Me: oh god I have so much to do oh god I won't be able to post much this month
Also me, rawdogging this in 2 hours: hey guys
Finally the continuation from this post over here. Writer block kicked my ass for some time with it, but it's finally done! And once again, I thank my amazing friend @mirrorworldangel for not only serving as an inspiration, but also for the amazing drawing they made for this piece, which can be found here. I truly can’t thank you enough my friend :) I hope you like this, take care!
Some tags: twisted fluff (I mean get freaky dude but one of them is an eldritch horror and the other is 12 so yeah), implied death of children
It was still hard for Stan to believe that this was his life now, sometimes. Who would’ve guessed that him breaking into a temple would’ve gotten him a giant bishop with other-world powers as a friend?? His ma’, probably. She was always going on about her “visions” and how he was special. She’ll be so proud once she sees how cool he is! (He missed her, he wondered if his friend would let him visit her).
Stanford seemed fond of treating him like something made of porcelain. He stopped counting how many times the man visited his Manor, sending his Inquisitor (whose name he learned was Fiddleford. It took too much willpower for him not to make a joke about it) to bring him jewels and treasures from excursions, or the man himself came to visit him from the shadows - taking the fanciest clothes he’d only dreamed of wearing from beneath his robes.
Not only that, Ford refused to leave until he saw Stan wearing the clothes he’d been gifted. He had to wrestle the enormous limb once, face red as he yelled “I can undress myself!” The guy was way too impatient for someone who could go hours and hours preaching. He heard the clinking of nails repeatedly hitting the wooden floor of his room, waiting for him to step out from the folding screen. Crooning and whispering in a language he didn’t understand when he made exaggerated poses or spinned.
Ford, who almost seemed to forget his existence at the beginning of their union, was now mostly seen carrying Stan around - the boy tightly holding his digits and yelling threats if he dropped him. That only amused his Lord, increasing the height of his hold until he was seated comfortably in his shoulder. Hell, once they had a banquet and the god had their followers walk thousands and thousands of miles just to get him his favourite candy!
However, Stan knew he had to step up his game when Stanford went missing for some days. The people didn’t know where he went, not even Fiddleford was warned about his Lord's sudden mission. So, Stanley was forced to do his daily tasks and run some sermons in the place of the god (and no, he wasn’t worried. At all). So when the man finally returned, no one really cared that he abandoned his Manor and went to greet him in the temple (he walked. He didn’t run, he walked).
But the man didn’t return alone; chirping in delight once he caught sight of the boy, bringing him closer with one of his hands. Ford watched his Lady’s reaction, completely focused on the change of emotions. Annoyance, curiosity and finally… a radiant smile splitting his face, eyes crinkling from how wide it was and pronouncing the freckles in his cheeks.
“Shanklin!” His Lady exclaimed. The furry critter - finally free from the confines of his palms - practically threw himself at the tween, switching from nuzzling and licking his face. Even while covered in saliva and grey coat, he looked just as beautiful on their Union Day.
The God (God. Not man. God) purred with satisfaction, hands going to cradle his beloved’s form. Stanley turned to him, still hugging his frothing little friend, and smiled at him. Giggling and jumping on his heels, his friend - Shanklin, from what he heard in one of their conversations - merely stared at him, fur bristled at the bestial figure. He knew getting the animal was a good idea (especially when, in the safety of their shared room, Stanley lifted his veil and shyly pressed a kiss on his still intact cheek).
---------------------
Some weeks after their emotional reunion, Stanley decided to own up to Sixer’s level (a nickname he gave to the man). He and Shanklin were going on an adventure! All by themselves! He knew decorating when Fiddleford made his runs and when the cult went to sleep was a good idea. Not even Sixer knew where he was, it was going to be the most amazing surprise!
He heard from some travelers that, in the far villages, a type of candy was created. Made of fruits, starch and sugar; giving it a stretchy, bean shape that would harden with the sugar coating its soft interior. No one had taken it to Ford, so he’ll make sure to be the first to give it to him!
He… didn’t really think that through. If it wasn’t for Shanklin, he would’ve definitely been lost (he made a mental note to sneak some berries in his small friend’s food when they return to the temple). They left before dawn, and arrived at the nearest village (which he’s pretty sure is thousands of miles away from the cult) in the afternoon. Pulling his cloak closer - and hiding his friend under it - he set to his objective!
