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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 months ago

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Dancing Around Shadows

Shadow City AU - Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Once again, I did not expect to post another chapter of this so soon, but I've been so busy this week that I haven't been able to even start on the fic I originally had planned. Remember, this AU is not going to be posted regularly, basically just when I'm not able to complete a chapter for one of my other four stories for some reason. Which is so true this week. But it's been a fun sort of busy ^-^

In this chapter, Marvin is running his shop when JJ stops by again, and he decides to try something to get to know him better. Ever heard of reading the cards? At about the same time, Schneep is visited by Jackie, who wants him to come confirm something. It seems like both these encounters are centered around a certain someone... Hmm... Have fun reading :D

First Chapter | Second Chapter

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“Oh hey, you’re back.” Marvin looked up from his book as the door to his shop opened. It was that vampire from last night, Jameson. Or JJ, Marvin supposed. If he was going to be a regular customer, which he might, he should give him a nickname.

Jameson looked over at Marvin and nodded. I hope you don’t mind that I’ll probably be looking around and not buying anything, he said.

“Just don’t be too noisy and it’ll be no problem,” Marvin said.

JJ chuckled—or, at least, Marvin assumed that’s what that wheezing sound was. He started browsing the shelves, looking at all the little items. Marvin watched him for a moment, then returned to what he was doing. He was leaning back in the chair of one of the tables, reading. The book was propped up and he scanned it casually. On his lap was, unsurprisingly, a cat. This one was his tortoiseshell called Sam. She was very soft and fun to pet, but honestly Marvin had been sitting here a while and his butt was starting to hurt. But he wasn’t about to disturb her.

A while passed. Marvin continued to read, occasionally getting distracted by Sam shifting her weight on his lap. He put the book down for a moment to stretch his arms—and jumped back in surprise because Jameson was suddenly right in front of him. “Holy shit!” he shouted, and that combined with his startle caused Sam to wake up and jump off his lap.

Sorry! JJ signed, jerking backwards. He looked down at Sam as she ran off. I didn’t mean to scare you or your cat.

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just... fucking hell.” Marvin shook his head. “I didn’t hear you at all.”

Sorry, Jameson said again. I just wanted to ask you if I could read some of these books without buying them. I promise I won’t take any.

“Nah, I’m not worried about that.” Marvin waved off his concern. “You can read all you want. But like I said, I’m not sure how much use they’ll be to a vampire. They’re mostly spell books and shit.”

They’re not ALL spell books, Jameson pointed out. You have a lot of history books.

“Not as many as the library, but I do make do.” Marvin shrugged. “Honestly? The history books aren’t my favorite.” He picked up his own book again. In his surprise, he’d lost his place, so he searched through the pages to find where he was.

Jameson glanced down at the cover of said book. He raised an eyebrow. That’s an... interesting book.

“Hmm?” Marvin looked at the cover as well—and laughed. The front cover of the book featured a woman in inaccurate Victorian fashion swooning in the arms of a buff, shirtless man. “What? Have something against romance?”

No, that’s not it, I just... you didn’t seem the type to... read something like that, Jameson signed slowly. But I suppose I don’t know you that well...

“No, you’re right, I’m not exactly the target demographic, am I?” Marvin found the spot where he’d left off and picked up a bookmark from the table, sliding it in. “But I don’t read these books cause I’m, like, genuinely interested in it. I’m not really a romantic person, you’re right. Some of them are good, but most are kinda mid. I like to, uh... study them, I guess you could say. Sort of like ‘oh, so this is what people are into,’ you know? It’s fascinating. And when I find one of these books that features vamps or wolves, I like to share it with some friends of mine.” He grinned. “The way they cringe is hilarious.”

I see. Jameson nodded. I’m guessing you don’t sell those here.

“Maybe I could... People would definitely buy them.” Marvin tilted his head to the side. “Nah, it doesn’t really fit with the rest of all this.” He gestured at the shop.

Jameson looked around and nodded. Yes, everything here is magical, isn’t it? Supplies and such. Are there really enough witches in this city to run a business like this? Do you get many sales?

“Uh... I mean, I guess not? Enough to pay my bills and buy the occasional fun stuff. Oh, and the cat stuff, too.” Sam was approaching him again, and Marvin leaned down to give her pets before she walked right past him. “The supplies are the bestsellers, followed by my spell commissions and card readings.”

Jameson nodded. You... mentioned spells and card readings last night. So... if I wanted you to cast a spell, I could pay you to do so?

Marvin grinned. “Yep. I’m the strongest witch in the city, my spells are in high demand.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. Really?

“Of course!” Marvin chuckled. “Not only do vamps, wolves, and knowing everydays come here for my spells, but so do less powerful witches.”

If you’re so powerful, why are you running a little magic shop instead of doing something more... JJ paused. He gestured vaguely. Just “more,” I suppose.

“Like, what? Being a witch representative on the Night Council?” Marvin made a face. “Cause I don’t want to.”

JJ laughed another one of his silent, wheezing laughs.

“I’m serious. Too much responsibility, you know? And I bet I don’t get to do fun stuff like card readings if I was doing that.”

Alright, alright, it’s your life. And running a shop is surely difficult enough.

“Yep.” Marvin nodded. “What about you? You just moved here, right? Are you planning on blending in with the everdays or are you going to keep lurking in the shadows?”

Jameson hesitated. Some sort of emotion flashed across his face, too quick for Marvin to identify. I’m not sure... we might leave again, but it’s hard to tell when. So... not blending in. I hope I can get to know some of the shadowed community here, though.

“There are plenty of hidden places, you know,” Marvin said. “If you need money and want to meet people, you could work at one of them. I hear the library is always looking for help.”

Jameson didn’t say anything for a while. That emotion from before returned, lingering a little. Was it... sadness? Marvin hesitated, unsure what to say in response to that... and then Jameson changed the subject. You mentioned card readings, as well? You mean like tarot?

“Oh!” Marvin blinked. “Y-yeah, tarot. I, uh... I like to do readings for people. You, uh... do you know about the arcanas? It’s hard to tell with you vamps, I I don’t know how long you’ve been around or what you learned in that time.”

I never paid too much attention to tarot, I’ll admit, Jameson said. What sort of readings do you do?

Marvin smiled. It wavered at first; he wasn’t sure if he should address the sadness he saw on Jameson’s face. But then it steadied out. It was probably fine. Or at the very least, it wasn’t something he should get into with a guy he’s only had two conversations with. At least he got to talk about cards now. “All sorts! Fortune readings, life readings, love readings, personality assessments—a couple times I’ve done searches for people but if you want one of those I have to put a truth spell on you, to make sure that you’re not looking for something for nefarious reasons.”

Jameson nodded along. What’s a personality assessment?

Marvin’s eyes lit up. “Would you like to find out? I can give you one right now if you want!”

Jameson blinked, surprised at Marvin’s sudden enthusiasm. I don’t know... how much would it cost?

“I’ll give you one for free!” Marvin said excitedly. “That way you can see a card reading firsthand. And then mayyyybe you’ll want to pay for another one?”

How devious, Jameson said, smiling slightly. Alright, I’ll try one out. I’m curious, and I don’t have anything else to do tonight.

“Great!” Marvin stood up and hurried over to the counter at the back. He scooped up his mask and two decks of cards. Turning around, he held up the decks for Jameson to see. One had green backs with elaborate golden lines forming patterns. The other had blue backs with silver lines that made a central circular design, like an eye, with angular, crystalline patterns around the edges. “Traditional cards or crystaleye arcana?”

Jameson blinked. I didn’t know you could do card readings with regular cards. And I’ve never heard of... “crystal eye.”

“Oh, let’s show you a crystaleye reading, then!” Marvin said excitedly. “This arcana isn’t as popular as the traditional French tarot, or even the lesser-known Thoth arcana, but I think you can get some interesting readings from it! And yes, you can do readings with regular cards. They’re best for simple questions.”

I see, Jameson said. Well, I’ll trust your judgment, then.

“Ah yes, judgment, like the popular Judgment card—” Marvin broke off, laughing. “I’m sorry, I see card names everywhere.” He returned to the table, sitting down. He pulled his mask down—he didn’t need it for the reading, but he did think it made him look mysterious and cool—and shuffled the crystaleye deck. Then he spread them out on the table between him and Jameson.

How does this work? Jameson asked.

“You’re going to choose five cards, one at a time,” Marvin explained. “For this first one, while you’re picking out the card, think about how other people see you, especially your friends and family. Choose one that you feel drawn to.”

JJ’s brow furrowed. He reached out, hands hovering over the line of cards, moving back and forth before he pulled out one at the end, flipping it over. The card had an illustration of a young man in an elaborate patterned shirt, with a bag on a stick slung over his shoulder. It was facing Jameson, not Marvin—meaning it was reversed in the tarot arcana. I know this one, he said. It’s a fool, right?

“The Fool, yes.” Marvin nodded. “It usually stands for new beginnings, and when representing a person, it means someone who’s a free spirit. But when it’s reversed like this, it means someone who’s too naive, who’s easy to take advantage of. So... the people who know you might not, uh, have the... highest opinion of you.” He tried to be gentle about it. “Not necessarily in a malicious way. They might just underestimate you.”

Jameson smiled a wan smile. I see... that does make sense.

“I’d uh... probably think a lot about your relationships,” Marvin said.

That same flicker of sadness appeared on Jameson’s face. What’s next, then? he asked, moving on.

Marvin cleared his throat. “For this next one, think of what you do.”

What I do? JJ repeated.

“You know, hobbies and your job and stuff,” Marvin explained. “Well, I guess you don’t have a job right now, but you know what I mean. Think about this as you choose the second card.”

Jameson nodded. He pushed the reversed Fool to the side and reached for the cards. After a moment, he pulled out one from the center, flipping it over to show an illustration of a thick forest, with a hooded human figure walking through the trees.

“Oh, the Wanderer,” Marvin said. “This card means aimlessness, or being lost.” He paused. “You... probably don’t have much going on, then? Or maybe you’re unsure what to do?”

A second passed. Jameson nodded slowly. I suppose I’m not... actively practicing any hobbies.

“Well that sucks,” Marvin said bluntly. “Especially for a vampire. You guys live for like, forever. You have to have hobbies to keep from going crazy.”

Jameson chuckled silently.

“No, for real. Was there anything you used to do that you stopped doing? Maybe you should pick it up again, see how you feel about it now. Or, uh, try something new! Doesn’t have to be completely new, it could be similar to something you already know. Like, uh, if you know how to knit, maybe learn how to crochet.”

Do I look like the type of person who knows how to knit? JJ asked. He wasn’t offended by Marvin’s statement. More amused than anything.

“It’s just an example,” Marvin said.

I know, I know. Jameson smiled. Thank you. I’ll think about things. Shall we move on?

“Sure. For the third card...” Marvin paused. He was always unsure how to explain this one. Or, to be more specific, he was never sure if other people would understand what he meant. “When choosing it, think about your... power. Your capabilities. What you are able to do. You know?”

Luckily, Jameson seemed to understand right away. He looked at the cards, then pulled one out. This one had an image of a clock face, surrounded by stars, with a purple and blue background swirling around it as if drawn to the clock. It also came out reversed.

“Oh, Time!” Marvin said, surprised.

JJ blinked. Is that an unusual card to draw?

“Well, when I’ve done personality assessments for vampires before, they usually get Silence or the Faceless, occasionally one of the disaster-based cards like Wildfire,” Marvin explained. “Time is one of the later cards in the journey. When upright in this sort of reading, it would mean someone who’s very capable, always able to move forward regardless of obstacles. But yours came out reversed... Hmm...” He bit his lip, thinking. “Maybe... you’re not able to reach your full potential right now. Something is stopping you. Do you feel... trapped, in some aspect of your life?”

Jameson tensed slightly. So... a personality assessment is meant to make you think about yourself and your life, then?

“Basically, yeah,” Marvin said, noticing that Jameson didn’t answer. Well, maybe he wasn’t comfortable. He shouldn’t pry. “Are you ready to move on?”

Yes please, Jameson said.

“Alright. Second to last one,” Marvin said. “Think about your past. Who you used to be, how different you are now, and how it's all shaped you.” This would be very interesting to see. It always was, with people who’d lived a long time.

JJ tilted his head to the side. He spent a while trying to find one this time, hand moving back and forth, occasionally reaching for one before drawing back. Finally, he picked out a card, flipping it over to reveal another reversed card. This one was an illustration of a man and a woman, standing underneath a tree.

“The Lovers,” Marvin said. “The reversed Lovers. I see. The upright Lovers represents duality and trust, so naturally the reversed version means the opposite. Oh, did I explain that? That if it’s upside down it means the opposite of what it usually does?”

JJ smiled. You didn’t, but I figured it out from context. Though the smile was meant to convey lightheartedness, it soon faded to a more serious expression. Let me guess. It means distrust, doesn’t it?

“Yep,” Marvin confirmed. “Imbalance, disharmony, one-sidedness... Your past has been defined by conflicted relationships. Or... maybe just one conflicted relationship? You would know better than me.”

