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glassartpeasants · 4 years ago

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Like Father Like Son .2

Overhaul x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of not eating, depression, mentions of needles, unhealthy/toxic relationships, child abuse,

A/N: Ya’ll wanted a part two well here you go :) again thank you @yandereacademia for letting me use they’re headcanon to make this story! Also the original plot is changed for the stories sake.

~~~

2 months after you talked to your son

You still didn’t have the motivation to move. Only to go to the bathroom and maybe, MAYBE eat. What was the point in it all? Everything that kept you going in life was ripped away from you by the man known as Overhaul. He took away Eri and he took away your son. Well he took away your used to be son.

Once you found out that he was apart of Eri’s experiments you were distraught. The little boy you once knew was nothing but a monster walking in his father's shoes. And to think that this thing was from your own flesh and blood and doing such horrific things to a sweet innocent girl.

Both men came in once and awhile to see if you had any side effects from the test drug that they had given you. Long term or short term they just made sure to check. They soon noticed that your condition was slowly decreasing by the lack of sleep, water, and food you had.

You were a shell of your former self. If you looked in the mirror you were sure you wouldn’t be able to recognize yourself. You looked like a ghost. It was disturbing to see your once happy exterior turn into husk of a human.

The worst part of this nightmare was not knowing what they we’re doing to Eri. Where they still making the bullets? Did they finally stop hurting her? You unfortunately got your answer once you heard Mimic talking about how they we’re so close to making a million bullets.

They had started the horrific experiments when she was six. She was 15 now so knowing that for 9 year they continued hurting her made your stomach turn. All you wanted to do was escape out of this prison and run to her, tell her that your here and that everything will be okay. That you’ll protect her from the monsters that surround her.

The thought of Eri made you tremble in guilt. If only you were strong enough to protect her. Strong enough to run, run and never look back. You would never have to see the monsters that plague your dreams everyday. Never have to see your own flesh and blood turn even more into a monster than he already was.

All of a sudden your bedroom door slammed open and out popped Overhaul standing in the doorway with hives all over his skin and anger in his eyes. His gloved hands curled into fists as he stomped his way over to your spot in the corner.

“Where the fuck is Eri?!” He had grabbed you by the arm and yanked you up to your feet where he looked at you with his gold orbs. His grip on your arm hurt and you could feel his fingers digging into your flesh.

“I don’t know what your talking about-” A painful hit to the cheek is what you were met with when you let those few words out.

“Don’t fucking lie! Where is she damnit!” His fingers dig deeper only causing you to writhe in pain and whimper.

“I-I really don’t know! I haven’t left this room in 2 weeks!” You try to calm him down by telling him the truth but it seems like that wasn’t enough for him.

“If you don’t tell me the truth right now you end up being a bloody puddle on the floor.” You were about to retort back but soon realized something. If he killed you, you wouldn’t have to live this lifestyle anymore. Eri escaped and seems like she hasn’t been caught. That means the only thing you wished for has come true. So what's the point in staying here longer when your surrounded by people who hate you.

“I. Don’t. Know.” With a growl, Overhaul ripped off his glove and right when he was about to kill you, Nemoto came running in to tell the boss ‘good news’.

“We’ve found Eri! Last saw her down 2nd street!” Your face contorted in horror before you were thrown to the ground as Kai ran towards Nemoto and out the door.

Your body collapsed onto the carpeted floor before the sound of the door slamming shut made you whimper in fear. Your lifeless eyes scan around the room before a chuckle left your throat as tears of joy begin to roll down your cheeks.

“She escaped, I’m so happy...thank you...” Even in the dark room that you called your home, a little ray of happiness shined through the covered windows knowing Eri had escaped from this horrible place.

~~~

��They caught her again. She back at the compound. Overhaul told me to tell you.” You felt your soul break at the horrible news you were told. You knew something bad was gonna happen when you saw that your ‘son’ opened the door in the corner of your eye.

Seeing him makes you wanna throw up. Your once sweet boy had turned into a monster just like his father. He even made him tell you the horrible news that Eri was captured again. You knew there was gonna be a punishment waiting for her. You just hoped it wasn’t to bad but knowing Overhaul you didn’t know what to expect. Tears escaped down your face, your face still blank. Empty.

The silence was suffocating for the both of you. You could feel your sons presence still at the door. He was watching you. Watching as your unmoving body had tears spilling from your eyes. Watching as your hope was crushed once again. You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t take the pain and suffering that was this life. You just wanted to end it all. Maybe death would be your only escape. The only thing stopping you was Eri. You just wanted to make sure that before you even do something like that, you wanted her to be in a safe haven. But it seems like even she can’t have that.

He had no words to say. What could he say to you? You had fully disowned him and looked at him with disgust. Looked at him like he was someone unworthy of love. You would always give Overhaul that look. The look of pure hatred. And now he was also on the receiving end of that look.

He hated it. Who were you to tell him what he couldn’t do? You weren’t there for him when-...oh..yeah...He remembered. He remembered the day where he ‘disowned’ you. He can still remember the look of pure heartbreak that shown through your eyes when he said those words.

He also remembered the cries of heartbreak that he heard on the other side of the wall. It kept him up a lot. Nightmares had plagued his dreams ever since the day you had disowned him. Your words repeated inside of his mind. Over and over again.

His nightmares were always the same. He’d be walking on some sort of street while it was raining. His feet making the puddles splash. His raincoat making pattering noises as the rain slipped off it.

He’d walk past a house and turn his head to look at it. It was a beautiful house, the grass lush and green with flowers planted right next to the house. No paint was chipped. The roof tiles were in perfect condition, not a single one missing.

Inside the window there was you. Holding a baby while singing to it. Rocking it gently back and forth. Singing the same song you use to sing to him when he was young. He remembered the tune so vividly but could not remember the words. Only the tune.

He walked up to the window to look inside of it, there sat a man. He didn’t recognize him at all. At least not where he was standing. The rain blurred his vision as it pounded against the glass window. He watched as the man got up from his seat on the couch to walk over to you and press a kiss to your cheek. He could hear your entire conversation.

“She’s so cute. What do you think she’ll turn out to be like?”

“Whatever she wants to be. I’ll support her all the way through. Give her all the love she deserves.” You gave the baby girl a kiss on the head, causing the baby to make grabby hands at you.

“I’m sorry about your son. He was gone too early.” What? No he didn’t! He was right here! He begin banging on the windows, begging for your attention.

“I’m not dead! Mom! I’m right here! Please! I’m sorry!” Tears would show through his eyes he felt a burning pain in his hands. His hands were gone. They chipped away, only leaving him with stumps.

“He doesn’t matter. He was a monster. A monster undeserving of my love. I’d never love someone like him.”

Then he would wake up.

He snapped outta it before looking at you once again. Still in the same spot as always. Letting out a sigh he begin to talk.

“I’ll...I’ll get you your food-”

“I want nothing from you. Nothing from you is worth eating. I’d rather starve than take anything you give me. Now get the fuck out of my room you monster.” Letting out a shaky exhale, he slowly closed the door. Watching as you didn’t make a move to look at him. Just as he closed the door Overhaul had appeared before him.

“What was her reaction?”

“She cried.”

“Of course she would have. Know this (S/N), never let anyone get close to you. It only leads to heartbreak and pain. Plus it’s annoying. Do you understand me child?”

“Yes Overhaul.”

“Good. Now come along, Eri’s about to get tested.” Nodding his head, he followed his father, following exactly in his footsteps.

~~~

1 week later

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sounds of pounding on the walls woke you up from your slumber as you carefully maneuver yourself to take a peek out into the hallway. Your eyes widened when you see Overhaul subordinates running fast as they can down the hall and away from what seems like the front door.

Worry fills your being as you begin to move your head all around seeing if Overhaul was anywhere before making a mad dash to Eri’s room. Your footsteps echoing off the walls as tears brim at your eyes at the thought of seeing Eri again.

You went as fast as your week body could carry you. Feeling light headed from exercise since it’s been to long. But you would push through it. Push through it just to see Eri one more time.

“Eri?! Eri! Eri are where are you?!” You make it to her room before noticing that her door was already unlocked and opened. You wipe open the door before your met with an empty room. Your heart prayed for the best. Hoping that she had somehow escaped.

“Ma’am put your hands up!” You turn your head to see hero’s...

HERO’S!

You cried as you collapsed to your knees as you gave the best smile you could. Tears of joy spilled down your cheeks. You were saved. Saved from this nightmare that stole your life away.

“I don’t think she’s apart of this. Look at her, she looks so malnourished. Not to mention she seems happy to see us. Do you think that she was also a prisoner of Overhaul?”

“By the looks of her most likely. Get her to safety.”

“Wait! Please let me see Eri! Is she okay?! Please tell me she’s okay!”

“We’re going to get her ma’am don’t worry! We promise she’ll be okay!” A man came near you and gently took your hand while you slowly used your strength to get up.

“Let’s take her to safety.’

“Not yet! I wanna help!”

“Ma’am please-”

‘You said you're looking for Overhaul right?”

“Yes?”

“Well he has a son. His quirk is the same as him so you need to be careful. Overhaul has trained him to be just like him.”

“How do you know this?”

“He was my son before I disowned him. I don’t count him as a son. He was also part of the experiments that took place on Eri! Please arrest them all!” The hero’s looked shocked at your information but nodded their heads.

You were taken out of the compound where hero’s stood surrounding it. Most likely making sure that no one escaped through the front or back door. You could hear the sounds of the warfare inside the compound while you were outside. You crossed your fingers, begging for the hero’s to win and for Eri to be safe. And for those two men to be under arrest.

~~~

You were driven to the hospital before you got to see the ending of the fight ( a few days later)

You sat in the hospital bed with an IV in your arm. Trying to get you a bit more hydrated. You let out a sigh before a knock came at your door.

“Come in.” You move your eyes to see the door slowly opening before A familiar face showed behind it.

“Eri!” You sat up quickly and outstretched your arms and she came running into them. Tears of joys started falling down both of your cheeks. You hug her with all the strength you have and begin petting her head before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I miss you so much (Y/N)...Overhaul...he told....he told me you died...”

“Well there’s no need to worry Eri. I’m here with you right now and that’s all the matters. Those monsters won’t hurt you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Y-your son...he got arrested too...”

“That monster is not my son. If I would have anyone as a child I would rather it be someone I’m proud to call my own. Someone who’s stronger than all the heros combined. Someone like you Eri.” Eri started to cry in your hold. Hugging you tightly. The smile on your face never leaving as you weave your fingers through her hair gently.

“I missed you so much Eri. I’m so sorry that those monsters put you through that hell.”

“I missed you too. Promise you’ll never leave me?”

“I would never dream of it.”

“Miss (Y/N), I have some news about Overhaul and your son.” You felt Eri tense in your hold. Hugging you like the world would end if she let go of you.

“They were attacked on the bridge to Tartarus by the league of villains. They seemed to have some sort of feud before getting arrested because they’re attack was only towards them.”

“Well, what happened then?”

“Shigaraki Tomura, the Leader of the LoV, has taken both your sons, and Overhauls hands. They were lucky we got there i time or else they would have died of blood loss.” Your eyes widened at the nurses words before she spoke to you once more.

“Would you like to see them before they get put in solitary confinement? You only get this chance once for now.” Your breath hitched before you turn your attention towards Eri. You both look at one another before she spoke softly.

“You should go. Ask them if they’re finally happy. Ask them if it was worth it.” You sigh before turning your head to the nurse.

“Okay what time do I leave?”

