#how the hell did she turn out to be such a vile and terrible creature when her sister and mom are absolutely amazing

[rottingcompost]

the fact that at this point i dont even feel depressed or scared or anxious whenever i get reminded of my abuser and i instead get angry and start thinking and sometimes even saying the most venomous shit about her and wishing death on her. shes not really in my life much at all anymore but it still pisses me off and i still have to see her occassionally and at this point i feel like next time she tries to come to my apartment i wont even let her in and tell her to play in traffic or something.

[chronicparagon]

Still A Prisoner: FF7 Turk!Verse

This headcanon is based on my muse’s FF7 verse. The beginning is the same but this verse differs at the point where Harmony is imprisoned in the laboratory as an experiment. 

The verse can be found here: Link, Dash view is here: Link

---------

Day in and day out...

There was a time when Harmony can’t remember what day it is, or even the time. All that mattered was another “test,” another trial, and another challenge to face for her right to survive. She often wondered if the so-called tests were merely games created by the insane man who bears the pitiful excuse of being a scientist. 

Yes, Professor Hojo put her together after that incident. He replaced what she lost with wires and metal. Her revival was not an act of compassion or to give her another chance at life. No, Hojo had ulterior motives.  it was to create a “super soldier.” One with superior strength and excellent marksmanship. Oh, but this was not the dawn of a new era of hope and striving with another chance at life. It was the beginning of her new life in hell. 

Long hours suffering in her cell and during the brutal fights against captured creatures for scientists stoically recording their findings on the sidelines. The searing pain of sterile blades slicing flesh and needles jabbing into her while strapped to the table at a weakened state from vile concoctions injected into her. 

That terrible, sickening sneer that nasty man had while looming over her writing form, as though the twisted scintists enjoys seeing others suffer. Harmony hated Hojo for that! If only. Oh, if only she could have ended him!

A frown curves her lips as her mind wanders back to that grim phase of her life. Her right eye opens to see the vast city of Midgar brought to life under the night sky outside the vast wall of glass. Her left eye remains covered by an eye patch and long bangs styled over that. Her left hand holds the warm mug. She must be mindful with her gloved right hand for her strength can cause anything to shatter. 

So much have changed since then. The girl barely remembers how long she was an experiment, but recalls when fate took another sharp turn. Her hands lift the mug back to her lips, sipping her coffee. The warm taste of coffee mingling with sweet vanilla cream is something she took for granted. Even the slight bitter aftertaste is something Harmony savors more so now. 

She remembers when fortune was in her favor, at least...To a point.

Rumors of a young woman who became a powerful cyborg crept from the Science Department. Hushed words crept through Shinra’s Electric Company until a man hears about her. A cyborg who survived all odds at the hands of Professor Hojo. That piqued the Vice President’s interest for he always searched for those who can serve him. 

A strong super soldier of flesh, blood, metal, and wires would be almost invincible. He can always use stronger guards. That prompted Rufus Shinra to venture to the Science Department where he demanded to see this experiment. 

One thing led to another. 

Rufus has higher authority and though the scientist was very reluctant, he had no choice but to surrender his test subject.  That was the day when Harmony was taken from her cell, shipped to a private room where she met the one and only Vice President Rufus Shinra who offered her a deal. 

He offered her freedom from the clutches of science, but at a price. 

Harmony remembers sitting in a chair across from Rufus who lounged idly across from her before sliding the contract across the glass top table with a fountain pen. 

He gave her an ultimatum: Sign the contract to join the Turks. Serve him and protect him at all costs. It was that or return to the Science Department, forever forgotten. 

What other choice did Harmony have? 

Now, Harmony stands alone in a lounge room with her coffee. She exchanged rags for the infamous suit. The woman only has some freedom now, but only some.  She turns away from the window and sets the mug on one of the tables not far from the lounge’s kitchenette. A soft sigh escapes her while tugging the cuff of her Turk jacket and the dress shirt under it. Sterling greets her visible eye and lips curl back to see the Shinra logo branded on metal. It’s a mark she had since she first woke up in her cell so long ago. 

Her stomach still turns at the sight. A horrid reminder that she’s not fully human and no longer free. She has some freedom now, but in a way, she’s still a prisoner. Harmony shakes her head as her free hand dips into her jacket’s pocket and takes out a black brace. She clips it around her right wrist and a band of bright blue light lights up along the middle of the bracelet.

 A turn of her black boots, Harmony pushes a button on the brace and a laser bursts to life from the bright band before it expands to a vast wall before her. The towering wall of energy is incredibly heavy, but she lifts the wall up and down with ease. Another push of a button and the force field collapses. 

The bracelet is not only an accessory, but a tool given to her. Obstacle is what it’s called, and it’s as useful as her other weapons. 

“Good. No problems with it.” Harmony mutters to herself before taking the mug from the table. She takes another sip of her coffee before leaving the lounge. As much as she much rather stay, the Turk can’t stay there forever. 

I guess it’s back to the grind... Harmony thought, knowing that despite the change in her life. In a way, she is still a prisoner. 

[astharoshebarvon]

Finally saw wanda vision after two years and wow, she really was trash. I am hoping miss brainwasher remains dead and buried. On one hand we have bucky who is so traumatised by what he did and then we have this horrid woman. Vision deserved better than kid stealer. No wonder those kids were afraid of this supposed “hero” and wanted their actual mother not this creature.

Loki show is so bad, ended up finish seeing it too. Why’d they create something this insulting? They could have just said, we hate Loki so much and are jealous of his fame and popularity that we’ll do everything in our power to demean him. That sif scene still gives me the creeps, Loki owed her nothing. She can go to hell. As for slyvie, that wasnt Loki no matter what people think. The mary sue ofc, cause thats what she was, she is not Loki in any way or form. Her character could be found in any ofc/character story or the homophobic ones where the sub male in MM ship is turned into a vile self insert/ofc.

It’s funny how even most horrid and gross female characters are treated by at least part of fandoms as great, even pedo women. Sorry, if I can sit here and call Sesshoumaru a lowlife, then so should horrid women be called so too if they are that. I guess these are the kind of people who shout in affair, husband is wrong.

No, the woman he is cheating his partner with is just as trashy and gross. It’s kind of scary how much female characters get away with just because they are female.

If what the know it all did to Ron had been done by a male, the boy would have been reviled like anything. The way Fleur was treated by females is horrifying at best and disgusting at worst.

No wonder people scream in slash fiction, dont treat female characters badly when they are outright insulted, killed in fm fiction. Don’t be so tired, just say you hate MM ships and go.

Then we have real weirdos who think their opinion is shared by all fans of that MM ship, they actually claim everyone cares about the vile female character. No, if you want to worship some horrid female character who is literal trash and bring her into the gay ship time and again, where the dom male actually insults his supposed love, the other male for this trash female in fic then thats entirely on you. Dont presume everyone shares your views. Maybe just admit you hate the sub male of that ship and shut up.

And its hilarious as hell those females characters are never mentioned in the homophobic, self insert stories or in fm.

These are the kind of people who would adore, love Caroline Bingley if darcy/elizabeth dynamic was in a MM ship. They would have Darcy like male be with caroline, would insult elizabeth like male and some creeps would say, we love caroline. The double standards are baffling to say the least.

I am so happy this kind of behaviour is actually called out in MM novels, literally no one wants to sit and read about some gross female character in gay erotica where she just creates problems and problems for the couple and is terrible all around.

Whenever I see stuff like this I am reminded of merope gaunt. At this point its not even shocking that people defend this rapist and blame the rape victim for leaving her horrid self.

[oven-thermometer]

Darksiders week Day II

Day 2: Shipping - Any rating (so long as nsfw works are tagged properly!) and any trope, so long as it involves shipping. Please note that a ship does not have to be canon (i.e. presented as a ship in the existing material) to count–in some other reality, they could have loved each other. Also, I hear human survivors have been reported by the Hellguard, so feel free to bring your OCs as well!

This is my first time writing anything with an OC, I'm happy it was Aurora because I love her so much. Also I know it's day 3 today but I didn't get to post yesterday and my work gave me the day off??? For some reason?? So I get to post today :>

What Aurora looks like and her different forms It helps to just check this post out to make the story easier to read

Warnings: blood, fighting, angst, lying, description of bad wounds, animal harm (by demons) and death.

The large golden doors swung open violently, slamming into the adjacent walls. Darkness in the hallway was chased away by the piercing light from Hell’s eternal fires raging across it’s plains. Taking her hands off from the doors, her hung head lifted up slowly. Her eyes caught the large throne situated at the end of the hallway, it’s impending presence making her swallow the invisible lump in her throat. ‘At least he’s not here.’ She thought, making her way down the dimly lit hallway, the candles burning to life as she walked past.

“Aurora.” her name was called in a monotone voice. Turning her head, she located the voice at one of the side doors next to the throne. Emerging from said door, was her mother. The woman that constructed her and made her into what she was today. She held neither malice nor love towards her. She had been made into a monster but she never knew the proper way to be treated by someone you were made by so she really had no point of reference. Coming out of her musings she walked further towards the woman. “Lilith.” she said, nodding her head in greeting.

Lilith sauntered closer, stopping in front of the taller creature. Aurora shifted her legs, waiting for her to speak. Lilith hummed and narrowed her eyes before quickly turning around. “You have a new mission. This one pertains quite importantly to the grand plan Samael and I have,” turning half her body to look over her shoulder she made clear eye contact with Aurora, “success is the only outcome that will be accepted. Are we clear?”

Lilith punctuated her last words by closing her fists, reminding Aurora of he last time she hobbled back into Samael’s castle with defeat written all over her wounded body. Shuddering slightly at the thought, she nodded. Lilith turned fully towards the throne again and stepped towards it. Picking up a small scroll of decaying paper from the stone and opening it, she spoke again, “You are to travel to Earth.”

Aurora looked up, her long ears perking up at the name, “Earth? Why there?”

Lilith slid her tail along the floor, signifying her annoyance at the question. Aurora looked back down and mumbled an apology. Lilith drew her shoulders back and closed the scroll once again, “The apocalypse will soon be triggered, Earth will become the battleground for monumental forces. You will travel there and, using your human-form, you will find the horseman that will be sent to find the cause of the trigger.”

Aurora shifted on her legs again, she hated being in her human form. It meant she had to lie. She could deal with the killing and the war but lying and infiltrating made her stomach turn. Deceit was what came with that form.

Pushing her feelings down, she held one of her hands out for the scroll Lilith was holding. Lilith left it in her outstretched hand, making her way back to the side door before adding, “You must seduce him Aurora. You’ve done this kind of thing before and I have complete faith you won’t disappoint me.”

Aurora nodded again, her eyes scanning the contents of the page for more details. “Oh and Aurora, bring him to that location before the third torch atop of this castle is blown out by the dry winds.”

Blood curdling screams replaced the quiet alleyways with sheer terror. Stepping out of the void portal Aurora took cautious steps further out of the alleyway – more screams making her turn her head towards the impeding invasion of demons from a large tear in the Earth. Large orange lava spewed from the enormous crack as demons screeched and hollered from rooftops and street lamps.

Aurora sneered from her place in the alleyway, she may be part demon but this was never who she was. Innocent humans were being torn apart right in front of her and all she could do was look on for the being she was meant to trick into her plans. She had never met any of the Nephelim, even before their demise due to four of their own. Everyone knew the story, even her. She felt sorry for the remaining four, they had been forced to murder their entire family and proceeded to work for the very beasts who bargained with their lives. Lilith also spoke of them often, cursing the four mostly. That was why Aurora was made, so that one day the spawn of angel and demon might continue.

Shaking her head, she returned to her search. Spotting another large tear and a large trail of fire and smoke further into the streets of the city she identified the crash site of the warrior. She swiftly brushed off her clothes, stopping midway as she realized she had to look dirty and beaten for him to take pity on her. Sighing, she threw her head back in sarcastic amusement.

Aurora had made her way from the alleyway towards a building used as a parking lot across the road. Smears of blood and bodily fluid littered the floor, the faint noise of muffled grunts off to one corner caught her attention. A man, a human, was being pinned to the wall as a pack of small demons overpowered him and took their opportunity to rip the scared features from his face. As the life left his eyes and his last whine of pain escaped, his head lolled forwards. Stopping in her tracks, Aurora’s face held no emotion. Seeing this as her opportunity to gain the injuries she required, she started attracting the group over from their feast. She stomped her feet and shouted at them to gain their attention. “Hey you stupid mongrels,” she put her hands on her hips and gave a low whistle, “how’s the invasion going dimwits?”

The mindless demons quirked their heads at her - they could smell that she wasn’t human, but she didn’t look supernatural. Snapping out of their daze, as if acting with a hive mind, they snarled and charged violently forwards towards her. Aurora lifted her forearms to act as guards, awaiting the attack.

Her breath felt like it was made of lead. Her arms and legs covered in bruises, welts and scratches. The vicious pain of her combined wounds made her head dizzy as she leaned against one of the concrete walls. Slouching forward she slid down slowly to sit down on the cold floor. Her mind was blank. Only focusing on keeping her healing magic at bay so as not to erase the work the now squashed demons did. As soon as she was content with how much damage they did, Aurora began her offense. Making quick work of them, she needed a moment before venturing out of the building again. She wiped the blood pooling on her chin, the viscous material flowing freely from her nose and mouth due to broken cartilage and cracked teeth.

A small scratching noise caught her attention, lifting her head she looked towards the cars sitting in their lots. It was coming from there, she was sure. It only got louder, a pitiful whining shortly accompanying it. Was it…another human? The demons would’ve killed them before though, or were they sparing them to witness the torture? If it was a person she would need to make sure they won’t get out of this alive: they could’ve seen her use her powers after all.

She stalked closer to the collection of crashed and parked cars, broken glass and more blood breaking beneath her boots. The whining and scratching continued to increase in volume, making her cock her head to the side in confusion. A thin tarp laden with dust and dirt covered the small opening between two cars that had evidently been in a bad crash. Aurora could now also hear deep and scratchy breathing – similar to her own. The whining seemed one akin to an animal, this only deepened her confusion. Lifting the tarp she readied an attack spell in her flesh hand, but what met her eyes gave her pause. A large, white hound met her vision. It’s thick fur stained with it’s own blood. It was slightly smaller than the Hell Hounds that she was used to. Awkwardly shifting again, she pulled more of the material away and threw it behind her. The dog’s labored breathing and flowing wounds made her heart ache – humans had minds, and some of them were vile beings. But, animals and beasts with no sentient choices only wanted peace. They never deserved whatever terrible treatment they got – quickly realizing Aurora made her think of her own situation, she shook her head and lowered herself to her knees. Banishing the attack spell she replaced it with her healing magic.

As she healed the creature she thought to herself, ‘Was that man your owner?’ She didn’t dwell on that thought either.

It’s breathing improved and it’s gashes closed, but it remained unconscious out of exhaustion after her magic had stopped. Sighing, Aurora questioned why she even did this. It was going to get found again. It may be almost as big as a Hell Hound, but it clearly couldn’t fight as well.

Again, another noise drew her attention away from the situation. A large crash near the entrance to the building made her quickly clamber to her feet. ‘More demons??’ she thought, exasperated. But, it was no demon. In fact, it was the one being she needed on this hellish mission.

War’s voice boomed, calling after the pathetic demons that had run from their battle. “Scum!” he shouted, “I saw you running in here with your tail between your legs, come out for a merciful decimation!” ‘Geez, he isn’t one for pleasantries, huh?’ Aurora thought to herself. Swiftly slipping into her role, she began limping her way away from the cars – although the limp wasn’t fake.

Accidentally tripping on a large piece of fallen concrete, her hands automatically came up to cushion her fall. Her metal limb creating a sharp noise against the floor caused her to cringe.

Stopping his intimidating rant, War looked over to the small human. His stony features showed no shock or confusion of any kind. Not any emotion at all. Aurora gave a small grunt, quickly getting to her knees before her eyes landed on the impressive height of War. Scrambling backwards, her face showed a feeling of utter fear. Her mouth hung open as she raised an arm in mock defense, her bionic arm. War’s eyes flashed a light of pity before turning back to their normal cloudy blue. “P-Please..Don’t - hurt me.” Aurora kept her widened eyes on him, showing nothing but the want to live another minute.

War turned fully to her form, acknowledging her wounds, her tired eyes and how she didn’t even seem to have the strength to stand. Forgetting the beasts he was chasing, he wracked his brain for what to do. He had a mission, a purpose – but this, thing, looked so helpless and in desperate need of help. Walking the short distance towards her, he took a healing potion out of his supply belt and set it down in front of her. “Use it.” Is all he said before leaving the building, and Aurora. Rearing her head back in confusion, she lowered her arm and tsked in annoyance. Grabbing the large container of green liquid, she ran as fast as her bleeding legs could take her after the Nephilim. He wasn’t going particularly fast, his normal walking pace, but to Aurora’s state it was difficult to catch up with.

“Wait!” she called out after him. War stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder. Huffing, Aurora got closer and looked up to him, “Are you just gonna leave me here?!”

It was War’s turn to be confused, not visibly though, “Excuse me?” Motioning to her wounds as she spoke, Aurora replied, “Well I am arguably not in the best of states and seeing as you obviously don’t want to kill me, could you at least escort me to a safe place?”

Aurora’s heartbeat roared in her ears, she couldn’t believe she was talking this way to a Horseman. But she needed some way of being near him. War grunted, turning his head back to look onward, “Move quickly, I will take you to the angels.”

Smiling to herself, Aurora followed closely behind as he made his way towards a horde of angels a few blocks away.

[dreamlover31]

Broken Promises

Hello my dearies, thank you for all of your comments and support throughout this comeback of mine lol

And now here's the third and final installment of my mini drama...my apologies since this took me a while to post this

Tagging: @madpanda75 @dreila03 @laceybellerain @melsquared79 @southern-magnolia @glimmerglittergirl @xemopeachx @misssirenlove @tropes-and-tales @thatesqcrush @sweetsummertime99 @imjustreallynosy @amirightcounselor @rampantmuses​ @youreverycolor​

Two pink lines...what should have been caused for great joy, instead has brought upon nothing but anguish and despair. After the incident at the apartment, you had packed up your belongings and moved into your sister’s place in Soho; leaving behind the man who had all but decimated your heart. Though the time was brief, being held hostage by your fiance’s mistress was a real wake up call, the wool that had been pulled over your eyes that day; and it revealed a very ugly truth, that Rafael Barba was nothing more than a vile creature who had taken your love for granted and threw it back in your face, however, when you revealed the pregnancy it was merely a ploy to get Sophie to drop her guard so that he could take the opportunity to take her out of the equation.

A few days after the incident, you had started feeling nauseous and had some weird cravings for pickles and garlic knots, and that was when the gears turned in your head; so one day when your sister was at work, you trekked down to the bodega down the street from her apartment where you had purchased 3 different types of pregnancy tests. Upon your return, you anxiously awaited the results as you sat on the edge of the tub, after a few minutes, you peered down at the stick and your heart dropped.

Later that day, your sister Rebecca returned home from work where she found you on the couch curled up in a blanket; eyes shrink wrapped in tears. She set her things on the coffee table and wrapped an arm around you, she rubbed your shoulder soothingly until your tears had subsided and that was when you revealed the reason for your distress.

Meanwhile, Rafael painstakingly went about his life, despite protests from Liv and the others, in his mind it made sense to keep himself busy, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality that he had lost the love of his life...and her confession of becoming an expectant mother. After the Sophie fiasco, Rafael was desperately trying to contact Charlotte, he had lost track of the many phone calls and text messages he sent her; although he couldn’t blame her...he had violated her trust in an unforgivable manner and as much as he wanted to just make everything that happened disappear, there was no way that he could reclaim the life he once had.