Again, a flash of emotion. Not sadness this time. It actually looked like Jameson was annoyed at something.

An idea came to Marvin, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Your roommate, maybe?”

Jameson jumped in surprise. Then his shoulders slumped. I told you about him yesterday, didn’t I?

“Mentioned it vaguely... sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up, I just—” Marvin cleared his throat. “Anyway. Now for the finale.” He flashed a grin. “Think of the opposite of yourself. The type of person you would never want to be. The worst parts of yourself embodied.”

JJ nodded. He reached for a card right away, clearly not thinking too much about it. When he flipped it over, the illustration was that of a person. Though the background was dark, they were a pure black silhouette that stood out even against the shadows, edged in violet magic with glowing acid green eyes.

“The Void!” Marvin said cheerfully.

You sound too happy for such an ominous card, JJ said, grinning.

“Well, for a reason. The Void, sometimes called the Monster, represents... well, a bunch of bad stuff. Pain, aggression, some say ‘evil’ but I think that simplifies it too much.” Marvin began pushing the other cards, the ones that Jameson didn’t choose, back into a deck. “Basically, if this is who you don’t want to be, then you’re probably a really good person. You don’t want to hurt people. Which is good to know! But, uh, probably makes being a vampire a bit difficult.”

Jameson sighed. Well... yes, I knew this. But I’ve gotten... used to it.

“Hmm. You’ve been in town for a week, right?” Marvin looked at him. “Do you... know where the blood banks are?”

Jameson shook his head slowly.

“Where have you been eating, then?” Marvin asked gently.

My roommate... brought something home once, Jameson said slowly.

“Do you want to talk about that?” Marvin asked.

You probably wouldn’t want to hear about it, Jameson said. It wasn’t pleasant. His eyes widened. But don’t worry, nobody died! he added hurriedly.

“I didn’t think they did,” Marvin reassured him. “Just... be careful, okay? The Scuabyrg Night Council is a bit stricter on harming everydays than other Councils. Tell your roommate that, too. Though I don’t know if they’ll listen if they’re the sort to... Just, be careful.” He glanced around. “I have maps of the city in here, maps with all the hidden places marked. I know the blood banks are on there. How about I get you one of those?”

JJ nodded. That would be appreciated.

“Great.” Marvin grabbed the five cards Jameson had drawn, putting them back into the deck. Then he stood up, walked around the back counter again, put his cards back, then pulled a folded sheet of paper from a folder hanging on the wall. “It looks like an ordinary street map most of the time. To activate the hidden marks, write the word ‘reveal’ on the paper. You can do it with a pen if you want, the ink will disappear, but just tracing it with your finger would be fine, too. Write ‘hide’ to deactivate the marks again.”

As he talked, Jameson got up and walked over to the counter as well. He reached into his pocket and took out... a wallet. That’s definitely a wallet. He set it down on the counter and signed, How much?

“Oh no, free of charge,” Marvin said.

JJ shook his head. At least let me tip you or something. You already gave me a free card reading.

Marvin hesitated. Then nodded. “Well... give me what you can afford. And no more than that.”

JJ smiled, a hint of his teeth peeking out from between his lips. He opened up the wallet, rummaged around, and took out some coins, setting them down on the counter. Marvin picked them up. Six one-pound coins. I’m sorry, I don’t have any notes, Jameson said.

“It’s fine,” Marvin reassured him. “You don’t have to pay anything, like I said.” Honestly, he usually charged five pounds for the maps, anyway, so JJ was already giving him extra.

I know, but... you’ve been kind, and I appreciate that, Jameson said slowly.

“Just trying to do... what I do.” Marvin laughed awkwardly. “Here.” He handed Jameson the map.

JJ put his wallet away and accepted the map. I’ll be going now. But I might be back tomorrow night, or the night after.

“I’ll see you then, then!” Marvin said, smiling.

Jameson nodded. Then he turned around and headed out, weaving around the tables to keep a distance from the cats. He clearly didn’t want to scare them.

Marvin opened up the till and put the coins away. While he did that, Sam hopped up onto the counter, followed shortly by Higgins. He reached out and petted them both, one at a time. “What d’you two think of him?” he asked.

The cats purred in unison. Sam’s purring was slightly scratchier than Higgins’.

“Well, if you guys like him, I like him,” Marvin said. He looked out the shop’s front windows. “Wonder what’s up with him. I think he’s had a... complicated life. But, uh, then again, a lot of vampires have. Since they live for a while. But you know what I mean. More complicated than usual.” He sighed. “What d’you think I should do about that?”

Sam yawned and sat down, loafing. Higgins stretched.

“Yeah... I should, shouldn’t I?” Marvin muttered. “If only to hear more about that roommate of his. He sounds like an asshole. Someone to keep an eye on.” He paused. “Besides... he said he’ll be back, anyway. He seems nice. But... sad. I wonder... wonder if there’s anything I could do...” He trailed off, expression becoming thoughtful. Then, after a moment, he shook his head. “Well. Back to it, I guess.”

He walked back over to the table and sat down, picking up his book once again.

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St. Damian’s Hospital was well-known for its in-house medical lab, where you could get tests done without having to send them off to a specialized place. And of all the tests the lab ran, most of them involved blood. Checking for blood diseases, various deficiencies, illnesses, just about everything a blood sample could go through could be done at St. Damian’s.

So was it really that surprising that vampires worked there?

Okay, there weren’t many vampires. There were ten, exactly, working in different positions at the hospital. There were also twelve witches whose magic was focused on healing or the human body, four werewolves, and dozens of ghosts (surprisingly, none of them were patients in life, but instead people who’d worked there and developed a strong emotional attachment to their jobs.) After all, the shadow world needed medical professionals, too.

Of the ten vampires who worked at St. Damian’s, Schneep was the only one with a particular special ability. Not because it was any special vampiric power he had. No, this was a skill he’d developed over the past fifteen years. It made him very valuable to the hospital... but it was difficult to explain it away a lot of the time.

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” A voice called through the door, knocking on its surface. “Are you in there?”

“Ah—just a moment!” Schneep glanced towards the locked door, then turned his attention back to the samples before him. He twisted off the lid of one and—again glancing towards the door—raised it to his mouth, sipping the blood inside. He paused for a moment, considering the bloodtaste. His nose wrinkled a bit. Definitely some sort of anemia. Low amounts of B12. He made a note of that on the computer and put the sample back.

Knock knock knock. “Dr. Schneeplestein?” The voice repeated. “Uh... you can’t lock the lab door while the hospital is open.”

“I know, I know!” Schneep said, picking up another sample. This person must be new, if they aren’t familiar with his habits. But still, he was running out of time. He opened another sample and took a sip—and instantly spat it back into the sample tube. Well... that was contaminated now. More than the samples usually were once he “tested” them. But he couldn’t help it; he really hated the bloodtaste of clotting blood. He quickly made a note of that on the computer, adding that the patient should start taking anticoagulants. Soon.

Knock knock knock knock knock. “Dr. Schneeplestein! Really!” This was a second voice, a familiar one. Miranda, one of the phlebologists. “You can’t keep doing this!”

“I need concentration!” Schneep snapped. He picked up the last sample and sipped it. Hmm... this wasn’t too unusual. He took a second sip, just in case. No, nothing strange in the bloodtaste here. It was possible he was missing something, but he hadn’t missed something in a long time. He set it aside for more testing later, making a note to have Lemoine do it—one of the other vampires in the hospital, one who knew how to compensate for the contamination of Schneep’s tests.

“We’re coming in!” Miranda shouted. “I have the keys!”

“Alright, alright!” Schneep got out of the swivel stool and hurried over to the lab door, opening it up. Miranda had a ring of keys in her hands, ready to unlock the door. Next to her was a hospital staff member Schneep didn’t recognize—one who looked human, like Miranda was, but for all Schneep knew this new staff member could be another witch. Probably not, though. The others would’ve mentioned that. “You may have the lab.”

“Oh, may we?” Miranda raised an eyebrow. “May we use this public space?”

“It is not public.”

“You know what I mean.” Miranda put her keys away. “We didn’t actually want to use the lab. We were looking for you.” She jerked her head towards the other staff member. “Or, Cody was looking for you.”

“I see.” Schneep took a good look at the other man—Cody, apparently. He was wearing scrubs and a nametag, which meant he was a nurse. “Are you new here?”

“Y-yes,” Cody said, nodding. “Are—are you?”

Schneep raised an eyebrow. “I have worked here for nine years.”

“Oh right! Of—of course! I, uh—” Cody shook his head. “Wait no! Th-this is important! There’s someone who’s, uh, asking for you?”

“Really?” Schneep straightened to attention. “I don’t have any appointment scheduled, do I?”

“N-no, it’s, uh—It’s not a patient, I think, it’s... a visitor? He said to come soon?”

“A visitor? Who?” Schneep asked.

“I... didn’t get a name,” Cody admitted.

“Hmm... wait.” Schneep narrowed his eyes. “Is it a man with brown hair and blue eyes?”

“Yes.” Cody nodded.

“Short or long?”

“Uh—short?”

“Wearing a red hoodie?”

“Yeah.”

Schneep sighed. “I know him. That is my friend Jackie. If he is here, it is probably not too urgent. But I will go, anyway. Where is he?”

“Here, uh, I can take you to him,” Cody said. He glanced at Miranda. “Uh, thanks again.”

“No problem.” Miranda nodded. She must have had to help Cody find him.

“Lead the way, then,” Schneep said, gesturing for Cody to start walking.

A few minutes, a couple hallways, and one elevator ride later, they arrived in one of the overnight wards for patients to stay at. Schneep frowned, confused why Jackie would be here if he wasn’t a patient. Visiting someone, maybe? But who— “There you are!” Jackie was waiting by the nurse’s station on this floor. The moment he saw Schneep he ran on over, skidding to a halt inches from him. “That took forever! What the hell?!”

Schneep noticed Cody turning red with embarrassment, and he quickly said, “You sent for me while I was in the middle of running some tests, Jackie. Did you not consider that?”

“Ah, sorry. But this is important!” Jackie insisted.

“Why is it so important?” Schneep asked.

“Here, c’mon! I’ll show you!” Jackie grabbed Schneep by the wrist and immediately began pulling him down the hall. Schneep yelped, but didn’t pull away, only hurried to keep pace with him.

Jackie took him to a room at the end of the hallway, opening the door and dragging him inside. “I found him! See, I told you he’d be here!”

Schneep looked around the room. This was only built for one patient—as most of the rooms in this ward were—with a single bed, a tiny bathroom, a wall-mounted TV, and a wide window showing the night sky outside. It was a small room, but it was absolutely crowded. Schneep glanced around, counting six people standing around and two sitting in the chairs that came with the room. He recognized most of them, though he didn’t know their names off the top of his head. “Ah... hello, Heartwoods pack,” he said.

The others all responded with a chorus of hellos.

“Everyone, this is Henrik,” Jackie said. “I dunno if all of you have met him. Schneep, this is Lily, Nao, Kelly, Cass, Russell, Paul, and Ishani. And, of course, Leo.” He pointed at the bed, where a man with dark hair and green-gray eyes was sitting. His arms were covered in bandages, and there was some padding under his hospital gown where there were, no doubt, more bandages. Leo raised his hand and waved.

“Pleasure to see you all again,” Schneep said. “And to get a reminder on your names—thank you Jackie. Now, ah... why am I here?”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Jackie, you didn’t tell him on the way here?”

“Well it was too important!” Jackie insisted.

Schneep sighed. Then he looked at the last person in the room, the only one who had not been introduced. “And, ah... who are you? Are you the ‘new guy’ they have all been talking about?”

“Not exactly.” The man sitting in the armchair shook his head. “My name is Arthur Griffith, I’m a night guardian.”

“Oh!” Schneep started.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Arthur stood up, holding out his hand for a shake. He was tall and thin, all a solid straight line. His brown hair was combed back, revealing white streaks near the temples, and his face was framed with a pointed beard. His eyes were an unnatural silver color—a sign of magic.

“Ah, yes, the same.” Schneep shook his hand. “How can I help you?”

“Well.” Arthur nodded at Leo. “If you would mind telling the story again, Mr. Barclay.”

“Uh... alright.” Leo looked over at Schneep. “So... you’re that vampire that Jackie’s always going on about?”

“W-wait a moment!” Schneep turned around and grabbed the door, pulling it closed. “Be careful.”

“Oh shit! Sorry.” Leo had the grace to look a bit guilty. “Didn’t think.”

“Not a problem,” Schneep said. “Anyway, yes, I am that vampire that Jackie’s always going on about.” He looked over at Jackie as he said this. “Hopefully he has said good things.”

“All good things!” Jackie said. “Or funny things!”

“What ‘funny things’?”

“Like that time you drank five currant heart cocktails and started chewing on that candle—”

“Heyheyheyheyhey!” Schneep covered Jackie’s mouth. “I thought we agreed to keep that between us!”

Jackie pushed his arm away. “Oh come on, like Marvin hasn’t told some of his regulars by this point.”

“I bet he hasn’t!”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Can we get back to the story?”

“Sorry!” Jackie said. “Go on, Leo.”

