#monster wanderer au

[healerelowen]

I HAVE ANOTHER AU BESTIES HOLY SHIT

And this time it’s mainly about the Dead Challenger/Wanderer concept! 

 I had finished watching a playthrough of Bendy and the Dark Revival and during it I was thinking about how some of the characters coincidentally looked like the concepts that I have for Wanderers. Then I thought, what if the Wanderer’s forms were like their death cards, but they were also grotesque and monstrous versions of themselves as well? In other words, a giant silhouette monster ghost thing that’s just wandering about the place. 

I have a concept design for this;

Take for example my Challenger OC Sparrow, they have an airborne sigil on their right eye as well as wings. These features take accountability in their ‘Monster’ Wanderer form, as they will become evident in their afterlife. 

(the art was a bit rushed but you get the point.)

That being said, this can work with any Wanderer, if they’re a Challenger and they die then it’s going to happen no matter what. However, if a living Challenger gets upset or aggravated enough, to the point where they see red and lose control of their actions and rationality, they can turn into their monstrous form that lies deep inside them. This isn’t a common occurrence of course, but it certainly happens enough that the Scrybes and even some of their underlings have seen it happen before and have taken precautions when it does happen. 

 I’m thinking of some Chaoscule scenarios with this, like maybe the Scrybes come across their partner's spirit and they recognize them. And instead of being hostile, they love on them and snuggle with them just as if they were alive because they still love them to bits. Big ol’ monster partner. 

I also think that while the Scrybes partner is protecting them from something, they can transform because I’d say that your partners being in danger is distressing enough. There will probably be a few more scenarios other than just those two obviously, but I’m just brain dead on those kinds of scenarios right now. Though I’m always open to suggestions if anyone has any. 

I would also like to mention that when all of this is said and done, the Challenger hardly remembers what their time as a monster was like. Their mind is practically blank the whole time and they aren’t thinking about what they’re doing or saying at all. Like I said before, when this happens they lose control of their actions and don’t regain it until they calm down. 

This is the entire opposite if the Challenger is dead and is now a Wanderer. The Wanderer is painfully aware of what they are doing and what they say. While they have some control of their actions, they don’t have full control of their actions, which is very important to note. 

Oh, and I forgot to mention that some Wanderers are hostile towards each other and other people as well. For one reason or another, there are Wanderers that if you even look at them funny, your ankles are going to be chewed like twigs. They’re very aggressive, and that’s why they're called Lurkers. When attacking, they lurk in shadows, which works well as most of their body is pitch black save for their eyes and wound(s).     

 Yeah, so if you thought that Wanderers that are actually decent and aren’t hostile towards anyone get to rest in peace after they die, you’re wrong, very wrong. 

I am not kind to these Challengers my god- 

  To recap; 

-Wanderer spirit turns into a Monster, called a ‘Wandering Monster’. 

-Living Challengers only turn into a Wandering Monster when deeply upset by something

-Living Wandering Monsters don’t remember what happens while dead Wandering Monsters do.

-Hostile Wandering Monsters are called Lurkers.  

[nukavolkov]

Fooling around with the monster/mutant AU again. This time we're bothering the most bothered Fallout man on Tumblr. @galoogamelady 's Buttons.

They're just hanging out. Nothing weird going on here. Oh this guy? Yeah don't worry a out him. He doesn't bite.

[slay-the-monster]

Transcript:

The Narrator: You're on a path by the seaside. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a monster.

The Narrator: You're here to slay him. If you don't, nothing will ever get better.

(tip: some options are marked with (explore), these options allow you to speak through the blog's ask box! If you have something you want to ask you can put it in the ask box now!)

[runraerun]

May God forgive me but a Hot Frosty!Steddie AU where Eddie (being a freak) ((and also a little high)) kisses a snowman and unknowingly brings it to life. ☃️ *dodges rotten tomato*

Hey, if you didn’t want Eddie to make out sloppy style with your snowman then why did you make him so hot, huh??? Why did you carve abs into him? Why’d you give him bedroom eyes?! 😒Anyway… as I was saying…

Eddie leaves, accidentally leaving behind his battle vest on the snowman, heading home to Forest Hills trailer park. Dude’s totally oblivious to the fact that he just performed a freaking miracle, shattering almost every law in the known universe, all because he thought a snowman was fine as hell.

Hot Frosty (aka our boy Steve), can’t do anything but think of Eddie. It’s his first fully formed thought he has as his snowy skin melts and gives way to human flesh. When he sucks in his first breath of cold, winter art, he exhales with Eddie’s name on his tongue. His fingers reach up and gently touch his freshly kissed lips. The kiss that brought him to life; the first and only touch of warmth he’s ever received.

Steve’s not wearing anything besides a very worn denim vest, covered in colorful patches—the one Eddie so thoughtfully gave him. Otherwise, he’s naked as a jay bird. Thankfully, being a snowman, he doesn’t mind the cold. :)

He walks around town, approaching the various townsfolk, asking if they know where Eddie is. He’s looking for Eddie. Do you know Eddie? Y’know, Eddie, the one who loves me. The one who kissed me tonight. He needs to find Eddie. Eddie will be looking for him too, no doubt.

