#IN HER SPECTRE FORM

[sofiiif]

[majosullivan]

HOW ARE WE FEELING RIGHT NOW NEVERMORE FANDOM? ARE WE ABOUT TO LOSE IT? ARE WE HANGING ON BY THE THINNEST OF THREADS?

[stinkypeanutbutter]

here me out . .

Nevermore X SBG au .

you can applaud me now ☝️

[eschercaine]

SPOILER ALERT: Nevermore Academy students in their Spectre forms (3/?)

[verdemoth]

i’ve posted this set of guys together in a lineup but i never got around to sharing more about them individually, so i’m gonna do that!

Tune here is an original member of the EEG, one of the first researchers approached by Sojourner and Pathfinder, the founders, back when the whole operation was just some barely funded passion project, and the properties of the Otherworld were poorly understood. She was a team leader for decades up until he met a tragic demise on what should have been a routine mission. He’s since been declared M.I.A. (in truth she Stayed Alive Wrong)

-> Tune and Odyssey were queerplatonic partners. They met each other in their school years and hit it off quickly. They signed on with the project as a package deal and for years they were a team of two and both set out for field research and exploration, but following an Incident that injured them both, Odyssey left the field for a different role and the various teams were consolidated into one unit for safety reasons. As a precaution, future expeditions would need at least three active participants.

-> Tune was very confident and self-assured, and naturally fell into a leadership role within the new system. He had a knack for assessing and utilizing the strengths of her teammates and encouraging teamwork and communication.

-> In the early days they were quite cocky and perhaps a bit too reckless, but the decades of her employment with the EEG mellowed her out somewhat. What really drew her to the initial job offer was the thrill of adventuring in uncharted lands full of unknown dangers.

-> In general, Opportunity tended to prioritize the pursuit of knowledge above his own safety, though being in charge of a team who depended on her for their own well-being helped to balance out this impulse.

-> In that early incident, Tune received a concussion that had lasting effects in the form of frequent migraines and insomnia. She wasn’t very vocal about her struggles, and he was more inclined to push through the pain than slow down and wait for it to pass.

-> Age didn’t temper her active lifestyle, either. As she neared her 50s they were still up to shit like free climbing vertical cliffs to get a good vantage point (and for the fun of it).

-> She was up to just that, on a mission with her sibling Spirit and friend Curiosity when a terrible, unnatural storm hit without warning. The Otherworld had always been a turbulent place, the landscape and climate always changing, but the team’s experience and technology should have been enough to sense the shift coming, but it caught them unawares.

-> Tune and his two teammates lost contact with mission control and each other for more than an hour. When the storm cleared, Curiosity and Spirit and the two constructs accompanying them were all recovered, but no trace of Opportunity could be found. Reluctantly, the team came to the decision to abandon the search.

-> Opportunity still exists, in some form. They haven’t had a run in with her old team in the few years since her disappearance. Mentally she’s not all there, retaining only their instincts and basic desires. He’s generally passive, but whatever the storm did to him left them with a connection to the shifting terrain of the Otherworld, which responds to their presence and volatile feelings. She’s usually surrounded by a storm like the one that changed her. He wants to be found, but… if she encountered and recognized her team, it’s likely he would seek to drive them out with force in a misguided attempt to protect them from the Otherworld’s many hazards.

[cursed-spectre]

Spectre was sitting down at a desk, when Tama appeared and pulled on her skirt.

"Hm? Yes, Tama?"

The young girl looked up at her mother and put out her hands, showing her chipped silver claw like nails.

"Oh, is it that time already? I must've lost track. Alright." Spectre got out of her chair and held onto Tama's hand. "Let's go get yours done now, shall we?"

Tama nodded.

The two sat down of the ground, facing eachother. Spectre grabbed a small basket of bottles.

"Do you feel like humoring Ai this time and going pink?" She chuckled when her daughter quickly shook her head. "Alright, got it. Black again, right?"

Tama nodded, and Spectre took out what she needed.

"I'm happy I get to do this with you, Tama," said Spectre as the tiny brush coated the metal nails in black. "It's very soothing. For both of us, I think." She finished going over the last nail. "I still don't know how you have these, but we both really like them, don't we?"

Tama smiled brightly with a nod.

"I still think we should match one day. Give you nice light blue ones."

She frowned and shook her head. Spectre laughed.

"I'm joking, I'm joking. It should be dry enough, so come here, spirit."

Tama used her solver to float onto her mother's lap, and said mother hugged her waist.

"...thanks."

Spectre warmly smiled. "Always." She kissed Tama's hair.

[muntitled]

Better Than Drugs

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader | Brief!Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games.

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, High sex, Dub/con, Choking, Exchange of Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Unedited (we die like soldiers)

A/n: literally no one will read this but I need him and I wrote this for me!

Being treated like a lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter in a death game sucked ass but seeing your ex boyfriend there sucked even more, somehow. From your vantage point perched on your bed tucked away from all the central conflict, you notice them talking about you again.

Call it past bully traum but you knew when people were talking about you and although you couldn't make out what they were saying, a part of you just knew...

Another vote had ended and Namgyu was still staring at you, his head bowed, chewing his fingernails. He was watching you, while you were forced to watch as democracy crumbled around you.

Your brain made you think Namgyu was perhaps berating you in front of his new friend. Bad-mouthing you to absolutely no end, perhaps saying what a lousy, uptight girlfriend you had been in the outside world. How you kept him from his habit. How you tried to force him into rehab countless times.

And so you shrink into yourself, squeezing yourself further into your bed, hugging your knees.

How were you supposed to know the conversation went nothing like how you thought it was going?

"We need to get her on our team," Thanos had said when the voting concluded and they were watching you pick at your roll of tin-foiled kimbap.

"She's already on our team," Namgyu muttered, more quiet than usual as he watched you through the corner of his eye. He didn't feel like eating. He felt like doing drugs. And fucking, maybe, but eating? It never occurred to him.

Without you to remind him to eat, and to actually take care of his bodily health outside of his substance abuse, he really was a mess.

"Oh yeah," Thanos muttered dumbly before turning back to his own food, "Kay, well, I need to sleep with her."

Namgyu didn't even look up from his food, still leaning against the metal beds as he murmured a quiet, "Nope." Popping his lip, extenuating the 'p'

Thanos himself was rallied into silence as Namgyu casually clicked his tongue before adding, "I called dibs on that bro," he steals another glance. You're searching your chest for a piece of cucumber that's fallen out of the kimbap

This unfortunately, zeroes his gaze in on your ample chest, miraculously squeezed into that tracksuit jacket. Now Namgyu was thinking about your tits while Thanos' head whips to the side, his brow lifted.

