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monsoon-of-art · 5 months

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Donut Hole - Chapter 18

It's Alright

I got a baseball bat beside my bed

To fight off what inside my head

To fight off what's behind my meds

I'm lonely, lost in pain

It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay

You're not a monster, just a human

And you made a few mistakes

- It's Alright, Mother Mother

[hi guys :) we're almost done. Also if the format seems. Weird, it's bc I'm posting from my phone! Ao3 link might be delayed bc of that]

[ao3 link]

Barry just wanted to close his eyes for a second. That's all he wanted. Mystery was perfectly capable of flying on its own, he just wanted to rest his eyes.

For a brief, beautiful moment, he was on the back of his staraptor. He was back home. Soaring through the pecha colored clouds, the towns and cities below merely a speck.

And to his side was [____] on her Crobat. She smiled at him, as warm as the sun, and just as imperceivable as staring directly at it.

The moment didn’t last.

Because the next thing he knew, he was lying in a pile of broken tree branches with a hurt back, Mystery was loudly cawing, and some kid was yelling at them.

Despite being dressed like the new Galactic groups, this kid seemed harmless. Barry absolutely couldn’t say the same about the rocky behemoth that stood behind the boy, but the pokemon made no move to attack them, so Barry chose not to acknowledge it.

Clearly, General Irida didn’t brief this kid well enough.

(Definitely General Irida, because he was wearing pink. And a strange hat that Barry swore he saw somewhere else…but couldn’t remember specifics for the life of him.)

But the kid willingly gave him directions to Jubilife and let the two leave, like an idiot, so Barry did just that.

“Past…deertrack heights…” he repeated to himself, realizing he didn’t know what a ‘deertrack heights’ was. “...cross the river, then cross it…again.”

That didn’t make any sense. Maybe the directions were wrong, or maybe the kid lied to him. But Barry definitely needed to get out of this forest first.

The two eventually stumbled upon a creek, gently winding through the forest, psyducks and bunearies splashing in the crystal clear water. Combees buzzed around small patches of flowers, wurmples creeped and crawled through the underbush, burmies hung from trees.

“This isn’t a river…but it should lead to one.” Barry thought aloud. Then, he paused, turning to Mystery. “...let’s give you a break, bud. I think it might be a bit hard for you to follow me anyway.”

He recalled Mystery to its pokeball and, because he didn’t feel totally comfortable walking without a pokemon, he let Pest out of his.

“Hey buddy!” Barry cooed, scratching the side of the Mothim’s head. “Keep me company, OK? We’re looking for a river. And maybe if we run into any trouble with the bugs, you can let them know I don’t mean any harm, sound good?”

Pest chirped and chittered, fluttering around the boy affectionately.

The two followed the creek closely, Barry taking a moment to appreciate the calm of the forest and the fresh air. The pokemon seemed more skittish than he was used to back home, most fleeing from him immediately.

The exception were a few beautifly that flew over to examine him, but a few chirps and trills from Pest was enough to return to their flowers, uninterested.

Barry and Pest finally saw the forest start to thin. In no time at all, the soft soil of the forest was now the white sand of a beach, and the small creek flowed into a large river. A large dam was built over the river mouth, with several bidoofs tending to it.

Overseeing the bidoofs was a very large bibarel, it turned to the boy and his bug, pushing itself to stand on its hind legs, looming over the two with a snarl. Saliva dripped from its maw, its eyes glowing red.

Barry, at this point in his travels, wasn’t phased. He watched the bibarel with a tired expression, waiting for it to finish the threat display.

He reached into his bag for a pokeball, not taking his eyes off the enormous rodent. “Man, I’m not dealing with this. Snacks, take care of this guy.”

Snacks burst from its pokeball with a debatably fearsome squeal, pelting the bibarel with energy balls.

And Barry turned away, confident that Snacks could handle an overgrown rodent. He didn’t go far, just to the river bank, where the bidoofs fled from his presence.

He released Fern from its pokeball, and Fern - still under the influence of the hypnosis from that weird deer - promptly slumped into Barry’s arms, asleep. Under normal circumstances, Barry would love to let Fern keep sleeping, but they were so close.

Carefully laying Fern onto the soft sand, Barry scooped up a handful of water and splashed its face. “Sorry Bud, we gotta keep moving! You gotta wake up! We’re almost there!”

Fern sputtered and coughed, immediately sitting up and pawing at its face. It shot Barry an annoyed frown, and he sheepishly patted its back. “H-Heh…sorry.”

Snacks returned with a triumphant squeal, pointing at the now-unconscious bibarel, concerned bidoofs swarming around their leader. And at this, Barry smiled.

His pokemon were getting stronger. They were capable of winning battles on their own, capable of protecting themselves and him.

Of course, taking on the horde of Galactic Members that were likely on his tail was still a no-go. They had more pokemon, a defected Battle Facility Head, and Barry was fairly certain they’d find a way to cheat.

But this was good.

Now, Barry’s plan was to release his pokemon, have a quick meal, and continue their journey. But as he reached into his bag for Mystery and Jen, a tree fell in the forest.

And another. And another. When Barry looked over his shoulder, he could see the treeline shifting. Getting closer and closer-

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Barry began shoving things back into his bag, quickly recalling Snacks and was about to recall Pest when the thing chasing them finally broke through the treeline.

It was the rocky, insectoid behemoth from the woods, the little boy with the hat riding on his back. “There he is, Lord Kleavor! Prepare for punishment, troublemaker!”

Well, Barry wasn’t stupid enough to stay around to see what that entailed. With Pest clinging to his head and with Fern by his side, they ran. Splashing through the river, using the bidoof dam as extra footing.

It felt like all of Sinnoh was trying to track him down, at this point. Part of him was tempted to try and fight the thing head on, but when he glanced back, he could see ‘Lord Kleavor’ preparing for a charge attack.

“Outta the way-!” Barry pushed Fern and himself onto the opposite bank of the river just as the behemoth charged, smashing through the dam and crashing into a tree.

The ‘Kleavor’ took a moment to reorient itself, part of its rocky beak currently embedded into the tree it slammed into.

“It’s OK, Kleavor! Try again!”

“No-No, don’t, Kleavor! Don’t try again!” Barry said, already scrambling up from the beach and onto the more rocky terrain. His current theory was that this Kleavor pokemon could charge in a single direction, similar to the rampardos from before.

If he kept zig-zagging around, he should be fine.

Hopefully.

It was better than the group from before, that was certain.

"Stop running, scoundrel!" The little boy shouted, trying to sound as serious as possible. "You will face justice!"

Honestly, he sounded so…genuine. If Barry didn't know any better, he was almost convinced that he was doing something wrong.

He hadn’t done anything wrong…right? He just wanted his friend back, and Team Galactic was getting in the way! They were trying to stop him - weren’t they? They were trying to take over the world - weren’t they? They were going to kill him!

…weren’t they?

A horrible wave of nausea nearly overpowered him.

He had to be right. He couldn't afford to be wrong.

Besides, this kid was brainwashed by Team Galactic. Of course he'd get the facts wrong!

Kricketots and pichu scattered as Barry and Fern darted through the small foothills. He could hear the rocky pokemon behind them, stomping and smashing through trees to chase after them.

Slowly. Rock pokemon were generally not fast, and Barry thanked every God he knew for that.

They just needed to gain some more distance, then they could hide out and wait for the rock pokemon and the little kid to give up.

Then Barry could finally go to Jubilife. He'd finally end this. He’d punch Cyrus in his stupid, emotionless face, he’d fine him bajillions worth, he’d fine every single person working under him, he’d burn the place down-

Maybe that was too far. Maybe punching him was enough.

In the end, he just wanted Her back.

They were awfully high up in the hills now. Barry could see miles: the waterfalls, a Gyarados protectively snaking around the waters below, he could see a trail lined with unlit torches, a small bridge, and a tent.

But then he felt it. The rumbling of hoofs and paws against the earth.

Just up ahead, across a naturally formed land-bridge, the group from up in the mountains had caught up with him.

A screeching caw from above. The giant bird was circling around like a mandibuzz, the girl with green braids riding atop. "He's over here! Over here!"

Barry shouted the first thing that came to mind.

“HEY! SNITCH!”

Barry hadn't even realized he had stopped moving, only noticing when Fern began anxiously trying to nudge him forward. His legs had turned to stone. Once the feeling in his legs returned and once the adrenaline began coursing through his veins, he ran.

He thought he had more time! He thought they wouldn’t catch up that fast!

Maybe this was just his life now. Running forever. Team Galactic nipping at his heels for eternity.

Or until they killed him.

Barry turned, instinctively going back to try and retreat, only to be met with the Kleavor. It slammed its axe-shaped claws into the earth, bellowing loud enough to rattle his very bones.

Fern darted forward with an uppercut to the jaw, Kleavor stumbling back with a pained croon.

Barry started to cheer, pausing when noticing Fern wince and seeing sharp stones embedded into its fist.

“Hey, HEY! You hurt Fern!” he snapped.

“You ATTACKED a LORD?!” the boy snapped back, equally enraged, confused, and terrified.

That was the second time someone mentioned a Lord pokemon. The only thing he could think of were the Totem Pokemon from Alola. But they were meant to be challenged, weren't they? What was the issue here?

Every time he thought he had an idea of what was going on, a new, strange puzzle piece would spring out of the box and try to punch him in the face.

There was something different about this chase. The others seemed more…organized. Coordinated.

Barry's first instinct was to run down the mountain on a worn path, greeted with Irida and Gaeric riding Ursaluna. But when Barry tried to backtrack, the strange, white deer tried to cut him off.

Luckily, there was a tree Barry could climb on to escape, but he was immediately attacked by the giant bird. He had to duck and roll out of there to escape.

Upon ducking into a small crevasse, he was met with the long sneasel’s glowing eyes. It yowled as it approached, pointing at him with its long talons.

Barry bit back a yelp as he scrambled backwards, attempting to look elsewhere to hide. Every nook and cranny was crawling with the Galactic forces.

Before in the mountains it was a confused scramble; but this was planned.

He was being herded.

The thudding of hooves and paws and the yelling of Galaxy Commanders buzzed in his brain like a swarm of beedrill.

Despite all his efforts, all of his tricks, and all of his escape attempts, Barry had found himself being guided into an almost bowl-shape in the hill, the remains of a campfire and a tent laying in the middle, an enormous spire towering above.

Between a literal rock and a hard place, Barry reached into his bag and released all of his pokemon. The five placed themselves between him and the group slowly circling around, intent on fighting if need-be.

“You're not taking me." He said, voice low.

“You’re not exactly in a place to say that.” General Adaman said. “Come with us. We want to help you.”

He scowled at that.

“...ry!...”

Like being submerged underwater, every single other sound faded from Barry’s focus. The bickering between commanders, the various sounds of pokemon (both his and not), the very world around him; all drowned out.

Except for one, singular thing.

“...rry! Barry!...”

All of the air left his lungs in a shaky, wheezing breath.

The commanders had heard it this time, speaking quickly amongst themselves. Not that Barry could hear, nor could he bring himself to care.

He stepped forward. He stepped again. It was like wading through the murkiest of waters. Slowly stepping past the protective wall in his pokemon (much to their confusion) and out into the clearing.

“Baarrryy!”

There was a path that cut through the mountains, winding through the rocks with delicately carved statuettes on the sides.

He wasn't even really walking anymore. More stumbling forward, barely able to catch himself with the other foot before he fell on his face.

Nothing else mattered. Not the confused geodudes he passed, not the muffled calls of his pokemon, not the shouting from the Galactic forces-

Nothing else mattered.

Finally passing through the last of the hills and rocky cliffs, Barry saw a bridge. Made of wood. Unimportant.

Crossing the bridge, running at full speed, was a girl. She wore a blue outfit with a black sash around the middle, and she had a white covering for her head. Her long, black hair flowed as she ran.

She paused at the other end of the bridge, huffing and puffing, limbs shaking from the exertion. And she looked at him, a tired, hesitant smile on her face.

“Barry?”

Barry was thirteen. The police came to tell his mom and dad they were calling off the search soon. He had ran out of the house right then and there, despite his mother's pleas and father’s protests. He wasn't going to accept this. He wasn't.

Barry was twelve now. [___] had to be appointed as champion. It was really an excuse to throw a celebration, as Cynthia had explained, but it was still new and strange. He hated how he looked in a tuxedo, even as his mom fawned over him. [___] scrunched her nose as her mom squished her cheeks, praising ‘her little girl' for accomplishing so much. She had asked for Barry’s specifically, to stand by her side during the event, something that he was going to take very very seriously. A new champion doesn't happen every day! And once their parents had their attention elsewhere, he nudged her arm with a wink, and a promise to come fight her as champion soon.

Barry was eleven now. Pacing just outside of Hearthome. She was supposed to be here hours ago! What had taken her so long? He'd get his answer soon enough, when she'd sheepishly approach while holding a ralts. Oh, he was so mad at her. They had planned! They had arranged to meet! He was on time for once! He was never on time for anything!! But she could only hold up the ralts a little higher with a shy smile, and Barry had to reluctantly agree - that ralts was pretty cute.

Barry was ten. He held his new turtwig high into the air, smiling from ear to ear. Upon soaking in the feeling, the realization that he was indeed a pokemon trainer, he spun right around and insisted on a battle. [___] was hesitant. She wasn't totally sure if her piplup was ready. But he was quick to assure her that she was. They wanted to be trainers, right? And he would be by her side as her best friend and rival. If she was ever unsure, or ever scared, or ever alone. He would be there. And with that reassuring, she agreed to their first ever battle.

Barry was nine. He hated fourth grade. In order to prepare them for secondary school, he now had a rotating class schedule, and it was a nightmare. Now he had four classes! And all of them had homework! How was anyone supposed to juggle this?! And so [___] came to his home after school, choosing not to comment on his red cheeks and audible sniffles. She told Barry that she, too, was having issues with the multiple classes. But that was OK. This was just so they could practice for when they moved to secondary school. And she pulled all her books onto his desk, and suggested they work on homework together.

Barry was seven when his mom suggested he go over to her house across the street. He was greeted by her mother, warm as always, but there was a strange air he couldn't place. Her mother requested he go right upstairs, as she had private matters to attend to. When he walked into her room, seeing [___] sitting completely still on the bed. She told him, voice devoid of emotion, that her daddy wouldn't be coming back to visit. Ever. Even at a young age, Barry knew, intrinsically, that this was a grown-up thing, and that he couldn't solve this problem. Instead, he wrapped her up in blankets, made his best ever pillow fort, and told her stories that he made up off the top of his head until she smiled again.

Barry was five now, on the playground, trying to stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. He was a big boy now, his daddy had said so, and big boys don't cry just because the other kids on the playground won't play with you. He had always had an inkling that the other kids didn't like him; sure they tolerated him at school, under the watchful eyes of grown-ups, and yes, he received birthday party invites out of obligation, but the exclusion was still glaringly obvious and very painful. He was too loud. He didn't understand the rules of the game. He was too rough. There were so many rules. He couldn't remember them all. Then, a little hand grabbed his sweater sleeve. [___] held a bucket and shovel, and held it out to him, asking if he wanted to play in the sandbox with her and make things. He could even smash them down when she was done. Barry wiped his nose with the back of his hand and nodded.

Barry was four when he moved to Twinleaf town. He wasn't totally sure why. He knew that daddy had a new job, and that daddy and mommy were ‘taking a break', but that still didn't really explain anything. Not like he had much of a say, no matter how often he tried to argue. And now, he was standing on their new neighbors porch with his mom, pouting as hard as he could. But his demeanor changed when a woman opened the door with her young daughter, looking the same age. Barry and his mommy introduced themselves, then the woman. The woman placed a gentle hand on her daughters head, encouraging her to say her name. And with a quiet murmur, she said her name was-

“DAWN!”

Barry broke into a full sprint now. Tears streaming down his face, smiling as wide as he could muster. “DAWN! DAWN!”

Dawn opened her arms for him, so used to his usual method of greeting. And when he tackled her into a hug, she barely managed to stay on both feet.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face into the crook of her neck and jaw, “Dawn, Dawn, Dawn…Dawn…” he whispered, fearful of forgetting once more.

“Barry! Barry how, how did you- How did-” she stammered, hugging him right back, the two of them slowly spinning, orbiting around one another, locked so tight. “When Palina came to tell me-”

“I-I found you. I found you. I found you.” was all he could manage to say, burying his face deeper. “I found you…I found you….”

Dawn squeezed him tight. “You found me. You found me.”

“I…found you….I found you….found you…” he whispered, his voice growing tired. Distant. His grip started to loosen.

“Barry? Barry, you're slipping.” She said, trying to shift him back into the hug.

But Barry continued to slip, until he slumped into her arms, unconscious.

And Dawn screamed.

“Barry?! BARRY! Barry please wake up!!”

#pokemon legends arceus #pla #rival barry #donut hole #barry in hisui

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avionvadion · 3 months

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Part Two of "I have no self control, so here ya go."

Lucifer x Fem!Human!OC

Warning: I don’t know how to write songs, so please don’t judge the Lucifer song too hard. T_T El isn’t affected by the song magic in Hell/Heaven so she ends up singing whatever songs she knows from her time on earth. In this chapter, it's "Here Comes A Thought".

I've decided this takes place just before the Pilot episode. So Angel has not been recruited yet, and the hotel is still the "Happy Hotel".

