#i feel all my love for you rotting inside me and eating me alive

[avpdspirit]

I have talks with Jesus where I tell Him I'm sorry for being so disappointing. I tell Him that I'm sorry for not being able to fight for my life, that I'm sorry for giving up. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and I want to rest. God, I'm sorry. You've put beautiful people in my life, yet the one I needed most passed away just when I thought I had my life together. It's been 7 months during which I've kept myself occupied with work, but I can't ignore the elephant in the room any longer. My Enzo's life was what kept me going, and now I find myself running in circles. I'm waiting for Your visit in my sleep, to tell me that You've made the decision to end this pain that makes it hard to breathe, for You to assure me that I'll join my friend in the afterlife.

You knew how much I loved him.

Please, I've been begging for this since I was young, and I can't bear it any longer. I don't want to keep breathing. Jesus, please make it stop forever. Make my heart stop beating.

[moonstruckme]

Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍

Yes! Thank you for reading <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words

“Honey, I’m home!” 

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—

“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 

You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 

He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 

“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 

James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 

“How would it be your fault?” 

“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 

You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 

“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 

“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 

“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 

You blink. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 

“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 

“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 

You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 

You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 

His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 

“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 

A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 

“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 

You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 

Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 

But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 

“I might,” you say. 

“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.

[rainychaoloveshack]

May I request Shadow or mobian!reader in a time loop. One of them is stuck, the other is blissfully unaware and won’t remember every time it’s reset. You can pick who is stuck! They are Asking for help and then the other giving a sudden smooch? Maybe more… than a smooch? Little heated if you so desire. They’re not yet together, or aware of the other persons feelings until that little kiss. After the loop is fixed, it’s awkward cause the one that was stuck in the loop knows. Like what’s the aftermath shsosnszk

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

you’ll love shadow even after every reset possible. no matter what.

⋆°•☁︎ content . shadow x gn!reader, angst to light fluff, friends to lovers, slight suggestive material warning. light mention of not eating/drinking for days, implied depression.

☂︎ wc. 1.6k ☂︎ a/n. i loved this request sm. like this one just spoke to my angsty soul. might be the longest thing here yet; sorry its too long ^^’ srry this took a while! i was flip flopping on who i wanted to be stuck ^^’

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

Two hundred and thirty-six days. That's how many times you’ve watched the clock strike twelve exactly on Saturday, signaling to you the day had started over again. Never to watch the next day pass. Forced to live everyday like its a new one, yet still subject to HIS charming nature, even if he’s so stubborn in the way he shows his affection towards you.

You try your best to switch up the routines as you go nowadays, trying to excite your life, yet nothing ever works. The clock strikes twelve as it always does. At this point, it’s become numb; infuriatingly so. Some days you’ll gain that motivation back to try something different, whether it be surrounding yourself with new people to serve as a distraction, or trying to dig deeper into the cause of your time loop, to no avail. And other days you rot inside your room, staring at the clock on the wall, watching it tick. And tick. And tick, until it hits twelve again.

Some days you’ll forget to eat and drink, sometimes on purpose, first finding comfort in that pitting feeling in your stomach, finally feeling something after so long, but soon falling numb to that feeling too.

The only reason you have the strength to keep going is the belief that you’ll see your friends again. No matter what. In your timeline, without any interference.

Nothing changed today. Another day wasted, yet someone raps on your door sharply, forcing you to open your eyes gently and utter a small ‘okay’ to let them in.

… This hasn’t happened before. Why is he here?

“You’ve been stuck in here all day.” Shadow grumbles as he pushes your door open, the door squeaking on its hinges, with the moonlight already shining through your blowing curtains. “Have you even gotten out of bed today?” He says sternly, walking over to your bedside and nudging you, causing you to stir out of your resting state. You had already given up for today, so the plan was to just fall asleep until tomorrow.

‘Tomorrow’... What a dream tomorrow is to you.

Turning over, you meet his crimson eyes with a dull sigh leaving your lips, briefly glancing over to the clock set on the wall.

10:35 PM. It’s almost twelve. One more hour. One and a half.

He shifts his weight to one of his feet, setting a hand on his hip as he growls down at you. “No one saw you today, so Sonic told me to go and check on you. Especially since it’s this late and you’ve been missing for all of today.” He scoffs, clearly aggravated at your lack of energy or action. “You couldn’t at least tell one person that you 're going to stay inside all day?” Your blankets drop down to your lap as you sit up slowly, peering up at him through the blurry haze of your mind.

“At least I know you’re alive.” He says, walking over to your covered window to peel the curtains back, letting the moonlight illuminate your room with a soft, white glow. “Come on.” Shadow sits across from you on the bed, tugging the blankets away from you to encourage you to get up.

Why is he so persistent? Why can’t he just leave you alone? But even then, he’s still so…

Lovely.

Suddenly, tears prick and poke at the back of your eyes, welling up to the corners as they threaten to spill out and drip down your cheeks. Shadow stares at you as you hang your head low, refusing to meet his gaze as you try to shove that feeling away, despising that feeling of your throat tightening, even if you’ve begged to feel something other than despair for the longest time.

Of course. He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s still so charming…

“[Name]?” His hand presses against your calf under the blanket, slightly leaning forward to see the tears fall on your face, your shoulders trembling. “Wh-What’s wrong? Is it me?” A tremble flows through his hand; barely noticeable to someone who wouldn’t be paying attention to such a small detail. “[Name], tell me what’s wrong. Why’re you crying so suddenly?” Shadow murmurs, grabbing you by your shoulders to try to ease your worries.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him you’ve been living every day hoping it’s the last one. Praying to be ripped from this curse. Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him

“What?” Shadow’s ear flicks in an odd manner, clearly confused at your sudden declaration. “I’m sorry? … Time-looping?”

And so you shatter. Break in front of his eyes; incessant ramblings about you feel like you’re going insane, yet the only thing to bring you back down to earth is getting to see him everyday on this agonizing, pitiful day. 

Something in his heart really does want to believe in you, truly. Although disbelief stands present in his head, he’ll reach out to you anyway. No matter what.

“[Name].” he utters your name, his gloved hand grazing your cheek to wipe a stray tear away. “I…” Shadow stares into your eyes, trying to fight back the shock from showing on his face. His hands twitch as he reaches out for yours, grazing the back of your palm. “If you really think that you’re… Looping; then I believe you. I promise.”

What?

This is different. New. Two hundred and thirty-six times. Never had something like this happened before. Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six days. Five thousand six hundred and sixty-four hours. 

It feels like your head is going to split into two, pulled and ripped apart by the hour and minute hand. It’s agonizing. But it’s something.

“[Name].” Shadow tilts your head up from your chin to face him. “I…” It looks like he’s at a loss for words, not that you blame him. 

“Come here.” He says softly, beckoning you closer to him with two fingers. What in the world does he want? Even though you ask multiple questions in your head, you lean in closer anyway to-

Huh?

His lips brush against yours, and it’s slow but sweet; still hesitant before he presses them further onto you, nipping at your bottom lip, almost desperate for something more. Deeper. Deeper. Even more so.

“[Name],” he growls in between pants, his voice trembling at the end of your name. “[Name], [Name], [Name], [Name]...” Shadow keeps on saying in between your kisses and breaths for air, almost like a record constantly on repeat. His palms press into your shoulders, pinning you down on the bed, as he leans over your trembling form. His eyes dart to the clock hanging on the wall, before looking back at you, cupping one of your cheeks.

He really feels the same way about you? He does? Your head subconsciously leans into his touch, pressing your face against his hand, desperately wanting- No. You have to feel the warmth coming from him.

“I’ll use whatever time I have left to spend it here with you. Even once it hits twelve; you have my word.” He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again…

Your head's pounding, the blankets laying heavy on your body this morning. Strangely heavy. Ugh. The mental toll of last night might be hitting you already, even if it’s another reset.

Wait, no, it’s not the blanket. If it’s not the blanket, it’s…

“How’re you feeling?” Shadow murmurs, raising his head off your chest to look at you directly. It’s really nerve-racking… But not in a bad way, somehow. “Are you sore anywhere?”

His question makes you cock your head to the side in confusion. Sore? Why would you be-

No. More importantly, what in the world is he doing in your bed? The day starts with your alarm ringing, but it hasn’t done so at all. In fact, it’s later than you would usually wake up; the clock’s hands say so.

Wait. So it’s really Sunday? Is it?!

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Shadow chuckles softly at your bewildered face, opening his mouth again to respond, but your arms toss around him, bear-hugging his body tight against yours.

“Ah, okay, okay, you’re happy; I get it…” Shadow grumbles, starting to pull away from you, but the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes makes him stop his protesting movements immediately, reaching up to wipe them away. “Oh come on, don’t start crying again.”

… Again? 

Your happy sobs are cut short by your own shock; this morning is getting both happier and weirder by the second. Again? So that means he knows it all? Everything?

A rare smile spreads across his muzzle, his eyes staring thoughtfully into yours. “Two hundred and thirty-six times…” Shadow starts, brushing his hand across your shoulder, and your face heats up gradually at the mention of the number coming from him. “So you really were telling the truth.”

You never told him that number. No way. Shouldn’t it just be like another reset?! Did he really remember your breakdown? No way, no way…

“When you mentioned the loop, something was telling me you were right, even if it sounded absurd.” He says, pausing his thoughts to think a bit harder about the situation. During this, he lifts himself off your body to sit at the edge of your bed, stretching his arms out in front of him. “I just…” He mumbles, his voice softening with his own strange embarrassment. “If it was really a time loop like you said, I wanted to try something I knew I wouldn’t regret.”

