#torture in fiction series

[xoxochb]

If I can’t have him, I might just die, it would make no difference

[ultfan]

me when tumblr recommends me someone defending dr3 in the tags and i read through the entire thing and get mad bc they don't understand what brainwashing really is.

[jakkon-and-rose-topic]

Cw: Swearing, Alcohol usage, mentions to torture, PTSD, implied Depression, and yeah... just don't read this if you're sensitive.

Uhhh... So... It's a little different. And Weird. And probably has a lot of flaws, but... enjoy?

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“You look nice!” Rose smiled at her brother-in-law. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in Blue before.”

“Hey, you look good too Petals.” Jakkon offered her his arm. “But I will admit, you look better in red!”

“Is that what you told Eveny when you had Rune?” Rose took his arm with a sly smirk. Jakkon froze and looked down at his sister-in-law, face turning bright red in embarrassment. “Oh, you are so easy to make fun of!”

“Hey!” Jakkon shook his head, trying to clear the heat from his face. “You… I… Hey!” 

“Take it as revenge for what you said about the red dress.”

“What- All I did was compare the color. It was meant to be a compliment!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment when I’m dead.”

Jakkon gaped at her in fake offense. “Rude! Any man who tries to dance with you has my condolences for dealing with that flame of a tongue you’ve got!”

Rose smirked. “Well, I pity whoever asks you. The two-left-hooves I know couldn’t dance if his life depended on it.”

“What person in their right mind would ever ask me to dance?” Jakkon laughed, smoothing the hair out of his face.

“Hey, Horns? If my sister thought you were attractive enough to marry you, you’ve got to have something going for you.”

The Satyr and Fae both smiled.  “Do you want to go look at the food options?”

“Really? You want to?” 

“Sure! Why not?”

“Alright!” Rose glanced around at the other guests, noting that most of them had something, whether it be a drink or a small bit of food, and let her brother-in-law lead her through the crowds over to a series of tables. 

The two lightly teased one another for a bit, Rose taking a few small fruits, and Jakkon just keeping her company before they ventured back out into the crowds to strike up conversation with Morena and Finn.

Jakkon put his hands behind his back. “So, have either of you tried dancing yet?” 

“No. Um… Not yet.” Morena smiled sheepishly, the tips of her ears tinging pink as Finn looked at the ground.

“Come on! Have some fun! Live a little!” Rose elbowed Finn.

“Now you sound like Jak.” The harpy glanced up and met Jakkon’s eyes. The Satyr broke into a smirk and Finn managed a smile.

“Go on! Have fun you two! Don’t just stand here!” Jakkon smiled at Morena and threw his arms around her. 

Morena smiled softly as Jakkon stepped behind Morena and leaned forward. “Sorry.” Then he pushed her toward Finn. Both jumped, and Finn caught Morena, their faces turning bright pink.

“I… uh… sorry!”

“No, no, you’re alright!”

“Same to you I just…”

Both of the harpies froze, looking at one another before Finn offered Morena his hand. “Well… um… Would you like to dance?”

Morena smiled and took it. “Yes. I would. Very much.”

Rose held up a fist, and Jakkon bumped it with a smirk. “Mission accomplished.”

After a few minutes of silent celebration, Rose and Jakkon snuck through the crowds to watch the slow dance. The two harpies stumbled over their talons a few times, this particular dance not fit for them, but they came back holding hands and laughing. 

“So, have fun?” The Satyr smiled.

“Yes, no thanks to you!” Morena smiled at him and hugged him. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my civil duty ma’am.” Jakkon gave her a fake salute and Rose smirked.

But suddenly, a voice interrupted them. “Finn! It’s good to see you!” 

Rose eyed the newcomers but leaned against her brother-in-law. “Hey Horns, how many times do you think you’d fall over if you tried to dance?”

“Every step!” He laughed as someone in the crowd moved and he caught sight of a painfully familiar figure with the group talking to Finn. Pale skin, sharp ears, and cold piercing eyes. The smile on his face faded as his pupils constricted in terror, and he flinched back.

“Huh? Horns?” Rose reached out to him, but Jakkon pulled away from her as the figure turned, a long black braid rested against the golden buttons on his suit. 

Just as Jakkon was about to run, the cold, hissing voice called out cheerfully. “Jak! It’s good to see you here!” The Satyr flinched, shivering as he closed his eyes. But the elf ignored his obvious fear and grabbed his wrist, faking a handshake as he pulled him back. “Are you… enjoying yourself?”

Jakkon froze, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at the ground. “Yessir. It has been… very nice. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Glad to hear you’re grateful.” He smiled. “Now who’s this lovely creature?” He let go of Jakkon, turning to Rose as he took her hand and kissed it.

“DON’T-” Jakkon stopped himself, “touch her.”

“What was that?” Eynalis turned back to Jakkon, his eyes narrowing.

“I… I uh… N-nothing sir. Please don’t touch her... She’s my family. I wouldn’t want anyone getting any ideas!” He laughed nervously, pulling Rose away from the elf, who smiled, knowing he now had a good method of keeping Jakkon right where he wanted him.

“Who is this?” Rose tilted her head.

“Yes Jak, don’t be rude. Please, introduce us.” The Elf grinned.

“Um…” The Satyr shifted. “Rose… this is Eynalis. He… he’s my boss. And our host. He’s been like a father to me since I got this job. Eynalis, this is… my sister, Rose.”

