#Now onto Cesar! >:3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

becauseplot · 1 month ago

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So. Today's Inktordem. Did I absolutely bite off more than I could chew? Yes. Did it turn out? Kind of! But it's written and NOT past midnight so I'll take it. Also, reminder I swapped days 3 and 5. This will definitely not be the last time I shuffle things around :]

Spoilers for OPD lore! (Not sure about which episode in particular you need to have watched...? I think up through episode 5 is enough but proceed with caution anyway.) Additional TWs for implied/referenced child abuse and implied/referenced critical illness. Let me know if I missed anything! <3

DAY 5 (3) – ORFANATO

1999

Cesar pants as he races up the hill. Running through bushes, stumbling past rocks, dodging trees. Eventually, the slope gets steep enough that the trees fall away, afternoon sun hitting the back of his neck, and Cesar has drop down onto his hands to grab old roots sticking out of the earth for help.

Dirt kicks down. A little ways up, climbing much faster, Bruno has paused to look back at him. He grins. “C’mon!” And he keeps on climbing.

Cesar adjusts his backpack and gives chase. He doesn’t manage to catch up to Bruno, but Bruno is still grinning when he leans over the crest of the hill and offers Cesar a hand up. He scrambles up the last of the incline and stands, spinning around in slow circles.

“Woahhhhhh,” Cesar whispers, taking it all in. “Bruno, this is awesome! You can see everything!”

And you can. There’s the street below, winding around the side of the hill, and Bruno’s bus stop further along it. Down the slope are the houses, the shops, their school at the edge of it; cars weaving between it all like little beetles in the grass, people walking the streets like ants; and far away, towards the setting sun, the forest at the other end of town that sweeps over the distant hills.

“Pretty cool, right?” Bruno says.

“Really cool! How did you find this?”

“I dunno, I just kinda found it. I started looking around in the bushes behind the bus stop, and then I found that trail, and then I kept climbing and—” He throws his arms out, gesturing to the horizons— “I was here! Oh, and…”

He turns and squints against the afternoon sun, shielding his eyes. Suddenly, he points. “There. That’s where I live.”

Cesar comes over and peers over his shoulder, where Bruno is pointing. He shields his eyes with a hand. “…The woods?”

“Yeah. Well, the orphanage is in the woods, obviously. You just can’t see it from here because all the trees are in the way. But it should be riiiight there.” He pauses. He turns a bit. “Or actually, there. Or there. Or—“

He whacks Cesar in the face with his arm. Cesar stumbles back. “Ow!”

“Hey!”

“What the heck!”

“You were in my way!”

They devolve into giggles, Cesar cradling his aching nose, beaming. He happens to look at the bottom of the hill, and he gasps. “Bruno! Your bus!”

Bruno’s eyes go wide. He trots to the edge of the hill, where Cesar is looking. “…Oh.”

“We can run!” Cesar says. He sits down at the edge of the hill to start sliding down the slope. “We can be quick, we can catch it.”

“I don’t think so.”

Cesar looks back. Bruno doesn’t seem happy. “Won’t you get in trouble, or…?”

“Uh…” Bruno tugs at the hems of his hoodie. “It’s probably fine. The Sisters don’t care that much, I’ve been home late before.” Bruno shrugs and gives a small smile. “I like being here more anyway. The rooms get really noisy.”

Bruno comes and plops himself down beside Cesar, shoulders bumping. Though the sun is bright without the shade of the trees, the wind is a hair cooler up here, a breath of relief in the cloying heat of the approaching summer.

“Anyway!” Bruno says. “You know my secret spot now! And no body else does. That means we can come up here and hang out, just the two of us, whenever we want.”

Cesar’s eyes go wide. His chest feels light. “Whenever we want?”

~*~

2002

“So that’s…that’s negative eight, right?”

“No. When you subtract a negative, it becomes positive, remember?”

“Rrrright.” Bruno flips his pencil around and erases his work. The eraser smudges dark across the page, staining it. “Awh, no.”

“Hold on.” Cesar puts his history worksheet down where he’s laid his hoodie out on the grass and plops his pocket calculator on it so it won’t blow away in the breeze. He rummages through his backpack and eventually finds a spare pencil sitting at the bottom of his bag. “Try this one. I don’t think the eraser is dried out.”

“Thanks.” Bruno reaches up from where he’s laid out on his stomach in the grass and takes the pencil. He erases more of the page, cleaner this time. “So that means it’s negative four.”

“Yep.”

“And I have to…divide. To get X by itself.”

“Yep.”

“So uh, negative twelve divided by negative four…” Bruno starts scribbling. “…is negative three.”

Cesar tilts his head to either side, smiling a little. “Ehhh…”

“What do you—OH. Right. Right. Negative divided by negative is positive.” Bruno flops onto his front, face planting into his worksheet. “Why is this so confusing,” he mumbles into the algebra.

“I think you got it, dude.”

Bruno lets out a long groan. Cesar pats his head. Bruno whines and bats Cesar’s hand away like a particularly despondent cat. Cesar giggles.

Bruno lifts his head out of his paper with a deep breath. “Okay.” He picks up his pencil. “Negative twelve divided by negative four is positive three. Which is…” He draws a box around the answer. “…equal to X. And that one’s done.”

“Yeah! See, I think you’re getting it now.”

“Maybe.” Bruno sighs. “Thanks for helping me. I—I really don’t get this stuff, I don’t know why.”

“Of course, it’s all good.” Cesar thinks. “Though… What about the older kids at the orphanage? They must’ve taken this math before.”

Bruno looks away, picking at the grass with a scowl. “None of the older kids ever want to help me. They just call me stupid.”

Cesar frowns, a sudden anger sweeping through him. “What the fuck, that’s not fair!”

Bruno gasps. “Cesar!”

“What? It’s not! You’re smart! I mean, you get all this history stuff a lot better than I do. And you’re really good at chess! And came up with a reason for why we were late so freaking Mrs. Leite didn’t give us another detention.”

Bruno winces. “I mean, I told her you had to help me wash bird poop off the front of my shirt in front of the whole class. And now everyone’s being mean and weird about it.”

“Better than another detention.” And better than the truth, which was that he was panicking and crying behind the boy’s bathroom for the whole of recess just because the cafeteria was a little too crowded today and Bruno was there trying to help him calm down. Forget what Bruno thinks, Cesar feels stupid. “I’m so sick of doing garbage pick-up on the yard.”

Bruno picks up his pencil and spins it around. “Me too…”

Cesar swallows at that. His face gets a little hot. “You don’t have to stay when I get all…you know, panicky. Especially if it’s gonna make you late. I’m fine by myself.”

Bruno stops spinning his pencil. “But then I’d leave you alone?”

“Yeah?”

“Doesn’t that usually make it worse?”

Yes. “I’ll be fine, I mean, it always stops eventually.”

“Or I could stay, and it gets better sooner.” Bruno shrugs. “I don’t really care.”

Cesar hesitates. “But don’t you get in trouble with the Sisters? Or the Father?”

Bruno huffs, dropping his chin into his hands. “Everyone’s always in trouble for some reason. At least I’m not one of the ones getting into fights.” Bruno’s mouth screws up, eyes firmly not meeting Cesar’s. He looks out at the hills below, towards the forest. “Yeah…”

Bruno doesn’t talk an awful lot about what the Sisters and the Father do when they get in trouble, but he’s noticed Bruno sometimes comes to school wincing the day after they’re sent home with a detention slip. Cesar is scared to know what getting into fights would lead to.

When Cesar comes home with a detention slip, his mom just gets worried. She knows why he has it.

“Uh,” says Cesar, voice small. “Sorry. I shouldn’t mention it.”

Bruno just shrugs again.

Cesar’s foot bounces where his ankles are crossed. Then, he uncrosses his legs and slides down onto his front like Bruno, chin rested in his hands. Cesar stares at him. And stares at him. And stares at him.

Bruno, eventually, gets his eyes off that forest and looks at him. Another beat of intense staring, and Bruno makes a confused face. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m just looking.”

They stare at each other, contest.

Cesar blows air in Bruno’s eyes.

“Hey!” Bruno laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking about the homework,” Cesar replies. “Do you wanna keep going?”

“Ehh…” Bruno scratches the back of his neck. “Only if you want to keep helping me. Don’t you have to go home soon?”

“Mom only really cares that I’m back home before it’s dark.” And it’s true. She doesn’t mind when she knows he’s hanging out with Bruno. Cesar takes Bruno’s worksheet and spins it around so he can read it. “So which one are you on now?”

~*~

2005

“…But she kept going on and on about going to the neighbor’s party, so then I just yelled at her to leave me alone and walked out. Went up to my room.”

“I uh, I take it she didn’t like that?”

“Ha, no.”

Bruno huffs a dry laugh from where he sits in the grass beside him. “Jeez. So then what happened?”

“Nothing. I didn’t come down, she didn’t come up. I went to bed and by the time I came down this morning she already left for work.”

“No, dude…”

“Yeah.” Cesar sighs. He keeps his eyes on the clustered city lights, burning bright against the black outline of the forest. “So I guess that’s why I wanted to stay out here tonight. I didn’t want to be sitting at home just…waiting for her to get back, you know?”

Bruno hums.

There’s a silence that follows. The crickets fill it. In the darkness of night, with his closest friend sitting beside him, Cesar finally finds the words.

“I just—I don’t like fighting with my mom. You know that. I feel awful afterwards. And then I start missing my dad, and then I feel even worse. I know—I know she’s just worried that I don’t have a lot of friends because it’s just her and I, you know? A-And I know she’s more stressed than usual because I overheard her talking to Mrs. Couto on the phone yesterday about how they’re doing layoffs at work—“

“Cesar…”

“—and she’s—well she’s newer than a lot of the staff there so there’s a good chance she’ll get cut first like last time…”

Cesar scrubs his hands up and down his face. “Ugh! It’s just shit right now, dude. I hate it.”

Bruno bumps his shoulder lightly. Almost as if on accident. “I’m sorry.”

Cesar sighs. “It’s fine. Thanks. I’m—I don’t know. It’s fine.”

“Is she… Going to be worried about you being out this late?”

“I’ve been out later. She’d guess I’m with you anyhow, so.” Cesar shrugs. “She won’t be worried.”

“…Right,” Bruno drawls after a moment. Cesar looks at him, confused by his tone. Bruno is grinning. “Because we’re so good at keeping out of trouble.”

Cesar gestures sharply at him. “She doesn’t need to know about the bike incident. She doesn’t. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”

“Like how you suck at running?”

“Dude.”

Bruno chuckles, hiding his smile behind his hand.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Cesar says, even as a smile pulls at his lips. “She can’t know, because if she does, then she’ll tell Mr. Campos and then we'll be so fucked.”

“Relax, relax, I won’t say anything, I promise. We said to the grave, right?”

“To the grave, Bruno. Or Mr. Campos will actually murder us.”

Cesar stretches his arms out in front of him. He notices that moisture in the night air isn’t quite as dense as usual. With the breeze up here, it’s refreshing. “You know, if I ever, like, smooth things over with my mom, you should come over for lunch again sometime.”

Bruno chuckles. It gives Cesar pause; it’s a sadder sound this time. “I don’t think the Sisters will be letting me out much after this.”

Cesar grimaces. Ah yeah, the Sisters’ curfew. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll just have to play extra good for a while, you know?”

No, Cesar…really doesn’t. Cesar leans back on his hands and looks to Bruno. He can’t quite say the question, but…

Bruno gets the idea. He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s…better here than it is back there. The Sisters and the Father have been really weird recently, more strict about random things. Kish says they’re trying to ‘keep appearances’ for Mister Fritz.” Bruno sighs. “Everyone’s more on edge than usual.” He looks down, picking at the grass. “And I’m…”

“…You’re what?” Cesar asks.

Bruno stares at out at the city for a moment. He stares out at the forest beyond it. He hugs his arms around his knees. “…Nothing. It’s nothing. Things are a lot right now, is all.”

Cesar suddenly isn’t sure what to say anymore. He bumps Bruno’s shoulder with his own. Something is just slightly left of everything else. Cesar can hear the wind through the trees.

“I like it up here, though,” murmurs Bruno.

“…I do too.”

Cesar tilts his head back and stares up at the stars in the sky. They can’t see many, not with the glare from the city down below, but a few break through the void, little pinpricks of light.

He looks at Bruno. “Bruno?”

Bruno looks back at him. “Yeah?”

Cesar swallows. “…Do you ever feel like you just—don’t know what to do?”

~*~

2007

First he had to make up that quiz, then Mr. Medina wanted him to run those packets down to the main office, then Marcos stopped him in the hall about fucking math club again—it’s always everything at once, isn’t it? Cesar is huffing by the time he starts to climb the slope, passing his hands over the roots as he darts up.

“Bruno!” he calls ahead. “Sorry I’m late, I swear I…”

But the hilltop is empty. Just the grass and the late afternoon sun. Cesar stands at the edge of the slope heaving for breath, backpack falling off his shoulders, and stares at a little sheet of paper tacked to earth with the sharp end of a bent paperclip. Cesar stoops over and picks it up.

Sorry I missed you. I had to head back to the orphanage. I know you said you wanted to hang out, but you know how it is with curfew. (A short, scribbled-out phrase. “I can’t something.”) Maybe some other time.

—Bruno

It’s the most words Bruno has “spoken” to him in the last several weeks.

Cesar stares at the paper in his hands. He crumples it and throws it at the ground. Then he picks it up and un-crumples it and sits his ass down at the edge of the slope and does not cry about it. And then he goes home.

(Maybe some other time?)

~*~

2009

Cesar climbs the slope, beads of sweat on the back of his neck. It’s easier if you run up the side, let the momentum carry you part of the way, but…he doesn’t feel it today. Everything inside him is shaking, his breath thin.

And yet he climbs, and he sits down in the dewy grass, not giving a damn that it soaks through his pants. And he pulls his legs up to his chest and plants his face on his knees and wraps his arms around his head and tries to breathe.

The doctor’s appointment went awful. The disease has only progressed. His mom will only get sicker as time goes on. They’re looking at treatment options, what could make her healthier before it can get worse, and what could be more effective in the long run; they’re not the same thing.

It’s just the two of them.

It wasn’t always this way.

He wasn’t always this way.

Cesar takes a deep breath and lifts his head. There’s the street below, winding around the side of the hill, and the bus stop further along it. Down the slope are the houses, the shops, his old primary school at the edge of it; the traffic congesting the arteries of the city; and far away, towards the setting sun, the forest at the other end of town.

Cesar tilts his head to the side. There’s smoke coming from somewhere in the forest, staining the afternoon sky an ugly brownish-grey. Probably some dumbass kids and a campfire gone wrong. Cesar lies down on his back, folds his arms over his eyes, and waits for something to feel better.

#curlyinktordem #my fics #cesar cohen #ordem paranormal #opd #once again--first draft levels of polish. this has barely been proofread tbh lmao.#and i can go to bed at a decent hour tonight. win.#DEFINITELY doing something shorter tomorrow my god fhdjks

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voraciousvore · 7 months ago

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Giganterra (Chapter 12)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (11) | Next (13)

Content Warning: NSFW/ 18+!! Giantess sex scene involving 3 tiny men, 1 willing and 2 unwilling

Word Count: 2.3k

------ Chapter 12: Three Men, One Giantess ------

Bianca skipped with joy to her private quarters as she held the three squirming men in her hands. She peeked down at them, giggling to herself. She had waited for this moment for so long, that she could scarcely contain her wild excitement. She was burning with lascivious anticipation.

She wasn’t the only one either. Cesar was already hard as a rock, rubbing himself against the inner well of her huge, elegant fingers. He had fantasized about this moment for years, and the fact that his desires were finally coming to fruition drove him wild. He didn’t know what she had planned, but he would be willing to do just about anything for the sexy giant woman. He watched her enormous boobs bounce as she moved and nearly creamed right in her hand. He wanted to dive in and bury himself in her cleavage. He wanted to explore every inch of her vast body, hike through the soft mountain ranges and valleys, and spelunk in her caves.

Bianca entered her boudoir to find one of her father’s manservants setting up the human habitat. “Get out!” she yelled. The servant jumped at her exclamation and darted past her into the hall. “Leave me alone!” she shouted again, to her own maid, before slamming the door and pressing her back to it. She looked down at the men in her hands with wolfish delight, grinning eagerly. Gio and Graham fidgeted with discomfort, while Cesar gazed back with starry eyes.

