#thats my writing tag now ig

[olivebranch311]

A Haunting Reminder The Dark Mirror Research Foundation is located on Sage's Isle, far away from civilization, and dedicated to the research of the mysterious, dangerous, and supernatural. Silver is a young researcher at this mass facility, and when the foundation undergoes a test between two of their subjects, he has his protocols for if there is an emergency. But when that emergency comes, he finds himself cornered by the creature who raised him, with nothing but a locked door to keep him out. Amidst the blaring alarms and intense situation, can Silver hold off until security comes, or will he be swept away by his own traitorous heart?

Hey guys! This is a story that I have been brain-rotting over and annoying my friend Ell with for months and it is finally out in the wild! My friend, @serenescribe, beta read this for me and even wrote the incident herself in a ficlet request that you all can read here! I adore this AU of mine and I look forward to making my containment breach multiverse content for it. The story is pretty SCP-inspired for those who like TWST and SCP!

[ikeasharksss]

hey im curious

feel free to rb & explain your answer in the tags!

[ssomepersonn]

many thoughts about these guys

[butterflysonnets]

all i can imagine right now is teenage theo’s stupid gay ass listening to the 2004 re-release of mr. brightside by the killers (because, yknow, vegas) on repeat while bitching about kotku in his stupider gayer journal and then having an internal crisis wondering why mr. brightside speaks to him so viscerally

[skitskatdacat63]

I meant to write more for a pt 2 lore post earlier but didn't end up doing so, so pls take these AU sketches(Mark & Jense and then some assorted sketchies)

[iindigoeyed]

i dont have anything at All for kagami week and i wish i did BUT… here's snippets from these things to prove that i AM writing it at a snail's pace

[an-theduckin]

Btw ik it's been a rlly long time since I've updated the a day in the life of mark fanfic (it's been 1 month and 5 days) but I'm fr working on it alr it's just cuz writers block + imposter syndrome + the first few chapters after chapter 10 being the most confusing ass chapters ever n I'm still tryna figure out out to do the pacing of them n stuff. I'm rlly genuinely sorry it's taken this long I didn't think that would happen it was only supposed to be like a 2 week break. So yeag I'm really sorry about that

[guardianscry]

Hehe, hi again!!

This is for day 6 of Hatstache week, 'stargazing' ^^ @hatstacheweek

Summery:

So Much has happened to Mu this year it seems, and it finally feels like it's going in the right direction, and despite the troubles the two girls have had, Mu and Hat are as close as ever it feels, and Mu has been breaking down more of her walls in order to let her through, slowly. It was Mu's turn to decide what to do tonight, and she picked one of her fondest memories, despite the lingering feeling of dread that follows behind it.

[waywardsalt]

tbh all things considered im at least glad that my discomfort with totk is what really drove me to really discover a lot of the discussion and analysis into the racism and orientalist stuff and... all of that in the zelda series, since i was halfway aware of it in the past but only more recently started to really look into it further and see what others have to say about it

[cfrog]

Finally! Some actual art of my newest blazeborn, The Grave Raven! As usual, actual infos on toyhouse, short version is they dig in dirt a bunch and get haunted for it. Fun stuff!

And individual versions of my favs, for your viewing pleasure:

^yeah that last ones a meme redraw

[todayisafridaynight]

WHAT DO YOU MEAAANNN "MID" THAT COMIC GOES SO HARD AND NOT FOR ANYTHING... THAT WAS MY FIRST THOUGHT VERBATIM... THIS GOES HARD. Incredibly effective composition and symbolism and use of values and shadow on the first page ESPECIALLY (I would love to hear what the third eye symbolizes as mentioned in your tags :) ) but. But. But like. Masato being Arakawa's comfort and not recognizing it and certainly not remembering it when he's older... despite how much it means to Arakawa in the moment... owwww owwie

I was gonna ramble about how much it hits home to depict Yoko as non-human because the nightmares that have stuck with the most about my mom were like that But Enough Of That We Get It... at any rate, as always, take care and I hope you get some good news soon!

thank you so much ♪(´▽｀) !! it generally felt like somethin i dont really post (but horror/blood is something i really love and love to draw), so its why i was especially excited to share it and see what people thought: im glad people like it from what i see (❁´◡`❁) ! and im glad the lack of color wasn't anything detrimental- it might have worked better in this instance. maybe.