“Ah! It’s good to meet you, m’lady!” Eynalis grinned, shifting the glass of wine in his hand.

Rose glanced at Jakkon and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Why are you so desperate to leave? He doesn’t seem so bad.”

��I- I… um… I don’t… never mind.” The Satyr avoided her eyes as Eynalis grabbed back onto his wrist.

“Yes! Why are you so eager to go somewhere Jak? Are you… afraid of being tied down?”

Jakkon gasped a shaking breath. “I… No sir…”

“Good!” Eynalis grinned. “You know Jak, emotions are so fleeting. Like the love of flowers in spring.”

Eynalis tightened his grip on the Satyr’s arm as he gasped a shaky breath. “I’m so glad you work for me. There are so many things you’re capable of in this fleeting world. There’s so much fun to be had at parties like these you know. Do you remember the last time we had a meeting?” Jakkon froze, horrified as he remembered the screams of Eveny and Rune. “Or what about when you met my friend? Such good times!” The Satyr flinched back, air not reaching his lungs at the mention of the serial killer and the memories of Eveny’s cold dead eyes and ashy flesh. He stumbled back as Eynalis’ magic seeped through his skin, flaring the pain and the memories as the Elf’s grip tightened, crushing Jakkon’s wrist.

He leaned forward. “You know she held out hope for you until the last moment. Your little boy might still be alive if you hadn’t refused? You’re my son. Do you want me to take that pain away? I could. Just give me a knife and a few minutes.” Eynalis straightened. “But Rose! I don’t know a lot about you dear! How do you know Finn and Jak?”

But the voices blurred together as Jakkon's hands flew to his face, thorny whips of icy fire slicing through every inch of his skin, weaving through his whole body like a sewing needle fastening him to blood and bones swallowing him whole. His hands reached out of the void for help only to grasp the blades of the knives which drew screams from his family's lips. 

… 

Rose pulled away from the strange Elf. “Thank you for your time Mr. Eynalis. You're very kind. But I think I ought to discuss a few things with my coworkers. I hope you understand.”

“Of course my dear! It was a nice talk! I hope to meet you again another day.” He kissed her hand, holding it a little too tight as Rose pulled back.

Eynalis waved and trotted off into the crowd, leaving Rose alone. She glanced around. “Hey, Horns-” But the Fae stopped as she turned, confused and startled to find that Jakkon wasn't beside her. “Horns?” She looked around frantically, eyes wide. The Fae whirled around and lunged for Finn, yanking him toward her.

“Hey? What?” The harpy raised an eyebrow.

Rose lowered her voice and hissed through her teeth. “Have you seen Jak?”

Finn froze and turned, looking around the room. “Wasn't he with you?”

“He was! But I… he's gone!”

“Shit. Uh… try looking around, ask for him. The servants might know!”

“What? Why would they know?” Rose's breaths came quicker as she began to panic. 

“They're your best bet, they're everywhere.” Finn shrugged. “Listen, Rose, I'm not a detective, alright? I may not like Jak, but I want him to be okay. You got this Rose.”

“Thank you, Finn.” 

“You're welcome. Tell me if there's any way I can help.” The harpy smiled encouragingly at her.

Rose shook her head and raced off, lifting her skirts just enough so she wouldn't trip on them as she asked any guests she ran into, but none had answers until she moved past the tables. Two servants leaned against the wall arguing in hushed tones, catching Rose's attention. 

“Why the hell did you let him take those?”

I didn't! He asked how many we had and what they were for, and then when I showed him, he took them from me. I mean, good riddance they're gone. But I'm a little concerned.”

“A little? Aeridine could kill a man!” Rose froze at the mention of the name. Aeradine, generally used as a painkiller or as a party drink for the more animalistic species like Aperrunai or Ferrakin.

“I've seen him before. He's one of us…” The second servant stared up at the ceiling as Rose stopped to listen. “Eynalis has him on a leash. He's terrified of boss. Rightfully so.” He shuddered. 

“Oh…” The first stopped. “Oh no, oh shit… we can't leave our post, but we have to help him. That's… oh no.”

“We need to get someone… but who will listen to us? Who won't tell boss?”

Rose perked up. “Hey! You two. Who are you talking about? I'm looking for someone!”

The Second servant paused before the first one elbowed him. “Um… Dark brown hair, almost black, long ponytail? Curly Horns, Dark red eyes… Oh shit… Was that Jakkon Erwhyn?”

“Yes!” Rose grinned. “If that’s who it was I need to find him!”

“How did we not recognize- uh, he went that way! Please help him! He didn't look good when we saw him!”

“Will Do! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rise bolted off in the direction the servant had pointed until she found a large door. She took a step back, staring up at it in uncertainty. But a flash of blue caught her eye, and she turned, a ripped piece of blue fabric torn on the thorny branch of a tree. 

Rose steeled her resolve and shoved the doors open. But she froze in her tracks as her eyes landed on the familiar thin figure of Jakkon, slumped at the bottom of the steps, one of his arms wrapped around himself for warmth as he drained the remainder of the silver bottle.

“Hey! Horns! Horns, stop it! Are you okay?” Rose hurried down the stairs, then yelped in horror as she tripped on her skirt and fell. Jakkon whirled toward her, falling halfway and bracing himself with one hand on the steps.

“Ughh… Fuck.” But he shook his head and launched himself to his feet, catching Rose in a hug, wavering on his feet as she gasped. The fae just managed to gain her footing as she held onto her brother-in-law. 

