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thebusytypewriter · 27 days

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Hail the Lamb, Resilient and Eternal

Here it is, the starting point of the Tri-God AU timeline! Many thanks to Jonnie @jonquilandlace my beloved for helping me out :D

You can also find this on AO3 if that suits you better.

CW: blood, gore, major character death (not permanent)

“MEDICS!”

All hell broke loose at the cry, startling every creature within the grounds into action. The aforementioned medics scrambled from their idle activities to meet a wide-eyed rabbit at the camp entrance, where they kept their benevolent leader from collapsing by holding them upright as best as they could.

The Lamb of prophecy, who seemed indestructible to the common folk, stood half limp in their support. Crimson blood flowed down their face from somewhere atop their wooly head, dripping onto both an equally-red cloak and the vegetation below. One eye was bruised deeply to the point of being swollen shut, while the other stared at the ground, cloudy and unfocused.

Truely, it was a rare sight to behold for their flock, and many panicked animals dropped what they were doing to either assist or observe.

In the small hut of a kitchen remained one deer, silver in color, who watched the events unfold with worry. Kaliaphra wasn’t one to act in such situations, lest she be in the way of the people whose skills mattered there. That wasn’t to say she was unskilled, just that she’d never belonged to the area of healing.

Instead, she stared with horrified intrigue, a half-finished fish dish already forgotten on the counter behind her.

“My Lamb!” exclaimed the head medic, an elderly turtle by the name of Zelva. “My Lamb, what happened? Can you speak? Please, say something if you are conscious!”

Despite her distance, Kaliaphra could tell that The Lamb didn’t respond based on the increased numbers of furrowed brows. More hurried words were exchanged between Zelva and her students, and the largest among them took their leader into their arms to carry them toward the healing tent. The Lamb’s limbs dangled limply as they did so.

Whatever had happened in Anura, it wasn’t good.

“Kali, your tuna’s burning.”

She startled, whirling back around to pull her skillet off the fire. “Hells, Theo! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The brown buck that entered the kitchen—Theanno, her cousin who might as well have been her brother—simply smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least you’d be seeing Death. Aside from the, um, burning, how’s it coming in here?”

“Slow,” she sighed, pulling out a cloth to wrap the burnt fish. “I was already having a difficult time staying on task, and then The Lamb returned, and… did you get a better look at them? How bad is it?”

He leaned back against the countertop adjacent to her. “Couldn’t have seen more than you just now. That was… a lot of blood coming from them, though. I wonder if the healers can patch them up.”

“Well, even if they cannot, our leader will return to us shortly after, right? Death favors them. They bear his Crown.”

“Yeah, but…”

Kaliaphra turned sharply toward her cousin with wide eyes. “‘But’? Theo, you cannot question the nature of the Lamb.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m just worried. We’ve never seen them so hurt, right, so what happens if we lose them? Do we just… go back to where we were before?”

“We should not be thinking about this.”

“It’s a real problem, Kali! We couldn’t stay here; the Bishops—”

With a loud metallic thunk, Kaliaphra slammed the still-warm skillet on the counter next to him. She stared up at Theanno there, at his stunned expression, and hissed, “The Bishops, of two there are remaining, cannot touch this place. I am not worried about it, and you should not be, either. Imagine if an elder heard you; they would think that you are dissenting.”

Calmly, solemnly, Theo raised one hand and extended a finger to lightly boop her on the nose. “I’m not dissenting. We’re under the Lamb’s protection, I know. I’m just… thinking out loud. I’ve gotta get back to the crops. You should see if the healers need lunch. That way, you can keep an eye on our Lamb.”

The tonal shift of their conversation threw Kali off-balance. “What—you—”

“Okayloveyoubyeeee!” In a torrent of a wave and a head pat, Theanno slipped back out of the hut, leaving her alone again.

He throws existential dread on me then leaves, she grumbled to herself. Now I have to check in on the Lamb.

She grabbed a few covered bowls from the storage crate—only berries would be properly stored there—and layered them on a tray, careful to balance each even as she lifted the tray. It wasn’t an unpracticed movement, given how she’d taken to serving dinner to her family before, well, being separated from them. If anything, it was comfortingly familiar.

Kaliaphra slipped out of the kitchen hut and crossed the grounds toward the infirmary tent. Many of her fellow cultists were still floating around the entrance, their tasks remaining unfinished in their hands, but they didn’t seem to care. They stared at the infirmary in deep concern and only scattered when she gently told them to shoo.

With a deep breath, she prepared to announce her entrance, but a scream cut her off.

She shouldered her way inside to assist and was met with a rather… frightening scene.

The circle of healers had taken a large step back from the cot, each raising their hands in some semblance of placation. Upon the cot, most worryingly, squatted the Lamb. Their eyes were wide with fear, and they had somehow managed to grab hold of a small and pointy stick.

“Get back!” the Lamb shrieked, waving their acquired stick like a dagger. (Instinct, perhaps?) “I won’t go with you, do you understand? I refuse to be sacrificed just because of some… some dumb prophecy!”

Confounded murmurs filled the space.

“Prophecy?”

“Sacrifice?”

“Have they forgotten the years of this establishment?”

“My Lamb,” Zelva said, playing up her comforting tone, “we are not here to bring you to the Bishops. You escaped from them, and you have unified us all here under the Red Crown. Do you… not remember?”

They stared up at her with the most dumbfounded expression Kali had ever seen on them. “I don’t know what in the hells you’re talking about. I was… on my way to scavenge when a group of robed individuals—” The Lamb glanced suspiciously about the tent, which contained several people fitting that description— “bounded me in chains to take me away to the Bishops. I don’t follow the Red Crown; I don’t follow anyone!”

There was something of a faint collective gasp among the group (which made sense, since the Lamb was essentially speaking heresy without realizing it).

“Zelva,” Kali murmured, setting her tray of berry bowls on a table, “what… happened to them?”

The old turtle sighed and dragged a hand down her face. “From what I could see before they began threatening us with a stick, there are signs of severe head trauma possibly originating from their most recent trip through Anura. They most certainly defeated the Bishop Heket, but I imagine something hit them before they made their escape.”

“Meaning…?”

“Amnesia. At least partially. They appear to have forgotten events after their execution, including the founding of this camp.”

“And the Red Crown?”

“At the moment, Filip is placing the Crown within the Temple.”

“The sermons?”

“Canceled until further notice.”

“The Bishops?”

“Will never know.”

“But—”

“Kaliaphra.” Zelva grabbed her by the shoulders. “We will ensure that the Bishops will never know. If they find out, our little camp here is done for. We have nothing to defend us. Please, remain diligent in your duties, and if anyone asks, the Lamb is injured and recovering.”

Kali looked between her and their now-sedated leader, who appeared as a small lamb for once instead of the grand holy being the cult knew them to be.

Or thought them to be.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded. “If you or anyone here needs anything, let me know. Or let Theanno know.”

