Why do I keep writing demon origins? I dunno, it’s fun. Also, Lust has stolen my heart so of course I had to write something for him.
Moon Blossom week - It was an accident
Moon Blossom au belongs to @somebodyalreadytookthis2
Laughter echoed and howled as eerie blue flames consumed all in sight. Grief and insanity tainting what was usually a joyous noise. How could it not when such a small mistake had caused such devastating consequences?
A figure curled into themselves in the midst of the flames, the source of the noise, unharmed by the intense heat. He had been Lust, one of the greatest pyromancers to ever live, and now he was a newly born demon. Twisting blue flames curled from his temples into horns as his eyes matched their colour, but his tears remained the beautiful purple his magic had once held. The tears didn’t last long against the heat of the flames, sizzling and evaporating away before even leaving his face.
Overconfidence had driven him here. Sobbing overtaking the laughter as he had to deal with not only his new state of being, but also with the charred remains of his brother’s cottage that hid away the ashes that marked the spot his brother and his brother’s partner had stood in their final moments before the flames had taken them away. Their screaming had long since stopped echoing around him, but they lingered in his skull.
Finally, as the reality of the situation settled upon him, a scream of his own rang out. It did nothing to drown out the noises inside his own head.
Just earlier that day, things had been fine. He laughed as he waved his brother off while heading over to the sandpit he’d grown up training his fire magic in. While his brother had stayed behind to live in their childhood home, he’d gone off to bigger things, though he always made sure to check back in. Between the two of them, it’d been just light banter as Lust had warmed up with a few simple exercises he’d done routinely for years.
“HE’S PLANNING ON WHAT?! AND YOU’RE JUST GOING TO LET HIM?!” His brother’s partner had been less enthused when he learned why Lust had come to use this familiar place for his latest experiment in pushing his magic further. Violet flames had leapt from the sandpit in surprise at the loud voice, but his brother had quickly stomped them out and continued on as if nothing had happened. Instead, taking his partner back into the home so they could talk and not cause any more distractions.
Lust understood where the concern was coming from, but he was so sure he could handle it. Who better than such a talented pyromancer to try and replicate the magic of the dragons of old. They’d been missing for generations, but Lust had gotten his hands on some beautiful black scales supposedly from one. The idea had then come to him to attempt to replicate that old magic while using the scales as a way to channel his power. Maybe, if he could, he would be able to somehow summon the dragons’ return. Even if he didn’t, it’d be a revival of old magic. Either way, he was sure to wind up in the history books for his accomplishments.
Failure had barely passed through his mind as an option. At most he expected nothing to really happen. Surely nobody could have predicted the outcome that did occur.
Things had started according to plan. Vibrant violet flames had twisted about him to create intricate patterns across the ground, and the scales hovered calmly within the orb of fire he’d conjured to contain and channel them with. All was under masterful control he’d built over his lifetime. Everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
The scales began to drip, as if an outer coating was melting off, and they began to flutter about as though petals in a storm. Volatile magic rejected his own and a surge of power overwhelmed him. The ball of flames held in his hands burst outward and knocked him off his feet, but his magic didn’t dissipate despite the fact that it should have at this loss of concentration. The flames had just rose higher, burning hotter, changing into an eerie blue, and scattering about like cracks spiderwebbing from a place of impact.
Panic consumed him as the flames raced out of the pit, licking towards the cottage and the forest. He rushed to try and regain control of the flames. All he was met with was stinging pain as he plunged his hands inside the geyser of flame that dwarfed him. Tears pricked at his sockets as he kept pushing to try and grasp something to try and tame the blaze.
Startled shouts came from the direction of the cottage, but Lust couldn’t turn to look. He grit his teeth as he finally found something to try and connect with the fire. Not caring about the risks to his own safety, he took it with no hesitation. A loud cry parted from his teeth as the flames burned through his streams of magic, and it only pitched higher as it built up and burst from his back. Wings of the corrupt fire flapped behind him as he squirmed through the feeling of the flames twisting his body. Fire licked out of his eyes, it erupted into horns from his temples, and it felt like burning fangs grew in his mouth. That wasn’t all, but it was so hard to understand what was going on through the pain.
His head blurred and fuzzed for a moment, just long enough for him to tip into the flames and lay helpless on the ground within as everything that made him up screamed in pain. Or maybe that was the haunting echos of screams from the cottage as his body prickled numbly. His vision slurred as everything grew difficult to decipher.
By the time he grew more coherent once more, it was already too late.
The flames kept burning well into the night, long after Lust had run out of tears to shed. He still couldn’t bring himself to move as he stared at the blackened world around him. The stars in the sky were barely visible due to the light of the flames, and the moon was not out tonight, as though ashamed of Lust’s actions and thus avoiding having to look at him. He felt it only fair. Did he deserve to get to see the sky in its beautiful nightly glory when he’d been the cause for two so close to him never being able to see it again? A sick feeling settled over him at that thought, but when he coughed and sputtered due to the horrid twisting nothing came about beyond plumes of smoke.
Due to all of this, he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone anymore at first. The dark body and single glowing eye blent in well. It wasn’t until the other spoke up that he became aware. It startled him and he lashed out and caused flames to arch through the air. Terrified awe filled him as he watched the other seem to melt and reconstruct before him so as to dodge the fire. That feeling only grew as his new form recognized the other as another demon, and one that held a lot of power at that.
The other seemed amused at his fear, as though he could sense it. Lust tried to tell him to stay back, but the other ignored him and approached. He spoke as he made slow, calculated movements. Gentle words that snuck their way into Lust’s head. Words that made him tremble and grow unsure. Words that reminded him that once a mortal came to investigate, he was as good as dead. They offered him status and safety if he went with them. They were both demons, so they had to stick together.
