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and-stir-the-stars · 1 year

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@dire-kumori has an au where Scooped Mike gets time-travelled to before CC and Liz's deaths, and he's filled with such blind rage and self-loathing upon seeing his younger self that he kills young Mike over and over again in a time loop that young Mike barely even understands. Guess who wrote a one-shot for it? (I'm also tagging @serenefig and @cloudwhisper23 bc I feel like you'll be interested in reading)

word count: 3,715

“Have fun with your friends’, brats. Don’t even think about coming back until morning unless you want to spend the night outside, ‘cause I won’t bother unlocking the doors for you.”

Cold lines of metal pressed grooves into Mike’s back as he leaned against the front door threshold and waved his siblings goodbye. His voice resounded in sharp echoes across the tree line; he spoke a bit too loud considering that his little siblings were only a few feet away, but then again, that was the point.

You never knew what things were lurking in the shadows, listening and lying in wait for the moment they could get you alone. Sometimes, however, you could use that to your advantage.

Michael’s gaze roved over the tree line as his siblings turned their backs on him and walked down the driveway. The trees surrounded their entire house in a near-perfect circle; shadows crept beneath the trees’ gnarled, grasping finger-like branches. As the sun slumped further down in the sky, the shadows drew steadily closer and closer to the house like a tidal wave of darkness begging to be held back no longer.

The eldest Afton’s jaw clenched as he dug his teeth into his gum with even more ferocity. Slowly, he pulled his Foxy mask from the top of his head to cover his face.

He didn’t have to be afraid with the wicked smile and sharp teeth covering his face. It was an assurance that Michael could be strong and brave even when– no, especially when he was all on his own, just like the pirate fox he felt so much for.

If a monster wanted to chase him down, then so be it. But as long as Mike had his mask on, the monster wasn't the only dangerous thing around.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Electricity shot through every nerve ending in Michael’s body. The jolt of adrenaline made every hair stand on end, and heat roared through his veins like wildfire as Mike crouched behind the garage wall with his fingers white-knuckled and half-numb against the cool metal of his bright red bat.

Each breath passed his lips at a crawl. Everything around him seemed to blur and fade to gray as Mike focused his entire being on the harsh slam of rubber soles coming closer and closer.

A million ghostly aches, sharp and dull and stabbing and pressing aches of a million undeaths, all sparked to life with increasing intensity as the monster drew closer and closer, but Mike pushed away the memories of aches and pains assaulting his limbs.

He only needed to get one good shot in.

He smelled the bastard long before it got close. It was something like the curdled cup of milk that Mike had found in his room last week, the maggot-infested animal carcasses he and his friends would poke at when they found them on the side of the road, the stank of rotten eggs– all those putrid smells and more clinging to the bastard's skin in an eye-watering stench that made Michael’s stomach churn and his throat burn on principle.

Mike's heart hammered in his chest, almost to the same beat as the footfalls chasing him.

There was a flurry of movement as the sicko ran past Mike where he was crouched out of sight behind the wall.

The reaper's footfalls quickly slowed as though somehow aware that it had been duped, but Mike was already moving.

The decaying monster didn't even have time to turn around before Mike jumped forward and slammed his bat into the back of its head.

His years' worth of practice hitting baseballs did nothing to prepare him for the vibrations that rocketed painfully through his arms and shoulders and all the way down his back, nor for the sickening crack of a human skull shattering under his hands.

The monster went down, but Mike could only stand there even as a voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to run. Vomit burned his throat at the curdled blood and the dark red and purple slimy skin that clung to the metal of his bat before it fell to the ground with a wet plop beside the monster. Thick droplets of the creature’s ice-cold blood dribbled down Michael’s face and smeared against the teen’s lips as he stood there in shock.

Boney claws wrapped around Mike’s ankle. The sharp pain of bone digging underneath his skin jerked Michael’s mind back to awareness, and he brought his bat down on the thing's wrist just before it had time to yank him to the ground.

The fingers didn't let him go even after the impact of Mike’s bat ground the compact bones along the creature’s wrist into fine dust held together only by moldy stretches of tendon and skin.

Michael brought the bat down on the thing's arm again and again and again before its other hand finally snaked around and grabbed hold of the slippery dark red metal.

Michael yanked the bat closer, cursing himself for giving the reaper a chance to rip his weapon away. But the reaper didn’t; instead, it used the momentum of Michael’s action against him.

Mike's vision went red with pain as the handle of his bat flew back at him and slammed into his lips with enough force that Mike heard his plastic mask crack on his face.

Except Michael realized a split second later that it wasn’t just his mask that had cracked. Something sharp and coppery exploded in Mike's mouth and the teen choked on shards of his own teeth as the fractured remnants slid down the back of his throat.

The thing's fingers were still locked around his ankle, and the moldy strands of tendon and skin keeping its bony purple hand attached to the rest of the monster's body snapped apart as Michael stumbled backward with tears in his eyes and dark red blood dribbling down his chin. He was too stunned by pain to react even as the monster peeled itself off the ground with one arm; its other, handless appendage hung limply against its side in a mess of unnatural angles kept together only by thin layers of rotting skin.

Its neck snapped down to look at its obliterated arm, but somehow, the creature looked almost bored as its empty eye sockets focused on the mangled stretch of flesh and shattered bone attached to it. The monster’s remaining fingers latched around its broken arm before ripping the twisted limb from its shoulder with enough force that its entire body jerked at the motion.

The shattered lower part of the arm flopped to the ground in a pile of putrid skin, and the reaper's head snapped back up and its empty eyes focused directly on Michael with its fingers still grasping the remains of its upper arm.

"You're going to regret that,” it whispered in the grinding croak reminiscent of a bag of gravel and forks shoved down a garbage disposal.

"M-Make me."

Michael had wanted to sound stubborn and strong, but the words cracked in the air and passed his lips in nothing but a whimpering stammer as he tried not to gurgle on his own blood.

He should have ran the second he had gotten a hit in on this– this stupid son of a bitch. Things were– Everything was already going so wrong.

The creature lurched at him. Michael didn't have time to run or stumble away; he barely had time to raise his bat.

The reaper still had the upper part of its broken arm in hand, but Michael didn't notice the sharp end of broken bone protruding from the severed arm until the jagged point had already buried itself inside Mike’s shoulder.

Two pinpoints of light sparked to life in the monster’s eyes, and its gaping black eyes looked directly at him as Michael screamed.

The reaper ripped its broken arm out of Michael’s shoulder and aimed for the teen's heart.

Michael just managed to ram the end of his bat into the reaper's neck at the last second.

It was a weak blow. The monster’s close proximity didn’t give the teen enough room to maneuver the long bat and Mike's arms and wobbly legs trembled dangerously, worsening his ability to strike. But by some miracle, it was enough to make the monster stumble a few steps back, though it grabbed onto the teen's bat and ripped it from his hands as it stumbled.

Michael didn’t fight to get the bat back. He turned on his heel and ran.

The teen’s hands clawed at his own shoulder as the monster’s footfalls echoed behind him once more.

Tears stung Michael’s eyes as he remembered that bloody, grimy, disgusting bone piercing into him. God only knew what kind of germs that thing had put into his system– what if the wound got infected?

Not that an infected wound would matter if Mike didn’t keep himself alive and out of the creature’s way.

Michael forced the pain and panicked delirium away. He had to focus; this was the important part.

The reaper was just behind him, following at a pace closer to a walk than a run.

Somehow, that was so, so much worse. The monster didn't have to run to keep up with him, and it knew it. It would always catch him in the end, like a hunter casually strolling after the blood trail of a wounded deer. The creature would never tire nor stop chasing him, and it was just a matter of time before Mike got too tired to go on running from it.

‘No. No, no, no– not this time.’

The monster’s slower pace did make this more difficult, though. Michael couldn't move too fast. He needed to always be just out of the creature's reach, or he would risk the monster getting distracted or frustrated and trying to cut him off by going a different route.

This would have a way better chance of success if Mike could keep the monster right where he wanted it.

Michael dashed into the house from the garage and raced up and down hallways and from room to room. As he ran, he ducked and jumped periodically to avoid tripe wires, avoided stepping on any rugs, and danced around jagged pieces of metal and nails and blades that had been embedded into the hardwood floor.

He really couldn’t afford to mess up this part. Any wrong moves or missteps would have to be avoided at all costs. But with any luck, the monster hunting him wouldn’t be so careful.

As he raced up the steps, he made sure to skip the fifth step down. But as he reached the top, it slowly dawned on him that things had been unusually quiet. As far as Mike was aware, the monster never seemed to react much to pain, but there was a distinct lack of surprised grunts or infuriated yells, or whirring gears and mechanical parts snapping as traps were set off.

Chest heaving as he panted, Michael turned and looked down.

The reaper was standing right there at the bottom of the steps. It looked exactly the same as it had when Michael had fought it in the garage, like it hadn’t set off a single trap during the chaotic chase.