“Right now.”

~~~

At Tartarus

You took a deep breath as you looked around the room. You were walked in with two guards as they brought you to the visiting area of the prison. Your heart felt like it was beating at 100 miles per hour.

You sat at the table looking around while you waited for them to bring out your son. Your nails tapping against the surface of the table. Your mind drifted on what were the words to say. You didn’t know what to say. You were hyping yourself up the whole way here but now that you arrived all of your idea’s left your mind.

You heard the door opening and you turned your head to see your son walking towards you. They were right. The better look you got at him the more you realize that they’re was no longer a difference between Overhaul and your son. Right down to the golden eyes and the lack of limbs.

“You get 20 minutes.” He sat down across from you on the table. His eyes refusing to look into yours.

“Look at me. I said look at me (S/N). I’m not going to ask again.” Your voice strict as your voice rings in his ears. He slowly lifted his head to look into yours. He saw someone he used to know. Your skin had started to glow again like it once did when he was young. Your eyes held emotion inside them instead of emptiness. You looked like his mother.

“Mom-”

“(Y/N)”

“...(Y/N), why...why are you here? I thought you would never want to see me or Overhaul again.”

“Was it worth it (S/N)? Was all the torture you put Eri through worth all this? Worth the 3 life sentences you have against you?” Your voice was harsh. Your words felt like fire against his heart. He knows he deserves everything your here to bring him. Every single thing.

“No...” You were taken aback by his honesty. He said it so quick with no hesitation. But you still had more questions that you had to ask.

“Why wasn’t it worth it? Is it because you got caught?” You put up a front of spikes that made his lip quiver. He knew crying would only lead to you thinking he was faking it. So he tried to hide it, but you could tell he was trying not to.

“Why wasn’t it worth it?”

“I lost everything that day. I lost my limbs, I lost my freedom, I lost any idea of ever living a normal life. And....”

“ANd what?” Tears started spilling down his face, landing on the table and forming a little puddle.

“And I lost you...I’m so sorry...please forgive me mother. I promise I’ll be better...please...” He finally broke down in tears in front of you. His whole body shaking as this was probably the first time he cried in years.

“You’ve lost your chances. You lost them the day I found out you were apart of Eri’s experiments. You are undeserving of forgiveness. What can you even do that would make me even think about forgiving a monster like you?”

“I don’t know....”

“That’s what I thought. You aren’t my son, your nothing but a monster.” You stand up before waving an officer, signalling you were done.

“Please don’t go yet...”

“Goodbye (S/N), maybe someday, or in another life, I’ll be you mother again. Someday I would be proud to call you my son. But until then, your his son. Not mine.” You turn your back to him before walking out the visiting rooms doors never looking back.

Taglist

@zuffer-weird-girl @hello-lucky-luka @thotsforvillainrights @uwuhuffelpuff @animexholic @freelyhappycycle @fan-girling-over-everything @gabbster22 @unknownarts @iwenttoshiratorizawa @nim-rose @ladyriri2006 @bakuhoes-bxtch @chrisrue15

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #mha #bnha #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki overhaul #bnha overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #kai #mha angst #overhaul angst #kai chisaki angst #bnha angst

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universallywriting · 3 years ago

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Connverse: 58 and 75

https://universallywriting.tumblr.com/post/641505013940846593/fanfiction-trope-mash-up

Accidental Eavesdropping and Bed Sharing. Very clever!

------------

If Steven is totally honest with himself, he doesn't know when his powers start. His dad says that there are moments throughout his infancy that might have been magic, or it might have been a tired parent not having the best memory.

There was the occasional toy Greg swore he had put out of reach found back in Steven's hand, the occasional flower patches that seemed to spring up around him. Little things that made Greg wonder just how strong his son really was.

Because of that, Steven could never really be sure when his dreams stopped being his own.

Does he dream about working in the donut shop? Or is that Sadie's mind he's riding along in? Does he have dreams about loneliness, wandering aimlessly in a world of lifeless rocks, or is that Amethyst's memory twisting up in his own when they slept close together?

After fusing with Connie, it's nearly impossible to know if a dream is his or hers.

He's only ever fused with two humans - Connie and his father. The fusion with his father hadn't lasted long - not from any weakness in their relationship but because of his flickering powers. But he and Connie fuse again and again, just for the joy of fusion. They're so in sync it happens by mistake, and his mind gets good at falling into hers.

So how is he supposed to know who dreams of the terrifying ocean overhead, and the comfort of a pink bubble? Who dreams of trying to breathe and finding lungs full of water, or empty of air? Who dreams about books they're reading together, or games they play together, or their favorite shows?

It's rarely easy.

He wakes up one morning with Connie beside him after a sleepover. He's dreamed from her point of view, and he's sure the dream isn't his own, because he has never seen a green paper full of odd little bubbles. He barely understands the dream at all - only vaguely comprehending that the sheet of empty bubbles was a big, important test that he has no chance of passing.

He asks Connie about it, and her cheeks get red as she mumbles, "You shouldn't eavesdrop on people's dreams." It's half a joke, and she had been sweet enough to explain the bubble tests to him, but it sticks with him.

It isn't nice to eavesdrop. He knows that. He's gotten in trouble for it plenty over the years.

So Steven does his best to practice. He practices with all his powers, so it's no trouble to add dreamwalking to the list. He tries to catch his mind whenever its floating off to the humans of Beach City. If a gem needs him, that's fine, but it's rude to sneak around people's brains.

He knows his own face grows hot when he imagines other people seeing his own dreams. His powers have snatched his privacy away more than once. Steven knows it's not a pleasant feeling.

He pulls himself away from dreams of swordfighting and fantastic worlds, and nightmares about school stuff and gem stuff. He rolls back the leash of his magical mind, though it's a strain to keep himself properly out of someone's head when they have the same nightmare again and again, and the need to help makes his gem hum.

But it's rude. He holds back. He lets humans be human without him meddling.

He's gotten really good at it, mostly. It almost never happens. It's only a problem when he and Connie sleep side by side, separated by inches or nothing at all. He doesn't stand a chance then. He's been trying with everything he has, but there's no chance.

When she's this close, he's not sure his gem understands when he ends and she begins.

Any time he and Connie dare to share a bed, his mind tumbles into hers. He asks Garnet, sure it's either a problem of fusion or love, and Garnet is an expert in both. She tells him a little more each time he asks, a little more complicated as he grows, so by seventeen he has a notebook to study from as he tries to solve the impossible problem.

Garnet says that Steven is not good at fusion because he's a Diamond. It's the caring, the empathy, being willing to see things from someone else's point of view. That was the thing that had made fusion come to him so smoothly over time, with so many of his loved ones.

Garnet explains that Connie does the same for him.

Compatibility is a two-way street. If Connie wasn't so good at understanding the world the way he does, Stevonnie wouldn't be such an easy fusion to make. Every year they know each other better, their lives twisting up in one another's no matter how many miles threaten to rip them apart.

The choice is to keep eavesdropping or end being close altogether. Neither of them hesitates.

He falls asleep next to Connie, the two of them snoring in her too-small dorm room bed, and Steven still never has a clue whether he's walked into her dreams or not. Not unless he tried, not unless he meant to.

The only consolation was that Connie didn't either - not unless they talked about it.

He worries over it. "Maybe we could put a pillow between us."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to catch my nightmares."

She looks up at him with deep, brilliant brown eyes and for a little bit it's quiet. he lets it be quiet, because he's gotten good at that over the years. Connie likes to think before she speaks if she isn't angry, so he lets her do that now, carefully picking through her massive vocabulary to phrase her words just right.

"I get more nightmares when I'm alone," she says finally, and her eyes flick away at the confession. "I'd rather go through it with you. It's awful being alone."

They talk about it for a while. It's almost an argument, but not quite, and by the end Connie's laughing and saying, "We're dating, Steven. I don't have a lot of secrets left! What are you gonna see?"

So he eavesdrops. They share dreams of flying and falling, swimming and drowning, success and failure. Sometimes it's a fun game to wonder who the dream comes from, and it's hard to feel embarrassed when they couldn't even tell whose brain it had been cooked up in.

Though when they dream of kissing - when things are suddenly less floaty and wild, and the dreams are nothing but heavy breath, calloused fingers on soft skin, and sweet whispers of adoration. Well. They both wake up blushing, but since it could be either one of them there shouldn't be much to be embarrassed about.

Still, when Steven wakes up from dreams like that, his flaming cheeks make him wish he could get a little better at keeping his mind to himself.

#steven universe #steven universe future #connie maheswaran #connverse #fic

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 4 years ago

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Together (1/2)

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 5985 (total)

Content warnings - HEAVY angst, tw: suicidal thoughts, happy ending w/ lots of cuddles

Prompt/Inspiration - self-indulgent comfort piece

Summary - Your year in the Devildom has come to an end, and now you are struggling to adjust back to life in the human realm. Meanwhile, Mammon is also struggling to adjust to your absence.

AO3 | PART TWO

***READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS***

It had been 3 months since you had returned to the human realm and left the Devildom. And things had been...rough.

In the course of one year, everything had changed for you. You had found love. Found a family. A place to call home.

And even though you would have given anything not to, you still had to go back where you had come from. You had pleaded with Diavolo to allow you to stay, but he insisted that you needed to return, at least for the time being. The whole point of the exchange program after all was to encourage harmony between realms, and that can’t exactly be accomplished if you never return.

To say you missed everyone would have been an understatement. It was harder than you could have imagined to leave behind the one place you finally felt like you belonged. And there was one demon in particular that you were having the hardest time adjusting to being away from - Mammon.

He had been your constant companion during your stay. And even though you both butted heads at first, you grew to love one another and quickly became inseparable. Everything you did, you did together - and that included any number of schemes Mammon tried to carry out. Chaos followed you wherever you went, but so did laughter and joy. It didn’t matter if you both got caught, that time together was priceless to you.

But now you were home, and you had never felt more alone. Depression wasn’t new to you however, so you were prepared for how to care for yourself and make do. You just hoped that you didn’t have to limp along for very long.

Texting Mammon was probably the only thing that kept you afloat most days. And today was no exception. You knew he had been having a rough time too, but he was still your rock and never failed to make you smile.

While you were laying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media, looking for memes to send to your favorite demon, your DDD chimed. Checking the notification you realized it was none other than Mammon.

>>Mammon - I love you >>You - I love you too 😘 >>You - what have you been doing today? >>Mammon - I dunno. Just hanging out in my room I guess. >>Mammon - I miss you >>You - I miss you too ❤️❤️❤️ >>You - why don’t you see what Asmo is doing? Maybe you could go to The Fall? >>Mammon - nah. Don’t really feel like it. >>Mammon - what about you? >>You - same old, same old lol >>You - just looking for memes 🙃 >>Mammon - Any good ones? >>You - not yet lol >>Mammon - I really miss you :( >>You - I know. Me too. >>Mammon - everything is so boring with you gone. >>Mammon - nothing is as fun without you. >>You - I know what you mean. I wish you could be here. >>Mammon - that would be nice. I’d never leave. >>You - good. I wouldn’t want you to. 😘 >>You - so...about last night… >>Mammon - yeah? >>You - you were actually upset that I didn’t call, weren’t you? >>Mammon - ….

>>You - Levi told me. He said he heard you sniffling when he got up to get some snacks. >>Mammon - oh >>You - why didn’t you say anything? >>Mammon - I didn’t wanna manipulate you. >>You - manipulate me? Lol Mammon it’s just a phone call >>Mammon - yeah but you said you were tired >>You - I would have called if I knew you were that upset. >>Mammon - I just didn’t want ya to feel pressured. >>You - it’s fine. It’s a phone call. Not like you’re asking for nudes. 😜 >>You - will you promise to tell me in the future? If you really need to talk? Let me decide if it’s too much for me to handle, ok? >>Mammon - ok

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt...off...about this conversation. As wonderful as Mammon was to you, he was still the Avatar of Greed - so holding himself back wasn’t something he usually did. Especially not for something as trivial as a phone call. Why was he suddenly acting like a phone call would be such a burden to you?

>>You - I can’t physically cuddle with you, so at least let me be there for you over the phone. ❤️ >>Mammon - I love you >>You - I love you too babe 😘 >>You - you believe me don’t you? >>Mammon - lol yeah >>You - good. >>You - you better not forget it. >>Mammon - it’s just hard sometimes >>You - what is? >>Mammon - being away from you. >>Mammon - didn’t realize it was gonna be this hard >>You - yeah >>You - you ok? >>Mammon - I dunno. Just tired. >>You - 😘 >>You - you’re supposed to be coming for a visit soon, right? >>Mammon - yeah Lucifer said we’d take a trip, dunno when tho >>You - well I can’t wait to see you again. >>Mammon - me too. >>Mammon - I’m just so sick of all this. >>Mammon - I miss ya too much. >>Mammon - everything else is just...idk >>Mammon - I just want to hide in my room honestly and not have to deal with everyone else

The longer you talked with Mammon, the more sure you became that something was wrong. You wanted to ask him, but you weren’t even sure what to ask. It was like...everything he said echoed perfectly how you had been feeling. Withdrawn, lonely, isolated.

You were a very empathetic person by nature, but this just felt too real, too close to home. You weren’t even needing to imagine yourself in his position, because it was the very same position you were in.

As that thought occurred to you, a chill went down your spine.

It couldn’t be? Could it? He’s never said anything like that before. But…

You picked up your DDD again and scrolled back through your messages. You considered texting him and just asking him directly, but you didn’t want to put ideas into his head that weren’t already there. On the other hand, you’d never forgive yourself if something truly was wrong and you ignored this sinking feeling in your gut. So you decided the only thing for you to do was to say something.

>>You - sorry if this sounds weird or dramatic >>You - it’s just hard to tell since I can’t see you right now >>You - and I’d rather be safe than sorry >>You - can you promise me something? >>Mammon - what?

Your hands were shaking now, and you could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Please, please let me be wrong , you thought.

>>You - if you feel suicidal, will you please get help? >>You - go to someone. Anyone. Levi would probably be good. He’s always there you know? >>You - I just have this feeling >>You - and I can’t shake it >>You - so will you promise me?

You saw the little indicator pop up letting you know Mammon was typing. But then it would stop. Only to return a few moments later. Your anxiety had become overwhelming by this point and you crawled out of bed and started pacing around the room, checking your DDD every 5 seconds to see if he had sent a message through yet.

The longer it took for him to reply, the tighter you felt your chest get, and the more your heart rate accelerated. You were in full “fight or flight” mode now, and the “fight” was making your thoughts race as you tried to figure out what to do next. Should you call Lucifer? One of his brothers? You just needed someone to check on him.

>>Mammon - I ummm >>Mammon - I don’t know if I can promise that >>Mammon - just the thought of it makes me feel sick >>Mammon - and like Lucifer would take me seriously >>Mammon - ha

By now, the only sound you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears. You were hardly aware of your own surroundings anymore, and there was only one thought on your mind.

I have to get to Mammon.

How could you do that though? Getting permission from Diavolo or Lucifer would take awhile. And how would you even explain that anyways without violating Mammon’s trust? Maybe Solomon could help? You had no idea how long it would take him to get back to you, but it was worth a shot. You knew he’d be the least likely to ask questions too. All you needed now was to buy yourself some time.

RING RING RING

“Mammon?”

“Hey.”

“Hey babe. How are you feeling?”

“I dunno. Just tired.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s been hard for me to get out of bed some days.”

“You too huh?”

You knew he had been feeling bad, but you were not prepared for just how...lifeless...his voice sounded right now over the phone. Suddenly you heard a DING and realized Solomon had gotten back to you, so you switched your call to speakerphone so you could continue talking to Mammon.

“I love you.”

“I love ya too.”

“I wish I could see you right now. I could use a hug.”

“Me too.”

>>Solomon - I haven’t heard from you in awhile. >>Solomon - Is everything ok? >>You - yeah, I was just wondering if it was possible to go visit Mammon. >>Solomon - you mean with a spell? >>You - yeah. I just miss him you know? And I’d like to surprise him.

“You know I’d miss you a lot if you were ever gone, right?”

“....yeah.”

“It’s true. I can’t wait to see you again.”

>>Solomon - Well, theoretically yes it is possible. >>You - but? >>Solomon - but doing so would take an immense amount of power. Something you don’t have. >>You - oh. Right. Duh. >>Solomon - what about summoning him? >>Solomon - that’s much easier to do.

“Me too. I just want to hold ya and kiss ya. I miss that.”

“I know. I want to snuggle with you too.”

“Yeah…”

“Maybe we could go somewhere you know? Just the two of us.”

>>You - how do I do that? >>Solomon - Do you remember the spell I taught you to summon Asmodeus? >>You - yeah >>Solomon - it’s the same one. Just summon Mammon instead. >>You - and that will work between realms? >>Solomon - it should. >>Solomon - since you have such a strong connection to him it will make it easier.

“I dunno know if Lucifer would allow that.”

“I bet he would if I asked.”

“Ha, maybe. He does seem soft on ya.”

“Of course he is. I’m just so sweet and innocent you know. Hard not to be charmed by me.”

“Riiiight. Not sure I’d call ya innocent. Sweet maybe.”

“Hey babe, I need to go for a bit so I can go to the bathroom. But I’ll call you right back ok?”

“Ok.”

“I love you!”

“I love you too.”

If Solomon was correct, even with your limited magical abilities, you shouldn’t have any trouble at all calling Mammon to you. You hadn’t tried to use your pacts before, but you were willing to try anything right now. So you began chanting the spell:

“HEAR ME DENIZENS OF DARKNESS! You who are born of shadow, and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command!”

You felt as the magical energy began to gather around you, making your hair stand on end. It was working.

“I, MC, call upon you to send forth one of your number!

I summon the Avatar of Greed, MAMMON!”

The walls of your room began to shake, the windows rattled, when a bright flash of light filled the room. You brought your arm up to cover your eyes and hoped against hope that when you opened them again your demon would be there in front of you.

And he was.

Sitting on the ground, holding himself upright with his arms, was a very disoriented looking Mammon. His hair was a disheveled mess, his clothes looked like they hadn’t been changed in a couple days, and you could still see fresh tears falling down his cheeks.

“MAMMON!”

You rushed forward, without wasting another moment, and tackled him into the tightest hug you could manage. You buried your face into his neck, while you straddled his lap, crying in relief.

Mammon had no idea what to do. One moment he had been in his room, wishing he could see you, and the next he was in a strange place with someone who looked an awful lot like you hugging him and calling his name. But it couldn’t really be you, could it? Hesitantly, he sat up so he could bring his arms around you, fearful that when he touched you you would be gone.

But you weren’t. Your body felt warm against his. He could hear your heartbeat. He could feel your tears, soaking through his shirt. As he tightened his arms around you, he realized he could even smell your favorite shampoo, and that was all it took to undo the last bit of self control he had. He pulled you as close as he could get you, one hand around your waist, the other around your torso, gripping your shoulder.

And he cried. All the tears that he had been trying to fight off. All the ones he avoided having shed up until now. He cried them all. His throat burned and ached, and he was pretty sure he was getting snot all over you by now, but neither one of you cared. You simply clung to one another, determined to never let the other go.

After what seemed like hours, your tears had finally run dry, and your heart rate was slowly returning to normal. You could still feel the adrenaline in your veins, and figured that probably wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

You pulled back a little to try to get a look at Mammon, and when he kept trying to avoid your gaze, you took his face gently in your hands and turned him to look at you. Those beautiful sapphire eyes. They were still damp with tears, and you tenderly wiped them away as they fell while you looked at him.

“I love you, Mammon,” was all you said before pressing a kiss to his lips. Soft, and comforting, and gentle. You wanted him to know how much he meant to you. You felt him try to pull you even closer by the waist, and smiled as you broke away to look at him again.

“I missed you, you know.”

“But...how…?” Mammon was starting to become aware of the fact that this was reality, and he was most definitely no longer in the Devildom.

“Solomon. Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him anything. Just that I wanted to see you,” you pressed a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose, causing him to smile.

“So all that about going to the bathroom…?”

“Oh ha. That was just me summoning you.”

Mammon pulled you closer, and you wrapped your arms around his neck once more. He really was here. You had him again.

“Hey, why don’t we go take a bath?” you asked.

“A bath?”

“Yeah. I love you babe, but your hair kinda looks gross right now.”

“Oh,” he chuckled softly into your shoulder. He really couldn’t argue with that. It had been a few days since he had showered. Since he got out of bed even, besides quick trips to the bathroom.

“Come on,” you said, kissing him on the cheek before standing and helping him up, “Let’s get cleaned up and relax.”

Taking your hand, Mammon followed behind you as you led the way to the bathroom. This sort of thing would normally make him a flustered, blushing mess. But right now all he could think about was how amazing you were, and how good it would feel to hold you again. It had been so, so long since he had felt your skin against his. And he was desperate for your touch.

————

Reclining in the tub, Mammon leaned back against your chest, his eyes closed as he focused on the sensation of your hands just stroking his arms and shoulders. Occasionally he’d feel your lips on his neck, as you peppered him with kisses. It was the most relaxed he had been in months, and he was on the verge of falling asleep at any moment.

Everything was just so peaceful. It was like all that anxiety, and loneliness, and fear from before had never happened. Like it was some sort of bad dream that he had finally managed to awaken from. He was now safe in your arms, right where he belonged.