Zelva visibly relaxed, a tired smile finding its way onto her face. “Of course. Thank you, dear. We will get through this together, under Death’s grace.”

“Yes, ma’am. Praise the Lamb.”

Sleep was difficult to wrangle that night, and the next, and the next.

Kaliaphra stared at the roof of her tent as she silently begged to fall into the sweet abyss, but her thoughts granted her no such relief. She was too busy thinking about the events of the previous days, about Theanno’s words and Zelva’s worry and the Lamb’s evident amnesia.

“We’ve never seen them so hurt, right, so what happens if we lose them?”

“We will ensure that the Bishops will never know. If they find out, our little camp here is done for. We have nothing to defend us.”

Granted, it had hardly been half a week since the Lamb returned, but with how fast word spread about the camp, Kali was certain that all of the Lamb’s followers would know soon. If doubt grew among them, flowering into dissent, it would only be a matter of time before someone left and crawled back to the Bishops.

The Lamb was not improving.

Someone had to do something.

They needed help of divine levels, and she wondered, if nothing else, whether the Lamb’s sacred Red Crown would have some form of solution, even a temporary one. She’d seen its power in action before, when the Lamb took command over their fields during the Heket-inflicted famine. Surely it had something, like a barrier to put up around the grounds.

The only question was whether someone had to wear the Crown—or maybe even be skilled with it—for it to do something. Only one way to find out, she supposed.

Kaliaphra pushed herself up from her bedroll and cautiously poked her head outside, letting the tent flaps continue to obscure her some. She appeared to be lucky in that all lanterns around the residential area of the camp were out, save for the infirmary, which was still a large enough distance away that it wasn’t a threat.

She went through a mental checklist of members, trying to discern who did and didn’t have one of those moon pendants the Lamb had offered. The only one that came to mind was a medic, who was no doubt in the infirmary.

Assuming no one was guarding the Crown—and why would they, when anyone in the cult hardly separated it from its bearer in terms of fear and respect—she had a straight shot.

As swiftly as possible, Kali made a sprint for the temple. She dared not go slower, even if it meant a lesser likelihood of stepping on something loud, since it would be way more likely for someone to wake up for a snack or to use the outhouse. All she had to do was slip in through the semi-ajar door (which she mentally thanked Filip for, even if it was unintentional) and close it behind herself, which went off without a hitch.

A dim temple greeted her, the only light coming from the ever-lit candles on either side of the lectern. It was just enough to provide some visibility, even if both Kali and Theanno had great night vision to begin with, but more specifically on the Red Crown sitting upon the altar.

It was odd, seeing the Crown not on the Lamb’s head. While the Lamb, in their state, seemed much smaller than usual, the Crown without the Lamb felt larger than it should. More imposing, even. Its singular red eye remained wide open, and though its glow had dimmed significantly, she had the feeling it was anything but dormant as it stared through her.

She almost wanted to tell it to blink.

Nevertheless, Kali swallowed her unease and strode forward down the aisle just as she had been for something close to twenty years, which might as well have been two years with the enchanted pendants the Lamb had gifted her and Theo. It came second nature; little light needed to guide her.

Though she had never been afraid of the dark, her fur stood on end as she noticed the feeling of being watched. By the Crown? Perhaps, but… not quite.

With a bowed head, she stepped up to the altar. Her heart raced with the panic of I should not be here, I should not be the one standing at the altar, but she tried her best to shove it down. What she was doing was important and could possibly save the cult from being wiped out.

Kaliaphra lowered herself to kneel in front of the altar, bending until she was just under eye-level with the Red Crown and folding her hands neatly upon her lap. “I am… unsure if I should be addressing Death here, as I am simply looking at the Crown without its bearer, so I will plead with both god and tool.”

If the Crown could look expectant, it did.

“I fear for the safety of these people,” she began, letting her eyes fall shut. “I have only ever been afraid like this when the Lamb brought me here for the first time. I doubted then. Over time, I have grown to trust them with my life. But they have fallen. Not in death, but I am afraid this is worse. If it were death, The One Who Waits would surely revive them. Instead, they cannot be helped outside of medical attention, and even that is a waiting game.

“If the Bishops find this place, all will be executed for heresy. What shall be done? I would sacrifice anything to make this right. I would give my own life. What is my life in comparison to the many other lives being lived here? It is but a speck of dust.” Kali paused for a moment, cracking one eye open to check if the Crown was still paying attention. (What a silly thought, she mused. The Red Crown is not sentient.)

Its singular red eye stared back at her, unblinking and unmoving.

Somehow, that was more discouraging.

She sighed. “We were taught that The One Who Waits does not answer prayer directly. He speaks through his vessel in miracles, but they are the one to hear our pleas. What is left when the vessel forgets that they are a vessel? What is left when a fawn who loves her family has to leave them behind? Theanno… he is all I have of them here. I promised him that he would be safe in this place, under the Lamb.”

A growing desperation bubbled in her chest with each passing thought, and Kaliaphra found herself crawling forward to grasp the altar and stare into the Crown’s eye directly as her vision blurred. “Please, do you not understand how hopeless this is? I do not ask for much if you do not wish to give it, but the situation must be remedied! Tell me what I have to do! Help me!”

The plea rang out through the temple, bouncing off the walls again and again until it faded.

The Red Crown did nothing.

Bitterly, she had the passing thought that a no would’ve hurt less than this.

Kaliaphra pushed herself up to stand over the Crown upon the altar, wiping the few stray tears that had fallen. “…Foolish. I do not know why I thought Death would listen to one little follower, anyway. It was worth a—”

In a flash, a literal flash of red, the sacred artifact shifted forms.

No longer did she see the Red Crown as a crown, or at least not a full crown; the pointed tips of its top stretched and wrapped around and around each other to a point, leaving it in a vague lance shape in the span of milliseconds.

That is, she was only somewhat sure it came to a point. The end of the Crown was out of her view, even as she followed it from the altar closer to her and—

Through her chest.

Through her heart.

Out her back.

That was when she registered two things a second too late. One, the deafening squelch and crack of flesh and bone being driven through by, well, Crown. Two, the burning pain that felt more like a stream of red hot fire than a blade.

Kaliaphra screamed, agony tearing through her throat.

There was a fleeting thought that she just woke up the entire camp, but it was drowned by growing panic accompanied by the taste of iron in her mouth. Her throat was closing, but was it due to the blood, or was she in shock? Shit, she didn’t know enough about medicine to tell.

What she did know was that she was going to die.

She had asked to help her be rid of the situation.

Was this a sick joke?

Was it mercy?

To be put out of her misery?

Her hooves scraped weakly at the floor beneath her, the Crown’s sharp blade holding her just aloft with surprising strength—as if she weighed nothing to it. As she struggled to catch her breath, choking on it instead, a strangled bleat pulled itself from her in some desperate attempt to call for Theanno.

