#even the abyss wasn't enough to prepare him for this moment

[archerdepartures116]

the one time zhongli brings his wallet

[mulligans-tavern]

https://www.tumblr.com/doomed-to-wanda/747617028751474688?source=share

Inspiration above

TW death, grief

---

Five Funerals

They lose Fig first.

Comes with the territory when you're an archdevil - somebody's always looking to take your spot. "Don't worry about it," she says, opening a Planeshift to the recording studio. "It's just the usual rebellious fiends. Icythorz and Bolhondrus and the rest. I'll be back before you know it." She looks resplendent in black leather, the Unfaithable Bass slung across her back, riding the fiery Daymare surrounded in jagged red shards.

Adaine knows before everyone else, but can't believe the vision to be true until she learns that Ayda is gone, too. She scratched every memory of Fig out of her notes before starting over - it was too much pain to bear. The five of them know how it feels.

---5---

It's a few years before they take another hit. Another mission to the Mountains of Chaos, another world-ending calamity to be stopped because Who Else Is Going To Save The World? A small misstep, a miscalculation (six where there should be five, they're only five now) and suddenly the routine becomes deadly.

Riz takes the fall. "It's easier this way," he says, in his last moments. "I'll still see you." And he does. Agent Gukgak Jr., now, with some extra responsibility. But he still comes by. Sometimes. Every so often. Often enough.

---4---

Kristen is next. Only one thing could bring down the most gifted cleric of the age - sacrificing herself for her friends. Third time's the charm when it comes to death, it turns out.

Gorgug is the most hopeful that she'll come back, that she'll find a way again, like in the Nightmare Forest. But Adaine knows this is the end. Even Arthur Aguefort agrees. He quotes Alanis Morissette at her funeral. The followers of Cassandra pull out all the stops.

Adaine, Fabian, and Gorgug have their own ceremony at Ashgrove, next to the Gukgak family plot. It's quiet. Bucky cries into Ragh's shoulder. Aelwyn, Jawbone, and Gertie collect flowers. Tracker stays for a few minutes to say goodbye.

---3---

They quit adventuring after Kristen's funeral. And they don't lose anyone else for a long time. Riz still visits, every few years. They talk about the good old days, how silly it was that Baron was so terrifying when at the end of the day it was an honest conversation that finally did him in. There's rumours that Kristen has ascended to goddesshood herself - Adaine doesn't buy it. She's not the type to be revered.

They come out of retirement for the only reason they would - to bring back one of their own. They finally found Fig's soul, trapped in a ruby in the darkest levels of the Abyss. They can't ask anyone to come with them - it's too dangerous, it's too personal. It's missions like this that kill people.

And when it's all over, when Adaine carries Fabian's burnt, unconscious body back to Morded Manor, they have another funeral to plan.

Gorbag and Roz have already passed, and Wilma and Digby are too old to make preparations, so it falls to Jawbone to organize it. He knows they don't want a lot of fanfare. It's at Ashgrove again, just Adaine and Fabian and the Thistlesprings, and Aelwyn and Ragh. Sandra-Lynn is back in Solace - she sends Adaine a heartfelt text saying she appreciates the invitation, but she can't bring herself to come.

Riz doesn't show for the ceremony - he's desperately scouring the heavenly realms, trying to make sure Gorgug ended up somewhere he wasn't afraid of. Orcish heaven doesn't have him, he reports, and neither does Cassandra.

If he's trapped in the Abyss with Fig, at least they have each other.

---2---

Adaine sees Fabian's death the night of Gorgug's funeral. She needs to prepare, she tells herself. She knows it's going to be hard. She needs all the time she can get, and she needs to know which goodbye will be their last.

They grow old together. Not romantically, although some speculate. Fabian becomes a multiclass advisor at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Adaine works in Bastion City as an archivist, with occasional trips to Fallinel for Oracle services. They go for vacations sometimes, but never for too long. The memories find them no matter where they go. Sometimes Adaine wishes she could be Ayda, scrape off the old wounds and start fresh. Arthur talks about her sometimes. She's never had the same spark as that one lifetime, he says.

Adaine watches the wrinkles grow beside Fabian's eye, watches his hair turn grey, watches the Future of Dance become its Mentor. He trades his Battlesheet for a cane-sword, then a regular cane. He takes to wearing the Gregorian necktie to classes, no matter how much it clashes with his outfit. They both wonder how many of their own teachers lost party members.

Adaine holds Fabian's wrinkled hand on his deathbed, in his old room at Seacaster Manor. He grins, flashes the same perfect teeth as on the first day of Freshman Year. "Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you?"

"I did," she whispers, tears streaming down her young elven face. "I knew it would end like this. But I always hoped it would last forever."

They're the last words he hears.

It's not the first funeral Adaine organizes. All the Bad Kids held one for Buddy Dawn, back in high school. She and Fabian worked together on the services for Jawbone, Ragh, and Chungledown Bim - who finally caught up to Fabian in both of their old ages. It is the first funeral she has to organize alone.

Some of Fabian's students attend. Arthur Aguefort gives a short speech, and a few students hear the story of Kalvaxus' return for the first time. Adaine sits with Aelwyn in the front row, a few seats down from Hallariel. Gilear records the service to show Telemaine later. Riz is somewhere deep undercover - he maybe hasn't even heard yet.

She always knew she'd be the last. She didn't expect it to hurt so much.

---1---

Adaine stumbles through a few years before she finds herself again. They pass so fast without a mortal lifespan to hold up against them. She drifts between Fallinel and Bastion City for the most part, with occasional return trips to Elmville. Aelwyn always has a place for her to stay. Seacaster Manor was turned into a dormitory for Aguefort students who needed a place to study, or sleep, or stay away from home for a while. Tracker converted Morded Manor into a temple/bed-and-breakfast for worshipers of Galicaea. Strongtower Luxury Apartments was demolished soon after Fabian started teaching at Aguefort. It seems like everything is different now.

Adaine visits Leviathan once, on a whim. The Compass Points hasn't changed a bit. On a chance meeting in the stacks, Ayda looks at her with a spark of familiarity.

"Adaine Abernant?"

"Yes... you remember me?"

Ayda shakes her head. "There are mentions of you in my journals. I leave journals for when I regenerate-"

"I know. I remember."

Ayda looks intrigued. "I wrote that you were a great wizard, and a good friend. I hear from other sources that you are the Elven Oracle. Perhaps you can shed some light on why the pages around yours are torn to shreds or redacted to the point of unreadability?"

Adaine places a gentle hand on Ayda's shoulder. "I don't know if you'd want that. You lost someone you cared about, so much that you thought it was better to forget her than to bear the pain of losing her."

Ayda considers this. "Is it better to forget?" she asks. "Would you give up the memories of those you lost, in order to keep a logical mind?"

"No. Not for anything."

"Then we should talk."

Adaine smiles. "I'd like that."

---2---

*end

Thanks for reading all the way through! I wrote most of this at 2am and the conclusion the next morning. Please take a reblog to share with your friends or drop a like to let me know you enjoyed - or hated - the story!

Ask me anything about it, please, I love discussing these kinds of theories!!!

[dgrailwar]

Round 13, Day 5 - A Wish for the Future

It seemed like the majority of you were willing to side with the goddesses. The tensions seemed high for just a moment, before the Ancient God's anger seemed to subside briefly, an expression resembling gratitude slowly forming on her face.

' I thank you. This future… '

There wasn't a moment for the Mother of Monsters to fully indicate her own gratitude, as another voice rumbled.

' I'VE HEARD YOUR WISH… A WORLD DEVOID OF HUMANS AND MONSTERS… '

The ground rumbled.

A massive beam shot towards Echidna, aiming straight for the core of the 'Grail'.

"...!"

The Ancient God's eyes widened, her own mystic eyes flaring with immense magical energy in defense of the Mother of Monsters as her curse flared outward, meeting the sudden attack head on and the resulting clash causing the chamber to rumble. Even then, the Ancient God's attack didn't seem to be enough, as two more waves of energy spewed outward, the cascade of magical power slamming into her massive form and causing her to stumble back with an agonizing roar.

"He's awake…?"

' Typhon… that is not my Typhon… '

While it did look almost identical to the dragon that Avenger and his Masters had seen, the pulsating purple growth on its chest was new. A small shape circled around the behemoth, white wings fluttering as dark ooze began to drip from the beast. Each dark puddle formed into a creature, as the three-headed dragon let out a massive bellow, the ground shaking once more as the Servants stumbled, quickly trying to catch their balance.

' I WILL GRANT YOUR WISH. '

The voice, that seemed to rumble like thunder and quake the earth itself spoke again.

"Hrm. So, the moth carrying Pretender's curse still lives, and it has begun piloting the Father of Monsters instead. How… vexing."

"Wait, a Pretender-Typhon? Not to steal MoonCancer's thunder as the worrier, but Pretender was already an incredibly powerful dragon… hooking up a fragment of him to one of dragonkind's progenitors is both way too compatible, and way too dangerous."

"Wait… why'd he talk about the wish being 'a world without humans or monsters', rather than a 'world of humans and monsters'…? Do you think that whatever Pretender's 'infection' is, it's like… twisting wishes around?"

The Gunner shrugged, before focusing his gaze on the Ruler and the MoonCancer.

"So, seems like the dragon doesn't want our world either. Plan on joining its team, or are we putting grudges aside?"

"...At least your wish considers humanity. Even if I don't agree with the principle… I'm not going to abandon my Masters or mankind! We're fighting together! To the end!"

"As if I'd turn down the chance to fight a final boss like this! I mean, I'm still super scared, but I've got to show off my god's divine might, right?"

"Hahaha! Glad that we're in agreement, then!"

The Avenger boldly stepped forward, throwing his arm outward. His mana, flames of vengeance and disaster, flared violently around him as you felt his Spirit Origin expand and grow in might, pushing his manifestation to the absolute brink.

"Kuhahaha-- KUHAHAHAHAHAAA! Behold, the giant Typhon! Beyond mortal, beyond dragons, beyond gods! Birthed of the Earth and the Abyss, his might was not meant to be overcome by humanity, nor his own kind! However, this serves as our final trial! A world of human and monsterkind, this is the path that our Masters have chosen!"

"I am Avenger! My True Name is the Count of Monte Cristo! Let us burn our spirits to the limit, and push on to a bright future!"

