#Lord Cabadath

[skellinore]

Like Father, Like Son...

Lord Cabadath and his eldest son, Slender.

Slenderman has some pretty big shoes to fill.

Being a prince of a very successful and terrifying king is a lot to live up to.

My version of Slender is... very different from everyone else's Slender.

I would say.

Considering I give mine scars and gold accents, and also made Zalgo his husband, but that's beside the point.

I haven't gotten around to drawing Slender's "Mother"

I put mother in quotation marks because, again.

My version of Faceless Demons is that they have no concept of gender, and it's hard to tell Faceless Demons apart if you aren't one of them.

So none of the Faceless Demons have boobs or hair, because I find that incredibly lazy, I dunno, I just don't like it. But you do you, bestie.

(But for the sake of my own sanity, I will be using pronouns, considering I will be talking about three people in this post.)

But most Faceless Demons do look masculine, some of them may have a feminine waist or hips.

I like giving my Slender a snatched waist because he's a power botto-

Heading back on track.

Little story bits and facts:

Slenderman and his "Mother's" relationship has always been rocky, she's controlling and stubborn, with a bit of a temper.

Think... Stella from Helluva Boss, expect she loves her husband to death, she's possessive and self-absorbed, remember in my last Cabadath post, that Cabadath is aroace, and that he was forced into an arranged marriage with her.

She has a set curriculum and plans for each of her baby boys, especially for Slender, envisioning herself in each one of them, pushing her dreams onto them, pushing high standards on them.

By set plans, I mean she already picked out what they're allowed to wear, who to see, who they're going to marry, what they learn, what job they're going to have, etc.

One last quick fact about Slender's mother.

She used to be a guardian of the Earth, basically protecting the forests and wildlife, but she loves the city life in Hell more, so she lost her privilege of being a guardian, and so her blessing passed onto Slender.

So Slender can hear the trees whisper, understand what the wildlife is saying, hear the beautiful melodies that the wind and water provide, he's enthralled in all of it, he loves the wildness and untamed nature around him, and he'll do anything to protect it, which is why my Slender hates humanity.

Head-cannon time:

1.) Cabadath is actually the whole reason that Slender and Zalgo meet in the first place. Considering that Zalgo's father is the King of Hell, (and no not Lucifer or Satan, or whatever you want to call him, Zalgo's family slaughtered Lucifer, making Zalgo's family the new rulers of Hell.) Cabadath works for Zalgo's father, and he wanted his son to meet the King, but instead Zalgo snatched Slender's tiny waist and then they became friends from there.

2.) All Faceless Demons know proper etiquette and mannerisms, because it is forced upon them, most Faceless Demons get annoyed and upset by unproper etiquette and mannerisms including improper speech such as abbreviations. So Faceless Demons have classes for teaching them to get over this. Slender had to learn to get over this problem by Zalgo, to which he is grateful for.

3.) Both Cabadath and Slender like their coffee sweet and light, come on guys, I know how many of you like to make Slender drink straight up black coffee. So I'm doing something different. >:| (it's getting overrated...)

4.) My Slender knows how to control elements! Such as earth/rock/metal, fire/magma, water/ice/blood, and air. (He's the Avatar. Haha, kidding.)

5.) Cabadath and Zalgo's father are really good friends, Zalgo's father is pinning for Cabadath, what he wouldn't do to just hold hands with him. Cabadath realizes this, but he doesn't mind, he finds him much more pleasant to deal with rather than his own wife. Often staying nights or extra hours.

6.) Slenderman hates onions. Fuck onions.

>:|

[an-aura-about-you]

September 19th, 1997

Crossing the Bridge

Somewhere Else Under the King

An eventful night where all is revealed:

He stands in his library when they arrive, his back to the door. He fixes his coat, old but still a perfect fit all these years later. He looks up at the portrait of Wilbur and reaches out his hand, delicately touching the bottom of the frame.

“Jackson?” Martin calls when the three enter.

Trilby sucks in a gasp as epiphany suddenly hits him, stomach churning with disgust at not realizing it sooner.

Jon looks to Trilby before turning forward, standing with Martin.

Their host takes his hand away from the portrait and turns to face them.

“I have a confession to make,” he says. “I’m not descended from Jack Frehorn.”