Leo nodded. “Well, uh... I had work yesterday. I wanted to leave early so I could come join the others for Bryson’s first day transformation—that’s, uh, the newest member of our pack, he’s great. But anyway, I couldn’t leave early. My boss insisted that I stay back to do inventory, like, right then. So by the time I could finally leave, the sun had set. I knew that the others would be coming back soon so I headed back to the apartment. But... when I was almost there, I was...” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Attacked.”

Some of the wolves growled protectively, Jackie included.

“Oh... I-I see,” Schneep said, eyes flicking over the bandages. “I am so sorry. Who... o-or what... was it?”

“A wolf,” Leo said. “A black wolf. Not a werewolf, it was too small. But it was too smart to be an escaped zoo animal or something. And... surprisingly vicious, too. As you can see.” He reached over and pulled back one of the bandages—or at least started to, before Nao reached over and stopped him. “I was able to fight them off long enough to get away and start heading back to the flats.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Schneep said. “But... I must ask, why am I here?”

Jackie looked at Leo. “What did the guy smell like, again? What was the scent?”

“Well... something chemically,” Leo said slowly. “Reminded me of death.”

“Formaldehyde, right?” Jackie insisted.

“I... guess? I’ve never smelled formaldehyde.”

“Jackie, why are you so hung up on the scent of the attacker?” one of the wolves, Ishani, asked.

“Because!” Jackie looked over at Schneep. “When you got jumped by that guy, the one who stole your wallet and you bit him? I got a whiff of his scent, and it was formaldehyde. If it was the same guy, then we can identify him!”

“Ah, I see.” Arthur nodded. “It also means that there might be a connection between the acts.”

“Or, at the very least, there’s a guy out there attacking people randomly!” Jackie said.

“Uh... the wolf didn’t take anything from me,” Leo pointed out. “But then again, I was also a wolf at the time, so, uh. Yeah.”

“Dr.... Schneepsein, was it?” Arthur said. “Please tell me what you remember about being attacked that night.”

“Ah... well, first, it is Dr. Schneeplestein,” Schneep corrected. “But yes, I would tell you everything... but I am not sure it will be much of use. I didn’t get a good look at the guy, and anything notable was already recorded in my report of the mugging to the Night Council.”

“Go over it again, please, Dr. Schneeplestein,” Arthur said. “Mr. Sheach was there, too, wasn’t he? He can add details as well.”

Jackie nodded. “C’mon, Schneep! If it’s the same guy, we can’t have them randomly attacking people.”

Schneep sighed. “Alright. I will tell you what I remember.”

There wasn’t much to tell, though. He and Jackie were walking home when someone suddenly swooped down from a lamp post and attacked Schneep. Jackie shifted and tried to stop them, Schneep bit them, and then they disappeared, taking Schneep’s wallet with him—which he was still upset about. His hospital ID was in there. He had to have someone open the hospital staff doors for him until his new one was ready. Which was really, really annoying.

“You’re sure it was another vampire?” Arthur asked, looking at Schneep intensely.

“As sure as I can be,” Schneep confirmed. “When I bit him, I tasted the blood. It was... Well, vampire blood is very... flat. Like, ah, soda when all the carbonation goes away. This blood was also flat in that same way, though there was an odd note to it.”

“Hmm... a note of what?” Arthur asked.

“It was like... like old,” Schneep said. “Like... fruit that was left out of the fridge for a couple days but hasn’t rotted. I think.” Vampires couldn’t eat solid food, so his memories of how certain foods tasted had grown a bit fuzzy over the past fifteen years. “Strangely heavy, too. A bit thicker than usual. But that could have just been because of blood the vampire recently drank. The old, flat taste was definitely his own bloodtaste.”

Arthur nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a spiral notebook. He opened it up to a blank page, tapped the center three times with his pointer finger, and silver lines spread out from the point of contact. Jackie leaned over... and saw a transcription of the conversation writing itself down. “You could’ve recorded it on your phone or something, you know,” he said.

“This is not just for me,” Arthur said. “A copy of this is appearing in the Archives at city hall right now.”

“...could’ve just... emailed an mp3 file or something...” Jackie muttered.

“We will definitely look into both these cases,” Arthur said. “Thank you very much, Mr. Barclay, Dr. Schneeplestein. Best wishes on your recovery, Mr. Barclay. If either of you remember anything, I trust you know where to go? The rest of you as well?”

Everyone nodded in comedic unison. Jackie and a few other wolves couldn’t help but laugh.

“Perhaps I’ll be seeing you around,” Arthur said. He bowed his head, then left the hospital room.

After a moment, Jackie turned to Schneep. “Thanks for coming down and sharing all that while you’re on the clock.”

“Oh, is not a problem, Jackie,” Schneep said. “I did not have much scheduled for today, anyway. I hope it helped.”

“Still. You said you were doing tests. Must’ve been... inconvenient.”

Schneep grinned. His fangs flashed in the artificial fluorescent light. “You know it does not take me nearly as long as the machines.” His smile fell. “Ah, though I need to dispose of the used samples quickly.”

“Go on back, dude,” Jackie said, patting his back. “I’ll see you later? Oh! Did Jack tell you about the thing with that ghost—”

“Yes, he did. I let him know which nights I’m free on. Or maybe he could wake me up early if it’s cloudy enough.” He hoped he didn’t, though. Even an overcast day was uncomfortable, especially considering he’d have to walk for at least part of the way.

“Nah, Jack wouldn’t do that,” Jackie said. “I’ll see you then for sure, maybe before that. Text you and stuff.”

“See you later, Jackie,” Schneep said. “Goodbye, Heartwoods pack.”

The other wolves said a variety of goodbyes, and Schneep turned and left the room.

Could it be true? Was there really someone out there attacking people? A vampire who could turn into a wolf... they were not unheard of, though the vampiric power to shapeshift was pretty rare. What could this stranger want? He stole Schneep’s wallet, so maybe just money? But then he attacked a wolf... maybe he was just attacking random people. But if he was willing to attack other creatures of the night, he was definitely willing to attack the everydays. And if the everydays started noticing strange attacks... how long before they started noticing other strange things?

Schneep shivered. It would be fine. These might just be isolated incidents. The Night Council and the guardians would probably take care of this soon. There was nothing to worry about. He should focus on his work. There were more samples he had to test.

Slowly, he made his way back to the lab, where he buried himself in samples and tests for the rest of the night until his shift was over.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #shadowcityau

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candycandy00 · 10 months ago

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Choose Your Own Price Fanfic Commissions

I’m now open for commissions!!!!!

If you’d like to request a fanfic from me, here’s how to do it!

What You’ll Get:

A one-shot fic. I never even look at word counts and the idea of being restricted by such a thing scares me so I can only say that it will be a one-part story around the same length as my other one-shots. Look over my master list for plenty of examples (in particular, look over the requests I’ve filled).

I can’t give a specific time frame but, depending on whether or not I’m currently working on something, it will probably take me around 5-10 days to complete it. When we discuss your commission, I’ll be able to give you a clearer time frame.

What You Can Request:

All of the rules on my Welcome Post still apply. No minors, no animals, no scat/pee/vomit. I can do SFW or NSFW. Any genre (though I warn you that I suck at comedy). I’m fine with doing dark content like horror, gore, rape, etc. I’m fine with doing AU’s, sequels to my previous fics, anything like that. If something is a little too far out of my wheelhouse, I might have to say no, or perhaps “dumb it down” a bit. I’m not going to do a ton of research. Like if you want an AU set in a very specific historical setting, please don’t expect total historical accuracy. I’ll do my best to capture the feel of what you want but that’s all I can promise.

I can do Character x Reader or Character x Character. I’m also willing to do “threesome” situations, like Gojo x Reader x Geto for example. But no more than two canon characters per commission.

I’m fine with doing fem, masc, or gender neutral characters. I’m fine with any/all sexualities. I won’t write Reader as a specific race. I can do some specifications such as a chubby Reader, short Reader, etc. as well as some personality traits (example: shy Reader). But please don’t get super specific on the Reader if you can help it.

I will write for the following fandoms: My Hero Academia, Jujutsu Kaisen, Wind Breaker, One Piece, Blue Lock, Prince of Tennis, Demon Slayer, Black Clover, Bungo Stray Dogs, Kaiju no. 8, and Durarara!!. If you want something from a different series, feel free to ask. It doesn’t have to be anime/manga either. I’m very familiar with Marvel characters, X-Men, Final Fantasy, Persona/Shin Megami Tensei, Tales of series, Horror Movie characters, etc. I might not feel comfortable doing it if I’m not real into the character, or not familiar enough with them, but there’s no harm in asking!

I’m also willing to write for general concepts like “Vampire x Reader” or “Serial Killer x Reader”. You must be able to describe the concept character (the vampire or the serial killer in the examples I gave) and possibly send image references.

Price:

I’m very uncomfortable with the idea of pricing my work, so for now at least, I’m going to go with a sort of “choose your own price” system. Once you read your commission, you can look over my Amazon wishlist and choose an item to buy for me. In case anyone doesn’t know how Amazon wishlists work, when you buy an item directly from my wishlist, Amazon sends it to my address. You don’t have to mail it to me or know my address.

I have a very wide range of items on there, in terms of prices. There are lots of things on there under $10. You can choose what to buy based on how much you enjoyed your commission. And no, I won’t be upset or offended if you pick the cheapest item on the list. 😄 There are some more pricey items on there because this is my general wishlist that I show to family and friends around Christmas/birthdays. Feel free to ignore them.

How To Commission Me:

Here’s how the process will work.

Step 1: Directly message me telling me about your commission. Describe what you want, what characters you want to be featured, any plot/concept details you feel are important, a basic idea of what kinks you would want included, etc.

Step 2: I’ll reply letting you know if I can do your commission. From there we will discuss it further and iron out all the details. You can be more specific about the kind of smut you want (if you want smut), things you want me to avoid, things you want me to include no matter what, all the nitty gritty details. I’ll also give you an idea of how long it will take me to do your commission.

Step 3: I write your commission and post it on my tumblr (and maybe ao3). I can tag you if you like, or you can remain anonymous and I’ll send you a message when it’s posted.

Step 4: After reading your commission (and only after), you look over my Amazon wishlist and buy whichever item you choose for me. Send me a message letting me know you bought something and I’ll confirm that it was purchased (Amazon will display it on the list as a purchased item). I’ll expect you to purchase something within one week of me posting the commission. Unless you have a great explanation, I will be unhappy if you take longer than that.

Why do I want you to wait until you’ve read your commission to buy an item? Because my life tends to get hectic at the strangest times, and anything could go wrong and keep me from writing it. I don’t want to feel stressed and pressured because you already paid me. Also, I want you to be satisfied and to pick an item based on how well I did. Knowing that you can pick the price will motivate me to do my best!

Even if you don’t want to commission me, I would greatly appreciate any reblogs/signal boosts! Thanks!

#Gojo x reader #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #league of villains x reader #x reader #Jjk smut #league of villains smut #fanfiction commissions

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danthediamondminecart · 3 months ago

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Hi! Back for another batch of questions!

1. In your RBB Superheroes AU, will there be a hero who will accidentally get their identity revealed?

2. If you can write an RBB Fanfic about a certain fandom (Aside Madoka Magica, Life SMP, and Pokemon) What will it be about and what will be the title?

3. Do you think there should be more RBB fanfics on Ao3?

4. How did the hosts found the sword in the first place?

5. What are the hosts reactions when they start having powers due to their swords?

6. I remember seeing a post on twitter from your account, that when Russo found his sword his hair changed to blue. Does that work for the other two hosts aswell?

7. What is the most hilarious thing that the hosts did when they start using their powers?

8. Is Russo overwhelmed by the amount of Truths he just discovered from people.

9. Do Angels exsist on Robloxia? If so do they have fluffy wings? :D Sorry, I'm in love with angels.

10. What is the status relationship between Angels and Demons In your AU?

That's all for now!

Sorry these took a while to get to! You got me thinking about pre-host hosts again, so thanks for that /gen

Alright, as always, answers under the cut!

Q1) None of the main heroes (that being Kreek, Devoun, Ashley, Leah, Denis and Calixo), but in my head, one of the side characters will have their identity revealed before the ‘main story’ starts, kicking off Calixo’s recruitment.

Q2) I mean…you didn’t mention The Magnus Archives in your list. So I’m going to answer with that because I’m very normal about my TMA/RBB au. For concepts that I’ve barely developed, probably The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals or Detroit: Become Human would be fun.)

Q3) YES. Please, we need more of us. I beg. Just be normal about tagging though, please.

Q4) The hosts were originally in a band, and one day, they were looking for a new concert location after losing access to their old one. Russo found a run-down version of the S2 lobby, decided to explore, and things went downhill from there.

Q5) Lots of confusion and concern, as well as being quite put out by the new abilities (Russo especially.) Luckily Mr B was there to help them get used to it, lol

Q6) Yep! In fact, here are their ‘pre-host’ designs:

Apparently, these designs creeped people out, because they look so normal. I guess it’s like…Not-Them vibes?