One by one, you felt as your Servants began to push their own Saint Graphs to the brink. Magical energy, prana surging like rapid rivers as they prepared to throw everything they had against the massive godkiller.

"Masters, let's prepare for battle! Show me the faith in the world you want, and I will respond in kind! You have Jeanne d'Arc's banner, so let it fly in the name of victory!"

"C'est la dernière danse! One last performance before it ends! I hope you're prepared, Masters, because there's no time to get cold feet now!"

"Alright, here goes nothing… Shree Vakratunda Mahakaya Suryakoti Samaprabha… Nirvighnam Kuru Me Deva Sarva-Kaaryeshu Sarvada…!"

"Go! Kiheitai! Come forth, Proto-Arahabaki! We're sparing no expense, we're pushing with everything we've got, so let's put on a show that'll make even the gods tremble!"

The Gunner pointed his hand outward, the space on the ground being filled with a swath of armed and ready soldiers, his mana burning alongside the others as he leapt upwards, landing on the shoulder of a massive pseudo-divine machine.

"This is it… one more battle, and we'll have done it…!"

The massive form before them let out an echoing, terrifying roar.

The six remaining Servants readied their skills and weapons, preparing for the fight of their lives.

Behold, the ancient weapon that struck fear into the heart of the king of gods. A god-killer, world-shaker, he who could rip asunder the cosmos. Behold, the ancient ephemera that struck him down in the short time of its manifestation. A being that holds no desire for wishes, but only a desire to see one's hopes laid low and their hubris brought crashing down.

The Progenitor Dragon, corrupted by the Mors King's curse! Typhon-Ephemeros!

The Extra Class of Twisted Wishes, Pretender!

[mikeysbabygirl]

Everybody portrays this man as a virgin loser bark bark ouaf ouaf who's just so nice and so shy, and I like it ! Don't get me wrong, he's such a sunshine.

But I'm thinking about this version of him, the dark one we saw after Manjiro's death (💔) and I probably shouldn't but man...

This is NSFW short draft so don't say you weren't warned. Word count : around 1000

Well for me, at least, this man is a menace.

He was such a sweetheart to you, before everything that happened. He couldn't even believe someone finally agreed dating him, moreover, you, none of his friends believed him when he told them about you two because "she's way outta your league", but it doesn't matter because at the end of the exhausting day at S&S motors, he would come to your place, hold your body closer, and sleep in your bed.

Now it was all water under burned down bridges, now he barely talks to you when you occasionally visit to make sure he's eating at least a decent amount. You don't blame him, after the traumatic events he's been through, you rather alternate between being there for him and giving him enough space.

Lately he's been taking a lot of space... and well you just wanted to know how he was doing, it precisely is what brought you to his place, what got you standing in front of Shinichiro sitting on his couch.

-" Gotta smoke " Wakasa lies, wanting to leave you both alone. He gets up from where he was sitting on the armchair and as he walks by you, his hand reaches to rub your waist in a comforting move. You both miss the blaze flickering on Shinichiro's deep abyssal hues.

-" Careful, he's not... " Wakasa whispers, almost a soft gaze on you as you give him a knowing smile.

Alone in the living room with him now, you dive deep in his dark ocean of eyes. He has never stared at you with such an empty glare, both arms resting behind the sofa, legs parted, weary expressionless face, and you anxiously playing with your fingers in front of him.

-" I just came to check on you" you announce, you finally dare to raise your head only to be met by yet another empty glance. " And to see if you needed anything from me".

-" Do I look like I need anything from you ?"

You swallow it, you've grown used to this dryness anyway.

-" No but..."

-" So ? Why the fuck you here for ? " He insists, his stern tone kind of intimidates you, he can see it, he wishes he could feel the slightest guilt... But along with the destructive thoughts colonizing his mind lately, the last straw and last thing he needed was seeing Wakasa's hand on you. He wanted to hurt you...

-" Shin I just wanted to kno-"

-" You just wanted Waka's cock. And I wasn't in need to see that. "

Well you tried at least not to take it personal, but your nerves are also easy to get at.

-" I'm sorry about everything that happened, okay ?" You finally dare raising your voice, though he doesn't seem the least impressed. " I'm sorry that I did not yet found a way to help you, Shin. I'm sorry I can't seem to be a good of a girlfriend. "

His foggy eyes drink in your shame whilst you get closer to his sitting form, standing right above him.

-" But... You don't get to talk to me this way. "

Nothing, not even the slow lift of his eyebrow could've prepared you...

-" You deserve better than all of this shit, but so do I. And I'm not just gonna sit here and let you disrespect me. I'm out."

It could have been a beautiful, dramatic moment, the rebellion of a woman in all its glory.

Yet Shinichiro's ticking bomb of nerves exploded right there and then, a strong, deadly firm grip is tightening around your fist, and with a gasp from you pulls you straight up into his lap.

You're frozen, because as much as he was so dry toward you lately, he didn't touched an inch of your skin. Deep inside, Shin wanted you to keep the memory of his old gentle touches instead, but oh well, you played first.

And you gulp down, as his hands come to squeeze your hips tightly, adjusting your body his left thigh.

-" Y'know what ?"

You're not sure if it is his face getting closer to yours, his fragrance mixed with the smell of smoke, or just his magnificently cursed aura, dark hair and eyes swallowing you like a black hole. But something about the way he looks at you tells you...

-" I think there's indeed something you can help me with..."

And the way his voice drops, becomes a growling whisper tells you...

-" Oh ? " You nervously scoff, a coping mechanism, probably, never had he been so... Creepy. " And what is it ?"

Shinichiro's hands sliding under your shirt, rubbing your bare skin up and down tells you...

-" Fuck yourself on my thigh".

To run.

-" You ain't fucking serious, are you ?" You raise an eyebrow, and immediately lower your tone in front of his unimpressed expression. " That's so toxic, Shin. We need to talk your issues th-"

The sudden thrust of his knee against your clothed clit, however, leaves to place to talk. Your eyes widen, he tightens his grip around your waist.

-" so we're not running the cute mouth anymore, huh ?" He scoffs, and you think, it's not your boyfriend in front of you. " you said it. You wanted it. "

And suddenly, his thigh won't stop meeting your clit, again, and again, stealing the breath from you and you're forced to hold on his broad shoulders. It is wrong, so wrong... But it has been so long since you've been showered with his touch, the drought left you as thirsty as to drink the poison he was spilling.

-" You wanted to help me. And I'm asking you, ride my thigh like you mean it. Like the fucking gorgeous slut you are. "

It felt like, his degrading words left by the window, while the need of him came by the front door. He saw your walls of seriousness stumbling down, saw your cheeks heating, your eyes beginning to roll back in your head, and he thinks that's crap because he really missed you.

-" yeah, that's it... " He groans in your ear, feeling the way you begin insidiously grinding against his thigh. " Fuck yourself on me, might just wanna take this pussy next"

And along with the twisted thoughts living in his mind right now, a smirk creeps up on his lips, hearing the ecstatic sounds breaking through the barriers of your mouth.

A rather forceful, abrupt thrust of his thigh, coming with a sudden hand pulling your hair back got you releasing a higher-pitched sound between a moan and a gasp, Shinichiro brushes your lips with his, making you face him.

-" and you're gonna make him hear. " You don't quickly understand he talks about Wakasa. Smoking somewhere in the kitchen or whatever. " Make him hear how loud I can make my bitch scream, before I'm pulling them from you by ruining this puss' , yeah ?"

At some point, you're even way too far gone to think about what he is saying. The only thing on your mind being your near orgasm, as his thigh relentlessly abuses your clit. Shinichiro suddenly pulls your face closer, fingers intertwining in your hair seeing the damp spot you're leaving on his pants.

-" That's it... That's what 'm talking about... See how good of a girlfriend you are for me ?"

I know I'm supposed to be revising BUT I COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS HELP. I'm probably just good for horny jail ( only for these manga boys tho)

Also it's not proof head so if you see a weird word just close your eyes on it lol

[l0vergirlatheart]

Hey zombie apocalypse anon here! That request was well written. How do you think zhongli, Childe, and cyno would react to zombie apocalypse creator?? How would they survive in creators world. How would they react to the trauma and PTSD?

welcome back!! do forgive me for cyno's part, not the most educated on him and his story!! also it's really short

a/n 2: sorry im going thru some stuff rn so its super delayed :((

c.w // blood, gore mention, zombies (obv...), disturbing descriptions, loud noises(?), ptsd mentions

start under cut.

ZHONGLI

He had been the ones sharing stories with you for so long, that now you believe it's time for you to share one aswell.

Your world may not be the most pleasant, but you will not keep yourself in debt when you can easily remove it.

Stories of your world, the start, the wars, the massacres, the infections, the losses, the attacks on technology, and of course, the fall of mankind.

It was the worst. The screams, the cries, the pleads and begs, yet you were powerless. You weren't the god of that world, but you're the god of this one. You were damned if you were to let that happen again.

You told him everything; and he stopped you at points due to your body's reaction to the memories.

"Take your time. There's no need to rush, we have all of eternity together, after all." He reassure you constantly, and you were glad to have a devotee like him.

After sharing your stories, the first thing he did was reach for your hand, softly putting his on top of yours.

Later, he held you. He ran his hands through your hair, fluffing it, caressing your face and hands, doing his best to pamper you more than ever.

Even as a previous war machine, a mass murderer, nothing could've prepared Zhongli to even think about you coming from somewhere like that.

It's alright now though.

You're here with him, in his arms, under his protection.

end : 1/3

CHILDE / TARTAGLIA

God, your world reminded him of the abyss he tried so hard to forget. It may have taught him how to fight, and gave him his love for bloodshed, but god, he hated it.

So much so, you wound up being the one comforting him more often than he. Though, there were times when you needed him more than he needed you. Where he ran his hands through your hair and held your hand, where he whispered reassuring words in your ears and kissed you ever so delicately.

Where he promised never to let another hurt you again.

Where he promised to hold you until you felt better. Until you'd fallen asleep. Until you'd stopped shaking and sobbing, no matter how long, he'd wait, because he loves you.

"It's okay Your Grace, those things won't touch you, and they won't even be able to see you either. Not when I'm around. I'll kill them all for you--"

"Nononono-- I just-- I just need you here. Alive with-- with me, please."

