#so now I love t when the body horror is horroring. and when the cursed artifacts are cursing

[astronomodome]

New spooky third life AU just got birthed in my head whilst taking a shower. Ironically Cleo is one of the only ones who isn’t some kind of undead beastie. Details to follow in 2-3 business days

[arimiadev]

spooky indie visual novels you've never heard of for spooky season

since it's October I thought I'd put together a list of spooky indie visual novels (horror, Halloween, creepy, dark comedy, anything in the spirit of the season goes) that you've probably never heard of but can play right now on itchio!

model employee

Model Employee is a corporate horror visual novel. Just discharged from the hospital and massively in debt for their life-saving cybernetics, the player-character must adapt to the “extreme” work-life balance of a Tethys Team Member- but they have help. Penny, the artificial personality that controls all security, waste disposal, and employee surveillance in the facility, specializes in reinforcing an especially cutthroat variety  of workplace culture- and she’s taken an interest in you.  If you want to get ahead in your career, you gotta be willing to take some risks.

model employee is such a tightly structured visual novel for being made in just one month for a game jam, making full use of everything while surprising you at every corner. every part of this game was so well planned and thought out- dystopian corporate satire isn’t my cup of tea (we’re living it) but the way they present everything in this game makes it feel so much more intense.

beary the hatchet

It’s Halloween 199X, and you killed someone during your morning shift. Honestly it’s inconvenient. This job was imperfect, sure, but you got to wear a mask with no questions asked and the pay was livable. But now you’ll have to keep the body in the backrooms till your shift is done. Bummer. “You’re… the absolutely WICKED and AWESOME Bearwater Grizzly Killer, aren’t you?!” …and now enters the dreaded true crime fan.

beary the hatchet is such a uniquely lovely game to look at, even if the subject matter is grim. I love the color palette and tones in this, I love the 2.5D graphics, I love how expressive all of the designs are. it’s a game oozing with style.

WE KNOW THE DEVIL

Anyone can kill the devil; that’s why they always make teens the vampire slayers, the magical girls. But some kids can’t even get that right; and that’s why meangirl Neptune, tomboy Jupiter, and shy shy Venus have to endure one more week of summer camp and each other, singing boring songs about jesus, doing busywork for adults, and hoping god’s radio can’t hear them. Before they can leave the summer scouts, they’ve got to spend twelve hours in the loneliest cabin in the woods and wait for the devil to come and live through the night–or not. You know.

it’s a visceral experience, something that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. I love the direction for it, the sketchy monochrome sprites against the colored photos- parts when there aren’t any characters on screen feel that much more real, like you’re watching found footage because of how tense everything is.

disconnect

Late at night, a phone call from a friend keeps disconnecting from you… On and off, on and off, constantly… …What would you do if you realized your friend wasn’t who you thought they were? And how would you react when the truth was finally revealed? (“̷̢̑W̸̨̊o̸̫͊u̷̱͝ḽ̸͛d̴͉̐ ̵̚ͅy̵̜̽o̸̥͗u̷̮̎ ̷̜̏s̶̤̄t̸̥͐i̴̻̕l̸̰͝l̸͉̓ ̷͕́ȁ̸̩c̸̡̓t̵̜̊ ̵͓̈t̶̙̄h̶̦͂e̸̩͠ ̸̩̅s̶̘̏a̷̪͛m̵̮͒e̴͖͑ ̸̭́w̷̨̚á̴̱y̵̯̑?��͎̌"̷͈̆) Find out what happened to our scaredy-cat protagonist, Indie－a famous horror storyteller on the H-T-M (Horror, Tales, and Mystery) forum. What would she do when she unintentionally uncovered a mystery hidden deep within her own home?

I love the style of disconnect and the unorthodox way of getting to the truth of the matter. I’m not normally one to play furry VNs, but the designs are adorable and I love the presentation of the game, it has a lot of animation in it. there’s also one moment not too far in on this screen that made me scream…

curse of the juniper tree

Curse of the Juniper tree is a tale of two siblings, a cursed tree and an isolated village. It is a short kinetic visual novel featuring 2d exploration. Walk around the snowy village and talk to its inhabitants! Story is loosely based off the fairytale called The Juniper Tree by the Brothers Grimm in Grimm’s Fairy Tales in 1812.

this is a lovely and short story about two siblings living in a frozen land together. it’s a very atmospheric story with so many beautiful blues and detailed character designs. the controls were a bit hard to figure out at times but it’s worth your time.

reaplaced

Grea Perrim is a reaper of souls, and it’s her duty to bring the deceased to the other side. But in the world of reapers, death isn’t any kind of equalizer. The value of a soul is directly tied to the peculiarity of its death. Grea’s supernatural senses bring her to a Halloween house party with three costumed guests. She soon finds the most valuable kind of soul: the victim of a locked-room murder. In order to reap the soul, Grea must unravel the identity of its killer and explain its death in full. Is this the work of a human? A witch? Or something else entirely…?

reaplaced is a fun little whodunnit set on Halloween about a grim reaper out on the hunt who finds herself in the middle of a murder mystery. it’s much more indepth than I was expecting and the soundtrack is wonderful—there’s a lot of small touches to it that make it great.

Silver Thread

An exorcist that doubts the existence of ghost might sound contradictory but to Alicia Wilkershire, this is the right way to get closer to the truth. Her latest job sounded like another run-of-the-mill case and she greeted her client with her usual pessimism but is it, really?

Silver Thread is a spooky and short RPGM game about a skeptical exorcist trying to help a guy with his problems. the style is lovely and if you also like this kind of style, the developer has several other RPGM games like this!

Elevator Hitch

Elevator Hitchis a short 2.5D surreal horror/escape room visual novel with point-and-click and puzzle elements following the story of two co-workers suddenly finding themselves stuck together in a "Perfectly Normal" 70s office elevator.  They must explore each liminal-looking floor and find a way to get off the elevator to their actual destinations.

like a few others on this list, Elevator Hitch was made in just a month for the Spooktober Visual Novel Jam and was my favorite game from the year it came out (2022). it's more of an adventure style game than pure visual novel, so expect puzzles and a lot of bad ends! this developer also has a lot of other similar style adventure visual novels.

The Case of the Serialized Killer

When a popular illustrator is found dead, disgraced demonologist Harold Ludicael is hired to summon her ghost. Ghosts are the one thing he can't summon, but with sharp insight, perhaps he can solve the mystery, and resurrect the most important thing: His career.

this visual novel is an absolute feast on the eyes as all of the art is done by traditionally painted watercolor artworks! the characters are all unique and the world feels very lived in. if you like murder mysteries then check it out.

Stillwater

"𝕊𝕖𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕖…" A woman arrives with a mysterious letter in hand addressed to her grandfather. Etched in crimson is a foreboding message, a warning—a promise made from a time forgotten. Private Investigator Hugo Laurent and his assistants must solve this bizarre case before an old family's curse befalls them all.

Stillwater is a lovely looking game - I love everything about the art direction for it. it's not overly scary but very atmospheric with several endings to find.

Who is the Red Queen?

Alice falls down the rabbit hole into a Wonderland not quite right. Meeting an eclectic collection of people, animals, and some things in between, she sets out on an adventure in this odd new place to find the missing Red Queen. Or, more specifically, to find the pieces of the dismembered queen whose body has been strewn across the land.

a familiar but new take on Alice in Wonderland, now with a lot more yuri. like a lot of the VNs I've recommended, this was originally made in just 1 month. this one in particular has a lot of dead ends, mention of gore & dismemberment, and other content warnings.

okay now that you've made it this far I'm going to promote my gay horror / Halloween visual novels

Asphodelium

Hazel is an ex-adventurer who's settled down with some of his previous guildmates after the adventure of a lifetime—taking down a doomsday cult that tried to end the world, but at the cost of killing their former guild leader who turned against them. Despite their adventure still haunting him months later, he's tried to move on. —That is until a man with the same face as their guild leader approaches him. This is a story about cults and killing and killing cults. And being in love.

Asphodelium is a melancholic dark boys love visual novel that I made solo in about 3 months. it's entirely in NVL mode (I love you NVL) and around 3 hours long and my personal favorite game I've made so far.

Dahlia

a vampire has snuck into your room while you were sleeping. the only question is - are you next on her menu? Dahlia is a very short sapphic visual novel made in under 36 hours for the Velox Formido game jam, a jam for shortform visual novels. survive being trapped with a lovely little vampire, or don't.

also NVL mode because I love NVL mode. this is a short and sweet vampire visual novel I made solo in a weekend for a game jam that has several different endings.

Witch You Want

With a rather sparkly magical paper, you find a job listing for a local witch needing an assistant with making potions before the town festival that weekend. You sign up, unsure exactly what to expect...... A pompous and questionably excellent witch runs a local apothecary in town but finds that if she wants to make enough potions before the festival that weekend to sell (and keep her ongoing potion shop afloat) she'll need some assistance. After a dubious help wanted ad, she gains you as an assistant. Will the two of you see through to the festival? Will you be able to make a single potion? Will this girlfailure capture your heart?!

this is my latest visual novel that released just a few days ago! I directed & programmed this short cutesy game for a game jam at our studio. it's pretty fluffy romcom with a potion minigame in it. please help our girlfailure make potions, she needs all the help she can get.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 1st

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1. Hi!!! I’ve been looking for an older fic lately and can’t seem to find it. It’s an explicit modern AU friends with benefits fic where lan zhan realizes he’s in love with wei ying and breaks up with him as a result and then pining ensues. The only specific thing I remember is that the very first scene is of lan zhan realizing he’s in love with wei ying while they are having sex. Thank you for all of your awesome work on this blog!!

FOUND? Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole)by piecrust (E, 22k, WangXian, Porn with Feelings, College/University)

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2. Hi! Looking for this fic where WWX's lips got sealed/sewn shut by the cultivation community and imprisoned in Lotus Pier. I *think* JL lets him go or he has to work with LWJ and JWY on a case? TYSM!

FOUND? ❤️ whipstitch by curiositykilled (M, 131k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Torture, WWX Lives, but basically no one else, Case Fic, Cultivation Sect Politics, Past Abuse, WWX Whump, YLLZ WWX, JL Needs a Hug, JL Tries, Yunmeng Bro Reconciliation, Past Character Death, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Alternating, Flashbacks, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Depression, Not A Fix-It, Mouth Sewn Shut)

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3. Looking for a fic. Set in cloud recesses era, lan wangji is female and I think Wei wuxian is as well. Lwj is a virgin and wwx sends a paperman up her skirt during class and ends up getting her off. @leahlisabeth

FOUND? Carte Blanche by Rionaa (E, 3k, WangXian, Smut, PWP, Dubious Consent, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Underage Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Macro/Micro, Gender Changes, Cisswap, Female WangXian, also female JC, it's a total gender swap, all the boys are now girls because i say so, Virginity, First Time)

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4. hello again! this is for fic finder. i have an image in my head of wwx going to lotus pier with lwj’s family, i think? he was given a silver and onyx guan by lwj (i think it belonged to his father) and madam yu caught him wearing it and she ripped it out of his hair, saying “so you fancy yourself a young master now?” and later i think lan qiren puts it back in his hair when wwx is with lwj and his family. i think he’s betrothed to lwj here but i’m not sure. @ieatkitcat

FOUND! The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, WangXian, Time Travel AU, fixit, Temporary Character Death, all women live no women die, LWJ’s canonically intense feelings about everything all the time, WWX’s clinical depression gets treated and blamed on resentful energy, navigating gay marriage in ancient china by utiliizing class snobbery for your own ends, if you’re not sure whose fault anything going on in here is then blaming NHS is probably a good bet, WWX plays ‘summon LWJ’ it’s super effective!, the ‘unexploded cow’ approach to dealing with your enemies)

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5. Please help me find this fic. Lan zhan and nie huaisang travel to past during burial mounds and weight yong create a track hundred holes curse back to who cursed them. And wei ying create yillng guide too. And lan zhan make a new identity. It is archived I think. @wangxian02

For 5, I can't find the fic, but it sounds like one where LZ and NHS became friends, and NHS sent gay porn to LZ (in crates?). The chapter where the tracking of the 100 holes curse was done was one of the last published, and JZx ended up forcefully stripping SS, causing much hilarity in the onlookers. LZ commissionned the tracker from WY in a secret identity.

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6. Hello there! I'm looking for this particular fic where wangxian and juniors are out on a nighthunt and they somehow end up needing to view each other's memories? I can't remember much else except that the memories are kind of random and there's a lot of feelings!

FOUND? unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, WangXian, Memories, Memory Fic, Kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, sexual content maybe, References to Torture, PTSD, Characters Watching Their Series, kinda, but not entirely, very light consensual non-consent)

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7. Two things for fic finder! 🐇🖤💙

A) a threadfic on the ex-bird app where JL was poking around in Koi Tower and ended up finding WWX in a room where the only(?) access point was a grate in the ceiling. It maybe took a while but eventually they got JC involved.

B) modern AU where LXC misunderstands WWX and drives him to cancel his plans to spend Xmas(? or some holiday anyway) with LWJ. WWX gives LWJ a star lantern as a gift, which makes the Lan bros reassess the situation and LXC (rightly) feels like an ass and promptly pivots to "I have a second didi now". @linderel

7A)

FOUND! Thread fic by greenteafiend1

7B)

FOUND!🔒 in any universe, you by sundiscus (M, 12k, WangXian, multiple AUs, summary and tags specified in each chapter!) It's the first of four shorts in one collection.

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8. For the next fic finder, can you help me find this fic where, after siege, wwx is apprehended and sent to the nie sect. His lips are sewn shut with a version of the lan silencing spell. Golden core reveal bc he couldn't eat and had no core to practice inedia. @akweenbitch

FOUND? ❤️ whipstitch by curiositykilled (M, 131k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Torture, WWX Lives, but basically no one else, Case Fic, Cultivation Sect Politics, Past Abuse, WWX Whump, YLLZ WWX, JL Needs a Hug, JL Tries, Yunmeng Bro Reconciliation, Past Character Death, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Alternating, Flashbacks,   Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Depression, Not A Fix-It, Mouth Sewn Shut) the Golden Core reveal happens in chapter 8

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9. Hello! I created an account on Tumblr just to ask this. I need help finding a fic. It's canon divergence, post bloodbath of Nightless City. I don't remember well the beginning but Lan Wangji rescues Wei Wuxian and they escape, at some point they find a cottage in the forest(?) and it's near a village. Wei Wuxian stays in the cottage and Lan Wangji goes out to work with the villagers and get food. There's even a scene when he brings rabbit meat for Wei Wuxian but he didn't hunt it, the villagers gave it to him. There's another scene when LWJ hadn't returned home and it was getting late, WWX decides to go out and search for him, it was raining, they meet in the middle and kiss, they end up making love in their cottage. I remember that towards the end LXC found them and WWX goes to Cloud Recesses with LWJ. Please, I'm kind of desperate because I really loved the fic but I can't find it anymore. I appreciate your help.

FOUND? Hyperprosexia by malkinmalkout (E, 192k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sentinels & Guides, Sentinel WWX, Guide LWJ, Empath LWJ, Slow Burn, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, WWX POV, LWJ POV, Tags Contain Spoilers, Telepathy, Marriage, outsider pov, they have a kid, Telepathic Sex, Rough Sex, public exhibition, breath play, Rimming)

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10. Hi! Thank you all for your hard work 💕 for the next ficfinder I am looking for a wangxian Fic, I believe modern au, wwx gets shot near the end, and I think the setting is like a tower in the forest maybe? Has a happy ending. Sorry this is so vague. @vi-sky

FOUND? ❤️ start getting real by azurewaxwing (T, 21k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Reality TV, POV Outsider, Golden Core Reveal, (sort of), Appropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Silencing Spell, Getting Together) Did a deep dive into my read history because I had a vague recollection, came up with a possible match for #10. Checks off the boxes for "modern" and "tower in a forest" but can't remember if WWX got shot at any point.