Rafael was sitting in his office reviewing one of his case files when his phone beeped, his emerald irises widened when he saw the message… it was the last person he expected to hear from...Charlotte.

We need to talk...meet me at the coffee shop down the street from my OB’s office

Alright...I’m on my way

Charlotte scheduled an appointment with her doctor once she had time to collect her thoughts, as she was sitting on top of the examination table, her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with Rebecca the night before...as hard as it would be, if it turned out that she was indeed pregnant, she would have to notify Rafael. At that moment, her doctor entered the room with the test results in hand, with a soft smile, she confirmed what Charlotte already knew and now it was time to have an unpleasant conversation with the man who betrayed her; as she exited the building, Charlotte texted Rafael and began making her way to the coffee shop. The front door chimed as Rafael stepped inside the establishment, his eyes scanned the enclosure for Charlotte until he saw her in the back corner, slowly, he padded towards the table where she had a coffee already waiting for him. They barely looked at one another as the world around them continued to function in its normal capacity, the tension surrounding them was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Charlotte lightly tapped her fingers on the container housing her chamomile tea as she thought of the best way to approach the subject...finally, it was Rafael who ultimately broke the awkward silence.

“I would ask how you are doing but…”

“Then don’t” Charlotte snapped all the while maintaining her composure without breaking down into tears again, she breathed through her nose and exhaled a deep breath then blurted out:

“It’s official...I’m pregnant and your the father”

Rafael blinked as he took a moment to process the huge bombshell that was just dropped on him, although he had his suspicions, receiving actual confirmation made everything all the more real. While his first instincts were to reach out and hold Charlotte’s hand and comfort her, he knew that she would rebuff his advances, with a heavy sigh, he continued:

“Charlotte...I know there’s nothing I can say or do to make up for everything that has happened, but I just want you to know that whatever you decide...I will respect your wishes”

Charlotte replied, "Well look at you...the great Rafael Barba playing the martyr"

The venom in her voice caused Rafael to inwardly cringe while on the outside his face took on a wounded appearance.

Charlotte sighed, "I'm sorry Rafael...that was unfair of me"

"It was well deserved believe me"

She looked out the window for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts while Rafael looked on, carefully gauging her mood. Finally, she spoke:

“Look...I don’t know where we go from here...all I know is that I do want you to be a part of our child’s life and we’ll figure it out as we go along with regards to visitation and support”

Her words were like a dagger to Rafael’s heart, granted that she was willing to let him see their child, a part of him hoped that she would consider the possibility of raising their little bundle of joy together; and yet the more realistic side of him understood that once a trust has been breached, it could take a long time to rebuild or worst case scenario, one can never regain that trust. He frowned but nodded his head in agreement, upon exiting the coffee shop, they both decided that Charlotte would update Rafael on the baby’s development and went their separate ways.

6 months later…

Charlotte stares idly at the monitor as the doctor ran the ultrasound wand along her abdomen, waiting to catch a glimpse of the tiny life growing inside her, today was the day that she would find out the gender of her baby. The doctor adjusted the image on the screen to where a little grey jelly bean came into view, as she pointed out how the baby was developing on schedule, Charlotte became overwhelmed with emotion; tears began to prick in her eyes as she sniffled. 

“Charlotte..are you ready to know what you are having”

“Yes, please”

The doctor clicked a few more buttons and a more clearer picture came into focus

“Congratulations Charlotte...you’re having a healthy baby girl”

The floodgates opened as tears streamed down her face, the amount of joy and love that she felt for the tiny human being inside her was astounding; at that point the doctor excused herself so she could print out the ultrasound pictures. During this moment of solitude, Charlotte’s happiness was quickly foreshadowed by the fact that this beautiful child was created out of the love that she once shared with Rafael, the man that she was set to wed before it was revealed that he had been unfaithful to her but as much as she wanted to hate him for the rest of her life...there was a part of her that still loved him and missed him very much. She quickly wiped her eyes as the doctor re-entered the room, she was handed the ultrasound pictures before gathering her belongings and leaving the examination room. She was then escorted down the hall to the reception desk, as she was finishing up with the receptionist, a familiar figure was sitting patiently in the waiting room. Upon entering, Charlotte was greeted with a smiling tall, sandy haired gentleman.

“You ready to go Charlotte”

“Ready when you are Sonny”

Sonny smiled as the two of them made their way out of the building, he helped her into his car that was parked along the sidewalk and as soon as he was in the driver’s seat; he started the ignition and drove off. A few months prior, Sonny had ran into you while grocery shopping at the local market, the two of you exchanged pleasantries and even agreed to meet up for lunch later on that week and ever since then, Sonny was like a Godsend. Whenever you were feeling overwhelmed or you just needed someone to talk to, he would always be there. He even invited you over to his place a couple of times where he would share with you the many culinary delights from mama Carisi and cuddle up on the couch and binge watched on various movies involving tragic romances. Sonny meandered down the streets of downtown Manhattan while Charlotte looked out the passenger window watching the buildings pass by, her mind a jumbled mess with everything that has happened, she finds herself in one hell of a moral dilemma. It was almost as if Sonny could read her mind because when they came to traffic light, he looked over to her and asked:

“Is everything ok?”

With a heavy sigh, Charlotte replied, “I don’t know Sonny...how can you miss someone who dismantled everything you once knew to be true...who you gave your heart and soul to, only to have it torn apart…”

He frowned as he put the car in gear and continued driving towards her apartment, “I know what Barba did was inexcusable…but I’ve seen him in the office and he puts up a good front but deep down I know he misses you terribly and would give his soul to be with you again”

Charlotte smiled softly, knowing that Rafael still cared for her brought some comfort, but the underlying question was that if she reunited with Rafael...how does she know that she can trust him again. The car came to a stop outside her apartment building, and they began their ascent up the elevator then as they reached her floor, they strolled down the hall towards her door; Charlotte settled down on the couch while Carisi prepared dinner. The aroma of cooked pasta and oregano filled the room, after chowing down on their exquisite feast, Charlotte and Carisi planted themselves on the couch and browsed through Netflix until they decided on a romantic comedy with Jude Law and Julia Roberts. 

They were well into the movie when there was a knock at the door, Sonny got up and looked through the peephole and then opened the door a crack where in his line of sight he was welcomed by  his colleague in a three piece suit; the well rounded and sassy ADA known as Rafael Barba. The two men nodded at one another upon entry, Charlotte carefully sat up and stood in the middle of the living room, there was a moment of awkward silence before Sonny spoke:

“Well I’m going to run down to the store real quick, we ran out of milk”

And with that, Sonny grabbed his coat and left, Rafael and Charlotte looked at each other with weariness in each other’s eyes, not knowing what to say or do. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Rafael broke the ice:

“How are you feeling?”

“For the most part, I feel tired and gross”

Rafael snorted, “If you don’t mind me saying...I think you are still the most beautiful woman to ever walk this Earth”

Charlotte blushed at his words, she forgot that he could be pretty charming when he wanted to be, she fiddled with her fingers as she sat back down on the couch. Rafael soon joined her but kept his distance.

“Listen...the reason I came over was to tell you that I’m happy for you and Carisi”

Charlotte furrowed her brows, “Excuse me”

“He’s a good man...and I know that he’ll take care of you the way you deserve to be...and I think we can make this whole co-parenting situation work as long as there is an open communication with one another”

Charlotte grinned and began giggling, at the same time, Rafael looked on with puzzlement.

“Did I miss something?”

Once she sobered up, she replied, “Rafael...I’m not dating Sonny, we’re just friends”

“But everyone at the precinct has been saying how close you both have gotten and that it was only a matter of time before…”

“Look Rafael...these last six months have been hard and as much as I want to hate you with every fiber of my being, I’ve come to realize that I still love you and I miss you so much”

Rafael gazed upon Charlotte’s face, slowly he brought up his hand and cradled her face, his thumb caressed her cheek as she leaned into his touch. He pulled himself closer to her until their faces were inches apart, he gave her a hesitant kiss on her lips but from there it gained momentum. All those months apart, the longing and need spilled out into the fiery, passionate kisses but then they reluctantly broke the kiss in need for air; their eyes connected for a brief moment until Rafael spoke again:

“I love you Charlotte...and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you...if you’ll have me”

Charlotte desperately wanted to believe him, and while she was unsure as to what the future held for them, all she knew was that she couldn't imagine a life without Rafael in it.

“We have some work to do, but I am willing to give us another try”

[emachinescat]

Night and Morning with My Tears

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat ​

@febuwhump ​ day 20 - betrayal

Summary: Takes place when Merlin is Morgana’s prisoner in "A Servant of Two Masters.”  When Morgana looks into Merlin’s eyes, what she sees there surprises and angers her in equal measure.  Merlin has no right to act betrayed, not when his betrayal was so much worse.

Characters: Morgana, Merlin

Words: 1,756

TW: None

Notes: Takes place during “A Master of Two Servants,” with flashbacks to “The Fires of Idirsholas,” so there will be spoilers for both of those episodes!

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

- From “A Poison Tree” by William Blake

And I watered it in fears.

Night and morning with my tears:

And I sunned it with smiles.

And with soft deceitful wiles.

Morgana Pendragon stands before her prisoner, eyes cold and green like the deep forest.  Despite her anger at her men for failing so miserably in their task, she cannot say that she is displeased to see Merlin again.  Although the servant’s mere presence incites a furnace of rage within her, he could prove very useful in her plans to kill Arthur – and if she is able to play with him in the process, make him pay for what he did to her sister, then all the better.

Merlin hangs, unconscious, from his wrists.  He is too tall for the stooping ceiling of her hovel, so his legs fold awkwardly beneath him.  His chin rests against his chest, and he sports a nasty wound on one shoulder.  She will probably end up healing it eventually, as infection is beginning to set in.  She needs Merlin healthy for her plans for him.  Still, she supposes she can let him suffer a bit before she takes on the task of cleaning the wound.  Any amount of pain he endures will be nothing compared to what he has inflicted upon her, time and time again.

When she throws a cold bucket of water into his face, he wakes, coughing, and gasping; she smirks.  When he regains his bearings and locks eyes with her, any satisfaction or pleasure she receives from his struggles melts away like candle wax under a flame.  It has been a long time since she has looked into those very blue eyes from mere feet away, and what she finds in them is unsettling and unexpected – they are familiar, but foreign, and they stir up memories that she prefers to keep hidden, even from herself.

Stolen glances, conspiring winks, soft smiles.  Fighting bandits in Ealdor, not out of duty, not for Camelot, but out of loyalty, for a friend.  Defeating a clay monster, teasing Arthur, smuggling Mordred out of the citadel.  This is a part of her life so disconnected from herself that she has all but convinced herself that it happened to someone else.  

But a chilly fierceness has descended over his eyes like a veil, and it is as if she is looking at an entirely different person all together.  Long ago, back before Morgana knew of her powers and heritage, when she was young and naive and living a life of luxury, Merlin had never failed to have a smile on his face.  He spoke softly and kindly, and Morgana had loved the compassion for others she could sense in his gaze.  That innocence has vanished, leaving him suspicious, cruel, and hard.  

There is one emotion that Morgana detects in those blue eyes that causes a righteous fury to swell inside her like a summer tempest, tints her vision red and sends her hurtling back into her past, to the worst moment of her entire life, and she has to restrain herself from ending Merlin’s miserable existence then and there.  Pace yourself, Morgana.  You have use for him yet.

But it is a hard battle.  Indignation seizes her heart and squeezes.  How dare Merlin have the audacity to look betrayed when he looks back at her?  How dare he act as if she is in the wrong, as if she is the one who has turned against her friends?  Morgana has no friends, not anymore.  She has no family.  And she has Merlin to thank for that.

He has no right to act like she is betraying him by capturing him, holding him as her prisoner in the hovel he might as well have picked out for her.  Morgana is the only one who has the right to feel betrayed – what she has planned for Merlin is nothing, nothing, compared to what he did to her.

***

Dying is strange, if you think about it.  It is the one thing, other than being born, that unites all of humanity, all creatures.  Two people may live out lives on opposite ends of the map, may never meet one another; one may be a king, the other a slave, one a scholar, the other a simpleton.  And yet, someday, they both will die.  Death unites us all, even as it tears us apart.  The funny thing is, although everyone is plodding forward to the same destiny, only those who have walked the path to completion know what it is like.  Death is the great equalizer, but no one who meets it can divulge its secret.  It is at once the most common experience of mankind and its greatest secret.

Morgana came closer to discovering that secret than most people who have played the delicate strings of life and death when she was poisoned by a man she called her friend.  Even now, when she recalls that moment when she realized that something was wrong – I can’t breathe, oh gods – her blood drains from her body and fear replaces it, cold and numbing and terrible.  She remembers with complete clarity the feel of her throat swelling, can hear the rasp of her breath and see her vision becoming a vignette, dark around the edges, closing in, prowling ever closer.

Dying was bad enough.  Dying of poison, feeling her body shut down, attack itself, turn on her, was hell.  By far the worst part of Morgana’s death, however, was the moment she realized who was responsible.  Her entire world came crashing down when her eyes, bulging from the panicked strain of trying to pull in breath where none existed, traveled from the discarded water-skin to the servant she called her friend.  If she had doubted his involvement before, it was confirmed with the expression on his face.  He reeked of regret and guilt; shame radiated off of him and contaminated the air around them.  

Merlin had poisoned her.  Merlin, the clumsy, goofy, kind-hearted, loyal servant of the prince, the man she had risked her life for more than once, who had treated her like a person instead of royalty, who had been her friend when she felt alone and afraid as her powers blossomed – Merlin was killing her.  It was like she had been stabbed in the heart, that realization, and for a brief moment that could have been the rest of her life, that knowledge that she was dying at the hand of her friend hurt far more than her closing airway, than her lungs starved for air, than the pain and the fear and the darkness of death swooping ever closer.

She backed away, her limbs clumsy; they no longer belonged to her, only the living had use of them.  Through pain-hazed vision, she watched as Merlin walked over, sat near her, saw his lips move without hearing his words, and then he was gathering her into his arms, holding her close, and she tried to fight, tried to call out, tried to escape, but – she was helpless.

He sat with her, held her, rocked her like she was a child, and she felt his face against the top of her head, felt warm tears hit her scalp, and she couldn’t breathe, her ears rang like tinny chimes and her vision flickered, her hands and feet tingled like she’d been sitting on them all day, and her chest wouldn’t move.

Oh gods.  

The feel of his touch made her want to scream, burning vile fingerprints into her skin.  She heard a terrible noise, a choking, garbled sound, and realized it was her.  She tried to squirm away from him, from this disgusting facsimile of comfort, partially wondering what his game was, why he was acting like he cared about her, what he could possibly gain by holding her as she died of a poison he had administered.  The other part of her knew that it didn’t matter, and resigned itself to the fact that the last touch she was going to feel before she died was that of the man who had killed her.

Her last few seconds of consciousness were comprised of pure terror; she floated in that empty space between life and death, felt everything and nothing, and was consumed by her fear and the overwhelming, blood-freezing understanding that she didn’t want to die.  She had done nothing to deserve this; she had only been his friend.  It didn’t matter that she didn’t wish for death, that she had plans for her life, that she could have made a difference, that she had a sister she was just getting to know and that she could do so much more.  All control had been stripped away, any choice and free will had been stolen in an act of violence and betrayal that she simply could not understand.

Right before she gave in to the pain and the cold and the dark, she realized that she hated Merlin.

When she awoke, sometime later, to Morgause’s concerned brown eyes, not knowing how she could be alive but grateful nonetheless, that feeling of hatred hadn’t dimmed.  In fact, it had grown, and it continued to fester, burrowing deep into her soul like a cherished tumor, one that she fed and nurtured, loved and despised in equal measure.

And she waited, knowing that a time would come to repay Merlin for the terrible sins he had committed against her, for taking the trust she had in him and crushing it beneath his ratty servant’s boot.  

***

No, Merlin does not deserve to feel betrayed, to look at her through eyes tinted with hurt.  He has no right to speak of loyalty, or friends.  He pretends at being loyal to Arthur, but Morgana has seen his heart, has felt the rot inside of his soul, and knows that it is only a matter of time before he betrays his beloved king as well.  Merlin is no mere servant – he is a hollow man, filled only with cruelty and hate, and sooner or later, he will destroy everything he loves.

Morgana is only helping that process along with the Fomorroh.  She relishes the look of betrayal melting into fear.  His wide eyes and hitched breath whisper comfort to her innermost hurts.

And when he screams, she smiles.

[drwnng-ophelia]

Caught Between the Two of You | Richie Tozier x Female Reader / Pennywise x Female Reader

A/N: Listen, I’m definitely going to hell for all of this. This is the oddest love triangle I’ve ever written, but I just couldn’t overlook Bill Skarsgård. Next chapter will be exclusively Richie smut, because Bill Hader. (maybe I should add that there’s no clown sex here)

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Female Reader, Pennywise/Female Reader

Summary: You own the Derry Town House and are caught off guard by a group of friends who check-in. You get closer than anticipated with one of them.

Warnings: explicit language, smut, unprotected sex

Word Count: 3,617

Find chapter one here if you want to refresh your memory or haven’t read it already...

   Chapter 2

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over you. It’s something worse than a serial killer, something evil. You should have known then, should have guessed that he was referring to this eons-old entity. This was what they were afraid of. Pennywise, who had been a part of your life for almost as long as you could remember. There had been a time when you had been vulnerable, when he had looked after you, had cared for you.

When you were only just a little girl, Pennywise had been awoken by you. His sleep had only lasted a few years when you had set something in motion that had shaken the very ground of Derry. Something strong enough to awaken a creature that was hungry for children’s tender flesh.

Pennywise had been the one to find you. Drool had been dripping from his crimson lips when he saw you, sitting amidst the bodies—those small fragile bodies, bones contorted, blood dripping from eyes, noses, mouths. It had been terrible. A nightmare come true.

That day, those bullying children had died because of you. Because of a power that had slumbered inside of you. A power that had only decided to stir when you had been in dire need of help. Children had always been able to tell that there was something different about you, something off. Adults had never seemed to notice, they only ever saw the sweet innocent child of a well-established, happy couple.

When you had just started kindergarten, your mother fell sick to a mysterious illness. Once she had succumbed to it, you had felt a strange sensation wash over you like a ruthless wave. But you could only tread water for so long until you sunk, dragged deeper and deeper by a forceful undertow. A power you still hadn’t fully understood.

Pennywise could have eaten you that day—maybe he should have eaten you that day—but he had been delighted by this little creature that had been cursed with something he found too fascinating to demolish.

Ever since that day, he had stayed with you. Hidden in shadows, under your bed, following you silently; the clown had always been there. With him, you had learned to subdue whatever it was that existed inside you. Over time, he had taught you how to turn that burning wildfire into a small, manageable ember. The blood on your own hands had always kept you from urging him to find another sustenance than human flesh. No one could guess that for you, to ease your conscience, he chose his prey wisely: the children that had gone missing had been terminally ill, the adults were molesters, murderers or other vile creatures.

After all these years, after all that had happened, you were bound to one another in ways neither of you dared to question. Mutual respect and fascination had kept you both alive and one fateful night, you had been bold enough to ask him what he looked like underneath that costume. Everything had changed once you had seen his preferred human form, had seen the beautiful man that still stood before you now. A man, you had grown to desire more than anything else. Or so you thought.