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

He really wasn't- he'd stay by your side 'til the end of time. No matter how many zombies he'd have to slash, no matter how many thieves he'd have to kill, no matter how many murders or anything he had to do,

He'd do it all over again, just for you.

end : 2/3

CYNO

Cyno had been through enough fights and enough places to know what you were going through the moment he saw it.

The way you made the smallest flinches at the smallest touches, the way you could hear and identify from mere footsteps, the fast reflexes that definitely didn't just come with your birth-- no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

He knew, but he wasn't going to call you out on it. It was your decision whether you wanted to tell him or not, he hasn't been through what you have, just like you haven't been through what he has.

All he could do was wait, and comfort you.

end : 3/3

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 1 - Apocalypse Arisen

Everything was dark.

It was an abyss, as any mortal would dare name it.

Outside, only death, waste and fog...Nothing alive to be spotted, no matter how much you wished to cling on the little ray of hope that humanity seemed to so dumbly hope to believe it existed.

Even he, the Anti-Christ, had to dorn a protective outfit against the  Carbon Dioxide that completely eradicated any gram of Oxygen left by the now ashes of the former trees.

Trees...They were green. And the sky, now grey and cloudy, used to be blue. A beautiful brilliant blue, just like his eyes, he remembered a comparison once, a long time ago - So long that it felt like aeons.

Going from one Outpost to another, much less fit for someone like him, was a true hassle, not to mention the horses had to be automatically put down. He was sure that, should she have been there, she would have been upset seeing them kill the poor, innocent animals so cruelly.

But it had to be done, to avert a more painful demise.

Surely, she would understand.

Outpost 3, ran by this so called Ms. Venable, an ugly, old wretch with severe scoliosis who finds herself superior to all the ones living in this place, as if she wasn't just as fortune, or perhaps, less so thank others might think, to be one of the survivors.

And so, he had to prepare yet another speech for these lowly mortals who cannot comprehend the true miracle of life and death.

The atmosphere was silent, fitting that of a funeral - Whose, he wasn't sure yet, but only time will decide - and only his shoes were heard, with each step her so gracefully took. All eyes were on him, of those curious mortals sitting on the couches, or farther away from him. Only the leader was waiting above them all, the big fireplace burning behind her, almost symbolising the supreme power she held.

Or so she thought and wished other to see.

He approached her, getting uncomfortably close to her, staring at her in the eyes, intimidating her, until she finally let her hair down, submissively, and left the scene only for him.

"My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative. I won't sugarcoat the situation. Humanity is on the brink of failure. My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilised life on Earth. The three other compounds...In Syracuse, New York ; Backley, West Virginia and San Angelo, Texas, have been overrun and destroyed. We've had no contact from the six international outposts, but we are assuming that they, too, have been eliminated." he spoke, letting a few seconds of silence, until one of those parasites dared speak. "What happened to the people inside?" he stupidly asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious enough. "Massacred." he answered, the ghost of a smirk on his face, watching their terrorised expressions. "The same fate that will befall almost all of you." he continued, enjoying how frail humanity can be whenever a lasso of hope was thrown towards them, despite being rotten. "Almost all?" the Grey with the most ridiculous hairstyle asked in a monotonous voice. "In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe...The Sanctuary." he explained the reason for his arrival better, only to be rudely interrupted by a snobby wench, repeating the last words he just uttered. "The Sanctuary?" she asked, almost in disbelief. "The Sanctuary is unique. It has certain security measures that will prevent overrun." the man continued his speech, only to be interrupted once again. "Excuse me, sir, what measures? Why weren't we given them?" the older woman asked, only for him to raise his hand dismissively. "That's classified. All that matters is that The Sanctuary will...Survive. So the people populating it will survive...So humanity will survive." his voice become more cheerful, the undertones of despair-inducing clearly affecting everyone in the room. "Who are the people who are populating it?" one of the men asked, but the answer mimicked the previous one. "Also classified...However! I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us. The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call...Cooperating. I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong." he explained with a small, patronising smirk. "What is this, The Hunger Games? This is bullshit! I paid my way in here, and that is the only cooperating I plan on doing." the same snobby wench dared raise his voice at him, only for one, much softer, to intervene. "Please, miss, refrain from raising your voice to a person of authority." the feminine voice belonged to a woman, seemingly shy, garbed in the ugliest grey clothes, her hair under a rag, just like old women used to, centuries ago. "And who do you think you are, speaking to me like that, slave?! You are nothing more than an ant! A Grey! You weren't even special enough to be a Purple, like me! I have ALL the right to speak to anyone the way I want to!" she barely stopped herself from shooting to her feet, as if electrified, which made the poor girl shrink into her already large clothes, as if trying to completely disappear from there.

There was something that set here apart, however, and he wasn't sure what it was...Could it be her voice? Small, soft and afraid, like that of a little mouse, running away from the lion? Or was it the respect and politeness that she somehow managed to retain, despite all the chaos running amok?

Regardless of the answer, he must find out more about here and determine whether or not his intrigues were misplaced. "You don't have to sit for questioning." the man shook his head, taunting her with his calm answer. "What happens if we choose not to?" the same man asked, once again. "Then you stay here and die." the answer was, as expected, much harsher and pressed, enough to leave an impact on all of them. "I volunteer to go first." the platinum haired man raised his hand, after a brief silence that everyone took to process everything. "And so you shall. The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won't be kept in suspense forever. For those of you who don't make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking, down one of these." the mysterious man showed a transparent vial, his voice turning into a captivating one, almost as if he was a story-teller to the kindergarden kids. "One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up...I look forward to meeting each and every one of you." were his last words, spoken with a feign smile, as he left the room, letting everyone bicker between who is going to live.

Unlike them, the mousy girl ran away, unnoticed by anyone, holing herself in her room, trying to calm herself down. She knew that she was an unworthy Grey and this man was not going to bring with him some useless lowlife such as her.

The man, Langdon, however, was much too busy interviewing the gay man, who so shamelessly showed his interest in him...How ridiculous of a foolish mortal like him to think he was going to get touched by the Anti-Christ himself? His skin will only ever be touched by an angel, and until he finds her, he will burn everything in his path...

As he already did, and will continue to do.

This previous little bitch, Venable, however, thought that she was in control of this Outpost, truly, that she could bend rules to her own will, only for her frail ego to be covered, as she thought she could act so patronisingly with him.  But his voice could be incredibly sympathetic, when talking about the mother with her two children he encountered, only for him to move to his study and ask for her opinion on who should populate the Sanctuary...And the then proceed in humiliating her.

She truly thought she could best him, but Langdon was smarter than any mortal alive. He knew everyone's weaknesses, and unzipping her dress, tracing the sinuous spine of hers, and watching her weep...Taunting her, mocking her...Going so close to her face, his breath on his...

Only to destroy the last ounce of hope she had by declining her.

Oh, was it satisfying.

Two interviews have already been done, and the gay got punished by the narcissistic woman filled with insecurities, using him as a martyr, until she realised he was enjoying every crack of the whip... She was weak. She didn't have a clue how to destroy people.

But he did.

Softly touching the man, circling him, denying everything the leather man did...

"I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last man on Earth...And you almost are! It's not because you're not physically attractive. It's your neediness. Your desperation to be seen and loved. The hole you need filled isn't in your face or your ass, it's in your heart. You're pathetic. I can see why your grandmother is disgusted by you." his voice was low, mocking, knowing each word exactly which heartstring to sever. "You don't know anything about my nana." the man tried to refute the only thing he knew he was true. "Why else would she report you? Make them do this to you. I'm sure she hoped they would put you out of your misery...And hers." Langdon let out an amused breathe, continuing his merciless pursue of destroying the man in shackles.. "That's bullshit." Rage. Disbelief. Shock. Confusion. He was very much broken before even coming here...And now, he's shattered. "She's the reason you're staring at a death sentence. She would do anything to increase her slim odds of getting out of here. You know she hates your guts." he continued circling him, staring him right into his eyes that held nothing but self-doubt. "You're a liar." was his last, weak attempt as saving his last bit of pride. "Am I? Perhaps you should go and talk to her about it yourself, then." Langdon smirked, letting the man free as he left the room.

The gay's grandmother reported her own grandson to give her an extra chance of survival...How pitiful and desperate humans are. And now, from rage, the silly boy killed his own grandmother with a pair of scissors. If the night wasn't eventful enough, two people has intercourse, and now had to be punished, same as the murderous one. And now, it was up to him pick up the broken pieces and put them back together. They dream of salvation, but commit nothing but sin. Truly, God will not help them, so why not extend their hands towards a more preferable deity, such as Satan?

Ave Satanas. Ave Satanas.

But no, they are afraid. Much too afraid. The unknown scares them almost as much as their own ugly souls do.

Pathetic, this humanity is.

He was done with nonesense, for now. Interviewing this pathetic bunch who would kill each other just for a few more seconds of aimless breathing and blinking. Just a few more heartbeats. Langdon, now, wanted something more. He wanted purity, and he wanted to taint it. To steal it. To devour it. He needed it.

That Grey mousy girl with the pathetically weak voice. That's what he needed. Urgently.

And so, she arrived in the room, with a soft knock on the door, patiently awaiting to be allowed inside, and then, slowly closing it behind her, making sure no sound comes out, most likely not wanting to bother anyone.

