Is that Ferid in your profile pic? Who is the other character? 👀
Who is this ferid you are speaking of................ I know not of that horrid man!!!!!!
The people in my profile picture (drawn by the most incredible @lovelizards !!!) are my characters Grim and Mori from my story My Dear Old Friend, The Raven! Grim is the Grim Reaper, the living undead personification of Death himself, and Mori is just a little unfortunate deer slave who he saved because he thought they were so sweet (both in personality and taste) and who is Grim's current most beloved possession and obsession. They are just a little guy trying their best. They love it with him!! Just ask them!!
And I am offended you would liken my beautiful perfect entirely original evil man to another long white haired vampire guy who is evil and has his hair tied up in a bow and has sadistic tendencies and is a little bit (a lot) fucked up and is very powerful and beloved. By me. How dare you!!
................ So um. yes Grim was partly inspired by ferid absolutely have you seen him. I love ferid hes so awful and silly and beautiful and i haven't read the most recent chapters but it is safe to say i wish the manga was better :( still though ferid is beloved tier and a personal obsession of mine so ofc im gonna make a character based off of him (PARTLY! GRIM IS NOT LITERALLY FERID WITH A DIFFERENT PROFESSION! THEY JUST SHARE A SIMILAR LOOK AND THEY'RE BOTH VAMPIRIC AND EVIL!! THATS PRETTY MUCH IT)
Look at him.... Silly guy......... I hate you evil vampire man. .. who I love dearly...
Silly ... Auden is incredibly silly... Just the silliest little thing
CWs: none!
“You want to ask me something.”
Not a question. Auden considers pretending, acting like the Reaper's assumption is wrong. He quickly thinks better of it. — "I-It is nothing important," — he settles on instead, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards when Grim tilts his head at him. He already knows there is no way he'll let it go.
"Of course it isn't. That is why I asked."
"It's stupid," — Auden tries again half-heartedly, but Grim only hums impatiently, setting his chin onto his palm. — "You're only making me more curious."
His eyes are playful; he looks like he's in a good mood. It only takes a little more pouting and whining for Auden to finally give in, at first mumbling under his breath, and then trying again a little louder when he is cut off for it.
“I w-was just um, thinking about, if u-uhm... — The angel swallows, fruitlessly stalling for time, before he finally spits it out; — "ih-, if, 'Grim' is your, um... f-first name.”
After he finishes his awkward stammering, there is a moment that feels like it lasts a few seconds longer than it should, where the deity's brows raise and nothing is said.
...Then his devilish façade breaks so quickly it surprises even himself. His laugh is genuine, closer to a cackle really. It bubbles out of him without his permission, crashing against the side of his hand.
"Wha-hat?" — he coughs, pushing knuckles against his teeth to quieten his giggling.
He has that certain shine to his eyes he gets sometimes, when Auden says something so unbelievably stupid that he can't believe it. It withers the angel's soul every time it happens — and he always looks so happy about it too. Auden remembers him saying something about how he loves being surprised — since so few people ever manage it. It would be impressive just how many times this has happened in the short time they have known each other; if only Auden was ever doing it on purpose.
The angel whines, covering his tomato red face, groaning; — "I said it was going to be stupid..." — He isn't even really trying to speak loudly enough to be heard over the Reaper's cackling.
"No, no, not at all," — Grim manages, clearly struggling to keep tremor of laughter out of his voice long enough to say this. — "Repeat it for me?"
He tugs on a lock of Auden's hair, and it sends the angel's heart drumming despite the harmlessness of it. Any sort of contact with the Reaper is overwhelming; — whether he means to terrify or not, the air itself trembles at his presence. Auden lets him do as he pleases, but he cannot bring himself to do as he is told.
Grim leans in a little closer. — "There is no use biting your tongue now. Just say it one more time for me."
The Fallen takes a long, deep breath, his eyes screwed shut. Despite his hesitance, he ends up repeating what he had asked. — "I was, was wondering about... your name. If Grim is your first... name... I-I do not know why, it does not even make any sense — "
The Reaper's grin is wide enough to show every single one of his sharp teeth. Auden feels so small under his degrading gaze. — "Hah-ha! Yes, I see. First name Grim, last name Reaper. What about the 'The'? An honorific?"