“Why have you waited until now to ask them to come back to you?” you asked, honestly curious. Pennywise shrugged, the movement easy and elegant. “I wanted them to believe that they had defeated me.”

They had been children. They had fought him when they were nothing but children. Pennywise had chosen this moment specifically to call them back home. He wanted to play with them, play with them like a feral cat with its prey. Just because he had nothing better to do.

“What do you want with him—with them?” You needed to hear it, no matter how much it horrified you.

His mouth curled up in a demonic grin and he slipped his hands into his pockets, sauntering towards you with lethal grace. “Would you mind if I kill him? If I eat him? Slowly?”

Your mouth went dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. This was not just a question. It was a promise and a warning all at once.

Maybe it was time to put another player on the field. Even if it was just to keep a group of strangers from giving their life for something that was beyond their control. This was no longer their weight to carry—it had become yours. And you would gladly carry it.

“I want you to spare him, to spare them all.” You willed yourself not to break his stare.

“Not after what he just did to you,” Pennywise stated matter-of-factly, his eyes wandering over you slowly, territorially. “Why? How did that make you feel?” He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a ghost of a touch.   A lover’s touch. It felt as if your heart would jump out of your chest as you waited for him to say something. “Seeing you with him…” Pennywise paused and sucked on his teeth. “You can have anyone but him.”

You scoffed and swatted his hand away decidedly. “See, you’re lying. I can’t have anyone, now can I?” For a split second, his eyes turned yellow, revealing just how furious he was.

In all those years, he had never touched you. It was as if your feelings for him went unheeded, bouncing off an adamant wall. As you had gotten older, you had taken a string of lovers that had never been able to truly fill that void inside of you—until tonight. Richie had sparked a desire inside of you that had been similar to the need you felt for Pennywise.

Oh, the irony of it.

“Don’t test me, my sweet girl,” he hissed. With the ferocity of a snake, his fingers curled around your throat. “Then tell me what you came here for… Tell me it’s me,” you demanded, enjoying this rough handling a little too much. His grip loosened and you grinned triumphantly. Just because he had never given in to your temptation didn’t mean that he was unaffected by it.

“The way I see it I could just ask them all to leave. Maybe I will leave with them. You’re bound to this place. I’m not. Don’t ever forget that,” you reminded him. “Kill Richie Tozier or any of his friends and I will leave you. I dare you.”

Eyes turned yellow again and he pushed you up against the wall, the force of it knocking down a mirror which shattered on the floor. “Do you want to know what they’re talking about? What he is talking about? They want to kill me.” Pennywise leaned in, close enough to share breath. “Would you want me to die, [Y/N]?”

“Would you want me to leave?” you countered. His full lips pressed into a hard line. “Give me a reason to stay. Give me a reason to let that man leave by himself, while I stay here. With you. After all, it was you who called these people here. This might be your game, Pennywise, but you’re not playing it alone anymore. I’m right there with you, with all of you. And I think I’ve chosen my alliance. Enough innocent lives have ended because of us.”

His nostrils flared delicately. Rage, he was consumed by pure rage, those yellow eyes burning straight through you. “Remember what I’m capable of.” Remember the Deadlights.

“Remember that it was I who awoke you. I’m not that helpless child anymore, Pennywise. I’m not without my own weapons and I’m not scared of you.” He licked his lips and for a second you thought he might finally kiss you. Instead, his lips moved to your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he whispered, “Sometimes I think I may have taught you too well. This is only just the beginning. Let’s play.”

Just when you pulled in a breath to retort something, he disappeared, leaving you behind.

Pennywise hadn’t just left you because he wanted to leave you when you craved him most—he had left because someone had heard the shattering mirror. Richie was knocking on the door furiously, calling your name. You took a deep, steadying breath before letting him in.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes scanning the surroundings frantically. Nothing in your home would suggest that you were connected to Pennywise in any way. No one had ever seen you two together, not even in his human form. He had always made sure of that.

“I’m clumsy that’s all,” you assured him, “I knocked a mirror off the wall.” You made a mental note to keep the windows closed in the future, even if you knew that it was Pennywise who had assured that Richie would hear noises from your home. He wanted him to come over here so he could keep a close eye on you both.

“I take it that you’re checking out of your room after all?” Richie followed your gaze to the duffle bag in his hand. “If you would have me?” he asked, a sweet smile on his lips that melted Pennywise’s phantom touch away immediately. Instead of answering his question, you just kissed him. “Thank goodness, because I really didn’t want to pay for those ridiculous room rates.” He sighed with exaggerated relief.

“Who says you don’t have to pay for staying here?” you asked with an arched eyebrow. “Something tells me you’re not referring to money.” His throat bobbed and the bag fell to the ground with a soft thud. “Clever boy. I hope you’re not too tired yet.”

When you had lead Richie into your bedroom, you realized that the mirror was intact and hanging in its usual spot again. Your opponent was still here, hiding somewhere, too curious and too controlling to leave you be.

“How about you settle in while I freshen up real quick?” you suggested. It was time to tell this clown that he needed to leave for the night—your house was not big enough for this.

You sat on the edge of the tub, eyes staring into nothingness. “You need to get out. Now. I’m busy tonight.”

Unexpectedly, you could feel rising steam warm your back as if the tub was filled with another hot bath. Frowning, you looked over your shoulder, only to find a lovely specimen of man lying in your bathtub. Stark naked, not an inch of his delicious body obscured.

“Something tells me you want me to stay,” Pennywise purred and rested his hand on your thigh, the thin fabric of your dress soaking through immediately. “Don’t touch me. You had your chance earlier. Get out.” Determined, you rose—enjoying the view as you looked down on him. Wet hair hanging into his face, damp skin making his cheekbones appear razor-sharp, a body shaped to perfection. Every part of it.

“What part of ‘get out’ didn’t you understand, Pennywise?” you checked and pulled the stopper. Maybe your lust for him would wash down the drain, along with the water.

A muscle in his jaw feathered and he sat up, looking at you with a pout. “Your body betrays you.” There was no need for him to point that out, so you just gave him a look of annoyance.

“Yes, but someone else will take care of my needs tonight. Just imagining what Richie Tozier could do to me now that we have all night together turns me on more than you ever have,” you teased and a realization hit you. Pennywise had never seen you naked.

“Let’s play, old friend.” You bit your lip and shrugged off the cardigan. The eons-old creature blinked slowly, not entirely sure what he was about to witness. Why hadn’t you thought about this before?

“I think…I think I want him to caress my breasts first. I want him to take his sweet time, to graze my nipples with his teeth. I want him to mark my body with bites and bruises.” You pushed down the straps of your dress and let it fall to the floor, the fabric pooling around your ankles. Pennywise swallowed hard, blue eyes eating up every detail of your body—every curve, every freckle, every birthmark.

“He won’t have to be gentle with me,” you breathed, letting your fingers dance over your skin, “I want him to make me scream his name tonight. First, when his fingers slip into me, when his tongue tastes me. Then, when he fucks me. Hard. In whatever way he pleases. Because tonight, I’m his. Only his.”

Pennywise’s eyes turned yellow again and you looked down at him victoriously when you noticed that your words had had other effects on him too.

“Get out. Or I’ll make sure we put on a show for you tonight. Admit your defeat, I won this round. We can play again tomorrow.”

“This isn’t over,” he hissed at you, slowly fading before your eyes until he was gone. And this time, he wasn’t hiding anywhere in your house but had retreated to his lair for good.

You didn’t bother to put anything back on when you walked back into the bedroom, barefoot and hips swaying with confidence. Richie was sitting on your bed, flipping through a book when his eyes looked up briefly. He double-checked when he realized you stood before him in nothing but your birthday suit.

“You, Richie Tozier, make me do things that I shouldn’t,” you said and took the book from his hands, throwing it to the ground. “What, are you quoting Ariana Grande now?” he asked drily. You shrugged, straddling him. “I’m more of a dangerous woman than you might think.”

He didn’t have to know what dangers you were capable of. Not yet, not now. “Now stop ruining this moment with pop culture references,” you breathed against his lips before kissing him deeply, “I want you to have me whichever way you want.”

“Whichever way I want?” he checked, his lust-clouded eyes only adding to your arousal. You nodded. “Whichever way you want. I’m yours, body and soul. Defile me, caress me, use me. I don’t care, I just want you.”

That night you fell asleep from utter exhaustion, wrapped in his strong arms protectively.

   The next morning came too soon. You dared a peek through your eyelashes, at Richie’s naked body dipped in the rays of the burning morning sun that fell through the curtains. A content smile spread on your face and as you stretched lazily you felt sore from last night.

No past lover had ever made you feel the things that you had felt with Richie last night. It had been marvelous, every second of it—and you could barely wait for more. However, your wish for morning sex would have to wait for a little longer because your lover was still fast asleep. His breathing was so calm and even that you didn’t as much as press a kiss onto his skin before you tiptoed into the bathroom.

You hurried through your morning routine and while you waited for the water to run hot in the shower, you inspected your bruises and lovebites. Richie hadn’t been too rough with you last night and you knew that some of the bruises were from Pennywise. As that realization sunk in, you grimaced. You much rather wanted to focus on that very generous lover that was snoozing in your bed. Pennywise would find you sooner rather than later anyway.

Steam was already clouding the glass of the shower when you stepped under the water, savoring the warmth. After you had washed your hair and body, you stood, eyes closed, imagining what Richie would do to you once he had woken up. You felt like a love-struck, hormonal teenager.

He wanted you to meet his friends today. But that was later—you still had a little time until then. There was still a little time until Pennywise would be on everyone’s lips, until you had to seriously consider when you would have to reach into that deep well of power inside of you. Either to help those friends or to—

“Keep your eyes closed,” Richie said unexpectedly, cold air licking over your body when the shower door was opened. “Turn around for me, put your hands against the wall.” The instructive edge in his voice made your skin tingle with anticipation.

A finger brushed down the length of your spine, sending a shiver through you. Arms reached around you and a kiss was pressed against your shoulder. Far too willingly, you tipped your head to the side, allowing him access to your neck. Hands wandered over your curves brazenly as he kissed your neck. Skillful fingers pinched your nipples, coaxing a moan from you. A needy knot formed in your belly and you craved for his touch to wander down.

“Spread your legs for me. Let me feel you,” he instructed. Even though you were almost overwhelmed by arousal, his words seemed odd. Richie hadn’t been so dominant last night. This was…different.

Your eyes flashed open and you whirled around. “You filthy shapeshifter,” you hissed and shoved Pennywise away from you. A smirk appeared on his wicked lips. Lips you had wished to kiss you for so long.

“I told you we would play today. Don’t act surprised.” He chuckled and reached out to push against one of his bruises, the dull pain reminding you of his words. “I must admit, when I saw you, truly saw you last night…I desired you.” He licked his lips, hunger burning in those ancient, cunning eyes. “Do you still want me to play with you? To play this game?”

Suddenly, you felt the urge to turn the water on cold. Should you tell him off? Should you give away your loyalty just like that?

“Yes.” The word blurted out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Yes, I want you to play this game with me.”

“Good girl,” Pennywise purred and cupped your face, “I will show you now how only I can make you feel. I will give you a reason to rethink that alliance.” His lips finally met yours in a sensuous kiss that made you burn like the wildfire you had learned to subdue.

You allowed your arms to snake up around his neck, pulling him closer to you, relishing in the sensation of his warm skin pressed against yours as water poured over you both.

As he kissed you deeply and thoroughly, a hand dipped between your legs, brushing against your throbbing core. Oh, how you wanted this.

“What would you like me to do first?” he asked and you could only moan when his finger slipped inside of you. Grateful for his support, you didn’t reply at first but just savored how he explored you for the first time. You angled your hips slightly, grinding yourself against his touch, wanting more—needing more. “Do you want me to finish you like this? Or do you want something else?” He just wanted to hear you beg him for more. “I want you to—” You pulled in a breath when he started to rub your clit with his thumb. Such clever, clever hands.

“Your wish is spelled out in your head. Ask me to fulfill that wish,” he urged, rubbing harder. “Please,” you finally panted, “Please.”

Pennywise removed his hand and licked his fingers clean of you. “Then turn around. And put those hands against the wall.” This time, you did as instructed. Hands held onto your hips when he finally thrusted into you deeply. His size made you yelp with pleasure. “Is this how you imagined it to be?” he asked as you adjusted to every glorious inch of him.

No, this was better. So much better.

“Tell me,” he urged as he eased out of you only to push into you, harder this time. “You feel better than I imagined,” you admitted and moaned as he found a rhythm, pounding in and out of you mercilessly.

You might have cursed his shapeshifting abilities before, but as he moved you learned to appreciate them. He could fill you in ways that shouldn’t be possible, creating friction that drove you crazy. A well-known sensation started to build inside of you and you prepared yourself for a violent orgasm.

When it finally crashed over you, your eyes rolled back, and it took all of your self-control to not call out his name in pleasure. Pennywise slammed into you one more time until he found his own release, his chest pressed against your back.

“Let me know when you need another wish fulfilled,” he whispered into your ear before he moved away from you, as if completely unfazed by what had just happened. “Remember this today. Remember this when you’re with him.” You were still catching your breath, leaning against the slick tiles of the shower when you realized he had disappeared again. With shaky limbs, you allowed yourself to sink onto the floor. You barely registered that the bathroom door opened.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Richie said and leaned in the doorframe nonchalantly. “While you seemed to enjoy that shower just fine without company, make sure to invite me next time.”

Yes, you would invite him next time—you would try to invite him anywhere you went. Because otherwise he and his friends might not get out of Derry alive. And you might get lost in a tangle you could never free yourself from.

Read Chapter 3 here.

Tag List:

@psychoredpanda @shockwavee @itssmaugtheterrible @ggclarissa @okokbucky @chillcan

[lucarioisinthevoid]

For the Henry in Hell- maybe N. Balloon Boy, Rockstar Foxy, Scraptrap, and maybe Dave (since Henry wants to talk more with him)?

(Okay, I’m way too fucking tired to make these, but dear god, it’s five AM and I WILL fucking get the Henry in Hell stuff done NOT READ THIS OVER I’LL REGRET THIS AFTER HAVING HAD A NAP. BUT FOR NOW? KICK MY ASS AND CALL ME A CANDY CANE. I’M NOT WASTING MORE TIME. I’LL EDIT IT TOMORROW. ENJOY.)

Does he want to talk to Dave? It’s difficult to say. He wants answers. And Dave seems like the weakest link in the chain. There seemed to be certain beings that influenced how the nights played out. For now, he knew of three for a fact. Most obvious, DeeDee. Henry was considering that perhaps she was connceted to the old man- there was a keen smell of lake water whenever she appeared. At first he hadn’t noticed, but now he couldn’t miss it, no matter how badly his anger flared up when he saw her suddenly jump out from beneath the table, or some sort of black hole of vile darkness, where all the annoying thing festered and cross-bred to create worse and worse- He took a deep breath. Stay calm. … yes, the lake. The lake brought him here, it must have some sort of importance. Being capable of changing the rule of the night… that seemed to be within the lakes domain. Then there was the suit. Of course the suit was special. Remaining behind after the night, during the downtime. Sometimes Helpy and Rockstar Freddy appeared to give advice and little prices ‘for the trouble’, but they never remained for long. Also, both of them were bears. Like the suit. He hadn’t yet found a way to make the suit react to any sort of input from his side, thus testing him and the changes he caused to his environment was almost impossible. Even calling him Goldie drew hardly any reaction from him. The most influence he had seen the suit exert was about the TV program, but his continuous presence still was beyond notable. Now, last was… … Dave. Of course. If there was one person capable of manipulating the souls without even knowing how or that he was even doing it in the first place, it was his purple companion. Sometimes he had wondered if there was such a concept as deliberate chaos manipulation. Another thing he might would have figured out if he would have not been brutally cut off from all his studies. But, no time being bitter. All he need was to figure out the variables at his disposal, then he would be able to manipulate them to his own benefit. There was an exit. This was a trap, a way to contain him, a place consuming energy like any other. And there was a way to shut it down. He merely needed to figure it out. For that, however, he needed to start getting some data. Try out different stimulus. That was what he was ready to do today. He had plenty of positive contact with Dave so far, nothing more seemed to be coming out of it. Despite everything, Dave STILL insisted this here was a great place- and Henry did not care for it. There was nothing he could bribe out of his former friend anymore, he clearly was not being cooperative- so he would show him another side, at the risk of ruining any claim to their friendship forever. … not that there were any traces left after Dave had betrayed him. Valuing his object of obsession over him, spitting in the face of everything Henry had ever done for him. Nightmare Balloon Boy slipped into the room- the night had started. “AND WHAT WILL YOU DO TODAY, TOOTHPICK?” “You will be surprised. I am sure of that…” “YOU THINK YOU CAN SURPRISE ME?” “It is not you I plan to surprise, so it hardly matters.” The animatronic looked at him suspicious. “YOU SEEM VERY CONVINCED ABOUT THIS, SHORTSNACK.” “I am.” That was where Henry stopped the conversation. Saving his energy for the one he was meaning to hurt. He glanced at the Nightmare Balloon Boy, feeling barely anything for him. This creature would not attack- it was too weak to go against the rules, so it would be leering at him while he had the camera up, grinding his teeth. Rockstar Foxy he had actually never met before- and he’d try to avoid him tonight too. For some reason he always had the eerie feeling that this bird would never like him- no matter what he tried. He loved birds a lot. That was why birds tended to stay as far away from him as possible. The plastic nightmare snarked something- But Henry wasn’t listening. He didn’t need him anymore. He didn’t have to talk to him anymore, even if he liked it, even if it was entertaining. Henry’s focus was on one thing only. Dave. Namely, how to rip him apart. Slowly his fingers tapped on the table, as he shortly took down the camera to flash the animatronic in his room, before pulling it back up, looking at the little springtrapped head moving along. … why would the one he shouldn’t have killed give Dave so much ability to manipulate the world around him? To a point that he was even allowed to join him in the office without attacking? Probably because he wanted to see them fight. And frankly- Henry wanted to fight him too. He was tired. And angry. He wanted to face the stupid child and-

Talk to him.

