what has been decades for some...

... has been eons for me. ( rp blog for adaru/fear from hhn. open for business i guess???))

[fearslantern]

(( u-uhh... i guess im alive? tho i will admit ive been rping on discord more gfhfgh. if you’d want to rp with me there then uh... hmu on lagomoth#8627 , ive been writing too much weird eldritch horror garbage and i would like to write more with you but i am still incredibly nervous abt tumblr send post))

[scouscr]

@fearslantern​ | starter call

“You sure about this, chief?” His face a scowl, a single glance at the old piece of parchment tells him more than he needs to know.; this was a fool’s “This spell ya want me to use… we may only ‘ave one shot at gettin’ done right.”

[fearslantern]

Even gods and monsters, on occasion, can’t manage something by themselves.

Being the god of fear is a more dangerous occupation than one might expect. As with all positions of power, the throne appears omnipotent from afar, but there is no position more precarious to be in than the very top. Worse: if someone in that position somehow falters, either through a foolish decision or complete inaction, then the whole flimsy card-castle comes tumbling down. 

This, it seemed, was Adaru’s position. Many assumed- understandably, albeit wrongly- that a creature such as him would sooner seek to end the world than preserve it. After all, what better way to spark a mass pandemonium than the threat of the upcoming apocalypse? What else could spark such terror, such complete chaos and carnage, than the possible end of humanity? Very little, of course- but Adaru was never that rash. He might’ve been, once- while he was still young, foolish, full of megalomania and strange hungers- but time had worn him down and steeled his nerves.

Now, all that mattered was maintaining things. Villainy and terror was a garden to him, and with all gardens, it must be maintained. Well looked after. The more dangerous weeds must be rooted out, before their thorns choke and kill everything else, and nothing remains. He couldn’t have been the only one who felt it- heard it in the quiver of stagnant water, in the way the shadows seemed too tense, in those strange and crawling dreams of things between realities. Something dreadful was on the horizon- and if his suspicions were correct, then he couldn’t do this alone.

And this led to this- a solemnly clothed, dark-skinned, dark haired man, with smoked glasses and a serious, unreadable expression, pushing an old piece of parchment towards a very particular Magus. Constantine didn’t need to know who he is. Perhaps he didn’t need to know the full extent of this- not yet, at least. Assuming he didn’t already.

“I’m quite aware,” he says, voice as cold and blunt as he can muster. “I know the risks. But I have it on good authority that you’re the sort of person who can manage to do the impossible nine-times-out-of-ten. If anyone can do it, I suppose it’d be you.”

Adaru never had the best luck. Perhaps that had to do with the company he kept. But if anyone was mad enough to perform a spell to try to keep the Old Ones at bay, then it’d have to be John Constantine, wouldn’t it?

[moonlitjinx]

“Boo, you whores.”

[jack-the-clown]

//actually cackling at this

[jack-the-clown]

//IT GOT BETTER

[fearslantern]

((  😘 yr welcome ))

[fearslantern]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“ The knowledge god stepped forward and stared silently into the new god’s empty pits, which still bled something wine-dark and speckled with embers and gold. He could not see the older god’s face. He didn’t need to. After all, he could already taste his fear- it burnt at the back of his throat, tasted like ash and fire and dust. “

just a quick ooc post saying that i finally posted my fic for the fearless hhn zine up on ao3! if you can, please check out the zine, its real good and all proceeds go to charity babey. this fic is about how adaru lost his first heralds and got stuck in the lantern in the first place, so it’s real pain hours

but yeah have fun

[hereshydie]

Wednesday — September 19th, 1855

MAKE A CURE

I am normally one to keep my dearest research to myself, but, I suppose for educational purposes in further future projects, and to quit my assistant Igor’s consistent blabbering, I could share my most recent discoveries to world. While in London, this isn’t always a specified case for many of our residents to read and certainly enjoy, it could very well prove to be an interesting aid for growing practitioners and medical professionals, and if that’d been the solution prior, I’d gladly send them over to a powerful executive unlike myself. I do hope that is what it would come to however, since handing these old papers and documents out to the entire town, and then receiving nothing in return, could be rather pointless. This is no diary like those little darlings have, bless their beautiful hearts, but more of a research journal that will expectedly be discovered years after this age and used for additional academic reasons, still yet unknown to me. Please; my beloved friends, my family, read with absolute caution and know, that whoever does manage to dig each note out decades later, that I am dead and gone, no longer existent within the horrific society we know and understand today.