You watched as a soft smile spread across Mammon’s face, the sight of which made your heart warm. You were so incredibly thankful that you had made it in time. If things had taken longer...if Solomon hadn’t replied to his messages...you didn’t want to even think about that. It was too close for comfort for you.

But now that he was here, you were determined to wash away all his worries. You knew it would take time of course, you knew that better than anyone, but at least you were together now and the stress of your separation wouldn’t be adding to his pain. Now you could just reach out and touch him when you needed some reassurance. And he could hold you close when he felt alone.

You knew by the time morning rolled around, Lucifer would have noticed Mammon’s absence. You wondered how long it would actually take him to figure out he was with you. Once he did find out, you were sure you would be in for a long lecture, but you didn’t care. He could yell and threaten you all he wanted. It wouldn’t make a difference to you. You had Mammon with you again. And this time, you weren’t letting him go.

MAMMON’S POV IN PART TWO

#gn!mc #happy endings #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicide #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me comfort #mammon fanfic #mammon angst #mammon comfort

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razorblade180 · 3 years ago

Text

Shackles 10: Beasts

[part 9]

“You know I’m really getting tired of walking through hot rocky deserts.”

“Yang, you’re the last person I want to hear complain about the heat.” Ilia grunted. “Just be thankful we aren’t in Menagerie.”

“We marched through it yesterday for a couple days.”

“Oh….well then stop complaining! Dawn has barely broke and Vacou is marginally less hot. These two know what I’m talking about.”

Blake and Jacquelyn remained silent. Both were lost in thought, mentally preparing for what was ahead. Ilia clicked her tongue. She looked at the spot marked on her map to make sure she hadn’t messed up the directions.

Blake could hear her teammate’s heartbeats as they walked. Jacquelyn might’ve been quiet but her heartbeat was faster than a hummingbird. Yang’s beat like a steady drum while Ilia’s, well, it was actually calm. Not a beat of worry. Blake was envious.

“What I wouldn’t give to be calm like you.”

Ilia looked back at her briefly before looking onward. “There’s nothing you have to give. Last time I checked we were taught to be calm by the same person. Though I guess…it was more of a quiet rage. He had that in common with my parents.”

“Has.” Jacquelyn corrected. “And I wouldn’t say his rage was quiet. Sometimes it felt like he could only scream into the wind.”

Yang raised her brow. “Wasn't that annoying? Concerning even?”

“Rage doesn’t do well bottled up. Should I have been concerned and annoyed when you yelled at me?”

“I…that is…” Yang sighed, giving up on a response.

“Rage like this can’t be solved immediately with wimpy meditation practices or a stress ball. Better to shout in a nameless desert than to go around breaking things. Anyways, that hasn’t happened in awhile. Adam has been lost in thought lately more than anything. Now that’s concerning. Being alone with your thoughts is risky business. I’m sure we all agree on that.”

Ilia stopped walking as she made it over a dune. “I don’t know. Thoughts are probably the best thing in a place like that.” She points down towards a lone rock plateau with a tattered wooden mineshaft entrance.that’s blocked by debris. “We made it.” Blake and Jacquelyn said nothing as they began walking ahead of her. Small talk was over.

Yang took a deep breath. She was never one to be nervous about situations like these. Being a huntress meant you saw some disturbing things by nature, but that didn’t stop the air itself from feeling dead. Blake described the scent as a slaughter house earlier. Somehow, Yang could tell she was right. “We ready for this? Who knows what is waiting for us inside.”

“Ready as we’ll ever be. Ilia will stand guard outside. We don’t want them knowing our numbers fully or any backup arriving. You and Jacquelyn back me up while I take the lead.”

“Works for me. But…” Yang approached the entrance and pressed up against a support beam, widening the entrance as debris crumbled out of the way. “That’s better. I’d rather have a quick escape instead of a squeeze through when things get loud, because it’s definitely going to.”

Blake smiled. “Quiet was never your thing anyways, but remember, this is a dust mine. Dried up or not, let’s not shoot anything immediately.” Blake walked in with her swords ready. Jacquelyn followed second with Wilted Rose on her hip.

Yang gave Ilia a wink before following the other two. The shaft didn’t take long before it started sloping down into darkness. A problem for anyone not hanging out with a faunus with great eyesight, or a girl whose hair glows like a torch on command. Normally that would be a benefit, but it made things all the more uneasy for Yang.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too dark in here? I mean…I don’t think the guards themselves could see; unless…” she trailed off. Breaking their focus was the last thing she wanted, but Yang was certain they already knew. Step by step the cave expanded. Water dripped down to the pools below. Faint clinging metal grew louder while Yang’s light revealed rusted cell bars, chains, and mining tools. A thick, potent odor hung in the air so intensely that it made swallowing difficult.

“Don’t look inside, not yet.” Jacquelyn uttered, holding back her gagging.

Blake marched forward. “Smell getting to you?”

“It’s not the stench that makes me want to hurl.”

At last they reached the end of the holding area to reach another passageway. Light curved through it and Blake’s pace slowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hear people. Dozens of them. Workers and…the rest.”

Jacquelyn’s eyes glowed. “Then what are we waiting f-”

“They aren’t moving. Everyone’s just…” Blake approached cautiously, crouched and weary. A knot festered deep inside her. Tears she restrained kept fighting to the surface the closer she got to turning the corner until Blake finally came around. In front of her was the main area. Faunus of every kind stuffed into this giant chasm. Men, women, and children bound in shackles all over the place while guards over watched them; yet nobody was working. They all were watching a man on a platform make another example of the very person that brought them here. Without thinking, Blake spoke.

“A-Adam…?” She said barely above a whisper, yet all heard her in the deathly quiet chamber.

Guards and prisoners alike turned to her in surprise. Jacquelyn and Yang came in soon after with their own look of shock at what they were witnessing. Tired, dread, shock, pain, terror, rage, lifelessness; so many expressions stared at the three from the prisoners who cowarded and guards that pulled weapons.

“Halt. Let’s not be too hasty.” Sobek said, turning around to view his arrival. They couldn’t help but notice his white lab coat stained in red that matches the curved knife he currently wiped on his sleeve. “My goodness. Well isn’t this quite the surprise. I should’ve known catching a big fish and the fact some of my men hadn't returned in a while meant someone was gonna come knocking on my door, but my wildest dreams didn’t think it would be you. Ms. Blake Belladonna, welcome to Purgatory. I’d shake your hand but…” he grabbed Adam by the hair to lift his battered face, but that was tame compared to the gashes and massive bruises that riddled his body in red and purple. “I’ve been pretty busy.” He lit Adam’s head droop limply again.

Overwhelmed, neither Blake or Jacquelyn could speak. The two had yet to shake the shock of it all. As for Yang, she chose to break formation and get in front of both of them. “Why?” That’s all she could ask. That’s all there was to ask. Yang was so caught up by the horrific sight before her that she failed to realize her eyes had long abandoned their lilac color.

Sobek smiled at her. “What’s this, a human? Well I suppose wonders never cease. Caring humans do exist but to find one here is both shocking and unfortunate. You see these monsters before you aren’t worth your compassion. Every last one of them are affiliated and conspired with the very group that poisons the world you and I cherish.”

“That does not answer the question! Why the hell are you hunting people?”

“Animals! How many times do I-” He took a breath, composing himself. “These animals do nothing but spread misery, breed hate. They teach it to their vermin and drag the good faunus through the mud! Just like they did with my daughters! The White Fang aren’t faunus. They’re animals that need to be tamed; and the ones that can’t get put down! The High Leader understands.”

Blake tensed up. All eyes shifted to her and her alone.

“It was faunus like you that showed the rotten parts. The posers and liars that threatened good names. You yourself waged war against the splinter cell this filth-”

“Let him go.” Blake finally spoke. Her voice trembled. The taste of iron hit her mouth as her teeth clenched and pupils constricted. “Let them all go, right now!” She yelled.

The charisma the man held faded. “Excuse me? S…Surely you’re not defending them?”

“And why wouldn’t I!? This…it’s sick. In what right mind does any of this make sense? All you’re doing is hurting people.”

“They get what they deserve.”

“AND WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE!?” Blake could feel her blood boil. Her nail pierced skin and she could feel her heart pound. “I don’t give a damn what your reasons are. I don’t care if anyone in here took lives. This is not how things work. You don’t get to decide others' lives, especially after this!”

“You stand here before me and defend the likes of Adam Taurus, terrorist?”

“I defend life.” Blake pointed her sword towards the man. “I defend change, no matter how bleak!”

“……I see. So you're a beast after all. Then mourn for them.” Sobek withdrew his hospitality, and then snapped his fingers. The guards took their weapons, then went for the prisoners to immediately beat, stab, and shoot whoever.

Yang wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Before she could even act, Blake had let out a scream of pure anger, leaping through the air to Sobek while a trail of tears were left behind. The scientist had made a mad dash towards a metal down with Blake in pursuit.

“Blake!? Don’t go alo-shit!” Yang dove back into the passage they came from to avoid gunfire. “Damn it all!” Yang readied her for a shoot out when the sound of lightning rattled her ears, followed by the sound of several yells before silence returned. Yang looked out and found gunmen on the floor, Jacquelyn walking by them.

The maiden said nothing. Her goal was a simple one and if she was honest with herself, everything else was white noise at the moment. Wind lifted her up to Adam’s platform. Jacquelyn gripped the shackles that strung him up, freezing them until they shattered like glass. His body fell onto hers and she fell to her knees. The world gave Jacquelyn her fair share of tragedy, but this was too cruel to comprehend. His face was so swollen the skin was purple, his good eye swelled shut. Blood leaked and clotted all over his torso and back from stabs, gashes, shocks, and the broken bones.

“Adam?” She uttered, but no response was given. She leaned down to hear the faintest sign of breathing and a weak beating heart. What should’ve sparked hope only made her cry. They had kept him conscious through so much and now his body…

Guards begin to circle around them aim their guns. “Don’t move! Step-” the guard couldn’t even finish his demands before letting out a strained cough as the rock wall behind him shot out like a spear through him.

“I’ll kill you.” Jacquelyn lifted her head, making all the guards shake in fear of her glowing tear filled eyes. The wind picked up around her and the air began to freeze. “I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU!”

“FIRE!” The guards shot into blistering winds that cut and carved the area around their target, firing back ice and imposing the pressure of her storm to the point the entire cavern shook.

“Give me a break. So much for dust safety.” Yang ran through the area, punching and shooting unsuspecting enemies caught up in the whirlwind of dust as she made her way to prisoners; tearing apart chains and yanking them out of walls. “If you can walk then help those who can’t!” She shot falling debris from afar that nearly blocked the exit. “Hey! You’re going to bury us!” Yang’s words didn’t reach the emotional woman holding her partner. Yang looked around frantically. Guards still poured in, some tried escaping, and others ran to where Blake left. All while prisoners either ran for safety or layed dying; beyond the limit of what they could take. “C’mon, act Xiao Long. Act!”

Her feet moved without thinking. Yang didn’t know how this was going to end but if she wanted the best then she’d have to reach for it with her own hands. If that meant rushing head first into a snow storm then so be it. Her hair ignited into pure flames and her clothes kindled like dying embers. Yang lunged right into the dome of wind to grab Jacquelyn.

“Jackie, get a grip! People need us right now. We’ll all die here if this keeps up.” She put her hands on the sides of Jackie's face. “Hey hey hey, look at me.”

Jacquelyn looked Yang in the eye. “He…He’s dying.” Her hands pressed against open wounds. Fire and ice sealed and cauterized wounds but what good it did was unclear.

“Adam’s a stubborn bastard. He cheated death before and he’ll do it again.”

“But-”

“I will take care of Adam! I promise.” Yang put her hands on Jacquelyn’s. “You take care of the guards following their boss and back up Blake. I hate to say it but I don’t like my odds going through that door, so I’ll get these people out. Okay?”

“E…Even if I barrel through them all I don’t know if I can handle-”

“They’re… weak.” Adam mumbled, gaining their attention. He could barely see or move but managed to move his hands enough to grab Jackie’s. “All mutilated, barely trained; but insane. Sobek, he… Atlas.” He coughed blood.

“Adam!”

“Just…grab Blake.” His consciousness faded in and out. However, Adam managed to squeeze Jackie’s hand for reassurance before going silent.

“Well you heard the guy. Though if you do see a chance to grab the bastard…”

“Oh you don’t have to tell me twice.” Jacquelyn was hesitant but gave Adam to Yang. She finally stood up, gripping the hilt of the crimson blade on her. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” With one fluid motion she drew the blade while channeling her magic. A fierce and single slash cut through the wind; pushing it out with force that pushed everyone while the attack cut the metal door down. Jacquelyn didn’t delay any further in doing what she was asked. Yang put Adam on her back best she could. Thankfully he was able to wrap his arms over her shoulders.

“Do me a favor and don’t fall off.”

“Do me a favor and don’t get me shot.”

Yang groaned. Of all the people she had to save. Right on que, bullets flew their way. Time to head out. Yang did her best to run with the extra baggage. Adam honestly wasn’t too heavy but that wasn’t a good thing realistically. Chances are he hasn’t eaten much in days. If it wasn’t for the swelling then the man’s features would’ve been sunken in and pale. Yang can’t say she has compassion for him but she’d be hard pressed to believe she could idly watch if it happened right in front of her. Ruby would say that’s what makes her a hero. It was more frustrating in Yang’s opinion.

“For your sake I hope you’re worth all this trouble.” Yang kicked downed guards trying to get up from the wind blast to give others more time. “Well at the very least all these people are so I guess I should shut up about it.”

Adam did his best to look at the chaos. His vision couldn’t register faces but he saw how many people pushed and rushed over one another. Though one of them, he couldn’t help but think about Sobek’s words and thought process. It was twisted, outright demented, yet one part of it held true to an extent. Adam felt his ego take a hit. He led them here.

“…I got what I deserve.”

“Tsk, if you ask me you’ve only gotten a piece of it. How you get rest isn’t for me to decide, thank goodness. If I were you I’d start thinking on how-”

“Cells.” He interrupted. “Don’t leave without opening the cells.”

“Huh? Most looked empty or wore silent. No one even came up to bars.”

“A girl, Jasmine, she should be there. Brother too.”

“Dude you can’t afford many detours. I’ll try but no promise we’ll find anything. I’m telling you it was quiet. Dead quiet.” Yang felt ill saying that last part. “What kind of person does this to kids? Can’t imagine a childhood like this.”

Adam’s grip tightened. “I can.”

After a few more minutes of letting stragglers go first and looking out for danger, Yang left the cavern. Defending everyone was a Dream already killed before it could start and she promised to look after Adam so taking her time wasn’t an option. “Do you know what cell?”

“I was strung up on a platform.”

“A no would’ve been fine.” Yang started checking one at a time, punching in doors just in case. It was far too dark to see completely in them otherwise. “Uhh Jasmine? Hello?” She kept looking again and again but no one answered. Yang was about to cut her losses until she heard hissing when a prisoner bumped into a set of bars. “Jasmine?”

No one answered. Yang grabbed the bars and hissing turned to growling. There was definitely someone in there. She busted open the door and stepped in, lighting a section of the area. A gasp escaped her lips at the sight of blood soaked dirt. Pale eyes glowed in the corner. Yang stepped closer carefully until the girl could no longer hide in the dark. A maple skinned girl covered in dirt, sweat, and blood crouched low with eyes as scary as Blake’s; her teeth gritted while the volume of her growl grew louder with her soiled white ears folded back. Yang was easily in no real danger, yet the glare on her was startling. This little girl clearly was ready to kill if need be.

Yang got low. “H-Heeey. Sssshh It’s okay. I’m gonna- ah!” Yang winced. Jacquelyn lunged forward and sunk her teeth into Yang’s good hand. Yang didn’t lose composure. She reached out with her other hand, rubbing the child’s face. “Feel better? Hehe, let’s get you outta here.”

Jasmine tried biting deeper but was caught off guard by a third hand resting on her head. Her eyes widened once she realized Adam was one the woman’s back. Her jaw loosened up and the rage turned into grief.

“Jasmine, where’s-”

“Adam…?” Yang said, staring to the right. Her light didn’t reach the other side of the cell but it was enough to make a trail of blood and limp arm visible. The two went silent again. Adam pulled Jasmine closer until she climbed up on him, clinging for life as she began to whimper against his back. Yang let her hair fade out and then left, walking through the dark. She didn’t want to see another second in this place.

xxxx

Jacquelyn wasn’t much of a better time. Unlike the rest of Purgatory, everything past the medal door reminded her of Atlesian research labs. Including the defenses. Around every corner was an annoyance. Two armed guards tried getting the jump on her but were quickly outmatched. Jacquelyn froze the first with ice breath while the second tried taking a swing at her. Catching the fist, Jacquelyn twisted the guard's arm and pinned her against the wall; draining what aura she could in the process before pressing on. Jacquelyn was thankful Yang calmed her down when she did. Expending more energy like that would've been bad in her condition. Jacquelyn felt like she was running on fumes.

“I can see why my mom never gave me siblings. Gotta make this quick before I’m the one who’ll need saving.” More enemies marched from behind, forcing her to run through the sterile hallways. On the way a trail of several guards were already taken out that led to a bigger group of struggling men. Jacquelyn could make out a pissed off Blake in the middle of it all.

“LET ME GO!” Blake headbutted the one restraining her right arm and swung at the ones in front of her. A burst of strength rushed through her. She gripped the guard on her left arm, flinging them across the room. Blake swiveled around to aim at the ones behind her but Jacquelyn was quicker on the draw. Adam’s signature gun already riddled two with wounds while the blade cut down three more.

“Where’s Sobek?”

“He keeps heading deeper in.” Blake pointed at the scientist’s fallen scales and light trail of blood. “I tried taking a shot but I kept getting swarmed.” Blake noticed the pack behind Jacquelyn and tried running but was immediately grabbed by the wrist. “Jacquelyn!?”

“It’s a trap. We both know that.”

“We’ve known that from the jump. If we corner him then-” Blake and Jacquelyn shot past each other at the same time before standing back to back. Jacquelyn slammed her hand on the ground and conjured ice walls to by time. “Damnit! There’s no end!”

“Yeah…let’s retreat.”

“What!? But you’re the one-”

“I know! Believe me, I know. Honestly I want to tell you I came here to back you up but Yang offered to take Adam to safety in exchange for yours.”

Blake’s eyes widened. “Yang…offered?”

“Truth be told, I think it was more self preservation than kindness. Listen I don’t want to get blown up again but Sobek seems like the type to let it all burn when things fall apart. I told you that you’d find your answer when we arrive. Don’t tell me it was to get angry and die?”

“……” Blake shut her eyes and took a breath. It didn’t help. If anything her heart felt like it was beating faster. Pent up frustration gnawed away at her so much she couldn’t stop shaking. Her grip was so tight around Gamble Shroud her hands threatened to bleed. “What did you say earlier outside, about screaming when you’re enraged?”

Jacquelyn chuckled. “We’re well past that point. Don’t tell Adam but I think we should break some shit. Lucky for us we have volunteers. Care for a violent escape?”

Blake turned away from the path deeper into the lab and faced Jacquelyn’s direction, listening to reason. “Back me up. I’d feel guilty if your baby got hurt.”

Now that was an offer Jacquelyn couldn’t refuse. Blake’s kindness managing to shine even while in this situation was something Jacquelyn could only respect. She got behind her. “I’m in your hands. Now let’s get busy.”

Jacquelyn spit the wall in front of them to funnel the lackeys in for Blake to cut loose on with her blades, performing a double cross slash into snap kick that launched one backwards into the group. Keeping on the offensive, Blake followed up with a rising knee to push them further back. A strong gust of wind from Jacquelyn helped increase the force and distance Blake went while suppressing the rest. A guard tried restraining her but only grasped the afterimage while the real one unleashed an aura slash that went through the crowd. Deep cuts engraved the wall and glass shattered. Blake tossed her blades up and went through the halls quickly guiding Jacquelyn safely to the other side.

Pressure filled the air. A dense building of force rose steadily until Jacquelyn couldn’t ignore it. “Blake? What did you do-” the cuts in the wall doubled in size. An almost unseen second flash went through the hall, the blades traveling with it until stopping on a dime in front of Blake for her to grab from the hands of a clone Jacquelyn never saw materialize. It faded as quickly as it was noticed. One by one the guards adamant on killing were dropping like flies.

“A double moon slice? Heh, I guess you really are his disciple at heart.”

“In more ways than one.” Blake flung the blood off her blade while she sharpened them on one another.

“And why would you say that?” Blake looked back at her. The vacant and dim stare she gave expressed a bleak hollowing pain Jacquelyn couldn’t mistake. “Oh…well that’s okay. It just makes you one of us.”

#rwby #adam taurus #sobek #blake belladonna #ilia amitola #jacquelyn frost #yang xiao long #rwby shackles #rwby au

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tolkien-fics · 4 years ago

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White As Snow, Red As Blood 2/2

Part One

Word Count: 1,681

Pairing: None

Trigger Warnings: Toxic stepmother, attempted murder, jealousy, Indis is the evil step mother and possibly had self esteem issues.

Plot: Part 2 of 2. Based on the fairy-tale of Snow White. Reader is the younger twin sister of Feanor, and her life comes crashing down one day when Indis attempts to get rid of her. No true love shall rescue Reader, for no other love is stronger than a parents love.

A/N: So I decided to edit the ending of part one due to another idea I had, just thought I’d point it out to avoid confusion.

“Y/n, why does Feanor hate us?” Fingolfin asked. He looked like a teenager to humans, but any elf would know he had only just reached the age of fifty.

You looked up from your writing, expression sympathetic.

“He does not hate you, little brother. He just has a lot to deal with.”

Fingolfin hummed. “He always does.”

Before you had the chance to reply, you heard hurried footsteps and you was faced with Irímë. Her blond, wavy locks looking disheveled.

“Mother calls for you, Y/n!”

“Very well.” You rose from your seat and gave both of your half siblings a friendly smile. “Do not fret, you are much loved here.” You said before taking your leave.

“Y/n!” You heard Indis yell your name before you had the chance to reach the door. But it didn’t sound like she was calling from the chambers, more like the dressing quarters next door. You knocked and entered with a curtsy.

“You requested my presence, my queen?”

Indis nodded, “Yes, dear. Come closer.” She beckoned her hand.

You took a breath and approached your step mother, letting out a small gasp when she stroked your hair.

“You have grown to be a fine young lady, dear. I have something for you.” She walked to the dressing table and took a piece of ribbon.

