Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

[Zanaril]

Raistlin, you are a dear, but when it comes to people cosplaying as me, I prefer to kiss Kyrie.

Bwahahahaha!

[CoffeeIncluded]

Lemme guess. Entire Hobgoblin Army/All Demon Roaches at once?



Accelerated what?

[Gamerlord]

Somebody do this. I refuse to:

(Gender-switched Lord Kubota) + Roy's Archon

Love/hate relationship

Also:
(Roy's Archon + The chimera) + YokYok

Love potion

Also:
(Celia + Leeky Windstaff + Soon Kim (incorporeal)) + The oracle

Kidnapped (By somebody inside or outside of the pairing)

[The Dark Fiddler]

So... Has anybody written some relatively NOT-DEPRESSING crack fics lately?

I'm thinking of writing a non-squicky one, does that count?

[Dark Faun]

Bwahahahaha!

I live to please.

(Gender-switched Lord Kubota) + Roy's Archon

I repeat: what's with Kubota and genderbending?

Accelerated what?

Accelerated pregnancy and accelerated growth. I bet these are real spells.

I'll confess that, when Xykon mentioned "target R", I expected his plan to be: Charm all the hobgoblin women into sleeping with Redcloak, also Charmed, then use the accelerated pregnancy and growth spells to have loads of high level clerics.

[Gamerlord]

Don't blame me, Blame the RNG.

[CoffeeIncluded]

Ah. *Snickers* That's what I thought too.

[Gamerlord]

GHAH!

Sarah Greenhilt + Windstriker

Snowed in

Belkar + Jephton/Haerta/Ganneron

French maid costume

That random generator thing is creepy....

[The Succubus]

I live to please.


I repeat: what's with Kubota and genderbending?


Accelerated pregnancy and accelerated growth. I bet these are real spells.

I'll confess that, when Xykon mentioned "target R", I expected his plan to be: Charm all the hobgoblin women into sleeping with Redcloak, also Charmed, then use the accelerated pregnancy and growth spells to have loads of high level clerics.

Be careful Disc, you may start giving me ideas for the unfortunate one-eyed goblin.....

[Dark Faun]

What can I say? A supreme leader has got to have a harem.

[CoffeeIncluded]

Hey, uh, I don't want to sound rude, but I'd really appreciate it if someone were to make a banner from one of my crack pairings.

[Lycan 01]

Why is that silly idea for V x Ciaphas Cain (wh40K) growing into an even more powerful plot bunny with every passing second? The scary thing is, I've already figured out how it would make some sense...

I've also got some other zanny Warhammer 40K crossover ideas - Roy and Durkon as Guardsmen, Redcloak as an Ork Warboss, Xykon as a Necron, Elan as a Commissar... My mind needs to stop putting so much thought into these random ideas.


So besides making OotS GRIMDARK, what else do I need to be working on? I suppose I should either work on Miko's Deathknight story, that V x everyone idea I had, or a random roll fic...

[Dark Faun]

Hey, uh, I don't want to sound rude, but I'd really appreciate it if someone were to make a banner from one of my crack pairings.

I can't claim to have inspiration when I want, especially when it comes to Inkscape (since my skill doesn't go beyong tracing and mix and matching), but I'll try. Maybe Pompey and Sabine making out (or more... ) in front of a terrified (or is it aroused? ) Julia...

Elan as a Commissar...

Your lack of faith in Banjo is disturbing. *blam*

[CoffeeIncluded]

*Laughs* That sounds good.

[CapedLuigiYoshi]

...

Shadow Cly: BODYSWAP!! STEAK YEAH!! INEVITABILITY PAYS OFF!!

(Female) Cly: Oh, come off it. How would it be inevitable anyways?

It's like, a rule of the omniverse or something. You know, like thou shalt not commit adultery, Tom and Jerry don't talk, making Cly feel akward is funny...

Steakit, Shadow!

...and this. Oh, and that Ghost Guy resents things.

...You know no one here will get that, right?

