Tumgik
#scarab the wishmaster assistant
bacon-pancakes · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Actual conversation I had with a friend, regarding a personality quiz I had to turn in as my final exam. Convo had Scarab and Prismo vibes to me.
— Mod E
217 notes · View notes
punkrock-confetti · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Yooooo whatttttt who’s this bozo
314 notes · View notes
beelz-bub · 7 months
Text
Hello again Prohibitedwish nation, got a part 2 for Ya :D
Tumblr media
Here's part 1 🫡
*it's SFW btw, nothing crazy
Tumblr media
"Bigger than it seems"
(The pair reach the Time room and assist someone with a wish. Prismo gets a new perspective of the place.)
Tumblr media
The stairway slides open, and the pair step inside the Time Room. The entrance slammed shut behind them when Prismo moved his hand commanding it to do so. "It's a lot more stairs when you aren't just gliding across the walls, haha-" Prismo said exasperatedly.
"You're at least tall enough to walk up them normally!" Scarab huffed, his bug legs can only bend at a certain angle.
"Ahem."
An unfamiliar voice cut through their brief conversation. The stranger alarming Prismo, he assured Scarab no one would be there, and now he looks rather foolish. Prismo gasped, "Ah! Oh my glob I'm so sorry man, did you want a wish?" he asked, hurrying over to the stranger.
"Yes. Where is Prismo?" they gestured at the walls, "He fails to be here! I was promised a malevolent Wishmaster of great size and power, and arrive at this decrepit pit with no one here!" they shout, stamping their cane into the ground.
"Uh, well, you see," he fiddled with his hands, "I'm Prismo. I'll uh, grant your wish for you if you want,"
"Tsk," they laughed, "You're Prismo? What a disgrace!"
Normally Scarab would've laughed and agreed with the stranger, but he was oddly offended by this accurate statement. He pushed Prismo out of the way, "Did you want a wish, or not?" he looked down at the rude little pest, "Just spit out what you want and leave." he hissed, pure hatred filling his lungs.
Unnerved by Scarab's abrasive and cold attitude they obeyed, "Ah, w-well-" and stepped back, "I wish to increase my fortune by any means necessary!"
Prismo smiled, "Wish granted," he snapped his fingers, the creature fading out of the room into his wish-altered reality. Immediately the TV wall hissed with static, and the creature appeared, kneeling on the ground "My mansion! My beautiful house!" it cried, "All for this stupid card full of nothing!"
Scarab watched this all unfold, then turned to Prismo, "What did you do?"
He giggled, "They did say 'any means'~" Prismo picked up the remote, changing the channel to a cloudy sky, "They wanted to increase their wealth so I sold everything they had and put it all in the bank!"
"Could they just not buy it back?"
"I converted everything to money, everything is gone and he can't get it back. Also, the card is locked~"
"Huh," Scarab remarked, "Impressive." he nudged Prismo in the shoulder playfully, "Really working that malevolent wish magic huh?"
Prismo's gut felt fluttery at the compliment, "Heh, oh well it was nothing, just the usual~"
"You do good work for being as lazy as you are." Scarab stepped away, cracking his arms and back in some kind of odd means of stretching. It sounded like his bones were snapping, very disturbing.
"Ew," Prismo whispered to himself, "Hey, why don't you put that human disguise back on?" he walked in front of Scarab.
"Why?"
"Well, uh," he tried to think of some sort of justification, "I don't think you'd want to be seen hanging around me when I'm like this. Might get in trouble, so uh, just to be safe! Y'know?"
"Hm... That's some sound reasoning, very well." he did his thing, returning to that odd human form. It was different but nice. A lot softer than Scarab's usual bug-self. Not that Prismo hated it, but it was harder to read Scarab's emotions with that mask on. Scarab ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away after feeling how odd it was, "So what did you even want to do?"
"Oh! Uhm," Prismo squinted his eyes and looked around. Something about the place made him feel strange. The Time Room was a lot larger than it usually was. It was like Prismo shrunk down into a tiny little flea on the ground. The room seemed so much smaller in his usual form, "Huh, does this look weird to you too?" he asked, not really expecting a response. Just speaking out loud to himself.
"It looks the same as it always has."
"I dunno, everything feels so much bigger," he reached out his hand, "I mean look at the TV wall, it's huge! Like totally massive. Dude is this what you guys see all the time?"
"Yes?" Scarab stood beside him, "Finally witnessing what it's like to be small?"
"Yeah, man! This is crazy..." he spun around, taking in the size of the place. While he spun around, arms wide, he bumped into the jacuzzi, "Oof-"
"Ugh, what's wrong with you," Scarab mumbled, although internally, he did find Prismo rather funny. He wouldn't be caught dead laughing in front of him.
Prismo, however, began laughing hysterically, "Ah man, I really just did that!" he put his hands on the edge of the pool, "Hm... Hey Scarabby?"
"What?"
"You wanna take a dip with me?" he asked, reaching around his robe to pull it off.
"Ugh, no." he crossed his arms, looking away.
"Suit yourself, heh." he tossed off his undershirt, "Suit~" he giggled at his stupid pun.
"You are honestly so childish-" he turned around to see a shirtless Prismo struggle to get into the spa without falling in. He was immediately hit with several emotions that shot him directly in the heart. His gut reaction was to laugh. Scarab let out the most exasperated laugh, then began to get angry with himself that he let that slip, "Why are you getting in the water while still wearing pants you moron!?" he yelled, his heart beating out of his chest. He was angry at himself, his attempts at getting into the jacuzzi while still wearing pants were so funny to him. Prismo didn't need to know that, he didn't need to know about any reciprocated feelings. He was the one in control here.
"It's called..." he plopped himself in the water successfully, "I'll just dry 'em after~" he giggled, resting his arms on the edge of the pool. Scarab stood there with his pale face redder than a tomato much to his chagrin. Prismo tilted his head, "You looking a little hot over there Scarabby, you need to cool off some-"
"What did you just say to me?!" he hissed, completely embarrassed.
"Cool off bud!" Prismo stood up and splashed some of the water on Scarab.
"Augh!" he dodged the attack, "Stop that!!"
"Common~ lighten up!" he laid back, resting on the side so he could still see Scarab, "Ahh man," he sighed, closing his eyes, "That's nice... I've never felt it like this before. I think I'm getting used to these feelings all over my body man. Before it was like, kaboom! Bunch of new sensations all over my bod, but now it's like, woah! So cool-" he chuckled, "You had me all nervous before, but I think I should be good now. Y'know, in case you wanna hold hands again!"
He snarled, "Wh- why would I want to do that-!?" Scarab was frozen in place, unable to reconcile with his emotions.