People really don’t care about you as long as you act like you belong there, no one even batted an eye at him! It didn’t even take long for them to find a stand selling the candy. They were called “jellybeans” from what the seller told him. Pretty cool, but he still prefers his sugary peanuts. He did every trick in the book: batting his eyes, the sad puppy look, the nervous stammering, asking if he could make an exception for “a poor, peasant child”. Nothing worked, so they had to resort to the hard way…
The hard way was throwing Shanklin straight in the guy’s face, the tiny critter scratching and yowling as the man screamed and tried to rip him off his face. He took the opportunity to take the box - filled with jellybeans - as a crowd formed around the stand, and booked it. Swerving from some vendors that tried to grab him and making detours, stopping in an alley and waiting for Shanklin to join him. Once his possum friend made himself comfortable on his shoulder, he followed the way back home.
Stanley was giddy. He couldn’t wait to show Stanford what he got! Knowing him, he probably already knew of the existence of the candy. But he doesn’t know the taste of it. Plus, it’s coming from him! The High Consort! He’ll definitely feel honored and give him some cool powers for it-
The back of his gown was yanked back, a choked cry coming from him as he almost lost his grip on the box. Shanklin scrambled to hold his shoulder. Both were met with an iron mask staring back at them, he didn’t even need to see his face to know that Fiddleford was furious with his little adventure. Well- yeah! He lost track of time! It was midnight already, but he had something important to do!
Stanford really didn’t think so, if the growling echoing around their room was anything to go by. Stan huffed, pointedly looking away from him. He just wanted to do a surprise! It wasn’t that big of a deal!
He pushed the box towards the man, crossing his arms and looking at the wall - Shanklin made himself comfortable in his curly hair, in the meantime. He only glared back once he heard the sound of wood scraping, a claw holding a single jellybean, carefully put in his mouth, hidden behind the veil.
It was silent for a moment, until Stanford lunged at the box, shoving all the candy inside of it down his throat. It was so sudden that Stan actually jumped back, Shanklin skittering around the room until he settled in his lap. He’s pretty sure Stanford licked the thing clean even.
“Well… his idea worked!” he thought as Stanford nuzzled both of their faces together.
---------------------
Ascot and Dickie could barely believe the situation they were in.
It wasn’t unnoticed the sudden riches and luxury that suddenly seemed to sprout in the Pines’s Household, some rumoring that the man either won the lottery with a noble figure, or that he made a deal with malevolent forces - some even daring to say the name of the Old Ones. However, as much as many were jealous they weren’t the main figures of the village any more - including them -, they were more curious about the disappearance of their younger son.
Stanley was like a hurricane, unwanted and bringing chaos anywhere he went. However, it didn’t go unnoticed to them that, on the day Mr. Filbrick and Ms. Caryn ascended in the social hierarchy, it was the same day Stan stopped appearing around the town. It felt… peaceful, so quiet it was unnerving. No one really batted an eye to Ms. Caryn, but no one could deny how tired the woman looked the few she left her house.
So, they decided to get to the bottom of this mystery! They could already picture it, the Sibling Brothers discovered the frauds the Pines were! Maybe they would even get some kind of reward for it.
It wasn’t that hard to break into their house, with how much the couple started going out. Stan’s room was covered in dust, toys and clothes hanging like a grim reminder that he was gone. Both boys searched the room like hound dogs, taking anything that looked like a clue and writing down places where he could’ve gone - and maybe stealing some of his things they thought were cool.
It wasn’t until his brother, Dickie, who decided to explore the rest of the house, yelled for him in the cottage’s main room. There, hidden behind the books in the shelf, Dickie showed an engraved drawing of a six fingered hand, something written in an unknown language under it.
They drew it on a piece of paper (for some reason, Ascot felt… disturbed while doing it, as if something was watching him). They tried searching in the books of the house and the library, moving to people once they found nothing. The villagers were also useless, not knowing what it meant, never seeing the symbol, or completely disregarding them. Aside from Mrs. Ramirez, the woman merely stared at the drawing before chuckling, walking away as she muttered something that sounded like "I'm not surprised”.