All time stuff aside, something else is nagging at your mind…

Did you two really do all that stuff last night?

Shadow peers over at you, before turning his head away; surely holding back some laughter by the way his shoulders shake, cupping his hand over his mouth.

“It’s nothing; don’t worry about it, then.”

(the set-up took longer than i thought it would, sorry for the yapping…)

[graveyardgremlins]

WIP ALERT WIP ALERT

What makes death so special that everyone seems so scared to talk about it? It is not as if, in this universe, it’s the end of the line. Not really. If anything, it felt more like the beginning of something.

Now, routine feels like the end of it all. Even when you’re a vigilante and everyday is a surprise, it still feels like slowly withering away. Like, if you stop moving you’re going to start rotting on the spot. But for some reason, people love routine and hate death.

Dick, for example, constantly looks terrified. It’s not obvious, as no feeling in our faces is ever obvious, but I can tell it’s there. He once said, mournfully, that we would bury Bruce like he is now, with jet black hair. The thought upset him, but I still don’t understand why. It’s not as if Bruce cares. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to speed up the process.

And sure, it would suck not to be able to see someone you care about ever again. But if Dick truly is so scared of missing Bruce, he can go knocking on Constantine’s door — or Zatanna’s, or Madame Xanadu’s, or Doctor Fate’s, or Jason Blood’s, or… you get my point — and ask for a seance. Besides, it’s not as if you can say the guy wasted his life. No one on this Earth has more accomplishments under his belt than Batman himself.

So why the long face?

Like, sure I get why they look weird every time I bring up my past death. I was a kid and all that. But they seriously need to stop looking at me like I’m planning to kill myself everytime I bring up my future death. I’m not planning to die any time soon, but what if I do? Are they going to lose their shit again?

I mean, Tim literally cloned his best friend as a manner to bring him back from the dead because he couldn’t cope with him being gone. Not to say I’m terribly worried about the Imposter missing me so much as to clone me, but still. What if I die? Are they going to try to bring me back? Because I don’t think I want that.

Death was easy, you know? It was awful up until the point where it wasn’t. I don’t remember much, but I remember being warm and embraced. And then someone dragged me back screaming and kicking. Then I woke up boiling alive, with the skin falling off my bones in the middle of the Assassin’s League Headquarters.

I’m not particularly excited about being boiled alive again.

No one in this family knows how to let go and Bruce is the worst one. I used to be so mad that his grief wasn’t enough to make him kill the Joker. I wanted him to prove that he loved me like he said he did. But I was a recently deceased and resurrected teenager. I firmly believe that the only reason Jesus reacted better to being murdered is because he was already thirty three. Now, as an adult, I’m less mad.

Bruce deals with grief like this: he doesn’t. He lets it eat him away. I think he likes it, the feeling of rotting from the inside out. Maybe that’s why he likes routine too. I think he has a lot of love inside of him that, instead of showing it, he reschedules it. Like he thinks “tomorrow I’ll show it” and then never does. And when I died, maybe he didn’t have anywhere to put that love anymore. There wouldn’t be any more “tomorrows.” So he just rotted.

It’s why I try not to be jealous about how endlessly patient and affectionate he is with Damian. Or how careful he is with Tim. Or how much interest he takes in everything Duke does. Or how he always listens when Steph talks. Or how he always comes when Cass calls him. At least, I served to teach him a lesson. 

So, yeah, when I got an invitation to a Ghost Ball, I didn’t tell anyone. Because they don’t understand why I linger in the cemetery. They don’t understand why I kill, when they believe I should be the first one to be against death. They don’t understand why I keep talking about dying over and over and over. They just don’t get it.

Also, they would totally ruin this moment for me. I’m sure of it.

How many times do you get invited to a ball? Not those shitass galas the Waynes always go to. A real authentic 1800’s ball. With the lettering cursive invitation, sprayed with some kind of perfume, sealed with a gold wax coat of arms. Not only that! To what was an official celebration to the Ghost King’s 21th birthday.

I didn’t even know there was a Ghost King!

Sure, it’s probably a trap. This kind of thing is always a trap. But they had addressed the invitation to “The Red Knight of Gotham, Avenger of the Damned, Cursebreaker, Three Times Born, Wielder of the All-Blades, the Darkest Star” and, if I am to be honest, flattery will get you everywhere with me.

I’m not entirely sure what the “Darkest Star” was in reference to, but it’s the least of my concern. The theme of the ball was Black, White and Neon Green, which completely fucks up my aesthetic. The last time I wore green I was a Robin and I’m particularly inclined to never wear it again. I’m also not wearing a tuxedo. Maybe a black suit over the armor instead of the usual jacket and a neon green handkerchief.

Now the problem is getting fitted for a suit like that. Every rich motherfucker knows that just sending your measurements to a tailor that never met you in person before is the recipe for a disaster. And sure as hell there is not a single tailor in the Crime Alley. Not that I know of. And there is no way in hell, or heaven or wherever the flying fuck the Infinity Realms were, I’m showing up to a real ball looking anything short of dreamy.

So, I did the reasonable thing and texted Alfred.

If you could come by the Manor, Master Jason, I will see what can be done. He texted back.

There is a theory going around the midst of superheroes that says that the one thing all of the bats have in common is how stubborn we are. It’s true, but I don’t think we learned that from Bruce. I’m pretty sure that’s just the Pennyworth in all of us. That man clearly only still works as a butler at 65 and calls us all “master”, “miss”, “mister” and “ma’am” out of pure stubbornness. I have no evidence of this, but I’m working on the theory that someone at some point betted that he would crack eventually, which is why he hasn’t. That I know of.

So, I showed up at the Manor like he asked me to.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asked.

“I live here,” I answered.

“No, you don’t.”

“Unless someone touched my room, which I doubt, then yes, I do.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Last week. I dropped by to move all your furniture 1 inch to the left counterclockwise.”

“I knew it! I knew someone was touching my stuff! Steph said I was crazy!”

“You are, but I touched your stuff. Like all of it. Including your Monster collection. You should really clean that, by the way. It’s disgusting.”

“Fuck you.”

Someone cleaned their throat and we both turned around to see Alfred standing in the hallway, looking less than impressed. I’m pretty sure we learned that from him too.

“Sorry, Alfred,” Tim said.

Alfred sighed and then turned his frown towards me.

“What? I didn’t curse.”

He raised one pointed eyebrow and that’s all it took.

“Sorry for touching your stuff, Timberlake,” I said and turned to Alfred again. “Happy?”

“I suppose that will suffice.”

“Yeah, fine,” Tim agreed and moved out of the way to let me in. “Just never do it again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing it again.”

“Why?!”

“Dick told me to stop whining and start getting on that, and I quote, ‘big brother grind’, so you and the Demon brat are going to have to endure it.”

“Why not Duke?”

“He is obviously my favorite.”

Tim just groaned and followed us to one of the upstairs closet.

“What are we doing anyway?”

“We are doing nothing. You weren’t invited.”

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit,” Alfred said, ignoring me.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“What are you? A Toddler? Why do you think?”

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to the galas—”

“Damn right, I won’t.”

“And you’re definitely not going on a date—”

“Wait, why?”

“Because.”

I turned around to fully face him. “What do you mean ‘because’?”

“Just because,” Tim made a vague gesture with his hand. “You know.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t know.”

“You know,” He gestured again. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“You’re chronically single.”

“What?!”

Tim threw himself on one of the sofas that was turned towards the closet and sank into it. “Chronically single. Chronically, meaning in a persistent and recurring—”

“I know what chronically single means!”

“Then you know.”

“I’m not chronically single!”

“How long ago was your last relationship and how long did it last?”

“That does not mean I’m chronically single! I get bitches all the time!”

“Perhaps, Master Jason, refraining from referring to your partners in a demeaning manner might be the first step to improving your romantic aptitudes.”

“I don’t– I’m not– Ugh!”

“Try this suit on. I think it will be the closest to your current measurements.”

I took the suit from his hand and closed the closet door behind me.

“So,” Tim said, “If you’re not going to a gala, you’re not going to a date, then where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s not a birthday, because I’m pretty sure none of your friends is an Aquarius–”

He kept talking and I tuned him out. The pants were a bit too tight around the knees, so they would have to fix that, and the jacket sleeves were a little too short. Besides that, I liked the red lining inside, as well as the flower pattern that almost disappeared into the black. It wasn’t very on the theme, and I would risk looking a bit christmassy, but it would be worth it. I did need a neon green handkerchief, though.

“It can’t be Two-Face, because he is still in Arkham and also not your usual target. Black Mask has been quiet, so maybe him,” Tim was, somehow, still talking.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, opening the closet door to let Alfred take a look.

“People you might be planning to make a move against in a place where a suit might be necessary.”

“Maybe I just want a suit, ever thought of that?”

“You’re fitting it over armor,” Tim pointed out.

“Touché.”

“Tt, it’s too tight around your knees,” Alfred commented.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Oh, Alfred? Do you by any chance have a neon green handkerchief?”

Alfred made a face. “I do not own any monstrosity of that sort, Master Jason. Why do you ask?”

“Because the theme is Black, White and Neon Green.”

“Wait, you’re actually crashing a party?”

Alfred sighed and made another disgusted face. “In that case… This suit won’t do.”