Its head was tilted back, staring at the kitchen knives and heavy hooks used to hang endoskeletons that Michael had stolen and hung from the ceiling over the steps. They were hung high enough that Mike could race up and down with no problem, but the taller monster should have gotten a nasty surprise as it came after him with that single-minded focus it always seemed to have.

Instead, the monster looked up at the trap with an annoyed expression before meeting Michael’s eye.

Keeping its head ducked low, the reaper placed its foot on the first step.

Michael’s heart leaped into his throat and he stumbled down the hallway, struggling to breathe properly through all the panting and the blood still flooding his mouth and throat.

How was that thing still walking?! Mike had set death traps up in every inch of this house; it just wasn’t possible that the reaper could have stumbled through the house without setting a single one off!

The thing on the steps was still way, way too quiet. Had it seen him skip the fifth step down?

Mike turned for a split second to see if the reaper had gotten to the top steps yet.

A sharp pain sliced through Michael’s throat.

That single second of distraction had been enough time to throw several hours of analyzing the layout of every trap he'd set up in this house out the window.

The sharp feeling wrapped around his entire throat as his own momentum forced him further into the trap. The wire tightened, and suddenly Mike’s feet left the floor entirely and he slammed against the ugly red wallpaper.

Hurricane was a small town. One where there wasn't much to do, especially when your father worked at the most interesting place in town and you had to spend nearly every day there for hours on end.

Michael and his friends had explored every nook and cranny and forgotten place there was to find in the town. Including the abandoned railroad tracks in the surrounding woods.

Those tracks were so old that the rusty spikes meant to hold them together could often be found lying on the ground around the tracks, ripe for the taking; even the ones still riveted inside the old tracks could mostly be removed with some determination, and the sharp, rusty, six-and-a-half inch long spikes were attractive prizes to a group of rowdy teens with nothing better to do.

Michael had stored a lot of them away in his closet over time.

Sticking the rivets through a slab of plywood and nailing the plywood plank into the wall upstairs with the sharp ends facing outward had been a lot of effort, just like a lot of the traps he had spent the entire day building, but Michael had deemed it a worthwhile venture because he had been certain those spikes would be able to do some damage.

And Michael had been right.

Michael had put six or seven of those spikes through the plywood, but when Mike slammed into the wall, he only felt one big blast of pain set his back on fire. He didn't even have time to scream before a gush of blood and vomit slid through his throat, staining his shattered teeth and turning his inhuman screech into a quiet gurgle.

The wire stayed wrapped around Mike's throat and cut deeper as his feet–- suspended by the railroad spikes and wire too high for the teen to reach the ground– thrashed wildly in the air.

Michael’s vision went black as the thrashing jostled the spikes, widening the holes in his back and sending the sharp, rusted rivets deeper into his flesh until some of them scraped against his ribcage.

Gasping, Michael sucked in one shaky breath after another and tried to ignore the desperate need to claw himself upward. His throat and lungs were filling with liquid, but he wasn't drowning in water. There was no surface he could rise above to make it all stop.

What a strange sensation it was to drown in your own hallway without a drop of water in sight.

Bloody fingers clawed at the wire around his throat, but he couldn't pull it away any more than he could clear his airway.

Salty tears leaked down Michael’s face in a futile attempt to clear away the blood still staining his chin. Between one blink and the next, the red wallpaper and family picture frames in front of the teen were replaced by two hollow black eyes and putrid purple flesh flecked with varying shades of green mold that peeked out of the crusty white bandages holding its splitting skin together

The monster cocked its head at him, and Michael finally got a good view of the damage he had dealt it earlier. The side of its head had caved in like deflated basketball or a sandcastle under an oncoming tide, and yellowish-white shards of bone jutted out from the jelly-like mixture of blood and decaying muscle dripping from the cracks in its head.

The white pinpoints of its eyes flashed up and down him curiously, watching the blood flow down Michael’s body and drip into an ever-widening pool under his feet. The thing's lips had long ago rotted away, but Michael realized as raspy, cracked laughter spilled between the thing's dried-out, wrinkled gums and bared yellow teeth that the monster was smiling at him.

"You bastard!" More blood dribbled down Michael’s chin and gurgled inside his throat. Mike tried to spit it all out like this was nothing more than his morning mouthwash routine. "You bastard!"

Floorboards moaned under the reaper's feet as it took another step closer. Michael flinched as it did so, and immediately bit back a cry at the white-hot pain of spikes shifting inside his back and scraping against bone and organs.

"That looks like it hurts," the reaper rasped.

Michael’s tears stung as they leaked into cuts on his face from his earlier fight with the monster. He had felt hot and sweaty before from all the running and fighting, but now his fingers were iceblocks against his neck as he struggled with the wire digging into his flesh. A frighteningly cold, bone-deep chill cut into Michael's form, and the child trembled as he struggled to breathe through the blood and the pain.

He couldn't run. Couldn't fight. The monster– the reaper– was going to kill him now.

At least the pain will stop, a voice whispered in the teen's head.

A quiet sob shook the young teen's core. He needed the pain to stop so fucking much, but he didn't want the pain to stop– he wanted to live.

But if he was going to die, at least it would be on his own terms.

"Go ahead," Michael growled. "Jus– Just g-get it over with."

The creature cocked its head at him again, like it had been too distracted watching the blood seeping from Michael's form to bother listening to what he had said.

"Just d-do it!" Michael sobbed. "K-kill me, you– you wrinkly, p-puss-filled ball-sack! Come on! Just– just– get i-it over with and kill me!"

The reaper took another step closer. "No."

Blood-shot eyes locked onto the reaper's gaping eye sockets. "Why?!"

Wasn't that the point?! Wasn't that what this– thing– had set out to do, over and over and over?!

The reaper's hand settled on Michael’s chest. Mike didn't have the energy left to flinch or be wary. He only met the reaper's eye in pained exhaustion.

But then the reaper pushed.

Michael screamed as his prized railroad spikes dug deeper into him until his bloody back was finally pressed flush against the wall.

One of the railroad spikes went all the way through Michael’s chest and stabbed into the reaper's palm, but the monster didn't seem to notice. It ripped its hand away before latching onto one of Michael’s wrists as the teen frantically tried pulling the reaper's arm away from him.

"You want to know why?" Its voice whipped against the air in a wild hiss.

The dull hallway light gleamed off the dark red liquid coating Michael’s skin as the reaper shoved the teen's blood-stained hand in front of his face before it snarled at him. "Because no matter how many ways you try to run or fight it, you will always bring this hell down on yourself with your own hands. You did this, Michael."

'You're insane,' the teen wanted to say, but there was too much blood in Mike's throat for him to talk, or even to breathe. He tried shaking his head at the thing, but the wire was starting to cut frighteningly deep inside his throat. Michael could only stare at the monster in front of him with wide-eyed horror and beg for it to just end this, like the bastard was supposed to do when it caught him.

The reaper released Michael’s wrist, and the teen's arm fell limply down to his side.

He should do something; he should fight. But his energy had been draining away with every second he spent hanging on his own death trap, and there was so little left inside him.

He couldn't even lean away as the reaper lifted its only hand, moved its fingers around the edge of his mask, and traced the curve of his head with an almost gentle touch.

The reaper's broken fingers paused on a string looping behind the teen's head. It latched onto the string and pulled, ripping the Foxy mask off of Michael’s head.

The reaper's teeth ground together as it glared down at the bloody mask before letting the plastic slip from between rotten fingers and fall to the bloody floor with a wet and heavy thunk. And without hesitation, the reaper slammed its foot down on the only thing that had ever made Michael feel strong.

Hearing the sharp crack of plastic as the monster decimated the mask and shattered Foxy's maw into pieces wrenched a hopeless sob out of the teenager's chest.

The reaper stayed still. It didn't move further away, nor did it move any closer.

It only watched as Michael struggled to free himself from the trap one last time before finally giving up.

Michael struggled to gulp down another shaky breath through his sobbing but was rewarded only with more blood in his lungs and pain searing every nerve ending until even the most minuscule movements lit every cell and nerve in his body on fire.

Through it all, the reaper stood back and watched with a smile.

Not wanting to see the monster's smug, rotten face or the blood staining his own body anymore, Michael could do nothing but close his eyes and wait for the moment when the last drop of blood would drip from his body and all the pain would finally end.

(Michael had the sinking feeling that death wouldn’t be that easy of an escape.)

#tw violence #tw blood #tw injury #tw child death #tw death #tw corpse #tw body horror #tw torture #anyway did you enjoy the parallels to the Bite of '83?#and the slight parallels to pizza sim?#and the motif of mike's foxy mask making mike feel brave and like he has a chance until the reaper rips #it from his face so mike can die ''like the coward he is'' (in reaper's mind)?#ik the theme of this au is the *reaper* killing mike but i really liked the idea of #mike setting off one of his own traps and r. mike leaving him to slowly die.#because he doesn't just want mike dead. he wants him to SUFFER. and it's poetic is it not?#mike bringing about (his own) death in more ways than one. you can't escape what you are.#also ''you wrinkly puss-filled ball-sack'' ajdfajksdfhsjfks michael you think you're SO FUNNY don't you #i haven't actually written a teenage mike who isn't subdued and traumatized by the Bite before #it was fun!#10/10 would do again. young mike is so stupid and arrogant. an absolute delight to write.#paradoxical reaper wip #paradoxical reaper au #michael afton #mike afton #scooped mike #foxy mask brother #foxy mask #kats scribbles

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screwlowes · 20 days

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>:(

I know I don't rant on here too much, or talk on here, really, but I have to scream about this. I was scrolling through my recommended articles just now, and this popped up.