It wasn’t until they visited Emmaline Butternubbins that they got an answer, they barely showed the full drawing before the woman was screeching like a banshee, flinching away from them and talking about “the hand that defiles and destroys, an abomination of nature, a puppeted corpse”, yapping about staying away from some town and its borders. That its force was growing strong, that it had stolen someone from them.
…Well, looks like Stanley wouldn’t be gone for long.
They set out on the same day, preparing a small bag filled with food, papers, a knife and a stolen map, the thought of being the ones to discover this so-called “beast of abomination” filled them with excitement. Not only would they get their popularity back, they would also be the first one to make this discovery! They would go down in history!
…Which took days to arrive, an entire week with their stops at questionable villages and trying to gather more clues to how they could reach this "distorted monstrosity”. Some seemed enthralled at talking about their… Lord? Talking about his miracles and knowledge and of how he caught himself a “Lady”. Others seemed… hesitant even, almost scared at the fact that they knew of… its existence.
Ascot scoffed, it probably wasn’t even all that. He and his brother giggled at the thought that Stanley of all people was its Lady. It probably wanted him just to feel better at its intelligence, given how stupid the boy was. Someone talked a little too much and told them how their “beloved Lady” liked to bathe in a nearby lake, both looked at each other, sharing victorious grins.
They decided to split directions, that way, they could either corner the creature or Stanley if they decided to run away. Ascot almost gave up with how many branches had slammed in his face, until he heard a certain high-pitched and annoying giggle, a familiar voice talking about adventures and treasures, not sounding so far away from him.
Bingo.
Ascot barely held himself from running, following Stan’s voice through the forest (not even noticing the eyes slashed in the birch trees following him). And there, glowing like a treasure in the middle of the river, was Stanley. Completely undressed, digging through the water and occasionally submerging. He could make the figure of that damn rat he called a friend floating on the water.
Oh, this was incredible. Just what he needed. All he needs to do is gather Dickie, go back to their village, and threaten the Pines with their proof-
He was brought out of his gratification stupor by a loud “Aha!” Stan held a colorful rock in his hands, glistening from the soft and warm glow from the afternoon. A wide smile in his face, flushed cheeks and freckles more prominent on the rest of his body. He watched as Stan ran to the corner of the lake, proudly showing off the rock.
“Told you there were treasures around here, Sixer!” Stan exclaimed, raising the rock over his head. Ascot watched as something rustled, movement coming from where Stan was looking-
A… hand came from amidst the trees. He couldn't believe it, rubbing his eyes to see if he was seeing correctly. The hand was still there. That was a hand. The hand of something, something way too big, bigger than Stanley – now that he stopped to think about it, those… claws could just pick him up if they wanted. Scratch that, those things could smash him until he was nothing but a red smear on the ground. He watched with wide eyes Shanklin lazily climbed the thing, gripping the fabric of the robe tightly so as not to fall.
It took the rock, gently – so carefully it left him speechless. It came closer to Stan, revealing more of its… body. By the gods, the more he looked at that thing, he wasn't even sure if that was its body, the amount of robes cluttered on its form confused him. But he's pretty sure it wasn't normal for an arm to sprout from a torso, much less the glimpse of a crooked wing fluttering on the ground for a moment.
A veil covered face lowered to Stan's level – he grimaced at the sound of bones cracking and twisting at the action, as if its own body was unaware of how its anatomy should work. The creature chirped. Crooning and rubbing Stan's cheek with its – toosharptoobigtoodangerous – claws. Stan laughed at the faint sensation. How the hell could he be so calm in the presence of that- that- beast?!
He watched, practically enthralled at the whole thing, simultaneously wanting to leave but wanting to see what else would happen. The creature took its appendage holding the gift back inside its robes, coming back bloodied after some minutes, a pleased rumble coming from its throat. Stanley was still looking at it, arms spread wide as he talked about more adventures, how they should celebrate the new ritual that evening and a visit to some temple.
Ascot was curious when Stan suddenly stopped talking, laughing at whatever the creature growled at him. He felt confused when Stan lifted the creature’s veil, then horrified as he watched the boy press a kiss to- whatever the hell he was kissing. It looked like a void, filled with teeth and eyes.