Lucifer was incredibly anxious as he shifted in his seat, one arm crossed over his chest while he bit the tips of his gloved fingers on his other, watching as Eleanora read the letter. What if it was horrible? What if he wrote too much? What if he was too honest and that ruined the letter? He can’t send that to Charlie. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

They should stop now while they’re ahead, before things go too far and he can’t take it all back.

But what if doing that is what ruins everything?

Lucifer’s mind felt like a trainwreck; he didn’t know which direction to take, which way to go. All the conductors were screaming at each other, but no one was willing to pull the lever to set him on the right track.

No one except…

Ellie?

His sharp fangs had just started tearing through the fabric of the gloves and into his fingers when the Blue Human suddenly reached out, startling him by grabbing his hand and lowering it from his lips.

She hadn’t even looked away from the writing.

He blinked.

Lucifer looked down at the hand she had grabbed. Eleanora’s grip was loose, her fingers just barely resting over his, but she didn’t pull away, simply holding it in place so he didn’t start biting again.

It was… warm.

Does she truly want to help me?

Lucifer, ever since falling from Heaven and seeing the horrors that were inside Hell, had always believed giving humanity free will was one of his biggest mistakes. But he had scared this human, threatened her, kidnapped her, and coerced her into giving him advice, and yet… despite all that… she’s been trying to genuinely help him.

And then she sang that song…

Sure, they had a deal now, but they didn’t when they had first started writing this letter. Nothing in her actions or behavior has changed- save for the fact that she was acting more comfortable around him now, but it was the same for him so that didn’t really mean anything, did it? This human must truly be a good person like his daughter believed.

“Has… Earth changed at all?”

Eleanora paused, finally prying her eyes away from the letter to look down at him, confused. “Hah?”

“Earth.” Lucifer repeated, his yellow-and-red snake eyes boring into her brown ones expectantly, hopefully. “Has it… changed? Or are you just one of the few who are most likely to get into Heaven?”

The woman stared at him, only to turn away with a snort. “I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m “one of the few”. But… the people I used to hang out with in my school days always said I’d probably be the only one at our lunch table who wouldn’t end up in Hell. Pfft!” She laughed, flashing him a grin once she realized the irony of her situation. “Funny how that worked out, am I right? They were all wrong! Technically. Which… actually makes it funnier? But, uh, nah. Probably not.”

Eleanora set the letter down on the desk and made to move her left hand from his- only to freeze, fingers twitching, as her eyes went wide. Lucifer realized then that she had no idea she had stopped him from nibbling his hand to bits, and that she’s been holding said hand for the better half of ten minutes.

“Uh…” Slowly, stiffly, she pulled her hand away, her face burning a bright red, and Lucifer stared intently at her as she turned to lean her back against the desk, folding her arms over her chest as she smiled awkwardly, not looking at him. “I mean, I’m from America and it’s gotten really shitty over the past few years. There was the pandemic, we’re practically about to start World War III, and to top it all off- we’re regressing back into the nineteen twenties! Where women are property and cattle and nothing else!”

She laughed, the sound fake and stressed and very much bitter.

The human waved a hand in the air. “Pisses me off! I mean, seriously, women can’t even breastfeed in public without getting yelled at because we might “excite” some random weirdos! Like, hello~? No! If a baby needs to be fed, it should be fucking fed. But no- let’s let it starve because some asshole might not be able to keep his hands or eyes to himself! Ugh!”

She crossed her arms again, glaring into nothing, and Lucifer leaned sideways against his desk, elbow propped up and hand on his cheek. He was practically staring into her skull, his gaze so intense, and after a minute of seething in her thoughts Eleanora jolted, sensing his stare.

Turning slowly to look at him, she blinked, unable to decipher what exactly he was thinking- if he was even thinking anything at all- and quickly flashed him an apologetic smile, waving a hand at him- the same hand she had held his with.

“S-Sorry! I… I got mad. And… rambled. Um. But, yeah, Charlie definitely thinks I would’ve gotten into Heaven- I disagreed, because, like, I never really believed in God until coming down here? I mean, my parents are religious, but even though they tried to force that on us, me and my siblings were all pretty… indifferent about the matter? That said, I wasn’t about to argue when Charlie asked me question after question and kept… getting more and more excited.”

“What questions did she ask you?”

Eleanora froze. Realizing he was actually interested in what she had to say and wasn’t going to tell her to stop talking, she brightened. “O-Oh! Um, just- y’know, the usual, “Have you ever done drugs or smoked, do you drink- if so, how much and how often, have you ever had intercourse before marriage"? That kinda of thing. Oh! "Have you ever maimed or killed someone? Have you ever thought about maiming or killing someone"?”

“And?”

She startled at that, looking at the devil king with wide eyes. “What?”

Lucifer’s gaze was curious. “What did you tell her?”

The human was stunned. “Well, I…”

Clearing her throat, she looked away and began to count with her fingers as she answered, surprised he even wanted to know. Lucifer himself was a little surprised he wanted to know, especially since he probably won’t even remember half of it, but… he was curious.

Who was this human? Why was it her that was summoned into Hell? Who was she to genuinely want to help him, even though he had abducted and threatened her for her assistance?

Why was she so good, when the rest of humanity was so wretched and awful?

“Um, well, I’ve never done drugs.” Eleanora began to list, thinking back on her answers. “Or smoke. My health was bad enough already, and I really didn’t want to make my asthma worse. Also, I don’t drink. Sure, my older sister would have me take an occasional sip of her wine just so I can say I tried it, but that’s only, like, once or twice a year since she doesn’t drink as much as she used to. Apparently I’m a dessert wine kinda gal?”

Lucifer sat up, squinting an eye. “Asthma? You don’t act like an asthmatic.”

“Charlie!” She beamed, snapping her fingers and pointing at him. “Part of the pact! My meds aren’t available down here, so she’s literally using some kind of magic to keep me from keeling over! I haven’t been able to breathe this well or talk so much since I was small! Heck, I can do zoomies and not collapse three seconds in! She’s such a sweetie.”

She is. One hundred percent. His daughter was the best.

“Anyways, she went on to explain the Happy Hotel to me and convinced me to make a pact with her, so not only have my lung issues been taken care of, I’ve got her protection and a job at the hotel. Even though… said job is to literally just exist. So I don’t really feel like I’m doing anything? But it makes her happy, so. Yeah.”

Lucifer lowered his head, processing this. “My little girl’s… really all grown up now, isn’t she…?”

Eleanora went silent.

After a moment, she moved to tap her fingers against the desk, not daring to touch him after how she had unknowingly done so earlier.

“I think…” She began slowly. “Even if she’s grown, she still has plenty of room in her life for her dad. It’s not like you were on bad terms; you just… never got to know each other. So you still have a shot. Especially since she misses you, too.”

The devil king snapped his head up, his eyes growing wide. “You… You really think so?”

Eleanora grinned, giving him a thumbs up. “Heck yeah, I do!”

“How are you so sure?” He asked, worrying his bottom lip. Lucifer could feel his eyes start to sting as he glanced at one of the portraits he has hanging up that were of his daughter, before turning back to look at the human standing beside him. “Were you a mother before coming here? Did you have kids?”

She balked. Lucifer blinked. He watched as she jumped forward, stumbling as she spun to face him, and shook her head, waving her hands at him. “No! No, no, no! Dude, I never even dated before coming here! Are you kidding!? E-Even if I did have… kids somehow, I’m only twenty-five! They’d be nowhere near Charlie’s age!”

Lucifer curled a hand around his chin, furrowing his brows and tilting his head at her. “You’re twenty-five?”

“…Yeah?”

“And you never dated?" That's surprising.

She shrugged. "All the guys that were in my school were morons and playboys, and literally every person I knew who was in a relationship was being abused or cheated on. I've dealt with my fair share of creeps, but, nah. I don't trust people."

Ah. That explains it. “So, then, Little Blue-“

“For the third time, Your Majesty, please don’t call me that.”

He ignored her comment, instead tossing one leg over the other and lacing his hands together on his lap. Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her. “What makes you so sure this’ll work?”

At that, she hesitated.

Lucifer watched as her facial features shifted, twisting into something darker and grim. His brows raised, finding this reaction most curious, and observed silently as she thought about how to answer. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of answer she would give, especially since she was twenty-five years old and not a parent herself.

After a long, suffocating moment, her hands curling into fists, she moved to fiddle with her blue-painted nails, picking away at the paint. “So, I… don’t have kids. But… I do have older siblings, and… when I was small, I never really got to know them.”

Oh?

A sad smile spread across her lips, and Lucifer leaned forward, even more intrigued now.

“They were… going through some things- depression, anxiety; a lot of their friends… killed themselves and, at the time, our parents were just recently divorced.” He winced a little there. “The divorce never really affected me because of how small I was, but it definitely messed with them. To make matters worse, our mother’s house was absolutely crowded with extended family who were… well, completely and utterly toxic, abusive assholes who only ever cared about themselves, never paid their bills, and decided to take all their anger out on me because I was tiny and couldn’t do anything about it.”

She said that last part rather quickly, her smile growing sickeningly sweet in her rage, and he blinked with a dumbfounded look on his face as she pressed the tips of her fingers together.

“Their daughter, my cousin, who would beat the absolute shit out of me and torment her siblings and even gutted a live snake, was the absolute angel in their eyes, and I was the devil because I had medical issues and was spoiled by my mom. I was four. Four. And this continued for years, and during this time all my siblings moved out, and I didn’t get to hear or see hide or hair of them for years. Also, note, none of them knew this bullshit was going on.”

“Seriously?” Once again, he finds himself regretting giving humanity free will. The abuse aside, that snake thing was especially disturbing for... personal reason.

Eleanora shrugged. “They were always out of the house and I was convinced no one would believe me. Her parents didn’t believe me whenever I tried to defend myself, so why would anyone else believe me? People were already convinced I had an "active imagination".”

Lucifer clicked his tongue, leaning back in his seat. “Fuck that.”

If the other six sins had met and abused his adorable Charlie, and she tried to tell him such, he would’ve believed her on the spot. But, then again, Lucifer himself was cast out of Heaven. He was young and excitable, with great plans for humanity and Earth and all that would inhabit it, but his ideas were deemed too dangerous, too much, for the likes of his angelic family, and they handled the matter by naming him the devil and tossing him down here with his beloved… who… also eventually left him, taking their daughter with her. Leaving him alone.

Ah, damn it.

Is he so lonely that he’s seriously empathizing with this human?

“But, hey!” Eleanora’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up, face shifting into one of bafflement when she grinned and playfully waved fingerguns at him. “A laugh a day keeps the trauma away! Therapy’s expensive, but telling yourself it just be like that sometimes? Doesn’t cost a cent.”

Lucifer nodded to that, sticking out his bottom lip. “That is true…”

“Anyways!” She cleared her throat. “After… everything that part of our family did and how it… messed with my brain, I… ended up more isolated than ever. But then they moved out! And… I was able to find out who I was outside of the trauma.”

“And then?”

She smiled at him, her eyes sad. “I tried to reconnect with my siblings.”

“…Did it work?”

Eleanora beamed. “It did. I was fifteen back then. All you have to do is talk with your daughter, Lucifer. Trust me.”

He just turned his head away, gazing at the floor and the remains of many failed letters. “I… I don’t know. What if… What if she doesn’t want to talk with me?”

The room became filled with a heavy atmosphere, suffocating and thick with anxiety.

Eleanora brought a hand up to her face, fingers over her lips, as she went deep into thought. Just as Lucifer’s fears began to grow darker, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, she tentatively reached out and set a hand on his shoulder.

He tensed, glancing down at the hand, before looking up at her, seeing her hesitating again before she let go and knelt down so he was looking down at her instead. She reached out to grasp his hands, and he startled, realizing he had been unknowingly digging his claws into his palms.

“I’m really not good at this, but…” Eleanora took a deep breath, beginning to sing softly, her eyes gentle as she tried to comfort him in the way that would work best for him. “Take a moment to think of just… flexibility, love, and trust. Take a moment to think of just… flexibility, love and trust...”

“...I love Charlie.” He murmured. “But that… doesn’t mean she loves me.”

Lucifer adores his daughter more than anything; he’d give her the world if that’s what she wanted. Anything that was in his power was hers for the taking. She’s his sole reason for living. She’s so beautiful and bright and lovely, in this world so wretched and dark and filthy. But… he knows he hasn’t been a good father to her.

He barely spent any time with her in her childhood, and after the divorce he never got to see her at all. It may be in part his fault, since he was always too scared to try, but how can he trust she won’t toss him aside like his wife did?

“Lucifer.” Eleanora’s voice called out to him, and he flinched, looking down at her with pained eyes. She gave his hands a gentle squeeze, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s going to be okay.’

“But how do you know that?”

“Just listen, will you?” He pouted at her words, but she stubbornly shook her head and gave him a look before softening her gaze. “Here comes a thought~ that might alarm you; what someone said… and how it harmed you.”

Lucifer’s eyes drifted down to their joined hands, his lips pulling into a small frown.

“Something you did~ that failed to be charming. Things that you said~ are suddenly swarming, and oh… you’re losing sight, you’re losing touch~! And all these little things seem to matter so much… that they confuse you- that she might lose you.”

The blond king snapped his head up, eyes growing wide, but Eleanora offered him a smile. She moved to hold his hands up close to her chest.

“Take a moment, remind yourself- to take a moment and find yourself.” The human suggested. “Take a moment and ask yourself, if this is how it’ll fall apart…”

She held his hands out towards him, uncurling his fingers with her thumbs and unfolding them so his palms were exposed, the bits of his gloves that had been torn through there for him to see. Eleanora’s eyes were full of emotion, staring into his with an intensity she wasn’t able to handle before.

“But it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not.” She told him firmly, her voice sweet yet ever so strong. Lucifer felt his lips curl back, his eyes starting to sting again. He could feel his heart aching, always so terrified of the worst possible scenario yet desperately hoping for the best without putting forth any effort, his cowardice getting the better of him. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

Slowly, Eleanora stood, legs shaking after sitting in such an uncomfortable position for so long. She tugged him onto his feet, the King of Hell finding himself going along with it, watching breathlessly as she smiled at him before releasing one of his hands to brush her fingers over the letter that was still resting on the desk, waiting to be signed.

“You’ve got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear.” Head lowered, her confidence seemed to waver, before she lifted her free hand to rest against her chest, trying to stand tall before him so he wouldn’t doubt her words. Brown eyes gazed into crimson, and she gave his fingers one more good squeeze. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

Lucifer was silent, staring at her for a long minute.

It was so long she started to look uncomfortable, the woman growing worried that she might have sang the wrong thing, but then he turned to look at the letter.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer tried to compose himself, snapping his fingers to repair his gloves before moving to pick up the pen he had set down. In that moment of quiet, repeating in his mind the words she had sung ever so sweetly to him, he asked, “How… should I sign it?”

“Hmm?” She blinked, having not expected that question. “Uh… however you want? She’s your daughter.”

Sitting straight, he tapped the letter with the pen. “But what would Charlie like best? Should I be formal? How formal? King of Hell formal,” He spoke with a silly faux intimidating voice, waggling his shoulders and almost earning a laugh from the human woman, “or a Sincerely, Your Father kinda thing? Does she even like formalities? I know she’s grown now, but when she was little-“

“How about, Love Dad?” Eleanora suggested, a small smile on her lips, her eyes shimmering with a hint of baffled exasperation and growing fondness. She rested a hand on the back of his chair, leaning down just slightly so they were on eye level. “I think she’d like that.”

Lucifer froze, pen dropping from his hand. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he looked up at her, his true personality showing through now that they’ve had not one, but two emotional music numbers. “L-Love… Dad? That’s not- That’s not too cheesy? Too cringe? She won’t- She won’t find it too much?”

She stared at him, understanding slowly dawning on her that he was less a king and more just a depressed and lonely man who wanted so badly to be a good father, yet didn’t know how. She knew he was immortal, but appearance wise he looked more like he was in his early to mid thirties. This man was an absolutely mess. “Your Majesty… Lucifer, sir… uh…”

Eleanora looked at the letter and then at him. His eyes were pleading.

“I don’t know how to tell you this… but Charlie loves cheesy. Formalities freak her out.”

“…Oh.”

“Yeeeah.”

Heart pounding, Lucifer shakily signed the letter, finding himself- against his better judgment- drawing some hearts around the Love, Dad that he wrote, before folding the letter and waving his hand, an envelope appearing in the air. He caught it between his fingers as it fluttered, and the king carefully tucked the letter inside before stamping it shut with a wax seal.

Eleanora almost flinched when he held it out to her. “There. It’s done. You’re certain Charlie will like it?”

“Y-Yeah! Of course!” She awkwardly reached out to take the letter from him. “Um, do you wanna send her a gift too? Just to be safe?”

Lucifer blinked. “A… gift? Like what?”

“I-I dunno, how about…” The Blue Human looked around the room, taking note of the hundreds of rubber ducks. There were so many, he even had some stuffed under a table. She didn’t even notice the paper ducks hanging over the doorway until now. Deciding not to think too hard about, she gestured to a pile. “Why not one of these? They’re cute. Charlie loves animals!”

At that, the king jumped out of his seat, laughing awkwardly and wagging a finger at the woman. “Oho! Ha! Haha! No! No, no, no!” He crossed his arms in an X over his chest, shaking his head as his heeled boots clacked against the floor. “Absolutely not! Ex-nay on the duck-nay! None of these are… are…”

Lucifer scrunched up his face and bent over, waving his arms dramatically.