It was all enough that when a black hand was extended towards him, Lust took it.
So I’ve been feeling really productive because of all the Moon Blossom stuff I’ve been writing, so I decided to finally write something with Horror and Fresh cuddling like I’ve been wanting to do for a while now. More specifically this is the same Fresh from the birthday fic I wrote for him, just a ways down the line when things are looking up for him because he deserves something good and soft.
But yeah, this is meant to be Horror/Fresh in a QPR, though the boys don’t know the term and would probably just call themselves friends.
Enjoy~
The voices were quiet today. Fresh knew they were still there, the faint feeling of their existence was something he’d forced himself to be able to pinpoint to make sure he was still fine. Even knowing they were there, the silence in his head was driving the itching need to do something to draw their attention. Except his mind was coming up with blanks. He didn’t know what he could do inside of Nightmare’s castle that would be interesting enough to make sure he wasn’t forgotten. Logically, he knew that this was likely just another one of those spots where time didn’t flow alongside the time of their reality and so they couldn’t be there, but he wasn’t forgotten. His emotions didn’t seem to care though. That was the most frustrating part of emotions. The way they’d come to blindside logic and push some other narrative no matter the inaccuracies or how dangerously it might make you act.
“Head troubles?” came a chuckle from nearby. Fresh didn’t mean to shriek, but his nerves and perception were shot. Anything happening outside of his host had been pushed to the background for him to try and calm the frazzled jitters coursing through him and making him shiver. “Are… can I touch?”
Eyes closed, Fresh nodded his assent. “Y-yeah,” he managed to push out despite the crushing feeling encompassing him.
Prepared for it, Fresh barely startled at the large hands. Even though he’d has his suspicions based on the voice alone, the size of the other confirmed to him that it was Horror. Without much thinking, he turned to grab onto the larger’s jacket. Now that somebody else was here, he just wanted to curl up and pretend he didn’t exist for a while as if that would solve his problems.
The couch he was resting on dipped and he was effortlessly scooped into Horror’s lap. A shaky breath escaped Fresh as it felt like something that had been coiling tight within him relaxed. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t forgotten. That made him safe, right?
A thumb gently running over his cheeks and pushing his glasses up and away from his sockets made Fresh finally blink his sockets open. Horror’s eye light was watching him in a way that only radiated concern as a gentle smile sat on his face. “You’re okay,” he soothed, “I’m right here. So you don’t need to cry, okay?” It took a second for the words to mean anything beyond the comforting rumbling of Horror’s chest as he spoke. One of Fresh’s own hands came up to his face, and when he pulled it away it glistened while wet.
“Yo, I.. uh… sorry ‘bout-”
“Don’t apologize.” Fresh was quick to quiet himself at Horror’s interruption. The words holding force, but no anger. The parasite just paused to look at the way Horror’s face pinched, as if Fresh’s attempt at an apology was hard for him to quite understand. He couldn’t help but raise a hand with a bright fingerless glove up to try and wipe the silent frustration he could catch in the way Horror’s hand twitched at the same time as his empty socket away. Horror blinked at the action before bringing one of his own hands, double the size of the one belong to Fresh’s host, to cover it as he leaned into the touch. “You sh’dn’t ‘polozige.” The gentle giant seemed to finally piece together the words he wanted to say, even if they weren’t as clear as before. “Don’t care if ‘m wet, y’ need t’ get ‘em out like th’ boss says.”
“But I didn’t even mean ta all up and start bawling,” Fresh protested.
Horror huffed as he stared at where Fresh knew his host’s soul was visible. “Jus’ ‘cause you didn’t mean to, doesn’t mean it’s not…” He trailed off, head bobbing back and forth faintly. He then turned to nuzzle into Fresh’s hand more, eyes falling closed as he tried to concentrate. “Not meaning to doesn’t make it not good for you,” he finally settled on.
Fresh shook his head and gave a small laugh, though he didn’t exactly know why. He let himself fall back against Horror’s chest and curl up a bit to get comfy. With his one hand trapped by Horror, he let it be as the other moved to rest gently against the barrel of a chest. Faint purring began to vibrate against him and he just gave a soft sigh while Horror wrapped his own free arm around Fresh protectively.
The comfort Horror offered was something Fresh would have never been able to dream of before they’d gotten close, but he was so glad to have it. Even with the voices still just that faint sensation that meant they hadn’t abandoned him yet, he didn’t feel as bad about it anymore. In fact, he almost felt like he could fall asleep here like this.
Instead of doing that, he rubbed his face against Horror’s shirt before looking up. “Wanna watch Th’ Lion King?”
The purring was interrupted for more of Horror’s deep chuckles. “Haven’t we watch that twice already this week?”
“Three times actually, but ya can’t diss a good movie,” Fresh grinned up at the red eye light staring down at him. Horror only watched him in amusement.
“Would, but I like these cuddles an’ don’t want t’ move.” He nuzzled into Fresh’s hand again. Fresh felt his face heat up in that strange way he didn’t understand, but he ignored it in favour of the way Horror’s smile grew. “C’n text Cross t’ put it in. He likes it too, right?” Voice not working, all Fresh could do was nod as he fished out his phone since his companion didn’t look ready to move any time soon. As he typed away with one hand, he found himself okay with that idea.
Blue’s lucky the ludonarrative dissonance isn’t strong, or else he’d be having more problems.
Moon Blossom week - Change
Moon Blossom au belongs to @somebodyalreadytookthis2
It was subtle enough that Blue hadn’t noticed it at first, but as his time as part of this adventure went on it became harder to miss and ignore. The first time he’d experienced it was long before he’d first actually noticed it. It was the first time he met Cross actually. Cross had been against him joining and was trying to talk him out of it, so when he eventually agreed to let Blue join, the pastel pink that tinted his right eye and the way his speech changed just slightly were completely missed in Blue’s small celebration.