Doesn't matter! I just got inspiration! If you won't write a Crack Pairing, I will!

But... the reason I haven't written one is because I stink at doing romance... and since you're shadow me, wouldn't you too?

Never stopped anyone before!

[The Dark Fiddler]

The oracle + Zz'Dtri

This should be fun...

[Dark Faun]

For the sake of originality, make the Oracle the one manipulated, used and thrown away for once.

[BatRobin]

Or possibly quite horribly! But we revel in infamy.

Thread 1: Crack Pairings
T 2: Brain Bleach Not Included
T 3: 50% More Squick
T 4: You Can't Unread It
T 5: We Revel in Infamy

:D

[Meg]

Thread 1: Crack Pairings
T 2: Brain Bleach Not Included
T 3: 50% More Squick
T 4: You Can't Unread It
T 5: We Revel in Infamy

:D

I think the funniest part about our infamy is that we're actually fairly well mannered. Insane yes, but well-mannered. Sure we'll emotionally scar you, but we'll give you fair warning. And help you sponge the brain juice from your strait jacket.

[CoffeeIncluded]

Yep! We may be psycho, but we're nice psychos!

Anyone want a cookie with a tall glass of brain bleach?

[The Dark Fiddler]

For the sake of originality, make the Oracle the one manipulated, used and thrown away for once.

No using, just loneliness.

And a diary.

[Dark Faun]

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE MYSTERIES OF MY HEART!"

Oh, Zz'dtri, I suddenly love you much, much more.

[CapedLuigiYoshi]

Okay, I was rolling, and I found the perfect pairing...

Lien x Lien

No one else do this. I claim it.

On a related note, how long of a story should I aim for?

[CoffeeIncluded]

However long you want.

[Water-Smurf]

I actually see their child as very mean to its siblings, as in "My mother loved my father more than your parent! And she loves me more than you two too!"...

I can see either the kids getting along really well or becoming deeply embittered towards each other. ("Mother loves me and Daddy more than she loved you and your parent!" "That's what you think! Other Parent only kept you 'cuz she couldn't handle an abortion! And she picked us on purpose!" "Well she left you! She's never left me!" "Well you're a bastard child and your father's a filthy goblin rapist!" "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!")

Spoiler

Show

I return.

The cave is nearly silent as I touch down. I scan the surroundings, every sense honed to detect danger, centuries of use. The wards are undisturbed. Nothing of notice, except that the silence is nearly absolute now. A hearbeat, the soft swish of air reluctantly being drawn into lungs, the walls of the cavern amplifying it ever so slightly. No more subtle splashing of liquid on stone as the blood trickles into crevices. No more whimpering, ragged, sobbing breaths, either.

A shame.

I move further. The purple cast from the sky through the entrance fades to an absence of light. As I expected, the torches have burned out by now. I can see their withered husks wedged in between the stones where I had left them. I spread my haul out on the cavern floor. Luminescent crystals.

Impenetrable darkness is a foreign concept to me, something the tactician in me recognises and understands intellectually, without imagining the sensation. My vision focuses freely on the stones, the stalactites, the ceiling, every detail sharp and visible. The blood has dried by now, the sickly glow of the crystals casts it black. Further away from the light source, it is disappointingly colourless, but there. I do not need light to see.

But I need light to be seen. The crystals should prove sufficient.

I slip further into the cavern and deposit the crystals along the walls. I look on in distaste at the bare floor, but in the last months I have learned to tolerate sleeping on naked stone.

The thought of why I have to tolerate this used to bring cold anger with it. I had welcomed it, absorbed it, allowed it to seep into my bones and my limbs and muscles and into my breath, every time it arose. Anger is powerful, fury is invigorating. After centuries of acting out the same practiced, comfortable routine, it made me feel more alive than ever. It reminded me of my youth, so long ago, when it was all about the sky and the water and every new life snuffed out made me feel like no power in the world could stop me.

For far more justified reasons, I still feel that way. Especially now.

