#god andy

I’m afraid. I’m so afraid. Someone give me some comforting words PLEASE.

God Andy aesthetic requested by @insomnibun

The breeze had picked up once the sun had officially found its way into the sky. A child no older than eight had sat among the fields of clovers and towering weeds. He felt the soft, flexible leaves between his fingers. He didn’t notice his guardian’s long legs striding towards him. The sky was golden with wisps of deep blue and pink swirling like a flower not yet bloomed. His favorite thing was flowers. His first word was tulip. Every day when he was taken into the fresh morning, he saw the colors. His favorite were the yellow ones. Yellow was his second and last word. The boy had gone silent, preferring to listen than to speak. Warmth spread across his back as his loving guardian sat behind him, eyes watching the sky. It was nice to know they were there. A chest slowly falling a rising like branches swaying in the breeze. It was comforting. He knew that feeling for years. A steady hand walking him from place to place, until he could walk without fear. He couldn’t complain about his first life. It was nice and calm for the most part. He had always been bathed in love. He never doubted in his mind that someone cared deeply about him. He only remembered one time that his guardian’s breath had not been slow and gentle. It hurt his ears. They were screaming, sobbing, gasping because of him. He wanted it to stop. He wanted them to stop. They had been with him when he died. It was in that moment he went back to when he was in that field, covered in flecks of grass and so sickeningly happy. It was an innocent happy he wished he could return to. He spend time with his brother in the afterlife, but didn’t mind the living world much. It was painful, he didn’t want to see his guardian distressed like that again. His memories of the afterlife were all good, but they were so fuzzy around the edges like the fluff of a dandelion. When he was ripped back to the world of the living, his soul warped and twisted. It was agony that swallowed up his throat and chest and rotting through the skin and flesh, slowing spreading until he couldn’t even begin to think. Then he heart it or processed it at least. A heartbeat. His own heart beat again. When he opened his eyes again he could tell everything was different. He saw the world through sunken eyes. His skin felt stiff and brittle, yet when he bent his arm, it moved without snapping off. His hair felt like leaves and his organs seemed muffled and hardened in place. He couldn’t breathe. Their eyes stared down at him with a crooked frown. It wasn’t them, it couldn’t be real. They looked like a mockery of what he remembered. He pulled his head away and covered his head with his arms. There were no night terrors in the land of the dead, he couldn’t be alive. Where was his brother? Why was it cold and hollow? His thoughts pounded as their voice etched in distaste echoed through the halls. “Don’t you turn away from me, child. I chose you for a reason.” They snarled, teeth sparkling in anticipation. “Don’t make me regret this, or you’ll be having an awful rebirth.” This wasn’t the one who named him. This wasn’t the one who had nurtured him. This isn’t the one who sat with him in that field or took his hand when he was young. What had happened? Who took that person away? Whatever had been done to him, it was only half as crushing as seeing what had happened to them. He reached out, but they were unfazed. It wasn’t their eyes. It wasn’t them. Regardless, they commanded him and he obeyed with as much loyalty as he could muster. He had no choice. The one who summoned him back from the afterlife had also damned him. He stared out at what he’d made and looked over his shoulder at the markings on the wall. If he could only bring them back. If he only could feel that mindless love again, being cursed would hardly have mattered. 

Wind ripples past the grass that guardian the forshaken temple. Mice rushed past the tall stalks but never dared any closer. Cold, gold eyes stared into the budding horizon. Andy could recount every name. Every voice and face. Their jaw set hard against their usual uncaring expression. Andy could only think of one word to describe them. Pitful. Andy watched them fall into the same loops and repeat the same scenes. Predicting their feelings and actions became second nature. Every human could be plucked and pulled like a bass. Andy could make the weep, bow, attack, and bleed on command. It took a few right words and actions. Some would kiss the ground they walked on for a few promises. Andy closed their eyes and let air wash over them as they slipped into memories.They coddled the broken man, his mouth filled with daggers and claws. He leaned his head against their chest and wept. While he drank their intoxicating blood and silently grieved for love, they slipped a collar around his neck. He was a dog, a homocidal dog. He needed only a few things to be filled. Love and food. It was easier to get a starved dog to eat from them. Easy to get an abused dog to crave love. He’d come to them, just like they wanted him too.They stroked the feathers of the bird and watched his talons sink into their arm. All his mouth could speak was “They hurt me. They hurt me”. He aggrieve for hours while Andy patiently listened. Their fake compassion always awarded them the best type of loyality. Deals were created when feelings blurred the common sense. Andy lifted him up into the beloved, but musty moonlight. On their tongue they whispered promises and praises. Ego was an easy thing to stroke.They slipped between the blackness that dripped from the metal walls. In the dimness they curled up beside the man who’d been robbed of life. He was almost corpse like. Andy leaned into his ear when the rest of the world was just too loud. Whispering what he’d dreamed. He hadn’t given in just yet, but their voice would be there playing like a victrola in the back of his brain. Their fingers slipped over his ashened hands. It would be the closest thing to feeling he’d get. She sat on the streetcorner soaked in rain, sobbing. When it first happened, she stayed their for hours. Now she did it anyway, years later despite her face no longer caring for what she lost. Andy liked to spin around on the lamp post and watch her go by. They called for her, but not like the rest did. They offered pleasant company with honeyed words and a charming ruff to their tangled hair. When she walked home, Andy made the trip a little less lonely. If they danced with her, she’d dance with them.Their eyes slipped back into reality and they cracked an omnious grin. Jiji saw it out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t want to admit it was there. Earon glanced just in time to catch it. They too were pathetic and Andy leaned over to watch them with a pitying smile. When they let their thoughts ferment for awhile, they realized how utterly hapless the others were. Like toddlers barely understanding how to exist. Oh, Andy could just drown them it was so tempting and so thrilling to prod at their open wounds and watch them come back, begging every time. Jercon pressed into Lyron’s tentacles burying inside the wriggling mass. Andy just liked watching and sitting, satisfied knowing that in the end they always had the ace. 