Now, while I do not pray to Ares nor do I particularly enjoy his mythology, I know that as a legitimate deity, he is truly a wonderful deity. He is a protector of women, he is a defender of rape, domestic violence, and war victims, and so much others. He has so many myths in which he helps people, and honestly, he and Aphrodite are pretty strong, too.

He, much like Hades or Thanatos, does not deserve to be vilified because of fictional media! I enjoy participating in fandom as much as anyone, and I'm a very big fan of Percy Jackson, but Ares is not a villain, and for this article to come not from a fandom site, but an at least semi academic site, is very upsetting.

I just had to get that out of my system, sorry

#rant post #hellenic polytheism #hellenic polythiest #religion #greek mythology #mischaracterization #tw slight rape mention #tw domestic violence mention

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liliallowed · 8 months

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first of all, closure looks sick asf!!! secondly, I just wanted to know how all the souls feel about their new... predicament...? And also sans' opinion, if he even.. wants to talk at the moment? I'm overall very curious about everything

first<prev>next

well, he's busy arguing at the moment.

his brain is a chaotic mess of children either yelling at him, screaming in pain or him screaming in pain from the children yelling at him...

at least... when they're revolting or fighting for control. he can't control his temper because they are IN HIS MIND. and his bloodlust takes effect instantly before he can think twice and take it back like he can do when thoughts turn to actions.

the LV difference causes some... unforseen side effects that will cause psychological pain to the soul exposes to it. he has to actively block his magic flow to his wings to keep the souls sane and safe which... is kinda like blocking his bloodstream? he actively has to fight against his own body just to keep them in line, but also he's SICK of them disobeying.

they still aren't used to each other.

and while this may seem cruel, even for dust, sans just views them as parasites or "tools". he's CLOSED off his empathy because he's distrustful of them having ulterior motives.

he's also heavily biased against human children due to being repeatedly stabbed by one xxx times.

he TRIES not to resort to this. but whenever someone forces control from him? (even if it means to save him from death) they have hell to go through.

he didn't want her to save him. he doesn't want ANY of their help. he was going to do just fine alone.

how the SOULS feel about him differs.

🧡 : I wanna punch him in the face.

💛: I understand his perspective but I don't agree with his methods. he's a huge hypocrite and needs to be taken down.

💚: he's just hurt. I don't think he's evil. I want to help.

🩵: I wish he would just LISTEN. he's so ANNOYING!

💙: he's a coward and a liar... mostly to himself.

💜: he's scary. I don't like him.

#closure au #dusttale au #closure #seraphim dust #tw violence #tw slight gore #or at least gorelike imagery???#it's just his magic color it's not blood

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sapphire-heart-tippy · 6 months

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Sapphire Heartverse! The fanfic

back to the beginning!

Part ???: Stitched Together

TWs: blood, violence, emotional distress, decapitation, slight body horror

“AVDOL!!” Polnareff screams, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU!!!

As soon as Avdol moves his head to face Polnareff, Tippy takes a step back. Ice peeks his head out of Cream’s mouth and sees that Polnareff is about to strike Tippy down with Silver Chariot. Ice’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. He leaps out of Cream and sprints to Tippy. Before Tippy is attacked, Ice grabs a hold of him, taking the brunt of the slashes Silver Chariot releases. Ice jumps into Cream’s gaping mouth, sending both he and Tippy safely into the void. Polnareff steps backwards, shocked at what had just happened in front of him. Avdol grabs Polnareff by the shoulders,

“Don’t do that again! You almost killed him! He doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it! That person is not supposed to be here. He needs our help, Polnareff, don’t you get it?!” Avdol pleads with Polnareff, “He’s not one of them!”

“I… I should’ve known. Damn it…” Polnareff grits his teeth and is still determined to kill Ice by any means necessary. At least I managed to slice up that cold bastard. But what the hell was that all about?

Cream releases the two gentlemen from the void. Ice steps in front of Tippy in an attempt to protect him. Polnareff looks over at the two of them, with his arms crossed, he speaks mockingly,

“What was that about saving yourself over risking life and limb over an oblivious comrade?! You're a goddamn hypocrite, Ice.” The brunette’s brows are furrowed and he gives Polnareff a disgusted and confused look,

“What in the ever loving fuck are you talking about, Polnareff?”

“Don’t play games with me, you son of a bitch.” Polnareff growls and steps towards the two. Ice gets even more enraged and gets Tippy behind him,

“Take one step closer and I’ll beat you to death with my bare hands.”

There’s a tense pause and extreme hatred between Polnareff and Ice.

“Can I say something?” Tippy chimes in. Everyone turns to look at him. He swallows a bit, fidgeting with his fingers, “I think we’re all a little… confused.”

Avdol speaks up,

“Agreed. I knew something wasn’t right from the moment Polnareff didn’t recognize you like he recognised Ice.”

Ice and Polnareff are both staring each other down, ready to attack despite their partners trying to reason in the situation. Tippy steps out from behind Vanilla,

“I have to admit, something about this situation seems off. I know why Vans and I are fighting you guys, but do you know why you’re fighting us?” Polnareff gives him an incredulous and disgusted look,

“Because your oh-so-precious master Dio somehow rose from the grave and his existence is killing my friend’s mother all over again!” Ice crosses his arms,

“That’s ridiculous. What a horribly pathetic lie. You all are after his treasure and want to dethrone him.” As Vanilla and Polnareff are arguing back and forth, Tippy’s thoughts are running frantically through his mind. He remembers something…. And it clicks,

“WAIT A SECOND.” Tippy runs to the stairs.

“Tippy!” Ice reaches out for him and follows his partner, “Where are you going?! We have a job to do!”

“I know! I-I-I need you all to follow me!” Tippy tries to articulate his idea. Avdol nonchalantly follows Tippy.

“A-Avdol…?” Polnareff hesitates. Avdol turns to face Polnareff. The white haired man blurts out while pointing at his partner,

“Y-you can’t be serious! You’re just going to trust this weirdo and his pantless boyfriend?! Th-they literally tried to kill us just a few seconds ago!” Polnareff angrily gestures to Ice with both palms, “This asshole even succeeded, in case you’ve forgotten!”

Avdol turns to look at Tippy, straight into the eyes. Something is telling him to follow Tippy because it is urgent. He looks back at Polnareff,

“When has my intuition ever been wrong?” Avdol chuckles with a slight smile. Polnareff is at a loss for words,

“Ah- wuh- y-... but-...” He looks back and forth between Avdol, Tippy, and Ice, who has his arms crossed with a glare at Polnareff. Tippy and Avdol head upstairs. Ice still has his arms crossed, he glances over at Tippy and Avdol. The brunette looks back at Polnareff, scanning him up and down. With a slight scoff, he follows the other two. Polnareff is uneasy the entire time but chooses to trust Avdol’s intuition. Avdol is unafraid, he was never afraid to begin with, he has no doubt in his mind that Tippy knows what he’s doing at this very moment.

As they walk down the hallway, Tippy begins explaining,

“Mr Dio told Lucky Charms and I-”

“LUCKY CHARMS?!” Polnareff’s voice cracks in disbelief, speaking through a burst of laughter, “THAT’S YOUR NICKNAME FOR HIM?!” Vanilla’s cheeks burn a little bit, he sighs and shakes his head with his eyes closed. Avdol chuckles, covering his mouth a bit with his fist to make it seem like he’s clearing his throat. Ice covers his eyes and forehead loosely with his hand while Tippy is innocently confused. Xe tilts xis head,

“Hm? Y-yes?” Xe rubs the back of xis head and continues, “Um, anyway… Mr Dio told us that the reason his body is rejecting him is because somebody is holding a grudge against him. This can also cause otherworldly issues to occur. So… if my theory is correct… the only way to get Dio to stop unintentionally killing your friend’s mom is to stop the grudge.”

“Okay, great,” Polnareff looks around, gives Ice a dirty look, then looks at the back of Tippy’s head, “Now how are we going to go about doing that?” Tippy turns around with frowned brows and a nervous smile as he cautiously walks backwards into the kitchen,

“Alright, so… don’t freak out, but…”

Tippy opens the fridge, seeing Jonathan is dormant in his resting jar. Xe carefully picks up the jar as to not give him a rude awakening,

“This is… Jonathan Joestar.”

Avdol gasps sharply, covering his mouth loosely, Polnareff gives out a shocked shout and recoils in horror. Jonathan’s eyes shoot open, making the two men observing him shriek and back away even further. Avdol’s eyes are wide, Polnareff points, trembling,

“Y-y-you’re ALIVE?!”

