Chapter Text
Reality writhed at the entrance of the King.
It was expected, of course. While the King would prefer not to be know in entirety, it would tell you that its' very being was a toxin to Reality. It would also tell you that you were nothing in comparison to it, but that is besides the point.
The point is that the moment the King had entered your reality, it had bent and whined in his presence.
Briefly, very briefly, light ceased to function. Earth refused to spin around its' star. The stars refused to spin around the black hole in the center of your galaxy. The black hole refused to consume even a single atom.
And then the King breathed, secure in his new body, his new reality, his new home—
then everything
broke
and the King smiled
The King's castle, which had always been there, and yet never been there, was on the other side of the golden doors. Derek stared at it with open eyes as he panted against the door frame. His mouth was dry and his legs felt like lead. There was the chaos of a broken world outside, but it seemed to fade away as he stared up.
How had he gotten—?
Right, the- the walls of his apartment had... for lack of a better word, sloughed off the side of the building. People had fallen, people had died, people everywhere were going mad. All of it, happening at once. And Derek Knew it all.
Carcosa had come to call.
He'd run through a... door? Something like it. It was hard to remember, his head still fuzzy from... what was it?
Derek was almost thankful he'd gone through this once before. Made it easier to come back to his senses.
Right. He'd seen golden doors appearing out of nowhere, he'd run to the one he knew nothing of. It wasn't a choice, it was instinct, self preservation. He'd run for the closest thing to salvation that he had.
There had been a world, strange and uncanny. There had a been a puzzle Derek... didn't remember solving. There had been others, each crazed or sane in their own way. He had avoided all of them, he thinks, only running towards the next door, the next exit from the madness that was pursuing him.
The madness of the Knowing had nearly killed him. It should have killed him.
But it didn't.
He stepped through the last set of doors, eyes staring up at the sight before him as his mind finally started to slow ever so slightly.
Looking at the castle had the same effect as looking at his screen (broken screen now, sitting under a pile of rubble) did. It hurt less. To stare at it (he was staring at it wasn't he? Or was it staring at him?) meant his brain wasn't literally melting out of his nose.
"You found me."
He is suddenly inside the castle.
Derek makes the mistake of Looking again—
His breathe freezes in his lungs
Because there, existing in Avery's body like it is a throne, is the King. Quiet and arrogant. Cold and passionate. Uncaring and cruel. Derek was slightly surprised to see him in the same shape, surprised the King hasn't torn Avery's body to shreds. Instead, he's decorated it with gold.
A golden crown sits atop Avery's head. Blue flowers twist between its' tines. The robe that falls from him is tattered and regal all at the same time. The layers of the fabric seemed endless. Derek is sure if he were to crawl in them, he would be lost for eternity.
The single instant seems to last hours and hours. The King is sitting in Avery's body. Which means...
Derek's fractured mind pulls the pieces together. It strings fractured memories together in a semi-coherent timeline of events. Something cold drips into his stomach as his mind, once again, see's
everything
and it Knows he has failed
"That I have." He hears himself say.
The King had its' fair share of mortals that it had kept in the past.
Some were family of his vessels, kept as Lords and Ladies of his Court out of a twisted sense of affection. Some were servants, who had bound themselves in deals so tight they couldn't breathe. Some of them were jesters, entertaining him with their defiance until they inevitably ended their own lives.
He was sorely tempted to turn Derek into a jester.
But, no. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all for the little mortal who thought he could outsmart a god. The little human who, for all his bravery, had come through that door over, and over, and over again. No matter the world, Derek always found his way to those doors...
He always found a way to intervene.
No, the audacity of this mortal's existence was enough to warrant special treatment.
In this world, though, the mortal had lost. He had lost everything. Despite the universe chucking him at the King like a white blood cell to an infection, Derek had lost the game. King takes pawn. And here Derek was, on the ground at it's feet like he should be. At the very least, the King would make this Derek pay for the audacity of the others.
The said mortal was writhing as he clutched at his head. If the King were to put in into mortal terms, it almost looked like a seizure. There was blood dripping down his nose, staining his skin and hair red. The color looked good on him. The King wanted to see him drenched in that color.
It didn't matter who's blood it was. It could be Derek's or some strangers, but the King wanted to see him bathed in it.
The sounds Derek made as he writhed were so intoxicating. Perhaps that was merely the benefit of being in this vessel's body, but the King had never heard anything quite as sweet. He could leave him like this for hours-Ah, but Derek was still fragile. As much as the King enjoyed this, it must think of the future.
He reached down and gently, ever so gently, touched the mortal's head.
The pain was lessened. Just enough for Derek to pass out with a shuddering cry. Just enough so that looking at it in all his Realness would not kill the poor little mortal. Not yet. No, Derek wouldn't die until the King was satisfied that the audacity had been paid back ten times over.
"What a role you shall play..."
It whispered in his ear, his vessel's voice, gentle and sweet.
"...my Knight."