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oshawottarchive · 11 months

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Bingo 04

Fandom - Lego Ninjago Warnings - Melting, exposed skeleton, heavy body horror Word count - 1223 Main character - Cole Prompt - Cruel and Unusual Punishment @badthingshappenbingo

A blade was raised to Cole’s neck, the holder’s mouth curved up into a grin. “Where do you think you’re going, my friend?”

The black ninja hissed, nails digging into his palms as he closed his fists. He was tempted to snarl something in response, but didn’t dare speak.

Not with a knife pressing against his throat.

His captor smiled at him. “Come on, my dear Reaper, you know where you’re supposed to be.”

The blade inched deeper into Cole’s skin, drawing a drop of blood.

He relaxed in his captor’s grip, defeated.

“Good, Reaper.” The blade was removed. “Now, you should be back off to your room.”

With a huff, Cole obeyed, head low as he turned around, walking slowly back in the direction of his cell.

He had been trapped here for who knows how long, accompanied by someone who never bothered to tell him his name, and who seemed to spend their every waking moment studying him.

He missed his home, he missed his friends - no - he missed Jay.

Jay had been the last person he had seen before he was captured by this creep.

I miss him. I wonder if he’s looking for me, if he’s even convinced that I’m alive.

Cole reached out to open the cell door, when he froze.

I need to get out of here. The thought had gone through his brain a couple of times since his capture, but it seemed much more like a reality this time.

I need to get out NOW.

“Reaper, go on.” His capture gestured towards the door, raising an eyebrow. “It’s time for you to be off to bed, now isn’t it?”

In one swift movement, Cole went to sweep his capture’s leg, putting his entire weight into the movement.

His capture had no right to be that fast.

The black ninja landed hard on his back, breath knocked out of him and lungs straining for air. Oh no.

His capture stared disapprovingly. “Now now, my friend. You should know not to attack. Well, I’ll have to admit, you’ve been smart enough not to attack until now!” He let out a laugh, one that stung Cole’s ears as hatred bubbled up in his throat.

His capture looked him right in the eyes. “Anyway, we should have a punishment for that, don’t you think so, Reaper?”

~~~

Cole was tied to a wall, limbs splayed out. He had expected something simpler, but he probably shouldn’t have.

His captor smiled at him, looking very proud of himself. “Now, my dear friend, it’s time for your punishment.” He held up what looked like a potion of some sort. “All that’s left for me to do now is this.”

Before Cole could ask what he meant, the potion was thrown at him.

Light purple smoke filled his eyes, mouth, and nose.

He began to cough. Something was bubbling up in his throat, and it burned like fire.

His skin started melting away from his frame, acting more like some sort of slime than a bodily tissue. His muscles and bones started to follow, and he began to melt out of his restraints.

His captor watched, a proud glint in his eyes. “There you go. Hopefully this will serve as a lesson about your behavior.”

Cole tried to respond, but all that came out was a garbled screech. He could feel his eyes begin to drip out of their sockets. Oh fsm, I’m actually melting. I’m fucking melting.

He let out another screech, using his now free hand to try and pull himself together.

His limb only melted into his face.

He screeched again, trying desperately to pull back what barely resembled an arm. It stretched out like a slime, partially-solid bone peeking out from under the skin.

He dripped down the wall, grouping together on the floor. He did his best to position himself into a somewhat recognizable shape.

“I’m sorry, Reaper,” his captor knelt down to look at him, “but, unlike your attempts at an attack, this is necessary.”

Cole let out a garbled hiss, which sounded more like bubbling water.

His captor laughed lightly. “Come along, you should be back in your room, now.”

~~~

Cole sat on his bed, small droplets of flesh dripping down onto the floor. He sighed, trying to keep most of his body together. He looked down at himself, frowning through the drooping flesh of his mouth. He could see parts of his spine sticking out from where his back must be.

Or at least part of it.

His bones seemed to stay mostly solid, poking out from his melting tissues, and yet they didn’t prohibit any movement.

How the fuck does this even work?

He stared at his door. He couldn’t speak properly, his movements were slow and sloppy, and he was literally falling apart.

He buried his face in the mattress. What the hell happened.

For all he knew, he was stuck like this forever.

“Cole? Cole, you in there?”

His nearly empty eyesockets (how the fuck could he even see?) widened. That was Jay’s voice.

He tried to pull himself into a humanoid shape, looking around.

“Jby?” The word was barely recognizable as a name.

“Cole!” The handle turned, and the door was opened. The blue ninja froze, eyes wide with horror. “Cole?”

He stared down at the mess of bones and flesh that was once his boyfriend. “What happened to you?”

Cole tried to speak, but the words were incomprehensible. He inched forward, trying his best to lower himself off the bed. A few vertebrae were left behind as he collected into a pile on the floor.

Jay knelt down, tears leaking down his face. He went to grab where the black ninja’s hand should have been, but stopped himself. “I’m sorry. I should’ve saved you from being kidnapped. I should have been faster.”

It’s not your fault. The words were nothing but a string of garbled noise. He sighed.

He tried to pull his arm away from the rest of him, but he didn’t even know if it was the part of him that used to be an arm. I’m not sure if that actually matters, anymore.

He raised himself slightly, coming eye to eye with Jay. He did his best to push his eyes back into place. Parts of his face were melting away, revealing his skull underneath.

Jay shuddered. “H-hey. It’s gonna be okay. Either this will wear off or Master Wu will have some sort of magic tea that can fix it. Gosh, can you even drink anymore?”

He scrunched up his face in a frown. “Well, that weird guy is already being sent to Kryptarium, so we won’t have to worry about him. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Hesitating for a moment, he scooped up a handful of flesh. “Ooookay, that might not work. Are you able to move on your own? I-I don’t know if I can carry you all by myself.”

Cole let out a garbled response, nodding the best he could. His eyes were already drooping out of their sockets again.

He pushed himself forward, using all his strength to keep himself from leaving anything behind. Jay quickly rushed to grab the stray vertebrae on the bed before following.

Jay found me, I’m going back home.

Let’s just hope we can fix me.

#Horror writing #tw melting #tw exposed bone #tw body horror #Ninjago #cole brookstone #jay walker #bruiseshipping #badthingshappenbingo

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lumi-procrastinate · 1 year

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Interlaced Fate

Chapter 1/??? | Another Helory Story (Canon) | Helian's POV

I thought I could write something canonical of the two before drawing a comic of it, so have this <3 -Lumi

Crowds were never my cup of tea, the amount of socialising I can put up with is far too limited for me to enjoy such things. Whenever it became overwhelming, I'd withdraw from the scene and give myself a well-deserved break with an exhilarating read.

Call it escapism if you want, but for me, indulging in a fictional world will always be a miracle.

Shaded by a hawthorn tree, I turn the pages heartily to reveal another slice of heaven.

The sun was shining as the wind gently caress the meadow around me; it was as if nature itself sang a serene melody with the rustling of grasses and leaves.

How could one not describe this as an ideal avocation? is what I thought at first.

A series of crackles snap from above, breaking away the peaceful ambience. Cracked branches and leaves rained upon me as I took a look upwards.

In an instant, a figure plummeted through the tree, and fell right atop of me.

Even though he barely bear any weigh, my body wouldn't move. I froze in terror of what might as well be a corpse laying on me.

After what feels like an eternity, the figure suddenly gasps for air.

He looked into my eyes for a split second before scurrying himself to get up.

It was another skeleton, his clothing was painted in a pastel mixture of yellow, green, and blue. Those colours seemingly accentuates his petite stature with a tinge of innocence and delicateness.

The tree left a few scratches on his face; a guilt-filled yet friendly smile painted there, as he offers me a hand.

"I'm really really sorry, stranger." He speaks in a higher pitch than mine, a softly spoken tenor with a somewhat melodious tone.

A warm feeling spread across my soul as soon as he held my hand, he helped me up with care and even takes his time to check if I was okay.

"Oh thank heavens, you're alright-" he sighed in relief "-but I really am sorry for making such an atrocious entrance, hope I made a somewhat memorable first impression on you though."

Concern clearly shows through his demeanor, he laughed nervously after attempting to lighten the mood.

Before I could even respond, he continues to talk again.

-"Honestly, this one is my finest first impressions yet, there's this one time I accidentally crashed into someone's party -not by falling from the sky though, I just got thrown through their house by a friend of mine and."-

It seems the tension unleashes something from him, as if he's trying to ease the situation with a lighthearted conversation.

Talkative people were always mesmerising to me, but this stranger in particular has this certain charm that I can't describe.

He's really easygoing and seems to be able to adapt to the situation rather quickly.

The topic he brought up calms me down, and his little gestures and giggles in between lighten the mood in an instant.

Perhaps I stayed quiet for a little too long though since he started concluding the conversation.

"Ah well, that was fun-" he chimed "-but I wanna explore this place for a little, so see ya stranger! It was nice meeting you!"

I couldn't manage to mutter up a response as he waved goodbye.

He left as fast as the way he fell into my life.

A little part of me wishes that I did some more in our little time together.

But for now, I could only hope that fate will allow us to meet in a different time.

[End of chapter]

Helian!Sans and Underblood belongs to @foxalone

[Next]

Alternative version: [Memory's POV]

#basically how the two meet lmao #canon #yeah #this one's canon #that's why it's multi-chaptered ;D #1st person pov #helian's pov #helory #helian x memory #helian!sans #memory!sans #writeblr #my writing #writing #writers on tumblr #this feels so cheesy sjfdlks #sorry

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gasolineghuleh · 3 years

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Brattitude

Commission for @simply-skeletons for a Daddy Dom Aether and a bratty reader!

cw: contains daddy kink, choking, and squirting.

Not SFW below, No minors!

You sigh and stretch, rolling your shoulders and looking along the stretched out dining room table, laden with breakfast foods. Platters of eggs are heaped high alongside plates of bacon and sausage, pitchers of various juices and teas and the occasional scone or biscuit. None of it draws your attention quite as much as the Ghouls, however. The chatter of your fellow Siblings manages to drown out any chance of hearing conversation from the Ghoul table, but you aren’t exactly trying to hear anything— just trying to get his attention. When his pale blue glowing eyes finally turn to you, the zap of sudden attention pierces your core like a lightning bolt. Aether inclines his head towards you gently and mouths a single instruction:

“Eat.” You frown in response, toying with the scrambled eggs on your plate before looking back at him. He’s still watching you, of course, his own piece of semi-raw bacon held tightly between his claws as he waits for you to take a bite. When you shake your head with a smirk, he returns the gesture, inclining his head towards you again. “Now,” he mouths quietly, his tail pointing firmly towards your plate. You can tell that he’s enjoying the game by the way that he’s begun holding himself, subconsciously appearing taller and more in charge than he really is.

No one has noticed your little game besides Rain, sitting directly beside Aether. His eyes move between the two of you as he smiles around his own bites of food, clearly enjoying watching your silent standoff. This only prompts you to push your plate away from yourself and turn your attention to your friends, joining in on their conversation with ease and ignoring your Ghoul for the rest of the meal. When you do finally grab a bite of something to eat, it’s a glazed and sweetened scone rather than something of actual nutritional value. It isn’t until later, when the tables are cleared and everyone is bustling about to leave for their morning activities that you feel Aether’s hand close around your bicep tightly- the points of his claws dig just lightly into your bare arm and you can already feel a thrill going up your spine.

“Being a bit of a spoiled one this morning, are we?” Aether’s warm voice curls around your senses like heated honey and incense smoke before a ritual and you feel yourself going slightly weak in the knees before you recover— you need to have your wits about you in order for this game to work, after all. It’s not one that you play often with him, but one that you know he enjoys almost as much as you do. After all, he always says he’s attracted to more of a brat than a tamed pet anyway.

“Wouldn’t want you to think you have all of the control, after all.” You’re able to meet his gaze, only slightly narrowed in amusement, before your eyes slide off to the side and spot Rain standing slightly behind him, still clutching his morning protein shake— not doubt full of the nutrients he’ll be needing for the strenuous rhythm practice with Mountain he’ll be heading off to shortly. “Good morning, Rain. How are you?” The Ghoul raises an eyebrow when you address him, inclining his head towards you in a silent greeting.

“Better than you’re going to be by the end of it,” he quips with a grin, finding the straw with his lips quickly and giving Aether a nod. With a loud slurp from the shake he wanders off, tail swishing happily.

“You’ve given him enough to be pleased about all day. I hope you’re happy.” Aether’s hand tightens dangerously on your arm once more before he lets go, folding his arms as he watches his musical partner sashay through the large doors and into the Abbey proper. “He loves when one of our pets misbehaves. Just makes him brag about his own.” Rain disappears around the corner of the large door to the meeting hall in the direction of the soundproof music rooms and you hold back a snort of laughter, turning your attention back to your own Ghoul.

“Oh? In that case, yes, I’m very happy.” Your friend calls your name to get your attention, waving you over to them and you nod, beginning to walk away from Aether. Already you can hear his growl of annoyance deep in his chest— it’s been ages since you’ve been bratty with him, and you can tell that the punishment (or perhaps reward) would be worth it… and a long time coming.

“Hey! I’m not done with you, princess,” Aether says, a warning clear in his voice. Despite your better judgement, you persevere with your plan. You can practically feel the tightly controlled scolding simmering below the surface as he grinds the heel of his foot into the carefully waxed stone floor of the dining hall. “Sister-”

“Turns out I am, though! Catch you later, Aeth.” You give him a small wave and blow him a kiss, practically skipping away to join your friends and leave the dining hall. It’s a beautiful day outside and you all have made plans to spend most of it in the orchard, doing absolutely nothing.

It’s one of the few days a month where the Siblings in the Abbey are given free reign to do with their time as they please— no lessons, mass, or scheduled events. As you and your small group of friends find a place on the grass to lay down and relax you can hear the shouts of other Siblings running past, playing games or having spirited discussions. Still, your ear is cocked for any sign of Aether or one of his bandmates keeping an eye on you. You know that at least Rain and Mountain will be mostly preoccupied, but Dew has a penchant for chasing his own pets throughout the Abbey gardens on down days. He and Aether often chat about how they enjoy the “prey and predator” feeling that comes with the territory.

“You know that won’t end well, right?” your friend asks with a groan as she lays down in the grass beside you. Jolted out of your thoughts of being chased by Aether through the surrounding woods, you snap your focus back to your friends. You shrug as best as you can and tuck your arms under your head, content to watch the clouds roll by in puffy formations as you try to shake off the sudden urge to run that’s coursing through your legs like lightning.

“I know what he likes and what he doesn’t. I won’t push him too far,” you explain. One of your friends grumbles in agreement, muttering something about how he’s currently tied up with Dew. Those who have an arrangement with their Ghouls know how far to take things when asked. The sun warms your bones and it doesn’t take long before it feels like you’re practically melting into the Earth. You’re drawn from your reverie when your friend snaps her hand in front of you again, attempting to get your attention. “What? What?”

“I said, ‘he’s looking for you’. Look.” She points in a general direction, masking her gesture with a cough and using her elbow. You roll your eyes good naturedly but look anyway— sure enough, Aether is on the lawn, sitting on a large rock and watching you carefully as he balances a book on his knee. Your other friend, the one currently entangled with Dew, makes a not-so-subtle cooing noise under his breath.

“He’s watching you, isn’t he? Got his eyes on his little pet. Yeah, you got a good Ghoul in that one. Isn’t it great how they watch us sometimes?” Even though your stomach is aflutter from the sudden attention, your friend’s voice still manages to rub you the wrong way— it isn’t lascivious, it’s just some good old fashioned teasing.

“He does that even when I’m not being a brat, in all fairness.” You lift your arm and wave at him, smiling to yourself when he returns the gesture, albeit with a slightly confused expression. “He just loves me, that’s all.” The sun feels excellent on your face and you tilt back towards it, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Aether is the farthest thing from your mind as you and your friends chatter on, linking your hands together and comparing various studies and opinions on everything under the sun.

Soon enough, however, a shadow falls over the three of you. Across the lawn you hear a piercing whistle and are hardly surprised when you look up, finding that it belongs to Dew. When you look beside you to mention this to your friend he’s already gone, sprinting to join his own Ghoul— no doubt eagerly answering the summons that you’ve chosen to ignore for the day. You roll your eyes and look up to what’s causing the shadow, only barely blinking when you notice that it’s Aether.

“You want something for lunch, my princess?” he asks, holding out a small brown bag, no doubt packed with your favourite foods. When you decide to be a brat, he always attempts to sway you back under his thumb with your favourite snacks or books, and it almost always works. The temptation is overwhelming, and you can smell the food already— roast beef, potato chips, and a Twinkie. Your stomach clenches in a small display of hunger, but you screw up your mouth as if you’re thinking about it.

“Oh, here we go,” your friend chirps from beside you. She rolls onto her back deftly and gets up, leaving quicker than you thought was possible. Alone with Aether, you laugh and sit up, patting the grass beside you.

“Perhaps. Sit with me?” Aether nods and sits beside you, opening the paper bag and drawing out the sandwich that you knew lurked inside. You swallow hard, looking at it for a moment until he hands it over to you.

“Are you going to be a good girl for your daddy and eat some proper food, unlike this morning?” Aether inclines his head towards you and holds the sandwich out until you take it greedily, unwrapping it and taking a large bite. Instantly his hand flips and grabs your wrist tightly, squeezing until you look at him, eyes wide. “Slow down. I don’t want you getting sick. Okay?” When you don’t answer instantly, he jerks your hand slightly until you nod, resuming your chewing. “Good girl.”

“I try,” you mumble around the mouthful of sandwich. He smiles and shakes his head, laughing a little as he pats your knee with a large hand.

“I figured as much.” Aether watches you for a moment as you chew in silence before reaching into the bag and drawing out his own sandwich, a partially cooked slab of steak on ciabatta. “Boss made bread again. All of us are having steak sandwiches, courtesy of Cirrus,” he says in answer to your raised eyebrow.

“Is it any good? The bread, I mean.” You swallow an overly large bite and cough a little, noticing with a frown when Aether does nothing to help you through the almost-not-quite-a-choke. He merely waits for you to finish as he chews patiently before answering with a dry smile.

“Hubris. And yes, it is. He has talent.” You roll your eyes at him in a wide circle and toss the last bite of the crust of your sandwich in a far arc into the woods before digging in the bag for the Twinkie that you know is hidden at the bottom. “You still aren’t eating your crusts?” Aether asks in a disapproving tone.

“You know I don’t like them. They’re yucky.” Twinkie retrieved, you pull it out and open the wrapper quickly, poking your tongue out at Aether as you settle back down to eat your treat. “Crusts have no nutritional value, you know.”

“‘Yucky’? It’s bread.” Aether tosses the rest of his own sandwich into his mouth and claps his hands to his thighs. “Right. Lunch break is over. Be in my room at 8, dressed for sleep. Don’t be late.” Before you can open your mouth to respond he’s already unfolded himself from the grass, dusted off his smart black slacks and left.

Your friends eventually migrate back to your area, one of them looking slightly disheveled, and you manage to evade their constant questions about what exactly happened over lunch. Being teased for being a Ghoul pet isn’t exactly a new occurrence, but the attention from Aether in public certainly is— and you’re warming up to it. When you mention this to your friends, one of them perks up a little bit.

“Dew loves it when I brat around in public. But you know what he loves even more?” He leans closer, winking at you when you shy away, suddenly embarrassed at the topic. “When I do it in private. When he can scold me. Trust me, do that to Aether tonight when he asked you to show up for bed. It’ll drive him wild.”

“I mean… You seem to know best, I suppose.” You pause, thinking for a moment before asking the question on the tip of your tongue. “How could I do that?”

“Oh, easy!” your other friend suddenly supplies, flushing when your attention shifts to her. Her eyes focus on the sunset in the distance as she talks, firmly fixing her gaze away from you. “Maybe you just show up… Not quite ready. Maybe one thing is slightly off. With how he’s been acting and how disobedient you’ve been today, maybe it’ll just send him over the edge.” You sit up and stretch before rising to your feet, giving it some thought before you respond.

“I think I can manage that.” With that, you toss your friends a wink and flounce back to the Abbey, a spring in your step as a plan forms in your mind’s eye.

Later, at half past 8 in the evening, you knock loudly on Aether’s door before letting yourself in. The Ghoul has clearly been waiting for you impatiently, as evidenced by his posture on the edge of his bed and the drumming of his claws against the wooden posts holding up the mattress. Aether stands up as soon as you fling his door open, kicking it shut quickly behind you with a hiss.

“I instructed you to be at 8! Sharp!” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, scanning your outfit before frowning. “And you’re wearing… your habit still? I said come dressed for bed. Sathanas, do you just like to disobey me?”

“Maybe I do,” you offer, your eyes meeting his and not deviating. You watch as his pupils dilate in quick and sudden arousal, his chest widening as his breathing deepens. The tip of his tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip and before you know it, his hand is clasped to the back of your neck. Aether’s claws dig briefly into the soft skin at the sides of your neck and you gasp, already bending under the pressure he’s exerting as you fall to your knees.

“Then maybe I like forcing obedience. Did you ever consider that, Sister, hm?” Aether says, his voice becoming a low hiss in your ear as he crouches in front of you, watching as your face gets closer and closer to the ground. Just before your nose hits the carpet he lets go of you roughly, turning and stalking back to his bed before snapping his fingers sharply. “Crawl to daddy, Sister. Show me how sorry you are for disobeying me in front of all of those people today.”

