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ishouldbedoinghw · 10 months

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You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 3

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: slavery, human trafficking, vomit, mentions of attempted sexual abuse, traumatic flashbacks, discussion of trauma, general angst

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The first thing I remember next is vomit. There's acid pouring out of my mouth and sweat covering my body, and I'm emptying my stomach again and again and again until I don't think I even have bones anymore.

I'm hunched over, gripping the sides of a bucket so hard my knuckles turn white and my fingertips bleed. My clothing sticks to my body, and my mouth is writhing with the taste of vomit and bitter salt. My right hand reaches under me, trying to find some stability and trace the seven grooves in the floor. I can't feel them. The floor beneath me isn't the smooth wood I'm accustomed to, but a bumpy, moist texture that makes me want to vomit again.

Where am I what am I doing why am I sick what's happened-

A hand gingerly touches my back, and a white-hot pain tears through my body, making me scream. The hand quickly withdraws, taking the pain with it. At first, I think it might be the honey-man, then nausea rolls through me again as I picture the not-boy's hands touching me again, and I'm gagging over the bucket.

"It- it's alright, I won't touch you again," says a voice behind me, and I want to whirl around and put space between me and whoever is calling out to me, but the most my body will do is heave itself around slowly. My limbs feel heavy, and my head is pounding with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of dark blonde hair before I let out a choked sob that I don't quite understand. I spent my life serving the not-boy, why do I now want to scream at the thought of him being here?

Despite my mind's screaming protests, the blonde hair moves closer to me, and the blurred figure becomes a face. I relax slightly - it isn't him.

But I can't convince myself that I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing anyone that looked like this man, he was never someone that came into the not-boy's room. He wasn't the honey-man, and I'd never heard his voice even murmuring in the hallways or through the walls.

"My name is Hongo," he speaks again, gesturing toward himself. "I'm a doctor, I'm here to make sure you're okay, and I'm not going to hurt you."

A doctor?

I stay silent, and he speaks again.

"What's your name?"

My mouth is sticky and unyielding as I try to open it. He looks at me, not speaking.

Is he just waiting for me to say something?

He's sitting cross-legged across from me, and I feel very... studied under his gaze. There's a scar creeping from his hairline, and most of his dirty blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail near the top of his head, the rest shaved from the top of his ear down. He's clearly older, but he moves with the energy of a much younger man, still full of life.

My tongue loosens, and I finally say, "They call me Cheeper."

He smiles at me then, all teeth that splits his face in two. He's missing a couple of teeth on one side, and I find myself staring at the gaps.

"But is that your name?" he presses further.

I really didn't think it was, the longer I thought about it. I think at one point I'd been something else, but I'd been Cheeper for so long that it was really the only name I associated myself with.

"No," I said finally, shifting my gaze from him to the floor.

"Do you have a name?"

Why does he care so much?

"I don't know," I shrug and start picking at the floor, somewhat missing the familiar one, two, three, four, five, six, seven grooves again. My body was still uncomfortably sticky, and my fingers left little semi-transparent smears as I traced shapes in the floor. The more I move my hands, the more I notice them shaking.

Hongo's hand starts reaching toward me again, and I find myself shuffling away before my back hits the wall behind me, and that burning pain shoots through me again. I let out a choked sob at the sensation, and he snatches his hand back, looking a bit sheepish.

"Is it okay if I touch you? Sorry I didn't ask before, I'm used to- well, different kinds of patients."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, and I didn't ask. I just force myself to nod, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the pain from earlier.

Hongo's POV

"It would be better if you opened your eyes for this, might help you keep calm if you can see what I'm doin'," I say, reaching for a pair of thin gloves from on top of the table to my right.

She warily opens her eyes again, but doesn't relax an ounce, even at the sight of the gloves. She almost reminds me of a deer, with the way her spindly limbs tremble and how she looks at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"How about you just watch what I'm doing, you can tell me to stop anytime," I say as gently as I can, showing her my hands.

Her pale lips twitch, and her eyes are watery at she looks away, clearly fighting with herself. I wait, moving my hands to now fold them in my lap.

"I-" she finally says, her voice barely audible. "I don't want it to hurt again."

I shift closer to where she's cowered in the corner as subtly as I can, holding my arm out.

"Look," I say softly, "Touch my arm."

She doesn't move, so I continue:

"I think you have some injury on your back that's causing that pain. I won't touch you there if you don't want, but I need to see what other injuries you have if you don't wanna get more sick."

She looks at me again, tears spilling down her face as she says, "Okay."

I grab her wrist as gingerly as I can, and she visibly flinches as I press her fingertips to my arm.

"See?" I say, giving her what I hope is a comforting smile. She doesn't shy away as I release her wrist, so I take that as permission to continue.

She watches me with wide eyes as I check over her exposed skin. She's ghastly pale, and extremely dehydrated - to be expected from someone who was just fished out of the ocean and promptly puked everywhere. Her skin is raw and bruising around her neck, but nothing too serious as far as I can tell.

Lean back away from her, I start chewing on the inside of my cheek as I figure out what to say next. I don't want to push her, especially considering I'm a man she doesn't know, but I'm worried about the pain in her back.

I let out a sigh, and say "Listen, I know you're scared, and you don't want me to touch your back, but I need to see what's wrong so I can help."

"Do you promise you're going to help?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but I can't help but be thrilled that she's cooperated thus far. I stand, holding my hand out to her. She stares at it for a moment before putting both of her hands in mine, gripping both sides of my palm as I help lift her to her feet. She doesn't let go, and her legs tremble beneath her as her grip on my hand tightens.

Can she even stand on her own?

I start chewing the inside of my cheek again as I take just how truly tiny she really is. I can't even tell how old she is, she's all bones and pale skin, and my stomach clenches as I take in how malnourished she seems to be. I let her lean on me as I lead her to the bed on the other side of the room. As I gently guide her to sit down, her arm shoots down to stabilize herself on the stiff mattress. I almost turn back around to grab the puke bucket again as I watch her head hang and her breath quicken, but she looks up at me again after a minute, waiting for me to start.

"I promise that I'm here to help, but I can't promise this is going to be painless."

Her throat bobs, and for a moment I'm afraid she'll refuse my help, but she nods her head. I let out a sigh of relief, and start checking her vitals, saving the inspection of her back for last. I start mumbling what I'm doing once I touch her, hoping to offer some form of comfort.

Finally, I let out a puff of air and stand to full height, my knees cracking a bit as I did so.

"Alright, girlie, I need to lift your shirt up to see what's going on there, okay? I'm just gonna push it up over your shoulders, and it'll stay covering your front."

She just nodded once, and hunched over a bit more. The corner of my mouth twitches at her attempt to help. I had no idea where the poor girl came from, or how she'd ended up with some mermaid, especially so far from Fishman Island. Hell, even she didn't know. As I sat down next to her and gingerly started lifting the hem of her ratty shirt, I tried wracking my brain to figure out how a person couldn't even remember their own damn name.

A sour smell hit me as I slowly pushed her shirt up to her shoulders, and I could see raw, festering skin underneath. Bile rose into my throat, and my breathing grew unsteady as I saw the full state of her back. There, settling an infection deep into this girl's back, was the brand of the Celestial Dragons.

And it all made sense. The raw skin and bruising around her throat, the lack of any nourishment, right down to her lack of spirit-

My hand started shaking as my gaze traveled down to the exposed skin of her hips, littered in bruises. My breathing grew labored, and I had to clench my fist to keep myself from pulling her into my chest and telling her it would be alright, she was safe, and that she was far away from whatever sick bastards had done this to her.

But I couldn't scare her. I'm not even sure she was aware of anything that had really happened to her, and I sure as hell didn't know how to tell her.

I knelt in front of her so that I was at her eye level, and steadied my breathing.

"Well, girlie, you've got a nasty burn that looks infected. It's gonna hurt like a bitch, but I've gotta clean it and treat it or it'll get a lot worse."

To be honest, I wasn't sure how that infection hadn't killed her already. If she couldn't even remember where she came from, and she didn't even know what was on her own body, I can't even imagine how long she'd been under their control.

"Girlie," I started softly, "Do you know where you got all this?"

She looks at me, and shifts on the bed to run a trembling hand through her hair. It looks like a deep maroon or magenta, and seems to have been buzzed fairly recently.

"I don't know. I-"

She was cut off with a sharp knock on the door. I wanted to groan, knowing exactly who it was interrupting me. The door swings open, and there he stands - my captain, Red-Hair Shanks.

#one piece #red haired shanks #straw hat pirates #mihawk #mihawk x reader #tw r4p3 #tw sex trafficking

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anxiescape · 1 year

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Celestial Bodies AU: A Battle Between Two Monkeys

*contains major spoilers for Celestial Bodies*

(Also, warning, this is a bit of a long read.)

EDIT: Forgot to mention that I wrote this out to answer a question for @mage-of-words, so I hope this answers it! (The tag isn’t working and I don’t know why 😭)

So, do you guys remember how in JTTW, Wukong and Macaque had that huge fight during the journey, which ended in Macaque’s death? Of course you do.

But did you know that that same battle happens in Celestial Bodies? And that it still results in Macaque’s death?

“But why?” I can hear you asking in despair. “They’re so sweet with each other. They love each other. Wukong legiterally takes on the Jade Emperor for him! Why would they fight? And why would Wukong kill Macaque?”

Well, let’s start at the... not the beginning, per se, but at a significant point in the story, shortly before Wukong was thrown into the Trigram Furnace.

During a talk between Wukong and the Jade Emperor, the Emperor claims that Macaque betrayed Wukong, and told the Celestial Realm all about Wukong’s plans and such during the battle. This isn’t true (the Jade Emperor be bluffin’ here), and Wukong doesn’t want to believe him, but... how else could he have lost?

(Because you’re an overconfident, cocky idiot, Wukong. That’s how you lost. But anyway.)

During his 49 days in the furnace, and his 500 years under the Five-Phases Mountain, Wukong has a long time to think about things. About Macaque, and their relationship, but one thing that keeps coming to his mind is what the Jade Emperor told him about Macaque’s supposed betrayal. This continues to be on his mind, even during the journey.

Now, let’s swap to Macaque’s POV. He has been in a magic-induced sleep since his capture by the Celestial Realm. Pretty fun, right?

Well, the Jade Emperor and Lao Tzu have been at work. Obviously, Macaque was pretty darn useful to them, what with his super-hearing and natural intelligence and all. He was a pretty good fighter, too. Obviously, they want him back. But they’re not going to risk waking him, because then that gives him the chance to escape.

So Lao Tzu has been at work. He has been experimenting—making clones of our celestial moon monkey boi. It took at least a couple hundred years before he succeeded in making one that was actually stable and could survive outside of his laboratory, but he isn’t able to make a spirit to put into them—to give them life.

Now this gets into, like, sci-fi territory, just a little bit. Do y’all know that one episode of Doctor Who, where Amy Pond was replaced by a flesh duplicate? (Uhh... Doctor Who spoilers, by the way. 👀) She was piloting the duplicate from a weird tube/containment pod thing that she was trapped in, and she never even knew that it wasn’t her real body, or that anything was amiss, until she was released from the connection with it.

A very similar thing happens here with Macaque. Using some pretty intense magic seals and spells, Macaque’s mind is connected to the first proper clone. From there, Lao Tzu tries to brainwash him, for lack of a better term. And the “good” thing about these clones is that they are significantly weaker than a celestial monkey. So anytime Macaque tries to break free and escape in one of the clones, he is restrained, and the connection is broken until they are ready to try again. If they fail to restrain the clone and he flees, it is destroyed.

This continues for many, many years—decades, if not centuries—until Macaque’s brain is so messed up that he stops trying to run. Then the real brainwashing can begin. They tell Macaque that Sun Wukong has been captured, and is being held captive by a group of demons and their human master. They tell Macaque that they will allow him to go after Wukong, and if he can free him, then the two monkeys can go live happily ever after—they don’t care about the war anymore.

Obviously, this sounds too good to be true. But Macaque is desperate at this point, and his brain is really confused with all sorts of “false memories” that are left over from the previous “de-comissioned” clones. This poor monkey has suffered through quite a bit of gaslighting, as well. So he eagerly agrees to this plan, and is sent off in search of the scripture pilgrims.

“Woah, woah, wait,” you’re probably thinking. “Why would the Celestial Realm send Macaque after the pilgrims? Don’t they want the scriptures retrieved and all that? Aren’t they on Tripitaka’s side? Kinda?”

Well, yes. But as mentioned before, the Macaque clones are weaker than actual celestial monkeys. They are much easier to kill. So, Lao Tzu and the Jade Emperor’s plan is for Macaque’s clone and Wukong to fight, and for Wukong to kill the clone. Then Wukong will think that Macaque is dead, and he won’t bother to look for him anymore anyway, because obviously he would hate Macaque for attacking his pilgrim brothers, right? And then they can leave Macaque’s sleeping form to rot in its prison cell, forgotten, never to wake and cause trouble for them ever again.

Well, not exactly. Wukong fights the clone, and kills it out of a mixture of rage, exhaustion, and many other overwhelming feelings, and he is distraught. He can’t believe what he has done to the one that he truly loved. And he breaks down.

But luckily, the Buddha is here, and he’s pretty frickin’ cool. He could tell immediately that the clone was not the actual Six-Eared Macaque, and he lets Wukong know this. Mr. All-Knowing here lets Wukong know that Macaque is still in the Celestial Realm, being kept captive under powerful spells and hidden away in Lao Tzu’s tower. This sounds too good to be true, but Wukong is willing to believe it—it’s better than believing that he killed Macaque.

So the journey continues, and eventually comes to an end. And now it’s time for a monkey rescue. Wukong and his awesome pilgrim brothers head back to the Celestial Realm to get Macaque back, and I’m not gonna spoil any of that fun 😈, but it does result in Wukong rescuing Macaque and waking him from his so-called “eternal slumber.”

This is the first time Macaque has “woken up” since his “death” by Wukong’s hands, and the first time he has actually woken up since he was placed under the sleep spell. Macaque tells Wukong about this awful dream that he had where they fought, and Wukong killed him. Wukong is silent.

Macaque’s voice shook as he looked Wukong in the eyes, and fearfully whispered: “It... it wasn’t a dream. Was it?”

Yeah, these monkeys have a lot that they need to work through. But that’s okay. Now they have each other, and all the time in the world to work things out. Together.

The end. 💕

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Sorry for that info-dump, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway! Let me know what you think!

Also, you guys can thank Amalgamorph for this wonderful clone-Macaque idea, because I was originally just going to have Macaque straight up die. It was going to be really sad. 😭

#celestial bodies au #monkie kid fanfiction #lego monkie kid #six eared macaque #sun wukong #my art #celestial bodies spoilers

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bloo-the-dragon · 2 years

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Got a lil sick the other day. Drew some quick Sun and Moon plague doctors concept designs while i’m recovering

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's security breach #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moon #fnaf moondrop #fnaf fanart #plague doctor #plague doctor au #i guess?#Bloo's Art #will continue working on art for the asks after i've rested some more #for now here's a couple of celestial doctor bois

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fickleminder · 4 years

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the years start coming and they don’t stop coming

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

Part 2 here

You’ve never seen the demon prince look so embarrassed.

“I can call for —”

“No, it’s okay. They deserve this.”

But you don’t, goes unspoken. You can see the pity in his eyes, feel the palpable disappointment in the air. Even Simeon and Luke make sure to hug you extra tight before stepping through the portal to the Celestial Realm, and Solomon promises to check up on you after you’ve returned home.

Thanking Lord Diavolo and Barbatos for their hospitality, you turn towards the final demon in the council room and put on the biggest grin your breaking heart can muster. “Hey, c’mere.”

Satan doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you. It’s almost like he’s trying to make up for his brothers’ absence, the way he crushes you to his chest and cradles the back of your head.

You can’t find it in yourself to blame them. As far as miracles go, this is a pretty big one. Lilith coming back to life is an unprecedented event, one not even Barbatos had seen coming. Nobody has any answers either. She’s definitely not a demon, not an angel, not human; just an immortal who knocked on the front door of the House of Lamentation three days ago.

Her brothers haven’t left her alone since. You’re happy for them, you really are, but a bitter part of you can’t help but wish her return had waited until after the exchange program ended. At least Lucifer had the courtesy to pull you aside and thank you on his family’s behalf (though you’re quite certain you had nothing to do with your ancestor’s sudden revival), in addition to making a pact with you as a token of his gratitude.

With that, you could have summoned all of them to send you off just as effectively as Lord Diavolo giving the order, but it won’t be the same and you know it. Your only saving grace is Satan, the one brother who’d kept his head and anchored you in the sea of loneliness you’d been set adrift in over the last few days.

“I’m gonna miss you, cat boy.”

“I miss you already,” Satan laughs softly, pulling back with a warm smile. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise.”

You squeeze his arms affectionately and glance past his shoulders at the closed doors. There’s the smallest shred of hope in you that thinks the others will come bursting through any moment now, scrambling for one final chance to see you. You give yourself five seconds, silently counting down to a pipe dream, before pressing a kiss to Satan’s cheek and releasing him.

“It might not seem like it now, but the Devildom will always be here for you,” Lord Diavolo says as the world around you fades to white. “Farewell.”

“Did you lose track of time at the library again? You missed dinner last night LOL.”

“Levi, be nice!”

Satan only hums quietly in response. He can’t be bothered to correct the assumption; it’s a convenient excuse for when his brothers actually notice he’s missing anyway.

The irony of Levi calling him out isn’t lost on him. While the otaku is still obsessed with his games and shows, he’s no longer as shut-in as he used to be, venturing outside the comforts of his sanctuary more often. Satan has passed by the common room on many occasions to find him and Lilith gaming or binging anime together, and the content expression on Levi’s face proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the void from his Henry’s departure has long been filled.

“Oh, but speaking of,” Lilith sets her cutlery down and smiles shyly at the fourth-born, “I haven’t had the chance to explore the libraries here yet. If it’s not too much trouble, can you show me around and recommend a few books?”

Shrugging non-committedly, Satan continues with his meal, not once looking her in the eye.

