#****making me press the enter button thing a lot and ‘m too tired to rewrite the sentences

[zecoritheweirdone]

02 32 34 59 62 65 66 68 Some of these questions tho 😅

yea,, some of these questions are,,,,, something, kdjdkdndk

2 — Who did you last say “I love you” to?

my mom

32 — What is your favourite color?

i’ve mentioned this before, but it’s teal! or aqua, or turquoise, or whatever that color is called, idk. tho i mostly just go with green because it’s more,, idk, common?? i had a direction i was going and i list it halfway, dinsksjd.

34 — Who/what was your last dream about?

i don’t remember what i last dreamed about, but i can kinda remember a dream i had,, sorta recently?? it was probably weeks ago, but i can still kinda recall it.

don’t remember too much, just that sanders sides was in it, and it also happened to be in some sort of high school campus?? or maybe a college campus,, idk the difference, all i know is that it was definitely a school and probably had dorms of some sort. janus was chasing the other sides, and while i don’t exactly recall why, i think he was trying to protect them from something?? because then some weird merge of natural disasters happened, it was like a tornado mixed with a sinkhole mixed with some other stuff i don’t remember.

and somewhere along the way i switched perspectives and now i was with the duck(mcduck?) family who were apparantly there now and were doing family stuff while some weird storm thing went on outside. and then i woke up.

honestly i’ve had weirder dreams.

59 — Do you like the snow?

i mean, i’ve only ever seen snow once in my life, and i was,, relatively young then,, so, i don’t remember much. but from what i do remember, i both loved it and hated it,, jdnskdndk. i didn’t like how cold it was(‘m floridian, ‘m not used to the cold, kdjskdn), but it was fun to play in.

62 — What makes you happy?

i guess being able to make other happy? (not at the expense of my own happiness, tho,,) i just, idk, really like it when people react positively to things i show them/things i make? idk if that’s the way to phrase it, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ words suck.

66 — Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

yea!!!

65 — Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

become incredibly anxious /j.

oki, but, seriously tho,, i,,,, do not know,,? i mean, if they are my best friend, then obviously i get along really well with them. so, i guess i wouldn’t be opposed to going out with them! (they’d have to make the first move tho, i cannot handle that sort of responsibility,, dmndkdmd). if it happens to not work out tho, whether it be because of one reason or another(whether ‘m aromantic, or we just. don’t click together in that way), ‘m not gonna let that ruin the friendship we already have!

68 — Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

uh,,, good question. i don’t think i can remember that far back,, kdnskdnkd. it’s probably either an internet friend, or an irl friendo,, depending on your definition of a “deep conversation”.

#zecori rambles #zecori answers #ask game #(half tempted to tag this friendo tag bc i have Suspicions (tm); dkmddkdkkskd) #oh and also. in that dream it may or may not have been a bit angsty #(patton may or may not have been on the verge of/was crying ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) #i don’t control what i dream i just dream #i remember rewatching the new of sanders sides shortl #*shortly before bed so that may or may not have influenced my dream #*somewhat #my phone is small and is making me #****making me press the enter button thing a lot and ‘m too tired to rewrite the sentences

[mowulf]

Misplaced

HEY GUESS WHO’S BACK Okay, here’s the deal. Half the reason I have a hard time posting stories on this site is that I’m no good at keeping up with the previous/next buttons. I hate it, it takes a lot of time, and I just don’t want to. SO I’m gonna get around this by just reblogging the original post with the next chapter every time I update this story on AO3. I am currently in the process of rewriting and only the first 1.5 chapters will remain the same. That said, here’s chapter 1!

He clawed his way to consciousness. His whole body ached and a dull, pounding pressure had built up behind his eyes. An unnatural energy hummed around him, but he ignored it in favor of trying to figure out where he was. Pushing himself to his knees, he immediately took note of the scorch marks surrounding him. They formed an intricate array that encircled him and he immediately recognized the markings as forming a part of a spell. He didn’t know what spell, or where the information had come from, but it made him nervous.