The Red Crown retracted then, its lance shape ripping from her chest and dropping her onto the wooden floor. Kaliaphra’s vision was flickering then, and a horrific numbness began to settle in. The floor grew wet beneath her, and she felt it pooling around her fingertips and ear as she lay discarded on her side.

What… did I do wrong?

A distant muffled bleat was the last thing she heard.

Then there was nothing.

When her eyes opened, Kaliaphra was blinded with white.

Given how dark the temple had just been, the change of brightness was undesirable. The sky above her was far too bright, and the ground beneath her was far too soft. Fluffy, almost.

Odd.

She turned her head to get a better look and was greeted not with a wooden floor, but with what appeared to be… clouds.

A discomfort upon her chest suddenly became apparent to her, both crushing and sharp, two different sensations. Images flashed through her memory. The eye, the blade, the blood.

The weighted sensation, she realized, was likely her stopped heart.

Kali moved to sit up, knocking something sitting on her chest onto her lap instead. When she looked down, she was greeted with the unblinking stare of the Red Crown.

“You,” she murmured, afraid of her voice carrying through the expanse. “What… did you do?”

There was no response, which had to be the most normal thing in the situation. It was still enough that one wouldn’t have known how it morphed to stab her only moments ago.

Kaliaphra huffed through her nose with growing annoyance. “Some help you are. Perhaps if I simply stay here and do not move, do not interact with anything, I will wake up from this nightmare. The Lamb will be fine, everyone will be safe, and everything will be as it should.”

“I know you’re there.”

A deep, rumbling voice reverberated around her, startling her and sending some of the clouds scattering. Kali looked up from her lap to fully survey her surroundings, and she took notice of a distant but massive figure bound in chains among the clouds. The image was familiar, one that the Lamb had explained vaguely to their flock from their times of indoctrination. Death had an incredibly recognizable appearance, all things considered.

She swallowed hard, a pit opening in her stomach.

The distance and the veil made it impossible for her to see his face, but she somehow knew that The One Who Waits was looking directly at her. “Come closer, little fawn,” the tall cat bishop purred. “In death, you will be of use to me.”

Kali looked back down at the Crown.

It looked back at her, and she’d almost expected it to give a meaningful glance toward said bishop. A go on gesture, in a sense. But it gave no such answer.

Once again, incredibly helpful.

She lifted the Crown from its place on her lap and pushed herself up, instinctively brushing off her tunic as if rising from the dirt instead. (It was silly, she acknowledged, but at least it could give her the appearance of being put together.)

Kaliaphra strode forward on shaking legs through the parting clouds. If she was to meet her god, she needed to be calm and collected, but her tight grip on the Crown did nothing to help.

As she grew closer, she noticed the two smaller cats kneeling on either side of the god. Their fur was a deep gray—not quite black—and their matching pairs of crimson eyes remained solely on her as she approached. The one on Death’s right donned black and red robes, while the one on his left had white robes. Both wore veils like their master, though theirs were slightly more transparent, hence why she could meet their intense stares.

She felt more like an intruder within their space. Her gaze snapped once again to the being in the middle, though she dared not look him in the eye, instead settling for the clouds at his feet.

The sound of her footsteps changed from soft pompfs of air to hooves on stone as she stepped onto a small circular platform painted with a pentagram, and she figured that was a good place to pause. Kali dipped low into a curtsey, one she had perfected during her time under the Bishop Shamura, but said nothing. The common rule within the Silk Cradle was do not speak unless spoken to.

Given how she was standing before Death, she didn’t feel like testing the limits with other gods.

“Polite little thing,” said The One Who Waits, finally. “What a refreshing change of pace. Stand, little fawn, and let me see you.”

Without a second thought, she complied, raising her gaze enough to find the bottom edge of his veil.

“How peculiar that you would enter my domain with my Crown in your hands. I entrusted that Crown to The Lamb. How is it, then, that you hold it, mere follower?”

Despite having little-to-no control over that exact situation, Kali stuttered, “I mean no disrespect by it, my lord! The Lamb is—”

He held up one skeletal hand to stop her. “I am well aware of what has befallen my vessel. It is… inconvenient, to say the least. Since The Lamb is neither dead nor dying, I can do nothing to assist. Truly a setback.” Jagged teeth became more visible as the corners of his mouth curled upward. “But no matter. You worry for the safety of your flock, do you not? That is why you volunteered your life.”

Kaliaphra bit her lip anxiously for a moment. She did offer her life to the Crown in panic, didn’t she? While she certainly didn’t expect to stand before The One Who Waits in order to fulfill that statement, there really were only so many ways such an offer would come to fruition. “What… What would you have me do, my lord? I am just a deserter who can only somewhat mince fish and cauliflower.”

“Ah… but you can brandish a knife, then?” The God of Death inclined his head in what she faintly recognized to be a patronizing manner. “While you may not believe it, that is more than The Lamb could say when they first appeared before me. Rejoice in your abilities, for they will save your hide in battle.”

“B-Battle, my lord?”

She swore she saw the cat at his right snicker from her question.

“Battle,” he repeated. “Despite the façade you put on, I know you are familiar with it. I have seen you cut down many an enemy during your time as a soldier trainee.”

Ah, damn it. “Oh, I, uh—“

“And yet you lie to my face.” The ever-present grin dropped abruptly. “Fear lingers in you despite your experience, Kaliaphra. I will be merciful just this once.”

Kali’s breath hitched as terror took its choking hold on her. He knew her name. He knew her by name. “Forgive me, please! I would have been upfront about it, but… it has been some time since I fought last.”

The One Who Waits waved a hand. “It has become instinct for you, nonetheless, one that you will utilize while you bear the Crown.”

It was like ice had been dumped over her. She dared to meet his gaze, finally. “…My lord?”

“A temporary vessel,” he clarified, his wide smile of sharp teeth returning. “You shall take on the duties of the Lamb until they can return once more. Tend to the flock. Venture forth on crusades. Spread faith and influence. Slay my traitorous siblings. That is for which you have volunteered your life.”

She stared up at him, up at the gleeful unblinking trio of red eyes behind a veil, and found no trace of humor. No ounce of empathy. The One Who Waits was placing her in the position of leader against her will. If she should decline…

One clawed hand, belonging to the white-robed cat in white on Death’s left, twitched as if he’d heard her thought.

Ah. She couldn’t.

To decline meant death. No doubt it would be an insult to the bishop himself. She had no other option.

“It will not be for an eternity,” The One Who Waits purred, “that much I can swear with the assumption that my vessel recovers. Should they not, your position will become a permanent one. Do we have an understanding, fawn?”

As much as she wanted to do otherwise, Kaliaphra lowered herself back into a deep curtsy. “Y…Yes, my lord. I will do everything in my power to serve you.”

“Good. Do not disappoint me. Unlike the Lamb, you are incredibly replaceable.”

The pentagram lit up beneath her feet, and her soul left the Below with a new weighing dread upon it.

Kaliaphra propped herself up with one arm and promptly vomited onto the floor next to the altar.

