SCP FOUNDATION X THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES CROSSOVER MENTIONED WOOOOO

BUT YUUUUUMMMM

Do you have any glass i can eat

,,,no? Don’t eat glass

GOSH I STILL CAN FEEL MY SKIN

@wren-of-the-flock

In pigeon society, this is a symbol of wealth.

Yeah I'm done with "who would choose you first in a room full of the people they once met in life" type of lonely

Who SHOULD you choose if you're in a room full of the people you've known? Even one you met once in a life

Do they still remember you? Will they be glad to see you? Or maybe nothing will bring positive response?? Which one are you even comfortable with?

If that actually happened I'm suddenly Kinning Jon /joke btw, ik how hard his life is.

Okay, But will the Stranger and Eye approve their marriage? 🙏

AU where Jon stalks Not!Sasha early and notices she's not Sasha. Instead of horror he's attracted to her. He starts watching her nightly and completely forgets about the paranoia around Gertrude's death.

hmm... monstersexual jon...

COME ON THEY HAVE THE SAME TEXTURE ANYWAY

Do you have any glass i can eat

,,,no? Don’t eat glass

And I respect that❤

Contributing to the meme

I’m sure this has been done but

S4 malevolent in a nutshell

well I haven't eat...

I'm gonna eat u😋

:(

C A T S .

Two is Better than one

I went wild with this one :D

Printer issues, Lunch Date, Flower Shop, The Stranger pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, Spider in the Dark, ur here, next part?

Sasha entered her apartment with the quiet click of the front door. She tossed her backpack onto the chair in the kitchen and started a cup of tea. A clatter from the adjacent room caught her attention. She frowned slightly before peeking her head into the other room.

It took her a moment to process the scene before her eyes.

Micheal was sitting on her living room floor, long fingers carefully curling through the fur of a content cat purring below him. She noted a secondary feline to the left, pawing at a strand of long spindly blonde hair. He glanced at her lazily, tipping his head to the side and humming.

There was only one thing wrong with this picture. Sasha didn't own pets.

"Micheal-what?"

His smile widened. "Hello my dear."

She gestured to the cat now rolling onto its back as Micheal petted its belly. "Where did these come from?"

He looked over at the one still playing with his hair. "They followed someone into my corridors. They followed me here."

Right. Sasha shook her head and sat down, the one on its back stretched out before moving towards her curiously, it had orange hair like a tabby. She pet it and it purred in response.

"Micheal."

"Sasha."

"I don't have the stuff for these guys. I barely have the room, you don't really expect me too-" Her words were cut short as she watched the grey one tangled in Micheal's hair sound out a small mewl as Micheal tenderly picked it up in its hands with too much bone and fingers that stretched too far across. The cat didn't seem to mind.

Micheal hummed as he watched the cat in his arms twist and curl, purring contently as if Micheal wasn't a terrifying monster. Sasha dared to smile.

"I believe, if I remember correctly, these creatures need food, water." He chimed lightly. Sasha rolled her eyes.

"Fine. There's a store down the way from here. They have pet supplies." Sasha sighed as she stood to her feet. "And they are cats, Micheal."

He didn't so much as stand to his feet, rather a blur of motion and colors that stretched out and scattered like sand before he was standing in front of her. "Cats. Yes."

She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, stopping when she realized Micheal was following her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you of course." He giggled, "silly question."

"Right." Sasha smiled, "This won't end badly at all."

----------------------------------------------

The actual trip wasn't horrible.

Besides the fact that every single dog started barking at Micheal which earned them a few curious glances from the staff, they made it out with a sack of cat food, cat litter, and a box. Even more than she had expected, Micheal paid. Handing the cash to the women as Sasha looked at him with such a confused expression she partially believed he did it just to see her reaction. Laughing as they left the store with the supplies. She simply shook her head.

"I think- he had one."

Sasha looked over at him, he looked, well, human. The way his coat sat on his shoulders and down past his boots, his hands wrapped around a bag of cat food. His eyes trained on nothing before looking over at her with a sharp smile.