“Are good enough for my Charlie! They’re failures, all of them!”

“Wait, seriously?” Eleanora walked over to pick one up from off the top of one of the bigger piles. The one she grabbed was wearing a red-and-white striped sweater. “But they’re adorable!”

She squeezed it.

It squeaked.

A big goofy grin spread across her face.

The human cooed, holding it up with both hands, and Lucifer froze- on his tiptoes, half bent over in his overdramatic panic, his arms held out and hands extended in front of him. The devil king stared at her, watching as she squeezed it again. “She’d love this! Ohhh~ or maybe this one? Awww, it has a little hat! So precious!”

She reached out to pick it up.

It took Lucifer’s stunned brain a bit too long to recognize what the specific hat he had put on that particular rubber duck meant, but once he did he tossed a hand out, pointing a claw at it with a panicked shriek.

“No!”

A beam of light blasted out of his hand, and Eleanora screamed, stumbling and falling back as the duck was simultaneously sent flying out of her hands and incinerated. She looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes, but he just turned to her, breathing heavily.

“Don’t… Don’t squeak that one.” He told her. “It’ll kill you.”

Well, not anymore, anyways, given he just blasted that thing into oblivion. But it could’ve. Would’ve, had he not acted. Then Charlie would be sad, and he wouldn’t have anyone to give him advice anymore.

Oddly enough, he’s actually growing rather fond of this human. She was a good one. Even better, she understood his relationship with Charlie, or lack thereof, and was actively trying to help. In an even odder way, she felt a bit like a kindred spirit.

But that could just be his loneliness and desperation for connection talking.

“That fucking beam you shot out would’ve killed me!” Eleanora cried from her spot on the floor, swearing as loud as could be. “You could have just grabbed it from me!”

Lucifer paused. “Oh. Huh. Yeah, guess I could’ve.”

Seeing him give a small, half-hearted shrug, the human forgot all fear of him being the devil king and picked up the sweater-wearing duck she had dropped, tossing it at him in a fit of anger. Lucifer blinked and looked down, watching as it hit his chest with a squeak.

He turned to her, deeply unimpressed. “Really? That’s what you choose to do? Even though I just saved you? You’re in my house, and you’re throwing my rubber ducks… at me?”

Eleanora opened her mouth like she was about to yell at him, but thought better of it and huffed, pushing herself up onto her feet and moving to set the letter safely on the table. She marched over to another pile of rubber ducks. Picking one up, she turned and faced him, and he just stared, eyes half-lidded, as she threw another one at him.

It bounced off his shoulder.

With a squeak, it began to glow with a brilliant yellow light. The light faded after three seconds.

When she threw a third duck at him, Lucifer took it upon himself to dodge. He barked a laugh, pointing at her. “Ha! Missed!”

Unfortunately, as soon as the duck landed on the floor, squeaking, a bolt of lightning shot out from its beak and scorched a wall.

Eleanora jumped and screeched, practically throwing herself onto the desk in the same way someone might’ve done had they seen a spider. “What the frick, dude!? Lightning!? Don’t- Don’t you have one that squeaks rainbows or something!? Or glitter!? Something not deadly!?”

Lucifer held up a finger, about to respond, only to think about it, tapping a claw to his chin. “Actually… I don’t think I have one with rainbows? Glitter, definitely. Dunno where it’s at, though. It’s in one of these piles.” He raised an arm, gesturing widely to the rubber ducks around them.

The human gaped at him.

Lifting a hand, she brushed her bangs back out of her face, baffled, letting out a huff, and Lucifer hummed, summoning his staff so he could lean forward against it, rocking on his heels as he rested his chin on his hands. He watched as her chest heaved as she scoffed, her shapely legs shifting as she slumped over, dropping her arms to rest in her lap as she shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous.” Oh, that’s something. Rather than annoyance, there was a hint of amusement in her tone, like she found his ridiculousness entertaining or, dare say, charming.

Lucifer found his eyebrows raising. “Am I? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Pfft!” She didn’t even try to hide her laugh. “Right!? It’s not obvious at all.”

Even stranger than her tone of voice, Lucifer found himself smiling, lips spreading wide across his face and showcasing his sharp teeth for all the world to see.

It felt nice- having someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t a wretched Sinner and who didn’t have ulterior motives. Someone he didn’t have to worry about, whether it be their intentions or… otherwise. It was a welcome distraction.

One that… actually felt good, instead of being a pathetic endeavor to keep his mind off of other things. It felt so good, he could feel a song bubbling its way up his chest.

“Well, I may be ridiculous, but what does that make you?” Lucifer found himself saying, standing up straight and tapping his cane against the floor before waltzing his way over to the desk where she was still sitting. Eleanora blinked. Alarm flashed across her face when he leaned against the side of his chair, arms folding over his chest, fixing her with a look. “You just threw rubber ducks at the King of Hell. Honesty, it was quite bold of you.”

“Th-That was… I, um…” Her expression was complete and utter panic.

Lucifer’s smile broadened into a grin, absolutely delighted at this opportunity to tease her. “A human like you? Why, Little Blue- I can hardly believe you!”

Her panic instantly switched to confusion, the woman catching the beat he was speaking with, before squeaking when he suddenly jumped up onto the desk and slid to sit beside her, one leg crossed over the other.

As Lucifer started to sing, he bounced his shoulders, grinning wide as could be as he looked at her. “What a brave human you are~ facing Hell and coming this far! Picking a fight with the king, I mean really, just who do you think you are?”

“I-“ Eleanora did not have any idea where this was going. As such, she didn’t know if he was actually upset or not. “I just- I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to- well, I did mean to, but it wasn’t-“

“A human like you, sweet Little Blue, I just can’t understand you. Come on, let’s walk!” He jumped off the desk, snatching her hand and dragging her with him, and she yelped when he yanked her forward and spun her around so they were facing each other. “Let’s talk, let’s have a dance!”

“Lucifer-“

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, not at all sincere, laughing as he grabbed both her hands and began to move around. The woman’s feet stumbled as she tried to keep in time with him. “You wanted to dance with the devil, so here I am! Why not revel and enjoy the song?”

She made a noise of surprise when the room around them began to change, magical silver music notes drifting through the air, circling them. The sky above was a brilliant glittering gold.

“Lah~ dah, a lati dah!” Lucifer sang, his dull red eyes a brilliant crimson as they spun atop a crystal clear lake, each step causing the surface to ripple. “Lah dah lah dah, lah lati dah!”

He couldn’t help but watch as wonder began to shine in her eyes, something warm that had once been long dead inside him seeming to rise and glimmer as the world around them sparkled gold and blue. Lifting an arm, Eleanora actually giggled as she spun on her toes, the devil king letting her circle around him before being pulled back into his grasp.

Before, she had been terrified, and she sang only to comfort him, but now?

She was truly enjoying the music.

“A dance with the devil’s what you wanted, so take the leap, take a glance~ enjoy your unique, magical circumstance! Not many get a chance like this!”

Whether he was referring to her situation as a human who was summoned into Hell itself while still being very much alive, or simply because she was dancing with the King of Hell, he wasn’t really sure. Lucifer was simply letting the words flow, and enjoying himself as he watched the various emotions paint across her face.

“Lah dah lah dah, la lati dah~!” He sang, before flashing her a big grin. “Say, Little Blue, is that a smile?”

The human gasped, looking at him with big brown eyes, concern flashing across her features just briefly until she saw his crinkled eyes, realizing there wasn’t a hint of animosity in his words.

Spinning and releasing her, she fell back with a yelp, but didn’t fall as he caught her by the waist. “I knew you’d find this song to be worthwhile!”

“Lucif-“ Eleanora inhaled sharply, the devil king leaning towards her just a bit too close, but in a way that was much different from how he did in the first song he sang to her.

His grin was wider, but not forced, and his crimson irises were sparkling. “Little Blue, Ellie, you~! You made a deal to work at my side, to help me with my daughter so I won’t have to say goodbye, but you~!”

Lucifer pulled her back up onto her feet, but did not remove his hand from her waist.

“You don’t know how to pick your battles! Trying to pick a fight with the one who gave Eve the apple, ha! You really are reckless, y’know that?”

“Unfortunately?”

Lucifer grinned.

“You wanted to dance with the devil~! So here I am! Take the leap, take the chance, enjoy your unique magical circumstance!” Grasping her hand, tugging her close, they began to dance together again, Lucifer taking the lead as she stumbled along, her face red as could be as he beamed. “Lah dah lah dah, la lati dah~ tell me, Little Blue; you’re a gutsy gal! Just why are you helping me?”

She blinked. “Why? Because…”

Eleanora thought about it. For once, her feet were actually matching his steps.

“You love your daughter? And… because I want to? I don’t… think you’re a bad guy. Scary, yeah, since you… could definitely kill me, but- I dunno, you’re kinda nice?”

Lucifer’s pearly white grin softened then, his eyes burning at the sincerity of her answer. Something in his heart throbbed, and he smiled gently as he sent her spinning to his right, releasing her hand, red flower petals appearing and fluttering around her as she slowed to a halt, turning to look at him once she was several feet away. Lucifer’s eyes widened a little at the sight, and he pursed his lips, wondering if this was truly alright.

She shouldn’t even be here in Hell.

Can he… really allow himself to rely on her? He should hate her, honestly, given she’s one of the beings who was given free will and with that free will has made a pact of all things with his daughter, and yet… he can’t. She’s so honest and nice, and… warm.

And pretty.

Nope, no, not the time, brain!

Attraction does not equal affection, and he’s not even sure if he can try that right now- or if he’s even capable of it, considering how badly his heart was broken when his wife left him. Even his brain’s become a scrambled mess over the years of isolation and crippling loneliness.

Friends are good, though!

He can handle making a friend. Right? Right.

I can have a human friend.

Lucifer watched as a few butterflies flew towards Eleanora, who squeaked in slight terror and ducked down, freezing in place when one landed on her head. He bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh. Walking over, he scared the magic critters away with his staff and held out his hand, the brunette woman pausing to look up at him with gratitude before hesitantly taking hold of his hand.

“Thank you.” He told her, voice soft, and she recoiled, eyes wide.

“Huh? O-Oh, you don’t- haha, nah, it’s okay!” She smiled awkwardly at him. “I’m just… glad I can help. Like I said- I don’t really do anything in the hotel except exist, mostly because we don’t have any residents yet, but, hey! If I can help you bond with Charlie, who’s been super nice to me, then I wanna help!”

Lucifer chuckled, and this time when he tugged her towards him Eleanora didn’t yelp. She just gazed at him with wide eyes, her face burning red, as their chests and faces nearly touched.

One hand in hers, the other on her waist, the corners of his eyes crinkled warmly. “And I’m not supposed to thank you for that? Don’t be ridiculous, Ellie. Being fallen doesn't mean I've forgotten how to be grateful. I may be the devil, but I was once an archangel."

She was definitely befuddled by his change in attitude, as well as the sudden nickname, but decided not to comment on it.

Apparently “Ellie” was more acceptable than “Little Blue”.

Although, if you ask him, “Little Blue” was much cuter. It suited her. A human in Hell, weak and without magic, lacking any and all ways to defend herself should she be attacked without relying on the pact, dressed in all blue, and… well, short? It was adorable. The best nickname.

He absolutely enjoyed how tall his ex wife was, as it made for some fun antics where he could bring out his wings and fly about, but having someone a little closer to his eye level wasn’t bad either.

Wait, what is his brain trying to imply?

Stop it! Focus!

He leaned in closer, and Ellie leaned back, intimidated and very much flustered. When he started singing again, his voice was lower, gentler, but still filled with gratitude and glee. “I’ve been wanting~ for so long, to see my daughter~ and hear her song. But in the end, I ran away… like a coward…”

Lucifer lowered his head, looking away.

“But,” Looking back up, his red eyes met Eleanora’s, and he flashed her a grateful, painfully hopeful grin, “with you at my side, helping me stay upright, to face the fight, I might just be able~ for once not be a fable~ in my daughter’s life!”

The world around them shimmered, the music notes fluttering down towards the lake like feathers. The lighting grew softer, but Eleanora was so entranced by Lucifer’s voice and his scarlet eyes she barely noticed.

Even as they began to dance again, and he spun her around and tugged her back, grasping both of her hands, her gaze did not leave his form. “Lah dah lah lati da~! To be a light and set things right, so what remains is not devoured~! I thank you, Ellie.”

He lifted her hands up to his forehead as he bowed his head, his lips curling back.

“Thank you. For dancing with this… pathetic excuse of a man and devil.”

“…You’re not pathetic.”

“No, no. I am.” He said, shaking his head and lifting his gaze to meet hers. Eleanora was frowning. “If not for you, that letter… would never have been finished. It wouldn’t have even seen an envelope. I’m… the worst. Truly. I call myself Charlie’s father, but I can never do anything on my own. I just… wait. Hoping she calls me. That she reaches out. I’m pathetic, and… I know it.”

“You’re not pathetic.” The brunette stated firmly. Lucifer blinked. “You’re just scared. It’s okay to be scared.”

“But I-“

“You want to fix things, right?” She asked, and he hesitantly nodded. “You finished the letter, didn’t you?” Another nod. “You’re taking the first step. What would be pathetic is if you gave up midway through. But you didn’t. You finished writing it.”

“...If it weren’t for you, I-”

Lucifer was cut-off rather rudely by a phone’s call ringtone going off. The song was distinctly in Japanese, but it was definitely the iconic, I Want to Change the World from a classic anime that Eleanora enjoys. Her eyes as wide as dinner plates, the magic around them popping out of existence, she yanked her hands away from Lucifer and fumbled for her phone.

He made a face. “Who is that?”

“Charlie!”

Immediately, the man was stricken with panic, jumping back and flailing his hands, cane clattering to the ground. “Charlie!? Char- Charlie is calling you!? Char-Char!? My daughter!? Wh-What do we do!? What do I do!?”

“Uh, ubduh- ahhhhh, I dunno!” Eleanora was panicking herself, frantically waving a hand at him before taking several deep breaths. “Calm! Stay calm! Don’t say anything! I got this. Phew. Okay.”

Clearing her throat, she slid a thumb across the screen to accept the call and put the phone on speaker, holding it out with a nervous grin. She rested a free hand on her waist.

“Heeeey, Charlie! What’s up?”

“Where are you!?”

“Huh?”

The princess sounded terrified. “Where are you!? Are you okay!? Vaggie went to go find you, but you weren’t in your room, so we’ve been searching for you, but you’re just gone and we don’t know what to do and- are you okay!? You weren’t kidnapped by some mean demons, were you!?”

At that, Eleanora and Lucifer looked at each other, and the King of Hell awkwardly placed a gloved hand over his face, cringing, because yes- she was kidnapped, and it was by him. Eleanora had to suppress a laugh.

“Are you hurt anywhere!?”

“I-I’m not-“ Eleanora stammered for a moment, brain trying to come up with some sort of explanation, Lucifer waving a hand in front of his face and shaking his head, teeth bared in his panic. Her eyes lit up. “A-Actually, I… have a surprise for you!”

Lucifer gaped, jaw ajar in his disbelief.

“Which is… why I’m not at the hotel! Haha, sorry, I know I should have told you I was gonna be gone for a while, but, like- I really didn’t wanna give it away, y’know?” As if. Lucifer kidnapped her without a warning. Eleanora had absolutely no idea she was going to be gone from the hotel.

Charlie’s worry quickly vanished. “A surprise?”

Her excited gasp could be heard over the speaker.

“I love surprises!”

“Right!? Thought you might.” Eleanora flashed Lucifer a playful wink and fingergun, silently letting him know they had this. His eyes were wide, the man unable to believe this was happening. “Also, question. How do… you feel about ducks?”

“Awww, I love ducks! They’re so cute! Wait, does the surprise include ducks?” She gasped again. “Is it a live one!? Are you getting me a live duck!?”

“…It does involve ducks, but not a live one. I don’t think.” The human made a face, and Lucifer began to lower his hands from his face, the man actually listening to the conversation now and realizing Eleanora truly did know what his daughter would like. “Where would I even get one in Hell? Do they have ducks in Hell?”

“Good point…” Charlie let out a weak chuckle, embarrassed. “And we do! They’re just… not normal?”

“Also! How do you feel about rainbows and glitter?”

“Yeeeeessssss~!”

“Aww, yeah!” Eleanora snapped her fingers, striking a pose as she held a hand dramatically up in the air above her head. “Knew it! Alrighty! Well, to answer your questions; I’m okay, I am not hurt, and… let’s not focus on the kidnapping bit, okay, bestie?”

“Wait, what? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Part of the surprise. Anyways~ I shall see you soon! Tell Vaggie I said hi! Hopefully you like the surprise!”

“Aww, you really don’t have to, you know.”

“It’s all good.” She beamed, and turning her head she sent Lucifer a warm smile. “I want to.”

The king was stunned.

“El~! Awwww! Okay, well, since you absolutely insist on surprising me, I guess I have no choice but to wait! Hehehe. Ooh, Vaggie, Vaggie, guess what?”

There was the sound of footsteps and then a calm yet very amused voice going, “What is it?”

“El said she has a surprise for me! That’s why she’s gone! She’s getting it ready!”

