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starlightshadowsworld · 1 year ago

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Bendy and the dark revival part 5

Thonks

The keepers have taken my friend! Locked him away like some animal! Just because he's big and strong.

But they don't need go after him! No! If they just make sure to feed him in time, Big Steve won't ever hurt a fly!

He loves the food from "the little Devil lounge" best.

If only someone one take the long road back through the sewers, climb up the elevator shaft and seek out his favourite thumping delicacy.

Then they would see how harmless he really is!

... I have... So many questions.

Big Steve?

Also this just feels like a trap.

Looks at giant ink monster

... I'm guessing this is Big Steve.

Jeez no wonder Bendy didn't wanna come here, the keepers have been torturing him.

Poor lil guy.

... Least I think so, can't quite hear the keepers logs.

Doesn't help that they sound like a glitchier version of Daleks and there's no subtitles. And my ears don't work too good.

One food run later, Big Steve happily noms.

That's where the ghosts live. Just beyond that door.

The keepers prison.

The Pit.

No one ever comes out, at least not the same.

Thanks, Heidi? For that creepy exposition. So your a lost one like Port.

Wonder if that's where the ink machine is?

But! I could open the door for you. I do know how! I really do!

I sense a catch here.

But first, may we play a game.

There it is.

Hide and seek in a creepy parallel ink world, fun.

Found ya.

Doors open and, she gave us a new ability.

Cool.

Looks at mark getting mad cos it would've saved him so much time earlier.

Or not.

Decontamination activated

How.. How are decontaminising ink? And for what??

Excuse me?

Hmm who would be in this world that kinda looks like a ghost like Joey did and is drawing in a prison

... Henry?

You must be really lost to be asking me for help.

It is Henry!

Why would you be a threat to them?

I'm what they call a Cyclebreaker. Once upon a time I knew how to start althe cycle over. And when that happens everything begins again.

Yup you've done that, many times.

Obviously Wilson and the keepers don't want that to happen.

Heh Wilson and the keepers, sounds like a band.

It turns out the Ink demon himself is the key. This world is his, but even he must obey it's rules.

For now at least.

If you can get him to look at something very specific, it will reset everything.

It's a real of film. Labeled, the end.

Ohhh in the first game, that's what he looked at before he turned into beast Bendy... And than it was over.

Makes sense if its the way to break the cycle if that's how Henry's been doing it for over 400 times.

They keep it upstairs in the Pit.

That's convenient.

I just wanna go home.

So did I.

Yeah that sympathy for Joey is fading... Guilty of not you still damned your best friend to his own personal inky hell.

Of your creation.

Annnd giant Betram Piedmont head statue is just... Here.

Oh shit is everyone from the last game minus Alison Angel and Sci Boris here?

Because they can't really die because of the ink and I'm betting Wilson would've locked em up.

Cos he's the worst.

... 👀Could Boris be here???

I mean, Heidi did say this is where the ghosts are.

... And Henry's spy glass thing is in contraband.

Are you worthy to walk with angels

Jee wonder who wrote that?

And there's someone playing I think that's a banjo??

Sammy!

Sat right in his werid inky summoning circle with his candles and mask on the ground.

Subject 418.

Missed you bud.

There's always hope

By a desk, I'm guessing that's Henry's.

And it showed up on the door Joey was standing next to.

Idk if its me but the Keepers are giving Projectionist vibes.

And from the hollowed darkness, from the wretched abyss a saviour comes at last.

Oh fuck off Wilson.

And we're laying unconscious in a lift with him. As he watches us.

... Why..

Rest yourself, Audery.

I'll be honest, inky and glowing he looks bout the same.

And no, how can anyone rest with you there?!

Your still weak.

I can still kick you where it hurts.

The keepers can be relentless to strangers. But there's nothing to fear, as long as I'm with you.

Your safe now.

... How is you get more creepier by the second..?

Does Joey's ghost know that your with his daughter?

Don't think he'd be happy with it.

You bought me here, you turned me into this... This thing!

This doesn't make sense! I've never done anything to you!

You haven't, but your gonna wanna..

Open your eyes and look around you!

Ah yes, ink, paper just like the last time I looked.

None of this makes sense.

The one thing I agree with you on... That felt icky to say.

Also get back bub!

Drawn walls. Nightmarish creatures.

Drawn walls does, that's pretty normal tbh. Nightmarish creatures, yeah makes sense.

An ancient studio that died out almost 30 years ago.

No that makes sense as well.

It's all fiction.

Careful, he's becoming self aware.

Reality guided by its masters pen.

Noo it was the ink machine.

The franchise isn't Bendy and the masters pen.

What do u want from me?

I need your help, to save my father's life.

Nope.

Nope not helping. Your father's probably worse than you.

And why is your father here?

What is with all the dad's here???

Also how dare you think you can do all this, do this to me and than demand I owe you anything?!

I said it before, and I'll say it again.

Fuck you Wilson!

And chapter 5 the dark revival begins.

This place isn't as safe as it once was.

Because your here.

Walks past keeper choking out a lost one

... OooKay than.

The demons evil continues to spread.

Than maybe stop getting around.

The world has begun to shutter

Because of you not allowing the cycle to go on.

He's lying Audery!

Hey Bendy, no yeah I believe you over him.

Be quiet!

Damn Audery.

What did you say?

It was nothing

Ohh so Bendy's talking, telepathically?

Probably for the best, Wilson would go nuts if he knew.

Oh and he's just shut us in here... Of course.

And there's a gun.

Hehe.

Jeez we're in everyone praises Wilson land with his Relax poster everywhere.

Creepy.

Welcome to the civilised world.

If civilised means people wanna line up and kiss your ass... I'd rather be a savage.

How do you like my signal towers?

How do you like my right hook?

They nullify the ink demons powers so he cannot pass them.

So no bendy zone.

How long did it take to come up with this?

... How long have we been here?

I wish I could say I invented them, but it seems our friends at the Gent Corporation had a demon problem of their own, long ago.

... Hmmm...a demon like Bendy?

Who's this lady?

Now my dear if you'll excuse me. I have a lot to prepare. We'll talk later, I promise.

Take all the time you need.

Also is that a portrait of yourself behind you with you holding a sword to a cowering picture of Bendy?

The ego on you... Also again, how long have we been here that you hag that painted.

I'm assuming painted cos that never happened for a photo to be taken.

Besides you must be very tired.

Tired of your bullshit.

A quick rest will do you good. Betty will show you too your room.

So this creepy maid looking genderbent eyeless Jack Lady is called Betty?

She's my housekeeper.

I'd have goouged my eyes out too if I was your house keeper, poor lady.

Among other things.

... To reiterate, poor Betty.

You never actually killer the ink demon, did you?

Call him out Audery.

No. He's too powerful to destroy.

Imagining Bendy just sat smirking like 😏 yup im too powerful.

So we sealed him away, trapped him in a different form.

One that was smaller, harmless.

... You made baby Bendy...

It was a fitting prison.

Grrrr

Although he seems to have found a way to free himself.

Because your pathetic and he's too powerful. Also no we will not be dealing with that

There's some nice fresh blankets all laid out for you. You'll be dreaming in no time.

Betty... Betty, tap twice if your being held against your will.

Wait Wilson. One more thing, if you needed my help, why didn't you just ask?

Would you have believed me?

... Yeah.

Yeah if you mentioned it after we got sent here and clearly you don't care if we did or not.

Wouldn't have believed me, like your speech earlier was any better.

Smh.

Come along! And no more dawdling this way now.

Through... The same door as Wilson... Oh boy.

Ah you're here at last, it's so exciting having you with us!

... Soo exciting...

Now, to give you some bearings, we're currently in the south wing. Wilsons laboratory is downstairs.

A wing? How fancy is this place? What is this a palace?... More like a tower where the princess is locked up.

So the ink demon is why the north wing is locked up and if I go there I'll be ripped to shreds if I don't go with Wilson.

Good to know.

It's not very often I have guests to look after. Almost everyone here either can't speak or they're completly mad.

... And what Betty, makes you different?

Finest bedroom here you should see where I sleep, ew.

Wilson got you in some nasty servants quarters? Fuck him you get this room when I bust out.

... I don't trust that "sleeping draft"...

Is it always night here?

It's always dark if that's what you mean.For as long as I can remember.

Are you... Very old.

Audery! You cant just ask that.

No, as far as I understand, I'm something quite new. Although, I didn't turn out the way I was supposed to.

So she came from the ink machine?

One in a long line of failed experiments.

Ohh she's one of Wilsons experiments.

But Wilson will keep trying.

And do you trust Wilson.

This is the realm of the ink demon his shadow hangs over us all I don't trust anyone.

Smart lady.

But Wilson takes care of me.

You poor thing.

Keeps me safe, he once said I remind him of something he called his mother.

Hes trying to save his father and his mother has preseumbly passed on and he's trying to recreate her?

Tell me is that a good thing. Where you too are from.

I'm not sure.

... Same...

I mean you remind him of his mother so much so he preseumbly gave you her name.

And he makes you sleep in what seems like nasty servants quarters, and keeps you around as your house keeper.

.... Doesn't paint a good picture...

And he'll keep trying until she's, what? Till he's perfectly recreated her?

And if that's his mother, what about his father?

I erm think we'll give the sleeping draft a miss... Don't take it Audery... Don't!

#bendy and the dark revival #Batim

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autisticsupervillain · 2 years ago

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It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

Nonbinary Battle Royale!

Conditions:

No restrictions. Speed Equalized.

Scenario:

Popeye is selling some of his spinach at the mall in town. An enthusiastic Kirby inhales his entire stock without being able to pay for it, egging Popeye on into starting a fight. Frisk attempts to break up the brawl, only to get sucked into. Oz happens to be going on a date with Calculester nearby, when the robot sees what's happening and expresses his distaste for all the violence. Seeing an opportunity to impress their boyfriend, Oz leaps in to stop the fight themselves.

Analysis: Oz

Ask yourself this: what does the ultimate embodiment of fear look like? What nightmarish, unholy abomination could inspire the phobias of all mankind?

Stop thinking, because you're wrong. Fear looks like a shy, awkward high schooler who is desperate for a date to prom.

Well, okay, high schooler is being generous. In the Monster Realm, everyone who goes to High School is 21 at the youngest and today's combatant is actually older than time itself. Meet Oz, the inky-dark embodiment of fear himself. His primary concerns in life are, as you might expect, passing his classes and getting laid, as is the same with everyone at Spooky High. How Oz ended up in this situation is actually rather ambiguous. It's implied that their origin story might be similar to Zoe's, that being that they were an eldritch abomination created by The Nothing meant to destroy all life who eventually saw the beauty of life and choose to live as a regular person, but the details are currently unclear and this is only our closest guess.

What is clear, however, is that Oz's otherworldly power hasn't diminished any, despite their more mundane occupation and goals. They still posses an extraordinary wealth of abilites worthy of a timeless god. Firstly, Oz is remarkably difficult to put down. Not only have they been unaffected by damage done to their soul, but they can regenerate from fatal injuries as well. They can regrow severed limbs, regenerate vital organs, and even revive from being completely ripped to shreds, provided that someone stitches them back together.

What's more, they're remarkably durable to match. His stomach can contain the Totem of Z'gord, which is powerful enough to cause earthquakes all across the school, he can trade punches with Damien, who survived punching the sun, and was completely unaffected by the game itself crashing, able to act to reverse the problem even as reality comes crashing down around his ears and his friends and narrator are corrupted beyond the ability to even move.

See, Oz has something of a Deadpool thing going on... or maybe Gwenpool more specifically. He is, to a certain extent, aware that he's in a video game and can leverage that to his advantage on occasion. For example, he can interact with characters from seperate video games entirely (even if he can't actually see them, do to their character models not existing in his game), he can move outside the boundaries of the game map to exit reality, and even turn the game off and on again at will, reducing reality to nothing and then restoring it with a thought. This awareness does not equate to perfect immunity, however. He ultimately can never escape the game and the revelation of such gives him an existential crisis in one of the endings, though he can interact with the world outside it some degree, such as interacting with the narrator or creating a website in the real world that can interact with the audience.

Even when they aren't breaking the laws of the game over their knee, Oz still has some absurd powers in their arsenal. They are fully aware of the fact that they have plot armor, which is what gets them into their constant unlikely shenanigans in the first place. They can give this plot armor away to other people, making it so no one will pay any attention to them and they'll be ignored by any major characters as unimportant. Then, they can steal this plot armor back just as easily. He can become one with the entire universe at will, becoming everywhere at once, and can summon abstract concepts to fight on their behalf. These concepts can be anything, from the concept of Biology to the concept of they themself, and these concepts can destroy other abstracts, erasing the ideas they represent from existence. For example, he once summoned the concept of Biology and had it kill the concept of Math, erasing math from existence and making it impossible to calculate anything. And canceling math class.

So, if Oz is this powerful, how does he struggle with anything? Well, because it's a dating sim, really. None of this really matters as far as getting a date to the Prom is concerned and all of his powers are only useful if they help with the current social situation. Why did he become one with the universe? To get inside a really high monster truck, of course. Why did he destroy the concept of math? To get out of math class. Hell, the school has a backup generator to restore the concept of math if it's destroyed, so no one really cares long term. Why did he hone his mind to make it immune to horrors that otherwise drive men mad? To go on a date with Zoe inside a realm that does exactly that, naturally. Does it matter that's he's unaffected by demons altering the fabric of reality? If that means they can join his rave then sure!

What matters is his social stats. Luckily, Oz has plenty of those two. He can start a rave of over 200 people in seconds, trick two angels into thinking he's God with his ventriloquism act, and become chairman of an international corporation in a single day. And if their stats aren't high enough for some reason, they can just rip them out of you, either by eating your organs, mocking you until your social skills become his, or just by enhancing his own character traits with magic spells.

There's also their outright weaknesses. First of all, Oz is willing to do almost anything to get laid or impress their friends, including basically all the bullshit mentioned above. They are a desperate people pleaser with a really bad case of both depression and social anxiety, so the opinions of others mean a lot.

Despite that, however, they are every bit the eldritch monstrosity you would expect from the embodiment of fear in raw power if not in personality.

Analysis: Kirby

Kirby, Kirby, Kirby. It's the name you should know, they're the star of the show, Kirby's the one. While this impossibly powerful little puffball's backstory is by an large a mystery, the widely accepted explanation is that they are a reincarnation of the immense god-like being known as Void that came about as a result of Void interacting with positive emotions. They are the positive counterpart to Zero's and Void Termina's dark and hateful incarnations, who came into being as a result of Void interacting with powerful negative emotions.

As a result of this, Kirby is paradoxically both horrifyingly powerful and unrelentingly cute, cuddly, and friendly. They may aspire to no higher cause than eating cake, making friends, and sleeping, but I do not exaggerate in the slightest when I call their power godlike. Kirby has been stated several times to have infinite power and has defeated beings amped by the Master Crown, which was stated to have the same. This alone would make them universe level at least, but they have feats that put them well above that. The parallel dimension known as... Another Dimension (great name guys, not confusing at all) is shown to contain multiple universes within it in both Return to Dreamland and Star Allies, at least sixteen of which are shown to be affected by Magalor's defeat, culminating in Another Dimension collapsing outright. This means that Kirby, at bare minimum, is a universe buster, possibly even a small multiverse buster if we take this as all sixteen universes being destroyed simultaneously.

But Kirby has far more than just raw power on their side. As a matter of fact, they are well known for their versatility thanks to their Copy Ability. With it, they can inhale an enemy or object into their maw and transmute it into either a star shaped projectile or a copy ability, allowing them to copy a wide variety of powers from their defeated foes. They can combine these abilities, store them for later, or transform these powers into allies who can fight alongside them. And provided their opponent is too big for them to inhale, Kirby has ways of copying their powers anyways. By tossing their ability at their foe as an energy projectile, they can transmute enemies into copy abilities or they can just scan enemies outright with the copy ability known as... Copy. Again, great name, not confusing at all.

These copy abilities come in a wide variety, ranging from those that grant Kirby mastery over a specific weapon to those who bestow Kirby with some form of elemental power. Notable ones include ice Kirby, who can freeze foes solid even if they can survive in space, cook Kirby who can transmute enemies into food, magic Kirby who can use magic for a variety of purposes, ranging from summoning food to summoning allies, and Copy Kirby, which can copy the powers of whoever Kirby scans. Their most powerful Abilities can even do damage to the fabric of reality itself, ranging from their Ultra Sword cutting holes into other universes to Time Crash, which creates an explosion so powerful that it damages time itself, effectively allowing Kirby to stop time.

Even without their Copy abilities, Kirby is remarkably tough. Their incredibly small size of a mere eight inches makes them remarkably tough to hit, they can regenerate from being impaled in an instant, can inflate themselves with air and fly through the sky, and summon a warp star to help them fly across the galaxy in seconds. And if all that sounds like a lot for one little pink puffball, Kirby can just speed dial up three other identical Kirby's to help kick your ass on command. Or throw a Friend Heart at you to forcibly befriend you.

And if you somehow make it through all of that and manage to kill Kirby? They can simply come back as a ghost, steal your life energy, and regenerate their body from nothing. Unless you can kill ghosts, Kirby's just gonna come straight back.

Having said all that, Kirby isn't perfect. While they are shown to be strangely technologically and scientifically adept, they have also shown to be incredibly naive. They've been manipulated into doing the villain's bidding on more than one occasion and they tend to simply jump headlong into situations without any kind of plan.

While Kirby may not be Nintendo's strongest character as is widely believed, they are every bit the godkiller you've heard they are. The next eldritch terror that steps foot on the peaceful planet of Popstar is gonna end up like all the rest, running for it's goddamn life.

Analysis: Frisk

Long ago there lived two races, monsters and humans. The two races coexisted peacefully, for a time, until war inevitably broke out. The humans overpowered the monsters and sealed them away within Mt. Ebott.

Years later, a small child would fall into Mt. Ebott, swiftly finding themselves trapped within the caverns of the Underground. Miraculously, despite the hostility and mistrust that the monsters showed towards them, the fallen child chose peace. Over time, they would befriend the denizens of the Underground, eventually finding a way to break the barrier and peacefully reunite humans and monsters. This child's name... was Frisk.

Of course, Frisk did not accomplish this feat alone. Next to their compassion, their most powerful asset was undoubtedly their DETERMINATION. This emotion is, in fact, a supernatural substance largely unique to humankind. With the immense amounts Frisk has their disposal, they are able to utilize supernatural powers and perform blatantly superhuman feats.

Frisk's most prominent ability is their power to SAVE and LOAD. By filling themselves with DETERMINATION, Frisk can SAVE all the progress they've made on their journey thus far, allowing them to later LOAD back to that point at will. This ability activates automatically upon death and can even allow Frisk to come back from having their soul destroyed. There is a common misconception about it though.

SAVEing and LOADing does not create multiple timelines. Yes, Sans refers to timelines in the plural when discussing Frisk's abilities, but he does not mean that in the sense of there being a multiverse. What he means is that every time you reset or LOAD, you're effectively erasing the timeline up until the point you reset at. Sort of like rewinding time. The timeline that was just erased is seperate from the timeline you're now in, but they do not co-exist. This is consistent with how SAVE and LOAD is discussed throughout the rest of the game. As such, no reality desroying feats in Undertale are multiversal in scale, but more on that later.

Regardless, Frisk's DETERMINATION is still so immense that they can outright override the powers of other DETERMINATION users, such as Flowey, and their own SAVE and LOAD powers require multiple human souls to be overridden themselves. Frisk is also shown to be have their memories remain unaffected by the timeline alterations of both themselves and others, even with their SAVE and LOAD powers otherwise being overridden.

Their DETERMINATION has even been shown to grant them superhuman strength, speed, and durability, which, within the shown limits of their powers, scales proportionally to whoever they are fighting. Even at their most basic level, Frisk is capable of surviving some pretty intense things. They can walk around in Hotland unaffected, despite it being hot enough to completely vaporize a paper cup, can survive Undyne's oven exploding in their face unharmed, completely no-sold an electric shock that visibly hurt Papyrus, and walked through the CORE unaffected despite it being filled with Ozone, among others. These feats do scale to their attack potency, as they can contend evenly with monsters who can hurt them even without any killing intent.

Furthermore, Frisk's durability also scales to their soul, as monsters attack on both a physical and spiritual level. This is backed up by the fact that armors that increase the durability of Frisk's soul are items logically wouldn't increase their physical durability in any way, such as ribbons, bandanas, and aprons.

What's move impressive about Frisk however, is what they can do when their DETERMINATION is pushed to its absolute limits. When at their peak, Frisk can contend with universe busting god-like beings, such as Omega Flowey and Asriel Dreemurr. Omega Flowey opens their fight by destroying the entire timeline/save file and Asriel openly boasts that he intends to destroy the world once he starts actually getting serious. (This is backed up by the fight descriptor saying "the world is ending" during the Asriel fight, as well as Asriel having infinite stats under the Check menu.) Furthermore, Frisk can continue to fight and move even after Flowey destroys the timeline, despite the fact that all that's truly left is a timeless abyss. This means that Frisk's speed is functionally infinite, as they can move just fine even when there is no time around with which to measure their speed. Frisk is even capable of harming Omega Flowey, albiet barely. It definitely appears that Frisk is not as strong as they are durable in this mode, as despite tanking attacks from Asriel, they cannot harm him.

In this amplified state, Frisk gains a few more useful abilities. At this point, they are capable of willing their soul back together upon its destruction, simply refusing to die. Furthermore, they can interact with the souls that Omega Flowey and Asriel have absorbed, turning them against their masters. They can even turn their own hopes and dreams into physical objects which they can absorb to heal themselves.

Having said all of that, Frisk's options are incredibly limited without DETERMINATION. They do carry a variety of weapons on them, yes, but those are widely an assortment of sticks and knives, weapons with pitiful range for the tier they're in. The best they have is the empty gun (which they can will into firing actual bullets) and the earpiece provided by Alphys, which can turn into a jetpack and allow them to shoot small lasers from their soul. The fact that they can simply RESET to try as many times as they have to also puts many of their greatest skill feats into question. Yes, they can outlast Undyne and Papyrus and Toriel, and even beat Asgore without any killing intent, but they had infinite tries to do so.

Their compassion is also a double edged sword. Integral to their greatest achievements, yes, but it also means that they will not fight unless it is absolutely necessary. The only times they ever threw a punch was when Asgore and Omega Flowey outright forced them to do so. Frisk is lucky, then, that they are such a gifted diplomat, able to reverse monsterkind's negative view on humans over the span of seemingly no longer than a day (though we are never given an actual timeframe for Undertale's events).

Frisk isn't a fighter, but their unending DETERMINATION ensures that they will overcome virtually any challenge that comes their way.

Analysis: Popeye

Popeye the Sailor Man is many things. An ever faithful boyfriend to his beloved Olive Oil, a combat hardened member of the navy, and the amphibious nonbinary sailor man icon we all deserve. No really, that happened. Look it up. But above all, he is one of classic cartoons all time heavyweight champions, on par with Bugs Bunny himself.

This little sailor had quite humble beginnings. After being born to the horribly named Poopdeck Pappy, Popeye was born horrifically ugly and deformed, prompting his father to run away in horror of what he had created. This caused Popeye to be adopted by the loving Whaler Joe, whom he'd look up for all of his boyhood years. Seeking to emulate his father, Popeye would join the navy, where he would learn to embrace his gift for violence.

Popeye had always been adept at beating the shit out of people, but it's only upon getting embroiled in World War 2, and competing with the loathsome bully Bruto for the fair Olive Oil's affections, that Popeye's skills would truly come into their own. This is because of the mythical miracle herb that Popeye had spent all of his life consuming known only as spinnach. Thanks to that, Popeye has an absurd level of superhuman strength, speed, and power that makes him among the toughest fighters in cartoon history.

Being a rubberhose animation icon, Popeye can freely morph and stretch his body like, well, rubber. He can inflate his muscles to huge proportions, stretch and bounce back at will to absorb blows, and inspire Monkey D Luffy with his cartoon antics. Again, look it up. Furthermore, he can completely break the laws of physics in the palm of his hand with ease. Whether by painting a battleship into existence, shooting fire out of his pipe to fly, flying normally anyways, or by turning completely invisible, Popeye is always capable of throwing out something you won't expect.

For example, one of Popeye's signature abilities is his power to punch so hard, whatever he hits is broken down into smaller elements. An anchor becomes a bunch of fish hooks, an animal becomes a steak stand, and racial stereotypes become even worse racial stereotypes. Use your imagination. That's another benefit to being from a rubberhose cartoon, Popeye's world is even more cartoonishly rascist than ours. Ah, 1940's America, how I loathe thee.