Eventually though, someone calls the fuzz on this very attractive, very confused young man who’s walking around the snow bare-assed and bare-footed. Hopper immediately recognizes the battle vest—he’s busted Munson enough times, and he’s always wearing that beat up thing. So he calls up the Munson residence, but there’s no answer. He leaves a voicemail instead, growling at him to come pick up his clearly distressed boyfriend before Hopper presses public indecency charges.

How will Eddie react when he hears the message?! Will Eddie believe hot frosty!Steve’s far-fetched tale?! WILL THEY FUCK?! (answers: Very confused, not at first, & HELL YEAH THEY DO)

[cairafea]

stupid dungeon meshi au where laios is an unexplainable eldritch monster thing that constantly eats anything he can get his hands on. everyone in the party treats him like a slightly disorderly raccoon. everyone outside the party gets a fastpass to heaven from just seeing him.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 28

PREVIOUS

FF does not like being on pain medication.

Everything feels floaty and it is so hard to focus on anything around him.

He’s almost glad that his Gran has given him something to focus on that something being helping her sell her lie to the Foxes that she only knows Polish. Coach Wymack must know but the man is a steel trap and FF finds himself envying his Gran that HER secret keeper is Coach Wymack.

“Smithy! My sweet beautiful idiot!” Nicky cries when Gran gives Wymack the OK for them to come back in. FF finds himself on the receiving end of 2 forehead kisses and a kiss to each of his cheeks from Nicky. “Next time you see a crazy mafia hitman looking to kidnap me you just grab me and RUN.” He orders pointedly, “No more cool guy shit where you take ‘em out in the weird sex alley.” He runs his fingers through FF’s hair and…

Yeah it’s okay that Nicky is the one that knows.

Nicky is so nice.

“What about Aaron?” FF asks.

“If Romero could grab Aaron when he is in whacky inflatable tube mode then I don’t think he’d be taken out by you and Andrew.” Nicky says with a watery smile.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is offended.

“Learn to dance at a club already. We’ve been going for years.” Nicky shoots back but never takes his eyes off of FF’s face.

“I dance just fine. I’m better than Kevin.” Aaron argues.

“Hey.” Kevin’s voice is offended.

“You are better than Kevin, but that’s not a real standard of good.” Nicky dismisses, “Regardless, next time grab me and I’ll grab Aaron and the three of us can hide literally anywhere other than the weird sex alley. We could go to the back room with Roland or, if it means you not ending up in the hospital with a stab wound, I would even tolerate hiding down in the straight swingers club in the basement.” Nicky says.

He sees Andrew and Captain Neil tense off to the side.

Oh, that’s right.

Oh fun another lie for him to focus on instead of feeling floaty. Gran always talked about the virtue of telling the truth but the only thing set free would be Nicky in a club that he’s not supposed to know about.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Nicky.” FF says instead.

Nicky laughs and kisses his cheek one more time. “You’re my favorite family member now. Sorry Aaron, you’ve made me endure the horrors of a heterosexual relationship for too long.” Nicky says stroking  FF’s face as he looks up to where FF assumes Aaron is.

“Hey.” Aaron says in the exact same way he said earlier.

“Andrew-“ Nicky starts but is cut off.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nicky says, “Neil-“

“Nicky, I also don’t care.”

“At least you have one another to support each other.”

“Wait, what about me?” Kevin asks.

“You won’t even LEARN the family language Kevin, you were NEVER in the running for my favorite.” Nicky dismisses and doesn’t bother to turn back to the  “So Smithy is my favorite family member now with Aras coming in second.”

Two things strike FF in the wake of family conversation.

First, when in the world did Kevin get here? Why is he here? Is he going to ask the doctors to run tests on FF to figure out stealth mode?

Second, Nicky just used his Gran’s nickname. The nickname that causes FF no small amount of embarrassment. It was a youthful indiscretion! He had thought he understood Lithuanian quite well! He had wanted to impress his Great Gran and his Gran with his knowledge.

“You’re looking pale Smith, do you need more pain medication?” Captain Neil asks.

“No, I’m fine.” He is pretty sure that pain meds can’t numb the psychological pain of his friends hearing about his youthful mistakes and he doesn’t care how bad his stomach is going to hurt he wants to only take the absolute minimum amount of pain meds required to get through this so he can stop floating.

Having friends nearby makes it so much easier.

Conversations go on with him and around him. He’s tired still from everything and when a nurse comes in to try and give him more pain medication he declines. All present in the room except Gran try to convince him to take it but he declines all but the most minor amount to take the edge off.

He finally realizes that Kevin had not been with them and asks why the hell he’s here. He gets an answer that makes him reconsider being on any pain medication at all because it doesn’t really make any sense. Why in the world is Kevin telling him not to trust the nutritionist?