“Your father wishes to get you a gift, a fine piece of jewellery for a lovely princess. But he needs your measurements first.” She showed you the ribbon. “Turn around.”

You did as instructed, feeling Indis places the ribbon around your neck. It was gentle at first, feeling the material adjust here and there.

But then she started pulling it tighter and tighter. You gasped for air, a hand around your throat.

“C...can’t...b...breathe.” You gasped out, eyes watering as your surroundings faded to black.

Your body fell to the floor, the ribbon coming undone. Indis waited for a few moments, nudging your body with her foot. When you didn’t move or make a sound, she screamed and ran out of the room.

“Princess Y/n fainted! She’s not breathing!”

The next time you woke up, you was surrounded by your siblings and father in your room.

Finwe breathed a sigh of relief, kissing your forehead. “My child, what happened?”

You blinked the grogginess away. “Indis...the queen...she-“. You was cut off by Finwe.

“She called for help.” He smiled at you. “She was worried for your health, you was not breathing.”

You chose not to speak of what happened, only humming and relaxing. But you couldn’t forget that she had tried to kill you.

“Sister, are you well?” Feanor entered the room, came to your side and took your hand. You couldn’t help the gentle smile.

“I’m well Feanor, thank you.” You saw him gritting his teeth, and you knew what he was thinking. That queen Indis had purposefully harmed you. Part of you agreed, but the other part of you thought that she didn’t realise her own strength and panicked.

But your mind went for the latter. Was there really any way for someone to pull that tight on accident? You wasn’t convinced, but you didn’t say a word. You wanted your father and siblings to be happy, and the news would risk that if not cause a stir.

You were kept on bed rest for the next day, healers coming and going and servants bringing you food. You would have felt lonely if Feanor didn’t continue to visit, spending all day by your side.

“I apologise for not believing you sooner, Feanor.” You apologised. “She did try to kill me.”

Feanor sighed and took your hand. “I did not believe she would stoop to such levels.”

You sighed and shook your head. “Neither did I. What did I do to offend her so?”

Feanor looked down, letting go of your hand. He walked to the window and looked down at Irímë and Finarfin playing in the courtyard.

“She is jealous. She is not good at heart like you. Atar also favours us, and always has done, though he loves our siblings.” He came to a quick conclusion. “She sees you as a threat.”

“What can I do about it?” You asked your twin brother, watching his movements as you sat up in bed.

“You could go to King Thingol and Queen Melian.” He suggested. “Though, Atar will be worried when he discovers your disappearance.”

You hummed, “What if we get Atar to call them here? We could explain the issue to them. Surely they are more likely listen to us.” You spoke, lying back down in bed. “I fear what Indis will do next.”

Feanor instantly came to your side, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

After a lot of convincing, Finwë invited King Thingol and Queen Melian to the Kingdom from Doriath. Along with them came Lúthien, an elvish child not much younger than Findis.

You and your siblings lined up in the hall, Finwë and Indis sat on their throne. In time, you all bowed to the royal visitors.

“It is an honour to be of your acquaintance.” Feanor spoke up.

“Oh, your children are lovely, your majesty.” Melian said with a king smile.

“Thank you very much. As is Lúthien, Queen Melian.”

Thingol took in your appearance and smiled. “Your daughter is the image of the late Queen Miriel.”

Indis scowled from her throne at you upon hearing those words, becoming even more jealous when Finwë agreed.

It was nearing dinner, and you decided to sit and have a conversation with Melian while Thingol was talking with your father, and Lúthien spending time with your half siblings.

“She is out to kill me, your majesty.” You said, letting out a breath you didn’t know you was holding. “She choked me with a ribbon, she was nearly the cause of my demise. Please Queen Melian, help me.”

Melian listened with sympathy, “I can certainly keep an eye out. She may not do so in the presence of company. But if she does so, the Valar will punish her dearly.”

You hoped she was right.

Two days had come and gone rather quickly. Indis didn’t say a word to you, or acknowledge your presence. The queen was annoyed that Thingol and Melian were around, as she couldn’t find a way to remove herself from their conversations. Her rage stewed in the pit of her stomach.

On the third day, she gave into the extreme emotions with a plan.

As your step-mother made her way down silent corridors and stairs, she scowled to herself.

“I need to rid of that brat, Y/n.” She growled, fists clenched.

Indis went to the basement where she knew she wouldn’t be caught. In her hand she held a blood red apple, in the other a vial of poison.

“This time there will be no mistakes.” She didn’t hesitate to pour the poison on the apple.

It was nearing dinner, and you already felt hungry for a light snack after studying in the library. You headed to the kitchens, smiling at the servants.

“Princess.” The cook bowed when he saw you enter.

“It smells good.” You sniffed the air with a grin. “Have you got a little snack?”

The cook chuckled, “There’s some apples in the basket on the table.”

You spotted the ripe, red apples in the basket. They must have been freshly picked, and the smell was divine. You picked one up, and took a bite as you made your move towards the door.

As soon as you chewed and swallowed, you felt your throat closing up. You dropped the apple, gasping for air as you struggled. You heard voices calling out, but they sounded distant, fading out to nothing as you fell lifeless.

“Enchanting mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of the land?” Indis asked while brushing her hair. She had just heard the news that you was found, the healers presumed you as good as dead.

“Though Y/n was fair, she breathes no more. You, my queen, are the fairest of all.”

Indis laughed, “That is better.”

Your body was placed on your bed, hands positioned to hold a bouquet of roses. Finwë had been crying over you, his eyes blood shot. He wouldn’t allow his children in the room, he didn’t want them to see. But he did make them aware of your passing.

“May I enter?” Melian’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. Finwë could only make a sound, sobs threatening to come up again.

She took this as a yes and quickly entered the chambers, closing the door behind her. “Y/n confided to me before her passing that Queen Indis was planning to kill her.”

“That isn’t possible.” The king snapped.

“Or maybe it is, and you wish to let it be.” Melian added. “Y/n told me of the attempted assassination. Indis tried to kill her before, with a ribbon.”

Finwë took a few moments to think while he stroked your hair. Yes, it was all starting to make sense. How Indis has grown hateful of you as you grew, how his wife would disappear and not long after you had been in harms way.

He broke down, allowing his tears to flow freely. “I am sorry, my child!” He wept, mentally begging Eru and the Valar to forgive him for his ignorance.

“I love you, Y/n. My sweet child.” He sniffled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Melian stood by and watched, bowing her head in respect. Being a Maia, she knew that it was not your time to leave for the halls of Mandos.

Finwë didn’t seem to notice your slight movements, the flowers falling off the bed as you moved. When he met your gaze, and it registered in his mind that your eyes were open, did he take you into a strong hug.

“Atar!” You giggled, returning the hug. How he longed to hear your voice again.

“My daughter, you are alive.” He rocked back and forth while holding you.

“What of Indis?” You asked.

“She won’t hurt you again.” Was all Finwë managed to say through his joyful crying.

#the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #lotr elves #lotr x reader #middle earth #middle earth x reader #finwe #feanor #indis #fingolfin #findis #thingol #melian #luthien #irime #feanors sister #twin sister of feanor

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ceaderblocks · 4 years ago

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The Devil’s in the Details, Chapter 8

the final chapter

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 //

find on a03 here

Scar was in the End. He had never seen the End like this, an empty stretch of End Stone that went on in every direction with nothing else in sight.

“We had a deal.” Oscar snarled, and Scar turned around to face them. They stood a few meters away, a gleaming diamond sword in their hand.

“You were going to build those damn towers, and I’d give your Vex power back.”

“You said you weren’t going to hurt my friends. I was building the towers, and you hurt them anyways.” Scar said. He reached into his inventory to look for a weapon. There was nothing.

“You were taking too long. People kept interfering.”

“You were never going to leave us alone, were you?” Scar said, coming to a realization. Oscar snarled, their eyes glowing in the dark of the End. “You were just using me as a cover.”

“Congratulations,” Oscar spat, gripping the sword tighter. “You figured it out. Unfortunately for you, there’s no prize.”

“Are you even part of the Void?” Scar asked, trying to delay the inevitable fight. He had no armor or weapon; he would be killed in an instant. He needed a plan.

“I’m worse than the Void,” Oscar stalked forwards, and Scar tripped on his feet walking backwards to avoid them getting closer. “I’m the pure magic of the Vex and the End. I’m the worst of both in one form. I’m going to rule them both, and I am going to rule you and your stupid, bullshit overworld too. I don’t serve anyone but myself, unlike you weak players, who are subject to the whim of magic.”

“I don’t understand,” Scar said, still backing up. “Why didn’t you just take over?”

“I needed that Void Walker and ConVex to disperse of their human vessels. You were the perfect opportunity when Void and Vex met to interact with the over-world.”

Scar tripped on a rock, falling onto his back. Hitting the ground hard, Scar found himself straddled and a sword to his throat within moments. Breathing heavily, Scar turned his head away, trying to avoid its sharp point.

“Xisuma will be here soon,” Scar said. “My friends will help me, even if you kill me.”

“They won’t be coming,” Oscar hissed. “There’s no magic here. They can’t find us.”

Scar’s eyes widened. Oscar was a being of magic. If there was none here, that meant that Oscar was as tangible and vulnerable as Scar was!

Scar took in Oscar’s being for a quick moment. There was sweat on their brow, and they were breathing heavily. Scar noted that Oscar was shaking ever-so-slightly as well. Scar quickly made his move, elbowing Oscar in the face as hard as he could and then shoving them off his body. Oscar cried out, clutching their nose and crumpling to the side, leaving Scar to escape. Stumbling to his feet, Scar snatched the sword from the ground, spinning around to face Oscar. His doppelgänger was still on the ground, their lungs heaving with pain and anger. Wiping the blood from their face, Oscar stood, scowling. They drew a secondary sword from their inventory, just as sharp as the first. Oscar readied himself, shifting his balance to be sturdier. Blood streamed from their nose, and Scar was sure he had broken it.

With no warning taunt, Oscar flung themselves towards Scar. The flat edge of the sword

hit Scar’s ribs, knocking the breath from him. Still standing, Scar swung his own weapon, cutting across Oscar’s chest.

“Shit!” They gasped. The wound was shallow but long. Scar winced. He hadn’t seen that much blood in a long time.

Despite this thought, Scar didn’t pause for long. Lunging forwards, metal sung against metal as the swords met. The weapons locked in an cross shape, Scar could see the fear in Oscar’s eyes.

He’s never been vulnerable before. Scar realized. Remembering his promise to Cub, Scar grit his teeth. He hated to admit it, but he’d rather see Oscar bleeding then see Cub injured.

Oscar broke the crossed lock and thrust forwards, making a wild stab at Scar. Scar easily sidestepped the attack, bringing his sword down and lunging forwards, this time slicing Oscar’s right arm.

Crying out in pain, Oscar made another unhinged swipe, missing completely. They stepped forwards, lunging again, and Scar parried his attack.

“Fuck you!” Oscar said, panting heavily. The two wounds they had sustained were bleeding heavily. Scar suspected they wouldn’t stop bleeding without medical attention.

“I can get you medical help, but you have to promise to leave us alone.” Scar said. “You’re really injured.”

“I don’t want your help,” Oscar scowled. They were pale. “I want you dead.”

Scar inhaled sharply. He didn’t want to kill anyone, especially when there was no resurrection out here. He didn’t have much of a choice.

Oscar swung his weapon desperately, missing Scar again. Scar stepped behind Oscar, shifting his stance to ground himself. Oscar turned and laughed.

Scar took a steadying breath, inhaling deeply.

“You really think you can stop me?” Oscar screamed. “I am everything! I am the Void! I am the Vex! I am everything you pathetic hermits want to be! I am the sun, I am the stars-“

Scar exhaled.

“-I am the source of all magic! I am in your dreams; I am your future! I am the End! I am- “

Oscar choked as Scar’s sword ran through him.

“Sorry.” Scar whispered.

The sword in Oscar’s chest made a disgusting noise as it was pushed further. Oscar didn’t make a noise when they fell to the ground, the sickening thump ringing through Scar’s head. Scar had been expecting some dramatic speech, or a curse. He had expected screaming or sobbing or <em> something </em> when Oscar was defeated, not a quiet, dead body. The lack of retorts and breath made the silence of the End much more unnerving then it used to be. Scar decided he hated it, and the bloodied sword slipped from his hand.

< BadTimesWithScar was slain by GoodTimesWithScar >

< XisumaVoid teleported to GoodTimesWithScar >

“Scar!” Xisuma cried out, racing towards his friend.

“You know,” Scar didn’t take his eyes off Oscar’s body. “I kinda expected them to respawn. It’d be just my luck, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you hurt?”

Scar shook his head. Xisuma noticed he was pale.

“Are you alright?”

Scar shook his head again, ripping his eyes off the lifeless form. Stumbling a few steps backwards, the gravity of what he had done finally settled in Scar’s mind. He vomited onto the ground, tears rolling down his face.

“Oh my God,” Scar dropped to his knees. “I killed them.”

“Scar, it’s okay.” Xisuma dropped to his side, wrapping his arms around Scar and gently turning him away.

“I killed them! I killed-“ Scar took a heavy, shuddering gasp.

“Scar, you had to. There was no other way.” Xisuma said, pulling Scar in close. “It was self-defence.”

“Please don’t ban me!” Scar begged. “I didn’t mean to kill them!”

“I won’t.” Xisuma said, “You’ve done nothing wrong. They were going to kill you.”

“I killed them.” Scar said, his breath heaving, and Xisuma began to realize that Scar wasn’t really listening to him. “I killed them.”

Xisuma turned his gaze to the corpse lying on the ground a few feet away, blood staining the EndStone.

“I killed them.” Scar said again, as if repeating the words would make them hurt any less.

“Yeah,” Xisuma agreed. “You did.”

Scar leaned into Xisuma, falling quiet. Xisuma wanted to get out of the End as soon as possible, but allowed his friend a moment to collect himself. A loud crash made Xisuma and Scar jump.

“They’re back?” Scar said, scrambling to his feet.

“No,” Xisuma said, inhaling sharply and pointing to a spot a few meters away. “The End is falling apart!”

Where there had once been endless endstone there were now gaping holes in the land. The void could be seen through it, as unforgiving as ever. Loud crashes and bangs filled the air as the ground beneath them began to crumble away.

“Scar, we need to go! This section hasn’t loaded, and now it’s falling apart!” Xisuma shouted, running to his left to avoid falling with the ground.

“Xisuma-“ Scar reached out, and the Admin watched in horror as the ground beneath Scar fell out. The builder didn’t scream as he plummeted, to sheep shocked to do anything.

“Scar!” Xisuma shouted, and whipped out his administration screens, quickly typing in a command. He then jumped into the Void, praying he’d catch Scar. His armor was heavier than Scar’s clothing, and it allowed him to sink faster.

“Scar!” He shouted again, reaching out. “Grab my hand!”

Scar shouted something back, tears flying from his eyes. The builder reached forwards, and their fingertips brushed. The cold of the Void was starting to sink into Xisuma’s skin, and he knew Scar was hurting worse than we was. A few more moments and they’d both be dead.

“Dammit!” Xisuma cried, reaching out as far as he could. Scar tried to reach out as well, ice creeping over his fingers. Xisuma fired a rocket from his belt and—

< XisumaVoid and GoodTimeWithScar teleported to Cubfab135 >

---

Cub, by some miracle, was not dead.

Sure, he had died, but he wasn’t dead, which was surprising. With Oscar’s weird-ass abilities and the fact that he had bled Cub thought he perma-died. But he hadn’t. And now Cub didn’t really know what to do.

“I even had cool last words,” Cub huffed, not really annoyed he was alive.

“Cub?” A voice yelled from outside. “Yo, are you alive?”

“Ex?” Cub called out, sitting up. He winced, phantom pain throbbing where he had been stabbed.

Not dead, Cub noted. but also not unscathed.

“Holy shit! You’re alive!” Ex threw open the front door, racing in and grabbing Cub roughly by his arms. “Wow! Thank God! I don’t know how to plan a funeral.”

“I believe we have bigger problems than a funeral.” Cub said, wiggling his way out of Ex’s grip. “We need to find Scar and help him.”

“Yeah, so small problem,” Ex said. “Dickface took Scar to some remote corner of the End, and then cut out all magic… which includes any Admin abilities.”

“Xisuma can’t get to him,” Cub said, inhaling sharply and throwing his feet over the edge of his bed.

“Yeah, Scar is on his own.” Ex frowned. “Where is Xisuma? He was right behind me.”

A loud ping from the communicators on their hips drew their attention.

< BadTimesWithScar was slain by GoodTimesWithScar >

< XisumaVoid teleported to GoodTimesWithScar >

“He survived?” Ex said, sounding impressed.

“He killed Oscar,” Cub said, breathless.

Cub’s eyes widened, horrified. Was he bleeding out? Almost dead? Trapped in some weird, End induced coma that he would never be able to leave?

< XisumaVoid and GoodTimesWithScar teleported to Cubfab135 >

The train of thought was Interrupted with Scar and Xisuma crashing from a portal into the room.

Xisuma was carrying most of Scar’s weight, the builder awake but unresponsive. The were both shivering, and Cub could see the ice from the Void melting on Scar. Cub inhaled sharply, seeing that Scar was covered in blood. Cub stumbled from his bed and opened his bedside chest, pulling out potions of healing and bandages.

“Put him on the bed Xisuma, I need to bandage his wounds!”

“I’m not hurt.” Scar said quietly, refusing to look at anyone while speaking. He rubbed his hands along his arms, trying to warm himself up.

“There’s blood on you,” Cub said frantically, “Are you sure-”

“It’s not mine.” Scar mumbled, and the room froze. Even Ex was at a loss for words, looking uncomfortable with the idea that Scar had actually killed Oscar. Blood wasn’t present unless it was permanent.

“We should sit you down anyways,” Xisuma said gently, breaking the silence. Scar nodded, seemingly off in another world.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and Cub quietly put the bandages and potions away while Ex and Xisuma had a hushed conversation, something about restoring the balance and a deal they made. Cub didn’t really care, his friend being the main concern.

“Scar,” Cub said, sitting on the bed. Scar blinked a few times, and turned his attention to Cub. “Thank you.”

Scar’s eyes welled with tears, and a few slipped down his face. Cub pulled his friend into a tight hug, letting his friend cry. There wasn’t much else he could do.

---

Settling back into routine took a long time. Explaining to the other Hermits what had happened was an ordeal in itself, filled with questions and many, many concerns.

(Doc had asked Xisuma to bring Oscar back so he could kill him again. Xisuma had declined.)

The mood of Hermits had changed as well. The idea of someone being permanently offed made them all more cautious to death. Inventories were always stacked with potions, and rarely was anyone alone.

Scar, however, was never alone. After sleeping for an entire week, he began building again. Xisuma and Ex had cleared the dark buildings that Oscar had made, doing their best to avoid leaving gaping holes where they had once been.

Cherry was still non-existent, and Scar had been finishing fixing his portal when Cub had dragged him to the shopping district.

“Cub, why are we here? Do you need help building a new shop?” Scar asked, walking alongside his friend.

“No, I just want to show you a new one.”

“Oh, whose it is?” Scar asked, confused. “You don’t usually show me new shops.”

“Actually,” A new voice said, and Scar frowned in confusion as Grian came up from behind and threw an arm around his shoulders. “It’s yours!”

“Tada!” Grian said, spinning Scar around to face the newly built Cherry.

“Oh my gosh.” Scar said, covering his mouth as Iskall and Mumbo lit a concerning amount of fireworks.

Before him stood Cherry, identical to how it had been before it had been destroyed. Scar walked up to the entrance, running a hand along the wood.

“We even restocked it for you!” Iskall said, patting Scar on the back and then walking past to open a chest. Peaking into it, Scar saw that it was filled with redstone.

“This is amazing,” Scar said, breathless. “Thank you.”

“And the best part,” Grian said cheerfully, “is that the only payment is that you have to shop at Sahara for the rest of your life!”

“Grian!” Mumbo scolded. “We talked about this!”

“Dude, you were the only one who said we should do it for free! You were outvoted.” Iskall said.

Scar burst out into laughter.

“Hey! I’m not joking.” Grian chided, failing to keep a large smile off his face. Mumbo looked horrified.

“He’s joking,” Mumbo said, turning to Scar with a worried look on his face. “You’re joking, right?”

Scar smiled as Cub laughed as well.

Despite everything that had happened, Scar was going to be okay.

#ditd #my writing #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #xisumavoid #grian #mumbojumbo #hermitcraft #the devil's in the details

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elsanna-shenanigans · 4 years ago

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February Contest Submission #12: Life On Mars

words: ca. 3200 setting: Modern AU lemon: No cw: Angst, Horror Elements, Psychological Horror, Mindfuckery, Hospitals, Ancient Alien Wars

“Status update?”

“All systems nominal. Solar charge at 65%.”

Elsa looked at the screen through her glasses, the monitor displaying the rover’s current route as it made its way across the red planet. OLAV was due to be passing over an unexplored sector of the Syritis Major region of Mars today and there would no doubt be a lot of analysis and data gathering to be done. Their rover was going to be the first visitor from earth to visit this largely explored region of the red planet.

“Good, keep OLAV on his present course,” Elsa stated. “Let me know once it reaches the site.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Anna replied.

The blonde rolled her eyes. She never understood why Anna kept referring to the rover as if it was a living being. OLAV was a robot, a mindless automaton. It only knew what it was programmed to know. It wasn’t a true artificial intelligence like the ones from the science fiction movies Anna and her had both grown up with.

And yet, it was always rather cute when Anna did it. It was part of why she fell in love with her; Anna and her seemingly limitless ability to be warm and affectionate to those around her, even to a robot with no real life of its own. Elsa found that very endearing. She and Anna had been dating since college, and Elsa couldn’t have asked for anyone better to help her on this project. Working for NASA definitely was a dream come true.

Anna in particular had a hand in designing OLAV in the first place, even naming him after a cuddly snowman plushie she had back in their college days. Though of course, she justified it by clarifying OLAV stood for “Omnidirectional Lifeform Analysis Vehicle”. All the same, Elsa found it adorable.

Anna relaxed back in her chair, grinning. “So… what are the odds we’ll find life today?”

“Anna, I swear you ask that question every day,” Elsa remarked with a playful roll of her eyes.

“But it’s the question that has haunted scientists like us for centuries, Elsa,” Anna said honestly. “Is there life on Mars?

Elsa had to giggle, knowing Anna was partly quoting the David Bowie song. Her girlfriend was such a nerd and she adored her.

But so far, that particular question still hadn’t been answered. It was a known scientific fact that at one point Mars did once support a much more habitable climate, with vast lakes and rivers. However, the loss of its magnetic field had resulted in the planet becoming the red, lifeless desert it was today.

If there had been life at some point, it was probably only very basic. Some sort of bacteria or another microscopic organism. And yet, if anyone could prove that life had indeed existed on Mars at one point, it could prove that life wasn’t just confined to the little blue and green orb that was the Earth but was out there amongst the stars in all sorts of shapes and forms.