The anger was riveting, but I no longer feel its flicker. It has been replaced by acceptance and the warm glow of satisfaction. I can almost imagine that I still feel that puny weight in my stomach, taste the blood and tears in my mouth, after so many hours. Nonsense, of course.

I briefly reach down and run my tongue against the floor, where the stones gleam black in the dim light. Salty and tangy, familiar but special. I happily allow myself to relive those moments.

I do not feel much anger now. Amusement, certainly. Satisfaction. The elation of victory, like so long ago in my youth, that primal joy of the first hunt. But most of all, anticipation, like moving on to new ground and not knowing what I'll find, only that there's undoubtedly much to be found.

Ironically, I feel free now. No bonds of responsibility. An ageless body, all the power in the world, and as much time as I wish to take. What shall I do? I can do anything. Make it last months, years, decades, even. Come up with different things every day. The possibilities are endless.

In the dim glow of the crystals, I cross to the center of the chamber, not bothering to muffle my heavy footsteps. I receive no reaction.

“I have returned,” I state, my voice resounding through the cavern. “I hope you didn't take my absence too hard.”

More silence, but I did not expect it otherwise.

“I brought you a gift.”

It is soft and yielding in my grasp as I push it forward, soft leather dried and tanned and sewn together into the skillful semblance of a head garment, its design not unlike what I have seen human pirates and frilly nobles wear. Instead of the customary feather, a stream of hair adorns it, like a horse's tail set in a general's helmet. The glow of the crystals gives the silky green locks a surreal tinge, stained with black, dried blood I deliberately decided not to wash out.

I push it forward so that the hair brushes skin, prickling softly under eyelids squeezed shut tightly and glued together with dried tears. There's the instinctive, shuddering inhalation of the odour, the odour of freshly tanned leather and dried blood and the lingering residue of the scent held when still dearly loved and alive - flour and warm milk and wet soil in the garden - and even though I know few creatures share my sense of smell, it is obviously enough, and I delight in the shudder that wrecks through its body as the elf twitches and curls even tighter into itself, the heavy manacles scraping the ground at the brief movement.

I bow down over the figure sprawled on the cavern floor, taking in and savouring the helpless, fetal position, the disheveled mop of hair, dried sweat caking it to ashen skin, the torn robes, baggy and seeming to swallow up the thin arms and legs. Powerless. Defeated. Too broken even for defiance, all the anger and hatred for me having been screamed out along with the pleas and threats and desperate appeals to every virtue and vice it could think of until it had all ceased to matter.

A violent end, so saturated with intense pain and such powerful emotions. One does not depart to rest after such a thing as that. I expect the ghost to start appearing in a matter of days, searching, hating, suffering in sorrow.

I look down into its face. Haggard, drained, dead, belying the warm blood still pulsing steadily underneath. This is that to which I reduce those who dare pose themselves as my enemies. Pathetic, and more beautiful to my eyes than the treasure hoard of the Fivefold Mother herself.

“You are defeated, elf,” I speak, my voice rumbling through the hollow cavern. “You thought yourself powerful, but I have shown you that you have no power. You thought yourself good, but I have made you feel my plight and think of yourself as a monster. You thought yourself a wizard, but your magic has no meaning. You thought yourself a mate and a parent, a member of your party of adventurers, a friend and a companion, intelligent, pragmatic, strong, unyielding, useful, reliable, functional, not alone. You thought yourself many things, but I have made you into nothing. I have destroyed every aspect of you, every shred of identity that mattered. And I will continue to destroy.”

With a mouthed 'telekinesis' I force the straps of metal onto the elf's limp fingers, tightening the coils until blood seeps from underneath, and the elf's voice is hoarse as it groans in pain, no barriers of pride or defiance remaining, and then the body shudders as each of the four broken limbs begins to mend, slowly and torturously.

