Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zachariah...a pretty normal dude. He had a family, annoying siblings, lived in America (political hell) and worked at a Dutch Bros. Pretty average life, if he did say so himself. Even with the occasional odd customer, or an odd encounter in the streets, or a social fuck up at school- he was happy enough.

Today, he was working an after-school shift at his job. Serving customers, daydreaming about being at home, screwing up orders- wait. He stares at the monstrosity in his hands. What is this. Why did he put fifteen pumps of sugar in it? He glances at the receipt- okay, no, that’s what the customer ordered. Dear god. He swallows hard, finishing up the order, and hands it to the customer. “Er, here’s your ‘drink’, sir…” 

The customer happily takes the ‘drink’ (more like a heart attack waiting to happen), but that odd feeling of dissonance continues. Zachariah glances around, seeing…nothing. There’s nothing wrong. He’s working alone today, maybe that’s why? But…god, he just can’t shake that gross feeling of muted fear off. He scrambles to finish up his shift before handing the place over to the next employee coming in, almost running out. He actually forgets his bag, and has to go back with an embarrassed blush on his face.

He hops into his car, putting the bag in the passenger seat, before turning the key in the ignition. It was a pretty okay car, and he’d decorated the windows with stickers of Vox Machina characters and various video game characters. He didn’t know what kind of car it was though…he’d never been too into cars. That feeling just got worse and worse the longer he was in his car. He just had to get home though, there wasn’t any way it could go wrong.

He got to driving on the road. Everything was fine. There wasn’t a single person speeding, even. And it was Oregon, where red lights were a suggestion! He should feel fine. He should. But the longer he takes, the more anxious he gets. “Everything is going just fine, Zach. C’mon, just…get- get home…” He moves to turn the radio on for some pleasant white noise, and then everything goes wrong. 

His car is slammed into head on by someone driving too fast, and everything goes away in a flash of blinding pain. There’s a bunch of stars in the sky. But it was day, wasn’t it? He can’t think quite right. He hears the beeping of a heart monitor, sees the white of a hospital room, sees his family crying by his bedside- then nothing. Nothing but darkness and…oh, did he get into a tentacle hentai or something?

The tentacles clearly take offense to his line of thinking, many green eyes opening up all over and glaring at him. “Shut up, you moron. I’m here to shove your pathetic mortal soul somewhere else. You were painfully average, did you know?” 

He has the feeling that it doesn’t like him much.

He decides the feeling is very mutual when it pokes his cheek.

He speaks up, scowling. “Okay, whatever. I’m a trashy human, I get it. No need to be a dick. Where am I going, and can I see my family again?”

It softens a tad bit, the same tentacle that pokes his cheek ruffling his hair a little. “...ah, no. You cannot. I’m sorry, moron, but you’re going to have to go elsewhere. I’ll let you choose, even!” Zachariah melts a tad bit under the ruffling, but just scowls harder. “Great. So I’ve lost my family, friends, and all my cash? Great…” He does brighten a tad at the ‘choosing where to go’ bit. “...uh. By elsewhere, do you mean…anywhere?”

It grins- and dear god does he not like that. Why does it have so many teeth? Why are they scattered everywhere on its body? Why are some of them covered in neon green fire? Eugh… “Oh, I’d be happy to let you go anywhere! Of course, I’ll have to go with you…not in this body, of course. But all the others have just dropped their little protagonists off with no way off real immediate, immediate contact! It’s all ‘oh, perform this ritual’ or ‘text me’! That’s just not efficient! So I’ll join you in this body!” It proceeds to show off a small black cat. He stares at it. “...can I pet it.” It huffs. “No.”

Zachariah sighs, looking sadly at the small cat. “...uh. Do you know the hit Roblox game Phighting?” It stares at him. “...oh my god, another one? Yeah. Yeah, alright. I’ll put you in there.” Zachariah grins and absently moves to pet the cat, which does earn him a smack on the head. “Ow- geez, okay, okay…”

It huffs at him before opening up a little spot in the void, where he can see the Crossroads. It’s very…Crossroads-like. Man, maybe he should have paid more attention in English. Then he’d know enough words to describe it. Oh well. Too late for that now. He hones back in on what the tentacle thing is saying. “-and you’ll get an umbrella gear. It will be a bit messy, but I’m sure you can deal with it, right?” He blinked. “Oh, uhm, sure to all of that. Yep.” 