"Sit down." he ordered, in a commanding voice, not needing to intimidate her any further. "Thank you, sir." she didn't lift her gaze up, despite doing as she was told. "Why are you hiding your hair under that ugly rag?" he asked, intertwining his fingers together and leaning forwards on his desk. "Ms. Venable said my hair colour is a disgusting, genetical abnormality, so she gave me the choice. Either shave it, or hide it." she answered, her hands clasped together tightly between her knees, her shoulders slouched, trying to appear as little and insignificant as possible. "I see. I did notice Ms. Venable has a... Tendency to add ridiculous rules to the set already given by the cooperative, so enlist a certain sense of power that she never had when things were normal." he spoke, waiting for her to speak, only to hear nothing. "You are not agreeing, nor disagreeing. I wonder whether you think that is a smart choice or not. You are an obedient one, you chose to sit on my interview, yet you barely speak. This action may influence your chances of survival, are you aware of that?" he asked, his voice lower, whispered almost, as he desperately wanted to get a look at her eyes. "I-I know...But...I don't know what to say. I...Don't deserve the chance given by the Sanctuary. Coco was right...I'm just a Grey. An Ant. I'm not talented, nor a genius or anyone important or needed. Perhaps life would be a better place, should Purples continue to populate it." she stuttered her words, as her body became even stiffer, and her teeth were digging into her bottom lip to prevent it from quivering. "I never said it would influence in good or bad, however, you assume that I choose people based on their rank given here, and I will have to disagree. However, I cannot disclose the methods behind choosing the right candidates. What I can do, however, is to tell you that, from all the others who so pathetically tried to ruin each other's chances, you seem the only one to possess a certain light in your heart. A purity and innocence that I cannot understand...So tell me...Do you truly think Coco deserves to be picked for the Sanctuary?" he pressed on, once again, enjoying how uncomfortable she was. "I-I think everyone deserves a chance for a better future. It is not my place to give my opinion, since I'm not certified, nor qualified for this." the girl began trembling softly, like a leaf blown away by the wind, and it was entertaining the blond man more than he wished to admit - She was a challenge, and he was ready to crack her. "You play it safe. You don't want to bother anyone. You don't want to upset anyone. You're almost like a ghost. Invisible. Unnoticeable. Drifting away, leaving no impression to anyone...And yet, you are afraid. You are scared that nobody will remember you. That nobody likes you, and will never like you. You live in fear and anxiety, which is why you choose to be passive and accept those ridiculous rules given to you by that idiot." he raised up, slowly prowling towards her, like a cheetah carefully approaching its prey, then sat on the desk, right in front of her, to visualise her better.

"I'm...Not sure how to answer." she mumbled, gluing her back to the corner of the seat, trying to put space between the two. "Begin by taking off that rag." he spoke more casually this time, as if he was trying to gain her trust, just like you would approach a scared baby fawn looking for its mother. "O-Okay...If that is what you wish..." she spoke softly, as her fingers trembled, removing the rag and letting a gorgeous cascade of fire hair flow in waves past her shoulders and covering her flustered and frightened visage. "So Venable is afraid or red haired people, how very interesting. Now, look me in the eyes." he took a strand of her hair, twirling it around with his finger, his mind wandering away, for just a split second, remembering those nice, old times, when he would sit under the shade of a Wisteria tree and do the same thing with her. "I-I-I'm afraid I cannot do that. I'm sorry to disappoint you." she hung her head even lower, making the man frown and tilt his head to the side. "And why is that?" his voice became just a tint sharper, and yet, it wasn't unnoticeable "That's... Because I'm very shy... A-And I was never able to look anyone in the eyes. People always intimidated me." her voice was much more mellow, and shaking...She had tears forming in her eyes, without a doubt. "Look at me. I want to see your eyes." Langdon grasped her chin, brusquely tilting it upwards, forcing her to hold eye contact with him.

Her eyes, sparkling with tears, were green, just like the pine trees from the forest he used to go so often to. They were the same innocent eyes that held only kindness and love whenever they laid upon him. They were now, however, frightened, confused, filled with despair, just like he used to be, long ago. How the tables turn, Langdon thought, as his mouth was slightly agape from the shock of seeing so many emotions pooling from the girl's eyes.

"Tell me your name." he wanted to be stern, he truly did, but the thought that this woman might be her was killing him. "Katrina..." a soft whisper escaped her luscious pink lips that resembled the petals of the most delicate rose from her childhood flower garden that she loved so much. "So it is you... It really is you... Katrina... My Katrina... My Kat." he rapidly took away his hand from her face, as if electrocuted, mumbling to himself, not believing that finally, after so long, after so many searches...He found her again. His beloved angel. "S-Sorry, but... H-Have we met before...? You act as if you know me... I-I hope I didn't offend you..." she muttered, forcing herself to look at him with those lamb eyes of hers...That shattered his resolve completely. "You...You don't remember me? I'm Michael...Mickey, you used to call me. We were best friends when we were young...And then you left for a witch school, and you gave me this ring, telling me that you will find me again...But you couldn't, so I saved you from Hell. Twice, in fact. Can you...Truly not remember me...?" his voice, unlike before, was much more frail, with a fragility that it could almost break. "I...I don't think you have the right person...I'm so sorry. I'm...I'm not special. I didn't have any friends when I was little, and I went to a boring school in the neighbourhood. My father left us, and my mum was working hard, but was always mean to me. I don't even know how I got here, to be fair...And...I'm not Matilda...Or Hermione...A-Although I wish magic was real...But even so, I'm such a good for nothing Grey...Even if magic was real...I would most likely not have powers...But...Mr. Michael...I truly hope that you will find the one you are looking for." she so boldly took his hand in both of hers, caressing it soothingly, which, unknown to her, was a habit of hers from long ago, which made Michael, for the first time, cling on hope, just like any mere mortal. "And what if I prove to you that magic is real?" he asked, with a tint of playfulness, his usual taunting smile now turning much softer. "You can...?" she whispered ever so softly, her eyes opening wider with curiosity, her head held high, to search for the truth in the eyes that resembled to much the sky from those sunny days. "Put your hands together... Yes, just like this... And look. From your own hands, a little flower blooms... And it is beautiful, just like you." he spoke, holding his own hands under hers, looking at the black flower that grew from her hands, slowly blooming, then shifted his gaze to hers, searching for a reaction, with uncharacteristic excitement.

"H-How... ?! This... This is so beautiful...! How did you do that...? Are you... A Warlock? A sorcerer? A philosopher? Are you playing with illusions? Tricking my minds? Or... Is this truly... Magic...?" Katrina could barely speak as she witnessed the wonder in front of her - She was breathless. "You taught me this. When we first met, I was a little child, and I was crying in the forest. You found me, and gave me a flower. It was blue, just like my eyes, and you put it in my hair. I smiled, and you said I looked beautiful. Unfortunately, my magic cannot replicate entirely the purity of yours, however, it can do similar things, to some extent." he explained, taking the flower and carefully putting it in her hair, leaving her awestruck. "You truly believe that I am that person, don't you? There are billions of people out there that look just like me, and yet, you believe in me. Why?" she asked, and with a refined gentleness, he caressed her face, wiping away the tears that escaped her eyes. "I can sense people. Their hearts, their soul, their intentions, their minds, their fears, their weaknesses...Everything. And you...You are just like the one I used to know. Same hair, same eyes, same voice, same behaviour, same purity, same kindness, same light and same tendency to nurture others. I have met tons of people in my life, and you are the only one like that. It's a truly unique gift that, unfortunately, society seems to prey upon and wish to destroy. You have noticed that as well, haven't you? Why else a perfect human being such as yourself would be a Grey, when she should obviously be a ruling Queen over these lowly peasants? If you wished to, you could destroy them in the blink of an eye. You must just remember." he leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, not daring to keep his eyes from her for even one second, afraid that she might disappear just like a smoke figure slipping from his fingers. "...Michael...?" she asked, very timidly, yet with hope and intrigue, for the first time since they started speaking. "What is it, my darling?" the man replied, brushing his hair against a strand of her hair. "Could you... Please... Help me remember...? Remember what happened... Remember who I am... Remember... You?" her request was so filled with innocence and wish to understand, to break the riddle of her life and mind, that he fell to his knees, grasping her hands and kissing them gingerly. "Anything you wish for, I will grant you. Just say the words, and it shall be done." he smiled widely, almost as if intoxicated by her presence alone. "I cannot let my guard down around these people, so I cannot show anyone any explicit liking. However, since you are a Grey, I can use it to my advantage and have you around me, under the pretext of being my personal maid. Tonight, you will be spending the night with me." he got up, helping her raise and pulling her to his chest, looking down at her small form, irked that she was still so stiff and uncomfortable to his presence...To his touch...To him. "But... Ms. Venable forbid a man and a woman - " her voice was shaky, looking away from him, her porcelain skin growing a tint rosier, and for the first time in so many years, his heart began beating once again, and he felt warm, but not from anger...But from adoration. "Venable isn't the rule here. I am. And if anyone dares cross you, they will have to pass me first, which I can assure you, won't happen." his tone was dark and firm, like that of a king - No, more of a Dark Lord - But the confidence he was radiating managed to calm her senses, as she nodded in agreement. "Now, shall we retire for the night? I was thinking of a story, if you'd wish to hear?" like the devil whispering into her ears, she could only fall for his charm and that seducing, velvety voice of his, and followed him to his room, as with a hand on her back, he guided her in the grand bedroom.

Taking off his blazer and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, he comfortably sit in bed, extending his arm for her to join him, her eyes watching her with the eyes of a predator, as she, with the shyness of a bunny, stood there, next to the door, looking down, with her hands clasped together to her chest.

"Do you wish to sleep standing? I doubt it would be comfortable. Why not join me? Take off your dress, I will give you one of mine, so you can sleep properly." he took out one of his black shirts, giving it to her, then tilting his head towards the bathroom for her to change, knowing very well how timid she is.

Some would have the phrase "Wolf in sheep's clothing" on their lips, seeing Michael so vulnerable around her, and yet, seeing her in only his shirt, draping down to her knees, "Sheep in wolf's clothing" would be much fitting, he thought, and yet, he realised he couldn't breath, and the urge to grab her and pull her close to his chest - So close that she would be in his heart, in his soul - No matter how unachievable that would be, he knew he never wanted her to leave his arms.

He could feel how uncomfortable she was in his arms, so close to him, a complete stranger, at least to her amnesiac self, and he did the one thing that she used to do to him whenever she tried to comfort him and calm him down - Play with her hair. Long, beautiful, smooth, shiny and full of life, just like the fire that used to play in her eyes whenever she was excited about something.

"Do you want me to tell you 'The Story of the Beautiful Angel and The Ugly Demon' ?" he asked in a gentle voice, hoping it would take her mind away from her worries. "Okay...I'm curious. I've never heard of it before." the girl smiled, daring to drape her arm over his chest, feeling a weird sense of security and... Home.

There was once a little angel, dancing in the glade of the forest of Eden, on one cloudless day of Spring, where the warmth of the Golden Sun's fan of rays caressed the Earth and all its living beings. Her voice was so beautiful as she sang that numerous critters gathered around her and the birds would chirp with her.  As she was lying down, under a Wisteria tree, the purple flower petals dancing with the wind, a little boy, ugly and crying, lost his path and ended up in front of the girl. He was so ugly, and his sobs were so creepy, that he made all animals run away from there. The girl, however, did not.