When you look up at him, crawling forward on your hands and knees, you can’t help the thought that he surely does make a pretty sight when he’s seated above you. His eyes are glowing in a mixture of arousal, arrogance and annoyance as he beckons to you with two fingers, pointing at the ground in front of him. You slide your hands reverently up his legs to his knees before continuing along his thighs, pausing when you reach the upper portion of the taut muscles. He just nods, motioning for you to continue before reaching up and tearing off your hair covering, tossing it into a far corner of the room.

“Such a pious little Sister, aren’t you? On your knees for a leader of the church. A true servant.” Aether’s tone is mocking and condescending, but you don’t have the time to be embarrassed at the hot spike of lust that spears through your cunt. His hands pull down his fly and then his cock is in front of you, held at base by his fist and enticingly close to your lips. “Go on then. Serve.”

As soon as you bring your lips to the head of his cock he thrusts forward, his free hand coming to the back of your head and entangling in your hair, now free of the head covering. He groans as you slip yourself lower, dipping your tongue down to caress over his knuckles, making sure to show him how in control you are of yourself. When the head of his cock bumps your soft palate you cough slightly, using the moment to readjust yourself on your knees. His hand grips tighter in your hair, dragging you up along his shaft until he pulls you off of him, gasping and already drooling.

“I love you best like this, you know, princess. Supple and pliant. You’re so willing to just… finally- do everything I say. Isn’t that right?” You nod with difficulty when his fingers tighten in your hair almost painfully as his other hand runs the head of his cock along your lips. Aether hisses inward when your tongue flicks out to greet it, sliding himself past your lips once more and dragging you down until your nose bumps against his pelvis.

You moan around him, shifting on the floor as you feel the nylon of your stockings beginning to stick to you even more with every thrust of his hips. When you gasp inward, choking on his cock until tears roll out of your eyes, he presses his advantage and moves his hands to either side of your face. Aether waits until you make eye contact with him and nods subtly, pressing you down into his lap and holding you there momentarily before letting you up once more as he coos down at you.

“That’s a good girl, princess. You’re being such a good girl for daddy finally, aren’t you?” Aether’s thumb strokes along your cheek as he manipulates you, dragging you along his shaft slowly. His eyes never leave your lips, watching as his cock disappears into your mouth over and over. Finally he lets you up for air, sitting further back on the bed and patting his lap firmly. “I think you’ve deserved a bit of a reward, don’t you?”

“Only if daddy thinks I have,” you respond with ease, rising from your knees and settling on his lap to face away from him, just how he likes it.. He presses his palm to your stomach, tucking you against his chest as he raises your leg and plants it firmly on the bed beside you. You manage to keep it there as his hand trails along your body, rubbing your leg lovingly until he finally finds the wet patch at the apex of your thighs, dampened with your slick and no doubt evident to his searching fingers.

“Oh, my. What do we have here, princess? Are you all wound up just from servicing daddy?” You manage to nod and tuck your head against his shoulder, knowing exactly what he plans to do next— the sight of it always leaves you weak in the stomach and clenching for more. Sure enough, you can feel the grab of his claw as it snags in the nylon of your stocking, and the tugging only intensifies as he sheers through the fabric. Aether growls low in his throat when he feels your lack of panties, already moving his fist back towards his cock to direct it to your entrance. “Just couldn’t wait any more, could you?”

“Been thinking about this all day,” you sigh, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and closing your eyes as you lean against him. In no time, his cock has already found its way inside of you and he presses you down hard into his lap, grinding your ass against his hips as he seats himself to the hilt. “Fuck, that feels so nice, Aeth.” He nods and groans in agreement, kissing the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there.

Both of you moan in tandem as he shifts his hips, rocking upward into you at the same moment that the pad of his index finger finds your clit. He manages to keep up a decent rhythm as he helps you bounce on his lap, his finger swiping across you in a beat that you can’t quite predict— it’s enough to set off sparks of electricity across your skin every time he does it, though. Soon enough his tail begins to creep along the edges of your vision, finally settling along your other leg to wrap around your calf. When you nod your consent he lifts your leg with it gently, holding it aloft as his cock spears you, his other hand working you along his lap in a fervor as he nears his own climax.

“Aeth- Aeth, I need- All I need is-”

“I know,” he finishes for you, sealing your lips in a heated kiss as his teeth instantly score along your lower lip. The small nip of pain is enough to send you rocketing over the edge of your climax and you cum hard, stars bursting across your vision. You hear him murmuring to you, his lips grazing across yours softly as he does so, but you don’t have time to catch the words that he’s saying as you cum again, this time prompted by his sudden and concentrated assault on your clit with two fingers.

By the time you come to your senses and return from your out of body experience he’s already finished inside of you, his cock still pulsing with the last vestiges of his own orgasm. In front of you on the stone floor is a small pool of the evidence of your arousal and you flush bright red— you knew that was his goal all along, when he lifted your leg and started concentrating on your clit. Aether works your body like a well tuned guitar and you’re more than happy to let him do it as often as he’d like.

“Mm,” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your hair briefly, tail lowering your leg. “I told you to come dressed for bed… What are you going to sleep in now?” You laugh, laying your head back onto his shoulder and pressing a fond kiss to his cheek underneath the mask.

“I figured we wouldn’t be sleeping at all.”

“I can certainly make that happen,” he assents after a short pause.

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #era 4 ghouls #aether #ns/fw

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neitherlightnordark · 3 years

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Now, you have an extraordinary amount of time and the entire void at your disposal, and yet your ability to come up with an idea you actually like has been rendered null. Nothing. Rararrgh.

You are floating through the void with a notebook and a red pencil with an anatomically accurate human brain eraser on one end (you love that red pencil! It has chew marks all over it. Asriel would be so mad).

And you are squinting down at the first page of your notebook, which has holes stabbed, into it and scribble marks over scribble marks, and a huge word written and bolded in its center: FREEDOM.

The concept of freedom is so nebulous, so complex, so personal to you- how can you possibly boil down all your spiraling ideas about it into one narrative thread, one interpretation, when EVERYTHING is good and NOTHING is good? Everything you're writing down is TRASH. And it could be so. much. better.

Your name is Chara (just Chara), and you are nine years old and a Narrator and a newly official scientist who could do so much better with your ideas than you are now.

However! However, instead of screaming (which is against the rules, you remember from a distant timeline- and then you ball that memory up and throw it into the trash), you shut the notebook and float through the hypothetical to where he probably is.

He's behind a door, as usual.

"Greetings, Doctor," you say, opening it without knocking.

"HELLO, MY CHILD," the Doctor says, without turning around.

It looks like he's in Snowdin this time, in a clump of pines under the shade of a great cliff. There is a cottage nearby with an unlit lamp in its window.

"What is this place?" you ask him, closing the door behind you.

"ANOTHER HOME," he says.

You stand next to him and watch snow fall through both of you, making little piles inside your feet. It isn't cold at all. You don't know if Gaster has feet.

"Do you have feet?" you ask him.

"I HAVE, IN FACT, EXACTLY. ONE. FOOT."

"Like a snail," you say.

"THAT S RIGHT. JUST LIKE A SNAIL." Gaster's lower body ripples, as though to prove his point. Or maybe that's one way he shows emotion. In this case, what emotion would it be? Amusement? Excitement, at being able to show off a curiousity of his new body? Is it still new to him, as new as a place outside time and space would let something be? How long has it taken, to get used to a melting body?

(For you, it didn't take long at all. But maybe for dragon skeletons, or whatever he was before, it's different.)

"WHY WERE YOU LOOKING FOR ME, CHARA?" he asks, as a chilly gust picks up and begins tossing fallen snowflakes about.

"Your assignment." You draw out your notebook like a weapon. "I am... struggling with bringing it to perfection."

"IT DOES NOT NEED TO BE PERFECT. ALL THAT IS NEEDED. IS FOR YOU TO EXPRESS HOW YOU FEEL."

"Then I am having trouble expressing how I feel!" Your face twists. "I'm- I'm sorry."

"YOU SHOULD NOT. APOLOGIZE FOR SOMETHING THAT IS NOT YOUR FAULT." A hand emerges from the Doctor's form. "WILL YOU SHOW ME WHAT YOU HAVE ACCOMPLISHED?"

Your face flushes with warmth as you hand your notebook over to Gaster. He opens it to the first page and, presumably, begins scanning it (you can't really tell, since he doesn't have eyelights, or eyes).

"VERY INTERESTING," he says.

"The problem isn't my ability to come up with ideas," you add quickly, face reddening further around your blister scars. "I simply haven't come up with one I find worthwhile. And knowing we have all the time needed, conventionally speaking, doesn't mean that everyone won't grow impatient. They deserve-" You begin gesturing frantically. "They deserve something worthwhile! Something that has something for everyone! And, and-"

"DO TRY TO CALM YOURSELF," Gaster suggests, flipping the first page over to find that the second page is blank.

"Oh. Right." You lift your hands up and push down on an imaginary object, letting out your breath. "I'm... calm. Yes. My apologies, sir."

"YOU ARE FINE." Gaster hands the notebook back to you, although his hand stays close. "YOUR BELIEFS ABOUT OUR. EXPECTATIONS. ARE NOT UNFOUNDED. AND FOR THAT, I APOLOGIZE."

He folds his hand over one of yours- his very large, and yours suddenly very tiny. "THIS SHOULD NOT BE STRESSFUL FOR YOU. WE DO THIS. FOR YOU AS WELL. YOU MUST REALIZE THIS."

You look down at his hand, frowning.

Gaster hesitates, and starts to pull away- only to stick to your hand. "OH."

He attempts to push himself off with another hand, and then another, until there are several large hands floating about. "OH, GOODNESS ME. OH MY."

You hesitate, trying very hard not to smile- you must admit this is very silly, no matter how many times he does it.

"JUST A MOMENT. THIS IS QUITE. IMPROPER." Gaster's eyelights flicker on in his empty eye sockets. "OH DEAR. CHARA. HELP ME."

You finally crack a bright smile, drawing your dagger. "Alright, alright, I will."

After a while of concentrating on cutting Gaster loose (is it weird to say that slicing off a friend's goop is almost exactly like pruning vines?), you finally say, "...can you help me? I don't think... I don't think I can figure this one out myself."

"OF COURSE," Gaster says as you slice the last tendril off with a schlorp. "TEAMWORK. MAKES. THE DREAM WORK."

You stare at him for a moment, and then burst into full-on cackling, falling to the snowy ground.

"WHAT."

"Did- did you get that from-" You wheeze. "I-"

Gaster looks disconcerted. "I CAME UP WITH IT MYSELF."

This does not help you stop laughing in the slightest.

"SO," Gaster says, as the two of you drift through the void, with you tapping your pencil against your notebook. "WHAT COMES TO MIND. WHEN YOU THINK OF THE CONCEPT OF FREEDOM?"

"A..." You pause, curling into yourself. "A... human child." You glance at him. "Don't laugh."

"NO, NO. OF COURSE NOT." Gaster gestures. "WRITE IT DOWN."

"A... a human child with all the power they could ever hope for," you add after a moment, scribbling a child with hidden, shaded eyes into your book. "But... the best characters are ones with contradictions, aren't they? So... what if this power... doesn't give them freedom at all? What if it imprisons them- takes their agency away?"

"YES, YES," says Gaster, smiling. "KEEP GOING."

The two of you keep writing and thinking into the night.

#chara #gaster #safeutdr #deltarune #undertale #in which i channel my own frustrations into chara #writing is hard!!!!! writing is hard!

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knightfire · 3 years

Text

Short: Monster Snuggles

Alastor tries to give himself access to his full-demon strength without having to transform into his nightmare-creature form. It has unexpected consequences.

Poor Husk is about to be snuggled, cuddled, and thoroughly flustered by the half-transformed, amnesiac monster that Al has temporarily turned himself into

Confusion.

It was all that he knew as he opened his eyes. His surroundings were unfamiliar by sight, but they smelled reassuring.

More confusion. Pain?

His head ached, senses screeching with an overload of information as he tried to understand what had happened. His face felt like many tiny teeth were biting it.

A new smell. Potential danger?

Another being was approaching him, and he struck with strength that was not his own. It went surging through the floorboards to burst up around the newcomer, seizing the other being in a tight grasp. The other gave a squawk of alarm, its many limbs thrashing as it perceived its peril too late to escape.

He pulled, drawing the extensions of his will closer, and tugging his prisoner along for the ride. The furry cat-thing had wings, and a loud, angry mouth. Amusing. Was this a rival? Some opportunistic would-be predator, attempting to attack him while his face was full of stinging pain and his mind out of sorts?

"Alastor, you fuck! Put me down right now! Goddamn it, you're bleeding! Is that glass? What the fuck did you do? Is that the... Dammit Al, you said the power channeling potion wasn’t ready yet and you went ahead anyway?!”

Yes, the cat-thing was very loud. More importantly, he now realized that it smelled... familiar?

"SHIT!" the prisoner yelped as it was lifted up into the air.

Taking a whiff of the struggling creature up close confirmed the suspicion. Yes, it was familiar. Important, even. This was his. The smell, something between whiskey and old tobacco, was known; even reassuring.

The smaller being began to mutter to itself, reaching to carefully pluck the painful things wounding his face free. Relief flooded his senses, and he licked the little creature in gratitude. His gesture was poorly received, however. The angry sputtering was delightfully ridiculous.

He pulled the cursing, wide-eyed being close, burying his nose in the hollow of its throat and inhaling deeply. The way that the smaller creature's adams apple bobbed nervously against the side of his face was amusing, and he chuckled to himself at the sensation as he took the cat-thing into his long-fingered hands. The shadowy extensions of his will vanished as soon as he had his prize held fast. His captive spoke again.

"Y-Yeah, enjoy it while you can, asshole. I'm gonna tear you a new one soon as you remember who ya are!" It was bluster, nonsense noise that he could safely ignore.

He paused as he caught the edge of his own scent on the other. Intrigued, he let his nose trail along the neck, collarbone and shoulders, tracing the path his grasp had taken in some previous moment. He couldn't recall caressing the cat-thing with his claws, but he clearly had done so. The scent didn't lie.

What was this smaller creature to him? A pet? Something else? Yes, something else, he decided, rolling the side of his head against the cat-thing's chest. He ignored the complaint about the smear of blood he left behind.

The little creature’s fur was wonderfully plush over the sturdy-feeling skeleton underneath. He dragged his head down past the sternum, and noted the gentle, soft give of its stomach compared to the firm press of the ribcage. A new and thrilling discovery of contrasts, and it was HIS! Delightful!

His cat-thing was struggling again now, and he noted the scarlet spread of the upraised wings. A long whipcord of a tail, ending in similar feathers, swept steadily back and forth in warning. Oh, this intriguing little darling thing was upset with him. Had he been too rough with it? Was it too delicate for his enthralled exploration?

He loosened his grip, allowing the little thing to struggle free of his grasp with those little pinprick claws.

"Fuck's sakes, Alastor. turning yourself into the world's cuddliest goddamned berserker is probably the least of the ways this thing could have gone wrong," the cat-thing lectured, crawling carefully out of his grasp to flutter to his shoulder, where it perched like a lovely little surly bird.

“You don't just leap before you look, you load your ass into a goddamned cannon and launch yourself!" It settled down next to his head, carefully preening itself before turning its attention back to him again.

"You're a goddamned mess, you know that? Soon as this shit wears off, I'm gonna give you a piece of my mind bigger than I can even fucking spare."

The small creature leaned in to stare directly into his eye, face serious as it complained. "Next time you think about testing anything on yourself, I'm going to give it to you, and how! You hear me, Alastor?"

Husk cursed as Alastor's monstrous form turned, curling in on itself. The cavernous not-quite-eyes in its misshapen face blinked closed with a lethargic sigh. Well, if the dumbass was going to sleep this thing off, even better.

Alastor and his damned notions. At least if he was asleep, he couldn't get up to any other stupid bullshit. The massive, half-transformed demon beneath him abruptly shifted, grabbing him and pulling him to Alastor's chest like a favorite plush toy.

"Son of a BITCH!" Husk yowled in frustration as he was snuggled.

#radiohusk #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #Alastor the magical mad scientist #short ficlet #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk

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ask-the-riders · 3 years

Text

Mother’s Day for Conquest

I know I’m super late with this, but eh. I wanted to write something for Mother’s Day that was centered around Connie, so ye XP

There’s some cuteness with Mortem, where he gives her a special gift. He tells her that he bought it all by himself, but that’s just a coverup; What Connie doesn’t know was that while she wasn’t paying attention, some of her teammates worked together to make the gift for her

You’ll also see some of the riders kinda bonding a little, and then as a bonus, Retribution’s inner Nootmare begins to show a little

"Mom?"

Conquest shifted her attention to her son, smiling tiredly, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mortem stepped closer to her, holding out a box, "I got you something." The rider tilted her head, carefully accepting the box from him, "Oh, thank you, Morty. What's this for?" Her son raised a brow bone at her and gave her a clear look of confusion, "...Did you forget what day it is, Mom? It's Mother's Day." Her cheekbones flushed a soft shade of orange in vague embarrassment and her tired smile became sheepish, "Ah, yeah. I guess I did forget what day it is, whoopsy daisy." Mortem sat beside her on their sofa, lightly laying his head on her shoulder and fidgeting, "Uh huh. Hurry up and open your gift, though! It's really special!"

Able to sense his growing excitement, Connie smiled to herself again and began to carefully unwrap the gift. Once the wrapping paper was removed and placed on the floor by her feet, she popped off the lid of the decorative box and paused, her breath hitching and her sockets momentarily widening; In the box before her was a beautiful necklace, its pendant comprised of blue gemstones that were shaped to resemble an echo flower. Mortem fidgeted again, pointing at the middle of the flower, "There's a button here for you to push, too." Conquest nodded, gingerly pressing the button he'd gestured to, and a recording switched on, playing a single line in the voice of her son: "I love you, mom!"

For a moment, Conquest was at a loss for words; She really hadn't been expecting such a nice gift from anyone today. By the looks of it, this wasn't a cheap one, either. Wrapping an arm around the child, she offered him a warm smile, "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful! Thank you, Morty, I love it a lot." Mortem beamed at her, puffing up with pride, "You're welcome!" She couldn't help but laugh softly at how proud he looked, shaking her head; He was such a good kid... She really couldn't have asked for a better child.

Lightly nudging him with her shoulder, she hummed, "How in the world were you able to get this for me? It looks like it'd cost quite a bit of money." Her son mimicked her, humming and nudging her back with his own shoulder, "I saved up the money Glo gave me for doing my chores, and then I had Uncle Ret take me shopping. He even let me pick it out all by myself." Conquest's expression softened and she sighed, still smiling, "Well color me shocked. Usually you get antsy and spend your allowance pretty fast, Mister. I'm surprised you saved it up for this long." He grinned at her, "I know. I had Glo help me, though! She helped me save my money."

Connie's smile widened slightly, "Awe, well that was really nice of her! Did you tell her thank you for all the help?" Mortem nodded his head, "Uh huh!" The rider leaned closer to press a kiss to her child's forehead, lifting a hand to gently caress his skull as she pulled away, "Good, I'm really glad. You always do such a good job remembering to use your manners, you know that?" Mortem smiled again, almost looking bashful all of a sudden, "Thank you, Mom." Conquest continued to gently caress Mortem's skull for a few more seconds before she tapped his forehead, causing him to draw back a bit and giggle.

The gesture, although small and likely somewhat strange to others that'd seen it, was a habit she'd adopted, and whenever she'd done it, it was always meant to convey affection. It was light-hearted and oftentimes made Mortem laugh, but thankfully, he understood what it meant.

Setting the box down on her lap, she lifted a hand to delicately touch her scarf. Her thumb trailed over a name on the underside that'd been stitched into the fabric and she smiled again to herself. Very gingerly removing her scarf and setting it on her lap beside the box, she adjusted the collar of her dress and then proceeded to scoop up her new necklace. Mortem watched as she undid the clasp and slid both ends of the chain around her neck, and sensing his gaze on her, she offered him a sideways glance, accompanied by a tiny smile, "Do you think you could help me, Sweetheart?... I can't see where the clasp is, so that makes things a little tricky."

The child eagerly nodded, more than happy to help his mother. Turning slightly, she paid no mind as he scooted closer, his hands darting up to carefully take the ends of the chain from her, "Now Morty, just make sure not to make it too tight, ok?" He nodded again, "Ok, Mom... Should I just put the clasp thing in the first hole then?" Connie hummed softly in confirmation, "Mmhm. If that's what you wanna do, then go for it." After a moment of fumbling with the clasp, he managed to get it clipped into the first link, idly toying with the chain, "Is that ok?" Conquest made a sound in consideration, testing the tightness of the necklace before glancing back at him and offering him another warm smile, "Yep, it's perfect. Thank you for your help!"

Again, Mortem beamed, his chest puffed out with pride. Conquest sighed, feeling completely content as she pressed the button on her echo flower pendant again, listening to the recorded message from her son. Suddenly perking up, Mortem made a sound, as if remembering something, and before Connie could question him, he'd already dashed out of the room.

