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jedi-lothwolf · 4 months

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June of Doom Day 3: Ambushed

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: we're resting in a village before continuing with their mission, the batch faces an unforeseen event.

"Thank you." Hunter told the Tagrutan lady as his squad entered her home. They had been in the woods near her village as night felt. While Tech tried to stabilize Crosshair's broken leg, the women and her wife had stumbled upon them. Then she invited them back to her home, offering to let them stay the night so that they could take care of Crosshair's injuries and rest.

"Of course, anything to help out our troops."

Walking into the living room, they found that one of their hosts had pulled out a pull out coach. There were light sheets on the mattress and a few small decorative pillows.

"Stay still." Tech told Crosshair. "You have broken your Tibia, I need to stabilize it so you don't make it any worse."

Crosshair just scowled. Tech instructed Wrecker to move their brother's leg into the mattress. The batches host brought them some water and bread. She handed them out to each clone before informing them that her and her wife would be heading to bed. "Wake us up if you need anything or before you leave."

"We will." Hunter sat in one of the corners of the sofa bed and ate his bread. The soldiers talked about their next move and how to complete their mission.

As Tech finished wrapping Crosshair's leg, Hunter spoke. "We have a long day ahead of us, get some rest."

It was a few hours later when Hunter woke up. Tiredly, he went to find what was making the noise. Walking to the door of the house, he looked out the window. There seemed to be nothing there. However the rhythmic clanking of battle droids was the only thing Hunter could hear.

It wouldn't be the first time that the man heard something that wasn't there. Maybe he should wake up Tech to get his opinion. Walking back over to the living room, he gently shook Tech awake.

"Do you hear that?"

"What should I be hearing?"

"Droids."

"I do not hear any droids, however you hear better than in do. I think it best we check." Standing from the corner of the sofa be occupied, Tech grabbed his shoes and put them on. Falling his brother's lead, Hunter grabbed his shoes and put them on. Quickly, as he had done a million times before, he tried them.

Standing back up, Hunter walked to the door. Tech stood beside it. They had never bothered taking off their armor, just in case they needed to leave quickly.

The air outside was vastly different from the warth of the house. It was a chilly night, one where the cold air bit you. Tech made sure Hunter was okay with the quick temperature change. He was more sensitive to fast changes the environment. After his brother nodded, the two walked into the surrounding woods.

The pine trees stood tall around them. The night sky was dark with stars littered across it. The clones walked towards the sound of the noise until they no longer heard the sound. It hadn't faded, just holited. Tech and Hunter looked at each other and they came to the same realization.

They were surrounded.

Hunter had been so sure that he was imagining things; so sure it was just his mind playing cruel jokes on him, that he hadn't thought to wake up Wrecker. Now they had to hold off an ambush on their own.

Just as they thought, the droids revealed themselves as the two soldiers drew their blasters. Ducking behind a tree, Hunter took out the droids that had landed on the clear side of the tree. The pleasant scent of the pine trees was taken over by the smell of oil and melted metal.

Grabbing Tech, Hunter pulled him behind the tree. "Wrecker, come in."

While waiting for a reply from their younger brother, they started to take out as many droids as they could. More droids just seemed to replace the others.

As Tech leaned over the tree, he remembered the empty space from where the droids Hunter had taken out had stood. More than likely, others would take their place. Of course, he was correct. Shooting the one that was about to kill Hunter, he caught a bullet to his left shoulder blade. Hunter disposed of the droid before asking "are you okay?"

"I was shot in the left scapula at an approximate distance of fifty feet" Tech hissed, "I am not okay."

"Wrecker, now would be a good time!"

Waking up, Wrecker looked down at his comm, then over to the empty corners of the sofa. Finally registering the panic in Hunter's voice, he answered.

"What's going on?"

"Droids. A lot of them. Tech's been shot but he's still conscious, just in pain."

Already walking out the door, Wrecker asked "where are you?"

"Just follow the sound of blaster fire." Hunter sighed. It shouldn't take long for Wrecker to find them. It had taken 20 minutes to get out as far as they had and they hadn't been running.

"Okay. Be there soon." With that, Wrecker turned off his comm.

With more droids coming from all sides, Tech tried to think of a plan. The pain in his shoulder seemed to be getting in the way of forming many coherent thoughts. They needed a plan, nothing would change that.

Breathing began to be more complicated. Tech looked over at Hunter. "We need a plan."

"You don't have one?" Hunter asked, shooting another few droids before turning to face him. Most of the time, it was almost impossible to tell what Tech was thinking based on his facial expression; however, currently all that Hunter could see was pain and fear.

"No. It is getting very difficult to form cogent thoughts." His voice was shaking as tears had started to form in his eyes from the pain.

"Okay." Shooting some more droids down, Hunter tried to put together a plan. While the batch came up with strategies together and Hunter worked on them often, it was sort of like a hobby for Tech. "We wait." Wrecker would be there soon.

"Okay."

Wrecker ran through the forest. Briers caught on his ankles and rocks stabbed into the bottom of his feet. The sound of blaster fire was getting closer and closer.

As the droids closed in, Hunter looked over at Tech. "How much longer do you think we have?"

Tech shot a droid on their side of the tree, "maybe five minutes. There is only so much we can do. I would" he hissed as he rose his left arm to shoot another droid. "I would comm Wrecker."

"Okay."

The droids cornered them, forcing their backs as far into the tree as they could. The two brothers looked at each other. They had an understanding that they had done all they could. "I'm sorry." Hunter said.

"It is not your fault."

As they prepared for death, they heard a large amount of rustling in the bushes. Hunter sighed as he realized Wrecker had made it in time.

"Raaahhhhhh!" Wrecker burst through the bushes he was around. Plowing through the droids, Wrecker grabbed his gun and started shooting them down. Hunter pulled Tech up and the two helped Wrecker dispose of the rest of the droids.

"I wish you had arrived a moment earlier." Tech sighed, "however I am aware you likely did your best and I am solely talking out of pain."

Gently, Wrecker picked up Tech and the brothers made their way back to the house. When they arrived, Tech informed Hunter of what to do for his shoulder.

Wrecker sat on the couch, pulling his feet onto the bed. "Wrecker" Hunter started, "where are your shoes?"

"I didn't put them on."

"Are you okay?"

Pulling a thorn out of the bottom of his foot, Wrecker said, "yep. I'm good."

"Okay." After finishing taking care of Tech's shoulder, Hunter walked over to Wrecker and bandaged his feet.

The sun would rise soon and the batch would have to continue on with their mission. It would be a success, even with the injuries that had proven to be a challenge for the batch.

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crimsonlyinglilly · 1 month

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Day 11: freedom / scars / insecurity

Day 11 for @augustofwhump

Back to Stolen Three and the fic that really pushed me into writing and posting them all.

Elijah gets a surprised when he wakes up, never one to past up a chance to plan he takes his chance.

Also the beginning to explain what's up with Jackson and Elijah in Stolen Three.

TW- suicide

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This wasn't the first time Elijah had lived in another's body; the last time had been years- three centuries before, when an ambitious witch had attempted to take his power and Elijah had taken his body instead, leaving his original sleeping two months early.

He had sent a letter home to Dahlia knowing he'd face punishment for it eventually but it would have been far worse if he didn’t warn her that he wouldn’t be returning, besides the last thing he had wanted was her to come to look for him he couldn't let her know of this freedom.

He had lived, aged and died, an almost normal life, never truly free of his aunt but for a little he had existed with the world not on the outside as everything shifted every year.

He had been a part of the world as things moved and lived.

He has used his time as well checking on past covens he had worked with once, building future escape routes for his siblings to hide from Dahlia if he managed to free them but not stop her but he had selfishly enjoyed the change in pace.

He hadn’t married or had children even in another’s body; he wouldn't break the promise he had sworn with his siblings or given Dahlia what she wanted.

It had ended though and he woke in his normal body decades later when the century sleep had ended and returned to take Dahlia's anger and Freya and Finn concern, never telling them to protect them from Dahlia warth if she ever learnt that he had hidden it from her.

This wasn't anything like that.

He hadn’t expected it at all, one moment he was preparing for his sleep, concerned over Freya’s lack of return eating at him while trying to plan ways to calm Dahlia's anger when they woke, to buy Finn time to find Freya first.

Then he woke in a bath of cooling bloody water, arms stinging from open fresh cuts that had stopped bleeding but not healed.

A note of desperate apologies and goodbyes from the one who had given up his body for a family legend.

Barely more than a child overwhelmed by expectations that he had taken drastic measures to escape them.

Daniel Cartwright.

Elijah could faintly remember a pair of twins that shared the boy’s surname that he had gathered as part of his temporary coven the last time he had been in New Orleans before he had been warned away by Kol Mikaelson.

Witches in their late teens and early twenties were always searching for something new outside their families rules and traditions and so it was easy for Elijah to tempt them into helping him. He’d share secrets long lost to history to them but had been commonplace to Elijah just a few years before and they would unthinkingly share their family secrets with him.

The family elders always caught on quickly enough and normally ended it after a moon or two and Elijah moved on without a fight he didn’t really have all that much time to waste in one place.

He ignored how similar it made him to Dahlia, who gathered knowledge for her own gain compared to Finn to spend his year free in the arms of his lover and Freya made friends just to be remembered.

This had been the first time he had a vampire set on him to scare him away from a coven’s youth, he had smiled at Kol’s friendly threats and curiosity and wondered if the middle Original vampire brother had noticed their shared looks.

Elijah had grown up knowing he took after their aunt, the odd one out following Freya and Finn’s fairer hair and eyes but he couldn’t help but want to ask what had it been like to be raised by their parents looking like the woman who stole their oldest three.

He hadn’t asked though and when his younger-older brother had tried to stop him, his own interest over what Elijah had been teaching taking over the witches' request to remove him, Elijah had used the power he rarely bothered to knock him out.