“Sorry, Alfred. I didn’t write the dress code.”

“Of course not, Master Jason. I would expect that you would have a better sense for fashion than that.”

“And for your information, I’m not crashing a party. I was invited. Not that you know what that’s like, Stalker.”

“Who would invite you to anything?!”

“Not telling.”

“C’mon!”

“Perhaps the Zegna will look less… clown-like with a neon green handkerchief than the Armani,” Alfred said, mostly to himself.

“Did I hear, Armani?” Selina’s honey-dripping voice came from the corridor, and she poked her head inside the room. “What are you boys doing hiding here?”

“I’m getting fitted for a suit.”

“He is going to a party and I’m trying to figure out which one,” Tim answered at the same time as me.

“Oh! That sounds fun! Do you need help, Alfred?” She asked and slid into the sofa next to Tim.

“I’m afraid I am at a loss, Miss Kyle. The theme of the evening is Black, White and, ugh, Neon Green.”

She made a face very much like Alfred’s own. “Where are you going, Kit Kat? The Riddler’s birthday isn’t until July.”

“Not telling you, either.”

She pouted and pulled Tim’s face near her own, he understood what she was doing a minute later and pouted too. “Please?” They said, like children.

“Nope. Not happening.”

Selina shrugged it off, not particularly bothered, but Tim seemed to still be fixated on the issue. 

“Have you tried that Slim-fit Hugo Boss brown suit, Alfred? I think it will make him look distinguished amongst the neon green aberration,” she said.

“Is it a winter party of some kind?” Tim asked.

“Not giving you any tips, Timmy.”

“Actually, Master Jason, that could help us find a better suit.”

I sighed. “I don’t think it is specifically a winter party. I think it's just a coincidence.”

“So it is a celebration of some kind!”

“I’m. Not. Telling. You.”

“No need. I will find out eventually.”

Alfred brought out the Hugo Boss brown suit and held it up for Selina to see. 

“I think it will clash, Miss Kyle,” he said.

“I think you’re right, Alfred,” She tapped one manicured finger to her lips. “This party is not of someone we know. Is it, Kit Kat?”

I shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Selina?” Tim asked.

“Motherly instincts.”

The door behind them opened again, this time to reveal a mildly disgruntled looking Bruce. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a sweater and sweatpants. He was definitely sick.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Are you sick, old man?”

He sniffed. “Seasonal allergies.”

“Jason is getting fitted for a suit,” Selina answered.

“Oh?”

“And I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh.”

“You guys are nosy,” I said.

Alfred brought out another slim-fit suit and both Selina and Bruce made a face. “Yes, I imagined so,” Alfred said, disappointed.

“What kind of party is it, chum?”

“Not telling.”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green,” Selina said, and both her, Alfred and Bruce grimaced.

“Jason, please tell me you’re not going to the Riddler’s birthday party.”

“Of course, he isn’t, silly. The Riddler’s birthday is July 21st.”

“Oh! Should I send a present?”

“It would be very polite,” Alfred said and Selina agreed.

“If this party is of someone we don’t know then it must be someone you met recently or a very long time ago. But if it was from someone you used to know, you probably wouldn’t be using an expensive suit, and if it was someone new we would have heard of it already,” Tim said.

“What makes you think it is someone we don’t know?” Bruce asked.

Selina raised her hand with a cheeky smile. “If we knew them already, little Kit Kat wouldn’t be so worried about imprrrressing them. We would have embarrassed him already.”

“I’m not worried about impressing anyone.”

“You’re getting fitted for a suit,” she pointed out.

“Yes, because I outgrew all my other suits and I can’t wear them with the armor. It’s not as if I’m buying a new one,” I rolled my eyes.

“If you’re wearing your armor are you worried about being attacked?” Bruce asked.

“Is it a mission then?” Tim asked. “Otherwise, why would you be going to a place where you might be attacked?”

“Good point, champ.”

“I’m not answering any of those questions.”

Bruce pondered for a second. “Have you tried the gray Kiton wool suit? It might null a bit of the neon green.”

“Ooh. Good idea, love.”

“Let’s see if you’re correct, Master Bruce.”

“I’m texting Dick to see if he knows anything.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Father, have you seen Alfred Jr?” Damian’s voice rang from the corridor.

“Not really, Dami.”

“He is probably in that warm spot in the library where the sun hits just right,” Selina said and stretched as if she could feel the warmth from here.

“Thank you, miss Kyle,” Damian poked his head inside. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome, Damian.”

“I live here.”

“Do you?” Bruce asked.

“Do you?” Damian asked, fully walking into the room.

You see? This is why I can’t tell them anything about this ball. Or else they will want to come with, they are nosy like that, I’d have to explain to every cute person I meet why I brought my entire family with me when the invitation didn’t even have ‘plus one’ on it.

Jesus, maybe Selina was right.

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit, Master Damian,” Alfred said and held the gray wool suit.

“Yeah, that doesn’t do it either,” Selina said.

“What is wrong with the suit?”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green.” Everyone grimaced at that. They really needed to stop repeating the same thing over and over.

“What is the occasion?”

“Kit Kat won’t tell us.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve talked to Dick!” Tim announced. “He has no idea who could be, but his best guest is someone Jason met with the Outlaws! So I’m going to text Cass, so she can text Artemis and see if she was invited to anything.”

Damian sat on the opposite arm of the sofa and pondered.

“How much have you narrowed it down?”

“Someone we don’t know, someone dangerous, possibly on a mission, not a winter party,” Bruce said.

“Birthday?”

“No gift.”

“Maybe it’s someone I don’t know enough to buy a gift to,” I said, just to throw them off.

The three of them narrowed their eyes at me.

“Yup, talked to Artemis. She doesn’t know anything,” Tim said. “Also Dick is calling.”

He put it on speaker so everyone could suffer together.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, chum.”

“Hello.”

“Hey, birdie.”

“Sup?”

“Jesus Christ,” I rubbed my temples. I could feel a migraine coming up.

“Jason! The man, the myth, the legend! Will you tell your big bro where exactly you’re going? I promise to keep it a secret.”

“Not even on your deathbed.”

Alfred brought out another suit. It was also gray and it still did not match neon green.

“C’mon, Little Wing! Don’t be like that! It can be that bad for us to know.”

“It’s out of principle.”

“That reminds me,” Tim said. “Dick, go screw yourself.”

Alfred made a face at that, but didn’t comment anything.

“Wait, why? What did I do?”

“Why did you tell Jason to ‘act like a big brother’? He touched all of my stuff!”

“I’m sure he didn’t touch all of it.”

“Oh, I didn’t look under the bed, but besides that? It will be very funny when you start finding the glitter.”

“What?!”

“Ah, is that why Jon found a lot of superboy merch I did not buy in my closet?” Damian asked. “Well, I must say that is not a good prank. I’m not embarrassed to say I’m my best friend’s biggest fan. Though, he did cry.”

“You say that now, because you haven’t found the bees.”

“What bees?”

I simply smiled. This wouldn’t work on most of my siblings, but Damian was small enough to be fooled and once he believed it, the others would follow.

“I swear to God, Jason. If I find glitter on my clothes I’m putting a skunk inside your house,” Tim said.

There was also no glitter, but now he would check everything first. Forever.

“Why would you do that to a poor innocent animal?” I said, to be contrary.

“Yeah, Tim. Leave the animals alone! It’s not their fault Little Wing started a prank war.”

“Yes, Drake. I’m disappointed you’d even think about this.”

Alfred brought out a deep blue suit. Selina sighed and slumped down the sofa and Bruce shook his head.

“Hey, Dick,” I asked. “Do you have any suits that might fit me and that will look good with neon green?”

“Why do you ask? Don’t tell me Poison Ivy is your plus one.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Poison Ivy is light green, not neon,” Tim said.

“And Ivy is too old for you,” Bruce said, pointedly. I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t think I’d have anything either way.”

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered, perhaps the color neon green or perhaps Poison Ivy.

“I figured it out!” Damian shouted suddenly. Selina flinched from the noise, and he apologized quickly. “Sorry. But I have figured it out.”

“What?” Everyone asked. I wasn’t particularly worried, it’s very hard for the little brat to have known about a King I wasn’t even aware of. Though, maybe Ra’s did know it before me.

“Regular-fit Dark Grey Virgin Wool Serge from Hugo Boss,” Damian said profoundly.

“What?” Tim asked.

“The suit that will go with neon green.”

Alfred, Selina and Bruce thought it out. “Yes, I believe that might work, Master Damian.”

“Good job, son,” Bruce said, making my insides twist painfully.

Selina simply raised her hand over Tim’s head so Damian could high five her.

“That still doesn’t answer where he is going!”

“Who would do a Neon Green party? Besides the Riddler, his birthday isn’t until July.”

“How do you even– No, actually, I don’t want to know. Thanks for the help, Demon Brat.”

“You’re welcome. Now tell us where you’re going.”

Fair enough. “To a birthday party,”

“Goddammit! It was the first thing I crossed off!”

“Of whom?”

“None of your business, old man.”

“C’mon, tell us Little Wing.”

“What are we trying to find out?” Duke asked, walking into the room. “And why is everyone here?”

“Jason is going to a birthday party and he won’t tell us who's is jt,” Tim said.

“Oh?”

“And I’m getting a suit fitted.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell you whose birthday it is later.”

“Hey!”

“Wait, why?”

“Yes, why him?”

“Oh, Duke is my favorite.”

