#it was nice for decor how they hanged the bodies well done dear villain

[gisatako]

s5ep15, what are they using mr.Bates and company for??? Sucking their life energy? weaponize them like the meta kids in black lighting!? Bet Andrea doesn't know

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Kill Me Hardly (Ch. 2)

Notes: Warnings are in the first chapter. It’s a dark fic, please heed the tags, and proceed with caution that this is a triggering fic.

Thank You, @youtubequeens for brainstorming with me! <3 

“It’s always been you.” Cold. His voice was so cold and empty, just as his pupils were, as he regarded you with a stone faced expression. This was a dream, you thought with dread. Please go back to happy thoughts. Anything! You were tired of reliving this nightmare.  

“There are no happy thoughts.” He said, as if reading your mind. No, no, no!

Sharp. Pain. Shock. It’s the only things that you could process as you let out a scream, alarming your sleeping parents who were sleeping in the next room. You held tightly onto your throat, blood seeping quickly onto the floor as you could only think about the fast pacing question of why, and if you were going to die like this, cold and empty on your bedroom floor.

“Hey!” The familiarity of the voice hit you. Wha-?  This voice didn’t belong here. Your vision faded to black as your bedroom, your brother’s fleeing figure, and the blurry images of your parents rushing towards you, had disappeared.

“Wake the fuck up!” Your eyes snapped open at the command. Blurry. Your vision was blurry as you tried to regain your focus. Your hands, although ethereal, could touch your own face as you felt the cold wetness littering your cheeks.

Blonde? You focused on the soft tufts, then realization washed over you. Taishiro was leaning over you, a look of concern and his usual annoyance was evident in his expression. It was the first time you’ve seen him without his villain getup, and at first, you secretly admitted to yourself, it was as if you were staring at the face of an angel. He was instead wearing a nightgown, of all things, and you kept your not-so-innocent thoughts to yourself as you avoided looking at well toned muscles and fat.  

“Hi.” You murmured instead, and he leaned back, and sighed.

“Holy shit, do ya have issues.” A rude, violent criminal of an angel who sort of wanted to kill you. You didn’t know, anymore. Nor, did you care. You sat up, surprised that you didn’t faze through the couch as he lit up another cigarette, staring at you.

“Those are bad for you.” You opted, rubbing the access tears away from your eyes.

“Shut up. Still not over bein’ pissed at ya. Damned stalker ghost.” He huffed out a puff of smoke with mock anger, seemingly calmer than last night. Sunlight filtered through the beams, the smoke dancing within it. You vaguely remembered your father calling it “Angel’s Hellfire” as he puffed out the disgusting smell into the innocent-looking beam of sunlight.

“You said you could use my help.” You broke the silence, instead. He hummed.

“What could go wrong with usin’ a pair of eyes from a body that can’t be seen? Not today, though. Meet here, tonight.”

“I don’t have anything else to do, though.” You pouted. His eye twitched.

“Fuckin’ find somethin’ to do, then!”

“No. I tried everything. Plus, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I think I can just hang around and stare at you, today.” You grinned sharply at his sudden wide-eyed expression, a small tinge of pink dusted his ears.

“Go peek on some porn industry, you fuckin’ pervert! I got shit to do that doesn’t involve ya! Bad enough ya know my identity!” He growled out, and you couldn’t help but eat it up. Who knew that a well-known villain would act this way? He wasn’t use to the attention, was your guess, but it didn’t matter.

“Nope~! You can’t get rid of me, Tai, so you might as well give up.” You shrugged, receiving a dark and murderous look.

“Yer over-steppin’ yer boundaries.”

“Says the villain who beats people bloody and steals their wallets. Who am I going to tell? The Ghostbusters?” You grinned, and he couldn’t help but snort out a huff of laughter.

“Touche. Fine. Can’t get rid of yer ass, anyway.” He grumbled out. You smiled in victory.

“Unless you get a priest.” You offered, and his eyes sparkled at the idea. Oh, this should be fun.

“Yeah. Maybe he can bless yer ass, an’ finally send you up to heaven or whatever. Don’t hafta deal with my secrets getting’ out.” He smiled at the prospect, and you frowned.

“Or I could wake up and tell everybody.”

He looked at you, unimpressed.

