#◟au ◦ ᵃ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵈᵉ ʰᶤˢ ᵒʷᶰ

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Y’know, I look into a Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood AU and laugh because imagine nearly all of the Homunculi as Noxians: Father - Swain (the creator/leader) Lust - Cassiopeia (seductive yet deadly) Greed - Draven (literally wants everything) Gluttony - Kled (eats people) Envy - LeBlanc (makes mirror images of herself/other people) Sloth - Sion (headstrong and bulky. kinda only does things when told to) Wrath - Darius (angry but always seems kinda okay sometimes???) Pride - Talon (sdhkjf I COULDN’T REALLY PIN THIS WITH A REASON)

With this in mind, I’m thinking it makes sense to pin Swain as ‘Father’ because he’s the real one in charge. Darius, being Wrath, is instated to run the military in Swain’s stead for this AU because, tbh, Swain’s kinda leading them towards something greater and it’s best to have the military under Darius’ control, because he trusts Darius. Okay, nice.

However now I’m thinking about how the anime goes, and I’m sad because Father orders Greed to be killed when realizing that Greed wanted all of the power for himself. So Father sends Wrath after Greed; in this AU, that means Swain ordered Darius to apprehend and aid in the killing of his own brother.

Now fast-forward in the anime and Father resurrects Greed by reforging his Philosopher’s Stone core and like basically SHOVING it into Ling Yao’s body; let’s change that for this AU: Swain basically remakes Draven, to give him a second chance because it’s really just a way to fill the empty space, and shoves him into a new body. This is a body which Draven awakens in, is disgusted by, and ends up forcefully changing the vessel’s outer appearance to fit his old self.

BUT IT DOESN’T END THERE because he would be McPissed that not only Swain ordered to have him killed, but Darius literally helped and stood by while it happened, so out of pure fucking spite, imagine Draven joining whoever the fuck ends up being the Elric brothers and finding Darius a little while later and he just loses it because how dare you condone and aid in killing me?

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SO I JUST HAD AN AU IDEA. Pirate AU with a twist. Okay, now hear me out.

Draven was the captain of his own ship, and by captain I mean Darius was probably the real captain but Draven barked orders and everyone was likely too afraid to question their sharp-toothed loudmouth crewmate, especially if Darius didn’t say anything to combat it.

Now give me times where they go out on adventures, but Draven’s the only one in the crew who can’t swim, so he always avoids the boat’s edge unless he’s jumping from one ship to another to terrorize other crews. Give me the one time Draven’s crew gets into a huge fight with another and he gets tossed/knocked overboard. He doesn’t come back up, nobody could find him, there’s too much blood in the water to tell anything anymore, and it’s suspected the sharks got to any of the injured who fell in and it’d be suicide to go after anyone. After a lot of forcefully holding Darius back from getting himself killed, they probably sail away.

Except Draven’s not dead. Instead he’s saved by a group of merpeople, all of different kinds, sirens too, things that are ugly and beautiful alike. They realize he’s a strong human being with a will to live, considering anyone in his situation should/would be dead, so they manage to stitch his wounds up with fishing wire  and a needle crafted from a scale or seashell.

After spending roughly a week in the odd cave, surrounded by curious things, he tells them that he has to go find his brother and crew, to let them know he’s alive and rejoin them. However his absolute fear of the depths keeps him from trying, plus he knows he can’t survive without a ship, so they all exchange glances and start whispering. They agree to make the trip, grab hold of Draven, and drag him to the depths where they toss him into a chasm of darkness.

During his stages of heightened panic, Draven passed through a particularly odd layer of water that went separate from the dark. Basically this like sea GREMLIN (probably Tahm tbh) offered to give Draven the ability to swim and thrive in open waters, to relinquish him of his fears, only in exchange for a treasure from a sunken ship. Draven agrees to these conditions, but he realizes far too late the mistake he’s made. Basically, Draven gets turned into a creature that’s half man, half shark, except there’s a catch to ensure the beast will get his payment.

Draven always has a shark-like lower half, but when fully underwater? He’s ugly as fuck. As in he literally doesn’t look human at all. His singing voice is beautiful, and he’s still HOT AS FUCK when above water. But underneath? Oh god. His face looks akin to the undead, jaw unhinging and allowing his mouth to stretch and eat large prey with those fucking NASTY ass rows of teeth. Brightly glowing eyes and hair that almost looks like seaweed of some sort, claws too. And you bet when he first transformed and the monster who did it lit up the chasm... it definitely showed Draven himself in a mirror from some wreckage.