“A surprise? Wait, really?” Vaggie sounded very confused. “But… she doesn’t know anyone in Hell! Where did she go? How did she leave without getting hurt?”

“Maybe she influenced the Sinners with her goodness!? They won’t wanna hurt someone who’s super duper nice to them, right?”

“Oh, gosh…” Eleanora was starting to look incredibly embarrassed now, the woman rubbing her exposed neck. “I really ain’t that nice. But, I’m glad you think so! You’ll… learn what’s going on once I get back, okay? With… the surprise.”

Vaggie was skeptical, but Charlie was delighted. “Okay! Hehe. See you soon! Oooh, I can’t wait!”

“Just be careful. It really isn’t safe down here.”

“Trust me,” Eleanora said, expression contorting with a grimace, “I know.”

With that, she hung up. An exhausted breath escaped her lips, and she turned to look at Lucifer. Tucking her phone in her pocket, she brushed her bangs out of her face with a weary smile.

“See? What’d I say? She loves cute and cheesy stuff!”

Lucifer just took in a deep breath, brought his hands up to squish his cheeks, and let out a screech before running circles around the room. Eleanora squawked, turning to watch the devil king lose his mind. “Why, why, why, whyyyyy!? Why did you tell her you had a surprise for her!?”

“...So you couldn’t duck out?”

He skidded to a halt, the floor squeaking against his heels, and he looked to see her grinning goofily at him, pointing at one of the many piles of rubber ducks that were in his room. “Uh-huh. I see what you did there. You think you’re hilarious, don’t’cha?”

“I do, yes.” She snickered. “And, hey! Got you to stop freaking out.”

Lucifer balked, realizing she was right.

Not giving him time to start panicking again, the human walked over and patted his shoulder. “So, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you made all these rubber duckies, right?” Seeing him nod slowly, she continued. “Okay. Well… can you make one that squeaks rainbows and glitter? Or will that… take a day or two?”

“A day or- pfft, tch, pch’a!” Lucifer made a bunch of scoffing noises and waved her off, puffing out his chest as he rested a hand on his hip. With his free hand, he lifted his chin and rubbed his fingers together, acting haughty. “I could make, like, a hundred of those before the day’s over.”

Eleanora placed her hands on both of his shoulders then, making a bit of a face as she kept her smile on. “We only need one.”

“...I’ll make two.”

Eleanora had to stifle a laugh at his determined pout.

Previous Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/avionvadion/741473939450216448/i-have-no-self-control-so-here-ya-go?source=share

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #hazbin lucifer x oc #hazbin hotel lucifer x oc #dancing with the devil #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer magne

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bassettmemes · 7 months

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YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME. XOXO, GOSSIP GIRL. ↳ a collection of sentences from the Gossip Girl (2007) series.

"I'm not a stop along the way. I'm a destination."

“Three words. Eight letters. Say it and I’m yours.”

“If you’re going to be sad, you might as well be sad in Paris.”

“Once men have tasted caviar, it baffles me how they settle for catfish.”

“Whoever said money doesn’t buy happiness didn’t know where to shop.”

“We’re sisters. You’re my family. What is you is me. There’s nothing you could ever say that would make me let go.”

“You can’t make people love you, but you can make them fear you.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m the crazy bitch around here.”

“Here’s my advice. Have a little faith, and if that doesn’t work, have a lot of mimosas.”

“Don’t go all Notebook on me. Not now. I need you.”

“I have an idea for you: quit. Your boss is a bitch. Let’s go to lunch.”

“Destiny is for losers. It’s just a stupid excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen.”

“We’re not servants to our emotions. We can control them, suppress them, stomp them out like bugs.”

“You need to be cold to be a queen.”

“Don’t let people tell you who you are. You tell them.”

“I didn’t come back for you.”

“I’ll just stay home, eat lots of gelato, and write about how true love is nothing but a myth.”

“I’d ask you how you are, but I don’t really care.”

“You know my mom: If it’s not broke, break it.”

“There’s something vibrating in your pocket, and I really hope it’s your phone.”

“I hate that stupid headband.”

“I remember everything you’ve read to me. In case you haven’t noticed I don’t really let go of things so easily.”

“I like the way I feel when he looks at me. Like I wanna believe in myself.”

“Earn the spotlight on your own merits. You’ll feel better.”

“Even if it’s the biggest kamikaze disaster of my life, it’s my disaster.”

“You are no one until you’re talked about.”

“When Prince Charming found Cinderella’s slipper, they didn’t accuse him of having a foot fetish.”

“I don’t read Gossip Girl. That’s for chicks.”

“So, actually, I’ll be living out my nightmare. Trapped in the city with only you to talk to.”

“She doesn’t know me. Nobody knows me. It’s cool. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, well, your fashion emergency was solved so I figured my work was done.”

“You can’t fight against who you are.”

“You gonna strangle him with your scarf?”

“You don’t just give up because things are hard.”

“You know it’s love when you start talking like an assassin.”

“I just want to be the person you can bring anything to.”

“Affairs with married people, threesomes — it just so happens everyone’s problems are within my area of expertise.”

“I just don’t get it. I organized everything the way she likes it. I mean, I even made sure my bowtie matched her dress.”

“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with keeping your options open. I don’t think your parents are going to be mad at you for choosing your own path. Unless… they’re related to my parents.”

“Some might call this a fustercluck. But on the Upper East Side, we call it Sunday afternoon.”

“There’s a weak link in every chain, and it’s just a matter of time before this one snaps.”

“One thing about being on the top of the world? It gives you a long, long way to fall.”

“So we should just be anonymous losers who eat lunch alone and never get invited to parties?”

“Well, keep dreaming. Maybe one day she’ll actually know your name.”

“The sound of your own voice annoying you?”

“Even you should know that jealousy clashes with L.L. Bean pants!”

“I came to tell you in person. You win.”

“The only human contact that you don’t pay for is the people in this house.”

“That’s not fair. Everyone’s topless on Valentino’s yacht.”

“You know you really put yourself on the radar tonight. Better not make that mistake again or you’ll pay for real.”

“Don’t look now, but those are the JV mean girls.”

“He gave six girls from Nightingale gonorrhea of the throat last year.”

“I wouldn’t have had to do it if it weren’t for your smear campaign against me.”

“If we wanted to have sex, we’d just go to a hotel.”

“You’ve come to my rescue enough times, let me help you for once.”

“I don’t need a guy to make me feel fulfilled, especially when he’s unavailable.”

#sentence prompts #rp meme #rp prompt #rp prompts #writing prompts #sentence starter #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #writing prompt #sentence meme #rp #gossip girl sentence starters #gossip girl ask meme #gossip girl starters #gossip girl rp starters

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nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius · 10 months

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TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 14

Hunter: Hey, how did my comlink break? Echo: You were drunk yesterday. Hunter: And? Wrecker: You threw it. Hunter: Why? Tech: You turned on airplane mode and kept screaming “FLY DAMN YOU!” Hunter: And why didn’t you stop me?! Crosshair: We were busy laughing our asses off.

Echo: You know, I really wish you’d just admit you made a mistake sometimes. Crosshair, stirring his coffee: I prefer it with salt.

Tech, teaching Omega to drive: Okay Omega, what does a green light mean? Omega: Go! Tech: A red light? Omega: Stop! Tech: And what about a yellow light? Omega: If you floor it, you can make it! Tech: …No-

Wrecker: Hey, check out my umbrella! *Wrecker opens his umbrella while indoors* Omega: Wrecker, that’s bad luck… Wrecker: Chill out, Omega! Crosshair, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?! Wrecker and Omega: *screams*

Wrecker: What is the most illegal thing you can do with one gold? Crosshair: Exchange it for a hundred copper, put them all in a sock, and then beat someone to death with it.

Omega, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day? Hunter: … Hunter: What’s in the box? Omega: What woul- Hunter: Omega, what’s in the box? Omega: I think you know.

Omega: We’re going to a candy store?! Tech: No! It’s nighttime, candy stores are closed. Wrecker: We’re gonna ROB a candy store?!?! Tech, sighing: No-

Omega: Echo, I got suspended from school… Echo: WHAT?!?! What did you do? Omega: My teacher pointed at me with a ruler, and he said “there is an idiot at the end of this ruler”. Echo: And…? Omega: I asked which end… Echo, unable to contain his laughter: Okay, you just made my day.

Echo: If you had to choose between Omega and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose? Crosshair: That depends, how much money are we talking about? Omega: Crosshair! Echo: 63 cents. Crosshair: …I’ll take the money. Omega: CROSSHAIR!!

Tech: Phee and I are no longer friends. Phee: Tech that is the worst way to tell people that we're dating.

Omega: Why do humans have different blood groups? Tech: So mosquitoes can enjoy different flavors.

Hunter: This can’t get any worse. Can it? Crosshair: Sure it can - just give me a minute.

*talking over comlink* Crosshair: Remember how I said that Wrecker and I were gonna have a calm night out for once? Echo: Yeah… Crosshair: Well, we’re in jail. Echo: *hangs up*

Tech: We need a distraction. Wrecker: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Omega, whispering: My time has come.

Omega, learning how to drive: What happens if I press the gas and the brake at the same time? Crosshair: The car takes a screenshot. Tech: Please pull over. I’m driving now.

Omega, on her comlink: I better go…kay, call me later… byeeee! Hunter: Friend of yours? Omega: Nope, wrong number. Hunter: ???

Tech: Don’t you guys read the papers? Crosshair: Only the funnies. Echo: You mean the obituaries. Crosshair: Oh, potato, pohtato…

Phee, watching Tech: Ah yes. The mysterious and beautiful Tech, so demure… Phee: …I wonder what sort of melodic sounds this wonderful being makes? Tech: *screaming*

Tech: As a responsible adult- Echo: *chuckles* Tech: … As a responsible adult—

Wrecker: If I die first, promise to wait up for me, okay, Crosshair? Crosshair: Oh, Wrecker. When I die, I’m taking you with me. Wrecker: I can’t tell if that’s a threat or a compliment. Crosshair: I’d think of it more as a grim inevitability.

Tech: Do you ever feel like exploding? Have you experienced the urge to enter the process of combustion? Has your mind created a logical idea, known as thought, to disperse your body into thousands of particles suddenly? Hunter: It’s 3 am, please go back to sleep.

Wrecker: I am a ninja. Echo: No, you’re not. Wrecker: Did you see me do that? Echo: Do what? Wrecker: Exactly.

Echo: What, I can’t be in a bad mood? It’s like people think, “Oh, Echo is such a nice person, person a is so happy-go-lucky! Echo can’t be in a bad mood!” Well, you know what? Echo CAN be in a bad mood. And right now, Echo IS in a bad mood.

Hunter: How would you guys deal with a toxic friend? Wrecker: Tell them how you really feel. Echo: Slowly distance yourself from them. Crosshair: Engage in a 1v1 sword battle and if they lose they have to stop being toxic or pay the price. Hunter, being handed a sword: …well heck.

Hunter: Hey, what have you two been doing? Crosshair: We were helping Tech with his wedding vows and we were kicked out of their house for making it inappropriate. Wrecker: How is “Nice ass, Phee” inappropriate?

Crosshair: I would say I outdid myself, but I’m always this good, so I simply did myself.

Crosshair: How do ethical philosophers feel about murder? Tech: Well, it’s frowned upon. Crosshair: Okay, but what if the reason you want to murder someone is to make your life easier? Crosshair: That’s okay, right?

Crosshair: You know, there’s only one person in this world who can tell you what you are. Wrecker: Me. Crosshair: No. Crosshair: Me.

Wrecker: Hey, Echo. These candies you gave me? They sucked. Echo: But you ate them all. Wrecker: I had to make sure they all sucked.

Tech: I ran into Hunter in the kitchen at 1 AM last night and when I asked him what he was doing, he just shrugged, said “these are my roaming hours,” and wandered off, strumming vaguely on his guitar.

Hunter: Is it still visible? Where Crosshair slapped me? Omega: Your face looks like a don't walk signal. Echo: Your face looks like a photo negative for the hamburger helper box. Wrecker: A palm reader could tell Crosshair's future by looking at your face. Tech: The phrase 'talk to the hand cause the face ain't listening' doesn't work for you, because the hand is your face. Hunter: ...A simple 'yes' would've sufficed.

#tbb incorrect quotes #incorrect bad batch quotes #the bad batch #star wars #tbb #incorrect quotes

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edosianorchids901 · 8 months

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We're In This Together

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "found family"

“And don’t forget,” Satan said, flat black eyes pinning Crawley and the other demons in place. “We found each other even in the Pit, cast out from the light of Heaven. We’re all in this together.”

Crawley’s legs buckled as the gaze focused, the weight of Satan’s anger at the whole universe pressing down. Pain shot through Crawley, and he gritted his teeth.

Satan loomed closer to their group. “And anyone strays from our new path, we will find them again. We’re all a family now, and disloyalty will not be tolerated.”

Another wave of pain, a vicious threat. Bitterness rising, Crawley struggled to keep his expression neutral as they all chorused agreement. In Heaven, Satan had encouraged questions, challenging authority, stepping out of line. Now…

“And you, my darling little Crawley.” Satan approached him, and Crawley fell to his knees with a gasp of pain. “You’ve excelled at your duties, so you’ll be returning to Earth. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that you’re any less a part of this family.”

Crawley didn’t want to be part of any “family”. The Archangels had said similar shit, shortly before they kicked him into free fall for asking questions. Hell was no better. He just wanted to be on his own.

But he bowed his head, shivering. “Of course, my Lord. I’ll… keep excelling, yeah?”

“Of course you will. You know better than to disappoint me.” A fresh wave of anger, and Crawley whimpered. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Yeah, I… definitely don’t wanna disappoint you, or anyone else. I’ll just pop back to Earth, then. Get to work. Got loads of work to do, ideas of tempting things to… tempt people with.” Crawley tried to cut off the panicked babbling and failed. “You know how it is, all those ideas. Gotta try ‘em out, see what works. But the humans are being really fruitful, multiplying, all that jazz. Got plenty of people to test temptations on.”

Satan gave an indulgent laugh and patted Crawley on the head, eerily reminiscent of a human parent. Then, reminiscent of the worst human parents, he struck Crawley hard across the face.

Crawley slammed into cold stone, wheezing, tears welling. Blood trickled from his throbbing nose. He just laid there, waiting for Satan to move off and torment someone else.

No. He definitely did not want to be part of a family.

Crawley went back to Earth. He chose a spot under the shade of date palms, far enough away from any humans. Then he sank down to the sand, wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his knees up to his chest, and surrendered to the violent trembling that so often hit after visits to Hell.

His breaths turned quick and shivery, not drawing enough air. Tears stung his eyes again, and he huddled tighter. The trembling grew worse and worse, so convulsive that his teeth clacked together.

The rapid beat of his heart surged faster, racing. He rocked, desperate, gasping. “Nonono, please, please…”

There was never any help. There could never be any help. The price of keeping everyone at a distance, of staying safe, was that no one would ever help him.

He shook more and more violently, until he couldn’t even stay upright. Pain crushed his chest, and he crumpled onto his side. He curled tighter, tears pouring down his cheeks now, frantic sobs tearing loose.

“Crawley?”

Crawley tried to scramble away from the voice, but he only succeeded in sprawling more haphazardly in the sand. “Stay away from me! Get the fuck back!”

“Oh!” The voice sounded upset—and familiar. Aziraphale. “Oh, dear fellow, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“I don’t… I can’t… breathe.” The tears fell harder, and Crawley curled up again. His whole soul ached with longing to call out for help, but how could he? How could he trust anyone to help, even an angel who had always been kind to him? He wasn’t in it together, not with anyone.

But Aziraphale moved closer, sandals crunching across the sand. He sank to his knees in front of Crawley, kind face rumpled with concern. “May I help?”

Crawley opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, and sobbed instead. “I don’t know. No one… ever helps…”

He bit off the words, bracing for a blow. Every time he’d been around anyone, seeming kindness quickly turned to unexplained cruelty. Especially when he was stupid enough to be vulnerable.

“Oh, you poor dear! Hush now. It’s okay.” Slowly, Aziraphale sat beside him. Crawley flinched. “I won’t harm you, shh. Here, why don’t you put your head in my lap? Or you can curl up here, and I could hold you?”

Crawley gave him a suspicious look. “Why?”

“It’s what humans do, when someone is scared. I-I like watching the families.” Aziraphale ducked his head a little, as if the admission made him embarrassed. “They always seem to like physical contact.”

Crawley’s only recent experience with physical contact was being struck or beaten for no damn reason. But something tugged at his heart as he listened to Aziraphale. “Sounds nice, but m’ kinda… frozen.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. It is an awfully chilly wind, isn’t it?” Aziraphale laid down beside him. Crawley flinched, but the violence never came. Instead, Aziraphale curled around him, holding him close. “There, how’s that? Warmer?”

Oh gosh, he was sweet. Crawley didn’t have the air to correct him, so he just nodded. Shuddering still wrenched through him, the terror of Hell too much to chase off even with help. He’d have to wait for it to subside on its own, like always.

But being held did feel better. Family might not be so bad, if it was made up of just the two of them.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

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toreii · 8 months

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Lost in the Book with Stitch part 5

Disclaimer: This is a fan translation. I apologize for any mistakes. I’m by no means fluent in Japanese, but I try my best. Please, support the official translation when it comes out.