The giantess stepped away from the door and tossed the men on her bed, leaping up behind them. They cried out as they flew through the air, only to land on soft satin sheets. Bianca usually had a maid undress her, but she was too impatient and horny to wait, and she wanted privacy, so she strained to take off her burdensome clothes on her own. Her tiny victims attempted to run away as she pulled off her shoes and stockings, but she easily plucked them up and threw them back into the mound of pillows. She chuckled as they scurried and tripped over the folds in the sheets in futility. They were energetic little creatures; she couldn’t wait to feel them wriggling around inside her.

“Enough of that, now,” she chided as she wormed her way out of her restrictive dress. “There’s no getting away from me.” Her curvy thighs popped through the constrictive fabric and the dress collapsed around her ankles. Cesar’s eyes bugged out of his skull at the glorious display of milky feminine flesh, as immaculate and massive as a perfect goddess. She turned away with a refined motion to retrieve a vial of glowing blue potion from her vanity, giving Cesar an admirable view of her luscious bottom, as juicy as a peach and big enough to easily crush him. He immediately began stripping off his own clothes, unable to wait any longer.

She climbed up on the bed and loomed over the miniature men, her glossy hair cascading down her shoulders like black waterfalls. She uncorked the vial and dripped a single drop onto each man’s head, gripping her unwilling prey around their heads and chests with her finger and thumb when they tried to resist.

“Oh God, that’s an anti-digestion serum! She’s going to eat us!” Gio exclaimed in horror. Bianca giggled, trailing a manicured nail over her plump lip.

“Not quite,” she said in a silky tone, lowering herself down and engulfing the men in her great shadow as she planted her palms on either side of them. The mattress creaked under her tremendous weight. “I just want to make sure I don’t smother you.” Gio and Graham paled, but Cesar heated up even more.

“Take me, please, babygirl, I’m all yours!” he cried out, throwing up his hands and twirling in his flashy, theatrical way. Bianca bit her lip with a seductive smile, but instead of accepting his offer she grabbed up Graham instead. She wanted to tease him.

“What? Why? Use that idiot, not me!” Graham squealed. The giantess tore off his clothes with her enormous, strong fingers and nails, stripping him to his bare skin in an instant. She slapped him against her bulging breasts, muffling his screams as she slid him down her long, tall belly teasingly, over her toned abdomen to her playground of pleasure. She was already sopping wet with carnal desire, and he slipped right in with a shrill shriek as she shoved him into her hungry vagina with her fingers. His desperate thrashing in her inner chamber as he struggled to escape stimulated her, making her moan with erotic indulgence. He managed to get his arm and head out briefly, wriggling wildly, before she pushed him back inside.

Gio dashed across the bed while she was distracted, but she snagged him before he could reach the edge. “Come back here, you little cutie,” she laughed. She brushed him up along the length of her inner thigh, which was moist from her excretions on the upper portion as he approached her drooling pussy.

“Please don’t,” he begged. “No, no, no, this isn’t right!” Bianca ignored him, coating him in her juices as she rubbed him against her clit and moaned in ecstasy. Cesar crawled forward to be in between her legs and observed the spectacle with rapture. He was showered with flecks of fluid, as potent as an aphrodisiac for him, as the giantess princess towered over him like a colossus. Gio begged to be let go as she masturbated with his whole body like a sex toy, thrusting him in and out several times before stuffing him inside as high up as her fingers could reach. She panted, cheeks flushed and body quivering, as eight tiny limbs violently massaged her vaginal walls.

She grabbed Cesar next in the throes of pleasure, clearly not caring whether he was a willing participant or not, and began to rub him all over her gigantic breasts. He stroked her sensual flesh with his hands, his own skin and nerves alight with divine enchantment. He kissed and hugged nipples as big around as basketballs, which turned out to be sensitive erogenous zones for the horny giantess. Her moans became deeper and longer. She was clearly enjoying herself, and Cesar was in sublime heaven.

She slid him sensually down her belly, allowing him to enjoy her soft, supple skin underlaid with slim muscle. Cesar appreciated every fine detail of her gigantic form, every ridge and bend. She lowered him to her garden of earthly delight, her rose petals glistening with dew. Cesar massaged her clit with his hands, making her quiver under his experienced touch. She rubbed him against her sopping genitals, almost smothering him when she smashed him with her huge muscular thighs as she clenched them together out of reflex. Cesar couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer and blew his load with triumph as the head of his dick rubbed against her labia.

Bianca hadn’t reached climax yet, however, and Cesar was determined to get her there. He stretched out his arm, sliding down the slippery pink surface coated with his own seed and her fluids, and plunged it as far up her vagina as he could reach. He swished it around to stimulate her, reveling in the sensation of her hot, wet, slick walls that were alive with pulsing movement. To his shock, another hand grabbed his own and pulled him in further, up to his shoulder. The giantess was more than happy to help, stuffing the rest of his nude body up inside with her fingers.

Cesar found himself blinded with a waterfall of salty, viscous liquid and squished on all sides by powerful muscular contractions. He flailed a bit out of instinct, causing the hot fleshy chamber to compress around him with startling force. He could feel her heartbeat in the walls, rushing over his skin and in his ears. The giantess’s exclamations of sexual gratification thrummed through her body and his in low, rich tones, rising in intensity.

She had three men struggling inside her now, and she was past the point of no return, rapidly approaching the peak. All those little limbs stroking her insides drove her wild. They were superior to any fingering a giant could do, or any giant dick for that matter. She gasped and flopped on her back on the bed, writhing and vocalizing her fulfillment, until all her rational thought was eclipsed with a cascade of physical rapture.

She made it to the pinnacle. She let out a loud groan as her vaginal canal crushed around the tiny men. Cesar heard the distinct crack of a bone breaking above his head; Gio shrieked in agonizing pain. In a gush of juices, Bianca squirted them all out like a firehose, and they collapsed in a soggy heap on the bedsheets between her jiggling thighs. They lay there, limp, sore, bruised, and overcome by the whole experience. Gio clutched his forearm, sobbing. His lower arm was bent at an unnatural angle.

Bianca sighed with contentment and stared up at the ceiling with her eyes shining. She adored her new toys. She had been sexually repressed for so long, and it was lovely to finally have release. As the daughter of the overprotective king, nobody dared to accept her advances, regardless of how aggressively she pursued. She hadn’t experienced coitus in a long time. Her last lover, a dashing giant servant that she met in the castle, had disappeared under suspicious circumstances once her father had learned of their clandestine relationship. She pushed the distasteful thought out of her mind as a dribble of melancholy infected her good mood. She didn’t want to be reminded of the past.

She sat up and scooped the pile of naked men, saturated with her cum, into her hands. Gio yelped when she moved him. She noticed the irregular bend of his arm and a shadow of concern shrouded her expression. “Are you hurt?” she asked, tilting her head down to get a closer look.

Gio winced. “My arm... fuck, I think it’s broken...” he whined. She reached a finger toward him for further examination and he flinched, ducking down into the hollow of her giant palm. “Don’t touch me!”

Bianca frowned, but didn’t push the issue. She wasn’t sure what to do about it: She could call a doctor for him, but she didn’t really want to go through the hassle, and have to awkwardly explain to the doctor the details of how she injured her new pet. She figured he’d probably be fine. She set the small men down in their human habitat, which resembled a fancy dollhouse but with transparent walls for observation. The furniture was elaborately and painstakingly hand-crafted by a giant carpenter skilled in making doll furniture, yet still fully functional for human use.

“Get yourselves cleaned up. There’s water in the tank,” she informed them impassively, before shutting the lid and striding off to get dressed and cleaned off herself.

They stared after her in disbelief. “Hey, wait a second! Aren’t you going to get him medical treatment?” Cesar yelled after her. He banged on the glass with his fist to get her attention, with no result except a goopy splotch on the window. As he came down from his high, his mind momentarily cleared of horny thoughts, he was disappointed to find that the sexy giantess didn’t seem to care about their wellbeing at all. “Come back here!”

“Forget it. She won’t be of any help to us,” Graham grumbled bitterly. “Let me take a look. In my past life, I was a doctor.” He squinted hard to see through the fog of his blurry vision. “Dang it, if only I hadn’t lost my glasses...” He tried to feel Gio’s arm without causing him pain, but the thick mess of milky ooze made his fingers slide uselessly over his skin.

“We need to clean him up,” Cesar declared. They drew up some water and heated it for a bath. All three of them washed off the filth with relief. Graham examined Gio’s arm and determined he had a fractured radius. They sacrificed one of the chairs, snapping off a wooden leg and ripping a sheet to produce a makeshift splint. Gio stared down at his arm through a mist of tears.

“This is the worst day of my life,” he bemoaned. “First King Charles betrays me, and now we’ve all been reduced to nothing more than sex toys...”

“I almost feel like I’d rather go back to prison,” Graham lamented. He strained to look over his surroundings, despite his deplorable vision. He was certain he still had his glasses on right before he’d been shoved into the princess’s pussy, so his glasses were probably stuck up inside her somewhere. He’d never get them back in one piece. He was tired of being a prisoner, with his fate out of his control, and now forced to be a giantess’s sex slave on top of that. The outlook was grim.

Cesar was conflicted as he witnessed the abject suffering his compatriots. As great as he felt to finally live out his lifelong sexual fantasy, and as much as he enjoyed being dominated by a smoking hot giantess, he didn’t want anyone to get hurt or mistreated in the process. He’d served under the king alongside Gio, so he knew him at least on a professional level, and he hated to see his coworker in pain. Princess Bianca’s callous response disturbed him. He held out hope that maybe it was just a misunderstanding, and she simply failed to realize how serious the injury was. Once she recognized that his arm was really broken, she’d be sure to address the issue... right?

Chapter 13

#giantess #giant women #nsft #giant breasts #gts #macro/micro #micro/macro

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angelic-writer · 4 months ago

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Hail True Body - (My) God's Not Dead

Holy shit, another one!! I'm on a roll! This time, I'm trying out Hail True Body by @mustangs-flames

The prompt is by the lovely @serickswrites who never fails to rip our hearts out. <3

This stars an AU I've been thinking of for a while now. I hope it's worthwhile.

CW: Captivity, Torture, Restraints, Forced to watch, Drowning, Attempted CPR, Escape, Referenced Character Death, Referenced injury of a child, Referenced toxic masculinity

Excerpt from John 11

The Death of Lazarus

Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. (This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.) So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”

When he heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days, and then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”

“But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”

Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in the daytime will not stumble, for they see by this world’s light. It is when a person walks at night that they stumble, for they have no light.”

After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”

His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.

So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”

Then Thomas (also known as Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

The night sky was dotted with stars. In the barren plains of Edensfield, they all joined together to make a cluster, a light show made from the heavens. From a God that Mark thought he prayed to. It would've been a pretty sight if he and Cesar were out and about, enjoying themselves, not having a care in the world. But now, as he dragged his friend's body out into the field, he wondered if the stars above were supposed to mock him, taunting him of a future he could've had with Cesar.

"Look, we made it, Ces." Mark said breathlessly as he reached the edge of Mr. Marcus' property. He clutched Cesar tightly, fearful of dropping him or leaving him behind. "We made it to freedom. Just like you said."

Mark stopped walking, the weight of everything he had endured finally hitting him. "I'm free." He whispered as he stared into Cesar's upturned face. "You deserved to be free, too." He said as the overwhelming sadness he had started to feel back at the house began to take over.

"You... deserved it, too..." Mark repeated as a lone tear dripped onto Cesar's face.

The shorter boy's eyes were half-lidded, his gaze glassy and empty. His grey lips were parted slightly, and he was so terribly, terribly still. The kind of stillness that reminded him of that event. When they went to see her...

Mark dropped to his knees as he began to sob. He hadn't been fast enough. Hadn't done enough. Hadn't acted soon enough. He sat back against the tree, Cesar's limp body cradled in his lap. His heart was racing so fast, he thought it would stop at any minute. He wouldn't mind that. If he could at least see Cesar again, he'll gladly let his heart fail.

Mr. Marcus was their old high school history teacher who was obsessed with Greek mythology. He got along really well with the students, especially Cesar, to the point where people started calling him a teacher's pet. He had told them that they were gonna do great things when they grew up. He especially had faith in Cesar pursuing a medical degree. So when a mysterious figure pulled Cesar into a dark alley, knocking him out with chloroform and hit Mark over the head with a pipe, they had no idea who it would be.

They awoke several hours later in a dark room, lit by a single candle. There were handcuffs on their wrists, preventing them from any escape. There was the smell of rotting flesh coming from somewhere in the house. Didn't Mr. Marcus have a wife that he wouldn't stop talking about? He loved her, right? So why isn't she there? Surely, they would notice two high school graduates locked up in the house and call someone, right?

The figure walked in front of the candle and they could see a familiar face, illuminated by the candle.

"Mr. Marcus?!" Mark had shouted. "W-What the hell- What are you doing here?!"

Mr. Marcus tilted his head. His face looked like it had blood all over. His eyes had heavy bags under them like he hadn't slept in so long. "Hmm... That's a good question. What am I doing here? Well, I'm here because... Well, I had a bit of a revelation."

"Revelation? W-What do you mean?"

"Oh come on! Don't try to play dumb! Y'know, the one your little friend had."

Cesar shuddered, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Wait. So... You..."

"Yep. Those voices won't stop talking, telling me that something was wrong with her, that I couldn't trust her. I... I..."

Mark started to quake. "You... killed her...?"

Cesar let out a choked sob.

"I-I had to. One of them probably killed her and was wearing her skin! I... had no choice! I had to!! Oh god, the blood... I-It's gonna be hard to clean up, but I'll take it."

"Why...?" Cesar sobbed. "Why did you kill Mrs. Marcus?! Y-You loved her! You wouldn't shut up about her every day! You gave her flowers, took her out to dinner and everything! You were so happy! So why?! Why do all of this?! We never did anything!!"

"Because... Everything was a lie. They told me all I needed to know. How God abandoned us and that this world is doomed to fail. I cannot trust anyone. Anything. So I have to protect myself from them. You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Mark?"

Of course Mark knew what he was talking about. The mimics. He had encountered one when he found Cesar bleeding out on the floor.

"In fact... The reason why I kidnapped you two... is because they told me to..."

Mark blinked. "....What...?"

"Mr. Marcus, you don't have to do this! Y-You can fight this! You have to! We can help you!"

"So you can turn me in for killing my wife? I don't think so. In fact, I don't think you're really Mark and Cesar. I think you're just wearing their skin."

"N-No, we're not! We lived through our attacks!!" Cesar screamed.

"Yeah! We have proof! You can look at Cesar! He's living proof!" Mark chimed in.

Mr. Marcus sighed. "You must think you're so smart trying to get me to let my guard down just because you have simulated scars? Well, you can't fool me. No one can. Not anymore."

And so, he left the room. For the first several hours, they were left alone in the dark, handcuffed together. Mark tried to ignore the smell of death and closed his eyes, muttering prayers to God. That did little to calm his nerves, but a warm hand snapped him out of his thoughts. Warm hands against bandaged ones. "Hey, Mark. I-It's okay. We're gonna get out of this, okay?"

Even with the trauma of killing his own mother, he still had his optimism. They escaped a mimic attack at the house before. This was no different. How confident he was... "M-Maybe we can figure out a way before he even comes back." He whispered, leaning his head on Mark's shoulder.

"I think it's going to take some time to figure our way out of this. We're handcuffed together in the dark somewhere we don't even know."

"We'll make it to freedom, you'll see."

Cesar had been so confident. He was so confident that he would escape with Mark. He was confident that they would be free before Mr. Marcus can come back. And he was confident that Mr. Marcus wouldn't hurt them that bad.

Cesar was wrong.

Mr. Marcus had returned after several hours, flicking the lights, revealing the contents of the room. Mark's mouth had gone dry when he saw the rusty bathtub in the corner of the room. Mr. Marcus silently filled the tub as Mark's heart pounded. Only one word came to mind: baptism.

"Which one of you should I start with, eh?" Their old teacher asked quietly. After a minute of silence, too long for Mark's comfort, his eyes settled on the taller boy. "How about you? If you really are a mimic, you'll come back from this, right?"

Cesar glared at Mr. Marcus. "Over my dead body."

He looked to Cesar. "Fine. Then we'll start with you. This will be your first extracurricular lesson."

And that was all it took. Mark screamed and tried to grab onto Cesar as the teacher uncuffed Cesar from him. He scrambled after Mr. Marcus as he dragged Cesar to the tub by the hair. "LET HIM GO!! LET HIM GO!!" He roared.

"None of that." Mr. Marcus snarled as he kicked Mark in the face.

He stumbled to the floor, his cheek throbbing. He sat there helplessly, trying to figure out a way out of the cuffs. If these cuffs weren't around the bastard's neck first. They were loose, but Mr. Marcus would see. He had to wait until he left them alone again.

