#tw; strangling

[symphonicsoul]

It's only a dream || Accepting

( @aquaticsoul ) ->

 ‘ night terrors ‘

because he doesn't want pilvi to have to deal with things alone anymore

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ It was only a dream. It had to be because Opettaja is right here and he is alive and the white prince is setting in a bed that is not his own but it smells like all his loved ones. They are all here. Somewhere in this building, they're here and he can hear them and ...and ... and...

He doesn't know what else.

The feeling of one of His Excellency's blood red tendrils is slipping around his throat as he tries to think about it. He doesn't know if that's real either. He's dreamt of his teachers, his binds, so many times but he's never really woke to them when he sets up screaming.

That probably was hell on Opettaja's ears and he should probably apologize for that but the building doesn't smell like Gaudium even if it looks like it. Oscha could be playing another trick on him. He doesn't remember Herba coming to collect him once more. He doesn't remember breathing in anything weird or drinking anything strange but then again that was the point and even when he did, he doesn't remember.

He doesn't remember anything ... He doesn't remember... How did he end up in a room with Opettaja in the first place? All he knows is - he is in the middle of a very well built nest that is filled to the very brim of the scents of everyone he loves and that is something he can say he likes. He very much likes and Opettaja is right next to him and he can hear and smell him so clearly too.

His Excellency would never allow this. So why is he here? He saw Herba kill the man but then he - no - didn't he? The tendril is tightening around his throat as he takes the time to think. How dare he take the time to think?! He knows better. He knows and his hands are up and tugging at the blanket that is loosely wrapped down over his shoulders as the panic sets in.

Why is he fighting back? He knows better than to fight back but Opettaja is here and he doesn't want him to have to see this. He doesn't want Opettaja to have to watch him die and see the truth in his immortality.

When did he tell Opettaja he was immortal?

He must have. He doesn't remember doing it but he must have.

"I'm sorry." He sobs as hands firm on the blankets close to his throat. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency."

He doesn't even remember what he did to make the little beast so angry this time, but it was obviously something and if he didn't act soon then he was going to die and Opettaja was going to be forced to watch. Worse, Opettaja was going to be forced to deal with his corpse when he doesn't fade.

He is the only Misterican in all of history that has ever left a corpse and he can't say he cares for it. He can't say he cares for that fact at all.

"Please spare me, Your Excellency. Please."

He hates the fact his sobbing isn't fake. He hates the fact that every tear is as real as the last he does the only thing he knows how to do in this situation and that's to cry and beg forgiveness.

"Please Your Excellency." He tries again as he struggles a bit to get every crawling tendril on him off of himself but it all feels as hopeless as it ever does.

"Please, Your Excellency. Please don't make him watch this."

[alchemic-elric]

Scare Me if you can || Accepting 

Anonymous said 

The Gate creaks open once again - a hungering maw, eager to claim that which it is owed. Run, animal of prey. Run on legs that give out and struggle with broken bones. The Exchange is false - a flawed concept invented by man, based on naught but the laws of energy conservation. It does not apply to life itself - you will not be spared of your suffering no matter how much you try to atone. No fairness in this world, no redemption, only the strong that grind down the weak. God is vengeful, o Child of the Moon. He shall not be made fun of. In the end, the Moon only steals the light. Reflects the divinity it can never achieve. Blasphemous, no? How science imitates the Lord. Attempts His perfection with clumsy hands and crafts such abominable things.

You will make a fine example, sinner. In the end, that is all that you are. And all you ever will be

He knows that sound. It’s burned into every corner of his mind. He knows the sound of those tall stone doors creaking open and the being that lurks within it. He knows. He knows because it haunts him. He doesn’t need to see the body from which the voice exudes. He doesn’t need to know where the voice is coming from to know that every word it speaks into life is the cold hard truth. 

That is what God was. The sum of everything. The sum of all that exists. The world; the one; the all; the few; the plenty - It was all that ever was and would ever be - it was Truth and he mocked it. He stole from which he had no right to touch. He sat foot on ground he had no place being. He can’t deny these claims. He can’t deny what he is and what he’s done.  