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11. Hi, for Fic Finders but also for I'm in the mood for. I'm looking for a story where Yu Ziyuan died early in the story, her maids end up working in the laundry for the sect 'cause is the only way they can remain so they can watch over Yanli and Jiang Cheng. Wei Ying is there but he's not a disciple. @monicaop21 ~snipped to an ITMF ~Mod L

FOUND! see all the colors in disguise by Stratisphyre (G, 3k, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, genius WWX)

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12. helloo! i remember a fic about how wwx lied to his friends about having a crush on lwj just to get them off his back, and then lwj overheard. lwj then proceeds to try woo wwx (?) i think by saying hi to him more and making him food i believe, and wwx is questioning why lwj is acting so weird + starts to actually develop a crush on him for reals. thankyou @f1sh1ng4gl0ry

FOUND? it’s just (aah) a little crush (crush!) by sweetlolixo (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Romance, Fluff, Pining LWJ, Humor, Courting Rituals, Teen Wangxian)

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13. Hello there is a fic and I remember that it was wwx and lwj as secret agents and there was a short scene where wwx faked his death (it wasn't a major part of the plot) and lwj was crying and wwx is never allowed to fake his death for a mission again

FOUND? 🧡 some life yet unspent by Fahye (E, 28k, WangXian, Background XiYao, Spy AU, Modern AU, 007 LWJ, Q WWX, Fluff and angst, Mutual pining, Injuries, Canon typical violence)

FOUND? where angels fear to tread by besanii (T, 3k, WangXian, James Bond Fusion, Spies & Secret Agents, Reconciliation, Presumed Dead, Quartermaster LWJ, Double-Oh WWX)

FOUND? a bite of a vow, a taste of the truth by occultings (microcomets) (E, 29k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Case Fic, It's For a Case, Work partners, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing, Pining While Fake Fucking, Truth Serum, Whump, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Voyeurism, Monsters, Succubi & Incubi, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Barebacking, Happy Ending, medically discouraged anal, Brief Subspace, impressive heights of soap opera plot) has a brief flashback to wwx faking his death on a case. It's a modern with magic AU where they're cultivation partners for work, rather than secret agents, but it might still fit?

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14. Hi. I am looking for a wangxian fanfic on ao3 where lan zhan has a secret room in jingshi. Wei ying finds out that it is filled with various items and lan zhan confesses that throughout the years of wei ying's death he has been buying things which he thought wei ying would like. Lan zhan then thinks that wei ying would be weirded out by it. I guess they confess their love to each other after that (not sure about this part)

It is definitely less than 100k words. Thank you. @obsessingly-distracted

FOUND? rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los (M, 13k, wangxian, sugar daddy (slightly), case fic, domestic horror, architectural horror, gift giving, happy ending, getting together, confessions)

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15. Hi, I'm searching for this fic I read a long time ago. In the fic, Wei Wuxian adopted Xue Yang and Lan Yuan. There was one specific scene where Jiang Cheng hurt Lan Yuan and Xue Yang because they bumped into him. Then Wei Wuxian tried to protect them and got hurt instead. Lan Zhan got angry and demand a duel with Jiang Cheng. During the duel, Lan Zhan gave Jiang Cheng a pill and applied some talisman on him to destroy his core. That's all I remember. Thanks in advance! @moo-oos

FOUND? Not This Time by Marinelifeclub (M, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Angst, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Resentful WWX, Established Relationship, POV Alternating, Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Minor XuanLi, not for jc fans, eventual 3zun, Kid Fic)

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16. theres this fic where jiang yanli kills jin guangshan after he tries to assault her and madam jin covers it up even tho a lot of people saw her do it, and it results in jin zixuan legitimizing jin guangyao and they get closer! jin guangyao calls jin zixuan "xiongzhang" and its rlly heartwarming. but by the end of it jin guangyao ends up getting stuck in a mine and it takes the combined efforts of lxc, jc, lwj, and wwx for him to get freed. before that, the jiang sibs all take down jin zixun and yeah its a great fic but i forgot the title ;w;

FOUND! Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JZX & JGY, JYL & WXX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Romance, Developing Relationship, Family, Sibling Bonding, Light Angst, Politics, Attempted Sexual Assault, some murder on occasion, People talking about their feelings, processing their trauma, The good shit)

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17. hi there! i've been struggling to find a fic that i've read a few times before. i thought i bookmarked it but i simply can't seem to locate it. it was a canon divergence where wen ning gives his golden core to jiang cheng after wen qing finds out wei wuxian is expecting. the wen clan survives in this au, too!

FOUND? 🧡 Don't Wanna Fall by nekojita (M, 111k, WangXian, Mpreg, A/B/O, Fix-it, Lots of pining, Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence, Child thief WN)

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18. Hi! Thank you for the work you do, I’ve found some great fics through you 🙂 I’m trying to find a fic some a previous “I’m in the mood for” that I lost when the tab closed by mistake. In it, Jiang Cheng marries off Wei Wuxian to the Lans, Wangxian fuck and Wei Wuxian goes bamf by putting the Elders in their place. That’s as far as I got. Please help 🥹Thank you. @starrie-amethyst

FOUND? Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, JC & WWX, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it’s open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, WWX is Loved, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives)

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19. Hello! Thank you for all the work you do!! For fic finder, there’s a fic I read earlier this year that I can’t find in my history. It was a case fic, I *think* modern with magic but I wouldn’t stake my life on it, where even though wwx and lwj were estranged, they accidentally end up on the same night hunt (the juniors are there, lwj is supervising them I think). They get trapped in a rundown manor by the resident spirit, who turns out to be a jilted bride, who trapped them bc it turns out that shortly before wwx’s disappearance, he and lwj slept together, and the ghost is projecting onto them, so they get shotgun married to please the ghost

FOUND! Back to Bite One by diamondbruise (E, 21k, wangxian, modern w cultivation, past sex pollen, case fic, forced marriage technically, misunderstandings, happy ending)

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20. Hi! I'm looking for a transmigration fic! It starts with someone being shoved into the body of someone in a western sect, like a weird parody of SVSSS, the main character is on the scholar peak, and moonlights as a healer, but has to cross-dress for it (because healing is feminine there?). He knows the book he's in, and hates it because just like Luo Binghe, the stallion main character has so many red flags, and his little sister is like Ning YingYing, and doomed to be the little sister/first wife trope of the insane main character, and he's doomed to be killed by his older brothers (because toxic masculinity?) so that his little sister has a sad back story and reason for revenge. He takes his little sister and they run away to the East, where they decide which sect to join, and settle on Yunmeng Jiang. Their entrance exam has them fight Wei Wuxian, and Madame Yu crashes the party and fights them all, and accepts them into the sect. Then they have a chapter where they fix up a house for them and the main character freaks out about the sad library there (because humidity) and plans to go on a spree, and the Jiang are not displeased to have a scholar that wants to make their library great. It wasn't finished, I think. @constellationcorrelation

FOUND?🔒 Live (I've only been dreaming) by Araceil (M, 33k, WIP, (Onesided) OMC\OMC, WangXian, WN/OFC, LXC\OMC, Isekai, Transmigratation, Classic Tropes, subverting tropes, Past Child Abuse, PTSD, touch starvation, Touch Aversion, Depression, Anxiety, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, Gore, Undead, world building, Yandere Male Character (Not the SIOMC), Obsessive Behaviour, Canon Typical Misogyny, (that also gets called out), MDZS Canon is Derailed, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, OMC & OFC Siblings, oblivious OMC, JYL finally gets a little sister, JYL Protection Squad, Chapter Specific Warnings Inside) It's really good, it's a shame it doesn't look like they are continuing it.

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[mahitomylove]

i am so glad you take requests 💕💕 i always get nervous when writing them, but i don’t know why. could you write mahito x reader and mahito comes home after a really bad fight and he’s so scared bc he thought he was gonna die, and he’s just clinging to reader because he’s scared 💕 and the reader has to comfort him? thank you 💕 (also can i be 🌪️ anon pls)

Thanks for the request! Oh my god I love this idea so much 💜💜

Mahito x Reader, Fluff, you comfort Mahito after he has a deadly fight

It was midnight, and you couldn't bring yourself to sleep. Perhaps, it was the absence of Mahito that made you feel uneasy, your house was so lonely without him. You grabbed your phone, mindlessly scrolling when you heard your window open. The sound would've freaked you out had you not been used to Mahito randomly breaking in your house to say hi.

You turned your phone off, putting it to the side. It was completely dark, making it hard for you to see his expression. You had a glimpse of his face for an instant, his face showing absolute horror. He softly said your name, his voice trembling a bit.

You immediately stood up, "Mahito? Is everything alright?"

"Why are you awake right now?" he said, gently dropping to the floor without making a single sound, as if he was floating.

"T-That doesn't matter, are you okay?"

He took few steps towards you, pushing you and forcing you to sit on on the ground. His arms enveloped your waist. He buried his face in your chest, his grip on you tightening. You patted his back and returned the hug. What was he doing?

"Mahito? What happened?"

He remained silent. You could feel the warmth of his body, which was odd, since he was a cursed spirit. . He was shivering in your arms. You've never seen him like this before. Concern engulfed you, unable to find the right thing to do. What made it even worse was that he wouldn't respond.

"Mahito... I'm worried."

"I had a pretty... intense fight."

"And?"

"Almost died. I'm scared Y/N... I'm so scared. I don't know what to do."

"Aww. Dear... But you're okay, right?"

"I couldn't even move properly. My legs wouldn't move. If the enemy didn't hesitate, I would've died..." He pulled away, clinging on your neck this time. You felt his breath right on your cheek. "I don't want to die... Please." You knew he wasn't talking to you at this point. He was, perhaps, talking to himself. But you remained still, silently listening to his venting.

"Just when I thought I've mastered my technique... Fuck. What do I do?"

"It's okay, Mahito, it's okay. Everything is fine."

"And..." he was on the verge of tears, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"But you're alright now. Look at me, dear. I'm here." You gently caressed his hair. "Baby, everything is alright. Don't be afraid. Next time, I'll come with you, okay?"

He nodded in response.

"If you feel like crying, that's okay, I won't judge."

"It's not that... I just..." he sighed, closing his eyes as you were caressing his hair. "The only thing at my mind when I thought I was dying... was you. If there is an afterlife, I know we'd probably never meet there. I don't know what I'd do without you..."

"Mahito, don't you know I'd always choose hell if it meant I'd be with you?"

This was the first time you saw this side of his. He was beyond horrified, trembling. His voice was shaky. Normally, it would've been the other way around, not like this. Was the fight really that bad?

"Let's look at the bright side, you're alive, and in my arms right now!"

"Promise me."

"Huh?"

"That you'll never leave my side again."

You chuckled, "I promise, Mahito! Next time, take me with you and I'll beat the shit outta these."

"Mahito, if it will make you feel better, how about we cuddle?"

"Y-yes please. And thank you."

[simp2537]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢

A/n: Aizawa and Reader finally meet 🥺🥺🥺. Alice!reader is such a sweetheart, she’s literally my child. I love her so much. All series triggers bellow as always.

Word Count: 867

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Blood, Horror, Cursing, Child Abuse, Human experiments, Child abandonment, Angst, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Insomnia, etc

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗

Aizawa slowly seat next to the girl as the strange cat in the air disappears. The girl just stared at Aizawa. Aizawa watched as the girl didn’t move.

“What your name kid?” Aizawa pondered.

The girl tilted her head. A look of confusion covered her face. She looked like she had no idea what that was.

“Okay then…. You don’t have a name.” Aizawa said. Aizawa thought to himself for a moment. He had a list of questions in him brain.

“How old are you?” Aizawa asked. The girl thought for a moment then held up eight fingers. Aizawa nodded but a look of shock was on his face. She was so small for an eight year old. Aizawa thought back to what the doctor had said. 

Years of abuse, right that probably why she was so small Aizawa thought to himself. Aizawa looked the girl over. She was a cute kid. She looked like she’d been pulled out of a fairytale.

Long h/c h/t hair that shined in the light. Big and sweet eyes e/c eyes. A doe like face with sweetness writer all over it. 

Minus the all the bandages, and stitches and ugly blue hospital gown. Her hair fell into her face and Aizawa quickly placed it behind her ear. Cheshire appeared ready to attack Aizawa for touching her but stopped.

Y/n’s gaze held no fear, no panic. She looked calm. Aizawa glanced at Cheshire in confusion. The grinning cat just disappeared again. 

“How did all those people die?” Aizawa asked. An emotionless look came over the girls face. 

“Bad people, bad people get bad ends. I gave bad ends.” The girl replied her voice cold and distant. A look of shock took over his face as she spoke. 

No, there was no way she had done all that Aizawa thought. The carnage that occurred at the facility was too horrific for a child to cause. Aizawa focused on how she called them bad people.

“How were they bad people?” Aizawa pondered. The girl merely looked up at him with a small smile and cold eyes. Aizawa felt a chill run up his back. The hospital room became quiet. Her eyes now cold cause fear to strike in Aizawa. They didn’t make the sweet face she had. 

“How about your parents?” Aizawa questioned. All the thoughts were going through his head. Maybe she didn’t have any. Maybe her parents were dead. Maybe she was an orphan.

“Gone.” The girls voice was quiet and soft. The coldness in her eyes disappeared as quickly as it came. Her eyes were filled with a sadness like Aizawa had never seen. Her lip wobbled a little and tears pricked her eyes. 

“Siblings?” Aizawa mumbled his tone soft and comforting. The girl’s lip wobbled even more and her left hand shook. Tears began to fall freely from her face.

“Gone….” Y/n replied softly. Aizawa moved towards her with a small smile. He gently grabbed her hand. Again Cheshire came to attack but paused. Cheshire tilted his head and sat in the top of her hospital bed intrigued.

“What do you mean gone?” Aizawa asked. 

“They’re just gone.”

Aizawa merely nodded at her words. He stared at her. Her small fcae filled with an emotionless expression that Aizawa couldn’t place. She stared down at the blanket around her. She looked to the side of her and her eyes lit up once they landed on the tea pot and cups.

With her left hand reached for the tea pot with a big smile. The moment her hand touch the tea pot it shot up into the air. The tea cups floated near her. The tea pot poured itself into her cup.

The tea cup went to her mouth and with a shake hand she took it. She brought the cup to her mouth and took a sip. The tea was warm and sweet. Aizawa watched with an interested stare. Once she was done her body glowed with a soft blue. 

When she was done she softly blew on her arm. The cast dissolved and her arm was healed. She coped her hands and blew on her leg and the same thing happened. Aizawa stared in awe as the tea pot and cups disappeared.

“What in the world is that tea.” Aizawa pondered. The little girl shrugged gently and  cough gently. Aizawa stared at her for a moment. She look so perfect. A warm feeling flooded inside Aizawa. 

A strange urge to protect her. To feed her, cloth her, and keep her happy overtook him. As she stared at her all her could think was all the things he’d to to protect her. As he stared into her face and idea came into his head.

“Hey kid, I think I know what we’re gonna call you.” Aizawa said pushing some of her hair back again. She tilted her head in confusion.

“How about Y/n Aizawa?” Aizawa asked. 