He probably wouldn’t have noticed the strange moments where Cross just didn’t seem to be fully himself for even longer than it had already taken him to notice if it weren’t for Ink. The first few times they’d met Ink, Cross would say he didn’t want something from the merchant, but seemed to get talked into buying it in the end anyway. So it all seemed relatively normal. He’d caught glimpses of a pink colour in Cross’s right eye, but always thought it was some trick of the light.
“Look, this is a key item. Not like item management is a problem, but this is one you need and thus won’t have to dig as much for,” Ink had stated, his eyes looking somewhere beyond both Blue and Cross. Blue had begun to turn to look to see if somebody else was there, but he only turned far enough to see Cross’s face and his right eye had been something between a faded red and a dusty pink while he paid without any more complaints.
When asking Cross about the strange encounter, Cross had been confused. He didn’t remember buying it, and was sure Blue had given in to pay for the thing himself. That made Blue concerned about his new friend and travelling companion. If it had just been for random seemingly mundane decisions, he probably would have let it go, but now that he was aware of it he easily began to notice that it didn’t stop there.
Cross would act and speak differently whenever his eye light left its white colour behind for anything from pink to a vibrant red. Normally he’d find it just as easy to get lost and confused in the castle as the rest of the group, but when his eye light changed colour he had a higher chance of going the right way or picking out the solution to a puzzle. Some encounters with demons kept the white light, but when facing one of the demon lords, Cross’s eye light had gone the most vivid red Blue had seen from him. That fight had Cross doing things Blue wasn’t sure he’d be able to replicate once the colour left. Sure enough, when asked about the fight, Cross couldn’t recall the specifics of it.
It was by accident that he’d realized that the same thing happened to Dream some times as well. The whole thing was harder to notice for Dream physically as his eye lights would both change to a lighter yellow that had a bit of a peachy colour in it as well. Strangely enough, the behaviour he picked up when acting strangely matched Cross’s strange behaviour. The same mannerisms in speaking with some of their actions even lining up to match.
As he kept notes on the similarities between the two, he began to wonder if somehow Nightmare’s supposed ailment was similar to this. The only problem with that theory was that Nightmare would vanish during the time his memory failed him, whereas the other two would stick around. There was also the fact that the two would remember the gist of what had happened even if specifics didn’t line up, whereas Nightmare had holes.
Eventually, Blue got fed up with knowing nothing. He knew barely anything, Nightmare knew less than him, and Cross and Dream somehow knew even less. It was frustrating and he wanted answers. So, he went to the only person he figured might have them.
Ink was lounging in his shop that was luckily still in the same spot Blue could remember last seeing him. The magic merchant was playing his flute along to the strange noise that seemed to be a song somehow played with multiple grass whistles that was somehow always present. The other noticed him quickly, perking up as he put his flute down. “Here to buy something? It’s an odd time for you to be doing so.”
Blue shook his head. “I have questions that I think only you will be able to answer.”
“Ooo!~” Ink was leaning against the front of his shop. “What kind of questions?~”
“Questions about the strange things going on with Cross and Dream. They seem to happen when we’re around you a lot, and almost like you trigger them sometimes, so I want to know what’s happening.” Blue pushed himself to try and find some line between polite and demanding. The temptation to slip into the more casual speak he would hear more often while growing up was also there, but if he wanted to get accepted as a knight he knew he had to work on his more formal speech.
One of Ink’s ever-changing eye lights turned into an exclamation point while the other turned into a squiggly line. “Oh! You mean when-” a strange layered noise that had Blue cringing left Ink’s mouth “-is doing things!”
“Wh-what was that noise?” Blue couldn’t help but hunch into himself and reach to fiddle with his scarf.
Ink rolled his eyes with a huff. “I think the fourth wall is censoring me. I’ll have to break it for you sometime.”
“You… probably shouldn’t be breaking walls?” Blue wasn’t really sure what was going on right now.
“Aw c’mon, they’ll love it,” Ink said with a wink Blue had sometimes seen him throw towards empty space.
Blue’s face pitched into confusion. “Why are you giving me that look?”
“Because you’re sharing eyes,” Ink responded as if this was somehow something obvious Blue should already be knowing.
“You know what? I think I’m going to look for answers elsewhere. Thank you for your time.” Blue ducked out of the shop quickly, hoping he really wouldn’t have to go back to Ink for the answers. Trying to understand him was more difficult than trying to understand even the insane demons chattering. There had to be an explanation for what was going on that made more sense than trying to decipher Ink’s cryptic words.
Moon Blossom week - A welcomed guest
Moon Blossom au belongs to @somebodyalreadytookthis2
“What do you think of our new teacher? I think she’s kind of neat,” Dream leaned over the edge of the couch he was lounging on to stare at his brother.
Nightmare looked up from the book he was trying to read. “I dunno, she gives off this strange aura.”
“It’s probably that foreign magic she knows! I’m excited for her lessons. I can’t believe somebody in the court managed to get some highly regarded foreign mage to come teach us about other lands and magic.” As he spoke, Dream’s eye lights turned to stars that got a bit fuzzy around the edges as he spaced out trying to imagine just what they were going to be taught.
Nightmare huffed a small laugh at his brother’s behaviour and shook his head. His brother always was more willing to look at the positives in something. He, on the other hand, couldn’t shake that something was wrong. Despite this, he knew how to play along and be cordial and polite. All those years of strict discipline in manners weren’t for nothing, and he shuddered at the thought of breaking them now.
In light of this, he gave a small wistful smile to the book he knew he was about to be pulled away from. “If you’re so excited about their presence, then why aren’t you getting ready for the banquet that’s to be held in their honour this evening?”