“Tch. Cheeky brat. Even if ya said anythin’, who’s gonna believe a comatose nut who just woke up, hm?”  

“Touche.” You repeated his words, and he sighed.

“Let’s get today over with.” He grumbled, stripping off his gown. You adverted your eyes, staring at the area around you for once since you’ve entered, and were in shock. Multiple unlit candles cluttered the shelves and desk, each one was either limited edition or a unique one you’ve never seen before. It didn’t stop there, no. He had wax warmers, one in the kitchen, and one in the living room, you counted at least fifteen different wax melt scents laying about.

“Thought you’d said that you’d stare at me.” He bit, breaking out of your rambling thoughts as he noticed you looking around.

“Only if you wanted me to. Consent’s important, Tai-chan. Besides, your place is nicer than what I’ve expected.” You hummed, looking at the three different laundry soaps within the kitchen.

“I’m a thief, not dirty. ‘Sides, that’s rich comin’ from a stalker ghost.” He quipped.

“Maybe Kami or whatever deity’ll forgive me. Although, I rather they beg for my forgiveness.”

“You an’ me both. C’mon, let’s get this shit over with.” He hummed as he opened the door, locking it behind him as he shut it. You followed him, floating through as you noticed his wear. It was different, far from villainous. Orange, white, and red decorated his form in the shape of a hoodie, while he sported lighter colored jeans and dark orange sneakers. He looked rather normal, not somebody who would punch somebody in the throat.

The first stop was a love hotel.

“Shut up.” He growled at your raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t say anything.” You replied.

“You’re gonna.” He quipped.

“Well, yeah. A love hotel, Tai-chan? Should I leave you to your privacy?” You wiggled your eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s only fer business. I get my kicks above the waistline, Sunshine.” He huffed, ignoring curious stares as he followed onward, letting the clerk check him in. The two of you stayed in the lobby in what had seemed minutes, him barely giving you his attention as you stared at everything, taking in the faces of people you barely even recognize.

“Ah, Toyomitsu.” A chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a strange man came out of nowhere to greet him without an honorific. Scars. Burn scars littered skin that wasn’t covered by a ragged t-shirt. You didn’t want to be rude and stare, but then you remembered that only Taishiro could see you. Toyomitsu? The name rang nicely within your head.  

“Yo, Dabi. This is fer the girls. Kai-san was a lil’ harder to deal with, but he parted with it rather graciously.” A dark grin sported on Taishiro’s face as he handed the money to “Dabi”. Said man smiled slowly, eyes crinkling with a pleased look.

“You never fail to deliver, do you? Anyway, this is more than enough to feed Ai-chan’s brat. I’ll let the boss know that you’ve done well. Good day, Toyomitsu.” He bowed.

“Likewise, Scarecrow.” Taishiro grinned out the nickname, repaying the pleasantries as he copied the bow, much to your surprise. After the man left, you turned your attention to the now scowling man.

“What…?” You offered, but he paid you no heed as he exited the lobby of the hotel, you following after.

“-the hell was that about?” You asked him when the both of you were outside.

“He has a clutch of girls who work fer him. Y’know, prostitution? The man an’ his boss’re hirin’ me to deliver money an’ goods to the girls, so they can continue workin’ in fine, safe conditions. I give’em half the cut I steal, an’ they keep the cops n’ shit at bay.” He offered, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“So...you’re not just a thief, but you’re a gentleman thief?” You asked, and he scoffed.

“Yeah, I guess ya can say that.” He bit his bottom lip in what seemed to be embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing, oddly enough.

“How endearing.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped.

“No, but seriously! You could, I don’t know, support drug addicts, or violent gangs who kill people, but you’re not.” You hummed, and much to your surprise, he turned to look at you.

“Who says I don’t? Stop it with your optimistic bullshit. I’m a villain. I don’t really care ‘bout others.” He said with a cold conviction, you stilled at the familiar lack of warmth in his irises as he bared his teeth at you.

 There was a lie within his statement, but you didn’t dare comment on it, for you both knew it.  

“You’ve got issues.” You repeated his words from earlier, and he just turned around, ignoring you as you followed him.