Entering his bedroom and carefully closing the door behind himself, he glanced around, and then crossed the room and began to rifle through one of his desk drawers. He withdrew two things; The first being a simple white envelope that contained a letter he'd written for his mom, and the second being an orange envelope that had some surprisingly elegant writing on one side. He wasn't sure what it contained, but despite his curiosity, he resisted the urge to peek. The lady that had delivered it that morning had been very polite when she asked him to be patient and wait for his mom to open it herself, so he told himself he'd listen to her and respect her wishes.

As he gathered up the envelopes, a voice softly called to him from within the shadows of the room, "Psst, Morty! Over here!" Attention immediately snapping to the patch of shadows the voice had come from, Mortem nearly dropped the envelopes, a grin stretching across his face. He trotted over to the shadows, excitedly screeching, and the upper half of Retribution's body emerged from the darkness. Pressing a finger over his teeth, he softly shushed his nephew, and the younger of the two mimicked him, repeating the motion and freezing in place. Once the easily excitable skeleton child settled down, the former prince murmured lowly, "So what'd she think of the necklace? Did she like it?"

Mortem immediately nodded, also lowering his voice, "Uh huh! It made her really happy, and she already put it on!" Ret offered Mortem a slight smile, "That's great, Buddy! I'm glad to hear it. Did she say anything about how pricey it was, or ask how you were able to get it for her?" The child nodded again, "Uh huh." "And what did you tell her?" Mortem hugged the envelopes close to his chest, "I said that I saved up my money from chores, and that you took me shopping." Retribution arched a brow bone, "You didn't say anything about how I paid for most of it?" The child shook his head, "Nope." The former prince let out a soft breath in relief, reaching out to pat his nephew's shoulder, "Good, good. Just like we discussed. Well done, Mortem."

In response to the praise, Morty smiled brightly, his cheekbones flushing a faint shade of orange. Without warning, he put the envelopes down and approached Retribution, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly. Ret's body twitched in surprise at the unexpected contact, and after he'd calmed himself, he returned the hug. Although his voice was muffled by the fabric of Ret's cloak, the former prince heard his nephew murmur, "I love you, Uncle Ret... You're the best." Retribution's expression softened and his smile became genuine as he lowly murmured back, "I love you too, Morty. You should probably get going now though, before your mom gets curious about what's taking you so long."

The child made a sound in agreement, "Ok, I will... Are you sure you can't stay longer?" Ret sighed, "I'm sure. I wish I could, but I have work to do today. If you'd like to visit me sometime though, I'm sure your mom would be more than happy to bring you." His nephew reluctantly pulled away from the hug and smiled at him again, "Ok, I'll ask her then if I can come see you soon." Ret lightly poked at Mortem's side, grinning to himself as the child squirmed and attempted to refrain from giggling, "Cool, that sounds like a plan, then. Seeya later, Kid." Mortem offered him a tiny wave, "Seeya, Uncle Ret." Retribution offered him a softer smile in return, before he sank back into the shadows and vanished completely from sight. Quickly gathering up the pair of envelopes, Mortem slipped out of his room, making his way back to the living room where his mom was waiting.

Warping out of the shadows in the hallway of his home, the former prince let out a soft breath as a realization dawned on him; For giving him her assistance, there was someone that he owed his thanks. Admitting that perhaps she'd managed to do something right for a change was doable, albeit a bit awkward for him. It was that awkwardness that he really wasn't looking forward to, but oh well.

Some things just have to be done.

Retribution began his journey toward the ex-pirate's room, trying to figure out how he would even word his appreciation in the first place. He and Abrael weren't exactly on the best of terms, and ever since she'd first arrived and been introduced as a member of the group, there'd been something about her that didn't sit well with him. He wasn't sure yet what it was, but the longer he went without knowing, the more it grew to bother him.

Arriving at his destination, he gave her closed bedroom door a few knocks, and then he stepped back, folding his arms behind his back. He could do this. He just needed to focus, and even though it'd probably make things a bit bothersome later on down the road, he would have to put his pride on the back burner. He drew in a deep breath, making an attempt to mentally and emotionally prepare for what he was about to do. The door opened, and Abrael immediately donned a look of confusion, clearly dumbfounded, "Uh... Ahoy, Ret. What are you doing here?" Retribution glanced around, looking anywhere other than directly at her, "Can I come in? Please? I would like to speak to you in private."

Abrael nodded, stepping aside to gesture into the room, "Be my guest." The former prince slipped into the room, still not looking at her, and once she was sure he was far enough away from the door that it wouldn't get caught on his cloak, she shut it behind him. Turning to face him and doing her best to ignore the impending sense of doom that'd begun to creep up on her. When he finally looked at her, it was with such intensity that she nearly flinched backward, and he furrowed his brow bones, "...Apologies for the awkward silence. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how exactly I'd like to word everything I have to say to you." The former pirate made a face, beginning to shrink under his stare, "...It's fine. Am I in trouble for something, or?..." She paused, lifting both hands in a gesture of surrender, "If this is about that missing bottle of wine, I can replace it. Just give me a little time."

All awkwardness Retribution felt melted away and he stared at her, his sockets narrowing in a mix of confusion and suspicion, "Wait, wait, wait. Missing bottle of wine? You broke into my stash? How did you even find it?" Abrael offered him an only mildly guilty grin, her shoulders tensing up, "...I'm very dedicated to things I'm really truly interested in, is all I can say. Because truth be told, I wasn't even purposely searching for it at the time." Ret groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "It doesn't matter. I'm not sure that I really want an honest answer to any of that, anyway." Abrael seemed to perk up, "So that bottle was a freebie then?" The former prince rolled his eye lights, "Yeah, sure, whatever. That's not why I’m here, though. I had other things to talk to you about."

The ex-pirate cocked her head to the side, staring at him in confusion, "...That wasn't it? What else was there?" Doing his best to swallow his pride, he glanced away from her, "Those gemstones you gave me. Topaz and Zircon, I believe. I... Wanted to thank you for allowing me to take them. The different shades of blue complimented each other very well, and the necklace turned out beautifully." Abrael blinked, silent for a moment as she processed his words; He was actually... He was thanking her for something, and there wasn't a single insult anywhere in sight. Huh.

She smiled awkwardly, giving a half shrug and absentmindedly picking at part of her sleeve, "Oh, that. Don't mention it. 'M a pirate, remember?" She allowed her accent to slip through and thicken, still grinning awkwardly, "It's in me nature t' keep loot. Thar's more where that came from too, if ye ever needs it." Hearing her speaking in the way that he found really suited her best, Retribution snorted in amusement, "Oh come on, Abrael. You were never the modest type before, so why the sudden change in attitude?" The former pirate shrugged again, her accent vanishing as quickly as it'd first arrived, "I dunno. I wasn't expecting this meeting to go down this particular path, so I think my usual eccentric persona is still in sleep mode right now."

Retribution shook his head and sighed, attempting to hide the smallest of smiles, "You know... You confuse me sometimes. As someone who typically comes across as being greedy, I didn't think you'd be so willing to trade in some of those gems. I figured I'd have to steal them from you or something." Abrael hummed, "Yeah, well... I had a good reason to cooperate this time, I guess." The former prince arched a brow bone curiously, "You mean a reason other than thinking I'd go and beat you senseless for saying no?" Her cheekbones flushed a soft shade of lemon yellow and she lowered her head, "I, uh... There was another reason too, if I'm being honest."

Ret tilted his head and hummed, "And might I ask what that reason is? I can feel your nervousness and uncertainty, so I'm unsure if I should be concerned or not right now." Abrael hesitated, and Ret's stare seemed to gain intensity again as he felt a small pulse of embarrassment come from her, "...Abrael, I have a feeling your answer isn't going to sit well with me. Now that I know you have another reason for cooperating that has nothing to do with being afraid of me, I would like you to tell me what it is. I won't promise not to get upset, but I'll try my best to stay rational and calm." The former pirate snuck a glance at him and hesitated for another moment, "...Your sister. Connie."

Retribution's stare hardened as he heard his sister's name leave Abrael's mouth, "What about Connie?" The ex-pirate nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other, "She's a good teacher, with all this magic stuff. I know I'm not always the easiest person to work with, but despite that, she's been good to me. Not once has she shown me anything that could be interpreted as rude or uncaring." Beginning to understand, Retribution made a soft sound in acknowledgment, "I've noticed. Because of that, your other reason for cooperating involves her somehow. If you want your head to stay attached to your body, I'd suggest you hurry up and spit it out already."

Abrael drew in a breath and ran her hands over her head, "I wanted to help do something nice for her. She's always good to me, she's patient with me when I start my shenanigans, and I... She's... She's quite pretty, too." The former prince continued to stare at her as he spoke, "Your other reason for cooperating was because you think my sister is pretty, and because you wanted to do something nice for her in return for how nice she is to you?" Abrael made a sound in confirmation, her yellow blush becoming just a smidge brighter, and Retribution took a deep breath, "...You've taken an interest in her. I see. I don't care what you do, as far as your relationship with her goes, but let me be perfectly clear," he paused, the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense and nearly suffocating.

The former pirate watched him with wide eyes as his cyan eye lights flickered, very briefly becoming a brilliant shade of violet, "If any harm should come to her, whether it be mental, emotional, or physical, I'll pay you a visit in the dreamscape while you sleep and make you relive your final moments as a vile, audacious, no-good pirate again and again, and again. You'll feel the pain of a broken neck and cracked skull as many times as it takes to teach you how to be a halfway decent person, and you can even quote me on that. I genuinely don't care." Abrael shrunk under his stare again and began to tremble, but before she could speak, another voice interrupted the rather tense moment, "Scarin' the new girl again, are ya?"

Ret's attention immediately refocused on his partner, who was currently loitering in the doorway, and he narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing here, Famine? I thought you were too busy to socialize today." Famine shrugged, leaning against the door frame, "Nah. 'M busy, yeah, but I know how ta make time for my teammates. I'm only here because my gut told me ya were runnin' around gettin' into trouble again." The taller of the two glanced at Abrael, registering the terrified look she wore, "And by the looks a' things, my gut was right." Retribution let out a deep sigh, the atmosphere gradually beginning to return to normal again, "Hey, I didn't physically do anything to her. She's fine, Fam. I'm still in control of myself, ok? I don't want you doubting that."

Famine arched a single brow bone, crossing his arms over his chest, "Ya sure about that, Firefly? You've been pretty tense as a' lately... How about ya go and start runnin' a bath or somethin'? I can join ya in just a minute." Ret's eye lights remained their normal shade of cyan, and at his partner's words, his cheekbones flushed a shade of cyan that matched them. When Retribution didn't move from his spot, Famine hummed again, "Hey, Small, Dark, and Lovecraftian, ya still with me?" Ret made a sound in confirmation and Famine donned a lazy smirk, "Good ta know. Now, about that bath. I want ya soakin' in the tub, five minutes from now. I got a few words for the lady, then I'll come and join ya." Deciding not to reply, Ret nodded, sheepishly glancing away from Famine and using a shortcut, teleporting out of the room.

Once he was gone, Famine's demeanor became more relaxed and he sighed, slipping into Abrael's room. Before she had the chance to panic and run, he placed a hand on her head, stuffing the other in one of his pockets. Soothing pulses of his magic began to ripple through her and she drew in a shaky breath, slowly shifting her gaze upward and looking at him. Seeing that her attention was on him now, he spoke, "...Sorry 'bout him. He's a bit touchy when it comes ta family, and he can be a little over protective of 'em. He won't do anythin' to ya though, promise." The former pirate nodded slowly, "...You're sure?" He lightly squeezed her head, "I'm positive. Don't worry about him, ok? You'll be fine."

#writing #conquest.exe #retribution.exe #morty.exe #mishap.exe #famine.exe #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #undertale #undertale au #i don't think I've posted this yet #^^"

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Text

Secrets to Save You

It’s here!! The main storyline for my Dancing and Fighting with Fire AU!

TW: Light swearing, non graphic injury description

This first chapter might be a bit boring but I promise you I have a plans

Anyways, hope you enjoy

Chapter 1. Withering Attacks

“Listen, all I’m saying is, your body is completely unnatural, I mean, who can bend like that?” Wilbur said, tipping his head to the side. It was a normal Friday so far, Techno and Wilbur were walking towards the second circle, on their way to pick up Tommy from Tubbo’s family stall.

“Maybe you’re the unnatural one,” Techno said, “Cause those tricks seem pretty natural to me, so, maybe it’s just you.”

“You’re the weird one,” Wilbur retorted, “I don’t know anyone else that can do that-”

“Just because you don’t know anyone else doesn’t mean that they aren’t out there. An old friend of mine-”

“Oh here you go again, back at it about ‘your old friends’, I’m starting to think that they are just imaginary!” Wilbur teased, Techno scoffed and shoved him lightly.

“So you’re projecting onto me now? Very classy Wilbur but I guess that’s to be expected of the Dirty Crime Boy now isn’t it-”

A thundering blare shook the ground, cutting Techno off, instinctively he reached for his sword only to remember that he left it at home. He shoved Wilbur into an alley, in a ditch attempt to protect him, whipping around to find the source of the noise. He saw smoke rising in the distance.

“That looks close to Tubbo’s stall,” Wilbur spoke from behind him, trailing off.

“Tommy,” Techno breathed. That kicked both of the boys back into action. Wilbur started running down the street, there were already some people streaking away from the smoke, screaming.

“We gotta go make sure he’s okay!”

“Wait!” Wilbur turned and saw Techno pulling at a creaky old fence gate.

“This way is much faster,” He forced the gate open, “Hope your climbing skills still hold up!” He said, pulling Wilbur into an alleyway, hoping to avoid any crowds or people in general trying to escape or see the commotion.

Racing forwards, dodging past garbage cans and distressed stray animals, Wilbur called for Techno to slow down or at least say what direction they were going but Techno was on full auto pilot.

Running through a vacant lot, making sure not to step on a pothole he was starting to come up on a stonewall blocking the exit. Techno sped up, jumping onto a dumpster then propelling himself over the wall.

He landed hard but didn’t falter, immediately scanning the area, half of the market was in shambles.

Smoldering pieces of wood clung onto houses and stalls, shattered glass and rubble littered the street, merchandise and shredded cloth lay broken on the ground. Some shops were completely destroyed, pots and pans, and artwork was strewn about.

Guards had already made it there, some were ushring people away, others were taking notes of the damage, one was walking away with a rattling sack, and one was trying to keep a hold on Tommy.

“Let me go! I have to check on him! He-”

“Tommy!” Wilbur said, apparently having made it over the wall, he rushed forwards, trying to get in between the guard and his brother. “Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, checking Tommy over for injuries, besides a nasty cut on his cheek he looked fine.

“One of the shop keepers had tried to open a portal to the nether inside their shop but something malfunctioned and it blew up, a few mobs got out but we have everything under control,” The guard stated, “But just to be safe you should get back to your homes-”

“What does this have to do with Tommy?” Wilbur asked sharply, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“This boy doesn’t have an ID so I was going to take him back to the outpost-”

“We are his guardians,” Techno cut in, chest tight, “He’s our little brother.”

“I need proof, does he have an ID?”

“It’s not with us,” Techno lied, staring at the guard, “He forgot it at home today when going to school but I can assure you he’s ours.”

“That isn’t eno-”

“Let go of my brother.” Techno didn’t back down, neither did the guard. After a few moments Wilbur cut through the silence.

“Sir, please, don’t you have something more important you could be doing? Just let us take our little brother,” He said, hopefully.

The guard pondered it for a moment before begrudgingly letting go of Tommy, “Fine but if I find him again without his ID he’s coming with me.” Then he stalked off.

Techno watched him as he went, making sure he didn’t try and grab Tommy again.

“Tommy what happened? Where is Tubbo and his family?” Wilbur asked, Tommy shifted his feet.

“So me and Tubbo were just hanging out when the wall of the shop blew in and a piece of wood hit me across the face-which doesn’t hurt ‘m fine Wilbur stop it- and Sparkles told us to hide in the back so we hid in the storage closet,” He gestured behind him at the ruined shop.

“Then we heard Sparkles shout, Tubbo started panicking and ran out, yelling about the Captain and he picked up a sword and it was so cool! He started fending off these creepy black skeletons when-” He stopped suddenly, hand starting to shake.

“Tommy?” Wilbur prompted after a minute, Tommy swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Then the skeleton slashed him across the chest and he screamed, Sparkles showed up and knocked its head off but he grabbed Tubbo and ran off, saying something about infection but, I saw the wound and- and- it looked so bad.” He broke off, shoulders hunching in. Techno felt a lump in his throat.

Wilbur wrapped his arms around him as Tommy started to shake, “It-it was bleeding a lot and-and the edge were turning black then that guard came up and asked for my ID but all I could think about was how Tubbo was wearing his favorite shirt but now it’s ruined and-”

Wilbur hushed him gently, tightening his hold. “Tubbo will be okay, don’t you worry Tommy, he’s a strong lad, he’ll be just fine,”

“But he-”

“You just told me that he took on a monster all by himself, I’m sure that he’ll heal in no time and that you guys will be playing baseball and getting up to stupid shit.”

Tommy laughed wetly, “I wanna do stupid shit with him,” Wilbur didn’t chastize him on swearing, neither did Techno. Techno placed a hand on Tommy’s head, messing with his hair absentmindedly. He hadn’t seen the monster but he already knew it was a Wither Skeleton and that Tubbo most likely had Withering. Tubbo was a strong kid but not many people survived that poison.

But he couldn’t tell Tommy that.

Not right now.

So he didn’t, he just stood there, playing with his hair until Wilbur pulled away, “I know you’re worried about Tubbo but Phil is probably worried about us, so we should head home and get that cut taken care of.”

Tommy nodded. Before leaving Wilbur walked back into the shop, grabbing Tommy’s backpack off the floor, dusting off dirt and wood chippings.

As he came back out, Techno grabbed his shoulder, “I’m going to go check on Tubbo,” He whispered, Wilbur nodded heading down the street with Tommy in tow, trying to get Tommy to tell him about school.

Techno waited till they were rounding the corner before jogging down the street, looking for a medical tent, they were too far from the actual hospital for Tubbo so they had to be close by.

He kept running until a small white tent with red hearts on the flaps came into view, outside was the Captain himself, pacing back and forth. Techno skidded to a halt next to him.

“Tommy told me what happened, how is Tubbo? Did he get withering?” Techno tried not to sound desperate, hoping that it was just a little cut and maybe Tommy had just seen things strangely during the whole fascisco.

The Captain sighed, “Three deep claw marks down his chest, he’s lost some blood and has withering.”

Techno’s heart dropped, “What about the milk remedy? That has to do something, I bet if you administer it quickly it’ll draw the poison ou-”

“It’s not just that, we are doing the milk remedy but the cuts are too deep, he probably won’t survive the shock of it all, the poison, or the infections from the gashes.” The Captain’s hands were clenched at his sides, shaking, his eyes were tired.

“It’s a shame I can’t make potions, I know how to but I don’t have the resources to get the materials, or hell even buy one myself but alchemy is a rich man's game.” His voice was bitter and brittle.

Techno frowned, he wasn’t going to give up that easily. Maybe Tubbo would beat the odds and survive it, maybe he could steal a potion? No that was too risky, potions were kept in high security places. Or he could try and get into the Nether himself- Then it hit him.

He needed to visit a certain blue bastard.

“Captain, you know how to make potions?” He asked, “And all you would need are the materials?”

The Caption nodded, “Yes, I just need some blaze rods and powder and some nether wart. I have everything else.”

“So if I could get you that then you would be able to save Tubbo?”

“Hopefully yes,” The Captain said hesitantly, “Techno what are you planning?”

“Nothing,” Techno said, “Nothing at all, I just have to talk to a friend.” He turned to leave then spun on his heels.

“By the way, we never had this conversation.” Then he started off towards the fourth ring to talk to Skeppy.

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

Title: Besyd the scarcety of bread amowngst us

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Crowley/Dean Winchester

Summary: In which Dean asks a question.

Warnings: Crowley being Extremely traumatized and kind of oblivious to that fact + SPN demons being SPN demons (i.e. remorseless bodysnatchers) + Dean being his casually misogynistic self + graphic descriptions of starvation + exhibitionism (sorta?) + sexually explicit content because this was MEANT to be straightforward smut and then Crowley happened, the prick.

Also on AO3!

“So how come you aren’t a hot chick?”

The glass stills an inch from Crowley’s pale lips. “I humbly beg your pardon?”

It’s late. The bar’s quiet. He doesn’t need Dean to repeat himself. Just a moment to decide on a response.

Well on the way to utterly shit-faced, Dean gestures vaguely, meaninglessly. “You offer people stuff. Then, ten years later, you drag ‘em to Hell. And – and they know that’s what’s gonna happen if they make a deal with you. Which means that you gotta be real fuckin’ persuasive. Which you are. Grade A Bullshit Artist and don’t I know it. But... uh, what was I gonna… yeah, wouldn’t it be easier, right, just way easier if you were a hot chick?”

Crowley can tell he’s not done, so he keeps his silver tongue behind his faintly yellowed teeth for the moment.

While Dean is usually delightful company, in his surly, macho way, this evening there’s an uncommonly obnoxious edge to everything he says. That almost certainly means his insecurities over what he’s been letting Crowley do to his arse lately are acting up.

Understandable. Still annoying.

So Crowley’s more than willing to let his favourite human dig himself a wee bit deeper before pouring boiling tar into the pit.

