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sagau-fruit-bowl · 2 years

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Hiya! This is me continuing on with my idea of what if SAGAU [Name] wasn't the one who made Teyvat, but instead the only 'god' who cared for it.

Part one

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[Name] had always considered themselves a rather average Genshin Impact player.

They leveled up as well as they could but it wasn't abnormally quickly, they found artifacts in a timely-ish manner but it was just as much of a pain as their friends had told them, going up in Adventure Ranking was a bit difficult but it could be worse, and while they didn't have the best luck on banners, it wasn't god awful either.

From as far as [Name] knew, everything about their account, apart from definitely having time put into it, was normal. And it was, on the outside.

From inside the world, it was far more than ones and zeros, life grew and with [Name]'s guidance, flourished.

When the Traveller had first felt [Name]'s presence, they weren't sure what they thought. They had felt feelings a bit like this before, but if they were being honest,they didn't like the degree to which their body encouraged them to listen and obey the tugs in their limbs, but they couldn't deny the pull either, the urge to give in scratching and clawing at their brain and skin until they felt their body move without the permission of their mind, easing the pain.

After that unsettling incident, that twin simply decided it would be easier on their mind and body to give in to each pull unless it would cause any harm, for example to Paimon.

They nearly drew the line when their words were influenced but the clawing feeling began in their throat and they spat out the words in an attempt to ease the pain.

To be rather blunt, the Traveler didn't like this feeling. Their first thought was that the feeling of them being used like a puppet came from a god, it wasn't uncommon for gods to take hosts and vessels, this was most likely the same god that had taken away his sister but the warmth felt different, less burning cold and instead sunlight on a cool day which makes the day feel perfect.

Still, the feeling was foreign and after they had gotten their twin, one of the few constants in their life, they weren't too fond of the idea of losing their free will as well.

However, it didn't take as long as you might have expected for the Traveler to change their mind as this unknown guide showed signs of care and compassion as well as the desire to assist them in locating the Traveler's twin.

The first time they heard they heard this unknown god speak, they didn't expect it at and almost didn't notice.

There had been faint whispered that the Traveler had associated with the wind or Paimon's clothing, but when it grew loader and changed tone,Traveler recognized it and they struggled to keep a straight face while meeting this 'Amber', the new sound from the whispers was laughter.

Traveler wasn't sure why, they hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation but if they were right, they had been asked what Paimon was… until their mouth felt that strange pull and they answered, listening closely to the words.

"Emergency Rations."

Traveler could feel a smile rising on their face. The energy from this god wasn't malevolent or serious, they were lighthearted, teasing with a laugh in the whispers that the Traveler felt all around their head.

This was a god that shared the Traveler's humor, a hint that working alongside them wouldn't be as miserable as they expected.

The god was silent for a while after that, occasional hints of chuckles or gasps would echo in the Traveler's mind, but no words and nothing as loud as the previous laughter, only noticed as they now listen very closely.

The next time Traveler properly heard the voice, they were in the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

Jean made a request for their assistance with Stormterror after the guide, as Traveler had taken to referring to them, not knowing their name, had guided their body after the dragon, driving him from the city.

Despite their annoyance, the Traveler planned to say yes, if the guide would allow it, when a voice cut through the warmth induced haze, the voice laced with frustration as it began to speak loudly and heatedly over how disrespectful it was of Jean to request the Traveler to assist them with their job, when the Traveler came to them for help in the first place.

The angry voice caused Traveler to jolt a bit, a headache beginning to make itself known as the guide ranted and raved in frustration.

Amber, the closest to the Traveler, felt a shudder go up her spine and a warmth follow it, similar to the feeling felt when she had fought alongside the strange traveler and Amber could have sworn she heard the curtains rustle, rustles that seemed rushed and fast paced and she began to look around before forcing her attention back towards Jean.

The Traveler for their part, struggled to keep a straight face and waited until the guide gave an affirmative answer and pulled them out of the room to allow a grin to fill their face.

They had tasks to do, they'd been give more things to handle but they wouldn't be alone.

This god cared about their issue and the world around them, cared enough to make their vessels stronger, cared for them, personally.

They had noticed Amber's behavior during the guide's voiced anger, perhaps she heard them as well, but did that really matter?

Paimon floated in their face, asking why they were so pleased but all the Traveler could bring themselves to say was "I'm not going on this adventure alone."

Paimon took this as a compliment towards themselves and they didn't bother to correct the idea.

They're getting their sibling back, they know they will, especially with a god on their side, a god who wants exactly what they want.

Or so they believe.

All [Name] truly wants is to play the game.

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Part three

Part four

Masterlist

Thanks for reading! Again, feel free to like/comment/reblog/send in an ask or send in a request! I'm always excited to meet new people!

Also! Question, Should I write the Traveler as being Lumine or Aether? Because they have different personalities in most stories and I want to figure out which one I should write.

#genshin x reader #sagau #genshin self aware au #Self aware Genshin #Genshin SAGAU X reader #Not quite god reader #genshin cult au #The Guide

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

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In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Six

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer and depression

Masterlist

Two months later, I sat in my doctors office and impatiently bounced my leg. I reflected on my past two months in New York. It was June now. Venom and I had fallen into a routine. We’d work on the Cletus Kasady start by day and go patrolling at night. Of course, being Venoms wasn’t a nightly occurrence. We’d only go out eating once or twice a week. Still, we managed to have 11 run ins with Spider-Man.

Peter and I had become significantly closer in that past two months as well. I’d help him with his homework, though I secretly thought he was smarter than me, and he helped me with my story. Some nights, he’d visit me on my fire escape and we’d watch the sun go down. I had no idea how he got there, but I didn’t care. I felt like Juliet and he was my Romeo. I’d send him science puns while he was at school and he’d bring me food and keep me company when I had writers block. My favorite was our long talks on the roof. We would I sit there for hours and tell each other everything. I knew all his secrets and he knew mine. Well, not all. He didn’t know about Venom. I didn’t want to tell him about her just yet in fear of his reaction.

And every now and then, we’d catch the other staring. Then, the other would I stare back until someone, usually Peter, started to lean in. Every time I thought we were finally going to take the next step, something would interrupt us. Whether it was May knocking or Ned barging in or Peters phone ringing. That was another thing about Peter. His damn phone was always ringing and then he’d have to dash off somewhere, leaving me with a random excuse or something about an internship. Sometimes, I wish he’d just throw his phone aside and kiss me.

“I’m okay?” I asked.

“Your scans were all clean. I know the tumor was genetic, but it seemed to skip you. You’re very lucky, Miss L/N.” The doctor informed me.

I knew this day would come eventually. Mary was my age when she was diagnosed with cancer. I just thought the results would be different. Considering my track record, I was a very unlucky person. But somehow, I was cancer free when my beautiful sister wasn’t. I felt my eyes well up with tears. This should’ve been how her doctors appointment went. I shouldn’t have had to hold her hand as she broke down on the floor and cried. We were teenagers. She deserved to live. I got in my car and wiped my tears on the back of my sleeves. I hastily turned on the radio. I needed a distraction.

“But what scares me the most is what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it? What if he runs the other way and I can't hide from it?” A sweet sounding country accent sang on the radio sang. I looked at my radio and read the title of the song. It was from the musical Waitress. I was never big on theater but the lyrics sounded as if I could’ve written them myself. The song was right. What if I told Peter who I really was and he ran away? He was sweet and understanding, but how understanding could he possibly be when I tell him I can turn into a flesh eating monster? I turned my radio up and listened to the song.