Moreover, Popeye's power may come from spinnach, but he certainly doesn't need it. He's eaten so much over the years, that he can still operate at a baseline superhuman level without it. Like that time God himself turned off the universe to kill Popeye and Popeye just... stood there and took it without blinking. And even if Popeye does need spinach for a boost, he can just will some into exist, either by waving his hand, drawing it, threatening the animator to give him some, or just letting the audience in the real world hand him some spinach when he's in a tight spot.

And if you think you can just kill Popeye before he eats any, you're dreaming. Because even after being completely erased from existence, Popeye's nothingness was able to eat a can of spinnach and come back good as new. Popeye's power is so great, not even his animator is safe, as Popeye is able to not only tear and break his own animation frames, but also beat the hell out of his own animator. Meaning he's more or less beat the shit out of two different versions of God.

So, if you dare choose to mess with Popeye, always remember who you're dealing with. You're fighting one of cartoon's all time heavyweight champions, truly a Sailor Man to be feared.

Throwdown Mashup:

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Throwdown Breakdown:

Oh, boy, here we go.

First off, the fact that everyone here has such ridiculous regenerative and survivability options really does kneecap the effectiveness of a combatant's versatility. A lot of Kirby's copy abilities are complete dead weight when Frisk or Popeye can just regenerate from them and get right back to it. And while Oz's regeneration isn't as good, their plot armor and ability to just... become one with the entire universe at will (something which only maybe Popeye has the range to actually destroy) gives him a similar buffer. This means that everyone here will have to rely on specific win conditions.

Popeye can just transmute his enemies by punching them, so his fighting style isn't really going to be effected by this. Similarly, Frisk's go-to in character is to either wait out their opponents or talk them down, so not being able to kill their enemies doesn't really affect their approach either. It's Kirby whose the most kneecaped by this, as 90% of their arsenal is going to rendered moot, limiting them to just Friend Hearts and transmutation as viable win options. So while they can use Copy to gain abilities from their enemies, those abilities aren't really going to be much help long term. Especially because it's going to take everyone awhile to realize that everyone can just keep healing.

Oz is in a similar position, as he's pretty limited down to just his conceptual destruction if he wants to actually win here. No one present has any way to survive that level of existence erasure, Frisk can't reset if the very idea of Frisk doesn't exist and Popeye can't eat spinach if he, has a very concept doesn't exist. Furthermore, Oz has a lot of direct counters to the other fighter's abilities. Their resistance to mind manipulation should resist the Friend Hearts, they can steal Popeye's ability to interact with the fourth wall from him, and just steal Frisk's charisma from them entirely, completely nullifying Frisk's one win condition. Hell, Oz could just destroy the concepts of spinach or DETERMINATION to reduce them both to ordinary humans.

As such, I feel like this comes down to Kirby vs Oz. Kirby's small size, numerous abilities, and summons should give them ample opportunity to land friends hearts or transmute their enemies with a thrown star, so they and Oz have the biggest leg up over their competition.

Kirby cannot survive conceptual destruction and can't hurt abstract beings. They've simply never shown the ability to do so. Kirby has never punched the concept of Math in the face before. As such, they'd have to beat Oz before he can get that off. Since Oz resists mind manipulation, Friend Hearts are a no go and Oz is too big to fit in the pot so Cook is out too. As such, Kirby will have to throw a copy ability at Oz and transmute him that way to win. Time Crash won't give Kirby this opportunity because Oz has been unaffected by time crashing before, such as that time he turned off the universe or that time the entire game crashed and only he could act. And if Oz becomes one with the universe, Kirby's screwed because they've never been shown to transmute something that massive in scope before. Oz would resist all their abilities by virtue of sheer size alone.

While the free for all nature of this fight means that anyone can win and there are plenty of scenarios where Oz loses this, such as Popeye punching him into a puddle of ink or Kirby throwing a copy ability star at him immediately, Oz's more direct counters to everyone else's win conditions makes this their game more often than not.

In terms of who wins most often, I put at Oz, then Kirby, then Popeye, then Frisk. If only because Oz can just... steal Frisk's only win condition from them. Popeye is the only one with enough destructive capacity to actually do anything about Oz becoming one with the universe (being universe level and actually being able to destroy the universe are two different things in fiction and Popeye's the only one here whose arguably able to do both, depending on how you interpret the whole "destroying the animation cell" thing), and Kirby's size, summons, and mobility give them plenty of opportunities to land Friend Hearts and over win conditions. It's just that no one has any direct counter to Oz's concept summoning and destruction.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Oz!

#fictional throwdown fridays #monster prom #undertale #thimble theater #kirby franchise #kirby #oz yellow #frisk #popeye the sailor man #Youtube

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just-bendy · 2 years ago

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Bendy, This May be a Touchy subject But Do you Still Have Your Abillities & Powers over Ink? Likewise, Your Ink Demon & Beast Transformations?

Bein' a toon means I can squash and stretch myself however I like, but also bein' made out of ink just takes that to the next level. I can do almost anythin' I want with my ink, but when it comes to the big guy...

Well, when I first got that power I had a hard time controllin' him! I wasn't made havin' that power, but along the way it got passed to me. Ever since then I've never felt right, and I think the others could tell too. I worked my ass off tryin' to keep him under control and I'm a little better off nowadays. However, I still can't help but turn into him when I'm feelin' real angry, an' thats pretty terrifyin'.

If I focus on all the rage and hatred within me, I can turn that into a big, ugly inky monster.

But I don't really like bein' this guy. He's harder to control when I'm angry and I don't like myself when I'm that way. If I become him for too long I start to get a headache and he really just takes a lot out of me.

It really doesn't help when I'm him I get these... urges, but that's enough a that now.

Like I said, I've been trainin' to control my power and I'm mostly better at using 'em now. Along with all that, I learned I could transform my body into anythin' I want, so that was pretty fun to find out. The ink manipulation's pretty neat, there's nothin' like bein' able to control your own flesh, am I right?

Of course it's good at protectin' others and for self defense! Now no one can ever mess with me or my friends, unless they're lookin' to get themselves hurt. But, it's... an evil power so I have to be more careful usin' it around the people I care about.

As for the paws to hooves thing, well let's just say that along with my transformation abilities...

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traumxrei-archive · 2 years ago

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Ok! I've got it! I've decided that I'd like to request Jamil for #5! 😤 I am looking forward to reading all of these!!!! -Jamil Lover anon

【 danse macabre (a dance with death) 】

prompt #5: It’s time to fight an overblotted person and if he don’t tell them something now, he might not live to tell them later

gender neutral! prefect, includes overblot spoilers for book 5, 600 followers event (closed)

author's note: HELLO JAMIL LOVER ANON !! so sorry that it took this long for me to put this out hhh i wanted to wait for book 5 to finish before finally publishing this,,,,truthfully it's been sitting half-finished for a long while before i finally finished it today ^^ i hope you enjoy it nonetheless ^^

[ or read it on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Blot.

Jamil knew the touch of blot more intimately than others. He had felt it upon his own skin, myriads of black ink webbing around his body; giving way for his anger and resentment to burst forth. He remembered the monster that loomed over him, one borne of greed that would take and take and take until he was left an empty shell with no magic left to give.

Now there was no denying that Jamil saw the signs. The furrow in Vil's brow that never seemed to go away. The tick of irritation in his jaw whenever the word "beautiful" was uttered towards his rival. The venom dripping from his mouth as he exchanged pleasantries with the RSA student— who really genuinely thought they were friends.

It was pitiful; almost akin to seeing a mirror of himself just months ago. Struggling to walk the line of right and wrong. Struggling to hold in all the deeply seeded emotions. Struggling to breathe correctly without feeling suffocated.

So when he saw Kalim running for the dressing rooms, he made his move and just prayed that nothing too bad would happen. Especially since the Prefect wouldn't be able to protect themself from any of Vil's curses.

Snake Whisper proved to be useful once again, and that Neige LeBlanche kid? Even if he was a pretty face, his magical abilities didn't hold a candle to anyone from NRC he met so far. It was too easy to manipulate him into gathering the crowd, easier still to shout of Neige performing outside and to convince the first years of the necessary actions to be taken.

Jamil got on top of the magic carpet, speeding into the hallway. An instinctive fear washed over him as he felt a strong pulse of magic close to where he knew everyone would be.

Purple fog slowly rolled out of the hallway, and Jamil could see four figures standing in front of dressing rooms, but he was already too late. Whatever Rook and Kalim had said, it only seemed to quicken the effects of blot that had already taken root somewhere deep inside of the third year.

Jamil watched as that inky blackness seemed to drip out of Vil, enveloping him like a cape, golden feather protruding from his head as he laughed; frantic and freed. This was worse that he could've ever expected.

"Hop on!" He yelled, grabbing Grim by the scruff as the others clambered onto the carpet. He went as fast as he could, away from the stinging dizziness of the fog and into the coliseum's vast center.

His three passengers were still coughing as they got off the magic carpet. Jamil rummaged through his pockets, taking out some simple all-cures he had made.

"Kalim!" He tossed two at his ward and Rook, before approaching the Prefect and Grim, who somehow looked worse than ever. "Drink these. They're all-cures and should get rid of the poison's effects temporarily."

The Prefect smiled; a shadow of their usual smile, but they thanked him nonetheless, "Thanks, Jamil. I knew Vil disliked Neige, but...it seemed that his dislike ran a lot deeper than I expected."

"Yes, well," Jamil pulled them up to their feet. "We never know what a person is going through after all." Good, the color was returning to their face. Even Grim looked more like himself when he complained about how bitter the potion was.

"We have to evacua— Eh? All the people are gone?" Kalim tilted his head and Jamil resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Just how many years have I followed you around?" Jamil wrung out his hands, feeling a slight headache as he kept up his unique magic's effects. "I had everyone evacuated with the help of the first years."

As if on cue, the three first years made their way back, voicing their concerns of a purple fog around the coliseum. Jamil cursed under his breath. He knew that the stretch of power between him and a third-year student would've been different, but to think Vil was capable of trapping them so quickly—!

A loud boom sounded before chunks of rock came flying out from the hallway where Vil was left. It seemed that he wouldn't be going down without a fight.

"The hell's happenin'?" Epel shouted as the ground shook, stones cracking under the sheer pressure of Vil's magic.

"Save the explanations for later!"Jamil shouted, tightening his grip on the Prefect's wrist. "First, let's dodge his attacks!"

It was fitting that he said that, because right after, Vil launched a large orb of magic right at them. Jamil jumped to the right, dragging the Prefect with him. The resounding boom of the attack left a crater in the ground, scattering dust and rocks into the air as if it was nothing.

He scrambled to get behind a bigger chunk of debris, wincing at the scrapes he got as he sat up, "Hey, are you okay?"

"'M fine," They said, the dust already caking their clothes. "I should've said something earlier..."

"You couldn't have avoided this outcome," Jamil said cautiously, peeking over the rock to see the others frantically dodging Vil's attacks. "Now, please look at me."

The Prefect kept their eyes closed for a moment, "If I do look at you, please don't use your unique magic on me."

"Prefe—"

"I can't just...run away while you guys are forced to fight." Jamil felt a rise of searing anger at the base of his throat. How could they be so stupidly unaware? Even if they were there, there wasn't much they could do to help considering their severe lack of magic.

Then he remembered the stubborn set of their eyes as they fought against him, not once backing down from his spells nor the hypnotized students flocking around them. Even if the students from Octavinelle were dubious at best, they had stuck by them throughout the whole of the overblot. And he realized then and there that was nothing that could convince them to do otherwise for this overblot, especially not when their closest friends were involved.

"You..." Jamil pressed a hand to his brow. "I won't use my magic on you. Instead, you promise to stick close to me so I can at least protect y—"

There was a loud crash as magic collided with magic, and he could see Rook's light magic tangling with the darkness of Vil's tainted spells. Jamil dragged himself behind one of the stone pillars, breathing out harshly as he faced them.

They were looking at him now; properly meeting his eyes in a show of trust that somehow made Jamil's heart ache. And he faintly wondered if he would have another chance like this. What if this battle were to be his last? Could he really let them go without at least...saying something?

"...Prefect, I..." Jamil for once, was at a loss for words. What do you say to someone who mattered? Someone who mattered so much that it even hurt to think of being without them.

What would you say to someone who you might be seeing for the last time?

"I..."

The words wouldn't come. He was stupid to think that they would come easily, especially after he spent so long denying it himself. He met their eyes once more, and he faintly wondered how he looked to them. Was it pathetic, to hide away like this when everyone else was out there fighting?

"Jamil," His eyes met theirs. "You're...shaking."

He...was? Him? He brought a hand to his face, and found that yes, he was shaking. The grip on his sleeve tightened just a little bit.

"Are you exerting yourself too much?" Their voice continued. "You're still using your magic on Neige. And..."

There was a hand covering his, and when he looked up there was this gut-wrenching smile on their face, "I know. You don't have to say it here."

Jamil frowned, "But—"

"We won't die," The way they said it was so firm. Like they had utmost confidence in their words and their words only. "You can tell me after, I'll...I'll pretend I didn't know."

His throat burned as he swallowed, "I just...don't think I can leave without saying it. I like you," Jamil shook his head, holding onto their hand lightly. "No, it's more than that, I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to lose you."

"I won't get hurt," There it was. That conviction once again. "You promised that you'd protect me. So let's go." They were right. He knew they were and yet he couldn't help but want to hold on to this just a little longer. Just for a little while.

"Okay," He said, drawing in a deep breath. "Let's beat some sense back into Vil-senpai. And we'll talk again."

"Right," They nodded, taking his hand and pulling them both into the fray of battle. Jamil pulled out his magic pen, immediately putting up a barrier as Vil launched another attack.

"Oi! What took you!?" Ace asked as he dodged more rubble.

"It seems trying to convince this one to leave is an impossible task," Jamil said, hoping that he sounded more calm than he was.

"Of course! My henchman's not the type to leave people behind!" Grim said, clinging onto the Prefect like a leech.

"Let's get Vil-senpai back," They said with a squeeze to his hand. "And after we'll have a grand afterparty, and we'll make him treat us."

"I second that!" Kalim said, looking as bright as ever even with the current situation. "Let's host it at the practice room!" Jamil inwardly sighed, knowing that the responsibility for cleaning up would somewhat fall onto him.

He felt lighter, even as he let go of their hand to take a more offensive stance, "Remember your promise."

"Yessir, I'll stick to you like glue."

"This isn't the time for..." Jamil had to turn his head to hide his smile. "Nevermind. Let's just get this over with."

He set his sights towards the blot-riddled Vil.

Blot.

Jamil knew the touch of blot more intimately than others. He would never let it happen again. He wouldn't let this overblot end everything. Not when he had something that he chose to protect. And especially not when he finally had feelings that were finally his own.

thank you for reading this...kind of fluff, kind of angsty jamil fic !! i hope you enjoyed, and if you'd like to see more, go on to my masterlists :DD

#/trau writes #/trau fics #jamil viper *sobs*#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland headcanons

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grailfinders · 3 years ago

Text

Fate and Phantasms #201

Welcome to Fate and Phantasms Season 2! With our vacation over, we're gonna hop straight into the queen of beasts and pranks, Anastasia! Since she gets a lot of her power from a fictional character, making her a Silverquill Warlock just makes sense. Kinda. Check out her build breakdown below the cut (but expect Lostbelt 1 Spoilers), or her character sheet over here!

Next up: We're going whole hog!

Race and Background

Viy is... something else entirely, but Anastasia is clearly a Human from a Variant timeline, a.k.a. a lostbelt. This gives her +1 Charisma and +1 Intelligence, proficiency in Sleight of Hand to sneak rocks into snowballs, and the Elemental Adept feat to ignore cold resistance and bump all cold damage dice up so the minimum they can roll is a 2. We get a disappointingly small amount of snow and ice in this build (turns out Demons are mana hogs), but this'll make sure the ice you do get has some bite to it.

Ability Scores

Make your Charisma super high this time, you're good at messing with people and dealing with extraplanar monsters, both of those are charisma for some reason. Dexterity is next for a better chance at playing practical jokes on people. You gotta be sneaky and have fast hands, that's dexterity. Your Intelligence is also pretty high, you have to come up with schemes to act upon them. Wisdom's decent, but it's not like Yaga are good liars anyway. Your Constitution isn't great though, turns out you're weak to bullets, but we're dumping Strength. Nobles typically don't turn to heavy lifting, and you died when you were 17, so that's two strikes against the "buff Ana" theory. Finding out she died at 17 also makes the degree to which a certain part of this fandom gets horny for Anastasia waaaay creepier. Like, they probably don't know she's a kid, and that's FGO's fault, but still.

Class Levels

Aaanyway, let's start leveling! As a 100% Silverquill Warlock build, you'll find the pen is mightier than the sword! And the pen, in this metaphor, is a terrifying demon. The swords are still swords. You get Wisdom and Charisma save proficiency, as well as Arcana and Religion. Your doll's into the former and your boss is super into the latter. Not Kadoc, the guy who's actually in charge. Warlocks get Pact Magic, letting you cast one spell per short rest. You'll get more & stronger spell slots as you get stronger, but they all recharge on short rests. Grab the cantrips Eldritch Blast for casterballs, and Frostbite for ice. You also get first level spells like Armor of Agathys for a protective layer of ice, and Hex, Viy's first attempts at creating weaknesses. You deal an extra 1d6 necrotic damage to the target each attack, and they get disadvantage on one kind of ability check. If they drop to 0 HP, you can even move the spell over to a new sucker for up to an hour. The fun doesn't stop there, though! Your subclass makes you an Eloquent Apprentice, giving you proficiency in Deception and Insight, plus you get the Vicious Mockery cantrip to demoralize enemies. You can also use Viy's eyes to plant Silvery Barbs into enemies, weakening them and strengthening your allies at the same time. You can force a creature to re-roll a successful attack, check, or save, and take the lower roll. If the new roll fails, you can then give another creature effectively advantage on an attack, check, or save within the next minute. You can use this as much as you want, but after succeeding once, you'll have to burn a spell slot to reuse it before the end of a long rest. You... don't have many of those.

Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations! Grab Armor of Shadows for not dying, and Lance of Lethargy to make your eldritch blasts extra icy! Now they slow down someone you hit once per turn. You can also cast Unseen Servant so Viy can carry stuff for you!

Third level warlocks get the Pact of the Chain, so you can have your little dolly now. You also get a second level spell, Hold Person! It's not cold damage, but it does frost over a person and make it easier to beat them up!

Fourth level warlocks get their first Ability Score Improvement, so bump up your Charisma for better spells! You can also cast Mind Sliver to mess up people's minds, and Ray of Enfeeblement to weaken them further.

This level you get third level spells like Spirit Shroud! More slowing, and more cold damage! You're also a Sign of Ill Omen, letting you cast Bestow Curse once per long rest.

Sixth level silverquills can summon Viy in his big shadow form thanks to Inky Shroud! You learn the Darkness spell, and you can cast it for free once per long rest! If you cast it for free, you can see through Viy, and he'll deal a bit of psychic damage to creatures that start their turn in him. If you want him to be a bit less smokey, you can Summon Shadowspawn, creating a shadow guy that can beat people up an deal cold damage and scare people!

Fourth level spells! Grab Elemental Bane to make your cold spells even colder once a turn. You get another invocation too, and Devil's Sight will let you see through all sorts of darkness, even if it isn't Viy.

Another ASI! Max out that Charisma for super strong spells! You also get Raulothim's Psychic Lance, which deals a buncha psychic damage if they fail an intelligence save, and it'll incapacitate them too if they fail. That freezes them up just enough that they can't take actions or reactions. They can still move around, but they can't do much to help.

Fifth level spell time. Ice don't care about what it's freezing, so grab Hold Monster. You also get the invocation Ghostly Gaze, which'll let you see through solid objects, up to a minute per short rest!

Tenth level silverquills can add an Infusion of Eloquence to their spells, changing the damage type to Psychic or Radiant. Any creature hurt by the spell takes extra damage, and is also charmed (radiant) or frightened (psychic) of you until your next turn. You can do this proficiency times per long rest. Slap it on a spell that does damage over time like hex and you're in business! It's a shame that it takes the ice out of your spells, but it'll really weaken some enemies! Also, grab Prestidigitation. The only thing better than a rock in a snowball is a rock in a snowball that'll disappear after you throw it!

Eleventh level warlocks get a sixth level Mystic Arcanum, letting you cast the spell once per long rest. If you want more Anastasia goodies, grab Investiture of Ice to freeze up your foes. If you want more Viy goodies, grab Eyebite to weaken your enemies with just a glance. Either's good.

Now that your charisma's all good, use this ASI to bump up your dexterity for better sneaking and AC! You can also Mire the Mind (tho really you're more miring the body, with ice), casting Slow once per long rest.

You get a seventh level MA now, so pick up Power Word Pain. If a creature has less than 100 HP, it'll be super hurt, with a speed of 10' maximum and disadvantage on all attacks, checks, and saves, other than constitution. If it tries to cast a spell, it also has to make a save or it wastes the slot!

On a completely unrelated note, fourteenth level silverquills learn a Word of Power. (It's actually two words? idk) You can invoke Deadly Despair in an enemy who fails a roll due to your silver barbs, giving them vulnerability to a damage type until the start of your next turn. Alternatively, you can use a Selfless Invocation as a reaction, giving a creature resistance to the damage they're taking, and you take as much psychic damage as the damage that gets through. This one's why Silverquill beat out the undead warlock; now you can take a bullet for the ones you care about!

Fifteenth level warlocks get an eighth level MA, so grab Maddening Darkness for even more spooky smoke. a 60' radius sphere turns into darkness like the other spell, but creatures that start their turn in the sphere make a wisdom save, taking a bunch of psychic damage if they fail. Your eyes get even better thanks to your Witch Sight, letting you see through shapeshifters and people with magical disguises. People tend to keep that stuff hidden for a reason, and now you get to find out!

Use this ASI to bump up your Constitution. A lot of your spells need concentration, so it should probably be a bit better. Also, this gives you 16 HP instead of 1; Hit points get changed retroactively.

Seventeenth level warlocks get their big ninth level spell! Grab Imprisonment to freeze someone away forever! (Okay, not for "forever" ever, but a really long time.) If the target fails a wisdom save they're trapped, and don't need to breathe, eat, drink, or age. It also can't be found with magic. There's a lot of options, but you can probably talk your DM into letting you ice someone over. There are three ways the target can be set free if they fail the save: 1) A ninth level dispel magic, either on the prison or on the material component you used to cast the spell. 2) You try to make another prison using the same material component. That's a no-no. And 3) a special condition you set, accepted by the DM. The condition has to be reasonable, and possible to happen.

Eighteenth level warlocks get one more Invocation, and the Chains of Carceri will make you just a bit icier. Now you can cast Hold Monster at will, if only against celestials, fiends, and elementals. You can only cast it on the same creature once per long rest.

One last ASI, so bump up that Constitution again for more HP! You also get one last spell; it sucks we can't go back and grab the other sixth level spell we want, but you can grab Fear instead. Viy's a pretty creepy dude.

The capstone ability of the warlock class makes you an Eldritch Master. And by that it makes your patron an Eldritch Master, because you have to spend 1 minute begging your Viy to use this feature. It recharges all your spell slots for free, but you can only use this once per long rest.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

While it doesn't have as many spells as fire damage, ice damage is still a pretty solid pick to specialize in, and thanks to Elemental Adept there's only a very small number of creatures that can slow you down. Just don't play this character in Icewind Dale, and you'll be set.

You have plenty of ways to debuff your foes, ranging from slowing them down, freezing them in place, frightening them, charming them, and weakening their attacks and saves. Unlike Abigail, you diversify your status effects, and you can still deal plenty of damage at the same time, with powerful spells and the ability to shove vulnerabilities into people as a reaction. And those debuffs are both effective and flexible! Spells like Vicious Mockery plus your Silvery Barbs let you tank any kind of save the enemy tries to do. Elemental Bane works for all sorts of damage types, not just cold, and Bestow Curse literally just lets you do whatever you want if your DM signs off on it.

Your Eyesight is incredible, with the ability to see in the dark, through walls, and even through magical disguises. You can pull apart mysteries pretty well with those peepers.

Cons:

A lot of your spells require Concentration, which you aren't that good at. It also means you have to pick one and stick with it for the duration.

On a similar note, being a pure warlock build means you only get a maximum of 4 spells per short rest. We took a couple invocations to help with this, but it's still a small number of slots.

While you can be terrifying on your own with Viy's assistance, it's clear a lot of your features work better with teamwork, so fighting on your own can be a little awkward. For example, deadly despair lasts until the start of your next turn, so if you use your silvery barbs to block an attack, you won't get any damage out of it.

