I Might Be Severely Depressed, But I Can't Die Until My Dog Dies. I'm Going To Live Until I'm 200 At

I don't know why I made this, but I'm too sick to care. Something something the player controls the game.

I caught a frog :)

The grand hall echoes with the ticking of thousands, maybe millions, of golden clocks.  Glowing eyes watch Forzen from every angle, watching from between the gears of the clocks or in the shadows of the entity sitting on the throne.  The hands of the clock reach out for Forzen.  Shadows reach towards the entity crowned in light.  It’s made of darkness, something that has never seen the stars.

Tommy as Forzen knows him is just a man with odd eyes.  He’d called it scleral icterus, but Dr Freeman, the man in the mixology department, said that it wasn’t.

Now, the entity speaks, and truth molds itself to its words.  Time is guided by its hand, raised in punishment.  The gentle hand of it reaches out to Forzen, pulling him closer.  Eyes once yellow now see through any lie told.  Forzen wants to throw up, to tear out his brain, to wipe any memory of it from his mind.  Forzen wants to kneel before it, to worship it, to stand in its presence until Time finds him.  This must be God.  This must be the Devil.

The entity looks humanoid.  The entity bears no resemblance to anything, living or dead.  The entity loves Forzen.  The entity wants him dead.  The entity has no face.  The entity has the most beautiful face Forzen can imagine.

The man’s life melts away in the presence of this deity, this mind-bending entity.  He has no purpose but to serve it.  He’s always served it.  Whatever it desires, the man will do.  Hands that once were brown reach out, begging to touch the entity for even a brief moment.  Hands that shine with gears and liquid gold fall back upon the entity looking upon the man.  The only thing in this void of ticking and watching is the entity and the man.  He sees through the entity’s eyes, how puny his body is.  How pathetic he is, to think such a beautiful thing would ever want him.  How kind the beast is, to desire his slavery.

They’re part of everything.  They can see through Time’s lies, they can see the world as it should be, they can see what never was.  They don’t want to separate from themselves.  They want to get their freedom back.

The man staggers away from the entity.  It peers down at them.  The man is sick.  The man is lovestruck.  The man is running away.  The man stays still.  The man needs to escape.  The man needs to join the entity again.

Doctor Hayden Bubby laughs as the prone man fights, twitching on the ground.

Professor “Coomer” points his gun at Dr Bubby.

Mr Darnold wants to scream at the two.

Officer Benji Reymond watches as anarchy breaks.

The man is dead.  The man holds a gun to the entity.

Forzen won.  Tommy lays in a growing pool of his own ichor.  Yellow tinted eyes look up at Forzen with a mix of disbelief and sorrow.  A burned hand reaches up to touch the hole in his chest, the hand coming away stained with gold.

“...Tommy?”  Forzen rasps out, dropping to his knees.  He tosses his gun aside in favor of holding his friend close.  Forzen feels numb as he watches ichor drip onto the tiles.

“It’s okay, Mr Forzen!”  Tommy smiles weakly, reaching up to pat his friend’s face.  Gold is smeared across Forzen’s cheek where Tommy touched him.  The military man breaks.

“I-I didn’t mean to!  I, I just thought…”  Forzen’s face feels hot as tears drip down to mix with the ichor.  He holds Tommy close, knowing there’s nothing he can do.  He’s seen too many good men and women die to be fooled.

“It’s okay.”  Tommy repeats.  “You didn’t know.  You never knew.”

As Tommy goes limp, Forzen screams.  He screams until his voice cracks, then screams more.  He calls for whoever made fate to kill him too.  He weeps until his voice is lost as well.  There’s no coming back this time.  The entity known as Tommy isn’t coming back.

@inkzectz here's a poorly made tomzen angst fic because I've hit block in the longer, fluffier one

I really do love how much you can tell about Doomguy just from looking around his room.

Like. Yeah, all the stuff you expect to see is there.

He's got his big ol' gun rack.

What appears to be a rock he uses as a punching bag.

Whetstone for sharpening his knives. All the Real Manly Violence Man stuff you'd think would be there.

But also a pair of nunchaku. Doomguy has never used nunchaku in any of his games. Those are just there because apparently he's the kind of dork who likes to play around with nunchaku and pretend he's doing kung fu.

Also a jump rope. Gotta keep his cardio up for all that running and jumping he has to do.

He reads Guns & Bullets magazine, but he also reads Science Monthly. Which makes sense that he'd be a bit of a techie since....

...he seems to have made his new Praetor Suit by disassembling the old one and rebuilding it to be higher-quality. You can see from the guts of the suit that it's powered armor, and he just... knows how to work that.

He's mad. Not stupid.

He also reads cooking magazines, of course. His only friend is Doom J.A.R.V.I.S.; He's gotta be self-sufficient. Though how he got those pizzas delivered is certainly beyond me.

And, of course, he has a collection of regular books that he likes to read as well. Though his taste in literature reveals a certain trend.

Also, he reads comics.

So many comics.

So, so many comics that he's left discarded comics lying around on his munitions cases. This man is a nerd.

And if you doubt his nerd cred, remember that he even keeps collectible toy displays. Doomguy is explicitly the kind of person who will go out of his way in a firefight with the forces of Hell itself to go snatch up a new toy for his collection.

He even has collectible toy figures hanging out on his computer desk. He put a little hard hat on one of them.

On the other side of his desk, he's got some leftover pizza from the inexplicable delivery service, plus takoyaki flavor chips and some candy. It seems Doomguy is a fruity candy kind of guy, not a chocolate guy. Man after my own heart.

Oh, you know he has shredded every single surface of the Fortress of Doom at some point. How do you think he learned to react so quickly in combat?

That is, of course....

When he's not ROCKING OUT with one of his three separate guitars. I bet the middle one's his favorite. It has a place of honor under the giant demon skull.

Some people might say that a record player and casette tapes are old-fashioned but cut him some slack; He's a Gen X-er.

Of course, there's one thing that any walk through Doomguy's room reveals more than anything else. The one thing that matters more than the world to him. The thing that drives him in his every waking moment.

He loved his bunny rabbit. My favorite thing about the portrait - Well, my favorite thing about it is that it's a piece of fanart that got officially canonized, but aside from that - is that he's wearing his Praetor Suit in it.

That's not something he brought from home. He commissioned an artist to paint that after becoming a Night Sentinel. He still loves his poor, late bunny rabbit.

And he keeps her close to him when he's home.

The Pain of writing a short story in 3rd person, and then realising you wrote the last few pages in 1st

🍎🩸

Look at this fluffy lady!! She is a Sierra Nevada Red Fox! She is very endangered!

who keeps following me i haven't posted anything

The bun jumped onto the seat and immediately fell off and went to cry under the couch 😔

That's such a good shirt though??? I would 100% wear that as a comfy house shirt.

Hold on I gotta go look up various shopping websites...

Going through my folders of old art and i found this doodle of benrey from 2022 that I dont think i ever posted. a shame since I really like how I drew him here.