Temperence Fosner
Temperence Fosner
small trypophobia warning
hiii i hope it’s okay to add my oc to this lore.
This is Temperence Fosner. Coming from a broken family after they birthed three children with an extremely rare condition. A bad case of the holes. Isolated her whole life, and zoo animal treatment from the community has made her develop a hard shell around her feelings. Now coming off as bored, monotone, crabby, and maybe a little elegant.
Assassinates government officials of the island she lives on in the dead of night. Absolutely no trace of them the next day. The holes in her skin hold electricity, something she’s used to dabble in concepts of puppets and resurrection. Using brain cells from her victims to bring her little creations to life.
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lesbians 🔥🙏
This is Temperence and Pivver and they’re girlfriends :)
YA'LL...
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I. AM FUCKING. SCREAMINGNREYGHJTRJHKNET 😩😩
Art is not mine! 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝑹𝒆𝒅𝑨𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓!
Edit: WHY IS THIS MY MOST LIKED POST LMFAOOO 💀💀
ꪖꪶꪑꪮᦓꪻ 📻🌹🥀
᥅ꪖᦔ꠸ꪮ᥅ꪮᦓꫀ
(fluff/angst)
It felt like a sunny spring day on earth.
The birds were chirping, and the sky was almost blue. It was hot, but the cool breeze made it feel just right.
The grass was almost green. Butterflies fluttered around. The two lay on a picnic blanket, on an almost green grassy hill.
Alastor was half asleep. The only kind of sleep he had been in for the past 6 months. Rosie was right next to him, smiling, looking up at the almost green trees.
It was an almost perfect day.
Rosie turns to Alastor. “Al.” She whispers.
“Hmmm?” He replies.
“How does your chest wound feel?” Her hushed, almost motherly tone can be heard.
“Numb.” He replies, groggily.
His exorcist wound. The one he got from foolishly charging at Adam, only to be beaten to near death. He’s been fairly anxious, tired, and sleep deprived since then. It was stinging, but now it’s not. Likely a good thing.
Well, Rosie considers it a good thing. It’s really freaking Alastor out.
Rosie smiles. “At least it’s not stinging.”
The world sounds earthly and peaceful when Alastor’s eyes are closed, but the moment he opens them, he’s met with different shades of red, everywhere he looks, unable to catch a break from the mean, taunting color. Disappointment floods his body more than blood ever could, as he looks up at what is almost home.
“I’m just hoping it’s not poisonous, or has some kind of mind eating parasite in it..” Anxiety circles Alastor. What he just said, didn’t sound like an Alastor thing at all.
Rosie frowns. “You’re being paranoid again.”
“I know.” Alastor responds in a tired tone. So much energy has been lost since the fight. Dizziness meets Alastor, so he shuts his eyes, to pretend that his almost perfect day, is a completely perfect day.
His dear “friend” holds his hand, massaging his knuckles.
A new feeling creeps in, but only attacks his heart. Tingly and feeling happy, he can’t put his finger on what this feeling is.
The two hear an explosive go off in the distance. Not even a hint of surprise passes by.
“It would be an almost perfect day… if we weren’t.. well.. here.” Rosie sighs.
Alastor nods. “Mhm..”
Rosie leans her head on his shoulder, and he can’t help but blush. A tired feeling passes by, and he closes his eyes once again.
“I’m so happy for Sir Pentious. So happy for Charlie and her hotel project, so happy for the future patients who could come a little closer to earths beauty by finally meeting Heaven.”
Alastor listens to Rosie’s talking as much as he can. He leans his head into hers.
He really likes the way she sounds. He could almost listen forever.
He listens to the chirping birds and the whistling wind, and the bugs buzzing. “It truly is an almost perfect day, isn’t it?” He finally speaks up.
“Yeah… yeah it is. It really is an almost perfect day.” Rosie replies chuckling.
Alastor feels his whole existence float away from him, as his mind starts to go white and blank. He can’t even feel sad, but instead feels satisfied. At least it ended in a useful way, as he 𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 survived a poisonous angelic attack.
Rosie continues to talk on.
“I wish every day could be just like this one. Just you, and me, and an almost perfect day. Right Alastor?”
His grip on her hand loosens, as she’s now the only one contributing to their hand holding.
No response could be heard from Alastor.
Maybe he just didn’t hear her.
“…Right… Alastor…?
A panic starts to flood her chest, but she still calmly calls to him.
…
“…Alastor?”
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