#tasty bad end

[skumhuu]

✨👑 Throne 👑✨ pages 7-8

Beginning

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[see-arcane]

The Man I Love is Dead

Summary: Jonathan Harker died in Transylvania.

This hardly means the wedding is off.

The man I love is dead.

I only suspected when the letters stopped. I dreaded when the doctor revealed the monster in our midst, that ancient name that had called the man I love away to such benign work across the water and into frigid mountains. I knew when the monster announced it outright. He knew my name from the letters sent, the letters forged. What happy coincidence, he said. He had read my fiancé’s words with a secondhand admiration. Now here she was, I was, proving myself so worthy of the young man left caged in his stone walls and high peaks.

“Do not doubt that he tried, Madam,” he hummed, blood on his tongue and forced onto mine. “Do not doubt that he died doing anything less than trying to return to you. A fine young man, such good company. I arranged a handsome coffin for him before I left. Only the best for my dear friend.”

The others arrived in a tide of panic and hate, bursting onto the tete-a-tete with the monster’s breast still bleeding, his great hand still caging my head. He left the room as a laughing shadow. I screamed after him, at the men, demanding action. Give me a pistol, someone, anyone! Let me end him!

They did not, I could not. Too quick and too strong. Yet he ran, the monster. Cowardice? Or a lure? It did not matter. Our mission was set. Missions. Theirs to avenge the other love lost in my life and save the future from the horror’s appetite. Mine for the only man I love, the only life I wanted to live. He had poisoned me with his blood, the doctor claimed. There is more than one way to join his ranks and his hold. We race against the clock as my will comes nearer to vanishing, my soul to the brink of damnation, my teeth to the throats of those nearest.

Even so.

The man I love is dead.

For that, be I woman or devil by the time we reached his native soil, the monster would still have to answer for that. If I am to be another pet, I will bite.

I can sense what he does now. The monster. Where he goes, what he hears, even secure in his damned box once more. It is enough to sketch a plan. The doctor assures us that he will not be the lone threat once we reach the haunted homeland. He will have aides, living and undead. He is a would-be tyrant, coveting subjects, and so he will have a colony already waiting for us.

My friends will pursue the coffin and its guards. The doctor and I, shielded in his arcane protections, will cut ahead toward the castle. We shall ambush the ambush.

The castle is a titanic structure, ruined enough at its edges to be a mountain unto itself. In it, I feel an answering gleeful wretchedness that mirrors the shift in myself. Like sensing like. We cannot reach it before sundown, and so the doctor shields us in his holy circle of crumbs, arms laden with the flotsam of God. It seems to do its job when the Thing’s brides come. My sisters. Beautiful and cold, moonbeams and teeth.

The doctor is so busy with his Wafers and crosses inside our circle that he does not notice the bridegroom. My revolver becomes pointless lead in my hand.

He does not glide on the air as the brides do, only strolls, delicate and effortless as a spider, never denting the snow, up to us. His hair has gone white since dying, his eyes the luster of old wounds. The smile is as I remember it. Tender despite the new edges inside. He frowns suddenly at my forehead. It is still scarred from the Wafer.

“Who hurt you so? Who would burn your sweet brow?” The eyes, hungry garnets, roll to the doctor who has finally turned to look. “Was it him? The one who wishes us all destroyed?”

The doctor makes noise. Wafers and crosses. The bridegroom curls his lip, but steps closer. My handful is lighter.

“That is the purpose here, yes? To unmake us when the sun is up and we are prone in our beds. Your sisters. Myself. We are afterthoughts to him. Even if he and the others do not end us tonight, ending our maker will do for us all.”

He stands at the lip of the circle now. They cannot cross in any more than I can cross out. So he kneels, as the doctor makes more noise and waves his rubbish. He’s spared a hand to pull at me. When did I kneel?

“We rest in a chapel. If you wish me to die again, then I would ask you to recite the vows for me there, once all is over. As much as God will allow us to recite, lest His name scorch our tongues too deeply.”

More noise from the doctor. Why does he bellow so? Ah, I think he is speaking of my friend. The one they unmade in her tomb. For her own good. It is for his own good, the doctor says now, as all this Hell has been for our good, for my good, for everyone’s good. Look away, Madam, look away!

The bridegroom lifts his left hand and the gold band shines. He has kept it on since I first slipped on my engagement ring.

“If you cannot remove my body on the morning, please,” he slips the ring free, “keep this with you once you are cured.” Without breaking our gaze, he tosses the ring into our circle. The hand not cradling the revolver catches it. Squeezing until the gold cuts my palm. “It must be enough.”

The doctor pulls me away, stands me up. Look away! Madam, look away—

I am looking away. I cannot bring myself to look twice at the doctor, a bridge of flesh leading out of the ring while a trickle of blood steams from the new hole between his eyes.

In the chapel, we wait and dream. All our senses are the monster’s, and we know the hunter and the hunted are close. It will be a surprise to all when they discover who is who as the castle pours us loose. Meanwhile, the coffins have been arranged aside, the pulpit dusted of its rot and webs. The brides are eager to be bridesmaids. More eager still for the reception and its delicacies. The bridegroom is content to be with me, and I with him.

The man I love is dead.

We will die and love together.

Ao3 link

[grinchwrapsupreme]

spending 1.5 episodes on confirming that Alan has spent the past 4 years being haunted by his own suicide and desperately trying to move past it without knowing how was NOT ENOUGH

[thisgodwontforgiveyou]

original re4 was already like really playing with fire with how it treated ada i think it ultimately gets away with a C- just because they got so scared and shivering about this exact thing that they made separate ways a painstaking legal defense about how exactly ada did everything and was dope as fuck but this is just like. shameful

[emiliosandozsequence]

i want pizza so bad, but i always regret it when i eat it.

[lmelodie]

Bad Ending AU pt.2 (Finding Peace)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (Epilogue)

Oops! Its nearly twice as long as part one!

This part is to frankly answer my own questions of: "Hey where the FUCK is Killian's actual best friend in this terrible terrible universe? She would never allow this kind of self-destructive behavior!"

And it's true, she wouldn't. So where is Chimera? Simply put: Not in the picture anymore.

And here is why:

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, it's all over. 