That’s it. He's seen enough. No wonder his parents got rid of him, he was a freak just like that thing. Besides, he has enough to prove that Stan wasn’t missing that much. Maybe he and Dickie could hold that over Filbrick, have the man lend them some of his riches and money.
He froze at the sound of a twig snapping, leaves rustling at the sudden and strong wind. He could only faintly hear the sounds coming from the lake and of his own breath - suddenly erratic, body ready to run if anything happened, for some reason. A soft thud came in front of him, Ascot quickly turned around, heart hammering in his chest at the possibility that that thing-
He was met by the familiar figure of his brother. Blonde hair disheveled and a soft smile in his face, looking just like he did hours before.
“Dickie!” Ascot exclaimed. “Oh, Dickie, you won’t even believe what I found! We’re set for life once we return to the village!”
He expected his brother to share his excitement, to have the same smile as him, for them to be discussing plans on how they could take advantage of this.
His brother stayed quiet, the soft smile still in his face, looking directly at him. The only sign he gave that he heard him was the floppy wave of his hand.
Ascot found that strange, unlikely of his brother. But that didn’t deter him, stepping closer to Dickie.
“We can tell the whole village about this place! Threaten it with Stanley and have him give us riches!” Ascot said, pulling out their map and pointing at their current location. “They’ll see us as heroes, Dickie!”
Dickie remained silent, eyes looking strangely empty the more he stared at them.
“...Dickie?”
Ascot watched his brother finally move. However, he wasn’t really… walking. More like dragging his feet across the grass, body straight as a road, not even bouncing from his steps. Then he started… floating. Getting higher and higher as the seconds passed, slowly disappearing in the vast darkness from the trees. Suddenly, he fell - hard - on the floor, the sound of his neck snapping echoing through the forest.
Ascot froze, watching the red liquid slowly drip out from his brother’s body, staining the green underneath him, seeping into his shoes. His body trembled, legs stuck to the ground, unconsciously crumpling the map in his hands.
Ascot could barely breathe when he saw something moving in the shadows, coming closer to him. He could make out the form of something, glowing yellow eyes surrounding him, crinkling in malicious amusement or annoyance, fluttering of feathers and bones cracking and snapping hammering into his head.
A six fingered hand laid on the ground, right in front of him.
---------------------
Stan was surprised when Stanford told him to go ahead without him, saying that he had something to take care of. It wasn’t unusual that sometimes, they needed to attend their duties out of time - Stanford certainly made his displeasure known when that happened, especially when they were spending time together.
Fiddleford went to see him after he dressed himself and dried Shanklin, telling them to postpone the ritual and only do a basic preaching to strengthen their faith at the town’s chapel instead of the Temple.
“Our Lord has prepared a surprise for you. He wishes to have your presence in the Temple after the praying hours.” Ok, definitely not creepy at all, Fiddlesticks. But the prospect of a gift left him eager.
So, he performed as he normally did. Talking about visions of greatness and that their wishes would soon be fulfilled, answering questions and giving some bullshit answer that would leave them satisfied for some time. After he was done, Shanklin came out from under the altar’s stand, wrapping himself around his neck. Fiddleford took over the task to make sure the people went to their homes, so Stan could go to the Temple earlier.
Stan lightly petted his furry friend’s neck as he walked through the hallways, feeling dumb as he remembered the first time he entered the building. Although, he couldn’t help but laugh at how he actually got his friend to get closer to him. It was hard to believe that the man, tall enough for his head to scrape at the Temple’s roof and send fear to the hearts of outsiders, was also the same one that almost broke the doors of his manor and hastily plucked him from his chair, carefully cradling him as he showed his latest discovery.
Once he stopped right in front of their shared bedroom’s door, he jumped in surprise as the door was suddenly yanked back - right when he was about to knock on it. Sixer made a hooting sound, carefully scooping him in his hands and bringing him closer to his face.
“Hey, big guy!” Stan called out, Shanklin hissing at the sudden act. Ford gently ran a claw over the possum’s fur, turning his attention once again to him. “Fidds said you had a surprise for me.”
Ford made a delighted croon at that, rubbing his body against his cheek - Stan laughed at the tickling sensation, Shanklin screeched at the sudden squish. Then, he carried him over to their bed. The boy gasped at what he saw. A winter cloak! White, thick fur sewed on the neckband; made of one of the softest fabrics he’s ever felt - it felt like touching a sheep’s fur - and it was his favourite color too! A deep, dark red, with a golden damask pattern on the edge of the sleeves.