Now it seemed one of the twins or more of his temporary coven had passed down enough of his stories to allow a descendant to somehow summon him within their body and sacrifice themselves to trap him there.

It hadn’t taken him long to find the key ingredient to call him, a lock of his hair, he remembered offering a few to those that wanted to try a spell and had needed a little extra power. A century of sleeping, gathering power left it that even his hair could be channelled a short while after he cut it, it held no power now but he was a link to him enough that he had managed to pull him from his own body to this one.

While he had been looking at it, he had noticed his new reflection, tanned, green eyed and short near white blond hair a sharp difference from his normal body, he had stared realising he would have to get used to it. The teenager who this body belonged to had killed themselves to finish the spell leaving the only way for Elijah to return to his own was to do the same.

It would be a waste, the boy’s note had asked him to make use of it, the boy who knew nothing of Elijah, but he was right Elijah had much to do and this was helpful.

A part of him recoiled at the idea of thinking a child’s death as helpful but Elijah for once took comfort in his reflection alien that it was the short pale hair, green eyes and tanned skin looked nothing like Aunt Dahlia, she may have twisted his mind and soul but for a short period he could enjoy a temporary freedom from being her physical copy.

The paper calendar claimed the year 2008, meaning he had a few years before their sleep would end but for someone used to only getting a year it was plenty, he would likely need to end this life since leaving Finn alone with Dahlia was not something Elijah would ever put his big brother through.

Freya got off lighter with Dahlia sometimes being the firstborn and the only one that clearly favoured Esther, Elijah was the youngest and took far to much after her to give her much satisfaction unless she wanted to hurt someone out of self loathing but Finn- when Dahlia wanted to hurt someone for how her life turn out, as the son that took after Mikael, Finn would always her favourite target.

He and Freya both knew Finn couldn’t take that much of her venom, and with Freya missing and Elijah in another body he would be her sole target.

Now he had time to look for Freya, to find out why she failed to return, time to check in on his plans, maybe he could find a way to free his siblings sooner.

He tried to clean up the place, getting used to how much humanity had developed in the time and trying to work out a plan for how he was going to cover up the fact he wasn’t who he should be.

The New Orleans Witches were ancestral witches they pulled their magic from their family and sooner or later they would notice someone was different with him, he’s own magic was tied to Dahlia if he managed to pull and use that, there was a risk she would notice and wake, so that left him what he had done the last time he was in a body not his own, create a anchor within nature of his own. It was old magic and to most not worth it, tying your magic to one source of untapped nature forced to return once a moon, to cement the connection or risk the lashback.

It wasn’t a long term solution the longer one used that source the more damage it would return but Elijah wasn’t looking for anything permanent.

A day and a half after he woke up there came a knock at the door and a concerned voice.

“Daniel! Buddy open up.” a young man’s voice called.

Elijah winced slightly over the fact he was going to have to get used to being called a dead boy’s name for a while before he put his plan in action and stumbled.

Falling in just the right way for his head to the low table; head injuries he knew throughout time had such strange effects like the loss of memories.

He made sure he made enough noise to bring the other person in and knocked himself out with a small pulse of magic turned inward.

It takes days for him to be released, the doctors concerned over his loss of memories and his ‘mental state’ due to his injured wrists, Elijah’s thankful he had the day within the apartment to somewhat familiarise himself with the modern day or his awe may have given him away at the hospital and vast staff in all ranges. The ‘mobile phone’ and ‘laptop’ were a godsend with their easy search abilities even if it had taken him a little bit to get used to them and stop worrying about being electrocuted.

He gave himself a month to work out how to drive and find a way to get to the bayou outside of New Orleans. He remembered it as home to the crescent packs from last time he was in New Orleans and hoped they remained at least neutral with witches to allow him to form an anchor there and let him return every month.

The wounds on his wrist twinge when he leaves, they would heal to a near copy of the scars on Finn’s arms, a reminder Elijah thought as he looked at the bandages. He had a missing sister and a brother left alone with their aunt, he wasn’t letting himself get distracted this time.

Daniel's life may be the key Elijah needed to end Dahlia’s.

#augustofwhump #augustofwhump2024 #day 11 #Freedom #scars #elijah mikaelson #fanfiction #the originals #the vampire diaries #fic #tvd fanfiction #the originals au #the vampire dairies au #tvd #au stolen three #suicide tw

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mentalhomosexual · 1 year

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Warth

SOFT CHANNIE HOURS

Storyline: He has to get up early but you give him a hard time when he tries to leave 🥹

You were sleeping soundly, curled up tightly in a ball with your boyfriend behind you, cuddling you. his body heat and your body heat mixing together to make one big cluster of warth, his low and soft snoring putting you in an even deeper trance, along with the gentle hum of the ac.

you snuggle closer to him and sigh at the amount of comfort you feel in the moment. you feel his arm wrap around you and pull you even closer if possible.

You feel his breath trickle along your neck and that makes fall back into your slumber.

not to long after you feel his soft lips gently pecking at your neck. you open your eyes and turn over to meet his loving gaze.

"baby, I have to get ready to go now"

you smile as he remembered to wake you up before he left. you hate waking up to him not being next you and he knows that even though sometimes he goes against your word and let's you sleep.

you groan and pull him in for a hug and close your eyes to go back to sleep.

"baby I really have to go"

you ignore his protest and stay silent. you feel him try to pull away and you groan again.

"Just stay for ten more minutes...pleaseee~"

you pout your lips at him and close your eyes once again, you hear him sigh and feel him snuggle close to you again

you smile in satisfactory as you feel his arm wrap around your waist and pull you close to him once again.

you're secretly hoping he oversleeps and has no choice but to stay but you know how seriously he takes his work.

you both sleep for about 15 more minutes and by this time your positions have changed, you are now snuggled up to his chest while he has you cradled in both his arms, suddenly you hear his alarm go off....again. when the past 10 minutes passed you convinced him for 5 more (poor boy can never say no 💔) you purposely grab onto his hoodie tightly so when he attempts to leave, he cant. (😈)

he groans awake and stops the alarm. he opens his eyes and they instantly lock with yours

"I know you don't want me to leave but promise i'll be back before you know it"

you pout, knowing he's right but you've just missed him so much and you wanna spend more time with him but you trust that after work he will spend all the time in the world with you.

you nod, indicating you understand and you'll let him leave (for now) he smiles at you warmly, finding your clinginess so adorable

"I love you" he says as he kisses your check

you're tempted to be a brat and not say it back because you're upset that he is so set on leaving you but you know he would never hurt you intentionally.

you sigh as you flip around and say a low 'I love you too', trying to go back to sleep

"oh come on baby, don't be like that" he chuckles at your immediate mood change, you stay silent still focusing on continuing your slumber.

"I would stay for another couple of minutes but i'm already late..."

you still don't respond but he knows you understand, he kisses you on the cheek one last time before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

You eventually fall back a sleep but not too soon after you hear the bathroom door open, which wakes you up and then you feel his lips plant on your forehead and nose as he whispers 'I love you' again before quickly leaving.

you smile to yourself and slowly drift back to sleep, feeling somewhat at ease from his kisses... you can't wait to see him when he comes home

💔💔💔💔💔

#CHAN COME HOME #stray kids #straykids scenarios #bang chan #bang chris #skz bang chan #soft hours #i miss him #WE MISS YOU BABY #this drought chan is putting us through is kicking my ass #christopher bahng #SOFT CHANNIE

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ao3feed-skystar · 7 months

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Syarscreams warth and new beginnings

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/YSUrfcT by Misstinyscarlett I do not own transformers or its characters, I will own my ocs, I do not own the videos or pictures, I would like criticism, no hate comments Starscream realized that his goal of commanding the Decepticons would never be achievable, once he hearars Megatron say that he is disbanding the cause, because he now understands oppression and has lost his taste for it, because he was "oppressed" by Unicron Starscream calls Megatron on his slag, he fly to Dark mount only to be killed by Pedaking and his minions, he sees his life flash before his optics and sees his many mistakes wishing he could have changed. Starscream expects to be in the pit, only to open hid optics and realize he's aluve again, but with a twist he was sparked in the wrong age, now in the past he experiences new hardships and war. Starscream experiences new friendships and enemies, he also gains apprentices, along the way he gets a minicon and human pet, Megatronus gain an obsession of Starscream because of his different personality, Starscream becomes Orion Pax childhood friend.. Starscream wants to rule over Vos not just for the sake of it anymore, but to help his people. Words: 8464, Chapters: 3/100, Language: English Fandoms: Transformers: Prime, Transformers - All Media Types, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2001), Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Starscream (Transformers), Optimus Prime, Megatron (Transformers), Jetfire | Skyfire (Transformers), Trepan (Transformers), Ratchet (Transformers), Cryak (Transformers), Slipstream (Transformers), Orion Pax, Sentinel Prime (Transformers), Steve the Eradicon (Transformers), Predaking (Transformers), Shockwave (Transformers), Soundwave (Transformers), Thundercracker (Transformers), Skywarp (Transformers), Alexis, Makeshift (Transformers), Blitzwing (Transformers), Cyclonus (Transformers) Relationships: Optimus Prime/Starscream, Megatron/Starscream (Transformers), Jetfire | Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers), Breakdown/Knock Out (Transformers), Starscream/Windblade (Transformers), Breakdown/Knock Out/Starscream (Transformers), Overlord/Trepan (Transformers), Starscream/Steve the Eradicon (Transformers), Predaking/Starscream (Transformers), Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker (Transformers) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Timelines, Fluff and Angst, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cybertronian Culture (Transformers), Sign Language, Cybertronian Politics (Transformers), Pre-Cybertronian Civil War, Post-Cybertronian Civil War, Cybertronian Senate (Transformers), Blindness read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/YSUrfcT

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Skyfire #Starscream #SkyStar #Jetfire

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ao3feed-babylon5 · 9 months

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Sigh… I lost a fantastic fanfic and I can’t find it to save my life. I’m now calling in the B5 Ivanova/ Talia army to help me out. Reward for finding the fic is my undying love and loyalty.