And honestly? He’d travel the seas alone. He would be so fucking horrified of himself and know he can NEVER return to the people he misses, can never return to his brother. He’d try so fucking hard to find the damn wreckage he’s looking for without any direction, but deep down he knows it’s like impossible because the seas are so vast and deep.

But imagine he’s like this for years. Imagine he gives up catching fish and sea critters for food. He starts humming his own somber song, adapting to siren ways, and it’s so sweet and alluring... but also depressing. He becomes known as the beast or charmer who guards the Kralst Sea, located off the coast of whatever Noxus ends up being. People believe that his song makes someone so self-loathing and jealous of his singing skills, or he entices them with promises of affection and a Good Time, that they willingly throw themselves overboard only to be torn apart and eaten by the awaiting creature.

Me: laughing when nobody from his old crew would recognize him, not even his brother, and he either has to give in and tell/show them, hopelessly follow their ship, or isolate himself further away from them because he’s a MONSTER.

Blah blah something something Tahm voice: The sea reflect that which lies within.

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Draven is a Witcher who graduated from the School of the Wolf, and he survived the Trial of the Grasses with flying colors; in fact, those present for his trial wondered if he was even human with his minimal response to the agony most other Witchers experienced, as well as the unpredicted additional mutation of wolf-like teeth among the other mutations given to Witchers who passed the trial. He wears the school medallion as his belt buckle, but abandoned the traditional swords given to him by the school; he also abandoned proper armor, and instead chose the leather armor option.

After finding a blacksmith who agreed to smith for a Witcher, Draven had two sets of axes fashioned. He is the ideal Witcher, able to juggle a battle between humans and non-humans; he fights with one set of silver axes, and one set of steel axes, cleaving through bodies and monsters with ease.

Draven’s reputation for taking on high-ranking missions and charging head-first into monster-infested areas earned the favor, and hatred, of many civilians. While Witchers were already regarded with disgust by most common folk, it was Draven who changed the minds of others; he took each hunt as a fun game, toying with his prey and turning each kill into a spectacle. Countless times would he toss himself into danger, if only to emerge victorious. Of course, this earned him several nasty scars and near-fatal injuries --- some marveled at his survival.

However, he sought bigger and greater glory, and thus took on one of the most dangerous contracts by his lonesome. The only person he informed had been his brother, and he’d been long gone, by the time anyone could stop him. This contract kept him away from home for months without any means of communication, and there had been no trail to track. Thus, the school and other Witchers presumed him dead, as anyone else would have.

In his time away, he’d been chasing a supposed golden dragon. While those were often seen as legends, and no Witcher sane enough to realize the danger would take the contract, Draven took it alone. On his journey, he’d been mortally wounded by a band of Nightwraiths, and although he reigned victorious, there was little chance of survival as his horse had fled from him. What he hadn’t counted on was waking up to a group of witches who had not only saved his life, but were taking care of him in a secluded hut.

Everything he’d ever learned told him to leave, but the situation called for accepting their care. Time and time again they would lull him back to sleep to ease his mind, giving him herbal medicines to ease the pain and discomfort until he was fully healed. Such a fight earned him the claw marks upon his face, and although that didn’t sit well with him, he had no choice but to accept them.

Having understood Draven’s wish to kill the Golden Dragon, they further aided him in finding its nest, as the beast had been causing chaos for the coven. He later returned to the School of the Wolf with the dragon’s head in tow, tossing it before his peers with a triumphant grin on his face. Not only had he survived, but he proved capable of taking down one of the most feared legends by his own hands.

Now he continues to hunt, taking contracts that most Witchers would avoid, whilst humming that same dreadful lullaby the witches had sung to him during recovery. Every now and again, he leaves to visit them in secret, waiting for the day that he may repay them --- not even Darius knows of his friends, though someday Draven may change the school’s views on them when admitting they had saved his life.

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Just a casual Deadman Wonderland AU update since I finally figured out what I wanted.

Draven’s a Deadman, obviously, who became a death row inmate SOLELY because of the high risk targets he killed, as in likely people who were important political figures and, thus, heavily guarded. He got captured, arrested, and prosecuted, only for someone to find out he had a Branch of Sin. Because the people are assholes, they named him Raven (thanks to Draven) and he formally calls his sin Raven’s Reapings. Dumb, I know, but Draven’s reasoning was because he literally decimated most people he was put against in Carnival Corpse, and he was known for creating large blade-like projectiles that flew like boomerangs and either returned to him or shattered like glass.