Neil lets him know that the FBI are going to be coming around at some point to talk to him. He says that Agent Browning is a dick but generally fine and that there will be a local agent Iruma Matsumoto stopping by before him, probably today. He looks right at Andrew and says “Yeah, I’ll talk with them about how Romero stabbed me.” Andrew lets out an amused puff of laughter that makes FF feel like he might be doing alright at this friendship thing.

He apologizes to Andrew that he can’t make the pie today and gets a flick to his ear.

He finds out that he slept through all of Saturday and that it is Sunday morning. Finds out that his Gran and Wymack had stayed over at the Columbia house last night and that Wymack has him excused from his classes this week. He also finds out that Nicky has given his grandma a key to the house in Columbia so she could stay there while she’s visiting him.

He apologizes to Nicky for messing up the clothes he’d let him borrow and earns another flick to the ear from Nicky.

Wymack hands him a new phone that Nicky has apparently set up for him. His lip quirks up slightly when he sees that Nicky registered it as ’Smithy’s phone’. Neil shows him some stuff since he has the same phone model but Andrew rolls his eyes.

“You’ve barely figured out how to set anything on your phone Junkie. You still haven’t even set a screen lock.” He says as he pulls Neil back from FF’s space.

“I’ve figured out how to change the notification ping.” Neil argues but lets himself be pulled away and if Andrew keeps his arm around Neil afterwards? No one comments on that.

He translates things for his Gran when it seems important for her to be able to respond to and helps Nicky with some pronunciations.

He falls asleep a couple times and wakes up to his friends and teammates in all sorts of different configurations. Nicky gets him some good sugar-free Jell-O from the nurses while Aaron smacks Kevin upside the head when Kevin complains that it’s not good for him and not part of the diet he’s making to get FF back on the Court ASAP. “He’s gotta be on a clear liquid diet for 24 hours after his surgery.” Aaron hisses.

“Why does it have to be clear? I can put it in a blender but it won’t be clear.” Kevin grumbles.

“He’s not going to be on puree’d food for at least two weeks idiot.” Aaron smacks his head again.

“Stop that.”

He hears from Wymack the other Freshman Dealer won’t be returning and that Sheena is now their only Dealer and she does not do defense well. Kevin’s disapproval for the Jell-O cups only grows stronger in light of this news. His grumbling only stops when Gran looks at him and says “Maybe someone should help you pull that stick out of your ass young man.” In her nicest most grandmotherly voice.

When Kevin turns to FF for a translation Nicky beats him to it, “She said a handsome young man like you shouldn’t ruin your face with worries.” He says without a hint that he’s lying.

Kevin preens at the grandmotherly approval of his looks and FF gets to know that he, Nicky and his grandma all have lying in common.

Eventually it’s lunch time and the natural hunger of college athlete boys trumps anything else. Kevin won’t eat anything at the cafeteria since he doesn’t trust the nutritionist so they agree to head out of the hospital to grab food. He’s more tired than hungry so he tells his Gran to go with them. She pats his face and promises she’ll be back with some clear soup for him per the Doctor’s order and despite Kevin’s grumbling that he could make a clear protein shake.

His Gran kisses his forehead and tells him that she’ll be back soon and that he should rest as much as he can.

***

FF can’t sleep.

He tried.

He really did.

But without the noise of everyone else his mind keeps going back to the last time he was in a hospital. He closes his eyes and he can see Gran’s pale face when she tells him that his dad didn’t make it and the tears when she tells him neither-

He can’t sleep.

So he gets up against medical advice and decides to go on a walk. He’s not been connected to any of the monitoring equipment since he had first woken up, just the IV keeping him hydrated. FF decides he wants to get his dad’s leather back because it would make him feel better. The leather jacket has weight that would keep his feet strictly on the ground and it’s something his Gran had given to him when he went off to college so that he could keep his dad close. He could call a nurse but it feels like he shouldn’t distract them with something as stupid as getting him his dad’s jacket so he doesn’t have a panic attack.

So he lets himself slip into the background and heads towards the nurse station. He thinks that might be where they’re holding his belongings. It’s a good first stop if nothing else.

He can’t help but notice a strange number of men in suits but figures that maybe they’re just there to talk to people who seem to have gotten caught up in some sort of mass casualty incident.

He makes it to the nurse station and when a whole 5 minutes goes by without a single nurse clocking that he exists he considers speaking up until he sees a nurse bagging up some clothes, slapping on a label, and heading away.

It’s nice when things work out for him.

Another suit wearing man comes up and a different nurse sees him there immediately and comes up, “What can I help you with?” She asks.

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Smith, he has a stab wound?” The man asks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The nurse responds with exasperation but FF is already almost out of earshot when he hears it because he’s following the nurse with the bag.

He follows her down the hallway and she thankfully takes an elevator instead of going down the stairs because FF doesn’t know how he would have gotten his IV stand down with him.

FF walks in with her and he watches her slump as the doors slide close. Relaxing like most people do when they think they’re alone. Her shoulders go straight back when the elevator opens again and he follows after her.

He follows her to a door that she unlocks and proceeds to enter and FF sees a room full of the same bags with belongs all tagged with a last name and a room number. “Christ, why are there so many fucking Smiths in here right now?” She grumbles but takes him straight to the S section and he sees his own ‘Smith’ and room number.