The three are silent as the words sink in, Trilby grimacing while Jon and Martin wear their sudden shock as if they had been slapped in the face with it. The pieces are all there, have been there since it was set in blood in 1778 and ink in 1779, and the truth of their terrible whole clicks into place for each of them.

Martin speaks up first. “How? How?! Jack Frehorn lived in the 1700s!”

“And when did he die?” Jack softly challenges.

No one has an answer, at least not with words. Trilby instinctively puts himself between Jack and the others, pointing his grolly at him.

Jack sighs. “I understand if you don’t trust me, but I don’t mean harm to any of you.”

“As it turns out, I’m not exactly inclined to believe you,” Trilby growls, but he does lower his grolly a bit.

“To be fair, it’s not like we haven’t seen something like this before,” Jon points out, his voice shaking.

“The same situation as the Tall Man,” Trilby adds.

Jack looks at Trilby, aghast. “Good lord, I hope never to become like Cabadath. Being in the service of the King is one thing, but being his Prince?”

“But how did this happen, Jack?” Martin asks.

Jack gasps and puts a hand to his mouth, eyes bright with tears. “I’m sorry,” he says, choked. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted to hear you call me by my real name.” He takes a moment to collect himself. “It’s actually pretty simple: I was foolish enough to beg for my life from a being who doesn’t feed on death but pain. It didn’t exactly take long into the two centuries and then some I’ve been alive since then for me to realize how much of a mistake that was. I think the only thing that’s kept me sane over all this time is the idea that I would actually see my favorite prophecy come to pass.” He holds his hand out towards them. “And here you are. The Lovers have crossed the bridge.”

“That really was us?” Jon asks, looking to Martin and back to Jack. “That was us the whole time?”

“You knew that was us?” Martin adds.

“They are the Lovers?” Trilby joins in, not expecting to hear the confirmation.

Jack picks up a book from the table that holds the case, his scriptures from so long ago. “Clearly, you must have suspected once you read the Book of the Bridge. And I imagine you already knew you were the Guide, Trilby.”

“I remember being told something like that,” Trilby responds coldly.

Jack lets the book fall open in his hands, turning a few pages to get to the part he wants. “Of everything I ever wrote for the Order of the Blessed Agonies, the part I loved most was the part they often left out. Probably because it’s the one prophecy I wrote that had the closest thing to a happy ending I could write, the Lovers’ Bridge.” He then reads aloud, “'When the Tower fell, the Lovers were astonished to find a Bridge before them, the Bridge built from the Agonies of their Bodies, their Minds, and their Souls. Together, they crossed the Bridge over the Dark Ocean, the Unfathomable Sea, and on the King’s Day they found themselves in a new land. The Guide was waiting for them there. He saw the Lovers’ Bridge of Body, Mind, and Soul, and he knew what it was.'” He looks up at Trilby. “Do you know what it is? What it means?”

Trilby grimly nods his head, lowering his grolly completely and his hands shaking. “Anyone can make a bridge,” he answers, resigned.

“And anyone can cross it,” Jack says, nodding.

Trilby claws his hands up his face, dropping his grolly and knocking his hat off as he does. “Is there any point to what I’m doing, then? I- we won’t be able to stop every bridge.”

“And you won’t be able to stop the one that will be created by the complete destruction of John DeFoe, but that doesn’t mean your choices don’t matter.” Jack closes the book in his hands and sets it back on the table. “Think about it. As far as I know, you haven’t destroyed the Soul yet. If you had, that would change the time of the bridge. You’re still choosing when the bridge will be completed. That’s going to determine who or what is able to cross it. It might mean letting in a demon like Cabadath, but it could also mean safe passage for others like Martin and Jon.”

“Does that go for us, too?” Jon asks. “Were Martin and I always going to be the Lovers, whether we wanted to be or not?”

Jack huffs a laugh. “You surely know better than I would that there are others who are aligned with Beholding and Forsaken. It was your choices that led to you becoming the Lovers, just as it was Trilby’s choices that led to him becoming the Cunning Thief and, as a result, the Guide.”

“How were they even able to cross the Ethereal Realm without being consumed by Chzo?” Trilby asks, hollow.