Uninhabited Island - Beach

Azul: “Everyone.”

Azul: “How about making a deal to help us out of here?”

Riddle: “What do you mean?”

Floyd: “So dense. Why do you believe Azul and I would be in trouble if we came to an uninhabited island?”

Ace: “Ah!? They’re both mermaids…!”

Floyd: “Right. It’s not a big deal to dive into the ocean, and swim to other land.”

Floyd: “That’s why we don’t have any troubles.”

Floyd: “But, what about you guys? If you can’t leave the uninhabited island like this…it’d be a real problem, right?”

Ace: “Greedy~~~! This is extortion!”

Jack: “You’re threatening us even during such an emergency!”

Azul: “You threaten me. I’m just asking ‘What can I do to help?’.”

Azul: “Well, depending on that response, it might be too late to call for help…”

Floyd: “We’re saving your life, so we have to get a reasonable price. Are you going to be our servants for the rest of your life?”

Azul: “No, I’m not a demon, either. Taking into account the situation…”

Azul: “I’ll make a deal with you, ‘When you return to school, you’ll do whatever I say for a week’.”

Floyd: “Wow, Azul is super generous~. That’s such a great deal.”

Jack: “YOU’RE NOT GENEROUS AT ALL!”

Ace: “But, there’s no other choice… If all we have to do is whatever he says for a week, it’s certainly an exceptional condition…”

Riddle: “Ugh…we’re completely in the palm of their hands. It’s frustrating…..I don’t want to nod!”

Lilia: “I don’t mind either way. What will you do, Yuu?”

Yuu:

“I want to go back to school.”

Grim: “Certainly…if I really can’t leave this uninhabited island, I won’t be able to eat tuna cans anymore!”

“I can manage on my own…”

Ace: “…Hey, hey, you’re warming up? Are you planning on swimming to find land!?”

Jack: “Think about it, you can’t do it! Even Grim knows it’s impossible!”

Grim: “Did you just make a fool of me!?”

Grim: “Guh……Alright! I promise to listen to you! So, hurry up and call for help!”

Floyd: “Aha. Everyone is so honest and good children.”

Floyd: “Then, I’ll revert back to a mermaid and swim. For the coconut crabs who can barely swim♡.”

Riddle: “Who’s a coconut crab? Stop looking so smug!”

Lilia: “Still, the power of mermaids is certainly reliable in the sea. They’ll find land in no time, and come back.”

Azul: “Right. I’ll bring help, so please relax.”

Floyd: “Then, we’re going.”

*SPLASH*

Lilia: “Now then. Those two dived into the sea, and we’re a glowing beach flag…” (T/N: I’m going to assume that Lilia means they’re all wearing bright colors, and can be easily seen. I spent like five minutes staring at the words “beach flag” unsure of what he meant.)

*Splash*

Lilia: “Hm?”

Grim: “Huh, Azul and Floyd are back.”

Ace: “Eh, isn’t it too soon to find land…wait, you two haven’t turned into mermaids.”

Jack: “What happened? You have scary faces.”

Azul: “…I can’t go back.”

Ace: “Huh? Go back? What do you mean?”

Azul: “I’M SAYING I CAN’T GO BACK INTO A MERMAID!”

Everyone: “HUH!?”

Floyd: “Something’s wrong with this outfit…it sticks to my body, and I can’t take it off.”

Floyd: “I thought these were just cool clothes, but maybe they have magic.”

Floyd: “Because of that, I can’t turn into a mermaid. Ahahaha, what a strange thing~.”

Floyd: “It's refreshing to swim in human form. I thought a uninhabited island would be easy and boring, but it might be interesting!”

Lilia: “Right, right! An uninhabited island in extreme conditions is fun. There’s no time to be bored.”

Lilia: “That’s right……should we prepare a campfire first?”

Floyd: “I like it~. Seems interesting.”

Azul: “THIS ISN’T FUNNY AT ALL!”

Azul: “The phones have no signal. The sky is no good, the sea is no good. This is an uninhabited island with no people. So then……”

Riddle: “…Do you mean that we’ve completely lost any form to seek help from the outside world?”

Everyone: “…………”

Ace: “Huh? No, no, that……eh?”

Ace: “We really can’t leave this island?”

Ace: “………You’re kidding, right?”

Jack: “T-There could be other ways!”

Jack: “It’s useless to fly high, but maybe low at sea level, we might be able to escape.”

Riddle: “Of course. We shouldn’t give up so easily. Okay, let’s keep on trying.”

Azul: “T-That’s right.”

Azul: “This is no problem at all. I’m sure we’ll find a way to escape this island soon.”

Grim: “I’ll also look for a way to escape!”

To be continued…

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst spoilers #lost in the book with stitch #translations not 100% accurate

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 3 months

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Rite and Wrong - a Malevolent fic

There is more than one way to care for an eldritch god.

And more than one way to prove his character - whether or not he knows he's being tested.

Part of the Surrogate series.

AO3

-----------

Cinderella never asked for a prince. She asked for a night off and a dress.” - Kiera Cass

Preparations were underway for the Spring Rite, and Hastur wouldn’t be able to slip out this time because they were watching him like a bunch of annoying featherless hawks.

Acting like he was fragile (accurate). Which was insulting (heartfelt). And could be dangerous (revealing) if they figured out his plan.

And things were getting dangerous now. He was beginning to deal with peers less inclined to ally. A mistake could mean not coming home some morning, and his family was not ready.

He hadn’t even finished preparations for the birthday yet—birthdays, because Faroe would not leave it alone.

(And she was right, and Arthur should be celebrated.)

(And that teeny, tiny nagging pain of robbing Arthur of a proper marking ceremony years ago still lingered, but what’s done was done.)

It was fine. It was handled. Everything was okay. He would manage.

And then Dagon decided to get involved, and the whole schedule went sideways.

“Hastur!” called the Father of the Deep, the Crafter of Waves, the Golden Patriarch. “Get your ass over here and lemme see what we got to work with.”

Hastur—who had been on his way out to face another challenge—stopped and stared at him. “What?”

Dagon gestured. He was in fine form tonight; his scales glimmered strangely as though hiding glimpses of deep water, and his fins looked sharp enough to cut the very air. “C’mere. Don’t make me squid-nap you.” He chortled to himself. “Squid-nap. Heh, heh, heh.”

Hastur stared.

“C’mere,” Dagon repeated.

“I do not have time for… whatever this is,” Hastur said, hovering closer with grave caution. “I’m due in Alala’s presence this evening. If I can out-sing him, he’ll ally with me.”

Dagon huffed, eyes in shadow. “Dumb reason to ally.”

“Yes,” Hastur agreed. “However, it must be done.”

Dagon grinned. It was not a safe grin.

Hastur stopped approaching. “What do you want?” he said a little too loudly.

Wicked fast, Dagon lunged and threw his meaty arm around Hastur’s shoulders (and Hastur grunted). “You’re not running out this time.”

“Excuse me?” Hastur said, swelling, tentacles rising.

“You,” Dagon said, poking Hastur’s gold-robed chest, “are taking part in the fucking Rite this year.”

“Well, of course I am,” said Hastur huffily.

“We’re doing a practice run tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“To get you ready. Time I’m done, you’re gonna be… how the fuck do the humans put it? The belle of the ball.”

“I don’t want to be a belle,” Hastur complained.

“Gonna ring all theirs, then,” said Dagon. “Shut up and come with me.”

“Dagon. I have an appointment.”

“And you’re gonna show up sizzling hot.”

“Dagon. They’re made of sound. They won’t give a fuck what I look like.”

“You’ll be so sexy they can hear it,” Dagon said, dragging him down the hall.

“I am perfectly capable of enamoring without help! ” Hastur said, and attempted to resist.

Dagon kept pulling.

The room warped, just slightly. Something in the wall to the left cracked. It was, in a way, scary: a reminder that while in raw power, they were matched (and Hastur was sure he could defeat him via strategy, as Dagon’s usually was hit it real hard until it stops moving ), physically, Dagon was stronger.

Well. It wasn’t worth damaging the palace over. Hastur gave up. “Can we please do this quickly?”

“Sure,” Dagon lied.

Late. He was going to be late. And of course, with impeccable timing, they ran into Faroe on their way back out.

She stopped mid-jog and gasped.

“You ought not to be up,” Hastur chided.

Faroe put her hands to her mouth and made a high-pitched happy squeal. “Dad! You look amazing!”

“I know a thing or two about a thing or two,” said Dagon wisely.

Was that Dis back there? It was. What on earth was going on? Some training thing?

He could pursue this later. “My darling, I have to go. I’m late for an appointment.”

“Yes, yes, of course, you… dad, you really look good,” Faroe said with pride, inspecting him. “I love these rings.”

“Can’t go wrong with hammered gold,” said Dagon.

Hastur sighed.

She bounced on her toes. “Can you do this for my birthday?”

Hastur relented. “Something similar, then.”

“Not too similar. Don’t wanna start a riot,” Dagon drawled as Faroe giggled.

Sigh. “I must go.”

“Is that paint, or did you recolor yourself to match the sky?” said Faroe as he headed for the door.

“Gave him the idea,” said Dagon.

“I have done it before on my own, ” Hastur said defensively, and finally got away.

There. That would be the end of it. One ally soothed, another on the horizon. Back to business. There wasn’t time for pleasure.

Of course, Faroe talked.

“He turned gold?” said Arthur.

“Not gold,” said Faroe. “Sort of a cousin of gold, dark, like… a dream of remembered gold, and polished shiny. And there were these dark shadows in his hide, not quite like words, but really close, like he’d named all the stars on his skin, and if you looked at them, you felt like you were falling into them. It was incredible!”

Sounds gross, said John.

“Oh, don't be jealous,” said Arthur. “What was all this for?”

“Uncle Dagon said, ‘Becuz he needed help gettin’ raght in the hea-ud,’” she quoted, massacring his accent.

“For the… yeah, that’s coming up, ain’t it?” said Parker. He stirred their anise and raisin belila.

Given that he skipped the last one, perhaps this is for the best. Maybe… he’s out of practice. Sunny had no face to make that a dead-pan delivery, but somehow, he managed. It must have been an inside joke because the two of them laughed.

He’s not out of practice! said John as though they’d said it about him (who was out of practice).

“Maybe we can help,” said Parker, wearing a grin like few John had ever seen.

Faroe perked up. “We could.”

“Wait a minute,” said Arthur. “What are we doing?”

“Helping him get ready for prom night, Lester,” said Parker, deadpan himself. He and Sunny laughed again.

Arthur looked so confused.

Faroe bounced. “Dress-up,” she whispered with such excitement that everyone there knew Arthur’s participation was a given.

At least, it would be. “What?” Arthur said weakly. “There is absolutely no way he’s going to let us… wait, is this even wise? What—you want us all to help him prepare for a… for…”

“More gold!” Faroe cried.

“She’s got the spirit,” grinned Parker.

I believe it will be a due service—nay, even an act of worship, should we do it well—building him back up and reminding him who he is, said Sunny loftily. Assuming we can keep from laughing.

Parker lost it again, and Sunny joined him.

“We can put things on his crown!” Faroe whispered, bouncing again.

“But,” said Arthur helplessly.

“Yeah,” said Parker. “Loved what you did last winter.”

“But,” said Arthur helplessly.

“Oh, the flower chain?” She sounded proud.

“But,” said Arthur helplessly. “She shouldn’t… know about any of this.”

An uncomfortable pause.

“Why not?” said Faroe.

Parker got it. He sighed. “She didn’t grow up in Arkham, Lester. As I see it, that’s not a bad thing. She won’t ever have the baggage you and I had to deal with. Your little girl’ll never know shame like you and me.”

Arthur reared back, unseeing eyes wide. “You’re right. Oh, gods, you’re right. Faroe, darling, you’re doing so well.”

Faroe was quite confused. “Okay, dad.”

Parker grinned like a shark. “Let’s make a plan. We’re gonna have to jump him again, but with supplies.”

“Supplies?” Arthur said helplessly.

Parker grinned. “Time for you to learn about some experiences I had that didn’t have nothing to do with being a P.I.,” he said. “I fuckin’ know what to do with a makeup brush.”

The birthday celebrations were complicated by the changes in Carcosa. Madness did not for good hospitality make.

“Fuck,” Hastur muttered alone in his war room, moving little painted names around the Carcosan map by effort of will. He couldn’t host the visitors from Celephaïs in the usual quarters, which would shift the other delegations elsewhere. The incoming merchants and sky-fire wizards probably would not benefit from going mad, either, so he’d have to put them in the—

Knock on the door?

He did not have time for this. Hastur growled, low and threatening, and opened that door with tentacles raised, ready to hurt something.

Nothing?

He looked down.

Parker Yang and Sunny stood there, both peering up at him with great attention. “Hey,” said Parker.

What the fuck? Had they ever even approached this room before? “What do you want?” Hastur said.

“You’re about… sixteen foot, I think?” said Parker.

“What?” said Hastur.

About that, yes.

“You planning on being this height for the Rite?” said Parker.

Hastur stared.

Hastur really stared.

“I am unclear as to the purpose of this inquiry,” Hastur finally said.

“Can you give me a minute and a half?” said Parker with a sharp, New-England edge that Hastur recognized from many of his cultists (and honestly enjoyed).

“Ninety seconds,” Hastur warned.

Parker scooted into the room, dodging tentacles, and clambered onto a tall side-table. He had to pull himself up to do it, a particularly smooth feat of strength that in any other circumstance would have pleased the hell out of Hastur and given him ideas.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Hastur growled.

There, Parker stood, squinting. He held up his hands and made a square between index fingers and thumbs. “Right. Got it. You good?”

Yes.

“We won’t bug you again, sir. Thank you,” said Parker, smoothly hopping back down, and he just fucking left.

Hastur had questions. Hastur had concerns. And pursuing any of them would require Parker staying longer and eating more time, so Hastur relegated it all to weird human idiocy and went back to planning his daughter’s celebration.

Hastur was wise enough to account for extra nonsense before both Rite and birthday(s). It figured that part would go according to plan.

Hastur flew through the halls, billowed through the streets, demanded (and received) perfection from every stall, in every hall, through every window, out every door. Every single room had to be just right for this wild, dual time of emotion and power.

(So few birthdays with her left. So few. This would never be enough to show how much he loved her, but he would make a damned good effort.)

That damned Rite. He wouldn’t skip out, couldn’t get away with it, but if only it didn’t eat so many hours—

“Dad?” Faroe said.

“Yes, my darling?” he said, stopping his forward charge, turning to face her.

She held up a soft, gold fabric that shimmered like water. On its own, it fluttered, lighter than air. “Do you like this?”

He did. He slid his finger-tips over it with a contented sigh. “Yes. Where did you find it?”

“All the way in the back of storeroom eleven,” she chirped.

He studied it. Yes; yes, he remembered now. “My darling, this is thousands of years old.”

“The spells preserved it. I’d like you to use it, dad. For the Rite.”

This again? “I have plans for the Rite already.”

“Please?” And oh, oh, oh, she turned those big eyes on him, and it didn’t matter that she only had two (though it did that they were Arthur’s eyes ). They carried more power than spells of Outer Gods.

He hesitated.

She stuck her lower lip out just a bit.

“Overselling it,” he said, but a warm rumble undercut his displeasure.

She smiled, impish. “I know. Please, dad?”

“Clever little thing.” He chuckled. “Very well. I’ll wear it for the Rite.”

She hopped up and down. “Yay! Thank you! I’ll give it to your Dancers!” And off she ran, little boots making much less noise than they ought, her training with Dis showing even now, even here.

What a strange request.

What a strange event.

What… ever. It didn’t matter. Hastur got back to work.

Hastur paused by the piano room and shivered. Arthur was really outdoing himself in there, and before Hastur realized what he was doing, he almost joined them.

He froze, one hand on the door. No; no. He wasn’t thinking clearly. If he went in there now, he’d drift on that incredible music, lose time, and he had none to spare. But oh—

Arthur was singing. John was singing.

There weren’t words because that would have cheapened it, locked meaning down and limited, but their voices rose in parallel harmony to thread between chords and under rhythm, to join many parts into one moving-sliding-driving whole, and standing there, listening, Hastur hungered.

Hungered like he hadn't in a while. Hungered like he hadn't in... he wasn't sure how long.

Well.

This would be a hell of a Rite. He changed directions and went to ensure the wards preventing the celebration from spilling into the city were strong.

Alala wasn’t satisfied. Alala wanted a rematch. Alala was an ass, and Hastur spent three valuable minutes roaring and smashing a wall to get himself back under control.

Tonight was fucked. He had been going to deal with Queen Mother F’ylgija, who would be temperamental and demanding and probably insist on marrying him or trying to marry off one of her kids (who’d been busy making babies on the side and turning the Kandan plane into a fucking war zone), and he would not be doing any of that, but there wouldn’t even be time because fucking Alala needed attention first.

Hastur sliced another minute out so he could crush more stone.

“You all right in here?” Dagon drawled from what remained of the doorway.

“Fuck!” was Hastur’s reply.

Dagon nodded wisely. “Yeah,” he said. “Say. How about we split it?”

“What?” said Hastur. “I don't have time for another session of vanity.”

Dagon waved his hand and shook his head. “Naw. I meant being your fuckin’ ally. I'll take Alala tonight.”

Hastur went still.