i dont ever 'title' things per say since i feel weird doin it BUT i guess captions serve as the title sometimes. so the caption 'matrophobia' is really ironic with that whole aspect in relation to masato being arakawa's Everything: on the one hand, it can just be a general fear of your mother, but on the other hand it could also be the fear of becoming like your mother. if i ever intended to go through with a jo variant, 'patrophobia' would for sure be the title with that ambiguity in mind, but (and i suppose in both instances) with this its more ironic here since masato is the one who ends up the most like his parents' abusers- which ultimately just makes things more bittersweet in that moment dont it (´▽｀ ;;;) on top of masato being arakawa's comfort, it's not just masato himself being the only reason: tying back into the alt. meaning of matrophobia, it's also a relief for arakawa in that he didn't turn out like his mother- which, again, makes everything so bittersweet in the end. its like spiders in my brain when it comes to that whole aspect in regards to the arakawa family's history and dynamics...... it makes me insane to be blunt ☠️

ah but yeah ! i decided to make her an actual perceivable monster so people who. DON'T. have issues with either of their parents could get a better feeling of what it is like to have a troublesome parent/s (id rather see wolves in my dreams than my mom on that note- even if they were going to bite my face off ( ´◡` ;;; ) ). i ran out of tags before i could make any more notes i had while drawing （；´x｀） but i do have more and i'll be glad to explain the missing eye bit ! under the cut since it'll just be me rambling bout symbolism ig and its gonna get long (´▽｀;;; )

when it came to the third/center eye being missing specifically, i did it in relation to how the third eye can relate to enlightenment or higher knowledge. definitely just as a result of projection, but its cause all the time when i was growing up my mom would not only assert and act as if Her Way Was The Right Way and that she knew everything, but that i should only go to her if i needed help and no one else could help me- hence it being missing being a reflection of how that notion isn't true (or always true i should say). as en extension, it's also a dig at how enlightened persons are supposed to help others reach enlightenment- yk, guide them. yet, again, in this case, they're only doing harm.

that's all for the third eye bit, but also just some other things i didnt have room to ramble bout last post: i had her lips be torn away to constantly show her fangs since. well. i dont have to explain it i guess: its just meant to highlight the never ending feeling of danger when around her (and the promise of danger). her nose being gone is purposeful too: in animals, the smell of your family's significant and it helps you find out Which One Is Yours right. in her nose being gone- again, more projection and personal problems on my part- it's a way to emphasize the separation between mother and child: 'you're no longer my kid anymore, i can't even recognize your scent'. of course, that's only to the mother: she is the only one no longer able to say they're family because she can't smell that shared scent anymore. in reality, they could very much smell the same, it's just the mother's unwilling to accept that anymore.

i know i mentioned the flowers in my initial post, but her wearing a flower shirt really was convenient since it allowed me to add those thorns and vines. when you have a troublesome parent like that, the feeling of not just being trapped is there, but it's painful- it's not something you can deal with quietly. even if you're not interacting with the parent directly, the thought of their presence or the unfortunate thoughts that come about as a result of having been around them so long are a constant thorn in the side. if i may make a pun ( ´uゝ` )

alright NOW i think i've covered everything i wanted to. without all the symbolism aside, i hope she at least looks grotesque for people to enjoy without the added thought- and i hope i didn't overdue it. in any case im glad you enjoyed it !! i hope you'll enjoy the next comic i get out (❁´◡`❁) if i ever start it and i dont abandon it midway through ( ❁´◡`❁ ;;;)

[emmys-writing-blog]

okk, I've been at a major blank for the castle infiltration chapters I had been writing. Normally I just write whenever I get the inspiration to, though it's been almost 2 months now and I still have absolutely nothing for that story. I do not think I'll continue that story; if I do, it probably won't be anytime this year. I do have a new hyperfixation and story idea though so that will probably become my whole blog. I'll start posting about that soon!

hopefully

[elegyofthemoon]

In the cool, plush core of the moon sleeps a mouse as we speak, dreaming of a world lush and green, then golden and undulating, then chopping and churning, a world of many surfaces with skies of many moods.