The day before, me and my assistant, Igor, had gone off together towards Hyde Park to conduct some brisk experiments and gather pages of information from the nearest banks and the empty green lands, these unburdened areas equally being our favorites to study in besides our own laboratories. It went quite fast, and to be honest, you may not believe how beautiful the hills have gotten and how rich the air tastes nowadays, which was not nearly the case a half a century ago. Flowers: colorful tulips, bright daffodils, pale freesias, they were sprouting in the tall emerald grass, the bees and scampering squirrels having their fair share of honeydew and pollen, before I noticed the vibrant moss climbing its way up the trunks of healthy fully fledged trees.

The sight was magnificent and I would be damned perchance the treasures disappeared for a permanent period. I’ve only wished that I had the capability to capture the moment forever, that my composition skills were beyond perfect, and then I could spare the view, holding it to my heart. Although no one is that qualified, I wonder hereafter, and what will follow for the beauties that our curious eyes witness, but not us in its entirety, as a whole.

Never mind that. It was a processing orange morning, full of this Earth’s precious maturing life and Mother Nature’s properties, and there is no second that passes that can alter my opinion on the majestic creatures it bears. We, the people, the disaster-causers, us brutal violent killers, for sure, deserve less than what it offers.

Igor left an estimated hour later under his brown and black disguise, the shadow of the messily stitched hood coating his face in indistinguishable darkness, and I remained for a few solid minutes, admiring and taking in what I possibly could. I acknowledged I’d have to return to the building sooner once he departed to the silent bronze city; in spite of how serene the quickest glimpses were and the sweet attitudes some townsmen put on, there were the pairs of buffoons that targeted my small scientific companion on the daily. It was not a pleasant scene, ever, and it’ll be me who’d turn out to have the purple and blue bruises.

I chose to circle around the heavenly glade a final time, steering clear of attracting deer’s attention and making sure not to forgetfully step on the tiniest toads and lizards, following the faint sound of the flowing crystal rivers and preparing to turn back to humanity. Unfortunately, I was stuck, stuck by an intriguing sense, my interest peaking of what lurked in the wake of adolescent bushes and trees, and that was when I vaguely saw it.

It was caught in the corner of my vision, it could’ve been the silhouette of a dark beast resting by the edge of the creek, an abandoned object left to sink under the smooth waters, but simultaneously, my instincts were set and I saw the slimy grotesque critters squiggling over and across almost dying the portion of the water a deep shade, their slick bodies gleaming in the sunlight, desperate to latch onto a host and feed. They were hungry, starving for the crimson substance they called food, and the brief millisecond I stared, eying the black worms, smelling the disgusting foul scent they suddenly gave off, the next I was gone, and I don’t remember enough. Whether I was bolting and tearing apart already ruined bushels, spiderwebs, and vines, or frozen with utter fear and ultimately gaining the needed strength and dignity to tread backwards, the acidic feel of my own breakfast beginning to travel up my throat, I was yearning to instantaneously disappear. To vacate that suffocating forest.

I can’t imagine why this was, but that thick smell, that stinging odor, it reminded me of a burning bubbling disease. A sickness that was terminated, and desirably returning for the delicious taste of vengeance. I could comprehend that.

