#even if nothing bad had ever happened to either of them in yharnam it still never would have been a happy ending for them

[yharnamesque]

Dude I fucking hate having two OCs whose story with one another can only end one way in ultimate tragedy because they would be SO fucking in love with one another they were always meant to be and yet they absolutely cannot ever be so

Darnell would set the world on fire for Silence and shield her body from the flames with his all so he could rebuild it into a much more tender and gentle place that would treat her as she deserves

[mrslittletall]

Title: Audience with Ebrietas Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Ebrietas Daughter of the Cosmos Word Count: 2.323 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425356

Summary: Ebrietas has been alone for a long time until one day a certain group managed to make contact with her.

(Author's note: I am in a Bloodborne writing server and we decided to make a "secret santa", only that it was like five days to christmas, so we set our deadline to be valentine's day instead.

So this is a secret santa fic that gets posted on valentine's day, so don't be too confused that it isn't shippy at all ^^' I was the secret santa for 0plus2equals1, who writes really great fics about the choir, check them out.)

Ebrietas hadn't gotten any visitors for a long time now.

She knew that she had been left behind by her kin, they all had managed to ascend to the cosmos while she had failed. She had stayed behind, unable to follow them. Instead of trying to follow them, she had accepted her fate and started to help the humans that would visit her, either by sharing her blood with them, that she easily could spit out or by letting herself summon to aid them via a being that was called the Augur of Ebrietas, originally a part of her body that had become its own being.

However, that felt like it had been a long time ago. Now Ebrietas was alone and... lonely. She couldn't talk to her kin anymore that had left her behind and she didn't get any human visitors anymore. In the deep labyrinth cave she was in, the only other life form that existed where aggressive and crude, none of them tried to contact her or give her gifts or ask her for help. They, however, seemed to sense that it would be a bad idea to attack her, so Ebrietas was usually left alone.

Which only fuelled the lingering loneliness inside of her. Sometimes, rarely, Ebrietas was moving away from the room she normally was housing, but she never had been able to find an exit. The place she found herself in was sealed shut. She had to accept that nobody would find her and her only companions were mindless beasts.

It had been like this for a long time now and it would stay like this, so Ebrietas just accepted her fate and stayed in her room, alone, lonely and sometimes longing for the stars that she had failed to reach. While as a Great One time hadn't much bearing on her, spending an eternity in the depths of some labyrinths without any contact was a rather dull and lonely experience.

It was a surprise for Ebrietas when she could feel herself getting summoned. It was only a partial summon, like when someone used the Augur, but also a rather weak one, as if whoever summoned her didn't had much knowledge how to use the parts she left behind.

It was only brief, but during the summon Ebrietas could get a glance on a group of people with long black coats which expressions went from surprised to shocked to excited.

The summoning was over as soon as it had come. There hadn't been enough time to speak to them, if they would even be able to withstand her voice. Humans tended to have trouble understanding the words of the Great Ones, even collapsing under the knowledge their words would plant in their brains.

Ebrietas simply decided to wait. If they had succeeded summoning a part of her once, they would probably try a second time. Maybe she could get a few words over to them once it would happen.

For a long time nothing happened. Ebrietas went back to spend day to day of her eternity in the dull loneliness of the labyrinth, starting to ask herself if she had been forgotten by the humans who used to ask for her help and who kept her company. She asked herself if the humans who had managed to summon a part of her had given up out of fear or if they hadn't been able to reproduce their success.

All questions Ebrietas didn't had an answer for, despite being a Great One. Only the ones who had properly ascended gained the complete knowledge of the cosmos. While she certainly could see on a larger scale than a human, that didn't mean that she could predict everything that would happen.

Ebrietas had some faint memories that one day she might have been human herself, but she was unsure if that were her memories or if she mixed up some stories, she had heard, through the long years of her isolation.

Then, as she was busy thinking to herself, a second summoning happened. It was brief, like the first, but Ebrietas could get a glance on the group again. They looked different this time, wearing long flowing white robes and caps that covered their eyes. Ebrietas still knew that it were the same people as with the first summoning, she could sense it.

Even though the summoning was brief, Ebrietas managed to send them a flash of an image, the room she was looking at right now, the room she stayed in. Maybe it would enough for them to find her. Ebrietas would love to find out more about that group of humans that had managed to partially summon her twice.

Since the second summoning, they had become more frequent. Ebrietas always got a glance of the white robed humans with the cap that covered their eyes when she was summoned, but the areas they were in changed. The first had looked like a study room, the second had looked like some kind of prayer room and now the summoning happened at areas that resembled the old labyrinths.

Ebrietas still didn't had any visitors, but those people summoning her certainly made her feel less lonely. More and more she got the impression that they were searching for her. Ebrietas helped them by projecting the image of her room into their mind whenever she got summoned.

Then, one day Ebrietas got the first visitors since an eternity.

There they were, the robed and blindfolded figures she had seen every time she had gotten summoned. They stood in front of her, a group of six or seven humans, with one of them standing slightly in front of the others. Ebrietas simply watched them, awaiting their next move. She could see how one of the people in the back row lifted their cap and got a nudge from the person next to them.

Eventually the person in front stopped forwards and bowed in front of Ebrietas: “Child of the Cosmos, we have searched for you ever since we first have made contact.”

From the voice and the build of the person, this probably was a woman. Ebrietas remembered that much about humans. The woman in front of her raised her head and despite the cap that blinded her, looked directly at Ebrietas. “We call ourselves the choir.”, she made a sweeping gesture at the people behind her. “A group of the Healing Church, an institute of blood healing. It is our task to make contact with the Great Ones and help humanity ascend. Child of the Cosmos, we came here to ask for your assistance in our task.”

The woman stepped backwards and then her and all of the other people made a certain gesture, one that Ebrietas knew too well. One arm was raised towards the heaven, another arm was spread from the body. It was a gesture that showed any Great One that they sought to make contact with them, a gesture that showed that they didn't mean any harm. Ebrietas lowly rumbled in delight, stopping when a few of the members broke the gesture and grasped at their heads instead.

“Ah, it appears your voice is hard to bear for some of our members.”, the woman said. “Child of the Cosmos, we will need some time to get used to your presence and their voice. We promise, we will come back.”

The woman looked at the members of her group and then back at Ebrietas. “Also to learn your name... My name is Yuria, current leader of the choir. We will look forward to see you again, Child of the Cosmos.”

Once the choir was done, Ebrietas remembered a gesture that humans would make to say goodbye to each other and lifted one of her tentacles to wave, far too late of course. She was a bit sad that her voice hadn't reached them, but she was confident that it wouldn't take them long. The group that called themselves the choir seemed to have taken all the measurements they needed to contact a Great One like Ebrietas.

They came back. Not the next day, but a few days later. They always greeted her with proper respect and then tried to contact her, though that still proved to be difficult. It seemed they needed a little more time.

Ebrietas started to look forward to their little visits. At first they only came every few days, but slowly their visits got more frequent until they were visiting her every other day. Sometimes they simply would sit there and talk to her, telling her about what had happened in the surface world. Apparently while she had been left behind in the sealed catacombs, a city had been build above them, called Yharnam. In Yharnam there was a faction called the Healing Church and the Choir was a part of it. They had mentioned this at their first meeting, but now got into much greater detail. They had searched for a living Great One, because they only had found dead ones so far. Ebrietas knew why, all the living Great Ones had ascended into the dream. She would be able to tell them once they were able to hear her voice.

However, as long as it wasn't possible, Ebrietas simply listened. She enjoyed it vividly when they talked to her and sometimes they even sang to her. They called themselves the choir after all.

It must have taken several weeks before they managed to hear Ebrietas voice. For Ebrietas the time that had passed felt like the blink of an eye, but she knew it was different for humans. They aged with time and one day time would be running out for them. She could see it in them, they were wary and exhausted, but once she managed to talk to them for the first time, all exhaustion fell off them and they were all over her, asking her all kind of questions.

The first one was her name. Ebrietas gladly told it to them, happy that once again someone would address her with a name that had been given to her by humans. Of course she possessed a true name, but it was impossible for humans to pronounce. A Great One would say their true name only ever to another Great One.

Life continued for Ebrietas like this for a while until the choir had a proposal for her.

They offered her to come with them and live in the church they served. All they asked in return was that Ebrietas shared her blood with them.

There wasn't any reason for Ebrietas to continue living in the labyrinths anymore, so she gladly accepted and found herself in a room that had been only made for her. It was similar to the cave she had been in, because she was used to it. She had wanted for the room to resemble the place she had spent such a long time in.

The choir did their best to serve Ebrietas and fulfil any wishes she had, the only wish they couldn't fulfil was letting her see the outside of the town. It had been such a long time since Great Ones had been worshipped, that the citizens forgot and only slowly should get reintroduced to the concept. Ebrietas didn't mind too much however, the choir would tell her all the tales she wanted to know and when she got summoned she could see through their eyes.

The choir wasn't the only one that visited her anymore. They also brought a man to meet her who they introduced as the vicar and who apparently was the founder of the Healing Church, having utilized the blood of Great Ones to heal people's ailments and to make them stronger. He often came into her room to talk to her, but she refrained from talking to him, he seemed to very susceptible to contract a Frenzy, so she stayed quiet, only communicating with him when a member of the choir was present to translate for her.

This life continued what must have been several decades for humans, because the members of the choir that started out talking to her began to grey and wrinkle and some of them got replaced. The vicar also one day didn't come anymore and they introduced a new vicar to her.

Regardless how the humans around her changed, for Ebrietas nothing changed. She continued to give them her blood and got company and songs and tales in return. She didn't see any reason to change anything.

One night however, something was different. One night nobody visited Ebrietas anymore. She could hear the sounds from above, from the city, sounds that she remembered from a time very long ago. Sounds of beasts that roamed the streets.

Ebrietas was in her room, waiting in front of an altar, an altar which housed the body of another Great One, one that hadn't managed to survive. The choir had tried to revive them to no avail. Ebrietas felt a connection to the body, hoping that at least their mind had managed to ascend into the dream.