"Haha!" Prismo laughed, his little hand covering his mouth, "You're so cute Scarabby~"
"I gHH-" he slammed his mouth shut with a hiss of frustration. Scarab balled his hands up into a fist, stumbling over to the spa, gripping the edge tightly while pointing at Prismo, "STOP TALKING!" His hand shook, "I loathe you to my core! You PEST, you ROT! I will rip you apart piece by piece until you are nothing but pink shreds in my claws!"
Prismo smiled, swimming over to him, and looking at him directly in the face. Scarab had pulled away as he did so. He stared into the flustered bug's eyes, holding this for a painful 10 seconds before reaching over and pecking him on the cheek. He swam back to his original spot in the jacuzzi, watching Scarab's reaction with glee.
Scarab had completely ceased, taking a minute to even process what had just happened. The rage that filled his confused mess of a brain had pushed him to attack. How dare Prismo do such a thing, it was a violation of everything he was working towards. He growled, "I'LL KILL YOU!" pushing himself over the edge, and lunging at Prismo. His claws were ready to grab him by the throat and tear him apart.
Luckily, Prismo had swiftly moved out of the way, the poor bug splashing right into the water. He moved to the other end of the spa laughing, "Hey, now you can't make fun of me anymore, you're in here with your whole suit on!" he laughed.
Scarab stood up, his arms wide out to his sides while he dripped like a soaking wet cat, "Ugh," he gritted his teeth, "I really, really hate you."
"Hehe~" a grin stretched across his face, "Alright -- let's get outta here." he stood up, walked to the edge, getting out and dripping on the floor like a wet dish. He stood there immobile for a second, "Yeesh! What is this?" he shivered, holding himself close together, "It's like my body is being stabbed with a bunch of little knives. It's so strange, ugh, it like hurts!" he looked at Scarab with pleading eyes, "W-what is this?"
He stepped out in a similar fashion, except he didn't shiver like Prismo, who stood there shivering like a dog, "You're cold." the water cooled him off a lot, he was now calm and collected. This was mostly due to Prismo's pathetic shivering.
"C-c-cold?" he reached over to his robe, Scarab jumping out of his way. Prismo touched the warm robe, bundling himself up immediately, "I don't like being cold man, this sucks, like really bad." he sniffled, "Hey! Why aren't you cold?"
"I'm cold-blooded. I'm not affected by temperature like you are."
"Oh," he sniffled again, "Maybe I shouldn't have gone in without a towel or something."
"Yeah." Scarab lifted his soggy suit, "Ugh -- can you dry us off?"
"Oh, you're so right!" he lit up, snapping his fingers. The two were now nice and dry. Prismo felt a comfortable warmth return to his human flesh, "Ahh... Much better." he slipped his arms through the robe, "Wanna go on an adventure Scarabby?"
He sighed, "I suppose."
"Great!" the two had their forms separated into a bunch of multicolored rectangles, traveling throughout time and space to a location that only Prismo knew.
Tumblr media
(like and share and follow and hit that notification button for part 3 or else i'll delete my account)
688 notes · View notes
void-ink-studios · 6 months
Text
More Prohibited Wish Ideas because my brain is infested with worms and I can't be stopped
This is more a scene that's been slowly rotating in my head than anything else. Might write more of it, might just leave it here for y'all, but here it is!
This might be long, so the rest of it's under the cut.
Edit: I made the fanfic.
I'm obsessed with the idea that most of the cosmic entities have some kind of mundane origin. Prismo is the dream of an old man, perhaps a mortal wizard who got the Boss's attention and granted timeless immortality. The Cosmic Owl, perhaps was once the familiar to some primordial magic user. Perhaps many crawled out of the primordial soup in the time Before there was Nothing.
But Scarab?
Scarab was just that. A beetle. Perhaps a weird type of beetle able to speak on the level of a mortal human, but a beetle nonetheless. One that fought and reached and climbed far beyond what anyone thought possible. He got the Boss's attention. He was made functionally immortal, given a more imposing body, given responsibilities beyond what a bug is ever meant to achieve. God Auditor was not his first choice, but it's still higher than what was thought possible.
Prismo doesn't strike me as the type to care much about where someone may come from. But he is an exception among the pantheon.
Gods do not let Scarab forget what he was. What he still is, to many of them. A bug. The other gods find Scarab unsightly. They're visibly disgusted by his strange mouth and wide eyes and odd chirps.
So Scarab hides behind his mask. He hides his extra arms unless it's necessary. He turns his exoskeleton into a prim and proper suit. But it's never enough. Not enough to make the other gods forget what he is.
Orbo certainly doesn't. And he takes the chances to remind Scarab that he's lucky to be here. And that he's not meant to be here. It's why Orbo takes steps to cripple the Scarab, should the auditor ever be demoted back to mortal. He takes his antenna. And he takes his wings.
And then, Scarab is demoted. He's relegated to being the Wishmaster's assistant. Janitor is the more accurate title. And Scarab is back to feeling like a pinned insect, now trapped with another god who will most certainly not fail to remind him that he's lucky he's not back to crawling in mud. Because Prismo certainly knows, doesn't he?
Except, that's not what happens.
Prismo is kind. He's respectful, in his own strange way. When Scarab accidentally makes his odd chirps, the Wishmaster finds it cute. When he learns to crawl along the walls as a shadow, Prismo doesn't seem to mind.
And when Scarab lets the mask fall, Prismo finds him endearing, rather than unsightly.
So Scarab starts embracing himself again. He's in a space where he is not thought of as disgusting or undeserving. He's allowed to be strange in the ways his origin would suggest, even encouraged. He gets comfortable in his own shell again.
And then Orbo visits.
And Orbo questions why Scarab's hanging out on the ceiling. And why his mask is gone. And what's with all the gross noises he's making. And Scarab retreats again. He let himself be too comfortable. He should've known better.
But Prismo is horrified.
He calls Orbo out. That's not a cool thing to do to a friend. Why should Scarab have to hide all the time.
Orbo tries to "reason" with the Wishmaster. Why should Prismo care? He should be thanking him for getting the bug back in line.
"He's not cool, not like us, Prismo. You're the dream of a right powerful wizard. I'm the core of a collapsed magic star. Him? He's just... Well, just look at him. He's just a bug. Shouldn't have been able to get where he was in the first place. He's lucky we didn't send him back to crawling in the mud broken."
And that's when Prismo learns what happened to his friend. Why some days he can't seem to stand up straight. Or why some days he has to spend in the Time Core, curled up and out of sight.
And that's when Scarab learned what a Wishmaster's wrath looked like.
-----------------------------
Like I said, no idea if I'll fully write it out. I might. But I at least wanted to dump this thought onto something, so enjoy babes.