There was no spite for him specifically, in some way he could admire this child and the world he created. The animatronics, all filled with at least some level of personality, and somehow convincing two creatures from beyond to aid him. Yes, there was a lot of raw potential here. Perhaps it could use some guidance. … at least he could TRY. Either he would get out, he would get to teach a high potential being, or- worst case- everything would stay the same. Dear god, this place was BORING him. Boring him like constant nails on chalkboard, boring him like itching teeth and a vile smell. Nothing was truly happening- and it was driving him crazy. Even worse so that Dave claimed this place was great, while still acting as though he was Henry’s best friend. There was something so intensely infuriating about it. It didn’t FEEL like Dave was free himself, but he thought if anyone could help him get out- it would be him. Yet he denied everything- The person who kept him here… All of a sudden a terrible idea grew inside of Henry’s mind. What- What if it was the Orange Guy? At least his long lost soul, biding its time until he could come and- That would explain why Dave was filled with so much life and personality. He WOULD know him. And the guy was extremely talented at convincing those around him to aid his wants. … maybe the child form he had taken on had to do with trauma? Dave himself seemed to have at least a second soul that got stuck back from before his mother died, it would not be too unlikely- not to mention that souls were inherently ageless. Perhaps it had been an act of deception, trying to throw Henry off the trail. Yet- that would leave the question… if the soul was here with him, then what was keeping the Orange Guy alive? He shuddered and tried not to think about it. There had to be something, SOMETHING powering him. Something… No matter what, it would be upsetting to hear his friend being insulted. And his glance on the camera confirmed that it was about to be done. A choice. He had to commit, with his very soul. And he would. The vents rattled, Henry refreshed the ventilation and put down the screen, flashing the Nightmare, before looking up at the vent. Almost instantly, Dave’s eyes shined a pale light out of the darkness. His grin glowed out from under the mask, just to gently shift into innocent confusion. “Henry. Aren’t ‘cha gonna let me in?” Coldly the Pink Man looked at his former friend. “No.” Dave’s grin widened for a moment, thinking it was a little game. “Aw, c’mon! What if I say please? Please lemme in? Pretty please!” “I do not think I will.” It was then that Davetrap caught on that something was going on. His expression shifted again, fully this time around. Worry, confusion and- annoyance. Of course, always the annoyance about defiance, Dave was one and the same as him on this topic. However, Henry at least always had the authority of logic- Dave had nothing, nothing but his unstable emotions and violence to justify his wants and get his way. “… why? What’s the problem, Henry?” “I am done with you.” The word came over Henry’s lips utterly naturally. He meant it. Even as Dave recoiled. The atmosphere in the establishment instantly changed, as well as Dave’s entire expression. It was glowing still, as bright and if not brighter… and plenty of people might misunderstand it as him still having fun, still amused, however Henry knew him better than he knew himself. He knew that was nothing but rage. “What did you say there, friend?” “I told you I am done with you. William, you have done nothing so far but to disappoint me.” There was an art to it- To give just enough of a pause to let the words HURT, but not enough to let a counterargument form- to let any resistance develop. “Frankly, I have given you many chances. Too many changes. Failure after failure was all you brought me however. I put all my effort into you- effort that I could have put into ANYONE else, into a damn PET and it would have served me better.” “You-“ “No. No, William, you do not get to talk. I have kept quiet for too long. Giving you mercy, care, hoping and praying for you to turn into something better- and now look at you. Who do you think you ARE?! Using my generosity? Abusing my patience?! You were useless! You never aided me when it counted, you never LEARNED, you were SELFISH, like an ANIMAL, you were IGNORANT, you were an OBSTACLE- All my WORK, all my LOVE for you, our BOND- It never existed outside of my head, did it?!” “What- Henry, I-“ “WHAT. What do you THINK you can SAY here?! WHAT EXCUSE DO YOU HAVE, I AM DYING TO KNOW! DYING, QUITE LITERALLY, BECAUSE OF YOUR DISLOYALTY, YOU SACRIFICED ME. YOU SACRIFICED ME, AND EVERYTHING WE HAVE WORKED FOR. YOU HAVE NO DIGNITY. YOU HAVE NOTHING YOU CARE ABOUT. YOU ARE A SHAM! A SHELL OF A PERSON! A HEARTLESS MONSTER! AND NOT EVEN ONE OF THOSE THAT ARE OF WORTH, OF VALUE, OF USE! Anything that you provided me with was something I could have reached by myself. All you have done was to hinder me.” Infuriated the guy in the vents hissed. “What the fuck do you think you’re sayin’?! I’VE BEEN-“ Mockingly Henry grinned up at him. “What? What have you been doing? When have you ever been useful? Protected me? Face it, William, I pitied you and that was my mistake. I should have known that there was a reason everyone discarded you before. Once you will be gone, nobody will cry for you- nobody will miss you. The Orange Guy- to him you are merely entertainment. You are a fucking TOY at best- and more so an UNLOVEABLE, REPLACABLE TOOL.” Finish it. One last time. Slowly he stood up, stepping towards the vent. “William. Look at me. I want you to look at me, and I want you to know… … everything would have been better if you never had existed.” With that he closed the vents- both the front and the side one, just in time as the entire room was shaking, flickering, as something hysterical was making its way through it- Both sides of Dave being blocked out, as Henry fell back into his seat, raising his monitor, fixing the ventilation just in time. The night was not long after that. When he returned to the office, the suit was positioned in a way that it was looking at Henry as he entered. … somehow looking disappointed. Accusing. But Henry had no interest in that. Instead his attention was drawn to the board. All animatronics were glowing. The board was RED. Good. It was time.

[pathogenic]

Chapter 8: The Swine God

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Necromancer

Chapter 2: The Prophet

Chapter 3: The Hag

Chapter 4: The Brigand Vvulf

Chapter 5: The Brigand’s Cannon

Chapter 6: The Drowned Crew

Chapter 7: The Siren

Chapter 8: The Swine God

Chapter 9: The Formless Flesh

Chapter 10: The Ancestor

Epilogue

Warning for Violent Character Death

Credits to the Darkest Dungeon Wiki page for piecing together the Ancestor’s backstory.

It was an awful idea. I shouldn’t have entered the room I found, and yet I couldn’t pull myself away.

The immediate area was a study. This was were it seemed my ancestor did the rest of his studies into magic and forbidden arcane arts. There was a bloodied table and a bucket of something foul I didn’t wish to investigate any further. There were books on spells, rituals, and herbalism, but most importantly, there were journals. These were different than the ones I had found before. While they had much of the same dates, it was like these journals never aged. The pages were still pristine and perfectly legible.

I sat in his old chair in front of his desk, journal in hand, and I started to read, and oh the things I discovered. I learned of how he met a noblewoman who was far too beautiful and of lavish parties held in the courtyard. I learned of how he realized how cruel this woman was but played into her sport. He killed her and mixed her blood with wine and had the corrupt nobles of the land drink it. He had but a drop himself and it taught him about something ancient and truly powerful. He locked the nobles in the courtyard and let them kill each other in a frenzy as he started upon his work.

It started off simple enough. There was a woman in the Hamlet who already dabbled in magic. She used herbs and mushrooms in order to understand and use her craft. My ancestor described it as a rudimentary introduction to magic, but a good place as any to start. However, his thirst for knowledge caused him to reach overseas and to employ people who dabbled in the more extreme versions of the magic he desired. Around this time, he also started to make dealings with a pirate crew to secure the supplies he would need for his studies. What he needed was best not seen by the public eye, after all. There were also mentions of a woman who started to follow him along the Hamlet. At first, he appreciated the attention, but eventually it began to wear on him.

From there, my ancestor started to change into something inhuman. The witch started to rely more and more upon the mushrooms and the herbs she used for magic to try and understand the power that my ancestor was touched by, which warped her appearance severely. In his disgust, he sent her away and deep into the Wealds. He justified this by saying he had no further use of such a crude practice.

The scholars he called upon bored him, so he killed them and raised them to see if he could. The story from there was one I knew already – the dead started to raise the dead. He found this amusing.

The pirate crew started to grow bold and charged him more and more for the supplies he needed. So one night, after the pirates ran amuck in the Hamlet, drinking and raising hell, he cursed their anchor. He said he gave it every curse he knew so it would drag them to the bottom of the sea and drown them all. It was no wonder it took Alhazred so long to remove the curse, or rather, curses.

At this point, my ancestor went beyond being simply inhuman and started to become only what I can describe as a tyrant and a monster. There is no shortage of bodies in the Hamlet. Even in the more peaceful times, there was plenty of plague and strife to help fill a graveyard. This meant that he had plenty to work with for his forbidden arts. He combined pig flesh and human flesh and raised them, just to see what would happen. He called these twisted creatures the Swinefolk. More often than not, he wasn’t pleased with the results and would dispose of them, though he didn’t detail how.

He continued with this vile craft until funds ran low. At this point he discovered a ritual that he could perform to secure more resources. He tied the woman who followed him to an idol and pushed her into the sea. The next day he found many beautiful jewels that helped fund his monstrous research.

He also detailed how a man approached him, speaking of things he shouldn’t know. He warned my ancestor that his ambitions would destroy him and the Hamlet. My ancestor didn’t wish to hear it, so he tortured the man in broad daylight. The townsfolk turned against him, so he hired brigands to keep them in line. The man then approached him once again, offering his warning a final time. Apparently from there, my ancestor showed him something so awful that the man tore out his own eyes and fled into the dungeon.

There is nothing much beyond that, just further accounts of his experiments with the Swinefolk. At that point I felt far too disgusted to continue. I slammed the journal shut and shoved it away from me. The loud clap caused something on the other side of another set of locked doors to squeal. It did not escape me that it was a very odd pig-like squeal. At that point I realized where he was disposing of those failed experiments. At that point I rushed back to the top floor of the Estate.

By then, the sun was just starting to rise, and the Hamlet was starting to wake up. I was quick to gather my heroes, demanding they prepare for battle. Naturally they were confused, there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, but I insisted, promising them answers later. I told them to gather their gear and then head for my Estate.

Slowly they filtered in, exchanging confused and concerned looks. It seemed that they thought I finally had lost it from the stress of managing the Hamlet and trying to undo what my Ancestor had done, but I knew I was in my right mind. I could not help but pace as we waited for the last of the heroes to arrive, which I’m certain did nothing to disprove of their theories about me.

Once they were all assembled, I explained what I had found within the basement. I lead them down to the locked doors and tapped the door with the pommel of my sword, but nothing squealed this time. There were looks exchanged before they went back to the previous lock to grab the key from it. The key was then placed within this lock and it sprung open.  If the smell was bad before, it was almost unbearable now. We recoiled and prepared for whatever we would find on the other side, but there was nothing that can prepare you for the sight of humans melted together with pig flesh, making malformed creatures that only knew violence.

The first of the Swinefolk we had encountered gave a blood curling scream before charging. Thankfully, these creatures were not particularly strong and fell to our blades within moments. It seemed that not all of them were this brazen, however. The sound of someone gurgling caught our attention as we realized that while we were charged by one group, another had snuck around to ambush us. Audrey didn’t stand a chance with a knife in her throat. It dawned on us that we could be attacked from anywhere if they were capable of such tactics. We stood close as a group, watching each other’s backs as we pushed further and further into the halls beneath my home and beneath the Hamlet.

It was a long and tiresome journey. My ancestor certainly had kept himself busy with this nightmarish craft. I did not want to think about how many people it took to make something of this size, not that I even had a chance to in all honesty. The attacks were enough to keep my mind busy.

At some point we became aware of a scream that drowned the rest out. Whatever made it had to be a creature of immense size. It echoed down the halls and we stopped dead in our tracks to try and figure out where it came from. Then it screamed again, and we strained our ears. We could hear the sound of something scraping and then the sound of something dragging. Whatever it was, it was heading our way.

Cautiously, we moved forward, towards the sound. It wasn’t like we had much of a choice – there was only one way forward after all. We couldn’t just go back. If this was the source of our troubles, then the sooner it was dead, the sooner the Hamlet could recover.

What we found I can barely describe. It was a member of the Swinefolk that nearly scrapped his head on the top of the ceiling. It had no lower half. It was nothing more than a pile of viscera that made up its torso and head. It slowly pulled itself along the floor with one hand, the other clutching a giant blade. Upon its head was a crown formed of iron, so I could call the beast a Swine King, but with its horrible size and impossible form, it seemed more fitting to call it a Swine God.

Beside it was a far smaller member of its species. The smaller one locked its eyes onto us and then emitted a terrible little screech. The Swine God raised its head and looked straight at us and then the giant blade was raised. It came down with a loud crash and I felt fortunate that the attack was so obvious we could easily move out of the way.

The smaller one then squealed again, and the attack fell once more. At this point, Fergus ripped away from William’s grip, lunging straight for the smaller one. He bit down hard on the creature as it gave an earsplitting scream. The Swine God immediately turned as William started to dash towards his hound. The blade moved fast this time. William defended Fergus, and because of this, the blade imbedded itself deep within him. The hound howled for his lost master, but fled the fight, not seeing any reason to risk his life any further without his master. With his tail tucked between his legs, he dashed for the door.

With his little friend now safe, the large, monstrous creature started to aim for us again. We split apart from each other, hoping to make it difficult for the small beast to determine who needed to be attacked. The swing from the Swine God were less accurate and more telegraphed, but that wasn’t always a promise, especially the more we injured the larger beast. He became more panicked and would start to ignore the barks of the smaller one. The Swine God would swing at whatever he thought was near by with no care as to the damage it caused.

With a few more strikes, it fell back into the pile of viscera it likely once was. The small beast, now panicked and alone, started to lash out. He attempted to swing and bite at as he pulled away to try and make an escape. It only took one shot from Missandei to stop his infernal screams.

Thinking that we were victorious, we started to leave. It was at this moment we heard the sounds of something dragging closer to us once more. We realized that our fight with the Swine God and his small friend likely covered up the sound of another enemy approaching, and now here it was, entering the room we were in.

If what we fought was horrific, then I lack to words to describe what entered the room next. What we were met with was a being that had no solid form. It was nothing more than viscera loosely bound together. As it moved, we could see flashes of faces, of bone, of innards, or anything you can possible imagine that was once human or swine. We found ourselves rooted in place with out fear and our disgust, allowing the hideous abomination a chance to fire a tendril with a mouth forward into our group.

[bgn846]

Worthy Chapter 3: Connections FFXV A/B/O Promnis

<Previous Chapter 2

“My money’s on the dark haired one with the sharp nose,” Ardyn idly commented from his position standing next to Ignis.

 “I believe she tried last year. Do you think she’d be foolish enough to repeat her failure?”

 Ardyn snorted softly and raised an eyebrow.  “Of course she’ll try again. She wants the title of queen.”

 “I can tell you with certainty that Gladio won’t let her within ten feet of Noctis.  Lady Pravus is known to be quite clingy.”

 “We shall see,” Ardyn offered as they watched.

 Ignis had managed to take a small break before Noct’s speech and had found a quiet spot to rest near a large potted plant.  Ardyn had spotted him immediately and had gone over to fraternize. Ardyn usually never made an appearance at large social gatherings, but this was his one exception.  Each year he would make bets with Ignis regarding who would vie for the prince’s attention.

 It had turned into sport at this point.  Noct was very secretive about who he liked, which left the general public always on the hunt for details.  Without fail, every banquet featured throngs of suiters working to woo Noct. All attempts ended in failure, but some did get close enough to earn a dance or maybe even a peck on the cheek.  This is what Ardyn and he bet on: how close they could get to Noctis and what they would do.

  Ignis considered Ardyn to be eccentric.  He was supposed to be Regis’ older brother, though Ignis doubted the authenticity of that claim.  They looked nothing alike, and Ardyn had control over a more powerful magic than the king. He’d seen it in use once. The king’s magic was blue. Ardyn’s was red.

 Noct had told him once that Ardyn had been inside the crystal.   The advisor wasn’t sure he wanted to believe that tale. Eos had been at peace for over one hundred years.  The scourge that had plagued their realm had been banished by the oracle many decades ago. Whatever reason Arydn would have for even attempting to commune with the crystal was unknown.

 The man beside him seemed quite content to potter around the citadel and scare new crownsguard recruits. He lived his life like a never ending vacation, though when Noct was born, he rapidly turned into the doting uncle.  That was part of the reason Ignis was so comfortable around him.

 From the tender age of seven Ignis had been by Noct’s side, as he was slated to be his future advisor.  So he’d naturally been included in the many games of hide and seek and chess with Uncle Ardyn. Where others found him creepy, Ignis merely looked to him as a silly older brother.

 “She’s going in for the kill.” Ardyn interjected quietly.  “I say she gets stopped within five feet.”

 Ignis sighed; he knew Gladio would intercept her, but she was tricky, if he remembered anything from last year.  “She’ll get stopped but manage to touch his arm.”

 “Oh, you think she’ll manage a connection. This      will     be interesting.”      

 Ardyn and he watched as a polished-looking woman in an expensive gown approached the prince.  Lady Saeva Pravus was from Altissia and born into a well-to-do family. However, their money had begun to run out, and she was actively looking for a wealthy mate.   Most avoided her advances, but others were blinded by her beauty, unaware that she had a terrible temperament and a mean streak equal to a raging behemoth.  

 It was this vile creature that was making her way toward the crown prince of Lucis with a determined gait.   Sure enough Gladio, intercepted her, but a second later he had his eyes screwed shut in pain and had been side-stepped.

 Ignis made to leave his position to lend aid, but Ardyn stopped him.  “If she had done something truly deemed a threat, Gladio would have called out.  She’s most likely thwacked him with the back of her hand.”

 “In his nuts?!” Ignis hissed.  He was agitated by the very idea of someone behaving that way at a fancy dress party.

 “Do keep in mind that Gladio chose not to harm a drunk crown citizen years ago.  The man made an advance at Noct with a blade, no less, and he left him unharmed. Of course, she would use this information to her advantage.”

 Bless the shield for being in control of his emotions, because he certainly could have used force after being treated in such a manner.  Ignis scowled as he watched Lady Pravus continue on her way to Noct with Gladio stiffly following. Neither of them could hear the exchange of words, but the prince bore an angry glare.

 The conversation lasted only a minute, and then she reached out, preparing to touch Noct’s arm.  Ignis was both proud and slightly upset with the prince’s next action. He held up his hand and sneezed.  This, in turn, stopped Lady Pravus in her tracks, her hand hovering in midair. She waivered, clearly uncertain of whether to continue or not; it appeared she didn’t want to get near him.  Perhaps this woman, for all her gusto, was afraid of germs.

 Noct scrunched up his face to unload another sneeze.  Lady Pravus bowed quickly and stepped away, nearly tripping over Gladio as she fled.   “I was not expecting that,” Ignis admitted after a moment.

 “You owe me,” Ardyn trilled.

 “That I do, though I’m proud of his efforts to shoo her away despite my lost bet.  She is a terrible woman.”

 “Should we go see if the crown prince is coming down with a cold?”

 “Hmmm, yes, that sounds like a splendid idea,”  Ignis replied.

     --

  Noct had readied himself for a third sneeze when he felt Gladio’s hand on his shoulder.

 “She’s gone,” he spit out. “You can stop sneezing.”  

 “What the hell did she do to you?  Step on your toe with her pointy shoe?” Noct asked with concern as he brought his hand down.   “Whatever it was, looked like it hurt.”

 “Talk to my manhood about it later,” he grumbled with a wince.

 “Ow.  She must use that move a lot to have caught you off guard.”

 “Yeah, it was practiced alright.  Good thing I’m trained well enough to not toss her rude ass across the room.”

 “I wouldn’t have minded that. She gives me the creeps.”

 The sound of brisk footsteps filling the air caused Gladio to turn quickly. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw who was approaching. “Did you see the snake?” the shield asked in a whisper.

 “I’m afraid I did.” Ignis offered as he nodded to them both.   “Noct, I will say you made me lose my wager, but I’m proud of your evasion efforts this year.  Very well done.”

 Smiling Noct took the praise from his advisor and held his head a little higher.  “Who do you think her next victim will be?”

 “Oh dear.” Ardyn hummed.  “It appears she has decided the king of Niflheim will suit her needs.”

 “King Alban isn’t exactly a nice guy, but I’m not sure he deserves her attention either,” Noct muttered. “I still don’t understand why he doesn’t bring his own guard when he visits.”

 “He and Captain Drautos are friends, Highness,” Ignis added dryly.  “Hence his reason for ‘forgetting’ to secure his security detail every year he visits.”

 “Well, it’s dumb. If Drautos likes him so much, why doesn’t he move to Niflheim?”

 “His chances at rising to a position of power are greater in Lucis,” Ardyn commented calmly.  “Some people are after simple things.”

 Noct frowned at the thought.  It wasn’t exactly comforting to think someone so close to the royal family would be so open in their aspirations.  That, however, was Drautos to a T. “Oh, she’s trying to talk to him – ew, she’s going for the arm grab.”

 “Touch is a normal way to show one’s emotions, Noct. I don’t see why it bothers you so much,” Ignis huffed.