“We are in a cavern not far from the place you have been trying to reach all these months, Azure City. You will now be as inaccessible to scrying and divination as the person you were searching for has been. The people you thought of as friends before you left them will think you dead. If they attempt to find you, they will fail. No oracle will help them. No one will come to save you – and thus your hope is destroyed as well. Or do you not feel hope, as submerged in your despair and self-loathing as you seem to be? Perhaps it is merely the shock. I am sure you will relive it every time you trance for the rest of your life, elf, and do not make the mistake of hoping it to be brief. The Ring of Regeneration and the Ring of Sustenance I have just given you to wear will keep you alive. You will live for as long as I want you to live. Weeks, months, years, decades, centuries – and if you come to the end of your natural life span, and I still wish you to live, then you will live, elf, because you are mine now, and you have no purpose or identity beyond that which I give you.”

I reach down and my tongue shoots out, running down the elf's face almost tenderly and the elf squirms in pain as the trails of acid burn into a pale cheek. The skin is salty with tears.

I breathe down into the elf's face and growl so quietly my voice only carries for a few feet.
“We have all the time in the world, elf, and there is nothing I would not do to you simply because I can. Resign yourself to it – or not, it gives you no power either way.”

My fangs tear at the robes, scraping gashes into the skin that heal almost immediately. From the gems lodged securely between my scales, the children must be watching.

I cannot believe I'd ever considered leaving the elf alone.

*grins* I tip my hat to you, Kaytara. Amazing.

It gave me shivers, and I can completely see it happening. The children/Inky are all watching this from the stones, right? (Ah, how shameful for poor V.) How are they taking this?

I call it - The Squickies!

Divided into two groups, one set of awards would be for the authors of the stories, with categories like best series, best one off episode, most disturbing, most romantic, best banner/drawing, etc. The other half of the awards would be for the characters themselves, with categories like "Most gratuitous sex scene award", "The Playa award", "The Village Bike award".

Not entirely sure who'd make up the judging panel but I think there could be a lot of fun in it.

This. We need the Squickies! :D :D :D That sounds like tons of fun!

Oh, and I've wrought another chapter upon you. I'm sick again (this thing refuses to be shaken!) so I had plenty of time to write without classes. (I should probably be working on homework, but... I still have 'till Monday.)

Spoiler

Show

“Roy? Roy, honey, wake up.”

Roy blinked awake slowly, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. Sun fell on the foot of his blue bed, the sound of morning songbirds filtering through from outside. The door to his room opened up, two little brown and green bundles tripping over each other to jump up on top of him. “Roy! Roy!”

“It’s time for the strawberry picking, Roy! Mommy promised that she’d make strawberry shortcake if we got enough!”

Roy laughed, plucking his siblings from the bed and hugging them tightly. “Alright, alright, I’m up, you little scamps!”

Julia, only three next to Eric’s eight and Roy’s fifteen, giggled and planted a wet kiss on her eldest brother’s cheek. “Roy! Hurry up an’ get dressed! You’re sleeping all day!”

Eric nodded eagerly. “It’s almost noon!”

“Come on, kids. Let your big brother get ready.” Sara Greenhilt looked through the door, smiling in amusement and clicking her fingers for the two young children to come back to her. “Roy, your father is downstairs getting the baskets ready. We can go as soon as you’re dressed and your teeth are brushed.”

Roy jumped out of the bed, catching his little brother in a small noogie before shoving him out the door with a chuckle. “Come on, you kids. Time to let me to the bathroom.”

“Whatever you say, sleepy-head.”

Eric and Julia grasped hands, giggling, and stumbled down the hall. Roy smiled, ducking out of the way before his mother could grab a brush to touch up his hair, and walked to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He stretched again, looking at the mirror to examine himself for zits. A gentle feeling of bliss settled in his stomach, as though he had been given what he was always missing. He didn’t understand where the feeling came from, but he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Roy took out his toothbrush and squeezed a little toothpaste on it.

---

The only sign of Aarindarius’s feelings was the fact that his knuckles were white around his mug of tea as he listened to the hysterical Inkyrius tell the story of how the one he had watched grow and learn since her birth turned evil and obliterated an entire third of a population in front of their screaming children before disappearing.