A loud gasp filled the area in which the brothers were seated. “I totally forgot that was tonight!!! Nighty, why are we still sitting here?! We don’t have a moment to lose!!” The golden prince was to his feet in an instant and was quick to urge his brother to do the same. A vague sigh left Nightmare as he marked the page he was on and placed the book down for a servant to clean up later. With how much energy his brother was radiated, he felt it probably best to not try and remind him that they’d had lunch not long ago, and instead just went with what made him happy. The genuine smile on Dream’s face was worth the hours of fussing his brother and the servants in charge of their clothes were going to be doing.
It’d been a few weeks, and Nightmare knew he was a bit early for the lesson with the newest teacher he and Dream had. However, with Dream off probably watching the guards train and fantasizing about some heroic adventure, he was on his own and had nothing better to do than try and get an early peek at what they were going to be doing. The strange woman always had something interesting to share with the boys at least.
“Magistrate?” He asked as he knocked on the door. Apparently that was the word for teacher in her language.
He could hear things moving on the other side of the door before his the beaked wyvern appeared, staring down at him. “Ah, princeps Nightmare, you’re early.” Her head slid out into the hall to look around. “Where is your gold self?”
“Dream’s busy at the moment, but since I was free I was hoping it wouldn’t be much of a bother if I were to come to investigate what the plans for our next lesson were,” Nightmare responded, having gotten somewhat used to the strange quirks of his teacher’s way of speaking mixed with the accent she carried.
Wandering eyes returned their focus onto him, and his teacher’s head tilted back and forth faintly as she thought about something. After a moment her eyes flickered as she nodded. “I was hoping to do this with both brothers, but if I must do both princeps separately, I certainly must try.” Her head receded into the room, which Nightmare was only now was realizing was dimly lit. His brows furrowed faintly, but he kept himself from appearing too judgemental. Offending his teacher could mark the reputation of not only himself, but of his family and kingdom as well. “Come in, come in,” she ushered. One winged arm wrapping around him as he entered, and Nightmare couldn’t quite shake the thought of it being as though to hide him from view, or perhaps the room instead.
Inside the room was a strange sight, unlike anything the young prince had ever seen before. Candles that had obviously been burning for quite some time were placed on odd surfaces, and the furniture had been pushed about haphazardly to make way for strange lines and runes to be drawn in every direction. The bizarre markings even climbing up the furniture and walls, some even reaching onto the ceiling. It all seemed to lead back towards a central part of the room, like veins unfurled to spread nutrients or roots growing erratically to seek them out.
Something made a hissing noise, and his teacher pushed the door closed with a kick as she rushed off to tend to whatever it was. Not sure what else to do, Nightmare stepped carefully over lines and around the runes that looked oddly familiar, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember where from. In fact, all of this gave him a feeling as though he should recognize it, and he knew he must have read about something similar in one of his books.
“Drink.” A glass of a teal glowing liquid with large black spots floating about inside was pushed into his hands. Seeing as he’d had magic enhancing and boosting potions in the past to help test him, he figured it was just another one of those and took a sip to get a taste. “All,” his teacher’s voice was firm as she fussed with the placement of items around the room. He complied, tipping back the glass to drink as much as possible. A collection of something sweet and soft gathered in his mouth, not rushing down with the rest of the liquid.
If not for the strange pang that came from what he recognized as his magic reserves, he would have stopped to question it more. Instead, his mind was turning inward to try and investigate the strange feeling. That feeling wasn’t right. Unlike the expanding feeling that enhancing and boosting potions might offer, it was like his magic reserves were suddenly starved. Shrinking and being eaten by whatever he just drank. Panic settled into his bones as nothing came when he tried pulling at it for even a simple light to gather in his palm. His knees shook when he tried to move his legs, not cooperating with him in his want to react to this. Nightmare blinked heavily as his vision swam, making it take longer than he should have to notice the way the lines around the room were lighting up the same colour as the potion he’d drank with the colour crawling in towards him. Muffled noise filled his skull and the sweet taste in his mouth was growing.
Unable to keep himself up, the prince fell to his hands and knees, noticing after a moment of staring at it that he was above the place where all the markings met. Fear made his chest tight, and he couldn’t tell if the cold tingling across his bones was also part of that, or just another side affect. His bones also felt strangely sticky, and he could feel something sliding out of his sockets. A weak shudder shaking his unsteady attempt to keep off the floor.
A loud bang had Nightmare’s hands slipping from under him, causing him to, unfortunately, tip over. Everything became vague blobs of colour for a moment, and he squinted at the bright light from the now open door. The blue colour from around the room began to fade as voices screamed, though he couldn’t make out the words. It felt like somebody had shoved cotton into his skull through his right eye, making it even harder to see out of that one than his left.
With the last dredges of his strength, he managed to push himself up enough to lean away from where he was laying to cough. The sweetness in his mouth vanished. His shoulders shook as he registered a feeling of choking for a moment, but then it was gone. His chin felt went, but he didn’t have the awareness left to care. He let himself fall back to the floor, away from where he’d coughed though he couldn’t think of why that might be important.
He felt something warm touch him, only now realizing he felt cold. A vague moaning noise passed through his teeth as he attempted to curl into himself. His body ragdolled as somebody shook him, and a comfortingly familiar voice sounded nearby. If he wasn’t alone, then maybe it was okay to just take a short nap. His eyes felt so heavy.
