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allthenamesithinkofaretaken · 1 year

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There Was an Attempt:

Looking For Answers Pt. 3

[I based the name of The Fates off by the Greek Mythology, but for their personalities and the way they act, I completely made it all up, so if you’re an expert on mythology please don’t come after me.]

Important!

I have good news and bad news—

Good news: I'm taking requests! So if you want to see Immortal! Reader and Muerte in some scenarios feel free to ask.

Bad News: I won't be posting anything after February 16, so that means after that, TWaA will be going on a hiatus because my second semester is starting then and college will be taking up most of my time, so request away! I'll try to be quick to write it all!

“So, uh, how do we do this? Do I have to perform some sort of ritual or…” She looked uneasily up at Muerte, who let out a sigh as he pushed himself off the tree. They were back in that clearing where she had first met Vida, away from the sights of the townsfolk and just a few steps into the woods. He had told her it would be best to do this in an empty space, and his wording alone left enough shivers down her spine to try and make her rethink her choices in life.

“I’ll be the one taking you there,” he replied, stopping in front of her and raising a finger up. “But first, there are rules.” she blinked owlishly up at him, brows raised in interest. “Don’t touch their web, all the threads there are actual fates of the people in this world and any sort of unwanted interruption would cause a chaos that none of us would be happy to clean up.” She flinched at that, already taking mental notes as he began to pace, she had to sit herself down for the next few ones, already keeping a close attention to everything he said.

“When they’re talking, you always reply to the last one to speak,” He kneels down in front of her, looking deep into her eyes so she knew just how serious this was. He didn’t want her hurt, she may be immortal, but the fates could bring misfortune to the both of them should they do something that would make them mad. “Since we’re going in unannounced, I want you to be more polite than you’ve ever been in your entire life, all right?” He raised his brows, and she found herself nodding along.

“I— wait, why didn’t you tell them? It’s been a week since I last told you, there was plenty of time!”

He visibly tensed at the thought of even going there once again. “The Fates usually don’t enjoy the idea of being disturbed, and even I don’t know what they’d do should something bad happen.”

She cringed, the thought of embarrassing herself in front of the sisters making her stomach churn. “Well it’s a good thing you’re coming with me, huh?”

“And I’m not leaving you alone,” Muerte takes her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re immortal, but The Fates have your thread in there somewhere, and I’m not sure if they have the power to cut your cord or not.”

“Right,” she gives a reassuring squeeze back. “So is that it? Be polite, answer to the sister that spoke last, and don’t touch the web?”

“Yes,” He spoke, his brows still furrowed with worry as he lifted her back up to her feet. “Now, stand a few feet away and I’ll get the circle ready.”

“Circle?” She asks, following his instructions anyway as he unsheathes one of his sickles.

“A mark,” He replies, dropping the edge of his sickle to the ground and beginning to draw a circle below. She was surprised at how perfect it almost looked, following every movement Muerte did as he continued to carve out strokes and arcs into the ground. “Each one of us has our own marks to get in each realm, these circles just make it easier for mortals to get there…” He shrugged as he finished, looking down at his work before turning to her. “If they know which one to use, of course.”

He holds out a hand, and she takes it into her own before carefully stepping into the circle, careful not to smudge the lines. She didn’t know much about magic, but she was sure that anything wrong that might happen in a certain ritual then she’d either turn out dead or severely damaged, and stars know that she didn’t want to feel any more pain from near death experiences.

“You said ‘mortals’, does that mean that you don’t have to do this all the time?” He nodded at her question. “So you’re only doing the circle now because I’m coming with you?”

“You catch on quick,” he grinned, and she gave a proud smile as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him in the middle of the mark he had made. “But yes, this is the safest route I can think of, especially since I don’t know what will happen to you if I teleport the both of us there.”

“Right,” she huffed, wrapping her arms around him. “Do we have to be this close or did you just want a hug?”

Muerte grinned, “It might be a part of the ritual, who knows?”