It was during that time that someone entered her chamber. From the sound of the foot steps she knew that it was nobody of the choir. It also wasn't the current vicar.

As the person came nearer, Ebrietas glanced at them. The person that had entered her chamber, she recognized as a Hunter.

She didn't had any interest in fighting, but if the Hunter would decide to hunt her, Ebrietas would defend her life.

The Hunter just stood there and stared at her while Ebrietas waited for them if they would raise their weapon.

After a while, the Hunter left again. Whatever they wanted, they didn't want to harm her. Ebrietas turned around to the altar and continued to be lost in thoughts.

The Hunt was going on long that night...

[demons-fanatic]

Lady Maria; Saint Maria?

The companion to my yesterday post about Gehrman. Maria is an interesting character as she is one with a very short backstory but with other parts, it can be assumed the rest of her story. All we know of her backstory is that she was a hunter of Gehrman’s, She took part of the Hamlet massacre and took part of the research hall and tried to atone for her sins. Though, in the end she committed suicide and now guards the secret of Yharnam; The Fishing Hamlet of Kos.

The origins of Maria are...confusing. She is a distant relative to Annalise, Queen of Cainhurst. People from Cainhurst have British accents, but Maria has an Ukrainian accent. Now, the answer to this is easy. She’s just a descendant of Cainhurst, though why she is in Yharnam is anyone’s guess. My guess is she just happened upon Yharnam later in life, or something in her called Maria to Yharnam. The Queen has magic of some kind, she can always beckon someone if she wants.

Gehrman and Maria is an interesting plot point. They were teacher and student. However, it seems her, Gerhman and Laurence were friends. In her boss room, beside of her is a picture:

Now, the person in the middle is obviously Maria. But, there are two people beside her. A man in a hunter’s hat and a man with brown hair. The brown-haired man looks like he’s wearing Byrgenwerth’s clothing. The Other man looks like he could be wearing Gehrman’s attire. And, it is Gehrman. How do we know this? Well, this photo is taken from the mantle in the Hunter’s Dream:

Can you see it? Well, look at the fireplace. The pictures are aligned but there’s a sudden gap. The picture Maria has would fit that gap. Gehrman is the creator of the Hunter’s Workshop. So, it’d make sense it’d have his pictures. The third man is presumably Laurence. They all had contact with Byrgenwerth, they might’ve even been students. (All three, Laurence is a confirmed student.) Not to mention Gehrman calls for Laurence in the dream. Regardless, they are probably friends. How does this play in? I’ll explain later.

At some point, Byrgenwerth either hires Gehrman and his hunters or if apart of Byrgenwerth, sends them to a Fishing Hamlet in the coast of Yharnam. The reason is there is a Great One there, a pregnant one at that. Whether they knew this or not is unknown, but if they didn’t know, they were extremely lucky. What happened at the Hamlet can only be described as sickening. Many people were murdered and their bodies left headless and hanging. How much murder Maria did has never been explained; But the fact after this encounter she was so disgusted she threw away her weapon says everything. After Kos was pillaged, her unborn child was stolen and taken to Byrgenwerth for its three-third cord. 

After this, Laurence left Byrgenwerth for Yharnam and founded the Healing Church. Essentially, a hospital that secretly experiments on Yharnam’s citizens in order gain research to ascend. Gehrman founded the Hunter faction in Yharnam by creating the Hunter’s Workshop. At this time, the timeline gets confusing. It’s presumed during this time, Maria is considered the caretaker of the patients in the Research Hall, though she could only provide them with comfort. She seemed to be close with a patient named Adeline, advising her not to become a Blood Saint, but when she did, Maria gave her the key to the Balcony. So, Maria did nothing to stop these experiments. She could have done something, if she was so close to Gehrman or Laurence, who is the head of the church. Though, she did at least comfort them. They talk about becoming birds or other things. They talk about her in a happy light, as if she made them feel comfortable. Regardless, after some time, Maria committed suicide. Leaving the patients to their own devices and abandoning them. Though, it could have just been due to an overwhelming atmosphere, all of the pain and suffering caused her to take her own life. Now, due to the curse of Kos, she sits there in the Hunter’s Nightmare, dead, until the Hunter tries to seek the secrets of Yharnam. In the dream, she has her Rakuyo, which proves that the Nightmare is forcing her to take on a previous form. I doubt in the real world she died wearing her Hunter outfit and the weapon she discarded.

After she is killed in the Nightmare, the Doll notes: “Good hunter. This may sound strange, but... Have I somehow changed? Moments ago, from some place, perhaps deep within, I sensed a liberation from heavy shackles.“ meaning Maria was in some part deeply tied to the Doll’s consciousness. Why this happened is unknown. The Doll is based upon Maria, but Maria presumably never met the Doll. It’s inferred Maria died before the Doll was made, then Gehrman made the Doll and then played with it a lot. Possibly in some kind of twisted roleplay. The Doll also has Maria’s voice and comforting nature. Though, this could all be Gehrman’s memories imprinted into the Doll once the Hunter’s Dream was conceived or maybe not. The Doll does still twitch in the waking world, implying, possibly, the affection it was given was so strong it surpassed its inanimate nature and maybe sprung to life, ever so slightly. But, it’s only assumed! Nothing there is fact. But why the Doll is literally affected when Maria dies is unknown. It could be because Maria is buried in the Hunter’s Workshop. Which, she is. The Hunter’s Bone is Maria’s Bone. There is actually a mishap in translation for that item description. It refers to a “he” when in Japanese it is actually “she”. Japanese has no gender, and sometimes without details, translators will default to he. This is why Gwyndolin in Dark Souls is a he and not “they” which Gwyndolin should really be. So, yes that could be why. But again, it’s never explained.

Maria and Gehrman’s relationship is often a point of contention. But to make a long story short: Word for Mania is actually enthusiasm. And who wouldn’t be enthusiastic about a Ukranian, Vampiric, Blood Manipulator? Regardless, many people see it as sexual or predatory, but that is not really that case. Yes, he did do some really weird things, but honestly his coping skills seem to just be really bad. Regardless, that’s that.

If you made it this far, thanks! I appreciate it. If you liked it, feel free to share and let me know if you did or did not agree. Either is ok with me, and if you have extra feelings, feel free to let me know too ^^!! Thanks

[evilmuffinlord]

From Cainhurst, with Love

Reposting here, because I originally put it on the wrong blog.

A bit of a departure from my usual fluff, but I hope people enjoy it nonetheless. Just be aware that this is not a happy story.

When Mina receives a mysterious summons to a far off castle, she feels compelled to follow it. What she finds at the destination will change her life entirely.

Available to read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760283

and on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712856/1/From-Cainhurst-with-Love

Teaser below cut

Mina shivered as she made her way down the dilapidated stone pathway of Hemwick lane. Her breath came out in white puffs, and even the high collar of her hunting attire did little to mitigate the chill wind that blew along her path.

She had been following the winding, half-destroyed lane for several hours now, passing from the massive stone and wrought iron architecture of Yharnam’s Cathedral Ward into the dark and gloomy woods that lay beyond it.

Those woods had contained creatures that Mina had never before encountered, and dearly wished that she would never see again. Shadowy figures that arose from the ground in a glow of witchlight and stalked her through the trees with shrieks that tore at her ears and mind both. The spike-covered wolves and blood-starved men that lurked among its bows as well were tame by comparison. She had at least dealt with their ilk before.

Beyond that, she had encountered the mad hags of Hemwick, dancing around their fires as they cackled and chanted. The words, if they even were words at all, were entirely foreign to Mina, but their meaning danced on the edge of her consciousness, as though if she were to just entertain them for a while longer, she would understand what these women found so amusing.

Twin dollops of wax had done much to mitigate their voices, though they had not eliminated them entirely. Nor had they stopped the hags from throwing Molotov cocktails at Mina as she fought her way to her destination.

Hemwick crossing was as dilapidated and overgrown as the rest of the Lane. Its cobblestones were cracked and broken, and large patches of grass had sprouted from the missing sections. Even the large stone monolith near the center of the crossing was being slowly consumed by creeping vines. The edges of the path were flanked by small groups of crumbling gravestones, their lettering far too faded to make out in any sort of detail, and tall wooden spikes, each with a dangling corpse impaled on them, a mockery of the few leafless and desiccated trees that clung to the soil.

It was also heavily guarded, with two of the massive, hooded executioners patrolling the road itself and numerous spiked dogs lurking in the long grass on either side of the road. Their yips and growls almost blended into the background noise of the crossing, but not quite.

Unconsciously, she adjusted her grip on the threaded cane that she carried. She had received it shortly after arriving in Yharnam, and it had been her constant companion since then. It had torn through more men and beasts than she could count at this point, and would likely tear through many more before the hunt was over.

Setting her teeth, Mina began to pad toward the nearest executioner. No matter what the odds, she would not falter, and she would not yield. She was going to survive this night and return home.

She had made a promise, after all.

—

Mina let out a sigh as she leaned heavily against the massive stone monolith at the center of the crossing. Her legs were covered with wounds where the hounds had torn into them, and her arm throbbed where she had been burned by a surprise Molotov thrown by a hag that she had missed in the confusion of the melee, but she had managed to defeat all of the enemies that had been lurking around the crossing.

Quickly, she reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a blood syringe, jamming it into her thigh. The rush of relief as the blood entered her veins and began to knit her flesh back together was incredible, as always. Her fatigue lessened, her vision sharpened and revealed a host of colors she had never even noticed before. Even her sense of smell seemed to increase in intensity, letting her smell every drop of spilled blood around her.

Her breathing sped up as she tried to contain the surge of energy. A deep, primal part of her wanted to run wild, to dash up the hill in front of her and lay waste to anything and everything in her path. It wanted to run, to fight, to hunt.

