I have the start of a Hazbin fanfic. It's not a reader, one, it's Huskerdust cuz they've had me in a chokehold lately. Here's a little snippet of it.
Knock knock.
Nothing.
Angel knows Lucifer is the king of Hell and all, but could he atleast answer the door? He decided to just wait outside. Recently, Angel has decided to give himself a little task: freeing Husk. The spider and the cat had become very good friends over the past few months, and while Angel was still trying to decipher his real feelings from the ones he thinks are real, Husk and Angel trust eachother. It shouldn't have been a surprise when Husk finally talked about his contract with Alastor. What Angel wasn't expecting was Husk beginning to break down.
Angel didn't see Husk cry, no, Husk locked himself in his room before that, but Angel could tell. He'd been through enough of them to know the signs. That night, Angel decided help Husk out. As a friend, of course. Angel was sure Husk would do the same thing for him if he had the chance. It's just what friends do.
Angel knocked on the door again, and this time actually heard something. Granted that something was the very clear sound of someone yelping and falling out of a chair onto, Angel thought it sounded like rubber ducks but that couldn't be right. Angel stood up straight as who he could only assume was the big man himself scrambled for the door.
"Shit shit shit. Heeeyyyyyy, how's it going, um, Angel right?"
"Right. I'm fine, but I need some help with some-"
"Say no more!"
After Lucifer interrupted Angel, he kicked a rubber ducky that had fallen out of his pocket back into the room before slamming the door.
"So, what is it you need?"
"Well, I was wondering if you could help me with a...project."
"What kind of project?"
"Well, I don't want to talk about it out here. I don't know if he's listening."
"Who?"
"Y'know, the guy you hate."
"..."
"The hotelier."
"..."
"Alastor."
"OH! Yeah, come on in then."
"Thanks."
Angel walked into the room after Lucifer opened the door again. Maybe that comment about the sound not being a rubber duck was wrong, as there were hundreds strewn across the room. Lucifer lead Angel over to a desk, where the two demons sat down.
"Right, so what is it you needed?"
"I want to get Husk out of his contract with Alastor. I know I should probably focus on getting mine gone first, but Husk..."
"Ahhh, I see I see. Contracts are usually easier to mess with when you don't have one yourself, so we should probably get you freed first, and then focus on your boyfriend."
"Woah, Husk is not my boyfriend."
"Really? Huh, guess my intuition's a bit rusty, eh? Anyways, I want you to know now that this will be very difficult, and in the end, you both may not even end up truly free. I can try to work my magic, but there's no guarantee. I'm not even sure if I could remove the contract."
"I know, but I have ta try. For Husk."
"Alright. To start off with, I'm going to need your contract. Do you know where your boss keeps it?"
"In his room. I think, anyways. Asshole usually keeps em in his office but I'm his 'special toy.' Problem is that I can't exactly get in there without getting fucked in both senses of the word."
"Yikes. Maybe I could... interrupt?"
"Didn't know you were into that stuff."
"Noooo nononono no. I meant I could come to the tower and request an immediate meeting while you two are...you know, he'll need to leave to see me. I am the king of Hell, after all."
"How would ya even know when to show up?"
"Here, take this."
Lucifer grabbed a bracelet from his desk and handed it over to Angel. A collection of pretty beads with a little duck charm in the middle, all cool to the touch, adorned a black cord.
"A... bracelet?"
"The little ducky charm in the middle will let me know if you tap it. Honestly, probably the most useful duck I've made."
"So I get Val in bed, tap the duck, you distract him, and I get the stuff. Then what?"
"Leave?"
"Problem with that is Val would murder me if I ran."
"...Not if he can't."
"Heh?"
"Well, if we can get you back to the hotel quick enough and get your contract taken care of, we may be able to stop him. He wouldn't want to stand up to the king and princess of Hell, after all."
"Yeah, he wouldn't. Damn this might actually work."
"Let me know when you're ready, Angel. I'll be there to bail you out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my other projects."