When it awakes, it will poke its tiny head out of a crater and bask in your glow as it does every morning. Here, all is still and silent. On that sparkling planet in the deep black distance, the sun seems capricious. But the mouse lives in the abyss of the body and therefore with a unique perspective on its essence. The mouse sees what other life does not see.

One needn't worry about unbecoming for the sake of containing a sun. Clouds may blanket the atmosphere of a planet, but still there burns a sun. The spots on the sun's surface may grow and shrink and shift, but still there it burns. And if one decides to cool it down like a waning flame or expand it in a cataclysmic supernova, still there it burns, and one has the right to revoke the state of their existence and become new.

Because perhaps the truth is you are not the sun--not alone--but it is rather a part of you. Your body is the solar system, each planet a world within the body, and each knows this glow in different ways. Some are nurtured by its warmth, others by its distance. Regardless of the sun's changes, they stay the course encircling it.

The universe cannot be held back, harnessed, fully comprehended. It pulls at the seams of solar systems as it pulls on its own seams. In that unstoppable shifting, we stumble. Sometimes it feels like our love and light slips from our fingers, shattering irrevocably in our falls. But what makes us cannot be seperated from us, even in times where our essence is obscured.

There is always another life to appreciate your life, no matter what happens. And in the least, there is always a little mouse in you that understands you in telescopic clarity and offers forgiveness for every change--no matter what, right into the end of time.

❤

[as-the-stars-foretold]

these two are just soooooo. yk

“Ascian...” Vesper growled, “If you touch me ONE. MORE. TIME. I am going to find a goddamn exorcist for you, understand?”

The ghost laughed loudly, leaning back into thin air. His blue suit jacket was unbuttoned, revealing the strangely pristine white shirt underneath. The crystals that lined the segments of his arms shone brightly, as if a bright light was shining through them. Ves scowled, pulling the solution he was working on away from the other.

“I’m serious, Ascian. This is more acidic than Hell itself and one wrong move will take off all my skin and then some.”

“Fine, fine. I won’t touch you. For now,” Ascian teased, fluffing his hair up. He looked over Ves’s shoulder, careful not to touch him. He wasn’t in the mood to be exorcised, after all. “What’re you working on anyway?”

Ves sighed, leaning away from the solution as he turned on the bunsen burner. “It’s a thing Altair wanted me to test. To see if it’d clean up those uh—” he waved his hand around, “—burns. That they caused.” Ascian nodded. He glanced towards Vesper, who was intently staring at his notebook. He took note of the way light shone through the curls of Ves’s hair and how the sharp angles of his face seemed more defined than usual. His eyes drifted downwards, before he caught himself and jerked away, putting as much distance between them as possible. Ves looked back at him and frowned.

“You good? Did you hear something?”

Ascian shook his head, avoiding eye contact with him. He hoped the blue tint of his skin masked the heat he felt on his face. How embarrassing.

“Just focus on your dumb science potion or whatever, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom.” He smirked as the chemist threw him a nasty glare.

The day passed by quickly. Ves stayed in his lab for most of it, only coming out for meals. Ascian, on the other hand, roamed everywhere possible. He visited Rowan, who was working on the dreadful thing called homework. After his attempt to help, Rowan forced him out of their room, scowling.

“Ascian, no offense, but you were a geologist. You cannot do math well.” Ascian took offense. Most of the day, however, Ascian spent time between Altair and Vesper. Ves had kicked the ghost out of his lab many times (all unofficial, according to Ascian), sending him to Altair. Altair, in their never-ending patience, kept him company, listening to his ramblings about whatever came to his mind. Caves, new geological finds, the increased difficulty of homework, a certain chemist (at the mention of whom, Altair chuckled knowingly). As the sun set over the horizon, the star gave Ascian an… interesting suggestion.

“Ascian, how about you stay the night with Ves?” Ascian looked at him incredulously.

“Why?! He’s an annoying, pompous, angry, attractive–er, scratch that–bastard! I won’t be able to sleep at all if I stayed at his house.”

Altair sighed, regarding the agitated ghost with slight exasperation. “Well, aside from the fact that you and him need to work on getting along, Rowan has a test tomorrow and I don’t want you bothering her tonight.”

“RUDE!”

“We both know it’s true, I’m afraid.” Ascian huffed. It wasn’t wrong.

“Alright, I won’t stay with Rowan. But why Vesper? Can’t I just- just go with you?”