Before the feelings could overtake her, Mina raised a hand to her mouth, closed her eyes, and bit down viciously on the base of her thumb. Her teeth, sharper than she remembered them being, pierced the leather of her gloves and bit into the flesh beneath. The pain was good; it let her focus, it grounded her in a way that few things did at this point.

Slowly, far too slowly, her breathing slowed and she stopped feeling quite so wound up. The twitching in her limbs stilled, and her vision returned to normal, the strange colors fading into memory, and the pools of blood near her feet stopped seeming quite so inviting. She still wasn’t quite back to normal though. For that, she needed something to ground her, to remind her why she was there.

Discarding the empty blood vial, Mina reached into her belt pouch once again and pulled out a weathered envelope made of thick, yellowed parchment. One corner was stained heavily with blood, and the ink on the front was incredibly faded, but the words “Summons to Castle Cainhurst” could still be made out. The letter that the envelope contained had been much easier to read, though a part of Mina wondered if she wouldn’t have been happier not having encountered it in the first place.

Somehow, the letter, which looked like something her grandmother would have sent, had been addressed specifically to her and had requested that she make her way to Hemwick Crossing quickly to make her carriage.

She glanced around the empty crossing. There wasn’t a single carriage in sight, or even signs that there had been one passing through the area in the last decade. She wasn’t even sure how a carriage would reach the area. She had traversed most of the path, and it was certainly not carriage worthy. The only part that she hadn’t explored led towards the crumbling bridge overlooking the lake ahead of her…

The sound of clopping hooves and creaking wood caused Mina’s head to snap up, and her eyes boggled at what she saw.

From the lake, a massive bank of fog had emerged, so thick that she could cut it with a knife. From that bank, a pair of wizened-looking horses appeared, pulling an ornate carriage behind them. They trotted down the path without a care in the world, coming to a stop directly in front of her, as though this were all perfectly routine and they hadn’t just appeared out of thin air.

The horses themselves were like nothing she had ever seen before, great black beasts with manes that flowed down their necks and along their backs, stirring in a nonexistent breeze as the pair stood stock still, not even seeming to breath. The sockets where their eyes should be were shadowed and empty, dark mockeries of the life that should have brimmed there.

The carriage, too, was in quite a state. Its paint was chipped and faded, and the metal fixtures were corroded and dripping with rust, as if they had weathered countless storms. Four storm lanterns hung at the corners of the carriage, illuminating it even in the creeping fog that seemed to be following the carriage. The light also allowed Mina to see the empty seat where the carriage drive should be sitting.

Before she could do more than stare, the door to the carriage began to open, creaking all the while. As it did, Mina craned her neck to peer around it, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was inside the carriage. Instead, she was greeted by an empty compartment filled with yet more fog, which poured out and pooled around her feet. A few stray tendrils curled up and about her boots, probing delicately at her. Their touch was icy cold and surprisingly solid, and Mina instinctively kicked at the tendrils, forcing them back.

The fog retreated slightly, but did not entirely dissipate. It continued to flow out of the carriage, pooling on the ground without merging into the bank of fog that was still lurking behind the carriage, obscuring the way that it had come from.

Mina waited for something else to happen, for some sign indicating whether or not this was a trap designed to murder her in some horrible way, but nothing came. She could see no sign of lurking monsters or hunters, couldn’t smell anything other than wood polish and old leather coming from the compartment, couldn’t sense anything other than a simple, creepy carriage waiting to take her to her destination.

Cautiously, she placed a single foot on the step up to the carriage, testing her weight on it, her cane gripped tightly in her right hand and her entire body tense. The metal creaked ominously, but it held her weight without breaking.

“This is a bad idea,” she murmured as she stepped up into the carriage.

The moment she was inside, the door creaked shut behind her, and the carriage jerked forward. Mina toppled backwards into one of the seats in surprise, nearly impaling herself on her cane as she did so. Thankfully, after the initial jerk, the ride was relatively smooth and she was able to arrange herself rather comfortably. It helped that the seats were relatively comfortable, despite their age.

She tried the carriage door, out of curiosity, but found it sealed shut, unyielding no matter how hard she shoved or kicked it.

The attempt to break out left her feeling unusually tired. Maybe there was something in the fog that even now pooled around the floor of the carriage, or maybe it was just finally being able to sit down on something relatively comfortable without having to be worried about someone slitting her throat while her guard was down. Either way, by her third attempt at opening the door, she could barely keep her eyes open.

Her energy spent, she fell back against the seats and quickly drifted off to sleep while the carriage trundled on through the mists towards Castle Cainhurst.

Read the rest on Ao3 or FF.net! Links available on my blog if they break here.

[boredofcinder]

@murile​

The Church Hunters didn’t know what to do with Lothric when they found him huddled over his brother’s body on the lakeshore.  He wasn’t from Yharnam, and he was just coherent enough to tell them as much.  He and his brother were just passing through, passengers on an unlucky boat sailing to another destination.  He has no possessions, nowhere to stay, and can’t walk.  The Hunters ended up deciding to take him to their workshop, so he’d at least have a place to spend the night out of the cold.  They’d find a more permanent solution in the morning, they said.  He barely even nodded. 

The Hunters couldn’t get him to eat or drink anything.  They left to get blankets and left him next to a large doll one of their elders had made, in case he’d find that comforting.  They found him sound asleep and leaning against the doll by the time they got back.  When it was time for them to return to their homes and families, they made sure he had food and water in easy reach.  There wasn’t much more they could do.

That night, Lothric has a dream.

He’s within view of a lakeshore, much like the shore by Byrgenwerth but different.  Stranger.  The sun is high in the sky, covered by a dark stain.  And Lorian is only a few feet away, crawling steadily away from the lake.  He looks dazed.  He’s always so confident.  Whatever grief he’s wrestling with must be bad.  His long hair is a tangled, stringy mess of knots.  He takes a lot of pride in his appearance, his hair especially.  He must be miserable.  But he doesn’t even seem to notice.  His wounds seem to have healed, but his clothes are still thoroughly ripped.  He looks awful.  Lothric cries out and covers the distance between them as quickly as he can.  He tries to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but it only passes through.  

"That is a true vision of what your brother is doing now,” a voice says.  The doll from the workshop is suddenly standing next to Lothric, towering over him.  “He is not truly dead - any killed in that place never are.  But you cannot reach him.  You are not truly beside him, only dreaming.  You are still tethered to the waking world.”  

“Who are you?” Lothric asks, suspicious but mostly grief-stricken.  

“A friend,” the doll replies.  “If you wish to be reunited with your brother, you must first enter a Dream.”  The scenery changes abruptly.  They’re back in the Hunter’s workshop, and Lothric is exactly where he fell asleep.  It’s night outside, and the workshop is dark, with a little moonlight filtering through the windows.  For a moment, he can’t tell if he’s still dreaming or if he woke up.  Then a bright light turns on abruptly in a glass-plated cabinet full of jars and samples.  “There is a vial of blood in this cabinet,” the doll explains.  The scenery changes again.  They’re in front of the cabinet.  This time, only a single vial is glowing.  Its contents are ruby red and murky.  “With this Dreamer’s blood running through your veins,” the doll explains, “you will be able to reach your brother.”

“H-how do you know my brother?” Lothric asks.  “How can I trust you?”

But instead of receiving an answer, he wakes up. 

He resists the urge to drag a chair to the cabinet and inject himself with strange blood.  He doesn’t know what happened, but he doesn’t trust it.  Lorian wouldn’t want him to put his life at risk just for a chance to see him.  And Lorian is definitely dead, not trapped in some Dream dimension!  He managed to kill the beast that attacked them and died in Lothric’s arms.  The dream must have been no more than a grief-driven fantasy.  How dare the doll character in the dream deny that reality!

Lothric resists the urge for hours.  Then he drags a chair to the cabinet and climbs up.  Not to do anything foolish, just to see if the vial from his dream is really there.

His life has been largely shaped by fear.  He can’t remember ever being as afraid as when he holds an identical vial to the one he saw in the dream and reads a label by moonlight that doesn’t make sense to him, and clearly didn’t make sense to the Hunter who captured the blood sample either:

‘Moon Presence’ (???)

If the vial is real, who’s to say the vision of Lorian isn’t?

By the time streaks of daylight are fading into the sky outside, it’s clear to Lothric that if he puts this vial back on the shelf, he will be accepting his brother’s death as permanent and will lose what slim chance he has to see him again.  The Hunters will come back.  He won’t have another chance to use the blood, and that will be the end of it.  There’s a clean-looking syringe and needle on another shelf.  He closes his eyes and promises himself and Lorian that he won’t reach for it.  

He reaches for it.  He can’t imagine what life would look like without Lorian.  The Hunters could arrive at any time, so help will be here soon enough if he has a bad reaction.

After injecting himself with some of the strange blood, he feels pins and needles in his arm, then...nothing.  He slowly puts everything back in the cabinet.  Tears well in his eyes.  What did he just do?  What was he supposed to do next?  Why did he think this was a good idea?  There was never a way to see Lorian, and he knew that full well.  He returns the chair and slowly crawls back to his pile of blankets, quite sore from moving so much.

Lothric’s decision to hide the evidence after assuming defeat was as useful as it was predictable.  He never makes it back to the doll.  Abruptly, the scenery changes, like it did in the dream.  But it isn’t a dream this time.  Lothric finds himself floating in midair in an expanse of soft clouds and dark pillars.  The moon shines brightly overhead, and a dark red being is slowly descending from the sky in front of it.  She’s somehow the worst and most beautiful thing Lothric has ever seen.  His mouth falls open slightly as she crowds away his every other thought.  Finally, two impressions alone remain in his perception: a deeply content sense of wonder, and the sight of her.  She reaches out and takes him in her hands, and he’s in too deep of a trance to resist or even seem to notice.  He doesn’t remember the rest.