Instead, she smiled at him, a gentle smile, and extended her hands towards him, guiding him to sit next to her.  She asked him his name, yet he was much too frightened to answer. So she kneeled in front of the boy, brought his hands together, and putting hers under his, she made a little flower bloom. It was the colour of his eyes, just like the colour of the azure sky.

He looked in wander and shock at what just happened, not believing his eyes, thinking her some kind of Goddess...Until she picked the flower and put it in his hair, golden, each separate hair looking as if it was the finest thread of gold that was used to embroider Emperors and Empresses' royal clothing - It was shining brighter than the Sun itself.

"You are beautiful when you smile. Happiness suits you." she said, and yet, her dazzling smile mesmerised by the ethereal being in front of him, as if he was cheated by some spell.

And a spell it was indeed, and the girl compared herself to some witches she saw in humans' television, and since then, she tried to recreate what she was seeing, and bit by bit, she was becoming better and better, while the demon, who could do magic too, was becoming worse and worse. 

He was born evil, and she was born good. The world was either white or black, and there was no grey...At least for him, back then.

But there was one thing the angel said that will stuck to him forever, when he finally told her the reason for his distress.

He was evil, only capable of malevolent thoughts, of destroying, purging, erasing life from existence, while she was the exact opposite - A Saint, filled with kindness and benevolent actions, bringing life and healing wounds.

How could she possibly want to stay around him, a creature of the dark, when she's always engulfed in light?

But she was quick to erase his worries, as she cupped his face, drying the tears that sparkled like zircons, and said, with a voice gentle, and warm, so sweet, as if she was luring a fawn...

"There is light and dark in every human being, without exception. Maybe you feel like one side overpowers the other, but with the right influence, I assure you, you are capable of outstanding things. You are strong, Little Demon, and I promise you, when I look into your eyes, I can see the humanity shining in you, striving to shine and be better. I have faith in you, so please, believe in yourself as well."

And those words will forever be imprinted into his heart, sown with the same golden thread that made out the Sun Rays.

When Michael looked down, he notices the woman he held to his chest was much more relaxed. In fact, she was sleeping peacefully, with no sign of restlessness. She seemed...Peaceful.  It seemed his voice managed to put her to sleep, and he was happy with that.

She truly was the star shining brightest in the sky.

Next Chapter >

[faemytho]

I know I JUST requested one but a friend and I were chatting and I don't trust myself to give this idea justice, so if I'm not being too obnoxious...

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before." But it's specifically Eel, referring to 1 of his lines mentioning getting too close to him might get you electrocuted

AHHH I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. EXAMS,,,,. also BY THE WAY, i dont care if i get sent 1 million requests, if my reqs are open ill take em if i like em and if my reqs are closed ill keep em until i feel like writing em. those of u who spam my inbox with all ur ideas, i love u.

he/they eel, u guys already know lol

wc: 909

-

Abyss Monarch did not often speak their mind. As a result of this, they were rather observant. As a result of that, when they did speak their mind, it was always some kind of statement or inquiry that hit hard, full of only absolutely necessary meaning.

Perhaps Eel was used to it by now. They knew him fairly well, or at least enough that there were definitely unspoken feelings between them that neither of them seemed content to talk about. Still, the particular question today had managed to catch him off guard.

"Eel," Abyss Monarch murmured, their voice dark like velvet and cold like the ocean floor. "Is there a reason you're so jumpy when other cookies come close?"

Electric Eel paused in the middle of a gesture, the story he'd been telling regarding Anglerfish's latest woes trailing off into nothing. He looked at Abyss Monarch, who was settled comfortably on the mattress they used for a bed, which was shoved against the wall of the broken pot they called home. It was hardly anything fit for anyone who was called a monarch, but they were content even among the dirt that smudged the floor of their home.

Abyss Monarch tilted their head, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not jumpy," Eel said, tail twitching behind him. "I just think other cookies should keep their distances from me."

Abyss raised a brow. "So," they murmured thoughtfully, pushing themself up to their feet with mindless ease, "were I to come close to you, you would ask me to retreat?"

"Well, no, but-" Eel took a step back, and Abyss took a step forward. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It's complicated. I don't wanna hurt anyone. I give off way too much electricity."

"I doubt you could hurt me, my Light."

Eel stared at them. They stared back, but did not take another step, instead folding their arms behind their back.

"Come here."

"What?" Eel exclaimed, his hair frizzing up in shock. "No. I don't want to hurt you."

Abyss Monarch chuckled, an amused, dark sound that echoed around the walls of the broken pot. "You cannot hurt me, Electric Eel," they said, "no more than the Sea can reach the Moon."

Eel gave them a helpless look. They watched him debate to himself, staring at them, flexing his hands like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Finally, after a long moment, he sighed.

"If I hurt you, you gotta promise you won't let me near you again," he said firmly, but they could see his resolve dissolving away into the water. "Okay?"

"That is agreeable." Abyss tilted their head. "But it will not happen."

Electric Eel squinted at them. Slowly, like he was bracing himself, he stepped forward towards them. They watched him shuffle forward, careful and cautious, until he was standing in front of them, eyes squeezed shut.

How adorable he looked just standing there, they mused to themself. He looked scared, frightened, bristling up in preparation for something he thought might hurt them. A shock, perhaps.

"I'm going to touch you," Abyss warned, and lifted their hands to do exactly that.

He flinched when they cupped his face, tense and braced, electricity charging the water around them. Sparks danced over their fingers and down their arms, but despite the electricity, it only tingled. It was reminiscent of the feeling of a limb falling asleep, pins and needles, but not painful.

"You can open your eyes, Eel," they said softly. He cracked an eye open, still tense, but at the sight of them, he gradually relaxed. The charge faded. "I am alright, see?"

He breathed a shuddering breath, eyes opening and staring up at them. They let their thumbs rub across the skin of his cheeks.

"Can you hug me?" Eel asked, the words rushed and blurted out as though he hadn't meant to say them. Maybe he hadn't, given the way his cheeks darkened, and he averted his gaze. "Sorry, you don't have to. I just... don't really get them..."

Without answering, Abyss stepped forward and pulled Eel into a hug. He trembled as they wrapped their arms around him, stiff and unsure when they rested their cheek on the top of his head.

For a long moment, they stood there together. Abyss turned their face, closing their eyes and giving a contented sigh. Eel lifted his arms, and after another moment, wrapped them around Abyss to return the embrace.

"Nobody's ever really..." Electric Eel faltered, and trailed off, shivering in the hold of the abyss. "Ever..."

"Ever what, my Light?" Abyss Monarch murmured, their words quiet and soft and muffled into Electric Eel's mane of hair. They were content here, curled around him in the privacy of the broken pot they still called home.

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before," Eel muttered, the words soft and unsure, but he pressed against them, hungry and craving for the touch.

Their hearts twisted in their chest. Like them, he had grown used to the lack of touch, and yet longed for it. He was just like them. They held him closer.

"I'm not going anywhere," Abyss Monarch murmured, lifting a hand to thread through his mane of hair. He curled into them, his eyes falling shut. The dim hum of electric charge that always seemed to accompany him stayed, and though electricity danced over the two of them, Abyss did not mind it.

[zeriq-5]

_A Short Gregory based story (the Wizard)_

She left, The Security guard who now Gregory lived with left to deal with the chaos of the Mega Pizzaplex that they caused in a single night. He sat on the couch of the living room of her apartment. Well, their apartament.

He didn't feel comfortable enough to call this place his home, he saw himself as a guest. His knees apart, legs shaking from anxiety, couldn't think of what to do. Freddy’s head was charging at the kitchen table, he didn't know what to watch on TV because he knew that Pizzaplex’s random Temporary closure was gonna show up on the news. His head was running with a thousand questions that he couldn't even think of processing.

“how did they know my name?”, “why is my mind so fuzzy ?” And more and more kept running through his head. He felt that only Vanessa could answer these questions but he had a feeling that she was almost as lost as him. Gregory was never a patient child, especially after all this turmoil, So he decided to pass his time until Vanessa arrived, napping on the same couch where he sat to see if he could at least kill two birds with one stone.

He lays down, placing the couch pillow on his head. He tries to think of something that would put him to sleep like a lullaby as he closes his eyes. He finally manages to make his body relax, finally entering a needed nap. A few seconds passed, the good old hiss of the night was all he wanted to hear.

A loud THUMP was heard after a while, making him jump from the couch ready for anything. He took a quick look at his surroundings, Nothing in the window of the apartment, he also took a look at the clock to see what time it was “2:24 AM” the digital clock next to the window told. The living room itself was clear and Freddy's head didn't accidently fall on the kitchen floor. Since everything was safe, He decides to return to the Couch and sleep, waiting for Vanessa to return.

In his steps to return to the sofa he could hear the noise again, this time louder behind him. He immediately looks back and sees the hallway that leads to Vanessa's Room and the Bathroom with an impenetrable darkness. While he was looking to at least get an idea of what it could be, maybe the wind was making the door open and close, but he heard It again.

It was at that moment that he realized that it was not something normal being caused by natural means, It was steps, LOUD steps. He thinks it's Vanessa who could have probably come home from work early, she said she wasn't gonna take long afterall. So he got a little closer, but not enough to show trust, the fight or flight was still there.

“Vanessa ?” he says scared talking to the abyss, But nothing could prepare him for it to answer back. A deep smooth but somewhat ill voice could be heard saying “No” that freezes the boy. The steps continued but so did Gregory’s who immediately ran to the apartment door to escape but a Dark wine-purple wall blocked the exit, that wall felt cold and rough like It was there even before Gregory could imagine.

“You are Alone, Child” Said the Abyss in the Hallway, getting closer. He immediately turns his head to It to try and face the situation, nowhere to run after all. Purple pupils pierced through the Darkness. “But do not worry,” it spoke as it slowly revealed itself from it, showing a seemingly skeletal…. thing. It felt like It was detaching It from the Darkness, like a water drop. When the entire creature revealed itself going from crouching to standing upright with confidence, It roared “I am here”.