“You know that’s against the rules. You won’t survive, ghost or not.” Another fair point. Ascian relented.

“Fine. I’ll stay with him. Will you have time to help me move my stuff?” Ascian’s belongings consisted of a change of clothes for the night and a diary, along with some serums for when the crystals jutting through his skin got irritated. Despite being a ghost, Ascian and others like him still had certain human needs. What they didn’t have, however, was the ability to move objects bigger than softballs and heavier than large vases. Altair shot him an apologetic glance. Ascian sighed as their friend started glowing brighter, an indication that it soon had to return to its realm.

“Unfortunately, I think you know the answer to that,” they glanced at the flecks of blue-white appearing on their skin. “I’m very sorry, Ascian.”

“It’s whatever. I’ll just ask him.”

Bidding goodbye to Altair, Ascian started their reluctant trek to Vesper’s house. Stupid, mean little bastard… He thought, kicking at a rock. He’ll probably just kick me out and tell me to sleep on the porch or something. Won’t even give me cuddles. How disgraceful. He took a double take at that last thought, shaking his head aggressively, as if to clear his brain of traitorous musings. Knocking on Ves’s door, he tried to keep his mind blank (or at least full of snark). Only the gods knew where these thoughts were coming from.

“Uh. Hello, Ascian. What do you want?” Ves asked tiredly, hair messy and bags under his eyes. Ascian pointedly did not look at the rest of him in loose pants and a thin white shirt. Turning his head away, he mumbled, “Altair wanted me to stay here for the night.”

Ves frowned, rolling his eyes. “Speak up, dumb shit. I can’t hear you if you’re going to mumble into your jacket like that.”

“I said,” he repeated irritatedly, “that Altair wants me to stay here for the night so that I don’t ‘bother Rowan’ because he has a test tomorrow.”

Ves sighed, clearly as annoyed with this as he was. “Fine, whatever. Where’s your stuff?”

He averted his eyes, clearing his throat. “Er, Alt didn’t have enough time to help me bring it. Could you?”

The other groaned, throwing his hands up. “Rowan’s asleep, dude. Your stuff is at their house. Either we can go buy you some new stuff from the discount store or you can deal with it.” Ascian whined internally, dreading what he was about to ask.

“Or, uh, I could just borrow your stuff.” Ves stiffened slightly, eyeing him. Ascian glared back, embarrassment tightening his chest. He opened his mouth to throw a quip at the chemist, but Ves beat him to it. “Fine. You can.” He blinked.

“Vesper Drakos, this shirt is hideous,” he complained, tugging at the bright orange shirt and plaid pants he had on. The corners of Ves’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Tch. I let you borrow my stuff and this is what you have to say to it?”

“This is a plan to humiliate me, I’m sure of it! You are not slick, bitch,” he declared loudly. “To do such a man like myself such an injustice– how could you!”

Ves rolled his eyes, pushing away from the doorframe. “Calm thyself, Shakespeare knock-off. I don’t need to humiliate you when you already do it enough yourself.” Ascian gasped, dramatically putting his hand over his once-beating heart.

“You wound me! Sleep with one eye open tonight, twerp.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he flinched. Glancing at Vesper, his grimace deepened. The chemist looked at him angrily, warily. Ascian backed up, leg phasing through the chest of drawers. “That was a joke! I promise! I’m not gonna do anything, trust me.”

Ves’s scowl darkened and he glared at the ghost. “Watch yourself.”

The rest of the evening was spent in tense conversation as Ves ate dinner and got ready for bed. Ascian floated around him awkwardly, occasionally handing him items. He felt bad for what he said, truly, but Ascian was not one to apologize easily. Instead, he settled for helping Vesper with simple tasks and turning down his quips.

As Ascian sat on Vesper’s bed, watching the other lay out a mattress for him, he noticed a painting hanging over the dresser. Parts of it were torn and other parts burnt, but it was clear that the painting was of a family. He figured that it must have been Vesper’s family, which was already a touchy subject for the man. He chewed on his lip, trying to decide between asking and leaving it alone. Ves glanced back, then sighed. “Just ask the question already.”

“Ah- um. Could I know who those… people are? If it’s alright with you?” Vesper followed his gaze, pressing his lips into a thin line. Ascian panicked at the expression, but said nothing. If Ves was even more angry at him, he’d know. “My family,” the other said tightly. He nodded.