Namgyu couldn't take his eyes off you since the games began. Watching you during voting time had stirred up all kinds of lost emotions. The easy and almost thoughtless way you had pressed the blue button before tucking your hands in your pockets, never sparing anyone a second glance. He had to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpant. If it weren't for him you might have continued to go amongst the games as an anonymous spectre, with that cash prize as your only goal.

"I didn't know we were calling dibs!?" Thanos stomped his feet petulantly, "That's not fair, man. Not. Cool."

"That's the point of dibs," Namgyu said, pushing his hair behind his ears as he continued to stare you down. "Who knows how long we'll be here?" As he watched you, he tilted his head downwards, causing a thick shadow to fall over his eyes as he watched you. He leaned against the railings of the metal beds piled up to the ceiling, watching you tuck your hands deeper into the sleeves of your sweater. Really fucking cute.

"B-But Homies don't call dibs on girls!" Thanos whines.

"Yeah," Namgyu nods, "but, I'm gonna need more than magic pills and a homie to get me through the night," He made a ring with his index and thumb finger, pinching his one eye shut as he spied at you through it, "She can help,”

Thanos was quiet, eerily so. Good things never happened when Thanos was quiet,

"Let's go over to her right now then. Since she's stealing my homie-"

That immediately snapped Namgyu out of his lust-filled gaze, promoting his shoulders to straighten as he tried to stop Thanos from taking another step towards you.

"Senorita-" he said in a singsong voice and you rolled your eyes as you saw them approaching. Namgyu walked behind like the shadow he always tried to be, with his hands tucked in his pocket. Your bed is relatively low to the ground and your heart stammered when both their shadows fell over you.

"Don't have any change," your eyes whipped to your ex-boyfriend before narrowing, "Or drugs. Sorry." you mustered a painfully sarcastic smile as you attempted to turn in another direction, hoping they might take the hint.

Thanos' teeth stretched as Namgyu swallowed thickly, watching you in that distinctly predatory way of his as he propped his forearm against the railing of the bed. You hate how both of them make you feel and your eye scans in vain around the premises, hoping someone might save you from the duo.

"Lemme make this quick," Thanos said with his drug addicted hand gestures. "My bro wants you and whatever bro wants-" he taps Namgyu's chest behind you- "Bro gets."

Silence passed with you staring deep into Namgyu's dark, almost sinister black eyes. You admitted that you were still painfully attracted to him. Knowing that he knows your body. He's already seen what hid under your blue tracksuit, it was dizzyingly sobering.

He still seemed so devastatingly sleezy it bordered on attractive, like he didn't care about what anyone really thought of him. It still brought an uncomfortable amount of attraction that you didn't really know what to do with. "No thanks," you said, bending your head to take a bite of the kimbap.

"Cunt." you heard him mumble under his breath. That caused your head whip up to glare at him.

"I'm a cunt because I'd rather not fuck a drug addict?"

"No," Namgyu shrugged, "You're just a cunt."

Your nostrils flared as something diabolical ignited inside you. Up until this point, fear had been the only emotion you allowed yourself to feel. The fear of dying to keep you alive. But right now, you're being plagued with another emotion and it's setting you alight with interest.

Your dating preferences were never orthodox. You knew you could never truly be satisfied with any other timid nice guy, and that's what drew you to him. You hated admitting to it but Namgyu calling you a cunt did more than irritate you, it ignited you.

"I'm not here to make friends,” You marvel now, in the tense darkness, how confident you had been then.

“How about a boyfriend then?” Namgyu asked and Thanos whistled lowly as he mutters a ‘nice bro,’

“How about choking?” You shot back, “I tried the boyfriend thing and he stole all my savings to buy drugs.” Namgyu’s jaw ticked and you can see his fist fold and unfold. Thanos’ commentary continues. ‘Shit boyfriend-’ he says under his breath.

“Don't be a bitch so early in the morning…” Namgyu says finally before turning his head, somewhat distracted, “Or at least I think it's morning. Hyung do you think it's morning-”

Thanos raised his hands, “Morning is what we make it in here, bro.”

“Leave me alone of I'll fucking scream.” you cut through all their useless chatter, letting a tense silence settle between the three of you. Eventually, Thanos reluctantly pulls Namgyu away. Murmuring a quiet ‘just take a hint bro.'

Soon, you were left in your bed but not without one more backwards glance from Namgyu over his shoulder. He wasn't done with you and that thought sat heavily on your shoulders until the robotic voice from unseen speakers made the countdown to lights out.

The very last thing you remembered, before the overhead lights were snuffed out, was his black, almond eyes still watching you from his bed.

The blue 'O' velcroed to your breast burns a hole through your conscience as your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night, really needing to pee. The prize money acts as the only source of gold light illuminating the hall while everyone else remains soundly asleep.

Life in the games was so much more stomachable during the day, but when the lights went out, you were forced to sit with your thoughts. That piggy bank didn't have money inside it, it held bodies, and the ghosts practically filled this room.

Still, you can't help but whisper to yourself, “I really have to pee.” The only thing stopping you from going to the bathroom is the gaze you knew would somehow find you from three beds over. Your ex boyfriend watches you, even when the lights go out.

Paranoia be damned.

Cursing softly, you maneuvered yourself to the ground. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you moved through the row of beds.

If you were being followed you'd never know. Everything was too dark but a part of you sighed as you reached the small arched doorway completely unscathed.

Almost unscathed.

Your heart hammers in its cage when you feel his heavy arm settle over your shoulders. Your mouth falls open but Namgyu is already banging on the arched door with a closed fist. You flinch with every loud, metallic hit.

The little window opens to reveal a triangle-masked soldier. He stands there emotionless.

“My girlfriend's on her period- she's bleeding everywhere. We need the bathroom.”

There is silence from the Guard who is clearly unimpressed. Just before the little window is about to slide shut Namgyu kicks at the door, “Hey! I wanna fuck my girl- if you want, we could do it out here?!”

You try to wrench yourself out of his grip, toilet be damned but your heart absolutely sinks to find the pink soldier opening the metal door.

Namgyu only twirls, pumping his fist before pulling you in his arms, biting back a smile.

“Can't believe that worked,” Namgyu says, with a raised eyebrow and a happy little shrug as he drags you across the threshold. The trip to the women's bathroom is relatively short as you writhe and fight in his hands. There's virtually no reason for the pink guard to think any of this was consensual but they kept their stoicism on their face as you reached the girl's bathroom.

