Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The soft clicking of the keyboard could be heard all across the Time Room, the rustling of papers and pen sliding across paper, followed by a series of mandible clicks and a low hum of an ancient song that could only be known by a species long dead, resonated within the blue walls like an odd symphony. Long golden claws working swiftly and quickly, with the efficiency and precision of someone who knew exactly how to do it from years of experience, however, “years” falls short compared to the millennia that has actually passed for the insectoid turned Wishmaster.

A knock broke the peaceful atmosphere, the intruding sound coming from outside the walls of the Time Room. Scarab abruptly halted his work, the sound of the keys stopping momentarily to look up at the closed triangular entrance. He waited a few moments, only to hear that same knocking again, and the all-too familiar style of rhythmic knocking associated with a certain God Auditor.

He knew that knocking too well.

With a sigh and a wave of his hand, the laptop and papers dissipated in a rush of blue and purple colors, fixing up his mask against his uncovered face, mandibles fixing against the sides of his mouth, the low song that once was playing dissipating like a distant memory.

The doors opened under his command, the heavy structure sliding up as if it were simple curtain blinds. The clinking of heavy golden jewelry and the consistent tap of a cane walked through the entrance, a flashy figure dressed in pinks and golds, that same shade of pink adorning his hair and making his rich dark skin stand out even more within the blue colored walls.

“Heeeey Scrabby,” The rough voice of Prismo sounded far too loud in the previously quiet room, making Scarab’s antenna’s twitch in frustration at the unrequited noise, yet a part of him was glad for the company. “You wouldn’t believe the day I had today…”
The comment picked his attention, looking more closely at the gold covered wizard, he could see small tears all across his clothes. Some dark parts on his clothes were covered in dulled red, yet some other marks had a more green-ish color, it seemed not only the wizard’s blood had been shed. Yet the God Auditor didn’t wear any type of scar or open wound on his skin under the ripped parts of his clothing.

“I assume another successful hunt?” Scarab’s deep voice answered, his volume much lower, having been accustomed to only talk when needed to Wishmakers, Prismo and himself on occasions. He watched as the wizard went down the makeshift stairs that Scarab summoned for him, the question left unanswered and instead met with a frown at the word “hunt”. Prismo carefully stepped on each platform as if in any moment he were to fall down, his form sluggish and uncharacteristically slow.

Scarab took note of it, and once the man was down from the last step, a small yet elegant table awaited for him with refreshments, such as a special exotic tea Scarab recently received from a Wishmaker, and small triangular sandwiches, cut with a precision even the best swordsman could ever think of, sat on top on a plate, its edges decorated with small golden scarabs and finely painted leaves.

“Fancy as ever, aren’t ya?” The wizard said with amusement, looking up at the towering bug with a tired smile, yet he still took the cup carefully into his hands and took a sip, his eyes opening up with surprise at the taste and smell of it, quickly taking another, longer sip that almost left the cup empty, letting out a dramatic long sigh once he put the cup down. All the stress he had been hanging on to, seemingly releasing all at once.

A set of cold colored light fragments and its unique sound could be heard at his backside, before dissipating away, leaving behind a chair, equally elegant to the table in front of him. The taller bug spoke up, his tone annoyed, yet caring in a way only the other God could pick up, “If even half of that blood is yours, you should sit down right now”.

“Eh, half mine, half the other guy, you know the gist,” Prismo spoke with a nonchalant tone while plopping down the newly formed chair, the tea having taken care of one need among the long list of needs his body demanded, the second one being met with a bite to one of the sandwiches. A small sound escaping his lips as he relished on the taste of it, Scarab saw as the god auditor closed his eyes, a tear seemingly threatening to fall off the other God’s eye, yet he looked away once Prismo’s eyes opened and settled on him, the piercing blue almost too much to look at sometimes.

Prismo noticed this, but decided to not comment on it, instead taking another bite of his meal and trying to make conversation “You know, you shouldn’t spoil me like this, or else I’ll get greedy and let myself be roughened up a bit if it means I get to be be pampered by you” A cheeky grin appearing on his face.