Sabrina originally had black hair, and DJ dark brown. They were all relatively normal looking people before the whole ‘gaining powers’ thing happened. (Though I think DJ and Sabrina are the type of people to have dyed their hair beforehand anyway. They just don’t get a choice anymore.)

Q7) DJ ran into a wall. Multiple times. It took him a long time to get used to sprinting at supersonic speeds. Russo kept accidentally mind reading his friends, which yknow, he didn’t really want to do. It did make for a lot of good jokes though. Sabrina didn’t really have anything ‘funny’ happen, aside from like, no longer being able to get a blood test. Healing didn’t do too much to affect her aside from removing her ability to feel pain and making her very lethargic at first.

Q8) Yes, perhaps even to a painful degree. Suddenly having so much information thrust on him at once was really overwhelming, and I like to believe he gets chronic migraines about it. He’s gotten used to it though, by virtue of ignoring half the things that appear in his head.

Q9) Yes, but I don’t have any specifically noted. Pink, as I’ve mentioned, is closer to a ghost in my headcanons, though I call him an angel because it’s easier, so him, I guess.

Q10) Devils and Angels have their typical rivalry, but Demons…don’t really care. Pink and Tanqr’s antagonistic relationship is not because they’re an angel and a devil, it’s because they’re both annoyed by / scared of each other.

#yandan answers #yandan rambles #rb battles #roblox battles #rbbblr #roblox #dj Monopoli #SabrinaBrite #RussoTalks #RussoPlays #rb battles superhero au #yandan draws

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random-fandom-chaos · 8 months ago

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“Burning worlds fall apart”

A fanfic that me and @crumpet-doodles haven’t come up with a full AU name yet (I think I will check later)

[this was inspired by ‘The ghost of Chicago’ By Noah (the song)] Credit: @crumpet-doodles

Parings: DCA x Reader

[NOTE/ Reader is Gender neutral]

Chapter 1 out of many to come! The title of each chapter is there above! The series will be posted on tumblr and I will try too put all the chapters in one post The next chapter is Y/N’s POV. And this is during the Fire at the pizzaplex and Sun and Moon share a body (not for long!~ at least till the end you’ll see!)

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The Animatronic looked around in a panic, not knowing what to do. His world was falling apart, Moon was directing him in the minds ape they shared. But eventually they both stopped in trying to find a way to leave the raging fire in the pizzaplex, surrounding them…They both thought of one thing…That was Y/N….Their Starshine, Co-worker…best friend…Maybe more…but they never were able to tell them, right?…Moon sighed and spoke In their mind scape

Moon: “Well…Sunny, if this is it. I wanted to let you know. That I’ve always loved you, As a friend….I’m scared to sun…”

Sun: “M-Moon! No don’t say that! What if we can escap-“

Moon cut him off

Moon: “Sun!”

Moon shouted in their mind scape

Moon: “Look around! We are stuck! We can’t do anything about it! I-I’m scared honestly….this is probably the last of us…but..we have each other…And we had Y/N in our lives.”

He tried comforting Sun, but failed. As Sun was worrying now about Y/N the person on his mind right now.

Sun: “Y/N! Oh my god- nonononononononono- this can’t be happening- what about them?! What would they think?! We aren’t going to be here anymore…”

Sun said, almost crying…as he felt the warmth of the fire burn his overheated metal body…Sun cried softly, But nodded

Sun: “Moon, I love you too…Friend.”

With that, they shut off. The fire burning their body…

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Yes this is short I know- But anyways! This was a bit angsty don’t worry! It will end happy, not even my heart could take so much sadness-

@crumpet-doodles again I tag you so you can read!!

Time started: 10:05pm

Time ended: 10:47pm

#hi :) pls notice me :)#sun x y/n #moon x y/n #dca x y/n

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monikafilefan · 8 months ago

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20 Questions for Fanfic Writers

Tagged by @slippinmickeys <3

1. How many works do you have on A03?

75 (maybe one day I’ll reach 100?)

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

589,435

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Basically just txf fandom but I have dabbled in GoT, The Fall, and Sex Ed.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Five Years and a Lifetime

Only One Choice

All Eyes Lead to the Truth co-written

Together

Language of Love: Prompts of Angst and Romance

5. Do you respond to comments?

I absolutely do, just not every one of them. Unfortunately A03 counts author responses as comments and that bugs me, but I wholly appreciate any and all feedback!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh damn. Probably a chapter in my prompts collection called That Night in 2014 when Scully left, and one called Bone Deep set post Tithonus are angsty enough. I love writing angst, but prefer to leave my fic on less of a dreary note.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ha it turns out I write a lot of fic with happier endings, but I guess Brother Bill ended very happily considering it was during the cancer arc. There’s plenty more I could’ve chosen though.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I know of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what?

Yes, I mix it up. Lots of soft, sensual sex, but also some downright dirty smut too. Depends on the tone of the story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I wrote one where Mulder and Scully go see Jean Milburn from Sex Education and have a therapy session. Coming Undone. It’s ridiculous and funny and was way too fun to write haha!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of but I hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes but I can’t remember which one 🫣

13. Have you ever co-written before?

YES many times and I love it. I’ve written with several amazing writers @cultureisdarkbeer @admiralty-xfd @fridaysat9 @gaycrouton @slippinmickeys one several different fics.

14. What’s your all time fave ship?

MSR ofc! I do also love Jamie/Claire and Stella/Reed.

15. What WIP you want to finish?

I have this Unruhe fic that isn’t even that long but I cannot seem to fucking finish it for the life of me. I will eventually though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Details? Creating a scene and capturing the characters as close to THEM as I possibly can comes easier to me than other things.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably dialogue and writing longer novel length fics.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I want to dive into the Outlander fandom very badly but I’m too scared to try Gaelic/accents and be happy with the outcome. Maybe one day.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

X-Files! I was just a wee 15yr old on my dialup desktop trying to write a post FTF fic on the original XF storyboards. I never did finish it past the second chapter.

20. Fave fics you’ve written?

I have a few I really love, but I am kind of hard on myself as a writer. I enjoy writing but can’t seem to reread my own stuff and come away beaming about it. The ones off the top of my head I’m proud and have not mentioned above of are A Life to Remember - an AU were Mulder and Scully are doctors and meet under interesting circumstances. Lots of UST, angst and family fluff as they flashback to their past on how they met.The Things They Say in the Dark is another one I love. It has angst, lots of hurt/comfort (not to mention Scully washing Mulder’s hair post Amor Fati) and serious yearning! Honestly love these two so feel free to check them out if you haven’t, I’d be blessed if you loved them too!

Tagging @today-in-fic and anyone else who wants to join in. This was fun!

#txf fic #msr #fanfic #monikafilefan

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rosesradio · 9 months ago

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fanfic ask game

i saw this ask game i wasn’t tagged in so let’s do it 🤠 & i’ll tag whoever wants to do it as well

1. how many works do you have on Ao3?

27 :-)

2. what's your total Ao3 word count?

466,409 (oh cool i’ll most likely hit 500k by the end of the year 💪)

3. what fandoms do you write for?

currently pjo & once in a blue moon hsmtmts, but i have written for like 10-12 different fandoms in my life

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ceaseless eve 🌙 (a leo, nico, & piper quest + valdangelo)

camp triple pine 🌲 (a lawrusso summer camp au with fwb 👀)

talk to me, deep in the night (& i’d tell you something i never thought i’d admit) 🏕️ (a surprisingly non-smutty first caswen fic in which ricky talks with ej about how he works too hard, written in s3 era)

Cobra Kai/Karate Kid one shots 🥋 (fluff, humor, angst, smut…what it says on the tin 🤠)

he’s only here for one thing, but (so am i) 🔥 (valdangelo college au smut + camboy nico 👀)

(because i can’t tell a lie, i did skip over one or two stranger things fics on this list. i have complex feelings about them & keeping them up due to the controversy, but also abandoning them or deleting them…i’m sentimental, and i procrastinate lol. i’m glad a higher volume of people enjoyed them by nature of it being a more popular fandom, but i also feel like the kudos aren’t as genuine or earned as they are for my longfics in less popular fandoms for that reason. at least To Me. i hope that makes sense ��)

5. do you respond to comments?

i try to reply to every comment around the first week of posting something (because by then it’s an “old work” and it’s “weird” to comment on it, but that’s another post 😐). i still haven’t replied to the last of the ceaseless eve comments & i feel terrible, the sentimentality of it all overwhelms me but know i appreciate it 😭 i wish there was like a code word though that people could comment that lets you know if they want you to respond or not, because it’s hard to know if people want an author response or if it’ll scare them off yk

6. Which of your fics has the angstiest ending?

i don’t do a lot of angst, but when i do, i do (meaning i lay it on too melodramatically thick lmao) but i thought i’d give a list of some of my angstiest/darkest fics 🤠

the moonlace & the sunflower 🌻 (in which grover dies protecting a demigod, so the empathy link causes percy to pass away as well)

games long lost 🌳 (in which luke must drink annabeth’s blood for kronos’s reformation, it covers the dark lukabeth of it all & there’s some death)

the smallest casualty ♟️ (in which it’s slowly revealed over the course of a luke & annabeth chess game that the gods lost the war, and percy & friends have been subjected to dark magic experiments to make them compliant to luke’s fantasy)

rewired 🤖 (okay. i usually try to be humble or self deprecating or whatever but this 1400 word fic is an actual fucking masterpiece to me idc. it just came out of me and makes me physically nauseous to this day. showing this to my hypothetical therapist etc etc. oh wait what’s it about lmao—the concept of daniel rewiring his brain & morals to fit into silver’s desires. ft that sick sick silverusso dynamic)

7. Which of your fics has the happiest ending?

i have a variety of fluffy fics, but i’d have to say my happiest most sugar coated ending is—

who said anybody would? (a ej/gina/ricky road trip fic that literally ends with an ot3 picnic scene 😭 it’s just too much 🫶)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i’ve gotten unwarranted criticism (i like to ask for constructive crit comments at the end if it’s like a longfic) that’s been surprisingly rude…i won’t say which fic but someone got so mad at one of my chapters they left a lengthy mocking crit comment and then stopped reading 😭 but that’s their prerogative, i hope they found something they enjoyed afterwards. other than that, surprisingly considering some of the controversial dark fics i’ve written…no sign of flames, so thanks! 😅

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i have four different smut fics (hopefully a fifth if i can ever finish it up)…i fear they’re repetitive but also not really, they cover different fandoms and explore different kinks. i’m not really sure what to say about them, hopefully people find them hot ! or whatever !

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i’m not a fan of crossovers currently, but my longest fic i wrote when i was 15 (it’s 97k i’m beating it someday 😭) was a crossover between sanders sides, voltron, miraculous ladybug, and gravity falls (doesn’t that feel like a kick in the gut lmao—did i mention i was 15? 😅)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of 👁️👁️

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that i know of 👁️👁️

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i tried, myself and another author had a shared Google doc & everything…but we both just didn’t commit. i don’t think i’d work well with another writer…i don’t mind bouncing ideas around with a beta reader/editor (like @heavens-vault 🤠) but ultimately i’d prefer to write on my own

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

it changes—it’s currently valdangelo, but the ones I’ve written the most over the years are: prinxiety (😐), lawrusso, caswen, and valdangelo. i’m excited to explore a bunch of other ships as i continue writing as well

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oh gosh, i mean i hope i don’t have any like longfics in question…i hope i can finish + deliver on Ivory Rain, but i’m sure I’ll manage even if it takes a while. i haven’t really mentioned this a whole lot to “the public” but i have what i call a “scrap fic” i’m working on, with a bunch of like 800 word chapters i just kinda bounce around when i have time. the concept is really exciting but the execution still needs work, so i’m kinda seeing how that’s gonna play out, it might not be posted. i hope it will though !

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think i’m pretty good at characterization, good romantic moments with good buildup, and humor :-)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

action scenes i hate you so much 😭 why do i insist on writing pjo fics when i can hardly write a fight scene

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i should do it more, i hate that i don’t, especially considering nico being Italian and leo’s native language being Spanish. but I’ve used & been disappointed by Google translate too many times…perhaps I’ll find another way to translate to include that for more character accuracy

19. First fandom you wrote for?

actually i think percy jackson, i’ve come full circle. the first fic i posted was sanders sides, but i remember when i was probably nine or so i wrote with pencil and paper and stapled a book together with a hand drawn cover 😭 it was about a son of Apollo, a satyr, and a daughter of Demeter on a quest…so really, richard took some creative liberties from my hand written fanfic i think 👀

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

like the ships, it changes—I love all my fics, it’s hard to explain how there’s little fractures of me at different points in my life at any given time in my works. no amount of over-explaining could make anyone understand how i express myself through my character’s emotions and desires and fears and journeys.

at the moment, my favorite fic is CE. it just got completed, myself and others are excited for the sequel. i think all my pjo works in particular are pretty good, and of course i tend to shy away from my older works because my writing…probably wasn’t as good. but that just means I’ve improved, so that’s good.

that’s all the questions, but this was fun ! :-)

#fanfic #ask game #rose’s asks #(of sorts)#pjo #hsmtmts #valdangelo #eh im not gonna tag all tha fandom stuff we’ll be here all day

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dthmet · 1 year ago

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It came to me in a dream. /j

I’m only posting this because I need somewhere to put my shenanigans. (And also so my next post makes more sense but shhhhhh secret)

Basically, me and my friends all started playing this Burger game on roblox together in Tf2 cos and it was fun as FUCK

I jokingly said “what if I made a Burger King AU were they all work at burger king” I was gnna write a fanfic (think I still might) about them all instead of being mercenaries, they are burger king employees, and the thought hasn’t left me SINCE.