“I ain’t good with the fiddly negotiations,” said Dagon. “Dame Dumbass F’ylgija’s all yours. But I know Alala. We sung together before, and I know for a fact I can sing him under the rug.”

“I am better at singing than you,” said Hastur because he had to say something, because this suddenly felt too much, because he couldn’t be falling behind this early in Kayne’s “season” or he’d never make it to the end.

Dagon shrugged, ego unbothered. “I'm louder. Trust me. That's what they want, not skill.”

And he could go deal with F’ylgija. But was this all right? Could he really do this?

Was it cheating?

Was it failing?

Was it failing her ?

“Lemme help, Hastur,” said Dagon quietly. “Rite’s in four days. You're too wound up to fuck right now without killing somebody, and this here Rite’s about life. Come on. Lemme help.”

“I can’t afford to lose Alala’s favor,” Hastur said. “He’s too tied to Gol-goroth already, and if Gol-goroth declares war on us the way I think he will—”

“I'll have your back,” said Dagon with a shrug. “And he comes against me, Basatan’ll join in. Crabby bastard owes me. You’ll be okay.”

He didn’t have a choice.

Dagon had moved closer. Lightly, he elbowed Hastur (and Hastur grunted). “Go on. Git.”

“Thank you,” said Hastur quietly, and took off. Appeasing F’ylgija would take all fucking night.

Three days to the Rite. F’ylgija gave in and made a blood contract with only a few overwrought demands. Good, because this close, Hastur couldn’t travel anymore, but focused on protections for his people, participating and otherwise.

Two days to the Rite. Carcosa sang with power, with desire, with the under-thrum of promised life and renewing pleasure, with the delicate and deep-felt pulse that built on itself to catch fantasies and needs and draw them toward the promised day. Hastur gathered supplies, ensuring everyone could leave satisfied after.

One day to the Rite, and Hastur discovered his personal wardrobe compromised.

Distracted, he floated into his room in a rush, and stopped so suddenly that air blasted his robes forward like a graceful underhand wave.

His demented family —found, forced, flabbergasting—stood together with paints and fabrics and a host of Dancers Faroe had commandeered. Dagon was not here, but Hastur knew he had been because of the lingering hint of fish.

“Surprise!” said Faroe.

“Surprise?” repeated Hastur as they came toward him in a not at all frightening way from which he would not retreat because this was ridiculous.

“Dad,” said Faroe firmly, holding his gaze, absolutely serious (and adorable and authoritative and queenly and cute). “We're helping you get ready tonight.”

He was completely confused. “What? Why?”

And of all people, it was Parker who answered. “These two suck at explaining, so I will. They care about you. You’re fucked up because of how it all went down with your son. They want you to heal and remember who you are, so they're making you real fucking pretty tonight so you feel cared for.”

Pampered, added Sunny.

“Loved,” said Faroe.

“Not alone,” whispered Arthur.

Worshipped, John finally said.

Hastur stared as they surrounded him, as they climbed onto step-ladders Faroe conjured (oh, he was so proud of her), as Dancers swirled around him with fabrics and hammered gold, as Parker applied makeup with a shocking grace and surety, as John shouted encouragement (or derision), as Arthur just generally urged everyone on and said it smelled good or that a fabric was nice.

Hastur forgot to even breathe.

What… was this?

“Hold still, dad,” said Faroe, lifted on Parker's shoulder like she weighed nothing, and she began threading a creation of gossamer gold and rainbow pearls through the tines of his crown.

What was this? “Stop.”

They might have obeyed (sure they would) except Faroe wouldn’t allow it. “No,” she said.

Was she truly defying him? Why was it adorable? “No?”

“No. It's been a terrible month for you, dad. Let us do this.”

“Have a fuckin’ blast,” said Parker. “We will.”

Sunny cleared his throat.

“We want to help you. Just take it, Hastur,” said Arthur, low and firm. “Look. You have humans around you now. This is how humans show they care. We step in and help you when you're weak.”

“I am not weak,” Hastur said pathetically.

You are mighty, said Sunny with wisdom and patience. And like all living things, you still occasionally benefit from aid.

They… wanted to help him? Granted, with something he fully could handle on his own, but they… wanted to help him? Not even for themselves, or for something that would matter to them in any way, but they… wanted to help him?

“Oh, shit,” said Parker.

Gloves, said John. The tears will burn you.

“The paint,” said Parker.

“It’s waterproof,” said Faroe. “Carry on.”

And he was laughing, not crying (really!), because she was adorably imperious, but there were still tears tumbling out and he wasn’t even sure why, and the urge to just gather his family all up and hold them tight was—

Arthur patted his side. “Almost there. I have to go get ready.”

“He’ll follow you soon,” said Faroe.

“No,” said Hastur, surprised at how unstable his voice was. “I will bring him. He and John must be by my side, shown as having my approval.”

“Sure, sure,” said Parker, and continued painting. “There. Good?”

Magnificent, purred Sunny.

Faroe held up a small box of glittering gold. “Last part.”

She and Parker plunged their hands into the box and began affixing dangling, jingling gold wherever it would go. And if his tears glittered more still, no one took that poorly.

Carcosa had changed in the last few months. Entire sections were uninhabitable by mortal standards, and the palace itself had been freed from simple things like ordinary angles and measurable walls… which only made this Rite much more appealing.

Madness and sex were a great combination. At least according to the ones who made others mad.

The place was packed. Between allies and drama and mysteries and poison and madness, this city had never seen such a visiting tide, hungry for gossip and gratification. The room for celebration was enormous, equipped with a piano and space for more instruments, but today, held only that one. The far wall was gone, replaced with a series of arches open to the colorful twilight.

And Hastur was slightly late.

Nobody worried about that. He wouldn’t be the Peacock King without a hell of an entrance.

Gossip flowed, a steady current, sweeping even the stoic off their feet. There were so many questions; how many humans was the King in Yellow going to collect? Rumor had it they’d all been seen coming out of his quarters more than once. What was that about?

He’d always liked humans (who didn’t?), but as cultists, as slaves, as toys—breakable and replaceable and dramatic. Then he’d gone bonkers. Apparently. And produced a half-human child and pretended to hate the moth… parent as part of his usual drama, and then—

“He’s here!” whispered the observant, and they all turned to see.

A delicate jingling, a shivering-light sound that pattered over skin and senses, came weightless from above and drew all eyes up.

Hastur floated down from the sky. Long yellow strips of shimmering fabric fluttered and billowed out around him like tendrils with minds of their own, moving in a graceful dance with the splay of his wide, dark tentacles—which were all held out and curved in the proper, full form of the yellow sign, and somehow glowed as if brushed with subtle gold dust. The jingling came from twinkling bits of gold—chain and bell—that dangled from hide and whisper-thin silk, and when he came into view, it only served to frame his beauty.

Someone had painted his skin. They’d kissed the shadows between his limbs, between the tightly-coiled power of his tentacles, hinting at gold fire within his ebony form. And in his hand, held gentle against his tulle-striped chest, was the Composer.

Numerous rumor-mongers swapped allegiance. At the back of the room, the Yithians who’d won the right to attend thanks to their victory in the Games made soft, happy clacks, and some of them hugged.

Hastur landed silently, lightly, still holding his Composer. “My guests. My people. I welcome you, ” he said, and his power wrapped around and through and in and between, and nobody even noticed when he placed Arthur at the piano, but they sure noticed when Arthur began to sing.

He didn’t do it alone. John sang with him, identical notes an octave apart, a simple pattern of nine notes climbing and falling. Then, he began to play.

John jumped into harmony below, parallel, as the tempo of Hastur’s hearts surged in Arthur’s hands. And it was so simple; a descending and surprising progression, repeated, repeated again, and repeated again, bigger and broader, not the orchestral wonder of Rites past but a persistent and weirdly holy offering, and when they ended singing an open perfect fifth, the progression played around them once last time, and the austere power of long-ago chants and a strange personal gratitude mixed to create something new, a soaring and wordless climax.

They stopped.

Silence, but for heavy breathing, rapid and needy.

Hastur lifted Arthur more tenderly than in early times and placed him within the portal to his rooms.

It was time to begin. Hastur turned—and directly behind him was a box.

No one noticed. They were already busy, and it was clear Hastur would not be alone at the front for much longer, but this box—

Large. White. Square. Secured with an enormous red ribbon tied in a bow.

It had not been there a moment before. Whatever power delivered it was above Hastur’s paygrade, and he hadn’t even felt it arrive.

There was a note.

What’s a prom without a date? - Sloppy love and kisses, K

What?

Wh… what?

He should feel fear. Terror. But the thick magic had him fully soused, and Hastur opened the box without hesitation.

It held two things: a small packet of belongings including musical instruments, secured with a simple piece of twine, and also a man.

A naked one, tied up with a single huge ribbon that matched the box’s red and ended in an enormous bow between his legs.

The man said “H-hello,” in a spooked and shaky voice.

Hastur lifted him out.

The man wasn’t any species he knew. Coal-dark skin, smooth as ice, and almost fluffy white hair like snow; horns grew from his head, and he had a long tail ending in a white puff. Lovely. Absolutely lovely.

“I’m s-sorry to intrude,” said the man, slurring, sounding as drunk as Hastur felt. “I’d happily g-get out of your hair, but I’m a bit t-tied up, as you can see!”

Soft. So soft. So incredibly soft. Hastur stroked the tail, amazed at the feel of its twitching muscle and responsive fluff. Oh. He wanted to touch all of this.

But the man was… crying?

Hastur looked at his face: beautiful, expressive, sharp-jawed and full-lipped, a deeply usable mouth. Tears slid down those high-boned cheeks, and his face was tight with terror.

Oh, no.

The man hitched. “Y-you’ll have to forgive my babbling! It’s my first time, after all!” And he tried (maybe) to nervously laugh.

Hastur was drunk, warm with rising magic and the glory of promised passion… but this fellow’s terror got through.

Hastur felt bad (and didn’t analyze why). He opened the portal again (and didn’t think about his reason), and gently placed both man and box on Arthur’s floor. Then he closed the portal and turned back to his room.

“Fuck was that?” said Dagon, who’d stalked up on him with all the speed and silence of a deep-sea predator.

“Nothing for now,” said Hastur (and did not quantify his empathy, for it was very new). He faced his peer, all but swimming in the heat of power and desire.

“Good,” said Dagon like thunder from the horizon, like storm clouds from the sea. “Don’t want any distractions tonight.” And he reached.

The fuck! said John, whose poetry recitation had gotten as far as Your eyes are the color of. It’s a guy!

“What?” said Arthur, half undressed, and raised his fists. “Where?”

He… he's tied up?

Whoever it was made the noisy kind of inhalation when the throat was tight with fear. The sound came from the floor. “Help me!”

“Oh, gods,” said Arthur, and followed the panicked sounds.

Laughter bounced around the Scriptorium like thrown knives.

“Oh my god,” Tabby groaned again. “Oh my god.”

The Keeper said nothing. Several hands covered her unseen face, but the power of her blush sent pink light leaking through the black veils. “Why?”

“Did you see his face?” Kayne said from where he rolled on the floor. “Had that little guy in storage for months now. He doesn’t even know what year it is!”

“Poor Odd,” whispered the Keeper.

“He’s fine. Better than my original plan for him. Bloodier, messier, you don’t want to know. I mean. You probably do (I was gonna skin him and dump him in Carcosa as a sort of early birthday surprise, you know), but he just… well, he’s adorable!” Kayne half-sat up, smiling, demonic, unrepentant, wicked. “Just so fucking charming! So instead, I kept him. And look! Look! Did you see Hastur? He was all—” Kayne imitated bafflement, hands curved in the question marks Hastur’s tentacles sometimes formed, then laughed again, every breath bladed, and rolled on the Keeper’s cold marble tiles.

Tabby walked away in disgust.

The Keeper sighed. At least Hastur had not done what was expected. That… spoke volumes about the changes the Lesters had wrought.

Odd, the Keeper thought, had a chance.

--------

Notes:

No prince. Only a boy in a box and a wild moral test that someone didn't even realize they passed.

#malevolent #malevolent au #malevolent fic #arthur lester #john doe #kiy malevolent #hastur malevolent #dagon #kayne malevolent #faroe lester

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dear-mrs-otome · 1 year

Text

Tamamo - Main Story - Chp 01

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes if/when they come to English.

If you are unfamiliar with the story of Ikemen Genjiden, I will direct you to read the excellent prologue summaries posted by @/sakura-samsura here - these are the updated ones that include the introductions of the newer characters as well. You may notice discrepancies between my character's onscreen name, Aya, and what I use in the translations, but given that Yoshino is the 'canon' name and I prefer writing that over 'MC' I will use it in these stories.

Done with all that? Then carry on, and meet our mischievous fox.

Outside the gates of the shogunate’s castle, Yoshino is reminding herself of her goals now: absorb enough magical mojo to fulfill her pact with Tamamo, and open her own apothecary business. With an enthusiastic cheer, she thanks the gathered men and says she looks forward to working with them and offers Yoritomo a respectful bow.

Tamamo, looking on proudly, strokes her head and praises her energetic good cheer. “That’s just like my girl,” he declares, as she awkwardly thanks him.

He brushes it off, thanking her instead for her honest nature with a smile, and she can’t help blushing slightly under his compliments and his hand on her hair.

Shigehira though voices his obvious mistrust of Tamamo, and the two bicker slightly as Tamamo mocks him back, clearly enjoying pushing the prickly man’s buttons.

Yoshino looks on, fretting, and tries to break up the squabble insisting they shouldn’t get off on the wrong foot if they’re all gonna be comrades.

Kagetoki cuts her off though. “Comrade’s a bit far. We’re just agreeing to use each other for our own ends, aren’t we?”

She’s appalled at his mercenary categorization, but Kagetoki insists it’s important to be clear about these sorts of things, leaving her stunned.

At a word from Yoritomo, Morinaga threatens both Shigehira and Kagetoki and they both step back from him, clearly chastized...and she’s left wondering if this bizarre dynamic is what passes for the norm around the shogunate. Morinaga insists they’ll get to know each other better soon enough, no need to sweat the small stuff now, which only sours Shigehira’s mood even further.

“Troublesome man…” Tamamo says at Shigehira’s continued suspicions. “Do you want to know who I am?” His eyes gleam gold, preternatural in the dim night light as he surveys each of them. “I am Tamamo, the Nine-Tailed Fox. Nothing more, nothing less. And I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, humans.”

They all look at him, stunned into silence, as Yoshino thinks that he really didn’t answer ANY question at all.

Shigehira grumbles as much aloud, and Kagetoki agrees. “The only thing we know for sure at this point is he’s a troublemaker.”

Yoritomo muses how the more tails a fox has, the higher its power - and he’s heard that the nine-tailed fox, a kyuubi, is a once-in-an-era being.

“Tamamo’s that big of a deal?!” Yoshino asks, stunned to realize exactly what sort of ayakashi she’s gotten herself tied to - and realizing it’s no wonder he’s got such a dignified air about him if he’s such an illustrious being.

“Feel free to worship me,” Tamamo agrees with a genial smile, to her sputtering protest. “No matter then...give it time, and my greatness will come to you.”

She wonders again at the circumstances that have led to him choosing HER of all people to ally himself with...as Kagetoki points out dryly in the background that currently Tamamo has nowhere near enough power left to assume that anyone would revere him.

The two bicker a little now too, Tamamo bristling slightly at Kagetoki’s implications while Kagetoki tells him the equivalent of ‘put up or shut up’ - that it’s not about what you’d done in the past but what you can still do that matters. “My power will eventually recover,” Tamamo reminds him.

“I certainly hope so, or else that’s a real problem,” Yoritomo interjects, looking around at the people gathered there, exuding the dignified confident air she’d expect of the shogun. “All of you, human or not, I have just one thing to say to you - do your job well.”

Tamamo assures him there’s no cause to worry there, and his self-assured smile only serves to highlight his beauty in the luminous moonlight...as Yoshino looks on, wondering if things will really be as simple as all that.

The next morning finds her and Tamamo invited to a meeting with Yoritomo. She’s trying to hustle Tamamo through the corridors, as he keeps getting distracted and gawking at different decorations and other things, strolling leisurely along as she frets.

He whines as they go about humans misguided priorities, and how looking at the art on the walls in infinitely preferable to going and staring at a bunch of dude’s faces.

She scolds him again, saying they can’t keep Yoritomo waiting - the very idea terrifying her because he seems so stern. Tamamo assures her though they’re too valuable to Yoritomo for him to do anything to them.

“Even so, he could still say something terrible!” she insists, reminding Tamamo that Yoritomo IS the shogun and therefore basically the leader of everything they know. It illustrates the difference between ayakashi and human outlooks, she thinks.

Tamamo finally relents though and admits that it’s obvious Yoritomo has power and influence, if only because it’s illustrated by his rough, samurai-filled war-oriented castle still holding many valuable items of art and craft from all corners of the world.

“It seems the samurai came to great power while I was sleeping in that stone,” he observes. “It’s fascinating to see the changes of the human world, isn’t it Yoshino?”

Finally, they make it to the gathering hall and find all of the shogun’s head retainers gathered there with Yoritomo - Kagetoki, Morinaga, and Shigehira, along with more than a dozen other samurai as well.

“Bold of you to be late to the very first meeting,” Kagetoki snipes, and she wilts under the weight of the stares of all those gathered as she wonders if she dares try for an excuse.