A small smile made its way onto her face. She likes that name. It was nothing like her old name. This one had a nice ring to it. 

“Like it.” She mumbled. Aizawa ruffles her hair and so it was done.

Y/n Aizawa was born.

[sanjoongie]

Duchess of Death!

☠Pairing: Butler! Jung Yunho x Duchess! Reader (f) x Cook! Jung Wooyoung

☠Au: the Duke of death and his maid anime, anime au, noble au

☠Trope: mutual pining, noble/servant

☠Genre: angst, smut

☠️Word Count: 2,136

☠Rating: 18+, MDNI

☠Warnings: the entire sexy body of Jeong Yunho described in various compromising ways, mxm, handjob, mutual masturbation, verbal instruction

☠Summary: cursed as a child to kill anything you touch, you're banished to your family's estate in the country with only your faithful Butler Yunho by your side. He knows of your curse yet does everything in his power to push your limits--just to see your reaction.

☠A/N: To the Ying to my Yang. may we never see eye to eye and always laugh despite of it 🤣🤣 you’re always there to match my level and i never feel more myself than i am with you. We may fight, and sometimes it’s nasty, but I'd like to think that sisters fight the way we do, so that always eases my heart. Please never change, you’re my world, my sun, happy birthday @mejuii

“Yunho!” You call for your butler at the piano. “My oral fixation is acting up again! Fetch me something to suck on.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Yunho bows his head and reaches for his pants.

You watch in horror as he unbuttons them and places both hands by his hips, about to pull down his pants, implying--

“YUNHO!” You screech, covering your eyes with your gloved hands. “Why are you like this?!”

Yunho began to button his pants back up. “Why, because your reactions are so cute, Your Grace,” Yunho chuckled.

“I'll cute you,” You say, a grumble and a warning in your tone, “without the e.”

“Oh no!” Yunho covers his mouth in a mock gasp of horror. “Not my hair, Your Grace, you swore you'd never let me cut it. Or do you mean to say you wonder if I'm cut or not? Do you think that changes the texture on your tongue?”

Your face heats up, embarrassment thrumming through your veins. “No, I did not mean that! Stop with your sexual innuendos.”

Yunho smiles, lips only pulled up at the corners in the slightest, his perfect cupid’s bow  the epitome of temptation. And you will never be able to feel them against yours because of your damn curse.

When you were but a child, a witch had casted a curse on you; anything you touched would die. So you had been banished to this mansion, far from your family, with only your butler as company. It had been hard at first, to be away from your younger brother and sister but soon Yunho was the only family you needed. He eased the ache in your soul. 

“Your Grace, should I prepare the afternoon tea?” Yunho wonders. “Surely you should start utilizing the new chef we hired.”

You perk up at the mention of the new cook but wilt upon realizing you couldn't even thank him properly for the meals he prepared. “No, Yunho, I’ll have my sucker for now.”

“As you will, Your Grace.” Yunho bent at the waist to bow and went to fetch the sweet concoction that would do nothing for your hunger pains.

Wooyoung, unbeknownst to you, is waiting outside the doors in anticipation. When Yunho leaves the sun room and closes the door softly, he shakes his head and Wooyoung’s shoulders fall. All they want is to serve you and you continue to keep them at arm's length--physically as well as emotionally. 

Still, you cannot deny that Yunho has your heart utterly in his grasp. Whether he’s aiding you in moving the plants around to capture the sun best, or he’s tucking a blanket around you when you fall asleep in front of the fireplace, too stubborn to move to your bedroom, he’s your constant. He never leaves your side and you have come to prefer it this way. But it is still torture to know that you will never be able to touch, to kiss, to hug the one you love the most. 

Then one day, a small reprieve is given to you. You had been walking the halls of your mansion, specifically making your way to the wing that held the wonderful pieces of art your family had accumulated over the centuries. They didn’t hold any value or interest to you per say, but it gave you a purpose on this day. 

You scrunch your nose in confusion, tilting your head to follow the complex lines of one particular painting. Your confusion only increases as Yunho pushes into your personal space. In fear, you back up against the wall, palms pressed to the wall. Yunho slams a hand on the wall beside your head and his lip twists into a smirk. 

“If I had known you wished to gaze at something beautiful, I would have volunteered myself, Your Grace.” Yunho speaks in a lilting, low voice and you feel as if you’re being hypnotized by your butler. 

“Yunho!” You squeak, eyes avoiding his own.

Yunho takes the moment to eye you from bottom to top. If you had bothered to meet his gaze, you would have seen the hunger emanating from them. “What I would give to be able to pleasure you with my own hands…Your Grace.” The formality seemed to be added only because of habit. 

You bit down on your lip, the feeling mutual. You breathed quickly, inhaling his dark scent that belonged only to Yunho. “Me too,” you whispered as if you couldn't bear to say it louder. 

You hear pitter-pattering of feet, the screech of the sole of shoes along marble, and finally Wooyoung turns the corner. He braces himself against his thighs as he catches his breath. “....you bastard… Jeong Yunho…starting…without me!”

This causes you to meet Yunho’s eyes finally. His eyes mirror your own, wide and worried. “What is the meaning of this?” You demand.

Yunho backs off, but only slightly. “We should retire to your bed chambers first, Your Grace.” He uses his hand to point the way, bowing to a small degree and waiting for your feet to move. 

You sent a look to Wooyoung, attempting to read his face, but it’s cheerfully blank now. He sends you a winning smile, however, but it only causes you to grumble. The only way you’re finding out what’s going on is by following Yunho’s lead. You’ve been down this road before.

Once in your room, Wooyoung bounced on the balls of his feet while Yunho stood still. “Your Grace, we have figured out a work-around to you not being able to touch me.”

Your eyes flew open in excitement. “You figured out how to break the curse!”

Yunho winces. “Not exactly, Your Grace.”

Wooyoung whistles, seemingly innocent. “We figured out the next best thing!”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at Yunho. 

Wooyoung caught his tongue between his teeth naughtily. “You tell me what to do to Yunho. I’ll be like an extension of your hands.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

Yunho moves into your bubble, practically cutting off your view of Wooyoung. “I can tell you what I’d want to do to you. You would move your hands to my command. If you willed it, Your Grace.”

“Yunho…"

“Please please please!” Wooyoung begs, poking his head around Yunho’s broad body.

You take a step back and wring your hands through your gloves. “I don’t know…”

Yunho places a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder to halt his movements. “It’s fine Wooyoung. I told you she wouldn’t want to see me in a debauched state with your hands on me.”

Your face flames up and you slap your hands to it. The pure and unadulterated image of Wooyoung grasping Yunho’s cock in his hand and Yunho’s head cast backwards in ecstasy cannot be erased from your mind’s eye. 

“Wait…”

“Your Grace?” Yunho cocks his head, always waiting for your command. 

“You should show me. A demonstration is in order,” You order.

Wooyoung gleefully giggles and then he’s zooming to your bed. Yunho sends you one more unreadable look and then he is moving towards your bed as well. He sits against the headrest like he belongs there. Wooyoung raises his eyebrows. “Well?”

Oh, right, you had to instruct Wooyoung. “Ummm… unbutton Yunho’s shirt first.”

Wooyoung clucks his tongue at you. “Tell us how you’d do it, Your Grace.”

“I…I would lean in to take in Yunho’s smell and then unbutton his shirt. Slowly.” How were you going to do this and not end up a puddle on the floor?!

“Ooooh!” Wooyoung leans towards Yunho’s neck and takes a deep breath. “He does smell good.” Wooyoung’s deft fingers pluck at Yunho’s vest and shirt until it’s gaping open for your viewing pleasure. “What next, what next?” Wooyoung looks at you eagerly.

You find yourself climbing onto your bed, legs splaying under your body at the foot of it. Wooyoung unbuttons Yunho’s trousers next and pulls him out. Yunho is already hard and impressively long. 

“I’d torture him. I’d run my hand up and down his shaft for hours, to hear his pretty moans just for me,” You whisper and then you clamp your hands over your mouth.

Wooyoung’s smile couldn't have been more full of teasing. “Your Grace knows exactly what she wants.” Wooyoung wraps his hand around Yunho and strokes him slowly, achingly slow.

Yunho swallows loudly and lets out a devastating moan. It��s exactly like you imagined in your bed, late at night, when you would touch yourself after a hard day of teasing from Yunho. It was exactly what you wanted to hear. 

“Your…Grace…” Yunho attempts to pull himself out of the lust he’s feeling from Wooyoung’s hand. “Please imagine my hands skimming up your legs and playing with your most intimate parts. I want to see my fingers pushing in and out of your sweet hole.”

You press your lips together in nervousness. Could you really touch yourself in front of both Wooyoung and Yunho? Wooyoung jerks his chin, as if to say “get on with it!” and you scowl at him, sticking your tongue childishly at him. Still, you remove your gloves, a wary eye on how far the two men are from you.

You pull your petticoats up, spreading your legs, and let your fingers play along your thighs. They skim and tempt and then finally you reach your mound. You move your hands to your hips to pull down your undergarments but Yunho’s grunt stops you.

“Don’t,” he says hoarsely. “Keep them on.”

You push them to the side instead, wetting your finger along your folds, before pushing one into you. “Wha-what next?”

Wooyoung is biting his lip, tempted by both the pleasure he’s giving Yunho and the picture you’re giving him, fingers inside of yourself. Yunho’s chest is moving up and down quickly, like he can’t catch his breath. “I would bring you to as many orgasms as I could give you,” He growls.

Wooyoung tsks at Yunho this time. “She needs direction, Yunho, not a prediction of your sex life.”

Yunho spares Wooyoung a harsh glare before focusing on you. His eyes follow your fingers and you swear he gains some energy and confidence from it. “I would make you feel every inch of my fingers inside of you.”

It’s your turn to gulp. “Fingers?” You squeak.

Wooyoung grins. “You heard the butler. Better put another finger inside of yourself, Your Grace.”

You groan as you stretch yourself with two fingers. It feels good to do as Yunho says and you get a little excited, pumping your fingers inside of you faster. “So good.”

“Your Grace,” Yunho moans, “Please, can you play with my head?”

“Oh Yunho,” You gasp.

Wooyoung, after a quick nod from you, rolls his palm along the head of Yunho’s cock, causing Yunho to jolt. His hands fist your expensive Italian silk sheets in response. “Your Grace, your hands feel lovely on me. I’m sure they’re soft and small but so good to me.”

“Yun-Yunnie,” You mewl in response. “Need you. Need you so badly.”

“Co-come with me, Your Grace. Let us climax together!” Yunho cries out.

You focus purely on coming from your butler. You thrust your fingers in and out of your sopping hole. You aggressively rub your clit as well, chasing that high that’s just out of the reach. Wooyoung’s fist quickly makes good work of Yunho and soon the two of you are coming together. Yunho’s gravelly groan makes your cunt clench around your fingers and you come with a long, drawn out whine. 

All three of you are panting in need but you are well aware that there is no step after this; this is as far as you can go. Until you break the curse, until you can touch Yunho without killing him, this is the most you can manage.

“We’re doing this again,” Wooyoung, of all people, declares. “I’m going to make us food. You two talk.” And with all the energy of a whirlwind, Wooyoung is gone with the quiet hush of a closed door.

You push your skirts down and Yunho tucks himself back into his pants. “Your Grace? Was that enjoyable for you? Please tell me it pleased you.”

You smiled through unshed tears. “It was wonderful, Yunho.”

“Your Grace.” Yunho’s voice is hoarse. He reaches out but lets his hand fall before he can touch you. “We will break this curse. I will marry you and we will be together in every way we’ve always dreamed.”

“I hope so Yunho, I truly do,” You sob.

The two of you sit there, embracing each other with your eyes only, for that’s all you can do. Until Yunho suggests that he touch himself again to get you to stop crying. That is when you choke out a laugh and throw a pillow at him. And all is well in the household of the duchess of death and her butler. 

[otomiyaa]

Day 7: Bells

Baek x Seo | 12 days of tickles🎄

Word Count: 800

Christmas Props.

Christmas Deco.

Christmas Things.

Christmas Shoot.

"...How can you even navigate in all this. I had no idea we had all that stuff down here," Seo said, sniffing as he tried to hold back a sneeze. He looked at all the dusty storage boxes with 'Christmas' - something written on them.

"Well, it's the once-a-year thing right, to have Christmas themed photoshoots. It's just that every year people forget we already have all this, and new things are added unnecessarily. Here," Baek said, handing him one of the boxes so he could find some of the better stuff for this afternoon's shoot.

"Uh, let's see. So there's the reindeer hat, why do we have this? These red and green ribbons we could use I think and-"

Jingle jingle.

Seo stopped searching and looked up when he heard the funny bell sound.

"Sleigh bells. I love these things," Baek said, jingling the sleigh bells he held in his hand. Beside him stood a box labeled: Christmas bells.

Seo sighed. "They don't look fitting for the shoot," he said. The sound was pretty but the sleigh bells themselves looked hideous.

Baek nodded. "They never were. It was a bit of a waste. But I still like them." He handed Seo some bells as well and he smirked.

"What're you smirking for?" Seo asked, glaring.

"Come on. Jingle them."

Baek Youngchan was officially crazy. Well, he always had been and Seo Hyunsoo was still his lover, but still...

"No."

Stepping closer, Baek gave him a seductive smile that made Seo think that if they weren't careful, they'd soon be literally fucking around this office storage. A dangerous thing to do when they could save it for at home.

He took a step back.

"Don't be ridiculous. We have work to do."

"Come on, don't be like this. Give it one jingle. For me?"

"But why?"

"Because you'd look so cute."

Seo blushed and slammed the sleigh bells against Baek's hard chest. "If you don't stop fu-hehehe hehehey what're you- nohoho!" To his horror, Baek Youngchan started tickling him, and he staggered backwards.

When he realized the bells in his hand were jingling during his struggle, he dropped them in protest, but this only made Baek an even worse tickle monster.

"Oh how dare you," Baek giggled, trapping him by wrapping his strong arms around Seo's torso and attacking his poor sides, ribs and stomach with merciless tickles, using merely one hand. In his other hand, Baek still held the sleigh bells which jingled with how much Seo was struggling against him.

"AHahahaha you're beheehing crahahazy right nohohow!"

"Sorry, didn't catch that~" Baek sang. The evil...! Seo blushed in embarrassment and squealed hysterically. His sensitive body suffered from Baek's merciless tickle attack and his hysterical sounds of laughter mixed with the annoying sound of the Christmas bells.

He desperately tried to break free, but Baek refused to let him go. When finally he dropped those ridiculous bells, Seo barely had a moment to feel relieved. It meant that Baek now used both hands to absolutely wreck him with.

"Nohoho stohohop!" he whined, sinking through his knees. That awful jingling sound was soon heard again when he landed on top of he sleigh bells and squirmed like a fool around with those cursed things underneath him.

"Hehehe," Baek giggled along. "You are the cutest," he said, making Seo blush even more.

"I s-swehehear I'll -!"

As sudden as it started, the tickling stopped and they both stared at each other in shock when the sound of someone entering the storage could be heard.

"Is... everything alright in here?"

It was the voice of one of their newest and youngest trainees. "Yes. Everything is fine," Baek said with confidence. Did he not feel any shame? The trainee didn't walk around the shelves to see them sprawled on the floor like this, thank god, and merely responded with: "T-that's good."

They heard him grab something he needed and then they were alone again without even needing to explain themselves and why they were laughing so much...