Her chest ached, not with the pain of the fatal wound but with anxiety and horror. She was faintly aware that she had, in fact, returned to the living world, but she was waiting for the pounding of her heart to cease before fully taking stock.

Was she dreaming? Surely, she had been dreaming. In her panic to do something about the Lamb’s situation, she had run into the temple and… hit her head. Passed out. That was the only logical option. Or, better yet, all of that was a dream, too; she’d eaten some wild mushrooms by mistake and had a wild dream as a result.

…Why did her head feel so heavy?

Something, some form of light, reflected off of the polished quartz altar, startling Kali. As she turned her head back to further investigate, the colored light reflected again—red. Once she sat still, the steady red glow remained… just above her head, if the silhouette was anything to go by. Was that…

She raised one hand up to grab it, but the crash of the temple doors startled her into dropping her hand and pushing herself onto her feet.

“Kaliaphra,” came the clipped voice of Zelva as she led what looked like the entire cult into the room. “What on earth is—Are you wearing the Red Crown?”

Her eyes ran over the assembling crowd, already trying to think of a way out of facing them yet. Was there one, though? Was it right to wait, if this was in fact really happening? Was there even a way for her to answer without looking like a fool? “Y…Yes, I am.”

The old turtle scoffed incredulously. “Stars above, no one should be touching it but the Lamb. And—is that… blood? Vomit? Child, are you drunk?”

“No!” she snapped back, the weight of the eyes on her immensely present. “I am not drunk. I… I have…”

But she trailed off, uncertain how exactly to explain the situation. Kali’s eyes skimmed the assembled followers, searching desperately for reassurance, for familiarity, for her cousin’s eyes among colleagues, friends, acquaintances, accusers.

In the doorway, familiar horns just barely fit in the doorway.

She held her breath, a long moment, then began again. “I have spoken to The One Who Waits. It appears that he has placed me in the Lamb’s position until they recover. And I know that sounds insane, but…” She looked down at herself, reaching up to run her fingers over the tender flesh where her impalement wound had been. The skin there was still agitated and raw, like a fresh scar had just formed. “I died, I believe. That was the commotion you heard. If you will just—”

“A’right,” huffed Chifre, the rhinoceros in charge of behavior enforcement, as he stepped through the crowd toward her. “Take the Crown off, c’mon.”

Anxiety flipped to annoyance in just a moment, and she straightened her spine stubbornly. “I cannot. I now have a duty to uphold, it seems.”

“No, you don’t. Take it off, or I’ll take it myself. Playtime’s over, kid.”

“I am not a child!”

Her voice boomed through the space, and she would’ve taken notice of how it split apart if it weren’t for the flash of bright red, almost like lightning, that illuminated it all. The light seemed to startle the crowd more than her, as they all scrambled back several feet from the altar, eyes blown wide.

They… weren’t looking at her.

Kaliaphra turned, slowly, and looked up to the front wall of the temple.

Over the wood and stained glass, there resided a massive shadow, one of distinct silhouette, stretching across the pulpit floor to the wall and traveling up to touch the ceiling. The body, with its tall feline ears and glowing trio of eyes, was incredibly familiar to Kali herself. Its limbs, clearly defined as skeletal and crude, extended over the walls and arched across the temple floor. There, the claws of bone hovered around the place where the deer stood, as if claiming her—his plaything, perhaps.

Separate from the shadow, Kaliaphra was graced with the whisper of feeling bone brush her cheek. It was a distant mockery of sentiment, but it made her heart leap into her throat all the same.

“Stand tall, my vessel,” the voice of The One Who Waits purred into her ear. “They will learn to fear you in time.”

Then, with another flash of red light, it was all gone. Kali and the others were left standing in an empty temple, shellshocked at what had just occurred.

They stared at her, no longer annoyed, but hesitant. As if they didn’t know what to do.

Across the crowd, Kaliaphra’s gaze finally found her cousin’s, meeting eyes wide in something between awe and terror. He ran his gaze over her form, inspecting her, she thought, hesitating on the blood stain on her shirt, then the glowing crown, and then back to meet her eyes in turn, looking for something, the same safety they’d promised one another for years.

Then, finding it, whatever he was looking for, his expression calmed, pride replacing the fear as a grin stretched over his cheeks. He bent his knee, head still raised, unwilling to break her gaze, yet folding over nevertheless.

A bow, she realized. He is bowing. To… to me?

“My Fawn,” Theanno called.

The followers nearest to him looked back, murmurs rippling through them, noises and expressions flickering wildly between surprise and… uncertainty, perhaps, before looking back to the crown that now rested on her brow.

Then, with the same subtle confidence, one follower after another bent at the knee, their gazes turning to the ground.

“My Fawn.”

“My Fawn!”

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cloverthegrand · 1 year

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IT FEELS BETTER BITING DOWN

#cw: gore #cw: blood #puss in boots #puss in boots 2 #puss in boots wolf #puss in boots death #big bad wolf #death wolf #spoilers #lobo #major character death

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puck-draws · 11 months

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Genloss was so good I love sillyduo and I need to see more ☹️

Likes and reblogs so so so appreciated 🫶

I usually draw JRWI so If you like those goobers come on over!!

#major blood tw #tw gore #cw: gore #gore #tw blood #genloss #generation loss #gen loss #generation loss fanart #genloss fanart #gen loss fanart #charlie slimesicle fanart #charlie slimecicle #ranboo #ranboo fanart #genloss spoilers #gen loss spoilers #art #fanart

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thesockbehindthewashingmachine · 16 days

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lisa frankenstein au

Im not a writer!! Im just bored! Idk how to tag these so. Major character death, violence

@hhappier-in-hell

Song to listen to while reading: i drove all night- cindi lauper

She ran her hand over his face, brushing his hair behind Janet's, no, HIS ear. He leans into the touch, those sad eyes saying more than he could, even if he did have vocal chords that worked.

"It's the only way," she whispers, and he holds her a little tighter, his arms around her waist. She can't tell which one of them is responsible for the trembling. His eyes water. Two hours ago, she would have made fun of the smell, but now she couldn't care less, gently wiping her thumb under his eye as he looked up at her.

How long has it been, his eyes not leaving hers? How long have they been sitting there, clinging on to life, or whatever sick version of it they had together? Clinging onto each other, his fingertips leave bruises that she won't be alive long enough to see form.

There they sit for a moment longer, only breaking eye contact when they hear the sirens. "I want this to mean something. I want it all to mean something. You proved that you love me; let me prove that I love you," Lisa says with a sniff, gently putting her hand over his, moving them both directly above her heart. "Take it, please."

Her voice is softer than she's comfortable with. This is the kind of moment she would make fun of in movies. The sirens get closer, and she's grateful for the screeching sound that hides the sob she's trying to push down. She wonders, for a moment, if he can tell how terrified she is.

"I probably shouldn't ask what dying feels like, huh?" He shakes his head, his eyes back on hers. He leans in for one last kiss, and she kisses back, knowing it was a distraction. All she can do is wait, and she does, her lips connected to his as gently as possible given their... unique situation.