 “Still gross and not my thing.”

 The four of them watched in silence as Lady Pravus firmly latched onto King Alban’s arm and led him around the party.  Unable to hear what was being said, they lost interest after a while. The conversation unfortunately started back again regarding his upcoming speech.  Noct hated to talk in front of others. He’d been trained well enough to hide his disdain, but it didn’t make it any easier.

 Soon the time approached, and he was ushered toward the stage.   Ignis gave him a pat on the back and nearly shoved him up the last few steps.  His advisor knew he didn’t want to talk, so it was a struggle each time.

 Thankfully, he survived his efforts, and within ten minutes he was back safely hiding behind his shield.   “Gladio, how much longer do I have to stay here. I want to go back and hang out with Prompto.”

 “Not up to me, buddy. We gotta ask Iggy,” he offered with an understanding smile.

 Ignis strolled up a second later and stared at him hard.  “You want to bail already, don’t you?” he asked.

 “Is it that obvious?”

 “Terribly,”  Ignis said wryly.  “Perhaps the migraine you will suddenly be afflicted with in the next minute will force you to return to your chambers and rest.”

 “Gladio.” Noct hissed. “He’s being nice to me because of Prompto isn’t he?”

 The shield shrugged and smiled.  “So, are you going to take advantage of it or not?”

 “Ow, my head, it aches.  Please, someone accompany me to my quarters. I must rest.”

 Ignis smiled and squeezed Noct’s arm as Gladio herded him towards the exit.  “Do take care and let me know if you need anything.”

 They made it out in the hallway easily, considering most people didn’t dare stop Gladio when he appeared set in his ways.   Once they were away from the people, Noct ducked under Gladio’s arm and leaned into his side. “That lady was so icky.”

 The shield hummed noncommittally and hugged him closer.  “Only a few more months, and you can make an official announcement.”

 “I know, but I still wish I could tell everyone now.”

 “And risk the wrath of Iggy? Oh no, I’m not dealing with that.   He wants you to wait until your twentieth birthday, and then you can tell whomever you like.”

 Noct whined again but dropped the subject.  He knew his advisor was always right when it came to matters like this.  “Do you want to stay and hang out a little?” the prince tried as they neared the suite.

 “Nah, I promised Sana I’d call her tonight. She wanted to hear about the party.”

 “Be sure to tell her how I got rid of icky pants. I know she’ll laugh at that.”

 Gladio snickered and shook his head.  “That will be the highlight, considering what she did to me to get to you!”

 Noct pushed the heavy door open to the suite and laughed when Gladio stood waiting for him to close the door.  The prince, for once, would have liked being able to wave goodbye as people left his suite, but not when that someone was his bodyguard.   Gladio would always wait for him to close the door, and then he’d leave. It felt wrong, but the shield didn’t seem to mind; he took it as part of the job description.

 A bubbly laugh caught Noct’s attention as he walked toward the living room.   He could barely hear, but it appeared Prompto was talking to someone. Nervous that there was another person in the suite, he snuck up to the door and peered in.  Prompto was alone and talking on the phone.

 “I’m really ok. Trust me, mum.  Prince Noctis is nice, and he likes the same things as me.” The blond paused for a minute.  “Yeah, I don’t think that plan will work anymore – no, he’s an alpha, mum.”

 Noct instantly became worried. What kind of plan had Prompto been trying to enact?

 His downtrodden voice came back a few seconds later.  “I didn’t even ask. They are really close, and I know he wouldn’t leave the prince.”  

 Leave?  Who the heck was Prompto talking about? He’d only met two alphas: Gladio and Ignis.  Noct wasn’t sure which one Prompto was referring too.

 “Muuum,” Prompto whined suddenly. “Seriously, I can’t ask. They are happy. He wouldn’t want to leave, trust me.  No matter how much money the position paid.”

 Noct was still terribly confused.  Prompto had neither an advisor nor a shield, so it was unclear which thing he desired more.

 “I was scared at first, but he’s been really nice.  Noct even thinks he’s being nicer than normal.”

 Ok, that clinched it. Prompto was talking about Ignis.  So that was the reason the omega prince had stowed away.  He wanted to offer Ignis a job as his advisor.

 “I don’t know why I didn’t realize he was the alpha. I feel kinda stupid that I didn’t know.  I mean, it might be better. I like hanging out with Prince Noctis. I don’t think I could handle it if he were an alpha.”

 The guilt of eavesdropping finally caught up to Noct’s brain, and he silently backed away.  Opting to slam a closet door and shout hello, he hoped Prompto would hear him coming.      

 “Hey Noct!” he shouted.  “I’m on the phone with my mum, hold on,” he added once Noct rounded the corner.

 “I gotta go, mum. I’ll be home tomorrow, kay?  I love you.” He finished as he waited for what Noct assumed was a similar message.

 “Sorry, she called to check on me, so I filled her in on my adventure so far.”    

 “No worries.  You’ll be home soon, so I’m sure that will make her feel better.”

 Prompto nodded in agreement.  “Hey, I thought you were going to be gone longer. What happened?”

 “I got bored and I finished my speech, so Iggy let me skip out early.”

 “I got your text message about that horrible lady. What did she look like?” Prompto asked with excitement.

 “Oh, I took a picture. Wait until you see this piece of work.   She’s an alpha and a total bitch.” Noct watched as Prompto visibly shuddered while he fished his phone out.

 “She’s really pretty,” Prompto announced, surprised.  “I thought she’d be ugly.”

 “Nope. Only on the inside, apparently, otherwise how would she trap all her potential mates?”

 “What’s her name again?”

 “Lady Saeva Pravus - or snake lady as Gladio likes to call her. Ya know, because she lies in wait until you least suspect it and then strikes!”  Noct yelled with a fake hiss.

 Prompto burst out in laughter.  “So she tried to hit on you too?”

 “I don’t know what it was. She just wants a title.  I sneezed on her, though, and she booked it after that.”

 The blond looked at Noct, bewildered. “You sneezed on her?!”

 “Well, yeah, I can’t tell her to go away, and I can’t make nasty faces, so sneezing made the most sense.  It’s not rude, and it doesn’t get me in trouble. Everyone sneezes.” Noct smiled. He’d truly enjoyed seeing her face when he tried the move.  She’d gone pale and couldn’t get away fast enough. “I do need to warn you, though, that she went straight after your step-brother once she’d abandoned me.”

 “Who, Alban? He’s terrible. I’m sure she’ll give up once she sees how awful he is,” Prompto mused.

 “I hope so. I wouldn’t want that lady to be part of your already crazy family.”

 Noct showed Prompto more photos and the remainder of the evening was spent talking and playing video games.

    --

   Ignis couldn’t help but continually check the rear view mirror as they drove to the airfield. The omega had been busy texting nonstop once Ignis had collected him from Noct’s suite.   The advisor suspected he was chatting with Noct. They’d hit it off quite well during his short stay. The prince of Lucis had actually hugged the boy goodbye. Noct didn’t do that sort of thing unless he really liked someone.

 A small noise caught the advisors attention and he looked again to Prompto.  The blond took a deep breath and seemed to be working on speaking clearly. “Noct said I could ask you what the plan is for after we arrive.”

 “Certainly, Highness,” Ignis agreed.  “I’ve arranged a dropship to take you back home.  It will be piloted by a trusted crownsguard member.  Nyx will travel with you and escort you to a location of your choosing once you land.”  

 “Nyx will be with me the whole trip?” Prompto asked to double check.

 “Yes, unless you order him away.”

 Prompto shook his head violently and dropped his eyes.  “Um, if something unexpected happens what should I do? Can I call someone?”

 “I’ll give you my number, just in case, and that way you can alert me to your safe arrival.”  Ignis peered in the rear view mirror quickly and saw a blush forming on the prince’s pale face.  “Unless you’d rather solely communicate with Noctis.”

 “I want your number,” Prompto blurted out, and then he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

 Ignis tried not to smile, and he could tell that Nyx was working equally hard to not giggle.  The poor omega was not used to dealing with other people.

 “Excellent. That will ensure you have several avenues of contact should you need it,” Ignis added, hoping the prince would calm down.

 Soon afterward, Ignis turned into the airfield and began slowly driving on the access road towards the dropship.  They were nearly there when Prompto made a strangled noise and threw himself down on the floor of the back seat.

 The smell changed immediately, and Ignis could tell Prompto was terrified.  “Highness, what’s wrong? Is there a threat nearby?” he asked as the car slowed to a stop.

 “Those – those men,” he stuttered.  “Over by that building. They were here when I landed, and they were hunting for me. Please, they can’t find me. They’ll do bad things.”

 “You are safe with us, Highness. Please try to calm down,”  Ignis soothed in a low voice.

 Prompto whined and continued to cower in the back seat. “They’ll smell me again and try to take me away.  We have to leave.”

 It hurt Ignis to think that Prompto had to deal with this on a regular basis and that his only option was to run away and hide.  “We have business to conduct, Highness, and you have every right to be here as well. We will ensure you get home safely. Please try to trust us,” the advisor tried again.

 Prompto seemed to be mulling over what Ignis had just told him, and he stayed silent.  Nyx spoke up next in an effort to help. “Kiddo, you’ve got two highly-trained crownsguard with you. Those nasty guys won’t stand a chance.”

 Surprisingly, Prompto lifted his head slightly with a confused look and questioned. “Two guards?  Is there another car with us?”  

 “No, Iggy is a trained fighter, just like me.” Nyx replied.

 Turning in his seat, Ignis looked straight into Prompto’s blue eyes and held his gaze.  “I can assure you no one will hurt you.”

 Prompto appeared to short circuit for a moment.   Ignis wasn’t aware of the time passing until Nyx cleared his throat.  “They are walking away. I think we can continue on.”

 “Hmmm? Oh, wonderful,” Ignis murmured. “Are you ready, Highness?”

 Prompto carefully peered up in between the front seats.  He was looking for the men who’d tormented him earlier. When he seemed satisfied that they’d gone, he nodded and took his seat again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to delay us.”

 “Nothing to be sorry about, Highness,” Ignis offered.

 “Yeah, alphas can be scary and just plain stinky sometimes,” Nyx added with a smirk.

 “Ulric!” Ignis hissed. “Don’t fill the poor boy’s head with nonsense.”

 “He knows I’m trying to make a joke, right Highness?” Nyx asked as he craned his neck to catch a glance of Prompto.

 The blond finally smiled and nodded slightly.

 “Astrals, you two will be the death of me,” Ignis lamented as he pulled up next to an older model dropship.  “I do expect a full report once you’ve landed in Niflheim, and do alert me to any oddities.”

 “Understood. I’ll go check and make sure we are ready to go, and then we’ll be off. Wait here,” Nyx announced as he exited the car.

 The second the door shut, Prompto’s voice squeaked out from the backseat.  “Uh – don’t forget to give me your number.”  

 Ignis recited his number and waited for Prompto to send him a text to ensure it had been copied correctly.  “Do remember to let me know if you need anything. I don’t care how trivial you may think it. Please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

 Prompto nodded his head vigorously and bit his lip.  “Thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done.”

 Ignis offered the blond a smile.  “It was no trouble; please know you are welcome as a guest of the prince of Lucis anytime.” The advisor was trying mightily not to think of what would have happened if Prompto’s step brothers had discovered him.  The outcome would have been vastly different.

 He was about to add more when Nyx came back and lightly tapped on the window.  Prompto looked out at him and slowly reached for the door handle. “Thanks again. I hope I get to come back and visit soon.”  

 Ignis nodded his goodbye, and Prompto opened the door and left the vehicle.  The strange empty feeling was threatening to return as he watched the young man walk away.  What was it about this omega that he felt such a draw to? He waited for the dropship to close its doors and take off, unwilling to drive away until he couldn’t see it anymore in the distance.

 He sent a quick message to Nyx asking for updates.  Thankfully, the man didn’t question his desires and sent him a message back.   Prompto was fine - why wouldn’t he be? He was going home and he would live out his life. That was that.

>Next Chapter 4

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Disney+ What To Watch: My Top 10 Favourite Disney Live-Action Remakes

#6. Maleficent

Right off the bat I will say that Sleeping Beauty is a midriff movie for me, it’s by no means bad but it isn’t one of my favourites either.

The announcement that the original movie would be remade but told from Maleficent’s point of view was a very intriguing concept, and having Angelina Jolie cast and the promotional imagery released were all teeing up to be a very interesting movie.

In terms of what we actually ended up with, I enjoyed the origin and the explanation of how Maleficent came to be which led to her original first appearance at Aurora’s christening. The fact that Maleficent started off good but became evil due to the “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” explanation seemed more of an organic reason for her evilness than simply not getting an invitation to a baby’s christening.

The very fact that Stefan is the only human Maleficent ever considered to be good and even fell in love with said human but was betrayed by him in the worst way to further his selfish power-hungry goals serves as the catalyst for Maleficent becoming evil. This is why Maleficent becomes hardened to human kind because she sees all humans as she now sees Stefan, a vile manipulative traitor who only cares about himself.

In terms of world-building they replace the Forbidden Mountains with The Moors and that, plus Stefan’s natural accent, gives the movie a very Scottish feel which reminds me a lot of Brave. 

Also the creatures introduced are very hit and miss, while they’re all considered fairies of Fairfolk, there is no explanation as to what differentiates them in this movie and therefore while the Three Good Fairies from the original movie are considered to be Pixies here, Maleficent is also a fairy as are the other creatures neither of whom resemble each other.

Aside from Maleficent, my favourite type of Fairfolk were the Tree Warriors. Not only did they act as Maleficent’s sentries but their designs look like a downgraded Lord of the Rings creature which for this movie is a compliment.

In terms of story, making Maleficent a sympathetic villain or anti-hero may not have won over many fans but I enjoyed exploring the somewhat softer side to the character. While it’s clear that they definitely dumbed down the other characters in order to make her have to step in and look after Aurora.

However, while in the original story Maleficent searched for Aurora for 16 years as opposed to this movie where it took 16 seconds for Diaval to locate her, I was really not a fan of Maleficent effectively raising Aurora and growing attached to her thereby wanting to remove the irremovable curse she placed on her. I mean it would have been good if maybe Maleficent tried raising Aurora to hate humankind as she does but instead it backfires and, while Maleficent still hates humankind, she turns into a surrogate mother figure.

As bland as Prince Phillip was in the original story at least he had a huge part to play in saving Aurora and defeating Maleficent, here they do the original plot point of having Aurora and Phillip meet in the forest. But the problem there being the two knew each other as infants as Phillip was at Aurora’s christening, but when he meets Aurora in the forest in the original she is going by the name Briar Rose, whereas here as far as the audience are aware she is simply called Aurora.

Also, when Aurora does return to the castle and succumbs to the sleeping curse, Maleficent deciding to save Aurora by getting Phillip to perform true love’s kiss was stupid as not only have they just met, but Maleficent down right admits that she does not believe in true love, therefore how exactly can she believe Phillip is Aurora’s true love?

Then of course there’s the climax where the movie has that Frozen twist of non-romantic love being what saves the day, this time the motherly love Maleficent has for Aurora. Again, I can understand why people are annoyed by this twist as Maleficent is supposed to be Disney’s greatest villain yet she’s saving her hero by using true love’s kiss.

All this being said, there were still great things I loved about this movie. Not only do I love Angelina Jolie in this role particularly when we first see her flying through the skies and defending the Moors with her army including the Tree Warriors and Forest Dragon, but I also loved her battle at the end against King Stefan’s army, against the odds of fighting against iron caging.

Maleficent having wings and getting them back at the end was a very Jesus moment, and seeing Angelina Jolie looking like a superhero-style Lara Croft was awesome. Not only does she cut a striking figure and her make up and facial features complete the performance for me, but her acting is the best I have seen her in any movie she’s been in.

My favourite character though is Diaval. My middle name is Diaval because of him, I definitely prefer said name to Diablo as it was in the original. I know they both mean devil but Diaval sounds more fantastical than Diablo and works better with the character.

Having the character originating as a bird but being able to transform into a human or any other animal with a snap of Maleficent’s fingers was really inventive. Again, yes it is a cop out that he became the dragon at the end as opposed to Maleficent transforming into the dragon was definitely a choice.

But yeah it’s sad to say that the worst characters are in fact the human characters and the Pixies. Stefan is just a horrendous character, Aurora and Phillip are bland as hell and the three good fairies from the original story, who were very competent and rather interesting, are simple comic relief here and not even that funny.

I do understand what this movie was trying to accomplish and if you aren’t such a die-hard fan of the original movie it is an enjoyable experience, I saw this movie a couple of times in the cinema and have seen in several times since, every time I enjoy it and so I really can’t say it’s a bad movie. I mean it’s #6 here, it’s not terrible but it’s not the best.

So what do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Disney+ What to Watch Top 10s as well as more Top 10 Lists and other posts.

[mrneighbourlove]

Evil’s Bane: Ch 10. Evil Anew

The World felt out of balance. Leere was so weak, her mind spinning back into consciousness. The first thing she felt was a stinging sensation in her wrists. Her arms were being held up by a chain, with torturous cuffs digging into her wrists to keep her hands together. She could barely have to strength to move her legs. When she did, she discovered that she could, the Mortuus woman felt a draft. Was she naked? She didn’t have her robes. They at least took her coat and shirt off. Maybe her pants were taken too. She was too numb to tell. Even moving slightly, she grimaced at the immediate pain that followed in her wrists. Blood dripped from her fingers to the floor, and Leere finally saw the pentagram that’s surrounded her. “Oh god.”

Looking around her, there were four obelisks, and straight ahead, the Destroyer himself.

"What? Going to call out to my brother now?" Destroyer was occupied finishing the text on the Obelisks for the ritual. His own claws were digging out the symbols from the stone. All this death and decay and he did not even flinch. "Go ahead. Prama's host is rather busy right now, so I highly doubt he'll come running. Though there's plenty of other deities or spirits or whatever you wish to call them to cry to as well. Makes this so much more fun." He then said, "Better yet, why not ask Tzitzmime to have mercy on you? Perhaps he'll be in a good mood today."

“What do you think you’re doing to me?” Leere sounded tired, mostly because she was, but she still had spunk in her voice.

"I'm simply preparing a feast for Tzitzmime." Destroyer answered as his tail then started to draw a line to connect the Obelisks. He walked the pentagram, making sure everything was in place. After this was finished, he could see Kaksa once more. It would be him and her for all eternity. "I have to be a good host now, don't I?"

Leere grimaced, feeling the tattoo on her back vibrate very slowly. “You want to unleash the horror in me, don’t you? Why?” She looked up bitterly into the eyes of the god. “What can you possibly gain from it?”

"I get the pleasure of seeing that snake wail at the realization of he can't save you." Destroyer had a disturbing grin creeping across his visage. "And relish in Prama's failure. The Anagari will come slithering, trying to be your 'knight in scale-covered armor', and risk exposing Prama. When the fool does, I'll be able to rip my brother from the Anagari's body." He held up his razor sharp claws. "Interesting biological component of these Drakkan. They can use the most ancient of all magic... soul magic. Transfer the very essence of a living creature. With the Anagari so weak, I will be able to use this energy I have saved for hundreds of years to end my brother."

Leere felt hope slipping away. Was this the end of her life’s journey? To fail spectacularly?

No.

