#i made him during last goretober i think

[endiecutieo6]

-Gorebruary 2023!-

Week 1

Hello everyone! So, in 2020, I impulsively took a goretober list and decided to do in February, because I just could. It ended up being a little bit of tradition on my Instagram, only not done when I genuinely just didn’t have the time. I’ll reposting these here because idk. I just wanted to.

The format ended up being a picture followed by a short story, which I’ll also put beneath each image just to make it easier to read, along with a short personal blurb!

First off: I’m going to the trigger warnings from each image here. Sorry if stuff repeats.

Day 1/Crushed: Blood, mild body horror, organs, eye trauma(?)

Day 2/Decapitated: blood, decapitation/dismemberment

Day 3/pin cushion: needles, blood

Day 4/Amputation: depictions of medical procedures, missing limbs, lots a blood, medical themes

Day 5/Experiment: depictions of medical procedures, medical malpractice, lots a blood, medical themes

Day 6/Infection: cuts, mild blood, depictions of an infection, mild body horror, mild nudity(?)

Day 7/Body horror: Body horror (duh), blood, mentions of suicide in the story segment

With warnings aside, let’s begin the fun!

“Accidents happen.

Things get bumped over, slip out of hands, and clatter to the ground in pieces. It was okay, accidents happen. They were okay.

No one knows how to happened, but the cave collapsed after a loud boom was heard. Everyone got out, asking just what happened and who did it.

After spotting Mr. Riley, whoever did it, decided to keep their mouth shut.

Personal Note: I worked my ass off on this one, and there’s only a few things that I feel I did poorly on. I wanted to start things off with a bang and oh boy did I! For the story, which wasn’t a good as I thought it was like wow, I think I made it so the cave it was caused by Martha missing her shot and hitting the wall. Freddy just happened to be the one who died.

On another note, I was only able to work as well as I could because I’d make concept sketches ahead of time and made a ref sheet. Unfortunately, I don’t have access to my computer/ forgot to email myself the files so I might have to show those another time. It made work a lot better because sketching is such a long process and having a ref made it easier to color.

“Freddy prided himself on his unwavering will. When he wanted something, he did everything in his power to get it. Life was too short to wait and have it pass by, so he did it without care for the consequences.

In the manor, things were a bit different, and he was fully aware of his disadvantages. So, he made up for it by trying to be one step ahead of everyone. If it meant setting traps, hiding things, or telling little white lies, so be it. He was not going to allow himself any weakness.

He thought certain rules would protect him, he hoped they would protect him. After all, hunters could only do so much right-“

PN: this is technically a redraw of a 2020 gorebruary piece, but this one I like much better and uses cooler colors. Story wise, it was the ripper who did it after getting a little too frustrated and losing his cool. Freddy can be a little shit after all.

“Hmm, looks like I need to make some… last minute adjustments…

I’m sure you don’t mind helping, right?”

PN: I HATE THIS ONE. I hit a wall after the first two and relied way to heavily on 3D materials (a benefit of using clip studio paint) so it just looks off. Anatomy is off, pose is still, the story is just ass I shoved in last minute because I really didn’t enjoy making this one. If I redrew it, I’d change a LOT.

“Date: 1/9/XXXX

After the XXXXXXXX incident with subject 5-8-7, and getting the limbs that had been severed from subject 5-8-7 during the incident, we have decided to take one of our test subjects and jumpstart project XXXXXXXX.

At 9:20 am of January 9th, XXXX, we subdued subject 4-0-3, who had somehow informed of our plan and was resisting aggressively. We strapped him down and, due to destruction of our medical grade morphine, had to preform surgery without it.

He is still currently in a near-catatonic state, most likely due to shock, as shown in the picture. He has been patched up, hooked up to an IV and in care. As of me writing this, he hasn’t spoken a word.

Once we have him stabilized and make sure nothing becomes infected, we can move on to phase 2.

- Dr. XXXXXXX”

PN: this, along with the rest of the images for this week, are connected! It’s a resident evil inspired story which also features that years gorebruary “mascot” as a part of the story. Also, in sharp contrast to the previous image, I LOVE how this turned out. While I’d undoubtably made a few errors, I just have a soft spot for this image.

“Date: 1/12/XXXX

We proceeded in phase 2 of project XXXXX, but not without its complications.

Once again, subject 4-0-3 resisted violently, resulting in a few bruises for our staff and some lacerations to the chest on him. We bandaged him up, drugged him with laughing gas, and attached the severed ligaments from subject 5-8-7 to him. The stitching itself is poor quality, making it easier to take off if the limbs are rejected.

Instantly, the arm bonded with the body, even allowing subject 4-0-3 to twist his wrist. The leg has yet to be as responsive, it’s only noticeable changes being the slow increase in length, presumably to match the length of the natural leg.

Something peculiar should be noted: the sudden presence of black veins that are spreading not only on the foreign limbs but on subjects 4-0-3’s body as well. Currently, we are suspecting that’s it’s a bonding method of some sorts.

Subject 4-0-3 has been more quiet than ever, seemingly docile for the time being. He’s under constant supervision to make sure any changes will be noticed ahead of time.

-Dr. XXXXX”

(Note: I’m editing the story’s only a little bit. Nothing major, just for ease of reading)

PN: I like this image a little less. The colors aren’t as contrasting as I would’ve liked them, and the shading is not great. I’d change quite a bit if I did it today, mostly in the posing n such.

“Date: 1/21/XXXX

Time: 7:54 pm

Surprise to no one, Subject 4-0-3 for a severe infection. Discoloration, redness, swelling, boils leaking pus, and other standard symptoms. It’s repulsive to look at, and definitely should’ve been noticed sooner. I feel like an idiot for not noticing sooner, especially when the scratching began.

Outside of the infection, he’s having changes we just can’t fully explaining. The black veins and consumed both limbs, and has absorbed the stitching. His eyes have become discolored, and an identified fluid is just leaking from his face.

I’m more concerned about his sudden shift in behavior. He’s a cautious and guarded man, and he was practically mute when this project finally started. Now he’s chattier than ever, though how aware he is over the situation seems up to coin toss. He’s compliant, but that only makes more worried.

Jean took the photo of him and I, and I can’t say that I’m not having second thoughts about this. As I’m writing this, I’ve come to an disturbing realization: he shouldn’t be walking around with such ease. He’s as blind as a bat, shouldn’t he be struggling more?

On that note, I’m going to go and make a quick checkup on him, maybe even recommend sedation for the foreseeable future. Then, I’ll check on subject 5-8-7, who’s already fully recovered but far too quiet.

- Dr. Wesker”

PN: Tumblr is struggling to let me type. I’m mid about this one, just doesn’t feel all that standout. I’d chance a lot about this one.

“If you’re reading this, my name is Aiko Wesker and I fucked up.

This whole project was rigged from the start; she KNEW and was LETTING it happen, and now Freddy has mutated into something as twisted as her. Half the facility is dead, and no matter how many gunshots I hear the laughter just won’t stop.

They’re keeping me alive. She’s watching me as I’m writing this, staring at me with those soulless eyes. I’d kill myself if I could, but I don’t know if they’ll allow it.

I don’t know what their plan is and I don’t know what to do. May God have Mercy on my soul.”

PN: I don’t really like this pic. I didn’t work as hard as I should’ve and you can see it. You can also see the resident evil hinspo clear as day, which I should’ve really leaned more heavily on. This storyline is wrapped up though!

—

Thank you for being interested in this mess! I’d add more but Tumblr is bugging out hard so goodbye for now! Keep an eye open for week 2!

[emogodmatthew]

ya know mitch is just so extra

he could have just vowed to never speak again when he realized no one really listens to him

but nah he sowed his mouth shut and now he hides it with his mask/bandanna 

[killemwithkawaii]

Goretober 2022 Day 10: Job hazards

Today, Mitchie got hurt.

It wasn’t anything serious, just a nasty cut on the pad of his pinky.  He'd said he wanted to do some ‘serious cooking’ so he wouldn’t get ‘rusty’ from ‘slacking off’ during the last few days. We were chatting as I watched him skillfully chop up ingredients for our dinner. He was in the middle of a thought when the knife slipped slightly out of rhythm and sliced him open. He clutched his finger tightly as blood oozed into his palm. 

“Fuck! Oh, shit, fuck me…oooh, yeah, this one is bad, real real bad…I don’t think great glue is gonna cut it this time… Eheh, I guess that’s what I get, huh…”

“Oh, shit…! Let me see…”

The cut was deep. Really deep. He admitted that he might need to go to an urgent care center for stitches. I knew that wasn’t an option, but I wasn’t about to let him find that out. If he didn’t find out, maybe he’d be okay.

“Well, I guess this is as good a time as ever…”

I pulled the well-stocked box of medical supplies from under the bed.

“Woah, where’d all that stuff come from?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise… surpriiise~”

“Uh… as sexy as it is that you got me a big-ass first-aid kit, I’m not sure if we should be playin doctor right now…”

“You really want to pay through the nose for a few stitches? I’ve got everything for them right here.”

“Not really, but...you sure you know what you’re doin? Have you done this before?”

“I’ve given them to myself plenty of times, and on bigger wounds than that.... Don’t worry, this’ll be a piece of cake!” 

“...Okay, if you say so…”

I washed my hands and wrists, laid out the tools I’d need, and snapped on some gloves as he sterilized the cut. He cringed at the first poke as much as I wanted to, and I wondered if it was from pain, or if the wave of deja vu that hit me had come over him, too... I told him to try and keep still- It would be quicker for both of us that way.

 With a few passes of the needle, his skin was sutured (relatively) neatly back together. He inspected my handiwork as I ripped the gloves off and threw them in the trash. The feeling of latex has always made my skin crawl, and it had only gotten worse since last year. They were sterile, but it felt dirty to touch him with them on... I did it as little as I possibly could. 

“Wow, you have done this before… You stitched me up pretty damn good! Thank you, Sally! Ha, maybe you should play doctor more often…”

“Heh, maybe… but how on earth will you repay all that medical debt you’re about to rack up…?

“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with something, Sallycake…~”

[weevil-wallflower]

Theodore’s self-appointed mission

Warnings: Drugging, murder, suicide mention, a lil bit of gore.

Wordcount: 3,498

A/N: To say goodbye to October, I decided to write a little story for the last day of Goretober with the prompts: serial killer + drugged + nightmare + bleeding out + death. All the characters that I used are my own. I didn’t do a good job of describing them so you can see what two of my main OC’s look like below.

Left is Zinnia & right is Theodore. Enjoy the story uwu.

Her body was wracked with shivers as she tried to lock the barn doors. But alas, her hands shook so badly that she gave up, and instead, hid in the further back corner in the darkness, behind the haystack and hoped her date wouldn’t find her. Was this punishment for what she did...?

The barn doors whipped back and forth due to the howling wind outside. The resultant banging reverberated in the barn. The woman clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her frightened whimpers and blindly stepped backwards. Her back came in contact with something solid which she thought was the wall at first. But the rational part of her mind reasoned that she was nowhere near the wall. She knew this barn like the back of her hand. Her mind kept screaming at her to run but her body was frozen in fear. She had only managed to turn around and pleadingly glance up at him when her life flashed before her eyes.

-- A FEW HOURS EARLIER --

“Oh my God, Zinnia I swear I will kill you if you--”

“--Oops. Too late!” Zinnia cut her boyfriend off when she scored a win in the multiplayer video game, they both were playing. “Can’t kill me when you’re dead, Teddy.” She couldn’t help but tease, especially when Theodore, or Teddy as she liked to call him, pulled such a cute face whenever he lost. Her smile dimmed quite a bit when she watched him pull out his phone and stare intently at the screen. She knew what it meant.

“I’m so sorry, luv. But I have to go to work in a bit.” He looked at her apologetically, which did nothing to stop her disappointment.

“But you said you’d spend the entire day with me! Do you know how rare that is?” She whined and sprawled on his lap with that pout he always found so adorable. And rare it was indeed, considering both of them had fulltime jobs.

“I know honey, but you know how working in a hospital can be…” Her boyfriend looked down at her, gently combing his fingers through her long hair. “I can spare an hour if it’s any consolation. How about a cup of tea? I could seriously use one after that horrible defeat.”

“You just need an excuse to drink tea,” Zinnia giggled as she got off of him, which turned into full-blown laughter at the look of mock annoyance he shot back at her while walking towards the kitchen, “Don’t get sassy with me you tiny little pixie!”

Very soon, Theodore returned with two cups of tea and handed her one before sitting down next to her. “Six teaspoons of honey, just as you like it Milady.”

“You know me so well,” She happily accepted the cup and they both sat there, in comfortable silence, drinking their tea.