Duke smiled innocently at all the people in the room and did a little twirl.

“That’s not fair!”

“Hey, this is your fault. You told me to be an older sibling.”

“Older siblings don’t pick favorites!”

“Of course they do. Damian is your favorite, I’m Cass’ favorite, Duke is my favorite, and Tim is no one’s favorite.”

“Screw you!”

“Don’t worry. When Bruce adopts another one you can be their favorite.”

“I’m not adopting anyone.”

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at that — yet another thing they got from Alfred — and Selina patted his hand. “Whatever you say, love.”

Alfred fitted the suit perfectly, to the point where that one guy on twitter that talks about male clothing would applaud. And he did find a neon green handkerchief, though he would only buy it if I promised to burn it afterwards, which I swiftly agreed to. I considered bringing a present, but something I learned from the filthy rich is that it’s always better to look like an asshole rather than a fool.

And so the suit saga ends and the ball saga begins.

One would think that an interdimensional being called the Ghost King would think of better ways to direct his guests towards his party than a set of coordinates and another number, which I quickly realized to be the hour in military time. Of course, one would be wrong. So me, my bike, my beautiful suit and my weapons directed ourselves to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, literally in the middle of Nevada's desert.

God, I am going to arrive at this party covered in sand.

[rockatnothing]

Season three of From has got me screaming, crying and throwing up!! I love it!!

Here's a bunch of random thoughts I have from episode five 🐦‍⬛ ngl I don't remember any character names so forgive that please lol

I'm theorizing that Fatima is being turned into one of the monsters. She was eating rot and was drinking Nicky's blood. Plus, she couldn't get into the colony house in a previous ep. I'm thinking the eating rot might reflect whatever happened inside the monsters to make their internal organs dry up. Honestly, I think all of the monsters were at some point human and then got turned. I think there was a mass turning sometime in the 60s because of the monsters based on their costume design. Perhaps they figured out how to kill all their monsters but as a trade off they got turned. The life Fatima could be holding is the birth of a new monstrosity.

The town and everything feels like an escape room to me. There are rules the world follows and things get more intense when the people find something new. Like with the phone/radio. There was a man in S1 Jim talked to and now we're talking to Thomas. If all of this was meant to destroy the people then why have someone warn them about Tabitha digging or returning. This world works in a specific way where there are ways to solve the horrible mysteries and active various entities helping the people.

Which reminds me of the whole thing with Tabitha and Victor's mom. It feels crazy how deliberate the town picks people. Plus that Tabatha isn't the only one that has had visions! I think all of the characters who hallucinate fit into roles. Like the town needs someone to see the kids, the symbol or the dried up woman in colony.

Who is the dried up woman??? Is she a ghost like the other dead we've seen or like Boyd has seen? She doesn't feel the same because she looks immediately scarier than the other dead. Maybe she has different motives or a different purpose narratively.

I'm glad Victor is talking to people about the past and thank god it's Sara who can help put puzzle pieces together.

I want a big reunion with Victor, Jade and Tabitha. I like their dynamic and want them to talk to Boyd because I feel like they'll solve some shit. I do kinda love the lack of communication tho. It makes things tense and you kinda know these plot hound characters WILL argue regardless.

I'm going to go crazy when Victor sees his Dad. I feel like the writers might make me cry again lol.

It was so funny seeing Kristi and Kenny have a heart to heart, then cut to a wide showing Jade just off screen. It brought a fun sleep over energy to it. Especially when jade went fuck it, wanna hear some weird shit?

In season 2 I found Randall annoying and a good antagonist. Then, as he got isolated and cicada-d I started sympathizing for him. Yeah he was a dick, but like damn he has nobody in hell. Then seeing him get picked out by the monsters and getting left alive on the ambulance really made me feel for him. I can't wait to see if he'll call out Boyd for leaving him or really how either character will react in episode 6. I hope Randall lives because it'll be a lot more interesting if he does and I want to see more of him.

I want to see Marielle and Kristi be sweet together. I love my sapphics 💚💚💚 I do like how Marielle is proving herself as a nurse and her caring for Fatima is helping her feel grounded. If something goes wrong with Fatima and the baby then I feel like it'll be a big blow for Marielle emotionally.

Julie and Ethan deserve so much better. Their dad, Jim, is obsessed with the mystery and can't pull his head out of his ass to be there for his kids. Plus I bet he's going to be super protective over Tabitha now she's back. Like let your wife be the plot hound and learn your lesson you need to protect the kids you still have. I just feel bad Julie and Ethan are thinking about what will happen when their parents are gone. It sucks.

I want to hug Donna; she is being pushed beyond her limit.

For a sec I thought Donna recognized the new cop character when the cop ran in. But it could also be a Holy shit more shit to deal with kind of reaction.

I bet the cop character has some sort of connection to one of the main characters. Like all of the new characters from season 2 ended up playing a significant role. This cop has to bring something. If not I hope the cop and Tabitha have an interesting relationship since they entered together.

Tabitha can find someone better than Jim and that better person is bisexuality

I like how before they kill minor characters they have tended to be present in episodes prior to their death. Like Nicky's death wasn't on the same level of emotional devastation as Tian Chen dying. But Nicky still felt like a real person in this world who died and not just the red shirt of the ep. The writers are doing an amazing job and I hope that keeps up.

[sxaxmxx1]

Crimson colored love

Ronin X Reader (Killer chat) Vampire one shot

trigger warning -> Slight gore mention + toxic relationship description. Alcohol use. If that is not for you, skip it. I will be more than grateful to see you at a different fic of mine that twill suit you better.

Also, I am trying a 'you' style of writing instead of my usual 'I' style. Let me know what is better.

You still remember the time he picked you up. Life was crumbling down, walls of the place you called home fell down, weighting all of those problems more down, as those dirty remains laid on your body.  You sat in a bar. Not dancing, nor enjoying the time. The reasoning of your visit was different. Or perhaps not that unusual, just unexpected for a person like you. Drinking. Swallowing the sweet poison called alcohol and letting it set a warm feeling into your empty stomach. 

And that is when he appeared. Like an angel coming from above, that was before you knew he was, in fact, the devil. Or at least a creature indeed sent from hell. Ronin. He took your hand, placing a cold, playful kiss on the top. He called you a darling and promised nothing will hurt anymore as long as he’s around. And so the answer was yes, you will go, there was nothing to lose.

Yet, it was never obvious why he picked you specifically. Maybe he sensed the fear, the miserable feeling eating on your insides, Rotting your body, which peaked his interest. Just like a wolf seeing a weak, vulnerable lamb. Knowing that this one will be a good, easy meal. That this one will follow him wherever he goes. And that you did. He opened those gates of his home. A mansion decorated with religious symbols a little differently. Crosses turned upside down. Painting covered in blood of those who entered and never left. 

It did not take too long for Ronin to show his true colors, as he was never ashamed of the darkness his soul possessed. Just then you realized he sank his sharp fangs into you in that bar already, long before you even knew he had those. Long before he was revealed to consume the lifeline of humans.

Those nights you laid awake in bed cannot even be counted anymore. Sheets soaked with your very own blood. Covered in marks in the shape of Ronin’s teeth while he was gone. Outside, looking for one to suck whole. He keeps you alive, his very own play toy and the worst is, you mistake his actions for affection. 

Because no matter what, he comes back. His fingers come to brush a stand of hair behind your ear and even though it feels cold, warmth arrives. Because a person living in a burning house will feel much safer in an ice cave. Because this house doesn’t fall apart under your feet, at least not visibly, since you don't pay attention to cracks.

The door opens and the devil, as he of course likes to call himself, steps inside. There is crimson liquid dripping down his mouth and hands, covering all of his fingers. The color you started to associate with the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. 

His body sinks into the mattress as if it’s a lake, deep one the both of you keep falling into and even though he can reach the surface where you could take a breath, he stays down, taking you with himself as he slowly sinks to the bottom. 

Ronin leans closer, embracing you with the coldness of his body, undead one. A body with no grave and no soul, yet still walking on earth. His breath would now tickle the skin of your neck, if he had one, no air ever gets into his lungs anymore, no heart beats in his chest. Therefore he simply cannot love. So you lie to yourself he does as his fangs pierce your skin and withdraws more and more of blood, but never enough. 

After every whisper of ‘’I love you’’ he sinks his teeth deeper into your flesh and with every breath you take, it finally comes to your mind that it’s not you as a whole he loves, but the liquid running through those veins. 

Pulling slightly away, he draws a red line with his lips from your own, to cheek and to ear, letting new words escape. 

‘’One day I will kill you, just not yet, darling.’’

[beevean]

It took me a lot of time to put into words that Isaac, simply, wants to feel important.

On one hand, there's his wanting to be the perfect weapon for Dracula. He is subservient to a T, he changes his body for him, he refuses to think about what they're doing, in pursue of surpassing Hector and becoming the Lord's favorite. He never accomplished that. It eats him up inside, and drives him to do illogical actions, like insisting on fighting Hector on fair terms to prove himself.

"I'm not as thoughtful as you, Hector... If you have a good weapon, you use it, don't you?"

"Good for you that you can judge our Lord’s deeds… It’s not bad for my position. But I will not tolerate any disservice and betrayal towards Him."

"I will not deny your loyalty..."

On the other, there's Hector. Isaac isn't going to submit to Hector, of course, not when Dracula indirectly forced him in that position already. At first, he wants to be at least his equal: he respects him but as I mentioned he wants to prove himself against him in a fight. Again, he doesn't accomplish that, and in fact Hector defeats him when wounded - and, in a last spit to his face, leaves him alive, unworthy of being finished off.