“I know everybody’s got their problems, but taking it out on people isn’t healthy. Neither is smoking. Nor beating the devil out of innocent police officers.” You rambled, counting your fingers as he sighed with pure frustration.

“When I find yer fuckin’ body, I’m going to strangle you.” He growled out.

“That’s nice and all, Tai-chan, but there’s an old granny standing behind you.” You pointed, not really caring.

He whirled around, and sure enough, there was an old lady fixing her spectacles as she looked up at him.

“You’re going to bangle me?” She put a hand to her ear, and you could hear a sigh of relief.

“No, no, Miss! I was talkin’ to myself! Gotta bang those bangles….uh, fer the band!” He gave out a sweet false smile. No way in hell was that going to-

“Ah! You’re in the band! Good luck, Dear!” She gushed, pinching his cheek, hobbling away on her cane.

He turned towards you.

“I’m gonna find a fuckin’ priest.”

“Please do.”

……..

It didn’t take too long to find one. Although he didn’t seem one for Buddhism, he knew where to find a temple, oddly enough.

“What can I do for you?” The monk asked politely.

“I need a ward against an evil spirit.” He bit out.

“Don’t forget to confess to your sins.” You added.

“A really, evil, dangerous spirit who’s been talkin’ shit an’ stalkin’ me.” He grounded, and the monk, ignoring such language, nodded.

He handed Taishiro some white pieces of paper with kanji written on them.

“These should do. May you find peace against this evil.” He bowed, Taishiro thanked him, grinning as you huffed out a laugh as the two of you walked away from the temple.

“Lemme see if this fuckin’ works.” He didn’t give you any warnings as he placed a ward to your forehead.

Nothing happened. He then sneered as you began laughing at his attempts to wave the paper through your form in anger.

“This is asshattery!” His eyebrows furrowed into exasperation. You tried to touch the sigil, but no avail.

“I guess it’s for evil spirits, not ghosts in limbo.” You shrugged.

“Kami! Damn it! Ugh.” He palmed his face, looking at you with an exasperated look through his fingers. You beamed.  

“Let’s go to the next place, then.” He gave in, and you smiled behind him, floating along to wherever else.

……….

“This should do it.” He handed the money to the administrator. Said man’s eyes widened at the amount as he bowed deeply, head resting on the floor with the utmost respect. The day crawled over slowly, and you began to notice that the villain was not who he all seemed to be.

“T-Thank you!” The man sobbed, and Taishiro scratched his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll be here, next week. Take care, I guess.” He murmured. You were oddly quiet, observing his behavior and the places where he went to. Many surprised you, such as this one. He didn’t really care to look at the children, but his demeanor softened as he handed the main man in charge of the orphanage, money.

He confused you, that was for certain.

“You’re like a jaw-breaker.” You broke the silence as the sun was setting.

“Hah?” He turned to look at you, takoyaki sauce was scattered on his upper cheek. How cute, you thought, but then explained.

“Although you have a hard shell, you’re pretty sweet in all through the layers. Yet one wrong move, the candy can be lodged into somebody’s throat, choking them.”

He eyed you thoughtfully, chewing on the last bit of his supper.

“Yer really fuckin’ weirdly observant.”

“Thanks. Been dead for about a year.”

He hummed.

“A year, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Complete solitude and isolation?” He prodded.

“Well...there are other spirits, but they can’t talk. You don’t want to see them, for obvious reasons.” You pointed to your wound. His expression softened slightly, but you noticed it.

“Must’ve sucked. Seein’ others how they died n’ shit.” He said more to himself than to you as he looked down with an odd look to his face. Regret? Sorrow? You didn’t understand.

“You obviously put up a front, even sometimes your feelings are obvious, you deny them. Is it a pride thing?” You found yourself asking.

“Why is it of any of yer concern? Until you shoved yer nosy self in my home, nobody knew my identity, my business, or anything else!” He growled out. Use to his behavior you shrugged.

“Think of me as a diary that can’t ever be read. A secret keeper. Something to vent to. If by that twenty percent chance that I wake up, and if you feel threatened, you are more then welcomed to show up at my door. Not holding onto much hope of me staying alive, anyway.” You offered, and in return, you received one of those looks from him. The one that was calculating as he deciphered you thoroughly. He stared you down, taking in your lax expression with furrowed eyebrows.