Lucy raced down the cold and empty hallway in a mad dash to find the council. Jack no doubt keeping them somewhere hidden away where no one would look for them.

But she didn't have to search for long before the sound of a loud bang rang out from a corridor she just passed. She turned on her heels to see none other than Mother Nature storming out of the hallway, frost sticking to her shoulders, on the war path of the century in pursuit of Jack. The rest of the council follows closely on her heels, leaving the broken remains of two heavy and no-longer-locked wooden doors broken off of their hinges. Seven relics of a bygone era brought back from the icy grave.

Lucy leads them to where the struggle had ended. Killian still sitting on the floor next to an unconscious Jack.

Everyone was quick to jump into action starting damage control, as Killian himself was immediately placed under arrest for the role he played in all of this. He and Lucy filled in the council on what they missed for the past 715 years, as he was led away in cuffs. 

And it was Lucy’s own testament in the end that actually got him a far lighter sentence than what he was going to receive. Most definitely far less than what he deserved. At his trial Lucy was to act as a key witness to Killian’s actions with dismantling Jack’s powergrid so to speak. She spoke freely and highly of all of his efforts in the three years that she’s known him. He helped her learn how to use magic and helped to provide a safe place for her and her family to hide from Jack’s prying eyes. She attested to the fact that he was the only reason why any of the council were standing unfrozen to have this trial today. The only reason why Jack is no longer going to be any more of an issue. 

And with such a compelling argument, he was sentenced to twenty years jail time, with an indefinite amount of time of parole afterwards. He was also put on a number of security threat lists for most of, if not all, the realms, had many of his shadowmancing licenses revoked, and had his fair share of judicial rights confiscated because of his actions in staging a legendary coop. 

But he got off easy. Some disliked this ruling, others despised it. But whatever the case, Killian himself was just happy that this was finally over and done with. He took his sentence in stride, as a little vacation more than anything else. Time to clear his head. Set himself straight again.

And it's not like he didn't get plenty of visitors from family and friends alike. Lucy being one of the more frequent visitors. 

............................................................................

“If I didn't know better I’d say you seemed disappointed,” he said through the glass pane.

Lucy sat on the opposite side of the surface, twenty years old but carried an air of being far older. Weathered and world weary at such a ripe age.

“I am,” she said. “I want you to be out here.”

“You know that was never going to happen. I thought I taught you to be realistic, Scarecrow.”

“Need I remind you of the power of hope, Boogeyman? Way more powerful than people think. I like a good bout of wishful thinking.”

“Twenty years ain't so bad ya know,” he explains. “Leaps and bounds better than what they were planning on giving me. A thousand years at least.”

Lucy's eyes found a spot on the floor, dejectedly unable to look at him  “It's not a long time for you, but it is for me. For people like me…who dont live very long lives.”

Killian physically deflates when he understands what she’s getting at.

“Twenty years is a long time,” she continues. “And I want you to be out here, seeing what we're gonna be doing. How were gonna undo 700 years worth of damage. Seeing the world heal. I want you to see that.”

“I will,” he quietly said. “I will when I get out. After that I'll have all the time in the world to see what you’ve done with the place. Great things I'm sure.”

“I want you to be there.”

“I can't be. I aided a criminal.”

“You defeated a tyrant.”

“Dont go giving a dead man so much credit.”

“But that's what he was! That's what he was to so many people,” she declared. “I'm being ‘realistic’.”

“So am I,” he shot back, “There was no way I was going to get out of something like this and I'm fine with that! I am going to be perfectly fine here. Sky’s above knows I could use the time to try and start unpacking… a lot of things. Everything, more like. I have a feeling doing my time isn't gonna be a waste.”

Lucy looked at him almost in pity. She doesn't have any retort knowing that he’s ultimately right. A break would be good for him. But for her it’ll be more than a break, a good chunk of her life with him behind a piece of glass in a maximum security prison. The thought, no matter how right it is, just doesn't sit well with her. 

“Don't go doing any of that,” Killian snapped at the soured expression on her face. “Neither of us are gonna miss a thing when you're required to visit at least once a week. Twenty years will go by so fast you won't even notice.”

Her smile was sad and small, but a genuine smile nonetheless, “Of course,” she sighed, “Twenty years? Bring it on.”

............................................................................

But while Killians trial was speedy and somewhat unanimous, it was Jack, like always, that was giving Mother Nature trouble. As soon as they found him, Jack’s body was temporarily moved to a secure healing facility in The Citadel as a means of keeping an eye on his vitals before deciding how he should be further handled. 

The council members, and even Lucy herself all had their own ideas about how to “store” Jack away since he should be unconscious for the rest of the foreseeable future. Father Time insisted that Mother Nature be the one to make the final call on what to do with him, and pushed her to handle it as soon as possible. 

But she quietly refused. Kept him in the healing bay while she found something else of great importance to worry about. 

Jack was the only holder of winter magic on earth. She noticed right away that if he’s to remain asleep then there will be no one to bring about the season of winter. 

So instead of unpacking the implications of her estranged son freezing her solid, taking her job and nearly destroying magical society, she switched gears. Burry all of that deep under the frozen ground for now while she tries to fix the most important problems at hand. Much to Father Time’s and Lucy’s chagrin.

She ordered the inspection of Jacks’ main home and other properties to find and retrieve any magical items of his own making. Crystals packed with ice blasts, snow blanketing enchantments, anything and everything that would give them access to a small portion of his power. Even the public was called upon to give up any products of his they might have purchased, under the guarantee that they will be reimbursed for the item tenfold if they did so.

Once these items were assembled, the council had put together a team of the finest magical/mechanical engineers in all the realms. Put in charge of creating something that will spit out the appropriate levels of winter magic, to see to it that the season comes and goes in Jack’s stead. It took most of the year, and almost cut it a bit close near the end of autumn, but it was eventually made.

A tall column with a large base in the very center of a decked out summoning circle was erected in Jack’s realm; In a clearing in the evergreen forest. The column and the spell circle on the floor had what seemed to be a million and one sigils carved into them in regular intervals, glowing a phosphorus blue. The flared base of the column expertly hid the myriad of wires connecting all of the winter centric items together.