"Take a look at this pathetic sight, my Lord, my broken sword used as a cane. My body is the proof of Your expectations for him. Please ridicule me, scold me, next time I will do whatever it takes."

But then, he chooses another way. For three years, Hector dominates Isaac's every thought, as he rots away, hidden, a waste, a failure, while Hector gets everything he ever wanted.

"Mhh... You make that kind of face too… I've gotten a lot better too... How many times has the moon waxed and waned, I wonder?

"That’s a nice expression… I'm happy. Good pain is proof of life. I won't afford you the peace of death easily: live, spit blood, and then…"

He writes Hector's name under his boot, which can be interpreted in many ways, but I personally see it as a symbol of how thoroughly Hector owns him, like a toy.

So, then, Isaac flips the script on him.

I have spent words already on the significance of Isaac killing Rosaly. I also mentioned how repaying Hector with the same trauma he had inflicted on Isaac, albeit unwittingly, puts Hector in the position of the one being "owned" like a toy. Now it's Hector the one who is obsessed with Isaac, ruled by his anger and hatred. Isaac can play with him as he pleases. He can move him around like his puppet, and Hector will obey, not because he's stupid, but because Isaac has seized control of his emotions and thoughts. Isaac went from being dead in Hector's eyes to being his only reason left to live. At last, for a short while, Isaac was the most important person in Hector's life - and you bet he was relishing in that power, he who was made to feel worthless by the same man.

Hurts even more than even in his death, he was being as second best, as faulty material for his Lord's resurrection, his body left to be crushed under the castle.

It contrasts with Hector, who wants mostly to feel safe.

"The ability to rebel and blaspheme against the Divine Providence is accepted without blame. A place where we are allowed to exist."

When he talks in the MF manga that he sought power for the sake of remaining human, he was most likely referring to the power to live in peace, unthreatened, not feeling weak or vulnerable. He didn't care at all about being important to Dracula, something that Isaac envied instead.

It's yet another tragic parallel that Hector ended up being important to many people. To Dracula, as I said, as his best Devil Forgemaster. But to Rosaly as well, as someone she could live with and love, and to Julia, as someone who could help her and support her in her grief. Hector clings to people much like Isaac does, but not to the point of destruction, whether to himself or others.

[heartfullofleeches]

Do it!! We love your ideas chief, that’s why we’re here!

Also ghoul reader is hot as fuck

[Light body horror. Angst]

Well- two important factors about ghoul reader are both their body and mind deteriorate over time, but can be rebuilt to full structure by eating human meat/brain healthy meals.

This led me to think of a "healer" ghoul reader who can sorta transfer/reconstruct the healthy cells to others and heal people that way. Lose a kidney? Ghoul Reader can create a new one and negate most side effects by eating some ground beef left in the freezer. A personal sacrifice of their flesh for another being.

Given the nature of their healing properties, Ghoul Reader is extremely caring and always puts others before themself. They make friends with the wrong person- someone who hardly cares about their well-being and uses Reader for their personal gain. They had been scarred horribly by mistakes they'd already made and without them even asking Reader starts to slowly heal them. Their body needs more work than reader's can take, but they just write the ghoul off as lazy and trying to keep them around. Reader's body mass continues to shrink no matter how much they eat. It hurts them to put so much strain on their body... it hurts so much... but they still try. They still keep that "friend" in their heart and notebooks so they'll never forget them when their memory blanks. They care about their friend. They love them. They want them to be okay and love themself for who they are-

But they never knew how truly rotten that person was - inside and out.

"Finally... All those horrid scars were a damper on my social life. I'm even more beautiful than I was then. That being said, I can't be seen around something like you. It was fun."

That isn't what friends are supposed to say.. After all they did for them... Gone without even saying goodbye. That was the ghouls first time being betrayed to such caliber- and it crushed them. They wouldn't feel this pain if they were just another mindless creature, but they were proud of the person they'd become. The "normal" human being who walked around same as everyone else. They were just like them... only rotting... maybe that person wasn't so wrong to leave them behind...

Ghoul Reader shuts off from the outside world after that. They stick to their routine as it's all they've ever known, but they've lost that rosy view of the world. Is it worth making friends anymore? What's the point of trying if they'll just be abandoned again? They were more human than the people around them. Unlike them - they felt pain. They wanted to forget it all - so they did. Most of it at least.

While out one night reader notices a musky scent in the air. So faint only their nose would catch it. They follow the trail to a body lying behind some dumpsters - stab wounds having torn deep holes through their vital organs. Their pulse was weak - fading. Despite all the pain they've been dealt, Ghoul couldn't let someone die for another's mistake. They fixed up the near corpse and waited for them to wake up so they couldn't get home safety.

"Ugh....I'm still alive....lame...who the fuck are you?.."

Ghoul Reader explains everything that lead up to the encounter and their healing capabilities.

"Eh....with how my nights gone - I'll believe anything at this point. Thanks for the help, bud."

It was nothing. Ghoul Reader gets up to leave.

"Aye! Where ya going? You save people's lives on the regular and expect nothing back? Lemme treat you to dinner. Know a good spot close by and I still have the wallet I was gutted over. Let's get going already!"

Reader learns more about their new acquaintance. A petty thief trying to get on the right track in life. They spun some wild story about seeing a guy dropping his wallet and them trying to return it with the guy flying off the rails and accusing them of stealing it. The details were spotty, but Reader nodded along to every word. They needed a place to stay for the night as their home was too far to trek back too at that hour. They give Reader the rest of the cash in the wallet in exchange for their couch and they become the first real friend Reader makes.

Everything Reader gave they always tried to give back double. The near death experience gave them a new outlook on life. It was something to be cherished and not thrown away so easily as they had in the past. They wanted to share that new view with their only friend. Reader was a better companion than people they'd know their entire life. A little bitey when they got hungry, but everyone gets a little cranky when they're starving.

The friend gets a call over. Reader had skipped breakfast and wasn't sticking to their usual diet. They sat alone, unable to move and succumbing to the painful cramps of hunger. They begged their friend to bring them meat from the store, but their friend wanted to end their suffering as quickly as they could. They pulled out their trusty switchblade, embedding its teeth in their pinky finger. Ghoul Reader tries to stop them.

"Y/n, you saved my life. It's as much yours as it is mine. I'd give anything to properly replay you, but I'll never be able to and I don't mind living with that debt on my shoulders if it means we're together. This is the least I can do for you- so shut up and eat my damn finger."

-

A week after Reader tries them their finger back there's a knock on the door. Their friend refused treatment seeing it as a marker of their loyality to reader. They make sure reader is well fed at all times. A face reader has seen before stands behind the door. Some model they've seen on billboards and flyers. What could someone like that with them?

"Y/n. I know you probably don't want to see me after what I've done, but I need your help. I got into an accident after a few drinks last week. Nothing serious before you ask, but I've got these bruises and I have an important party to attend this Saturday. I'll allow you to be my plus one if that fixes things."

....

"I'll be out with a friend Saturday, but thank you. I can still fix you, but if you don't mind me asking - how do you know my name?"

Reader leads them to their couch and heals their spotty face all while the stranger is left bewildered. They're acting like nothing happened. Why are they acting like nothing happened? Who was this new friend and who the hell was that standing by their bedroom door?

"Are you seriously going to play this game?"

"What do you mean?"

"Pretending like you don't know who I am. That's harsh even with everything that's happened."

Ghoul Reader backs away from them.

"I've seen you in pictures, but that's it. I don't know who you are."

"It was cute at first, but I'm not playing whatever game you're trying to start. You know who I am."

Ghoul Reader racks their brain for answers, but there's no result. They begin to hyperventilate. "I don't....I don't know who you are....Stop it, please!"

"Not til you say my name. I'll own up to my part when do that simple thing."

They grip at their face, talons catching on their softened skin. "I don't know who you are...Don't make me remember..... Get out.... GET OUT!"

As the stranger leaves and heads towards their car a notebook flies out reader's window - aiming for their skull had they not stepped out of the way in time. Inside are pages of filled with scratched out ink held on a weakened spine. It was a miracle they held together. The pages stick togethered, water damgaged by crusted specks of blood and smaller dots of a clearer fluid. The words written were near illegible, but there's a few key points they could make out. A birthday, the begining and ending characters to a person's name, a repeated phrase pieced together over the various pages. Don't forget. Never forget.

They'd been erased completely from reader's conscious mind. This notebook had been kept to prevent that very thing from happening. All those precious memories thrown away. The stranger was happy with the life they'd been robbed of - but no one had ever been their for them like Reader had. A new stain falls to the page.

Flipping to the final page, a note slides off the back cover.

"Come here again - and I'll erase you permanently."

It wasn't reader's hand writing. The person in the window holds up a new journal - comforting a sobbing ghoul on their shoulder.

