Original Worlds - Blog Posts
Mc oc, Phonk. He is an isekai’d dude trapped in the stitch body
Keny Yaneh
Kenyan is the best of both worlds; try to change my mind. She’s gorgeous as a woman, gorgeous as a man, bet she’s gorgeous even as a worm.
In case you don’t know her yet, here she is:
(AAAAAAAAAAASOPRETTYAAAAAAAAAAAA)
Call Me
I love this silly person. They’ll be there guessing Kenyan’s life and she: “They are shiny! 🥰💖✨”
Well, can’t blame her. They’re nice to her and only appear when she’s not in conditions to question them so… yeah. Let them be silly and help Kenyan to be silly a bit.
This is Chapter 4 : Shine. You can see it in AO3 too.
(I never got high, just so you know. Don’t use drugs kids, Jesus feels better than it 🤙🏽)
CW: addiction, drugs, suicidal thoughts
AO3
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Shine
Sylris was right— again: punishing herself wouldn’t change the tragedy. If she had to do something, she should fight against his control and get herself back; luckily throwing him in flames by the end.
But she didn’t have the will to move, and this was crystal clear. She wasn’t that strong. She wasn’t that smart. She could never.
So if her options were to suffer consciously or unconsciously… she was back to the garden, to the quietest place on this planet. It was Nixulon time, and the nixies kindly built her a glowing path in the darkness. Other than this, all she could see was the pitch black engulfing everything.
Her steps weren’t hesitant, though; her skin worked like a sonar for her, warning when the humid air stopped hitting her. It meant a barrier was in front, and also that she arrived at her destiny.
She crouched carefully, until her knees were scraping at the wood, fixed her dress, and sat at the wet grass.
Then, she breathed.
Inhaling, holding, exhaling; trying to settle her mind down, trying to subdue the storm inside her. It was unrelenting, and she couldn't get a blink of sleep all night because of the truthful comments from her victims—their ghosts, actually.
She was almost convinced to set her room on fire. Another second in that place, and she would have.
But, silly as it was, what made her reconsider the action was the big panda on her table, the one brought by the “intruder”. She knew it was staring at her. As if waiting to see if she would be that stupid to fire everything.
Nobody found information about them, and the guards (coughcough Hiélo coughcough) said it might be dangerous, yet Kenyan still believed it was just a well played trick, and kept the panda to herself.
It had been useful for her, after all. It held her from going astray when she had to keep watch on Sylris. She knew that if she died, Hiélo and Ethan would be his new targets, and that’s why she had a vial on her hand, a syringe in the other.
Her tongue was heavy as she fiddled the plunger with her broken nail. It didn't make the slightest difference if she had her eyes closed or opened, such was the darkness, and there she was, planning to insert a needle on herself.
Argh, just what was she thinking?
She shouldn’t be doing that. She should be in bed. She should be inside.
The high she was about to get was pleasant, relaxing; but too volatile. She never knew if it would end peacefully, or if she’d get in a coma for days.
But if she doesn’t do something soon, she will truly go mad at any time. Three days up was irking her, and she couldn’t stand the feeling that someone was watching her all day. Objects were moving on their own, the walls were noisy, the words were walking in the documents, she was jittery than normal... Sylris himself asked if she was fine, and did her work in her stead.
So she had to do it. She needed to relax somehow.
Even if she promised them she wouldn’t do it anymore.
…
…Hiélo should have expected she’s not good at keeping promises.
She swallowed dry, and blindly inserted the needle on the vial, pulling the liquid inside, when it occurred to her: how would she measure the dose in the dark?
She could only hope her muscular memory would get the right amount.
…
Oh great evil, that was the worst idea she ever had. Couldn’t she wait some minutes until Nixulon went away? Until Divulon appeared?
No.
No.
If she extended it any longer, Hiélo would find her and stop that immediately. That's just who he is: too worried about her health, worried that she would get an overdose again, bothering her with thoughts about her actions, bothering her with thoughts about Ethan.
“How do you think he would react if he saw his mother like this? Would you be fine if it was your mother trying to kill herself?!”
“Ah, I don’t have to worry about it, Hiélo, because she’s way too dead by my own hands!”
She bit her lower lip and held the syringe firmer between her fingers.
She wouldn’t die. She still had things to pay for. This time she wouldn’t mess up, because she has to be awake later. Otherwise, she had it too easy on her life, and that was wrong.
C’mon, Kenyan.
She tried the syringe, standing her thumb over the needle to check if it was dripping. After the air was released, she brushed the crook of her elbow, feeling her hurried blood under her skin. Only then, she positioned the needle.
Curse it.
She was shaking.
Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply. Once again she did it. And once more, she couldn't calm her heart; her pulse was hammering in her ears. But if she didn't do it now, she never would. And she had to. She had to.
And maybe, a chance in a million, she could have the luck to don’t wake up anymore.
The needle slid in. A sharp breath. The familiar coldness rushed through her, creeping under her skin like a second bloodstream.
It didn't take long to disarm her muscles on the spot. Her lips and fingers tingled as the syringe slipped down like butter to the ground, and soon after, she was the one hitting the grass.
Holy sky. Spinning was wild.
Her lungs relaxed with the sudden lack of tension, and the oxygen got in so easily. Fresh, light, clean… did somebody turn on a purifier in the air? Her nose was very grateful.
However, her heart was having a hard time pumping blood around her body. Her heartbeats were fluctuating in weird places like her feet? It was also deafening her, shouting “Too bad! Too bad! Too bad!” like a cuckoo. Maybe it didn't like the “intruder”, just like nobody liked her intruder.
Much impolite of them, in her opinion.
Both intruders were nice to her. She was doing just fine with them, and wasn't disposed to shove them away just because a certain immunological system was displeased with it. Rot in mud, everyone displeased with it. She was fine. She would be.
A long sigh left her as a faint copper taste immersed on her tongue (her tongue? Did she have a tongue?). Very metallic, very common, very good. It was awesome. It meant she was drifting off. Niiiiiiiiiiiiice. Nice.
Nice.
Terrifyingly nice.
But… what was Sylris doing there?
Echoes of steps were approaching at the worst moment ever, but, fortunately, it wasn't Hiélo. His steps were heavy and careful. Now these steps were fast and jumpy, much more fitting of… of… Sylris… Sylris?
No, wait.
‘Sylris’ and ‘jumpy’ in the same sentence?
“You came to visit me!” A laugh sang clearly behind her. “I thought we'd never talk again; you disappeared for days, Keny!”
Her eyes hazily opened to see who it was and—cosmos!—, the shiny person was in front of her, shinier than ever, brighter than a lamp, standing on the black like a painting.