“Twenty percent?”

“It’s what I overheard the doctor say. I haven’t really went back, y’know.” It was your turn to look serious as the images of your parents and other relatives had their own stricken faces of grief. A silence over took the two of you as he entered his house, locking the door as you fazed through it. He took out a lighter, opening a new pack of cigarettes thoughtfully.

“I am gonna kill you.” He said halfheartedly.

“I know.” You bluffed.

“Do you even fuckin’ care about yerself?” He stared at you.

“I did, once. You’ll only be granting me mercy, now.” You floated neatly on the kitchen chair that was behind the dining table, with him on the other side as he flicked the lighter, letting it burn at the end of the pack of full flavor smokes. He sucked on the stick, the embers at the end brightened as he inhaled the smoke, staring at you with a thoughtful expression as he exhaled it away from your form.

“Yer stuck with me, huh?”

“Till death do I part.” You quipped, but neither of you laughed. Silence followed after that.

“I made a promise that I would never kill again. Not what after happened to that fuckin’ kid.” He started. You said nothing as you listened in.

“I didn’t care what the people who I ran with, did. Murder wasn’t really my thing, but stealin’, violence, an’ destruction was. Was a brat straight from high school, ya know? Angry, hurt, an’ violent.”

“That’s not easy on anybody, especially one so young.” You murmured gently. He glanced at your more softer expression, drinking it in as he put the butt out. To your own surprise, he had decided to continue.

“Ma passed away, leaving a dead-beat ass dad. To this day, I still haven’t really talked to him. Fucker wanted me to start stealin’ to support his habits, an’ the older, violent kids got word that I was a prodigy. Ya can see where this is goin’, can’t ya?” He prompted, and you nodded. For the longest time, Fatgum, the notorious villain, was known to be within a gang of very violent and very deadly people. It was obvious that the large man didn’t really care for the murdering, but he wasn’t fully against it, either.  

“They disappeared.” You said, referring to the gang. He grimaced.

“Without a trace, huh? C’mon. I’m gonna take a nap, and then we’re gonna bust a few joints. Ya in?” He asked. Of course you weren’t going to pass that up. It was wrong, and villainous, but you remembered the smiling faces of the children at the orphanage.

“Yeah. I’m in.”

For the first time, you’ve met him, he let out a genuine smile, and your metaphorical breath was caught in your throat. No. You patronized your thoughts. You weren’t allowed to think of such things.

“Sour Patch Kids.” His voice broke through your inner dread. You stared up at him with confusion. He grinned, taking in your baffled look.

“First they’re sour, and then they’re sweet n’ chewy. Stubborn lil’ bastards get stuck between yer teeth, and ya can’t get rid of ‘em. That’s what you remind me of.”

You grinned.

 Maybe fate wasn’t so cruel to you, after all.

……………

Notes: I had to add candy metaphors I’m sorry. Less angsty than what I was planning, lol.          

[zacknano17]

Day 11 : words 20,025 - 22,086

In which, Taako has an out of body experience.

Rebekah reaches over and touches a strand of Taako's hair, even as he draws back as far away from her as he possibly can.

“Taako, dear, you are the research,” she says.  “When it comes to go time, I only get one chance.  So I need to practice first.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he puts in nervously.  “Wait.  At least tell me what you're going to do?”

“Well, that would sort of ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?”

“Okay, but like I pointed out, I am a pretty dope wizard.  And I'd really like for whatever you do to me to, uh, not kill me?  So lay it on me, brocephus.  I'll do whatever I can to help.  I've got not reason to lie to you.”

It is an honest offer, because he really doesn't want to die, but he is also hoping for that good old villain monologue to buy a little time. At some point, Magnus and Merle might notice he is gone and not coming back, and while he doesn't count on that happening anytime soon, a guy can hope, right?

“I suppose you don't,” Rebekah finally says, rubbing the side of her face.  She looks a little...forlorn, he thinks.  Maybe even a bit scared.

“Illusion magic is...just that, an illusion,” she says.  “You can create just about anything you can imagine, with enough practice, but it'll never be anything more than a fake.  And this monocle claims that it can make these things real.  It does, for the most part.  You saw the flowers I made you.  They were real.  But...you can't create everything with an illusion.  Sometimes, you can only create the pieces, and not all of the pieces.

