Hi ^_^ Iâm Mochi! I write, make stimboards, and draw!
My stimboard blog: @toastedstims
My tip jar đ¸
More info below the cut:
My spinterests: PokĂŠmon, horror, food/cooking, Chinese & Japanese cuisine, salamanders + amphibians, Snoopy, plushies C:
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I am an adult intersex trans woman and a poly bi aro lesbian. I am also a man on occasion. Please donât use neutral terms for me. Masc and fem ones are both a-okay đ
I donât care about discourse I will just block you.
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I have side blogs that Iâm also very active on! ⤾ď¸
Xandraâs blog: @archangelofretribution
Willâs blog: @buryyourfaggots
Delle's blog: @virtualcrosier
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Mutuals please tag discourse, reblog bait, unreality, scopophobia, and pictures/drawings/mentions of the moon. A good catch-all tag is âmochi dont lookâ. For more info on my selenophobia, check out this post. Thank you!
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Mutuals can ask for my discord and simply plural!
More of my headmatesâ sideblogs can be found here!
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Dyke skitty graphic from here!
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If you make it this far leave a like! And also hereâs some flowers for u <3 đ¸đźđşđťđźđşđˇđźđşđˇđ¸
It was something Pac could never get used to. The sudden shocks of light in the darkness, the earth-shaking booms of the thunder, the water pounding against the windows, begging to be let in.
Others had made fun of him, called him childish, but never Mike. His partner held him through it all, keeping him close during the night and shielding him from the windows during the day. Mike never ridiculed him, never questioned it, he simply accepted Pacâs fear for what it was.
Mike is gone now.
â
In which Pac receives comfort from an unlikely source.
He feels adrift, the tides of non-existence pulling upon his mind as the waves of the void he finds himself in keep him afloat.
His name is William, he recalls.
He is William Wisp and his soul has lost its tether. He is William Wisp and he is adrift in an endless sea of unconsciousness.
â
William is adrift with no anchor. Dakota struggles to tread enough water for the both of them. Their bodies may be on dry land, but their souls are being swallowed by the sea.
â You can also read this on ao3! â
Reblogs are super appreciated ^_^ <3 Happy reading!
â
This fic features stylized blood, blood loss, dissociation, and derealization. Itâs not super graphic, but do approach with caution if these things make you uncomfortable.
This fic contains spoilers for season 2 episode 22 of Prime Defenders.
â
He feels adrift, the tides of non-existence pulling upon his mind as the waves of the void he finds himself in keep him afloat.
He thinks maybe he could see stars, if he could figure out which direction was up.
Heâs fuzzy, faded, like a video transmission sent through twenty layers of concrete, soil, and the thick, cold oak of a coffin.
Who was he, again? Does it matter, really, when nothing else around him is anything either?
He feels as if he should have a name, perhaps a family, friends, maybe a dog or something. Not that he really knows what those things are. Theyâre more of a concept, really.
He can feel the waves of radiation that beam endlessly through the universe refracting through what must be his body. He is suspended, the only thing keeping him present that gentle yet sturdy ebb and flow beneath him.
He focuses on it, reaching for something to hold onto and tether his soul to again. That steady motion, like waves, or a march, or a heartbeat. Perhaps itâs the beat of a distant starâs funeral dirge.
His name is William, he recalls as the sensation beneath him grows firmer. He is William Wisp and his soul has lost its tether. He is William Wisp and he is adrift in an endless sea of unconsciousness. He pushes further, grasping with his mind for any shred of sensation.
Something sturdy is holding William up, something strong and firm. William can feel its pressure, the way it presses up against his neck and the backs of his knees.
His name is William.
William has a physical body.
There is light seeping through the thin skin of his eyelids, garish in its brilliance as William manages to drag himself back to the world of the living. He attempts to crack an eye open and immediately winces as it blinds him, its presence so intense after the darkness of the beyond.
He hears someone gasp somewhere close by. Williamâs head is pushed a little as the surface heâs resting it upon moves with the sound.
âWill? Will, are you awake, man?â they ask urgently, the anticipation in their tone grating against his ears.
William grunts a little, still struggling to open his eyes.
âOh, thankâshit, man! Donât try to move too much, youâll hurt yourself even more!â
William manages to frown a bit, confused by what this increasingly familiar voice is saying. Surely if he was hurt heâd feel it.