“What happens then if when he knows me, he's only disappointed? What if I give myself away, to only get it given back? I couldn't live with that.” The song sang. It was true again. What if Peter got to know me and was disappointed? What if he ran away before I even told him about Venom?

“He could be less than kind. Or even worse he could be very nice, have lovely eyes, and make me laugh, come out of hiding. What do I do with that?” The song continued. All those things described Peter. I felt another tear run down my cheek. Not because of what had happened with the doctors visit, but because of the loss of what could’ve been but now can never be.

“Oh, God what if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door and I can't close it?” Peter had opened up a door. I thought Andy was the love of my life. I used to think that if he asked, I’d be his in a second. But I didn’t feel that way anymore. I had finally moved on. I didn’t want to be with Andy anymore. I wanted to be with Peter.

“What happens then if when he holds me, my heart is set in motion? I'm not prepared for that, I'm scared of breaking open.” I silently cried as the song played. I was scared too. I was scared of letting Peter in and him letting himself right out. I was scared of repeating the mistakes I made with Andy. No. I wasn’t scared. I was petrified. I pulled my car over and began to shake with violent sobs.

I swallowed thickly. The song was bringing out new fears in me that I didn’t know I had. It was right. What if Peter didn’t like what he saw? What if he realized I was too messy to be with? Or had too much baggage? Peter deserved a nice girl. One with a normal family and friends. One without depression. One without a flesh eating symbiote attached to their immune system. My friends were my ex-fiancé and his new girlfriend, all my family was dead, Venom was coursing through my veins, and my mental health was ultimately lacking. Was I even good enough for Peter? Was I actually dumb enough to think that I was?

“What’s wrong baby?” Venom asked with concern. She cuddled around my neck and nuzzled into my cheek. I felt her tendrils wiping my tears.

“I can never be with Peter.” I cried. Admitting it felt like a fatal blow to the stomach. Venom tied my hair up with one of her arms and continued to dry my face.

“Why do you say that?”

I thought about it for a moment. I didn’t want to tell Venom that I was feeling insecure. She freaked out on me whenever I said something negative about myself. I didn’t wanna another 100 slide PowerPoint titled “why Y/N L/N is the baddest bitch in the galaxy”. Especially since forty of those slides were just pictures of my butt. I appreciated Venom with all my heart, but I was feeling the kind of insecure that a pep talk couldn’t fix. I needed to figure it out on my own. Instead, I told her a different fear I had.

“Because. Look at us. We’re the only thing keeping each other alive. What if we get separated and die? I can’t become one of those people in Peters life who loved him and then left him. His mom, his dad, his Uncle Ben. I don’t want to die and leave Peter behind. He’s been through enough. He’d be so much better off without me.” I said. I had calmed down enough to talk to Venom. She listened patiently.

“We’re not gonna die. You protect me and I protect you. Nothing will hurt us as long as we have each other.” Venom assured me.

“I can’t protect you like you protect me. I’m just a human. What if something happens to me and you die because of it?” I whimpered. Venom and I both knew I was nothing without her. She could move on and find another host, obviously not a perfect match like we were, but good enough to keep going and be fine. I, on the other hand, was just a reporter. I couldn’t defend myself if I needed to. I was her puppet. She did all the work in battles. I was just the vessel. I knew I was spiraling but I couldn’t get myself to stop.

“Nothing will happen to you, Y/N. I promise. I won’t let it.” Venom swore. I looked up at her and gave her a sad smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you either.” I said. But I didn’t promise it. I knew I couldn’t promise it. Venom didn’t mind. She nuzzled my cheek again.

“And you can be with Peter. On Klyntar, we mate for life. And I think you’ve found your mate in Peter.” Venom told me.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’ve become attached to him and will never be happy with anyone else.” Venom said. I let out a shaky breath. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I needed a reason to shut my feelings for Peter down.

“Like soulmates?” I asked.

“Exactly like soulmates.”

I thought about what she said. “What happens on Klyntar if someone is your soulmate but you’re not theirs?”

“Then we go into a cave and mourn until we die alone of heartbreak.” Venom said simply.

“That sounds about right.” I laughed sadly. I took a second to think

“I’m gonna call that guy back.” I decided.

“What guy?” She asked.

“They guy who asked me out at the coffee shop this morning.” I reminded her.

“The one with the stupid hair? Why would you call him?” Venom asked angrily.

“What was wrong with his hair?” I laughed.

“It was blonde. We like brunette.” Venom said with a devilish grin.

“His hair was fine. And I’m gonna call him to say yes to the date.” I said.

“Why would we do that when we love Peter?”

“Because if Peter doenst love us, I don’t want to die of heartbreak alone in a cave.” I admitted.

“He does love you.” Venom protested.

“We don’t know that. It’s just one date. I need to get back out there anyway. I haven’t gone on a date since the night before Andy and I broke up.” I reasoned.

“Fine. But this is a terrible idea and I’m going to complain the whole time and sing the Les Mis soundtrack in your head.” Venom grumbled. This was one of those moments where she felt more like my toddler than my symbiote.

I ran into Peter in the hallway on my way to my room. I hoped he couldn’t tell I had been crying. I gave my face a quick wipe down before I looked at him.

“Hey Y/n! You want to come over later and help me with spanish? I’ll amo you mucho.” Peter asked. I wanted so badly to say yes. But I had to stick my guns.

“Aw I’m sorry Pete. I wish I could but I have a date tonight.” I said. I instantly regretted telling him about the date when I saw the look on his face.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks. His heart sank to the floor. He went from feeling devastated to feeling white hot anger in a matter of seconds

“A date? With who?” He snapped.

“Some boy I met at the coffee shop.” I said weakly.

“Oh.” He said dully. Some boy. Some freaking dirty bitch ass sissy coffee boy asked his girl out. Peter felt like hunting the man down and smacking the shit out of him. Or at the very least, webbing him to a wall leaving him there until he missed the date. Who did he think he was asking Y/n out? Didn’t he know you guys were meant to be? Peter should’ve known though. Y/n was beautiful and it was only a matter of time before someone else asked her out.

“What’s his name?” Peter asked. He wanted to put a name to his new mortal enemy.

“Matt.” I answered.

Freaking Matt. Freaking dirty ass bitch ass thot ass Matt. Was Matt Spider-Man? No. Could Matt treat Y/n as well as he could? Mayhaps. But did he love her as much? No. Did he have inside jokes with her? Could he make her laugh her beautiful laugh just by doing a Captain America impression? No. He wasn’t good enough for her. He couldn’t do the things Peter could do. He was trash. He was a trashy dirty ass rat boy Peter thought.

“Interesting.” Peter deadpanned. Freaking Matt.

“I’ll text you when it’s over and maybe I can help you then. That sound okay, guapo?” I offered. He nodded sadly, not even acknowledging that I called him handsome. Actually, he probably had no idea that I did. He was smart, but only in English.

“That’s fine. I’ll see you later.” He mumbled.

I watched Peter trudge into his apartment and felt a pain in my heart. He seemed so upset all the sudden. It couldn’t be from my date, could it? It’s not like I told him I got engaged or something. It was one little date. Peter has never even made a move. He had no reason to be upset. I brushed it off and went into my apartment to get ready.

Just as Venom said, the date went horribly. We drove back to the apartment in silence afterwards, leaving Matt to clean himself off.

“Why did that happen?” I asked her. I was so mortified from the events of the night but I needed to know why they happened.

“Because he wasn’t your soulmate.” Venom said simply.

“We defiled that boy.” I nearly shouted.

“It happens.” Venom stated.

