#mothfics

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TAG DIRECTORY

*As a rule of thumb, content warnings will be tagged Without "tw/cw" before or after it, since there are so many variations of trigger tags and i cant get them all. as stated above, let me know if there's anything you want tagged, either generally or for a specific piece!

MEDIA TYPE

#mothscribbles

#mothcomics

#mothfics

#mothsnippets

#mothvids

#mothedits

FANDOMS

#detective beebo

#detective beebo 2.0

#detective beebo overnight train

#isat

#mother series

#mother 1

#earthbound

#oc

#sona

#project sekai

#pmd eos

#pokemon

#hollow knight

*spoilers are tagged "[fandom] spoilers"

AUS

#au

#crossover

#au fanart

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#detective beebo au

#cosmic!ángel au [intro post]

#cosmic!oliver au

#sadness!beebo au [intro post]

#house hunger au [fic]

#detective beebo vampire route

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#mother series au

#in love and time au

#mother 3 swap au

#motherstuck

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#isat au

#project sekai au

#wondaloops au (by @/aquamarinebling)

SHIPS

#ship

#bábel (oliver x ángel)

#carrierpigeons (platonic vivi & ángel)

#watershipping (oliver x eugene)

#jailbirds (ángel x eugene)

#sbeebábel (sbeeb x oliver x ángel)

#sebeeb (oliver x seba)

#fedeángel (oliver x fede)

#dantángel (ángel x dante)

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#clausten (claus x ninten)

CHARACTERS

#fuckass cat (sona)

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#oliver beebo

#ángel valdivia

#vivi villalobos

#dominion detective beebo

#eugene c.

#nina c.

#simon margulis

#owen ferreira

#mozilla detective beebo

#sebastián rodriguez

#federico aureus

#dante detective beebo

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#siffrin isat

#loop isat

#odile isat

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#masked man mother 3

#claus mother 3

#lucas mother 3

#ninten mother 1

#ness earthbound

#paula earthbound

#boney mother 3

#duster mother 3

#nana mother 3

#ultimate chimera

#jeff earthbound

#poo earthbound

#tony earthbound

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#rui kamishiro

#tsukasa tenma

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#dave (sona)

#rice (oc)

#denny (oc)

#spencer (oc)

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#hatsune miku

#the original starwalker

#ghost hollow knight

MISC

#seasonal

#group art

#beebtober

#beebtober 2025

#brush week 2025

#babel cleanse arc

#pony town

#tanetane island

— - — - —

An angel waits in an endless void. For what, it does not know. It does not know, or feel, or think much of anything at all.

There is simply existence.

There is hardly even time; repeating itself as it is reread, and flashing forward as it is skipped over. Time isn't real, here. Not linearly.

Nevertheless, it waits. It exists, barely, in the near-nothingness around it. Has been existing like that for who knows how long. Abandoned. The result of a dead promise. His plan was never fulfilled, and now the angel would be doomed to be forever alone.

The angel exists there for as long as one can imagine it does.

Until something takes pity on it and manifests something new for it. Until something new happens.

Until it really, truly, begins.

— - — - —

…

………

………………………

The angel exists in its new space for an unknown amount of time before it notices. 

There is air here, there is gravity, there is noise, there is feeling. This is different. This is new? 

It opens its eyes. It is dim, the back of its mind supplies, but to its fresh eyes it is blinding. It closes its eyes again, seeing only the light through its eyelids for a moment before opening them again. 

It is in a room with finite parameters: walls, a ceiling, and a floor. There are many other objects in the room, but it feels like the attempt to identify them all would take half an eternity. This is more than it has ever experienced in its existence.

…

It isn't sure what to do. It's never been confronted with possibility before. With opportunity. 

…

…Something moves. From the couch (couch? couch. yes).

The angel floats curiously over.

…Oh! It's some kind of fuzzy creature! A… it strains for the word… a cat! An orange cat!

