#pspsp i need him for .... something...

[ubtendo]

JAW'S ON THE FLOOOOORRRR💖💖💞💕💞💞💖💞💞💕💞💞💖💕😭😭😭😭💖😭💕😭😭😭💞😭💞💞💞

Look at all her smugness, the sawg the power

Well since Syreene, Scarlet and Spear are non canon I haven't thought about her personality as much as for the others, but she would definitely be as smug as you made her! I think she would be the second oldest just behind Soda so her being an older sister makes sense.

And initially I had part of a story written out for her and her non canon brothers in sort of a dystopian setting, so this fits her perfectly

AND THE BOOTS IM DYING😭😭🔥🔥😭💥😭💥💥

Well, here is the outfit I thought of for Syreene! @ubtendo ´s lil baby

Clothing analyses under the cut!

first of all, she is sassy; you can tell by her looks

but she also is caring of her family, which she doesn´t openly say most of the time

BUT! She shows through her clothing!

the dots on her sleeves aren’t just random colors; they are the main colors of her siblings!

Orange for Soda, dark blue for Spear, light blue for Scout, black and white for Symbol, and red for Scarlet!

She has a pouch where she keeps little bandages, so if anything happens, she is ready for little scratches (or sibling fights)

Her clothing shows that she is capable; she can fight if she wants, but she still has that feminine vibe going on with the sleeves

she has high boots tied up all the way to give her more protection if she needs to fight

The openness in her clothes represents her openness to the world, what can happen and all, but also the tightness of her shorts and her top shows that she is ready to close off if anybody is giving her bad vibes

over all, she is just a big sister with a big heart. She loves her family and she is ready to protect them at any time!

also, THESE ARE ONLY HEADCANONS!!! I KNOW NOTHING OF HER PERSONALITY, AND I WENT WITH HER OVERALL VIBES WHEN CREATING HER OUTFIT!!! IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT HER, PLEASE GO TO @ubtendo !!! SHE IS HER CREATOR!!!

(I am merely a fan in the wide abyss)

[allpiesforourown]

We need more variety in svsss aus please please I need to read fics about bingyuan surviving in an apocalypse together or something. Pspsps wouldn't it be sooo sexy if shen yuan got bitten by a zombie protecting Binghe and then instead of killing him, Binghe kept him trapped for 5 years trying to find a cure? Come onnn you wanna write this so bad. Binghe would want shen yuan to eat him but shen yuan would have some vague memories and refuse to and Binghe would cry

[flightlessangelwings]

Sweeter Than Coffee

Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook (Reader) (gender neutral)

Word count-1265

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), praise, body worship, oral, romance, soft and sweet, written in second person reader insert style but also written as Rook so you can interpret it however you like (insert, oc, however!), no physical description of Rook/Reader

Notes-I was at work when Lucanis spoke to me with this idea and here we are lol! Short and sweet but I loved this idea so much! Pspsps @ollypopwrites! Enjoy and let me know what you think!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~ 

“Meirda, Rook,” Lucanis purred, “You look so beautiful in the moonlight.”

“Lucanis…” you playfully nudged him as you felt your skin tingle. His words always made you feel a flutter in your chest, something you weren’t used to. And to be honest, you were sure if you could ever get used to his sweet praises.

“It’s true, Rook,” he ran his hand along your bare skin, “No other sight compares to you, mi amor.”

He had you stripped bare before him and on your back out on a pile of blankets. Only the moonlight illuminated your bodies as you laid together under the stars. There was a slight nip in the air, but you didn’t feel it at all under Lucanis’ warm gaze. 

“Are you always such a romantic, Lucanis?” you smirked.

Lucanis gazed down at you from where he hovered, his arms on either side of your body to frame you between his hands, “Why don’t you find out?” he replied with a quip of his own.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, and Lucanis joined in your laughter.

“Your laughter is music to my ears,” his tone dropped as he turned more serious, “And…” Lucanis closed the gap between your faces, taking your lips with his own in a tender, sweet kiss. You moaned into him as you grabbed his arms. “You taste so good,” he murmured against your skin before he kissed you again.

“Mmm,” you hummed into his kiss as his tongue danced with yours.

“Mas dulce que cafe,” Lucanis whispered.

Sweeter than coffee, you echoed in your mind. Any smart reply you had vanished from your thoughts as he kissed you again. This kiss was deeper, more passionate than the last, yet it was still slow. Lucanis took his time with you, tasting every corner of your mouth, savoring you.

When he finally broke away from his kiss, you inhaled deeply to fill your lungs again. Although you felt like you didn’t even need air with Lucanis around; his kisses were all you needed to survive. But, you felt breathless once more as he kissed his way down your neck, licking and nibbling at your skin. You buried a hand in his hair, tugging gently as he sucked at a particularly sensitive spot.

A slight giggle escaped your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. You knew he felt it too because you felt a low rumble from deep in his throat. That rumble went right to your core, though, sending warmth throughout your body.

“Lucanis…” you breathed as he shifted himself down.

“I know, mi amor,” he muttered as he kissed his way across your chest.

As he reached your nipple and wrapped his lips around it, you let out a loud moan. Arching your back into him, you tugged at his hair harder, encouraging him. You bit your lip to stifle another cry as Lucanis’ tongue rolled around your nipple before he gently bit it.

“You like that, amor?” he smirked as he glanced up at you with half lidded eyes.

“Tease,” you sighed back with a smile of your own.

“I am enjoying myself,” Lucanis’ eyes lit up as he dipped his head down and licked your other nipple, “Every inch of you is sweeter than the last,” he muttered as he kissed his way down your stomach, “But there is one thing I am craving more.”

“You’re impossible, Lucanis,” you tried to roll your eyes playfully, but his kisses distracted you from your banter.

“Just as impossible as you, mi amor.”

“Luc…” you were cut off by his mouth in between your legs, and you let out a gasp as you felt his tongue on you, “Fuck!”

Lucanis hummed with satisfaction as he devoured you. He gripped your thighs tightly as he licked and sucked between your legs. From the first moment he tasted you, he was addicted. He craved you every moment of every day, and even after having you, Lucanis always needed more. He felt his heart pound in his chest as he covered you with his mouth, greedily taking more of you.

You felt like you could float away if it weren’t for his strong grip holding you in place. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you arched your back. Cries of bliss filled the air as you felt his tongue swirl around you, lapping at every sensitive spot. Your legs trampled on either side of his head as you felt heat build from your core and your skin tingled with pleasure.

As you panted, you heard the sound of obscene splurging from between your legs as Lucanis ravaged you. If you were in a clearer headspace, you would have thought that he got just as much pleasure out of this as you did. And you would have been right. Blinking your eyes open- you didn’t even remember closing them- you caught a glimpse of his head between your thighs, and it made you groan as a fresh wave of pleasure pulsed through your body.

Dropping your head back down, you moaned even louder, “Lucanis… I’m gonna…”

He wanted to tell you to cum in his mouth. He wanted to tell you to let go, that he had you, that he would always have you. He wanted to tell you how good you tasted, and how beautiful you looked when you lost yourself. But he couldn’t tear himself away; he became too lost in you, too consumed with pleasuring you. Instead, Lucanis sucked harder, determined to send you over the edge.

It didn’t take long for Lucanis to get what he wanted, and you came hard with a loud scream. Your entire body shook as tears filled the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations. You cried out his name as you yanked at his hair and surrendered yourself fully to him, trusting him completely.

Lucanis kept going until he was sure he got every drop of your release, only breaking away with reluctance as you came down from your high. He pushed himself up to admire you as he licked his lips, not wanting to waste a single drop of your juices.

“Mierda,” he sighed as he watched you recover.

You opened your eyes and you felt your heart skip a beat from the way he looked at you. No one had ever looked at you with such admiration and awe the way Lucanis did, and you were sure you would never get used to it.

“Come here,” you whispered as you opened your arms for him.

“As you wish,” Lucanis grinned as he lunged forward, covering your body with his as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned into each other as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

As you locked your lips with his, you tried to roll your bodies over so that you could straddle Lucanis, but he stopped you. Breaking away, you looked at him with questioning eyes, “Lucanis?”

“I am not finished with you yet, mi amor,” he groaned as he leaned forward again to nibble on your earlobe, “I want to spend all night kissing every inch of you,” he kissed the nape of your neck, “I want to taste you over and over again,” Lucanis savored the moan you let out.

He paused, pushing himself up on his elbows to meet your gaze. He waited for you to open your eyes once more, and when you did, he gave you a mischievous smirk as he added, “Until it’s time to stop for coffee.” 

[everlastingserenitys]

Ghost In My Bed!

summ. How to get rid of a ghost in your house? Fuck him!

pairing. sylus x f!reader cw. ghost!sylus, p in v, fingering, teasing, tension, hand job, creampie, riding, kissing, dirty talk, Tara mentioned, some paranormal shit, p w little plot, belly bulging, Caleb mentioned wc. 3k :( a/n. first off I need more pics of sylus. 2nd, the link in one of the sentences just takes you to my ao3 fic! anyway this was stuck in my mind. sry if a lil sloppy

“Tara, are you sure this is a good place to move into?” You ask, glancing at the slightly worn out house in front of you. Vines draping down the roof, paint ripping off at every gush the wind blew.

“Okay don’t hate me for this but there maayy be something lurking inside there! I don't know though!”

“Seriously?!” you exclaim, playfully hitting her shoulder and looking back at the house one more time.

“If something happens it’s over for you.” You joke, crossing the fence and looking back at Tara.

Tara only giggled in response and wished you luck before you entered the house.

The second you entered the house you were met with an eerie feeling in the front room. A shudder left your body and you continued your walk. Then, a CRASH! echoed through the room.

Alarmed at the sound you pause at your spot, and look around before continuing your walk.

---

“Tara you were right this house is weird!” You groan, resting your head on your desk as your phone is lying against your ear.

“What happened?”

“I think there’s a ghost.”

A muffled chuckle echoed through your phone speakers, “I’ll be on my way.” She said and ended the call momentarily.

When Tara came to your place she looked around the scenery before the two of you headed to your room.

“I got some holy water in case, keep it in your drawer for now.” She said, giving you a clear glass bottle.

You thank her and switch the topic momentarily, talking as if there was nothing wrong with the house.

---

Once it was time for Tara to leave, you immediately plopped on your bed and shut your lights when she stepped out of your door. A tired sigh escaped your lips and before you could shut your eyes you felt a presence watching over you.

Half lidded eyes stared at the twisted shadow, unaware if there’s actually something there or you were just too out of your mind, but the more you stared, the closer the shadow seemed to come to you.

“Pspsps human”

“‘M not a kitten, what are you saying–”

But before you could finish your sentence your eyes drifted to a slumber and slept like nothing happened.

But when the next morning came along curiosity got to you and you had to search up what happened and get the ghost out of your place immediately.

---

🔍︎ are ghosts real

No Results

“Hm…”

🔍︎ how do i get rid of a ghost in my house

How to Get Rid Of a Ghost (REAL) | Click This To Find Out!

Curious, you hover your finger over the link and in a tap you were in.

A Guide On How to Get Rid Of a GHOST! (REAL)

1. First, check around your whole house to make sure there aren't any other ghosts lurking!

“Already done that.” you mutter, scrolling to the next step

2. Once you’ve looked around, make sure your house is sprayed with holy water ^^ (IMPORTANT STEP)

You glance around your house and shrug, moving onto the next step. There was no need for holy water if it’s just one ghost, plus just in case the ghost doesn't leave, you had it in your drawer to use later.

3. Now, go to the ghosts hiding spot (make sure you bring your phone with you too :D)

“Ugh, seriously?” You groan, getting up from your seat, but before you could even start walking–

CLANK!

You shivered in your spot and looked around your living room before sitting back down and peering your eyes at your phone.

4. Too scared? Try again.

You raise an eyebrow at your screen and either way get up again and continue to walk around your house, ignoring the sounds that may come. And on your walk, every step you took felt like someone was watching you, intently, as if there was a hawk watching its prey.

Once you took a good walk around your house and found nothing, you finally headed to your room. Resting your hand on the doorknob and pushing it down, pushing the door open to be met with…

Nothing.

“Oh.”

You look back down at your phone and read the next step.

4.5. Once you’ve found him–oh wait, did you?

Rolling your eyes you continue to move on.

5. If you found him, or if you didn’t (doesn't matter), say the phrase: ‘pspsps ghosty’ ;)

“This has got to be a joke.” you murmur, standing in the front of your room and looking around before chanting the phrase.

After you said the phrase a beat of silence echoed through the room and you knew it was stupid to even try again. You turn your body to the door and another thud! echoed through your room, except this time it sounded way closer…

Too close…

You slowly turn around to notice a book that was once resting on your bedside table was now lying on the ground. Curious, you pick up the book and look up, still no sight of anybody.

6. If the ghost still doesn’t appear after the phrase, keep repeating it until he gets a little agitated. Then it will show his true self!

With the stupid guide in your hands, you decided to try it out one more time, but this time, near your closet. You stepped towards your closet, quickly opening the door, letting any light seep through the dark cracks and recite your chant, with a hint of teasingness laced in it.

“Pspsps ghosty! Come out, come out wherever you are!” you tease, peering the door wider until a thud was heard inside the closet. Still unaware that the ghost may be in front of you, it wouldn’t be bad teasing it a little more.

“Come on ghosty, don’t you want to leave soon?”

…

“Pspsps ghosty–”

CRASH!

A grin danced on your lips and you pull open the door until all the light shined in, viewing a—

“What? It actually worked?!”

“Jeez, ‘m not a kitten, why’d you have to follow those stupid rules…” the ghost muttered, hopping out the closet and stumbled towards you. But the only thing you could think about was why you could see him and how to get him out..immediately.

“T-theres still more steps, let me check!”

7. Start questioning the ghost.

“How long have you been here?” you ask, staring at the angelic man standing in front of you as he fanned certain parts of his body, as if he was a delicate piece of glass who got pushed and cracked in seconds.

He stayed silent for a moment, fixing up one more part of his body before averting his ruby iris at you, a wash of a white aura glistened around his body and in the clear of a throat he finally spoke up.

“I’ve been here ever since you moved in, I'm surprised you haven't noticed.” a mocking chuckle left his lips and he plopped on your bed, the mattress sinking beneath him before he rested his head on your headboard, humming an arrhythmic melody.

“Why can I see you? And why aren’t you out of here?”

“Slow down,” he chuckled, dancing his necklace he had picked up from the desk around his fingers and playing with it for a few moments, “not sure why you could see me n’ read the guide if you want me out.”

“But either way you could’ve left before i found this guide, why not?”

“You’re interesting to watch.” he mumbled, throwing the necklace away and getting up from your bed, hovering his way to you, soon clasping his hands around your shoulders and pulling you to the bed with him.

“Huh–”

“Read the next rule, there was a reason I didn't want to leave.”

You sputter something incoherent and eventually bring your phone to your face and…What. The. Fuck.

8. Now that you have him with you, the only way to let him go is to fuck him!

You stare at your phone for a moment and back at the ghost.

“What’s your name?”

“Sylus.”

---

“Well, are you ready to leave my house after years of living here without me knowing?” you smirk, climbing onto his lap, clasping your hands on the sides of his face before leaning in closer, ghosting your breath over his parted lips.

“Try to take me down sweetie, I’d love to see you try.” he breathed, leaning closer until your lips were just millimeters apart.

Without letting him continue, you crashed your lips on his, a surge of hunger filled the heated kiss. Sylus reciprocated the kiss in the same manner, sliding his tongue against your puffed, sensitive lips and shoved his tongue through the parted opening.

You moan and seek for his tongue with yours, tying the warm flesh around yours, sucking and practically eating him alive, like he was an icecream cone on the verge of melting any second.

Sylus grabbed onto the sides of your head and pulled you away, catching his breath and stared at you with a new emotion filled in his eyes, something you didn't know you could see with a ghost.

“Why are you pulling away?” you tease, finding his lips again, watching his breath get ragged by the second, needy lips that want to push away so bad, kiss you back with the same hunger you had.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked between kisses, sinking himself deeper and deeper inside your mouth, savoring you like this was the last time he’s going to have you, and that was true. You were going to get him out no matter what.

“I’m sure. Now cooperate will you?”

Sylus chuckled in response and raised his hands in mock surrender, letting you get to work. His eyes lower down to your confident figure, watching intently as you stumble your fingers on his chest, skimming down before reaching his light spiked happy trail.

“If you want me out that bad, slow down.” he muttered, sliding his fingers through your damped hair, lifting your head to look down at you, a glint of approval filled in his eyes, waiting for you to agree.

And in a grumble you hesitantly agree, lowering your fingers slowly, savouring the moment.

Your fingers slide against his hard cock, digits wrapping around his leaking head, slowly stroking him as you stare into his eyes. You watched his reaction intently, watching as he squirmed and held back any loud noises as your fingers worked so well on him.

But his reaction just made you feel more confident. Confident enough that you could play with him like a worn out toy that needs to be used one more time before it gets thrown out. You pump your fist quicker and quicker, tightening your fingers around him.