Even if she was, she wasn’t going to sink into despair. She still had her grit and her spirit. And she wouldn’t die letting him have emotional satisfaction. “Too bad that as a Drakken you look like an ass. Can’t imagine you can get laid either. I mean, it would be the most logical conclusion. You could never get your claws on your precious Kaksa. So why this life too?” When Leere saw him twitch, she smiled evilly best she could. “I bet your brother fucked her good. They were lovers after all. And even as a snake, he’s still a charming lover. I should know. I bet you can’t even pronounce sex you pathetic, little man. Must be why Kaksa didn’t love you. You’re so little.”

Destroyer did not like her speaking of Balance in such a way. No mere human could understand his story. It was just the three of them for eons. She would give her love to Maker and to him equally. Though for the longest time, maybe just a year or maybe a millennium, she did not return to his side and he despaired. What did his brother have that he did not? Was it because he was of the dark? Was all darkness considered bad? No one would ever know or comprehend, even it if would be a relief to share his frustration.

"Insult me all you wish; it will not change your fate. I'm not stupid like my brother. I will not act upon emotions."

“Fool. You might not be emotional, but you are stupid if you think killing me will bring you any closer to your precious Kaksa.”

"Oh, I know it won't. Killing my brother will." Destroyer seemed so bitter towards Maker. "But killing you will be fun."

Now within range of her face, Leere spat a hunk of saliva into his eye. “How’s that for fun?”

"... I was going to start with your finger nails, though I suppose I could begin with a tongue or your eye."

Leere cracked her finger best she could with the cuffs on. “Do your worst.”

Destroyer was by no means ever merciful. He started with Leere's painted finger nails, removing them one by one. Sometimes, on purpose, he'd leave half of a nail and deem he made an error and had to take off the rest as well just to spite her. Then, he worked on her toes. Before long, all of her nails were decorating the floor. When that pain was not enough to rouse the demon from slumber, he decided to try a different type of torment. Over and over, she was made to watch the death of her loved ones.

Every nail broken off was a spurt of blood. Pain became an abundance to Leere. This commodity was fuel to four obelisks in the room, syphoning it from her. When the mental torment of her family came, and in raw creative ways, Leere wanted it to come to an end. Seeing Rinku, Zelda, Covarog, Sunny, and all the others suffer and day was agonizing. “Fuck. You!”

"Seriously, is that the best insult you can do? So often it is used, never followed up on. Not my type, for sure." Destroyer held up a large pair of rusty scissors. "I wonder how much more it will take for you to break."

“You. Can’t. Break me.” Leere was breathing heavily to keep her mind relatively sane.

"Are you sure about that?" Destroyer nearly chuckled at her defiant attitude. "You're not the first that I've tortured and won't be the last. Many of your fellow Mortuus have broken before me. I have pulled horrors that you have never even fathomed from the shadows that my brother tossed aside."

“Vile beast. You lost before for a reason. You will do so again...”

As Destroyer was ready to continue, two robed figures with grey feathery wings floated down next to Leere. Putting two bracelets and a crown of fangs on her, they started to chant an unknown language. The Shadow man whispered gently into the Destroyers ear. “Your brother draws near. You and your minions must stop him and the wrath from interfering. When my other half is freed, my connection to this avatar will be lost. But make no mistake, I am coming here to see my work complete.”

"So… he is coming..." Destroyer sounded most amused. "I was rather uncertain of whether he would or not. Or perhaps, is it the creature that is coming for the 'tiny princess' he holds so dear? Oh well, the snake did try to warn her. Prama probably showed him all of what was to be seen of her fate."

The two-winged cultists started to chant. From outside a dome surrounding Leere, others gathered from Mortuus to monsters chanted in a hellish pray. The bracelets on Leere’s arms sparked on, and the crown on her head sunk into her skull. As Leere was shocked, and the fangs on her head sunk deeper, a terrible scream radiated outwards.

~

A flash of white. Leere was standing in Hryrule field. The sun was shining, but every animal was dead. In front of her the ground opened up. She fell and---

~

A flash of white. Decay and blood poured under her legs with the force of a raging creek. A mirror lying in front of her showed her true reflection. How old she was. As Leere pushed her legs against the blood to be not swept away, she looked closer at a movement behind her. She peered closer to see the blank pale face and the eyes of---

~

A flash of white. A void of emptiness. It was so white. It had no sound, no image, no feeling. In the distance, Leere saw a figure holding themselves close. They were a shaky silhouette. Turning with white eyes, it flickered. Leere’s soul flickered. It was time. It was the end.

~

All over the Tower of Death, Bonegrinder and Black had teleported, hoping to find Leere. However, like a signal bouncing around, they couldn’t lock onto her easily. Just as they were giving up hope, they saw a flashing pillar of blue light. Eager cultists were running forward, and as they stepped into the light, they were flown upwards into a glowing hole in the roof.

"It's started..." Bonegrinder felt a sense of dread tighten in his chest. "We are too late..."

"... is there any chance we can still save her?"

"If the demon doesn't consume her, then perhaps we can. You must be ready to fight."

"I always am."

Behind them, coming out of the wall as if being birthed from it, the Abomination was still giving chase. All six eyes board in on them. They had two choices. Run up the beam, or stay and fight.

"This thing just doesn't give up." Black sounded irritated.

"A Hellspawn of the Second Ring of Hell never stops." Bonegrinder slithered as fast as he could, going up the beam with Black right alongside him. "Personally, he detests the ones of the First Ring the most."

"And that's not a First?"

"No, if a Nameless was here, we'd both be in trouble."

"Hey, I thought you knew all sorts of magic."

"He does."

"So just magic it away."

"Only the one who calls the demon can do that. Or a Summoner."

"... great."

The ‘Angel’ drew close. Its six clawed talons suddenly glew a menacing purple, and it drove them at Black. As one nicked him, a deep sickness flew through the Wrath. Something that shouldn’t be possible was.

It was as if Black was suddenly paralyzed. He could not move and slammed harshly into the ground. Groaning, the Wraith tried to will his body to function, but he could not do so. Even lifting a finger was unsuccessful. As the creature tried to descend upon him, Bonegrinder's huge tail whacked the fiend away. Snarling at the demon, the Anagari maneuvered the Wraith onto his coils, out of harm's way. "You won't interfere." The Anagari curled the tip of his tail around the fiend's ankle and crushed it with a sickening snap. With that, it stopped its movements. For now.

As Bonegrinder and Black flew up the beam, they gave themselves ample time to flee as the Abomination recovered. It was a silent trip up, every second filling with more and more dread. At the top, they found themselves on the outside of a dome. Inside, Leere was floating upwards now. The Obelisk was burning bright with energy. Suddenly, complete nothing filled the ears of all in witness. It was then the Obelisk fired out a beam, killing all the cultists who wished to be sacrificed. Leere was flipped over with her back exposed. The tattoo on her back was glowing, with blood pouring onto the ground below. Outside the dome a whirlwind was starting to storm, red blood sky being torn by the wind. The final step to the ritual began.

Bonegrinder had managed to use a touch of Prama's magic to undo the effect of the fiend's poisoning on Black. The Wraith could now move again, but felt like he was dragging. There was hardly any energy for him to spare. He would be of no use fighting hardly. As the demonic magic started to fill the air, the Anagari nearly panicked. This was not supposed to be happening. He gently set down Black on a high ledge, hopefully to protect him from danger and rushed forward. Slamming his fists on the dome, he repeatedly struck at the structure.

"YOU LET HER GO!!!" He bellowed. "You want this snake!!! Come get him! You leave her out of it!!! Dhakk!!! He knows you hear him!!!"

"Ah, dear brother, you finally arrive to show!" Destroyer was on the other side of the dome completing his work. "A little late, as always, but better than never."

"He is here! You release her! This snake has seen a thousand deaths and he refuses to see another!"

"It seems Prama is still silent? Too cowardly to come and face me?" Destroyer played dumb, tapping his chin with a single finger. "Or perhaps... he's still not at his full power?"

"You are not capable of your full abilities either, Dhakk!" Bonegrinder snapped at him. "That will not happen until the day of prophecy!"

"Oh, you and that stupid prophecy, do you honestly believe Balance will come after Prama? After me? It's nonsense."

"You know she will! She is the Mother Goddess! She will strike down Chaos and restore harmony to the world!"

"Not if I can help it. This world will be consumed by Chaos and with you out of the way, Balance and I can live peacefully without the hassle of meddling affairs of a mortal world in the void."

From outside the dome, waking through the storm, a familiar voice shouted out to them. Sheer-Khan trotted through the bellowing wind, slowly making his way to the Hive leader. “Bonegrinder! We must abandon our station here! Open a portal to Hyrule! We must flee, now!”

"Kit!!!" Bonegrinder was relieved to see that Hades was still here. He had sensed his life was still there, but it was so hard to know for sure in this cursed land. "He is so glad to see you! Please, help him break through! Leere needs us! If the ritual is completed, then Tzitzmime will have another part of his whole joined!"

Lightning crackled, and Hades gently laid a hand on Bonegrinder’s shoulder. “She is lost. But we might be able to rally the rest of Hyrule’s Warriors. You must hurry. You are the only one able to open a portal home.”

"He cannot leave her!!! Don't you understand, Kit?! She's a key! If this is completed, Chaos can take hold of the world before he is scheduled to do so!" Bonegrinder pleaded with Hades. "Help this old snake stop the ritual! There is still time! He can suppress the demon!"

As Bonegrinder turned to break down the dome, Hades grabbed his massive metal club. With a sigh, he swung two critical blows. One strike struck Black. The force of the swing against a body his size made him fly high into the storm as if he was nothing more than an ace in the hole. The second blow was brought down on Bonegrinder’s head, caving in his skull, his brain, and his spinal cord. The concentrated explosion tore down the rest of his nerves along his massive coil. Hades sighed, carefully holding down Bonegrinder’s body. “.... You forced my hand. You stupid bastard. I didn’t want it to come to this. You should have listened to your heart and never should have come here. Now I have to play this disgusting role to its fullest depravity.”

Black had tried to rush forward to save Bonegrinder but Hades had swatted him away. The storm picked up the Wraith and threw him around, but he was still conscious. Finally, Black was able to grab onto a tower's spire and managed to climb inside. He was still here. He would find his way back to his master.

Bonegrinder, however, was out cold. Not moving. But still alive due to the deity inside of him.

“I know you can hear me, you wretched god. This is your doing. You denied me my most simple request. You brought my friend here. You allowed the gods and goddesses to fall out of Balance. My friend could have waited in the Hive while the world was recreated in blissful ignorance. But no. Now I must ensure he stays down for this.” Leere gurgled, a small cry leaving her throat, the Obelisk shining a light on her. Great new lengths had been taken to bring new conditions for the ritual, but it was finally done.

Bonegrinder was a creature of magic and violence when he desired. Sometimes, mere mistaken words or a careless action might agitate him into a rage. Many thought it was due to his split personality. The Anagari showed the side of his usual self, 'Modoc', and then other times, the true, cruel nature of 'Bonegrinder'. Yet, those who knew him throughout the years, had learned that he was one not to mess with or else there would be consequences. There was very little patience in the Anagari except for those he held dear.

Prama, for all his glory and splendor, had no patience. With Bonegrinder's mind silent from the blow to the head, the deity took over his host's body. The divinity inside of him was much stronger and could use his strength through the Anagari's body... but with some consequences for his host later. It was not an action he did often. Those large coils curled around Hades' body and one large hand snatched at the Lynel's throat. "Treacherous creature..." Prama's voice held no love for the creation of Dhakk. In full control, the Anagari's body was radiating powerful celestial magic, floating in particles around the snake. His eyes were glowing white, narrowed and angry. He always thought Lynels were rather haughty. And then one made the mistake of striking his host. "I will scald you into ash."

Hades opened his mouth, blasting the god in the face. His arms still free to move, he brought the power down on the body once more. “You could have resurrected my species! Instead you told me that they should stay dead. A being of creation too spineless to create! You should never have inhabited Modoc’s body!”

Squeezing tighter and tighter with the Anagari's coils, Prama did not let go. The deity did not feel pain. This was not his true body. His magic kept healing the damage. Returning a blow of his own to Hades' face, he kept repeating the same move, punch after strike after blow. "All things come to an end, and my brother is the one who decides that." Prama spat at Hades. "If you're angry about it, argue with him, not me. You should be grateful that the snake took you in, looked after you. Who else would have done so with a despicable species such as yourself?"

“You brought all his pain upon him. You... you alone.” Unlike the god, Sheer-Khan could not regenerate. The feline’s face looked like a tumour by the time that Prama was done. “Modoc would have... helped me. Now watch as you fail....” Before the Lynel went limp, he pointed to Leere.

~

Agony and suffering radiated through every nerve of Leere. Chanting echoed in the chamber, and brimstone sizzled from her back. With an explosion of blood and flesh, Leere’s eyes rolled back. From the pentagram on her back, something crawled out. The moment it did, two things happened. The night sky itself cracked open, bleeding the heavens. The second was that the sail of a baby rang out to all who heard it. As Leere fell to the ground, a little pinkish piece of flesh crawled on the ground. It had the upper body of a baby with its eyes sewn shut. Its lower body was a slug, flapping back and forth like a fish out of water. Every wail was cosmic torture to the ears. Schwanz des Teufels: Tyrannin was reborn into the mortal world.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626630162211028992/evils-bane-ch-9-everyone-has-something-to-lose

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626632248299536384/evils-bane-ch-11-rage-against-the-dying-of-the

[thepaperpanda]

The Skies of Dead

Summary: When London become devoured by walking corpses and mysterious virus, two complete strangers try to find a way to keep on surviving in the rotten city.

Warnings: zombies, graphic description of violence

Words: 3223

Authors: Cass & Grizzly

A/N: Cass here! My boyfriend has always had a little dream about writing his own story. I am so glad I could have helped him in making this dream come true! Hope you all will enjoy it as much as we did while writing! I love you, sweetie! 😍😍

As Arthur Bristow stood across from the building and debated with himself whether or not he should enter the Shard building, the humming and chanting grew louder.

Arthur held a machete up, breathing deeply as he checked once again if the blade was sharp enough.

Who is in there? What in blazes are they doing?

It had been a horrible week to the man. It was now four days later, and the reports of missing persons and murders in the streets of London had multiplied to shocking statistics. The city was seeing its fair share of violence, too, and it all seemed to orbit around the Shard skyscraper.

That morning four days ago, Arthur had gone to his office, finished his paper work, packed his pocket voice recorder, and set off walking to the London Eye where he had to meet with famous guest, who was about to share an interview to him. When he arrived on place, he realized the recorder wasn’t in his pocket. That made him angry and frustrated. Had he dropped it on the way? It could be anywhere between The Times office and London Eye. Arthur cursed when he realized his foolishness. Nevertheless, he made up his mind to return to his office and look for the recorder. It was when he saw undeads for the first time. Everything bursted out of nowhere, people were chasing others, trying to bite their flesh, and as soon as someone has been bitten, they turned into undeads as well. And most of infected went out of Shard. Was it a coincidence?

This day Arthur had taken a short side trip to London Bridge Street to take a look at the Shard, and here he was. Scared and hesitant. The sweat trickled down his neck. His heart rate had increased.

If you’re going inside, you’d better get going, he commanded himself. Be brave. It can’t possibly be that bad, can it?

He stepped into the street and crossed to the other side. It was then that he realized there wasn’t much traffic. For a Saturday morning, that was unheard of.

Where was everyone? Perhaps the Londoners were just as frightened as he was and were staying indoors. Good for them.

Arthur went up the stone steps and put his ear to the doors made of glass. The ugly chorale was a symphony of moans. It sounded as if the people inside were in pain and were collectively and wordlessly expressing their misery. A bunch of very sick civilians had gathered in...

Steeling his nerves and taking a deep breath, Bristow opened the doors. The stench that met his nostrils almost overpowered him. He gagged and put a hand over his mouth. He considered turning back, but now his curiosity got the best of him. He stepped inside.

The inner foyer was empty, but it was clear that the noise was coming from theinside, off to the left. Artur slowly approached the double doors to the great conference room, swallowed, and opened them.

The horror inside was too much to comprehend. And then the source of the terror turned its attention to him..

The coldness of old, stoned basement was growing with every minute Emily was spending there. The lightbulb was shining brightly but even light didn't change the fact about her position. She sat in the corner of the room, scared and cold with her back pressed hard to a wall.

Just a four days ago this young lady was working at a veterinary clinic. She never said her work was hard, being close to animals of all kinds was the main goal in her life. Their size never frightened her but that day all animals acted weird just like they would feel something that people did not, cats were hissing and dogs were nervous.

Due to some unexplained reasons, all patients canceled their appointments or simply didn't show up. This was highly suspicious to every worker but the truth was that there was no one to work for so everyone was sent home.

Emily lived outside London in a small village.

She got into her car and drove through the streets, this was when she saw the undead for the first time even if she wasn't completely oblivious to the fact then.

The man shuffled trough driveway, he was covered in blood and didn't look healthy, Emily did her best to pass him by thinking that it was just some kind of sick person on a lose.

Even if the house was small it still was cozy and enough for a young woman. Even if the day seemed quiet it quickly changed into chaos.

Emily looked through the window as soon as she heard screams outside, the things that she saw made her stomach turned.

People were running and attacking each other, acting like rabid animals which only goal was to bite someone. The sidewalks were already splattered with blood, turned body decorated streets and lawns.

At this point, only one thing hit Emily - thought about finding a shelter. She needed to hide from horrors of the outside world.

An only safe place that she knew was her basement, she ran there as soon as it was possible.

And this was how she ended in such a bad position but she knew she couldn't stay there forever.

Arthur Bristow opened his eyes, winced at the brightness of the new day, and immediately vomited. He forced himself to get to his knees in order to keep the vile stuff from getting on his clothes, although lying in the recesses of a burnt-out building wasn’t the cleanest place he could have hidden.

Soot, ash, and blackened pieces of the wooden roof that had caved into the space littered the floor; its filthiness hadn’t been so obvious last night when he’d slithered inside the structure of Big Ben.

You don’t care too much where you’re going when you’re running for your life. The main thing is to hide—quickly and silently—so they don’t get you.

After he’d finished heaving, Arthur crawled away from the mess and weakly collapsed. He lay on his back, looking up through the gaping hole at the clouds in the bright blue sky. This one building was the most iconic, both palace and clock tower.

Ironically, it was a beautiful day outside. The weather was perfect, although hot, ideal for a relaxing swim in the hotel pool.

Big Ben was now a relic of the past. The luxury establishment was now burned, destroyed, and overrun with Infected. And it had happened so quickly. The siege by the creatures began after ten last evening, and it was over in less than an hour. Everyone who was still alive had fled into the dark, dangerous streets of London. Arthur was surprised no one else had followed him into this little shelter, where he huddled for hours in fear until he had finally fallen asleep.

Sleep. At this point, it was something that wasted precious time. And he didn’t have a whole lot of that left.

Man rolled up the torn sleeve of the windbreaker he had donned to keep warm. The bite on his forearm was angry, red, and swollen. It burned like the dickens. He noted the time on his wristwatch; it had been roughly seven and a half hours since the Infected’s teeth had clamped down and punctured his skin. Now, the wound appeared diseased and putrid. Yellow pus oozed from the several perforations. It was gross, it hurt, and it was certainly deadly. Arthur quickly covered it with the sleeve of his leather jacket, although it, too, exhibited punctures in the fabric.

He stifled a cry, but the tears flowed regardless.

Emily growled pushing the heavy flap of the basement, the morning felt cold even if the sky was clear outside.

She wasn't sure how many days she spent in the basement. Her fear was paralyzing to the point that she refused to leave the safe place, thanks God for jars of food she had there.

Emily moved to window, a view there calmed her down but at the same time gave her weird feeling of danger.

