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shmorp-mcdurgen · 1 year

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Mandela Prophet AU: Confrontation

After a couple of months of dealing with, and being controlled by the parasitic alternate living in him, Adam decides to confront the being that cursed him.

CW: Body horror, religious imagery, blood

Notes: around 4′300 words. I’m actually decently proud of this one, and. stayed up late making it but either way hope you enjoy!

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Adam awoke on the cold, damp asphalt of a parking lot.

His back stung, feeling as though it had caught fire, the barely healed wounds pressed against the ground, the small stones digging into his skin. Adam slowly opened his eyes, gasping as he glanced around the empty lot he found himself on. He looked down at himself, seeing he was missing his shirt, and that his pants and parts of his pale skin were stained with crimson; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if it belonged to him or not. Either way, he hated that he was used to the sight of blood.

He attempted to sit up, only to let out a quick yell, immediately falling as he felt the muscles in his back cry out in pain at the motion. Adam grimaced as he curled his hands into fists, suppressing more cries of discomfort as he forced himself to stand on his feet, stumbling as a wave of dizziness hit him at once. He took a few steps back, his bare feet cold as they pressed against the asphalt. His breathing was uneven as he steadied himself, trying to ground himself by grasping and running his hands through his ratty, pale brown hair.

He grasped his head, groaning as he shook his head, as if he was trying to literally shake off the migraine that was developing. The rising sun shone from just under the horizon, with even the dim light from it making Adam’s dilated eyes sting. It was as if his eyes didn’t work as well in the light as they did in the dark anymore, like an owl, or a bat. The night vision would’ve been nice, if it meant he wouldn’t tear up during the day sometimes. Though, the feeling of dry tears on his face proved that he had been crying anyway.

Adam reached behind him, his cold, clammy hands lightly pressing against his back, the action making him wince. There were deep, pale reddish pink indented parts of his skin, just barely healed over so it wouldn’t bleed out. Dried and coagulated blood was stuck to his flesh, trails of it running down from the large blotches on his back. Every muscle and bone in his body ached, his spine and ribs popping and cracking with every motion he made, the ligaments and cartilage burning from stretching and bending in ways they weren’t made to bend. Adam simply sighed, his voice growling slightly before he crossed his arms and hunched over, beginning to walk down the sidewalk, hoping to get back to the BPS HQ without being seen; he needed some fucking clothes.

He stumbled down the sidewalk, his eyes darting around erratically as he hoped that the people in the cars passing by didn’t pay much attention to him, nor his haggard appearance. He could only imagine being mistaken for an alternate due to his pale skin, sunken eyes and the blood staining his clothes, and though the person wouldn’t necessarily be wrong, he didn’t want to be shot by someone due to that, instead trying to stay in the shadows, taking any shortcuts he can to get him to his house quicker. His legs felt wobbly, and his head was foggy, though nevertheless he continued, the thought of sleeping being far too tempting for his own good. Hell, he would’ve felt fine falling onto the grass of a random person’s yard, sleeping for a few hours, not being able to feel the overwhelming soreness that overtook him. However, he didn’t think of the idea much further than that, deciding to walk the last few blocks instead of having the cops called on him.

He trembled uncontrollably, rubbing his shoulders as he walked in an attempt to comfort himself, telling himself reassurances under his breath:

“It’s over, it’s alright, it’s not going to hurt you for a while, you’re okay.” Were among the statements he told himself, feeling comfort over the fact that the parasite within him wasn’t moving in the slightest; no twitches, no shifts, and no prodding. It was asleep, and hopefully it would stay that way. Despite the lack of motion in his torso however, Adam couldn’t help but feel the pressure in his chest, and the feeling of dread that clouded his thoughts. He felt like complete shit, in and out, physically and mentally. He shut his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, getting his thoughts together before he flinched at a sound nearby.

“Are you alright?”

Fuck.

Adam looked to his right, seeing a woman on her porch, staring at her with a look in between fear and concern. Adam didn’t even realize how haunting his crazed stare was until he looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat as he attempted to speak. “U…u-uh…I-I-I…” Adam could do nothing but sputter words unable to create a story to explain his state.

“Do…Do you need a doctor?” The woman asked innocently, though Adam couldn’t help but think she was stupid for asking; what would a doctor do to help him at that point? He didn’t need a fucking doctor, he needed a priest.

“N-No…no, I d…don’t.” Adam stated. “I’m…fine.”

“Hold on, I’ll call an—”

“DON’T!” Adam shouted, immediately regretting doing so when he saw the woman flinch. “Don’t…I-I…fucking hell—”

Adam glanced at the woman before running down the sidewalk until he was out of view, ducking behind another house as he shook; fucking shit, what if she called the cops? How the fuck would he even begin to explain his situation? He felt the fear coming from her, and he hated it. He hated that he could sense fear towards him, coming from a woman that only wanted to help out. He leaned against the outer wall, putting his hands over his face, staring through his fingers with wide, crazed eyes. He slid down the wall, sitting on the cold, dewy grass as he crossed his arms on his knees, curling into himself as he held his head low.

Such a fucking moron. Took a deal from the devil just because he wanted to know more than his mind could handle, finding out he was never human in the first place. God damn it, even his harsh breathing and crying sounded inhuman. Why couldn’t he have lived as a normal kid? Why was he chosen to be this stupid prophet? Why him of all people? Why him? Why him? WHY HIM?

“Why…me…?” Adam squeaked under his breath through the tears.

Sarah opened the door to see Adam leaning against the doorway, his stare vacant and fixed on the floor before he slowly looked up at Sarah’s face. He looked like death; a look that had become the norm for him. Sarah let out a breath, glancing towards the ground in a mutual understanding before stepping out of the way, muttering a defeated “Get in” under her breath before Adam walked inside of the apartment.

“Is that where you’ve been all night?” Sarah asked as Adam fell onto the couch, lying across it with a wince as the fabric pressed against his back.

“…Yeah.” Adam sighed quietly.

“It’s only been…what, a week? Two maybe?” Sarah said. “It seems like it’s been…especially irritable lately.”

