#he is kept alive through all the horrors just to suffer

[ivyithink]

i am forever thankful that in tlk religions and beliefs seriously influence actions and views of the characters, but all seemingly mystical and supernatural things have logical explanations, making the world grounded in reality and viewing experience a lot less confusing

that said, i am a complete hoe for some scary supernatural religious horror imagery, so yeah

[gabessquishytum]

CW: past child abuse, past parricide

Special inspector Hob Gadling hates his job. Well, it's actually not true - he loves his job, but today specifically, he hates it. First, he was hoping for a bonus, and now he got assigned to a years-old cold case 'just to ensure that no new details emerged, and the investigation needs not to be reopened.' Second, he'll have to deal with some filthy rich weirdos.

Destiny Endless is a top-tier consulting risk manager, his services costing more than Hob's yearly paycheck. Death is the founder of a successful chain of funeral homes - after all, people always die, and rumor has it that Death is the best in her line of work. Dream is a famous writer who's able to write it all: whatever genre he sets his eyes - and pen - on, the book becomes a bestseller. Desire Endless is a porn star; the only mention of their name makes armies of fans go hard, wet, and horny. Despair founded a pharmaceutical corporation and revolutionized the world by introducing new, highly effective antidepressants. Destruction seems like the only normal person in that fucked-up family of masterminds: he had made a career in the military and then fucked off to travel the world. Last but not least, there is Delirium, an artist. Personally, Hob thinks that one needs to be constantly high to come up with such colors and forms, but hey, it's not him who's paid six figures to install some mind fuckery in amusement parks, so he doesn't get to judge.

Hob wouldn't come close to any of these freaks, but he has to verify that nothing was missed during the investigation, and so, here he goes. Mama and Papa of the Endless disappeared almost twenty years ago with no trace. Their bodies were never found, and there was no evidence of foul play. They just vanished into thin air, voilà. It was presumed that they had got bored, bought themselves new personalities, and left to live someplace else. To Hob, this seems strange yet plausible: looking at their kids, it's obvious that insanity runs in the family.

Still, Hob shows up to do his job, examine old records, and talk once again with all the Endless heirs. All goes very smoothly - there's nothing suspicious, all the kids' testimonies match. Hob would gladly close the check, but there is one tiny problem: he fell head over heels in love with Dream. Now in his thirties, he's unconventionally beautiful, insanely talented, and he's got Hob wrapped around his slender finger. Dream keeps his distance at first, but eventually, they begin dating. Hob finally closes the check for good - it's as clear as day that Endless parents must be chilling on some private island - and plunges into the relationship with Dream, learning him from the other side, as someone vulnerable, insecure, and kind-hearted. There's only one strange thing: Dream is inexperienced in bed for his age, and he's always somewhat tense during sex. Hob tries to talk to him, but Dream shuts the conversation down. Hob guiltily googles his bf and finds out that despite his high profile, there are no mentions of his exes in the media. At all.

Hob is puzzled, but it all falls into place when, one night, his lover has a nightmare. Hob wakes up from his screams and, with horror, realizes that this is more than a nightmare - it's a memory. He wakes Dream up and holds him while he cries. On the periphery of his mind, Dream's screams and pleas create a terrifying story of the siblings being abused by their parents for years.

'You killed them together, didn't you? Each of you thought you were the only one who suffered and thus kept the others safe. But once you all learned the truth…' Hob whispers into Dream's hair and holds him tighter. 'It's alright, my sweetling. I'd have killed them myself for you if they had been still alive.'

They stay like that through the night. In the morning, Hob makes Dream breakfast like nothing happened and goes to work. He's got no reason to worry about the case ever being reopened: there's no evidence, and he's determined to be the only one who sleeps by Dream's side till the end and holds him through his dreams and nightmares.

I love this so much. Poor, poor Dream. And the rest of the siblings too!

Hob doesn't want to draw further attention to the case of course, but he does all he can at work to make sure that files are carelessly "lost" or at least buried so deep in the archive no one will find it for a century. It even occurs him to frame someone else for the crime to make sure that the siblings are thoroughly safe, but... its better left forgotten. God knows Hob will spend the rest of his career making sure that no one ever goes sniffing around the Endless siblings ever again.

What's more he'll spend the rest of his life helping Dream in his recovery. He makes sure that he has private, confidential access to resources that a survivor should have - none of the siblings ever told anyone about the abuse or went to therapy because they're terrified to look like they had a "motive" to get rid of their parents. Hob changes that. He persuades as many of the siblings as he can to visit trusted therapists. Not all of them go for it, but at least someone is finally advocating for them and offering a little bit of support.

Hob loves Dream most of all of course, but he considers all the siblings as his family. He hates what happened to them. He can't fix it. But he can protect and love them as they deserve. Maybe all of them can finally breathe a little easier, with a friend on their side.

[hongjoongscafe]

Bloody Love...

Chapter: III -Touch-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 4k+

♠︎Warning: murder, physical abuse, slight stalking, 69, fingering.

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist

The silence. It was intense. The heartbeats could be heard out of the chest. The chaos in the village was parroting around as a reminder of the terrors that suffocated them just enough to make them suffer and kill them slowly, making them feel every single pain possible. To make sure that they felt it in all two hundred and six bones.

Was living even worth it in this world? In the end, everyone is supposed to die anyway. And being a slave and knowing there is no out, was it worth a try to live?

For so long, all the commoners, with little humanity left, lived with the hope to see a pretty sunrise and pink and purple sunsets. But all they got was grey-blue mornings and the darkest of the nights. Was there any day that the sun shone warmth? No. There wasn't. Just like King's heart, the sun was cold too.

The hatred in everyone's eyes was screaming red and bloody murder. Just one touch and your head could be gone flying in the air, away from your body.

No one was allowed to breathe without permission. Whoever was alive, wasn't because they kept themselves alive… It was because the King still hasn't written about their deaths.

Would it be too bad to wish for the King to write about their deaths soon? Death was easier than the torture they put everyone through every day.

Would the king be the one writing his own death? Or will someone else write it for him? Is he even supposed to die? Was he going to live forever?

What if the king died? Would the sun become warmer and bring warmth to people's cold hearts?

“Circe,” Coronis weakly started as she was sitting on the chair and her little sister was sitting on the floor by the hearth, to warm her hands. The evenings were getting even colder. “Why would you leave my side, especially when I told you not to?”

Circe's lips frowned downwards, “I saw a tiny puppy that was running away,” she said nonchalantly. “I just wanted to play with it,” her shoulders shrugged.

Coronis sighed and left for the kitchenette. She had no vitality to deal with Circe. How many times was she supposed to repeat one thing again and again? It was tiring for her.

Circe has always been the one to not listen. She always thought that whatever her sister and the rest of the family were saying was just a bunch of foolery just to keep her from going outside and keep her from the merriment outside.

Coronis was just four years old when she first witnessed a heartless, gruesome execution. That time, she didn't eat food for a week and kept vomiting out anything she put in her mouth. The reason was that the family wasn't able to produce enough material for the King's wife and son. The Assassin pulled all of them out on the gravely path and stabbed them in the face again and again. His partner started decapitating the bodies like a chicken.

The parts of the bodies were hung around the village to show the power and punishment. The young children were slaughtered and left to decay in the shack they lived in. A few nights later the shack was burnt with all the unfortunate members.

The picture of the incident was pasted in Coronis's brain.

Every detail of them was still fresh and very much alive in her. The trauma she survived. Just at the age of four, she understood that she was living in hell and had to obey to live.

From that day, she saw many heartless assassinations. She saw the path covered in pools of blood and flesh. Now a beheading was just a simple thing for her just like killing a chicken without any remorse.

When Circe was born, Coronis saw her smiling. She was still a child and seeing another human made her maternally emotional even though Circe was her sister.

That day she promised herself that no matter what, she was going to protect that raw, and genuine smile. Her younger self cried in silence and cursed at her parents for bringing another little human to life just to make her suffer this unjust too.

Every day she lived with a fear of losing her. The little bit of trust was gone and she became paranoid just for her sister.

But her heart kept hurting and breaking. Circe started growing up, wanting to go out and see the world. However, that world was not made for her. No matter how much Coronis scolded her, she would not listen and do what she wanted. She did not want her little sister to witness any assassination or straight-up lose her sister.

She did that today too. And as much as she wanted to go easy on her sister, she knew the lesson was still left. Circe's demeanour was enough to make the older realise that the younger was still not capturing the air.

Coronis took a wooden spatula and stood in front of Circe, gesturing to her to stand up. Her heart was squeezing inside her chest. Her body shook with rage and fear. Again and again and again and yet her little sister won't take her seriously. Her life flashed in front of her eyes when she saw her in the hands of the patrolman. “Bring your hands out.”

“Why do y—”

“I. Said. Bring. Your. Hands. Out, Circe!” she screamed.

Circe quickly brought her hands out and showed her. She gasped when Coronis whipped the spatula on her hand. “You make me want to kill myself, Circe!” she kept on hitting her hands. “Why do you not listen to me?!” Coronis's voice started to go higher. It was the first time she ever hit her. “Why the fuck do you have to be so nonchalant?! Are you so dumb?”

Coronis had lost her mind. She let out her inner fears and acted however she wanted. As much as her heart was aching, the pleasure was lessening the burden she carries.

Circe screamed and tried to pull her hands away but her older sister held them tightly and kept whipping them. “It hurt!”

“Shut up!” she threw the spatula away and held her by her hair. “Shut up! Why do you want to die so badly? Tell me, I'll kill you, happily! You do realize that you were going to die!” Coronis slapped her across the face once… Twice… Thrice… again and again. “When will you realize that the world is not for you? You do not belong outside of this shack! If not those men from the castle, the people here will kill you. They will fucking fuck you and leave you to die. No one is forgiving Circe, no one!”

Circe tried to save herself from her sister. At that moment, she felt like she lost her older sister. A fear sat deep inside her. She regretted not listening to her sister, brother, and parents. Even though she knew they wanted the best, she let her heart overpower her actions.