Synopsis : Ivanova has a daughter & is going back to earth with Talia on a ship. Talia and Ivanova are not dating at the beginning of the fic but that changes. Susan is a commander of an outpost on warth, and invited Talia to spent the week with them both at her house. There is a scene with Talia playing with Susan’s daughter in the rain after Talia borrows some of Susan’s clothes so she can.

They celebrate Rosh Hashanah together and there is a scene where they are in a creek and a water/splash “fight” happens. It’s fun and then Talia over thinks it until Susan says it’s the perfect way to bring in a new year and they finally kiss. Eventually Susan’s daughter calls Talia mom one night as she’s going to bed and Susan is in the doorway and hears it. That solidifies everything for her and they finally hook up.

There is slight angst but not a ton. I believe it has nine chapters. At the end, Susan buys a ring and asks Talia to marry her.

Please Help 😂

No idea, but maybe someone else can help!

#asks #azariahj

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ajentmm · 1 year

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Theorycrafting the Elyos Royals FEH Part 1

Emblem, Engage!

I'm doing something new here (unless you see my old fanmade Heroes sprites), making theory crafting new heroes. I’m going off of my predictions from a while ago and I’m starting with Elyos royals, hence the title. Also, the royals on the box art will be getting the same treatment as Alfred, a Rearmed unit with a Pref skill, named after their perf skill. Let’s Engage! (not in a marry sort of way (unless))

Unoffical sprite made by archsage

Diamant: Brodia’s Successor

Sword – Infantry – Fire Emblem: Engage – 5 Star ReArmed

45/46/36/37/20

The Crowned Prince of Brodia is massively popular character from Engage by sheer husbando merit alone. His personal class makes him a modified Hero class that gives him Sol. He came with high HP, Strength, and Defense, with good Speed and Build to reliably avoid being double. This overall balance of a melee unit makes him adaptable to many Emblems and Skills to inherit. His stats above reflex that, with higher the average HP, the new max Atk, and even Spd and Def. His weakness to Magic is something he will share with Alfred.

Arcane Jian: Accelerates Special trigger (cooldown count-1). If unit's HP ≥ 25%, inflicts Atk/Def-6 on foe during combat, deals damage = 15% of unit's Atk (including when dealing damage with a Special triggered before combat), reduces damage before and during combat by attack by 40% (excluding Røkkr area-of-effect Specials), and grant unit a guaranteed follow-up attack.

Well, I was late to make an arcane sword that gave NFU, so I when with a more tank sword. After that, you get true damage base on your Atk instead of Spd, and reduce damage from all of foe’s attack. While Arcane Lúin is perfect for Speedy units, this is for slow heavy-hitter units.

Fair Fight: If foe initiates combat or foe can counterattack, grant unit Atk/Spd/Def/Res+8 during combat and reduce damage from foe's second attacks and onward by 80%. If unit's HP ≥ 75% and unit initiates combat, foe can counterattack before unit's first attack. After combat, if unit’s HP = 100%, unit is dealt 1 damage.

Now for the perf. From Diamint’s personal skill from Engage gives him and his opponent extra Hit chance when he initiates. It’s a double edge sword that could be used in your favor to intentionally take damage and use Wrath or Reprisal. But since he has Sol, it can be mitigated if he triggers on the follow-up, or better, on his one hit when using a Smash weapon. For this, he gets all these stats and damage reduction on follow-up attacks (like Brave Ike) when he in combat with a foe that can hurt him (no initiating on 2 range foes, that’s an unfair fight).

Sol – Fair Fight – Warth 4 – Joint Close Def

So I’m popping both my theorycrafted Warth 4 and Joint Close Def, which isn’t even in the game yet like come on. I’m also changing my HP ≤ 90% to HP ≤ 99% because why not at this point. I gave him the deal 1 damage in his A slot for that reason.

Wrath 4: If unit's attack can trigger their Special, grant the following: At start of turn, if unit's HP ≤ 99%, grants Special cooldown count-1. At the start of combat, if unit's HP ≤ 99%, deals +10 damage when Special triggers and neutralize effects that inflict "Special Cooldown charge-X" on unit during combat. After combat, if unit's HP ≤ 99%, grants Special cooldown count-1.

Joint Close Guard: Grants Def/Res+4 to allies within 2 spaces during combat against sword, lance, axe, dragonstone, or beast foes. If unit is within 2 spaces of an ally and foe uses sword, lance, axe, dragonstone, or beast damage, grants Def/Res+4 to unit during combat.

Yeah, he’s a bit of a mess, falling into the same problem Alfonse had where you intentionally take damage, get more powerful, then heal back up in a loop. But the loop cuts short when the guy you fight is at max power when at full health. I did mitigate it by having the HP condition be 1 point of damage, and making him take 1 point of damage.

Unoffical sprite made by archsage

Alcryst: Inferior Complex

Colorless Bow - Infantry - Fire Emblem: Engage – 5 Star

38/44/43/30/27

Fittingly, the second prince of Brodia is behind in popularity behind his big bro Diamant. The last two infantry archers we got in heroes since the BST boost from CYL were Eti (with the highest Atk) and Kiragi (tied with highest Spd). They are both 3-4 stars. Our 5 star locked boy, is going to compete with these two by having one less then both of those unit’s best stats, cuz he needs to be inferior is some way. His unique class, Tireur d'élite, is best known for spamming Luna better than any of the other characters with unique trigger skill classes. So, I have . . . basically made him the bow version of ReArmed Ophilea.

Eilte Bow: Effective against flying foes. Accelerates Special trigger (cooldown count-1). If foe initiates combat with an ally within 2 spaces, grant that ally Def/Res+5 during combat, and after combat, grant unit Atk/Spd/Def/Res +6 for 1 turn and also, if unit’s Special is at its maximum value, grant Special count-1. If unit initiate combat or is within a 2 tile radius of an ally, grant bonus to unit’s Atk/Spd/Def/Res = 4 + current bonus on each of unit's stats during combat. Calculates each stat bonus independently.

Alcryst’s personal skill is “Get behind me!” Where in, If an nearby ally is attacked during enemy phase, Alcryst get a one turn Attack boost. Since that’s nothing, I gave if a full +6 and Time Pulse when an ally is attacked. I also included a Drive Bracing Stance, which pairs well with Joint Close Guard. From there, he’s just gets another boost in combat that comes with bonus doubler. So that’s like, +16 to all stats.

Luna - Special Spiral 4 – Joint Distant Guard

After that, he has is signature Luna, along with Special Spiral 4 and Joint Distant Guard to further protect your allies and yourself against the foe's you can counter attack against. No A slot skill though.

Unoffical sprite by archsage

Ivy: Elusive Lindwurm

Green Tome – Flying – Fire Emblem: Engage – 5 Star ReArmed

39/44/36/25/29

The Crown Princess of Elusia and avatar worshiper, Ivy is here. She’s known for using tomes, riding a wyvern, having surprising balanced stats for a mage, a purple outfit with a boob window, and . . . is this Camila, or am I mistaking her for Zephia? Anyway, I had three idea’s for her, one is Chapter 8 appearance where she used Emblem Leif to Vantage tank your team, the second is based on her recruitment chapter, where she used the Lyn ring and used Alacrity (or Spd check Desperation) to two tap foes, and the third is “Why not both?” That’s the worst option, but if she gets a Legendary or Summer alt, that’s what it would be. As for this build, we have two Vantage mage fliers in the form of B!Bylth and Ninja!Camila, while we have three mages with Desperation, with Spring!Delthia, B!Lysithia, and Winter!Lysithia, none of them are fliers. And I know Ivy is more bulk than Spd, but we still need her to be meta.

Arcane Excalibur: Accelerates Special trigger (cooldown count-1). If unit's HP > 25%, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+5 to unit, inflict penalties on foe's Spd/Res = penalties active on foe's Spd/Res during combat (Calculate stats independently), and reduces damage from foe's first attack by 40% during combat, and also, if unit's Spd > foe's Spd, neutralizes effects that guarantee foe's follow-up attacks and effects that prevent unit's follow-up attacks during combat.

This is an Arcane tome built for Speedy tome users that also further increases her damage and Spd by doubling the Spd/Res penalties. Then there’s the 30% DR and NFU we saw on the other Arcane weapons. Next, it’s Ivy’s perf B slot skill.

Single Minded: Enables [Canto (1)]. Inflicts Spd/Res-4 on foe during combat, and if no effect neutralizes penalties to foe's Spd/Res, inflicts penalty on foe's Spd/Res during combat = 6 - current penalty on foe's Spd/Res (min: 0). Calculate stats independently. Inflicts Spd/Res-6 on foe through its next action after combat. If unit initiate combat penalties and unit’s Spd > foe’s Spd - X, unit's follow-up attack occurs before foe's counterattack (X= active penalties on foe’s Res).

So, I gave her a very player phased focused B slot. She has Canto 1. She has Spd/Res Seal 4, in that she inflicts - 10 Spd/Res if the foe can't neutralize penalties, otherwise it's -4, then she applies -6 Spd/Res. She then gets Alacrity, the Spd check desperation that Lyn gives her, but as a bonus, she adds the penalties' on the foe's Res to help her Spd check. The idea is that, her perf gives her more Hit when facing the same opponent again. I'm mirroring this by using the Spd/Res penalties to mark a foe she fought.