Mr. Marcus plunged Cesar's head in and out of the tub several times, Cesar kicking and fighting each time, but he didn't stop. He shoved Cesar's head below the surface once more. The way his limbs flailed about wasn't a good sign for Mark. He had to do something fast!

'LET HIM GO, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!! I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!" His eyes were wide with rage, his lips twisted into an unnatural shape, his nails dug into his palms, breaking skin and drawing blood. He was like a wild animal.

Mr. Marcus either didn't hear him or acted like he wasn't there.

Cesar's frantic scrabbling grew weaker and weaker until he stilled.

"CESAR!!!" Mark screamed as he watched Cesar's arms fall limply to his side.

Mr. Marcus blinked, relaxing his grip on Cesar's hair. He looked confused, the crazed look he had earlier disappearing. "C... Cesar?" He lifted his head up and looked at him. He flinched and dropped him to the floor. He stumbled backwards, his body starting to violently shake before he dropped to his knees. He looked at his hands which were still covered in his wife's blood. "Wh... What... What did I just...?"

He looked to Cesar who was lying limply on the floor. "D-Did I just...?" Tears started to fall down his face, his breathing quickening before he began to hyperventilate. "O-Oh god!! Oh my god!! I-I didn't mean- Cesar, I'm sorry!! I didn't mean-!!" He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs. He finally realized what he had done, though it was far too late.

¬ You killed him, Marcus. ¬

Mark and the teacher froze. That voice...

¬ You killed your precious student. ¬

It was here. And it had seized its moment.

Dark shadows wrapped around Mr. Marcus as he looked behind him. A creature beyond human comprehension was standing before him, black hands gripping his shoulders. A mimic. It followed him. Followed them. A pair of eyes looked at Mark and said in a voice he knew very well.

¬ Don't look, Mark. ¬

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he heard his former teacher screaming into the endless night. Screaming for help which will never come. Screaming until finally, it was silent. Mark opened his eyes.

There was no one. No Mr. Marcus, no mimic - just Cesar who laid on his side, his back to Mark. Water streamed from his body, staining the wood around him. "Hold on, Ces. I'm almost there. Hold on."

He slipped the cuffs quickly and stumbled forward. "Cesar?"

Cesar didn't reply.

Mark shook his shoulder. "Come on, Ces. We don't know how long we have until that thing comes back. We have to go." He said urgently.

Cesar's body shook with the motion, but he didn't respond. "Cesar?" Mark whispered as he rolled his friend onto his bad. "OH GOD NO!!" He screamed as he stared into Cesar's lifeless eyes.

No, no, not again! NO!!

"Please, Ces, please!!" Mark said as he started compressions. "Please don't leave me. We're getting out of here. Please, c'mon!!"

His medical knowledge was fuzzy, but he knew Cesar had been studying. He wanted to go to med school, wanted to be a nurse. He had a bright future ahead of him where he had nothing. Mark, you fucking moron! You should've listened! You should've let him go! You had Josiah! You could've come to him, but no. You just had to blow up at the one person who cared about you. Why are you such a selfish asshole?!

Please God, please. Don't take him away from me.

He counted to fifteen and blew into his lungs. His lips were slack, but they were warm. Still there. Still has a chance.

"C'mon, Cesar, please... You have to live. Please!" His hands sunk down into his chest, his ribs bending inwards. I think I'm doing this right. Cesar's body shaking like a ragdoll and the clicking of his ribs made him sick. It felt like an absolute nightmare, trying to get his heart beating and breathing expired air into his dying friend. Never in his life would he imagine doing this to anyone, let alone his friend. It felt like he was playing God in that moment. Cesar's life was in his hands.

"Cesar, c'mon! C'mon, you bastard!! Breathe!" He slammed his fist into his chest before he continued. He didn't know how long he tried to revive Cesar. He didn't know how long he pounded on his chest. How long he begged Cesar to breathe. How he pleaded with the universe to bring his friend back.

He just knew that eventually, he stopped because Cesar was dead. That there was nothing he could do to save him. That the only thing he could do was save himself and get Cesar's body to safety.

"You deserved it, too." Mark repeated as he stroked Cesar's still wet hair. "Oh Ces... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything... God, please, no... Please, Cesar, please..." Mark knew he would never recover from this. Would never recover from watching Cesar drown. Would never recover from failing to revive Cesar. And he would never recover from staring into Cesar's lifeless eyes. And as Mark stared down into the face he loved above all others, he realized he deserved it.

A punishment for being selfish.

--------

On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.

“Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

“Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”

After she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there.

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

--------

Mark and Cesar were laying in a field, listening to a song from Queen. Freshly bloomed flowers swayed gently in the breeze accompanied by the birds chirping. It was a few days after they graduated and they were enjoying the summer breeze. Mark played with his cross while his brain absorbed the lyrics.

"Hey Mark." Cesar had suddenly said.

"Yeah?"

"I've been wondering... What is it like to die?"

Mark blinked. "Sheesh. Dark, dude."

"It's been something that has been on my mind lately. Ever since Emile died, I've been thinking... Was he suffering during his last days? Was he able to feel some sort of peace when we were there for him?" He sighed. "I dunno. And considering my mom's job, it caused me to think."

Mark looked at the sky, at the whisping clouds. What was Lola's job like at the hospital? Since she's on night shift, she had to have seen a lot of shit. Broken bones, torn open wounds, mangled bodies from accidents - She had to have a strong stomach to deal with all of that.

"I think... You never really know when you die. Though if you do good things, when you die, God will let you into heaven. It's just how I think, y'know?"

"Of course you'd say that. Well, if this God you're speaking of lets me in, then I hope I don't get kicked out for not being straight enough."

Mark chuckled. He stretched his hand up to the sky, wondering if he could take the clouds and make them into any shape he wants. Death was one thing that was a constant on his mind lately. Now that they were out of high school, he had no idea what life held for him. Would he stay with Cesar forever in this small town? Maybe live in a dingy apartment trying to start up a band? The thought of it made him smile.

Cesar was the only thing he held onto in life. His best friend, his universe, his God.

He closed his eyes as Bohemian Rhapsody came on.

That memory was all but tainted by that terrible argument. And the screams for help when Cesar unexpectedly called in the middle of the night. And the blood...

He almost lost him that night, but they fought off death. They clung onto each other like a lifeline, never wanting to let each other go. But, like all things in life, death had to come eventually. And it eventually claimed Cesar.

Mark clung onto the hand that was beginning to grow cold. The hand that was so warm before. A sign of his failure. He wanted him to wake up in that moment, to tell him how sorry he was for being selfish, for holding him back, for ruining his life, anything! If it meant hearing his voice again.

He was not a good person. Despite what Cesar, Cian and Josiah said, he was not a good person. He killed his parents, he hurt his sister, his grandparents hated him for not being man enough, he hurt Cesar. Do these things make him a good person? In a way, Cesar dying was like God or whatever punishing him for his sins, his transgressions. Because of his actions, he will never be happy with Cesar.

Never have the happy family he wanted.

He's never meant to find happiness. He will always be alone like he deserves.

Lord, if you had been there, Cesar would not have died.

He thought he felt something squeeze his hand. He looked to see he was still holding Cesar's limp hand. What was he supposed to do now? He can't live without him. He can't. There were still so many things to atone for. So many things to do before he could finally be happy. He rested his forehead onto Cesar's, still feeling the droplets of water as he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ces... I couldn't do anything to help you... Please forgive me... I'm so so-"

Something squeezed his hand again. He snapped his eyes open and looked. Really looked.

There it was again. Somehow, Cesar squeezed Mark's hand. But how? He was dead, right? Was it just a muscle spasm? He put his face to Cesar's mouth to check if there was something.

There was a faint gurgle emanating from his throat, his lips twitching in an ineffectual attempt to breathe. "Cesar!!" Pressing his ear to his chest, he could hear something. It was a heartbeat. Too faint and slow, but it was there.

Oh shit...

"H-Hold on! Let me help you!" Laying him back down, he tilted his head back, pinched his nose and breathed into his mouth once more. He had a newfound sense of purpose now. He had Cesar and he was going to keep him there, mimics be damned.

He started compressing his chest again, counting to fifteen before briefly stopping. No, this number is too low. I have to go higher. What's the highest number? Twenty? Thirty? Yeah, thirty sounds good. He began to push past what he was initially taught, not caring if he had to break a few bones. All he wanted was for Cesar to live.

Cesar's hand twitched a few times as he continued. He will bring him back. This time, he was sure he will. He will get to have pancakes again. He will get to atone for what he did for hurting Cesar that day. Everything will be okay.

The sky was beginning to grow light, the individual stars going out one by one. The death of one life and the birth of another. The old lives they knew died on October 24, 1993. But with the rising sun, they will forge a new life.

Water came out of Cesar's mouth, but he still wasn't breathing. Mark was beginning to grow exhausted. Dammit, how did they make this so tough? Once more, he continued breathing into him, hoping, praying it will be enough.

He will make sure his God will not die.

After what felt like an eternity of Mark pumping blood through his friend's body, he finally responded. Cesar started coughing up water and rolled onto his side as he gasped.

"Ces!! Cesar!! Hey, hey hey hey, you're okay. You're okay now. J-Just breathe. I got you now." Mark stroke his hair as Cesar wheezed. Even though he just got brought back, he was in lousy shape. His skin was pale, his eyes looked sunken in and he was fading in and out of consciousness. "Hold on, let me get a phone-" He began to stand up, but Cesar grabbed his arms.

"No. Please... Don't go... Please..." He whimpered, his voice so quiet, it was like a little kid. Mark held him in his arms, carding his bandaged fingers through his hair.

"I'm not leaving you. Not this time. I promise." He rocked him gently, humming a song his mother used to sing for him. Cesar buried his face in his chest, his body relaxing as he slipped into unconsciousness. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around him, hoping to keep him warm. He will stay here for a while longer, then he'll find a payphone and call an ambulance.

What would he say to them? That their history teacher kidnapped them and almost killed Cesar, then got killed my a mimic? He'll figure it out later. Right now, he needs to calm the racing of his heart.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard police sirens coming towards the house. Looking up, he could see a familiar figure coming out of the squad car along with someone else. Cian. Mark began waving his arms and cried out, "Hey!! We're here!! Help!! My friend needs an ambulance!!"

Cian followed the direction of Mark's voice, barking orders to the other officers to get the EMTs. When he reached the tree that Mark and Cesar were at, he was shocked at what he was seeing.

Mark was holding Cesar in his arms in a loving embrace, his face wet with tears as the shorter boy wheezed. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, causing the rays to shine behind him, creating a halo. A perfect recreation of a holy man holding a man who had previously died but was brought back to life.

--------

"So let me get this straight. He was dead?" Cian asked.

"Yes, he was." Mark said, picking at his fingernails.

"And he came back to life."

"Yeah. I tried CPR, but it didn't seem to be doing anything so I thought he was too far gone." His voice wavered. He didn't want to think about that event.

Cian closed his eyes and tapped his pen. Mark took a sip of coffee, a drink that the older man offered him earlier.

"Have you ever heard of Lazarus Syndrome?"

Mark blinked. "I-I guess. I know Cesar talked to me about it when we were studying."

"Mm. Lazarus Syndrome - Autoresuscitation after failed CPR. They started recording cases ten years ago, but they appear to be few and far between."

"Mmm-hmm. That's what it was."

There was silence. The more Mark thought about it, the more he slowly realized he jumped the gun back at the house. Cesar wasn't responding to the compressions so he thought he was dead when in reality, his heart delayed in beating again. It was just like Lazarus in the tomb...

And I'm Jesus Christ. Funny. You'd think it'd be the other way around.

The sound of the phone ringing broke him out of his trance. Cian picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Okay. He's doing alright?"

"Okay, that's good. Do you want me to go get him?"

"Alright, thank you."

He hung up. "That was the hospital. Cesar's stable."

Mark let out a sigh of relief.

"Do you want to go see him?"

He nodded his head a bit too enthusiastically. Cian chuckled. "Okay, okay. You kids really need some rest."

As they left the questioning room, Mark asked him. "By the way, how did you know where we were?"

"Josiah. He let us know what was going on."

--------

Mark sat beside Cesar's hospital bed, holding his hand. It was already becoming warm. He's here. He's here with him now. Nothing could take him away now. He had already been given a second chance that night and he will make sure he will treasure every second he spends with Cesar. Never take anything for granted. He will work on himself to become a better version of Mark Owens. He won't let anything ruin this moment.

Cesar slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey bud. You alright?"

He turned to Mark and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you."

"No problem. You'd probably do the same for me, right?"

"You betcha." He gripped his hand. It was just as strong as before.

A lone bird perched itself on the windowsill, looking at the two men with an inquisitive look. Soon after, Josiah came into the room and they all delved into mundane conversations. For a moment, everything was back to normal.

--------

Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”

Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.

Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

#hail true body #htb (my) god's not dead au #htb mark owens #htb cesar hernandez #htb velcroduo

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 2 years ago

Text

Alternate AU: Fateful Reunion

The BPS gets a call about an abandoned neighborhood, and decide to investigate it. However, they meet a familiar yet malevolent face, and unfortunately, he remembers them as well.

TW: blood, violence, body/face horror, suicide mentions/thoughts/implications, character death

Notes: this. Is the longest fic I’ve posted so far, being nearly 9’000 words long, so. A bit of a long read compared to the others. This is the canon ending to the au’s main storyline, so I hope it’s up to expectations. :)

-----

Sarah was the one who heard the phone ring.

It was one of the very few nights where Sarah was the last one awake, with both Cesar and, surprisingly, Seth asleep in their own rooms. Sarah was wearing a baggy band T-shirt, which she got at a thrift store, along with a pair of black shorts. She was in the middle of drawing a picture of a crow on her sketchpad when she heard the home phone ring from its hook on the wall. Sarah looked up at the phone through her long, chestnut brown hair, lowering her sketchbook before placing it and her pencil on the coffee table. She quickly approached the phone, hoping to answer it before the ringing awoke the others. She took it off of its base and held it up to her ear.

“You’ve reached the Bythorne Paranormal Society, how may I help you?”

Cesar was sprawled out on his bed, asleep in a plain white T-shirt and shorts, barely covered by his covers. His jet black hair was a complete mess, the black hair nearly covering up the grey streak in his bangs. His therapy cat Johnny, a grey English shorthair, was curled up against him, sleeping peacefully along with his owner. They rested on the twin sized bed for a while before Sarah swung open the door, flicking on the light as soon as she entered the room.

“Cesar!”

Cesar awoke, looking up with squinted eyes before shielding them from the light with his arm. He groggily sat up, staring at Sarah as he attempted to gain his bearings. “Hmm? What’s up?” Cesar mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“We have a job to do, get dressed.” Sarah stated.

Cesar stared at Sarah with confusion in his eyes, half asleep but trying to appear awake. “…This late?” Cesar asked. “What time is it…?”

“Uh…almost three?”

Cesar groaned before throwing the blanket off of him, causing Johnny to awake as well and hop off of the bed and onto the ground. “Okay, so…what’s the job?” Cesar asked as he stood up from the bed. However, when he looked back to where Sarah was, he saw that she was gone, instead walking down the hallway. Cesar stood still for a while before shrugging his shoulders. “Okay, cool.”

Sarah approached another one of the doors, which was cracked open slightly. Sarah knocked on the door lightly, waiting outside of the room with an excited smile on her face. She waited for a few moments, tempted to knock again before the door fully opened. Seth came into view, grimacing slightly from the pain in his stiff joints. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants as his pajamas, and his straight black hair was partially covering his face. His facial hair seemed especially scraggly, and his eyes were in a half-lidded, tired glare, fixed on the much shorter woman in front of him. “Everything alright?” Seth asked.

“We got a job.” Sarah said with a smile. “In Mandela, no less.”

“…You seem…excited.” Seth stated. “Thought you didn’t like going on investigations anymore.”

“It’s…it’s not about alternates.” Sarah specified. “It’s just some paranormal activity in some abandoned neighborhood. Could just be…your average ghost report.”

“…It’s 3 AM, Sarah. Mandela’s an hour away.”

“So? You’re normally awake at this time anyway,” Sarah said. “Now go get a shirt on, and we’ll get going.”

Sarah left to go get ready, leaving Seth behind as he sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes. It was silly of him to think he could actually get a good night’s sleep for once; at least Sarah seemed to be excited. He turned to his left and saw a pile of clothes on a chair in his room, grabbing a few things off of it before closing the bedroom door.