“I won't do it again!” the girl cried. “I will never go out or see outside without your permission, Coronis! Please, let me go!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Please, Circe, for the love of God, shut up! Do not make hollow promises!” Coronis's eyes were swollen from crying. “Please, stop hurting me, Circe. You do not have any idea of how much your actions hurt me. Who am I supposed to cry out to? I feel suffocated and you just close my nose with your non-seriousness. Is it that easy for you to pretend to be scared?” her hands fell on her sides. “Just… Just don't show me your face, okay? Stay here but do not come in the slot, I beg you.”

…

The light in the sky was gone. The slot was cold and dark, just how Coronis felt. Her hands were burning from hitting the little girl. Her eyes were dried. But her mind was empty of thoughts. There was not a spec of thought that she thought of.

The emptiness was needed for her to think straight. What worse could have happened today? Circe could have been beheaded. Was Coronis supposed to bring her head home? Was she allowed to mourn? Wasn't she already mourning in her own way… at her own pace?

The little light was flickering from the outside. She looked out and saw a pair of eyes looking straight into hers. They weren't hard to recognize from far away. She knew them by heart now.

This time, there was no fear in her heart, just emptiness. She looked into those eyes, thinking that if it wasn't for him, she would have been gone. Two hundred sixty-eight would have been her number.

As much as Coronis was thankful, she still didn't forgive him. What he did was utterly disgusting to her. That too, rightfully. But, was her forgiveness even mattered? Not at all. He was someone who held power over her. She wasn't to forgive him, he was to forgive her even though she had done nothing wrong. But isn't that the whole point? Wrong is always right.

Coronis touched the locket she had. It made her horrified, chills ran down her spine. Her heartbeat picked up the pace, pulling her out of her daze and realising what was happening.

She turned around and tried to calm herself. The door opened, making her flinch. In the dark room, her mother stepped in with a candle and a bowl. “Coronis?”

Coronis sighed and faced away from her mother. “Please, leave.”

Martha chuckled and sat beside her. She was a motherly mother. Whenever she was around, Coronis felt at peace. In the chaos, only she was the calm afternoon in summer.

“You know when Circe was born, I knew I did not need to be concerned about her as much. You were already there, taking care of her more than I ever could. It always felt like she was your daughter. You taught her how to speak, walk, read and so much more. You took care of her like a guardian angel. I have never seen you so protective over anything or anyone ever. It was as if you forgot about the whole world and yourself just to protect Circe from those demons who lurked around and hunted down people,” said Martha as she lit the lantern in the slot. The bowl of soup was in front of Coronis. “When Circe started to grow older, she became ignorant and brought troubles endless times. You know what I'm worried about?” Coronis shook her head. “I'm more worried about you than Circe.”

At her mother's words, she looked at her, speechless. Why would she even be worried about her when her younger daughter has always been laid with danger?

But Martha continued. “Because… I don't want to lose my older daughter to her silly ignorance. I feel how you feel. And I know if something happens to her, I will lose you,” she looked at her daughter with soaked eyes and smiled sadly. “I know this was not the right answer… But sometimes what is wrong is what we need to do just to make things right,” with that said, she got up and walked towards the door with her candle. “Eat something, you need it.”

Coronis was left alone with her thoughts. The orange of the lantern reflected on her features, making her look like a night goddess with a screwed-up mind.

…

It was early in the morning. Everyone was busy with their work. Draco had gone with the cattle to the meadows. Martha took Circe out so that Coronis could have the house to herself and work without worrying about anything.

Coronis had bought the yeast yesterday and was in the pocket of her gown. But the dry fruits from Nori's shop were left behind. She was too anxious about her sister to worry about those dry fruits. She was ordered to bake a dry fruit cake for the King. But later she remembered that she had forgotten them there. And now she was left with only ingredients for the bread. She made a mental note to stop by Nori's shop.

Coronis had removed the locket when she went to take a bath and had hidden it in her stack of clothes. Her mind felt lighter the moment she removed it. It felt like she could breathe properly.

She felt like it brought bad luck to her. Her heart felt heavier thinking about it. The swollen face of crying Circe was rolling in front of her eyes. It was her fault that Circe left her in the first place. Only if she could have held her hand and kept an eye on her instead of losing herself in her thoughts.

Never in her eighteen years had she thought about beating Circe. She felt like she had gone crazy. The way her hands itched to hurt Circe was haunting her even when she was asleep. She had woken up earlier than before, soaking in her sweat and out of breath.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her breaking mind. She looked out of the window and saw Nori standing, looking back at her with a tiny smile.

Coronis quickly left the kitchenette and opened the door, inviting the sweet girl inside. Offering her some water, she sat beside her. “What are you doing here, Nori?”

Nori smiled, “Yesterday, you left your stuff at my shop. I thought I must give back.” She placed a cotton bag on the table. Coronis looked at her and slowly opened the bag to see the contents inside. The dry fruits.

“Nori, you didn't have to. I would have gone there,” she said. “I appreciate it… That you came all the way here to hand over these.”

“I was gonna come yesterday, but I thought you might want to have some time with Circe. Whatever happened yesterday, it was distressing. I can't imagine what you have gone through. Oh, bless that man who saved her! He was like a miracle that had never happened before,” Nori sighed and looked at Coronis's hands that were resting on her lap. Hesitantly, she held them. “I'm glad that you are okay…,” They looked into each other's eyes. Nori saw grief in them, pain that was pouring out. “Are you?”

Coronis bit her lower lip to keep herself from crying out loud. Her eyes dampened with tears. Her body shook slightly and her shoulders shivered. Slowly, her tears trickled down her cheek. A painful sob echoed in the shack. She could feel the pain rising in her heart. Has she ever cried about her pain to someone? No.

“Uh,” Nori panicked. She looked around to see what could help her to calm down Coronis. But then the crying girl held her hands and rested her forehead on them. “I'm not okay!”

Nori realized she didn't want to hear something. Coronis just wanted to let out the pain that she had been hiding behind those cold, dead stares. No one is ever so strong. Everyone falls sometimes. It is hard to keep going when life has always given pain and nothing else. What it was like to be happy anyway? What exactly was happiness? Did it feel good? Did it last forever? Was it something that stayed forever and healed the broken parts? Or was it just a creation of some people to make them feel better about themselves and maybe for a short time, forget the pain that killed them alive?

“I hit her,” Coronis choked up. “I hit her so much. Her face was swollen. Her hands were bleeding,” Nori's eyes widened but caressed her hair. “I was so scared. I was scared to lose her. She never listens to me. I was infuriated!”

“It's alright,” Nori whispered, her own eyes getting damp. “You did nothing wrong. In fact, she will never go against you ever again. It's for her own good, Coronis. Don't beat yourself up.”

Her sweet voice tingled something inside her. She looked up with her swollen eyes and asked, “Am I going to be okay?”

Nori let her tears out. Her lips frowned, trying to not burst out herself. “Yeah! Yeah, you are going to be okay,” she cried. “You and I are going to be okay. Everyone is going to be okay, yeah?” she rubbed her thumbs on Coronis's cheeks. “One day, we will see what happiness is like. One day, we both will breathe the air of love. One day, this world will fall in love with kindness.”

Coronis or Nori didn't know what it was. Was it the vulnerability of the moment or the hidden liking for each other? But they felt a pull towards one another. Their teary eyes shifted at their lips. Nori couldn't keep it more. She let her feelings win and softly took Coronis's lips. Their lips were chapped but the spark was real. Nori cupped her face and kissed her passionately. Their tongues were lapping and their teeth were clashing.

“Please, Nori,” Nori has never heard Coronis as weak as she sounded now. “Please make me forget the pain. Touch me more,” she whispered and placed the girl's hand on her clothed breasts. “Touch me like this is your first and last… Please.”

Without holding back, they stumbled into the slot and closed the door. They sat down in front of each other. They both reached out to undo each other's blouses as they hugged. Coronis littered Nori's neck and shoulder with kisses.

They were bare in front of each other in just a couple of moments. Their nipples hardened when the cold air touched their bodies. They admired, and cherished each other.

“I have never seen someone so beautiful,” Nori said as she cupped Coronis's breasts. “So soft and pretty,” Coronis pulled her in a steamy kiss.

Their hands down their bodies, trying to remember every single curve. Their lips melted together. “I want more,” Coronis whispered against her lips.

Nori quickly pushed her back and spread her legs to see her. She kissed right below her belly button and moved down. Coronis was already wet enough for Nori to put her fingers in. She rubbed her slit with her finger and slowly eased one finger in making Coronis moan.

Nori spread her pussy lips and licked a long strip. She hummed at her sweet taste. It was the moment when Nori realized how much wanted to have her. She still remembered the day they first met. They were about five or six. At first sight, she loved her. She thought it was a childish attraction. But the older they grew, she fell harder and harder.

Whenever they crossed paths, Coronis would smile at her and call her, and say sweet things to her. It made her adore her more than she already did. Coronis's smiles hide sadness yet she lets the curve of her lips go up for her, genuinely.

“Nori,” Coronis moaned. “Come here.” She gestured towards her.

“What's wrong?” Nori asked.

“Sit on my face.”

Nori looked at her with her mouth wide open. “What?”

“I want to taste you, pleasure you,” said she as she pulled Nori on her face, her face facing towards Coronis's bare body.

Nori bent down and worked her lips on her. Their moans resounded through the slot. They were desperate for the touch, and the pleasure. It was both of their first times ever touching someone willingly. Their chests heaved up and down. Their bodies were covered in sweat. The sweet scent of their arousal wrapped around them. Their tongues worked on each other seductively, pulling each other to the climax.

Nori lay down next to Coronis who was still trying to catch her breath. She admired Coronis, looking at how her chest moved, her lips were now swollen and looking luscious. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and her eyes were unfocused.

“Coronis,” She called and her face tilted toward her to look into her eyes. “I don't know what it means to you… But, you mean more than just a friend to me. Since we first met, I have always wanted to be with you. You made my day. You are the only person who I find genuine in my life in this hell hole… For so long, I looked up to you from afar,” she dumbly chuckled. “I kept on wanting to touch, hold you. I felt so dumb. Like… Like, I can't even put these feelings into words. I- I have. I don't know. Bu–”

Coronis kissed her lips to calm her down. “We have all the time in the world for you to tell me however you feel, Nori. Let's just hold each other and live this moment.”