Vanilla nonchalantly saunters over to Tippy’s side then crosses his arms as if to say at Polnareff and Avdol, “The only reason I’m choosing to trust you is because my partner hasn’t given me the ‘okay’ to maul you both to death.”

“Mr Ice?” Jonathan turns to him, then turns around, “Tippy?” He turns to face Avdol and Polnareff, “Who are these gentlemen right here?”

“Jonny, we need your help. These two are part of that group who is trying to kill Dio. I think I have it all figured out.” Tippy says. Jonathan, for just a moment, has a glimmer of hope in his eyes. But it quickly fades once he realizes just what exactly that might entail.

In Dio’s spell room

“And what, dare I ask, are we looking for?” Polnareff speaks with an annoyed tone. Tippy looks around under the desk,

“Hold on a second, Polnareff.” Tippy looks around while Vanilla holds Jonathan in the jar. Avdol observes Jonathan with astonishment and wonder,

“How peculiar…” Jonathan looks up at him. Vanilla gives Avdol a squinting side eye. Avdol notices this, darting his eyes back and forth between Jonathan and Ice,

“Oh! I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s interesting. This enchantment Dio put on you is very intriguing, I had no idea there was ever such a thing. This defies all laws of life and death.”

“I thought the same thing, good fellow,” Jonathan speaks, “Mr Ice.”

“Yes, Mr Jojo, what may I assist you with?” Ice leans in attentively.

“I wish for you to take me out of my jar, if you please.” Jonathan tells him. Vanilla sets the jar on a shelf, and carefully pulls out the head man, dripping with elixir. He sets him on the ground, much to Avdol’s surprise. Before he can say anything, Jonathan starts bouncing to Tippy’s location all on his own. Avdol’s eyes are wide and jaw is slacked. Vanilla glances over at Avdol’s surprise, they both lock eyes with each other.

“Vans, I can’t find it.” Tippy says with defeat.

“Can’t find what, Termite?” Ice’s expression softens, which Avdol notices immediately. Polnareff, who was snooping around, spins around with an amused look,

“TERMITE?!” He guffaws, then mumbles under his breath but still enough for everyone to hear, “A guy like Dio has to hire the weirdest freaks, not to mention the ones with the weakest minds so he can manipulate them to do whatever he wants. Pfft!”

Ice sneers at him then rolls his eyes and looks at Tippy. Xe speaks,

“There’s a spellbook I was looking at in here. Well, there were a few of them I was looking at, but like- yeah. Okay so uh…” Tippy looks in a drawer one last time and finds it, “ Aha! The spell in this book showed how to reanimate limbs from corpses, including but not limited to… severed heads.”

“Alright, so you found the spellbook sire used on Mr Jojo. Anything else?” Ice presses Tippy for more information.

“Here’s the weird thing. I think Mr Dio knew about this one spell that was on the very next page.” Tippy remembers looking through the book, “It was a limb reattachment spell. Not just any reattachment spell, this one could make you into an amalgamation of stolen body parts. Yeah, they didn’t even have to be your own body parts. I think Mr Dio probably had a feeling that somebody was going to eventually find out… and he…”

Suddenly the room is filled with a slow clap coming from the doorway. All of the men in the room sharply turn to the noise. There he is. Dio leaning up against the doorway, clapping with a smirk on his face and his eyes glowing yellow. Polnareff and Avdol are on guard, but for Vanilla and Tippy, they hardly change their stances. Dio chuckles and closes his eyes,

“Very good job… yes, Tippy, my friend, you did very well. But.”

He disappears, to everyone but Vanilla’s shock. Ice turns around first to see Dio behind Tippy. That irritating pang of, “my partner is in danger, I must defend him” strikes Ice’s heart, causing his abs to tense up and his jaw to clench. Vanilla cannot do anything. He is once again stuck at an impasse. Avdol once again notices Ice’s odd behavior, especially from what Polnareff has told him. Dio hums softly, his voice deeply echoing in Tippy’s ears as he gets closer to him from behind. Dio gently rests his black taloned hand on xis shoulder, tapping lightly. The sharp ends of his fingernails poke xis flesh, even through xis crop top. Tippy looks to Vanilla for comfort and reassurance. Ice feels just as helpless as Tippy in this situation.

Dio places his other hand on Tippy’s other shoulder. The blonde vampire leans in to Tippy’s ear to whisper in a low voice, his lips tickling his ear just barely,

“I know everything, little man… you cannot hide anything from me… and I’m not talking about the spellbook.”

Tippy’s eyes widen and he grunts softly. Polnareff leans over to see Ice’s expression is that of extreme worry. He shakes his head in disgust and disbelief, but says nothing. Dio continues to speak to only Tippy,

“If you want to know how I know… it’s been quite obvious since the beginning. You bring that man to his knees just by your presence alone. But, my dear, I do the same thing. Look at his face… what do you see?” Tippy gulps and looks at Vanilla. He is tense and anxious, unsure of what he should do, he is frozen in time. Dio’s hooded eyes go from piercing into Ice’s eyes, to looking at Tippy’s profile. He gives a devious smile, “I see a broken man, confused and lost. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we…?”

Dio taps his claws onto Tippy’s shoulder, digging into his skin ever so slightly, just enough to assert his power over this gentleman. In any given moment, Dio could end the life of everyone in this room, but he chooses not to. He’s playing a game. If anyone loves games, it’s Dio. He inhales, parting his lips and whispering once again,

“You want to play the hero. You’re getting way in over your head, fella. Don’t even try it.” Dio continues, “I can hear your heart racing… give me the spellbook, imp.” Tippy’s frozen in place, trembling slightly, chills running up his spine. Suddenly, he finds the courage to respond,

“No.” Tippy turns around to face Dio, who has a very unamused look on his face. Ice bites his teeth, his hands are trembling. He knows there’s nothing he can do, and he is battling his instincts to protect his beloved. Avdol immediately notices that Ice is ready to lunge at his own master at any moment, which completely baffles him. Avdol looks to his partner, but Polnareff has no idea, he is fixated on what Dio and Tippy are doing instead.

“Mr Dio, you have to hear me out! This could put an end to the century old feud you have with these Joestar folks. History doesn’t have to repeat itself, we could-”

“Enough. You have already disrespected me enough by bringing this filth into my personal quarters, not to mention making nice with them.” Dio glares down at Tippy. He then turns his attention to Ice,

“Ice.”

“Yes, sire.” Vanilla responds.

“I am yet again disappointed in you. You made a promise you didn’t intend to keep and became fragile. You chose to obey an underling over your master.” Dio’s amber eyes are hooded and serious, “You seem to have forgotten who pulled you off the streets when you were at your lowest and covered in filth, being stepped over by passersby, starving and begging for your next meal like a stray dog.”

Dio places his hand on the spellbook Tippy is holding, “You made a lifelong vow to me, Ice. I made you the man you are today. You will aid me and tell this rodent to release the book…” Dio doesn’t say anything after that, only his eyes say or else…

Vanilla is paralyzed. His jaw is painfully locked together. Polnareff chimes in,

“Give it up, Dio. Even your own little servant boy has turned against you. It’s you against all of us.”

“NO.” Ice turns quickly to Polnareff with anger and offense, “I didn’t say that I would join your little gang.” He stalks over to Tippy, his anger subsides and instead turns into concern,

“Listen to me, Tippy… please. Give Lord Dio the spellbook. I know you want to see the good in everyone, but these people don’t have our best interest in mind.”

“Vanilla, no!” Tippy holds the book closer, “You don’t get it! This is important! Not only could this stop the Joestars from attacking, but it could give Jonathan his body back.”

“And what of Lord Dio?” Vanilla gestures to his master, “What will become of him?!”

“He can have his own body back-”

“Impossible.” Dio steps towards his two servants, “The only way to do such a thing would be to decapitate me, Dio, and allow Jojo to sit upon his body once more. How do I know that you aren’t trying to force me into helplessness?” The vampire reaches for the spellbook once again. Avdol and Polnareff can’t find it in themselves to do anything but watch in confusion and tension.

“It’s not like that, Mr Dio!” Tippy holds the book. Ice slowly steps behind Tippy, pressing against his back. Tippy looks up at his partner. Dio steps closer to Tippy as well,

“Just hand it over… and you will go unpunished.”

The blue haired man looks up back and forth between Ice and Dio. Tippy finds a way to not be touching either of the gentlemen. In the blink of an eye and by the sound of twinkles, Tippy uses invisibreak to get away from them.

“Tippy?!” Ice’s brows are frowned with worry, he can’t believe his love would disappear to get away from him. Dio is irritated,

“Find him and bring him to me.”

“He’s-” Ice looks at the doorway seeing Tippy holding Jonathan and the spellbook.

“Tell me this, Mr Dio. Why didn’t you just grab it from me?” Tippy asks. Jonathan’s face looks devoid of hope, even though there is the strongest potential he will get his body back. Dio shakes his head. Tippy continues,

“Could it be that if this book is damaged in a certain way that all of the spells you cast in here will be undone?”