Auden is sure of it now. Nothing anybody else could come up with to humiliate him will ever bring more shame to him than he does to himself on a daily basis. He ought to be used to it by now at least... Unfortunately, the tears spring forth beckoned by the Reaper's mocking laughter, as usual.
"Oh, my dear. Oh, you silly little thing... Do not weep now, shh..." — His palm is cold against Auden's burning cheeks, an approximation of comfort, but his tone remains bubbling with humour. — "Won't you elucidate me on what spurred such a brilliant question?"
Rubbing at his eyes, the angel sniffles sadly. — "Well, Mori, um, called you 'Master Grim', and, and that made me wonder if, i-if it is your... name..."
He hums happily, — "I see." — Auden must look even more pitiful than he feels, because the Reaper doesn't look for any more ways to mock him. Instead, he reaches for a napkin and offers it to the snotty little angel. — "I have told you already; I have no name. My old friend calls me that. I assume Mori picked it up from him. I would advise you not to do as they have and name your master what I call him. I suspect your Lord would not take very kindly to my nicknames said from your tongue.”
They sit like that for a while, Auden stewing in his misery, the Reaper content watching him. — "You know, most people when pressed for an answer would make something up to avoid silly situations like this." — He leans onto his hand, admiring the way Auden's tears shimmer. — "I'm glad you do not; I am so glad."
<3
Mastelist | Ko-fi
Taglist (tagged in everything I write): @morning-star-whump @whumprince @a-living-canvas @sirnef-fenris
Grim could take my blood. IF he wanted to. I would not be against it -
Your confession, whether aimed at him or not, finds its way flawlessly to its target. The corners of his eyes narrow with his pleasant smile. — "Is that so?" — he asks, tilting his head.
He stands before you with his hands held behind him in faux decorum. His claws may be hidden out of sight, but his height remains just as intimidating as he comes to tower over you. You try matching his steps in flustered response, skipping back with your hands waving before you in apology — before he catches your right, and pulls you back with ease.
You panic, expecting pain, some sort of retribution or punishment. Something vicious and gruesome and grotesque, an act synonymous with the Reaper's infamous love for carnage.
You brace for naught. All that your flesh receives is the tender brush of his lips holding your hand hostage. As he looks up, his eyes remain half lidded, an expression wickedly beguiling, so much so that one might forget to pull away. — "What a truly generous offer."
Your heart beats faster. A potent ancient fear courses through you as the deity straightens, not letting go just yet. Worse still, he tightens his hold ever so slightly, and with a mischievous look about him, he adds; — "shameless too."
Keeping the quiver out of your knees becomes impossible. Once the situation becomes tangible, you look for a way out, but to no avail. He lifts your hand high, higher still to bring it close to him. The way he holds you has you balancing on the balls of your feet, watching wearily as he turns your hand.
"You have to be careful saying things like that out loud. You never know who might hear..."
He lays special care to the inside of your wrist, his kisses soft and careful, feeling along your pulse, then deepen unexpectedly, licking up the length of your forearm, nibbling over your twitching flesh.
Once satisfied with the shade of crimson upon your cheeks, he lets up on your vulnerable skin, beaming. He pulls you close without warning, his breath cool against your temple. — "Keep your little perversions a secret," — he rumbles, then lower, against the tip of your burning ear; — "I do not enjoy sharing."
A devilish cackle is all you hear before he takes you by the hand and twirls you around, around and around, until you lose his guiding hold, and find yourself dizzy; skin unnicked, but red all the same, alone.
Can you give us a little spoiler on how His Majesty feels like about Auden? 👉👈🥺
YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ UNFINISHED DIALOGUE. PROCEED KNOWING THAT THIS IS A WIP AND NOT THE FINAL PRODUCT.
^^^
It cannot be helped. Leaning forward on his throne, the demon puts out an inviting hand, smiling at Auden encouragingly. — “Your feet have carried you this far, little one. Come, let me see you.”