Hovering in the air above the tip of the column was a huge diamond shaped crystal that shone in the same color. Occasionally admitting a few blasts of blue bolts to satisfy the natural order.

One history altering feat of engineering later, and winter was now fully automated.

Which now leaves the bit Mother Nature didn't want to think about; What to finally do with Jack? They can't try him at all, he can't carry out any sentence he isn't already serving. There's only so many options for the comatose body of a former dictator. 

She didn't have the time, but mostly the courage to face the thing that he’s become. The thing she didn't even get to witness herself. She tried her damndest to put any kind of grief on the back burner, she reasoned that he was already too far gone when this happened. He was the only one she had, but he hasn't been her son in a very long time.

Which is why her typhoon of grief confused her so much. Why should she feel bad for him? She doesnt know this man, not any son of hers, nothing of her own blood and magic. She shouldn't feel anything for him. And yet this terrible cloud that keeps knocking at her door only seems to get bigger and darker. Rain falls from it and floods her floorboards. Why does she still ache for someone who doesnt exist anymore? Nostalgia? Longing for a memory of a memory?

She doesn't know. Not yet at any rate, and she doesn't want to either. There are still things to do, institutions that need her attention. 

Ultimately she decided that he’ll be laid to rest in his own home. In his own bed that he’s made for himself. 

His room was turned into a pseudo hospital suite. She was assured that the endless nightmare would keep his body in a state of limbo, but measures were still taken to keep an eye on his vitals as he slept. 

Just to make sure. 

And once everything was hooked up to him, preparations were all made, Mother Nature cleared the room to have a last moment with him.

She stood at the far edge of the bed and was almost afraid to move any closer. Afraid that he would suddenly come to, jump at her with the viciousness that she was only told about second hand. Afraid to come face to face with the monster she doesn't want to believe actually exists.

But when he doesn't move, and the air stays cold and still, she plucks up her courage to approach his bedside. She summons a small object in her hand and bends down to send him off with it. To store away this memory of him. 

She gently, so gently, takes his hands and places a small chunk of ice in them, folding them over the ice and placing it on his chest. The piece of ice holds a tiny bioluminescent light inside. Small yet brightly glowing as a token of the past. When he was still new to the world, and still needed her. 

She clasped her hands around his, and tightly shut her eyes, willing her feelings to be buried with him. 

She eventually, silently leaves. Never to return.

The gate to his realm was promptly locked and sealed with Jack put to bed inside. Only medical attendants and very select authorized individuals were able to have access to him, if need be. Securely tucked away where he wouldn't hurt anyone again.

............................................................................

Then came the next hardest step, slowly rebuilding what was lost. 

The council made detailed step by step plans to reinstate the major holidays that were long gone. The members who had these holidays made fast work of starting up production again; making new routing paths and sourcing all the needed material. All projected holidays were set to be fully back up and operational within the next year or two.

Any trace of Frostmas was quickly burned from existence, the general population very happy to be rid of it from their homes and minds. It was only 715 years, a somewhat small drop in the bucket for magical beings that could feasibly live to 10,000. But everyone was more tripped up by this violent intrusion than they thought. And the healing process of society would be a long and arduous path yet to come. 

But already Jack’s temporary economic solutions were finally being addressed and dealt with. Either gotten rid of all together or built upon to be more sustainable. The people didn't have to fend for themselves anymore. 

But this wasn't enough for Mother Nature. She was determined to keep herself busy with anything and everything she could find. Running towards fire after fire to try and put them out. It wasn't a hard task to look for things to do, but it wasn't solely out of responsibility and obligation to restoring the natural order. 

She only kept running because she couldn't find the strength to stop.

To think about the loss of her only remaining family. Think about where it all went so wrong, where she went wrong. Think about how maybe all of this was just some big mistake. A cruel joke played on her by some kind of higher power that she didn't even believe in. She knows that her grief for all that she’s given and lost would surely be too much to bear.

So she fixates on continuing to mend more of Jack’s mess. Lasered in on saving those who still can be.

Father Time is first and foremost to pick up on this, but it was actually Lucy who eventually coaxed her out of such a state some odd years later to finally face her feelings.

She was oftentimes considered the only saving grace of not only the realms but the abysmal recuperation period in the decades to follow. Having gotten her powers at 17 and overthrew Jack at 20, she lost a critical state of her youth to freak circumstances. And yet still looked around at the state of the realms and saw that there was still more work to be done. She was a beacon of hope in the aftermath of it all, and grew into her power as naturally as any other spirit.

This is where she found her love in humanitarian work, determined to reinstate the much needed stability for those in need. Those who were hit the hardest in the wake of Jack’s reign. She utilized her powers well in bringing back a sense of balance and harmony to the realms; a much needed reprieve to everyone.

Which is why Mother Nature’s inner discord bothered her so much. It took years after the fact for Lucy to wear her down enough to finally talk about her state of mind.

They were actually in the far outskirts of the Easter Burrow when it happened, surrounded by flower fields and crisp air and open blue skies. Lucy worked her magic (figuratively and literally), and assured Mother Nature that nothing bad was going to happen if she let herself feel her feelings.

“It feels so much easier to just swim down with something like this. When something so bad happens. Something out of our control, hurt by people we love. None of it is ever easy. But the further down you swim, the more you’ll get crushed by the pressure. That's thousands of pounds of water, and you need to breathe.

Just breathe.”

And eventually, against her own better judgment, she did.

The Easter Burrow that afternoon was suddenly drenched in a horrendous and inexplicable downpour. Heavy and hard were the drops of rain, yet the wind held no malice. The air cried with its master, spewing a feeling of hollow pain down from the heavens onto the surface of the earth. Screaming about how unfair this all was. She wept so hard and so fiercely that everything was threatened to be washed away.

But then the heavy rain turned into a drizzle. Which turned into a sprinkle, then a mist. The sky eventually opened up for the sunlight to come through. 

As it always does.

............................................................................

Splintered through the regular visits from Lucy, Duna and Vic, Killian found himself in a bit of a state as well. 

Whether it was a conscious choice or not, he didn't do a lot of thinking while imprisoned. Did not deliberate too closely on his choices and if there was more he could have done or anything like that. The stark dullness and repetition of jail time was actually a welcomed reprieve from the overstimulation he’s been accustomed to for the past couple thousand years.