The Gate is creaking, open wider and wider stone doors ready to claim him. Stone doors ready to release those black tendrils that wrap his body and strangle his neck. He hates it.  He hates it but it happens over and over - every night - every chance it gets when he spaces out during the day or during the night - whenever his mind leaves the mortal plane and travels back to that place. He can feel them. He can feel them coming out to claim him. 

They’ll take him for good this time. He’ll never escape - a blasphemous sinner there’s no better way to describe him. Child of the Moon, animal of prey. They see right though him. They see past his masks and defensive walls. They see him for the horrible wretched creature he is. They see him for the scared animal that has only ever tired to make up for his one mistake of taking too much in his hubris.  

Equivalent Exchange has never been real. Just a made up concept that humans created to make themselves feel better. Just a concept created in an attempt to reign in the sins that live buried deep within every man.  They were unescapable, some sins just rose to the surface more than others and in Edward’s case some times those sins consumed.  

 He can feel them. He can feel the vile black hands that wrap around him and twist him up in their grip. He can feel those long black tendrils coil around him and pull him tight as if caging up a rabbit just before the final strike. He hates them. He’s always hated them, even when they always somehow manage to tie up against his throat and pull him tight until he can’t breathe. 

He’s going to die here. He’s going to die. He’s been running his entire life from any predator that might snatch him up. He’s been running his entire life from any beast that might catch him but he should have been running from himself. He should have been running from the path of disaster he was leaving in his wake. He should have been bowing his head to the mighty being of Truth that will be his undoing. There’s nothing he can do to save himself now. He’s been taking his entire life. 

He’s always been selfishly taking in the name of his own survival and now his actions have come to call. He’s a sinner. He’s always said this. He’s a sinner through and through and there’s no way to escape this simple fact of life. It matters not, how many good actions he performs or how much he attempts to better the lives of others - they’re all selfish actions towards his own salvation. They’re all meant to save him from the damnation that awaits him...for in his arrogance he toyed with forces better left to the divine when he thought he could craft what was only meant for the holy to create. 

God is vengeful, o Child of the Moon.

                                                             He shall not be made fun of.

Harsh panting breaths escape him as he jerks upright in bed, trying his best not to release a scream that would shake and echo through the house. His own form is trembling as mismatched arms come to wrap around himself and knees pull to his chest. His head falls, forehead pressing to his knees as he trembles. The boy pulls in himself into a ball - make yourself as small as possible Edward.  You mustn’t let them see.  

              Equivalent Exchange is a false 

                                                            and you’ve taken too much.  

[astryelle]

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

Day 19: Asphyxiation

[alchemic-elric]

So you wanna know, huh? || Accepting

@eveningmuses​ asked:

“I want to know who hurt you.” From Pride huh

What an infuriating sentence! The fucking nerve.  The absolute gall of that little bastard to ASK such a fucking thing! HOW DARE HE?!  He has the gall to just spit that at him? So calmly. So confident. 

“Fuck you.” are the only words that leave his mouth for the moment, as the Elric boy lets his back fall against his invisible prison, arms crossed and he allows himself to sink down to the ground.  There’s fire in those eyes. Malice as he looks his new body mate over. New? is that what he’d call this? He doesn’t really have a sense of time anymore and he doesn’t know how long it’s been. 

“You aw’eady took m’fuckin’ body Selim. What MORE d’ya want from m’?!” 

He shouldn’t be mouthing off like this. He knows better but he for once feels safe within the walls of his own personal prison. He shouldn’t though. He knows he shouldn’t and his stomach sinks while he thinks about it, wondering if that serpent is going to decide to let his mouth slide or punish the rabbit that challenges him. Will he send out those damnable shadows again and coil him up squeezing him until his prey can no longer breathe and falls limp in his grip? 

He remembers it once, he’d rather not experience it again. If he needs to drop his head and apologize to the vile beast before him to avoid it’s wrath so be it. Even if he hates being trapped here, he’d much prefer not to be twisted up in those shadows again. That viper can sate his hunger somewhere else. 

