Psst psst psst, rantep shippers come get your juice
Amnesiac!Carter au this time, with a bit of inspiration for the crawling chaos's form taken from @jevdev-art 's version of Nyarl, hope that's okay (btw thank you for the tag comment on my last fic - I wouldn't have written this if it weren't for you!)
I'm not really happy with this. Eventually I'll probably write something longer, and better, with this concept. For now, enjoy!
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His eyes, blue and green, looked between the page in his hand and the wall before him. Carter bit his lip, narrowed his eyes.
"Almost…"
With the charcoal, he drew the symbols, under his breath he mumbled the ancient tongue. As his words faded and he drew the final symbol, the image on the wall warmed, the black lines heating. He backed up, drawing in a breath. Black lines turned red, caught fire, the whole symbol burned, burned.
And the stone wall crumbled. The old, old rock walls around him didn't even budge. And before him, revealed to his astonished eyes, the ritual site, lost for over three hundred years.
He laughed, dropping his arm.
"I can't believe it…"
The charcoal tumbled from his fingers. The man stepped forward…
"Well done, Randolph."
His head snapped to look behind him. Too late. From the dirt below him, tendrils exploded around his feet. He cried out. The tendrils wrapped around his arms, his legs, dark ooze squeezing out from between their sections as they lifted him from the ground.
He struggled, a sudden cold sweat dragging down strands of his hair to his forehead. The more he fought, the tighter the tendrils gripped, until tears prickled in his eyes. Carter gave up, gasping. The tentacles eased their grip.
The familiar voice - the only voice that escaped from the locked box of his memories - laughed.
The stranger's footsteps created no sound. Despite that, he could sense the eldritch presence that approached like a chill on his skin, an ache in his chest. He did not look towards the man. He clenched his eyes shut.
A drop of sweat traced down his neck. A long, warm finger brushed it away.
"Randolph…" the voice called, sticky and sweet as honey.
He grit his teeth. He wasn't going to argue with this madman again.
"How did you find me?" Carter said instead.
"There is nowhere you can hide," the man said. "There's nowhere you can go, on this planet or another, where I will not find you."
"You're bluffing," he said. "Powerful as you might be, sorcerer, you can't do that. Even those like you have limits."
"Sorcerer?" The man spoke, amusement dripping from every word. "You've given me an upgrade. How sweet."
Carter opened his eyes. The rival occultist before him dressed as a modern pharaoh might, with Eye of Horus face paint by each eye and golden jewelry laced with forbidden enchantments. Over eight feet tall, his tendrils had lifted the younger man so far off the ground, they looked each other in the eye.
He didn't know either of their names. The people who found him nicknamed him Carter after some famous instructor at the university. He had no idea who Randolph, the real one, could be. This man must be truly as mad as he appeared to be, as he must be after using such dark magics, to mistake him for another.
"You know you can just ask my name," the Pharaoh said. "Just say the words I know you know. I will answer. I will confess."
But there was nothing to say. He didn't know the words. He didn't know anything. Whatever memories he had from before remained sealed in the abyss of his subconscious, likely never to be freed.
Amnesiac he may be, though, he knew a taunt when he heard one.
"Don't you lay a hand on that site!" Carter said instead. "All of the relics-"
"Need to be taken to the Miskatonic," the Pharaoh brushed his hand through the air, waving the words away. "You are dedicated even now, I admire you for that. But I'm not here for that."
The smile on the Pharaoh's face grew.
"I'm here for you."
Carter stiffened. His pulse jumped in his veins.
"E-Excuse me?"
"There's a lot you've forgotten, my rebellious pet." The Pharaoh pressed closer now, his armbands clicking together as they wrapped around the other's body. "I don't have time for a full lesson. Your friends are on the way. But the next time I find you…"
His wide eyes could not look away. The Pharaoh smiled. His breath caressed over Carter's lips.
"Yes… I know what I'll do with you… my precious Randolph Carter…"
Something sparked in the back of his mind. "W-wait-!"
The man's lips swallowed his cry.
No, it wasn't the first time he'd been kissed by this madman. No, it wasn't the first time he'd been trapped in the Pharaoh's arms. Warm hands traveling over his body. Incense, smoky and spicy, rubbing off on his clothes. A tongue like another tentacle in his mouth, his own noises echoing in his ears.
It wasn't the first time. How did he know it wasn't the first time?
Who was this man?
The tendrils dissolved, leaving only the Pharaoh's arms holding him up. Carter squeaked, squirmed, gripping onto the powerful limbs that held him up. The other man laughed, breaking the kiss. With far more care than Carter wanted to be given, the Pharaoh settled him down into the dirt. He towered over the other man. The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed. What was the magic that made them seem to glow yellow?
"I shouldn't," he mumbled. The glowing eyes closed, he sighed. The man straightened, and smiled.
"Until next time," he said.
The Pharaoh turned his back, and Carter did not stop him, watching as his silent steps carried him into the dark.
Carter shivered. He touched his lips with shaking fingers.
Randolph Carter. The man they'd named him after. He'd vanished, was assumed dead, in the 1920s, wasn't it? Did this madman believe he was…
But even with magic such things were impossible. Even the outer gods themselves couldn't… couldn't what? What were they incapable of? Would they even be capable of defying time and death itself?
How do I know you, Pharaoh?
Another voice called out in the darkness, a familiar voice, a friend. On shaking legs, Carter pulled himself upright. They could not know. None of them could ever know. Not until he did.
A FANFIC INSPIRED BY MY SILLY OL ART PIECE DID IN SCHOOL WITHOUT MUCH THOUGHT PUT INTO IT??? I'M-
DUDE I'M FUCKING WEEPING RIGHT NOW
But my excitements and cries aside, it's actually pretty good. I love how just from sketch you were able to tell what colour palette to some extent my interpretations of these two stupid idiots have. Like, damn, that's some good intuition on your side dude.
Also the fact that Rand's body is so familiar to Nyarly's gentle touch while his mind is spacing back and forth not knowing what the fuck is happening is such a amazing thing.
And that kiss. DAMN
DAMN
Plus I appreciate the part about Nyarly having to hold Carter up from the ground. I know, I mentioned that in my post with original piece but like-
IT BOTH MAKES A LOT OF SENSE AND IS CUTE SO, U KNOW. LOVE THAT
Ngl, I had a bit different idea while drawing that of what a backstory behind it all is, but honestly? This interpretation is way better. And u know, if you'll ever write something more with this concept, my DMs are open ;>
ANYWAY, THANK YOU, IT WAS AMAZING, ON A SCALE FROM 1 TO 10 IT WAS 11/9 EVEN, SO YEAH. THANK YOU 💜🖤💜
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romaincrisis