He thinks about things like that while he's here. How he spent close to two thirds of his current immortal lifespan with him. Getting dragged around and pushed from edge to edge and letting it all happen to boot. Letting himself get sucked into all of his problems so willingly because he couldn't seem to let him go. Even still he doesn't know if it was actually love or manipulation or trauma bonding or something like that. And how maybe he will never know.

But he also thinks about how different it is here. How much of a relief it is to not have the boat being constantly rocked, at the mercy of the ever changing tides. The waters here are calm for a change, so he takes this time to rest. To get reacquainted with himself amidst the quiet.

Some days are better than others. 

Some days he finds it too quiet, the air missing the running faucet of nonsense that Jack's voice usually takes up. Feeling as though he himself is missing something instrict to his being. Feeling that the quiet is oppressive rather than freeing. 

Some days it's too cold in jail to think straight. It only makes him think of him more. Like feeling his ghost lurk around every chilly corner. He turns expecting to see him, but he’s never there. He’s decided that he hates the cold, thinks about maybe moving somewhere much warmer to escape it once he’s free. 

Every thought all at once and yet a numbingly empty mind. A strange and psychologically eventful twenty years will creep up on you when you least expect it. Because suddenly the day came when his sentence was finished, and his parole began. 

............................................................................

He was given back his normal clothes and any small innocuous possessions that were taken from him at the beginning. He was led through a set of enchanted gateways, placing him firmly outside the confines of the prison. Somehow a free man.

Three figures stood at the foot of the path of the prison, waiting to walk him home. And when he reached them they all practically dog piled him into a group hug that could bend steel. His mother and nephew looked much the same. But Lucy was now a grown woman, hardly the same kid he led a revolution with all those years ago. 

Her hair is longer somehow, and she has the beginnings of smile lines creasing her face. But she looks happier. He just wished he could’ve had a better look at how her face changed instead of through the glass. But he was never going to admit to her that she was right. Not even now.

Lucy held onto him in a bone crushing hug and spoke softly, as if not to scare him away, “Please don't go anywhere again.”

Killian hugged back, “I won't. Wouldn't dream of it.”

No one in the group said anything for a long while, not until the hug finally broke off and dissipated. 

“How old are you now, exactly? Fourty or something?” Killian asks. “It looks good on you. Even though your youth has slipped right through your fingers where you’ll never get it back.”

She smacks her hand on his shoulder, “Oh please! You're a whole fifty year old! You're not that much older than me. And I'll probably look even better than you when I'm your age.”

“Fah! I'm older than all three of you together. Wait until seven thousand, fetita (little girl). Then you’ll know age like I do,” Duna piped up. 

Everyone has a good laugh at this remark. Vic rediscovers the routine of climbing up Killian’s leg and perching on his shoulder.

“Come on,” Lucy says, leading the way to the bypass, “I have a lot of work you need to see.”

Killian smiled, “Cant wait.”

............................................................................

It's just as he remembered it. The same world he thought he lost over 700 years ago. The whole of the realms seemed to be taking sigh of relief. A rare stable breath that need no longer be held in an anxious wait for something horrible to happen. Everyone knows that this is just the beginning in getting things back to how they were, finding new strides in a new age. But nobody seems to fear this change. 

Killian nearly drowned in the sea of distant relatives that welcomed him when he returned home. A vicious attack the likes of which Lucy has never seen before. 

His home also remained largely unchanged. Dustier, staler air but all of his things are right where he remembered leaving them. Along with a few additional items that he forgot he still had. 

Lucy was there to help him sort through them, the things that Jack left behind that he was now saddled to deal with. Tiny, boring, things that were gathered and packed into a small box or bag, set aside to be tossed into a bottomless pit or set aflame to burn them to ashes. 

And in the middle of this miniature purge, Killian stopped when something in the corner of his space caught his eye. Reminding him of one of the greater tasks still at hand. A bigger bridge to rebuild.

Sitting next to the fireplace was a potted Belladonna plant. Long since shriveled and browned in its place, it gives him a staring problem from afar. It somehow makes itself largely known and obvious in its pathetically deceased state.

Chimera’s gift to him lifetimes ago.

The recognition of something being amiss was instantaneous, second nature to her at this point. Lucy looks over to him when she notices he stopped moving.

“Kills?”

He keeps his gaze firmly on the plant, remorse trying to seep into his pours, “...Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” She gently sets down the box she was holding onto the floor, saddling up behind him.

He doesn't say anything at first, his micro expressions going a mile a minute trying to find the right words to use. A feather soft hand on his shoulder eventually pulls it together and out of him.

“I really need to talk to her.”

And she knows exactly what he’s talking about. Mostly, anyway. The two of these very unlikely friends have had many deep expanding conversations while in visitation. Of course, since Lucy took up a bit of psychology in between helping the realms, she worked her other, more human form of magic by trying to give Killian some kind of mental help while imprisoned. 

And the subject of his once friend Chimera did come up and was somewhat explored. The nitty gritty was never explained to her in full, but she didn't need it to be. Jack taking the realms by force, with Killian’s help no less, was a struggle for everyone to come to terms with. A nasty falling out happened between him and Chimera in the immediate aftermath of the shift of power. 

Contact was severely limited and then cut out all together, something she attributed to Killian’s descent into eventual codependency later on. A connection he never intended to sever.

“I think you should,” she nudged.

“She’s not gonna wanna see me.”

“I think she will.”

He hesitates, “You think so?”

“I do. You know I've been talking to her.”

“Is she still doing okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” she smiled, “talked to her a week and a half ago. Finally convinced her to update the flatscreen. Nice and sleek!”

“Hm,” was all he could manage before growing mute once again.

Lucy lets out a long sigh, “Maybe she won't wanna see you, maybe she won't forgive you. But she deserves to at least receive your apology anyway. You owe that to her at the very least, for her own sake.”

Her other hand comes up to hold onto his limp arm, his eyes growing sadder. Swimming with more thoughts than he was expecting, more than he was capable of handling at the moment. Lucy swings herself around to the front of him.

“Tomorrow,” she says, “having that talk is a tomorrow problem. Right now, all we gotta focus on is taking out the trash. And you keeping your promise about lunch.”