“That was because of us,” Jack tells him. “I may have left the cult, but ever since I wrote the prophecy of the Lovers’ Bridge, I have observed July 28th, the day the line between the World of Technology and the World of Magick is thin enough that the King can look upon us. If there was any chance I could keep the King’s eye on me and not them, I had to take it. If I had to be alive anyway, then I had to see this one prophecy come true. And after I had completed this year’s agonies, as soon as I saw Martin in my garden, I knew he must have been one of the Lovers, guessed right then and there that he was the Lonely Lover whose agonies matched mine.”

Trilby glowers and goes, “And I got pulled into it because one of your loonies stabbed me?!”

“That was against my wishes,” Jack snaps. “I fully intended to find both the Lonely Lover and the Watchful Lover. In spite of the way he is worshipped and his nonlinear relationship with time, the King is not a god. He is still a beast, and his eye can’t focus on everything at once. My pain drew his eye when Martin completed his crossing, but Jon must have taken longer.” He turns to Jon at this point. “I imagine that’s due to the King taking his eye back from you. He is something of a cannibal. We should all be grateful that Trilby’s pain drew his eye before he could fully consume you or, failing that, before you ended up in the far-flung past or future compared to Martin.”

Jon grasps onto the easier part to comprehend, not wanting to linger on the idea of being trapped in an entirely different era or consumed by a pain entity. “Wait, Chzo ate the Eye?!”

“He can do that?!” Martin asks.

“Is it really that surprising?” Jack asks. “He does feed off of pain.”

Jon puts a hand to his forehead and barks out a laugh. “The Eye is a fear entity, though.”

Jack gives him a briefly puzzled look. “Jon, fear is pain.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand, needing the affirmation that he’s actually here, that Jack’s words were only possibilities that didn’t happen, grateful beyond belief when Jon squeezes his hand back so tight.

Trilby swallows before asking, “Why bring us here for all of this? What do you want, Jack?”

Jack meets his eyes. “Do you know what you’re going to do with John DeFoe’s soul?”

Trilby makes a quick inhale, but then he slowly blows it out and nods.

“Then what I want now is for the pain to be over,” he answers. “I can’t die of natural causes, and I haven’t been able to kill myself, but I suspect that I can be killed.” He turns to the table, his back to them and blocking his actions from view, and palms something. When he turns back, the black case is open. He steps towards the three, around Trilby and towards Jon. In a flash, he takes Jon’s right hand and presses the handle of a knife in his palm. “And I want Jon to do it.”

Jon only just manages to keep hold of the knife in his surprise. Jack takes a step back so everyone can see it, the blade serrated and notched in such a way at the end that it somewhat resembles the teeth of a key.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Martin says, arms out. “Let’s stop and think before we do this!”

“Do we even know what that knife is?” Trilby goes, his hands up defensively.

“It’s my knife, blessed by the King’s magick,” Jack explains. “Normally, when a person dies, the body decays and the mind and soul drift apart, lose themselves. But when a person is killed with my knife, the body dies but the mind and soul remain united, still a whole being. The one caveat is that person’s mind and soul are then in the control of the person who killed them.”

“Why me, then?” Jon asks.

“Isn’t it obvious? If I see myself mirrored in the Lonely Lover, the Watchful Lover would be Wilbur’s equivalent. Avenge him. Kill his killer. Then reunite us once more.” Jack gently places his hands on Jon’s, lifts them so the knife is pointing at his heart, and then lets his hold drop away. “Please, Jon.”

“Jon?” Martin asks.

“Did you only call us here for this?” Trilby presses Jack. “Just to make Jon into a killer?”

Jack barks out a bitter laugh. “Don’t give me that. No one here has clean hands.”

“That’s not the same as me being able to do it now,” Jon softly protests.

“You understand that it’d be a mercy killing, right?” Jack tells him.

“I do,” Jon says.

“You don’t have to do anything, Jon,” Trilby says.

Jon stares down at the knife in his hand, unwilling to meet Jack’s eyes. God, the knife is so heavy. He can’t remember a knife ever being so heavy before. How heavy was the knife in his hand when he killed Jonah Magnus? How heavy was it in Martin’s hand before he plunged it into Jon’s side? But how much worse would it have been for Jon to stay there in the Panopticon, stuck there alone when Martin eventually died? Trapped to wait out the death of the rest of the world, living out the same hell Jack’s known for over 200 years? What happens if he frees him? More blood on his hands, and he can guess what consequences come with that. Can he live with himself if he does? Can he live with himself if he doesn’t? He’s so lost. He looks to Martin, not for an answer, god he can’t put that on Martin again, but because he so desperately needs an anchor.