I inaudibly arrived to my home, locked the doors tight, shut the dusty wooden windows, poured a cup of red wine, perhaps a double, either a triple, and determined that I’d write this the several ensuing hours as the origination of this memoir. Nonetheless, I persist to be evidently hesitant, Igor recognizes this and does not mutter a thing, and I cannot manage to muster the questionable words too, it seems. I can’t mumble a single letter, I won’t allow it, and I’m afraid to, I’m terrified that the bits of scribbled strangled life that I saw will be there for me, that they remembered my face and prepared to consume my soul the day I lay my head to the flat pillow and sleep. I can’t let that occur.

I can’t let this plague infest me.

Me and Igor will be working the full night, and the subsequent nights ahead of us, so I recalled scratching a petite reminder to reconsider a hopeful cure on these bundle of papers dare I forget and free the that monstrous wave of horrors. I don’t want to bother searching now.

~ Adgheer Bizzar

[petalquartzz-deactivated2020012]

The start of the Altered States AU is here! It will be done in a series of diary-like documents, where our friendly Bizzar takes a set of notes and does his best not to lose control as long as nothing leeches that sanity from him

[hereshydie]

Evil.

Evil can evolve in many forms, many forms indeed, and sometimes it’s unclear how this possessive dark nature had arose and attacked; there are the brief moments that still remain unknown to the victim and they are left to suffer the consequences of nothing they’d ever done, and then there are those that deserve the cruel punishments for setting such a powerful being free into the nasty world we live in today. It’s quite amusing actually, to have a vicious monster someone had made for a selection of awful reasons, whether that be vengeance or anger, and then witness that thing turn and betray its creator for the same cause. That’s a fair example of an oxymoron, if I had to be honest, an unnerving one at most, and it never fails at sending a few shivers down the spines of the clueless.

That’s what I had done. Well, what I thought I did, and I continue to endure the pain that I first delivered and nevertheless walk down the empty streets of London in absolute agony. My name is Adgheer Bizzar, Doctor Bizzar, and I am the lead scientist of this gorgeous old city, and proceed to stay that as long as I vaguely live. Beforehand, there was a searing creature lurking inside of me, waiting and begging to be set free to experience beautiful life at first hand, and now it has its freedom, in which he only spends it mocking and treating me like I was nothing. I’m still nothing to him, and I’m almost glad that’s the case now. He’ll get unamused and weary about it, his entertainment will be terminated, and I’ll be left in a blissful peace, happy and furthermore alone.

My loyal assistant, the ‘loyal’ bit I’m a tad questionable about nowadays, Igor, was the man who granted me the duo bottles of potions that began this journey downhill, a deep green and a bright red. Of course, being him, he was forgetful, and I practically drank the worst tasting and smelling substance I’d ever dropped on my tongue. I told myself that this is what I wanted, what I needed to fix my condition and to carry on a normal carefree life, yet that’s what made it worsen, and I was kept there inside of my own laboratory to tolerate a new unpleasant sensation building and bubbling within me.

Withal, from what I’ve adjusted to learn, I was an additional monster facing the first, and I was guilty of conducting the same amount of torment and maltreatment though in a totally opposite manner. I was insensible. I was unaware to the furious thumps of my heart and the unusual heat hardly cooling, I was blind to the demon’s black tears, and I was deaf to his blood curdling cries and screams for liberation. I barely heard him, I chose to block the unimportance out from my ears and focus on my work, and in response, he exaggerated my meaning, he tore me apart piece by piece and targeted me for the worst sections of his acquisitive life.

I was to blame for his sorrow, his jealousy, his fury, I was to blame for everything.

And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about the awful terrors and devastation that beast put me through; the bitter taste of that god forsaken liquid, the aftermath of that terrible nightmare, the stench of his ugly breath breezing down my neck. Yes, there is a Doctor Bizzar, but there’s still that one shattered piece of glass that resides in the attic, it’s once beautiful glistening surface now glazed over by dust and ignorance due to the same owner’s cloudy mind— that’s Hyde.