“Hey, Horns, what the fuck is going on?” Rose looked up at him, wincing at the strange scent of alcohol, but stopped as Jakkon’s eyes glazed over in a dead expression. He murmured something about blood and crumpled to the ground, his supporting arm around Rose ending up taking her down with him.

Rose yelped in surprise as they landed in a tangled heap on the stone, Jakkon absorbing most of the impact as she scrambled back, shaking his shoulders. “Jak! Jakkon! Are you alright? Can you hear me?” But when he didn't respond, she balled her hand into a fist and punched his shoulder.

Again, she was rewarded with nothing. No sound, no movement, simply shallow raspy breaths. “Fuck. Finn!” Rose launched herself to her feet and ran back to the party. “Hey! You two! Find a Harpy named Finn for me, will you?”

“Yes ma'am! Is he alright?”

“No. That's why I need Finn. Tell him Rose sent you.”

“Yes ma'am, understood!” The second servant raced off as Rose returned to Jakkon to find him curled up, shivering lightly. She cleared worried tears from her face and picked him up by both arms, trying her best to drag him over to the railing so she could prop him up correctly. 

…

Jakkon sat up to find himself in a dark room, tangled in a thick white blanket. He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead with a muffled groan of pain. But he just sat there for a moment, head in his hands, as his thoughts returned to him and he kicked the blanket to the side.

What’s the point? What’s the point of living a life like this if I live just to be tortured and reach sleep in the next few hours? Why do I care? Rose won’t forget me no matter what I do, so why do I keep trying to make her? They all love me. But why? I’m worthless. I live three hours in misery just to live the next five in agony. He flinched, reaching into the pocket of his overcoat and pulling out the glass shard he’d kept, staring at it. What’s the point of living if there’s no way to feel anything but hollow? Why should I care? I’ve only done damage by living. What do I care about? My family. I need to protect them. But how? By taking away the danger in their life. And that danger… He paused, looking down at the glass and his hands. Is me.

@aestheic-writer18 @ajgrey9647 @agirlandherquill @aalinaaaaaa @generic-whumperz @angst-is-love-angst-is-life @rivenantiqnerd @goldencomet69 @lumpofsand @blueberryseast1 @cybercelestian @chainsawpuppy88 @baconandeggs-25 @corinneglass @carosbee @danielleitloudernow @darkandstormydolls @illarian-rambling @idunnobutliaiscool @katwritesshit @kia-is-poisoned @phoenixradiant @thelazywitchphotographer @whumped-by-glitter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @i-hate-happy-endings @randomfixation @leahnardo-da-veggie @oliolioxenfreewrites @caffeinatedscorpio

It's done :]

[art-beyond-the-stars]

Do you ever revisit fan content that you have nostalgia for and wish that it was Better

[cookie-de-baunilha]

𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 + Percy Wainwright | pt. 1

[bioshzrd]

Bro why the hate for Wesker simps??? We’re just out here simping for a FICTIONAL CHARACTER who hasn’t done any actual harm in the real world, what’s wrong with that??????? /genuine because I don’t get it, we’re literally just existing and having fun

because people “simping” for a character who references real life nazi propaganda (in the games where the main central issue is eugenics but that seems to be lost on 90% of the people who consume resident evil) has super uncomfortable connotations for me as a jewish person.

have your fun I genuinely don’t care enough but it’s my blog and I will post/say whatever I want and if you don’t like it you can block me.

[ilovereadingandstuff]

I find so funny that in a matter of just one episode of 23 (?) minutes long, Link Click manage to consume my whole soul and integrity, crash and hold tight my heart to the point it hurts physically...

and i love it.

I love it when fiction and media somehow manage to me feel things i don't usually never feel in real life.

and, yes, my favorite shows are the ones that make me feel the most, which characters consume my thoughs all day long, they become part of my being, my motives to go on with dailylife routines...

Fiction in all forms is probably the most beautiful lie human can create in such an imperfectly perfect way...

[always-a-joyful-note]

may I also bring this contribution as you wander down the enstars rabbit hole (it's enstars characters and their supposed crimes)

OP I appreciate you so much, but I fear that you are trying to kill me? Just -

Just a few questions.....

- Why are Switch and the seniors of Ryuseitai and Wataru??? on kidnapping?? (wait, did he kidnap Hokuto is that it?) - Wait, what did Tetora and Sora DO? - Midori's in attempted murder?????? WHY??? - What's with forgery?? Why's that on there? Why am I questioning forgery when sexual harassment and murder are RIGHT there??? - Yeah, I still can't believe there's a literal idol duo who is also a mob group.... - "tried to break the windows with an iron pipe" what - of course Hokuto has the ultra specific one (I love him so much. Rich airhead princess to me, so far anyway). - Bullying for Subaru NO what have you DONE starshine boy??? - and at this point I've given up on getting mentally tortured by the others

I am eternally grateful for this list. Why did it have to exist? OP, come back here and let's just talk - actually. No, I desperately want to sit down with the writers and ask what they've experienced to do this.

[gillianthecat]

Bed Friend really kinda IS A Little Life lite.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"... SACRIFICED AT THE ALTAR OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY."

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on promotional images for the 7 inch action figure, Moribundi, part of Clive Barker's Tortured Souls 2, released by McFarlane in October 2002.