Gregory, shocked by what he was seeing, couldn't speak but look It felt familiar but in the worst way imaginable. It looked like a really old bunny animatronic, Deteriorated by time with what was left of its dark green costume was a noticeable endoskeleton that when looking further upon, You could see what seemed like flesh growing in it like some kind of old tree with deep and Strong roots.

When He looked straight into Its face, The jaw of the animatronic, If you could even call that one, was missing, leaving what looked like the jaw of the “human” growing inside of it, leaving the top part of the costume like a mask.

"Why are you so scared, apprentice ?” The hellish looking Bunny spoke. Gregory, now shaking with fear taking steps back for safety, fired back It's question with his own “Wh- What are you ?”. The boy had never been so scared in his life, rightfully so, It might look frail but he has no Idea what this freak of Nature could do.

“You don't remember me, apprentice ? that's a shame” it tilted It's Head looking quickly upon and down the boy. “It doesn't mean that it’s forever forgotten” the Bunny said, getting closer and closer. Gregory fell into the Couch, still quaking from It, the Bunny looked at its surroundings and said “I see you're at her house, I won't lie that this wasn't the result I expected. Especially from a mind as brilliant as yours” somehow with a smug tone.

He looks directly into the kitchen, with a clear proud look in his Dark Deep eyes, “No murder leaves It's weapon behind” It teased Gregory. “What ?” Shakinly Said to the Monster as confused he could ever be, what was It Referring to ? “The Bear” It said as Quickly the head snapped back to him, with a clear bone cracking sound, It's dead arms wooshed by such action.

“You loved that Bear, seemingly just as much as I remember. to take him with you to Shelly’s Burrows. It means you haven't completely changed” Said the Bunny lifting It’s arm and pointing towards the mess of fear of a kid. quickly the child responded yelling for answers “WHAT ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT”.

The creature got closer to him towering over the boy, “it's a shame, Doctor Rabbit. You are still my favorite apprentice even with this precious faulty memory of yours” it lowers down to be at the same level as him, one knee on the floor and the other he uses as support. He puts his right hand on top of his head, managing to cover all of it like a helmet.

Paralyzed, Gregory felt a strange calming breeze from the window, Making him close his eyes and breathe deeply and with a new found intuition he asked “Are You that thing in the Sinkhole of the Pizzaplex ? ”. With all remaining courage he had he opened his eyes to stare at the beast.

The creature then got up to Its towering stance, took his hand away from his head calmly. What seemed like a Chuckle could be heard when the thing was turning its back, “Not exactly” Slowly returning to the middle of the room.

“Then what are you ?” Gregory begged for an answer again. The Bunny placed its hand on the table nearby as It walked away, “If you embrace the nothing again, It will be revealed” So the creature said, returning to the Hallway.

“I will see you once again, Child. But not Tomorrow or the next day, my Slumber is long however i too wake up” said as It's body became one again to the Darkness, returning to the Abyss.

Gregory, Still quite shaken by the appearance of the living dead, he picks up the hint that It left. “I too wake up”. Was he dreaming ? Better yet, was It a nightmare ? If so, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to escape whatever just happened. for when he opened his eyes, Vanessa was sitting next to him reading a book and he was covered by a blanket. The soft sun light hit his face, making him look out the window to see the new day.

“If you're sleepy, go to my bed or atleast get Something to cover yourself, little Man” She says putting her book about Marketing next to her in the gap of the couch. Gregory's eyes fill with tears as he rethinks what happened and gives this woman a hug. “Had a nightmare or did you miss me ?” She said in a mocking tone, Gregory shook his head in agreement.

Vanessa pets his head and says “I'm sorry for leaving you alone, I promise it won't happen again, the Company was trying to figure out what happend and I had to skip around to protect us”.

Gregory laughed, at the horribly timed Bunny joke of hers, It was enough to him to never want to let go of Vanessa, He was never a scared cat in his life but this brought a strange comfort to him.

But even with a warm hug he still thought about the implications. it was a dream, does that mean the creature came from his mind ? If so, what's also lurking in the Abyss of his mind ? Maybe the answers he once wanted.

[punishercross]

His last though almost feels as though it echoes in his head, bouncing off his skull, and leaving him embarrassed as he stands in the Abyss. The others have already died, so its no big deal. Shouldn't be a big deal. If you kill, you need to be prepared to die, and that was that. (That really wasn't that. The core of the matter was less his death in this place and more what he had learned as he died. That it wasn't something temporary. That he was as good as dead, outside of this place. That this would soon be the only place he had left that wasn't six feet deep. As he experienced that temporary death, all he could dwell on was how weak he felt in that moment. The face of the monster strangling the life out of him - his own face. A face so many had seen before him. And that…This feeling would one day be permanent.)

He brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing it absentmindedly as he looked around. He was, in some capacity, familiar enough with what he would find here. A diner. They served burgers, at the minimum, not made of worms. He knew that much. So he made his way forward - with a strange mix of jealousy that the others had all had company in this empty place and then anger for even thinking that he wanted that at all.

He'd sit as long as he was allowed to and make sure nobody else showed up. He could, at least, do that.

The diner was easy enough to find, and the door opened without any further attempts. The place was pretty empty, nobody he recognized, at least, and he made his way over to a booth to sit down.

(More like collapse into.)

Bringing an unlit cigarette up to his mouth, he rolls it around absentmindedly without lighting it. Better to do something distracting. Better to not think. Or dwell.

He orders a few hamburgers and gets ready to wait.

…

He doesn't have to wait long, it seems. About two burgers into the four burgers at the table, he looks up as the door opens for whatever next dead visitor comes in.

For a man who doesn't believe in God, Nicholas D. Wolfwood prays that it's nobody he recognizes.

And likely because he doesn't believe in God, those prayers go unanswered.

"…Fuckin' hell." He mutters, wiping his face and setting down his burger. "...Was kinda hopin' not t'see ya here. But I guess ya decided I needed company, huh?" A small attempt to keep it light. Light-ish. Light-er.

After all, they were both already here.

A beat, silence. And then, more quietly.

"Hey."

@blankticket

[paragonrobits]

random snippet i might consider as making a feature of an adventure time/SU crossover I've been thinking about expanding upon:

-----

Peridot squinted, delicately holding up a reader, or at least something that she said was for measuring levels of magic.

The human boy that acted like a dog and moved like a bear tilted his head, watching it solemnly. His head tilted to one side almost exactly like a dog, and again it struck Steven that his new friend moved in ways that reminded him of the Gems, too.

The boy, Finn, had a strangely reserved way of moving, alternating between sudden bursts of energy and careful, measured movements. The whole time he was watching everything around him, and it gave Steven the impression Finn was silently weighing things up and working out if they were threats or not. More than once he'd seen Finn warily sizing things up and Steven had realized in those moments that Finn was preparing to fight, no matter how seemingly harmless the situation really was.

He tensed up whenever they were around people; given how dense cities tended to be, Steven had found himself edging nearer to Finn just to make him feel more comfortable, and true enough Finn had slowly acclimatized to it. But it left Steven wondering: what had Finn lived through to make him so unfamiliar with the idea of lots of humans together in one place? It seemed strangely exotic to Finn, or at least Steven had interpreted it as such.

It was about as the strange nostalgia he noticed in Finn when the radio had played rock music from about a few decades ago, or how he had seem inexplicably on the verge of tears when he smelled bubblegum candy, or fixated on little bulldogs like he was waiting for them to recognize him.

"Just thinking about home," he had replied shortly, when Steven worked up the nerve to ask.

Secrets; the boy had lots and lots of them. Steven had been in his dreams once. It had left him with even more questions and nightmares and he wasn't sure he wanted to know more.

(Steven still dreamed of some... thing. A skeleton, patchy bits of flesh still clinging on, holding a single finger to its teeth and whispering for silence. And in its eye sockets, pools of blackness with a single green mote of light, staring at him from the other side of an unimaginable abyss. The end is already here, his dreams said, and he didn't know what it meant or why those little green lights left him shaking and sickly, or why looking at a mushroom later that day gave him an awful since of... not foreboding, exactly. But inevitability.)

"Odd," Peridot said, aloud. "That can't be right..."

Finn tilted his head. A few more stray hairs, so pale in color they were nearly white and strangely ghostly, flickered out from beneath the furry hood he wore. "What is?"

Peridot paused. Finn spoke clearly enough, but the common language of Steven's area was clearly not his first, or even second language, and people usually needed a moment to parse the fast, harsh barks he spoke in. "I'm reading a LOT of magic off you. Last I checked, humans don't have magic in them, so I don't know what's causing it."

"Let me see," said Pearl, sidling over. She and Finn shared a very brief glance. On Pearl's side, it was cordial wariness, and from Finn, there was an evident desire to duel her. "Hmm. I see. Okay, there's a lot of magical energy bound up into your body, which might explain a few things... hmm. There's a lot of it incorporated directly into your organic make-up, and from... your mind, I think?"

"Soul energy," Finn said.

Pearl considered this. "Hrm. Not dissimilar from the natural charge of magic Gems build up, but I've never heard of anything happening with a human."

(Inside, Finn thought of a blue comet, falling from the sky. The equal and opposite to a green comet, heralding death.)

Out loud, Finn just shrugged.

"Hrm," Pearl said again, frowning slightly and indicating she didn't entirely believe him. Finn shrugged again, giving a convincing performance that the inside of his skull was empty space. "Ah! A lot of it is coming from that thing you're carrying. I... oh. Peridot! Look at this, please!"

Peridot leaned over. "What is it? Oh. OH. Ohhh, that is... rather concerning, actually."

Steven peeked at the reader. It was currently outlining the weapon Finn carried, which was so intensely radiant with magical energies that the screen was having difficulty rendering it. "That's... not supposed to happen, is it?"

Peridot shook her head. "That thing is packing more magic than Gem weapons! Which are made FROM magic! What IS that thing?"

Finn awkwardly extended the weapon in question for inspection. "Please be careful with it," he said, more seriously than anyone there had ever seen him. It was an axe; a double-headed axe about the same size as an electric guitar. It was the most unusual weapon Steven had seen, and he wasn't sure it was entirely artificial, or had at least been made by human or Gem. It was strangely organic, made of a red substance not quite crystalline and not quite like dried blood, but some inbetween thing. Not plastic or metal nor stone, as if someone had taken a huge chunk of solidified blood and roughly carved it into shape. It shone like metal, and it was faintly pulsing like a heartbeat. It had apparently been modified to function as a guitar, too, with a complex arrangement of strings and some alterations to the head for sound design.