You’ve always wondered how someone with the Avatar of Lust for a brother can have such terrible fashion sense. It should be impossible to go wrong with dressing for a funeral, but you guess life (along with a certain eyesore of a tie) just loves to disappoint you. Still, you’re too glad to have Satan with you right now to care.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

You lean into the demon’s side as he holds an umbrella over both of you. Your eyes are drawn to the flowers he’d placed on your mother’s grave, the only splash of color against the dull tombstone. For the longest time, all you can process is the pitter-patter of the afternoon rain on the plastic wrap of the bouquet, and the comforting weight of Satan’s arm across your shoulders.

“She was in a lot of pain,” you admit after a while, your voice slightly hoarse. “The doctors had to sedate her. She went in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” Satan fidgets awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. He’s no stranger to death, but the loss of someone dear is unfamiliar to him. “Perhaps Simeon can find out if —”

“No, no it’s fine. I just — I need to —”

The umbrella is forgotten as Satan catches you, lowering you gently to the ground when your knees give way. You cling to him desperately, and it’s all he can do to draw you close as you start to wail.

Satan barely makes it three steps into the house before getting pounced on.

“How was it? Where did you go? Ooh you lucky demon, I want to hear all the details!”

“Oi, oi! What are you babbling on about?”

“Don’t act coy with me! Lilith saw you at the florist’s yesterday with the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers!”

“Yesterday? But —”

“How come you never told me someone caught your eye? I would have dolled you up, lent you some of my clothes —” Asmo gasps dramatically. “You didn’t wear that horrid jacket to your date, did you?”

Wrestling a hand free, Satan musses his younger brother’s hair. “None of your business,” he growls, walking away with a smirk when Asmo immediately releases him to fix his appearance. “Who do you take me for, anyway?”

“Aww come on, just give me a hint! Do I know them? Is it someone from RAD? Ooh, did you meet them at the library or —”

Ducking into the safety of his room, Satan shuts the door in Asmo’s face.

“Thank fuck. Who picked your outfit this time?”

“Barbatos. And shut up.”

You grab Satan’s arm with a laugh and lead him towards your table, politely introducing him as ‘Stan from work’ to any relatives who ask about the handsome young man accompanying you. Satan’s usual mask is in place, but there’s no mistaking the gleam of wonder in his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat and grinning sheepishly at the blond. “Sorry about them. It’s just that they’ve never seen me with anyone, so they’re really curious about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you invited me along. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” The romantic in Satan is openly basking in the ambience of the reception. “You mentioned that your niece had gotten married?”

“Technically my first cousin once removed, but yeah.”

“And you’ve not been seeing anyone?”

“You would have been the first to know if I have,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “Apparently a lot of people are put off by the way I dress. Too modest, they say.”

But not without good reason. The pact marks on your body may be slightly faded from disuse, but they’re still discernable if stared at hard enough: Lucifer’s at the back of your neck; Mammon’s over your heart; Levi’s curled around your right calf; Satan’s circling your left arm; Asmo’s dangerously close to tramp stamp territory; Beel’s just under your navel; and Belphie’s on your ribs at the side you like to sleep on.

Passing them off as tattoos without attracting the wrong kind of attention is a little tricky, so you’d rather take a page from Solomon’s book and cover them up. Being called a prude is easier than dealing with cultists.

(It also helps you to keep your mind off of them, because some wounds continue to hurt even after they heal, so there’s that.)

Sensing the drop in your mood, Satan clears his throat to get your attention. It’s only then that you realize there’s music playing in the background, and couples moving from their tables to the floor.

Your companion stands up and offers you his hand, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “May I have this dance?”

Lucifer’s tone books no room for argument. “This will be a family event, so I expect your attendance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little escapades over the past few months.”

“Tch.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Satan has to resist the urge to hurl his hardcover at the back of Lucifer’s head when he takes his leave. That’s no way to treat a book, after all.

Beel’s Fangol team has an upcoming match and it’ll be Lilith’s first time watching him play. She’s been hyped up for weeks, so it comes as no surprise that Lucifer would use the opportunity to turn it into a family outing. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Gone is the stuffy first-born who can spend days in his office if left unchecked. Lucifer is still as strict as ever, still fulfills his duties to Lord Diavolo diligently, but it’s like he’s managed to master balancing work and play overnight. He makes more time for his siblings now, even if it’s to dole out punishments for their endless shenanigans, punishments that vary in severity depending on how cutely Lilith pleads on their behalf.

Lucifer has always doted on her, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Belphie has even gone as far as corrupting her into pranking him, and she need only bat her eyelashes to get off scot-free.

Lilith was the catalyst for the Fall, her descendent the glue that brought her siblings back together, and her return the final piece in making their family whole again.

But you were family too, Satan thinks sourly, pulling out his D.D.D. to mark the date in his calendar.

When you invite Satan over to your apartment for tea, he never expected to be introduced to your new housemate: a handsome fellow with chestnut brown hair, sharp jade eyes, a runner’s body, and the softest-looking toe beans he has ever seen in his immortal life.

“Satan, meet Satan!” You hold out the tabby towards him with a shit-eating grin.

Both demon and cat blink owlishly at each other. The blond doesn’t know whether to feel endeared by the feline sharing his name or insulted that you would replace him so easily, but all it takes is a single bop on the nose with a curious paw for him to melt.

Satan the tabby, who normally prefers to scale your shelves and nap between your books, spends the entire day a purring puddle in Satan the demon’s arms, shamelessly relishing in pets and massages to the extent that at some point, you have a very real fear they might just end up absconding back to the Devildom together. Thankfully, some kibble and freshly baked treats help you separate the two for a while, at least long enough for you to get some decent conversation in.

You brew a pot of Earl Grey with the beautifully crafted tea set Barbatos gifted you when you had first moved in, and serve the scones you made earlier in the morning using the baking tools blessed by Luke during your housewarming. You don’t know if the little angel had actually imbued them with Celestial magic, but everything you cook somehow always lifts your spirits when consumed.

Satan has to catch himself in the middle of regaling you with Mammon’s latest half-baked scheme. The wistful look on your face is new; you’re usually eager to hear what his brothers have been up to, but something feels off today. He pours you more tea, slides another scone onto your plate, and waits.

“…Are they happy?” You ask after a while.

The demon knows better than to lie, even if it’s to spare you from the truth he suspects you’re already aware of. “Yes,” he admits grudgingly.

“I’m glad.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Lilith stands outside his room, holding a tray of tea and cakes.

“Hey, um, may I come in?” Her smile is both hopeful and uncertain. It’s a gamble, ambushing the fourth-born when he obviously has no interest in her. At best, he’ll make up an excuse to turn her away or just ignore her completely; at worst, well… she doesn’t really want to think about that. To her visible relief, he opens the door wider and steps aside.

Satan clears a space for her to set the tray down. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he drags your favorite armchair over and offers her a seat as well. He looks guarded but not openly hostile, a promising sign so far.

“You’ve been in and out of the house lately, so I haven’t had the chance to catch you. I thought we might sit down and talk,” Lilith says, pouring two cups of the hot beverage as she chooses her next words carefully. “The others told me about how you were born, but I understand that you are your own person. I’d like to get to know that person.”

A part of Satan is acutely aware of their one-sided relationship; he is familiar with her through Lucifer, but she has never met him. It makes sense for her to be curious about him, though Satan isn’t so sure he wants to return the favor. She reminds him too much of you in the way she prepares her tea, how she sits on your chair, her shy lopsided smile —

But she’s not you, and you’re not her, Satan has to remind himself lest he commits the same mistake his brothers nearly did after your lineage had been revealed. Now in a convoluted turn of events, it’s you who’s gone and Lilith here, and there’s no reason why he can’t give her a chance and treat her like the sister she could be to him.

It’s what you would have wanted.

Lilith tries not to let her shoulders slump too much when Satan quietly stands up and heads towards his door. She’s prepared to pack up and leave until she spots him grabbing several books from a nearby shelf.

“Have you ever read Mid-Fall Murders?” He asks, handing her a hardcover with a shy smile of his own.

“What’s it like?”

Satan’s grip on your hand tightens. “I don’t actually know,” he confesses, shuffling closer so that your shoulder and arm are pressed against his. It’s a strange sight, the two of you lying side by side on your bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.”

You’ve never heard a single word hold so much promise, but you have no reason to doubt the demon’s sincerity. Satan wouldn’t take pity on you just because you’re —

A light knock on the door, and in pokes Simeon’s head. “Ah, little lamb! I’m glad we made it in time.”

“Not so little anymore, Simeon.” You laugh softly, greeting Luke and Solomon as they trail in behind him. Satan brushes his lips over your forehead before getting up to receive your guests.

The day is as ordinary as it can be. You talk and catch up with your friends, trading stories and laughter over cups of tea that neither grow cold nor go empty. When the session turns into a mini book club gathering halfway through, Luke helpfully retrieves the debated titles from the massive shelf in the living room. He takes a while to find them; you’ve accumulated plenty of works over the years: recommendations by Satan, literature published under Simeon’s pseudonym, and handwritten tomes from Solomon to keep you in touch with your magic. The shelf is practically jam-packed with books, the only exception being a corner on the topmost tier, housing a little space that’s empty save for a worn green collar with a rusted bell.

Come sundown the five of you are still neck-deep in discussion, but as with all good things, the get together eventually reaches an end.

“Thanks everyone, it’s been fun,” you say, reclining back in your bed as Satan wordlessly cleans up. You squeeze his hand when he returns to your side and bid the others goodbye. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys soon?”

“About that…” Solomon clears his throat, wearing the smug look that usually accompanies a trick being pulled out of his sleeve, but this time it’s tinged more with excitement than mischief. “Simeon has a little present for you first.”

The guileless smile on the angel’s face betrays nothing as he steps forward and reaches into a small pouch at his hip. “Solomon, Diavolo and I have a theory. Now, keep in mind that this is all very experimental, but if it works, you’ll have more options to choose from, should you so wish.”

And then he brings out a ring.

“Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“Not in the mood, Mammon.”

“Oi, I’m trying to be nice here! Who do you think covered for your sorry ass when you came back past curfew the other day, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“You may think you’re all stealthy and shit, but your eyes were pretty red that night. I thought you were at a book club meeting. Did something happen?”

“None of your business.”

“Argh, fine then! This is the last time I try to be a good big brother.”

“…Mammon?”

“?”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what are you — you can’t just say that and then run off! Get back here!”

“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

Lilith’s countdown echoes along the deserted hallway, prompting Beel to nudge the deadweight on his back. “Belphie, go get your own hiding place.”

“Mmngh… zzz…”

“Come on, or she’ll win this round with a two for one. Again.”

“…Just dump me somewhere she won’t find me then.”

A tall order, especially since Lilith can easily track them down by listening out for Beel’s stomach and/or Belphie’s snores. Still, the sixth-born lumbers through the house as quietly as he can, doing a one-eighty whenever he hears Lilith’s cheerful hums coming from the opposite direction. Technically they can avoid being caught if they keep moving, but that would be cheating. They hid in the attic previously so that’s a no go, their room’s too obvious, the kitchen too tempting, the common room too exposed…

Maybe Levi’s room? The otaku had sound-proofed his walls to avoid distractions from the outside world when he’s gaming, so it’s an ideal location to hide. He can stash Belphie in the bathtub and run interference until time’s up.

Backtracking, Beel breaks into a light jog towards the other wing, keeping his ears open for their seeker. It’s only because of his heightened senses that he’s able to pick up the faintest traces of magic on one of the walls, causing him to pause in his steps.

“Hmm? Why’d you stop?” Slightly more awake now, Belphie rubs his eyes and slides off his twin, who’s studying the blank space intently. “What’s wrong, Beel?”

“There’s something here, something…”

“It’s just a wall —”

“No, don’t you feel it? I know you weren’t around then, but it’s the same glamor as that time Luke went missing and we —”

Beel goes white. He whispers a name, a name not spoken in the house for years, and a door flickers into view. One hand grabs Belphie’s in a death grip as the other twists the knob and pushes the door open, revealing an old yet familiar room.

The place is devoid of life. Most of the furniture are covered by sheets, resting under thick layers of dust. In the middle sits a tree, sagging with age and soft with rot. Sunken footprints mark the demons’ furtive venture into decrepit memory, and the creaking of floorboards with every step only tethers the growing nightmare closer to reality.

A photo frame crashes to the ground.

They deserve this.

Satan feels it the moment the spell concealing your room was broken. It had been his way of protecting your memory, ensuring that your sanctuary would only be accessible to those who made the effort to remember you. He cast it about a year after you had left the Devildom, after he realized that leaving your door in plain sight wasn’t doing you any favors.

Hidden away in an alcove at the back of the garden, curled up with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, Satan slides a bookmark between the pages of his latest novel and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Even this far away from the house, he can hear the cacophony of screams and shouts, objects being flung and shattered into pieces, a muted bang suggesting that a wall has just collapsed. The fallout comes as no surprise; waking up after living the past hundred years or so in a daze will do that to a person – or in this case, demons.

Although the sounds of fighting call to the rage bubbling within him, the vindictive thoughts of his brothers getting their just desserts cool it to a simmer. He knows he’ll have to face them eventually, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Meow?”

Emerald eyes blink open. There’s a faint rustle from the nearby bushes as a tiny Calico wanders out of the foliage, peering around the garden curiously. Upon spotting the blond demon, it perks up and makes a beeline for him.

“Hm? You’re not Callie. Are you new here, little one?” His mood considerably improved, Satan extends a hand towards the kitten. It skips the finger sniffing step and goes straight to headbutting his palm, begging for attention.

“You’re an affectionate one, aren’t you?” Satan caves immediately and scritches away with a delighted chuckle. He examines the markings on its tri-colored fur, wanting to recognize the friendly feline if it comes back in the future. The Calico is mostly white with patches of brown and black splashed over the back of its neck, near the base of its tail, just under the side of its ribs, and several other spots that seem to collectively resemble a familiar pattern…

Satan’s hand stills. He whispers your name, trembling with hope, and the kitten practically leaps into his arms, nuzzling his chin with a happy purr.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me replaced mc au

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

Story of the Past

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Five

A JSE Fanfic

It’s the backstory chapter! Whoo! djaskfh Anyway, I thought we should hear more about Henrik and Jackie, start to get the details of who they were before the Masked Phantoms. And also, it’s about time we address the missing element that Chase has been noticing...and in the process introduce a new boy! :D Hope you enjoy reading!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was snowing for the first time that year. Chase stood in the shadow of the dragon’s bones, hat pressed to his head, and watched it fall from the sky. The snowfall wasn’t particularly thick, but the flakes were fat and clumped together. It would probably leave a respectable layer by the time it was over.

It was ten days since Chase went out on his first mission with the Phantoms, and nothing much had happened in the meantime. Jackie and the two others on the mission were alright, Elin recovering from the magical burns she’d gotten from that wizard. Apparently no other missions had gone out since then, though there were a lot of messages coming in from other locations and Phantoms who were already out. Probably the most notable thing was the approach of the winter holy days. The winter solstice was only a few weeks away, and everyone was talking about preparing the celebrations.

There was the faint sound of footsteps in the snow, and soon Henrik appeared by his side. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chase,” he said, adjusting his scarf. “I was delayed. Many people have come down with sudden cold sicknesses and I was handing out medicine.”

“It’s alright, Henrik,” Chase said understandably. “I think you should set up more fires, not just the ones for cooking. I’ve never been in a mountain house that doesn’t have a fireplace for winter.”

“Perhaps, perhaps.” Henrik nodded. “We could cut open holes in the canvas covering the storage and the skull, so that the smoke will not fill it up.”

Chase laughed a bit. “If you did that, the smoke would come out of the skull’s eyes and nostrils. Then it would really look like a dragon.”

Henrik laughed as well. “So, now then. Onto other matters. I will keep our reading lesson short today so that we can get out of the snowfall. Can I see the board you were using?”

Most of the lesson was spent refreshing and reviewing what Chase had already learned. Even though both of them had winter coats now, it was still cold standing out in the snow, and Chase’s fingers were quickly losing heat. Still, he felt like it was actually warmer than it should have been. Especially when it was snowing. Just as they were wrapping up, he decided to point this out. “You know, even though we’re high in the mountains, I feel like it’s warmer here than it would be back home. Isn’t that strange?”

“Oh, that is probably because of the skeleton.” Henrik knocked on the nearest bone. “Dragons were very magical creatures, you know. And most of their magic was fire and heat, in some form or another. Even after this dragon is long gone, its magic is still attached to its bones, and that is probably making it a bit warmer.”

“Huh. Fascinating.” Chase pressed a hand to the bone. It was cold as stone, but magic worked in strange ways, so he wasn’t going to doubt Henrik’s explanation. “For a doctor, you know a lot about how magic works.”

“Well, you have to be prepared,” Henrik said. “You could encounter injuries that were caused by any sort of magic. And witchcraft’s potions are excellent medicine.”

“Yea, but these are some intricate details. I understand Tripp and the other sorcerers here knowing about that, but you’re not a magic-wielder.” Chase shrugged.

“I keep my ear out for new things to learn. And I learned a lot from—” Henrik stopped. “From...my studies. Anyway, I think we can stop for now. You will just need to practice more, as always. It seems you’re having trouble with—”

“Why does everyone do that?” Chase blurted out.

“...do what?” Henrik asked, visibly confused.

“Practically everyone I’ve talked to has avoided speaking about something at some point or another,” Chase said. “A person, I’m guessing. I’m not one to pry, so I’ve just let it happen, but honestly it’s pretty frustrating.” His voice slowly grew in volume. “I’ve been here for half a season now. I have my own mask, I helped out last time, I’ve even done the dishes and other chores. Isn’t that enough? Am I not considered part of the group yet?! Does no one trust me?! I—” He sighed, and continued in a softer voice. “Sorry. I...It’s...frustrating, to have this happen over and over. And it...it feels...discouraging. Like I’m not really a part of everything, and nothing I do will...be good enough.”

Henrik didn’t respond for a while. Chase started to worry that he pushed too far, but then Henrik leaned in close and put a hand on his shoulder. “Chase. It is nothing to do with you, I can promise you that.” His voice was gentle, but firm underneath. “I am sorry for making you feel that way. It is just...well, it is still a sore subject for Jackie and me. But we never told anyone that they cannot talk about him. I suppose they just didn’t want to tell you in case we did not want you to know.”