After quickly throwing back the last of his drink, Dean goes on: “Now, I didn’t go to some dickslurp business school. I ain’t that brand of asshole. But I’ve seen enough beer ads in my time to have an idea of how marketing works. You got something you want people to buy? Fastest way is to get a hot chick in a bikini to hold it up. Because guys have most of the money in this shitty world of ours and guys think with their dicks. I know I do. So why did you decide to possess someone who looks like a balding, middle-aged banker going through a stressful divorce? That ain’t enticing. That ain’t capturing anyone’s interest. Y’know?”

“Mm,” says Crowley, and stands up.

“Fuck’re you doing?” Dean slurs, watching him take off his tie.

“Ever heard of the Seven Ill Years, Squirrel?”

“Nope. Seriously, what’re you doing?”

Draping his overcoat over the back of his chair along with his tie, Crowley sets about taking off his jacket. “‘The Seven Ill Years’ refers to a particularly shitty time in early modern Scotland; the 1690s.”

He tugs off his costly leather shoes and places them side-by-side under his chair. “I was in my… early thirties at the time, I think. Thirty-two? Maybe thirty-one. Whatever.”

Dean is gaping now. He’s never seen Crowley without his outer layers, much less the growing slice of exposed chest as Crowley unbuttons his shirt.

“For a lot of complicated reasons relating to oceanic thermohaline circulation, solar activity, and a few ill-timed volcanos, the weather turned rotten. These days, it’s called the Little Ice Age. Us pigshit stupid peasants who lived through it didn’t know anything about all that. All we knew was that it was freezing bloody cold and the crops kept dying.”

“Dude,” Dean hisses, red-faced as Crowley sets his shirt alongside his jacket and overcoat. “Stop it! We’re going to be thrown out!”

“No. Look around. Is anyone paying attention to us? Precisely. We’re invisible to them at the moment, Squirrel. One of my little tricks.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good. But that’s still not an excuse to take your fucking pants off in public oh my God oh my God!”

They’re expensive pants and Crowley takes care to fold them before putting them down. “To cut a long story short; famine struck. And famine, it’s…”

Crowley pauses, thinking, ignoring Dean’s pathetic attempts not to gawk at his dick.

“It’s hard to describe famine to someone who hasn’t lived through one,” he says eventually. “Language – English, at least – isn’t equipped to convey what it feels like to be so hungry you’ll try to boil and eat someone else’s shoes. Then someone else’s children. Then your own children. There are no words for it. Or, if in some distant corner of our monstrous universe there are, then they’re words that would drive a human raving mad to speak them.”

Naked now but for his black socks, Crowley scratches his stubble. “Sometimes I think that’s why I got on so well in Hell.”

He sits back in his chair. Folds his legs. Taps his fingers on the side of his empty glass. “Don’t get me wrong; having someone cut open your lungs, fill them with scorpions, and sew them up again isn’t fun. But – how can I put this? – you can process it. You can grapple with it. You know why you’re suffering; because you’re in Hell, and that’s what Hell is for. It makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is going about your everyday life and watching all the people around you – the baker, the priest, the prettiest girl in the village – go about theirs while they turn into walking skeletons. And knowing they didn’t do anything to deserve it. Couldn’t have done anything to deserve it, because no crime, no matter how vile, warrants that kind of punishment.”

Dean says nothing.

After a moment, Crowley pulls himself from the dark, sucking well of memory to add, “Anyway, to answer your question; I don’t want to be a hot chick because a. I’m a man and b. hot chicks are skinny, and I will cheerfully burn this world to the ground before I endure living in a hungry body ever again.”

He glances down at his unclothed meat suit and smiles proudly, running a hand up one of its thick thighs. “Also – y’know – I personally think this long-deceased lad of mine is sexy as Hell.”

Gazing at his shoulder, Dean says roughly, “Didn’t know you had tattoos.”

“Oh. Those. Yeah. Can’t stand them. Worst decision the stupid bastard ever made.”

“I think they’re kinda cool.”

“Do you? Well, you do have incredibly bad taste so perhaps that’s not surprising. Now, are you going to get over here and put that erection to good use?”

Oh, bless him; he’s adorable when he squirms.

“Here?” Dean asks, eyes wide.

“Here.”

He says it like a challenge, for Dean can never resist one of those. Immediately, those wide eyes become narrow and determined.

The boy stands. Looms over Crowley, who casually flicks both their glasses to the floor and moves to sit on the cool wooden table. It’s clean, more or less, thanks to Dean (for once) agreeing to follow Crowley to a semi-respectable establishment.

“These hands,” Crowley murmurs, running them across Dean’s broad chest, “don’t have a single callous or scar. See? Soft as butter. Not a single day’s honest work, either of them.”

Dean swallows. Leans in to kiss him, hesitant and gentle.

Contrary to popular belief, Crowley likes gentle. Or, more accurately, Crowley likes being pampered.

He goes on: “And these legs…”

A groan escapes Dean’s lips as one presses up against his crotch.

“…these legs haven’t walked more than ten miles, collectively, since I moved in. No muscles. No blisters on the undersides of their feet. Not so much as a splinter.”

“Jesus,” Dean mumbles, drawing him in and latching onto his neck.

“And this stomach is never empty. Never even close. Never once forced to digest anything that isn’t purely, perfectly delicious. I treat my meat suits better than most people treat their family heirlooms.”

“Crowley. Fuck.”

He squeezes Dean’s arse and growls, “Because this is my reward, Dean. I won this. This softness, this safety. This nurtured, nourished flesh. I endured the seventeenth century and all humanity’s horrors. Endured my mother. Endured Hell. Built myself a reputation and a kingdom. All for this. And isn’t it wonderful? Say that it is, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean moans, even though he can’t understand a word; Crowley slipped into Gaelic a while ago.

(The things Crowley wants to tell Dean and the things Crowley wants Dean to know are categories that rarely overlap.)

Crowley takes Dean’s leaking cock in hand.

“Say I’m beautiful.”

Dean’s knees buckle as he whimpers, so Crowley wraps an arm around his narrow, underfed waist.

“Say you love me.”

Dean comes in his palm, gasping and cursing.

“Say you love me more than anyone else.”

“I’m guessing that was all Scottish dirty talk?” says Dean when he has his breath back. “You were – what? Calling me your bitch?”

Crowley smirks, licks the sweat off Dean’s jaw, and gives his backside a pat before reaching for his clothes. “None of your business. Go get me another drink, would you? Ta.”

the end

NOTES: The title is taken from a quote found in Karen Cullen’s ‘Famine in Scotland: the ‘Ill Years’ of the 1690s’ (you can find extracts via googlebooks). Yes, canonically Crowley WOULD have been about thirty when this happened. Just in case his origin story wasn’t horrific enough wheee :D

#drowley #dean winchester #crowley #supernatural #spn crowley #my fic

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lordterronus · 4 years

Text

Creatorverse Fanfic Chapter Two

Creatorverse – Self Indulgent Stories

Chapter Two – Nobody’s Home

I had no idea where exactly we were going. Somewhere called Creatorverse was the only information I had for sure. Shandy assured me that I would love it there, and that it would be a wonderful place, but as for what it actually looked like, I had no idea. Nor did I know where exactly it was.

I could tell it was far beyond the strange technicolour void of bubbles I was in before. I had gathered that it was a sort of prison, though how I had gotten myself there, or how Wib appeared still remained a mystery.

“We’re here!” Shandy said, pointing at what appeared to be a large white bubble. It was bigger than any of the previous coloured ones, and somehow slightly unnerving.

“This is Creatorverse?” I asked, my voice becoming very deep. Yet another change I had to deal with. “It’s… not what I expected.” I had imagined something more vibrant, but instead it was looking rather empty. Shandy laughed a little.

“This is just the entrance. It’s a lot better inside, even if it still a work in progress.” She said. I would have tilted my head, but since my head was currently also my body, I instead simply did my best to look confused.

“What are waiting for?!” Lorel yelled. “We have an anime duel to stop!” She raised her hand and displayed her CREATE button. I couldn’t get a good look at it before a large ‘CV’ appeared, accompanied by a glowing yellow portal in the centre of the bubble. I could tell this was our way in.

“Let’s go, before they blow the place up!” Lorel’s words were punctuated by an explosion that was, for some bizarre reason, coloured pink.

“Is that normal?”

“For here? It’s just another Tuesday.”

“Ah.” I said. “That’s concerning.” I didn’t have the time to say anything else before we were suddenly diving into the portal. I had to cover my face from the sudden shift in light. When I removed my hand, however, what I saw was incredible.

There was still a lot of blank white space, largely in the sky. But there was a large patch of land with a sunset sky and grassy fields illuminated and appearing a deep blue in colour. Strewn around the landscape were buildings of all possible shapes and sizes and around a dozen in the ‘impossible’ category. Some were floating, others appeared submerged in bubbles of water, still others had more ridiculous features, like a series of organised tornadoes instead of a fence.

It was the people that really caught my eye though. Or, my face, I guess? Whatever, they had my attention.

Many of them appeared to be humanoid for the most part, with some exceptions. I saw a surprising number of skeletons wandering around, some even looking vaguely familiar to me for some reason. There were several anthropomorphic animals around, and even some strange, shapeless figures. The variety was astounding.

Suddenly, being a walking question mark with limbs was starting to seem normal.

I didn’t have too much time to take in the scenery before we landed. Shandy gently placed me down on the ground. The scenery appeared in greater clarity to me. The shapeless figures were much clearer and I could see so much further with my cane on the ground again. But I wasn’t so much focused on the sights as I was the feeling.

“What the hell?!” My voice was suddenly as high as a kite as I exclaimed my surprise. There was an indescribable movement flowing through the entire area. It was electric and powerful, and somehow… familiar? I had the feeling of returning home after a long holiday rather than seeing a brand-new place for the first time.

“You feeling it?” Lorel crossed her arms and seemed to smile. “This world is just brimming with creative energy. We call it Motivation. Every one Creator here is worth ten of us out there, sometimes more.”

“She’s in the ‘more’ category.” Shandy grinned at Lorel, who blushed a little and smiled back.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my wife.” Shandy chuckled at Lorel’s remark. Before anyone could speak any further, however, a third voice chimed in.

“WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?!”

“Oh crap!” Lorel said. “Shandy, take the newbie and hide!”

“I’m not just going to abandon you!”

“If you hide, you’ll be safe!”

“But what about you?!”

“What is even happening?!” I interrupted with a shrill yell. “Are we under attack? Is it Wib again?!”

“Wib? You mean that Blockhead?” Lorel asked before shaking her head and dismissing the thought. “Never mind, it’s not important. What IS important is you two getting away from-!”

“Away from who?” The third voice interrupted, and Lorel shrieked. I looked towards them, preparing to transform for a fight. They felt intimidating, with a great amount of power and presence. However, they didn’t seem like an enemy in spite of that.

“H-hey Ly! We were… at the bathroom?” Shandy scratched her head nervously. Lorel placed her hand in her palm, seemingly either cringing or hiding amusement. I couldn’t tell from so low down and in my vision limited form.

“Really? So, I’m guessing that that,” The new figure gestured towards me. “Came from the toilet?”

“Hey!” I said. My voice shifted to a slightly lower pitch than I would have liked. “I take offence to that!” The figure seemed to glance at me briefly in confusion. She – I guessed from the voice and what little I could tell that she was a she – then looked back to Lorel and Shandy.

“It can talk?”

Okay, that was the last straw.

“It’s she, actually.” I said, drawing attention to myself. I took the opportunity to transform into my second stage. I had taken to calling it ‘V2’. I had no idea why, it just felt right. I felt my body growing and expanding, my legs and arms spreading out. My cane matched the growth of my body, as did my hat. My head split into a head and torso, and the limbs adjusted themselves accordingly. At my full height, I seemed to be the tallest person present. My sword seemed to slide out from my new right hand, and I grabbed it by the handle. I lifted it towards the face of the figure.

“And she can do a lot more than talk.”

There was a tension in the air as the figure seemed to glare at me for a moment. I glared back at her. I could see her much more clearly now. She appeared to be a little bulkier than the other people I had encountered. She had short black hair and glasses, set upon what appeared to be a pig’s snout. Her skin appeared to be a reddish pink, and she had the tail of a monkey visible from behind her.

What would a combination between a pig and a monkey be? Monkig? Ponkey? I liked Ponkey.

“Ly,” Shandy said, stepping between the two of us. “She’s a Creator. Lorel and I had to leave to save her from being imprisoned with a Blockhead.” She explained. The figure that was apparently named Ly glanced over with a raised eyebrow. She was still for a moment, before stepping back and letting out a laugh.

“I see! So that’s where you two were. Running off on adventures without me.” I lowered my sword. She seemed to be friendly, and Shandy and Lorel seemed no longer afraid. I guessed she was just the stern type.

“Well, she’s got spirit. I think I like her!” Ly said, seemingly examining me for a moment. “What’s your name?” She said, speaking to me directly for the first time.

“I…” I hesitated. I still wasn’t sure on my name. “It’s just Nobody, for now at least.” I answered. My sword retracted itself into my arm, and I raised a hand. Ly shook it, and I noticed that she had quite a strong grip. She released my hand, which was now a little sore, and turned to Shandy and Lorel.

“Glad you had a successful rescue mission,” Ly said, glancing at me for a moment. “But next time, maybe you could give your wife a little more warning.” I looked at all three of them, slightly confused.

“Wait, who’s married to who now?”

“We’re all married to each other!” Shandy excitedly said, pulling Lorel and Ly into a big hug. I chuckled a little at the sight. Lorel seemed slightly cross, but wasn’t objecting to the hug, whilst Ly returned it with equal, or perhaps greater enthusiasm.

“Ah, neato!” I said. Before I could any further words, however, there was a sudden and loud explosion from behind us. I quickly attempted to pull out my Create Button, but Shandy stopped me.

“Calm down,” She sighed. “That’s just Slime and Andrew.” If I had a face capable of the motion, I have no doubt that I would have shown a confused frown. As it was, my face and chest remained a question mark, though briefly switched to an exclamation mark for a second.

“Who and what now?” I said, turning towards the explosion. Standing a small distance away from us, there was a figure who appeared to be entirely pink. They were carrying a sharp sword, and overall, they exuded an aura of fear.

“Oh no, they’ve already gone full pink mode.” Lorel said. I had no idea what exactly pink mode was, but I took it to mean that they were not usually so monochromatic in appearance. A transformation of some kind must have taken place.

“This has gone on long enough, Andrew!” The pink figure raised their sword in front of them and seemed to smile menacingly. “Why do you insist on this battle? We already know how it will end…” I couldn’t tell if they were trying to threaten this Andrew person, or if they were just tired of fighting. I guessed it was some mix of the two.

After a moment, there was a spinning green tornado of energy that appeared before the pink swordsman. It dissipated, leaving a slightly disoriented looking person with brown hair and square glasses. They were dressed in a green ninja outfit, and held two katanas. Overall, they seemed much more relaxed than the pink swordsman.

“Eh.” The green figure I assumed to be Andrew said. “It’s a good way to introduce our characters.” The pink swordsman, who by process of elimination must have been the one called Slime – not what I expected with that sort of name – growled angrily at Andrew.

“Still speaking in riddles and nonsense.” They took a battle stance. “Perhaps I’ll have to remove your tongue before I can understand your words!”

“Sure, if you think you can.” Andrew seemed very relaxed about this whole affair, as though this was an everyday occurrence. I got the impression from the others that they weren’t wrong in that assumption.

“They’ve been at it all day.” Ly sighed. “I tried to stop them, but they’re determined to keep going. The number of houses we’ve had to rebuild in the past hour alone…” She looked off, seemingly trying to count. I looked over at Slime and Andrew, who both seemed to have energy radiating off of them like bursts of lightning.

“We have to do something.” I said, determined. The others looked at me curiously. I summoned my sword in my hand and gripped it tightly. “I’m still pretty new here, but I get the impression we shouldn’t really be destroying stuff in a place for Creators.” Lorel grinned at my words, whilst Shandy seemed to shrug.

“Would if I could. I’m unarmed.” She said. I was surprised, but it did make sense. Still, I made a mental note to give her a weapon at some point. I could easily make something, and she was partially responsible for saving my life.

“Lorel? Maybe try shooting some fire at them or something?” I asked. She seemed all too happy to oblige my request, flying into the air quickly and taking a vantage point between the two. She readied her flames. When the two figures charged at each other with their blades, she tossed a blast down.

Or, I assume it was meant to be a blast of fire. For some bizarre reason, she ended up throwing down a sandwich of some kind. It landed on Slime’s hair. I was almost sure I heard a bird tweeting as they looked up to the source of the blast. They grinned.

“Lorel, hi!” They sounded much different than they did when talking to Andrew. Their voice was much more friendly. If it wasn’t for the menacing expression on their pink face, I would have called it wholesome. “Wanna help me beat Andrew some more?”

“Sounds fun, but I probably should’nt-”

“Please.” Andrew said. “I could easily beat you both.” If I had a mouth, it would have flung open, but as it was, I still remained with a question mark, though it flickered between that and an exclamation point.

“Is that a challenge?” Lorel asked, seemingly intrigued. I was torn between anger and panic, as it seemed that now I would not only have failed to stop the fight, but escalated it. I could only hope that Andrew would realise their mistake-

“It is. What are you going to do about it?”

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” I screamed. Andrew seemed to hear me, but no one else reacted. They briefly glanced towards me and shrugged.

“Not my fault a good story needs some action.” They said, only confusing and frustrating me further. I looked to Lorel, who to my surprise, seemed to have coloured herself pink to match Slime.

“Oh, it is on now!” She said. Slime laughed and turned their attention back to Andrew, who seemed somehow pleased with this turn of events. I could only conclude that they had the self-preservation instincts of a goldfish, and a particularly dull goldfish at that.

“One of you please do something!” I looked to the others. Shandy and Ly looked at each other and shrugged.

“I’m still unarmed.”

“I’ve been trying all day. I’m too tired to fight any more.”

Unfortunately, it seemed that I had no choice but to act myself. Slime charged at Andrew once again, and Lorel dove down from above and followed his path. Andrew readied his blades, but before either of their opponents could reach them, they were blocked by a sword and cane.

“I hate you…” I gritted out, trying to block the two’s strong double assault. Either I was stronger thanks to all of the adrenaline running through my body, or they were holding back. Whatever it was, I was astonished that I was able to hold them off for even a few moments. “So much right now. And I don’t even know you.”

“Don’t be like that, Protagonist.” Was that some kind of nickname for me? I didn’t much care for it. Andrew grinned at me. “Trust me, this is gonna be fun.” In a flash, he had once again become a spinning green tornado of energy. I had no idea how they were doing that, but it seemed very familiar. Maybe something to do with the ninja clothes?

“They managed to force Slime back, and the sudden lack of force allowed me to spin around and strike Lorel with the side of my sword. I didn’t want to do any serious damage here, just stop the fighting. She was launched back, but not by much.

“Ah, a two on two battle!” Slime seemed eager. “Perfect for making my victory all the sweeter!” They laughed ominously. My face and chest went to an exclamation mark and I waved my arms in surprise.

“What? No! That is not what’s happening-!” I didn’t have time to finish, as I had to hastily dodge a fireball from Lorel. I summoned my Create Button to the ground and retaliated with a series of icy spikes that proceeded from the ground to follow her, but she flew up into the air. Andrew was in hot pursuit, using some admittedly impressive parkouring skills to get into the air.

“Okay, I guess that is what’s happening now.” I sighed. “I miss Wib. They were way more relaxing.” I raised my cane and barely managed to block a strike from Slime. Before I could retaliate, they launched a kick to my stomach. I dropped my cane and fell over. They grabbed my arm and proceeded to try to throw me over their body.

Thinking quickly, I summoned my Create Button onto the ground. As I impacted with the floor, I summoned forth a bolt of lightning. It stung as it travelled through to my sword, but I managed to send the bolt through the metal and blast Slime back.

“Impressive.” They said. “Before I smite you for this, what is your name?” I grew agitated. I really wished people would stop asking me that. I didn’t have anything I could say. I stood and raised my sword. My legs were a little wobbly without my cane. I supposed this would make for some good practice.

“I’m Nobody.” I said, glaring fiercely at Slime. “And I’m the one who’s going to finish this.” I didn’t mean to sound so dramatic about it, but I supposed that their excitement was rubbing off on me just a little bit. I charged forth, my sword in one hand and my Create Button in the other.

“Woo!” Shandy cheered, and I turned for a moment to see her and Ly watching from a distance. Ly had managed to get some popcorn.

Unfortunately, Slime took advantage of my distraction, hitting me with the hilt of their blade and sending me flying back.

“Ouch!” Shandy winced. “Sorry about that.” I glared at her.

“You sure you can’t do anything?!” I yelled. Ly placed a hand in front of her and stared at me with a serious expression.

“We’re staying out of this one.” She said. She grinned at me for a moment. “Besides, I wanna see what you can do!”

Was everyone here out of their minds?!

“I’m starting to regret coming here.” I wasn’t being entirely honest. This was surprisingly very fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was desperate to stop all the fighting and destruction here, I might have been enjoying myself a lot more. Hell, I might want to join in for a more organised battle. But that was for another time.

Right now, I had to live up to my words and end this.

I readied my sword and took a stance, finally preparing myself for a strike. Slime took notice, and hesitated, moving carefully around me and trying to find an opening. Finally, after what felt like hours, they charged at me.

If I had a mouth, I would have smirked.

I ducked under their initial strike, disorienting them for a moment. I summoned my Create Button right from under their legs.