Sasha frowned. "Who?"

"Micheal. Before-" His words echoed and trailed off.

Sasha understood. "I'm sorry." The words felt stupid in her mouth.

"Do not be, its-" he paused. "It's a nice memory, I am not sorry to have it, amongst the fractals of everything and nothing and the not-in between, it is nice."

Sasha thought about her question a moment before asking. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"The...what you said about the fractals and the nothingness, delusion...what's it like?"

"It Is Not What It Is and it is a part of me" he said it like a broken tune from some forgotten nursery rhyme. "It is madness- throaty, hollow, the depths of doubt- madness that stirs in the mind. It is not a physicality, but, within it, there is a certain…” He paused. “Ah! Beauty. Like a fine piece of decoration in a mundane hallway." Micheal laughed long and hard as they approached her building.

"You say it's beautiful?"

He giggled and shook his head. "You tell me, my dear, what with your It Knows You, all that knowledge will never satisfy, never relief, you see all and yet-" They entered her house to the two cats scratching up her couch and seemingly content with life. “Madness floods the senses and dilutes the mind, leaving it clear. It changes perception, blinds reality. It's a song sung with all the wrong notes and the wrong tune but it is beautiful nonetheless.” He sat the bag on the kitchen table and she prepared two bowls.

“A broken melody is still broken.”

“Ah, but only you would know if it's broken.”

Sasha paused and stared at him. He was crouched down, pouring the food into the bowl she had provided. It got everywhere and he giggled. Letting out a hummed “oops.” Before moving a long finger to scatter the dropped food even further. His hair cascaded around his shoulders and swept across the floor, the grey cat already taking interest in his dubbed playtoy.

She understood what he meant. And maybe there was a relieving beauty to it. Someone’s only lost if they themselves don’t know how to get to their destination. But if someone is simply wandering, well. There could be a comfort to that. Ignorance is bliss after all. A buzz of muddled headspace that someone looks for within drugs or alcohol. A weight lifted from the mind as it's consumed by something that isn’t tangible.

“Do you understand?” He looked back at her, the pieces of food that had missed the bowl now nowhere to be seen. The two cats had taken an interest in the food and water and were quick to indulge themselves. She looked into Micheal’s eyes, the swirling spirals that seemed to impossibly dilate as he looked at her. He seemed softer, somehow. All folded up and crouched on her floor seemingly as protection to the felines happily eating away. His sweater changed and morphed in color and she half wondered where his coat went. His scarf was wound around his neck and seemed to move like a snake, continually curling over his shoulders. Twisting and bending and pulling in every direction. He was an enigma to look at. Madness. An ever shifting idea that barely took shape before it was changing again. Beautiful. She decided.

He was beautiful.

She almost forgot he was waiting for a response. “I understand.” The words didn’t feel nearly enough. Some part of her reminded herself that she was supposed to be scared of this thing that had casually dropped two cats at her feet like it was nothing. This thing that bought the supplies with money she wasn’t sure he was even supposed to have. This thing that had given her a distorted flower that she still had in the living room. This thing that followed her around with a curiosity she couldn’t explain. This thing that had kissed her cheek instead of killing her when she had been in its corridors. She ignored that voice and instead moved to fix the litter box in the washroom.

Not even an hour later she was curled up on the couch petting the tabby as Micheal played with the gray one on the floor not even a foot away.

“What are their names?” She asked him, breaking the silence that seemed to muffle Micheal’s laughter as he let the cat swipe at his long fingers, pulling them away just in time.

“Names are redundant.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll call this one Pumpkin.”

He didn’t look away from the cat, letting it catch his fingers and pull them down to bite playfully. Micheal hardly seemed bothered. “Daisies.”

“The cat? That’s a pretty name.”

“No-” He giggled. “I remembered. I was picking them up.” He drew his hand away and pointed at the mess of lines and colors that had once been a flower, sitting in a jar on the coffee table.

Sasha smiled back. “Daisy it is. Pumpkin and Daisy.”