Pre slicked down his cock, gliding against your fingers and Sylus’ noises just grew louder and louder, his breath hitching as he tried to chant his release but your fingers were blinding him from doing so.

He bucked his hips up, riding himself against you before a whimper slipped out of his lips, following with a plea that sounded like he was going to explode any second now.

“What is it?” you coo, stroking him one final time before he came undone, spurs of his mixture pool out of him and slides down to your hand. You stare at the mixture coating your hand and chuckle before leaning back and grabbing tissues to clean you up.

The air room felt suffocating by the second, you could feel the heat radiate off of you and Sylus. A mixture of warmth and coolness surrounded the two of you, making you draw yourself closer to him, wanting to feel more of him.

“Surprised that, that didn't take you out.” you mutter, pressing yourself against his cock, slowly riding yourself against him, feeling his wet, warm cock slide against your pants, leaking mixture seeking their way onto you.

“Exactly. You won’t take me out like this,” he grinned, grabbing onto your hips and throwing you beneath him. A surprised yelp escaped your lips and you cling your legs around him, one of his hands lowering on your body, sliding your pants down in a swift movement.

“Do you really believe some guide you found online?” He asked.

“Well if i found the ghost–ngh yes, I’d believe it?!”

Sylus smirks and slides your panties off, pressing his fingers against your clit, rubbing the sensitive area before a finger glides lower, sinking in your dripping cunt. He pushed his fingers deeper and deeper, digits fucking you, making you stutter.

Broken moans left your lips when you tried reasoning to why you were testing out the guide, but it was impossible to even speak when you felt his finger– wait– another finger slid into you and you arch your back in pleasure, burying your face in your palms feeling the cold fingers pump in and out of you.

“You’re so naive, sweetie.”

His other hands stayed held onto your hips as he continued stretching and prepping you. A shaky moan left your lips as you rolled your hips against his hand, seeking for more of his touch. But instead of giving you more, he pulls away, cupping onto your knees and spreading your legs apart.

“You want me gone right? So are you sure you want this?” he asked, eyeing down at you with a menacing glare. But you only nod in response, spreading your legs further apart, creeping yourself closer to him.

“I want it and you, gone.”

“So confident, don't you think?” he chuckled

“I’ll be willing to do anything to get a gho–ohh–”

Before you even got to finish speaking, Sylus already had his cock shoved deep inside you, his pace at a slow tempo before suddenly quickening faster and faster, brutal thrusts making contact with your sensitive spots, Sylus was practically destroying you.

You could feel him twitch inside you, catching his breath at every thrust, he was close. You flutter around him, clamming your legs around his hips, tightening yourself around him. Your hands made their way to his shoulders, nails clawing on his skin, draaggingg down on it, leaving marks.

“Willing to do anything?” he asked, leaning in closer, peppering kisses along your face. And you nod, nod repeatedly until it felt like your head was going to fall out, but Sylus only laughed at your face and continued to mindlessly pound into you.

“What will you do if I don't disappear after this?”

You gulp up the lewd words you were going to say, yanking your head back as pleasure was the only thing rushing through you. The feeling of his pulsating cock beating against your walls made you too much in a daze to even answer.

What would you do? You had no idea.

“I- don't..”

Your fingers fall off his shoulders and plop on the bed, gripping on the sheets tightly, as you ride out your orgasm. A victorious grin appeared on Sylus’ lips and he pulled away, staring at the mess dripping down your pussy and his cock.

But without wasting a second, he continued to ram into you with a more desperate pace, feeling every curve if you, letting you eat up every inch of him. He yanked his head back driving himself deeper inside you. Sylus' body shuddered as his grip remained tighter, trying to hold back his release.

“Could I stay with you if i don’t disappear?” he asked, thumbs grazing against your bulged belly, lightly pressing on it to go get a reaction out of you.

You moan in surprise and place your hands on his, gripping onto it like he was the only thing holding you back from crumbling beneath him. Sylus continued to tease you, still pressing you and playing with you until he finished.

But the second your fingers glide from his arms to his chest a spark of shock glinted in those dull ruby eyes, he started at you, trying to hold himself back but couldn’t when you were toying with him like that.

“Fuck…"

A twisted smile appeared on your lips and you continue to play with his chest, sliding the warm fingertips along his pecs. But when your fingers pressed on the middle of his chest again, Sylus bit his lip and stared at you through teary eyes, sighing heavily trying to gain his composure again.

“What…” Your eyes widened and you stare at the pooling mess beneath you, panting heavily before staring back up at Sylus who seemed to still be in front of you.

“Why..arent?” you breathe, catching your breath as you slowly got up, your legs and back aching at every inch you raised yourself.

“Did you read step number two?” he asked, carefully lifting you up and heading over to the bathroom.

“Agh, what was it again..”

“Make sure your house is sprayed with holy water.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly grab your phone, opening the guide and fuck.

9. I hope the ghost disappeared! If it didn't, refer back to step two okay? ;3

-- Guide Made by: applesgoboom

“Where do I get some?”

“Don’t you have it in your drawer?” Sylus asked, heading to your drawer and picked out a clear bottle with liquid filled inside it.

“Yes! Give me and we’ll start this all over again!” you pant, reaching for the bottle in his hands but this idiot decided to fuck with you even more and–

splash!

“Seriously?”

“Oh well, guess we’ll have to stay together forever.”

---

“I’d like a bottle of holy water.” You whisper to the violet eyed man in front of you, checking your surroundings before looking back at him.

“Holy water? What for?” He asked, ducking down at his counter, digging his hand through the drawer and trying to find a bottle.

“I need a ghost out of my house.”

“Ah…” he chuckled, raising up from the ground, empty handed.

“Looks like we’re out!”

You stare at him with an annoyed look and glance down at his name tag.

’Caleb :D’

Fuck you, Caleb.

part 11 of untamed desires | sylus -> next work

[crazylittlejester]

favorite thing about Warriors the way i write him is when hes in a piss poor mood people he trusts Can genuinely just kinda “pspsps” and subtly offer him shit and he Will stop sulking off by himself and come over

Time sees him off sulking on the other side of camp and he wants to call him over? He’ll pull out an orange and peel it a little, set it down next to him, and War WILL come over. He’ll be huffing and groaning and dragging his feet but he’ll come

Twi’s bored and wants War’s company but the captain has been in a shit mood all day? He’ll pour him some wine and just wait for like 2 seconds before War appears, a little pissed off but there nonetheless

Wind wants to make sure he’s okay? He’ll start whining about a hole in his tunic and say he doesn’t want Legend touching it and War will materialize with his sewing kit (And what’s being offered to War here? A chance to prove to himself he IS useful and valued by the group)

it only works when hes like mildly annoyed or just grumpy, like ‘woke up on the wrong side of bed’ just bad mood. when theres genuinely something wrong he will continue to sit in the corner and thats when the others know they gotta go get him or give him space to work through his own problems if thats what he needs

[deveondog]

Mozus Trein & GN reader who self harms

Summary: Its one of your first classes, Adeuce and Grim fuck up again and you four are asked to stay after class. But Mr Trein seems to want to talk for a different reason.

Cw: Reader is yuu, obvious self harm but no depictions of doing the action, i made up a backstory for Trein so yeah just saying, Lucius trying to help :)), i write on my phone so the layout may be odd. Trein may be ooc :(

Word count: 1300! woah!!

He noticed them your first day in class, still without a uniform. There were old scars on your forearm, and when your short sleeves rolled up the slightest bit, he saw fresh scabbed lines dotting your skin. Like you'd done them before getting hit. He felt saddened seeing one of his students with those all too familiar scars. His fingers unconsciously slipped to his wrinkling left wrist– there, was a particularly bright scar left. Even after all these years. It never left him. Lucius had taken interest in his moving and shifted, moving his head closer to Trein's hand– wanting pets. Trein obliged while greeting his students. Making a mental note to speak with you later.

Much to his luck, Adeuce and Grim started being rambunctious. He watched as you tried your hardest to stop them so they wouldnt get in trouble but it was always in vain. "You four." The three stop immediately after hearing that. "I will see you all after class." He hears giggles from around the room. And sees three of the four sulking. The other one just sits there, he cant tell their emotion. Sullen? Angry maybe? no. None of them. They just stared blankly at their lap. He was skeptical.

After class he spoke with the trio about their reckless behavior, before dismissing them. You starts to get up as well before– "Prefect. I'd like to talk to you about something else." You looked startled, but sat back down, waving to your friend's. "Yes sir?" you ask cautiously, your curiosity peaked. "Ive noticed your.. scars." You stiffened in your seat. "Now before I say anything else. It is not a problem and I am not asking you to hide them. I have just made an observation and wanted to say something about it.", Trein started petting Lucius and thinking of how to phrase his next sentence. "I am also not asking you to stop for anyone's sake. It is your business and yours alone and I am not asking why you do it either." He says, then continues– "But I will say. If you need someone to talk to. I am here young one. I am very well versed in this subject. Being a teenager once and also having daughters will make you so.." He chuckles despite the situation. "All I mean to say is, I am here and will always have an ear open for you. It must be especially hard on you being in a new world. My office is always open dear."

The pet name makes you tear up slightly, and then without your consent– tears begin to fall. Trein is shocked but will not push you away for this. "What is wrong my dear?" He asks softly, hoping he's not over stepping any boundaries. "I just" you exhale a breath. "M-Miss my home. I didn't have the super awesome life but.. I still miss it.." You mumble the end before saying– "I had a pet back home. I cant help but think their wondering where I am.. I miss them so much Mr. Trein.." More tears fall but you feel a weight on your open lap. Lucius is there, looking up at you solemnly, if possible for a cat. You wept some more, just thinking of your animal hurts you more, and the addition of the fluffy animal on you isn't really helping.. "Lucius, pspsp come here" Trein calls him, sensing the feline isn't doing what he intended to do.

"Well I cannot say i understand how you feel, I can understand the feeling of missing a familiar," He begins a story– "Lucius once got out when he was a mere kitten, I was deeply worried about him. My daughters tried to help find him but he could not be found." He states glumly. "It wasn't until a six days later we found him. Under the shed we have in the back. Isn't that funny?" He hears you chuckle, it sounds genuine and he melts. "You know.. I once suffered with self harm as well." Your head shoots up, looking stunned. "Yes. It may be hard to believe but as I stated, I was a teenager once as well. We all have to suffer a similar problem sooner or later, and sometimes it just comes sooner than expected." He continues again– "And, apart from that, I have two daughters. Who were also teens at one point." He snickers, recalling some of his favorite memories quickly.

"Would you like to see something Prefect.?" he asks. You cock your head to the side and it reminds him of a puppy. He chuckles, then he starts to roll up his left sleeve some. Revealing some scars he had. "Most of these are actually from Lucius when its time for a bath but this one?" he points to a specific scar– "This was self inflicted. Self harm." You look up at him, eyebrows raised slightly. "My upbringing was.. not the nicest per-se." He sighs, "I was raised in a traditional home. My father would hit my mother and myself from time to time. Along with this, I wasn't allowed to be angry. So i have to rebel and let my emotions out somehow." He cringes, remembering these unpleasant memories. "I will not create a sob story of my childhood but I believe you understand the picture." You nod. "Now as a said before Prefect. I do not understand your specific situation, but I am able to understand your way of dealing with it, and if I may ask. I would like you to come to me anytime you need to talk to someone. I can help you understand these emotions and am willing to help you find another outlet for your feelings." You look at him, not shocked like he expects, but you look at him like he just laid out the whole world for you.

"I.." you cant even think of what to say. You keep looking at him and the ground. "T-Thank you Mr Trein, I– appreciate it. Like a lot.. Not even people back home offered that for me, I even had a therapist but they never helped me with my problems." He admitted to himself he did mostly do this out of curiosity, but he also admits it feels good to help a troubled teenager– it reminds him of what he never had. Lucius– who has been snug up in his lap, now rubbing against his chest, sensing a change. "You are very welcome Prefect.. You are dismissed." You start to get up but then pause. "This may be odd sir but.. can i get a hug? I haven't.. gotten one in a while." He smiles softly at you and pats Lucius, signaling him to get up. "But of course dear. It is not odd at all. You can come to me anytime you feel the need to." He gets up finally and meets you halfway around his desk. Pulling you into a protective hug. You sniffle a bit and wrap your arms around his torso tightly.

"Thank you so much Mr Trein. I appreciate this more this you could know." You put your chin on his chest and say, looking up at him lovingly. It remind him of his children when they were young. "You are very welcome dear." He says back, as you start to pull away, he wishes it would last a bit longer but he doesn't push. You grab your bag and start walking to the door and then "Dear?" you look back at him, hand of the doorknob when he says– "Please remember my offer." You nod your head and make your way out of the room.

He sighs and sits back down. Then he remembers–

He forgot to give you an excuse slip for your next class.

AN: Does anyone else wish the teachers weren't the teachers?? id love to see Trein as a housewarden with the two ugly stepsisters as his dorm members! lmao sorry all my writing so far have been to do with self harm uh.... i promise im working on something fluffier :((

Anyways, Trein is my father and i love him dearly <3

[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[misc-obeyme]

Due to everyone calling for Barbatos for help so often, he's learned to respond to every little noise he hears that may be directed to him. The obvious ones being someone calling his name or saying hey, etc. But some others would be more obscure, like when someone is talking to someone else, and they say something along the line of "get him to do it."" And Barbatos immediately knows that he is "him."

Okay, but imagine doing the pspspspsps to Barbatos as you would a cat. He's repond. He would. I would do this every day and night. All the time. That's it, that's the take

LOL I can just IMAGINE it.

Barbatos would absolutely respond, but it'd also be like, "MC, must you pspsps at me? Can you not use your words?"

Like he's gently complaining about it, but he's still gonna come right over to your side as soon as you do it.

I think of him as being very cat like anyway, so it'd be hard to resist the temptation to do that lol.

I also agree that he's hyper aware of people needing him and speaking about him. He's just on top of it, always ready to step in should his assistance be required!

Ah now I'm having visions of him sitting down next to MC, who proceeds to pet his head like a little cat because they can't help it. And that stoic demon purrs. I'd lose my whole mind. He'd probably blush profusely, but he also wouldn't stop.

I like to think of Barbatos as a tease, but it's equally fun to tease him lol.

[sodaneko]

✱ visiting the cat café with JJK men (pt. 1/?)

a/n: first time writing for JJK aaaa. i should have done this a whole lot sooner! happy to be taking those fine gentlemen out for a date at the cat café hehe. and with the current events in both manga & anime i think it's fair to say we deserve to have a bit of a slice of life delulul moment, right... （πーπ）

❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

“did you roll around in catnip before we got here or…” 

Gojo only grins at you before he starts a monologue, something about his natural musk that makes him irresistible to little meow meows, explaining how cats are attracted to cursed energy and how he has a limitless amount of it, yada yada yada…

you aren’t listening anymore, only feeling slightly jealous of how he’s swarmed by cats without any effort, like he didn’t have to go through the whole humbling process of getting to the floor and mumbling pspsps until your mouth is dry only for the cats to ignore you

every single cat in the café is practically begging for his attention and honestly, can you blame them 

the cats are in heaven. Gojo is in heaven. the staff is in heaven. 

a chonky white Persian cat is extra persistent and secures a spot on Gojo’s shoulder, chewing on his hair and that’s when you know you will be leaving this café either without your boyfriend or with a new cat

in the end Gojo simply ends up buying the cat café (oh to be stupid rich) and treats it as his own personal oasis from there on and you can’t even be mad because you get to see his beautiful bright smile whenever you head there together

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

at first, Nanami isn’t too eager when you suggest going to a cat café 

the thought of cat hair all over his sandwich doesn’t please him, but he can never resist your pleading eyes and from the reviews he read the food there is supposed to be excellent, so he reluctantly agrees

skeptical at first, he sits down with you, trying to study the menu when an extra curious cat jumps on the table, bumping their tiny head against his chin which makes Nanami frown

“aww, someone likes you”, you croon and try not to laugh at Nanami, hesitantly petting the cat in front of him which starts purring loudly

which attracts even more cats

suddenly you’re swarmed with them and Nanami is doing his very best to give each of them a fair share of his love, even loosening his tie a bit and sleeves rolled up

forget about the food, he’s on a mission now

Nanami will lie awake at night, wondering if owning a cat could fix at least a dozen of his problems (they’re all Gojo related)

❦ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

majestic Sukuna, King of Curses, allergic to cat hair 

oh, he’s trying. he’s fighting for his life, sitting on the floor and trying to pspsps the cats with four hands at once

but his sneezes are so earth shattering loud that it spooks the kitties and they gather everywhere but in his lap

except for that one deaf and blind cat that’s always drooling a little which happily lets Sukuna pick them up 

the King of Curses will look at you triumphantly, like see, I’ve made this peasant cat obey me, but his eyes are tearing too much to even make out the silhouette of you 

good for you because it gives you enough time to snap a good hundred photos of him cuddling with the cat, too stubborn to admit that they might be killing him softly

back home (and after stopping by a pharmacy for allergy pills) you’ll see a dozen tabs open in his browser (you taught him how to google), searching for “anti allergy cats”, “if i shave my cat will i stop sneezing”, “cat hair allergy why” and “why cats won’t obey me”

❦ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀

local tired lawyer man needs a fucking break 

you know how prone your man is to overworking himself, so you make it your own little mission to take him out on small dates during his lunch break 

he doesn’t even bat an eye when you suggest a cat café. maybe if he’s surrounded by cats he won’t have to think about the injustice of the whole world, so sure, he’s in

Higuruma feels a sense of calm wash over him the moment he sits down and a kitty rubs their head against his legs, ready to activate their cursed purring technique on him

of course he remembers your favorite drink and orders it for you, something sweet to go along with it as well, and then he’s completely absorbed by the various cats in the café

he’ll point out every kitty that catches his attention and takes lots of photos of them and from you (and he’ll make it his new lockscreen)

kisses you goodbye once you drop him off at the office again and will text you later that he had the most fun in a long time

will also send you the most candid photos he took of you and will smile to himself when you make one your new profile photo, already excited to go back to the cat café with you

[sentientgolfball]

I'd be Home With You

Continuing the Devotion universe with this sorta sequel! You don't need to read Devotion to understand the story, but if you're worried or just want some added context all you'd need to read is the final chapter. Also Swiss is referred to as Multi throughout most of the story as he has not chosen the name Swiss…yet. Also pspsp @thehypnone

Read here or on ao3

Pairing: Swissalps

Word Count: 19k

Tags: hurt/comfort, Mountain has depression and I apologize in advance, eventual happy ending, one small mention of retching, brief violence

Summary: A new pack and Dew's elemental transition have cast a cloud of dread over Mountain's mind. He tries to remain the pack's perfect provider, but when the earth crumbles the one to fill the cracks is the last person he would have considered.