“It shouldn’t.” I said, shocked at how nonchalantly she was being.

“But it does.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. I shot Peter a text when I got back to my apartment but fell asleep before he could answer. I woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat and in tears. I didn’t know Peter was listening to my breathing picking up and the small cries of his his name in my sleep with his superhearing.

I had had a nightmare that shook me deeply. It was about Peter, like many of my dreams were. But in this dream, he and I laid injured on the ground. Venom and I were separated and I was bleeding out. I couldn’t do anything to save him. I couldn’t scream for help. And worse, I couldn’t protect him. It caused me great agony to not be able to reach him. I got out of my bed and made my way to the door. I needed to see him. I needed to tell him that I’d been in love with him since the day we met. I didn’t care about my insecurities anymore. I didn’t care about all the things keeping us apart. I only cared about him. I threw all my previous doubts out the window. I loved him. I loved that boy. With every ounce of my beating heart. I loved his messed up eyebrow and his baggy clothes. I loved the permanent bags under his eyes and his sweet smelling cologne. I loved his messy hair and his even more adorable bed head. I loved him in a way that consumed me. He needed to know that. I couldn’t wait another second.

I swung open my door, only to find Peter Parker outside my door in pink Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a tight white t-shirt. His hand was raised, like he was about to knock.

“Hey.” I breathed. His hair was tousled and sticking up in random places. He looked heavenly.

“Hi.” He said shyly.

“I was just about to go to your door. I had a bad dream.” I said. I was anxious to skip the semantics and cut right to the chase. I love you and I’m yours if you’ll have me.

“Yea, I heard. That’s why I’m here.” Peter explained. That’s not what he wanted to say. I’m always here if you need me. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. I love you. It’ll be okay. He looked at me funny.

She looked so beautiful he thought. Makeup free, hair a little messy, and nothing but an oversized sweatshirt to cover her figure. Peter recognized the sweatshirt as his own, one she had swiped from his laundry basket because she was freezing while they watched Alien. He felt so honored to know that she slept in it. Peter wondered how many times he could fall in love with her in a short span of time. In the past few seconds, he’d fallen about 15 times. Once for every breath you took. And you were breathing quite heavily.

“You heard?” I asked. How could he had possible heard from his apartment?

“My hearing is excellent. Are you alright?” Peter stuttered out. Please be alright. I’d stop anything that tried to hurt you. I’ll protect you from the storm. Don’t shut me out. Don’t turn me away. Let me love you. I was still breathing heavy and he could tell.

“Um…” I began. I looked behind me at my empty apartment. The darkness looked anything but inviting. I couldn’t go back in there just yet.

“No?” I said. Please dont go. It came out as more of a question.

“No? Do you want to talk about it-“ I rushed into Peters arm and hugged him tightly. He seemed taken aback, seeing as I nearly knocked the wind out of him. But as soon as he found his footing, he wrapped his strong arms around me and held me close. I relaxed in Peters embrace.

“I had a nightmare.” I repeated. “You died and I couldn’t save you.” I’d be dead if something happened to you. Never let me go. I need you. I felt like a little kid being comforted but their mother. Not that I knew what that felt like.

“I know. It’s okay. You’re awake now. I’m here.” Peter said soothingly. I’ve been here the whole time. I will never abandon you. You are safe in my arms. Nothing can hurt you now. I won’t let it. His voice was muffled from being buried in my hair. I pulled back slightly to look at him, still holding on tightly.

“Stay with me?” I asked. Never leave. I didn’t want him to go. Not now, not ever.

“Always.” Peter answered surly. As if I could ever leave you. My lips lit up in a smile and my eyes fell to his lips. They lingered there for too long, or maybe just long enough. Peter took the hint and slipped his hand behind my neck and began to pull me closer. As our lips were about to touch, my door slammed, causing us to jump out of each other’s embrace.

“Shit balls.” I said immediately.

“What?” Peter asked, giggling a little at my choice of profanity.

“I just locked myself out.” I sighed. Peter laughed louder this time.

“Come on. You’re sleeping over.” He said, leading me back to his apartment with the hand on the small of my back.

I entered Peters room for the first time. Sure, we’d become good friends in the time I’ve lived in the building, but bedrooms were intimate places. They were windows into the soul. Oh wait, that’s eyes. Still, most of my hangouts with Peter occurred in his living room, my fire escape, or the rooftop. Our spot. I’d never been in his room before.

I looked around with a content smile on my face. He had an academic decathlon poster on his wall, along with a few Avengers posters. Peter was pretty neat, but he was still a teenage boy. Socks and sweaters were strewn across the room. I saw him kicking a pair of boxers under his desk out of the corner of my eye. His room was so cute. It was so…Peter. I noticed a first aid kit in his desk next to his chemistry textbook and wondered what on earth he could be using it for. I looked at him and smiled.

“I like your room.” I complimented. Peter smiled in relief.

“Oh thank God. I thought you’d take one look at my nerdy ambiance and run.” He admitted. I laughed and my eyes landed in his bed.

“Star Wars bedsheets?” I asked. Peters ears reddened and he fixed his duvet to cover them up.

“Those aren’t mine.” He said quickly.

“Are they Mays? As in May the force be with you?” I played along. He gave me a defeated smile.

“That was the worst thing anyone has ever said. Ever.” Peter said. I laughed and he gave me a shy smile.

“Fine. They’re my bedsheets. Star Wars is cool, okay?” Peter defended. I took a seat on his bed and shrugged.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me Peter. I just didn’t know you were a loser, is all.” I taunted. Peter sat down on the bed next to me and rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. You’re the funniest person I know.” He said sarcastically. I nudged him with my elbow and he and hit me with a Yoda printed pillow.

“Mm. Good with the force you are.” I commented. Peter groaned loudly and told me to shut up.

“Enough playing around. How was your date?” Peter asked. I could hear the pain in his voice. He seemed really upset tonight. I regretted ever telling him about the date. It was a dumb move. It wasn’t right of me to play with his feelings like that.

“Oh, you know. Terrible.” I said slowly. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy. If Peter really did like me and want to be with me, he needed to say it. He couldn’t just grumble and wallow in self pity when I was with another boy. I was testing him to see if he’d ever actually admit his feelings. But I was also protecting myself. A part of me was still scared there were no feelings to admit to.

Peters eyes lit up instantly.

“Really?” He said excitedly. He cleared his throat and grunted. “I mean, really?” He asked calmly. I bit my tongue and nodded. I gave him my best sad eyes.

“Yeah it was awful. I definitely won’t be seeing him again.” I sighed sadly. I wasn’t sad. I was putting on a show for Peter. Peter bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from emerging.

“That’s terrible. What went wrong?” Peter asked. His acting was equally as bad as mine. He had a shit eating grin on his face. He was pretending to be sad for me but he was clearly over the moon.

“It was going fine all night until the kiss.” I sighed dramatically, looking longingly out the window. I might as well have thrown myself onto my balcony and cried out for Romeo. Peter was buying every second of it. I saw his eyes flash with hurt.

“You guys kissed?” He asked. His voice was heavy with disappointment. I looked at Peter sadly. He looked miserable. All I wanted to do was throw my arms around his neck and tell him he was the only one for me. Instead, I kept my feelings to myself and nodded slowly.

“Almost. He leaned in and-“ I just shrugged. I could tell Peter was on the edge of his seat. I dragged it as long as I could.

“And?” Peter asked, practically begging. I let out another long, dramatic sigh. Peter took a slow sip of his water bottle.