The darkest chamber was unlit of any candles and was too deep to see the sun. Vanity lit a soft candle with the edge of her tail and waited. Cherryblast wiggled about in wonder. Grandpa sometimes gave him gifts on his birthday. When he was born they’d given him his orb necklace. His bright eyes watched as the shadows in the corner molded to the shape of his huge grandfather. Compared to Vanity, he towered over her with ease. She bowed to her father and the pup ducked her long tail and did the same. A low hum was uttered from his grandfather’s throat. It was his name, but not in english tongue. It was always important to listen to one who addressed you so closely, Vanity had said. It was a special name between those of kitsune tongue. He didn’t know Grandpa’s name. Cherryblast waddled over and plopped down by the stairs. “Hello Grandpa!” He chirped at the old figure, who nodded his head in reply. “Hello little one.” The giant monster fox cooed as his glittering eyes darted hatefully over to Vanity. “Have you not taught him how to call me?” Vanity looked stunned for a moment, opening her mouth to speak but silencing herself.Cherryblast squirmed a bit, before looking back at his grandfather. “Call you what?” He asked softly. Nobody answered him. “Child for your birthday. I will answer any question you have.” He replied, a faint hue flashing in his eyes. As far as the boy new, his grandpa knew everything. The first questions ranged from ‘why is the sky blue?’ to ‘can birds feel pain?’ then Cherry realized an important question hanging right around his throat. “Why do I wear this necklace? What does it do?” He questioned and watched a scorching eye shoot towards Vanity before settling again. “It brings you power, pup.” The old fox started, swinging one of his long tails around. “It makes your power grow and releases it in one powerful burst. I gave it to you when you were small, so you could cultivate your strength.” Cherryblast curled around the shadowy paws of the phantom creature as a fire orb burned and split before him.“Thank you, Grandpa.” He hummed before his eyes fixated on the cracks scattered around the floor.

depends on usefulness but yes generally. 

Sunset swept the rusty brick, aged in hate. Like melted gold, those darting eyes scorched his flesh. The winged shadow landed firmly on the cold ground and stalked towards the temple of deceit. The avian man tilted his beak towards the narrow, elongated eyes of a powerful spirit. Hands like theirs, tappered into claws that could ruin all it touched. They had begun to teach him the full use of his abilities. Like one of Andy’s own, he’d learn to sink into the obscure and kill with devastating strength and accuracy. His record had been quite polished under their mentoring. Those who truly knew Andy had started to call them statuettes due to their mimcry of the idol. His feathers ruffled and he took long steps towards the towering form. He was commited however, to his demise by the hands of the oldest force in the known earth. By now, it was clear who his puppeteer was. His voice called for them. They anwsered, watching coils unfoil before them. Lovely day, wouldn’t you agree?

Andy grinned warmly as they played idely with their orb. Lined up one by one. They leaned their head back at a pianful angle and grinned at Jiji. “Well I’ve done a great job. My dear will you look?” Jiji knew denying them would make it worse so she leaned in.“We have two intertwined snakes, a bastard, the dog’s fucking devil-spawn, the prince of nothing, a lonely jaybird, a drunkard with some scissors, and a whore.” They began softly. Their voice grew as they spoke. “Let’s see what happens next. Will the tall one finally manage to kill himself before his brother returns? Will Mercury miss that speeding Car? Or will Val take his final bow. It won’t be long for him now. JayJay will pick up the book tonight. Opal won’t come home in the evening. Ford is moving out today, now I wonder where that leaves our remaining darlings~ Oh what a hard place. I wonder when they’ll give in. I don’t have to press much more. But I love to watch them thing they get a chance.”Jiji felt sick, she could see it through the cracks of the orb her Master held onto. They all began to twist, follow the wrong path. It always happened. Andy played them like pawns in a chest game. “I’d hurt so bad to watch them burn. Imagine how many people would fall apart?” Andy cooed and looked at Jiji. “Well? I suppose I have time to kill. Let’s see if I can make them dance a bit.”