Brand: Clive Barker's Tortured Souls

Genre: Horror & Fantasy

Product Type: Action Figure

Series: Clive Barker's Tortured Souls 2

"Moribundi is in the unfortunate position of being sacrificed at the altar of science and technology."

-- MCFARLANE TOYS, c. fall 2002

Sources: https://mcfarlane.com/toys/moribundi & FiguresWorld.

[elvesofnoldor]

.

[jakkon-and-rose-topic]

MASTER POST - Chronological Order :]

Here's my new master post!

[NEWS: THIS WRITING AND BLOG ARE OUTDATED AND NEED TO BE FIXED, BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO READ ANYWAY]

My main blog & Where the story has transitioned to is @the-ellia-west

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Characters

Ronan Calderis - A young male elf who wants to reinstate the true king on the throne because he hates the current Tyrant's guts and wants to say fuck you to Mangrove (he wants to find the true king out of spite basically) 17 in human years

Mangrove - A lower god of Stories, legends, chance, and lies who is a huge fan of gambling, pulling pranks, and switching or subverting fate. (Has a huge rivalry with Ronan for some reason) 18 in human years

Finn - A Harpy messenger who doesn't have a lot to do and wants to help anywhere he can. The default leader of the group. 31 in human years

Morena - An elven witch who is kind and formal to everyone, trying to help wherever she can with her magic and potions. She has a major crush on Finn. 30 in human years

Wildrun (Wild) - A Phantom, A Noble's son, who really dislikes his adoptive abusive family. He just wants to be free and alone. 17 in human years

Phenik - A Chimera Prince who was cast from his home for some fate thing he was never told about, so he became a wandering traveller on search of a purpose in his life. 17 in human years

Jakkon (Jak, Horns) - A Satyr and certified Whumpee who's been through hell and back and isn't done suffering. Needs hugs but won't take them. Very self-destructive. 31 in human years (not the MC but I'm obsessed with him)

Rosenia (Rose, Petals) - A Female Rose-themed Fae and Jak's sister-in-law. She's tired and stressed and wants to help make the world a better place. 29 in Human years.

Eveny (Evie, Ev) - Jak's wife. Female Lilac-themed Fae Who was 2 years younger than Rose. She was very adorable and sweet before she died.

Rune (Runie) - Eveny and Jak's son. He was about 3 or 4 in human years when he died and was a very sweet, innocent little baby.

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PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS

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Scenes (More to be added) - They're in Chronological order here, but a few of them have large time skips due to me not writing the scenes between them

(No longer Canon to the up-coming comic at this point in time)

Love - Jak and Eveny Just after their Wedding

Grief - Jak after Eveny's death

Gone - Jak and Rose at Eveny's Funeral

Injuryyyy - Jak's Return after TRAUMA

Forget - Jak's intro to Alchoholism After TRAUMA

Empty - Is Life worth living anymore?

History - This one takes place on a mundane evening before the inciting incident

- (Flashbacks stop here)

Arena - Jak and Rose's intro from someone else's POV

Morena - Jak talks to Morena after Rose left to Help Finn with Something

Phenik - Phenik joins the crew

Rivalry - Jak and Wild's Rivalry

Prank - Jak's first Good night of sleep in a while

Eynalis - The party

-[The Loss]

A Night out #1 - Half the Crew go into town

A Night out #2 - >:]]

Defense - Jak kills a guy

Gift - Rose & Jak Wholesome Moment

-[The Scene I'm still putting off]

Letting go - Jak Tells Rose To forget him

Argument - Tension

Anniversary - Jak and Eveny's Anniversary was also Eveny's Birthday

Immortality - The Story only ends when they're forgotten

(Other Stuff)

A Memory

What Used to Be

Rune's Fate

Eveny's Fate

Jak's Fate (?)

Fae and Nonhuman Details

How everybody met

Jak's Psychology #1

Jak's Psychology #2

Jak being a Dick Compilation

Surprisingly accurate Picrew

Description of Jak from Eveny's eyes

Dialogue Test Sheets

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Go follow @corinneglass @i-hate-happy-endings @fantasy-things-and-such @cybercelestian @pastellbg

@nkikio @darkandstormydolls @aalinaaaaaa @thelazywitchphotographer @ash1223456

[heesingshoon]

My favorite fanfictions and who they're by. @ja3yun will be 99.99999% of these... Tbh...

WARNING!!! MDNI BECAUSE IT'S ALL SMUT. ALL. ALL SMUT.

Smut

Not series.

Kiss me through the phone - @heeseungsbm

Hehehehehehhehee... :3 hehe. Hehe hehehe Heheheheh he. Heeseung smut :3

Fuck buddy Sunghoon - @heeseungsbm

It's just a drabble about Fuck buddy Sunghoon and honestly it's so good.

Fuck buddy Jake - @heeseungsbm

SO IS THIS ONE

In safe hands - @ja3yun

AJ!!!!!! THE WRITER YOU ARE!!!!

Stretch it out - @ja3yun

No because like... FIGURE SKATER TEACHING BALLET IS SO SMART IT'S INSANE—

Dirty, Dirty girl - @minhosimthings

You ever wanna fuck bad boy Hoon? Anyway...

Series

Doll House - @ja3yun

A Hyung line series that has me hooked. I reread it when I'm down. VERY SMUTTY... :3 We love that here.