#fgo #fate grand order #dnd 5e #Anastasia #Warlock

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trashboatprince · 3 years ago

Text

Since I’m still in a sci-fi mood (along with, like, monsters and romance stuff too, but that’s always there), and I haven’t been able to really... make any new written content recently, I decided to rework an old one-shot I wrote for the space pirate au with how my Henry, Hugo, met Bendy in it.

I honestly don’t remember if I ever posted it here, I know I posted it on discord for my friends to read, but I’m posting up a better version here. Plus, rewriting an old drabble might help me get back into the swing of things when it comes to writing! Especially since I’ve got a zine entry to work on.

As always, Hugo is a half human/half alien (Asterian), and he’s fourteen in this. Bendy is a being from another universe or dimension, it’s unclear where Bendy’s from, but he’s a demon.

Asterians are a race of aliens that have the ability to travel through the vacuum of space with no need to breathe and have bioluminescent skin, but because Hugo is part human, he can’t last as long in space as he should.

On with the fic!

Hugo had lost count of how long he had been left on this stupid hunk of space rock, but he knew that he would probably be dead in due time.

He considered that he’s probably got about an hour or two left, and knowing the Butcher Gang, they’ll either show up last minute to watch him suffer before putting him back on the ship, or they’ll just let him perish. They’re real jackasses like that.

At least he took his sketchbook with him after they threw him off the ship for their own enjoyment, but still, not much to draw when all around him was just inky darkness and a weak light source from a distant star.

He sighed, soundless, his skin gently flashing a neon green, starting from his face down to his fingertips.

“Dat’s a real fancy trick ya can do, kid.”

Hugo’s eyes widened and he turned, shocked to have heard a voice, when he normally couldn’t hear anything in the vacuum of space. He was surprised to see something moving in the darkness of space around him. Something shifted, specks of lights moving around in front of him, before something formed. It looked like a wide, cartoon-ish smile, and from there a whiteness started to spread, forming an odd shape. Then two black, nearly full ovals, with little cuts in them, appeared in the white. It was a face!

“Hiya!” The face greeted in a childish voice, though clearly accented. The shape got closer and as it stepped onto the rock with Hugo, the half-human saw a shape form.

The darkness of space took on legs, oddly shaped, along with a long tail, them a small body that was sorta shaped like a bean. Arms with clawed hands followed, and the face seemed to have more of a head shape to it, though clearly shaped like a strange crescent form. The blackness of the body was covered in what looked like stars, twinkling and flashing, a variety of colors.

“What?” The strange creature asked. “Ya not gonna greet me?”

Hugo frowned, gesturing to his throat and then opened his mouth before shaking his head, his skin flashing involuntarily.

“Ah, right,” The creature nodded, frowning, “ya guys in dis universe can’t talk in da vacuum of space. Hold on.”

He snapped his fingers, the snap actually made a sound, and a bubble surrounded the whole rock. Hugo let out a surprised laugh, before slapping a hand over his mouth, blinking. “W-what?”

“Just a li’l trick, super easy to do!” A grin formed on the other’s face. “It’s made outta natural gases dat drift around us, can’t just make it all, ya know, willy-nilly, but it’s super simple! So, what’s yours dat mine’s Bendy!”

Hugo had to take a moment to register what this guy, Bendy, has said. “It’s, uh, it’s Hugo.” He replied, coughing, trying to sound deeper than he naturally was.

“Hugo, huh?” Bendy grinned brightly. “Nice to meet’cha! So, whatcha doin’ out here in an asteroid belt? Not really a social spot fer ya... what are you?”

“I dunno.” Hugo shrugged. “Human and somethin’ else, I reckon. What exactly are you?”

“Demon!”

“Demon? You mean, like, those human monsters?”

Bendy snorted loudly at this. “Pah-lease! Nonononononono- weeeellll... yes? No? Maybe so! Hard to tell, I mean, demons an’ angels aren’t technically natural to dis dimension, but we exist! We’ve been to Earth! I’ve been there, a number of times, really nice, an’ kinda bad, but it’s got lots of fun stuff there! Ya ever been?”

Hugo shook his head. “No, never really been in that area of the galaxy. Been, uh, stuck in situations were I don’t get to pick where I go.”

The grin slipped on Bendy’s face, as if he was reading the situation and figured out what Hugo was referring to. “Ah, I getcha. Still, maybe you’ll get to see it! It’s pretty neat!” The grin returned and cosmic eyes glanced to the sketchbook resting next to Hugo. “Oh! Ya draw?”

There was a nod, and Bendy asked to see. Hugo let him and Bendy started to look at the sketches and drawings Hugo’s done over the past few months. He seemed rather excited and giddy about them, chatting and pointing out what he loved, or pointed out what was good but could use some improvement.

It was... kinda nice, Hugo thought as he sat there, listening to Bendy ramble on and on. He hadn’t really had anyone to talk to in ages, not since his escape from his previous life and being cabin boy on the Butcher Gang’s ship didn’t give him much respect from anyone onboard, so having a strange being this excited to talk to him was like a breath of fresh air.

“So, why are ya sittin’ on this floatin’ rock, Hugo?” Bendy asked after a while, when their conversation had turned into small talk and such.

“I got left behind for no good reason by the Butcher Gang, they’re the pirates I ‘work’ for.” Hugo stuck out his tongue, making a face. “They’re a bunch of lowlife bastards, is what they are! I bet I could be a better pirate than them any day!”

“You wanna be a pirate?”

“Yeah!” Hugo got to his feet, grinning. “I wanted to be a ranger when I was a kid, but I think a pirate would be cooler! Better! I can make a name for myself, I can rule the skies in my own ship! One day, I’ll have my name known across the galaxy! People will fear the name Hugo, no more lookin’ down on me and thinkin’ I’m just some freak or useless mutt!”

Bendy stared at him for a moment, quietly, and Hugo suddenly felt self conscious, before Bendy’s grin grew even bigger than it had before, nearly face splitting. His eyes sparkled with stars, brightly, it was so strange. “That... SOUNDS AMAZIN’! Can I join!? Can I be part of yer crew, Hugo!?”

Hugo was a bit caught off-guard by this. “You... you wanna be part of my crew? Why?”

“Cause dat sounds like so much fun! Look, I’m a drifter, I explore wherever I drift to, but dat gets so borin’ after so long! An’ bein’ a space pirate sounds like a blast! I’ll help you escape, an’ you an’ I can go on a bajillion adventures together!”

Bendy shoved his hand out at Hugo, smiling. “I’ll make yer dreams come true, Hugo. If ya want mah help.”

“...” Hugo looked at the offered hand. “What do you get outta this? No offense, but from what I know about demons, they like to make deals.”

“None taken.” Bendy shrugged, casually. “I getcha, not easy to trust a demon, we do have a rep fer deals an’ da like, kinda ruins it fer the honest demons like me. But listen, all I want outta this is a fun life! An’ I think yer just da guy to make dat happen.” He winked and Hugo chuckled.

“Alright, you’ve got a deal, Bendy!” Hugo took the offered hand with manic glee.

“Wait, you just... took the deal? Just like that?” Harrison asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you not consider that it could have been a trick?”

“Honestly?” Hugo shrugged. “I considered that, yeah, but Bendy sounded honest, and somethin’ about him screamed ‘he’ll be the most important friend you’ll ever have’. And I was right.”

Hugo chuckled, rubbing at his right palm, where black mark was in his skin, like a tattoo. It was Bendy’s mark, meant for protection and connection. Harrison had asked about it, had asked how Hugo had even met Bendy, and the pirate decided to tell him.

“Do you regret it?” Harrison asked as he looked at the mark.

“Nope, never have, never will. Bendy and I are friends till the end.”

“I see... wait, how the heck did you two become father and son then?”

“Oh, see, now that’s a really funny story! So, when I was fifteen...”

It had been a slip from Bendy, by the way, he has accidentally called Hugo ‘dad’ and then it sorta just stuck around. Hugo has embraced the role of dad with his whole being, especially since he can get away with dad jokes now.

But yeah, here’s how these two met in this au!

Harrison is my friend inkspottie’s Henry, by the way.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #batim bendy #henry stein #hugo #space pirate au #john's drabbles

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

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[CN] Journeying Together Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 同行之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

[ Release Date in CN: 19 Nov 2020 ]

MC: It’s White Dew today. The weather is clear and bright, and the sky is cloudless. My first demon-slaying mission... a failure.

[Trivia] White Dew (白露 - “bai lu”) refers to the 15th solar term spanning from 8 - 22 September

As the orange light of sunset filters in through the window panes, I bite my writing brush, a little defeated as I write this sentence in my manuscript.

The pitch-black book bears the symbol of the Royal Occultist's Guild. The page that I’ve flipped to has a large portion of white.

According to the rules, every Occultist has to record his or her experiences in the manuscript after every mission, for the ease of the Guild’s management.

It was the first time I received an official demon-slaying mission.

The Occultist who sent me on the mission had made a solemn vow that on Gavin’s account, he’d give me a very elementary mission.

In the end...

Thinking about yesterday’s utter chaos, I can’t help but heave a long sigh.

MC: He clearly gave me an extremely difficult mission, yet he said he did it on Gavin’s account... Looks like Gavin’s account is even thinner than the pancakes sold outside the gates of Three Dreams Quarter!

While muttering complaints to myself, a clear, spirited voice drifts from outside the window.

Gavin: Who did you say has an account thinner than the pancakes sold outside the gates of Three Dreams Quarter?

[Note] This is meant to sound funnier in Chinese! I translated “account” from 面子 (“mian zi”), which directly means “face”. So it’s supposed to sound like “Who did you say has a face thinner than the pancakes...”

MC: !

My heart thumps, and I turn my head guiltily.

MC: Gav... Gavin, what are you doing here?

Gavin holds his sword, leaning against the hexagonal window, a few fallen catkins on his inky cotton robe.

He lifts his eyes to look at me, answering my question concisely and comprehensively.

Gavin: Just passing by.

His gaze falls onto the Occultist’s manuscript I tossed onto the table, the light in his pupils stirring.

Gavin: I heard that your first demon-slaying experience didn't go very smoothly?

MC: How did you know?

Gavin: I heard it from others. A new Occultist chased a demon across three streets, and ended up getting lost.

MC: ...

I cover my face using the manuscript, voice despondent.

MC: Truly, good deeds never go beyond the gate, but bad news travels far and wide.

Suddenly, the manuscript is removed from my face. The autumn light and the person who is basking in it both enter my vision.

Gavin flips through the manuscript, his eyes sweeping across the white page, his voice bringing with it a faint smile.

Gavin: What happened exactly?

Returning to my senses, I start speaking, a little vexed.

MC: Yesterday, I accepted the mission and headed to catch the demon at the city moat. But he trapped me in an alley. By the time I went around the alley, the demon I was supposed to capture was already gone.

I relate the incident to him, laying on the table listlessly and in low spirits. Turns out being an Occultist wasn’t as easy as I thought.

The room is quiet for a moment, and Gavin sets down the manuscript.

Gavin: Want to be my partner?

MC: What?

I sit up abruptly, looking at the person in front of me with slight incredulity.

The Royal Occultist's Guild has a rule that a senior Occultist can select his own partner.

MC: What you’re saying is...

His eyes sweep across my face.

Gavin: Anyway, I don’t have a partner yet.

After saying this, his eyes pause on the corridor outside the window. My heart thumps, something important occurring to me.

MC: I’m someone you recommended into the Guild. If my results aren’t good, will it cause trouble to you?

Is that why he felt there was a need to lead me by the hand?

Gavin: No. I just find that you’re the most suitable.

Although I have no idea what he means by “suitable”, I nod. Having someone to cover me is always a good thing.

MC: Sure.

Gavin nods slightly. Just as he’s about to say something, a red firework soars into the sky, especially conspicuous in the air.

It’s the Royal Occultist's Guild special firework, which signals that something which has appeared in the vicinity isn’t a demon, but something else...

Gavin: I’ll leave now.

He turns to leave, but I pull on his sleeve deftly.

Gavin looks back in surprise.

Gavin: What is it?

Bringing along the demonseeker in a habitual manner, I quickly hop out of the window.

MC: Since we’re already partners, of course I’m coming along with you. Don’t worry, I’ll not hold Senior Occultist Gavin back!

Gavin’s eyebrows twitch, and a faint smile flashes across his eyes.

Gavin: In that case, follow me closely.

Gavin and I move quickly, and we discover that the location where the firework appeared happens to be near the city moat.

The city moat is incomparably quiet. A light mist floats above the lake’s surface, and it appears as though everything is normal.

Gavin tightens the demonbinder ribbon entwining the sword. With his other hand, he protects me behind him.

Gavin: The demonseeker isn’t moving, so we can’t be certain of where the demon is. Follow behind me and be careful.

I nod nervously, gripping the demonseeker tightly in my hand.

Gavin walks in front of me, his inky cotton robe exuding a sense of indifference.

The days of climbing over walls and shielding each other in the Heavenbright Academy seem to have happened just yesterday. I can’t help but feel slightly muddled.

Suddenly, the cold tip of a blade flashes, and the swift and fierce sword bursts from Gavin’s hand, volleying towards the surface of the city moat.

Gavin: It has appeared!

Water splashes all about. Something powerful suddenly rises from the water, rushing towards us.

But when we see the object in the air, Gavin and I are left dumbfounded.

MC: Why is it... a pufferfish?

A gigantic pupperfish monster rushes towards us. It’s movements are very fierce, splashing water everywhere.

Gavin didn’t expect that his opponent would be a pufferfish. The unsheathed sword makes a stiff turn in the air before returning to its scabbard.

At the same time, Gavin calls me.

Gavin: MC!

Suddenly realising it, I step aside, glancing at the fishing net at the stall next to me.

I immediately hurl up the fishing net, tossing it towards the pufferfish monster.

The pufferfish monster seems to have a limited ability to think, and doesn’t know how to turn around halfway. Its head gets trapped in the fishing net, and it plummets to the ground.

I tug at the mouth of the fishing net. In the midst of the pufferfish monster’s frenzied ramming, I can sense the difficulty in slaying it.

Fortunately, Gavin comes over very quickly. Using his scabbard, the gigantic pufferfish monster is completely inhibited from moving.

He looks at me, a vague smile in his eyes.

Gavin: You weren’t bad just now.

I’m really proud of myself.

MC: Of course. I’m your designated partner.

The pufferfish monster tries its best to struggle underneath the scabbard. It releases squelching sounds, grabbing my attention.

MC: But what is this thing?

Gavin: Some creatures are the same as humans, and they possess special abilities. This pufferfish monster probably does too. It’s only a coincidence that it followed the flow of the city moat and appeared here.

While speaking, he shifts the scabbard away slightly, beckoning me to take a look.

MC: What should we do now?

I poke the rotund belly of the pufferfish monster. Getting angry out of embarrassment, it spits a huge glob of saliva at me.

Not prepared for this unexpected occurrence, the water splashes onto my face, and I even choke on it.

MC: Cough cough...

While finding this slightly amusing, Gavin helps to pat my back.

Gavin: Even though these creatures can’t speak like humans do, they have human-like characteristics. They strike back when angry, and are completely defenceless when they trust you.

He leans down, shifting the scabbard away.

Seeing that Gavin is leaning down, the pufferfish monster in front of him suddenly changes its expression. It retracts the spikes covering its body, and displays its rotund belly.

Speechless, I watch how agreeable it looks, placing a hand to my forehead.

He reaches out to hold one end of the pufferfish. Lifting it up gently, the pufferfish monster plunges into the city moat.

After entering the water, the pufferfish monster flops around excitedly several times before following the direction of the river and swimming towards the city.

MC: You’re letting it go just like that?

Gavin: It isn’t a creature managed by the Occultist’s Guild, so there’s no need to handle it in a special manner.

He says this simply, turning around and walking onto another path.

I follow behind him.

MC: Where are we going next?

Gavin: The Occultist’s Guild.

The sky seems to have become much darker. Gavin takes me to the Occultist’s Guild. Climbing a wall at the back, we arrive at a room which stores dossiers on hidden abilities.

I try to control my curiosity but to no avail. With a turn of my head, I ask Gavin a question.

MC: Why do we have to climb over a wall to come here?

Gavin: It’s very troublesome to walk in through the main door.

I recall how Zeth and the others looked when they saw Gavin, and realisation dawns on me slightly.

Gavin uses his scabbard to poke the window in front of him, smoothly entering the room. Then, he pats the dust off his hands before lifting his eyes to look at me.

Gavin: Come in.

Dumbstruck, I watch his incomparably practised, smooth movements.

MC: ...have you always been taking such unorthodox paths?

Gavin: Not often.

Gavin: Just that I’m used to it.

He coughs lightly, eyes turning to the room.

I have no choice but to leap into it too.

Several bookshelves filled with dossiers are in the room. Candlelight flickers, illuminating several sealed memories.

MC: Is this where the Occultist’s Guild stores documents on hidden abilities? I never had the chance to come here before.

Even though the pufferfish monster was harmless, it’s still a creature we’ve never seen before, and needs to be recorded into a dossier specially provided by the Occultist’s Guild for unheard-of and strange matters.

Gavin retrieves a particular dossier from a bookshelf at the side, tossing it to me.

MC: Do these dossiers record the demons encountered by Occultists?

Gavin: Mm. All the demons that have appeared over the past three years are here.

He leans against the window lattice. Bending his leg, he lowers his eyes and writes something on the book in his hands.

Occasionally, fallen catkins will drift in, falling on his robe.

After being dazzled for a moment, I return to my senses and flip open the dossier in my hand.

The dossier is very long, and seems to be filled more than halfway through. The handwriting is diverse, and very few mention Gavin.

It’s probably because Gavin doesn’t have the patience to specially return to make a record. As such, anything related to him is mostly found in what other people have recorded.

His name appears at the most fortuitous moments, or when he saves a certain Occultist, or when he can’t be found when rewards are being dispensed.

From these few, isolated words and phrases, I gradually put together a Gavin I’ve never seen before.

During upheavals caused by demons, the Senior Occultists always band together to slay them. Only then can they ensure their own safety.

The well-known Occultists have their own partners, but only Gavin has always been on his own.

Suddenly, the light from the lantern near me suddenly flickers before extinguishing completely. In an instant, the entire room descends into darkness.

MC: The candle has burned out.

I stand up, wanting to find a candle. Because it’s too dark, I walk to the edge of the bookshelf.

Reaching out and feeling around, I touch a protruding object. With a slight sound, the bookshelf suddenly moves--

My heart instantly sinks, and I recall what Zeth once said: Don’t walk around and don’t touch anything. There are many hidden mechanisms in the Association.

MC: Oh no...

I had accidentally bumped against a defence mechanism in the storeroom. The bookshelf continuously shifts towards me, forcing me into a corner.

In the midst of the threatening and forceful pressure, the sound of wind suddenly resounds.

Turning my head, I see Gavin in front of me.

He does something, and the bookshelf stops moving.

But the space is incredible narrow, and the both of us seem to be pressed together tightly.

MC: What should we do now? I didn’t know it was a mechanism in the storeroom. I just wanted to find a candle...

I couldn’t find a candle. Instead, Gavin and I have gotten trapped in a corner of the storeroom.

Gavin: There’s no need to worry. There’s a time limit to the mechanisms in the storeroom. After a while, it’d automatically return to its original position.

MC: In that case, how long is “a while”?

Gavin’s voice carries with it a hint of hesitation.

Gavin: I'm not sure either.

MC: ...

Wanting to lift my head to look at the surroundings, I accidentally bump into Gavin’s chin.

My neck stiffens immediately as I dodge out of the way. Because my centre of balance is unsteady, I end up hugging Gavin’s waist with one arm.

There’s complete silence. I can only hear the sound of Gavin’s breathing.

MC: Would you believe me if I said I didn’t do that on purpose...

Gavin: I believe you.

Gavin responds very quickly, then lapses into silence. He exerts slight strength on his wrists, pushing behind him.

His breath seems to move slightly further away, but his arm continues to cage the sides of my waist, shielding me from the edges of the bookshelf.

In the narrow space, I can’t see the expression on Gavin’s face, but can feel his heart beating.

It’s rapid and powerful.

In order to dispel the awkwardness, I break the silence.

MC: Gavin, when you were slaying demons in the past, did you encounter anything which left a deep impression? Like the pufferfish monster we met today - I’ll definitely never forget it. If I include it in the manuscript, I’ll probably be able to pen several pages. Similar incidents have been recorded in bits and pieces in these dossiers, but they don't involve you. Could it be that you have nothing worth remembering?

Gavin hesitates for a while.

Gavin: I don't have much of an impression of things that happened when slaying demons. But there’s one thing that I’ve remembered for a very long time.

MC: What is it?

Gavin: I once met a demon who was very difficult to get rid of. I spent an entire day and night to annihilate it, but sustained injuries myself.

At this point, Gavin pauses. The moonlight outside the window is as cool as limpid autumn waters, casting the room with a peaceful silence.

I can more or less guess the words he has yet to say.

MC: And then? Didn’t reinforcements come and rescue you?

Gavin shakes his head.

Gavin: When I regained consciousness, I found myself underneath a tree, and that a night had gone by. At that moment, I suddenly felt that having a partner isn’t actually a bad thing.

Even though he recounted the incident calmly, I can sense the path of hardships Gavin had gone through.

MC: As expected, the role of a Senior Occultist isn’t one that can be obtained by anyone... I’m starting to worry about whether I’m qualified to be your partner.

Gavin: When we encountered the pufferfish monster, didn’t you help me catch it?

He pauses, faint anticipation in his voice.

Gavin: Maybe the next time I faint underneath a tree, you can be of help.

I immediately shake my head.

MC: It’s best not to have such an opportunity. Getting hurt isn’t something worth looking forward to. Also, I don’t have much strength. If you faint, I won’t be able to drag you. I’d probably stay by your side and not allow anyone to pick you up and leave.

Gavin laughs in spite of himself, low vibrations rumbling from his chest.

Gavin: That’s enough.

At this moment, a sudden soft sound is heard. The bookshelf pressing us starts to shift backwards slowly.

Gavin: The mechanism seems to have reset. I'll send you back.

Gavin walks beside me, the lanterns along the streets a brilliant, fiery red.

Gavin: Today’s tasks have been more or less completed. Have a good sleep after heading back. As for matters pertaining to the Guild, I'll handle them.

I nod. Something occurs to me, and I lift my head to look at him.

MC: Even if I can’t be an Occultist in the future, I’ll always be your partner.

MC: Whether it’s facing interesting things like the pufferfish monster from today, or those dangerous circumstances you mentioned.

MC: As your partner, I’ll experience them with you.

MC: We’ve made an agreement, and there’s plenty of time in the future.

I offer my hand to Gavin, my eyes filled with a smile.

We have walked to the end of this long street. With a turn, Three Dreams Quarter is in the distance.

Gavin halts in his steps. That pair of eyes, which are always incomparably calm, seem to be ignited by a spark in this instant, filled with a resplendent light.

He reaches out, hooking our pinky fingers together like a promise.

The night breeze sends over the restlessness of human affairs and distracting thoughts, and also sends over Gavin’s calm and certain voice.

Gavin: I promise.

Gavin: There’s plenty of time in the future.