Or

How Mountain and Swiss fell in love.

Navy blue dappled with sparkles of silver slowly melt away into a soft orange. That soft orange turns into an even yellow before finally giving way to bright blue. Mountain watches each transformation the sky goes through. His head is leaning against his soft downy pillow and his blanket is up to his chin, yet his eyes are wide open. They have been for nearly the entire night. 

Sleep is not something that has been finding him recently. Not since he heard Dew’s screams and smelled the scent of burning flesh. Really it goes back further than that though. His mind has not been grounded ever since Dew first told him and Aether of his plan to become a fire ghoul. That was months ago. Long before the actual ritual. Long before their den was filled with new ghouls of various elements. 

 Mountain sighs. Even though he is beyond exhausted, he throws his blanket off him. He needs to get up. Laying in bed while the sun creeps higher and higher in the sky will do him no good. Though he is not sure how much better it will be to go out into the world with a mask of calm. But someone has to make breakfast. He has to make sure his pack is fed. Because if he will not, then who?

He swings his legs over the side of his bed, hooves clacking when they make contact with the hardwood floor. He stands, making his way to the bathroom. Each potted plant he passes leans in his direction before snapping back into place once he is out of range, as if the leaves and the vines were reaching out to him. He flicks on the light with a claw tipped finger. He takes a moment to just stare at his reflection. Dark circles have formed under his eyes, deep purple against forest green. His hair is getting longer. He does not remember the last time he trimmed it. His fur does not look as shiny as it used to. He barely recognizes himself anymore. 

He tries not to dwell on it. He has more important things to do than worry about his physical appearance. He has a pack that needs to be taken care of. 

He turns on the faucet, letting the water heat to a comfortable temperature. Once warm enough, he cups his hands. He lets it pool in his palms until it spills over before leaning down so he can splash the water in his face. He repeats the process a few more times. Until he deems himself awake and present enough. This has become a daily ritual for him. He used to have enough time to wake up and shower before getting breakfast made for the pack, but with each sunrise he finds himself laying in bed longer and longer. He cannot shower if he wants to have food ready at the same time he always has. So a few splashes of water and maybe some soap, if he remembers, will have to do. 

He lifts his head, making eye contact with his reflection once more as water drips from the fur on his face. He does not stare this time though. Instead he grabs a hand towel and dries himself. When his fur is only a little damp, he tosses the towel in his laundry basket. He takes a deep breath, tilting his head up to the ceiling. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment, searching for his center. Searching for the strength to face the day like everything is normal. He exhales, shoulders falling. He grabs his hearing aids from the corner of the counter, puts them in and walks out of the door. 

His plants reach for him again as he goes, but he does not stop. If he stops now he may not make it out. He walks down the hall, trying to steer his thoughts in the direction of breakfast. French toast sounds good. He brought in a fresh harvest of berries the other day, so he could add strawberries and blueberries to it. Though he is not sure if there is cinnamon in the kitchen. He will just have to see how many ingredients they have. 

As Mountain passes by Dew’s door, his even steps falter. His eyes glance to the handle. He knows Dew is awake. Even before the fire, he was always an early riser. But ever since the ritual, he has woken up the moment the first rays of the sun shine through the dark. Just like every other fire ghoul in the Ministry, called to consciousness by Her energy. 

A part of him wants to twist the handle, see if it is locked. See if he can get in and join Dew for whatever little morning routine he has now, even if it is just laying in bed. Mountain does not think he would mind missing breakfast if it meant hours alone with his Dewdrop. 

But then the cold fog of guilt comes creeping in. He has not entered Dew’s room without explicit invitation since that fight six months ago. When he uttered the words he so desperately wished he could take back. So Mountain just sighs and keeps walking. He will not invade Dew’s space. Especially not first thing in the morning when he has no idea what kind of pain day it is. 

When Mountain rounds the corner to the common room, he is surprised to see Multi sitting at one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. Well, he is not surprised it is Multi, he seems to always be the first up beside Mountain himself. He is simply startled to see anyone else yet. Usually he at least has breakfast started before anyone wanders in. He must have stayed in bed for too long. He will be sure to get up extra early tomorrow to make up for it. 

Multi is humming to himself, tail and legs swaying to the rhythm in his head. Mountain is not exactly a silent creature, but he makes sure his hoof falls are extra heavy so as not to startle him. When that clack clack clack reaches his ears, Multi spins around on his stool and flashes Mountain a fang filled smile. 

“Morning,” his voice is still raspy from disuse. He must have only just woken up. 

“Good morning.” Mountain returns the smile. If he shows no signs of the weight of his exhaustion then perhaps Multi will not question his tardiness. 

“Ya know when I didn’t see you right away I was worried I’d have to figure out food on my own,” He teases, “but hey there’s nothing wrong with a few extra hours.”

Of course. 

Mountain steps fully into the kitchen and opens the top cabinets to look for ingredients, “Yeah. Long day in the greenhouse. Guess I was more tired than I thought.” He keeps his voice light. Easy. Just two ghouls having a conversation. 

He is genuinely glad it is only Multi out here though. He does make it easier. Mountain has probably spent the most amount of time with him versus the other new summons. He always seems so eager to learn so Mountain has been happy to teach. Cooking lessons, an hour or two in the greenhouse to test his earth magick, technology questions. Multi seems to default to him whenever anything new catches his interest. Mountain is thankful for it. It keeps his head clear. As a result, Multi has become familiar. Easy. 

Once Mountain is sure they have all the dry ingredients he floats around the kitchen, grabbing the bowls, cups, and utensils he will need. He can feel Multi’s eyes on him the entire time. He can feel the question burning the tip of his tongue. He is always like this. Always hesitant to actually ask, but once the door opens he never seems to stop. 

“Have I shown you how to make French toast before?” Mountain turns to look at him. 

Multi shakes head causing the golden cuffs adoring his locs to jingle, “Nope.” 

“Come here then.” He smiles softly. 

Multi is quick to hop off the barstool and around the counter into the kitchen. His tag wags happily behind him as he comes to stand beside Mountain. 

“It’s a pretty simple recipe. Kind of like pancakes.” 

“So I’m gonna drop shit on the floor?” 

“I’d like to believe your flipping skills have improved since then.” 

“Only cause I have such a great teacher.” Multi bumps his hip against Mountain’s. 

Mountain simply hums, the smile on his face growing ever so slightly. Multi really has become familiar. An integral part of his morning routine. Rather than drinking caffeinated tea in a futile attempt to wake his brain up, he has Multi’s shining grin to pull his mind from the shadows. It is nice. Especially since he seems to see his original pack less and less with each day. Aether back to working in the infirmary. Dew dealing with his health after the change and his ever growing closeness with Rain. Ifrit and Zephyr doing whatever it is retired ghouls do. 

But Multi is here. Solid and present. He is still so new in comparison, yet Mountain feels content with him. 

“Okay mister chef, how do we make this toast?” Multi eyes the dry ingredients sitting next to the mixing bowl. 

“Grab the milk and three eggs for me?” 

Multi pads over to the fridge, slinging it open with enough force to make a handful of bottles on the door shelf cling together. He pulls out the glass that contains the milk fresh from Ministry livestock. He sets it on the nearest counter before grabbing out three eggs. 

He holds them to his chest like is scared he will drop them otherwise, “Now what?” 

“Go ahead and measure out the dry ingredients.” Mountain chuckles and takes the eggs from him. 

Multi nods and smiles at him before picking up the measuring cups. Mountain tells him how much they will need for each ingredient. Multi is very careful to not spill anything, brow furrowed in concentration as he scoops up flour and sugar and cinnamon. 

Cinnamon. 

Such a strong scent. It had burnt his nose the first time he walked into Dew’s infirmary room. It was so intense. Nothing like Ifrit or Alpha. Sharp and spicy. But still so sweet. A perfect contrast to the bandaged body that laid unconscious under white sheets. 

“How much is a pinch?” Multi holds the container of salt, turning it around in his hands as he examines it. 

Mountain blinks, eyes refocusing as his mind comes back to reality, “What?” 

“You said I needed a pinch of salt. I have no idea what kind of measurement that is.” 

“Right. Yes. It’s uh it’s exactly what it sounds like. Just pinch your fingers in the salt and throw whatever you get into the mix.” 

Multi shrugs, “Whatever you say. What’s next?” 

“Uh milk. We need the milk. Just a cup.” 

Instead of turning to grab the glass container, Multi turns towards Mountain, “You alright? Your inflection sounds weird.” 

He shakes his head and forces a smile onto his face, “I’m fine. Just tired.” 

“Ya know I’m sure I could figure out a decent breakfast if you wanna start sleepin in more.” 

He probably could. Mountain has been giving him cooking lessons nearly everyday. But then what else does he have? If he cannot be the one to provide for his pack then why get out of bed in the morning? He knows Multi is just trying to be helpful. Show his care for Mountain. But he does not understand how badly he needs this. 

“It’s no problem really.” Mountain assures him. 

Multi looks at him like he does not quite believe him, “Well if it ever does become a problem tell me. I’d like to help.” 

Mountain only hums, acknowledging his words but putting an end to this conversation. He slides closer to Multi, “Here let me mix the batter.” 

Multis gives Mountain a lingering look, but scoots off to the side. Though he does not go far. He stays close enough that Mountain’s arm brushes against his each time he grabs one of the cups with the ingredients. Mountain does not mind. It is better than having him continue to insist he take a break. 

He lets Multi watch for a little, just long enough to see how he slowly whisks everything in. When he gets to the last cup he tilts his head towards the stove, “Heat up a pan and grab the bread.” 

He gives Mountain’s arm a squeeze and nods. He crouches down to dig around in the cabinet next to the oven, searching for the same pan they use for pancakes. He makes a little ah ha noise when he finds it. The sound of metal clanging against metal briefly fills the room as he wrestles it out from under the pots. While he does that, Mountain lifts the whisk to watch the batter fall off, testing the thickness. 

Multi stands back up, pan in hand. He swipes the cabinet door closed with his tail as he sets it down on one of the burners. The stove turns on with a click as he turns the dial to a nice medium heat. 

“Remember to—“

“To butter the pan,” Multi smiles at him, “Don’t worry. I got it. I learned my lesson after last time.” 

Last time had Multi scrubbing egg off the pan for the better half of an hour. Mountain was just proud that he did not let anything burn even when it got stuck. 

Mountain lifts the whisk again, giving a satisfied hum. He pulls the bread from the breadbox and grabs the container of butter from the fridge for Multi. He holds it out for him and their hands brush when he grabs it. Mountain then grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer for him. He watches Multi scoop up a little more than probably necessary and plop it onto the pan. The sound of sizzling fills the kitchen and Mountain has to fight to keep his face even. 

Like water getting burnt away into nothing. 

Oh how he wishes he could reach up and rip his hearing aids out so he does not have to listen. 

“Now what?” Multi’s tail begins to wag again. The tip of it brushes against Mountain’s calf with each flick. Mountain’s own tail instinctively reaches out to twine together with his. 

“Now we soak the bread in the mixture. Just two at a time. The pan isn’t big enough for more than that.” Mountain pulls the bowl closer to the stovetop. 

They stare at each other. Neither of them move. Multi then looks between Mountain and the bowl, a look of realization lighting up his face, “You want me to do it?” 

Mountain smiles, “Have to learn somehow.” 

Multi gives him a fang filled grin and grabs two bread slices. He plops them into the mixture with more force than necessary. He pokes them with the tips of his claws, making sure every part of the bread is submerged. Mountain does not have the heart to tell him that he definitely does not need to do that. The look of joy on his face warms his heart. If he can make his packmate happy, then he supposes a few soggy pieces of French toast are fine. He will eat those if he has to. As long as Multi’s eyes continue to sparkle. 

When he deems the bread squishy enough, Multi picks them as carefully as he can. Droplets of the mixture drip down his hand and onto the counter. Then onto the stovetop when he brings it over to the pan. As does this, a few fall into the burner. It makes a hissing noise as the mixture burns. 

Instead of charred sugar and milk, Mountain smells the sour rot of flesh. Acrid. Sickly-sweet. A scent he will never forget. He can hear Dew’s screams echoing in his head. The smell of burning fat and flesh filled the stone hallway like an invisible fog. His stomach churns like it did as he waited outside the ritual room. 

He cannot fight the gag that crawls up his throat. He is lucky he has not eaten anything yet today or it might have come up. His hands slam down heavily on the counter, keeping himself steady with the force his body bends into itself. Salvia fills his mouth and he squeezes his eyes shut as he focuses on pushing the feeling away. 

Burning. 

Dew is burning and he cannot do anything to stop it. 

Dew will die if he tries. 

Dew cannot die. 

Dew has to live. He has to. 

An arm thrown over his shoulders and a hand on his bicep pulls him from his mind. Amber and spice replaces the sour scent as Multi guides Mountain over to one of the barstools. He sits him down, but keeps a hand between his shoulder blades. 

“Mountain?” He asks with concern. 

He shakes his head, “‘M fine.” 

“I don’t think people who are fine do that. What happened?” 

What is he supposed to say? He had to stand guard at Dew’s ritual to make sure it did not get interrupted and now the slightest hint of something burning makes him want to puke? Multi does not need to know that. He does not need to be burdened with the weight Mountain carries. 

“Really I’m okay. Just need to eat something. Must’ve been more hungry than I thought.” 

Multi hums, not totally convinced but not willing to argue either. His hand runs slowly up and down Mountain’s back. Mountain appreciates the gesture. It is soothing. Grounding. Something for him to focus on so his mind cannot slip back. He finds himself leaning into it. 

They sit like that for a little before Mountain tries to stand up again. Though Multi is quick to stop him. 

“You keep your big ass in that chair.” 

“Multi it’s fine. I’m feeling better already.” 

“Nuhuh you’ve been actin weird all morning. Ass. Chair.” 

Multi applies more pressure between his shoulder blades before walking off. Mountain has half a mind to get up and just finish the cooking now that the ghoul almost as big as him is not hovering over him. But then he sees Multi pass the stove in favor of the fridge. He watches him open the door, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” He asks flatly. 

“You said you were hungry.” Multi pulls the container of blueberries from the fridge alongside one of the jars with chia seed yogurt. 

He grabs a bowl from one of the cabinets before scooping out a decently sized portion of the yogurt. He then dumps way too many blueberries on top before sticking the spoon in there and walking it over to Mountain. 

He just. Stares at him. Nobody else has ever made him food. Minus his summoning day when Dew and Aether tried to bake him a cake. But still. He is the one who provides. 

“Should I have picked the raspberries instead?” Multi teases, but there is a hint of genuine worry in his voice. 

Mountain shakes his head, “No this is. Fine. Thank you.” 

Multi hums, “Of course. Now I better see that thing scraped clean.” He points at him before going back to the stove. 

Mountain does not necessarily feel hungry, especially after that wave of nausea. But it would be rude to not eat what Multi gave him. So he picks at the blueberries that sit at the top while he watches Multi. 

He moves the pan back onto the burner with heat. He stands with his arms crossed and a spatula in hand, watching the bread toast. Waiting for the right moment to flip it. Mountain is reminded of the first time they made grilled cheese together. Eyes glued to the pan as if looking away would magically ruin it. He is always so careful in the kitchen. So attentive to everything. It is fun to watch, even if Mountain would prefer to bury himself in the earth until he feels normal again right about now. 