So, here are some little ideas I thought would be funny to put down somewhere other than my notes app:

Scout chasing Spy around the kitchen areas with a tray, trying to hit him with it. (Actually happened in game, it was funny as fuck)

Medic being weirdly protective over his “area” of the staff room, were he sits and experiments on the food. (Wait, where did he find all of those medical instruments??? And is that… a mutated burger???)

Spy wearing suits or turtlenecks under his uniform, he says it’s because at least SOMEONE has to look presentable in the establishment. (Engie then reminds him he’s working at a Burger King, not a 5 star restaurant. Spy then spends the rest of the work day moping around and mumbling about how “he could’ve done better than this”)

Engineer surprisingly being a clean freak and gets heavily offended when Sniper forgets to wash his hands in the employee bathroom. (After that Engie refused to let Sniper be anywhere near the customers or kitchen until Engie made sure Sniper’s hands were 100% clean.)

Pyro has almost burnt down the whole building MULTIPLE times. Any kind of food you get from them is always somewhat burnt, or has some unwanted candy that pyro got from god knows where lodged into it.

Heavy has scared off so many rude customers, whenever somebody has an issue with an entitled customer who’s just there to complain and scream for their manager, they always call Heavy in to stare them down and calmly (yet intimidatingly) explain that they need to leave— or whatever applies to the situation.

Demo has shown up drunk to work so many times, it’s a miracle he hasn’t been fired yet. But also occasionally if a rude customer tries bothering him, he’ll cuss them out with very slurred Scottish slang/insults— only reason he hasn’t been fired for that yet is because no one can even understand what he said. (“Awa’ an’ bile yer heid! Ye bawbag!”)

Solider is a hit with the middle aged men, he often yells about america and waves the American flag around the building, once Solider had gotten ahold of the speakers in the Burger King and started blasting the American anthem on LOOP. (He was not allowed to uses the speakers again after that.

Sniper is absolutely horrible with the customers, he’s always either saying too much or too little (and usually when he is saying too much it’s because he started panicking, and then told some customer all about how Australia is like, definitely over sharing about his own personal life in Australia). He ends up accidentally putting the customers off of their food by sharing some gross detail about the bugs or animals there, he then sits outside at the back and cringes over how stupid that was of him.

I May return soon with more Burger King AU info… shhhhh

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #burger king #Burger King AU #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 heavy #tf2 demoman #this is so stupid #tf2 au

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shads-shipposts · 6 months ago

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"Anachronism" Prologue Rough Draft +LORE✨

Remember how I mentioned that the chapters prior to this would only leave you more confused as to wtf was going on? Well, the prologue is now finished and is being posted.

The background of Anachronism is this: back in 2015 I attempted to rewrite a 2014 RP that included the Tintin sailors (which is my first fanfic ever). True Colors was the name. It was never finished, instead transitioning halfway through into an original fic where the sailors got new names/designs/backstories as they were changed into ocs. The Karaboudjan would become the Caroline, but Scarlett was already a self-insert so her initial character remains (though she's changed quite a bit). Both the original fics and the 2015 are scrubbed from the internet, though I do believe one of you followers actually read that 2014 one when it was on Deviant Art. I am so sorry you had to witness that 😬.

Jump to late 2017-early 2018, the first hints of Anachronism were forming. It wouldn't be until 2019-2020 New Years that I started it in earnest. The story follows myself (yes, I get "isekai'd") as I end up in the same timeline as that 2015 fic. Originally it was the 2014 fic but I really don't want to deal with certain elements of that mess. Anyway, that Anachronism kinda started collecting dust as my Bad Batch hyperfixation hit and Adventures!AU was born. That series takes place after Anachronism, but Anachronism was never posted.

Well, 4+ years, three and a half books, and 500k+ words later I am finally starting to post snippets to curse the world lol. Schedule-wise, Anachronism won't premiere in full until 2029 most likely, as Adventures!AU is still my main project. But I miss the Karaboudjan crew, and my hyperfixation is strong for them rn so I'm posting and working on chapters.

All that to say buckle up, this fic gets wild. Magic elements are minimal in this fic, but they still be there.

Enjoy! :D Feedback is most welcome, I'm still figuring out the characterizations for the fellas as it's been a while since I really wrote heavily with them (Bad Batch has claimed most of my time).

CW: Mild horror elements

1872 words

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“Scared, Allan?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself here after he closed his eyes. It’d been months since the incident that gave rise to the event playing over and over again in his dreams, but time hadn’t dulled any of his emotions concerning the event.

“I must say, your fear scent is… unique. Fishy and tart.”

Confusion, horror, shock, disbelief.

“Don’t worry your little head there. I respect you and, strange as it may seem, I do find the need to fear you.”

Yes, fear there too.

“Funny ain’t it?”

And who wouldn’t be scared?

“An Alphian fearin’ a human.”

When they were faced with an alien of unknown magical abilities?

“Don’t see that every day.”

The scene wobbled and fizzled at the edges, like staring at a reflection on the surface of a stormy sea. The secrets surrounding the scene trapped deep in its depths, unreachable even if one tried their hardest to grasp the answers.

Allan Thompson walked through the scene, removed from his own actions as if he were just on autopilot. He couldn’t change the scene, no more than someone watching a reel on a screen.

He sat at the table, across from the half-human, half animal woman that watched him like a hawk. Dark stripes cut through her skin like thick shadows across a moonlit patch in the woods, a black and white tail flicked behind her, and piercing eyes the color of glaciers scanned him inside and out. She was a head shorter than him, yet power radiated off her like heat from an open flame.

His voice reached his ears, muted and distant.

His own and yet… not, in a way.

“Kid… I’m sorry about Turtle.”

The alien looked up at him, the furry ears on the sides of her head flattened against ginger hair.

“Thanks, man.”

Those cat-like eyes shifted to the side, as if searching for any other threats.

He knew it was a dream. Knew what was about to happen.

It did not ease the churning of his stomach.

“Actually,” she continued, mouth moving but voice coming from the very walls surrounding them. “I kinda wanted to ask you about something related to that.”

Allan knew what was coming. Knew what she was going to ask.

Knew how badly it would go, how swiftly the scene would turn dangerous.

But he was helpless to do anything but follow the script. Follow the events as they unfolded.

Eyes on her hands, waiting to see those thorn sharp claws, Allan again heard his voice from far away.

“Aye?”

He wished he could change course. Wished he could prevent what came next. Perhaps, if he could, then things would be different.

But no.

“Let me go after that short slaver with the dark brown hair. I want his head for orderin’ me to kill Turtle.”

There it was. The request that shattered everything. The request that would leave Allan with gaps in his memory that no amount of pondering or searching could ever fix.

He felt the shock course through his body, felt his spine stiffen and his heart skip a beat.

“I’m sorry…” he heard himself say. “But I can’t allow that.”

Ears shot up, a tail bristled, sharp teeth bared, and anger blazed in those icy eyes.

“What?”

If only he could alter his words. Explain more, explain better.

Save himself.

If only.

“I can’t allow you to kill him.”

He had dreams. He had nightmares.

This hell was something else entirely.

Pupils narrowed to slits across from him, jagged scars streaking down the table as wicked claws dug into the old wood.

“Is that your final answer?”

There was red now, deep in those eyes.

He could only watch, silently scream in his head as he fought with all his might to change the memory.

“Aye, I refuse to let you go after him.”

Futile. The scene would play out as it had many nights before this one.

The woman stood, ears low and tail lashing.

“Whose side are you on, Allan? Huh? The slavers?” A snarl curled her lip, the temperature around them plummeting as ice snaked out from her hands across the table. “How disappointin’.”

The edges of the scene corrupted, bleeding red and black.

He wanted to scream. Wanted to run. Wanted to hide.

Hide from the devastation bearing down on him like a hurricane at sea.

But there was no refuge. No escape.

“There will be another time to kill him.”

He had to witness the event that would alter his fate.

Words came faster now, a distorted echo to them that sent chills down his spine.

“But I heard the other slavers talkin’! He’s goin’ on patrol tonight! I can’t pass up this opportunity to claim revenge for what he did.”

“Look, kid. I said no, and that’s final.”

“Nobody’s gonna stand in my way. Not even you. Stand down now, Allan. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He got up.

Walked over.

“I told you no, kid! That’s an order!”

“Give it up, Allan. I’m doin’ this my way. I’m killin’ him tonight and you can’t stop me. Don’t even try to.”

He got close.

Too close.

It was over fast. She winded him with a headbutt, driving him back into the wall hard enough to knock the breath from him. He didn’t even have a chance to rise to his feet, weight pinning him to the floor. A rag clamped over his mouth and nose, drowning the world in a sickly-sweet haze.

Darkness followed swiftly after, a growl echoing in his ears.

“You brought this on yourself. Sweet dreams.”

And those were the last words he ever heard from Scarlett Hyde.

Allan sat up in his bed with a gasp, cold sweat pouring down his face as he fought for breath.

Was that her now, hiding in the dark corner?

He flicked on the light, fingers struggling to grasp the knob.

Nothing, just his trenchcoat.

It was too hot. Too stifling.

Air.

He needed air!

Staggering to the porthole, he yanked it open and welcomed the sharp chill that rushed in. Allan leaned against the wall, eyes closed as he fought to catch his breath and sooth his racing heart.

After that fight, any and all memory of the Alphian ceased. He couldn’t even recall what happened once he woke up. Because they sure as hell didn’t go from being overrun by slavers to being back at their home port without any sign there was even a hostile force occupying the ship.

Only one man had memories of Scarlett that went past Allan’s; Tom.

His friend and trusty right-hand man. The closest person to Scarlett on the ship prior to her mysterious disappearance.

Allan hoped he could have shed some light on Scarlett. Maybe Scarlett somehow drove off all the slavers after knocking Allan out, accessing some type of beast mode or something. She was an alien, and could shapeshift, so it wasn’t entirely implausible.

But no.

Tom’s last memory of her was Scarlett heading off the ship into the woods. Tom had gone after her, only to find himself face to face with the same slaver Scarlett was after. The slaver attacked him, but Scarlett showed up in some animal form and attacked the slaver. She won the fight but was stabbed in the process. Tom tried dragging her back to the ship after she shifted back to that half-human form, but then his memory too went dark.

That was it. The trail ended. Went cold. With no hope of recovering the fractal memories.

Maybe Scarlett was around longer, and had some alien way of wiping their memories. Why, then, did he have any memory of her at all? If she truly aimed to wipe all memory of her existence, he should have forgotten her in totality.

Instead he was left with only partial memories and no explanation that could even remotely make sense of the event.

Every port they stopped at, every contact he knew, he asked. When Scarlett Hyde rang no bells, he tried the false name she gave at first; Ice Shadow. Still nothing.

He tried her description, her species, her family, everything.

Nothing.

As if neither she nor her species even existed in the first place.

A knock sounded on his door, and Allan turned away from the window to stare at the clock by his bed.

05:00 am.

His port watch wasn’t due for another few hours, so it couldn’t have been someone calling him for that.

“Al?”

Tom. What was he doing up this early?

Passing through his dayroom, Allan opened the door and found Tom looking almost as disheveled as himself. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Tom rubbed his arm. “It… happened again.”

Allan’s eyes widened. “Scarlett.”

Tom nodded.

Allan stood to the side to let him in. “You too, huh?”

Tom straightened, looking slightly more alert as he sat on the couch in Allan’s dayroom. “Same dream?”

“What other dream would it be?” Allan growled.

Tom wasn’t put off by his tone, but then again he never was. “What are the odds, huh?” he said in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, a weak smile accompanying the joke.

Allan wasn’t amused. “Real funny.” He leaned on the table, pushing his hair back. “This is the fifth time in two weeks,” he growled. “I do not need this. We got that proud peacock prancin’ ‘round like he owns the damn ship, orderin’ us to and fro like damn dogs. I don’t need this headache on top of it.”

“At least the captain ain’t givin’ us any issues.”

“Don’t think that old man would notice if I scuttled the damn ship,” Allan grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Probably not.” Tom tilted his head. “Don’t think the dreams mean anythin’, do ya?”

“Concurrent dreams about an alien that we both know had the power to alter dreams?” Allan said. “It’s fishy.”

“Think she’s comin’ back?”

Allan shrugged tiredly. “Hell, Tom, I don’t know.” He glared in the direction of the door. “At least Sakharine’s finally tracked down the second ship. Then we can be back at sea, and I’ll have other things to keep my mind on.”