And just like that, he knows again what he can’t lose.

He turns back towards Jack with a steadying breath, meets his eyes, and drops the knife.

“Jon,” Jack whimpers in despair.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Jon says. “If there truly is no other way, I’ll do it. But unless it comes to that, I won’t risk breaking what I have with Martin. I can’t even guarantee I’ll be able to give you what you want with regards to uniting you and Wilbur. All I’m asking for is some time to think this through and possibly find another solution.”

Jack sighs with some minor relief at that. “I suppose I didn’t think things through,” he admits, taking a moment to look at Martin himself. “Not that that’s surprising, though you’d think I would have learned better by now. Very well. I’ve waited over two centuries. What’s another hour or two?”

Trilby lets out a breath he had been holding and goes, “Let me see what we can do. I’ll get in touch with Lowri and come back with a plan. May I use your phone?”

-

The wait is strange, but it’s not as bad as it could be. They can’t hear exactly what’s going on yet, but Trilby sounds like he’s making some kind of progress with his superiors.

Jack looks up at Martin with the same earnest expression he’s always had for him. “I know we don’t really know each other, not any more than any prophet knows their prophecies, but I would have loved to love you, Martin. To love you more than just a friend by supposed happenstance or a boss with an unrequited crush on his collaborator or a prophet with two centuries’ worth of daydreams, even when I knew lovers come in twos.”

Martin makes a small, scoffing laugh, surprising himself with a little sniffle. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the chance. One of those things that just wasn’t meant to be. Fuck, we didn’t even write that collaboration.”

Jack makes the same laugh in return. “I always knew you weren’t mine to have. And in my heart of hearts, I always knew I was Wilbur’s. The thought of finally being with him again...” He holds a hand out to Martin, who takes it. “Lonely Lovers no more.”

Martin nods. “No more,” he agrees.

Jack briefly glances at Jon before looking at Martin again, gently placing his fingertips along Martin’s jaw and asking, “May I kiss your cheek?”

Martin looks to Jon as well, who hesitates before giving him a small nod. It’s a harmless enough request for a man about to die, and while Martin thinks he probably would have allowed it even if Jon said no, some part of him is glad that they all agree to let Jack have this one thing. He bows his head to allow the kiss, which Jack takes.

“Thank you,” Jack says as he pulls away. He then turns to Jon. “Please take care of Martin. I trust you will. Mark me, I will find some way to haunt you if you don’t.”

“That’s only fair,” Jon agrees, talking softly around the pang of empathy he has for Jack.

Then, looking at both of them, Jack goes, “I only have one last request: will both of you stay with me in my final moments? I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but it- it only makes sense to me, the Lovers witnessing my reunion with Wilbur.”

Jon and Martin look at each other, taking the moment to consider the request.

Martin takes a shaky breath and nods. “I’ll stay. Jon?”

Jon nods firmly. “I’ll stay as well.”

Jack breathes out like he has just set down a heavy burden. “Thank you.”

Trilby opens the door behind them. “We have our plan. As it happens, the Ministry’s Alexander Yarrow is a descendant of your Wilbur and has agreed to be used to fulfill your request. The arrangements are being made now. I’ve been asked to escort you to our facilities, Mister Frehorn.”

Jack nods his agreement and says, “Lead the way.”

-

The room looks like something out of a hunting lodge, taxidermy trophies of big game adorning the walls and the fire roaring in the fireplace giving off the only source of light. It shows a chalk circle in the middle of the floor written in runes. Claire stands opposite the fireplace, eyes closed, thumbs pressed together, and forefingers steepled as a point of concentration. Behind and above Claire is an observation window, where Jim and Lydia sit and watch outside of influence. Yarrow stands in the middle of the circle, dressed in his ancestor’s clothes and Frehorn’s Blade at his feet.

“Oh, you do so look like Wilbur,” Jack says, approaching Yarrow.

Yarrow gives him a shallow nod. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”

“Don’t be; I was the fool who asked to live.” Jack gives him a pat on the shoulder and moves to stand just outside of the circle, opposite to Trilby with Yarrow in between them.