When Nightmare eventually woke up again after being unconscious for a few days, he was met with a tired-looking Dream who leapt at him and began to sob. Both brothers were happy to be with each other and glad the other was okay, and Nightmare’s relief for his brother’s safety only grew when he was informed that the teacher who’d done this to him had been banished from the kingdom, as they’d been using a forbidden type of magic. He was never told what it was, but he had been fine with it since he’d thought that was the end of it. Sure, he’d been put through something scary, but he was fine now and at least him being there alone meant Dream was safe, even if Dream had been the one to find him under the influence of whatever had happened.
Things just couldn’t be that easy though. It didn’t take long for him and others to begin to notice something was strange with him. He could be fine for weeks before suddenly he’d feel as though in just a blink he’d go from one place to another with no memory of the time in between that was missing. It could range anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, but at some point, he even lost days to his strange affliction, and apparently nobody had been able to find him during that time.
The greatest healers from across the land were gathered to try and figure out what was wrong. They were meant to treat it. However, none of them could find anything wrong with the prince. He seemed perfectly healthy, which made the strange blackouts even odder.
One late night, he was sneaking about the castle just to try and work off some of the anxiety housed within him so he could sleep. By accident, he stumbled across some private court meeting that was made up of just his parents and a few select members who he knew had been informed about what his teacher had done to him. They spoke in hushed voices, as if scared that they’d be heard despite the fact that this meeting was so well hidden. Urgency and fear were thick in the air as he watched them, but there was also this resigned look about the room, as if they all knew something they didn’t want to admit. He’d been curious, but was willing to leave it at just something strange until he managed to catch his name in the quiet din. That made him pause and strain harder to listen. He didn’t catch much more before he had to scurry off before he was noticed, but it was enough to know that they’d been talking about him and his condition. The adults knew something, and they were hiding him from him. Surely they’d tell him if it was important though, right?
Late at night, a demon wandered a moonlight forest. Locals were scared of the supposedly enchanted woods, and he wanted to know why. It was to his pleased surprise that he came across moon blossoms dotting along a trail through the trees. Too curious about the strange discovery, he followed it.
A smile stretched across his face as his single eye flashed for a moment in delight. A twisted old castle lay abandoned in a hauntingly beautiful scene. Moon blossoms grew plentiful here, even climbing some of the more ruinous walls of the building. This place would be his. He would rule as a proper king over his lawless brethren. It was only fitting that a prince, quietly shunned and attacked by the world would take up the mantle of the demon king.
His laughter could be heard from beyond the forest, where the people tucked themselves further into their homes for the safety they hoped to find there. Little did they know that nowhere was safe from the demon king should he have a desire to go there.
Did somebody ask for Driller content? No? Too bad it’s here anyway.
Moon Blossom week - By Moonlight
Moon Blossom au belongs to @somebodyalreadytookthis2
Large windows lined a grand hall, letting in the bright light of the moon as the main source of light. Sparks burst to life and flickered through their brief lives, offering momentary flashes as blades clashed. Two figures traded blows back and forth in the dim hall, one’s eyes, target soul, and twisting horns glowing a bright blue as the eyes of the other held burning gold lights that darted about to try and keep track of his opponent. A glowing blue shield appearing and vanishing as needed as to avoiding hindering its user.
The moonlit fights were becoming oddly routine between the demon and prince. Dream was half convinced that Killer was just pushing him to try and see him in his berserk form. Only he and his brother hadn’t made use of it at least once by now after all, and Nightmare’s ailment would have him vanishing at odd times, only to return at even odder ones confused and lost. This made Dream more reliable for attempting to track him down. He probably didn’t help himself in getting targeted with how he’d been going after lesser demons without hesitance.
Both fighters were too evenly matched for any fight between them to favour one or the other for long. It was like a dance with both partners fighting for control. The back and forth, the spins, dips, and leaps as they tried to sway things towards their victory. Neither had yet claimed victory over the other, and it was something that irked the both of them. Whenever one looked to have victory just within their grasp in a one on one fight, something would happen to break them apart and leave the whole thing unresolved.
Activating his shield a moment too late, Dream grunted as the back of one of Killer’s knives caught him across the side of his ribs to the front. He stumbled back, losing his footing for a moment. That short open was all Killer needed to pounce forward, pushing Dream towards one of the windows.
Unable to recover properly from that first hit, Dream used his shield to try and protect himself as he was pushed back. He attempted to duck and dodge, but one of Killer’s feet clipped his chin and forced him back farther. The prince growled under his breath as he trying to figure a way out, but Killer had gained the advantage and they were dancing his way now.
In a last-ditch effort to regain something, Dream dismissed his shield and lunged forward with his rapier. Killer caught his sword in the dip of his giant knives letting sparks burst forth in a shower of light as metal ran across metal. He used his control of Dream’s blade to throw the prince off again and pushed him the final few steps to one of the large windows.
Their bodies were pushed flush together as Killer used his knives to pin Dream’s sleeves to the windowsill, further limiting the golden prince in what he was able to do. “Looks like I win this time,~” he cooed.
“Do I look like I’m surrendering?” Dream attempted to put some spite or anger behind his words, but instead, they came out breathy and vaguely impressed. Killer’s already wide grin seemed to grow even wider as they stared at each other.
The demon leaned closer to his captive to speak quietly to him as if they weren’t alone in this grand hall. “Is that a challenge? I’d love to see you attempt to escape.” There was a pause as Killer settled his face so close they were both breathing the same air. “Unless you have some other plans on how you’ll fight me?~”
For a moment, all was silent. Just the two who were fighting on opposite sides of a battle catching their breath together as they were pressed impossibly close. Dream’s face mostly in shadow, only highlighting his golden eye lights as they searched the demon’s face, and Killer’s just far enough away to be lit beautifully by the light of the moon streaming down upon the both of them. One of Killer’s hands left his knife to brush across the faint golden hue beginning to blossom upon Dream’s face. At the same time, Dream was wondering when his free hand had used its limited mobility to grab at Killer’s jacket. If the move was to push the demon away or pull him closer, the prince had no idea. Conscious thought felt too far to bother with as he memorized the mixing of silvery moonlight and the beautiful blue that danced in the demon’s eyes and across its face as its glowing horns had slipped from existence during this quiet exchange.