Ruptured Sky – Atk/Spd Catch 4 – Single Minded – Spd Smoke 4

For the rest of her kit, she came with the skill Grasping Void, that takes the foe's Magic stat and add it to her own damage. A more reliable version of that in Heroes is Ruptured Sky, that takes the foe's Atk stat (more if it's a dragon). Sorry Byleth, you don't have a monopoly on that skill anymore. Then there's Atk/Spd Catch to use the penalties to applies to boost her damage, and Spd Smoke 4 to give her more Spd and [Dodge] after fighting. This mirrors the Spd Taker skill that Lyn also provides. These great fodder skill should make up for the fact she don't come with any new inheritable skills.

So I'm gonna be real, I have been super busy this month so I couldn't type up these new explanation in a reasonable time. I figure I split this post in two just to get it out before the next new heroes banner. Remember to like, comment, and follow.

#fire emblem heroes #fire emblem #theorycrafting #game design #fire emblem engage #new heroes

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musingsoftheunivrse · 1 year

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The moon and the ocean were in love. Two women, fierce and strong, forever cursed by the gods. Unwilling, they were forced apart to remain in a tidal dance, struggling under the gloaming to reach one another in desperate hopes to at least brush fingertips. Proved futile once again, the high seas screamed, crashing waves reaching heights as she wailed in agony.

Her paramour consoled gently, whispering loving words as she sobbed. "My sweetheart. How I love you so," the satellite lulled, heartbroken that she couldn't console her lover. "They may try to force us apart, those monsters; but I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here to calm your waves when anger overtakes, and shine my light upon you, no matter the occasion. I swear it to you, my love."

It didn't seem to calm the ocean, as she continued her waterworks. "I can't live without you. I want you to wrap your hands around me, and kiss me fervently until I'm devoid of oxygen for a split second; as in the past. Is that too much to ask?" She sobbed, longing for touch. "What was so horrid about our love that called for this punishment? What did we ever do to deserve suffering like this? It's too much pain to bear, and especially to think that you're drifting away! Whatever shall I do if there comes a day you're not with me?"

The lune let out a bitter sigh and looked down at her amour. "It'll pass; the grief. But we'll have memories, and a piece of each other with us. You mustn't be insouciant about this. Our love will be remembered for eons, that I know. And when I'm out in the void, all alone, I'll be thinking of your warth we once shared. Thoughts of you, my love, shall consume me completely."

"I dread that moment, but everything changes some time. I'll never forget our love, no matter how hard I try. You shall live on through me; as I, you." The sea responded, bitter waves overlapping. In the dark of night, while shackled by gods to be kept apart, the two professed their love. And though they weren't together, the women somewhat were. This time, they'd accepted their fate — too tired and too weak to rebel like they had centuries past. Death by heartbreak awaited them, but till then, the two would love in their beautiful way.

Ùwā — La Lune Et L'océan.

This was supposed to be a poem, but it ended up being a drabble/prose. I know for a fact the moon and the ocean are in love; lesbians too. This is inspired by a video from @cyborgsamantha I saw on Instagram, and a science paper I read in the past about the moon crashing into Earth long ago. As per rebelling and having a piece of each other. It's not the best, but I'll work on it later.

#Ùwā #Ùwā's Poems #poetry and prose #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #i write #lgbtq writer #queer writers #writers and poets #poetry #my poem

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nicolai-schafi-viktor · 2 years

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Hello! I have moved to

@warth-of-the-necrolamb

Anyway I calmed down and found a great way to deal with my overreactions now so since I am a super happy sheep again I decided to pin this. \o/

( still I will probably do dysfunctional or obsessive posts and oversharing [since I seriously have no filter of what is appropiate to share or say] in the future but that‘s just a part of my life so määääääh )

And everyone who thinks they have to block me for being a narcissistic person that has done stupid shit in the past or because you think I should change my behaviour even more then I have already archieved during my therapy:

OK feel free to do so. I am annoyed by people who want to change me into becoming a conformist to morals anyway. My main guidance I have discovered is worth following is my own rules. Even though I may rethink and adjust them occasionally it is still me who is the only one to decide how I want to live my life.

Also I can‘t stand my own past so if you want to blame me or remind me for it:

No use. I am very well aware of my own faults. But I won‘t become a better person when people constantly rub it in or remind me why I should be hated. I‘m already doing this enough to myself. But in longterm I am more focusing on making decisions that concern the present moments as it proofs to give me a more balanced ego compared to my overreactions and pure hate then any criticism from a different person is creating in me.

So best way to deal with this sheep if it doesn‘t follow your standards is to make it do its own decisions cause they are quite likely to make the sheep step by step follow its therapy guidelines and leave its dysfunctional behaviour behind.

MÄH! \o/

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bridgyrose · 2 years

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Cinder goes too far with her manipulation, causing Ruby to put her foot down and tell her to screw off. Whether Cinder realizes what she did wrong is up to you.

Cinder gently cupped Ruby’s cheek as she pulled her into a hug, her grip tightening around her. “I told you they’d leave you again. But I’ll be here for you-”

“That’s enough, Cinder.” Ruby pushed herself away from Cinder and looked away from her. “I’m done.”

“Done? You cant be done!”

“I am!” Ruby looked at her scarred arm and gently held it. “I’m glad you showed me how broken the world is, but I’m… done. Tired of following you and tired of the way you treat me.”

Cinder frowned a bit. “I’ve done nothing but show you love and kindness that no one else would! Ozma would be using you by now and your friends dont care about you! They left you as soon as you started to see how the world really is!”

“They left me because of you! You used me, manipulated me into doing your own dirty work! I helped topple Beacon because you convinced me its the only way to change anything! And now everyone hates me!”

“Everything we’ve done is because I care about you.”

“Do you? Did Pyrrha have to die because you cared? What about what happened to Weiss? I shot her because you needed a distraction. But have you ever cared about what I want for all of this? I dont want people to die, I want things to change! And clearly, I cant have both if I’m with you.”

“They wont take you back. They’ll never understand you like I do.”

“I dont think you ever did…”

“Salem will never let you leave,” Cinder said quietly as she watched Ruby walk off. Her heart pounded as she tried to figure out a way to fix this. She wasnt ready for Ruby to leave her yet, not now when there was still so much to accomplish. Even after the victories at Beacon and Haven, there was still so much more that could be done.

And yet, she still felt hollow inside. Having the fall and spring maiden powers didnt seem to satisfy her, using Ruby to bring Atlas’ puppet under their control only seemed to anger the reaper. Even now, she felt the guilt of what she had done start to pour over her and flow through her mind. She was angry at herself for letting Ruby down, for tossing Emerald away at Haven, for losing almost everything she cared about.

Mercury stopped at the doorway with a grin on his face. “So, the runt’s finally leaving, huh?”

“Its her choice,” Cinder said coldly. “If she wants to face Salem’s warth, that’s on her.”

“Then I think you’ll be happy to know that she wont be the only one seeing her wrath. Salem has caught on to what you’ve been doing and knows that you’re not the one responsible for all of your success.”

Cinder felt her heart skip a beat as Mercury spoke. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that she’s offering me a spot as part of her inner circle.” Mercury grinned a bit. “And, she’s going to offer a spot to Ruby as well. Though, things dont look good for you with the way you have managed to disobey her by using Ruby and I. I almost feel sorry for the runt. Once Salem gets her hands on her, I dont think there’ll be anything left of the girl that we’ll recognize.”

Cinder frowned and threw a dagger at Mercury. “Get out!”

Mercury didnt flinch as the dagger stuck into the wall, his grin fading to a frown as he walked away. “Remember, I’m only the messenger.”

Cinder laid back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Of course Ruby wont get far, and even if she did, its not like she had anywhere else to go. Salem would find her, make sure she could never leave again… it was all a suicide mission to leave. Her eyes went to her own pack and a small sigh left her lips. As if on autopilot, she stood up and grabbed her pack to go after Ruby. She had to make sure she’d get away safely. She had to make sure everything would be alright.

#rwby #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #cinder fall #mercury black #drabbles #angsty drabbles #angst #just my usual Cinder having a heart and realizing the mistakes she's made #especially for someone she cares about #and she does care about Ruby #she just doesnt know how to actually show it right

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trinoxtrinox · 2 years

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Danny's guardian

Ectoberhaunt 2022, Side Chaos. Prompt: Wraith

Summary:

Wraith: The word has no certain etymology. J. R. R. Tolkien favored a link with writhe. Also compared are Scots warth and Old Norse vǫrðr (“watcher, guardian”), whence Icelandic vörður (“guard”). See also wray/bewray, from Middle English wreien. Perhaps from wrath as a wraith is a vengeful spirit.

Vǫrðr: In Norse mythology, a vǫrðr (Old Norse: [ˈwɔrðz̠], pl. varðir [ˈwɑrðez̠] or verðir [ˈwerðez̠] — "warden," "watcher" or "caretaker") is a warden spirit, believed to follow from birth to death the soul (hugr) of every person.

Concent Warning: Death, but then again, it's Danny's death that gets mentioned, does it really count?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

In the backyard of Fentonworks resided a tree, it wasn’t the tallest tree of them all, standing at 70 feet tall, with a white trunk filled and patches of light brown, no knots present in any part of it’s bark and branches twisting and going up and down, side to side, leaving all the leaves to give the tree as a whole a dome shape stretched to the top, leaves which are more often than not dark green, with some of them that haven’t fully grown yet being light green. Its roots spread deep underground, with all of them being thick as well.

This American Basswood has been in this lot for quite a while, with it being 85 years old, and despite it not being the strongest tree, it has managed to stand tall and proud all the time, no matter the weather nor the condition of the place.

From the roots of the tree rose a light, which was tinted green and barely illuminated its surroundings. From said light eventually a baby was formed, one that remained invisible all the time for the human eye. Said ghost floated away from its tree and eventually came upon a window, from which it remained a respectful distance away as it saw the baby whose appearance it was copying sleep peacefully.

