Archive of Our Own

Saftey.

It was something that, in the real world, outside of this, before The King In Yellow, was rare. In its truest form, in an uncontrolled world, safety is a commodity that is not possible under mortal management.

Which is no fault of man's. They’re all malicious monsters; they all strive for greatness, strive to be known, loved, and yet in a few decades, eons, they disappear. For the ones that have done wrong, they’ve done it for naught. The people they’ve hurt will die. Just as they will. It's always a great moment when one is buried next to one's enemy. Showing no matter how much you may despise them, in death, all living things, star matter, will return to the ecosystem. For the few good ones, few and far between as they may be, all of their good deeds, the times they tried to make someone's day better, and the times they held their tongue, will be forgotten as well. No one is special enough to escape the all-through shared experience of death.

Well, no mortal is.

The King and Xher pets are due to live however long Xe decides them worthy to be. Currently, The King owns two pets.

One, Dereck Hutchens, Derlord3. A Brave, kind, intelligent Knight. The King is very particular when it comes to Xher pets, making a mortal immortal doesn't take that much; however, going through all that work for one you throw away after a few eons just isn't fun! Xe likes the Knight because of his curiosity. Humans, whether cross-species like Derlord himself, are limited beings. Their puny mind can only handle so much; most beings wouldn't have been able to withstand the journeys the Knight has gone on to find The King. Xe finds it rather flattering.

Of course, Xe's had cultists; however, Derlord is no such thing. And oh, he was so strong, it took him much, much longer to fold to The King's whims than it would a normal human. He is The King’s favorite plaything. A pathetic mutt, that Xe calls as much, that dreams of one day protecting his King.

And two, Avery, of whom is a mostly slime partially human hybrid, and is for some reason obsessed with mayonnaise. The King knows why, and The King has also had to hear him pronounce it wrong about a million times. Xe doesn’t particularly have an interest in this post-mortal. Avery instead works as somewhat of a mediator, like the dogs that cheetahs in captivity get.

Once The King won, Xe gained a much better skin-suit and was going to leave the slime to die; however, for some reason, the Knight had an infatuation with him. If Xe killed the boy, Xe’s aware the Knight would not be pleased.

(Under the power the Knight is currently at, Xe’s aware that the Knight would never be able to beat him. If Zher control wavers, something that may be caused by large, unexpected changes, that may change. The Knight thought he had beaten The King once. He may have failed then; however, it was much closer than Xe would have liked. The worst thing one can do is underestimate the enemy. He may not be an enemy, but they weren't on the same side. If he got free at least.)

So, a small sacrifice to make.

Zher pets went on little missions, journeys across the lands that Xe’s (sometimes) lovingly molded, earth and chemistry coming together to make things to keep Xer animals stimulated. Xe learned from Xer past few pets that they need stimulation, otherwise their little minds unravel. The process is adorable to watch, oh, Xe remembers cooing at the little humans, their hair long and matted as they screamed. They begged Xer for mercy, and Xe gave them a smile, the music making Xer’s metaphorical shoulders ease.

Currently, Zher pets were working in The Carcosa.

“Der!” Avery smiles, a laugh in their tone. Bracelets of blue flowers lie on both of his wrists. They walk over to the pond, where Derlord is currently submerged, watching a frog on a lily pad with much more seriousness than required.

Der startles, and he moves a little without meaning to, a side effect from being pulled from his dissociative state. The water gently ripples around him, scaring away the small creature. He wades through, slowly making his way to land and ignoring the way all his layers weigh him down, dribbles of water falling off of him with each step.

"Hello, Avery." He says, his voice slightly rusty.

Avery begins walking, small rustles from the well-trimmed grass sounding as they move, Derek following close behind.

"Seems someone got a little locked in on frogs."

-Lithobates catesbeianus, an animal that is typically found in moist environments, originating in North America, serves as a delicacy in certain regions. Due to their expansive dietary possibilities, as well as how many eggs they are known to produce, they have spread over a good portion of the world, serving as an invasive species.-

"It was an interesting species; they had those ones back on earth."

Avery glances back at where it was. It looked odd, in the few moments he saw it, a much more detailed creature than what they're used to.

"Regardless, silly, we still have things to do!" His smile seems contagious as he leads Derlord back to the church.