…

The door of the shack opened, showing Martha and Circe coming in. They saw Coronis and Nori sitting by the table, drinking tea.

“Ah, Nori! What brings you here?” Martha smiled.

“Coronis forgot some of her stuff at my shop, I had come to return it. I'll be taking my leave soon,” said she.

“No, no. Love, I just came back home,” Martha sat down with them. “You should spend a little more time. The evening is still young. And I'm sure Circe would love to talk to you.”

Circe awkwardly smiled and looked at her sister who was sitting facing Nori and not once looked at her. “I'm tired… I'll go and get fresh,” she left.

“It's okay, Martha. I need to go and sit at the shop. I, um,” she chuckled shyly, looking at Coronis. “I already stayed here for the whole day… I'm sure Coronis has to do her job too.”

Coronis smiled at her, “I'll see her off,” and said to her mother.

After the final greetings, the girls walked out of the shack, Nori stopped and looked at Coronis who was standing there with a soft smile. “I hope I will see you soon?”

“I'll stop by your shop, Nori… I can help you there if you want,” She offered.

“Just sit there and be pretty,” Nori bit her lower lip. “That's all I want you to do.”

With that, they hugged one last time and Nori walked away. Coronis wanted her to stay for more. But it would have been scary for her to go back at night. She had never felt this content in her shack. The burden she was carrying was somewhat duller. With everything going on around her, the way everything was falling apart, Nori came in like a warm sun.

Coronis's thoughts were crushed when she caught the sight of those dark, viscous eyes. A chill ran down her spine, knowing he was looking right into her eyes.

As better as she felt, new trouble set in her head. She shouldn't have let it happen. What if he came to know about it? Did he already know? Her beautiful eyes widened when he raised his glass towards her.

She quickly went back inside her shack and got to her work. She poured the ingredients for the bread which was not for the king. And added some dry fruits. She could see through the window of the kitchenette as the horses went by. She looked up, her heart skipped a beat when she made eye contact with him again. This time, from much closer. He stopped there and kept on looking.

She wasn't sure if he was that captive or if it was the fear of upsetting him, she just couldn't look away.

What would happen if she did choose him over her? This lonely question made her panic. This could not happen. But was it her choice to choose? No. It was his choice. She could only hope he leaves her alone.

He was a man of his king, she thought. He must be as dominant as his King. The Lord they say.

Those eyes. They made her shiver. Oh, did she pray for him to move away. She could feel her knees weakening. Why did she drag Nori into this?

“Coronis? Where did you get that locket from, that you were wearing yesterday?”

.....

Sanaa's note:

Umm... Everything will fall in one place. Please be there with me, okay? Anyway, your feedback really helps me a lot to write more. Thank you for all the feedback. I hope you guys will keep on interacting and me know how you feel about this fiction. If you have anything to ask, ask it. I'm a nice person, trust me on that🥲. If you have any theory related to this fiction, let us all know that too! By the way, I won't be able to update this frequently. My flat is getting painted again, it will take about 20-25 days🥲. I'll try to update as soon as possible.

The behaviour of all characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes

@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jjkreblog @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711

Have a nice day or night💓

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

wip wednesday

thought i would do this since it's gonna be really hot again over the next few days and heat always makes me super sick (i wouldn't last 5 minutes in avernus lol)

for context it's part of a fic i thought to write since i felt like i didn't fully explore the Raphael-hunts-Tav request i got from a lovely person (and i also wanted to write something dark again since i am not good at it)

welcome to me writing mean and angry raph lol (tbh can't be sure if i will finish this)

thank you laura for labbing raph's dialogue with me ❤️

-

“Why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”

“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed.

“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Then you’ll stay for eternity.”

“You can’t keep me here!”

“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael rasped, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”

A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.

“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd yellow eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!”

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, but I’m nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”

CLICK. Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.

Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains.

“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was lead to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”

“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. They wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto. 

“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”

He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.

“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy. 

“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication. 

“Oh, you’ll learn, my little mouse. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life. 

“You make me sick,” she hissed. 

“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we, pet? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Forgetting the end of the third part of second chance, all of it just made me feel so sad for Lucien. Someone needs to write something about Lucien being brought to Helion way younger, like as a child or something.

Look at me turning into Vanseera and Helion blog and all this time I thought I didn't have it in me. Also, I think I was supposed to make it better but I might just made it worse... upsie...

warning: blood, beating, child birth, all the warnings that come with Beron.

Live, Licien, live

The wind was so harsh. So cold. So bitter. Rarely were the nights in autumn so cold but it seemed like the world had been suffering today alongside Eris. Maybe it was his father's bitterness that followed him. Maybe it was his ever-seeing eyes, that now lashed at him for disobeying. He was supposed to be in the training hall, kicking and slashing at his other brothers. But he couldn't not after today. Not when he had watched the horrors of it for some time now.

How long can one neglect the inner voice? Shouting and clawing at you that it was all wrong. That this was not how the world worked. Couldn't be. His father had been wrong. Real power couldn't lay in the joy of making others suffer. Beg. Bleed beneath your feet. Eris had already done so many things wrong. Had given in to his father's cruel demand. Out of fear of dying himself, had bled others dry. But he never forgot their faces. He could name every single soul he sent to the other world. But this time. This time he couldn't sit still.

Eris's mother had given birth a couple of hours ago. Yet from the moment the pregnancy was announced, Eris felt that something was off. Beron valued his litter. The fighting dogs his wife provided. Eris had watched her go through childbearing multiple times and his father's hands would soften when the swell in her stomach rounded. Yet this time she was offered a cell. A bucket. Beatings. Water if she was lucky. And Eris had never been more confused. Was Beron suddenly against having more sons?

He tried to raise the question to his father. It wasn't in a pleading way, he approached it as a future high lord and yet the furry that left his father the moment Eris spoke his mother's name. The beating had been like no other. Eris hadn't even crowded out of the throne room after. Just laid there hoping that his body would heal a little and then he'll drag himself out. But that was more than enough for him. The baby growing wasn't Beron's. That was clear.

So Eris slipped into the cell as often as he could. He still couldn't properly feed his mother because someone would notice but he kept the food as nutritious as possible. Enough to keep them both alive, to help the baby grow and his mother go through labor. He had bribed the guards who had been ordered to beat her. Eris couldn't stop them fully because his father came down here almost every day to watch his wife fade away. But enough to keep the kicks and slashes away from her bump and breasts, enough to soften the blows.

Eris had pleaded for days for her to tell him the truth. Tell him who the father was so that he could hold onto something. Know why the furry in his father burned so hard. She said nothing, "Not your burden to carry", she said day after day. Until she went into labor. Way too early. Way too fast. The beating that night had done the trick. Even her body had given up on growing that innocent soul within her.

Eris had found her in a pool of blood, panting, gritting her teeth. Pleading with the gods to not let this happen. To let her keep him within her womb just a bit longer. But fate was cruel. It had laughed at his mother that night. No one came to help her. The cell doors had been locked tight the moment her screams echoed through the basement. Eris knew that this was another way of making her pay. Having her die like a rat there while bringing a bastard into this world.

Just Eris had learned parts of the house no one besides him knew off. He had dragged buckets of water there in a hurry, blankets. Did he know what he was doing? No. But his mother was there. The one source of decency. The only reason why he wasn't like his father. So at that moment, he didn't care what he had to do, he was going to fight for them if they refused to. He was going to try and save them.

Of course, his mother had tried to usher him away. Beginning to let her be in her shame. Let Mother Nature do her thing but Eris was unmoved. He crotched next to her. Pushing heaps of blankets behind her and beneath her back. "You'll get yourself killed", she sobbed, watching as he wetted the cloth to soothe the dizziness she was feeling, "Go, before his blade slashes your throat". But her words did little to inflict fear in Eris. He braced his hands on her legs, just as he had seen the healers do many times. Their eyes met and he could tell that something in his mouth had shifted.

Eris heard her scream even here. Even as he ran across the dark forest. At times the wind sounded just like her. No longer like his father. It sounded as if she was crying for her two boys. Her two sons who still had hope of keeping their hearts untarnished. Eris wished he could erase the image of her lifeless body, though. Wished he could have frozen the smile that brushed her features when Eris brought the baby closer to him, pressing his palm over his mouth, to drown out the sobs. And then in the blink of an eye, she was gone. Just a pile of broken limbs and a pool of blood. Eris had talked one more glance before he fled. Maybe they were going to assume she just died like this with the baby instead her. Just bled to death. He hoped they would. For everyone's sake.

The baby inside his arms let out a cry. A cry Eris wished he could have let out as well. Lucien. His mother had whispered the name before she went. Little Lucien. Eris only held the boy closer. Not even hours in this world and he was already fighting toughest battles. But Eris was going to make it better. He was going to save him. He could feel the baby squirming against his chest, feeling the little tears that fell onto his skin, "You'll live, you'll get to live. Live, Lucien, live", Eris muttered over and over as he rushed.

It only dawned on him how this all might look when he was standing right outside Helion's castle. The guards had pointed their weapons at him and here was Eris Vanserra, trembling like a leaf with a screaming baby in his arms, "I need to see him", he pleaded, "Let me see Helion". But no one wanted to listen and no one would have if not Helion himself had heard the commotion and the sobs.

"What's all of this", he had roared, making the guards stagger back. It's only when the red hair came into his view did he halt himself. That same color of hair Helion had kissed so many times on his lover. But it couldn't be her. There was no way for her to leave just like that. It's the panic. The smell of her. The smell of blood. That made him order everyone away as he pushed Eris through the gates.

Eris only managed to make it through into the hall before his legs bucked and he sank to the floor. "Boy, what's all of this? What's going on?", Helion demanded, yet it wasn't anything like the way Beron demanded. Helion had still left him a choice to refuse to answer. Eris didn't trust his words. Not just yet. Not after everything that happened tonight. He pulled his cloak off, pushed the side of his shirt aside, and pulled back the messily wrapped fabric.

