writing for SCIENCE!

writing/fanfic blog for asmosoodle icon by Lavabeast!

[asmodrabble]

the concept of mercy

drabble of my ocs i need places to post this shit

- tw blood

Marcellus tore into another. Incompetentency did not have its place here. A young child, a clumsy girl of maybe thirteen or fourteen, stood, shivering. She had only been here for a few years. Her red hair matched the blood that was splattered onto her face-- the spray was almost indistinguishable from her red freckles. If she hadn’t been afraid of vampires before, she would be scared into submission now. Still, Marcellus had intended for her to share the same fate as the remains she was standing in. Why did they hesitate?

As they turned their head to survey their surroundings-- a dark basement now covered in blood. A few jugs full of a red liquid made it clear that murder was not the only objective here. Their crimson eyes watched anything but her, trying to ponder what it was that made them stop with her.

Out of the corner of their eye, the girl had disappeared, replaced with a terrified, teenage vampire. A child who hated seeing humans hurt. Red hair turned brown, pale skin turned tanned. They did a double take, and the girl stood where she was. Marcellus sighed and opened the door, allowing for a vampire maid to come in and take the jugs of blood.

They finally opened their mouth to speak, fangs becoming smaller, their red eyes dimming to a deeper, richer color. Their gaze remained completely emotionless.

“Clean this up and get changed. You have two hours,” they said, and the tiny, dainty little girl got to work  immediately. A small smile crossed Marcellus’ expression as she busied herself. Fear worked in wonderful ways. So did mercy, apparently.

Perhaps mercy can be useful, sometimes.

[asmodrabble]

Follow My Lead - An unfinished Jaxian Fanfiction

I gave myself until this Morostide to finish this and then I never did so here have this mess because this is an indication that I’ll never get it done.

Pairing: Jaxian (Jaxon Skelly &  Ian Asmodeus)

Fandom: Subeta

Rating: SFW

Bored. The easiest way to describe the ghost’s mood was completely and utterly bored. He’d already knit possibly everything he could find in one of the books (his grandmother enjoyed the hobby) in his library and found no joy in doing it twice. His scientist friend, no, no, much more than that, was in the basement continuing his work on things that went beyond his realm of understanding. Technology was painfully difficult, especially if he was often barred from learning too much due to the scientist’s impatience with his slowness. Ian Asmodeus was never really the best teacher. He liked efficiency from the get-go, but modern technology was something that would take a good amount of time for him to adjust to, as he had none of the tools Ian was working with in his time of living and could only be exposed to it two weeks every year after meeting the young scientist.

Nonetheless, Ian’s work required a lot of tinkering and Jaxon’s knowledge of the Other Side and the inner workings of said realm. Tinkering was something that did not often include Jaxon unless his dearest was stuck because he overthought the solution. Between offerings and tending the patch, and the rare moments he could pull Ian from his work, the phantom had a lot of free time on his hands. He’d already knit a plush of his favored scientist, which went missing, several sweaters, which Ian often forgot to wear (he really had terrible preservation skills), and probably played cat’s cradle with the leftover string more times than he could count. He supposed he could tend to his small garden of dangerous flora, but he’d already done that many times. The Audricus would die if he kept on preening the thing.

Jaxon’s eyes scanned his library, perhaps trying to find something he could use to divert Ian’s attention. Ian needed a break, anyhow. He'd been too focused on work, and that brain of his needed a rest from all those calculations and alterations. For his health. His eyes rested upon one of his old dance manuals. Particularly for the waltz. He remembered there was a masquerade ball. Teaching Ian to waltz would be practical. Perhaps when he was able, they could go together. He pulled the manual from the shelf and flipped through it, maps of the steps and memories of his life flooding through his mind. He remembered begrudgingly learning the, at the time, necessary skill and falling all over relatives and tutors alike. He imagined the scenario with Ian in his stead and a glimmer of a smug smile appeared on his face. This was devious, but the results would be satisfying.

It took only a moment for Jaxon to walk from the library to the basement, and when he reached the laboratory nestled in the back, he found the young scientist mumbling about a conundrum whose solution was blinded by Ian’s inability to grasp anything simple or logical.

With Ian being distracted like this, it was easy for Jaxon to sneak behind him and wrap his arms around Ian’s neck, pulling him close, and breaking the scientist from his spell of intense focus. He felt the other tense, likely because he was spooked, but, gradually, his rigid posture relaxed.

Chin on his shoulder, Jaxon’s often stone faced expression broke into what could be considered a warm smile (every fiber of Jaxon’s being was generally very cold) before he whispered teasingly, “What’s the prognosis, Doctor? Am I going to live?”

Ian hid his laughter, but it was very evident in his voice when he replied, “Well, I wish I could give you one, but the tests haven’t been very conclusive.” He pointed at the very complex calculation that was a mess because it was erased several times. “I’ve done this calculation about six times, and I still haven’t gotten anywhere.”