Melting point - @ja3yun

This one right here is honestly my favorite fan fiction series... Of all time... It's like... PEAK SERIES. It's a sunghoon series where hoon and your brother are childhood enemies and you fall for Sunghoon. But that's just like... Part of the plot... It's smutty, as one does, but the storyline is so good it's actually insane. I forgot it was a smutty series until I got the smut, honestly.

I'm a virgin, not a murderer - @ja3yun

THIS ONE IS SO GOOD. READ IT. >:[ I'm kidding, obviously, I'm not forcing you to read it. BUT IT'S SO CRAZY GOOD IT'S INSANE.

Devil Knights' Prey - @dollyyun

Another VERY SMUTTY Hyung line series that I reread a lot. Very good, very nice, very spicy, very torturous, very GOOD!!

Lucifer - @minhosimthings

I really like this one. So so good. :3 Please, I HIGHLY suggest this one. O2z series.

Tik toks under cut

Here's some tik toks because I can :3

Heeseung edits:

Video one

Video two

Video three

Video four

Video five

Jay edits:

Video one

Video two

Video three

Video four

Video five

Video six

Jake edits:

Video one

Video two

Video three

Video four

Video five

Sunghoon edits:

Video one

Video two

Video three (MY FAVORITE FUCKING EDIT IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHO THINKS I'M INSANE- I NEED THIS EDIT AS A MEAL SO I CAN EAT IT WITH HOW HUNGRY IT MAKES ME)

Video four

Video five

More than one:

Video one - JakeHoon

Video two - HeeHoon

Video three - Jayke (More Jake)

Video four - HeeJake

Video five - JayHoon

Video six - HeeJay

[bunnwis]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

you were lost to shimmer. he was reborn as the herald. yet, despite everything, he still remembered you.

read on ao3

viktor x fem!user. part 1/2 — part 2 will have nsfw content.

sfw, fictional drugs, low religious themes, small plot, romance, hurt/comfort, crying, ex lover, light exhibitionism, soft viktor.

ㅤㅤㅤwith accompanying gifs from the series for immersion purposes. enjoy ♡

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“I will carry the memory of us, even as I leave you behind.”

His words were soft, barely more than a whisper. His hands—once a source of warmth, of comfort—now gripped your shoulders with a quiet finality, pulling you away. You clung to him as if the beat of your heart depended on it, your breath ragged, frantic, as though losing him meant losing yourself.

“No, please, Viktor... don’t go. Don’t leave me here. Take me with you, please...” Your voice broke on the words, hands clawing at his shirt, desperation flooding you. The cracks in your voice were raw, torn by the sobs that shook your chest. The warmth of him slipped through your fingers, replaced by the biting chill of the undercity night. The air, thick with decay, suffocated you, and your sobs echoed in the silence. Without him to hold you, you crumpled, falling to your knees on the rocky floor, the weight of his absence pressing down like the cold that now clung to your skin.

The hollow click of his cane against the cobbled streets echoed as he walked away, each step a painful reminder of the crushing, impending absence of him from your life. The shadows seemed to swallow him whole, but just before he disappeared, he turned. His gaze met yours—heavy, laden with grief, with a silent plea in those sharp golden circles, as if he were silently begging for your forgiveness, not for leaving, but for failing to fulfill the promise of a forever.

　　　　　　　　 　　***

The years dragged by, each one a crushing weight pressing down on you. Without his presence—his steady voice guiding you, his intellect leading you to better choices—you felt yourself spiraling deeper into the void your life had become. Knowing exactly where he was only made it worse: up in Piltover, thriving in the academy, living the life of someone with a future. But there was no way for you to follow him there—not anymore.

The scars told the story better than you could. Angry streaks of purple-red carved into your arms, a testament to the choices you couldn’t undo and the abomination you’d become. Half your face bore the same cruel marks, hidden behind the fall of your hair and the fabric of your cloak. You survived the only way you could, moving quietly through the merciless streets and corners of the undercity. Each day was torture, a waiting game until the vile purple liquid coursed through your veins again. It dulled the pain—physical and emotional—silenced your regrets and memories. For some fleeting moments, it made you feel strong—something almost invincible—in the face of the weakness consuming your flesh and mind.

　　　　　　　　 　　***

You were asleep when it happened, curled up in a makeshift bed inside a flimsy tent shared with a couple of other girls. The arrangement wasn’t comfortable, but it offered safety in numbers—strength against the threats that lurked. A sharp, electrical hum cut through the quiet, jolting you awake. The air shifted suddenly, heavy with a strange static that prickled at your skin. The others stirred in hushed murmurs, their movements stiff with unease.

Wide-eyed, you peeked outside, hiding your face under your hair to not be seen, perceived, acknowledged. A figure stood at the center of the small "commune", cloaked in deep blue, a wooden cane in one hand. The faint glow of dim lights from up the crevice they were in illuminated only his outline. Beside him, a man knelt—someone who looked familiar, yet wrong. You recognized his face, but it was impossible to reconcile it with what you were seeing. There were no scars marring his skin, no tattered rags clinging to his frame. He sat upright, his gaze fixed on the cloaked figure with an expression that bordered on reverence.

The scene unsettled you. Questions stirred at the edge of your mind, but you pushed them away, exhaustion weighing too heavily on your mind for any clear thoughts to form. Instead, you slipped into the growing crowd that formed a loose circle around the figure. Careful and unassuming, almost opportunistically. Like the others, you only hoped for the promise of another dose, and it was enough to keep you lingering, watching, waiting.