“...oh.” Chase said softly. “Is it...sensitive? No, wait, you don’t have to tell me, it’s not my business—”

“No, I want to,” Henrik insisted. “Everyone else here already knows. Because they have all been here since it happened a year ago. You are the first new person we have found, so it makes sense that you are the only one who does not know.” He paused. “But I should talk with Jackie about how to tell you. It is about him, too.”

“I see.” Honestly, Chase felt relieved that it wasn’t the big secret he’d been building it up to be in his mind. It wasn’t a lack of trust, it was just personal. “I’m...sorry about all that. I guess Lukas has just been getting to me.”

Henrik scowled. “Ignore that ass. His mistrust is to a ridiculous degree.”

Chase laughed. “Hard to do that when he’s in charge of the crosses.”

“I am issuing an official decree to ignore him. Next time he does something based on suspicion, tell him I told you to ignore him.”

“Alright, I get it.” Chase laughed some more.

Henrik cracked a grin, too. “I will talk to Jackie about the matter you were worried about. We’ll tell you about it so people can stop being ridiculous about avoiding it.” He rubbed his hands together. “Whoo. Now I say we wrap this up and go somewhere warmer.”

“Great idea.” Chase brushed the snow off his hat. “We’ll be snow-covered statues if we stand out here any longer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple days passed without anything extraordinary happening. Lukas tried to put him through more bow and arrow ‘training,’ to which Chase told him that he wasn’t supposed to listen to him. Naturally, Lukas looked upset about that, but he let off. Chase thought that was strange. Why was that what got him to ease up on his suspicions? But he was quickly distracted when Holly stepped in to give him some pointers on using his hunting knife in self-defense. Today, this involved her emphasizing that a knife of this design was used for cutting, not stabbing, and helping him to practice slashing a dummy with it. Chase felt he had the technique down, but it would probably be much more difficult when faced with a moving person.

Talk of winter celebrations continued. Evidently, every faith had a holy day on the winter solstice. Chase was most familiar with the Longest Night, which celebrated winter and paid tribute to the Elder of Dark, but that wasn’t the only one. There was also the Moonlight Festival, which Henrik told him was the Celestial Sisters’ winter holy day, and the Freezing, which Nemet said was part of the Temple of the Forge. So, naturally, practically everyone at Wyvernlair was excited to celebrate. Even those that weren’t faithful were looking forward to feasts and parties.

Then one night, about three days after his last reading lesson with Henrik, Chase was passing by the skull on his way to his tent, and he heard someone call his name. “Huh?” He stopped and turned towards the call. “Oh, hello, Jackie. How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Jackie said. He had his mask off and the hood of his cloak—he still wore his waist-length red one, even though the cold might call for a longer one—pulled down. “Can you...come here for a few moments? We need to talk.”

Immediately, Chase’s nerves shot through the metaphorical roof. “Yea, of course.” He followed Jackie into the skull.

The whole place was empty, which was unusual. He hadn’t been in here that often, but there was always at least a small group of people inside. Mostly sitting at the desks or the map table. Now, there was no one. Except for Henrik. He was sitting on a chair by a small fire, enclosed by a ring of stones. The fire was placed underneath one of the skull’s eye sockets, so it wasn’t exactly in the center of the room, but it was close enough. When Jackie and Chase walked in, Henrik looked up and gestured them over. There were two more chairs by the fire.

Chase slowly sat down, trying not to appear anxious. Jackie didn’t sit, and instead merely bounced on his feet, running his fingers along the edge of his chain mail shirt. For a moment Chase was distracted by the fact that Jackie almost always wore that mail armor—they had some in storage and he’d tried a shirt on, just out of curiosity, and it was surprisingly heavy. But then he got over being impressed and returned to being nervous. “So...what did you want to talk about? Did I do something?”

“No no no, it is not that,” Henrik hurried to say. “It is just—we have decided to tell you about the subject everyone was avoiding. Do you remember that?”

“Oh. Oh!” Chase’s eyes widened a bit. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually tell me.”

“Well, of course we would.” Henrik sounded a bit surprised. “It would not be fair otherwise.”

Jackie let out a breath. “Yea.” Now that Chase wasn’t worrying about what the conversation would be, he could tell that Jackie was also nervous. Or...that wasn’t exactly the right word. Agitated, maybe.

“So, you have noticed that people are talking around something,” Henrik continued. “And you have picked up that this is a person, yes?” He waited for Chase to nod. “Yes. Well, that person...was a friend of ours.” He indicated Jackie and himself. “His name was Marvin.”

“Marvin,” Chase repeated. That wasn’t a name heard often in the mountains. It sounded coastal.

Henrik nodded. “He was the other founder. It was the three of us.”

“The other...what?” Chase asked, confused.

“The...other founder?” Henrik repeated, equally confused.

“Founder of what?”

“Of the Masked Phantoms, Chase.”

“...wait.” Things started to click into place. Why Jackie and Henrik wore masks with more colorful designs. Why they always seemed so busy. Why Henrik had been able to get Lukas to back off with such authority. Chase shot to his feet. “You two are in charge of everything?!”

“Elders, did you not know that?!” Jackie said, absolutely shocked.

“No! I didn’t! Nobody told me!” Chase shook his head in disbelief. “I thought some things were strange, but I never realized—oh elders, no wonder Lukas is so suspicious of me. I walked right up into your main camp and immediately got friendly with the leaders of the whole secret resistance.” He might have reacted the same, honestly.

Jackie threw his hands up in the air, walking away for a few paces before coming back. “Elders and Sisters, Chase.”

“What?! I’m new to this!” Chase protested. “I’ve never joined a group like this before, not a guild or a hunting band or anything. I don’t know how leadership works! And you’re all flatlanders, for all I know, this was just a regional difference.”

“So who did you think was in charge?” Henrik asked.

“I don’t know. Some far-off figure who led from the shadows. You two are just...here. Interacting with everyone regularly. Jackie went on a mission with me, what if something happened?”

“We’re not kings, Chase,” Jackie said. “We like people to know we’re working with them. And trust me, nothing would have happened to me in Skytown. It would’ve been close if you hadn’t shown up, though. We might have lost Elin. And even if something did happen to me, Schneep stayed here, so we wouldn’t have lost leadership.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” Chase muttered. “So this Marvin was also a leader? What...happened to him?”

Henrik started to say something, but Jackie interrupted. “He turned into an ass.”

“Jackie, it has been a year,” Henrik sighed.

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t a bastard about it,” Jackie muttered. “Prick.”

Henrik rubbed his temples as if a headache was starting to come on. “I am still upset, too, but you are holding this grudge for too long.”

“What happened?” Chase repeated.

Henrik and Jackie glanced at each other, and Chase got the distinct feeling they were having a silent conversation. “Actually...do you mind if we tell you the story from the beginning?” Henrik asked after a long period of silence.

“Um...is this something that would make me seem even more suspicious for getting you two to open up to me?” Chase asked.

Jackie laughed. “Only in Lukas’s eyes. A few people around know this story, but I will admit, not most of them. Nemet, Tripp, Ana. The ones who’ve been around for a while. But it’s no secret. I hear there are some exaggerated versions of the story traveling around other camps.”

Chase grinned a bit. “But...why tell me? What if I’m actually a spy, or what if I switch sides—”

“I do not believe you would do that, Chase,” Henrik said quietly. “I met you once before. You are a kind, open man, and you care for your family and others. You would not side with the King.”

Chase’s chest swelled with emotion—the sadness and worry he was used to feeling when his family was mentioned, but combined with a warm feeling, knowing that others had faith in him. He nodded, and said nothing, blinking back sudden wetness in his eyes.

“So.” Henrik took a deep breath. “Let us start from the beginning.” He paused once more, then started to talk. “To understand why the subject matter is still bothering us—or, well, bothering Jackie—so much, I think the beginning is essential. Everything started fifteen years ago. I arrived in Glasúil off a ship, and headed down the coast and a bit inland. My parents had paid for me to study under a doctor named Slaine, who lived in the town of Fíornear.”

“Wait.” Chase didn’t want to interrupt so soon, but he had to hear that again. “Fíornear? As in...Fíornear Field?”

“Ah, yes. See, you would know that place.” Henrik smiled a bit, amused. “I have no doubt you grew up hearing stories of the warriors trained on the Field. But I did not. All I knew about it was the town name, and that it was a big, important area of the kingdom. Luckily, it was very easy to get directions to the town. I was glad that I had already studied your language before coming here. But it was...difficult, still. At that point, I could understand everything when it was in writing, but many people talked too fast for me to keep up.

“Because of this, when I actually arrived in the town of Fíornear, I was very confused. I was expecting something fancier, if I must say. The whole town was—and still is—very, ah...utilitarian. The only place that fit my expectations was the small castle where the area’s noble family lived, and even that was fortified with thick walls. I could tell that this was a place where warriors lived and worked, and I was very confused. And sort of afraid, if I must say so, thinking I had accidentally wandered onto a restricted area in a foreign land.

“So I thought I would get more directions. If this was Fíornear, I would ask where Slaine lived. If it was not, I would ask how to get there. I entered the first building I saw on the edge of town. It was a tavern with a name I could not understand, but that I would later learn was the Flint and Dagger Tavern. I would also later learn that this was known as a place where troublemakers gathered. Warriors who were learning the trade at the Field, but who were too ill-tempered to mingle with the others. They had taken this tavern as their own.

“Now imagine a fourteen-year-old boy walking into this tavern. A bookish-looking boy who is carrying all his possessions in a bag with him, including all his money, and who is rather skinny and likely to blow over in a strong wind.”

“I think your past self would be insulted to hear that, Schneep,” Jackie laughed.

Henrik grinned. “No, no, trust me, I was very aware of this fact. Even more so as everyone else in the tavern was strong enough to pick me up with one hand. They were all giving me looks, and I immediately felt I was not welcome. But I thought I could hurry through. So I walk up to the tavern keeper, and before I could even say anything, he says something along the lines of ‘Get out of here, kid.’ The exact details escape me.

“Of course, as I said, I do not understand the spoken language as well, so I think I misheard him. And I say, very clumsily, ‘Excuse me, is this Fíornear?’ And I mispronounced it, too, calling it ‘fee-OHR-neer’ instead of ‘FEE-or-narr.’ And from there, a few of the patrons in the tavern started grumbling at each other, sitting at a table in the middle of the room so they are not even hidden.

“The tavern keeper says, ‘Why? Are you looking for it? Hoping to become a warrior?’ and he gives me a very mocking smile at that last part. And I say, ‘No, I am looking for a doctor named Slaine.’

“And before I can say anything else, the group who are sitting and grumbling stand up and walk over to me. All of them, older than me, taller, and quite a bit stronger. One of them said something that was like, ‘So you’re a fancy foreign boy, then?’ And I am very confused. I know he is insulting me, but I am not sure how, so I just try to ask if this is the right town once more. They all laugh, and say things that are too fast for me to understand, but I know they are still insulting me. The one who spoke before leans down, very close to me, and grabs the front of my shirt. ‘You’d better get out of this place before we throw you out,’ he says. ‘You don’t belong here.’

“At that moment, I understand that this is a mistake, and I apologize, trying to leave. But this taller, older boy is not letting go of my shirt, even though he wants me to get out. I try apologizing again, and I look around for help, but everybody is looking away. Until, all of a sudden, there is a shout of ‘Hey!’ and next thing I know, the older boy is hit in the head with a shoe. I turn in the direction it came from, and there is a tiny girl standing on top of one of the tables, holding the other shoe in the pair.”

“I was not tiny!” Jackie protested.

Henrik laughed. “You were a small twelve-year-old child, all your height came from the table.”

“Okay, alright, but I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet! And I was full of righteous anger so that makes up for it!”

“Wait, Jackie, you were the girl?” Chase clarified.

“I was,” Jackie said, turning to look at Chase. “I didn’t realize it at the time this story takes place, but I was born in a different name.”

“Oh!” Chase nodded. “You’re a man?”

“Mostly, yea.”

“I see. You look good.”

“Thank you,” Jackie grinned. “But I thought you were married.”

“Hey, don’t take it that way, I mean it as a friend.” Chase chuckled a bit. “What were you doing in this tavern?”

“Oh, I was training on the Field,” Jackie said proudly.

“Really?! At twelve?!” Chase didn’t hide his surprise. Though Fíornear Field technically trained anyone over the age of twelve to be a royal warrior, there usually weren’t students that young. “How did you convince your parents?”

“Well...I didn’t,” Jackie admitted. He finally sat down in the third chair. “See, I grew up on a farm, smack dab in the middle of the kingdom. It was boring. I had siblings, two older and three younger, and I could play with them, but I just wasn’t interested in farmwork. Mam and Dad said that I could start warrior training when I turned fifteen, but I didn’t want to wait! I’d be practically an adult by then, and it seemed so far. So I...ran away.”

“Oh, elders,” Chase gasped.

“Once I was actually receiving training, I asked the armsmaster to write a letter back to them,” Jackie said. “Because I couldn’t write yet. I didn’t want them to worry, but I wanted to be sure I had a place at the Field before that happened, so it’d be harder for them to drag me home.”

“Elders, I can’t imagine being that old and going out on my own,” Chase shook his head in disbelief.

Jackie grinned. “Well, I was a tiny fireball as a kid, fierce and stubborn. I wanted to fight villains and protect people. And as you can probably tell, one of the first times I did that was by throwing a shoe at Samuel when he was harassing Henrik.” He briefly shook his head in disgust. “That boy wasn’t worthy of that name, he was a bully in every way.”

“Let me guess...things rolled downhill quickly after the bully got hit with the shoe,” Chase said.

“Well...eventually. He certainly let go of Schneep right away. I remember shouting at him to ‘Leave him alone!’ and of course, he immediately got angry. He picked up the shoe again—which was mine, by the way, off my feet—and said, ‘I won’t be taking orders from a pipsqueak mouse like you!’ and threw it back at me. I managed to catch it, which was pretty impressive if I say so, and shouted back, ‘If I’m a mouse, you’re a brute, picking on someone half your size! Fight like a warrior!’”

“And then what happened?” Henrik prompted.

Jackie sighed. “He and all his lads charged at me.”

“Ancient elders,” Chase groaned.

“It could have gone worse!” Jackie insisted. “Apparently picking on someone so young was too much for some of the other patrons, and they all jumped in to stop them. Oh, and I leapt right off the table before any of them could get there! I...didn’t exactly land on my feet, but it didn’t hurt that much, compared to being rammed by about eight or nine sixteen-year-old warriors-in-training. You know, Samuel and half his lads got denied training before the winter. Ha! Served them right.

“Anyway, then I stood up and ran over to Schneep while the other patrons were trying to hold back those lads. I asked him if he was alright, and he said he was fine. Then I said, ‘Good, now let’s get out of here!’

“Before we could ‘get out of there,’ though, Samuel shouted, ‘Get those brats!’ and about three of his lads went to block the front entrance. So I grabbed Schneep’s hand and ran the other way, into the back halls of the tavern that connects the kitchen, and the storage, and the lavatory, and whatever else was back there, I forget. By that point, a brawl was starting, so we had a head start. I knew there’d be a back entrance to the building, but I wasn’t sure where. It was my first time going there, you know, and I’d only gone out of curiosity, not any desire to visit regularly.

“So it wasn’t long before we were lost. We took a few wrong turns, and Henrik asked me, ‘Do you know where we are going?’ and I lied and said, ‘Of course!’ But he didn’t believe me. And I could hear footsteps and shouting following us, and I knew either Samuel or one of his lads would find us soon.

“But before that can happen, I hear someone say, very quietly, ‘Excuse me?’ I jump a bit, spin around, and almost punch this tall kid who’d suddenly come out of one of the rooms. Luckily, Schneep stopped me. And the tall kid says, ‘You’re the people that got attacked back there?’ And I don’t answer right away, because I’m a bit suspicious. But this boy isn’t one of Samuel’s lads. He wasn’t built enough, if you know what I mean. Instead, he was this really tall, sort of willowy boy around Schneep’s age, wearing this fancy ring that looked like real silver with a real emerald in it. So I say ‘yea, that’s us.’ And he says, ‘Alright. I’ll help you get out.’

“This boy turns to the nearest wall and stares at it for a while, like he’s trying to read invisible words. Then he pokes his ring, and all of a sudden, the emerald in it starts glowing. I remember staring in shock as he pressed the emerald to the wall near the floor, then raised it up, around, and down. As he did, the glowing light rubbed off on the wall like chalk on a board, drawing this doorway that was round at the top. Once the doorway was done, he pressed on the wall in the middle, and it just disappeared. Instead, there was suddenly the outside, even though we should have still been in the middle of the building.

“‘You have to go through first,’ this kid says. I’m a bit suspicious, but then Schneep nods and walks right through this doorway. And now I feel responsible for him, so I follow him, and next thing I know, I’m outside the tavern, on its side. The tall kid walks through the doorway, and then it disappears. And we all just stare at each other for a while. It’s a bit awkward, but I felt like we were all connected somehow, you know? So I say, ‘I’m Jackie. Daughter of Fiona,’ because, again, I hadn’t realized my name was wrong yet. Schneep introduces himself as ‘Henrik von Schneeplestein,’ and this new kid just says, ‘I’m Marvin.’”

Chase physically started. “Marvin was a wizard?!”

“And a very talented one, too,” Henrik added. “The spell he used there was a Doorway Through Walls, and I understand it’s not usually taught to fourteen-year-olds.”

“But...” Chase shook his head a bit. “You said that wizards usually side with the King. A-and Tripp told me that was because the royal family provides their magic focuses, so how—?”

“Most focuses are temporary,” Jackie said. “They get worn out from channeling magic for so long. You might get one or two years out of them before they need to be fixed up or replaced. But there are ones that can last decades. They just...cost a hefty fee.”

“Marvin stole his,” Henrik added.

Jackie laughed a bit. “Yea. He did.” But his smile was more sad than anything. And short-lived too, as he realized he was smiling and quickly dropped it into a frown.

“So that’s how you three met,” Chase said, putting together the pieces. “So...you stayed in contact?”