A ghost of a smile threatened to crest his face at the comment, “It's a hole in the wall…”

“Those are my favorite kinds of places!” She took both of his wrists and led him back to the box on the floor, facing away from the dead plant. “Obscurity and mystery is the best ambiance for food.”

“You're not gonna like it. Might not even be anything there you can ingest. That's the gimmick, all of it is still alive when it gets to your plate.”

She grimaces through a smile, “Lovely! Can't…wait.”

Killian snickers, “You dont look like someone that can hunt down their own food. Never thought one of the first things I do on the outside is dinner and a show.”

............................................................................

The following day was harder to digest than a living beast scuttling around on a restaurant table top.

Both Killian and Lucy had made the journey to Lycia in anticipatory silence, and now they stood at Chimera’s front door step. Well, many steps leading up a hill on the side of a cliff face, stone architecture details carved into the mountain. 

He would never say anything of the sort to anyone, not even Lucy here in this moment, but he was nervous. Scared. A friendship that sadly fizzled out what seemed like a lifetime ago and here he is trying to reverse time. Truly an impossible task. 

But Lucy silently and gently nudges him onward, keeping by his side as he very slowly trudges onward and upward to his fate. 

As they get closer they can hear the faint sounds of Chimera conversing with someone, the smell of sulfur and methane grows stronger and they can see all her normal bright colored lights illuminating the home. 

Once they get to the top, the both of them creep further into the entryway, and from afar they can see Chimera through the rest of the house. She stands in the middle of her work table, in front of a very fresh pot of boiling acid. Wooden spoon in hand, she absentmindedly stirs the glowing green liquid and makes light conversation with someone on the other end of the crystal ball on the table next to her. 

“She said she didn't want to take the pole shift because it's too ‘difficult’ with three other people on there. And I said, girl! You're all gnomes! What do you mean there's no room on the pole? Yall arent even 5 feet combined.”

And just like many other things he’s reacclimating to, everything about her is somehow still just as he remembers. 

Lucy gives him another pat on the shoulder and a reassuring glance before strutting further into the home as if she owned the place. Leaving Killian lingering behind, ready to leave at a moment's notice.

“Hey Mera. Don't mind me, just popping in for a sec. Brought a friend if that's alright,” She walks up behind Chimera and steals her attention away. Her feline-esque face lights up upon recognition.

“Hey girl! Haven't seen you in a minute,” she abruptly and rudely ends the call on the crystal ball with a swipe of her hand. “Hello fresh meat back there! Just give me a second.”

His gaze is locked on straight ahead of him, but he can feel his throat get dryer as she unknowingly starts talking to him for the first time again.

When she finally turns around she freezes. The two beings look. And stare. And linger in their spots for what felt like hours. Hours of just seeing who stood before them and trying to compartmentalize the fact that they're both here. 

After another long silent moment, Chimera casts a glance to Lucy; twisted into annoyance as if to say: “Of course you would try to pull off some kinda bullshit like this.”

Lucy merely gave her a look back, wherein her smile was nervous but her eyes were confident. She’s been mending all kinds of bridges for the past twenty years, it's her job, and job she’s become real damn good at. She takes a couple steps away from the both of them, giving the conversation room to breathe.

Chimera doesn’t  look back to Killian and instead snaps her head away in a huff, “...Killian.”

“Chimera,” was all he could manage to respond with before another awkward lull took hold.

“Why are you here?” she spat over her shoulder, crossing her arms.

“Uh...a lot of reasons.”

She continues to turn her nose up at him, her tone sharp and bitter, “Hm. So…the past twenty years been kind to you? Kinder than I've been?” 

“They've been as okay as they can be,” he treads lightly, “I've actually enjoyed prison time more than I thought I would.”

“Tch. Of course you would. Never could stay away from a cold, inhospitable place, could you?”

Her phrasing cuts right where it needs to, right as intended. It slaps him out the idea of dawdling any longer. It's like a bandaid, and now's the time where he has to rip it off.

“You were right,” every word is molasses as he speaks. “You were right about the whole thing…”

“I was, wasn't I?” she swivels her head back around to face him. “Who knew that I can actually know what the hell I'm talking about sometimes.”

“Mera—”

“Don't you Mera me! It's my turn to talk and you didn't listen to me then but you're sure as hell gonna listen to me now!” Her voice plunges from its irritated high into a more remorseful softness, “Do you have…any idea how much that hurt me? 

I was only trying to help you. I knew things were gonna go south and they did, and you didn't wanna listen to me.”

Everyone's mind drifts off to the part that she’s referring to. The point of time in question wherein Killian was faced with a choice and a challenge that there was no winning.

Chimera and Jack got into a heated argument soon after the news aired on the crystal ball's public access. A date was set in place when the passover of the torch would be held, where the Council of Legendary Figures would be disbanded and be replaced with only Jack at the helm.

Killians part to play in this scenario remained untold as they violently yelled at each other. Chimera claiming that Jack was unfit to take over and was the least qualified person available to do so. And Jack retaliates with his own claims of legitimacy and solidification, there being nothing anyone can do about it. 

It all boiled over quicker than either expected, and Chimera delivered the first crisp slap to the face. It only devolved from there. 

Ice and acid do not make a great elemental combination. The entire space they were occupying became wet and slick with water and liquid poisons. Holes burned into random surfaces and walls, half melted icicles everywhere you looked. 

And it was this actual war zone that Killian ended up walking in on. 

He is forced to separate them, trying to keep the physical damage of both his best friend and his partner as minimal as possible. 

And while being held back from the fight, Jack revealed Killians involvement with all this. In an effort for her to point her finger at not just him in this situation. Afterall he’s equally to blame for it just as much as me.

And Killian will never forget the look she gave him in that moment. The utter disbelief, the betrayal in her eyes that he simply wasn't prepared for. A haunting look that would continue to plague him hundreds of years. 

And even though the question itself was never asked, they both looked to Killian in that moment, hoping he would choose them to side with. 

Which relationship was more important here?

“And what did you do? Nothing! You didn't choose at all, which means you didn't choose me!” Chimera rattled off. “I thought I was more important than that.”