~ Adgheer Bizzar

[trenchkoat]

FEARLESS is a community fanart zine made by HHN fans, for HHN fans. It features 60 individual pages over a 34-page spread of fanart centered around various years of the event, as well as original horror-themed short stories.

WARNING: Some pieces may contain disturbing imagery.

This is a free product. When asking to “name a fair price” on Gumroad put $0, and select the option to contribute a donation or not. Any and all donations will be donated to Scares That Care!, a 501©(3) charitable organization that dedicates itself to fight terminal illnesses and provide financial help to families in need.

As a 100% volunteer organization, we are focused to fight the REAL MONSTERS of childhood illness, burns and breast cancer by helping families who are experiencing these extraordinary hardships cope with the financial burden by raising and providing $10,000 per recipient family.

DISCLAIMER: We are not associated with HHN in any way and do not own any likenesses to trademarked characters within. This zine was created and distributed under fair use and for the sake of community and togetherness. No amount of money gained from this project will be kept for personal wealth and will only be donated to the chosen charity.

Do not redistribute this product for profit.

[fearslantern]

(( :3c ))

[fearslantern]

" If you have ANY purpose here, it better be useful... for YOUR sake. Wonderland has grown quite weary of intrusions; perhaps you can tell... "

It wasn’t as though Adaru wasn’t familiar with strange, magical places. Part of being a god of fear meant finding oneself in places no mortal had ever touched- places beyond the imaginations of most living beings. Truth is often stranger than fiction- even if such places are said to be nothing more than myths and legends, more often than not they happened to be very much real- even if it wasn’t in the same form as it was described.

Wonderland, however, was different. By all accounts- by all logic- Wonderland wasn’t real at all. And yet, here he was.

People disappearing, of course, is not exactly uncommon- especially in his... field of expertise, so to speak. But usually, this was just the result of some rampant murderers or monsters- or, occasionally, the unintended side-effects of summoning a portal to hell. But for a place to willingly seem to draw people in- for a realm itself to trap people within it, and have them disappear without a trace? Well. That was unusual. What else could Adaru do but pursue it? It certainly seemed to intrude upon the mortal realm, after all. He couldn’t have that. 

But really- it was more curiosity than anything. It all seemed so absurd to him- so story-book like that he couldn’t help but investigate. All that led him to the present; the rose-garden, flowers choked by thorns, the floor carpeted by something red and gently pulsing, and the presence of a very small and very angry queen, peering up at him with bright, piercing eyes.

“Fret not,” he murmured, almost softly- journeying through Wonderland had taken more out of him than he would’ve hoped- “I don’t intend on staying here. I’m just- visiting.” 

Just visiting. 

Nobody just visited Wonderland. He might’ve convinced himself that he was an exception to the rule. How long would that last?

[spunsugarmusings]

Give my muse a title

Ex; “breaker of chains”, “beloved sister of the king”, or anything you can imagine!

[spadeschmidt]

"I heard you plan on murdering me. To tell you the truth, Spades, it's about time someone actually tried. Hopefully, you'll actually succeed. I haven't, so far. Maybe someone else can."

“Oh trust me when I say I will succeed. Fact is, Adaru, you are growing weak. I see it in your face.” Spade replied.

[fearslantern]

There’s a sort of grim chuckle at that. If there’s one thing he admires about Spades- one thing he can see himself in- it’s that ambition. Even if it’s horribly misguided. Even if what he seeks, in the end, is something that Adaru wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. Power always seems so tempting, until you have it. It’s the same for kings as it is for gods.

“’Weak’ might not be the right word for it, Spade. I have not lost any of my power over the millennia that I have been alive. If anything, mankind is more paranoid now than it ever has been. No. I am not growing weaker. Something else has consumed me.”

He stooped down, looking Spade in the face- or, well, maybe ‘looking’ isn’t the right word. More blindly staring at him. It’s menacing all the same- but is that a hint of mourning in the black, empty pits that used to hold eyes? Maybe so. Not that Spades would care.

