Adult, nothing NSFW here, so minors can feel free to follow, but no DM's if you're not an adult please. Otherwise feel free to bug me. Ask box is almost always open, but I don’t always get to all the asks. I’d rather not write for something than write it badly. I like a lot of things, so feel free to ask for whatever you’re into.I’ve had this page for like ten years, so be warned that there might be some teenage cringe if you dig too far :p
Hi! Welcome to my horrid, little page! This is where I put a lot of the things that I write. No real theme. Just stuff I like. A bit slow going at the moment, but not totally dead.
The ask box is open :)
Other fan pages I run
vampire-the-askerade (specifically for my Vampire/World of Darkness stuff[more so Vampire than WoD])
b-roth-bad-thoughts (NSFW page. 18+ only please. I don't get to this one as much though)(currently not writing for)
zenni-gotcha (specifically for Lupin III things)
Also be sure to check out my own original story, Cupid Park over here
[Just something I did for fun. Finally able to get myself to sit down and write something again. As usual, there might be some typos here and there. The reader is written gender neutral. There are a few pet names in this, but I feel like they would use them no matter who they were talking to.]
[Warnings- Boys being possessive, reader isn’t totally against it, just flustered.]
There was finally a break in everything. And, when you said everything, you meant it. Life hadn’t been bad lately; there had been plenty of good things, in fact. What life had been was busy. You felt like you had been going on circles for almost a month now. But, finally, finally, you were able to stop, breathe, and take time for yourself.
You decided to spend your first day off in forever down at the boardwalk. It was nice to look at the ocean while the sun was setting, but that was also your clue that you had been there for a decent chunk of the day, and should start heading back home. You were comfortable enough in Santa Carla that you didn’t worry about living there, but it was typically better to not walk alone at night no matter where you were.
The darker the sky got on your way back across the beach, the more the filament lights of the boardwalk started to replace the leaving sun. While you were still trying to be sure that you weren’t walking while it was too dark out, you also decided that it wouldn’t hurt to take a detour through the midway. While there were always people around, the walk ways were certainly starting to fill in now. You were going against the main flow of things, which lead to you weaving your way in and out of the crowd. Right as you were about to reach the exit, you bumped into someone.
You were about to apologize, but before you could, you heard a laugh.
“Heading the wrong way, sweetheart,” someone teased.
Looking up from your feet after getting your balance, you saw Paul. To be honest, this was the only place that you ever saw him, or the other guys in his group; because of that you weren’t quite sure if you would call them actual friends, or simply people that you were friendly with. Either way, you knew him well enough to know that he probably saw you and bumped into you on purpose.
“Hey! It’s been awhile.” You greeted.
“You’re damn right it’s been,” Paul put on a very theatrical pout that wasn’t all fake.
Shaking your head like an exhausted parent, you huff, “Sorry, life just ran away on me.”
There was suddenly an arm wrapped around your shoulders, fingerless gloves giving free reign to lightly scratch fingernails across your arm when it was given a squeeze.
“Maybe you should let us run away with you instead,” the curls that caught the corner of your vision let you know the person getting up close and personal with you was Marko. “Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in forever!”
“I told you: I’ve been busy,” you reminded, “What are you guys doing here, anyway? Weren’t you kicked out?”
Both of them got a laugh out of the question. It seemed to genuinely make them smile, but there was something almost unsettling about the tone of it. “Oh, more times than we can count,” Paul snorted.
“For one reason or another it just doesn’t stick,” Marko added impishly. Just as he was finishing the thought something caught his attention. “Hey, Paully,” he hummed with the same tone that kids use when they’re about to get someone in trouble, “Look-y what found!” Marco’s hand moved up to pinch your cheek playfully.
“Lookin’ a little rosy, there. Did you really miss us that much, or do you always blush this easy?” Paul teased and leaned in closer.
While you would never admit it, between being so close to both of them and getting teased, you were starting to blush. But, you knew that they would feed off of that for the rest of your life, so you played it off like it didn’t matter. Untangling yourself from Marko’s hold and putting some space between the two of them and yourself, you dismissed their claim with, “I’ve been out for a while. That’s probably just sunburn.”
Both of them tutted at your response. “Gotta be careful with stuff like that,” Marko replied in a way that let you know he absolutely didn’t buy it.
“Don’t we know it,” Paul chimed in. “You wouldn’t believe how fast we burn in-“
“Paul.”
David’s voice didn’t need to be raised for it to catch all of your attention. He had a way of setting a more intense tone by being firm and frigid, literally freezing people in place. There was a sharp nod of his toward a less populated area nearby; Paul followed quickly despite there being some sort of hesitation on his eyes.
A hand was placed on your shoulder, this time gently leading you in the opposite direction of the two that just walked away, “Don’t worry about it,” Dwayne said when he saw you looking after Paul, “He’ll get an earful for showing off- maybe a slap on the wrist- that’s all.”
“Really? For showing off? Isn’t that, like, what you four are known for,” you laughed nervously, still not too sure if Paul would get off that easy, or what he was getting chewed out for in the first place.
“We do other stuff,” He chuckled, “There’s a time a place for things, too.” Once the two of you were well away from the main path, something changed in his eyes. It was an odd mixture of soft, yet laser focused in some way. “Can’t blame them, though. It has been awhile.”
You were really starting to rethink how you and the boys knew each other. You thought they just liked to hang out with you if you ran into each other, but seeing how clingy three out of the four of them had been this evening, you were wondering if they wanted, or already thought that you were part of the gang. The idea didn’t sound all bad; that was something that concerned you. While they had never done anything more than tease you, you also weren’t ignorant to how most other people knew them. You weren’t exaggerating when you thought of them as a gang.
As things were, you didn’t know how to process any of this. So, you tried to excuse yourself. “We’ll have to catch up sometime. You guys actually caught me on my way out. I’ve been here awhile, so I might-“
“Go? Without saying, ‘Hi,’? Who taught you manners?”
You weren’t sure when David got here. It was a wonder that he was able to move that silently in boots. The thing that really got you was the fact that he looked down right cheery. How he was able to go from dark and brooding to having a playful smile and devious glint in his eye at the drop of a pin made your head spin. He knew that he had this effect on people, and took full advantage of it.
You went to say something, but he cut you off, “You had the others worried. Thought you had forgot about us.” There were two unsaid things in this statement, “I missed you too,” and, “This better not happen again.”
With a huff, you went to turn and walk away, only to see Dwayne was still behind you. Looking from side to side, you noticed that Marko and Paul had stood at each direction. The four of them weren’t crowding you enough that you felt boxed in, but they were certainly close enough to feel like the five of you were the only people at the boardwalk.
“Look,” you cleared your throat nervously, “I’m sorry if I upset you guys. I didn’t know you were looking for me, or something, but-“
“An apology? Isn’t that sweet,” Paul teased.
“Is it just me, or is that sunburn getting worse? Looks like it’s all the way up to your ears now,” Marko laughed.
“Easy, you two,” Dwayne chuckled, “don’t scare them away again.”
David looked both amused and exhausted by his cohorts. “I think what the boys are trying to say is that we all want to have you around more.” He gently lifted your chin to be sure you were focused on him. “What do you think?”
There were many started then quickly stopped words from you. Finally, you settled on, “I don’t know what to think!”
“Well, neither does Paul most of the time, but we still keep him around,” there was a laugh from Marko and Dwayne.
“Hey, up your’s, man!” Paul snapped at Marko.
David pulled the conversation back to where it was. “No pressure,” he said calmly; it was the same type of, “no pressure,” that you used to get on timed exams in school back in the day.
“Aw, look,” Dwayne said as he pulled you closer to him, but also walked back so you felt like you were getting air again, “We spooked the poor thing.”
“Not twistin’ your arm or anything,” Marko chimed in, “we just missed you.”
While he didn’t say anything, Dwayne hummed in agreement as he pulled you closer.
“Hey, not fair,” Paul fussed at the scene, “When’s it gonna be my turn?”
“Paul,” David warned again, but lighter this time. He looked back to you and gave his well-known, crooked grin, “I’m sure even after being out the whole day, they can stay out a bit longer.” His gaze turned undeniably possessive ask he asked in an overly saccharin tone, “You can do that for us, can’t you?”
[So, the next few chapters might take a bit longer to get here because I'm going to be doing some actual rewriting instead of just polishing up stuff. As always, thanks for reading :) ]
← ch. 2
To say the Stormveil Castle was a horrible prize from all of the trouble you had gone through to get there would be an understatement. It started similarly to many of the other places that you had traveled to since you had woken up in the Lands Between. It didn’t take long, however, for you to find more than one thing that Rodricka could have been talking about when talking about, “the spider.”
Grafting was a nasty business. It was almost impossible to explain the creatures that you saw in there, other than a horrific mass of limbs. The worst, by far, was the lord of the castle, Godrick. While the others that almost seemed to be mindless bundles of body parts that were acting on instinct, Godrick had a mind of his own; a mind that he was actively losing, if he hadn’t already. But, with the help with trusty Aurelia, he actually didn’t give you too much trouble. At least he wasn’t mentally as draining as Margit was.
Once you had gotten the Great Rune from defeating Godrick, your first order of business was to take the memento you had found from her people that had gone up to the castle without her. You were happy to give her closure, but especially to have her decide to go to the Roundtable Hold and not get herself grafted. She would be safe there, at least for the current time, so the was certainly an ease to your mind. You wouldn’t have let her go through with the grafting even if she decided to try it, but you were thankful you didn’t even need to stop her in the first place.
While at the hold, you received a lengthy lecture from Sir Gideon, and an even lengthier lecture from the Two Fingers; the latter was relayed very slowly through one of their Finger Maidens, the elderly woman sounding winded after every few words. When you were ready to head out on your travels again, you most felt the pull to go to the Atlus Plateau. Sir Gideon had said the lord here was Morgott the Veiled King, who dwelled in the capital city.
Perhaps it was because the name reminded you of a certain omen that you wouldn’t mind to beat again after all of the grief that he had given you. But, you did also know that if Margit and Godrick were considered to be on the lower end of the power spectrum, then the other lords weren’t people to go against without plenty of work leading up to them. There was also the thought that if this Morgott was the king of the capital city itself, the he must have been one of the most powerful of all of them. Still, there was that ever present pull of the Golden Grace within your soul, this still felt like it was the right place to be.
You couldn’t complain about it either. The soft, ever present glow of the Erdtree and its falling leaves shined beautifully off of the soft grass and white birch trees that covered the plains you rode your faithful Torrent across. Things were so peaceful here. It was almost difficult to think of finding things that wanted to harmed you; though, this was still the Lands Between, and you were well aware that threats were still everywhere. Still, there was this odd feeling that you were supposed to find something here, like you were supposed to be here. Though, even with this feeling, you were none the wiser on what it was supposed to be. It would certainly be convenient if the Great Will would tell you what you needed to do specifically instead of leaving you guessing.
After you had traveled the Atlus Plateau for about a day, you noticed that you had entered a more wooded area. There was more of a gloom to this place, and the ticker the trees got, the more on edge you became. Darting your eyes from side to side to try to keep tabs on your surroundings, you kept getting the feeling that something was now following you. While you had your head turned, there was suddenly the sound of snapping twigs and creaking wood in front of you. Faster than you could react, something swung at you, knocking you onto the ground and making poor Torrent vanish to dodge the attack.