“It was easy to do so,” Henrik said. “Jackie was training at the Field, I was studying with Slaine, and Marvin lived in town. We would meet up as often as possible. There were difficulties, of course, mine and Jackie’s schedules were full, and Marvin’s parents did not approve of him leaving home, so he had to sneak out.”

“We had a lot of little adventures,” Jackie said, leaning back and linking his hands behind his head. “Schneep was the brain, I was the brawn, and Marvin was the—well, he said he was the beauty, but really, he was the power, with his magic. And, uh, money, actually. You don’t get a lot of coin as a warrior-in-training or a doctor’s apprentice.”

“But I think we should skip over those,” Henrik said. “I think we may have taken too long explaining our first meeting.”

“Alright, skip to the part where you decide to form a group to rebel against the King,” Chase suggested. “When did that start? The moment he was crowned?”

“No, not at all,” Henrik said. “In fact, I was quite happy for him. Though a little shocked, to be honest. I had just finished my studies, and I felt barely ready to step out into my own. Yet he was being crowned King of an entire kingdom, and he was a year younger than me!”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Jackie sighed. “Not with the last King and Queen gone, be at peace. At least he got a year to prepare?”

“Twenty is hardly better than nineteen,” Henrik huffed. “But either way, we could not have known what was to happen.”

“What started it all?” Chase asked.

Jackie and Henrik glanced at each other. “It was about three years later, or so,” Jackie said. “At that point, I was one of the royal warriors, so I was able to notice some things. Our commands were...questionable. My captain told all of us that we ‘weren’t to hold back’ against troublemakers. There was talk of shutting down dissidence, and testing the people’s loyalty. Now, keep in mind, there hadn’t even been a whisper of rebellion before this, but this sort of talk seemed to appear overnight. And a lot of my fellows, people I had considered friends, were eating this up.”

“And then the King cut the funding for medicine and doctors,” Henrik added. “You know how most of us doctors receive supplies and salaries from the royal funds, yes?”

“Except for the travelling doctors,” Chase agreed. “They’re a separate thing. You were a town doctor once?”

“Yes, so I knew we were receiving less,” Henrik grumbled. “And now, years later, it is even less. The royal fund is not paying for supplies anymore, meaning doctors have to ask for donations so they can afford what they need.”

“And Marvin was hearing rumors about the noble houses,” Jackie said. “How they were turning on other families that weren’t loyal enough to the crown.”

“All of this was so different from what the King had been doing when first crowned.” Henrik shook his head. “And the three of us talked, and we realized that he must have been hiding his true intentions. Waiting until his position was secure, and then enforcing his rule, making sure every last person in this kingdom followed him.”

“And we had to do something about it!” Jackie shouted, standing up. “Something more! Something drastic!”

“Something that we could not do as ourselves,” Henrik said. “So, we decided to use masks, to hide who we were.”

“Little things first. But you would not believe how quickly things got out of hand.” Jackie whistled. “Something about the masks inspired something, I guess. People started following us after we went out to stop injustice, asking to join. And well, more people meant we could do more to help, so we expanded. Now here we are, five years later.”

Chase didn’t say anything for a moment. It just all seemed...so much. The Masked Phantoms was created by just three people. Two of which he was starting to consider friends. But that begged the question...why were only two of them left? “What happened to Marvin?”

Jackie took a deep breath, as if holding back a rant of words. “I know I just said our plan was to do something drastic. I just said that. But...there are...limits.” The last word came out as a growl.

“Jackie, please. Sit down,” Henrik said softly. Jackie stayed standing, so he sighed, and continued. “Our goal has always been to protect people. And so, we encourage fighting to be a last resort.”

“I’ve picked up on that, yes,” Chase said. “Holly always says you should never strike first.”

“Marvin thought we weren’t doing enough. He started to say that we should strike first. And strike...fatally.”

“How could he?!” Jackie shouted. “How could he?! The King’s warriors are just people, same as us! They have families to support, friends that would miss them! They’re following orders, and shouldn’t be blamed! Even the noble houses are under the crown! Doing what they need to! Nobody should die unless there’s no avoiding it!”

“Jackie, calm down!” Henrik snapped.

Jackie fell silent. He looked over at Chase. “One day, the three of us were talking about our plans. The long-term ones, our goals. And Marvin—he—just—so casually—like it was nothing, he said we should kill the King.”

“What?!” Chase stood up as well. “You can’t do that! The royal lineage hasn’t been broken for centuries! It goes all the way back to Samuel the Green-Eyed, it’s entwined within the land itself. You can’t end it!”

“Yes! See! This is it!” Jackie shouted. “People care about the line! They care about the legend of it! They care about our history!”

“I can see where Marvin was coming from, though,” Henrik said. “The King has abused his power for years, and people are suffering. Killing him might end it, and it would mean he would never return to try and regain his rule. But we cannot kill him right away. Not unless the people agree with that decision. And if we assassinate him now, people will definitely not agree. Half the population will immediately revolt against whatever new rule we try to establish. We must strip the King of his powers, then plan what to do.”

Chase forced himself to take a step back from the immediate indignant anger he’d felt upon hearing someone was planning to end the Glasúil line. Really, did it matter that much? Well...yes, actually. The royal family had ruled peacefully for centuries, and people loved them. Not just because of who they were, but because of what Jackie said, the history and legend. But if this King ordered villages burned down for no reason? Yes, he could see where Marvin was coming from, too.

But Henrik was right. People would be raging at the idea. His own reaction was proof of that. Killing the King now would just lead to chaos. “So you kicked Marvin out, then?”

Jackie laughed. “Oh noooo, we didn’t do that! The bastard said he was too good for us, and stormed out! What an ass!”

“To be fair, we did have...quite a large fight, leading up to that,” Henrik pointed out. “Personal insults were said.”

“Mostly between me and him,” Jackie admitted. “Schneep tried to mediate.”

Henrik laughed bitterly. “For the first minute, yes. I got caught up in it, too, do not pretend I didn’t. I would apologize, if I could.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jackie muttered. “Not unless he does first.”

“Not even for punching him?”

“Nope.”

Chase looked back and forth between the two of them. He wasn’t about to press, but he could tell that this fight had been bad. “So...he left.”

“A year ago, yes,” Henrik confirmed. “We hear about his...activities, occasionally. A wizard in a mask, acting on his own. Mostly destroying noble property and warrior forts.”

“With no regard for casualties,” Jackie added angrily. He grunted in frustration, then looked back at Chase. His voice softened. “...sorry to dump all this on you. It’s just been so long since we’ve talked about it, I guess we needed to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chase assured him. “I understand, you can’t keep your feelings buried forever.”

“Well...alright then.” Jackie let out a long breath, then leaned in and gave Chase a quick one-armed hug. “Thanks for listening.”

Henrik stood up, gave Chase a similar quick hug, then stepped back. “We have been talking for a while. We told everyone not to disturb us, but...”

“More busy leader duties?” Chase asked humorously.

Henrik gave him a wry smile. “More busy leader duties.”

“Don’t worry,” Chase said. “I understand. And really, I’m just glad that you took the time to tell me all this. You didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to,” Henrik said. “And now, when others try to avoid the subject, you can say that you already know about Marvin, so it is not a problem.”

“Do you...think you’ll ever cross paths again?”

“I hope we do,” Jackie said. “So I can punch him again.” He hit his hand in demonstration. “But...on a more serious note, I think it’s inevitable. Our goals are the same, even if our methods are different. Eventually, we’re going to have to meet him again.” He paused. “And the more time goes on, the closer that moment becomes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Southern Moors of Glasúil were not built for permanent settlements. They were wetlands, with watery soil that wasn’t fit to farm on, without gems or metals to mine, and with mud that could easily ruin books, art, and clothes. But still, people found a way to live there, using the resources native to the moors to trade for what they needed. Most of the time, people lived on boats that floated down the many rivers, migrating seasonally as certain areas got difficult to work with. But a few locations had become home to permanent towns, towns that floated in the middle of still water or had their buildings tower on stilts.

This was a town that fit into the latter category. Houses, shops, everything was on stilts that were at least twice as tall as the average man, built like that to avoid the rising waters that would come every spring.

But for now, in the winter, the waters were just thin streams that wound around the tall buildings, some of them covered in a thin layer of ice. But the biggest stream was unfrozen. And this night, under the light of the stars and the waning moon, a single rowboat was floating down this stream. A boy, probably around ten to thirteen years old, was paddling it to his destination. He kept glancing up at the stilted buildings, waiting to see someone on the wooden bridges that connected them. But it was late, and it was winter, and although the Southern Moors weren’t all frozen yet, it was still cold. So the boy paddled on.

Then, he glanced up at the wooden bridges again. And there he saw...a cat. Sitting near one of the wooden ladders leading down to the ground, its eyes reflecting the starlight as it stared at him. The boy stopped paddling, tied up the boat, and climbed out, grabbing the wooden ladder. Once on the solid wooden walkway around the building, the cat darted around him and across the bridge.

He followed the cat to the next building, a house, where it stopped and sat outside the door. Swallowing nervously, he pulled open the door.

The inside was filled with a wide array of candles, all of various colors, but mostly orange and black. They sat on every possible surface, even the floor near the walls, but only a few were lit. The layout was that of a normal one-room house, with a bed in one corner, a rocking chair in another, and a table with two chairs in the middle. And there was a man sitting in one of the chairs.

The cat darted past the boy and leapt onto the table. Its fur was mostly white, but its ears were dark gray, and its tail was striped gray and black. Its legs were similarly striped, though with brown and white, and the fur on its face had a pattern of brown stripes. It stared at the man with big blue eyes, and the man started petting it.

The man himself was...unusual. Most of his clothes were hidden by a thick black cloak, leaving just his gloved hands and his head visible. Though, that wouldn’t do much. His features were hidden by a white mask in the shape of a cat’s face. Colorful markings decorated the surface, red whiskers on the cheeks and green spirals in the ears, with the four card symbols in black in the center of the forehead. Brown chin-length hair framed the mask in waves.

“Um...” The boy hovered in the doorway.

“Close the door,” the man said, and the boy did so. “What did you find?”

The boy walked closer to the table, though he didn’t sit in the chair. “Um...well...my cousin, Ryenn, she works at Portmota Castle. Does their laundry and cleaning. And she...she says that the King has chosen them for his Longest Night celebration. H-he’s arriving soon, maybe within the week.”

“I see.” The cat hopped into the man’s lap and curled up, where he continued to pet it. “How does your cousin know this?”

“Well, they were doing preparations, cleaning things more than usual. And she asked why, and the others said that the lady was getting ready for the King’s visit. Apparently she got a letter in secret, saying that the celebration at Fíornear was a ruse and it was actually going to happen at her holding.”

“I see,” the man repeated, nodding.

The boy hesitated. “Um...can I...? The, uh...”

“Yes, of course.” The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a small leather pouch. He set it down on top of the table. It made a clinking sound as the coins inside rattled against each other.

The boy stared at it, then slowly reached down, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he snatched the pouch up, checked the inside, and saw it was filled with golden coins. His eyes widened. He looked at the man and quickly nodded. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem. I should be thanking you for what you told me.”

“Right.” The boy took a few steps back, suddenly uneasy. “Uh...” Then, without another word, he turned and scrambled out of the house. The man could hear him running all the way back to his boat.

“He shouldn’t be so scared,” the man said to himself. The cat in his lap purred and sat up, stretching. He winced. “Draco, your claws.” Of course, the cat didn’t say anything. In fact, it started kneading his legs. “Ah!” The man gasped, then sighed. “Silly boy.” He picked up the cat and set it on the floor, where it whined at him. “Sorry, but you can’t be up here. I need the space.”

The man then reached into his cloak and pulled out several things. A map, some parchment, a quill and bottle of ink, and finally, a necklace with an ornate pendant: a flat, palm-sized emerald in a thin silver frame, smooth on the front but with golden patterns inlaid on the back. The man ran a finger along the edge of the pendant, and it started to glow. He flicked the light off his fingers, and it scattered, flying to all the unlit candles and lighting them, providing more than enough light to see.

“Now, let’s get to work.” The man picked up the quill, dipped it, and wrote down a name: Portmota, the noble family the King would be visiting for the solstice. He’d heard rumors that the celebration wasn’t actually going to be at Fíornear, but this confirmed it. Now, he just had to come up with a plan. Something more subtle than his usual heads-on approach. This was too important to risk.

He’d make sure the King didn’t live to see the spring.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jackieboy man #dr schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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ka-writes · 3 years

Text

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Notes: I had already started on the second chapter before I posted the first one, so don’t expect updates every day... I also had to do a lot of googling for this chapter.

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Chapter 1 in case you missed it:

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Warnings: Cussing, needles, character conflicts, intentional poisoning, poisoning, Jaws reference

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“Humans are [and text here]”

Chapter 2: What is this, an interview?

Tommy was now restrained to a chair six feet away from the weird scientist alien. He had a dark brown lab coat with a fuzzy yellow sweater underneath, matched with black pants and black leather boots. His gold rimmed Harry Potter glasses slipped down his nose bridge a bit before he pushed it up and shuffled through papers. He wore a red beanie with a big whiff of his curly chocolate hair. His skin was a weird translucent grayish color with blue speckles decorating it. He had deep brown eyes with an odd electric blue circle outlining the pupil.

His tongue licked his finger as he turned the page. This was a habit that most of the weird teachers and counselors did. It always annoyed Tommy. This time fear was also mixed into that annoyance. His saliva was tinted blue and he had sharp teeth which immediately reminded him of a shark.

“You have shark teeth.” Tommy stated absentmindedly. Clearly, this caught the scientist alien off guard.

“I have what?” The alien asked, confused.

“Shark teeth.. ya know like the weird fish creatures that eat people.” Tommy started rambling causing the shark-alien to become even more confused and slightly alarmed. “I mean I think they eat people. That’s what the shark movie showed… what was its name, Jaws I think? I dunno, my foster mom freaked out in the middle of it and we went home. That lady was weird.. She made us wear itchy clothes and take weird photos before she sent me back to the group home.”

“What?..” The shark-alien asked. Tommy jumped a bit. He forgot he was rambling to a stranger. Alien stranger at that.

“Doesn’t matter.. What's the first question bitch-boy?” Tommy liked the way the alien jumped at the randomly timed insults.

“Er- right.. First off, what’s your name?” The shark-alien asked after collecting himself.

“Tommy Innit. Yours bitch-boy?” Tommy replied.

“Wilbur Soot. Stop calling me bitch-boy!” Wilbur huffed.

“Next question, bitch-boy!” Tommy emphasized the name, getting an even angrier expression in return. Wilbur’s weird blue circle flashed red for a second which caught Tommy off guard.

Wilbur took a shaky breath before asking the next question. “How old are you?”

“Old enough! I am a big man!” Tommy stated. Yet another thing that pissed him off.

“Age?” Wilbur asked, clearly irritated.

“18.” Wilbur raised a brow, “14.” Tommy huffed. His age should only be his business not some alien-bitch who didn’t even have his file.

“If you keep lying, I may have to get the truth serum from the back.” Wilbur half-heartedly threatened. Tommy, the big man that he is, did not get scared at that statement, only slightly unsettled which clearly showed on his face.

“Now, do you have a family?” Tommy tensed at the question. It was a touchy question and was not one that was asked often especially with his reputation.

“I am a big man. I don’t need a family to be great.” Tommy stated, happy with the answer. The alien-bitch shifted awkwardly.

“Right… What is your diet?”

“Umm.. I dunno, whatever I can find. I am allergic to nuts though..” Wilbur nodded in understanding and wrote things down in his notepad.

“What plants are poisonous to you?” Wilbur asked without looking up from his notes.

“Ermm, poison Ivy, poison oak… uh I think parts of rhubarb, and most wild berries. I am not sure other than that.” Wilbur nodded while adding bits to his notes.

“What was the place you lived like?” This time Wilbur glanced up to look at Tommy. This was again another touchy subject… How many times would this alien bitch get into the sad background?

“Shitty.” Tommy snapped. That was the only response the bitch was gonna get.

“Right.. Do you have music on Earth?”

Tommy scoffed, “Of course we have music, dumbass!”

“Can you tell me about the animals there?” Wilbur asked, almost hopeful.. which was weird. What was he hoping for?

“Erm I guess..” Tommy mumbled, trying to figure out where to start, “There’s a bunch of animals. Mainly on land. My favorite would be the cow.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity stained Wilbur’s face. This got Tommy excited; he was practically beaming as he started talking.

“Well they are these big ruminants that make milk and have horns. There are a bunch of types too like the highland cow, which obviously is the most poggers one. They are a Scottish breed with really long hair. I met one once, on a field trip his name was Henry.” Tommy rambled on for the next two and a half hours, jumping from topic to topic and explaining anything that wasn’t personal. He usually ended those paths with short insults.

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Wilbur hated to stop the kids' detailed story, but two and a half celestial hours had already passed, and Dream would be coming to check soon. Luckily, he had a couple new poisons that could pass off as a research development. He had even managed to send the distressed signal and no doubt Phil would already be there with the SBI craft ready to fly at any given moment.

“Alright Tommy.” His voice dropped to a serious tone causing the kid to stop his story of how he got poisoned by mushrooms on a camping trip. “You’re gonna have to trust me just for a bit. I am going to get you off the ship at the next stop but in the meantime I need you to tell me how allergic you’re to nuts.” The kid immediately tensed at the question.

“I am mainly allergic to tree nuts.. almonds being the worst. After a few minutes I can’t breathe properly and I usually pass out. The doctor said if I don’t get it treated within 15 minutes, death is most likely.” He took a moment to go through the information. The kid most likely has an anaphylaxis reaction to tree nuts. Meaning either he would have to know the exact time of landing and exactly where Phil was or he needed another poison that was less severe.

“Alright, here is what we’re gonna do. I have a chemical mixture that is similar to that of rattlesnake venom. I also have a chemical substance that numbs any pain you may feel. Side effects would include being very very tired and delirious over the next few days. Along with being knocked out for a good ten hours. To put it simply I am gonna fake poison you, in order to get you off the ship. It’s your choice if you’re willing to do it.” Wilbur paused to study the kid still restrained in front of him. It was odd how relaxed the kid seemed to be in a situation like this. He had no urge as far as Wilbur was aware, to fight against anything that happened. His complaints only being those that touched on personal matters. It was unsettling to say the least, and intrigued Wilbur. He really wanted to unravel the life the kid had lived before this and how he was actually dealing with the situation.