“I was getting bored, you know? Don't leave me alone with these untalkable Nixies! I don't know how to sign Nixian yet.” They were already lying beside her, smiling so wide she thought their cheeks would get stretched forever. “You can do it fluently, right? Could you teach me?!”
Kenyan blinked multiple times, and moved her hand to touch them. At least, that was the intention, but her fingers only twitched weakly in place.
They frowned slightly at her, as if just noticing her state, then slapped their forehead. “Ahhh, dumb me! It’s late; you were trying to sleep, right? Sorry for bothering, you can sleep now.” And they shut their eyes while keeping a smile on their face.
…was she supposed to sleep now, when they finally were there? She had questions, no desire to sleep! But her tongue was heavy, her lips, numb, and her mind couldn’t form a single coherent phrase to even start.
Ugh, appeared didn’t they early why? Were who they? Their what name was? Doing they what were here?
She tried organizing her thoughts, but nothing right was coming. These weren’t the things she wanted to ask, were they? It felt too serious and intrusive. Couldn’t she say what she really wanted to say? What she really was thinking?
“Hm? The panda?”
Their gaze turned to her like crescent moons, expecting she’d elaborate about it but… did she say something? She didn’t quite notice it…
“What?! Did you like the gift?!” They gripped her hand and kicked their feet, screaming repressed. “Yay! I’m so glad you did! I know you don’t like being alone, so I thought he’d be a nice companion for you when I wasn’t around! Ah—“ they gasped, “alas, why didn’t you come here earlier?!”
Why she didn’t?… But she did went there. Many times, different hours of the day, alone, with Hiélo, with Sylris… she tried everything, yet they weren’t there at all.
Her lips parted voiceless, trying to complain, but it only moved uncoordinated. At this point, a baby could communicate better than her. Insufferable!
“Uh, what did you say?” They pouted, thinking, then their eyes lightened up. “Ah, no! I don’t live in your head! Did you think I wasn’t real?” They laughed and put her hair out of her face. “I couldn’t be touching you if I was a… I don’t know, a hallucination? Did you think your wonderful brain would spend time creating a hallucination like me?! I’m flattered, but no! I am a hundred percent real, Keny!”
Her body trembled with their touch again. Too comfy and fluid, electrifying her nerves with soft discharges. She had felt touches from her hallucinations, but they never were gentle as theirs. As they said, her mind only had the capacity to create morally questionable stuff, and it wouldn’t be able to come up with such a nice person.
So what were they? Why couldn’t anyone see them? Why only her? Why only sometimes?
“Dude, it’s complicated.”
And how were they guessing her questions correctly?!
They giggled. “I didn’t mean to… read your mind? I can’t hear anything all the time—I swear!” Their hand laid on the grass. “It’s just that your intentions towards me are pretty blatant right now. I can, literally, feel them around me.” They gestured up frantically. “Like, waves? Lines? It’s confusing to explain, sorry! But I swear I’m not a bad person! I won’t use your thoughts for THE EVIL!” They roughed their voice villainously before blurting in laughter.
They weren’t bad?
That thought didn’t even cross her mind. This joyful, happy soul could never be evil. She was sure since the beginning they were… pure, in the most literal meaning of the word. Just pure.
Odd. She was smiling, but why?
When they stopped laughing, sweeping a tear out their eyes (by the way, what was so fun?), they rolled closer to her and held both her hands together. Their hands were feather light around hers, and their breath was warm against her face.
Why were they so close?
“Next time you want to talk, just call me, okay?”
“You?” she whispered.
“Me. Not you; call me. Me, me.”
She frowned slightly. “Why not… name?”
“Let’s say I have too many names and don’t know which to stick with.” They chuckled. “Just call me, and I’ll come no matter what, okay?”
“Okay.”
She agreed way too fast. Why wasn’t she questioning this weird person?
They smiled and hovered their hand over her eyes, making them close. “You should sleep for real. Rest a lot. I’ll keep here as you do, so don’t worry about being found or anything. You’re safe with me, Keny.”
It was like a spell.
She felt sleepy at the same moment, barely nodding before her conscience flew away.
Mizan
I won’t say the translation, sry. It’s a scene from that short story/fic I’m writing with Kenyan and a self-insert character. AO3
For some reason, I don’t imagine this character the way I actually am. I imagine them blond, short hair, greek-like clothes (? First drawing). But drawing them that way was too off from how I look, so I drew them like that (Second drawing) which is still nothing like me, but at least they look like I wanted to look
And they’re hotter now. Haha!
(I love the nixies. I wanted to “talk” nixian with them)
AO3
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Heated
They weren’t there anymore.
Kenyan searched the garden upside down, the castle, the forest, the city… but nobody saw them. Sure, her description of them wasn’t the greatest, but people had to notice that glowing person. They weren’t someone you glance at only once; they were like a magnet attracting her, and it should have happened with everyone else, too.
So where could they have gone?
She even wondered if they were an image from her mind, but, as far as she knew, hallucinations don’t act like they did:
An intruder broke the castle’s window yesterday, messed up Sylris’s chambers, stole food from the kitchen, cleaned her chambers, and put a big stuffed panda on her bed.
And nobody, not even Hiélo who was in her room, heard or saw anything while it happened. The only witness of the supposed “intruder” was her, Kenyan, when she was high, sleep-deprived, and with loss of blood.
It couldn’t have happened for real. They weren’t real. What she saw wasn’t an intruder. They even claimed the garden their home! What kind of intruder would be this bold at Maivtre? And the guards also searched for them in the garden, asked the Nixies if they noticed something and… nothing.
They had to be a figment of her imagination. A self-relief her brain came up with, that somehow worked.
Last night she fell in a deep slumber while hugging that panda (Hiélo said she threatened to set fire on him if he tried to take it), and that was far the best sleep she had in years. No dreams, no nightmares, no interruptions… just a full eight hours of rest. The migraine and nausea still came when she woke up, but that was common. She couldn’t have asked for anything better! Her mind was useful for once!
But even after being sure that person was something she invented, there she was in the garden, crouched by the flowers and signing to a group of Nixies.
Person. Light. There. Me. ?
And they shook their heads, no. Kenyan frowned slightly and tried again.
Walking. Jumping. Happy. Here. Home. ?
And they shook their heads, no. Also, one flew to Kenyan’s head, touched her forehead and dragged their tiny hands down her face. After staring at her, the nixie flattened their wings.
“You’re getting crazy. You were falling apart. Are you okay?”
She huffed and got up, quickly signing a “fine” for them.
“I told you,” the rough voice sounded behind her. “Nobody saw the intruder.”
“Yes, Élo, thank you for pointing out the obvious,” she replied harsher than expected.