“Just kiss already!!!” And like that, the moment was shattered like a piece of glass unevenly heated by a raging fire, bursting and scattering pieces everywhere. Both of their faces grew into beacons of their respective colour as Killer pulled away. Being made of demon magic, his knives vanished as his horns reappeared. Dream’s grip on his jacket stopped him for only a moment before he somehow escaped it and then vanished completely in a blink.
Face feeling like a beacon in the otherwise dimly lit corridor, Dream brought his now free hand to cover his face instead of keeping it help out as if that’d bring Killer back. He groaned loudly into it as he struggled to understand what just happened beyond an intense frustration directed at the owner of the voice that had broken whatever had just happened.
“Aw, you were so close,” Ink pouted from next to Dream. Dream tightened his grip on his rapier, having to remind himself that it probably wasn’t a good idea to stab the shopkeeper who’d been overall helpful if a bit weird until now.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Finally came the prince’s reply when he felt he could voice something other than annoyed gibberish.
Ink whined, “You were finally going to kiss after all this tension and now he’s gone!” The shopkeeper sounded a lot like some petulant child who’d been denied a favourite snack.
“The only tension between me and that demon is the desire to finally be victorious. Once again our battle has been disrupted, so once again we end in a tie.” Dream finally pulled his hand from his face so he could see where he was going as he pushed off the wall to go find the others. He didn’t want to listen to whatever Ink was going to say. He definitely hadn’t wanted to kiss that beautiful face.
...Right?
When Killer appeared late to the meeting with his king and the other demon lords, a few curious looks were thrown his way. He was usually the first one there, and he usually didn’t arrive with a vibrant blush alight on his skull. “Where were you?” their king asked, more as a formality, though even he wasn’t without curiosity for the tardiness of his right hand.
“I got carried away terrorizing the pesky mortals,” Killer responded in a way that made it clear he was not open to talk about the subject any more than that.
He devoted his full attention to the meeting after that, and away from the warmth still lingering on his body from where it’d been pressed against another. He gently rubbed a thumb over the fingers that had caressed that golden light.
Unnoticed by him, two of his fellow lords quietly exchanged money and whispers when they could get away with it.
So I’ve been watching the Moon Blossom au and this week they gave a list of prompts, so of course this is my excuse to do nothing but write a bunch of content for it.
I may have zoned out for a while and gone a bit overboard...
Anyway, here’s Moon Blossom week - Bewitched
Moon Blossom au belongs to @somebodyalreadytookthis2
Some would say he was possessed, but Sans was pretty sure he was still as clear-minded as before this all started. It wasn’t his research into “evil things” that was having a toll on his mental health. If anything, it was the bullying. Well, that and the passing of his brother which he suspected might’ve been caused by the very same person who led the bullying against him. There wasn’t much he could do with being one of the few monsters in this small village, and it was far enough away from the castle and its influence that anyone upset about something the royals were doing might seek to lash out at him simply for sharing an appearance with the princes.
His current obsession, and the reason people were beginning to avoid him more, was a demon. Demons were always said to be awful creatures, and yet he’d been seeing one regularly for months now. It wasn’t his fault he wanted answers, he was sure any sane individual would want to know more about the demon that appeared in their room at night with sweet-sounding offers. While the whole demon appearing to offer something enticing sounded about right for demons, it would always leave for the night with a small bow and a “call for your king if you change your mind” if he respectfully declined.
Any text about demons was something he did his best to get his hands on. Digging through the small library in the house of the village head to try and find anything that might help him or explain things to him. It was frustrating to him that all the books just talked about demons in broad strokes and referred to them all as volatile, bloodthirsty beasts that took pleasure in toying with mortals. Even the latest book he’d discovered which was supposedly about summoning the things. Not once was there a mention of demons going so out of their way to offer things to a mortal, nor a demon as polite as the one he’d met.
Closing his eyes, he could still picture the first night he’d met the demon with surprising clarity. It’d been after a particularly rough day. He’d broken down crying in a secluded corner of the village as the grief of his brother’s passing overwhelmed him, only to be found by his tormentors who’d lashed out at him worse than they’d ever done before that. After a day like that, a stranger in his bedroom hadn’t gotten much of a reaction out of him. In fact, the demon looked somewhat beautiful with the light of the full moon highlighting its inky form. The glowing blue eye was like a second moon as the two had watched each other. He could have gotten lost in that solitary eye, and probably would have, if it weren’t for the movement of the demon twirling what appeared to be a black rose in its fingers as it held the flower close to its chest.
“I know your plight,” the demon had said, “and I can offer you the power to oppose your oppressors. You’ll never have to live in fear again.” The voice had been deeper than he’d expected from the other, but it was a pleasant pitch that felt like it resonated within his chest.
He wasn’t sure how he’d ever found it in himself to speak, much less deny the demon. Though the denial was after a moment of hesitation he still felt bad for having. “I’m sorry, but I must decline. Accepting feels like admitting defeat, and I don’t want to let them win.” His voice had been even and calm, something he was even less sure of how he managed than his ability to speak at all.
“Very well.” The demon had nodded, then it gave a short bow to him that felt like something reserved for only those of higher class rather than something that should be aimed at a peasant such as himself. “Should you change your mind, simply call for your king.” With that, the demon had vanished in a blink. Gone into the shadows it appeared to be made of.