The room is dead silent. Polnareff gets impatient,

“Okay, what is going on here?! Avdol, let’s smoke this bastard already!” Avdol puts his arm out in front of Polnareff,

“Shh.”

The white haired man is absolutely baffled. Tippy opens the spellbook and touches one of the pages as if he’s going to tear it.

Dio takes a step forward, about to speak, but he catches himself. Tippy narrows his eyes at Dio. Ice looks down at his master, knowing that if any of the spellbooks are damaged…

“I knew it.” Tippy speaks, “Is it true that if I tore out one of these pages… everything on that particular page will be undone?”

Dio says nothing, only glaring at this rotten little imp.

“And, by that logic, if I tore every page out of this book, every single spell will become nullified?” Tippy tells him, his dark brown eyes just as piercing as Dio’s. The blonde vampire and the blue haired human both glower at each other, the tension is potent. Suddenly, Dio closes his eyes and chuckles,

“You…” He looks around the room at everyone then back at Tippy while wagging his finger, “I knew there was something about you I liked… that silly little loveable idiot personality was just a facade, was it not? You place a sheer mask over your true self in order to bring the guards of everyone around you down. You’re almost as diabolical and cunning as I, Dio.”

Tippy is unwavering, Dio continues to chuckle deeply, his bellowing voice fills the room,

“You had me fooled, that’s for sure… but no longer. I know what your true intentions are. You want to usurp me and take over this place. You already have a strong hold over my most powerful servant.”

“That’s not what I-” Tippy is interrupted by Dio disappearing. Tippy turns around, expecting to see Dio. Jonathan sighs and watches while still under Tippy’s arm. Dio backs Tippy against a bookshelf, making Vanilla instinctively lurch forward, but he catches himself and steps back with a pained expression on his face. Dio leans down, trying to intimidate Tippy even further,

“But it is. It is what you want. Who wouldn’t want to be rich and powerful with servants around every corner waiting on you hand and foot? You're just as greedy as I am.” Dio watches as Tippy hides the book behind his back. The vampire waits a few moments before stopping time with The World once again. He tries to pry Tippy’s hands away from the book, but what he didn’t count on was Tippy holding one of the pages with his finger so tightly, that even the slightest tug could tear it. Dio gasps quietly once he notices and stops what he’s doing,

“Damn it.” This revelation has him think… could he have figured out The World’s power? No… no he must just be prepared in case I try to take it away from him. What a… brilliant idea from such a foolish person. Dio, still in stopped time, turns to see the other three gentlemen. Ice looks like he’s ready to pounce at any second. Ice. He can’t be serious. Dio looks back down at Tippy, scanning his face. Gratuity must’ve done something irreversible to that man’s psyche for him to act in such a silly way. Time proceeds and Tippy’s eyes dart to where Dio is, now slightly to the right of him,

“You glitched a little there.”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about.” Dio speaks. Tippy looks down at Jonathan then back at Dio,

“You have to trust me.”

“Tippy, it’s hopeless.” Jonathan finally speaks up. Tippy holds him closer, looking down with worry, “What? No. N-n-n-o, look! You guys are just going to have to trust me on this, please!”

Polnareff brings out Silver Chariot,

“I’ve had enough of this.” Avdol tries to hold back Polnareff but he slips out of his grip,

“POLNAREFF!”

Silver Chariot slashes his rapier at Dio. Dio moves out of the way. Tippy gasps and uses invisibreak, taking both himself and Jonathan into the void. Vanilla screams,

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” He shoves Polnareff out of the way and yells, “TIPPY!!! TIPPY!! NO!!! COME BACK!!” he frantically runs out of the room to find him. Dio gives Polnareff a quick glare before disappearing out of the room.

“Great. Let’s go!” Avdol shakes his head. He and Polnareff run out of the room after the others.

Meanwhile

Tippy is running, Jonathan tightly clutched under his arm, with the spellbook in the other hand.

“It’s pointless, dear friend. It’s oh so pointless.” Jonathan speaks dryly, with an unamused expression.

“No it’s not. We just have to find a way to decapitate Dio and perform the spell. Trust me, he’ll get his body back too.”

“Oh, I trust you. It’s my brother who has little faith in you. Which is why this entire debacle is nothing short of pointless.”

“No! Jonny, it’s not!” Tippy continues running down the hall.

“Considering the fact that Dio just might dispose of you after all of this and severely punish Mr Ice for this little blunder of yours, you’re walking on a blade right now.” Jonathan looks up at Tippy.

In an instant, Tippy slams face first into Dio’s chest, knocking xem backwards. Jonathan rolls out of reach and smacks into a wall, the spellbook slides across the floor. Dio looks at Jonathan, who is in the opposite direction of the spellbook, which he soon turns his attention to. In just a split second, Tippy has to make the decision: grab Jonathan or grab the spellbook?

He disappears in a cloud of sparkles, making Dio scramble to grab the spellbook. It’s too late, Tippy has it in his hands.

“Give it HERE!” Dio growls and reaches for Tippy with both arms. Tippy disappears once again, but he’s too slow. Dio has Jonathan in his hands.

“Let him go, Dio.” Tippy says.

“I’ll let him go once you unhand that book.” Dio taps his claws on Jonathan’s face, making the head wince. Tippy takes out Sapphire Heart, who points xis spear at Dio.

“Foolish you are, mortal… How dare you point your weapon at me.” Dio hisses. “You honestly think you can defeat me? You have no idea just who the hell you’re dealing with, you petulant moron.”

Vanilla sprints down the hall to see Dio and Tippy. Sapphire Heart has xis sights on Dio, unwavering determination to defend xis stand master.

“TIPPY!!” Vanilla shrieks. Dio glances over at Vanilla,

“It’s about time. Ice…” Dio points at Tippy, “Make him give me the spellbook. I don’t care what you do to him, just make him hand it over.”

Vanilla is stuck once again.

“That is an order.” Dio demands. Vanilla closes his eyes and rushes to Tippy, holding both of xis arms behind xis back.

“Vanilla! What the hell?!”

“I’m sorry…” Ice can’t look at Tippy. He shamefully turns away and pries the spellbook out of Tippy’s grasp as gently but firmly as he possibly can. Dio smirks. He has won. The vampire chuckles and holds out his hand to retrieve the spellbook. Vanilla looks at his master, then down at Tippy. The brunette leans down in Tippy’s ear,

“It’s for the best… everything can go back to normal. I will protect you… I… love… you.” Vanilla speaks, his voice is low and filled with pain. Tippy is defeated… Ice has both of Tippy’s wrists in one of his hands, the spellbook in the other. He brings Tippy with him to Dio, about to hand the book over to him,

“Sire.”

“What is it, Ice?” Dio is impatient.

“Before I give this to you, vow to me that you will do no harm to Tippy, no matter what may happen. No harm will fall upon Tippy. I will take whatever punishment you feel is deserving for his crimes.” Ice looks down at Dio. Dio looks up at him, very nettled,

“I vow. The book. Now.”

Ice hands over the spellbook and releases Tippy from his grip. Dio grins, showing his pearly white fangs between his plump pink lips,

“See? Now was that so hard? Hmhmhm, all this for a-” Dio opens the spellbook and his expression is that of pure shock and rage, “H-..?! Wh-!?!?!” He flips through the pages. It’s not the spellbook. Dio shoots a look of pure shock and rage at Tippy, “YOU. YOU TRICKED ME!” He flails the book upwards, “This is nothing more than a-a-a A FURNITURE CATALOGUE!!!!” Dio throws the book onto the ground, revealing the magazine pages.

“But-?! How could-?!” Ice looks at the magazine on the ground then quickly back at Tippy. Dio shoves Jonathan into Ice’s abs, forcing him to hold the disembodied head. The vampire stomps towards Tippy,

“Where is it?! Where is the spellbook, damn you?!”

Tippy looks up into Dio’s eyes, unafraid.

“Answer me, you fool! Answer me! Don’t make me repeat myself.” Dio grabs Tippy by the shoulders. Ice is enraged at this act, but attempts to keep his voice calm but noticeably firm,

"You made a vow, Lord Dio."

"Yes, Ice. And do you know what that vow entailed?! You give me that damned spell book and I wouldn't lay a hand on your little boyfriend. BUT since there is no spell book here-"

Polnareff and Avdol step into the room, Dio is very upset already and things just got even worse. Polnareff uses Silver Chariot and tries to slice up Dio, but he disappears. This makes Ice grab Tippy’s arm and take both xe and Jonathan into the void with him. Avdol stands beside Polnareff with Magician’s Red.

“Where is the real spellbook, Tippy?” Ice asks, holding onto Tippy tightly, letting Jonathan float. Tippy takes out his phone and turns on the flashlight, making Vanilla squint, “And- and just what exactly were you planning to do?”

“Vanilla, I’m going to be honest here. It feels like the only person who actually had faith in me was Avdol, and he’s not even on our side.” Tippy tells him.

“You can’t be serious.” Ice crosses his arms and shakes his head, “Why would you choose to trust a stranger over Lord Dio?”