After she’d drank more than half of her tea, her cup was midway to her lips for another sip when a feeling of intense drowsiness washed over her. She reached over to place her cup on the table, the little movement enough to make her head spin. She frowned and clutched at her forehead, her eyes screwed shut.

“What’s wrong?” Theodore immediately looked concerned as he placed down his cup and directed all his attention towards her.

“I-I don’t kn-know. I feel tired and d-…dizzy a-all of a sudden,” she replied in a slurred voice, “m-maybe I…need to lie d-down.” She tried to stand with the intention to walk to her room, but it aggravated her dizziness even more. Her lashes fluttered as she felt faint. She would’ve fallen if not for her boyfriend.

“Hey, easy there,” he steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll take you to your room. I told you that you haven’t been getting enough rest…” he chided.

She barely managed to nod before losing consciousness. Her limp body slumped against his. But Theodore did not appear to be worried about her sudden loss of consciousness one bit. Instead, he placed his arms around her and gently picked her up, holding her close to his body. He entered her room and lowered her into the bed. He tucked the blanket around her securely and leaned down, kissing her on the forehead before leaving the house.

His mind was still focused on Zinnia while he drove to his destination. He knew very well what he did was wrong. He drugged her tea. But he had to. What he was about to do was extremely risky. Not risky in a sense that he was afraid of doing it or afraid of being caught. Oh no, never that. He had been doing this for many years. He had an entire decade of experience on his hands. What he truly feared was Zinnia finding out what he does. What he has been doing all these years before he met here. Because if she somehow did, it would scare her away. And he would lose her. That is what he was truly afraid of. Which was a very new feeling to him. Never before had he ever been worried about someone finding out his secret. He would simply dispose of those who did. But not Zinnia. She was different, despite him mistaking her for being like those other women when he first met her. The more he got to know her over the past year, he realised just how different she is and how much he loves her. He didn’t know what he would do if he ever lost her. Thus because of what he’s about to do, he had to find a way to make sure she would not be even remotely suspicious of him. He would be gone the entire day and hoped the drug would keep her under during that time. He would be able to do his job efficiently without having to worry about her.

~

Theodore met with his “date” Tiffany, at her family’s farmhouse. The blonde woman insisted that their first one be in someplace intimate. He inwardly scoffed in disgust. An “intimate” dinner with him despite her having a fiancé and knowing that he has a girlfriend. Women like her, those willing to betray their partners, whether it be for wealth or sex, they clearly did not deserve the life they were given. They only end up hurting their loved ones. And for Tiffany, it was the former. Seeing how much money he earned as a neurosurgeon, she was willing to deceive her loving fiancé just for the sake of that. She first met him in the hospital he’s employed in when she visited her ill mother. He rejected her advances at first, even telling her that he has a girlfriend. But that did nothing except make her more determined. So here he was, sitting at a table across from her, having a “very lovely” dinner date at her family’s farmhouse. He was already starting to miss Zinnia. He felt utterly miserable and just wanted to go home and cuddle his sweet girlfriend…

“Theodore? Hellooo!” He was snapped out of his thoughts by Tiffany waving a hand in front of his face, her blue eyes stared at him a bit suspiciously. “You there?”

“Oh of course. Where else would I be?” He tried at a convincing smile, despite how forced it felt. It was convincing enough though, as Tiffany just giggled and said, “You looked a bit lost there. Anyway--”

“--Oh, looks like we need more wine. Let me go and fetch it for you.” He did not wait for her response before leaving his seat and striding towards the kitchen. He could not bear this any longer. He had to finish it.

Once there, he pulled out a pair of elbow-length nitrile gloves from his trousers pocket and proceeded to put them on before grabbing the largest chef knife he could find. But he was hasty, unfortunately, and didn’t think about the fact that Tiffany could’ve followed him, which she did, evident by the shocked gasp he heard from the door’s direction. “Theodore…what are you doing?”

No point in denying now. “I’m sorry, Tiffany. But I must do this.” With that, he started to walk towards her, the knife held threateningly in his hand.

The woman’s flight or fight response kicked in and she fled. In her panicked stated, she made the biggest mistake of her life, one that will cost her. She left her phone lying on the dining table where they both previously had dinner, as she dashed out of the farmhouse, heading towards the barn. ‘Maybe I can hide there…’

As soon as Tiffany hid behind the haystack in the far back, she inwardly cursed as she realised, she had left her phone back at the house. Nor did she have the keys to her car. She had no way to call for help and wouldn’t be able to escape on foot. ‘Not without him chasing me down,’ she shuddered. All she could do was hide and hope he won’t be able to find her. She had no way of predicting that Theodore of all people could turn out to be a psychopathic murderer. He appeared so normal.

 ~

Theodore cursed and gave chase when she ran away. It was his own fault. He was too careless. Too impatient. But perhaps it would turn out to be a good challenge. He noticed her phone on the table while exiting the house. Perfect.

As soon as he stepped out into the porch, he spied an axe not too far away, innocently sitting among a pile of chopped wood. That suited him well. ‘Much better than the knife,’ The man thought as he replaced his knife with the axe. ‘Now where could she have run off to?’ He looked around, inspecting his surroundings. The farmhouse was quite isolated. No sign of life aside from the farm animals. She couldn’t have gone far without him noticing. There was a barn not too far from the house. He had a feeling that’s where she ran off to.

 ~

Tiffany had no idea how long she had been waiting. It had been some time, considering her eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness within the barn. Her body shook with fright and each passing minute made her more distressed. The howling wind outside did nothing to calm her nerves. She didn’t know what to do! She couldn’t decide whether she should make a run for it or continue to hide here. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t see nor hear Theodore come up behind her with an axe until it was too late. She had only managed to turn around and let out a scream when he swung the axe at her and managed to strike her in the neck, severing her carotid artery. Almost instantly, blood gushed out of the gaping wound. Tiffany collapsed on the crimson pool her blood had created. As she lay there, her blood continued to gush out in time with the beating of her heart. At first, it came thick and strong, flowing through her fingers as they clasped the ripped flesh of her neck but no matter the pressure she applied, the blood still seeped between her fingers and oozed under her hand. After a few moments more, the blood still continued to flow out of her rapidly paling flesh, but the pulses were slower, weaker. She gurgled, trying to call out for help but alas, her breathing became slower with each passing second until it stopped completely. Her blood-soaked hand fell limp and her eyes stared vacantly up at the roof.

During that entire time, Theodore stood over her, keeping his eyes on her to make certain that she doesn’t survive. Not that there were any chances of her surviving after sustaining a fatal injury like that, but he liked to be thorough. He finally looked down and took notice of the blood splatters on his clothes. ‘Great. Just brilliant. I’ll have to dispose of this suit as well.’

“Tiff, you here?” A man’s voice called out from the barn entrance. “You’re not in the house, I guessed you’d be here…”

Theodore whipped his head towards his direction. ‘Damnit!’ He quickly but silently moved towards the other side of the barn, taking cover behind the hay bales. He spied a barn rope conveniently hanging from a beam which gave him an idea. ‘I just might be able to pull this off.’ The lack of any light inside the barn helped to keep him hidden as well. Glancing from around the corner, he spotted Jesse, Tiffany’s fiancé. He’d met the man a few times when he came along with Tiffany to visit her mother at the hospital.

“Tiff, you…” Jesse stepped deeper into the barn and shined his phone’s flashlight on the woman’s gory body. A chocked gasp escaped him. “T-Tiff…” His body trembled and his hands went slack from the shock causing him to drop his phone. That was when Theodore attacked. He stealthily walked behind Jesse and used the barn rope as a garrotte by twisting it around his neck, cutting off his air supply. Jesse’s mouth fell open, a strangled scream escaping him before he was rendered silent as the other man tightened the rope even further. Eyes wide with fear, he flailed his legs and struggled wildly but Theodore’s grip was too strong to escape from. Not to say that Jesse wasn’t a strong man himself. Standing at well over 6’2”, he would’ve successfully escaped if Theodore didn’t have the element of surprise and over a decade of experience on his hands.

Jesse clawed his fingers at the rope uselessly, his thrashing becoming more frantic, more desperate as his lungs started to ache for air. His movements slowly turned sluggish and his mind grew hazy, the edge of his vision going dark. Soon enough, his breathing stopped completely, and his body went limp. Theodore lowered him into the ground and wasted no time as he went about tying a noose around his neck. He threw the other end of the rope over one of the hanging beams and pulled until Jesse’s body hung at a reasonable height, finishing off with securely tying that end of the rope around one of the wooden pillars. Of course, he also moved one of the wooden stools under his hanging body to complete the whole “suicide scene”. And finally, he picked up the axe and forced Jesse’s limp hands to curl around its handle before placing it back next to Tiffany’s corpse. Now whenever the police would conduct their investigation, they would have enough “evidence” to conclude that Jesse murdered his fiancé before committing suicide. It was brilliant.

 ~

Zinnia was lost. Wherever she looked, she could only see a vast, grassy field. She had been walking for so long, but nothing changed. After what felt like hours of aimlessly wandering around, she was relieved to see a familiar figure in the distance. It was Theodore, standing still with his back to her. She started in his direction called out to him, but he remained silent and unmoving. When she stood right behind him, one hand reached up and held his shoulder to gently make him turn around. What she saw made her gasp and take a step back, shocked to silence. Theodore stood in front of her, holding out a human heart in his blood-soaked hand as if offering it to her. It was his own heard, bloody and still beating as steadily as ever. The gaping hole in the centre of his chest, gushing out copious amounts of blood was evidence of that. It spilt to the ground, staining the grass a deep crimson.

“W-What…what…is this…?” As soon as she began to speak, her lips trembled, and tears stung her eyes. It was a horrible sight, but no matter how much she wanted, she couldn’t look away.

Theodore stared at her so intensely, it felt like he was looking into her soul. He spoke up in a monotonous voice. “You’re the one, Zinnia. You did what no one else could. You stole my heart.”

“N-No one else…?” The young woman shook her head in confusion. She had no idea what he was talking about. Her added confusion wasn’t helping with her rising anxiety. “What d-do…what do you--”

--At that moment, she happened to glance down, unable to maintain eye contact with his unblinking gaze any longer. Instead of the grassy field, they both stood upon a (bed of corpses? Or something). Whimpering in fright, everywhere she turned, she could see nothing but dead bodies. Bloody and torn up, some missing limbs. Of the few she was able to identify, most were women; some men.

“They all failed…”

Theodore’s voice faded in the distance as Zinnia’s eyes snapped open. Heart pounding, she noticed she was laying in her bed, which she did not remember doing so in the first place. Slowly, she sat up in a sitting position and hazily looked around the dark room feeling as though she was still in a dream. Her body shook and her breathing was shallow. Whilst she tried to calm herself, she slowly lifted a hand to see why her cheeks felt wet. It was tears. She had woken up crying.

‘Teddy!’ She was fully awake now, filled with worry for her boyfriend as she remembered the horrifying image, she saw in her nightmare. He wasn’t in her room and one glance out the window confirmed it was night-time now. She scrambled to get out of bed as fast as she could to look for him. ‘He’s gotta be okay!’ Her mind kept chanting as she searched for him all over her house. But with every minute that passed, her anxiety increased. She couldn’t find him anywhere! He should’ve been back from work by now. Zinnia’s dream had left her feeling worried about her boyfriend and now she was full-on panicking. Her body trembled, and her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. She felt like she was suffocating. She slumped against the wall where she stood and just dropped down to the floor and curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her head over them with her eyes closed tightly.

The young woman took deep breaths to try and calm herself down, when she heard a flutter close by, followed by a chirp, “Zee!”

Zinnia lifted up her tear-stained face and turned her head to see her cockatoo right next to her on the floor, looking up at her with a tilted head as if to see if she was okay. “Oh Tweety…” Having a familiar face close to her, even if it was her bird, helped her calm down.

She continued to sit there for the next few minutes, gently stroking Tweety’s soft feathers from time to time. Finally, she stood up and did what she would’ve done initially if she wasn’t so distraught and panic-stricken. She got her phone and called Theodore.

 ~

Just as Theodore was done setting up the “murder-suicide” scene, his phone went off. Frowning, he checked and to his surprise, it was Zinnia. The drug must’ve worn off. It took him a bit longer than expected due to a minor setback, aka, the fiancé. But it all worked out in the end. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, the adrenalin still rushing through his blood, before accepting her call. “Hey, luv! Ho--”

“--Theodore, hi! I-I must’ve dozed off and I c-can’t believe it’s been the whole day! I woke up and you weren’t there. I just…I just got worried…” She chose not to mention her nightmare.

‘She really is worried.’ He couldn’t help but smile. She only called him “Theodore” when she was either serious or worried. “Honey, I’m alright. I’m so sorry for making you worry. There was a minor setback during the surgery but I’m making my way back home now.” He replied in a soft, soothing voice, a huge contradiction to what he did mere minutes earlier.