[thewildthewarlikeandthewoebegone]

Hospitality

Part 3 ____________________

The encounter at the mansion was distressing, but there's not much that can be done about it.  Jason tells Eileen, Alfred, and the chapel dweller to watch out for a teenager who fits Sebastian's description (and to keep their distance if he's armed).  He considers returning to the house to ask Sebastian's mother for any updates, but it's not an encounter he can really bring himself to set up.  Disturbingly enough, Eileen, Alfred, and the chapel dweller all seem fairly  nonplussed about the situation; this is the kind of thing that happens in Yharnam.  The attitude gets Jason thinking about the identities of the angry hordes in the streets... fathers, mothers, neighbors.  What's the proper balance between ruminating on gravitas and killing beasts anyway?  This fancy title of Hunter is not without its responsibilities. 

And the night goes on.

Jason's about ready to just try and forget the whole thing, when something happens which he never would have expected: he has a visitor in the Hunter's Dream.

Jason likes to take naps behind the Caryll Rune altar; or, he’ll lie down and daydream for a bit, anyways.  It's hard to really sleep, when he’s already in a dream.  He's not sure how Hunters usually organize their rest, with a body that doesn't need it and a mind that does.  But it works just fine for him, to lie down and stare at the ceiling for a good long time, a great long time, until he's ready to get back at it again.  

He's indulging in one of these pseudo-naps when he hears movement outside the workshop.  A person getting to their feet, then staggering around a little, breathing heavily.  His first thought is that Hunters’ helper Gehrman or the Plain Doll is in trouble somehow. 

Gehrman is very blunt, and doesn't have a lot of patience for explaining misunderstandings.  On top of that, he has just the sharpest memory and keenest sense of humor where Jason’s blunders are concerned.  But he still answers questions and offers advice, and he still accepts it as his solemn duty to be of service to new Hunters.  There’s a limit to how much of Gehrman Jason can tolerate before he needs a break, but the man is by no means an enemy. He’s even been known to toss compliments around on occasion.  

The Plain Doll is almost Gehrman’s opposite.  She doesn't have much advice to give, but she loves with her whole heart, loves the deserving and undeserving alike.  She’s one of the best conversation partners Jason has ever found, compassionate and curious, quick to build up and slow to tear down.  Jason cares about her, worries about her, and feels a bit protective of her.  

Hearing a denizen of the Dream in distress, Jason gets up and goes out to see who needs help, and what he can do.  

It’s neither Gehrman nor the Doll.  Jason soon finds himself face to face with Sebastian.

"Goodness fuck," he blurts out, involuntarily gripping his cleaver more tightly. 

Sebastian only looks at him, with all the pain of being seventeen years old and having just gone through a worst experience to date.

"Are you alright?" Jason asks next.  Cautiously.  Sebastian doesn't appear to have a weapon this time, but Jason knows the Messengers were quick to set him up with one when he first found the Dream, and he keeps his guard up.

"I don't... I don't know," Sebastian says, looking around, holding his neck.  "I..."  

"Oh, you... you died!" Jason exclaims in realization.  Sebastian shoots him a wounded glare, and Jason sobers up.  "I'm sorry!" he says.  "But you did die, didn't you?  It's not permanent for Hunters.  If that's what you are now.  You can go back to Yharnam.  This isn't the afterlife.  As far as I'm aware, anyways."

This reassurance finally seems to get through.  Jason has Sebastian's full attention now.  

"Hunters can come back...right?" he asks, still holding his neck but not quite as urgently anymore.  "I've truly become a Hunter?  I did it?"

"Well, I don't know what you did," Jason says.  "But this is the Hunters' workshop, and it's where I went first, when I died the first time.  So I'd imagine you were successful with whatever it was."

A shadow passes over Sebastian's face.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"For what?" Jason says, though in all honestly he has a hunch.

"My father was a blood minister," Sebastian says quietly.  His hand drops from his neck, and he takes deep breaths to calm down.  "I knew he'd done contracts for Hunters before, so I knew I’d find books with instructions how to.  I grew up learning how to refine and process blood -- I'm good at it.  I figured... if I could just get a Hunter's blood, I could figure out how to...  But I never wanted to...  And then you saved us, and... Uhh..."

"Oh," Jason says, thinking, genuinely curious.  He really has no idea how he got bound to this dream; Sebastian surely knows more about all of those details than he does.  He never would have thought of himself as a walking catalyst for Hunterdom, but it makes sense as he thinks about it.  That was how it started for him, wasn’t it?  A blood transfusion?  If his Hunter’s contract is based on blood, it isn’t a stretch to imagine he carries some extractable link to the Dream in his veins.  "So you wanted to leave home, but you wanted to make yourself a Hunter first," he muses.  “And you had the tools to do it, you just had to bag the poor fool.”

"My father was turning!" Sebastian says defensively.  "My mother kept acting like it was nothing!  Like he'd get better!  You don't GET better when you start to turn!  I had to get out, and it had to be tonight, but there were beasts all over the streets!"

Jason frowns, thinking.  He can guess all too easily what it might feel like, to be trapped in a house where your voice has no weight, watching a tragedy and an emergency unfold which you're completely powerless to stop.  If Sebastian had just flagged Jason down and asked him for directions to a safer place, Jason would have been happy to oblige.  If Sebastian had flagged Jason down and asked him to take out the threat, Jason could have done that as well.  Sebastian's solution, attacking a Hunter to become a Hunter so he could protect himself, is a bit extreme, but it particularly stands out as a solution that doesn't require asking anybody for help.  And Jason can hardly blame him, honestly; how was he supposed to know whether some random Hunter was prepared to help?  Angry people...unhelpful people... people...fucking hell... Jason definitely remembers cringing past an angry person who disapproved of him so he could just fight a werewolf already.  

"So stabbing me wasn't personal," Jason offers, with a pained little smile.

"No," Sebastian says miserably.  "It wasn't."

"When were you, uh, planning on stabbing me, originally?" Jason asks.  "Before your mom and then your dad came downstairs?  Out of curiosity."

"I was going to do it just after I opened the door," Sebastian says quietly, darkly.  “I wanted to so badly, I just... I didn’t have the nerve, and then...”

"Whoa," Jason says.

"It's not funny," Sebastian says.

"No," Jason says, "I'm impressed.  You needed to escape... and you were prepared to stab someone.  You were gonna fight a Hunter.  And in the end you really did work up the nerve!"

Sebastian seems suspicious he is being made fun of.

"I mean, that was never me," Jason says.  He feels there's room for some kind of heart-to-heart to happen, but he's supremely unaware of how to go about that effectively.  Of how to talk to a teenager, in general.  Are you supposed to just blurt it out?  Hey, I was raised to feel like a waste of skin!  That's me!  Rules of polite conversation seem to have forbidden many of Jason's life experiences from ever seeing light.  How can he tell this kid that, as a habitual doormat, it's inspiring to meet someone in a similar boat who already figured out how to fight?

"Yeah, bet you just chop all your problems to death and that's the end of it," Sebastian says gloomily.

"What!"

"You're the Hunter," Sebastian says.  "I'm just a coward.  I can't fix anything.  I ran away.  So you can stop making fun of me."

For all its concerning negativity, it's the kind of compliment that's too big to handle all at once.  The kind you've got to think about a while, to make sure it was even real.

"Sebastian!" Jason says.  "I guess I can chop a werewolf to death in less 'n five minutes, okay, but let me tell you, that's the ONLY thing I'm good at.  M-may your father rest in peace."  

"Fuck him," Sebastian says instantly.

"Or fuck him," Jason acknowledges quickly, without emotion.

A pause.

"I've run away from lots of things," Jason says.  "I run away from everything."

Sebastian doesn't argue, but doesn't seem convinced either.

"I'm only here because I was running away from things other places," Jason says.

"Like what," Sebastian says.

Edward.  Charlotte.  Jason's parents.  The unsafe job in the mine that his father excitedly encouraged him to get, after looking down on mining and miners throughout Jason's entire childhood.  The rude person at the stables Jason spoke to about possibly buying a horse, who sized him up and asked him if he was going to eat it.  The smooth-talker who offered a room at a good price but kept stealing Jason's things.  The people who only stared at him, when he asked them for directions as politely as he knew how.  The people who gave him wrong directions.  The man Jason never interacted with personally but observed dragging a dog along on a leash, yelling at it...

"I...I told you..." Jason says, shrugging.  "Everything."

"Not werewolves," Sebastian says.

"Yeah," Jason says.  "I guess.  Everything but werewolves.  But it sure helps that I can’t die."

Sebastian looks very unconvinced.  Jason sighs.

"I ran away from my family," Jason says.  "Things got bad.  I thought I could fix it.  And I tried.  But I didn't.  I couldn't.  All I could do was run away.  And it took me a lot longer to figure out I should do it than it took you."

Sebastian nods slowly; fine.  That's fair.

"I truly think you're doing alright," Jason says.  "I don't think we're so different."

Sebastian considers, but nods.  

They end up finding a lot to talk about, sitting on the steps of the garden path in the Hunter's Dream.  Jason, with his career of running away, has a lot to share about the world outside of Yharnam.  Once Sebastian really gets comfortable with the idea that he's being listened to, he takes on most of the talking, with animation and enthusiasm.  Which is a relief to Jason, because how do you even carry on a conversation.  Or talk to teenagers.  He tries asking Sebastian about blood ministration, but everything Sebastian says goes right over his head.  He says he’s really impressed by how much Sebastian knows about it.  Sebastian seems embarrassed, and gets Jason to shut up by complimenting his hunting again.  

By the time Gehrman discovers them, they've figured out that Sebastian doesn't have much interest in beast hunting but wants to travel.  His parents had always been quite disdainful of the outside world, but Jason's recent description of it offered a much friendlier, more livable picture.  Sebastian doesn't like the look of the Hunter's Dream at all (he says it feels sinister in ways he can't quite put his finger on, to which Gehrman nods wisely, to which Jason wonders if he should be worried about anything).  Sebastian does like the idea of remaining a Hunter for the rest of the night, though, to ensure his safety holing up somewhere in Yharnam.  Gehrman confirms that he knows of a way to reverse Sebastian's connection to the Dream, which he can perform once the sun rises (which, Jason's incredibly relieved to hear it confirmed that leaving is possible.  He'd been wondering about that, but had been too scared to ask).  