His eyes squinted at her as they walked towards the tree. It was enormous, providing the same shadow she had used yesterday. The same shadow she shared with them. Right there. Where she felt them, their warmth, their excitement, and their happiness for being with her.
Could you imagine it? Even Kenyan herself couldn’t stand her presence, and someone, something, actually liked her!
“Kenyan, do you seriously don’t remember anything about their appearance? Gender? Voice?”
She sighed hard, rolling her eyes before turning at him.
“Why would I lie about it?” Her eyebrows raised. “Haven’t I been searching for them as well?!”
“How can I know what’s going on in your mind?” He crossed his arms. “They got you a teddy bear; how can I know if you aren’t keeping them hidden because of it?”
She flinched with the sharp pain on her head.
“Please, Hiélo, I might be a menace, but I am not reckless about this kingdom.” Her face scrunched. “If you think I can’t distinguish between safe and dangerous, you might as well have a problem with your mind.”
His jaw clenched as his tail lashed back and forth. Then, looking away, he pursed his lips. Avoiding talking to her. Avoiding her.
It was dizzying.
“Say it,” she demanded. “Now, while I’m listening.”
“…it’s not relevant.”
“I decide what’s relevant. Say it.”
He looked at her in that same reprimanding way. As if he was her father. As if she was a brat. As if he knew better than her.
“Look, I don’t want to offend you, but all you have been doing are dangerous and reckless things.”
“Ah, is that so? Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” She closed her hands on fists as her chest rose and fell. “I am aware of my dangerous and reckless behavior, General, and despite everything, I am still the Maivtre of this nation. I care about my people. I’ve been doing what I can to bear this burden, and I won’t doom it all over a teddy bear, as you swiftly placed in your statement.”
His eyes softened and her body tensed, shaking in disbelief.
“Kenyan, you know this isn’t what I said…” He reached for her hand, unclenching her fingers carefully. “I’m sorry if it sounded like that, I won’t ask again. Could you sit down and breathe slowly? Your head will get better if you do.”
There it goes. Hiélo, the white knight, and Kenyan, the poor queen.
Kenyan this! Kenyan that! Kenyan should! Kenyan could! Kenyan’s dumb! Kenyan’s wrong!
When will they stop treating her like a fool?
She shoved his hand away and paced back. “Keep guard from the outside. I’ll stay here for longer.”
“But you’re not fine, you should call the doct—“
“Yes, cause of my migraine, I am aware!” She glared at him. “Get out!”
He looked hurt at her, but she was already approaching the tree, finding that comforting spot amidst the roots. When she sat, he was marching at the door, and the place finally got its quietude back.
Her head leaned against the tree, and she breathed in, trying to control her heart. That unending pain was shattering her sanity, and the lack of answers wasn’t helping.
If that person was there, would they help her to calm?
No, but who in the cosmos could they be? A single day they appeared, and everything was messed up that much. A single day, and half the castle hates them. A single day, and they got her obsessed with them.
And they weren’t even real, were they? They came from her fractured soul.
So why couldn’t she summon them when she needed? Why wouldn’t they appear now? Why can’t they hear her crying?
(I got lazy and didn’t make the drawing 🤙🏽 it’s also written in a different format, but enjoy it)
Interview - Sylris
Greetings, citizens of Martra and all surroundings! Today, Odabrani—our king and messenger— provided us a glimpse of his personal life!
“Hello, my friends.” Smiles gently. “You can call me ‘Sylris’ for today. It’s a basic personal information to have: my full name, ‘Sylris Kem Yaneh’, and my age, somewhere in my 40s.”
Oh! Such a beautiful name, Sylris! If you are watching us from Earth, his age is around 26-28 human years! Now shall we start?!
1. Sylris, many would say you’re a master of manipulation. What’s your secret to always staying ahead of everyone else?
“Do they say it?” Chuckles. “Well, it’s not a secret for anyone: patience is the answer. Trying to get ahead of them will make you get ahead of yourself, and this is when you fail. So take it easy, as if this is a walk in the park.” Smiles.
2. You’ve lived through some… questionable situations in your past, yet you seem to have come out on top. Is there any moment you regret, or do you consider everything a necessary step to where you are now?
“Hm… tough question.” Leans back in the couch, leg crossed and hands together. “I wouldn’t call it regret, but there are certain things I could have done better, made a different choice…” sighs. “Entertaining that ugly noble was so boring, so easy… Kenyan is far more interesting to deal with.” Smirks. “But I don’t regret my outcome, and I’m sure my steps were extremely necessary to get me here.”
3. You seem to have a very… unique perspective on relationships, especially with Kenyan. Some might say you’re controlling or manipulative, but do you see it as simply ‘guiding’ her? What is it you want from her, exactly?
A smile slowly creeps on his lips.
“What do I want from my wife? Isn’t it obvious? What more could I wish, but the best for us?”
“You might have the vision I’m manipulating her, but at the end, weren’t they all her choices? Wasn’t she the one who pushed them away? Wasn’t I the one to stay?” Fidgets with his ring. “Not wanting to brag, but I do much better than certain people who ‘swear to love you till the moon and back’,” says in a high pitch and laughs.
4. You have a son, Ethan. Do you care about him? Or is he just another piece in your grand design?
“Ethan Yaneh, my son.” Hums, tapping finger on thigh. “I must admit: I wasn’t a present father in his life, despite my wishes. But what could I do? Kenyan didn’t want me close to him, claiming I would ‘intoxicate the kid with my behavior’.” Snorts. “Such an idiocy, if I must add. He’d be far better living with us, learning important lessons, instead of stay in Earth playing house. And the worst? Kenyan isn’t there to watch him, so who knows how he will appear next?” Frowns up slightly and looks away. “As my son, I expected he’d be at least a bit dignified. I know he was smart at school when he was a kid, but I worry his intelligence go only for academic matters…” sighs.
5. Let’s say things don’t go your way. Let’s say you lose. What then? What happens to you if you’re outplayed?
“It won’t happen.”
…but in a “what-if”. Just in case—
“It won’t happen.”
He stares at the interviewer, straight face.
Okay… could you at least explain?
Lifts an eyebrow. “I made sure of it?” Crosses his arms “No matter what, I am sure I will win. Even if I die, I win. So there’s no reason to delve deeper into this subject… next question.”
6. You hold so much power, so much control. But tell me—when you were younger, powerless, no one—what kept you going?
“As I said, patience first. But it’s desire what run us, no?” Tilts head slightly. “Desire to have something greater, to be someone bigger, to do things better. I desired, so I moved. And look where it took me?” Smirks, glancing at the luxurious room of the castle.