After that night, the demon would appear at seemingly random, though always after a bad day, to make the offer again. The exchange between the two of them felt almost routine at this point. Sans found himself finding some strange comfort in it whenever it happened. Any moment in the demon’s presence was comforting, but he couldn’t find it in him to break their exchanges to offer to let it stay. Not like he knew if it would accept a snack or drink, or if it even wanted to be around him beyond trying to get him to agree.
Sighing and opening his eyes, he looked towards the window. It was getting late out, so he’d have to end his search for the day. The book he was holding snapped shut and gently pushed back into place. It looked as though it’d be no use, but he kept a mental note of where about he’d been just in case. With a forlorn expression, he just rested his fingers along the book’s spine for a moment.
Footsteps quickly took off from just outside the door to the room making him cringe slightly. He hated how familiar he was with the gait of the villager head’s brat child. It was useful if he could catch it before it got to close as it usually meant trouble was coming as they led the torment against him. He had no doubt they were looking for some excuse for another reason to go after him, as they and their gaggle of mindless yes men friends had been quiet lately.
The walk had been blessedly quiet until his house was in sight. Just as he turned the corner to see it, the brat and their ‘friends’ were also suddenly right in his face. His next step was hesitant as he tried to think of a way out of the impending confrontation, but it was too late. “There’s the demon worshiper!” the brat yelled. Sans’s mind stuttered as he stopped in place while others from the village began to look over at the accusation. It was a weighty claim and not something you called somebody lightly.
Of course, that left the skeleton with only one way to reply. “What?” He couldn’t rid the dumbfounded tone from his voice as he watched the brat grin faintly as they stared back at him through a mop of neatly kept brown hair.
“He’s been reading books on demons for months, and today I saw him with a book on how to summon them! He clearly plans on cursing us all!” Sans didn’t know how to refute their claim. It was true that he’d been reading the books, but that was to research the demon that had been visiting him unprompted. Though saying such things while trying to deny the claims wouldn’t make him look any better. The fact that he’d met a demon face to face and was still alive would probably convince the people that he was some sort of demon worshiper.
Words failed him as the brat began to stalk towards him, calling at the villagers that they had to act now to rid their village of evil. Sans threw his hands up placatingly, trying to come up with anything to calm the quickly turning minds of those he’d grown up around as he backed up. At most he hated the village brat and perhaps their friends, but he didn’t hate the village as a whole. He’d never dream of cursing the only place he’d ever known.
A mob was slowly forming and they were driving him away from the safety his home could have temporarily offered. Panic was beginning to seep through his bones as frightened whispers mixed with jeers over the quick acceptance of the accusation. It didn’t take him long to realize what was happening. The brat saying to get rid of the evil was meant to spur the others towards the usual punishment for demon worships. He was going to die.
Hands grabbed at him, tugging him towards the village square. He struggled, pleading with those around him to stop. He wasn’t what they thought he was! He didn’t want to die!
As he was being drowned in a sea of chanting that had begun, calling for the demon worshiper to be purged, that the demon’s offer echoed in his head. If he did nothing, he would die. He’d rather admit defeat to the brat than die. He didn’t know what to say beyond the vague instructions to call for his king. Still, he took a deep breath.
“My king!” he shouted. “My king, I’ve changed my mind!” Despite his shouting, his voice was still lost among the crowd. He could only hope the demon somehow knew he was calling for it.
The shadows of the evening seemed to grow longer at his calling, growing a mind of their own as they began to twist. Startled cries began at the edges of the crowd as people stumbled over nothing and others caught sight of the strange phenomena. People both surging closer to the group for help, or scattering away to try and escape whatever was happening. Despite the noise, deep chuckling could still be heard rising above it all despite how low and calm it was.
“It’s a demon!” somebody cried in terror. “He’s already doomed us all!!” That had the crowd falling apart more as people hoped to escape what a demon might do to them. Sans was dropped in the chaos. He curled up on the ground, in hopes to avoid too much damage from being trampled.
Nothing touched him, despite the loud hysteria, and that caused him to slowly peak out of his protective position. Shadows swirled around him and would leap from the ground to lash out at anyone who grew near to his prone figure. Unthinking, he reached out a hand towards the darkness. It reached out back at him and twined harmlessly around his fingers. The cool touch oddly soothing, almost like it was eating away his fear and panic to leave only a gentle calm.
He looked up when the familiar voice of the demon spoke to him. “You chose an interesting moment to finally admit that defeat you’ve been avoiding.” A single glowing eye stared at him from the condensed darkness beside a nearby building. “However, I will not let you deny me now just because you’re safe.”
A quiet laugh left Sans. “Even if you left, they would just come back for me again.”
That appeared to satisfy the demon. It nodded before stepping from the shadows with a paper in its hands. “Gather the items on this list and return to your home. Only the foolish will dare approach you with the intent to lay hands upon you. Any that do shall be made forfeit.”
“I’ll be as fast as possible,” Sans said as he took the paper with care. Just a brief glance showed a list with the more uncommon items crossed out, and the remaining items were things he should be able to find quickly. He was pretty sure he had some of them at his home already.
Standing, he realized the demon had vanished. He supposed he better gather the items quickly so as to not upset the demon. Plus doing a short grocery run for a demon was a small price to pay for not dying.
Arms full of the seemingly miscellaneous items the demon had asked of him, Sans entered the small bedroom off of the main room of his home after the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The demon was already inside of it doing something on the ground. He made sure to carefully dance around whatever it was doing to place the items upon the bed. Shadows ate up the items he’d dropped off. Candles were arranged around the floor sporadically and lit the whole wooden surface which lit the room oddly, though part of that could be the seemingly sentient shadows moving about as well.
“Is that all?” he asked the demon as he turned to inspect what it was doing to his floor. Dark markings streaked about with strange runes he couldn’t read scrolling off in odd angles. It was beautiful if a bit strange.