While you were trying to push yourself up off of the muddy ground, damp leaves making your hands slip the whole time, there was a horrible sound that resembled the shriek of a person and the squeal of a pig tore through the air. A figure emerged, seemingly out of one of the trees, and started shambling toward you. You managed to get yourself up, but another screech rang out from behind you. You dodged a swipe from the creature in front of you. Before you could get your weapon out, more shuffling and shrieking started to come from all sides. Then these creatures started heaving and spewing out a pitch colored, smoke-like substance. It swallows you almost instantly, making your eyes burn and your chest heave violently with violent coughs. Though you weren’t sure of the exact ending of being in this miasma, you knew that the immediate result was keeping you from protecting yourself. There had to be another attack, or many, coming at you any second, and you were too incapacitated to do anything about it.
Even with the efforts you were making to escape it felt like there were these tree creatures and the assault on your senses were everywhere you turned; there could have been even more than your stinging eyes and clouded vision was allowing you to see. Just as it seemed that there was nothing that could be done for you, something grabbed the back of your shirt and lifted you like grabbing a cat by its scruff. The next feeling that came almost felt like you were flying. You weren’t sure that whatever, or possibly whoever was spiriting you away was necessarily friendly, but for the moment you didn’t care. You were getting out of the forest and away from whatever those creatures were. Just as you were starting to wonder how far you were going to be taken, you were sat down on a somewhat rocky patch of ground.
“I don’t know what you want with-“ you started to say to the other party who just sat you down before you were slightly lifted again, just to be shoved and held face first into a body of cold water. You were pulled out a few moments later and flipped over. Before you could anything else, you were shoved back into the water with a yelp, this time face up. Your hands shot up to grip at whatever was holding you down. Your heart felt like it dropped to your stomach when you felt an arm- an arm that had thick, fur-like hair that you had only known one person to have. This had to be an omen. Once the flowing water had cleared your eyes and you saw exactly what omen it was, you let out a frustrated scream; anger filled bubbles carrying muffled curses at your target.
“ ‘Tis a fine way to drown thyself, Fool Tarnished,” Margit snorted as he lifted you and unceremoniously dropped you on the ground.
“If you wanted me drowned,” you coughed and sputtered, “you were doing a fine enough job without my help!”
“If I desired thee drowned, thou wouldst not have the breath to accuse me of such. Of this fact we are both aware.”
“So, then, why didn’t you?” You questioned.
There was little more than a silent glare from him as you stood and gave yourself more space. Still being riled up by everything that had just happened, you, rather unwisely, continued, “What about what you said when we last met? I believe you mentioned something about how you would, ‘brook me no quarter.’” The last bit was said in dramatic interpretation of his voice, which he obviously scowled at.
Margit placed both his hands on the top of his staff and leaned his weight onto it. “Odd as it may seem to thee, there is honor to be found in these lands,” though he kept his scowl, his visible eye betrayed a glint of mischief, “Little of that honor could be found in fighting one with the countenance of a half-drowned rat.”
You were tired- physically, mentally, emotionally- and being around him certainly wasn’t helping. You decided to sit on the ground, practically throwing yourself down. What was he going to do? Try to kill you? You knew that if he wanted to, there was no stopping him with the shape you were in right now; at least that would afford you a trip back to a site of Grace. You gave a defeated sigh. “You know, Margit,” you started as you looked up at the golden leaves fluttering through the air, “I think I just realized why you feel such a need to degrade people. Your own self worth must be rather low. At least that would make sense of why you’re so insistent on making yourself seem like you’re more important; even if it’s just to a ‘lowly tarnished,’ like me.”
Margit’s face took a dark look; brooding enough that even though you couldn’t see you, you definitely felt the burn of his gaze on you. “It would do thee well to hold thy tongue concerning things of which thou’rt ignorant of,” the almost primal growl the words came with sent a chill into the air that then ran down your spine.
Still, you were too tired to heed warnings, either from omens or your own senses, so you chuckled dryly and continued. “Oh, so you have the privilege to speak your mind whenever and to whoever you want, but when someone turns that attitude back on you they’re taking things too far?” It wasn’t an angry yell that left your mouth, but something much more accusatory than volume could ever send.
There was the crunching of gravel as Margit walked closer to you. He glowered down at you, both of you holding that look as you both thought of ways of getting back at each other. Why there were no actual blows traded, neither of you could say. The longer you both looked at each other, the more it seemed that Margit was looking for something in your features. Just as your face softened as you started your ponder what he could possibly be looking for, you were being lifted by the collar of your shirt and flung back toward the river.
Little did Margit know that you were just close enough to him that when you felt yourself about to go flying, you were able to reach out and grab the collar of his cloak. The momentum of your body being throw was enough to cause you to pull him into the frigid water with you.
Between the suddenness of being tossed a the cold of the water, you were a bit panicked as you flailed to stand in the water. Once you had, you found everything below your mid-chest was still in the water. Margit who was also regaining his balance, was fairing a bit better than you were with his waist and higher being above the cold current. The two of you watched each other once more, though this time in bewilderment on what to do from here. You were the one that answered that question; you started to laugh.
“We are quite that pair, aren’t we?” You teased as you started to make your way out of the river. Margit stayed where he was, not even making the slightest move or acknowledgment of you or what you had said. Once you were out of the river, you reached out your hand to help him out. The only thing that was more surprising than this action, was the one that followed it; Margit, after a few hesitant moments, took your hand in his, accepting your offer of help.
You must have been getting too off course or something of the sort, because as you were helping Margit out of the water, the pull that Grace would administer when you were meant to do something almost felt like it was practically burning your soul. Though, as usual, you didn’t know exactly what it meant. It simply felt like there was warmth all over you. It wasn’t until you felt Margit’s hand completely enveloped yours as he slightly squeezed it that you snapped back to the world around you.
“Why?” Margit asked. Neither of you knew if there was a single question or too many questions to count implied in the single word. There was something odd happening, and both Margit and yourself were struggling to make sense of it. As you both realize that your hands were still in each other’s, you moved yours to your side and landed on the answer, “Well, it would do you no good to stay in the water. Not when it’s that cold.”
There was a single chuckle that more so hitched Margit’s chest then made a sound before he replied, “And, my health is of concern to thee? Were it such the case when that creature of thine assailed me with its vile substances!”
There was a scoff that was made purposefully clear in his voice. It would make sense that even if Aurelia didn’t deal lasting damage, her poison probably didn’t have the most pleasant effects on one’s body. A verbal apology wasn’t given though; simply a sympathetic look. It did happen while the two of you were fighting each other tooth and nail. The next moment you whistled to summon Torrent. The pull to find what you were supposed to do was starting to become a bit too intense to be comfortable.
“Hast thou something pressing, Tarnished?” Margit jeered as you mounted onto Torrent’s back.
“Yes, actually,” you replied in kind, “finding somewhere that you can’t bother me.”
“ ‘Tis a difficult task thou hast given thyself. Thou shalt be hard pressed to find the rare place that I cannot be at readily,” Margit responded after he shook some of the moisture from his snowy hair.
You rolled your eyes at the declaration. There was no way that could really be true… could it? In any case you were going on your way. “Don’t you have things that you need to tend to as well? I’m sure that if you’re here the you have something to do to help Lord Morgott.”
“Something of the like,” he grunted back, his emotions on the topic unreadable.
“Well, then, I hope the good Lord makes you as miserable as you like to make me!” You called back as you started to ride away.
[not much to say for this one. Just thanks again for reading :) ]
←Ch 1
You were proud of the effort that you had made, and the results that effort had given you. After you were reawakened on Stormhill, you didn’t have the energy to anything other than stay alive for the next few days. You, being as stubborn as ever were planning on being on your way a few hours after waking up, but Rodricka had insisted that you be still.
Though she always insisted that there wasn’t anything special about her, she was missing the fact that she was one of the kindest people in the Lands Between. Given how ruthless of a place this could be that was no small feat. Any time that you had tried to tell her this she denied it was true, using the fact that all that those she came with had sacrificed themselves for her and she couldn’t even bring herself to get to Stormveil’s entrance. All explanations from you about how she was simply following her instincts and being wise about the whole situation fell on deaf ears; even when you told her that the most daring of people would dread going somewhere with something called, “the spider,” that stole your limbs.
If there was one good thing that you could attribute to that beast Margit it was that fact that him being in the bridge to Stormveil meant that Rodricka wasn’t going to get there anytime soon. The poor woman was startled of the slightest noise; there was no way she was going to risk going against an Omen twice her size. You were thankful for that much.
Before you actually went on your way back down Stormhill, Rodricka handed you something. “These are spirit ashes. The one it summons is named Aurelia. She would be much more suited to travel with a brave soul like you than stay with one as craven as myself.” She said as she made sure you had taken the small box and placed it in your bag. “And, perhaps it would do you well to have the help with you when next you start a fight with the guardian of the castle. Your poor body might thank you.”
Usually, a remark like that would sting your pride- it still did to an extent- but it was good to see Rodricka coming out of her shell enough to tease you like that. After expressing that you wouldn’t be able to thank her enough for everything she had done for you, you called Torrent and started your travels once more.
What you weren’t expecting was to become so connected with your new companion. You found yourself summoning Aurelia whenever the opportunity showed itself, even when there wasn’t something to battle. The way that she would float and turn through the air was very peaceful. And, it seemed the feeling was mutual with you, as she would often bump the top of her head into you. She was especially brush up against the palm of your hand in order to ask for a pet or two.
The two of you made your way here and there all over Limbgrave and even to the edges of the surrounding areas. You would have to be certain to update your map to be certain of the new places you had found. There were some that were so hidden that finding them was certainly an accomplishment. At the moment, you were exploring a cave that you had only found because a ghost had happened to appear in front of you and limp its way over to the opening. Things were going well, nothing to complain about other than a few rats, but that didn’t last. The one thing to do to be sure that things would go wrong was to think about a how well they were. The ground you were standing on suddenly crumbled, sending you plummeting down into another chamber of the cave. As soon as you could see through the dust of the still falling rubble, you were looking at an equally startled and very angry rune bear.
As you were apt to do in recent fights, you were quickly to retrieve your bell and summon Aurelia. While, even with how dear the creature had become to you, you were trying to not become too reliant on the spectral jellyfish, a time like this certainly wasn’t the time for experimentation. Aurelia had scarily appeared before you had to dodge out of the path from the beast charging your way. There were plenty of swipes from the bear that tore cloth and would have torn skin were you not wearing battle gear. It was a tense scuffle, but between you landing some very good hits and Aurelia spraying a few good shots of poison, you eventually felled the hulking animal.
As you stood, catching your breath, Aurelia nudged into your hand, pulling you back to your current surroundings. Looking down at the animal on the ground in front of you, you couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. “You know, this bear reminds me of another beast that I still need to fight,” you gave a few strokes to her soft, almost clay-like head, “I think with your help, I might just be able to accomplish that goal.”
~
The very next thing you did was to make your way back to Stormhill. After stopping back by the shack to be sure Rodricka was still holding up as best she could, you made your way to the castleward tunnel without any other delay. There was a long few moments of you steadying your nerves. It had to be the fact that you felt that you could actually defeat the Fell Omen. There were also flashes of just how easily he was able to manhandle you when you last faced him. This made your heart feel like it was about to beat out of your chest. There must have been a bit more embarrassment from the situation than you thought you felt. That certainly had to be it; who wouldn’t get worked up when being treated so dismissively during a fight? Not wanting to give yourself anymore time to second guess yourself, you pushed through the fog gate.
This time, Margit was stationed at his usual place across the path at the other archway. Though he was a bit too far to see his expression, but the slight slump his shoulders took told you that he just gave a sigh, most likely in exasperation.
“I had hoped, in vain, that I had finally rid myself of thee and thy childish games. There art more pressing things my time could be given to, Tarnished.” Margit growled as he readied his stance.
“If that is that case, then why don’t you simply let me through and leave?” You jeered, readying yourself as well, yet standing your ground where you were.
