socially anxious monster sandy/human pitch au from pitch's perspective?
As the last in a long line of monster slayers, Pitch was responsible for keeping Earth safe from the slavering horrors that lived between worlds, atrocities of nature that rose from sightless dreams and threatened the very fabric of reality with their restless, relentless hunger.
It was a thankless job, not the least of which because very few knew these creatures existed at all, and those that did tended to be madmen intent on bringing about chaos and ruin. No, the average person had no idea how tirelessly Pitch worked to protect humanity from abominations from beyond, and frankly, it was starting to piss him off.
Take, for example, the foul creature currently living in their midst — three houses down from his, to be precise. It looked human, but was clearly an imposter. Granted, most people did not have the gift of Second Sight as he did, but how could everyone be so blind as to this being’s true nature? No one was this forgetful, this perpetually sleepy, this… this cute. Always smelling faintly of cinnamon and the beach, somehow never saying anything and yet being the favorite of the neighborhood, meanwhile Pitch had lived there five years and no one said boo to him —
Anyway. This “Sandy” seemed harmless enough, but Pitch wasn’t fooled. He just needed to expose the monster’s true form, and then slay him with his sword.
The problem was that Sandy didn’t want anything to do with him. In fact, even after Pitch so graciously offered him over for tea, Sandy seemed to be actively avoiding him. He’d pretend to be on the phone (and if he wanted it to be believable, he should try holding it up to his ear, idiot), or in the midst of a coughing fit. One time he even released a flock of doves — seriously?!
Monsters did not often hide from Pitch, not once he caught sight of them, so the fact that Sandy was going out of his way to not even say “hi” was highly unusual.
And rude!
It probably didn’t help that Pitch wasn’t that great with small talk himself and often resorted to complaining about the weather or one of their neighbors (like the one who left his Christmas decorations up year-round). It clearly agitated Sandy, whose mind was probably too alien to understand why light-up candy canes in June are a nuisance instead of a delight, and Pitch decided that if this was the only way he could get the little man’s dander up, then he would complain about everything.
As tiresome as this strategy was, it eventually paid off one day when, in the midst of Pitch venting about his dentist, Sandy shed his human disguise and revealed himself in all his fearsome glory.
He was a lot shorter than Pitch had expected. But no matter — he had transformed. “Finally!”
Sandy blinked his eyes — all fifty of them. His voice reached Pitch’s mind like the shadow of a daydream. What do you mean ‘finally’?
A sword appeared in Pitch’s hand, glowing red in the presence of the creature it had been forged to slay. “I knew you were a monster from the moment I first saw you, but you wouldn’t transform. Now I can fight you.”
Sandy bared his many rows of very sharp teeth. Well… good! I don’t like you anyway!
Pitch lowered his sword a notch. “Wait… do you mean you don’t like me because you hate humanity and wish to destroy all of us? Or do you not like me personally?” Pitch was used to monsters whispering the foulest curses upon his very soul, but this was kinda harsh.
Sandy wiggled his tentacles in frustration. You! I’m talking about you! All you do is complain about everything, you’re the worst human I’ve ever met!
Pitch tried not to show it, but damn, that hurt. He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but to be told by an eldritch abomination that he was the worst was simply too much. “Hey! I tried being friendly at first… admittedly to lull you into a false sense of security, but still! You just ignored me! The only thing I could think to do was get you worked up enough to show your true form!”
I didn’t understand social cues when I first met you. I thought you were just being polite!
Sandy’s indignant mind-voice would have turned a lesser man’s brain to mush, but Pitch was too fired up to even flinch. “Well, I wasn’t! I really did want to get to know you better!” He shouted back, still sore over being called “the worst human”.
Sandy crossed a pair of scaled arms. Then maybe you should invite me over for tea and prove it.
“Fine! I will!” Pitch pointed at his door with his sword. “I just bought a new organic chai from Trader Joe’s and it’s really good! Come over and try it!”
Fine! Sandy strolled up to Pitch’s door, not bothering to transform back. And thank you for inviting me!
“You’re welcome,” Pitch huffed, letting the monster into his house. At least Sandy was minding his manners now. He was going to make the best damn pot of tea and be the best damn host that Sandy ever had!
He sent back his sword from wherever it came from and slammed shut the door.
remember that comic about avoiding eye contact with strangers, can you make blacksand about it with Sandy being the monster??
I do remember, anon. I even reblogged it "8000 Blacksand AUs". Thanks for giving me a prompt to write about it. :)
Pretending to be a human was surprisingly easy. Sandy suspected it was because he had ended up in a small, liberal town that had recently legalized marijuana. Any time he smiled too much or dozed off in the middle of a sentence or claimed ignorance of current events, people assumed he was high. It also probably helped that he was cute and little (or so he was told), and no one suspected a cute little man to secretly be an eldritch abomination from beyond the stars.