His instinct was to deny the possibility. The beautiful, curious, intelligent elf that he had practically raised couldn’t possibly be so depraved. No. It couldn’t happen.

But Inkyrius would never lie.

“Why did you wait so long until you came to me?” he asked softly, his eyes on his tea, his expression difficult to read.

Inkyrius sniffed, scrubbing the tears away roughly. “I… I thought I could make Suvie come back… so we could talk… she wasn’t making sense… I-I thought that I could convince her to come home, or at least explain why she did what she did…” The elf let out another sob. “I filed for divorce. I thought that she would come back for the hearing and I could talk to her then. But she didn’t come back. She signed the papers and she didn’t come back!”

The baker dissolved into a storm of sobbing. Aarindarius looked up slowly, reaching out and touching Inkyrius’s shoulder, gaze distant. “Vaarsuvius loved you.”

“Not anymore, apparently.” Inkyrius sniffed bitterly, trembling, face red. “Sometimes, I wonder if she loved me at all.”

“I can’t be a judge of her feelings.” Aarindarius looked down at the ground. “Vaarsuvius is very single-minded about her tasks. You know that.”

“To the point where she will throw away our family?!” Inkyrius stood up sharply, starting to pace around the study. “What could be so important?! Our children are asking me when their Other Parent is coming back. What should I tell them?!”

“Inkyrius, calm yourself.” Aarindarius knew that it was cold, but he didn’t feel up to trying to comfort someone else when the shock was hardening in his stomach. “There must be an explanation. Do not give up on her.”

“I can’t do this anymore!” Inkyrius sat back down, overcome by another wave of sobs. “The neglect, the time away from home, the distractedness… It hurts, but I can explain it away as Vaarsuvius being Vaarsuvius. But leaving after that, when our children’s legs are broken and they’re crying? After I ask her to stay home? Then just… signing the papers and disappearing from our lives?” More sobs. “Power. That’s Vaarsuvius’s true love. Not you or me or the children but power. Maybe it’s best that she signed. I can’t be second in her life.”

Aarindarius stifled a wince. He had seen that ambition in the little nineteen-year-old child he had first taken as an apprentice. He had nursed it. Encouraged it. Fostered it. Ambition and pride were virtues, he had thought, but he didn’t see how out of control it had become.

It was partially his fault that this elf he loved had spiraled down such a path. He subconsciously started biting his knuckle, a habit he had thought he had broken. He had failed Vaarsuvius for the third time.

“Inkyrius, if what you say is true, it means that Vaarsuvius felt that she had other responsibilities. Her judgment may have been clouded because of the splices and she may have just wanted to keep the power for a longer time, but that is not the only thing that may have happened. We do not know her circumstances. We have not seen her for the past six years. She may have actually felt that she had to do something else before she let the power go for a valid reason.” Aarindarius fingered his mug and bit down harder. He knew that he was making up excuses. They were valid, but he knew that he simply didn’t want to imagine his old apprentice as the monster Inkyrius had described. “Did you use instant summons for the papers?”

“Of course.” Inkyrius sniffed. “I wanted her home as fast as possible.”

“Why did it take so long to get a response?”

“The agency said that she was hard to find. None of their divination spells were sensing her until two days ago.”

“Why would she be hard to find?”

“I…” Inkyrius sniffed again. “I don’t know.”

Aarindarius nodded slowly, frowning at his tea. “Take care of your children, Inkyrius. I think that I am going to try to find out more about what my old apprentice has been doing for these past few years.”