“And I threw up on him.” I said simply. Peter spat out the water in his mouth. He burst out laughing and did his best to cover it up. I gave him a fake angry look but ended up laughing as well.

“What?” Peter laughed.

“He was such a tool. He talked down to me the entire night and then had the audacity to try and kiss me. I don’t know what happened but all the sudden he was leaning in and I was throwing up. He deserved it though. He treated me like was an idiot. I’m almost glad I threw up on him.”

Peters was overjoyed. He was about to say something when we heard a straggled cry of my name.

Peter and I rushed to his peephole and saw a familiar blonde haired boy standing in the hallway.

There he was. Matt. Outside my apartment door with his phone on full volume playing “Hungry Eyes” from Dirty Dancing.

“What the actual hell?” I wondered out loud. “I better get rid of him.”

“Y/nnnnnn. I’m sorry I was a jerk. Please talk to me. I told the doorman we were cousins. Then I told the elevator guy that I was your husband. You may need to move now. Y/nnnn.” Matt drunkenly exclaimed. I covered my mouth with my hand to conceal my laughter.

“You definitely can’t go out there. He could have a knife.” Peter said. I gave him a look. Yea, the guy was dumb. But he wasn’t dangerous.

“Or worse.” I said. Peter looked at me fearfully.

“He could have the same loser bedsheets you do.” I gasped. Peter picked up me swiftly and threw me in the couch. I laughed in shock.

“Since when are you so strong?” I asked. Peter shrugged and held out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” Peter said. I raised an eyebrow and he quickly added, “In a non-sexual, platonic way.” I laughed at his stupidity. He was so cautious of offending me or making me uncomfortable. I appreciated how much of a gentleman he was. I knew Aunt May had implemented those qualities in him.

“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. Let me know if you need anything.” Peter said as he made the bed for me. I climbed in and patted the space next to me.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Get in.” I said.

Peter looked at me with wide eyes. He looked very unsure of himself and I could see the panic behind his eyes.

He was torn. He wanted to get into the bed, but he also knew you were vulnerable right now and he didn’t want to take advantage of you. He didn��t want to do anything you’d end up regretting in the morning.

“Get in, in a non-sexual, platonic way.” I added. Peter relaxed but stayed standing. I pretended to splash Peter and twirled my hand around the bedsheets as if they were water.

“Come on in Parker. The waters warm.” I said in a low voice. Peter shuddered.

“I am…repulsed.” Peter answered. In reality, he was dying to get in the bed. He wasn’t gonna try anything, he just wanted to feel you close. He wanted to comfort you and take the pain of the night away. Finally, he got into the bed and pulled the covers up. He shut off his lamp and we fell into comfortable silence.

“Good night, Peter.” I love you. I whispered, turning my back to him and cuddling into his pillow.

“Night, Y/n.” I love you. He whispered back. I felt his eyes on the back of my neck still. He didn’t want to close them and fall asleep. He wanted to stay in this moment as long as he could.

I soon felt hesitant arms wrap around my waist. Peter was very unsure of himself and kept his hands loosely on my hips. We were barely touching. I turned my neck around and looked at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded. His hands flew off my waist and his eyes widened with fear. He looked so apologetic, I thought he might cry.

“Do you not know how to cuddle?” I asked before he could blurt out an apology. I grabbed his arms and pulled them tightly around my waist. I held his hands in my own and held them flush against my chest. Peter felt really tense at first and a bit stiff, but he soon relaxed and nestled into my hair.

“You smell really good.” He muttered. I laughed softly against his body. Peter held me even tighter.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Y/N.” He whispered. He said it so quietly, I figured he thought I had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight, Princess. Sweet dreams.”

I woke up the next morning in Peter Parker’s arms. Subsequently, I wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of my life in Peter Parker’s arms. We were a mess of tangled limbs and hair. But I found myself firmly in his embrace, inhaling his cologne.

Peters eyes fluttered open and we were nose to nose.

“Hi.” I said. A playful smile rested on my lips. He was so pretty in the morning. He didn’t even have to try.

“Hey.” He chuckled. “This is new.” He added. I nodded.

“It is new. Is it okay?” I asked him. I didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

“Is waking up next to the actual sun okay? Uh yea, Y/n. It’s okay. You can sleep over anytime you like if it means more mornings like this.” He said. Of course he said that. He held all my strings and knew just how to tug them.

I smiled happily at Peter. He gave me a sleepy smile in return.

“Did you really not enjoy that date?” He whispered. Do you want to be with anyone else? I didn’t know why he was whispering. But the look in his eyes told me he was dead serious.

“Not in the slightest.” I answered honestly. Because it wasn’t with you. He looked me firmly in the eyes. I gave him a vague nod.

“Would you…would you want to go out with me sometime? I promise I won’t throw up on you.” He offered. He said the second part as if it was the only way I’d say yes to the date.

“Peter Parker I have waited exactly 64 days for you to ask me that question and you just had to ruin it by promising you won’t throw up on me?” I playfully scolded. Peters eyes lit up

“Is that a yes?” He asked excitedly.

“It’s a yes. It’s always been a yes.”

“Can I-“ he began.

“Don’t ask. Just do it.”

Peter leaned in slowly and I did the same. His lips had just ghosted mine when Aunt May knocked on the door. He bolted out of bed and I sat up.

“Breakfast is ready. Did you clean your room?” Aunt May called from the other side of the door.

“Yes.” Peter called back. I looked around. No he didn’t

“No you didn’t.” She said knowingly. She didn’t even have to see his room to know it wasn’t clean.

“I’ll clean it after.” He groaned.

“I’m coming in.” She said suddenly. Peter and I looked at each other in fear.

“Don’t! I’m naked.” He screamed.

“Fine. But it better be clean after breakfast. And put some clothes in. You should not be naked at 7 am.” Aunt May said. We waited to speak until we heard her footsteps walking away.

I got out of Peters bed as he got up to lock the door.

“Alright. That should buy us some ti-“

The second he turned around, he was met with my lips on his. I had my hands on the sides of his face and my head tilted to the left. I felt Peters eyes flutter shut as his eyelashes tickled my cheeks. He was frozen at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I melted into him and he melted right back into me. The kiss was short and sweet, but absolutely perfect.

I pulled away and Peter gave me the softest eyes ever. A grateful smile was on his lips.

“I am so over these interrupted moments.” I breathed. Peters eyes twinkled. The sun was coming through the window and made his brown eyes look like pots of honey. I could stare at them forever.

And then he kissed me again, with confidence this time. He wasn’t ready for the last one since I caught him off guard. I let my fingers tangle in the messy curls at the back of his neck, something I thought I’d only get to dream of doing. Peter groaned slightly into my mouth as I tugged on his hair. He put his hand under my neck and slipped his toungue in my mouth. Who knew Peter Parker knew how to kiss? He tasted like morning breath, speremint chapstick, and something I could only identify as being exclusively Peter. We pulled apart and he looked up at the sky.

“If I wake up and this is all a dream I’m going to fight you.” He said menacingly.

“Did you just threaten God?” I laughed.

“For you? Anthing. I’ll fight anyone for your honor. Jesus Christ can square up.” He promised.

“You’ve gone to far. We need to break up.” I kidded.

“Don’t even joke. I’ve waited too long for this.” Peter said as he wrapped his arms around me.

“I’m only teasing. I’ve waited my whole life for you Parker. I’m never letting you go.” I told him. He burst out in a smile and kissed me swiftly. Then he promptly got down on one knee.

“Will you please be mine, darling? Officially?” He pleaded softly. There was so much hope in his eyes. I pretended to think about it.