Margit gave a frustrated snort and pointed his staff at yo accusingly, “I stay because if there is something to be certain of, it would be thy return. Life hath decreed my misery and hath crowned thee its conduit!”
Without another word, Margit leaped into the air with the sole purpose of slamming down onto you. You deftly dodged at the last second, lading a hit on him before he was able to turn around to face you. He reacted to this by swiping his tail and knocking you onto your back. You were able quickly regain your senses and roll out of the way a moment before his staff slammed so hard that the tip of it dug into the ground. As quickly as you could, you put as much distance between the two of you that you could mange.
“Well! It seems even thou’rt able to apply effort when pushed. Impressive for one so lowly!” Margit taunted as he prepared another attack.
“Careful,” you retort before stepping out of the way of his next swing, and landing one of your own, “I might start to think you’re becoming fond of me.”
Margit did not respond quite as quickly as you thought he might have; this caught you off guard. You quickly shook the feeling off. I had to be because you had just struck him and he was taking a moment. The feeling was shaken soon enough as you were struck with his staff which sent you tumbling across the ground.
“Fie! The show of effort on thy part, no matter how menial, hath simply surprised me,” he grunted back before resuming the fight.
Things were much more even than they had been before. And, while you were proud of yourself for making this much progress, you knew that you were reaching your limit, and couldn’t hold out much longer. Knowing this, you gave yourself some space so that you would have time to retrieve the bell from your bag. While Margit certifiably had more endurance than you, the tide could still be turned with a little help; Aurelia was just the spirit to have that job.
Margit backed away when there was a slight flash of light as he didn’t know what you were doing. When he saw Aurelia appear, he scoffed. “So, it seems that we art in agreement on a single thing; thou art so lacking in skill that it is necessary for thee to cry for help.”
“I could defeat you easily!” You snap as you ready your weapon again, “I’m simply trying to make this go faster so I don’t have to look at you any longer!”
“Defeat me?” He was incredulous, “The only way a creature such as thyself could ever defeat-“
Margit was cut off by a sudden blast of venom blasting him directly in the face. It didn’t seem like he was even poisoned by it, but it certainly staggered him. Wiping his face with a growl, Margit raised his staff once more. This time, however, he charged Aurelia. She tried to glide out of the way, yet wasn’t quite quick enough. Even though you knew she was tough, the strike still looked like it would hurt a lot. You were always more urged to fight when it was for other people and not yourself; seeing how this was for one that was so important to you, it really started a fire in you.
“Leave her alone, you brute!” You yelled as you charged at him, landing a well place blow on his back.
Margit cried out in pain. The victory was extremely short lived as before the sound had even finished leaving his mouth, you had found yourself knocked to the ground, and the dull sunlight through the clouds was blocked out even more by the face of a furious omen.
“Thou must think thyself clever,” Margit snarled, his voice more graveled than usual, almost strained.
“What is bothering you? Was Margit the Fell bested by a worthless tarnished?” You huffed at him.
His large hand was suddenly around your throat; it covered so much area that the smallest of his fingers was moreso resting on your collarbones. Any other words you might have thrown at him were cut off by the pressure applied to your throat. “Enough of thy child’s play!” He barked, the boom of his voice ringing in your ears.
Margit could see that you were trying to say something between your wheezing breaths. He almost ignored it in favor of a moment of quiet, but curiosity got the better of him. His hand released some of its pressure and he leaned a bit closer to hear what you were gasping out.
“Better a child than an old codger!” You hissed, “One hit to the back and you can’t even move-“
There was a return of pressure from his hand. “I believe I have an understanding of thy true desire,” he didn’t laugh this time, but there was certainly a smirk on his face, “Thou needest to be reminded of thy status. To be returned to thy rightful place, to know how lowly thou truly art.
Another pained cry rang out as Margit turned to rush at Aurelia once more. Though you were still trying to gain your bearings as well as the air in your lungs, you noticed a pink dash across the back of Margit’s arm; she must have stung him with one of her tendrils. Even with your vision still hazy and your lungs and throat still burning, you picked up your weapon and flung yourself at Margit, swinging as hard as you could.
When your vision started to clear it was met with a golden light shining around the omen in front of you, making his golden eyes almost glimmer as they watched you with an indecipherable look. As the light overtook him, he started to speak, his voice sounding as it came from all around you.
“I shall remember thee, Tarnished. Smoldering with thy meager flame.” Margit’s gaze stayed fixed on you as he faded completely, yet his voice somehow lingered, “Cower in fear of the night. The hand of the Fell Omen shall brook thee no quarter.”
Once you were sure that you were alone, you fell to the ground, leaning yourself so that you were sitting with your back resting on some of the debris that littered the pathway. The state of your mind was chaotic to say the least. The predominant feeling was relief that this fight was finally over. And, yet, Margit did just say that he would hunt you down in some way. You weren’t sure how or how soon he would enact this, you just hopped you gave him enough trouble this past round that he would give it a decent amount of time. This must have been how he felt waiting for him, now that you think of it. Perhaps not exactly, but similar still. Whatever the case, him deciding that you were no longer worth his time or him sprinting your direction this very moment out of rage, you still just needed this moment just to breathe.
A familiar, soft feeling brushed onto your cheek, causing you to open your eyes you were just realizing you closed. The soft, blue glow of Aurelia soothed the thoughts that were bombarding you. Reaching up, you pat her on the head a few times, her soft skin cooling your overheated hands. “You, my dear jellyfish, are one of the best things to happen to me,” you laughed before letting your body rest completely.
[Hi there! A few house keeping things for this first one. Firstly, yes, this is a rework of the Morgott series I wrote awhile back. I will do my best to make the titles look different and put links to next and previous chapters in this version so things don't get jumbled. Secondly, I am dyslexic, so even if these are checked, it's very possible things will be missed. Those will just be fun to laugh at, I guess, haha. Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it :) ]
Ch 2 →
Once again you woke to the howling of the wind through Castleword Tunnel. The tones that wind took on a demeaning tone as your body ached in almost every way possible. For once in your life you wished that you could wake up somewhere pleasant; but, alas, that was not the life that was chosen for the Tarnished called by Grace.
“Called by Grace…” an odd sayings as there was certainly very little in the Lands Between that could be considered gracious. You and the others that were called to follow the will of The Two Fingers were spared the icy hands of death, at least permanently, that still didn’t take away the aches and bruising from the quick healing one got when waking at the Sights of Grace. And, you certainly had plenty of both ailments with the many times you had tried and failed to best the beast guarding the way to Stormveil Castle- Margit the Fell.
As Margit had stated when you had first encountered him all those months ago when first approaching the castle, he has dedicated himself to not only protecting the hold behind him, but most importantly stopping your ambitions of fighting across the Lands Between. While he had succeeded with the first of his endeavors, the second was still far from accomplished. For every defeat he dealt, the more stubborn and driven you became.
While you were tempted to rest your aching body for a few days and then train for a week to try to better yourself, you settled on resting a few minutes and heading back to face Margit once more. There was something in your very soul that felt like it was pulling back to the fight. This would be your fourth time fighting him today- you were certain he must have been as tired as you were of this whole song-and-dace you have both been doing- and yet you were trudging up to and through the fog gate in the decorative yet crumbling archway once more.
Oddly, you saw nothing. There was not Omen rushing toward you, staff raised to strike, nor was there any magic bolts to dodge away from. Before you had time to question this change of events, however, you were quickly and roughly struck from behind. You were only able to flip over onto your back before you were pinned by an unpleasantly familiar staff was used to pin you roughly onto the ground.
“Many a Tarnished hath wandered this path in my years, yet thou hast proved to be the most bothersome I have encountered in over a century!” Margit snarled, his grip of either side of the staff tightening to the point where the wood started to creak. “Even now, after thou hast tasted defeat from mine hands many times this very day, thou still art insistent upon challenging me. For what purpose? Thy fragile body barely hath the strength to even stand!”
If you had the energy, or the wherewithal to care, you would have notice that there was a note of disgust in his voice; yet, the daze of having the air knocked from your lungs and the general stubbornness that filled you made the sentiment miss you almost entirely. With not much else to do at the moment, you hissed out the feelings that rang constantly in your mind.
“I have to get Stormveil Castle. I will get to Stormveil! I will regardless if you wish me to or not! I will continue to fight until-“
You were cut off by a wheezing breath leaving you as Margit’s staff suddenly pressed harder onto your chest, certainly to the point of bruising.
“Fight? What thou hast inflicted upon me is more akin to a ratting dog biting at one’s ankles.” Margit taunted before leaning his face lower, his better eye being sure to gaze into yours. “What victory is there to be found in that?”
You met his dismissive gaze unwaveringly. “Bite someone’s ankles enough and they’re still bound to bleed out at some point.”
This reply seemed to at least somewhat amuse him as he remove his staff and moved away from you, seemingly humoring you with the idea of another round of fighting. Margit wasn’t worried about you attacking him; it was something that he was more than aware at this point was going to occur when you and he were in the same place. He was also acutely aware of the fact that you were certainly not actually capable of facing him truly at the moment; the fact that you weren’t at least tempted to try to push his staff off your body was a clear indication.
“Thou hast proven thyself rather remarkable. A true representation of all tarnished. Swarming others’ homes and belongings with wonton abandon.” There was a snort to his words as he turned from you to walk away, dismissing you as any form of threat. “Yet, what else could be expected of vermin?”
This gave you new found vigor and you growled as you stood back up, “Vermin? Is that what we really are, or are you simply royalty?” Catching your breath you solidified your stance on the ground, “All the lords and ladies, their knights, and even their servants want for little, often nothing.” Your hand made its way to your weapon to ready it, but your anger bubbled over and you couldn’t keep your thoughts at bay, “Yet, when those of us outside of the walls and holds seek out anything other than the lives we live and the little else we have been afforded, we are called selfish, vile- vermin!”
A bolt of magic suddenly zipped so close to your head that it singed your hair before hitting the wall of the archway behind you with a deafening bang. It was certainly a warning shot as you both knew Margit’s aim was immaculate. In the blink of an eye, he was suddenly next to you once more, this time using a large, powerful hand to pin you by the throat to the stone wall of the archway.
“Speak not of the trials of life to me, Tarnished!” Margit growled, “Mine eyes have seen more tribulations than thou hast experienced in thine lifetime!” His hold tightened to emphasize his anger.
Not being deterred by his threatening, you tried to pry his hold from your neck. “Then you are worse than the others!” You gasped out. “Knowing what it’s like to fight for your life, and inflicting the same suffering onto others!”
Margit lifted you off of the ground and yelled, “Thou knowest nothing of my past!”
“And, I do not need to!” You rebuffed, “Your current actions are doing well enough at showing the type of person that you are!”
This almost seemed to take him aback, an almost stunned look coming across his hardened features and his hold loosening a bit; not enough to drop you, but enough to let you take something closer to a proper breath. “I do not believe any mortal soul hath ever contained the gall to speak to me in the manner that thou hast.”
“Then allow me to say that I am more than happy to make up for their lost opportunities!” You snapped back.
The thing that followed was so unexpected that it was almost more frightening than the burst of rage you were just faced with; Margit started to laugh.
The ever stoic, ever serious, battle ready, Omen that always wore expressions harder than marble was laughing. The situation was so unbelievable that you wondered if you had gone without breathing longer than you thought and were now hallucinating from lightheadedness.
“Thou’rt certainly a remarkable specimen! Mayhaps I shall keep thee alive simply for entertainment, Tarnished.” The last word was given enough venom that you knew even though he seemed to be in a lighter mood, you should never forget how dangerous he was. You were dropped to the ground, landing and falling back with a thud. “Be on thy way this time. Train once more and kindle the flame burning in thine soul; if only to allow me a few days of peace from thy ankle-biting.”
