#mod gwaaaaar

[mazm-imagines]

🎃Trick or Treat!🎃

Happppppy Halloween! I'm opening my inbox back up! For the time between October 31st to Nov 7th, I will be opening my inbox for trick or treat asks! Basically: You go trick or treating to a MazM character of your choice. And they'll... give you something :)

Regular rules apply, BUT oc asks are allowed!

Tag for this event is: Trick or Treat Event

[mazm-imagines]

JESUS CHRIST 99 LIKES i see you... new perspn... hi

[mazm-imagines]

MazM week 2024 prompts!

ThIS YEAR WE GOT!!!

Day 1, Oct 27: Fear

Day 2, Oct 28: Life

Day 3, Oct 29: Persecution

Day 4, Oct 30: Loyalty

Day 5, Oct 31: Fire

Day 6, Nov 01: Guidance

Day 7, Nov 02: Estrangment

IM SO SORRY FOR POSTING THIS LATE. ladies ladies... youre allowed to hit me with bricks for this one. If everyone needs an extension or something please comment/dm and i can change the dates. I want everyone to be able to participate!

[mazm-imagines]

HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY TO MY WIFE

Sorry no lilies and deliveries this year :( unless the artists gets back to me but no pressure for that its just unfortunate timing. Still wanted to draw something for alan though! I feel like its not good enough, but i had this idea for ages.

[mazm-imagines]

Please donate to @ahmedalnajjer

Donate to Urgent Aid for Ahmed's Family in Palestine, organized by Eliana Moorhead

This is Ahmed Al-Najjar (20 y/o) from Khuza'a, Khan Younis, Palestine. He i… Eliana Moorhead needs your support for Urgent Aid for Ahmed's F

They're at $8,665 raised from $10K goal! Just a little under 1.4k left. If you have any money you could spare please do so!

[mazm-imagines]

MazM week Day 2 entry for Life! SORRY if this is both bad i just. don't care for victor lolol. 890 words below the cut.

Victor was starting to lose track of his memories these days. Every waking moment of his newfound recluse life was dedicated to making another life.

Health, love, happiness, sanitation, all discarded to the floor alongside the dirty mat he slept on. 

He was only 19, and his hair had already started greying. Victor wasn't a shallow man but... it bothered him nonetheless.

When he bothered to read the letters accumulated on his floor— courtesy of Hanna being kind enough to slip them underneath— he found that he couldn’t recognize the names addressing him at all.

Elizabeth and Henry…

As he attempted to recall the names, he felt his head throb heavy with a feeling he could only describe as a void.

A void that threatened to suck up the rest of his life whole until nothing of worth could be found.

He was fortunate Hanna had found him passed out in front of his door. With her aid he was eventually able to stand back on his own two feet.

But now he knew he was missing something. Memories that carved their way into his heart now slipped through his fingers. 

It didn’t bother him much, considering he expected it to happen eventually. Working with the Nepis he had, butchering them on a frequent basis. They were bound to have eaten a memory of two as he sewed them back to life. He only hoped they wouldn’t eat his tuition right out his skull.

What he wished he could have forgotten was the day he was caught red handed stealing cadavers right from the morgue. Embarrassing of course, but utterly mortifying as the owner of said corpses pinned him against the morgue door with his mere presence. 

Noah was well known as a scathingly calculating businessman by the residents of the tower. Prior to that night, Noah had always greeted him kindly with a good morning and a hello. Victor had underestimated the man’s wrath, and went for the steal.

How foolish he was.

He could never forget the low growl that purred in his ear. The growl that told him to never step foot in his store again lest he’d break Victor’s thieving hands. The man certainly seemed to have the strength to do so compared to Victor’s own lanky limbs.

And fortunately Noah could listen to money as Victor paid him for his silence. What Victor couldn’t pay for though was Noah’s courtesy, as the man’s cold blue eyes pierced right through his head.

It was terrifying how well Noah had kept his composure in the face of robbery, all the while Victor trembled like a mere mouse.

He shivered into the cup of tea he was drinking. 