[ Fun Fact ] The name of this date, “同行”, has two pronunciations and two meanings:

(1) “tong xing”, which means “journeying together”

(2) “tong hang”, which means “same occupation”

It’s really witty on the writer’s part because both apply :>

“Same Occupation Date” sounds a little... unromantic, so I stuck with the first meaning for the title HAHA

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #I wasn't planning to translate this but the second I saw Gavin's sprite I CAVED

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crimsonfluidessence · 3 years ago

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Prompt 21: Feckless

Content Warning: Torture, Intense Psychological Warfare, Body Harm, Physical and Emotional Abuse It was just supposed to be getting his money back. That was all he wanted out of the woman. But oh, how quickly it had turned to seeing some of the purest forms of red Esredes was capable of seeing. Being pickpocketed in Ul'dah was to be expected to happen eventually- inconvenient that it occurred while he was trying to get supplies for his family, but just a detour to follow the woman into a more secluded space and request his money back. No big deal. He had his ability to cloak himself with an illusion, and so she didn't see him following her down past that door behind the Miner's guild and into an alley. He watched her begin to count his money with a smile on her face and a whisper of "Oh, yes." Just a common pickpocket. No need to escalate anything. "All right, little lady." He began, the illusion still disguising him, causing the woman to freeze and look around trying to locate his voice. Just to make it worse, he began pacing all around to make it more confusing as he spoke next. "Cute. Real cute little move you pulled back there, but I have places to be and so do you, no? Just give it back without trying anything and I'll leave. I'd rather not have anything unpleasant happen today now." "Who are you and what little move?" The woman hissed and tightened her hold on his gil pouch. "Don't play dumb with me, ma'am. Give me my gil back, please. Just toss it out in front of you." "This? Mine from the start," she retorted as she closed it up and put it away, then dashed past him and tried to run away. Esredes raised his hand up and fired a pink beam at the retreating woman's head without a second thought. The woman cursed sharply and she doubled back as her balance faltered, sliding a dagger out of her pocket to slash at the air. "What the hell are you?" With ease, Esredes moved behind her and rammed his sword handle into her upper back. She grunted and stumbled forward, then fell to the ground, the dagger clattering on the stone a good two feet away. She didn't get much time to struggle to get up before he knelt down and pinned her body under his legs, his sword arm securing her at the back as well. "For fuck's sake, Priya." The woman muttered under her breath as she found herself trapped. "Someone who wanted to mind his own fucking business and ask you nicely not to waste our time." Esredes finally answered her question as he retrieved the gil pouch from her pocket. The woman tried to fight back under his weight, but she was getting nowhere. She lashed a hand out to bat him away from her pocket, but Esredes lengthened his hand to form claws and slashed at it, and she tucked it back inside herself as he pushed down more with his sword. "You know, is it not a rule of thievery to fold it when you've bitten off more than you could chew? You'd do best to learn it." "As if you'd know," she spat out. "Leave me alone; it isn't like you'd need any of it!" "I was completely content to leave you alone before you pickpocketed me, thank you very much. And you don't know anything about me, little lady, so fuck off with that. You're not giving me any incentive to not report you right about now- what did you call yourself? Priya? Pretty name for a vicious little rat," Esredes remarked. "If you've eyes, this city doesn' do handouts." Esredes paused, her reply passing him over. Priya... why did the woman's name sound faintly familiar? Enough to bug him even through his tendency to forget names? It had to mean something, be from somewhere, but he didn't know a lot of people from Ul'dah... But someone he had interacted with a lot recently did, and... Esredes' eyes widened. Yes, it had been Elouan who mentioned that name to him during their most recent therapy session. The name of an ex of his who had beaten him for not making her enough money. Just a common pickpocket. Now she was also the woman who hurt his sunflower. "...Say, you must do this a lot, hm? Trying to get your way into money by any scummy means possible? Do you remember Elouan?" Priya froze at Elouan's name, but soon shifted into a smile that did not ease Esredes in the slightest. "Elouan? Dumber than a rock? What, isn't he dead?" "My gods," Esredes said. So it was true. This was the same woman and not a coincidence. The black heart in his chest pulsed hard, and dark, inky matter quickly spread through his insides. He moved his sword hand up and hit her on the side of the head with its handle. "I thought you were a simple thief, but no, you truly are a disgusting little parasite under there, aren't you? Shut the fuck up about handouts, I know what this city is, but you don't deserve them even if they existed. I show no sympathy towards an exploitative and manipulative abusive little monster like you. Oh, today is not going to be your day, little monster lady." He never did change his other hand back down- in its full display of rough and leathery skin she couldn't see, he wrapped it around her throat and pressed lightly. "Have you any idea how much you have to answer for?" Priya let out a soft noise and struggled much more aggressively now, clawing at the leathery hand with her own. "Hh--Answer? I'm answering to nothing. Call me what you want, I don't care. If you're calling me a monster, what're you?" With no eyes to find, she couldn't make eye contact, but she still shot quite the devilish look. "So he isn't dead, is he? Such a shame; I thought the 'yotes outside of Ul'Dah got him! It wasn't like he was worth much with the bets..." The inky matter only kept spreading. "He's worth far more than your pathetic, greedy little ass will ever be. But you wouldn't know anything about the worth of people because all they are to you is an ends for money, hmm?" He drew a line of blood across her throat. "I should fucking kill you. No one would be around to even notice your corpse or look for you, would they, hmm?" The woman laughed, even despite the pain. "You should? What's stopping--? No, who's stopping you? Elouan? That dumbass? Have you ever seen him come back from a loss down there? Do you know what it's like to not have any gil? Anything?" She spat at him and continued trying to fight, but his grip remained iron. "Shut the fuck up." Esredes ran his blade lightly across her forehead. She moved her hands to the ground and tried propelling herself up, but she couldn't even upset his balance. "To answer your question? Yes, I do. That's no fucking excuse to beat a man up who is willing to mutilate himself and risk his life for a woman who doesn't even consider him above maggots. He loved you because he didn't know better, didn't want to accept the evils of people, and you felt nothing." Her body tensed up and her eyes became even more hostile. "You don't have anything, no, a heart or any redeeming qualities included. You're a street rat who deserves to writhe in filth, because no part of you deserves even a single piece of gil! And to answer your other question?" He decided now was time to flicker back into existence before her eyes, his pupils compressed to slivers and sharp teeth grinning as he leaned in close to her face. "Well, if no one will find the body, I suppose nothing at all is stopping me, hm?" "He wasn't worth it. You're all talk and you still hesitate," she snickered at him. "You're still hesitating because of him, aren't you? Because you're just as weak. He wasn't fit to live long, y'know. Probably still isn't, too." "Oh, I'm not hesitating because I'm weak," Esredes smiled and pressed back hard against her struggle attempt with his sword and body, leaning even further in. "I'm hesitating because you're not getting off that easy after all you've done." He pressed harder on her throat and dug his thumb claw into it harder. "We're only getting started here. No one has made you answer for what you've done to him, and I am so glad we could meet for the occasion, unexpected as it is. Tell me, do you think you look good in red?" There was barely the shape of a creature below him by this point, just red. He ran his claws down her face, he ran his blade down both of her arms, he slapped her, all while taunting her about what a pathetic creature she was. "Get OFF," she soon shouted. "Oh, I'm sorry, you want me off?" His eyes widened for her. "Did you listen when Elouan asked you that, hmm?! Did you stop hitting him for things that were your fucking fault?!" She bit her lip and clenched her fists, shaking. "My fault? Who was the one that lost bets? Who was the one that just had to stop because it was 'too much'? Me? No; it was him!" There was venom in her words, and a lot of it. "One hit wasn't enough for him and you know that, don't you? You have to keep drilling it into his fuckin' head. He couldn't even find his way to the aetheryte even if he was fifteen fulms from the thing!" Esredes almost couldn't believe the things coming out of this rodent's mouth. "You're fucking disgusting. And wrong, on top of that." He hit her with his sword handle again. "No, your problem is that you're an impatient, selfish little aggressive piece of shit. If you actually had an ounce of patience and kindness that wasn't faked to all hell, you'd know the man can listen and learn quite fine if you explain it to him well enough. But you're not capable of that because you're not smart enough for such things and you don't actually bother to learn a thing about how people actually work. Maybe if you had the consideration outside of yourself for it, you wouldn't be stuck here pickpocketing people like a street rat, hm? People don't bend over for vicious worthless scheming selfish lowlives like yourself. You will never get anywhere in life. You cry so fucking much about how you have nothing, but in all your years of exploiting and robbing people, you still have absolutely nothing. I don't think you have anyone to blame but yourself at that point. You will die filthy, worthless, and alone, and no one is going to miss the dirt on the side of the street. Now, how many hits will it take for you to get it into your head, hm?" He punched her once. Twice. Three times. Four times. The last punch managed to make her wheeze, and she shut her eyes. "When is ever enough for you?!" "...enough," she said at last. "Enough!" His fist was raised for another blow, but he grinned at hearing the word out of her. "Ah. She did it. She is capable of having enough." He laughed for a solid few seconds. "For the first time in your life, something is enough. How does it feel, hm?" She wrinkled her nose, and tried to muster one last kick, but couldn't even. She said nothing, reaching up to try and pull his hand off her with trembling hands. Esredes took her hand and held it up by the wrist, staring at it. "Look at it. So weak, so small, so pathetic. If you'd held on to someone like Elouan and actually loved him, he'd protect you from something like this, you know. As is, you're not strong enough to protect or help yourself alone. And you never will be. You're a cold, vulnerable little lady in a harsh world, and your only response is to make it so your own existence has no justification for itself."

He wasn't done. He wasn't anywhere near done yet. He kept on going, tearing into her with more wounds. He even took his little pair of scissors he used to cut his emergency supply of gauze and cut away at her hair. She kept helplessly trying to fight back, kept trying to scream at him to stop or go away. "I'm not going anywhere yet, little lady." He eventually said, grinning as he ran a clawed finger down her face. It was gentle enough not to draw blood, and she shivered under it. "Because I am your nightmare, I am the harbinger that comes for naughty little ladies who need to be a taught a lesson about the cruelty of their own heart." He then slapped her again, and continued cutting her hair. "You want to be a cruel and heartless beast to people who don't deserve it? Well, tell me, is it worth it? Is it worth it to sit here trapped in a reflection of your own cruelty and be content to bleed out in the darkness?" "Why should I talk about worth with you?" The venom and bite of her words had gone; she no longer had the energy for it, it seemed. It wasn’t long before she even started producing tears in her eyes. "Aww," Esredes said in a low, mocking voice. "Does the beast want to cry now? Cry like you made Elouan do countless times? It didn't mean a damn thing to you. Your tears are nothing to me." “I don’t care,” she said in a low and rough voice. "Don't care about you 'n what you say." "Then why are you crying?" "I'm not crying." Tears were treading down her cheeks. "Lady, look at your own goddamn face. You can't even hold it in. Is this too much for the poor little snake to handle, hmm? You're breaking this easily? And to think, Elouan survived multiple beatings from you, and you can't even handle this. Who's supposed to be the weak one again?" "Just shut up!" She croaked in a broken voice. "Shut up! This is pointless! Leave me alone. You've got what you wanted. You've gotten more than what you wanted already," even when she shut her eyes, the tears did not stop. "This is not enough." Venom dripped into his voice. "This is nothing to what you did to him. You can wish for it to stop all you want, but that never helped him, and it's not going to help you, either. Cry all you want, it only makes this all the sweeter. You get everything that you deserve." "He's just another pet of the sands, don't you see?“ The woman said through her shaky voice. "I thought I'd be better with more than what the trade offered. I couldn't start off without--without that." "And? And? That gives you free reign to crush his heart and body for not doing every little thing perfectly for you? When this man was willing to give you all of his love and torment himself far too much for you? You know, pickpocketing a man with a voice like mine? Fair enough, I know what city I walked into. But that? That as your excuse to be cruel in pursuit of money? No. No. Here, little lady. Answer me one little thing. Do you do all of this alone, in the true sense? Do you ever have a person to your name who isn't a tool you discard?" She finally opened her eyes again, staring at her hair on the ground. "Alone? Why'd I do it with anyone else? We're all just tools for anyone else to use--you either climb the ladder or get stuck in the lion's den. He was--he was too fuckin' much! His whining, his talking, his forgetfulness. All I wanted was gil for myself 'n business. Not the thing behind it." It wasn’t every day Esredes held true evil in his hands, trapped in his talons like a snake to an eagle. But hearing her twisted explanation only further caused his heart to rage in hatred. "Good. Fucking. Lord." He said. "People like you are the kind I despise the most. Your entire philosophy is so fucking stupid at its core, and all of you claim it's the most intelligent thing ever. I'll tell you a little story. I too have had absolutely nothing at multiple points in my life." On he went snipping her hair as he talked. "Do you know how you get away from having absolutely nothing? Yes, you have to have sharp skills of self reliance and the ability to climb out yourself, but you can only get so far on your own. You need, and I mean truly need, other people in order to truly build yourself up past a certain point. This is why types like you either never make it or end up dead eventually when someone else brings you down. You only make your own life harder by approaching people so selfishly without anything to add to it. People will see right through you, they'll tear you apart without sympathy or mercy, because you don't offer anything to last with people beyond the short term. If you don't blow everything in the short term with other people, and they aren't people like you, you get rewarded for being good to them. People are more willing to help you out of bad situations without you needing to do a thing because they remember when you were there for them, therefore becoming much more viable and sustainable than a one time deal you blow and suffer the consequences. You really think the world is going to bend to your greedy little will because you want money? No. It won't. It doesn't fucking care, and you know this. Lady, I don't know why I have to be the one telling you this with how smart you think you are, but here's a simple lesson on how people work. People talk. People complain. People forget things. People are not perfect little devices for you to drain gil out of, they are incomplete and flawed things trying their best. And people aren't very useful if you can't follow the basic law of economics and make a fair trade. You'd think growing up here, you'd understand this. Now, my point is, I was alone with nothing. And now? I have enough that you don't want to know the number of people who fear me, little lady. I didn't get this way by draining gil out of people like a vampire. I had to give something of myself, I had to sacrifice, I had to bleed for other people first, but people don't forget what you do for them, or to them. Each person you meet is a powerful weapon in their own right, a valuable resource beyond just money they make. And only a fool would discard such power. You're just a weak, stupid little thief who will never make it because you don't even understand what it takes to get out of your situation. You'll forever be in the den because you fall off the ladder every single time. There is a place to be vicious, there is a place to be kind. But you wouldn't know the difference if it held you down and punched you repeatedly in the face. I truly hope you never make it in life. The world doesn't need more people like you. Your kind can only drain the world of its resources and make it a worse place, all while declaring that the world is the evil one. Well have you ever fucking thought of being something that isn't so deserving of the world's evils? Because here you are now, bleeding out and crying, while Elouan is somewhere safe, having escaped, and is much happier because he's with people who appreciate his kindness for what it is. You have nothing for others to see. No one will ever lift you up off of here, because you'll never, ever deserve it." The woman laid there and absorbed his verbal blows, still too weak to fight back in any way. Tears still streamed down her face. "So what if I don't deserve it? I don't care. I don't care, I don't want to care, I just--" "You just what, lady? What is it? What is it you want to scream out right about now?" Priya gritted her teeth and out came a strangled cry. "--I don't want to be here. I don't want people around me or in m'life. I don't want anyone close to me! I don't want to be hurt like I've hurt them. I just want to be. Be dead? Fuckin' fine, do it already!“ "Is that seriously all you want from life? To be alone with money?" "What else? Money can't hurt me like they could." "Wow." Esredes said. "Just wow. You know, popular sayings exist for a reason. People who are alone with money are some of the people most likely to drink themselves or take drugs into dying. I grew up in Ishgard. Everyone in the noble circle has money and guess what? We're all still fucking miserable and want to die, broken empty shells of people. People still treat you like trash and shit no matter how nice you look and how perfectly polite your tone is. You still die empty and unfulfilled and ultimately meaningless. ...But you know this in some capacity, don't you?" He leaned down close to her face again, and she shut her eyes. "Is it not just because you want this to stop that you keep trying to taunt me into ending you, hmm? Are you sick enough of festering in your own shallow existence that you want to just spare the world the burden of you?" “You already know the answer, don’t you? I’ve got nothin’ to my name or kin! Why keep me around if that’s all I have, aye?” "Exactly. There's no reason at all." He smiled. "If I gave you your dagger back, would you be able to do it, hmm?" Priya kept sniffling. She opened her eyes and they landed on her dagger, past the scraps of her hair. "It'd be the one good thing you ever do in your life." He continued on. "You'd finally give back to the world, as your corpse decays and the nutrients can be absorbed to go to things more deserving of them..." “Stop talking,” she mumbled yet again. But Esredes only grinned. "Just think about it. No more waking up in pursuit of your empty desires. No more pickpocketing and feeding on scraps. Just the sweet embrace of nothing washing over you, finally an end to all the suffering. You won't be weak anymore. You won't have to feed for more, and more, and more... you will finally have enough." “I said stop.” "You'll never make it. So why keep trying? You're not smart enough to make it, you're not clever enough. You don't have what it takes. All you'll ever do is prolong your own agony, stuck in the same cycle, over and over and over... is that really a worthwhile existence?" “Stop it! Stop talking! I’ve enough of this and, gods, just stop.” The woman managed to shout, but it so quickly became shaky, weak, and small once more. "You keep telling me to stop because you know I'm right. You just don't want to admit it." He took the final strands of her hair and positioned the scissors around them. "One moment, you're here, writhing in your own filth, and the next..." Snip. She hissed. "Release. Catharsis. Nothing." He held the hair out to her to look at. "See, you have a golden opportunity. No one cares about you. No one will notice if you die. You have no burdens tying you down to this earthy plane, you can release yourself like a balloon and fly. Wouldn't that be so wonderful, to see the sky...?" “I won’t see shite,” she retorted with certainty, stretching her arm to try and reach the dagger, only for Esredes to move it further away with a rock. "Alas," he said. "If you do it later, I won't stop you- but for right now, it's not time yet.” He threw the hair to scatter about the tunnel. “All this talk for not yet? Bullshite!” "You're not deserving of a quick death, dearest. No one with a heart as cold and empty as yours is." It would still be some time before he finally let her go. Tied up and unable to escape the tunnel with that pouch of opioids on her- a perfect trapped creature for the local authorities of Ul’dah to pick up. It was not enough. He couldn’t make it enough no matter how little he held back, and he knew it. Nothing would make up for what she did to his beloved Elouan. He would never completely understand the local parasites of the world that pretended to be human like her. Why were they all so content to live a destructive life focused only on themselves? Were they so wrapped up in themselves they couldn’t notice how boring they were, how little and shallow of an existence it was? They would go on, intimidating or charming those around them to feed their selfish empire- but at their core, they were weak nothings, and Esredes saw them for what they were. “Sorry, it was very crowded at the market today. I couldn’t get everything.” Esredes said to his parents later. “I’ll get it all in the morning before I leave. It should be much easier to navigate…” ——— @shieldbcund Priya, Elouan

#writing #in action #villain aesthetic #elouan #ffxivwrite2021 #screenshots

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fancifulwhump · 5 years ago

Note

Pssst jaskier prompt if you're interested: I'm a sucker for geralt being soft and caring while refusing to acknowledge it - so a fic where there's something wrong with jaskier - maybe he fell into an icy lake, or is getting sick or something, and geralt takes care of him like a total tsundere? *angrily shoves blankets at him* *stoically checks his temperature* *gruffly makes him soup* *WE'RE NOT FRIENDS BUT ALSO I WILL SIT AT YOUR BEDSIDE NURSE YOU BACK TO HEALTH UNTIL YOUR SINGING AGAIN*

@hurt-comfort asked: Hey hey! Loving your writing. I'm @hurt-comfort. I would love ANY Jaskier whump (use any prompt on my blog). I'd love to see like, Geralt just needing to comfort Jas (because he WANTS to even though he has the social IQ of a potato.) "When the whumpee is in like a daze, just sitting and staring at nothing because of something traumatic. Then someone forces them to either eat, get changed, or just move. Like shellshock" and Geralt has to be like "Jaskier, listen, it's okay"

AN: okay, okay, there was a lot to work with here, but hopefully I hammered it into a scenario that makes sense? “Falls through thin ice” is such a great whump trope and also a real nightmarescape of mine, so… let’s all enjoy the trauma together, guys!!

It’s not as though Geralt doesn’t care. That isn’t it at all. If he cared less, Jaskier probably wouldn’t get into scrapes like this --- he’d find his own trouble, of the ‘incensed husbands and fathers’ variety, but would cross paths with far fewer monsters. If Geralt didn’t care at all, he’d have abandoned the fool in some insignificant village long ago and never thought twice on the subject.

If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have fished Jaskier out of the damn lake.

Fine. That’s... not true. He would have done it anyway. The terror he felt when he heard the ice crack --- that heart-plunging, vein-chilling terror --- he could have gladly gone without. Instead, he was almost frozen by it. From the ominous creak of the ice beneath their feet, to the sudden sharp scent of unfrozen water, to Jaskier’s half-hesitant “Geralt ---”

Before the ice gave way.

It took him too long to move. Too long to spring into action, too long to force his body to cooperate with his racing nerves. Witchers are trained to never be caught unaware, to react on instinct --- a slow witcher is a dead witcher --- but he wasn’t fast enough to catch Jaskier before he plunged through the ice.

Where he vanished, only a hole remained --- and the water underneath, black and churning, small chunks of ice bobbing like forgotten fragments amidst the inky depths. Nothing thrashed; nothing moved. Geralt plunged both arms in, ignorant of the cold. His lone thought was catching something --- an arm, a foot, the collar of a jacket, anything to prove that Jaskier was down there. Yet as he groped through the murk, he found nothing.

“Jaskier!” he bellowed, the sound echoing across the frozen lake. If the bard could hear him underwater, he gave no indication. Beneath Geralt’s knees, the ice creaked alarmingly, but Geralt fought through the natural instinct to retreat. Not without the damned bard. Dead or alive, he wouldn’t leave Jaskier beneath the surface.

He began to scramble, clearing snow from the frozen laketop to reveal the hardened ice beneath. It was like looking through a mirror into another world. Above was all he knew, all he’d ever known; below lay a foreign realm of darkness and desolation. Some battles even witchers could not fight, and a frozen lake was one of them.

Jaskier was nowhere, nowhere. Nowhere at all. Beneath the ice was a vortex of blackness, no thrashing body in sight. He must have sunk, Geralt’s furious mind realized, sunk right to the bottom, dragged down by that damned lute, and that’s the end of him ----

With a roar of fury, Geralt’s fists slammed down on the ice. “Jaskier!”

For a beat, nothing happened. And then the ice broke.

This time, Geralt’s reflexes served him well. He scrambled back, finding his feet half a second before the frozen ground he’d been kneeling on shattered. Back, and back, the ice splintered and broke, widening the crevasse of churning water. No longer was it safe to stand on; the ice would not tolerate any more weight. Geralt took a step back, gaze fixed on ice’s open mouth, gaping and hungry…

There, a movement.

There, something white and fluttering, like a bird in its death throes.

There, a fucking hand.

He moved too quickly for even the ice to catch him --- but Geralt caught Jaskier, and that was the important thing. In one swift movement, he hauled the thrashing man up, out of the water and onto solid ground. Not solid for long, though. Even at the weight of Jaskier’s body flopping onto its surface, the ice groaned and gave way some more. A hand still locked around Jaskier’s forearm, Geralt seized hold of his companion’s other. There wasn’t a second to waste, even to make sure he was alright. Heaving Jaskier’s pliant body up and over his shoulder, Geralt ran.

Ice breaks fast. Witchers run faster.

He would have tried to save Jaskier anyways, Geralt thinks as he sets the bard’s limp body down on solid ground, but it would be so much easier not to care. At the moment, he cannot stop caring. The crack of ice still rings in his head, dogging him like one of Jaskier’s songs; though he takes little notice of the water’s lingering chill, it’s obvious in the stark whiteness of Jaskier’s face. Somewhere in their mad flight, Jaskier vomited up any water he swallowed. Now, he simply shivers in his damp clothes, still gasping like a fish on land. Something in the icy air doesn’t agree with him, because he keeps coughing, and he’s trembling —

Geralt does care. That’s the difficult thing. Because caring for humans is a fragile process, a risk with limited possibility for reward. Humans are so breakable, and there are so many things that can go wrong.

Caught in a moment like this, he isn’t sure how to care for Jaskier.

“You’re fine,” is what he settles on, drawing back to survey Jaskier’s shaking form. “Damned ice.”

It wasn’t Jaskier’s fault, of course. For once, he wasn’t blindly catapulting himself into mortal peril. Even Geralt hadn’t realized the ice was so thin… which is the real bitch of it, because Geralt should have known. He’s the one with heightened senses, with the ability to smell damned ice in the air — Jaskier couldn’t have known, but he should have. He should.

“You’re alright,” he says again, awkwardly patting Jaskier’s shoulder. Even under his touch, the bard quivers… but he’s still in wet clothes, and the afternoon is frigid. Right now, they need to get him warm.

Surely that will bring the blood back to his cheeks, and chase away that expression — a wide-eyed, blank look, so utterly unlike Jaskier that it’s unnerving. His open mouth still gulps in greedy lungfuls of air, which he proceeds to choke on. Any chance of regaining his composure is clearly beyond Jaskier right now, so it’s up to Geralt to drag him back.

Literally, as it turns out. When, after a few minutes, Jaskier tries to find his feet, his knees immediately give out on him. He winds up crouched on the frozen ground, hands digging into the dirt, practically curled in on himself. His head ticks against his chest as he trembles, eyes squeezing shut. Geralt waits a moment, weighs the cost of Jaskier’s dignity against his own, and finally offers a hand.

Jaskier doesn’t take it. He doesn’t even look up.