The demon didn’t spare him a glance. “Stand in the middle,” it directed as it flipped a page of a thick aged tome. Not seeing the harm in a simple action, Sans followed orders and stepped carefully into the spot where the patterns seemed to flow towards. A brief glance and nod was his only assurance that he was right in his guess.
Unsure of what else to do, he simply watched the demon work as silence fell between the two of them. The movements it made were transfixing, but the demon’s familiar flower wasn’t in its hands. If it weren’t for the candlelight, he probably would have missed the fact that it was gently tucked into the sharp crown that sat upon the demon’s head. It was almost cute in how it reminded him of the frazzled old human who kept inventory tucking their writing utensil behind their ear only to forget where it was later. He only said almost because calling a demon cute seemed like a bad idea. Especially when he had no idea what the demon was doing.
Eventually, the demon stood. It held out its hand and Sans took the quiet message and held out his hands in return. Confusion pinched at his brow when soft black petals fell into his palm. “Place them in your mouth.” Sans wasn’t sure it was safe, but from his research on demons, he knew that the demon wouldn’t attempt to kill him until it gave him what it had promised him. With that to comfort him, he complied. The petals were strangely sweet in his mouth.
With the old tome in its hands, the demon began to speak in a language foreign to the monster. As he spoke, the sweetness in Sans’s mouth strengthened. The lines upon the ground had the colour of the demon’s eye begin to race through them, starting at the edges and working in towards him. He forced himself to watch as he repeated that the demon wouldn’t kill in his mind.
One of the demon’s hands reached out as it continued to speak. That same blue colour filling the lines began to overtake the white glow of what had been removed from him. Strangely enough, he could feel a cold discomfort as the colour and shape of whatever it was changed. His head was also feeling light and strange as if somebody was actively shoving cotton into it.
Wavering on his feet, Sans closed his eyes.
The newly born demon opened his eyes slowly. Fingers twitched as he looked slowly at the one who’d changed him. The other was watching him with a wide grin. “It’s just occurred to me that I never asked before now for the name of my new servant.”
Despite having all the memories of his past life, the new demon felt its old name was not enough for what it’d become. “You may call me… Killer, my liege.” The other nodded.
“Very well Killer, I have given you power. All I ask in return is you offer your services to me. I have grand plans, and they would do well with you to aid me.” The request was simple as far as the now named Killer believed. While he’d been blind before, he knew now that this was the king of demons himself.
He gave a low bow. “It would be an honour to serve you, my king. If I might be selfish enough to request one more thing? I’d like to use my power for the reason you gave it to me”
The king was silent for a moment. “If it would entertain you, my new demon lord.” Killer grinned. A village to torment as it had tormented his past self and being gifted a position as one of the lords of the demon king’s court? Truly today was the best he’d ever experience.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I wrote Ink a birthday fic!~
I mentioned it in the beginning notes on the fic itself, but just a heads up that this takes place in an au I’ve had in the background for a while now with a story I’ve had on the back burner. There’s a character named Autumn hanging around who’s a swap Sans
Hi! Just wanted to say that I started reading your story Pets aren't people and it's absolutely amazing!! I love the way you use the MCs limited and broken perspective of the world to slowly drop hints of how she ended up there, and where there is. And I love all the skeletons. You write them gorgeously. I'm at ch15 and incredibly excited to read it all! Excited enough to reaad the whole night XD Thank you for writing this story! It's giving me so many emotions! Hope you have a wonderful day ♡
Wow, according to Tumblr this has been in my inbox for a while and I never got any notifications so happened across this by chance??? But I’m so glad you’re enjoying it! I’ve been super procrastinating on the next part and writing lots of other small things (like that destructivedeath fic I just posted), but I should definitely get back to it. I know what I want to write, I’ve just got to get it down.
But yeah, writing Sunna’s inner monologue for the perspective is super fun and I can’t wait to start explaining more about her. The general idea for the next few chapters gets into her and those she knew before all this, I’ve just got to solidify and write it down.
I was craving Destructivedeath and finally wrote some of my own and just after I put a part of it on AO3 I found this, so I feel like I’m dutybound to share.
(Link~)
There’s not much direct interaction, but it’s focused on their relationship with potential plans for more.
Hey! When do you think you’ll update Pets Aren’t People? I love your writing and I’m super excited for anything you release. I hope you’re alright!
It should update Wednesday!
Things have been a bit of a mess up to this point, but I’m hoping to keep surging forward. I’m really excited to finally get it out there for everyone. Thank you for waiting so patiently for this story.~
Yes! I am!! I really did mean to have a chapter out a really long time ago, but I’ve been struggling with this chapter from writer’s block, to feeling like I wrote myself into a corner, to just life in general getting in the way. Don’t worry, it hasn’t been forgotten.
Ink leaned back on the wall of his prison cell. No better time to break out the harmonica. If what he’d heard about prisons in the past was true. He pulled one out of the striped prison outfit he wore. The experience supposedly could not be completed without either the instrument or the outfit. Too bad he didn’t know how to use the instrument. He shrugged to himself before bringing it to his mouth and blowing into it using his magic to direct the air in. Seeing as that was working, he continued to attempt to play.
“SHut UP,” came a familiar glitchy voice from the other side of the wall. Ink perked up while blowing extra hard into the harmonica. It let out an annoying screech which got a groan in response from the glitchy voice.
Ink grinned. “I can’t. It’s part of the experience™.” A thonk of bone hitting stone crossed through the wall. All the artist could do was snicker.
Inktobertale - Day 4
Why’s he locked up? Who knows. Is he even really locked up? Can’t be too sure with this one.
romaincrisis
pixelskylines
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
discoholicmusic
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
origamiaround
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