Finally, she feels the pain of his hand shoving through her chest, gripping her heart gently. She never realized how long a second could be or how much pain she could truly feel.If this wasn't her death, she would have a new appreciation for the word "agony."

She wonders if she's dead yet, every nerve in her body screaming, despite her outward silence. He doesn't let go of her, even after he's removed her heart. His heart now. Her last gift to him. A life for a life, short lived but satisfying.

The last thing she sees is one of his hands grasping the sewing needle, the other hand moving away from her for just a second to turn on the tanning bed.

She realizes in her last moments that she has no idea if it’ll even work, if a beating heart alone is enough to revive a boy that’s been dead longer than she was alive. She’s giving her life for a shot in the dark, but strangely she doesn’t regret it as he gently shuts her eyes for the last time.

#lisa frankenstein #lisa swallows #major character death #Violence #cw: gore

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digitaldoeslmk · 7 months

Note

HEY SO DID TJAT HAPPEN TO MK WHEN HE PICKED UP THE STAFF OR-

oh don't worry, that was not when he picked it up uwu

it was a week or so after he punted DBK back underground in the pilot special. he's not invincible right off the bat but he's def overconfident, so he gets nabbed by a big shot demon who wanted to test the limits of the human-demon truce. and um, he gets eaten.

not kirby eaten. no, he gets butchered and prepared for a whole ass meal and then eaten in a feast. except he doesn't die, he just reforms inside the demon's stomach and tears his way out like a simian chestburster, and well, kills his way out of the cave mansion. cus yknow, survival at all costs.

he's invincible after that but lmao at what cost xD

#lmk au #cw gore #cw cannibalism #cw sentient food #cw major character death #except not lololol #he gets better <3 #by the book au

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yagabodigity · 14 days

Text

Dallas sat up groggily, the sound and feeling of a steady drip on his face awakening him from his already fitful sleep. As Dallas rubbed his eyes and tried to shake off the remnants of sleep, he couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance at the incessant drip. He wondered how long it had been going on and if it was a sign of a bigger problem in the safehouse. As Dallas blinked his bleary eyes, he took in his dimly lit surroundings. Guilt had been eating away at his conscience for years, and it only worsened with the news of his colleague's death. HE had made the call, HE had made the decision to leave Hoxton behind. He rubbed his face and looked at his hand, curious about the leak. He looked up at the ceiling, and his blood ran cold at what he saw. He saw Hoxton on the ceiling, a bloody wound on his head and his skin ghostly blue. Dallas's heart pounded in his chest as he stumbled back. Horror and regret flooded his senses as he realized what the fluid dripping onto his face was, and who it belonged to. The weight of his guilt crashed over him, leaving him paralyzed with shock and disbelief. "It's all your fault" the phantom said. HOXTON PRISON DEATH AU!!!!!!

#hoxton #payday 2 #alternate universe #dallas #fanart #oneshot #slight blood #cw: gore #major character death

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catnykit · 4 months

Text

𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 #𝟙 𝔸 ℙ𝕆𝕆ℝ 𝔻𝔼𝕍𝕀𝕃

𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠

AHJSOWNXOQNIXNQ I CANT BELIVE I'LL FINALLY WRITE ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTERS AAAAAAA

TY ALL MUTUALS AND PEOPLE TO INSPIRE ME TO DO THAT

THIS IS JUST A BLOOD LOSS WHUMP DRAFT,BUT WHO CARES AAAAAAA

pls tell me if you want to be tagged for more stuff like this idk

Word count: 1674

𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠

Warnings

;Suicide/suicide attempt

Blood loss

Torture hints/mentions

✨️Trauma,Of course

Mourning(????? Mild mourning???

Self hatred

Major character death :)

All warnings happen almost randomly,But not immediatly,Like— I gotta first explain and then the fuss happens you know

𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿 𓁹 𓁿 𓁹

The dizzness was starting to became hard to ignore

Damm,It was expected,You cant lock yourself in the bathroom after accidentally torturing an innocent and then go free like nothing

Well,In her defense,Carmen did not knew that liam was innocent

Now she was the monster here,Isnt she? She had good meanings,The suspect's actions were too much to get ignored by the police Even if she was there,All by herself,She could still hearing her friend's cries that night....

She didnt know what happen in the woods until she saw wesley,Her best friend,Cover in a blanket while sitting in the border of an ambulance

They were shaking,All bloody.Carmen couldnt let the things like that!! Since childhood carmen was told she was 'way too impulsive' And why would they care?! She only did what was needed

Blood didnt stop coming as the yells didnt stopped. They wanted her to go out of the bathroom. Now.

Of course,The needed was to kidnap liam and torture them just like he did with wesley....

So one good day,She grab choloform and kidnap him in the middle of the night

How fun!,Guts,Blood,Burns,And a little syringue to make sure they dont pass out

The begs where even more satisfactory considering that,It was probabily how wesley beg in liam's hands,he deserve it!

What was not fun Was the call....

After being done with liam,And without any more ideas She decided to call wesley!,Yay!

Little problem,She did not tell wesley anything about her little plan ....Carmen was sure they would accept no matter what.

Or maybe she fogot it? In all the rage?

Staying awake was hard,Breathing was hard. She deserved it thought. They were always right and this wasnt the exception.

or Atleast thats why she throught

It didnt matter now

God,Wesley was mad.

So,So mad :(

And they had the right to be it! It was the wrong person!! Carmen is the heartless monster In here.....Atleast that was Wes said.....

"B-But I did it for.... you!"

"YOU'RE A MONSTER— I CANT BELIVE SOMEONE CAN BE THIS...TORTUROUS!"

God,And they used to be friends

Dear fucking God,It was truth....

Liam was aslo bleeding out,Atleast kind of

Carmen was so careless that she sewed up the wound with the first Thing she found,It wouldnt last forever

But the diference is that wesley was there for him

Such a backstabbed!,Or was she?

Did it care anyway?

Why was wesley yelling at her to get out?

Why did they wanted her alive?

Wesley was just there,Outside the bathroom,Trying to get who was once his friend out,For their own fucking sake

Liam was still there too,Watching quietly the blood stain the floor under the bathroom's door;All while squirming slighty In pain

The sedatives of the first aid kit did barely anything,Atleast he wasnt crying

Wesley was scared too,Goddamit,They were way too scared of anything that happen

Why the fuck did they told carmen about it? Knowing how she was?

It didnt matter now,They went mad and they know it.

They aslo knew that she was way too sensitive for reasons that they told eachother on countless outings to eat, walks, just being together

The worst part it was how close they were from eachother,And how that somewhat end in this absolute Mess

Now wesley has to cope with Not one,But two persons bleeding out.

Why do they always need to be so rude?

They felt way too guilty too

Guilty about the person in the couch who didnt hurt them,But everyone thought against it because they say "He look similar"

Well,They didnt know it was gonna end like this.