“Damn it all,” Geralt grunts. This was exactly what he didn’t want to do — yet it seems there’s no choice. Either he leaves Jaskier to freeze in the middle of a frozen wood, or lead him along like a child. Since Jaskier isn’t in any condition to give his preference —

Tucking one strong arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, Geralt hauls the bard to his feet. For one frightful second, his legs seem ready to give out beneath him again; but Jaskier slumps into Geralt, trusting his weight, and manages to stay upright. Geralt takes one step forward. Jaskier manages to follow. Another step, and another, and soon they are walking. It’s not much — Geralt is basically Jaskier’s walking stick, used to ground him despite his violent shivering — and Jaskier still hasn’t found his voice, but it’s enough. It gets them where they need to go.

When Great grunts and nods to the horse, it’s enough of a shock to resurrect Jaskier’s voice. “You —“ he croaks, then clears his throat with a wince. “You w-want me — t-to ride —“

“Get on the horse,” is all Geralt says, turning away. Chances are, he’ll regret it. Chances are, Roach will resent him for it. But with Jaskier riding, they’ll make it to town within the hour. Given the choice between an inn’s roaring hearth or defrosting over a sickly campfire, he can guess which one Jaskier would prefer.

By some small shred of common sense, the bard doesn’t hesitate. After a few pained grunts — which Geralt does not turn around to investigate, because it’s not his damn job — Roach lets out a huff of her own, and Geralt starts walking. The steady rhythm of hooves behind him reassures that Jaskier manages to make it up.

His estimate isn’t far off, either. They make it to town within the hour, riding past rows of dreary brick-and-mortar buildings towards the heart of town. Usually, Geralt is welcomed with stony silence by suspicious village folk; today is no different. Having Jaskier as a companion does come with rare advantages; he burns so brightly and appears so guileless that people can’t glare at him the way they do at Geralt. When Jaskier rides into town at his side, they are often given far warmer reception. Jaskier charms cart-vendors, smiles at children, winks at passing ladies (and gentlemen)... he makes himself welcome wherever he goes. Geralt May be a far more imposing presence, but he finds himself swept up in Jaskier’s tide, carried with him where he goes.

At the moment, however, Jaskier is in no state to charm and cajole his way into a dreary town’s good graces. He simply hangs low on Roach’s back, head bowed, as they ride through the streets. His shoulders still quake with the occasional shiver; his breaths are a bit too heavy for Geralt’s liking, and he’s too quiet. Somehow, Geralt finds himself more preoccupied with Jaskier’s state than the hostility radiating from the wary villagers.

The local inn has a spare room for the night, a warm bed, and a bath. It’s good enough for Geralt. He slides their coin across the table, steps back outside to collect Jaskier off of Roach — he’d trembled too hard at the notion of coming inside — and makes short work of hustling him up the stairs. As soon as the door closes behind them, Geralt guides Jaskier to the bed, form hands pushing both shoulders down. Jaskier doesn’t even bother with a token protest.

“Your clothes,” Geralt says. When Jaskier stares at him blankly, he curses. “They’re still wet.” Frozen, in fact, hardened with a thin sheen of frost against the night air. Leaving them like that is guaranteed to lead to problems later on; Geralt has no desire to leave town tomorrow with a pneumatic bard trailing behind. He reaches out, giving the sleeve of Jaskier’s jacket a tug. The leather is stiff, sending a hail of ice crystals raining down onto the mattress, Jaskier doesn’t react at all.

So, that’s how it’s going to be?

If Jaskier won’t do his own damn job, Geralt will do it for him. Scowling, he manhandles Jaskier’s jacket and jerkin off. In moments, he is left in nothing but his undershirt. That’s soaked through too, but the fabric isn’t as frozen; Jaskier could easily shrug out of it on his own. Still, he makes no movement to.

“What’s the matter with you?” Geralt demands.

Jaskier says nothing at all. His gaze shifts away from Geralt, across the room towards the closed window. Something about him — be it his hunched posture, eerie silence, or the far-off look on his face — feels as though he isn’t here at all. Jaskier has wandered off without Geralt noticing, going somewhere far away. Wherever he’s gone, Geralt doesn’t know how to get him back.

After a long moment, he sighs, casting the half-frozen clothes aside. When he strides across the room, his footsteps resound against the wooden floorboards. It’s easier to fill the silence with something instead of nothing at all. Somehow, it leaves him feeling less alone. The inn’s portress has filled a metal tub with steaming water, leaving it right outside their door; Geralt makes quick work of dragging it in, grunting as he goes. By the time it’s set up, the floor is littered with puddles, and his pants are uncomfortably soaked — but the memory of Jaskier emerging, white as death, from the black depths stifles any complaint instantly.

Looking back up at the bard, he’s shocked to see Jaskier showing signs of life. He’s found his feet again, and even removed his undershirt. Now, his hands fumble at the laces of his breeches, but they’re shaking too hard to manage.

Geralt allows himself exactly half a minute to settle on absolutely not, before caving in. It’s either this or watch the bard bathe half-dressed, which would be even more pathetic. That’s what he tells himself, at least, as he roughly shoved Jaskier’s hands aside and undoes the laces himself.

“You — you don’t h-have—“ Jaskier’s murmured protest cuts off. The job’s already done. Geralt looks back up at him, unconsciously seizing one of his wrists; automatically, a hiss escapes past his clenched teeth.

“You’re still freezing!” Geralt has met ice wights with more heat in their bones. No wonder he’s trembling so badly — shock mixed with potential hypothermia is a dangerous combination. Either one on its own can be debilitating, but both of them bad enough could be lethal.

“Bath. Now,” he orders brusquely, giving the bard a shove towards the steaming tub. Still dazed, as though caught in a waking dream, Jaskier stumbles into it. He doesn’t even whimper as the hot water envelops his freezing limbs, though it has to hurt. His thousand-mile stare shifts away from Geralt and down to the water. After a moment, Jaskier goes utterly still.

“You need to soak. That won’t stay warm all night.” When Jaskier gives no indication that he’s even heard, Geralt grunts in frustration and kneels at the side of the tub. “Hey!” He gives Jaskier’s shoulder a jolt, and he jerks to attention abruptly. The blatant fear in his eyes takes Geralt aback. He expected exhaustion, even irritation, but not — whatever this is.

“The water closed over my head,” Jaskier exhales, and evening his voice sounds a thousand leagues away. “It happened so fast… like I was swallowed. And I couldn’t — I couldn’t breathe, Geralt, I couldn’t — couldn��t swim. It was so cold —“

“Jaskier.” His hand is still gripping a bony shoulder; now, Geralt’s hold tightens, pulling his companion towards him. When Jaskier tries to pull back, he won’t let him. “Look at me. Hey.” Jaskier is still trembling, but Geralt grounds him with the contact, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You,” he says slowly, “are safe. This water is warm. It’s not going to hurt you. Nothing’s going to hurt you as long as I’m here.”

“It almost—“ Jaskier starts, then cuts off. Geralt understands anyway. It feels like a blade to the gut.

“I know,” he says after a long moment. “I’m… sorry.”

“Sorry?” Jaskier blinks at him, as though slowly awakening from a deep sleep. “Geralt… you saved me.”

But he wasn’t fast enough. “Still.”

Slowly, Jaskier shakes his head. His legs relax in the water, fully submerging, and he sinks up to his chest. Finally, finally, he’s no longer trembling. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s not what Geralt deserves, but this day has given Jaskier nothing he deserves either — not a near-death in a frozen lake, not the clumsy care of a brute who has no idea what he’s doing. This bath is the first nice thing to happen to him all day… and suddenly, Geralt is determined that Jaskier shall enjoy it.

Reaching in, he cups a palm full of water, and releases it over one pale, bare shoulder. Unwillingly, Jaskier lets out a gasp. Steam rises and quickly evaporated off of the chilled skin, but the mere touch of water is enough to make Jaskier want more. He quickly sinks down, submerging himself up to his chin. Geralt watches carefully, intently, just in case.

He will not be too slow to save Jaskier this time.

After a long moment, the bard shifts in the water and says, in a small voice, “Thank you.”

Geralt has no idea what he’s being thanked for; he simply huffs and turns his head, looking away.

#the witcher #jaskier #whump #Anonymous

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years ago

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S.T. REWRITE - S2:E8; Chapter Eight, The Mind Flayer - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

An unlikely hero steps forward when a deadly development puts the Hawkins Lab on lockdown, trapping Will and several others inside.

||3rd Person POV||

The once pristine and orderly lab had become a desolate wasteland in a matter of minutes. Blood painted the walls and bodies were scattered among the labyrinth of halls. Buckled down in the heart of Hawkins Lab, Owens scatters a map, pen in hand. The others quickly close in around him as he draws out their escape plan.

"Look, this is us," he circles a corner on the map. "and this is the nearest exit. But even if we somehow make it there, there's no way out."

Hopper's brow furrows, his grip on the flashlight grows subconsciously tighter. "What do you mean?"

"The locks are fail-secure."

"Fail secure?" Joyce asks.

"If there's a power outage," Owens says, looking around at the confused faces. "the building goes on lockdown."

"Can it be unlocked remotely?" Bob asks.

"With a computer, sure, but somebody's gotta reset the breakers."

Hopper inches closer, growing ever restless. "Where are the breakers?"

"Breakers are in the basement," Owens returns to the map. "three floors down."

Not wasting another moment, Hopper spins on his heel and stomps for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Bob calls after him.

Hopper gives him an incredulous look. "To reset the breakers."

Bob scoffs worriedly. "Okay, then what?"

"Then we get out of here."

"No, then the power comes back on. If you wanna unlock the doors you have to reboot the computer system, and then override the security codes with a manual input."

"Fine," Hopper sighs. "How do I do that?"

It's Bob's turn to look incredulous. "You can't. Not unless you know BASIC."

"I don't know what that means," Hopper asks shortly, growing increasingly stressed.

"It's a computer programming language," Mike replies, jumping in.

"Teach it to me,"

Bob scoffed shortly, dawning an uncharacteristic mocking tone. "Shall I teach you French, while I'm at it, Jim? How about a little German?"

Everyone listens, taken aback at his unusual behavior and the man turns to Owens.

"How about you, doc?" He asks, growing urgent. "You speak BASIC?"

Sheepishly, he shakes his head, suddenly finding the floor particularly interesting. "No."

Dreading the answer, Bob reluctantly accepts and scoffs nervously, nodding his head.

"Okay, I got this," he mutters nervously, turning to Hopper repeating the words more assured. "I've got this."

"No," Joyce's voice cracks, and she envelops Bob in a worried hug. "Bob."

"It's okay," Bob gratefully accepts the tender hug before looking into her eyes. "It's gonna be okay. Remember, Bob Newby, superhero."

||Reader's POV||

We carry on over another small hill through the trees and the pads of my feet, ironically enough, feel as if they are on fire. I keep glancing at my shoes for any sign of distress even though I know it's because I've been walking all day. And truthfully, I'm unsure how much more walking I can take.

I let out my umpteenth sigh, keeping my eyes trained on where Steve is stepping to avoid tripping on any more roots. Another side effect of walking all day, my reflexes have dulled considerably.

"How much longer?" I ask.

Steve huffs, using the bat to swipe away some low hanging branches in our path. "Jesus, if one more of you shits ask me that again,"

"Sorry, you're majesty!" I groan sarcastically, throwing my head back briefly in frustration no doubt earning a few surprised glances.

I'm able to see the clouds of branches above us sway in the wind, parting ever so to reveal the inky night sky and I calm significantly. My anger dissolves a bit, enough to feel a small pang of guilt for snapping at Steve. Especially since he was helping Dustin, and all of us, actually.

I look back down at the forest floor, a tad embarrassed.

"Sorry, really," I mumble, and I catch Steve's hardened glare soften a bit over his shoulder. "It's just,"

I pause, glancing back at the night sky once more, and I feel another soft gust of wind snake through the trees and hit my face and I feel soothed. The stars always had a way of calming me. It awes me, something about the vastness of it all, and just how complex and simple it all was, all at once.

Reassured, I continue. "My feet are killing, and the junkyard took a lot out of me. You've been super helpful, so it's not fair to you to-"

"Shut up," He hisses, suddenly.

"What?"

"I said, shut up," he repeats, voice lowered and eyes focused ahead.

I look to the others, Max merely shrugs with an odd look, Lucas readies the wrist rocket and Dustin seems to be the only one the honed in on the situation.

I fall silent, my ears straining and I'm able to make out a familiar voice over the rustling of the trees as Steve pulls away at more branches.

"Who's there?" It calls. "Who's there?!"

Steve is the first to break through the woods and we all pool out at his side. One of the first things I notice is a security booth and a familiar car parked beside. It takes me a moment to identify the two figures across the clearing, but the moment it registers, they speak, confirming my suspicions.

"Steve?" They ask in perfect unison.

"Nancy?" Steve asks.

Nancy and Jonathan stand across the small stretch of grass, and I can't help a confused smile.

"Jonathan?" I break out into a brisk walk, ignoring my aching feet and the duo makes their way towards us. "Nancy!"

"Y/n?"

"It's so good to see you!" I give Jonathan a quick side hug, relieved to see the familiar face of a Byers. "What are you guys doing here?"

I pull back, smiling at them both but it quickly deflates when I think of Will. I look to Jonathan worriedly.

"How's Will?"

I can hear the others making their way towards us, but I'm more focused on the unusual behavior. He begins shifting on his feet, his previous look of confusion towards me and my unfamiliar garb melted away into that of concern.

"We're looking for him, and Mike." He gestures to Nancy and glances at Dustin and Lucas. "Wait, they aren't with you guys?"

None of us have time to answer before a string of hideous screeching echoes out from the lab.

An all too familiar pit burrows in my stomach, I can feel it taking root at the new information. Will couldn't go missing again, he just couldn't. But if the Upside Down was involved, which I know for a fact it is, then it can't be good.

||3rd Person POV||

A golden yellow beam of light bounces down the stairwell in tune with Bob's ragged breathing and the squeak of his shoes against the polished stairs. His heart is racing wildly, and never once did he imagine he would ever find himself racing through Hawkins Lab, gun in hand, to escape an infestation of interdimensional monsters. Heck, he couldn't he even picture himself with a gun! Good thing Jim was able to give him at least somewhat of breakdown on how to use one, and for now that would have to do.

But he reminds himself of the danger, the danger Joyce and the others as well as himself. He reaches the basement and almost instantly he is enveloped in a blanket of steam from the heaters, and the poor lighting gives off the illusion he has been swallowed by a thick layer of smog. It does nothing to ease the sweat percolating on his skin no more than the distant beeps of the alarm echo in his mind serving as a harsh reminder.

He stalks carefully through the mist, checking his corners to the best of his ability for his first time and he can feel every nerve stand on edge. It's only proven by the shaky beam of light streaming through his flashlight.

A harsh and sudden hiss goes off above his head and he nearly jumps out of his skin. The gun and light come to aim shakily at the source of the noise and he feels the wave of relief crash over him as he sees it's merely a pipe, clouds of steam pooling from a small valve.

He takes a long deep breath, his aim returning to his path.

"Keep it together, Bob." He mumbles.

It's not much longer before he finds himself at the breaker room, and he is relieved when he hears the click of the door as it swings open unlocked. But it vanishes almost as soon and he jumps when his flashlight finds the bloodied remains of two bodies on the floor.

Bob does his best to collect his gasps, but he finds it a difficult ordeal. His grip on his flashlight, and his gun, tighten and he is sure to shut the door behind him before stepping further into the room. It's quiet and unnaturally still apart from the blood pumping in his ears, it only grows worse as he navigates around the fallen men. Finally, he turns the corner finding at long last what he had risked his life for. The breakers.

Labeled on a plastic tag, the words, MAIN POWER caught his eye and he knew for sure he was in the right place.

"Okay, here we go,"

Taking a deep breath, he flips the first switch and he is suddenly bathed in light. It's not long before it spreads throughout the entire lab. With every lever he pulls, the lab steadily comes to life, including the surveillance room.

The others perk up when the florescence flicker on above their heads. Mike is the first to step up to the monitors as each screen comes to life. At its center, the breakers in the basement where Bob Newby stands.

||Reader's POV||

"What do you mean? Haven't you-?"

"I haven't seen him, or Mike since Friday!" I plea.

Everything was a mess, everyone had begun talking over each other in a big huddle and no one could get a clear word in edgewise. That is until Nancy broke free from the circle.

"The power's back!"

My eyes fall past the gate and treeline to see that she's right, the building had lit up completely.

I quickly fall in line with the others and it's as if a small race broke out for who could get to the security booth first. Jonathan did, and he wasted no time hitting the button. I could hear the rapid clicking from where I stood at the front of the car, and I quickly looked to the gate expectantly.

Nothing happens.

The clicking continues and we all watched confused and increasingly worried as it remains perfectly still.

Another screech echoes in the distance and I can feel my anxiety blossom from the pit in my stomach. I begin subconsciously bouncing on the balls of my heels and I look around at the others for any ideas.

"Guys...?"

I meet eyes with Dustin and he looks as if he's grown ever more impatient, and my anxious state is his final sign. He kicks into gear, heading for the booth.

"Let me try--"

"Hang on--" Jonathan tries.

He's cut off by Dustin who weakly shoves him back with a frustrated whine. "Let me try, Jonathan!"

I watch deflated as my brother does nothing but wear out the button, and I roll my eyes with a deep breath. I feel a pair of eyes on me, and I look to find Max glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, concerned. She looks away when she knows she's been caught. I look down at my hands and realize not only am I rocking back and forth on my heels but I'm also desperately wringing my hands.

I note the silence in the air, I look back at Dustin who watches the gate expectantly, an exasperated Jonathan standing behind him. The silence lasts not a moment longer before Dustin begins shouting.

"Well, son of a bitch! You know what..." he grumbles, returning to the button with even more fervor.

I try to calm myself the best of my ability, taking slow deep breaths but it only helps so much. My eyes return to the sight of the lab, and I can't help but fear what lies ahead.

+++

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nightglider124 · 4 years ago

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RobStar Week 2020: Day 2

Oof, I don’t actually like this one. Which... it’s a shame cos I was excited to write this and it’s an idea I wanted to do for ages but decided to use it for this years robstarweek.

This is an... alternate cave scene from the episode ‘Stranded’.

Idk... I botched it lmao. I am... my writing skills have honestly gone down the pan, ngl.

BLEH WHATEVER. Enough of the negativity.

Hope you guys at least take some joy from this one. Hopefully I will do better than I have with the first two prompts for this week.

___________________

Warmth

Robin sucked in a deep breath as he reached up and snapped off a wayward branch that seemed to have snuck through the cracks of the cave they had taken shelter in. It had been a bit of a challenge to find wood of all things on this strange planet at first but after some time, the two of them had managed to get a small fire going.

His heart was still pounding from what had happened. The last thing he expected was for the ground to shake and give out beneath their feet as they attempted to find the others. Robin was more than ready to find the missing members of his team, head home and put as much distance between them and this death trap of a planet as he could.

Pausing before he walked back over to the small fire, he chanced a glance over his shoulder at Starfire. Ever since they had plummeted into an inky abyss, she had been mysteriously and uncharacteristically quiet.

She was sitting on a log that was on one side of the flames, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, as if shielding herself from harm. It was a first to see Starfire practically retreating in on herself and barely speaking to him.

He could feel the anxious knot in his chest, tighten suddenly as he dwelled on their situation and the conversation they had been having just before the cliffs collapsed.

The whole mission had been a complete train wreck. He wished, more than anything, he could go back to that space station they’d arrived at, defeated the screaming monster with her and then ushered Cyborg out before he could tease anything at all.

Robin furrowed his brows beneath his mask as he remembered the memory from earlier that day. He was so stupid for reacting like that. In reality, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend who was a girl but… romantically? He didn’t think they had breached that recently or at least, it wasn’t made clear to him if they had moved forward like that.

It was true that there was some underlying connection; something that drew them to one another but they’d never taken the time to discuss it or broach the subject before. With him being practically allergic to any conversation pertaining emotions, he had always shut them down or avoided those types of conversations with her before they even had a chance of starting.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her because he did. He’d thought about it and imagined what it would be like, many times since he had first met her. Robin wondered all sorts of things in regards to if they were to take their relationship further, into unknown territory.

But, in truth, it scared him. He didn’t know what he would have to expect and didn’t know if they would last, despite hoping they would.

There was this weight hanging on his heart now, just holding him down and denying him any of the confidence he usually had. She had been off with him ever since they had found one another which, after some probing and careful tiptoeing, he had realized that she was still angry and a little confused about what he had said.

It was obvious that it had been going through her mind and she had started thinking about it on a deeper level, despite his words being more of a defensive response to Cyborg’s jabs, than anything else.

God, he couldn’t wait to give Cyborg double training when they eventually got home.

He inwardly scolded himself for not giving her credit where the English language was concerned. At first, he thought she was confused over the wording but after some time, he learned that she knew full well what Cyborg meant by his word choice.

She was upset because he seemed so flippant and dismissive of it altogether.

Robin closed his eyes for a moment and tried to organize his scattered mind. There was a plethora of thoughts racing through his brain, including finding the others, hoping they wouldn’t run into any other weird beast like creatures as well as getting off of this crumbling planet as soon as possible.

But, sitting at the forefront of all of that, was Starfire. He was concerned about her and their friendship too. Back when they had started falling, she had been unable to tap into her flight and it had utterly terrified him when she had yelled that she couldn’t fly.

It had never happened before.

Starfire had always been solid in terms of relying on her powers and she’d never faltered in the slightest in any battle they had had since they’d first banded together as a team.

On the flip side, he wanted to know if they were okay. One of the main reasons he had always steered away from admitting to any romantic feelings towards her was because he didn't want their friendship to change because of any harboured emotions.

He bowed his head and opened his eyes again, allowing the hand that was resting against the cave wall to slide down the jagged surface until it fell away to his side.

Swallowing sharply, he shook his head and turned around, wandering back towards their makeshift safe spot.

His heart was beating a mile a minute as he reached her, throwing the branch into the flames and watching as she shifted away slightly so that her back faced him a little more.

Robin frowned and slowly sat on the opposite side of the wooden log, “Starfire…” He murmured, his tone soft, “What happened back there? Why couldn’t you fly?”

He heard her sniffle quietly before she turned to gaze at the fire, her expression telling of what she was feeling. She looked tired and frustrated; upset that she had had no real answers to her questions since the explosion back at the space station.

“Tamaranean powers are inclined by our emotions…” She admitted, her eyes lacking the electric spark they usually had.

“So the way you feel affects your ability to fly.”

Starfire nodded solemnly, her emerald orbs shifting with uncertainty, “And right now, I feel unfamiliar confusion.”

“But… we’ve faced danger before without your powers failing.” Robin pointed out, a sudden heat consuming the back of his neck as he sensed it wasn’t exactly that, that was the problem,

Starfire sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, her feet resting on the log as she turned her head away to the dark side of the rocky cavern.

“It is not danger that confuses me, Robin. It is you.” She confessed, opening her eyes and staring directly at him, “I do not understand… us.”

Robin felt his throat run dry and he fought not to visibly react to that, despite his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest with the anxiety that came hand in hand with these types of discussions. He pulled an awkward expression, without even realising it, as the inferno creeping up the back of his ears intensified and he knew it was only a matter of time before the blush spread to his cheeks.

“Ever since Cyborg said… the ‘girlfriend’... things are different between us.” She continued, tilting her head a fraction,

Reverting back to what he thought might work, Robin forced a smile onto his face and held a hand up to stall her words, “It’s... just a misunderstanding....” He explained, “Everything’s okay.”

He tried to brush it off and act as though things were absolutely fine when he knew, deep down, they were not and this wasn’t something that Starfire was going to simply let go without talking about.

And… maybe that was a good thing. Possibly.

Starfire rebuffed this and got up from where she had been perched, “Everything is not okay.”

She moved away from him, once again turning her back on him as she shuffled into the shadows of the cave. He frowned, hating the air of sadness that was tainting her voice every time she spoke.

He more so hated the fact that he was the cause for said sadness.

“We are not okay. I fear we will never be okay again and you will not tell me how you feel.” She whimpered, trying to detach from him by standing so far out of reach.

Robin stood as well, clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his cape as he crossed some of the distance between them, “Uh… I’m not… very good at that.”

It was the truth. He supposed he should probably be honest with her about how difficult he found situations like these. Despite not wanting to talk about feelings at the risk of making himself vulnerable, he realized it was Starfire and if anyone deserved some kind of answer to the way he acted, it was her.

Starfire sniffled again and slowly half turned towards him, her expression one of discouragement, “Do Earth boys come with… some kind of manual then?”

He was powerless to stop the soft smile that graced his lips at that, once again acknowledging how endearing and sweet she was, without even realizing it herself.

Robin breathed a laugh, “That would make things easier.”

