Game Start

Hi guys

yoo did anyone hear about that special place? i think men can go there to emancipate the tyranny and bloodlust of their rulers or something idk

(happy two years o7)

id: a drawing of the original L’manberg caravan, surrounded by green grass, lakes, and the black and yellow L’manberg walls. end id

I don't have a name for him yet, but he's an 8 year old boy who lives in zaun, an inspiring artist who mainly does graffiti or large designs in chalk on street grounds. He's learning how to do portraits after seeing the rise in Jinx portraits all around after she became the figure of freedom

And small details that always make me smile, he 'dyed' his hair with chalk, and has belts around his shoes because he never learned how to tie shoes, oversized old overalls that he fixed up after finding them somewhere, jinx socks, and scars on his knees from learning how to jump rooftops. Also his hair is based on my hair irl

some TTOCW drawings of today.

commissioned by @re-bi-vebur

the favs ^_^

Must Be Something In The Water - Smile 2 Alternate Ending/Continuation

Chapter 2

Everything felt… foggy.

Like floating in an endless abyss of nothingness.

Everything felt overwhelming. Like the nothingness that surrounded her was beginning to consume her from the inside out. She could feel herself wasting away, becoming one with the universe all over again.

And you know what? That was okay, she found.

Nothing was better than everything. She had gone through so much in her final days, and she was quite frankly looking forward to finally escaping the pain and suffering.

And then…. Out of the nothingness came….

…something.

A pinprick of light at the edge of her vision, as if the darkness was only a sheet of paper, and had been stabbed by a sewing needle.

She reached for that light, letting it grow and swallow her.

For a moment, (or maybe it had been a while???) All she could feel was the feeling of cool air blowing against her skin, and the sounds of machines beeping all around her.

She slowly, and groggily regained consciousness, trying and failing to remember anything and everything that had taken place. Where she was. How she’d managed to get here.

The room had gone silent, she noticed first. That was odd. That monotonous beeping had been nice.

She felt her eyes flutter open, still blurry with sleep, and …. For some reason, her right eye was dark. As if something was blocking her vision.

She slowly lifted her fingertips towards her face, her arm trembling with the insane amount of effort it took to raise her arm at all. Her hand found soft cotton surrounding that half of her face. Had something happened to her eye???

She found, to her own dismay, she couldn’t recall. She couldn’t remember a lot, actually. What had happened. Who she was.

That one frightened her a little bit.

She couldn’t even recall her own name. She couldn’t recall… anyone’s name. She could remember vague faces and voices, but…. None of them had a name attached to their face.

She looked around, trying to make her eyes regain focus. The room was mostly dark, all aside from the light filtering in through the window nearby.

Once again, she realized that the room was dead silent, and horribly still. Was she in the hospital?? It almost seemed to be too quiet to be a hospital at all.

She opened her mouth and sucked in a breath, feeling her heart beginning to race as more and more questions without answers bubbled up.

She attempted to speak, and found that her throat was incredibly dry, her voice coming out cracked and inaudible. She hoarsely coughed, and tried clearing her throat.

“H-hello??” She croaked, hearing her own voice leaving her mouth and sounding so unlike her. She looked around the room again, and saw absolutely no movement. Heard no movement whatsoever. “Hello??? Someone help…” she whispered into the dark calm of the room, and was once again met with silence.

All at once, she realized that she was incredibly thirsty. She felt as though she hadn’t drank anything for days.

Her eyes darted to her bedside table, finding several vases of slightly wilted flowers and multiple cards, boxes, clothes… just a whole lot of nothing helpful. She found herself wincing, a pain beginning to flare up in her face and lower back.

Oh jeez. She couldn’t remember much from before, but she could definitely remember that back pain.

“…Doctor?” She called out, her rasping voice still barely breaching a whisper. “Nurse?… Anyone??” She breathed slowly, not understanding how she could be waking up like this and not have doctors and nurses surrounding her like vultures.

Why was that though??