Sarah stood in front of the couch, holding onto a black backpack as she gently placed gear into it. She was already completely dressed, wearing her black BPS hoodie, dark blue jeans, and black and white sneakers. As she packed, Seth was sitting on a metal chair next to the wall, wrapping braces around his knees and back, over his grey skinny jeans and dark grey tank top. Smoke billowed out of the cigarette in his mouth as he finished wrapping up his joints and putting on fingerless gloves over his scarred hands.

“Do I have to tell you to stop smoking again?” Sarah asked.

Seth paused, glancing over at Sarah before taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “What’s wrong with it?” He asked.

“Nothing, just…don’t do it in the house.” Sarah said. “It makes it smell like shit in here.”

Seth sighed, putting out his cigarette on his thigh, ignoring it leaving a burn mark on his pants. As Seth slipped on his jacket, Cesar entered the living room, Johnny following close behind. He was wearing a white, button up shirt underneath his unzipped BPS hoodie, along with blue jeans and red high-top shoes.

“So uh…what’s the deal? Just…ghosts again?” Cesar asked, turning towards Sarah.

“I think so. It’s what it sounded like.” Sarah responded as she zipped up her backpack and swung it over her back. “Should be a pretty easy job; in and out.”

Cesar glanced at Seth, who was pulling his hair back into a messy bun.

“You have everything together, kid?” Seth asked as he met Cesar’s gaze before standing up from his seat, walking over to the coffee table before picking up a belt with a pistol holster attached to it.

“I guess so, yeah.” Cesar said, holding back the urge to yawn. “Just…wish it was…you know…not now.”

“Yeah,” Seth sighed. “But that’s how it goes.” Seth walked past Cesar, grabbing his trusty shotgun, which was leaning against the wall. He checked to see if it was loaded, and when he saw that it was, he pointed it towards the ground. “I guess we should get going. We have an hour long drive ahead of us.”

“Can I drive?” Sarah asked.

“You were pulled over for speeding last time.” Seth stated. “I’m surprised you weren’t arrested.”

Sarah chuckled slightly, a sly smile forming on her face. “At least my face isn’t plastered on wanted posters.”

Seth let out a not-so-sincere chuckle before sighing. “…Yeah. Whatever, we need to get going.” Seth led the two other members out of the door, closing it behind them after shutting the lights off. Johnny the cat sat in front of the door, meowing before resting his head on his paws, starting the wait for Cesar to get back home.

The streets were nearly completely barren and dark, with the clouds overhead concealing the moon. The headlights of the BPS’s van cut through the darkness as it rolled down the road, leaving town and heading to the neighboring county. Cesar sat in the back of the van, arms crossed as he leaned back in his seat, eyes closed as he attempted to regain some lost sleep. Sarah sat in the front seat next to Seth, who was driving in silence. Sarah also remained quiet, glancing back at Cesar every once in a while, seeing that he was already asleep. It was almost miraculous that he could sleep in an uncomfortable van when he had trouble sleeping in his own bed. Though to be fair, Sarah found Seth crashed on the floor a couple times.

“What exactly did the person want anyway?” Seth asked, breaking the silence.

“They saw some strange activity in a neighborhood that had been blocked off for around a year.” Sarah explained. “The MCPD wouldn’t talk about it, who would’ve figured, so they called us. They just wanted a checkup. They offered around…400$ for the job.”

“Hmm.” Seth stared at the road in front of him. “I’m surprised; Cesar seemed alright, with going back to Mandela, knowing…y’know…”

Sarah nodded slightly, before her eyes widened suddenly and her breath audibly hitched. “Oh…shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I didn’t tell him we were going to Mandela.”

Seth froze, sighing slightly before pulling the van over to the side of the road, stopping and turning towards Sarah with furrowed brows. “You…didn’t tell him?” Seth asked, his serious tone making Sarah’s guilt already feel worse. “You didn’t tell him about a job he was going on?”

“I forgot! I was trying to get everything together quickly, i-it just…slipped.” Sarah said, trying to keep her voice quiet.

“Sarah, you know damn well how he feels about this county.” Seth stated.

“I know, I’m…I’m sorry.”

Seth sighed, looking back at Cesar, who was still asleep. “God…damn it.” Seth stared at the ground, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. “…He can stay in the van while we get it done. We’ll…tell him when he wakes up.”

“…A bit of a rude awakening, don’t you think?” Sarah asked.

“Not like we have much of a choice now.” Seth said, shifting the vehicle back into drive before continuing down the road, passing by the wheat field that was to their right. “We’re already here.”

Sarah looked through the windshield, seeing a sign on the left side of the road, reading in faded green letters: “WELCOME TO MANDELA COUNTY.” She slumped back in her seat, crossing her arms and lightly rubbing them. She felt like complete shit. She completely forgot about Cesar’s…experiences with Mandela, and didn’t even warn him about it. He’d go into a fucking frenzy if he knew where they were going. No wonder Seth seemed slightly pissed off; it was an awful mistake to make. Sarah just hoped Cesar wouldn’t be…too upset.

When the van drove into town, it was clear that curfew had been in effect for a while, as there was no movement to be seen. No cars drove around town, and no one was walking on the sidewalks. It felt…surreal to be back in Mandela, for both Sarah and Seth. Sarah had lived in the town they were in, and seeing the vaguely familiar streets and buildings made her feel nostalgic, though unnerved. Seth may not have lived in the same town, though he too lived in Mandela when he was younger, and he didn’t especially appreciate being back. None of the BPS had especially positive memories with the county; hell, they doubted anyone did.

Seth parked the van in front of a street, its headlights beaming through the steel bars of the gate leading into the neighborhood. Brick walls stretched on for a couple blocks, seeming to be hastily put together instead of being neatly placed. Sarah stared at the gate, seeing a few of the vacant homes on the other side of it. She furrowed her brows before looking over to Seth. “I...guess we should wake up Ces.” Sarah said.

“I’ll do it.” Seth stated, taking a couple small objects out of his pocket before handing them to Sarah. “Take these lock-picks and unlock the gate. I’ll take care of Torres.”

“You sure?”

“I can handle it.”

Sarah took the lock picks out of Seth’s hands before unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door, walking out before slamming it shut. Seth sighed deeply, turning towards Cesar before removing his seatbelt and moving to the back of the van. He sat in front of Cesar, hesitantly and lightly shaking his arm. Cesar awoke eventually, groaning slightly as he regained his bearings and realized how sore his neck was from sleeping weirdly. “Are we there?” He asked.

Seth looked at his feet, breathing deeply through his nose. “Yes.”

“…What’s up?”

“…Cesar, you are free to stay in the van for this job.” Seth stated. “You don’t have to join us.”

“…Okay?” Cesar said, sitting up straight. “…Why are you telling me this?”

Seth thought for a moment, biting his lip slightly. “…You may recognize…where we’re working tonight.” He said, scratching the back of his neck.

“You’re acting weird, dude…”

“…Cesar…” Seth looked up, staring Cesar in the eye. “…We’re currently in Mandela.”

Cesar didn’t seem to respond for a second, instead staring blankly at Seth for a few moments. That was until his eyes seemed to widen and his brows furrowed up, his hands noticeably shaking. “Y-You didn’t tell me that.” Cesar stated.

“I’m aware that—”

“I want to go home,” Cesar said, his tone sounding almost desperate. “I-I want to go home now…”

“Cesar…” Seth said.

“Please, just fucking take me home,” Cesar was trembling, holding his arms close to his stomach as his shoulders appeared to tense up. “I can’t be here, I-I just…I just can’t, I can’t.”

Seth sat next to Cesar, seeing that he was beginning to hyperventilate. “Get me out of here, please, just—I can’t—I don’t want to be here,” Cesar mumbled. “He’ll find me, he’ll—”

“Cesar.” Seth stated, lightly resting a hand on Cesar’s shoulder. Cesar jerked around, looking at Seth with silent tears running down his face. Seth could see the fear in his eyes, making Seth himself feel his heart sink to his feet. He sighed before wrapping his arms around Cesar, letting him cry into his shoulder. Seth’s heart hurt hearing his muffled sobs, but he didn’t pull away. Though he was curious on whom the “He” was that Cesar mentioned, Seth decided not to ask further. Last think Cesar needed was prying questions; if anyone knew how awful it was to be questioned about your past, it was Seth.

When Sarah successfully unlocked the deadbolt, she removed the chains keeping the gate shut and pushed it open; all before jogging back to the van and hopping into the front seat. With that, they were able to pass, and the van drove past the barrier and into the barren neighborhood. The warm glow of the streetlights shone on the damp asphalt, puddles still formed from a recent rainfall. The headlights of the BPS van reflected on the dark windows on the sides of homes, illuminating the sometimes cracked glass. Graffiti was covering the outer walls of some of the homes, though the BPS couldn’t help but notice that the vandalism became rarer as they progressed.

Cesar’s leg bounced rhythmically as he sat in his seat, lightly rubbing his fingers over the faint scar across his right hand. His brown eyes stared at the ground, breathing in and out deeply as he tried to fight the urge to panic. He wouldn’t have gone if he knew where they were going; that was a fact. It didn’t help that a part of him recognized the street, though he wasn’t alone in that thought. Sarah too began to recall things about the neighborhood they were in.

It started with a vaguely familiar tree she saw on the side of the road, or one of the homes having Christmas lights on all year despite no one living there. However, it wasn’t until she saw a line of trees blocking the next house that she figured it out. “Stop the car.” Sarah placed her hand on Seth’s arm, causing him to look at her with confusion. He obliged, parking the vehicle in the middle of the road before turning to look at Sarah.

“What’s wrong?” Seth questioned.

Sarah pointed towards the pale grey house that was barely peeking out from behind the trees. “I know that house.” Sarah said, her voice strangely quiet.

Cesar, almost sensing her concern, sat up, looking at Sarah with pensiveness in his eyes. “Wh-What house?” He asked quietly.

Sarah glanced back at Cesar, then to Seth, then back to the house before abruptly opening the door and running down the road in front of the van. Seth watched her for a second before looking back to Cesar. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a second.” Seth then opened his door, following Sarah until he saw that she was stopped in the middle of the street, staring up at something. “What’s going on, are you alright?” Seth asked, lightly placing a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Oh my God.” Sarah muttered. “…This is Mark’s house.”

Seth looked at the aforementioned home, seeing the absolutely terrible state it was in. The pale grey paint on the outer panels was chipping and peeling away, though it was covered by layers of moss and other plants, making it appear to be a yellowish green. The grass on the lawn was almost completely dead, aside from one spot where a few weeds were growing. There were two windows leading to the second floor, with one of them completely shattered, leading to a dark room. Sarah’s eyes were fixed on that window specifically, as she remembered the room it led to. It was Mark’s bedroom, where he stayed in most of the time.

“Mark?” Seth asked.

“My brother?” Sarah seemed almost offended that the name didn’t ring a bell. “H-He wasn’t seen in eight years; I-I…I just…”

Seth looked back up at the house, feeling a strange pit in his stomach.

“I need to go in.” Sarah started walking towards the home before Seth grabbed the back of her hoodie.

“Wait.” Seth stated. “…get your gear first. I need to get my gun too.”

Cesar watched through the windshield as the two walked back to the van, opening the back doors to grab their things. “What’s going on?” Cesar asked.

“We found a house we’re going to—” Seth started, but was interrupted by Sarah.

“I’m going into Mark’s house.” Sarah stated. “We’re seeing if we can find out anything about his disappearance.”

“Wh-what?!” Cesar’s voice squeaked, and his eyes shown horror. “N-No, no, no you shouldn’t…you can’t…”

“I’m not letting this chance go, Cesar.” Sarah said, her voice stern. “The MCPD isn’t telling me shit about him; I’m going to investigate this myself.”

“Sarah.” Seth didn’t say it out loud, but his tone said “Stop talking,” and Sarah took the hint and became silent. Seth could see Cesar shaking, harder than he was before. He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t get anything past his tight throat. Seth looked back at Sarah before crawling into the van and carefully approaching Cesar.

“We’ll be out in no more than ten minutes, and we can go—”

“We need more than ten minutes for this.” Sarah said.

Seth glared at her for a second before turning back. “We can go home after we’re done.”

“I-I…I.” Cesar couldn’t get his words out, instead trying to hold back his tears.

Seth backed away a second, but when Cesar’s expression seemed to become more panicked by the action, Seth paused. “I’ll be back, don’t worry.” He said in a calm tone. “It won’t take long, I promise. Okay?”

Cesar nodded, and Seth exited the vehicle, closing the doors behind him. “God…damn it.” Seth said, turning back towards Sarah before they both started walking back to the house. “Why…why this job out of all of them?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“You know how fucking…sensitive Cesar is to this shit.”

“Seth, I don’t expect you to…understand this kinda stuff,” Sarah said. “But I haven’t learned anything new about Mark in nearly a decade. This is the first chance in forever I’ve had to figure out anything about his disappearance.”

“…What do you mean you don’t expect me to understand?” Seth asked, his brows furrowing as they paused in the house’s driveway.

“W-Well…you were an only child, right?” Sarah asked, though she began to wonder if bringing it up was a bad idea. Seth’s nose twitched slightly as his expression darkened.

“Sure, but I think I can understand wanting to know about a loved one’s disappearance…right?” Seth asked rhetorically. “Just ‘cause I never had a sibling like you doesn’t mean I’m heartless to shit like this.”

“Yeah, I…yeah.” Sarah sighed, avoiding eye contact.

“Whatever, let’s…get this done quickly,” Seth continued. “I don’t want Cesar here any longer than necessary.”

Sarah and Seth approached the front door, though when Seth grabbed the doorknob, he found that it was locked. “Is there another way in?” Seth asked, turning back to Sarah.

“If I remember right, there’s a back door that leads to the kitchen.”

Sarah and Seth then jogged around the home to test their luck with the alternative entrance. Luckily, the door in fact existed, though they couldn’t see inside through the window in the door, as it was covered by a thin curtain. Seth tried his luck with the door again, though it appeared to be locked as well. Sarah sighed in disappointment when she saw that it didn’t open, but was immediately startled by the sound of shattering glass. She looked back up to see that Seth had broken the glass window in the door with the butt of his shotgun.

“What the hell?!” Sarah questioned.

Seth looked back at Sarah, his expression almost like a toddler that got caught stealing snacks from the cabinet. “No one lives here anymore.” He stated.

“That doesn’t mean you can just break shit!”

Seth turned back to the shattered window before reaching through it and unlocking the door from the inside. “…Too late now.”

Cesar sat in the van, his knees pressed against his torso as he thought to himself. He had a pit in his stomach, feeling nothing more than an intense want to go home and get the fuck away from there. He hadn’t been even remotely close to Mark’s old house since nearly a decade before, and Cesar wasn’t necessarily ecstatic to break that record. Nevertheless, there he was; back in the cesspool that was Mandela County, and back in the town he swore to never return to in a million years.

Despite not wanting to move, he hated staying in the van. He was sitting in the cramped van with the extra gear and tech, half of which barely worked. He was alone with the thoughts he desperately wanted to run from, which was almost scarier than being back where he started. Cesar glanced towards the floor, his eye catching something on the ground. It was a spare pistol, resting on the ground next to a box of bullets. Cesar’s watery eyes stared at the firearm before his shaky hand grabbed onto it. If he was going to be in Mandela again, he might as well accept and face it.

The home smelled of mildew and dust, its stagnant air feeling oddly claustrophobic. Seth walked into the living room, his boots pressing down the old shaggy carpet as he looked around, his gun in hand and his guard up. Sarah’s flashlight pointed at the walls, seeing the stained and peeled wallpaper. There were the occasional framed photo on the wall, though most were completely shattered or on the ground somewhere. It felt surreal being in the home again, especially seeing that it was in such disrepair. It felt as if it had an air of sadness and despair, though Sarah wasn’t sure why. Either way, she began to understand why Cesar was so hesitant.

Seth walked towards the couch, his eye catching something resting on its dusty cushions. He leaned over and picked it up, examining it carefully. It was a worn out notebook, its yellow cover torn and dirty. He gently placed his shotgun down on the sofa before opening up the notebook, staring at its contents. It appeared to be a sketchbook, though he couldn’t help but feel his heart sink as he stared at the sketches themselves.

The first one he saw was what seemed to be a screaming figure, though it was hastily drawn, and hard to distinguish. It didn’t even appear to be human; more like a half-human, half-animal creature with long and jagged teeth. Seth turned the page, seeing an abstract humanoid figure grabbing its head, also screaming. Every single drawing Seth saw was all but scribbles, just barely conveying whatever it was supposed to convey. He glanced at Sarah, who was staring at a photo on the wall, with her light trained on it. Seth closed the notebook, grabbing his gun with his free hand before walking over to where Sarah was standing.

“What is it?” Seth asked quietly.