“I am tired, Spade. So very, very tired. The aeons have worn me down. Do you really think, child, that I haven’t tried to end myself before? These scars are my own doing. And yet, I am here, still.” 

Finally, he rises up to his full height. The exhaustion in his voice is clear enough. Is he really telling the truth?

“If you have a way to kill me- if you sincerely think you’ve figured it all out- then I will not stop you. If anything, I would be more than happy to assist you. But if you’re doing this out of some power-hungry, desperate impulse- if you seek to take my power, my burden, as your own- then remember what it did to me, and be sure that it’s something you really want.”

[fearslantern]

“Have you any idea how worried I am? Please tell me what’s up with you or I can’t help! You look exhausted!” ((Mary and Adair interacting in the Jekyll and Hyde AU mayhaps??))

It, perhaps, wasn’t wise to keep his current affliction a secret. Then again, intelligence and wisdom don’t always go together, do they?

By this point, it had been months since it started; the whole business with his little experiment.  He hadn’t told anyone about it, of course- not at the time he conducted it, and certainly not when the results started becoming more and more of a problem. Being labelled a madman would be very inconvenient. So would be going to prison. But the longer he let this continue, the more blood he had on his hands. How many people were dead, by this point? How many more would die? He didn’t know. One death was enough for him to be hanged, anyway. 

The noose wasn’t what scared him. No- the experiment, trying to become immortal through some cocktail of chemicals- had worked. For all intents and purposes, Adair couldn’t die. The problem was the side effect; or, as he preferred to call himself, Fear.

At first, he was more… benign. Something Adair could control, more or less. But it grew worse every night; control was beginning to slip. The transformations became more frequent. And then, in his nightmares, he was given an ultimatum: give over full control, or anyone he knew and cared about would be murdered. 

How was he meant to refuse?

Simple; he wasn’t. That was what had led to his current state; exhausted, forcing himself to stay awake, slowly constructing his own doom and withdrawing himself from everyone he knew. He hadn’t expected Mary to visit him, and he didn’t have the heart to send her away. Instead, he let her in- but not before hiding all the evidence of his situation he could. 

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t hide the terrified exhaustion in his eyes. 

“I’m… I’m fine, Mary. There’s nothing you need to do. There’s nothing you can do, really. I’m just feeling sick.” Sick was one way to put it. God help him; he never was very good at lying.

[shxttered-mirrxrs]

Dr. Agana crossed her arms, looking quizzically at her colleague. She was not easily fooled by the facades of others, especially when there was little hiding the truth. Admittedly, though, she didn’t know just how deep this story ran, and how deeply in danger Adair was, and how deeply in danger she was for being his friend. Felicity Utterson was already facing the invisible threat Adair’s malicious other half had posed, and poor Mary had no idea that she herself was on the list as well. 

“You can’t fool me, Adair Domhull,” she chastised him, “You’re on another one of your hustles again, aren’t you? Not sleeping, not eating, not doing anything except work. You’ve done it before, and I can’t say I’m surprised that you’re doing it again.” 

Granted, Mary wasn’t exactly wrong; she had seen Adair practically work himself to death before, and he really was working harder than he had in a long time to make the final dose of potion that would sacrifice his body completely over to the beast that lay dormant inside it, lest he lose her and the rest of his closest friends. But that didn’t change how little she truly knew about the situation at hand. However, Mary wanted nothing more than to make sure her colleagues were okay, especially since she and Adair had grown particularly close when they were assigned to work together observing new therapies for patients suffering hallucinations. 

“Think you’d be up for venturing out for a little while? There’s a tavern not too far away from here that has a pretty good lamb stew, if anything food in your belly will help you recover a bit.” A change of scenery, Mary figured, could help him get out of this tizzy that he was in. “If you can’t manage it, I can always go out and pick some up for you. No trouble.”