There had been changes due to the merging of realms. One may think of grand things, but for the small pocket-dimension the carcosa was settled in, it was mostly a small shed. Since now it was more than a click to rid the area of weeds, Derlord worked with scythes. Since you can't just pick up a flower and place it with ease, Avery is granted flower beds that surround the building, along with pots to grow these plants.

Avery walks out with a few pots, surrounding himself with tools. His job is to cultivate the flowers.

Growing cycles don't work as they used to; nowadays being more on a timer than with the seasons, which means it's a constant cycle. He trims the already grown flowers of dying mater, he moves the dying matter to the compost bin and it begins turning into bone meal, he trims the healthy flowers and begins to place them over the graves with Derlord, and then he uses the bone meal around the lake to get new sprouts, since after a few loops of taking healthy flowers the old ones die, and also get put into the bin. He doesn't think he has ever been good with waiting, but for some reason, this is something that he doesn't have an issue with.

Derlord picks up his scythe.

The blade is a black metal; he quite likes it. He is not allowed to have his sword, for weapons are not allowed in The Carcosa. When one enters, their mind is ever so slightly altered, more so for Derlord than Avery. It makes it so you’re unable to think of certain topics, makes it so people are more subservient, and so weaker minds are more likely to succumb to things like the book. The book is no longer there. After the.. Great Change, The King had to alter things, essentially babyproofing, so Xer Knight doesn’t get upset about Avery falling again.) So he gets this as somewhat of a replacement, which also assists in his job.

The sun is warm as if absorbed into his armor. His arm makes a wide arch as he cuts some of the weeds down, and taking a piece of thread, he ties up the collection of tall grass. That process continues for a while, him making a wide circle around the church. He can hear loud yet lovely singing come from the front of the church as Avery works on potting and giving the correct amounts of bonemeal and water to the new babies that are going to be joining the other plants that hug the church's side. A smile comes to Derlord's face, invisible to mortal eyes from under his helmet.

Eventually, the bundles of weeds are enough to cover his back, the large, rounded surface being slightly heavy as he walks back up to where Avery sits. He’s come at the perfect time, as the other man stands, offering him a bright smile as he picks up one of his pots, and Derlord follows him as he places it next to the building.

“Why do you place it there?” Derlord asks.

-Irrigation, a practice that's been used for thousands of years by almost every society surrounded by plant life. It works by controlling the movement and flow of water in order to ensure healthy-

He already knows why, of course, he does! He knows everything, but the surprised little o face that Avery makes, while adorable, is the exact reason he asks.

“Oh! Because of the scheduled rain thingy-mabobers, and the weird shape the roof is,” He points to the roof having a continuous U-shape, “When it rains, the water falls off the roof and into the pots if I place them right!”

A smile comes to the Knight's face, a hum leaves him as Avery follows him back to the composter.

“I’m impressed with your dedication to the plantlife of the Carcosa.” He says, his voice much warmer than he had intended it, and based on the giggle that escaped the man, he's picked up on it.

Avery helps him to lift the collection of plants onto the table next to the basket.

“Well, you remember, if we do this right, we might get to have little friends in here!”

Avery talked Derlord's ear off about how badly he wants rabbits. The King granted them frogs, yes, however, for some reason, he has the idea of a little white bunny named Mayo in his head, and refuses to let it go.

“Better hope Xe doesn’t add ants.” Derlord remarks to himself, huffing a slight laugh as he unties the bundles and places them into the basket.

Avery backs up a moment and looks over at him, little laughs catching as he breaths out. “What was that, babes?”

He straightens his back and backs away from the table, holding his head high as he walks back out of the shed.

“Huh?” Tilting his head, he moves to hang his scythe back up before walking back out of the small building.

The sun begins to crest on the horizon, ombres of oranges taking over the usually yellow-ish sky.

He glances over at Avery, “How much of your daily consumed sugars goes to creating your form?”

-In a typical slime-human hybrid, their form is made of approximately 40% sugars, having ancestors that were known as delicacies in certain places, they’ve since evolved to decrease this amount, the excess instead going to brain matter-

Avery makes a noise that sounds awfully like an ‘Eek!’, and he glances away from Derlord, and he swears he can see a slightly pink hue on their skin. “I.. don’t know.”

He lets out an amused huff and knocks his elbow into their waist.