It’s infuriating that he would ask about hurt when Selim himself was the one who beat him until the air left him lungs and he was stuck dizzy on the floor. Selim himself was the one who left him so dazed and wounded that he could no longer defend himself and thus the little bastard invaded and claimed his form.  Selim himself, is the one who coiled those shadows around him and constricted them against his throat until his soul could no longer breathe. Selim wants to know who hurt him when the sentence should really be who else.  

That python has already strangled him once, he wasn’t going to let that little monster swallow him whole while he was at it....so the rabbit would drop his head. Thump his feet yes, but drop his head. Remain still.  He had to remain still. If he just existed inside this damnable box he’d be okay, right? He hated it. He hated existing in this fucking imageless cube but at least it kept Selim from doling out anything that could be seen as punishment for mouthing off and the last thing he wanted was those shadows slithering forth sent to drag him out from his current burrow. 

He’d just have to make a home from this damnable box of his.  If this were to be his prison, he would make it his home to spite him. Even with walls all around him that he could not see at the very least they served as a barrier between him and the viper.  He’d snap him up in one blow if he gives him the chance.

His arms cross over his chest, his posture corrodes. Shoulders slump as his eyes downcast to his lap. Blond falls to cover golden eyes and his tone changes as his attempted insubordination leaves him.  His voice comes out as small as his frame. 

“Who hurt m’? Selim, you aw’eady know the answer ta that.”

[adxnnys-blog]

Sweet Bear Mask||Nightmare 2/?

Donny hadn't allowed himself to sleep since that day in class. His eyes were bloodshot and he was twitchy with exhaustion, easily set off. He had been getting sent out of class more and more for his temper, his sleeplessness causing him to snap and break like a dead leaf. Donny also hadn’t shown up to practice for the past week. He still hadn't slept. He still-

He woke up, surrounded by miles of daisies. He could hear a brook in the distance, the sky a brilliant blue. A bunny ran across his feet, chasing after a pure white butterfly that danced through the wind. Donny inhaled the scent of flowers and honey, feeling a sense of total calm. He was alone aside from the wildlife. Standing up, the tall boy realized that the daisies were as tall as his hips, something truly amazing due to his long legs. As Donny swam through the daisies, going towards the nothingness in the horizon, he heard a voice.  "Donny? Donny?!" Her tone was urgent, filled with fear. He felt the bubbling sense of panic.  Wake up wake up wake up. God dammit Donny just wake up. He thought to himself, realizing what was happening. He was too exhausted.  "Donny? Please help, she's coming!" The girl shouted out again. Her voice was vaguely familiar, but too far away to tell.  He began to run towards it. The daisies still let out their sweet smell, and the sky remained a brilliant blue. It was Donny's favorite color, the color the sky was. It was the blue of going to the Dunes, reflecting the dark, magnificent blue of Lake Michigan. It reminded him of one of the few times he managed to get away from home with his friends and go have fun. It was one of the best memories Donny had of his past life. Donny heard the voice cry out again and he was brought back to the field of daisies. “Hello? Where are you?” He called out, desperate to find the girl.  “Donny! Callan! Jett! Anyone, please help!” Arabella. Her voice was urgent. and he could hear in her tone that she was running. The panic in his chest began to boil, and he pushed himself to run faster. He could see her blonde curls flowing in the distance, and if it weren’t for the fear that was filling the air like toxic gas, it would be a beautiful scene. He eventually caught up to her, grabbing one of her wrists. It burned like fire. It stung like acid. Something was wrong. “B-Bella?” He whimpered, pulling his hand away.  The daisies began laughing. Their white centers and yellow petals shaking with the laughter, something that would haunt his nightmare--oh wait. “You really thought it would be someone you cared about?” The blonde’s voice was layered over itself, Bella’s voice, and then his mother’s. She laughed, shaking the entire field. “Oh, Donny, you really are stupid.” When who he presumed to be Bella turned around, her face was...mangled. Mauled. Horrific. She was missing her eyes, her face had cuts so deep that he could almost see the bone. “NO!” he screamed. “No no no no no Bella not you...” He said weakly, feeling his heart break. One of his best friends...No. It. Was. A. Nightmare.  But it made his blood boil and his skin crawl.  He ran.  The flowers coiled around him. He pushed through. Bella was really okay. It was a dream. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t...maybe it was. It looked real. it felt real. It couldn’t be just a dream. He came to a clearing he hadn’t seen before. There was a giant, bloody daisy with a face. It was smiling evilly.  “Oh, Donald, your friends are here to see you!” The daisy said with his mother’s voice. its leaves lifted to reveal a pile of bodies. “Look, they’re all here for your party!” It laughed again, causing  bile to rise in the boy’s throat. Everyone he loved, all of his friends, dressed in their best, ripped to pieces and thrown carelessly into a pile. Phoebe, Anderson, Jett, Callan, Bella, Maggie, Meaghan...everyone. He scanned their faces. No. Not everyone was there. Where was Alex? He felt the familiar sense of panic when burning hands wrapped themselves around his throat.  “It’s my fault they’re dead...and it will be my fault you’re dead, too.” The familiar voice rasped in his ear, and he knew. It was Alex. His sister.  “A-Alex...no.” he gasped, losing the ability to breathe.  “You’ll be able to join them soon enough.” The flower laughed again. It was the last thing Donny saw before everything turned to black. Then he woke up.