“Nah. I’m pretty busy with Matt.” I said. Peter stood up and gripped my hips, pulling me closer. I let out a small gasp.

“I never want to hear his name again. He had the privilege of taking my girl on a date and treated her poorly? He’s a deadman if I ever see him around here. Now, I need you to tell me you’re my girlfriend before my heart explodes. Tell me you’re mine. I won’t believe it until you say it. ” Peter begged. It wasn’t in a demanding, manipulative tone. All of his words were words of love. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

“Peter Parker, I always have, and always will be, yours.”

Tag List 🏷

@monimiin @truthdaze @honeyccoated @constellationswithapurpose @condy-wants-a-cookie @zipp0flare @vxidnik @maddie-laufeyson @bubblegumholland @the-blindwatcher @pmvelez97 @babymadz @sincereleygmg

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ganymedesclock · 4 years

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Okay so now that I am properly awake, I’m following this up with my actual understandings about these characters, summarized pithily. Probably gonna make this two different posts because when I go into character details it tends to not stay short.

With regards to PK- I have heard people say that they really like my PK characterization in fics, so, I can just kind of peel back the curtain and say that I write PK with several factors.

My reading and thus my recreation of PK boils down to an autistic individual who is extremely observant and detail-oriented, but also fails to acknowledge other people. He has abysmal self-esteem and is very okay with the idea of being hurt, if not actively inclined to self-harm. To PK, the most important thing is suppressing his emotional reactions, if he catches them. He wants to appear unfeeling all the time, and if he argues with others, he wants to deny them that he is emotionally affected.

PK also seems to be a very isolated character. He does not think that there is any world outside of the kingdom that he made, so he is obsessed with the idea it has to live forever. This all around implies someone who is very uncomfortable breaking patterns, despite being a brilliant innovative mind at his best, so this is an aspect of his character in conflict, or at least that tends to move at cross-purposes.

In many ways, PK is lonely and sad. He doesn’t like himself. But this, and his low self-esteem are contrasted with that PK also started as, and to a level continues to perceive himself as this huge creature interacting with things “far beneath him”. Imagine if you lived in an anthill, hanging out with sapient ants. Even if you put up a finger puppet and interacted with them, it would be pretty hard not to get weirdly smug or look down on them- because well, you’ll outlive them, you’re so much hardier than they are.

Now imagine if you were living in an anthill and using your hyper-sophisticated ant-puppet because every other human being was dead. Also imagine you didn’t really like your humanity, so, once you had your ant puppet, you chucked your human corpse onto the landscape and left it to rot.

Sure, you think, humans are real people. They’re better than ants. Would the ants be this smart unless you, a smarter being, was helping them? They’re worshiping you. They are in awe of the powerful things you can do.

But also, you’re lonely. Especially if you never even really got the chance to interact with other humans. Humans are better than ants, right? But the ants made it. The ants are doing great. The ants have families and interpersonal relationships, that they won’t sully you with, because you’re a grand powerful being. What do you want that ants have?

A lot, actually, as the dead body at the edge of the kingdom betrays.

So PK thinks he’s objectively a superior being. He thinks that this explains that he’s alone. That he has to be alone. He should be able to do things himself and muster whatever burden needs to be mustered, or build something that will.

The thing is, the Hollow Knight narrative calls him wrong in this way. We see, time and time again, that “unchosen” ordinary people can match pace with “higher beings”. These giant, powerful creatures have certain advantages, but so do mortals. The gods of Hallownest do not genuinely operate this untouchable higher atmosphere. They are large, they are powerful, they are not inherently more worthy.

PK succumbed ultimately to grief and regret, things that could trouble anyone. PK was obsessed with this idea of an existence without suffering because he was suffering most of the time; this is also why he was blind to the true nature of the vessels in a way. Because of course PK would believe Hollow, who has emotions, could choose not to feel them. Isn’t that what being unemotional is? You aren’t just like that naturally. You choose it because it’s your job. You build beautiful cold boxes and compress yourself into them until there’s nothing left.

Hollow would suppress themselves, and it was not cruel to ask them to do this, PK was certain, because this has been his own pain for years. PK turned out fine, didn’t he?

Except, on a level, he really didn’t. And he knew that.

Which was why ultimately the only thing he could convince himself of was sunk cost fallacy- he already paid the price, he can’t go back, he can’t tear the black egg open. He can’t try and find another way.

So like, bringing it in and summarizing it: My firm read of PK remains that this guy is a really intensely pressurized combination of hypercompetent and dysfunctional. Someone who can build terrifying supernatural soldiers like the kingsmoulds, and whose dreamscape yields mysterious, shining tools the likes of which are advanced anachronisms to the rest of the setting. Ogrim probably isn’t just blinded by nostalgia when he calls the pale court “a place of wonders”, and this quite well could have lent further to PK’s isolation and worship, how he seemed immaculate and hypercompetent.

At the same time, though, there is a terribly ordinary way that PK just did not get other people. Did not understand himself. Places his emotions slipped out because he thought he was making an unbiased factual statement with total certainty, that he is an unemotional being and it is just a fact that there is no world beyond the kingdom, even though wanderers came from those lands beyond all the time.

TL;DR PK has a case of gifted kid horse brain that ran horrifically rampant when exposed to his perception that he’s both more important than other people and also sucks and needs to just get over his shit and hurry up and be a perfect being already, and this all strategically set him up to hand all of his terrible coping mechanisms directly to his favorite kid and then have a crisis after this destroyed them.

#Hollow Knight #Pale King #readmore

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ares-golden-ram · 4 years

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So I wrote something on Hedy’s past and what ultimately brought her to Earth, it’s also on AO3 if anyone wants to read it from there here’s the link! I have proof read it so many times I can’t even understand if it makes sense anymore so please feel free to point out any mistakes!

The // sign at the end of specific sentences represents a time skip!

THE RIGHTEOUS (THE HIEROPHANT/STRENGTH)

I notice her the moment I walk through the golden doors of the Royal Hall, the corridor is completely empty except for us and I subconsciously hold my breath. I freeze in the presence of the right hand woman of the Monarch because despite this being a place of passage it feels like I've intruded a very private moment. The knight is facing a stained glass window depicting a flaming sun rising before a barren ground, she fits perfectly in the illustration as the daylight hits her metal body making it glisten in golden accents. I can't bring myself to talk, I've never seen the android on the battlefield but I've heard the stories, listened to every single retelling of her feats, one wrong word and I'm done for. She turns around and all I can do is stare, she's not as big as other war bots, the model of her screen is older but sturdier and on it her expression is ever-changing, the pixels reforming every so often to display what she feels. She's frowning, the line that is her mouth forms waves every time she speaks and right now her soft humming creates constant soft ripples, she's holding her sword in a tight, clawed grip. Her stance relaxes and a soft jingling sound catches my attention as she sheathes back the weapon. Electronic Escort Droids don't have antennas, those things are useless for such technologically advanced forms, yet she wears one, both ends are fused in her casing and in it a small number of silver specks can be seen, embedded in the wiring. Spoils of war, or even better, trophies. Sword shards, tips of modified arrows, bullets...and they say EED aren't vain. In her defense the whole planet sees her as the symbol of hope, the bringer of future harmony and peace, having a fake halo just means she fully embraces her role as The Guardian as everyone seemed to call her since she started to rank up in the military.

"Are you going to stare a bit longer? I have places to be you know".

I realize my mistake but my mouth is dry and I can't think of some reasonable justification, another moment passes and just when I start to wonder if she'll draw her sword again the sound of her laughter fills the hall, clear and sharp, like coins falling to the ground one after the other.