She glanced over to the upper panel of her bed, and noticed the buttons to adjust her bed, as well as a big red button labeled “CALL”. She raised a shaking hand up and pressed the button, expecting a beep, a crackle of static from the speaker, anything. She was only met with silence. How odd. She pressed the button a few more times, listening closely to see if it was working. Silence was the only sound that greeted her.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, feeling a little flare of frustration rise up inside her. Those damn call buttons were literally there to save lives, and it just so happens that she got the one that didn’t work. Fantastic.

Her eyes were drawn back to the vase of flowers, more importantly, the water that the flowers were sitting in.

Her stomach churned at the sight of the water, and suddenly it didn’t seem to be such a big deal that she was in pain or that the doctors weren’t immediately at her bedside, because all she cared about was the fact that she needed water. Asap.

She reached her trembling arm out towards the vase, and found that lifting just the weight of her arm felt like an impossible task. She strained, trying to scoot over just enough that she could bat at the vase with her fingertips. She was finally able to get a slight grip on the vase and she dragged it closer, her hands reaching up towards the flowers she didn’t give a shit about, and tossing them to the floor.

She reached her other arm out, and carefully took the vase into her hands. Her arms shook with the effort it took to keep the vase held up, and after what felt like eternity, she was able to set the vase into her lap.

She felt a little grossed out at the thought of drinking from a dirty vase, but another part of her couldn’t make herself care enough to not get a drink.

Bringing the vase to her lips with trembling hands, she took a long drink of the water, and immediately felt her mouth and throat cool down. It was glorious, and the taste was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She didn’t really have time to taste it much before she was chugging the entire vase of water, ignoring the splashes that ran down her chin and onto the sheets and blankets.

She made it about ½ way through the water when a thought struck her, almost making her drop the vase on accident.

Her mother wasn’t here.

The memory of her mom startled her, and she found herself pulling the vase away from her mouth and sucking in a nervous breath.

Her eyes scanned the room again, this time in search of her mom. The room was still silent. Still empty.

She was still alone.

She had been angry with her mom, she slowly began to remember. She had yelled at her about something, and then her mom had screamed back at her. And then….

She glanced up to the wall, and found a mirror hanging on the opposite wall from her. In the mirror, she was able to see her own reflection staring back at her, and she was taken aback.

Her face was wrapped in a white cloth that was completely covering the entire right side of her face. She had a substantial amount of bruising around her usable eye and her nose, painting her skin in deep shades of black, blue and purple. Her hair was a tousled mess, and she looked as though she had not eaten anything in ages.

She looked frail. Weak.

She exhaled slowly, feeling her own breath shaking with her as things began to piece together.

Her name was Skye. She was a famous singer. And…something bad happened to her. A lot of bad things had happened to her, but something worse happened to her.

She vaguely remembered standing up on a stage, and seeing thousands of eyes gazing back at her from the darkness, lights from above completely blinding her. She remembered being terrified.

Suddenly, and all at once, her stomach did a flip and she fell forwards, hanging her head over the edge of the bed and vomiting up all the water she had just drank. Skye gagged harshly, until nothing came up again. She reasoned that maybe she shouldn’t have drank all that water so fast.

The adrenaline shock seemed to sharpen her mind, and she realized that usually a doctor would’ve come to check on her by now, if this was just a typical hospital. But no one had come yet… and now that she thought about it, since when were hospitals ever this silent?

Her gaze turned towards the door nearby, and she noticed that the door was closed and locked completely.

Skye furrowed her brows in confusion. Why would the doctors lock her in her room?

She suddenly felt a strong urge to get up out of bed and go looking around for someone.

She glanced down at her left arm, finding tubes and needles poked into her skin, covered up with clear medical tape.

She reached for the tubes and tried to gingerly tug them free from her skin, but she was immediately met with a flash of pain when trying to pull on them. She grimaced, instead moving to peel the tape away instead.