“We'll be quick,” Namgyu assures the guard with a tight sort of smile before pushing you into the bathroom, and closing the door after himself.

You trip on your way running into one of the stalls and he watches you, biting his nail.

“This is the girls bathroom, or are you too high to notice?” You hiss absolute venom as he bites his fingernail.

“Nah, I'm sober right now, which means I need something to take the load off.”

“Cool. Use your hand,” you sigh from within the stalls before dropping your pants to pee. It irked you that he was standing there, on the other side… waiting for you.

You make quick work of it all. Wiping, flushing, and making a beeline for the sinks. He lets you wash your hands but before you make it to the door his arms are wrapped around your waist.

“Uh Uh,” he tsks, “No ‘i miss you’ kiss, huh?” He drags you into his arms, kicking and screaming as he swipes your brains from across your panicked face.

“Only competent boyfriends get kisses,” Despite the fuss, the door doesn't open. Those guards have quite literally abandoned you in here to fend for yourself.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, “I miss you really bad, baby,” Namgyu's pushing your back against the sink, stained with that sickening, pastel colour as he lowers his nose into the crook of your neck. You writhe as he breathes you in deeply, before sighing. His erection pressed against your thigh.

“Someone else could walk in here,” you cry, feeling a dampness seep out of you, wetting your underwear. Your body was being traitorous because it was enjoying feeling anything other than fear. It yearned for it.

“Sto-” you attempt to catch your breath as he gropes at your breasts from over your tracksuit. “Stop touching me-” you say despite your legs getting weaker and weaker.

“You don't get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you stopped being my boyfriend.” He was so much taller than you when he stretched his hand across your cheeks, forcing your neck back to make more space for his lips. A moan nearly spills out of you.

His hands are trembling and his tongue swipes out to lick the length of your neck. To your shock and horror, you melt in his grasp.

“You don't mean that-” he whispers against your skin. “No one's gonna fuck you like I do-”

“No one's going to steal my money like you do either-”

His hand flies down to your throat, choking as he says through clenched teeth, “I told you I had a problem-” he squeezes and for the briefest moment, you see stars. “I needed help and you abandoned me, you bitch-”

“I didn't abandon you-” His lips are on yours, silencing you in one messy kiss that him forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“You gonna be good for me, Huh?’ He says, hoarsely, your eyes glare up at him.

“Leave me alone-”

“You know I love it when you try to fight back,” his mouth breathes against your hair, “You trying to get me riled up babe, huh?”

His fingers find the lining of your own sweatpants and your heart stammers as he turns to push your front against the sink. Your hand grips at the cheap plaster and you avoid your own traitorous reflection in the mirror, lest you find not only fear in your eyes, but lust

“You know how bad I've needed this- fuck,” his voice cracks when fumbles his cock out, grinding against your ass with his eyes closed in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open. Your finger curls around the sink as the first moan slips out of you. It had his eyes flying open to look down at you in amusement and awe.

“I knew you weren't a completely stuck-up bitch,” he says, pulling you up by the base of the throat, “I knew you still wanted me.”

“I don't,” you squeak out as he pulls down your pants.

“No- but your body does,” he swipes your underwear to the side.

Your body spasms as he roughly sinks his digits into you once before pulling out.

“You miss me real bad,” he brings your fingers up in front of your face and your heart drops to find the arousal webbing his index and middle.

He continues to swipe your arousal from from your ass to your puffy clit and the need wracks through your entire body, building as you arched your ass backwards against him.

His mouth is by your ear, breathing heavily as he lines his cock up at your entrance, already leaking precum, “I know I gave you hell when we were out there-”

“Hell doesn't begin to cover- FUCK-” he rams his cock into you. Positively brimming with need as his hips stutter against you.

“Y-ou stole my fucking savings for drugs-” you get the sentence out quickly before moaning into the air, as your boyfriend fucks out all the frustration he's been carrying, all the need and the withdrawal.

“And I ate you out as an apology-” He reaches his hand around to clamp down on the base of your throat. Your mouth falls open when he cranes our neck back, his eyes boring into yours. “Don't you miss it baby, don't miss having me inside of you?”

“Y-Your eyes are diluted-” you begin to say, utterly incredulous. “You're high right now!”

His hips thrusts in shallow, quick strokes. “And your pussy's wet, guess we're both fucked.”

Your pussy tightens around him like a long lost friend, it knocks you out how deeply you've craved him. Needing reprieve from all the fear. “You're squeezing around my cock, you fucking slut-” that nearly has you seeing stars. Your body spasms.

“That it…” he whispers, “Don't think I haven't forgotten the way you abandoned me out there… But in here,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, “You dont so much as fucking breathe without my permission.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as his cock hits that particular pillow of nerves inside you, nearly flipping you off the edge.

“Spit on my hand,” he says, an edge to his voice that let you know he was far too close. You forgot how messy things got when you had sex with him. How much of a mess he made of you.

You do it without thinking about it and his eyes widen as he presses that same hand to your clit.

“F-Fuck!” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he reaches around to rub you to your orgasm. His movements only fumble when his hips start stuttering.

“N-Need you to cum for me-” he breathes out. “I’m jittery- baby. I need it- shit-” you slip into your orgasm right in front of him, milking his cock for all its worth. “F-Fuck this is so much better than drugs,” he murmers, eyes rolled back as a drunken smile ghosts over his face. He's in complete and utter euphoria.

Two rough knocks on the door signal the need for your return but Namgyu's cock is still spilling ropes of his cum inside you and you're doing nothing but taking it.

“I hate you,” you breathe out, because it's true. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be here.

His breath is warm against your neck as he says, “I love you too.

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[theabigailthorn]

We know you were on accutane. Stop lying

not that it would matter if I had, and not that it's any of your business, but I have in fact never taken accutane.

This is a useful teaching moment though, because what you're doing is a well-studied phenomenon in digital media called 'policing fake femininity.' It's a thing people do to women in the public eye, a specific kind of criticism centred around accusations of being inauthentic, fake, or having cheated in some way. Often it's men doing the policing but women do it to each other a lot too, there are whole websites dedicated to it in fact. Often those criticisms centre around our appearances, as yours did here.

It's sometimes a response to perceived inequality, of which there is plenty! Women in the public eye - myself included - do benefit from a lot of privilege. I've always been quite open about that. People who engage in that kind of public bullying often tell themselves that because of the privilege (or perceived privilege) of their targets the fake femininity policing is socially justified, or the fault of the target. But it doesn't really do anything to correct the structural problems that give rise to that inequality.