“Yoshino,” Tamamo says in a quiet voice only she can hear. “Just play along, and do as I do.”

Baffled, she watches as Tamamo steps forward and gracefully kneels, bowing his head. She hastens to copy him, as he begins to speak. “Unfamiliar with the place as I was, I found myself lost. I humbly beg your pardon, Lord Yoritomo.”

Yoshino blinks at the abrupt change in Tamamo, and looks around to see all of the samurai appear enraptured by Tamamo’s dazzling smile.

“Of course, of course - please, take a seat,” Yoritomo replies, fake-charming smile plastered firmly on his own face as Tamamo thanks him.

He and Yoshino head towards the last open seats as the samurai speak up, asking Yoritomo who the newcomers are. Yoritomo introduces Tamamo as a man who’s traveled from China and has paused in his journeys to share his knowledge with the shogunate.

Yoshino is startled by the smooth lie Yoritomo offers them, but the samurai all seem reassured that Tamamo’s strange air can be explained away by his foreignness.

“Please forgive me in advance for any rudeness, given that I am not yet familiar with the culture here,” Tamamo demurs, to a chorus of reassurances from the gathered men, and Yoshino notices that - perhaps due to the words of Yoritomo - the vassals all seem to have defaulted to using the most respectful language with Tamamo.

The men exchange more pleasantries and Yoshino is mostly just impressed with the slick improv of both Yoritomo and Tamamo on the spot - the two men bringing to mind to her a fox and a tanuki conversing, two shifty characters acting their parts so well.

“What about the woman, then?” one of the samurai finally asks. “ She doesn’t look like a foreigner at all.”

She’s nervous all over again as the attention shifts her way once more, introducing herself and saying she is usually a healer and now she’s acting as Tamamo’s assistant. They all clearly are still suspicious of her obvious commoner status though, especially in comparison to Tamamo’s elegance, and she’s sweating bullets now…

Only for a sweet scent to tickle her nose as an arm comes around her shoulders and pulls her closer. She realizes it’s the smell of incense that always clings to Tamamo, just as her cheek comes to rest against his firm broad chest. “I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on this woman in Kamakura,” Tamamo proclaims. “So forgive my impertinence in asking for your consideration of her during our brief stay.”

Yoshino’s sputtering to herself, stunned at his wild story - love? At first sight?? - when Tamamo interrupts her thoughts. “Isn’t that right, Yoshino?”

“What? Y-yes,” she stammers in confused agreement.

Tamamo goes on to say he needs some time to get used to living in their country, so please excuse Yoshino’s presence - he would consider it a great personal favor if they treated her kindly as well. The samurai are all so charmed and under Tamamo’s sway they agree immediately...and at Tamamo’s urging she manages to thank them all.

He finally releases her and she marvels all over again to herself at how easily he pulls one over on people, and how quickly he has them eating out of his hand - so well, in fact, it’s almost scary.

With that, Yoritomo gets the meeting underway and she sits back to listen to the reports and discussion, before Tamamo quietly asks her what’s up. She thanks him for his quick intervention when she had faltered. He says no biggie, and fudging things a bit like that won’t hurt anyone since they’re not staying there forever.

Shigehira calls them out for not paying attention and talking, but Tamamo just smiles nonplussed. “Forgive me. I was asking after a word I didn’t understand,” he smoothly lies, and Shigehira clams up sheepishly.

Then, regular business finished, Morinaga segues them to the next far more somber piece of business. “Minamoto no Yoshitsune is alive,” he tells the gathered men grimly. “From this moment on, the shogunate prepares for war.”

The stunning news ripples through the assembled men like wildfire, setting them abuzz with anxiety and apprehension until Kagetoki harshly tells them to be quiet and listen to what Yoritomo has to say. They immediately fall silent, and Yoritomo begins to explain the particulars - how Yoshitsune and his rebels have formed a base at the town of Hiraizumi, how they have been recruiting amongst the disenfranchised to swell their ranks, and that they plan to attack Kamakura.

The mood goes immediately somber.

“It is imperative that I crush this movement, destroy it entirely. To protect what we have created,” Yoritomo tells them all gravely. “Which of you will take up their sword and fight at my side? Are there any among you that will brave the very gates of hell with me?”

“Yes! We will give our all for the shogunate!” the assembled men cry. “For Lord Yoritomo!”

As she watches, the men erupt in a fervor, battlelust written plain on their faces...and she realizes what a unimaginable place she’s found herself in, via circumstances utterly beyond her control. She glances over at Tamamo beside her, the source of all of this -

“I’m getting bored,” he proclaims, stifling a yawn, and she wonders if he’s truly that uninterested in human warfare.

After the meeting she returns to her quarters, exhausted by the morning’s events, and ponders how out of place she feels here in the midst of all these samurai. All of her prior anxieties rise up to nip at her heels again, and just as she’s about to slide into another funk she hears Tamamo’s voice from outside, asking if she is in and if this is a good time.

Confused, she tells him it is and he sweeps in - with a veritable entourage of men and women burdened with trunks.

“Tamamo, who are all these people…?” she asks, baffled.

He smiles and reassures her, as the boxes are opened and their contents removed and lined up - the room overflowing with a bounty of colorful kimonos and accessories in a matter of moments. Seeing her stunned expression, Tamamo grins like a mischievous boy who is quite proud of himself. “Surprised? I called in a clothing merchant.”

“Merchant?” she echoes, as an assembly of men bow before her. “Whatever for?”

The merchants fall all over themselves, obsequious towards Tamamo, as he thanks them for bringing their wares to him - then he turns to take Yoshino’s hand, pulling her smoothly to her feet. She’s caught in his magnetic golden gaze as he draws her nearer…

“Would you like me to undress you, Yoshino?”

Chapter 02 >>

#ikemen genjiden #ikegen #ikegen tamamo #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen genjiden spoilers #ikegen spoilers #ikegen tamamo main story #mrs o's translations of dubious quality

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arya-skywalker · 3 months

Text

Atoms singing to the void (Arcane fanfic)

Summary: Something calls to Viktor through the Hexcore. Something dark and powerful. Something within him answers back. Viktor reaches out for help before it’s too late, seeking an alternate path.

Notes: Written for the Seasons Skirmish event, for saminating’s prompt “virus/corruption”. This was a fun excuse to explore a bit of Void!Viktor before the second season comes out! Hints of league lore, but I also took a few creative liberties. Hope you enjoy!

Tws: chronic illness, canonical character death (technically), partial possession, manipulation, nightmares, derealization, guilt, grief, questionable science/medicine, human experimentation (partially self-inflicted), amputation, body horror

AO3 Link

~*~

Viktor blinked, disoriented. There was no ground, yet he was standing. A glowing purple fog surrounded him. Dark tendrils like a tarred web were the only discernible landmarks in the endless mist. A strange gurgling-warbling-clicking echoed throughout.

“There you are. I was wondering when you’d show up,” a disembodied female voice said.

That sounded like—

“Sky?” Viktor spun around, searching for the voice.

“Right here, silly.” Sky smiled, appearing from the fog and walking towards him. “What did I tell you about fixing your sleep schedule?”

Viktor stared at her. “How is this possible? You shouldn’t— I saw you— your—“

“Does it matter? We’re here now. You’re overthinking.” Sky looked exactly as she had before she turned to ash.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor blurted. Whatever this was, however this happening, he had to say it. Once the words started, they kept tumbling out. “I… the Hexcore… I did not think it would take a life. I thought you had gone home for the night. I thought I was alone, that I was the only one at risk. I never wanted anyone to be hurt. I am sorry I did not notice you. That night and… before. You did not deserve to pay the price for my mistakes. It should have been me.”

Sky shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. I live on, here.” She smiled again, an eager light in her eyes. “Don’t you feel it? The power of this place? The energy? The magic? Everything you wanted can be yours. I can help you get it.”

Viktor took a breath, and realized his lungs were clear. There was no tightness, no urge to cough. The energy she spoke of surged through him. The possibilities at his fingertips were endless. “How?”

“The Hexcore. You were right, Viktor! You were always right. I knew from the moment I met you that you would do wonderful things!”

Viktor frowned. “But it hurt you. I cannot risk that it will hurt others.”

Sky took a step closer. “Piltover never accepted you, never respected you. With the Hexcore, you could bring the city down. Make those arrogant pilties worship the ground you walk on and beg for your mercy. The Undercity could rise above.”

His stomach dropped. He took a step back on the non-existent ground. “You are not Sky. Neither of us would want that. What are you?”

Her expression went cold. “You never asked. You barely took the time to know me. We were both ignored, pushed aside, looked down on. Don’t you think they should pay for that?”

Perhaps he didn’t know her as well as he wished, but this… this seemed a step too far. Sky had always been kind, gentle, patient. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Viktor tripped over the tendrils, barely catching himself before he could fall. “You are not Sky,” he repeated. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Not-Sky tsked. “You are smarter than we thought,” she said, her voice echoing. “I am her memories, the memories that exist within what you call the Hexcore. She did truly care for you, you know, and you ignored her at every turn.” She tilted her head to the side. “We want knowledge, power, the same things you want. We can help each other. All it takes is sacrifice, more blood and more…” She paused, as if searching for the word, “Shimmer.”

“And if I refuse?”

“One way or another, you will join us. It would be best if you did so willingly. Think about it.”

Everything vanished in a bright purple flash, followed by a deep darkness.

Viktor jerked awake with a violent cough, hitting his leg on the desk. His heartbeat, the thrumming of the Hexcore, and the pulsing of his altered limbs were in perfect sync. Perhaps it was only a nightmare, but something about it felt far too real.

~*~

“You want the secrets of magic? I can show you,” Not-Sky offered. “I have access to memories of many mages over the years. Join me, and those memories will be yours as well.”

Brief flashes of runes and mages passed too quickly to follow. The tantalizing glimpse left him wanting more. Yearning to understand, to harness the power for good. No books could replace the first-hand experience of a master. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, one that very few could possibly see.

But the price was too much. This thing that he created was far too volatile to be trusted. He couldn’t.

~*~

Viktor worked in the lab during his waking hours. Testing equations and rune combinations, sketching designs, tinkering with whatever was on hand. He carved more rune-plates, although he wasn’t exactly sure what for. They could always be useful for something, or so he told himself.

After coughing blood into a handkerchief, his altered hand tossed it at the Hexcore. An offering, however small. He wasn’t sure if he meant to.

The Hexcore absorbed it and spun faster, its light glowing brighter. It almost sounded like a laugh, echoing and garbled.

~*~

The infinite purple fog was replaced with a vast landscape. A dark sea stretched out in the distance. Everything was twisted, metallic with an inner purple glow. There were creatures too, mutated beings made of the same substances; with too many limbs or not enough. Some had human parts mixed with animal or insect, but none seemed natural by any means. The ruins of a city, growing spines and bioluminescent fungus, somehow alive but not. Everything about it was wrong, corrupt, otherworldly— but there was a strange beauty to it beyond the horror.

“See? This could be Piltover,” Not-Sky said, gesturing to the spires. “Help me take it. Let me recreate it. The people will never harm you again. Those that are left will see you as a god, honor you with the respect you deserve.”

Viktor shook his head, dread pooling in his stomach. “This is not what I want. Stop. Please.”

Not-Sky only smiled. “I know you, Viktor. I see into your mind. Deep down, I know you want to see them suffer as your people have suffered. I can make that happen.”

“No!” Viktor wrenched himself free of the vision. His altered limbs burned. He screamed.

~*~

Viktor couldn’t sleep. Every time he left the lab, he found himself right back again, trapped under the unnatural light of the Hexcore. It whispered to him, promises of power and knowledge and life unending. Sometimes he came up with excuses to be in the lab, something he had to work on, something he needed to finish before he ran out of time. Other times it was as if his altered limbs were drawn to it like a magnet, dragging him back against his will. His mind was foggy, dreams and reality blended together. He swore the tendrils were spreading across his body, slowly but surely. He was running out of reasons to defy it.

~*~

There were far too many Council meetings in Jayce’s opinion. War or peace, weapons or treaties, profit or lives, round and round in circles they went and nothing was ever decided— even if the solution seemed obvious to him. How could a government function like this? Mel should have known he didn’t have the mind for it, but now the city’s fate was his responsibility.

Jayce took a breath and opened the door to the lab, Hextech hammer in hand. He had made a promise. He intended to keep it. “Viktor?” he called, squinting in the odd purple light. Gods, how could he work in this darkness?

“I do not want to play these games,” Viktor said dully, hunched over his desk like a gargoyle. His complexion was ghostly pale in the unnatural light, his frame skeletal.

A chill went down Jayce’s spine. Something was very wrong. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”

Viktor scoffed. “One day you are Sky, another you are Jayce. I know neither are returning.” The words cut like a knife. He had waited too long.

Jayce rushed to his partner’s side. “Viktor, it’s me! I’m right here. I’m sorry. I know I should have come sooner, but… I’m here now.” He reached out to put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor froze, then blinked up at him. “You’re… here.” His expression flickered from confusion to relief to panic. “You should go. It isn’t… isn’t safe.” He tried to shove Jayce’s arm off, but his strength was frighteningly little.

“I told you I’d destroy it. Is that still something you want?” Jayce asked, lowering his voice but making sure to meet Viktor’s gaze.

Viktor nodded, cautiously. As if afraid of his response.

Jayce flashed a reassuring smile. “Then that’s what I’ll do. Stay back.” He backed away and lined up his shot. If anything could destroy it, surely a blast from the hammer would do the trick. If not, they would find another way. He took a breath and pressed the trigger.

Viktor screamed, an anguished bloodcurdling sound, and suddenly lunged at him. The hammer was thrown off course as he fell. The blast hit the ceiling with a resounding crash.

Jayce landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Viktor clawed at him with mindless fury. There was nothing in Viktor’s eyes but an eerie reflection of the Hexcore’s glow. Rubble from the ceiling rained down on them both.

“Viktor! It’s me!” Jayce tried to pry him off, heartbeat hammering in his ears. “I don’t want to hurt you, Viktor. Can you hear me?”

A beat passed. Another. No recognition. Viktor’s cold hand reached for his throat. They’d both die here if he didn’t do anything. Jayce shoved harder, throwing him off and flinching at the thud when Viktor hit the floor.

Viktor scrambled away, panting, eyes wide but finally human. “That… was a terrible idea. Never do that again.” His shot a glare at the Hexcore, then turned back to Jayce. “We need to go. Now. Carry me.”

“What the hell was that?!” Jayce snapped, rubbing his throat.

“I will explain later.” Viktor grabbed his hands, positioning them in a way that would not harm him. “The crutch too. Do not let go. Whatever I do, whatever I say, do not put me down until we are safely away from here. Understand?”

A million questions flashed through his mind, but Viktor’s desperate terrified gaze silenced him. Jayce nodded and carefully picked him up, holding him close. Despite being noticeably thinner, he was strangely heavier as well. Jayce stopped just long enough to let Viktor grab the crutch, then started to run.

Viktor squirmed and thrashed in his grip, kicking and hitting at every opportunity. Jayce only held on tighter, praying that he wasn’t hurting him. Eventually, Viktor stopped fighting, going limp in his arms. Jayce sighed in relief.

Not sure where else to go, he brought Viktor home, setting him down on a guest bed. Jayce sat by his side, waiting for him to wake.

~*~

Viktor slowly drifted to consciousness. He was in a bed. A soft bed. With soft sheets. That couldn’t be right. Was this another dream? The Hexcore trying to seduce him with luxury? He laughed at the thought, then coughed, jerking to full wakefulness. Not a dream. The dreams were the one place he didn’t feel pain.

“Viktor! Thank gods you’re awake. I’m here.” Jayce put a hand on his back, offering a glass of water with his free hand.

Jayce. Jayce was here. The real Jayce, not an illusion-dream-puppet of the Hexcore. Viktor ignored the water, clinging to Jayce and burying his face in his chest. Jayce was real. This was real.

Jayce held him close. “It’s okay. We’re safe,” he murmured. Viktor focused on his voice, the rise and fall of his chest, the warm arms around him. Nothing like the Hexcore. The Hexcore could not even pretend to care.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor mumbled finally. “I’m sorry.”

Jayce pulled away enough to look at him, concern in his eyes. “Something happened back there, but we can figure that out later. When was the last time you ate?”

Viktor blinked. Time had lost meaning to him, other than the fact that he was running out. What day was it? “I… I don’t…” he trailed off, aware of the hunger gnawing at his stomach.

“We’ll get some breakfast, then we can talk, alright?”

Viktor couldn’t find a reason to argue with that.

The food helped. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a warm home-cooked meal. It was heavenly. Beyond what he deserved.

“You deserve the truth,” Viktor said, once there was no other excuse to wait. “Please do not interrupt. I know it will be difficult to hear.”

He took a breath and told Jayce everything. The way the Hexcore took his blood, Shimmer, being able to run for the first time in his life, Sky attempting to save him only to lose her life, the nightmares. How he felt stuck in the lab, unable to be away from the Hexcore for long. How the Hexcore had sent agonizing pain and taken over his altered limbs when Jayce tried to destroy it. He apologized, hoping Jayce would understand but knowing he was beyond forgiveness.

Jayce was silent for a moment longer, absorbing the information. “Gods, Viktor. That’s… I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. It wasn’t your fault.” He was too kind. Too forgiving.