".....I can't believe you," Seo hissed. Baek chuckled and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"I can't believe you either." He helped him back on his feet and picked up the things they had dropped in their struggle. He finally picked up the sleigh bells as well.

"What are you doing?" Seo asked when Baek gathered the bells in his arms together with some of the ribbons and other decorations they came to find. Baek shrugged.

"Even if they're not pretty, these bells give a cute sound. They can help set the mood for the photoshoot. Right?"

Seo rolled his eyes. "You and your stupid bell-SAha!" That earned him a quick tickle in his side, and with bright red cheeks he stomped after Baek who was carrying all of the stuff to their office.

Working together with his boyfriend was both a gift and a curse, and he was so going to make him pay for all this when they were back home...!

[ms0milk]

𝟏 | 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"The prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too."

no cw big time fairytale castle, blunt bkg & silly co. reader's a lil stiff bc character arcs aren't built in a day, let the slowburn begin. i am not immune to aizawa in any universe. author does not attempt to hide how very badly she wants to ******* *** **** bkg's mama. 3.8k

PREV | M.LIST | TAGLIST | NEXT

Waking up is so peaceful this morning. Gentle and warm.

"..…"

That sweet kind of rise between waking and dreaming, where you’re able to say goodbye to your dreams and the people in them with a tip of your hat and wave goodbye. Forgiving and patient.

“..Y/n…”

The queen was in your dreams tonight. And you were in your hometown– you’re there now. The fields are golden and heavy before autumn harvest and your neighbors have no need for locks on their doors. She is beautiful today, and she is your sister, your mother, your Lady when you try to look past the sun’s rays to her face. Up, up, up into her eyes, why can’t you find what you’re looking for? Higher and higher until it’s the stars you’re on your knees for.

“Y/n.”

You jolt at the sudden sensation of falling with a quick and panicked grip on your pillow but you’re back in your room, stuffed mattress and all. Every part of your body is grounded to woolen blankets and the weight at your feet. Someone laughs at the foot of your bed when you sigh in relief and you jump again, because this time it’s the queen.

“I’m sorry to wake you.” She smiles behind her hand. You’re staring. And then it’s been a second too long before you gather yourself like a member of the castle with some respect and make a move to stand for formal greetings. But you only get as far as sitting up when she stiffs her palm to your forehead. “Stay.”

From your spot still tucked in bed you muster a, “Yes, your Majesty.”

The queen’s hair is wild and silvery by the light of a candle she holds at her chest. The only light in the room. Heavy fur cape clasps fit neatly into the bodice of her nightgown– gown almost isn't the right word. You love her. There isn’t a citizen alive that doesn’t love her, “I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“Anything, Majesty.”

What time is it? Your curtain is drawn, but still there doesn’t seem to be any morning light trying to peek through.

“My son’s been invited east to celebrate a new observatory.” The queen pulls a once-neatly-wrapped envelope from her pocket, “The end of some momentous constructional undertaking or another,” she laughs. She extends her hand to you and smiles at just how dumbstruck you still seem to be by candlelight, “I’m sorry it’s so early.”

“Not at all.” You move too quickly and too slowly somehow– you curse yourself– while taking it from her, and regret what a silly child you must look like the way she has you perched against your pillows.

“I just received word from a Takoban messenger. A letter from their queen.” You nod, turn the letter over in your hands until it falls open. “He’s leaving today and I would very much like you to accompany him.”

Your apartments on Castle Southside are suddenly less like one modest room and more like the very stables you live above, wholly unfit for her. She’s still smiling at you. You’re still tucked-in. “Majesty, me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not. But wouldn’t– shouldn’t Master Jeanist go?”

“Jeanist stays with me.” And you realize in horror– too many emotions for one woman to manifest only minutes after waking up– that you implied the queen may have made a mistake. “Don’t apologize,” she catches you before you can open your sleep-addled mouth again, “Captain of the Guard stays here. But you’ve trained with Jeanist for years Y/n, you’ll be my son’s captain soon.” She scoots closer to you. She takes your hand, “Can I trust you with this mission?”

It's fuzzy, hearth warmth and happiness when she uses your name, “With anything.”

Queen Mitsuki handed over one more letter before leaving you to prepare for your morning. Just a thank you card, she’d said. For you to deliver to the eastern queen, the Queen of Takoba.

As long as she asks you might do anything, although spending the most time with Jeanist meant nothing by way of his successor. The next monarch will choose his own captain. Spending the most time with Jeanist only means that you haven't given great priority to making your own friends.

The click of your heels down the stone hallway line up with another’s as you round the corner to your station. A tree today. Trees and wildlife grow freely in the Bakugous’ Aldera Castle and make the palace warm even in the grip of winter. Knobbly trunks and grasping vines twist in and out of windows, fruit rolls down the halls in fall. Squirrels and birds get in so regularly that members of the guard each have one shift a week exclusively for hoisting the creatures back out.

Fresh air is never far away. In the springtime you are all tasked with sweeping blossoms off the castle floors before they wither or trip a staff, and from the very second the first magnolia blooms in March you’re swimming in flowers til June.

Jeanist stands under the lichen of Castle Southside’s oak tree when you arrive, and the soldier he was speaking to has already strode away. Tall, black hair.

The oak tree is four stories tall to have arms reaching this far inside and is older than any historian could recall. It is precious family. It reaches up and over the banister at the edge of the hallway and dips down into the library like a leafy chandelier, causing much headache in autumn when Aldera's tallest ladder is procured for the poor novice whose job it is to clean the books underneath.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

“Sir.”

Jeanist only smiles under the high collar of his red uniform. You rarely get the chance to stand beside your mentor anymore, now that the prince needs only a senior guard on diplomatic errands. Your uniforms were meant to stand together just like this– warm next to each other. Yours are the only two of their kind and your mentor made these himself, blood red gambeson and white bone clasps. You assume your position beside the tree and stare dead ahead, happy, if only for a second, if only on the inside, to belong once again to this group of two.

“Y/n?”

“Sir.” You don’t break eye contact with the far wall. Dawn is dim on the fifth floor of Southside. All you have here to entertain yourself is a tapestry you’ve memorized every stitch of, until another soldier comes to relieve you.

“Did you speak with the Queen?”

“Yes, sir. Early this morning.”

“Earlier than dawn?” Jeanist chuckles and turns to gaze out the window through the ancient knots of the oak tree. The sun crests the mountains somewhere farther than you’ve ever traveled and spills into the folds of his uniform. It warms the back of your head. “What did you tell her?”

“That I would be honored to comply with Her Majesty's request.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Privileged, sir.”

“Y/n." Your eyes tug at your periphery, confused by the general chattiness of the old guard this morning, “I’m proud of you.”

Your head turns fully at this, in surprise and without your permission, and you realize it hasn’t yet struck you to ask why he’s at your post in the first place.

“Go on.” He’s looking at you too now, as he has been the whole time, “They’ll leave without you at this rate.”

You stare for another two seconds at this strange mentor of yours. You try to keep your heart from spilling onto the floor is actually what you do; it’s all you can manage. “Yes, sir.”

If anything you’ll be the first of the entire party to arrive in the Great Hall, but you still let Jeanist assume your position and even turn in surprise again when he rests a hand on your shoulder. He taps one of your small earrings with a gentle finger and with his other hand unclasps the dragontooth brooch from his breast.

“How long did you stare when the queen spoke with you this morning?”

Ears go hot immediately under his knowing gaze, but he only smiles. He pulls your hand forward and rests the dragontooth in your palm with an amount of pressure that can only mean, be careful. And so you will, you determine, and turn to make your way to collect your things.

“Word of advice!” In a neverending morning of spinning, you drag your foot and face him again. Jeanist is nearly laughing and trying very well to hide his worry, “If you stare at the prince the way you have the tendency to do, he might just take your head off.”

He doesn’t get to see you smile often, but it does feel fitting now for you to nod your goodbye to him with the look of yours he loves so much, “He might try, sir."

It didn’t take more than a few months in the castle, at six years old, for the prince to rectify his opinion of you. To clarify his disdain in the event that his mother’s favoritism towards the orphan gave anyone the wrong idea about his own priorities. You could hardly say it mattered. Hundreds of new faces fill the castle every year and he had forgotten yours just as quickly as you had been whisked into Jeanist’s care to begin your training and earn your keep.

Today your satchel is packed, your hair’s braided back, and the prince thinks no more or less of you than he always has. Indifference will make your job easy.

The whole sprawling maze of stone buildings warm in the morning sun as you make your way to Castle Northside, although autumn is here and soon heavy curtains will need to be draped over windows and trees. Soon too, it’ll be time to sweep fallen leaves out of the hallway and collect ripe peaches from the branches of the western stairwell. You’ll need to have your winter uniform cleaned when you return so the white fur of the collar glows, because when the queen happens to see you on duty she always remarks on how well you care for her colors.

Even your earrings– tiny suns, gold and dangling– represent your love for Aldera down to the smallest detail. They were a gift, and you swell when her eyes jump from one carefully polished detail on your body to the next. To Jeanist, she is personification of meticulous craft. You know that’s why he loves her. Each hulking winter cape in her collection drops her into the background of some priceless painting or ethereal scene and for this reason alone, winter is your favorite season.

Sometimes in cold weather, when she sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, Her Majesty wears battle gauntlets to stay warm and is altogether too Alderan in delicate furs and armored gloves.

It is just at this moment of routine admiration that, out of an auxiliary hallway to the kitchen, saunters a tall boy you’ve never seen before wearing the white soldier’s greaves. He's hardly dressed, greaves aside, all loose undershirt and lazy stride. He knows your name and he calls to you as he approaches.

“Yes soldier?”

His limbs are knobbly and his mouth hitches uncomfortably upwards when he finally gets close enough to you to speak, “Hanta ma'am, Sero Hanta.” Tall and disrespectful. “Master Jeanist sent me to fetch your halberd from the smithy but when I came back–”

“I don’t keep my halberd in the smithy.”

He shifts his weight between two legs too long for his greaves like he has somewhere else to be, “Whoever’s it is, Kirishima has it now and we’ve all been searching Southside like madmen trying to fin–”

“Who–” You shake your head and turn to face him fully now, “Why does the master–”

“Sero! Oh my everloving gods you found her!” Another boy, quite blond, scrambles out of a different hallway– oh, he’s tripping on the decorative runner– out of breath to the soldier’s side. “Kirishima–”

“You found her!” One last voice shrills over the banister of the hallway above. This one belongs to a lithe pink girl and she hops the last five stairs to land at your side, “Don’t you look nice today Miss Guard.”

“Excuse me?”

She addresses her companions instead, “Where’s Kirishima?”

You have half a mind to take the closest person by the arm and hold them for questioning. How have they gotten so far into the center of the castle unaccompanied? To whom do they belong? “Identify yourselves.”

“No time for that,” Soldier Sero snaps and links a hand under each of his companions’ arms, “We’ll parse out introductions once we’re not all about to be hanged.” Without direction or permission, the three of them are down the last stretch of hall quicker than north wind through bare branches and great iron doors scream open.

You’ve walked the Hall ten thousand times and so the gold trim, the fireplace and both it's stories, the sappy scent of pine, and the rows of tables long enough to seat whole families of dragons, only bring tears to your eyes on occasion. The floor is cobbled with river stones that catch fruit and nuts in their grooves but glow a molten-glass purple when the sun comes in through windows. It gets warm, too warm, when it’s full of staff at mealtimes so you take your dinners elsewhere. It’s too stuffy. You’ve never managed large crowds in tight spaces so times like these are precious, when it’s empty before breakfast and still clean from the night's housekeeping.

Except it’s not empty now, is it? There are three fools and two brand new strangers loitering in front of the fireplace at the other end of the room, just waiting for you to call for reinforcements. Sero begins to take off his pants–

“Soldier!” You shout down the Hall almost as quickly as you cross it.

“Good morning,” an altogether new voice pools between your exclamations.

Of the five people in the empty room, two of them obviously belong someplace very far away. Somewhere unkind. Blue tunics and windswept hair. You slow your warpath and try to take in the details of the two new men that Aldera's three fugitives have approached without an ounce of concern or respect for personal space.

The younger of the pair repels hair ruffles and claps on the shoulder from your three trespassers while the taller man, worn and travel-sallow, peers over the bustle to you.

His eye contact doesn't match the way he holds his exhausted body. It is this one part of him that threatens, surely only in your own tired mind, sudden and practiced violence. You move closer.

“I am Master Aizawa."

When he blinks the threat vanishes and you buckle a bit in the whiplash from danger to gentle authority. You are unarmed for a second– suddenly a schoolgirl again, pitied by her teacher in a classroom full of people who haven't learned to talk to child soldiers.

"Your party will be under my protection and instruction beginning today.” Disarming eye contact aside, Master Aizawa, this fourth stranger of the morning, looks as if he could barely be trusted to remain upright on a sunny day, let alone manage other people. “This young man is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he tips his chin to the boy trying to stand tall beside him, still speaking only to you over the chittering crowd, “my apprentice and your second in command.”

Windswept, violent, exhausted, trespassers, guests, useful, useless– these people do not matter. You are meant to be waiting for the prince and his convoy not chasing strangers in circles around the castle, when a much worse thought comes clear to center focus. In your rush this morning it hadn’t occurred to you that this group of people might share your objective. The iron doors grunt open again in your confusion but louder than the doors are the people walking through them.

“Oh amazing, you found her!”

“I could hear you horrible fucks all the way from the courtyard.”

Your blood doesn’t rush properly for a second most likely because your heart has stopped pumping it out. The prince. You square your body to the back wall immediately and bow with fists at your side, trying to bury the incorrigible urge to stare.

Even from half a Hall away it is palpable, the tremendous confidence that swells to every corner of a room when he enters. He wears an Alderan vest lined with furs and you know the clasps at his neck are gold because the queen wouldn’t settle for less. The red cape they grip sweeps in an arc as he navigates tables, and walking duly tall beside him is the prince's champion, Kirishima, who holds a polearm in one hand while waving to the group with the other.

The two familiar faces put you at a strange kind of ease. Kirishima is a joyful addition to the castle, always smiles for staff in passing, and the prince– the prince is taller now. It’s been years since you’ve stood near him properly. Castle staff are meant to bow their heads when a royal approaches. You’re fairly familiar with the details of his boots but not much else.

“Good morning, Highness,” Master Aizawa is the first to reply and his voice simmers just above a growl. You raise your head so that you’re standing tall when the prince finishes his march to the group but you’re too practiced in looking away to keep your eyes up for long.

“Long time no see old man.”

“Ready?”

“Let’s get this over with.” The prince doesn’t offer you a glance, not even a blink, before he’s tossing a rucksack from the man’s outstretched arm over his shoulder.

Soldier Sero calls after him, “You clean up nice,” and lifts his arm to give the prince a playful swat, but you’re already holding his wrist behind his back and he’s standing on tall tippy toes to keep the pressure in his knobby elbow from breaking it. The prince squares himself to the yelping and now he’s looking at you.

“S-sorry Y/n! Friendly fire.”

You drop Sero’s arm and try to speak– it's your only chance for appropriate introduction– but the prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too. His coalfire gaze is quick and flickering. Like he hopes to avoid looking at you altogether. You try to speak even less successfully than the last time, to wet your lips, try to make a sound, but he’s already rolling his eyes and ushering the two blue guards towards the door.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. The rest of you, hurry up.”

They do. The prince, two escorts, and three guests are back out the iron doors without so much as a greeting, explanation, or itinerary. You stand next to the cold fireplace, still half bowed in greeting.