He grabs it and heads out the door before the nurse and heads into the elevator.

His phone pings with a text message. He opens it and sees a text from an unknown number.

“Come to the Cafeteria. - IM”

FF stares at his phone for a few minutes before the initials click.

Iruma Matsumoto, the local FBI agent who was coming to talk to him today according to Captain Neil. It’s weird to be texted like this but this is the first time he’s ever had to talk to the FBI. Maybe it’s normal? He doesn’t really want to bother Captain Neil about what getting interrogated by the FBI is like since Captain Neil is out at lunch.

He decides to go to the Cafeteria.

FF follows the directory in the elevator and then the arrows that point him towards the cafeteria. He takes a moment to pull his dad’s jacket out and it does help him feel better. He realizes the McDonald’s toy is still in his pocket and thinks that he really should probably turn that over to Agent Matsumoto.

When he gets to the cafeteria he sees even more of those guys in suits and then he sees a well dressed Japanese man sitting by himself at a table. FF has a moment where he thinks ‘Wow that FBI agent sure does look like a member of the Yakuza.’ Before he squashes it because ‘OMG that’s such a fucking racist thing to think. Thoughts from the abyss are the worst and Agent Matsumoto is probably a perfectly nice guy.’

He takes a seat in front of the man who is surrounded by two other of the men in black he’s seen. Oh that guy was probably looking for him to bring him here so they could have the talk.

None of the men seem to notice him and FF realizes that he’s still in stealth mode. He sets the bag with the rest of his clothes to the side and clears his throat.

Three sets of eyes are on him immediately and FF breathes through the anxiety as the two men at either side of Agent Matsumoto seem to reach for something at their holsters.

“Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” He says.

Captain Matsumoto raises a hand and the two men on either side of him return to an at ease position.

***

Ichirou Moriyama could admit to himself that he had been startled when a young man seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him without any warning. He sees a bulge in the man’s pocket that says that he’s armed and he could have done anything before bringing attention to himself. He had men throughout the hospital and no one has spotted Wesninski or any of his cohorts but they had their eyes peeled for the uninvolved civilian who had taken out Jackson on his own and had assisted Wesninski’s guard dog in taking out Romero.

Interesting.

Ichirou clasps his hands together in over the cafeteria table.

“Yes, let’s talk.” He agrees.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themundanemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @cindersapsecrets​

The  requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few  different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I  promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be  something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

[simplegenius042]

WIP Wednesday, My OC's As A Color Quiz & Meet My Character

Tagged by @spookyrares

Tagging @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @minilev @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @softtidesworld @florbelles and @yokobai

WIPs for Life, Despair & Monsters and The Silver Chronicles, this Quiz for the Wings And Horns main cast, and lastly Meet My OC template for two OCs from A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. As you can probably guess, this post does have NSFW content in it. You can read the WIPs, quiz results and find the template below the cut:

First WIP is for my The Invitation WIP (AU?) called An Invite To Wine And Dine. This is either a flashback or a prologue, where Evie Jackson officially meets one peculiar Sir Enigma Malvolio. Or what I'd like to call; five minutes of semi-normalcy before the Horrors(TM) struck. Only warning here is my unfunny running gag, take a gander of what it is:

With her shift over, Evie gave a swift goodbye to Grace and made her way out of the building. She's certain Grace knew something was up, but thankfully gave her some space.

Evie appreciated it.

Out the door and in the afternoon sun, the waitress tried to keep composure over the rising grief that choked at her throat. Her breathing stuttered as she wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears from dropping down.

Crying outside her workplace wasn't what she wanted to do today, but her sorrow seemed to disagree. Sniffling, she turned to make haste back to her apartment, only to be stopped by a voice she'd recently gotten acquainted with.

"Jolly Ho, Ms Jackson!" Mr. Malvolio greeted from behind her. Evie turned around as soon as she had been addressed by the man.

He was leaning his shoulder against a pillar, his rounded handle cane acting as extra support. Or maybe it was for show, she couldn't be sure.

Facing him, she could see he was wearing the same dark blue tuxedo suit he had been wearing the night prior. Now in the sunlight and not in the dim-lighted event, she could could see that his hair was indeed dark, as well as his eyes. And now that they face-to-face, she was surprised by the confirmation that, yes; Mr. Malvolio was, in fact, a head or so shorter than Evie herself.

He grinned with a friendly and overly excited demeanor, though slightly better than a lecherous gaze, it was still oddly off-putting to Evie. She took note that he was older than her; late 30s at the least, maybe forties though.

Even so, she acknowledged his presence with a surprised, "Mr. Malvolio?"

"Please, Ms Jackson, call me Sir- oh," Malvolio paused, grin gone and lips thinned as his eyes narrowed, inspecting her face, "Uh, um, not to alarm you dear, but, hmm, your face seems a little... wet?"

Despite his clumsy observation, Evie swiftly wiped at her face, and not wanting to share her troubles with a stranger, quickly said, "Oh, uh, that's nothing."