The ghost’s smile dropped as he scanned Ian’s math. Most of it looked like gibberish due to the fact that Jaxon’s studies did, in fact, not include learning how to perform complex equations having to do with Physics and Chemistry. Why, genetics itself was fairly new when he was young. It hadn’t even reached ten years when he was born. These formulae were something completely different, but he noticed the issue with Ian’s math. It was the arithmetic. He managed to mix up two plus two again. Silly Ian. Oh well, he’d bring the error to light later.

“Perhaps you should take a break from all this work. It’ll clear your head a little,” Jaxon suggested. What Jaxon had planned was hardly a break, but a flustered Ian was one of the best to deal with; he was just so undeniably adorable.

Ian often did not argue when his boyfriend asked for him to stop working, and this was no exception.

“I suppose you're right,” Ian said at last.

“I know I'm right, Ian.”

“Wow, at least pretend you weren't.”

“That's not happening.”

Ian's expression broke out into a rather dumb, but over-excited, grin as he turned his head to kiss Jaxon’s cheek. After he had done so, Jaxon pulled away, looking somewhat smug, as he often did when he appeared to be happy. Or he was just being an asshole. Or both. The tehb watched carefully as Ian laid down the notebook on the table where all the cool science was happening. Science he often failed to understand on more than a superficial level, but science nonetheless. After all was said and done, the ghost began to move out of the basement, scientist following him like an adoring puppy.

As they started up the stairs, Jaxon opened the subject: “Do you recall when you told me of the masquerade ball on Atebus?”

“Of course, but I've never been. I just talked about it because it was the sort of thing I suspected you'd be interested in.”

“Well, you were correct. I enjoyed events like this in life. Begrudgingly. I’m afraid the afterlife does not give you much chance to put now-pointless skills to use.”

“I’m glad I was right about something.”

“Yes, and I was thinking that you should take me to one of the annual balls after I am finally able to leave the Manor, and Shadowglen.”

“Jaxon, I can’t dance. I’d be stepping on your toes all the time. We can go as long as we don’t dance. We can just like, drink or something.”

“Ian, I just spent a whole minute expressing that I want to put to use a skill that’s become obsolete in Shadowglen, and you’re telling me that we can’t dance.”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Hm, that’s fine, I suppose I will have to teach you.”

“Jaxon, c’mon- don’t be ridiculous.”

“Is ‘ridiculous’ really a word you would use to describe me, Ian?”

“Of course.”

Jaxon’s lip curled as he opened the door that led into the foyer. While Skelly Manor didn’t show signs of disrepair, the place looked fairly lived in, and several things needed to be replaced. See: the furnace, the wallpaper, some of the piping. He looked to Ian, who walked past him with a some sort of smugness. It was absolutely adorable, but that’s not something he would tell Ian to his face.

“I’ll have you know ‘ridiculous’ was the theme of the times, Ian,” Jaxon started, idly resting an arm around Ian’s shoulder. “Your family’s reputation had to be upheld based on your ability to perform seemingly pointless tasks. There comes a time, though, that a young heir cares not for his family’s reputation.”

Ian did not push for Jaxon to explain what he meant. It was likely he felt that he already knew. The scientist must have believed that Jaxon’s choice to date the scientist above anyone else, and despite the fact that he was wrong, Ian respected his boyfriend’s privacy enough not to press him for information. It was something the ghost could appreciate, seeing as there was so much he felt he could not tell Ian, if only because he had done a poor job at keeping his secrets prior to this point. The only reason Ian was a decent confidant was because he rarely socialized himself, at least, from Jaxon’s perspective.

“I hope you aren’t bent on teaching me how to dance,” Ian said, the look on his face mimicking that of a child who was begging his parents to not put him in sports.

“I’m ‘bent’ on teaching you how to waltz, Ian.”

“Is that not a dance?”

“Touche.”

Jaxon’s hand migrated to hold Ian’s, which he then raised and kissed the fingertips of. “We should start with how you walk onto the dance floor and how you should hold yourself.”

“Okay, but consider the following: I could be drunk during masquerade. Drunk and completely and utterly wrapped up in how much I love you.”

“Oh, but dearest doctor, please consider that maybe I want to dance with you because there is a certain intimacy to dancing that drunkenly slurring out compliments does not provide.”

Ian grumbled something unintelligible, knowing that he had a hard time saying no to things like this. He knew Jaxon enjoyed spending what little time they had together, well, together, and if this is what he wanted to do instead of… cuddling, or something, that was fine (probably), but nonetheless, Jaxon wasn’t going to give Ian the chance to change his mind, as it seemed that he had conceded for now.

Turning his own hand so that Ian’s fingertips lightly touched his palm, he stole a glance at Ian’s face. Grumpy and vaguely nervous, which wasn’t really anything different. To break the tension, he chose to speak again.