The words that left the figure's mouth were spoken in a familiar accent and soothing tone you knew all too well. The realization hitting you like a thunderclap, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to tilt upwards. You felt a cold rush on your head as blood drained from your extremities, leaving your limbs cold and your heart pounding erratically against your ribcage. It couldn't be Viktor, what would he be doing here? He was a scientist now, an academic intellectual, practically adopted by Piltover.

“You need not suffer anymore.”

His voice was soft but resonant, his words final but with hint of empathy behind them, so familiar, yet sharper, more authoritative, more... otherworldly—only deepened the realization that he had changed, for better or worse she had no idea right now. He raised his head, the hood slipping back slightly to reveal more of his face. Viktor’s gaze swept over the gathering, and for a brief, agonizing moment, it landed on you. You saw it—recognition flickering in those sharp, golden eyes. Despite the stark transformation of his body, the way his eyes softened was unmistakably his.

The same golden pupils, framed by sharp eyes that had been blurry and distorted in your memory from the time apart, now stood before you. The weight of it hit you all at once, and your knees buckled beneath you, your body too weary to stay upright. Breath hitched in your throat, as though the very air you breathed had fled away, leaving your lungs to claw and heave. You looked up at him, paralyzed by recognition, disbelief, and... fear.

The murmurs of the crowd swirled around you, a low hum of uncertainty and awe. Their faces blurred as your vision narrowed, the man at the center of it all drawing every last ounce of your focus. How? How could he be here? Had he come for her?

Your eyes widened at the thought and you quickly lowered your head, not in reverence, like the man who had just been healed, but in a desperate attempt to avoid Viktor's gaze—afraid he might recognize you in this pitiful, broken state.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was a gesture that felt both foreign and achingly familiar, a fragment of the Viktor you once knew. His lips parted, and when he spoke, the sound of his voice sent a shiver through you. It still carried that distinctive, comforting accent, but now it was layered with sorrow and regret.

“Моя зайка... I... didn’t expect to see you here.”

Your breath caught in a sharp gasp, your body frozen under the weight of his words, your hands trembling as they rested on top of your bent knees. The nickname, once a sweet whisper in the quiet moments you shared, echoed through your mind like a knife. Years had passed, but hearing it again stirred something within you—an uncomfortable mix of anger, shame, and an painful longing—twisting together until you could no longer tell where one feeling began and the other ended.

You lowered your head, trying desperately to disappear into the ground beneath you, but it was futile. Your body betrayed you, locked in frozen panic. Viktor took a step closer, his movements deliberate but unhurried, the soft hum of his energy pulsing faintly from his changed anatomy. The air around you seemed to thicken with every step he took, each one drawing him nearer, until finally, he knelt before you, and the world around you seemed to completely fall away.

“Look at me,” he urged, his voice a quiet plea that echoed through the silence between you.

For a long moment, you hesitated. Your hands trembled as they instinctively gripped the edge of your cloak, pulling it tighter around your scarred face. You couldn’t let him see you, not like this. But Viktor didn’t falter. Slowly, his transformed hand reached out, the cold metal fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the unnatural chill of his touch. The warmth you once knew was gone, replaced by cold, humming metal, and yet, his eyes—those eyes—still held so much emotion, it made your chest tighten in confusion.

“It’s alright, моя зайка,” he murmured softly. “These scars don’t define you.”

His words were gentle, but they stirred something deep inside you, something you couldn’t suppress no matter how hard you tried.

"Do not call me that..." Your voice broke, thick with emotion. "You abandoned me... You left me here to rot..."

When you finally dared to raise your eyes, meeting his gaze, you found him studying you—not with judgment, nor disgust, but with an almost painful tenderness that made your heart ache. You felt a surge of anger, bitter and sharp. How could you not? He had chosen a life for himself in Piltover, a life that brought progress and success, while you were left here, lost, broken, decaying.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the words unsaid hanging in the air, too painful to voice. You wanted to push him away, to scream at him for abandoning you, for leaving you to rot in the undercity while he built a new life in Piltover. But the sight of him—different, yet somehow the same—tugged at something deep within you. The anger still burned, but beneath it, something else flickered—something fragile, something you didn’t want to face.

Viktor extended his hand toward you, his cold metallic fingers hovering just above your scarred cheek. He studied you carefully, the glow of Hextech energy pulsing faintly around his fingertips, casting a strange light on the bruised and broken skin that you had come to hate. You flinched instinctively, but there was no hostility in his gesture. No demand, no force. His eyes, though distant, softened—if only for a moment—as his hand hovered closer, almost like a gesture of apology as his fingers traced a scar on your cheek, gentle and reverent. “I never wanted to leave you,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “But I couldn’t stay, Любимая. Not when I could do more... when I could make a difference.”

You swallowed hard, fighting to keep the tears from rising. Make a difference. He had chosen progress, a future that didn’t involve you. It had to be for the greater good, but what of the cost? What of you?

He paused, his eyes tracing the jagged streaks that marred your skin. "I never meant for you to suffer..." The words felt like a weight, but a hollow one. Did he really not know? Did he really not understand?

“Let me help you, моя любовь” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with an almost imperceptible sadness. The words, though calm, seemed to hang between you like a fragile bridge, barely holding together the tension of the moment. “Please,” he whispered again, his hands guiding your face to look up at him, he was do close, and she could only see his eyes and the honesty in them. “Let me help you heal,” Viktor said, his voice low and steady. His hands hovered just above yours, close enough for you to feel a faint warmth radiating from him.