They didnt know how Mad carmen was for someone hurting them

How much Rage in order to find someone to blame

It wasnt till then that they noticed The stain that they relized it. All the restroom was quiet since they kick the door open to the basment And find their best friend torturing an innocent person,Liam They didnt think carmen could do this and yet? It was there Just there And the worst part its that All was Her fault,Thats what she thought. Carmen was alredy blood-stained when she run upstairs trying to hide from wesley,Who didnt stop yelling at her how much of an horrible person she was And in part,It was right,The problem is that She alredy knew that. She alredy knew that So when wesley saw the blood under the door,open the damm bathroom door, He wasnt ready. He had to leave liam just to... Just to see it? How one of the most important persons in his life was laying om a pool of her own blood.

Well,She regret it.

How do you deal with the thought that you're a monster who deserved to be put down?

Its not like somebody would care anyway,Is not like they would care anyway

by this point,The blood lossed was enough to just

Pass out

Wesley was terryfied. Standing there,In the bathroom door....

Liam was still laying on the couch,In pain after Everything that carmen put them throught horryfing torture...

How was they supposed to fix this?

Was it any way to do it,Was it possible?

And now they were crying.Over the dying figure of someone who tried to be a good person And failed.

𓃠 𓃬𓃠

Carmen was...confusing

A year ago,They were the one in an ambulance

And they werent that...bad

wesley remembered how bad it was... They remember a strong hand dragging them to the white van They do remember the pain,They got beat up and starved But that was nothing compared to what carmen did to liam

What was most heartbreaking it was that there was no "villian" to blame

The ones who actually kidnap them were in fact,An entire gang.

They got confused following instructions and end up getting the wrong guy

Wesley

The gang promised them that,If they didnt say a word they would free them and never meet agaim

Wesley accepted

And now they're here

With two people on the ambulance

All because they didnt talk...and because carmen went insane

was it her fault tho?? Wanting revengue for her friend??

Was it wesley's fault? They were too focused on trying to keep liam alive they didnt notice when carmen— ... Carmen was only concern. It was her fault the way she decided to be ruthless about it But she didnt deserve...death. She thought she did tho That was wesley's fault.

Wesley was shocked when carmen,Practically drunk called him to say to him that she kidnap one of the suspect and gut him alive.

And other unspeakable stuff that left Liam way more broken than Wesley. All in one night.

The second worst night!— who would guess it...

Wesley tried to get an first aid kit being on the restroom, trying to atleast help liam

Even so,They did not measure their words....

Carmen felt hurt. Attacked,Even so!

by a Friend. That she thought she could trust... But could she? They instead called her inhuman and disgusting Because? Just for wanting revengue? Camen felt alredy sick when she lock the bathroom door and got left alone with her thoughts... Thoughts that didnt stop ominously chanting what wesley said. Liam was innocent you heartless monster.

Liam was innocent.

Liam was fucking innocent

All this time it was wrong

Because liam. Was. Innocent.

There was no one to blame more than the monster that looked back in the mirror The monster that did all of that to an innocent person The monster that cried while hearing who was supposed to be their friend yell at her for all that she has done Nothing but a fox that deserved to be put down

She was gonna get killed anyway,If she didnt do it,The police would.

So...she did it

Eventually wesley give up and just stay,Trying to keep liam alive

Wesley thought that carmen would just hide in the bathroom

The police would kick the door open and all would be over

Carmen felt backstabbed.

Wesley wouldnt even care,Probabily.

He did.

He did when they understood that it went more far than that....

She was dying. Atleast liam was stable She wasnt. Wheb the ambulance finally arrived to the place,Wesley finally got to open the door snd rushed to her The cuts in the wrist were too deep. Too bad. While he tried to hold on her,To just try to stop the bleeding and made her sit up,To just have a last moment!... She lean in his ear whispered with hatred,Her voice straned because of the blooe loss

:"Hypocrite."

the whisper of the devil. A self-proclaimed demon

Wesley was destroyed

Liam was healing

And carmen died. That very night,Commited suicide

All because wesley went mad. All because they didnt say a word

All because carmen was impulsive,And ruthless

All the pain for revengue,All the death for guilt

All for nothing at all.

𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠 𓁹𓃠

YAYYYYYYYY I FINISH IT

TYSM ALL OF U

@theres-whump-in-that-nebula

@sillywhumpcreature

@whumpy-wyrms

(The ones who anwsered the last post :3)

Pls tell me if you want a taglist,I think im gonna do more content if you guys like this <3

i gotta admiiit this wasnt what I had in mind buuut...again is just a draft sooo

Yeah

This is literally the First one

If this gets 10 notes or something imma start the next

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yellowcry · 4 months

Text

All the heavy things she can(not) shoulder

Luisa never wanted this to happed, she never thought that Bruno's tower would actually be dangerous enough for Mirabel to... She never wanted to kill her own sister. But the result was painted in red

There was so much red...

TW: character's death

Luisa felt like her heart would just break through her ribcage in any moment; she kept choking on air frantically as the thoughts about losing her gift kept jumping in her head from place to place. What was she supposed to do now? She felt weak, her entire life was crumbling down just from the idea of not being strong anymore.

She rushed upstairs, feeling like she would just scream in panic at any moment. The idea of being weak was something terrifying. Luisa never imagined herself without her strength; it was inextricably from herself. What would she do now?! It's...

Luisa stopped dead in her track.

There, on the second floor, leaning against the wall, Isabela held Mirabel. The side of the younger girl's head was engored, tilting on the side as if her neck snapped; her curls looked wet. And there was red, so much red. Her blouse was now soaked with blood, turning into a dark red colour instead of the normal white. Mirabel's body was limp, and Luisa could see broken bones protruding out of her skin. A quiet and serene expression was frozen in Mirabel's face. Lifeless eyes were open wide; her green glasses weren't around.

Any thoughts about her gift dissipated from Luisa's head as she stared at the sight with terror, her brain refused to acknowledge what her eyes saw right in front of her. It wasn't real; Mirabel wasn't... But no, Mirabel was lifeless, covered in her own blood, lying limp like a doll.

"What... happened?" Luisa's voice went out hoarse and way too quiet, to the point where even Dolores' whispering speech would sound like screams. "She didn't... She's not..." Luisa couldn't bring herself to say the word that was spinning on the tip of her tongue.

Isabela nodded slightly, and Luisa's world just crushed like a glass jar against the floor, the older woman's entire body kept trembling, and Luisa could swear that she had never seen her hernama crying so much. "Bruno's tower... Dolores said..."

Luisa froze; her entire body tensed as she kept looking at Mirabel. Bruno's tower.... She... She had... Luisa's mind stopped completely as she stared nowhere. Losing Mirabel was one thing, but this...

Isabela perceived the quiet gasp as the question. "I... I don't know why she..." Her voice was shaking as she desperately tried to explain, but Luisa didn't listen.