Finn refused to let it go. It beat, and he breathed it. It beat, and he breathed out.

(He felt the heartbeat of the Abadeer axe.

He closed his eyes.

He thought of teal eyes, dark hair reaching the ground; he thought of a monstrous smile hiding the kindest soul he'd ever known.)

Aloud he said, "I borrowed it, from one of my best friends in the world." His gaze turned imploring. "Please. Be careful with it."

Pearl moved as if to take it, and then she stopped. Her hand wavered, and then lowered itself.

Later, she told Steven; in that moment, she saw a shadow of the same loss she knew, and suddenly she had thought that taking it even for a short time would have been like abandoning a memory of Rose.

Both of them saw Finn breath out a sigh of relief, his apparently instinctive wariness completely dropping. He hugged it to himself, his gaze distant and fixed on a memory.

[hells-sirenqueen]

Queen of the Damned Hell

Rebuilding a Dark Kingdom in the Shadows.

Once Divine Lucifer left her pocket plane, Lilith couldn't help find herself quite excited for the first time in eons. She was finally going to have Lucifer at her side and there was no one, not even God could stop her!

Well he could try, but she knew that Lucifer was dead set on coming back to her. He owed too much of a debt to her to think otherwise.

She promised that there would be a crown and throne prepared for him and she intended to keep that promise.

Stepping out of her bedroom, she snapped her fingers. The abyss that surrounded her realm was lit with torches that gave the darkness a glimpse of life. Going by memory, she used her magic to recreate her palace, using a gothic theme with red and black everywhere.

The grand staircase, the marble foyer, an many more important rooms It wasn't until she got to the throne room that she was creating things on a whim.

She paid special attention to this room. This room would be nearly as big as the ball room. Flags that had a crescent moon and a snake wrapped around the moon was their coat of arms.

Walking further into the room, she created a lovely golden throne for Lucifer and a golden one for her as well. She placed a hand on the back of Lucifer's seat, eyes closing for a moment.

"You were always meant to be at my side, Lucifer. I don't care what your siblings or God have to say about it. You know it too. I can see it in your eyes. Your heart yearns to be accepted and loved. Well, worry not. I offer you something that not even your supposed brotherly love can give you. Intimacy, acceptance as you are and praise until the end of our days." She hummed softly leaning to the side as her magic created a shadow of an outline for a crown she would create for him. The bones she collected from his former wings were the foundation, followed by some gold and onyx minerals. Once they were finished, she had a gold crown with an underlayer of onyx.

Decorated at the front were a pair of wings that were etched into the gold and an eye between the wings. This design was also on either side of the crown to show in memory of his lost wings before he called out to her. The defining act that solidified that she was more important to him than his brothers.

She knew how much he leaned on them, especially on Michael. Oh, well, Lucifer wasn't going to need him once he was at her side.

Lilith would be all that Lucifer would want or need. He had many years to decide whether striking a blade through her heart was worth it or not. If she were to thank Lucifer for anything, it would be for freeing her from her imprisoned mixed body that God trapped her in.

Awakened once more from the cursed gates of Heaven, or what was left of it, she found herself in a better form than she was punished with.

A Queen of the Night, retaining the appearance of a mortal, for a time, but a pair of horns to honor her fallen form. Lilith gave his chair a light pat. It was only a matter of time before his time assisting this cycle was enough. Soon, soon she would have him in her arms and crown her darling as King. Then she wouldn't be so lonely anymore.

Her plan was fool proof.~

ll @themosthatedbeingg ll

[twohundredpower]

He'd prepared himself for this day, over and over again-- a gentle reminder in the back of his head that his life here could change, despite how much he hoped it could be this way forever. Lloyd had watched both friends and family come and go to the island more times than he could count; the time spent together never forgotten, but also never enough. If he could have his most selfish wishes granted, he'd want them to stay, to never leave his side again; even though he knew they all had important things to do back at home. Promises to keep, goals to achieve, lives to live to their fullest.

Kratos was never an exception to that.

And yet, no amount of preparation would be enough to ease the ache in his heart. To still the shock that struck him so fiercely, so coldly that it left him breathless; unable to form any coherent thought as his phone hit the floor of the forge, ripping through the door and out into the Mistwood.

It couldn't be true. Even if the others had left.. Colette, Genis, Emil, Dirk, Anna.. he'd just gotten Kratos back. The years spent together in Spirale were more than he could have ever asked for, but they would never amount to the lifetime Lloyd spent without his father at his side. This was their second chance, wasn't it? Why would it be taken from them so quickly?

But as the brunette reached the cottage, tearing through the entrance without so much as a warning--

The dark interior was enough to keep him silent. Cold shadows on the wall, engulfing the space he once knew to feel so warm. A desperate call then died on the tip of his tongue, as brown eyes stared into the abyss before him.

Hesitantly, he took a step. Looking around corners, peering into his father's bedroom. But all that was left in the house were things he knew that belonged to Martel-- there was not a single trace of Kratos Aurion in this place, as if he had never been there at all.

"..."

But he had been.

But he was.

And nothing could erase that. Not his absence here, not the Stars-- nothing would ever be powerful enough to take Lloyd's memories of their time together here. So long as he stayed, so long as his life continued in this world away from his own.. Lloyd would hold onto that. Close to his heart, to the center of his very being. He would always.. always be..

Grateful. For one more chance to be with him.

Proud. That Kratos got to see him grow, to experience moments of his life that Lloyd would have always wanted him to.

Happy. No matter the strife they experienced together, no matter the trials they were forced to face.. at the end of the day, they were always there for one another. Just like family should be. Like they always had been.

.. but still..

He knew Kratos wouldn't want him to feel this way. It.. was always so painful for the man to see him like this, wasn't it? But despite that, in that moment.. as Lloyd clutched at the front of his jacket, curling into himself--

He felt heartbroken. Shattered, as he eventually allowed himself down on his knees; ducking his head close to his chest.

He couldn't cry. Kratos had always been strong for Lloyd.. so he could be strong for him too, couldn't he? But it was impossible for him to utter any hopeful words like he normally did when someone left; to assure Kratos, even if he wasn't here anymore, that they would meet again one day. That he was happy to have just had a little more time with him, to thank him for all that he'd done.. and promise to remain strong.

No.. he wouldn't cry. But for that one, small moment.. Lloyd would allow himself to be engulfed in his heartbreak; shutting his eyes as he breathed out one, quiet sigh.

"Dad.."

I won't die. I'll live on, for as long as I'm able.

In this world, or in Aselia.. I promise I'll keep living.

Until I can see you again.

Until.. I can see you again.

".. I'm sorry.. I didn't get to say goodbye."

[alcamcat]

James fraternal support

The brothers have a very strong bond and have always tried to support each other, even in the Abyssal Plains. Now that they are in the human world, they are freer in their actions and they continue to help each other even without magic. How does James show his support? A glimpse at how he uses his own skills to help his brothers. (The other brothers get their own scenarios) 

-I don't own the game or the characters-           

Even back in the Abyssal Plains, James was trying to teach his brother Damien to read. However, limited by his own training and the constant supervision of his father and his henchmen, there was little he could do other than read in his mind and hoping his youngest brother would learn from it. Now that no one can break them apart or cut their time together, James likes to use his time to teach his brother how to read and write. He thinks it's important for Damien to learn these skills and is actually a very good teacher. He is patient, understanding and, thanks to his wide-ranging knowledge, can fall back on many tricks and tips, which he is also happy to pass on. Of course, Damien isn't the only brother supported by James. Because even if the relationship between him and his brother Sam is not one of the closest bonds, it is also James who helps Sam as a training partner for his almost daily combat training. Sam has a hard time accepting the new ways of the human world and fighting is one of his ways of dealing with it. And since James is one of the brothers who are definitely strong enough to take on Sam, he regularly offers himself as a sparring partner. Of course, this also has the advantage for him that Sam can work out and become a little calmer and more sociable in general. Just because he helps doesn't mean James can't benefit from it.

"Oh, for the love of God, Sam!" James quickly got to his feet, rubbing his sore side. Even in his demon form, the hit Sam had landed during their training together was so painful that he had to pause for a moment. A luxury he wouldn't have in a real fight, but that was training. It wasn't often that James yielded to his brother's will and trained with him in their true form. The fights that followed were all the harder each time, neither of them wanted to hold back and their physique alone made them significantly stronger than in their human form, even if, as agreed, they didn't use their magic.

"Heh, what’s up with you? It's not like I really hurt you…" Sam crossed his arms loosely and grinned cheekily at his brother. James knew he liked being able to throw a punch at his eldest brother now and then, but that didn't mean James wouldn't do everything in his power to retaliate. And the opportunity arose shortly after as they continued to practice punch sequences and kicks. Sam was quick and very skilled, but James had been preparing for the throne for years, not without success. He knew how to defend himself and also how to corner an attacker, even without magic.

More minutes passed during which the fight remained relatively even. Both attacked, parried and took turns landing hits, although it never seemed really clear which of the two had the upper hand. And while James often teased his brother for overly relying on the brute part of his nature, he knew that Sam was well aware that his eldest brother appreciated his fighting technique.

Also, Matthew and Erik, sitting at the edge of the room and silently watching their brothers' practice match, knew that when it came to fighting, nobody came as close to Sam's strength as James. It had taken James a while to admit to himself that his little brother would probably be superior to him in a real fight, but after a few training fights and some time in a world where he was no longer the one whose life depends on always being the best, he had slowly come to terms with the idea.

Finally, they finished their training. As Sam headed off to shower, James patted him on the shoulder as he passed. And even though Sam only growled at him in reply, he could see the slight smile that crossed the middle brother's features. Words didn't always have to be exchanged to express mutual respect and affection. In the case of Sam, James knew that no matter how many times he rebuked him, the two would bicker over trivialities, the mutual respect was ever-present. And that was something James was clearly proud of.

Five minutes later, James opened the door that led to the kitchen. Damien was already sitting at the kitchen counter bent over a book when James entered and he greeted him with "You shouldn't have done that..." James knew what Damien was talking about. He'd reactivated his spell that made him appear human, knowing how reluctant Damien was to face what they really were. "...but thanks!" As James stopped beside him, Damien looked up from the book with a shy smile.