“Does the ritual require a kiss?” She grinned, and he leaned down to give her a peck on the lips, the embarrassment and surprise on her face causing Muerte to laugh.

“You asked for it,” he hummed, tucking a lone strand of hair behind her ear as she grumbled underneath her breath. “But we’re burning daylight,” he paused, looking up at the sky for a moment. “Should we?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, feeling the nervousness begin to form a pit in her stomach. She could feel Muerte squeezing her shoulder for reassurance, and there was a brief moment of silence before a blinding purple light turned her vision white, her hands clenching around Muerte’s sides as panic overtook her. She shuts her eyes tight, not daring to open them as she feels a surge of coldness blow through her, and then… silence.

She didn’t want to move a muscle.

Until she feels Muerte place a gentle kiss on her scalp, feeling his hand run down the top of her head to the back of her neck. “We’re here.”

Peeking through one eye, she saw nothing but darkness that began to stretch on and on from miles on miles as if wherever they were had no beginning, or an end. Her heart rate picked up as her grip on Muerte’s poncho tightened. She didn’t know if it was the void in front of her that made her shiver, or if it was just the nervousness in her that made her fingers cold against her palm.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, placing a hand on top of her own and easing her grip out of him. “I’m here.”

“But where are The Fates?” She takes a cautious step back, not wanting to smudge the mark underneath them, only to realize that the circle was gone. Muerte takes a hold of her hand.

“We’ll be seeing them soon enough.” He starts to stalk forward, and she follows him in his steps, never once letting her eyes stray from one part of the darkness too long. The place made her queasy, the more she lingered on one spot for too long, she felt as if she was falling in place with her eyes closed, Muerte’s grip on her hands being the only one keeping her in place and sane. She feels for the small dagger on her hip. Muerte had given her this a few days ago after one of their training sessions, despite her complaints and constant nagging at how she didn’t like the thought of killing people, he had still given her a short dagger anyway, saying that he’d feel more content with the thought of her with a blade than with none at all.

She never thought she’d ever try to use the blade, and yet she always brings it along with her anyway.

It wasn’t until she hears 3 voices echoing nearby did her heart feel as if it dropped to her stomach, the nervousness she felt before only doubled now, her eyes wide as she found herself tracing the patterns of the gigantic web in front of her that looked as if it stretched out for miles and miles above with longer threads on either side to keep it from falling apart. She wondered how long those threads were, and whose lives that would be, she wondered where hers was, and if the Fates knew that they had spun a thread that belonged to an immortal being.

She could feel Muerte’s grip on her hand loosen, and she looked up to him in a panic, her widened eyes looking up at his own as he seemed to stop in his tracks.

“What are you—”

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, and her lips pursed in a straight line. “There’s still time to go back.”

“I—” she paused, looking down the nonexistent ground before shutting her eyes with a sigh, replying with a determined nod of the head. “I want to hide whatever it is that can kill me. My secret won’t stay a secret forever, and I know when that happens, then something out there will be determined to do what they can to get what I have.”

He cups her cheek, eyes looking over her head to watch the spiders spin their threads before shifting his gaze back down at her. “It’s not like I’ll let them get anywhere near you.”

She places a hand atop his own, giving him a small smile as she places a quick kiss to the palm of his hand. “I know,” she sighed. “But you can’t protect me forever. I want to do this.”

Muerte blows out a breath, nodding his head and then lacing his hand back to her own, continuing their path towards the weaving spiders.

The closer they got, the closer she could hear the mutters and mumbles coming from the three, she could also see just how different their web was from normal spiders. It was shining as if they were made from crystals, and she swore if she could look at them close enough, there were images flashing across the thread as if it was a person’s entire life being displayed right in front of her eyes. She wanted to touch it, wanted to reach out her hands and wonder what it was like to hold it, but Muerte’s warnings echoed in her head, and she had to shut her hand in a tight fist, keeping herself behind the wolf and her gaze up at the mumbling spiders as they worked.

“Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos!” Muerte called out, his voice booming over the silence and even causing the web to vibrate just a bit, her breath hitching as she watched the vibrations travel upwards until it catches the attention of those at the top, moving so fast as they climbed down that she could feel the goosebumps running down her entire body. She never liked spiders, and now she had three giant ones looking down at her, their beady eyes scanning the both of them before a grin stretched out on their faces.

“My, my, my,” the largest one hummed, and she’s read about them quite enough for the past few days to know which was which. Most of their depictions were humans, however, but if she were to take a guess, the largest one would be the oldest, and the oldest one in the books was always Atropos, the one who decided how the mortals would die and when. “A familiar face, a familiar life—”

“—Unexpected as it may seem—” the middle one continued, and she guessed this one to be Lachesis, the one who measured how long a mortal’s life would be.

“—What brings you to our web again—?” She blinked owlishly at the last set of words that left Clotho, the youngest and the one that weave the threads as the mortal is in the womb.She couldn’t quite hear it or make out what language it was, but Muerte seemed to respond, and she wondered if that was his true name.

“The riddle,” he huffed, rolling his eyes, but before he could continue, she took a step forward, not wanting to have him do all the talking.

“It’s not specific enough,” her voice broke through the conversation like an uninvited knife through the air, their heads snapping in her direction and causing a hushed silence to fall as the sisters came stalking forward. She could feel Muerte’s grip on her growing tight, trying to get her to go back behind him but she wasn’t having it, letting go of his hand and looking up at the three in determination. “I’m the immortal that wants to get another riddle, something that would actually help, please.”

The oldest scoffed, stalking forward to the edge of the web where she was able to look at her eye to eye, her breathing coming to a full stop at the sight of the spider towering her very form.

“The one you seek is not one—”

“—nor two—” the middle interrupts the eldest, taking a thread into her own as the youngest begins to weave it.

“—nor three,” the youngest continues, the eldest going back to finally snip at the end of the thread that the two had measured and weaved before helping them attach it somewhere in the web, watching as it seamlessly attached to the others with ease. “It’s numbers differ, that we can guarantee—”

“—it can be a dagger, a sword, or a dish, or it could be the utterance of a true wish.” she looks to the eldest once again, watching as her legs tug on one of the webs before unlatching it, and the shine of the thread disappears, her head turning to Muerte with an almost wicked smile. (Y/n) didn’t need to look at Muerte to feel him tensing up from behind. “Duty calls,—” Atropos calls him by that name she can’t make out yet again.

“I’m not leaving (Y/n) behind,” Muerte’s words rumbled from within his chest, and when she lifted her head to look up at him, he had his glare set on the eldest of the three, whilst the other two continued to work on their threads. She didn’t even hear him unsheathe his sickles, and yet there they were in the palm of his hands, his grip tight against the hilt.

“It’s not like we’re going to hurt her,” The largest spider stalked forward, and she found herself taking a few steps back until her back hit Muerte’s chest. “If she is as indestructible as you say she is, then she’ll still be breathing by the time you come back.”

“Unless you’re afraid we’ll cut her cord,” The eldest’s grin grew wider at the sudden tenseness that seemed to radiate the wolf. “Now wouldn’t that be an idea.”

“And you wonder why I don’t want to leave her here with you?” Muerte scoffs, watching as the eldest turned away to cut the recent thread the other two had weaved together. “This’ll be quick anyway, so continue your riddle and we can be on our merry way.”

“Ah, ah—” The eldest waved a leg at him, all of her eyes squinting with amusement. “She stays here with us and you go do your job unless you want us to snitch on Father Time that you’d once again let your emotions get in the way of your purpose.”

Muerte tensed, and she could hear the angered breaths coming from him the more his patience grew thin. It wasn’t long before he began to mutter out strings of curses in Spanish, pacing as he ran his hand down his face, glaring holes into the eldest as if he wanted her to explode.

