12 Works in Abomination/Flagellant (Darkest Dungeon)
Listing Works
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Summary
Role Reversal AU. What if Damian was a wechuge and Bigby was a traveling monk who got lost in the woods? No beta. Read at your own risk.
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Damian and Bigby explore their new relationship. AKA: Bigby needs a pep talk and things get spicy. No Beta. Read at your own risk.
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Thought about one possible situation in which they meet (again) in Darkest Dungeon 2, but Bigby holds a grudge against Damian for, reasons.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 754
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 6
- Hits:
- 71
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"It ain't true." The lanky looking man next to him said, whose face was about a palm's distance away from him. "Y'know. What she said. 's your own bin. They ain't sleepin' in it."
"Excuse me." It was abrupt and definitely questionable in terms of manners, but Reynauld had enough. Tonight was already packed with unpleasant excitement, he wasn't going to stoop as low as allowing himself a pub therapy after the previous spectacle. He counted the exact amount of cash and set his glass over it. That ought to be clear enough.
Now, the man finally got it. He had the decency to raise his glass as a kind of acknowledgement. Reynauld nodded at him with polite disdain and walked out without looking back.
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The ghastly acid flowing within the humanoid beast belonged only in the shadowed realm of the eternally damned.
A vessel as spiritual as he was ought not to serve with the monstrosity that nature itself abhorred, yet as a servant of the Light, he did not cower in front of such assignment.
No doubt it was another trial set to test his endurance and forbearance, and such things were precisely what Light shall receive from him.
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...For whom the gloom of darkness has been reserved forever. by Rattusfaber
Fandoms: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
11 Jun 2023
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At the bar, he didn't bother talking to anyone. He waved a hand at whoever it was in there, threw a few coins on the counter and drank the bubbling, lukewarm thing outside.
Well, several of them, more than he should, probably. And when he did drag himself to the abbey and found the statue of a man there, he flung the door close behind him, almost losing balance in the process. Reynauld raised a censorious eyebrow at him. He didn't care.
"You ain't startin' shit." He said with half a hiccup, trying to be as intimidating as he could manage and walk a straight line at the same time. He felt vicious and he wasn't feeling bad about it. "Shut your yap."
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Bigby is tired of being treated badly by the flagellant. When he gets shackled after a bad expedition by the flagellant, everything he was holding back comes out.
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Bigby's watching onlookers drink and make merry. The flagellant comes up to him and just so happens to entice him to a night of fun.
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Rose had seen it all. She truly had.
Corrupted humans, eldritch abominations, walking fish-people.
The adventurers who come to help her clear her family's name are eccentric at best and downright sadistic at worst, every expedition into the corrupted lands invariably leads to the loss of her own sanity, and to top it off, her brother becomes possessed by the spirit of her dead grandfather and starts spouting drivel left and right.
Thus begins the long campaign. She does not know what she is expecting to find, but redemption is certainly not one of them.
The price of greed will invariably be paid.
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Abomination is stuck with the same guilt that had plagued him for years, and now guilt that isn't even his own.
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It is too beautiful.
The glistening of snow. The elevating mint of pine. The tang of oranges. How it is so quiet, save for the sweet echoing sound of wind and children. And ~Oh! ~ how that crisps air turns skin to rose petals. How it bring people together.And Flames are beautiful too. Flickering here and there, the smell of warmth, heat. Soft chirping of burning embers emulate a sort of warm taste within the mouth, enough to make one comfortable.
And he feels like the story about the sentient city. The one where it becomes its own ship, to find itself, yet he doesn't know it yet.
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The Flagellant was not much a man for words. He was an observer. Whenever he observed the Abomination and saw the wonder in his eyes, he resolved to see that expression more.