Multi finishes the first two slices of French toast, flipping them onto a plate with enough force Mountain is worried they will slide right off and onto the floor. Thankfully they do not. They land heavily on the porcelain with a light thunk. Multi smiles to himself before setting the plate down on the counter for Mountain to inspect. He throws the handful of blueberries he has into his mouth, wiping some of the excess juice on his pajama pants before pulling the plate closer. 

The toast is dark, the crust looking a little burnt. Mountain does not have a fork, so he cuts off a piece with the spoon from his yogurt. He pops it into his mouth and hums. Once past the initial crunch, the inside is. Very soggy. It definitely does not help his churning stomach. But he swallows it nonetheless. 

“Not bad. For the next two, try not to let them soak in the mixture as long.” Mountain pushes the plate back over to him so he has somewhere to put the rest as he makes them. 

“Don’t let them soak for too long, got it.” Multi grabs two more slices of bread and throws them into the bowl with the batter. 

The two sit in a comfortable silence while Multi continues to perfect his French toast making skills. He hums as he works, hips swaying with the rhythm. A rhythm Mountain knows. He is humming one of the songs Mountain showed him when he first came to the greenhouse. Some dad rock song that came over the little beat up radio kept in there by the older earth ghouls. Multi had instantly taken a liking to it, so after their work, he had shown him how to get it on his phone. 

Mountain starts to drum his fingers against the counter alongside Multi’s humming. Even though he is not looking at him, Mountain can see the way the corners of his mouth twitch up. It brings a smile to his own face, even if it is a weak one. 

“Didn’t know we had rehearsal this early in the morning,” an airy voice calls out. 

“Lus!” Multi exclaims, tail wagging. 

“Multi!” She laughs and takes a seat next to Mountain on one of the barstools. 

“Good morning,” he says softly, turning his head to look at her. 

“Morning Mounty.” She smiles brightly at him. 

“Breakfast will be ready soon, so you just sit there and look pretty.” Multi flips the next to two finished pieces onto the plate. 

Cumulus points between herself and Mountain, “Me or him?” 

He grins, “Both.” 

Mountain huffs a laugh, but he stands up from the barstool. He pushes what remains of his blueberries and yogurt towards Cumulus. He knows she will be happy to pick at it and finish it off for him. It also gives her something to snack on while she waits since Mountain was so late this morning. He walks back around the counter in the direction of the fridge. When he passes by Multi, he feels his tail wrap around his calf. Mountain stops and turns to look at him. 

He gives Mountain a look. One that screams at him to go sit back down. He appreciates the concern, he really does, but the rest of the pack is starting to wake. It is one thing when it is just him and Multi, but with Cumulus here too he cannot just sit around and do nothing while Multi finishes up. 

“It’s alright,” Mountain whispers to him, “I’m feeling better now that I ate.” 

It is not a total lie. Eating and watching Multi took his mind off that smell. The nausea has passed. He feels well enough to work. 

Multi does not look entirely convinced, but he does let Mountain go. He forces a smile onto his face to reassure him that everything is fine before walking to the fridge. He opens it up and grabs out the rest of the blueberries and the strawberries. They have an abundance of produce right now. Yesterday was a harvest day. Mountain and Biggs picked through every plant that was ready to give. The majority of their yield gets sent to the Ministry kitchen, but the ghouls are allowed to set aside enough for themselves. Once human and ghoul alike have been fed, the remainder is sold in the nearby town. It makes Mountain happy knowing his hands can feed so many people. 

He takes the two containers and sets them up over at the bar. Cumulus trills when they are placed in front of her. Mountain huffs in amusement, “Save enough for everyone.” 

She stabs a strawberry with one of her talons and pops it into her mouth, “They snooze they lose.” 

“Who’s losing?” A sleep raspy voice comes from the hallway. Cirrus steps in the common area, making her way over to Cumulus. She yawns and buries her face in her hair, shoulders rising as she breathes in her scent. 

“Nobody is losing anything love.” Cumulus affectionately reaches up to pat her arm. With her free hand, she sneaks another strawberry, humming with delight. 

Mountain turns away from them, busying himself with the dishes. He is so happy that those two have finally got used to being with a new pack. Cumulus is fun and sweet and has such a way with words. Cirrus is confident and puts so much of herself into the things she does. They really are great. But he cannot stand to look at them when they are together. Lords Below does it make him feel awful, but he just cannot. They remind him too much of what he had with Dew. Of what he lost. Of what he wants back more than anything. 

What he would not give to get that back. 

He jumps a little when he feels something brush against him, causing water to splash onto the counter. Multi’s tail has wrapped itself around Mountain’s. He looks over his shoulder at him, but all he sees is his back. He is still focused on the French toast. Mountain cannot tell if the touch is intentional or not. Either way, he appreciates it. He turns his attention back to the dishes, curling his tail so that they twine together. 

He rinses out the measuring cups, setting them off to the side to dry. He will have to do the rest when Multi is finished cooking and everyone has made a plate. Without anything more to do, he moves to stand next to him at the stove again. He is careful to not tug on their tangled tails. 

“Just about done. Makin the last couple of slices.” Multi presses the spatula down on a piece of toast. 

“They look good.” 

“I just hope they taste good.” 

“They will.” 

Multi smiles, flipping the toast over. When the bread finally cooks to an even brown, he scoops them up and puts them on the plate with the rest. There are enough for each ghoul to have two. Mountain picks the plate up and sets it down at the bar next to the strawberries and blueberries. Multi brings a stack of plates and utensils for the others to use. Cirrus makes a grumbling noise when Cumulus moves to start fixing herself a plate. 

“I’ll make a pot of coffee.” Mountain turns from them quickly. 

Cirrus mumbles something that sounds like a thank you, but it is muffled by Cumulus’ fluffy hair. 

Mountain steps over to the coffee machine, opening it up to put in a fresh filter and fill up the water. He opens the cabinet right above the machine, eyes scanning over the different flavors. He picks out the bag of dark chocolate grounds, Dew’s favorite. He is not sure whether or not the others will like it, but that does not stop him from scooping out enough to fill up the pot. 

While the machine boils the water, Mountain picks out a mug for Cirrus and Dew. Even though he is not here, Mountain knows he will want a cup. He has been drinking more caffeine ever since the ritual. 

“Would you make one for me too?” Cumulus asks. 

Mountain nods and hums, pulling another mug out. Before he closes the cabinet he looks at Multi. 

“Oh nah. I can’t stand that stuff. Tastes like hot bean water.” Multi wrinkles his nose as he fixes himself a plate. 

“That’s because you don’t know how to make it good,” Cumulus teases. 

“Taste is irrelevant.” Cirrus finally lifts her from Cumulus’ hair and takes the seat next to her. She does not make herself a plate yet, but she does pick from the strawberries on Cumulus’. 

Mountain brings the three mugs over just as the coffee machine clicks, signaling it is finished brewing. The noise makes his ear twitch. He picks up the pot, pouring the steaming liquid into each cup. The scent of dark chocolate and coffee wafts through the air. A pleasant smell, but similar to Multi, Mountain cannot get past the taste. 

With each mug filled, Mountain places the now half filled pot back on the machine. He grabs the milk from the fridge and pours it into Cumulus’ mug until the dark liquid turns into a lighter shade. He then adds just a sprinkle of sugar. He does not add anything to Cirrus’ cup. He picks both of them up, walking them over to where the two are sitting. Cirrus takes hers from his hand, not even blowing on it before taking her first sip. Cumulus hums her thanks when he sets hers down next to her plate. 

Mountain gently pats her shoulder before going back to the mug meant for Dew. He picks up the bag of sugar and begins to pour it into the cup as if it was milk or creamer. Too sweet to stomach. Just the way Dew likes it. 

As Mountain stirs the coffee, the scent of petrichor and sea salt breaks through the rich aroma. He looks up to see Rain shuffling in from the hallway. The muscles in Mountain’s jaw flexes as his stomach tightens. If Rain is out here by himself then Mountain was right to not go into Dew’s room earlier. 

“Morning little fishy,” Multi grins at him. 

Cumulus and Cirrus also greet him. 

“Good morning Rainy.” 

“Morning.” 

Rain just simply hums and nods. 

Even though it has been six months since his summoning, Rain is still quiet around the entire pack. He seems most comfortable with only one or two people around. Or Dew. If Dew is nearby then he looks as content as a cat in a sunbeam. If Rain came out to the kitchen without Dew then today must be bad. He normally tries to make an appearance first thing in the morning. His pain usually worsens through the day until Aether can coax him to sleep with a spark of quintessence. It has been getting better. Less flare ups. Lower doses. But there will always be days like this. 

Mountain wishes there was something he could do. When the pain would take hold of Dew for days, Mountain would run himself ragged creating herbal mixture to soothe him. None of them were ever enough. 

Rain makes his way over to Mountain, head ducked just enough that his hair covers most of his face. When he is close enough, Mountain presses the warm mug into his hands. Rain takes it without hesitation. This is not the first time they have done this dance and it definitely will not be the last. 

“He says he can’t eat,” Rain murmurs. 

“Is he okay?” A stupid question. Mountain knows the answer to that. But he needs to know if he has to go pull Aether from the infirmary or not. 

“We’re steaming up the bathroom right now. He wants to see if it helps.” Rain taps his claws against the porcelain of the mug. 

Mountain nods, “I’ll make him something light. His body needs something to burn.” 

Rain nods in acknowledgment and rests his elbows against the counter. He stares down into the mug. Mountain rests a large hand between his shoulder blades, “You need to eat too.” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Rain.” 

He sighs, hanging his head. He is still for a moment before pushing his hair out of his face. He turns to glare at Mountain, but does not say anything more. 

“I’ll make you a bagel,” his voice has a hint of finality in it. No room for an argument. Another step to their dance. 

Rain is too much like himself for his comfort. Like a distorted reflection. Rain is so much like how he was when Mountain was still fresh from the Pits. But the way he puts Dew before even his own needs is too similar to how Mountain is now. Maybe that is the reason Mountain has kept him so close compared to the others, even Multi. He cannot bring himself to focus on his own needs, so he makes sure every single one of Rain’s are met. Maybe if he keeps the weeds from sprouting in Rain’s heart then they will not take root in Mountain’s. 

He grabs the bag of bagels from one of the cabinets. He grabs out two, twisting the end of it shut once more. Mountain adjusts the toaster settings before popping the first one in. While it cooks, he goes to the fridge. He pulls out the cream cheese and a slice of raw salmon. The scent of warm bread wafts through the air as the bagel toasts. When it pops, Mountain instinctively jumps. He grabs the two halves, setting them on an empty plate before putting the other two in. He gives it a moment to cool before spreading the cream cheese and cutting it in half. A plain bagel for Dew. 

He goes through the same process for the other bagel, only this time adding the salmon for Rain. The conversations of the pack act as a pleasant background noise. They keep his mind from drifting to far away places. Once he cuts Rain’s bagel in half, he hands the plate to him. 

“Thank you.” Rain shifts the mug so he can grab both. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mountain shakes his head, “Just tell Dew I love him.” 

Rain stares at him for a moment. His lips twitch like he wants to say something but apparently he decides against it. He takes the food and Dew’s coffee and turns to leave. 

Mountain follows him with his eyes until he disappears down the hallway. He sighs and rinses off the knife he used to spread the cream cheese in the sink. He has had enough fun for one morning. He is more than ready to head to the greenhouse to get lost in his element until it is time for rehearsal. 

He turns the water off and dries his hands with a nearby rag. He begins to head to his room to get changed, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. He turns to see Multi smiling at him. 

“Any chance I could join you? I wanna work more on what you showed me last time.” 

“Of course. You’re always welcome.” Mountain says it before he can even think about it. Though he does not really need to think about it. Teaching Multi how to tap into his earth magick has become one of his favorite things. 

Multi beams when Mountain says yes. He pats him on the shoulder again, “I’ll go get ready then.” 

Mountain nods and they both walk off. He turns down the right side of the hallway while Multi turns down the left. As Mountain passes by Dew’s door again, he can hear voices. They are too muffled to make out what they are saying though. His hands twitch at his side as he glances at the doorknob. 

One day. One day he will be able to just walk right in like he used to. But today is not that day. 

He continues on to his room, closing the door softly behind him. He takes a moment to slump against the wood. His horns clack against the frame as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a deep sigh. He tries to ground himself. Tries to find his center again. A pair of shears to that unkempt garden. 

But then he groans, scrubs his face with his hands, and pushes off the door. He cannot linger. Multi is waiting for him. It is a good thing Multi is waiting. Otherwise he may have been tempted to throw away the shears and let nature reclaim the garden for good. 

He walks over to his closet, fingers petting against leaves and petals as he goes. He pulls out a sandy canvas button down and a pair of grey cargo pants. His go to for working in the greenhouse. It is rather helpful to have so many pockets. Well that is until Mountain forgets he put something in there and then drives himself crazy looking for it. But still. Helpful. 

He tosses his work clothes onto his bed before pulling his sleep shirt off and tossing it into his laundry basket. He does the same with his flannel pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He gets dressed quickly, tugging on his pants and then the button down before going into his bathroom. He stares at his reflection, playing with the ends of his hair. He really should cut it. But he is always either too tired or too busy. 

Sometime soon though, he tells himself the same thing everyday. 

He grabs a hair tie from the dish on his sink, pulling it back into a loose bun. Something simple just to keep it out of his face while he works. He keeps gaze away from the mirror as he turns and leaves the bathroom. He quickly waters his plants that need it before heading back into the hallway to go find Multi. That ever present nagging of guilt chews at his insides as he walks. Usually he likes to take his time with his plants, check in with each of them. See how they are doing. What they need. But because he woke up too late, he does not have the time. He never seems to have the time anymore. Just another reason to wake up extra early tomorrow. 

He spots Multi waiting where the hallway opens up to the common room. He shifts his weight back and forth on his feet, staring out of a nearby window with a small smile on his face. He looks happy. Content. It chases away that nagging. Shrinks the gaping hole. 

“Ready?” Mountain rumbles when he is close enough. 

He immediately turns around at the sound of his voice, small smile only growing wider, “Course I am. Oh wait. Here.” 

He shoves a brown paper bag into Mountain’s hands, “Made us lunch. It’s nothing crazy, just some pb and j but ya know. So we don’t starve out there.” 

“Oh. Thank you. If you were still hungry though, I could've made you something.” 

“I just said they were for later Mount,” he teases, “consider it my thanks for teaching me a new recipe this morning.” 

“Alright,” Mountain offers him a smile, “Well then if you’re ready we can head out.” 

“After you big guy.” He gestures to the door with one hand. 

Mountain heads toward the door. He waves his goodbye to Cirrus and Cumulus who are still sitting at the barstools. Before leaving, he pauses to grab his leather messenger bag that hangs on the coat rack. While he does that, Multi slips on his boots and crouches down to lace them. Mountain waits patiently for him, adjusting the strap of his bag so it is comfortable on his shoulder. When Multi stands again, he smiles at Mountain and laces their hands together. A touchy ghoul since the day he was summoned. 

Mountain gives his hand a light squeeze and opens the door. The sun is high in the sky, casting shining columns of light through the grand windows of the Ministry. Siblings and ghouls walk through the hallways, murmuring their good mornings as they pass the two on the way to their own duties for the day. Mountain simply nods with a smile while Multi greets every one of them. 

When they are not passing by the other inhabitants of the Ministry, they walk in a comfortable silence. Mountain is always reminded of Dewdrop when they walk together. Just like him, Multi can talk for hours on end but then be perfectly content without making a noise. Like some kind of switch has been flipped. Dew only gets silent around humans he does not know. It makes him wonder what causes Multi to go quiet. 

They eventually reach the door that connects the greenhouse to the Ministry. It is on a more remote side. Far from the chapel and the den. Mountain does not mind it though. There is something nice about being able to see the sun rising through the windows, painting the ancient stone architecture pink. Though it is not like he has seen it recently. Not with his habit of lingering under his sheets. 

“I swear that walk gets longer every single time,” Multi huffs with a smile. 

“Well you don’t have to make it if you don’t want to.” Mountain pushes the door open, holding it for Multi. 

He steps inside, “What? And miss out on quality dirt boy time?” 

Mountain hums a laugh and follows in after him. The moment his hooves make contact with the dirt floor he pauses. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, breathing in the musky, earthy scent. The tension in him seems to melt away as he is enveloped in his element. He scuffs his hooves, digging them deeper into the dirt. He can feel the hum of the earth. The vibration of life. It greets him warmly, arms wide open to welcome home. The temptation to take root is strong, but he cannot. He has work to do. Ghouls to look after. 

He opens his eyes and starts walking to his work bench, Multi tailing after him. He sets the paper bag with his lunch in it on the nearby shelf so it does not get in the way. He picks up his apron, unfolding it and shaking out some of the excess streaks of dirt from yesterday's work. It does not really do much. The material has long since stained. No amount of washing will ever get it all the way out. 