7. You talk about desire like it’s the only force that matters. But do you ever just… want something simple? Something human?
“Hm… greed itself is a very human feeling; saying that my power and desires aren’t ‘human’ for being complex is pretty rude.” Leans back. “But I understand your reasoning. In my case, I lost my parents when I was young, when my place was enslaved. Perhaps it made me miss something to call ‘home’? So having this castle, these people to rule, my wonderful wife, and a cute son?” Smiles “Well, I guess I fulfilled my ‘human’ wishes.”
8. You say you love your wife, your son. But if they ever truly betrayed you—if Kenyan escaped, if Ethan fought against you—what then?
“…I don’t see it happening. I don’t know why they would do such a thing, but…” Fidgets with the sleeve of shirt. “If they ever do, I’ll just have to bring them back?” Smiles softly. “As a father, my role is to keep our family working, right? And I exercise my function with perfection—they wouldn’t stay far for a long time. They would eventually miss it, no? The comfort of being together? Of having a home, just like I did?”
9. You’ve been in control of everything, all this time. But tell me the truth—just once. Are you ever afraid?
“Well, it gets a bit annoying when something goes out of planned. I do have a plan for everything, but changing the strategy in a rush is always a mess.” Sighs and rolls eyes.
Hm, I didn’t ask if you get annoyed; I asked if you get afraid. Fear. Worry. Do you ever feel like that?
Frowns. “Why would I? Nothing out of ordinary will happen, nothing scary as my late mother-in-law destroying my planet.” Looks away, nonchalant voice. “If I was to die; okay, it wouldn’t be bad. If Kenyan was to die; a problem, but I would fix. If Ethan was to die; I told Kenyan he had to be here.”
“So, no, nothing scares me. I’m at my comfort zone, 24/7.”
A random, self-insert story. Idk if I’ll continue it.
Just so you know, the inserted character acts nothing like me (they’re too extrovert), but they act in the way I wanted to act if I met her. Anyway, it’s just a silly and fun story that I wanted to write a lot. AO3
> Next chapter
Ray
It happened in a joyful day.
The garden was livid, full of flowers and colorful Nixies. A breeze flowed through, making the leaves dance on air, bringing a sense of calm in the disturbed mind who walked by.
It was impossible to don’t get mesmerized by her flaming hair. Crimson and wild, it seemed like fire itself. Her slim legs paced slowly in the grass, and the Nixies hurried to check out the bloody bandages. These were around her legs, arms and neck, but the woman seemed unbothered.
Instead, her face was hollow. The bags under her eyes told a tale, and her cracked lips continued it. Clouds could be seen in her red irises, simmering over dilated pupils that were focused beyond; far beyond from there.
For a moment, they looked up and noticed the tree over her. Its shadow was solid, protecting her frail skin from the sun.
It was perfect, truly.
Her legs immediately faltered and she fell over the roots. It was quite uncomfortable, but did it matter? She had been in worse conditions and yet, there she was, still alive. So she stayed there, eyes closed, with a pulsing numbness hovering in her body.
She did take more than the normal. She had to. They were so insistent... their voices, pleas and screams. They had crawled under her skin —thus the wounds on her body—, but no longer.
All she could hear were whispers slipping past like sand. The words were feeble, and she couldn’t make out their meanings. She didn’t want to. Didn’t care to.
Some would call it madness.
Peace, she named it.
There was nothing like the pure state of silence and unconsciousness. Fleeting memories would come and leave, no thoughts were required, and the outer world wouldn’t reach her.
For this reason, she frowned at the new stimulus from outside her mind.
“Hellooo,” hummed serene. “Are you fine?”
Goosebumps surged from the stroke on her cheek. So gentle, so sweet, barely touching her. It didn’t felt like Hiélo’s or Sylris’s. It was more… refreshing.
Kenyan opened her eyes and the world around was spinning. Everything was blurred and abstract, except the person in front of her.
“So you are alive!” They smiled and tilted their head. “You got me worried for a sec’, you know?”
Their voice settled in her ears, feeling like a massage in her brain. Soothing, relaxed, warm… she never heard anything like that, did she?
And their face was a sight. Radiant and beautiful, youthful in the tender light. They looked happy. Complete.
When and how did she kill them?
She stared and stared, watching as they accommodated themselves laid in the fresh grass. Their eyes shone at her, as if waiting for something.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t remember you.”
“Of course you don’t, it’s the first time we met.” They giggled and held her hand. “Though I know you, Kenyan. You’re so awesome! I’ve always wanted to talk to you like this.”
She didn’t held their hand back. Not because she didn’t want, but because she didn’t have strength to. Somehow, the person seemed to know it.
“What are you doing here?” they asked.
Running. Escaping. Hiding.
“Resting,” she answered.
“Hmm, your garden is very beautiful, indeed a wonderful place to rest.” They nodded and then gasped. “Can I live here?! I promise to take care of everything while you’re out!”
Live there?
“Why?”
“Because it’s great, and I get to see you!” Their eyes smiled. “Will you come to visit me often?”
She blinked and her finger twitched. Who was that daring person? She didn’t say they could live there, but they’re asking if she’ll visit them. She never saw their face, but they talk as if they were long friends. How so shameless? How so casual? How so nice?
“Okay, I will.”
“Yey!” They cheered and got up in a jump. “You’re the best, Kenyan! See you soon, your love is coming to get you!”
And just like that, they left like they appeared.
…what was it? A spirit, a ghost or hallucination?
She didn’t even ask their name. So rude of her…
They said her love was coming; did they mean Sylris? People trust his words more than rumors, and he said so convincingly that they were deeply in love… yuck.
But for her surprise, the arms who held her weren’t Sylris. Even in her sick state, she knew it was Hiélo. Her love.
How did they know it?
Straining her eyes, she glanced at Hiélo who was visibly worried, carrying her to somewhere. He was rushing. So cute.
“Élo, did you see someone in the garden?…”
His ears twitched. “What did you say?”
“Short…” she mumbled half-awaken, half-asleep, “shiny, shameless, sheepish…” she chuckled. “Why am I ‘sh-ing’ everything?”
“Focus, Kenyan!” He held her slightly tighter. “Was somebody with you?!”
“I don’t know. They said they were gonna live there. It’s their home. Don’t shove them away.”
“Oh great evil...” He frowned and barked at the other guards, saying a lot of orders, but she wasn’t hearing anymore.
Her mind faltered beyond; far beyond from there. To where the person was. To when she was going to see them again.
She couldn’t wait for it.
What’s your biggest source of inspiration for Ethan :D
Were there any characters that inspired you? Any Music, movies, books, etc.