Draven had a nasty fight with another user who managed to rake their claws down the left side of his face, leaving scars. He’s missing a small chunk of his own ear due to a miscalculation with his own power. Draven has also lost a total of three carnival corpse matches:

The first cost him his left kidney, which wasn’t so terrible considering he can survive with one.

The second cost him his appendix, which again wasn’t such a terrible loss.

Out of guilt for his brother taking the penalty of losing their first fight, resulting in Darius losing his eye, Draven took the loss for their second without telling anyone that he planned to do it. This cost Draven his vocal chords, which now forces him to communicate with others through sticky notes since he’s learning sign language and, well, not everyone KNOWS sign language either.

The ultimate move to his branch of sin happens to be a technique where he uses a SHIT ton of blood, conglomerates them into a ‘flock’ of daggers, and they all home in on the directed target. This technique will use almost all of Draven’s blood if he doesn’t add any and is a very dangerous last resort if he isn’t careful with how much he uses.

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        Cobblestone streets were on today’s agenda, like any other day, except this would be the brace he relied on. It was in an alley, away from the open, from prying eyes of hungry beasts and kin, but it was so very cold ━ this is how it always was. Claws scraped uncomfortably into the stone, curling and threatening to break as the thing struggled for some leverage; sadly the kind he was in search of could not be obtained through physical strength. It’s hard to breathe, to move and even prop himself up; his arm’s bent, awkwardly, yet not broken, unsteadily shaking as he makes an attempt to lean a few inches away from the ground.

        A heave. A whine. Then comes the pained groan as something bubbles up, but all that comes out is blood. Definitely an effect of the illness in his body, the virus circling and making its rounds like sharks waiting to devour its struggling prey that only prolonged the inevitable. It’s been like this nearly every night since the incident with Queen Annalise and her Vileblood denizens, though every time ━ every transformation ━ seems worse than the last and there has yet to be a cure. It’s pitiful to watch such a valuable and able bodied hunter suffer, but this was the price one pays to partake in the hunt. This was the sacrifice to succeed, and it would be a hunter’s undoing.

        Finally able to pull himself up, at least to sit, Draven spits and licks those canines only to repeat the previous gesture; it never gets easier, and the hope that it would was simply wishful thinking. The brothers already knew what would eventually befall them: Draven is lost completely and, then, someone would have to kill him... assuming they could protect him from himself or the Hunter of Hunters for that long. With every transformation came a new obstacle, mind so skewed that, sometimes, even he lunged at those he considered friends and family. Each time he awoke, back in his own body, his own skin, Draven remembered the fear he felt on the inside, worried he’d have hurt or killed the few things he has left. And every time he comes back, it’s from the voice of his beloved brother ━ the only man who could soothe him to the point of tears when realization of what he’s done, of what’s happened, settles in and he can return.

        With each passing moment, he only makes himself sicker from the anxiety and panic that settles in the pit of his stomach. Then comes the hunger, the thirst of temptation as monsters scurry and howl at the moon. He began to hear them, to understand their prayers to the Great Ones for release, and it was getting so terribly hard to ignore them. Eventually, while his brother sleeps, he sneaks away with axes in hand. The need is too persistent to resist and carmine stains the pavement to paint his path; hunting was an art, and he was a master at it. Though, with careful observation, anyone worth their salt would see the slow descent:

        It starts off with gutted commonfolk who likely got in the way, followed by shreds of clothing and, eventually, the explosion of blood where corpses are no longer identifiable by appearance. They’re torn apart, limb from limb, mere carcasses half eaten and then tossed away in favor for another meal. Rib cages left open, yet nothing remains inside to protect. Then one sees it, the next meal ━ something fresh that likely ran in fear ━ and then, at the end of the road, would be him again. Fur matted with blood and chunks of the evening’s buffet, black and thick, kissed by torn clothing; and when the beast smells that who approaches and it turns, flesh hangs from its mouth like a feral wolf interrupted. Eyes white and pupiless, clearly operating on scent alone as sight was no longer plausible. Once again, the cycle continues: it circles, they face off, and when he comes down?

        Pain. Excruciating pain. Bones snap back into a smaller body, sometimes they break, they rearrange, and flesh tightens as muscles shrink. It’s a traumatizing sight to most, even those with strong stomachs, and the screams are loud enough to deter the most fearsome of common nightmares that scour the lands. And then he drops, near lifeless, wheezing and struggling to breathe, to stand, to move. It’s agonizing and a little pathetic, and eventually he realizes he can hardly recognize his own brother anymore ━ not just by sight, but by memory.