There was a long pause before the kid spoke, “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the weird smiley bitch.. plus you seem nice and to know what you’re doing so sure. Poison me bitch.” He said the last sentence with an enthusiasm Wilbur wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to rethink his plan, which was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Dream says you better have advanced in your stupid testing. Otherwise he’s gonna kick you off the ship at the next stop.” Stated the rather rude blazeling, Sapnap. The blazeling never liked Wilbur and made a point to argue against any advancements at meals. That led to Dream installing a new system of emails and Wilbur eating meals alone.

“Yea yea, it’s going!” He yelled through the metal door.

“Better be.” The blazeling snapped before making a non quiet track back to his quarters.

“Stupid blazeling.” Wilbur grumbled as he sorted through vials and picked up new needles and measured out the substances. “We are going to start with the anesthetic then move onto the poison.” He softly addressed Tommy.

Wilbur swiftly disinfected Tommy’s shoulder and gave the needle. He then gave the second needle. Immediately Tommy slumped over. Wilbur swiftly took off Tommy’s restraints and moved him on to the patient bed in the back corner of the room. After the transfer was done he clipped the body restraints around Tommy and waited for the alert signaling landing.

After about five minutes the light next to the door turned blue. He moved over to his seat and clipped on the safety belts. The light turned green and the ship shook momentarily before a thud could be felt. Quickly as Wilbur could, he emptied the needles into the waste bin and waited for his soon-to-be-ex-boss to arrive.

Dream stepped through the door and glanced around the room before heading to Wilbur for his report.

“Report.” The dreamon commanded.

“The subject's body would have gone through a painfully slow death and have multiple organ failures if I did not intervene. The chemical mixes used created a conflict in the patient’s body which resulted in the patient falling into exhaustion as they recovered.” He responded in a monotone tone. Dream looked over Tommy. He flinched back in disgust as Tommy grunted in his sleep.

“Is that all?” The dreamon questioned.

“No.” Wilbur swallowed down his panic, “This is the last testing I will be doing with this crew.” The dreamon scoffed.

“I am assuming you’re getting off at this planet?” Dream spit. Wilbur knew he absolutely hated when people left his crew as he saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

“Yes.” The phantom stated, keeping his even tone apparent. With that Dream stormed out cursing in Siestian. Somewhere in the mess of words he told Wilbur to get his things.

Without hesitation he grabbed his bag from his quarters, which was held in a small room that branches off the lab. He half sprinted down the short hallway and straight to the bed Tommy was on. He swiftly unrestrained the human and sat him up. He slipped on boots and gloves then tied a cloak around the kid. He pulled the hood up and carried him off of the closest exit. There were faint yells from Dream down the hallway and reassurances from the only two beings that put up with him. And with that Wilbur was off to find the only craft he had ever called home. The SBI ship.

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Chapter 2- End

Words~ 1774

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End Notes: ‘‘twas to lazy to reread... sorry for minor mistakes. Also suggestions are always appreciated!! Please reblog...

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Chapter 3:

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Wilbur:

#my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #sapnap #dream mcyt #tommy mcyt #dream smp fanfiction #space au

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definitelynotadeathclaw13 · 3 years

Text

A Different Friend

@lotuskissed

Brian walked up the road under the starlit sky, the cold of the Mojave night not really bothering him due to his thick skin and massive robes. The night sky was pretty, what with all the little dots up there with the great big shiny circle. The ceilings in the base had never been as pretty or as interesting. They also were a lot closer than the sky was. Why, Brian had never bumped his head against the sky! Not even once!

He was taken out of his admiration for celestial objects when he heard a loud BANG shatter the evening’s tranquility. He was right near Goodsprings, he noticed; he’d been here before. Nice town. They’d been understanding of his size and not a single one of them ever tried to look under his hood. Even their doctor was nice, and he was a doctor! Brian hadn’t even thought that was possible before coming here the first time!

He noticed a trio of men walk down from the graveyard, one of them putting one of those “gun” things back into his shirt. Brian felt his stomach lurch as he smelled the blood on the wind, and he hurried past the trio as they walked the other way down the road. He just barely noticed they seemed to be in a hurry; they probably didn’t want to have any more delays from...whatever they were doing.

When he got up to the graveyard, he saw one of the graves was freshly dug, with blood splattered across the ground next to it. Brian hurriedly dug the grave back up. He didn’t know who was in here or why they’d been shot, but Brian didn’t like seeing people hurt if he didn’t know they’d deserved it. If he could help this person, whoever they were, then that’s what he’d do. He was a good boy, and good boys don’t leave people to die.

The victim was a girl, and a quick glance showed she was still alive. Her breath was weak and getting weaker, and she was losing a lot of blood, but she was still very much not dead yet. Brian picked her up, taking great care not to cut or crush her tiny, frail human body in his claws, and ran back to Goodsprings proper. Quickly making his way to Mitchell’s house (he was too darn nice for Brian to call him the D word), the frazzled deathclaw gave the wooden door a quick headbutt. “Mitchell! Mitchell! I need help!” When the door opened, the good medical man didn’t even have time to say hello before Brian showed him the injured girl. “She is hurt! Please fix her!”

Mitchell was many things, and “professional” was thankfully one of them. Now fully awake thanks to the sudden crisis on his hands, he directed Brian to put the new patient on one of the beds. Brian gently did so before walking over and sitting down against the opposite wall, doing his best to stay out of the way as he watched the operation. He couldn’t leave until he was sure she’d be alright. Maybe it was weird that he was so frantic over a total stranger, but he couldn’t help it. He just hated people getting hurt, and he couldn’t live with the thought of being able to do something to help and then just...not.

The operation seemed to last forever and five years. The days after it ended without her waking seemed even longer. But at last, roughly 4 days after the incident, he heard Mitchell say “You’re awake! How about that? Whoa, easy there, easy! You’ve been out cold for a couple of days now. Why don’t you just relax a second? Get your bearings. Let’s see what the damage is.”

#lotuskissed #deathclaw brian #ramona antonia d'angelo #courier ramona #fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout rp #i saw that you wanted us to trim our posts #but i'm not sure how long is too long #let me know if this was alright #hope to have fun rping with you!#a different friend #rp

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desticuleconfessions · 4 years

Note

hey desticule. so i have a supernatural-themed girl best friends story that i’ve wanted to share for a long time, especially because none of my irl friends ever rly understood the gravity of this experience w/o the context of spn. there’s a lot of fun parallels to stuff on the show, and its given me like years of brain rot and therapy lmao. so i really deeply appreciate this page as an outlet, thank you so much to the mods for making it. anyways uh. here goes. sorry it’s so long.

[tw: queer trauma, religious trauma, mental illness]

okay so. in 3rd grade i met this girl. we'll call her kate. we became best friends, as in our names were never spoken separately, we did (and won) every science fair together, she came skiing with my family every winter, i stayed with her family at their beach house in the summers, our younger siblings were friends, etc.

our birthdays were exactly 6 months apart (jan 22/jul 22) so we literally believed that we were celestially intertwined.

we wrote a novel together in 8th grade. her family is baptist, we attended massachusetts catholic schools. i would go to church with her family when i slept over, i held hands and said grace with them at meals. they are all tall and blonde and beautiful. classically angelic. i am south asian. i remember introducing her to harry potter in the 4th grade, her mother hadn't let her read em because it was "blasphemous", but i snuck her my copies and she would read them during lunch n recess and keep them in my locker. sorry this seems like a lot of unnecessary detail but it will be important later.

anyways we both got into doctor who and subsequentally supernatural (s1-8?9 at the time). i specifically remember getting her into supernatural. i also remember her instinctive disdain for destiel when i talked about it, i was showing her a meta or fanfic i think, and i talked her through undoing some of her christian household’s internalized homophobia (fully assuming we were both straight at this point) (we were fucking 12). we'd do the whole "bitch" "jerk" thing, i (the older one) affectionately called her 'sammy', her phone password was dean, mine was cas (and they still are). on my 13th birthday, she gifted me a samulet, which i still wear to this day. (additionally, she gave me a vonnegut 'so it goes' necklace one year) (thats not vital but) (goes to show the extent of my dean coding) (im also an aquarius lmao). im highly protective of her. i carry extra rubber bands on my wrist for her. i keep our money and phones in my jacket when the school takes us skiing. i sit next to her in the halls during lunch and organize her binder. on an 8th grade field trip, a boy made a gross comment at her and i broke his nose.

so we start high school together at coed catholic school nearby, i join debate, make a friend also into spn, she's bi. she asks kate out over text. kate's mom sees this. things turn.

now the rest of these things happened over the course of a couple months and due to my trauma memory loss, i have no idea how accurate some of these memories are so uh. don't hold me to them.

- her highly religious mother is not happy with this obviously. at some point, she brings a priest home and tries to have kate exorcised.

- at this point, we learn that kate is schizophrenic; it never seemed to create noticeable issues before bc her home life and childhood was a perfect happy dream (not an assumption, her words).

- she's still coming to school, sporadically now, i bring home her work, spend hours helping her.

- when she comes to school, she has seizures: sometimes we're fortunate enough that they happen in a class we have together. she freezes up and the teacher empties the room. i refuse to leave. i hold her hand and softly sing her favorite song and sometimes she comes back to me. sometimes she doesn’t and the bell rings and the teacher forces me to leave and let the nurse handle it.

- another time they announce a medical lockdown (to keep ppl out of the hallway if someone is being escorted to an ambulance) while im in catholicism class, i immediately know it’s her; she fainted in the pool during swim team practice.

- i stay awake for 6 days straight bc i read online that sleep deprivation induces some of the same symptoms as schizophrenia and if i could understand what she was going through, i could help her

- she shows up at my house w both of her parents 15 minutes before the winter ball, begs me to go bc her parents will only let her if i go. so i do. her mom lurks by the gym doors with the chaperones. during a slow song, kate and debate girl start to slow dance, i grab our friend’s hand, drag him in front of them so her mom can’t see and make out with him.

- i wanted to tell her to stop but i was too afraid i would lose us, that it would seem like i was homophobic or i was jealous, but i knew her in my marrow and it didn’t seem like she was in love or into the relationship, it was willful self destruction

- we talked in the last few years, she confirmed this.

- at some point, she says she’s sorry she didn’t tell me about the voices before.

- when we talk, she’s not her anymore, she doesn’t remember our inside jokes, our codes, i can feel her being slowly ripped away and apart in real time

- i have a vivid memory of arguing with her and her telling me im not real, that her mind made me up, while occasionally speaking to something? someone? else in the room. i hold her hand and point to the matching thin scars on our thumbs and try to convince her im real.

- she eventually drops out entirely, taken to some mental facility that im not entirely sure wasnt conversion therapy (it was definitely a religious facility) (and conversion therapy was not outlawed in new hampshire until 2019) and im not allowed to see her.

- every now and then i get cryptic distressing emails or texts from her.

- one in particular has the subject, “youandiwalkafragilelineihaveknownitallthistimebutineverthoughtidlivetoseeitbreak” which is the first line of the song ‘haunted’ by taylor swift (our shared favorite)(the summer after this happened we collectively decided we needed a new swift Our Song and chose ‘breathe’). the body of the email read “what the hell have i done”

- i pray for the first time in my life, every single day for a few months, in different languages, at temple with my parents, in the chapel at school

- on a club trip, i get a call at 2am from her, crying, asking me why i didn’t help her, why i didn’t stop her, that it was my job to protect her

here’s something i wrote about her, three yrs after:

I wasn’t careful enough and she caught quickly. She burned so close and so bright that for long afterwards, I could not see. And like that, she was gone. I walked into the chapel. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

[that last line is from the latin version for a catholic prayer called the act of contrition, it translates to “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault”]

in the fall, i hear she’s starting at a small baptist school almost an hour from her house. she is dating the principal’s son. the principal is also her pastor.

in my second year of college, i have a bad acid trip in a snowy park in december. i put my hands into the snow and when i look at them,i see blood. i see her body in the snow adorned like it’s a funeral

i still have dreams about her. sometimes i meet her in a grassy field, flying kites and i invite her to my wedding. in others, i catch a glimpse of her ponytail and catholic school skirt and chase her up eight flights of stairs and when i grab her hand, she turns to ash.

at some point in a separate argument w my parents in which they went through my texts and found out i wasn’t straight (amongst other things) my dad says:“i knew i should’ve listened to [kate’s dad] when he told me the things you would talk about. he knew what you are. and he took his daughter away from you.”

last christmas we met up and drove around together, she tells me that for years she thought i hated her for letting me down and for abandoning me, and i literally have the dean winchester in ‘sacrifice’ five stages of grief when sam says “you know what i confessed in there?” because i could not even begin to fathom that she ever blamed herself. it had always been my fault. i had failed to save her. i corrupted her and i failed to save her.

anyways she’s fine now, she’s okay, im okay, we’ve talked and unpacked and we’re alright. but uh. yeah. that happened. the parallels make me crazy. now they can make you crazy too.

‎

#tw: queer trauma #tw: religious trauma #tw: mental illness #wow #that is ... a lot #i'm glad both you and she are okay #mod cas #confessions #desticuleconfessions

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

Dreams Of Routine

Dust.

It was everywhere. Around him, on his hands, and in him with every breath he took.

It was a nightmare Tony had often and had him waking in the middle of the night and staring up at the ceiling as he got his thundering heart to slow down. When it finally did, that's when he braved looking around the bedroom. Sometimes he didn't have to look to know that Stephen was sleeping beside him because Tony would hear him breathing first. One usually had to strain to hear it but Tony was accustomed to the soft breaths his spouse took while he slept. The next thing he did was look past Stephen's side of the bed and find the crib against the wall with their infant daughter sleeping soundly in it.

One kid accounted for. Now for the other six. Tony turns toward his nightstand and grabs the tablet laying on the surface and mutters to Friday to bring up the 'Baby Monitors'. Six separate camera views popped up silently and Tony sighs quietly when the other six kids are shown sleeping in their beds. Tony's nightmare of watching Stephen and Peter turn to dust in front of him was constant enough that he needed a better way to check on the kids without getting up and wandering the tower to look in on every single one of them.

Harley, Peter, Diana...all asleep down the hall. Cassie was safe in her room downstairs, and so were Thomas and William. The kids knew about the cameras and Tony made sure to tell them they were specifically for moments like these. If they were getting dressed or otherwise...occupied, Friday would inform him they were safe but keep the video off. It was an electronic version of Quill's Celestial gaze, but for all the kids. Tony of course included Cassie because he had raised her for those five years and she turned into an honorary kid that he very much wanted safe just as much as his actual kids.

With another shaky sigh of relief, Tony turns off the tablet and places it back on the nightstand before turning back over and wrapping an arm around Stephen. He pulls the sorcerer close and buries his nose into dark hair, smelling a light trace of…flowers? What the hell was Stephen washing his hair with? Tony wasn't complaining, it smelt nice, but he definitely wasn't expecting flowers.

"Nightmare?" Stephen mumbles sleepily and Tony grunts in response. "Need to cuddle Athena?"

Tony chuckles. "No. Just you. I don't think she'll be real happy cuddling me anyway."

Stephen merely chuckles quietly and Tony falls asleep a little while after the sorcerer dozes off. Hearing him breathe was soothing to his nightmare frayed nerves and it was enough to lull him into a thankfully dreamless sleep. When he awoke again, sunlight was streaming through the windows that he cleverly made so that it would dim the otherwise blinding morning sunlight. Tony also woke to Stephen exiting their bathroom fully dressed for the day and walking over to Valerie's crib. The infant was rubbing her eyes as she yawned cutely, waiting patiently for Stephen to retrieve her for their morning routine.

It still amazed Tony how quiet Valerie was. She hardly cried, and whenever she did, it was for one of two reasons. Either Stephen was off for some Sorcerer Supreme duty or a stranger made her extremely uncomfortable and she wasn't with anyone she trusted. The second very rarely happened. She didn't even cry when she was sick or if she fell and scraped her knee.

Her not crying when she was sick had it's pros and cons, and right now it was a con, because just as Stephen made it over to her crib, Valerie let out a bark like cough that had Tony sitting up in worry. Worry fills Stephen's eyes as he immediately scoops her up and places a shaky hand against her forehead to check her temperature.

"Victor, scan for her temperature and any other abnormalities." The sorcerer commands immediately as Tony gets out of bed to join him.

"She's showing symptoms of croup Doctor. I recommend running a hot shower and standing in the bathroom for her cough." The AI responds.

Stephen rolls his eyes. "I know how to treat croup Victor, but thank you anyway."

"Povero topolina." Tony mumbles as he gently brushes Valerie's hair away from her face. "I wonder how she got it."

"Likely the park." Stephen says as Valerie lays her head against his collarbone and coughs again. "William put her in one of the swings. I thought I had made sure she was washed up afterwards."

"She'll be okay. Her mommy is the best doctor in the world." Tony smiles and kisses Stephen's cheek.

"I was a neurosurgeon Tony, not a pediatrician."

"Oh please, you could be a pediatrician. I've seen you studying every available text in child healthcare because we have six kids and you want to be able to take care of them whenever they get sick. You're already listed as their doctor." Tony scoffs and Stephen blushes.

"You know, I still think Peter's teacher thinks I'm a joke."

"He won't go against any of your notes anymore because he knows I'll sue him if he does. Are you staying up here with her?" Tony asks as he walks over to the bedroom door.

"I'll have to until at least her fever breaks or she can give it to the other kids." Stephen says as he walks over to the bed and sits down. "We'll watch a movie and I'll take her into the bathroom if I need to."

"Breakfast in bed it is." The engineer says as he leaves the room and walks down to the kitchen.

To his surprise, he found Bucky cooking breakfast, and the twins munching on some strawberries at the breakfast counter as they watched.

"What are you two doing up so early?" Tony asks as he heads straight for the coffee machine behind the soldier.

"Just one of those days." Thomas shrugs. "Where's Mom?"

"Upstairs with the baby. Val is sick." He answers as he sets the coffee up and presses the button to start brewing it.