He turned his gaze to her, and she could only give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine… I promise.”

He knew that she didn’t know that, and she could tell with the way he never let up his stubborn gaze on her that he didn’t believe any of the words that she had said, so with a sigh, she takes one step closer towards him, fully turning her back to the three to reach her hand out to his arm, giving it a squeeze.

“You can do it quickly if you want, but I promise I’ll follow the rules and I’ll keep a safe distance away from them,” she whispers to him, biting down on her bottom lip for a second. “Besides, I’ll only ask them more about the riddle anyway, it’s not like they could find a reason to hurt me because of that.”

Muerte sighed, ducking down to her level and replying in the same hushed tone that she was, “Only ask the important questions, they don’t like to be tested.” His gaze softened, “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“I know,” she gave a smile, “Now go, I won’t break any more rules than I already have by butting in earlier.”

Muerte cringed at that, “Don’t do that again.”

“Who says we’ll be visiting here again?” She grinned, and he actually found himself chuckling at that, going back to his full height before turning around with one final glare to the sisters. He looks at her goodbye, and before she knew it, the darkness in front of her seemed to swallow him whole, leaving her with the three.

Turning around, she looked up at the web, freezing in shock at the sight that the spiders had stopped with their weaving to size her up.

“Uh… hi?” She gives an awkward wave of a hand, and before she knew it, her body was wrapped in the spider’s silk, a cry pushing past her lips as a cold breeze blew past her, one of the sister’s hauling her up and hanging her cocooned body up by her legs so that she faced them upside down, her blood running cold at the three that surrounded her.

“W-Wait! What are you doing?!” She panics, trying to break free from the silk that wrapped tightly around her body, but she couldn’t break her arms free, widened eyes looking up from where she was dangling to see a singular thread of silk at her feet and stretching up far above the darkness. She didn’t think it was possible to stick a web to nothing, or if there was a wall there somewhere and it was just too far away to see.

One of the sisters pushed her slightly back, her attention going back to the three. She was immediately face to face with Clotho.

“So you’re the immortal that Muerte has been asking about,” Atropos hummed, leaning closer to examine her. With her heart pounding heavily against her chest and the blood flowing down to her head, she hoped she wouldn’t end up throwing up. “I must say… we're glad to finally meet you, I never thought I'd ever see the day, but here we are."

“What?” She looked in shock at the eldest. “What do you mean?”

“Usually when there’s an immortal, they don’t come with invincibility like Muerte had described you to have.”

“Is.. that bad?” She was almost afraid to ask, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away from the three as they circled her.

“No,” Clotho hummed. “But if you think about it, really, no one makes an immortal also indestructible, now do they?”

Lachesis chuckled. “Unless, of course, there’s something important inside of them that needs to be protected.”

She froze, her eyes growing wide as she processed that information. “Wait— what?”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? Answers?” Atropos grinned, holding a thread up and tugging on it. She let out a gasp, a surge of pain exploding through her chest as she watched the thread turn gold, following the yellow light until she had realized that the thread looped around the entirety of the web. An endless cycle with no end nor beginning.

“I don’t understand,” she traced the golden light of the thread yet again, checking to see if she had simply missed something, that her thread didn’t actually loop around the entirety of the web, and yet no matter how many times she looked, it was always the same. “I don’t—”

“We’re surprised you don’t know,” Lachesis hummed, crouching down and tilting her head up at her to be able to look her in the eye. “I thought Muerte was asking because he normally doesn’t like it when humans have a hold of such power.”

“But you’ve always been immortal, haven’t you?” Lachesis grinned. “Even before you were born.”

“I don’t think you’re making too much sense,” she shut her eyes, unable to keep her focus from being dangled. Atropos sighed, cutting the thread that was holding her up and the cocoon that wrapped around her body, breaking her free from the restraints. She let out a relieved sigh, muttering a small ‘thank you’ to the eldest as she placed her back down to the ground. She stumbled back from the dizziness, raising a hand up to her head.