"I guess... I guess I should've just... asked for help in the first place instead of trying to do everything on my own," Sebastian tells Jason sheepishly, when Gehrman leaves.  "You all have been so nice to me... I guess I've just been living around jerks for so long I started to just figure maybe, maybe most people are jerks..."

"Pssshhh," Jason says.  "Lots of people are jerks, though.  It's so common for Hunters to turn out to be jerks that my friend Eileen’s whole job is to kill 'em if they start to go bad.  I think you were right to be cautious, I think you were right to come up with a plan in case you did have to do everything on your own...just, maybe next time it couldn't hurt to ask first, and then stab the bastard?"

That gets a laugh.  Oh, this kid has seen some shit, though.  They're going to send him on his way, and he's going to show a brave smile like he could conquer anything.  And maybe he can.  But the process won't be pleasant.  Because then he'll be on his own, and the weariness of the road will start devouring as much of his spirit as it can.  He'll try to make friends or fall in love with a wounded heart, and it probably won't come out pretty for anybody.  He'll figure out how to cut holes in his sense of what he wants and needs, to survive, and if he learns to decide to be happy with the meager existence he finds, he'll be doing quite well indeed.

But there really isn't much more to be said or done.  Jason shakes Sebastian’s hand, gets his brave smile, and watches him wink out by the gravestones.  

"Now, I'm sorry," Gehrman says.  He seems to have come back, now that the only witness has vanished.  "But did I hear you right when you said that scrap of a kid stabbed you?"  

It's a continuation of quite the pattern of jokes at Jason's expense.  Jason may have accidentally glued his cleaver to the workstation trying to figure out blood gems, and had to ask for help, okay.  But that was one time, and ever since then Gehrman has picked up a cheery habit of putting him down in the guise of friendliness.  It’s a crude hospitality, and Jason’s never liked it.

Jason turns to look at Gehrman.  Jason, who probably just chops up his problems.  The Hunter, who isn't scared of werewolves.  In mere hours, he could easily be back to worrying and scrambling over what people think, accepting the role of the fool and not really thinking about it.  But for the space of right now, the vision of a cooler, more capable Jason is fresh in his mind.  

"You're a fly in my ocean, you old shoe," he says, pointing at Gehrman.  

At first Gehrman looks utterly and completely startled.  Then he starts laughing, laughing and laughing, like his life depends on it.  Jason is pretty sure this is just a continuation of making fun of him, but he’s nevertheless unable to keep a straight face, and eventually just joins in.  Har har har.  Okay, sure.

The night won’t last forever.  Once the sun rises, he’s gone.

[The end]

[callsignbaphomet]

Hunter and Vileblood

Short sort of fluff-ish thing I just wrote with my OCs as hunters. Been a while since I wrote anything but wanted to take a break from the smut for something I guess cute. And I forgot how terrible and unoriginal I am with titles lol

The habit had become normal for many hunters. Go out into the night as soon as the sun settled, kill as many beasts as possible and those that survived returned to their homes. The following night most gathered at Arax’s home to swap tales of their heroic deeds and close calls while the listeners either laughed or gasped in horror. Some hunters had a reputation of being excellent storytellers, among them was Latoya who would entertain the masses with her vivid words and close attention to detail, her loud booming voice commanded the attention of all hunters within the hall as she acted out her tale of the hunt. Even the night itself would settle down when Latoya spoke. She stood on her chair as she held her trusted Bloodletter in her hands while every hunter laid their eyes on her.

“And there we were facing down that nightmarish creature, teeth bare and slick with saliva, claws and fur caked with its victims’ blood, eyes beady and ready to feast on two more hunters. It stood tall as it let out a roar! Stench of rot and blood made us gag but we stood equally tall and ready. It made a run for us and when it was close it drew back its arms and just as it swung them towards us Angelus shot it in the throat! Wasn't enough to kill it but it stun it long enough. I jumped into the air with my Bloodletter in hand, Angelus ran forward with his blood-covered Chikage. He cut through the beast’s belly! I slammed the Bloodletter right into its skull! That is how the Beast-possessed Soul ended at our feet!” Latoya exclaimed as she slammed her Bloodletter onto the table with a loud thud.

“A Beast-possessed Soul? I don't think I’ve ever seen one before.” Ginger said as she looked at Latoya in awe.

“Wasn't easy but when you have reliable partners alongside you even Great Ones will tremble in fear.” Latoya said as she looked to Angelus which caused everyone else to look toward him as well.

However, the comment, or better said, the entire story had fallen on deaf ears. Ever since Angelus had noticed that one lone hunter of hunters walk back outside he kept staring at him through the window and completely ignored most of what was said in the hall.

“McGrath?” Latoya teased as she stepped off the chair and smiled.

“Hmmm?” He turned his head towards Latoya though he kept his eyes on the hunter. “What is it?”

Latoya chuckled while walking over to Angelus and sat next to him as she looked towards where he was looking. “You know, if you really want to talk to him I think you should.”

“I don't wanna bother him.”

“Something tells me you wouldn't be bothering him.” Latoya reassured him as she looked out to see the hunter sitting out in the cold by himself. She felt slightly bad for him, apart from Ginger, he didn't seem to have any friends. She'd met his brother before he died but it seemed as if he never fully recovered from his death. Most of the time he kept to himself and barely spoke to anyone.

“If you ask me,” Cyrus spoke up from across the table, “You should stay away from him. He’s nothing but trouble.”

“No one asked you, Cyrus.” Ginger bitterly said as she stared down at the older church hunter.

“I’m with Cyrus, that boy is trouble.” Trevor said as he swallowed his second shot of whiskey.

“How would you even know he’s trouble? Neither of you have ever bothered to even talk to him.” Angelus retorted defensively as he glared at Cyrus and Trevor.

“Even if we understood half of what he said---”

“Oh, here we go! That charming Yharnamite attitude towards outsiders! Do you people even consider the fact that most hunters are foreigners? In fact, Cyrus, you and Trevor are the only damn Yharnamites here. Where are the rest of you? Huh?” Angelus said.

“It doesn't change the fact that Ingvarrsson is dangerous.” Trevor began as he tried to calm the hall down. “He’s reckless, acts without thinking, constantly putting himself at risk, he doesn't care about anyone, incapable of apologizing---he’s a passive-aggressive sociopath.”

“Borderline psychopath if you ask me. He doesn't feel any remorse and can't feel anything for anyone but himself. You should be careful, he might be using you.”

“How dare you assume anything of someone you don't even know! Shame on both of you!”

The hunters in the hall turned to where the familiar voice had come from. Standing at the end of the hall was Arax staring down at the two Yharnamites who had lowered their heads when Arax began to speak.

“You don't know anything about him. He’s been through a lot and has lost everyone so excuse him if he doesn’t appeal to your standard of charming. Jelani is as dependable and as skilled as any of you in here, maybe even more than most of you. So I would appreciate it if none of my hunters spoke ill of each other.”

With that Arax left leaving the hall in an uncomfortable silence as the hunters gathered in it looked around at each other. Most had lost some loved ones while some had lost everything, Jelani included, but it seemed like Arax defended him the most. Truth be told many hunters indulged in many self-destructive activities, becoming a hunter was merely the first step for many but there were rumors about Jelani, ugly rumors that most ignored yet still whispered to one another.

Latoya shook her head at Trevor, she expected better from a fellow Vileblood, especially when Jelani had come to defend Vileblood hunters from Executioners. She then turned to look at Angelus but the smaller Vileblood had left her side. She smiled as she looked at the front door and saw it close.

Angelus closed the door carefully as to not frighten the hunter sitting at the top of the steps though he remained still and quiet at the sound of the door closing. He crossed his arms and slightly shivered, the night was a little colder than he had expected but he still sat next to the hunter who still seemed unreactive to his presence. Both men remained quiet for a while as the hunter took in the sight of the old city. When it was quiet, free of beasts and mad men and back to a degree of sanity Yharnam was a beautiful place. The Vileblood kept his eyes on the hunter.

“It's cute how they think I can't hear them talking about me.” Jelani finally spoke up. “Never been called a passive-aggressive sociopath before. Hmm, been called worse.”

Angelus had no way of replying to that. He felt awful that Jelani was so isolated by most of the hunters. The only ones who'd even give him the time of day were Arax, Ginger, Latoya and him.

“I’m sorry about those guys.”

“Det går bra---I mean, it's all right. It's not like I need them to like me.”

“Aren't you cold out here?” Angelus asked in a low tone as he sat next to Jelani. He figured the hunter would push him away or move over since he sat so close to him but he was pleasantly surprised when the hunter sat still.

“Nei,” Jelani shook his head as he kept his eyes forward, “I’m used to the cold. It's a hell of a lot colder where I come from anyway.”

“Norway, right?”

“Ja. Og du?”

“America.” Angelus assumed Jelani had asked where he had come from so he answered. He took Jelani’s subtle nod as acknowledging his question.

“So...why join the Vilebloods?” Jelani asked as he turned to look at Angelus. He was certainly pleasing to be around and to look at as well so he made an effort to socialize with him as best as he could.

“Well, after I lost my grandparents I stayed with Arax for a while but then I took off. I don't know exactly what I looking for but one day I bumped into Latoya and she took me in. Been my mentor since then and I felt it was the right thing to do.”

“I like her, she’s nice and she doesn't take bullshit from anyone or anything.” Jelani said as he drew his left hand close to his face and that's when Angelus noticed the lit cigarette between his fingers. He also noticed the burn scars on his palm and even though he was curious he restrained himself from asking about them.

“I didn't know you smoked.”

“My brother used to smoke all the time, I get absolutely no pleasure out of it but it reminds me of him.”

“What happened to him?”