As the Great Hall stills, empty now except for Kirishima, the redhead sidles closer in the quiet. He watches you excitedly, as you exhale and adjust the travel bag at your hip, eager to present you with the weapon he’s been carrying.

“Mornin’, I think this is from Jeanist?" He chirps and twitters with a smile and precisely no clue what it is he’s handed to you. He’s straightforward and confident and warm.

It’s been a long time since a day so new has been so active. Since dawn, nothing but one heart palpitation after the next. One pair of red eyes to the next. The prince’s red burns your vision like sunspots, Aizawa's turn grapes to wine, but Kirishima’s is patient. You’re slow to remove your gloves before handling the weapon and take it from the champion who vibrates in the new quiet. He is not particularly good at standing still.

Shifting in your hands is a halberd. Its balance is even and it’s not the cherrywood weapon you’re familiar with, the one that’s hopefully still hanging up in its slot in the Keep. This weapon is a deep blood red from shaft to socket. You nod your head without taking your eyes off the shimmer of the metal polished so fine it's turned white, and on any other day there might be tears in your eyes.

Kirishima is still smiling as you fiddle with the rivets, “You have lovely taste, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s not mine,” you whisper, because it’s Master Jeanist’s.

Outside of the castle gates, a particularly dazzling blue carriage is waiting, pulled by a team of white horses. You squint at the three fools wrestling with each other next to a quilted door of the most delicate vehicle you’ve ever seen. Like something out of a storybook, like something built by fairies. The prince tiffs with a less-than-interested Master Aizawa in the grass a ways off and taps his foot angrily just like his mother.

“Are you the Alderan escort?” Shinsou, the spitting image of apathy, appears between you and Kirishima as you trek the stone path to join the party. He hands you each a sizable knapsack.

You nod, “Y/n, apprentice to Captain Jeanist.”

“The one and only?”

“Captain?”

“No, the only apprentice,” Shinsou corrects and smiling eyes betray his disinterest, “I’ve heard stories. It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise,” you murmur as he leaves you with a bag in both hands, and strides back to the crowd to help load luggage. The champion is long gone and mingling with friends and so you’re alone again, left to fiddle at a distance with your halberd and the leather sling used to carry it on your back.

When you gaze back over the group from afar, it does seem that everyone but you already quite likes one another, and it probably feels that way because it’s true. They know each other somehow and you are the only stranger. A foreigner at the front gates of your home.

Next to the stack of luggage, Sero opens the door for his two friends and you must watch them all curtsy before trying to wrestle each other inside. Shinsou catches the blond when he trips backwards on the single carriage step, Sero is finally wearing pants that fit him, black and pleated, and the prince is now stamping his foot on the ground in conversation with the most unfazed man you’ve ever met. Master Aizawa, you suppose, from Takoba.

Behind you the warm castle whistles with wind and morning activity. Your home. In front of you the pink-haired girl blows kisses to imaginary admirers and Kirishima hoists the prince into the carriage by force. It hasn’t been more than an hour and it is already good, true, and apparent that this caravan will have your full attention or else start a war.

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could not tag for some reason

[freetobeeyouandme]

No new chapter of the Byler Isekai Fantasy AU today because I need way longer for edits than I thought, plus I think I just really need to overthink my posting schedule, BUT in the meantime I'd like to inform you that I already have a long, multichaptered Byler Fantasy AU complete up on Ao3. Just in case you didn't know yet and want something similar to tide you over until I get around to posting again next week.

Through A Dark Glass, Wanting

90k | Rated M | Fantasy AU, D&D inspired AU, Canon Typical Horror, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Suicidal Ideation, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Will Byers is so loved if he only accepted it, Will keeps making bad decisions bear with him

When a dark corruption spreads from the Deep Woods north of the kingdom of Roane, it falls to Will and his friends to investigate the cause. But as they close in on what seems to be the inevitable final confrontation with the Mad Wizard they have been fighting for years, Will finds his magic failing him as the darkness that scarred him during his first encounter with that very man finally overtakes him. Will stands no chance at stopping the demons that have been haunting him – after all how can he fight for a happy ending when he doesn’t believe he deserves one? - Or, Will learns to accept that his friends love him a whole lot more than he thinks they should.

I wrote this one during last year's Byler Big Bang, so it has a lot of wonderful art by the extremely talented @katimanki, and since I really enjoyed working on it I want to give it some love today (also because the next BBB is just around the corner - yay!). I'll definitely be back with the next chapter of the Isekai AU next week, but also be warned that I'm probably going to stick to a three week posting schedule for the last couple of chapters. I very much over/underestimated how long this bad boy would be and how much time I would be able to spend on it, so while I don't like it, it is now what it is.

An excerpt and my usual taglist below (since I'm assuming you might be interested in another fantasy AU as well)

Chapter 1: The Inn at the End of the World

Will spends dinner staring at the dark clouds obscuring the woods less than a days ride away from the inn. Night has already begun falling around them, but the clouds hovering over the trees almost glow a little in the dark, as if to make sure he remembers that they are there. Inside of the clouds he can see the tree tops and dark spots of creatures flying. General consensus is that the Deep Woods are a dead place, but he knows that’s not true. Whatever the shadow touches doesn’t die. It just wishes it had.

An elbow hits him in the ribs, for the second time in as many minutes. It’s only on the second time, though, that he realizes the elbow is intentional – for once this evening.

“Byers, you gonna finish that or not?” Dustin says, wiping his mouth while also eyeing the bread on Will’s plate.

Will wordlessly pushes his plate – the only plate on the table that isn’t completely blank – over to his friend.

Immediately he feels Mike’s knee knock into his, and silently curses the inn for being so packed that they had to squeeze four of them onto a bench made for three. Even with Lucas hanging half off it, leaning over to chat with Max, it’s a tight fit. Too tight. And Dustin’s elbow is nothing compared to Mike’s…well, Mike’s everything.

He can feels Mike’s hot breath on his cheek when he speaks. “Are you okay?”

Will puts on a practiced smile. “I’m fine,” he reassures his best friend. He nods at the window behind Mike’s head. “Just not really feeling hungry right now.”

Mike follows his gaze and sighs. “Just make sure to have breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. We need our strength.”

Mike returns Will’s eye roll with a tight smile.

Will grabs the half eaten chicken leg from his plate and takes a tentative bite to appease him. Mike, apparently satisfied that Will’s not gonna drop dead of starvation before they even set foot in the woods, turns back to whatever conversation he was having with El on his other side. Will drops the chicken again and grabs a napkin instead.

Dustin pushes the now more empty plate towards the middle of the table. He has eaten maybe half of what Will had left over, leaving the chicken leg and the harder parts of the bread.

He pats his stomach. “Tiamat’s Third head, I’m full.”

“That’s still not gonna catch on,” Will tells him.

Dustin gives him the finger. Then he belches.

Will decidedly turns his nose out of the path, staring instead at the crowd around them. The inn, a small affair just on the border between the Duchy of Hawkins and the impenetrable Deep Woods, is teeming with people. At first Mike had been worried they wouldn’t even get rooms, but that was the one thing The Aleful Dragon had not been short of. They could each have gotten their own, but instead they’d gone for their usual three: One double for the girls, two for the boys. Officially.

Will eyes the tankard in front of Dustin, silently hoping it will stay at that one but knowing that since this is their last proper night in civilization, it won’t. And unfortunately, unlike Mike, Dustin snored when he was drunk.

The innkeeper’s son comes to clear away their table, shyly ducking his head as he does so. In his eyes there is the recognition that had become more and more common over the past two years. This is the Prince of Hearts, Slayer of the Thessalian Hydra and Scourge of the Mad Wizard. This is no ordinary band of would-be heroes at his table.

To everyone’s surprise, it is Dustin whom he addresses when he brings them the round of beers they order as he clears the table.

“You are Dustin the Bold, right?” When Dustin nods he swallows and asks in a quiet voice: “Would you mind if I asked my mother if you could play tonight? We have our house musicians, but…”

Dustin’s grin is wolfish. “Do I ever mind that, my young friend? Tell her I will play all night if she only keeps the beer coming.”

Will doesn’t bother pointing out that the innkeeper's son seems to be a few years older than them, actually. Dustin’s flame is lit and he doesn’t think their bard will hear much tonight that doesn’t pertain to song requests.

The young man runs off happily to tell his mother the news, and sure enough she herself comes to their table to negotiate the deal. It’s a standard contract as far as the work of a bard goes: The drink will be on the house for him and his companions. The rooms they still have to pay for.

It means hell for Will’s ears, but he supposes he can always go to bed early, perhaps be deeply asleep by the time the snoring starts. Considering how long Dustin plans on playing and drinking, he might do that anyway.

Dustin gets up as the innkeeper heads back to the bar. He makes a big show of having to get out of the booth, shooing Lucas and Max into a frenzy. That still doesn’t seem fast enough because he just climbs up on the table to leave it in the end. It’s either some eerie talent or everyone else’s quick reflexes that mean he doesn’t spill any ale as he crosses.

“Sir Michael, my lute if you please?”

Mike looks up at him, rolling his eyes. “Get your dirty boots of the table, Dustin.”

Dustin lifts his chin in defiance. “My lute, I said.”

Will sees how they had been identified in this nowhere inn despite their plain clothes. Even in a simple tunic, visibly mended here and there where it had gotten ripped and torn in previous battles, Dustin strikes an imposing figure. The lute that is leaning against the wall beside their booth could be the prized possession of a simple minstrel, but the confident set of Dustin’s shoulders and the glimmer of knowledge in his eyes identify him clearly as a Bard of the Conclave. Take then his companions and even the people who had not seen Mike’s crown-and-heart shield as they carried their things upstairs were sure to know who was drinking among them.

Mike shakes his head and wordlessly hands over the richly painted instrument.

@smalltownwheeler @wheelerpilled @wrong-energy @foodiewithdahoodie @doggozzy @gardenfairie @beelikesbirds @beverlysclown @yickarus @sourdough-el @hessolivagant @hesquietoday @oldfashionedmorphine @total-serene560 @bylersrise @hawkinsunderground @generalstorecashier @snixx @camel-casing @bylersbear01 @turningsoft @casatoan @maru-chu @mid13s @goldentrunks @bunnybylerfangirl @willbyersenthusiast @letterstomichelangelo @drowninginideas @fluffyfangirl @artsyna @absolutelynotyouidiot @bymarara @unknowmiau @are-you-reddie @elherself134 @longtallglasses @kennahjune @easilyentertained99 @bylerschapter @father-imperator @bylerina

[heyitsjess-writes]

Death Didn’t Seem Quite so Bad a Fate

Astarion x m!Tav

Word count: 3,591 Rating: T

Sequel - You Brought my Dead Heart Back to Life Warnings: Major character death, it's temporary though, depictions of violence and blood, mild cursing, angst Summary: Death was not a new concept for Astarion. When you’re a vampire spawn and you’ve just helped stopped the world from being dominated by a Netherbrain you have both seen and experienced your fair share of death. Death didn’t seem quite so bad a fate when you have a mysterious, undead being freeloading at your camp. Who, for just a small fee, would resurrect any companion you asked for, no questions asked.

Death was not a new concept for Astarion. When you’re a vampire spawn and you’ve just helped stopped the world from being dominated by a Netherbrain you have both seen and experienced your fair share of death. Death didn’t seem quite so bad a fate when you have a mysterious, undead being freeloading at your camp. Who, for just a small fee, would resurrect any companion you asked for, no questions asked. Or if your lover happened to be a cleric who could bring you back as soon as the battle is over. That worked just as well, too. No, death didn’t seem that bad at all when you had those options in your back pocket. Except now, the Netherbrain had been defeated and their small band of friends and allies had all gone their separate ways to continue on their own adventures. Leaving Astarion and Tav alone to begin their own, together.

Now death was suddenly a very real and very terrifying concept.

-----------------

Shaking, blood covered hands desperately clawed at Tav’s armor, trying to remove it to get to the source of the bleeding. A neck wound was a lovely thing, Astarion mused, when it was caused by him during quiet moments of intimacy. But now, as the clatter of heavy armor being tossed aside filled his ears, the wound on his love’s neck was the last thing he wanted to see. He pressed his hands firmly against the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. Words started coming out of his mouth, unbidden. Words of comfort, gentle menstruations, telling Tav that everything was fine. The bleeding would slow down, they’d get him all patched up and they could go home. They would come back and look for the ring another day. It was all lies, of course. Pretty lies that he refused to admit. The wound was too deep and too close to the carotid artery. Astarion felt the blood gushing around his fingers, causing his hands to slip as he tried to keep the wound covered as blood pooled on the ground. He heard his love’s labored breathing start to become wet and blood began speckling his lips. Tav’s eyes found Astarion’s, once bright and full of life now glazed and fevered as his life slipped away. Tav’s lips moved, as if he was trying to say something but no sound came. Astarion watched in silent horror as Tav’s eyes lost focus, the last speck of life dimming as his head rolled to the side, body becoming limp under his hands.

A broken scream filled the air as Tav exhaled his final breath.

-----------------

“Is that what you want? Is this what you want? I would understand if you wanted to go your own way,” Astarion asked Tav. The two of them stood in the room Tav still had rented out in the Elfsong Tavern. The Netherbrain had been defeated only a few days prior and the citizens of Baldur’s Gate were still picking up the pieces after their lives were nearly ended by mind flayers and cultists alike.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains as Astarion waited for his partner to answer. The two had met up to talk about their future. What was next for them now that the world wasn’t in immediate peril. They had met under extenuating circumstances, grown closer together through shared trials. Now that the world didn’t need them to travel together Astarion needed to know where they stood, so he asked as much. What was next for the two of them? Tav offered to help look for a way to let Astarion walk in the sun again. To go on another adventure together as partners, equals. There was nothing Astarion wanted more than to stay with him, but he needed to make sure that staying with him is what Tav truly wanted. That he wasn’t staying with him out of some sort of obligation. With the tadpoles gone, Astarion belonged to the shadows once more. He would understand if Tav didn’t want to live that life. Being stuck roaming the streets in the dark of night just because his partner could no longer walk in the light of day.

“No, this is what I want,” Tav replied, a soft smile on his face, holding a hand out. Astarion sighed, letting out the breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding.

“Good, because selfless as I am, I really did not want you let you go,” he said, accepting Tav’s hand, pulling himself forward and wrapping his arms around Tav’s waist. “We are rather excellent together, you know. And united, there is nothing we can’t do. I can’t say what the future holds for us, but I know we’ll be facing it together. And we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

And they did have fun. Amidst all the reading and researching, the traveling and socializing with strangers who know a thing or two about rare artifacts. To following any lead they had, no matter how small, or if it led to a dead end. To the quiet, lazy mornings where they were wrapped in each other’s arms, fingers ghosting across bare skin, soft whispers of love and adoration being the only thing to break the silence. To the long nights full of raw passion, the desire to know and feel each other in the most intimate and sacred ways possible. To be connected body and soul in each other’s embrace and satisfy each other in ways only the other knew how. To simply walking hand-in-hand through the night as they traveled from one town to the next. It was all fun to Astarion. It was new, exciting, something he had never dared to dream about when he was under Cazador’s control. But here he was, free, traveling the world with the first person he has truly cared for. The first person who he has truly loved and who, by some miracle, loved him back. Even if all of their adventuring never bore fruit, if they never found a way to help him walk in the sun again, he wouldn’t trade any of it away for the world.