William frowns. "Should I go help?"

"Nope. The baby has croup and Stephen doesn't want anyone else to get it. If you want to help, you can sanitize everything." Tony answers quickly and William actually nods before getting up.

Even Thomas followed. William was always happy to help with Val and bonded with her like Cassie had with Diana, so seeing him get up to sanitize Valerie's toys wasn't a surprise. Thomas on the other hand wasn't as close to the girls, but he probably wanted to help in some way too. Tony watched briefly as they grabbed the things they needed and then cleaned every perceivable thing that the baby could have touched while being careful not to touch themselves until they washed their hands. With William's magic and Thomas's speed, it was done within ten minutes and the boys were washed up by the time Tony was pouring coffee into his mug.

"Want me to put something aside for Mama Bear?" Bucky asks and Tony nods.

"Would you? I did promise him breakfast in bed. Why are you up here anyway?"

"Steve is still on that recovery mission. It got a little too quiet." Bucky says quietly.

"There will be plenty of noise up here soon. Crash on the couch until Capsicle gets home if you want." Tony offers.

"Yeah. Thanks Tony."

The next couple of days passed that way. Tony kept the kids downstairs, and Stephen stayed upstairs with Valerie until her fever broke. The first night had been the worst. The baby woke up multiple times coughing and Stephen got up more than half the time to take her into the bathroom and start a shower so he could stand in the steam with Valerie to help with her cough. Tony took over after the third time because Stephen actually groaned the fourth time Valerie woke up with a whimper and another barking cough. He was exhausted, and thankfully the baby didn't mind being taken care of by her father.

The second night, she only woke up a couple of times and Athena stood with both Stephen and Tony dutifully when they cared for her. The wolf, like Levi, had taken it upon herself to be a self appointed nanny much to the parent's amusement. Levi blanketed a sick child, and Athena alerted Stephen if one of the kids fell ill. The sorcerer already had a sixth sense about that kind of thing, but ever since Athena joined the family, not a single kid (or adult) could get away with lying about their health.

Valerie's fever broke the second day and her cough was nearly gone by the third day when Stephen deemed her well enough to rejoin the family. She was back to her early morning routine with Stephen and Athena, and was eating some cereal puffs in her highchair while Stephen prepared breakfast for not only the wolf but also Flynn. Getting the fox to leave Quill's side long enough to take advantage of the portal to the lake house (for business) had been a chore the first couple of weeks. Athena eventually had to scruff the kit and carry him through to the lake house, teach him what it meant, and then scruff him again to take him back through the portal to the tower for breakfast. Flynn cried and struggled in the wolf's grip the first few days, but when he realized food was part of the deal and that Athena would promptly return him to Quill after breakfast, he stopped fighting.

Now he just chirped sleepily and hung half asleep when Athena scruffed him for the morning routine. When breakfast was devoured, he was either scruffed or walked back to Scott and Quill's floor.

"'thena?" Valerie asks as Stephen sets both bowls on the ground for the animals when they returned. The small portal sitting open by the entryway.

"And Flynn." Stephen says as he washes his hands and starts on a proper breakfast for Valerie.

The baby giggles when Flynn scrambles through the portal to his bowl, practically burying his face in it to eat as Athena came through at a much calmer pace and Stephen closed the portal with a flick of his wrist. She joined Flynn to eat and as soon as they finished, Stephen watched her lead the kit to the door to the stairs and open it with a button Tony had installed for her.

Athena liked to patrol the tower occasionally when the kids weren't all in one area, and it especially came in handy when Flynn glued himself to Quill and came home with him.

"Please tell me you have some coffee going." Quill groans the second he steps off the elevator, dressed in his station outfit.

Stephen wrinkles his nose. "You smell like smoke."

"Gee, wonder why." He snarks as Stephen starts the coffee maker.

"Your leech just went back upstairs."

"Eh, he'll find me." The Celestial sighs as he sits at the breakfast counter. "It'll be a nice two minutes not having him attached to my leg."

Stephen snorted and gave Valerie a bowl of baby cereal and a spoon to feed herself as he started breakfast for everyone else, and true to Quill's estimation, Flynn and Athena came back a couple minutes later. The kit yipped loudly and ran over to Quill, only hesitating briefly when he smelt smoke on the god before jumping up and climbing onto his lap to nuzzle Quill affectionately and obnoxiously.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey buddy. Missed you too. Lay down." Quill grouses and Flynn immediately curls up in his lap.

"At least he's listening more." Stephen observes as Athena lays at her usual place at the end of the counter.

"He's still got a ways to go."

"He'll get there."

"He'll be a little terror the entire time." Quill laughs. "No doubt afterwards too."

"The pet truly reflects the owner." Stephen smirks.

"Hey!"

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #antlord #peter quill #william kaplan #thomas shepherd #athena the wolf #flynn the fox #valerie stark strange (oc)#mama bear au #bucky barnes

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grimcorvis · 4 years

Text

Sins Locked Away- The Wedding

Part 1 of 3

(Aw ye we did it! Angst time! Phoenix and I finished it and now it’s time to share it!)

Characters: Grim Corvis Abaddon Payne Reaper the Hellhound Abigail Payne Joseph Payne Alistair the Angel Raphael the Archangel Ezzel the Succubus Daemonera the Harpy Orcus, Demon of Greed Koban the Oni Satan (duh) Cicely the Plague Doctor

(HUGE thank you to @phoenixvitae for cowriting it with me and thank you to @sassinapaperbag for letting us use their Satan design and plague doctor!)

The Wedding

The day had arrived. It was the biggest moment of both of their lives, and it would change them forever. This would be a historic moment for a demon and Death……for it was their wedding. Grim could hardly contain himself as he dressed in his tuxedo, hair wrapped in its braid. His palms were shaky and sweaty as he tried to put on his bowtie, and he fumbled with the silky fabric. He couldn’t see his soon-to-be-husband until he walked down the aisle to meet him at the podium, and he was extremely antsy. A knock sounded and a blue-skinned demon walked in, silver hair tied in a bun and long horns adorned with gold cuffs.

“Grim, you’re trembling.” Koban the Oni shook his head at the Reaper, walking over to assist his friend. “You need to relax, this is a big day for you. You should be proud! And yet you behave as if this is more terrifying than the pits of Tartarus.”

“It’s more anxiety and excitement rather than fear.” Grim sighed, letting Koban tie his bow for him. “It’s my first wedding in all my 6019 years of existence. I’m finally going to spend eternity with the one I truly love. What if I freeze up and screw up my vows? What if I drop the ring and lose it?! What if-” He started to panic, but Koban placed a hand on his shoulder.

“My friend, you will be fine. Besides- Raphael, Alistair, myself, and Orcus will be nearby to help you out if you need it.” He assured Grim and Death sighed, nodding. He hoped everything would be fine. Hopefully, Abaddon was having a better time on his end, this was nerve-wracking already!

As it turns out, Abaddon was hyperventilating as he was putting on his dress. “I’m not ready for this! What was I thinking?! We’ve known each other, what, a few months and we’re already getting married?!”

"Abaddon Jeffery Payne, would you hold still for a minute?" Abigail sighed heavily and tried to help him put his dress on, his veil resting on a chair. "Relax, dear. You've been planning this and waiting for this for a while. If you wanted to wait, then that would just make the anxiety worse." She came to his front and cupped his cheek. "Besides, what better day than today- your birthday."

Abaddon took a few deep breaths, finally calming down after hours of severe anxiety. “You’re right. Then again you’re always right, aren’t you?”

Abigail smiled and winked at her son. "That's why I'm your mother. Now, let's get your tail under the skirt- and hold still for me this time." She started to fix up his skirt as Ezzel peeked in the room.

"OooOooOooo, so elegant~! And the groom is looking the same way!" Ezzel giggled and took a picture with her phone. "People are starting to file into the Garden, and your angel and demon friends will show up any minute. Koban's already helping Grim."

“Seems like everything is going perfectly. Thanks for helping out, Mom. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Abaddon embraced his mother, something that wasn’t even possible before he met Grim. So much had changed in his life, and all of it for the better.

His mother hugged back, careful not to wrinkle the dress or smudge any makeup. "You're ever so welcome honey." She smiled and looked at the time. "Now, you wait in here for a bit and don't sneak off. I need to see if everything is set up. Ezzel dear, come help me a moment."

Ezzel nodded, following Abigail out of the doorway. The door closed, but not before a certain Hellpuppy snuck his way through. "Papa!! Papa, there's so many people and so much excitement! I'm so happy for you and Daddy!!" A pillow was strapped to Reaper's back, small enough to not be cumbersome, and with an indent for two rings to be placed.

“Oh my celestial being, you are SO CUTE!!!” Abaddon picked up Reaper into his arms, squishing his face and petting him furiously. “Who gave you the right to be this adorable?!”

“Noooooo stahp it! Heeheehee!” Reaper giggled as he was loved on and smooshed by his pseudo-dad. “I gave myself the right, Papa!” He licked his nose and squirmed to get down. “You look so pretty! You look pretty and Daddy looks handsome! I can’t wait for you to see him! When are you gonna go and kiss him, Papa? Is it soon?” There was so much excitement and Reaper was literally vibrating with it.

Abaddon laughed at Reaper’s enthusiasm, happy to have him in his life. “I’ve completely lost track of time. I don’t know how much time we have before we’re supposed to start.”

"From what Grandma and her ex Grandpa said, pretty soon. I need to go and get the rings, and then Grandma said she'll come and get you to walk you down the aisle. I just wanted to say hi." Reaper smiled and wagged his tail. "Oh- and Daddy said he has the perfect song for your walk."

Abaddon made a curious expression. “He’s not going with the classic?” His curiosity slowly turned into excitement. “Can’t wait to hear it!”

The little pup giggled and nodded. "I gotta go, Papa. But I'll see you out there!" He nudged the door open and trotted out of the room, leaving Abaddon alone. It wouldn't be much longer now, the voices of people could be heard and seen from outside the window. This was gonna be big.

Grim paced in his secluded room, waiting until they were called out to the graveyard. He wanted to see Abaddon so bad, he was so anxious and excited all at once. He bit his lip and took a breath, creeping out into the hall. He gently knocked on Abaddon's door, smiling. "Hey, babe. Are you doing okay in there?" He asked softly, staying outside the room. He wasn't looking in the room at Abaddon, this was avoiding the bad luck, right?

The sudden knock startled Abaddon for a second, but the sound of Grim’s voice immediately soothed him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… nervous as all purgatory.”

"You and me both, sweetheart." Grim laughed softly, leaning against the door frame. "I can see that everyone is almost here, even our acting troupe is here." He placed his hand on the door and smiled. "I bet you look so beautiful. I wish I could see you right now…"

“I do too, but it’s bad luck to see the bride, or in this case the one in the dress, before the wedding.” Abaddon placed his hand on the door as well, not knowing that Grim was doing the same.

"Do you think that...I could at least hold your hand? I won't look at your hand, but- holding it might help my nerves." He suggested, his hand matching Abaddon's on the other side. "It might make you feel better too. Considering I can tell that we're both nervous as all Heaven."

Abaddon cracked a smile. “Seems like I’m starting to rub off on you. You’re speaking in hell slang.” He chuckled to himself, opening the door a crack and offering his hand.

True to his word, Grim didn't look at his hand. He grabbed it and entwined his fingers together, feeling a little more relieved. "How's this? Do you feel a little better?" His hand felt so warm, yet it trembled slightly with excitement. He could feel his heartbeat and Abaddon's through their touch.

Abaddon took a deep breath, feeling the slight chill of Grim’s skin course through him. “Yeah, much better. Thanks.” He closed his eyes, standing there for what felt like an eternity.

“You’re welcome, mi amor. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to call you my husband.” Grim sighed, squeezing his hand. He was snapped out of the quiet moment when Alistair called up the steps. “GRIM! Everything’s almost ready, go get your butt out there! You need to get into position!” “Ah- coming!” He turned his head back to the door. “I have to go. I’ll see you out there, darling.”

Abaddon had returned to the mirror, not noticing that the door had swung open wider behind him. Nonchalantly he replied, “Til Death do us part, my love~” He continued touching up his makeup, the mirror just out of the way of reflecting the wide-open door and Grim’s shocked face in it.

Grim froze for a moment, unable to tear his gaze away from the demon in the room. He- he had seen him. In the dress. He wasn’t able to finish his thoughts as Alistair grabbed his hand, pulling him from the doorway. “What are you staring at? Come on! You’re gonna be late!” The angel tugged him out of the house and across the street to the graveyard.

It wasn’t even a few minutes later that Abigail knocked on the doorframe of Abaddon’s room. “Dear? It’s time. Are you ready?” She asked and picked up his veil and bouquet, holding them out to him. The flowers were fire lilies, beautiful orange flowers like the one Grim placed in his hair the day they became a couple.

Abaddon took a deep breath, turning to his mother in the open doorway. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He placed the veil on his head, taking one last look at himself in the mirror. “You know, I honestly never thought this day would come. Especially not 450 years ago.”

“And now that day is here. And I’m so glad I can be here for it.” Abigail started getting teary-eyed already. She dabbed her eyes a bit with a tissue and took her son’s hand. “Come, everyone is waiting for the bride. Can’t keep your new husband waiting.” She guided Abaddon out of the house and across the street. Cars were lined on the sidewalk for almost a mile, it seemed like everyone was here and then some. She paused outside of the gate, where Ezzel and Daemonera stood waiting. “This is it. Deep breath honey, and happy birthday my sweet boy.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Abaddon pulled her in for a quick embrace, not realizing until now how much he used to wish that she could be at his wedding when he was young. Tears started to form in his eyes as he quickly pulled away, not wanting to get too emotional yet.

Ezzel smiled at her demon brother and entered the Garden, Daemonera following behind. The music started up when it was Abaddon’s turn, and Reaper was right about it not being the traditional wedding theme. It was soft piano music, ‘Everything Stays’ floating through the air. The crowd of people faced the gate smiling and teary-eyed. At the very end, standing in front of Abaddon’s father at the altar, was Grim. Standing in a tux, just like in his dream, and his silver eyes were watery with joy.

Abaddon burst into tears as well, his literal dreams coming true before him. He walked down the aisle, trying his best to keep his composure as best he could. Reaper was right in front of him, both carrying the rings and spreading flower petals on the ground from a basket tied to his neck. The hellhound occasionally looking back was the only thing keeping Abaddon from breaking down in the middle of the aisle.

Reaper shook the last of the flower petals from the basket as he reached the end of the aisle, trotting over to stand by the girls. Ezzel and Daemonera on one side, Raphael and Alistair on the other side by Grim. It was perfect. Grim held out his hand as Abaddon joined him and Abigail sat in the front row as she gave her son to the Grimm Reaper.

Grim gently lifted Abaddon's veil from his face, a happy tear escaping those captivating silver eyes. "You look beautiful…" He whispered and held his hand, using his other to wipe away the stray tear. Even though he saw him in the dress beforehand, he couldn't get over how amazing he looked.

Abaddon leaned into Grim’s hand, a smile forming on his face. “Thanks. You look amazing too.” The tears had finally stopped running down his face as he stared at the man that would soon be his husband. He whispered to Grim, “Ready for the best day of our lives?”

"Ready as ever." Grim nodded and stared back. He wanted to keep staring, but they had to break away and face Joseph, Abaddon's father, and the man uniting them. He cleared his throat and began. "Dearly beloved. We are gathered here on this wonderful day..to celebrate the union of Abaddon Jeffery Payne-" Joseph gestured to his son. "-and Grim Azrael Corvis." He then did the same to the Reaper. "This wedding doesn't just symbolize their love- it symbolizes a special bond. A bond that runs deep in their hearts, one that all of us wish to someday achieve."

All the humans in the crowd seemed confused by those names but quickly returned to watching the ceremony. Hopefully, they all assumed they were just using stage names until now.

Abaddon leaned closer to Grim, listening to his father’s words. Centuries ago something like this would have never happened between them. Now they were both demons and have changed for the better. Funny how things work out like that.

Joseph went on for a few minutes about love and marriage and yada yada all that boring stuff, and then it was time for them to say their vows. "Abaddon. Grim. You may now speak your vows to each other. Say them openly-" He smiled and spoke quieter to them. "-and do your best." Joseph stood up straight and nodded for them to go ahead.

Grim mustered up the courage to go first, taking a deep breath and holding Abaddon’s hands. “Abby. The time that we’ve been together has...it’s honestly been the happiest time of my life. When I’m down or upset or worried, you know how to make me feel so much better. You never cease to make me smile and laugh. You’re so perfect- none of the others I’ve dated before can even compare. I love you, and I always will no matter what happens.”

Abaddon had to fight back tears as his turn came up. “Grim, I can honestly say that I never expected any of this to happen. All my life I thought I’d be alone and miserable, corrupting souls for all eternity. But, you showed me that life doesn’t have to be about pleasing other people. You showed me how to be… free.” He started to choke on his words, emotion getting the best of him. “I-I promise to always love you and to be there for you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Their words brought the crowd to tears and sniffles. It was so moving, even Reaper was whimpering with how precious his dads were being. Joseph wiped a tear away as he cleared his throat. “If anyone has cause to object to the forming of their union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I, in fact, object.” Rang out a rather smug, yet somehow still pissed off voice, in the far back of the clearing.

#grim corvis #grim the reaper #abaddon payne #abaddon #angst #angst writing #wedding angst #i was very tempted to call this the Red Wedding #but idk how many people would get the GOT reference :/#enjoy part one!#two more to go!

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scarpool-gmk · 3 years

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Epilogue

Title: Godly Marine: Killed Author: Scarpool Fandom(s): NCIS, Percy Jackson & the Olympians Pairing(s): Gen Rating: PG/K+ Summary: Epilogue (13/13) — Staff Sergeant Michael Kahale, Marine Corps Mechanic and Son of Athena, was murdered. Annabeth Chase is determined to find out who did it and why. She, along with Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood, and Clarisse La Rue, infiltrate NCIS where they team up with NCIS Agents Leroy Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, and Ziva David. Complete Genre: Fanfiction, Mystery, Drama, Humour, General, Action Warnings: N/A

Abby searched around the smokey room. This was one of her favorite places to find all sorts of bits and bobs. It's where she found that epic wolf skull, the gorgeous black rose pillowcase that was currently laying in her coffin, and, of course, Bert. But this time, she wasn't here to get anything for herself. She spotted a couple boxes thrown in a pile. Weaving around the clutter, she made her way over. Each one was different but the swirly print of "Mythomagic" was printed on every one. So many choices! How could she choose? She started going through and reading descriptions.