[fearslantern]

Oh, if only she knew the true depths of the hole he was digging for himself. If only he could bring himself to tell her. Not like he ever would. Adair was a man who kept too many secrets for his own good. Fear might’ve been the one killing people, but Adair was the one that buried the bodies. By the time Adair would be gone, there’d be very little left to prove he was ever there at all. That was a sort of death, he supposed. He’d have to make it look like one. A suicide note, maybe. Or an arson.

They’d never find the body, of course. But maybe they’d remember the ghost. If he was lucky, they wouldn’t.

“... You could say that,” he replied. It was a good thing Adair hadn’t said anything about his experiments into immortality. Mary and Felicity knew, of course, that he had those strange curiosities; but he hadn’t yet let them know how deep it really ran. Now he’d never get to tell them. It was... better this way, probably. The fact that Mary cared enough to seek him out after all this made him feel worse. He couldn’t bare the thought of his own funeral. Thank God he wouldn’t be around to witness it, at least. Fuck, he’d miss them after this. But whenever he thought about it too much, his left eye ached- his heart shuddered- his chest felt like everything was falling out of it again. For a moment, he could even see shadows flickering on the wall- catch the faint smell of blood. London’s streets didn’t feel as familiar as they did before; now it was all fog and lamplight and dark shadows. The cold sank deeper into him. Oh, God. How long did he have left?

Not long. For a moment, he thought to tell her everything. All the murders- all the experiments- all the terrible promises. But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. Awkwardly, he turned his face away, crossing his arms, trying to hide the way the tears started to make his eyes shimmer. “I... don’t have an appetite at the moment. But thank you.” Even despite the ache in his heart, his voice is steady and painfully soft. Hopefully, it wasn’t too obvious that he was hiding something. Not that it mattered, by this point.

[fearslantern]

“Have you any idea how worried I am? Please tell me what’s up with you or I can’t help! You look exhausted!” ((Mary and Adair interacting in the Jekyll and Hyde AU mayhaps??))

It, perhaps, wasn’t wise to keep his current affliction a secret. Then again, intelligence and wisdom don’t always go together, do they?

By this point, it had been months since it started; the whole business with his little experiment.  He hadn’t told anyone about it, of course- not at the time he conducted it, and certainly not when the results started becoming more and more of a problem. Being labelled a madman would be very inconvenient. So would be going to prison. But the longer he let this continue, the more blood he had on his hands. How many people were dead, by this point? How many more would die? He didn’t know. One death was enough for him to be hanged, anyway. 

The noose wasn’t what scared him. No- the experiment, trying to become immortal through some cocktail of chemicals- had worked. For all intents and purposes, Adair couldn’t die. The problem was the side effect; or, as he preferred to call himself, Fear.

At first, he was more... benign. Something Adair could control, more or less. But it grew worse every night; control was beginning to slip. The transformations became more frequent. And then, in his nightmares, he was given an ultimatum: give over full control, or anyone he knew and cared about would be murdered. 

How was he meant to refuse?

Simple; he wasn’t. That was what had led to his current state; exhausted, forcing himself to stay awake, slowly constructing his own doom and withdrawing himself from everyone he knew. He hadn’t expected Mary to visit him, and he didn’t have the heart to send her away. Instead, he let her in- but not before hiding all the evidence of his situation he could. 

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t hide the terrified exhaustion in his eyes. 

“I’m... I’m fine, Mary. There’s nothing you need to do. There’s nothing you can do, really. I’m just feeling sick.” Sick was one way to put it. God help him; he never was very good at lying.

[fearslantern]

((looks at all the spider content on my dash

sweats

so, uh. spiderverse aus huh...))

[late-night-double-feature-blog]

Good Evening, Minions!

Did you all miss me? Oh, don’t be coy. Of course you did.

Well, there is no need to worry- H.R. Bloodengutz, your favourite master of scaremonies is back, and better than ever! Prison was giving me an awful case of the jailhouse blues, so I decided to let myself leave early with good behaviour.