Auden's feet move before he could tell them to. They bring him over, right over to where the two deities await him, and his knees buckle at the bottom of the staircase, where he crawls the rest of the way. Step by step, he soon drags his trembling body up to that hand — gentle, kind, waiting. Must be soft, and warm. He wants to touch it, needs to lay his head onto it. Has to, has to. It feels like a choice, but it equally doesn't. He needs to obey, and he wants to. Disobedience is not a thing that exists, and why would he not do as he was asked even if it did?
Those dark eyes scare him, but they are friendly. Like the Reaper's, must be like the Reaper's. There is safety in that dangerous glint. Auden is confused now, why he is so scared. He is terrified and mesmerised. It feels like his lungs are about to crawl out of his chest.
The demon’s thumb catches a tear, and then another. Auden has fallen boneless in his hold, not an ounce of defiance in him. Most angels are like this. — “There there. All better already. What a young little dove you have brought me, Grim. He could fall to pieces in my hand. Delicate as crystal-glass.”
“Small, isn't he?” — comes the Reaper’s voice from somewhere behind Auden. It sends a shiver down his spine, this leering ogling from both sides. His throat lets a whine slip.
The demon's gentle hush relaxes him into thoughtlessness. — “Indeed. A Guardian?”
Grim grins. — “No doubt about it.”
“How sweet. A vehement sense of duty you must have then, to have been chosen still despite your stature.”
Grim only laughs. A knowing, cruel cackle. — “As I have said. No doubt.”
“You like him?”
“Very much so. I find him hilarious." "You should ask him that same question; I wonder what he would tell you.”
...
I think his majesty's first impression is a positive one! He is already being endeared to this pitiful little angel boy <3 Auden's charm is powerful he cannot stop having deities fawn over him he is so sad and pathetic 😔🫶
Hey Daddy Grim it's me- ya boy. Looking for another pet yet? I've heard there are some great ones in the market right now :) (It's me) Sorry I've been absent, I'll always be your #1 simp.
"What a strange title you have given me;" — he muses under his breath, a little perplexed. Giggling the longer he wonders about it, though he keeps his further thoughts on it to himself, his amusement remains clear. — "Well, 'my boy', while I appreciate the rather enthusiastic offer, I am afraid you are mistaking me for someone else. May I recommend you try your luck with your benevolent Lord instead? Home welcomes all, and there are plenty of empty rooms waiting to be filled. I think you would fit right in."
Seeing your dejected frown, and especially your lacking sense of personal space, you feel the blade of his heavy scythe settle under your chin, effectively keeping you at arm's length; for both of your sakes. — "However, if part of your fantasy is to be bought, I will have to disappoint you again. I am not one to shop around, and neither is he. Not for pets, leastways. Perhaps the Market could satisfy you best. Merchants have a sharp eye for prime merchandise; you would not have to wait long to be picked up — off the street or out of a cage. Whichever you prefer."
What he said to you you somehow take as a compliment. The blade nicks your throat as he pushes you off of it; gently, despite your strange behaviour, and he turns to leave. — "Go now; bother someone else."
Unbeknownst to you — or rather apparent, once he says that — in his head, he has now categorised you as 'one of those'. Not the first, certainly not the last, but the most forward one by far. He does not elaborate, and he doesn't wait for you to either, having already slipped away somewhere you cannot follow.
...can we see the doctor again please. hello doctor how are you i miss you...
Deep beneath Home lies a cavernous labyrinth, an immeasurable catacomb where nothing but dread and terror can be found.
The servants always whisper about it like it's alive. The good ones anyway. The bad ones are well-acquainted with the embossed wallpaper lining the walls and the cracking echoes of the wailing they dampen.
The dungeon is also where the clinic is located, where the Doctor spends most of its days.
If you must bother it, have patience and fortune. Since it is such a busy creature, finding it is no easy feat. When it is not taking care of the servants who got themselves caught under the demon lord's gaze, then it is occupied by the progress of its experiments, or caught up with the fascination for something new. If not that, then it is out, looking for new inspiration, or paying a visit to a poor bastard that has no other choice but to lie under its blade. If not that still, then it is hiding away somewhere, cooped up in a corner with a book as thick as it is tall to analyse and memorise.