That worked better, and she was able to quickly free herself from the tubes and needles. She tossed them down to the side of her bed and scrunched her nose in disgust when blood began to seep out of the holes they had left behind in her skin.

Skye slowly moved to swing her legs off the edge of the bed, and found that it took a lot of her strength and concentration to make her body work and coordinate with her mind. She sat there for a moment, shivering at the sudden cold, not being covered by her blankets any longer. It was freezing, and the hospital gown that she had wrapped loosely around her body was not nearly enough to keep her warm.

She shivered uneasily, exhaling slowly. A small puff of mist escaped her mouth.

Okay. That was weird. Hospitals definitely shouldn’t be cold enough that the patients can see their own breath.

Skye shivered, reaching forwards and pulling a folded up hoodie off of her nightstand and slowly pulling it on over her head. The black fabric was soft, and still completely untouched. It was one of the hoodies she had released the last time she went on tour, and had an embarrassingly large image of her own face printed on the front, her name trailing down the left sleeve in a loopy cursive font.

Without a second thought, she carefully pushed herself off the bed and climbed to her feet, her knees trembling under her weight, and her leg muscles immediately threatening to give out under her. She inhaled shakily, before quietly letting it out and taking a step. The moment her leg lifted off the ground, she lost her balance and fell backwards, stumbling into the hospital bed directly behind her.

The smooth plastic railing dug into her spine, and instantly sent shots of pain through her like red fireworks. She grabbed the edge of the bed with all her strength, biting back a scream of pain, and trying to force her leg muscles to work.

Finally, after what felt like forever, her legs had stopped shaking so harshly, and she felt as though she was now able to stand on her own without her muscles betraying her.

She stood still for a moment, still shakily trying to breathe and regain her composure again. Her back was still throbbing angrily, but she figured since it was just a small bump she probably would be okay for the time being.

She gingerly snaked her fingers back behind her back and pressed against the sore spot, feeling the familiar ridge of her surgery scar. She massaged small circles into her muscles, trying to keep herself calm while she tried to alleviate the pain.

It didn’t take long before her back released a bit of its tension, her muscles warmed up and ready to move again.

She exhaled slowly, turning to look around her room now that she was up on her feet.

As she suspected, she was most certainly in a small hospital room. The only odd thing about it… well, all the lights and machines in the room were off. Even the heart monitor that she had been hooked up to was silent, its screen dark.

She swallowed, a nervous feeling beginning to rise up. She held onto the railing of her hospital bed once again, and carefully lifted her foot up, the muscles in her other leg still trembling weakly, but managing to keep her supported. She tried the other leg, and had a similar result.

She supposed she would probably be okay as long as she was careful. She just needed to step out of her room and flag down a nurse.

She took a wobbling step forwards, taking her hand off of the bed and praying that she was able to stay upright.

Her head was really beginning to bother her, and her eye throbbed painfully with every heartbeat. She really hoped she could find a nurse soon. Fuck, some Vicodin would be phenomenal right now. That thought irked a little bit of irritation in her, realizing the likelihood of the doctors prescribing it to her was extremely slim.

She took a couple more steps, being careful to stay upright and balanced, and finally, she was able to press her shoulder against the wall again. At least she had something to keep her standing, even if she lost her footing.

She lifted an arm, already beginning to feel the exhaustion setting in just from walking over here. She really wished she could sit back down for a moment, but she also really needed to have a nurse come in and speak with her. She still was having trouble remembering what happened and just how exactly she had gotten here.

She reached forward and pushed the door latch open, and then unlocked the door handle. She breathed slowly, trying to keep her body moving. The last thing she needed to do was have a fall right now.

She pushed the door handle down and took a few steps forward, peeking out the door.

Her heart sank.

The hallway was almost completely pitch black, and there were only 2 of the overhead fluorescent lights illuminated down towards the end of the hall. In the dim light, she could see the faint outlines of runaway gurneys littering the halls, papers covering every surface, and (though she may have just imagined it) she could’ve sworn she saw the still form of a person down at the end of the hall, lying completely still.