Why did the Nepis not take that memory instead? He bemoaned to himself. His self-allotted break of 5 minutes was nearly over, and he wasted it all on recalling memories he didn’t want to.

With a pat of his pants that would never quite rid himself of the filth that caked them, Victor finally stood back up.

There was no point looking back at the past anymore. Not when he was sure his future would be oh-so-very bright with prospects.

He would create a new race of humans, all thankful to him for their feeble existence. A god-! A god. That’s what he would be.

Noah was a faithful devotee of his God, and the first thing Victor would do with his creation would be to show him his place.

Victor laughed to himself in the dead air. A maddened gleam clouded his eyes with his ambition.

No. He wouldn’t have done something as shallow as that with his magnum opus. But the idea was certainly tempting. To strike an equal amount of terror into the man exactly as he had done to him.

He approached the table hosting the torso he cultivated for his project. The patchwork of different skin tones had at first upset his sense of aesthetics. Yet now that he had a limited supply to work from, he couldn’t complain any longer. As long as his creation was functional, that was all he could ask for really.

Failure after failure, loss after loss: none had chipped his pride yet. His patience however had lost a bit of gallantry, no longer pushing him to wait for something better. 

His coal black eyes scanned over his journal, ensuring he still remembered where he last stopped.

Ah yes. Imbuing the body with vitality.

He had extracted a useless memory— courtesy of a Nepi— for that exact purpose. He held the small darkened crystal in his hand. It almost looked to be a shimmering black pearl in the dim candlelight. And the torso would be the oyster it found its home in.

With a practice hand, Victor inserted it right into the abdomen. Not a trace of blood was found on his calloused hands as he drained the body of it all prior. 

Nothing would happen as of then. After all, the body had no blood to pump through its cardiovascular system. But he held utmost faith that his method would be well-rewarded soon.

Soon it would all be worth it. His miserably empty life would find meaning in becoming a god in the barest of terms. 

He just hoped he could live long enough to see his dream fulfilled…

[mazm-imagines]

Notice! (NOT THE END OF THIS ACCOUNT I PROMMY)

Aheeem aheem wheemper...

Hi guys. Sorry for making false assurances again... just forgor to get to the halloween asks even over my fall break. However I do want to talk about certain things. I want to explain this creative block and for a moment just be vulnerable on here. There's been so much in my life right now I've been feelin like dogshit and then last night i was talking to a friend snd it all clicked. This is a really long post so I'll put it under a cut.

I have to admit... my passion for mazm is dwindling a bit. I wont be dropping the blog or anything not at all. The memories I've made here cheered me up when I was at my worst moments.

I like to write and draw to make people happy. I remember when I was 12, I came onto mazm tumblr tags to just look at things. I came across an incorrect quotes blog, and while I don't think it was the highest effort content, it still put a smile on my face because I could tell whoever ran it was passionate. People were passionate. The mod left around 2020ish??? And i remembered being so sad.

It's hard to make content for small fandoms. Heaven only knows others have it worse... some only have 3 people instead of 5/lh

I've watched mutuals leave the fandom as they lost interest. Which is completely normal like it happens. But it just. Sucks. Its hard to make art/writing when you dont have people to exchange ideas with. I know I should be writing for myself, but I also would like to know that there are people reading and watching. I want to make people happy in the same way i was happy in the past.

But the dwindling activity on here + the lack of participation in the community events such as MazM week makes me want to give up trying sometimes. Not giving up trying to write nor answer asks by any means. I do those of my free will. But give up trying to reach out. I absolutely hate forcing interest, i don't like to harass others.

As i grow older, and younger members join the fandom, i start to feel a disconnect. Not because they are doing anything wrong, and I am happy that children get to enjoy MazM the same way i used to. It's more that my tastes mature, but i don't have anyone to discuss it with. It feels strange.

There's also the fact that I've always been more fond of MazMs original works such as Pechka, Thy Creature, and Hyde and Seek. I like Phantom of the Operas more original aspects ironically, but was never quite fond of Jekyll and Hyde. I often think a large part of MazM discussions involve the adaptations rather than the original aspects. Which again, I feel a bit out of place with.