“You were. Of course you were but I chose wrong anyway,” Killians defense was only as loud as it needed to be. Quiet enough with remorse but loud enough to make a point for her to hear.

“I don't…have a valid excuse for ignoring your advice. I—I just wanted it to work so bad. I wanted that more than anything else. For hundreds of years I wanted to keep thinking it was gonna work out eventually. 

But low and behold, I put all my eggs in one basket and this is what happened. And I shouldn't have done that to you…I should've listened to you when I had the chance. I know hindsight makes it seem really easy to say but it's still true. 

I'm sorry, Mera. I was wrong about everything.”

The last bit of his plight slipped into a deeper regret, smoothed with sincerity that Chimera could not only feel but see on his face.

She hadn't noticed until now but he somehow looks older. Immortal beings like them don't get older, and yet he’s done it. Maybe it's all the new gray in his hair, maybe it was the dark circles under his eyes. Whatever it was, the most undeniable thing about him was that the past 2,000 years attached to the hip of one Jack Frost did not do him any favors. 

She imagines that this is what the embodiment of what a walking talking regret looks like. 

The self reproach was undoubtedly genuine. 

“Ya know…I was kinda hoping it would've worked out too,” she lets out a weighted sigh, her eyes finding some boring stone on the floor to fixate on. “Even after we had that big fight, we didn't talk. I would see you around with him occasionally and I thought, ‘God I hope it was worth it’. Even in a spiteful sense, I still kinda wanted you to be happy.

I was thinking that it would've even been okay if I was in the wrong. That maybe I didn't know what I was talking about, and that you would've been happy together anyway.”

He seems taken aback by this comment, and it takes him another moment to say anything, “I wouldn't have been. It was a lost cause from the very start. And I shouldn't have chosen him at your expense. He shouldn't have been that important. And he wasn't. But I didn't want to see reason at the time.”

Suddenly he shakes his head a few times, as if to snap him out of the sentimentality he slipped into. 

“In any case, I just came here to apologize. For everything that I did and didn't do. For how I treated you,” he takes a few cautionary steps backwards towards the front door. “And you don't have to accept it and you don't have to talk to me again after this. It's just been uh, long overdue.”

Chimera’s expression doesn't change from a rugged hardness as she finally approaches him. He takes another step back in response, but has no choice but to stare down the barrel of the gun as she looms over him. 

They both stare at the other and remain resolute, until Chimera bends forward and hugs him. A hug that isnt bear-like, but constricting and cagy. 

And Killinan, still not used to receiving hugs of any kind, freezes up and dares not to move. For all he knows she could be slipping some kind of lethal toxin onto or into him when she’s this close. 

But he glances at Lucy out of the corner of his eye and sees that she is all smiles. Making the hand motions for “go on”, prodding him to hug back. 

He can hear his heart beating louder in his chest when he decides to do so, slowly bridging his arms up to her shoulders to reciprocate.

“This doesn't mean I fully forgive you by the way,” she mumbles close to his ear, “that's gonna be a whole other thing. 

But I want to…I wanna try.”

He almost didn't want to believe it. He felt as though maybe it would've been an easier pill to swallow if she had simply ripped him a new one and threw him back out of her life again. He couldn't argue with that, but he couldn't argue with this either. This was the choice she was making, and he had no say in the matter whether or not he was going to be truly forgiven. 

But he didnt question it further. He instead hugged her back with more strength and conviction. Savoring a small sliver of warmth he has thus far denied himself.

“Thank you.”

[sunnibits]

I hope izzy continues to be a selfish fucked up masochistic mean freak in s2 of ofmd btw. like obviously I enjoy a good domesticated izzy as much as the next guy but I truly do not want them to go immediately into a soft uwu baby arc I desperately need more content of him being messy and violent and jagged thank you <3

I may draw and engage with a lot of silly and fluffy content about him but I can’t forget the fact that the scene that really made me interested in him was the toe scene. like that was the hook for me!! I genuinely want to see more crazy shit like that from him!!! like I do enjoy him when he’s complicated and bad actually hope this helps :)

[eorzeashan]

I keep forgetting Eight is SIS a lot of the time because I could never decide if it was the right path for him or not and most of his interactions with Jonas were outright failures that only made him even more disinterested, but then Theron comes into the picture again. And of course that is a point of deliberation.

Theron feels a responsibility towards him after KOTXX for not realizing sooner that Eight was just following Lana's orders to an obedient T not out of his own personal desire or will, but the simple need to repay a life debt, a fact which escapes most of the Alliance and even Lana herself despite it directly opposing his usual behavior. As the kind of person who has to save those in front of him whether they like it or not, this guilts Theron immensely not only for being a part of the blind crowd but enabling a violent warmongering path for Eight that he realizes now may not have been Eight's wish after all, that he'd pegged him all wrong-- and worse, treated him like so.

Eight himself cares very little at this point whether Theron treats him favorably or not. He was here to be used, and he was used. It's the way he's always lived. For a time he might've had the small hope to understand Theron and Lana during SoR, but that faded very quickly come KOTXX. He lived the same way during Intelligence with the added benefit that he did care for those people as they cared for him, but it never removed the stain of the dirty business he'd permanently undertaken, only made it more acceptable as part of his life and not treated like dirty laundry the way the Alliance did.

Theron latches on to the small thought that they could've been different if he'd only tried to get to know Eight, and out of a desire to make things right in his mind, starts attempting to extend the proverbial olive branch even though it's an awkward and uncomfortable attempt that feels too little too late. He has to do something, and try as he might he's not the kind of guy who cuts people loose to stay out in the cold. And maybe part of that is residual guilt for not protecting the Sixth Line and Master Surro, his repeated failure to be responsible for those under his command. Eight is essentially his last chance to prove he can do right by others, even when they share no common ground or bond. It's the barren ground of their relationship that makes him want to try, even if he shouldn't be using him as his own redemption.

Somehow this results in Theron making it a personal point to be involved in Eight's life from them on after, SIS included: unofficially, he stays as his handler. He prides himself secretly on the notion that Eight seems to like Jonas even less than him, which is legendary given Eight's notoriously aloof attitude (but not much to brag about from an outside perspective) and the SIS more or less doesn't give a womp rat's ass whether Theron meddles as long as the ex-Imperial agent stays on a short leash, and that's.. fine with him. Theron wouldn't have asked regardless.