âWhat.. happenedâŚ?â he struggles to get out, his teeth grinding and his throat feeling as if it was rubbed raw with sandpaper. âWhereâŚ?â
He feels the ebb and flow of the pace beneath him quicken into a jog.
âWhoââ
âDonât try to talk, dude! Youâre fine, youâre gonna be okay, I promise! Justâjust, uh, stay still! Iâll get you somewhere that can help, probably. Youâll be fine!â the person carrying William stutters out rapidly, sounding a little breathless.
Naturally, he immediately ignores their advice and takes a stab at opening his eyes again.
The light is less sharp, this time. Bearable. It leaves dappled shadows on Williamâs face from where it shines through a verdant canopy. The sound of dirt and gravel crunching beneath boots mingles with the babbling of a creek nearby.
Thereâs a shock of red disrupting the scenery, frizzy and splayed in every direction.
âDakota?â
Dakota glances down at William, his pupils pinpricks of terror. âDonât fucking talk, dude! Youâre fine! Weâre fine! Itâs fine!â
âWhat the hell are you talking about, man?â God Williamâs head fucking hurts.
Dakota is blinking rapidly, as if heâs fighting off tears. His hold on Will tightens. If this were any other scenario, William would probably be blushing. Internally, at least.
âLook, dude, you justâfuck, man, you just fucking collapsed out of nowhere! There was, like, blood and shit, I donât know! You said you were just going for a walk but I followed you cuz you never fucking do that and then you dropped! You scared the shit out of me, man!â
âDakota, itâsâitâs fine! I feel fine, man, itâs all good!â William is pointedly ignoring the strange blue substance thatâs left streak marks on his arms. âI canât even feel anything, Dakota! Can you slow down?â
Dakota is speeding up, now at a full run as he crashes through bushes and ducks under low hanging branches.
âDakota, come on, Iâm fine! I donât get why all this is aboutââ
âYouâre supposed to feel, William! I gave you my fucking heart!â
âAh, rightâŚâ
âIâm taking you to Dr. Cross, okay? Heâll know what to do, maybe! We wouldâve driven but even without the crazy heart Iâm still the fastest out of all of us.â
William is beginning to think he might be in shock. Thatâs what happens when you experience traumatic bodily injury, right? He thinks so, at least. Although, itâs a bit hard to tell if heâs just numb from adrenaline and pain or if his heart has stopped beating altogether.
A pang of guilt flies through his gut as he looks up at Dakotaâs panic stricken face. Sure, it probably wasnât the smartest idea to go try to find a ping on the Tricksterâs location alone, but he really didnât want the others to know he had a lead yet. It wasnât so much that William was keeping it from them, but more like he just wasnât ready to accept the reality of the situation himself.
He wishes he could remember why he collapsed. He wishes he could wipe that look off of Dakotaâs face even more.
Shakily, William reaches a hand up to Dakotaâs cheekbone, a smear of dark blue painting his skin as Williamâs fingers ghost over it. Itâs kind of pretty in contrast to Dakotas bright cherry red hair.
William thinks there might be a bit too much of this blue stuff leaking out of him. His vision is starting to blur, the colours all bleeding together like some kind of abstract art.
âDakota?â
âYeah, Will?â
âHas anyone ever told you youâre really pretty?â
Dakota makes a sound like someone had just punched him in the throat. âWilliam, I think youâre bleeding out, dude.â
âEh, who needs blood anyway? Just give this stuff back to Vyncent.â
âThis is serious, dude. Whâare you closing your eyes?!â
William shoves his face into Dakotaâs shoulder, trying to ignore the way the world is spinning. âMm just.. a lil tiredâŚâ he mumbles into the thick fabric of his flannel shirt.
âWilliam, hey man, come on donât fall asleep on me here!â Dakota sounds a bit distant, like heâs calling to William through a layer of gelatin.
The person carrying him smells like cedar. At least, he thinks thatâs what scent it is. Thereâs something wet trailing through his fingertips. Heâs not sure he cares too much to remember what it is.
The darkness is ebbing and flowing beneath him, supporting him upon its intangible waves. He forgets his name again as he allows himself to be lulled into its embrace.