-----------------

Weeks of adventuring turned into months, months turned into years and they were not any closer to finding an artifact that would let Astarion walk in the sun. Once, they had been on the trail of a very promising artifact, the Cloak of Dragomir. It was last known to be in the possession of a vampire named Hexxat but the leads quickly went cold. It was almost as if she had simply vanished into thin air. Astarion didn’t mind though, while the cloak would have been nice it would not have been the same. He wanted to be able to stand out in the sun, arms stretched wide and soak in the rays as they danced across his skin. The same way he did the morning after his first night with Tav. A cloak would not have allowed him to do that. Astarion expressed as much in bed one morning, after the leads went cold for the cloak and Hexxat alike. Head resting on Tav’s chest as he laced his fingers with his partner’s, holding his hand.

“What kind of artifact are you hoping to find?” Tav asked, fingers from this other hand carding through the Astarion’s hair.

Astarion hummed, “Well, if I can get anything I want. How about a ring?”

The elf felt Tav move under him, raising his head a little to look at him. “A ring?”

“Yes, all these years together and you haven’t offered me a single one. I’m slightly offended you know, I thought that you would have tried to propose to me at least once by now Darling,” Astarion said, mock offense in his voice. “If the only way to get you to give me a ring is to have it be magical, then I’ll take it.”

Tav laughed, his chest rumbling underneath Astarion, “Alright Love, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good,” Astarion replied, shifting so he could be face to face with Tav, kissing him.

When Astarion had told Tav he wanted a magical ring to be able to walk in the sun, he hadn’t expected the man to actually find a lead.

“The Ring of the Sun-Walker. It’s said to look just like an ordinary iron band with a ruby inlaid in it. To any normal person that’s all it is, but if it’s worn by a vampire you would no longer take damage from the sun,” Tav said, opening a worn scroll he traded off a rare artifact merchant just that morning and handing it to Astarion.

“Darling, when I asked you to get a magic ring, I assumed you understood that a normal ring would do,” Astarion said, eyes flitting across the page, full of excitement. “But this is even better, where are we heading next?”

The first lead towards the ring was only a tenday journey away, deep into the forest. The merchant Tav got the scroll off of heard that a band of mercenaries were hired to escort and deliver a shipment of valuable, possibly powerful jewelry, to Baldur’s Gate. The most sought-after piece was a simple ring that was rumored to give the wearer unimaginable power. The shipment never arrived to its destination and the band of mercenaries were never heard from again. The group had supposedly decided to take a less traveled path but it would have greatly cut down their travel time, if they had made it. Many treasure hunters had searched the area with no luck of finding any sign of the missing mercenaries or the shipment. Now it was Tav and Astarion’s turn.

The journey to the approximate last location of the mercenaries was relatively uneventful. A couple of owlbear encounters, mingled with some undead here and there. While it was nothing the two of them couldn’t handle, it did take a hit to the supplies that they had brought. While Tav was a cleric, he liked to have some potions of healing and a scroll of resurrection on hand in case things took a turn for the worse. Astarion made light of it every time he saw Tav check their bags before they traveled. This time had been no exception.

“I don’t understand why you insist on bringing all of that with you. It’s just weighing you down since you can do all of that yourself, for free,” Astarion said, gesturing towards the scroll of resurrection on the desk. “You can never be too careful, Love,” Tav replied. “Well, I guess it’s fine. In case, by some ungodly amount of bad luck, I end up having to save you for once,” Astarion joked. “Just make sure that doesn’t happen. I don’t think my heart could take it. Plus, we both know I wouldn’t know a single thing about how to use that scroll. You clerics and bards like to make everything so convoluted.”

Tav had laughed at Astarion’s joke at the time, but he wasn’t laughing now as he set up camp for the night and looked over their remaining supplies. They had enough rations to get them through one more day before they ultimately had to begin the journey back home, hands empty, to restock and try again another time. They had one potion of healing left and the resurrection scroll he had meant to pack away had stayed on the desk at home, forgotten due to Astarion’s jesting during packing.

A snapping of branches under foot brought Tav back to the present as Astarion returned to camp after scouting the area. Before Tav could say anything, the elf was already talking, excited about what he found while out.

“Darling, I found a cave. It was tucked away in a nice little nook, completely taken over by vines and absolutely unassuming. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all if something in the cave hadn’t been glinting in the moonlight. This could be what we’re looking for.”

Tav glanced down at their packs before standing and gathering his weapon and shield. A slight shiver ran down his spine accompanied by a feeling that they were being watched, but he shook it off, “Alright, let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

The cave wasn’t far from where set up camp, but Astarion was right, even if it hadn’t been covered in vines the cave opening would have been hard to notice. It was small and tucked away in small crevice of the rockface. Pushing away the vines, Astarion led the way, eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger before venturing further in. When he deemed it safe, he moved forward, Tav close behind him. The inside of the cave wasn’t anything special on the surface, dark, damp, bones and other debris littering the ground, but Astarion was looking for something specific. His eyes scanned the ground for the item that had drawn his attention to the cave originally. It didn’t take long before he found it, a few feet in and mostly buried in the dirt was a hint of silver. Digging it out he found himself holding a bracelet, a very nice one if it was cleaned up and polished. Definitely something someone of the higher class would appreciate.

“Love look, do you think this could be part of that shipment?” Astarion asked, turning to show Tav his find, but found himself dropping the bracelet instead, eyes widening in surprise. Behind Tav, shrouded in darkness, was a bandit, slinking towards them, dagger ready to strike. They had probably been watching them as soon as they entered the area, following them as they searched, on the hunt for the same treasure as they were.

Tav turned to follow Astarion’s gaze, hand reaching for his weapon but was too slow. The bandit struck, dagger sliding between Tav’s neck and his armor. Striking him just above his collarbone. Tav stumbled backwards, dropping his weapon as his reached up, grasping at his neck. Before the attacker could turn their attention to Astarion, he was already on them. Dagger striking blow after blow in a frenzied rage, ending the bandit before they had a chance to defend themselves. The bandit collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap, dagger embedded deep in its chest, forgotten, as the elf ran to his partner. Astarion fell to his knees next to Tav as he lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling quickly from the wound in his neck.

“No, nonono, you can’t die here,” Astarion pleaded, hands clawing desperately at Tav’s armor. Shaking fingers finding the clasps and pulled the chest piece away, tossing it unceremoniously to the side.

As soon as Astarion saw the wound his heart sank, there was nothing he would be able to do. The wound was too deep and too close to Tav’s carotid artery for a simple health potion to fix. Tav needed a proper healer and unfortunately the only healer around was the dying man himself. The only thing Astarion could do was put his hands on the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding as best he could. He cursed himself for not accepting Tav’s offer to teach him basic healing spells. He had gotten comfortable. Tav rarely went down in battle. His heavy armor protected him enough that he was always able to heal at the end of a fight. Not once had Astarion thought that one well aimed dagger strike would be what took him down.

“You’re going to be alright Love,” Astarion said, panic tinging his voice. “Everything’s going to be fine. The bleeding will slow and you’ll be able to patch yourself up with that fancy healing magic of yours, alright? We’ll head back home so you can rest up and we can come back another day to look for the ring. I’ve gone this long without being able to walk in the sun. What’s a few more days?”

Astarion’s hands slipped on his lover’s neck, the flow of blood not slowing no matter how hard he tried. Tav’s labored breathing became wet as blood began speckling his lips with each breath out. Astarion watched Tav’s face as the color quickly drained from his cheeks. The pulse under his fingers was beginning to slow and breath was getting shallower. Tav’s eyes found Astarion’s. Once bright eyes were now dull and glazed over. Tav’s lips moved, attempting to form words but no sound came out.

“No Dear, don’t try to speak, conserve your energy, alright,” Astarion pleaded, pressing down harder on the wound as the pulse underneath his fingers continued to slow. Tav let out what could have been a laugh but it ended up being a small huff, a smile formed on his lips just before his head rolled to the side, hand reaching for something before his body went limp.

“No. No damn you! You can’t do this to me, wake up!” the elf cried, cupping Tav’s face between his hands, forcing him to face him. Blood streaked across the cooling skin as Astarion held his lover's face in between his hands. Blank eyes stared up, unseeing. Any life that had been there was now gone.

Astarion screamed. The cry ripping through him, powerful and raw, burning his throat, as he gathered Tav into his arms. Sobs wracked his body as he pulled his lover close. Hands practically tearing the fabric with how tight he was holding on. He doesn’t know how long he sat there, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as he wept. Head buried in his lover’s neck as his hand gently carded through Tav’s hair. Time had stopped for Astarion as soon as Tav had taken his last breath. This was his fault, he told himself. Tav would not be dead in his arms if he had not joked about not being proposed to. If he hadn’t suggested a magic ring as a replacement for a wedding band, Tav would still be here. He should have known that Tav, with his stupidly, beautifully, caring heart, would take it literally. He didn’t care if they were married or not. Being together had always been more than enough for him.

He should have seen this coming. His life had been too good for too long. He was stupid to think that he was allowed to live the rest of his days happy. Now his happiness had been ripped from him without a chance for him to even fight to keep it.

Too absorbed in his grief Astarion didn’t notice the glowing coming from Tav. It wasn’t until Tav’s body jolted in his arms, heaving as he inhaled, followed by coughing as his lungs spasmed at the sudden intake of breath that Astarion sat back. His eyes wide and full of disbelief as looked at his lover, now very much alive in his arms. He took in Tav’s face, still pale, covered in his own blood from where Astarion had held it, but color undeniably flowing back into his cheeks. Astarion’s hands still clutched tightly to the fabric of Tav’s shirt as his eyes wandered lower to Tav’s neck, the place where the fatal wound had been was now smooth. As if the wound had never existed at all. Lower they went still, until they reached Tav’s hands and that’s where he saw it. Held loosely in Tav’s right hand was his weapon.

The Blood of Lathander.

Astarion remembered the day they found it. It was shortly after venturing into the artifact and meeting the being that had been protecting them from the Absolute all those years ago. They found a hidden passage in a side room that lead to the weapon. Tav had insisted that there had to be a way to take the mace safely, but Astarion urged him to just reach out and grab it. What was the worst that could happen? Turns out the building being target by a laser powered by the sun was it. Their group had barely made it out of the creche before it was destroyed. Mace still in Tav’s hand.

Once per day, if the wielder dies in battle, the mace can bring them back to life.

Astarion had never been a religious man. None of the gods and goddesses had answered him when he called out to them during his darkest years, but now he may just turn to Lathander. Even if it was just to ensure the mace never stopped working.

“Hi Love,” Tav whispered, drawing Astarion’s attention back to him. A soft smile adorning his features as he wiped a tear from the elf’s face. “Did you miss me?”

Astarion said nothing. Instead, he cupped the back of Tav’s head and brought him in for a kiss, lips crashing together. It was a desperate kiss, full of fear, anger and most of all, relief. Astarion would have kissed Tav until the end of time if he could, but unfortunately, his lover needed to breath, unlike him. Pulling away Astarion rested his forehead against his Tav’s.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Astarion hissed, voice and hands shaking as he held Tav close. Afraid if he let go now Tav would simply disappear. “I wouldn’t be able to handle losing you like that again.”

Tav didn’t speak as he wrapped his arms around Astarion. The warm embrace, reassuring the elf that he was there and, as long as Tav had a say, he wasn’t going anywhere.

[arimiadev]

visual novels I finished in 2023

I played quite a few visual novels in 2023, most of which are indie, and I want to share some highlights from that list. these are all VNs that I played all the way through and loved, so treat this also as a recommendation for each of these.

mahoyo

In the mansion on the hill, there lived two witches... It is the late 1980s—the twilight of an era of beauty and vigor. A boy moves to the city, barely missing two witches living in modern times. The boy leads a completely ordinary life. She carries herself with gallant pride. The girl lives a sleepy, hidden life. Each walks a starlit path. One would never expect their paths to cross. The story of how these three disparate people came together is soon to be told.

I've ranted a ton about mahoyo here and how much I love it. it truly is one of the best looking visual novels I've ever seen and one of my all-time favorites. I'll never be able to approach game direction the same after playing this. please do yourself a favor and play it, it's finally on steam.

model employee

Model Employee is a corporate horror visual novel where players take control of  the latest individual amongst millions to start working in one of Tethys' online shopping labyrinthine warehouses. Just discharged from the hospital and massively in debt for their life-saving cybernetics, the player-character must adapt to the "extreme" work-life balance of a Tethys Team Member- but they have help.  Penny, the artificial personality that controls all security, waste disposal, and employee surveillance in the facility, specializes in reinforcing an especially cutthroat variety  of workplace culture- and she's taken an interest in you.  With a vibrant cast, PC-98 inspired visuals and multiple endings, Model Employee is a modern horror story that'll stick with you long after you've clocked out of your shift. If you want to get ahead in your career, you gotta be willing to take some risks.

model employee is such a tightly structured visual novel for being made in just one month, making full use of everything while surprising you at every corner. every part of this game was so well planned and thought out- dystopian corporate satire isn't my cup of tea (we're living it) but the way they present everything in this game makes it feel so much more intense.

itch.io

beary the hatchet

It's Halloween 199X, and you killed someone during your morning shift. Honestly it's inconvenient. This job was imperfect, sure, but you got to wear a mask with no questions asked and the pay was livable. But now you'll have to keep the body in the backrooms till your shift is done. Bummer. "You're... the absolutely WICKED and AWESOME Bearwater Grizzly Killer, aren't you?!" ...and now enters the dreaded true crime fan.

beary the hatchet is such a uniquely lovely game to look at, even if the subject matter is grim. I love the color palette and tones in this, I love the 2.5D graphics, I love how expressive all of the designs are. it's a game oozing with style.

itch.io

disconnect

Late at night, a phone call from a friend keeps disconnecting from you... On and off, on and off, constantly... ...What would you do if you realized your friend wasn't who you thought they were? And how would you react when the truth was finally revealed? ("̷̢̑W̸̨̊o̸̫͊u̷̱͝ḽ̸͛d̴͉̐ ̵̚ͅy̵̜̽o̸̥͗u̷̮̎ ̷̜̏s̶̤̄t̸̥͐i̴̻̕l̸̰͝l̸͉̓ ̷͕́ȁ̸̩c̸̡̓t̵̜̊ ̵͓̈t̶̙̄h̶̦͂e̸̩͠ ̸̩̅s̶̘̏a̷̪͛m̵̮͒e̴͖͑ ̸̭́w̷̨̚á̴̱y̵̯̑?̶͎̌"̷͈̆) Find out what happened to our scaredy-cat protagonist, Indie－a famous horror storyteller on the H-T-M (Horror, Tales, and Mystery) forum. What would she do when she unintentionally uncovered a mystery hidden deep within her own home?