Still, he tries. Hopes at the very least he can keep the SIS' use of him to a bare minimum so what happened in the Alliance can never happen again, optimistic as that is. Checks on him often enough that it looks like they're officially assigned to one another, and even lets him go in and out of his own apartment as he pleases (Eight gets his own. as usual, he doesn't care for it much and it still makes Theron antsy that he'll come to it one day and find it completely abandoned, so this is fine).

Eight doesn't say much. Comments that the life is fine when asked, doesn't watch the holos but idly listens when he puts it on. Does his work and doesn't when he's off the clock. When asked about how he feels killing Imps, it makes Theron's blood run cold when Eight casually says that was his only job over there too.

Theron buys him some street food in an attempt to make something different. At the very least, Eight says it's better than rations.

[colorful-horses]

ladybug: chloe you can't be queen bee anymore because everyone knows who you are, and it'll put you and your family at risk

Chloe: ok makes sense

Chloe, for the next 12 episodes: Why isn't ladybug coming back to let me be queen bee 😭

[o-wyrmlight]

You know it's kind of sad; when Affogato got leaked I was actually pretty excited and had kind of hoped he'd be a good guy (I thought him being bad was to obvious and that it would've been an interesting almost Lobster/Mocha Ray type deal) and even during Cacao's chapters I found him really fun and enjoyable but now I just get prickly every time I see him because everyone is so eagerly hellbent on acting like he was in the right and Cacao is some awful monster. It admittedly makes looking at him with proper nuance like you do hard :c I am curious, though; what are your thoughts on Affogato threatening to banish anyone who didn't like his rule? Did I just misread what he said or?

I just went back to read that scene, and I'll be honest--I think that Affogato just said it absolutely mindlessly. I think he's under the belief and assumption that these promises and the future he provides is so good that no cookie would disagree with him, and therefore there would be no need for banishment. He's so happy and pleased as punch with himself that he said the first thing that came to mind and just went with it. Smh. Talk about being on cloud nine.

It really is unfortunate how the fandom can both change your perspective of a character you initially hated into something more akin to appreciation or even make them your favorite character, but they can also take characters that interest you and that you're fond of and make you... dread them.

'Prickly' is a good word for it, actually. I don't mind PureLily, but so many of the shippers of it are toxic to the point that they harass other creators, and it's gotten to the point where seeing PureLily makes me feel... a little prickly, myself. So I understand that. I really do.

[skumhuu]

✨👑 Throne 👑✨ pages 17-18

Beginning

< • >

[see-arcane]

Anyway I vote for A! "People shouldn't get reincarnated unless they have a very very good reason" is a strong point for me, even though I would like to see more Renfield.

📝

Noted ✅

There IS a reason the larger casts get reincarnated in B and C beyond just 'ooh that would be cool.' Jonathan is behind Mina and company returning. Mina, because Mina. The others?

Extreme guilt. The Suitors and Van Helsing already slew Mina once upon a time. Jonathan, still human, cannot give in to his base vicious urge for bloody revenge, and so commits suicide, going full seppuku with the kukri blade in his gut...

...Not realizing the consequences. There's a combo of classic bitten (By Dracula! Not Mina!)/suicidal death magic that brings him back as a vampire, plus some lore to explain how he's taken on Dracula's full bag of tricks. But the important thing is that when he rises, he has no self control yet. He's a base vampiric newborn, having only two wants:

Drink blood. Follow all impulses, no matter how horrible.

And his last impulse as a living man was to kill the men responsible for slaying Mina and keeping him from protecting her. Cue carnage for the last human heroes standing. It isn't until after he's slain them and gotten his bloody fill that Jonathan's senses start filtering back, along with a sturdier grip of his less blunt wants and personality. And he realizes what he's just done.

This leaves Jonathan the Dracula in the unique position of not being a warlord-turned-Dracula, but a genuinely good and guilt-riddled man-turned-Dracula. And what is a good, guilty, lovesick man going to do with arcane powers and Scholomance-level spells and devilry at his fingertips?

Look at this mess. Look what I have done. I must fix this.

And so in tragic monster fashion, he follows that impulse, regardless of the time or means necessary, and tries to 'fix it.' A spell to bring the wrongfully dead back in a hundred years--for it is not a speedy ritual--and give them back the lives that were cut so violently short.

Sorry, sorry, it will be better this time, all will be well, no conquering, no monsters in the dark, Mina, everyone, sorry, so sorry...

Because as driven as he is by romantic love and yearning for Mina, to Hell and beyond, he's also driven to Do Good. Be Good. I Will Help. I Will Make It Better. And so he brings them all back.

A monster's apology.

[sinnabunii]

story boarding my beloathed <3 (wip)

[chickensoupleg]

I had an idea based off of this (It has nothing to do with said idea the context is the Sims 4)

So Neil gets married to his first wife, all is well, she gets pregnant. What he doesn't know is she's some deity of some form or another and was either in a selkie skin situation where she can't return home because Neil has something of hers or knew that she can't legally just run away with child without Neil getting the law involved and put herself in danger. How a mortal man would put a being too powerful for him to even dare lay a hand on (He does anyways) in danger who knows, but whatever it is, she's not budging for a good couple of years.

Anyways, so at some point she does actually leave, abandoning her son to the dogs despite the possibility that she could have tried to bring him too, but simply could not. It could be a time thing, where her point of freedom was short and grabbing Billy without alerting Neil was too risky, a mortality thing where Billy being part of Neil's blood too made him impossible to bring where she was going, or just simply she did not want to.

Regardless, now Billy's stuck with Neil, time passes, joy of joy they end up in Hawkins.

Billy remembers his mom, definitely. Probably idolised her as many children do, especially when said parent tried protecting you from your other parent and gave you happy memories. Very likely he had no idea that his mom wasn't just a mortal woman.

Very likely – before the Mindflayer got its grubby slimy little tentacles in Billy – it didn't know either. Why would it. So, after it DOES get its nasty little whippersnappers into Billy it just... goes horrendously wrong.

Turns out adding the Upside Down to Godly Blood is a horrible combination and should not be done under any circumstance.