“We were in Old Yharnam trying to get back home. We took a different route to avoid that lunatic on the rooftop with the gatling gun. Everything seemed fine, we barely ran into any beasts and we were getting across rather quickly. He um...he went to this shortcut we’d taken a few times before but I just had a bad feeling about it. You know when your gut tells you not to do something?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn't budge he kept telling me that everything would be okay. I followed him into the building and right there in the middle was a giant beast. Same one that was down in the ruined church. Around the thing were dozens of beast patients, smaller but just as deadly. We turned around to leave but right behind us were some wolf beasts that had stalked us all the way to the building. From that exact moment it was just one bad idea after another. I locked us in the building after my brother mentioned we could cut our way through the mob and out the roof. Wasn't easy, we’d both gotten bit and clawed, we were bleeding all over ourselves and we were tired.”

Jelani exhaled a cloud of smoke through his nose and tossed the cigarette aside. After a brief moment of silence he continued.

“Once we reached the second floor one of those goddamned wolf beasts had broken through one of the windows and pinned Loke down. I managed to push it off of him and he hit it with a Molotov cocktail. We just stood there and watched the beast fall to the first floor and run around until it died. Thing is that as it ran about it brushed against the old furniture and drapes and everything caught fire. The fire did take out a few of the beasts but now we had to worry about them and the fire. So we kept running until we reached the last floor. Most of the windows were blocked but there was a small ladder that led to a hatch which we assumed led to the roof. Loke figured we could jump onto the roof of the other building and keep running. But…” Jelani’s voice shuddered as he lowered his head and dropped his shoulders.

“The hatch was locked and we couldn't break it or shoot it open. We saw an open window so we ran for it but there were still a bunch of beasts right on us and the fire finally caught up. I remember thinking that they’d follow us and I guess Loke thought the same thing. He told me to go out the window first but before I did he pulled me in, hugged me and told me that no matter what he was proud of me and that he loved me. Before I could even react he pushed me out of the window and by the time I gathered myself and looked up the fire was blocking the window. I ran back down to the street and tried to open the front door but the fire heated up the handles.” Jelani raised his left hand up with the palm out to show Angelus the burn scars and continued.

“I shot the door a few times and broke it open. I didn't care about the fire or the beasts or anything else. I just wanted to find him and get him out but Adam and Ginger were in the area and had seen the fire and ran to it, soon as they saw me trying to go back in they held me back. Tried to fight them off but they wouldn't let go, even after I told them my brother was in there they still wouldn't let go. Adam kept telling me Loke probably got out and like some naive fool I believed him. They dragged me back to Arax’s but as soon as the fire died down I ran back to look for him. There was no sign of Loke; I actually did believe he managed to get out in time and for a while I looked for him. I looked everywhere in Old Yharnam and all the nearby areas. After a few months of looking I stopped believing he made it out and then...well, I’m sure you've heard the rumors by now.”

“I’ll be honest; I tend to avoid rumors and gossip. They aren't exactly useful to me.” Angelus said as he looked directly at Jelani.

Jelani reached for another cigarette and held it between his fingers with his left hand. He held out his left arm and with his right hand pulled back his sleeve to reveal several scars across his wrist. For a moment Angelus stopped breathing as he looked at the scars and made sense of their specific placement. Once the realization of what the scars meant hit him he sighed as he closed his eyes but quickly looked back at Jelani with sympathetic eyes. He slowly reached out his hand and with the tip of his fingers gently brushed Jelani’s wrist as he leaned on his shoulder. Despite the irregularity of the surface he felt soft to the touch.

“I’m sorry.” Angelus whispered.

“Me too. When our parents died it did hurt but I still had my brother and I figured that as long as I had him everything would be okay. Then he died...worst of all was that the last thing Loke said to me was that he loved me and I didn't get to say it back.”

“He knows.”

Jelani nodded and sniffled as he reached into his pocket and took out his last match and last cigarette. He offered the cigarette to the Vileblood who eagerly took it after a shy and reserved thank you that made Jelani smile. The hunter then lit the match and his own cigarette but as he moved towards the Vileblood while covering the match it burned out.

“Faen…” Jelani cursed under his breath as he tossed the match behind him.

“That's okay.” Angelus reassured him as he turned to look to the door, “Maybe someone in there has some. I’ll be right---”

His sentence was cut short when Jelani grabbed him by the chin and pulled him towards him. While the cigarette was still in his mouth the hunter pressed the tip against the tip of the other cigarette to light it. With their faces so close the Vileblood quietly gasped but quickly let himself relax as he inhaled and let the smoke fill his lungs. The hunter chuckled as he pulled back and stood up while smiling at the Vileblood that was trying to hide his face so he wouldn't see him blushing.

“Uh...wait!” Angelus yelled out as he quickly stood up.

“Ja?” Jelani asked as he turned around to face him.

As soon as Angelus saw Jelani looking right at him and waiting for him to say what he wanted to say he looked sideways and began to fidget with his fingers as he usually did when he was nervous. He began to speak with a raspy whisper as he forced himself to say what he’d been dying to ask the hunter all day long. “Um, feel free to say no but maybe if you want we could team up for the next hunt. If it's okay with you, I mean---”

“Sure.”

“Great!” He flinched when he heard himself sound a little too excited and too loud and quickly dropped his shoulders while lowering his face as soon as he felt his cheeks warm up. He thought he must've sounded foolish as he blurted the response loudly and thought the hunter would either be annoyed or about to change his mind about teaming up with him. He was surprised to hear the hunter walking back up the steps. He was even more surprised when the hunter grabbed his hands, gently pulled the Vileblood towards him and kissed him on his right cheek.

“It's a date then.” Jelani said as he slightly bowed at the Vileblood while smiling. “Se deg rundt, Vileblood.”

[guided-by-the-blood]

Seth thought high of Invidia since he was a child. The woman didn't seemed to be too fond of children in general, however he had managed to gain more positive thoughts from her was a miracle to this day. Hs father though...he had lost the last bits of respect from his son many years ago. „Oh the good general sure knows more then you two do. One of the few who didn't simply shut their eyes on 'family matters' as you said so nicely. But it was always word against word.“ The man huffed lightly and shook his head over Ludwigs words. „Hiding? An open secret I would rather call it. Might just have slipped your line of sight? Or you went away in time before you saw it all unfold. Whatever it was was none of your concern for the time being. Most of it lies in the past by now,...though it never fails to haunt me even in these days. But nonetheless I wanted to serve the Queen just like my grandfather had done before, much different from my father's ways. A knight worthy of his title.“ It wouldn't make much of a difference in telling them anything about what had happened. Aside from their view on him maybe, but how bad could that turn out to be by now anyway? If there was something he was indeed hiding, then only what was well hidden in his hideout itself. A nasty pet peeve if you've liked to call it that. „The past couples years I did nothing else beside that. After I arrived in Yharnam I made an abandoned house my 'home'. Looked for shelter in the chapels. Even took part in some of your precious hunts. And as you can very well see tried to blend in with your men as well.“ He pulled on the white cloak he was wearing, chuckling lightly. This clothes had truly seen better days, but which  garb hadn't that by now? Aside the more fancy ones. „You didn't think I'm wearing these...excuses of clothing because I like them or want to? But you sure know what I speak of. Who would think of a vileblood being right among them this way? A thing you and Laurence must know far too well, correct me if I'm wrong. I wonder if there ever was any suspector among them? You both made sure to hide your ancestry in the best way possible.“ Along with his last sentence he pointed at his own teeth, remembering theirs being at least a little different from how they were now. „Hard to hide them when you speak. But to one with more...let's say 'freedom' as you and Laurence have in these matters it's nothing you need to be concerned about anymore. It nearly makes me envious...“

_______________________________________________________

As silent as it was right then it seemed to be a very promising and calm day. Lucille smiled as she took the very first down leading steps, not even noticing someone else was still there, right behind the entrance doors. Her sigh was turned to the steps to not by any chance fall oer her robe by accident. Something that indeed had happened before... Yet the light noises from downstairs made her hold and look up. Only now she saw the man a bit further downstairs, his back turned to her for now, yet the woman recognized the remarkable garb and it's embroiderie. Against those of other churchmen and even choir members the red and gold stood out so much more. It was by far the only she knew of with this unique colour pattern. All else where white, black and grey mostly with silber embroidery. Maybe a few pieces of blue, but never red or gold. Lucille was wondering how the vicar came to be here still. Ludwig and him had left the Grand Cathedral a while ago, or so she had thought. Maybe it was somethign urgent? Or something he had forgotten up here. The woman continued her way nonetheless. If she was to pass by him at least paying proper respect. The closer she came though he gave the look of being rather tense...rather...shaky if not even distressed according to his body speech. And even Ludwig was nowhere to be seen either, which was very uncommon. „Pardon for approaching you so suddenly sir...but is anything the matter?“

||Under Gloomy Dusksheets|| [closed RP]

[guided-by-the-blood]

☹ for Lucille!

Lamentation

Part III - LucilleThe choir woman rushed down the steps of the cathedral in a hurry and stopped only after reaching the gate at their bottom. Shortly leaning against it’s walls she panted slightly. Her gaze went down to the cap in her hands as she raised one of them to reach for a strain her hair. The once strong brown her hair always had had started to fade, leaving many of them colourless and almost white behind. Ashen…She stared at them for a moment before letting out a sad sigh and attempting to get her hair back under her cap. It was better if not even more saw her like this.She couldn’t really tell what was happening currently…

So much had changed around her out of a sudden. Whole Yharnam was filled with a tension that filled the air ever since the moon has risen in it’s complete form. Cries could be heard. Growls.Weepings echoed throught the streets alongside murmuring voices…It’s been a few weeks now that every now and then she had started to feel strange. Not very healthy but she wasn’t sick either, even though she felt like it.

Lucille’s first thoughts were about just having worked too long and too much. Pure exhaustion, as she tended to wander through the town very long every new day. Her duty was what had kept her awake so often.She really wished it would just have been this simple. Rather hasty the woman passed the chapel, only shortly greeting it’s residents, not staying too long, despite her common ritual to stay for a while and chat with them. She felt bad for not paying them the same attention as usual, but for now it really had to wait.