[six-white-venus]

MY FAVORITE WORD EVER

rot

OR!!

gone

you find my corpse on a bright summer morning.

you break into my freezing cabin with a raised eyebrow. unphased. curious. then, a slow smile appears. i am immediately wary.

it has been years since i’ve had visitors in my humble abode and i like it that way. the cold keeps me safe. my body rots like a bruise swells; slow, painful, with withering purples and blues. it stretches the time of my body in this land into an endless limbo that i clutch with my cold, dead hands. my heart is still and i am numb, have been so for a long, long time. i am safe.

you find my corpse on a summer morning and stomp into my home/hell with eyes ablaze and teeth flashing and if i was alive, my heart would’ve seized at the sight. you lug my body to my backyard, unflinching. the sun burns my skin and everything hurts and i want to kick and scream and thrash in your hold because you idiot, you stupid motherfucker, don’t you know the rot sets in faster when life is around?

but dead men don’t scream, don’t move. you drop me on the grass with heaving breaths and all i could do is burn while the cicadas sing of my second demise. then, you start talking.

you tell me about your day and ask me about mine and barrel on when all you’re met with is silence. you tell me of the sky, the wind, and your favourite sundress. you must be insane. out of your fucking mind. don’t you see this rotting vessel of mine? my unseeing gaze and blue lips and cracking skin? don’t you smell the rot, the death? you surely do. then why aren’t you running? no, stop. stop moving closer. you madman, leave me in this wretched place. the warmth of your touch will only make me fester, don’t you see?

but you stay. you tell me how the crisp apple bursts into a delightful sweetness when you sink your teeth into it and pull my head to your lap. you tell me about your mom’s cooking and let my cold seep into your skin. my mouth is sewn shut and you are holding me so gently and i want to scream for mercy, for an ounce of cruelty. give me back my home, you villain. give me back my hell.

ice melts. the heat thaws my flesh and the rot digs into my body with its talons unsheathed and merciless. you pitch a tent next to my body and spend your nights here. night after night, i listen to the lull of your heart and watch the rise and fall of your chest as my body breaks itself down from inside out. i am warm.

and you, stubborn, baffling, ethereal you; you stay. the next day and all the days after that. the stench is getting unbearable now. i can see it in your eyes, in every ragged breath of yours. a corpse will remain a corpse no matter how much it is loved. there are only so many stories you can tell without gagging at the sight of this monstrosity. the sun always sets. stories end. love lives where life does. your kindness never did have a place between my blackened teeth and diseased heart, my dear.

but you come back with a gentle brush of lips against my decaying forehead. your hand cradles my rotten head. my sweet warmth, there you are. won’t you leave?

you won’t, right?

you dig my grave all by yourself. six feet deep, seven feet tall because you want me to be comfortable. what a useless gesture. i learn love feels like the glow of the moon and feather soft touches and a grave dug with bare hands.  you lift me in your arms, careful not to jostle me too much, lest i fall apart. kindness feels like a siren’s lullaby and i can feel my eyes droop. it’s dangerous and so very beautiful.

things are different in my new home. numbness feels so far away. there is life thrumming in my veins and eating away at my flesh. you bring me flowers everyday- chrysanthemums, dandelions and tulips- you tell me they remind you of me. how foolish. how very wonderful.

soon, i will bloom into all the flowers you can dream of from this very earth you laid me in. soon, i will rise, petals unfurling, laugh booming. i will weave myself in your braids and take root in your chest and spread down to the very tips of your fingers. my darling, my sun, my rose; i promise i will find you on a bright summer morning.

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

ℜ𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔏𝔬𝔰𝔱

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2

𝓐𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫

Astarion x Dark Urge Aristen poetry · commission for @aristenfromwarsaw

“Redemption Lost” song listening while reading – Aristen's song · Part 1 Astarion

✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️

My love that goes by the name of Astarion Will our love survive the night? The day, the light? Or was it just an illusion born from the darkness? Will you see me for what I am in the morning light and run? Created in an abyss of dark urgings I was not made good enough, to be loved What is a tree, with roots of evil? Bears only crimson buds of suffering Rise to the sky My soul cry out at night A flower, rotting and decaying without light Screaming for blood Touched by your gentle hands, bonding us with a red tie My darkness ignites by your stars’ light I try to be good, but the dark drags me down Blood and emptiness devour my hands Teeth ripping out my flesh The light nowhere to be seen Doomed to rot Or the mercy of fate? Deserved in all eternity Cut me out, run away Monsters of mine should eat me form inside, but never ever touch you Creatures, the monster with my face looking at me every day Clawing, screaming, drowning my head I should be banned and dead and not held in your lover’s arms Twisted mirror Deadly reflection I see a face myself unlovable, not worth your acceptance But your pale hand reaching out for me You never judge, forgive what I did How could I deserve someone not looking at me in disgust, but with compassion? You have seen my darkest nightmares and loved me anyway You feel it too, you see it too Smile without joy Death within life A crack in the empty mirror Burning in blood, drowning on air Hurting you is hurting me So my tears do pray and my heart will ask Screaming at the night’s sky I want to crawl inside your chest and die I want to be the secret inside your heart, maybe than my demons cannot find us Our story will be a love song and not a blood-stained ballad Astarion, the name of my love forevermore You’ve seen troubles and blue like me Your heart beating, making mine racing fast You survived torture, bigger, stronger men and kings would fall to Still able to love, still able to hope For me your heart and soul are dauntless With you the night is an endless dream If I go, If I die I would die with your name on my lips Your past carved into your soul like mine Compare our scars Erase them forever Overwrite them with the poem of our love psalm Sins and heart open – devotion fears nothing to hide Your hand on my cheek, keeps my head up high Above the bloody water You saved me from my darkness Let us make it out alive Escape the circles of damnation Can we be more, we were made to be? More than what we were condemned to be

✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️🥀✨️

a/n: second part of my commission for @aristenfromwarsaw

Astarion x Dark Urge Aristen poetry

She wanted a poem about how Astarion feels not good enough to be with her Durge Aristen, not worthy of her love. While Aristen sees Astarion as her true savior, despite she is desperate about her crimes as bhaal spawn and struggling with her past, that should forbid her being happy with a wonderful elf like Astarion, the only one that seem to understand her truly. All the more the irony of their thoughts and doubts. All your wonderful stories about your Aristen and Astarion, inspired me. And you know me, I love a dramatic, angsty, tragic love story the most. I hope I made it not to dramatic – but believe me, the first draft was even way more drama. For two weeks now I've been working on it and I have to say I'm very happy with it and I really like it. I hope you enjoy it, that it inspires you too and that it meets your expectations and gets the message across well. (If the song to this did not get stuck in your head, I'll be offended 😉😆😂) Maybe someone else will take a liking to it too as well. I would be delighted. I wish I could be so focused on working on things for my OCs. I've been writing a short fanfic about Astarion and Saulus since September and well...a stagnating WIP it is since then. This time it really should be like a conversation between Astarion and the Bhaalspawn. Or more like writing letters to each other. I got inspired to this writing style, of a music album from a band, where the first song on the CD was sung by a woman and told of a love story. The last song on the album was sung by a man and was the exact answer to her song. (Or the other way around) I thought that was great at the time. Unfortunately, I can't remember what kind of band it was. Not at all. I can't seem to remember anything these days. Maybe someone knows better than me which album I mean and can enlighten me. (I've noticed that I write differently when I'm composing on a laptop or starting in my bard/poetry book (obviously). Do you prefer the shorter stuff, poems/ballads with fewer/shorter lines? What do you say?)

[barrenclan]

I think catabolic seed by the scary jokes is very slugpelt, maybe about her life in general?

Yeah, I think so! I like the themes in this song about trying to take control of your life by reaching out to other people, but getting denied. That's very Slugpelt.

Also, check out this awesome PMV with Catabolic Seed, which I just have to show off cause I love it so much.

"But is bad luck really such a crime? If you won't be my valentine, could you at least give me a little bit of sympathy?"

"I don't care if I'm losing myself in the garden of earthly delights I could drop dead right where I stand, and I wouldn't mind"

You guys always find such interesting songs. I like this one. It's definitely got good Rainhaze energy.

"even through the pain animals cannot change dance with the skeletons and float away"

"eat and then die all your siblings cast aside too"

"see with new eyes a world ready to despise you"

No, no one's recommended this Hannibal fansong yet. But nice call for Ranger talking to Rainhaze!

"So look in the mirror And tell me, who do you see? Is it still you? Or is it me?"

"Do you feel the hunger Does it howl inside? Does it terrify you? Or do you feel alive?"

That's a good classic ask, back from the beginning of the blog. Never forget Christmas music Daff.

"Underground, boxed and glum Left you there for rot All my fears are overgrown Will someone burn this grove?"

"Welcome home! It's been a while Do you miss your head? With your tattered clothes and your bloody nose?"

I LOVE Vulture Culture! That song is great. I've been wanting to do a version of its animation meme for years now with a fandom I'm in. Maybe someday.

It can be a Rainhaze song and a Defiance song. They're so interlinked now, right?

"We live and die in a vulture culture We crucify anyone we hunger Gemini and a broken brother We live and die, my friend"

"Well, I guess I made my bed Now I gotta lie in it Like a suicidal kiss I got a guilty conscience"

BarrenClan is a cursed land!...

"The curse ruled from the underground, down by the shore And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before"

"If they called on every soul in the land, on the moon Only then would they know a blessing in disguise"

Asphodelpaw's themesong is a MARINA song, so you're already halfway there! I also agree with you about the idea of Asphodel feeling like she has to put on a strong front and pretend like she doesn't have any genuine feelings.

"It's okay to say you've got a weak spot You don't always have to be on top Better to be hated Than loved loved loved for what your not"

"You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable You are not a robot You're lovable, so lovable But you're just troubled"

What a wonderful title for a song. I also love mashing my OCs into any vaguely related song to them.