“It’s…a picture of Mark and Cesar.” Sarah said, continuing to stare at the photo. Seth also looked at the picture, seeing that it was of Cesar and Mark in Halloween costumes. At least it appeared to be Cesar, though his face appeared to be scratched out. “…It’s been tampered.”

“Yeah?” Seth said, holding up the notebook towards Sarah. “Take a look at this.”

Sarah looked at the notebook, grabbing it from Seth’s hand before opening it. Her face immediately showed concern and confusion as she flipped through the pages. “What the fuck…” She sighed.

“Was…Mark an artist?” Seth asked.

“Well, yeah, but…not…not like this.” Sarah looked at the ground before taking off her back pack and unzipping it, putting the notebook inside. “It just doesn’t make sense…”

Seth looked back towards the photos on the wall, seeing the broken glass and scratched out faces. Though something seemed to connect them all; every photo with Cesar involved was altered. Some with black marker covering him up, and others with an entire half of the picture ripped off. It was bizarre, and only made Seth’s strange feeling of dread become less and less easy to be ignored. However, that could’ve also been the fact that the house felt so…constricting, despite it being decently big. It almost felt like it was trying to choke him.

Cesar stood outside of the van, staring up at the house in front of him, grasping the pistol with his trembling hand. He breathed in and out deeply, preparing himself before finally stepping onto the driveway. As he looked for an entrance, or any sign of where the other two went, he felt a strange dread in his stomach. He pushed it down, trying to ignore it the best he could as he walked around the house. He also forced himself to ignore the feeling of being watched every time he glanced up at the second story window.

Sarah stood in front of the stairway, her light pointed up the steps. She glanced behind her, seeing Seth wandering around the living room, examining certain objects around the house. Sarah then looked back up the stairs, breathing in before walking up the creaky steps. As she made her way upstairs, Seth stared at the mudroom in front of the front door. There was a knocked over table in front of the door, with the shards of a smashed vase next to it. It looked like the signs of a break in, though it was unclear where the point of entry was, as the door was still locked.

Next to the table however was yet another broken picture frame, one that was bigger than the others. Seth crouched down, wincing slightly when his knees cracked before grabbing onto the frame and standing back up, turning it around to see the photo inside. It was a picture of Mark, Sarah, and Cesar all together, though once again Cesar’s face was crossed out. However, words were written on the picture as well, almost covering it entirely:

“I HATE YOU”

Reading over the message made Seth’s heart sink, and not soon after he felt something growing in his stomach. It was an immense feeling of dread; more intense than any similar feeling he had before. It felt like a metaphorical punch in the gut, making him drop the picture entirely.

His breathing quickened as his mind began to connect the dots. The crossed out photos, the eerie drawings, the message written on the photo, even the fact that the neighborhood was blocked off; it all began to make sense. Whoever, or whatever, had been in that house hated Cesar, and not only were Seth and Sarah there, but also the very man the thing living there hated. He just brought his friends, hell, his family to the belly of the beast like a fucking moron. And to make everything worse?

“Seth?”

Shit. Shit. Fuck, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.

Seth swung around, seeing that Cesar was standing in the kitchen, in front of the back door. Seth immediately jogged towards him, nearly hyperventilating. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Wha—”

“Get back to the van, NOW.” Seth commanded, not even letting Cesar question him.

“But w-what about Sarah?” Cesar asked. The question made Seth visibly freeze before he turned around, seeing that Sarah wasn’t there. How the fuck did he not notice?

Sarah stepped towards the door leading to Mark’s bedroom, noticing the stains on the wooden floor underneath her. She hesitantly reached for the doorknob, her fingers brushing against the ice cold metal, before she began to turn it—

“Sarah!”

She was interrupted by the sound of Seth yelling for her downstairs, causing her to pull her hand away from the door. She glanced at the door, thinking for a second before ultimately deciding to go back downstairs to see what was going on. As she ran down the stairs, she failed to notice the door open behind her.

“What’s going—” She couldn’t even finish her question before she felt Seth grab the back of her hoodie and push her towards the door, his other hand clasped on his shotgun.

“Get back to the van, both of you.” Seth demanded, pushing the two out of the house. As they hurried around the home, Sarah turned around, staring Seth in the eye.

“What the hell is going on?!” She asked. “You’re freaking us out—”

“Listen, we need to get out of here, I…I can feel it.” Seth stated, his voice noticeably shaking. It was the most freaked out Sarah had ever seen him.

“But I still haven’t found anything.” Sarah said.

“M-Maybe he’s right,” Cesar chimed in. “I don’t feel good about this either.”

“No, it’s not just that, it’s…” Seth attempted to get his thoughts in order. “It’s something more than that, like—”

“Seth, please, we can’t do this now,” Sarah interrupted. “I’m so fucking close, I can feel it!”

“I’m trying to keep you safe—”

“You keep saying that!” Sarah bordered on yelling, trying to hold back her tears. “I need this, Seth. I need to know, and this is the only way I can; I need to help Mark!”

“CAN WE FUCKING LEAVE?!” Cesar shouted, startling both Sarah and Seth. They stared at him, seeing that he was crying, but also looking completely pissed off. “I’m tired of this! Mark’s dead! That’s it! There’s no fucking point to being here anymore!”

“Cesar, what the fuck are you—” Sarah started.

“NO!” Cesar glared at her. “Enough arguing, enough searching, enough fucking self-pity; CAN WE JUST GO HOME?!”

Sarah and Seth were stuck in a stunned silence, staring at Cesar, who was beginning to sob to himself. Sarah felt her eyes sting, and seeing Cesar trembling made her feel even worse. She glanced at Seth, who was almost glaring at her, though he didn’t seem necessarily angry; more…concerned.

“I…Ces…” Sarah looked back at Cesar. “I’m…I’m sorry—”

The sound of four bangs coming from the front of the house interrupted her apology, causing the trio to snap their attention towards the noise. Seth glanced back at Sarah and Cesar, gesturing them to follow him as he raised his firearm. Cesar also grasped his pistol tighter as he followed close behind Seth, with Sarah by his side. When they made it back to the van, they could see the culprit of the noise; all four tires had been blown out.

Seth stared at the ruined tires, his gaze intense and his breathing beginning to quicken. Cesar stared at the tires before looking back towards the house, freezing as soon as his eyes caught something.

“Who…why would someone do this?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know…” Seth stated, trying to keep his breath steady despite the tightness in his chest.

“Should we walk then?”

“It’ll take too long to get back…hitchhiking’s too risky…” As Seth thought aloud, Sarah looked back at Cesar, seeing that he was completely motionless aside from his shaking hands. His wide, watering eyes were fixed on the house, looking up at something.

“…Cesar?” Sarah asked, lightly tapping his shoulder. No response. “Seth, Cesar’s not…” She trailed off when she finally looked at Cesar was focused on. She too became silent, covering her mouth as she couldn’t help but cry. She didn’t even want to believe what she was seeing.

It looked like Mark; but it wasn’t him.

Mark’s nearly white sweatshirt had turned a dingy grey from years of use, covered in blood and grime. There was a hole in the sweatshirt and black undershirt in his shoulder, the hole stained with red. His dull pink sweatpants covered his legs, along with grey socks, both of which having mud and dirt covering them. His messy, long brown hair swayed in the wind, his one, bloodshot eye fixed on Cesar, burning with hate. The entire right side of his face was a cracked hole, leading to a dark void, with only his lower jaw and teeth visible. Blood streamed down the holes in his face, along with his eye, almost like he was eternally crying. It looked only vaguely like the Mark they knew, while also nothing but a husk of his former self; a hollow being desperately hanging on to its past.

As soon as Seth saw Mark, he swung his shotgun up, preparing to fire before Mark snapped his gaze towards him. Seth felt himself be pushed back, slamming against the ground hard with a thud. His gun clattered against the asphalt, sliding to the middle of the street. Sarah was temporarily snapped out of her shock by the sound of Seth grunting from the sudden pain spike in his back. Sarah hastily approached Seth, crouching down quickly before helping him get up.

Seth looked straight past Sarah, his eyes widening before he scrambled to his feet. “CESAR, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” He shouted, seeing that Cesar was still standing still in front of Mark.

The plead didn’t seem to do anything; Cesar was still stuck in place, paralyzed by his own fear. Mark looked to the side, seeing a small piece of rebar resting on the ground next to a tree before he raised his hand towards it. The pole immediately started to hover in the air, Mark staring at Cesar before the post turned directly towards the frozen man, being flung towards him as quick as an arrow. Cesar was barely able to respond before he felt himself being pushed over by something.

“GO!”

Cesar fell to the ground, finally snapping out of his trance. His breathing was heavy as he stared at the dead grass below him. He could hear Sarah crying, along with pained yells behind him. Cesar turned around, his eyes widening when he saw where the noises were coming from. Seth was hunched over, grasping the piece of rebar buried in his shoulder, the blood pouring out from between his fingers. He was bleeding heavily, Sarah staring at him with horror in her eyes. Seth just saved Cesar’s fucking life.

“JUST LET HIM DIE ALREADY!” Mark shouted, his many discordant voices burying themselves in the ears of all that heard it.

Cesar stumbled to his feet, immediately backing away as he regained his bearings. He looked towards Seth before glaring at Mark, swallowing the lump in his throat before he spoke. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Cesar questioned.

“YOU…You didn’t do anything, didn’t answer any of my cries for help!” Mark yelled, blood pouring down from his “face.” “I thought you were my fucking FRIEND! YOU’RE THE REASON I’M DEAD!”

Cesar pushed back the urge to cry before responding. “I NEVER DID ANYTHING—”

“BULLSHIT!” Mark’s voice almost shook the entirety of Mandela to its core, causing the streetlights to flicker and some to even explode. “YOU NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME, DID YOU?!”

“MARK, I DID!” Cesar cried. “I FUCKING CARED ABOUT YOU! I THOUGHT OF YOU LIKE A BROTHER!”

“YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING LIAR!” Mark screamed, not only blood, but actual tears running down his cheeks. “I WAS NOTHING BUT A PROP! I MADE YOU LOOK BETTER! You wanted everyone to see…look! I can befriend even the stupid, lonely, ANGRY, LOSER OF A KID!”

Cesar felt as if the words were stabbing him directly in the heart. He had no way of telling him how much he cared; how much he valued Mark’s friendship ever since middle school. It was too late to reconcile, as the damage had already been done. Cesar just wished that he saw it sooner.

“Mark, listen to yourself!”

Cesar turned to see Sarah staring up at Mark with fury in her eyes. Seth seemed to visibly struggle more when he saw what Sarah was doing, begging with his eyes for her to back down. He tried to grab her jacket, though she was already out of reach, and every movement only made the sharp pain in his shoulder spike.

“We all cared about you!” Sarah claimed, her hands curled into fists. “I loved you! Cesar loved you! We all loved you; why won’t you just listen to us?!”

“You left me to die…you never came for me.” Mark stated. “I was left to DIE, BY EVERYONE IN THIS GOD DAMNED COUNTY! NONE OF YOU HELPED ME WHILE I WAS STUCK IN ONE FUCKING ROOM FOR DAYS! I…I DIED BECAUSE YOU WERE A BUNCH OF FUCKING COWARDS!”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT!” Sarah shouted through the tears, not noticing that Mark was staring at a rock behind her, making it rise into the air. “I LOVED YOU MARK, I JUST WISH YOU ACTUALLY ACTED LIKE HI—”

A loud crack. Seth could barely process the sound before he felt something splatter against his face, bringing his hand up to his face and wiping it off, staring at the small streaks of red on his fingers. Sarah immediately fell to the ground as a now red-stained rock fell to her side. She twitched, convulsing on the front yard in silence, blood pouring from the large gash in the back of her skull.

“S-Sarah…SARAH!” Seth cried, possibly for the first time in a very long time. He took in a few deep breaths before ripping the pole out of his shoulder, yelling in pain before throwing it to the side and covering the wound with his hand. He scrambled to Sarah’s body, turning it over onto her back. Her eyes were cloudy; unresponsive. “Sarah…” Seth sobbed as Cesar quickly fell to his knees by her side. Seth buried his face in her shoulder, grasping her rapidly cooling hand as he cried. “Oh god…Sarah…I’m sorry…”

Cesar grimaced, tears running down his face before he looked back at Mark. He killed her; his own sister was dead, murdered in cold blood. Cesar pushed himself to his feet, swinging his pistol towards Mark, finally feeling unafraid for the first time in forever. It wasn’t the friend he used to know anymore, and as he aimed for the head, Cesar pulled the trigger.

Click.

The gun wasn’t loaded.

Cesar looked back up at Mark with horror, seeing the rage building in his eye. He dropped the pistol before stumbling backwards, feeling dread building in his heart before he turned and ran. Seth watched him run, seeing his shotgun in the middle of the street.

“YOU COWARD!” Mark shouted, following Cesar from the air.

Seth looked down at Sarah’s lifeless body one last time, taking in a deep breath before reluctantly letting her go, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder as he ran onto the street, grabbing the shotgun as soon as he reached it.

Cesar refused to look back, though he could see the streetlights rapidly flickering and the light bulbs exploding behind him. He could feel his lungs burning from hyperventilating, and his legs hurt like hell, but he couldn’t stop running. Mark was screaming loud enough to make Cesar’s ears ring, his pure rage being heard throughout the entire town. If Cesar stopped moving, he was dead, and Cesar didn’t want to find out what being killed by a former best friend was like.

Cesar glanced to the side, seeing that one of the streetlights was beginning to bend to the side from the middle before falling off of its base. Cesar put his arms over his head, using one burst of energy to sprint out of the way before it slammed against the asphalt, the light shattering and the metal bending in nearly impossible ways. Mark looked over to the side of the road, seeing a rusty stop sign. He raised his hand towards it, ripping it out of the ground while also snapping the sign off of its post. He glared back at Cesar before throwing the post towards him. Cesar leapt to the side, though not soon enough.

The post grazed his leg, leaving a large gash right before his knee. Cesar yelled, falling to the ground on his stomach. He grasped the rapidly bleeding wound in his leg before turning around, laying on his back as he stared at the injury. His entire body screamed out, sore from running and his throat raw from screaming.

Cesar looked up, tears streaming down his face as he attempted to crawl backwards, staring up at Mark as he lowered himself to the ground. Mark walked towards Cesar, ignoring the sharp pain in his legs with every step as he glared at the man in front of him. “You’ve ruined…everything.” Mark stated, his voice almost sounding like the Mark Cesar once knew. “I trusted you…I cared about you, yet you leave me in the dust the second you’re able to.”

“Mark…I…I’m sorry…” Cesar mumbled. “I…I didn’t…mean to.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mark growled. “It’s over now. It’s all over.” Mark raised his hand towards Cesar, whose wide petrified eyes were fixed on Mark’s missing face. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.” Mark muttered under his breath.

“HEY, SHITHEAD!”

Mark swung around, seeing Seth standing in the middle of the street behind him, gun trained on him. Mark barely had time to react before Seth pulled the trigger, a loud boom echoing as Mark’s arm shattered, the lower half of it breaking off and slamming against the ground. Mark let out a loud, pained screech, staring at the shattered, hollow remains of his left arm and the tattered cloth around it. Seth cocked the gun before shooting once again, this time at Mark’s right leg. His shin exploded into shards as Mark fell to the ground, his skin cracking as blood poured from the holes in his body.

Mark yelled as Seth grew closer, his gun pointed at Mark’s head, silent tears running down his cheeks. Mark looked up at the tall man in front of him, his one bloodshot eye fixed on the stranger.

“…You…you’re too late.” Mark growled, whispers and quiet laughter accompanying his voice. “You brought them here. You’re the reason this happened. You…you didn’t have to be a part of this.”

Seth’s nose twitched, and his eyes widened slightly. He swallowed hard, attempting to keep his breath steady, all before his brows furrowed and he grimaced. “Fuck you.”

Seth pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He stared at the gun with surprise, trying to fix the sudden jam before he looked back at Mark, whose one eye was squinted and staring at the gun’s barrel. He then floated onto his one remaining foot before flying up into the dark sky, out of view. Seth looked up to where he went, clenching his jaw. “YOU BASTARD!” Seth shouted into the night air.

Seth turned back to Cesar, his expression turning from anger to worry as he dropped his shotgun. He rushed to Cesar’s side, grabbing his hand and helping him sit up. “You’re okay…you’re gonna be alright, can you walk?” Seth questioned.

“I…I can’t…” Cesar exhaled, staring at the large wound in his leg.

“Cesar, don’t look at it,” Seth gestured for Cesar to stare him in the eyes. “Look at me…I’m…I’m gonna get you out of here.” Seth wrapped Cesar’s arm over his shoulders, supporting him with his arm as they stood up. Cesar winced as he put some pressure on his leg, slowly limping by Seth’s side.