Helion's eyes had grown big as he inhaled sharply. Eris could tell that he understood what this meant. That he hadn't expected it. But he knew what this baby was. "Yours", Eris crocked out. Letting the high lord reach out, to pull the baby out of his arms. "Mother died", those words made Helion's body shake, jaw clenching. But he only held onto the crying babe stronger, "Mother died but Lucien lives. Keep him alive Helion. Keep him alive".

[tastytoastz]

Since the latest chapter dropped, I've been thinking. how would 2b2t fit and Qsmp Fit react to one another if they were to somehow meet?

Oh this is such a good question, and it depends on some things.

Like, if Pac or Ramon was there q!fit would not let 2b2t!fit anywhere near them. Not only in fear for what he might do to them but also cuz q!Fit dosn't want them to see him like this.

If the two Fit's just met and we skip over the whole confusion of "there are two of us now" i think 2b2t!Fit would berate q!fit for having 'gone soft' and stupid for trusting people so much and so openly talking about he has a boyfreind and being gay, and that his house is not well hidden and all these things. But there would also be a lot of envy and jellousy. That this q!Fit fianaly get to live as himself around people who trust him and he trusts, that he can relax and let his guard down while 2b2t!Fit is still stuck in the worst of it, still stuck in hell and forced to deal with that. But he would also try to get q!Fit to be less scared of being well...him. Tell him to smile more with his teeth, show the fangs and not hide he likes thrill of the hunt and that they're a dangerous person. That he should not be a shamed or hide these sides of him.

q!Fit would be a bit pissed and ashamed of his past and some of the bad things they did. Some horrible stuff had been necissary for survival some had just been cruel and it would be hard to face his past as it would just be reminders of some of the hardest parts of his life. Would also be an issue of q!Fit being worried other people would see him differently if they met his past self, as he tried so hard to hide the worst and scary parts of himself and 2b2t!fit dosn't give a singel fuck about hiding those parts.

There would also be some humor, they are still very alike in some regards, i don't think it all would be angst. Talking about some fun stuff they did, talking about memories and things they enjoyed of 2b2t.

But even if Q!Fit would be annoyed and not let Pac near him, and ashamed of how 2b2t effected him in some ways, I think he would also hold a lot of pity and empathy for his old self as well. That his old self had to suffer so much and go through so much pain and horror and shame and still make it out alive. He would be thankful for him keeping them alive and keeping them going long enough that q!fit could start to heal from it, kept them going till he had a chance to go to the island and have somewhat of a good life.

And In the end i think q!Fit just tell 2b2t!Fit "You're going to be okay"

[blacklegsanjiii]

•°♤°• East Blue Poly + Soulmate AU + Sanji Never Leaves Germa + Half Robot Sanji

(Sorry if that's too much for you but I need to dump this for you).

Basically, Sanji nevers leaves Germa. His father made him believe that his soulmates are dead. Sanji became more sad that he almost lost his emotions and his ability to live. His brothers are not helping with them telling him that they are fine without soulmates, that they were born without, that they feel no emotion to feel that they are incomplete. Unlike Him.

Sanji still lives through the pain of being experiment on. Judge says that if he doesn't have a purpose as a soldier, then maybe he can have a purpose of a lab rat.

Reiju is horrified by what is happening to her little brother. Rejiu can imagine her mother rolling in her grave. Rejiu, like Sanji, was born with a soulmate, but Judge killed that connection between them before Rejiu can properly meet them. Rejiu can't imagine the pain of her younger brother suffering with knowing that his soulmates are dead.

She is more horrified to learn that her brother is being experimented on. Rejiu tries to be there. She tries. But she cannot disobey Judge (Not father, he lost that title when Rejiu learned what he did to Sanji).

(I will give you more info later on!)

Spade •°♤°•

That is a lot and that's why this has taken so long(please Spade, I'm sorry about the others) But let's get crackin!

Okay so Sanji is rapunzel'd with four soulmates and he stays because Judge has convinced him his soulmates, all four of them are dead. It's completely fucked as he's not in the dungeon but a medical wing, being told if he has no use being a soldier he has use as a labrat. Sanji is just stuck, kept away from everyone and thing and has a window like his mother did but he doesn't see the use in leaving. Having few emotions and having accepted his fate a long time ago he's also just despondent. He thinks he is anyway, he's accepted his fate. He is trapped in a way that is so hard to break from. Not that he thinks he should be allowed to leave anyway. He doesn't know anything else, anyway. Judge already killed his soulmates and he only feels phantom echos of his soulmate pulls. That's all they are, they're dead. There's no way they're alive and he should be fine with it. He should be - his brothers don't have soulmates and when they were younger they used to tell Sanji they were fine without them so why couldn't he be perfect like them?

You're right, Reiju is horrified by what is happening to her brother. She imagines Sora being alive and finding out what has happened to what was the only human of the five of them. She overhears Judge at some point talking about the plans with Sanji, the upcoming experiments and procedures. Shots, wires, a vivisection. They've already taken his ribs and replaced them so they didn't have to deal with those anymore. Reiju is listening and sneaks to the wing where Sanji is and quietly slips into the room where she finds him just waiting. Sanji is sitting in his bed and reading a book like he normally does, his partially black hair makes the blond stand out more than when they were children and Reiju is staring at him. He blinks at her in confusion because why would she be here? It doesn't make sense. The horror ripping through her body is awful and her soulmate connection was completely severed as a child. She wouldn't know where to find them but she can tell Sanji still has his connection although it's extremely weakened.

Reiju rushes over and puts her hands on him lightly, tears streaming down her face because he's alive. He's alive, resting after some intensive experiment Judge has done on him and staring at her because she shouldn't be here. No one is supposed to know Sanji is there and she tells him she will get him out. She promises him that, an escape and safety which Sanji doesn't understand. He has nowhere to go and he has no one out there. His soulmates are dead, Judge said he had killed them and Reiju asks him to think about how he would even know where to find them. He just hurt Sanji's connection to them, he had severed Reiju's completely. She starts plotting and it's a whole thing and she regularly starts to check in with him. She runs into the Strawhat Pirates and asks for passage on their ship after some mission or another, she admits she's partially using them because she's trying to find safe place for her brother to escape to. Luffy likes Reiju a lot and talks about how he has four soulmates and he's found three and they're missing the last one, he asks what her brother is like and she says he's more human than her but he's extremely hurt. Robin hums and mentions their faint echos of pain and hurt that often plague them and Zoro huffs that their soulmate is locked away on some fucking assassin/mercenary island hell and they need saved. Reiju promises that it'll be worth it with a soft smile.

So they do go save Sanji, and by saving Sanji who is fairly out of it because of whatever Judge was doing to him before Reiju got him out to them and they leave with him. Everyone is actually worried about the state he's in when he arrives as Luffy promises to take care of him and Reiju nods and leaves. When Sanji is more coherent in the infirmary on the Sunny he looks at Chopper and blinks because father did not have a doctor like that. So he asks if his father finally sold him off because he was useless and Chopper, who was reading at his desk, whips around and screams in terror. Everyone rushes to the infirmary at that and find Chopper explaining Reiju brought him to them because she wanted him safe and out of Germa. Sanji assures the little doctor he doesn't have to lie, he was expecting it at some point and everyone starts backing Chopper up with his being saved. Sanji looks at them all and Luffy introduces himself and sticks his hand out to shake Sanji's and he does and they feel sort of an electric zing of finding each other. Sanji just does a little 'Oh, huh.' and Zoro asks what that means as Luffy yells that he found their soulmate. Nami and Usopp ask again what Sanji was talking about and Sanji tells them very plainly his connection is weak and possibly mostly severed because he was the failure and therefore became a lab rat.

He is not expecting the anger on his behalf, nor does he understand it. But maybe he'll grow used to it, maybe he won't. For now he's exhausted and goes back to sleep.

[leporidae-station]

springtrap stuff

im like. thinking about my fnaf au with springtrap bc he’s a fantastic zombie rabbit furry with a lot of problems

so I’m gonna subject to you all with some facts and hcs

during the time he was springlocked, William had already injected himself with remnant which kept him alive and in a bit of a dreamlike state and in constant pain at the same time

springtrap goes into like a void?? his brain still functions even hours after getting springlocked and with the added remnant coursing through him, it forces him into a place where he relieves certain memories of his life

it goes back in forth, where one moment he’s remembering the first time creating the diner and cut back into another memory of his childhood

however these little flashes occur less as springtrap goes back to experiencing the pain of being impaled in every single possible way

remnant is not the only thing that keeps him alive, it is also his sheer will to survive and his anger/vengeance like this man refuses to die and continue to be angry (his agony, emotions are very strong)

over the years, the suffering and anger just kind of melts his mind a lil bit and he becomes more feral (he’s still william afton just a lot more,,,angry cat)

bro also has mushrooms growing on him

springtrap has tons of mycelium (thread like filaments) within him that basically suck out the nutrients of his body

shadow bonnie, in charge of keeping him in bay, eases him (I also have an idea that she’s the one to bring him good memories too as a way for him to move on kind of how in the frights books where jake is able to leave the stitchwraith body via remembering good memories)

that doesn’t work oopsies

springtrap has stitches all over his body, some were made by shadow bon or by himself in order to keep himself together (he made those after escaping the closed room and the horror attraction)

he absolutely loathes crows

the birds keep coming back to take a piece what’s left of his rotten corpse and at one point, many of them flocked towards him in such a violent manner he has ptsd from it that he reacts really aggressively at the sight or even mention of them

springtrap thinks quite highly of himself since he was able to cheat death

he’s no longer william afton he’s something MORE not the man he used to be, william is of the past now

but deep down hes pretty conflicted with it, since after living for so long he kinda just wants to end it all (tho his fear of death, i hc that springtrap is terrified at the prospect of it, prevents him)

he’s a gaslight gatekeep girlboss

springtrap sometimes loves toying with his victims but only if he considers them to be enough for his time and effort

other times he just kills them just for the remnant

he misses his family and henry more than he likes to admit it

he adores his wife very much!! but keeps trying to convince himself she’s just going to be in the way (she’s the identity of shadow bonnie btw)

doesn’t actually hate michael but is still angry due to the bite of 83 and the fires

[voidandabyssal]

My Horrortale brothers HCs!

horror sans = axe

horror papyrus = crooks

Axe:

much like the actual horrortale comic, Monsters resorted to eating human flesh in order to survive, in my HC, this includes Sans. Years of despreation and hunger eventually drive him to start eating the humans he hunts.