“There’s something about that Avdol guy… When I was fighting him, things started to get a little weird.” Xe tells his partner,

“Before Polnareff tried to attack me, Avdol was talking to me about The Big Bloop and what I remember. Long story short, I told him I wasn’t part of the original crew, he told me that I needed to leave and never come back because Polnareff told him what was supposed to happen. He feared that history was going to repeat itself regardless of my presence.” Tippy notices Jonathan is floating away, so he pulls him back,

“Avdol said that he doesn’t think I… he said I don’t deserve the same fate you had.”

“I see…” Vanilla looks to the side with a disappointed frown, eyebrows furrowed.

“And I tried to tell him something but Polnareff- yeah you know the rest.” Tippy says. Ice looks at Tippy, then at Jonathan, then back at Tippy,

“Tippy, I need you to tell me the truth.”

“Yes?” Xe looks up at him.

“Will Lord Dio still be alive after this spell takes place?” Ice asks, a very concerned expression plastered on his face. Tippy nods with determination,

“I promise he will survive. Both he and Jonny will have their respective bodies back.”

Vanilla looks into Tippy’s eyes,

“...Alright, Termite. I believe you.” Vanilla kisses his beloved’s forehead. Ice peers out of Cream’s mouth and notices the three gentlemen are gone, “Oh no.” Ice hops out of Cream and pulls out the other two.

“Sire isn’t here, and neither are Polnareff or Avdol.” Ice looks around the room.

“That means we have to hurry. Come on!” Tippy speaks. The two of them start jogging away, Jonathan frantically bouncing to follow them,

“Slow down! Slow down!”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Mr Jojo.” Vanilla picks him up. They head back to the spell room,

“So how did you do it?”

“Well, when Mr Dio backed me up into the bookshelf, I had this idea where I grab another book off of the shelf that was just like the spellbook. So as Mr Dio was talking, I was feeling around with one hand for another book. Turns out, the spellbook’s cover was loose. So somehow, all with one hand, I took the cover off of the spellbook and hid the actual pages on the shelf, grabbed a magazine and placed it inside of the cover!” Tippy says.

“That is absolutely… impractical, improbable, and unbelievable… color me impressed, Termite.” Vanilla tells his partner with a little smile.

“So, are you going to help me cut Dio’s head off and perform the spell?” Tippy asks.

“I’m going to try. If what you say is true, then everything should go back to normal…”

“May I interject, please?” Jonathan asks, “If all of this is so, then why wouldn’t Dio just do this all himself? Why would he subject me to this kind of humiliation while he gets to wear my body and parade my severed head around like some sort of sick trophy- and I just answered my own question.” He pulls his lips to a tight line with hooded eyelids, realizing what he just said. Tippy opens the door to the spellroom,

“Well,” Xe goes over to the bookshelf xe was backed into, “I think that but also, the fact that maybe he was afraid that it would backfire and he would be in your place, Jonny.”

“I suppose.” Jonathan halfheartedly agrees. Tippy finds the bare spellbook and flips through it,

“Okay, now to flip to the reattachment spells-”

BANG!!!!

A very loud crash causes the mansion to rumble.

“That can’t be good.” Tippy says.

“LORD DIO!” Vanilla yells. He quickly turns to Tippy, his hair flipping over his neck and face from how fast he turns, “Please, we have to hurry! You have to promise me that Lord Dio will still be alive.”

“I-I promise!” Tippy stammers. Vanilla grabs Tippy’s arm and they rush out of the room. Jonathan sits there and watches them walk away. Vanilla, predictably, comes back and apologizes to Jonathan and carries him.

Meanwhile

Dio has Polnareff by the neck up against the wall while Avdol is trying to set Dio ablaze. Polnareff is grabbing at Dio’s arm, trying to get released.

“Once again I am surrounded by idiots.” Dio continues to choke Polnareff. Magician’s Red attempts to swipe at Dio, but he moves out of the way. Magician’s fist crashed into the wall instead. Dio drops Polnareff, who gasps for air and holds his throat. Silver Chariot slashes at Dio a few times, even stabbing him in the stomach.

Dio flexes his abs, causing Silver’s rapier to get stuck.

“W-WHAT?! HOW?!”

Dio uses The World’s hands as if they were gloves, so he can grab onto Silver’s arm,

“Imbecile.”

Magician’s Red swipes at Dio, singing the right side of his body,

“GRAAUGHH!! Why you…”

Once Dio turns his attention to Avdol-

SLAAAASHHH!!!

Dio is paralyzed, his eyes are wide. Slowly, his head slides off of his body, which is brought to its knees and falls over, bleeding from the neck. The body Dio once stole from Jonathan is lying motionless on the floor in a pool of blood. Dio’s head rolls across the floor until Tippy stops it with his foot. Xe used Sapphire Heart's diamond spear to slice his boss's head clean off of his stolen body.

Dio looks up at Tippy, his cheeks squished between xis boot and the cold linoleum,

“I should’ve known…” Dio spits out some blood, then grins with a weak chuckle, “But this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this state.”

“Vanilla, I need you to perform the spell.” Tippy asks, calmly yet urgently. Ice is completely stunned at seeing his master’s disembodied head underneath the foot of his beloved. Suddenly, Tippy feels something slimy and hot wrapping around his leg. Dio is using his neck veins to move around. With a sharp gasp, xe tries to kick Dio away.

“VANILLA!!!” Tippy yells and points to the body…. Jonathan’s body. Vanilla’s heart is racing, so many conflicting and painful emotions rush through his head as he scrambles to bring Jonathan to the motionless body. He pops off Jonathan’s neckbase, sets him to the neck of the body, then kneels down in the blood and reads from the spellbook,

“Cold is the body that lies before me. With my hand I bringeth warmth back to thee. I say it now to hear my plea. For I breathe in the life you once lost back into you again, so it shall be.”

All while Vanilla is performing the spell, Dio is attacking Tippy with his veins and fangs. Tippy tries to pry Dio off of him,

“STOP!! STOP IT!! MR DIO, PLEASE!!”

Avdol rushes to Tippy’s aid, pulling Dio away from Tippy, but Dio’s veins are very strong. Polnareff joins in and tries to pull away the veins from Tippy. Avdol lights his finger on fire and begins to singe some of the nerves on Dio’s neck.

“OW!! You bastard!” Dio hisses.

Jonathan’s body glows brightly and hovers for a brief moment. In a flash, the body floats back down, revealing the new Jonathan…

The man who was once only a severed head, has retrieved his body. Jonathan struggles to sit up. He looks at his hand, very badly struggling to gain control of his limbs. Ice has already abandoned Jonathan in order to help Tippy. Jonathan lies on his back and faces the group of men frantically trying to pry Dio’s head off of Tippy. Everything starts to fade to black, Jonathan closes his eyes and is now unconscious. Ice grabs Dio with the help of Avdol’s flames to cause the veins to retreat. Dio spits blood in Vanilla’s face, with a hateful hiss,

“Traitor…”

Ice is visibly trembling, from adrenaline, fear, anger, and a plethora of emotions all at once. He does everything in his power to hold Dio down on the ground as he kicks the spellbook to the other three,

“The… spell on the… next page…!!!” Ice strains to hold Dio down. The vampiric head chomps down on Vanilla’s arm, making him grunt in pain, “HURRY!!!!” Dio clamps his jaw down even harder, causing Ice to cry out in pain. Tears well up in his eyes, not because the bite from Dio hurts… but because of the situation he has been put in. Ice was saved by this man. He trusted him. He loved him with all of his being… He has done everything he could to try to make Dio happy… and now here he is, holding down the severed head of his beloved master as he clamps down on his arm… Ice squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold back heartbroken tears.

Tippy grabs the spellbook and kneels down to Dio,

“Something lost you need to find. Hear my prayer as the restless before me unwind. Look now and do not turn your eye blind. I bestow upon thee a new form shall you bind.”

Ice’s brown hair falls down over his tear soaked face as he shudders from both physical pain and emotional pain.

Dio loosens his jaw grip until he stops biting Vanilla’s forearm. Dio’s head starts glowing a bright white, hovering up to the height he used to be before he lost his body. Tippy rushes to Vanilla’s aid and looks at the wound Dio has caused Ice…

“Let me see…” Tippy speaks so only Vanilla can hear. Ice shows the deep bite mark, bleeding and covered in his master’s saliva. The fang marks are very visible and are the deepest. While Dio is getting his body back, Tippy brushes Vanilla’s hair out of his face to reveal that man’s crestfallen milk chocolate brown eyes, filled to the brim with tears. Tippy quickly wipes away his tears, making sure Avdol and Polnareff don’t notice. Without needing to say a single word, Tippy knows how much this entire thing had broken Vanilla’s heart… the pain… the realization… everything hitting all at once. Dio’s torso is finished in the blinding white light, and his legs are soon to follow. Tippy takes out a napkin from his pocket and gently dabs Ice’s wound with it. It’s all he has, but the gesture is enough to bring this big strong man to tears yet again.