“If you’d like to join Mister Frehorn on the other side of the room,” Claire tells Jon and Martin, “I will be here to assist Alex and serve as an anchor for our minds.”

Jon and Martin cross to join Jack, who takes Martin’s hand. Martin places his other hand on top, not allowing himself to think too much about it and simply letting it be comforting. Jon places his hands on Martin’s shoulder and arm.

“Clear your mind, Alex,” Claire instructs Yarrow. “Concentrate on the sound of my voice as I speak physically and mentally. Relax your muscles, let yourself just be.”

Yarrow’s breathing slows as he relaxes, allowing himself to simply stand.

Alex, can you hear me? Claire asks, reaching out with her mind.

Yes, he answers.

Trilby, can you hear me? she asks.

Yes.

Jon, can you hear me?

Yes.

Martin, can you hear me?

Yes.

Claire nods and takes a deep breath, both speaking aloud and mentally projecting when she goes, “Lydia, I believe we are ready.”

“Understood,” Lydia says over an intercom. “Trilby, you may begin.”

Trilby steadies himself with his own deep breath before beginning the ritual. “In this hall of death, and by the light of Prometheus’s gift, I call thee.”

At this, the circle begins to glow a faint white.

“I bring thee gifts that may tempt thee back. Thy flesh and blood has been garbed in thy finery that thou wouldst be clothed. I bring thee thy lover’s blade that thou wouldst be armed. Come.”

He speaks with calm, professional authority.

“Come,” he says again, voice firm and steady.

Yarrow twitches, ever so slightly.

“ Come ,” Trilby calls a final time.

Yarrow gasps as if he’s breathing for the first time, his eyes opening wide. His hands go to his chest, inspecting the way it moves under his fingers when he breathes. And then he meets Jack’s eyes.

“Jack,” he says in a voice not his own.

Jack lets go of Martin, stepping forward. “Wilbur?”

He nods and reaches towards him. “Jack!”

Jack rushes to him. “Oh Wilbur!”

The two embrace and collapse to their knees, Jack sobbing his apologies into Wilbur’s shoulder. Wilbur threads his fingers through Jack’s hair and kisses the top of his head.

“I forgive you, of course I forgive you,” Wilbur tells him, trying to soothe his love. “I know what you saw. I saw the demon, too. I saw how he tricked you, felt how he used me. He moved me beyond my control. Oh, my poor love. What has he done to you, my love?”

“Given me a life without you,” Jack answers, clinging to him. “Two centuries of pain. No matter what I did, not once did I stop loving you. All I’ve known is agony.”

“Oh Jack. But what can I do?”

“You can take me with you. Please, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s hands shake on Jack’s back. “I- I don’t know if I can do that...”

“It would be a mercy, my love,” Jack tells him. “Possibly a mercy I don’t deserve, but one you can give. I can’t do it myself. Please… Please, pick up my knife.”

Wilbur pulls away enough to cradle Jack’s face in his hands and places a kiss on his temple. “Jack, if I do this, what will become of us? Do you know what will happen?”

Jack shakes his head, his hand on Wilbur’s. “No. Not fully. But I’m ready. And I love you.”

Wilbur frowns deeply and shudders, nodding. “I love you, too.”

The two kiss, soft, lingering, final. When they pull away, Wilbur takes Frehorn’s Blade in his hand. He takes Jack in his hold, tenderly stroking the back of his head. He raises the knife high, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder. With Jack’s face turned towards his lover’s neck, Wilbur plunges the knife into Jack’s back.

Jack wrenches back on a wordless, breathless gasp of deep relief before slumping over, his head on Wilbur’s shoulder. When he does, the knife sparks a bright blue like a bolt of lightning.

Wilbur takes the knife out and lets it clatter to the floor, wailing as he holds Jack close to him.

Trilby turns away from the scene, tipping his hat low to shield his eyes. Claire shivers, trying to maintain focus but tears slipping down her cheeks. Martin hides his face in Jon’s shoulder, softly weeping, and Jon likewise turns towards Martin’s chest to comfort him and hide from the sight.

Once Wilbur’s sobs subside, Trilby turns ahead once more. His voice is softer now. “Wilbur, Jack, you are free to move on. I release you.”