So, where is it now?
You find its shadowy-slim form bent over a desk in its office, deep in the heart of this maze. All manner of documents surround it; piles on piles of files in distressing disorder. The mess does not reach past the table, so perhaps the state of things is not always so dire.
In the midst of it all is a book with empty pages, given personality through the pen the Doctor holds. It uses careful strokes, fully engrossed in its anatomical work. You do not recognise what sort of creature it is immortalising from its insides alone, but you can more than well tell that the level of detail with which it illustrates each organ can only come from thorough up close observation of a real cadaver.
In your excitement at finally getting the chance to see it again, you blurt out your silly question without making yourself known first, and surprise it more than a little. Its hand slips, and the picture is ruined.
For a moment, in the pause following the scratch of the quill on paper, it sits frozen, staring at the page. Then it slowly raises its head. Those eyes are wild with fury, glowing yellow in the candlelight, but unable to find you.
This fact does not stop its demand from entering your mind like a thousand razorblades.
"Who."
You grow dizzy from the intensity of its 'voice'. It's not something most have the displeasure to experience; to have a second consciousness enter the mind at will and communicate that way. The word appears without your consent and doesn't disappear despite the pressure it builds behind your eyes.
You apologise for startling it, and guide its eyes to your ethereal form, explaining that this is the only way you can exist here. Its head tilts as it watches the ripples in space where you stand. If it weren't so annoyed already, it may have found your existence an intriguing phenomenon. As it stands however, it only huffs, ears twitching. It seems to have already made up its mind about you.
"Spirits haunting the lower levels... One of mine or one of his? Surely mine. Is that why you're here?"
Spirits? — "No, no," — you explain, — "not a spirit, just a visitor!" — The doctor doesn't seem to care about what you have to say.
"Death is not something I can cure. But you..." — It stands abruptly, its claws curling into the ruined drawing and tearing it from the journal as he does. — "You better pray that I cannot figure out a way to strangle you to death a second time."
A hurricane would have passed through you gentler than it does, ignoring your very existence and slamming the door behind itself. As it storms down the hall, you hear its voice fade.
"Cannot fucking believe this."
It probably went off to distract itself with a patient. Or to talk to His Majesty about the ghost problem again. Either way, you never quite managed to tell it all that you meant to.
Related to whumping or not, what is Whumper's biggest dream or goal in life?
Grim doesn't have a goal. All he really desires is to continue being a thorn in the side of every living creature, no matter how much power they may hold. He loves being the one thing that nobody can ignore not even His Majesty as long as he gets to indulge and have fun, and as long as the hierarchies set in place Remain in place as they should, he couldn't ask for more
Miss Thu'lin really wanted to have finally finished her angel museum :/ perhaps she is not quite done with Auden yet. She also wants an ever larger piece of that proverbial pie, and does her damnedest to acquire as much power and influence as possible to solidify herself as high on the food chain as possible
All the Doctor wants is the deepest possible understanding of the body and its workings. All bodies, not just mortals'. It cannot create the way His Majesty or the Forsaken can, but that's probably for the better, since it would only create abominations unfit for existence of any sort
His Majesty wants many things! Total control over Earth, for one — though the only reason free humans still exist to fight him is solely because of him, and he finds great joy in that, just as he finds great joy in testing humans' tenacity, faith and bodies — but really, this goal has already been achieved. Another goal he has is creating a being even more ambitious and unique than humans. He has created many creatures, ones that are stronger, smarter, more diligent, more submissive. But humans are so... Perfect. It infuriates him. He would also like to make it so nobody even remembers another god exists besides him. Right now they remember their Forsaker, but not even He is immune to erosion, and so His Majesty is working diligently to crush His memory out of every human mind, present and future.
He wants a world carved to his tastes. He wants mortals, demons and angels to bow to him alone. He wants to find a way to tame Death, or become invulnerable to him since his last attempt was a failure He wants control over absolutely everything in existence. He one day wants to enter the Heavens again, and seize them for himself as well.
His one true goal is to become the one and only true God, of all realms, and all living things. Quite the lofty aspirations, but if not him, then who?
