★ (tw for suicidal thoughts and mentions of drug usage)
(deer's back at it again at very sleepy rambling- read the last paragraphs if u don't want lore or stuff)
the pressure placed over the largest wound on his leg made the canines biting his bottom lip puncture the skin. the metallic tang of the blood that seeped between his teeth to his tongue didn't bother him like how it did before. it was oddly relieving in the sense that it was a confirmation that was still, in fact, alive. the thought that pestered him when he realized he was alive and breathing came back once more: how much he wished that wasn't the case; or, in simpler terms, how he wanted to be dead. nonexistent. without a pulse or puff of air tumbling out of him. they were morbid thoughts, but considering how long he'd had them for already, it didn't think they were. after all, the continuous 'reincarnations' due to some unfair and twisted immortality situation made him sort of in the okay to think such things.
as he kept bandaging the now-clean wound with some traditional cobwebs (thank god he was a healer in the sanctum and had some knowledge on what to do), his mind wandered away from the death thoughts to memories of the past month of so. it hurt emotionally to recount the events that had happened, but he really needed to get his mind off his aching and heavily bleeding body. he had actually begun to settle into the sanctuary decently, with him being surrounded by his children and gaining somewhat-friends in the place he was hesitant to call home. after all, his constant pathetic disappearances and reappearances made it impossible to do so. for once he was confident on not having to go anywhere else to satisfy his broken mind, especially not for his weaknesses of drugs and alcohol. he'd been sober for almost 2 weeks and had no plans to leave again, but something had come up. it was nothing related to his withdraws nor nervousness, but rather something to do with his role as the bogeyman. his domain was a very sensitive plane of existence, one that constantly needed its rulers too appear and make the scales tip to become balanced once more. if the realm didn't have any rulers there for a certain amount of time, it became freely chaotic. and whenever that happened, the rulers could feel it very well. when the realm began to lose it's order and foundation, funhaus had become weaker physically, mentally, and emotionally. such a thing had never happened to him before, but pure instinct made him drop everything and leave to his domain to sort things out. he hated the idea, but it was clear that the nightmare realm out of order would cause chaos on earth and certainly cause him to become... a monster- or more of a monster.
he'd been in the realm for who knows how long. time in there was practically meaningless. he'd spent more time near his spiteful mess of a brother fixing up their joint realm than ever before, and he hated every second of it. roosterteeth was someone he never was fond of and never will be. but after he got everything in order and before he and rooster can excel their normal verbal fights to dangerous physical brawls, he left the realm. some features had stayed on him such as his pitch black eyes and the horns that were tucked near his ears. it took about a day or so to just have them disappear and for him to return back to his tired and sad state. at this point he wasn't beat up. when he got out, a series of events happened: he let his demonic looks fade away, he walked around to find a way back home, he stumbled upon his old gang friend,,, old lover... current drug dealer by crossing paths, and he was lured to their old hideout to smoke and drink once more. after he had gotten high and began to sip at the strong liquor, his pal got far too close for his taste. although he was certainly not in the right state of mind, the heightened awareness the nightmare realm gives out was still there. so before he even realized it, they were fighting- or him dodging and failing after giving them a cut on their face. funhaus, who was high as hell, and them, who had cleverly not done anything, spent awhile brawling. somehow out of pure luck funhaus had knocked them out and he had escaped with a sliver of his life still connected to him.
it was how he was here now, battered and worn out, bloodied and aching, and dried up tear trails becoming wet once more as funhaus began to silently sob as he finished the outline of his long memories. he had never done such a thing before, fight the one who he often believed loved him for him. hell, he didn't even think he had it in him. of course it was all just luck and chance that such events occurred and that he escaped with his life and nothing more than that. he was still traumatized by it, and combined with his consistent anxiety and somberness, it was making him feel even more worse than any physical pains. he shook his head and gave a few shaky breaths as he finished bandaging up both legs. it hurt like hell to walk, but luckily he had found a way back to the sanctuary border, which made his now sober but frightened mind a bit more at ease. after testing out both legs and everything else, he heaved himself up and began to heavily limp over to the border. his home's border.
"h-hello?" funhaus' british voice called out, meek and shaky as he was still very much crying, yet not as much before. if anyone were to ask, he'd definetly say it was for the wounds. no need to delve back into the memories once more. he didn't want to tell them of him being the bogeyman, or admitting he has a problem with drugs and alcohol, or how his life was complete and utter shit. a few things made his life a bit better, such as his children, but he knew that he wasn't saving them from anything whatsoever, or even their hero anymore. he stiffly raised his painful paw up to rub the tears away from his eyes although they kept coming anyways. he had yelped as he harshly touched his many small cuts and bites along his face. which were sure to leave scars soon, "i'm funhaus k-kovic bonaparte gabriel, an-and i'm, um... back... does... does someone have painkillers... p-please tell me you do... this h-hurts..."
(basically bogeyman stuff and he stood up to his abusive kinda-partner and is kinda bleeding out and is an anxious and crying mess. has major wounds on his legs, stomach, and neck, and tiny bites and claw marks around his sides, cheeks, and upper legs)