10 Fanfic #10 Argent by Hmmaster (D&D / Young Justice SI)
This a recent fanfic that's a crossover between d&d and young justice. If you don't know much about d&d you can still enjoy the story.
Edit:I was just told this is yaoi soooo, do you what you will with that info.
Synopsis: Saddled with the burden of a mind flayer parasite, a young man from a world without magic must grapple with newfound powers that challenge his better instincts and his moral upbringing. Will he fall prey to these eldritch impulses or rise above them to become a hero?
Rated: M
words: 47k
https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/argent-d-d-young-justice-si.909335/
Here's the first chapter:
The muted sound of what could only be shifting flesh stirs me from a horrible nightmare into a more horrid reality. My eyes shake open after a moment, only to find more shadow that clarity. Panic erupts in my chest with the realization that I am pinned inside… something. Every few seconds, that something undulates, and it is all I can do to breathe.
Would this be my coffin? Is this too dissimilar from being buried alive?
Light floods the darkened chamber, partially blocked by the silhouette of a tall, thin figure floating into view. A robe flutters at its feet, and four spindly tentacles protrude from the base of its purple-skinned, oblong head. A wide, terrifying collar extends behind its neck, and sickly eyes turn their attention toward the strange structure in the middle of the chamber.
…
An illithid.
A mind flayer!?
Thoughts race through my head as I consider what the hell this should mean. What could this mean?
I have never dreamed of being a character in a D&D game before, despite the hundreds of hours of playing over the past several years. Clearly, this proves I'm overdue.
Yeah – a nightmare from late-night caffeine and snacks. No way could this be anything different.
The eldritch being hovers inches above the ground, its fleshy clothing accentuating its alien nature. It stops in the center of the chamber, reaching out with its fist. As its fist opens, so too does the pod, telekinetically. A glimmering amber liquid comes into view, the pool's surface almost vibrating as its dim light fills the room.
If this is a dream, it is the most vibrant, life-like one that I've ever had.
What should I do? Is there anything that I can do?
Something else shifts to my right, and a githyanki woman, dressed in one of their infamous crystal-studded breastplates, wrestles against her bindings, stuck in the same pod-like container as me. Someone shares my fate.
The mind flayer pulls something small and slimy from the vat of liquid and places it in its other palm, then floats in front of the woman, offering its hand to her face. Something small and white – an insect, maybe – leaps from the alien's hand and onto her yellow-skinned face. She tries to pull away, but there's nowhere for her to go.
To my horror, the slimy thing burrows into her face!
"N- no! Please!"
My cries are on deaf ears.
Another of those white creatures climbs onto the mind flayer's hand. It almost gently floats toward me, as though it will enjoy watching me squirm for each second that passes. Its truly alien face is as sinister as it is bizarre, eyes glimmering with the faint light from the vat of liquid.
Something grips my head, unseen, in an iron vice, holding me in place.
That pain is real.
This is no dream.
Real!
A hand with long fingers dangles the white creature in front of my face. The slick, segmented thing lurches toward my eye, its circular rows of teeth opening to feast on a helpless target.
.A.
A grassy field stretches nearly as far as I can see. A beautiful place, ringed with valleys and mountains. Stone paths cut into this garden, and fountains spray mist into the sky, carried by the wind to douse the fresh greens around the area. The smell of honeysuckle brings me back to my childhood, running around with my friends trying to drink as much of the sweet nectar as we could.
"This is wonderful, Logan."
A deep, masculine voice cuts through my reverie.
Dressed in a fine purple robe that displays just enough chest to be enticing, a dark-haired elven man stretches lazily. The lean muscles in his arms tense as he reaches out to caress my shoulder, trying to draw me closer.
I shift toward him, mind racing at how and why this beautiful man is here. His green eyes twinkle as he smiles, perfect jawline tightening.
"Who are you?"
The calm voice responds, youthful and alive. "I'm someone who has been looking for you, searching for you for ages. And now, you're finally here."
His hand finds mine, finger tickling the inside of my palm. I fight the urge to not smile.
"Why me?"
"Why not you? You're my Chosen, truer than anything else I've ever known." A hand brushes against my cheek, and it is strangely sad that he had to let go of my hand to do it.
The longer I look into his eyes, the harder it is to look away from them. And why shouldn't I enjoy this attention?
"What am I being chosen for, exactly?"
The man chuckles wonderfully. "My only goal is to help you reach your highest potential." He shifts, pressing lightly against my neck to beckon me to lie flat on the grass with him. "You and I have great works in store. You need only let me in, and I can show you the way to destiny."
His fingers trail across my collar bone as I finally indulge him, my back buried in the grass once more.
"I-"
"Do not listen to it." A female voice whispers, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once. The skies almost seem to darken with this presence. "This is a trick, young one."
A flash of memory pushes to the surface – the darkened chamber, the writhing tentacles, the helpless gith. I was somewhere else, wasn't I? Or was that the dream, and this is real? Or is everything here a trick?
A sigh of something akin to frustration shakes me from my thoughts. The elven man, skin smooth as silk and almost shining with the light of the sunlight peeking through the clouds, sullies his face with a frown.
"You're not yet ready."
That stings – I want to be ready.
Don't I?
"I will return when you are." He reaches toward me, breath across the side of my cheek as he whispers into my ear, "But, I do have a parting gift."
The man's weight, previously pressed against my side, vanishes as he disappears, leaving me alone on this garden terrace.
The wind strengthens, and the cloud layer darkens the sky.
.A.
The sensation of searing heat forces me awake, and the center of the room has erupted into flames. The vat of liquid that held those slimy slugs is nearly in pieces, fire licking at its surface. I pull away from the heat on instinct and am relieved to discover that my right side is no longer pinned. Whatever damaged this room also broke apart nearly half of the pod holding me in place, and it is only by sheer luck that I am unscathed.
The relief that I can move is short-lived.
How… how is this happening?
My left eye itches, and a dull headache throbs. The realization that that slug might still be inside me nearly causes me to faint.
Panic sets in as my breath catches in my throat, fingers shaking in fright.
I need help. How can I get help? If this is real, and I am growing more certain of that by the second, then I need to do something soon. Flames will spread, as flames are wont to do, and I have no interest in being burned alive.
My eyes flash toward the pod where the githyanki woman had been held captive, but she was no longer there. The door to her pod, a warped and strange piece of metal, is in a heap on the floor.
I hope that she is faring better than I am in this situation. If anyone can help me, it would be her.
A wriggle and a squeeze later, and I haphazardly fall to the floor in a heap, thankfully not close to any flames. My eyes widen at the sight of my hand in front of me, from where I braced myself. The skin is no natural human skin tone – a light grey, almost silver hue.
I check the rest of what I am carrying, hoping for something that I could use to defend myself. Nearly skin-tight dark brown leather armor covers my torso, a dagger rests on my belt, and a backpack is still strung over my shoulder. Most surprising, however, is the gilded band around my bare bicep– it is nearly identical to the one around the elven man in my dreams. The band is almost reflective, and though I cannot be certain exactly what I am seeing, the color of my eyes is pure white.
What the fuck?