Mr. Malvolio pursed his lips, scrutinizing her features, "Are you certain Ms Jackson?"

"Yeah," Evie lied, smacking her lips together, "I just had some tap water spray at me. Didn't have time to dry it off when my shift ended."

To her surprise, Mr. Malvolio didn't question her shitty story, and instead seemed to believe her, "Is that why you're in such a rush? I must warn you dear, with that much haste, you might trip over your legs, and the pavement's quite concrete," Mr. Malvolio gave a small chortle as he added, "Scrapes and bruises wouldn't do so well on your fine skin."

Evie, in spite of being confused on whether that was a sort of jab or some weird form of compliment from the man, gave a half-hearted laugh back, ignoring his words in favor of the burning question, "Uh, Mr. Malvolio, sorry to pry but hadn't you said you'd be making your way back home?"

"Eh, we missed the plane," Mr. Malvolio answered, chuckling humorlessly, "Honestly, American airports are the worst. So Denise and I will be extending our stay for a little while longer in good old New York."

Mr. Malvolio gestured far back behind him, and Evie spotted his bodyguard, adorning a black and red suit contrasting her employer's, watching them from under the shade of a cafe umbrella, the dark-tinted sunglasses still covering her eyes.

That makes some sense, Evie thought, but wondered, But why are you here?

As if reading her mind, Mr. Malvolio added, "And I wanted to personally thank you for such a delightful evening. As well as saving Denise from her nut allergy. She may not look like it... nor will she ever admit it... but deep down she is grateful, as am I."

Evie took another glance at Denise, and even from their far distance, she could tell the only expression she could read on Denise's face was one of apathy.

Regardless though, she smiled in thanks of Mr. Malvolio's gratitude, which seemed so sincere. Maybe he was merely giving platitudes to pat himself on the back, or uphold a reputation. But she cherished what she could.

"That's rather kind of you Mr. Malvolio," Evie stuttered out, feeling like a damn that was cracking, ready to burst. Grace was right, she realised, Maybe my self-esteem's needed a boost from kindness for some time now.

"Please Ms Jackson, it's Sir En-," he pauses, face scrunched and unreadable, as he quizzically asks, "Uh, Ms Jackson, are you certain a tap is the cause of those tears?"

Evie wiped again once more at her face, though she stopped when Mr. Malvolio offered a handkerchief.

She accepted it, bringing the clean cloth to dry her face of the tears. Mr. Malvolio observed her with curiosity, and she absentmindedly wondered if he had never seen a person cry before.

With a small thanks she handed the handkerchief back, which he surprisingly accepted back into his breast pocket. He gave what she assumed to be a comforting smile. She opened her mouth to say something- perhaps an apology, maybe a hasty goodbye- but could not bring the words out when he asked with surprising gentleness, "What terrible loss has afflicted you to bring forth such sadness, my dear?"

Evie hesitated, a moment long enough for her to consider whether telling this man; practically a stranger, about the woes that drown her. One glance to his mature face marked her answer though.

With a shaky breath, Evie revealed to who would be the second person this month of her troubles.

"My mother recently passed away," she told Mr. Malvolio, whose very expression shifted from gentle to unreadable once more.

Here's more of my FC5 Bloodborne AU WIP, where werewolves are involved in Hope County and not in the usual fun way, no these things legitimately massacre people and are beyond complex thought comprehension. Paul and Silva established the Hunters who go on annual nightly hunts to downsize the werewolf population with Eden's Gate help... which has lasted for almost ten years now so you can guess how well that's doing. Also, Faith is a Vicar because Paul's previous one, Obadiah Teal, turned into a big scary werewolf (that breathed fire) [Originally this vicar was named Laurence as reference to Bloodborne but ultimately found a character of my own from Paul's lore to play the part. Obadiah was Paul's lover back on the Archipelagos in The Silver Chronicles but here he's a lost lenore (and future boss fight) in this AU. Apologies for any confusion]. Witness Vicar Faith as she prepares herself for an evening Paul vaguely bothered to warn her about while doing some introspection, and how she yearns for Silva's words of assurances... and, uh, ahem, touch. CW: Minor reference to past suicidal idealization (because Faith), minor mentions of past drug-use (because Faith), maybe two descriptions implying lack of self-care, sexual themes, and, eh, explicit horniness? But it's like a sad longing for intimacy??? I tried my best at keeping it consistent. Anyway, read below:

Green mirrored green, a pair of eyes gazing into the same reflected pair of eyes. Lifeless. Dull. Like her Angels had once been before the Bliss became what it is today.

Faith scrutinized the petite figure before her; in nothing but her undergarments, light brown hair flowing freely over her shoulder, the jewelry and veil she would adorn on herself laid unattended on the vanity, holding close the white shawls and garb that made up her image, which seemed so ragged now. Of age and constant use? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Though, thankfully, her clothes condition were not as dire as the hand-me-down dress Joseph once gifted her, for what little time she owned it.