You opened your mouth, wanting to protest, to tell him that it was too late for help, too late for any of this. But before you could speak, his hands gently guided your face upward, urging you to meet his gaze. His touch was softer than you expected, a stark contrast to the cold metal of his body, and you found yourself obeying, despite every instinct screaming at you to look away, to run. His face was close now, and all you could see were his eyes—those sharp golden pupils that had once been full of warmth and promise, now shadowed by something that seemed impossibly ancient. But the honesty in them, the rawness in the depths of his gaze, pulled at something deep within you. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. There was a weight in his stare that felt like the entire world had shifted between you, and in that space, you felt the unbearable tug of both pain and longing. The crowd—those few still watching—seemed to hold their breath in silence, as though caught in the web of your silent exchange. But they were nothing more than shadows, now. Viktor’s presence consumed everything, and the murmur of voices around you seemed distant, irrelevant, as though this was the only moment that mattered. The air between you felt charged, alive with every unsaid word, every question that had been left unanswered for so long. Your mind screamed in protest, telling you that you had every right to hate him, to demand an explanation for his absence. But his hands, steady and certain, held your face with a tenderness that seemed to erase every barrier you had built. And as you stared into his eyes, something inside you began to crumble.

The dam inside you had cracked, and the words spilled out—fragile, trembling, as if saying them aloud might shatter what little remained of your composure. "Please... Help me..." You begged, your voice barely above a whisper, but thick with a desperation you could no longer conceal.

For a moment, Viktor remained silent, his gaze softening further, his eyes reflecting a weight of regret and longing that mirrored your own. It was as if the weight of your words landed on him with the same crushing force they had on you. The air between you was thick with every unsaid word, every wound that had never been healed, every second of the years they'd been apart. Your mind screamed in protest, telling you that you had every right to be angry, to demand answers for the years of abandonment. But his hands, steady and sure, cradled your face with a tenderness so soft, it began to blur the lines between what you wanted to believe and what you had to face.

His skin seemed to hum with an energy all its own, glowing faintly in a deep purple hue that emanated from his underneath his skin. The strange warmth of Arcane energy filled the space between you, vibrant and charged with an ethereal power. Slowly, Viktor extended his hand toward your forehead, his cold, metal fingers hovering just above your skin.

You held your breath, feeling the weight of his presence, of the years that had passed, all of it converging in this single moment. His eyes fluttered shut, and with the gentleness of a prayer, his fingers pressed to your skin.

The hum of energy intensified, filling your ears with a soft but insistent buzz that seemed to reverberate through your very bones. The air around you seemed to stir, light swirling and pulling at the fibers of your being. It was as if he was pulling something from deep within you, all the grief, all the regret, all the pain that had carved its way into your soul and body.

Your body tensed with the sensation, but you could do nothing but surrender to it, to the almost overwhelming energy coursing through your veins. You closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips as the purple light that surrounded you began to fade, replaced by a soft, golden glow.

When Viktor finally withdrew his hand, the silence was profound, as if the world itself held its breath. He opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that was both reverent and filled with sorrow. There was no need for words now—the weight of everything unsaid between you was carried in the soft warmth of the healing light that lingered on your skin. You opened your eyes slowly, staring at him in a daze, your breath shallow. Five faint golden prints appeared on your forehead, marking the place where the darkness had been lifted from your soul. You could feel the weight of the past slip away, and with it, a quiet peace began to settle in your chest. You had been cleansed—by him, by the herald.

Before you could speak, before the silence could stretch any longer, he stepped closer. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the smooth, healed skin as if to verify the change, despite a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead from the toll taken on him by the healing process.

“Forgive me, Душа моя, I was foolish to ever abandon you. I never once stopped thinking of you.” His words hung in the air, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe him. The walls that had held you together, kept you from falling apart, were crumbling now. You didn’t know how, but in that moment, you knew it was time to let go.

And then, as if time slowed, he leaned forward, his lips hovering just above yours. His breath mingled with yours, warm and faint, his gaze fluttering from your lips to your eyes, as if pleading to continue—reassuring you, before he closed the distance, pressing his lips gently against yours in a kiss that was both soft and desperate, as an unspoken apology.

For a brief, fragile moment, you allowed yourself to fall into it—the warmth of the connection, the touch. The kiss was a promise, a frail bridge across the years, and, as it ended, you were left breathless, your mind still hazy with the remnants of the energy that cleansed you. You leaned into him, your forehead gently resting against his as you both shared the same quiet breath. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in that brief, delicate moment of peace.

“And I.. never stopped loving you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the years of longing, of pain, of hope for what would come next, but also with fear that he'd leave again now.

Viktor didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His gaze said everything. The weight of the years apart, the hurt, the anger—it was all there, but it no longer felt insurmountable. There was a chance now. A chance to heal together beyond the physical sense.

And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to believe in that possibility.

You looked down, your fingers tracing the cold, metallic surface of his chest, which now seemed more like of a machine than of a man. The once familiar warmth had been replaced by an alien chill, but there was still a pulse beneath your fingertips—an unmistakable sign that the man you loved was still alive, still with you, though in a form you hardly recognized. The shock of the moment was starting to settle, and with it came an overwhelming tide of questions, each more urgent than the last. You could feel it, deep in your bones: something was wrong. The Viktor you had loved, the one who had gone to Piltover with dreams of advancing technology, was now unrecognizable—not just in his appearance, but in the very essence of who he had become.