“Ice prison.” I said. Slime tried to move, but I grabbed their leg, dropping my sword in the process.

“CREATE!”

I threw myself back as Slime became trapped in a block of ice, leaving only their head vulnerable. They growled a little before sighing. It seemed I had successfully managed to immobilise them. At least for the moment. I just hoped that they wouldn’t break out.

“Alright, one down.” I sighed, taking a moment to breath. “Now I just have to deal with either Lorel or Andrew, and that should be the end of it.” Much easier said than done, especially given that one could seemingly become a tornado, whilst the other could shoot fire and fly. I turned, ready to try to find them, when Andrew just appeared in front of me.

“Gah!” I let out a small shriek of surprise. Andrew appeared to be unfazed. They extended their hand, holding my cane out to me.

“You dropped this.” They said. “I’m guessing it’s important.” I reached out hesitantly, and took the cane from their hand. Their katanas were both strapped to their back, in a way that looked very impressive, if not very practical.

“Thanks,” I said. “What happened to Lorel?” Andrew grinned at me as I spoke.

“I took care of her.” They said proudly. “A little green ninja action!” They made various noises and fast motions with their arms that I couldn’t help but laugh at. I was still surprised though. The fact that they had managed to defeat Lorel was rather impressive based on what I had seen.

“Well, kinda.” They said. “In reality I just ran away until they flew into a wall. It was some great comic relief.”

“Comic relief?” I said, now concerned. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry. I got our healer before I came over here. Glad I don’t have to take down Slime again.” Andrew said, ignoring Slime growling at them and struggling in the ice. “Besides, it happened off-screen. It’ll be fine.” If I had eyebrows, I would have raised one in confusion. I was finding my face rather ill-suited to covering my emotional state clearly.

“Yeah, that was pretty tough. Maybe don’t leave me to handle your battles next time? Or just don’t destroy stuff in your epic anime showdowns.” Andrew laughed. I wasn’t sure if they were taking me seriously when I said that.

“Yeah, that’s fair. But you have to admit,” They said. “It was pretty fun! Besides, you handled yourself pretty well.”

“I agree!” I jumped back in shock, as it seemed Shandy had used her invisibility to sneak uo and surprise me after the battle. “That was pretty fun to watch!”

“How long were you standing there?!”

“Just about a minute.” She said. “I considered helping with a sneak attack, but you seemed to have things covered.”

“A bold assumption.” I said, only half-joking. “I only wish you could’ve helped earlier…” I said, before a sudden burst of inspiration came to me. I pulled out my Create Button and focused on creating a small weapon. The end result was a slingshot, which I handed to Shandy.

“Here you go. You’re armed now.” I said, jokingly. “Maybe next time it can be two on three?” Shandy smiled down at the slingshot before looking up to me with a big grin.

“I love it! Thanks Nobody!” She said. I was surprised for a moment, since it was intended as more of a joke than anything, but if she was happy, I suppose that was a fine outcome.

“Nice birthday gift.” Andrew said next to me. “I should have thought of that.”

“Huh. Happy birthday, I guess.” I said to Shandy. “Now I feel bad for complaining so much.”

“It’s fine! Like I said, I had fun watching the fight.” She replied. “In fact, you might do well on missions.”

“Missions?” I asked. I had a feeling the answer to this would be important. “What do you mean?”

“Oh boy,” Andrew said. “You’ve got a lot to learn here.”

[END]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @shandycandy278! I really wanted to get this chapter done in time for today, so I hope you like it. Just like last time, a bunch of crazy people under the delusion that my writing is somehow good wanted me to tag them, so in no particular order - @blossomtato, @onlyplatonicirl, @156lemongummies, @insane-but-smart, @lynn-does-stuff, @ava-the-lost-artist, @burned-ramen-2, @chais-chaos-corner, @i-am-the-unknown-shadow, @andrewture, @midgardiankat and lastly @creatorverse! (Why do so many people want to see my word vomit?)

#creatorverse #fanfic #writing #the ending was a bit rushed #but I think it came out okay #sorry if it's disappointing compared to the first one #by the water #ava I'll put it on ao3 sometime soon I promise

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buoyantsaturn · 3 years

Text

Bring On The Monsters (7/8)

chapter title: They Find Out The Truth, Sort Of

word count: 3,203

read on ao3

Bianca had flagged down a cab, then pried the credit card out of Nico’s hand when the driver refused to cart around three kids. He still seemed hesitant to take them all the way to Los Angeles, but Bianca had already shoved the two boys into the backseat.

For the first half of the drive, Will wouldn’t stop asking questions about the 1930s, practically bouncing in his seat and firing off questions so fast that sometimes Nico and Bianca wouldn’t even have the chance to answer - not that they were all too eager to give anything away, anyway. Ever since arriving at camp, neither of them had had much memory of their time before the Lotus. Somehow, though, despite what Nico thought was pretty obvious discomfort on their part, Will kept asking away.

Bianca finally shut him up eventually, claiming that if he didn’t stop, she was going to throw him out into the desert, and if he was lucky then they’d swing by and pick him up again on their way back to New York. Nico just hoped that their driver didn’t find anything usual about their conversation - at least not enough to alert the authorities.

They dozed off for about an hour, Nico finding himself squished between two sleeping demigods as he watched the endless desert road out the windshield. Then, sometime in between blinks, Nico fell asleep as well, and woke to the sound of conversation.

“What kind of responsible adult would I be if I let three kids wander the streets in the middle of the night?” the driver was telling them, twisted in his seat to look at them as he spoke. “Nah, I’m gonna take you to a police station or something.”

“No, don’t!” Will shouted, and Bianca reached around Nico to shove at his shoulder.

“What he means is,” Bianca started, “that’s really not necessary. My dad owns this recording studio, and he’s actually waiting for us, so it’s really fine if you just drop us off right here. Promise.”

The driver still looked skeptical. “This building right here?” He pointed out the passenger window, glancing between it and the demigods. “Alright, but I’m gonna hang out right here until you all get inside, okay? And if you have any problems, I can drive you over to the nearest police station.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Bianca said as she pushed open the car door. It was a good thing that Nico was already awake beside her, even if he hadn’t done anything to make that clear, because she simply grabbed his arm and dragged him outside with her. Will followed behind out the same door and hurried to catch up with Bianca before she could open the door to the building.

“Wait!” Will hissed.

“What?” Bianca asked, turning to face him with a hand on the door. “We can’t let that guy think there’s a problem.”

“But...what do we do when we’re inside?” Will asked. “Aren’t we going to have to pretend that we’re, you know, dead? They’re not just going to let us in otherwise!”

“I guess we’ll see what happens,” Bianca replied, and ripped the door open. She led the way in, holding tightly to Nico’s hand as she walked inside, then came to a halt in the lobby. It was practically bursting with people despite the late hour, so much so that they could barely see across the room.

Will stopped beside them and looked around, just as the two siblings were doing, though he seemed more confused than surprised. “It’s so...empty. I know it’s late and all, but I didn’t think it’d be empty.”

Nico and Bianca traded a look, just as one of the people walked straight through them.

Right, Nico thought. Ghosts.

Bianca lifted her chin and walked across the room, though some of the shades though many seemed to part for them. They acted like they had some form of respect for Nico and Bianca, though they watched Will with confusion and disdain. Nico figured it was probably a good thing that Will couldn’t see them.

Bianca stepped up to the counter and cleared her throat. “Um. Hello.”

The man behind the counter raised an eyebrow, amused. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” she answered. “We’ve recently found ourselves, um. Dead.”

“Sure you have,” the man replied with a nod. “The di Angelos, right? And...friend. Your dad’s waiting for you downstairs.” He stood, revealing an expensive black suit, and started toward one corner of the room to a set of elevator doors. “My name is Charon. Right this way, please. Can’t keep the boss waiting.”

“How did you know who we are?” Nico asked as Charon gestured for them to enter the elevator.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Charon replied, as if that was an answer. “And you’re clearly not dead.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nico saw Bianca elbowing Will in the side.

“Hold on tight!” Charon announced as the doors shut in front of them, and suddenly they found themselves knocked off their feet. Nico landed hard on the wood plank seat of a boat, Will and Bianca in single file behind him while Charon stayed on his feet in front of them. He didn’t row the boat at all, just seemed to will it forward toward a black sand beach.

Nico was distracted, studying the smooth fabric of the hooded robe that Charon’s suit had melted into, and jumped when the man spoke again. He’d turned to glance at Nico over his shoulder, though instead of a man, Nico only saw a skeleton underneath the hood. “Show me your sword, boy.”

Nico scrambled to unsheath the weapon, holding it out for Charon to take. “This one?” he asked, as if he had another sword to show off.

Charon took it from his hand, and with no hesitation at all, flung the sword into the river.

“Hey!” Nico exclaimed. “What was that for?”

Charon turned forward once more, and Nico couldn’t know for sure, but he thought the ferryman replied, “No cursed weapons beyond this point.”

Nico turned back to Will and whispered, “Did he say cursed?”

Before Will could respond, the boat shuddered to a stop, and Charon announced, “Here we are. Watch your step. We wouldn’t want anyone taking an accidental dip, now, would we?”

Nico wasn’t sure, but he thought Charon had looked past him to Will, but it was hard to tell since Charon didn’t exactly have eyes. Nico climbed out of the boat onto a dock, offered a hand to help Will out, then the two boys pulled Bianca out together.

“Which way do we go?” Bianca asked.

“The palace won’t be difficult to locate,” Charon answered as he pushed off from the dock, and the boat started back across the river.

Bianca huffed. “Well, that wasn’t very helpful.”

Will replied, “I don’t think it needed to be.” He was facing away from the other two, and when Nico turned to see what Will was looking at, his jaw dropped.

The palace was at least a mile away, but massive, made from obsidian and gold. Even from such a distance, it seemed to loom over them - them, and the millions of shades that were filing through the gates of the Underworld.

“I guess we go that way,” Nico said, and started walking.

He noticed quickly that, while he and Bianca attempted to avoid any contact with the shades, Will simply walked straight through them. Like he didn’t see them at all. His suspicion was confirmed when they approached the gates after a few minutes and Nico and Bianca froze at the sight of the three headed dog Cerberus. Will, though--

“Will!” Nico exclaimed, lunging forward and grabbing at his backpack to yank him backwards, just as Cerberus’s left head swung down to snap at him. Will landed on his butt on the cracked, dry ground after being pulled off his feet by Nico.

“What was that for?” he demanded as he got back up.

Bianca gestured up toward Cerberus’s heads. “Do you not see the giant dog?”

“Dog?” Will repeated, spinning around with his eyes the size of dinner plates as he searched for the dog. “Where’s the puppy?”

“Will,” Nico said, drawing his friend’s attention back to him. “Do you not see the ghosts?”

Will frowned. “Do...you see ghosts?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Bianca said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m going to try to distract Cerberus. Nico, try to get Will past without letting him get eaten.”

“Cerberus?” Will repeated, his eyes snapping toward the dog, though he still didn’t seem to register the monster.

“It might be the Mist,” Nico explained. “Just try to focus, Will. Concentrate on seeing through the Mist, and look at Bianca.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut for a count of three, and when they opened again, they opened wide. “Oh, that’s a big boy.”

“You can see him?” Nico asked. “Can you see the ghosts?”

It took a second for Will to tear his eyes away from Cerberus, but when he did, he flinched, then jumped to the side as a shade almost walked through him. “Where did these guys come from?”

“They were here the whole time,” Nico replied, and grabbed Will’s arm. “C’mon, we should go while Bia has Cerberus distracted.”

The boys started forward, hesitantly, watching as Bianca reached out toward Cerberus with an open palm. Cerberus placed his middle chin in her hand, and his tail started to wag. “Good boy,” Nico heard her say just before the dog’s right head licked her arm.

Once they were behind him, Nico called back for his sister. He heard her promise to come back soon, and then she was running to her brother’s side.

They still had a long walk ahead of them. They wandered through Asphodel, saw Elysium from afar, and walked along a cliffside that didn’t seem to have an end on the other side.

“What’s down there?” Nico asked, trying to peer over the edge without getting any closer - not that he would have seen anything anyway, not with the thick fog that concealed whatever laid below.

“Punishment?” Will offered.

“No, that’s on the other side of the palace,” Bianca replied. “That’s… Whatever that is, it’s worse.”

Nico moved away from the edge.

When they reached the palace doors, the pair of skeletal guards outside welcomed them in. If vacant stares and subtle shifting could be considered welcoming. The doors closed behind them with a thundering boom.

They continued straight ahead until they entered a grand throne room, where the floors were a solid black marble and the columns surrounding them were made from skulls of different animals - though, primarily, human.

Nico wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he met his father, but this certainly wasn’t it. Hades looked like any other person, only deathly pale and wearing a toga so black it seemed to suck the color out of the room around him. He looked...like Nico. He looked like the person that Nico could easily become in another twenty years or so.

Nico definitely didn’t expect his father to look happy, but that definitely had to be due to the woman perched on the arm of his throne. She was the only splash of color in the room (aside from Will) with a dress that reflected every color of the surface’s summertime, curled auburn hair, and warm skin. She looked like she didn’t belong in such a cold, dark place, and it wasn’t until Nico saw the fond look in his father’s eyes that he realized who she was.

The trio stopped a short distance from the throne, and Hades finally tore his eyes away from his wife to acknowledge them. “Children,” he greeted, and any kindness in his eyes vanished as he added, “and guest.”

“Be nice,” Persephone chided with a tap to her husband’s shoulder.

“Persephone?” Will said with confusion in his tone, and he snapped his jaw shut after realizing that he’d spoken out of turn. “Sorry! Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting-- I mean, it’s summer, so I thought-- Ow!” Bianca stomped on Will’s foot, forcing him to shut up.

“It’s alright, dear,” Persephone said kindly, and turned her gaze back to Hades. “I’m just here on a weekend trip to visit my husband while he’s in a mood.”

Hades huffed, not unlike the way Nico and Bianca tended to. “I am not--” Persephone raised an eyebrow, and Hades sighed. “Yes, dear.” Hades turned his attention back to the demigods. “Children,” he said again, this time apparently deciding to ignore Will altogether, “I believe this meeting is far overdue. I am...very happy to see you both again.”

“Again?” Bianca repeated. “You’ve seen us before?”

“Of course,” Hades answered. “I helped raise you before your mother...passed.”

“What happened?” Nico asked. “To… To our mom, to us.”

Will nudged him with his elbow and whispered, “And the bolt.”

“And Zeus’s bolt,” Nico added.

Hades took a breath. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. You are familiar with the oath between my brothers and I?” Nico nodded. “I never broke it. Both of my brothers have, and their children have suffered because of it, but I had no desire to put either of you through that pain. The oath was made shortly after you were born, Nico, so Zeus believed that I had broken it. He tried to kill you, both of you, but I was able to protect you just before he struck. Your mother...was not so lucky.”

Persephone set a comforting hand on Hades’s shoulder, and he covered it with one of his own. Nico found himself surprised by the gesture, having assumed that his step-mother would be upset hearing about her husband’s affair. Maybe seventy years had been enough time for her to get over it.

“I put you in the Lotus to protect you,” Hades continued. “He couldn’t see you there, because that place doesn’t exist in time the same way that the rest of the world does. However, recently, things have been...stirring, and I felt the need to pull you out. The timing wasn’t perfect, I know, but I had also hoped that you two would be able to clear my name after the Master Bolt disappeared.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell Zeus that you’re innocent?” Bianca asked.

Hades scoffed. “You think anyone listens to me? Of course not! And they certainly wouldn't believe me now that you’ve brought the bolt straight to me.”

Nico choked on his next breath. “We did what?”

Hades raised an eyebrow, as if surprised that they didn’t already know. “You received a gift on your journey, yes?”

Bianca slid the straps of her backpack off her shoulders and held it out toward Hades. “Ares gave this to us a few days ago.”

He nodded to the bag. “Look inside.”

She set the bag on the ground and knelt beside it as she unzipped the main pouch. Bianca reached inside and brought out a cylinder of blue electricity that absolutely radiated power. Her jaw dropped open at the sight, and she looked back to her father. “So… Ares--?”

“Please, as if he’s smart enough to plot something like that,” Hades replied. “No, it was not my nephew. I have my suspicions as to who could have--” He shook his head. “But it’s not possible. I cannot say, because even I can’t believe that it could be true.”

Nico shifted his weight uneasily.

Hades waved a hand dismissively. “Please, dear, put that thing away. You will need to take it to Olympus right away, and you can’t let anything happen to it on your journey.”

Bianca returned the bolt to her bag and stood. “But it took us so long to get here. How are we supposed to get back to Olympus before the solstice?”

“I believe your friend here will be able to direct you,” Hades said, nodding toward Will.

“Me?” Will squeaked.

“The Underworld is connected to everything, all across the world. There is even an entrance a short distance from Olympus,” Hades told them. “The same doors that Orpheus used when he attempted to steal back Eurydice will be your exit. Please, children, feel free to use those doors to visit, whenever you’d like, at least until you both learn to master shadow travel. I would...very much like to see you both again. Under less stressful circumstances.”

“Shadow travel?” Nico repeated.

Hades hummed. “It would seem that you’ve already tried it once. Perhaps someday I’ll be able to teach you to focus your energy, so that you won’t collapse immediately afterwards.”

“You mean he really did teleport?” Will exclaimed, and Hades’s gaze hardened again. Will took half a step behind Nico.

“We’ll walk you out,” Hades said as he rose from his throne, and offered a hand to Persephone to help her to her feet. “Please, follow me.”

Hades started leading them out of the throne room through a side door, and as they entered a long hallway, Will grabbed Nico’s hand and hissed, “Should we be trusting him?”

Nico frowned. “He’s my dad. He’s helping us.”

Will didn’t seem entirely happy, but he nodded. He didn’t let go of Nico’s hand.

“I understand that you don’t have your own cabin at camp, is that right?” Hades asked, glancing back at them over his shoulder. “You should know that if you ever tire of crowding in with the other campers, I have many empty rooms here. You could each have your own space. And you wouldn’t have to stay forever, even just a - what did you call it, dear? - weekend visit.” He opened another door and led them out of the palace. From there, they had a perfect view of the Fields of Punishment.

They stepped out into a garden, and the pale, skeletal flora and fauna all seemed to turn toward them. Persephone stepped to the side to tend to her garden and allow her husband a moment to say goodbye.

“Your exit is on the edge of Punishment,” Hades told them, pointing out across the palace grounds. “On the other side of Sisyphus’s hill, there is a set of stairs. Take those up to the surface.” He turned back to the demigods and set a hand on Bianca’s shoulder. “I really do hope to see you both again.” He pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head, then turned to do the same to his son.

Hades stepped back and held his hands behind his back, gazing down at them sternly. “But do not, under any circumstances, even think about bringing any more sunny Apollo spawn into my realm, unless they are already dead.”

Will squeezed Nico’s hand and moved to step behind Nico once more, but bumped into someone as he did so.

Persephone wound an arm around Will’s shoulders from behind and set her chin on top of his head. “Oh, but dear, the plants love him!” she said to her husband, and Nico watched as Will’s cheeks grew pink. “Can’t we keep him a little while longer?”

Bianca grinned. “He’s all yours!”

thanks for reading!

buy me a coffee

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #mine #my writing #bring on the monsters #unrelated to the fic but happy birthday nico

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poptod · 4 years

Text

Latibule (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahk’s time at Cambridge.

Notes: Takes place in 1942. Can be read as Male!Reader or F!Reader disguised as a male (40’s wasn’t the best time for female students.) Either way, gender neutral!

Professor Wilkins’ record collection is filled to the brim with classics, you note, filing through them for the perfect music. Rain patters outside, and the dusty library is alight with a nearby fireplace. Two student sit opposite each other, reading their own separate books and sparing glances at each other every now and then, the fire casting dancing shadows along their faces. You, on the other hand, are still looking through Wilkins’ collection, ranging from Beethoven to Glenn Miller and Ella Fitzgerald. The worn corners of the cases are soft against your calloused fingers, and at last you pull a random vinyl out, setting it on the old phonograph you’d been allowed to use for the evening. Copland comes on, an orchestral piece - not one you know, surprisingly. With that the rain outside mutes under the tones of the vinyl and the crackling of the fire, and you set out in search of books covering your study topic.

You’d come to Cambridge for exactly one reason: to study Egyptology. But, with Egyptology comes a massive range of other historical components, including Greece, Rome, and a good amount of the Middle East in general, as well as India and China. They all connect, like an old world trade, and though all that interests you is Egypt, the other subjects are ones you are required to learn. Much like your technique with the records your fingers skim along the binds of the many books, dust falling off them to coat your fingertips a duller shade. From the phonograph a woman begins to sing, and it draws you deeper into your search - through sections D to F, till you reach the author you’re looking for.

It’s a decent sized book, about as thick as your arm, and bigger than your face. This one, however, is recently used, the bindings flimsy and worn but mostly clean. When you open it, the cover slams down on the table with a crack, striking you for a moment as odd before you dig out your own notebook from your leather satchel. Pencil in hand, you take notes as the sun sets invisibly behind the amassing clouds, and the rain grows heavy with thunder striking its’ occasional beat. It isn’t long till you’re flipping the record over, and the students previously reading in front of the fire tap your shoulder, and helpfully inform you that the library is closing soon. Blearily, you nod, half hearing their words - university brings a level of exhaustion unknown to any other student or worker.