She wondered what had happened to it. She must have given it back to her brothers at some point, when it became clear she'd have no use to it. Had Joseph kept it, stored it away for safe keeping until the day he believed she'd return from this role? Was it collecting dust in some closet, discarded and forgotten, out of sight and out of mind? Like them? Or how she was now?

Had it been given to someone else? erupted a vile thought, Someone newer, younger and prettier?

When had been the last time her brothers had even visited her.

"When had been the last time he visited you, nuora?" Paul had softly, wearily asked her out of the blue once, as they stood side by side watching her brothers leave from the monastery's window after their last meeting.

Meetings of which were becoming thinner and thinner between duration. Enough time to greet, discuss progress of plans, then leave for weeks and months on end. Never enough to simply sit down and catch up on lost time.

Faith had given Paul a response full of puzzlement, one only meant to acknowledge the surface level of his question. One meant to evade a true answer. She couldn't remember what exactly it was though. Something along the lines of "what do you mean?" or "but we just did, silly?" or whatever mask she had to hide behind.

But she had found it to be all for naught, for it was naive of her to believe that Paul, of all the people she's met, would fall for such cheap tricks. And yet, he cared enough to rephrase his question, "When was the last time he visited just for you?"

Faith hadn't given an answer then. She couldn't find one now.

She huffed, and began to dress, slipping on the garb and shawls that made up Vicar outfit. Clothing of which felt so familiar to her body, as it had been amongst the most common clothes she's worn for nearly seven years now. The sleeves hugged her arms just as the garb fit her frame.

She decided to tighten the Vicar's loose attire last, focused on the jewelry and veil next. She pinned the jewels and gems along the hem of her shawls, the brooches strewn above her chest, and finally the pendant necklace, the most important piece of a Vicar, around her neck. Something that she would usually do instead of Faith.

From close behind her, long and strong arms would snake around to the front of her, to bring the cold touch of the pendant against the warmth of her exposed collarbone's skin.

It was not only the pendent that her Hunter would assist her in, but the laces behind the Vicar's back. Though, Faith mused, my adoring Silva would often struggle to keep on task in favor of more... pleasurable distractions.

Faith's lips curved up into a small smile, the Vicar gazing into the mirror of her not-yet-tightened and loose clothing. She felt an ache within her, and closed her eyes. Not to neglect her duties, but to... indulge, especially before tonight comes.

"You're a Vicar now, after all," Silva had once told her in their very room, sultry voice dripping with barely restrained desire, months after her inauguration and setting up this routine with this... new teasing and exciting tension between them. The ghost of her breath trailed along Faith's exposed neck, like little kisses, causing goosebumps to ripple along the skin. Silva's lips were close enough that it wouldn't take much distance for her to press down on her flesh.

She remembered how bated her breath was, the blood running across her cheeks. Silva must have noticed the red, as she seemed more enamored from the mirror's reflection. Hands on Faith's shoulders, Silva's lips whispered into the shell of her ear, "Here, as our Vicar, you can do as you please. And the Old Hunters will obey. Obadiah forgot that. So have the recruits. But a first hunter, like myself, has not, and will not. We are not meant to restrain our own nature. As long we do not shirk our duties in favor of overindulgence..."

Faith shivered in pleasure as Silva's lips grazed her skin, kissing along her jaw and cheek. Faith sighed, pleased by the contact. She turned her head to face Silva. Her hair was dark and skin were darker than hers, and so were her clothes. Vibrant green orbs gazed into the shining silver of the Chief Hunter's protege. Silva was Enlightened, just like her father.

"...Then we will be able to share our passions without incident," Silva stated, staring into Faith's eyes, slowly closing in

In those eyes were a beckoning; a need for something human to anchor her to this Earthly plane. A Hunter who wanted a Vicar. She, the necessary violence that bordered on the line between primal darkness and humanity whose insight of the world's darkest shades far exceeded Joseph's own... and her, the Monastery's only guiding light that gave promises of hope for seeing the next dawn, knowing yet clueless all the same, in contrast to Silva's sight.

They couldn't be so different from each other. So much contrast that the idea of any sort of union should baffle Faith.

And yet...

Faith gave one glance to Silva's tempting lips, and accepted the invite, crashing her own against the Hunter's. The latter recovered quickly, and pushed all her passion, all her want, all her needs into this one connection. Faith had hummed delightfully, and gasped when Silva's teeth bit down on her bottom lip teasingly.

Shamefully, or maybe shamelessly, she had moaned, which only encouraged Silva's endeavor. Faith, struck with the need to touch, caressed Silva's face, pressing her palm to hold Silva's face.

Faith was almost surprised by how quickly- how greedily Silva leaned into the contact. She smiled into the Hunter's lips though, amused and pleased; the strongest, most dangerous and powerful woman alive, was nothing but mush in the palm of Faith's hand.

Jacob would call this weakness. John would call this lust.

Faith believed this to be worth worshiping.

She broke away from the kiss, hand still on Silva's face. The eye contact they shared spoke in clear volumes of what they both wanted. She could imagine that this wasn't what Joseph had in mind when he sent her over here. Likelihood was, he wouldn't want her to discard the principles he passed down to her even if it meant a rival's destruction.