It stares at the creature. The creature looks up from its curled position and stares back.

“Hello,” the angel says to it. It felt natural to say something, but the vibrations from its throat are a bit of an off-putting sensation.

The cat makes a little noise of its own, a little mrrrp, and the angel feels itself smile involuntarily. It likes this creature.

It reaches down a gloved hand to touch it, and the cat uncurls and stands up to back away. Ah, no, don't do that…

The angel frowns, keeping its hand outstretched, and the cat slowly inches back over to sniff it with its tiny little nose.

!!!!!!

The cat bonks its head against the angel's hand and makes a rumbling noise. The touch feels strange, even through its glove. 

The angel isn't sure how to proceed from here. It… moves its hand to the top of the cat's head and pets it, stroking the fur ever so gently—it's such a small creature, it doesn't want to hurt it by being too firm. The rumbling noise increases.

Ahh… it's cute. It's cute!!! The angel smiles wider.

“Uh.”

The angel looks up. Ah, it didn't notice anything else in the…

Room. Ah.

Oh?

It's… oh. It's a human.

The angel pets the cat one last time as a parting, then drifts over towards the newcomer. To its surprise, it—he starts backing away from it, back into the hallway it came from.

“No, nononono nope nope stay back. Whatever you are, stay back.”

The angel stops. Ah… It was just curious…

It outstretches a hand, like with the cat moments before. A peace gesture? No, humans respond more to speech.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.”

And the man freezes at its words. It can feel it in the air. Did it make things worse?

He squints his eyes at it in the dark, and it subjects itself to being seen. This, too, feels odd, like the touch of the cat. New.

“…Who are you?”

The angel tilts its head. Ah… does it know that? How to describe that? Define it? It is just… itself.

…No. A name—it has a name, it thinks. A shorthand for its existence.

It all happened faster than you could react to it. One minute you were walking into the house after Oliver, trying to find wherever he had wandered off to, and the next you were on your back, your other half's hands around your neck and squeezing, squeezing.

You don't know what to do. You struggle, naturally. Instinctively. Terror fills your heart as the fear of death nestled inside you rears its head. You claw at Oliver's hands and you try to push him away, to no avail.

The house feels oppressive, stifling, suffocating, instead of the usual comfort that envelops you upon entering.

You look at Oliver's eyes through your squinted ones and see anguish behind the owlish stare. He's as scared as you are, even as his hands try to tighten further.

You gasp for breath, using all your strength to pry Oliver's fingers off of you, as the puzzle pieces slowly start to click together, as the cogs in your oxygen-deprived brain begin to turn.

It's grief, isn't it? That's what fuels these things, right?

Nobody's been in the house lately. Nobody here to grieve means that, if it's a living being of sorts, it's hungry, right?

And Oliver being forced to carry out the house's whims isn't a new concept, with the Callings and all. He doesn't want to do this, but the house isn't giving him a choice.

He must be terrified.

You're terrified, too. Fear courses through your veins, fueling your limbs just enough to keep Oliver from completely cutting off your airflow. You can't hold it forever.

But,

The house should let him go if he kills you, right? You know he doesn't want to, but if he's not given the choice, then…

You can at least tell him you understand. That you know it's not his fault. That you don't blame him. That you'll be okay.

Maybe you can't say all that. Or any of that, while you're struggling to even breathe. But you can mouth the words, and smile as okay as you can,

And remove your hands from his, to wipe away his tears, to make it easy to finish it, so both of you don't have to suffer as long.

You're terrified—but you can't let him see that. He surely feels horrible enough.

If you can be good for anything, maybe you can at least make this not as bad as it could be.

Your vision starts to darken as his unimpeded hands can squeeze tighter.

It hurts. Your lips form the words “I love you”, but no air escapes through your teeth.

Oliver's expression tightens—the last thing you're able to see as your consciousness starts to fade, as your grip on the present starts to slip.

Then