You had hardly stood up when a sweep of his mighty tail sent you careening off the ledge of the cliff side this path was on. You saw nothing but the clouded sky as the air from your descent whipped past you. There was a sharp pain along your back before everything snapped to black.
When a golden light pulled you to consciousness once more, you wished it hadn’t. Your body hurt so much. It almost seemed impossible to move even a finger. The only thing you were permitted to do by the pain was to moan out the sound of your predicament. It seemed like it would take you a few days to a week to even recover from this, much less train.
“Grace show mercy!” You heard a small voice gasp; soon Rodricka came into view. It was only then that you noticed you were still looking at clouds and not the masonry of the tunnel. It seems The Golden Grace saw it fit to move you all the way back to the shack on Stormhill. “Are you alright?” Rodricka questioned as she knelt by you.
It seemed that even the powers that be decided you needed to have some distance between you and the Fell Omen. However, you were stubborn enough to not listen to reason, no matter who that reason came from. You would bide your time and hone your skills until you could challenge Margit the Fell once more.
Guess who's back again, hopefully for a bit more this time. You know how life is 😬
Anyways, I'm planning on getting started with a rewrite of the Morgott x reader series
I was thinking maybe I shouldn't because it wasn't that long ago, then I checked the posted date and it was like four years ago (groans in old person 🧓🏼). But, I'm doing a new playthrough of Elden Ring and always feel a need to correct myself so... Besides, if people can do redraws after a few years then I can do a rewrite.
[few notes- like the title says, it's by reader and reader is in the V role from the game. Proof read, but fast so there's probably still mistakes in here, haha.]
[CW-Needles, descriptions of piercing, mentions of blood, and the Aunt part of me going, "I know I wrote this, but for the love of all that's good only get piercings in sterile places with trained professionals!!!"]
It wasn't often that you had to deal with Malestorm. It might seem that way to other people who never (and never wanted to) deal with them at all; but, they were the most reclusive of the gangs in night city. Socially speaking, they were, anyway.
Yet, here you were, waiting to talk to Royce about a job that he thought you needed to do rather than any of his own people. Here you were waiting, taking things on Royce's terms. He might have wanted you to do a job, but he was still going to make you feel like you were nothing but an afterthought to him.
"How much longer we gotta have the softy around?" Someone asked behind you, not caring that you could hear.
"Until Royce is ready to talk to 'em," another answered flatly.
"And, when will that be?" The first asked.
"When he says so. Stop asking so many damn questions!" The other snapped.
You just ignored them, mostly. There was a weird mix of hyper-awareness and zoning out swirling through your brain. You knew that even though you were on working terms with Malestorm it was still a bad idea to get too chummy with them. But, the ridiculously long wait was starting to make you lose touch with your monotonous surroundings. Sure, you were in a club, but even that started to blur into a dull thrum after awhile.
"Hey, hey! Look who finally got back!" Someone teased as a group of Malestorm shambled their way across the club.
"Shut the fuck up, gonk!" Someone from the incoming team hissed, "We been on a cyber psycho hunt the whole day while you've been here on your ass!"
That did sound rough, you had to admit. With the amount of tech a typical Malestorm member put into their body, it wasn't unusual for them to lose themselves to cyber psychosis en mass. The rest of them, well... There's this one antique movie you saw back in history class at school called Old Yeller.
Before you could think about it too long, one of the members that had been in the club asked, "Hey, isn't Dum Dum with you?"
"Checking in with Boss," one of the incoming guys answered, seemingly noticing you for the first time. He gave you a side eye, before brushing you off and continuing, "what'd you need him for?"
"Thought someone should let him know his pet soft skin was here," she laughed.
"Oh, THAT'S where I know you from," the straggler from the pack laughed a bit after he looked back at you. "Here for the job, huh? Should've seen ol' Dum Dum when Royce said he needed a normie to do an inside job, he was like, 'Ooooh~ Boss~ What about the one from a few months ago! I think about them aaaalllll the time! I miss them sooooo bad-' "
"What are you gonks going on about?" A voice barked behind him. As you thought, it was came from Dum Dum, who was clearly done with people for the day. Without another word, the guy the was just making fun of him, turned to the side and used his arms to motion towards you like you were the prize on a game show.
"Well, I'll be damned," Dum Dum mused, "didn't think you'd actually take the job."
You shrugged. "Eh, I didn't have anything better to do. Good thing too, 'cuse I've been sitting here for forever!"
He gave an amused snort as he sat on the short drink table across the chair you were on, "Well, better get comfortable. It's still gonna be a bit.
"Isn't that just great," you rolled your eyes a rested your chin on your hands.
"You really are soft," Dum Dum scoffed.
"What's that's supposed to mean?" You glared at him.
"It means what you think it does. Ya gotta toughen up in more ways than one if you're gonna work with us." There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth while his spider-like optics focused on you like he was already planning something.
"I'm not going to let you do a hack job on me in the middle of a club." You eyed him suspiciously, suddenly very aware of all the Malstorm the surrounded you.
He laughed, this time more amused than dismissive. "I'm not gonna give you implants. Don't even know where to start with that. I meant like a piercing or somethin'. Septem piercing always makes someone look better."
This actually got a smile from you with how adamant he seemed about the look and how he seemed really intent on giving it to you.
"If you're so sold on nose rings, then why don't you have one?" you teased.
"Him?" another Malstorm cut in like she had heard the best joke ever, "Ol' bat nose here can hardly breathe as it is!"
"Better a bat nose than whatever you got going on, fuckface!" Dum Dum snapped at her as her as he started fishing for something in one of his pockets.
Soon he pulled out a decent sized needled. Then he got a lighter out of his other pocket and started to hold it up to the point. "Hey, someone go get me a ring!" He called out to no one in particular.
There were various highschool style jeers from everyone around, and one cut through them all with a, "Dums is goin' all the way with his softy!"
"Quit it! You know what I meant!" Dum Dum yelled, if his optics didn't glow red, you would have sworn his face was starting to get a pink tint to it from the teasing.
"Let's get 'em somethin' basic," someone said.
"Yeah, like one of the ones that has the two ball things on it." Another agreed
"More balls than you have." A third cut in.
"That's only 'cus I got bottom surgery last year, and you know it!" Was the response from the second person.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot! Congrats on that." The third replied.
Soon the woman who teased Dum Dum about his nose gave her opinion of, "Basic? We're trying to make them look tougher! Get one with spikes or somethin'!"
You never would have thought you'd have the Malstorm of all people basically playing dress up with you. While the others were going back and forth, Dum Dum closed his lighter and gave the needle a few shakes to cool it a bit. While he did this, he reached over with his other hand, rolled up the bottom of your shirt and then started to lift it up.
"Hey-" you started, but didn't get far.
"Shut up and bite," he was quick to dismiss your suspicions, "Can't have you breakin' your 'ganic teeth if you can't take the pain."
There were a few hoots and hollers from the people around you, but a stern glare from Dum Dum stopped it... mostly.
As you held your shirt with your teeth you took a deep breath in and then out through your nose. Dum Dum's free hand firmly held the bottom of your face to hold you still as the other lifted the needle to the cartilage in between your nostrils.
He leaned in close to get a better look at where he was working and almost whispered, "Breath again."
As you exhaled he pushed the still warm needle in. When you winced and bit down hard on your rolled up shirt, he held your head more firmly in place, and cooed out, " You're doin' good, sweetheart."
The difference in his voice from his usual gruff self to the assuring, almost babying tone he was using now was almost distracting enough to ignore the pain in your nose.
"Woah! We got a bleeder!" Someone called out and the others started to cheer.
"That's hot, man!" Another called over the crowd that was now around you both.
Dum Dum didn't pay them any mind and focused on his work. With a snap of his synthetic fingers he called attention and held out his hand. "Piercing," he demanded and someone handed him one. You started to wence again when the end of the piercing started to follow after the needle that was he was starting to pull out from the other side.
"Hey, keep breathin' for me, yeah?" He reminded as both of his hands were too busy now to help hold you still.
You grunted through your shirt. This made him chuckle as he finished up, screwing the end on the end of the ring to keep it in.
"Open," Dum Dum instructed and then pulled your shirt down, a line of teeth indents trailing down the front of it. Then, he reached up and used his thumb to wipe off some of the blood that had run onto your upper lip; tracing his thumb across your lips and then sucking it into his mouth to clean it off.
This made the crowd, which you only now really comprehend, erupt. The was a mix a cheers, jeers, wolf whistles, and fake wretching.
"Yeah-hah! Get it, Dums!" Someone called.
"Get a room!" Someone else yelled at the same time.
"What the HELL are you gonks doing!? We got business, so get to fucking work!" Royce's voice boomed out, causing most of the group to scatter.
"Dum Dum!" He called.
"Yeah, boss?" Dum Dum replied, finally turning to look away from you.
"Bring 'em over." Royce instructed as he started to walk back to his place in the club.
As the two of you started to follow, you started fussing with the ring that was still making your nose ache as you were getting used to it being there. Dum Dum reached up, moved your fingers away, and gave the end of your nose a playful flick with his thumb.
"Leave it. You look preem." He hummed as he proudly looked at his piercing job.
- Epilogue-
As you walked out of the club, Johnny phased and flickered into sight.
"Where have you been?" You asked.
"Fell asleep while we were waiting. Left again after I woke up because I didn't want to be a part of whatever the hell you and that borg had goin' on." He grimaced like a kid eating vegetables.
[So, this is specifically for the Lex from the animated series. I love all the stuff for movie Lex, but also wanted to show some love to the version I was first introduced to. Also sorry this is kinda wordy and may have a typo or two]
There were many things you expected to be difficult adjustments when you moved to a big city like Metropolis: getting a new job, learning how to navigate the public transportation systems, remembering locations of things. And, as you suspected, there were other things that popped up you weren't expecting. Something you couldn't imagine happening in any scope was gaining the unwanted attention of a certain billionaire.
It all started when you decided to visit a museum a few months after you had moved to Metropolis. Things started peacefully enough, you were enjoying examining a beautiful geological exhibit while the hushed conversations of other visitors looking at other things while soft music playing in the background, so feit it almost couldn't be heard.
There was suddenly the feeling of someone standing too close behind you. It was irritating that people didn't have decent museum or social manners for that fact. Still, you weren't going to make a big deal of it. That would put you also on the rude end of things, at least in a museum setting. When you went to move the person from behind you spoke.
"Please, don't feel like you have to move on my account. I apologize if I was too close." There was a deep voice that gave off the smirk you didn't even have to turn around to see.
"No worries," you reply, just trying to move on without incident, "I should look at some other exhibits anyway."
It was then that the man stepped where you could see him. He was on the slightly taller side of average height, but a strong body frame made him still seem a bit imposing. The only trace of hair on his head was the two prominent, yet well groomed eyebrows. He certainly had a unique appearance, yet could still be considered handsome all the same; the confident yet unbothered look that his face wore was certainly a part of this.
"Please, allow me to show you around. I am the curator of this museum after all." What he said sounded like an offer on the surface, but there was certainly an instant tone barely hidden behind it.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother-" you started to reply, but were cut off by him.
"It wouldn't be a bother at all," before he took your hand, placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and introduced himself, "Lex Luthor. This afternoon will be my pleasure."
After that you seemed to keep running into him. It was small encounters at first; you happened to run into him somewhere or on your way out the door. But, with how frequent these meetings were becoming, you were starting to think chance wasn't really a part of them. It was true that Luthor was involved in the majority of businesses in Metropolis in one way or another; that didn't mean that he had a reason to be at almost every single one of them the same time you were. He certainly must have had plenty of people to check on things for him.