Wilbur lets the last crying jag leave him before Yarrow’s body becomes still as it had been before, this time propping Jack’s body up. When that happens, Frehorn’s Blade stops glowing as well.

Alex, are you here?

Yes, Miss Wyndham.

Trilby, are you here?

Yes, Claire.

Jon, are you here?

…..Yes.

Martin, are you here?

…..Yes. Yes, I’m here.

Claire takes a shaking breath and opens her eyes. “Everyone… Everyone is present. Alex, your part in this has ended.”

Yarrow lifts his head up, holding Jack by the shoulders. He sits there a moment, trembling while his breathing evens out. He moves Jack to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and using the cleaner one of his hands to close Jack’s eyes. He slowly gets to his feet and looks at the blood on him.

“Miss Wyndham,” he says, soft and still a bit shaky.

“Yes, sir?” Claire answers, sniffling.

“Please call emergency services.”

“Yes, sir.” She nods and turns to leave.

“Trilby,” he addresses next

“Yes, sir?”

“Please have Frehorn’s Blade cleaned and secured in the Ministry’s artefact storage. Once we have cleared that with the other authorities, of course.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I... I will be taking some time off to… process these events,” Yarrow says. “I advise that you, Miss Jarvis, Miss Wyndham, and Mister Fowler all do the same. I will be passing along the message to Mrs. Gilkenny to expect your official leave requests. For now, I will join Miss Wyndham to explain what happened.”

Trilby nods as Yarrow makes his way out of the room. Once he’s gone, Trilby approaches Jon and Martin. “Would either of you like to stay any longer?”

Martin shakes his head. “I think we’ve stayed long enough,” he says, squeezing Jon’s hand.

Jon holds Martin’s hand in both of his and squeezes back. “We- we should probably go home. It’s been a long night for all of us.”

Trilby nods in grim agreement. “Well, you know where I am if you need anything.”

“Right,” Jon says. “You, too.”

Trilby goes to the wall and presses his side’s intercom button. “Jim?”

“Yes, Trilby?” Jim answers, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I have to go to artefact storage. Can you please see Jon and Martin home?”

“Be there in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll go with them,” Lydia says. “And I can come back to escort you as well?”

Trilby hesitates a moment before hitting the button again and going, “I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Lydia.”

-

Jon and Martin spend a long time lying awake in bed. The crying from tonight’s grim reprise of memories of the Panopticon ended some time ago, and the comforting caresses that had previously been urgent have now stilled in a calm but melancholy embrace. Nothing but the dark, the ambient noises of their flat, and their breathing now evened out.

Eventually, Martin speaks. “Jon?”

Jon has his head tucked against Martin’s neck from his spot half-draped across his chest. He pulls up to look at him. “Yes, Martin?”

“Do you think… do you think you would have done it?”

Jon presses his mouth into a line. “I’m not sure. Maybe? I want to say I would have kept my word if we had no other choice.” He sighs. “I can imagine his pain enough that I probably could have done it if I just focused on that. Still...” He trails off there.

“I’m glad there was another choice,” Martin says, idly moving his fingers against Jon’s back.

“Would you have done it?” Jon asks. “If it came to you?”

Martin takes a deep breath and says, “Same boat as you. If we had no other choice, maybe I would have. Hard to think about, though.”

Jon closes his eyes and leans towards Martin, pressing their foreheads together. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to. Maybe that’s too selfish.”

Martin hums a moment before he shifts and kisses Jon’s forehead. “Well, maybe we have enough to live with without adding to it.” He smooths his hand up to run his fingers through Jon’s hair.

Jon hums in return and moves to press a tender kiss to Martin’s mouth. “Martin?”

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for letting me be part of your life.”

Martin gives him a tiny smile, finding some unexpected, grounding peace in that. It’s the relief of being out in the cold winter but seeing the soft glow of the light in your house and knowing soon you’ll be warm.

“Thank you for letting me be part of yours,” Martin says in return, giving him another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jon says before nestling his head in the crook of Martin’s neck again.

The two settle down, Martin fully wrapping his arms around Jon and giving one more kiss to the top of his head. Jon half-yawns and lets himself be still, finally where he should be.