Stan squealed, practically jumping out of Ford’s hands the moment they got near the bed. He hugged the clothes tightly to his chest, jumping at the heels of his feet - Shanklin bouncing on the bed as he followed after him.
“I love it, I love it, I love it!” Stan yelled, immediately wrapping it around his shoulders. “I look so cool, it’s just like Ma’s coats!”
Ford purred at his reaction, watching his Lady’s bright eyes and wide smile, giggling as he spinned and showed off his gift. Once his Lady tired himself, once again, he took him in his hands - waiting for Shanklin to climb and make himself comfortable -, opening the doors of their room and walking to another set of halls, these ones leading to the Temple’s Altar.
“Wha’? You got more surprises under those sleeves?” Stan joked, Sixer chortled - even waving his many hands, making his Lady laugh.
Once they reached the Altar, Stan waited for the man to show him what he planned. He couldn’t see anything behind the veil, but he’s certain the man had an expectant expression, dramatically opening the doors, waiting for his reaction.
If Stan was surprised by his cloak, then what he saw certainly took the cake. Stanford usually made him stand next to his chair at the beginning of their Union, it was only after that he had him sit on the armrest or in his lap. Next to his chair was another one. Made with dark wood and golden seashells and fish details, a plush reddish yellow seat cushion sewed on it. What had him impressed was the figure of two, small wooden figures, being the main support of the armrests and foot - giving it an illusion that they were the ones holding it.
“Is it… for me?” Stan quietly asked, looking at the man to be sure. Ford looked pleased with himself, lightly pushing him towards the chair. A chair, in the Altar of the Temple, made specifically and only for him. He couldn’t even believe it, fingers lightly grazing the wood, as if scared he would destroy it with a single touch.
“Stanford knew from his Lady that those boys who had invaded his forest were nothing but trouble. However, he didn’t expect it to be this easy to fool them. He barely had to lift a finger to break their minds or send his followers after them. They came after him, all on their own want. It was merely expected their doomfall would constitute that. And it was only because of a drawing, one not that very well hidden, by the way.
He made sure they didn’t have a single scratch on them while on their journey, his Lady deserved the best and only that. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss them, he could ask Mrs. Ramirez or Fiddleford to make the village forget of their existence, it wasn’t that hard. And he needs to give blessings to them, alongside Dan and his family - the man was the one to give him the idea to reuse that idiotic brat clothes for his Lady.
The suggestion at first made him enraged. His Lady? Wearing someone else’s clothes? Especially the one who invaded his most private hour (even though it beneficial for him) and had seen him in his most vulnerable state? The mere thought made him want to destroy the boy completely. Thankfully, the red-haired wasn’t that affected by his growling, saying how much their Lady would love the fabric, being one of the most expensive and softest of the lands. Jimmy Snakes, a follower who recently joined their herd after being aided by his Lady, added of how they could make a permanent example of them, like “making a house from your enemies skulls”.
And colour him surprised, they were right. He needs to make a list of how many people he should bless this week. He watched as his Lady gently touched his chair, admiring every piece of it. His Lady should have stood by him since the first day. Oh, how foolish he had been. But that is the past, his Lady will be spoiled and pampered for all eternity, all while next to him.
Making sure his Lady was distracted, he pulled out the map that pillock brought with him. He read through their diaries and Fiddleford reported what the nearby village people said, they wanted to use his Lady as leverage for their plans. He sincerely couldn’t care less about that man, however, his Lady seemed to have a spot for them, and he would be destroyed if any harm came to their way, so he tucked his feelings to the side. A deal is a deal, anyways.
They commented something about bringing the entire village to his town, using him as a source of neverending riches. And they weren’t the only ones his Lady complained about. Teachers that called him stupid, some bowl haired kid that used to pick fights with him, a kid with a scar on his cheek that would chase him through town, and many more.
Stanford stared at the map, following the line that marked the places they visited on their journey, a single claw stopping directly at the place they came from. He wasn’t unknown to his Lady’s origins, even sending some of his followers to make sure they kept an eye over the town.
His Lady deserved a bigger throne.