“Another night safe from the dangers of that house.” the ghost spoke, smiling softly as he said so, only to frown upon thinking something else, “Or at least for now.”

He began floating away from the house and back to the tree it resided in, leaning himself against its bark as it had done plenty of nights before. “Oh if only I could spare him of his fate.”

“You know you can’t.” another voice joined him, as he felt a medallion slip onto his neck and landing softly on his small chest, said medallion occupying the totality of his torso. Beside him floated calmly a ghost with pale blue skin, purple cloak covering his face and the sound of clocks chiming from both his wrist and chest, both of which showcased a variety of watches from different time periods.

“I know Clockwork, that doesn’t mean that I have to like it,” the ghost who was faint to the sight thus far showed himself, showing that he was indeed a carbon copy of the bay in the room before, however instead of having his black hair or blue eyes, he had white hair and neon green eyes; not to mention that their skin was darker than the human counterpart, “it’s always sad to see a young human pass away, and even though he’ll survive, a part of him will still die.”

“That’s why you’re his Vǫrðr, you’ll be able to help him and protect him once the time comes.”

“In this time and age the correct word is Wraith and you know it.”

“Yes, however due to Dungeons and Dragons, your kind has gained an unfair stigma, one that I wish would have never started to begin with, but alas, it is unwise to change history and avoid those negative connotations to bleed in to begin with.”

“Anyways, have you only come here to stop me from trying to do something stupid or is there another reason?”

“Perspective as always Phantom.” At this the master of time, who now resembled an infant much like the Wraith in front of him, lowered himself until he was touching the roots with his own tail. “You know that young Daniel’s future is full of hardships, and those will make your job of protecting him difficult as well; what I came here for is to give you a warning, and something else as well that will help you once the time comes.”

At this Phantom stilled, looking straight in the only good eye Clockwork had. “... I’m listening.”

“Not so young Vǫrðr, the warning you’ll need to heed and remember is that soon this tree won’t be safe for you…” watching how the face of the young wraith paled, Clowork changed into his elder form and continued, “... the Fenton’s defenses might be lax and weak right now, but eventually by the time young Danny reaches the age of 10 the backyard will be within the range of detection of the security system.”

“B-but that’s not going to be healthy for me, being forced to be far from my tree when Danny is in his home where I won’t be able to protect him even then. How will I be able to accomplish my purpose when that happens?” a quivering voice was heard when Phantom opened his mouth, and even though he regained a semblance of control by the end of it, some tears could still be seen on the rim of his eyes.

“You’ll find a way Phantom, do remember where you come from when the time comes, and you’ll be able to keep yourself healthy alright.” Clockwork became an adult once more, and once the transformation was done he continued speaking. “What I’m giving you here is a gear that’ll be able to deactivate the house’s defenses, however do remember that it’s a one time use item, so don’t waste it.” That last part was said with such intensity that it caused Phantom to gulp and nod nervously as he received a gear with the initials CW etched inside it.

“The day Jack and Madelline Fenton finish the portal, and before it actually begins, you’ll need to be there present,” emphasized the Ancient, pointing with his staff to the Wraith, “if you want to properly protect your charge when the time comes, you’ll need to be next to him, and that gear will be the only thing that’ll allow you to get inside that house. It lasts for 24 hours, so that should let you do everything safe and sound and get used to the future.”

“Understood” replied Phantom, only to float down and phase said gear into the ground, next to the roots of his precious American Basswood. “Anything else before you leave?”

“Yes, this won’t be the last time we’ll meet Phantom, and I’m looking forward to the time where we find each other’s faces once more.”

“Thank you for your help Clockwork.”

“You’re welcome Phantom, goodbye.” And with that, the ghost left, taking with himself the medallion that was sitting on the torso of Phantom.

The years continued to fly by, and Phantom’s appearance changed alongside Danny Fenton’s, always being a carbon copy of himself with the differences in his hair, eyes and skin color. Eventually the day where the Fenton’s security system began reaching the backyard, Phantom became nervous and couldn’t think on what to do, until he recalled Clockwork's words and phased himself underground. Thankfully the defense system couldn’t detect anything underground, so he was safe there, but sadly he couldn’t defend Danny from anything that happened inside that house anymore; Phantom had no more option but to have faith that Danny had enough common sense to avoid dangerous objects and that Jazz would protect him whenever he could not.

Finally the time came though, where Jack and Maddie announced that they would turn on the ghost portal, and when they left the house dejected for their daily patrols. Jazz was outside at the time Danny invited Sam and Tucker inside, and Phantom knew that it was time; recovering the gear from its hiding place, he threw it at the house and, after waiting a few seconds, went inside in search of Danny. He eventually found him, but by then he was already donning his own hazmat suit. Phantom began floating beside him and put his own hand on top of his shoulder, and they both entered the portal together, even if only 1 of the 4 beings present really knew that. A flash of light, some molecules rearranged, and one fusion between a human and his Wraith later, and Danny Fenton-Phantom was created.

#Ectoberhaunt22 #EH Chaos #Day 5 #Wraith #Phantom #Clockwork #Phantom and Fenton began as different people and then fused #Fate is inevitable when you form part of a temporal cycle #Danny Fenton #Mention of death #Death #CW death #But it Danny's so does it really count?

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slepyicarus · 2 years

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Mc!Monday

this was actually hard. i thought about what kind of rumor would fit. Also tumblr ffs let me edit my bloody wips!

as always the challenge is by @obeythedemons

prompt: Uhoh! There’s a rumor going around at RAD about MC! What is it? How do they react?

Tags: Asmo+satan+icrus being the agents of gossip, meantions of anxiety, mentions of social anxiety

GIF von haruhi-takehaya

Why is everyone watching me.., Icarus thought slightly panicked to himself chancing his experience to his typical 'Germans never Smile' expression which pretty much is just the meanest resting bitch face he had. As his heart quickened he started to walk faster and with more purpose scanning the faces he walked past. If he couldn't understand what was going on he knew his best bet was to ask Asmodeus who somehow always knew the newest tea of RAD even before the news club. Target spotted. Hopefully he knows what is going on!, Icarus pretty much power walked his way over to the pretty strawberry blonde. "Move. I have to talk to my housemate about something that Lord Lucifer has.", Icarus growled annoyed to demons standing in his way which stepped to side at the bare mention of the Avatar of Pride. Seeing the short lilanette finally Asmo beamed "Sweetheart! You look amazing today! That new Cardigan truly fits your comfy aesthetic-!" Meanwhile the halfdemon took Asmos hand and started to drag him slightly after him. "Imma have to steal you real quick, Asmo."

As soon as they where in a quick corridor Icarus let go of the Avatars hand and started to show his true anxious self, not needing his useful but uncomfortable mask anymore. "Everyone is staring at me and whispering something. Icouldn't hear what exactly they are saying but they look almost disgusted at me after. Do you know what's going on, Asmo? You usually know all the newest rumors..", Icarus began rambling while he walked up and down the hallway. He picked at his nail polish to avoid scratching his now itching hands. Asmo stood there, pretty as always and thought about what was told "I can't remember anything being rumored about you, Ruru..Do the others know already or am I the first you told?", Asmo sighed. The shorter shook his head. "Maybe we should find Satan and ask him. He is friends with that Journalist Mephistopheles! He surely knows what's going on!" "Okay..Do you know Satan's schedule? Because i don't anymore since it changed..",the exchange student confessed. Giggling Asmo took his hand and dragged him slightly now. "Of course I know!"

Being short, standing only at 5'2, and having since childhood always had to power walk to keep up with his peers, Icarus was fast and incredibly good at navigating through dense mobs of people without being detected. Thanks to that tho Asmo had a hard time following his pacted master. The Lust demon tried his best to keep up with him nevertheless and was only a few meters behind the shorter which threw open the door to the library.

Icarus meanwhile took a deep breath before screaming for his warthful friend "Tantan!! Where the fuck are you?? I need your Help!" He did earn quite a few dirty looks and calls to keep quiet but he couldn't care less in that moment. Icarus was feeling a lot of things and just wants to get to the bottom of the rumor so he can self study in peace.

Satan quickly walked to the lilanette from what seems like a murder mystery section. "What happened, Icarus? You look paler then usually." "Someone seemed to be spreading a rumor about me. Have you heard anything? Because Asmo has not heard of it but im getting dirty looks." "Mephistopheles mentioned he heard something he wants to investigate. Something about you plotting to overthrow Diavolo because your following Micheals commands that you get from Simeon.", Satan laughed a bit about the absurity of the rumor, "Most likely someone that dislikes you and tries to get you in trouble with the fact you always are at Purgatory Hall when we have to do stuff and cant take you with us." Icarus was annoyed and huffed "Really? Because of that? Are they dumb? Who started the rumor anyways?" Now Asmo chimed in, hugging the lilanette from behind to comfort him a bit "It looks like it was Belias. Why?" The lilanette smiled, way too pleasantly for both avatars, sending a chill down their spines "Yall know I fight fire with fire. How about we start our own rumors about him and beat him at his own game~?"

Using Asmos influence, Satans contacts and Icaruss' never ending petty creativity the three of them spread a simple but effective rumor: Belias is trying to defame Icarus name because he is jealous of the young demon duke as he gets so much affection and attention of Solomon and Lucifer, aka Belias pacted master and his Idol. It worked wonders and turned the student body and quite a bit of the devildom in generell against Belias, It was natural that happened as the rumor was directly spread from Asmo, another pacted demon of Solomon and brother of Lucifer as well as Satan who was remarked as a trustworthy source. Even Mephistopheles joined the three agents of gossip and spreaded the rumor through the newsletter club. Icarus, being the theater kid that he is, pretended to be hurt and sad about Belias trying to frame him as some villain when all he did was spending time with another exchange student and gettig along with the master of the dorm he lives in. You know, normal things he does to help his big brother archive his dream of harmony between the realms. In the end the rumor they spread won and Icarus could walk around RAD again with no dirty looks or whispers about him in the halls. As thanks he invited the three demons that helped him to Restorante Six, having earned enough money at the tower to treat them without worries of the bill.