Ice stifles a hiccup. Watching Tippy do his best with what little he’s got in this very moment… This is what it feels like to have somebody I love care about me. He thinks. Tippy looks up at Vanilla and wipes his tears away once again, then softly plants a tender kiss on his dampened cheek.

Suddenly they hear a loud thump. All of the gentlemen turn to look and see Dio’s nude body curled up on the ground.

“Is he…” Polnareff’s eyes are narrowed, “Alive?”

“Is Jonathan alive?” Avdol points at Jonathan’s unconscious body. Everyone turns to look at Jonathan, who is still breathing but unmoving. Dio doesn’t make a sound, but he is breathing and curled up on himself with his back to the others.

A few hours later

Tippy has patched up Vanilla’s wound, while the Stardust Crusaders converse amongst themselves. Polnareff and Avdol explain what happened to Jotaro, Joseph, and Kakyoin. This puzzles the other three, but admittedly Jotaro and Joseph have been through just as strange of events.

Avdol makes his way over to Vanilla and Tippy to speak,

“I knew there was something about you, Tippy.” He taps his temple, “You and I… we’re on the same wavelength.”

Tippy chuckles,

“Thanks, Avdol. You know, I had the same feeling about you. Well, I mean I did miss every time I tried to end you!”

“Haha, and you almost got me one time!” Avdol laughs, “You’re pretty good with that spear of yours, you had me actually worried for a little while. I was like, ‘damn this guy is good.’ and that disappearing power? Absolutely incredible!”

“You’re one to talk! You had me on my toes back there, man. I was trying to trick you, going here and there and everywhere. But you know what they say,” Avdol and Tippy say in unison, “You can’t trick a trickster! Jinx! Ahahahaha!” They both laugh. Avdol points to Tippy and says to Vanilla,

“Don’t you let this guy go. Hang onto him, got it? You got yourself a good one.”

“Oh. There is no need to worry about that.” Ice nods and looks at Tippy, “I intend to spend the rest of my life with him…”

“Hey.” Avdol says to Vanilla, catching his attention. Avdol looks up at Vanilla, “I can see it in your eyes… They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and you… your soul has been damaged. But much like a liver, it has the power to regenerate itself and repair the damage over time.” Avdol scans Ice’s face, then sets the palm of his hand on fire, “Unfortunately, in some cases… the damage can be so great that nothing can repair it…” Avdol examines the flame in his hand, “but don’t let that discourage you from living a full life with your beloved.” Avdol inhales, “Yes, your stand will forever be a reminder of the trauma you’ve faced in your life, but you can use it to your advantage. Turn your hurt into something beautiful.” Avdol blows out the fire in his hand, letting beautiful twinkles of embers float away. Ice is at a loss for words at this very moment, all he can do is nod in understanding. Avdol smiles at the two of them, but is called over by Joseph,

“Avdol!”

“I’ll be right with you, Mr Joestar.” Avdol calls back to him, then turns around to the couple, “Take what I said to heart. Turn your hurt into something beautiful.” Avdol heads back to the group. Polnareff shakes his head and says loud enough for Vanilla and Tippy to hear,

“Let’s get the hell out of here. I never want to see this god forsaken mansion or,” he points with pure hatred at Ice, “that man ever again.”

The Stardust Crusaders say awkward goodbyes and quickly escape from Dio’s mansion.

A few days later…

Zzzzziip! Tippy zips up a blue sparkly suitcase,

“Well,” He playfully dusts his hands off, “That’s the last of my stuff.” Tippy and Vanilla take a look around Tippy’s old room. It’s empty. The walls are no longer covered in drawings or posters, the dresser and closet are empty, the desk is cleared, and the bed no longer has sheets.

It’s silent. Tippy looks around with his hands on his hips, gently nibbling the inside of his cheek. Ice walks over closer to Tippy, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. Tippy looks up at his partner. Vanilla inhales,

“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Tippy asks with a curious little head tilt.

“I mean that,” Vanilla touches Tippy’s suitcase, “You can stay, you know.” his voice is a bit quieter. He holds Tippy’s hands, “You can stay here. With me… forever… things don’t have to change.”

“Vans… I can’t.” Tippy’s brows frown and he looks down at their hands together, “You know I can’t stay here forever. I have things I need to do back home. I have my own obligations.”

“Please.” Vanilla lightly begs his beloved. They both look into each other’s brown eyes. Tippy places his hand on Vanilla’s cheek,

“I can’t… I’m sorry, Vans.” Xe leans up and kisses his lips delicately.

Vanilla helps Tippy take his things to the front door before he leaves for the airport.

“So… this is it?” Ice asks.

“That’s it!” Tippy says. That’s not what he meant, but he says nothing. The brunette sighs while Tippy gets everything ready. After a while he finally blurts out,

“What if I came with you?”

“W-what?” Tippy asks.

“What if I packed my things and came with you? I don’t have much. I can leave this all behind.” Vanilla pulls Tippy in by the small of xis back and interlocks their fingers as he lightly dips xem, “I told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to spend a thousand lifetimes with you, plus a thousand more after that.” Vanilla leans in closer to Tippy, “I want to be with you until the sun dies, until the universe dies, until we have to find each other all over again once the universe resets… I want to be with you through the end and the beginning of time.”

Tippy giggles, then it turns into warm laughter as xe wraps xis arms around Vanilla’s shoulders, pressing xis forehead against his. They kiss each other, smiling in between each peck.

“I… I would love that, Lucky Charms.” Tippy says to his beloved. Vanilla smiles with such warmth for the man in his arms… but that smile fades,

“Lord Dio… I have to notify him of my absence.” Vanilla carefully stands Tippy back up and turns to go to one of the library rooms. He turns back, “Wait right there, my darling. I will be back. I promise… and no matter what happens… I will forever love you. I will do whatever I can to make sure I feel your loving embrace once more.”

Ice quickly makes his way to each library room he can until he finally finds his master,

“Sire.” Vanilla speaks while in the middle of the doorway. Dio and Jonathan were in the middle of a conversation, but they turn their attention to Ice. Dio sets a book down on a desk,

“What is it, Ice?”

“My lord…” Vanilla slowly gets on his knees with his head bowed, “I come to you as a humble servant… remember what you said to me on the day you chose to bring me into your home? You told me that I can have one wish and no more… I told you I didn’t need wishes because everything I ever wanted was already granted just by being accepted here. Then you said that if I could think of anything, anything at all, you would grant it for me.” Ice gulps, “Sire… I would like to use my one wish.”

Dio watches in amusement at his servant’s behavior. The blonde turns to look at Jonathan, who isn’t surprised but taken aback a little by the suddenness.

“Very well, what is your one wish, Ice?” The brunette bites his lip and hesitates. He inhales and looks up at Dio with pleading eyes,

“I wish to join Tippy. I want to go with him back to his home. Please, sire, I wish to have a plane ticket to join Tippy and be with him forever.”

Dio glances at Jonathan, who is giving a warm and knowing smile to Vanilla. Dio sighs,

“Is this really your one wish? You wouldn’t wish for him to stay here with you forever?”

“...I have made my decision, sire. I… I want to go wherever Tippy goes. I want to be tethered to him as I was once tethered to you…”

“I see.” Dio taps his cheek with his taloned finger, “Very well then… I unbind you to me. You are free to leave with Gratuity. Your services are no longer required anyway, considering I have a second set of hands around here.” Dio nudges Jonathan with his elbow. Jonathan shakes his head and speaks,

“That’s all well and good and all, but our dear friend here still needs a ticket to catch the same flight Tippy has. Are you just going to pull that out of thin air?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Dio smugly has a plane ticket in between his index and middle finger.

“Wha-? But how did-?” Jonathan is interrupted by Dio bending down to hand Ice the plane ticket,

“Here.” Vanilla’s hands tremble as he delicately takes the plane ticket,

“Thank you, sire. Oh, thank you so much. Thank you.” Ice says.

“Yes, yes. Now hurry along and pack your things…” Dio waves him away. “Oh… and I do expect you to visit whenever possible. Hmhm. Goodbye, Vanilla Ice… you were the best servant I have ever had.”

Ice gives a slight bow to Dio and rushes to pack some of his things from his bedroom.

Dio taps his cheek again and looks at the doorway with a sigh,

“Now where am I going to find another obedient servant boy with a cute buttox?”

Jonathan playfully hits his arm,

“Dio!”

Meanwhile

Tippy is sitting on his suitcase at the front door. Vanilla runs down the hallway with his suitcase rolling behind him,

“TIPPY!!!!”

“Hm?”

“TIPPY!! I’M!!” Vanilla pants and rushes up to Tippy, “I’m *pant* I’m coming with you.” He wraps him up in a hug and shows him the plane ticket.