"I bid the sunshine adieu! In 1872 When the girl that I liked Made me a creature of the night"

"On the shortest night of the year I told him he’d nothing to fear As I bit his throat and crooned as he choked “Together forever my dear”

I'm certain this song has been suggested before, but that's only because any song from The Crane Wives discography could fit into PATFW.

"He taught me that the hand that feeds Deserves to be bitten when it beats He taught me how to break my chains And that money ain't worth a thing"

"Reminding me how little I have But as for time, as for time It's mine, it's mine"

Poor Pinepaw! He really does know too much, often envious of who he used to be.

...yeah, that's going on the playlist.

"Everything here is built on bones

Everything everything everything

And men will do as they’re foretold

Everything everything everything

Visions you don’t want to see

Everything everything everything

Hide your face from prophecy"

If I'm being real - since this song is so desert-themed, it's giving much bigger Saltburn's Clan energy, especially with the line about "mountain cats". (Blasting beams into the 3 people who read this's head to go read SBC at @nanistar)

If you want my opinion, I would say Slugpelt.

"So, if I can wait five more In this shape that I abhor I'll sleep with an open door Knowing you haven't touched a cell on my body"

"Now, my love carries the task Of handling the aftermath Can you smooth the looping lines Of fingerprints before your time?"

Lol I ran out of video embeds

[creepling]

if i may suggest a slight idea for a nubbins/sonny drabble… perhaps something wholesome like nubbins giving him a charm bracelet or necklace? maybe its even made out of animal bones (or so he tells sonny) so it doesn’t totally scare him LOL

NUBBINS/SONNY MY BELOVED. they are my jeland at this point and and i love this idea so here's what i came up with!! been a hot minute since i've written a c/c pairing heheh.

tags: nubbins sawyer/sonny williams. gift giving. captivity. slight mention of death. this is as fluffy as tcm can get lol. 744 words.

Nubbins spent all day making the bracelet, scraping up the small bones scattered around his room and taking grandma’s old sewing kit. She had those elastic strings that are good for bracelets. Nubbins tied it together, sticking his tongue out in concentration. Once it was tight enough, Nubbins got up from his dusty mattress and placed it delicately into his pouch – heading straight to the basement.

“He’s gonna love it – yeah – gonna love it!” He muttered under his breath. He lowers into a crouch as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, sneaking past Drayton in the kitchen peeling potatoes and down to the basement. He slides the metal door open, hoping the radio upstairs is loud enough to mask the thud. But Drayton did not holler, so Nubbins took his chance and slid the door closed, jogging through the tunnels to the makeshift ‘holding cells’.

Nubbins liked to think the basement was a barn, rooms sectioned for the meat. But one room had more than just meat. Inside was Nubbins’ new best friend.

Sonny flinched as Nubbins entered unannounced, the clank of chains haunting his ears and Nubbins locked the door behind him. Sonny sensed every move they made, tracking their whereabouts. The last few days – no, weeks? Sonny has noticed the wiry guy that caught him in a trap only visits him. As his friends rot in cells, or on meathooks – the man visits him with gifts, food, and a shit eating grin. At least once a day, without fail. But Sonny still cowards in the corner when he enters, unequipped for the day he decides to take him to the slaughter.

“Hey!” Nubbins had all the confidence until he was faced with Sonny. Then he shrivels back into his shell, twitching smirks on his face that he cannot control. Sonny saw he had a lot of tics; face tics mostly. But sometimes he swings his hands too close to his pockets. Where he keeps the knife…

When Sonny didn’t answer, Nubbins lowered himself to his level on the ground, slowly approaching him like wounded prey. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I ain’t hurted ya yet, have I?”

You caught me in a trap, asshole. Sonny wanted to say. His ankle still ached, but the guy patched him up before it got infected. Said something about not wanting to spoil prime meat. Sonny levelled to reason with him as best he could. He noticed he’s more calm – even excited when he’s nice to him. Anything to keep him alive, I guess.

Sonny watched his hands carefully as he dug into his furry pouch, pulling out a bone bracelet with a flat hand. Nubbins presented it to Sonny like a peace offering, his twitching smirk spreading into a wide smile.

“I made this for ya,” Nubbins giggled, “Do ya like it?”

Sonny hesitantly took it from his sweaty palm, examining it with careful eyes. His callous, bruised fingers traced along the dry bone. Its fragments were too small to make out where the bones came from. God forbid if it’s–

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sonny forced a smile, finally having the courage to make eye contact with him. Nubbins witnessed the glint in his eye, his brown eyes dark in the lightless room; still shining like they do in the Texan dawn. Nubbins scratched the heat crawling up his neck, averting his eyes in a sheepish manner.

“Sure I did. It- It will go nice with ya other bracelet. Oh – and the necklace!” Nubbins said, “I made it small since you got small wrists. Like me.”

Sonny slid the bracelet along his wrist, feeling the grooves of the bones scrape against his skin. It was true to size, like Nubbins said, and if it wasn’t for the circumstances Sonny would feel flattered.

“Thanks, man,” Sonny slightly choked on his words, replacing the uncertainty with a slight smile.

He liked it. He really did like it. Nubbins was pleased, fiddling with his fingers, filled with so much joy that his body began to rock back and forth like a giddy school girl. Ever since Robert went to Vietnam, Nubbins has been awfully lonely. Like a part was missing from him. For the first time in years, he feels that has been filled. He now has Sonny, who likes his bracelet, and vicariously can like him too. Nubbins sure hopes he likes him like he does.

“Anything for my new best friend!”

[ovtsakaramel]

Do you have anymore finnick/odesta head cannons i loved your first one!

So sorry this took some time to answer but heres the hcs

🩵Finnick never wanted piercings or tattoos or anything like this but when he had a crush on Annie and saw the kinds of guys she's into he just went to her and asked her to pierce his ear. She, with the experience of piercings her friends, agreed and was just so happy that he trusts her and actually talks to her, and not talking to her only when she goes to annoy him, immediately says yes. His ear got infected the next day but he didn't let her see him until he managed to get it under control so she won't feel guilty and he won't be like that one kid who got an Infection while all the others are cool and edgy. He ended up loving it, but no needles touched his body again.

🩵Finnick has some days where he just locks himself in his house and doesn't do anything and just sits there until the pain eats him alive and he falls asleep. The stinging rotting from the inside covering each organ, his mind already lost and there is nothing but the last face. Then the others. He's back there. The skin starts rotting too from every hit of the imaginary touch. The two rots meet each other in the middle layer of his body and send the destroying fire. He's numb now. Didn't move for the whole day. The numbness goes to his brain and he shuts down. The next morning he wakes up to a knocking too loud to be from anyone other than the woman always ready for an argument, the victor of last year's games - Annie Cresta.

"Wake up you piece of actual fucking shit! Finnick Odair! Wake up, motherfucking idiot!" The only thing that could make him wake up was a voice this annoying. The only motivation to wake up every morning was the hope that he could win in a fight with her. She was his only hope.

"Do I still bring you hope?" Annie is laying on his chest, he dark brown hair shining with a red essence from the morning sun. The red from the anger he had to her once was now the calming red of love that hits her hair with the sun.

"You're both my thirteenth reason and my only reason, fucking spawn of Satan." She throws the blanket over him and stands up, putting her red panties on. Well, maybe he didn't like red on her in one way. "Hey, take them off again, why standing up?"

"I'm mad." She says.

" -ly in love with me?" He gives her puppy eyes.

"Asshole. What you said it's not true."

"That you're my only reason to live? Or that you are my 13th reason?"

"That you have only 13 reasons"

"Ouch." Well, it didn't actually hurt. Sometimes making jokes was the only way to get through it. Thank God he had a girlfriend that can't take anything seriously.

She puts his shirt on and starts doing her makup. At that moment, he realized - there was another reason to live: to learn how tf can this 20 year old woman have the line drawing skills of a 3 year old child. And know that many swear words for every time she fucked up her eyeliner.

[All of these are headcanons that I planned to write separately, but I felt like if I did a car was gonna hit me tmrw] ok so this was also a little not really thought off and it's just a silly thing don't look a lot into if it's realistic or not

🩵Annie despises being called darling. But she is a sucker for baby and doesn't give a fuck about how cringe it is, she is cringe and will never stop being. She calls Finnick angel because since they kissed for the first time, there was nothing more ethereal and unhumanly nice than the man she used to despise.

🩵Annie may not cook, but she is a fire bartender.

🩵Finnick once stole a cigarette from Annie and will never tell her because she would make sure that he doesn't touch one again.

"Why can you do it then?"

"Because I'm fucked up and don't matter, I'm already way too far gone! I'm crazy! And you matter!"

"I'm far worse than you."

"Well I'm too far gone in loving you." She snaps the cigarette from his hand and takes a smoke.

[ask-lily-curo]

Enough Rotting For Two, Killing Me, Keeping Me High

Words: 0.9k Started: July 18, 2023 Finished: July 18, 2023 Summary: A vague hanahaki AU story I made for my OCs but I didn't mention anything specific so you can insert any ship you want here. A/N: I completely forgot to post this but here it is. Got hit with the Writing Spirit and wrote this in like an hour or two in a haze. Title from My Love is Sick by Madds Buckley, something that fueled the idea Even More.

Flowers are beautiful. I could watch you smile as you stare in adoration at one you hold between your gentle fingers as I stare adoringly at you forever. I would put as many flowers in your hair if it put a smile on your face.