I love the style of disconnect and the unorthodox way of getting to the truth of the matter. I'm not normally one to play furry VNs, but the designs are adorable and I love the presentation of the game, it has a lot of animation in it. there's also one moment not too far in on this screen that made me scream...

itch.io

curse of the juniper tree

Curse of the Juniper tree is a tale of two siblings, a cursed tree and an isolated village. It is a short kinetic visual novel featuring 2d exploration. Walk around the snowy village and talk to its inhabitants! Story is loosely based off the fairytale called The Juniper Tree by the Brothers Grimm in Grimm's Fairy Tales in 1812.

this is a lovely and short story about two siblings living in a frozen land together. it's a very atmospheric story with so many beautiful blues and detailed character designs. the controls were a bit hard to figure out at times but it's worth your time.

itch.io

reaplaced

Grea Perrim is a reaper of souls, and it's her duty to bring the deceased to the other side. But in the world of reapers, death isn't any kind of equalizer. The value of a soul is directly tied to the peculiarity of its death. Grea's supernatural senses bring her to a Halloween house party with three costumed guests. She soon finds the most valuable kind of soul: the victim of a locked-room murder. In order to reap the soul, Grea must unravel the identity of its killer and explain its death in full. Is this the work of a human? A witch? Or something else entirely...?

reaplaced is a fun little whodunnit set on Halloween about a grim reaper out on the hunt who finds herself in the middle of a murder mystery. it's much more indepth than I was expecting and the soundtrack is wonderful—there's a lot of small touches to it that make it great.

itch.io

dual chroma [demo]

A gilded king, a powerful sorceress, and a malevolent figure governing a foul legion of beasts in a ruthless war against the Light.  For centuries, the Galens Empire has thrived upon the ancient tragedy that formed its foundations. No more than a fading past inked upon the pages of history, the Empire reigned in relative peace—until the monsters returned.  As the newest advisor to the Second Prince, you find yourself at the heart of a captivating saga, where mystery, magic, terror, and romance intertwine. Your choices in this narrative will determine not only the Empire's destiny, but also the fate of your heart. But take heed, for the path you tread may shatter the shackles of doomed love or repeat the ruin of Galens' past.

I don't play many otome demos but I played several that were submitted to otome jam this year, with dual chroma being one of them. I was surprised by the amount of care and attention put into the demo- it feels very solid with a lot of polish put into easing the player into this high fantasy world. I think I had an issue with how the tooltips would be shown (probably the frequency of them, as the in-line tooltips are very helpful) but it's been months since then.

itch.io

we know the devil

Anyone can kill the devil; that's why they always make teens the vampire slayers, the magical girls. But some kids can't even get that right; and that's why meangirl Neptune, tomboy Jupiter, and shy shy Venus have to endure one more week of summer camp and each other, singing boring songs about jesus, doing busywork for adults, and hoping god's radio can't hear them. Before they can leave the summer scouts, they've got to spend twelve hours in the loneliest cabin in the woods and wait for the devil to come and live through the night--or not. You know.

we know the devil didn't release this year but I finally got around to playing it. it's a visceral experience, something that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. I love the direction for it, the sketchy monochrome sprites against the colored photos- parts when there aren't any characters on screen feel that much more real, like you're watching found footage because of how tense everything is.

itch.io

doppelganger

The story is set in an alternate universe where the player is struggling with the memories of what they know to be TEMPUS and the mysterious look-alikes who pull them every which way. Can the player figure out the truth about this twisted world and return to the guild?

okay this is a bit of a weird one to end on, I just wanted to talk about it. doppelganger is a game made by holostars staff, i.e. the staff for the vtubing company cover corporation. I went into it expecting very, very little but I was presently surprised by how competently it was made. a lot of "bad" visual novels aren't fun to play, because they're overly long, extremely wordy, and aren't fun to read. I'd say doppelganger is "so bad it's good", which is a rarity for VNs- it's campy at times and over the top but doesn't overstay it's welcome, the pacing is remarkably good for what seem to be first time devs.

I cannot recommend this though if you're not already a fan of holostars tempus, as this is essentially just merch for them- think of it like a higher production voice pack or art pack. if you don't know each of the boys then you'll be lost, but if you do then grab another friend and play it, it took me about 4 hours to finish it with friends.

itch.io

[pkg4mumtown]

Through Glass (Ch. 7)

Chapter 7: The Distance

Rating: T

Summary: Stephen and Strange finally go head to head.

A/N: Uhhhhhhhh, remember when I apologized last chapter for up and disappearing? Yea…SORRY. Life has been very very busy. Sorry for this being relatively short.

Strange = Dr. Strange in reader’s universe

Stephen = Strange-Supreme

Warnings: Feelings of being watched, Multiversal Stalking, Possessive!Stephen, Eventual body horror, Gender Neutral Pronouns for Reader, No Y/N, First Person POV, What If AU where Reader dies instead of Christine, Strange-Supreme just needs a hug honestly, Stephen in Reader’s universe is a big dummy, Stephen is touch starved, consentacles (ch.6), smut (ch.6), reader/monster romance

Catch up with Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

I've seen this yearning take on a frightening form The memory of you will make sure my past lingers on And I still love how you say my name I still taste you kissing my pain away Still see your tears through the rain

After Wong had left to prepare the Kamar-Taj and the other sanctums for yet another attack—despite still recovering from Wanda, Strange hit the ground running on a solution. He logically expected pushback in the form of a fight but without Wong to help with preparing a heavy-duty protection spell, it took him a lot longer to prepare. Between that and coming up with a game plan that Wong would approve, Strange took a little longer than he’d like for such a pressing matter. Once he was ready, however, he wasn’t going to be stopped by any coyness or front doors. He was getting straight to the point and finally finishing this drawn-out incident.

—

The next twelve (or so) hours that Stephen and I shared together were pure domesticated bliss. But, with bliss eventually comes hunger.

I spread the last of the cream cheese on a toasted bagel, tossing the knife in the sink and grabbing both plates to head to the living room.

“Here’s your—shit!” I started, just about jumping out of my skin as I saw Strange stepping through a portal with his eyes trained on me. I was able to keep the bagels from an untimely meeting with the floor. “Hungry?” I pushed the plate toward Strange, glad Stephen was nowhere in sight. He had probably sensed him incoming and had no time to warn me.

“Two bagels?” Strange asked with an unimpressed raise of an eyebrow.

“I’m glad you can count. Bagel?”

“Where is he?” Strange demanded.

“Who?”

“I’m really not in the mood for you to play dumb,” Strange groaned, using magic to remove the plates from my hands. Thankfully, they reappeared elsewhere. “The person who was going to eat the other bagel, your dog, whatever you’re calling him. Where. Is. He?”

“Are you saying I can’t eat two bagels by myself? Because I totally could and I’m prepared to prove you wrong.”

I didn’t realize I’d been shuffling backwards until my shoulder hit the edge of the hallway. It was stupid really, attempting to rush into my room and close the door knowing full well Strange could just wiggle his fingers and make something happen. But I attempted it anyway and now I was locked inside of my, now doorless, room with him.

“Now…” Strange sighed at my minor inconveniences, “…the faster you give him up, the faster this gets over with. Youasked me for help, remember? So, if he’s threatening you, I can help with that.” Strange continued walking toward me until I was backed against the wall with no way out, “However, if you’re protecting him…”

My eyes flicked over Strange’s shoulder, spying Stephen’s murderous reflection in the mirror, “Step back, please.”

“Why? Is your dog going to come take a bite out of me?” Strange huffed, glancing over his shoulder but not seeing the reflection that I had.

“You’re going to piss him off!”

“Who?!” He shouted.

“You! Okay!?” I snapped.

Strange’s face fell as Wong’s assessment was confirmed by my confession. Strange mumbled a curse and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Hey, asshole!” Strange turned and yelled into the room, arms spread open. He walked to the middle of the room, monitoring any reflections he could. After a beat of silence, he locked eyes with me again, “I’m assuming he got spooked and went back in when I arrived?”

I rolled my eyes at “spooked” and shrugged, “Most likely.”

“Good,” he smirked, moving his arms in wide motions, creating a complex sigil before my eyes. “I’m locking him out for good, this time.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach despite knowing my Stephen was stronger. What if Strange could pull it off? Then what?

“No!” I lurched forward, stupidly grabbing his arm mid-cast. “You can’t! He’s not a bad person!”

Strange stepped away from me, pausing the casting so I didn’t hurt myself, “I’m trying to protect you! Just like you asked!”

“You don’t even know me!”

“That didn’t matter before. And anyway, it’s for the best. Knowing me would put you in danger that you couldn’t handle,” Strange snarled grimly, drawing his brows together.

“According to you, I already am.”

Strange huffed as his concentration broke, moving away from me and stomping over to the large mirror where most of the energy had been concentrated before.

“Strange, dammit!” I shoved his shoulder as he began to cast the spell again.

“You are pushing every last button I have,” he growled, shaking me off his shoulder.

Facing the mirror again, Strange quickly shuffled back a few steps as Stephen appeared, fully decked out in his menacing creature form.

Shit.

“Oh, he’s not bad, huh?” Strange stressed, waving an arm out to the mirror. “Look at him!”

Strange restarted the spell again only for me to shove him harder. I had barely made contact when I was pushed by an invisible force, landing hard on the floor with a groan. I stood back up, no injuries to speak of other than a bruised ego and a bruised ass.

“Uh, ow?”

“If you’d’ve stayed back, I wouldn’t hav—,” Strange was cut off as tentacles suddenly pushed through the mirror, wrapping around Strange’s neck, wrists, and torso. He was lifted off the ground, bringing him eye level to Stephen, while keeping his hands apart.

Stephen leaned out of the mirror, snarling and growling filling up the room instantly, “Don’t you dare bring harm to them again! You know how important they are to us, coward!”

“They’re not—gah—yours to protect,” Strange choked out. “What happened—to—yours, hmm?”

“They’re gone,” Stephen brought his face even closer to Strange’s then glanced slightly upwards to Strange’s forehead. “Oh…,” Stephen chuckled, “…how precious.”

Strange’s fists were clenched, wrists contorting as he tried to over power Stephen as violet magic emanated from his fists. It was only then that I noticed the third eye on Strange’s face. Not that more than two eyes was strange to me at this point, I just wasn’t aware that Strange had some of that funk going on, too.

“The Darkhold, Doctor? What a hypocrite!” Stephen spat.

“I—did what I—had to do,” Strange gurgled.

“To save the girl, yes. I’m aware America Chavez resides here. Great kid. Anyway,” Stephen brought Strange’s hand in between them with a tentacle, “Here’s the difference between you and me, Doc.” With some effort, Stephen managed to force one of his arms back to his human form from the elbow down to his fingers. He put their hands side by side, one heavily scarred and shaking while the other stood unmarred and perfectly still, and snarled, “You didn’t have to lose them to follow your fate into the Mystic Arts. I did!”

As Stephen said his piece, I felt for Strange as I watched his face grow a deeper red—borderline purple—and worryingly so as the tentacles seemed to squeeze harder the more Stephen raged on. Hesitantly, I approached, making sure Shumi was able to sense my presence amidst all the emotion before laying a hand on the tentacle wrapped around Strange’s neck.

“Stephen, please,” I asked softly.

“Get back,” Strange wheezed, more air than noise escaping.

Stephen snarled at Strange before glancing at me from the corner of a few of his eyes, while the others stayed trained on Strange.

“Put him down before something bad happens. This universe still needs its Doctor Strange.”

Stephen responded with something akin to a grumble and loosened up the tentacles, letting Strange drop to his feet with a not-so-gentle thud.

“Wha—?” Strange wheezed, clutching his neck and his face only donning two eyes once more, but still staring at Stephen’s bare arm. “Ah—How?”

“The car accident,” Stephen’s voice distorted midway through speaking as he calmed the beings inside him and switched back to his human form; his body going back behind the mirror. His red and purple robes sat heavily on his shoulders contrasting his gaunt, pale features with his light brown hair contrasting Strange’s deep, black hair. “They died in the car accident. In my accident.”

“Y—you knew them…before?” Strange cleared his throat, eyes squinting as he tried to piece together Stephen’s timeline.

Stephen’s head nodded silently, eyes cast downward at the mention of his past; clearly still feeling the weight of the guilt of his actions.

“So, you joined the Mystic Arts and turned yourself in to this? Do I even want to know what you did?!” Strange berated him. “You could have gone back to work but you chose this instead?”

Stephen’s face snapped up, a snarl marring his human features. He charged toward the mirror with fists balled and fury in his eyes, “They meant more to me than work! That’s the difference between you and me.”

Strange responded in kind, bringing up huge orange runes to shield himself in case Stephen did anything.

“Stop!” I snapped. “Look, Strange, he’s been here for months and hasn’t done anything bad. Those aren’t his intentions.”

“He’s still dangerous,” Doctor Strange stated matter of factly.

“He’s no—.”

“You have no idea what just his presence could do here, okay? Just his being here destabilizes the multiverse and could cause far more harm than he may intend,” Strange raised his voice, just on the edge of condescending despite the glare from Stephen.

“I—is that true?” I stalled thickly, looking over at Stephen for answers.

“It’s hypothetica—.”

“It’s actually very real, thank you,” Strange interrupted. “Incursions are not to be trifled with.”

Stephen scoffed, “Please, I’ve hopped around the multiverse plenty and nev—.”

“Oh my fu…,” Strange trailed off, running a hand over his tired face.

“For good reason! There have been plenty of multiversal disasters prevented thanks to me, your highness. So, you’re welcome for dealing with them before they reached your universe.”

“Coming from someone who has had to rectify his own incursion, they are still not to be brushed off as hypothetical!” Strange stressed.

“I jus—.”

“—Haven’t you ruined enough!?” Strange nearly shouted.

Stephen stopped speaking immediately, suddenly feeling very small despite the power inside him.

“From the looks of it, your universe isn’t doing too hot,” Strange made a show of peering around Stephen. “Then you drove erratically with them in the car and had the audacity to think you could…what? Fix it? Without consequences? Am I on the right track?”

Stephen was still silent.

“Stephen…” I murmured.

“No,” he whispered back. “He’s right.”

“No...,” my eyes widened.

“I’ll leave,” Stephen nodded, finally picking his eyes up and looking at me. “I just wanted more time.”

“Please don’t go,” I pushed forward to the mirror, feeling my throat tightening with every word.

“I have to,” Stephen looked away, the sight of tears pooling in my eyes suddenly too much for him to watch. “You were never mine to have anyway. You’re his.”

Overwhelmed with anger, I hit the wall next to the mirror with my palm and ignored the pain thereafter, “No one owns me! He doesn’t even know me! Not like you do!” I blew up at the mirror. My chest heaved with furious breathing and hitched breaths underneath the sight of tears making their way down my cheeks.

“I know, hey…” Stephen pushed himself part way through the mirror, not caring if Strange protested or not. He pressed his forehead against mine and settled his hands on the outside of my upper arms, rubbing his hands up and down to calm me. “…I know. And I don’t agree with him but…”

“I’m right here,” Strange scoffed distantly.

“…I’m sorry,” Stephen murmured.

I was barely able to brush my lips against his before he was pulling away completely, looking completely dejected and defeated without Strange even having to lift a finger to accomplish it. I slowly stepped back out of shock that this was happening.

“Whatever Multiversal saving you’ve been doing aside…I’m going to need you to respect this for this universe at least,” Strange sighed. “I really don’t want to drag Wong here to help me seal the place up.”

Stephen nodded solemnly.

“You can't make him go!” I suddenly blurted out, grabbing onto Strange’s forearm. “You can’t do this! He just wants to feel again!” Strange kept his arm strong to keep me back from the mirror as my words slowly disintegrated into sobs. My weight shifted ominously making Strange shift to catch me and help lower me to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“Don’t touch me! Get the fuck out of my house!” I pushed him away and used my feet to scoot myself away from him. I pressed my back against the wall, bringing my palms to my eyes and refusing to see Stephen drift away like a dream.

“Doc…” Stephen murmured over my sobs.

Strange closed his eyes and straightened himself up, giving his attention over to the pale face in the mirror.

“You don’t need to do this self-sacrificing stunt that we always pull,” Stephen muttered. “You can still fix things with them.”

“You’re the last person who should be giving advice,” Strange rolled his eyes.

“On the contrary, and don’t look at me like that. I am you. I clocked your idiotic plan a few weeks into being here,” Stephen snapped and then sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Look, I’ve made a lot of mistakes but them? They were never a mistake.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Strange flicked his eyes over to my curled up ball of a form.