134 notes · View notes
azuremliam · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Bug World Au stuff about Scarab's kind! The lil tiny guy is Scarab heheh More lore stuff for them underneath the readmore :)
They're really damn old, and are pretty well acquainted with cosmic beings. Ever grown crystals in liquid solutions? They're experts in that on their planet/dimension! In fact, in Bug World AU they assisted in the growing the Crystal Citadel Guardians!
They also made crystal devices throughout the multiverses. Scarab witnessed the creation of the Citadel himself, and when he was younger was like "My family helped make that!" To anyone he could tell. After not landing the Wishmaster (he was still super salty about it) position he consoled himself in taking pride in being able to work along side a creation his people made.
So when the Citadel gets destroyed by extension Prismo's actions that just adds immensely to his ire against him and rants to Liam about it right before they get assigned as his new Boss. When learning the news about their new position, he does get slightly ashamed of himself when he gets so excited/happy about being able to work near constantly with them when it came at the result of the Citadel's destruction.
His homeworld still exists, but he hasn't visited in eons. He has considered showing Liam to it.
35 notes · View notes
bug-decal-kissing · 5 months
Text
Hey friends!
A new work, A Memory of the Wishamster's Assistant by Mater_Tibi, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Original Character Death(s), Wishes, Humanity, Character Development, at the cost of gaining heavy feelings, haha give this a try please, scarab gets exposure therapy for humans but with one person, i did not flesh this OC out please accept her like the drifting leaf in the wind that she is"
You can read it here:
Today, Scarab learns about compassion :]/silly. THIS WAS SO GOOD AAAAAUUUUUGH I LOVE THEM I LOVE THAT STUPID BUG MAN (AFFECTIONATE) !!!
NSFW works are below the cut :].
Blackened Heart, Blackened Soul, by Rachrar, was updated today, with 4/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - Human, Priest/Demon AU, Priest Scarab, Demon Prismo, Catholicism, Religious Guilt, Slow Burn, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Cock Piercing, Dacryphilia, Virginity, I tagged the kinks even though it might be a bit until they happen so nobody is surprised, More may be added however, Self-Flagellation, Coming Untouched"
You can read it here:
OK who traumatised my bug man who let this happen/j. HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO LOOK PRISMO IN THE EYE NOW. THEY HAVE TO WORK TOGETHER ??? SOMEONE HELP HIM PLEASE/lh. MY POOR BOY
Interlinked, by Finn565, was updated today, with 3/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and Graphic Depictions of Violence, with additional tags "Human AU, Blade Runner AU, I played pretty lose with the lore so forgive me for that, Violence, not too gorey tho, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Orbo is a piece of shit, sorry I just made him that way in this fic"
You can read it here:
FINN AND FIONNA CAMEO YEAAAAAAAH !! We are getting closer to prismo soon >:]c oooh I'm so excited for this fic !! I love ruthless Scarab <3
14 notes · View notes
bacon-pancakes · 3 days
Text
I think it’s really funny that like. When I go to tag Scarab posts, like y’know “Scarab the—“
Tumblr autofills “—wishmaster assistant” before “—god auditor” and I think Scarab would hate that so much. Did him dirty. I can’t stop laughing
16 notes · View notes
void-ink-studios · 6 months
Text
Hidden Treasure
I put out a poll, and the people have loudly spoken. It's still up for a few hours, since I can't make polls last shorter than 24 hours, but there's a very clear winner.
Enjoy your food, y'all.
You can check out my other works with the links here:
Wrath of the Wishmaster
Touch of Light
Memories of the Homeland
Word Count: 3,000
Scarab had known for a long time that he was not what anyone would describe as pleasant to look at. That was something his coworkers had made certain he understood.
He knew bugs were not considered beautiful up close. There were parts people liked about them, the parts that get pinned and displayed in collections. The wings and carapace often shimmered with colors found nowhere else.
Maybe that's why his shell was the only part Scarab didn't feel the need to hide.
People admired it like a piece of art. They'd ooh and aah and admire from a distance.
Only from a distance.
Because people's admiration of bugs tended to stop once you get close enough to notice details.
No one liked the micro hairs in his joints. No one liked how he seemed to click and clack when he moved, like a doll. No one liked his needle-like claws that always seemed very slightly sticky.
And no one liked his face.
When he had first joined the pantheon, it was one of the first things he learned.
His face was called a lot of things. Unsightly. Unpleasant. Creepy. Gross.
His eyes were called too big. Too wide. Too intense a stare for people to handle.
His mouth was called disgusting. A horror show. Nightmarish.
When he had antenna, they were called unsettling with how they twitched and moved seemingly randomly.
He'd heard all of these things and more, both long before and long after he donned the mask.
No one liked eating near him, because no one wanted to see his proboscis and mandibles. No one liked walking next to him, because no one wanted to hear his odd clicking joints or an accidental chirp. And certainly no one liked looking him in the eye, because no one wanted to feel his stare of his too-wide eyes.
So no one sees his face, unless it's to intimidate. Because that was its only acceptable use, these days.
Scarab had accepted all of these factors long ago. He had accepted that companionship was off the table for him amongst the gods. The parts of him that would've made him preen back home are now objects of scorn and disgust. He accepted he was meant to be scorned, and it just made his job as Auditor simpler.
Which is why he was utterly baffled by Prismo and his behavior towards him.
Because Prismo threw everything he'd ever been taught about the gods out the window.
Scarab had been dreading his punishment as Prismo's assistant. Part of why he worked so hard as a God Auditor was so he had to spend as little time with other gods as possible. As much as he was used to their insults and disgust, it didn't mean he wanted to stick around and take them. But now, he was trapped, in a tiny room, with nothing but him and a Wishmaster he had trapped in a cube and tried to destroy. Prismo had more reason to hate him than almost anyone else.
But Prismo seemed more fascinated than revolted by his insectoid features. He encouraged them, even.
Eons of being trained out of his heritage, erased by a pink dream shadow, and an ounce of kindness and understanding.
They'd adapted to each other, quite thoroughly. Prismo had come to understand the many clicks and trills and chirps Scarab would make. He had given him liberty to make burrows into the Time Room walls to let him feel comfortable and safe. He'd even indulged his need to climb and crawl and explore in whatever little ways he can.
It was the first taste of true understanding Scarab had felt since he had left home.
And he hated himself for how much he craved it.
It was all Prismo's fault. Scarab had accepted his lot in life. He'd come to understand that friendship was not in the cards for him. But, there the Wishmaster was, throwing that understanding into chaos, filling his heart with stupid, poisonous hope.
Scarab was not meant for hope.
He was not meant for love.
The realization that that was what he was feeling sent the beetle spiraling for days. He of course did the not cowardly thing, totally didn't spend most of several days hiding in various holes he'd made and avoiding Prismo like the plague.
Totally not a cowardly move at all.