She felt herself immediately tense up, her breath catching in her throat. She took a small step back, letting the door slowly swing closed.

She inhaled slowly, her interest in going searching for a doctor vanishing in an instant.

Her heart had already begun to hammer frantically in her chest, her muscles instinctively beginning to tremble with the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

Oh god, something bad must be happening. Something really bad by the looks of it. How long had she been asleep for?? Where was everyone, and why had she been left here??

With panic beginning to course through her veins, she twisted the locks on her door closed once again and pushed the door stopper down. She took a few more steps away from the door, her mind beginning to flutter nervously with anxious thoughts. Why was she here?? What had happened?? Where were her friends and family? Where was her mom?

She let her fingers tangle into her hair, the nerves already overwhelming her, and she harshly tugged at her scalp in an attempt to make herself calm down. The longer she kept her hair clutched in her fist, the more it pulled her scalp until finally, several strands ripped free into her palms.

She felt herself take a deep breath in, letting the hair free from her hands and turning back towards her room.

There, on her nightstand, was her saving grace.

Her phone.

Instantly, her mind brightened at the thought. She could call the police. She could call her mom and ask her to pick her up. She could call Gemma-

Her mind nearly did a barrel roll at the memory of her lifelong friend’s name. Her old ride or die. The friend that insisted that she would stay with her through everything.

But she hadn’t, had she?

No. She had left when things got rough. When the drugs became an issue.

After Paul.

The crash.

Rehab, recovery, the tour, meet and greets, photo shoots, dress rehearsals, Lewis-

Her mind stopped on that memory, and it all was starting to come back to her. All the weird-ass behavior. The screaming. The crunching on bone and flesh against solid steel. The smile.

She outstretched her hand, bracing herself against the wall as her stomach did another somersault, and she instinctively leaned forward, attempting to throw something up that wasn’t there.

The smiles… they had been the problem. They were the things that had been chasing her, haunting her, hurting her. Using her mind like a weapon against herself. She remembered feeling as though she was going insane, like she had no control over anything that happened around or to her. Feeling less like a person and more like a puppet on a string, being yanked about for others entertainment.

For IT’s entertainment.

Another wave of nausea rolled over her as she explicitly remembered the way that awful….thing had looked at her. It looked so excited. So gleeful about her terror and pain. It’s eyes she remembered best of all. Those horrible bloodshot eyes, so swollen they looked ready to burst like overripe fruit left to rot.

The sounds of her jaw breaking inside her own head, as it tore her apart from the inside out.

That memory above all the others, made her physically cringe, her hands reaching up to grab at her face, just to satisfy her own mind that she did not, in fact, have her head split open like a watermelon.

That image made her feel even sicker.

She needed to stop thinking about this shit right now. There was a time and a place, and right now was not it.

She shambled back towards her bedside, her legs feeling stronger and stronger after each passing moment. Her hands found their way around her phone, unplugging it from the charger and clicking the power on. Her battery percentage was at 8 percent, it seemed the phone had never charged at all in the first place.

The date was November 25th, 2024.

The last point in which she could remember had been the launch day for her tour, which had been on October 18th.

She had been asleep for over a month.

Important fact: When it is eliminated, its body enters a state of recovery, turning into dust that is absorbed by its collar.

This form is only unique to the Revenant species and not humans and monsters.

While recovering the necklace may be exposed to the enemy. If this is broken it will interrupt the revenant's recovery state and even its permanent elimination...

Art By: GanzDraw! 

I really do love how it came out though

the amount of pain I went through for just these two seconds

I forgot how annoying hand drawing animating is

I am INVESTED in this story

tw: kidnapping, non-con drugging

The boy skidded to a halt, almost crashing into a tall body lurking in the middle of the street. He fumbled to steady his footing from the brick wall of a man that blocked his way, brows furrowed instantly in annoyance.