“Yep.” Adam rubbed his face with his thin, bony hands.

“What haven’t we tried yet?” Sarah asked. “Antibiotics do fuck all, bullets work but…only if we hit you square in the chest with them; Surgery maybe?”

Adam scoffed. “What would a doctor do?” Adam said softly, a slight, disingenuous smile on his face. “They’d cut me open…dissect me. Gawk at the fact there’s a new species of alternate living inside me.” Adam pressed his hands against his face. “I’d rather take my chances with the stupid thing than be some…science experiment in a lab.”

“Okay, then what?” Sarah asked, her shoulders tensing. “Nothing seems to work, so…” Sarah gasped. “…exorcism.”

“No.”

“…Hey it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

“Since when have fucking exorcisms worked against alternates?” Adam sat up slightly. “You hold up a crucifix to them and they laugh at you. If anything, that would probably just piss the thing off more.”

“Come on, I’m just trying to help.” Sarah sighed.

“Whatever…” Adam groaned as he stood from the couch. “I need to take a fucking shower anyway. I’ll figure something out myself.”

As Adam walked down the hallway, Sarah glanced at the floor, grasping the sleeve of her jacket as she thought to herself. There had to be some way to get rid of the parasite…right?

That night, Adam laid on the couch, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a black hoodie, its hood covering his head. He had his hands folded on his stomach, absentmindedly staring at the wall as Sarah sketched something in her notebook. He glanced over towards her, seeing a blank, yet focused expression as her pencil scratched across the paper. “…What’re you drawing?” He asked.

“Oh…” Sarah said, her eyes glancing around before making brief eye contact with Adam. “Just…thoughts.”

“…What ‘thoughts?’”

“I don’t know.” Sarah sighed. “Just doodling stuff I guess.” She glanced down at the drawing she was working on, being a diagram of what she believed the parasite looked like inside of Adam’s body, with its own “heart” under his sternum, and “veins” reaching through his limbs. She stared at it before shutting the sketchbook entirely. “Nothing important.”

“Right.” Adam looked away, sighing before leaning his head backwards to hit the armrest of the couch. He barely even fit on the couch anymore, with his legs seeming to be longer than he remembered. He stared at the popcorn ceiling, brows furrowing as he thought to himself. “…You think…I’ll ever be cured?”

Sarah paused, staring at Adam with uncertainty in her eyes. “…I don’t…know, maybe?” Sarah said. “There’s got to be a way to get rid of it, if it works like other parasites—”

“But it doesn’t, Sarah.” Adam stated with a half-lidded glare. “It works nothing like other parasites. It’s alive, it’s…able to make its own decisions.”

“Doesn’t…seem like that to me.” Sarah said. “Always seemed like it ran on instincts from…you know—”

“That time I almost killed you?” Adam said, despite the sour feeling in the air when he said it. “I get it. I don’t know it sometimes acts like…this dumb animal, and other times it feels like it’s being—”

Adam froze, his eyes widening as his mind began connecting the dots. He sat up, planting his elbows on his knees and covering his mouth with one of his hands. Sarah looked at him, feeling pressure building in her chest before she spoke. “You…alright?”

“I’m fine.” Adam shut his eyes for a second. “Don’t worry about it, just…figuring some things out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…” Adam sighed. “Just…thinking.”

Adam sat on his bed, still in his normal clothes before he glanced at the clock on the wall: 1:00 AM. He stood up, walking towards the door before slowly opening it, glancing at Sarah’s bedroom door, his eyes gleaming in the dark. Seeing that it was closed, Adam turned to the other side of the hallway, seeing the moonlight pouring into the living room through the window. He sighed through his nose, walking down the hallway and into the living room, grabbing his boots and slipping them on, tying them up quickly and quietly. He grabbed a flashlight from the coffee table, taking one last look around the room before shaking his head and walking through the front door.

Adam drove down the dark road, passing by the last home on the edge of town as his piercing gaze fixated on the road illuminated by the headlights. His throat felt dry, feeling the mandibles curled up next to his jaw scratching at the flesh in his inner cheek. The Parasite seemed to be slumbering, though he couldn’t help but feel as though the mandibles were scratching at his jaw and cheeks, trying to get him to turn back despite him having no desire to do so. He ran on intuition, following the road towards where he knew he needed to be, trying his best to ignore the faint blood stains on the dashboard and the fact that he was sitting in a car that belonged to someone…Adam preferred not to think about. It made him sick just thinking of him.

He drove silently, seeing a fence to his left, stretching on in front of the forest beside it until it ended at a large metal gate. Adam parked the car on the side of the road, sighing deeply before shutting it off and opening the door. Despite the darkness, he could see clearly, reading the metal lettering above the black gate: “ST. GABRIEL’S CHURCH”

Adam stared at the sign before looking down at the gate itself, seeing that it had torn police tape draped across the rusted metal. It swayed in the wind like ribbons as Adam pushed open the gateway, hearing the shrill squeaking and screeching the hinges let out as he passed through, walking down the gravel road as he turned his flashlight on, seeing the two large bell towers of the cathedral above the tree line.

He walked into the large opening where the church sat, his boots echoing off of the parking lot pavement as rain sprinkled down from above. He looked up, his determined gaze fixed on the larger-than-life church that sat before him, staring at the tall doors that led inside. He felt his heart beat hard in his chest, the mandibles in his cheeks scratching even harder, to the point where he could taste blood. Despite it and the intense dread building within him, he took in a deep breath and walked towards the doors. If that angel was anywhere, it would be here.

Adam pushed open the doors, seeing that it was nearly pitch black inside of the building. He looked forward, seeing the rows of pews to his left and right, the large pillars on the left and right walls reaching for the tall, vaulted ceiling. Steel, tall candle holders lined the walls, the candles unlit. The only light aside from Adam’s flashlight in the entire great hall was the moonlight shining from behind the giant stained-glass window behind the elevated stage, depicting an angel in white garb and long, flowing hair, holding their hands out with their eyes closed, along with a faint smile on their face. Their wings were pristine and perfect, and the background of the piece was made of blue, green, and yellow shards of glass.