In their paper "Policing Fake Femininity," scholars Brooke Duffy, Kate Miltner, and Amanda Wahlstedt say,

“The solution to the structural concerns associated with capitalist patriarchy is not, we contend, to label individual influencers “stupid famewhores” and disparage their mental health in ways that invoke the spectre of hysteria (e.g., “batsh*t crazy,” “delusional,” and “lunatic”). As Chemaly [Rage Becomes Her, 2018] argues, it is necessary that girls and women express their anger, but such a directive “is not an endorsement of unbridled rage, or permission to deliver a swift roundhouse kick to the face of anyone who upsets you, or to regularly fill the spaces you live and work in with hostility and discomfort.” While venting anger at these influencers and their purportedly questionable choices may provide some form of much-needed catharsis, such gender-coded vitriol amplifies the rampant misogyny and toxicity that women already face in online environments.”

If you'd like to know more, I recommend:

Steve Cross & Jo Littler, “Celebrity and schadenfreude: The cultural economy of fame in freefall,” in Cultural Studies

Brooke Duffy, Kate Miltner, & Amanda Wahlstedt, “Policing “fake” femininity: Authenticity, accountability, and influencer anti-fandom,” in New Media & Society

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[thebubblesareevil]

Only the best Kings wear pink! Pt 1

Pt 2

Danny had decided, inter-lair political party meeting briefings were a truly underutilized form of torture that he personally thought should be inflicted upon only the worst kinds of criminals; not your King.

Fright Knight disagreed.

At least he finally let him move around instead of suffering through forced resurrection via boredom (it’s happened before, not a fun meeting). That being said, he would admit to being a little distracted by all the servants rushing around frantically. It had even managed to distract Fright.

No one seemed panicked so clearly it wasn’t an attack, but what….

Danny felt someone staring at him. He covertly nodded to Fright to keep talking as he created an invisible clone to search for his stalker.

He didn’t have to look far, they weren’t hiding very well. Not 20 ft away a young ghost gawked at him from behind a column. She had her glowing blonde hair in 2 braided pigtails and her ragged dress looked like she came from one of the medieval lairs. Danny carefully kneeled down, trying to make himself look small as he tapped her on the shoulder.

The little girl spun around, clearly terrified at being caught. Danny gave her a soft smile.

“Please don’t eat me Mr Ghost King sir!!!” She cried out.

Danny snorted and burst out laughing. His booming laughter echoed though the castle walls causing many of the servants to pause in their search.

“Now why in the realms would you think I’m going to eat you?!” Danny asked though his chuckles. “You wouldn’t be more than a bite full at best.” He poked her sides causing her to giggle.

“Would too! I’m bigger the Sally!” She paused, rethinking her words. “But I’d taste quite foul! I would, I swear!”

Danny grinned turning to Fright Knight. The little ghost squeaked when she saw the Spirit of Halloween and backed into the King causing her to freeze.

Danny gently picked her up, cradling her in one arm. “Did you hear that Fright?! She said she’d taste foul!” He smirked “I suppose there’s only one thing to do then!”

Fright Knight eyed his King a bit warily, still not used to his antics. “Sire?”

Danny grinned, motioning to one of the nervous maids. “We‘ll have to sweeten her up!”

Miette bowed before her King, trying to hide her nervous glances at the girl.

“Miette! Would you be a dear and prepare some sweets and tea in the garden for my honored guest? Fright, will you be joining us?” Danny asked the startled Knight.

“As you wish my Liege, though…might I request some pumpkin pie?” He asked Miette.

The maid blinked at the request.

“Of course Sir Fright.” She answered a bit dazed.

“Wonderful! We’ll meet you in the garden after we swing by Spectre’s quarters.” He grinned down at the frightened ghost. “Every princess must look her best for afternoon tea after all!”

The little girl frowned. “But I’m not a princess?” She said, tilting her head.

“Of course you are! Every little girl is a princess! That’s just a fact of life.” Danny nodded solemnly.

“But we’re not alive?” She pouted “Mummy said so!”

Danny shrugged. “That doesn’t change much, I’m still alive after all so it still counts.” He said finally.

They stopped in front of two massive doors covered in random drawing. Danny knocked on the door. The little ghost shrunk back in Danny’s arms.

The door opened to reveal a young ghost, not much bigger than the one in his arms.

“Hey Ellie!” Danny grinned. “Do you have any princess dresses left or did you set them all on fire?”

Ellie groaned. “Lilac just restocked the closet. You’d think she’d learn by now.”

Danny grinned. “Perfect! Would you mind helping our guest into one of them? She’s joining us for tea!”

Ellie floated up to see the tiny ghost trying to make herself smaller in her dad’s arms.

“Oh? And who are you?” She asked curiously.

“Emma.” She squeaked. Ellie grinned.

“Alright Emma, how do you feel about pink?!”

———

A little while latter you could find the Ghost King: ruler of the infinite realms, Fright Knight: the most feared general of the Kings legion and little Emma: the little princess from 2 Lairs over (only on the 5th of each month); newly decked out in a glowing tiara and the frilliest pink dress Ellie could find (with no singes); all sitting in the Royal gardens in Phantoms keep debating the merits of pink sparkles vs rainbow glitter.

Her mother nearly wept in relief that her daughter was safe, though she was a bit dazed by what she was seeing.

“You must be Emma’s mum!” Danny grinned. “We were just finishing up afternoon tea.

Emma jumped from her seat and raced over to her mummy to tell her all about her day.

“I’m so sorry for my daughter’s intrusion, your majesty!” She cried out, fear outweighing shock as she quickly bowed.

“Nonsense!” Danny laughed, looking down at Emma. “You’re welcome here anytime Emma. After all, you never did tell me what happened to you Aunt Agatha.” He smiled “You’ll have to finish your story next time.”

Emma ran up to give Danny a hug, he happily picked her up and held the young ghost.

“Thank you for the tea and cakes Mr ghost king! Can I bring Beatrice next time? She’ll never believe me otherwise!”

Danny chuckled. “The more the merrier, though I suggest you give your mother some proper warning before you run off to strange lairs without permission.”

Emma pouted. “I promise!” She swore as Danny handed her to her mother.

Danny was a little sad to see the little girl go but he had plenty of work to do.

“Sire, shall we continue the briefing?” Fright Knight piped up.

Danny groan, Fright Knight grinned. (He liked his new king)

———

The next month, when the lairs lined up once more Danny was greeted with the grinning Emma, the frightened faces of at least 6 other little ghosts and the nervous form of Emma’s mother.

Danny grinned. “Miette!” He shouted behind him. “Can you bring some more tables to the gardens. It looks like we’re having a proper tea party this time!”

