CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.
-----
The King is here.
You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.
It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.
It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!
You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.
You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.
You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.
So they march to their deaths.
The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.
You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.
No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.
Not anymore.
It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.
There were people here.
The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.
You try not to think about it.
You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.
There are still no tears.
Plan B, then. The King himself.
You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.
He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.
"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.
He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.
"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.
You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.
He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.
"I don't know." It's the truth.
"You don't know?"
"I don't remember."
The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.
"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."
He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.
It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.
It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.
You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.
"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."
Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.
Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.
You
Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.
So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.
Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.
You
Blink,, and
The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.
How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.
It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.
Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.
You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.
You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.
can u explain the hands in ur most recent grian and xelqua comic perchance
the gloved hand is kingdom of valor, the hesitant one in the middle is YHS, and the last was another au of mine bc I couldn’t think of another tragic grian 😭⭐️
doesn’t make perfect sense, but I liked the idea of reference instead of random implications ? @_@ if that makes sense
actually tearing my hair out bc i sat down to review my fic today since i’m getting close to the publication date (i think i should mention that i write in first person for the initial draft because it goes smoother during the writing process since i’m literally just projecting what’s in my head onto the screen and then go back to change it to third person later) BUT AS I WAS GOING THROUGH THE CHAPTERS IT SOUNDED SO GOOD IN FIRST PEROSN POV :((((((((( but reading fp is kinda cringe imo so i tend to avoid it for the final draft but like AUGH IDK i’m in a dilemma I NEED HELP DECIDING
wondering if childe being designed with red hair was researched and has a deeper meaning bc theres a bunch of stuff that makes a weird amount of sense. for him to have red hair specifically.
red hair is basically a mutation (mc1r gene) and it affects a bunch of different stuff, not just hair color, but also vitamin production and pain receptors
redheads in particular produce their own vitamin D so historically people with that hair color moved more towards colder climates bc they could retain heat better and thus could withstand the cold more. bc of their vitamin D production they also had stronger bones than people who didnt have red hair so its theorized that in colder climates redheads were having more children than non-redheads bc the latter just had brittler bones and had a rough time in the cold (the video i watched abt it also made a joke abt how redheads would thrive "underground" more than in the sun and well. funny that). also apparently some redheads need 20% more anesthesia than non-redheads bc they can have a higher pain tolerance
so its interesting that childe, known redhead, lives in a cold climate (snezhnaya) has a lot of siblings, and survived the abyss (makes his own vitamin D, has Stronger Bones, possibly high pain tolerance) its kind of hilarious? are u telling me him having red hair is deep. i love that
The only person who has actually seen Kaeya's right eye after the immediate treatment post-Confrontation is Adelinde. He adamantly refuses to let anyone else see under it, especially those like Jean or Diluc who knew him best. The thought absolutely makes his gut churn. He would do anything to make sure no one catches sight of his eye if he can help it. Anything.
Okay okay. last one..... for now .... 😈 trans robot also trans in a human way. remember?
[VD: A clip of transformers: Earthspark of Nightshade Malto, a young terran transformer, speaking with a human on a roof top at night. Now with their owl alt mode, dark green plating, lighter coloured limbs, very large green eyes, swooping pointed shapes on their shoulders and helm.
Full transcribe below
Full moon in the sky, owl hooting. Nightshade bursts into frame with a screech, holding the human in their talons.
They fly down to a roof top, the human making noises and saying "OH! Put me down, put me down!". Nightshade transforms into bot mode, parts of their helm folded inwards, and covering their lower face with a mask like plating. They lean into the light and unfurl their plating.
The human has a bob with bangs and a blue streak, and wears glasses, and is hiding behind a held up bag, afraid. The bag has rainbow handles, and several ennamel pins, including one that says "She/they".
Nightshade tilts their head: Oooh! I like your pins! [The human looks confused, Nightshade smiles] I am Nightshade, my pronouns are they/them!
She smiles cautiously and lowers their bag: Thanks, I'm Sam. [They approach Nightshade] I'm... She/they... but you already know that. [Laughs awkwardly]
She walks to the edge rooftop, looking over the city. Nightshade leaps ontop of the water tower. Eyes big with awe, camera rotating around them as they take in sight: Wow, what an amazing city.
They leap down the half wall Sam stands infront of, balacing and walking across it. Sam watches this: I'm sorry for how I reacted, its just. [They lean again the wall, looking down to the city] Sometimes the world can be... a scary place. It's hard to know who's dangerous or not.
Nightshade sits, legs dangling of the roof, humms: That's true, though disapointing. [Looks down sadly]
Sam, encouragingly: Hey... its okay! I know I'm safe when I'm with my friends... or other non binary people [She gestures to Nightshade]
Nightshade, looking interest: Non binary?
Sam: People who aren't female or male. [Nightshade looks away. Sam off screen] Awww I'm sorry... I shouldn't have assumed.
Nightshade smiles, joy in their voice: I always knew my pronouns felt right but. [Flicks eyes ups, looks down. Cut to wide] What a wonderful word, for a wonderful experience.
please please please let me get the job that is 11 minutes away from me on quiet roads and not have to take the one with city traffic three traffic circles and a scary turn amen 🙏
Didn't think the 1989 version of The Woman In Black would be scarier than the one with Dan Radcliffe in it
I was Wrong flkjdsafkldsja, but I'm delighted to have been wrong. I had missed getting scared with more practical effects/careful timing of things in the background of shots appearing and disappearing, and this one scratches that itch well.
Whenever I see a mutual post dislike or hate for a kin of mine/a relationship (ship) between my kin and my kin's partner I have to try so hard to stay normal like I don't think people always know how serious otherkin is like that's me you're insulting that's my relationship you're insulting