Zinnia breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, okay…good. I’ll make dinner the--"

“--Oh no, dinner’s on me tonight. It’s the least I can do after making you worry.”

“Yeah…I’d like that. I’ll be waiting, Teddy.”

Ah, there was that sweet smile in her voice. It automatically made him smile as well. “I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

After the phone call was over, he glanced at his blood-splattered clothes for a second time. That wouldn’t do. He can’t go to his girlfriend looking like this. He will have to drive to his house first to get cleaned up. And without wasting any more time, he left soon after disposing of any evidence that he was here. After all, she was expecting him for dinner.

~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed uwu

Credit for the pictures goes to these wonderful picrews: Link 1 & Link 2

[falseroar]

Silver and Peppermint (Part 1)

((Back in August I had the idea of trying to do AU August, only to get totally wrapped up in a different project. As a part of that, I wrote this Monster Hunter!Abe AU, a murder mystery which kind of turned out way longer than the one shot I meant it to be at about 7/8 parts in all. Might be related to a certain Goretober prompt I wrote last week, if you don’t mind probably obvious spoilers.

I’m using the same tag list as from Can You Wake Up?, although I know this is a very different thing. If you’d rather not be tagged in this or future parts I totally understand, just let me know.

Warnings for series as a whole: References to blood, death, murder, poison, and werewolves.

Links to Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, and the Epilogue.))

“A monster hunter? Really, Damien?”

Abe paused outside of the Mayor’s office with one hand outstretched to knock and glanced behind him, but the receptionist was already almost back to her desk after showing him where to go. He should knock and let them know he was out here, but as a professional he knew the importance of getting the lay of the land before jumping straight into a new case.

Plus, he was nosy.

“I had to do something,” came the rich voice that Abe recognized as belonging to the mayor, the same voice he heard over the phone just yesterday. “The police are stumped and the press is having a field day. The last thing we want is a mob with pitchforks and torches looking for someone to blame.”

“I have leads, the police are just too scared to move. They’re not used to handling this kind of thing, not with the risk it involves.”

“Which is why I called in a professional.”

It was as good an introduction as he could hope for, so Abe knocked on the office door and walked in at the mayor’s invitation.

“Ah, you must be Abe,” the man said as he rose from behind his desk and leaned over to shake Abe’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about your previous work.”

“And I’ve heard a lot about your current problem, Mr. Mayor,” Abe said, narrowing his eyes as he sized the man up. Well-dressed, slicked black hair, and a genuine smile that looked out of place on a politician. And a cane beside his desk, black with a silver top. Did he need assistance getting around? “You made the right call, bringing me in before this got any worse.”

“Please, call me Damien.” The mayor paused, his eyes flickering toward the other person in the room as though in response to a sound they made, and said, “And this is the District Attorney, Y/N. They will be working with you to find the culprit behind these vicious attacks.”

“What?” Their disbelief at those words almost matched Abe’s own. “Damien, please. Now isn’t the time for jokes.”

“I wasn’t joking, my friend,” Damien said as he sank back into his chair. “Abe is highly qualified and comes with the best of recommendations, but he doesn’t know this city like you do, and at this point you know the case better than anyone. It only makes sense that you would serve as the city’s liaison during this investigation.”

Abe cleared his throat and said, “I think some of those recommendations might have mentioned that I don’t have the greatest track record when it comes to partners.”

He tried hard not to look at the District Attorney, but he had noticed the way they looked him up and down when he walked in, the distaste in their eyes as if even his very presence bothered them on a deeply personal level. They couldn’t have been any more the kind of partner he would have chosen for himself if given the chance.

“While you do have a…worrying tendency to lose partners, I believe Y/N can handle it. There isn’t anyone in this city that I would trust more,” Damien said, smiling at the District Attorney who appeared to bite back a word at that even as they began to crack.

“…What do you know of the situation?” they asked, turning to face Abe.

“Three victims already, all attacked at night as if by a wild animal. Except wild animals don’t walk into a person’s home and lock the door behind them when they’re done,” Abe answered. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, of course.”

“It’s four now,” the DA said with a sigh. “That’s why I stopped by here. They found another one in the park this morning, less than an hour ago.”

“Sounds like the scene should still be fresh then,” Abe said, and realized he may have sounded a little too enthusiastic judging by the Mayor and his DA’s reactions. “The faster we get there, the faster we can catch the beast responsible. Think you can handle it, Partner?”

“I am not your partner,” the District Attorney said, flashing the Mayor a look when he made a sound at that.

“You two will be reporting directly to me,” Damien said. “I want you to keep me updated on everything, and I’ve already received assurance from the Chief of Police that he will provide all the manpower you need once you find the person or creature responsible. I’m counting on you.”

He had heard that tune plenty of times before. No one called him in unless the situation was truly desperate, because everyone thought they could handle it on their own until people started getting angry and looking for someone to blame. That Mayoral seat was probably starting to look unsteady if they’d already lost four people in less than a month.

But the District Attorney looked deadly serious as they nodded to the Mayor and led the way out, leaving Abe to follow in their quick, brisk steps out of the building and down the marble steps to the street below.

“How long have you known our dear Mayor?” Abe asked once he caught up and fell into step alongside them.

“…Since university,” they answered. “He is one of the few friends I have from back then.”

Probably one of the few friends they had in general, Abe thought to himself. As if sensing his thought, they gave him a frown and asked, “And how long have you been roaming around playing monster hunter?”

“Playing? This isn’t some kind of game, I save people’s lives,” Abe said. “I’ve slain vampires and werewolves, caught witches and rooted out a ghoul running a pie shop. Vicious monsters, every last one of them.”

The District Attorney stiffened and he could feel the anger rolling off of them as they crossed the street and led the way to the trees in the distance that marked the park in the center of the city. They took so long responding that he had almost give up on getting another word out of them.

“A pie shop?”

“Yeah, that one was…” He winced, putting a hand to his mouth. “Still can’t look at meat-based pies the same way. Lost a good partner in there too. Blueberry pie to the face.”

The District Attorney did a double take at that one but failed to ask any follow up questions before they arrived at the police tape blocking off the entrance to the park. There an officer recognized the District Attorney and led them both farther into the cover of the trees, off the path to where a sheet covered the body.

“We’ve already been over everything,” he said. “A pair of joggers noticed the new marks on the trees and the crows hanging around this area so they came over to investigate. Victim is a male, maybe in his thirties, same injuries as the others. We’re still looking to identify him, so we don’t know if there’s any connection yet.”

“Out in the open this time,” the District Attorney said as they strayed around the area. Abe noticed that they kept their distance from the corpse, their eyes instead focused on the claw marks on the trees, in the soft ground that wasn’t soaked in blood.

“Nowhere’s safe,” the officer muttered.

“What was that?” Abe asked.

“Nothing. Look, I should get back to guarding the perimeter. You two can find me if you have any more questions, okay?”

And with that he was gone, leaving Abe with the District Attorney and the body. Without waiting for an invitation, Abe pulled back the sheet to get a better look at what was left of the victim.

“What are you doing?” the District Attorney snapped a few seconds later.

“Getting a read on the corpse,” Abe answered without looking up. “It’s my expert opinion that he died at three-thirty last night. Strange time to be out in the park.”

“He may have been chased here,” the District Attorney said. They knelt and Abe saw they were examining something in one of the bushes.

“Nice find, Partner!” They jumped when Abe was suddenly at their side to get a better look at the clump of light hair caught in the branches of the bush. “Is this fur?”

“Don’t do that,” they protested, scrambling away as he pried off a few hairs and sniffed them. “And don’t—Did you just lick that?!”

“Wolf hair,” Abe muttered.

“How do you know that?!”

“Like I said, I’m a professional,” Abe said as he straightened up and began taking a closer look at the ground all around. “And I’ve worked with enough of these beasts to spot the signs from a mile away. Look at this, Partner.”

“Stop calling me that,” they said, but followed his stare.

And then swore softly as they knelt, one hand hovering over the massive paw print left in the soft ground for reference. Not only was the paw print nearly twice the size of their hand, the depth suggested the weight and size of the beast that left it behind.

“Werewolf,” Abe said with absolute certainty and the District Attorney’s shoulders tightened, their hand curling into a fist. “I’d know one anywhere.”

“This isn’t right,” they said softly. “Last night wasn’t a full moon, if whoever this was changed then they had to have been…They were in full control.”

“And they knew exactly what they were doing when they attacked this poor schmuck and all the others,” Abe said, privately impressed. Most people weren’t aware that werewolves had the ability to change at any time, and usually didn’t live long enough to learn from their mistake. He lost a partner once that way, and never intended to make that mistake again. “See any sign of where it went?”

They spent a few minutes trying to follow the trail in either direction, but aside from a few furrows in the ground farther into the park it was no good. Even there they could not be certain if the marks suggested the werewolf had been chasing its victim out of the park or fleeing further in. A sweep of the park proved that whoever it was, they were long gone now.

“Well, guess there’s nothing for it but to tell your mayor friend what we’re dealing with,” Abe said, brushing some dirt off of his knees after spending several minutes examining some droppings that turned out to have come from a rabbit. “Full moon’s only a few nights away. If this sicko is like this when they’re in control, I don’t want to see them the rest of the time.”

The District Attorney nodded in mute agreement, and remained silent all the way out of the park with barely an acknowledgement of the officer outside. Abe thought that was probably for the best; better to let the news come from the top than spread out from the bottom and cause a panic in the city. But he didn’t think that was the reason for the attorney’s silence, judging by their furrowed brow and shaking hands.

Just as he was about to say something that would probably make them hate him even more, the District Attorney said, “I need some coffee. Do you want anything?”

“…Sure,” Abe answered. He wasn’t about to say no to a good cup of coffee, especially if the caffeine might help calm the attorney’s nerves. Poor kid must not be used to this kind of thing here in the city, he mused as he followed them into a small shop on the corner.

One where they must be a regular customer, judging by the way the barista called, “Y/N! We were starting to wonder when we’d see you again. Your usual?”

“Please,” they said, already reaching for their wallet.

Abe ordered the darkest cup of tar he could find and winced when he smelled the cup that was placed on the counter, the scent of peppermint overpowering even from a distance.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

“Mine,” the District Attorney said, scooping the cup up and breathing heavily from the warm fumes. Almost immediately they began to relax, or at least as much as they seemed capable of.

“You gonna drink that or just inhale it?” Abe asked as he picked up his own cup and left a tip in the jar.

“Jury’s still out,” the District Attorney replied. They held the door open for him and followed him back to the mayor’s office.

“A werewolf?” Damien asked once they had finished explaining what they found to him. Or once Abe finished; the attorney still seemed less than ready to talk about it, but Abe was familiar enough with filling the silence left by less than talkative partners. “Are you sure?”

“Not a doubt in my mind,” Abe said, noting how Damien glanced at the attorney for confirmation, who gave a single nod in response. “Look, we need to get ahead of this before it gets any worse. One survivor with a bite and we’ve got an outbreak on our hands. I suggest a curfew and a kill on sight for any wolves spotted within ten miles. Do your police have access to silver bullets?”

“Yes, because we want them using the highest-quality of bullets when they put down the neighbor’s lost dog,” the District Attorney said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Don’t you think we need to put some effort into finding the culprit instead of shooting anything in the right shape?”

“Maybe they should have put a collar on it if they cared,” Abe muttered, not wanting to admit that they had a point. Even if properly armed, the cops would be jumpy if this was really their first time dealing with a were.

“Damien!” The District Attorney’s expression said they realized how much they sounded like a kid calling for the teacher, but they continued, “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

They both glanced at Abe and he shrugged. “Sure, I’ll just wait outside like I have nothing better to do with my time.”

“And we can do without the eavesdropping this time,” the District Attorney said just before the door shut behind him, causing Abe to consider that he maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been as smooth listening in as he thought.

He sighed and grumbled to himself, making sure it was loud enough for them to hear in the office before he made his way to the foyer, where he took up a seat and focused his attention on his coffee, which was probably feeling neglected by this point.

It was a good cup of coffee. Abe made a mental note to go back to that place again just as the District Attorney walked out, their expression suggesting they lost that particular battle with the mayor.

“He’s talking to the chief of police now,” they said once they stopped in front of his chair. They crossed their arms in front of their chest and looked away as they added, “The chief will probably want to talk to you about proper procedure, which I can only think means he’s never seen you in action on a crime scene before.”

“Please, I know my way around a dead body. I’ll remind you that it wasn’t until I stepped on the scene that this investigation started going somewhere.” Abe stood and tossed his empty cup in the trash can. “I’m just saying, it didn’t take me four bodies to figure out what’s going on here.”

“This crime scene was different from the last three,” the District Attorney admitted, choosing not to rise to his bait. “The others were all inside the victims’ homes, with no sign of forced entry.”