When he was over his minor freakout, he chose to swallow the poison down. Do what he always did. Take those feelings, squish them into the size of a marble, lock them in a box, and shove that box to the bottom of him mind.
It's nothing he hadn't done before. One must compartmentalize to cope with the existential dread of realizing you're never going home, everyone you've ever known or love has been dead for a very long time, and that home probably looks nothing like how you remember it. Shoving down complex emotions is easy.
He just had to remember one thing: Prismo has never seen his face.
It's the only reason he can think of as to why the Wishmaster isn't revolted. Because he hasn't seen the horror show of his face.
Scarab rationalized further. He's not appreciated or liked by Prismo, not really at least. He's just... an oddity. A novelty. Something to gawk at for a few centuries.
Prismo would drop the curiosity the second he sees what Scarab really is.
Because no one liked bugs. Not up close.
But, despite all his rationalizing, Scarab found himself stuck on what to do with it.
A part of him, a weak, spineless part of him, didn't want the kindness to stop. That part of him wanted to keep singing his native songs without scolding, to dig without scorn, to crawl without disgust. Even if he knew it was all novelty that would wear out eventually, the cowardly part of him wanted to prolong it for as long as possible.
But the other part, the one who gave up on being nice to gods a long time ago, wanted to rip the bandaid off, so to speak. That part of him wanted to show Prismo exactly what he's stuck with. It wanted him to drop the niceties already and behave the way gods are supposed to.
He gave you burrows and comforts on your bad days one side argued.
He'll grow bored or annoyed of you at some point, you don't want to get used to kindness by the time that happens the other retorted.
For weeks this debate raged in his head, his roommate none the wiser. He was starting to think this debate would just be the way of things for the time being.
Until, for the seemingly millionth time in his existence, Prismo threw a wrench into the works.
"Hey, Scarab!"
Uh-oh, Prismo sounded excited. That usually means Scarab is about to be dragged into something foolish, but he'd better just roll with it rather than deal with the aftermath later.
"Yes, Prismo?"
"I know you can't smell much, but can you, like taste stuff?"
Scarab blinked, confused at him.
"...Can we even eat in this form?"
"I mean, we don't really need to, but that's no reason to not enjoy snacks every now and then, right?"
Scarab held back the eyeroll. "No, I suppose not. To answer your question, if this form at all matches my corporeal body, then yes, I can taste things just fine."
"Awesome. Can I ask you a favor?"
"I have an inclination I don't have much of a choice, so, sure. What do you want?"
"Try this!"
And suddenly there was a pickle in Scarab's hand. He raised an eyebrow expectantly at the Wishmaster.
"I'm trying a new recipe. Usually I'd ring Cosmic Owl to taste test, but he's busy right now. Something about backed up tokens... Anyway, I figured I might as well ask my buddy!"
Scarab's brain finally caught up to the situation at hand. Prismo wanted him to eat this. In front of him. With no real way to turn around or conceal himself or his face.
Glob dammit.
"Uhm... I'll try it later..."
"Oh c'mon, please? I need to know if this batch is right before I try making more!"
Prismo was beaming at him. Smiling expectantly. When did that smile weaken him this much?
Okay, there was no way around this, not without deflating the Wishmaster's eagerness. Slowly, he opened the bottom of his mask, mandibles and proboscis unfolding clumsily. He kept his eyes off of the one watching him, eating the snack in silence. It was good, he'd give Prismo that, but everything he could say was drowned out by dread.
"I-It's uhm... It's good, Prismo."
There were a few beats of silence. Enough to make Scarab's fingers itch. Enough to draw his eyes back up.
Prismo was staring. At him. At his mouth, which he only just realized he didn't fold back up yet. Oh Glob.
"...Prismo?"
"Sorry, I just... I realized that's the first time I've seen you eat..."
Scarab couldn't place Prismo's emotion in his voice. He didn't stick around long enough to find out.
He clamped his mouth shut, his face plates making a loud cracking sound as they slammed closed in place. One hand unconsciously came up to cover it further.
"I-I'm sorry" he managed to squeeze out just before diving into the Time Room's lower levels.
Hide, hide, need to hide, need to protect, need to hide. He saw, he saw, he hates you, he saw your ugliest parts, he's revolted, hide hide HIDE!
He distantly heard Prismo yell after him, but it fell on clouded ears. Scarab made a mad dash; into the elaborate tunnels he had made throughout the basement, away from everything, away from him.
The beetle curled up into a deep, dark, forgotten corner of the Time Room and shook. He could hear his shell clicking together as he shivered, distressed chirps and trills punishingly falling from his mouth.
He saw. He saw and stared. He knows what you are. No one likes bugs. No one likes bugs like you. No one likes bugs up close.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't you dare cry. This is what you get for hoping. This is what you get for thinking anyone would want to be close to you. Gods squash bugs like you. You're lucky you haven't been yet. You're lucky you're not in a terrarium or pinned up on the wall somewhere.
That voice sounded suspiciously like some of the other gods. It's not like it mattered. He just hoped Prismo never paid attention to where Scarab was building his tunnels.
"Scrabs? Buddy, where are you?"
Scarab squeezed his mandibles tightly shut, trying and failing to block his distressed noises. He used to be so much better at holding these back, when did he lose so much self-control?
He couldn't even swallow down the embarrassing whimper he made when Prismo's bright blue eye locked onto him from the burrow's entrance.
"Scarab, bud, what's wrong dude?"
He wanted to hiss. His hindbrain was telling to hiss, scare away the threat, make him leave, protect the burrow, but none of it was happening. Because hissing would just expose his mouth again...
"...Go away, Prismo..."
"Was the pickle really that bad?"
"No you fool!"
"Then what's wrong? Something's wrong, and I don't wanna leave you hanging."
Something in Scarab's chest snapped.
"Just drop the act, Prismo! Stop pretending to like me already!"
"Woah, woah, what? What act?"
Rage, that was a much easier to understand emotion than the ones Scarab's been grappling with for weeks. Rage was easier to understand than this strange, vague attraction to the Wishmaster, rage was easier to understand than what possible reasons Prismo had to be nice to him, rage was familiar. He was desperate for a return to understandable. So he reveled in it.
"Stop trying to trick me, Prismo! I never thought of you as a cruel god, but you're shaping up to be one of the worst out there! Poisoning my mind with... with this nonsense!"
Prismo seemed to flinch at his tone. Good. Maybe that'll get him to stop whatever it was he was trying to do.
"Scrabby, what are you talking about? I thought we were buddies!"
"That's just what you'd want me to think, isn't it? Try to be my friend, fill my head with hope, so it all comes tumbling down harder. It's quite devious, I'd almost admire it. Tell me, is it something you came up with, or did one of the higher ups give you the idea?"
Prismo's eyes filled with... sadness. No, wait, that's not right... He should be getting angry! Disgusted!