He puts it on, tying the strings comfortably around his waist. Multi has already grabbed one of the spares that hang on the wall by the sink. He crosses the strings behind his back before bringing them to the front to tie. Once that is situated, Mountain pulls out a pair of gloves and tosses them to Multi. Mountain never uses them. He prefers to feel everything that is around him. Sometimes he ends the day by picking thorns from his palms, but it is worth knowing that the roses wanted more sunlight. 

Multi slips the gloves onto his hands, flexing his fingers as he walks back over to Mountain, “So what’s the plan?” 

“Harvest the vegetables.” Mountain hands him a basket. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Thought you said yesterday was harvest day?” 

“It was. Biggs and I picked all the berries, but there’s a lot more that still needs to be done.” 

“Riiight. So I just,” he makes a nonsensical gesture with his hands, “pull shit from the ground?” 

Mountain huffs a laugh, “More or less. I’ll show you.” 

He leads Multi over to where the vegetable rows are. He figures starting with the tomatoes and peppers will be easier than the carrots or potatoes. He brings him to the towering vines, light reds and oranges peeking through the green foliage. Water droplets glisten off the flesh, making them shine. Mountain palms one of the larger tomatoes, giving it a light squeeze. The fruit gives a little before slowly bouncing back into shape. Definitely ready for harvest. 

He nods his head, motioning for Multi to come closer. He awkwardly shuffles over, shoulder pressing against Mountain’s as he looks down at the tomato in his hand. 

“You see how it’s a kind of pinky color?” Mountain asks in a hushed tone. It always feels right to keep his voice low on harvest days. 

“That’s orange. Maybe yellow.” Multi raises an eyebrow at him. 

Mountains chuckles, “It’s just a term. When they’re like this they’re called pink or blushing since they’re getting closer to red.”

“Uhhuh…”

“It means they’re ready to be picked.” He pinches the vines between thumb and forefinger as close as he can get to the tomato. He twists and pulls with expert force, pulling it free from the plant in one smooth motion. He places it in his own basket down by his hooves. 

Multi blinks at him before turning his attention to the plant Mountain pulled from. He grabs one of the tomatoes that have a similar color. He mimics Mountain, giving it a squeeze even though he is not quite sure what he is looking for. Mountain watches though, humming in approval. 

“That’s a good one,” he says gently, “be careful when you pull it. Try to get as close to the body as possible. We don’t want to hurt the vines.” 

Multi hesitates to pluck it from the plant. He tries to keep his normal face of confidence, but Mountain can tell by the flick of his ears that he is nervous. For what, he has no idea but Mountain does not care. He can take this as slow as he needs. 

Mountain reaches into the basket he handed Multi. He pulls out a pair of shears, “Here. It’ll be easier if you use these.” 

Multi takes them from him, turning them over in his hand, “Thanks. So where do I…?” 

He traces his claw at the perfect spot for Multi to cut, “You don’t want to take too much of the vine with you.” 

He nods and snips the shears in the same place Mountain pointed out. The leaves rustle as the tomato breaks free from the vine and it snaps back into place without the excess weight. Mountain pats him on the shoulder with a smile, “That was good.” 

Multi beams at the praise, shadows of his nerves melting away. He places it in the basket Mountain had handed to him, “That’s all there is to it?” 

Mountain hums and nods, “Yup. Well. Now that you know what you’re doing, how about you do these and I’ll take care of the peppers?” 

“You want me. To do it by myself?” 

Mountain nods again. 

“But what if I fuck something up? I don’t wanna ruin your plants.” 

“You won’t,” Mountain shrugs, “but if it really worries you, try to listen to them with your magick. They’ll tell you everything they need.” 

Multi still looks unconvinced, but he does not protest. Mountain quickly knocks their horns together before standing, grabbing his own basket, and heading over to the rows with the peppers. 

Normally Mountain would not dare let anyone who is not an earth ghoul near the produce. It is too important, feeds too many people, for him to feel comfortable with it. But he is confident in what Multi can do. He is keen on learning and understanding everything shown to him. His earth magick is already so much stronger than what it was six months ago. Mountain does not think there is anyone else he would rather have helping him. 

Well. 

Except one. 

Dew used to come out here to help. Back when they were both so new to it all. Back when Mountain was still finding his own footing as one of the greenhouse earth ghouls. Dew used to come out here to find him. Spend time with him. When Mountain got overwhelmed, he would be there to help him go through the rows to water everything. He always had such a gentle touch, hyper aware that Mountain had a connection to the plants. Like taking care of them somehow would make adjusting to the Topside easier on him. 

Mountain cannot remember the last time Dew came to the greenhouse. It was before the ritual that is for sure. He still gets a regular visitor in the form of Multi, but. He misses the scent of spring water and wet moss. 

He startles when he feels something slither around his pointer and ring fingers. He looks down to see one of the vines of the green pepper plant wrapping around him. He blinks at it before thumbing over the leaf. Gently. Soothingly. Guess that is his queue to get to work. 

His body works almost automatically at this point, pinching and pulling the peppers from their vines and placing them in his basket. He occasionally lifts his head to steal a glance at Multi. He is so focused, eyebrows pulled together in a little furrow. Far behind Mountain in the rows too, taking his time with each and every tomato. It makes Mountain smile, watching him be so careful with the plants he cares so deeply about. 

He always is. It makes Mountain wonder how his earth magick is barely present. It seems so natural to him. Though he supposes he knows nothing about multi ghouls. How their mix of all the elements works. That and Multi is mostly quint and fire. Probably means he lived somewhere without much green Down Below. But he could be wrong. Mountain does not know. Nobody does really. Multi has yet to utter a single word about his time in the Pits. He understands, it is not always a kind place. But it does make him wonder. 

The next time Mountain raises his head to glance at him, he catches Multi’s eye. Mountain immediately ducks his head again, staring at the group of peppers he is working on. 

“Caught you staring Mountain,” he teases, dragging out his name. 

“Not staring. I was just checking on you.” He has the urge to stomp on his tail to stop it from flicking. 

“More like checking me out,” Multi laughs. 

Mountain snuffles, pulling another pepper off its vine and into his basket. They are silent for a few moments before Multi speaks again. 

“But uh seriously now. Am I. Doin okay?” All the bravado gone from his voice. 

It amazes Mountain how quickly he switches between bold and confident to soft sincerity. And it makes his head spin just a bit. He thinks he knows who the real Multi is, but he is never quite sure. 

Mountain lifts head again to smile at him, “You’re doing just fine.” 

His eyes seem to light up again, corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin, “Just fine?” 

Mountain rolls his eyes, stepping over to the next row of peppers. They go back to working in a comfortable silence. The rustling of leaves as they harvest the produce is the only sound filling the space. Occasionally they can hear a bird chirp or some Siblings shouting from somewhere outside. The sun is at Her highest point now, bathing the greenhouse in Her rays. It is warm, but not unpleasantly so. At least, not yet anyway. Though Mountain starts to wish his winter coat would finish shedding. It is already late spring and he still has thick tufts all over his body. 

Multi’s hums begin to join in with the bird songs the longer they go. They are all nonsensical, not a single tune Mountain recognizes. Simply just whatever rhythm lives in his head. But then it slowly morphs into something he does know. Quite well actually. One of the Cardinal’s songs, Rats. The one they have been drilling over and over again in all of their recent rehearsals. 

Mountain’s tail starts to thump back and forth with the beat, instinctively keeping time even when he is not behind his kit. He bobs his head too as his mind fills in the lyrics. 

“Rats,” Multi mutters before sticking his head up to look at Mountain, “What the fuck is a rat anyways?” 

“Did you ever see a diabolus mus Down Below?” 

“Course. Fuckers were everywhere.” 

“Rats are like that. But a lot smaller and without all the spikes and fire.” 

“Huh. Gross.” 

Mountain huffs a laugh and steps around to the next row. They continue to work, conversation sparking up every so often. Mountain finishes harvesting all of the peppers before Multi is done with the tomatoes. He sets his baskets off to the side, grabbing an empty one to help him. By the time both of their baskets are full, they are sweaty and hungry. 

They each gather their harvest and bring it over to the largest workbench in the back corner of the greenhouse. Luckily they do not have to do the sorting, that job is reserved for Biggs. Instead, they wash their hands and shuffle back over to Mountain’s workbench where their lunches await. Mountain offers the stool for Multi, but he refuses. He insists Mountain sit at his own seat. After a never ending back and forth, Mountain relents and pulls the stool out. Multi grins happily and plops himself down on the nearby bags of soil. 

“Thank you again for making this,” Mountain says as he opens the paper bag. 

“Mount it’s a sandwich and two oranges. It’s not like I made you a five course meal,” Multi laughs. 

“And I appreciate it,” he says simply. 

Multi pulls one of his oranges from his bag, “Well I’m glad.” 

He stabs his claw into it with more force than necessary for peeling a fruit. Juice squirts out, dribbling down his arm and onto his pants. He hisses, shaking his hand and flinging stray droplets everywhere in a futile attempt to get the stickiness off of him. Mountain sets his still wrapped sandwich down, leaning forward and holding out his hand. He motions for Multi to give it to him. He does so, standing to go wash his hands once Mountain takes it. 

“Still not used to how soft everything is Topside,” he throws over his shoulder from the sink. 

Mountain hums in acknowledgment as he slides his own claw into the puncture Multi made. He gets the peel under tip before slowly turning the orange in his hand. The skin follows easily, peeling off in one perfect spiral. 

“How do you do that so good?” Multi cocks his with a smile as he walks back over. 

“Don’t know. Lots of practice I suppose.” He picks off some stray pieces of the peel before handing the now naked fruit back to Multi. 

He sinks his fangs into it, tearing half of the flesh off in one bite. Juice drips down his chin as a rumbly little purr kicks up in his chest. Mountain just smiles and begins to peel his own orange. He gathers all of the skin in a pile to dry later before picking out pieces of the fruit one at a time. 

Conversation carries easily between them as they finish their lunches. Mountain gathers their trash and tosses it away into one of the bins near the main entrance of the greenhouse. He rolls his shoulders as he walks back over to where Multi is sitting, stretching the stiff muscles and popping his joints. His tail wags as Mountain reappears. 

“Back to harvesting I presume?” Multi stands up, ready to grab another basket. 

Mountain hums, “No. figured we could work on your magick.” 

“Oh thank the Lords Below. My back was starting to kill me. Not that I didn’t enjoy it but well.” He shrugs and smiles. 

Mountain just goes back to his work bench, clearing off as much room as he possibly can, “Go on then.” 

Multi gives him a pat on the back before dashing off to the corner they keep his mini pots at. Mountain has been teaching him to feel the earth the way he does. Hear Her song. Her voice. If he can do that then the rest will come easily. He has been doing this by giving him some spare seeds. Something to grow all on his own so he can tune into the whispers of the plants. Progress has been slow, but still, Mountain can see him improving every single time they do this. 

He returns, four mini pots clutched to his chest and a blinding grin on his face. He sets them down carefully and looks at them with pride. Each of them has the smallest dot of green beginning to push through the dirt. 

“Which do you want to work with this time?” Mountain cannot help but trail his fingers over the lip of the terracotta, dipping his claw into the soil. Listening. 

“Sheryl.” 

“Sheryl?” 

“Yeah Sheryl.” Multi points to the pot marked mint. 

Mountain has no idea when he decided to give them names, but it makes him smile, “Sheryl it is.” 

He pulls the mint pot forward, setting it between the two of them. He gives it a quick once over with his own magick, making sure it is in the right condition before letting Multi practice. 

“Remember what I told you last time?” He nudges it closer to him.

Multi nods, voice suddenly quiet, “Listen for their voice because they’ll tell me what I need to do.” 

“Good,” he praises, “try helping her grow.”

His lips pull together in a thin line as he turns his attention from Mountain to the pot. He reaches forward and grabs it, bringing it close to him. He stares at it, thumb rubbing up and down the smooth terracotta. It feels like an eternity of Multi just staring at the plant. Mountain does not rush him though. The earth requires patience. 

Multi chews his lip, “How do you do it? Make them grow?” 

“I told you. Listen to them,” he speaks in a hushed tone. 

“But what does that mean Mount? They don’t have voices, all I can hear is sounds.” 

Mountain hums in thought, “You’ve used your quintessence to heal before yes?” 

He nods. 

“Well it’s like that,” Mountain grabs some stray seeds scattered on the workbench, “You have to connect yourself to them. Find the part of them that needs nurturing and pour yourself into it. You become the thing that gives them life. Give it to them with a gentle hand.” 

He squeezes his hand shut. His eyes seem to shine a beautiful green as the scent of pine and freshly churned dirt fills the air. When Mountain opens his hand again, a white carnation rests in his palm. Multi delicately picks it up, brushing his thumb through the petals before tucking it behind his ear. 

“I don’t think I can do that,” he admits. 

“You can.” 

He stares back down at the mint pot. Mountain can see the gears turning in his head, lip still pulled between his fang. He finally relents, taking a deep breath and bringing the pot close to his face. Multi closes his eyes, letting his fingers dip into the moist dirt. He begins mumbling to himself, but Mountain tries to tune it out. Whatever words he speaks now are not for him. They are meant for the earth. 

He can feel it when it happens, Multi’s earth element sparking to life. It smells herbaceous and sits thickly on his tongue. Mountain locks his eyes onto the ring sprout of the mint plant, watching for any signs of change. For a moment nothing happens. But then very slowly, the green begins to grow. The little sprig grows taller and taller as more leaves begin to shoot from the stem. Soon another branch pushes its way from the dirt. Then another and another. It is growing quickly. 

A little too quickly. 

“Multi.” Mountain calls his attention back. 

The moment he says his name, the growing stops. Multi cracks his eyes open, the normal black and white overtaken by a deep forest green as his earth still flows through him. 

“Did I fuck up?” 

“Well I wouldn’t say that.” Mountain motions with his head to look. 

He now completely opens his eyes to see the nearly fully grown mint plant. His expression immediately lifts, eyes shining as his lips pull up into a beaming smile. His tail starts to wag rapidly behind him, “I did that?” 

“I knew you could.” 

Multi laughs and raises his pot into the air, “I made a fucking plant grow! I actually did it!” 

Mountain laughs with him, but it quickly dies in his throat. That look in his eye. So much like Dewdrop. It teleports him back to the first time he came to help Mountain water the flowers. He looked so pleased that he was actually able to conjure a water bubble. He was so happy that he could actually help. 

A lifetime ago. 

“Mount?” 

He shakes his head, turning his eyes back to Multi with a hum. 

“You good? You spaced out there.” Multi raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes, sorry. I was just. Thinking about how we should move Sheryl to a bigger pot.” 

“Oh. Yeah I guess that makes sense. Have any laying around?” 

Mountain stands from his stool and walks over to the sink area. Usually they did have some extras, though with it being late in the season he is not quite sure if they will have anything bigger. And he just needed to get away. He liked Multi he really does and he is beyond proud of him, but that look. It just makes him hurt knowing Dew will probably never show him that look ever again. Multi does not deserve to have his happiness crushed because of Mountain. He cannot do that to another ghoul. 

He locates another pot after taking a moment to breathe. It is not that much bigger than the mint’s current one, but it will do for now. Until something else can be moved into the garden. He takes it back over to Multi who smiles when he sees him again. 

“Do you want me to do it or do you remember from last time?” Mountain sets it down between them. 

“Nah I got it. She’s mine, I should take care of her.” Multi looks at the soil selection on the workbench. 

Mountain waits to see if he remembers what kind best suits mint. His hand hovers over something that holds a lot of water and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

“Maybe a different one.” 

“Right right. I was just testing you.” Multi’s eyes scan over the selection again before landing on a good one this time. Though before he picks it up, he glances at Mountain. He nods and Multi grins. 

He opens the bag and begins to scoop dirt out with his bare hands. Mountain watches him for a little before that voice in the back of his head creeps in. Whispers to him. Makes his jaw clench so hard his teeth hurt. This is not fair to Multi. 

He stands abruptly, “While you work on that I’m going to finish harvesting. If you need help I’ll be in the potatoes.” 

“Oh. Uh. Yeah okay. I’ll come over when I’m done.” He barely gets the words out before Mountain has turned around in the direction of the vegetable rows. 

What is wrong with him? He is supposed to care for these ghouls and he cannot even look at Multi’s face without his chest aching. He needs to be better than this. 

Maybe some time alone in his element will clear his head. Let Her take it away from him. At least, that is what he begs for when he sinks his claws into the dirt to pull at the potatoes. 

Mountain gets about halfway through the rows when Multi joins him again. He does not say anything, neither of them do. Mountain is focused on each plant that he barely notices when he first approaches. The silence is not the same as before. It hangs in the air as they work side by side. It is not until the Ministry’s bell rings that Mountain realizes how much time has passed. 

He stands from where he was kneeling with a groan, brushing dirt off his apron. The sun is beginning to sink lower in the sky, not quite setting but enough to make the blue of the sky darker. When the bell stops ringing, Mountain cracks his back. It is time for rehearsal. 