"Please, forgive me but this joke never gets old!" She says as she touches her chest, mimicking the organic gesture of needing air. "I'm aware of the moniker civilians have given me but please, call me Dee" she extends a claw in a very careful manner trying to look as harmless as possible, "I'd love to stay and chat but our Monarch awaits us".

ENLIGHTENMENT (THE HANGED MAN/THE TOWER)

The moment we are deployed on the battlefield I know what I must do, the few soldiers I took with me are my first objective, less than a dozen but they're the only ones I was able to recognize after their secret meeting. How could they betray our Monarch? He's a strict ruler but just and compassionate, he doesn't want this war any more than anyone else yet they accuse him, dirty his name while carrying his banner. I'll keep him safe, I'll kill the traitors and move on, the unlucky bastards should have been more careful. I unsheathe my sword, the only companion I can always seem to trust lately, and I get to work. //

She begs me, crying and screaming for absolution, she didn't know any better. I sink next to her, carefully fixing her hair behind her ear, the organic ones are always too easy to kill, too emotional.

"Why?" I ask, she's not a threat anymore and I need to know what could ever justify their treason.

"They talk! We...we spoke to one of them, Tix wounded one with a poison arrow but the venom was taking too long. He begged to be killed but we were too shocked to do anything".

"Nonsense, the Belkaith don't speak. And they sure as hell don't implore for mercy, the only thing they'd ever talk about if they could would be war and violence".

"I know it's insane but that's the truth, we were fooled! I ask you to read this, please-"

I strike her as soon as she reaches for her pocket, I don't have time for the blabbering of a scared traitor but unexpectedly she still moves, trying to save a few papers from either getting soaked in her own blood or catching fire thanks to my sword.

"I'm sorry". That's what she tells me as her eyes go blank, the papers fall gently to the ground and I extract my weapon from her body, the flames go out as soon as I sheathe it back in the scabbard.

I pick up the letter and instantly recognize the Monarch's hand writing, the fancy lettering and short sentences compose a threat. I recognize a few more names the letter is addressed to other than the ones of the soldiers I just killed, I guess his majesty knew of their treachery already, maybe I should have talked to him before attacking them.

Something's off, the more I read the less it all makes sense, the writing becomes more sharp towards the end of the page, sloppy as if he was in a hurry...or scared. I read the letter over and over again until it's imprinted in my code and all I can do is stare at the page, my mind completely blank.

I get up, store the letter in one of the pockets on my belt and start walking towards the sound of blasters and screaming, like a ship following a siren's song. //

I finally reach the heart of the battle and as I pull out my sword everyone stops. I turn around to check what caused the abrupt change and there, slowly lowering through the sky his ship appears, radiating a soft glowing white light. The first thing that comes to my mind is home, how many times did I sigh of relief spotting his vessel after a strenuous battle? Now that feeling travels all the way from my heart to my stomach and then to my limbs like fire following gasoline trails.

"My dearest, please come on board I believe we need to talk"

His voice sounds so comforting, so much so that for a moment I'm tempted to say yes, to climb inside and be saved from this nightmare, I want to hear him say it's all a misunderstanding, I must have gotten it all wrong! Except for the fact that he is here and that alone confirms the very awful truth.

There are so many questions swirling through my mind: Why? Who else is in on this? Does everyone know? Am I the only one who was fooled? I served by his side for years fighting for our people, how could he do this to me?.

If he's a monster then what am I?.

A blinding rage possesses me, the flames engulfing my sword creep higher and higher, my vision blurs with tears, I can't trust my voice right now so I do the next best thing to make him and everyone else understand. I raise my sword in his direction then turn it towards me and with a sharp motion I slice my antennas, severing the halo on my head. I cut down my puppet strings.

It doesn't hurt, the anger makes it all feel numb, the only thing I'm aware of right now is that I'm surrounded, enemies on every side and the only way I can leave alive is by fighting them until I can't and then fight some more. The message has been understood loud and clear, he doesn't waste a moment and immediately gives the order to kill me, the Belkaith yell in their ancient guttural monosyllabic sounds that I was too presumptuous and stupid to identify as a language and resume their assault as if the order was given to them, my companions don't touch me, they're baffled by the situation, shocked by the Monarch's words. I can't hesitate, can't repay them with the same kindness, the spell breaks as my first attack pierces the armor of a fellow soldier and everyone tightens the grip on their weapons.

"Traitor!".

"The Guardian has forsaken us!". //

My sword is in pieces, the legendary Maramakula is destroyed, the head of the sea serpent that was engraved in the handle is just a few steps away from me, I was a fool to think that I could face them all.

"What good is a knight without his sword?"

"And without a king!" they laugh, so easily turned against the one they idolized just a few hours before, I can't blame them. All of a sudden the same feeling of when I saw the royal ship washes over me like fire burning my every circuit. I cling to it this time, feel it rage in my heart and soon enough it feels like a volcano is about to erupt inside of me.

"What the fuck is she doing?"

"How am I supposed to know? She's disarmed anyway stop wo-" He doesn't finish the sentence, can't really, not when right in front of him the grass burns and the blood from the corpses of fallen enemies and fellow soldiers alike starts bubbling.

My whole left arm is on fire, the deepest red I've ever seen dances around my limb with a life of its own. With a reinvigorated spirit I rise from the barren ground, the sun shines its blinding golden light on my armor.

"Good thing I'm not a knight anymore, then" That's the last thing I remember before the overwhelming strength of this new power swallows me whole.

METANOIA (THE CHARIOT/TEMPERANCE)

I wake up in the little shelter I built in the last few months I've been stranded on this new planet, I have no idea what its name is but I've never seen so much green in a single place. I grab a clean pair of shorts and put them on, slowly make my way to the kitchen where I down a cold cup of oil, I'll never get used to the taste. Today I need to go to the stream and wash my clothes, then I'll get back to the fields, I've been trying to plant almost anything I could get my hands on in the meadow near the shipwreck but nothing seems to take. //

I'm still unsure of this whole 'clothes' concept, I'm not organic, I don't really need them but for some reason seeing me bare makes the villagers feel uneasy, so I humor them most of the time and only take them off when I need to do some heavy work, they're too constricting for my taste. As I'm hoeing the soil I can't stop looking at the ruins of my ship, barely visible from behind the thick foliage of the nearby trees, sometimes I think how unhealthy it must be to see the reminder of a failed past life every day yet somehow I always end up here, staring at this horrible monument perfectly depicting my foolishness, my anger, my mistakes.

The sun is going down, painting the barren field in reds and oranges, the colors softly shimmer on my body and the warmth of it all makes me recoil as the haunting memory of someone else, someone I no longer want to remember, tries to surface. I fall to the ground trying to make myself as tiny as possible, folding in on myself, I want to escape from this place I want to run away from it all once more. And then I see it, between the tears clogging my vision, a small sprout trying its hardest to grow between the cracks of the unwelcoming soil. The symbolism is clear, almost like a cruel joke from the universe itself, so I laugh like I haven't in years.

#haiga says #Hedy/Dee OC #object head

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cyberneticlagomorph · 5 years

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Resolution

Tension hangs as heavy in the air as your breath. Neither you nor the stranger moves an inch, gray eyes staring into arrogant gold as the world seems to stop around the two of you, the only sound is the beat of your heart in your ears. Your magic gathers and the crystal itches as spreads across your skin, but you don’t care.