“He’s just coming up to the ridge now,” Anna said.

“How much solar charge has OLAV got left?” Elsa asked.

The redhead looked at her screen. “52%.”

“The steep incline will likely drain the power of the motors by quite a bit. As soon as the rover gets over the ridge, shut him down for the night. The sun is starting to go down.”

“Yeah, he’s earned a good night’s sleep,” Anna said with a smile. She then stared at another one of the screens, showing life camera footage from the rover. Every few seconds a new picture would appear, showing where the rover had travelled every few seconds.

So far, all Anna had seen from the pictures was red sand and large boulders as the rover travelled up the ridge. It was rather basic and yet… it had a certain beauty to it. A hellish beauty one might say.

Mars was a fascinating world, even if it was a vast desert that didn’t really have much variety in scenery. Anna and Elsa and the rest of their team were just merely the latest in a long line of scientists and scholars wanting to discover the secrets of the red planet.

“Think Mars would be a good place for a vacation?” Anna joked. “I mean, there’s lots of sun there. Bet I’d get a great tan.”

“Unless you prefer sunbathing at minus 80 degrees Fahrenheit, I don’t think so,” Elsa replied flatly.

“Minus 80? Oh, that’s perfect for an ice queen like you.”

Elsa shot Anna a look and playfully nudged her girlfriend’s arm. “Oh shut it, you.”

Anna giggled. “Okay, okay, I guess that nickname has worn out its welcome.”

“It wore its welcome the week after you started calling me that back in college,” Elsa remarked.

“Well, you used to be so closed off when you were focused on your studies,” Anna retorted, smiling in nostalgia. “You got so into your work you practically cut off all contact with the outside world… and then you met me.”

Elsa smiled, blushing. She remembered fondly the days when Anna encouraged her to get out of their dorm room and get outside on their campus. Science had always been her passion, but she hadn’t truly felt love until she met Anna.

Leaning over, Elsa gave her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. “Yes I did, and I couldn’t have been more thankful for anything else in my life.”

Anna giggled. “Should you really be making such comments to me here? We are supposed to be working right now.”

“Hey, I’m the project director here,” Elsa spoke with an air of faux haughtiness, upturning her nose slightly. “I think it gives me certain advantages.”

Anna giggled at that. Elsa smiled down at her. The two of them leaned in at that moment, almost kissing… and then something caught Anna’s eye. She blinked again, thinking whatever it was just a figment of her imagination, but no, there was indeed something unusual being projected on the screen.

“Wait… what’s that?” Anna asked.

She looked at the monitor with the live camera feed from the rover. In the corner of the screen, as the rover drove over the ridge, Anna saw a strange shape. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be a natural rock formation, but it was still too far away for Anna to see.

“You see something?”

Anna nodded and pointed at the screen. “There, right there.”

Elsa pulled down her glasses, leaning in closer. “That looks like a rock.”

“No, I don’t think it is,” Anna said quietly, eyes on the screen in focus. “It seems taller than everything else, taller than any of those other boulders…”

“Hmmm… how much charge does OLAV have left?”

“He just dipped below 45.”

“That should be just enough to get a closer look before we shut down for the night,” Elsa stated. She got up and looked across to another one of the scientists in the control room. “Kristoff, make a course adjustment. Left by about 15 degrees.”

“You got it!” The blonde man called back.

Anna looked at her screen again, seeing the camera view shift slightly as the rover altered its course. For the next few moments, she felt her heart begin to race in her chest. Was the hunch she was having correct? Was this strange object the proof mankind had always been looking for? In the next few minutes, they’d know.

Putting her hand on Anna’s shoulder, Elsa gave her a concerned look. She didn’t like to see Anna stressed like this. “Hey, relax. It might just be a rock.”

“I know… but for some reason, I don’t want it to be,” Anna admitted.

Elsa smiled. “You’re a determined one, Anna Armstrong.”

Anna merely smiled, before looking at her screen again, and then her jaw dropped. As the rover drove up closer to the strange object, Anna could see that her hunch had been right. Standing before the rover was a strange, tall structure. It was a tall obelisk, its surface covered in strange alien runes and hieroglyphs.

As Anna stared at the screen, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Right in front of her eyes was the evidence everyone had been looking for, signs of alien life. But Anna never thought they’d find something like this, an alien relic from a forgotten time.

“What in the…”

Elsa blinked. “That’s…my god, that’s it! That’s what we’ve been looking for!”

There were hurried murmurs and whispers all through the control room as the other scientists saw the image of the obelisk on their screens from the camera feed. The rover was stopped in its tracks, the camera panning up and down, giving the team back on earth a good look at every inch of the strange monument.

“So… what exactly do we do at a moment like this?” Anna asked in wonderment.

“I… I’m not sure,” Elsa said, still awestruck by the fact they had found genuine proof of alien life. After all, how else could one describe what was essentially a stone obelisk built on the surface of Mars. But that’s what indeed it was. As Elsa looked at the markings, she wondered what they meant. A warning? Some prayer to a divine being?

Looking at the screen again, Anna gazed at the strange glyphs. She couldn’t begin to understand them, but the more she looked at them, the more they seemed to be… glowing. Each of the symbols seemed to be glowing a deep, vibrant red, like the colour of blood.

The red glow seemed almost mesmerising to Anna, completely hypnotic. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t look away. As she stared more and more at the strange obelisk, she started to hear whispers in her ear, voices that clearly were not human. Deep, hissing tones that unsettled her completely.

Suddenly, the symbols flashed an even brighter red, as Anna heard the voices start screaming in her ear. Images suddenly filled her mind. Those of a vast empire that spanned what seemed to be the entire cosmos, fleets of ships that travelled to every world, a Mars very different from the one she knew, one of lakes and plant life and a beautiful green sky. And then chaos. Black, monstrous creatures that descended from the heavens, destroying everything in their path.

Anna wanted so desperately to look away from the horrific imagery she was witnessing, of the civilisation, she was witnessing being slaughtered by the black creatures, their world being utterly devastated to the point there was nothing but a red lifeless desert in its wake. Anna screamed in pain, trying to force the images from her mind, but it was no use. Her eyes were glowing bright red with alien energy and were bleeding, as was her nose and ears.

“Anna!” Elsa cried out, rushing to Anna’s side. Her girlfriend grabbed her head, screaming in agony as the alien visions were burned into her mind. Elsa grabbed ahold of Anna, holding her close. She stared at the monitor, seeing the glowing red obelisk.

“Shut the monitors down!” Elsa yelled, alarmed. “Don’t look at the obelisk!”

The other scientists did just that, shutting down each one of the computers until the room was in complete darkness. Anna was still screaming though, suffering in agony. She screamed louder, her eyes glowing the same bright red as the alien glyphs, those same glyphs flashing across her eyeballs.

Elsa felt her heart shudder in her chest, as she watched Anna, holding her close. Nothing in her life had prepared her for anything like this.

“Someone get a doctor, now!”

xXx

It was about half an hour before the ambulance arrived and Anna still hadn’t stopped screaming. By the time Anna had gotten to the hospital, she’d lost consciousness, but fortunately, she was still alive. Throughout all of it, Elsa stayed with Anna for as long as she could.

The doctors hadn’t found anything wrong with Anna, aside from some rather odd brain activity. Elsa hadn’t told them the exact reason why Anna had ended up in this way, telling them she’d merely suffered a seizure. She knew most people wouldn’t understand the truth.

As she was making her way back to Anna’s room with a cup of tea in her hand, Elsa suddenly got a phone call from Kristoff. He’d stayed behind to watch things at the control centre while Elsa escorted Anna to the hospital. She sat down outside the room, picking up her phone.

“Kristoff?” Elsa asked.

“Elsa, thank goodness,” Kristoff said, relieved. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get through to you. Some major shit just went down at the lab.”

“What?” Elsa asked. “What happened?”

“Just after you left, these guys in black suits showed up. They confiscated everything on the computers, including all the data we received from the rover. I think they might have been the FBI or something. They swore everyone to secrecy. I didn’t tell them about you and Anna though.”

Elsa sighed. It seems not only were aliens real, but so were the men in black. But she had to remain calm. Even if those government agents had taken all her data, everything she’d spent most of her life working on, her biggest priority was Anna and her safety.

“Thank you for letting me know,” Elsa responded.

“I’m so sorry, Elsa,” Kristoff told her. “I feel like I should have done something to stop them.”

“You did what you could,” Elsa said softly. “I suggest you go home and get some rest. It’s been… a really long day.”

“I’ll do that,” Kristoff nodded. “How’s Anna doing?”

Looking through the nearby window into Anna’s room, Elsa saw her girlfriend lying on the bed, motionless with an IV tube stuck in her arm. It pained her to see Anna like this. This wasn’t the first time Anna had been in the hospital since she’d known her, but she hadn’t felt this worried about her before either.

“No change in her condition,” Elsa said quietly, glancing back at her comatose lover. “The doctors can’t really explain what happened to her.”

“Damn,” Kristoff said, his face creasing in sympathy. “Well, if she does wake up, tell her I said hi, will you.”

“Sure thing,” Elsa smiled. “See you later, big guy.”

After hanging up, Elsa walked into Anna’s room, closing the curtains on the window that looked out onto the hallway. As she sat by Anna’s bed, she reached over and held her lover’s hand softly, gazing at her unconscious form lying beside her.

The room in the hospital was quiet, save for the ambience of whatever was going on in the corridors outside. As Elsa looked at Anna, she felt tears swell in her eyes. She wasn’t a religious woman by any means, but at this moment, Elsa was praying to god for Anna to make it.

Though as the hours ticked by, Elsa began to wonder if her love would ever awaken. It was at that point that Elsa started to blame herself. She was in charge of the mission and she should have stopped the rover before it approached that obelisk or perhaps she should have chosen a different route for the rover to take.

But at that point, Elsa realised that blaming herself wasn’t going to do anything, nor could she have predicted that something like this would have happened. What had been done was done and nothing could change that. All she could do now was keep hoping that all would be well again, that Anna would wake up.

Her prayers were answered.

“Elsa…” Anna croaked, barely above a whisper.

Elsa’s eyes widened, gazing at the redhead as she finally awakened from her unconsciousness. She held Anna’s hand tighter, staring into her eyes. “Anna!”

Anna looked up at her lover, her teal eyes fluttering open weakly. “W-What… Where am I?”

“In the hospital,” Elsa explained. “That weird obelisk we found on Mars did something to you. I… I was worried for a moment that you might…”

“I… I’m okay,” Anna assured her, weakly raising her hand and stroking Elsa’s cheek. The blonde sighed and touched Anna’s hand, resting her head against it.

“Do you… Do you remember what happened when you saw those glyphs?” Elsa asked. “All I saw was you looking at them and then you started screaming.”

“I… I remember now,” Anna groaned. “Oh fuck… it was horrible…”

“Easy,” Elsa placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Relax for a moment, snowflake. Just take it one step at a time. Everything is going to be okay now.”

After Anna got a drink, she explained everything to Elsa. All the images she’d seen, the voices, how horrible it all felt. Elsa couldn’t begin to fathom what Anna had seen… but she was just glad that Anna had been strong enough to recover from it, a testament to her spirit.

But the whole affair had clearly taken its toll on her girlfriend. Every time she spoke, Elsa didn’t feel that sense of joy and excitement she usually got from Anna. It was as if the Anna she knew and love was gone and what was left was just an empty, emotionless shell.

“What do you think it all was?” Anna wondered.

“Well if I had to make a guess, I’d say when you looked at the glyphs, that obelisk must have telepathically beamed those images into your mind.”

“It all… It all looked so real,” Anna said, her voice still shaking. “It’s like it was a dream and yet I felt like I was really there on Mars, watching it all.”

“We probably won’t be able to tell anyone about this,” Elsa told her. “Apparently, the FBI or someone like them went to the control centre just after I left with you and took all our data.”

“What the hell?” Anna wondered. “Elsa… We need to tell people about this. This is big, really big.”

“I know, but if we try, the government will likely have us arrested,” Elsa argued.

“But people need to be told about this!” Anna shouted. “During those visions… when I saw the Martians get slaughtered… I saw these giant black monsters attacking them from space. I.. I couldn’t help but feel like those things wouldn’t have stopped at Mars.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “Anna… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I have this weird gut feeling that whatever destroyed Mars… might still be out there,” she then looked out of the window. “And… they might be watching us here and now… and one day, they might come to wipe us out too. And we have to be ready for them if they do.”

Elsa held Anna’s hand. “That won’t happen, Anna. Not as long as I’m around.”

“You promise?”

Elsa nodded, taking Anna’s hands and leaning in. The two of them touched foreheads and Anna sighed, welcoming Elsa’s loving, tender embrace.

“I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll face it… together.”

#elsanna #submission #february 2021 contest #prompt: ancient worlds #cw: angst #cw: horror #cw: hospitals #cw: aliens

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dirthavarens · 4 years ago

Note

I was waiting to make sure no one pounced you, but apparently not.#3 and/or #42 of the kissing prompts for Dragatha. Whichever catches your fancy more

For once in my goddamn life, I am actually doing this.

It had been nearly a year since Agatha Van Helsing and Count Dracula had been found off the coast of Whitby. Agatha would not settle for only herself being brought to shore upon finding herself in the unfortunate category of undead. He had changed her and he would be staked for it. Or at least she had thought.

“Agatha, you’ve been gone an awfully long time. A husband will start to worry if his wife is gone too long, you know. I was starting to consider tacking up posters,” Dracula chides, half-pleased with himself and half curious as to her whereabouts. He had been waiting for her, just a little ways inside the door. A dog awaiting his mistress’s return.

She should have killed him by now but she was endlessly fascinated by him, even as her stomach turned uncomfortably as he claimed her as his wife. Only on paper, only because he made it so. Only because of his selfish, doggish actions was she now as he was, a vampire. A lifeless, bloodthirsty monstrosity. If not for the sake of containing him, she would have parted from him at the first opportunity. She would have turned to the nearest priest and asked to be staked; or she would have studied her own existence in death.

Agatha was able to watch him adapt, rather quickly, to a new environment and to new people. This process was no doubt hastened by his diet, secured by the blood of his victims, but fascinating nonetheless. She had taken note and eventually she dined on particular individuals that would grant her knowledge she could not obtain otherwise.

“Based on the smell of you, I’d say you had dinner without me,” he continues when she doesn’t entertain him with a response. His nose twitches as he closes the distance between them, never caring for her personal space, and frowns. “Inferior vintage. You should take better care of yourself.”

“Unsatisfied with your wife’s diet?” she snarks back, unflinching, her thick Dutch accent still perfectly in place despite all of the English blood running through her veins. He sees it as an act of defiance, holding to tradition in a new world. She sees it as a way to connect her to her human self, something to ground her to the morality she hypocritically holds close.

“Deeply,” he returns, decidedly ignoring her tone. Dracula leans in, sniffs at her neck with displeasure, and draws his head back, his frown growing sullen. “You do this intentionally.”

“Feed on the dying? Of course I do,” she says as she walks deeper into their home. She should call it what it is, a gaudy and oversized prison, but she has refrained for eleven months. The former nun can hold her tongue far longer than he ever could and she wasn’t about to entertain certain arguments.

She ignores the footfalls behind her, used to him following her around like a lost child, pestering her whenever he saw fit. Through the foyer, through the hall, crossing down a staircase and into the bowels of the near castle-sized home, they went. She wanted her study some place he could not enter, some place entirely hers. Once she found that she was impervious to the weaknesses he possessed, she used them to her advantage.

Down a dimly-lit hall and to a room with a cross affixed to the door, she hears him give a puff of breath and his shoes stop clicking against the stone floor.

“This? Again? Agatha, you’re stuck with me for all eternity and you’re going to spend that eternity pouting in your dismal little room?”

“Asks the man who sleeps in a box of dirt,” she shoots back as she opens the door, a line of Biblical pages lining the entryway. Agatha steps inside and turns to look at him. It reminds her of the convent a year prior and the knowledge that he cannot follow grants her mind some peace. “When was the last time you slept in a bed?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer and closes the door.

He irritates her beyond measure, beyond rationality, and yet she remains in his--their--home. Carfax Abbey was a quick fix, if only for his “talent” of suggestibility over others. Six months and they had a completely renovated property, complete with all his little secret passageways and hideaways. She had been impressed with his vision, though she would never admit it to him.

She reaches for a book she had recently picked up and takes residence on the small loveseat he bought for her on a whim. It could have been seen as a token of affection had it not been from him and an attempt for her to let him into the study.

The novel was a cryptozoological text on lycanthropy, werewolves, and the various mentions of them throughout history. She reads through it with idle interest, her annoyance ebbing as she turns each page, scribbling quick notes as she reads.

When she’s satisfied with her research, nearly two hours later, Agatha stands and stretches. It’s a purely human habit she hasn’t been able to rid herself of since turning. Not to mention, the more human behaviors she kept, the more he disapproves, and that is a win in her book.

The former nun blinks a few times and looks to the door behind her. It has been hours since she entered the room and she feels it safe enough to exit into the corridor. Safe enough from his prying eyes, his alluring presence, her weaknesses so human it sickens her. While he annoyed her beyond imagination, she can’t bring herself to part with him, if only to watch him. She keeps justifying her presence, her very existence, on keeping his destructive tendencies at bay. The Count can hardly keep himself in order but she has that power over him. Even if she needed a moment to herself every now and then, he would always bend to her whims.

When she opens the door, she’s greeted by him, sitting against the wall of the stone corridor. He’s staring emptily at the opposing wall, unmoving, unbreathing, until she appears in the doorway. Agatha nearly scoffs at his behaviors, a dog awaiting his mistress, a beast suddenly unable to survive on its own.

“Have you been waiting here the whole time?” she asks, her tone severe despite the warmth that unfurls within her. It’s not romantic, it’s stalking, she reminds herself. However, upon further inspection, she notices his change of clothes and lively hue of his skin.

“As a matter of fact,” he starts, standing and moving towards her. “I just returned and I want you to taste something.”

He’s too close now, just a breath away from her mouth and the scent of blood is heavy on his lips. Agatha can feel her teeth shape into fangs and knows her eyes are drenching in the crimson hue of bloodlust.

“And what would that be?” she provokes, unwavering despite the way her body sways towards his form. She damns herself, damns him, for the way her figure acts of its own accord, ignoring her mind’s wishes to steer clear of him.

“Fresh blood, Agatha. You need to remember what it tastes like. Maybe then, you’ll stop these preposterous little games of yours and submit to your nature. It’s what vampires are supposed to do. Feed on the living, accept the truth for what it is.”

He’s too close for her to answer now, his neck bent down to the point she can nearly taste the blood on his lips.

“Kiss me, dragă mea,” he breathes against her lips, a hand at her hips that she doesn’t care to move. She should hate him, should push him away. But she doesn’t. In fact, Agatha Van Helsing makes no such movement, despite her mind demanding repulsion.

In a moment, she makes her decision, hunger overtaking her higher functions, and she accepts his lips on hers, hungry as he claims her with a kiss. Her fangs scrape against his bottom lip as she sucks the last of the fresh blood from it and looks up at him after pulling away.

“Again.” A word that sounds more of a request than a demand, but she obliges him. She kisses him deeply, her hands coming to his cheek and disheveling the neatly organized locks atop his head. Dracula pulls her tighter against him and pushes her up against the stone wall.

The rocks are cool against her back, adding a contradictory sensation that conflicts with the heat of his mouth and hands as they travel her body. His mouth tastes of blood, surely, but there’s something else that she cannot place that compels her to deepen the kiss. Exploratory in execution, her tongue samples him, delving in and out, running against the slick of his own.

“What a naughty nun you are,” he purrs as he breaks the kiss, his lips traveling to her jaw. “Shall I punish you?”

#answers #prompts #my writing #dragatha #vampire!agatha #i always love vamp aggy #i'm a hoe 4 her #i'd die 4 her tbh #dracula

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charlottemadison42 · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Snek Day!

~It’s still Snek Day for 3 more minutes in my time zone, so I managed a short lil fic!

++++++++++++++

Exile from the Emerald Isle - by CharlotteMadison, rated T, ~2300 words. CW: slightly snexy snake demon, disordered eating / religious fasting. Here on AO3

From Wikipedia: The more familiar version of the legend is given by Jocelyn of Furness, who says that the snakes had all been banished by Patrick chasing them into the sea after they attacked him during a 40-day fast he was undertaking on top of a hill.

"Wonderful work here, Aziraphale," trumpeted Gabriel with an intolerable smile. "Just what we'd hoped for."

"Just following orders," said the principality pleasantly, through gritted teeth.

Gabriel looked up into the misting rain and miracled himself a small canopy. He left Aziraphale outside of it. "We're really looking forward to all the good Patrick will accomplish, as foreseen. With your divine help and guidance, of course. Well!" The archangel clapped his hands together like a game show host and nodded as if to conclude their business.

"Ehm, if I may --" Aziraphale ventured. "Can we -- can he end his fast yet? The poor man can barely move."

They looked together across the stony windswept hilltop to where young Pátraic lay on his side, drenched, laconic and lifeless.

"Anhhhhhhh, he'll be fine," Gabriel said with a dismissive handwave. "Self-discipline is the path to sainthood! And we have very high expectations for this one. They accomplish so much more when they stop worrying about all that food and sleep and comfort and --" here Gabriel shuddered. "...Sex."

"Right, quite right. It's just that...he's not accomplishing much, at the moment, is he?"

"I don't see a problem. Joshua lasted forty days, why shouldn't that be the gold standard? Anyway. I'm off to see the Pope about a few things. This Vulgate project -- very exciting."

"It is indeed." Aziraphale nodded fervently.