And so began to annual monthly tea party at Phantom’s keep.

(Lilac was so glad to see all the dresses she made put to good use)

[brain4stew]

hiiiii!!! is it okay if we get romantic 1x4 x killer reader hcs 😇😇 the reader is basically just like. always in at least a bit of pain due to their transformation and doesn't speak often or well due to it!!!!

*accidentally forgets to close door and you see me in my bedroom sniffing your writing as I grab it with my teeth and eat it like I have rabies but in a good way* JWJSGSHAHSSUAHZHZXHSHAHS

“WOAH HEY!” — Marcille from Dungeon Meshi.

MY WRITING!!

But yes, I shall, LMAO.

(Note: Characters may be ooc, since I do not know how the characters actually will work/be like!)

That being said, here is your request under the cut! ;

1x4 and their lovely killer partner.

I’m surprised that you mamaged to get into a loving, and somehow happy relationship with this green genderfluid glowstick…

The first time you and 1x4 saw each other was when you were a survivor, and kind of… Snapped in the middle of their round as the killer.

You were obviously frustrated and angry at your fellow survivor teammates. Trying your very best to keep them alive. But. They. Don’t. LEARN.

So imagine this glowstick’s shock when she sees your transformation from survivor… To that of a killer.

He just, stands still where he is, watching as you wreck havoc and chaos on your previous teammates.

After your… Carnage…? You’re just a sobbing, confused, angry mess, whilst being in an awful lot of pain. (You’re on your knees just staring at your now clawed hands, filled with blood.)

They watch for a while, before they cautiously approaches you, and just stand by you. The only thing you see is their legs in your peripheral vision.

Neither of you speak for the remainder of the round, but when it ends. You and 1x4 are both transported to the killer’s cabin.

Surprisingly, 1x4 holds a hand out for you to take. You of course, hesitate, because you are originally a survivor, but now… You’re not sure. But you grasp her hand either way, allowing her to pull you up to your feet.

They carefully guide you to their room, and let you sit down on their bed. (Not sure if killers really need to sleep, other than the kids…)

He inspects your new form, asking questions. But, when you don’t respond, and point to your throat, he understands that you have issues talking.

She helps you learn about your new form, and occasionally helps you out whenever the pain is overbearing for you.

1x4 being patient and loving… To you.

They hate seeing you in so much pain, they even asked the Spectre for some sort of pain relief items. (They got painkillers thrown straight at their face…)

She holds your clawed hands within theirs, and watches other killer’s rounds with you. Just to see you smile upon seeing the survivors struggling, and dying from the killer’s.

Whenever you get drowsy and fall asleep, he surprisingly lets you sleep in his bed. (If you need someone to be near you while you sleep, or need to hug/hold someone while you sleep then… He’s there.)

1x4 may have sudden bursts of rage, but they call down after a while, when you comb your claws through their hair, and hold them close.

You once picked her up, holding her close to you, and she surprisingly became drowsy and fell asleep in your arms. (That’s the only time you actually managed to mutter a small “I love you,” to her, but she was out like a light.)

There are rare occasions where you’ll be paired with 1x4 to kill the survivors. But that is mostly because 1x4 knows how much you are in pain, due to your transformation.

On one of those rounds, when Two Time backstabbed 1x4, causing him to be stunned, you actually went ballistic. Chasing Two Time with a growl, and full on… (Hell for Two Time to be exact.)

When you get back to 1x4, you actually mutter something again, but it was loud enough for them to hear. “I won’t let you… Get hurt on my watch…”

She malfunctioned at that. (SHE LOVED IT.)

You’re always seen near, or by 1x4. Whenever it’s a solo killer run, you’ll be in their room, watching them. And they’ll be in their round, watching you.

He’s utterly stupidly in love, it’s funny.

(I GENUINELY HAVE NO IDEA IF THIS IS ALRIGHT ENOUGH, ANON. 😞🫶 BUT TAKE THE FOOD YOU HUNGRY BEAST /HJ)

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Reflections of Shame

Summary - She faces the scorn of Prince Jacaerys, who despises her for what she represents. Their bitter confrontation unravels pain, and understanding begins to form as threads of trust emerge between them. What starts with venom transforms into something far more complex.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Mild language

Word count - 2265

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Before the war had sunk its claws into the Targaryen family, sinking its teeth like a ravenous beast, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had never been anything but courteous—a princely figure who embodied grace and nobility. 

To imagine him now as anything less, let alone openly cruel, was once inconceivable. 

Yet here he was, transformed by conflict and burdened by suspicion and scorn, glaring down at me with eyes that held a tempest.

Of course, I was no ordinary maiden. I was a dragon seed, a name whispered with equal parts reverence and scorn. 

I had stumbled, quite literally, into destiny when I claimed the mighty Silverwing after wandering through a forgotten passageway. 

To many, I was a mystery; to others, an interloper with dragon fire in my veins. 

And to the prince, I was an affront. His disdain cloaked itself in subtle barbs and carefully metered sneers, each one laced with contempt that cut deeper than any sword.

Seated beside me was Hugh Hammer, a man whose reputation was also unknown. 

We spoke quietly of our dragons, two strangers drawn together by scales, fire, and circumstance. It was a curious sight—Hugh, a man of brute strength and feral ambition, sharing words with someone like me, a newcomer and a woman who still struggled to understand her place. 

Our dragons were as different as night and day, but in that moment, their riders shared a fragile bond of necessity.

The conversation stilled as the great doors opened, announcing the arrival of Queen Rhaenyra and her heir. 

Instinctively, I rose, fumbling only slightly as I dipped into a curtsy. 

My new gown of silken red clung to me with a weight I was not yet used to, a reminder of expectations I barely understood. 

The queen's presence commanded silence; her gaze swept the room, hard and implacable. She summoned Hugh with a gesture, and he departed with a bow, leaving me alone with the prince.

"My Prince," I greeted, my voice even as I lowered myself back onto the bench. 

Prince Jacaerys did not move, standing opposite me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. 

He observed me as if I were an unwelcome spectre—a ghost he could not banish and a burden he resented bearing.

For several agonizing moments, silence stretched between us. I forced myself to breathe, clasping my hands tightly to quell the trembling. 

"Is something the matter, my prince?" I ventured, keeping my tone light and respectful, though every muscle in my body tensed in anticipation.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes, dark and stormy, narrowed further. When he spoke, his voice was low and laced with venom. "Stop pretending."

The words struck like a whip. My breath caught, my pulse quickened, and I stared at him in stunned silence. 

This was no simple rebuke—it was an accusation, one that peeled away every fragile layer of decorum I had tried to build around myself. 