“Yeah, can’t wait to have that guy off.” Tom shuddered. “Gives me the creeps.”

“Feelin’s mutual.” Allan stretched. “Guess I may as well get coffee, not like I’m gettin’ any more shuteye today. Want some?”

Tom nodded, stretching too. “Won’t say no.” He shuddered. “Anythin’ to keep awake after that nightmare.”

Allan understood his hesitation with going back to sleep. Tom’s dream was far worse than his, with the man being hunted down in dark woods by a slaver bent on murder. Scarlett’s animal form wasn’t exactly comforting either, Tom describing it as a large tiger-looking beast with saber teeth that was a third again the size of a normal tiger.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute. Maybe the cooks have somethin’ already.”

Tom nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”

As Tom left, and Allan headed back to his room, the first mate mumbled under his breath.

“I really hope it was just coincidence.” He punched the door open. “Because I cannot deal with anything else.”

#karaboudjan #tintin 2011 #allan thompson #tom karaboudjan #anachronism fic #my writing

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symbiotic-slime · 5 months ago

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that's a lot, but still: for the fanfic ask game: ❤, 💥, ⏰️ , 👓 , 🦋 , 🦈, 💭, 🧪, 🔥, 💘,💡, 🔎, 🎨 .

SORRY, THAT'S A LOT!!! 😭

hi I’m so so sorry it took me a bit to get around to this 😭 also never apologize for sending too many, I am professional yapper and will take every opportunity to talk about my fics :D

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

oooo this is tough! I have to go with this line from the fic I’m working on right now, which kinda goes too hard for a fanfiction that involves a man falling in love with mold

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Eddie Brock being the King in Black. I know there’s a lot of people who think it’s cool and like it, but to me it just feels out of place for him. like he should just be A Guy™️, not like the commander of all symbiotes and able to move through time or whatever the hell is going on right now in the current run.

⏰️ Do you like to post fics on a schedule or at random?

they’re definitely at random! it’s just whenever I get bursts of inspiration, I’m trying to be more regular (especially with VenomFest— I’m trying to keep up with it being weekly) but yeah, there’s no schedule 😅

👓 What helps you focus when you write?

this is gonna make me sound like an iPad baby but I love having videos I’ve already seen on in the background while I write! if Coffeezilla isn’t explaining a scam on my tv while I write on my phone/laptop than I am operating at like 50% efficiency 💀 It’s so bad 😭

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

I absolutely love writing the Venom Symbiote!! they’re such a goober it makes them so enjoyable to write! also it’s so fun to write about human things from the perspective of a guy who’s confused by them all the time.

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

Don’t know if he’s actually tough to write but part of the reason I haven’t written any symbiOT3 fics is because I’m scared of fucking up Flash 😭 I get like that with new characters, I get so petrified of writing them even though I find when i actually do write them it’s not as bad as I think. like it took me a while to build up to writing comics!Eddie, even though he’s not that hard to write (imo) and very fun to write!

💭 What inspires you and your writing?

LGBT delusions /j

my genuine answer is honestly not far off from that though— Venom and Eddie just exist in my brain all the time and writing about them helps me from just rotating them in my brain all day.

🧪 Do you research for your fics?

a bit? it depends on what I’m writing because most of it isn’t stuff that requires research, but if I ever get around to my Malevolent/Venom crossover I’m going to have to figure out how investigations actually work.

🔥 Have you included any sexy scenes in your fics? If yes, do you find them easy or difficult to write?

I have written them and I find them lowkey difficult to write 😭 I love writing them— all the ones I have published right now are x reader fics but the TMA au does get weirdly horny. listen okay im not crazy the corruption draws on sexual horror so it’s narratively compelling for Eddie to be horny for mold— [I am dragged out of the room by armed security guards]

💘 Is it easier to write angst or fluff?

fluff!! I find it hard to write angst— I just want all of them to be happy and gay and live happily ever after

💡How many WIPs do you currently have?

Currently I have two WIPs! I’ve got my Magnus archives AU, which has three WIP chapters, and I started writing a Eddie/Venom/Reader smut fic >:3

🔎 Does anyone beta read or edit your fics?

some of my irl friends beta read and edit my fics!! @fist-of-vengeance and @cyborg-empress are what keeps me from publishing fics with typos and just overall issues, I cannot thank them enough!!

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

OUGH there’s too many,,, I’ll try to narrow it down to just three of my favourites:

good old fashioned symbrock smut from Symby’s perspective:

symbiOT3 fic where Flash and Eddie are neighbours! it’s so adorable, I cannot wait for the next chapter:

and a fic where Venom is the monster under kid!Eddie’s bed! kinda heavy (it deals with Eddie being abused), but it’s so heartwarming to see kid!Eddie and Venom becoming friends and Venom protecting Eddie:

#thank you so much for the ask!!!!#sorry again for taking a while to answer this I genuinely don’t have an explanation as for why 😭#ask game #fanfic ask game

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theweirderstuffblogdontlook · 2 years ago

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Made a short fanfic for my Bob Velseb Spooky Month Inner Demon Possession au

It’s a short one, but ya should see some of my earlier posts for context of the au first. I’ll put it under the readmore.

This was it.

She had convinced him to explore an empty house to steal a thing or two, and when his back was turned, she shot him in the back point blank with the shotgun whoever owned the house had kept in a cabinet beside the front door.

And the big guy went down hard, as his severed spine literally lost the ability to control his legs all at once.

She cautiously moved around to his front, and crouched in front of him. Where prodded his head with the butt of the shotgun.

Lifting his face up to see if he was still conscious or not, and looked like he was, as his eyes opened bleerily, and pupils trained on her face.

"Time you figured out when you were beat Bob."

She leaned her head down a bit, to be more in Bobs field of vision. And said coldly and clearly,

" You… are a paraplegic. Your chasing people's days are over. And from the look of that wound, pretty soon your life is gonna be too. So I'm giving you this one last chance….. Deactivate the amulets. Let me go. Save me the effort of seeing if killing you is enough to turn them off automatically."

His frown turns into a slight smile, and he replies.

"You still don't get it peppermint."

With unexpected speed and strength, he grabs the shotgun from his forehead, and wrenches it from her grip. Startling her into scampering backwards out of his reach.

He then pops it open, spent red shotgun shell falling out. And keeping it open, he stood it on the ground in front of him, and used it like a cane to pull himself up a bit.

It being clear that she had been correct about him not being able to use his legs with his wound. But he wasn't trying to stand.

Putting his considerable weight on the hinge, the shotgun soon snaps in half between the barrel and the hilt. And he slumps back to the ground.

Manic gaze still fixed on her, as he raises a hand and slams it down, digging his fingernails into the carpet, and dragging himself towards her, then again with the other arm, and he shouts

"I Feel EVERYTHING!"

His tone sounding desperate, but with still a seemingly unearned, deranged confidence. Which only added to the terrifying sight of this big man fighting through what should have been a mortal wound just to get to her.

Terrified, she turns and runs. Only to find that she's appeared to have trapped herself, as the adjacent room has no other exit. While Bob drags himself into view in the doorway after her, leaving a red snail trail of blood behind him.

Backed against the wall, her only chance is to get around him and back out the doorway without getting caught.

Bob continuing his thought with a low sultry tone as he crawls towards her.

"I can feel how much you enjoy listening to your music."

Thump, draaaagg….

"I can feel how big and soft you think I am when I hold you gently."

Thump, draaaagg….

"I can feel how scared you still are all those times you try to boss me around."

Oh god… she presses a hand over her mouth and squeezes herself more against the wall behind her as the horror of the situation washes over her. A few events over her duration of having been held captive clicking into place. He wasn’t just being intuitive, the amulets had been letting him read her emotions.

"And I can feel all the times you wanted me, and never admitted to it. Thinking I couldn't tell."

Thump, draaaagg….

"But you can't hide from me… I feel all of it."

She gets out a few timid words of,

"Bob… you gotta take out the amulet, it's messing with your head…"

But he takes offense to that, shouting back

"THIS IS THE SANEST I'VE BEEN IN YEARS!

She tries to run past him to the doorway, but he snaps around and grabs her by the ankle, making her fall to the ground with a sharp thump that clicked her teeth. Panic climbing higher as she feels Bob's hand merge with her ankle, and start to drag her back towards Bob.

She turns enough to see him shout through his manic drooling, and yet adoring grin,

"I ain't EVER letting you go!"

She kicks him in the face once, then again, but he barely seems to care, and with another scoot forward, he's able to trap her legs under his bulk. And he continues to scoot forward from there, getting closer to being face to face.

And despite her continuing to struggle he says with a sultry gentle tone, looking at her fondly through half lidded eyes.

"Getting rid of you sweet thing, would be like getting rid of some of my favorite parts of myself. You aren't going anywhere."

She gets absorbed into his body with a startled squeak. And Bob let's out a breath, finally letting his exhaustion show. Rolling over onto his back, he lays there spread eagle for a moment, panting heavily, and feeling the buckshot drip out of the wound on his back onto the hardwood floor as the amulets did their work healing him.

After a good 15 minutes he cranes his head up a bit, and looks at his foot, which he wiggles around a bit, before slumping his had back to the floor and closing his eyes. Only for a voice in his head to speak up.

"No fucking way."

His eyes blink open tiredly.

"So that's how you get away with it. The amulet gives you healing abilities on top of everything??"

He could feel how absolutely livid she was at only just now learning this important bit of information.

And he chuckles.

"It isn't as good as my usual one, but it'll get the job done. Should go faster now with having both pieces of them in me now too."

Ooo, that spiked her anger that she might be unwittingly helping him. He couldn't help but smirk. And she replies bitterly in his mind,

"No wonder they think you're some kind of unstoppable supernatural monster. You literally are one."

And to that he gives a big belly laugh, though it gets cut a bit short as he winced with pain. And he let out a still rather cheerful huff instead, and replied.

"Well darlin, I'm your monster now."

The real gravity of those words seeps in slowly at first, and she tries to stamp them down for more angry bravado. But after a point the hopelessness is like a rock rolling downhill.

She wants to cry, and she gets startled as she gets gently pushed out of Bobs body, resting on top of his stomach.

Bob looking at her with a more tired and even possibly a little empathetic, though still creepily adoring gaze.

He places a hand comfortingly on her back, and the floodgates of tears breaks. Starting with sniffling, but soon she's weeping into the chest of Bobs sweater. Still moist with his blood, but preferring that to having to look him in the eyes.

He brings his other arm up to hold her tenderly, and he slumps back. Closing his eyes with a contented look as she sobs into him.

#bob velseb #spooky month #au #inner demon #possession #fanfic

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year ago

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Fed - a Magnus Archives fanfic

So. This was just what it was, now. Hardly the first time in my life I’d faced challenges, gray morality, and a strange situation in which I wasn’t precisely trapped, but all my other options were worse than the one I was considering.

It was heavy. Too heavy.

“Take a moment,” said Spider Martin. “Looks like you need it.”

I eyed him. “Reading my thoughts?”

“No, your face. It’s quite expressive. Whatever you’re thinking about, it’s clearly a lot?”

I hated his blue eyes.

That wasn’t his fault. Something about him just made me remember how I had watched him die.

(Then is your Martin really your Martin?)

Yes. Shut up. I couldn’t… That was not a box we were opening this afternoon.

Spoilers for the whole show. This is post-MAG 200.

Part four of the Magnus Monsterverse AU.

AO3

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The fog took me, and as if I’d spent a thousand years there instead of my own metamorphosis, I immediately succumbed.

It wasn’t even conscious: just a completion, a sense of self and no other, an aching, longing magnificence that hurt like pure joy, flooding through me. I think I cried out. I might have come. I definitely wept.

This place… oh. Oh. I ate it up. It ate it up. We ate it up, together. There was such strange joy in me. It was such a wondrously terrible new thing. It drank it in, and I drank it in, and I may have cried out again, because this time, he answered.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.” And Martin pulled me in, shocking in his there-ness, his solidity, his presence, the very miracle of his existence.

He was the only thing that was real, and We loved it that way.

I clung to him and cried. I could not get close enough. I never could, not ever; it would never be enough, and I embraced that, painted my body, rolled my eyes back in my head to bask in its glorious void.

He breathed deeply, slowly, and his heart beat strong. “It was you,” he said. “While I was in the waves, it was you, missing you, thinking of you, grieving you… that’s what did it. That’s what powered everything.”

And suddenly, I saw.

Saw him in strange, wild waves, surfacing to stare at a gray sky that matched his eyes.

Saw that he rarely surfaced. He spent most of his time under, in the broad, booming silence, the current pulling him along, far from everyone and everything. The isolation under pressure; the magnificence of loneliness in a world with other living things—

He rejoiced in his pain, felt he deserved it—but it didn’t last.

“They died,” he whispered, and tears kissed his cheeks, so I kissed them off.

He felt them dying; felt the people—so far away their absence made him ache—winking out like lights.

Martin breathed in the water (and I did with him) and mourned and lost.

And when it happened, and all were gone, his god fed on him.

Because of me.

“It was you,” he whispered. “Missing you was… it became everything. I missed you so much that I…”

He lost himself.