[cerberus253]

Today is Cabadath Day, July 28th!!!! ‘Tis the day to take reve- er, I mean to cut ties will the toxic/hurtful people in your life! Praise to the Prince Cabadath and karma is sure to come to your enemy- er, I mean, to give you the strength to leave the negative people in your life! ;’D

[skellinore]

Lord Cabadath.

I was doing some research on Cabadath, considering I've seen him like once back in my childhood.

Then he suddenly he came back, memories rushing into my head.

So into the fray I went.

Spent my time watching and reading stuff about Trilby's Notes, where Cabadath is originally from.

It's pretty interesting, I was never one for typing response games.

Is that the right category?

I dunno.

Along with Cabadath originating before Slenderman.

Which I think is great!

The fact that the Creepypasta Fandom just abducted this demon, just.

Y O I N K.

I love that, thanks guys.

Also I know I drew Cabadath's scythe wrong, I KNOW IT'S FOUR BLADES.

I just suck at perspective.

;-;

I'll try next time.

Maybe...

Anyways, this is where I speak about my head-cannons about the characters I draw.

I love my OOC takes.

So this Cabadath isn't going to be the same as his in-game counterpart.

I'm referring to this version of Cabadath to where he is in the Creepypasta Fandom.

1.) Faceless Demons such as Lord Cabadath and Slenderman are royalty in Demon/Hell hierarchy. Second highest to be exact, before Zalgo's family.

The reason being is due to immortality, power, and magic, along with not needing to sacrifice something for curses, spells, teleportation, and basically, everything else.

Lord Cabadath is very, and I mean very strong with magic and curses.

2.) Faceless Demons are also made of pure magic along with one elemental element when being born, Cabadath was born with the darkness element, he can control shadows, nightmares, insanity, and can also possess Demons, Humans, and even Angels without a binding spell.

But because Faceless Demons are made purely of magic, when they die, their body transforms into magical dust that's seeps into the ground, a tree surrounded by soft blades of grass and their favourite flowers grow in its place in an instant, it's unable to be cut or burned down.

3.) Because Faceless Demons are part of royalty, it's not uncommon for arranged marriages to happen. When Cabadath was younger, he was forced into one, and forced to produce offspring, which was hard for him. Since Lord Cabadath is aromantic and asexual.

Because of this, Cabadath refuses to do the same thing to his children, often getting into spats with his significant other.

4.) Every species has two rulers that represent their species as a whole, and Lord Cabadath is the ruler of his people, making Slender, Splendor, Trender, and Markus, princes. But sadly, all of his children had abandoned tradition of their people, which to Cabadath's significant other's dismay, he is happy for them, they are free to make their own decisions.

I know most of those head cannons were about his species, but I'll actually explain more about him in my later drawings to come.

Hopefully.

>:3

Anyways, have a wonderful day or night.

[skellinore]

Lord Cabadath and His Son

Screen tones...

It's better if you click on the image.

I swear.

;3;

Anyways, Slenderman is on the left, in case none of you have seen my design for him.

Cabadath is on the right, isn't he just...SMEXY?

Anyways if any of you have been actually reading the head-canons/lore I've been building for the Slender family plus Zalgo.

You'll be surprised to see that I am now building my own Creepypasta AU for these guys.

Basically this AU is where humans don't exist, so demons and random cryptids live on the surface of the world or the Underworld, whatever they prefer.

I'm also making some huge changes to some characters because of this.

Cabadath and his people rule the Overworld/Surface.

While Zalgo's family rule the Underworld.

Which means since humans don't exist, Slender has a different outlook on life and actually has a job instead of being edgy in the forest stalking and killing humans.

He's planning on taking over the kingdom for his people when his father and other parent finally retire.

Speaking of the other other parent, I've decided to make them non-binary. I'm also changing their whole character, so disregard everything I said about them before.

Markus Sinclair, my version of Offender is a detective for the Underworld, he's very much a good boi with a huge drinking problem. Please go to rehab. He gets no bitches.

I'm still reworking Splendor and Trender.

I'll also be working on explaining biology for my version of Faceless Demons/Glass Demons, which is what Slender and his family are.

How they reproduce and such things.

Because I can't get over what someone said on my one post.

They don't reproduce like humans.

>:|

Everything is getting a rebuilt!

World-building.

This is so much work.

But I love them.

UwU