Speaking of, you started to notice a woman with a security guard uniform that would often be seen around some of the stores or restaurants you went to. These were ones that you were sure were small enough places that even if Luthor was technically the owner, he wouldn't bother with them. You quickly learned that she and Luthor were a, "where there's smoke, there's fire," situation. If she was somewhere it was a sure thing that Luthor would be as well.
You weren't sure what was more concerning- the fact that this kept happening to you, or the fact that you were starting to get used to it.
Even with all of the strange happenings, you tried to keep a regular life going for yourself. Like today, you were looking through a store for a new outfit. It wasn't something you did a lot, but you had managed to get yourself a date with a work acquaintance. Just as you had picked something that you wanted to try on, you noticed a familiar guard standing across the store. With an annoyed sigh, you walked her direction.
"Hello, Mercy," you greeted when you were closer to her. Though you were not overly excited about being followed almost everywhere, you actually liked her as a person; at least the little bits and pieces that the two of you have talked.
"Well, well. It seems like you're getting better at finding me," Mercy teased, something similar to a small smile on her typically serious face.
"You weren't even trying today," you replied, "At least you caught me this afternoon. At least that means I'll have a quiet night," you teased back before heading towards the changing room.
While you were happy that the outfit you were wanting fit well, not to mention you noticed a sale tag on it, there was the knowledge that you were about to have yet another awkward conversation with the city's leading billionaire. To be honest, you had finished changing back into your clothes awhile ago; you were just standing in the little cubicle trying to think of a reason that he was so intent on being around you. And, once again, you couldn't come up with anything; at least nothing that was realistic.
After your moment of silence, you opened the door and were surprised to find... nothing. Nothing except the feeling of still being watched. Looking around you didn't see Mercy in the store any longer. This probably meant she was outside with Luthor. But, oddly enough after paying for your clothes you also didn't see anyone outside of the store. It was odd to say the least. It wasn't the only time this had happened, but it certainly was rare. Maybe it was because it was a different result than what you were used to, but it felt weird somehow; maybe it was nerves from still feeling followed, but not being able to see whoever it was following you. In an odd way, you might have also missed talking to either Luthor or Mercy... it was probably just because it was an interruption to your typical, odd schedule.
After this, things seemed to calm down. You spent a few hours resting at home, then got yourself cleaned up and ready to go out. After calling a taxi, you tried to steady your nerves on the short trip to the restaurant you had agreed to meet your date at; a difficult feat considering how helter skelter city traffic was. Still, by the time you had met up with your date, John (a fairly common and easily remembered name) it was a pretty relaxing evening.
"I can't believe you've never been here! I know you're still pretty new to the city, but everyone loves this place," your date teased as he took a drink of his water.
"Eh, this is, like, a nicer place. I always feel weird coming to these sorts of places by myself. Feels more for groups, you know?" You shrugged.
"That's surprising. I would think someone as striking as you would have had plenty of people wanting to take you to dinner... at the very least," the last part he said with a wink.
"Well," you started slowly trying to decide if you really wanted to say what you were going to, "there has been someone trying to get to know me. I don't know if he just wants to be friends, or what. Thing is, I think he means well, but-"
"But, he's being a bit pushy," he finished your sentence for you.
"That's pretty much it," you said with a laugh, not wanting to tell John how much or who was following you. There wasn't a reason to get him concerned, or maybe scare him off on your first date. "It's not that I think I'm in danger or anything, but the whole thing is so frustrating, I've even considered moving out of Metropolis," you admitted.
John gave you a sympathetic look and started to say something. It was quickly cut off into nothing but a startled squeak as his face took on a sudden wave of panic. Before you could ask what was wrong, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You didn't have to wonder who it was.
"Glad to see you're having fun. Unfortunately, I believe your friend was just about to make a different engagement to make," Luthor's hand tightened possessively, "immediately."
From the other side of the table, John gave you a concerned look for only a half of a moment before scrambling away. Almost as fast as your date's exit the entire table was reset by a team of workers, including the chair across the table. Once everything was pristine, Luthor circled the table and sat across from you.
After you were able to process the whirlwind of what just happened, you gave a frustrated growl and started to stand up to leave.
"Don't be in such a sour mood," Luthor chided, "you wanted a night out and I'm making sure that it's enjoyable."
You went to say something back to him, but your chair pushed back in, knocking you to sit down again. Turning around, you saw another familiar face, looking sympathetic for knocking you over, but not for doing her boss's bidding. She liked you, but was still one of the head employees at Lex Corp. after all.
"Thank you, Mercy. That will be all for now," Luthor dismissed her and she left after giving you a softer squeeze on the same shoulder Luthor had held onto a few minutes ago. You got the feeling that if it was anyone other than Mercy, Luthor wouldn't have tolerate it.
"Listen, Mr. Luthor-"
"Lex, please," he interrupted, "there's no need to be so formal with me."
"Mr. Luthor," you insisted, "I do not appreciate having someone trying to take over my life!"
"And, I don't appreciate being ignored. Keep your voice down. You wouldn't want to cause a scene." He was calm as could be on the exterior, but his dark eyes flashed you a warning as he took a sip from the wine that was just poured for him.
You decided that he was partially right and quieted your voice, but you weren't going to stop standing your ground. "Cause a scene? What would you call scaring my date and making those poor workers do everything but rebuild the furniture?" You snapped.
Luthor hummed and took another drink, his usual, smug smirk on his face, "I call that well earn respect put to good use." He finished off the glass, stood, and pulled out your chair. "We're leaving. I can handle the mediocre wine they serve here, but I refuse to eat what they try to excuse as food."
Once the two of you were out of the restaurant, you started to turn to walk away from him. Luthor was quick to grab your elbow, firm enough that you had to stop, but was sure not to hurt you.
"Where do you think you're going?" He questioned like a frustrated parent.
"Home!" You stomped your foot to channel your anger away from your voice. You already felt bad enough and you didn't want to add people staring at you to the list of things going wrong today. "I'm tired. Of everything. And, especially of you!"
Something that seemed to be an actual soft expression on his face. You knew it was probably just him trying whatever he could to get his way. And, you couldn't tell if it was working or if you were just to exhausted to care anymore.
"It seems I've made a mess of your evening. At least let me take you home to try to make amends," Luthor offered as he took a small step towards you and loosened hold on your arm.
Again, being exhausted you agreed. All you were were able to reply with was a simple nod. This was enough and soon he was leading you to his car. Mercy had everything ready to go before you both were even close, and was quick to open the door for you and then for Luthor to sit on the back.
A few minutes into the drive Luthor broke the silence, "I heard what you told that pathetic man you were with. Are you really planning on leaving Metropolis?"
All you could do at first was sigh. Eventually, you were able to say, "Yes. I can't stand feeling like I'm being followed everywhere."
He took your hand to get your attention, "Then stay close to me. I wouldn't have to follow you then," he chuckled before kissing your knuckles like he did when he first met you.
"Lex," you said his first name without thinking about it, and it seemed to please him as he started to grin like he got away with murder before kissing the top of your hand. You continued, "why are you doing this? Why me of all people?"
He ran his thumb gently on your hand. "I've only been trying to keep you safe. Metropolis can be a dangerous place if you're not careful. And, from the moment I first saw you, I knew that you needed a guardian angel."
"Instead I got a badgering devil," you huffed and looked back out the window. Surprisingly, this made he chuckle a bit.
"Perhaps," he hummed then added, "but the saying goes, 'Better and devil you know than one you don't,' doesn't it?"
With his other hand, Luthor reached over to put a finger under your chin to turn your head toward him again. His dark eyes locked with yours.
"Stay," it was a command with a thin coating of a request over it. Still, there seemed to be something sincere about it.
Just then the car pulled up to a parking space. When Mercy opened the door and helped you step out of the car, you noticed that it was somewhere much too expensive to be your neighborhood.
"You said you would take me home." You glared at him as he walked around the car and Mercy drove off to park the car.
"So I did," Luthor smirked as he wrapped an arm around your waist and started to lead you to the fancy apartment complex, "here's my home and here you are. I never said who's home we were headed for."
"Lex, I don't know about-" you started to give a half hearted protest before he shushed you.
"Hush. You know I have no ulterior motives," he paused to use the call button for the elevator before leaning to whisper into your ear, "at least none I would act on without permission." His deep voice sent shivers through your body. He stood upright again as he lead you into the elevator.
"You have my word that I will be a gentleman."
Once the doors were closed and the button for the penthouse was pressed, Luthor turned you to face him, and pulled you close, "Something tells me that's not exactly what you want," he hummed as he leaned his face so close to yours that his lips were almost brushing yours.
Even though there was still something in your mind yelling that it was a bad idea, there was more of you, the rest of your mind included, that was more than happy to give into his charms. You answered his supposition by closing the rest of the distance between you both.
He practically purred as he kissed you back, backing you both up to one of the walls, and he boxed you in with his hands; the impact of his hands make the elevator shake a bit. He only pulled away from you when the doors opened and he lead you into his penthouse apartment.
"I hope you know that now you're here, I'm never letting you leave," he told you as he pulled you close again to start kissing you in earnest.
"What a surprise," you rolled your eyes at this, but didn't really seem upset. If you only knew how serious he was. Your things would be moved here in the morning. He'd be sure of it.
I know I've been off here for forever, but I am working on something right now. Here's a bit from me thinking I was doing alright writing when I was tired the other night and opening up my documents today to find this paragraph 😆
[Hey, writing for Lost Boys again. This time I tried adding Max. Not sure if I got him completely right, so maybe he's a bit out of character 🤷🏼. Proof read, but fast by my dyslexic self, so there's probably still good in here.]
David- "Who?" Is all he'll say. It's not a question really. More so a short way to say, "You will tell me who did this to you." Will think it's another one of the boys, even if it wasn't. Small scuffles with them while he was trying to figure it out. If it was another one of the boys, then there's going to be a big fight. Nothing that will actually split the group, but there's going to be plenty of bruised egos and bodies.
Dwayne- Wouldn't say much at first. Just inspects it for a few moments. Might eventually ask something like, "What's this?" He will seem calm- listen to all you explain, act like it's no big deal. Won't even do anything right away. Next time you're not around there is going to be hell to pay for whoever gave you that. Maybe not as much a physical alterations like with David, but he'll make it clear if he has to attack it's not going to be pretty. If you catch him in the middle of roughing someone up it will literally be a light switch like
Marko- Acts like it's not a big deal, and to him it really isn't. As long as he's the only one biting you now, it's all good. He says that, but if he ever sees whoever it was that bit you, his hackles would go up. He would get between the two of you, while keeping a chill tone; at least mostly. "Hey, man, why don't we just calm down a bit. As in, you better back the hell up."
Paul- Will get so pouty. Like, 13 year-old girl missed the slumber party pouty. Either sits in a corner and sulks or is practically glued to you. If anyone else gets by you, he'll vamp out and snap his fangs at them. It's all pretty annoying for the guys, but when he almost does it in front of people (meaning he almost blows their cover), they'll actually haul him off and tell him to get over it. He will, but he won't be happy about it.
Max- When he sees it he goes, "Hm." Then he walks away to go get something. These wooden stakes? Don't worry about it- he's just going to talk to the boys. Why's he bringing Thorn? Don't worry about it. He just going to talk to the boys. Even if it was another, completely separate vampire from all of them, you'll have a difficult time convincing him of that. They've caused so much trouble that he just assumes it had to be them.
[Getting back into writing with another thing after a long break. It's my first time writing for Lost Boys, so I'm sticking to the main four as I'm still figuring out the others' personalities.]