"Scarab..."
"How dare you, Prismo. How dare you make me think I'm... that I'm something tolerable to be around. No one likes bugs, Prismo! I learned that lesson a long time ago. No one likes bugs, unless to pin them on the wall or pull their legs off! So stop pretending like you're not revolted by me and just get on with it!"
In one final act of defiance, he opened up his mask entirely, hissing and putting on full display his disgusting face. His mandibles clicked wildly, and his eyes bore right into Prismo's.
There, that ought to do it.
Except Prismo didn't seemed frightened. Just... sad. No, no, that's not what he's supposed to feel... No, no, that's not correct.
His hiss wavered, his voice starting to break.
He saw something pink move closer to him. He closed his eyes and braced himself. For what, he didn't know. But he knew to expect something.
Except, it didn't come. Tenderly, he opened one eye, to see Prismo's hand, about a foot away from him.
Just like he had done when he found him in the pickle cubby...
Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't... cry...
"S-Stop it... Please, just... stop..."
Prismo made no move closer. But he didn't pull his hand back either. Scarab flexed his clawed hand for a moment. He could swipe, and the Wishmaster would feel it but...
He couldn't...
He awkwardly reached his hand forward, letting it overlap into that vibrant purple. His entire form shivered at the contact, especially Prismo's thumb petting his claws.
"Don't you dare, Prismo... Don't you dare make me feel like... like you actually care..."
"I'm sorry no one's made you feel like that before."
Scarab's breath hitched. He shook his head. Don't cry don't cry don'tcrydon'tcrydon't-
"Can you come out of the hole, Scarab?"
The hold on Scarab's hand lightly tugged him forward. He wasn't sure why, but he let himself be tugged. Maybe he was just too tired to fight it anymore. Prismo at least gave him the privilege of staying mostly in the hole, just his head peeking out.
Which was... still open. Prismo was this close to his real face...
Scarab panicked and tried to close it back up, but a soft touch stopped him. A hand. A gentle one, on his cheek.
His cheeks felt wet suddenly. Had he started crying? When did that happen? Regardless, a thumb brushed the tears away, as Scarab was painfully aware of Prismo examining his face.
"You're, like, a little hidden treasure, you know that?"
"...What...?"
"Yeah. I like your eyes... And I'm sorry if me looking at your mouth earlier is what freaked you out... It's just... I'd never seen anything like it before."
"I apologize for inflicting it onto you..."
"Woah, that's not what I meant. Look, I don't know what anyone else might've told you, but I think they just had no taste. I think you're beautiful."
Scarab's mandibles clicked together, his eyes wide in sheer disbelief. Beautiful... Prismo called him beautiful...
"I... I-I... I don't know what to say..."
"Was that too forward?"
"N-No! I've just... never heard... anyone use that word to... describe me..."
"Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous. Elegant. I've always thought that. I'm just happy I have the complete picture."
Scarab wasn't sure how or if his dignity could survive this moment, but the sniffle he just made probably didn't help.
"Hey. Can I... try something?"
Scarab gave a tiny little nod. And then suddenly Prismo was kissing him. On his mouth. On his real mouth.
Kissing was not something that came naturally to Scarab. His species did not kiss, not in this way. But Prismo made it feel thoughtless. He closed his eyes and melted into it.
His mandibles even found use, gently cradling the Wishmaster's cheeks before they pulled away. Both of their cheeks were flushed.
"Did you... like that?" Scarab felt stupid for even asking, but his brain had turned to mush the second Prismo touched his cheek. The Wishmaster gave him a warm, kind smile, nodding.
It didn't even end there. The pink projection scooped the beetle up and began peppering soft little kisses all over his face. On his cheeks, between his eyes, on the joints of his mandibles, even right between where his antenna belonged.
The chirps Scarab made should've been a bit embarrassing, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Not in the first moment in eons he's felt treasured. Valued. Beautiful.
"May I try something?"
"Go ahead, gorgeous."
Scarab held Prismo's face, bringing their foreheads together. The beetle nuzzled that spot tenderly, chirps morphing into purrs almost. He privately mourned his antenna, which he could imagine carding through the Wishmaster's hair.
"Well, aren't you a sweet thing, Lovebug?
Scarab sputtered at that, face flushing a deep shade of blue. He loathed Prismo's smug chuckle as he kissed at his plated neck.
"You're terrible."
"Thanks." He let out a content sigh, nuzzling back against Scarab's head. "...Can we head back upstairs now? I think someone needs some more smooches on his gorgeous little face."
"You are actually insufferable. But... yes. I would like that."
The two stayed practically glued together for quite a while afterwards. There was a warmth now. A light, pleasant warmth, one that filled up the Time Room quite nicely as they cuddled. Scarab's chirps echoed softly off the walls as Prismo rubbed pleasant circles in his back.
And Scarab, for the first time in thousands of years, didn't feel the need to put his mask back on.
He didn't need to. Not for Prismo.
Who seemed to like bugs much more than one might expect.
57 notes · View notes
void-ink-studios · 6 months
Text
Gala of the Gods (Part 1)
A few people suggested some stuff with Scarab and Nightmo, I've become obsessed with some of the art I've seen of these two in fancy clothes, so I'm going to combine the two.
Behold, my attempts at describing fancy clothing!
I am an artist as well, so if there's anything from this fic series you might wanna see me draw, just let me know.
Also, this is multi-parter! So y'all are gonna have to be patient.
Enjoy y'all!
Part 1 -You Are Here- | Part 2 | Part 3
Word Count: 2,200
Mail was not something Scarab expected when he first came to live in the Time Room. He figured anyone with something to say to Prismo would just take it as an excuse to show up and hang out for a while.
But, as with many assumptions he had, Scarab was wrong. Well, kind of.
The mail was never frequent, and it was almost only from the higher ups, but it had happened enough time with nearly missed important updates for Scarab to add checking the Time Room's make-shift mailbox to his routine.
And it was a good thing he did. Because they had mail. Fancy looking mail. And the beetle felt sick to his stomach when he began suspecting what this was about.
"Prismo! Mail! Letter from the Organizer."
Prismo made a rather undignified noise as he snapped awake from where he was dozing off in his hot tub.
"The Organizer? Ooooh, is it that Gala thing?"
"I suspect it might be. It's addressed to both of us, shall I read it?"
"Knock yourself out, Lovebug."
Scarab rolled his eyes a little but smiled regardless. He broke open the seal and unfolded the letter.
"To the Wishmaster and his assistant,
You are both cordially invited to the bicentennial Cosmic Gala. Attendance is compulsory, however you are not required to stay for the duration, should your godly duties require you to return to your posts.
The Gala will be hosted in the Judgement Hall, and will begin 340 time waves from now.