---

the head’s lips were still moving dear elven gods why were they moving the elf couldn’t do anything couldn’t he see the elf was useless useless USELESS USELESS the blood was everywhere it hurt so much to smell the lips were still moving it was impossible to breathe or dear elven gods Vaarsuvius was going insane and deserved it these people shouldn’t be dying VAARSUVIUS IS GOING INSANE INSANE INSANE LOOK AT ALL THE BLOOD INSANE THE BLOOD IS EVERYWHERE INSANE

Sickening sucking sound of metal sinking into flesh. The woman was down. Her eyes were dripping with hate the look hurt so much… “Elf, if you’re still here…”

Blood blooming blooming like a flower insane why couldn’t the elf help insane help HELP magic was supposed to help CONTROL why spend so much time getting more power POWER hold her hand why couldn’t the elf hold her hand HUBRIS so many people should be able to save them should be able to save them WORTHLESS

“I hope you choke on your useless goddamn magic…”

HELP
BLOOD
CONTROL
BLOOD
POWER
BLOOD
HUBRIS
BLOOD
WORTHLESS

BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE EVERYWHERE

the children are screaming Suvie

EVERYWHERE

the voices are murmuring in your ears

EVERYWHERE

you’re dying Suvie

EVERYWHERE

you’re all alone

EVERYWHERE

you can’t protect anyone you love

EVERYWHERE

there’s nothing left

EVERYWHERE

there’s nothing left to fight for

EVERYWHERE

there’s nothing left to live for

EVERYWHERE

there’s nothing left to die for

EVERYWHERE

you’re going insane Suvie

EVERYWHERE

you’re going insane

VAARSUVIUS, WAKE UP!

Vaarsuvius jerked forward, screaming, and the world changed with the pitch. Screaming children. Crucified mate. Dark room with teenage elf reaching out. Dead Azure soldiers. Blood. So much blood.

“Vaarsuvius, snap out of it!”

The elf’s face was slapped hard and everything slammed back into focus.

Vaarsuvius let out a strangled sound, shaking violently, and threw delicate arms around Redcloak’s neck, pressing their bodies close and concentrating solely on keeping the scraps of sanity together.

The world had changed around them again. They were in a forest with giant redwood trees reaching up and completely covering the sky with their leaves, upper canopy so thick that not even beams of light could escape.

And like deranged Christmas ornaments, bodies that were too in shadow to recognize hanged from the upper branches, their legs hanging limp under them, their necks at various odd angles or their faces blown up and blue like balloons, ropes tying them tightly to the trees by their throats.

Someone sat atop the grotesquely decorated branches, long hair obscuring their face, something bundled in blankets cradled in their arms. It was too dark to see who or what it was, yet, despite the fact that it was several stories up, Vaarsuvius could hear its soft, dark voice. It was singing. It was too murmured to distinguish the words, but it sent chills down the elf’s spine nonetheless.

Vaarsuvius swallowed slowly, eyes fixed on the bodies hanging from the branches, retinas burned with the image of the dead and sinuses holding in the scent of blood and sulfur. Sanity had been left in tiny little scraps. Mental defenses quickly started trying to sew up the pieces, trying to mend what was lost, but the elf knew that they wouldn’t be able to fix everything again after this. It was too much. The scraps had barely remained in snippets big enough to reattach.

A wind rushed through, making the bodies swing and hit each other like wind chimes from hell.

“Vaarsuvius, what do you see?”

The elf looked at Redcloak blankly. The goblin looked strained. Tired. Haunted. His eye wasn’t looking at the branches, but at the ground.

They weren’t seeing the same horrors.

“Bodies. Hanging from the branches.” Vaarsuvius looked up at the trees, any semblance of pride and collectedness leaking out and splashing on the grass like the blood of soldiers. “I… when I was a child… on my first trip into town without my master or my parents, I became lost. I went into an open house to ask for directions. I had seen my parents and master do it all the time—it was normal in my village.” Vaarsuvius continued staring at the bodies blankly. “I heard something in the basement and I became curious. When I checked to see what it was, I saw an elf my age with a rope around his neck and tying him to the ceiling. He was still alive. He saw me. His face was so swollen and purple and his arms were flailing and his lips were moving to speak…” The elf stopped for a moment. “I did not know what was happening. I had been sheltered from the world. I had only a rudimentary grasp of what death was, and no idea of the possibility of suicide. I could have saved him had a known just a little more. I did not. He is dead.”