"All done?" James settled into a chair next to him while Damien pushed the book towards him. "I'm three pages ahead. The trick you showed me yesterday helped. Though I'm really having trouble with this one.” Damien pointed to a set of words that, despite the capitalization, still gave him a headache. James scanned the lines before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. A sympathetic smile spread across his face, he struggled to keep his thoughts kind as optimistic as possible.

"Okay, let's do it then. Remember last week's rules?" James gave his youngest brother a brief moment to recall what they had discussed a few days ago. He could see his brother's face light up as he seemed to realize what James was talking about. For a while James explained various rules to his brother and gave him tips to make his reading and writing tasks easier and Damien listened with interest and inquisitiveness.

But as quickly as the joy had arisen, it was gone just as quickly. James recognized the subtle change in his brother's posture even before he opened his mouth again. "I don't think I can do this..." What followed was a serious conversation between the eldest and the youngest brother in which James made it clear, not for the first time and certainly not for the last time, that he believed in him. That he knew Damien needed time, but that he was sure that sooner or later he would be able to read and write as if he had never known anything else.

Such conversations happened again and again and James would never pass up the opportunity to promote his little brother. And also, to convince himself that he was a good big brother. Because it was in his blood to want to be perfect at everything.

At times James still found it hard that he was no longer the one with armies of demons standing at attention, but he had come to the human world for a reason. He wanted a free life for himself and his brothers. And he would do anything in his power to help them be happy.

[dnangelic]

the rain falls heavy in the outside world , enough for mafuyu's archery meet to have been cancelled , but—-

inside the empty sekai , mafuyu didn't expect to be using dark as target practice – it did quell whatever competitive itch he built up during the day ; instead replaced with impatience . the silence around him intense as he hasn't gotten on a shot on him anywhere , dark tauntingly catching any arrows pointed in his direction . it wasn't meant to be easy , mafuyu knew this , but he couldn't bring himself to stop until he had some kind of win , big or small .

as expected being a phantom thief , perfect from the start — the gloating speech flies over his head as mafuyu prepares another shot : nocking point aligned , string drawn - his posture , maybe a bit hastily prepared — he shoots nonetheless . mafuyu didn't expect anything but it flying off its course , however –- met the pleasant surprise of nicking dark's sleeve . he lets out a deep sigh of relief , unknowingly wearing a content smile on his face afterwards .

@1amsong

and the great phantom thief , of course , makes everything appear as effortless as always . not so much as a bead of sweat or the slightest tremble shifts his relentless grin as the slew of arrows fly towards him , swift as lesser birds , perhaps ; small sparrows to a hawk who could snatch them right out of the air before tossing them back to his company in a generous , yet even more taunting mill .

all this time , he's been laughing and showing his teeth --- mocking not mafuyu but the idea , the very skulking face of something like danger , death even further a concept thrown into some abyss that he tried to rile up for his own thrill . of course , to any ordinary person this sort of thing might have been the very epitome of reckless and ridiculous , but he thinks that it didn't matter either way , not when it was him .

porcelain dolls such as himself made for perfect practice in a dream . even if one of those pointed tips did manage to strike their mark , then he'd only break rather than bleed , separated from his host for just this occasion . moreover he still remained unfathomably , insurmountably arrogant , confident in his own perpetually unmatched and unmet instincts rather than anything like a lack of mafuyu's ranging skill .

--- such is also rightly why he succumbs .

his head throws backwards and he tosses his bangs , minding his posture and verbal theatrics 'til he hears the other's final shot sing . lithe muscles move on instinct even now , and yet while it spares the broader target of his torso , he still feels the rough snatch and firm pull at his sleeve . silence and an expression of mild surprise meets the shot end when he lifts it , the arrow heavying his punctured cloth like a fresh , ugly accessory .

mafuyu's growing smile is plainly visible from beyond the small rip . moments later , it tears and deposits the winning arrow with a soft clatter onto the ground . like this , their faces both exposed bare between the result of mafuyu's success , dark's own curl soon enough mirrors his company's , something in him finding it difficult not to feel equally content .

nothing's been wounded ; neither his pride nor his make-believe flesh . despite the one being shot at he slowly approaches , returning the final arrow before letting a frigid hand pat itself blithely on the top of the other's head . ' nice shot . really good shot , ' he softly says , and he thinks to himself as he submits sublimely to this moment , wondering if mafuyu could realize it ---

it wasn't just him for getting careless and cocky , presuming things he shouldn't have , but mafuyu as well --- refusing to give up no matter how hopeless or frustrating things , even something menial and meant for play like this , had been . ' if you handle the worst things in life like that , too ... well , you just might be able to make it anywhere . '

[crackinglamb]

WIP Wednesday Whenever

Tagged by @noire-pandora, thank you! 💕

Tagging @mogwaei, @bdafic, @shretl, @lilbittymonster, @ir0n-angel and @fiadhaisteach. No pressure!

I've reached the penultimate arc of WG, y'all. I'm both excited and overwhelmed to finally get to this point in the writing. From the very earliest parts of the draft (now going on two years old, holy crap), I knew I wanted the main storyline to end this way. Now all I have to do is not fall apart in the middle of it.

Imogen has reached the Western Approach...

(Under a cut for mention of dead bodies and Blight related existential dread. I've been told this scene is very evocative.)

---

In the distance the heat made the black patches shimmer and waver, but she could still find the places where the dead lay, desiccated into grotesque postures where they'd fallen. Their armor and weapons were as shiny and sharp as the day they died, nearly a thousand years ago. She remembered reading somewhere that the Second Blight had so thoroughly ravaged the Approach that the dead didn't even decompose, because nothing survived, not even bacteria. It was why this region was now a desert, in fact, although she had other theories on that, considering the rest of Thedas seemed to bounce back well enough from the Blights.

Mythal killed a Titan, she thought. Was this where it was when it lived? Is this why they call it the Abyss? The Void? For sure no one knows what lies at the bottom of this trench other than darkspawn.

She couldn't look away from the scene in front of her. No carrion birds flew overhead, nothing moved, it was silent enough to hear the sibilant whisper of sand on sand. There wasn't even a smell. Or at least, there wasn't the smell she would expect from such a battlefield. The back of her throat closed up, reminding her of how the air tasted and felt in the future Redcliffe. She'd thought then that it was because of the red lyrium. But no, it was the Blight that made each breath itch in her lungs.

The others caught up and Stroud dismounted next to her, looking at the other side of the canyon, his expression both bleak and knowing. He glanced at her in the saddle for a moment before his eyes returned inexorably to the vista. “You have the look of one who has never seen such a thing, Inquisitor.”

“I...haven't. There's really no way to prepare for it. Knowing isn't the same as seeing.”

“I suppose that is true.” His lilting voice seemed out of place, too gentle and soft for such a grisly location. “It is little comfort to know that this is victory.”

“Yeah...”

“Come, Inquisitor, let us make sure this ritual site is as empty as it should be, and then we can leave this place.”

Imogen watched him turn away from the view as if he was struggling to do it. She wondered how the physical presence of so much Blight affected him, a Warden who'd served long enough that his Calling could have been real. She turned Squirrel away and her gaze landed on Hawke, watching them from the meager shade of the tall stone columns that marked the site. Elly's eyes were sympathetic when they met hers as she dismounted.

“You all right, Genny?”

“Yeah, just...a little overwhelmed.”

“C'mon, the sooner we check this out, the sooner we can leave.”

“That's what Stroud said too.”

Hawke scoffed. “At last we agree on something.”

The trio walked along the bridge that suspended the ritual tower over the edge of the Reach. The site stood on a spur of rock that seemed to simply hang in the air. Imogen was sure that was an illusion, though. The ground itself was simply so saturated with the Blight that it absorbed all the light that shone on it. There was a lingering feeling of wrongness about the place, but it was empty and sand-swept. There was no blood, no demons, no Venatori. As she'd hoped.

Hawke shuddered. “This place is fucking awful.”

[nicklloydnow]

“"I can't smoke with clothes on," Eva declared.

She got up and slid her dress over her head. Then she pulled off her slip, her garter belt, her stockings. She was completely naked, a magnificent, bloodless plaster body.

Alain emitted a long sardonic laugh. Never had he had so exact a sense of his own impotence. For him, the world was peopled only with empty forms. It was enough to make you scream, it was enough to make you die.

Little Falet, preparing a pipe, tried to catch Alain's eye. Eva, who had no more belief in other people's desires than in her own, wrapped herself in the blanket without even looking at Alain, he turned to Falet.

The little creature's expectant grin suddenly relaxed; he pointed to a cupboard.

Drugs were everything, there was no use trying to get away from them, the world was drugs.

Alain opened the cupboard and took out a vial. Then he removed from his pocket the syringe he had brought from Doctor de la Barbinais's. He filled it with heroin, rolled up his sleeve, and stuck the needle into his arm.

He kept his back to them for a moment, staring at the wall. Then he was done, it wasn't difficult. Acts are fast, life is over quickly; soon comes the time of consequences, the time of the irreparable.

Already his immediate past seemed incredible. Had he really dreamed of curing himself? Had he really shut himself up in those abominable sanitariums? Had he sent Dorothy a telegram? Had he held Lydia in his arms?

He turned around to take a good look at Eva Canning: beauty, life were made of plaster. Everything was simple; everything was finished. Or rather, there had been no beginning, there would be no end. There was only this moment, eternity. There was nothing else, absolutely nothing else. There was nothingness.

Eva sucked on the pipe Falet had prepared for her; then she rolled over in the blanket, exhaling a little smoke. One of her hard, polished shoulders shone gold in the light from the little lamp. This fragment of a broken statue rolled across a desert, lay in the bosom of a warm and soothing abyss.

The waves multiplied and broke one over the other: Alain was not returning to drugs; he had never left them. That's all it was, but it was that. It was of absolutely no interest, but neither was life. Drugs were only life, but they were life. Intensity destroying itself proves that everything is the same as everything else. There is no intelligence because there is nothing to understand, there is only certainty.

Suicide? Why bother, life and death are the same thing. From the point of view of eternity where I am now, where I've always been, where I'll always be.

The proof that life and death are the same thing is that I'm walking up and down in this room and that I'm going to telephone Praline, because I go on as if nothing had happened, while in fact nothing has happened.” (p. 111 - 113)