Axe used to feel guilt, at least in the beginning. Once Undyne cracked his poor skull, well, he was just too lazy to feel anything.

He's too far gone to care anymore, and fuck anyone who tries to make him feel guilty. He kept his brother alive, his community alive. That's all he cares about.

He's quiet, The skull injury makes it difficult for him to speak. He's not entirely mute but he his mind moves to fast for his mouth to move. So a lot of the times he'll say parts of a sentence, and it may be disjointed, or he may speak slowly.

he also struggles with memory loss. Remebering things that have happened recently is really tough on him. So hes taken to carrying around a notebook, when he wants to or needs to remember something he writes it down. Then he can just check whenever he needs to.

he stares. Seriously, when he likes something (or someone) he just looks at them. You can tell when he's looking at someone he likes because they'll have his full attention, and if he likes, likes them? His remaining eyelight will be all blown up.

It's cute, creepy, but cute

Once the barrier is broken he struggles to find something to do. Axe spent years just surviving, he never had to worry about what other people thought of him, or how to get a job, or how to get and maintain finances. His skull injury and processing issues make this even harder.

so he bounces jobs for a while, somedays he's a hotdog vendor, sometimes he's a retail clerk, sometimes he's a security guard. Sometimes he's unemployed. You can never guess what he's up to.

he, and every other Monster, receive government money. As restitution for their whole species being locked under ground to suffer. So him and Crooks aren't poor, they're doing pretty okay for themselves

Crooks:

Crooks feels horrible surviors guilt. In the first few years of being on the surface it's something that made him horribly depressed. Even if he hide said depression. He suffers from nightmares of the Underground and all the friends and neighbours he lost for years. It's something he never really gets over.

He wears braces! Crooks needs a lot of dental surgerys and treatments in order to correct the years of abuse Queen (horrortale Undyne) put his teeth through.

When all the identitys of the humans who fell underground and were killed are revealed, Papyrus writes letters to all their families. Apologising on behalf of everyone.

He gets a job as a nurse! After years of study (and therapy) he starts working in Ebott hospital.

He consitently wins employee of the month once he starts working

He and Axe still live together, they don't ever want to live apart from one another. Not after what they went through. So if you wanna smooch Crooks or Axe. You gotta accept the other brother. they're a package deal

he forgives Queen (ht undyne) and Doctor (ht Alphys) for what they did. He doesn't speak to either of them, however.

He largly still remains the same happy skeleton as before, just a lot of his naivite and innocence has been washed away. He's more of a hopful realist then an optimist now.

He and Axe have a cute three bedroom home in the suburbs. It's a quaint cottage. Perfect for the two of them. It's quiet to, which is important for when either of them are struggling with an episode.

did I mention that? Yeah both of them occasionally have flashbacks to the Underground. Sometimes they forget they're not starving, sometimes they're so stuck in a flashback that they end up physically lashing out.

Feel free to send me any askes! I'll answer anything!!

[ask-dancing-fox]

Ruined by Fury

You are angry. You are angry and everyone knows it. The fire within you will not die, cannot die. For if it dies, you won't have a reason to burn. Your rage simmers close to your chest, it boils near something you won't touch. You are angry because it is easier than anything else. You are angry because you chose it over pain. You are ruined because you cannot feel anything but your own ire.

. . .

The truth was inevitable, unavoidable, something that was ever present in one's mind just the same as death. Facts were carved into the unchangeable stone of reality and all were crushed under it.

Everything Dies.

And fury was what kept Sabito alive.

On the outside the fox was unmoved, unafflicted by mere principles. The waves could thrash upon that testament for all eternity but it would never be erased. He was helpless and that only fed the abominable wrath within him.

That face of porcelain over his own was one of mercilessness and brutality, a phantom horror that loved only carnage. It cared for nothing, it felt nothing- nothing but a tearing hunger for revenge where a sense of justice once was. On the outside he was a monster even worse than the demons he slaughtered but under it- ...Under it he was just a man...

A boy trying to be a man...A boy who never lived to become one...

In life he was stern because be cared and under that soulless mask was the softest, most angelic face... His smile was a blessing and something that promised everything would be alright...A perfect lie that died horribly in the hand of unfairness, and that hand had been stained many times before upon a great many hands.

No matter how many Sabito had severed ten more took it's place. Evil would never be fully erradicated from the world...It was an endless, folly battle...Almost pointless.

And yet he fought. Even now he refused death though he was already dead. He wouldn't dissappear, it was impossible with such bitter and grievous resentment storming in his chest and churning his stomach. He could not rest when such a demeaning fate was brought upon him, robbing Sabito of his destiny to eliminate hordes of demons and foul 'humans' from the earth.

Thousands...Thousands would've died by his blade...

It didn't matter anymore. He was dead and that was it. Nothing could be done and there was no point in wallowing the fantasy of a better outcome. The only way to go was forward and he spent his days with only that senseless anger to keep him company and a numb acceptance of what became of him...

He would hope his death hadn't brought too much suffering but hope was just another lie to be smashed in the clutches of a reality that favored misfortune.

But, as useless and foolish as it was Sabito did harbor a single, feeble hope deep within his heart, underneath all that bleak rage.

He hoped he'd be forgotten.

That's the only way he'd ever truly die...And Sabito hoped he would...

He'd bear it all...All the turmoil and raw anguish for the both of them...Regret and unfinished buisness should be left for the dead.

He hoped....for Giyuu to be happy again...

But Giyuu's smile had died with Sabito...

Sadness was weakness and a man should choke it down and push through. There was strength in anger and that's why Sabito chose it. Anger was what kept him tethered to this realm and he wouldn't leave, not while demons crawled the earth and Giyuu was unhappy. He had to find someone to avenge him and rectify what had been ruined. He'd linger in this forest as long as it took to find someone to carry out his will...someone to kill the hand demon and someone who would make Giyuu smile again...

But for now this was all he had...This fire in him...His undying fury.

[willfulabyss]

Before the new update drops, I might as well post my feelings about the 2.2 story because unless they retcon it, I don’t think 2.3 will (or can) rectify my issues with it. I took a long break halfway through the story before coming back to finish it, and while the second half did get better, it didn’t make up for how disappointing the first half was.

Tl;dr: Why did they bait us with an incredible 2.0 and 2.1 and then fail to deliver on what they built up?

Major 2.2 main story spoilers ahead!

First off, the Misha/Mikhail story. Was anyone else seriously disappointed with it? This is the main reason I put off finishing the quest for a few weeks. I was so disappointed and underwhelmed with how it panned out. After so much buildup, it fell completely flat for a number of reasons, the biggest being all the horror buildup with no horror payoff. Himeko cheerfully walks us through the literal hellscape that is A Child’s Dream, all-knowing for whatever reason, and then we learn that Misha is just the escaped memory bubble of Mikhail’s youth, and that Mikhail largely lived a fulfilling life? Like, I suspected Misha may be Mikhail just on account of their names. But if there wasn’t something nefarious going on, why on Earth is A Child’s Dream so terrifying? Why did Firefly feel “an unwavering resolution in the face of death” or whatever while we were there? Why was “Death” (which was also kind of a letdown as a ferryman to the other side rather than the embodiment of humans’ fear of death, as it was described in the special program) lurking in there while putting on a horror show with all the TVs and lights? What’s the deal with all the text that appears in Death’s horror room—“Penacony must save itself,” “no, don’t come close,” “get him,” “help me,” “don’t let him get away,” “I don’t want to die,” etc.? Why is there a woman’s voice saying, “Mikhail said… do NOT open the box!” shortly after we open the box containing Misha’s puzzle piece? What’s so dangerous about the box and why did Mikhail say not to open it when it seems like that’s what he wanted all along? That was even a clickable textbox line, not some background flavor dialogue! Why is Misha so distressed and terrified in his disembodied voice lines in the dream, begging Mikhail not to go and to take him with him? What was he trying to finish for Mikhail in the workshop? All this for the mystery to just be that Misha is a Memory Zone Meme who was never in distress at all?

I think I set myself up for disappointment by watching a bunch of streamers play the first two acts over and over before 2.2 came out. All the details I retained and tried to fit together and theorized over ended up being only the most disappointing red herrings. I was really hoping/expecting that Misha was going to be a The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas situation where the Dreamscape was powered solely on his suffering. Sparkle called it “the real Dreamscape,” so I was sure it was the single dream sustaining the entirety of the sweet dream and that it was collapsing because Misha’s will to live was fading. Maybe Misha was Mikhail, or maybe he was his grandson, but I had the idea that Mikhail being considered a traitor by the Family led to them using him/his grandson/his extracted childhood essence in Memory Zone Meme form as the foundation for the sweet dream as punishment. And if Mikhail was Misha’s grandfather, the Nameless distress call in the invite could have been Mikhail/an aware third party like Gallagher (don’t even get me started on him) trying to draw people in to rescue the fading Misha before he disappeared forever. Maybe Misha could have been merged with a Stellaron like us in order to power the dream, and he’s been “alive” for hundreds of years, unaging and suffering just to keep the sweet dream going. It would have been an interesting way to incorporate the Stellaron rather than having it just sort of being there. Or Misha could have been kept “alive” in a dream pool a la Chadwick (which would have been great foreshadowing). And only recently, he’s started to astral project himself out of the real Dreamscape in desperation to find help, but he forgets everything except his day-to-day life as a bellboy once he’s out (which is kind of what happened anyway). Ugh, I don’t know. I just feel like there was so much potential in the plot line, only for it to end up being something so mundane and weirdly wholesome. Like, if you’re not going to make it a horror plot, don’t do the horror setup just to leave those of us who really took to that element disappointed. It felt like a team of completely different writers took over for this plot, and they only had a cursory look at what was already presented. Or someone decided they wanted to tone down the story at the last minute. Just… so disappointing.