"Do you need help?"

Abby's attention flashed to a small, pale boy who looked to be deeply regretting speaking at all.

"Yeah," Abby admitted. "It's for a friend. I am doing this for a local children's hospital. Getting stuff for some of the kids' birthdays. There's a girl that is really into card games like this. Do you know anything about this game?"

The boy hesitated for a moment before slowly opening up.

"If she's a beginner, go for the standard Olympian deck. It provides a good amount of basic instruction and application, sticking to the basics. It doesn't get complicated but still allows the player to make some flexible plays. The hero pack is way more complicated and is harder to customize, though an experienced player can really dominate using them. If the girl loves continuously long math problems, that deck is perfect. The expansion packs are for more experienced players looking for special customizations or who are playing challenges. I'd advise focusing on mastering the basics first, getting used to the standard packs."

Abby smiled. "You really know a lot about this game!"

The boy wrinkled his nose. "I used to play it when I was a kid."

"Well, thanks for helping me, um…"

The boy gave her a look-over. "It's Nico."

"I'm Abby. Thanks a bunch, Nico."

Nico twisted a jar in his hands. "It's no problem."

He shifted and, for a moment, Abby swore she something clipped to his side. It disappeared when he moved to leave. Her gut tingled.

"So, Nico," Abby said, feeling victorious when the boy turned back around to her, "What are you searching for in here?"

Nico lifted a brow and held up the jar. "I'm no longer searching."

Abby became genuinely interested. "What do you use that for?"

Nico's sigh sounded of defeat. "I'm looking for... a friend."

"They're lost?"

"He's always lost," the kid was quick to snark but recomposed himself with another glance at who he was talking to. "More like he's missing."

"And you think Misty's Freeze-Dried Tuna will help?"

His shoulders drooped. "It's a stupid idea," he said.

"Is he a dolphin or something?" Abby joked, trying to perk up the gloomy boy. Of course, you should never feed a dolphin Freeze-Dried anything.

Oddly enough, the boy looked to seriously consider it. "Well," he drawled, "If the shoe fits."

Abby thought about that. She guessed Sister Alba's laugh sounded Dolphin-like, especially when she got a strike. Still, Abby was confused. She jolted as her phone dinged. It was Tim. There was another case. Another body. She had to get back to headquarters.

She glanced back up. "It was good to meet you, Nico, and thanks again for helping me out. I hope you find your friend."

Nico shuffled to the door. "Thanks."

"And by the way, sweet Bomber."

Nico smiled and slipped out.

Abby stared at the closing door. Right there, as Nico left, she saw it. It was slid into a black sheath hanging on his hip. That kid was walking around with a three-foot-long sword!

-Ντόναλντ-

Ducky stared down at the poor man who now occupied the autopsy table. Gibbs would want answers soon. As Ducky worked on opening the body, he dutifully educated his young assistant.

"…Indeed, if troops would stay long enough in an area, it had the potential to grow into a village. Many modern villages- hold it steady, Mr. Palmer- in the Middle East are there because of U.S. forces. Troops provide protection and also quickly build secure, structured bases. If left- hand me the scalpel- long enough, the local population will start settling down, populating the area, and expand, making a place for themselves to stay. This isn't a new phenomenon. It has been happening- a clamp, if you would- since ancient times. In fact, many English cities are thought to have been created due to Roman Military camps, such as…" Ducky wavered.

Roman?

"Doctor?"

Ducky looked back at the tattoo on the victim's forearm. SPQR. Senātus Populusque Rōmānus. Could this man be?

"Doctor Mallard?"

Ducky blinked.

"Oh, yes. My apologies, Mr. Palmer. I was just thinking that- er- you should give these shrapnel pieces to Abigail."

"Now, Doctor? We aren't done with the procedure."

"I can handle it just fine, Mr. Palmer. Don't you worry. You know how Abigail gets. I don't want her rushing to call me for more work."

Jimmy chuckled, and Ducky forced one out, too.

Making sure that Jimmy was off in the elevator, Ducky hurried to his desk.

If his hypothesis was correct…

He went back to the body and made a small mark on the shoulder.

Oh, dear.

He examined the cut he made with the Celestial Bronze dagger.

He would have to tell Jethro. Immediately.

-Λέρωι-

Jethro got off the phone with Ducky. Hopefully, there wasn't anything supernatural related to the victim's cause of death. They would have to prepare for the possibility anyway. He sank in his chair. Wonderful.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied McGee loitering in the middle of the bullpen. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

"What is it, McGee?"

"Um, Boss?" Gibbs mentally shook his head. Tim really needed to outgrow his timidness. "I just got a new e-mail from- uh- Agent- er- Anne Lima."

Jethro snapped to attention. McGee jumped. "I just, you know, thought you should, well, be aware, and…"

Jethro opened his own e-mail. He had one, too. Jethro guessed she must have sent it to all four of them.

He was proven correct as Ziva said, "Gibbs, I've also been contacted." Tony responded in kind, too.

"McGee," Jethro interrupted the rambling, "Put it up."

"Right." McGee scrambled over and soon had the message up on the plasma.

There was a moment of silence as they all read.

"What do we do, Boss?" Tony asked.

Jethro looked at his team, all eyes on him and ready to follow his orders.

"We have a missing Agent. Find him."

Previous Chapter Chapter List

#scarpool #fanfic #fanfiction #Godly Marine: Killed #NCIS #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #Crossover #gen fic #PG/K+#Writing #Complete

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miraneko19 · 5 years

Text

One Piece Theory [Spoilers]

No seriously, I mean SPOILERS. Big ones referring to the latest chapter 967. So if you have not read it yet, or haven’t gotten to Wano in general yet, you might want to sit this post out unless you're like me and actually enjoy spoilers. But this is also more on the “crack theory” side of things, so those who DO read don’t take what I say too seriously.

Due to the recent chapter 967 of One Piece, some stuff came to my mind that I've been thinking about for a while. Now this could ALL be entirely off, like, laughable in that regard. But at the same time my brain keeps chanting "but whAT IF THOUGH??" and because of that, there are a few things I want to lay down here before I get to the conclusion I have almost unwillingly come to.

So first, a few things about the series that we know: a group of people in the early life of the Earth went up to the moon, these people lived on the moon until they ran out of resources, and then they settled down into Birka, Skypeia, and Jaya, where Jaya has Shandora founded on it. After building these places up, they became thriving locations during the void century. Sometime around there, ALSO during the void century, the Great Kingdom came to be.

Here are where things get even more vague, and any connections made here on out are undoubtedly a stretch of some form. Basically, after looking through the One Piece timeline and some theories going around, I found it very strange that apparently, Shandora and the Great Kingdom were taken down at around the same time. Not only that, but after the Alliance was formed to take down the Great Kingdom, the Alliance had also taken down Shandora with the Great Kingdom. This could be because Shandora and the Great Kingdom became allies, or this could be because Shandora WAS the Great Kingdom (which is unlikely for a couple of reasons). Or at least a part of it somehow. It's been generally accepted that Raftel/Laugh Tale is the remains of the Great Kingdom, but we also were reminded in chapter 967 that Roger was the one who had named the island that. We find out that he did so after reading Joy Boy's story (or some similar process).

Now, Joy Boy played a HUGE part in the creation and distribution of the poneglyphs. It's pretty safe to say even that he had a huge connection to the Great Kingdom itself. This would further cement Raftel ALSO having that huge connection, and likely being where the Great Kingdom once stood in general.

We also have yet to find out where Shandora, the original, once stood. A while ago, I had heard Tekking make a good point about the fact that Doctor Clover from Ohara had to be silenced when he was about to speak the Great Kingdom's true name for a reason. If the World Government didn't want the name of the kingdom to be spoken, it must've been because the name would be recognizable, right? If it was a name COMPLETELY wiped from history, to the point where no one would know about it anymore, then hearing the name wouldn't exactly shock anyone or raise controversy. Therefore, it would make the MOST sense for the name of the Great Kingdom to have had a name that people would mostly recognize.

This would mean that Shandora, or even Jaya for that matter don't seem like they would be candidates for having been the Great Kingdom since their names aren't that well known. On top of which, as far as we know, even the original Shandora would have been rather far from Raftel since it was founded on Jaya. So until more information is given, Shandora and the Great Kingdom at the very LEAST had to have been close allies for the Alliance to want to destroy them both. Them being the same kingdom in general is still possible, but not necessary for the question I want to pose.

So, after Shandora was destroyed, the Shandorians fled and made a new Shandora which was eventually shot up into the sky by the knock up stream, ultimately banging the gavel on Noland's fate. Years have passed, and it looks like all of the moon people who have either began living in the sky islands directly after coming back to earth, or later came to the sky islands via the knock up stream, all have kept their wings. However, despite the moon people having also settled on Jaya, not a single person there is mentioned to have wings. Sounds to me like it was a thing that simply ended up going away for the moon folk on the ground through evolution and the gene pools mixing. That said, any moon folk whose descendants grew up on the ground eventually evolved to not have wings anymore.

That opens a whole new can of worms for Eneru, who I will be questioning thoroughly later. But for now, I want to move on to the Will of D. Those that bear the initial D are said to be natural enemies of god, of the celestial dragons, and by extension, the world government. It sounds like something that would certainly come about if the ancestors of those who bear that initial had originally come together during the great war of the void century and became enemies of the alliance. I don't think everyone who bears that initial is blood related or anything. More like, during the void century, a group of people might have gotten together and formed a clan, claiming that initial for them for some reason, and declaring their opposition against the alliance.

We don't exactly KNOW how many allies the Great Kingdom had, or who they all were. All we really know, is that Shandora and the Great Kingdom had a huge connection of some sort, and that the Celestial Dragons hate the "Will of D" which basically implicates their bloodlines having their OWN connections to the Great Kingdom as well. So many thoughts have swirled through my head over this since the recent chapter, and these just had to be the first ones I write down.

Okay, now that I have all of this context explained, it's time for the confession. All of this was just a very long-winded way of asking: Wouldn't it be great if the D people are Moon People? I want the D people to be descendants of the moon people.

By extension, once again, this makes me EXTREMELY suspicious of Wingless, Scarless Eneru, especially given that he has been on the moon for a while now doing god (so, him) knows WHAT with all of the information he has at his disposal. So, in the words of one of my greatest friends: "ENEL, WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME YOUNG MAN"

I have a few more thoughts and more serious theories I’d like to iron out as well, but I’ll see what I do with them after this.

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waterwindow · 5 years

Text

@bloodshadow213 Okay! This is actually the second ask I’ve gotten about Al in the last couple days.

So I guess hopefully I’ll be able to help the Anon as well with the information.

Al’s story is complicated. And 90% of it took place in V1 which means it’s laced with campy jargon, continuity errors, stories being told out of order and.... “””comics logic”””

WARNING, THIS IS REALLY LONG.

It doesn’t help that a lot of Wiki data and other online sources on him are completely false. Most of them confuse him with his Astral Twin Alvin and they can’t even get his actual height correct EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVE THE INFORMATION IN COMICS CLEAR AS DAY

if you’re going to WRITE THE ARTICLE could you please at least---

read the comics (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

ahem.

Despite that he’s one of my favorite characters, and so I’ve spent a LOT of time (YEARS) thinking about him so I’ll be the first to admit my interpretation of events is completely biased. I’ll do my best to separate concrete information from my headcanons.

anywho here’s Albert, HE’S..... HANDSOME.....

Okay so Albert- he’s got a few split personalities. Mr. Element and Doctor Alchemy. He’s also got the power to transmute elements. Yes- another misconception is that Albert’s gun or the philosopher’s stone is where he gets his powers. And where it was apparently retconned that Al needs the Philosopher’s Stone for most of his existence that wasn’t the case.

(and personally I still don’t believe that’s the case, because we’ve only ever seen ALVIN actively loose his powers when the stone is taken from him. And that might make sense once I get into who and what Alvin is. But let’s focus on Albert for now)

Anyhow, yes Albert is a metahuman.

He got his powers from meteoric radiation beamed into his brain as an infant. And his powers and split personalities are linked somehow or somewhat with celestial activity.

Anywho, the Element Gun at the very least is more like a magic wand that he can use to channel his power through. And it’s actually useless in the hands of someone else.

(I have a few headcanons that the Philosopher’s Stone might also be a meteorite- if not a larger piece of the meteorite that originally mutated him as a baby. Or it could be a figment of his imagination (link to headcanon).)

One thing that does seem consistent is that Albert’s powers are more or less suppressed and he has to assume one of his undesirable personalities to “unlock” them.

BUT EVEN THAT’S NOT ALWAYS TRUE. Here’s Al saving a firefighter as Mister Element.

(This isn’t the first time Mr. Element has been heroic, So it’s my headcanon that the Mister Element personality isn’t necessarily ‘split’ with Albert’s. It’s just a more intense version of himself. Because out of Costume, Albert is quiet and mild-mannered.)

ENTER THIS ASSHOLE

So there’s a plot where Eobard needs Albert’s help to get his speed back. But Albert won’t help because his powers are ‘locked’ behind his ‘Evil’ personality. So Eobard makes Albert go and steal stuff (with the random ability to hypnotize people by vibrating that he magically obtains for this single story) And spends the entire adventure trying to impress Al and gaslight him into thinking he likes crime.

And poor Al is just

he’s so done. It’s horrible I ship it

OKAY ANYWAYS

My ultimate point here before I got distracted fangirling is that despite Barry’s efforts to help, Eobard wins Al over and convinces him that he IS ultimately Evil.

The story ends with Albert momentarily betraying Eobard right as he was commanded to kill Barry. (using the power of self-hypnosis to counter-act Eobard’s influences.) Though convinced he is forever and permanently evil at that point, Barry knocks him out and uses the cosmic treadmill to take Albert to the future where he can be um

‘cured’

of his evil tendencies forever.

COUGHS this isn’t a lobotomy at all

So yeah! Al is ‘’’’cured’’’’

ENTER THIS STINKY BOY

Albert’s been a good. So Alvin shows up and starts running around as Doctor Alchemy COMMITTING CRIME. This is the first story we see him in so everyone thinks Albert is the one running around in costume, of course.

(Barry, Iris, and Rita are all part of Al’s life but I haven’t gone into them in depth for brevity- because holy shit this is long....)

(yes you read that right, Rita keeps tranquilizers on hand for Albert- for... obvious reasons- earlier in this post you saw he wigged out and caught their car on fire while they were in it. SHE PUTS UP WITH A LOT....)

( Headcanon-talk though. It couldn’t have been easy for Al either knowing he could be called a liar or drugged by his spouse at the drop of a hat. Of course Rita has every right to fear for her life. And she’s done a lot for Al, at the risk of her own safety. But that being said... they do get an off-screen divorce, and I believe it was 100% mutual.

This has got to be an unpopular opinion, since the fandom loves Rita and of course I’m sad they wrote her out of the story as well. I love her too! But it couldn’t have been easy for Al either. Living with a mental illness and a distrusting spouse who keeps a weapon on hand to use against you. And it’s clear later on that Albert literally has such an awful time keeping his shit together that he needs much more help than just Rita can provide. RAH RAH BLAH BLAH-)

Anywho,

they cart Albert off to jail, but Alvin kidnaps him. With every intent to frame him for all the crime he sees fit to do.

According to Alvin, he is Albert’s psychic/astral twin. Born at the same time and with an identical childhood to Albert’s.

Again according to Alvin, they sit on some sort of moral Teeter-totter. Where whenever Albert is good- Alvin feels an uncontrollable urge to be evil. and vice-versa.

Anyways he invented this potion called Desmodium where the fumes can cause people to be susceptible to hypnotic suggestion (Wow Alvin knows about hypnosis too, his entire life is so coincidentally similar to Albert’s) - which is how he was able to use Rita to lie about Albert’s alibi and frame Albert for Alvin’s crimes. He explains that because of their psychic connection, Alvin was able to locate where Albert hid the philosopher’s stone and used it to take up the mantle of Doctor Alchemy. (in this scene Albert is also under the influence of Desmodium which is why he’s just sitting dead-eyed like a doll)

So Alvin leaves to try and kill the Flash, and once he believes he has won, he reveals himself to Barry- and obviously he doesn’t succeed, so now Barry knows the truth of what’s going on and is on Albert’s side. Meanwhile, Albert escapes and feels the uncontrollable urge to don the Mr. Element costume to combat his evil twin. (Wigging out from the stress probably- which is why I headcanon that the Mr. Element personality is just a stronger-willed and decisive version of Albert.)

SO THEY FIGHT. It’s glorious.

Albert saves a firefighter, Barry sees the whole thing. Also Rita and Al meet up off-panel where he explains everything to her and she in turn explains everything to Barry and that’s completely convinced him that Albert is completely innocent and is in fact trying to do the heroic thing.

SO Albert, Rita and Barry work together and ultimately defeat Alvin. And from there on Alvin takes up the mantle of Doctor Alchemy permanently, becoming an honorary Rogue while Albert goes into retirement.

(Alvin seems to be the only one who ever hung out with the Rogues at all and had a relationship with them. He seems to have got along well with Lisa - or at the very least she seems entertained by his antics. Whereas she has no patience for perverts, and yet she’s bemused by Alvin’s flirtations when he’s drunk. Also Alvin being in consortium with the Rogues is why I believe Hartley much later comments on how ‘Freaked out’ the Rogues are of Albert.

Because whO IS THIS GUY? WHERE’D THE FUN REDHEADED AL GO.... Also all things considered, of course he laughed in their faces.)

I’M NOT DONE YET.

VOLUME 2

So somewhere along the line, Alvin discovers that he isn’t in fact Albert’s astral twin. That he’s actually a completely artificial construct born by the philosopher’s stone (or Albert himself depending on your interpretation) Personality completely made up of Albert’s ‘Dark Side’.