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That's all I have for right now wich kinda sucks cuz I wanna show off more, but hey, I'll make sure to post updates when I get the first part finished!
I decided to do these each day I actually write, as a personal incentive and maybe to get some people interested in my snippets.
WIP: Cold Iron
Words written: 627
Draft: First
Chapter: 1 (I'm actually just restarting it from scratch)
What happened: Shakatra, feeling isolated from their current life, wasted the day dancing and spinning in the show, much to the annoyance of their brother Kristoffer. Also took the chance to describe both changelings.
Comments: I focus best first thing in the morning at my desk with coffee, but my desk isn't set up yet and I slept in so here I am at 8pm trying for the 5th time this year to restart this book. I'm cautiously optimistic of this one, but not sure of the quality of today's work. Also, listening to 80's gaming remixes of sea shanties is ideal writing music.
Favorite excerpt:
They could feel the prickles of his skin through his pastel t-shirt and the back of their sweater. The little stings were familiar, comforting. A safe way to hurt. After a very long moment, Shakatra pulled back to look at their brother. He was fat, hiding his large muscles, and this year had decided to put his textured brown hair into long dreadlocks swung over one shoulder. They no longer really noticed his black eyes—pupil-less or all pupil, depending on how you thought about it—or the shimmering abalone horns that curled up through his hair. But every time they saw him, they stared at his skin. It was the color and texture of acorn caps, covered in tiny brown scales with a little sharp spike every few inches. Something about the repetitive texture was endlessly fascinating to touch or watch.
“What happened?” He couldn’t hide his annoyance. They had promised to wash the dishes, to sweep, to go shopping if possible.
They bit their lip, tasting blood.
“Shaka?”
They looked away, back to the dark window. In it was reflected a 30-something androgynous person, with pale skin and unevenly cut black hair and gray eyes. But beneath that reflection flickered another, truer one of an unearthly creature with lightly lavender skin, ears sharply pointed behind its head, and gray eyes slitted like a cat’s.
I know I normally write Star Wars, don’t get me wrong that’s not stopping. But I’m writing a bioshock fic with Jack and Delta, lot of fun and fluff! Have a taster!
Father. You’ve awakened.” The lovely British voice exclaimed before looking at Jack tilting her head. “Father? You found a little mother?” She asked taking off her helmet showing a normal, young woman. Not a girl. “Oh he is fiesty.” She smiled “hello mother, I am Eleanor the big sister. Your eldest daughter.” She gave a nod.
“So you are a big sister, the daughters of big daddies.” Jack asked, still holding out his wrench at the women. “What is you’re role? Support for the big daddies?” Jack caughted his voice hurting now.
“Little sisters grow up, we can no longer make Adam. What else is a daughter to do but tend to her sisters and work with her father.” Eleanor explained looking him over. “Father has never brought a mother home.” She escorted them to a private room with all the little sisters peaking in knowing they are not allowed inside.
“Jack, my name is-“
“Is Mother to my sisters and I.” She turned around to leave the room, watching as Delta sat jack onto a bed? At least Jack thought so? His legs where spread open now thanks to the stirrups, Jack didn’t feel scared or worried. This felt natural. Watching Delta walk to the wall and start to change?
Delta pushed against the wall, Metal arms came out to change his armor. Stripping him down to the thinnest part of his armor, changing the drill hand to an actual hand. The helmet was off next. It reminded Jack that they were all human at some point.
The right side of Delta’s face was scared from a gunshot, four wires connected into the wound to the life support. His mouth was scared showing the right side of his teeth hardly stapled together. The left side had a tattoo of his name. “Delta 23”, blind in his right eye and the left over of black hair.
So I finally watched Avatar and I could spend an entire day gushing about it. I started writing almost immediately. Here is a random scene I couldn't get out of my head. Can you tell im fascinated with Zuko?
She expects him to erupt. She's known him a long time and though she'd never pretend to understand him, she has become good at predicting him. So she expects him to erupt, that fire he carries inside him spilling over.