“The first riddle, do you remember it by word?”

“Yeah,” She huffed. “What you seek has once been sought, and when it has, the lines get crossed. And so it seeks to find where others would not, to keep it safe and it’s magic unfraught.” The words were basically etched into her brain from the amount of times she’s stared into that small piece of paper, muttering it to herself every night.

“What do you think it is?” Atropos tilted her head to the side, and (Y/n) simply gave a glare.

“You think if I knew, I’d be here trying to ask for another riddle?”

At that Lachesis and Atropos scoffed whilst Clotho only let out an amused giggle, the two older sisters glaring at the younger who immediately stopped at their stern stare.

“Our riddle is clear enough,” Atropos grumbled, clearly not liking having to spell it out for her. “I won’t give you another one—”

“—But—” she tried to retort.

“—but, I’ll be generous enough to give you a hint.” Atropos huffed. “It takes some courage to try and get our brother to even agree to let him take you here, and even more to strike up the idea to try and talk to us face to face. " The eldest continued, "But this will still come at a cost."

Now that made the worry in her stomach churn, looking up at them with concern. "Like?"

"You have all the time in the world," Lachesis smirked, her eyes sparkling just a bit too much in excitement. "So we won't cash it in just yet."

Stars, she knew just how much of a bad idea it would be to bargain something that she wouldn't be so sure of the results, but if it would be the only way to get answers, then fine, she'll bite. Besides, how bad could their favor even be?

"Fine," she huffed out after a minute of thinking, already feeling the regret creeping up her spine as their looks of satisfaction only worsened the feeling. "So what's the hint?"

"The riddle isn't about what can kill you," Atropos hummed. "It's about you."

"What?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing, turning to the others for some help.

"What you seek has once been sought, and when it has, the lines get crossed. And so it seeks to find where others would not, to keep it safe and it’s magic unfraught." Clotho repeats the rhyme without missing a beat, and Lachesis continues much to her surprise.

"Keep it in mind, little one: No one makes an immortal indestructible, unless their blood is more than valuable."

Her shoulders tensed, the words echoing in her head until the warmth of a hand finds itself on her shoulder, and she flinches.

Muerte looks down at her with worried eyes, and she reaches out to his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, the tenseness disappearing as she finds herself safe under his watch.

"We're done here," Atropos waved a leg out, much to Muerte's surprise, widened eyes looking up at the three. "It was nice to get to know you, (Y/n). We'll call you when we need to cash in on our favor."

It felt as if she was being dragged away, the web slowly getting farther and farther away as Muerte's grip on her shoulder tightened. Her eyes snapped open, not even realizing that she had closed them only to find herself back in that clearing where they had been earlier that day, Muerte looking down at her with concerned yet angered eyes, his hand gripping tight at her own.

"What did you do?" He asked, there was anger lingering in his tone, and his grip on her hand tightened. When she looked down, the back of her palm had a singular line down at the middle in a darkish purple ink, and when she went to rub at it, it wouldn't fade away.

A mark that symbolizes the favor, she thought.

"(Y/n)," Muerte's voice pulled her back from her thoughts, and she mumbled a small apology, surprised at the fatigue that coursed through her. "It's alright, the feeling will go away in a few hours." He reassured, she could sense that he was waiting to ask what happened, but she was glad to have had a break from the talking and the constant thinking, just laying in his arms and watching the blades of grass swaying with the wind.

When she gathered herself properly, she sighed, shutting her eyes. "They said something about my blood," she starts, catching Muerte's attention. "Something about it being important or valuable because if that wasn't the case, what would be the point of indestructible skin?"

"Well—" he catches his tongue, his grip on her growing tight just the slightest as the answer finally grows much closer to him, his breath hitching.

"Muerte?" She called out, tilting her head up to look at him, only to find him already looking down at her with a look of disbelief. Her look of confusion shifted into worry.

"I might… have an idea."

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