I could look up at him, now, and saw him like burning mist, saw his perfect eyes with limbal rings I could tumble into and drown.

“When they found me…” He swallowed. “When Tim leaned through the door of fire that Maneula somehow got him to make and found me, I didn’t know his name. I knew his face, but it just made me cry.”

I understood that. I knew I’d cry when I met him, too. I was sure he still hadn’t forgiven me.

“When they came, I fought them. I thought that if they took me away from here, I’d lose missing you. That’s bonkers, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said.

He touched my lips. His eyes were wide. “What?”

“No,” I repeated.

He looked stunned. “You’re in my silence. You can’t speak.”

Oh. I felt what he meant; he had this weird, Lonely power, this silence he could enforce, but, I—ah. “Yes, I can.” I knew how to talk.

Martin still stared. He looked spooked. “We… we should go back.”

I’d scared him. That would not do, so I kissed him instead.

He made a sound and responded, clutching me, his blazing eyes sliding shut. Color washed his cheeks, and as it did, we became real.

The fog vanished as if eaten by summer sun. We stood together in our apartment block, in the central courtyard, under blue spring sky, in sight of all the windows.

We both breathed hard, shudders trembling through us like aftershocks.

“What did you do?” he whispered.

“I kissed you,” I said, still dazed. “Was I not supposed to?”

“You… you became the Lonely,” said Martin. “You were the Lonely. You… I don’t understand.”

Eh?

What?

Eh?

“I what?”

“Hey, kiddos,” said Mike, coming out from the same building I lived in. “We’re heading out to get a bite. Want to come?”

We had no time for this. We had to deal with what just happened. We—

Oh. Behind him came a rogue’s gallery.

That was Michael Shelley. Right behind him came Helen Richardson, scowling.

There was Arthur Nolan—an angry, angry man, made worse because there were two of him in a row. They had not bothered to be anything but identical.

Sarah Baldwin came out beside Jane Prentiss, both of them chattering away about something called Brother Love I’d never heard of.

(The Eye dropped three seasons’ worth of this bizarre forbidden-love-among-the-cloisters “reality” show into my head. Thanks. You shouldn’t have.)

(Drama! It happily tremored at me.)

I stared at the lot of them, frozen. So many of them had tried to kill me, or been part of my torment. My actions had led to their deaths, as well—and some of them, I’d never even seen in the light of day.

I made a small noise. I don’t know what it was. Some panicked thing.

“I've got you,” said Martin. “It's okay. They’re not going to hurt you.”

I couldn’t believe that.

They greeted Martin with smiles, though no touches, no personal space invasions (and I could appreciate that). Me, however… no one seemed to know what to do with. They eyed me. Jane stared. Michael tilted his head. Helen rolled her eyes.

“We going, or what?” snapped Nolan One with all the grace of a bulldozer. “I’m fuckin’ hungry,” said Nolan Two.

“I think we should initiate our new friend and make him join,” said Mike Crew.

Sarah Baldwin laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound. “He looks like a scared rabbit.”

“He’s fine,” said Martin.

Was this happening? This was happening. “You’re going?” I said to Martin.

He looked grim. “We should.”

He was trying not to be lonely. Trying so hard.

I would never get in the way of that. “I’ll go, sure,” I said, staring at Jane (whose skin boasted numerous scars, even more than my own, but no sign of worms just yet). “I, uh. I’m Jon. Hi.” So graceful. My face burned.

Jane grinned, stretching her scars. "Hi."

Helen laughed. As she did, her face shifted; she was still Helen, still herself, but she’d changed, like distortion through glass. “Hi, Jon. I’m Helen.”

Michael tilted his head further. Too far. Smiling in an utterly banal manner. "Archivist."

“I… yes. It’s weird to see you both at the same time.”

They just looked at me.

(It was thrilled. If I could have shrunk small enough to hide in Martin’s pocket, I would have, and It loved my misery.)

“Oh, I like this one,” said Michael. “You’re much less human than before.”

“Ah. Well,” I said. “That’s true, I suppose.”

“Still a prick,” said Helen.

“Hey,” I protested.

“From what I recall,” said Martin, “you were the one so obsessed with him that you wanted to keep him in your corridors until everybody else he ever knew died so you could have him all to yourself.”

And everyone turned to stare at her.

Helen’s dark cheeks blushed darker. “Well. Desperate times, and all that.”

Michael cracked up.

Crew followed, and Sarah, and soon everyone was laughing, even the Nolans—and it wasn’t a bad laugh, it really was not, but I felt no better.

“We’ve all come a long way,” said Jane.

“Archivist,” said Michael. “Come to us. Join us. Let us see your skill.”

“My what?”

“We’re, uh. We… can you guys go ahead? We’ll meet you at the curb.”

“Ooh,” said Nolan One, low. “Somebody hasn’t been told about the birds and the bees yet.”

“Be nice,” said Sarah, and swatted his arm.

Nolan Two bared his teeth at her.

“Sure,” said Crew, and gestured to them all. They all walked on, continuing their conversations or lack thereof.

Michael winked at me over his shoulder, then loudly said to Helen, “So what did that feel like, all trapped inside you?”

“Kill me now,” I muttered, covering my face.

Martin kissed my forehead. He’d lost just a shade of the color he’d had, but seemed to be holding steady. “So. Here’s how this works. We go and meet at a pre-set point in the city. Then we, uh. He gives us a list of people.”

I looked up slowly. “To what end?”

He just looked back.

“To what? To… to feed on?”

“It’s that, or we feed the Fears through ourselves—and something about us, about what we were at the ends of our worlds means that if we let them feed on us, we supercharge them. We could end it here all over again. So we don’t do that. Instead, we… Annabelle calls it ‘hummingbirds.’”

Flitting from person to person, sipping the nectar of fear. “So it’s all even less stable than Leitner said. This is horrible.”

“It’s not that bad. The people we see don’t even realize it’s happening, usually—we keep it light. Besides, we don’t do it to nice people.”

My look was dry.

“I mean it, Jon. People who hurt animals. That sort of thing.”

“A lot of those in London, are there?”

“You’d be surprised. There’s less fear in this world in general; it’s less spread out, so it’s potent. We only need a little.”

“This is insane. You know that, right? You must see it. This is lunacy.”

“It’s surviving. Which is a choice.”

Oh, how I hated that, but I understood. I knew. I got it. We could all do the world a favor and die, but none of us truly wanted to. Or at least… knew we should not want that. How did one judge the worth of a life? The risk of that life doing wrong? At what point could I or anyone say, you’re too dangerous to live because of what you might do?

“You’re right,” I whispered.

“It's going to be okay. I promise. Come on and join us today.” His smile was small, but real. “Keeps you from going crazy.”

And I knew that was true for him.

And I knew it was true for them.

And I knew it was not true for me.

Something weird was happening here. Or I was delusional.

Or maybe It was lying to me, wanting me so hungry I would make a mistake.

(I knew, though: It could not lie.)

“I’ll join you,” I said, softly. “But I swear, if I see actual innocent people being… being…”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I trust the people we’re working with.”

“Web.” I clenched my jaw. (Were my teeth made of eyes, too? Calcified, maybe?)

“I don’t expect you to be there right away,” he said, and kissed my forehead again. “I don’t expect you to adjust to all this quickly. But I hope you can at least trust me.”

I stared. “That is a hell of a thing to leverage, Martin.”

“It’s that important. I wouldn’t just say that, you know.”

I did know. “You’re really serious about this.”

“I need you so much.” It was a whisper. “I’ll do anything I have to do in order to keep you from… burning out, or getting devoured by your stupid Eye, or falling afoul of the hunters.”

“Hunters?” I said.

“Later.”

We were growing quite a pile of things to talk about later. “All right. All right. I’ll come with you. Show me, Martin. I trust you.”

So help me, he regained some of his color as we walked out of the courtyard to join the others, who’d waited by the curb.

I had never been good with groups of people.

The theater group in which I met Georgie (and through her, gained at least some social skills) had helped a little.

The Magnus Institute Library employees, of whom I was merely one of many, also helped—I could tag along without pressure, camouflaged by their gregariousness.

The Archives… that group was considerably less comfortable because I felt like it was all on me.

It wasn’t. I know that now, but my promotion went straight to my head, and not in a confident way. I’d felt immediately underqualified and out of place, and wondered daily why the hell I’d accepted the position.

I knew now. I could not have refused. I didn’t know that, then. I’m not sure that understanding would have helped, either.

Still, the social aspect of things had only meant stress. To this day, I did not recall going to Martin’s birthday party and rambling about emulsions while eating rum and raisin ice cream. The Eye did not give me that memory back. I knew it happened only because Tim and Martin and Sasha had never stopped teasing me over it. Very funny, really.

(Tim. Sasha. Oh, gods…)

(Right, Archive, focus, you’re all right, they’re here now—)

(Jon. Dear lord. Focus, Jon.)

So I was obviously in a good head space for something like this.

“So you’re really Jon,” said Jane Prentiss, and something that wasn’t a tongue moved in her mouth as she spoke.

I choked a little. “Y… yeah. Hi.”

“Huh. I killed you in my world,” she said.

“I’m hearing that a lot today,” I muttered.

She smiled, and dear gods, her teeth were squirming. “I’m glad they found you. I wanted to apologize.”

“To… wh… why?”

“Well, it wasn’t really you I was mad at. It was your Eye.”

“Oh.”

Her grin made it more awkward, not less; she stepped closer. “You smell delicious, by the way.”

“Martin,” I said in a tiny, pitiful voice.

“Jane, come on, be nice,” said Martin, pulling me closer.

She laughed and backed away.

“Did everybody here kill me?” I whispered.

“Not all of them, but, uh. Possibly most?”

Fuck.

We walked past the park and into the city. It was clean; the vehicles genuinely were all electric. I saw no one who seemed down on their luck, either, which was bizarre.

What kind of idealized place was this? And what, exactly, was the hidden underside?

They were all talking, and because I have terrible timing, I decided this was the moment to whisper to Martin, “What did you mean by, ‘don’t you try to take my choices and blame yourself for them?’”

He stiffened. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“All right. I can wait.”

“Liar.”

I laughed. “I am not lying.”

“You can’t wait to find out,” he teased.

Gods, I wanted to kiss him. “I may have learned a little patience in a thousand years.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he challenged.

I grinned, but before I could respond, he spoke.

No. Another him spoke.

“Right,” said his voice, but it wasn’t him, and I turned slowly to find the other Martin waiting for us all on the corner.

The moment I saw him in the light of day, I knew: this Martin was Web.

Completely Web, all the way through; his smile was perfect, and his stance, and the way he shifted his weight and barely met other people’s eyes and laughed easily.

It was completely fake, and I could see it, and I felt like my skin was going to crawl right off my bones. Or whatever I had under there. Eye-bones.

He seemed to know, and he stopped to stare at me. For one moment, when I met his eyes, they were dead. Flat. Dull. There in place to hide the spiders behind them, utterly without anything resembling emotion or true life.

Then he was just Martin (so similar to my Martin, or… no. What Martin had been before everything), and smiling at everybody. “I’ve got all kinds of assignments for you today,” he said, handing out Post-It notes.

“Sure, but did you account for our latest acquisition?” said Nolan One.

Sarah Baldwin barked a laugh, and Jane elbowed her.

“I did!” said Spider Martin happily. “Jon? It’s okay if I call you Jon, right? You’re starting out with me today.” He approached me.

Don’t reach for the Eye, I told myself. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

On my bright green Post-It was Martin’s flowing script with two addresses and the instructions, 1:30pm Martin B.; 3:00pm Mike C. “What?” I said.

“Why?” said my Martin.

“Because we’ve all got split shifts, and it seems like a good idea to help Jon get along with everybody?” said Spider Martin. “His second will be with Mike.”

“Not fair,” said my Martin, but without anguish.

Spider Martin shrugged. “It’s the best one for this afternoon. Trust me on this.”

Everyone seemed to accept this with ease. Great. They were all drinking the arachnidian Kool-Aid.

“Can I get him next time?” said Michael.

Spider Martin beamed. “Yes! Jane after that.”

“Yipee!” said Michael.

“What is happening right now?” I said.

“I think you’re popular?” said my Martin.

I did not feel popular.

“Shall we?” said Spider Martin.

“I don’t even know what we’re doing. I don’t understand. I don’t—”

My Martin cupped my cheek, turned me to him, and kissed me. Lingering. Slow. A delicate tasting of lips and tongue, a gentle whisper of love and attention, a promise. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured.

“I don’t have a box for any of this,” I murmured back. “And I think my label maker is broken.”

Martin laughed. “Your label maker of doom?”

“Something like that.”

He nuzzled me. “See you in a little bit.”

And he pulled away, paired up with Sarah Baldwin. (Stranger—and if she did anything to him, I would…)

(Would what? Would what? I didn’t know. Something terrible. Something…)

“I don’t bite,” said Spider Martin.

I looked at him.

Martin’s smile. Martin’s face. Martin’s body. No—Martin’s skin. I could feel he was crawling on the inside.