“And werewolves aren’t exactly known for knocking on doors,” Abe said.

“But if the victims opened the door, recognized their murderer and let them in, the werewolf could have changed right there in the room, killed them, and changed back to walk out again like nothing happened.”

They looked at him and Abe quickly nodded like he hadn’t been staring, watching as their eyes narrowed and then lit up at the realization. “Yeah, yeah, makes sense. One way to find out for sure, and that’s to put heels to the pavement and go to the other crime scenes and ask some hard questions. You up for it?”

“You were right about one thing back there in Damien’s office,” they said, a fire in their eyes as they opened the door. “We need to get ahead of this before it gets any worse. After you, hunter.”

((Thank you for reading!

Link to Part 2.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight ​ @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat  @catgirlwarrior ��@neverisadork  @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy  @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl  @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead  @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette  @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate ))

[theashofwkm]

Long Live the Queen (Long Live, Part One)

Summary: In which the Queen faces her punishment for the treason she committed against the King. Medieval!au

Prompt: Goretober, decapitation

Warnings: character death, infidelity mention, beheading, execution, blood mention.

Note: day seven!! a full week, wow. who’s surprised that I’m still here?

———

Water drips along the walls, pooling in the dip along the side of her cell. Settled on the hay, in her filthy dress, Celine stares stoically through the bars marking her a prisoner and at the guard watching her cell.

Admittedly, her head feels lighter, without the circle of jeweled gold sitting on it. Ruling a kingdom was no easy feat. Account for the fact that her husband cared more for his throne then he did for her, and it was awful. Lacking in any actual freedom, she feels more herself then she ever has before, in a dirty cell waiting for her execution.

A squeak comes from her right and the guard smiles when she flinches. A scolding, biting statement sits on her tongue, a retort of how she was royalty, used to silk and lavish bed quarters with servants at her beck and call then she was to wet, dirty hay and vile rodents. She’s a prisoner however, no longer Queen, so she swallows her ire.

She does tilt her chin up in indignation, sending the guard a haughty look he ignores. She has no power here. Not anymore.

But that’s what happens when one commits high treason against their king and country.

Infidelity. An unforgivable crime, when you were a Queen married to a King. She’d slept with a Kingsguard, a general. Maybe, secretly, she’d fallen in love with him. Publically, to the people, she was a traitor, not deserving of having a head upon her shoulders since she obviously didn’t use it during her affair.

To her husband, the king, she was an unfit ruler and all of her kind words she said to him in private, when they needn’t be kind, were false. She really had cared for him, at the start. It’s not her fault that his love for her had faded, turned to the kingdom he was leading. He loved the people. It made him a good king, but it also made him a terrible husband.

At the start, she had believed that it was possible for one to be both. A good ruler and a good spouse, and they were, for a while. Until the kingdom pulled him away and he turned to a mistress, instead of the wife in his bed. Leading her to turn to the general.

General William Barnum. He was so easy to care for, so easy to fall in love with. She thinks that she should regret sleeping with him, their affair. Sitting in a cold cell, disgraced, she doesn’t.

If she had the chance to do it again, she’d make sure they were more discreet. Their affair was only treason because they were caught.

Footsteps lead another guard to her cell, one with kind eyes who changes shift with the other. Waiting until they’re alone, he steps up to the bars.

“Queen Celine,” he greets nervously, bowing his head a little.

She laughs. “You needn’t bow,” she says, tone hard and bitter. “My reign is over.”

He flushes, stammering our his reply, “I know. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you.”

She stands, grime caked on her filthy skirts. Stepping to the bars, she presses her face to them, inches from the guard. “In a few hours time, I will lose my head. What could you possibly offer me?”

“General William is yet to face his own execution. He’s in the prison, facing punishment. I was,” he drops his voice to a whisper, “I could deliver a message to him, if you had something to say.”

Celine blinks, pulling back. “A message?”

The guard nods grimly. “Yes.”

“Why would you do that?” She squints suspiciously, scanning the guard for a clue to his identity, if he was one of her king’s trusted, perhaps. He seems familiar, but not like the kind of man her husband keeps close. He’s young, boyish behind the palace-issued clothes, the bit of grime smeared on his cheek, jacket hanging awkwardly off his shoulders. He’s a child, practically, new to the palace and new to war.

“General Barnes was, well, an inspiration. I worked under him and he was kind. It would be an honor to assist him one last time.”

His eyes glint from the torch burning beside the door, unshed tears. Celine nods, lips pursed. “It will only go one way, I assume?”

A shuffle of his feet. “It would draw suspicion if I were to do it twice, and well...” He looks at her in pity. “There’s not enough time for me to deliver something the other way around.”

That’s right. Her execution was at dawn and light was beginning to peer through the tiny, barred window. An hour left, if not less.

“Fine.” She nods. She’s already facing a beheading, can practically feel the blade on her neck with how close it is. There’s nothing for her to lose. “Tell him... tell him to remember the stables. He’ll know what it means.” Her eyes sting, words trembling as she tells the boy her coded message.

The boy’s face softens, at her show of weakness. It’s her first, since acending to the throne with her new husband at her side. Queens didn’t show weakness, but she wasn’t to be a Queen for much longer.

“Is that all?”

Jutting her chin out, she turns her gaze to the rough walls. “Yes,” she says, “that’s all.” Other words burn in her throat, a direct message, no coding or secrets, but they’re words she can’t say. Not even with her death in sight, her execution on the horizon.

She turns to the back of her cell and lowers herself to the floor, fighting for her composure. The uneven jagged rock digs into her back. The guard steps back to the opposite wall, resuming his position, and they wait.

Harsh, synchronized footsteps break their bubble of silence, their waiting. These guards are tougher, not young boys, but hardened men. Loyal to the king and country without fault.

Celine stands, taking on a dignified posture, like they’re here to escort her to a banquet and not her execution. Hands folded before her, demure, she stares as they dismiss the boy and pull out a string of keys.

The lock clicks, door swinging open and the men walk in, roughly grabbing her arms and dragging her to the hall. The floor is damp, under her bare feet, chilly.

“There’s no need to be so rough.” She tugs against their tight grip, bruises blooming under their fingers.

The one on her left laughs, tightening his grip. He grins, mocking. “No reason not to be,” he says, foul breath blowing in her face.

Her nose wrinkles, at the smell of his breath.

They drag her along, their grip still bruising in strength and she tells herself it’s for the power. Normally, they wouldn’t be allowed to touch her with a single finger, and now, they could grip as tight as they pleased. They find joy in manhandling a Queen, a woman of higher stature.

It doesn’t dull the throbbing any, but it helps to keep her composure. Just because she was facing the block, didn’t mean she had to throw away her façade. She was known for being coolheaded, rational. She’d die the same way she lived.

Scuffing footsteps of the boy guard follow. The door from the tower cell blows open, thudding loudly and announcing her presence. She pulls her chin up, eyeing the people in disdain as they boo her mussed appearance.

The steps to the block are few, but daunting nonetheless. The steps creak under the weight of their bodies, and they lower her to her knees before the guillotine.

Finally, she raises her gaze to meet with the King’s. He’s lounging on the makeshift throne, a smile tugging at his mouth. He’s proud to get rid of her, but she sees the bruises under his eyes. The hard clench of his fingers on the arm, the unease in his gaze.

He was a weak King, a good one, but only because he’d had a strong Queen at his side. Without her cunning, his reign would falter, weakened to his level. His precious country would turn against him. He’d regret this moment, one day. She had saved their country, had improved the life of the people. He had benefitted from her smarts, her orders. Soon, he would burn from her death.

His mistress sits on the arm of his throne, his arm wrapped around her. Celine hides her disdain, the repulsive look begging to be released.

Tightening her expression, she stares down the man who was her husband. Who had whispered words of love to her, in private, when there were no ears listening for scandal. Her husband, who was smiling as she kneeled, knees digging into the wood stage, hair a mess, dress dirty. Smiling with his arm wrapped around his mistress, the other half of his affair, the girl who got her own bed chambers for his convenience. Smiling as she was going down for a crime that was illegal only to her.

Staring in his eyes, she speaks, her final words. “You broke your vows first,” she says, tone flat and unforgiving, head raised and not lowered to the blade’s path. The guards push at her shoulders, trying to stop her from speaking. She continues. “And one day, you too, will burn for your sins.”

He’d turned from her before she turned from him. He drove her here, to the chopping block, to her death. She never would have strayed, if he was still hers. That’s what she’s telling him, and that’s the reason behind his bruises and unease. He knows what she is, what she does for the country. His doom is imminent and he knows it. It’s just a matter of time.

Face twisting, he orders the guards to get her in position. She smiles as they grab her hair and push her down. She’d gotten on his nerves, bringing up his infidelity, how he’d done it first. “You led me here!” She screams, her final cry an accusation.

Curved scoop of the guillotine, her neck sits, face turned to the floor of the stage and her words burning in the air. They will remember her, how she’d damned the King in her final moments, blaming him for her crimes. She will be known for her role in the kingdom, and they will know how it fell after her death.

She will be remembered.

Rope cut, blade singing, blood splattering, her head rolls. The crowd cheers and roars in approval. Her husband doesn’t smile.

———

Masterlist

Leave a like if you enjoyed this, please!! I’d like to keep writing for you guys, but it’s kinda disheartening that these aren’t doing well since I like some these quite a bit. Also, yes, another series starter. I know. One shots aren’t my thing, okay?

TAGGING: @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @electricprincess888 @berrie-b @mackenziplier @gerardwayslips @risiskifi @cawestad @theinvisiblespoon @californiakxng @just-another-starfish @superawesomeamazingname @moonstonefox12 @bones-and-tomes @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @itsbumblebunnybee @noisyfreakpersonlover @nightmarejim @schuyleryette @withjust-a-bite @statictay @muraae (tags are open)

[slurrmp]

1/10 - extra limbs.

so i decided that i am going to do goretober this year for my star wars universe ! i don’t actually have a lot of expereince WITH gore and writing horror, so this first one probably sucks major a s s, but i hope that you guys stick along with me through this spooky month !

under the cut at the bottom of the work, is the prompt list that i am using ! warnings: excessive blood, amputation.

word count: 1112

Gwen didn’t really know what she was expecting when everyone came barging into her medbay. Well, when she says her medbay, she means the medbay that she frequents on the destroyer that they were currently stationed on. The brunette had heard that the battle down on the current planet had been bloody and a lot more casualties had occurred more than what they were used to, but she didn’t think it would be this bad.

Clones were piling in and Gwen suddenly wished that she was back with the 501st, with her group and Anakin. Somehow it always seemed like they didn’t experience as many casualties as any of the other clone squadrons did. Med droids were rushing about the place in just as fast pace as were the human medics and Gwen was so lost, watching everyone rush by with broken and wounded soldiers on stretchers that she didn’t snap back into action when she heard her name being called.

More than once.

“Dock we need you over here!” Brown eyes snapped to the left and her brain finally broke itself out of the fog it had been under and she spotted Cody, the normally calm and cool-headed commander wasn’t looking so hot. Blood was rushing down the side of his face and most of it was pooling in the corner of his eye. Gwen made her way over and reached out, as she placed a hand against the right side of his head but he pulled away.

“Cody, you’re bleeding.” Her voice held the tone she always wore when she was in Doctor mode. She held authority and just a slight bit of concern in her voice. But the clone commander gave her a look and nodded his head back towards the bed to the left of them.

“Yeah, but not as badly as Eyeball.” Gwen let her worry subside as Cody managed to stand on his own two feet for longer than five seconds, no signs of a concussion though. She would have to have a closer look at him when the chaos died down, he should be fine, but the medic knew that he would need to have stitches later. She would probably need Obi-Wan around to help convince Cody to sit still for more than thirty seconds.

Gwen nodded her head in reply before she turned her attention onto Eyeball. Moving closer to his bed, Gwen noticed his face scrunched up in pain and her heart tugged inside her chest as she noticed the sudden lack of limb on his right arm. “Hey, Eyeball,” Gwen spoke softly, leaning closer, making sure to block out every noise that could possibly be heard. “Eyeball.” She murmured again and the clone trooper opened his eyes, the pain still etched onto his face. Gwen then let her hand grab ahold of his left hand and squeezed onto it.

“Dock,” His voice was slurred and Gwen couldn’t help but wince, his entire right arm was gone, possibly blown off by one of the droids that they had been facing. It couldn’t have been a lightsaber wound, the cut (from what she could tell) wasn’t clean enough plus the amount of blood that had been splattered onto Eyeball’s armour was evidence enough. The brunette knew that even if they had the limb, there was very little chance of being able to put it back. It would have needed to be placed into an ice-cold container straight away. Gwen looked up at Cody and when he shook his head, she knew that they hadn’t even recovered it. The bacta that was placed over the stump where his arm would have been attached to his elbow was nicely done, but the blue was turning red incredibly quick. “Dock, thought you were with the 501st today.”