You’ll have to excuse the mess, this certainly isn’t as cozy as my old crypt- not yet, anyway. But rest assured, I will be bringing you the very best in blood and guts you’ve come to expect from this channel. And with the power of the internet, finally all of you adoring fans can have a one-on-one chat with the lord of darkness himself! Don’t worry, the line starts over there.

I’m ever so excited to meet you all- i’d say i’m practically dying with anticipation.

(( Hey! I decided to finally start an RP blog for my favourite HHN character. Come bother an old man, if you feel like it! Check out my about and rules before you do. Thanks! ))

[angstmemes]

nightmare starters part 2

for part 1 click here!

“Will you please tell me what they’re about?! How do you expect me to help if you don’t tell me?!” “You should go and see someone about those nightmares. They’re only getting worse, aren’t they?” “Can we sleep with the lights on?” “I haven’t slept peacefully in weeks.” “I can’t tell you my nightmare this time… It’s too bad, I don’t want to have to say it out loud.” “Can I sleep in your room? I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep in my own bed.” “I’m sorry for waking you… I had a really bad nightmare.” “I can’t stop thinking about that weird dream I had weeks ago. It’s like it’s haunting me.” “You look exhausted. Bad night?” “Calm down, calm down. It was just a dream. It’s over now.” “You’re overreacting. Everyone has bad dreams sometimes. No need to get all weird about it.” “Are you still thinking about that nightmare? I’m sure it didn’t mean anything, okay? We’re not in a horror movie.” “You should go to the doctor. These nightmares are making you miss sleep and you’re always exhausted. Get help.” “How about you come and sleep in my bed? I’ll watch over you while you fall asleep, I promise.” “I think I’d feel less tired if I didn’t sleep at all anymore. These nightmares are killing me.” “I thought you didn’t get them anymore.” “I guess it was a bad idea to watch a horror movie before bed…” “When will you finally tell me what they’re about?” “Wow, you look exhausted. Did you sleep at all last night?” “Oh my god, that was horrible… that was so horrible…” “How about you sleep in my bed for the coming days? It can be like a sleepover. I’m sure you’ll feel good enough and the nightmares will stay away!” “I can’t breathe! It was real, it was!” “Have you tried writing them down? They might go away if you do…” “Have you any idea how worried I am? Please tell me what’s up with you or I can’t help! You look exhausted!” “Please leave the light on.” “Have you any idea what’s causing these nightmares?” “I don’t think you understand how exhausting it is to not have had a good night’s rest in weeks.”

[fearslantern]

“You look familiar” Gideon Vex aka The Puppet Master

Nowadays, he was starting to dread hearing that.

Seeking immortality is always a risky business. Most of the time, it never works. Often, it ends in at least one terrible demise. But there were occasions- or rumours of such things, anyway- of successes. And, rather unfortunately, Adair had himself become someone who sought immortality and found it.

That wasn't to say he was entirely unhappy about the fact that he was free from death's clutches. Quite the opposite, in fact- he was proud of what he had managed to do. The problem was the side effects. Namely, the fact that he now shared a body with a murderous terror of a man.

In some way, allowing that darker half to take hold of him was freeing. Freedom from morality- from mortality- was indescribable. Euphoric. Intoxicating. But the transformations were unbearable- and the longer this went on, the more frequent they become. His dreams, too, had been taken by it- Fear, his other half called himself- and God, he had threatened to take so, so much more.

It didn't help that Fear didn't clean up after himself after killing someone. And for a stranger to approach him, suddenly, stirred some sort of terror in his heart. Had he been spotted, some terrible morning, dragging a corpse into a graveyard? Did he and Fear look alike enough for someone to realise his plight?

"I should hope not," he murmured, immediately cursing himself for doing so. God, why did he say that? What did he even mean by that? Oh, Christ. Maybe it would be better if he could die, right now, immediately.

[fearslantern]

“You look familiar"

((hi anon!

sorry if this is a bit of a silly thing but it's hard to write a reply when im not sure what character is asking the question, if you wanna ask off anon or shoot me a message feel free!))