“Wh…What about Sarah?”

The question made Seth’s breath hitch, but nevertheless he continued walking. “You’re going to be alright, just…just trust me.” Seth didn’t want to tell Cesar Sarah would be alright, as it was a complete fucking lie. Sarah was dead, and Cesar didn’t need to be reminded of that at that moment. All Seth wanted to do was get Cesar out of that hellhole. Mourning is for later.

As they walked towards the gate, Cesar yelled out, hunching over slightly, causing Seth to turn his head towards him in worry. “Are you alright?” Seth questioned.

“I…I don’t know…” Cesar said with a grimace. “I don’t feel good…I…I feel sick.”

Blood loss, Seth presumed. “Shit…you’re gonna be fine, the hospital isn’t that far away.” Seth assured, covering up his uncertainty. “Y-You’re gonna get help, alright?”

Cesar looked up at Seth’s face. “I…I don’t know what’s—” Cesar’s statement was interrupted by him yelling again, falling to the ground as Seth watched.

“Cesar!” Seth crouched down beside him, seeing that he was staring at the ground, his face partially covered by his hair. “Cesar, what’s going on, are you alright?! I…I can carry you to the hospital if you can’t walk—”

“Mm.”

“What?”

“MMMH.”

Cesar raised his hands towards his face, beginning to shake uncontrollably as his hands began to claw at his face. Suppressed screams were heard from him as he shook and cried, though Seth couldn’t see what was happening. “Cesar, what’s going—”

Cesar looked up, tears running from his eyes as he scratched at the area near his mouth. Seth’s eyes widened as he finally saw what was wrong; Cesar’s mouth was completely missing, healed over like a scar. Thin red lines covered the new skin as Cesar scratched it raw, all in a desperate attempt to be able to speak again.

“…Oh god.” Seth muttered. Cesar held his hands up to Seth, who helped him get up on his feet. Cesar’s trembling hands were clutched on Seth’s bloody hoodie, trying to hold himself closer to him. His muffled screams for help only became worse as his hands began to shake even harder, his fingers turning a charcoal black. His fingers fell apart as he stumbled away from Seth, who was frozen in both confusion and horror. Cesar watched helplessly as the skin and bones in his hands broke apart, leaving nothing but part of his forearm bones visible as he desperately tried to shriek for help.

Cesar was sobbing, unable to let out a single anguished yell as he fell into Seth’s arms, shaking as if he was suffering from hypothermia. His nose was barely visible anymore, the nostrils being completely missing and it being nothing but a small bump on his face. His wide, bloodshot eyes stared up at Seth, as if he was pleading for him to do something, ANYTHING to save him from his fate, whether he was able to do so or not. “Cesar…” Seth cried, his mind going too fast to be able to come up with anything he could do. “Cesar, PLEASE…” Seth watched helplessly as even Cesar’s gaze was torn away from him, as his eyes shut, healing over and leaving nothing but blank eye sockets in their place.

Cesar’s screams were unable to be heard, and his entire face was missing. Seth stared at the blank, emotionless face that used to be his closest friend. He was gone; the man Seth dared to get close to was gone. Cesar fell to his knees, holding his arm nubs up to his “face” as he desperately wanted to be able to breathe and see again. There was nothing he could do however, and soon enough, he could no longer hear Seth’s desperate cries for him to stay as even his hearing was taken away from him.

Seth tried to grab Cesar’s shoulder, though as soon as he made contact, Cesar appeared to panic, letting out more horrid muffled screams, slamming his forearm against Seth’s hand to push it away. He sprung up to his feet and ran the opposite direction. He slammed against the gate, stumbling backwards before pushing it open and running down the road, disoriented and stumbling around as if he could barely hold himself up. Seth watched as Cesar disappeared from view, his eyes wide and his expression blank.

Seth took a few steps forward, pushing open the gate and looking down the road, seeing that Cesar was already gone from sight. He continued to step forward, tripping over his own feet before collapsing to his knees, with his head hung low in defeat. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Sarah was gone, and Cesar…oh god, Cesar; left wandering aimlessly, sightless, deaf, mute, and scared for god knows how long. Seth had nothing left. His son was gone…all because of him. Mark was right; he brought them to their death.

Seth stared at the ground, emotionless, feeling like a husk of his former self. His shoulder stung and every joint in his body was sore, but he no longer cared. He was empty without them; nothing more than a stupid man with a criminal record and a lifetime of regret. How dare he think he could make friends? How stupid was he? Sarah and Cesar didn’t deserve this…they didn’t deserve any of it, and the one man that did was the only one alive and human. He should’ve taken their place. He should’ve been the one to die, not them. It was all his fault.

“How…pathetic.”

No.

No, god, please not now.

Seth didn’t even need to see who was talking to recognize the voice, his fears only being confirmed by the sight of slender, fingerless gloved covered hands pressing against the ground next to him, connected to mangled, impossibly long arms.

“How poetic.” Adam stated, leaning down so Seth could see his wide smile from his peripheral vision. “Your story starts with you losing your family…and ends with the same thing.”

Seth didn’t respond or even flinch, only slowly turning away when Adam pushed his face closer. “Well…Mark sure can hold a grudge, huh?” Adam chuckled. “Cesar…doomed to a life of darkness and silence for all eternity, I mean, how petty can you get?”

Seth remained silent.

“…Come on, Seth.” Adam said. “…You don’t have to be so grumpy.”

“Leave.” Seth grumbled.

Adam smiled wider when he heard Seth’s broken tone. “…Hey…I’m your friend you know. And you know what? I have an idea that may help you out.” Adam stated. “And all it takes is one simple step.”

Adam reached for the pistol in Seth’s holster, pulling it out before holding it in front of Seth’s face. “…It’s loaded, isn’t it?” Adam asked.

Seth didn’t respond, his empty eyes staring at the gun in front of him.

“Everything gone…in the blink of an eye.” Adam continued. “Your friends…your family…your sanity. Cesar was like your son. You’re the reason they’re in the state they’re in now…they hate you…but I have the solution.”

Adam held the barrel of the pistol, nudging Seth with the handle. “All it takes…is one bullet.” Adam whispered in Seth’s ear, his smile widening further than what should be possible. “And everything…will fade away.”

Seth’s twitching hand grabbed the gun, staring at it as his fingers ran across the metal. Adam placed one of his hands on Seth’s shoulder, his smile becoming more crazed as Seth gripped the handle and pointed the barrel of the gun up. Seth smiled, his smile lopsided and wide as he stood still. Silence fell for a moment as the barrel was pointed into Seth’s chin, until he jerked it to the side and fired.

Adam’s head flung back as the bullet pierced his jaw and out through the top of his head. Adam screamed before stumbling back and falling to the ground, his hands grasping his head as Seth slowly stood up, ignoring the cracks from his knees. Seth turned towards Adam, seeing that his eyes were wide, his dilated pupils focused on him. Seth swung his gun up, firing into Adam’s head, neck, and chest. The series of shots echoed throughout the street until it ran out of bullets. Seth pulled the trigger multiple times before he processed that it was empty and stopped. He slowly lowered his gun, trembling slightly as he stared at Adam’s unmoving body.

“…If you were smart…” Seth muttered. “You’d stay dead.”

Seth put the gun back into his holster before unzipping his jacket, slipping it off as he looked at the wound in his shoulder. It was bleeding steadily from the hole, and needed to be disinfected as soon as possible. Seth held up his hoodie, seeing the now bloodied letters “BPS” written on the front, which was interrupted by a large tear in the fabric. Seth dropped the now meaningless hoodie, leaving it behind as he limped past Adam’s body and further into town.

He wasn’t sure when or where he’d see Mark again, or when he’d start to feel the mental anguish that was surely going to hit him like a freight train, but at that moment he didn’t care. He didn’t even think of anything; unsure of how he would get home. Though he supposed it wouldn’t matter, as the thought of going home alone and seeing an empty house made him sick. All he could think was what he would do when he saw Mark’s hollow face again.

All he knew is that when he saw that bastard again, he would regret letting Seth walk away alive.

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safetyobstacles · 10 months ago

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I finished osnf after almost 2 months and

You know that feeling when you finish a piece of media you really enjoyed, whether it be a show or game or book. And now its over and you can never go back and experience it for the first time again.

That's how I feel :,)

I made a post while I watched the whole thing, it's like if I liveblogged but I stuffed it all into one very long post. So it's kind of all over the place. But if you went through the episode you could pinpoint exactly when i added to it lol

spoilers under here

https://www.tumblr.com/safetyobstacles/733757650447335424/starting-o-segredo-na-floresta-now-im-either?source=share

thats the link to the post, its also just pinned to my blog until i start desconjuração

i would like to thank anyone who read my update post before i finished watching. and when they saw on EPISODE ONE that i was saying "dont take Thiago from me :,)". and nobody spoiled. that Thiago. dies.

:((((((((((((((((((((

also i got an irl friend of mine into ordem, she's watched the whole first series and is almost done with episode 2 of osnf. and her favourite character is Cris :) funny enough she recognized Rakin from league of legends but not anybody else

the fight against the deus da morte. SO COOL. THE CUTSCENE. bro the little buildup to the cutscene with the goo tentacles covering the screen. and the music. THE MUSIC. and then he went and hugged liz. and now she is old. and now she has no thiago. but at least she still has Gonzales' dog. probably.

the way Santo Berço died btw. ow. ouch. the imagery is gonna stick with me for a while. Cibele. he really did in Cibele like that. damn bro.

special shoutout to the Succ. rpg wouldnt be the same without it. and Felps for blindsiding me and then dying like 3 hours later.

also kinda crazy that cellbit can just keep pulling these random npc's out of his ass and making me care about them.

speaking of npc's, all of the Vulture's deaths were fucked but Murilo's made me extra sad idk why. his buddy bit him :(

i think my favourite scene outside of the liz, thiago, joui scene in the last episode, was the bit after they killed the big slug in the asylum. idk the pacing of it was just really cool to me, the drawing in the sludge and losing sanity without realizing. for me it set up this feeling of "you cant trust anything you dont know for certain about" for the entire rest of osnf.

that fucking house btw. i wanted them to leave that house the moment they got gregorio out of that room. i hate that house. i would like for that house to explode.

i want to put Arthur in a shoebox for safe keeping so that he may never get hurt again. Cesar too. Joui as well. and Liz.

ill probably take a week or two to mourn finishing this series before moving onto Desconjuração. which is a very fun word to type. probably will make another post like i did this time to put all my updates in as i watch it.

thanks ordem paranormal for injecting into my braincells i dont think ill ever be over you

dude im so sad about thiago you have no idea

#ordem paranormal #o segredo na floresta

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

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Girl P3

Media The last Legion

Character Romulus Agustus (Age Up)

Couple Romulus X Reader

Rating Sad + Cute

Requested Anonymous asked:

Pls pls pls make a part 3 of girl with romulus it's sooooooo good ❤️

He stood at the end of the corridor, bow in hand firing his arrows down the hall to the items he found boring or uninteresting I had to stand and compliment him whenever he did hit… close to something most of the time he only ever hit the stand and podiums things sat on. He hit the podium edge making it wiggle and the priceless vase from the east giggled and toppled over onto the floor smashing with a spray of dust and shattered pottery.

"Yes!" He cheered,

"Well done your grace,"

"A perfect shot!"

"Indeed it was your grace,"

"I keep making shots like that they'll have to out me as head of the army,"

"They will your grace,"

"Humm I make another shot like that you better start getting on your knees and sucking my cock,"

"If you ask it of me, your grace,"

"You know it takes years of practice and gods given skill just to hold a bow you know," he said, "And then even more gruelling training and skills to be able to fire with any sort of competency, and even then most are not able to do such things,"

I knew what I was next to say but it did not flow as automatically as usual "It is a coward's weapon," the moment it left my mouth I realized what I had done

"What did you say?" He snapped

"Nothing your grace-"

"What did you say!" He screamed throwing his bow it splintered on the floor as he threw it with such force

"I said archery is how cowards fight," I admit

In response, he slapped my face so hard my body hit the floor "Say that again and I'll have your head girl." He said through gritted teeth "Now, What do we say."

I adjusted myself and fixed my dress as I stood, doing my best to remain composed

"Archery is how a coward fights, for you stand as far back on the battlefield as anyone, you stand back and let others fight for you, you kill men from a distance never seeing their eyes, never spilling their blood yourself, it is a coward fight, skilled I admit but cowardly none the less," I explained

"You dare call me a coward!" He yelled grabbing my dress and pinning me to the wall "I am the emperor of Roma and all of her illustrious empire, master of all her armies and her people, I am the blood of Cesar." he yelled "I AM YOUR KING!… I. am. Your god." He said dropping me hard onto the floor "You, are some shit-born peasant girl. Whom I have only given this sort of standing because I like her tits. I have given you everything you are, and this. Is how you repay my kindness. Why on earth do you feel you can talk this way to me!"

"Because you need me," I said leaning against the wall so I could sit there moving my knee up to rest my arm

"NEED YOU!" He yelled turning back to me "Why would I ever need you? You are a whore nothing more, the only thing I need you for is to jump on my cock. So go on. Humor me. Why do I need you?"

"You need me because you are cripplingly lonely. You've spent thought whole life locked up in Grand villas and Roman palaces, cuddled my nurse maids and politics teachers. And now you don't even have that. Your people despise you, your court thinks your childish, your advisors think you're a spoilt brat, and even the girls you keep as whores would rather lose their heads than spent time alone with you! Your mother is dead, your father is dead, and the only reason you are even on the throne this young is because there is literally one else who can be, everyone is busy dealing with the empire you don't know how to run and dont want to run, all while giving you some random woman off the street just to keep you from doing something stupid and causing more problems! " I yelled, "You put on this bastardly tough skill because you know inside you just a scared lonely little kid, without any family, without a single friend, because your a spoilt little asshole so scared and fearful of letting anyone in the stupid shell in case they leave you like mummy and daddy did!" I yell "So you need me! Because without me you are just scared. little boy." I took a breath as I accepted my fate, everything I had wanted to say over the year of my imprisonment came out and I knew he was going to kill me, crucify me, behead me if I was lucky enough to not be tortured to death in a thousand different ways but I didn't expect -

"Wwaaaaaaahhhhh!" tears flooded down his face as he hysterically cried like a child

"Uhhhh… are you crying?" I asked

He sat on the floor crying sniffling, gasping for breath in that way you do when you cry so badly his face was soaked from his tears and even goo from his nose as he cried

"Uhh are you okay?" I asked going over a little nervously

"Your right!" He cried

"Ohh no no it's okay"

"No, you're right! I'm just a spoilt child! And I don't have anyone I can talk to or spend time with! I'm so sorry for being a dick!" he cried pulling me into a hug

"Oh dear, no its okay you're not that much of a dick" I reassured stroking his hair

"No, I am! I'm a dick! I'm a terrible person! And everyone hates me!"

"I mean… Kinda."

"Wwaaaaaaahhhhh!"

"It's okay! It's okay now you know maybe now you can take steps to improve make things better"

"I don't like change!"

"Well nobody likes to change Romulus, but it's important to change, to grow and improve" I reassured and after a while of comforting him he settled down and wiped his tears away

"I'm sorry"

"Thank you for your apology"

"Nobody ever talked to me like that before."

"I think it was a while overdue"

"Your right, I've been a dick, everyone just didn't want to tell me"

"Well most of them were scared of you, myself included"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you think that about me, I'm sorry for being such a cunt."

"It's alright, it's easy to see why you… turned out to be rotten"

"I want to be better."

"You do?"

"I think so, Would you help me?"

"If that's what you want Romulus."

"I think so. Would you help?"

"I'd be happy to help"

"Would you marry me?"

"Wh-what?"

"Would you marry me?"

"Uhhh why?"

"So you can be the empress, so you can fix things. I promise I won't hurt you again."

"You'll really try and be better?"

"I will"

"You won't be a dick anymore?"

"I'll try"

"You won't hurt me?"

"Never."

"Well… Okay" I nodded

"Really? After everything I've done to you"

"If your really willing to try then I'm willing to help, but you so much as call me a rude name without an apology this empress is gonna kick the emperor's royal ass."

"Thats fair" he nods giving my cheek a little kiss

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #romulus imagine #romulus augustus #romulus smut #romulus pendragon

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hoperoiselover · 1 year ago

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AHSGDGAHGDAJ SCHOOL IS BEATING MY ASS :SOB: GOD BLESS, BUT ANYWAY I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS CHAPTER, THIS CHAPTER WILL LEAD ONTO MORE EVENTS WHERE WE CAN SEE CHARACTERS INTERACTING MORE AND BUILDING RELATIONSHIPS! (so that the climax totally won't hit harder-) BUT ANYWHO- ENJOY!! <3 :] READ CHAPTER TWELVE ON AO3 HERE! Tw: Alcohol stay safe <3 CHAPTER TWELVE, EYE IN THE STORM

It was using their voices.