“Now, before a man would take a woman onto the dance floor, he would bow to her, she would curtsey, and then he would ask for her hand, but you do not have a skirt to curtsey with, so we can simply skip that step.”

“What are you implying, Jaxon?”

“I don't know. What am I implying?”

Ian’s frown deepened, clearly not impressed with the vagueness, but it wasn’t the ghost’s fault he really had that much of a problem with it. Ian could be so sensitive at times. Jaxon thought it would be better to continue the ‘lesson’ before allowing Ian to dwell. He was about to compliment Ian’s posture, but he found that Ian was slouching.

“Stand up straight, darling, back in my day, you had a reputation to uphold,” he tried to be earnest and warm about his advice, but it was likely it came out as critical and insulting, as was Jaxon’s regular tone of voice. “That is, confidence was everything. If you were slouching, people could easily turn it into what you were doing last night.”

“Jaxon, you and I both know what we were doing last night,” Ian countered, straightening up and standing tall. “And sometimes, with what we do at night, it’s hard to stand up straight.”

“Yes, I do imagine that studying the chemistry between tehb and human is quite bad for your back.”

Ian’s face turned from grumpy to a vaguely shocked, his face flushed. It was as if he didn't expect that at all; he was thinking of the amount of work he'd been doing to bring Jaxon to the physical world for good. Nonetheless, he appeared to be defeated for now; Ian was too busy being embarrassed by walking right into an innuendo.

“The next thing is that we must step in unison. It's a very important component of walking to the floor and the dance itself. Often to the rhythm of the song being played,” the ghost explained. Most of this information flew over Ian's head, but he at least pretended to understand, which Jaxon supposed he could appreciate.

He gently held Ian’s hand as he moved one foot forward. His gaze moved onto Ian, who remained steadfast and almost refused to move. He wondered what he was thinking. He took another step, hoping that would coax Ian to move, and he did, but only a baby step. Ian's face reflected mischief. Ah, he was just trying to be annoying. That was fine, he could be annoying right back if he wanted to.

And he did; his lips parted into a smirk, clearly amused with Ian’s display.

“Why, Ian,” Jaxon started. “If you didn’t want to learn to waltz that badly I could simply teach you to tango.”

“You’ve already taught me how to tango.”

“Why, Ian, you naughty boy.” Jaxon moved his free hand to lightly smack Ian’s cheeks. It wasn’t meant to be painful, but Ian flinched anyway, his face turning scarlet out of embarrassment.

He figured Ian was flustered enough. Perhaps he would actually focus. In fact, he was right. Ian took another step forward, and they were in line. The look on his face continued to be less than pleased, however. His mouth was tightened into a thin line to exemplify his disdain; it was actually kind of cute. It was a thing Jaxon could tease the other about later.

Another step, and another. Ian lagging behind Jaxon. It was very clear that Ian, brilliant as he may be, lacked advanced coordination. He was clumsy. His failure to be happy about complying likely added to his clumsy way of movement, but as they reached the center of the foyer, his rigid posture softened.

Jaxon's free hand fell to Ian's as he pulled the scientist’s hand up to his shoulder and placed his own hand on Ian's waist. As soon as everything was in order, Ian dropped his hand, earning a somewhat cross look from Jaxon. Ian returned his boyfriend's look of irritation with a look of barely retained smugness. Perhaps Ian wasn’t finished being a little shit. Okay, he could deal with this. He could be doing a lot worse.

Putting Ian’s hand back on his shoulder, the ghost decided to further elaborate. “Now that we have our posture taken care of, we must understand how our feet move and when they move. Usually, our feet move to the eighth notes of a song, and we count, one-two-three-four, et cetera, up until eight. So each phrase-” He cast a glance at Ian’s face. Unadulterated confusion. “I forget you’re more of a tactile learner. Let’s just get started, yes?”

“The sooner it’s done, the better. I want to do something other than embarrass myself, okay?”

“It’s not an embarrassment; I was the same way in my youth.”

“In your youth. I’m almost thirty Jaxon.”

“In my day, thirteen was thirty.”

“Don’t even.”

Jaxon looked as if he was going to laugh, but he managed to avoid it, the laughter visible in his eyes as he gave Ian a look of mischief, lip curled into a smile. A rare, fleeting one. Little things that were for Ian’s eyes only.

“Now,” Jaxon started again, taking a step backwards. “It starts with four steps to the back.” With this, Ian made an attempt to take four steps backward, too. “Let me lead, Ian, you have no idea what you’re doing.”

“You said four steps to the back. I’m just doing what you told me to do.”

“Four steps to the back for me, you’re meant to follow.”

“So four steps forward.”

“Yes.”

there i hope you had fun because this isn’t getting done, ever.

[asmodrabble]

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