The horror she saw before hiding, disappeared. Now streets were simply empty, some splashes of blood but that was it. Whatever happened she couldn't just stay there and wait for the rescue because that might never come.

Emily had chaos in her head but she had to do something so she grabbed her bag and packed some simple items like a flashlight and some bandages as well as something to eat, then put on her jacket and slowly left using the front door.

How angry she was when she saw her car was gone, all she saw was little bits of glass scattered over driveway.

Emily decided that she had to get to London, the capital of the whole country simply had to have some kind of a shelter or at last information of what the hell happened.

The young woman opened the garage and looked inside, the only useful thing there was a bike. There was no other way so she had to use the bike.

The way to London was terrible, it was a long time since she used the bike for the last time.

No matter what place she went by, they all were almost empty. Almost was the word, on her way she saw some moaning, whining, mangled figures but she never dared to get close.

The City of London was always beautiful and full of life, it was one of the most popular cities in the whole world but now it looked sad and empty.

Streets splattered with blood, old newspaper scattered all around the city, wrecks of cars.

Was it war or something else?

Emily jumped off the bike as soon as she got to one of the most iconic places in the whole city - Big Ben.

Looking around Emily smiled seeing someone walking the street.

"Sorry!," she yelled. "Hello! Excuse me but do you know what happened here? I look for some information and maybe... some government shelter," she said walking to the stranger. The horror grew big as soon as she got closer to the person

It wasn't really a person. It was a living corpse. Empty eyes and grey-white skin, its jaw was half ripped exposing everything inside. It was missing a whole arm. The creature let out a weird sound and started quickly moving toward Emily.

"Fuck! What is this! Help, can somebody help!?," Emily let out a high pitched scream and started running, trying her best to lose the monster or hide from it.

How long did he have? There was no question that he would turn. It happened to everyone who was bitten. Sometimes it took a few hours, but he had seen others fight it for up to two days. His former friend had wisely conjectured that it depended on how healthy a person was. If you were young, strong, and in good shape, then you lasted longer. The weak, elderly, and very young children turned quickly. And it was horrible. Arthur had seen first-hand what transpired when a person turned. He didn't want that to happen to him.

The nausea had passed, but Arthur felt as if he had the flu. He placed a palm to his forehead and realized he was burning up. How high was her fever? No way to know. Could his healthy resistance keep himself from turning before the medicine arrived?

If the medicine arrived.

Arthur dug into the backpack again and pulled out the handgun. It was a Colt. He appreciated the weight in palm, and then he lifted it to his head. He placed the end of the barrel to temple and wrapped  finger around the trigger. It would be so simple. Just squeeze. Perhaps a moment of pain and surprise, and then blackness. Arthur would never have to experience the horror of turning into one of them. It was truly the sensible thing to do. Who was he kidding? He was doomed. Nothing was going to stop him from turning, unless... The fucking medicine.

But before he could bolt, Arthur heard some noises outside of his shelter. And a voice. NORMAL VOICE OF SOME WOMAN.

"Fuck," he cursed and put gun back into his backpack, then took a bat with himself as he headed downstairs and out of Bog Ben, right onto empty street.

The woman was running out before one of Infected.

Arthur sighed and made some noise to distract undead.

The thing that used to be a guy emitted a howling snarl and leapt forward with surprising agility. Reflexively, Arthur swung the bat as if he was trying to knock one out of the ballpark. The club smashed into guys’s head, throwing him back onto ground. Arthur swung the bat again, striking the man’s arm. There was a loud snap and the man wailed. Arthur was sure he had broken a bone. Again, Bristow struck with the weapon. This time, the bat hit the man’s neck, surely snapping it. The horrid noise coming out of his mouth abruptly ceased as his throat was crushed. Arthur kept swinging wildly. Thing tried to get up. He drew closer and then,the bat walloped him in the head. He fell to his knees but kept grappling. Arthur clouted him again, and this time Infected dropped to the ground, unconscious.

All was quiet, except for Arthur’s rapid breathing. He shut his eyes, said a silent prayer, and then looked at the body, only to move his glance at the stranger.

Emily was sitting on the ground, her back pressed against the wall, arms covering and tightly holding her head. Her eyes were wide and cheeks were wet from fresh tears, she was hasping for air.

She was never attacked before, since begining she didn't know what was happening but this was madness, horror.

She loooked at stranger, shivering hard. He just killed this... Thing. What if he will kill her next.

"I do not have anything that would be valuable with me! Don't kill me!," Emily whimpered with voic full of fear.

Arthur tilted head aside and snorted shortly.

"I don't care. Come," he walked to her and offered his hand. "Unless you wanna rather stay here and wait for death."                

Emily blinked a few time, thinking about all of this. After a moment she nodded and wiped her eyes before taking stranger's hand.

There was no other hand, and she had to survive somehow, no matter what happened here. She had to trust him, looking at the situation from a minute ago she would never survive alone.

"What... What had happened here? I don't understand, one day everyone went crazy," Emily said as she followed the stranger.

He hushed her by raised hand. "Quiet or we will become their dinner."

He led her inside the clock tower and as soon as they passes threshold, Arthur made sure to lock door and push heavy drawer in front of them, just in case.

All the windows were covered with anything that was available then: rags, furniture, newspapers glued to glass.

She pressed her lips together and nodded, studying his face carefully. Emily had to admit he was a handsome man, she couldn't say his age but he wasn't old. She followed him.

Inside Big Ben, Emily looked around amazed and terrified. Emily looked at stranger waiting at the permission to speak.

"What were you doing out there, all alone, no weapon?," Arthur asked as he took a trip along the wooden stairs. "You had wanted to get your head cut off by their teeth?," he continued leading the way.

Emily watched him unsure what to say, finally, she found the right words. "What do you mean? I have no idea what was that... I guess I spend a too long time in this basement of mine," she said and quickly followed the man. "I just saw this madness and hid, I have no idea how long I spend there. When I left I simply packed some food, bandages and went to London. Is this some kind of government shelter? Or maybe you know how to get there... Oh! I am Emily, by the way," young woman smiled sweetly at the stranger.

"You have bandages? I'll need them," he said simply, he didn't pay more attention to her other words. "No. There's no government shelter. The government is dead by now I bet," Arthur growled as they approached the controlling room at the higher level of clock tower.

He opened door ans shifted aside to let Emily in. He followed her closing door behind him.

Emily looked around and nodded. "Yes, I have bandages and what do you mean, they are dead? What even happened? Is it the War Wold 3?"

She took off her jacket and bag and looked inside then back at the man.

"Come here... I will help you with whatever happened to you. I hope that my bandages will be enough."

"Don't," he growled deeply eyeing her. "I don't need your help, who you are, a fucking nurse?"

Arthur felt even worse now. The flu-like symptoms hit him more strongly than before. He sat down on the cot laying under the window, he rested back of his head against the wall and gasped. "No one knows," he said after moment of silence, "It just happened. People turned into killing machines. They attacked everyone on their way. Nothing could have stopped them, even a gun shot. Now I know only a headshot can take 'em down."

"You don't need my help so you don't need need my bandages, sir," Emily growled with a frown and went to find herself a nice place to sit. She found it in the corner of the room, she put the jacket on the floor and then sat down and looked at the man. "Sounds like zombies or something. So? We are stuck in a real-life horror movie? What now?"

"Can you shut your mouth for a bit, my head hurts," he told her coldly gazing up at her. "I just need them. And be grateful, I happened to save your life," Arthur said.

He felt rotten and didn’t know if he could find the strength to stand again and keep moving. Should he grab the revolver and shoot himself now? The sickness was worse.

Emily frowned and took the bandages out of her bag. She threw them to him with some little snack she had with herself. "Thank you," Emily whispered to not annoy him anymore.

Arthur had gotten up. For a few seconds he felt dizzy and was afraid he would be sick again, but it passed quickly. He moved to the side and waited until his thumping heart slowed.

He looked at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to be mean. I am scared and lost, just like you," man said.

Emily got up and slowly walked to him. "I am kinda used to this but fighting won't get us anyway. Come on, let me help you with whatevere happen. I am a vet but... bandaging man can't be harder than bandaging a dog," she shrugged with soft smile.

"It's gonna be rough tough," he said glaring at her. "I was bitten."

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

In which I nerd out about PS and portal windows.

THE GREEN TEXT WAS ATTRACTIVE. NOW VIEW THE RED TEXT AGAIN.

Oh god we’re going back to TG again.

John is 1000% done with all these huge logs.

TG: when the film crew zooms where the presidents at TG: im like if that dudes black ill eat my hat TG: turns out he is, so we're all "damn, director's got gumption" TG: like we'll all flip our shit he aint shining shoes or somethin TG: its called freemancipation. if its not pres-election its god-ascension TG: in bruce almighty. whoops, different bruce from the one i just mentioned EB: aaaaaarrrgh!

Oh my fucking god TG was still going on and on with his reality-shattering godraps. That is amazing.

He is creating the perfect pop culture amalgam in there, too! I said it before but TG, you are a treasure.

TG: cant explain to me why this aint condescension to think ill shit a brick TG: not even he can convey the intention with his quickspun wit TG: rather defray all this tension, sit on his lap while he whittles a splint TG: and some guy eyes what he does and patronizes: i guess negrocity's the mother of invention

I’m having an astral journey reading this.

TG, what in the actual fuck are you talking about??

You are the god of rambling I swear

EB: stop rapping for a second you horse's ass! EB: i have something important to talk about. TG: whats up EB: rose is in trouble and she needs help. i was going to connect to her with sburb but i lost my copy! TG: ok

Horse’s ass is a good insult.

Yeah I guess TG now has to bail her out after the car fuckup

EB: also she lost battery power. if she can get back up and running, she'll need someone with the game to get her out of there before her house burns down. EB: so i think you should use your copy of the game to help her! TG: my copy? TG: thats going to be tough

Oh no what will the shenanigans be this time.

EB: why? TG: i lost it TG: its a stupid story and id rather not talk about it TG: shit be embarrassing yo

Oh fucking hell.

Why are all the copies of this game getting lost so easily??? Take care of your videogames!!

What did you do to lose it, now I’m scared of whatever bullshit sequence of events transpired

EB: i thought you said you had two? TG: well yeah TG: one is my brothers copy EB: ok, well get his then! TG: alright TG: but hes not gonna be happy about that

Is this going to be like a Dad situation where there is an interactive boss? That was really great so I hope it is!

EB: whatever. EB: also you might want to read rose's walkthrough to get up to speed on this. TG: oh man EB: what? TG: nothing really TG: look all im saying is the girl tends to lay it on kinda thick you know? EB: /ROLLS EYES

Embrace the purple prose TG! Let it envelop you in its glorious overwritten radiance!

Ooh we’re back with the purple lady herself!

She needs to find an alternative energy source asap, to help John and be able to stay communicated, before she burns to death!

Your LAPTOP is out of BATTERY POWER. There's only one thing left to do. Time to make your way to that BACKUP GENERATOR.

Yup, figured it would end up being relevant.

Rose: Knit laptop cozy to shield your laptop from the rain.

...really?

Time managment is not really your strong point it seems.

Oh you already had one made!!

The heart octopus is just the best.

I remember her inventory system to be an unholy nightmare.

That would be such a waste of time! Besides, you already knitted one a while ago. You retrieve it from your KNITTING BAG and apply it to your LAPTOP. You captchalogue the LAPTOP PLUS COZY.

Cozy laptop is cozy!

Rose: Equip grimoire to strife specibus.

Ooh.

That could either result in getting arcane eldritch powers that man was not meant to know... or just a book to bludgeon people to death with.

Both seem worth it.

NOPE

I change my mind this just screams death.

That would be incredibly ill-advised! There are some dark forces you just don't want to mess around with. You understand this better than most. You put the book down.

I like the fact that Rose has an object with such dark and terrible powers even the inventory system  and the narrator are advising us to put it as far away as possible from anything resembling a weapon slot.

Was I correct in the eldritch powers thing??

Rose: Recaptchalogue your items!

Oh hello again you terrible, terrible captchalogue system.

You grab the KNITTING BAG and the GRIMOIRE, in that order. It's always a logistical puzzle with your TREE MODUS. The tree AUTO-BALANCES, leaving the KNITTING BAG accesible in the ROOT CARD.

Imagine having one of this in a real videogame.

Seems the kind of move Yoko Taro would do.

................That rithym minigame

Rose: Allocate knitting needles to strife specibus.

Eesh, that seems like a very nasty weapon by necessity.

You feel a lot more comfortable with this as a weapon. You're so handy with those needles, you feel like you could probably use them to filet a sword fish.

Damn, Rose could be fucking deadly with those.

Say goodbye to all the tender spots of flesh in your body.

John has it lucky with his captchalogue thing.

You lose the ROOT CARD in the process, severing the tree. Hey, careful with all that stuff!

Yeah let’s not break the laptop. Or the Necronomicon, Or both.

Rose: Knit plush cuddle-cthulhu to soothe nerves.

Greatest idea so far.

...it’s the actual necronomicon isn’t it.

That would also be a preposterous waste of time!!! Besides, you're quite sure you've never heard of this creature called "Cthulhu" before. There are however many other specimens of the ZOOLOGICALLY DUBIOUS you're familiar with. Such as...

Or this universe’s version of it at least.

Rose: Consult the grimoire.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT’S FLUTHLU!! WITH A BUNCH OF HORRIFYING BEASTS AROUND IT.

IN THE IMAGINARY CITY STREETS

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN, LAST TIME I SAW YOU, YOU GOT STABBED BY A VERY CHARISMATIC DETECTIVE AND BEHEADED BY A WINDOW PORTAL.

IN CASE YOU COULDN’T TELL, I REALLY APPRECIATE THE REFERENCE.

FLUTHLU, FOUL PATRICIAN OF MISERY. To hear his mammoth belly gurgle is to know the Epoch of Joy has come to an abrupt end

:D

Oh god, we get to see even greater elder gods now!!

Nrub’yiglith.... is that a reference to Shrub-Niggurath? Seems the most likely one to me.

And NRUB'YIGLITH, SHAMEBEAST KING OF GROTESQUERY, WRITHE-LORD OF THE MOIST BEYONDHOOD. Hearing his melodious chirps and tongue-clicks causes one's bones to explode.

WRITHE-LORD OF THE MOIST BEYONDHOOD!!

These descriptions are fucking amazing.

Oglogoth....Ok, this is definitely Azathoth, the daemon sultan.

Nice!

And of course there's OGLOGOTH, THE DEEP ONE. Whenever he grinds his teeth, all the children of a random galaxy somewhere will frown continuously for a nine thousand year span.

These fucking descriptions.... Holy shit give me 500 of these.

He is the first and smallest of the SMALLER GODS, appointed in servitude of a vile, unfathomable pantheon of MIDDLING GODS which caters to the whims of the NOBLE CIRCLE OF HORRORTERRORS, an omniscient, omnipotent order of the elite few, forever cloaked in the darkness of the FURTHEST RING.

What the fuck???

So in the homestuck universe, Azathoth is just a scrub! There are a whole three tiers above him in power!

The noble circle of horrorterrors, cloaked in the darkness of the furthest ring...

Someone should make a story with all this lore, or use it in a DnD campaign. Some of this is legitimately really good.

OH MY GOD

THE WINDOW PORTALS. THEY ARE OUTLINED HERE AS WELL.

And then there's this strange page containing some rather mysterious notes on summoning procedures. You've never been quite sure what these diagrams are getting at.

.....of course they are the summoning rituals!!

They lead to the imaginary city and if you cut their power while you are outside an eldritch being appears!!

Flutulhu was summoned after a city-wide blackout, so I wonder what would be needed for oglogoth... I was going to say a planet-wide blackout, but the imaginary city is.....all that exists over there, alongside the four realms and the cathedral/brothel/sun and moon/GPI, and all the other cosmology.

Maybe if you were outside a window during the last supermassive black hole?? That is probably the most pitch black you could ever get while in the imaginary world....

[damienthepious]

>:3c hey i got two this week. happy LKT babes!!

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 3)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [ao3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery,  Hurt/Comfort,  (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Sir Damien and Rilla discuss the issue at hand.

Chapter Notes: did u want: canon typical Damien spiraling? <3

~~

Arum is stable, the offending injury has been cleaned again and sealed and dressed and hopefully, hopefully, this time it will actually start to heal. Rilla’s mind buzzes, exhaustion and adrenaline and the satisfaction of a problem solved. That little shard of black talon (definitely talon, now that she’s seen it up close; add the satisfaction of a called shot, too) is safely and carefully stashed away in a clean sealed vial for later analysis, where it can’t do any more harm. And Arum-

The sedative probably won’t wear off for hours. Probably for the best, considering how exhausted he was before he went under. It’s probably just her imagination, just wishful thinking, but he looks… calmer. Like his sleep is more restful, now, than it had been. Imagination or no, she takes some satisfaction in that, too.

Rilla washes her hands, splashes her face, and when she meets her own eye in the little mirror above her washbasin she sees the bags under her eyes and the hair clouding around her face and the manic tilt to her expression and she- laughs.

Damien. Oh, Damien-

What the hell is she going to do about him?

She could be irritated with him just for coming into her exam room, whether or not the door was locked, but- well, it’s not like he wouldn’t have some rule breaking to throw back in her face. She sighs, dragging her palm over her mouth and noting the visible exhaustion that’s making her shoulders sag.

Well. No point putting it off, right?

She checks on Arum one more time, resettling the blankets more securely around his shoulders, ensuring that he’s warm enough, leaving a cup of water beside the bed in case he wakes before she does (whatever happens with Damien, however she gets him out of her hair, she’s going to get some sleep after this, she needs to).

Dead asleep, still, but- he mutters something, some whispery wordlessness as the back of her hand presses to his forehead to make sure his temperature is still consistent, and the breathy murmur and the way his resting expression goes even softer makes Rilla gently smile before she can help herself, and her brain is still buzzing as she thinks, rest well, you ridiculous monster, and heal.

She steps away from the cot, and she sighs, then. This next part is going to be unpleasant.

Damien is pacing in a straight line when she exits the exam room, turning on his heel to keep going in the same stuck path before he registers that she’s joining him, and then his eyes widen.

“Oh my heart, you are safe! Oh, my dearest Rilla, I was terrified that you had been- I felt only moments from bolting in to ensure that you had not been-”

“Damien. I wasn’t in danger,” she says, keeping her voice low and gesturing for Damien to follow her as she steps away from the door to the exam room, away from the possibility of waking Arum accidentally. Her hut isn’t that big, and it’s not like they could have this conversation outside, but they can at least stand in the kitchen, a little ways away where they won’t literally be shouting (she assumes they’ll end up shouting, frankly) so damn close to Arum.

“I know you are terribly brave, my love,” Damien says as he stumbles behind. “But surely even you must understand- I do not know what sort of- of experiment you are intending to run, but I must advise-”

“He’s not an experiment,” Rilla growls, bristling because she already, already regrets the brief window during which she… did kind of think of him that way. He deserves better than that.

“Regardless, regardless of the why, it cannot continue, surely you must understand that. The danger- the danger the creature presents, to yourself, to any other patients you may have, to the Citadel itself! Rilla surely you can see that it must be destroyed-”

“You’re not touching him, Damien. He’s my patient-”

“It is a monster-”

“Yeah, I gathered that Damien, thanks, but you still aren’t touching him. He’s my patient, and he’s one of a kind, and he’s not gonna hurt me. If he wanted to, he definitely already would have tried something. He’s still weak as hell but he’s stubborn and he would have tried, if he really wanted.”