His Mother’s tender and soft hums. The same ones that sung him to sleep at night when he had a nightmare. Her voice would echo in the room as she had cradled him in her arms.

He could hear his Father’s rough yet comforting chuckles. He could imagine him smiling, his crooked front teeth and prickly beard. Just like when he used to read bedtime stories to him as he sat on his Father’s leg.

Mark stepped towards the stairs. He could not see anything. The darkness of the stairs wrapped around his feet as Mark stepped closer. His bottom lip quivered. Was it really them? Had they truly come back?

“Mark?.. What are you doing out of bed kiddo?.. Everything alright?” Dave stood outside his bedroom door. He leaned against the door frame, his voice soft and deep.

“I…I thought I heard something…” Mark mumbled as he fidgeted with his hoodie strings. The darkness emitting from the stairs receded.

“Oh Mark… come on,.. Let’s get you back in bed… If you want I can turn on the hall lights,” Dave sighed softly, looking at the little scared boy in front of him.

“...O-okay..” Mark shook and slowly went over to his Uncle. He hugged his Uncle’s leg and sniffed.

Dave was worried for his nephew. The poor boy had gone through so much in his life, and he was so young too. He picked up Mark and held him close as he turned on the hallway lights, “Better buddy?”

“Mhm.. b-better..” Mark nodded and bit his fingers.

Dave sighed and walked back to Mark’s room. He placed Mark down on the bed and smiled softly, “Come on, get some sleep kiddo. You and ‘Sar are going back to Stanley’s tomorrow. Stanley said he had something fun planned for you kids in the afternoon,”

He smiled and patted Mark’s head, he hoped that talking to him about something positive would help Mark calm down.

“What is i-it?” Mark looked at Uncle Dave, and started to tuck himself in next to Cesar.

“Said he’s going to take you kiddos to the park to play and get you guys some ice cream,” Dave smiled softly and stood up, helping Mark get tucked in.

“Ice cream!” Mark smiled, a sparkle in his eyes made Dave chuckle quietly and patted the boy’s chest.

“Yeah! Now sleep, we want you all energized for tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, Uncle Dave.”

“Love you kiddo,”

“Love you too, Uncle.”

Dave kissed Mark’s forehead and smiled. He walked out of Mark’s bedroom and looked back from the door frame. Mark waved at him, and he waved back before heading back to his room, leaving the hallway lights on.

“-and I just don’t get it right. Like, he seems like a good kid but I just don’t know man, I want to help him and understand what the hell is going on but I'm just confused and a part of me wants to think that Ms. Cruz is crazy right, but I know she isn’t. She’s a mother concerned for her son, which tons of respect to her for that, like my mom was protective as hell with me when I was a kid but fuck man. I’m just-.... confused- you know?” Stanley looked at the man sitting on his bar stool chair as he cleaned his living room and kitchen.

Thatcher sighed and took a sip from his beer can, “Jesus dude-”

“I know right? Like-”

“Stanley, Stanley… please, calm down for a sec’, alright?” Thatcher cut off the smaller male and looked at him. Stanley had been ranting to him for the past twenty minutes about a worried mother and his story of discovering that one of the ‘boys’ she brought in might be an alternate. Thatcher had gotten a call from his friend and asked if he wanted to hang out with him at his place. Here Thatcher now was, sipping beer and wishing he was in bed.

Stanley sighed, “Sorry Thatch.”

“Nah dude, it’s okay, just calm down for a second…”

Stanley sat next to Thatcher on the parallel barstool and took a deep breath, “I’m tired Thatcher…”

“Then get some sleep buddy… I don’t know how you do it, working all day with kids, dealing with your own needs, cleaning, and everything else. Maybe you could use some help…” Thatcher rested his hand on Stanley’s back.

“I can’t afford to get help, Thatch.. You know I can’t…” Stanley looked at the blonde and sighed again, “But enough about me. How was your day?”

“Uh, well, those missing people files still fill my office… I can’t go in there anymore without feeling I’m going to go crazy… So I just sat at the front desk by the phone. I got a few calls, and guess what, more missing people… I was out all afternoon talking to people and filing paperwork… Maybe I should’ve become a mechanic or something I don’t know… Maybe I should’ve helped you out with your gig…” Thatcher took another drink from his beer.

Stanley smiled sadly and chuckled, “No,... I think you’re a pretty good cop…”

“Bullshit Montgomery,” Thatcher dryly laughed.

“I mean it you idiot!” Stanley playfully shoved Thatcher a bit, “Look,.. I know things have been rough since… we lost them… ,but we have to keep on pushing through…”

“Yeah… I know… Hey, I had a woman come into the station this morning, and said she found a kid named Adam just like your kid. She seemed stressed as hell. She looked like she saw a ghost when looking through the database of missing people. Didn’t say a thing when she left,” Thatcher looked at his now empty beer can.

“Really? Huh, did she have dark brown hair, wore a vest and the determination of a protective mother?” Stanley nudged Thatcher lightly, trying to keep the mood lighthearted.

Thatcher chuckled, “Yup, that sounds like her, so what’s her name? She walked out before I could get any info on her.. And I was too tired to care from my last shift-,”

“Ah,... Well, her name is Eliana Marshall, but she is using her maiden last name which is Cruz,” Stanley thought and nodded to himself.

“Mmh…. Alright, thanks dude…”

“Of course….”

“Want another beer?”

“God, yes.” END OF CHAPTER TWELVE, EYE IN THE STORM

#tmc #the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue au #the kiddela catalogue #mark heathcliff #cesar torres #thatcher davis #stanley m.#tw: alcohol #dave lee #FIANLLY I FUCKING POSTED IT HERE- SHIT MAN-

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awkwardsizeshifter · 1 year ago

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Dug up more of the AU bs feat. Eve's ref since she's the main character in this AU

Anyways, the puppets in this AU are part of a now cancelled children's show (cancellation was due to supernatural things happening on the stage, film crew members getting mysteriously injured/winding up dead) which the public/showrunners collectively blamed on the puppets (although it was directly the alternates looking to cause as much death/harm as possible)

Speaking of the puppets, the puppets were created by Gabriel and O'Brien (unlike canon, these two are different people. their dynamic works like William Afton and Henry Emily from FNAF, Gabriel being William and O'Brien being Henry), though Gabriel decided the puppets had little 'soul' and...well. sent alternates to kill 4 specific victims. Rather than "replacing" their victims, however, they take the victims life force (well, in layman's terms, souls)

Cue the puppets ending up possessed by all four victims

Onto Evelin, she was hired to watch over the puppets and make sure no ill-intentioned burglars found their way into the warehouse the puppets are stored in. Of course, a few nights in and she begins to feel watched by the 14'0 ft puppets looming in the center of the warehouse. Which, come morning, has her making a mad dash to her shitty little Toyota Corolla and peeling out of there

Which only serves to make the puppets more curious about her, she's small and cute (in a platonic sense), so on the 5th night, poor girl damn near has a heart attack when there's a puppet staring at her while she's reorganizing the shelves in the warehouse, practically hovering over her

Safe to say, she leaves early, throws her flashlight at said puppet (Jonah) and dips.

She does eventually befriend the puppets, specifically Jonah and Adam. They're immediately protective of her and growly (rarely even allowing Mark and Cesar to hold her).

A few small side notes, to finish off this lengthy post

This AU takes place during 2009-2010. a little after Volume 3 and 4 but post Catalyst

Thatcher, Dave, Ruth and Sarah are the only other humans in this AU, Thatcher's the oldest at 37, Dave's 36, Ruth's 34 and Sarah's 20 in that order (all ages are just speculation, since Alex is vague as hell/lh)

The puppets are eldritch in some form, though it only really shows up if alternates are around/Evelin's being threatened

Evelin has a bastard of a supervisor, who's a one off OC named Stanley Clark. The puppets dislike him a lot and have put the fear of god into him so he'd leave Eve the hell alone

Small addition I forgot to add: Evelin's a foster kid in this AU, though she was kicked to the curb by her foster family at the time. Thankfully Dave found her, unfortunately it was a year after Mark disappeared ;w;

#g/t #giant/tiny #sfw g/t #mandela catalogue g/t #puppet au #small tidbit but jonah/adam/eve are queerplatonic partners because their bond becomes unbreakable and theyre all ace because i Said So

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alharringtonfan · 8 months ago

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Why Vol.1 of TMC is a Christian allegory

Mark is 17... 17... 1 and 7... 7... 6 days for the creation of the Earth and the heavens, 1 day to rest... 6 +1 = 7. 7th day, completion, rest, fulfillment... Mark's date of death predetermined?!?!? Earthly duties are done?@?? Mark is a saint??! Martyr??? YES. ATHEIST COPS FABRICATED HIS JOURNAL ENTRIES TO MAKE IT SEEM HE WAS HAVING DOUBTS ABOUT HIS FAITH. MARK WOULD NEVER. THATCHER FAKED HIS SUICIDE.

More proof: Mark spent 3 days locked up.... Jesus... was resurrected in 3 days.

Coincidence? I think NOT!!! Will Mark be resurrected?!?!? Finale of tmc predicted?,, Mark reborn as an angel???

Want more proof? Mark. M-A-R-K. You know what else has four letters? FISH. JESUS' FOLLOWERS. THE TRUE BELIEVERS. YHWH! THE NAME OF GOD!!! MARK IS A GOOD CHRISTIAN BOY AND I WONT HEAR A WORD AGAINST IT!!!

Now, Cesar. C-E-S-A-R. You know what else has 5 letters? SATAN.

SATAN KILLED MARK AND MADE THE WORLD BELIEVE HE GAVE UP ON HIS FAITH. MARK WOULD NEVER. HE IS A GOOD BOY!

YOU KNOW WHO ELSE HAS 5 LETTERS? JUDAS. THE TRAITOR. THE ONE WHO BETRAYED MARK!!! THE TANTALIZING EVIL WHO STRAYS US FURTHER FROM GOD'S LIGHT!! BUT MARK WOULD NEVER!!

okay okay. Just ome more proof... On 8:00 of the meant to be Vol.1 Mark says: "you fucking bastard". Blasphemous cursing aside Do you know the significance of the njmber 8 in Christianity? Neither did I, but one quick google search away...

See??? MARK WILL BE RESURRECTED!!? I TOLD YOU!!

Now flip the 8 and... TA-DA! INFINITE! FAITH IN CHIRST IS ♾️! IT NEVERS WITHERS! HALLELUJAH!

Now, "Bastard"... Do you know the meaning of the word bastard? Well I do. According to Google translate, if you convert it to Portuguese, the result will be:

"Degraçado" is one without God's grace. Underservibg of it, and, consequently, one that is lost to the ignorance of the world; a pawn of Lucifer's reign. A desgraced spawn birthed from the entrails of lilith herself. Mark is telling ys that Satan has no redemption. He is forever abstained from God's love, cast down to Earth to never come back for having dared to defy his heavenly grace. Mark may be gone from the physical world, but his soul will indefinitely live on. He will be passed onto another recepient, and to spread His message will be his sole goal. Mark, like Saint Mark, has been maimed, toyed with by the devil. But his legacy lives on.

In summary, Mark and his story are an allegory to Christ. He spent 3 days enclosed, much like how Jesus was tempted 3 times by the Devil to give up on his devotion to God. And just as He was risen on the third day, Mark rose; for he refused to abdicate from his faith. And preferred to face death, rather than giving himself to Judas in exchange of freedom. Mark is the ultimate Christian symbol, change my effing mind atheists! More like LOSERISTS AMIRITE?!?

#alex makes actual good analogies in his series good for him #text

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henriiiii-1001old · 1 year ago

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tell me more about cesar in the fairytale au!! or anything about the uhhhhhh news cast au i cant remember the name of ti right now im sorry

i keep forgetting i need to make my fucking channel 3 subplot au masterpost ough </////3 i also just need to make more content abt it in general but fairy tale au got stuck in my headdd <//////3 (also nw on not remembering the name its fucking long as shit so i get it xdddd )

um i'll just say it here, theres this one tmc oc (he's basically an oc/self insert of a music artist. yknow the guy who did overthrone and intruder? yeah, that guy) i decided to add in bc haha funny news reporter. his name is langston solover (i fucking love that name idk why) and he's actually an alternate.

there used to be a real langston, but he got killed by some other alt who took his place. started spreading propaganda about like "the true savior" and shit and the newscast was like "nonono let him cook he's kinda onto something"

he is honestly also just a silly goofy guy i love him <3

ANYWAYS FAIRY TALE CESAR!!!!!

ok this will only make sense if i bring the other characters in so let me give a brief summary of one of the bigger moments of the au

SO, the fabled four solved the whole evie getting poisoned thing, and theyre all chilling. someone finds evie and decides to snitch on her being away from the castle for too long. things happen where evie and adam get taken to her castle, she gets locked in her room but eventually escapes w adam and all that (you know what im talking abt reaper but im just gonna keep it vague and i'll explain the full thing to everyone else later :3 )

cesar actually had become increasingly worried about evie since she had been missing for a few days. after hearing she was with a witch of all people, he was extremely concerned.

he does have a good reason not to trust adam though, cesar had saved mark and sarah from one who was literally about to kill them, and cesar also got cursed by the same one who tried killing them. he had stayed as a frog for years, and when he finally broke free of the curse, he had become so deformed that his family didnt even recognize him.

but no matter how hard he tried, evie wouldnt change her mind.

and neither would cesar for a good long time, especially since one of evie's castle staff ended up being on the witches' side gathering info for them. he'd eventually come around and trust evie that adam means no harm. he doesnt trust adam directly, but hey, that's a good start!!!

#station interviews #thanks for the ask man <3 #mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #tmc fairy tale au #langston solover #evidence reel #friend tag #cesar torres

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picketlinepitchin · 1 year ago

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[Image description: a card titled “Meet the fanartists. Artists of Pitch-In”. On the left is a drawing of a person with Compress from BNHA. A smile has been drawn onto his mask. Compress is wearing a top hat with a red band and a light yellow feather, a red shirt, a black vest, and a green necklace with a green pendant set in gold. Below the drawing are two links: 1. cesarecross.tumblr.com 2. twitter.com/cesarecross On the right is text that reads “Cesare (Any Pronouns). Hello hello! I love creating things and seeing people create. So while I have no idea who to say about myself, I can give you a sign to start making or doing that thing you’ve been meaning to. Now go! Draw! Write! Cook! Whatever it is! I believe in you! Favorite Fandoms: BNHA, Haikyuu!!, Pokemon Fangames.” Below that is the Picket Line Pitch-In logo, and three links: 1. twitter.com/Fanart4Donations 2. tumblr.com/picketlinepitchin 3. picketlinepitch-in.carrd.co . End description]

Spotlights on Cesare! Cesare creates and craves creation, and this fundraiser is the perfect place for them! Thanks so much for joining the Pitch-In, and welcome aboard!

#picket line pitch in #artist spotlight #writers strike #wga strong #support the wga #wga strike #actors strike #sag strike #sag aftra #fanart 4 donation fundraiser #image description #image description in alt text

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covecornerarchive · 2 years ago

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selfshippinglover asked:

How about general hcs for the villains?

Aw yee!

This won't be all the ones I have for them, just some off the top of my head. Also keep in mind these might include some stuff that are more in line with my own adaptation I'm working on, so they might contradict some of the info in the wiki

Horace Horrible:

- During most of season 1, he is just the most eccentric, bat shit man you'll ever meet. Very high energy nearly 24/7 and little volume control.

- For the first few episodes he and the Rubber Fishes crew are the main villains of the show, and most of their antics include robbing other pirate crews, beating the Laughingstock crew to treasure, kidnapping Janice for ransom, and sometimes just finding ways to mess with the protagonists and make their day considerably worse for the heck of it.

- On the antagonist scale, he falls in the team rocket category if that makes any sense, at least during the beginning of season 1. He's still villainous, and a considerable threat to the protagonists, but in a more comical, theatrical sense to where he's more fun than threatening to the audience.

- A running gag in the show is that he comes up with just....the most crazy, unnecessarily complicated schemes that don't really make a whole lot of sense.

- While he does really play up the whole "evil pirate who cares for no one and just wants power," shtick, and while a good portion of it's really how he is, he does show moments of genuinely caring for others, mainly to his crew and sometimes skin-taker in some cases.