Gwen knew to never get emotionally attached to those that she worked with and those that would eventually become her patients, even with the clones that she barely had any interaction with, but during the war - during this amount of intimate time together, it was hard for the doctor to even fathom being cold-hearted and distant from them. “No, no they reassigned me today. General Skywalker thought I deserved a break.” It was then that a Med droid had made itself known, Gwen wasn’t skilled enough to fix an amputated arm, she wasn’t that kind of a doctor. Eyeball laughed until he started coughing, Gwen leaned back but still held firm onto his left hand.

“Well - aren’t we lucky.” It was then that Gwen suddenly felt a hand against her back and the brunette let her head tilt to the side to look behind her. But she didn’t even need to catch a glimpse of the sandy coloured robes to know that it was Obi-Wan. A sad smile split across her lips, as a soft sigh of relief escaped her, she had been worried about him. Her connection with the Force seemed to have been preoccupied with all the clones that were buzzing about in the medbay that she had missed the ever-living presences of the Jedi Master.

“Yeah, you are,” Gwen replied, looking back down at Eyeball, then to the bloody stump once the droid had peeled away the bacta packs.

“I will take it from here.” The med droid announced before Gwen was pulled away, his left hand still firmly wrapped around her own. “We will take care of him, Doctor.” Gwen kept her gaze on the clone, before Obi-Wan’s presences within her mind and the hand on her shoulder pulled her away even more.

“Okay. Yeah.” She mumbled before she gave Eyeball one last squeeze. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be here to look after you when you get out.” And with that, the droid wheeled the clone away, further into the medbay and everything suddenly felt still and quiet.

She didn’t even notice that her hands were suddenly covered in the clones blood. It was still wet and sticky and she tried not to focus too much on it, otherwise, the overwhelming urge to wipe it off and to get clean would rear its ugly head. Gwen knew that this wouldn’t be the last time she would get these soldiers blood on her hands. But it still wasn’t a nice feeling. “Dock! We need you!” A soft sigh escaped from her lips as Gwen turned around, looking at Obi-Wan who had placed his hand over his beard, like he normally did when he was either thinking or worried. Or possibly both. Gwen didn’t want to see any more broken or torn off limbs today - but that just might be the understatement of the year.

[bluethornefics]

Goretober Drabble - Barbed Wire

In which Reboot Vergil learns a little bit more about what a fate worse than death entails. Set during the Downfall DLC.

I am very sleepy, but I thought doing a little Goretober stuff would make for some fun practice. Warnings in this one for moderate blood, gore, and some eye trauma. But not to ReVergil. He’s doing about as well as he can in this.

I may have taken some liberties with headcanons and things, but shhhh, it’s fine.

~2k words

I’d always heard about people falling into Hell. Just falling. No one ever made mention of all the pushing that happened to cause that. The next time I saw Dante, I would give him a taste of what it was like to have Rebellion shoved through his chest.

First I had to find a way out of wherever the hell I’d wound up this time. Hell needed fewer glowing warp doors and more signs and maps. Following the path of the doors hadn’t necessarily led me astray up to that point, but I never felt certain I would land where I needed to be.

Every new door I stepped from brought me to a plane that was nothing like the last, yet they were all twisted in much the same way. Hell was all fragments suspended in air and nauseating colors. The worst were the planes where distant screams and pleas filled the air.

But this was Hell, after all. I was only surprised I didn’t see more suffering.

I didn’t see much of anyone.

Just Dante.

I had seen Kat, but she was gone now.

I wasn’t sure if seeing myself counted.

The demons certainly didn’t count. I was getting damn tired of running into them. I couldn’t go ten feet without a swarm of the bastards appearing, and every swing of my sword against them felt like a hook had snagged into my wound and pulled along the length of my arm.

I was so tired of pain.

Through yet another door - I’d lost track of my path ages back - a new breed of demon greeted me along with a distant chorus of wails. I supposed it was different anyway. It wore a different mask than I’d seen before and carried chains, but it was weak and died screaming like those it must have tormented. Demons were all so pathetic.

I saw no reason to seek out any of the distant voices. I had my own pain to manage, and it was their own damn faults if they’d been trapped. They deserved their fates. But I would not be so weak. Dante would fall by my hand. He would suffer and bleed just as I had. Let him beg, even. I would have loved to hear it, the whimpering, the realization that he had nothing left. God, I would savor that.

“A smile like that isn’t a good sign. You mustn’t let this place get to you, Vergil.”

My steps froze, my spine rigid. Yamato was in-hand before I had even registered the meaning of the words, spoken in such a rasp that no tone touched them. 

If the thing hadn’t spoken, I wouldn’t have glanced twice at it, wouldn’t have acknowledged that it had any sort of human form. With all the barbed wire strung up around it and in it, it looked more like a hunk of fleshy meat held there. Wire laced through its throat, hands, legs, cheeks, and was even buried into a mushy, glistening mess that should have been an eye. The thing must have been there for some time because skin had grown over some of the barbs. The slight movement of its breathing had torn open wounds along its chest where the wire threaded through stark ribs. So much old, dried blood covered it that the new blood looked like nothing but a fresh coat of paint.

Perhaps I should have called it a he, but it was a demon. That much was obvious from the crooked horns that stemmed from black hair matted with blood. It had a tail as well. Pale and reptilian, it was longer than I was tall. Iron spikes pinned it to the ground, the only part of the demon not suspended by the wire.

“You know my name,” I said, my eyes narrowed. Even with the demon clearly immobile, I raised Yamato between us. This made it laugh, though the sound was strangled like a dying engine.

“Of course I know your name. I gave it to you.”

As though he’d lunged at me, I fell a step back. “Lies,” I hissed because it was all I could think. He was some trick, some illusion. I pressed Yamato’s tip up under his chin, but he smiled enough that the barbs sliced him a more wicked grin.

“Are you going to torture me or kill me? I can assure you I’ve been through worse than anything you could do, Son.”

“Don’t you dare call me that! My father was damned to the deepest pit of Hell. There’s no reaching him. Don’t think you can fool me-”

“You’ve fallen far.” His smile faded, sorrow filling his eye. “You still have some life in your blood. You can still escape if you keep fighting. I don’t know what fate befell you, but it seems you’ve suffered greatly. I-”

“It was your fault!” The anger hit me like a bullet train. If this bastard wanted to pretend to be my father, then so be it. The fool must have thought I still had some love for that demon. No, my father was worse than Kat, worse than Dante. Burying Yamato in his shoulder, I felt the satisfying crackle of his bones shattering under the blade. He didn’t flinch, didn’t make a sound. That just made my anger burn brighter, so I dragged Yamato down along his arm, snapping the hold of wire wound around it. The barbs tore through him as they unraveled. “You separated us,” I continued. “It’s your fault. If we’d been together, he would have understood. He would have listened to me.” But it didn’t matter anymore. He’d picked his side. He was nothing to me now - just like this demon pretending to be my father - just another demon to slaughter.

“Then something happened between you and Dante,” he said. “I see. You’re right. I shouldn’t have separated you. I thought you would both be safer that way, but it seems not.”

“Dante will be safe in death soon enough,” I spat.

His eye narrowed in on me, and for a moment, the simple gesture made me feel as though I were the one strung up and sliced open for him to see. “Hm, one of them has its claws in you. I will accept your rage. Kill me or torture me as you wish, but do it under your own influences, not some bastard Hollow’s.”

Before I could bite that this was my will, that I’d lain awake night after night in the orphanage despising him even when I didn’t remember anything about him, his ruined arm shot out and wrenched Yamato from my grasp. Such a quick, effortless action, he could have slit my throat before I even realized the blade was out of my hand.

Instead, he slashed the wires suspending him and dropped to his knees. His feet were far too weak to catch him. “What a pain,” he sighed as I took slow, retreating steps. My eyes flashed over him in search of the best method to retrieve Yamato. He was already a mess. If I just knocked him down-

“Here, you can have this back.” He held the grip out to me. “It won’t do me much good from here. Give me a moment. This might be a little messy.”

I couldn’t think of what else to do, so I took Yamato back and watched as he gripped the wire piercing his cheek. With a sharp tug, he ripped a long string of it free of where it had trailed down into his throat. It was coated a pure red, and wet hunks of something clung to the barbs. I couldn’t look beyond that, but the sounds were enough to churn my stomach.

His every breath gargled, the wire scraped along his bone, and each segment came free with a wet squelch. I thought I was beyond finding much of anything sickening, but the air was a bit too warm.

“Maybe you should sit a moment. You’re looking quite pale. Well, paler than usual anyway.” He had a voice again, a haggard but warm tone that burned my mind with recollections of strange bedtime stories and too-soft scoldings. “Sorry about all that. I do wish you could have seen me on a day when they were feeling a little less creative.”

“They?” I echoed, my voice a whisper.

“Oh yes, my torturers. You killed the latest batch, actually. I do appreciate that.”

When I managed to drag my eyes back toward him, I found him testing the spikes in his tail. His wounds were already mending on their own. The winged brand on his back glowed without any sword in its center. He kept his left eye closed, though.

“Are you really him?” I asked. “Sparda?”

“The one and only,” he said through gritted teeth as he yanked the first spike free. “Well, actually, it’s not an uncommon name, really.” He wrenched another spike free. “Ah, my poor tail. They’re lucky they died by your hand. I would have given them much slower deaths.”

I felt like I’d taken a blow to the head. “You were supposed to be impossible to reach. Mundus trapped you beyond help.”

“My boy, you are in much deeper than you seem to realize.” After tearing each spike free with little more than a wince, he stood and faced me. His brow furrowed at the sight of my chest. Every logical part of my mind screamed at me to run or fight as he pressed his filthy hand over my heart, but I could not bring myself to move. “I always knew that nephilim could not live a life free of suffering, but it still pains me to know you’ve been through so much. I wish I could have given you a better life.”

He spoke of my pain as though it was far worse than the years of unfathomable torture he’d experienced. A laugh bubbled from my throat. “Father, you had wire down your throat. I practically cut your arm in half. How could this be anything to you?”

“Because it is you.” His eye rose to meet mine. It was blue as the hottest burning flame and just as scorching. “I have never mattered. My body, my life, they are worthless, but you are my son. You are all that I am worth and all that I have left. You are all that matters to me.” His hand pressed firmer to my chest, but no pain came. Only the warmth of his palm. “And your heart breaks so easily.”

“Dante did this,” I whispered.

“Then Dante shall mend it.” Pain filled his smile. “You two were always fighting. How many times did I have to call a truce?”

“Father, you don’t understand-”

“I understand that I’ve got some Hollows to rip in half. Ugh, I can smell them all over you.” His nose wrinkled. “I fucking hate those things. Apologies for the language.”

“Hollows?”

His tail swam up to coil around my arm, gentle as his touch had been, but I could tell it was a leash to keep me from wandering as he started off toward the glow of the next door. “Yes, there’s much to do, my boy. I’d rather like to find some new clothes too. And a shower! I don’t think I’ve ever missed anything as much as bathing. But first, those Hollows. Do not worry. I will take care of them for you.”

I should have been annoyed at him treating me like a child again. I should have wrenched myself away and told him off. Trusting someone again was foolish. It could only end in more suffering, and yet, walking at his side was such a relief that even the ache in my chest eased.

Even if it was all a lie, at least for now I didn’t have to sink deeper into Hell alone.

[joongneojis]

× 01: Gashes / Lacerations ×

A memory …?

First part of my Goretober 2018. homies we are already starting off late

Finally being able to catch a breath after such a long time, the young man hastily shut the door and gave a long sigh he had been holding in for so long. It felt like a long time, anyway. In the evenings, he could occasionally enjoy the silence that felt miles away during the day.

He resisted just slipping down onto the ground. Even though his parents were out for business-related reasons, it still felt like they were watching even now, forcing him to keep up a proper attitude. The old people in town always told him what a blessing his good looks must be, and he guessed being seen as conveniently attractive by others did help out their small local business. But people were so shallow. In a place as remote as this one, the people who avoided said business for the same reason – disdain being their motivation – nearly cancelled out the benefits.

“Why doesn’t he just choose a girl already,” he could hear a voice echoing in his mind as he saw the murky image in the mirror after lighting the oil lamp. He felt himself frown, yet couldn’t see any of it, and a blurry hand reached out to touch the reflection.

“There’s nothing behind that face. I don’t get why people pay him any attention at all.” The hand stopped right before reaching the glass, and he let it fall back to his side, turning away. What use was there thinking about this anyway?

“No matter where you go here, they won’t stop talking about him. We might not have much, but one’d expect people to have other worries.” Sometimes it would work to ignore the snippets of gossip that would keep replaying in his head, but sometimes it wouldn’t. It seemed like it was one of those nights that the chirping cicadas would mix with the voices as he worked again.