#this is always fun to write #took me bloody long to finish tho #distractions am i right?#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #mc!icarus #obey me!#slepy does challenges/trends #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me mephistopheles #mc!monday

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littleeyesofpallas · 2 months

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So the second issue opens with Bruce meeting Harvey Dent (who I guess has been doing better? Not sure since when....) in something between a classy jazz lounge and a seedy speakeasy. They have elaborate bat insignia coasters apparently... There is a lounge singer performing, keeping us with the musicality theme. Also Harvey's sporting this golden Phantom of the Opera look now like an absolute drama queen.

A curious detail here: The bar Harvey is wasting away in, is named after a Hindu deity, Bhairava[भैरव] is a warthful emination of the god of destruction, Shiva.

Anyway the conversation is ridiculous and Harvey seriously delivers the line, "Look upon my golden face, Bruce Wayne." Anyway they establish that the normal mobsters have gone into hiding and that there is some kind of a change coming, but neither knows just what. Change, btw, is a theme here... sort of... it's supposed to be anyway.

meanwhile the Orghams have already arrived in Gotham, which feels a little too quick honestly... We get this super weird and kind of frustratingly bland exposition dump where apparently the first Orgham to settle Gotham did so during the establishment of the fucking midatlantic colonies in 1692(the year of the start of the salem witch trials, btw...) which just raises all kinds of questions I know they weren't trying to... like why eastern european aristocracy was buying land on the North American continent with a bunch of anglosaxon heretic peasants. But in any case 1853 the name Arkham is apparently taken to protect business operations??? (Note that the American Civil War hasnt even happened at that point)

I gotta stop here to point out that this is just a wild series of tiny decisions to have made and laid out so explicitly here... So the eastern european family did not in fact immigrate to the U.S. during any of the notable and appropriate historical migration periods for that region??? The change of the name Orgham to Arkham was not a matter of integration into American culture, as many name changes of imigrants over history have been? (certainly not centuries after establishing themselves as American settlers and land owners) What a wasted opportunity to inject a little real world flavor into things.

Anyway, we learn the trust fund baby has magic hulk out powers too. The music box is revealed to have the power to actually reverse, as well as apparently trigger the effect. Batman is then concurrently figuring out via consultation with an imprisoned Maestro, that the music box isn't just randomly magic, but specifically musical pseudo science.

With the Maronis apparently broken off with, the Orgham agents in Gotham approach Harvey instead, and hit him with their "Azmer" dust, and now Two-Face is talking to him in his head again.

Now... for all my beef with the Orgham backstory (and oh boy is there more of that to come... dont you worry...) I really love this idea that the Azmer and the music tap into this kind of subconcious latency and that people like Bruce and Harvey are already so predisposed to carrying on their alter egos that their manifestations are more clear and distinct, where as some rando just goes frothing at the mouth mad and hulks out instead. And there's an aspect that I'll skip ahead to bring up: the Orgham goons all have a mask that allows them to transform. This whole talk of bringing out inner demons is cool and all, but the villains all just turn into fairly generically bigstrong monster men.

Okay so here's maybe my biggest issue with all this... (and i say this fully understanding that it is an unreasonably obtuse thing to have expected from pretty loosely associated hooks, but hear me out...) if we're juggling changing the city, the absence of arkham, the power of masks, some kind of ancient lovecraftian madness, barbatos and batman, and batman's declining health and Dawn of DC's (admitedly weak ass) passing the torch themes... then rather than some deep down personal demons being brought out by spooky song, what I would have really liked is for this all to have been about the Orghams having developed a method of channeling a vast unknowable wealth of abstract concepts and powers into the physical world via totems. The physical object reflects the idea and anchors vast formless powers into concrete images, funneling that impossible expanse into manageable human proportions. In that way the ancient evil remains unknowable without making its methods overly concrete and explained, the Orgham's relation to it becomes uniquely threatening without making them either underpowered or limited in their gimmick, and yet the parallel with Batman and the Gotham rogues becomes abundantly clear:

Batman has unwittingly and tactlessly reinvented this ancient ritual from scratch, and he has for years thus been channeling unchecked madness directly into his skull via his bat persona. So now the family has come to clamp down on this infringement of their ancient rites, and the source of it all is that some ancient ancestor of theirs ran off with their family secrets and spread them unchecked amongst Gotham's unknowing populace for generations, giving rise to Gotham's rouges gallery and all their costumed gimmicks, each faintly tapping into higher powers via their masks and aliases. And above all, Gotham itself is a living breathing psychic organism, and the power of masks works on it as well, and for decades now, Arkham Asylum was Gotham's mask: it projected the image of gothic horror and an archaic madhouse, and so that's the anchor the abstract powers of the aether had to channel themselves into the city through. With the Asylum gone, there is no anchor, and there is no mask, and city can do one of three things: put the mask back on, forge a new mask and a new persona, or face down a sort of withering psychic hangover as all of Gotham's psychic collective rides out the lingering madness raw and unfiltered.

So do we rebuild Arkham as it was, to uphold status quo, but in a way that ultimately means perpetuating the pipeline of madness from the aether into the city and its populace? Do we try to build something new, funneling different and "better" forces into the city, but via an equally tenuous and dangerous anchor? Or do we try to break the cycle entirely at the risk that the potential psychic overload of everything Gotham took into itself for a century taken without the filter of a mask could straight up kill it and everyone in it? And do the mask of Batman and the mask of Arkham go hand in hand? If we agree to retire Arkham, do we accept retiring The Batman as we know him as well? Can the city ever really move on?

That's the fucking story I wanted out of this. Along with maybe some cool immigrant anecdotes, and throwbacks to Dracula's whole London property investment world conquest scheme.

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forbidden-creepypasta · 8 months

Text

The Stone Circle- Long Short Story

*WARNING* THIS STORY CONTAINS ACCENT DIALOGUE OF AN IRISH NATURE. IT MAY GET SLIGHTLY DIFFICULT TO READ AT PARTS.

Lying in bed, the sun hit her visage fiercely causing her closed eyes to wince in sharp, sudden pain. She groaned in annoyance and violently tossed to her other side to avoid the rays. Assuming she would be comfortable once again, she sank into her pillow attempting to fall back asleep when her alarm clock started its blaring siren.

“Why the hell does this damn thing keep going off!” she screamed in anger as she whipped it across the room. As she heard the plastic crack against the wall, she stuffed her head face down into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut once more. When, at last, she felt she was clear, her cell phone started ringing, making her fling herself off the bed and to the table her phone was on in a stomping rage.

“Goddammit all! What!?” she screamed into the speaker.

“Well judging by yer tone, I’m guessin’ ya had a lovely rest.”

“Shut the hell up Sean. Whaddya want?” she said with a considerably large yawn.

“A contact I have told me about a town of people who need help, a lot of it.”

“Just get the damn police, they’re retarded but at laist they get paid far it.”

“Are ya sure ya don’t have a faiver or somethin’? Telling someone to ask the police? Who are ya and what have ya done with Emili Karas?”

“I’m too feckin’ knackered to go anywhere, or think. I thought I got a laid on Dante but-,”

“Didn’t get ya anywhere did it?”

“…no,” Emili said with a sigh of disappointment, falling back into a chair next to the window.

“This is gunna start gettin’ unhealthy Em…You should railly stop before hunting this fella seriously screws you up.”

“Ha! Ya actually think I’ll stop? I can’t do dat and ya know it!”

“Yeah but-“

“I’m gunna chase that son a bitch to hell if I have to and make damn sure he fuckin’ suffers!”

“Em!”

“…sorry, I just-,” Emili grabbed her forehead with her hand and bent down in the chair breathing heavily out of anger, but trying to calm herself down.

“Ya gunna be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m grand.”

“Ya need to get yer mind off this for a while, so take this…ya need it.” Sean begged in a worried tone.

“Fine.”

“Meet me at Divino at 11.”

“…yeah.” Emili closed the phone and hit her forehead with it, bending even lower. She took a deep breath and screamed ‘damn it!’ as she threw the phone to the ground.

---o--- Emili drove up to Café Divino on the north side of Dublin, right next to River Liffey that divides the north and south sides of Dublin. She grabbed her long tan jacket and put it over her black button up as she got out of the small SUV. She saw Sean as she walked up the short set of stairs into the small building and walked over to the table next to a window sitting down with a thump on the thin framed black chair. Taking a sip of the pre-ordered coffee, she made a displeased face and reached into her big coat pocket and pulled out a nip of Bailey’s. She poured the bottle into the coffee and took a sip with a smile as Sean started talking.

“Don’t ya think it’s a little airly for alcohol?”

“Oh, it’s never too airly.”

“Right, anyway I’ll get to it then. There’s some waird shite going on in a small town narth of here, next to the waterfront.”

“Waird how?” What’s goin’ on?” She said as she took a considerable draught of her “coffee.”

“Paiple in the town are disappearing then miraculously comin’ bahck, but they’re all paranoid and actin’ waird.”

“Aliens?” Emili said with a laugh, “If they’re back then what’s the problem? Just have ‘em go to a psychiatrist.”

“They’re killin’ themselves violently a few aftar they get back, and fussin’ ovar some sart of markin.”

“Well now, dat changes things a bit. How many have disappaired?”

“Far”

“Does anyone know anythin’?”

“Not much. Just what I told ya.”

“Hmm, well dat could be warth some of my time. So, where is this place?”