She spun on her heel and strode back over to him, keeping her distance by remaining on the other side of the scorching blaze. Her eyes bored into him, silently pleading with him to offer something up, just to satisfy her doubts in some way, “How am I to know what you think about me?”

Robin sucked in an exasperated breath, having not been prepared for this at all and knowing, if he were to try and explain to her what he felt or even, what he liked about her, he’d become a babbling mess.

“Starfire…” He sighed, practically his whole upper body slumping as defeat started to consume him.

There were so many things that he liked about her. In fact, it was probably a shorter list to tell her what he didn’t like and that was extremely barren.

He loved how carefree and bubbly she was and how even the simplest things on Earth were things she found utterly fascinating whilst the average human wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.

He loved how caring and sweet she was with everyone around her. Whether they were friend or foe, she constantly tried to see the positive and the good in individuals who, most of the time, didn’t even deserve it.

He loved how intelligent and strong she was, being able to handle herself in practically every situation she found herself in. Her powers were just an extension of her warrior self, fully capable in the art of combat, should the need ever arise.

Robin blinked to himself as reason after reason sailed through his head, her question having stayed with him for so long, he suddenly realized that he hadn’t replied to her at all. He cleared his throat and ignored the way his face was now roasting with embarrassment,

He wasn’t sure he could say any of that to her and rather do what he most likely should have done and told her what he thought about her, Robin simply flapped his mouth open and closed, again and again like a fish gasping for breath.

Starfire’s demeanour slipped and whilst she had looked hopeful and excited to hear what he thought about her and their relationship status, it suddenly dwindled faster than water trickling down a drain.

Her eyes became dull and her shoulders lowered, casting a glance off to the side before she took a step away from the fire again,

Robin felt trapped; he didn’t know what he could say to possibly salvage this. He had just been handed a silver platter of a chance, to clear things up between them but there was something in the pit of his stomach that simply refused to let him open up in such a way.

“It… It does not matter…” She whispered, her tone low, “I am... sorry for pushing you to speak about this and… it is clear to me that… Cyborg was wrong. I am not your girlfriend and I… should never have expected or assumed otherwise.”

He could see her chest rising and falling a little faster than before and he took the smallest step forward, unsure if she was crying, her face being distorted by the dim lighting being cast around the cave.

Robin swallowed the mountain in his throat, panic and regret locking in his chest. He was already kicking himself for not saying anything, leaving her to stew in her own insecurities in relation to him and how he felt about her.

There was a frantic aura, flaring in his head like alarm bells. He wanted to take it back, redo the whole conversation and set it straight that he thought she was beautiful, kind and amazing; just a few traits, beyond an entire list of other reasons why he was falling more in love with her every day since he met her.

“Star-” He croaked, reaching a hand out to her.

She stepped away and offered him the tiniest smile that spoke volumes of how she was truly feeling; the conversation not having gone at all how she hoped it would and it was all down to him for being an idiot and deflecting her.

He didn’t blame her in the slightest. Starfire was a creature of emotions. Tamaraneans wore their hearts on their sleeves, being open with how they felt and what they thought which was a stark contrast to how most humans operated.

Starfire had often pointed out that humans constantly seemed to complicate matters with words and logic, rather than just riding out circumstances with their hearts.

“There is a storm coming.” Starfire blurted, briefly eyeing the darkening sky through the small gap in the side of the cave; a sure fire exit once it was safe.

Blinking, Robin inclined his head to catch a glimpse of the outside. The sky was full of dark clouds, with an amber shade drenching the entirety beyond it. He continued to stare out until he saw a flash in the distance, illuminating the clouds before it faded out.

Soon enough, dust and sand began to swirl as the wind picked up and howled outside. He considered asking Starfire if it was a sandstorm, since she would be more familiar with the types of storms that happen in space, but ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the most appropriate time.

“I believe we should rest and try to find our friends once it is safe outside.” She suggested, tentatively pushing some of her auburn hair behind her ear, “Who knows? Perhaps they will find us, instead.”

Robin watched in silence as she moved around their little campsite and he wished he could grapple for something to say.

“We probably shouldn’t sleep… we don’t uh… we don’t know if there are more things like that slug…” He murmured as he crouched down, trying his best to respect her wishes to be on the whole other side of the fire from him.

Starfire nodded, “We do not necessarily need to sleep. If you would prefer to stay awake…”

He watched as she lowered herself to the ground, brushing at the dirt before she laid her head down, turning away without saying anything at all. Robin frowned and felt an empty bubble in his stomach; a hollow guilt and he wanted to apologise to her and make things better but… he really didn’t know how.

How could he possibly make it better after practically avoiding her questions and her frustrations all day?

Robin exhaled quietly and tried to ignore the painful thuds in his chest as he laid down on the hard dusty concrete. He threaded his gloved fingers together on top of his ribs and chewed on his lower lip as he delved deeper into his chasm of worries.

Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind whistled through the entire cave, setting the overall temperature down to a bitter coldness. Robin flinched and tugged the edges of his cape around the exposed parts of his arms that weren’t covered by his uniform, struggling not to jerk at the bite that the cold offered.

He cautiously glanced over at Starfire, noticing that the fire was really brawling with the winds in order to stay alive. She had barely moved, as if not even noticing how chilly the air around them had become.

Robin inclined his head, trying to suppress the shivers that were wracking his body as he peered out of the small opening of the cave, only to see blustering dust particles so thick that he could no longer see the cliffs outside.

His breath came out shakily as he shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut beneath his mask, surprised at how quickly his body temperature had dropped. His teeth started to chatter as a deep iciness started creeping along his skin.

“Robin?” Starfire murmured, and he could partially hear her shuffling and turning back in his direction,

He kept his eyes closed, trying his best to block out the cold by pulling his cape even tighter around his body. All he could hear was the crackle of the fire and the billowing wind outside.

Suddenly, he felt a weight drop down beside him and his eyes snapped open, his head swivelling to see Starfire making herself comfortable beside him. She stared down at him with concern in her expression but he was baffled by how calm and unaffected she was by the blizzard frost in the air.

“H-How are you… able to deal with the cold?” He stammered, watching as she scooted closer, gently pushing him towards the fire to warm him back up.

“My people are most resilient, especially to low temperatures. You forget… I am from space.” She told him, a wry smile gracing her lips.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“You are freezing, Robin. My body heat runs much higher than humans and I believe I can help.” She replied, laying down beside him and bringing her arms around his torso, rubbing her palms against his exposed areas of skin.

The heat was practically instantaneous. Warmth spread across the planes of his skin like wildfire; everywhere she touched was ignited with fire and he momentarily wondered if she was adding her powers to it for maximum exposure.

Robin exhaled, his jaw aching from where it had been chattering uncontrollable merely 2 minutes beforehand.

His shoulders dropped and he relaxed as the cold seeped away from him, thanks to the alien Princess who was effectively just holding him now.

“Robin? Are you okay?” She asked, beginning to pull away.

He grabbed onto her hands and pressed them against his chest again, with his back still facing her.

“Don’t… I… it’s still really cold.” He admitted, feeling a blush slip across his cheeks.

“Okay.”

They dipped into silence again as they laid there, with only the wind howling outside filling the space. Robin couldn’t deny that being this close to her was nice, especially since they hadn’t really been on great speaking terms since he messed up.

He could feel something building inside of him and decided that now would be the only other chance he had to try and explain himself to her and apologise for the confusion he had caused her.

“Hey… Star?” He murmured,

“Yes?”

Robin turned over so that he was facing her, despite the blush that was likely still painted across his cheeks, “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

Starfire blinked but lowered her chin, her gaze dropping to the small patch of dirt between them, “Robin…”

“Really… I… I don’t know why I reacted like I did when Cyborg… said what he said.” Robin muttered, furrowing his brows as he recalled it in his mind,

“I am not your girlfriend… I understand now what was meant.” She whispered, taking solace in just forgetting it,

“Star… I’m not the best at talking about feelings… I was never taught that and… I’m just not good at it.” He admitted,

“Robin… it is fine. Truly.”

“I wouldn’t mind it… you know.” He blurted, his face turning a crimson tone and he couldn’t look directly at her.

Starfire blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what he had just said to her, “What?”

“Having… a ‘friend who is a girl’ as you put it.” He elaborated, smiling slightly as he repeated her own words,

She softly smiled back, “Truly?”

“I… think I’d need to get used to the idea of it… but… yeah.” He paused and decided to go all the way considering he was already opening himself up considerably, “And… as for what I think about you… I think… it’s uh… awesome the way you shoot starbolts?”

Starfire brightened at that and tilted her head, “Yes? And?”

“And uh… it’s also cool that you’re brave and the strongest girl ever.”

“And… you do not mind having a friend who is a girl?” Starfire checked, visibly a lot more pleased with his communication,

Robin sat up and gently pulled her up with him and smiled back at her, opening his mouth to reply but was cut short by a loud rumbling from behind them.

As they spun to investigate the sound, the wall shook and crumbled, collapsing to reveal the screaming monster that had apparently followed them to this wasteland of a world.

The couple gasped and jumped up as the monster growled, stalking towards them before it opened its mouth and let out a long, ear piercing shriek, preparing to attack.

#robstarweek #robstarweek2020 #robin #starfire #robstar #teen titans #fanfic #oneshot #day 2 #warmth #queued #nightglider124

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marielambs-corner · 4 years ago

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(Might not have something totally fleshed out, but wanted to give some plot-points regarding a new AU from the list so here you got...)

Ink Guardian AU

In-game kind of AU, but might also explore moments pre/post game (more likely pre-game).

Like so many art of the two demons together which this AU is inspired from, it got them both together in some sort of sibling relationship.

Both identify themselves as Bendy. But since one is The Ink Demon, the other decided to call himself The Dancing Demon. That way they both have some sort of last name to identify them as siblings!

The little Bendy likes to call his older sibling Inky and himself Dancey.

Inky has no real voice, but Dancey can completely understand him.

Actually, Dancey has a great ability to understand Anyone with no voice, varying from the pained moans of the searchers (not a fun thing to hear) to what the reeling screeches from The Projectionist mean.

Dancey feels bad when the other Studio denizens see Inky only as a monster, not even recognizing him as a Bendy.

Inky is highly protective of Dancey. Doesn't need to be over him all the time given his ability to sense most of what's within the studio, so Dancey roams around somewhat freely. But get to lay a finger on him, and you got The Ink Demon full on murder rage mode.

But since the lower you go the nearer to the machine you are, the less he's able to see clearly. This due to the machine interfering with his senses, which forces him to actually move around in order to know what's going on. That's why, unless with him, the lower levels are off limits for Dancey.

Dancey is, although, pretty inocent. Still believes there's some bit of good in those within the studio, even with all the corruption and hate that's in the hearts of most of them.

Being how inocent Dancey is, he always tries to befriend the studio creatures that seem less menacing. This, although, not always ends up well, as anyone knows he's under The Ink Demon's protection.

Inky feels actually regretful of this. He knows Dancey is the true and only Bendy (from the perspective of their creators), and knows he's full of joy and cheery and with a knack for mischief and love for his friends. But thanks to him, he's not welcome around others. Although, he also knows, if he let Dancey on his own, there are many dangers that could befall upon the little demon, and he won't let that happen.

Both know the atrocities commited by Joey Drew. Inky from personal experience with so much abuse and pain, but Dancey from more a toony approach picturing him like some sort of villain that's even worse than himself, and he himself is a demon, so his standard of "evil" is pretty high.

Both also know of the fate of most from the studio. They know about Susie, Sammy, Lacie, Shawn, Grant, Bertrum and Buddy. The have some sort of an inkling about that second angel (AKA Allison) and Tom. Dancey has some hopes about Wally being out of here, but Inky can't count on that truly. And about Henry, that is a foggy matter for them both; all they know is from rumors spread by the evil creator, so not a thing they can trust so much.

And that's regarding what our main duo is like in this AU. But what about what happens during this time, AKA when Henry is back?

Well...

Dancey is really curious about him. Never seen someone with so different colors so he's kinda fascinated.

Inky still believes that anyone near Dancey is danger, that's why he goes all against him.

Henry doesn't seem to understand why there are two Bendys, but since one is so violent, he rathers avoid both of them, unwilling to unleash their fury.

Dancey still tries to get near him. Henry still tries to shoo him, although with little results.

Ch. 3 is more of a chance for Henry to see them both interacting, seeing Dancey talking to The Ink Demon and how... uncharacteristically calm and not-violent he is towards the little toon.

Ch. 4, after Alice takes Boris away, is Dancey the one to wake up Henry, explaining him what happened, and also telling him how in trouble he'll be for coming down with no permission from Inky, but he wanna help.

Dancey is left behind the moment they're attacked by The Projectionist and saved by Inky. The Ink Demon spares Henry for the time being, wanting to take Dancey to a safer place, but Dancey squiggles on his hold, running after Henry, and finding the terrifying result of Alice's experiments on Boris. That breaks him, and goes back with Inky, crying.

When Henry gotta escape from Tom and Allison's safehouse in Ch. 5, he can hear Dancey's voice, pleading Inky to not go rampant with them, as they haven't done anything wrong.

Inky knows Henry wants to end this, and that's why he goes all against him. If he ends this, would also mean he'd end Dancey. And that's a big No.

All that Dancey wants to do is to talk once more with Henry and understand things, even if that'd mean he has to finish it all after that.

And that's all I got for now! You're curious? Wanna know more? Be my guest and ask away!!!

#BATIM #Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM AU #Bendy AU #Bendy the Dancing Demon #The Ink Demon #Ink Guardian #Ink Guardian AU #Lamb talks

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mother-snake · 4 years ago

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a guide to the other side pt 6

( okay, so same as normal, read the other parts to understand some of this. but i suppose this could be a stand alone. second i know the last bit of lyrics is missing. its intentional)

start: thursday previous: a guide to the other side pt5 next: a guide to the other side pt 7

-what was in the past stays there. but it always had its ups and downs for our scaled friend-

words: 5558 warnings: heavy angst and not as much fluff as planned. tears may happen(if im missing anything plase say somthing!)

It's quiet uptown

He looked around the room with panic, the light had faded but he could still feel the numbing pain that spread into himself. Who was he…? he shakily stood up in the room he was in. he knew it was his. He looked up at the wall to see pictures. People he barely remembered. But he knew their purposes… so what was his?

He saw a blacked-out figure in each photo… he knew that was him. But not… at the same time.

Tears poured out his eyes. Who was he… who was he… who… he let out a scream and clamped his hands on his ears. He didn’t like this. where was his other half? He didn’t want to be alone. He needed the other.

He sobbed into his black jumper. Tucking his head into the necks sleeve. he cried himself to sleep that day.

He ignored the talking on the outside of the door, and stared blankly as tears poured down his face. He rubbed his eyes constantly trying to dry them. An inky black substance started to dry onto his hands.

He cried harder. He didn’t want to be alone.

There are moments that the words don't reach There is suffering too terrible to name You hold your child as tight as you can And push away the unimaginable The moments when you're in so deep It feels easier to just swim down

It was a week after his other half appeared. He stuck by their side. Despite being created later, he was almost a head taller. And protective. His first action had been to hug the other. And in that moment, he felt complete.

They had been as quiet as possible, walking past the orange and silver doors of their family. Knowing that they would end up hurt if they alerted them to their presence outside their rooms.

They had been doing this for the entire week. Sneaking out in hopes of having some adventures. Staying in the room had been boring for them both.

They reached the mirror that lead to the imagination quicker than they had the previous days. Janus clung to the others pink jumper tightly. Not letting go as they stepped in and into the bright luscious green forest filled with light and colour. Very few black and greys.

Janus felt a small smile appear on his lips. he took his brothers hand and pulled him into the forest. Running at a speed that his brother could barely keep up. but both laughing joyfully.

They arrived at the tower they had found on their third day exploring. Hidden away by stone and vines. “hello!” Janus yelled. a low rumble could be heard from the top. A scaly head poked its head from above. A wide toothy smile showing sharp canines. the dragon spread its wings and soared down, a bright red light flashed and the dragon shifted from its normal form into one of a women with a pointy hat. “hello children, its good to see you again,” she smiled. “oh my, where did you get that nasty bruise Theodore?!” she fussed.

“pops’ aren’t the nicest, but its okay! Janus is fine,” he smiled brightly. “well come on the, ill treat it. I also have something with your name son it. come on now,” each side took a hand as he led them to their home.

She was kind. They hope she wouldn’t turn out like their dads… but they knew their chances were slim. They hope she’ll stay their friend

The sanders move uptown And learn to live with the unimaginable

It was cold that day in the imagination. They couldn’t stop shivering. The white stuff falling out of the sky froze their skin with each small drop. the dragon-witch had set up a fire for them to warm themselves up in. they were confused as to why she had hung giant socks above the fireplace. or why there was shiny things strung around a tree. Blinking away in a rhythm. She had laughed as they stared at them for several minutes. “they are called Christmas lights sweethearts,” she smiled as she wrapped a blanket around the two and handed them cups of coco. “I must ask, why do you come here so often? You must have friends?” “no, it’s just us…” Theodore said, getting a small nod from Janus. “I know some people who would love to meet you, would you be okay with that?” she asked.

The siblings looked at each other. Seemingly having a mental conversation. She could never understand how they did that no matter how long she’d seen them do it. “okay then,” Theodore said with a smile. “ill talk to them tonight,” she said and walked away.

They looked between each other excitedly. They hadn’t had a friend before. The dragon-witch could count, but she was more of a mother to them. Not that they minded.

They had arrived later than they had wanted that day and could feel the emotions leaking into the room… they had stayed far too long and were going to go through another round of hell… they had tried to be quiet. They had almost made it to their rooms… both blacked out and woke away from the other. If wrath or insanity heard their pleas to get back to the others side. They didn’t come.

I spend hours in the garden I walk alone to the store And its quiet uptown I never liked the quiet before I take the children to church on Sunday A sign of the cross at the door And I pray That never used to happen before

They sat in a luscious green field. Theodore’s newly formed scales glittering away in the luscious sun. Janus’s black jumper had remained the same. Theodore wore a new bright pink one, replacing his old black one. Brining out his scales beautifully in Janus’s opinion. “do you think they would accept us?” Janus asked.

They were waiting on the theirs to arrive. The dragon-witch had dropped them off here, saying she would tell the others there were new sides waiting.

Janus had a half made carnation crown in his hands. They were white but the tips blushed with a light pink. He was working on looping the final one when he saw two figures burst from the tree line that lead into the field. Janus was sat atop of an old structure, Theodore sat higher than his brother.

The figures looked at the two of them with surprise. They walked forwards towards them. one was waring blacks and grey. A purple bandana kept their bangs out of their face. the other wore a bright green princely costume that belonged to a evil king or prince looked like it came out of the books the dragon witch let them read. “excuse me, who are you!” purple bandanna spoke. “I’m depression, this is my brother. His name is repression!” “I’m paranoia, this is imagination.” “come join us!” Theodore patted the wall next to himself.

Much to his surprise paranoia removed his hoodie and wrapped it around his waist. six spider legs appeared and he began to climb almost in humanely. imagination snapped his fingers to reveal tentacles that looked like they belonged to a sea monster. several friendships were formed that day. All would last only a year long.

If you see him in the street, walking by Himself, talking to himself, have pity

They had slowly begun to stand up to their captors, the two others and their mother giving them the mental strength to do so. They should have guessed they wouldn’t back down from a fight.

And it cost more than they were willing to admit. Virgil lost half of his spider legs… Remus barely had his sanity in-tact. Theodore lost both of his legs… replacing them with plastic ones that the dragon-witch created for him.

It was their fault. They had begun to argue during the battle that locked wrath and insanity away. Janus had removed any memory of them fighting insanity. Knowing it was for the best. But leaving them to remember wrath.

Janus right now was curled up into Theo’s side, who still was yet to wake up from the fight. This replacement legs sat at the side collecting dust. he whimpered as he clung to the other like a lifeline. And he was. He didn’t want to lose his other half. He wouldn’t let him go anywhere. No matter what. He would kick and scream if need be.

He knew that Remus and Virgil wouldn’t visit. They saw them as a danger towards Thomas and would hide them as best as possible knowing them.

It would be decades before the get their chance. And for now, Janus was okay with that. He still had his brother, mother and home. That’s all he wished for right now.

Thomas, you would like it uptown It's quiet uptown

He laughed as Theodore jumped on his bed. Shaking himself awake. It had officially been three years since their split. They laughed as they snuck away to the imagination, knowing they could stay there all year.

The tower was covered in pinks and yellow. It wasn’t filled with many people. Just him, his brother and the dragon-witch. But that was okay to him.

His happiness always seemed to infect the other two. He wasn’t sure why or how it was possible. But he tried to do it as often as possible. He knew his brother hid things from him. Like how his abilities took his toll on the other. so he made it his mission to make the other happier. Sure, he wasn’t very good at keeping his own emotions in check. But as long as his brother was okay that was enough for himself.

“happy birthday kids… you’re all so grown up. can I even call you kids anymore?” “we’re twenty. But were always going to be your kids. Don’t think that will ever change,” Janus said as he smiled.

A soft yellow scared wrapped around his neck. Despite his scales had just formed. only being a feint grey, yet to show their true colours.

He loved the colour yellow anyways. It always brightened a room.

He is working through the unimaginable

It had been a week. His brother said he would be back in two days. So, where the hell was he? Where was his brother?

He felt fear strike his core. What if he was taken, what if the others had found a way to escape?

He hadn’t realised that he had gotten of the track of where he was walking whilst lost in his thoughts. It was when he fell down the hill, rolling along the ground uncontrollably. Hitting his entire body of the hard ground. Getting cut by wild thorns, twigs and stones that scattered the ground.

Pain filled every part of his body. He wheezed as he tried to get air back into his lungs, he could feel small bits of blood dripping down from his head.

He whimpered and stared at the sky. minuets turned into hours… and soon the sky was a dark black. The pain still hadn’t subsided. He knew that something was broken. He had run out of tears to cry and his voice was horse.

Where was his mum… where was his brother? Had they forgotten about him? had they heard his plea of help?

It was when he heard that guttural roar in the sky. She was near. and he tried to scream. But he only let out a small whimper.

He heard leaved and twigs crunching behind himself. was rolled over onto his back. His brother looked at him with eyes that screamed panic. “Janus?! What the hell happened,”

He felt the breath leave his lungs as he realised, he had worried his brother. “m’sorry,” Janus mumbled almost inaudibly. “don’t you dare apologise for this. I shouldn’t have worried you enough to go looking for me. Oh, how the turn tables,”

Janus let out a chuckle, but tried to stop himself as pain radiated into his chest.

“come on, lets get you home,” Theodore smiled, “and I won’t leave you. No matter what. I promise.”

His hair has gone grey. He passes every day They say he walks the length of the city

“we can’t!” Janus yelled as he slammed his hands down on his desk. “what’s the harm in doing so! You’re not one of us anymore. Your Janus deceit sanders! Why should you be scared about us showing face?” “they hate us with a seething passion. You know that!” “its been seven years, we’ve hidden away for long enough,” depression growled. “I can’t do it.” “fine then,” Theodore turned and walked away.

Janus sat alone on his bed that day, this was the longest he had gone without Theodor in ages and the fear was beginning to set in… what if he hated him? What if he didn’t return… what if he refused to be his bother anymore? his body began to rock back and forth, he was gripping his hair, ready to pull it out at any given second.

He hadn’t realised what he had done until he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. he snapped his eyes open to be met with a familiar grey hoodie. He sucked in a breath. “hay, are you a new side around here?” he asked gently as he pulled away from the hug. I only stared at him intensely…” Janus… my name is Janus.” “I’m Virgil. Its nice to meet a new side. What are you exactly then?” “I’m…” he froze before realising he only had one option, “I’m deceit, I help him lie his way out of potentially dangerous situations and lie to him so he can get want he wants,”

You knock me out, I fall apart

He sat in his new room. It had almost been a year… Christmas was coming around the corner and he was terrified. Had Theodore forgotten about him already? Was he doing better… did he care?

He shook his head and picked up his hat and placed it on his head. He wiped away the stray tear that slipped from his eye and stared at the door. he opened it and left for the dark side’s commons. A blank look on his face. It was better for him to hide his emotions. He looked around the space. Halloween tinsel hung on the walls. They didn’t have any other colour apparently. Not that they had minded all that much.

He walked down the hall, his shoes clicking on the floor as he made his way to the commons. He wouldn’t be celebrating this year. He didn’t know if he would be able to take the emotional turmoil.

His once childish appearance had been replaced for his sleeker clothing. He had taken on the villain look with a bit of a struggle. But if that’s what he needed to be to find a family. Then he would.