There was a large pedestal in the middle of the stage, around the size of a desk but made of what seemed like carved stone. There was writing on the front of it, though Adam couldn’t make out what it was due to the staining covering it. Adam walked down the red carpet in between the rows of benches, his eyes fixed on a shadow in front of the stained glass window, hearing the faint clinking of metal as it swayed in an unfelt wind. Adam pointed his flashlight at the object, finally making out what it was; an analog television, being hung up by the chains wrapped around it, suspended above the large stone pedestal.

Adam’s expression turned to one of confusion as he pointed his light behind him, seeing nothing aside from the empty benches and unlit candles, despite the feeling of being watched. As he looked around, a bright white light hit his back, with the sound of static filling his ears as he swung around. The TV had switched on by itself, despite the cord hanging loosely underneath it, not connected to anything around it. Adam stared at the TV, swallowing hard, unable to help but notice that the mandibles abruptly became still.

Adam switched off his light, the static reflecting off of his dilated eyes before he saw random cords begin to appear from behind the screen, hanging from inside of the screen and spilling out from it. Adam stumbled back a few steps, staring at the TV as he saw something come into view from behind the glass; a thin, bony hand. It pushed through the screen, grasping the side of the television before being followed by the other, cool grey colored hand. Soon, a head appeared, along with a thin torso, both being concealed by a black hoodie. The beings head faced down as its hands gripped onto the sides of the TV, all before he looked down at Adam, his face finally being visible to Adam as his breath hitched. It was the man in the TV; the one who took him away.

Six’s right eye appeared to have been gouged out, dark, thick blood running down his thin cheek and staining the patchy facial hair below it. His remaining yellowed eye was fixated on Adam, seeming more surprised than anything else. His hoodie appeared to be stained and torn near where his torso was protruding from the TV, with cords seeming to be attached to the skin in his arms and his torso, attaching him to the television. Adam didn’t even let himself wonder what happened to him before he clenched his fists and grimaced.

“It’s YOU.” Adam stated through clenched teeth.

“…The…prodigal son…returns.” Six wheezed, his voice deep, and as rough as sandpaper. “How…stupid.”

“You…you’re the reason I’m here.” Adam stated. “You made me into this fucking THING; I COULD’VE HAD A NORMAL LIFE IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU.”

“Adam…you don’t understand…the…mistake you’ve made by coming here.” Six continued, glancing around the room. “It…knows you’re here now.”

“I don’t care!” Adam shouted. “Why?! Why me, of everyone you’ve taken, why me?!”

“Adam, LISTEN TO ME! You’re a FOOL for coming here.” Six snapped, leaning down as more of his torso revealed itself through the static, Adam finally being able to see it fully. He didn’t have any legs or even hipbones; his spine was all there was, wires and cords wrapped around the bones, forcing him to stay inside of the television. He was trapped.

Adam stared at the exposed spine before Six caught his attention yet again. “What I did…was for a reason.” He continued, his voice going back to the wheezy, out of breath inflections it was in before. “A reason RUINED by…it. The false shepherd.” Six spoke that statement with pure distain, staring off into space before fixing his gaze back onto Adam. “I…am not to blame. They…are the reason…you’ve been made into…this.”

“I know that…” Adam stated. “But I wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t replace some poor kid with ME.”

“I am just as stuck…as you, Murray.” Six stated. “Yet you refuse…to see what is right in fr—”

Six was interrupted when the TV began to short circuit, sending shots of electricity into his body as he screamed, his voice distorting and stuttering before he quickly retreated into the static, the screen flickering off soon after. Adam stared at the TV before he noticed faint orange lights appearing behind him. He turned around, seeing the candles lighting themselves, illuminating the dark hall as Adam’s flashlight shut off. He looked at his own torch, smacking it to get it to work, only making it flicker on before shutting off right after. As he looked forward, the flickering light caught something on the pedestal, Adam’s breath hitching when he saw it. A blackened, bony hand pressed against the top of the stone, soon followed by a thin, grey arm.

A figure emerged from behind the pedestal, standing tall above Adam, her long, black cloak covering her skeletal body. Her head was partially covered by a hood, along with white coif which was wrapped around her long neck and forehead. Her mouth was wide open, slack as if her jaw was dislocated, Adam only being able to see yellowed teeth in it. Large black eye sockets were situated high on her face, with two eyes being visible from inside of them, sunken into the void. Her skeletal face stared at Adam as she stood up straight, walking around the pedestal, her cloak flowing as her sharp, pointed legs silently walked across the floor, with her long arms moving to fold her hands in front of her.

Adam stumbled back from her, recognizing the haunting face from the home he and Jonah were investigating, shocked it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He tripped over his feet, falling backwards onto the ground as his flashlight clattered against the white tiles. He stared as the figure looked at him, her head tilting slightly as if she was waiting for something. She only looked away when everything went eerily silent and see looked right behind Adam, her head lowering as she kneeled on the ground.

“Coming here…searching for answers?” An echoing, raspy, choked voice stated from right behind Adam, making his hair stand on end as it chuckled. “How stupid. For once, I must agree with the tulpa; you’ve made a mistake coming here to see me.”

Adam scrambled to his feet, swinging around to see the tall “angel” in front of him, their gaze trying to be soft and inviting, though it gave the stark opposite feeling looking at it. The monochromatic entity stared at Adam, folding its hands in front of their chest as their giant, half-formed wings spread out across the church, blocking off any exits. Adam stood his ground, standing up straight and trying to shake off the overwhelming dread he felt growing within him.

“Y-You…you’re the one to blame for…all this, huh?” Adam stated.

“So…it’s a blaming game?” Gabriel asked, pressing their palm against their cheek as he tilted their head. “How fun! I suppose I can play it as well. First off…you are the one that took my deal, Murray. You were free to walk away.”

“That’s complete BULLSHIT!” Adam shouted. “You told me I’d learn everything I wanted to know, not that I’d get this…this fucking PARASITE!”