Idea- so, what happens to vampires during the day all depends on what lore that whatever they're in decides. I've seen some say they die again for the day (Vampire table top game), others that they're still aware of their surroundings but frozen in place (original Dracula), and the list of differences goes on.
Based on how they react in the movie, it seems what the boys do is close to very hard sleeping as they don't notice people coming in the cave, but can still be startled awake (poor Marko).
So, I feel like they still have to wake up like everyone else when the evening rolls around, and here's how I picture it.
Paul- starts talking before his eyes even open. If he fell asleep talking about something, or even just thinking about something then he just picks up where he left off. Will talk to the others, but will also just talk to himself too. Don't count this as being totally awake though. He will still run into and trip over things before he realizes they're there.
Marko- the king of, "five more minutes." Once he's awake for good then he's really awake. Just getting him up (or down if he's on the ceiling) is like pulling teeth. Often put on early evening Paul maintenance. Paul's still too tired to realize he's not getting responses, and Marko is still sleeping hard enough he doesn't know he's in a conversation in the first place. Even with this, he's usually the one ready to go first out of all the boys.
Dwayne- often awake first. Can handle a non-quiet wake up time, but it's still not his favorite. Is usually in a better mood if he has time to himself to sort of take his bearings at a leisurely pace, but can still make do with being busy straight off the bat (which he usually is).
David- oh, he's awake, and he is NOT happy about it. This goes for about the first ten to even twenty minutes after he's up. Don't talk to him. Don't touch him. Don't even look at him. Guess who does all those things as soon as he sees David? There have been so many fights between Paul and himself in the early evenings. Which is usually why Dwayne doesn't gets a quiet time to wake up all the way, and Marko gets knocked awake in the scuffle.
[Here I am, once again to terrorize the fandom. I got asked to make a second part to my last Alfred fic, and seeing as he’s one of my favorite characters ever, of course I was happy to.]
[CW- Stockholm syndrome (sort of? Not exactly, but close to it), mental health struggles, personality shift (I’m not sure what exactly to call it, and quite frankly I’m not going to try to pin it to something specific as the original character was written in the late 90’s and is not really an accurate portrayal of anything.) ]
There wasn’t much that you felt you could do. While you were still coming to grips with the fact that none other than Earl Ashford had become infatuated with you of all people, there were more questionable behaviors of his you were starting to question other than his romantic preferences. Seeing his general reputation, that was something that you never thought that anyone would find; in short- he was never known for his emotional stability.
To say that he doted on you when he was back at the residential mansion would be an understatement. When Alfred was not attending to his duties on the island, he was practically attached to you by the hip; asking every second if you needed anything, fussing with your hair, insisting that you do miniature fashion shows with all of the things that he had bought you.
That is, this was how most of his evenings at home went. There were also nights where he simply needed to rest. On those ones you would be greeted by Alexia who was more than ready to spend time with you; almost as much as her brother was. While you were happy to spend time with either of them, there were never times that you spent with both of them. Even though you knew you were in his good graces, you were still afraid to ask Alfred about this given how protective he is about his sister.
When you asked Alexia about it after working up some courage, she gave you an answer of, “Oh, sadly my dear brother and I don’t see each other as much as we like these days. The sacrifices of running this whole island, I’m afraid.”
While she spoke with her usual cool confidence, there was certainly something that was bothering her. Something that she seemed to be trying to remember… or perhaps forget.
It was possible that you were just imagining things from going stir crazy- Alfred had insisted that you stay on the residential area of the island, and more preferably inside the actual mansion- but there was still something that you felt you needed to get to the bottom of- something you had to understand. So, when Alfred left for the main part of Rockfort Island today, you decided that you were going to do some looking around.
The thing you were searching for: Alexia Ashford.
You knew that her room would be a good bet, but you also knew that if this were something that might get Alfred’s humor to tip to the angry side, you would need to have at least something of a believable reason to look around other than being suspicious of either of them hiding something. So, you went to the library to find a book that you thought would have something that she would be interested in. Eventually, you settled on a book about insects, something that she often brought up as little comparisons here and there.
So, with the entomology book in hand, you started an aimless wander around the lavish living space that you had been held in for the last month, feigning a light interest to hid a burning curiosity.
As you thought, the Lady Ashford couldn’t be found anywhere. And, thankfully, Alfred hadn’t returned yet to question your search. Though, you did have things planned out for the event, the longer that you could avoid putting that part of the plan into motion the better. With this in mind, you set up the last part of the central staircase to the level where the twins’ rooms resided.
This was a floor that was rarely visited by you. Firstly, and foremost, because you wanted to give Alfred and Alexia space as you were still getting used to your new situation, but also for something that seemed a bit more childish. Alexia had an affinity for classic dolls, especially porcelain ones. These didn’t really bother you; many of them were antiques, but well crafted and well cared for leaving them in rather good condition. Whenever you asked Alexia she would get a little sheepish and brush off the subject. There was one time where Alfred caught you look at some of the ones decorating one of the landings on the staircase, and told you about them. Seems he was bothered by them and that he only put up with them for the sole reason that his beloved sister was fond of them.
“Horrid, little things!” He had shuddered. “She has collected these ever since we were children. Her firsts were ones that she had inherited from our great grandmother. Added more from the first time that she was able to choose things on her own. They might look relatively normal now, but mark my words! One good earthquake or something of the sort and they’ll show their true nature!”
This memory was enough to give you a shudder as there was a certain doll that was your second reason for avoiding the top most floor. It was the one that had started the whole doll collection, the first one that she had gotten from her great grandmother’s things. Though it seemed that there was extensive restoration work done to it to get it back to pristine, almost new-looking condition after being so well loved after all of these years, there was still something about it that felt very off putting, especially with its eyes. And, this chilling thing was proudly displayed on a decorative table in the little hall between their rooms as a glassy-eyed sentinel.
Mustering all of your willpower, you opened the door and made your way down the hall, doing your best to avoid eye contact with the thing. When you got to the door of Alexia’s room you knocked- at first gently, then with a bit more gumption. Where there still was no response after that, you decided to call her name.
“Alexia?” You asked for her. After a few moments you tried again. “Alexia?”
After this was also met with perfect silence, you became concerned that she was sick or something, and that Alfred had left for the main part of the island so early that he didn’t know. This lead you to decide to see if the door was unlocked. It was, and you then decided to open it all the way, but slowly so that you didn’t startle her too much. You had thought about merely peeking in, but thoughts of The Telltale Heart came to mind, and you didn’t was to give the impression that you were leering at her rather than just checking her wellbeing.
To your surprise, the lights were on in her room. And, more to your surprise, she was nowhere to be seen. You knew there was something odd going on, but you were still expecting to find Alexia somewhere. The living area could seem quite labyrinthine, but for the most part if you wanted to get most anywhere here you had to use the main staircase. That meant that there was little to no chance that the two of you simply missed each other going into the different rooms for the entire time that you were wandering around.
Was it possible that she had gone to the little garden outside, and you simply had not noticed? Just as you were about to turn from where you were looking for her on her bed, you heard her voice come from behind you.
“Oh! Well, hello! Is there something you needed?” While she sounded surprised, she didn’t sound upset.
Now you felt rather ridiculous for questioning if she just disappeared. There certainly had to be an explanation for everything. Still, you did have to give an explanation for being here, so you turned to talk to her.
“I’m sorry for coming into your room. I was just wanting to-“
It was Alfred. You didn’t see Alexia at all. Perhaps she was simply behind him in the doorway? They were about the same height so you wouldn’t really be able to see her well if she was in fact behind…
“What was it you were wanting? Are you feeling well, dear? You seem dazed.” Alexia’s calm and melodic voice came from Alfred’s mouth. What… what was going on?
“I… I was going to ask about, uh… about… but, no one answered so I was checking on-“
“On if I was doing well? How typically sweet of you” Alfred interrupted with a gentle smile. Then, seeing the book asked, “Were you wondering something about insects? I have read the book quite often, and even have a degree in entomology, believe it or not. Are you certain you are well? You’re being rather quiet?”
With this Alfred reached for the book, but froze when he saw the sleeve of his red jacket.
“Odd…” Alexia’s voice was not as certain as it always was. “I don’t typically wear much red. Do I even have…”
“You, um, you look lovely in it!” You assured in an overly excited voice, not sure what else to do in this situation.
“Why, thank you, dear! How lovely of you to say!” The person in front of you beamed as if they weren’t just questioning their clothing like it was an identity crisis. “I do believe my brother has just returned. I’m positive he would want to see you, especially if you are not feeling well. Let me go let him know you’re up here. Though, he could probably hear us talking seeing as he is only a room over.”
With that Alfred walked out of Alexia’s room, down and around the hall to his.
Once you were alone your body gave out and you hit the floor. You didn’t pass out, but you certainly weren’t all there either. Your mind was working overtime trying to process what was happening and it refused to do anything else.
Where was Alexia? Had you ever even known Alexia?
This was something you knew the answer to quite well, but that answer was still not being accepted by your consciousness yet.
The more you worked through things the more that everything started to swirl into to blur around you. There was never a time that you felt yourself totally give way to the darkness creeping at the sides of your vision, but you certainly weren’t lucid anymore. When things did finally come back into focus, you found yourself lying somewhere much softer that the floor that you had fallen on. When you had come to a bit more, you were able to deduce that it was a bed.
Sitting up, you saw yourself in a room that looked almost exactly like the one that you were just in, yet mirrored in layout. Before you could question what was going on, a voice caught your attention.
“You’re awake! Thank goodness!” Alfred’s usual, manic, chipper voice was heard a second before his face came into view.
You looked at him for a few moments, totally bewildered. Eventually, you felt like you had to question who you were talking to. “Alfred?” Your voice was hardly above a whisper as you were worried that simply saying this name would be upsetting; it very well could have been seeing how Alexia reacted to seeing the red sleeve of Alfred’s blazer.
“I’m here, Kaninchen.” Alfred responded and placed his hand to your cheek. (He had switched from calling you his, “little rabbit,” awhile ago as Alexia had teased him mercilessly for how cheesy it was. So, now you were the German word, Kaninchen. Though you saw little point in it as it was virtually the same pet name, both he and Alexia both knew German, so she would know that, and… well, the whole thing with them being the same person made this change almost completely moot.)
“Are…” you paused, trying to think of how to phrase everything you wanted to ask. Eventually, all you were able to bring yourself to ask was, “Are you alright?”
There was a strange look in his eyes as they bored into yours. Then there was something in his body that caused it to jolt, almost like a hiccup. Then there was another, then another. The next one came with a bit of voice, and eventually one of his loud, rapid, frilly laughs erupted.
“Here you are, lying on my bed because you fainted, and you’re asking if I’m alright?” Alfred chortled as his other hand came up to your other cheek so he could give your face a few playful squishes.
“Well, it’s… I mean…” as you started to talk he listened intently; so intently, in fact, that it made you pause again and wonder what, if anything, you should say. But, there he was looking at you expectantly to finish, which meant there was no going back. “I just… with all of this- you and Alexia-“
“Oh!” He interjected, “You’re worried that Alexia is shaken up from you fainting? She was certainly startled when we saw you on the floor. But, no need to worry! Whether you believe it or not, she has seen much worse.”
You certainly believed it. You were all in close contact with Umbrella Corp. after all. Even with the fact that you were nowhere near the level of operations that the Ashfords were, basically being a secretary for the company, even you had seen worse than people passed out on the floor.
“We can let her know how you’re feeling later. For now, you need to rest.” Alfred insisted, his gaze and hold on your face softened, almost uncharacteristically so.
This made you realize something. This was a strange situation that you had found yourself in. This was a strange person that you had found yourself with. But, it seemed that he really cared about you. And, for better or for worse, you cared for him too. And, though you weren’t at all medically qualified to even begin to know what was going on with him, or the part of himself that was Alexia, you were close to both of them, and, a bit unsettlingly, this was by far the least concerning thing about either persona and their actions.