In memory she had kept what a good friend has been through. And the more she had thought about it, the clearer it got. It must be the scourge.Nothing else explained her symptoms so well. Different than his…yet similiar.

The choir woman’s steps were quick as she walked over the bridge. Clearly hearing sound behind her, she refused to look back and instead tried to reach the elevator that would bring her up. Activating the switch, the iron grid closed behind her, just in time to block an upcoming beast.In shock she stumbled back, pressign herself to the wooden wall, as it reached inside for her. Screeching and hissing it clinged to the door even as the construction went up.Hiding her face behind her hands she only heard a painful screaming from it and disgustfull sounds of breaking bones, until the elevator made a slight jump and she could hear something falling to the ground with a thud.The cries of the beast were still loud enough to be heard, it seemed to be in much pain… It took her a moment to find the courage to risk a look.A gasp escaped her at the sight of what had once been the beasts arm and was now lying right infron of her…Leaving the elevator as fast as she could she made her way up the stairs to finally reach her destination.

“Please be there…” Her voice sounded faint…as if she had catched a cold and nearly had no voice at all.The woman felt a prickle crawling up her fingers as she reached out for the door to knock on it. Her fingers went slightly numb, started to feel incredibly cold and the feeling increased the more she moved them. Lucille knocked still but pulled her hand back as a burning pain ran through it when she came in contact with the door. She was shaking all over her body, feeling the nervousness spread such as the cold. Silent weeps came from her as Lucille lowered her glance, wrapping her arms around her. Fear filled her heart as she leaned at the wall next to the door…Her weeps more and more becoming a mournful whining she had never hear before.“I beg you…open the door…”

[mrslittletall]

Prompt: Paralyzed by Fear

Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Laurence the first Vicar/Ludwig the Holy Blade Word Count: 1.596 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718291/chapters/61086664

Summary: On the way to Odeon Chapel, seeing the Amydgala triggers bad memories in Laurence.

(Author's note: Another piece that is set post Frenzy. A short explanation, even though it also is in the story: Laurence has faced an Amydgala, got grabbed, got a full frenzy bar and then was in a catatonic state for weeks.) Written for @badthingshappenbingo​​ The prompts marked with blood vials have already been filled out, the ones marked with madmen’s knowledge are planned. I am unsure about the unmarked prompts... but if nobody has to say anything, there is the danger that I make “Bloodstained Clothes” just about Laurence have a very untimely nosebleed, so uh, you have been warned.

“Are you sure that you want to go, Laurence?”, Ludwig asked, nothing but worry in his brown eyes as Laurence fixated his vicar robe and slung the holy shawl around his neck.

“Yes, I have been away for too long.”, he replied. “I can't leave the people who come praying in Odeon Chapel waiting forever. They deserve to see their vicar.”

“I am just worried about you.”, Ludwig said. “You haven't been out of the wheelchair for long and you still have to take sedatives. Speaking of, have you taken your dose?”

“Ludwig, now you start to sound like Florence.”, Laurence scoffed. “You are not my mom, you are my bodyguard. And my boyfriend, but we keep that to ourselves.” Laurence looked at Ludwig who hadn't reacted to his teasing at all, instead was clutching his Holy Moonlight Sword with both hands. So hard that his knuckles turned white. “Ludwig, relax.”, Laurence said. “I have taken my sedatives. We just need to go over to Odeon Chapel, get in there, hold a mass and then get out. We can do that.”

“...I never want to see you in such a state again...”, Ludwig said.

“You won't.”, Laurence casually spoke, hoping that Ludwig would finally relax. He actually was more freaked out than Laurence about the trip. “My frenzy happened when the creature grabbed me. I don't plan going so close to them ever again.” He shuddered a bit at the memory.

“I still can't see it.”, Ludwig said. “But it has to exist... because you can't just have gotten ill from nothing. Laurence, are you sure the creature has been sitting on Odeon Chapel ever since?”

“...Since the day I broke out of my Frenzy there wasn't a single day where I couldn't see it.”, Laurence said. “I want to believe it is a messenger of the Great Ones, like Ebrietas, but...” What the creature had shown him had been ugly and unnerving. Laurence couldn't actually remember it, but it had been enough to lock him into a catatonic state for weeks.

“But?”, Ludwig inquired.

“...I don't know.”, Laurence said. “Fact is, I got hurt by going near it, so I won't do this anymore. It's that simple.”

“If you say so.”, Ludwig said, not sounding completely convinced. “Just know, Laurence, that I will get you away as soon as you can't handle it anymore.”

“That's fine.”, Laurence said, brushing his hair, making sure that his curls were falling just right, “My doctor also said that I shouldn't force myself to face my trauma. I will be fine. I just need to go into Odeon Chapel, hold the mass and get out and nothing bad will happen.”

Expect, the last time Laurence had done exactly that, something bad had happened. Even though he had gone back to Odeon Chapel on his own regards alone and at night, how could he had been so stupid in hindsight, it definitely counted as something bad. He could have been lost forever if not for Florence finding a clinic where he could get treatment.

“I am ready.”, Laurence said, grabbing his threaded cane. From the outside it looked like a completely usual walking cane, but there was a sharp blade hidden in the inside. Even if Ludwig was by him and he already had his Holy Moonlight Sword resting over his shoulder, Laurence felt safer when he carried around a weapon on his own. “Let's go then.”

The walk from the Grand Cathedral to Odeon Chapel wasn't a long one. It was thirty minutes when you would hurry and one hour when you took your time. Ludwig had insisted that they would leave early, so Laurence wasn't walking fast. They would even have room to prepare the mass, should they need the a full hour to arrive. He didn't see any reason to walk faster.

On the way, him and Ludwig chatted about this and that, they didn't often had the time to talk so freely with each other, both being buried in their work (especially Laurence after having sick for far too long), so Laurence greatly enjoyed the walk, that turned out to rather uneventful. No protestors or leftover Vilebloods this time. It was perfect.

Though the nearer they managed to get to Odeon Chapel, the more nervous Laurence became and in conclusion, he was barely responding to what Ludwig was saying anymore. At one point Ludwig even nudged Laurence, a bit more violent than Laurence was used from him.

“Ow, what was that for?”, Laurence complained, rubbing his arm. It felt like it would bruise.

“Oh good, you are still there, Laurence.”, Ludwig said, visibly relieved. “I have told you again and again, when you stop speaking, that makes me really really nervous. Are you sure we should continue?”

“My apologies, I was... thinking.”, Laurence said. “I want to move on. Please, Ludwig, I need to be able to do this.” He couldn't avoid Odeon Chapel for the rest of his life. Laurence didn't plan to step down as the vicar yet.

“I want to trust you, Laurence.”, Ludwig said. “But it's hard. I never want to see you in that state again.”

“Believe me, I don't want to be in it either.”, Laurence said and clung to Ludwig's arm. Even though it was far from official that the two were a couple, Laurence felt safer with his boyfriend's warmth near.

Soon, Odeon Chapel came into view. , Laurence thought to himself. Just go straight into and get it over with. Don't. Look. Up.

Why Laurence decided to look up anyway he didn't know, it must have been some morbid curiosity. Of course the creature was still there, sitting there seemingly unmoving, but it was clearly breathing. Then, its eyes seemed to lock on him. All of them blinking at once.

Laurence froze and felt completely unable to take another step. He couldn't go any nearer. If he... if he would go into the creature's reach, it would grab him and... and...

…then his head would hurt and he would see pictures that he didn't want to see and he probably would piss himself in fear and shock and...

Ludwig was shouting something from far away, but Laurence couldn't hear it. He had to protect himself. He needed to make himself as small as possible, not thinking about anything or anyone, just don't let the creature see him. He couldn't even see anything outside of the creature, the rest of Yharnam seemed to have been swallowed by a pure dark.

“...rence. Laurence!”, Laurence opened his eyes and blinked slowly, seeing Ludwig's face over him, tears in his eyes.

“...Ludwig?”, Laurence said, half aware that he was laying on the ground.

“Oh, thank the Great Ones. You are back.”, Ludwig sniffled and hugged Laurence so tight that he had to gasp for air. Ludwig released the hug in an instant: “I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?!”

Laurence shakily shook his head, his head felt dizzy and something warm was running over his lips. As he licked over them, he noticed that it was blood. A nosebleed.

“What happened?”, Laurence asked.

“Once we came closer to Odeon Chapel, you stopped and were refusing to go any further. I wanted to ask you if we should return to the Grand Cathedral, when you started to violently shiver and sank onto your knees. I wanted to get you and drag you out of there, but you wouldn't move an inch, your whole body was locked up. I would have hurt you when I would have tried to force you to move.”, Ludwig explained. “Then you got a nosebleed and I got even more worried.”

“Huh, I don't remember any of this.”, Laurence said. The only thing he remember was how scared he had been.

“I thought that you maybe had a relapse, so I was holding you and calling your name over and over, until you... until you finally responded.”, Ludwig said, his voice quivering.

“I am sorry that I have worried you that much, Ludwig.”, Laurence said and sighed. “It seems I still don't manage to enter Odeon Chapel... We need to find another place for Central Yharnam to hold masses.”

“I guess I should tell Father Gascoigne that you can't come, but... I don't want to leave you alone, Laurence.”, Ludwig had his hands on Laurence' shoulders and Laurence very much would have preferred for them to stay there.

“I just get Florence to him once we are back. She also can discuss with him another chapel to hold masses. At least until I feel comfortable with Odeon Chapel again.”, Laurence got slowly on his feet, being supported by Ludwig, who gently guided him away from the chapel as he searched for a handkerchief to press against his bleeding nose.

As they went the way back they had been come, Laurence turned around one last time and confirmed that the creature in fact still was there.

“Amydgala...”, he murmured to himself.

“What?”, Ludwig said, hyper aware about everything Laurence had to say.