Anyway, humans were nice enough, and didn’t pester him for more social interaction than he could handle, and overall he liked them.
Except for this one guy.
Oooh, this one guy!
He was tall, and dark-haired, and although Sandy didn’t know much about human fashion, he suspected that this man was way too fussy about his appearance. What Sandy did know is that the guy never shut up. He was an endless stream of consciousness, he buzzed more than the universe itself, and he would not leave Sandy alone. Part of the problem was that they were neighbors, and often passed one another on the sidewalk, and this guy named Pitch would just talk his ear off if Sandy let him.
And it’d be one thing if Pitch were saying nice things, or interesting things, but no. He wanted to complain about the weather, or their neighbors, or something that had happened to him at work blah blah blah who cares?!
Sandy did not stuff his galaxy-sized intelligence into a tiny living body to have to deal with that.
He tried everything he could think of to avoid Pitch. He bought one of those small communication devices and pretended to be on the phone with a friend (totally pointless — the Glow Cloud always let his calls go to voicemail). He broke into a coughing fit (such a pain trying to shove his lung back into place later). He even trained a flock of doves to fly away at his command. But nothing deterred Pitch — nothing!
And it was starting to take its toll; fractures in Sandy’s disguise that were becoming harder to hide.
Finally, one day Sandy had had enough. Pitch had cornered him with another complaint, and before Sandy could stop it, the transformation began.
Pitch stared up at Sandy’s true form — a tentacled monster, visage so horrifying that it drove even the bravest of men into the throes of insanity — and sighed loudly. “Finally!”
Sandy blinked his eyes — all fifty of them — in confusion. What do you mean ‘finally’?
A sword appeared in Pitch’s hand, glowing red in the presence of the creature it had been forged to slay. “I knew you were a monster from the moment I first saw you, but you wouldn’t transform. Now I can fight you.”
Sandy bared his many rows of very sharp teeth. Well… good! I don’t like you anyway!
To his surprise, Pitch lowered his sword a notch. “Wait… do you mean you don’t like me because you hate humanity and wish to destroy all of us? Or do you not like me personally?”
Ugh, how egotistical could one person be?! Sandy wiggled his tentacles in frustration. You! I’m talking about you! All you do is complain about everything, you’re the worst human I’ve ever met!
Pitch visibly recoiled, and Sandy felt the teeniest bit guilty at his choice of words. “Hey! I tried being friendly at first… admittedly to lull you into a false sense of security, but still! You just ignored me! The only thing I could think to do was get you worked up enough to show your true form!”
I didn’t understand social cues when I first met you. I thought you were just being polite!
“Well, I wasn’t! I really did want to get to know you better!”
Sandy crossed a pair of scaled arms. Then maybe you should invite me over for tea and prove it.
“Fine! I will!” Pitch pointed at his door with his sword. “I just bought a new organic chai from Trader Joe’s and it’s really good! Come over and try it!”
Fine! Sandy strolled up to Pitch’s door, not bothering to transform back. He could drink tea with at least one of his mouths. And thank you for inviting me!
“You’re welcome,” Pitch huffed, letting Sandy in.
The tea turned out to be as good as Pitch said. And so was the conversation, for once.
Monster/superpowered/supernatural Sandy and human Pitch, pretty pretty please? :bats eyelashes:
Mary, you do not even need to say please *once*. monster!Sandy and human!Pitch is actually on my list of fics to write, but for now I can provide a small taste.
He saw it first in his dreams.
Pitch was used to dreaming of sea creatures, of swimming in the deep. It was his career, his livelihood. But he had never seen anything so extraordinary, even in the picture books he used to read as a child, filled with colorful drawings of imaginary beasts.
It was like a cross between an octopus and a jellyfish, he decided later when he was awake. It was bioluminescent, too; its entire body glowed golden.
When he started dreaming emotions as well as images – loss and longing mixed with hope and affection – he just assumed he had been working too many hours. He was used to the isolation of an Antarctic laboratory and could sometimes get a little carried away in his work.
He knew something was wrong when he found himself standing on the water’s edge, peering down as if waiting for something. Someone.
Had he sleepwalked here? The last thing he remembered was lying in bed, falling asleep… at least he had the good sense to dress appropriately for the bitterly cold weather, bundled up in his fur-lined parka and frost-resistant pants.
Or maybe he was still asleep, because the creature from his dreams shimmered underneath the crystal clear water, rising up to the surface.
He wanted to run. He wanted to pull his camera out of his pocket and record everything.
All he could do was stare.
One long, yellow tentacle pierced the water’s surface and slithered to shore, sliding up his leg, his chest, his neck, finding that one patch of skin that he could never quite completely cover with his scarf.
The tentacle was soft and wet and it pressed into his skin like a lover’s kiss.
“Oh,” Pitch whispered with words that weren’t his. “I finally found you.”