Myself—
I wish I was kidding lol 😀
Tbh, I don’t know how to make things inspired on others; at least, not in a conscious level. Like, if I hear a song, the best I can do is read the lyrics and think about some animation I could do with that, but other than that? “Sry, my mind was busy understanding the media ✋🏽”
So… Ethan is a scaredy cat, people-pleaser, trying to feel loved again. This is all about me????? I don’t know how it ended up like this, I swear I didn’t realize he was like this when I was writing about him.
But the main idea I had while writing the current Ethan was: “He is a normal guy. The most normal guy ever, living a normal life. Then he goes to a weird world, like isekai stories, but instead of dominating it, he will be scared/sad/worried the whole time, just like any normal person would be at a weird world where you don’t know anyone.”
It just annoys me how they put kids and teenagers to fight a big evil, and they’re fine with it, and they win???? No way. If it was me, I’d die in spot.
Now the thing is that I inserted Maya in this world as well, it wasn’t in my plans, so it will probably change more of his feelings, I don’t know…
(And my opinion about Ethan? He’s not my favorite guy. I don’t like him a lot. Maybe cuz he represents the weak part of me?… I prefer Kenyan, who’s just the mad/“I give up” part of me. And yeah, this family is all based on myself, including Sylris; fight me)
I’m not a shapeshifter, but Sylris (my OC) is, and despite he not liking to expose his abilities, he made an exception for you only:
- Can you change your brain/other organs?
“Only if I have an extensive knowledge of how these organs work. The brain is too complex, with neurons and regions that change depending on their function. It’s not good to try changing it, as it can be a failure and cause an irreversible modification.”
- If you can change organs, if you had a lung cancer, could you shift your lungs to lungs that don’t have cancer?
“Yes, if I make an autopsy on a healthy lung.”
- What parts of your body do and don’t count as the shapes you shift?
“All of them count, including minor parts, such as nails, eyelashes, pores… This is why I can’t change to any shape I want, but only those I had studied a lot. It is a long journey.”
- Can you change your brain cells?
“As explained previously, yes, but I prefer to not do it. It is hard enough to understand how animals’ brains work, I rather don’t spend more time trying to change my brain if I am satisfied with it.”
“In resume, being a shapeshifter from my world requires you to be extremely disciplined, patient and dedicated. Many didn’t get to make it work because it is hard to adquire legal ways to study these organisms. But in my case… well, I’m the king now, they won’t send an arrest warrant for me, will they?”
A list of questions I have for shapeshifters
-Can you change your brain/other organs?
-If you can change organs, if you had lung cancer, could you shift your lungs to lungs that don't have cancer?
-What parts of your body do and don't count as the shapes you can shift?
-Can you change your braincells?
To any shapeshifters that may be on this website or just to people who know a lot about them
Auvies Race
By my searches, black people lived in places where the UV light was too intense, and their skin evolved to reflect this light away (so they don't absorb much vitamin D and get sick).
Now white people absorb MORE, as their environment are usually cold, and the sun doesn't hit a lot; so they need to absorb as much as possible vitamin D.
The Auvies need to stay in cool places because they don't sweat—they're cold blood beings (I’m still thinking about its consequences, but they’re supposed to not have pores). So they obviously don't stay exposed to Sun cuz they’ll easily get burned, and this leads to the conclusion they're mostly white.
Maybe some of them have a kinda darker skin if they're ones who travels a lot, or works on markets, but I don't think they'd get really black because it hurts to stay in the Sun; it's not likely they'd get exposed for ages to evolve that much.
(This is me searching logics to make a single drawing)
Was Kenyan a Bad Mum?
I was thinking about Ethan’s childhood and how chaotic it was. He was spoiled, could do almost everything he wanted, he had everything he asked, he questioned every concept, he was a smart ass at school…
And you ask, “why”? Because Kenyan taught him to be like this, of course. Her idea of motherhood was different from the normal; she raised Ethan as a person, not just a kid. This is why she afforded his desires, wishes, and demands—because she wanted him to live at max capacity while he didn’t have responsibilities and huge consequences to care about.
Then you think, “wow, this is wrong. This kid will grow to be a spoiled adult, thinking life works exactly as he wants; then when things go bad, he will get mad and won’t know how to fix it.”
But if we look through Kenyan’s POV, we can understand why she’d think this is okay.
Let’s check her life stage:
As you can see, Auvies take their time to do things in life; maturity and independence comes around at 40 years old. At the age she got pregnant, she was supposed to start thinking about her future and what she wanted to try (in studies and work). She was a princess, so it was half decided, but she still would need to think about what kind of authority she’d be in the future.
But then she skipped (not by her choice) 100 years of her life, had to run away (she was a sacred figure, pregnancy out of marriage wouldn’t sound good…), started a life from scratch in a strange place, had no support, and all of it with a hyperactive kid. It’s clear she wouldn’t know how to raise a child in this situation.
And her maturity wasn’t that different of a child, so she was deeply empathetic of Ethan. If he asked for something, she’d give it to him because she thought “I also wanted to have things when I was a kid, so it's only fair I give it to him”, or even “he will just have me, so I should be a thousand times better than a normal mother, and to be a better mother, I should do this and that”.
There's also her culture.
Until 12 years old, Auvies have all the right to be curious and innocent, exploring the world and not dealing with consequences. The parents should allow it, only being careful about really dangerous actions; in this case, the parents should be present to instruct, but they still couldn’t forbid the kid from doing what they want.
Ethan was at this stage, so Kenyan just followed what she knew. But, for being on Earth and hearing advice all the time about how to raise him, she started allowing consequences on Ethan’s life, so he’d know what to do and what to avoid. (Example: he can climb the tree, but if he gets afraid of heights or gets stuck, Kenyan wouldn’t save him—she’d teach him how to get down. At the end, he would know it’s not a good idea to climb again because it’s scary, but if he ever need to climb down again, he wouldn’t be powerless)
So, we can conclude that Kenyan did a great job at raising Ethan! She could have done better? Probably. But she did what she could as a solo-teen-Auvie mother raising a child.
Unfortunately, we won’t know how she would raise a teen.
She didn’t stay long enough.
✨SECOND CHAPTER✨
Now it's available in both Wattpad and AO3!!!!!
It was extremely disgusting to write it, it gave me a heart attack when it got deleted, but it's finally ready and posted ❤️
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63364711/chapters/162346738#workskin
Nixies
Nixies are like fairies. They’re born from flowers that survive Shizores’ rain/acid, not having any sexual or romantic relationships, only friendships. They also don’t have gender, having androgynous appearance.
They can’t talk (verbally), so they use gestures and touches to communicate. For this reason, they stay in groups to facilitate their interactions. A minority of them know how to write in Martrakoji, but they’re clumsy with it because they’re tiny, making it quite hard to talk to another species.