[oaksvilleghostface-blog]

;; Tavi + Ghostface

Ghostface:  What’s your favorite scary movie? Tavi:  What are you talking about?  Who is this? Ghostface:  It’s a simple question, Tavi.  Answer it. Tavi:  How do you know my name?  Nevermind.  I’m hanging up.

Tavi quickly ends the phone-call, her hands shaking from the prank.  First, she cursed whoever it was that was pranking here, but in the back of her mind, she feared that this wasn’t a joke.  But, nonetheless, she returned to the couch, sitting alone, per usual.

Her cell phone rings again.

Ghostface:  You should know better to hang up on someone who has your life in their hands? Tavi:  What the fuck does that mean? Ghostface:  Sometimes when there are murderers around, you should really lock your windows. Tavi:  My windows are locked, asshole. Ghostface:  Then how did I get in?

Tavi freezes, the phone dropping from her hand as she turns around.  Checking over her shoulder, she saw nothing but a blank wall.  But, she still felt as if there was someone watching her.  Somewhere.  It didn’t take long for her to grab her phone again, putting it up to her ear as she stands up from the couch.

Tavi:  What do you want from me? Ghostface:  To watch you die. Tavi:  This is a really sick joke, whoever you are. Ghostface:  I’m not laughing either.

Tavi feels tears welling up in her eyes, she hangs up the phone again, making her way through her house.  She stumbles into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.  She stares at the wooden doorway, backing away from it slowly, trying to calm her breathing down.  She runs into something hard behind her, causing her to scream.  She spins around, realizing that she has only bumped into her dresser.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she relaxes her arms for a moment, pulling her phone out of her pocket.  A single text reads across the screen.

Anonymous Number:  “I’m going to make you scream louder than that.”

Suddenly, an object is swung around her neck.  She gasps, grabbing at the hands that are now pulling a metal object tighter and tighter around her neck.  She tries to breathe in, but the thing around her neck prevents her from doing so.  Tavi desperately tries to fight back, swinging her arms widely around her, trying to hit the cloaked figure that is attacking her.

But, to no avail, she finally goes limp in the person’s arms.  The person who had just strangled her, drags her to the bed that is nearby, laying her down on the mattress.  The object around her is a necklace.  The same necklace that Lucy had blamed Tavi for stealing so many years ago, turning out to be the thing that ended her life, in a completely different way this time.  Tavi laid there, lifeless on the bed, mouth still wide open from trying to gasp for air that she’d never get.

In character, no one will know about this murder until it is reported by Cindy Summers.  Also, in the future, most kills will be more interactive than this, I just couldn’t reach Tavi’s player, due to inactivity.