“Every deal comes with a price.” Gabriel leaned down towards Adam. “I told you to follow me…that was your end of the deal. I’ve given you everything you needed to know, yet you seem to resist holding your end of the bargain.”

“No.” Adam growled. “Never.”

“…Really.” Gabriel cackled, the sound drilling itself into Adam’s ears as he reached for something attached to his belt, covered by his hoodie; a pistol. “You think you have a choice in the matter anymore, Murray?”

Adam swung up his pistol, pointing it up at Gabriel’s smiling face, their all-too-wide smile not fading despite it. “Get. It. Out.” Adam commanded. “The deals off. Let me live my fucking life…and we’ll never see each other again.

Gabriel let out another loud cackle, Adam’s stern and determined expression fading slightly before he regained it, moving his finger to the trigger. “Oh, Adam.” Gabriel laughed. “The deal has already been made, there’s no going back now. However…I am capable of following one of your demands.”

Gabriel’s distorted laugh continued as Adam stared up at them with fury, all before the brave expression on his face disappeared in an instant as he felt a sharp pain in his torso. He shook, dropping his pistol before falling to his knees, loud ringing piercing his ears as Gabriel’s laugh and crazed, impossible expression taunted him. Adam could feel the parasite wriggling inside of him, awoken despite just having gotten out the night before. The pain seemed worse however, as if he was in the late stages of the parasite taking over instead of going through the discomfort and droning on and on he was used to.

“Adam…you have yet to follow your end of the deal…” Gabriel said calmly as Adam convulsed and shook, the parasite prodding at his skin and one of the mandibles pushing out of his mouth. “You disappoint me. I hope you won’t end up the same as the previous prophet; such promise…disappointing that his mere human form couldn’t handle the task.”

“F-F-Fuck…y…y-you.” Adam stammered through the pain, choking each word out.

“I’m giving you the option to start simple, Murray.” Gabriel continued as Adam slammed his fist against the floor, inhuman whining and screeching being audible from deep within his form. “You see…your friend, Sarah…she’s beginning to get in the way of your tasks. Still stuck in the past…thinking about her poor brother, as if he isn’t rotting underground already.”

Adam wanted to yell at them, but found himself being unable to.

“Or…perhaps that girl you were with…you don’t like her much anyway, do you?” Gabriel smiled. “Oh…of course; the cop.”

“I…I w…I won’t…” Adam growled, yelling right after as he felt the parasite jab itself into his back.

“Won’t what, Murray? Don’t you remember?” Gabriel said. “You’re mine. You are under my control…I’d recommend you don’t forget that…lest you regret it.”

Adam shut his eyes tight, clenching his teeth before he suddenly felt the parasite stop moving, as if it abruptly fell back asleep. The mandibles retracted, the sudden lack of pain making Adam fall onto his side, lying on the ground as he gasped and coughed. Gabriel stood up straight, the tall “nun” approaching them and standing by their side, her gaze also fixed on Adam’s form. “Tick tock, Murray.” Gabriel said. “My patience is waning. If you refuse to uphold your end of the deal…I’ll make you do it instead. You have so much potential…don’t waste it.”

Adam shook, drenched in a cold sweat as he watched Gabriel and the “nun” disappear, the candles blowing out and plunging the church in darkness. Adam couldn’t make himself move, curling into himself as tears ran down his cheeks. He wanted to tear Gabriel apart; limb by limb. He wanted to tear the smile off of its face and see its wings pinned to the wall. However, despite the rage in his heart, he wondered if it was worth resisting. He shook off the thought, shakily and weakly pushing himself onto his feet, stumbling a couple steps before he looked down the hall, his breathing harsh. His brows furrowed, his fists curling up tight enough to make his knuckles pop.

As long as there was time on the clock, there was time to fix things. All he needed was help, and soon. Tick tock, Adam. Tick tock.

#mandela catalogue #tmc #mandela prophet #adam murray #sarah heathcliff #alternate gabriel #tmc preacher #tmc six #body horror #blood tw #religious imagery cw #shmorp writes sometimes #I don't know what possessed me to write this cause. the motivation was. so sudden-#Literally stayed up until 2 AM last night writing this. was it worth it? actually yeah kinda #Adam you big dumbo you can't just go up to basically satan themself asking for a damn favor-#Here's me back on my bullshit. being fixated on my own aus. /lh #also yes I'm aware. 10/10 titles for my fics. so cool so. descriptive- /s #Prophet Adam (tmc)

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keicordelle · 5 days

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Things are starting to get just a little bit spicy up in here! (Don't worry, they're going nowhere fast, we've got at least another 6 chapters of fluff and fretting before the two of them get their act together enough to do anything more than kiss and blush.) Chapter 14 of A First for Everything, Off the Beaten Path, is up on Ao3!

Read it on Ao3 at the link above, or check out the first chapter on Tumblr here.

The light filtering through the windows made for a dappled display against the map spread out over the coffee table. Shadowy spots danced over the carefully marked routes and hideaways. It might have been distracting, had Thancred actually been studying the map as closely as he pretended.

Instead, his eyes drifted sightlessly over the patterns, his own cramped handwriting blurring into illegible blotches. Worry gnawed at his stomach and clattered like pixie wings through his skull. This was a really bad idea, wasn't it? The longer he thought about it, the more certain he became that this was one of the worse ideas he’d had in recent memory. He’d agreed to it in the moment in part because, well, he would probably agree to just about anything Urianger asked of him at the moment. And in part because he was worried that if he said no, Urianger would just make the trip himself. Which...

He would be fine, probably. Almost certainly. He'd clearly traveled here on his own, and he wasn't some damsel in need of constant protection. He could take care of himself when he needed to. Thancred had been impressed recently, watching how adept Urianger had become at his divining magicks. But if something were to happen to him when Thancred had just stayed back and let him go off on his own, he'd never forgive himself.

But... Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring Minfilia back into Eulmore's reach. Not when they'd just lost their trail. They’d fought so hard to get away from them. If they were to draw their attention again, it would mean returning to life on the run, dodging scouts and armed soldiers on scant hours of sleep.

...It would mean having to leave behind the comfortable routine they'd established here. Leave behind the soft blankets and the real food and the solid roof over their heads. Leave behind Urianger. And.... Thancred didn't want to leave.

Hells. He dragged a hand harshly through his hair, and when that wasn't enough, down over his face, lips catching on the rough drag of callouses. They were going to have to leave eventually. That was always the plan. They couldn't stay here indefinitely, no matter how comfortable it had grown to be. It wasn't fair to Urianger to impose so long on his kindness, and it wouldn't help Minfilia. Thancred was supposed to be training her, helping her become something more, not relaxing in the fae lands with his new— his new.... Arg. His friend. Urianger. Who he happened to kiss. A lot. And think about constantly. And spill himself almost nightly to the thought of. Gods this was dangerous. And stupid. Maybe he really should just leave.

Soft footsteps and the shush of robes around slender ankles drew his head up like a dog who smelled a treat. Urianger's eyes landed on him, golden and kind. He paused, head tilted in that familiar way that used to simply mean "elezen" but now just screamed "Urianger." "Is aught amiss?" Urianger asked.

And suddenly, miraculously, nothing was. The familiar melody of his voice washed away all of Thancred’s troubles in an instant, and suddenly everything felt right — and that in and of itself was wrong. Urianger shouldn't be able to do that to him, to make everything feel better just by walking into the damned room. Nothing should be able to distract him as much as Urianger did.

Thancred merely shook his head, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. "No, I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache," he assured him.

Urianger looked as if he wasn't entirely convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he brushed his fingers against through Thancred’s bangs as he passed, glancing furtively both ways before stooping to press a quick kiss into his brow. Pink tinted his ears as he pulled back, turning quickly away to return his attention to his task.

Thancred watched him as he moved about the room, gathering the things he thought he would need for their trip, lost in his own world as he contemplated two different canisters of tea leaves. Slowly, the worry crept back in to gnaw at Thancred’s thoughts, the small smile Urianger’s kiss had raised to his lips slipping away. He really, really didn't want to give this up, but... If he brought Eulmore's forces down on Urianger’s head because he was too selfish to leave, he would never forgive himself.

"Urianger?"

"Mm?" he answered without looking up, distraction blanketing his tone as he set one jar back on the shelf.

"I've been thinking... Maybe I should leave. Once we're done at the Crystarium. Maybe it's time that Minfilia and I go our own way."

There was a clatter as the tea hit the floor. Urianger didn't even try to pick it up as he turned to Thancred, his face contorting as he struggled to hide the distress that so clearly painted itself across his features. His mouth opened and closed, once, twice, soundlessly. Then, quietly: "I... would prefer if thou didst not. I... I wish thee to stay. Here. With me. Just for a short while longer?"

Watching the shadows that flitted within his aureate eyes, Thancred could have kicked himself for even suggesting it. He felt rather like he'd just punched a puppy, his heart aching in his chest in a way he'd never felt before. He fought the urge to grip it, to reassure himself that the sensation was all in his head. "If something happens though while we're out, we won't have a choice. I won't risk bringing Eulmore's forces to your door." Never mind the fact that a handful of moons ago, he'd been all too willing to take that risk. Desperate for somewhere to stay and someone to turn to.

Across from him, Urianger swallowed hard, feeling the lump in his throat all the way down to where it settled like a stone in his stomach. He'd known that Thancred would have to leave eventually. That was always his plan. That he'd stayed even this long was nothing short of a miracle. But... Urianger had grown greedy. Avarice clutched at him like a dragon's claws. Demanding. Desirous. He wasn't ready to give up the tentative intimacy that bloomed between them. He wanted to spend more time at Thancred’s side. "Perhaps I could simply come with you, if that is the case. Thou couldst use a healer to assure thy safety."

"No!" Thancred barked, a little too quickly. A little too vehemently. The tentative hope that had begun to unfurl beneath Urianger’s breast withered. He couldn’t supress the expression that twisted his features before it broke across his face, hurt welling in his chest.

Thancred flinched, back pedalling. "It would be too dangerous, to have so many of us in once place. Better to have allies tucked away than to travel together. For now, at least. Besides, your research is too important to give up, and you could hardly do that on the road. That's the whole reason we're taking this risk in the first place."

Urianger’s teeth worried at the inside of his cheek, eyes falling from Thancred’s face. Much as he would have liked to, he couldn't argue with that.

Thancred softened, casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure they were alone before he held out a hand to Urianger. "Come here."

An offer Urianger could never resist. He went to him in a shush of robes, the tea cannister abandoned on the floor behind him. Thancred's hand closed around his, drawing him down into an embrace. His arms were gentle around him, a quiet strength in his fingers as they stroked along the exposed skin of Urianger’s back. Chains tinkled as he caressed upwards, over Urianger’s shoulder to rest his palm against his cheek, cupping his face tenderly. Thancred’s thumb brushed out across his jaw, the warmth in his eyes mirrored by the warmth of his body, seeping into Urianger’s skin where Thancred’s leg pressed tight against his.

Thaliak preserve him, he was practically sitting in Thancred’s lap, tugged down onto him when he'd drawn him into his arms. This close, Urianger could see every fleck of green and gold in Thancred’s eyes. Could feel the brush of his breath against his lips. The hard lines of his body beneath him, soft skin and dense muscle and warmth, so much warmth. Urianger’s pulse quickened, his heart racing beneath his breast as heat spilled through his cheeks and out along his ears. Surely Thancred would be able to feel it, thundering against his chest. Urianger’s eyes dipped to his lips, plump and inviting before him.

He couldn't say who leaned in first. They met somewhere in the middle, Thancred’s lips ghosting against his in the softest of kisses, sweet and chaste. A gentle brush, then another. Just a pressing of lips, nothing more.