You are expected to be on your best behavior. There will be no physical altercations within the Judgement Hall. Please leave any and all grievances with coworkers at home. Snacks and drinks will be provided.
We look forward to seeing you there.
-The Organizer."
Scarab had suspected for a long time that that last paragraph was pointed at him specifically. It's not like he started fights, it's just gods get aggressive at him for doing his job.
"Oh, I haven't even thought of the Gala... Man, a lot has happened since the last one..."
Scarab clicked in agreement. Then was struck with a sudden thought.
"Wait a moment. How are we meant to attend while in this form?"
Prismo raised an eyebrow. "Have you never seen me attend before?"
"I always left early. I made excuses that my job as Auditor required my attention, so I arrived as it started, stayed for perhaps one Time Wave so my boss could see I showed up, then I left. It's not fun sticking around a party where no one likes you."
Whoops, that came out more bitter than he had meant... It's not like he minded not attending more of the party, parties were never his scene to begin with...
Or, was that another thing he convinced himself he didn't like so it wasn't being taken from him?
Hmmm...
"Well, you can come with me this time. We'll stick by each other's side. I think you'll look nice on my arm, Lovebug."
Scarab's mandibles snapped up.
"O-On your arm... Are you suggesting we attend as... as a couple?"
"I-I mean, if you want..." Prismo looked uncharacteristically flustered, smiling nervously at the beetle.
"I think... I think I would like that, Prismo. But, you still haven't answered my question."
"Oh, yeah, the form thing. Well, how it works is the Organizer gives us authorization to make copies of our corporeal body that we can inhabit. Like ghosts or some deal. They last for a few days, and then we get returned to the wall."
"Our... corporeal bodies..."
"Yeah, it's pretty much the only time I get to exist as 'Old Man Prismo' and not cease to be me. I think it's pretty neat. And you get to be taller than me for once."
Scarab barely responded to that, a far away look on his face.
"Can we... modify these bodies at all...?"
"I mean, you can make them look different colors, I guess, or make yourself look younger but why do you..." Prismo's expression filled with sadness. "...You can't restore limbs, if that's what you're asking. I'm sorry, Scrabby."
Scarab sighed. "It's... fine. It was worth asking."
He made a few clicking chirps as he thought.
"...I suppose I should dress up for once? If I'm attending with you and lingering longer?"
"I mean, you could. I like to, since I don't get the luxury of clothes very often, and I'd rather not show up to a Gala as a naked old man. But it's not like you have to."
Prismo watched Scarab's expression. He was deep in thought, that was obvious with how much his mandibles were twitching. Then, his expression lit up.
"...We can conjure almost anything in the Time Room, yes?"
"I mean, anything not sentient, pretty much."
"Hmm... Would you mind if we arrived separately? I think I'd like to... surprise you. You know the lobby outside the Judgement Hall? Wait for me there. I will meet you there."
Prismo was intrigued, to say the least. "A surprise? Just for me? Well, let's do it then. I'll wait for you."
"Perfect. Thank you, love." Scarab nuzzled his cheek sweetly. Prismo giggled, returning the favor with a soft little kiss.
"I can't wait to see what you come up with, Scrabs. I know you'll look gorgeous."
Scarab's elytra clicked as he purred, smiling softly. He'd been doing that a lot more recently. Prismo decided to take pride in the fact he's made the unflappable Scarab smile and blush like a goof.
The days leading up to the Gala were at the same time quiet and buzzing. Scarab was very clearly cooking something up, as he had carved out a little room in the basement that Prismo was explicitly forbidden from entering.
If you had told the Wishmaster he'd be okay with Scarab, of all gods, having a secret room he's not allowed in in the Time Room, well... well, you'd be given quite the strange look, that's for certain.
"Scrabby! Can you come out of your lair for a moment?"
"For the last time Prismo, it's not a lair, it's a work room!" Regardless of the terminology of whatever was going on in Scarab's little private room, the beetle acquiesced and emerged into the main chamber. "What is it?"
"Our uh... Bodies are here."
It was always just mildly upsetting to Prismo when they just... appeared. It unnerved him to see his own sleeping body at the best of times, but seeing it completely still, not even breathing, was... strange.
"Ah, okay. Is it almost time for the Gala then?"
"We have I think 3 More Time waves before the party officially starts, so we should probably start getting ready now."
"And how long are these good for?"
"Uhhh... I think 50 Time Waves?"
"Why do they stick around so long after the party?"
"I don't know, actually. Maybe they're being nice?"
"I've never known the higher ups for being... Nice. Regardless, how does this work?"
Prismo stretched his arms a bit, examining the two empty shells on the ground. "Don't worry, it's easy. Alright, so all you've gotta do is touch it, and imagine yourself waking up. It's not super nice feeling when you first wake up, just as a warning. Watch."
Prismo slid across the floor, positioning himself completely covering his body, and closed his eyes. He felt himself fade, almost like he was disappearing, but sensation quickly returned as he jumped into his body. He pulled in a gasp of air, everything tingling as his senses caught up with him.
"Prismo? Are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah..." His voice sounded dry. He needed some water. He ran fingers through his long hair and beard as he sat up. "See? Easy."
"Are you certain you're okay?"
"I'm fine. It just... takes a minute for me to adjust. I'm not 3d very often." Prismo laughed it off, but it didn't stop him from holding a hand over a now beating heart and breathing lungs. "Your turn."
Scarab hesitated, looking between his body and Prismo. Slowly, he crawled over, letting himself overlap with the shell. The blue shadow faded, the body shooting up into an upright position, breathing heavily.
"Oh, that felt wretched..." The beetle could only describe it as similar to that falling sensation one has that jars them awake.
Scarab looked as he flexed his own fingers, claws lightly clicking together. It felt... strange to be in a body like this again. His senses buzzed. He felt the weight of his shell for the first time in months. The weight of his mask...
Slowly, he rearranged the mask to tuck behind his head. He would be going to this party as himself. Proudly.
"Heya gorgeous."
Prismo had scooched a bit closer, taking advantage of new senses to hold his love for the first time in a 3d space.
Scarab's breath hitched. He was not prepared for how... warm and soft Prismo's touch would be. He had gotten used to the Wishmaster's touch in their wall forms. But... touch in the third dimension... gentle touch, touch not meant to harm him, it was... new. Alien. His mandibles thrummed as he leaned into the hold, purring, claws experimentally touching the soft, coiling gray hair nearly covering his partner.
Prismo, meanwhile, was fascinated. He explored the texture of Scarab's shell and face. The fine grooves separating the plating reminded him of polished armor. But it was warm, alive, he could feel the beetles muscles moving underneath, the thrum of blood and life. And his pink face, while prickly at the edges, was soft to cradle.
"There you are... That's my pretty Lovebug. Look at you..."