They don’t eat, but need to drink loads of water. They also don’t live for too long in a single life (when they die, they go back to dirt and may reincarnate in the future with some memories).
Their function is to protect plants and attack anyone who dares to destroy them. They clean the air, too, making it easier to breathe by breaking down heavier gases and increasing the oxygen saturation. Some of them have the capacity to restaure dead plants, or release a pollen that enhance airflow and heals living beings who passes there.
It’s always amazing to walk in their region, you can feel your lungs getting happy at breathing their air. You just need to be careful to don’t hurt any of them or the plants. They will chase you down with poison, diseases or block your oxygen until you die. 💚
Hiélo Garoh
Yes, I made him furry. He has a bestial form too, but I don't want to draw it (lazyyyy), so you can imagine a green wolf.
I know I posted a drawing of him before, but it was annoying me that he was technically a lot-haired man with a dog nose, tail, and ears on top of his head.
And I was watching YouTube (that’s why they say you should be careful with what you watch), and I saw a video of a person making furries commissions. And it was cute and cool at the same time, perfect for Hiélo.
It was my first time drawing furry, so I struggled a bit with the face shape, but I guess I got it the way I wanted. The shoes are a bit odd because I was lazy and didn’t look for references. And can you see how SMOOTH his fur is? Like, I understand Kenyan now. He's like a walking blanket for her.
Shizore
The fluffy cloud-bees 💕 They float in groups so nobody gets their body dispersed in the air! Also, their colors ain't defined like in this drawing (yellow and black strips); it's more like a mess of tones of yellow and some black spots. Consider it an Ethan’s drawing simplifying what he saw.
In Summer, Divulon(similar to the Sun) shines for longer times, warming them a lot, and causing them to rain toxin/acid. If this rain falls into rivers/lakes, the citizens need to purify it before using it (I guess I will explain it later). If nobody tries to purify it, until Winter this water will turn into other shizores (consequently purifying the water too).
Nixies need shizores. As they are born from flowers, they need shizores’ rain to fertilize a special kind of flower that doesn't die from the acid. After getting rained over, these flowers will bloom more Nixies in Spring.
For this reason, Nixies have the job of taking care of shizores, keeping them over the right flowers so they won't kill other plants.
Space: Nightmares
Fandom: Original Work
AU?: N/A
Extra: Original characters again, whoop whoop!!
Warnings: Abuse, Blood mentioned, death, lifeless bodies referred to as dolls
Tag: @badthingshappenbingo
A Nightmare For Death
Trembling with both sections of his tail in his mouth, chewing on scales and leathery flesh, the boy remained as silent as possible. The tiny safe room his mother had installed into his room was a secret to that monster of a man. Why was he doing this? Young, little Mortalitas had done nothing wrong!
"C'mon brat, I know you're in this house somewhere!"
Still, he remained silent, daring to peer into the little view slot that he had so he could see if he was safe. He had to cover his mouth to stifle a scream. That was his mother... Dead. Lifeless. Being dragged like a pathetic doll by her clothes. Of course, the stifled scream didn't go unnoticed, and Mortalitas panicked as his hidey hole was approached.
The man, his father, or at least he's supposed to call this wretched man, had an expression that was more gnarled than an old iron gate. A vile, violent, vicious man who didn't understand the concept of love unless it required forceful and mercilessly hands. Not that it was love, and young, little Mortalitas knew that.
But when the little hidey hole was revealed, everything changed. The body was no longer his mother's, but rather instead his husband's. No... That wasn't possible... His husband wouldn't have been killed. Right? RIGHT? But alas, the clothing was now the Prince's official attire, ripped and shredded. The tri-coloured hair - blonde, baby blue and pastel pink - was matted with blood, the usually lively body language rendered down to the same movements of a ragdoll.
Similarly, his father was no longer his father. For one, his father did not have brown hair like the mud of a floodplain, shaggy and unkempt. His father didn't have grey, steel eyes that held not even one sane moral behind them. His father wasn't a mindless, cruel human, who's only concern was experimentation and torture. But yes, the man had changed too. Clad in a white lab coat stained red, with larger gloves of that sickening doctors' blue, a sneer plastered like a smile on his face - the CEO and lead scientist of the country's biggest threat.
=======================================
Waking with a startled gasp, the king stared at the ceiling with his chest heaving. His usually playful and unserious partner sat up beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Mortal...?"
The king could only sit up himself, and hold onto Jester with a vice hug, refusing to let him go. Jester held Mortalitas in return, securely in his arms where no one could dare to hurt him. Jester wasn't too clued up on Mortalitas' childhood, but he had a few ideas of what had occurred for his kingly lover. He never pried for the information but this was clearly more than his past.
"Mortal, dear...?"
"... You were dead... He killed you..."
The usually manic prince could only hold his beloved tighter. He knew that Mortalitas had lost almost everyone in his life, and he knew that he feared losing Jester. He made the attempt to soothe him, gentle hands raking through surprisingly untangled hair of a white, purple and black combination. It was painful, watching him struggle with no way for Jester to help. If only he could take away all that horror, pain, trauma, terror... Everything that his beloved ever suffered. But of course, that isn't possible. Jester can only hold him while he sobs, gut-wrenching heaves of his chest as his hands cling tightly to Jester. Sounds that no one ever wants to hear from anyone. Sounds that no matter what happens, you want to protect them with your whole being.
And, despite his lesser power, Jester would throw himself in harms way for the man in his arms.
SPOODER MONSTER :D
Rotten Escape
Space: They're Coming For Me
Fandom: Original Work
AU?: N/A
Extra: This, like the other entries, is my own world and characters. This one's a little shorter than the others
Warnings: Brief descriptions of rotting, death
Tag: @badthingshappenbingo
No light to trust, for the moon gave no cover to the girl as she stumbled over roots. Run... Just keep running: that's what she kept telling herself. She could hear their voices, shouting to bring her back. Back to that white room with nothing but a minimal bed and a restraint system in case she got violent.
She was 8. Permanently 8. That's why they wanted her body as it slowly rotted away from her bones. They wanted sick, sick answers that she would refuse to be the subject of. They weren't welcome here. They landed and never disappeared. 8 years old and she ran through a woodland full of a misty blanket. Home. That's where she needed to get. To wriggle through the gnarled gates of the citadel grounds, and beg for help. Beg someone to tell her father that she was home.
She reached the gate, and almost as soon as she had, the gate swung over and she was hauled off the ground into the arms of a man. Pale tri-coloured hair was all it took for her to know that she was safe.