“You’re allowed to feel and be human. You do deserve to be loved and happy.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to love someone or to have them love me,” Strange’s voice wavered. “I’m scared to lose them.”

“So, you keep them at a distance before anything can begin, I get it. But, as much as you think they’re not, they are safer with you. And despite what you’ve pulled so far, they’re forgiving to a fault—given some time. You have a chance still. Take it from me…Don’t. Waste. It. It could be your last one.”

Strange watched as his darker self turned around and walked away, slowly fading out into Strange’s own reflection. With my sobs still filling the suddenly quiet room, Strange stepped carefully out of the room. He waved his hand, making my bedroom door appear again and disappeared through a circle of sparks. The crackling sparks fizzled out moments later, leaving only me to fill the silence.

-

Don't you worry There'll be a time when our hearts beat the same Let life carry Across the distance I still see your flame

The Distance - Poets of the Fall (x)

-

Chapter 8 - Coming Soon

[itshype]

Writing Patterns

Rules: list the last lines of the last 10 fics you've posted to see if there is a pattern. (I did first lines because I apparently can't read and on pillowfort the first line game was going around so I just assumed and now I'm not redoing this)

Tagged by @nonamemanga

Excluding Ao3 archives of notfics (infinite vigilantes, hearty mini dress and loveweaver) here are my last ten!

My self-portrait of you (T | 9k | Wednesday) If Tyler’s colleagues at the Weathervane ever found out how much he loved working the late shift, it would make it a lot harder to extort extravagant favours from them in exchange for taking said night shifts week after week.

Pyrrhic Miracle (T | 9k | Iron Man) Obadiah hated Howard Stark. He would sell him to Satan for one corn chip and fantasized about doing just that with a frequency that bordered on psychotic regularity.

Unstoppable (life)force, immovable object(ion)  (T | 2k | Batman) The room was really the most blandest definition of a room. There were four walls exactly, a door at Jason’s back, and the walls were a green-brown-greige colour for which arguments could be made closely resembled several other colours.

A Standing Reservation in the Eye of the Storm (T | 14k | Wednesday) The second Tyler clapped eyes on the demon he cursed; briefly, colourfully, and quietly underneath his breath. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Skeleton Key (T | 10k | Wednesday) Tyler was submerged, deep beneath the surface of the water. For the majority of the last year, his life had been meticulously micromanaged by Laurel, every hint of his personality ground to dust. 

Eugene vs Etiquette (G | 2k | Wednesday) I can’t not mind control my only friend’s boyfriend!!! Help!!!

Enid Sinclair vs the World Wide Web (G | 2k | Wednesday) AITA for not sharing my bestie's bf's trauma even though everyone was super scared of him??

Not a Trainwreck, but I Can’t Look Away (T | 4k | Wednesday) The entire thing really is Tyler’s fault.

An hour into Armageddon, but also last week (T | 2k | Wednesday) Xavier was still entombed in the backseat of the Sheriff’s car when he heard a wolf’s howl, split through with a monstrous roar like a huntsman’s axe through wood. He screamed in frustration, his too-small human voice joining the choir of war cries.

The Only Garden My Heart Will Ever Grow In  (T | 3k | Wednesday) Wednesday was at the Weathervane, suffering with endless patience through a substandard quad – made by someone other than her boyfriend. She had been hoping Tyler would be present somehow, despite having memorised his class schedule, and had been disappointed.

Analysis: I feel like more often than not I go for a slightly comedic opening. With the exceptions of #3, #5 and #9 which are overall more dramatic works that deal more with body horror and death - even if they're not funny, I do intentionally put a kind of humour into my fics and try and show that tone with the opening line.

[adobedragon]

Lance had stopped by the grocery store on the way home from work and consequently, Pidge made it to their apartment first.

After changing out of work clothes into a comfy t-shirt and shorts, she flung herself on the bed, surrendering to an adolescent sulk fueled by her brain’s irritating tendency to obsessively play the day’s events over and over.

Hearing him entering the apartment and moving about the kitchen, she considered rising to help unpack and put away groceries, but stubborn anger held her in bed, staring at the wall, quietly fuming.

“Honey, I’m home,” announced Lance in an overdone Cuban accent as he strolled into the bedroom.

She ignored him, eyes still on the bedroom’s wall, as the clomp of boots hitting the floor and squeak of drawers opening and closing announced his wardrobe change, probably into garb similar to hers, a t-shirt and shorts. The bed shuddered as he plopped down at her side.

“Okay,” he said with a note of pique. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” She cursed herself for the stupid passive aggressive response, but honestly? He should've known damned well what he did.

“Then why the ice-cold shoulder?” He tapped her shoulder and then hissed. “Brrrr. Arctic.” At this, she growled and he chuckled. “And she’s growling. I must’ve really fucked up.”

“Yup.”

“I’m a really perceptive guy, but I can’t read minds.”

Like an angry toddler, she squeezed her eyes shut and snapped, “I’m not helpless.”

“I know,” said Lance, tenor tones slightly higher in pitch with confusion.

“No, you don’t.” Her fists clenched around the bedsheets as bottled-up frustration rose in her throat.

“Of course, I do, what…?” Silence followed. “Oh, is this about today? At the lab? With what’s-his face, Buckley?”

“Well, d’uh,” she grumbled.

“He was being a dick and—”

“I had it under control! Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t fight my own battles.” Lance, of all people should have known that.

His sigh was a low gust of sound in the small bedroom. “Pidge, look at me. Please.” His hand wrapped around her shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze and then he tugged, trying to pull her towards him.

She stiffened, angry but as usual the heat of anger cooled and soothed by the comfort of his touch. Muscles still tight in protest, she allowed him to disentangle her fists from the sheet and turn her about to face him. When he tried to take her hand, however, she made a fist, resisting.

His slim fingertips moved to her wrist instead and he gently massaged the bony intersection of wrist to hand. “You’re the strongest person, I know, Paloma.”

“Damned straight,” she gritted out.

Clever fingers sliding over the back of her hand, his index finger then tapped the gold band on her ring finger. “For better or worse. Right?”

She grunted.

“We’re a team. A team of two, now. We help each other.”

“Help. Not take over and make me look…weak.”

His fingers went back to massaging her wrist and arm. “I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. “Talk to me. How can I fix this?”

“I don’t need rescuing,” she said, though much of her anger had faded. It was impossible to stay mad at the infuriating man.

“I need to help. It’s my thing.” His other arm was wrapped around her back, holding her to his side. “How about we work out a signal? One where I ask if you need help, and you signal back ‘yes or no’?”

“That could work,” she conceded. He was hopelessly trapped in hero mode, even now, a decade removed from his tenure as a Paladin of Voltron. Truth was, so was she. Once a hero, always a hero.

“But, could you do me a favor?” he asked. “Maybe, once in a while, let me be the hero. For the sake of my fragile ego?”

She watched his lovely hand, slender brown fingers moving gracefully as they rubbed circles on her freckled knuckles. “Okay,” she agreed. “Next time there’s a spider in the bathroom, you have to catch it and put it outside.” Pidge was the usual rescuer and relocator of errant spiders.

“Spider!” Lance’s horror reverberated through his chest and into her body. “I meant something easy like, like slaying a Robeast with my bare hands.”

Fingers unclenching, Pidge wiggled her fingers like arachnid legs and plunged them, tickling, into his armpit, her previous anger totally forgotten in the duet of their laughter.

[marvelmaniac715]

It’s another au! This one is about everyone’s favourite traumatised six year old: Andy Barclay! And this fic actually features Karen, and I’m looking forward to that because I haven’t really written about her before. 

————————————————————-

At the age of six, Andy Barclay changed. Up until that point, he was a polite, happy, well-behaved little boy who got along with everybody. But seemingly overnight, the laughter and smiles disappeared, replaced by suspicious glares and cruel smirks.

His mother took it the hardest. For years, she had a wonderful relationship with her son, but not long after he got that damned Good Guy doll… Karen had lost her sweet little boy forever. Now he cursed, he stole, he tried to smoke, she even caught him beating up other kids once or twice.

It only got worse as he grew older, by the age of eleven Andy Barclay was an absolute menace. Sometimes Karen feared him, the child had no remorse and no mercy, if you annoyed him even slightly, he’d punch you, bite you and verbally assault you until you felt like crying. And he took such delight in it too.

One day, Andy brought home a woman called Tiffany Valentine. He was very mad when Karen kicked her out and slammed the door.

When Karen could take it no more, she pulled Andy aside roughly by the arm and shook him.

“Alright, who are you?”

At first Andy blinked innocently, trying to seem confused.

“Huh? Mom, I’m Andy.”

Karen shook her head.

“No, my son was nothing like you. You- whatever you are- took over my little boy’s body when he was six years old, and all I want to know is who are you?”

The boy grinned and cackled.

“Satan.”

No, that wasn’t it. That would be too obvious. This was someone else, but who? Karen shook him again, growing more irritated.

“Cut the crap. Who are you?”

Genuinely frightened (even if momentarily) the person in front of her backed up slightly and raised their hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright, geez! Calm down lady, I’ll tell you. My real name is Charles Lee Ray, but my friends call me Chucky.”

Karen gasped in horror. The Lakeshore Strangler had possessed her son? But how? She was so shocked that she backed into a shelf, knocking various pieces of cutlery to the ground.

“How did you possess Andy?”

Chucky smirked.

“Voodoo is a wonderful thing, you can do anything through the power of Damballa. Your son was a very willing host, I was in that little doll you gave him for his birthday. All I had to do was convince him that his daddy sent me to Earth to play with him and he was putty in my hands.”

Karen began to cry now. This was all her fault… she had doomed her son just because she wanted to give him the perfect birthday. As if trying to alleviate the tension (or add to Karen’s suffering, who knows) Chucky casually remarked:

“He asks about you all the time. I’m not a monster, I let him float close to the surface quite a lot, but I can’t bear to lose control of this vessel, so he won’t be taking control anytime soon. He told me to tell you that he loves you though, if that’s any consolation.”

Filled with a sudden, furious fire, Karen exclaimed:

“I’m not letting you have him any longer! I’ll find help, I don’t know how or where, but god knows I won’t stop until you’re out of there-‘

“And what makes you think I can’t stop you?”

Karen snorted.

“You have the strength and power of an eleven year old, you can’t stop a grown adult, small fry.”

That’s when Chucky backed away a little bit further, widening his eyes that were now glistening with tears and shielding his face with his hands. Then, in a heartbreaking voice, he called out:

“No- Mommy, please stop! It hurts- please stop!”

He had her there. If he pretended to be abused he could get himself taken away, then Karen would be powerless and would never be able to see her son again. Admitting defeat, she sighed and asked:

“So what do you want me to do then?”

Shaking off the whole ‘frightened’ act, Chucky crossed his arms and said:

“Well, you’re a mother, and mothers are supposed to support their children. I may not be your biological son, but I’m in his body, so by all technicality we’re family. Now, move your ass, I gotta get to soccer practice.”

————————————————————-

That evening, as the monster that was possessing her son went to bed, it suddenly struck Karen that Andy could possibly gain control whilst his body was asleep, or at least be able to hear things around him. With that in mind, she crept into her son’s bedroom and gently stroked hair out of her little boy’s eyes before quietly whispering:

“Andy? Can you hear me? It’s Mommy. Listen, I’m so sorry that I got you into this mess, and I promise that I’ll get him out of you. Goodnight baby, I love you.”

It seemed like a foolish hope, but just as she stood to leave the room, she heard a timid voice (warm and kind, not like him) whisper:

“G’night, Momma, please get him out soon…”

[real-godzekiel]

monster 4

i love m4 thank you

(The use of he/him for Monster 4 may be temporary. I have no idea what pronouns this silly would use. Honestly, anything but it/its would probably do. ) So I got the DLC TEX folder. The png files for Monster 4's death screen. Got nothing more than what I got when I first saw it and looked thoroughly through every frame. The reason why I'm mentioning this at the beginning of Monster 4's headcanon post will be explained at the bottom of the post after an edit. But here's what I have for him:

Dude's kind of miserable. He was doing alright in the tranquility of... well, nothingness before the Protagonist awaken his mind and his stomach muscles with the sound of rattling keys. His chase sequence is equivalent of a stabbed man running for an ambulance. Bad comparison when it happens in a cursed hospital in a cursed mansion, but you get the picture. Every second he's conscious, he suffers from an unquenchable hunger (LiV reference???). Every second when the hunger is slightly more manageable, he suffers from a number of conflicting emotions: guilt, fear of feeling worse again, fear of remembering shit he does not want to remember, fear of forgetting who he is, fear of the hospital environment and fear of what's outside the hospital. But right now, he's doing surprisingly well cleaning after the other hospital inhabitants.

Canonically a gamer:

I would imagine he's immune to horror games but does not have a preference towards them. He plays Slime Rancher and Amnesia with the same amount of casual enthusiasm. This fucker is so dedicated and curious that he'll spend hours exploring useless corners so he experiences everything the game has to offer. Gets mad at letsplayers when they miss secret endings/easter eggs or misinterpret lore.

Extreme pain tolerance in every part of his body except for the digestive system and brain. Either everything else seems like papercuts by comparison or that in some way he's half-dead. He's still stuck in the mindset that he is fully alive and human, albeit mutilated. It's not that he isn't aware of what vaguely happened to him, but that he reacts to the other horrific shit that goes on in the mansion like he doesn't eat people and that death is something that can still happen to him.

Eats everything that's SOFT enough. That is to say, he will not eat glass shards. Nor hard rocks. Nor tables. Nor an entire killer whale without taking time to cut it into pieces. Nor any type of weapon for that matter. Favorite food is raw red meat (beef, pork and lamb) and grilled potatoes and yam. Drinks (what he believes is) water like a healthy person.

"Rex" began when Bekka pointed out the similarities between his roar and that of a T Rex's. He's fine with this. Dinosaurs are kind of cool.

He's currently learning to knit. Wearing the same oversized patient gown is not super convenient. (Specimen 6: "Where the fuck did my needle go")

So. Regarding a more concrete backstory: I have no clue. The entire issue originates from his death screen. Most enemies have a small amount of intelligible information for my brain to form a character background out of. But God, Kira needs to tell me what details in M4's death screen is serious or simple easter eggs or making fun of this type of communicating lore to the community. This fella's death screen has no need to look like it came straight out of an ARG. Why is there a QR code that takes me to a quote site. What does this mean? Why are there so many text that I can barely decipher. All this made me feel like I'm missing something when constructing how this guy came into being in my head. Probably around the lines of being a hospital patient, getting influenced by Monster 5, eating his family then attempting to off himself and failing (somewhat). That's the general consensus in the SJSM community, but just from that death screen I still feel that's not enough. A dark/hj part of me is telling me Monster 4 might be like Specimen 9, something based on a real event or some bullshit just because his death screen is so packed with things that suggest secrets but are impossible to solve, at least for me. I don't even know. Here's some screenshots I want to talk about:

What is that B&W background?? A flower??? A brain????

This is interesting because it's similar to Nurse Tanaka's note. Might just be a reference to Monster 5's influence, which affects nearly every Karamari Hospitel character, so I don't know if this is anything important.

What interested me most is the family photo. The contrast and distortions are too high for me to find out the source for the original image of this photo, but it looks quite real. Could be a random stock image or something else. I honestly don't know. If you happen to find the original image and the context behind it, please send it to me. Thanks. This post is getting too long and I spent my whole afternoon on it.