It grins at him again. “Great! Anyways, see you down there!” Zachariah stares up at it. “Wait, what?-” And he’s pushed through the portal. He yelps. “Oh, you fuck-” And he crashes into the ground a few seconds later, getting knocked out.

-One cliche time skip later…-

Zachariah wakes up to a pair of what are clearly demons gazing down at them. They squeak in surprise and scamper off, leaving Zachariah to groan in pain. He glances down at himself, gaping in shock. “Oh, what the hell is this outfit?” He stares at the very fancy red and black suit he’s been shoved into. “Urgh…at least it’s comfy.” He clambers up, legs terribly shaky. He glances up at the sky, and it’s almost nighttime. Oh, that’s bad.

He wandered for a few minutes, exploring. He finds himself next to a clothing shop, where he gazes at himself in the window. He’s got horns that kind of look like a greater kudu’s. They’re just pure black, so that’s okay. And…geez, he was white before, but this is going a tad far. He shrugs and promptly trips over a black…cat…hey… 

It stares at him. Then trots off. He just kind of sits there for a minute. It comes back with a closed up umbrella, which it tosses into his lap. Yeah. That’s definitely Mx. Tentacles. He takes the umbrella and opens it- only to be drenched in what is clearly blood. It’s coming out of the umbrella, and at least it’s running off him, but holy cow…why is he so edgy!? He’s been tossed in a black and red outfit, his horns are black, from what he can tell his eyes are the same, and his gear literally rains blood! Zachariah groans. “This is so rigged…”

He closes the umbrella and pats the cat, getting up again and trudging off. He finds a little alcove in a gross alley and slinks into it. “C’mon, you didn’t give me an apartment or anywhere to live, so we’re staying here tonight, yeah? This is your fault, so no complaining- ow.” He glares down at it. It just scratched him. What a dick. He huffs and curls up into a ball, entirely prepared to pass out in this alcove. “Put me here just as night was falling too, brat…” He squirms a little before going to sleep.

Chapter Text

Ow. Zachariah- or, er, Umbrella now, woke up to blinding light right in his face and a cat chomping down on his newly sharpened fingers. Umbrella shooed it away, wincing. Why the hell was it so bright? He’s in an alley… The cat meows and directs his attention to a flashlight…and a pile of bux. He stares. “...did you steal all that?” The cat nods. “...I’m going to get arrested."

He huffs and picks up the bux regardless, glaring at his…does it count as a pet if it can probably kill him? For ease of description, he supposes so. He tosses the flashlight in his alcove before glaring at the cat. “Don’t do that again, mini thief.” He pats the cat and scoops the bux up into his pocket, wincing at how it nearly overflows. “This is too much, y’know.” 

He drags himself out of the alcove, finding himself on the street. There’s more people than usual, but none are looking at him as he sticks out too much. A couple glances for the mildly dirty suit, but that’s fine. Expected, actually. He slinks right on over to what looks like a Goodwill store. There’s not too many people there, thank the gods. He glances over to his cat. “...should I be thinking of thanking just you, or are there more?” The cat ignores him and instead struts inside like it owns the place, the accursed rat.

Umbrella trots in, rubbing his arms and slouching like it’ll make him less noticeable. It does not, considering he’s very much dressed in a way that makes him stand out. He immediately goes for the hoodies and sweatpants, though admittedly does kind of want to stick to the red and black theming…so he grabs a bunch of red and black striped hoodies. He cringes in disgust when he has to get some…more private articles of clothing, from knockoff Goodwill of all places, and tries to get the least gross looking ones. A lot of the clothing is actually a little bloodstained, so that’s not great.

He eventually finds his cat perched on top of the chair section, scratching anybody trying to shop for said chairs in said…rather small chair section, actually. Maybe people don’t donate as many large items here. Maybe all the big items don’t last long enough to get donated. He grabs the cat, glaring down at it. “Stop running off. I can’t come grab you every damn time while I’m trying to get…various necessities that you did not provide.” He smacks it on the head before putting it down beside him. Umbrella hisses at it. “Stay beside me, you little rat.” 