"You're safe, Cas, you're safe", the voice of one of her fathers rang through her ears and she lifted her head slightly. She saw the gleam of metal walk by, slow and deadly. Far too curious for her own good, she turned her head to watch as the woosh of air was met with the wet squelch of flesh and blood. A few thuds followed, presumably heads of the bodies that collapsed down to the floor.
"They were coming for me...", the forever young girl spoke, staring at the bodies outside the gate. They had been so close to getting her. Broke from her staring by a hand on her head, she looked up to the gentle brown eyes of her second father.
"They will never have you, Cassie, not if I have anything to say about it".
⛧˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛦Vipera's Case⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧
An OC Short/One Shot story
Warnings: Murder, mentions of gouged out eyes, prison mentioned, decapitation
READ WITH CAUTION
Sometimes, the coldest killers are the happiest children...
That's what he'd heard and he knew it was true. He knew who he was and who he'd become. He was a happy, oblivious child who had no worries... At least, before everything happened.
⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧⋆༺𓆩⋆♱✮♱⋆𓆪༻⋆⛧˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛦
The last semester of the year ended, and Vipera was prepared to go home for a few weeks - home to his family who had adopted the young fae when he was only a baby. Everything seemed normal - the walk to the train, the train ride to his hometown, the trek to his house, greeting his neighbours. Everything was normal.
Until it wasn't.
Vipera entered his family's home with a bright smile on his face, and a call to say he was home. He was met with a thick and bloody silence. He stared at the doorway of the living room, locking eyes with someone he didn't know and catching eye of someone fleeing out the window. Stupidly, the fae looked down. A thud of Vipera's belongings falling to the floor sounded out. This man was holding the vibrant red hair of his adoptive father. His father's expression was lifeless, his eyes gouged out and his body... Well, not attached. Daring to look behind the man, Vipera saw red. His brothers and his sister, his mother, his aunt, one of his cousins, his father - all of them decapitated and eyeless.
Without even a second thought, Vipera lashed out, charging at this man with a violent snarl. His fist collided with this murderer's temple, sending the man backwards. In a rage, the fae flung blow after blow at the man, completely ignoring his eye getting ripped out of its socket. Vipera didn't stop, not even when the man was dead, obliterating his face until he was unrecognisable. When he did finally realise, he froze, his body numb as the dread and anguish washed over him. He stumbled backwards as he stood up, and made a call to the cops, before he ran for it, fleeing the scene.
⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧⋆༺𓆩⋆♱✮♱⋆𓆪༻⋆⛧˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛦
Several years down the line, the case of the Occidendum family had gone cold, Vipera pronounced dead after no trace of him was found. In the midst of his disappearance, he was taken under the wing of some alcoholic psychopath. Vipera would kill for him, his lack of care or emotion making him ideal for such dirty work. He worked for him in agreement that he would find whoever fled his house that day.
The psychopath kept his word.
Daylor. That was the bastard's name. The one who ran that day. Tracked down, he would pay. Pay for what the fuck he did. Issue? Well, this little Daylor happened to be the brother of Fëanor, the warden of the country's most inescapable prison.
And yet... Vipera didn't care at all.
⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧⋆༺𓆩⋆♱✮♱⋆𓆪༻⋆⛧˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛦
75 years of killing couldn't have been more of a help. 75 years of slaughter, 100s of lives taken without being caught.
"Daylor."
He had found the man. His stare was cold and Daylor's was scared. Terrified. He knew who Vipera was. He knew what the little fae had done 80 years ago to his beloved friend. Without missing a beat, Vipera swung and hence commenced the fight that would change Vipera's life for the worst.
A crack and a thud made Vipera pause, staring at the majority of his horn now on the floor. He snarled and used it to his advantage, snatching it up and holding it point-down towards Daylor's throat.
The stab was never made.
Struggling frantically, Vipera did everything in his power to try and free himself from the hands that held him tight. He screamed, begging whoever had a hold of him to let him finish the job, to let him complete his revenge.
"Vipera Occidendum, you have every right to remain silent. You will be seen in court for several accounts of murder and attempted murder. Whatever you do and say can and will be used against you."
Fëanor.
Vipera fell limp in the hold of the warden. He had no chance. The warden was at least 8 times his age, and hence made him far more capable than Vipera.
"Like how I'm the one serving a pissing sentence. HE HELPED KILL MY FUCKING FAMILY!" Vipera snarled, snapping at Fëanor all while staring down at Daylor with a murderous glare.
⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧⋆༺𓆩⋆♱✮♱⋆𓆪༻⋆⛧˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛦
Life.
A life sentence.
He'd die being known as the Remorseless Killer of Jejivan. Never as a man hunting and preparing for revenge. He'd die here. In this prison. At least... He assumed so... Who knew? Perhaps one day, he'd be let free.
Sometimes, the coldest killers are the happiest children... And Vipera was one of them.
⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧⋆༺𓆩⋆♱✮♱⋆𓆪༻⋆⛧˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛦
Original Character: Dragon Form
My OC's (Mortalitas Mors Noxalus) dragon form, drawn with Krita.
The Vampire King's Match
Space: Dragging Themselves Along The Ground
Fandom: N/A
AU?: N/A
Extra: This, like the first entry, is my own world and characters.
Warnings: Blood, Injury, Fights
Tag: @badthingshappenbingo
Everything was fine. Everything was fine before the assassins arrived. Cries and screams of men, women and children alike poisoned the usually peaceful air. His Royal Highness of Bludpyra stood face to face with many foes in his long life, but these assassins were man-made. They could not regenerate their injuries nor could they hypnotise, levitate or use telekinesis, but they were faster and more agile than the average vampire.
Karayan, as he happened to be in the village at the time of the attack, had skewered and slashed many of the artificial vampires to smithereens. However, there was one that was clearly the perfected model. Slim, tall, and weak in appearance, yet lethally strong in reality. It annoyed Karayan. He ordered the ones who were still alive to get inside their homes, while he stood face to face with the last.
Karayan was nothing short of powerful. He'd lived for centuries, perfecting his immunity to sunlight and all of his found capabilities. His scythe, a weapon perfectly designed for him and him alone, floated beside him. He kept calm, blocking the attacks that were sent his way with the scythe, not moving a muscle. Upon spotting an opening, a pale and dead hand grasped the scythe and swung it at a crazy speed. Karayan's eyes grew wide - the bastard had dodged. Before Karayan could regain his focus, a burn screamed through his thighs.
He crashed to the ground, a blood-curdling shriek bubbling up and out his mouth. He didn't understand. His regeneration was impeccably fast, so why wasn't he regenerating?!
"Silver is a beautiful yet dangerous thing... Is it not, Your Majesty?"