In his eyes, I was a fraud, a pretender who had dared to step into the realm of dragons. And no matter how much I tried to deny it, he would never let me forget that I was unwelcome.

The silence between us lingered, thick and suffocating, as I struggled to find my composure. 

Prince Jacaerys's eyes burned with barely restrained fury, his words heavy with disdain. 

Each passing second seemed to stretch into an eternity, and I knew whatever came next would cut me deeply, but I couldn't allow myself to falter. 

No matter how venomous his words, I had to endure them. 

A show of disrespect now could ruin me, perhaps even lead to consequences that no amount of pleading would undo.

His lips curled into a sneer. "You walk around this castle as if you belong here," he said, his tone like a blade. "Claiming a dragon does not make you one of us. You're nothing more than an intruder playing at power."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my hands trembling only slightly as they remained clasped in my lap. 

"I have done nothing but follow the orders given to me, my prince," I said quietly. "I mean no offence."

He stepped closer, looming over me. "Is that what you tell yourself? That you belong among those of true blood? That you're entitled to walk these halls and speak with queens and princes as if you are their equal?"

His words landed like blows, each one harder than the last. I wanted to look away, to shrink from his stare, but I could not afford to show weakness. 

"I have never claimed to be your equal," I said softly. "I am here only because of the dragon I was fortunate enough to bond with."

"Fortunate?" He scoffed, the derisive laughter echoing in the chamber. "You think this is fortune? No, you're a fool. A pretender who stumbled upon power she neither understands nor deserves."

My chest tightened, and I fought to keep my voice steady. "Why must you speak so cruelly to me? I have done nothing to earn your ire."

His eyes blazed with something beyond anger—something darker, more personal. "You breathe. You exist. That alone is offence enough."

For a moment, I could only stare at him, shock stealing the air from my lungs. 

He leaned closer, his words dripping with venom. "Tell me, what were you before all this? A whore? Did you find that life beneath you too?"

The insult struck me like a slap. I felt the blood drain from my face as I struggled to comprehend the depth of his malice. 

Swallowing hard, I forced myself not to react, even as his words twisted like a knife in my heart. 

"I do not know what I have done to warrant such hatred," I whispered, my voice cracking despite my best efforts. "Why be so cruel?"

His face twisted with rage, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I thought he might strike me. "Your entire existence upsets me!" he roared, the force of his words reverberating in the room.

Silence followed his outburst, the echo of his voice fading into nothingness. 

Tears burned at the edges of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I searched his gaze, trying to understand what could make him despise me so. 

"Why?" I whispered, the question escaping me unbidden. "Is it because I am a bastard... like you?"

At that, all colour drained from his face. He went utterly still, the rage in his eyes replaced by something cold and unreadable. 

For the first time, he was silent, and the room seemed to hold its breath. I watched him, waiting for another cruel word, another strike—but none came. 

Instead, he turned away, the storm in him retreating, leaving only the aching quiet between us.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The hours after the confrontation with Prince Jacaerys passed slowly, every moment weighed down by the memory of his scorn. 

I retreated to the solitude of my chambers, the heavy stone walls feeling more oppressive than ever. His words had echoed in my mind, each cruel syllable burrowing deep. 

Despite my best efforts, tears had fallen as I paced the room, replaying every jab, every moment of contempt in his eyes. 

I had thought myself strong enough to endure anything, but I was beginning to doubt.

Night fell, cloaking Dragonstone in shadow. The faint flicker of torchlight cast dancing shapes on the walls as I sat by the window, staring out at the distant stars. 

I did not hear the soft footsteps until it was too late. A knock at the door made me startle, and my heart leapt to my throat. 

Before I could answer, it opened, revealing the last person I wanted to see. Prince Jacaerys stepped inside, his features half-lit by the flickering light, and closed the door behind him.

Instinctively, I rose to my feet, every muscle tensed. "My prince," I managed, forcing a politeness I did not feel. "What brings you here at this hour?"

His expression was a mixture of regret and something else—something raw, unguarded. 

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze shifting around the room before settling on me. "I owe you an apology," he said at last, his voice rough. "I was... unforgivably cruel."

I stared at him, stunned. I had imagined many responses from him, but this was not one of them. 

"You made your feelings quite clear," I replied, my words cautious, careful. "Why apologize now?"

He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. "Because I was wrong," he said, his tone raw with emotion. "And because you deserve better than the words I flung at you."

I studied him, searching for the lie or the hidden barb, but all I saw was a man burdened by something heavy and painful. 

"Why?" I asked quietly. "Why do you hate me so?"

His jaw clenched, and he turned away, moving to the window. "It isn't you I hate," he said, his voice low. "Not truly. It's what you represent—a reminder of my own bastardy, of my mother's mistakes and the war that rages because of it." 

He paused, his shoulders tense. "When I look at you, I see every shadow I have tried to escape, every whisper of doubt that has haunted me since I was a child."

His admission left me breathless. I had expected bitterness, but not this raw vulnerability. 

"I never asked to be a reminder of your pain," I said softly. "All I wanted was to find my place here. To serve, to live."

He turned to me then, his eyes dark and unguarded. "I know." His voice was a whisper. "And I tried to make you small, to make you feel as worthless as I do when I think of what I am. It was wrong."

The weight of his confession pressed on my chest, and I took a hesitant step closer. 

"I am not here to be your enemy," I said. "I am not here to judge you for your birth, just as I hope you will not judge me for mine."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I will try," he said. "I cannot promise it will be easy. The shadows do not leave so easily."

"I understand," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

A fragile silence fell between us. I could feel the tension of unspoken words, of wounds barely healed and a thousand possibilities. 

When he moved closer, I did not step back. He reached for my hand, his touch hesitant, as if he expected me to pull away. When I didn't, he exhaled slowly. 

"You are stronger than I gave you credit for," he murmured. "And more than worthy."

There was something softer, something almost hesitant as if he was still grappling with the enormity of his own words.

"I have wronged you," he said quietly, his voice low but steady. "More deeply than I realized. And for that, I can only offer my apologies. Words alone are a poor substitute for the damage I have done."

I searched his face, trying to make sense of the change. "I... thank you, my prince. Your words mean more than you know."

A flicker of something—relief, perhaps—passed across his features, but it was fleeting. He stepped back, creating just enough distance that I felt like I could breathe again. 

"But words are not enough," he continued, a hint of determination hardening his voice. "I cannot change the past or erase what I have said, but I can try to make amends in other ways."

Confusion knit my brow. "Make amends? How?"

His lips curved, just barely, into a small, wry smile. "I would like to teach you," he said. "Myself."