All of this, and it starts feeling a bit lonely... I must be self pitying because the discord is pretty alive and I do see people in the tags. I appreciate all the creators i see, from the bottom of my heart. Everyone that creates something or speaks their mind or participates, that is what keeps it alive. If anyone ever wants to reach out to me I am more than happy to talk and share ideas.

But I've felt my old work was juvenile. I keep rereading my current work and looking at my current art. I keep feeling "not enough". Its leaked over to my other interests too like IDV. I have to drop one of my biggest projects because I've lost passion for some of the characters due to lore shit. And the other fic, I just couldn't read my prose without cringing. Which sucked because that project was for myself, it wasn't meant to be serious it was just yume shit. But... maybe that just reflects upon how I feel with myself now. That if no one reads, then I must be doing something wrong.

I love mazm from the bottom of my heart, I admire the team so much. It's why I started to draw seriously, it's why i started to read and analyze seriously and heavily influenced my writing. I AM MAZM FAN NUMBER 1!!! i am super excited for the new edgar allen poe game of course i am. It's just seeing the team members leave one by one and the format change so drastically... i don't know. The magic is different. But I will always support MazM despite it all.

So this is where I am now. Burnt out, unable to look at my own creations properly, cold lasagne hate myself. All very kafkaesque im sure. I don't want to put out low effort posts, so that's why I've just been keeping my askbox preserved. To all the people that sent me asks, thank you so so so much. You guys are the reason i am not letting this blog go anywhere. And I am very sorry to keep you all waiting.

[mazm-imagines]

Mazm week day 7 entry for estrangement. FINALLY IM DONE HELLLLL YEAH! 517 words under the cut!

“Kay…” The name was softly uttered from across the room, almost imperceptible if it wasn't for the fact it was near silent. 

“What is it Pollie?” He half wanted to say ‘can it wait until tomorrow?’ as he was nested comfortably in his bed. But he resolved to have been kinder towards her. The best way to have done that was with his words first.

“Sorry… it's- do you miss anyone from London?” Pollie whispered from her bed. 

“That's- sudden.” 

“I know. I know. It's been a while. It's- when I read that letter from Alan… I miss his smile y'know? His stupid nagging… He's still nagging but it feels different. Then I think about Gramps and his nagging…” In the dim moonlight, Kay could make out the features of Pollie grow sad. In turn his own lips curled into a frown. 

Why did Pollie have to remind him of his own plight? Had she thought he'd move on already just because his last encounter with the man was negative? 

His own mentor, attempting to kill him.

It made the departure easier, but now he'd have to deal with the aftermath. 

“I miss Alan too. Miss Mihir…” 

“Of course you miss him.” The statement sounded almost jealous, or even harsh, but Kay knew it was just an attempt to lighten the mood. Besides, she had her own score to settle with the man that she never quite could.

“Oh stuff it! I won't talk to you for the rest of the night if you'll be like this…” 

“I'm kiddin’! I'm kiddin’… I understand. He's the one that got us here in the first place…” 

“Yes…” And finally did they run out of anything else to say for that night. But there was much to ponder then.

Kay hoped Jekyll was safe, maybe even happy, even though he had wronged him in such a terrible way. 

It was heartbreak, it was cathartic. So much and so little.

Perhaps he should've seen it from the start, from the very moment he was placed under his care. 

Father Michael was gentle, supportive of all his endeavors even if they ended in failure. Those failures were a learning experience, he had said. It was best to get lost in science. 

And Jekyll… his approach was what one could call pragmatic. Sure for the sake of humanity, but… oddly self-serving. 

And the fruits of his seperation of duality… its fangs, its sharp claws. What he created was no longer human.

The concept in itself was flawed from the beginning. Perhaps he should've stopped him before he'd ever given life to the idea. But he knew no matter what he would've done, this would've been the outcome. 

He was more than willing to make amends, to do something useful. And Jekyll… had thrown him out before his real potential began.

The only authority he could've trusted was Father Michael, it was apparent. He would now dedicate his achievements to Father and Father alone. That much brought peace in his heart despite his newfound estrangement. 

Jekyll was nothing to him, and that was alright.