The stranger sneers, lips curling over teeth meant to rend throats. You two are kindred, members of the same fae species. He a wolf, and you a rabbit. Historically, battles between those two creatures have never ended favorably on the behalf of the rabbits but when has that ever stopped you? He moves first and he moves fast, you barely have time to register the sword tearing itself from the door before it nearly gives you a new haircut. You dodge, but not quickly enough and end up with a fresh cut on your cheek. The stranger catches his flying sword and makes a show of wiping the blade before he points it at you.

“Last chance Witch, who are you?” he snarls, exasperated. Your ears flick back as your own lips curl into a cocky grin,

“The kind of Witch you don’t fuck with.” as the crystal claims your eye you can feel the distant pride of two Umbra Witches above the panic and echoed fury of your soulbonds. You don’t give the stranger any time to respond, power spiraling out to draw roots from the ground and send them hurtling at your opponent like earthen spears. In a flash of metal they dissolve into millions of perfectly sliced cubes that rain to the mucky ground below. You aren’t given a moment to contemplate what kind of anime bullshit you just saw before he’s going after you with that sword, its all you can do to avoid him and keep your footing on the slick ground. His blade finds your shoulder, only to glance off the patch of crystal growing there. You stagger back under the force of the blow and parry with your own rapidly crystallizing limbs. Your powers are useless here, there is nothing for you to resurrect, and anything you can manage to grow is too sluggish to do anything and quickly becomes mulch beneath that awful blade. You’re running out of ideas and space to retreat, he seems hellbent on driving you away from the house, just when you need to see Mr Tepes the most.

You find yourself thankful for the sullen remoteness of this place, anywhere else and this kind of duel would have drawn unwanted attention. Especially now that you’re spinning webs of thorny vines around yourself in an attempt to give yourself an edge. You’re fading fast, the crystal quickly swallowing what little flash you have left, its getting harder and harder to move, to dodge, to survive. The stranger spots an opening in your defenses and spears you on his blade. You don’t register the crunch of shattering crystal at first, until the taste of blood fills your mouth and splatters your lips as you cough. You wait for the taste of butterscotch to accompany a wave of pain but it doesn’t come. You’re that far gone. You slip on a patch of mud exposed by the scuffle and fall to the ground. The blade is embedded in your torso, not quite to the hilt but then again you could have pushed some of it out but falling.

The stranger stands over you and draws the sword from your body, it rasps against the crystal like it would a sheath. He doesn’t wipe the blade off this time and instead tilts your chin up with the tip,

“Now then,” he says, he’s not even panting. Like all of this was just a Sunday stroll to him. You frown, too weak to do much else. He continues, “What was it you said that you were? Hmm… Oh I remember. ‘The kind of Witch you don’t fuck with.’ he chuckles as if that were the greatest joke in the world. You have no reply really, only a vague sense of disappointment and annoyance that pushes itself through the growing blackness crowding the edges of your being. He says something else, something you don’t catch as a blur of red knocks him off of you and you fall headlong into the darkness.

Standing over your unconscious form is another you. Same hair, same eyes, same ears, paws, tail and so on. But she’s red and she’s whole. No crystal on her skin, no antlers atop her head, her eyes are solid black to match the teeth she bares at the stranger. Blood slicks her fingers and circles her in floating, fat globules like amorphous planets around a vengeful sun. Her name is Diamour, last child of the Lifeblood, rightful Queen of Wonderland, She Who Kept the Hearts of Her Enemies. You call her Queenie, she calls you Hers. Beyond soulbound, you are her phylactery, her lifeforce given form. Should you expire, so would she, and she’s not about to let that happen. The blood around her becomes a battalion of ruby needles that shiver like a porcupine’s quills before diving at the stranger like the loosed arrows of a hundred archers.

He rolls, becoming a wolf as he dodges. She raises one royal hand palm out and the stranger stops against his will, sliding to a halt as he howls in an agony that can only come from having every blood vessel in your body pulled on like puppet strings. There is no remorse in her eyes as she slowly curls her fingers and listens to his screams grow ever louder, bruises blooming on his skin, under his thick coat of white fur. She watches his skin seethe in pain, rippling between one form and the next as blood runs from his mouth and eyes. After a moment she grows bored and leaves him there to bleed, carefully lifting you from the ground to carry you to the mansion. Mr Tepes stands on the porch, eyes wide and haunted as she approaches, he kills her before she has time to speak. She is wholly unbothered by his actions and will respawn in less than a week. Dracula drags you and the stranger inside, and tends to your wounds.

You are left to soak in a bathtub full of the same medicine he’s been giving you. It drains the magic from your body and dissolves the crystal until that’s left is your bruised and tired body. You wake up sometime later, strapped to an operating table, amidst the adrenaline fueled flashbacks of your childhood at the lab, Mr Tepes appears and places his large hand on your head. You are shushed, consoled and reassured until you go limp against the cold metal. Your chest plate is open and likely has been the entire time, you watch him reach in and feel his claw pierce your heart. It doesn’t hurt, but you don’t like the sensation. He draws something, a Glyph you don’t recognize, and suddenly all the magic in your body is drawn into your heart, condensing and spiraling like a tiny storm. It hurts, but you don’t complain. Mr Tepes draws another Glyph and the pain subsides, your magic easing back into where its supposed to be. You relax physically, eyes half-lidded. He closes you up, helps you off the table, and into the den.

The stranger is sitting in the great arm chair in front of the fire, unharmed by the looks of things. You freeze, magic trying to crackle down your spine. He offers you a wan smile,

"That won’t be necessary, Father has explained your… Little arrangement.” he stands, making his way over to you and extending his hand “I’d like to start over if you don’t mind and offer my sincerest apologies, I am Adrien Tepes, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You shake his hand because its polite, not because you want to. You tell him your name for the same reasons and do not accept his apology, nor do you give him your own. At the earliest opportunity you steal the chair from him and strap yourself in for a lecture, one that never comes due to Mr Tepes feeling as though this ordeal was punishment enough. You ask about your condition and he tells you that its been managed for the time being, and you don’t have it in you to ask any further questions. You pass out in the chair for hours, ignorant to the. .. Spirited conversation between father and son going on in the next room. You don’t want to wake up when you do but people are worried about you and its seriously interfering with the contents of your dreams so you are forced to go home and put them all at ease.

You send selfies first, proof of your current status of well-being. You’re surprised when they decide to photobomb you. You don’t want to leave really but you’ve likely overstayed your welcome ages ago. You wander home like nothing happened and apply yourself to the nearest witch for a much needed cuddle and scolding.

#ic #ask to tag #long post #action post #awoocard #mr tepes

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tsw-story · 6 years

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Chapter 64 - Power Overwhelming

Five rumps were resting upon furnishings in Deena's living room. They were far from relaxed, no matter how comfortable the sofa was, because it was two twenty according to the clock that echoed with the clicking sound of a second hand. Not knowing was almost worse than a loss—how powerful was the Ley Point, would Eldrian be able to stop Tyreth from stealing it, what was happening now?

Kevin thrust up from his seat. “I can't stand it! Why didn't we go too?”

“I understand, though some battles do need finesse,” Daveon responded, and readjusted his cap. “Remember what we talked about weeks ago. It's dangerous enough that this many wizards are in cahoots, so the last thing we need to do is charge into another country as an army. Next time, Kevin. Next time there's a big demon stomping through the land, we'll fight it together.”

He cursed beneath his breath. His fingers toyed with the band around his wrist, and he tapped his toe in painful anticipation, but he knew that it wouldn't make the clock move faster. It was inching closer to the time the Ley Point would apparently make its appearance.

“Kevin,” spoke the calm voice of Arlandria.