Isabela might not know what happened, but Luisa did. She knew why Mirabel went in there. She... She was the one to suggest it. Luisa...

Luisa had killed her own sister.

Everything stopped. The same words flooded her head with a heavy realisation, as her legs felt like they would collapse in any moment now. Luisa was gasping on air, staring at the ground; her shoulders shook in terror. Luisa hunched over, proceeding with what happened. Mirabel died. Because Luisa couldn't keep her mouth shut. Luisa was used to carrying heavy things. She could lift anything without a single sweat drop. But this? It weighed more than anything. If Luisa, even without her gift, had to lift all the things she ever had, it would be easier than a feather compared to this. Guilt could just crush Luisa completely, killing her in the very same moment. It's not like she didn't deserve it anyway.

She was breathing frantically, sounding like she was sobbing, but no tears came out; they all disappeared from shock. Her knees buckled, and Luisa fell to the floor, leaning on her hands. Mirabel was there, lying breathless in Isabela's arms, and it was all her fault. In this moment, the entire world dissapeared; it was just Luisa and this deep sense of guilt twitching her guts, threating to just crush her like a tiny bug.

Luisa should have been the one to go inside this cursed tower, the one to die from... whatever had happened to Mirabel. Losing her gift was the least thing Luisa deserved. Maybe that's why her gift disappeared... The candle had punished her. And did Luisa actually deserve her gift after what happened? No, she didn't.... It was completely her fault that Mirabel was dead. Knowing that her baby sister was dead was one thing, but the fact that Luisa was the one to lead Mirabel into the open arms of death was different. The idea of the fact that Luisa wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough, just wasn't here to help was nothing compared to guilt over the fact that Luisa was directly involved in bloody stains on her hermanas bodies.

She saw her mother rushing past her, directly to Mirabel, taking her limp, soaked in blood body into her arms. Dolores followed after quickly. Luisa could hear her mom's frantical painful whispering, but she wasn't able to make out the words she had said. Dolores reached for Luisa, trying to help her stand up. Somehow, Luisa managed to crawl to the wall, now sitting against it. Her body was way too heavy to stand; she just kept staring nowhere.

"I'm fine..." She breathed out, hoping that Dolores would leave her alone... Did her cousin know what happened? Luisa gasped in terror. Of course, Dolores knew... She... She knew what Luisa did. To whom else did she tell?

Maybe Luisa would just be kicked out now or go to jail. She was a murderer. Mirabel was fifteen; she was still a child, still too young for this. Luisa threw a quick glance at the rest of her family but wasn't able to stand it even for a second; she was stunned, unable to look at this. What would she even say? What kind of words would Luisa use to explain herself? There was no excuse for what happened. Luisa wanted to scream, but her vocal cords were stiff, refusing to let out a single sound. She knew that there was a reason why it was forbidden to go into Tío's room, and yet, she still asked Mirabel to find that vision.

It didn't matter what Luisa wanted, what intentions she had. Because, in the end, the result was painted in red. So much red...

She couldn't bring herself to get closer to anyone, to mourn with her family; they were broken because of Luisa; Mirabel was dead because of Luisa; her entire life was lost. And for what? For the stupid vision? For her big sister, who was supposed to protect her but ended up leading Mirabel straight to her death.

How would Luisa live, how would she wake up in the morning, knowing that her hermanita lost her life because of her? There was no going back; their mom couldn't raise the dead. If only there was a way to fix it... Luisa would do anything; she would willingly give out her strength; she would just go into this tower hersel. If only there was a way to go back in time and fix this, to prevent it all...

But there was no going back. Mirabel was now a cold and lifeless corpse, and Luisa would just have to live with this. With the fact that she had killed her hermanita... And Luisa could never forgive herself. She didn't deserve forgiveness or mercy for this. She knew that this guilt would stay in her heart forever, crushing her soul to tiny pieces, twitching her guts, and tearing apart her mind. Luisa could never escape it.

She was sorry, really. She never wanted this to happen.

#encanto#ao3 author#fanfic#luisa madrigal#mirabel madrigal#isabela madrigal

Опубликовать

yellowcry

#encanto #ao3 author #fanfic #luisa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #isabela madrigal #tw major character death #cw gore

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langernameohnebedeutung · 9 months

Text

iZombie S01E13: Blaine's World

#Your honour he was getting carried away by the excitement of wearing a new jacket #major lilywhite #blaine debeers #izombie #fandom #cw gore #cw body horror #cw injury #cw death

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aceofsweets · 1 year

Text

Keep Smiling! [ 🔑 ]

Oh my god, im writing!!!!! omg!!!! anyways first Project: Eden's Garden fic on the blog, rejoice brothers! this fic is dedicated to Wolfgang Akire and angst! wonderful thing to greet yall with!, jokes aside please take caution when reading the fic because i forgot how to write

Cw: Mentions of Murder, Project: Eden's Garden Prologue Spoilers, Character Death (specifically Reader Death), Slight Gore. [ IF CONTENT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, EXIT THE FIC. ]

Pairing: Wolfgang Akire x Reader. Genre: Angst. Note: Reader has no specified gender, Reader is the Ultimate Merchant, Reader replaces a specific character, Wolfgang might be OOC and Reader uses S/O in the fic.

[ NONE OF THIS IS PROOFREAD BTW. ]

Maybe he shouldn't have accepted the letter sent by Eden's Garden Academy.

Accepting it only made his life more...difficult.

Painful, even.

. . . . .

"Hey hey Wolfgang! Wolfgang look at what I found for you!" ah, your voice, your voice made his heart run a marathon but at least it's in a good way. He smiled back at you. "Ah, [S/O], good to see you!"

You ran up to the Ultimate Laywer to show him what you got for him "look at what I got~" it was those magnet necklaces that are usually worn by couples or friends, the thought of sharing a matching necklace with you made his heart skip a beat.

"W....Where exactly did you get this from?" "Uh the internet obviously." he tried to keep his composure, but to be completely honest, you were the Ultimate Merchant, it was to be expected you'd find something from importers and others.

"So?" he looked at you in confusion "so....what?" he asked "are you gonna wear it or not?" you said, pouting somewhat. "a-ah! my apologies [S/O]." he apologized while smiling awkwardly, you could've sworn there was a sweat drop coming from his face. "Wolfie, don't apologize! jeez you take things too seriously." you giggle, his face turns into an embarrassing obvious shade of red "awwww!~ you're so cute when you're flustered Wolfie!~" you teased, both the nickname and extensive teasing from you made him blush even more, but he'll let that slide, for now he'll just enjoy your presence.

For now that is.

. . . . .

In present times, it's much different, having accepted the letter from Eden's Garden Academy only brought him into a new life, a new life that'll be absolute hell.

Your warmth was no longer with him, mainly due to the fact you didn't get an acceptance letter which relieved him, but it doesn't change the fact hes alone.

Having to wake up in what seems to be a dining hall and kitchen was the second weirdest thing aside from being knocked out by some gas on the train. He was thinking, nothing is audible in that mind until...