        Another transformation and another night of reckless abandon. Of feasting like a glutton who hadn’t had a meal in years. Draven runs into beasts and challenges Great Ones that no sane person could handle on their own. Yet he manages, or nearly gets himself killed before he’s dragged off watching someone else die in his stead; tears blur what’s left of his sight and he screams once again, a mixture of humanity and a lamenting howl. Until darkness takes hold and sight is no longer a luxury.

        Every night ends with regret, with the body rejecting the previous meal ━ all of that blood and pieces of whatever wasn’t processed comes up. It’s a mess, one which renders him physically incapacitated. When it’s all over? He’s tired, exhausted, bordering on feverish and laying on the cool pavement. Sometimes he wishes he could never get up, but he presses on. He knows the hunt calls him, he understands the consequence of not keeping busy, and even through it all ━ through the suffering ━ he finds room to complain.

        Sleep is a joke. It often occurs in two hour increments ━ one brother watches while the other sleeps ━ but more often than not, whoever keeps watch hardly ever wakes the other up to take over. But now, with the risks of abandonment, Draven often leaves his post, knowing Darius can hold his own just fine, and slinks off to fight ━ to feast on forbidden sustenance that’ll only make him sicker in the next coming hours. But when he does sleep, he’s quiet save for the short breaths, sometimes pained, leaning against his brother’s arm with his head against the larger man’s shoulder. The nightmares, eventually, become nothing more than irritation and, sooner than later, sleep becomes unnecessary.

        Then comes the day where claws rake and teeth gnash, Draven’s world casted into darkness and yet his scent and hearing manage to make him see more than he bargained for. He thrashes and struggles, words barely forming in begging mannerisms ━ he asks to die, for the suffering to end ━ and it’s up to the people he loves to do it. To grant him this wish before it’s too late, before he kills them. And when the day comes where cobblestone runs red from his rampage, when his body no longer rejects that which he eats and, eventually, the chance to transform back no longer exists ━ only then will he forget his brother.

         Only then will he forget his name, and only the beast will remain.

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         When push came to shove, survival was in his best interest. Although Draven valued the companionship of his brother, he knew that the offer given to him was one he couldn't turn down due to its resources and benefits: those of which he shared with Darius in secret. Allied with the Executioners and pledging his arms to the church, despite his faith lying in the spinning axes he wielded, Draven more-or-less did as he was told. He was nothing more than a young teen at the time, but he was more than capable of handling his own in battle. With the church's teachings came the reveal of their sworn enemy: the Cainhurst Vilebloods. Draven was seen as an equal amongst his peers, though perhaps he was a bit more highly recognized for his particular fighting skills and questionable belief in the church's tradition, Draven still sought glory and praise.

         Sneaking out of the church to venture to the castle, Draven fought his way to the rooftops and was greeted by Master Logarius himself; he heard the rumors of the former Executioners' leader being left behind, but none knew of his imprisonment to serve as the protector. Before a battle could begin, a voice rang true and ordered Logarius to cease, realizing a fool came on his own accord and recognizing his bravery. Or perhaps she didn't feel threatened due to the lack of Draven's proper Executioner garb; regardless, the hidden passage behind Logarius' throne opened and the martyr reluctantly stepped aside with a curt bow. Draven scoffed and stepped inside, eyeing the statues that nearly reached the ceiling as he did, following the carpeting all the way up to where Queen Annalise herself sat. Their exchange was brief, crass even, with Draven showing more disrespect than disgust and hatred for her. She coerced him closer with promises of a new future, a more glorious one; in one coordinated motion, she gripped his face and forced him to drink of her blood while hidden servants restrained him. Like sweet poison, he fell under the Queen's spell and her honeydew words kissed his mind like feathers on fresh snow. He remembers the sleepiness, being dragged off and then passing out, only to awaken in an alleyway with the Cainhurst Vilebloods crest branded onto his collar.

         Ever since that night, Draven hasn't returned to the church and he's driven mad by the beasthood that lingers, screams, waiting to take over. His features are different, sporting sharp canines, pointed ears, and claws; Draven struggles to find a balance and, instead, often runs off to fight the larger enemies on his own to sate the urges and his undying hunger. With every 'meal' devoured, the insanity creeps closer, and it becomes harder to come down from the transformation each time. Now Draven fears potentially hurting his brother and those he holds dear around him, also likely to become a target for the Hunter of Hunters in due time. At this rate, he's given up on trying to find a cure and hopes that, someday, people will stop coming to help when he runs off to fight something that would likely kill him; he already knows he's too far gone. He can’t even resist the hunger anymore, instead he gives in unless there’s someone to restrain him from indulgence.