After that, he goes back to browsing, sighing in relief when the price only ends up being about a hundred bux. He forks over the cash before walking out with all his stuff in a bag. Umbrella looks down at the cat. “...thanks, I guess. Please don’t steal any more. I’d rather not go to juvie.” The cat looks back up at him, meows…smugly, somehow, and then runs off. Again. Gods above…he’s not gonna bother going after it, whatever.

Umbrella makes his way to a shadier part of Crossroads, managing to squirrel his way into a sad looking building. He hisses at the rats inside, watching gleefully as they scatter. He’s not quite so gleeful about the whole rats being there thing, but watching them scatter is more fun than it has any right to be. He sweeps some dust away before tossing his stuff down. He has…let’s see…no mattress, no blankets, no running water, no electricity, no reliable adults, almost no money, and a god cat thing that hates him (mutually). That’s fantastic. Perfect, even. He’s lying to himself, yeah.

He sits down and immediately changes into the hoodie and sweatpants, cringing at the suit he was in. “Gross…urgh, I’ll just toss it out. Maybe at an open flame or something. I’m sure there’s a couple of arsonists somewhere…or fireplaces, that’d be more likely.” Umbrella shoves the suit into a corner where he can see a rat hole. “...maybe they’ll eat it or something. Rats can totally eat fabric? Maybe? Man, am I talking to myself again?”

Umbrella slaps himself in the face to stop himself from continuing to talk to himself, and instead decides to await the return of cat. He absently catalogues stuff about his new body as he waits. He’s far taller than he used to be, he doesn’t have that pudge on his belly anymore (sadly, he actually quite liked the softness), and he’s bald. No more fluffy hair for him, he supposes…though he does have a tiny bit of fluff. Actually, does it count as being bald if he doesn’t have the same mane of hair as he used to but still has hair? Is he like a short haired cat? Or a dog? 

He is interrupted by the cat coming back with a…oh, that’s a very recognizable item. That’s a green boombox. He stares. “...are you trying to get us killed?” He grabs the cat and shoves it into the building. “We are so dead! Oh my fucking god, what is wrong with you! Are you trying to start conflict or-”

He hears Boombox, the demon, in the distance, shouting. Uh oh. He kicks the boombox, the item, out into the street and scrambles back into his little hidey hole. He grins down at the cat. “You’ll have to try harder than that to get me to interact with other people! I was notorious in middle school for hiding in the lockers whenever my bullies passed by!”

The cat just gives him a judging look. Umbrella deflates. “Okay, well, maybe that’s not a good thing to flex with, but if you squint it could be considered-” 

Umbrella gets tapped on the shoulder, “Hey, I think your cat-” and promptly socks Boombox directly in the face. Knocking him out. Oh, he’s gonna have to move base again, isn’t he? He panics. “Uh, so…do you think the cops here accept heartfelt apologies?” He hurries back inside, collects his luckily meager belongings, and immediately gets back on the move, rambling to the cat.

“Okay, okay, so you’re stupid or just incredibly mean and stole Boombox’s…boombox. That was very rude, and now I’ve had to knock him out because he scared me. However, I also very clearly remember weighing 100 pounds wet and my strongest punch only giving the other guy a light bruise. Did you do that? If you did that, I’m both thankful and horrified because I’m very nervous about accidentally knocking somebody’s adult teeth out because those are not possible to grow back I’m pretty sure. However, I have also never done any research on whether adult teeth grow back so I may be wrong. Did you know you screwed me over and we might get arrested because in my experience cops do not accept heartfelt apologies?”

The cat just stares. Rude. Umbrella is pouring his heart out here and it doesn’t even care. He finds another, less nice building and squirrels his way into it, finding a very nice spot that’s surprisingly clear of dust. Probably a sign somebody else was here, but if the way he knocked out Boombox says anything, he can probably deal with it. He won’t aim for the mouth, obviously, teeth are important here and also everywhere else, so he’ll probably go for the chest or something.

He’ll just…clean up the building more and desperately hope that Boombox doesn’t reme

mber him. That’ll work. Hopefully.