He could say for certain that Thancred was the one who deepened the kiss. Lips parting and tongue sweeping out to tease at the seam of Urianger’s mouth in a silent request. He opened for him, as readily as he always did, allowing Thancred in to taste him. Thancred’s tongue slid along his, curling along his lips, his teeth. Urianger’s head tilted to allow him in deeper, mouth moving on Thancred’s as his hands rose to tangle in his hair, holding him to himself.

Urianger could also say for certain that he was the one who pushed for more. Gentle brushes became more heated, the thrum of Thancred’s pulse echoing through Urianger’s chest as he pressed closer, pushing forward against him until his back pressed into the cushions, Urianger’s knees framing his hips and their bodies pressed flush. He could feel the heat of Thancred’s skin bleeding through their clothes, could feel the way he shifted against him. Could feel the hard dig of something against his stomach, pressed tight against his naval. Was that his—?

Blood rushed to Urianger’s face, fluster making his tongue clumsy against Thancred's.

Yes, that was definitely what he thought it was, digging into his stomach. It wasn't the first time he'd felt it when they kissed, but it wasn't usually so close. Usually Thancred played it off, or he shifted his hips so Urianger didn't have to feel it, but this... It was... curious. Intriguing.

Urianger’s own body stirred in response, thoughts swimming from the depths of his passion-addled brain. Thoughts of what lay beneath the tight grip of those trousers. Thoughts of what it might looked like — what Thancred might look like, with his jacket and his pants decorating the floor rather than his body. How it might feel to press his bare skin against Thancred’s, to feel those hands on him as Urianger kissed him. To... Touch him? No— That was— He couldn't—

Urianger drew back, his tongue a leaden weight in his mouth and his ears burning hot enough to melt snow. Where on earth had those thoughts come from? His eyes dropped, away from Thancred’s face and down to focus on the sculpted lines of his stomach. And yet, despite himself, his gaze was drawn inexorably downwards to the catch on Thancred's groin. Not, of course, because he was picturing what lay beneath the cover of cloth and leather. He simple could not bear to look Thancred in the face while his own body raged with a slithering heat that coiled and gathered beneath his robes. Urianger’s pulse throbbed between his legs, distracting and insistent, and his fingers twisted in the fabric of his robes. Please no. Calm down. Go away!

Thancred followed Urianger’s gaze down to his own lap. Surprise jolted through him, redness spilling bright up his ears as his eyes darted back up to Urianger’s face. "Shit, Urianger. I'm sorry, it just— it just happens, you know. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I— please don't run away."

It had been a consideration. He forced himself to stay, despite the antsy twitch of his legs. How could Urianger express to him that it wasn't Thancred that made him wish to flee? It was a natural response, full well did he know that. He was not unimmune himself to the natural course of biology; he was familiar enough with the body’s automatic response to such... stimulating situations... But the way that his own blood raced, his mind filling with thoughts of kissing Thancred, of holding him, of... "It's— I know. Mine apologies. Pray forgive my response, I simply— I'm not—"

Seemingly assuaged that Urianger wasn't going to flee despite the tension that still sung through his legs braced where they around his hips, Thancred softened. He reached up to brush a hand along Urianger’s face — not holding, just touching, allowing Urianger to move away if he wished. Allowing him the opportunity to run, even if he hoped he wouldn't. "Hey," he said, his voice soft and soothing as he drew Urianger’s attention back to him. "I know you're not. It's okay, it doesn't mean anything, really."

Urianger merely nodded, not quite able to bring himself to look up and meet Thancred’s gaze, no matter how reassuring those steady hazel eyes would be. Not when his smalls were still uncomfortably tight beneath his robes, rubbing against his skin in all the wrong ways. His hands fisted in his robes, grateful that the heavy fall of fabric hid it from view.

Thancred's thumb stroked along his cheek, gentle and soothing. He scratched lightly at the edge of Urianger’s beard, the pleasant shift of the hair beneath his finger tingling along Urianger’s skin. A welcome distraction from other, less pleasant tinglings. Slowly, the sensation faded, and with it, the tension leeched from Urianger’s body until he was able to meet Thancred's eyes.

Thancred was watching him warmly, waiting, a reassuring smile on his lips. "There, that's better," he said. He leaned in and Urianger braced himself for another kiss, but Thancred’s lips landed instead in the tip of his nose: a quick, light brush. His lips were damp from their earlier kiss, softened by their shared saliva as they ghosted against Urianger’s skin.

Urianger’s heart caught in his throat, snatching his breath to reside there with it. That was a new kiss. Of all the places Thancred’s lips had touched, they had never touched him there. His mouth, his cheek, his brow, but never his nose. It was different from the others. Lighter. Sweet and cute and playful and... Affectionate.

Not that kissing Thancred wasn't always affectionate; the mere act of kissing necessitated affection. But this was different, somehow. More like the stroke of a thumb up the back of his hand while their fingers twined, or the caress of fingers through his hair while Thancred helped lull him to sleep. Like....

Like the countless little gestures Thancred doted upon him each and every day. A hand on his back when he was stressed. The bump of a knee beneath the table. A mellow voice reminding him to stretch out his back and asking if he'd eaten. Thancred’s every gesture was full of that same sort of soft affection. How long had he looked upon Urianger so, with that delicate warmth in his gaze, without his notice?

Urianger’s eyes lifted to meet Thancred’s, seeing as if for the first time the way the light haloed his features in a gentle radiance. The way his eyes softened at the corners as he looked at him. The private smile that graced his lips, the one he shared only with Urianger and none other. It widened as he reached forward, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Urianger’s ear. "What do you say we finish getting ready for this trip. Best be prepared for anything, right?"

Urianger could only nod, the swell of emotion beneath his breast staying his tongue. Oh. So that's what I've been feeling all this time.