---o---

Emili and Sean were driving for what seemed like days up the Irish countryside to Kenmare, the nowhere town where people seemed to be mysteriously disappearing.

“Are we there…yet?”

“Jaysus Emili, bite the back of me bollix! We are not there yet. It’s just a few minutes away.”

“Ya, thas what ya’ said 15 miles ago. Do ya even know where ya goin’?”

“Yes I do,” Sean said with a sigh of annoyance, “oh thank jaysus, der it is.”

“Fuckin’ right!” Emili screamed in happiness as she shifted from having her feet up on the dashboard and the back of the seat pulled all the way down to the backseat cushion, to sitting upright, seat back in place, her leg buzzing impatiently up and down and anxious to finally get out of the tiny black Seat Cordoba.

“Man, ya need ta get a bigger car and trash this piece of shite ya know.”

“Sorray my trahnsportation does noht please you mahsta” Sean joked in a fake British accent while twirling his hand. Emili laughed sarcastically and punched him in the arm as they drove up to what Emili believed to be a hotel of some sort. It was an old town and small, right next to the ocean. Emili tumbled out of the car throwing her hands in the air for a big stretch. She immediately felt the chill from the close vicinity of the water and whipped her arms down, grabbing her jacket from the back seat of the car. Sean just sat in the car shaking his head and laughing. How can someone so smart be so completely absent minded? He finally got out of the car and walked over to Emili who suddenly had a tense look on her face.

“How’s tha form?” he asked, confused.

“Fit as a cello, but you were right. There’s definitely sohmthin’ waird goin’ on ‘ere.” She stated, looking around the town hall and surrounding streets.

“Why, whas tha matter?”

“No one walkin’ around, parked cars laynin’ every strait, no stahrs open…nothin’. There’s obviously sohmthin’ scarin’ tha crap outta these paiple.”

“ I told ya, they need a lot a’ help. I even haird that one of tha victims came runnin’ out in tha strait scraimin’ tings and lookin’ up at tha sky. Thas probably why no one will cohm outside anymore.”

“They don’t railly tink it’s aliens do they?”

“Who knows what dey tink it is?”

“Well, who are we suppos’ ta talk to? Is there a mayor? What about the pairson who raported it?”

“I don’t act’lly know who raported it, tha tip came anonymously through a lettar and tha mayor is just as scared as th’ rest of ‘em.”

“Why are they so paranoid?”

“Do ya think that a lot happens in this place? They aren’t used ta things like this happening.”

“They should be prapared far sohmthin like this no matter if it happens ar not!”

“It’s not that eas-“

“Screw thaht! Where tha hell is tha mayor?” Sean sighed at Emili’s impatience and scratched his temple.

“He should be in the Town Hall.”

“Fine, then les go.” Emili was angered at the lack of any effort on the part of the town to try and figure out the situation. No wonder they needed a lot of help. They didn’t want to bother trying to help themselves.

The town looked like a ghost town where the only sound was leaves being blown by the wind coming from the shore. It was so quiet, she swore she could hear her own heartbeat and Sean’s breathing. It was a classic old Irish town with some brown and white houses but some colorful and aligned buildings at the town’s center, small in size, and cobblestones roads. There was a small square in the middle of town with a tiny fountain that seemed to thunder with every stream of water, drowning every other sound out. Emili could feel frightened eyes watching their every move and wondering who these strangers were, and what they wanted. They finally arrived at Town Hall, which also seemed abandoned, looking void with no lights or bustling town officials. They opened the door and stepped into the empty halls, where all they could listen to was the clacking of Emili’s boots and the thump of Sean’s hard steps. They wandered through the corridors looking everywhere for the mayor’s office. They finally found a door labeled ‘Secretary/Mayor’ and entered the door. There was no one in there, and only a desk stood alone in the middle of the room.

“Must be the secretary’s office,” Emili deducted, seeing the name Shauna Walsh inscribed on the name plate. She looked over and saw a door on the left side of the room labeled ‘Mayor’ and walked over.

“Do ya smell that?” She asked Sean who walked over to the door and took a whiff.

“Jaysus, yeah,” he said with a disgusted face. Emili grabbed the doorknob and turned it, opening the door with a squeak from old hinges just to get bombarded with the same vile smell. Emili and Sean both cupped their mouth and nose quickly to try and avoid the horrid stench. They cautiously walked into the room, and were greeted by a mangled, dismembered, and bloody corpse strewn about the room in several pieces. The arms and legs were cut from the body and pieces of flesh were cut from the torso. The victim’s neck was also slashed from ear to ear nearly clean off, and the arm that was still intact was holding a particularly bloody cleaver. There was blood splattered everywhere. The smears on the wall were already congealed.

‘Must be tha mayor,” Emili said with a cough of disgust, trying not to full out gag. Sean ran out of the offices and into the hall yelling that he was going to check out the rest of the building for clues. Clues? What is this, Scooby-Doo? Emili thought of that stupid old show she saw once when she had to take a trip to America a few years ago as Sean ran out. She heard him take a huge breath of air and nearly choking on it. Emili stayed in the Mayor’s office and pulled up the collar of her jacket over her mouth and nose, while scanning the office for anything useful. Let’s split up and search for clues gang! Emili laughed at herself and continued on. She slowly and cautiously walked towards the corpse, trying to avoid the numerous puddles of blood around the room. She went next to the body and knelt down. Her eyes winced at the vile stench being so close to her nose and she did everything to keep the vomit already forming from the seemingly endless car trip to this town from forming a fountain in her throat and hurling like a Reykjavik geyser.

She carefully examined the severed torso and neck then looked at the hand that was holding the cleaver. The mayor was holding the cleaver in his right hand, and all the limbs except the one with the knife were missing, and the limbs were cut far enough below the joints to suggest suicide. She figured he was somehow subjected to whatever the other victims were exposed to and went nuts, but she noticed that his face was completely calm, eyes and mouth closed. Someone who was going crazy and chopping himself into pieces would most likely have a crazed look on his face, or at least a pained one. She obviously knew that something was amiss and took a second look. To her own dismay, she leaned in closer to the carcass and carefully studied the cut limbs. Jagged. Cleavers have smooth blades, and the limbs looked to have been sawed off rather than chopped. No hesitation marks. Anyone dismembering themselves, crazy or not, would have second thoughts. She also noticed that the cut on the neck was angled down from right to left, and the mayor had the knife in his right hand, if he had nearly decapitated himself, the cut would angle up from left to right.

“Finally, a good ol’ fashioned mardur,” she said to herself, “and whoevar did it was some kind o’ stupid.” ---o--- Emili and Sean left the Town Hall after Emili decided there was nothing else suspicious in the Hall except for the mayor, after doing a thorough look around to see if anything could give her an idea of who could be the murderer. Just as they were walking across the street to get back to the Cordoba, Emili stopped, looking around in a confused manner.

“What is i-“

“Shhh,” Emili interrupted then looked around again. Her head suddenly jerked to the side making Sean jump a bit.

“Do you hear that?” She asked.

“Hear what?” Another jerk of the head.

“That!” She started sounding angry now, wondering if she herself was going loony because of this place. “Listen!” Sean did as ordered and listened carefully. Then his eyes popped open after hearing a sudden blaring scream that he thought he shouldn’t have missed. Again. Like one of those horror movie screams when the female victim finally encounters the killer and lets out a screech. Again. It was louder, almost to the point of ear piercing. He knew why he didn’t hear it before, it was farther away but coming closer, and fast. He jerked his around in circles trying to locate the direction from which it was coming while Emili was doing to the same except much more calmly.

The banshee screeching stopped and Sean and Emili both looked at each other, confused on what just happened. Was it a figment of their imagination? Was this town slowly but surely getting into their heads, making them hear things? Sean started sweating and his eyeballs twitched nervously. Emili was still looking around. Nothing. Just like when they got there, totally deserted. They started turning around cautiously still glancing here and there just in case and walking towards the Cordoba slowly. Emili stopped and turned again.

“The circle! The circle! Red, human vellum to make it real! There, in the circle! The circle! THE CIRCLE!” A woman came screaming into the street seemingly from nowhere, tearing her face and chest with her nails, and tripping over her own bare feet. She ran around in a circle then it looked like her knees gave out. She kneeled there, in the middle of the street, head down, her hair oily and wiry falling in streams around her shoulders. Her entire body was covered in scratches and gauges all fresh and bleeding. Emili and Sean both just stood there, stupefied and half terrified, staring at the woman. The woman bent down further and with her bloody fingers drew something on the pavement, hesitated, then stood up. She looked over towards Sean and Emili, and smiled a mentally insane Cheshire cat smile before leaning back and falling full force forward, crushing her head on the pavement, painting it with skull pieces, blood, and brain matter.

Neither of them knew what to say, what to do. They just stood there, wondering what the hell just happened right in front of their eyes. They stood for what seemed like an hour before they finally jerked themselves back to their senses.

“What…the fuck…just…” Emili couldn’t even finish her sentence. Sean’s jaw was half to the ground, speechless. ---o--- After Sean and Emili forced themselves back into mental reality, they identified the victim as Clare Kavanagh when they finally got to interview some of the residents who dared to open their door. They were told to go to a cottage near the shore to see “Ol’ Mahn Duffey”, and he could probably shed some light on whatever circle the victim was shouting about. They went down the countryside and arrived at the specified cottage laying right next to the beach. It was run down and shabby, ill-maintained and smelled like shit and low tide. With immense disgust, Emili knocked on the door.

“Ya bettar have a good raison to cohm tainting ma dar wit yar stinkin’ hahnds that ar reddled with th’ filth of th’ outsaide.” They heard a strong country accent from the other side of the door and Emili pinched her septum knowing it was going to turn out like this.