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I had a few AU thoughts while working on replies && a drabble. Below a cut since I rambled.

Bloodborne AU Draven would be pretty cool cause his axes would make neat trick weapons with like a bunch of combos, if you think about it. Like not only can he swing & slice with them, but he can also throw them and having a catching mechanic would be pretty cool. He can go close combat or ranged and, instead of a gun, gets a third axe. Cause who needs a gun, right? Could pull off super damaging long-range moves and the consequence would be leaving him unarmed for X amount of time as he waits for the return. TBH if he didn’t have axes he’d probably use the beast cutter, not gonna lie. That thing would satisfy him to no end, just tearing through beasts like some oversized flaying whip. It’s definitely something dramatic despite being an old traditional weapon favored among Old Hunters.

He’d DEFINITELY be more on the beastly side; plagued with the sickness, slowly losing himself but trying to desperately hold on. Always going off to fight the bigger enemies alone because danger keeps his mind together, even though the beast that lingers hungers for the hunt. Transformations are painful, excruciatingly so. He somehow manages, but the madness kicks in and he’s pretty much gone during that whole ordeal. It takes a lot of willpower and control to come back down, to come back to himself rather than give in to the lust for blood. He finds it chillingly satisfying to crush something between his teeth in a beastly state and stalks enemies or opposing hunters with a shockingly calm elegance before he leaps.

Give me someone Draven cares about having to not only face off against his beastly side, but calm him enough to subdue it. Give me someone who, when he’s about to leap or strike, they run up and hug him. Give me a situation like Gascoigne where, if a certain lullaby is hummed/sang, it kinda reaches Draven instead of the monster he became. I need someone who knows Draven doesn’t need protection from the Hunter of Hunters members or protection from other beasts, but they understand he’s only hurting himself by not accepting help. Moments of weakness where he gives in to the beast and it takes a hell of a lot more to bring him back.

Moments where he’s kidnapped by those stupid sack people and all believe he’s lost in Yahar’gul, but instead he tears the fucking city apart over the course of 2 months. He’s worrying and reckless, always getting badly injured in fights. Give me Eileen (or a stand-in for bird mom) acting as his parental figure who gets fatally wounded by some hunter/monster and Draven makes it his sole purpose to tear them limb from fucking limb and wear their teeth as a necklace. Give Draven little sentimental pieces of jewelry/cloth from loved ones and close friends along the way. Probably hunters/allies that stepped between Draven and an opposing enemy that he can’t win against to protect him, ending up with them dead and Draven probably getting forcibly pulled away.

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General tag dump. 2 / 4(?)

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Tag dump.

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Born the son of Captain Hook, a lot is expected of Draven even though his father mysteriously disappeared after his run-in with Tick-Tock the Crocodile and the hook was found on the shorelines. Due to the lack of parental influence, Draven took up the hook as a memorial for his father and caused relentless chaos throughout the Isle. As a young boy, he met Darius, the son of Jafar, and they grew far closer than many expected. Together, they seemed like an unstoppable force with Darius’ kleptomancy and Draven’s ability to both strike fear in the hearts of others and create distractions; people often shuddered at the mere sight of either of them, alone or not.

The day Darius headed for Auradon as a request from Jafar, with the other three of their friends, Draven refused to accompany them because he knew someone had to run the Isles while they’re gone. He promised he’d keep things in order and, despite their doubts, the group left the Isle when picked up by the school representative. However, after quite a few months of them gone, Draven grew horridly cold after believing they had completely abandoned him. While attempting to seize control over the Isle for himself, Swain ended up captain which initially did not sit well with Draven. As time went on, he began to accept Swain’s position and showed unquestionable loyalty to him, granted the title as his first mate.

Draven is a sneaky and wild individual, unpredictable to the point of insanity, and undoubtedly evil with the faintest spark of a heart in him. He is incredibly fond of his hook, showing an obsession with it, and he hates that he must carry it around instead of replacing his hand with it. At one point, Draven attempted to entice Tick-Tock the Crocodile to bite his hand so that he could wear the hook like his father once had, but alas it did not work. Despite his incapability to swim, Draven would dive into the ocean without hesitation should his hook be dropped in the water.

With that in mind, Draven is rather punctual and has a very violent imagination, but he’s also extremely prideful and ready to hook someone regardless of the situation. He absolutely hates being ridiculed and having his hook stolen, but loves to scare others and intimidate them. It’s very clear he has a few screws loose and he often antagonizes and mocks people, his mere presence something that terrifies others on the Isle. With his background comes his incredibly swordsmanship and navigation knowledge and skills.