The sun was setting beyond the horizon and the sky had gone a dark red, with ashy grey clouds filling the expanse. The mask sitting on the man’s face made the boy initially think this was Mercenary. But when his head tilted down, finally drawing his attention to the smaller boy, he realised it wasn’t.

The child instantly went sheepish and blushed in embarrassment, having made a fool out of himself in front of an odd stranger.

“Sorry, mister,” he grumbled out, staring up at him with unblinking eyes. He was dressed in a similar get up to Mercenary, with the mask and all. Skulking in the shadows until he found what he was looking for...

The child felt uneasy as the man chuckled under his breath, folding his arms across his chest.

“It’s real creepy lurking on the streets,” the boy sniffed as he imitated his stance, puffing out his chest. “Especially with a Halloween costume.”

The masked man cocked his head. “And don’t you think its a little irresponsible to be talking to strangers?”

The child pouted. “I can look after myself! I’m not a kid.”

“That so?” came the dryly amused response. The boy nodded his head firmly; he hated people thinking he was some weak brat. Mercenary did it all the time and it grated profusely on his nerves. Giving the man one final sweep, the child hummed and blinked up at him.

“Are you one of those contract killers?”

The masked man didn’t move. “Yes, I am.”

Oh. The boy wasn’t expecting such a blunt answer. Was he telling him because he thought he was harmless? He scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Then can you kill somebody for me?”

The killer shrugged his shoulders, as if in playful exasperation, and reached for his belt. “Sure. After I’ve done this job.”

Pinched between his two fingers was a rectangular card, flashing it towards the boy smoothly. He took it from him, all while giving him a perplexed, yet judgmental stare.

“Contract killers don’t have business cards.”

“This one does,” he responded with a light chuckle. “How else are people meant to find me?”

“But Merce–” The boy caught himself and stumbled to cover his tracks. “–the people on the television shows say it’s just through the right connections.”

The masked man hummed. “You’re old enough to tell fiction apart from reality, aren’t you?”

The child’s expression wrinkled in anger and he sent him a deadly glare. He flipped over the card and glanced at the front, making a note to ask Mercenary about this guy. He seemed illegitimate and wondered if he was any good at his job at all.

“Of course I am, I’m not...” His heart sank to his boots and his words fizzled out on his tongue. His eyes were wide as he stared at the name on the front of the card, a name Mercenary had warned him about, a name he was meant to stay away from.

Stupid.

It was Mercenary’s rival. The rival that was out to kill them both. Along the ground came a bright stream of light, and the sound of a car slowly rolling up the pavement. The boy swallowed the parched lump in his throat and subtly glanced behind him, watching the black car come to a stop.

He bit the inside of his cheek and turned his focus back on the killer, who was already staring at him. The child could almost feel the smirk.

“I have to go...” He whispered shakily. He couldn’t hide the fear in his voice or his body. “I have to go.”

He turned to run, but a strong force yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, sending him crashing onto the hard floor. He scraped his hands and hissed in pain.

“Stay a bit,” the masked man cooed, his haunting steps coming closer by the second. “After all, I did say I had a job to do.”

The child scrambled onto his feet, ready to break off in a run. But he felt huge arms grab him and yank him back into the hard body, pinning him there. He instantly began thrashing frantically, swinging his legs in the air as he was carried back.

“Help!” He screamed, shredding his vocal chords as tears welled in his eyes. “Mercenary, help! He–”

A gloved hand closed around his mouth and nose, cutting him off. His fingers dug into the man’s wrist as he squirmed uselessly, gasping in pain when he felt the smack of hard leather seats beneath his body.

He lashed out with his legs and kicked viciously as the killer climbed in afterwards, shutting the car door behind him. There was something in his hand and the child cried out in fear, hands scrambling at the locked door opposite.

“No–” He wailed, terror flashing in his eyes as a hand wound through his hair and tugged him back. Something sharp pricked at his neck, and the boy tried reaching lazily for the door handle. His vision started swirling and his arm slumped against the seats.

Voices became too hazy to hear, and in a daze, the small child fell deeply unconscious.