"Stay dry now!" Gabriel smiled his brilliant empty smile once more, and vanished at last.

Aziraphale sat heavily on a mossy wet rock and wilted.

It was only day thirty-two and Pátraic could only wake up and move in tiny bursts. He drank water but could no longer get up to relieve himself, so his guardian angel kept him clean and moved between soft mossy spots. The wet and the chill were now clearly getting to the future saint in addition to the hunger, and he coughed when he had the strength to.

It was horrible.

Aziraphale kept fantasizing about taking him to a warm dry inn, tucking him in, spoon-feeding him broth until he was strong enough to take meat. It would happen any day now. Pátraic would make it. He was destined to. But what in Heaven's name was the point of all this --

"Sssss he gone?" whispered a familiar voice.

Aziraphale shut his eyes tight in exasperation. "Yes, Crowley. You can come out now."

Crowley had adopted a mid-sized presentation today, perhaps twelve feet in length. He gleamed black and red with golden eyes, brilliant against the emerald green hills. Raindrops beaded on his scales like stars or sea foam.

"Ssssso. A sssaint, is he? Going to do ever ssso much good?"

"He's a person of exceptional faith and charity," Aziraphale said, rubbing his temples. "I'm to watch over him for now."

"What if I'm sent to make him ssstumble?" Crowley circled the angel's rock slowly, reared up so they were nearly of a height.

"I'm rather more inclined to think you're supposed to be doing something elsewhere and you've come here to play upon my nerves."

"Who, me? Never."

Crowley's tail snuck through the strap of the knapsack lying on the ground and tugged it over. Its contents spilled out onto the ground: apples, jerked mutton, a round of cheese, a skin of wine. The cheese rolled several feet downhill before it settled in a muddy spot.

"Oopssssie," said the demon in a tone that made it clear he was doing exactly what he wanted to.

"Vile worm," grumbled Aziraphale. "What did the cheese ever do to you?"

"Tetchy, aren't we?" observed Crowley. "Is someone's corporation getting hungry too?"

Aziraphale snorted. "Not in the least. We don't need to eat. Why should I be hungry?" And he did a very fine job suppressing the tears of frustration that threatened to spill over at the smell of the poor chese in the mud.

Heaven gave him commendations for converting heathen chieftains who didn't really seem to need converting, especially at swordpoint -- but they should be giving him a commendation for keeping a straight face now.

"Sssso you're not hungry?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"As the last man you tempted during a lengthy fast told you: we do not live on bread alone, but on Her Word."

"And this is living, is it? What he's doing?" asked Crowley pointedly, sneaking up to eye level and fixing the angel with his golden gaze.

"What do you want, foul fiend?" Aziraphale summoned all his ferocity and held the demon's gaze unblinking. Crowley undulated hypnotically without looking away.

"Well. If you want the saint to ssstarve for another eight days, I suppose I want him to eat sssomething, don't I? I don't have direct orders but it would follow that I should try to feed him."

Aziraphale wished for a moment that Crowley would stop teasing him and present as a human again, both because he wanted to read his expression and because his lovely hair had been styled in such elaborate braids since he traveled east --

But he stopped his own chain of thought there. "Lovely" was not a word to be thinking about one's adversary's hair, no matter how it shone or flounced when he tossed it. And Crowley tended to take his serpentine form after he'd had a particularly difficult time of things. He did look marvelous as a snake. And he always seemed to fall back into his favorite tricks from way back In The Beginning.

"I know what you're trying to do, tempter of Eden, and it won't work. It is already decided that he will survive this trial."

"But will you? I haven't seen you so grumpy since you stained your favorite cloak in Kiev. You said ssssome rather unangelic things if I recall."

Unfortunately, having-had-a-difficult-time-of-things-recently also usually meant the demon was eager to spread the misery. So Crowley spent much of his time in serpent form poking at Aziraphale like a lamb on a spit. Presumably to forget whatever had lately frustrated and traumatized Crowley.

"That cloak was a gift from Aléxandros ho Mégas three hundred years before! I try to keep my things in good condition. It's another way of being frugal."

"Or vain." Crowley had no eyelids and very little in the way of cheek muscles, but he could still convey a smirk somehow.

"Do you want me to smite you, Serpent?" Aziraphale threatened, but he knew Crowley knew he wouldn't. He was a pathetic angel; all handwringing indignation, not a hint of divine firey rage.

Crowley hissed and backed away, and a moment later he stood there on two legs with copper hair, human (or at least human-shaped) in all his glory.

Glory? No, of course not, he was Fallen; this was the updated version of whatever his glory used to be -- splendor? magnificence? Ah, Aziraphale was spending entirely too much time hunting down the right words to describe his dearest enemy.

Crowley tossed his hair defiantly. Shine. Flounce.

"You understand what I'm proposing, angel?" he said, and his voice sounded different now, throaty, full. "Whatever you may want for the poor sod, you have to keep him starving til head office says when. I am obliged to counter you. I could do the opposite."

Aziraphale swallowed hard. He was thinking of Pátraic but he was thinking harder about Crowley's eyes. "Could you, then?"

"I would do the opposite. If you wanted me to." Crowley stepped a little closer and leaned down to eye level, just where he'd hovered before. Aziraphale's stomach protested nearly four weeks of hunger and the rest of his body resonated with the feeling.

"I'd -- I'd have to -- resist you. Try to thwart you," said Aziraphale.

"Ah yes, you'd put up quite the struggle no doubt," Crowley concurred, nearly purring.

"I'm stronger than you, you know."

"Perhaps. Depends what you...want. What we both want."

Aziraphale blinked rapidly and looked down at his feet. Starvation was muddling his thoughts. Crowley's burning eyes were muddling them more. "How could we want the same thing? We can't possibly. It goes against the order of creation."

"Angel," said Crowley, in a tone dripping with honey and wine. "You can't tell me you agree with Gabriel that self-discipline means eight more days of this?"

He gestured to the starving men before him.

A small whimper escaped Aziraphale's throat. Why was Crowley so close?

"You -- you'd have to...overpower me," murmured Aziraphale, mermerized now by Crowley's eyes.

"Overpower you?"

"I -- yes."

"I could."

"You could not. I'm stronger."

"Oh angel, I could." Crowley's eyes flared, sparked faintly, and shifted, just a bit -- he was a snake again. His tongue wavered up and down just an inch from the angel's nose, and then he retreated down into the heather and moss to gather his powerful coils together.

The next bit happened very fast, which helped Aziraphale forgive himself later for not doing something. Because (Heaven help him) he should have done something. He should have done something --

The Serpent wrapped the finest bit of his tail around Aziraphale's ankle, and then with a dash almost too fast to witness, he dove through the scrubby grass behind the angel's calves and bound his legs together with solid muscle and fluid spine. He circled ever so slowly, drawing his scales in a tight loop around both legs -- and then he darted between the rock and the angel again, redoubling his grip, sliding slowly and smoothly in and out of a double coil that practically enveloped Aziraphale from the arch of his foot to his knee.

Apparently the angel's advantage when it came to corporeal strength was matched when Crowley took his original earthly form. No matter how Aziraphale flexed and struggled -- and the more he did, the more a strange tightness gathered low in his belly -- the unyielding weight of the black snake held him fast. They never touched. Never. And now he was feeling the demon's entire length beneath his heel, over his crossed shins. Crowley was never quite still, his scales always sliding, sliding slowly around Aziraphale's legs, rubbing in the hollows around his ankle bones and under his knees.

His corporation began to shake, and it didn't feel good but it didn't feel bad, and he wasn't clear on exactly what was happening but he hoped it wouldn't stop until he sorted it out.

Crowley rose to eye level again, still slithering ever so slowly around Aziraphale's legs in an unending lemniscate drag.

"We could cooperate, you know," said the serpent. "Momentssss like thessse."

"Never," gasped Aziraphale, but his voice trembled.

"Nobody would ever know."

"We would."

"But we might want the same thing."

"We -- we can't. Crowley, we can't."

"Sssso I should run away and let the saint lie in agony for eight days, then," whispered the serpent.

Aziraphale flinched. "You know I don't want that. You know I want --"

"What do you want?"

Aziraphale inhaled audibly and closed his eyes against the amber fire of Crowley's. "I want to resist you."

"Well then." Crowley tugged his coils a little tighter and stopped his relentless slide. "Shall I let you go?" he asked. "Or shall we struggle? Or do you yield?"

Aziraphale imagined himself looking up. Imagined struggling. Imagined yielding. What would it mean? What would happen? Hunger twisted his stomach. The muscles in his legs all tightened until he shook even harder.

But before he could answer:

"Palladius!" called Pátraic. "With whom do you speak?"

The poor starving evangelist, the former slave, the true believer, was trying to roll over and look at Aziraphale. But he could only really flail and flop at this point. Crowley released the angel, quick as a thought, when the emaciated young man laid eyes on them.

Pátraic's eyes went wide as saucers. With a surge of adrenaline he pushed himself up on his knees and pointed.

"Dragon! There's a dragon! Palladius, what unholy monster has you in thrall?"

"Oh dear. I don't suppose he's ever seen a snake before," muttered Aziraphale.

Pátraic lurched forward in an unsteady desperate lunge. He reached out toward them and seemed to focus his delirious expression, conjure a kind of energy at his fingertips.

"Jesus fucking Christ," shouted Crowley, backing away. "Can he do that?!"

Aziraphale stood up. "Wait -- wait, Pátraic -- it's all right, this is just a creature you're unfamiliar with, he won't harm us --"

"He spoke in the tongues of men! And he blasphemes! He is a foul demon from the very pit!" screamed the saint.

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a Look.

"I charge ye to leave this place --" Pátraic began, hand shaking, his voice a steady practiced chant.

"Can he -- can he -- can a human --" stammered Crowley, gathering all his length nervously as if tugging at petticoats.

"I don't rightly know," snapped Aziraphale, unaccountably nervous. "He has been communing directly with Her for several weeks now."

The exhausted saint was still reciting his furious exorcism, voice rising to a shout. "-- And go back from whence ye came, returning no more!"

With a small pop and the smell of ozone, Crowley vanished into thin air. Aziraphale jumped.

Pátraic collapsed into the springy heather as if dead. Aziraphale knew he had to tend to the poor man, but he couldn't help stamping his foot irritably with his first step.

It would be ages until he saw Crowley again. Simply ages. And who knew how long before he was a snake again, so much more comfortable tempting, so much more comfortable touching.

And what would they possibly have to say then?

#ggoso #good omens #saint patrick snakes #snekday

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therealvagabird · 5 years ago

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The Rebirth of Beggar Maru

A new short story, featuring the origin of one of my OCs. Beggar Maru is a Yuan-Ti warlock whose dark pact gave them a second shot at life - and the power to fulfill their every desire. Names featured in here are adjusted for a more homebrew flavor, rather than using anything proprietary to D&D.

Feel free to also give it a read, like, and comment over on WordPress.

It was a cold evening in Eregate. The damp air that wafted up from the oily river brought with it a creeping chill that went right through any amount of clothes. Maru always felt sluggish on days like these – as if they were lying at the bottom of an icy lake, pressed down by the dark. The ragged form of the city wretch peered down from the Ravenkey Bridge, the stone railings on the side coated with a thin layer of frost, though not enough to dissuade Maru from sitting with legs dangling over the rushing waters of the Noden.

The creature that was Beggar Maru was a haggard and pallid thing, all swathed in dark vagrant’s rags of cracked leather and sooty black. Though they’d never been a figure of grandeur, their current state of affairs was rather recent. A failed heist on a small beer-stand had been the last straw, and Maru had been late for the third time on paying rent. It wasn’t even rent in the traditional sense, but rather the extortive fee the wretch had been forced to hand over to Guy Roden, the boss of the Underport hideout. There was a time when Beggar could just manage to roll with the regulars – stealing, grifting, gambling, swindling and the like, as all the refuse of the city did to survive – but now their luck had run out, and not even the scum of scum had need of them.

They were an androgynous creature, though at just thirty years of age it was not the androgyny of some upper-class metropolitan, but that rough and sagging indistinguishability found in the elderly and the homeless. Black hair hung in greasy strands about their face, which was sallow and gaunt, with loose skin and eyes that peered from dark sockets. Perhaps the one undegraded thing about Beggar were their eyes, which were the same vibrant green they’d always been, though with a lifelessness behind them that could be caught at a passing glance. Their pale skin, where it could be seen, was dotted with patches of a strange rash – a condition for which there’d never been a treatment, and which had gotten worse from lack of bathing ever since Maru had been evicted from the gang den. The weight of misfortune and poverty made everyone look the same after a point – nobody might guess that the creature was one of the rare snakefolk of the East. Here, in the city, monster and man and elf could all be swallowed up by the underbelly.

Though it wasn’t as if being of a strange bloodline had helped Maru at all. Quite the contrary – they’d never once had the sense of “fitting in”, even amongst the delinquent. There was something about them, in every subtlety of the way they acted, that just seemed to repel people, despite their overall human appearance. More than that, it had always nagged at Beggar Maru that their kind were not meant for places like the cities of the North. The cold air, the food, the water – they’d been sickly since childhood, and Maru could never remember a time they’d not struggled against the frailty of their own body as much as the harshness of the world around them.

Some said that the snakefolk were wicked at heart. Beggar didn’t doubt that, however, and just wondered if the gods of this land were enacting their toll in vengeance. Regardless of what terrible things the wastrel had done in their life, for pleasure or profit, it wasn’t as if they’d been given much of a choice. Maybe Jack, god of thieves, didn’t care for outsiders either.

Maru rubbed their fingers together. Everything felt so greasy.

“Maybe a bath in the riva’?” They mused, the low-class Eregate accent still detectible through their hissing, raspy voice. It was a dark joke, of course. Nobody would ever touch the Noden and come away cleaner.

It was as the snakefolk sat there on that frosty ledge and contemplated with half-serious interest whether to hurl themselves into the water that they heard the sound of footsteps. Two sets, thumping away on the cobbles, coming closer. Beggar turned to spy two lumpen men in garb just margins better than the vagrant’s own. One had red hair and a patchy beard. Orman. The other had a close-shaved scalp and greyish skin. Jordy Martin.

“Not slinkin’ in tha Underport no more, Begga?” Jordy shouted ahead of the pair’s approach, in an already hostile tone.

“No more rent.” Maru rasped back, just sparing him a side-eye, “Nothin’ to collect, if that’s why you’re ‘ere.”

“We’re not ‘ere from Roden,” Jordy spat, “We’s on business from D.”

Derr the dwarf, or “D” as he was most often known. One of the many minor bosses of the city underworld. Though Maru couldn’t guess what business he’d hired these two louts for.

“What of it?” the snakefolk asked, hoisting their legs around to get back up onto the bridge. Before they could gain footing, a meaty hand clamped down on their collar.

“Don’ feckin’ play dumb wit’ us, ye nightcrawler.” Orman shouted into his face.

“D ‘eard ‘bout yer run on ‘is beer stand the ovva day.” Jordy went on, the two men now right up on either side of the vagrant, dwarfing them in terms of sheer bulk, “Don’ take kindly ta that kinda infraction.”

“Nope.” Orman huffed.

“Bollocks,” Maru shook their head, “Derr don’ keep any business this side of tha Noden. I woulda known if it was one of ‘is. It was jus’ some nobody.”

“Fat lot of diff’rence.” Jordy chuckled.

“Fuck you mean?” bright green eyes went narrow.

“I mean who gives a shite? I’d ‘ave put you down fer free.” The brute replied.

“We jus’ gonnae tell ‘em we was killin’ you fer D.” Orman’s grip tightened.

“On tha off chance anyone could even be arsed ta ask fer you.”

Before Beggar even had a chance to protest, to try and figure out why now, of all days, this pair of dregs had decided to kill them, a second set of hands grabbed at the wastrel’s shoulder, and in an instant of weightlessness they were hurtling down from the Ravenkey Bridge.

Maybe it was appropriate. It wasn’t as though there was much left to be lost. In some serene part of Maru’s brain, untouched by blind panic, they wondered how many nights on the frigid streets they’d have survived anyway.

The black surface of the river came rushing up, the icy chill of the Noden surrounded the damned soul, and death worked its fingers into Beggar Maru’s skull.

Noise was the first thing that came back to the unconscious wretch. Before sensation returned to their numb flesh, it was the sound of dripping water that pattered in Maru’s ears. There was little else to latch onto – the air was damp, and wherever they were, it was dark. Green eyes cracked open, and then widened to try and take in the misty shadows of the strange room they were lying in. A pool of water surrounded the drenched form of the snakefolk – they were half-submerged in some kind of pool. Cavernous walls bounded all sides of Maru’s vision but the front, in which yawned unbroken darkness.

Was this hell? One of the hells? It seemed about right, but something in their bones told them that they were not dead. What lent them that impression, they had no idea – it was even harder to tell, what with how hellish and grey their life had been already.

“Where am I?” Maru asked, as their whispering voice vibrated off the damp walls of the tiny cave. The vagrant hauled their soaked form up from the shallow pool – had they been washed up some kind of hidden pocket beneath the river? But then, the water didn’t smell as foul as that of the Noden.

With nowhere else to go, trepidatious steps sounded their way down the black corridor.

Maru wandered like that for a time, hands on either wall of the narrow passage, which seemed to be of smooth rock, not carved, but worn with shocking regularity. Even with the snakefolk’s inherent night-vision, almost nothing could be made of how far the tunnel ran. No indication of if it was slanted up or down, or if anything waited for the wanderer at its end.

It was when the walls on either side of Beggar fell away with a final step that they, with startled flailing at the unexpected outlet of the passage, pitched forward into a shadowed room.

Maru screamed at the pain of sudden light, when all about the walls torches of an unnatural red hue lit up, casting the room in shades of blood and flame. Stained hands guarded the miserable castoff’s face, anticipating something horrible.

Nothing happened. The room, though now illuminated by the mystic torches, was uninhabited. It was a small space, no more than fifteen feet across, and about as high, in the form of a rough circle with a domed ceiling. There were no other passages apart from the one Maru had come from. In the floor was set a raised dais – the one thing at first which stood out as artificial, besides the torches. In the center of the slight platform rose a small pillar, just a few feet tall. Along its sides were many subtle carvings; serpentine textures which caught Maru’s eye, before their gaze traced the weaving ridges down the base of the plinth, across the floor, and up the walls. What at first appeared to be bare stone now came alive with the hidden, snakelike carvings, giving the static surface a disconcerting and fluid appearance. The way the grey rock was painted in ruddy hues by the strange torches didn’t help curb the surrealness either.

Maru huddled there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before a faint glinting from the top of the plinth caught the snakefolk’s eye. With nowhere else to go, and fearful curiosity gripping at their chest, the ragged near-human crept towards the mysterious structure.

As they stepped up to the plinth, managing to catch sight of the diminutive object that lay on top of its sheared-off surface, the breath left Beggar’s lungs. Glinting in solitary beauty on the grey stone platform was a magnificent ring.

It was a finger ring, suited to a normal humanoid’s digit, and cast of bright silver. Though its edges looked plain at first, the closer Beggar got, the more the reflections in the smooth and polished surface seemed to distort and fragment, as the metal appeared to catch all light that hit it, breaking it in strange and subtle fractals. Despite this, the quality of the silver was of little interest when compared to the gem which crowned the piece of jewelry. It was a cat’s-eye, of a glorious golden color – subtle hues of amber, sunbeam, and flame interspersed with more subtle impurities of violent, maroon, crimson, emerald, and jade, all emanating out from the black little scar that split its center. Despite the red hue of the room’s lighting, the colors of the ring appeared untouched. Though the ring was overall of simple design, little more than a gem and a band, it was the magnificent complexity that revealed itself upon any close inspection that drew in Maru’s avaricious eyes.

The wastrel reached out and plucked the ring from its resting place.

Nothing happened, yet again, and so that made it all the more startling when Maru turned about, ring in hand, and came face-to-face with a demon.

The snakefolk’s scream of terror was cut short, though, at the realization that the creature was not very threatening at all.

It was an imp. As best could be described as an imp by somebody who knew nothing of demonology. It stood just under two feet tall and looked all the world like an emaciated child. Maybe even a gnome or a goblin, rare as those races were in Eregate for comparison. It had wide, reptilian eyes of a hue to match the jewel in the ring, along with smooth, scaled skin of a dark emerald color, with the texture of fine river pebbles. Its hands and feet were clawed, and vicious fangs could be seen peaking from its lolling mouth, while draconic wings twitched on its back, and slight horns crowned its head in a sparse forest of quills. The monster was almost cute, in a way. That same sort of disgusting cuteness that could be found in some insects or purebred noble dogs.

“H-h- yeah?” Maru hazarded some form of greeting, as the strange little thing stared up with unblinking interest.

“Ssserpent?” it asked back, and the mortal recoiled. The imp’s voice seemed to come from within their head more than from the creature’s mouth, which moved in different shapes than the words it spoke.

“W-what?” Beggar asked again.

“Ahh, ssso you are!” the imp perked up then, “I can sssmell the blood in you. Lady, what a poor thing you are! You should not be thisss far from your homeland, ssserpent.” It spoke.

Maru shook their head, pallid skin slick with sweat and grime, “What the ‘ell are you talkin’ about? Who are you?”

“Ahh, sssorry. How impolite. You firssst.” It smiled.

Maru thought for a moment, gaze unwavering from the little demon lest it jump up and attack without warning.

“You first.” The snakefolk shot back. It was bad luck to give a demon your name without having its own in return. The storybooks said that much, at least.

“Ahhh, clever.” It snickered, scaled tail wagging almost like a dog, “My name is Nssissllnnssaa,” it said, and the word came out more as a strange and unaccountable sound than a clear name, “but I don’t think we’ll be sssticking with that in the future.”

“Maru.” The mortal replied, somewhat relaxed at knowing the being’s name, despite its unintelligible nature, and the weird circumstance of all that surrounded them, “Beggar Maru.”

“I like it!” it jumped up then, prancing in place, “How fun! You are sssome kind of ssstreet tough then?” it paused, “No, far too ragged. You look a poor picture! Like the world has chewed up and ssspat you out. You don’t sssmell great either.” It muttered.

Beggar took some umbrage at that, “You try livin’ my life and comin’ out smelling of fuckin’ daisies, demon. It costs good money to not look like a sewer rat.”