He hadn’t spoken much since he had arrived… well… ever since he had split, he hadn’t spoken much.

“you shouldn’t block those feeling you know,” Virgil said as he looked curiously at the other. “I’m not good at much else,” I muttered. “you always have time to change, everyone does,” he patted Janus on the back.

Can you imagine?

Janus slept in that Christmas. A heavy weight lying on his chest. A numbness he wasn’t aware a person could feel seeped into his bones. The sweet sound of his sobbing was the only thing to enter his ears.

He missed his brother. They had spent so long together… and now they weren’t. he didn’t know how his brother was. He hadn’t made the effort like Janus had to try and talk. it was like the other had vanished completely. as he lay tucked under the sheets like a burrito, he heard the knock on the door. But he didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything. whoever was on the other side still opened the door. He couldn’t tell who it was from his position facing the wall.

“Janus…” Virgil. of course, it would be him. He didn’t respond to the other. Instead he pulled the blanket further up. covering the lower half of his face. “Janus… please…we want to know what wrong; we can’t help otherwise.”

“am I a bad person?” Janus hushed. “what?” Remus muttered staring at the lump of blankets,” of course you’re not!” he growled. “heh… I wish I could believe that…” he whimpered into the blanket. “I don’t know where this came from or how long you’ve been thinking this. But you are one of the kindest people we know. And it would take a LOT for us to change our views,”

Janus let a weak smile form on his face as he sat up. he quickly rubbed his eyes. Normal tears falling from them. “thanks…” Remus laughed, “I think this is the first time we’ve seen you smile snake face. Keep it up and I might actually fall for you,” he sundered out of the room. “come out when your ready, there’s some things for you under the tree, and thanks for the new hoodie. I might start wearing it soon.” he walked out of the room. Leaving the other alone. And for the first time since he was created. He didn’t feel so alone without his other half. maybe he could make it through one year. but at least he had a family to do it with.

Look at where we are Look at where we started I know I don't deserve you, Janus But hear me out. That would be enough If I could spare his life If I could trade his life for mine He'd be standing here right now And you would smile, and that would be enough I don't pretend to know The challenges we're facing I know there's no replacing what we've lost And you need time But I'm not afraid I know who I married Just let me stay here by your side That would be enough

Virgil left… he was…gone. There one day. Gone in the morning. Janus locked himself in his room and screamed. He wailed and cried. He wanted his friend. He didn’t want him to leave. He was tired of people leaving. He wanted someone. He wanted someone who wouldn’t leave because he was always fucking up.

And then something in him went snap. he looked in the mirror and laughed. His eyes turning into black pools. His clothes shifting into the ones he had previously owned. His old childish look. His scales turning their deadly yellow and speckled with black.

He opened his door and slipped into Remus’s room, through his mirror and into the dark side of the imagination.

He ran and ran. He went as far as his legs could take him. His laughter rung in the air. Scaring away any beast that roamed the area.

The earth around him shivered in fear.

When he finally stopped running. He found himself somewhere he hadn’t been in a long time. Between making sure the darks never found out about him and all the other things piling up on top. He was pretty packed down on time.

The vines grew thick on the rocks, hiding the entrance to his old home. He let his shoulders drop. a shaky breath left him as he made his way forwards.

And he froze.

His breath hitched and he surged forwards. The tower that once stood high and tall was shattered halfway up. he reached into the wreckage and dug away. How long was it like this? How long had his home been destroyed. How much more was he going to lose?

Then as he dug through the wreckage something pulled him back. Tugging him away, and he turned to face the other. emerald eyes that held unknown levels of sadness. The eyes belonged to Remus. “I… I can’t lose… I can’t…” and the wall that he had tried so hard to build between him and the world broke.

He screamed and cried into the others shoulder. He held on as tight as possible, fearing that if he let go, the other would leave. “you knew her, didn’t you?” “she practically raised me…” he whispered silently. Remus gripped Janus in a vice like grip. He connected his eyes with the other, “I won’t leave you. Either we go together or we don’t go at all. I won’t leave you alone. Not now. Not ever.”

If you see him in the street, walking by her Side, talking by her side, have pity

Remus had stayed true to his word. Despite all the opportunities. All their arguments… he hadn’t left his side. Hugging him when scared and letting him cry and not asking several questions in a spitfire fashion. and he returned the favour. He had been thankful for the other, that he never left his side. And then it happened. They had come up with a plan to join the light sides.

And it had not gone of well. It had taken all his mental energy when he realised, he’d been found out. “it’s me Virgil, aren’t we friends?” “I don’t think we are.

“I don’t like him and his creepy, snake face.”

“get out of here, jack the fibber.”

When he rose into the dark sides space he visibly shuddered before falling to his knees. he curled into the smallest ball… he wanted Theodore. He would know what to say… it had been so long… how much longer would it be until the other gave him a him he was alive and well? When would he save him from this hell, he was living in?

“Janus!” Remus yelled as he pulled the others hands away from his hair,” Janus stop!” his eyes sapped open the other stared at him with wide eyes. He slowly stepped back. He knew the other had snapped. But he didn’t know what would happen. “Janus…calm down for me, okay?” “I wanna go home.” He cried out. Remus looked at him with pain filled eyes. “I know, but for now you’ve just got me. And I know you want something better than me, but for now… you’ve just got to deal with this bag of dangerous ideas and existential crisis’s,” Janus pulled the other into a tight hug, “I love you Remus. Never forget that.” “friend zoning me?” Remus laughed. Janus stared at him with a sad smile before leaning forwards and pecking his cheek. “oh,” he muttered, turning every shade red.

Janus tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and averted is gaze. “i... I’m not good with emotions… I never have been, but… I’m certain about this and I know that you don’t- “

He was cut off by a pair of soft lips connecting with his own. they spent the night together curled together, content in one another’s embrace. And for now, he felt hole… maybe not for long. But that was fine.

Janus, do you like it uptown? It's quiet uptown

It was after the court room that Logan had started appearing around the dark scape. the two had been startled by his sudden appearance one day but now it felt almost… natural to have the other around.

Janus had been the first to realise the other had started what he had done so long ago. Block away his feelings from everyone else. he had been quick to confront the other about it.

They suppose it was after that did, they realise that they had fallen for the logical side. Remus and Janus spent time when Logan was asleep on their laps gushing about how cute he looked.

Then Remus’s time to shine arrived. and they knew that this was happening for two reasons. Get Remus accepted as apart of Thomas and get Logan the acknowledgement he needed desperately without him knowing their plan.

It had, much to his surprise, worked. Remus’s door shifted over to the light sides area. He waited as he watched everything from Thomas’s eyes. Laughing when Remus almost summoned him on purpose.

When all was done and said, he sat patiently. Five minutes became ten and ten became an hour. he felt his lip quiver as he cried silently. He wasn’t coming back… of course he wouldn’t… his tears poured from his eyes. H curled in on himself. Remembering every moment, he had been left. Was this worth it? was it worth being alive if he was always going to end up on his own… thought swirled dangerously in his mind.

Warm arms wrapped around him. Then another pair. He sobbed harder. He looked to his left, Logan’s familiar black shirt in view. He turned to his right to catch his shoulder piece. Remus was back.

His breath shuddered as he realised. that yes, indeed. He wasn’t alone. They had come back… they’d returned for him.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave without you. Roman just wanted to talk for a couple minuets but he lost track of time. I’m sorry for leaving you this long sunflower,” he sounded so guilty it sent a spike of regret into Janus. “i.. I would like to help. And I think I know how to do it,” Logan said. the two turned to face him with wide eyes. “how?” Janus asked. “Thomas will be emotionally vulnerable during the period after the wedding. He doesn’t want to go. But I have a feeling the others will try and get him to lie to himself,” he paused for a second, “if things go south on my end, drag me out and replace me. Try and get through to Thomas.”

Janus stared in awe at Logan before leaping onto him with a hug. He quickly pulled back and leaned in and kissed the side on the lips. Logan froze for a second before kissing back.

When they stopped to breath, Remus began to laugh loudly. A blush on both Logan and Janus’s cheek. “I thought you two were- “ “were open to a poly,” Janus replied slyly. “only if you want to dork,” Remus grinned. Logan’s lips twitched into one of the widest, blinding smiles they’d both seen, “I’d love to.”

They spent the night in the dark scape cuddling, Remus and Logan’s body warmth sending Janus to sleep as the documentary played in the background.

He is trying to do the unimaginable See them walking in the park, long after dark Taking in the sights of the city

He stared at the space where his door used to be with a wide smile. He held both Logan and Remus’s hands. it had been several months since then. He was now one of the others, contributing when needed. Sure, roman and Virgil were wary of him… but that was okay. He had his bluebell and poison ivy by his side.

“it’s strange…” Remus muttered. “what is?” Janus asked staring at a part of what made him whole. “I… just feel like this isn’t over is all… that something big is coming. I can’t place why,” he said grimly. “well… that’s the future, for now… lets go and get some sleep tonight.” “come on… you enjoyed last night,” Remus said wiggling his eyebrows.

Janus laughed and elbow him in the side. Logan laughed at them. “I’m with Janus on this one. Sleep does sound nice today.” “fine,” Remus drawled.

Janus wrapped his arms around their waists and lead them out of the dark sides area. a wave of nostalgia hit him with every turn… “do you mind if I show you guys something?” he said as he stopped walking. “sure, I don’t mind a small detour,” Logan said. “of course my dear sunflower,” Remus grinned.

Janus grabbed their hands and sprinted as quickly as he could, dragging the other two behind himself. they only took a couple more turns before coming face to face with a large mirror. It didn’t show their reflection though.

He adjusted their hands in his grip and walked into the mirror.

Look around, look around, Janus

They arrived in the forest that he hadn’t seen in years. A small segment that even the twins couldn’t get to. Only accessible by someone who was a nightmare. not that he would tell them that any time soon. he pulled them along quietly, pulling them along a trail that seemed to have barely been disturbed by the surrounding land.

And there it was. A clean field with an open canopy of stars glittering in the sky, ouroboros lit the sky in beauty and style.

“is that… how,” Logan marvelled to himself. “how did me and roman not find this?” Remus muttered to himself.

They laid down and stared at the sky. The sky seemed to almost hypnotise all three of them but all for different reasons.

“are you okay?” Logan asked as he turned his head to Janus. said side reached his gloved hand up to his face. Wiping away the tears that seemed to fall as quickly as he tried to get rid of them.

“I’m fine…I promise,” he could taste his own lie… his mother had been the one to show Janus and Theodore the incredible view on that birthday night long ago.

Logan cuddled into Janus along with Remus. All three fell asleep in a silent slumber. Anything that had been troubling them forgotten.

Janus’s final thought crossed his mind…happy birthday brother. one final tear escaped as he slipped into sleep.

They are trying to do the unimaginable

He stared at his bedroom wall. It had been around a month since he had woken up. still bed ridden thanks to his leg. He stared at the door longingly with his one eye…

Would he come? Would he show himself and help him get through this like he had done for his brother all those years ago? a feeling flooded him. For the first time… he laughed sadly to himself and he stared at the celling. for the first time. He knew, he knew the other wouldn’t come. Why wate hope on the impossible. he was forgotten by the other. All the times they’d spent together were blurry to the other now. Barely any memories remained from when his brother was by his side.

He couldn’t make himself hate him though. As much as he would love to punch the other in the nose… that wasn’t him. He couldn’t hurt him no matter what happened. “I’m sorry,” he whispered lightly as he stared at the celling. a weight seemed to lift of him in one fowl swoop. Why did he bother thinking about something that would never happen?

He may have wanted his brother, but that doesn’t mean his brother wanted him. And that wasn’t fair on Theodore.

Patton opened the door and looked at the other with wide eyes, “what happened? Are you in pain? Do you need Logan or Remus?” he fussed as he moved the blanket further up Janus. “I… think I’m going to be okay eventually, it might take a while. But I might be okay one day,” he smiled weakly at the other.

He had a family now… if his brother didn’t care about him. Then that was Theodore’s loss. Not his. If he didn’t care about Janus. Then he didn’t care. Not anymore.

His brother made his decision long ago. Now he had made his.

He unconsciously rubbed the two rings on his finger. A happy smile on his face as he looked over to Patton. “can you get my two idiot fiancé’s in here?” Patton laughed, “of course, don’t worry they will be here within seconds.” “…Patton?” “yes?” “thank you for everything. I know im not the most honest person at the best of times… but I still thank you for trusting me despite all of that,” “no problem kiddo,” he ruffled Janus hair and left.

He had a new family now.

There are moments that the words don't reach There is a grace too powerful to name We push away what we can never understand We push away the unimaginable They are standing in the garden Theodore by Janus’s side She takes his hand

They sat in the commons. Logan wore a black suit along with Remus, Janus was wearing a white dress, the knee length showing his legs. a wide smile on his face as he chased Remus who had run of with his bouquet of bluebells, sunflowers and fake ivy.

Laughter rang in the air like a beautiful melody. Patton and roman watched on with enthusiasm Virgil was taking pictures of everything. Thomas stood next to Logan talking about the day that he had gotten together with the other two.

A peaceful aura surrounded them all.

Theodore peaked his head from behind one of the trees that lead to their childhood forest with a smile wide on his face. “congrats baby brother,” he whispered, small tears falling from his eyes as he saw how much his brother had changed.

Janus paused and looked around for a couple seconds. But as his eyes laned on the tree line, Theodore was gone. he shrugged and continued to chase Remus once again. Surrounded by everyone he loved.

It's quiet uptown

#Janus sanders #Roman sanders #Sander sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #Virgil sanders #janus angst #janus is babey #janus needs more love #introloceit #they are all baby #lots of angst #i am angst god #enjoy the story

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pandawritespoorly · 4 years ago

Text

With Time: Something Happened

Author’s Note: The doc for this is titled 'Drink some water you coward'. My friend needed to drink water but wouldn't, and I made a threat that I fulfilled. I won't say who I killed, but those of you who have been around long even may remember a tumblr post from long ago. (Heh heh, reblogged it to bring it back a few days ago)

Here's that story, which I can finally post now that With Time is over.

(Sorry for the angst. I'll post something fluffy soon.)

Summary: The team goes up against Hawkmoth, and something happens.

!!! Warnings: Character Death, Violence

It had been years. Years upon years of fighting against Hawkmoth. It had gotten bad enough that Adrien and Marinette had eventually needed to give their friends their miraculouses permanently.

It hadn’t been solely a bad thing of course. They’d been planning on doing it soon enough, but it’d happened sooner than they’d intended.

Of course, after spending a good six years - almost seven - Marinette and Adrien could not be ready for this day.

The final face off with Hawkmoth.

The man that had been terrorizing the heroes, the city, for years.

They’d tracked him down after learning of Mayura’s identity.

“How did I not know?” Chat Noir stares at the mansion he was raised in, “He’s my father! I grew up in the same building he was attacking the city from!”

“Adrien-” Ladybug begins.

“I’m supposed to be a hero! What kind of-”

“Adrien-” it’s Kit Mime this time, gripping his shoulder and turning the other boy to face him, “None of us blame you.”

“You should.”

“No, we shouldn’t. He kept it from the entire city, y’ couldn’t’ve known,” Tortue Verte cuts in.

“The entire city wasn’t living with him this whole time! For fuck’s sake, he attacked my school the most! He wasn’t even subtle!”

“Adrien, it’s not-” Honey Bee also tries to interrupt him.

“All those attacks where he or I was targeted! How could I not have realized-” gloved hands dig into blond hair, green eyes vacant.

“Chat-”

“My name literally means ‘dark butterfly’, I mean come on!”

“Adrien!” Ladybug snaps. She isn’t angry, just trying her best to reign him back in.

He pauses, taking a breath to steady himself.

“Kitten, none of us blame you,” Kit Mime keeps his own gloved hands on Chat Noir’s shoulders, “So you shouldn’t be blaming yourself.”

The hero looked doubtful, but didn’t respond.

“He’s right,” Ladybug comes to his side as well, hugging him tightly.

Doing so triggers a group hug among the heroes. There’s a lot of feelings towards what’s about to happen.

There’s a lot to process, but they didn’t have much time. They wanted to settle this as quickly as possible - both for Paris’ sake and to avoid Gabriel getting suspicious.

“Alright. Let’s go,” and Chat leads the charge into the house.

It’s time to end this.

---

Despite having hoped to take the man by surprise, he must have been clued in somehow. They burst into his lair to find it empty.

They tense, walking forward hesitantly and looking around cautiously.

“Where-” Honey begins to speak.

There’s a sound, quiet enough that only Kit and Chat hear it. They motion for silence and turn in the direction, night vision carefully scanning the area.

Honey Bee inhales sharply.

“This would be an ideal time to hand over your miraculouses.” a cold voice cuts through the silence.

The group turns to see Hawkmoth himself standing before them, sword drawn from his cane and pointed precariously near the heroine’s neck. She stands stiffly, hands raised slightly.

Low growls come from the two tallest boys, while Ladybug and Tortue shift to fighting positions.

“Give it up Gabriel,” Chat snarls.

“You’ve lost,” Kit Mime adds.

“It would seem I was correct to assume that Nathalie had been compromised,” the tip of the sword pushes further into Honey’s neck, and she tilts her head safely away.

“Gabriel Agreste, your reign of terror on Paris is over. Hand over your miraculous.” Ladybug holds out her hand, glaring at the monster before them.

“No. Not until I’ve completed my goal.”

“The consequences of any wish would be catastrophic. The world can’t afford your selfishness-”

“Selfish?!” The man roars, “You are the selfish ones! I only want what’s best for my family! What’s best for my son!” In his anger, he gestures carelessly and a pinprick of blood appears on Honey Bee’s neck as he speaks.

Chat Noir growls, snapping and swiping at the man, “What’s best for your son?! What’s best for your son?! How is terrorizing Paris supposed to help your son?!”

Taking the distraction, Honey Bee ducks and slides over to her other teammates. Tortue looks worriedly at her neck, but she smiles at him, “I’m fine,” she says quietly.

Kit Mime seems to disagree, scowling - a rare expression for him - and joining his friend in the barrage of attacks at the supervillain.

“Well,” Ladybug says, readying her yo-yo, “We do this like we always do…”

Honey Bee and Tortue Verte speak with her, readying their own weapons and dropping into offensive stances, “...together.”

The trio joins their teammates in the fight.

---

They didn’t think it was going to be this hard. Especially given that it was five to one.

Yet here they are. At least one and a half hours later, and the fight hadn’t gotten anywhere.

They’re exhausted.

Maybe it’s closer to two or three hours. None of them have really bothered to check the time, simply focussing on their goal, aiming to end this nightmare as soon as possible.

Hawkmoth swipes his sword at the spotted girl. She dances away to the best of her abilities, though she feels it makes contact anyways.

It wasn’t the first time, and she’d stopped checking once they’d all been false alarms.

Her suit is impenetrable after all.

This needed to end soon. The exhaustion of her team was palpable, but somehow Hawkmoth seemed fine.

Maybe he was just better at hiding it. Or he had more experience. The reason didn’t really matter to her anyways.

The team of five continues in their assault, their teamwork they’d built up on for the past five years shining through.

Still, it wasn’t a perfect art, and mistakes were bound to happen.

No one is quite sure how it happens, but the frenzy of movement halts when Hawkmoth wrenches Kit Mime toward him by the arm.

“Let him go,” Honey Bee growls.

“Give up your miraculouses.” It’s basically his mantra with how many times he’s said it now. He’s holding the fox hero to him tightly, gripping his neck from behind so that both miraculous holders are in clear sight.

“That’s not going to happen,” Chat repeats.

“This is your final warning,” Hawkmoth cautioned lowly, a hint of something in his voice.

He correctly takes their silent glares and battle stances as refusal.

The dark chamber is silent for a moment.

Five teenagers wait patiently for the next move.

A sickening crunch echoes through the room.

Even with most of them lacking night vision, their eyes have adjusted enough that they can see what happened.

Hawkmoth holds up Kit Mime by the neck, dangling the boy above the floor. The hero’s face is an unnatural color, and his feet kick uselessly at the floor, searching for traction.

His hands reach for the one that has crushed his throat, but the adult’s iron grip is too tight.

His teammates, friends, can only stand in horrified silence. The only sound is the ocaissonal scuffle of boots against the floor. The color that has appeared on his face is deepening, and his hands still claw at the one around his neck. His flute is on the floor, dropped in surprise when the moment came.

None of them are looking at any of that though.

It’s his eyes.

Kit- Claude’s eyes, normally bright and full of mirth are wide with fear.

Even through the worst attack, Kit Mime had been able to smile, keep things light and spirits up.

And now…

It’s when his eyes begin to glaze over, growing unfocused, that they break out of their trance.

Chat Noir’s and Honey Bee’s faces harden in resolve, both rushing forward.

Ladybug hears a furious ‘cataclysm’ and ‘venom’, which somewhat shakes her out of her oncoming attack. She can panic late, right now she has to…

What does she do?

Tortue isn’t doing well, hyperventilating beside her.

Kit Mime is still struggling in the villain’s grip, though his desperate kicks and gasps have become fainter, weaker.

The five of them couldn’t defeat Hawkmoth together, should she really let only two of them try alone? They need all the help they can get, right?

The heroine’s eyes dart back and forth, undecided. Comfort Tortue?

Help Chat and Honey with Kit?

Comfort Tortue?

Help Chat and Honey with K-

-it?

The moment of indecision costs her. In the time it takes Chat and Honey to cross the room, Hawkmoth grows impatient.

Tired of holding up the struggling boy, Hawkmoth tightens his grip on his sword, raises his hand, and runs it through the boy.

Honey and Chat can’t stop their momentum in time, Honey’s hand slides past the intended target, and she can’t pick herself off the floor, instead staring in horror at the scene above her.

The scene doesn’t last long.

Chat’s outstretched hand makes contact.

With an orange suit.

The darkness spreads like an inky disease across the brightly colored uniform. Shadowy tendrils make their way over it, spreading like a horrific wildfire and leaving nothing but ash and dust behind.

Chat Noir stares in terror at his gloved hand, now coated in dust that looked too soft for something so nauseating.

Reality chooses this moment to resume its normal speed. In comparison to the last eternal minute or two, everything feels like double speed.

Honey Bee manges to put together enough thoughts to hit her venomed hand to their foe’s leg, and stands to take the miraculous.

Chat hasn’t moved.

Tortue is barely breathing with how badly he’s panicking.

And Ladybug?

Ladybug defaults to her usual solution.

“Miraculous Ladybug.”

Claude’s body reappears right where it had been previously. He falls to the ground, the other heroes nearby follow him, too exhausted to do anything else.

After a moment they’re all far too aware of the fact that he isn’t breathing.

“Miraculous Ladybug.”

He remains still.

“Miraculous Ladybug.”

Nothing. She’s beginning to feel dizzy.

“Miraculous Ladybug.”

Why isn’t it working?

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Why isn’t he coming back?!

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Miraculous Ladybug!!”

How had this happened?

“Miraculous Ladybug!!!”

She feels sick.

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

Still nothing.

Her shouts become a repetitive echo, ringing through the terrible chamber. What else can she do? She’s the leader. She’s the one who fixes everything.

So why isn’t everything fixed?! Of the team, she’s the only one still speaking. The only one still standing.

Until she isn’t anymore.

The others look up after her quiet, pleading calls go silent, soon followed by a thud.

Against a surface other than her bright red suit, the alarming amount of blood flowing from a distressingly large gash in her side is hard to miss.

---

When Felix walks into the hospital room he does not know what to expect. He had known they were going after Hawkmoth, so the fact that Adrien had sent him a text with nothing but the words ‘we’re here’ and the hospital’s address and a room number concerned him.

Still, he did not want to jump to conclusions.

Perhaps Hawkmoth had been critically injured.

He repeated that thought over and over because the alternative-

No, there is no alternative. Hawkmoth is injured and his friends are fine.

He loops that thought.

Hawkmoth is injured and his friends are fine.

Hawkmoth is injured and his friends-

He walks into the room, hearing the steady beeping of the heart monitor and turns to see…

Marinette in the bed. All manner of tubes and wires attached to her.

When he manages to rip his eyes away, his fears do not cease.

Adrien is staring at Marinette, though his eyes are far away.

Allegra is barely holding herself together.

And Allan…

Felix hadn’t seen that look on Allan’s face since- since-

Something is missing.

Someone is missing.

“Where is Claude?” He barely manages to keep his voice steady.

Those three words are all it takes.

The Allegra’s final threads snap and she loses the little composure she already had. She falls to her knees like beggar and sobs.

The look on Allan’s expression gets worse, and he stops breathing momentarily, and even afterwards his breaths are irregular.