“You could've used that as an opportunity to say either, ‘why, jealous of how sweet I am?’ or, ‘You could get a taste anytime,’ and you used neither.”

“Ah- fuck! I should!” He grumbles and pulls his arms together, pouting and looking at Derlord with something he thinks is meant to be intimidating? “Well- you know everything! I’m sorry I couldn't pick up on your-”

A sound is made by the avian hybrid that makes Avery stop. Derek knows how much Avery loves puns, and how much he loves being 'smooth', and Derek loves pointing out where Avery falls short. It's his payment. For dealing with the billions of bird puns and the 67 jokes.

"I love that," Avery says, causing Der to quirk a brow. "The little chirping things, could you do that back.. Before?"

Derek picks up a bucket and begins to walk over to the well. Avery grabs one and follows shortly behind.

"I'm..not entirely sure."

He says, dipping the bucket and getting half of the water out of it before stepping away. Avery's quiet, a rarity that makes him think he's meant to continue.

"I don't remember much of what happened before. My life, that is. I can't just.. Look and see my mother. It doesn't look like my life, and I know it as well as anyone else's.”

It was odd, for certain. To see your past, mortal self in the eyes of a God, to know your past self as well as one would a stranger. It means that he knows why things happened, why they did when he was a kid. Means he knows how much of a burden he was, how many people he's hurt, every moment if he sees the wrong thing, he knows what happened to people who've been wronged terribly, he randomly is hit with the knopage about what every single person in his life hated most about him.

Infinite knowledge works weird for him as well, rather than everything all the time, it was more of a random, unstoppable cut scenes that could be anything from the first time his mother saw him as a new born, moments of pure love and familial glory, or, understand the entirety of hydrogen bombs and have a Google slideshow of all of the horrors they've been included in injected into his brain in a matter of nanoseconds. (The reason it's set up like this is to avoid death, to put it simply. A human having all of the information in the world at once is horrible, of course, it begins the long and tedious process of tearing their mind piece by piece, so The King altered it some.) It's a lot like having a larger-than-life library, on the calmer days, where he's able to dig through moments in his head.

"I was able to make a plethora of noises."

He pauses, walking back to the lake and dumping the water in.

"I did gain that particular one after, however. Humans don't have some of the throat parts necessary." Aver dumps his bucket and sits down, and Derlord follows him in very shortly after.

He giggles, a sound that makes Der look over to him. "You're so cute."

The 'sun' makes the ripples in the water glow as Der's eyes trace over it, looking over at Avery with an odd expression.

"I find it amusing that the word you chose is cute."

No one's called him that in a very long time. All of the people who have since met their fate, not at his hand, simply due to life, and a specific many-tentacled eldritch horror he knows. In his adulthood, he's been..

"Most of the time, people choose ridiculous or an asshole."

"You were a prick back on Earth?"

Avery asks, turning over to look at him. Derek picks up his bucket and dips it into the lake water, the other man following shortly.

"I was.. Interesting." They make the short walk to the well as he figures out how to articulate himself. "I had a sense of justice people didn't like, and I wanted people to know what I thought was right. Back in my school days, I was a menace, though."

Avery chuckles and pours the new water into the well, "Can't imagine you, giving kids wedgies and pushing kids' heads into toilets."

Derek looks over, and Avery can tell he's about to be ranted at.

"What do you think I was? Do you think I was in some shitty high school movie? No, I was more.. Competitive. My old math teacher would give us challenges of above-grade-level stuff, and I was much more rude than I needed to be proving myself right to a particularly rowdy group of imbeciles."

"Oh, you were a nerd," Avery nods his head as he watches Derlord pour the water in.

He chuckles at his silence. "You seem like the type of guy who reminds the teacher about the homework."

"And you seem like the type of guy who never did the homework, and got all of your test answers from a cute girl who sat beside you and thought you were hopeless."

He pauses, watching as Derlord walks towards the shed with his bucket.

"She thought I was hopeless!?" He practically shouts as he follows after him.

"Yes, why else would she have sat with you for- practically your entire school career?" He raises an eyebrow as he puts his bucket back, then picks up a bag.

Aver grumbles and sets him down on top of Derlords, following him back outside.

"I thought she thought I was cute-"

"And liked the little drawings you gave her? Yes, but doodling on a girl's paper only goes so far; she knew you would fail and wanted to help."