Tense silence filled the room as Ascian worked up the nerve to apologize. Just as he was about to say something, Vesper spoke again. His voice was soft this time, reminiscing.

“The three little ones at the bottom are my siblings. Two sisters and a brother. They were triplets, three years younger than me. Little rascals, those three,” he explained. “I’m in the middle, wearing the green velvet suit thing. My dad’s on my left and my mom’s on my right.”

Ascian hesitated, nodding. “They- they seem lovely, Vesper,” he whispered.

“Seemed.”

“Er, what?”

Vesper turned to him, pain masked behind his dark eyes. Ascian knew that look all too well. “My parents are dead, Ascian. And my siblings, they got- they got taken away from me. I don’t know where they are. I’m looking for them, but… it’s been years. I don’t know if I’ll get them back.” The misery in the other’s voice shocked him. His mouth hung slightly open, concern written on his face. A small part of him, a part he snuffed out immediately, was grateful that Vesper told him. That he… trusted him enough to tell him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Vesper shook his head, moment of vulnerability ended. “Don’t bring it up again, dipshit. I’m telling you that because I don’t want you prying later.” Ascian’s shoulders dropped. It was foolish to think it was a matter of trust. Vesper was just biting the bullet before he could offer it.

“Obviously I won’t bring it up, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom.”

Vesper’s room was quiet. His soft breathing kept a steady rhythm as Ascian stared up at the ceiling. Moonlight shone through the partially closed blinds, marking silver lines along the room. His mind was sluggish but refused to sleep, much to his chagrin. Snippets of arguments, insults taken too far, and moments of vulnerability played over and over in his head. He turned onto his side, curling up into a ball of sorts, hiding his face in the blanket. He knew no one saw him, but the blush creeping on his face still embarrassed him. It was only made worse by the realization of the fact that here he was, sharing a room with Vesper Drakos and wearing his clothes. He groaned quietly, cursing Rowan’s school.

At some point in the night, he must have fallen asleep. That was the only explanation for why he shot up at midnight, tears streaming down his face and ghostly blood leaking from where the crystals jutted out of his body. He tried to keep his hyperventilating quiet, he really did. He didn’t want to wake up Vesper unless the memories got too much to deal with. But here Vesper was, kneeling at his side and shaking him by his shoulders.

“Ascian! Ascian, breathe. Whatever you may be thinking, whatever nightmare you may have had, it wasn’t real. Don’t worry. You’re safe, you’re alright. You’re…” the other trailed off, hesitating before finishing his sentence. “You’re not in the cave.” He muffled a sob, looking at Vesper with teary eyes.

“L-Lights… ple-please.” Vesper nodded, immediately getting up and flicking on the lightswitch. Soft yellow light filled the room immediately, and Ascian sighed. The panic tight in his chest loosened a little, and he replayed Vesper’s words in his head. Breathe, breathe, breath…

Vesper knelt at his side again, going to put his arms around Ascian before hesitating. “Can I touch you?” Ascian shook his head, pulling his knees to his chest. He didn’t want to feel closed in, he didn’t want to feel like he was back in the cave. Vesper nodded understandingly, pulling back. He continued to whisper comforts to Ascian, who whispered them to himself. As his breathing finally evened out, he shakily got up. Ves was at his side in a second, steadying him. “Where do you want to go?” He asked softly. Ascian pointed towards the bathroom.

Ves gently guided him there, opening the door and turning the lights on for him. He threw him a grateful look and turned the faucet on, splashing cold water on his face. He always found it a little funny how he could still interact with water despite being a ghost. Vesper leaned against the door, trying but failing to mask his concern. Their entire group of four people knew about his panic attacks, thankfully, which made explaining a lot easier.

“Have… have the attacks been happening more often? Altair mentioned something about that.” Ascian shrugged, voice still raw from crying.

“They’ve gone up again, yeah. It’s not as bad as around my death anniversary, but… it’s bad enough. I usually get by without disturbing Ro. Just send letters asking for stories to Altair, y’know?” He paused, wiping his face. “Sorry about waking you up, by the way.” Ves shook his head.