Also not sure how I feel about Dreamflux Reef being a community you can just… enter, apparently? Conceptually, I like the idea of “unauthorized” dreamscapes in Asdana where people have created their own cities and such outside the reach of the Family. But, like, how does that work when so many people were taken there against their will? Why didn’t they leave? Can they? Surely plenty of them would want to go back to their family and friends and not start a new life in this place. How did word never get out that the “victims” of Death were alive and well? What happened to their bodies in reality? Does the Family cremate them after a certain amount of time of them being gone, thus making it impossible for them to return? Also, Mimosa in Dreamjoy Memoir says Dreamflux Reef was her home town. How is SHE, an Iris family representative, aware of SUD’s true identity, but the head of the Oak Family isn’t?? Maybe this is explored in the lore and side quests, but I haven’t done those yet, and I can’t imagine a way they could write it at this point that wouldn’t feel like a cop-out. It just felt like such a gaping hole. It would have been much cooler, imo, if the people who were “killed” ended up having to form their own city there in the hopes of being rescued, truly making it a “land of exiles.” Also, now it feels like the victims of Death have no meaning or purpose. Was Death going rogue and just grabbing people randomly? Did Gallagher, who seems to be able to control it, set it on random people? If so, why? After how tight 2.0 and 2.1 were, the whole first half of 2.2 felt like a scattered mess. I hate how any sense of trepidation and unease is shattered by how chill March and Himeko are. Like there was never anything to be afraid of at all in the Dreamscape. They even make fun of that Pepeshi who was just taken, like, “Wow, bro, you actually got scared by that many-eyed thing that murdered you, lol?” It also makes the whole plot Aventurine concocted feel pointless despite how high-stakes it was portrayed in 2.1. In the end, Aventurine getting himself killed in the dream was meaningless because he didn’t figure anything out and ended up lost in god-knows-where until Argenti—for SOME reason—finds and saves him. Why was Argenti roaming the Memory Zone wilds?? How did he save Aventurine, who apparently couldn’t save himself? I love Argenti and want to see more of him, but why was he shoehorned into this quest?? Why couldn’t we at least see his rescue of Aventurine? We’re just told it so off-handedly that it gave me whiplash. (And his EN voice didn’t even work, which made it even more anticlimactic.)

The second half of the quest was better. The stuff with Acheron and Tiernan was legitimately the highlight for me. Very well-done, great buildup, and a payoff that I didn’t expect at all yet that made so much sense. The final reveal really hit hard. The fake-out ending, as frustrating and anxiety-inducing as it was to play through when there were so many loose threads left hanging, was a nice twist with many people having theorized beforehand that we never truly left the dream after we first met Acheron. Robin was cool, and I like the role she played as a foil to Sunday. I really liked her story of getting shot while doing aid work and putting on performances for people on war-torn worlds. It was a surprising example of emotional strength portrayed as, well, strength, and it aligns with her belief that not everyone can be physically strong, but that doesn’t mean they’re weak or that their lives have no meaning. I really appreciate the focus on this type of nontraditional and stereotypically “feminine” strength, which is often denigrated as emotionalism. Despite not being a fighter, Robin is an active participant in the plot after her first appearances makes her seem like she’s going to be a damsel, and I love that she’s the one who saves her brother in the end. I’m glad I pulled for her. I loved the twist with the Order since that lore has been explored in the SimUni already. Sunday’s motivation felt sort of cliche and underdeveloped—a five-year-old could have told him that the Order’s perfect world he desired could never function the way he anticipated—but it was workable. Hopefully we’ll get to see more of him soon and learn more about how his ideals became so warped. Directly following after Aventurine’s incredibly complex mix of stakes and motivations, Sunday’s felt particularly flat. It doesn’t seem like his story is nearly over yet, so I hope MHY doesn’t fumble it. Admittedly, I’ve lost a lot of trust in their storytelling abilities with this update.

All in all, I feel let down by this chapter in a number of ways when I really wanted to love it, mainly because of the Misha stuff but also because the Dreamflux Reef and SUD reveals took a lot of the stakes and tension out of the story for me. 2.2 feels like it wanted to soften the previous two chapters, and that’s honestly a shame. I’m not quite sure how I feel about the rest of the plot elements/story as a whole yet, though. I’ll need to watch it again to refresh my memory. 2.0 and 2.1 were tough acts to follow, and maybe I shouldn’t have expected something that perfectly wove everything together, but I still feel like a lot of momentum was lost and plot threads were dropped or unsatisfactorily tied when there were so many better options with what to do with them. At least it wasn’t as devastating to me as Genshin 3.3 was? Sigh.

time to write another fix-it—or rather “destroy-it” fic?

[shroudkeeper]

08. prompt / shed

To the untrained eye, I would clearly appear to be wandering in this byzantine of monumental trees, weaving between their silhouettes and the dappled light that filtered through. An ominous haze arose to encompass the entirety of this forest, making it difficult for one to find their way, yet the path set before me would reveal itself in time.

With a prayer, I announced myself with the melody of the kanzashi I wore with each languid step taken forward, and with it, the world around me became alive at my feet and from the contours of the landscape, curious spirits were roused from their dormancy. Motes of light the apparitions would appear to others who lacked attunement to the otherworldly, but they revealed themselves to me as freshly departed, ruined spirits.

And there were far more around me than I expected to come across.

I could not be in every single place where death has left an impression, but I make a note to visit them when my task is done, and I will be able to break the chains that have kept them bound here. Perhaps the wind will be one of peace and provide succor, instead of weighing down the heart.

As they slipped from my peripheral vision, the gnarled, twisted branches overhead, groaned as a steady wind gathered at their once verdant leaves, causing a rustling through the canopies. It was a nostalgic, and melancholic sound, which carried a warning as I resumed my approach.

It gathered along the folds of silk, an invisible caress tugged at the ends of my hair, all to draw my attention to where my path would find its end. There stood a lone building, its foundation pillowed by a heavy fog. The shed could easily be mistaken as a place of shelter for the weary who passed through, offering reprieve to the lost. But I knew it well as a clearly placed trap for one to be taken by a ..

❝ . . 食人鬼 ❞

The words formed in my hands and I listened to the clangorous sounds of agreement from the spirits who broke their silence and carried their wails into the ungentle winds. My suspicions proved to be correct.

This variant of malevolence was not unknown to me; I had come across them afore, and the results were very much the same. They violated a mortal's corpse by devouring their flesh, their appetite was insatiable. A feast they would hold with any adventurer or lost traveler who came to find themselves at this unfortunate end of the forest.

But I am no mere adventurer, I am the one who shall cleanse this land of them.

I approached the dilapidated footbridge that led to the very threshold, and upon reaching the poorly hinged doors, they opened suddenly and my quarry presented itself to me.

What I did not anticipate were the forms they had chosen for themselves, nor the fact that I had two to contend with instead of just one. An exceptional ploy; anyone would take sympathy for an elderly couple, one of whom looked as if he was suffering from the burden and toll that old age has brought upon them.

I am accustomed to horrors, and none have struck fear in me, perhaps that aided me in my hunt, for I showed little regard that their faces did not appear mortal to me, but depicted their true nature.

Horrific and malformed.

However, they did not recognize the dark nature that surrounded me, largely due to a veil of hunger that had shrouded them. Far too ravenous they were to be entirely aware of the threat who wore a smile for them. Perhaps they had not met anyone who could overpower them while together, yet.

To them, I appeared as yet another delectable prey, considering how the one masquerading as an elderly woman eagerly welcomed me into what would be my supposed last resting place.

I would play the role they desired to see of me, the delicate flower in need of a night's rest, unarmed, unassuming. I smiled, thanked them in my silence, and prepared myself for what was to come. They had not suspected anything yet..

..but with one touch to usher me into this domain, they find that their fates were already sealed.

[mordremrose]

I’m just gonna write a little thing! A little thought for Bloom, nothing too intense, just so I don’t forget it!

1000 words later? Whoops

Writing below the cut, major spoilers for the end of Heart of Thorns and implied End of Dragons spoilers but nothing explicit from EoD :]

Bloom

“Kill me, Commander.” Trahearne could hear his own voice tremble, as horror overtook his dear friend’s face. Around them all, their friends— Rytlock, Caithe, Canach, Marjory, Braham— were exhausted. Worn thin by the fight against the jungle dragon, both physical and within the Dream.

“What? No! Mordremoth is dead. We destroyed its mind from the inside.” The commander protested, their fingers curled around the hilt of Caladbolg.

“But I still hear its voice.” Trahearne looked down at his hands, twisted and blighted as they were. His body was not his— he was corrupted. It was only cruel fate that he had kept his mind this long. Or perhaps something more sinister.

“Mordremoth is alive. One last hateful vestige… a terrible seed, planted deep in my mind.”

Trahearne’s hands curled into fist, as he took a deep steadying breath.

“You must kill me, Commander, before that seed grows. Before… before Mordremoth reclaims what it has lost.”

He reached out now, hands on his friend’s shoulders. The tears streaming down their face broke his heart. He did not want this. He didn’t want to hurt them, to see them suffer so.

Trahearne wished there was another way.

“What is left of me can’t survive on its own, my friend.” He croaked, and felt the Commander tremble beneath his hands. Were they always so small?

“Strike now or—“

Against his will, a rage rose up. A sick bile that boiled in his stomach and burned through his chest as his mind lurched.

Through his mouth, Mordremoth spoke.

“I am the future! I am this world! You cannot destroy me!” The dragon roared, hands tightening around the commander.

“Run while you can!” It took everything he had left to force his fingers to uncurl, to release the commander even as the dragon wanted to tear them to shreds to be remade anew.

Caladbolg flashed in the corner of his eye.

“No!” The commander yelled. Strike true my friend! Trahearne wanted to yell. But he couldn’t, and his mind went dark.

There was no great explosion. There was no dying scream.

If you asked those present what happened, none of them gave any concrete answer.

Canach hesitated to answer, but would confirm that Mordremoth was no longer hounding his mind, or any of the sylvari.

All Rytlock would say was that the confrontation wasn’t pretty.

Caithe mourned Trahearne, in her quiet and melancholic manner, and asked not to push the matter further.

Braham would scowl, shake his head, and shove his way past, unwilling or perhaps unable to describe that final blow.