Adrien is gripping Marinette’s hand like a lifeline, head buried in the sheets of the hospital bed as he sits beside it.

No one speaks.

The picture is becoming very clear, but Felix just will not accept it.

Surely Claude is just somewhere else.

Grabbing something perhaps?

Another sob from Allegra is all it takes to dash all his hopes. Anyone with half a mind can see the only answer to this question.

Something happened.

The mission went wrong.

Claude is gone.

---

I'm just going to leave this here. No more words from me.

Reminder: This is very much not canon to my With Time storyline.

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javocjovian · 5 years ago

Text

No Rest For The Wicked - SPN Kink/ABO Bingo

Title: No Rest For The Wicked Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916011 Square Filled: Tentacle Kink (Kink Bingo), Monster Cocks (ABO Bingo) Ship: Sam x The Empty Rating: E Tags: Tentacle/Goo Monster, Sam is swallowed by goo, Sensory Deprivation, Multiple Orgasms, All The Way In, Deepthroating, Milking, Sounding, Knotting, Slick, Beta!Sam Summary: Sam makes an unexpected deal with the Empty to free Cas. Is Sam in over his head, or is he actually a massive pervert? (Spoiler alert: he's both) Word Count: 4798

Beta-ed by @shikaros-blog

Quote:

Sam knew he had peculiar proclivities. He'd made peace with that. He gave Dean crap about his taste in porn, but if Dean ever went through Sam's harddrive he’d probably try to exorcise Sam. Sam understood this. Still, he was pretty sure he’d just been propositioned by a monster, the strangest monster Sam had ever encountered, and Sam was finding it hard to ignore the creeping, gleaming tendrils lurking in the darkness behind his clone, undulating incessantly.

Sam Winchester had never been in a stranger situation. The plan he'd made with Death—to break into the Empty and rescue Castiel—was a bonafide Winchester plan: crazy, impossible, bordering on suicidal, but it went off without a hitch. Death had been surprisingly on board with it, too. Maybe she was hoping the Winchesters would get themselves lost in the Empty so she wouldn't have to ditch them there herself. Either way, she was happy to comply. Except, she only agreed to send Sam. Why she'd skip on the chance to ditch both brothers in the Empty was beyond them, but after a heart-to-heart conversation Dean agreed to let Sam go alone. Neither Sam nor Dean had any idea that in a few short hours Sam would be in a situation he could have never dreamed of.

What started as a rescue plan went all sorts of wrong. Sam ran into the entity known as The Empty right away. It assumed Sam's form, which was eerie enough, but it's voice was the most unnerving of all. It was Sam’s own voice, but warped. It was hollow and melodic, and sent shivers down Sam’s spine.

"Well of course Death sent you. I asked her to." Sam’s dark double trilled.

Sam had been fearing that, but it didn't break his determination to rescue Cas. But then the Empty gave him a proposition.

"You're not completely human, are you?" The eerie Sam circled him. "Hmm. No, no, no... You're not. I've been watching you, Sam. Hoping to see what makes you so special. Mm, yes… how about… I send Castiel home, in exchange for a favor?"

Sam was definitely unnerved. He’d come expecting a fight, but the Empty was ready to send Castiel right back to Earth.

"What favor?"

The Empty Sam smiled greedily. “Let me in. Oh no, not like those pesky angels. Let me just... explore you. Let me take you apart. See what makes you tick. You might enjoy it, Sam Winchester."

Sam's whole world paused. A decades old struggle immediately resurfaced in his mind.

Sam's lips formed the word "fine" before his brain could give it any more thought. The word was an admission, one that Sam would never share with another living soul.

"You'll send me and Cas back to Earth after?" Sam asked quietly.

"Oh, definitely,” the Empty smirked, twitching Sam’s own lips at him.

And that was how Sam found himself in what was possibly the most unusual situation he'd ever been in.

Sam didn’t have time to wonder how this would work, or what the Empty really meant by 'take him apart'. In less than a second the Empty Sam turned black, dissolved into a shapeless black mass, and seized the real Sam.

Sam was caught off guard and thrashed instinctively, but it proved to be useless. The goo was like quicksand, and it was infinitely stronger than Sam. He could do nothing to prevent the Empty from consuming him. Sam took steady breaths and closed his eyes, repeating to himself “This is for Cas. This is to save Cas.” Soon he was bound in a heavy, undulating goo, swallowed whole by the Empty.

When Sam opened his eyes, the darkness of the void had been replaced by a blackness deeper than anything Sam had ever seen. He wondered if this was what it was like being sucked into a black hole. He couldn’t move against the mass, but it billowed around him freely, churning and exploring Sam's body.

Sam felt it creep up his shirt, exposing his skin to the strangest sensation he had ever left. It was like solid water, or maybe liquid mass. It felt wet but left no trail or mark. It travelled up his body in viscous tendrils, touching every inch of his skin like it was counting Sam's atoms. The main mass coiled around Sam, spreading his limbs apart. Sam felt it probe up his back, around his neck and ears, then it began creeping down the hem of his pants.

Sam shut his eyes tight. He would never admit it, but he would have consented to this even if the Empty didn't have Castiel as a hostage. There was something about the way the Empty gleamed, it's inky black body shifting between liquid and solid, long amorphous tendrils probing everywhere. Sam was enthralled. Still, he couldn’t help but struggle as the tendrils wrapped around his thighs, sliding over his most sensitive areas. It latched onto every inch of Sam, from his fingers to his toes, then it finally curled around his cock.

Sam swore. It was such a strange sensation that, even as pleasure began to spread through his groin, his body jerked and twitched convulsively. Sam counted his breaths as the Empty consumed his cock. Separate tendrils ventured out from the mass to wrap around his balls. There wasn’t a single part of Sam not consumed by the vicious goo. Everything was being touched and caressed, and Sam had the impression that the Empty was examining him. Any pleasure it was causing was simply coincidental.

The mass pressed down all around him, yet undulated ceaselessly over his body, moving and swirling. Sam’s clothes had been dissolved, and he couldn’t see a thing. He didn’t know how he was breathing. Then he heard a voice in his ear—that same, warped, melodic voice.

“Oh, oh Sam. Sam Winchester. Hiding your secrets from me?”

Sam tried to shake his head, failed, and mustered out, “No.” The goo crept over his lips and Sam sputtered. It didn’t taste like anything but he didn't know what would happen if he got any in his mouth. “I’m not hiding anything,” he mumbled.

“Oh but you are. You are. I’ll have to go deeper. Take you apart. Inch by inch.”

As the Empty said it, Sam felt the mass press on his lips. “Mmf, n…” Sam tried to protest, but the goo around him was too strong. He felt his jaw pried open and the thick goo invaded his mouth in a heartbeat. It slid down his tongue, a jarring sensation in itself, then it ventured down his throat. Sam’s body reacted of its own accord, seizing and convulsing for breath, but then Sam realized he wasn’t actually choking. He could feel his lungs inflating comfortably even as the goo pressed on his lips and nose and filled his mouth and throat.

“I won’t kill you, Sam,” the Empty informed him. “No, no, that wouldn't do. Need you alive for this. So just… relax.”

Sam didn’t see much of an option. The Empty was right. He took a deep breath from nowhere, and found his ability to breathe quite unimpaired.

“Good, good,” The Empty purred. “A Beta like you… surprisingly virile. Complex…”

The Empty seemed to be speaking to itself as it moved slowly into Sam’s body, deeper and deeper. It was an intense, intimate sensation, and it made Sam feel full in an unexpectedly pleasurably way.

Once the shock of the sensation wore off, Sam realized the Empty was doing a lot of undulating around Sam’s cock. It was stroking and petting him, moving along every inch and creavase. Sam’s heart leapt and his body heated up. It felt like the Empty was trying to soothe him, albeit in a completely self-serving manner.

“I said relax.”

Sam's thoughts were slowing down, blurring around the edges as the goo caressed his cock and balls, and even the sensitive area in between. Sam had a hard time fighting off the sensations, and momentarily lost himself in them.

The Empty sensed that its strategy was working, so it began moving tantalizingly over every inch of Sam’s body. His palms, his neck, the soles of his feet, everywhere. Sam’s body trembled.

“Good. Very good."

The sound seemed to be coming from inside Sam’s head. Sam felt the mass around him spread his limbs out wider. It was molding his position, arching his back and bending his knees for him. Sam realized at once what was coming next.

"I need to go deeper. Try to enjoy it."

The mass’s movements became focused on Sam’s entrance. Sam jerked convulsively, but he barely caused a ripple in the goo. Just as it had covered his lips and opened his mouth, the mass pressed all around his entrance, spreading his cheeks and massaging the tight ring of muscle to slip inside.

Sam tried to move his body, to close himself off in any way, but it was like being suspended in tar. He could only writhe as a tentacle began filling his body. The mass continued to spread and swirl at his entrance as a gradually widening tentacle of goo probed deeper and deeper. The sensation was too much and Sam groaned. The sound was lost in the goo.

The Empty seemed absolutely uninterested in Sam's pleasure, using it only as a means to manipulate his body. It made Sam feel more helpless than ever. He summoned every ounce of self control not to fall apart as the Empty invaded him deeper than anything he’d ever felt in his life. His whole body was shaking. His cock was throbbing. His lips and hole were both quivering. The tentacle in his ass kept slithering coincidentally over his prostate, and it made Sam’s resolve crack piece by piece.

“There we are. Almost.”

Sam groaned. He couldn't take it. His hole was now stretched wider than ever, filled to the brim. His resolve slipped only once, but it was enough to flood him with pleasure. He felt the goo churning in and over his body and his cock became completely hard at last.

The Empty was eager to encourage this submission. The goo around Sam's cock shifted, and Sam felt it swirling around his cockhead. It was too slow to do anything but provide a constant stream of mind numbing pleasure. Sam could feel himself leaking precum. Every undulation against his prostate was milking it out of him. The Empty seemed interested in this. It wove around Sam’s cockhead and sucked, and Sam felt his body try to gasp. When the next undulation fell over his prostate, Sam felt even more precum leak out.

“Hmm…" The Empty crooned, "This must feel good, Sam. I told you you might enjoy it."

Sam whined as he felt the mass in his body change course. Sam knew he'd given away a weakness. He could feel more goo being sent into his ass. It took on a new shape, one with infinitely coiling ridges that brushed continuously over his prostate. Sam moaned and trembled. He’d never experienced anything like it. It was firm like a cock, but its shape was bizarre, colossal, stimulating Sam in places he never knew he had. It touched that delicate barrier of too-much, but never crossed over.

"That's good, isn't it Sam? I can tell. Oh, but you're doing so well now. Does this feel good?"

The Empty had found the perfect spot to milk Sam’s cock, and it kept it up while it continued to explore Sam’s body. Sam’s thoughts had stalled completely. The entire universe became the next stroke to his prostate, the next suck, the next massage to his balls and coil around his body. Sam would have gone completely limp if not for the continuously jarring sensation of being stroked from head to toe. Then the empty spoke again.

“I think you’ll really like this next part, Sam. I hope you do. I know I will.”

Sam didn’t know what else could possibly be done to him. He had no idea how any of this was providing the Empty with useful information. But he also didn’t want it to stop. This was the messed up part of him, the freak, the inhuman side that he’d never reveal to Dean. That part of Sam was in Heaven, ironically.

The suction gave way to petting again, and Sam’s cock went from blissfully numb to twitching with every touch. Each pet felt like electricity, coursing through his body and merging with the tendrils filling him from the inside. Then the goo at his cockhead shifted, and a small tentacle began to form and rubbed Sam’s slit.

Sam’s whole body lurched, but he only became more lodged in the goo. He gasped as the tentacle found purchase and began entering Sam’s cockslit. The small space opened up around the tentacle, which slithered mercilessly into Sam’s cock. Sam’s whole body clenched.

“Shh, relax, Sam. Just feel it. It feels good, doesn't it?”

Sam’s cock twitched and throbbed as the tendril slid deeper. He’d never felt anything so intense in his life. The inside of his cock was beyond sensitive, and the wiggling, swirling tendril caressed every inch. Flares of ecstasy licked at his insides, shocking him with pleasure, and Sam could do nothing but take it. Slowly, he felt the stimulation travel deeper, and he realized it would soon reach his prostate from a new angle. The impending stimulation seemed to finally break Sam, and he hung helplessly in the goo, unable to divert the tendril’s course. At last it reaches Sam’s prostate and pressed against it curiously.

If Sam hadn’t anticipated it, he might not have realized he was cumming. His body was so overwhelmed, so engulfed and wrapped up in endless sensation. Sam felt his cock pulse around the tendril and his nerves erupt with pleasure. The goo seemed to suck the cum right out of him.

Sam couldn’t remember even having such a strong, or long, orgasm. It seemed to spread through his every atom, then hang there for several long moments, spurred on by the goo sliding and engulfing every inch of his body. When his orgasm finally began to recede, he felt more tentacles emerging. The mass around him was churning and the Empty’s voice rang in his ear.

“There, Sam. Now, let's keep going.”

Sam moaned in exhaustion as more tentacles began sliding into his ass and throat, spreading him further. More narrow vines began slipping into his cock. He swore he could feel his stomach bulging.

Sam couldn’t move. His body was now hypersensitive, and every tiny movement shocked him with pleasure, but he could do nothing about it.

"Now then, I believe you're a Beta, correct? Like your brother? Yes, Alphas and Omegas are rare, aren't they? But you know… the recipe is all here,” The Empty mused.

Sam felt like the goo was invading his very molecules, prodding and poking him from the inside.

"Everything you need is right here, on the inside. I can make your body do all sorts of things."

As the Empty said it, Sam felt a strange sensation invade his body. He tried to calm his breathing, but nothing could dilute the sensation of being caressed inside and out by countless, morphing tentacles. His hypersensitivity reached its peak and all Sam could do was hold on as his body was pushed to the brink of unbearable pleasure. Just then, he felt a wetness begin to leak down his thighs. It was almost a relief. It made his ass incredibly receptive to the tentacles and Sam moaned in surprise.

"See? Your body is producing slick. It's opening up for me even more. Do you feel it?"

Sam's body shook. Sure enough, he felt his ass tingling with a hunger he'd never felt before. He could feel the oddly shaped tentacle more than ever as it moved through him. Then it slid down, almost completely out of his ass. His soaking wet hole stretched wide around each rivet, back and forth, until the tentacle came to a stop. Just as Sam's ass began aching to be filled again, the tentacle reentered him. Sam's whole body lurched and he shouted in ecstasy.

The Empty made a victorious sound. "Oh yes, I'll bet that feels good. Slick does amazing things to the body. Those lucky Omegas."

It was right, Sam had never felt such pleasure, especially not so soon after an orgasm. The cock like tentacle proceeded to thrust in and out of Sam, fucking him roughly. Sam swore and writhed, his breathing becoming harsh. He felt the Empty taking full advantage of Sam's distraction and began probing him without reservation. Sam felt utterly degraded, and it was bliss.

When the tentacles in Sam's cock started to bob back and forth, fucking the inside of his cock in time with the massive tentacle in his ass, Sam's body froze. Sam was hovering over a second, more powerful orgasm. He tried to buck his hips into the goo, tried to fuck himself on both sets of tentacles skewering him from all sides, but he couldn't move. Finally the tentacle in his ass began to grow in one spot, right over his prostate, and he realized he was being knotted.

The knot pushed against his insides, pressing his prostate into the tentacle sounding him from the other side, and Sam whited out. He came harder than he'd ever come in his life.

The Empty seemed satisfied that its experiment worked. Sam's cum was pouring from his stuffed cock, and the Empty absorbed it right into the goo.

"That's it Sam. I can see all of your memories, you know. Remember college? Remember that Alpha boy. The time he knotted you, a poor, innocent Beta. Remember how you loved it?”

Sam was practically sitting on the goo as it milked his orgasm out of him. It was true, the times Sam experimented with an Alpha had been some of the best sex of his life. He’d never told anyone about it. But this was even better. Sam wasn’t sure how long he was suspended in that orgasmic state, but he knew he never wanted it to end. Beta, Omega, he didn’t care what he was, so long as he had that undulating, goo knot in his body.

“Oh, there we are, Sam. That’s it.”

Sam was finally released from his orgasm, and his body trembled in relief. The hunger in his ass was satiated beyond belief. His entire body throbbed with satisfaction.

“It’s in your blood, isn’t it? Your secrets… they’re all here.”

Sam couldn’t think. It took him a long time to realize what the Empty was even talking about.

“Sam Winchester. Your blood is corrupted. Defiled. Oh, that’s lovely.”

It finally clicked. The demon blood. That’s what the Empty was looking for. Finding it didn’t cause the mass to retreat, however. Instead, it seemed to consume Sam even deeper. He was no longer excreting slick, but the knot was still pulsing against his prostate and the cock was still writhing inside of him.

Sam wasn’t sure how long it was before he started to feel another orgasm begin to build up in his core. The Empty was completely engrossed in its discovery and didn’t seem like it was doing it on purpose.

Sam tried to get it's attention, but he couldn’t make a sound. He could only attempt to calm himself, but it was useless. Every erogenous zone was being stimulated, even ones he never knew he had. He tried to curl his toes and pull his arms down, but he only made the goo absorb him further. His nipples had become incredibly sensitive. The goo prodded and stroked them, making pleasure seep down Sam’s body. Sam felt the goo hold his arms steady as it toyed with his nipples, swirling around and rubbing the centers. After several long minutes of this pleasure torture, Sam’s orgasm burst from him like fireworks. He gasped helplessly as he came into the goo for a third time. Still, the Empty paid him no mind.

Sam fell into a kind of trance while his body continued to be probed by the goo. The next orgasm was more like a compulsive jerk. Sam whined suddenly and cum leaked out of his cock. It seeped out around the tentacles and his hole throbbed.

Sam had never experienced anything like this. He was completely helpless, forced to ride the goo into orgasm after orgasm as the Empty completely ignored him.

Finally the Empty spoke to him.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying this, Sam. You see, this can be a kind of torture for some, but I knew you were different. I knew you were special. It’s all here, in your blood. I can taste it.”

Sam was hovering over another orgasm, barely able to listen to the voice in his head.

“Are you ready now, Sam? Or would you like to orgasm again? I can make you do it from in here. From the inside. I can pull it from your atoms.”

Sam was tearing up. He couldn’t respond, but the Empty could feel Sam’s cock leak precum at the question.

“Very good, Sam. Very good…”

Sam suddenly felt his body begin to tingle. It was unlike anything he’d felt so far. The mass around and inside his body wasn’t causing it. It seemed to radiate through his every nerve. Sam stopped breathing for a moment, completely overwhelmed, immobilized. It was like orgasming in slow motion. His whole body tightened. Every tentacle was caressing him slowly, undulating throughout his body. Sam nearly hyperventilated. His orgasm finally reached its crescendo and ecstasy burst from deep within him.

Sam didn’t know how long it lasted. He was lost, drowning in bliss. Nothing else existed but his body. Not a drop of cum left him, but he came harder than he ever had in his life.

When it finally began to recede, Sam felt like he was shrinking. He realized the tentacles were pulling out of him. It was an odd sensation, although Sam only felt it distantly. His body was vibrating through space and time, unaffected by anything. As the tentacles receded from him completely, he felt the ground rise up beneath his back. His body became empty, yet he was still full of the ringing, vibrating bliss. The goo around him swirled and retreated.

Sam could finally see his own body. The goo hadn’t left a mark. He was nude, and his chest was heaving. He felt oddly distant from himself. He dropped his head back on the ground and just lie there, listening to the ringing in his ears

Then he saw someone kneeling down in front of him. The Empty Sam smiled at him darkly. Sam could see the blackness gleaming in its familiar eyes.

“Oh Sam, you did so, so well. You truly are special.”

Sam eyed himself, unable to speak.

“Relax now. You may rest for a moment. As long as you are quiet.”

Sam nodded, seeing no issue with that. He could barely move let alone make noise.

“Good. Good,” The Empty Sam put his hands on Sam’s knees. “Now, because you were so good, I’d like to offer you something.”

Sam watched hazily as his twin neared his face.

“Because I like you, Sam, I’d like to help you. I can purge you. Clean your blood. Remove every last molecule of demonic influence. After all these years, wouldn’t that be nice? Hm? You could be normal. Human. Like your brother.”

Sam’s orgasm-flooded brain realized the Empty was saying something crucial, and his thoughts began slowly coming back to life. Sam’s brows came together, fighting through the bliss clinging to his every muscle.

“I could… purify you, Sam Winchester. No longer the freak. The boy with the demon blood.” The Empty neared Sam still, breathing over him.

Sam realized that the Empty Sam didn’t smell like anything. His breath wasn’t warm on Sam’s lips. It reminded him of how the goo tasted—like endless nothing.

“In exchange, you come back to me once in a while. Give me information. I’ll still let you and your angel go. In fact, I’ll never bother him again.”

Sam stared hard at himself, his eyes tracing every familiar and unfamiliar line mirrored on the Empty’s face. Years ago, Sam would have jumped at this chance just as readily as he had agreed to let the Empty ‘in’. But now he hesitated. He looked over his naked body, observing every scar and faded bullet wound.

“No,” Sam said.

The Empty’s smile twitched.

Sam looked up at him. “No. Not even if I didn’t have to spy for you in return.”

The Empty frowned, but Sam’s resolve was unshakable once again.

“You want to keep the mutation?”

Sam considered it. “Yeah, I do. I don’t know what version of myself I’d be without it. I don’t know that Sam. And I’m good with who I am.” Sam could see the Empty’s patience waning, but he decided to press his luck anyway. “And if you really just learned what ‘makes me special’, then you would’ve already known that.”

The Empty Sam glowered at him. It seemed to consider him deeply for a moment. Then, in the blink of an eye, the Empty dissolved into goo and melded into the void around them.

Sam looked around in surprise. He was alone. The Empty had gone.

Sam noticed a pile of folded clothes a few feet away. He got up, checked his surroundings, then dressed quickly. His small victory was already fading and he was beginning to worry. The Empty didn’t seem happy with him. Was it really going to just let himself and Castiel go?

“Sam?”

Sam spun around at the familiar voice. Castiel was approaching from the darkness. He looked disheveled, but otherwise unharmed.

“What are you doing here, how did—?”

“No time, Cas, we gotta go.” Sam hurried over to him.

As Sam reached out to grab hold of Castiel, a third figure emerged. Sam had been dreading this. The Empty Sam stalked out of the shadows. Castiel withdrew his angel blade.

“No need, Castiel,” The Empty said cooly. “Sam had already ensured your freedom. Until next time, Sam Winchester.” The Empty’s black eyes gave Sam a deep, unnerving stare, then the Empty snapped its fingers and vanished.

Sam blinked and the darkness surrounding them was gone. He and Castiel were in the bunker. Sound and light returned, temporarily blinding their senses. It was windy outside and the several lamps were lit at the library table, giving the cavernous room a cozy glow.

Castiel looked around wildly, his blade still held aloft. He rounded quickly on Sam.

“What did you do?” Castiel demanded. “What deal did you make?”

A crash sounded from the hallway and Dean ran into the library holding a shotgun.

“Sam? Cas?”

Relief swept over Sam and he couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay! Everything’s okay. The plan worked.”

“What plan?” Castiel demanded. “What did you two do?”

“Nothing!” Sam assured him, “Nothing. Death wanted to help. No deal, no trades, nothing.” He lied.

The three of them exchanged drawn out glances, then Cas and Dean slowly lowered their weapons. Dean strode over and hugged both of them in turn. Castiel was astounded by his own rescue, and even more so when Death arrived moments later.

“Everything work out?” She asked.

At last Sam told everyone what happened, albeit an extremely abridged version. He told them the Empty wanted to know what made Sam special and offered Castiel’s freedom for a look inside Sam’s head. Sam agreed, the Empty got its information, whatever it was, then it released them both.

For a moment Sam was worried Dean wasn’t buying it, but when Sam finished Dean immediately began worrying about the Empty’s interest in Sam. Dean and Castiel began speculating, but Death didn’t say a word. Her gaze was locked on Sam, and Sam had a sinking feeling that she somehow knew every intimate detail of Sam’s ‘deal’. Still, with her work done she departed, leaving the trio in peace.

It was only later that Sam revealed to Dean, and Dean alone, what the Empty thought made Sam special. Then he told him that the Empty offered to ‘purify’ him. Dean was curious about Sam’s decision to decline, but in the end he agreed it was for the best.

“Who knows what kind of repercussions that could have?” Dean said seriously. “Besides, I like you better as a freak.”

Sam stared at him. “Seriously?”

Dean nodded. “You bet. I wouldn’t exchange you for any other Sam in any other universe, even the universe where everyone gets regular hair cuts.”

Sam grinned.

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