THUD!

That scared him really bad and it showed. "Oi! soybean are ya gonna say something or gawk in fear all day?!"

Okay, this woman was really, really loud. "Ah...forgive me for staring, I was...startled you could say." he said while having to force a slight chuckle at the end of the sentence.

"Yeah yeah...ya gotta be lucky I ain't gonna punch you or something!" the woman with the visor said "mhm...." he said while having a worried look on his face, was this really someone attending a prestigious academy? Tick....Tick....Tick

It's quiet, but aside from that. Minutes went by and he got the name of the loud woman with a visor, Grace Madison. The Ultimate Golfer. He was baffled by how young she looked but he can't really say anything when he himself is 22 and is known for being the Ultimate Lawyer at such a young age.

Later on, he met a blonde male with emerald eyes, a raven-haired female with blue eyes, and finally, a young child who claims to be the Ultimate Matchmaker. What a peculiar group.

As more time went on, he met more people ranging from different ages, at most 14-20, they all went outside as a group, to introduce themselves at least.

Toshiko Kayura, the young Ultimate Matchmaker decided to introduce the Ultimate Lawyer. "Ahem, Along with Grace Madison, we have the mighty and prestigious Wolfgang Akire!-" "-Hes well known as the Ultimate Lawyer."

Wolfgang smiled at the young girl's apparent enthusiasm when introducing him "...Yes, that's correct."

Suddenly, a crimson haired female spoke up and said "oh, hey hey lawyer man." the new nickname made him a tad bit confused "l-laywer man? Is that your name for me?" he asked.

"Yup! It's either that or Wolfie. Do you like Wolfie more?" the girl said, suddenly, his confusion washed away, rather, a new expression came on his face, something unreadable, as if he was contemplating something. "Wolfie..." it was the same nickname you gave him, the moment he starts thinking about you, is the moment he feels a tad bit hurt. He misses you so much.

"Ya good?" Grace asked "Of course!... just stay with what you already have." he said, but the more he thought of the nickname, the more he thought of you, were you doing okay? were you safe? were you fine without him by your side? so many questions flooded his mind as introductions went on until...

Ding Dong, Bing Bong.

The speaker turned on!

"Testing. Testing. One two three..." a rather mysterious yet sophisticated voice spoke. "Can everyone hear me?" asked the voice, yet nobody responded. "Yes? Great!" Wolfgang was confused yet suspicious of the voice speaking, a loud ahem is heard. "Good morning my amicable student friends! First off, allow me to apologize. I realize the ride here was a bumpy one, especially for Ultimates such as yourselves...But expect things to be different within these halls!" the voice said. "Yes, it is my pleasure and privilege to welcome you all to Eden's Garden Academy. May this be the beginning of a wondrous journey!"

The crimson haired girl or rather, Cassidy said "did he just say...we're at Eden's Garden Academy?" Damon proceeded to say: "No...We can't be." Jett proceeded to say something but it was somewhat cut off by Wenona saying, "Stop talking so loud, I want to hear this."

Shortly after that, the voice continued. "I'm sure you're on the edge of your seats waiting for a proper orientation, but there's one more thing to do before we can meet face to face! It won't take very long. All I ask is that you enter the building across from me. From there, we can begin preparations for a formal introduction. Until then, farewell!"

...Click!

...

Well, that was...interesting.

Commotion started spreading around the courtyard. After a short bit of chattering and deciding what to do, everyone stood in front of the entrance, nobody willing to enter first.

Eventually, Damon mustered up the willpower to open the entrance and...

... No. ... You were there...but... ...

No. ... It was too much....

No, Stop It. ...

The sight was horrid, you were laying there, battered and bloody. Your clothes were wrinkled and soaked with dried, pink, blood. What laid next to you were was a knife with flecks of dried up blood, and a gun.

...

"AHHH!" Toshiko's blood curdling scream echoed through the hallway. "EEEEEEK!?" Eloise's panicked cry followed soon after. In a flash, everyone started panicking.

But Wolfgang...he was...pained.

He couldn't move a single muscle

He couldn't breathe.

And for a moment...

A tear rolls down his cheek.

He tried to stop them but he couldn't.

The tears kept flowing.

If that wasn't enough, his body moved on it's own.

He ran to your bloodied body.

"[S/O]..." he tried to wake you up, hoping it was just some sort of prank, you liked to pull those off! You're joking.

Right?

....

RIGHT?

He tried everything, slightly shaking you, tapping you. How come he never saw you? Where were you...you weren't on the train-- so why are you here?

Please answer him. He'll do anything.

"[S/O]. [S/O] please...this...isn't funny anymore. Wake up." he couldn't stop the flow of his own tears. Everyone looked at the lawyer with different emotions plastered onto their faces. Shock, Worry, Pity. All of those emotions.

He remembered something. A promise you two made.

...

"Hey Wolfie! You do know I bought these necklaces for another reason!" you said cheerfully. "Oh? and what is this other reason?" he asked, his interest has clearly been piqued.

"A reason!" "What...reason exactly?"

"A reason that even if it's raining or shining we'll stick together! Even if we do get busy!" you said with the biggest smile on your face "they are magnetic necklaces so they'll also signify our bond with each other!" he chuckled at that. "[S/O], I'm going to Eden's Garden Academy...I'll be rather busy tho.."

"Who cares?! I'll be waiting for you till the very end! Plus we still have to go to that bakery that's opening in a few months! You can make time for that right?" he smiled "of course." "pinky promise????" "pinky promise."

...

Hes holding onto your clothing for dear life, like if he lets go then you'll disappear.

"[S/O]...we still have to go to the bakery opening in a few months remember...? We made a promise..." he buries his face into your neck, trying to muffle his sniffles and tears, but it's no use.

"Just come back..."

Seconds sped up to minutes, it took Jean, Jett and hell even Damon to convince the lawyer to stand up on his feet.

But even then he looked tired.

Discussions of how you died turned into investigations, which he isn't angry about.

He just wants to know who did this to you. He wants to bring this killer to justice. He wants to avenge you, one way or another.

No matter what it takes.

Your death will not go in vain.

Okay, hot damn is this kinda poorly written! but anyways guys Merry Christmas, have me writing as a gift!

Word Count: 1542 Characters: 8631 Characters W/O Spaces: 7185

Happy holidays everyone! Stay safe and healthy!

-Parfait Cookie!~ [ MIDDY . ]

#Wonderful Christmas present!#Merry Crisis everyone #Happy New Year!#Project: Eden's Garden.#Project: Eden's Garden x Reader.#Wolfgang Akire.#Wolfgang Akire x Reader.#MIDDY [ WRITES. ]#MIDDY [ ONESHOTS. ]#MIDDY [ PROJECT: EDEN'S GARDEN. ]#MIDDY [ ANGST. ]#CW: Murder #CW: Slight Gore #Cw: Major Character Death #Cw: Spoilers #Cw: Angst #Reader Insert.

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