“The part of the brain that is responsible for fear...”, Laurence explained. Fear. The creature was responsible for fear. Like the amydgala in his brain. It was the perfect name for it.

Laurence just wished that it would have stayed the only Amydgala he would meet during his life. (Author's note: Laurence didn't pay much attention to the nosebleed, because he gets them all the time, he is very prone to them, especially under stress.)

[mrslittletall]

Prompt: Be Careful What You Wish For

Fandom: BloodborneCharacters: Gehrman the first Hunter, The Plain Doll, Retired Hunter Djura, Eileen the Crow Word Count: 2.106 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718291/chapters/56571127

Written for @badthingshappenbingo​ The blood vials are already filled out, the madmen’s knowledge are already planned. Every prompt that isn’t marked so far is still open and up for requests.  

Summary: Gehrman had just a simple, little wish, but he asked the wrong entity for help.

(Author's note: This is kind of a character study about Gehrman and the Hunter's Dream, mostly headcanon based because we don't know a lot lorewise about it. I hope you enjoy my take.)

He only had wanted to see Maria's smile again...

Gehrman's mind wandered, back to that fateful day. The day where Laurence and Micolash finally had figured out how to summon a Great One. The Moon Presence they called it, he remembered.

He had still been stricken with grief back then. Maria's death had been a few months prior and he hardly ever left his workshop, not wanting to face a reality without her and dreading to see Laurence, which once had been like a little brother to him, but now stepped back whenever Gehrman came too close. No wonder, after Gehrman had punched him in the face, practically blaming him for Maria's suicide, even though he knew it wasn't true, her depression had been lingering for a long while and he simply had failed to see it.

So when Gehrman managed to get out of the workshop, he simply listened in. He was used to staying in the shadows and that is when he heard about the plan of summoning a Great One and while he knew that Laurence surely wanted to summon it to get some answers, Gehrman's grief stricken mind whispered to him that this would be his chance. The Great Ones were said to be able to do things that were completely out of the understanding of the human mind. Surely... surely it would be able to give his love her life back.

So once the summoning began, Gehrman had stepped forwards and told the Great One his wish. “Just let me see Maria's smile.” again. The Great One had come close, awfully close. He still could feel the touches of her tentacles, yes, in the meantime he had learned it was a her, and the shocked expression on Laurence' face as he realized what Gehrman was doing.

The next thing Gehrman knew was that he was back in his workshop and in front of him, was Maria, who blinked at him and he pulled her into a hug, practically sobbing until he realized something strange.

She was cold. Her skin felt strangely smooth and... could he feel joints? However, the thing that spooked him the most was the voice coming from the thing. It was her voice and she spoke: “Good Hunter. How may I serve you today?”

Gehrman broke the hug and stared at the thing. That wasn't Maria. That... that was the doll he had build in her image. For some reason, she was able to move and talk, with the very voice that Maria had possessed, but that doll in front of him...

That wasn't Maria. That was just a doll. Gehrman dropped it in horror and ran, wanting to get outside of the workshop, back to Laurence. He had to apologize, what had he done? Only.. there wasn't a door anymore. In fact, there wasn't an outside world. Gehrman had to realize that the workshop had been transported into some kind of... another dimension? If only he had listened to Laurence' and Micolash's theories more clearly. The fact is, he was trapped. He was trapped in his workshop and his only company was the doll he created and that somehow had been given life.

Actually, that wasn't completely correct. The moon was shining constantly over the workshop and sometimes he could see the shape of the Moon Presence in it. Sometimes she would talk to him, not many words, either because his human mind couldn't take it or because she didn't know many words in the human language. The thing she told him didn't shed much light on his situation. Only that this place was called the Hunter's Dream and that he was the host of it. At first, Gehrman didn't knew what she meant. It was during the time he still spend his days trying to find a way out, praying (to whom? If Laurence had proved one thing, then that there were no gods) and hoping that Laurence would free him. Maybe even Willem. Surely after Gehrman disappeared, Laurence would have forgot about his little dispute with Willem and ran back to Byrgenwerth to get all the help to get Gehrman out of this place.

However, day after day passed and nothing happened. Gehrman's only company was the doll and he got so annoyed that she called him Good Hunter all the time, despite him not even being able to hunt anymore, that he one time screamed at her to stop it, he had a name. Since then, she only referred to him as Gehrman and even time he heard her say it with that voice, his heart broke a little.

Then, one day, Gehrman suddenly wasn't alone anymore. A young man appeared in the dream, shaking and confused, muttering: “But... I died. I have died...”

The young man turned out to be named Djura and was associated with a group named the powder kegs. He managed to tell Gehrman about the outside world. There was a blood moon hanging over Yharnam and Old Yharnam had faced the worst case of the beastly scourge any Hunter had ever seen. It not only had killed hundreds, it also meant that the Beastly Scourge had gone public and during this time the Vicar had locked himself in and refused to leave. That at least explained why Laurence wasn't coming for him, but Gehrman was confused.

It sounded like since the blood moon appeared only a few days had passed, but he could have sworn he had been in the dream for months. Was the passage of time convoluted? Or was he loosing his sense of time because it was always night in the Hunter's Dream?

Djura turned out to be different from Gehrman. He had a mark with him that he didn't recognize having before and could actually come and go into the dream as he pleased. It turned out, that he was literally tied to the dream, because should he die in the hunt, he would awake again, as if everything just had been a bad dream.

That still didn't answer Gehrman's question just why he was the host of the dream, but one day that question should be answered, when Djura came to him, with slow steps and his shoulders drooped.

“Gehrman, I can't do this anymore.”, he said.

“What are you talking about, Djura?”, Gehrman asked.

“Hunting. Dreaming. I... I can't... we are in the wrong. These poor people aren't he beast, we are the beasts. I beg of you, free me from this dream because I shall be a hunter no more.”

Even though Gehrman should have no clue how to actually free someone of the dream, he seemed to know. He told Djura to meet him at the meadow.

And there they met and Gehrman got up from his wheelchair in what felt like years, even though it only had been a week or so. Djura kneeled in front of Gehrman as he demanded and the Burial Blade beheaded him.

The next thing he knew was that the Doll was tending to a grave. Djura never came back to the Hunter's Dream ever again.

However, Djura didn't stay the only one who visited the Hunter's Dream. It became apparent to Gehrman just why this place was called the Hunter's Dream. The only people who visited it were Hunter's and each and every one of them possessed a Hunter's mark and they all had in common that they couldn't die. They called it dreaming. When they died, that had been a nightmare, that had never happened. They simply had seen a possibility where they died and learned from it to not make this mistake when it depended on it. Gehrman wasn't too sure about this. For him, it felt like they really had died, but their death had been undone. The only way they could die or rather, being freed from the dream, was through his hands.

Over the years, a lot of Hunters visited the dream. They came in and stayed for a while. They used the workshop or the doll. In the intended way, of course Gehrman sometimes caught the ones who thought to use it in a different way... He didn't care about whatever they did with her, that was just a doll anyway, even though Gehrman usually put it back together whenever a Hunter had found it funny to test a new weapon her. It gave his hands something to do and he wouldn't drift to sleep where the nightmares would await him...

The Hunters who visited the dream were many and not many of them stand out much to him besides Djura, the first Hunter who ever had visited the dream. Most of them came into the dream and fulfilled a task and then they felt they were done and asked him to be freed of the dream. None of them would get the hints he dropped into the workshop, the hints to try and find out just what he hunt is, none of them tried to stop the hunt for good. They just wanted to see the next sunrise again.

Over time more and more graves appeared in the Dream, graves to which the doll tended. Gehrman could barely remember the names of the Hunters. The ones he waited for never arrived. Neither Laurence nor Master Willem came for him. He started to lose more and more hope. Hope that Laurence was still trying to save him. Hope that any Hunter would be strong enough to free him.

There was one Hunter he had the feeling might have been able to do it. A Hunter with the name of Eileen, donning a crow mantle and the mask of a plague doctor, speaking with a foreign accent. She was strong, fierce and swift and she called herself a Hunter of Hunters. A Hunter who would search and dispose of those who had become blood drunk and insane.

Gehrman had high hopes that Eileen might have been able to free him, but one day she also came to him, just like Djura and told him that she wished to stop dreaming, so he fulfilled her wish and never saw her again.

Gehrman wasn't even sure what would happen if someone would kill him in the dream. Would it mean that he would be free or would he just die all alone? Would he get replaced by the one who took him down? He couldn't believe that he Moon Presence would let her precious little host leave that easily.

So, Gehrman waited. He waited many, many years, saw many, many Hunters come by. Over the years, his hair greyed out and his face got crinkled. He grew old. Over these years, his hopes dwindled that someone would ever come for him, even though sometimes he heard the doll talk to a Hunter and she told them that he spoke in his sleep. Was he still hoping for Laurence to come? When Gehrman was an old men, in a place where time seemed to be absent, how would Laurence look like? Would he even be still alive? And Master Willem, who had been already old when Gehrman had been a kid?

No, Gehrman was stuck and he more and more accepted his fate to be stuck here forever, though every time he laid eyes on the doll he got a harsh reminder that someone should be careful what they wished for, because it could make their lives only worse.

All he wanted was to see Maria's smile again, he never had asked for this. If Laurence would ever manage to find him, if his old friend even was still alive, he would warn him to not meddle with the beings known as the Great Ones. Humans were merely toys for them, something they could play with until they broke. He wished he had just stayed in Byrgenwerth, stayed the ground's keeper and that Laurence had listened to Master Willem about the Old Blood.

At this moment, it was a day like any other in the Hunter's Dream, only that a new arrival had appeared. Gehrman had hid himself away like usual and observed them, saw how they picked out the Sawblade as their weapon and stared at the doll with confusion.

When they came back to the Dream hour's later, Gehrman knew they had a successful hunt because they backed away when they saw the doll moving.

Gehrman wheeled himself back into the house and waited for the Hunter to come find him.

Maybe this was one would finally be able to free him from his own personal nightmare.