“And one’d think the ones who already have someone wouldn’t do it at least.” Yet even though nothing should be out of the ordinary, something gave him an eerie feeling he couldn’t shake off.

“But what do I know?” As he approached the main room of their modest house to finish some work for the store he had left, lamp held in front of him, his uneasiness wouldn’t lay off; for now, he blamed it on the darkness enveloping him.

“Even my girl keeps gushing about you.” He stopped after setting foot through the doorframe. The light of the oil lamp hardly reached the low table on the floor, but he could make out the barest of features of the object waiting to be finished. It appeared to be … some kind of fabric? Why couldn’t he remember what it was? Yet there was something else he was wondering. He hadn’t noticed just when the voices he had thought to be in his mind had migrated into one real voice right next to him, just beyond the doorframe.

“And I won’t have that,” were the words he heard before a sudden impact in the back of his head made him drop the lamp. He was sure it must have hurt to be hit like that, but why couldn’t he feel the pain …

“You might’ve stolen someone else’s girl, but you won’t have mine.” The figure yanking his head back was illuminated by the fallen-down lamp, yet all he saw of its face was muddy. He felt his mouth moving, but he heard nothing.

“Whatever you used this thing here for, you won’t be needing it any longer. Or that face of yours, for that matter.” Dizzy from the hits, he felt his limbs moving, aimlessly struggling. But as those were struck in a similar fashion, he felt like giving up, and everything fell silent … he couldn’t even hear the cicadas anymore.

“I wonder how she’ll weep once she hears of this.” With one final hit on the head, he felt his consciousness slipping away. He heard some heavy object being thrown onto the ground near him, but he didn’t care enough at this point. The last thing he noticed was a sharp, cold object piercing his facial skin. If he could only feel the pain, it might have been enough to keep him awake despite the trauma, but there was nothing. So his senses returned to nothing.

[frances048]

My 2017 Summary Of Art by Fran48

Blank meme : https://dustbunnythumper.deviantart.com/art/2017-Summary-of-Art-BLANK-718337918 ..Here we go again..Another year is nearly at it's end so I decided once again to do this meme to show how far I've come with my art this year :) Here are previous years' memes if you're interested :D 2012: https://fran48.deviantart.com/art/2012-Art-Summary-Fran48-343638908 2013: https://fran48.deviantart.com/art/2013-Art-Summary-Fran48-422621435 2014: https://fran48.deviantart.com/art/My-2014-Summary-Of-Art-Fran48-503896864 2015: https://fran48.deviantart.com/art/My-2015-Summary-of-art-578886586 2016: https://fran48.deviantart.com/art/Fran48-s-2016-Summary-Of-Art-654040723 This year, like last year has been pretty bad This year in a nutshell..but I'm hoping (and praying) that surely next year can't be nearly as stressful..maybe I'll jinx myself doing that though ^^;..I managed to fit in artwork each month though, maybe I just did it as some form of stress relief this year..idk but seeing improvements and new pieces that I was satisfied with, definitely made me feel a lot better ^^ The resources I used this year included Ms paint, Watercolour paints, coloured pencils, mechanical pencils, fine liner pens, pencils, coloured pens, chalk , charcoal ,crayons, camera, phone, video camera, felt tip pens, and much later in the year, Paint tool sai, which I also used to edit this along with Ms paint.. January That month, I did quite a few paintings using the art set my Grandad bought for me last Christmas...They included the featured picture : , a few other naruto pictures,Painting Hokage NarutoKakashi and Obito painting a gravity falls picture Bill cipher paintingand Ruby rose picturePainting of Ruby Rose RWBY. I also drew some digital pieces and created a Naruto gifNaruto Hokage Gif..I also did traditional sketches and used some charcoal.. We also went to see the comedian Graham Fellows as his character John shuttleworth this month which was so funny and I drew a sketch of him too :)John Shuttleworth sketch February: That month I got into Mirai Nikki and Star wars animated series (recommended by my dear friend :iconkoikii: ^_^ )as you can see by the featured images: I also started watching some of sgt frog and drew art from it:KururuDororo and also finished watching One Punch man and drew a few pieces from it, including a speedpaint:Painting of TornadoSaitama ok colouredSpeed o sound sonic speedpaint I also continued to draw digital pieces and paintings including a Haku and Zabuza reunion piece which I was really proud of :When a person has something they want to protect March: In March, I got into Miraculous Ladybug so drew fanart of it including the featured picture: Marinette-Ladybug I also drew a few sketches that month and Naruto shippuden ended ;w;..Noooooo so I drew this pic..;w;..Naruto uzumaki wedding day- The end of Shippuden I also was thinking of getting to Evangelion in March so I drew Shinji..Shinji Iraki.I didn't draw much around this time as I was extremely busy struggling with my honours degree coursework ;w; April During April I continued to do some paintings and sketches but also continued to create digital drawings such asIva one pieceNarusasu -each other's coloursGiroro Sgt Frog Speedpaint (youtube link)...and the featured pictureTrafalgar law time skip I watched Evangelion during April and finished the main series feeling extremely confused ...I also did a Beamish vlog https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SZIAOa7X9k and took a lot of photos May In this month, I got into four different anime series as you can tell by the featured pictures: Kuro blue exorcistYuuri- Yuri on iceShiho Kimizuki They were, Danganronpa the animation, Blue exorcist, Yuri on ice and Seraph of the end (as told about by the awesome :iconrealrockandrolla1996: :D ) , because of this I drew some fanart from the series, mainly traditional pen drawings and ms paint drawings. I also continued to do photography when I could. June That month I turned 23! XD I got up to date with Attack on titan and created a couple of paintings of characters from the series.Ymir and HistoriaAnnie leonhart painting I also continued drawing Danganronpa pieces (two of which are featured :Gundam Tanaka Teruteru Hanamura) I also got up to date with Puella Magi Magica Madoka in June , as well as Kill la kill. So I drew a lot of ms paint, pen drawings and charcoal pieces. I also went to Sunnycon this year in Two cosplays..Mikasa and Konan and produced fanart for Bryce Papenbrook and Jessie and James' voice actors to sign..They loved my pieces which filled me with a lot of pride and made me so happy <33 I also took a lot of photos from Sunnycon so please feel free to check them out in my gallery ^_^ or in my sunnycon journal entry for this year ^^ Sunnycon 2017 :D July This month I finally graduated from Uni with a First Class Honours degree and published paper and not long after that I went on holiday to Scotland and lost my Grandma ...so I did most of my drawings later in the month..^^; I did a few digital pieces including my Mephisto speedpaint : Mephisto Youtube Speedpaint (link below)in July  but mainly did Photography and traditional pieces..my traditional pieces were drawn in fine liner pen and mechanical pencil and helped me practise shading techiques I also got through all the Ouran high school host club anime August Did A few speedpaints this month including the Oma one: Kokichi Ouma- Youtube speedpaint :D (link below)and started watching Magi and drew fanart from it..I also continued drawing Danganronpa artwork and a few ms paint drawings too :) and continued writing more chapters for my fanfics. September Continued drawing digital ms paint drawings including the two images featured:Haruhi speedpaint(link below)Yukio Blue exorcist youtube speedpaint(link below) Also continued drawing traditional artwork and started watching Rosario + vampire season 1 properly. I also did a Sarada Uchiha week challenge which I really enjoyed as I love Sarada so much and loved drawing her and coming up with different ideas to meet the themes :3   https://fran48.deviantart.com/gallery/64137303/Sarada-Uchiha-week-2017 Also later in September, on the recommendation of a deviant here, I started trying to use paint tool sai to produce some pieces :D : I also watched the Studio Ghibli film 'When Marnie was there' and drew a piece to show my appreciation for it ^_^ I also tried to incorporate Art deco into one of my pieces October: Through October, I worked on Inktober: https://fran48.deviantart.com/gallery/64332793/Inktober-2017 and Goretober : https://fran48.deviantart.com/gallery/64332822/Goretober-2017 Similtanously. I also did my very first drawing Livestream on instagram which was of K1-B0 from Danganronpa v3 https://fran48.deviantart.com/gallery/?catpath=%2Fflash&edit=0&q=livestream and started making song covers which I converted to Flash files. I continued to create ms paint and paint tool sai art, one piece was a Mental health awareness piece which I created as I was struggling massively with my anxiety at the time and needed to express it :Ruminiation-Mental health awareness I also did a few speedpaints including the two featured in this meme. I also went on holiday during October and made another Vlog  The suprise you guys were waiting for-VLOG! and took quite a few photos :) I also started doing Monthly polls for my watchers to decide on which speedpaints I should do first.. November: That month, I continued to create speedpaints and digital some of which were featured in this meme. Himawari speedpainting (link below).Moka speedpaint (link in description) Madoka and KyuubeyI also finished Rosario + vampire series 1..I started to create some Christmasy themed art as well as some black and white drawings and a few digital pieces. I also saw Paddington and watched Paddington 2 at the cinemas so created the piece featured due to my enjoyment of the film ^_^Paddington I also watched some of the playthrough of Ultra despair Girls and drew some art from it ^^ In addition, I also created an epilepsy awareness picture a day after having a seizure at work to make people aware of how debilitating it can be.. Even though I did a few different pictures throughout November, I started my apprenciceship then and so I drew inbetween work (though very tired) and at weekends so I wasn't as productive as previous months.. December: This month..I continued watching the current season of Rwby and drew two speedpaint fanarts from it, one that is featured in this meme Cinder fall (Youtube speedpaint :D) I drew some mechanical pencil drawings including Danganronpa, Naruto and DC comics pieces, I also saw all of the film Chicken Run all the way through for the first time and drew a picture of its main protagonist.. and finally got around to painting again after breaking up from work and managed to create this canvas piece of Rin Okumura from Blue exorcist:Rin Okumura finished Overall I feel I have got into quite a few different fandoms and series this year and tried different things with pieces such as incorporating art deco style in, using paint tool sai and livestreaming though I don't feel I have improved much this year but hope to do so in the following years.. Thank you guys for supporting me, your help has meant a lot to me ^_^ <33 Happy new year to you all

[snakesnbites]

Story of the Century

Synth/Heist AU Words: 1,421 Goretober Day 4: Unconventional Weapon Warnings: Unreality, death themes

Izuru isn’t very careful going home after curfew. 