Karayan had never felt panic so bad in his life. Like how a heated blade would cauterise the wound it inflicts, the sword this man-made piece of shit wielded had closed the wounds it made. Well, it had closed off the points that Karayan would regenerate from. Fight or flight had become his mindset, a snarl curling onto his face. Gritting his jaw through the pain, Karayan commanded his scythe again, giving his opponent a flurry of furious attacks that sent them stumbling.
With a big enough distance, Karayan clawed at the ground, pulling himself along the blood tainted earth. He knew he was adding to the red. He may not have had a pulse, but his long-dead blood seeped out as a steady run. He dragged himself, pain and all, along the ground.
A scream of agony and surprise had him halt in his escape. This stupid fucker just had to take a arm off as well. Karayan snarled at the assassin, rolling out of the way as a frenzied strike was made towards his chest. Karayan grinned at the look of anger on his opponent's face, and at the fact his scythe was floating at an angle behind the attacker.
Mortal blood splattered over the ground and over what remained of Karayan's body. The vampiric king laid on the ground, gasping for the air he didn't need. He had won, yes, but he was in pain. He laid in his own blood, and that of the assassins he had killed to protect his people. Speaking of his people, a young woman was first to leave her home, a gasp of horror caught on Karayan's ears. He tilted his head back, looking back at the lady as she rushed over to him.
"Your Highness, can you hear me?"
Karayan slowly nodded, recognising the lady to be the wife of his friend's butler. "I can hear you, Lady Serene... I can hear you," he replied, his tone swept with his agony.
Lady Serene Haworth, an elven lady of underestimated power. She was one of a few necromancers that lived in Bludpyra, in this village on the borders of the neighbouring nation where her husband worked. She was a healer, and commonly helped Karayan's servants.
"Let me heal you, Your Majesty..."
Space: It's Quiet... Too Quiet
Fandom: N/A
AU?: N/A
Extra: This one is being written with connections to my own characters and their plot line(s).
Tag: @badthingshappenbingo
Lunafullia: The Revenge Of The Ringmaster
The circus grounds of Jejivan. A lively and warm atmosphere all year round, the acts and staff having as much fun as their fans and supporters! Cheers and awes would leave the glow of the tent's entrance around 6 o'clock every night for around 4 hours, 6 hours if it was a special night. Located a few miles south of the capital's centre, it stood to be the biggest source of enjoyment from residents and tourists alike. Hell, even the royals would attend frequently. Who'd expect high ranked members of society to attend events in a red and white tent that seemed to destroy all aspects of basic physics?
Jejivan's Circus. That was its name. Simple yet memorable. The main tent stood at a scarily tall 75ft, the other smaller tents standing at 55ft. Of course, that meant the space inside was just as scarily large, the centre masts stationed over 80ft apart, with a width of over 100 to add - and that's just the main tent. Why would a tent have to be so big? Well, the ringmaster and circus owner wasn't the smallest man - or naga - on Lunafullia's surface. He had to fit somehow!
Speaking of, shall we delve into the ringmaster?
A naga of the largest variety, measuring in at around 90ft long, was the ringmaster. His name was Ryoko Occidendum, and he'd been running this circus for over 150 years. He was the father of the acts, figuratively speaking at least. He made every night unique, with help from his brother on the occasion. As we mention him, Reign Occidendum is the creative manager of the circus, and also the stand in ringmaster if Ryoko couldn't partake. How would that work? Well, Ryoko and Reign are twins, identical twins.
But enough about that! This circus ran for hundreds of years, originally being called Occidendum's Circus, for it was a family thing. Popular, thriving, safe; all things for the circus that was true.
Until it was not.
No birds sang, no sounds at all. Not even the weight of his tail made a sound as he slithered over the abandoned grounds. Or, at least he didn't hear it.
He didn't know. And yet he was the one blamed. He didn't know there was a monstrosity beneath the circus. Several heads, maybe 30 of them? He couldn't quite recall. Each head had black holes for eyes, with teeth like the spikes on a flail. He didn't know.
The tent still stood. But the pain he felt, staring at the shreds of his life, was far too much. The white and red vibrance had been replaced by yellowed and tattered violence, the stench of damp fabric assaulting his senses. The fabric was torn to no end, the centre masts having trenches from where its destroyer had tried to claw its way out of its confines. Old stalls, from which attendees would've gotten their merch and snacks, now rotted and collapsed.
The air stood still. The sickening smells didn't waft away. No sound broke the silence.
It was still there.
Somewhere.
Despite the pain in his chest, he pulled back the ribbons of the tent's entrance, half debating to coil and cry. He didn't stop, advancing into the place he once stood. He stared at the main stage, the memories already surfacing.
"Welcome ladies and gents and everyone present! The circus opens its curtains to you!"
He'd said that. As he had every night. The distinguished hat he always wore, his tailcoat a charming blue, like the early hours of the morning sky. He had his tail, the reds and greens of his scales reflecting the fire light that illuminated their stages, coiled beneath him, his cane raised in a dramatic introduction.
They'd gotten two hours into their set for the night when the first grumble had been heard.
"And what a spectacular performance from our very own pirate captain! Never ceasing to amaze his crew~! Up next-"
He'd been introducing their fire dance act. He remembered it so clearly. He was cut short by a grumble, growl of sorts. He had regained his composure before attempting to introduce the act again, until a loud snarl had ripped through the grounds. He had been scared out of his skin, the first head making its horrific presence known. He had immediately called the night off, shouting and screaming for everyone to get out.
He slithered around the debris, his hood flaring slightly. He was paranoid. Rightly so, though. He didn't know what that creature had been. All he knew was that it had appeared, and ate its way through over 200 supporters of the circus, and hadn't been seen since the grounds were abandoned.
15 years ago to the day.
15 years ago, screams of fear and horror had filled the circus. Reports channeled over the city and beyond. He had been blamed for hiding it. He had insisted he'd not known it was there, and that he had no idea what it was. Survivors backed him up, informing investigators that he had been just as scared as the rest of them.
Now, 15 years on, the area was dead. Silent. Nothing. He had no reason to be there, but there he was.
Clutching his modified masamune with a white-knuckled grip, Jejivan's Circus' former ringmaster relaxed himself, glaring at the place the beast had come from all those years ago. It had destroyed his life.
He felt eyes on him, and his hood flared further. He locked his attention on the darkness ahead.
His life had been destroyed that night: his career, his family's past, his brother, his family at the circus. That beast had killed those he loved, had killed his life and reason for living.
Ryoko had come to repay the favour... Only this time, as the Lord of Jejivan, the Noble Naga of Death.
He would avenge his murdered friends and family.
The memories would be put to an end.
And he'd not be nice about it...