If only you had more knowledge. he wouldn’t be dead you would have saved him If only you had more power. the soldiers would be alive they wouldn’t be massacred If only you had more wisdom. Kyrie and the children wouldn’t be gone

You see how many people you have failed with your lacking?

Redcloak’s grip around the elf tightened substantially, his hand coming up and physically turning the elf’s head away from the branches. “Don’t look at them.”

Vaarsuvius obediently did as Redcloak told, no strength left to argue. “What do you see?”

The goblin hesitated, his grip tightening further. “Massacred goblins. Everywhere.”

BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE

With the renewed shaking from the elf, Redcloak started stroking Vaarsuvius’s hair and back, trying to provide some form of heat. “Who do you recognize, Redcloak?”

Another hesitation. “My little sister. My big brother. My parents. My uncle. My little brother’s wife. His kids.” Another pause. “My little brother…”

Vaarsuvius felt Redcloak’s chest heave. It was silent. It was subtle. It was impossible to misconstrue.

Even though he showed no other signs, he was crying without tears.

Vaarsuvius looked up, eyes getting suspiciously glassy, and kissed Redcloak passionately. Enough with complication. Enough with alignment differences. Enough with all that. Vaarsuvius did not care anymore.

Redcloak kissed back, eager for anyone to cling to to help ease the raw pain inside. The bodies and blood and horror faded away to mist. It was over then, but it would come back. That was okay. If they were together, they could work through whatever was thrown their way.

The pain in the elf’s abdomen was eased as pale hands started to fumble with the string holding the red robe together.

Up above, a creature that hadn’t disappeared with the others continued cradling whatever was bundled in the blankets, humming ever so softly and watching the lovers with black eyes.

I really need to wonder if I'm a sadist/sociopath. I'm practically quivering in anticipation for making these guys suffer. I probably overdid the 'holycrapI'minsane' scene, but meh.

I wonder if I can pull off making in-character Vaarsuvius cry...

[Kaytara]

Yes! A new chapter! Chilling. Creepy. Believable. :) I don't know what's wrong with all of us. :)

Loved the bit with Roy and him seeing what he's always wanted. At first I was confused about the seeming inconsistency of Julia and Eric being alive at the same time, then I realised it was deliberate...

Ah-HA! I knew I was right about the whole foreshadowing of Aarindarius thing. You don't just conspicuously ignore comments like that.

A mysterious observer at the end! Dun dun DUNN! :D

*grins* I tip my hat to you, Kaytara. Amazing.

It gave me shivers, and I can completely see it happening. The children/Inky are all watching this from the stones, right? (Ah, how shameful for poor V.) How are they taking this?

Thanks! (Though judging by the responses I may have overdone it in the "creepiness" department..) The whole ABD-POV thing was done on impulse. Do you think it worked?

The children are in the stones. Inky hasn't been Soul Bound, but due to the way she died, (skinned alive, children just eaten before her eyes, knowing that Suvie is next, knowing that Suvie is somehow to blame for this) Kyrie will probably be coming back as a very distraught and angry ghost.

Shameful? Well, the story doesn't necessarily imply what people have taken it to imply just because it's posted in this thread. I mean, ripping of clothes happens in general when someone reptilian starts biting pieces off the person they want to torment. If you guys interpret it as anything dirty, you have your own smutty minds to blame. Not that the children would take Suvie being tortured MUCH better than Suvie being violated. Poor Suvie.

[Silverraptor]

You guys are so lively in here. It saddens me that I have so much I'm trying to juggle here on my plate. Both work and leisure*. I hope this will ease up soon.

*Leisure being instead obligated to a large number of people who are patiently waiting on me to get to them. All at the same time.

[Kaytara]

You mean you envy our ability to just run away from our responsibilities and write crack fic, instead? :D

Speaking of crack fic... *looks at the date* Anyone feeling up for writing a crossover?

[Cracklord]

I'm trying to write one now, but am somewhat uninspired. Any suggestions?

[Dark Faun]

Belkar being used as a gnoblar by ogres should tickle your hateful bone.