I turned away. Whatever happened to him was done. He wasn’t mine, never had been. I still wanted to react. Violently. As if to his murder.

“I’m not dead, you know,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” I whispered.

“No more than Annabelle. I know—or I’m pretty sure, anyway—that you’ll struggle with this, but I chose this path. I did. I’m happy with it, too.”

“You ended your world.”

“Pot, kettle?”

I swallowed. “Knowing I did wrong hardly exonerates you.”

“We didn’t really get to know you in my world,” said Spider Martin. “You caught up with Darren and took the book back right at Mister Spider’s front door.”

Darren. That’s what the bully’s name was. “Did I?”

“Yeah. You died pretty quickly. Your mind snapped before they could get much fear out of you, so there wasn’t a point to dragging it out.”

I turned to stare at him.

“There you are!” he said cheerily. “Your eyes were brown originally, weren’t they?”

“They were. And yours should be green.”

He beamed. “Naw.”

“Naw?”

“Blue tends to be trusted more easily. It’s racially offensive, and largely due to media influence, but there you go.”

I stared harder.

“Would you rather me pretend to be something I’m not?” he asked, putting genuine curiosity into it.

“No,” I said quietly. “I… it’s a nightmare. This. Is all.”

“Because you think it’s losing someone.”

“It is.”

“No. The Stranger—that’s losing someone. A weird ingestion and rebirth like the Distortion—that’s losing someone. This?” He gestures at himself. “This isn’t losing someone any more than you were lost.”

I wasn’t sure I hadn't been lost.

He smiled so easily. “Come on. Let me show you how this works. You’ll think better when fed,” he said, as harmless and bright as a children’s mascot.

I was already fed. Somehow. But I didn’t want to try to get into it. “Lead the way, I suppose.” Everyone else had already paired off and left. “Do you always assign partners?”

“And areas, yes. We wouldn’t want to cause harm, and the buddy system helps prevent that.”

I snorted.

“It’s true! Your Beholding might lack the ability to consider consequences, but surely you don’t think we do.”

“What, the Web has a stance against overfishing?”

“Yes! Exactly so. We didn’t even mean to end the world when we did. We’re significantly more careful now to avoid it ever happening again.”

“How did it happen, then?”

(The Eye offered to show me. I refused.)

“Get to know me a little bit better, and I’ll tell you.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to get to know him better, but I also didn’t feel like I had a choice.

In silence, he led me north, past old buildings I sort of knew, past silent cars I’d never imagined, past lovely boutiques and pubs with a distinct lack of loud music or voices coming from them.

I’d never seen a London like this. I had no idea how to feel about it.

Neither did It, and the drive to know why this was so grew in me with anticipatory joy like a child looking forward to their birthday.

I couldn’t blame It. This was absolutely unexpected. The differences in history must have been significant.

“How did your world end, anyway?” said Spider Martin. “You hardly have to tell me, of course, but I rather thought you’d prefer we hear your understanding over Manuela’s.”

I really needed to meet this woman. “And how the hell would she even know anything?”

“Same way she found you.” We turned a corner, and finally there was sound—a busker, just beginning to tune his violin. “She calculates things. Honestly, if she weren’t so firmly entrenched in the Eye, she'd have made a lovely sister.”

I stopped walking. “She’s Eye?”

“That she is. It was her desire to see more and know every world that had her prepared and able to escape when the time came.”

I couldn’t imagine Manuela Dominguez as Eye. “Then she didn’t build a Dark Sun. She didn’t hole up at Ny-Ålesund. She didn’t try to summon Mister Pitch.”

“Not her. Some of her alternates, yes, but they’re secondaries. She’s Prime.”

“Prime?”

“The first one of her kind rescued. In her case, the actual rescuer, too.” Martin produced paper money from his pocket.

It wasn’t a design I’d ever seen. “May I?”

“Of course.” He handed it over.

It was a ten-pound banknote. Julius Caesar glowered on the front of it, stern and uncompromising. The bill itself was cornflower blue; intricate guilloche in a gradient from orange to purple subtly deepened the design, and it bore such phrases as The Bank of Holy England and Toward the Greatest Empire.

Damn. I really needed to get hold of some history books.

(The Eye offered to show me how this banknote existed. How it had been designed. What the phrases meant. Why a long-dead Roman emperor decorated the front. No, I told It, firm and tamping down my need. Let me find out on my own.)

This delighted It. The joy of discovery through me was apparently worth the wait.

“What did money look like where you came from?” said Spider Martin.

“Do you actually care?” I drawled.

“Inasmuch as I’m trying to establish a decent working relationship with you, yes, I absolutely do.”

“Then surely you know telling me things is more valuable than asking.”

“What do you think I've been doing?” said Spider Martin. “We are here to pay that man over there to play ‘The Outlandish Knight,’ which he associates with a past girlfriend, with whom he associates the feeling of being trapped and controlled, and playing it makes him afraid he’ll never get free. Thus, shall I be fed. And you, my dear Archivist, merely need to watch him—because he’ll feel very, very watched, and thus shall you be fed.”

I frowned. “And he deserves this, does he?”

“In revenge against that girlfriend, he poisoned her cat.”

“He what?” Well, now I was furious.

Which (calm down, Jon) was probably on purpose. It was calculated.

“He did,” said Spider Martin. “What happened to him wasn’t nice, but he isn’t very nice, either.”

“Did the cat… die?”

“No, fortunately, though it did go blind.”

I clenched my jaw. Anger against this random man tempted. (Easy, Jon. Easy.) “If you’re lying to me, we’re going to have a problem.”

Spider Martin looked at me. “Jon, I’m not stupid enough to lie to you. You could just see it. If I lie, it’ll undo any attempts to build trust between us. All right?”

That… made sense. “All right. Why do you want to work with me, then?”

“Because we all need to work together. All of us. We’re unique in all the world, and we have a challenging existence. We need each other to keep each other balanced and prevent the world from ending again.”

Damn, but it was all logical. “Why did you call me Archivist a moment ago?”

“Because that’s what you are—and I suspected it would be easier to think of eating a bit of this man’s fear with that reminder.”

This honesty was refreshing. Maybe a little too refreshing. It was all calculated, every bit of it.

But then, it was calculated because it would be effective, and I couldn’t fault him for trying to be effective. Web was just… so disturbing about it, which was the entire point. “Will this mark him?”

“No. We’re getting a taste, caring for ourselves, but not doing enough harm to mark anyone. Most of them don’t even remember it happened after; they just shrug it off.”

I exhaled shakily.

It was heavy. Too heavy.

“Take a moment,” said Spider Martin. “Looks like you need it.”

I eyed him. “Reading my thoughts?”

“No, your face. It’s quite expressive. Whatever you’re thinking about, it’s clearly a lot?”

I hated his blue eyes.

That wasn’t his fault. Something about him just made me remember how I had watched him die.

(Then is your Martin really your Martin?)

Yes. Shut up. I couldn’t… That was not a box we were opening this afternoon. No.

Maybe not ever.

“If you’re really not ready, it’s okay,” said Spider Martin. “Last thing I want to do is upset you.”

“Sure. Because I’m so dangerous compared to the lot of you.”

“You are, actually.” Spider Martin shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m really not. I can hardly damage anyone the way I could at the end of my world, and I was nothing but a punching bag before that.”

He tilted his head. “Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s not what we—oh, pardon.” He took out his phone.

“Not what you what?”

Spider Martin’s eyes went wide. “Shit,” he said. “Keep up!” And he turned and ran.

Spider Martin could move. That was not at all how my Martin ran, not at all his body language or motion or mobility, and the smooth, loping speed of it was freakishly comforting compared to the mask of the one I loved.

I ran after him.

Fun fact: being made of eyes and/or light beams made me better at running than I would have guessed.

I mean. I wasn’t good at it. But I also didn’t run out of breath, or stumble, both of which would have been the case before.

I kept up with Spider Martin, who I swear was running with the use of six extra invisible legs, and that was no small thing.

“What is it?” I called at his back.

“Get ready for a fight!” he said.

“A fight? A fight with wh-”

I saw.

Hunters, Martin had said.

Nolan Two on the ground with smoke pouring out of his chest instead of blood.

Nolan One behind a car flipped onto its side, unable to stick his head around it at all because of—

What was—

What WAS that, that was—

I couldn’t understand what I saw. Purple, green, wisps of things like tentacles, not solid, and yet they were, punching holes into that car, not just reaching around it but building Nolan’s fear, and—

We turned the corner at the same time as Mike Crew and Helen Richardson, and everyone acted at once.

Coordinated? No. They’d just done this before.

Helen distorted into a tall and mutated and terrible thing and dropped straight into the sidewalk—and at the same time, a yellow door opened beneath Nolan Two, and he fell out of sight.

(I couldn’t see the attacker. I needed to see it.)

Mike bared his teeth—a horrifying look, actual anger, which he had not shown with me the day he threw me into the sky—and gestured.

Lightning struck.

Struck… what?

(I couldn’t see it! I needed to see it!)

Mike couldn’t see it, either; he struck where those tendrils were coming from, the central invisible knot of them, but evidently did not hit it, because now, it threw tendril-attacks at him. He moved, guessing as much (he could not see them, I knew he could not), staying out of the way of whatever it was punching holes where he’d been.

Spider Martin picked up another car and threw it.

That one connected; the car hit something, but was not enough to stop it, and more tendrils shot out toward Mike and Spider Martin.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. My eyes burned, my head throbbed—I couldn’t see it, I had to see it, I needed to see—

Michael grabbed me and pulled me into a yellow door in a wall just as one of those purple-green tendrils slammed into the sidewalk where I’d been, cracking it, penetrating below the concrete.

The Corridors. So familiar. I knew this well.

“No!” I cried, throwing myself at the door.

“Easy, Archivist,” said Michael, right up behind me, long hands draping over my shoulders to pull me back. “You aren’t ready to deal with them.”

“No! I need to see it! I need to see it!”

“Archivist,” Michael thrummed at me. “You’ll make your Martin cry.”

Martin?

Martin.

I stopped, gripping the door handle. “I… I need to… see it?”

“You will be hurt. Maybe killed. That would be terrible.”

He did not sound like it would be terrible.

I shook. “I couldn’t see it. Michael. Please. I have to see it. I have to try.”

He sighed. “Silly Archivist. As you wish.” He reached past me, all around me, and opened the door.

We were on a nearby roof, and I could look down and see.

I looked.

Looked.

(Use me, It beckoned.)

And I did.

My vision opened as it had not since I arrived here, and I saw.

Connected it was all connected

Powers like the Fears but different

All through this world every living thing everyone was marked or

Not marked something like marked already connected

Connected it was all

The thing

There

A person but not

It was three persons in one

Three of them together standing there strange dark bodysuit a gas mask

No hands

No hands only those tendrils sprouting from their arms, tendrils which now seemed so solid

Each of them moving independently (three person in there, three minds to work them) trying actively to kill us all

To kill the Nolans the Mike the Helen the

I saw, and as I did, I broke the attacker apart.

I didn't even mean to. I just saw it for what it truly was, and made reality real.

One second, it was invisible, impossible to harm, its tendrils unseen by the others. The next it stood there, a person in a weird suit—and it shuddered, and then it was three. They exploded apart, splitting the uniform and popping the gas mask like a hatched egg in rapid-time.

And now, the others could see them. Could see three naked people on the sidewalk, gasping, shuddering, heads down, vomiting.

Nolan, Mike, and Helen surged in without hesitation, all at once.

I looked away, swaying, gasping.

Michael kept me from falling off the roof. He looked amazed. “What did you do?”

Fed.

I was so fed.

I felt rich with it, blissful, drugged. Absolutely relaxed and warm and tingling to the edges of every inch of my form.

Sirens. Coming.

“Time to go!” said Michael, pulling me back through his yellow door.

The Corridors did their thing, and I felt it, and floated in it, and spun and flew and was.

Michael cried out.

So did I. We became colors and swirling paint, flowing out of the drain against gravity in beauty and madness and bliss. And then—

I woke up.

I was back in my little bed in my gray apartment. My hair was wet; I smelled of soap. My heart pounded. (Benign essential blepharospasm, perhaps?)

Martin was next to me, asleep. I stared at my boring popcorn ceiling.

Had that… happened?

Next to me, on the nightstand, was a bright green Post-It note with handwriting I didn’t know. It said, Jon. We need to talk.—JL

Leitner.

Sure. Sure, we could talk. Fuck if I knew about what, though because I had no idea what had occurred.

It was four twenty-two in the morning. Martin slept. Leitner could wait.

I watched Martin, trying to understand (had I slept? If so, it was the first time in a thousand years), trying to parse what I’d seen and what I’d done.

The Eye did not help me because It could not. It didn’t know, either, and that frightened me more than anything else I’d seen.

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NOTES

He's like a shammy; he's like a towel; he's like a sponge! A regular towel doesn't work wet, but Jon works wet or dry. Holds 12 times his weight in trauma!

#tma #tma fanfic #tma fic #jonathan sims #tma au #magnus monsterverse #martin blackwood #web!martin #mike crew #jane prentiss #arthur nolan #michael distortion #helen distortion

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