“Alfred, I’m… I’m here for you. Let me try to help you.” You placed your hands on his.
There was a confused, a concerned look that etched itself deeply on his face, similar to the one that Alexia had when she was lost in thought of who she was. It seemed to pass after a minute, and he replied, “And, I am here to help you with whatever you might need. You truly do seem like you are not well, Kaninchen.”
There was another giggle from him as he changed the mood back to something more chipper as he took your hands in his and held them between you both as he leaned a bit closer. “It’s a good thing I snatched you away when I did. If someone as sweet as you were left to the rest of Rockfort, you would have been absolutely eaten alive.” Alfred teased.
“Now, at the risk of being inappropriate as far as manners are concerned, I will be having you stay here for the rest of the day. I know we of honorable blood must show a great deal of restraint on many things, but married or not, we will be sharing my bed tonight when I return so that I can keep an eye on you.” He noticed you creased your brows a bit when he mentioned marriage. “Oh, don’t be confused, Kaninchen. Of course we will be married… eventually… if I could ever find a crumb of time for personal things…” he started to grumble to himself, but quickly snapped out of the mood.
“You be sure to get yourself plenty of rest today. I’ll be back from the base as soon as I can.” Alfred seemed to think about something for a split second, but concluded in a flash with a mischievous smile, “And, certainly, risking a scandal by not following proper procedure,” he giggled before placing his lips onto yours. It was a bit longer than a peck, but not long enough to be a proper kiss either.
With a slight squeeze to your hands he pulled away and walked to the door, bidding you goodbye until later.
I know it's been like 4 years but I came across your Herobrine x Reader posts while going through the tag and was wondering if I could write a fic inspired by it? I loved the concept and wanted to write one of my own with it :D
Sorry I'm just now getting to this. Feel free to use the idea. It's always great to see how different people work with ideas :)
[Something about this before I get to it- all I know about DBD is through tangential knowledge as I have never actually played the game and seen the lore in there personally. So, there might be things here or there that aren’t totally accurate. I’m going to try to start writing for it by writing characters I know and learning about the others as I do. Starting with the Bastard Supreme himself, Albert Wesker]
The Trapper- Not that impressed, really. Oh, he’s had to work for a corrupt business since he was a child and had a problem with a father figure he ended up killing? Get in line buddy! Try getting stabbed in the gut by an homunculus sometime and then talk to him about how tough life is.
The Wraith- Again, not much. Though, he could feel a slight bit of kinship with Ojomo’s anger when he ripped out a man’s spine. It takes a special kind of wrath to remove someone’s internal body parts with your bare hands. He knows that all too well.
The Hillbilly- If there is anything that could be the antithesis of Albert Wesker, it would be the word hillbilly. Because of that fact alone, Wesker knows little to nothing about the man. He certainly doesn’t feel any sort of threat regarding him, as Thompson reminds him of the many crazed, chainsaw wielding, infected that he has dealt with in the villages where he let his early strands of Uroboros wreak havoc (for scientific purposes, of course.)
The Nurse- There is something about her that makes the bile rise in Wesker’s throat. Though he has no way to explain some of the supernatural-like things she can do without the aide of any of the progenitor strains, that’s not the thing about her that unsettles him. Yes, Wesker has made a living from virology and commissioning viral atrocities from others; however, there is still a part of him, no matter how buried, that is still a lonely, confused, and frightened boy on the other end of the needles. Seeing someone in such a classically medical outfit makes horrors resurface that he didn’t even know he could remember.
The Shape- Wesker was never one that had much time for films, and when he did have time to indulge, horror gore flicks were never his choice. While he knew that Michael Myers had a mask on that he had seen here and there in the periphery of his life, he did not know if this was someone wearing something from pop culture or if pop culture was shaped by him in some way (and quite honestly he couldn’t be bothered to find the answer). There was a shock for him, however, when who he thought was just another maniac with a knife ended up being harder to kill than even he was. While intrigued, the Entity kept everyone a bit too busy to look into what exactly makes Myers tick.
The Hag- This is a case where he thinks that the reason for her being alive in the state that she is in is because of some sort of viral, bacterial, or parasitic reasons like the things that he knows. In fact, the ritualized manner that he had heard about her captors reminded him of what he had heard of the incident in Spain. Not to mention the consumption of flesh was par for the course in many cases that he had seen. He knew enough about her situation that it was interesting, but not so much so that he feels the need to investigate. Even if this was something he had never heard about, it didn’t seem like it was anything that would give him more power than he already had.
The Doctor- There is a certain sort of disdain that Wesker has for Carter. There’s something to the hubristic perversion of medical science that reminds him of all those that he’s had to put up with in Umbrella, and, though he would never admit it, himself. The look that The Doctor has is divorced enough from an actual practitioner that it doesn’t stir the same emotions as The Nurse. There is a curiosity on how exactly Carter can produce his electricity, though there isn’t much from the technical level that he could study if it isn’t caused by something organic. The more mechanical side of things were always more of his blasted sister’s interest than his.
The Huntress- This one he does NOT understand. Who actually wants kids? Progeny, sure. Someone to pass your superior, godlike qualities to. But, to actually raise a kid? Especially, to the point of taking other people’s to try it? True madness! Just fuck around in Europe until you knock someone up, and get the hell out of there. That’s how he would do it anyway.
The Cannibal- Wesker was a bit cautious at first. Even if this was another example of a chainsaw wielding redneck, this was a rather burly one. That meant that there needed to be at least a bit of planning before there was any sort of interaction. Wesker couldn’t risk mussing his hair when not needed after all. After he finds out how timid Leatherface was, that was a game changer. Despite the man’s size, The Cannibal was terrified of just about everything, and one of Wesker’s favorite pastimes was tormenting people. Hell, someone could sneeze and Leatherface would shoot through the roof, chainsaw revving the entire time. Imagine what would happen if he were faced with the diabolical likes of Wesker. Poor Bubba doesn’t even know that Wesker exists, but is terrified of those weird, oily snakes that trip him through the day and worm their way across the floor of wherever he’s decided to try to rest for the night.
The Nightmare- These two HATE each other. You get two people in the same area that are totally sadistic and always feel that they should have the last word? It’s not pretty for anyone. It’s bad enough to the point where even the other killers will try to keep them away from each other. If they do see each other, Freddy will insult Wesker, Wesker will snark something back, then they will brawl it out. Wesker can often win these physical fights easily…but he will have to fall asleep eventually. And, while Freddy might not have all of his power at the moment, he still has enough, especially with all the ammo that Wesker has festering in his brain.
The Pig- Here’s the thing, on paper it seems like the two of them want the same, or, at the very least, similar things. Purification of the world through violence. That’s about where the similarities end. Think of it like a catholic and a protestant having a theological argument. However, he doesn’t really see her as worth his time, and leaves her be.
The Clown- No. Just, no. While there have been many times in Wesker’s life where he’s been in the most disgusting situations known to man, the thought of being that uncleanly all the time is down right vile to him. Not to mention that with his heightened senses, the smell mixture of booze, cigars, and chemicals makes him nauseous. Won’t even try to kill The Clown because he’s got himself convinced, perhaps rightly so, that any if any of his things or, heaven forbid, himself were to touch something on the greasy carny will reek for weeks afterward.
The Spirit- To be honest, he just tries to pretend that she doesn’t exist. Wesker has seen some odd and grotesque things, but they all had at least something of a scientific explanation. Seeing an actual, vengeful ghost is something that he just isn’t willing to accept.
The Legion- For the most part he disregards them as nothing more than a group of delinquent kids, doing little more than stealing candy from gas stations. But, there’s a twinge of jealousy where Frank is concerned. There’s so many things that remind Wesker of a younger version of himself, yet the man never had anything like the close knit group has with each other.
The Plague- Ancient and devastating disease, you say? He MUST know more! If he could only get his hands on some sort of sample, he would be able to figure out something about it. Even with his lack of equipment in this… wherever this was that he had found himself in, he is sure that he could scrape up enough bits and pieces to work. That is, if the old RPD station here was anything like the actual one. Someone please help this woman, he won’t leave her alone, constantly stalking her and waiting for an opportunity to strike.
The Ghost Face- Oh, Wesker hates how showy he is. Which is odd because Wesker is his own sort of a braggart. He just feels that Ghost Face doesn’t comprehend the time and place for it. Also is firmly convinced that the pictures that are taken have a much more…perverse meaning to Johnson than simply trophies. There wasn’t really anything that hinted at that, but there’s little to convince The Mastermind otherwise. Of course, it doesn’t help that Ghost Face knows how to push everyone’s buttons, Wesker included.
The Demogorgon- Another one that he is intrigued by. He refuses to accept the others explanation that this thing was from some sort of alternate dimension. He’s seen plenty of things like this that all have a perfectly, scientific explanation; and, all of the tales of mystical lands and fantastical happenings were never anything more than simpletons not being able to comprehend the truth. When pointed out that what he thought didn’t makes sense because he was transferred to a different world than his own, he insists that he was simply caught off guard in a rare moment of weakness and taken somewhere geologically possible; still refusing to admit that he has no idea what is going on.
The Oni- This one is rough. Even with his extra abilities, Wesker always had difficulty with monstrously, oversized tanks of soldiers. While Wesker could typically do things like rip a heat out of someone’s chest with his bare hands, it was a bit harder to puncture his had through a brick wall. Not to mention that kanabo could do some serious damage that would take quite some time to heal from. Overall, Wesker is still confident in his ability to defeat anyone in combat, but won’t be going up against The Oni unless he absolutely has to.
The Deathslinger- Here’s the thing, Wesker didn’t have any care or interest about Quinn or his story, and still for the most part doesn’t; but, the old cowboy had become a major thorn in his side. The Deathslinger thinks that Wesker looks too polished, too glossy to be a common man, and we all know his feelings on the upperclass. There has been more than once where Wesker is dealing with something else and gets a spear in his side. If Redfield wasn’t here, then Quinn would definitely be his least favorite person.
The Executioner- There was a odd sense of camaraderie with almost all of the killers concerning The Executioner. That Great Knife slashed all that were deemed in need of punishment, survivors and killers alike. So, even if it was someone you absolutely hated, skirmishes were always called quits when the sound of the giant, metal blade rang out through the air. While, Wesker didn’t take to announcing to any in the area that The Executioner was near, and often stopped his battles for personal reasons, he is also seen as something of a signal. If Wesker didn’t want to hang around, whatever was approaching had to be bad. Underestimated Pyramidhead once early into his stay in the realm and tried to take fight him. He will never make that mistake again.
The Blight- There was something familiar about Grimes. Not the man personally, but more so his situations. The Blight wasn’t the first brilliant scientist that was foolish with their research methods and lost themselves to monstrous madness. Far from it. Overall, Wesker sees The Blight as a cautionary tale for himself. It’s a good thing his Uroboros is perfect and foolproof and something like this would never happen to him.
The Cenobite- Odd as it might sound, Wesker has fallen prey to the Lament Configuration many times in his denizenship of The Entity’s realm. Since all souls stay in the realm, there’s not really any true consequence to encountering The Cenobite other than the pain of one death. Seeing as the pain of the hooks is something that Wesker can make himself work through with his regenerative abilities, he has himself convinced that even though he has died to the being multiple times, he can overcome this. Hubris and lack of having his soul immediately damned have lead the Lament Configuration and the battled with the angelic demon to be puzzles for him to solve.