He scooted back and gently eased himself off the pedestal. The floor wasn’t too far and he landed with a hollow thump. Blinking, he scanned the room he found himself. It was dark, making it impossible to determine the exact size, but he could tell the room was massive. The pedestal he’d woken up on was one of four that decorated the center of the room and a nearby carpet led the way further into the gloom.

With nothing better to do, he followed it. Deeper and deeper into the darkness he moved. With time, his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Shadows danced in the corners of his vision, but when he turned to look closer, he found nothing there. Voices whispered at his feet, begging for release or someone to share in their torment. He carefully ignored them and kept moving. As long as he didn’t stop, he’d be fine.

Just keep going. Don’t stop, don’t ask, and don’t try to ask who was there.

Turning a corner, he paused at the slice of light that filtered through the crumbled section of wall. The light wasn’t blinding and he assumed it was dark out, but it was still enough to hurt his eyes as he approached and stepped through. He blinked rapidly to adjust to the abrupt change in lighting.

The hum of energy increased and a shudder ran down his spine. Invisible hands grabbed at him, trying to pull him back within the darkness, unwilling to let him leave. Without looking back, he marched onward, hands wrapped protectively around his chest.

Something followed him, he could feel it. The unnatural energy crackled and hummed and a memory of green fog danced across his mind. Shaking his head, he kept moving. As long as he didn’t look back, he’d be fine. Don’t stop. Keep moving. Don’t look back. Just a little bit further.

Abruptly, the energy seemed to go away and the unnatural hum died down to something annoying but tolerable. He didn’t stop to question the sudden change, but took the opportunity to charge ahead until he stumbled onto a road. He was still no closer to figuring out where he was, but where there was a road, there was bound to be a town. Picking a direction at random, he hugged the orange vest closer and began walking.

—

Morning found him curled up in the back of a pickup truck. The driver had found him walking and offered to give him a lift to the nearest town. He’d hopped into the truck bed and settled down. With the lack of movement, exhaustion had crept up and washed over him. He’d only meant to lay down for a moment.

He pushed himself up, blinked the sleep out of his eyes and grabbed blindly for the edge of the truck bed. There was a loud clank of metal hitting metal and he recoiled. It took him a moment of searching before his gaze finally fell on the metal fingers clinging to the truck.

Metal?

He pulled his hand up and wiggled his fingers. They responded as he expected, but the metal glint showed that they weren’t real. Just to make sure, he grabbed a finger and tugged gently. His brain registered the tug and the pressure of his flesh hand, but otherwise there was no sensation. How odd.

Where had it come from? Why was his arm missing? He sat down and wiggled his fingers again, trying to dig through and pull up the relevant memories. Nothing came at first and he started to give up when the impressions of sleepless nights, helplessness, and pain bubbled forth. The memories were disjointed and out of order and, as he sifted through them, he found gaps in the available knowledge.

There wasn’t time to deal with this. He had things to do. He had to figure out where he was, for one. Maybe find someone to help. The missing arm was a problem for tomorrow. Standing up again, he grabbed the edge of the truck bed and slipped out. Glancing at the truck one last time, he rubbed his shoulder where flesh met metal and began to walk away.

Keep going forward. Don’t look back.

He walked until he found a gas station and entered. He scanned the room and finally found the maps in a back corner. Meandering over, he pulled a map out and looked it over. Everything looked familiar in the sense that he had seen it before, but he couldn’t seem to draw on the information locked away in his brain.

Trauma? Concussion? Magic? There was something. He could feel it just out of reach. Every time he started to get close, a mental block would pop up and he’d shy away. Fine. He would worry about it later.

Making his way to the front, he eyed the inhabitants of the little store nervously. The map was spread on the counter as he looked up at the cashier. “Excuse me,” he asked, trying to ignore the way his voice shook and the hoarse quality from disuse (or had he screamed until his voice broke? He couldn’t be sure). “Can you tell me where I am?”