[Kofi/Commissions]

#posts to ao3 - comes to tumblr to make post - immediately forgets what i titled the damned chapter and has to go back and check #someday i'll make up a master list for this fic. hopefully some day soon #I wasn't really expecting it to be as long as it's getting and tracking down the past chapters to link to is getting to be frustrating #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #thanuri #urithan #thancred #urianger #ffxiv fanfiction #first for everything #my writing #~k

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stuck-in-the-ghost-zone · 5 days

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TRANCH TRADE TRANCH TRADE TRANCH TRADE. throwing this at ur helmet so it bounces off in a goofy way

YAYYYYY TRANCH TRADE I LOVE IT HERE IN THE MUD AND GOOP AND BLOOD AND VISCERA!!!!!!!!

ohhhhh winnebago descriptions....... i loooove the winnebago i love the "living in their car and shitty motels bc they have nowhere else to go and are also on a huge fucked up road trip" energy..... ohhhh vyncent pov save me vyncent pov. see now you have to write a dakota pov to complete the set. 3 of them do not separate !!!!!

DESPERATELY SCROUNGING AROUND IN THE MUD for bits of my william fic i can share with you that arent MASSIVE fucking spoilers. hes going thru it a little . also this is insanely unedited bc i have just been writing it in little bursts at midnight+ :

alsooooo a little tiny bit of trickster dialogue from the mark nightmare fic (WHICH. BTW. is officially the longest thing I have written for fun in the last like 3 or 4 years holy shit. i officially crossed the 3k word threshhold yesterday everyone cheer and clap) :

#keeping this part in the tags bc im at work and i know im gonna fuck up the wordinf here but #i loooove already the stark difference between the vibes of this fic and your last one #like. quiet contemplative driving down a road while your friends are asleep in the back type sad vs the.#covered in dried blood and goop and still shaking from the adrenaline crash and actively going through shock type sad.#ur really good at capturing those feelings in a short number of words #ANYWAY. its soooo fun here in the trenches. i say looking like i just ripped a man in half with my bare hands. absolutely fucking drenched #friends!!!#friend art #fics #asks #intertexts #I LOVE TRANCH TIME #i have this disease that doesnt let me write fics that are longer than 2000 words. whats up with that.#. ill be writing for hours and be like DAMN that was a lot!! and then check the word count only for it to be like.... 500

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artemis-in-space · 6 months

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I literally don't care what you ship in One Piece as long as you get the dynamic right

#one piece/ one piece art is my life blood #I need it to live #I personally don't like zosan At All but I'll reblog your art if I like the style or you get the dynamic right #I'm not that into Luffy x Zoro but basically everyone who draws/writes it has gotten them perfectly so fuck it like kudos reblog #honestly if Luffy ends up with anyone I'll be disappointed cause I project onto him so hard #but you're all right. aroace people can be in relationships and so long as he be acting like luffy I don't give a shit #I actually LOVE Law x Luffy. its my go to Luffy ship #but I realised a while back its cause Law is 'my type' and Luffy is the character I am most like #plus they cute together and I love enemies to lovers where only one of them thinks they were ever enemies #I don't understand a Lot of the reasoning behind most ships in one piece but god damn do I like your art style #I've read so many fics where crew members are together that I'm like. hm weird. but like you got the crew dynamic So Perfect I literally do #..not care its going in the bookmarks #one piece #artemisposting

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felixvanhuss · 8 months

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The chronic illness really be chronic illnessing today

#chronic illness #chronic pain #felix speaks #both my heart and my back are making life hell today and it's not even 11am yet #gods i'm so tired #my heart hasn't acted up this bad in a while actually #if I end up needing to go to the hospital I will be fucking pissed #I've got whumptober fics to write damn it! also I hate being in the hospital especially if it's overnight or w/e

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sleepy-crypt1d · 1 year

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people dont write wheatley mean enough, ive decided. like, he's an asshole. that's a huge part of his character. YES he is also pathetic and a fucking loser who i could drop kick.

that's why he's an asshole.

he's mean and self-centered and uncaring because that is how he has always been treated.

he frequently calls you brain dead, he throws out the idea of turning you in to GLaDOS' so he can live, he spends a full minute insulting children and calling manual laborers stupid - because that's how he's been treated. he was made to be stupid, he was abandoned by his creators because they didn't care, and then he's insulted time and time again by being called a moron when, if you actually look at the game from his perspective, he's the one who's did all the work!!

he has been kicked, insulted, almost killed and ignored his entire life no SHIT he's more than happy to turn those exact same actions onto other people without any sort of care for their feelings. no one's ever cared for his?? so why should he??

people either have him as a stammering uwu little baby who's either completely helpless or a creep or they make him super over confident when he's neither. yes, he stutters and yes there are times he's embarrassed but that's because he overthinks and has a hard time putting things into words. he is fucking terrifying, yes, but it's not because he's confident. it's because he's willing to do anything just to prove he can.

wheatley is so mischaracterized it hurts and it makes me so upset. this game has been out for ten years and i need my guy to be seen as the actual nuanced character he is.

#the ball deserves better #portal #portal 2 #portal wheatley #i love him!!! favorite character <33333 #maybe it's just because im currently doing a portal rewrite so i have to listen to all his dialogue and write it out and such but #damn most people just DONT get him #i do tho <3333 #he literally cries during his boss fight yelling 'this is the best thing that's ever happened to me! and you dont even care!' and no one-#-thought about it apparently #LISTEN TO HIS ISOLATED BOSS FIGHT LINES RN!!! GO!! GET!!#he has been hurt so fucking much - ALL he tries to do is help people and none of them can do that back. you cant even fucking catch him #HE SAVED YOUR LIFE and you dont even have the decency to catch him #OF COURSE HE BECOMES THE VILLAIN??? OF COURSE HE SAYS HE DEPISES YOU?? MAKE HIM MEAN HE DESERVES IT #let him be angry!!! STOP making him just this cute little guy >w< LET WHEATLEY KILL #it is 6am WHAT am i doing #will prob also make a post about how hes literally smarter than GLaDOS - he's not a moron guys trust me #he's dumb but he's not stupid #okay fuck ive ranted long enough back to my fic lol

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wheeboo · 3 months

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hii everyone i'm alive ^-^ sorry for being a little quiet i got sick LMAO. on top of endless uni work and horrible stress headaches :(( i was going to try n post something this weekend but was unsurprisingly couch ridden majority of the time anyway so i couldn't write djfklsjfds

#I LOVE and missed u all hehe #i was able to catch up on work despite the headaches soo #got rid of a lil stress off my shoulders ;-;#legit i felt like dying o mfg #im still sick . and i got a psych paper to write lets go 😔#but i want to write my fics fml #why do i write. questioning my life choices rn. i dont have enough brain capacity #this month sucks tho lmfao #how was it possible for my mental health to spiral from low to high and back to low in just 3 weeks. like damn 🫠#anyway i was only gone for almost 4 days its not that long but i still felt i went thru tumblr withdrawals bye #guess that does mean i'm rlly confined to this hellsite #rania rambles

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loser-brain · 1 year

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If you have not seen this post goin' around about not giving permission to allow people to take your work and put it into an ai against your wishes. There's the post.