Reading over the inventions of Rome and their connection to Egypt, you don’t notice when the fire dies away, and you don’t notice the needle slipping off the record while it still spins. This specific library, in this specific wing of the building, is filled with artifacts from the various cultures you study - perhaps it’s a show of achievement, or a weak attempt to make students feel closer to their classes and studies, but all it does is unsettle you. Unopened mummies stare blankly ahead, golden skin reflecting in the dimming light, jewelry shining and various weapons hanging in their simplistic design.

There was one exhibit, however, that held a very special place in your heart purely because of how much it terrified you. Comparably it’s recently discovered, around five years ago - you can’t remember the exact date, but it’s set in the introductory plate in front if it. Glass protects it from being stolen, and dust gathers on the golden tablet; dubbed the Tablet of Ahkmenrah. Not very much is known about Ahkmenrah, not even his age, nor if Ahkmenrah is his real name, and no one can quite pinpoint the era either. If the name is correct, that places him more around the twelfth dynasty of the Middle Kingdom, but the wrappings and tomb design place him in the era of the Old Kingdom. Names aren’t everything, you know that, and you’re one of the believers that place him in the Old Kingdom, though which dynasty exactly is unknown.

The library closes as evening approaches, but you don’t notice, enraptured in the history of Rome’s invasion of Egypt. A light shines behind you, the only thing to bring you out of your reading. Turning around, you see the tablet glow - you squint your eyes, wondering if you’re hallucinating, or if there’s a play on your eyes, but no. It’s definitely glowing, humming almost, an ethereal tone so unearthly you’d never be able to recall it without hearing it again. In one final burst of light that fills the whole of the small library there’s a sudden breath in the air - fresh, and living, and a deep discomfort settles low in your stomach.

From the corner of the library you hear a moan, sounding pained and confused, which only makes you panic more. On instinct you go to the doors, your heart racing at a dangerously fast pace when you find them locked. The moaning gets louder, accompanied by a dull thudding, and the explorer in you takes hold of your nerves. There’s something there, something undiscovered, you just know it - all you need to do is step forward.

Easier said than done - a fight or flight response has decided to opt out, and what you’re left is a petrified, tense stance, which you’re fully aware is a reaction of prey. Like a deer in headlights. An especially loud thump breaks you out of the trance, which you’re half thankful for, but the noise increases and you’re left with more fear. Your steps are slow, cautious, and unbalanced - all the necessary things for a growing student. You make it to the exhibit without trouble, and somehow unsurprisingly, it’s Ahkmenrah’s casket, locked away in a glass case.

Twice you knock on the glass, gentle, and the rattling of the coffin stops. Then, two knocks, mimicking you. Your breath catches as you realize there’s something in there, some thing alive and well enough to recognize patterns, enough to recognize that you’re there without seeing you.

This is a cruel trick, you think to yourself. You’re not exactly important enough to be bullied at this school, but it’s not too far of a reach to say some math students could pull this off. All of it is too good to be true; a pathway into history, a skeleton come to life. Fumbling to your pockets you search for a paper clip, anything you could open the glass case with, and you come up empty. Once more you knock on the glass, the same pattern, and it is returned. With a calming breath, you go in search of paper clips.

There’s one on your desk, keeping some of your loose paper together, and faster than you can think you whip it off and put old skills to use. The illegality of it all doesn’t hit you, not even as your fingers trace over the gold plated sarcophagus, over the lapis design and black outlining. Twice you knock, and the thing inside responds in kind. One more shaky breath, you fiddle with the different knobs at the side, and with a click it opens.

Slowly, the door opens, and half what you expected and half what you were afraid of comes out - a man covered entirely in centuries old wrappings. His hands, fingers forced together, paw at the back of his head as he attempts to undo the restricting cloth. A million thoughts cross your mind, including that this has to be dangerous, and that he won’t understand you, and that he might kill you if your professor doesn’t.

“Uh…” you try to speak, but he’s still very clearly busy trying to unwrap himself. Hesitantly you move forward, reaching to help him, but he’s finally got it. Like a gift he pulls his mask away from his face, and what you see is nothing within the realm of what you expected.

“Oh my. You look surprisingly normal,” you blurt out, knowing full well he won’t know what you’re saying. He narrows his eyes, confused and more innocent than you expected - this boy can’t be older than 18, which is only a year younger than you. He says something in his own language, a dead one you’ve never heard before.

“Do…” you try to think of a word he knows, something he’ll recognize, when it comes to you - “You’re from Kemet… right?”

To your knowledge and your teachers’ knowledge Kemet is what they call their home, Egypt, and you pray to God he understands you. A spark shines in his eyes as he smiles, pointing at you when you say the word.

“Kemet!” He says in a joyously childish tone, grinning brightly with teeth much cleaner than what you expected. For another moment you stare at each other, him trying to decipher who you are, why you look the way you do, and what clothes you’re wearing, while you try to think of a way to tell him where he is.

“Kemet,” you say, pointing at him, “England,” you say, pointing at yourself.

“Enlan,” he replies, trying to mimic you. Giggling, you shake your head.

“England,” you say again, over pronouncing it. He nods, furrowing his brows in concentration.

“Enngland.”

Enthusiastically you nod, smiling just as bright as he is. Stuttering you take his hand, leading him to one of the cushy chairs in front of the fire place, which is now barely glowing red, the remaining embers buried in ash.

“Ahkmenrah?” You ask, gesturing to him. His mouth opens slightly - he’s confused, but he nods. He says something odd, but it ends in his name, so you assume that historians are correct; his name is Ahkmenrah.

“I,” you point to yourself, “am (Y/N).”

Once again he tries to repeat you, and it sounds like a bastardization of your name, which you quickly correct. Second time around he gets it, and the two of you smile. As he looks around the room, marveling at the number of books and the architecture, you sit staring at him, wondering how it’s possible. The golden tablet catches his eye and he stands, his hand still bandaged drags across your arm as he walks in a trance towards it. You follow close behind, gauging his reaction.

His fingers drag across the glass, leaving no imprint in their wrapped state. Again he says something to you, a breath barely coming out of him as the words are whispered.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” You murmur, glancing at the tablet still half glowing, then back to him.

“Ahasu bey,” he whispers, going over every hieroglyph carved into its surface. It doesn’t sound quite right, but you studied Arabic for a time, which as close to the Egyptian language as it gets - it sounds like an odd version of ‘mine.’ So you repeat the word, in the version of the language that you know.

“Alkhasu bi?”

He turns to you, clearly surprised. For a moment he goes quiet, contemplating his words, a frown apparent on his face. He says something, something even you can’t understand, unlike Arabic or English.

“I can’t understand,” you say, feeling more lost than ever.

He sighs, forlorn as his fingers once more trace over the glass. Throat tight you attempt to swallow, reaching for his hands - someone has to untie them, and the only person is you. At first he jumps, startled by your touch, but he soon realizes what you’re trying to do. Slowly, you unravel the ages old cloth, careful not to tear anything.

The first thing you notice is how soft his hands are, unmarred from the labor his subjects faced. Your own fingers trace along the lines of his palm, reaching the tips of his fingers, holding them and curling them into his palm. You do the same with his other hand, and he pats your hand thankfully. Nervously he looks into your eyes and says something, something you can’t understand, but you take it to be a thank you, and you smile in return.

To pass the time locked away in the library, the both of you barred from leaving (though, he’d be a suspicion, wrapped up in all that cloth), you go over textbooks filled with different items. You point at an image of the night sky, and you say ‘night,’ while he says what you assume is night in his own language. Several things happen that night - you realize a lot of titles of things in Egypt aren’t the actual titles, they’re just the general name for something. The Great Nile is really called the Aur; Nile means river in their language. Even though you know you’d never be able to share the information without being accused of either witchcraft or stupidity, you revel in his guidance, and quietly adore the sound of his voice.

When the first light of dawn strikes a shadow down the book the two of you are examining he inhales sharply, turns without a word, and stands in front of his sarcophagus. Confused you turn to him, watching as he wraps his hands once more.

He says something, something you know is important information, but you still can’t do anything about it. Something relating to night, and life, and as you help him back into his wrappings entirely confused as to why, it hits you. Struggling to put the mask back on you assist, muttering to yourself, “you only live at night, how convenient,” while wondering when anything had been less convenient. You hold his hand as long as you can, till the first rays of sunlight settle into the library, and before you can see his form you close the coffin, seal it shut, and lock him away in the glass case.

Every evening you come back, even though you really can’t afford to spend time talking to him. For the most part he understands, you point at your books and your studies and try to communicate that it’s important. As you stay under the green table lamp, pen in hand and a dozen sheets of questions out in front of you, he sits beside you, and tries to decipher your language. Sometimes he asks questions, and it’s not long at all till he begins to understand basic phrases, items, and gestures. Over Christmas Break, you only have one essay to write (granted, it is supposed to be 4,000 words long), thus allowing for a bit more time to spend with the young King.

“You call Kemet, Egypt?” He asks one day, looking at the map spread out on your unofficial desk. A typewriter sits to the side, half your essay written, lit by the glow of the fire.

“Yes. It’s here,” you say, and as always, you attempt to use simple phrasing, even if he’s learning English at an alarming rate. Pointing at the upper are in which Egypt rests his eyes follow, and he frowns.

“It’s… small,” he murmurs, his own fingers tracing the path of the Nile, barely visible on your map.

“No, not really. The world is big,” you say with a soft giggle, watching him as his eyes dart around the map - there’s more land than he can fathom.

“Lots of world,” he says with a nod, straightening his back from the bent down position. With a smile you nod, and he takes a seat. From the desk beside your own you pull another chair, and sit close to him.

“We are here,” you tell him, pointing to the little island of Great Britain.

“Also small,” he notes with a giggle.

“Yes… but powerful. Like Kemet.”

In understanding he nods, almost enthusiastically; there’s little you know about him statistics wise, such as birthdays or number of wives or children, but you know he’s curious, a fast learner, and almost… excitable. It seems, all around, an odd word to refer to an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh as, but it suits him well - when he learns he smiles a brilliant smile, and his eyes light up, crinkling at the edges in delight. His lips pout in a soft confusion when he’s still learning a topic, and they part just slightly, dimples appearing when he frowns. There’s a lot you know about him - nothing informational, but you know him, and he knows you just as well.

You’re just as joyful as he is when he learns something. The linguistics of a dead language is hard for you to understand, which is fair enough he thinks, but you get it anyway, every now and then. However, you do have an advantage, which is knowing a language similar to his own; he doesn’t have anything like that in his arsenal of learning. Still he manages to bond with you, over the knowledge of the stars, the shared mystery of the universe, and the marvel of life on Earth.

“Do… your work, is it done?” He asks, gesturing to the typewriter in the desk corner. No, it’s not - you’ve got a ways to go.

“Yes,” is what you tell him instead. Time with him is such a precious thing, so precious you’d begun debating on getting a job at Cambridge University once you graduated. At your lie he smiles, soft and barely there, and takes your hand, leading you to the fireplace.

The two red velvet chairs that sit in front of the fire have been getting slowly closer to one another during your visits, to the point where he can now hold your hand, notice each pattern in your fingertips while you both sit in separate seats. He does this exact thing - the fire heats your cheeks as he stares at your knuckles, his thumb brushing over them as he notes the smoothness of your skin. Your heart races painfully when you stare at where your hands meet, so instead you watch his face, and admire the cold glow of his eyes in the firelight.

For a while he continues doing this, examining every bit of your hand, and for some reason you let him. Even if it’s not a newfangled invention that he’s doting over it’s a sign of affection, which is only further proved when he breaks the silence to speak.

“Mrr i Twn,” he says, the words as odd on his tongue as any other - you’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to hearing a language so starkly different from your own. Despite how strange it sounds, you actually know what he’s saying, though by the expression on his face, he doesn’t think you do. Your mouth falls open, your heart thundering in your chest, and a deep need sparks within you to touch him.

“Say that again,” you breathe out, unable to break the eye contact he’s made. Hesitantly he does so, saying the words quieter and faster. Gingerly you trace your fingers across his palm, till they’re wrapped around his wrist - he holds your wrist just as firm and gentle.

“You… know, don’t you,” he mumbles, his face darkening in a strong blush.

“I know,” you say, a smile cracking across your face, warmth fluttering in your chest. “In English it’s ‘I love you.’”

“I lub you,” he tries, and again you correct him, till it comes out clear as day - “I love you.”

He tries to speak, takes a breath to do so, but nothing comes out - he stares at your intertwined hands, the way you stroke over his veins, the love that warms your touch, before looking back up at you - and only then you notice the tears glistening in his eyes. You hold him tighter and lean in.

“Are you alright?”

“I am… bad,” he answers, and it’s clear his limited vocabulary is hindering him from expressing himself. So you lean in closer yet, till your noses nearly touch.

“I adore you,” you say, your tone a melodic dream that closes his eyes in a rapt sigh.

“I don’t know what that means,” he says.

“Sorry. I love you,” you clarified with a smile, one that he copies, leaning into you till your foreheads press together.

When the giggles recede he smiles, spellbound by your closeness as he leans in closer. It only feels natural to follow, revering his love as a deep fondness settles in your stomach, admiring till the last moment comes and your lips meet. You haven’t ever kissed anyone before - which has always been a source of shame for you - and it’s what you expected; a golden glow courses through you, and there’s a strong desire to deepen the kiss. What you don’t expect, and what you could’ve never expected, was how safe it all felt, and the warm comfort that tingles at your fingertips. You move on what feels right, using your free arm to tangle your hand into his hair, tugging gently on it as you press yourself closer to him. With a weak hum he pushes nearer to you, and somehow you end up in his lap.

How, exactly, you got here escapes you for a moment, and the oddity of it all doesn’t ever occur to you, even years later. In truth, the circumstances are very strange - you happened, by chance, to stay too late in a library, then a magic tablet brought a dead Egyptian King to life, and now you’re kissing him with more fervor than you’ve felt for anything or anybody. He goes as far as to slip his hands underneath your coat, shirking it off your back and pulling at your suspenders till they fall off your shoulders. Every stroke he makes on you, skin or cloth, electrifies you and you half expect him to be leaving a glowing path where his touch strays.

While he drags his hands anywhere you’ll let him touch, over your shoulders, down your chest to settle on your hips, you keep yours in place - one on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. Desperately he searches for your touch, longs for you to make a move but your techniques of love and worship are far different. He moves consistently, constantly, moving deeper into your kiss, tugging at your hair and pulling at the buttons at your shirt - you stay in place, too enraptured in each and every touch that his method nearly sends you into overload. Yet, even as your shirt is thrown to the ground, you can’t find yourself able to part from him. Sensory overload or no, there’s nothing more heavenly than his touch, and there’s no greater show of reverence and exaltation in any life, in any time than there is that night.

You stay with him as long as you can, as long as you dare. Love is a newfangled wonder, not one you easily let go of, and you thank God and His angels that Ahkmenrah loves you dearer than anything - just as you love him.

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah #rami malek #night at the museum #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 2: Chapter 9

Harry comes home: July 2016

Word count: 2.4k

Fair warning, I know absolutely nothing about prosthetics and I've made all of this up, especially all the new tech that Tony and Peter have designed.

The song Louis and Rori write in this chapter is Turn The Lights Down by Cavalcade

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

A week before Harry was expected home, Louis was still staying with them and he accompanied Aurora as she stepped into her fathers’ workshop.

“JARVIS said you needed me,” she said when they stepped through the glass door.

“We’re ready for testing,” Peter announced excitedly, gesturing to the prototype hand he had been helping Tony to build for the last few months.

“I haven’t met with a prosthetist yet,” Aurora pointed out. “Not sure I’m meant to be trying anything on yet.”

“No need,” Tony explained. “We just want to test out the neural connection to see if you can operate it.”

Aurora nodded in understanding, Peter having excitedly explained some of the science to her weeks ago. She hadn’t really understood most of what he’d said but she’d been able to grasp the basics. She swept her hair out of the way, allowing Tony to slip an electronic device around her left ear that looked a little like a hearing aid without the part that went in the ear itself.

“What is that thing?” Louis asked, watching on with interest.

“Normally the way the body works is that the brain sends a message down the spine to tell certain muscles to move. This device will pick up on that neural message and convert it into an electronic signal,” Tony explained, oversimplifying a process that had taken him and Peter months to design. “If we’ve got this right, that signal will be picked up by the prosthetic and move the hand.”

“So, you’re saying that Rori will be able to use the prosthetic hand just like it was connected to her and part of her body?” Louis asked, his voice laced with awe in the face of something he would have thought only possible in science fiction.

“That’s the idea,” Tony replied. “We want to avoid fusing the prosthetic to the skeleton like Bucky’s is. This way will be a lot less invasive and less painful.”

“Two things I am all for,” Aurora joked, attempting to shake off her own nerves.

“Ready?” Tony asked.

“Yep,” she said. “What do I do?”

Tony tapped away at his tablet for a brief moment, monitoring the connection between the device on her ear and the prototype hand. “Ok,” he finally said. “The transmitter is sitting correctly and it’s picking up everything. Rori, I want you to close your eyes and try to clench your left hand into a fist.”

Aurora followed her father’s instructions and the three men held their breath; the prosthetic on the table in front of her didn’t move. “Did it work?”

“Not yet,” Tony said. “It might be easier if you try to do this with both hands, just to give you something physical to focus on. Try to make a fist with both hands.”

They all watched as the fingers on her right hand curled up to form a fist, again the prosthetic remained unmoving. They continued on for another 20 minutes, trying different things to no avail.

“I don’t get it,” Peter huffed. “The device is picking up all the correct signals, but nothing’s working.”

“It’s not the device,” Tony replied. “Aurora’s spent the last 10 months not moving her left hand. Before the amputation her brain spent 6 months teaching itself not to move it because it used to cause pain. We need to train her brain to rebuild those pathways.”

Louis had been watching on in silence, not wanting to interrupt. Without a word he stood up and left the workshop. Everyone watched him go, confused by his abruptness. “I guess he’s not very patient,” Peter mumbled. “Don’t worry Aurora, we’ll work this out.”

She smiled back at him. “I know you will Pete.”

Louis returned a few minutes later, carrying the keyboard from the recording studio down the hall. “What about trying this?” he asked, placing it in front of Aurora. “You’ve been playing for over a decade. If your brain needs to remember how to use both hands, it knows how to play. You could do this with your eyes closed.”

“Louis, you’re a genius!” Tony exclaimed, smiling broadly.

“I’ve been trying to tell her that for years,” Louis joked, elbowing Aurora in the side. She laughed loudly, the tension leaving her body.

“Alright kiddo,” Tony said, turning back to his daughter. “Wanna play us something?”

She placed her right hand over the keys, the stump of her left arm resting on the table as if the ghost of her hand was also extended towards the keyboard. She took a deep shaking breath and began to play. At first it was disorientating; in her head she was playing both the left and right hand of the piece but only half of the notes were actually being played. She pushed through the discomfort, focusing on visualising her left hand dancing across the keys. She knew she’d done it when Peter let out an ecstatic whoop. She looked away from the keyboard to watch in fascination as the fingers of the prototype twitched and bent as if playing. A wide grin split across her face and tears spilt down her cheeks, her hand faltering, the song stuttering as she watched the prosthetic move.

“Holy shit,” she murmured. “You did it. Dad, you did it!”

She launched herself from her seat and into Tony arms, hugging him tightly as she cried. “I knew you would but oh my god. I’m really going to be able to play again. I’m going to get my life back. Thank you.”

xXx

By the time Harry returned to New York the following week, Aurora, Peter and Tony had conducted many more tests and work had begun on creating a wearable version of the prototype so that it would be ready when Aurora met with her prosthetists in a few weeks’ time. As a result, she had been in an excellent mood, one that was contagious, bringing smiles to the faces of all the residents in the tower. The mood was instantly apparent to Harry when he finally arrived at the tower, thanking Happy for the lift before taking the elevator up to the penthouse. Since Aurora had always enjoyed surprising Harry by arriving unexpectedly or earlier than planned, he had told her he was arriving the following day, and so he dropped his bags in the living room before going in search of her. Steve was in the kitchen when Harry arrived, they hugged briefly, and Steve welcomed him back before directing Harry downstairs to where he found Rori in the recording studio with Louis. He smiled as he watched them together. Louis was sat on the sofa playing his guitar as Aurora danced around the studio singing.

Turn the lights down We're gonna shut it out Close your eyes now We won't know tomorrow Only one night No one's gonna see you here No one's gonna hear you clear

Harry continued to watch as Louis added his own voice to Aurora’s, the sound of a piano playing out of the speakers in the ceiling, clearly something they’d recorded earlier.

I saw you walking through the street Street lights bright on your misery Stumble down falling from your feet No one understands you

Louis stopped playing when he spotted Harry watching them, a grin lighting up his face and drawing Aurora’s attention. The next line of the song died in her throat when she saw him, rushing across the room to jump into his arms. The piano track continued to play in the background as he lifted her into the air, spinning them around as he kissed her.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured against his lips. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Missed you too my love,” he replied, chuckling as she planted kisses across his cheeks, her legs wrapping around his waist so that he couldn’t set her back down on her own feet.