The cashier looked him over before leaning forward and tapping a small city on the map. “Right here. You alright kid?”

“’M fine.” It was a lie but it slipped out before he could come up with anything else to say. “Just lost.” He scanned the map until his gaze landed on a familiar city name. Shouting, engines, and gasoline fill his senses. Familiarity and safety. Home. He needed to go there.

He dug around in his pockets until he found a leather wallet. There was just enough cash for the map and a cup of coffee. He didn’t bother trying to use the card. A niggling feeling told him that it wouldn’t work and he couldn’t remember the PIN for it, anyways. As he left the gas station, map in one hand and coffee in the other, the hum of energy increased and he felt out of place, like he’d been badly photoshopped into an image.

He returned to the gas station once more, just long enough to get a sense of direction, and started walking. Midday rolled around and with it came the beginning of a headache. By the time the sun set, his head was pounding and his left shoulder throbbed in time with his pulse. A barely tolerable pain was coming. Something far worse than anything he would ever be capable of dealing with. But there was nothing he could do except grit his teeth and bear it.

Cars drove past and, for the most part, he ignored them. He was too tired and panicked to risk hitchhiking. It wasn’t until a car pulled off to the side a little ways ahead and someone stepped out that he finally stopped to consider.

“Are you okay?” a woman asked as she hurried over to him. He blinked back at her for a moment before he took a shuddery breath and shook his head. The woman reached out to him and said, “You poor dear. Where are you trying to go? Would you like a ride to the next city, at least? You’ll never make it on foot.”

He didn’t want to impose. The truck ride from earlier had been an ordeal, but she had a point. He couldn’t possibly walk everywhere, and maybe they could cut the travel time drastically. He clumsily pulled the map out of his pocket and held it out to here. “Um. I uh… Here.” He tapped a city that he had circled back when he’d first gotten the map and was again gifted with a sensation of comfort and promised familiarity.

“Oh, perfect!” The woman said as she grabbed his wrist and began to guide him to the car. “We’re actually planning to pass through there. We can give you a lift there. Here we go.”

They were a family of four: mom, dad, and two boys. He found himself in the back seat between the two brothers. The conversation was kept light and loose. For the most part he let the family drive the conversation, answering questions as needed and chiming in here and there.

All good things had to end eventually, however, and the family came to a hotel when the night was finally too dark and too late to keep going. For a moment, he considered staying. He had no money, and they were well aware that he had nothing to his name, but he couldn’t impose. Besides, as he waited by the car, the hissing energy prickled and nipped at his ankles and he knew he couldn’t stop even for rest.

He started to walk away when a hand grabbed his shoulder and he turned to see the mom. “Where are you going?” she asked. “It’s late. Come on, we’ll get you a room.”

He shook his head. “I-I-I’m sorry. I can’t. I- I just…” He rubbed at his eyes as the mom deflated.

“I understand. But please wait for just a minute, okay? I’ll be right back. Just a minute.” he didn’t even look up, too ashamed to risk seeing the disappointment. He waited until he felt her grab his flesh hand and press something papery into it. “It’s not much,” she said sadly. “We don’t carry a lot of cash and we don’t have a lot to spare, but it should be enough for food and a ticket to wherever you’re going.” He looked up and she gave him a sad smile. “Be careful, okay?” He nodded and she finally retreated back to her car.

How odd. He hadn’t realized just how starved for company he was until he’d been surrounded by conversation. But now he was alone. So very, very alone. He bit his lip and rubbed the port on his shoulder before finally turning away to continue his journey to wherever.

He didn’t sleep that night. He did, however, find a bus station that would take him straight to his destination. The pounding behind his eyes had steadily increased to a constant thrum and he found himself absently rubbing his temples while trying to avoid any and all sources of light.