He steps over to where Multi is crouched a few rows from his. He does not look up at him until Mountain extends his hand. He blinks, glancing between Mountain’s face and his hand before deciding to take it. He hauls him, patting him between the shoulder blades. 

“Thank you for your help today.” Mountain gives his hand a squeeze. 

The corner of Multi’s mouth twitches up into a smile. It only makes Mountain feel worse. 

“It was all my pleasure and I’ll happily do it again. Dirt boy.” 

Mountain offers him his best smile at the nickname. It does make a small part of him feel better though. It does not seem like he totally ruined Multi’s day. 

“Alright come on now,” Mountain tugs at his hand, “we can’t be late to rehearsal.” 

Multi waves his hand, “Ah what’s a few minutes, Cardi won’t care.” 

Despite his words, Multi does walk off with Mountain. The pair cleans up as best they can, washing their hands and putting their aprons back on the hooks. Mountain is definitely worse for wear, dirt smeared on the sleeves of his shirt and the bottom of his pants. It does not bother him though. He really only notices it when Multi points it out by trying to brush it off. 

Mountain does not let him fuss over it though, stepping away towards the main doors. Multi jogs after him, flicking his tail against Mountain’s when they are side by side. He hesitates for just a moment before flicking his in return, giving his permission. Multi immediately takes it, twining their tails together. 

The halls are much more alive than what they were this morning. Siblings and ghouls bustling through. Finishing their chores and heading back to their dorms to change for dinner. None of them greet the pair this time, too caught up in their own conversations. It does not bother Mountain though. He is happy to fade to the background as they make their way to the practice room. Multi still offers every one of them a wave or a smile. 

The journey to the rehearsal room is much shorter than the one they took this morning. The crowd thins as they get closer, as stone and marble turn to wood and metal. This part of the Ministry was added much later, a renovation when the Clergy first created the Ghost Project. Stuck at the back of the building so as not to break up the flow. A pair of metal doors painted black is the only thing separating the rest of the inhabitants from the work they do. The music they create. 

Mountain pushes those doors open, holding them so Multi can enter first. It is a stark contrast to the greenhouse. Bright fluorescent lighting and blasts of cold air. The floor is carpeted with a few odd stains dotted around. A mock stage, if it can even be called that, takes up most of the space. 

The Cardinal looks up from where he is talking to Cirrus and Cumulus. He smiles and waves at them. Mountain is a bit surprised to see they are not the first ones here. The Cardinal is a given, he is always punctual, but usually Mountain is the first ghoul to be present. He should have paid better attention to the time. Tomorrow, he can fix his schedule tomorrow. 

“Mountain, Multi! It is ehh good to see you!” the Cardinal greets as they step further into the room.  

“Cardi. Ladies.” Multi grins at them. He walks closer to them, opening his arms for a hug. Cumulus is quick to dodge him with an indignant squawk. 

“Don’t you dare touch me! You stink!” The feathers on her neck poof up, but there is a smile on her face. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. C’mooon Lussy c’mere!” Multi swipes at her, trying to wrap her in his arms. 

She laughs and jumps away again, “Absolutely not!” 

They stare at each other for a moment. Multi’s tail whips back and forth, like a cat who caught a glimpse of a bird in a window. Cumulus’ feathered tail splays out behind her. As if they could read each other’s minds, she darts off at the exact same moment he tries to pounce on her. Their laughter fills the practice room as he chases her around the space. 

The Cardinal watches them nervously, wringing his hands. Mountain can tell just by the look on his face that he does not know if he should stop them or not. He glances at Cirrus every so often, trying to gauge her reaction. She is watching them as well, eyes glued to Multi. The fact that she does not seem like she is going to intervene seems to keep him quiet. 

Mountain crosses the rest of the distance to stand with them, The Cardinal gives him a lopsided smile, “I hope the ehh planting was well for you today.” 

“We finished harvesting most of the vegetables,” Mountain says simply. He is still not quite sure how he feels about the Cardinal. He seems mousy but he acts high and mighty whenever the Clergy is around. A complete opposite of Terzo. Not that Mountain really got to know Terzo before he was dethroned. But he was the man who summoned him. By nature he has a loyalty to him. 

“Good good. Well ehh keep up the great work!” He nudges Mountain lightly on the arm. 

“Speaking of work…” Cirrus chimes in. Her hand darts out the next time Multi and Cumulus run past them, scruffing him by the back of the neck causing him to yelp. 

“…shouldn’t we get started?” 

“Aw come on Cir, we’re still missing like half of our damn band.” He tries in vain to wiggle free from her iron grip. 

“I would love to leoncina, but Multi does make a good point.” He toys with his fingers as he speaks. 

Rain, Aether, and Dew are the only ones missing. It makes Mountain’s stomach churn. He knows Dew is struggling today if his absence at breakfast is anything to go off of. This would not be the first time he has missed a rehearsal because of it, but the other two not being here. It makes him only think of the worst. What if Dew is being rushed to infirmary right now and Mountain is not there with him? What if he is already at the infirmary and Aether nor Omega can help him? 

What if? What if? What if? 

As if they could hear his thoughts, the door to the practice room swings open only a minute later. Aether enters first, a smile on his face despite the dark circles under his eyes. Rain follows in after him, expressionless as ever. To Mountain’s surprise, Dew brings up the rear. He looks small. Of course he is not the largest ghoul, but he always carries himself in a way that makes him seem bigger. But right now he is slouched over with his arms wrapped around his middle. There is a furrow between his brow and scowl on his face. Mountain does not know if it is from anger or pain. 

Both seems like a good guess though. 

“Ah there you are my ghouls!” Copia spreads his arms, gesturing with his hands. “I was wondering where—“ 

“Let’s just get started.” Dew grits out as he stomps over to the guitar rack. 

“Eh hehhhh right. Yes. Let’s.” The Cardinal deflates a little before shuffling over to the podium to get his papers in order. 

As the ghouls begin to get set up for rehearsal, Mountain makes his way over to Aether. He taps him on the shoulder, dragging his attention away from where he had begun to pull out his guitar. 

“What do ya need Mount?” He looks up at him, smile still on his face. 

“Is he okay?” He keeps his voice low so Dew will not hear him. 

Aether’s smile falters for only a moment before it is back, “It’s his joints. Rain brought him down just before rehearsal to get some quint. Couldn’t give him much though because he had a treatment yesterday. That’s why he looks so grumpy.” 

“Should he even be here then?” 

“Do you wanna tell him to go sit and do nothing?” 

Aether sighs, eyes dropping to the floor, “I tried Mount. Believe me I did. But he wouldn’t listen.” 

Of course he did not. Stubborn as always. More so now that fire courses through his veins. Dew will not rest until his body gives out on him. But it makes Mountain worry. He still needs to heal. He still needs to take it easy while he adjusts to his new element. So much could still happen to him. Delta did not succumb to the void right away after all. Nobody knows what lies in store for Dew. 

“I know. I believe you. I just want him to be okay.” 

“We all do.” Aether rests a hand on Mountain’s arm. He pulls him down and Mountain goes easily. Aether presses a quick kiss to his lips when their faces are level. 

“It’ll all work out sapling. Now go get ready so we can rock out.” Another kiss and then Aether pats his cheek before letting him go. 

Mountain bumps their horns together and then leaves him to go get ready. He tries to focus on Aether’s optimism. Take it at face value. But he knows him too well. It is not optimism. It is desperation. He could almost hear the it has to as he spoke to him. But if he can lie to himself, convince himself Aether really is confident everything will be okay, then maybe it will come true. Anything to get the pit inside of him to be filled. 

As he goes to his drum kit, he passes by Multi’s mock platform. He sits cross legged in the center with his guitar in his lap, tail swiping back and forth as he tunes. He pauses only to lift his head and wave at Mountain as he goes by. He waves back only with much less enthusiasm than Multi. It is like his body is running on autopilot as his gaze keeps finding its way across the room. To Dewdrop.

 He cannot hear him from here, but he can see the way his lips curl up in a snarl at something Rain says. Dew immediately hangs his head though. Should he go over there? Try to talk to him? Convince him to rest? But would Dew even care? If Aether could not get through to him, then Mountain certainly will not. Maybe in a different time, a different life, one where there is not a stain on their hearts. But not this one. 

“Hey Mountain!” Multi calls. 

He lifts his head and stares at him, eyes wide. 

“Pass me the tuner will you?” 

He nods and digs through the cabinet that is right behind his kit. All of the excess electronics are kept here. Spare mics, tuners, in ear monitors. Alongside Mountain’s spare sticks.

He grabs the little grey box and tosses it over to Multi. He beams brightly in return, chirping a loud thank you. Mountain is not even sure why he wants it. He is confident in saying Multi probably has perfect pitch. He has watched him during rehearsal enough times to guess as much. He is probably wrong though. All he has been is wrong lately. 

He grabs a monitor from the cabinet and a pair of sticks before sitting himself down behind his kit. He places his things onto the ground, freeing up his hands to stretch. He cracks his knuckles before sticking his arm out with his palm out and fingers pointing up. He wraps his other hand around his fingers and pulls back just until he feels the muscles in his wrist and forearm grow taut. He holds for a moment before repeating the stretch on the opposite hand. 

As he does this, the room becomes abuzz with disjointed notes. Plucks of strings and vocal warm ups and squeals of keys. Mountain soon joins in, tapping his way through his scales. 

“Alright my ghouls!” Copia speaks through his mic, “Let us pick up where we left off last time with ehh Dance.” 

Everyone gets into their places as Mountain puts in his monitor. He sets the metronome to the proper speed, tail flicking with each tick. He has each song memorized by heart at this point. A result of long hours spent practicing when his mind would wander too far in the dead of night. He could probably get by without the metronome at this point, but still he uses it. He has to make sure he is right on time so that the others can follow. 

“Mountain. Whenever you are ready.” The Cardinal gives him a nod. 

Mountain returns the gesture, tapping his hoof against the floor to find the beat. When he gets it, he shifts to press against the pedal of the bass drum. Dew’s guitar joins in two counts behind where it normally should. The notes sound shaky at first, like he is not quite pressing down on the strings hard enough. Mountain has to resist the urge to look at him. If he does he knows he will see pain etched onto his face, there is no other reason Dewdrop would not be perfect. It will throw his focus. He needs to stay focused so they can get through this rehearsal. 

Despite the unsteady beginning, the rest of the ghouls quickly find the rhythm. Aether and Rain join in at the proper counts as do Cirrus and Cumulus. The Cardinal stands center stage, watching all of them play as he nods his head to the beat. This is how they always start, with the song they finished with last time. One run without vocals to warm up and then another with Copia joining in. 

They have been working on Dance Macabre for a while now. Once they settled on their opener, the Cardinal insisted they move onto one of their closers. Something along the lines of starting strong and finishing stronger. 

They get through the first run fine. No hiccups minus a few wrong notes from Aether near the end. The Cardinal praises them, applauding as the room goes silent again. 

“Molto bene! Let’s ehh see if we can improve.” He points at Mountain, giving him the go ahead. 

They start again, only this time Copia’s voice joins the mix. He wanders the mock stage as he sings, going through the blocking he has in his head. He drifts a little too close to Dew though. Mountain can hear the faintest hiss catch on the microphone. He grits his teeth and slams his stick down on the cymbal with more force than really necessary. 

Get through rehearsal. Just get through rehearsal and then he can rest again. Stay focused. 

They wrap up Dance with no bumps this time. The Cardinal finally must feel satisfied with it because he does not have them run it again. Once again, praise falls from his lips when the last note rings through the air. He keeps babbling on as he shuffles over to the podium where all his papers are. He sifts through them, mumbling to himself as he decides what to do next. 

Without the music, the urge is too great to resist. Mountain glances over in Dew’s direction. He is looking down at his hand as he opens and closes his fist, flexing his fingers. Mountain can see the way they shake from his platform. Clearly he is not the only one who sees it too as Aether wanders over to Dew. Aether takes his hand in his, bringing it up to his lips. Mountain’s nose twitches at the pop of ozone in the air, gone just as quickly as it came. He watches as Dew’s shoulders sag ever so slightly in relief. 

All he can do is watch. That is all he can ever do. Watch. He longs to do more yet the claws of guilt keep him pinned in place. Dew would have every right to turn him away but Mountain fears if he does, the weeds will over take the garden. 

Thankfully though, before Mountain can contemplate any longer, the Cardinal pulls them back together. He decides they will work through the first three songs of the planned act one setlist. Mountain adjusts his metronome, grips his sticks, and waits for the Cardinal’s direction. 

It all goes fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Rain nearly tripping over a cord, Aether falling out of time, the Cardinal forgetting his own lyrics. But they still manage to work through their problem spots. Though during all of this, the room has gotten noticeably hotter. The temperature seems to spike every time Dew’s fingers slip from the fretboard. Mountain is used to being drenched in sweat during a good rehearsal though so he works through it. 

It all comes crashing down though. The Cardinal wanders too close to Mountain’s mock platform. A sharp squeal pierces his ears, feedback from the microphone and his hearing aids. It makes his heart pound in his chest. The sound of splintering wood replaces the snare and cymbals as he grips his sticks so hard they snap in two. 

Not this again. Please not this again. 

All he can see is the look of horror on Aether’s face as he pounds on Dew’s chest. All he can hear is the screeching heart monitor. All he can feel is fear of not knowing if this is it. If this is the end. 

It cannot be the end. It just cannot. He has to come back. He has to so Mountain can apologize to him. So he can love him again. He has to stay with them. He cannot survive without him. Dew cannot be dead. 

Dew is dead. 

Dew is dead. 

Dew is dead. 

Dew is—

“Mountain!” 

He jumps, head snapping up at the call of his name. All eyes are on him as he slowly looks around the room, getting his bearings. His eyes catch Dewdrop’s. Even his scowl is gone, replaced with concern. Mountain quickly averts his gaze. 

“Mountain? Cerbiatto, are you well?” It is the Cardinal’s voice that pulls him more and more into the present. 

“What?” 

“Are you well?” 

Not at all. He can still see the infirmary room when he closes his eyes. But the others do not need to know that. 

He shakes his head, “Yeah. I’m fine.” 

“Are you ehh sure?” The Cardinal glances down at the broken sticks he is still clutching. 

Mountain follows his gaze, blinking down at where the top half of them sits on the floor. He did not even realize. He quickly sets the bottom ends on his snare, being careful to shield his shaking hands as best he can. 

“Yes I’m sure. I guess I just got too into it.” 

“Yeah. You must have. Considering you didn’t respond to the Cardinal when he called for you.” Cirrus narrows her eyes and tilts her head. 

“I did.” 

“After the third time maybe.” 

He looks away from her too, opting to just stare at his broken sticks instead of anyone else. The silence hangs heavy in the air. So quiet he is painfully aware of his own deep breaths and beating heart. 

Finally it is broken by the Cardinal clearing his throat, “Well ehh I think we should call it there for today.” 

“Really I’m fine—“ 

“It is okay cerbiatto. You all worked very hard today and I am very proud of you. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.” He gives him a lopsided smile. 

They stare at each other for just a moment longer before Copia turns and saunters down the mock platform to the podium. Everyone else is hesitant, but as he begins to pack up his papers they start to move. Mountain stays glued to his seat though, staring at the splinters in his hand. 

“Should probably get Aeth to take em out.” Multi shuffles over to Mountain. He does not get close though, giving him any space he may need. 

Mountain swallows thickly, “Yeah. Probably.” 

His body feels like it moves on autopilot as he slowly stands and makes his way down to Aether. He is only vaguely aware of Multi following after him. Everything feels so fuzzy.

Aether crosses the rest of the distance between them, quickly meeting him, “Mount what happened up there?” 

“Broke my sticks.” He holds his splintered hand out to him. He takes it with a huffed laugh. 

“Well yes I saw that part. But why?” 

Mountain does not say anything. He does not need to. He knows the moment Aether touched his skin his quintessence told him everything Mountain is feeling right now. 

Aether just sighs and begins to examine where the splinter is, “We’re talking about this later.” 

Mountain opens his mouth but is caught off by a spark of quint coursing through his body. Something gentle and sweet yet wholly overwhelming. 

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine. I know you better than that mister Mountain ghoul.” Aether is able to pull it out with the tips of his claws as his quint soothes the pain. He kisses the spot where it was. 

“Okay?” He mumbles against his palm. 

Mountain hesitates before responding, “Okay.” 

Aether smiles, “Okay. You and me then. After dinner.” 

“After?” 

“I have to go back to the infirmary. It’s swamped right now. Siblings and their allergies.” He gives him an apologetic look, but he still smiles. He then stands up straighter and points past Mountain. 

“You. Make sure he doesn’t break anything else until I get back.” 

“As you wish.” Multi now steps closer to them. 

Mountain looks down at him before turning back towards Aether, “I’ll make your favorite tonight.” 

“Well then, now I have something to look forward to,” he kisses Mountain’s hand again, “I’ll see you soon sprout.” 