"Teach me?" I echoed, unsure if I had heard him correctly. There was a tremor of disbelief in my voice. "What would you teach me?"

"Dragonriding," he said simply. "You have bonded with Silverwing, and that alone speaks of your strength and courage. But riding a dragon is more than just a bond. It is a skill, one that can mean the difference between victory and defeat in the skies. You deserve proper training."

I felt a surge of emotion—gratitude, disbelief, and even a flicker of hope—but I quickly shook my head. 

"I couldn't ask that of you. You are the heir. You have duties, responsibilities. There are far more important matters for you to attend to."

He stepped closer, the resolve in his gaze unyielding. "As heir, my duty is to protect the claim my mother fights for—and one day, my own. Ensuring that every dragon rider fighting for our cause is prepared is as important as any political duty. This war is not won by words and titles alone."

His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of urgency. He meant every word, and the weight of his conviction made it impossible to refuse. 

I met his gaze, feeling a strange and unexpected connection, an unspoken understanding that neither of us could deny. Slowly, I nodded.

"Very well," I said, my voice low but resolute. "If it is your wish, my prince."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the prince I had once thought incapable of kindness or grace stood before me. "It is," he replied. "Tomorrow, then."

With that, he turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps quieter now, as if he carried less weight upon his shoulders. 

When he glanced back, his expression was unreadable—a mix of determination and something I dared not name. 

But I saw it: the beginnings of something fragile, a chance to build trust where only pain had stood.

I watched him leave, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

A/n - back to college now and im hanging on by threads x

[wintergrofyuri]

there is an element if romance in every vessel/voice duo and im tired of ppl only seeing the shallow, hollow, Nothing love of damsel and smitten as the only romance between them.

nightmare shares her heart with paranoid, her deepest darkest fears. Her nightmares. they are both shackled by fear. they both want freedom.

beast and hunted are puzzle pieces. prey and predator. both slaves to instinct. dancing the dance of fight and flight.

spectre and cold are nothing. the lack of feeling, both physical and emotional. desperate to be freed from their numbness.

razor and cheated are a game. both unwilling to back down until a winner is declared. an itch only the other can scratch.

i could go on really. when slay the princess said it was a love story it fucking meant that shit. it is NOT just smitten and damsel and the heart of the shifting mound endings. love is not just one thing. love takes many forms. please. Please stop pretending that smitten and damsel are the only voice/vessel ship please PLEASE im LOSING it you arent even exploring their actual dynamic!!! THEY ARE A SHALLOW, FAKE LOVE, BROUGHT TOGETHER ONLY BC THEY THINK THEY NEED TO BE TOGETHER PLEEEEEEEEASE PLEASE PLEASE TREAT THEM AS SUCH

[bewitched-hours]

*getz clozer to ur face with big ol' eyez*

Guezz whooo ;33

It'z Zanon >:333

Zo could you maybe make a fic about [READER] being a moon zpawn thing-? Bazically, they were just normally watching the zurviverz zadly (rezting zad face) before they just randomly got teleported into the game, and the other zurvivorz are like: 'who the fuck are you???', meanwhile Two Time is like: 'THE SPAWN???' (wow, zhocker, I uzed an s!)

Anywayz, thiz waz juzt a zilly thing we had in our head, go abzolutely nuts for thiz thing if u wanna :3

OMG YES YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I'VE BEEN HOPING FOR AN ASK LIKE THIS- Zanon, you're an absolute angel!

Let's zay the reader's pronouns are She/Her this time around~

"What a pitiful bunch" was almost like your catchphrase at this point.

You were a deity of the Spawn, perched upon the moon like a goddess should be and watching over a realm where life and death had a never ending dance with one another.

It made you curious. Especially when you noticed two of them had looked familiar. Two Time and Azure.

You had watched them before, seeing how the cultists interacted and behaved. You always had an odd fascination with the little cult.

But the Spawn eventually tasked you with keeping watch on this realm, knowing that you were meant to watch over the potentially less stable of the two.

The Spectre never seemed to care much about your presence as you'd simply watch and sleep the whole time. There wasn't much else to do.

But today the Spectre seemed to have grown bored of routine and threw you into the middle of the round, even giving you a more familiar form to them so your ethereal one wouldn't burn their eyes.

Your arrival was announced with a loud ringing and a crash, ending with your new form sitting in a small crater in the middle of the map.

You had two sets of wings on your back. One bigger than the other but the larger pair was luckily above the smaller one. But there was also a small pair behind your ears, sticking out of your black hair like a charm.

On your front? The Spawn's logo. Perhaps to make sure your origins would be clear.

Looking around, you had a couple of survivors looking at you in shock before quickly pulling you up and helping you away to help them.

You were admittedly confused but you knew the spiel by now so you helped, promising to explain everything back at the cabin while the round slowly came to an end.

But the first thing you were greeted with was an excited gasp from the little cultist you've been watching. Two Time.

They spared no time asking you more questions than you could answer and you could only chuckle as you calmed them down so you could properly explain to everyone. And you spared no details either, given that they all deserved the truth.

But hearing you've been watching only seemed to fuel Two Times obsession.

It started innocently enough, to your surprise.

A bit extra help, praises to the Spawn, the whole mile.

You didn't have the heart to tell them their second life came from the Spectre and not the Spawn. You didn't want to lie but was it lying to keep it hidden since it's never spoken of...?

You actually grew fond of their affection, a strange pounding making itself known against your ribcage that utterly confused you.

You were already new to emotions and now this? Well, best to ask one of the more sane ones...

"Excuse me." You spoke softly as you approached the next best Survivor you came across. Elliot.

There was already a round going on with Two Time in the middle of it and in the background, you could even watch it on the TV. They were really motivated again but that wasn't your focus.

Elliot was simply startled, considering your footsteps were as silent as dust. "Oh- It's you- What's up?" He spoke nervously, only to relax when you showed nervousness as well.

"There is this new emotion I have encountered. Whenever I am with Two Time, their presence appears to warm up my body and I feel a strange pounding in my chest." You attempted to explain to the best of your abilities as you noticed Elliot seeming a little anxious.

He glanced back at the TV, making sure Two Time was still in the round before telling you what you needed to hear. "That sounds like love... And I'm sorry- I shouldn't judge- especially not an ethereal being- but them?? I really hope that works out because Two Time doesn't strike anyone here as someone who would make a particularly sane partner..."

His honesty made you chuckle, knowing exactly what he meant as you reached out to pat his head a bit. You knew what you were getting into but being confident that you would just return to your ethereal form after dying for the last time(if you even can), you knew you weren't in much danger if at all.