Morning brought an entirely new level of hell. The intense migraine had brought along light sensitivity and nausea. What little money wasn’t spent on the bus ticket went to various over the counter pain killers and the strongest coffee he could find. As he resettled into his seat for the umpteenth time, he leaned against the cool window and closed his eyes. Perhaps if he could sneak a nap in, he would feel better.

He woke up to the bus about to leave his stop and only barely managed to get off in time.

It wasn’t hard for he to orient himself once he took the time to look around. One street sign and he knew what direction to take. The layout of the city came to him gradually as he walked, like a map in a video game that had to be filled in through exploration. With it came vague almost-impressions of a happy childhood spent running and playing and generally getting into trouble. He took his time walking until the familiar shop finally came into view. Hope bloomed and he dashed the final yards to the main office.

“Hello?” he called, looking around and trying to ignore the desperation in his voice. There was no answer, yet somehow he knew not to expect one. The shop had obviously been closed for the evening, which meant the work area would be deserted.

But the garage was built into a house. If he could just find the main entrance…

A quick search revealed a side entrance painted in such a way so as to not stand out. Hidden near the door, roughly hip height, was a doorbell which he pressed a couple times. It wasn’t long before heavy footsteps stomped over and the door flung open.

“What’d’ya want?” a rough voice snarled and he was hit with the impression of oil stains and endless patience. The word ‘lance’ danced around in his head but he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why the man reminded him of an ancient weapon.

The man’s gaze landed on him and his eyes widened in shock before narrowing. “If this is some kind of sick joke,” the man snarled and he recoiled, apologies spilling forth before the thought could be finished.

“I’m sorry! I’m sor- I-I-I, Hhhh- I didn’t know wher-where else to go!” He cowered, every instinct screaming to run away. He took a step back, still babbling in a slowly ramping panic. “I’m lost. Didn’t know where else to go. I thought you’d help me. I can leave. I’m sorry.” He turned and managed all of three steps before a rough hand grabbed his right arm and held him. With a frightened yelp, he dropped and twisted, metal arm bent to protect his head and face in preparation for the blows to come.

Instead, a familiar voice soothed, “Woah there, son! Not gonna hurt you. Just…” he glanced over, still hiding behind his arm, as the older man sighed. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside.”

It took some prodding and quite a bit of effort to get him inside. He was determined to leave, the previous impressions of warmth and safety long since replaced by fear and uncertainty, while the man seemed determined to get him inside. In the end, he found himself slung over the shorter mechanic’s shoulder and hauled inside, where he was quickly deposited on the couch.

“First things first, what’s yer name, kid?”

He dithered about, flesh fingers playing with the metal port attached to his shoulder as he weighed the pros and cons of giving an answer. Finally, he ducked his head and replied, “Arthur, sir. I think...” He missed the man flinch, expression twisting as though he’d expected the answer though it still hurt.

“Drop that ‘sir’ business. It’s Lance. And hold your head up! God, yer a sorry sight.” Lance looked Arthur over before holding up a hand. “You can sleep on the couch. We’ll deal with… this,” Lance gestured at Arthur, “in the morning.”

Arthur nodded and moved to sprawl on the leather couch as Lance left the room. He’d just gotten comfortable when the man reappeared with a blanket and a pillow. The pillow was handed over and Arthur quickly readjusted himself before the blanket was unfolded and draped over him. Nothing else was said as the light was turned off and Lance retreated for the night.

Left alone, Arthur tried to settle down to sleep. It wasn’t long before the unnatural hum of energy returned in full force. His skin crawled with it and he quickly gave up on sleep. Throwing the blanket aside, he jumped up and began to pace. Keep moving. Don’t stop. As long as he kept moving, the energy couldn’t find him and he’d be safe.

Safe from what, he didn’t know, nor did he want to find out. He just knew that stopping was bad. Needless to say, he didn’t get much rest that night.

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#msa #misplaced #fanfiction #I'm back baby