What she doesn't expect is the flat, blank stare that takes over his features as the head of the palace guard tells him of Advisor Ling's treason. Somehow the calm scares her more. As Zenia finishes speaking, she switches to a parade rest, allowing her gaze to shift just to the right of the Zuko's shoulder. The quiet of the room seeming incredibly loud.
She glances at Toph who is lounging on the large sofa on the far side of the room and who doesn't seem as discomfited by Zuko's non reaction as Katara is. She wishes for a moment that Sokka was here. He'd know what to do, but someone has to help Uncle make it through the meetings today.
"Do we know if he acted alone?" Zuko asks reasonably.
Zenia shifts uncomfortably before her gaze goes back to her monarch.
"It is unlikely, however we are unsure. He hasn’t talked yet, but given the timeline we put together…" she trails off.
Zuko nods sagely. "Thank you Zenia. You may go."
Zenia salutes crisply and leaves. Katara's eyes don't leave Zuko who sits in the bed, staring ahead, still too blank. The stillness is absolute, until Zuko's eyes seem to snap back into focus.
"No… No. No. No." He mutters to himself, scrambling to the edge of the bed. He stands before she can say anything, wavering drunkenly on his feet for a beat.
"Zuko! What the hell?" She shouts, rushing to his side. He turns on her, the fire flashing in his gold eyes enough to stop her in her tracks.
"Stop, Katara. I'm going to see him." He says matter of factly. He marches across the room, flinging the sleep robe from his body as he strides into his washroom.
"What?" She asks blankly, her confusion holding her in place. She throws a disbelieving glance at Toph who is now sitting up straight, but has made no move to interfere.
"You heard me." His voice floats out of the washroom a moment before he reappears, dressed in a much more formal robe, his hair still hanging loose and his crown missing.
He strides toward the door and she steps in front of him, blocking his path. He turns a hot glare on her and she holds her hands up in surrender, hoping to calm him.
"Zuko, just think about this please. You can barely stand. There is nothing you will learn that couldn't wait until later." Zuko's glare doesn't change.
"You can come with me or you can stay here. Either way, I'm going." He says hotly.
"Toph?" Katara says pleadingly.
Toph shrugs and stands. "Guess I'm going with sparky."
Zuko immediately sidesteps Katara and walks out the door. Katara doesn't try to hold in the disgruntled sound that she makes as Toph walks by her.
"Zuko?!" She hears Suki ask as he strides out the door.
Katara jogs a little to catch up to them, falling into step with a confused looking Suki.
"He's going to go see the general." Katara says sharply. Suki's head snaps to face her, before a resigned but determined look settles in her features. She says nothing, just increases her pace to keep up.
They must make an impressive sight as they make their way to the cell, Katara thinks. The Fire Lord with the youngest earthbending and waterbending masters, as well as the head of the kyoshi warriors as his personal guard. The young guard on duty straightens almost comically when he sees them and Katara has to fight to keep mildly hysterical laughter from bubbling out of her.
"I want to see the prisoner." Zuko growls out.
The young guard looks uncertain but steps aside, turning to open the cell door.
Zuko doesn't falter. He strides into the cell, head held high, regal in every sense of the word. Suki steps up beside the young guard, and makes an abrupt about face, settling in to wait. Katara sighs and follows Zuko into the cell. This is a bad idea.
The general is sitting on a bench in the corner of the room, looking only minimally worse for wear. His hands held in what looks like a metal mitten with a chain connecting him to the ground. Seeing him, knowing what he has done, Katara’s instincts scream for his blood, scream to make him beg and regret attacking Zuko, attacking her friends, and she has to grit her teeth to push the rage away.
Zuko stops in the center of the room, regarding his old advisor with icy amber eyes. The general looks up, smirking snidely. “A visit from the fire lord himself. I am honored, milord.”
A muscle Zuko’s jaw twitches. “I want to know why.” He says flatly.
General Ling laughs, a cruel mirthless sound. “Always asking the wrong questions boy. “
“Is that it?” Zuko questions lightly. “Was I just too young? Too young for you to listen to? Too young for you to respect? I want to know why, after all this time, you decided you wanted my head.”