“Taako, I want to show you my greatest creation.  You're a wizard, and you'll appreciate how much work I put into this.”  She takes a step back and glances off to the side, were Taako can't follow her line of vision.  “Alfonso, could you come over here, please?”

The dark haired elf man Taako had seen in the lobby earlier walks into the room and goes to stand next to Rebekah.  There's something off about him, something that Taako hadn't noticed when he had see Alfonso upstairs.  Something in his expression, or...the lack of one. That's it.  His face is bland, lacking in any spark of life.  He looks almost...bored.

It clicks, after a moment.

“Wait, this -- you made a guy?  What the fuck?  You can't just make an illusion of a guy and then make him real!”

“It's not just any guy, Taako,” she says, gently taking Alfonso's hand. “And it isn't just as easy as that.  I had to study for months to understand all the intricacies of elven anatomy, and I had to study photographs and...remember.  I tried so many times, but there was always something wrong with the illusion.  Until finally...finally, I got it perfect.  And the monocle made him real.”

This Alfonso had been a real person once, in other words.  Taako feels a little sick.

“Who was he?” he asks.

Rebekah smiles, her expression rueful in a familiar sort of way.  “He's my husband,” she says.

She takes her wand and conjures up an image in the air, looking much like the portraits hanging all around the house.  This one is a little different, though.  It shows Rebekah and Alfonso holding hands and smiling at each other.  Rebekah is in a simple but lovely gown and Alfonso in a suit that seems a little worn but looks terrific on him. The image moves, showing the area of the wedding.  It's a modest affair, set in a lovely park.  The flowers are sparse, but placed so well that it didn't matter.

Rebekah's expertise with the decorations is evident, even if it isn't as extravagant as the weddings that she does now.  It's easy to see that she is truly good at her job, not just good at faking it with the help of a Grand Relic.

“What happened to him?” Taako asks, because you don't just fucking make a guy if the original guy is still around.

“He died.  About a year ago.  There was an accident...”  She stops herself, waving a hand dismissively.  “It doesn't really matter, does it?”

He supposes it really doesn't.

“Anyway, you might have realized it already, but Alfonso here...isn't right. I made a mistake,” she continues.  Alfonso continues to not react. “You see, you can make a perfect body with illusion magic, but a body isn't a person, it's just...a container for someone's spirit. This isn't Alfonso, this is just...a doll.  He moves and acts like a person when he is told to, but there isn't any of what truly made him Alfonso in there.”  She gives Alfonso another rueful smile and pats his hand gently.  “Don't worry, my love.  We're going to take care of it soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Alfonso says.

That is odd.  Taako is pretty sure this guy had an accent the last time he heard him speak.

“There's no illusion magic that you can use to make a soul, Reebo,” he says.

“I know,” she says.  “And anything I made would be imperfect at best anyway.  You can't truly know another person's soul, through and through, after all.”

“Please, please, please tell me you're not going after the real thing? Please?  I cannot fucking deal with this again, my dude.  It's like the shittiest idea anyone ever had and you fuckers keep doing it,” he groans.

She actually looks surprised for a moment.  “What?”

“Look, lady, you're not the first person who had someone they loved die, and you're certainly not going to be the first person to fuck with necromancy to try and fix that.  You're not even the only person I met in like the last couple of months.  Fuck, can't you assholes just leave well enough alone!?”

“I knew you wouldn't understand,” she says, turning away slightly.

“I understand just fine.  It's you who doesn't get it.  There are rules about this sort of shit for a reason.  What do you plan on doing when the fuckin' Grim Reaper shows up for your bounty, huh?  The Raven Queen keeps track of this shit, you know.”

“As long as I have this,” and she taps the monocle, “I don't fear the Reaper.”

Taako groans.  Looks like they were going to be dealing with another bounty hunter for the Raven Queen soon.  He hopes it's Kravitz again, so they don't have to worry about the whole “you've died eight times” bullshit all over again.  Also, because Kravitz is real nice on the eyes.

It occurs to him that he still doesn't know why he's here.

“Okay, sure, that's your ass on the line, not mine,” he scoffs.  “So what do you need me for?”