The couple end up moving into the quaint little one story house they had built together, with the money Dio had paid them. Dio and Jonathan adjust to living together after getting their bodies back, the Stardust Crusaders go on to live lives of their own, and things are safe and sound. The disappearing void dwellers live a happy, peaceful new life together in that comfortable little house and even get married and have a son together…

The End

#sapphire heartverse #sapphire heartverse fanfic #tw blood #tw violence #tw emotional distress #tw decapitation #tipvans #jonathan's head #sapphire heartverse good ending #tw slight body horror

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 4 months

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Hi, do you take requests for x readers? Im really wanting some natemare x reader (they/she pronouns) fluffy cuddles maybe a cute date? Protective and mildly possessive Mare has my heart lol hes so precious and i love him, maybe its a date and Mare left to get drinks or something and a creep wouldnt leave y/n alone so Mare has to step in etc? Its okay if not that and its okay if you dont write x readers too ^-^ thanks :P

Call me Lyxie or Lyx ^-^

(for anon, ill be either Lyxie/Lyx or ^-^ anon if theyre free :P)

Weeeeell, this is a tiny bit awkward, considering the role I wrote Natemare into for Goretober 2022 (sue me, I took inspiration from FNAF lore.) But I'm still happy to write for him again! I really appreciate your patience. Hope it's okay!

(I am SO, SO, SO SORRY this took such an incredibly long time to post! The Goretober stuff and my last-minute Halloween Special Story had already been keeping me busy, AND THEN CHRISTMAS SEASON CAUGHT ME SO OFF-GUARD THAT MY HEAD IS STILL SPINNING FROM IRL CHAOS. I guess I should've expected that, because Christmas is always like that, but whatever.)

(Also, this is kind of my first time writing an x reader type story, or one specifically in a romantic sense, at least. So, sorry if this comes across a bit awkwardly 😅)

(Trigger Warnings: alcohol, eating/drinking, unwanted advances/creepy behavior, body horror, slight physical violence, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

___

You can be described as someone who’s skilled in rolling with the punches.

Now, rolling with the punches doesn’t always mean being able to understand things that really aren’t meant to be understood, but it seems you’ve got a certain knack.

If you didn’t, then how else would you have found yourself in a nice relationship with a banshee-esque spirit?

Yeah, your and Mare’s first meeting had been a little awkward, considering you’d been sabotaging a cult that was trying to hold blood rituals in his adopted brother’s name, but you two still became fast friends afterwards. (‘Matter of fact, the adopted brother in question is a pretty chill guy, too. Shockingly chill for an eldritch abomination in disguise, at least.)

Really, dating Mare has helped open up more of reality to you. Pretty much every aspect of the human world has a counterpart for no-so-human entities. (Yes, you sort of already knew about that, but thanks to Mare, you’ve been able to actually explore it for yourself.)

For example: the setting of your latest date.

Holy Water Distilling Co. was one of many establishments owned and controlled in Phantom’s domain.

By day, it was a tidy bar offering a pool table in one corner and a stage in the other.

By night, it was. . .well, the same thing. The only parts of it to change were the clientele, as well as certain items on the menu.

One particular evening, Mare just so happened to be up on the aforementioned stage, alongside a few of his musician-buddies. You, meanwhile, were seated at the counter, watching and listening as he performed.

(Not that you minded this arrangement. Mare’s affinity for music was what you initially bonded with him over, after all. You’d tagged along on his gigs before, and he’d never failed to make it a good time.)

Patiently waiting for him to wrap up his band’s last song so you two could enjoy the rest of the night together. . .

“Y’know, it’s always easy to find some nice toys in this place,” an unfamiliar voice whispers from just a few seats away. “But I never thought I’d see a worthwhile human around here.”

. . .and trying your absolute damnedest to ignore the stranger who just couldn’t seem to take a hint.

Similarly to Mare and Phantom, the stranger in question could almost pass for a human. Just not at the moment, since he’d obviously taken off whatever disguising veil he used (those were pretty popular among this crowd for many reasons).

His eyes bulged from their sockets, lacking both pupils and irises. Just two orbs a little larger than the average tennis ball, coming in a shade of dark pink that looked more toxic than fluorescent, ever-so-slightly rolling around in his head as he stared at you. The grin he aimed in your direction would’ve been creepy even without his particular mouthful of oily-looking needle-teeth.

You ground your jaw, feeling one of your hands curl into a fist on the bar counter.

The bug-eyed stranger seemed to catch onto that body language. Though you didn’t look at him, your peripheral vision still allowed you to see how his smile fell.

“What? I don’t get any gratitude for the compliment?” Mr. Bug-Eyes asked, his voice changing from smug to indignant in a heartbeat.

“If you really think that being called a toy is a compliment,” you finally murmur in a clipped tone, “then you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“Oh, c’mon. I know what girls like,” Mr. Bug-Eyes retorted. “I’ll just never understand why you’re all so repressed.”

“I think you’re mistaking repression for self-respect,” you observed.

You kept your focus on the stage, on Mare and his bandmates. You knew they were on their last song for the night’s performance. The music was winding down, but it was still awesome as ever. He’d asked for your help with lyrics and fine-tuning a good few times in the past, and that had been flattering enough.

But the fact that he was having such a good time singing the stuff that you helped him decide on. . .well, you weren’t sure when you’d stop riding that high, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Fine, fine. I get it: you don’t want things to move so fast,” Mr. Bug-Eyes piped up again, nudging his bar stool a few inches closer to you. He didn’t seem to notice how you automatically nudged your own chair a few inches further away. “Can’t I just get your number, honey? It’s clear you need someone to talk to.”

“I’ve already got that covered,” you replied. “That’s how having friends works.”

“That’s big talk for someone who’s here all alone,” Mr. Bug-Eyes sneered.

You feel your knuckles turn white. “I’m not alone.”

“Well, if that’s the case, your company isn’t paying enough attention to you.”

“That’s none of your damn business,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down. Yeah, you weren’t shy about potentially clocking this guy in the chin if he tried anything, but you still didn’t want to cause a scene. Not when Mare was wrapping up his gig, so close to finally coming offstage and continuing his date with you. “I already told you: I’m. Not. Interested. If you were half the guy you think you are, you would’ve left me alone after the first time.”

Mr. Bug-Eyes gave a melodramatic sigh, and a sickeningly sweet smell permeated the air around you. It almost instantly caused the first stage of a migraine to flare along the bridge of your nose. You shook your head, blinking as your eyes grew watery way faster than necessary.

A chill raced down your spine as you registered the weight of a hand on your head, ruffling your hair.

You jerked back, slapping it away. “Get away from me!”

The quick motion, combined with the smell, caused you to lose your balance. However, instead of collapsing onto the floor, you felt yourself being caught. Despite your now hazy vision, it took no time at all for you to recognize the colorful tattoos adorning your rescuer’s arms.

Relief sliced through the awful type of adrenaline that was thrumming through your head.

From there, things moved pretty fast.

The environment around you was a blur as clouds of dark violet smoke poured from Mare’s eyes, from his mouth, through his skin itself.

Mare guided one of your arms to rest along his shoulder, helping you to keep up with his pace.

Cool nighttime air rushed past the two of you; you almost didn’t notice the deep whooshing sound of a heavy glass door being swung open.

And before you knew it, you were suddenly sitting down again. The weight of Mare’s arm was still around your waist.

“Deep breaths. Take deep breaths,” Mare coached. There was a slight echo in his voice; his pitch seemed a bit all over the place. That always seemed to happen whenever he had too much energy, good or bad.

You nodded, following those instructions. You raised a hand to knead at your temple. Then, after a moment of scrubbing at your eyes, you realized that you were now in a completely different part of the downtown area. If memory served, you were now a far distance away from Holy Water Distilling Co.

“Are you okay?” Mare asked, keeping a firm yet gentle hold on your hand.

You finally looked over at him. His eyes were pitch-black, the purple tear tracks on his face now branching out like veins or tree roots. His skin had turned a deathly shade of gray; if you looked closely enough, you could almost see the shapes of his teeth and skull through the barrier.

Despite his obvious anger, concern and fear were still present in his features.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you eventually reassured him. Your head still felt a little funny, but now that you were away from the scent, your senses were much clearer. You didn’t hesitate to hug him, resting your head on his shoulder. He returned the gesture tenfold, sighing.

The minutes dragged along, but you didn’t mind.

“Whoever that idiot was, I think I’m gonna have to kill him,” Mare murmured after you pulled away. The edge in his voice had died down a bit, and his features were slowly but surely turning less ghoulish, but his eyes remained dark.

“I won’t stop you,” you hummed, having long-since grown accustomed to his more monstrous side, “but could that wait a bit? Just until tomorrow?”

Mare squinted at you, understandably incredulous.

You shrugged. “I mean, you seemed really excited about the movie. The screening’s supposed to start in about. . .” You glanced down to check the clock on your phone, “. . .twenty minutes from now, I think.”

Mare’s eyes widened as a surprised snicker escaped his lips. “Priorities, priorities.”

You tilted your head as you rose from the sidewalk bench. “Consider it your reward for rescuing the damsel in distress.”

“Well, when you put it like that. . .” Mare was quick to follow, locking arms with you as you began strolling together.

#the edgelord gets fed #writing requests #my writing #my stories #natemare #nathan sharp #natewantstobattle #lyxie/lyx #tw eating/drinking #tw slight physical violence #tw body horror #tw alcohol

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