Derlord sets the bag down a few blocks away from the lake, knees up to his chest, and looks at how the skies are getting increasingly darker. It's never that smooth transition anymore. Now it looks more like flashing images that are slowly taking the orange to the black of the night sky. The slime boy says he doesn't like being up at night, says it makes them anxious, and Derlord never wants to tell him the reason why the stars in the sky seem to disappear and reappear if you look too closely.

He doesn't know if Avery will ever get used to it the way he has. He’s still creeped out by The King and doesn't like the eyes.

It only takes a few moments for him to unpack the bag, taking out the tarp and a series of sticks that have been carved to make somewhat of a safe structure when put together correctly.

-Tents, something that has been used for portable housing all throughout history, and range from being made out of plastics to being made from naturally woven straw or grass roofs, along with the size, being capable of accommodating one person, to exhibits called circuses that may fit thousands.-

It was something that he was allowed to take with him throughout the different dimensions or places The King tended to throw them into. With the tent's base form, it looks just like a tarp suspended with the sticks, being able to walk through the center. For realms that have hostile mobs, they are given attachments in order to form walls around them. He unpacks the sleeping bag-like thing, unfolding it and placing it on the ground underneath the tent. He sits down on it, and Avery follows him shortly after.

The flowers, a special breed of azalea, grow and glow at night. The gentle blue catches on the water, and he looks over the rest of the mass; the yellow flicker of ‘stars’ covers what the blue isn't able to.

He looks over at Avery. Yellow eyes, dark and brooding, stare into green eyes, the color of life, a color that's meant to bring hope for Derlord. He’s glad The King didn’t mark Avery in the ways Xe did him. Their hands stay soft, their back bare from the mark of the beast-

Rude.

Maybe glad isn't the right word. He thinks if, at the end of the day, or whatever time or system he gets to see Avery in, if he never got to see those eyes, he would lose what's left of his already scattered mind.

“Der,” Avery starts, and is looking introspective over the water.

It’s the source of life of this realm, the flowers only being able to germinate there, and the only water recycling itself from there.

“Yes, Avery?” He’s expecting Avery to ask him something deep, something that he might actually have to think about or dig for, even if it's just for a moment.

“If lettuce isn't flammable because of its molecular components, wouldn't a house made out of it, like, be fireproof?”

He pauses. He draws a hand up, and he rubs his face for a moment.

“I cannot believe I thought you were about to ask something of substance.”

Avery turns, using his hands to support himself and then using one to gesture, “No, but like, hear me out, if we used immoral lettuce, that like, would be safe.”

He looks over at him and takes his helmet off, placing it next to him as he leans back.

“If you had the magic to make it immortal, why would you waste it on- a house made of lettuce.”

“Like, the structure is compact lettuce, and like, made out of different kinds.”

He takes a breath in, “Why lettuce?”

“We could add some cabbage if you're that incessant on it.”

He rubs his eyes.

“Avery, it's not incessant, insistent, and I'm not saying we should use other vegetables, I'm saying- go to sleep, Avery.”

“But, Der-” Avery starts, but Der looks back over at him, and he pauses, pouting for a moment before dragging a blanket out of the bag and lying down.

The Knight looks over at the lake, at the reflection in the water, and sighs. Not a bit of sigh of displeasure, but just.. Tired. He's been tired for a very long time. Ever since he was a kid, he’s had the bone-deep want for rest that sleep never helps.

He doesn't need to stay away. He doesn't need to keep guard. In Carcosa, there is no pain, there are no monsters that go creek in the night that may hurt Avery. It doesn't mean he can sleep.

A hand falls out. Avery, slime who's already passed out due to the day's work, has clutched Der’s suit in his sleep. It was common for that to happen, for him to subconsciously make sure Der hadn't left him. Common for in the quiet moments him to be touching Der in some way. Der looks down at him, pulling a torch from the pack and placing it.

The warm light makes him beautiful.

“He’s always beautiful,”

He crosses his legs and supports his head on his hands, looking at the yellow dots that have begun to sprout all over the field. A hum leaves him.

Their eyes are always watching, whether a sun blazing above, watching every movement, or these tiny sprouts.

The King isn't human-

Thank Me.

-That makes it so Xher interest in the Knight just seems more odd to him. Why him? He was never interesting on Earth. No one looked twice, and if they did, they never had good intentions. He supposed The King didn't either.