Let's talk about this user's close-minded brain that they left in the replies.

The fact that they believed they are saying "Facts" is pathetic. They even answer a question from anon who believes they are saying facts.

Hey come here, have you ever heard of... plagiarism? It's a fancy word for theft. Especially in a creative field mostly used in writing.

My fellow lovelies, it's that time again.

THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO SLAUGHTER ANOTHER BIGOTED IDIOT IN THE CREATIVE FIELD >:D

Ai aka Artificial intelligence, what the hell is that? Glad you ask, I don't know, but in simpler terms, it's code that replicates and learns. The more you interact with it and correct its errors the more it will realize and perfect its code. IT'S NOT ALIVE. It's simply following a code that involves something along the line like us which is growth.

Using ChatGPT for fun is alright. Using ChatGPT or OpenAi to finish a story that is not yours... is not alright. That is where a line has been crossed. A line that violates Fair Use.

And since the majority of AO3 users are not putting their work behind a paywall, it still falls under fair use.

OH but it's a fanfic, we can do whatever we like with it!

WRONG. Fan-fictions falls under copyright laws. So in other words. Y'all are violating our rights by putting them into an Ai. get fuck.

BOOM! BANG! AND HERE'S ANOTHER THING! Ai, in the US, have to have the permission of the original author to have their work used in the testing to improve the Ai ability.

SO GET FUCK AGAIN

Okay now that the facts are done. Like I'm serious, it's done, got any questions, shoot me an inbox. Now we dissect this person's close mind dumb reply.

FYI, everyone is like, destroying this person. I'm serious, oof I do not want to be this person. I still kinda remember the last person that spoke dumbness, but about art. Remember that person, damn, they really got my blood boiling at like... oh hey, it's 3 in the morning... This must be fate.

SO LET'S BEGIN!

"I mean alright but at the same time, Maybe it's a sign you should finish your fanfictions 🙃"

Damn, someone has a lot of time on their hand. And as someone who does has a lot of time on my own hands, I still can't fully finish a fic. Wanna know why, because I'm tired. Like there would be days where my brain goes somewhere and I'm left with trash. I'm feelin' trashy, I'm feelin' moody, I'm even feelin' lost. It's normal to feel empty and want to fill it but don't have the energy for it. So maybe instead of being an ass to people and forcing them to finish something they can't at the moment. How about, maybe, you should stop being an ass and let people take their time 🙃.

"Like, if a fic has been abandoned for at least over a year, I feel like it's ok"

Everyone, repeat after me, fan fiction is protected under the copyright laws.

"Cause like, you clearly aren’t gonna finish it, why should it be left unfinished?"

Who's gonna tell em'? Anyone? *sees you raising your hand in the back, ignores you* Alright, I will! So like, do you not have imagination? Like do you not just, lay there in the grass under a big tree, letting the wind touch upon your cheekbone, and just... dream about the story. Like, don't you just read a volume of a book and just, imagine what happens next. Once you are done reading that volume of the book, don't you just anticipate what happens next in the story? Don't you have those moments where you thought about whether a character was going to die or live? Whether they save the day or not? Cause if you don't then damn, that's sad. You're sad. Like shit man, I'm sad but oof, that's even sadder than me.

"Now I don't think anyone has the right to post that work anywhere cause it's not yours."

OMG, I'M SO PROUD-

"But getting an AI to finish a work that *you have no intention of finishing* isn't really wrong in my opinion."

I WAS SO PROUD OF YOU AND NOW LOOK AT YOU. YOU IDIOT. Once again, say it with me now, fan fiction is protected under the copyright laws. So in other words, THEY CANNOT PUT YOUR WORK INTO AI WITHOUT YOUR CONSENT/PERMISSION. god fuckin' damn it. So close, you were so fuckin' close.

"If you are gonna finish it, make that clear"

HOW!? No, tell me how. How the fuck is someone who is using their free time to write a fic is gonna make it clear for you to understand that is their work and they get to choose whether they can work on it or not. Huh? It's fanfic, it's one thing when a users ask the author to continue the story because that is a thing that writers do. There is a group of people that would take over the fic and finish it for the author if the author just does not have time to finish it.

It's another when a user just blatantly takes it and shoves it into an Ai because AHAHAHA IT'S A FANFIC IT'S NOT PROTECT UNDER ANYTHING. WRONG BITCH IT COUNTS AS A FANWORK. Therefore it falls under fair use and copyright.

Writing is more complex to tell whether plagiarism exists in it. But we're no longer talking about plagiarism if you are just shoving it into an ai machine. You see, that is a violation of OUR copyright. OUR fair use. OUR work.

Oh but what about intellectual property? Are y'all putting your work behind a paywall? no, then it's fine. You still have the power to protect your work. So instead of believing this person thinking they are spilling facts... do a simple Google search. Is fanfiction protected by copyright law?

It's fanwork. Therefore, yes. Yes, it is.

Just gonna casually edit this: The commentators have learned what they did/said was wrong.

This is not a debate post. I'm stating facts that your work is protected and in the US you got to have the author's permission to put their work into Ai tech/machines. If you don't have their permission then it's a violation of their right.

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