While Scarab didn’t let anything show through his mask, the twitch of his antennas and fluttering of wings didn’t go unnoticed by the mortal.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t visit me only when your hunts leave you unwell” He said softly, a hint of concern seeping through his voice, yet his tone returned to his usual formal speech. “You’re the only cosmic entity that visits me this often, it’d be a shame to not share this tea the mortals keep bringing me each time” He makes his point by taking his own cup and slipping his mask open just enough for his probiosis to come out and take a few sips of tea.

“Aww and here I thought you’d finally admit you love it when I come by” The wizard added with an amused tone, the tiredness in his voice still present yet his demeanor changed to the more playful one Scarab has grown used to. Prismo went ahead and talked about the task he’d been assigned a few weeks ago, recounting how much trouble it had been to track and hunt down.

While Scarab didn’t like the noise mortals came with, the mess they created and the time they took from him and his work, he could make a little space for the visits that this loud, messy and time wasting mortal wizard that never seemed to stop speaking, made him every few weeks.

Chapter Text

“Scarab, do you have any idea of what you’ve done???” The God Auditor paced around the room, his barely covered feet making small sounds against the otherwise quiet room, the floor seemed to spin beneath him as he thought about the implications of what he just found out. His mind raced, he didn’t know what to do, he just stared at anything he could except the other God in the room.

“When- No, why did you even create them in the first place?” His voice nearly cracked, the mere thought of the consequences of creating an unauthorized universe made his frown even deeper, his grip on his cane tightening with worry and, was that anger? No, it was something else he couldn’t quite explain; it was a weird mix of disbelief, dread, worry for the person standing in the same room as he was.

Scarab didn’t answer, making Prismo even more conflicted about what he was meant to do. The rules were simple for a Wishmaster, he knew that since the day he applied for the job and he still knew them even after getting rejected and instead placed as a God Auditor.

-Grant ONE wish to any entity that may come into the Time Room-

-Don’t grant wishes that endanger entities of higher rank than you-

-Don’t grant wishes for yourself-

It was so, so simple, and yet Scarab, the most organized, the most careful with his work, the person that desired this job more than anyone else, suddenly decided that it was ok to break the rules. Prismo finally turned his eyes to him, the taller God still wore his mask, making it near impossible to know what he was thinking, yet the nervous hold at his own hands, the constant movement of claws rubbing together was more than enough to show Prismo that Scarab might be as worried as he was, if not more.

He opened his mouth to continue talking, yet the red beetle didn’t let the wizard continue with his berating, instead deciding to speak up for the first time since all of this began,“You left for so long, I should be the one who is angry at you for everything you’ve done!” His voice rising for the first time in millenia, the wizard taken aback by this brazen show of emotions that he hadn’t seen Scarab show since before his promotion as a Wishmaster.

“What I did?? But I haven’t done anything!” Lifting his arms in frustration, his own tone rising even more, whatever emotion he was feeling before getting quickly replaced by anger at the audacity of the bug to blame this whole thing on him.

“ EXACTLY. You haven’t done anything since that stupid mortal dog died!” Scarab’s carapace lost its elegant form, golden and red spikes growing across it, his usual trimmed and well kept claws extending and sharpening. His tone reverberated across the interdimensional space.

Prismo felt something snap, dark forms engulfing his face completely, letting the blue in his eyes get swallowed up by pink and his colors get replaced by ink black, any sign of his human skin being covered up by shadows that moved around themselves like a brewing storm.
His voice now a mix of his human voice, guttural growls and another voice that wasn’t quite his own, but the one of another being, far less human that anything else Scarab has ever heard.

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT HIM, YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”

Shadows lifted Prismo’s body to get to the same eye level as Scarab, the beetle never stepping back even at the drop of pure magic seeping through his senses. The God Auditor could barely look behind the mask the other wore, and that infuriated him even further, he needed to see the other’s face, to spit every insult possible at the other God.

Yet the moment his body acted quicker than his mind, reaching out for the red covered face, a hand stopped his own, a grip that would break anyone else’s wrist held him, halting any idea that he might’ve had about removing the offending object from the other’s face.

“Prismo”

The voice that came out behind that mask was calm, yet there was a warning behind it, one that wouldn’t hesitate to actually go through with the unspoken threat. Yet, before Prismo could take his hand back, the momentarily shock fading away, the plates of the mask in front of him opened.