Scarab preened under the touch and praise. He was beautiful. Prismo made him believe it.
"I must say... I think you're quite lovely in this form as well."
Prismo's cheeks flushed a lovely pinkish red color, Scarab chirping in pride. He nuzzled at him, marveling at the feeling of it with a physical body.
"I'm going to go get ready, Prismo. I'll meet you at the Judgement Hall lobby."
"Alright, Scrabs. I'll be looking for you."
The bug purred one more time before sequestering himself in his mystery room once more.
Prismo chuckled as he himself got ready.
Brushing his long, unruly hair was a task in and of itself. He pulled part of the mop into something a bit more elegant, a waterfall of gray tied neatly with a pink and gold ribbon falling down his back.
Prismo wasn't much for formal clothing, but he did like robes. Something soft, light, breathable. And had amassed quite the collection from these Galas in the past. He did like his pinks and golds, but who could blame him? He liked how he looked in them.
The robe had layers of color to it, a light pink similar to his shadow form on the inner most layer, slowly shifting out into a dark, rosy red. There were imagery of gold eyes and hands cascading down the back and sleeves, giving way to constellations and stars on the long skirt that dragged a little on the floor.
He accessorized with bracelet and rings and necklaces and pendants until he glittered like the stars. That was always his favorite part of these events, the accessorizing. He wasn't one to care much about looks, but he did enjoy making himself sparkle.
He looked into a summoned mirror, checking everything from head to toe. His golden orange sash was tied nicely, his sandals looked good, everything was in place. Perfect.
"Scrabby, I'm heading out now! I'll see you there, Lovebug!"
In lieu of a proper response, he heard a loud chirp echoing from down in the basement.
Prismo couldn't help but be curious about what Scarab was doing. All the more reason to be excited, he supposed.
In a rainbow of fragmented light, Prismo deposited himself outside the lobby of the Judgement Hall, other gods already milling about and conversing.
"Prismo! Sho-Hoot man, I always forget how nice you clean up for these events."
The Cosmic Owl flew over to him, dawned in a cloak of gold and silver feathers of starlight. Death also joined him, in a simple, but sharp looking white robe. In the distance, Prismo could spot Life, in a beautiful flower and coral dress, chatting with some other gods.
"Aw, thanks. You two look nice too! It's nice you got to bring Life with you this time, Death."
"We both needed the night out."
"Where's Scarab? He's coming right?"
"Yeah, but he wanted to arrive separately. Said he wanted to surprise me, so I'm indulging. He wouldn't even give me a hint, man."
"Well, consider me intrigued."
The three chatted for a while, Life soon coming to join them, after giving Death a peck on the cheek of course.
"And then the dude just... just tried to pluck one of my feathers out! Like for a good luck charm or something. Do people not get that dreams aren't physical?"
"I don't know, man, people just don't know how to act around you, I guess," Prismo chuckled. He was about to add on, when the doors opened, and a hush fell over the lobby.
Prismo looked toward the entrance, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"...Sho-Hoot, man."
And in walked Scarab.
50 notes · View notes
void-ink-studios · 5 months
Text
Word to the Manager
In which Orbo's long deserved ass beating is finally wrought. The Organizer has some plausibly deniability, don't worry. It's just a friendly chat.
:)
Enjoy!
Word Count: 2,000
Prismo felt bad about waiting for Scarab to be sleeping before heading out. He couldn't let the beetle try and stop him. He'd say a lot of things. It was unprofessional. Let the Higher Ups handle it. Don't make waves.
Prismo, to put it bluntly, didn't give a shit. Screw professionalism. Screw making waves. He had a mission.
At least he remembered to leave a note.
Scarab,
I'm heading out. Business from the Organizer. Gave me a body. Will be back soon. Left you some puzzles. Enjoy.
Love, Prismo
Yeah, that was good enough. And only partially a lie. He stretched his arms, feeling his dormant magic tingling in his fingers.
He beamed himself to the Organizer's office, his face firm and steady.
"Ah. Prismo. Good day."
"Good day, Organizer, ma'am."
The two gods stared at each other in tense silence.
"...You know why I'm here, ma'am."
"I do."
Prismo held a firm stare. If someone told him he'd be staring down one of the highest of the pantheon with resolute determination, he'd have laughed nervously and disregarded it.
Now though?
He was on a mission. And the Organizer could either be helpful or a hindrance, but it was being complete. Today.
"I can't say I recommend this course of action, Prismo."
"Are you going to stop me?"
"I wouldn't have authorized a use of your body if I was going to. But, for the record, what is your intention in visiting my assistant. And this is for the record."
Prismo caught what she was hinting at. He smiled.
"I'm simply here to resolve some differences."
"Hmm." She was quiet for a moment before pulled out a sheet, writing something down, and stamping it. "Very well. Here, you will need this. Lower your head please."
Prismo nodded, bowing slightly. She placed a crystal chain headband around the crown of his head, a strange magic surrounding his mind.
"It is very easy to get lost in the Archive. This will help guide your way, if you know what it is you seek. Don't lose it."
"Thank you, ma'am."
He straightened back out as a door besides the desk slid open. A wafting smell of dust poured out, but it hardly phased the Organizer.
"He'll be back there. Somewhere. Good luck."
Prismo nodded, running fingers through his curls as he stepped to the dark doorway.
"Oh, Wishmaster?"
He looked up at her. The two held eye contact for a few beats.
"I care about Scarab. Very much. While I defer to the Judge's ruling, I can't help but think about what the Observer reported."
Prismo blinked. The Organizer looked back. He nodded. They understood each other.
He stepped into the Archive.
Prismo had never seen the Archive before this moment. In fact, very few beings in the multiverse had seen even a glimpse of it.
The stacks of filing cabinets seemed to extend forever upwards, into the sky. A cosmic storm raged swirled above them, the stacks disappearing into the swirling stars. Rafters and ladders crisscrossed like an intricate spider web, connecting everything into what must be the more organized chaos imaginable. The door ground into its frame as it slid shut behind the Wishmaster.
Idly, Prismo opened a cabinet, flipping through the strangely thick folders. Random names, in languages long dead, were stamped on the tabs. Name after name after name.
The crystal sitting on Prismo's forehead lit up, projecting an orb of white light a few inches in front of his face.
He shut the cabinet, looking around the random hallways, seemingly endlessly extending into the far-off background.
"Geeze... Srabs and the Organizer wasn't kidding. Endless Archive, huh?"
The orb in front of him seemed to glow a bit bigger and brighter, depending on the direction he faces. He privately thanked the Organizer for her handy little trinket and set off.
The entire Archive smelled of dust, rain, and faintly of ozone. Distantly above him, the stary clouds rumbled with thunder. He could almost find it peaceful, if not for the occasional distant hiss and growl echoing from... somewhere.