Over dinner that night Harry was caught up on much that he had missed while he was away and shared his own tales from set. Once the meal was over and they all migrated over to the sofas, Aurora curled up in Harry’s lap, her head resting against his shoulder as conversation swirled around them. One of his hands absently rubbed along her spine, a pint clasped in the other as he chatted away with Louis, happily looking at all his photos of baby Freddie.

xXx

In the initial weeks following the amputation back in April, Aurora’s arm had been heavily bandaged and, in a bid to regain her independence, she had chosen to go alone when she returned to her doctor for her check-up appointments. Because of this, Harry had left for France to film Dunkirk before she was ready to have the limb exposed. So, it wasn’t until he was back in New York, 3 Months after the surgery that Aurora finally had to prepare herself to show him. Thus far she had avoided anyone other than her doctors seeing the stump without its compression stocking and despite growing comfortable with the other scars she had collected, she still felt vulnerable in an entirely new way showing it. Despite feeling exposed, she knew that if she was ever going to learn to be comfortable with her new body, Harry was the first person she needed to show it to. Rationally she knew that it wasn't like he would recoil in horror or anything, but she still felt nervous as she sat down facing him on her bed the day after he came home.

“H?” she began hesitantly.

“Yeah love?” He replied, reaching out to run his hand along her thigh.

“I want to show you my arm,” she explained, her voice shaking with her nerves. “No one’s seen it yet.”

“You don’t have to if you're not ready,” Harry said, shuffling closer on the duvet. “I don’t want to push you.”

“You're not,” Rori promised. “I want you to see it. It’s probably silly of me to be nervous again. I feel like I’ve had this exact conversation with you so many times. It’s just a big step, you know?”

“I do know,” he said, “and there’s nothing wrong with being nervous. This is different to you showing me your scars, but just like I said back then; this doesn’t change how I see you.”

“I love you so much Harry. I don’t think you realise how rare you are.”

Harry blushed always shy to receive compliments and he leaned forward to kiss her instead of replying. When they pulled apart from the kiss, Aurora’s hand fell to where the compression stocking covered what was left of her forearm and she slowly peeled the edge back.

Slowly Harry’s hands fell over her fingers. “May I?” he asked softly. She nodded, swallowing against her nerves as his long fingers removed the last of the stocking from her stump, revealing the angry red incision line at the end. “See?” he asked. “Nothing to be nervous about.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, and she found only love and acceptance looking back at her. “It really doesn’t bother you.” She hadn’t meant it as a question, simply in awe of how lucky she was to have found such an incredible man to spend her life with.

“Of course, it doesn’t,” Harry answered any way. “Nothing could change the way I feel about you. I hope you understand that someday.”

They kissed then and Aurora pushed Harry backwards until he was lying flat across the bed. She moved with him until she was lying atop him, their lips never leaving each other’s.

xXx

Louis stayed for a week after Harry arrived home, both men glad to have some time with one another, but eventually he flew home. Harry spent a few days with Aurora, enjoying some much needed time together, before he returned to the studio to get back to work. After months away from music he was excited to be back in the studio and the team he had assembled earlier in the year were equally excited to return. Aurora spent more time in the studio than she had before Louis and Niall’s visits, jumping in wholeheartedly with the writing process, which Harry loved. She would occasionally slip out of the studio to either go paint or to assist Peter and her father in further testing for the prosthetic.

xXx

At the end of July, Aurora’s prosthetist came to the tower for her first appointment. Given the fact that Tony was building a custom prosthetic it had occurred to them early on in the process that the fitting process would need to be a collaborative effort that would go smoother with home visits. Aurora was already in the workshop with Tony and Harry when the prosthetist was accompanied into the room by Happy. He introduced himself as Ben Sherman and shook everyone’s hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he said. “I’ve been looking over your medical files Aurora, and I’ve also read over your designs Mr Stark and I’m very excited to be involved in such a revolutionary project. If it’s alright with you I would like to start with looking at your residual limb. May I?”

Aurora nodded, holding her left arm out towards Ben. She was only wearing a tank top, allowing him to take full stock of the limb. She winced a little when he pressed against the incision line and he apologized. He then had Tony show them the latest prototype and they demonstrated how Aurora was able to operate it, something she had been getting much better at over the past weeks.

Once he was satisfied, he showed Tony some examples of sockets and the pair discussed the best methods and materials for constructing one to suit Auroras needs. Once that was completed, he set about taking a mould of her stump for Tony to use to form the socket.

“OK,” he said when he was finished and had repacked his bag. “I think we’ll be ready to start trying things on in about 2 weeks, so if you think you’ll have the next prototype ready by then we can book in a time for me to come and help you try it on and get used to wearing it.

“Thank you, Ben,” Aurora replied with a gentle smile. “I really appreciate you making a house call.”

“Well this is a special circumstance case,” he said. “I’m happy to help.”

Harry walked him out to the elevator and when he returned Aurora was staring at the prosthesis with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m going to finally get to try it on soon,” she said. “I can’t wait.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark #ptsd #domestic fluff

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lucyhblack · 4 years

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Well.. I don’t know exactly where that idea came from. I was just imagining a scenario where a Mamba (an SF! Sans lamia bitty created by @vex-bittys) “falls in love” with the beauty and grace of a purple Betta fish and I imagined that such an animal would be great as a UL! Sans bitty… only I didn’t really like the combination Sf!SansxUL!Sans.

So I thought about replacing SF!Sans with HT!Sans… but I could only imagine Blood/Axe seeing the little fish as a quick snack. So the idea wasn’t working out in my head.

While I was imagining as a UL!Sans Betta would look like, I thought about the mixture of colors that it could have and somehow it turned into something that looked like the painting of a galaxy. From there it was a leap to turn Lust into Outer which immediately made me think of the adorable KillerxOuter drawings from @itsxroxannex and that was what followed.

(so I kind of know how I got here, but I swear I didn’t plan anything, just let the story come out word for word)

There is also a reference to Killer “adopting” a kitten that came from the drawings of @h0da and @rahofy-sketch.

I never thought of a story with these boys, or did I read more than a few drabbles with Killer or Outer (and I’m sure none with that particular pair).

Summary: Killer did not expect anything from that day/night, much less receive a gift from one of his “coworkers”.

Killer was sitting in his room at Nightmare Castle looking out the window, not that there was anything to look at. Outside the castle’s existence, there was only darkness surrounding the domains of the sticky skeleton, just like the monster itself.

No. This was not a good comparison. As dark, cruel and scary as Nightmare was, he was still “something”. The darkness outside was more like himself. Just a dark void, with nothing to offer or desire.

A knock on his door made him turn. Standing in the doorway was Cross, Nightmare’s newest minion, or rather, his new slave, not that Cross saw himself as either.

He stared at another version of him(one that was as “white and shiny” on the outside, but as stained and broken on the inside as everyone there) and imagined that he should be curious about the surprise visit.

Cross was not look for his other versions in the castle, in fact he rarely stayed in the shadowy castle, preferring to jump from AU to AU doing … whatever he had to do. So he wondered what he was doing there in his room .

Surely he hadn’t been there for a chat (even if between a crazy killer, a killer maddened by hunger and a sadistic megalomaniac, a murderer without feelings perhaps was the best option for a conversation … at least he wasn’t crazy) and if Nightmare wanted something to do with him, he would “summon” him and not send Cross like a errand boy.

Cross coughed and moved uneasily for be stared at in silence for so long. Killer just tilted his head, he might not be curious about what Cross was doing there, but he still remembered how to pretend to be.

Not that he was going to try too hard to fake a decent reaction. It wasn’t as if Cross didn’t know what he looked like, and he didn’t have to struggle to “please” or deceive him, so a simple gesture would do. Just a small mechanical movement, something your body did without your mind having to think too much… a conditioned response for the benefit of others and not for yourself.

-Uh… I… I… here!

Cross held out a transparent bag to him. The bag was stuffed and there was something dark about the size of a large apple floating inside. At that distance it was difficult to say what it was.

Killer wondered what he should do. He could ignore the other skeleton, but Cross had a volatile temperament, which could explode at any moment, and as much as he didn’t mind fighting, he figured Nightmare wouldn’t be happy if he ended up killing his new toy. Better to take whatever it was and get it over with.

He got up and walked over to Cross who just looked at him quickly before shifting his lights to the floor. There was a faint purple glow on his face and Killer quickly went over the feeling options he should have felt in that situation: embarrassment? Fun? Curiosity for sure. But since he didn’t feel them, he really couldn’t decide which one to express.

He held out his hand and Cross passed the bag to him. It was heavier than he expected and he held it up to see what it was. It was full of water and…

It took his mind a second to process what he was seeing. Was it… a fish? It kind of looked like a heap of blue algae floating like a drowner’s hair. He moved a little closer and the tail, if that was it, moved away with a flourish revealing the rest of the creature. A small skull attached to a tiny torso attached to a shiny ecto-tail. It was another version of them, but tiny and half attached to a fish (or some species of sea creature).

A tiny version of a Sans… something tickled his mind. There was a name for that, wasn’t there? Ah yes! A bitty! A miniature version of a monster that in many universes were considered pets. But shouldn’t they have legs?

He looked away from the creature and looked at Cross. Still without looking at him, he began to murmur.

-There was nothing useful in this world. Just… these little things… bittys. Nothing worth using… Error should end this… madness, soon.

It was almost difficult to understand the murmured words, especially when he partially sunk his face, hiding it in his robes.

Okay, so he went to an AU, but he didn’t find anything he could steal to “rebuild” his own destroyed universe. Apparently Nightmare had also found no use for it and had handed it over to Error to destroy it. Nothing new, but why the “gift”?

-And? - He lifted the bag to Cross. It’s okay to get a little souvenir, but why were giving it to him?

-Well, Nightmare killed your cat… I thought… there was nothing… feline there, and, well… that’s not quite a substitute! But maybe… you would like… it…

Cross finally answered looking at him. His speech going from shy to embarrassing and then to defensive and back for the embarrassed. Maybe because in the end he noticed the ridiculous thing he was talking about.

Killer tried to piece together this explanation with no apparent meaning.

A few weeks ago he had found a cat wandering around the castle, a thin, elusive little thing, most likely one of Ax’s “snacks”, and on a whim he picked it up. The cat stayed in his room and he just fed it mechanically, until one day he must have escaped and Killer found him dead at the feet of Nightmare

That meant nothing, he just let the animal stay there and fed it when it demanded it, not because he cared or anything, it was just another automatic reaction from his body, something he knew he should do, not what he wanted to do. And now Cross had gone to some bizarre AU and brought a small version of them to “not replace” the dead cat.

A part of his mind told him that he should laugh at “maybe he was going to like it” (or even more from the stupid notion that he might be offended by Cross’s attempt to replace the dead animal with another).

He knew it was difficult for people to understand that he didn’t feel anything (how could they when they were full of feelings? Even more so Cross, so full of pain , bitterness and hope), but he didn’t feel amused and pretending was a big effort to just tease Cross.

-Ok. - He replied before Cross continued trying to explain their motivations.

The skeleton looked at him suspiciously, looking for something in his face, which he certainly wouldn’t find. Cross shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the silence stretched on until it became too much for him, who just nodded (agreeing with what Killer had no idea,) and turned down the hall and disappeared into the shadows.

Killer stood still for a moment in front of the door, holding the bag up before lowering his arm and turning slowly. He stared at the interior of his room without really seeing it, thinking about what he should do now.

The most logical thing was to get rid of it… but how should do it? Should kill him? Throw it in the toilet (that’s what they did with dead fish, wasn’t it? Except he wasn’t dead yet, and he didn’t have a toilet).

He thought about dropping the bag on the floor. Perhaps the creature would die in the fall and it would be less of a problem. Or should he give it to Axe? It would certainly be of more use to Axe than to him.

He blinked slowly, returning to see the room. It was almost a copy of the room he had once in the Underground, only much more empty and clean. There was only the mattress, with no pillows or sheets, the broken lamp and the magical hurricane, now without trash in a corner. There was no dresser, garbage or socks lying around, much less an answer to your question.

Suddenly the hurricane jumped and moved to its mattress where it seemed to belch before sliding back into its corner. Perched in the middle of the mattress, already half filled with water, was an aquarium.

Killer shrugged at the strangeness and went over to the object. He tore the bag and let the bitty drain with the water into the container below. The creature fell with a “plop” and a protest. So the creature could speak, it was to be imagined.

He bent down to watch him.

Now that he was no longer squeezed into a bag he can see it much better. It was definitely a fish, although its fins were so wide and thin they looked like hair dancing in the water, moved almost as if they had a life of their own.

He had a vague memory of knowing what kind of fish it was, but he couldn’t remember and the effort in trying was a waste of time (even if time was something he had left over). He just remembered that it was something decorative.

And decorative he looked.

Its upper part was nothing special, smooth bones and round lights, both white, a Sans Classic like thousands of others scattered in the Multiverse. But your bottom? Oh! It was a separate show.

The ecto-body was a deep blue, in the low light of the room it looked almost black. Much darker than any magic he had ever seen in a Classic, with spots of a lighter shade, almost iridescent and full of tiny bright yellow points. Its tail and fins were long and looked so thin.

They were of the same dark blue tone, but as they approached the tips, they lightened and took on a more purplish hue. They were also splashed with yellow spots.

He thought that if he felt something he should be fascinated or even envious of something so beautiful.

The little skeleton was staring back at him through the glass, he didn’t seem to be afraid, and he even swam closer to the glass, touching with his tiny hands to the barrier and tilting his face to face him better.

He swam in a somewhat “nervous” way full of quick movements, with his fins moving as if they were floating in the water. The movement made the colors tremble and blend and Killer remembered photos in a book long seen, in another world, another life.

-Galaxies… - he spoke without thinking. The bitty swam in that agitated way to the surface, his skull breaking through the water. - Are you an Outer Sans?

He had never been to the Outer universe before (he was, after all, one of the few that Error “liked” and Nightmare hadn’t wanted to create a friction with the Multiverse Destroyer for it… yet). But he had heard reports about it and imagined that a pattern that resembled both pictures of the universe and galaxies should belong to a Sans from that universe.

-Hum… I’m a Sansy type and in my tank it said that I was a Starlaxy, it seems that I’m based on a Betta HalfMoon or something.

Betta… yes, that’s what these little fish were called. Small, showy little things… there was something else, something with puddles and fights, but he did not delve into the memory.

Starlaxy… Star+galaxy? It was a good description of its tail. Already Halfmoon didn’t say anything to him, but there were 3 spatial factors, it was enough for him to classify him as Outer (and if not, who cares?).

-Are you my new master? - the “little fish” asked.

Killer considered the question. Well… Cross had given it to him, he supposed it made him his. Even though “master” made him think of Nightmare and he couldn’t imagine giving orders to the bitty (or that the bitty could do anything useful for him). Owner, maybe it was more accurate… at least until Nightmare or Dust found it and destroyed it, or Axe found it and devoured it.

-You can say it like that… - The position was bothering him. He was supposed to get the aquarium out of bed, but it looked heavy and a useless effort. He mentally shrugged and lay on the floor beside the mattress facing the ceiling.

-And what’s your name?

Killer. - he replied without looking at him.

He thought how strange these bittie creatures were. The creature didn’t look scared of him. Maybe it was too stupid, or maybe the Outers were more like the Swap (or the bitties are) and had no sense of self-preservation. If they were like that, Error could end up “adopting” some of these little creatures before destroying their universe (and “losing” them somewhere in Anti-Void).

He wondered if he would see any of these universes, but he believed not. Nightmare was focusing on Cross and didn’t need him at the moment. What left him there, with nothing to do.

Well, he supposed that for a being that was fed by negative feelings, it was more interesting to be beside another being that he could feel than one that was just an empty vessel. Bonus point he thought. Feed on both the “victims” that Cross left behind, and Cross himself.

With nothing to do, all he had to do was wait and the only advantage of having no feelings or desire was that he did not feel bored or anxious.

-So… what’s mine?

Killer turned his head and faced the bitty who had rested his arms on the edge of the aquarium and stared at him with his head resting on his crossed arms, his tail floating lazily below him.

-Your what?

-My name. - It answered.

Was it some kind of prank?

-Starlaxy? - he tried. The other snorted looking at him with mild indignation.

-No! that’s the name of what I am. Not who I am.

When he got no response from Killer, he continued.

-You know… Bitty species, type Sansy … - he enunciated moving a one hand in the air - I need a proper name. You are my master, so you name me.

-Why don’t you name yourself? - He replied.

It made sense to name a dog or a cat, but a being who could think and communicate alone? Why didn’t you name yourself?

-Hum… well I’m a bitty… it’s tradition that the owner names us. - But he himself sounded a little uncertain of that.

-Starlaxy is fine.

Killer closed the orbits while the little fish moaned.

-I’m too lazy to think about something. - It was a standard answer, something he would say whenever asked in the past and didn’t have or didn’t want to answer, so it seemed like a good answer now. - If you don’t like, name yourself.

And turned around turning his back to the aquarium. Everything was silent and he had almost fallen asleep when Bitty spoke again.

-Outer.

Killer turned to face him again.

-That’s what you called me the first time. - The little fish replied with a sleepy smile.

-Outer is also just a “rating”. - He replied.

The then self-appointed Outer just shrugged before answering.

-Yeah, I’m also too lazy to think of anything better. - He winked before letting go and sinking back into the water. He swam to the bottom of the aquarium, where he crossed his arms and leaned his head on them, closing the orbits and seeming to fall asleep in a few seconds.

Killer watched him. The little bubbles that floated from his skull from time to time, his fins dancing softly around him, making the colors mix and the golden spots seem to blink like tiny stars. Those little things rocked him to sleep while he thought the little fish was really beaultiful.

He fell asleep with the image of that cheeky wink and the memory, long forgotten, of the feeling of his own smile.

***

I don’t know if there are betta type bitties (probably there are), but the one described here was imagined by me (both the appearance and the name) and I don’t get it from some bitty site.

I always imagined that Killer would be more difficult to write… but until it flowed very easily (and I can’t believe I wrote this and am posting it, all in one day!)

Comments, questions and criticisms are welcome and thank you for reading!

#undertale #outertale #ot!sans #killer sans #outer sans #killerxouter #outerxkiller #mention of animal death #murder thoughts #nothing graphic #bittybones #bitty sans #merskeleton #kind of #betta bitty #betta sans #fanfic #my fic #betta for you

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dat-one-gal · 4 years

Text

A Sweet Little Thought -LustBerry Rewrite-

Another party, another lonely night despite being surrounded by tons of people, all their eyes focused on you. Like animals waiting for their prey, standing up on a flashing stage, the bright lights blinking showing over curves with every seductive move. Forced to act like you’re into what you’re doing, people disgusted with you because you look like you’re having so much fun with it. Yet there they sit staring at you move your body around the pole, swaying back and forth. Lustful bastards.

Lust closed his eyes listening to the music blaring in the background of the bar, trying to ignore the cheering from the disgusting monsters around him. He hated it, every second of it, he doesn’t want to do this but it’s money. Something him and his brother desperately need but no one is willing to see it his way.

Getting high just to get through it all, he was stoned out of his mind, or at least that’s what he would say had he not made a promise to someone. Being sober and doing this is the worst, dancing and doing favors for other monsters while conscious was awful.

Lust spun around the pole and opened his eyes, flinching when he was met face to face with a wolf monster. The stage was gone and so was the cheering, the room around them was dark. Lust shifted in confusion feeling cold bedsheets beneath him, looking around the room he was only met with darkness.

“Good morning babe~! Ready for round two~?” His deep voice growled out his horrid breath brushing across his face. Lusts eyes widened, his eye lights shrinking to pinpricks, closing his eyes he turned to his side.

The breathing pounding in his ears suddenly stopped and he was greeted with silence, he slowly opened his eyes again. Fearing what he would see next, he froze in confusion, he was standing in the corner of a party, a drink in his hand. Skeletons of all kinds were dancing around him, a warm glow was cast over the sea of skeletons drinking, having fun, dancing.

Looking around the sound of the music slowly started to kick in, the sound of DJ Sans’ or rather DJ blared through the place. Lust flinched startled by the sudden change; he gripped his cup tighter. Had he been here the whole time? Did he fall asleep here? Questions flew through his head at light speed he didn’t understand anything that was going on. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he would be somewhere else?

Slowly closing his eyes, he tuned out the music and looked to the side, slowly opening his eyes he was met with the same scene only he was looking at the stairs this time. People had made their way up the balcony and were talking peacefully with drinks in their hands. A door in front of the stars was decorated with bright blue stars and stickers.

Lust glanced around the house, was he in Blue’s house!? He took a deep shaky breath; he doesn’t know how he got here. Placing his head in his one free hand he tried to desperately remember how he got here. Nothing coming to mind, drawing up blanks everywhere, he took deep breaths trying to calm himself.

---

Blue smiled brightly watching his friends party, they moved around the dance floor clearly having a good time. Ink waved Blue over inviting him to dance with the group of people, the blue skeleton looked around and shrugged setting his drink down. He took quick strides over to Ink and Dream who were having a good time dancing at the front of the crowd.

He quickly joined them swaying around with the crowd and to the beat of the music, today was his birthday and he has to say, it’s one of the best birthdays he’s ever had. Joking and having fun with all of his friends, he even invited some of the more closed off people and even they were having fun!

The skeleton laughed looking around the crowd, it was a rather large party, everyone, he invited actually showed up to his surprise. He closed his eyes losing himself in the music he laughed along with Ink and Dream messing around and dancing like fools.