Faith knew she could stop this. That she could cut this connection from the bud before she defiled Joseph's Word any further.

She knew this, and still curled her hand behind Silva's head, rolling her shoulders so her loosened garb could shrug down to expose more skin. Faith tilted her head so Silva's lips could reach her naked neck, inviting her hunter to ravage at the skin, with promises of more.

With her hand around Silva's head, she guided the other woman to where she needed her attention to be.

Faith traced a hand over her neck, collarbone and covered shoulder. She envisioned the sensual kisses, wet lips pecking at her skin and the loving bites that brought her euphoria.

She trailed that hand down her chest, using her spare to grip her hip, re-enacting from memory how Silva's hands caressed her body, feeling up every curve, every spot, everywhere she could touch.

She hummed, shallow breaths escaped her lips, ecstasy coiled as one hand palmed at her breast, while the other reached lower and lower.

Silva's fingers brushed at her Vicar's clothed sex, and with little self-control to hold her back, the Hunter began to massage Faith's clit. Her lips and teeth continued to cover Faith's skin with a Hunter's affection. Soft murmurs of praise under a native tongue faintly spoken each time Silva tasted the Vicar's flesh, leaving faint bruises, but withholding the strength to break it.

Faith had extended her arms to steady herself against the mirror as Silva had her chase after a high that she was sure no drug could compare to. Her skin felt ablaze with euphoria, a sensation Silva had once admitted rivaled a Hunter's bloodlust during nightly hunts.

Those words had elicited a smug pride that she's sure she'd be shamed for if she expressed it within the Project's Compound.

Grinding against Silva, she could feel the other woman's own excitement digging behind her, and though her actions motivated the Hunter to please her Vicar, it was apparent she was focused on bringing out Faith's pleasure first.

Her legs shook as Silva further stimulated the sensations of her body, Faith's rapid breaths replaced by loud moans of building ecstasy, as Silva's hands massaged her breast and rubbed at her clit and cover her flesh in hickeys.

Faith could feel herself getting closer, strands of hair stuck to her forehead, the pleasure Silva's helped her build up accumulating, with a bated breath, a final release-

"Vicar Faith?" a rough voice belonging to a hunter called out from behind the door with a knock, snapping the woman in question out of her feverish state. The Hunter's voice, who Faith realized belonged to Nadi, continued, "You've been getting ready for a while now. Are you alright?"

Faith, though suffering from irritation, disappointment and a lack of satisfying conclusion to her personal indulgences, managed to reply while only sounding a little breathless, "Yes, I'm fine Hunter Nadi. Just struggles with back laces."

Nadi didn't sound unconvinced from Faith's response as the Hunter stated, "Very well ma'am. I'd just like to inform you that the attendants are being gathered up for this evening's service. And, uh, the Chief Hunter wanted me to add that one of... Eden's Gate' vehicles had arrived?"

Faith felt her blood run cold, and after a momentary silence, Nadi asked, "Vicar Faith, out of curiosity... where will you be going?"

Faith swallowed, letting out a calming exhale as she assuredly said, "Nowhere but here Hunter Nadi. I may have to make an errand to the Convent though, but I'll be escorted by your fellow hunters. Inform the Project members that I will not be leaving the Monastery for tonight."

Hunter Nadi accepted the answer with a small "of course ma'am" and Faith heard the woman's footsteps became fainter and fainter.

Faith huffed out in relief, looking herself in the mirror. She was a little red, and a bit hot and bothered. While the interruption was certainly personally undesirable, she was glad Nadi informed her of their now leaving guests.

Pulling the loose laces behind her to tighten the Vicar's garb, she reached for the final piece; the veil, adorned with a crown of flowers and three red gems. She always wondered what significance this Vicar garb held. It wasn't too dissimilar from a bride's dress, but far more intricate and detailed (and time consuming to put on) than the dress Joseph gifted her.

Paul said that it was designed to make her look ethereal to their converts, trustworthy and responsible, someone to seek guidance and find hope in.

Meanwhile Silva's only interest in the Vicar's garb was to get Faith out of it.

Not that I minded it, she thought coyly.

Many nights she spent in the other women's chambers, or they stayed in her own, pursuing a fiery passion after an uneventful service, or mending the Hunter's wounds after a long hunt. Then there were the quiet moments, where the only intimacy either shared was an embrace.

Neither could keep their hands off one another; touch was as important as their words, letting one know the other was still present.

Which was far from what Joseph had wanted her to do. Her role was to hold influence over the Monastery, to lower their guard and slowly introduce the Word. Keep the sinners from temptation until the beasts were eradicated and the Reaping came, and she'd reunite with her brothers at the Compound, and the false shepherds were both dead.

Though once her escorts return to Joseph without her, Faith was certain he'd figure out that she was one who fell for temptation. Especially if he finds out she confessed to Paul about the plan, and aided him in setting up Joseph's arrest.

Not for Paul though. Nor for the hunters and the converts.