Marjory Delaqua, normally so elegant and clever with her words, who could see the twists of a plot before anyone else— when she was asked, she could only shake her head and reply ‘I don’t know’.

The Commander didn’t answer at all, because no one was able to find them to ask.

Eventually, researchers at the newly established lab of Rata Novus confirmed what the entire world held its breath to hear.

Mordremoth was dead. He had to be, to explain the slow steady trickle of magic escaping the jungle, supposedly as the dragon… decayed wasn’t the right word, but it conveyed the idea well enough. It was a slow death, they said, not quite the explosive reaction from Zhaitan, who had gorged itself on magic before its death, but a gradual decay. It changed things, about magic, about how the people of Tyria and the soon to be established Dragon’s Watch understood the flow of magic around and through the Elder Dragons. But it was dead.

It had to be.

He woke up. His body ached, as it always did, as he woke. A consequence of being too bigsmall. He stirred slowly, limbs stretching out and tail dragging behind. He had buried himself beneath massive vines this time, the weight of them both familiar and restricting. These conflicting sensations, the constant disagreement with himself… it was the only thing he could rely on. Even his name escaped his memory, although he could hear whispers of it on the edges of his mind.

Traherdremaneth.

It didn’t matter, really.

He moved slowly, not truly wanting to rise, but knowing he must.

He was something in between, and there was no stillness for him. No place of his own.

His one companion, if you could call it that, would be upon him soon. A dogged purserer, both a thorn in his side and a trusted ally, trailed behind him. For a time he thought they left him— and the feelings that had wrought left him stationary in a deep cave for nearly a week before they had reappeared.

He didn’t want them close, he knew that much, but they were one of the few things he had, a consistency. He couldn’t see them well, not with the distance between them, but he could always make out the broken blade at their hip. The one that made the scar across his chest ache.

He wondered what would happen if he let them get closer. Would they strike? Would they know him?

They were his enemyfriend. What would they make of him? Caution kept him at a distance from them.

The longer he was awake, the more memories he could half-remember.

The Orrian landscape stretches out before him and it reeks of his sibling, twisting beneath the dirt. The undead don’t notice him, not yet, and he can take a moment to look closer at the coral. It was neither alive nor dead. Not unlike himself and yet so different to him or anything he had ever encountered before.

He missed his siblings, their quiet talks among the then empty roots, among safe coils with their constant presence around him. They were too distant to feel or simply gone now and it unnerved him. This was wrong. Perhaps they could help him make it right.

There was one other thing, other than his sort-of companion and his unsteady roiling mind, that remained constant. And this was the true constant. A steady beacon, that he could not see or hear, but simply felt in a way that he could not describe. A magnetic sort of pull that had him orbiting closer and closer.

It drew him in, out of the depths and dark underbelly of the jungle and the cave systems, towards the strange golden stones, the elegant walls meant to keep out creatures that wished to destroy the beacon. He was not welcome there, not yet, even though he meant no harm. He just needed to be closer.

He didn’t know how he knew that. He just knew it.

[moiteneia]

Only mortals are capable of forgetting- Headcanon: Hg!Bagi; Hg!BBH e Hg!Cell

I have as a headcanon that hg!Bbh was the one who took care of hg!Cell during the war, when hg!Cell was only 14 years old. But I ALSO HAVE the heacanon that q!Bagi is q!Cell's sister. Let's connect them both, okay?

What if he was never truly alone? Imagine before of all the chaos, deaths and betrayals, before he even met hg!Bad, he wasn't alone. hg!Cell had a twin sister. Both were selected, however, for different experiments. To be guinea pigs for different things. This is what broke hg!Cell and hg!Bad remembers. He watched his desperate partner, being shocked by the guards to stop trying to save his sister. Being held down while being forced to watch her being taken onto a train into the unknown. hg!Bad heard the screams and cries of that child during the nights while he missed his sister. Hg!Bad remembers the promise hg!Cell made about finding her and saving her from whatever could be happening. And Hg!Bad was the one to make sure that the promise could be fulfilled in any way. He taught everything he knew so the boy would survive, even the most unforgivable sins. If he had to become a cannibal to keep from starving, so be it. They would get out of that arena and the three of them would survive. He silently promised the boy. But he didn't expect f!Cell to be taken. hg!Bad didn't expect the boy to scare those who controlled the arena so much. And he blamed himself knowing he was now in f!Cell's hands, he would need to get out of prison himself.

When they met on the island, hg!Bad felt relief, his partner was not only alive, but he had managed to save his own mind. He had grown up. But something in him had disappeared, just as it had disappeared from the demon's own mind - their memories were confused, erased, jumbled together. And that hurt q!Bad, because the boy had forgotten the promise, the reason they had gone through all that horror. q!Cell had his own sister erased from his memory.

This was horrible to realize. He wanted to shake the boy's shoulders and remind him. But...What would be the point? They were trapped on that island, far from any possibility of finding q!Cell's twin sister. And that's what kept q!Bad silent. It was preferable that q!Cell forgot and never felt that loss again, the loneliness, the part of his soul that was missing. But, he, q!Bad, would keep his promise for him. He would remember hg!Bagi until they could both look for her outside the island. Until...They met her. He went into shock seeing the two fighting and playing with each other... Without recognizing each other. Q!Cell looked good next to her. Wow, they were...The same. However, q!Bad noticed the naivety in q!Bagi. Yeah... She had not suffered anything similar to what her brother had gone through, either outside or inside the island... Or, just maybe, the Federation preferred to erase her memory to the point that she didn't even remember that. Honestly? What did she remember besides her name and her love of animals? - Q!Bad wondered, noticing the twins' similarities, especially the gray strands in their hair. The Federation Marks. Marks of what they had lost. Brands that made them even more similar...But more distant. He took a deep breath once more. Silently promising once again. He would tell, not now, but when they were ready for the truth of those who cannot die. That despite the time, the marks, the pain and tears... Ties will never be erased. Then, he ran again with the twins following him, playing tag inside the maze... Just like the old days. And he smiled with this thought.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

It be really nice to see you interpretation of the origins of vampirized versions of btas, tnba, and Gotham versions of scarecrow

"Vampire Backgrounds" BTAS and TNBA Scarecrow (vampire au)

Alright. So I don't write for Gotham Scarecrow and normally I don't write for TNBA characters in general (besides design I find them very similar to btas). HOWEVER. I'm gonna give you a pass on TNBA this time because I think I can incorporate this design specifically for cool lore and background. So with that said, TNBA is not a continuation of BTAS scarecrow or connected at all for this.

TW: Vampire au, body horror and gore descriptions, hanging, religious themes, war (WWII), mentions of overdose

TNBA Scarecrow

okay hear me out. Wild West, preacher of a community out in the middle of nowhere southwest. A grim man. Rules his congregation by fear of the hellfire- and a healthy fear of almost everything else. Almost everyone in the town bowed to his power. Except one man.

A stranger that had come to town. Kept to himself. Insisted he was meeting a companion, wouldn't be long. After the passing months, he continually spurned Jonathan Crane's attempts to pull him into the fold. It infuriated the man of God to no end. How could the stranger not fear him? Fear the things that would happen should he not follow Jonathan's guidance?

When there was a murder, Crane knew exactly who to blame. After all, his word had sway. And he certainly wasn't new to the concept of doing awful things to get his way. Just ask Granny. Or don't- she's long gone. A hint here or there, sermon's to rile up the masses of this "wolf" in their midst. It didn't take long for the town to hang the stranger on the tree that overlooked the cemetery.

When the stranger's companion came, the vampire in disguise, he revealed Jonathan's ruse. Proved who the real wolf was- and that the man they had just murdered was innocent. The vampire was powerful. Promised if they took care of the preacher, he'd let the rest of them live.

And so Jonathan Crane's days were numbered. First, he was beaten with sticks and whatever else was handy. When his face was no longer recognizable, they hung him from the same tree. A burlap sack was thrown over his face under the noose. When his head snapped back and he grasped for air, the town tied him to a post in the field as a scarecrow.

The vampire watched his friend buried and Jonathan left strung up in that field. Bleeding, neck and other bones broken. What shocked the vampire was that the man was still alive, just barely. The short drop hadn't strangled him completely. It was then the vampire realized the true punishment he'd gift... a half-life of immortality being too frightening for others to gaze upon.

The vampire began feeding Jonathan small amounts of blood. Not enough to turn him, not even enough to fully heal him, really. A drop here or there to prolong the suffering. And then, when the vampire found it right, he changed the "scarecrow" in that field. He wasn't completely cruel. He nurtured Jonathan just enough that he'd survive on his own.

Then, in a puff of smoke, he was gone. The former preacher now had to face his wrathful God... If He did exist, then why allow this to happen? If He didn't... Then what else did Jonathan have to grasp onto as he fell? His visage under the sack didn't look like a person anymore.

First he took to haunt the town that killed him, taking them over time in the night. After there was no one left to drain, he moved to the chaotic cities of the time. Lots of men left to die in the street he could feed on before they were buried in the morning. Then as civilization caught up, it was whatever drunkard he could catch unaware. Then it was rats and strays.

In the modern age, he wears silicone pieces to hide his facial disfigurement in the day to day. Most people are surprised but wouldn't say anything to someone who, by all appearances, went through insane physical trauma. However, when he's hunting, he dons his Scarecrow "face" and old clothing to prevent detection in a world that doesn't know. Vampire teeth are very fucked up so if he's not looking to shred flesh apart, he'd have to make a cut and drain or kiss.

Powers: He can see people's veins pulsing in their bodies. Can disappear in smoke that smells like sulfur. Control of animals, particularly vermin and birds. Vampiric strength and senses.

BTAS Scarecrow

Professor in the 1940's. It's just after WWII and things are... different. Jonathan had seen horrors left and right in the war. He'd gotten injured early on, a festering wound in his thigh that kept him to a hospital bed for weeks on end. He watched daily as soldiers were ushered in and ushered out. Missing limbs, missing faces, watching their gurgling death throws. Men crying out for anyone to save them in the face of the end.