Flowers are beautiful. I hold the one you gifted me, I know you took 3 hours to find one I’d like. I would’ve taken anything you give me. I can feel the care you put into the thought and the love you transferred through the plant. I take it all in like the flower takes in the sunlight, knowing I’d die without it.

Flowers are beautiful. I feel bad for tainting their beautiful image with me. My blood covers the petals in my hand, my love rotting inside me, punishing me for coveting something so beautiful. I smile painfully, the flowers still remind me of your smile. Even now, even alone, your joy is still infectious, the memory of you filling my brain like the petals fill my lungs, both filled to the brim with my love for you. 

Flowers are beautiful. Though not as beautiful as your laughter. The laughter I try to keep up with despite my love for you stuck in my throat. We lay in a flower field together underneath the moonlight. You point out the stars that twinkle among the night sky, the same way yours does when you eat something delicious or when you find something you like. A firefly comes near you, like a moth to a flame, and lands on the flower I put in your hair. You smile and point it out to me. I tell you one of the stars came to say hello and you laugh. I’d make all the stars come to you if you wanted but you’d still shine brighter than all of them with your bright smile and eyes that light up the sky. I cough and tell you it’s late, hiding the red liquid that attempts to taint this beautiful moment.

Flowers are beautiful. The ones that come out of me are filled with the love I have for you. It hurts, but you gave me these petals. I’d rather keep it than have you removed, even if they are tainted with my blood, withering in my hand because of it. I’d rather die drowning in your love than die without it. You fill my body with love and petals. Beautiful petals that feel more like thorns in my throat, but I’d rather they kill me than even graze you. You draw me in like a moth to a flame, or a bug to a flower. Your bright expression and your sweet smell, the one that I do my best to keep alive rather than taint, choke me gently.

Flowers are beautiful. The ones inside me grow and grow like an untreated infection. It leaves me sick, but I stare at them with a pained smile. It’s wrong to love someone so wonderful like you, but I continue to keep you as close to me as possible, close enough that I can enjoy your presence but far enough you aren’t ruined. You stay inside me all the time, rotting me for my sins. My love is sick, I am aware, painfully aware, but it reminds me of you so much, and that makes it bearable. You are the cause and my cure but you are there. If you weren’t, I would’ve died sooner, withering away like these flowers covered in blood.

Flowers are beautiful. I put one in your hair, hoping it’d also put a smile on your face. I allow myself to touch you, to taint you, just to wipe away your tears. You hold me close, allowing me to taint you, you’re as warm as the sun. You don’t wither away from my blood nor do you bleed from my touch.

You tell me I’m beautiful. As beautiful as the flower you gave me, even more actually, you say. If I’m a flower that brings you a smile, you’re my sunshine, the one that keeps me alive. You tell me how you watched me smile at that flower you gave me, studying my smile as I held it close to me. You tell me all the things I wanted to tell you, but instead speaking these through flowers, you told me while in your arms. Your words make my chest feel lighter and my lungs free up, breathing you in.

You’re beautiful, my love. You laugh with tears as you quietly scold me, making sure I tell you when I’m bleeding. You looked so beautiful, I forgot. I forgot you weren’t as fragile as those petals you gave me, and you loved me back unlike those petals. You would do anything to keep me close, you say. We laugh and promise to allow ourselves to bleed a bit on each other when we need to, that way we can bleed out the poison instead of letting it kill us slowly.

Flowers are beautiful. They’re infectious and full of love. They’re like your smile. The one you give me after every kiss and the one I see when I catch you staring at me. My love, no longer caught in my throat, now pours out of me, like a never ending stream of praise, no longer tainted by petals. My sunshine, you make me feel like I’m a beautiful flower rather than a poisonous threat, and it fills me with joy.

May our love continue to heal each other, like a gentle flower, swaying in the loving breeze.

[beepartcollection]

sobbing into my hands engie and millicent (i love your elden ring au!! if you'd like, could you say a bit more about what sniper's up to in the lands between?)

Sure thing!

So Sniper, just like in canon material, is just kinda there. Not to say he's not important of course, he's the kinda guy who enjoys just being there. Unlike everyone else on the team, Sniper actually has survival skills, he knows how to set up a tent, make a fire, hunt for food, and more. Though the fact there's 9 people and 1 him makes things difficult. Plus, it's the lands between, so things are hunting them while they go about. I have this one idea for a chapter in the fic where they hunt a bear, and Heavy is like 'something doesn't feel right' and then they get attacked by a rune bear. For reference, a rune bear is this

Sniper, like the rest of the gang, would not have his weapons or gear with him, so he makes due- bow and arrow time. Canonically he at least knows how to use one, so he definitely would find the nearest shortbow and get to work sniping heads while everyone else distracts the enemy.

Eventually when Medic loses use of his legs (Deathblight), he's stuck to his horse, however, the horse only knows movement with stirrups and reigns, and Sniper lost his horse- an omen for how the rest of the au's gonna go- so they join forces, since both of them prefer to not be in range of enemy attacks. They don't like sharing the horse.

Also, Sniper's hair grows out! I just think he looks very attractive with long hair (blame @/queensqueercourt for getting me into it). He also by some miracle still has his aviators and hat by the end.

Speaking of the end! Spoilers for the fic and body horror ahead!

So, Sniper does eventually die in the fic, pretty late into it, but he does. The team needs all seven greatrunes to get home, so they have to beat Godrick, Morgott, Rennala, Mohg, Radahn, Malenia, and Rykard in order to get inside the Erdtree and restore the Elden Ring and all that. Now, Malenia, is, uh, Malenia is Malenia. She has +10 million kills of players over any other boss, and it took Jerma 4 hours to beat her (When I shared my au with friends, they asked if they can summon Let Me Solo Her. They cannot.)

So in the fight, there's Heavy, Scout, Pyro, and Sniper. Heavy uses fist weapons and he's slow and tanky, so against a boss like her yes he can hit hard, but he's also a liability in that she heals when she hits you. Pyro has fire spells, and that's fine and dandy, but she does eventually target them and Heavy has to protect them, cause Malenia is Malenia. Scout also moves fast, and can hit her, but Malenia is Malenia, and she will kill him before anyone can react. So Sniper, someone who stands back and takes shots, is perfect for this, and deals most of the damage and lands many status effects on her with some special arrows he made. But Malenia knows this, and after they beat her first phase, and she becomes an avatar of rot, she singles out Sniper, and, well.

However, after his corpse is thrown on the ground. He refuses to die. He has one last job to do, and snipers dont give up. He becomes an avatar of rot, and for the brief period of time he's got left, he's going to kill this bitch so the others can get home.

His eyes are rotten, the moths are eating him alive, and the rot is spreading throughout his body, but him and Scout work together, they've got to finish her before anyone else dies.

When Malenia finally dies, Sniper collapses, more than half of him is rotted, and it's spreading fast. Scout, Heavy, and Pyro say their final words to him, and Sniper says goodbye.

[minusgangtime]

(Coming this... September?)

...

....

START OF RECORDING.

"Hey, my name is Beta! Well... if you're hearing this tape, then I'm probably dead.

You might have a lot of unanswered questions, and I'm not sure how much time I have left right now. But I want to warn you about the disease that's been going around lately.

It's called "the Vivian Plague". It's a dangerous infection that's been spread through our town. I don't know how it got here or even started in the first place.. No one does..

I decided to go out to search for the source of the disease while I go to buy some food and drinks, but unfortunately for me... I got myself infected. I'm hiding in the woods right now, and I have a mask so I won't try to infect other people.

Yeah... It's a shame... But... But...! I was able to observe some things! I started to write down what I've known about the infected ones. I think there's five stages of the Vivian Plague? Let's see if I remember... Hmm...

Okay... Stage one, nothing seems to be happening yet, but I've noticed some people feeling tired and sick.

Stage two, they'll get massive headaches, muscle pain and confusion. I think they're close to going insane...

Stage three, change in appearence and behavior. Thanks to the previous symptoms in stage two, anyone's behavior will become aggressive and feel extreme hunger. And for the appearence, change of coat and rashes on your skin..

Stage four, now they're really going insane... Their sanity is close to being gone... Your body starts to rot from the inside and outside... They start to breathe very heavily... They have trouble sleeping and have strange halucinations..

And the final stage, stage five, they're some kind of zombie now. They're not in control anymore.. They're a completely different person... All they want now is to tear you apart and eat you alive!

There's no known cure yet... I'm not sure if the hospitals are helping.. Heck, I'm not even sure what stage I'm on... But... there's always hope, I guess! There might be a rare chance that some people are immune to the infection!

If you want to avoid being infected, always wear a mask, wash your hands and stay away from anyone who's infected with the disease! And, uh... make sure you're armed! And cut off your arm or leg if you got caught, just in case!

Before I go, I just want to say... MB, Blue, Girlfriend, Pico, if you're listening... I'm sorry not coming back home... I want you all to know I'm doing this to protect you, because... the next time you see me. I might not be myself anymore. The "me" won't be me. It won't be me. It'll be a hungry, flesh-eating monster. Remember, it's not me. I really don't want to risk someone getting infected by me right in front of my eyes..

Anyways, you know I love you guys very much. Stay strong out there. Peace out, and again... I̶̝͗'̷̮̀m̷͎̑ ̵̩̿s̶̯͊o̶̧̍r̷̤̐r̸̝̋y̴̰͂.̵̨̽.̴͖͝.̴͕̑"

END OF RECORDING.

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"...Beta? Ó.Ò"