With that, Aether takes one last look at him and then over to where Dew and Rain are before heading out of the door. Before he even has time to dwell on the fact that he definitely ruined rehearsal, Multi’s hand slips into his with a squeeze. When Mountain looks at him, he just smiles. 

“Come on Mounty. We gotta shower before dinner, we stink.” 

He does not  say anything as he lets Multi lead him out of the practice room and into the hallway. He does not say anything the entire walk back to the den. He does not say anything when they enter through the ornate wooden doors to see Ifrit and Zephyr lounging together on the couch. He does not say anything as Multi pulls him to his room. 

All day he has told himself tomorrow will be different. He will fix everything tomorrow. But how can he do that now? After causing a scene at rehearsal? The way they all looked at him with pity and concern. Even Dewdrop despite being the one suffering the most right now. How could he do that? How could he let his pack catch even a glimpse of an unkempt garden when he is supposed to be taking care of it? He is supposed to be their foundation. He cannot crumble. He is not allowed to. Because if he does then what stops the others from falling into nothing? 

“Did you hear me?” Multi tilts his head. 

“Hm?” 

“I asked if you want me to stay. With you. Help you wash up.”

“No.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Multi looks like he wants to say more. Argue, push back and convince Mountain to let him stay. But he does not. He just nods and pulls him into a quick hug. Mountain’s limbs feel too heavy to reciprocate. 

“Just holler if you change your mind.” Multi pulls back, stares at him for a moment longer, and then slips out of Mountain’s door. 

Without anyone around to see, Mountain finally crumbles. He sinks to the floor next to his bed, forehead pressed to the cool wood. He digs his claws into his hair as the events of the day play over and over again. He wants to scream. His throat burns from the effort to hold back his cries. 

What would be the point? What would it solve? It would be nothing but a waste of the little  energy he has. Crying will not make Dew’s body stop aching. Crying will not repair their fractured relationship. Crying will not fill the chasm that exists at the core of his being. 

He has spent enough nights over the last six months with tears streaking down his cheeks to know it will do nothing. So when he feels the first drop slip out of the corner of his eye, he takes a deep, shaky breath and pushes himself up. He kneels there for just a moment longer, eyes closed as he wills himself to get a grip. 

He has to shower so he can go make dinner. He promised to make Aether’s favorite and that is exactly what he will do. With another sigh, he finally stands again. He shucks his shirt off as he walks to his bathroom, throwing it in the direction of his hamper. He can hear his plants rustling as he goes past them, desperately reaching for him. He ignores them in favor of undoing his pants and kicking them off. 

He does not even turn the light on when he enters his bathroom. He just sticks his hand behind the plastic curtain and turns the shower handle towards hot. While it warms up, he pulls his hair from the bun he put it in this morning. He does not bother with brushing it despite the way his claws catch in tangles. He just needs to be quick. He would not even be doing this if not for Multi walking him to his room. He would be able to tell Mountain did not actually shower. He does not need another awkward conversation. Not when he knows Aether will not let him out of the one he promised. 

He sticks his hand under the spray from the shower head. He deems it warm enough, stepping into the shower. He hangs his head under the water, letting his hair curtain his face in wet clumps as he watches the stream swirl down the drain. The heat does feel good on his muscles, sore from the harvest and rehearsal. But cannot stay. If he lingers for too long then the others may come knocking, especially after the scene he caused. 

So, he sits up straight and gets to work scrubbing himself clean. He lathers his eucalyptus shampoo into his hair, messaging it into his scalp. He does not give it time to set, immediately rinsing it out when he is satisfied with the amount of bubbles on his hands. He places the bottle back on its shelf before grabbing the one with his body wash. He forgoes the rag he normally uses, squirting some of soap into the palm of his hand. He rubs his fingers through his fur over the planes of his body, the scent of pine filling the air. It rinses as he works since he did not bother moving out of the warmth of the water. 

Quick and easy. A simple wash is all he needs to keep Multi, or anyone else, off his back. He flips the handle to turn the shower off and steps out. He grabs his last clean towel off the rack and pats himself dry. He steps back out into his bedroom, picking up his pajamas he discarded this morning and pulling them back on. His fur is still slightly damp, but he does not let it bother him. It will fully dry soon enough. The shower did help. Just a little. It at least gave him something else to focus on for a bit. 

Dinner will give him another distraction. As he steps out into the hallway, he mentally runs through the recipe for Aether’s favorite. A creamy mushroom soup. Repeating the list over and over drives the shadows in his mind away, only tinting the edges rather than consuming him whole. He rounds the corner into the common room to see the rest of the pack back. Some are still in their day clothes while others have already changed into their pajamas. 

Dew is one of them, dressed in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized purple hoodie. He sits on the couch, leaning heavily against Ifrit. He looks ready to pass out. Mountain has half a mind to suggest taking him back to his bed so he can sleep, but he holds his tongue. He has no room to give him advice after the things he said to him before that ritual. So he just goes into the kitchen instead. 

“Mount come lick this.” Multi does not look up from where he is cutting mushrooms. 

He stops dead in his tracks and just stares. Multi has his locs pulled back into a bun and the recipe binder out in front of him. Various ingredients are dotted throughout the kitchen, a bottle of olive oil, butter, discarded parts of an onion. A pot sits on the stove, steam rising off of it. 

“You. Started dinner,” Mountain says almost in disbelief. Like he cannot fathom the idea that someone else is cooking. 

“Course I did, now come lick this.” Multi’s tail flicks in the direction of the stove. 

Mountain still feels stunned as he walks over to the pot. He does not even know what to feel. Anger? No, that is not fair to Multi. Disappointment? Annoyance? He just does not know. The last task of the day he has to distract himself got taken. He knows Multi probably means it as a way to show he cares, take something from Mountain’s shoulders, but he is unaware of how desperately Mountain needs this. But what is he supposed to do? Kick him out of the kitchen and tell him to never do this again? What would be the point of that? 

So, he simply does what Multi asks. He picks up a nearby spoon, stirring the broth in the pot before bringing it up to his lips. He blows to cool it down as he tentatively puts it into his mouth. It is definitely missing most of its flavor, though he has only just gotten started. 

Mountain licks his lips as he sets the spoon down, “It. Could use just a little bit more pepper.” 

Multi finishes slicing the mushroom, scraping off the cutting board into the bowl with the rest. He grabs the pepper grinder and gives the top a twist over the broth. Flecks of black sit at the top before he takes the same spoon Mountain had and mixes it in. 

“Okay now try.” He scoops up some of the broth and hands the spoon over to Mountain. 

He lets the liquid wash over his tongue. It is warm as it goes down. “Better.” 

“I’ll take it.” Multi grins and grabs the bowl of mushrooms. He begins to scoop them out, tossing them into the broth by the handful. 

“Would you like me to help?” Mountain’s eyes stay glued to his hands. Watching as he works. 

“Sure! You can start by taking a seat.” 

“Excuse me?” 

When about half of the mushrooms are in the broth, Multi sets the bowl down and turns to look at Mountain, “You need to take a damn break. I’m worried for you Mounty.”

“I’m okay. Promise.” 

There is a flick of hesitation in his eyes before he speaks again, “Come on. This morning when you almost got sick? Snapping your sticks at rehearsal? I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot.” 

Mountain does not know what to say. What can he say? Keep insisting that he is fine? Multi clearly is not buying that anymore. But he is not exactly keen on the idea of spilling his guts in the middle of the kitchen. Especially when the whole pack is only a few feet away in the common room. It is bad enough Aether is going to make him sit with him, he does not need to throw it at Multi too. 

He opens and closes his mouth. The longer he goes without saying anything, the more Multi’s expression softens until eventually Mountain relents. He would rather not cause another scene. He takes a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until he plops himself down on one of the barstools. 

Multi smiles at him, “Just sit and enjoy the show.” 

But what other choice does he have? With dinner gone, he searches for something else to trim the unruly garden. Ears twitching as he listens to the pack’s chatter. Eyes focused on every movement Multi makes as he stirs the rest of the ingredients into the soup. Grasping onto every little thing he can to keep himself present. Reminding himself that tomorrow will be different, the mantra that has kept him going the entire day. He just has to hold on a little longer. 

He does not even realize he is picking at the skin around his claws until movement next to him makes him startle. He turns his head to see Zephyr now sitting next to him on the other barstool, cane leaning against the counter. They take one of his hands and lace their fingers together. 

“I heard you caused quite the ruckus at rehearsal today clover.” They rub their thumb over his knuckles. 

Mountain sighs, “Really nothing happened. I snapped a few sticks, it’s not like I’ve never done that before.” 

They hum, “And that’s it? It was only some stick snapping?” 

Of all the ghouls his little incident has to get back to it just has to be Zephyr. They’re too smart, too perceptive. If it were not for the feathers and that symbol on their chest, Mountain would be convinced they have quintessence in their veins with how well they can read a room. 

“Yes. That’s all it was. We were having a good run and I got too into it. Is that a problem?” He snaps out the last part, though when he hears himself he immediately regrets it. But he cannot help it. He is tired of everyone trying to break the dirt to search for something that is not there. He is fine. Everything is fine. He has just had a tough couple of weeks but it will work itself out. He does not need this prodding. 

Zephyr eyes Mountain for just a moment before replying, “No. No problem at all.” 

“Great,” Mountain says flatly. 

They do not say anything more, but they do keep their hands laced with Mountain’s. It just makes him feel worse for snapping. Luckily though, Multi calls from the kitchen. 

“It’s almost ready!” 

He drops Zephyr’s hand as he prepares to stand, “I’ll set the table then.” 

But before he can even put one hoof on the ground, a burst of heat passes him by. Dewdrop enters the kitchen, jaw set in either pain or determination. Mountain is not sure which. Dew glances over at him, a blinding blaze meets a dark forest as their eyes catch. 

“I’ve got it.” His voice is rusty in the way that is when he first wakes up. 

“Dew…” he breathes. 

He leans heavily against the counter as he stares at Mountain, waiting to see what he wants to say. 

What does he want to say? A lot. He wants to tell him to rest. He wants to usher him back to where he was with Ifrit. He wants to ask if he is feeling better. He just wants to talk to him. Hear his voice. Feel his warmth. Bask in his light. But doubt creeps into his mind as the guilt settles like a stone in his gut. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

When the silence stretches for too long Dew just pushes himself up and goes to the cabinet where the bowls are. His body screams at him to stand up and actually do something like he is supposed to do, but he does not even twitch. He sits paralyzed as he wrestles to free himself from the vines of that unkempt garden. As wrap around him and hold him still. 

Dew should not have to do this. He should be doing this. He needs to get a hold of himself and what he is supposed to do. 

“Why thank you little sprite.” Multis nods as he stirs the soup. 

Dew says nothing in response as he opens the cabinet door. His arms visibly shake as he reaches up for the first stack of bowls. He purses his lips as he gets a hold of them. He quickly pulls them out and sets them onto the countertop with a heavy thud, as if their weight is too much for him. He flexes his jaw as he reaches up again for the second stack, still trembling. As he lifts them, the faint sound of porcelain clinking together can be heard over the chatter of the pack. He pulls them out of the cabinet to put them down next to the first stack. But he does not make it that far. 

A shatter echoes through the kitchen as the bowls hit the ground. Shards of white go flying, cascading over the floor like cracked ice. 

All of the noise in the den stops. 

Everyone turns their attention to Dewdrop. 

Everything is still, frozen in place for only a moment. Then there is a flurry of movement as the pack jumps to see what happened. 

Multi turns the stove to a simmer before trying to step over to Dew, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain that now litters the floor. 

Cumulus peers over the back of the couch calling from the common room, asking if he is alright. 

Rain pushes off the loveseat to make his way into the kitchen. 

A loud beeping starts to blare as smoke curls from Dew’s nostrils and mouth with each heavy breath he takes. Cirrus quickly opens a window as Zephyr tries to funnel the smoke out. 

Dew balls his fists at his sides as the breeze flows through the room. He hisses and slams the cabinet door shut with a heavy thunk. Before anyone can reach him, he storms out of the kitchen. His steps are dotted with red, a trail of blood left in his wake from ignoring the shards. 

Heat rolls off him in waves as he stampedes away from Multi. Past Cumulus and Rain. Past Mountain. Past all of them so he can get to his bedroom. 

Like ice left out in the summer sun, the heat finally makes Mountain move. He jumps off his stool at the same time Dew slams his door shut. He immediately moves to follow him. 

“Rain.” Mountain does not even look back to see if he follows. He knows he will. And he cannot bear to take his eyes off where Dew disappeared down the hall. 

The white porcelain now stained red as it lay cracked and shattered in the floor acts as shears to the strangling vines. Dew is hurt. Really hurt. There may be a million things they need to say to each other, but if Dew is hurt then there is not a single thing in this world or the next that will stop Mountain from going to him. He would claw his way out of a landslide just to get to Dew when he needs someone. 

Now that Rain and Mountain are outside of his door, the smell of smoke is suffocating. The fire alarm still blares from the kitchen as they glance at each other. Something heavy crashes to the ground from inside. Mountain does not hesitate to throw the door open. 

It is dark inside yet they can see perfectly thanks to the orange glow emanating from the farthest corner of the room. The only thing they can hear now are Dew’s hiccuping sobs and pained snarls. Rain dashes past Mountain, heading straight for that orange light. 

Dew has squeezed himself in the space between his bed and the wall. He is curled in on himself, knees to his chest with his face hidden. Rain immediately drops down onto his knees to scoot closer to him. 

Dew’s head lifts slightly, just enough to see his eyes. They burn brightly, shining like embers being stoked to life. His brow is set in a hard scowl, but the look in them screams nothing but fear. Like a fox cornered in its den. 

Rain moves even closer with his hands outstretched, “Dewdrop. You’re bleeding. You have to let us see.” 

He only hisses sharply in return, growling as he presses himself closer to the wall. His tail whips across the floor in front of his feet, curling from his calf. His pupils are narrowed to slits. His ears pin back as Rain continues to inch forward. 

Mountain narrows his eyes at him. He has seen him like this once before. When he hurt so badly he could not get out of bed. He had missed rehearsal and tried to still practice on his own, but he could not even hold his guitar. That moment ended with a destroyed bedroom and scorched carpet. 

“Rain. Back away from him.” Mountain’s tail twitches behind him. Something is not right. He needs to get Rain away from Dew. At the very least he needs to put himself between them. 

“He needs help,” Rain snaps. 

“I’m aware. But just look at him. We can’t touch him like this.” He has to be glowing for a reason and if the heat of the room is any indication, then Rain really needs to move. 

But Rain just ignores him. He crawls forward on his knees again, only a few feet away from Dew now. He hisses again, baring his fangs as if he were a cat. 

“It’s okay Dew. We just want to help.” Rain reaches forward toward his bloody feet. 

A dull thud echoes through the room as Dew lunges at Rain, knocking him to the ground. His claws are extended as he rears back to swipe at his face. Rain flinches and brings his arms up to shield himself but before Dew can do much as twitch, Mountain rushes forward. He grabs Dew around the middle and yanks him off of Rain. 

He hisses as Dew struggles in his grasp, causing their skin to touch. He is burning. 

“Go get Multi! Now!” Mountains yells at Rain. Aether is not here. They need his quintessence. 

Rain sits up, shaking his head and blinking hard. He looks at where Mountain is restraining Dew for a second before jumping up and darting out of the room. 

Dew continues to wiggle in his hold, desperately trying to get away from him. He hisses and spits, whipping his tail against Mountain as he digs his claws into the meat of his forearms. Mountain grunts pressing him closer to his body despite the way Dew burns. He cannot let go. Not until he is himself again. If he lets go now, he will only hurt himself more. He could even hurt the others. 

Mountain has to stop him. He has to keep everyone safe. 

The heat makes it hard though. It is oppressive, like standing too close to an open flame. Sweat collects at his hairline. His shirt clings to his body. 

“Dewdrop,” he hisses when his claws finally break the skin on his arm, “stop. It’s only me. I’m trying to help.” 

Whatever states Dew is in, it does not seem like he can hear Mountain. He growls low in his throat before slamming his head back against Mountain’s nose. He cries out, instinctively dropping his hold to clutch at his face. Dew practically pushes off of him, knocking Mountain’s head against the wall. His ears begin to ring as stars dance across his vision. 

He blinks hard to clear the fuzzy edges. Everything feels like it is moving in slow motion as he watches Dew bolt for the door. His mind screams at him to move. To stop him. With a grunt, he grits his teeth and forces himself up. He has to protect everyone. 

He is unstable on his feet, nearly falling right back over once he is up. But he does not have to go far. The space is small and Mountain lives up to his name. He takes only two steps forward before his hand shoots out and grabs at Dew’s wrist to pull him back. 

He spins on his heel immediately, lips curling up in a snarl but all Mountain can hear is the sharp ringing. Sweat makes his fur feel heavy. His head pounds in time with his heart. His limbs do not move with the speed he needs. He is not able to react fast enough. 

Dew’s claws slash across Mountain’s face, hot blood splattering onto the floor. Mountain roars as he stumbles back, hand coming up to clutch as the oozing wound. Blood pools into his mouth from a slice on his lip as his vision is clouded with red.