“Or doesss it?” the creature replied then, tilting its head in a quizzical way, “You were not meant for thisss life, were you? Did you not feel as though you – misssed out?”

“Wha—?”

“Do you not feel as if you were meant for something greater?” the imp started prancing again, hopping from one foot to the other, “I think you were! I can sssee it in you. Underneath that grime. I can sssmell your desssire. Your lussst for thingsss you could never have.”

Maru’s eyes thinned in their pale face, “What could you do, then?”

“Not me,” the creature giggled, “but the Missstresss.”

“Who?”

“The Ssserpent Missstresss. Perhapsss you do not know of Her, as you were not brought up in the darkessst Eassst, but She sees you. And she would like to help you.”

Looking around, the vagrant’s air of suspicion returned, “Some kinda deal? Seems like a bad move, makin’ a deal wif a devil.”

“Demon.”

“What d’you want, then? Or what does ‘She’ want? My soul?”

“Well—” the imp tapped its fingers together, “What else would you have to give? And believe me, it’sss not ssso high a price.” Its enormous, lambent eyes gleamed with childlike glee, “You would merely take up Her ring, and She will grant you all that you desssire. Maybe more. Maybe lessss – there are some thingsss that will not come all at once. But all that you would have to do isss go on living – but for Her.”

The pitch was cryptic yet enticing in a way that any offer was enticing to someone with nothing left to lose.

“What d’you mean? What would I ‘ave to do?” Maru asked.

“Sssimply live. I know what isss in your heart. Pleasssure. Power. Your sssoul would be bound to the realm of the Missstresss, and ssso everything you do would be dedicated to Her divinity. Think of it asss a – tithe. You will repay it one day, but you will only fall afoul if you ssseek to – I don’t know – live a life of asssceticism.” It spat out the last word as if it were a rotten apple.

Maru tore their gaze from the demon, their emerald eyes glancing to the magnificent ring still held in their palm. All that their heart desired?

“Oh, and—” the creature spoke up once more, “You would have me as well. Asss a familiar, of sssorts. Bessst of friendsss!” it looked up at the snakefolk with glee, like some kind of deformed kitten.

“Sounds too good t’ be true,” Beggar muttered, “but then, s’not like what I ‘ave is worth keepin’, is it?” Their attention was drawn to the ambient feelings of pain that they always suppressed – the itching of their skin, the aches in their bones, the sickness in their organs.

Beggar Maru was looking at the ring, and so couldn’t see the look of unbridled and abject excitement that came from the little demon’s face. The snakefolk pushed the ring about their palm, taking in its every angle. It was heavy. Heavier than a ring of its size might have been. Its subtle curvature, band and gem, reflected untold streams of multicolored beauty from within its gold and silver depths. Something, though they didn’t know what, made Maru feel as though they were falling into the river again. That feeling of weightlessness. Of finality. A decision – to change, to end. Though this time the decision was theirs and theirs alone.

Maru put on the ring, and the room returned to black.

In the upstairs suite of a fine inn, in the uptown of that city known as Eregate, which squatted with sprawled, soot-blackened mass on the banks of the Noden, a youth awoke from their bed. It was a fine bed, feather-stuffed and made of hardwood – fitting for an inn as fine as the Crown Cockerel. Silk sheets fell away from the form of a person who was not much older than twenty years, if that. Their skin was like alabaster, their limbs of hale proportion, their shape more beautiful than could be laid on male or female. They were human, at least to the eye of the unperceptive, though they looked like no human youth that could be found in such a hardy land. Their hair, which grew in a well-trimmed fringe just down to their jaw, was of a pure and unnatural white. They were clad in nothing but a sleeping-shawl of emerald silk, though clothes they had forgotten hung in the closet – as immaculate and well-made as the simple garment they slept in.

The youth’s eyes opened. Green and gold, with the pupils of a snake.

Beggar Maru had been privy to strange and wonderful dreams. Dreams like those of being within a womb – someplace warm, and quiet, removed from the pains of the earth. Faded lights and muffled melodies had come to them in their sleep, and now upon waking they felt better than they ever had in their whole life. The softness around them was like alighting on a cloud – so unnatural to one who had slept on cobbles and splintered, damp palettes from youth to maturity. Then, with curious languor, their hands went to their own skin, finding it as smooth and supple as the silk of the bed beneath them. This was not this skin of a street-rat.

Maru lifted a hand to their face – so well-manicured. Whose hand was this? As they marveled, they noticed something upon one of the fingers of their other hand. A ring. A bejeweled and resplendent ring.

As the snakefolk took in the sight of the fated piece of jewelry on their finger, their eyes grew even wider as a corona began to coalesce about it. The pale skin of their ladylike hand was subsumed in a shower of glistening sparks of deep and vibrant hues – jade, violet, gold. There was a sound like tearing fabric, and a brief burst of light from the nimbus of magic, and then nothing.

“Sssuperb. A natural.” A voice came then, familiar, high and raspy, “We may both be lucky.”

The youth on the bed glanced to the windowsill to see the blue light of morning filtering about a squatting shape. Whip-thin, winged and horned, with all other details obscured by the light behind them – save for the luminous glint of their large, yellow eyes.

“Wake up, warlock.” It coaxed, as a broad and needle-toothed smile spread between its ears.

#fantasy #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #yuan ti #warlock #oc #my oc #short story #backstory #origin story

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honey-bri-books · 5 years ago

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The Rupture: Castiel - Part 2

A made-up extension of the ending, from episode 15x03 of Supernatural. I do not own any of the characters, do not own rights to the show, etc. All characters created by Eric Kripke. For enjoyment (hopefully not a waste of your time!) Supernatural Fan-Fic.

***Possibly re-using angel names, here. Sorry!*****

Angels in story (team Castiel):

Lailah: Night, conception

Jophiel: Wisdom, Understanding, Judgment

Aglibol: The Moon

The highway deserted, three angels make their way across the state, hoping to find an angel-friendly bar along the way. Or even an “off-limits” bar. With the few angels left and with Hell a hot mess, several bars and restaurants were now hosted by demons, angels, or a combination of both. Creating an “off-limits” environment, where fighting, maiming, but mainly killing each other was banned within the limits of the parking lot and the building. The end of days no longer an old joke but a very possible reality, many supernatural creatures realized that they'd rather enjoy earth and humanity's inventions for the remainder of their days than fight. The angel in the driver's seat increases his speed. The one in the passenger seat complains that they might get pulled over.

Lailah: Aglibol! Would you slow down, please? I don't want to have to stun any more cops, tonight. I'm exhausted. Lailah checks his hair in his compact. Though really, the blood smeared on the left side of his face, starting to crust, needed more attention. Angels didn't usually get a freshening up of their vessels until a certain amount of hours have passed. Lailah had a few more to go, before the tears and stains would disappear from his suit.

Aglibol: The roads are deserted. Besides, I'm guessing people are still cleaning up after the evil ghosties that attacked, last. Though they probably think all of the possessed humans were caught sick with something. Aglibol does slow down his speed slightly, just in case. What WAS that all about anyway? The angels had just had a huge bout with a swarm of demons. Demons who claimed that it was the end of the world, and that all angels were doomed to slaughter. Whenever anything apocalyptic happened, it always had to be heaven's fault. It didn't help that the demons they fought were drunk.

Lailah: You don't know either? I really thought at first that it was the end of times. Like, actually the end. Heard Dad left again. Lailah gives up on his hair, dyed pink and teased up to high heaven. He starts to put away his compact when the third angel in the car kicks the back of his seat. Hey! Jophi. Stop it! Jophiel leans between the driver and passenger seats and grabs the compact out of Lailah's hand. I said knock it off. Lailah tries to swipe back at Jophiel, accidentally knocking Aglibol, instead. Aglibol swerves.

Aglibol: Would you two cut that out?! Jophiel! Give Lailah his compact back.

Jophiel: I think that Kurt Russel demon chipped a tooth!

Aglibol: It'll fix itself in a few hours. Just chill. Jophiel sulks in the back seat and tosses the compact to the floor of the jeep.

Jophiel: What now? I'm thirsty.

Lailah: You're not thirsty, you just want to get drunk.

Jophiel: Honestly, was just hoping we could hit up a safe-spot with a karaoke machine. Feel like singin'. Both Lailah and Aglibol groan. Jophiel always took the voice of an angel thing as a real super-power. All angels could sing, some better than others. Jophiel just loved the looks on mortals’ faces whenever he took to the mic. But at an off-limits bar, no one would care. Half of the bar patrons would be able to sing just as well, if not better. Lailah looks over at Aglibol with a raised eyebrow. He rolls his eyes in return.

Aglibol: I actually wouldn't mind a drink, myself. Let's just wait and see what pops up along the road.

Lailah: The last sign I saw read “Rest Stop ½ a Mile” from here. Maybe there'll be a map or directory or something. Also, I just kind of wanna stretch my legs. Stars and moon look pretty from the window, but I can't really see all that well from here. Can’t do anything about that, can you Gli? Why not let the moon be visible at its best, from any position on earth? Humans should all be able to afford that luxury, at least. Lailah strains to catch the moon from the passenger side window, but it keeps getting blocked by the trees. Both Jophiel and Aglibol agree, so they pull over and park next to Castiel's truck, a few minutes later.

Aglibol: Isn't that Castiel's truck?

Jophiel: How can you tell? He's always in a different car, when we see him.

Aglibol: I ran into him several months back, and he was driving that same truck. It had a small dent in the back. The three angels get out of the jeep and go over to inspect the truck, noticing footprints leading towards the one of the wood trails.

Lailah: Where is he? Still looking for demon-boy?

Aglibol: It was a nephil he was looking for, actually. And no, that was awhile ago. They've re-united last I heard.

Jophiel: Nephil – IM. Aglibol rolls his eyes. Ha! I'm right!

Aglibol: Um, sure. I'm gonna see if he maybe headed this way. You two want to check those other two trails? Both Jophiel and Lailah look surprised.

Lailah: Er, Why? Weren't we going out for drinks? Or do you want to make sure your boyfriend has a chance to join in on the fun? Aglibol stops and looks back, annoyed.

Aglibol: It's a sad world we live in where you're simply civil to another angel for a few minutes, and everyone thinks that means you're dating him. Aglibol had helped Castiel in a scrape or two in the past, and Castiel never failed in returning the favor. Rumors started flying, when Aglibol simply walked over to Castiel who had been knocked down in a fight, and helped him to stand up asking “Are you alright?” Oh, of course! That must mean they had sexual fantasies about each other, on a daily basis!! Yeah right.

Lailah: Okay, well, let's all stick together and not split up like the first victims in a horror movie. Kay?

The three angels head down the first trail, where Castiel had walked down just moments before.

Jophiel: You guys see anything? Hey...There he is. Yo! Castiel!! Castiel is seen climbing into something. As Jophiel, Aglibol and Lailah go further down the path, they see that Castiel is climbing through an old log-fence. There's a sign hanging precariously off the fence, and it starts to swing as Castiel's coat brushes alongside it. Can't he hear me? We aren't far...Hey! Aglibol, what...but Aglibol is sprinting down the path, towards the edge of the cliff.

Aglibol: Castiel! Stop! Castiel has walked up to the edge and is just barely grounded, by his heels. Lailah and Jophiel run to catch up with Aglibol, who has just reached the fence. No, not again! Don't jump....! Castiel leans forward, Aglibol jumps the fence and reaches for Castiel's trench coat.

Lailah: What the hell?! Castiel, what are you doing?! Get away from the....both Lailah and Jophiel halt suddenly, open-mouthed as they watch Castiel fall into nothingness, off the edge of the cliff...and then both scream into the night as Aglibol jumps after him. Aglibol!!!!

Aglibol falls after Castiel, hoping they hit the water and far away enough from shallow water and rocks, by the shore. Don't die! Don't die, please!!! He doesn't know if he's praying for Castiel or himself, or both. It's too late to turn back. Aglibol watches Castiel land in the water with a crash, and braces himself as he falls in after him.

Lailah and Jophiel don't know what to do. They run to the edge, but are hesitant in jumping to their deaths. They knew the strength of the moon’s rays and Aglibol were tied, and less harm would come to him when he made contact with the water. Castiel, on the other hand...

Jophiel: Where are they?! I don't see them.

Lailah: There! Lailah points to two bobbing figures in the water. Floating bodies? One seems to be slack, while the other is swimming towards the shore, tugging at the lifeless form. I think they’re...or at least one.....he chokes back a sob. Aglibol has been there for him in the tougest of times. A few hours ago, Aglibol saved Lailah's life. If he died now......Lailah turns to face Jophiel, who is heading towards a hidden path, leading down to the base of the cliff. Lailah hurries to catch up.

When both reach the end of the path, Aglibol is dragging Castiel's body out of the water.

Aglibol: Help me! Please! He's hurt...Lailah and Jophiel help lay Castiel further onto shore, past the rocks and onto a grassy clearing. Castiel lies very still. He seems to glow in the moonlight. Aglibol raises a hand over Castiel's chest, and a light shines from it, brightly in the night. The light dims, but Castiel hasn't moved. Aglibol looks up to Lailah. Help me. Maybe if the three of us...

Lailah: Aglibol, it's no use...I think he's...

Aglibol: He wasn't in the water for long. Maybe if we called other angels and.....Lailah throws his hands up in the air.

Lailah: And what!? Hope they don't chop his vessel into bits and mail the Winchesters his heart, while they're at it? What can we possibly do, Gli?

Aglibol: He didn't deserve this!!!!! He covers his face with his hands. I thought I'd reached him. The last time he tried... Lailah and Jophiel groan in despair.

Jophiel: You mean he's tried to kill himself, before now? The shock of his own words makes him stagger...Tried... They all look at each other sadly. Oh, Castiel. None seem to know what to do with Castiel's dead body. It needed protecting, it needed....The Winchesters. They'll want to be told. Someone should...Jophiel stops when Aglibol glares at him. He starts shouting and both Jophiel and Lailah know better than to argue with him.

Aglibol: Who do think must have drove him to this state, to begin with.?!?!? Dean Winchester is the worst type of human being ever to...

Castiel: (weakly) Dean... Aglibol jumps up, and both Jophiel and Lailah cry out in relief and surprise. Castiel opens his eyes slowly. After a moment, he sits up and looks around, as if lost. He inspects his hands, his arms, touches his face. Then he starts to shake violently, his eyes wide.

Aglibol: (Carefully) Castiel? Wha..Are you alright? How did you...where did...Castiel tries to stand, and falls back to the ground. Jophiel helps him up. Castiel looks at him, confused.

Castiel: Jophiel? What are you doing here? Castiel starts to calm, and the shaking is less severe. Both Lailah and Aglibol move towards Castiel slowly. They don't know that he left his blade at the top of the cliff, and are prepared to steal it out of Castiel's hands, if he were to attempt to kill himself, again.

Lailah: (Trying to sound casual) Hey Castiel! We were about to stop at the nearest bar, for drinks and maybe a little karaoke. Wanna come? Lailah had a waver in his voice, but was doing his best to sound chipper. Jophiel attempts a smile and puts a hand on Castiel's shoulder. Aglibol gets angry.

Aglibol: Castiel. What were you thinking!? Why would you try to...

Castiel: (Weakly) Yes.

Aglibol: What?!

Castiel: Yes, I'll join you. But...I don't feel like singing tonight. If that's alright...Castiel's expression is unreadable. There are tears in his eyes, but the shaking has stopped. The others are tentative, but all agree to go back to their cars and to head to the next off-limits bar they run into. Jophiel and Lailah take the jeep while Castiel and Aglibol take the truck, Aglibol driving.

Both Aglibol and Castiel are quiet, during the drive. When Aglibol tries to talk to Castiel again, he just nods or shakes his head no, in response. Castiel can only think of the last words he heard right before he woke up, alive on the shore.....

The Shadow: Not yet. Not like this...You don't get to die, like this...I haven't forgotten my terms and I know you haven't either. Forget about your pain, forget about your scars, let yourself feel warmth and love and experience bliss, for the first time. Pure, true, real happiness, Castiel. Then, oh I can't wait for you see what I have in store for you. All who die and go to the Empty are to sleep for all eternity...but not you. I’m so looking forward to you. See you soon...

The End..

See ‘The Rupture: Castiel -Part 1′ for previous chapter.

https://honey-bri-books.tumblr.com/post/188575597796/the-rupture-castiel-part-1

See ‘The Barn: Team Castiel’ for next chapter.

https://honey-bri-books.tumblr.com/post/188597719151/the-barn-team-castiel?is_related_post=1

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piperdelaprim · 5 years ago

Text

Carl as a half-human Headcanons/Backstory

So I kinda wondered why Carl wasn't like the other 3 robots. Obviously, he's not a cyclops, his voice is much more humanly compared to the others, and his actual structure resembles more of a human than a robot in a way. So I came up with the theory that he's half human!

He could just be a more refined robot, but that's boring!

Let's begin!

• Dynamike, the holy creator of all robots, found a way to incorporate real human brains into robotic bodies (I may or may not have been just a little inspired by Alita)

• Carl's brain belonged to a young and arguably nerdy high school student who had a bright future ahead of him, he had an amazing track record with straight As and stellar test scores alongside a passion to learn all above that.

• But one day, he vanished. And nobody knows why. Some say it was the pressure put upon him to succeed, and some say he was kidnapped.

*TW: death/corpse*

• The police investigated the case, with his family hoping he was alive, however before the police could, Dynamike found his lifeless body somewhere in a creek near the woods--a somewhat distance away from Brawl Town.

• He saw this as his golden opportunity to test his newfound science, and already had a robot body prepared for this occasion.

• He extracted the brain from Carl's body and wired it on to the robot mold, the dual light eyes on the construction helmet lit up, while the bot flashed a metallic smile.

• "I'm detecting seismic activity!" were his first words. Dynamike didn't know what to name him, in fact, there was nothing on the body to help identify the brain's owner post-mortem.

• Dynamike decided to name him after what he would have named his first-born son.

• "Carl is my name, geology is my game!" said the newly named humanoid, while preserving the diction he learned from his desired college major in his past life.

• Unfortunately, Dynamike saw Carl as a perfect opportunity for him to make more money, rather than a thing that he can call his own.

• Dynamike sent Carl to mine in the deep rocks of Brawl Town, bringing home gems and riches to follow, but because of his human brain, Carl sought for more.

• He didn't necessarily feel human emotion, like sympathy at this point, the only prominent humanly trait Carl possesses is his geniusness. But at the same time, he was as curious as a cat, and wanted to experience life out of solitude.

• Carl didnt know anybody outside of Dynamike, but one day while Dynamike was asleep, Carl decided to sneak out and try to meet new people, even in the dead of night.

• He didn't know what he would expect, he was hoping for friendly people to come and talk to him, not being aware of the social norms of the universe--he didn't know everybody would be asleep.

• Carl ecountered danger amongst the darkness, that of which being the evil robots (that everyone brawls against). He tried his best to flee, but he realized that fleeing would only prolong his inevitable destruction. He blindly, yet tactfully threw his pickaxe in such an angle that would hit the robot attacking him while it would come back to him like a boomerang would.

• The robot stopped chasing him and fell to the floor. Carl let out a sigh of relief and preceeded to try to find his way back to Dynamike's house.

• After that event, he felt all types of human emotions: bravery, strength, fear, and pride. But he couldn't find his way back home, and at that point, the clock had just struck 3 in the morning and if Carl didn't hide, there would be more bots out there to get him.

• Knowing where he was, Dynamike found Carl and took him back home, where he demanded him clearly not to sneak out during the wee hours of the morning.

• That night, the humanoid couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. He was almost giddy and jumpy for the rest of the day--it was the first time, in both of his lives, that he ever felt that brave or strong.

• One day, he told Dynamike how confident he was--to finally Brawl like the rest of his robots do. Dynamike was very hesitant to agree. He told Carl that he was his prized possession, and that even though it seems like he's just using him for free labor, it's ultimately because he wanted to keep him around.

• Dynamike was aware of how Carl felt with his human brain. He was aware that he felt restricted and isolated from the rest of the world.

• "You know, Mister, I am unfinished. I don't have real arms, I don't have real legs, I don't have real eyes, but most of all I don't have a real heart, but I learned that I can make one myself. It's physically impossible, but I don't mean it literally for that matter. But I can explore the world and make one from scratch, and I can make friends too and be a part of a whole! I-I just need your permission to do that." (He also loved reading fiction in his past life)

• Dynamike then told him to go out and live his life. "Stop usin' big ol' crappy words I ain't understand, you do it err'y day. You got me! You're super diff'nt Carl! You're like the son I ne'er had! I'd be a sad ol' man if you turn out to be one too!"

• Carl knew he's growing his own heart since realizing his full potential. He started to train to Brawl, and at that point he had already mastered the physics behind his pickaxe-boomerang type attack--he just needed to test it out.

• The other brawlers started seeing Carl out, wondering who he was--even the full-robots didn't know of his existence.

• "He's not like us isn't he?" Barley asked Rico. "No. Sawwwwwryyyy." Rico replied. Barley then questioned once again: "He's-he's quite humanly, isn't he?"

• Carl conversed and thought like a human, had humanly mannerisms, and now felt emotions like a human--it's just that he doesn't look like a human.

• He felt very ostracized in many ways because of his differences, even before talking to other brawlers. For some odd reason one day, Carl felt thirsty, and unsure of how to satisfy it, he tried to buy a drink from Barley's bar.

• "I don't think that would be much of help," said Barley, "but I drink this all the time!" He handed the newcomer a glass of oil--and he knew exactly what it was from the get-go.

• "Is this oil, sir?" said Carl. Barley nodded and encouraged him to try it. From the first sip, Carl already accustomed to the taste, and vowed to drink it as a part of his daily fuel.

• From that point on, Barley and him became allies--but Carl wanted to make a human friend.

• One day, he encountered the local red-headed girl, Jessie, outside of a practice area.

• "I see we have a newcomer in town, I'm Jessie, and your name is?" Carl responded with his name, with his very humanly voice.

• Jessie was very confused while hearing his voice, "you don't sound like you should"

• Carl was disappointed hearing this, he felt even more different, and it showed in his expression.

• "But I don't judge! You seem pretty cool! What's your weapon? Maybe we can team later if you want!"

• Jessie became Carl's first ever human friend, and they warmed up to one another, which lead Jessie to introduce him to a large number of human brawlers that made him feel more humanly than he had ever felt.

• "It appears that I have a crisis every day. My superior has a brain but my inferior is just metal. I'm not one or the other, but an ugly mix of both." he told his human friends. And Carl realized he had discovered more human emotions--pity, insecurity and jealousy.