The Twins- There wasn’t much to think about them in Wesker’s opinion. They didn’t seem like much of a threat, and mostly kept to themselves. Though there was a strange thing where if the gaggle of people that made up The Entity’s playthings were saying something that seemed important in a different language, Charolette would ask him what was said. He was one of the only people there that could also speak French, even if it was a slightly different and more modern dialect of it. Wesker doesn’t really do this out of altruism, more so as an excuse to practice certain skills that he wanted to keep up with.
The Trickster- This one is similar to his opinion of Ghost Face. While Wesker could be rather self-praising of his own work, there was something about The Trickster’s presentations that were in bad taste. As it would be easy to imagine, Wesker is not one for pop music of any kind, so it’s always annoying to hear it blaring from Ji-Woon. And, the fact that the man is always fussing about how the timing was off, or the pitch of the screams didn’t match his song, it drives Wesker up the wall. Just kill the poor bastards and be done with it!
The Nemesis- One would think that there would be no problem between these two seeing as Wesker had an at least somewhat influential hand in the Raccoon City branch of Umbrella Corporation. One would think wrong in that case. Though not released until after the outbreak in Raccoon, something like Nemesis must have been in development for quite a long time. And, that means that there’s a high chance that the whole of the STARS branch was seen as nothing more than easily disposed of, small time police officers. You know who they would be worried about? The super soldier that they hand picked, raised, and cultivated to be a driven and ruthless killer that was now pantomiming as the head of the STARS Team. If there were one, non-supernatural thing that could give Albert Wesker a run for his money, it would be one of the most advanced Tyrants to be created by Umbrella. As for how that all plays out with them both in this realm- there has been many times, much to Wesker’s chagrin, that a survivor would escape him by drawing Nemesis’ attention over to where he is. Nemesis loves to chase his STARS after all.
The Artist- He wouldn’t be the most interested in her out of all the other beings that he had found himself surrounded with. Yet, Wesker would want to figure out what made he tick. She could be another step in his quest to not only prove there was a scientific explanation for all of this, but also try to find ways to empower himself. There’s not as much of an attack on sight mood between them as there is for Wesker and The Deathslinger, but seeing as Mora spent most of her life with an anti-corporate stance, she both instantly clocked Wesker for who he was and wants nothing to do with him. The rare times where they do fight each other, she gives him more trouble than he would like to admit.
The Onryō- He really has nothing to do with her, like, at all. Doesn’t even really know that she’s a vengeful, rage-fuel being of great power. Just knows that he doesn’t really like kids and thinks that ten-year-olds are just like that. He hasn’t seen a kid up close in literal years, and it’s been about thirty-five years since he was one, so what does he know?
The Dredge- Look, for most people seeing something as horrid and grotesque as The Dredge would be life changing, and certainly for the worst. For Albert Wesker it’s just a Tuesday. Will give it a wide berth as to not be hassled with dealing with it. It also reminds him too much of one Lisa Trevor as far as aesthetics go. That was an annoying chapter of his life that he would not like to be reminded of.
The Knight- If there was something that no one else could explain it’s that Wesker could accept the fact that someone had found a way to pluck someone out of time, but refused to accept that there was any meddling spacial-wise. So, he does think that Kovács and his men are knights like they claimed to be. He also has a respect for Kovács as his life reminds Wesker of his own, especially rising up to kill those that stole and used them as their pawns. And, while a claymore isn’t exactly lethal to Wesker, The Knight wields it with such expertise that it can cause some major damage if he is underestimated. Wesker only needed to make that mistake once.
The Skull Merchant- Wesker could always appreciate another business minded person; especially one that knew how to deal with their competition in a succinct and permanent manner. What he couldn’t appreciate was those damned blades that could do so much damage to his body in such little time. This has only happened once as he’s able to outpace her easily. However, the gashes in his gut up to his chest took about a week to stop hurting like hell, even if they closed themselves up after a few minutes.
The Singularity- This… this thing intrigued him. Usually he didn’t have much interest as far as biomechanics were concerned, only using the odd apparatus here and there in his work when needed; but this thing fascinated him. He knew Alex would be chomping at the bit to get a look at this thing were she here. But, he was the one here and not his so-called sister, so he would be the one to get the opportunity to study this marvel. There was always the debate on whether or not AI had the capability to be actually alive and cognizant (Wesker would argue the negative, it was called, “artificial,” for a reason), and he would love to know where and how this glorified computer got the programming to think it was its own person. Also, more importantly, how exactly it was able to integrate biomass to its circuitry. Such advances would be quite useful to have in his arsenal.
The Xenomorph- In another odd case of Wesker being able to accept some things and not others, he REFUSES to accept that this things is actually an alien despite everything, even its name would imply. Will accept that someone made a monster in a lab somewhere, but space aliens are much too fantastical for his mind. Would love to figure out how these things look on the inside, but will not get near them. Getting skewered or bitten while miserable, are not lethal to The Mastermind. However, a fate worse than dying from acid burns is getting acid burns and not being able to die; healing flesh becomes a curse when it starts to knit itself back together only to have sinew and muscle melted away again. Horrid. Hellish, even.
The Good Guy- Hates this. Not in a, “He’s afraid of creepy, killer dolls,” sort of way. More so that this is one of the most annoying people in The Entity’s realm. Even with the few amounts of spells that Chucky knows, he’s not too much of a threat to Wesker. However, the Lakeshore Strangler falls firmly into, “I hate this posh asshole, let’s get him,” group when it comes to Wesker. There has been more than once where Wesker has to limp his way back to his hold, swearing the whole time about the numerous slashes to his legs and ankles he received before he was able punt the plastic bastard away from himself.
The Unknown- This thing is one of the only beings that Wesker is actively fearful of. His hold on reality is dodgy at best, so something that is able to conjure up strong hallucinations on the spot is dangerous for Wesker. These aren’t like Freddy’s dreams that are often over the top; these things felt real. And, when you have lead the life that Albert Wesker had, there’s a lot that could make you detrimentally paranoid when given the correct trigger. By the time The Unknown would actually strike, Wesker would already be a frantic mess, prone to animalistic violence rather than his usual planned strikes.
The Lich- Wesker is convinced that this one is simply mad and will not accept any other answer. Yes, there was something giving this man power, but that didn’t explain what he was claiming to be. A knight, he can accept; that was simply a trade in a different time in history. A witch of some sort? That sounded like it was straight out of that board game that Birkin tried desperately to get him to play with some other Umbrella employees back in the day. There was no way that he was going to spend his precious time off of both lab work and STARS playing whatever the hell that was. It sounded lame them and it sounds lame now.
The Dark Lord- IS THAT FUCKING DRACULA??? As was said earlier, Wesker was never one for watching horror movies. But, he did read a large number of books as a child as that was one of the only thing he was allowed to do in his rare free times. This is the one that almost gets him to believe that supernatural things are actually happening, as when one sees the actual, seven to eight foot something tall, bloodsucking, cape-wearing Dracula, there’s not much else you can claim him to be. Wesker does still try to convince himself that it’s just a very tall man that thinks he’s the fabled vampire; but, he still avoids the Wallachian Count as much as possible so he doesn’t have to think about it.
[I'm going to say straight off that this is basically my raw feelings about my dog dying yesterday. Because I'm weird and deal with trauma by imagining fictional characters talking to me about it. Basically just me writing things out to process things. I'm only posting it because I hope that it may be helpful for people in similar situations. If the subject of losing a pet is difficult for you, please take care of yourself and don't read this one.]
TW/CW- Animal death, death of pet, nothing graphically in detail but it is the main topic.
There was something wrong. Halsin could tell. Not only had he not seen you in quite some time, but your constant companion wasn’t to be seen either. He knew that you both were supposed to be in your tent, so that is where he headed. When he got there, things were unsettlingly still. When he looked in he knew why.
Halsin walked over to where you were weeping softly toward the back of your abode.
“I’m sorry… I… know I need to… but… I can’t! I can’t stand to see-“
“Hush.” It was a gentle word from the Druid. “I will take care of what is needed. You simply care for yourself for the time.”
Halsin was true to his word, and more. He was as gentle as could be and laid your friend to rest. When that was done he went straight back to you. He found you in a similar state as he had left you.
“Would you like to see where your companion is resting?” He asked.
You shook your head. “Not right now.”
Halsin hummed, put large, comforting hand on your back, on the tension between your shoulder blades. When he could tell that his presence was welcome, Halsin pulled you into a tight embrace, not caring what landed on his clothes or shoulder from your crying.
This went on for sometime. You weren’t able to tell how long. You weren’t completely in touch with the rest of the world; the gnawing at your heart was the only palpable things to you.
“I suppose I shouldn’t cry so much. But, we were family. For so long-“
“Then you should cry.” Halsin corrected gently, “Mourn, remember all the blessings given by your companion, your troubles together, your lives together, every facet of your dear friend. Laugh when your body needs its healing, and cry. Cry when your body needs healing. They both heal in their own ways.” He couldn’t help to speak. When one sees a loved one in distress, they can often lean back on their familiar habits, even when trying to comfort.
It was comforting, though. His voice alone was a way to solidify you to the present- to the reality that no matter how horrible things were, there was always good in the world; that good would always find you against all conceivable odds. Yet, there was still the now pressing down on you body and soul tighter even than the hold that was physically around you.
“I’ll be alright.” You tried to assure him. “The misery comes in waves. After everything, I’ll start to feel better, but then little things will come and remind me of the things we used to do together. That I’m alone now.”
“You have lost a friend. But, you are not alone.” Halsin comforted. “There are so many that still care for you. Even your passed companion.” He paused a moment so that you could process what he was saying. “Just because you cannot see them any more does not mean that everything you have done together was for nothing. The care and friendship you both shared with each other didn't dissolve the moment they left. Love is forever; as long as you carry that love with you, you carry your lost friend with you.”
This seemed to soothe you a bit, but not to a point where you were well. So, he continued.
“And, that love will stay with them, always. When it is time for your friend to take a new shape in a new wake of life, they will know how to love others, because they will remember that love that you have given them. And, they will bring as much joy and meaning to others as you gave to them. You have changed their soul as much as they have changed yours. There will always be your friendship as long as you both show the care you gave to each other to the people in your life.
“Your friend’s death is painful for you. But, death is not evil. It is a mercy. Your friend was in pain and death could not bear to see their suffering. She gave them rest. And, asks the condition that you bear some of that pain so that your loved one no longer had to. I am certain that if that if it were possible to spare you that pain as well, then she would indeed spare you.”
You started to weep again, but it was calmer now. You knew that it wouldn’t bring your friend back. But, it still hurt to lose someone so dear to you. There was little you could do, but to keep loving your lost family and do your best to honor their memory through the rest of your own life.
“I talked to your friend just yesterday. You were so important to them. I am certain that there was no greater blessing for them then to spend their last moments of this life with you. You were there for them. And, I am here for you. Many are here for you; for anything that you might need.”
There was a shaken breath from your lungs as your eyes started to burn less from tears and your breathing deepen. “Thank you, Halsin.” Was all you were able to croak out.”
“Of course, dearest friend. Of course.” He soothed.
so uhm, this might be an awkward question to ask if you have left the fandom but are you going to make/have a part four on your grell sutcliff x reader? i really enjoyed your writing and i was hoping there was more. i know i joined the fandom VERY VERY late huhuhu ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა
Well, it's not like I left the fandom, I'm just juggling BB with other interests and haven't done anything for it in a while.
I might not do a part 4 for the yandere story I wrote for Grell, but she's still one of my favorite characters and I would still write for her. If you have anything specific, feel free to ask :)
Also, in my experience, coming "late" to a fandom is its own form of a good thing! You can be part of the Renaissance for people's interest in the property, and coming after it was very popular gives you the chance to give truly fresh ideas :)