It becomes a horrible rendition of slowly distorting Billy's body so badly he might as well just been Mindflayer 2.0 but with exactly one (1) soul suffering in agonizing pain and misery.

It doesn't stop his mind from going between completing the Duty forced upon him and trying to figure out why everything in his bones hurt.

Pros:

-Nobody gets melted, hooray!

-The original Mindflayer + Henry now have to fight this Holy Blood with the mind control, and turns out a small child is much easier to control than WHATEVER THIS IS.

-The pain of summer being legal and a thing is likely not as severe but still very uncomfortable because someone on this brain council likes it cold.

Cons:

-Billy does not get his memory of him as a kid on the beach with his seven foot wave shown to him by a girl he doesn't really know but was about to feed to a massive monster in the mall and therefore remembers what feeling safe was like.

-Max still gets trauma regarding said brother, just in a different ice cream flavour.

-He doesn't understand what is going on and he's never gonna get his answers because it's too late for him.

[ms-demeanor]

Hey also you know that post about getting better at cooking and handling meat and stuff?

Meat is really expensive and it goes bad pretty quickly.

If you're a new cook and you're trying to figure out how to pan-fry something so that it tastes good, might I recommend tofu?

I'm not saying "treat tofu like meat and try to replace all your favorite meat dishes with tofu" (though, I mean, if that sounds good - go for it), I'm saying "it's a lot easier to practice heating a pan and flipping objects in a pan for a meal and seasoning objects in a pan when the objects in the pan cost two dollars instead of ten dollars."

Tofu lasts a lot longer in the fridge than meat does, is easy to season, and you can easily learn how to pan-fry it into a tasty snack (or main course) and only requires a little extra prep. You can also pretend that the tofu is raw meat (the texture isn't dissimilar) and start practicing for things like how to take it out of a package or cut it on a sanitizable surface, etc.

My favorite way to cook tofu is to press extra firm tofu for at least half an hour (you can get a cheap tofu press for around ten dollars, or you can put it between two plates with some books on the top plate - this is that extra prep i was talking about - tofu cooks best if you press the excess water out), then slice a 14oz cake of it into 8 slices. I lay these flat and sprinkle cayenne pepper, mushroom powder, and smoked paprika on all of the slices, then I rub it in and flip the slices and season the other side the same way. I cook it in a frying pan with a thin layer of avocado or olive oil over medium heat, flipping every two minutes until the flat sides start to crisp up a little. Just before the last flip I add about a tablespoon of tamari sauce (you can use soy sauce, I've just got allergies) to the pan, sprinkling it over the tofu so that both sides get a little bit of sauce on them.

I have that with steamed vegetables and with jasmine rice (with two teaspoons of rice wine vinegar per 3 cups of dry rice and 4.5 cups of water). I also make a honey-siracha-mayo sauce that I dip the tofu in.

It's really good. And now I end up eating leftover rice and sauce with fried eggs for lunch at least two days a week and that's also really good.

This has become one of my go-to low spoon foods because it's so easy to make, it's filling, it tastes good to me, and it has become extremely easy for me to keep a stock of tofu in the fridge compared to the effort of keeping un-expired meat in the fridge.

I find that a 14oz pack of tofu feeds two adults for one meal, though I can stretch that to three meals if I'm the only one eating.

It makes a very cheap, filling, easy dinner that I can keep the ingredients around for without too much concern for food waste or anything going bad (the tofu that I get lasts about a month in the fridge and these days I just buy three packs every time I'm at aldi and cycle in new stock - it costs $1.50 per pack)

If you're interested in becoming a better cook, rather than worrying about actual high-risk products like raw chicken that can be seriously dangerous and also cost a fair amount, tofu has a pretty low barrier to entry while also being a good way to learn on a new ingredient that has some similar properties to raw meat.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, dubcon, hybrid au, size difference

fem reader

Thinking up so many tasty tidbits about hybrid au… 

Being a normal human girl mating a beast and constantly needing to plant your hands at your hips and give him a firm “no” as though speaking down to an actual dog – and how fucking odd it is to him that you express free will as though you shouldn’t naturally submit to him like a normal female would when approached by a male – bearing your wet pussy for him and just begging him to breed you full...

It’s only natural for your beast boyfriend to mount you without asking – like you’re only two animals mating out in the wild. So you can imagine the dumbfounded look slapped on his face when you refuse – saying you’re busy with your hand placed on his chest, giving him a push that doesn't make him budge but manages to make his tail droop until it’s sweeping the floor. 

It’s so unnatural to him. You’re a female, and he’s a bull. You should be bending over the second you see him, not ignore him – and definitely not reject him.

Like... he expects you to roll over and let him make you his bitch, but instead, you’re walking circles around him while laying down something you call “ground rules.” Telling him he has to stop biting your neck unless he wants to wear a muscle – that he has to shower at least once every other day or else you won’t touch him – and that he has to stop scenting you with that heady musk that smells of sweaty ballsack and dickcheese oryou’re not letting him touch you at all.

It all makes him pout with a gruff – almost growling at you, thinking a weakling like you should have no say over an alpha like him. And yet he’s on his knees for a taste of your pussy at the end of every day despite it – acting as though he cannot rest without it, as though he would starve to death.

In the end, he does everything you ask – just like a tamed pet. It’s cute.

He was so, so very skeptical when you’d convinced him to allow you to be on top for once. He was so rigid, lying there, belly-up – watching your every move with a predator’s glare as though he planned to pounce on you at any given moment – looking a mix of confused and aroused when you rolled your hips and rode him – hissing and grumbling beneath his breath as though he didn’t exactly know what to do with himself except lie there and take it. 

But although you’re able to convince him of most things, there are still those instincts you’ll never win against…

The way he just huffs and ignores you when you tell him to pull out instead of flooding your womb with cum – kneading his cock into your deepest parts while pinning you flat in a mating press that has your feet going behind your head. 

Not to mention that time you tried making him wear a condom – to which he only snorted as if it were some bad joke he didn’t find funny – rearing your cunt with his raw cock leaking pre, telling you to stop fooling around and start begging to be bred full of his pups like a good bitch.

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji,

DS – Sanemi, Akaza, Inosuke, Genya