“Don’t.” Viktor held up his hand. “Don’t start. Do not try to excuse my actions. What I’ve done cannot be undone and I must live with it. My actions led to Sky’s death, and I nearly killed you. I cannot let that happen again. Heimerdinger was right; it could destroy entire civilizations and we must stop it before that happens.”

Jayce ran a hand through his hair. “How? What do we do next?”

Viktor hesitated for a moment, glancing out the window. “I need your help to get across the bridge.”

Jayce nodded, eager as always to be helpful. “Of course. Where are we going?”

“You are only going to the end of the bridge. I am returning to my… acquaintance from the Undercity. This madness is partially his fault, and if anyone can fix it, he can.” Or make it much worse. But Jayce didn’t need to know that part. He had enough to worry about. If Jayce knew the dangers that awaited, he’d never let him go. It was better this way.

“Alright. If you’re sure…” Jayce said. Viktor nodded.

As they walked, Viktor felt the unmistakeable tug of the Hexcore pulling him back. He only clung tighter to Jayce, gritting his teeth. Just a little further. There was nothing he needed in the lab, and every reason to avoid it. He didn’t want to go back, he needed to get to the Undercity.

The enforcers gave him a wary look, but Jayce’s presence was enough to let them through, as he had hoped. They walked in silence until they reached the end of the bridge.

“Well. I suppose this is it,” Viktor said, bracing himself on his crutch.

“I could still come with you—“

“No, Jayce. You stick out far too much. You think you are being stealthy, but everyone in the Undercity will only see an easy mark— or worse, a governmental figure they could use as leverage. It is better for me to continue on my own from here.”

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck. “That bad, huh?”

“You have many posters, Jayce. You are a symbol.” Viktor paused, then cracked a smile. “At least they are flattering. Even as a drawing you are undeniably attractive.”

“It was Mel’s idea,” Jayce protested, blushing slightly at the praise. “… but I get it. I won’t go any further, promise.”

“Good.” Viktor nodded. “I will send a message-tube when I am able. I am unsure when that will be, but do not set foot in the lab until I tell you to. The Hexcore will likely still be dangerous even if we manage to sever the connection. I will not return Topside until it is destroyed.”

“But you will return, right? We will see each other again.” Jayce was looking at him with those impossibly-large puppy eyes.

Viktor forced a smile. “Of course. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“I mean it. I’m not losing you, Viktor. This can’t be goodbye forever.”

Viktor sighed. “I will do my best to not die in the meantime.” He hesitated, then added, “But if this is the last time… Thank you, for everything. Despite the illness, my time with you has been by far the best years of my life. I would not trade it for the world.”

Jayce nearly crushed him in a hug. “You saved my life. I wish I could do the same.”

Viktor held on, savoring his touch one last time. “You already have.”

For a few minutes, they simply stood there, neither wanting to let go. Viktor ultimately was the first to pull away. “It’s time. Hold off the war for as long as you can, that would complicate things.”

Jayce nodded. “I’ll try. Just come back to me.”

“As soon as it is safe to do so. Farewell, Jayce.” Viktor turned and limped off to the Undercity. He didn’t look back— if he did he might never leave.

The trek down to the cave was more difficult than he remembered. His altered leg threatened to drag him down at every step. The air that he used to breathe every day of his life now burned with every breath. The rocks were slick, a fall at the wrong step could be deadly.

Still, he continued. One step at a time, one breath at a time. Despite the pain.

Finally, finally he reached the mouth of the cave, coughing and leaning heavily on his crutch.

“I take it the experiments did not go as you wished?” Singed asked. At least he had the decency to wait for the coughing fit to subside.

“No. Your Shimmer made it worse. You are going to fix it.” Viktor glared at him with as much energy as he could muster.

“Is that so?” Singed tilted his head to the side. “Do you often find yourself in fits of rage after the experiment?”

Viktor opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, the doctor’s question taking him off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“The variant I gave you was meant to be without the…. more savage side effects. If that was not the case, I must find the miscalculation. Most unfortunate.” He turned to his notes. “I can mix another, perhaps less potent.”

More experiments. More test subjects. Was that all he was to the doctor now? It didn’t matter. Viktor shook his head. “No. I did not come for more Shimmer. I am done with the Hexcore. You are going to help me mitigate the results.”

“I warned you that you may not like the path ahead.”

“You said they would despise me. I do not care about that. Topsiders hated me since the moment I set foot in their gilded city. This is different.”

Singed made a noncommittal hum. “Perhaps. What exactly do you believe I can do to ‘fix it’?”

Viktor limped over to the blood-stained table, heaving himself onto it. “Remove the altered flesh. All of it. I know you can.”

“Show me. Tell me what happened.”

Viktor removed the glove and his pants, showing his altered limbs. He explained what happened, but kept only to the strict facts. He left out the nightmares, the crushing guilt. The doctor wouldn’t care about the emotional toll. It wasn’t worth wasting air on bringing it up.

“Fascinating.“ Singed took his altered hand, turning it over and inspecting it. “Are you certain you want it removed? This is truly extraordinary. It could be the breakthrough we need.”

“I am certain,” Viktor insisted. After a moment, he added, “You may keep the… parts… after if you wish. I don’t care.” He didn’t want to know what Singed would do with them, but destroying them completely would be difficult if not impossible.

“Very well. Is there anything else I should know?”

Viktor reached into his jacket pocket and handed over his journal. “I have designs for prosthetics, if that has any bearing on how you perform the surgery. Feel free to peruse the other notes if you wish.”

The doctor paged through the notes. “Impressive. Have you tested any of these designs?”

“Prototypes, nothing more. I did not have time to take them with me.”

“If all goes well, there will be time to test the designs later. Do you have any other requests?”

“I wish to keep my mind in tact and be able to continue my work, to help people. I do not care for appearance as long as I am functional.” His gaze drifted to Rio in her tank, his throat tightening. This process would not be pleasant. “If I must go into suspension… do not drag it out too long.”

“I will do my best. You will live.” Singed placed a hand on his shoulder, light and cold but the closest the doctor could get to comforting. “Are you ready?”

Viktor took a shaky breath and nodded. This was the only way. “Do what you must.”

The pinch of a needle in his arm was the last thing he felt before the world went dark. The dreams couldn’t reach him.

When he woke, it would be a second chance to make things right. It had to work.

#aryaskywalker writes #arcane league of legends #arcane fanfic #jayvik #viktor arcane #jayce talis #singed arcane #hexcore arcane

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annymation · 2 months

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HEY girl, I was thinking that we heard the stars fighting with Aster but we never really knew what they were saying... So what were they saying? What did you think when you saw your little one wanting to stay on earth and falling in love with Asha?

(get it? because the stars play songs and music we listen to and don't read haha)

(okay I'll be quiet)

Okay so I actually had answered before with lines of what they said throughout the story, but I’ll make this a “Master Post” of sorts with ALL the stars lines, from chapter 7 from when they first showed up AAAALL the way to chapter 15 when they last talked to Aster (at least that we hear, so let's begin:

Chapter 7

Aster lays down on the roof of Asha’s house, then he hears

The stars:

“Have we heard correctly? You said you’ll be dancing with her IN PUBLIC? That’s not wise.”

“This isn’t some game, young one.”

“You’re getting quite too attached with her, may we remind you your time together will be short”

Aster rolls his eyes and says in a tone reminiscent of a bothered teenager

"Wow, I barely even started and you guys already think l'm doing this all wrong? A little bit of trust would be nice"

The stars:

“We do trust you… With simpler wishes, but this is different.”

“To inspire a whole kingdom, and give them hope they can achieve their wishes by themselves… That’ll take much longer than you think.”

“You’re not supposed to stay down there too long, you belong here where you’re safe”

Aster:

"Yeah I knooow it's gonna take a while to grant this wish, but hey, if it was a simple wish I wouldn't be here in the first place, now would I?"

The stars:

“Watch your tone.”

“You shouldn’t be down there in the first place, you’re far too naïve, too sentimental, too reckless.”

“You’re not following what we’ve taught you. You must be a guide for that girl, nothing more.”

Aster:

"I may be young but I deserve to be here just as much as anyone else... I know I'm doing things differently but... She needs me"

The stars:

“She needs you, yes, to grant her wish, not go around playing on the forest like this is some adventure of yours”

“We just worry for you because we don’t want you to make a mistake”

“May I say what we’re all thinking already? They’re not planning on granting that wish at all, the little one just wants to play being human for as long as he can”

Aster:

"NO THIS IS NOT-"

he stops himself from yelling, Asha might hear

"* sigh* this is NOT about me wanting to stay here longer than I have to, I'm just doing things MY way, just give me a chance, I know what I'm doing..

…

Silence, the stars decide to leave him be.

Chapter 14

Asha goes in to kiss Aster, the star is about to accept the kiss but...

Stars:

"DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT YOUNG STAR NOVA!"

"What part of DON'T GET TOO ATTACHED do you fail to understand?"

"These feelings will cloud your judgement!"

"You'll have to leave her soon!"

"Focus!"

Aster stops and just pulls her in for a hug.

Chapter 15

Aster asks what happened the last time someone absorbed the power of a star, and the stars tell him:

“There was chaos.

There was fear, hopelessness and discord.

No one could hide, for they could find any gleam of hope there was left to destroy.

No one could run for there was nowhere else to go.

No one was left to fight, and even if there was they’d lose.

The only reason it all ended… Was because they couldn’t take it all by themselves, they fell into madness, because it was too much power for just one mortal to handle, and their will to keep control wasn’t strong enough.

They met their demise, not because of a hero, but because they just couldn’t take it all alone.

But even then, it was no happy ending, because when it was all over… There was no one left.”

Aster:

“…… Hmmmm… wait wait wait back up, what was that about the human falling into madness?

The stars:

“…… THATS what you’re choosing to focus on?!

*sigh* Yes, the human went insane, perhaps wacky, one might even say crazy, lost their mind, their marbles, their bananas, fell off their rocker so to speak.”

Aster:

“Huh… I wonder if the king knows that.”

#wish rewrite #wish reimagined #kingdom of wishes #ask

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thewritersaddictions · 2 years

Text

Rick Grimes: Bullet

Pairing: Rick Grimes x fem!reader

pov: Reader

Warnings: 18+, touchy, and feely, gun saftey, learning to shoot a gun, fluff.

Summary: Rick teaches you how to use your pistol, even if he get handsy.

WC- 1.6k

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers

The Walking Dead Master List // The Law Master List

I’d never been really good with a gun. Before the world fell to shit I’d never touched a gun actually. I stayed with my knife, I was good with that and honestly it was less noise and I’d learned the hard way the noise wasn’t the best thing in this new world. I had never thought I’d meet Rick, or hell anybody else in the lonley world we now lived in. I travelled with Rick and his crew for a while, that was not before I got asked those 3 very important questions. I guess in the beginning it was rather important to Rick that the people he let into his inner crew were good hearted people.

So he asked his 3 questions “How many walkes have you killed? How many people have you killed? Why?” I answered with honestly and I think thats the only thing that allowed me in. My whole hearted honesty. Now here we were in Alexandria, in these fortress walls. Protecting us from the outside world that had made us so cruel and vile to a human mistake. Alexandria had it right keeping our weapons on us was just making us fearful that something could go terrible wrong.

I sit on one of the many bench that are placed around our small town. I stare down at the knife, blanacing it on one fingers and twirling it around. I wonder a question that many of the crew had asked before hand. “Why don’t you use a gun?” I had been asked. By Carol, Carl, and so many more. I never gave an answer I just shrugged. I was just so struck by the odd feeling I wasn’t doing enough to ever give a truthful answer. I looked around the beautiful area of Alexandria and realized very quickly just how much I was truly scared of leaving though tough exterior walls.

“You alright Y/n?” I looked up, and there was Rick. A bright smile that had grown to be perfect for his peppered white beard. Even though we had made it to safety he kept that beard, it gave him a fansatical older, and sexier look ontop of his heroic and tall stature That he already possessed. “Yeah, I’m doing fine Rick.” I answered. I looked back down at the knife. It was nothing short from spcaiel. A gift from my grandfather. The last thing I remember getting before my family very quickly threw me out of there 3 ringed circus. I felt the slighted shift of the bench. Rick was sitting down next to me. Our knees just slightly touching. I could feel his eyes on me.

Not judging me just learning my expression. “You’re looking pretty intently at this knife you’ve got” Ricked said pointing out my fiddling fingers. We sat in silence for a moment, before I felt the bench give and then Rick’s knee was gone. Before he left “You know where to find me if you want to talk about whatever is rolling through that mind of yours.” He said and then he was gone.

I sat there for the rest of day. The sun set, and the night skies came all just for it to lead me right to Ricks door. I stood there and waited for to long that the fact that I didn’t even knock and he still was there opening the door. “I see you came to me” He said with that soft grinning smile. I shook my head. “Why don’t you come inside and we can talk over a cup of coffee.” Rick offered me. It wasn’t to short that I was sitting down at the bar of Ricks kitchen with a coffee cup filled tothe brim. He stared at me from across the island. “Well I’d speak first but you’ll have to tell me what we’re talking about.” Rick commented. Without a single moment of fault I blurted “I don’t know how to shoot, or honestly how to use a gun alright.” I answered. I looked down at the coffee cup the dark liquid gave a perfect reflection of my sad face, a pitiful one filled with regret of not learning all they could.

“You mean you’ve never shot a gun before? Before all of this zombie shit happned?” He questioned me. I shook my head still looking down atthe cup of coffee. “No I never got the chance.” “Do you remember those questions you asked me so many months ago?” I questioned him. He shook his head and sipped at his coffee.

His brows frowned inward and he gave me a sympathetic look. “I’d never killed anything beyond the zombies. I did it all with that knife” I said, finally sipping at my coffee. Something told me that the look Rick was giving me I was going to get into some sort of trouble. Rick stopped leaning and took his stride towards me.

“How about I’ll teach you how to shoot and properly use a gun.” Rick said his back now leaning up agasint the island so close to me. “When?” I asked briskly. The words fumbling out of my mouth. “You seem egar to learn. Or eager for something else.” He said “Why don’t we started tomorrow.” He said matter of factly. I only hummer in response as I caved into my wants.

Time with Rick sounds lovely, and honestly I may have some resided feelings about him. They all saved me, but Rick was the one. He was the only one that looked at me like I wasn;t a threat, like I was real. “Now you better get home, we’ve got work to do tomorrow sweetheart.” Rick said. The nickname rolling off of his lips and down my spine making me shudder as I set the coffee cup down.

The next day when I arrived at Ricks door. And there he was dressed in his jeans and that button up shirt. “Are you ready?” He asked as he closed the door behind him. I could see his handgun on his hip that way it took stance over his whole body. I stood staring his frame, the board shoulders and striking blue eyes. “You might wanna pick out a gun when we get to the amrory.” Rick said to me. “Yeah I’m ready.” I finally answered. He laughed not a deep one, but one that wasn’t something I had ever heard before.

When we got to the amror I picked out what Rick thought would be best for me as a first time shooter. “Why don’t we just go with a normla pisol gun.” Rick had suggested. He stood next to me as I looked at the small army collection of guns we had required over the past few months. “Here” He said pointing down at one small pistol. His hand was so close to my own, grazing over the top of my skin.

We didn’t have a reserved place to shoot since the guns were loud, but the unreserved house was the best place we could find. Rick had set up a few bottles, and a few other types of targets. “So here’s what I’ll tell you, I’ll show you what to do and we’ll start from there.” Rick said. I just hummed and kept my eyes trained on him. His drew his pistol, keeping it level with the target and then the crack of the the bullet went off and it hit the target dead center. He urned and looked at me. “Holy shit, Rick.” I said not being able to get my words to stay behind my lips. He laughed, and put his gun back in it holster. “Why don’t you try now.” He said moving, before grabbing me by my wasit and moving me infront of him. His fingers squeezed gentle as he moved me across the floor with ease.

“Now pick up your gun.” He said softly, almost whispering right into my ear. I shuddered, and picked the gun up from the table. The cold metal was a different touch from the hot way my skin felt from Rick touching and squeezing me. I brought the gun up to my eye level and tried to steady my hand. I felt Rick’s hand move. Towards my wrist and up my hand. His touch was so delicate. “Don’t worry, you’ll do wonderful. Y/n.” Rick said as he moved my fingers into the trigger spot. I took a deep breathe. Letting my breathe fill my already wavering lungs. “Take your shot, love.” He said.

I took my shot, and I let the crack agasint the smooth air go. I closed my eyes not wanting to know if it hit or not. But then I heard the glass bottles breaking and I opened my eyes. I still felt Ricks hands on me, but nothing was stronger then the urge of excitement I felt as I looked at the shattered glass on the ground. “Good job.” Rick said to me as he let go of my even just slightly. “Are you sure you weren’t lying about how much you didn’t know how to shot a gun?” He said twirling me around in his arms. “A lucky first shot.” I said weary. A raised brow and he slipped his gun from his holster yet again and kept me looking at him, his eyes not moving from the target. My cheeks rose with heat, and yet the way Rick looked at me I couldn’t get out of my mind. This went on for a while. Well at least till Rick said we’d wasted enough bullets for one evening. That feeling of his eyes trained on me, the way his hands felt grasping at my waist, and skin. Rick was a tease and he knew it, the way he glided me across the floor like it didn’t matter to him that I weighed anything.

Completed on: 09/21/22

Posted on: 09/21/22

The Law-

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