“I’d rather you wake me up than deal with that by yourself. I… I know how hard those can be. I get it.” Ascian smiled, nodding. “C’mon, you need to get back to sleep.”

The lights were off again, but Ascian just sat on his mattress, scared to fall asleep again. Vesper seemed to have fallen asleep quickly enough, his breathing evening out. The blinds were further open, alleviating the stress of the dark, but he still couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He shifted slightly, holding back a sigh, and placed his chin on the wooden border of Vesper’s bed. He closed his eyes, the heaviness of post-panic attack exhaustion setting in. As he almost dozed off, he heard Ves mumble sleepily.

“Ascian?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Did I bother you again?”

“Mm-mm. Do you… do you want to sleep on my bed? It may help because, um…” Ascian stiffened, feeling a blush rise. This had to be a dream. Vesper Drakos, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom of the group, was asking if he wanted to cuddle. He would have stopped breathing if he was alive.

“...Yeah. I’d like that.” Gathering his pillow and blanket, he floated onto the bed. Vesper had shifted over, giving the other plenty of space. He almost felt disappointed, but said nothing. The invitation to sleep here was comfort enough. Setting down his pillow, he wrapped himself in his blanket and laid down gently, sighing contentedly. He was acutely aware of Vesper laying next to him, steady and strong. He scooted just a little closer so that the other was in arm’s reach. Just in case, of course.

He waited for Ves’s breathing to even out again, a sure indicator that the other was asleep, before closing his own eyes and relaxing his incorporeal body. As sleep overtook his mind again, he felt Ves shifting. Before he could look, though, arms wrapped around him. He remained slack, this time out of shock. He stayed still, riding the high of this experience as euphoria mixed with sleepiness. As he was dozing off, he felt a kiss be placed on his forehead. He smiled, drawing closer to the other. Ves pulled him in sleepily, resting his cheek against his head. His smile widened, and he bid him goodnight as sleep swept over the two.

[theonlythingimfuckingisstupid]

toads made their way into my window well and now i can hear them moving around. this is not going to end well

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

btw i did that snowflake outline method thing for convalescence last night. i shall puty it below the Line

Jackal Hadrurus, the son of The Great Scorpion, is born in the Desert - with no idea all that awaits him. He was unwanted as soon as he was born, for his father didn't want a daughter and his mother never wanted a child at all. Still, his parents decided to make do with what they had: Dawn learned to love her child, to teach and raise him, and his father began teaching him to be a weapon. Jackal turned out to be a very capable learner, excelling in both the academics and combat he was taught. Nonetheless, his parents were never truly happy with him - and the child could tell. He's long since dreamed of living a different life.

After his mother disappears in the sands, his father's cruelty doubles; it takes the boy's eye in the process. He was only ten when it happened; The Scorpion regularly had Jackal face opponents in the arena, pushing him to fight as fiercely as he could. The training, however unethical it was, turned out to be efficient: Jackal quickly became one of the most stealthy and dangerous things in the Desert. Still: one misplaced movement cost him greatly. "A reminder," his father told him, "of what shall happen to you if you fail."

When The Fires come and take life, Jackal's forced with a decision: to escape this life he's always ran from, or turn the page and bring hope back to the town. He's spent eighteen years dreaming of a moment that would grant him passage out of the Desert. There's now nothing that stands in his way - all he'd have to do is make it to Eagle's Negligence and take a train to the coast. He never wanted to be his father's heir, he never wanted this life, he never wanted to be who he was made to be.

His hand is played when someone closest to him reveals they care very little about the fate of the people wronged by Jackal's father - could he forsake people who'd never asked for this life? They were connected, in that way: he knew their pain and ache, he knew their blood and tears. It was an opportunity that had never crossed Jackal's mind: he could change things. He could be better than his father, be fair and just instead of a cold tyrant. There were many who would oppose him, of course. The Great Scorpion had amassed a following and they did not seek peace.

The Basilisk's Grave was once a flourishing town, healthy and thriving, and it will take much to make it return to such a state. It had never been easy to survive in the Desert, but The Scorpion's tail pricked in deep - it will take Jackal years to rebuild the town, let alone help it heal. It's a burden he never expected, let alone planned for, but he is more than capable. Some even say that his coming was foretold, that he is a Savior, that he's been led along by fate to this position. The scars will fade, but the wound may bleed for a while longer.