“Is thar anaone in this town thaht isn’t away in tha head?” Emili whispered to Sean who just shrugged his shoulders. With a sigh Emili spoke to the nut living in the shack.

“Ma name is Emili Karas an’ I’m investigatin’ the raicent…uh…phenomena thas been goin’ on hair.” She said as dignified as she could in her annoyance.

“Heh now say hwhat now?” The voice responded.

“Jaysus ol’ man, I’m hair ta ask questions about tha fuckin’ killin goin’ round hair.” She nearly yelled.

“The caircle eh? Oh well, well, well, Ms. Quaistions ima hair ta tell ya ‘bout them.” Emili and Sean just looked at each other confused as the door to the shack opened quite creepily, but at this point, not much could freak them out anymore.

“So what do ya know?” Emili got straight to the point, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in that shithole.

“Oh, well now, I know a lot lass.”

“Alright then, lad, why dontcha tell me ‘bout it?” she was getting frustrated with this nutso hermit.

“Ain’t na narmal killin’ been goin’ here lass, ain’t na narmal. Ain’t na suicide naithar. Ain’t na narmal killin’, Ain’t na narmal.”

“I pretty much got that far meself ol’ man. Now will ya quit talkin’ in caircles an’ give me a straight answar?”

“Lass, if I ain’t talkin’ in me caircles, I ain’t na use to ya now. It’s caircles lass, caircles.” "Thas mostly what I want ta know, a pairson in town told me that you might know about this caircle that the victim shouted out befar she died. She also drew a symbol on tha strait, a caircle with what looked like an x or a cross inside it. Are they ralated at all?”

“Ain’t na crass, ain’t na x. It’s a’ somthin’, but it ain’t them. That caircle’s a place, a place ya hair lass, that…things, things ya hear now lass, that happ’n, happ’n now.”

“So what exactly is happenin’ then?”

“Oh now lass, thas a’ sohmthin’ ya be needin’ ta find out on ya own there lass. On…ya own.” He said while looking at Sean with a horrid glare, which was a big switch from the bug-eyed crazy old hermit look he was sporting through this whole weird conversation.

“On ya own…Hair dat lad? HAIR OWN LAD! HAIR OWN! I don’t want ya lad..not ya…nuh-uh, not ya lad, a’ goin’ to this place lad, not this place.” His words were fading as he kept talking and eventually turned into a low mumble no one could make out, and he was back to the crazy bug eyes and tapping his fore fingers together nervously.

“So..uh-um…where exactly is this place now?” Emili asked, now partially frightened of the crazy mumbling hermit, and having her right foot pulled back a bit at the ready to get the hell out of there.

“Jus go down ta tha shar…falla tha caircles lass, falla ‘em. Tha caircles lass, caircles. Right on tha ground there, nice an’caircalar.” The hermit grinned and stared at Emili who was now officially freaked out by this weird old man. The hermit continued to mumble something while still staring at Emili with that ferocious grin and tapping his fingers wildly. ---o--- Emili had been down on the beach for half an hour, searching the sand for any indication of circles being seemingly etched into the ground. She told Sean to go back to town and find out anything else he possibly could because she didn’t like the way the hermit was speaking or looking when he said “On hair own!” like a lunatic. She wass getting cramps in her neck from looking down so much, without any fruit for her labors. She reached a boulder that was on the southern end of the beach and plopped down in front of it, giving up. She laid her head back on the rock, and noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She turned to the side and found a perfectly carved circle on the side of the boulder with that same cross-like symbol in the middle, the long end of it pointing behind the boulder.

She got up and went around the boulder, seeing another faint circle with the cross still pointing in the same direction. She went that way and suddenly say scores of these circles in the dirt, on trees and on stones. She just kept following them , the circles getting more and more numerous as she went on until she found a huge cluster of them all around the entrance to a cave, all with the crosses pointing inward. She hesitated, then reluctantly went inside and walked forward. It got dark and impossible to see anything, so she was guiding herself by keeping her hand on the wall of the cave, which was progressively getting wet and hard to keep touching. She bore the disgust and continued on until she finally saw a light coming from the other side of the seemingly endless tunnel.

When she emerged, she was blinded by the sudden emergence of light from the bright afternoon sun, which seemed to be her lifelong mortal enemy. After she shook off the blindness from the light, her eyes grew wide in shock as she stared in awe of what was before her. A huge circle made up of various sizes of rocks all piled up on each other some weathered and moss covered, others smooth and clean. Then in the middle was that weird cross thing, she thought it was made up of stones too until she looked and saw they were an odd color, not grey but…skin color. She carefully walked closer and saw that it was made of strips and balls of old and fresh skin…human skin. “ Red, human vellum to make it real!” she remembered what the victim had screamed during her rant. She saw what she meant by vellum, much of the skin was sun dried and looked much like the old parchment, but there was some skin that was still hydrated and light.

Emili cupped her hand over her mouth in surprise and disgust when she smelled something odd, irony. She looked down at her hand and saw that it was covered and dripping with dark crimson blood. It wasn’t water on the walls, but blood. She looked down at her boots and saw that they were also covered in blood. She tasted the blood on her tongue and almost vomited in disgust. She fell on her knees coughing, trying to spit out any blood she got in her mouth. While she was nearly hyperventilating and tears were streaming down her cheeks, making the blood on her face run down onto her neck and chest she heard mumbles, mumbles she recognized. She looked up and through her burning, tear stricken eyes she saw long, oily white hair and a back with an old stained shirt sitting on one of the stones. The figure was moving back and forth and mumbling. She couldn’t believe it and rose slowly. She walked with eyes wide over towards the circle and squinted to get a better look.

It was that hermit alright; she could recognize that stench anywhere even though she only experienced it once. She went even closer and pointed her ear towards him to try and make out what he was saying.

“…has an eye like a stinkin’ eel… wouldn’t give you the steam off her piss…he’d shite in your parlour and charge you for it…fuck the bastards…fuck the bastards.” She didn’t get why he was mumbling random Irish phrases, and she noticed that he had completely lost the deep Irish country accent and spoke with nearly no Irish accent at all. He suddenly stopped but his finger tapping continued. He rose and turned around to look at Emili with a look she could barely describe. It was like he was dead, but there he was standing in flesh and blood.

She stepped back, terrified by this point, but still looking at him. His tapping fingers almost seemed like thunder to her ears because it was so quiet at the circle. He finally stopped tapping just as she was about to scream like she was getting tortured, and he lifted his hands into the air. He started drawing something in the air and it took a while for Emili to see what he was doing. Her eyes grew wide and crazed with anger. She was no longer terrified but overcome with the utter hate and anger she could bare for only one person.

He had drawn a heart with an x through the middle, a clear criss-crossed x, the same thing that was drawn on the walls of her childhood home in a town on the outside of Dublin. The symbol that was drawn in her family’s blood right in the middle of their family room, where they were viciously mangled and murdered and left there to rot in the summer heat. Under it was written a stupid graffiti like message that stated DANTE WAS HERE, like a cruel school joke.

He was here, it was him.

“You…you…YOU! YOU! IT’S FUCKIN’ YOU!” she screamed in hysteric anger. I shoulda fuckin’ known! Thas why the mayor’s body was left so obviously…the same fuckin’ kind of knife you fuckin’ used ta marder ma family you FUCKIN’ BASTARD!” she screamed, the tears flowing out in waterfall streams. The hermit, she now knew that it was Dante, started tapping his fingers again, and smiling… smiling like an amused child. He was no longer the crazy old hermit; he was a cold blooded psychotic murderer. He just kept tapping and tapping those fingers that were stained the blood and guts of her mother, father, and two sisters.

Stop it.

Smiling all through her final breakdown of realizing that all this was just a way to get her up to this town…to his trophy room.

Stop that fucking tapping!

“STOP IT!” she screeched in her craze and ran towards him, picking a rock up from the ground and holding it in the air, ready to strike. She was getting blinded by the constant flow of tears and the wind splintering her eyes, but ran on. She got to him and she struck with all her strength on his head. They both fell to the ground with her blow and she continued hitting him ferociously, feeling his skull crack under the bombardment of the rock. She continued on, even after she knew he was long dead and all she was doing was cracking his skull open more and more like a coconut.

There was blood splattered all over her face, her hair, arms, and clothes. She stayed there on top of him, drenched in his blood and panting from the exertion. She smiled and dropped the rock, her whole body failing to acquire energy. She started laughing, almost maniacally and kept laughing until she opened her eyes, thought for a second, and the laughing slowed at a pace until she finally stopped. He hadn’t tried to fight back; he was antagonizing her on purpose, wanting her to kill him. She got off the body of the man whose face was now unrecognizable and sat on the grass in a daze. What was happening to her? Her fingers tingled with the urge to hurt more...to kill more, it was becoming an itch.

“Now…it’s your...t-turn,” she heard the corpse whisper until he let out one final breath and smiled as he closed his eye permanently. Her turn? What did he mean her turn?

He was relieved…that wasn’t a final breath…that was a sigh of relief. Emili thought to herself. What was happening? What was that place? What did it do to people? She let out a stream of tears as she realized that something was happening to her…she was becoming him. She had the same itches she knew he had. She was getting dizzy and her vision was blurry.

It’s your turn… ---o--- Sean had been waiting in the car for what seemed like hours for Emili to come back. He was finally getting frustrated and decided to back up to the cottage to see if she went back there. He got to the cottage about 10 minutes later and knocked on the door.

“Ya bettar have a good raison to cohm tainting ma dar wit yar stinkin’ hahnds that ar reddled with th’ filth of th’ outsaide.” He heard the same greeting they got when he and Emili first came, but this time it was different. He opened the door ina panic and threw himself inside. He saw the figure of a woman sitting on an old rocking chair, with long red hair flowing over her shoulders.

“Em?”

THE END

Credit to: Parilis

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction #creepy story

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