The General glares at him. “You know why now. As for the why in general, well you know that too. This whole bit is an exercise in banality. Poor prince Zuko.” he says, cruelty dripping from his words. “Never as smart as Iroh, as brave as Lu Ten. Not as conniving as Ozai and certainly not as strong as Azula. We have a weakling on the throne. The runt of the litter. Better to be taken out back and fried. The fire nation deserves a real leader, not a boy playing at being an adult who would have us bow and scrape to the unworthy!” By the time he finishes he’s all but screaming, face blotchy and red, contorted in impotent rage.
Katara sees red. Feels the blood rush to her face as a roiling hurricane batters against her better judgement. Her breathing has sped up and she wants to tear this man to pieces. The laugh startles her back to the present. Zuko’s laugh is loud in the small space, as clear and pleasing as a bell. A cold, disturbing facsimile of a smile graces his features.
“Was that it? Was that your best shot? You thought that would what? Anger me enough to kill you?” He steps closer to Ling, limbs loose and comfortable as he tilts his head to regard the man more closely. The scowl that graces Ling’s face says that Zuko is not far from the mark.
“Do you have children advisor Ling?” Zuko asks mildly, the change in topic abrupt enough to give Katara whiplash. The first hint of fear clouds the general’s eyes. Zuko steps in closer to him again. “You do right? A daughter if I remember correctly. About 14 or 15?” The general swallows audibly.
“Do you know how I got my scar, general?” The ice in Zuko’s voice seems to drop the temperature of the room. “You do, don’t you? Wouldn’t have been there though. Administrator to some no name village. No... you wouldn’t have been invited to a royal agni kai.” Zuko is close enough for the general to reach, even with his shackled fists, but he doesn’t seem to care. He stoops slowly in front of the frozen man. “You know I never passed out. My father was skilled enough to make sure I was awake through the whole thing. I can still remember the smell of skin burning. ‘You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.’ Those were the words your worthy fire lord said as he maimed his son.”
Katara's heart stutters painfully in her chest as bile, bitter and raw rises to the back of her throat. She’s never heard Zuko talk about it. He's never even told them what happened. She had heard from Iroh. Just two lines. ‘It was his father. He was 13’ She tries not to picture what he says. Feels her stomach roiling against this knowledge, threatening to make her sick. She glances over at Toph who looks similarly horrified, almost physically pained.
With his back to Katara, she doesn’t initially see that he is undoring his robes, it’s not until the finely embroidered sash falls to the floor that she realises.
“And this… this I got from your powerful fire princess. No, I want you to look at it.” he all but growls at the general as he tries to avert his gaze. “She shot enough electricity at me, her brother, to stop my heart. I remember the scent of my skin burning then too.” he ends, so, so quietly. “But where are your worthy leaders? Hmm? You will look at me when I speak to you!” Zuko grits out. The general’s gaze flicks immediately back to Zuko, though Katara can see the force with which he is gritting his teeth. “You know what skill I have, advisor Ling? I survive. Your powerful warlords are nothing but scars on my skin. And I am still here.” The general’s face is ashen now. Zuko finally rises, still too close for Katara’s comfort and gazes down his nose at Ling. “I want you to know Ling, that your daughter is safe in this country from scars like mine, because your weakling fire lord deems it so.” A small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a sob escapes Ling’s throat. Zuko doesn’t look up from re-tying his robes. “I want you to know that if you do not cooperate, you are going to spend the rest of your life in a very small cell somewhere the light of Agni will never again touch you. But I assure you, whatever happens, I will find the rats you were working with and purge them from my country, no matter how long it takes.” He looks up and makes paralysing eye contact with the general. “And when I do, I will come remind you of this conversation. Because I survive.”
Someday I'll live just outside of town on a plot with minimum 3 oak trees and a gazebo and a stream with people who talk to me like a person and never try to make me feel like I'm stupid and crazy