Your breath caught as your gaze lifted to meet his. His golden eyes, now swirling with an iridescent glow, were far removed from the gentle warmth you had once known. This was not the same Viktor who had whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the one who had shared dreams and doubts with you. This... this was something else entirely.

Your fingers brushed his cheek, where the same marks now marred his skin—marks not unlike those of the people he healed. It was as if he had become one of them, a vessel for something greater. A soft sigh escaped you as you met his gaze again, those golden eyes dancing with a glow that was foreign to the Viktor you had known. The eyes that once held tenderness and love now glimmered with a distant, almost otherworldly intensity. You reached up, your hand trembling slightly as it traced the sharp contours of his face—marked with the same strange symbols. The transformation was complete, yet the man beneath it still seemed to long for something, something you weren’t sure you could understand.

The question escaped your lips before you could stop it, tender and filled with unspoken desperation, and a hint of pity behind your gaze. “Oh, Viktor... What happened to you?”

[sonnet009games]

OUT NOW: Incubus Chapter 5!

You are a demon hunter. He is an incubus. A fateful meeting, a deal struck, and neither of your lives will ever be the same.

Demonology: Incubus is an episodic interactive fiction series, featuring:

a customizable male/female/non-binary protagonist

a male love interest

explicit, interactive sex scenes

Chapter 5 is 24,000+ words / 80 minutes (approx) and follows the detective and their partner Flea the incubus as they investigate a new rash of disappearances that hits a little close to home.

Platform: PC/Mac

Rating: 18+

Price: $1.00 per chapter

Content warning for Chapter 5: 

Explicit sexual content | Explicit language | Threat | Violence | Injury | Blood | Death | Gore | Torture | Mutilation | Substance addiction | Cannibalism | Transactional sex

THIS GAME IS FOR ADULTS ONLY

(Note: The sexual content in Incubus is not optional. Player discretion advised.)

PURCHASE INCUBUS: CHAPTER 5

Browse previous chapters

Download Chapter 1 for free

[jedimaesteryoda]

Every once in a while on Twitter (not X, Elon can go screw himself), someone circulates a complaint about A Song of Ice and Fire that is basically some version of "GRRM's series is nihilistic where everyone is gray, there are no heroes and villains, or heroes die and villains win compared to Tolkien's magnum opus where there are clear heroes and villains with the heroes being upright and good always wins."

It's written by people who either never read nor understood the series nor understands the author.

Firstly, Martin himself is a fan of Tolkien stating "I revere Lord of the Rings, I reread it every few years, it had an enormous effect on me as a kid," and is such a huge fan of Tolkien he complains of "Tolkien imitators" who "cheapened it. The audience were being sold degraded goods. I thought: 'This is not how it should be done.' "

Tolkien was a clear inspiration for Martin's magnum opus given in the same interview he stated "I wanted to combine the wonder and image of Tolkien fantasy with the gloom of historical fiction." You can even find nods to Tolkien throughout the series from names like "Oakenshield" to a dwarven heir to a mighty mountain fastness filled with gold. Underneath the gloom on the surface, there is a layer of Tolkien-esque romanticism.

ASOIAF isn't nihilistic. No one would call characters like war criminal and murderer-rapists like Gregor Clegane, Ramsay Bolton and Euron Greyjoy or the vivisectionist and torturer Qyburn morally grey. There are heroes like Brienne of Tarth who risked her life in a hopeless fight to save an inn full of orphans, Sam who stayed with Gilly and her babe beyond the Wall in a forest filled with wights and Dunk who defended a puppeteer from a prince. Then, there is Daenerys whose experience as a domestic abuse victim and child bride lead her to put her plan to take back the Iron Throne on hold to liberate slaves.

My own heroes are the dreamers, those men and women who tried to make the world a better place than when they found it, whether in small ways or great ones. Some succeeded, some failed, most had mixed results… but it is the effort that’s heroic, as I see it. Win or lose, I admire those who fight the good fight. -George R.R. Martin

These characters go out of their way to help others and live up to their ideals in a world they know won't reward them for it. That's what helps to make their actions truly heroic. In the end, it's their striving that sets them apart.

The ones who are villains don't seem to win in the end. Tywin was killed by his own abused son on the privy over his mistreatment of a peasant girl, and his legacy is already crumbling. Jaime lost his sword hand and is becoming increasingly disillusioned with his house, slowly realizing that they're not the good guys. The Boltons are facing a rebellion and their new bannermen don't want Ramsay as their liege lord. More Freys have been killed as a result of the Red Wedding than fighting for Robb, and they're being overextended. Not to mention, one of their victims has come back from the dead to enact vengeance on their house. House Greyjoy is destined to fall to ruin as the Greyjoys suffer and die in their fruitless pursuits for crowns.

It's also a superficial reading of Tolkien. Tolkien has moments in his series where heroes fail like Isildur, the guy who slew Sauron, failing to do the one thing he needed to do to end the threat for all time by keeping the One Ring, and Frodo, the purported hero of the series, doing the same thing at the end. Thorin Oakenshield refused to provide money to the people of Lake-town over the destruction of their city at Smaug's hands as a result of his party's actions. There's also plenty of stories of heroes failing in The Silmarillion like Turin.

Both are great series in their own right, and if you don't like Martin's series, that's okay, no series is for everyone. But don't mischaracterize it and pit it against a dumbed down, mischaracterized version of Tolkien's work.