"Rest assured, dear friend. My mental state is far beyond what it may appear. I will speak to them soon and you must not worry." Your words seemed to ease Elliot's worry but your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden hug from behind.

Sometimes you forget you've allowed Two Time unprompted physical affection...

"[Reader], you were watching, right? Did I do good?" You couldn't help but chuckle at their words, not noticing Elliot silently going off to give you two space.

But the warmth in your chest only grew as you began to calmly praise them for their strategy and bravery. It didn't really matter in this realm but you were a gentle-mannered deity and always believed that praise was a good way to motivate one's followers. It worked great so far so why not?

You were a Spawn deity anyhow so if anything, their devotion to the Spawn growing would further appease the Spawn and perhaps you could ask to take them as your vessel or something. The thought was almost too good to think about.

"You're simply adorable, you know that?" The words slipped out before you could even think but you weren't one to feel shame about it. Though you could see their pale cheeks warming just a little.

Soon after, you were sitting with them in their cabin, telling them stories of the moon and Spawn while making little flowercrowns with them. You were never sure why you enjoyed this activity but it was peaceful. And Two Time was more than happy to listen to your tales.

Until you grew silent...

"[Reader], what's wrong? Did I do something?" Their voice rang with worry but you simply waved it off, trying to cover your face slightly with one of your wings.

"No no, it was simply your smile..." You softly explained, looking at the ground to avoid staring. "I may have been a little distracted because it was quite adorable."

You only glanced back to see them get flustered and quietly get back to making more flowercrowns. It was amusing how they reacted to such simple words.

You couldn't help yourself. With a gentle motion, you tilted their face back up and gave them a kiss on the forehead. You would've broken the poor cultist if they got any more flustered.

"Two Time, my dear, what would you say if I offered you a place beside me once I am back to my ethereal being? With you spreading the word of Spawn and me being able to stay with you and make sure no harm ever comes your way?" You offered, watching their eyes sparkle at your proposal.

But they couldn't get out much besides a panicked stutter as they rapidly nodded in agreement. How cute!

"So be it... My moonlight~" You lightly teased them, watching them practically melt into your touch as you practically just gave out a title only those dearest to you should be called.

And as you wrapped your wings around them in a loving embrace...

Everything was perfect...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[holorform2009]

How would the killers react if child y/n turned into a baby

Mafiaso + his henchmen

He'd be surprised to see child [Name] turn into a baby even his men were shocked too. He didn't remember you being a pill baby but they remember you being a child. Who the hell turn our little sibling into baby?! —Contractee

For sure him and his man don't know how to take care a baby they only know how to care of you when you were not an infant.

All them are completely inexperienced of taking care of baby [Name], what did you expect? Their a mafia and it's understandable why.

Hundred percent sure they voted for Contractee in charge of changing your diaper.

Imagine taking pictures that has like five man in it with a baby in a middle wearing a sunglasses and top hat with a drawing of mustache in your face.

Also in that picture Mafiaso is the one holding you.

John Doe

Separate this man from the baby please, or else he might kill them 🫸🫷😭🥀

But pushing that aside! He'd be confused why you turn back to zero, he remembers you as a child and not this...

Sometimes his head would begin to hurt when seeing you as a baby then a memory will start to enter his corrupted mind.

A burning memory about a woman with a pink hair, her face was blurred. "You know John... I always think of starting a family with you.." her voice was gentle making him wonder who she is.

And that memory ended there, he didn't even noticed he has you in his arm cradling slowly as your eyes was closed like you were comfortable with him. Consigliere tried to take you away from his grasp saying that he is making you uncomfortable (you're not) but John only glared at him with a threatening growl as his claw gently tighten around your pill form, shielding you from Consigliere.

John was surprised why he acted this way, he never knew why but... He just holds you in his arm, cradling your smaller figure gently... Was it because of that woman that made him act this way?

1x1x1x1

They don't give a shit

They don't want to hear your cries it's annoying. Not a fan of baby.

They're created by manifestation of hatred what did you expect from them? 😭

Don't let them near the infant please they might stab you with Venomshank to shut you up 💔🥀

CoolKid

He wondered why his playmate turned into a baby, he asked Mafiaso why you turned back to zero.

That's probably how Mafiaso is the second killer to know you turned into a pill baby.

He and his man have to seperate CoolKid from you because he tried to play with you, knowing that red child he have to look out for CoolKid too in case he accidentally killed you if they turn their back.

PrettyPrincess

She heard the news from Coolkid and immediately went to your room to check for herself to see if he was joking. He wasn't.

She's going full on big sister mode and will try to put some light make up on your chubby face, Caporegime have to intervene because you were sneezing non stop from the amount of powder she applied to your face.

Bluudude

Also heard it from PrettyPrincess.

This little shit is the type of kid to scare you. Like that one typical big brother energy.

Like he does the 'BOO!' thing by closing his face before opening and showing his creepy smile. Bluudude go brush your teeth it's black

The second killer to be banned from entering your room because he made you cry. The first killer to be banned was Noli.

Noli

His not surprised and to my own opinion, he may or may not teach you with brain rotting words or tries to make you say skibidi as your first word and Mafiaso have to stop him from teaching you that.

He's the king of memes so expect to be confused when he is hovering over your little form in the crib (The spectre gave them a crib because it's feeling generous today) and starts spewing random words that made you tilt your head at him and started to giggle at noli.

Mafiaso banned him from entering your room.

Jason

No reaction from this guy but I can tell he's not going to kill you because of his mother told him to keep you safe, probably her mother instinct and Jason understands that.

Mafiaso can trust this guy to babysit you, like full on trust.

Azure

His not surprised as well because he doesn't know you that much.

But he observed how Mafiaso and his men taking care of you, at first he thought Mafiaso had a child but turns out you are not his child.

He may try to approach your crib that you're currently sleeping right now but stops himself, he is aware of his appearance and he doesn't want you to start crying in fear.

So he left the room quietly.

Guest 666

He doesn't know you.

Also, keep him away from attempting to eat infant [Name] please.

Mafiaso had a heart attack, even his henchmen.

[bifairywife]

hehe i’ll post you tomorrow ;3

Nevermore OC

Octavia Wintergreen

"I just don't like to accept any food or drink from others. I don't know why. I swear: it's nothing personal. I've just been that way the moment I came here. There's this nagging feeling on the back of my head every time someone hands me something. Don't you dare take it, just don't. Don't do it."

character has been customized using gothic heroine on doll divine - game was made by @elequinoa

more details on octavia || meet marie palmer