He was exactly as he remembered, yet the alien face in front of him wore new golden marks that adorned his face like a delicate vase, painstakingly painted with such care that it would be a tragedy to ruin it by making a single scratch to it. However, what took Prismo off guard, was the expression that face showed him, there was so much anger, sadness and a profound loneliness that he knew was all caused by his inaction.

The wizard couldn’t even process when the tears started falling from his eyes, a constant stream that flowed with such vigor he couldn’t stop it, the claws that held his now limp arm, slowly let their grip loosen, yet Prismo didn’t have the strength to take it back. The shadows holding him dissipating under him, letting his feet touch the ground once more, the pinks showing themselves again. His body was slightly shaking, yet the light squeeze he felt in his arm, golden talons now holding him softly, grounded him in a way.

Taking a long but shaky breath, he wiped the tears from his eyes with his free arm. He was embarrassed by the show of raw emotions, however when Scarab spoke again, he was surprised by the words that came out from the bug, “I’m sorry, I know that you cared deeply about that mortal, I shouldn’t have spoken about him that way” He tried to look up at the taller God’s face, however he had already covered it again with that emotionless mask.

The God Auditor chuckled, yet he still didn’t feel happy at all, if anything, all the rage melted into sadness and worry once again. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have, yet you did…” He knew his voice was cracking, but he knew he also had an apology to make, one that was a few years too late. “And yet, I also did something I shouldn’t have, I left you here alone for years, but what else could I do? Let you see me in that pitiful state? Let you see me crumble for a simple mortal even though I knew exactly that he was gonna die someday?”

“That would’ve been preferable than what you did” Scarab spoke as he let go the arm of the human. The tension was still there, but it wasn’t a violent one now. The silence felt deafening in the large room as they both tried to find the right words to express all that they were feeling at that moment. Scarab’s gaze never left him, the hand that held his arm before, lifted to cradle his face, soft talons rubbing at the stubble he grew, then at the deep bags under his eyes.

Feeling a little exposed he tried to look away again, yet a firm hand held his head in place, a masked face coming too close to his, he could feel those golden eyes piercing through him even behind the mask, however the words that were spoken were so gentle and filled with concern, that he couldn’t help but want to tear up again “You look tired”.

“That’s what happens when you don’t take care of me” Prismo couldn’t help but say that as he leaned into the hand that held him.

A soft silence filled the room once again, both of them basking in the company of each other once again, years had passed since they were together and while this reunion happened for the wrong reasons, it still felt good to have it.

A quick “Ahem” snapped both Gods out of their minds, both of them turning their heads at the source of the sound. Prismo laughed, this time more lighthearted, a tension built from years melting away in an instant. As always, he decided to speak first “I assume you’re not gonna tell me why you made my stories into an actual universe, so at least answer this, do you have any plans for them?”

Scarab pondered for a moment, gripping the chin of his mask and closing his eyes. Prismo kept looking at the human girl, her cat and an old wizard turned human that sat in the same room as them since the beginning, for a moment he forgot that they were even there, even if this whole argument started because of them. Fionna and Cake stared at both Gods with a mix of amusement and fear at their previous fight, Simon kept his guard up, fearing what could happen to them if the fight had broken out for real.

Scarab’s eyes snapped open behind his mask, the sudden and unnatural snap of his neck towards the mortals made them jump where they sat, even Prismo got surprised at the quick movement, however it was soon replaced with fondness, remembering just how much he liked those insectoid features of his. Very faint clicking could be heard behind the taller God’s mask, and he couldn't help but cherish those little sounds, never quite realizing how much he missed them.

“I have an idea”

That’s all the bug said, and that was all that Prismo needed to hear.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you’re actually comfortable in that form…” Prismo laid his eye on the red mask looking at him from below, the low voice of his new Boss making him hum in contentment at his new situation.

It’s been a few days since the Fionna and Cake incident, somehow everything that they planned simply came to be, every detail fitting perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle.
It almost felt too good to be true, yet neither of them complained at the turn of events that now lead them to this new living arrangement.