Joseph had given her so much; a new name, a purpose, a family, a second chance at living. Once she was a girl who could only find escape through the needle, tip-toeing between the line of life and death. And he transformed her into someone else; someone worth more. Breathing a into her a new life that she didn't think was possible within her. Nurturing her with his word, with guidance.

She let go of Tracey for him, even though she wished her best friend had stayed. She had left Rachel behind for him. She gave him the Bliss and Angels. She gave him her entire being, to mold and shape in his image.

Sure, the family he took her into wasn't perfect; despite their similarities, John resented her for the attention and praise Joseph sung of her, and she wasn't naive to think Jacob cared for her. He's sat through two sisters; really, how important would a third be?

But that hadn't mattered to her at the time; to Faith, Joseph's was all that mattered.

And that was true, for a time. Just like it had been true for Tracey. And she would always be grateful for him, just as she had been for her former friend.

But she couldn't let Silva die. Not after three painful years trying to wake her up.

Here is the OCs become color quiz results for the main four characters of Wings And Horns; Archangel Metatron, Cadet Azriel, Xiang Ba'al and Jezebel Ba'al. Read below:

ARCHANGEL METATRON

By the finale, this is most definitely true for Metatron.

CADET AZRIEL

This quiz must know Azriel's future because damn!

XIANG BA'AL

Not really Xiang's style. He's a good dad but he's also an extremist in many ways.

JEZEBEL BA'AL

Jezebel's been through some tough shit, I don't think pinning all the blame on her is really fair.

[Meet My Character for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Specifically Courier Ryder and Alph Dolen]

And lastly Meet My Character sheets for my Courier Ryder and Alph Dolen from my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series.

COURIER RYDER (FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS)

Her “Pronouns” are supposed to be:

She/Her

Her "Defining Features" state: Reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, has scars from past fights on her face, one noticeably at the edge of her left brow, wears riot gear with a courier's drip but not the helmet.

ALPH DOLEN THE LONE WANDERER (FALLOUT 3)

His "Defining Features" state:

Ginger, hazel eyes, predominantly wears wasteland survivor gear with Tunnel Snakes Jacket, after being ghoulified his skin starts greying and becomes sunken, starts losing hair.

Blank Template for those who want to use it:

[vroomian]

In the black hole au, it’s important to me that you guys know that masa’s personal timeline is way fucked up and he is, in fact, older than pentagram city, and pehaps hell as a concept.

[billie-the-sleepyhead]

Egotober day 27: Ghoul

Well technically “ghoulish”? A vampire Actor!Mark counts right?

He was originally supposed to be a ‘Dracula design’ but I did make it by mashing the actor with a vampire bat so I say it counts. A specially since he looks half crazed in a graveyard after having a snack. (Who knows. Maybe it was drug blood and he’s not use to it.)

[writerandbaka]

My first (and probably last) attempt to make custom original keychains (☆▽☆) Well, now I'm finally happy to have a little Deerper and Foxtaglia with Scarameow to hang on my bag ahahah I love theeeeemmmm σ(≧ε≦σ)

[randomkduck]

now that I have the prologue posted, here's something that went to tiktok first because idk I could?

[healerelowen]

I heard you wanted to talk about an au

Which au?

*mischievous giggling*

Well that honestly depends on what you guys want to learn more about or just see more often. I have a plethora of Aus and concepts crawling around in my brain like ants. I have a list if any body needs an idea as to what I could talk about.

Second stoat card au

Chaoscule

-Wanderer aus (Monster wanderer, evil wanderer, ect.)

System!p03 au

Giant Uberbots

[nukavolkov]

Some silly doodles cause I can't finish anything lately.

Sometimes you gotta just...

To your good buddy.

And is it still cannibalism if you're not a human anymore 🤔

[slay-the-monster]

• ["Can we talk?"]

Transcript:

"....sure. We can talk."

"....but you'll have to come down here first."

----

The Narrator: You walk down the stairs and lock eyes with the monster. Although he blends into the shadows of the basement you can see that there's a chain attached to his wrist, binding him to the far wall of the basement.

Heart of the Wanderer: He's...a lot more docile than I thought he would be. Is he really the one hurting people?

The Narrator: Yes. Please focus on the task at hand.

"There you are."

"Now, what are you here to talk about?"

Heart of the Wanderer: We shouldn't keep him waiting.

*[sit with the monster]

-------

[Now's the time to talk with him]

[anonymous-dentist]

thinking about loboier carrying the kids around the same way really big dogs will carry small kids and he purposefully makes really big steps just to make them laugh

Richarlyson doesn’t know that werewolves are actually real yet but when he does he’s gonna make both his Pai Forever and his Pa Roier carry him around to see who gives better rides (Forever will win every time because he’s just so much bigger than Roier is)

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

I’m pretty sure you mention monster au Cesar being like a blurry faceless image to Mark. He’s just sort of there at times hanging about, but can anyone else possibly see him? Like a glimpse out of the corner of their eye or some blurred figure in the far distance…or is just Mark that sees him?

Pretty much the only person that can see him is Mark, due to Cesar being Tethered to him because he was killed BY Mark.