“You're the test run,” she says.  “I needed someone with magic, although I admit a sorcerer would have been better.  And I wanted a vessel where he would feel comfortable for the duration.  You have noticed he looks rather similar to you, haven't you?”

“...is that why you told me to go back to my natural color?”

“Hm. Well, yes.  But it really does suit you.  Anyway, I should get back to work -- ”

“Wait, hold on.  You said -- you -- you're gonna use my body for what now?”

“An experiment, basically.  I have to make sure this is safe before I try it on Alfonso.  Don't worry, I've done a lot of research, and you'll probably be fine.”

“Probably? Fuck that.  Fuck you.”

“Right. Well, I think I've gotten enough information to go on now.  Thank you for that nice conversation,” she says, ignoring Taako's struggling.  “Very informative.  I think I'm ready to begin now. Oh, and Taako?  If this doesn't work out, I really am sorry.”

The Oculus glows, and Taako feels the world collapse around him.  He feels himself folded down and in, down and in, until he is very small.  And then he no longer has a body.

The infraction in Waterdeep is really something of a minor one, but Kravitz' last job ended with him losing every single one of the bounties he had been after.  For some, it was excusable.  The three strangers with the absurdly high death counts could be pardoned for the time being, even just on a technicality.  But really, he should have at least taken in Lucas Miller, and losing his wager for Noelle Redcheek's soul, even just for a short time, had been rather embarrassing.

At any rate, the Raven Queen is not exceptionally pleased with his performance as of late, and so he has been put on the much dreaded tracking duties.  A number of dangerous necromantic artifacts are constantly being created and circulated throughout the Prime Material plane.  Tracking them down and disposing them is considered a low priority for the servants of the Raven Queen, as liches and evil necromancers cause far more damage than some idiot level 2 wizard trying to read a Necronomicon.

And Kravitz is reasonably certain that, if a lich is discovered in his general vicinity, he will be called on that job.  It's just that there hasn't been one.  And so he's tracking down the sale of a very illegal necromancy grimoire to a benign business in Waterdeep.  It's boring, and also, he can't find it.

There is something odd going on in this business, though.  He can tell that much after a brief reconnaissance mission.  The magic being used here is abnormal and far too powerful for the little halfling wizard who runs the place.  He has taken the opportunity to take the appearance of the employee he sees the least.  Even if his information had been wrong and the grimoire in question is not here at all, it's probably worth a look.

He thinks, just for a little while, that he might be barking up the wrong tree, until he watches Taako “I'm going to tentacle your dick” the Wizard waltz in through the front door and mention an appointment.

He can safely assume, then, that something is up.

He has since done some reading up on what it is that the Bureau of Balance is.  If one of these Grand Relics is being used in Wedding Wonders, then that does explain the strange feel of the magic being used here.  The house doesn't reek of necromancy, so at very least, it isn't the Relic associated with that.

The Relics are as dangerous as rumors say they are, and he is willing to give the agents of the Bureau of Balance some leeway, even if they are working in the same area.  With any luck, the three of them will clean up the place, and Kravitz will be able to take the tome out of the inevitable wreckage and be on his merry way.

It probably won't be that easy.  And if he's being honest with himself, his disguise, while clever, has a good deal of potential for going wrong.  The large orcish man had caught him red handed going through the front desk.  Taako's ruse of pretending (?) he was getting married seems uncomfortable, but it had certainly gotten him in the door without much issue.

He retreats upstairs for the duration, easily picking the lock with his magic.  The basement is the most likely place to look, usually, but that's where the man he stole his appearance from resides most of the time.  The attic seems empty and used mostly for storage.

When he finally comes back down the stairs onto the main level, he hears voices from the lobby.  Aha.  There are the other two -- Magnus and Merle, if memory serves.  Here, he might want to step with care. Merle lost an arm because of him, after all.

Still in disguise, he ghosts the area, not wanting to get too close and give himself away.  The orc had seemed quite confused by his presence earlier, and he doesn't want to announce his presence until he knows what it is he's looking for.

He nearly has to jump back up the stairwell, though, when suddenly the orc is leading Magnus and Merle toward the basement door.  No one seems to notice him, although Merle does pause near the door for a moment.  Kravitz metaphorically holds his breath, and then Merle moves on.