He loved parties, they were always so much fun and brought everyone happiness, smiling as they chatted with their friends or messed around the dance floor. Even those who don’t talk much end up having fun at parties.

---

He hated parties; they were always so loud reminding him of all the times he would come down from a high. The loud music and cheering people worsening the oncoming headache from his hangover. He hated everyone that would party, or at least went to the parties his AU held, it was disgusting.

He slowly looked up, a few people had been looking at him, Lust shuddered and pulled his crop top down slightly. The short fabric stretching to cover more of his body, he felt embarrassed by their stares. He was quick to look for an exit his eyes frantically searching for the door over the sea of people. He gripped his cup tighter he wanted to move his legs, but he felt like he was stuck in place. Fear gripping his soul, he didn’t want to move but he wanted out of here, not wanting to teleport either not sure of what was outside. Maybe he wasn’t in Blue’s house, maybe he was somewhere else, he had no idea.

He looked at the red solo cup in his hand, some red-looking liquid sloshing around the cup, some of it dripping from the lip of the cup from his squeezing, indenting the cup. He quickly brought it up to his face taking a large swig. Hoping it was spiked in one way or another, but he was only met with the sweet taste of strawberries. He slowly pulled the cup away from his mouth, he felt sick his stomach knotted up, and could already feel the vomit bubbling up his throat.

---

Dancing was fun and all, but you can only do it for so long when tons of people are bumping into you. Blue sighed and waved at Ink and Dream who somehow still had the energy to keep dancing. Both the skeletons now holding each other’s hands and jumping around, the blue-clad skeleton chuckled and walked over to the drink table next to the stairs. The table was filled to the brim with snacks and drinks, Blue grabbed a red solo cup and grabbed the ladle of a punch bowl. He could hear the soft murmur of chatter echoing under the sound of the music, making his way down the table, he looked over to the stairs. Just glancing around when he caught sight of Lust, confusion swarmed him. He thought Lust couldn’t make it because of work,

Slowly he walked over to the skeleton surprised and worried to see his trembling form. Blue took slow steps towards Lust stopping at his side. “Lust?” He called out softly, quickly catching the attention of the startled skeleton. “Hey, are you okay?” Blue whispered, he’s learned from Error to keep his hands to himself when stuff like this happens. No matter how badly he might want to hug the other skeleton it’s better to give them time.

“B-Blue! Oh! Hey Blue! Yeah, I’m fine, how are you?” Lust’s words were stiff his smile seemed more forced than anything. His body going rigid, his trembling however never seemed to stop no matter how much he seemed to try to make it stop. Blue sighed and looked around the skeleton filled room.

“How about we go outside and chat?” Blue offered gesturing towards the door a bright smile on his face. He slowly set his empty solo cup down on the corner of the table stepping in the direction of the door. Lust quickly nodded and set the crinkled cup in his hands on the table next to him, straightening up following Blue to the door slowly.

Blue nodded and led Lust towards the door, he glanced around he felt like more people were looking his way than usual. He sighed and glanced behind him, he frowned for only a moment seeing Lust’s scared shaking body trying to hide away from everyone’s stares. He quickly looked back at the door a large smile playing at his cheeks. He was good a smiling when he needed to be around people, it cheered people up, it was who he was. If he wasn’t happy then who was he?

Grabbing the handle of the door he slowly pushed it open and led Lust outside into the snowy air, looking behind him, he could see Sans, whispering and pointing them out. He felt his soul twist, how was he going to play this one off? Slowly closing the door behind him, he glanced at Lust with the click of the door.

How was he going to smile when he got back inside to all of those whispers?

---

The cold air brushed across his bones, shivering at the cold gusts of wind, he pulled his reveling jacket closer to him. He looked around, trees stood tall and proud at the front of the house, looking to the side a nicely lit town. He took a deep breath his lung greedily gulping in the fresh air no matter how it stung his lungs.

He glanced over at Blue who had been staring at him the whole time, he jumped and let go of his jacket. Quickly spinning around, he placed a hand on his hip and gave him a flirty smirk, “So what do you want to chat about Baby Blue~!” Lust quipped humming in a low seductive tone,

Blue sighed and smiled softly at him, “I only said that so you could get some fresh air, you looked cramped in there. Are you okay though, you don’t seem like your usual self?” Blue asked softly making sure to tread lightly, he didn’t want to upset the skeleton any further. Lust sighed and closed his eyes, the darkness of his own mind drawing the world to a close for a moment.

He was quick to open his eyes, pulling his jacket closer to him he glanced at Blue. “I... just, how did I get here?” Lust whispered seeming ashamed of the fact he had no idea where he was for the most part or how he got there. He wanted to know so badly but every time he tried to look for an answer his soul just ached. What happened to him between now and then? Why did everything have to hurt so badly.

“Well, honestly I have no idea when I invited you, I got a ‘no’ in response, you told me you were busy with work.” Blue attempted to answer leaning against the wooden railing of the porch his words pulling Lust from his thoughts. Looking out into the snowy land Blue sighed and relaxed in the silence. Lust shuddered the cold slowly getting to him when he brought his arms up to hug himself. His eye water slightly, it felt more like he was trying to comfort himself at this point.

“I see…” He muttered his eyes fixed to the ground; he could feel hot tears trying to push their way out of his eyes. He was terrified, what if he had done something stupid, what if he got high again!? What did he do during that gap of time, should he be working right now!?

Blue glanced over at Lust and sighed, pushing himself off the railing of the porch he wrapped his arm around Lust. Jolting the other out of their thoughts he smiled softly at Lust and slowly pulled his arm away. He glanced at a bench that sat neatly in the corner of the porch, looking back at Lust he grimaced the skeleton seemed to frail it almost hurt. He sighed and grabbed Lust’s arm gently tugging him over to the bench he had him sit down. He looked around and grabbed the back of his sweater, reaching over his head and quickly pulling it off of himself.

Lust watched in confusion as Blue pulled off his pale blue sweater and smiled at Lust, “Raise your arms.” the purple-clad skeleton gave him a strange look before slowly lifting his arms. Blue chuckled and pulled the sweater over Lust’s smaller form. He grinned when Lust’s head popped out of the sweater. “Better?” Blue asked softly and sat down next to the confused skeleton.

Lust didn’t respond at first looking at the sweater that covered most of his bones, he looked up at Blue and sighed. “Yeah.” He muttered, he felt better with most of his body covered anyways, not that he could just walk around like that when he wanted. He sighed and pushed himself into the thick sweater, he just wished he could disappear into the sweater and never come back out.

“So, what’s going on?” Blue asked softly leaning into the wood of the bench he looked over at Lust with a soft smile on his face. The short skeleton sunk further into the sweater and looked away from him. He wanted to spill his heart out, to cry until there were no more tears left, but he was just too tired. He just didn’t have it in him to do that right at this moment, he sighed heavily and looked back up at Blue.

“Just...bullshit.” Lust whispered and smiled weakly when Blue gave him a playful glare,

“Is that so? Are you sure it’s just that?” Blue pressed gently he didn’t want to upset the skeleton but sometimes, he couldn’t help it. Sometimes it’s better to be sad than just bottling it all up inside.

“You wouldn’t get it.” Lust deflected his gaze once again glued to the floor like it was the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“Try me.” Blue grinned, maybe he didn’t understand but he would try his hardest to if it meant helping someone out, he would do his best.

---

The words just flew out of his mouth, anger lanced into his tone he spat every word out like it was venom, glaring at Blue with tears in his eyes the world around him sounded like static. He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point. He wanted to stop the moment Blue’s eyes widened, the moment the first words came out of his mouth.

But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t stop, his face soon grew hot, tears falling down his cheeks like waterfalls. He gripped on to the sweater encasing his chest, soon the words stopped falling from his mouth. He took deep breaths his body shaking, he held onto his head and whined, closing his eyes his face scrunching up. The loud sound of static slowly dying down, his mind came to a slow calm. He flinched at the sound of soft laughter, looking up he slowly lowered his hands from his head.

Blue’s face held a sad smile his once bright and happy demeanor gone with no trace of it ever being there. “I guess you were right, I can’t understand, but that doesn’t mean I can relate to it in some way. I hate being happy all the time truth be told, but it’s the role I play.” Blue words were soft and gently like if he raised his voice even a little, he would break something fragile. Lust shook his head and slowly brought his knees to his chest hugging his legs.

“The role I play huh…” Lust muttered and buried his face into his knees, trying to block out the noise in his head.

“Hm, you know what, I don’t think I’m gonna be a happy go lucky skeleton anymore.” Blue suddenly announced drawing Lust’s attention back to him the purple-clad skeleton gave him a confused look. “You’ve given me the courage to go against my role.” Blue paused for a moment thinking about something. A moment of silence passed before a smile crept onto Blue’s face, “Fuck being happy and what everyone thinks. I’m going to be me and there isn’t shit they can do about it.” Blue grinned proud of himself for cursing out loud for once, Lust, however, flinched at this and looked at Blue in pure shock.

“Wh- I-” Lust stammered but was cut off by Blue before he could continue,

“I think you should be yourself too, I think it really suits you, acting all shy.” Blue teased with a grin plastered to his face. Lust blinked his face lighting up a light shade of purple, he quickly looked away and took in a deep breath.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lust muttered into the wool of the sweater, looking back at Blue with a flirty look after a moment, “I love the way I act~!” he stuck his tongue out in a playful flirty manner. Blue frowned at this making his soul twist, he felt bad, but he doesn’t want to let go.

What else will he heave if he suddenly stops pretending!? He jumped when Blue suddenly pulled him into a hug, pressing his face into Lust’s shoulder he whispered something that shook Lust’s soul.

“I guess it was a sweet little thought, wasn’t it? It’s fine, take your time, I’ll be here waiting for you like I was so many other times.” Silence overtook the two both of them sitting there for who knows how long. Lust slowly raised his hands and grabbed onto the back of Blue’s shirt, pushing his face into his neck. Hot tears spilling onto his cheekbones, he just held onto Blue for dear life, his sobs quiet as the forest around them.

“I- just need time…” Lust whispered in a soft tearful voice, his words trembling with depression, he let himself be encased in the warmth of Blue’s hug.

“Take all the time you need, I have all night and tomorrow night, and the nights after that.”

A small laugh was shared between the two,

“Okay…”

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pokeprism · 4 years

Text

Altered End: Chapter 4 (The Perfect Plan)

This is the fourth chapter of my Undertale AU! The raw text is below the cut!

FIRST: Prologue --- PREVIOUS: Friendly Reminders --- NEXT: Rest And Release

Sans, Chara, and Frisk appear on the other side of Sans’s shortcut to Snowdin Town’s welcome sign. Chara looks around and gets a feeling of warmth just like any other time they’ve been there, then notices that Frisk and Sans are walking further into town and starting a conversation.

“Sans! I thought you were going to Judgement hall!” Frisk barks.

“Well we DID say that we were gonna visit Pap right?” Sans replies.

“We? What do you mean ‘we’?! You did all the talking!”

“Ehh, fair enough. But I know I don’t wanna disappoint him.”

By this moment, the townsfolk have noticed Sans talking to a complete stranger as if they were close friends, and begin to watch as the skeleton and human continue on. Chara has been keeping up with the duo without being noticed, as per usual for them at this point.

“Dangit Sans! That would have been so simple! Why can’t you make things easier for me?!” Frisk exclaims.

“Woah kiddo, calm down. Didn’t I just do that for you? Besides, it’s a short walk from here to Waterfall once we’re done having dinner.” Sans reasons.

Chara bluntly butts into the conversation with “Frisk, you know he just helped us all the way past the mostly bare parts of this zone.”. Frisk and Sans both focus their attention on Chara as they continue with “All you have to do is have enough patience to spend dinner with these two. That’s certainly simpler than doing battle with all of this zone’s monsters and working at those puzzles, right?”

Frisk groans. “Sure, sure, you’re right. I’ve sat through worse, and my goal can wait for now.”

Sans sighs in relief, thankful that he didn’t have to use anything more than words for this situation. By the next moment, they get to the skeleton brothers’ house, and Sans opens the door and steps aside for Frisk and Chara to come in. Frisk walks in like anyone else would, whereas Chara phases through the wall to the left of the door instead. Papyrus is almost done cooking his spaghetti when he hears the door close.

“Oh? Sans, that was fast! How did you do that?!” Papyrus asks.

“I keep tellin’ ya bro, I got shortcuts.” Sans answers.

“Oh. Alrighty.” Papyrus plainly says, then turns back to his spaghetti, turns off the oven burner, picks up the pot, and dumps it in the colander. He turns in Frisk’s direction as he says “My spaghetti is almost done, human!” then pauses. “Eh? There’s a hand on your shoulder Human. Is that normal?”

Frisk checks both of their shoulders, and sees Chara’s hand on their right shoulder, then looks at Chara, confused. Chara returns the look, then lifts their hand off of Frisk’s shoulder. Frisk then turns to Papyrus, words at the ready.

“No no, it’s totally normal.” Frisk says with sarcasm. “But uh, Papyrus, could you call me Frisk?”

“Huh? You knew my name? Is that another one of your powers?”

Frisk blankly stares at Papyrus for a moment.

“Erm, I can call you Frisk if you want me to! So I, the great Papyrus, shall do so!”

“Thank you Papyrus.”

“Anyways, I’m gonna go up to my room.” Sans says. He then looks to Chara and gestures for them to follow him. Chara catches on, and begins to drift in the direction of Sans’s room. Sans then begins to walk upstairs as he adds “See you two in a bit!”

Chara makes it to Sans’s room first, but then politely waits for Sans to open his room’s door before phasing through the wall anyway. Sans is startled by Chara’s seemingly sudden appearance in his room.

“Wha- huh?!”

“Oh!” Chara exclaims, “Sorry about that, I’m still getting used to the phasing through walls thing…”

Sans uses his magic to shut the door, then turns back to Chara. “So, I have several questions, if I may ask ‘em.”

“Oh sure! Ask away!”

“First off, what’s your name? It’s rather impolite to not properly introduce yourself, right?”

“Oh yeah, I’m not sure what people think of me nowadays, but I’m Chara Dreemurr.” Chara looks away as they add “I didn’t think you would have been able to hide your shock earlier if I said it.”

Sans pauses for a moment, then regains his bearing and says “Welp, you were right about that part. But anyways, do ya know how you became a lost soul?”

“I've been one for a while, but without being visible… I think me messing with Flowey’s menus made me visible to Frisk when we started back at the ruins.”

“Oh, so that flower has those too?”

“Had. Frisk seems like they don’t have any menus right now either, hence why they aren’t doing that hitting-an-invisible-and-floating-button thing when they are about to do something.”

“Huh. Anything else going differently?”

“Well, my check ability isn’t working right. I can only see the health bar and not any definite numbers for stats and stuff like that.”

“That’s odd. Anyways, what are Frisk’s thoughts on this? Do ya know?”

“Frisk has said they know what their goal is, and that they’d rather not dawdle.”

“That explains their temper from earlier.” Sans then pauses for a moment, then adds “Welp, that was the last of my questions. Have any questions for me kiddo?”

“Not any I can think of.” Chara then has a sudden realization. “Oh! Sans, can you come along with Frisk and I? You’d be really helpful!”

“Err, for what exactly? I may have my shortcuts, but I’m not sure if anything else would be too helpful.”

“Okay then. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Got it Chara. Should we go check on Paps and Frisk?”

“Oh yeah we should.”

Sans reopens his room’s door, and both he and Chara come out to see what’s happening with Frisk and Papyrus. Once Sans and Chara go down the stairs, and notice an empty plate on the table, as well as an absence of Frisk and Papyrus.

“Where did they go?” Chara asks.

Sans looks back upstairs, then turns back to Chara as he says “I think we walked past ‘em. Seems like they’re havin’ some platonic bonding time.”

“Oh fun. I’ll… Let them do that.”

Some time later, and in a different place in Snowdin, Flowey is getting annoyed. He’s set his trap in the stretch between Snowdin and Waterfall, and has been waiting there for almost the entire day. Flowey thought that Frisk would be coming by to advance to Waterfall, but they haven’t come by yet, and it’s now late at night. As a result of his impatience, Flowey thinks maybe if he catches Frisk while they are unprepared, he can snag their soul, and initiate his plan. Due to the current time and the fact that Frisk hasn’t shown up, Flowey gets an inkling of where that idiot might be. Flowey thinks that he might as well try to ambush Frisk, seeing as Frisk is most likely asleep. So Flowey begins to disassemble his trap and move toward Snowdin, all while looking for Frisk.

Back in the Skeleton’s house, Frisk is asleep on the couch due to the fact that there are no other beds in the skeletons’ possession. On the other hand, Chara has been unable to sleep thanks to seemingly no reason at all. They’ve been attempting to sleep on the floor just in front of the TV, about two tiles away from where Frisk is sleeping. Chara then notices an odd shape beyond their feet, and after a moment of Chara’s eyes adjusting to the darkness, Chara makes out the shape of Flowey just ahead of the front door. In a moment of panic, Chara unknowingly warps themself to Sans’s room just before panickedly (and mostly incoherently) yelling something to the effect of “FLOWEY’S HERE AND FRISK IS IN DANGER” Sans perks awake, and instinctively teleports himself just outside his door, instantly noticing the lot of vines in the house. Flowey is at the foot of the couch as he devilishly smiles to himself.

“Well well well…” Flowey softly says as his vines snake around Frisk, “Looks like you’re-”

Sans is quick on the draw with his blasters. Flowey instantly recognizes the sound of them, and disengages his vines before they can take any damage. In the same moment, Frisk hears the blasters go off and is unfamiliar with the sound, which makes Frisk snap into panic mode. Frisk gets up, bounds off the couch in the direction of the door (and in the process stepping on Flowey), and zips out the door after opening it. Chara floats back into the main room of the house as Flowey recovers from the blunt force of Frisk’s foot, then realizes where his prize went. Flowey quickly disappears into the floor as Sans and Chara share an OH CRAP moment.

Unlike their previous times through here, Frisk is running. From what? Flowey. He’s managed to get behind Frisk and has started after them with his vines engaged and pointed at Frisk. Thankfully for Frisk, they’ve pulled out the toy knife and are advancing faster than Flowey is. Flowey’s inability to catch Frisk for the time being is making his anger build, and he has decided that he absolutely can not, and should not let this idiot human get away. As Frisk continues to run, they can hear vines snaking on both sides of themself, but Frisk has learned from their previous encounter with flowey. Frisk quickly glances to their right and sees a vine coming for the arm, to which Frisk whirls and scores a hit, slicing the vine the moment before it would have gotten hold of them. Another vine attempts to trip Frisk by the ankle, but Frisk sees it coming and hops over it, so far taking no damage. By this moment, Frisk is almost to Waterfall with Flowey a couple strides behind them, and Flowey is at his limit. He summons a mess of pellets then initiates their attack run, and they streak like bullets before they all land around Frisk, completely missing them. As Flowey fumes with anger and comes to a stop, a line of Sans’s blasters quickly vaporizes Flowey’s base of vines, and Flowey’s now missing base makes him tumble in the air just before he cartoonishly hits the ground with a resounding thump. Frisk witnesses this and is frozen with awe, whereas Sans sees Flowey hit the floor, and summons a bone cage around the flower as he summons a blaster and lines it up with the cage’s one exit. Unprepared for the sudden followup attack, Flowey takes a blaster beam to the face, and surprisingly lives with a small percent of health remaining. As Flowey regains his senses, time slows to a crawl, and in this moment, Flowey only has one thing on this mind: staying alive. He had come to the realization that if he dies here, there’s no coming back thanks to the reset button’s nonexistence in this run. Against his desire to start his plan, Flowey disappears into the ground to flee from this battle and recover. Now that the flower is gone, the tension of the battle ebbs from the area, which leads Chara and Sans to look to Frisk, who is standing just beyond where the snow ends in this tract of land. Sans sighs in relief, then begins to walk toward Frisk. Chara begins to drift in the same direction shortly after Sans, but is going slightly faster. Frisk, relieved and with a tired gaze, just watches their approach. Chara gets to Frisk first on account of their faster approach.

“What the heck were you thinking, Frisk?!” Chara loudly asks.

“Well… I thought running would have worked?” Frisk admits.

Chara looks squarely at Frisk and says “You know what Flowey wants to do with your soul by now, right?”

“Yeah yeah, I do. I just thought…”

“Woah hey kiddos.” Sans says as he gets next to both Frisk and Chara. “No one got hurt. Everything’s chill. Can’t ya both be happy you survived tonight?”

Chara and Frisk exchange looks for a moment. On one hand, Chara realizes their mistake of scolding Frisk, whereas Frisk notes that they could have fallen at the hands (and or vines) of that psychotic flower.

“I’m sorry Frisk. I’m relieved we both got through tonight…” Chara admits.

Frisk nods in response.

“Anyways, you two look like you need some sleep.” Sans says, then quickly adds “Want a shortcut back to my place?”

Frisk tiredly nods in Sans’s direction, as does Chara.

“Welp, time to go back then. Come on kiddos.”

Sans begins to walk off, to which Chara and Frisk follow. And like that, they are back at the skelebros’ house. Chara sleepily phases through the door shortly before Frisk opens it and walks through, with sans close behind. All three of them get back to where they were before Flowey’s failed ambush, and softly drift off to sleep.

#Jamie W. (Pokeprism)#altered end #chapter 4 #undertale au #undertale #the perfect plan #7/9/2020

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