- He's short, somewhere around 5 foot 4 inches, and while he's not insecure about it, he does where shoes adjacent to plat-former's to seem more intimidating. Despite this I always draw him as if he's 3 inches tall-

- He wasn't always a pirate, despite what he says about his life long dream to have always been "to become the greatest and most feared pirate to sail the seas." He actually used to be a street magician before he saw what the life of a pirate was like, decided "oh this fucks!" on jumped onto that instead.

- Personality wise I see him being similar to something like Cesare from Big Top Burger.

- Dude is actually really flamboyant and dresses pretty fancy. Over the course of the show he wears a series of different over the top outfits.

- Scruffy man

- While he makes threats and does some pretty villainous stuff in the beginning, before Skin-taker came along it's hard to see him as...100% malicious, if that makes any sense. Like, he's still evil, but you never get the sense he's seriously trying to kill anyone or ruin lives in any way. It's heavily implied when first summoning skin-taker for aid after a series of losses against the laughingstock he wasn't fully aware of all the horrors that'd come with it.

- However, over the course of the series after Skin-taker is summoned, we do begin to see Horace becoming more malicious himself.

Skin-taker:

- Yeaaaaaah big bad man lets goooo!!

- When Skin-taker first appears all he has is his worn and slightly tattered hat and cape. However, not only does his cape grow longer over the course of the show, but by the finale he has a full outfit made from skin (skin suit if you will).

- My version of Skin-taker does not fully remember his time as Thade Soben by the time the main series begins as he lost most of those memories along with his mind. He'll have small moments of remembering every now and again, but they're jumbled, few and far between, and afterwards he's just "lol that was weird, anyways-"

- This is actually @candlecovewiki's head cannon: Skin-taker (and Thade) actually has an association with butterflies. Through out the show, there are times where a black butterfly can be seen on screen, usually moments before he appears or something relating to death or danger occurs to one of the characters, and butterfly imagery can be seen if looked for in places associated with him. This is because butterflies often symbolize death or rebirth. It's been noticed that Janice seems to have an association with them as well, as she has a butterfly hair clip.

- there are so many parallels between skin-taker and janice in both their characters and arcs through out the show its not even funny-

- Skin-taker is genuinely creepy and very intimidating, but like, he doesn't try to be. Don't get me wrong, he's 100% aware how he scares people and often uses that to his advantage, but in most cases he's not consciously trying to horrify people, he's just naturally like that.

- He's either very polite, and well spoke with just enough of a bad vibe that you're not quite sure if he's threatening you or genuinely trying to be friendly, or a complete eldritch cryptid who will brutally steal your knee caps no questions asked.

- After Skin-taker comes to candle cove, the show's writing, specifically in regards to the other characters, begins to gain more depth and delve into far more darker elements. It's not that every thing is one dimensional before that, but everything really does get a lot more complicated after he shows up.

- Despite literally being the main villain, he's the only one who never has cursed. Instead he opts to make up silly words to substitute (and it has a worse affect anyways).

- He has a sword that looks like a far bigger version of a skinning knife, and is made up of mostly bone.

- Skin-taker can just summon shit out of thin hair. He never carries anything on him he just reaches behind his back and boom, pulls out a sword, where the hell did he get it???

- He can't read a room for the life of him. He never knows how to respond to other's emotions and when it comes to tone he doesn't initially recognize sarcasm and tends to take most things literally.

- Despite that he actually really likes puns and riddles.

- He has really weird out of nowhere moments where he's just...nice??? And they're in regards to the oddest stuff you'd never suspect??? Like, a part of why he's so unnerving is you never know if he's about to brutally murder you and your loved ones or invite you to tea (or both). It's not known if this behavior is intentional in order to keep his enemies on their toes or if since he doesn't see his killings as wrong he just thinks he's acting completely normal.

- An example of this is how he's completely fine with attacking the laughingstock crew on any day other than a crew members birthday because hey c'mon he's evil but that's just mean (except Poppy, he remembers Poppy's birthday so he can SPECIFICALLY attack on that day).

- Plays the viola

- Can do stuff like detach his dead and limbs and them remaining fully functioning while so.

- Has this thing where if you're pretty nice and are just doing your best he'll actually remain fairly courteous towards you (I mean, he'll still want to kill you, no sympathy for the living and all), but if you're a jackass you die faster.

- Is the only one who knows what a meme is.

- no regards for personal space.

Red Mary-

- Red Mary is the only other character besides Skin-taker who directly addresses the audience. She hardly does it as frequently, only in the prequel books, and seems to hold more animosity towards them, implying those watching at home are just as bad as her, as they do nothing but watch her drag characters they "love" through hell for entertainment.

- Only character to still address Skin-taker as Thade (he haaaaates it).

- Red Mary keeps her motives fairly cryptid, but it seems as though she's furious that humans, beings who are weak and live such short lives, get to inhabit a beautiful world, while powerful abyssians like her have been forced to reside in the abyssal kingdom, a void when compared to the latter. She claims she wants to "burn the world and make a new from the ashes," so that only she and others as powerful as her can reside in it "as they deserve."

- In my version she actually joins the Tarantula Crew a while after Thade, and instead of Thade recognizing her as a prisoner from Tartarus, he does so because she was the cause of the burning of his past crews ship, him being the only one to get out (something I might go more into in the future when I explain my own adaptation).

- She seems to join the crew because she catches wind onto the fact they're hunting for a powerful artifact (her subject for betrayal), and because she recognizes Thade as the powerful necromancer she let go from the ship she had burned then.

- Her relationship with Thade before the betrayal was....weird to say the least??? Before revealing her true colors she was deceptively sweet and charismatic, and always seemed to make a point to be kind and make friends with Thade especially. She did this because she realized how powerful he was and wanted to eventually convince him to betray the crew with her when she did so. Buuut Thade was kind of creeped out by how overly nice she was so it never worked.

- She also fucking loathes him because how despite being wielder of one of the most rare and powerful magics (necromancy), he doesn't want to use it or get more powerful, and is perfectly content with "throwing it all away," so he could just spend time with the Tarantula crew (people who wouldn't even live as long as a fraction of his own life).

- She actually believes she did him a favor with taking it all away and causing him to become skin-taker.

- She old. Around 200 while Skin-taker is around 100.

- She just becomes more eldritch and unrecognizable as human as her quest goes on and her magic becomes more powerful. It's pretty grotesque actually.

- Much like how Thade/ Skin-taker is associated with butterfly imagery, she's associated with crow imagery. This may be due to many different folk lore including a connection between crows and the creation, or at least element, of fire. One of which being the tale of Prometheus, whose liver was pecked out by crows every day as punishment fro giving the gift of fire to man, a myth Red Mary actually references during her time with the Tarantula Crew.

- The fire that comes from her magic can't be put out by natural means, and anything it alights is cursed to burn forever, even in death. Only someone with water oriented magic can put her fires out.

- After she burned the Tarantula ship, she just took it for herself. Legend says if you see this ghostly ship, on fire yet still sailing, and captained by the devil herself, you will die in your next battle at sea (news flash, that battle is probably with her because when she sees anything in her path her only thought is "MAIM KILL DESTROY")

- shaaaaarp teeth

- Feels nothing for humans and less powerful abyssians, just viewing them as either insects, or short lived amusements.

(October 14, 2021)

#candle cove

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cedefaci · 1 year ago

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Five Times Vongola Settimo retrieved corpses at his CEDEF counterpart’s behest, and one time he made one

Vongola Settimo had the weakest Flame of all Vongola Bosses, but his CEDEF Commander was conversely, the strongest. Little is known of the enigmatic Spada, save that he was responsible for CEDEF's assumption of codenames based on herbs and spices, and that never had the CEDEF been more bloody and more brutal than under his leadership. Together, these two men laid down the foundations of what Daniela, the legendary Vongola Ottavo, would build upon to secure Vongola's place as the undisputed sovereign over a tight-knit Alliance of Families.

And yet these men's close-knit partnership broke apart, as the pressure of Iron Prefect Cesare Mori's campaign against the mafia grew. In the end, Spada chose not to rescue his dearest friend when he was imprisoned, awaiting trial, choosing instead to save and crown his goddaughter, Daniela, instead.

A love story with an angry ghost was always doomed to end in tragedy, and yet.

“You need not wish me well.” His friend kissed his hand, the hand bereft of the Vongola Ring for the first time in more than two decades. “You have already returned love to me, when all I had was hate. For your sake, Fabio, I shall avenge thee, and see your children grow old.”

Simora di Vongola, 2, 3, 4, 5, 1

“Fabio di Vongola, your father is fallen.” Katzbalger’s face was solemn. “I, his consigliere, entrusted with one half of the authority to appoint his successor, choose you in accordance with his wishes, and so discharge my last duty to him.”

Fabio took the lacquered box from the Sixth CEDEF Boss’s hands. “It is true then.”

The round-faced man closed his eyes. “The Vongola’s reach may span the world, but there was no cure to be found for Simora, in this land or any other. He has chosen his end.”

“May he rest—Damn it!” The Rings scattered onto the carpet that was probably as old as they were. “Damn it, damn it all to hell! Father knew that he was weakening, the Alliance knew he was weakening, our enemies knew that he was weakening! It didn’t make him step down even if it caused the Vongola problems, so why the fuck did he decide that now was the time to make things right? What made him think that now was the time to put duty first? Why the fuck would he leave now?”

“Perhaps…” Katzbalger began delicately.

“No, don’t you dare try to give me his excuses, he’s an egotistical fucking bastard, mother’s been praying to every saint in the book, lighting enough candles to burn the church down, she’d have fucking built one with her own bare hands if she’d thought it would give her another hour with her husband, but his pride would rather have him die as Vongola Sixth than diminish with the people who love him!”

Fabio took a deep breath. “Tell me he at least took all those Azzarà dogs with him.”

“Not quite.” Katzbalger moved towards the door, looking pointedly at the grandfather clock that stood against the wall, “He got most of them, but Spada is cleaning up the rest. You ought to bring your father’s body home and complete your Ring, Vongola Settimo.”

Vongola Settimo. Three years later than he expected, but he had the title now. How long would it take before no one called him anything else? Fabio di Vongola. Vongola Settimo. He was no longer the disappointment, only heir because he was his father’s only son. He was the Seventh in a line that had continued unbroken for a century and a half.

“Yeah,” Fabio said, following his Intuition to his ring and sliding it on his finger, “I should. So, about this Spada—he a Rain?”

The soon to be former CEDEF Boss smiled sardonically, “Because he’s washing away the blood spilled? Nah, that’s what we all do, Rain or no. If you want to know more about him, go ask him yourself.”

The smell hit him first.

After a brief, embarrassing interlude in which he picked up the Half-Rings he had scattered on the floor and distributed them to his Guardians, they had driven to the manor where Don Vongola had made his last stand. He had then left them outside while he headed past the perimeter alone.

The smell of roast meat and gunpowder, sour piss and vomit and the stink of shit from fear-loosened bowels ripening in the summer heat, hung like a cloud in the hallway. The CEDEF agent on guard duty had to have been marinating in the stench for hours, that poor soul.

“Settimo.” The young woman saluted crisply, opened the door, and stepped aside.

Fabio acknowledged her with a nod and then headed in.

Well…

On second thought, he wasn’t sure whether he was sorrier for the girl or for himself. What had seeped through the cracks had developed into a foul but generally breathable fog, but the miasma at its source had congealed into an all but physical thing, thick and rich in the stagnant air.

He stepped over a disembodied limb and avoided the tangle of entrails spilling from its owner, shoes sticking to the ground. There to the right, a man and a woman, the man’s head at an unnatural angle, the woman’s body littered with the long, shallow gashes unique to Simora’s boomerang. Behind them, shards of bone and organs stuck to wallpaper that was liberally coated in blood and brain matter. Farther off, his father’s Flame had left a cluster of bodies unrecognizable, their clothes and hair charred and blackened, their skin covered in raised blisters, patches of pale round welts like cobblestones, some smooth, some burst and weeping clear fluid. And there, on the other side of the room, a trio of corpses pressed against a window, as if they had been struck down as they tried futilely tried to escape the room, so warped that they barely passed as human, with flecks of skin and flesh around their throats and great bites taken out of the meat of their torsos.

It was then that he decided to stop cataloguing the carnage; better to let the cleaners sort it out.

Sunlight poured in like molten gold, turning the charnel pit into an oven. His father’s body had been laid out upon a makeshift bier in a liquid pool of it, severe features softened by the gilt. Someone had combed Simora’s hair, damp with sweat, back into its usual neatness, slid his eyes shut, and folded his hands over his chest with his faithful boomerang clasped between them, as if he was a warrior-king of old, grave and grand and solemn in his repose.

What was he in comparison? The last and least, chosen only for lack of other options, the disappointing only son, no hero, no leader, more clerk than king.

“Hail, Vongola Settimo.”

Fabio turned around. The speaker was dressed in a snugly tailored black suit over a waistcoat of tell-tale indigo brocade, swinging a sword-cane with lazy grace. Just his luck, the Mist was a fucking peacock, strong enough to teleport and vain enough to show off. He steeled himself.

“I have you to thank for this mess, I presume?”

The Mist bowed, long, silver-blond hair swinging freely over one shoulder. “Spada, of the CEDEF, at your service.”

“Some service.” Fabio knelt by his father’s stiff body, where the ground was clean. “You couldn’t have gotten the Ring off before rigor mortis set in?”

“Why?” Spada asked, all mock scandalized offense, “Is it not meet that Vongola’s Heir should receive his Inheritance from Vongola’s Don’s hand?”

So speaking, he vanished the glass from the windows, letting in a tepid breeze. It did little to improve their surroundings and even less to change the fact that talking with the CEDEF agent was an exercise in forbearance.

Spada was a Mist, Fabio reminded himself, and there was always something wrong with the good ones. His own Ligurio wasn’t much better. He sat back on his heels, prize in hand. “Are you advising me, Outside Advisor?”

“Merely being conscientious.” The scent of orange flower water swirled about them as Spada joined Fabio at his father’s side. “After all, my authority extends only to this—”

He tapped the CEDEF Half-Ring on Fabio’s finger. “—and even then only when you bestow it onto me.”

A reminder. The man had not been confirmed CEDEF Commander yet.

Spada was presumptuous, insolent. But he had earned it with his casual power, exercised with breathtaking mastery, with Katzbalger’s trust, giving him responsibility over the matters of Succession, and with his encyclopaedic knowledge of law and custom, even if it was used to push the lines of acceptable conduct precisely as far as they would go.

Who, in their generation, could hold a candle to that bonfire? His father’s fingers were warmthless and stiff under his own.

Certainty was addicting, Will fed on itself. Don Vongola slid his Ring off and dropped both halves in Spada’s hands.

He had caught the Mist by surprise, and the other man’s disconcertment was supremely gratifying.

“What is this, Fabio di Vongola?” Spada counterattacked, drawling to buy time, “Such impropriety. You have not received the Sin—it is not yet time for me to take this back.”

“The giving of these Rings from one hand to another’s signifies much.” Settimo said, meeting the eyes of what could be the strongest Mist in the world, but for the Arcobaleno, “From me to you—trust. From you to me…”

“…support.” Spada concluded, “Is that what you ask of me, Vongola Settimo?”

Fabio looked down at that little twist of some unknown alloy, passed down through the generations, “With his half alone, my father enacted vendetta that shall soon shake the Underworld, but in me, the blood runs thin. I shall need its mate as well, if I am to hold my own with the sword as well as the pen.”

“If that is what you require,” Spada completed the Sky Ring and held it for Fabio to take, “Then the strength of the CEDEF is yours to command.”

Fabio accepted the offering and rose to his feet.

The sun had moved. The light was fading. It was time. “Well?” He asked, “Who shall carry my father to his final rest?”

It was the question Spada had been waiting for, as expected. The peacock of a Mist stood and struck the ground with his cane.

“Who else, but the defeated dead?” He laughed, as mangled corpses shuddered to life.

“Who else.” Fabio repeated flatly. There was always something wrong with the good Mists, and he had chosen this one of his own free will. Who else indeed. He raised his chin and joined his CEDEF Commander at the front of the ghastly pallbearer’s queue.

Currently, CEDEF codenames are based on different types of swords, from the german Katzbalger to the Roman Spada. (Yes, Daemon is just going by his surname) Fabio’s guardians, on the other hand, are named after the characters from Machiavelli’s satirical comedy“the Mandrake”.

#khrrarepairweek2023 #sky day #corpse retrieval #Vongola Settimo #Vongola Fabio #CEDEF settimo #Daemon Spade #Vongola Settimo/Daemon Spade #Vongola Daniela #vongola eighth #Vongola seventh generation guardians

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