Prismo moved his new two-dimensional form across the room, flowing around as if he was always meant to be there, a dream holding itself together by the very fine threads of reality and magic, his own corporeal form lying asleep in one of the many rooms that the Time Room held, right next to Scarab’s own resting body.

“I dunno, somehow it feels right '' Stopping his movement around for a moment just to look at his own hands, marveling at how odd yet familiar the weightlessness and lack of mass felt to him. “I guess having a body made of meat and bones s’kinda overrated, plus, my knee isn’t killing me 24/7 anymore, so that’s another thing I’m not gonna miss” He finished his thought with a shrug, going back to tinkering around with various objects that he’d been summoning since his arrival.

“You really got the hang of summoning things rather quickly, haven’t you?” The insectoid God looked with annoyance at the overall mess he’d been trying to keep at bay yet somehow kept growing each day Prismo had been assigned as his assistant. “Was the hot tub in the middle of the room really necessary? I- You know what, no, it isn’t, I’m getting rid of it-”

‘-noooOOOOOOOOO” Prismo dramatically draped himself over and in the hot tub, making his best attempt at puppy eyes, yet his face kept getting slightly distorted by the constant flow of bubbles running through the water. Scarab looked dumbfounded at Prismo’s face for a few seconds, just to then groan in surrender, turning around to avoid looking at the poor attempt of convincing him to keep that extremely unnecessary item that brought nothing but discordance over his usually well kept place. “Fine, you may keep that mortal machine, but you have to get rid of all this other junk you’ve been throwing around carelessly”

“Roger that!” With a simple snap of his fingers, all the mortal trinkets he’d been collecting disappeared in a myriad of colors, leaving the room spotless, even that odd spider web that the Gods may-know-how it ever got in there in the first place. While Scarab may think of his new “roommate” (as Prismo likes to put their situation), as unkempt, quite lazy with his chores, and an overall annoyance, he must admit that he can be quite efficient when cleaning if he puts his mind to it.

With a heavy sigh he glanced around at the now (almost) empty room, the pink shadow still laying around in the bathtub. Scarab turned to look at him for a long second, watching how even with the lack of a proper 3D face, the silhouette could still make such a content and satisfied expression, the eyebags under his eyes being a strong contrast to that calm. He knew those were something he might never be able to get rid of after centuries of hard work, tracking down infractors and having to deal with the constant threat of harm due to the nature of his job as God Auditor.

The insectoid God wondered just how many times had Prismo been hurt, just how much of his human blood had been shed and how much energy it must’ve cost him to heal himself every time. Scarab was once a God Auditor too, before getting his promotion, and he knew how rough the job can get when difficult tasks get assigned.

However, he too knew Prismo was a powerful being, a human wizard that attained enough power to be received among Gods, his magical abilities had been praised upon and his social skills made him climb up the ranks quickly and also kept him out of trouble, it even made his job easier on occasions. Scarab must admit he was often jealous of such things, yet those thoughts were kept deep inside his personal mind vault, never to be seen by anyone but himself.

Yet, how come that even that much power was rendered useless by the death of a single mortal being? He could never understand that, but with Prismo, he realized he didn’t have to, he just had to accept it. His companion was simply like that, sentimental, easily overwhelmed, he had an answer to everything and a comment about nothing. That's just him.

“You’re staring.” Prismo’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, realizing that he had, in fact, been staring quite intensely. With a clear of his throat and a blush that he could only tell he had under his mask, Scarab turned to open up one of the many doors that lead further into the Time Room.

“I’ll be down in my office, if you need something or if a Wishmaker comes by, do your job as an assistant and let me know immediately” He snapped his head towards the pink dream, narrowing his eyes and letting its golden glow shine through them. “Understood?”

“Y-yea- I mean, yes, uh, sir? Heh, ‘sir’, as if I haven’t known you for milenia, but yes, sure, I’ll keep an eye out” While Scarab might’ve felt satisfaction that his threat did make an effect on Prismo, it was short lived by the constant droning of words that came right after it, the goofy smile that the pink shadow presented made his intimidation tactics useless.

With an exhausted sigh, he continued his way down, further into the Time Room and its labyrinth of halls and spaces, the doors closing behind him and leaving him alone with himself and the storm of thoughts that were brewing in his head.