Hmm...
As he walked, he watched the random eyes and hands that would occasionally fly in, flip through a cabinet, and fly back out with a folder in hand. Some cabinets seemed constantly open, pens constantly writing new pages. It was like watching someone's life, being lived right before his eyes, in the most clinical way possible. He wondered if this was connected to the Observer in any way. The Organizer called him her brother, didn't she?
His ponderings were interrupted quite abruptly, the ground shuddered, making the Wishmaster hold on as the floor seemed to rotate. He looked up, seeing the walkways and rafters change with a loud, echoing groan, settling into new paths.
He blinked, eyes wide as the world settled again.
It was a marvle the Organizer could find... well, anything in here. He made a note to get her a mug or something. Maybe a nice houseplant. Glob knows she deserved it.
The white light started to turn red, and he heard the distant muttering of a certain orb. He took a steadying breath. He prepared himself.
He turned the corner and saw Orbo. Trying and failing to find some specific folder, several others stacked behind him on a cart.
"Orbo."
The Star Core yelped, spinning on his axis for a second, before sighing in relief at the sight of Prismo.
"Prismo! Oh, Prismo, thank Glob!"
Prismo raised an eyebrow, his arms folded in front of him, expression unreadably.
"Did they send you down here too? What is happening to this pantheon, mate? What'd you do to end up here?"
"I'm not being punished. I'm here on my own free will. Was looking for you, actually."
Orbo's expression lit up. There was hope in his smile, barreling towards the Wishmaster with glee. Prismo took a step back to avoid getting bowled over. "Prismo, you gotta get me outta here mate! Look, this place makes no sense! They expect me, me, to organize this nonsense? And, I think.... I think there's something in here with me. It's following me. Watching."
Prismo heard the desperation in his voice. Something in his gut flickered. Was this a good idea...? Did he really need to add to this punishment?
"Maybe the Organizer's just watching over you."
"Yeah, watching me suffer. She had the gall to pull me into her office, into court before the Judge, and stick me here. And for what? I was perfectly in my rights! It was signed, I had the right to punish Scarab however I saw fit!"
The spark Prismo felt pretty much immediately died.
"So, you saw nothing wrong with what you did to him?"
"Did to him? Mate, that was my right as his boss. Shouldn't have been so disrespectful. Ungrateful."
Prismo stared in complete disbelief.
"Man. You really don't know how to take a hint, do you?"
"What's that?"
"Actually, no, it's not even a hint at this point. It's a big neon sign that you can't see apparently! Orbo, you're a monster! Like, as someone who has an actual monster aspect, you are a monster."
Orbo sputtered, indignant.
"Me?! I'm the monster here? Yeah, sure, the Star Core with these rad shades is the monster. Not that skittering little beast pretending to be-"
Prismo didn't let him finish. His magic lifted Orbo up into the air, then slammed him back down, face first, into the tiles, making a nice little crater in the floor.
"Prismo-"
"No. You're gonna shut up, and you're gonna listen."
"Mate, I-"
Prismo slammed him against the floor again.
"Shut up. Listen."
The orb made a groaning sound from his crater, but wisely said nothing else.
"Scarab did not deserve what you did you him. He didn't deserve to be humiliated by you. He didn't deserve to be tortured by you."
"I don't think tortured is-"
Prismo slammed him into the floor. "I can keep doing that all day. Shut up. Listen. Or I keep doing that until we find out how deep this floor goes before it's just void."
The orb made no sound, other than a whispery groan. Prismo smirked. Good.
"You tortured him, Orbo. He had nightmares, terrible ones, because of you. You left him with pain and suffering, for hundreds of thousands of years. You understand that? Eternity is a long time, Orbo. And you took all the steps to make his just that extra bit more miserable."
Prismo felt Nightmo bubble in his chest, but he swallowed that down. He wanted to be cognizant for this.
"I can't exactly do what I'd want to do. You don't have limbs to pull apart. The Judge decided this was punishment enough. Scarab seems to think so. But... well, the Judgement Hall failed him enough, I'd say. So. Think of this as a little gift. From me to you, 'mate'."
Prismo might not have his Dreamer's magic, not entirely at least.
But Prismo the Wishmaster was a dream of the greatest human wizard to have ever lived.
Prismo's magic ground and pulled at the Star Core's body, manipulating the magic that made up his body. It sounded liked it hurt, if the noises Orbo was making was any indication. It was like playing an instrument, plucking on invisible strings. He wondered if the orb could fall apart if he plucked the wrong string.
With one harsh pull, Orbo burst into a violent pop of color, his for destabilizing for a brief moment. He at least offered him the moment for recovery.
"You think you're being watched. Being followed by whatever might be out there, stalking the halls. Well, let me make it more... certain for you."
From his mouth a serpent like Nightmare coiled from his throat, around his arm, and biting into Orbo. He yelped, trying to roll out of the crater Prismo had created, but the serpent continued to take nasty bites out of him.
"Meet your new 'mate'. He hates you as much as I do. He never stops biting. Not until Scarab forgives you, at least. So, who knows when that might be? Have fun. You two are meant for each other."
Orbo yelped, running in circles, trying and failing to outrun (outroll?) his new best friend.
"Have a nice eternity, Orbo. It's only fair, mate."
Prismo turned and started his trek back, whistling to himself.
The Organizer did little but cast a curious glance at Prismo as he emerged.
"Your meeting went well then?"
"Yep."
"I suppose I should not be worried about the slamming sound I heard back there?"
"Just a stack tipping over, ma'am."
"Hmm. Very well. Thank you for your visit, Wishmaster. Do have a good rest of your day. And tell Scarab I said hello."
"Will do. Remember to take a break, ma'am."
"The paperwork never rests, Prismo, and neither do I. I appreciate the sentiment."
Prismo chuckled as he warped himself back to the Time Room.
He grinned as he took in the sight he was greeted with. Scarab had seemingly found the puzzles he left him, as he was meticulously making a picture of a galaxy. From... the inside out?
"Don't most people solve the edges first, Lovebug?"
Scarab jumped, his head snapping up to look at Prismo. "Prismo! There you are!"
"I thought I left you a note!"
"Prismo. 'Business with the Organizer' could not have sounded more vague or ominous."
"Well, I'm fine, and I'm done. C'mon, show me what you have done."
Scarab chirped at him with confusion, but let his attention be turned to the puzzle.
Prismo listen to him explain his strange process, smiling dumbly at him.
Scarab probably wouldn't have approved of Prismo's methods. He'd say the Judge's ruling was enough for him, and that Prismo should let it go.
But Prismo had seen the pain left behind. The pain and fear and anxiety left in Scarab's body, even after hearing of the decision.
He'd tell him what he did. Later. But puzzles came first.
44 notes · View notes