• But his new friends remind him every day about his potential, and that if his mind allowed him to, he can eventually complete his heart.

• Carl eventually gains the skill and confidence to brawl successfully, with his powerful human brain and resilient metal exterior--he even incorporated his minecart into the mix!

• Meanwhile, back at home, his family still doesn't know where Carl (or if that's REALLY his name) is. His body vanished and there was absolutely no trace of him--not even a sign of whether he was alive or not.

• Carl gets weird dreams of his family back at home, not knowing who they are--he gets them so frequently that he even asked Dynamike what they meant--he frantically told him not to worry about it.

• Despite this, Carl still faces the challenges of fitting in, and whether or not he can be considered truly human--or at least human enough. But with his new skills, intelligence, and his developing heart, now he is reminded of what makes him human to other people.

That's all! I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what other headcanons you'd like to see!!

#carl #brawl stars #brawl stars carl #brawl stars headcanons #brawlstars #dynamike #brawl stars dynamike #brawl stars barley #barley #brawl stars jessie #jessie #alita #i was inspired by alita #half human #headcanon #robot #human #long post #carlita: brawler angel

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artemis-entreri · 6 years ago

Note

"I wonder if Jarlaxle’s hat ever attracts hummingbirds in warm climes? Hmm. #feather hatted hummingdrow" (My revised comment inspired by your writing from today.) For fragile creatures the size of a toe, hummingbirds are impressively willing to buzz a human (or, presumably, an elf). Jarlaxle being swarmed by hummingbirds, or as one himself? Both mental images are haunting me now. Take art inspiration or just run away screaming from either or both of these as you will. *kicks captcha*

“Don’t you have enough magical trinkets already?” The human’s scowl dragged his face down so much that the disapproval in his flinty eyes could’ve spilled right out over his prominent cheekbones.

“My abbil, there is no such thing as ‘enough’ magical trinkets,” the drow simply laughed and patted his companion on the shoulder with one hand, his other hand already going to the next item on the shelf.

There they were, in an abandoned wizard’s tower, the mercenary moving about so casually that it was as though he already owned the place. However, each of the flamboyant figure’s steps only served to increase the assassin’s apprehension.

“Remind me again why we are here?” Entreri slapped his companion’s hand away from a desiccated bird skull.

“I hardly need to, just as you hardly need to ask,” Jarlaxle replied, pointing at his featherless hat.

The assassin blew out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I can see that your feather is missing. I have accompanied you here to see to its replacement, not to partake in a tour.” Entreri swallowed his next words about the imprudence of ransacking a mage’s abode, for he knew it would just fall upon deaf ears.

“We are already here, it would be profligate to not fully explore the potential opportunities!”

Entreri snorted. “You’re one to talk about profligate.”

Jarlaxle simply smiled and tipped his hat. Entreri sighed and touched a hand to the black and red stitched gauntlet, not for the first time reassuring himself of its presence.

“Aha!” The drow’s exclamation whirled the startled human about. Widened gray eyes immediately narrowed when they beheld a wand brandished in the ebony fingers.

“That’s not a feather,” the irritated man stated flatly.

“Your powers of observation are as potent as ever I see.”

Entreri resisted the urge to snatch the thin stick from the deceptively delicate obsidian digits. Stiffly, he forced himself to turn toward the ornate stand where the implement had rested.

“Wand of Avian Wonder,” the assassin read, his brow knitted. He glanced to his companion with a raised eyebrow.

Jarlaxle nodded excitedly.

“This is what we came for? Not a replacement feather?”

“Why settle for one feather, when one could possess many?”

Realization dawned upon Entreri. “That was your plan all along?”

Jarlaxle nodded again.

“Truly, your greed knows no bounds.”

“I prefer to think of it as imagination.”

“You would so delude yourself.”

Jarlaxle simply laughed.

Shaking his head with resignation, the assassin diverted his attention to scanning his surroundings again. Not for the first time, his gaze alighted on each of the countless birds mounted within glass cases that lined the walls. Their unblinking, beady lifeless stares unsettled him.

“I’ve encountered a fair number of wizards,” Entreri mused aloud, “Yet none were quite so eccentric as this one.”

His companion was only half-listening, the drow’s elegant fingers tracing the length of the sleek wand as he turned it over and over. “My informants told me that he wasn’t born of this world. I know not the amount of truth in those tales, but they did speak of a word that is most strange, that the man used to refer to himself.”

Intrigued, Entreri turned and met the only set of eyes that shone with their own light.

“Ah, what was it… it was a word unlike any other that I’d heard before, said to mean ‘one who studies birds’…” The drow’s handsome features crinkled with concentration, his free hand rubbing his smooth chin.

“Aha! Ornithologist!” Jarlaxle proudly declared with a flourish of the wand.

The assassin’s surprised blink lasted only a fraction of a heartbeat, but in that span of time, his companion, who stood clearly before him before his eyes had closed, was replaced by a… fog? when his eyes opened again.

Entreri’s first reaction was that someone had drawn Charon’s Claw from his hip and called forth an ash wall, but when his hand went to the blade’s hilt, it found the familiar skull pommel secured in his weapons belt. However, before he even fully internalized this fact, a deafening cacophony of buzzing filled his ears. The assassin fought back the instinct to press his hands against his ears, forcing them to stay at his sides, ready to draw.

The sight before him was nothing short of chaos, an ever-shifting veil of incessant buzzing, an outline that was more mutable than water. He’s briefly reminded of the swarms of spiders skittering the countless webs decorating Menzoberranzan, and the memory turned his skin to gooseflesh.

Suddenly, flailing ebony arms poked out from either side of the strange fog, shattering the dark recollection. Further enhancing the now comedic effect were “particles” of the fog tumbling away, trailing with them puttering buzzes. Instinctively, the assassin’s eyes pored over the exposed ebony skin. Upon finding no punctures, scratches, or even so much of a mark, Entreri smiled, and nodded with grim satisfaction. He guessed his companion to be shouting something, but he couldn’t hear over the buzzing. Still, judging by the vigor of Jarlaxle’s flailing, Entreri guessed that the mercenary was, more or less, unharmed.

One of the fog particles landed on the floor and bounced away with a series of soft squeaks. After ascertaining that the Jarlaxle fog ball was still flailing with the appropriate amount of vitality, Entreri cautiously approached the particle, which was now feebly bouncing on the floor, emitting short bursts of buzzes. Although his keen eyes could easily discern the nature of the particle from his standing height, the assassin crouched to get a closer look, for he could scarcely believe what he saw. There, flopping about trying to get airborne again was a tiny, brightly-plumed bird, smaller than his thumb.

A shift in his immediate surroundings called Entreri’s attention back to the Jarlaxle fog ball. The mercenary’s legs were visible now too, for he’d fallen to his hands and knees, blindly groping after the wand that was rolling away from him. The innumerable tiny brightly-plumed birds continued to swarm around the floundering figure.

Each time that Jarlaxle’s fingertips brushed against the wand, inevitably, one of the hoard of tiny birds would flit in startlement, sending the wand rolling away further. Although Entreri couldn’t hear Jarlaxle’s cries of dismay, he could imagine them well enough. The assassin watched the spectacle with a thin smile, nodding with satisfaction each time that the drow’s latest attempt to seize the wand was yet again foiled by one of the colorful critters.

When Entreri finally kicked the wand into Jarlaxle’s grasping fingers, it was hardly because he’d grown bored of watching the mercenary receive his just reward. The sun was setting, and an eccentric wizard’s abode was among the least desirable places for him to spend the depth of night. He stepped back, predicting that his companion would call upon the magic of the wand again, and wanting no part in whatever chaos he was certain would ensue.

The wand didn’t so much as flourish this time, but rather, flailed at the end of the drow’s fingertips. Faintly heard among the still cacophonous buzzing of the bird swarm, Entreri was able to make out the half-word “-thologist” being gasped out by a winded-sounding Jarlaxle. To the assassin’s surprise, no explosion of diatryma, rocs or axe beaks emerged. The horde of hummingbirds didn’t disappear either, but the fog began to disperse, each member simultaneously losing interest in the brightly-colored, sweet-scented “flower” that it’d been enveloping.

The flock scattered so quickly, in so many different directions, that Entreri had to back away lest he was caught in the feathery pandemonium. Nonetheless, there were enough of them to obscure his vision, and only after many breaths later did he realize that Jarlaxle was not there.

Entreri’s expression instantly drew grim. One hand thrust into the gauntlet and tore it lose from his side, dagger brandished in the other. Gloom had already began pervading the tower, and the assassin squinted into each dark corner in search of the entity that whisked away Jarlaxle with its foul magic.

But there was nothing, no eyes met his except for the innumerable pairs of tiny, beady, lifeless ones, and no tingle of magical energy raised the hairs on the back of his neck. There was, in fact, no movement at all, except…

The thin wand rocked back and forth, having been caught in an indentation in the floor. And, next to the wand, was one of the tiny birds.

After one final look around to ascertain the sanctity of his surroundings, the assassin cautiously approached the wand and the bird. The small creature was the same kind as the others, but much more brightly plumed, and, even more curiously, possessed a pair of ruby eyes in lieu of the beady black ones of all the others.

Ruby eyes, Entreri realized with a start. He studied the bright purple of its head, wings and tail, taking in the iridescent quality of the rest of its plumage, which seemed to alternately present all the colors of a rainbow. All the while, the bird didn’t move, didn’t attempt to fly, only staring up at him. It almost looked… contrite?

“Jarlaxle?” Entreri chanced. The tiny bird nodded in a decidedly non-avian way.The assassin breathed a long, drawn-out sigh. He gingerly picked up the wand with his protected hand, and carefully set it back upon the stand from which the drow had lifted it. A buzz from behind him drew his gaze, and he almost felt pity for the transformed mercenary attempting, and spectacularly failing, to lift off.

“I know what you want me to do,” Entreri said, “But I’m not going to do it.”

More indignant buzzing sounded out from behind him.

“I could just leave you here,” the assassin’s tone turned icy, and the buzzing immediately stopped.

Shaking his head, Entreri sheathed his dagger and shed his gauntlet. He crouched before “Jarlaxle”.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

The transformed drow didn’t nod this time, but remorse filled his ruby eyes. Not enough remorse, Entreri silently noted, for that ruby gaze darted to the wand resting back in its stand.

The assassin sighed helplessly and laid his hand on the floor, palm offered to his companion. “Come, let us be gone.”

Jarlaxle hopped into Entreri’s palm, surprising the man with how little a difference the tiny passenger made, even to his sharpened senses. A curious sensation filled the assassin’s chest, uneasiness coupled with inexplicable heat. Finding himself tensing, the perplexed man cleared his throat.

“Do inform me before you revert so that you don’t break my wrist.”

Entreri felt rather than saw Jarlaxle’s response. Something very thin and very delicate traced a groove in his palm, shooting shivers down his spine.

“Not like that!” Entreri snapped, only to be rewarded with more involuntary shudders.

Although the assassin was certain he held his palm still despite the tremors of his body, Jarlaxle seemed to know regardless. The little bird did not relent, and between fighting the instinct to close his fist around the offender and resisting the flutters coursing through his body, Entreri was left quite breathless.

“Jarlaxle, I swear, if you do not stop, I will crush you,” Entreri warned, but he doubted that his shaky voice could even intimidate a hummingbird that wasn’t transformed from the most obnoxious of drow.

[[ The word, “ornithologist”, doesn’t actually exist in Common, for the etymology of the word is based in our Latin, rather than their Thorass. There exists across Faerûn as well as other parts of the Realms portals linking Toril to other worlds, including Earth. While an entity needs to be as powerful as Elminster to intentionally use these portals to traverse back and forth between the worlds, to find them purely by chance can happen to pretty much anyone from any of the connected worlds. It’s this facet of FR canon that inspired me to transport a hapless ornithologist from our world to theirs. Since the type of rigorous arcane studies engaged in by wizards is similar to the practices of scientists, I’d always figured that a scientist in our world would probably gravitate towards wizardry, should they find themselves inadvertently stuck in the Realms. As for what happened to the scientist-wizard and why he isn’t there to defend his tower against the interlopers, well, that’s up to your imagination. :P

The “Wand of Avian Wonder” is a modified version of the classic D&D item, Wand of Wonder. The idea is that the ornithologist, in his obsession with birds, modified it so that all of its effects became bird-themed.

Jarlaxle’s never tiny and helpless. Even when he seems to be, he still manages to discover and exploit one of Artemis’ erogenous zones. >_> ]]

#everandel #ama #Artemis Entreri #Entreri #Jarlaxle #Jarlaxle Baenre #Forgotten Realms #legend of drizzt #fanfiction

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bonerpillz-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Sacrifice - Richie Tozier x Reader

Written by E.

Disclaimer! The Loser’s Club (Only Richie really matters here) Will be aged up to about 17 because god forbid you write about normal human feelings for younger kids!!!!!

Description: Richie sacrifices himself for you causing feelings to be revealed.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, things get kinda heated ig if u know what I mean haha wink wink, angst(???) I think that’s it. Feel free to let me know if you feel as though there should be any other warnings here.

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

Bill was screaming but not out of terror, out of guilt. He was screaming. Telling you all to run, to save yourselves, that he got you into this and it was his fault.

Y/N stood behind us, my arm up in front of her protectively though I don't think she noticed that. There were tears brimming my eyes at the sight of Bill. I was in too much shock at this point to be scared of the clown itself.

We were looking from Bill, to each other. No one knew what to do. I felt someone push past me and my breathing sped up as soon as I realized it was Y/N.

"Take me." she said, trying to sound tough but I could her voice breaking.

"Y/N what the fuck?!" I yelled, feeling myself begin to panic.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mike added, sounding understandably angry.

"J-just get ou-out of here you guy-uys!" Bill yelled, gasping with IT's arm around his neck.

"No!" this time she yelled, and I felt tears start to burn my skin. "Take me!"

IT dropped Bill, throwing him into a coughing fit before standing tall and walking to her. I felt as though I couldn't breathe and if this weren't such a dire situation maybe I'd steal Eddie's inhaler.

"Well you are very pretty!" the clown giggled, running his large hand down her face. I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat but it wouldn't go down, instead shooting pain through my neck.

I saw Y/N's body shake which caused my heart to shatter into pieces. I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't let her sacrifice herself. I didn't want anyone to die.

He laughed a loud, childlike laugh before grabbing her neck, hard making her let out a yelp.

"Y/N!" I screamed, taking a step forward before Ben and Mike stopped me, holding me back. They couldn't afford to lose anyone that night and a part of me understood that but I couldn't sit here and watch her get killed by this son of a bitch.

I ripped free from Mike and Ben, whipping around. "What the fuck you guys?! We have to save-"

I was cut off by a scream from Y/N. I turned my head seeing IT's jaw unhinging, baring rows and rows of unruly teeth.

Before I could even think twice I bolted, grabbing Y/N's shirt and pulling her behind me only to scream out in pain myself.

Through the pain in my shoulder, I felt something wet and cold and as everything was fading out, I saw Y/N screaming in fear.

Everything went black.

Richie looked so lifeless in that hospital bed which is something you never thought you'd see; something you never wanted to see. The scariest part about it was that none of you knew if he was even coming back.

The rest of the losers had left about an hour before but you stayed, your fingers intertwined with Richie's.

You were out of tears. You wanted Richie to wake up, you needed him to wake up.

"You're so into him it's kind of sickening." Stan laughed, breaking you out of the trance you were in.

"Shut up, Stan!" you groaned, lightly slapping Stans upper arm which just made him laugh more.

You just blushed, looking down at your hands.

"Why don't you just tell him?" Stan continued after a few moments of silence and you just sighed, shrugging your

shoulders.

He shook his head when you didn't speak and decided to continue. "Seriously, Y/N. What do you have to lose?"

"We've been friends for so long, stan." you replied.

"Okay... and?" he was confused and you groaned though you couldn't really blame him. What you said didn't really give him any answer at all.

"I'm not even scared that he won't feel the same. I'd get over that... I've dealt with worse," you continued, "It's more so the fact that I can't lose- If it didn't work..." you couldn't finish your sentence.

Richie was a huge part of your life for years and you couldn't imagine it without him. He was your rock and you were his and he was the best friend you could ever ask for but there was always something more for you. You always pushed it aside, though. Relationships of any kind scared you as joining the losers club and trusting all of them was a huge step for you which Richie was there for.

If he did have feelings for you too, and you two tried a relationship beyond friends, what would happen when- if it didn't work out?

You decided not to tell him as you couldn't imagine a life without Richie.

"Please wake up." you murmured under your breath. You wanted to cry but there were no more tears left inside of you. You squeezed his hand, silently praying to no one in particular.

You sniffled, laying your head down on the edge of the hospital bed. "Please, Richie," you continued, a little louder, "I need you here, Richie I- I love you. Please, plsase wake up."

You stayed quiet, hoping for a response and felt the tears you thought you no longer had slide out of your eyes and onto the somehow still white sheets.

At that moment you were so caught up in your misery you almost didn't realized that something, or rather someone, squeezed your hand. Your breath hitched as you squeezed it back. You didn't want to fill yourself with hope just to see a still half-dead Richie laying in front of you.

"Y/N?" Richie whispered, causing your head to snap up.

"Holy fucking shit, Richie! Holy shit you're awake!" you cried, standing up and pulling him into the best hug possible at this point, "Fuck we were so scared we thought we lost-"

"You love me?" he cut you off, his voice still in a whisper as his body was still in a slight amount of shock.

You pulled away, an assumingly terrified expression on your face. "W-what?"

"I thought I heard you say that you loved me." He said, looking up at you, his hand still on your upper arm from when you pulled away from the him.

"Oh I-I um I didn't- I-"

"Is Bill rubbing off on you?" Richie smirked, somehow still making inappropriate jokes.

You huffed, slapping his good arm and falling back into you chair with your arms crossed over your chest.

"Really though." Richie said, now in a serious tone.

"Really what?" You asked, trying your best to play dumb even though you knew Richie could see past it.

He rolled his eyes, a small smirk still plastered on his face. "Okay, fine," you continued, "yes."

"Yes, what?" Richie pressed and you groaned.

"Fuck you, Richie okay yes I love you!" you bit your lip, playing with the hem of your shirt. "But I wouldn't have said it if I didn't think you were going to fucking die right in front of me."

You looked at Richie after realizing he wasn't responding and noticed there was now a frown on his face. You sighed, pulling your chair closer to the bed and grabbing his hand in yours once again.

"I didn't mean it like that." you said, just above a whisper.

"You just said you only told me you loved me because I was going to die." Richie grumbled, "what was it supposed to mean?"

You ran your free hand over your face and shook your head before looking at him again. "I meant that I told you because I realized that I was probably never going to have a chance to say it at all and I was scared."

Richie finally looked at you, a hint of something that you couldn't quite place in his eyes. "Why haven't you told me this before?"

"I didn't want to lose you, Rich. You're everything to me

and I wouldn't be able to deal with anything without you. Having you as a best friend was a lot less risky than having you as a boyfriend." you explained, the weird look still in his eyes.

He stayed silent and that made you nervous. "Say something..." you practically choked, a lump forming in your throat again.

He continued to stare at you before whispering a simple "kiss me."

"wha-what?" you stuttered, not sure if you had heard him correctly.

"either you kiss me or i'll have to kiss your mo-" you rolled your eyes, cutting him off by sitting forward and pressing your lips to his.

They were chapped and they felt rough against yours but you didn't mind. In fact, you never wanted it to end. Richie moved his good arm to the back of your neck, pulling you as close as he could to him, your lips still connected and his tongue now sweeping along your bottom one. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to meet yours as goosebumps ran down your spine.

This was everything you'd ever wanted. No matter how annoying Trashmouth was, you were never able to see yourself being so close to anyone else, hell, you didn't want to be that close to anyone else.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a soft, almost inaudible moan left Richie's throat, causing you to pull away and stare at him. For a split second his eyes were still closed but he soon opened them, a small frown forming on his now semi-red lips. "Why'd you stop?"

You just chuckled in response before getting out of your chair and quickly closing the door to the room which just confused Richie.

"What are you-"

"You're so dumb sometimes, Rich." you giggled, climbing onto the edge of his bed and kissing him once more, the tingles emanating across your skin again.

Richie's right hand was now placed on your hip, gripping it tight enough for you to stay where you were but not enough to hurt, though you probably wouldn't mind that.

As your tongues explored each other's mouths, you felt your way to the bedside table, grabbing around for your bag before pulling it to you. You pulled away from Richie again, causing him to groan. "Are you gonna do this often? Cause we'll have to have a serious chat about it."

But he shut up as soon as he realized that you were climbing on top of him, now straddling just hips.

You could see the heat rise to his cheeks and you felt it in yours too as you pecked him on the lips gently. "We don't have to do anything right now." You whispered against his lips, knowing he wasn't really doing great at the time.

He shook his head and pushed you up a little so he could see you, staring at you before smirking. "Why don't you be my doctor, Miss Y/N." He winked.

"Jesus Christ, Richie I'm never going to be able to have a moment with you!" You scolded, laying your head just below his chin.

Richie laughed, a real laugh. Something you loved to hear from him which you didn't hear often.

He ran his fingers up and down your arm softly, looking down at you. You were looking at the wall opposite from the two of you.

"I love you too, Y/N."

EHEM SOOOOO What did you guys think??? I haven’t written for anyone other than myself or my close friends in a long time so I hope it turned out alright. I really hope you liked it and be sure to give us a follow so you can see when we post more!

It would be greatly appreaciated if you guys could send in some requests of what you’d like to see next!

Thanks for reading!! xoxo - E.

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