He'd already had an unhealthy obsession with fear prior due to childhood trauma. The war simply pushed him that edge too far. This all tinged how he treated his students and others when he attempted to go back to his career after the war ended. Inappropriate discussions about things he had seen. PTSD-laced emotional outbursts at the colleagues that had been able to stay home. It was when several of his experiments went too far and sent a student into convulsions that he was kicked from the university. To say it set him into a spiral is an understatement.

Vampires were not out Yet in this world. Jonathan didn't know about them as he mixed chemicals to get revenge on everyone who didn't Understand. No, he met his Sire by accident. She'd been impressed seeing fear toxin in person. Delilah could see someone different from the others, someone that was also in a lot of pain. A sort of maternal instinct took over.

She watched him in delight as he frightened people to death. What intelligence! But the games had to end eventually- When he overdosed on his own toxin by accident. She eased his fear with her own emotional powers before turning him. Pushed his hair from his face as he babbled about the eyes. Then she raised him as her fledgling until she could teach no more. They went their separate ways on amicable terms.

To this day, Delilah and Jonathan have a good relationship. While they might have had some intimate moments in the past, they are not romantic. However, he'd be at her side to help in an instant if she asked.

Between him already being a smart man and the years under Delilah's wing, he made smooth transitions through the decades. Vampirism gave him control over a lot of his unresolved feelings. That, and time can be very powerful for healing. Now his experiments in fear are for... fun and data. Like in the old days.

Despite some of his odd and old fashioned mannerisms, he has a certain kind of charm that draws people in to allow for feedings. Once the secret about vampires is out, it becomes even easier. He's rather mindful of his donors in terms of marking them. It'd be impolite to leave them terribly bruised or scarred if he can help it.

Powers: Powerful emotional telepathy/transference (particularly Fear Inducement), air walking/water walking (albeit without the grace some others might have), vampiric strength and senses. Can transform into a crow in a pinch.

[starsandspicedpeaches]

The Alternate Approach

Chrisker Week 2023

Chris Redfield x Albert Wesker

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~1,700

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47571694

“I don’t think you want to die just yet, I have something that is of some interest to you.” 

Wesker turned to a nearby computer and tapped a few buttons. Within moments, the liquid began to drain from the large tank at his side and Chris felt his stomach drop. Inside stood a mass of flesh, humanoid, but certainly not human. Talons ripped out of its hands and pale white flesh clung weakly to its massive frame, creating the illusion that the abomination could be dead, but its heart, dear god —its heart was attached to its chest, beating slowly, making it oh so clear this thing was somehow alive. 

“The ultimate lifeform, Tyrant!”

Chris was horrified, he thought he might be sick but steadied himself, refusing to show any weakness in front of the man standing across from him. All the lies, pain, and the deaths of his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members for this thing? Years spent serving with Wesker only for him to throw Chris and his friends to the mercy of the mansion, to fight horrors the likes of which he assumed would only exist behind a TV screen, knowing that most of them would not only die but suffer in the meantime. It was deplorable. So deplorable it was amusing. Chris felt a laugh rising in his chest, a feeling of hysteria in him that could only be brought out by the Captain making the whole tragedy seem like an elaborate joke. But then he looked at Wesker. 

His captain, who always was so stoic, who Chris looked up to as a model of bravery, the man who had torn through both warfare and the daily dangers of Racoon City, and who had been his strongest support when the job was difficult when things went wrong and lives were lost, was looking back at him. Rarely did Wesker betray emotion on his face, but there was an abnormal tenseness on it right now, like he was waiting for something. Wanting something. Then a strange thought began to dawn on Chris.   

Chris looked down at Rebecca. Wesker had shot her without hesitation. Why not him? And why did he want to show Chris his little science project in the first place? Chris was no scientist, he had no knowledge or appreciation for this kind of thing. So why try to explain it to him? 

Wesker was still standing silently, gun pointed at Chris, watching. Waiting. 

“Wesker. What do you want?” 

The older man looked confused for a moment. “Is it not clear?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Is anything you say ever clear?”

There was a long pause. “Chris.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to join me.”

Chris nearly laughed again.

“Why? I’m not a scientist, I don’t understand any of this shit. I failed half of my classes in high school and went straight into the military.”

Wesker smiled at this, not maliciously, but enough to annoy Chris.

“I don’t know the difference between an acid and a base,” He continued, “Much less how to play with whatever shit you’re apparently into. I can’t help you, I'm just another S.T.A.R.S. member and the rest of us seemed pretty disposable to you. So why me?”

Wesker glanced away for a moment, brows furrowed but still holding tightly to his gun. Chris considered trying to grab it from him while he was distracted but knew that his superior was, well, superior, at least physically. So they both waited in silence. 

“Do you remember Barry’s New Year’s Party?” Wesker finally asked.

Chris was stunned. Here they were in the middle of a secret lab, Wesker having killed all of Chris’s friends and coworkers, right in front of a giant mutated monstrosity and Wesker was asking about a New Year’s party that had happened months ago. He knew the man had no social awareness, but — Jesus fucking Christ. 

“Yeah, I remember.” Chris grumbled, “I remember everyone but you being drunk, and how you kept complaining about how it was too loud and how you were clearly miserable and left before it was even midnight.”

Wesker sighed, clearly not thrilled with Chris’s response, but continued anyway. 

“Do you remember that, even though you were already drunk, you were the first person to greet me?” 

Chris grimaced, remembering vaguely how he had nearly tripped over the coffee table, running up to the captain like a dog that missed his owner. It certainly didn’t help that he was already two shots and a few beers in by nine when Wesker had arrived. 

“Yep, I remember that.”

“And you remember how every time people would start getting loud you would yell at them and check in on me?”

That memory was even fuzzier, but it would definitely explain why everyone kept teasing him and calling him a buzzkill the next day in the office. 

Chris simply nodded back. 

“And this you probably don’t remember either, but before I left, you offered to walk me home just to make sure I was alright, even though you were the one who clearly needed an escort.”

That memory was hazy too, but Chris remembered being alone with Wesker next to the door, catching him by the shoulder before he left, and gentle words shared between the two of them along with an overwhelming feeling of concern. He remembered moving his face far too close to his captain's, the nagging worry that maybe his breath was bad or he was sweaty and not being sure of the last time he showered, and then he remembered almost leaning in before Wesker gently pushed him back and wished him a good night. 

Oh. Now he was starting to get it. 

Chris took a step forward. Wesker’s hand tightened around the gun, but he didn’t move to shoot. 

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?” 

Wesker didn’t respond. 

Taking a deep breath, Chris slowly, gently reached out, placing his hand on top of the gun aimed at him, and began to push Wesker’s arm down. There was resistance for only a moment before the older man complied. When the gun was aimed at the floor, Chris took another step forward and the two were now nearly pressed against each other. His face was far too close to his captain’s. He felt a nagging worry that maybe his breath was bad. Or that he was sweaty and after hours of running around in this godforsaken mansion he definitely needed a shower. But Wesker didn’t move away as he leaned in and Chris decided chances were all of that didn’t matter. 

“So I take it you’re asking for a little bit more than just for me to join you?” Chris asked. 

His superior chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I am.” 

This time, Wesker leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips against Chris’s. Almost on instinct, Chris closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around his former captain’s waist, pulling him closer before pushing deeper into the kiss. He felt the blonde man’s arms wrap around his neck and allowed himself, just for a minute, to forget everything that had occurred, what the man touching him had done. And if he could forget for a minute, he could forget for a little bit longer. Why not join him? 

Finally, he pushed Wesker away, taking a moment to catch his breath, his partner’s arms still wrapped around him. 

“Just what are we getting into?” Chris mumbled. 

“Well, for one, a boatload of money when I sell all the assets I’ve stolen from Umbrella, which will then be used to fuel a quick escape from the country and a life of avoiding the company’s attempts to find us for my betrayal.” 

Chris looked back down at Rebecca. Was he really ready to not only assist the man who shot her and Enrico? The man who currently had Jill trapped in a cell? But then again, what would happen to Jill if he refused? Wesker would make quick work of him and then no one could save her. Chris was certainly drawn in by the deal Wesker was offering, but he also knew he could potentially bargain for more.

“What about Jill? Are you going to kill her too?”

“Not personally, but I am preparing the entire estate to self-destruct. I don’t expect she would survive.” 

Chris’s heart began to race. No, he couldn’t let that happen. 

“Let her out. Let her escape and I’ll go with you, help with whatever you need. I want to join you but I won’t have S.T.A.R.S. blood on my hands. I won’t have Jill’s blood on my hands” 

Wesker’s lips tightened and he gripped his weapon a little tighter. 

“I appreciate your loyal mannerisms Chris but don’t want to leave loose ends.” 

“What could she do? Even if she does survive it would be her word against the entire Umbrella Corporation, and you don’t plan on sticking around anyway, right?”

Wesker pondered this idea for a moment and Chris held his breath, unsure if he had made the right play. 

“Fine.” Wesker finally responded. “If I can trust that your future loyalty lays solely with me I’lll let her go.” 

Chris breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Deal, now what are you going to need from me?”

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I do know you don’t have to worry about being a part of any scientific work I choose to complete in the future, I’m more than capable of handling that by myself.”

Wesker had only just finished his sentence when a near-deafening shatter of glass pulled their attention back to the tank that housed the monster. The abomination had broken through the glass, its talons seeming to have shredded the material with nearly no effort. Chris and Wesker glanced at each other.

“I hope the scientific work you plan on handling includes that fucker too.” Chris groaned as the two pulled out their weapons. 

~~~

Happy Chrisker Week everyone! I hope that you’re looking forward to all the content this celebration will encourage and be sure to seek out other creators participating, many of whom I have interacted with and know are fantastic in their respective domains. Speaking of other creators I want to give a huge thank you to the creators who helped me with this story. Thank you to Ardnaif (AO3 and tumblr), Regnard (AO3), and Tea (theredfields on tumblr) who all looked over this piece, made suggestions, and helped me edit. As a small creator it meant the world to me to get these people’s opinions and I know they helped me grow as a writer. I will post the links to their pages below, make sure to give them a follow! Enjoy Chrisker week and feel free to join in, we can always use another creator!

Ardnaif - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardnaif/pseuds/Ardnaif 

Regnard - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regnard/pseuds/Regnard

Tea - https://theredfields.tumblr.com/