(WHEN or HOW Alvin came to this realization isn’t explained, but if I had to headcanon it might have been when he somehow survived his ‘death’ in his Blue Beetle cameo.

He attempts to merge with the Philosopher’s stone and it leads to his demise... AND THEN APPEARS AGAIN FOUR YEARS LATER IN THE FLASH. WE CAN READ INTO THIS- THEY DEFINITELY DIDN’T MAKE A MISTAKE.....)

Anyways, back to Flash v2. In volume 40 and 41 Alvin has completely lost his mind- likely due to his identity crises and tries to take over Albert’s life completely. Convincing Wally and Linda (and himself apparently) that he is ACTUALLY Albert Desmond, and not the evil twin.

But Wally figures out that it’s actually Alvin and defeats him.

And finds Albert locked up in the closet (FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG....)

Hopefully not long, Wally postulates that Alvin had been listening to Albert’s phonecalls and wanted an opportunity to get the Flash once and for all.

Alvin is taken to jail, but escapes almost instantly, leading to a fight with Wally that doesn’t look like it will end well for him. BUT GUESS WHO SHOWS UP JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME

butt

Fake memories you say, Wally? Would certainly explain why Alvin’s life was so identical to Albert’s.

And that is the end of Alvin, killed/absorbed by his own brother.

....

hey- remember this?

It’s almost like Al’s story could be read as a metaphor for neurodiverse repression to the point of self-destruction. Instead of working with him, they literally lobotomized the ‘evil’ out of him and gave birth to a physical manifestation of how he felt himself perceived by the outside world.

i’ve been reading these comics for too damn long

Anyways! After that, Albert vanished into the wind. He became Doctor Alchemy permanently and denounced the Mr. Element name- calling it an ‘embarrassment’. He became solitary and committed crimes much darker than his previous. (notably, a cop-murdering spree in Gotham).

Albert is literally unstoppable and the only reason he’s not wreaking havoc is He’s now characterized by his unhealthy obsession with books and escapism and finding ‘Peace and Quiet’.

Not only that, he seems to have developed a something of a grudge against Wally. (Either that or he’s too far gone to care about anything any more)

And that’s..... basically the end of the story. There’s some loose ends that got nuked out of existence right before Flashpoint. Something insinuating that Albert may have a larger role to play or knows more than he’s letting on- but it’s literally so vague it could be interpreted as anything. The plot is lost in the wind, unfortunately.

But If you made it all the way to the end, thank you for listening to my dramatic summery of Al’s story

Believe it or not, but I wasn’t even half as thorough as I could have been. So I definitely encourage you to read v1 and draw your own conclusions.

#doctor alchemy

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ivyquinnauthor · 5 years

Note

12, 17 and 25 for the ff writer asks please :)

Responding to the fanfic writer questions, if anyone else wants to ask some, feel free!

***12 - Who is your favorite character to write for?***

I guess since I’ve written pretty consistently in three fandoms so far, I’d list the ones that I liked the best for each or used to like. I mean, I was first in Buffy fandom so Spike. In Smallville---which I can’t write for anymore at all cause whoo boy all the scandals there turn my stomach----I liked Chloe Sullivan but again the real life terrible, literal cult stuff means I can’t do anything in that fandom anymore, and I haven’t written for that character in over 4 years. Such things happen. In Lucifer, I prefer Lucifer the most cause lots of just angst to mine but also sarcasm, lol.

************

***17) Post a line from a WIP you’re working on:***

Honestly, I have a few I spin plates for, keep up in the air, between two multi-chapter fics and a sort of interconnected series of one-shots. So, lines from the following:

A) From “Recurrence” -

As musicals go, he appreciated ones with a more intense difficulty level and, in that regard, The Music Man left much to be desired. Doing the quid pro quo to show the lads trying out for Harold Hill how it’s supposed to be done was far from a challenge---he much preferred being out with Ella in Vegas with some Lady Luck---but he muddled through the inferior song anyway. After all, trouble with a capital T is something he knew everything about.

B) From “This Ebony Bird Beguiling” -

He wasn’t sure how he got from playing helpful house guest, preparing sugary-laden treats for the urchin and the detective (when Chloe woke up, talk about a rough night) in a sunny beach house to giving Trixie Espinosa preening advice. Oh, don’t get him wrong. His interminable life had been nothing but bizarre, depending on whose perspective one took, but it usually didn’t vacillate between almost mind-numbingly boring and human one moment to worrying about someone else’s loose pin feathers the very next.

C) From “Queer Eye for the Chef Guy” (next Culinary Advice one-shot) -

“I agreed to this, sort of, because you clearly need a distraction while Linda works through the whole you’re-the-devil-thing.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Gary. “You have a fine talent for making the infernal and, frankly, formerly---very formerly---divine sound mundane, Preston. It’s more than a just a ‘thing.’”

Oh Christ...wait shouldn’t even think it. He'd gotten the devil extra prickly already. “Fine then. You want a project, and I want to keep Ms. Smith happy and, by extension, both my arms intact, but does it have to involve my clothes?”

“These!” Lucifer said, holding up a pair of cargo pants littering the floor. “Cannot be labeled clothes. In fact, do you have lighter fluid? Never mind I can immolate anything...”

“You can what?” And he didn’t yip, not really. Okay, maybe a little.

��Well, what all do you think I can do?”

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. If he’d known that, he’d have just dragged his rucksack to Lux. Let Lucifer accidentally set his own bloody flat on fire.

***

And just cause sometimes I keep notes on things to do one day if little scraps of things come to mind, a couple snippets from stuff that’s just ideas and files for now:

A) From “Hair of the Dog” -

He should send Miss Lopez home. Lucifer knew that the moment he spotted her arguing with Patrick in a very colorful and completely un-Ella-like mix of Spanish and English curses grumbling about being cut off. A good person would call her an Uber or even a private car---he could more than afford it---and send her home with a spare bottle of aspirin from under the bar to boot. Lux kept plenty of other first aid remedies around. After the hangover she was sure to have in the morning, Miss Lopez would even thank him for such chivalry.

Except Lucifer was not a good person.

Just a week ago, after the worst moment of his long suffering life, the detective had more than established that to her, he was not a person at all. And it was perversely impressive that in literally billions of years of existence, including permanent exile from his entire (mostly rubbish) family and burning for millennia in a lake of fire, that the detective yelling about being terrified of him would be the worst, but it was. So, no, Lucifer was not a good person or even pretending to be one right now. And he was well and truly soused for once after a steady effort at not only drinking every handle in his personal bar and half of Lux’s but also from downing more than his fair share---celestial metabolism or not---of some molly from the last party he hosted in the penthouse.

He was probably for a precious hour longer even less clear-headed than Miss Lopez. So when he pulled her away from the bar and smoothed things over with Patrick, he couldn’t quite make himself send her away, especially after she curled into his side. He definitely couldn’t refuse her suggestion to go up to the penthouse either...

B) From “What to Expect When You’re an Expecting Devil” -

“No.”

He arched an eyebrow back at his therapist, who, to be fair, was also his former lover (and before things got utterly complicated and pear-shaped, he’d still have kept up that arrangement with her; she was that good as he found the uptight ones tended to be when they got a chance to let loose), currently the mother-to-be of his first ever nephew, and the only other person in history that he or Amenadiel knew about who was also dealing with a celestial pregnancy. Which sodding perfect. However, just because they were all kinds of enmeshed and, eventually, would be family and boy had his brother cocked that all up (literally), it didn’t mean he had to always listen to her.

If his track record was anything to go by, he rarely did.

Still, Linda kept her hand held out till he relinquished the handle and then coughed at him till he yielded the tumbler too. There were demons he’d beheaded in Hell for far less insolence. Sad state of affairs he’d reached where a wisp of a thing who couldn’t even hope to come up to his chest got him to acquiesce with merely her glare.

“First of all, if this is even...whatever Remiel thinks she senses and it’s assuredly not that because Dad likes his jokes but that’s...” He stuttered a bit there. “I am not that. Even if I were, I don’t think drinking would hurt the little larva and, maybe if it did, bully for everyone. Surely, by now you’re at least passingly familiar with Revelation?”

Linda’s glare hardened, and she gestured to the bar. “Don’t even. I’m not drinking with an angel-baby cause who even knows and you’re not going to...”

“With the antichrist?”He bit back, tone cutting, but the fight leaking from him. “If Remiel is right---and let’s all just hope she’s not because her spider sense is busted---I’m going to need to a drink or all of them worse than ever now.”

“No, Lucifer. Not self destruction for one or, well, both of you that way.”

He pursed his lips but grabbed a bottle of water from behind the penthouse’s bar instead. “Fine then. I suppose that’s the price of you being the only doctor I know who can help me out on the other end of things, you know, if Remy’s not just cracked.”

Linda blanched. “Nope not doing. First, there’s such a thing as too much family togetherness but also I’m not even close to that kind of doctor and it’s been three decades since medical school. Add in that...” she paused then, fumbling for the politic way to phrase something, he was sure.

“Right, like I said, the antichrist. Maybe. I don’t rightly know, John was very stoned when he wrote all that down. Psychadelic nightmare fuel and all that. So, then, I just go it alone, again, assuming Remy’s right?” His hand strayed to his hip because, honestly, self preserving powers of denial aside, even he knew something was really different about him these last two months.

And it shouldn’t intimidate him to have Linda waddle over to him with her eyes narrowed and, if anyone but Amenadiel ever asked him, it didn’t. Not really.

She sighed and bit her lower lip. “Okay, so not an optimal idea, but I have a friend from my residency and his son’s really talented just tends to fuck up...I mean he has his license but if you pay enough....no questions asked so that was what I was thinking?”

“Question or a statement, love?”

“Little of both, but I’m sure no booze is good booze till seven months from now.”

Lucifer drained his water. “Well, and I thought I knew something about Hell. Clearly, I was wrong.”

*******

***25) Have you ever cried writing a story?***

Yes, I have. Back when I still wrote Smallville, I have a very dark trilogy of stories called the Lara-verse. When writing two parts of that series, Black as Sackcloth and Of Wolves and Lambs, I cried because the first involved some fairly gruesome and distressing lead character deaths and because the second dealt a lot with dissociation and PTSD. Honestly, I never finished the series with the four installment because it was such a weird, hard headspace to be in that I just didn’t have the strength to go back to it. It’s on my livejournal here if anyone reads Smallville - https://legendarytobes.livejournal.com/?skip=30&tag=lara%20verse - people would have to friend me there to read, but if anyone’s that curious, feel free to.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Lucifer Season 5 Episode 10 Review: Bloody Celestial Karaoke Jam

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This Lucifer review contains spoilers.

Lucifer Season 5 Episode 10

“We celestials are pretty much the same as you.”

It’s the bold series that takes on the demands of producing a musical episode that manages to not only seamlessly blend lyrically into the overall narrative arc but also give fans a peek into another side of the characters and actors. Like it or not, any attempt to blend singing and dancing with an active storyline will be somehow measured against Joss Whedon and Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s “Once More, with Feeling,” long considered the gold standard of musical episodes. “Bloody Celestial Karaoke Jam” more than holds its own, and Lucifer successfully continues its tale of familial discord and the universal, individual struggle with self worth.

It comes as no surprise that Tom Ellis (Lucifer Morningstar) and his glorious vocal talents help carry this delightful effort, but the rest of the crew displays a myriad of talents as we’re treated to renditions of everything from Queen to Les Miserables. Yes, the vocal dubbing could have been a bit tighter, and it’s somewhat disappointing that Laura German (Chloe Decker) chose not to sing, but from the opening scene in which Lucifer sits down at the piano amidst a tortured, sleepless night, it becomes instantly clear that the show has successfully gambled on the remarkably charismatic presence each character evokes.

Of course, the episode’s strength centers on the lyrical tie-ins to the self-esteem battles the characters face, not the least of which is Lucifer’s contention that he lacks the ability to love because of the way his Father raised him. Any time we get Lucifer at the piano, good things invariably occur, and his haunting performance of Chris Isaac’s 1989 anthem “Wicked Game” set against a visual montage of some of the highlights from his relationship with Chloe sets a deeply introspective tone that culminates in God’s shocking revelation. When the Devil sings “I wanna fall in love with you,” his plaintive cry transcends more than just his connection to the detective. The cracks in the celestial family’s foundation have shown themselves for a while now, but the opportunity now presents itself for Lucifer, Amenadiel, and Mazikeen to settle their differences with the Big Guy.

Perhaps the most surprising turn of events here is that Chloe refuses to accept Lucifer’s willingness to deprive them of the happiness they both know is possible. “All couples have problems,” she tells him as they begin to investigate the death of a high school football referee. She insists he’s capable of love, and this promising exchange fades when Ella briefs the partners on the intricacies of the man’s death by poison whistle. If you’re going to focus your murder on a high school football official, you might as well draw the cheerleaders and marching band into the musical mix. Perhaps a bit heavy handed but still amusing nonetheless, Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” emerges, and Aimee Garcia (Ella Lopez) and Kevin Alejandro (Daniel Espinoza) go front and center among the tightly choreographed uniformed teenagers. More importantly, however, God’s role in this musical theater reveals itself when Lucifer notices his Father watching from the sideline. “It’s not what people do at a crime scene.”

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Nevertheless, God’s presence at the murder scene gives Chloe the long awaited opportunity to confront Lucifer’s dad about his role not only in her life but his son’s as well. It’s one thing to hear Lucifer accuse his Father, but when she gets in God’s face and takes up Lucifer’s cause, we have to wonder whether she truly believes his side of the story or merely defends the man she loves in spite of the narrative inconsistencies. Dennis Haysbert continues to underplay an individual who’s often portrayed as someone to fear rather than someone who listens, and his interplay with his wayward son provides some of the episode’s best moments.

Dr. Linda often waltzes in and out of a story, yet never fails to leave an indelible mark. We’ve become accustomed to her sessions with Lucifer on the couch, and the image of Lucifer on one end and God on the other can’t help but elicit a smile. “It’s impossible to make him happy,” Lucifer tells the doctor who unexpectedly picks up where Chloe left off and sends God a similar message. With a wry smile firmly planted on his face, Lucifer’s Father agrees to unconditionally support the son who feels abandoned, abused, and misunderstood. Tossing a football to his son is another one of those sublime touches the series employs so well, and when it bounces unceremoniously off Lucifer’s chest, Dad’s response is classic. “Nice block?”

There are a number of other amusingly nuanced moments sprinkled throughout the episode, but my favorite may be Dan’s interaction with Lucifer’s dad at the precinct. “I know who you are. I believe you met my wife,” God tells the terrified detective before presenting one of his best zingers. “I’ll be seeing you later, or not.” Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor. Wearing way more makeup than usual, Mazikeen seems determined to embrace her bad girl image as she brings a good looking biker boy to meet Ella. In addition to the dancing, we’re treated to an apropos mashup featuring George Thorogood’s “Bad to the Bone” and TLC’s “No Scrubs.” However, it’s the subtext surrounding Maze’s refusal to accept God’s prior admonition that she’s perfect as is. Past experience tells us that she’s on a self-destructive path that can only be stopped by those who love her. Unfortunately, like Lucifer, she feels she doesn’t deserve what others so willingly want to give her.

One the religious bedrocks is the acceptance, on faith, of that which can’t be seen. We can debate whether or not Lucifer makes a good faith attempt to reconcile with his Father, but it’s Chloe who sees through all of the baggage father and son have accumulated over millennia. “I have faith in you,” she tells Lucifer, and while that support might ordinarily be enough to continue the dialogue, at this point, we’re not certain.

Though Chloe leaves the singing to the others, Laura German’s dance moves prove up to the task. Still, as the detective muses reflectively over one of Trixie’s refrigerator art pieces, it’s the child who erupts in song. And boy does Scarlett Estevez nail it. God watches off to the side as Trixie innocently sings Natalie Cole’s “Smile” whose lyrics offer the hope that Chloe has not only for herself but her child’s future as well.

DB Woodside (Amenadiel) gets a nice moment with Dan as they contemplate their lives, but it’s the angel’s disappointment that his son is a mere mortal that hints at future conflicts with Linda. Mom is thrilled at the news that her son is mortal and enjoys a wonderful jaunt through the park as other moms push their strollers during a delightful performance of “Just the Two of Us.”

Ultimately, however, it’s the interaction between Lucifer and his Father that drives the episode and in many ways acts as a catalyst for the other relationships as well. Instead of the vengeful God Lucifer portrays him to be, his Father asks for a second chance with the son who feels he was rejected and banished to Hell. And in arguably the most poignant sequence in the episode, Haysbert and Ellis combine on a moving duet of “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miserables. There’s no question Lucifer has a right to feel ignored and maybe even mistreated, and it’s up to his father to explain His actions. But in this case, actions speak louder than words, and when God tenderly places his hand on his son’s shoulder, his words belie his intended message. While the lyric “There are dreams that cannot be” appears to run counter to what Lucifer desires, God’s message to his son offers multiple levels of meaning. “I cannot fix you, Lucifer.”

And then the controversial bombshell makes its appearance. Lucifer’s mood shifts dramatically when, with tears streaming down his face, God tells his son that he feels he’s losing control of his powers. Fans of the show understand that Lucifer is not meant to accurately mirror the biblical figure on which his character is based but rather to present an entertaining, alternate take on the world’s most famous fallen angel. Haters of the show will never be able to see beyond their contention that the series elevates evil when nothing could be further from the truth. Still, presenting the Almighty in a weakened position could be a bridge too far.

For better or worse, this is not Jonathan Edwards angry God, rather one shown on a more human level. For some that may be a problem, but we really need to see this unexpected revelation more as a metaphor for the decision by many to abandon organized religion and by extension, a deeply felt faith in God. Will Lucifer’s father entreat his son to help disseminate a message of love, which ironically, Lucifer feels he’s incapable of expressing?

There’s a lot to consider, but the power of “Bloody Celestial Karaoke Jam” lies not in the marvelous theatrical conventions the episode employs but in the progress it makes highlighting the personal struggles the celestials and mortals face on a daily basis. Mortals experiencing a crisis of faith is nothing new; watching God’s family sort out its internal issues in much the same way imparts a sense of unease. But then, that’s what good television does.

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Lucifer season 5 is available to stream on Netflix now.

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