“Of course the monster wants to hurt you, my precious flower. That is simply what monsters do.”

Rilla scowls hard, turning away from him to pull the curtains aside, realizing with no small degree of wonder that it’s dark outside again. Already. Already? Before she woke Arum to discuss pulling the talon out, she’s sure it couldn’t have been much past sunrise. Saints she needs to sleep. But before she can-

“Damien, I’m gonna put this as simply as I can. He is my patient. That means that it’s my job to take care of him, and to make sure he’s safe and that his injuries are treated. I’m finally at a point where I’m making progress, and-”

“Finally,” Damien echoes, his brow furrowing as his thoughts churn. “Finally? How long have you- how long has this been going on, precisely?”

“Few days,” Rilla says, noncommittal. She- she isn’t quite sure, anymore. She’s been keeping hourly notes, coded longhand, but she’d put it on pause for the surgery, and-

“So,” he says, sounding pained, “when I came to you last, and asked-”

“I lied,” she says flatly. “I lied, because I knew you would respond like this.”

“I am attempting to do my duty, my love. I must protect you and every citizen of the Citadel, must cleanse the monsters' blight upon this land-”

“Not this monster,” Rilla says. “Not him. He doesn’t need cleansing.” She grins, a little wildly. “I already disinfected him pretty thoroughly.”

“You cannot jest about this, Rilla. Surely, surely you know I cannot allow this, it is-”

“Treason?”

Damien blanches, his face going vaguely ashen, and his voice is near-mournful when he answers. “Rilla, my heart, my forever-flower you know that I would never accuse you of something so vile-”

“Even if it’s technically true?”

Damien’s entire expression freezes, as if she has stabbed him. “You can’t mean that. You wouldn’t-”

“He was hurt, Damien,” Rilla says. “And I’m a doctor. I’m just doing my job, as far as I’m concerned. But I very much doubt that the Citadel will see it that way.”

“He is a monster, my love- he could- he could do anything to you, he could kill you or steal you away or-”

Rilla rolls her eyes. “Or lie in bed complaining about the fact that he’s too weak to even stand. Oh no. Whatever will I do to defend myself against the constant annoyance of monsterkind.”

“Rilla you have seen as well as I have the cruelties done by its ilk, the violence and pain! Any benevolence must be a trick, it must be, meant to lull you into a false sense of safety around such a dangerous beast! A devious machination, meant to make you lower your guard for the moment he will strike and then what, my dearest love? What will happen, when you, with your gentle miraculous healing hands, deliver the beast back to strength enough that he may enact his plan? Oh Saint Damien protect us, what will happen when he has been healed enough to harm again? What then, my Rilla?”

“He’s not gonna hurt me,” Rilla says, entirely dismissive. “He won’t. He-” she interrupts herself with a deep yawn, jaw going wide as tears pop into her eyes. “Oh, Saints. I thought I could have this argument right now but I absolutely can’t, Damien. Can you please just trust me, at least enough not to do anything tonight? Go back to the Citadel and we can talk about this in the morning. Right now, I’ve barely slept since I found him, and now that I think I’ve finally dealt with the worst of it and got him stable- I could really use a frickin’ nap.”

“No,” Damien says, slashing his hand through the air. “No, I refuse to leave you helpless and unprotected while that- that creature-”

“My patient.”

“Awaits a moment of weakness! Awaits a moment of vulnerability, wherein he may creep close and destroy you, or curse you, or- or any number of terrible intentions that could come to pass the very instant your mind is settled into well-deserved rest, my love. I cannot stand idly by while-”

“Oh for Saints’ sake, Damien, he’s sedated. He’s not going to slit my throat in my sleep. I promise.”

“It could all be a trick, Rilla. Even with your brilliant mind- the machinations of monsterkind are often more clever than one would expect, and what if this is all some scheme? You are a genius, my Rilla, the greatest doctor in all of the Citadel, and certainly the monsters at large are aware of your prowess, are aware of how many precious lives you have personally gentled back to the realm of the living after countless heinous beasts have expended their most vicious effort to send them to their grave! A doctor of your skill and status- surely monsterkind must be desperate to remove your ferocious protective presence from thwarting their attempts-”

“Damien. First, please try to keep your volume down. I know this is- stressful for you, but the hut is small and the yelling is- not helpful. Second- it’s really flattering that you think they’d pay that much attention to me but I really think you’re overreacting.” She takes a moment to breathe, then sighs quite deeply. “Look, if you’re so worried about it, you can stay here for the night.” She smiles gently, reaching a hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sure you already had a long day before coming over here. Come to bed with me? If it’ll make you feel better, if it’ll make you feel like I’m safer, you know that I love sleeping with your arms around me-”

“I cannot lie idle and sleeping while such a beast rests but one room over, Rilla! I cannot sleep at all while it remains a threat-”

Rilla sighs and drops her hand. “Fine, Damien, fine. If you don’t want to rest with me, then you don’t have to, but I am going to bed and you are not touching my patient. Understand me?” She glares, and the force of her ire could knock Damien to the floor. His mouth goes dry, his words freezing. “If you undo any of my hard work I will not forgive you for that. Do you understand me? I will not forgive you,” she says in a low voice, and Damien swallows. “I don’t care if you wanna sit and guard the door, that’s annoying but it won’t hurt anything, but don’t you dare interrupt his rest.” She pauses. “Or mine, for that matter. Now if you’ll excuse me, Sir Damien?”

She gives him a tight, angry sort of smile, then excuses herself towards her bedroom, her shoulders already sagging again with the weight of her exhaustion, and Damien’s heart aches for her, aches for her to be safe and rested and in his arms-

But he must do his duty, first. He must protect her.

Damien paces outside the door to the room the monster currently occupies, his mind roiling and racing and terrified, and he whispers low for guidance. Rilla’s hut is not particularly large, and he has learned his lesson many times that if he prays as he naturally wishes to, he will keep his beloved from sleep rather effectively, and he does not wish to anger her any further just now. So: whispers. Saint Damien will hear him just as well, anyway. It is only for the throbbing in his own heart that his volume yearns to rise.

A monster. A monster, and his beloved Rilla so determined to see it healthy again. One of a kind- and certainly that is even more of a danger than if this were some ordinary ogre, is it not? What tricks might this beast possess? He could have any magic, and skill, any trick up his sleeve-

“What if it is is not sleeping?” He whispers, eyes sharp on the door as he paces, compulsively drawing his bow, the curve of it feeling like safety in his hand. “What if it is already scheming, already creeping towards my Rilla’s room?” His volume is rising, he can barely control it, he tries, but the words are a deluge he caught up in, helpless, helpless. “What if it is already crawling close to her bedside while she breathes light and lovely into her pillow and then it smiles a demon’s smile in the dark and it laughs at her precious kindness and then at last it raises a savage claw-”

Damien chokes a breath, pressing a hand hard over his heart and another over his mouth. No. No, he is between the beast and his beloved. He would have seen- he would know. That- that is merely his fear taking him by the throat. He must stand tranquil against it.

“Saint Damien- oh Saint Damien please,” he murmurs low, wringing his hands and trying, oh trying to slow his breathing. “Please your tranquility my Saint, I must be tranquil if I am to keep her safe, as she deserves to be-”

Rilla forbade him from harming her “patient.” Forbade him from disturbing its rest, as absurd as that is (what foul dreams fill a monster’s mind in repose? What passes for peace in such a violent, chaotic creature?). But-

She did not forbid him from entering the room. Did she?

He considers that. He looks to Rilla’s bedroom door, closed tight against him.

No- not closed tight. If he abandons his charge to protect her and goes to lay by her side, he is certain that she will gather him up in her arms and her bed and soon he will be blessed to hold her soft and lightly snoring in his arms. She is angry with him, in some misguided way, but she did not lock the door. She would not lock him out.

She did not lock him out of the room where the monster coils, either, though.

He ponders, for a few moments longer, before the thought springs unbidden again- the monster, slipping off of Rilla’s examination cot, slithering across the floor, up the walls, over the ceiling-

What powers it may have, Damien does not know. Camouflage? The ability to creep, silent? He does know of the viciously sharp claws this creature possesses, the jagged teeth that showed in his slackly open mouth-

What if it is attempting to escape?

Out the window, yes, and then- anywhere. It could slither off to find cohorts, other beasts with which to return, to raze Rilla’s cozy, humble home to the ground. It could slink around the side of the hut, could find another window- Rilla’s window, could insinuate itself back inside and-

Another deep, shaking breath.

No. Even if the creature is silent, Damien will hear the pane of glass shatter, if the creature escapes.

He cannot simply-

Damien cannot-

Every moment it is unoccupied, his mind will spin. It will tumble down into the darkness of catastrophe, will show him newer and darker possibilities, and so long as he does not know, not for certain, what the monster is doing in there, Damien will be trapped by these feelings, these foul potentialities.

He must enter. He must have his eyes on this beast. It cannot possibly harm Rilla nor anyone else, if he has it safely under his scrutiny.

And Rilla did not forbid him from entering.

He has one hand on the knob of the door, one on his bow, and he creaks the wood open. His entire frame tenses for the strike, whether that strike be his own or the leaping of the monster, but no such strike occurs. It is dim, in the room. Dim, and still, and quiet.

It is mostly quiet, anyway. After a pause, the door ajar but not yet passed through, Damien recognizes the slow, soft noise of breath, coming from inside. He frowns, but he supposes that it is better, is it not, to know that the beast is still where he can keep an eye upon it. If he had opened this door and it was still as death, and there were no noises of life whatsoever- certainly that would have been a more frightening outcome.

Damien takes a step, and then another, and he leaves his hand on the knob as he suspiciously enters this shadowed place.

Still, no attack comes. The light pouring in through the doorframe illuminates enough that Damien can see the shape on the cot, a long figure curled slightly on its side, covers shifting slowly above its chest.

The monster breathes.

It is repellent. This creature, this vile thing soft-sleeping here in a room meant for human healing, for care, for the comfort of his lovely Rilla’s talents and compassion, it is abhorrent. And Damien knows that Rilla is compassionate, oh certainly she is, but this- this? Certainly, certainly, love, there must be some limits, mustn’t there?

The monster breathes and sleeps and does not move, and Damien is even more nervous, even more furious than he was before.

He paces, but the sound of his shoes clicking on the floor sets his teeth on edge. What- what if his noise wakes the creature? If it attacks him, certainly it would be justifiable, to retaliate. Of course it would. But-

Rilla warned him not to disturb the creature’s rest.

So, until she wakes again, at least, he will not.

There is a stool, close beside the bed. When he had entered earlier, Rilla had been perched just in front of it with her hands on the beast, as if she had been seated at some point, and slowly edged forward in tension and focus until she had hovered entirely away.

If Damien wishes to sit, he is going to need to come close enough to the beast to take the seat for himself.

He takes each step across the floor as if it could be rigged with traps, as if more monsters might leap from any given shadow. This… proves unjustified. Yet again Damien is unmolested by monstrous intent, and when he comes close by the bed he stares down at the creature.

Evil. Evil made manifest. Long limbs hidden beneath layers of cloth, sharp claws obscured, the angularity of that body made slack and strange by sleep, that reptilian face-

The monster’s mouth hangs just slightly open, the tips of sharp fangs barely, barely visible behind his thin lips, the ridged line of his brow softened, the low light gleaming on his colorful, mottled scales-

Damien’s jaw tightens. He picks up the stool and moves it away from the bed, moves it to the corner nearest the door, and he perches up upon it facing the bed with a hand on his bow and a scowl set on his face.

The monster does not wake for this, either.

He scowls for quite some time, until his cheeks are a little bit sore. Then he settles into a glare, his determination too strong to be unsettled by boredom. This is only a trick, regardless of the way this creature looks- fragile, curled there on Rilla’s examination cot. More of his scales are bandaged than not, from what Damien saw earlier, when Rilla was working upon him, and the frill at his neck is nearly in tatters, one of his elegantly curved horns cracked (Damien wonders if that is the sort of thing that heals- not that this creature will have time to find that out, of course), and even despite the undeserved serenity of sleep this monster looks exhausted.

A trick. All of it a trick, of course.

… but a very, very convincing one.

[->]

[glass-neo-alchemist]

Hey pal, about the fic requests: how about some good ol Frankenstein and Jekyll butting heads over something? I just need to see them argue about anything rn...

eyyy here we are again

Tap

The woman’s tapping had grown incessant.

A consistent and continuous tap tap tap had followed Doctor Jekyll into the attic and had yet to seis in the nearing fifteen minutes of, ‘how long have you been staying awake in the past nights?’ And ‘Have you thrown up any more blood in the last evening?’ And the ‘How well have you kept down your food?’

While all of his questions pertaining to the very fragile health of the mad scientist were met with the usual scorn and sarcasm, the rhythmic and unending tapping had been a new one.

Doctor Henry Jekyll was about five seconds away from tearing Frankenstein’s hand off from her wrist.

To his credit, the good doctor had tried a variety of ways to get her to stop, or at the least bit, get her to channel that energy to something quieter. At the first request, she had grinned ear to ear at his annoyance and considerably quickened the pace at which she tapped. While she did slow down back to her normal tempo after a few minute, the tapping itself, did not stop.

While Henry was measuring out her medication, pouring out Isoniazid into a thin tube, he made the unfortunate decision to comment on how it might have been a bit easier to measure without the distraction. This was absolutely the wrong thing to say as the mad woman took it upon herself to get up from her bed and sit down at the chair at the other end of his work table, and start tapping on it as he measured.

For the momentary glances Edward Hyde took upon his other half, the encounter was enough for him to find the need to appear in the mirror against the wall and cackle loud enough to momentarily silence the tapping.

Tap, tap, tap, tap

“Miss Frankenstein, please, I would greatly appreciate it if you would cease.” This time Jekyll shot a glare to the woman. She glared back.

“I’ll stop whenever the hell I want to stop,” she paused and looked away.

“And that’s Doctor Frankenstein to you.”

Jekyll’s hand stilled on the gas knob he was adjusting, set his hand down on the table, drummed his fingers against the wood, once, before turning to the woman with a pleasant smile on his face.

“Remind me once again, mam, how many years of medical school did you finish?” the woman at the table shoot the man a pointed glare as she spits out “Four” as if the word was venom on her tongue.

Doctor Jekyll looked to the side and hummed, questioning, before saying.

“Now I’m not quite sure, but if I remember correctly, you never did finish that fourth year…” he trailed off, glancing back to the, now positively steaming, scientist at the other end of the table.

“And where was it you heard that, Jekyll? A book you read!” she spit. Henry feigned innocence as he put a hand above his heart in mock shock.

“I’d beg you not to call me untruthful mam, after all that was the only source of information about yourself. But please, you would know better, I’ll ask you, how many years did you finish? Miss Frankenstein?” the look Frankenstein shot the doctor could curdle milk.

“I spent three years and a semester at the stuffy-as-hell university of Ingolstadt, before setting out to complete my greatest work!-”

“Ah-ah-ah miss Frankenstein, you just admitted,” Henry cut off, which in retrospect was probably a bad idea. He got up from his chair to face the woman fully.

“You are still a semester away from becoming a doctor.” Frankenstein fumed as she finally stopped her dreadful tapping. She used the table as a crutch as she stood up from her chair.

“I am a doctor, through and through, I never needed a stuffy university full of old men thinking they’re better than you to tell me that.” Her voice was low as she glared up to the taller man. “I created life!” the creature, who had been in the corner for the duration of Jekyll’s stay (offering no assistance to the good doctor) and reading a book, rolled his eyes at Frankenstein’s statement.

“No matter how much you ‘feel’ like a doctor doesn’t matter if you never finished learning how to be one.” Jekyll stated flatly. “Finish that second semester and I’ll call you a doctor all you like.” Frankenstein scoffed. Jekyll sat back down in his chair to measure out the rest of the solution.

“And to do that, you must survive the illness I’m treating you for.”

Frankenstein bared her teeth in a grimace as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“Stuffy Doctor Jekyll, I’ll bet you positively adored collage, you’d fit right in.”

“I did enjoy collage, actually, I enjoyed learning new things, meeting people, people I’m still close with even this many years after-”

“Enjoyed not doing anything exciting, nothing out of bound, not breaking rules, living like a doll in a doll house without any meaning, just another painted gentlemen.” Henry’s hand stilled for a moment at the end of her sentence, before taking a silent breath in and continuing his work.

“I have done plenty of exciting things in my lifetime.”

“More like I have!” Hyde poked his head out from the mirror again, mildly amused by the banter.

Jekyll desperately thought ‘shut up’ at the specter despite the fact he knew well Hyde couldn’t hear him even if he wanted to.

“Name one.”

Henry was a little upset at himself for seriously considering telling the madwoman about Mocant. However his silent pondering was taken as a lack of answers by Frankenstein as she barked out a laugh.

“I knew it! All you are, and all you ever will be is a wanna-be mad scientist! No matter how much you learn about chemical and equations will never come close to what a real scientist feels when experimenting! When unraveling the secrets of the universe!” she shouted, fist in the air and a grin on her face. She laughed and dropped her fist, leveling her grin to a smirk.

“You, Henry Jekyll, will never be a true mad scientist.”

Henry Jekyll had had enough.

For a moment the good doctor simply closed his eyes. A moment later he heard the sound of shattering glass and his eyes flew open as he shook the broken glass from his glove.

“Shit.” He had shatter the vile he was holding. Frankenstein barked out a laugh

“Tempter tempter Jekyll, how vulgar! Don’t tell me I actually managed to get under your skin?-”

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” the grin had not dropped from her face

“Shut up. Shut up!”

“Really Jekyll, that’s no way to talk-”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Fuck!” Henry got up so fast his chair fell to the ground.

“What do you know! You don’t know me! You don’t know what I’ve done!” he shouted “Doctor Frankenstein you were my idol as a child! I wanted to be just like you! A mad scientist! As a child I would cut up animals and sew them make together with my mother’s sewing thread to be just like you!” Frankenstein’s eyebrows raised on her forehead in surprise.

“I am trying to help these people, all these scientists! And you come in! My childhood idol! And you are intent to burn it to the ground faster than I can build it!” the good doctor had started to pace the room, Frankenstein watching his movement with a frozen grin and wide eyes on her face.

“I just want to help these people! I just want to be good for them, so they can do all the things we couldn’t without fearing for our lives! I didn’t want any of this to happen! I just wanted to be good! I didn’t know what would happen!” Henry felt much too stuffy, like his skin was being compressed and his skull itched. He stopped and fell backwards against the wall, hands covering his face.

“Doctor Jekyll?” came the uncharacteristically quiet voice of Frankenstein.

“What must you mock me for now?” he mumbled.

“What exactly have you gone and done to yourself now?” she questioned, Henry groaned

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea what it is you’re referring to mam.” he muttered behind his hands. The voice of the creature finally bounced around the small room for the first time since the good doctor had entered almost twenty five minutes ago.

“Mister Hyde?”

Henry’s hands flew from his face to jerk his face to the Creature in the corner, also glancing at the mirror in the process and his heart dropped to his stomach.

At some point Edward must have come out of the mirror as his signature green-blue smoke filled the room, however Mr. Hyde himself was nowhere in sight. Looking at the mirror Jekyll knew something was terribly wrong with his own reflection.

He still for the most part looked himself, however as he had pulled at his hair it seemed to have grown out with the pull of his fingers, the roots were streaking into blond tuffs. His clothes had started to look much too big on him, and most startling of all was the acid green that stared back at him in surprise.

Doctor Henry Jekyll didn’t even stop to say goodnight as he sprinted out the door.