   The buzzing in zir pocket let's them know there's someone out there thinking about them, that someone bothered to have a single thought of them and spend time to write out something. Its probably Rangiku, his dear sister, perpetrator of bad habits, uncouth acts and untouchable fashion. A release from the realities of the world by physically punching it the the face. Renji? A dog somewhere in the night howls, a reminder of the dogs he's willing to utilize in quick, painful revenge. Snarling and howling, striking fear despite them not even being near you yet. Izuru knew their secret, if they knew you, you could just lay among them and they would lick your face like puppies.    Just as long as you remember exactly what those teeth could do.    Shuuhei? Might be, he's rather consistent in his messages, timely and punctual, it feels like the wrong time of day for him to send his regards, however... He tended to be busy in the evenings with his own work.    Or perhaps its from Hinamori? She’s been worrying herself too much over zem. Her sweet demeanor genuine and pure, something ze never thought possible after the horrors they both had faced. Looking at her is like looking at hope, that there's a light at the end of the tunnel.    If she could do it, then so can I.    But Izuru knew that wasn't true. Ze couldn't seem to move on, seem to move forward, feet stuck in the moor of emptiness and heavy sorrow, a black tar that devoured zir limbs as ze tried to walk forward.    Like right now, zir steps were slow, the only sound in the chilled air. At least, ze thought so, usually there was no one roaming the streets at this time, the curfew keeping people in-- It got dangerous at night, they would report, that its for the safety of civilians.    Is it really? A counter report ze have made recently in the paper, noting and showing evidence of increased law enforcement activity during the time of curfew. More then necessity than needed for just some simple rounds to make sure wily kids were following the law. They had gotten an interesting email from Souske Aizen, the head of police a few days later, in layman's terms it was trying to reassure that these laws all had nothing but the public in mind. Keeping the synths and criminals like Gin Ichimaru (the slight was not lost on Izuru) at bay--    Or stray journalists it seems.    Ze saw the lights first, the only cars out now were police-- But ze weren't quick enough to pull into the alley way, the bright spot light having caught the blur of zir dress shoes and slacks.    Fuck. The red white and blue flashed ominously through he sliver of the alleyway entrance. Izuru's pace picked up with zir heartbeat, they were several blocks away still from home and a shout sounded out behind zem.    If ze were found breaking the law, the stolen research papers under zir arm-- The research would ruined, it will be seen as nothing more than a hoax created entirely out of ire and rumor. Breath hissed sharply passed zir teeth, a shout rang out behind zem, a demand to halt.   Its not a demand ze follow very well.    This probably won't be the last time ze get in trouble for it either, but now ze had to focus, duck into the shadows of garbage reciprocals as a blinding fog light, praying for a miracle that they would look down a corner just so ze could creep to another shadow.    Zir hands tightened over zir bag, hands clammy and shaking as ze held zir breath, so afraid ze would hear it as rapid footsteps got louder and louder.    “What the hell--” The lights stopped moving, stopped their search and focused on a spot passed Izuru's hiding place, and something strange happened. Lights began flickering, plunging the alley in a strobe effect, dimming and relighting, static was coming over the single officer's radio. “ O̵̘̹͈f̗͉f̻̻̯͓̩-̛̞̫̘͇ ̨e̛̙͎̱͉͇͚̲r̰͇͘,͓̱͔̟́ͅ ͙̯̮̫͚̱-͓͡-̧ơ͍̼̝̻ ͕͕̖y̲͍͙̠͈̫ͅo̻̣-̭̺͉̻͎ͅ-͖̘͙͚͉͔͢ ̥̙̮̦̮̗̳e̷̱̭̯̞̜̝ͅa̟͚-̶͎̰̮̱ͅ ̹̞͓m̴e̳̯̳?̶̬̜ ”    The sound was deafening white noise, screaming suddenly from a type of interference.    “Dispatch do you copy, dispa--”    Izuru titled zir head, peering over the rim of the rotten smelling dumpster bin ze were pressed against, the man's face panicked with the glimpses they could see in the flickering light.    But something else seemed to come from the radio and the speakers of the police car that also seemed to be affected by this unknown force, and a voice, tenor and distorted with the white noise and feedback called out in the night:    “ L͇̘̖̥̗̞ḭ̰̝̦̼̘͠t̯t̟̗̀l̙̖͔͖ͅe͇͙ ̼pi̮g҉̞̣̥͖̮,̣̜̱͔ ̢l͉̤i̼̖͍̠͞t̶͔̪̮̩t̩̼͙̙̲ͅl͕e̬̭̗̖͙ p̠͞i̘̝̼̣ģ̺̤̖̣ͅ,̴̱̘͕͎̘ ̣͇̗̗̜͘y̼̭͖͔͉̤o̹̼̥̕u͎͔̙͓̝ s̺h҉̱͔̝͔o͕̙̝͚̺̬̖͞u̧l͏̙̗̠̼̣d͖͡ ҉̝̖ó̙̬̦̗͙͇͈f͚̯͈̮͓̘̲́ ͓̭̦̘͢s҉͎̲͖̪̮̻t̜́ą͕̰y͖̮̫͟ͅe͎͚͙̱͘d̩͉̬ ͔͇̤̭h̷̗̪͙͈̼o̠̞͔͙̙mẹ̮̝̜̬̦͘.͔̳͇͎̙.̙̥.̢͖̩̫̫̠̻̫ ”    Darkness enveloped the area, even street lamps further down the way seemed to have gone out. The radio ceased and all that filled the void was a curse from the officer and the sound of a gun cocking. Izuru found zir heart in zir throat, it pulsed rapidly, and they nearly mistaken slow foot falls as part for the erratic rhythm. Dear gods, what was going on?    “Show yourself! I am with the Harbor view city police! That is an order!” Static again, a strange clicking noise came from the radio upon the man's breast.    “L̢̯̰̳͕̱͉i̶̲͈̥̞̼̹t̡͔̲t̰͢l̷̪̜͇͓͍̜̪e̙̼̣͇͟ ̸̩̼̙͖̮̳̬p̛̦i̫̘̯͈̤̲͍g̛̪, ͉̖͚͚̱͓̳li̻t̼̲̝̯̺̺͚͟ṱ̶̜l̞e̢ ̞͍̼̻pi̬͕̤g,͎̯̬̞ ̶̙̥͕̼͕u͔̤̟͈͇͓n̯͘w̩̤̯̘i̺s̶̖̮͉e̱̤̼͉͉͜ ̬̠̰̩̗͇̬t҉̼o͔͎̗̦̠͖͠ͅ ͔̟c͏̲̹̲o͓̭͝m̻ḛ̸̱ ͚͖̞̰̼͡a͎̳̥̩̹̠ḷ̢̹̼͎̻one̲̮̞̺̜̕.̴͓͕.͕͕͉̙̫ͅ.̠̘͙̺͔͡ ”    The sound of rusted metal screeching against concrete, only bringing in brief moments of dim light from the sparks, a tall figure outlined in the orange ambiance, like a nightmarish shade. A horrid, crackling cackle sounded over the radio, the speaker seeming to break, unable to take the harsh frequency.    “Do̬̥͎͍͕n͈'̼͡t̯̮͈̠͇ ͙͇͟y̦̘̹̘̪̗o̟̫u̻̗̬̖͈ ̶̙̼̞̩̦̹͍k̘̲̝͕͙̟͢no̤͜w̠̺͉̣̘̤͡ͅ.̙̪̤̹̼̘̟.̙̗͍.̗̘̤͚̼͟ͅ ͕̣͇͈̗A̳c͈̲̗͜c̕i̝͉͈͓͇̜ͅde͘nt̷͉̬͖̩̠s̖̩̮ ͙̦̤͇h͏͕͍͍̙̖͉̻a̳͎͉̯̭͝ͅp̨͔͍̙̣̙pen͈̠̤?̠͕͓̭̳”    Gun shots rang, lighting up the alleyway in rapid fire, and against the far brick wall, Izuru could watch shadows like stop motion as what looked to be a thick electrical wire was rend from its foundations along the wall, and the evening filled with blue as the live wire was pressed into the officer's breast. Screams filled Izuru's ears, and zir teeth clenched to prevent zir own cries as zir legs shook and arms gripped tightly at zir book case.    It ended quickly, the lights seemed to flicker back on as if nothing had happened. Izuru rocked where ze were at, zir back sticking to some sort of unknown substance that had dripped down the side of the garbage bin who knows how long ago, and steps approached them, even and stead, and ze, against a wall and a hard place.    But it was the eyes that kept zem from running, despite that being the very thing that should have made zem flee. Bright yellow gleaming from black tar, the optics focusing rapidly like a camera lens on zir crouching form.    Static came from zir phone, and ze nearly choked as the voice from before spoke from the speakers, muffled by zir pocket.    “I̖̹͇͍͇̝͇z̻͚̼̺ṷͅr̢̝͇u͉͖̻̥̘̘ͅ ͔̻͖̣K̘̣̠̞̘͞i̢̤̞ṛ̕a̶ ”    A stark white hand extended to the young journalist, black nails shining against the purple neon flickering nearby.    “I̹͎̗ ̺a̷͔ḿ̩͚̭͔̱̦ ͏a̮̺̥̥̦̱͓͝ ̰̥̕f̪̖̗̠ͅa͚͜n̶̝̰̗ ̴͙̩ọ̵̜f̳͚̙͈͇̗ ͔̣̲͉̼̺́y҉̜o̶͚͙̥ṷ̼͘r͈͘ ̲a̼r̜t̰̼i̹̫c͕̻̪̳̭l͏͙̭es͙̞͔͍͉̥.”    A synth, a bio engineered android, or at least, a type of one. The being before him looked of flesh, where it was exposed outside of the nice, perfectly clean black suit they wore. But it was bleach white, unnatural to the human eye, as was the smile filled with jagged glass shards of teeth and bright blue gums. Long wavy hair cascaded down their back, looking more like a very fashionable business man than the murderer they just showed themselves to be. But those eyes, they glowed in the dim light and didn't straw away from zem for a moment, predatory, like a bird about to drop down upon prey.    It sent a chill down zir spine.    “W-who--”    They stooped to zir level on the filthy alley ground, a hand slowly coming up towards zem. For a terrifying moment, Izuru thought it was going to grip zir throat, however, it went to the fringe of zir bright blond hair. Fingers, almost to delicately pulled a bit of debris from it, before smoothing it back down. Breath escaped them, as if ze had been holding it in for hours.    Zir phone crackled to life again, even thought the being's mouth went from a grin to a closed mouth smile, a pale hand extended to zem.

   “Y̤̹̗̺͇̦͔o͍̹͈̫̞̩̳u̫͇̰ ̡̝ͅm͚͓a̙͎͓̜̯̮̟ý̥̻ ̖͔͖̼̣̼ͅc̬̥a̵̦̙̳͔̝ḽ̹l͓͉̬͔͓̫̬ ̱m͈̟̤̺̩ͅe ́P̵̲͙͈͍̝r̮̗͜í̪̤̫̩̠ͅn̴͔ç͓ip̶̹̠l̩ḛ͎̖̟͍͓͉.̻ ҉I͔̜͖̘ ̺͉̦͢h͏̱͉͎̫a͔̥̭̗̟͠v̧͕e̵͉͕͓͎̳̺ ̯̫̺ͅa͚͖̜͎̣͚ ͖̖p̸͎̫͉ͅr̰̭͓ͅo̤̳̞po̶̻̝̻̭s̶̹͕̬̬̥͉i̥̖͙t̹͡i̪̠͙o̤̙n̳̺̬̝̟̗̦ ̛̮f͙̹̪̩̲o̦̰̘͔̳ͅr͇͙͝ ̞̙͖̠͔̦y͙̣̫̯̕o̙͉̺̯̬̲̬u̢.̞.̧͙.̲̼̘̫͔̘̼”

Text from:    Momo Hinamori    Hey, did you make it home safe?    Be careful, they have been upping    the patrols along your route.

[killemwithkawaii]

Goretober 2021 Day 14: Ripple

Sal and I started our day as routinely as we had a dozen times before. We spent our morning snoozing together in bed, opting to stay under the covers and keep each other warm, not wanting to face the cold air that had seeped into the cabin overnight until a full bladder trumped the desire to stay cozy. I glanced into the tub during my morning trip to the bathroom. There were no forks, or needles, or blood, or anything else out of the ordinary.

We followed each other closely on our way to the kitchen. Sal checked the outlets, wires, and the insides of the appliances we would be using. After digging around in the grounds, I made my pot of coffee as usual. Sal microwaved the milk for his cocoa, looking closely at the liquid and powder as he poured them, sniffing at the drink a few times before taking a sip. It was past noon and we were already hungry, so we decided on pancakes for brunch.

The bag of pancake mix was thoroughly inspected and sifted twice. We both stood by the burner, taking turns flipping when the batter turned golden. He held me by the waist and said he was getting an intense bout of de ja vu-  this was like the second time we met, when that version of me had taught him everything he knew about cooking pancakes, and it was also like the sixth time we met, around this time last year, when he'd used those skills to made pancakes for this version of me on this very same stove.

By the time he was done reminiscing, we had a full plate waiting for us to gobble it up before it went cold. We took out the needed cutlery from the safe (all was still accounted for), and decided that we'd eat our brunch on the porch for a change. We grabbed a blanket and our food, put on our slippers, and stepped outside.

What we saw was not the typical morning view that Sal and I had enjoyed every day before this. There, spread across the narrow yard between the cabin steps and the steep drop off beyond, laid a pair of corpses:

A wolf and a rabbit, their intestines entangled in a heart-shaped twist, lying so that their blood-coated snouts and front paws touched in a way one could almost describe as 'tender,’ had it not been so macabre.

We both stood speechless on the cabin steps, unable to come up with a logical scenario that would lead to us discovering such a sight. I had been so thankful this morning for how quiet the woods had been the night before. I never stopped to question why, exactly, it had been so quiet.

I turned to Sal, hoping he knew something I didn’t. He kept his eyes locked ahead as he slowly and heavily stepped down the stairs, placing his mug and plate on the wood with shaking hands. He stood up close, staring at the scene in silence. I could hear his breathing getting heavier. His head started swiveling, darting back and forth, toward the bodies, around the yard, to the woods, to me, to the cabin, to the woods, then back to the bodies again. 

I heard him whisper something to himself as he started raking his fingers through his hair. He gripped it at the root and stood very still for several moments.

Then, he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the limp carrion by the scruffs and hastily dragging them across the grass and dried wild flowers before hurling them over the edge with a frustrated howl. His shoulders were heaving, breathing ragged from the sudden effort and heightened foreboding. He turned on his heel and hurried toward me, passing by his dishes on the step and pushing me backward through the door.

"Get in the cabin."

"What-"

"Get in the cabin, now."

With the 'click' of the lock behind him, I felt my own bout of de ja vu start.

We've been inside since. The sun is down, and the woods are quiet, but tonight, I don’t think either of us will sleep soundly. We won’t be able to help but lie awake, and wonder why.