They only weren't interested because they couldn't see,

Thousands of tiny eyes, bright, form in front of him. They circle each other, a constant moving mass.

You make it sound like there’s something to me.

He thinks. Talking to The King doesn't take something as fickle as vocal cords. It hardly even takes words anymore; he’s gotten used to the random busts-in of his thoughts. It's weird. If anyone had told him that he would have an immortal god talking to him with electrical pulses that he somehow understood, and went on fairytale adventures every day with a being made out of slime, he would have thought to question their mental wellness.

Life blesses in odd ways.

Not sure if I would call this a blessing.

He hears The King chuckle. Not really hearing, but he feels it, feels it boom all around him, an infinitely deep and yet infinitely high tone, unescapable, such as the cries of life and the screams of death.

I figured you would make a comment on how you no longer live a life. In an infinite abyss of endless days and possibilities, no end in sight, the grasp of consciousness never ending, does it lose its value?

Because life is only worth it if it ends right?

The being hums, each thing its state, and each noise it makes inaudible to Avery.

That is the general consensus of humans.

He glances down at Avery, how his chest rises and falls, slight snoring leaving him as he sleeps peacefully.

Well, I think you would understand that my opinion might be different from the general human one.

Getting cocky, my Knight?

No, merely understanding the knowledge you've granted me alters things. Change it from what they would think.

Your thoughts are intolerably sweet.

He hums.

If you don't wish to hear them, you're allowed to stop.

A laugh.

Oh no, it’s much too entertaining for that. Do you think,

A pause, and his mind changes. An odd sensation, The King’s put a damper on his knowledge.

That he would look at the possibilities, the moments you’re thinking of, and feel anything but disgust?

He takes a breath out, rubbing his face again

King,.

He attempts to start, but is interrupted,

Ah, fix it.

My King, isn't this form of bothering me about two hundred years too late?

He can tell The King is tickled by his response.

Ah, you wish that you had been in my grasp for that long already, my Knight.

Truly, I don't.

He feels his mind come back, the sights of the future back in his sights.

Tell yourself what you wish to, my Knight.

He feels The King’s presence back away, and a breath leaves his chest.

It isn't his fault This has changed him.

Each day, each eon, he knows he is going to enjoy being conscious. Because The King is right, he isn't alive anymore. His heart still beats, he still feels the tingly sensation that encases it in the late nights back in the castle, where he and Avery are talking, and he gets to hear his laugh. It sounds like music to him. It’s all he wants; it's going to be what keeps his mind here. He won't become a shell of himself, like The King's past pets would have if left for a few eons. Because he has that laugh, that smile, knows the sensation of those teeth, his hand in his. It makes whatever The King wants to put him through worth it.

He places his hand, darker than when he was human, and nails are replaced with black claws over Avery’s.

They may not have talked about it, about them, but they have eternity. Eternity together. What's a talk about whether they're a couple? When do they spend almost every night together? What does it mean when they’ve seen horrors, gone through things beyond human imagination, together?

Some couples have almost died together, but only Derlord and Avery have looked into the face of God and lived to be Xer pet. It was odd. Only they could be for each other. In a universe with infinite possibilities.

Where everything is possible, where everything happens somewhere, somewhere in the vast multiverse of The King . They, as they are now, get to be together. The chance of a flower takes millions of years of chances and unlikely events, much less than the likelihood of a game of cards with a God as unstable-

Unstable? Really?

-As they have, it all seems so.. Special to him. That isn't the right word, of course, but it's a feeling that rests in his heart, that blooms and swells in these moments that he gets to just be there. Whether it's when they're in a village and Avery’s burning pancakes, or when he’s watching him in a Skywars match and seeing the look of victory on his face when he finally wins. Domesticity, kind of. Mixed with the all-knowing vastness that is being.

He feels a hand on his face. Tentacled. Sharp. Calm. Angry.

It whispers. Something he can't hear and something he's heard a million times.

A burst of yellow cloud brushes his face.

Good night, little Knight. Rest up, you’re going to need it for tomorrow.

And like that, he's out. Fallen back onto the cushion, and divine hands slide him closer to Avery, and blow out the torch before retreating.

He’s got this. They’ve got this.

No matter what, they can do this. Because they have each other, no matter what this is, they can do it.