Was she truly calm? Kevin eyed her over, and he thought not. It was simply how elves sounded when they talked, despite the scenario. Perhaps that's why Tyreth was so intimidating.

“You're sweet for worrying about him. But that also means you have to trust him.”

Kevin shook his head. “I know,” he muttered beneath his breath, and then he maneuvers himself back down to sit uncomfortably on the couch. “Thank you. I do know that.”

“I trust him!” Renatta burst out. “He did not die that time I tried to kill him, so I think he is quite talented at living.”

“Though it's weird to say it like that,” Kevin replied with a chuckle.

Deena wasn't occupying the conversation in the slightest. She had a hefty tome, the Nekonomicon, resting over her lap as she sat alone on a seat beside the rest. Her eyes never left the pages. The way she sat back, much of her face was covered as well. None of them were given the chance to read her.

“It's time,” spoke Arlandria. “Two twenty-two. The Ley Point is here.”

***

Eldrian had no comprehension of where he was—what anything was. There were only flashing colours in every direction he turned. His feet were touching nothing, yet he gave no effort to fly, and all of his exhaustion and pain was nonexistent. He felt no hunger, thirst, or sadness. He felt very little, actually, almost like his mind and body were numb.

The prismatic light around him was blinding. At least, he figured it would be, but he had no need to avert his eyes. He stared in awe at the beautiful display, but it wasn't long before he felt its effects.

The power. The unbelievable power. It was far too much for his small body to contain, and he began to feel the sensation of a pressurized bottle ready to shatter in the freezer—one someone filled too full with water before placing it inside. He felt like he could destroy mountains, like an atomic bomb was within his chest, waiting to free itself, though he also knew he couldn't let that happen.

If he unleashed all the power of the Ley Point, he could kill the others that were there, and maybe more. He might eliminate a nearby town, or even worse. He had no idea the strength of this energy.

Sandoval squinted open his eyes and gazed both in terror and magnificence at the glory of the light that had appeared before them. It was a sphere of rainbow up in the sky. Eldrian was nowhere to be seen, but the rest were forced against the ground by this sun's intense aura.

“ Dios Ojo,” he uttered. “It's gorgeous.”

“God damn!” shouted Whitfield.

“If that boy doesn't unleash that power, it will destroy him.”

“So what if he does?”

“Then we're all dead, I'm afraid. No spellbreaker can stop this.”

“What about that other wizard? He can open a portal—Damn! He's gone. The little snake slipped away when we weren't looking, didn't he? Classic Canadian.”

Tyreth's blood vessels were near bursting. He grit his teeth, and as he lay on his back, he stared at the massive ball of power swirling in the sky. It was supposed to be his, and worst of all, the person inside of it was a human.

His arms trembled. His breathing was rapid. Finally, he forced his body up into the air, forcing the thick air aside with a ward emitting from both of his palms. The focus required caused him to scream out like a feral animal, and given the fury in his eyes, he wasn't far off.

“This isn't over!” he yelled. “You're not stopping me now. I got my grandfather's sword. There's other artifacts out there just waiting to be taken, and I'll be damned if I let you take what's mine!”

Eldrian began to panic. He had no idea what was happening on the other side. The Ley Point's energy was welling up inside of him, trying to find its escape, most certainly in the means of mass destruction.

“This is too much,” he said aloud. “What do I do? This is far too much! Tyreth doesn't have it, but now that I do, what now?”

A noise of whirling winds increased steadily in volume, even if the air seemed still within his sphere. It grew along with the rising levels of power, and from the outside, light shot out the sides like crackling bolts of lightning to strike various parts of the soil.

He tried to steady his breathing. “No. This is magic. I'm a wizard. I write reality with my mind. No, my imagination. All I need to do is concentrate. If I can't overcome this, then I'll never be able to call myself something like an archmage.”

Eldrian took a few deep breaths. “If anyone's listening, I don't usually talk to myself,” he whispered, and exhaled deeply.

He needed to direct the power—his focus cut off. There was no longer a struggle against the power, for in that moment, he was one with magic. He knew what he needed to do, even if it wouldn't be a smooth ride. Eldrian the wizard seized control of the Ley Point's energy and moved it like a puppet—his brain pumping, and now actually aching despite what was happening before.

As he forced the storm from his body, there was still some resistance, but he tore it like a bandaid from himself. Though things were even stranger now. He saw before himself a shadow, and it was clearly his own, which departed forwards, like his vision was struggling to comprehend the anomaly.

It happened quickly for those waiting outside. Suddenly, the entire landscape was bathed in colours, like a tsunami of paint, and a beam of outstanding strength fired straight up into the sky. It parted the clouds above them. Tyreth, however, was being enveloped by bands of light. He struggled against him to no avail, and he felt himself being pulled away not to a different location here, but a different world entirely.

His body started to shimmer. Then, he vanished away, cursing Eldrian in his native tongue one more time. It all began to fade shortly after, leaving behind only a swirl in the sky, and Eldrian was hovering several meters above them.

Eldrian descended slowly into a cloud of dust a distance away. The rest groaned and stood, and not only were they still alive, but they felt better. It was like their injuries had subsided. Sandoval gave Whitfield a nasty look, but it was only them remaining now.

That's what they thought. Two figures stood ahead, and it was a man and woman. They appeared lost and confused. The last thing they remembered was the black blade of Tyreth, cutting them open on their date.

“Are those two them corpses?” Whitfield asked.

“Yes. I believe there were two deceased folks here from the beginning.”

“Where's that kid that did all that?”

“I think he's gone. I can't see him anywhere.”

***

“Eldrian!” screamed Kevin as his best friend stumped through the magic door.

He embraced him, and to their surprise, not a scratch was on his body. No arms were missing. He wasn't bleeding out. Even his clothes were intact. He was still garbed in his costume, though his hood was pulled down to reveal his exhausted face.

“What happened?” Arlandria asked.

Eldrian fell into leaning against the back of the nearest chair. “Nobody got the Ley Point. I think Tyreth is back in the Elf World. That's where I was trying to send him, anyway. And nobody saw my face.”

Daveon sighed and leaned back on his seat. “Thank goodness.”

“Now I just feel like I've been torn in half. I think I need a nap.”

***

Various cells lined a polished marble hall. Each of them was blocked by a powerful ward that was nearly invisible to the eye, even to an elf. It was like glass one could speak through, yet had no hope of ever piercing. This is where those went that disobeyed the law of the land. Murderers, thieves. They existed here, even in Heaven.

Yaelos rest his hand on the outside of the cell wall. It felt cold.

“So, how did it happen?” he asked.

The black-haired man was a mess. He sat on the floor against the wall, despite there being a bench a couple meters away. His calm demeanour fell flat, and his hair, despite seeming to be perfect always, was a bird's nest of loose strands and knots. He stared a piercing, icy glare from a single, uncovered eye through his bangs.

“He broke you,” Yaelos said. “Didn't he?”

“No. I broke a long time ago.”

Yaelos lowered his head, and the two remained in silence for an incredibly long time. The guards wondered why he stayed if he wasn't going to speak, but he remained regardless. There was finally a time for him to depart, and he did so without saying a word.

Tyreth spoke instead. “Earth does have lakes like that one.”

He went home, knowing he may never see that man again. But then he remembered that he lost his friend far before all of this. When he arrived, he saw the only thing he needed to see—the only smile that mattered anymore. Eldrian stood there with Arlandria beside him. The wizard fulfilled his promise, just like he said he would. He thought to himself then, that humans truly are fascinating.

#action #adventure #fiction #fantasy #serial #magic #wizard #writing #story

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