[theashofwkm]

A Siren’s Call (Part One)

Summary: In which the surface is off limits, but her voice is so addicting he just can’t help himself. little mermaid!au, sorta

Prompt: Goretober, Underwater

Warnings: blood mention, death mention, reliving tragic memory, law breaking, sneaking out. Despite warnings, all of these are vague and I don’t think this qualifies as actual angst.

Note: day six! sorry again for the lack of read more! tumblr sucks. also why are titles so hard?

———

Bubbles drift upwards lazily, floating to the surface. Skimming around smooth-scaled, smooth-skinned creatures that swim through the currents. Gurgling from the deepest depths up to crashing waves and free air.

The city of the mer is stunning. Gleaming and glittering from reflections of far-off sunlight. Abuzz with life and teeming with happiness, with joy and peace, except for one.

There’s a prince, handsome and beloved by all creatures of the sea. Set to inherit the throne, to inherit his father’s trident and the swell of power that comes with it, to become king. He is the most beloved creature, most beloved mer in all of the sea.

He does not wish to be king. Having little interest for the throne, for the trident, for the power the title holds and the rules he’ll be bound to. Being king is an honor, but it also a duty and a burden and all he’s ever craved is freedom. The binds of prince are loose, but they’re still far too tight. The ones of king are even tighter. He has no interest to be bound to the ocean, or anything else.

The prince is a creature of the ocean, born and bound to its waters, from the sea foam on the surface, to the deepest chasms unexplored.

It’s improper that he holds love for the land.

It’s a secret, of course. Something he keeps even from those he trusts. Secrets have a way of coming to light and while an ally could help, they could also hinder.

Land is forbidden, the surface ordered off limits years ago, for good reason. Humans had learned about them, had slaughtered who they could, the numbers staggering.

The Queen had died in the chaos, protecting her only son. It’s wrong for him to hold such fascination with what killed her. He knows humans are cruel, remembers the wash of his mother’s blood clogging the water around him, remembers the warmth of it. He remembers her death, knows that humans have no mercy, but his fascination holds.

Guilt is what’s really keeping his secret.

Rumors would spread through the castle if they knew the truth. He’d be a king without care for his people. An untruth, but that is what they would see him as. For a ruler, royalty, the people’s perception is everything.

He cannot go to the surface often. Princely duties keep him chained to the sea’s floor, eyes watching him in fascination and reverence, a barrier to the world above. Oftentimes, he lays on the floor, looks up and pretends that he’s looking at the sun, feeling the wind and the air.

There’s fond memories of the surface, behind the guilt. It used to be a place they visited, where they laughed and sang and played music.

Music that was illegal now.

The Queen, his mother, had been so gifted in that department. Her voice had soothed even the grumpiest of listeners. It never failed to send him to sleep as a merling. It was a blessing, until they lost it. Then all music was banned, for the reminders it brought of the kind Queen they had, the Queen they lost.

William hardly remembers her voice. The memory of her scream and her blood is far more vivid. In banning music, the king had taken away any good William had in his childhood, leaving him desperate for something he should hate.

They’d left his mother at the surface. His memory of her is clearer there and maybe that’s why he’s so fascinated with it. Her ghost lives where sky meets ocean, leaving her dead to the place she’d called home. Nothing but a ghost the people were forbidden to acknowledge.

He thinks his father is going about mourning her wrong. He can hardly remember music, what it sounded like, how it made him happy. The only place he can really remember her is the surface, where he simultaneously feels free and like he’s drowning.

There’s a human castle, not far from the home of the merpeople. It’s far less impressive, of course, made of tall, weathered stone and not glimmering gold. There’s a certain charm to it nonetheless. He watches it on his short stints to the surface.

One day, a beautiful melody is heard as he breaks the surface gasping. He can feel the cold spear that drove through his mother, the warmth of her blood as it spilled out into the water. Every time he breaks the surface of the waves, he feels her die all over again.

This time, though, there’s a lovely sound greeting him. Shamefully, it takes him a few moments to realize that it’s singing. It’s been so long since he’s heard it, and his memory of it is weak, quiet.

Turning his gaze to the castle, he sees a girl, standing on a balcony and quietly singing to the amphitheater of the ocean, where nothing visible listens. Waves crash and slosh against the shores, the only music accompanying her voice, the crow of seagulls her background vocals. It all echoes over the gentle rolls of the water.

She’s pretty, the girl. Her hair reminds him of the deep chasms that stretch down into the earth, the ones with no bottoms, so deep that no one dares to explore it. Her dress is also dark, a contrast to her pale skin. He’s bewitched, flicking his tail to drift closer to the girl and the castle full of humans.

Humans he should detest but doesn’t. Oh, he’s tried, but he’s never succeeded. Now, listening to the calm voice of this one, he doesn’t think he ever will.

Nostalgia cinches around his chest, a faded memory of his mother coming to mind, her fingers dragging though his hair as she sings him to sleep. A feeling —safety, comfort — settles over his heart. He can’t remember the last time he felt sated, at peace.

It’s the orange tint of the sun that brings him back to himself, sun lurking low over the horizon, William has to his eyes off her form. Her melancholic song comes to an end with one last drifting hum.

His gaze lingers for a moment, etching her sad beauty into his mind before he turns and disappears under the waves. In a current, heading home, his mind whispers her song to him, hoping to keep the peace it had made him feel while he dives into the chilly waters of home.

Half a moon phase passes before he has to come up for air again. For a glimpse of the girl he shouldn’t be thinking about. She’s there, thankfully, on the same balcony, with a man. The moon leers over them, the vice around his heart loosening a little as he recognizes her, the panic of his mother’s memory duller then it usually is.

Black sky stretched above them, speckled in white, her laughter sounds, light and pleasant, barely audible over rough waves. A storm is coming, clouds inching their way closer from the far off horizon, invisible under the dark sky.

The man is dark haired, like her. He laughs too, in a deeper tone, exchanging unintelligible words with her. They seem comfortable together, the girl happy, and the sight brings a smile to William’s face.

He shouldn’t be smiling because of a human. Yet, with her laugh turning her face to the sky, showcasing her joy, he smiles anyway. They leave after only a few short moments, but William remains, turning his eyes to the night sky.

It’s amazing that it can look so different without the sun. He arches his tail up, ogling the way the soft light bounces off the scales. Water drips from his fin, and he reluctantly lowers it back to the water, casting one last look at the castle as he dives under and returns to his home.

Sneaking into his bedroom, he wonders who the man was, who the girl is. He’s infatuated with her, her voice an addiction he can’t escape.

He’s in trouble.

Only a couple days pass before he has to see her again, far too soon after his last visit, but her memory begs for his return. Breaking the surface is relieving, the memory of his mother distant as he spots the girl again.

The girl is there, on the beach, so close that he has to shirk behind a rock to avoid catching her attention.

Sand sinks beneath her slow, loping strides. Waves roll out to kiss the soles of her feet before receding just to do it again. He notes that her eyes are as dark as her hair, her dress still dark, but scattered with white stars, more casual then last dress she’d been in. She drifts aimlessly, sand squishing beneath her toes and the hem dragging beneath her heels.

She begins to sing. It’s enchanting, to hear it when she’s so close. She’s doing so absentmindedly, a sound between humming and singing, but it’s still beautiful, to the boy who hasn’t heard it in over a decade before he heard her. He peers around the rock to get a better look.

Towards the end of the small stretch of beach, there’s a log. Driftwood that had come ashore during a storm, most likely. She takes a seat, leaning her elbows onto her knees as she stares at the horizon.

William inches around the rock a little more. His tail makes a splash behind him as he does so, excitement making holding it still difficult.

She stops singing, gaze swinging over to William, who’s wide-eyed but otherwise hidden. She stands, eyes pinned to him as she says a soft “hello?”

William ducks behind the rock, but stays above water.

“Who are you?” Her voice is placating, soothing. He doesn’t want to leave, wants to hear it some more, but she’s not supposed to see him. Humans aren’t allowed to see them.

Swallowing deeply, he peers his head around the rock, hyper aware of his tail and that it stays hidden. He looks human, for the most part, above the waist. As long as that’s all she sees, she shouldn’t learn what he is.

“Hi,” he whispers, flopping a hand in a sad attempt for a wave. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s alright. Were you listening to me sing?”

Red-cheeked, he nods. “Your voice is pretty.” His fingers dig into the rough stone shielding him. He’s not supposed to be here, talking with a human. He was breaking all kinds of laws, coming up here.

“Thank you.” She laughs a little. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, though. My name is Celine.”

Blinking, William replies, against his better judgement. “I’m William.”

“Hi William.”

“Hi.”

They idle in silence for some time, simply staring at one another, awkwardness thick in the air. She clears her throat. “So,” she says, “what are you doing here?”

“Uhh. I just came to see the castle.” A half-truth. He’d came to see one who lived in it as well.

Something about his words twist her smile in an unhappy way. “Ah, you came to see the Queen-to-be in person, huh?”

“Queen to be?” He tilts his head.

She nods, her posture stiffer and her back now straight. “Yes. I’m the princess. My coronation is upcoming.”

Something in his heart aches, empathetic. He examines her posture, her bitter tone. “You don’t want to be Queen?”

“Not really.” She shakes her head, sighing as she sits again. “It just seems like a lot of unnecessary circumstance and grandeur. A lot of rules to follow.”

He hoists himself up, half dangling off the rock, half leaning against it so he can be better seen. “And it just seems like a waste of resources, doesn’t it?” They’re busy planning a big, proper celebration? Won’t let you have two seconds to yourself without a guard at your side?”

“Yes!” She nods enthusiastically, groaning. “You have no idea how exhausting it is.”

Laughing a little, he shakes his head. “I have some idea, trust me.” He remembers the wall of guards he had to sneak by, the bribe he paid to the gatesman, his father’s voice echoing through the halls. Water laps against the shore, against his back. “It’s nice to just get away for a bit, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Not that I don’t love it, it’s just— it just gets a little stifling at times.”

“Yeah.” He smiles ruefully, sadly. He knows all too well.

Smoothing her skirts, she looks up at him. “Why don’t you come out of the water? I’m sure it’s cold.”

His fin twitches, fingers clenching. “I’m fine here.”

“Alright,” she shrugs, eyes sliding away from him. “Tell me something,” she says suddenly, head rocked back and facing the sky.

“Like what?”

She smiles. “Anything.”

Hours pass, sun dragging across the sky. Pinkened sky, blazing sun, they become something very close to friends. Forging a bond with a stranger, someone that both know they shouldn’t, but that they do anyways.

She doesn’t want to be Queen. She’s being pushed to take her throne and a husband, except there’s no man she’s held any interest in.

“This is probably the best time I’ve had in a while,” she says, mulling over her thoughts audibly and breaking the comfortable bubble of silence. “It’s too bad you’re not one of my suitors, you’re easily the best of them.”

William’s breath catches. He flounders for a response, his mind blank.

“Princess!” A far off cry sounds, her name in a deep tone. She slumps, putting her face in her hands.

William glances down the beach, lowering himself into the water nervously. Instinct screams at him to dive, to swim out of sight.

“Duty calls,” she says, standing to brush sand off her dress. She turns to the voice, but stops herself from taking a step. She looks at William, the strange boy in the water. “Will I see you again?”

He hesitates. He should say no, leave now that he’s seen her up close, held a conversation with her. This is too close, too far past the line, law shattered behind him. “Same time tomorrow?”

Celine nods. “If I can get away.”

Sand flies under the heels of the guard, who sighs once he spots Celine. “Princess,” he says, “you’re needed back at the castle.”

Her gaze turns to sea, barren and empty. She follows the guard back to the castle, to civilization hungry for a glimpse of their future ruler at an overly fancy dinner.

William’s head peeps up over the water as he watches her walk away, guard at her side. His mind turns, heart reaching out to her, her struggles that he understands. He wants to come back, to get closer to her. Her last words play in his mind.

It’s too bad you’re not one of my suitors.

An idea flashes across his mind. He bites his lip, draws blood. Eyes darting between the castle he’s been admiring for months and the water beneath him. He makes his decision.

Diving under the water, he swishes his tail powerfully, rocketing himself downwards, into cool depths and past his own castle. The light shimmer of his home fades as he enters the one place more forbidden then the sea’s cover.

He enters the kraken’s lair.

———

Masterlist

Ooh, a cliffhanger. What will happen next, I wonder? Y’all will just have to wait. Let me know if you liked this, though!!

TAGGING: @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @electricprincess888 @berrie-b @mackenziplier @gerardwayslips @risiskifi @cawestad @theinvisiblespoon @californiakxng @just-another-starfish @superawesomeamazingname @moonstonefox12 @bones-and-tomes @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @itsbumblebunnybee @noisyfreakpersonlover @nightmarejim @schuyleryette @withjust-a-bite @statictay @muraae (tags are open and I think I’m right in not tagging the WKM list because this isn’t explicitly WKM?? Idk.)