 His back collides with the wall as he tries to get his bearings. He feels like he cannot breathe. What is left of his visions blurs and swims as the shape of Dewdrop breaks for the door again. He weakly tries to follow, but his knees buckle. 

So much blood. 

Too much blood. 

Hot. 

Too hot. 

He cannot think. He cannot move. He has to move. He has to. Someone has to get to Dew. He tries to crawl forward in the direction he thinks he went but he does not make it far. He screams at his body to keep going, but his muscles do not even twitch. 

He collapses fully, leaning his weight against the nearest solid object as black tinges the edges of the world. The only thing he registers before he closes his unscathed eye is an overwhelming scent of ozone, amber, and spice. 

He only opens his eye again when the sound of ringing fades away, replaced by the call of his name. He slowly looks up to see Multi crouching in front of him with his arms extended.

“Mountain? Can you hear me now?” 

He nods, but immediately regrets it as his skull pounds, “Did you…?” 

Multi returns the nod, “Got his mind back.”

“Where. Is he?” 

As if on queue, Mountain can hear the sound of retching echo from the open bathroom door. 

“Is he. Alright?” Mountain’s breath comes in heavy pants. 

“Is he alright? Mount I think there are other things to worry about right now.” 

It is only then that Mountain realizes Multi has his hands pressed against the wound on his face. He can still feel the warmth of blood as it trickles down his chin to drip stains into his shirt. 

“What the fuck happened?” Multi practically begs. 

“He. He didn’t mean it. Wasn’t himself. It’s the pain and the fire. He’s not used to it yet. He just needs someone to help him.” Mountain makes a half hearted attempt to push against Multi. To try and stand. 

“Help him?!  You can’t be fucking serious right now?” He does not budge. 

“Just let me—“ 

“Mountain stop.” 

“He needs someone to help him.” 

“So do you!” 

Mountain tries to find the strength to form a rebuttal, but he cannot. The adrenaline is fading. He is starting to become aware of the pain from the slash across his face. It stings as sweat drips from his hairline to mingle with the blood. Mountain slumps back again, horns clacking against the wood of Dew’s bed frame. 

He feels like the weight of the world has been placed on top of him, body buried under layers of rock and dirt. He closes his eye again as he feels Multi move on his own hands to his face. He uses the last of strength to hold it there, keeping pressure to the wound as Multi hooks his hands under Mountain’s armpits. He lets himself be hoisted to his feet, swaying like a tree in a windstorm. 

Multi steadys him, grunting with the effort of holding up most of Mountain’s weight. He takes a tentative step forward, trying to lead Mountain towards the door. He does not have it in him to fight it. Oh he wants to. He wants to pull away and go to the bathroom to make sure Dew did not get injured in the spat. But it takes all of his focus just to put one hoof in front of the other. He would fall flat on his face if he tried. 

“Come on. We’re gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna get you fixed and cleaned up and you’re gonna be okay.” 

Mountain barely resisters the words, head still pounding. A quiet ringing coming from his hearing aids. He keeps his head down as they pass the threshold and enter the hallway where the rest of the pack is gathered around. 

They try to talk to him, call his name. Ask what happened as Multi heads towards his room. But he ignores all of them. How could he face them? Answer them? He is their foundation, or at least he was supposed to be. How can he call himself that now? When he is being carried away as a bloody mess. The last of the light leaves his garden. All that remains is weeds and thorns. Everything he was is eroded away, crumbling into dust. 

How can he be their protector, their provider? 

How could he have failed so badly? 

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I was thinking about the Voice, and how much people outside of the Bene Gesserit actually know about how it works, and how much Chani understands about what's happening to her while she's being controlled by Jessica, and now we have fic. (pspsps more Paul x Chani here if you like this.)

Just imagine this is one of the times they come back to the sietch, some time before Paul drinks the Water of Life.

"What is the Voice?" she asks, trying to keep her tone casual.

They're sitting in her yali, both of them with their battle kit spread out on the floor around them, cleaning and repairing and restocking what's needed after weeks in the desert.

Usul has his own rooms, in a branch of the sietch near his mother, but there are always...hangers-on lingering outside, waiting to catch a glimpse of the Mahdi. Those people have learned by now that she won't hesitate to draw a knife on them if they come around here.

His gaze flicks up when she asks the question. But he doesn't ask where she heard about it, or why she's curious now.

"It's a Bene Gesserit skill," he says, eyes focused on the rip in his stillsuit he is mending. "A way to control people. Make them do what you want."

"So your mother can do it?"

"Yeah. She's a master at it."

"Is that what...all this is?" She gestures vaguely around her, to the corridors where increasing numbers of people keep wanting to bow to him.

"No." He gives a rueful smile. "That's just good old-fashioned propaganda. The Voice doesn't work on large groups of people. It's individual. Everyone has a specific pitch that reaches them."

He seems to know a lot about it. "Can you do it?" she asks.

For a moment he doesn't answer. Then he says, "Yes. Sometimes."

"Let's see it, then."

"What?" He looks up sharply this time.

"Go on, I'm curious," she says, leaning back on her hands. "Voice me."

"No." He has that little half-smile on his face, the one he gets when he's nervous or embarrassed about something.

"Why not?" she asks, because now that he's refused so flatly she is curious. He is usually so eager to share, to teach and learn. She's not sure why this is different.

"You'll hate it," he says, and now she has to make him do it, because she'll decide that for herself, thank you very much.

She goes straight for the argument she knows will convince him. "If it's a weapon, I should know how it works. Right?"

After a minute he sighs and says, "Yeah. All right."

He sets his stillsuit and the patch kit aside. Sits with his hands on his knees for a long moment, watching her with an unreadable expression. She holds his gaze, because she's used to other people finding him a little uncanny by now, but he's always seemed like just a person to her.

The longer she watches him, though, the more it feels like there's a charge building in the air around them, like the crackling feeling on the wind that tells you a sandstorm is coming before you can see it.

"I'm going to tell you to stand up," he says, his voice quiet and even.

"Okay. Can I resist?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "You can try." He exhales a long breath and lets his eyes drift closed.

She's ready to be indignant about that, but then he opens his eyes and says, "Stand."

His voice is hardly louder than a quiet conversation, but it reaches into her like a physical force. Her muscles simply move without her input. She is on her feet before the thought of resistance occurs to her.

The jarring feeling of foreign control is gone as instantly as it arose. She stares down at him, and the surge of sick horror in her gut must show on her face, because he winces.

"I told you," he says. He shifts uncomfortably, pulling his knees up to his chest, turning his face away.

Her heart is pounding, adrenaline flooding her bloodstream, like her body knows something hostile has been done to it. She forces herself to take deep, calming breaths. There is no danger here, just Usul sitting on the floor looking miserable next to her.

She makes herself sit back down, landing heavily on the low step up to the bed platform behind them.

"Have you been able to do that this whole time?"

"Kind of." He's still not looking at her. "It doesn't always work for me. It takes years of study to learn to use it the way my mother can, at any time on anyone."

She shivers at the thought.

"It was easier with you because I know you." His voice is low and guilty. "I knew the right pitch."

"How?"

He shrugs. "I can't really explain it, I just knew."

She realizes now that his hesitance hadn't been secrecy or false modesty, but fear.

She gets up off the ledge and moves over to sit down next to him, her shoulder bumping against his.

He turns toward her suddenly. "You know I would never...for real--"

"I know," she says. He's still searching her face urgently for reassurance. "I know that," she says again.

His hair has fallen in his face. She tucks an errant curl behind his ear. "I know you would never hurt me," she says. Even though, for the first time, she's convinced that he could.

[lowandlonesomelow]

•south park headcanons•

damien thorn

hi all. apologies for not posting these past few days. i have been unmotivated and sad. though, that is to be expected with me. {so - now and in the future, patience, please!} nevertheless, let us get on with this.

pspsps

•heavily aroace

sins that are committed very often tend to be sexual sins. therefore i believe damien wouldve been exposed to that sort of stuff and...honestly, these are just children. i dont think any young person would want to be around hell. infact, i think it was a traumatic place for damien. (hes just a child!) even if he tries to be edgy. think about it - people dying, (we saw that people in hell can die in whatever episode chris satan and sadam were in, i cant recall the title) being violent, doing what i'd imagine to be the worst sins possible. (i dont remember much of what hell in south park looked like. apologies if i am incorrect in anything.) and if damien saw sadam and satans relationship, i believe it would just ruin 'love' for damien. (...not that he was much interested already.) i believe 'romance' would only serve to be a reminder of hell for damien. however - i think damien would at first reject notions of 'love' as an act of defiance and rebellion against his father, but soon after find he was more comfortable in being aroace.

...also i find it quite humorous - the son of satan being against sex and love.

•short throughout his life/adulthood

...alright, let me preface this with; i believe damien lives on earth with his mother(s). and, i do not mean to make his mother(s) appear monstrous or 'horrible'. yes, neglect is a terrible thing, but really - who could blame them? having a child like damien, his father being satan...

i think his biological mother would not like damien very much. he reminds her too much of satan. {damien looks like an exact copy of his mother, just as a man.}, therefore i believe taking proper care of him, or spending time with him - any at all - would grieve her far too much. ...for that reason, she doesnt. of course she isnt a terrible human, she gives him his bare necessities and wouldnt starve him (not purposely), but 'bare necessities' are leaving leftover food she cooked for her and her wife on the stove for damien to go out and get when he got hungry. ...though, that typically amounts to one meal. if damien wanted to eat something more, he would have to make it himself. and-due to his fire thing, his mother doesnt let him use the stove or oven. thankfully he is content with burnt frozen food! though, that isnt all nutritious. at all. essentially, he never got the nutrients he needed to grow taller.

•does almost everything to impress people.

this isnt even much of a headcanon. we see it in the damien episode (? apologies if this is incorrect-i havent done a runthrough of the show in a while.) when damien lights pip on fire. damien did so to impress the other kids. to show them that he wasnt just his father. that he too could be cool. that he was worthy of having friends. i dont see him as much of an uppity person, i dont think he would genuinely manipulate people/his power to get things he wanted. primarily because; in my mind, he would see using his power as something far to similar as his father. he loves his father, but does not want to be like him. ...however, if he were to do so it would be merely to show off.

•really close with pip.

in my mind when damien started going to south park elementary, no children wanted to hang out with him. given, he was the son of satan, but... the other kids have done much worse than be the company of the prince of hell. though, due to damien seemingly acting uppity (to the other kids, at least.) and him trying hard to impress them, no one wanted a part of it. however - philip also had no friends. ...so, the only person damien could really hang out with was philip. i feel as though at first it was mainly philip trying to be friends with damien. but as time progressed damien-albeit reluctantly-started to enjoy philips company. the fire thing still happened obviously, so they werent the best of friends, and their relationship had many many flaws. damien did apologize for the firework thing. it was a terrible apology because hes still a little rascal but, he apologized! so... it was fine enough.

FIN.

////(kirst i beg of you write five sentences without using 'i think'.) ...as always thank you for reading! this is my worst work so, apologies for that. i am quickly running out of motivation and ideas. i know - three characters in and i do not know what else to write about! woe ist me. ... however, im not opposed to hearing suggestions from any of you people..

i lied! i beg of you, give me characters to write for. asks are very very much open and encouraged. character ideas, headcanons you have and may want me to touch on, and just about anything else you may think of. i might take some time to complete them, (as, when i write for characters i typically like to rewatch their media beforehand so i get as little wrong as possible. with this work - damien - i have not done that. which is partially why it is bad. though i figured it has been a few days and i am due for a new post, so i tried to get this out as soon as i could.) and i will not do them in any set order, but i will try my best to complete them.

remember! i reserve the right {ha ha.} to deny or reject any request, ask, or headcanon. please please do not get mad at me if i do not answer your ask, ship your ship, (though...i am a multishipper open to just about anythng. however-i try not to write about ships or character sexualities - with the exception of damien - due to them being sooo heavily controversial.) answer your ask in a badly written way, or take a long time to answer. i do my best, but we all have days which we are not motivated enough to do anything , and i get very sad {which leads to unmotivation} frequently.

please! even if you think it may be a stupid ask or headcanon that makes no sense, or if you think you may be bothering me by putting in multiple asks, i implore you to still do so if you wish. carpe diem. {can you tell ive watched dps recently.. hm..} ((putting this here as I know i personally am far too anxious to use anyone's asks.)) ha! no longer can i say ive 'never used anyone's asks'. i finally have gained the courage. one does not grow or learn unless they try.

[sentinelsthiccass]

Merged Mishap

Chapter 1: The Accident

---------------------------------------------

It came too quick, way too quick. Whatever the hell was happening with the ground, those spikes, and the train... it was a total wipeout.

D-16 got up and frantically looked around for the others. He managed to yank B-127 out of the ground and got Elita up... but where was Orion? He couldn't be far, could he? Did he wander off without them? Sounded like something he would do... but Orion also didn't like leaving friends behind, so maybe not.

D-16 looked around in a panic until he eventually found Orion. He was glad to have found him at first... but then his fuel tank dropped. What he saw... this couldn't be real, he refused to believe it, it just... couldn't be happening! But... it was.

Orion was impaled by a spike right through the spark. He was gone. Offline. Optics off and sparkbeat silent.

"No... nonononono... Pax..."

D-16 ran to his side and frantically shook him, desperate for him to be alive somehow, begging and pleading to Primus not to take him from him. Not his Pax, not now, not when they haven't even found the matrix yet, he knew how much this meant to him.

"Orion! Orion please, you can't go, not like this! Please, wake up!"

He choked out through tears. This was his worst nightmare. Elita went to him and yanked him away, knowing it was no use.

"Stop! Stop... it's no use. He's gone. Nothing can bring him back now..."

D-16 sighed. It hurt but... she was right. Nothing would bring him back. Elita then spoke again.

"Now, clearly, the surface is way too dangerous and we should get back to-"

"No."

D-16 stood up, a determined glint in his eye as he took their only lead for the matrix from Orion's now cooling frame. There was still a mission to complete that he knew Orion wanted him to keep going for without him.

"We're going to get that matrix. Orion wanted to find it and save our home more than anything. I'm not going to give up on this now that he's gone. We need to do this... I need to do this... for him."

"But with even less of us, it's even more dangerous out here! We can't stay here!"

B-127 shook his head.

"I'm with Dee on this one. It's the right thing to do, he was a friend and this was his wish!"

Elita groaned, but reluctantly agreed to keep going. She knew even she would not make it alone here and she knew B-127 would just follow D-16 and she'd be alone. So they continued on the journey.

---------------------------------------------

Orion woke up with a groan, looking around. Where was everyone? Why did he feel so weird? Like... floaty and light. Eh, it was probably nothing. He got up and started looking around. He soon found the others and ran up to them.

"Dee! Bee! Elita! Damn, I gotta come up with a nickname for her that matches the other two... Li? Does Li sound good Elita?"

He walked up to her as she walked. She didn't respond. Was she mad at him? She was probably mad at him...

"Hey, are you ignoring me because of the accident? I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen! Li? Elita?"

Orion then walks over to D-16 as he keeps walking. Surely, D-16 would listen to him, right?

"Dee, can you tell her to stop ignoring me? Dee? D-16? Oh, not you, too... I-"

As he went to grab his arm, his hand phased right through him. He froze in his tracks. He couldn't touch anyone...

"...what? Wait, what's going on? Why can't I-"

And then he caught a glimpse of his body.

"...is that me? Wait... am I dead?!"

Orion panicked. He couldn't leave D-16 like that! They needed each other! How could this happen? Maybe they shouldn't have gone to the surface after all...

"At least Dee is continuing on for me... but I can't go yet. I'm still going with him, even if he can't see me... I'll still have his back, some way, somehow..."

With that, his spirit kept following the others as they continued their journey

---------------------------------------------

Really short first chapter, but I had to get it started at least.

@shadowtigerlilly pspsps

[foulfeast]

Need to organize today but some thoughts on Bitchmare vs ou/tlast characters (first game with the assumption that they would be at mount massive)

Spacing for character names bc meh i dont wanny this in the main tags 😅

M I L E S U P S H U R / W A Y L O N P A R K

Realistically would literally be chill as fuck. The gameplay makes them out to be very avoidant, and at worst Bitchmare would come around sniffing them, and leave them be when they get no response. Park is much more lost & confused and Bitchmare might develop a strong care instinct, though.

However if I think about them as an enemy variant for funsies, one of them could be mistaken to show agression towards Puppy (their baby/wolfskull) and trigger the typical mama bear instinct: maul.

Cont under cut

G E N E R A L P A T I E N T S

Most likely to treat them like stray cats? Pspsps-ing them, feeding them. A lot of them would probably be scared. Honestly I don't think its out of realm of reality that if a patient was open to being cradled and cared for they would just start guarding that person. Mostly I think people would just run from the gangly slendermanlike figure crawling over furniature, though. Agressive ones would get put in time out. You can try to imagine what that is urself.

F A T H E R M A R T I N

Now this is actually really interesting since Bitchmare does have some Virgin Mary theming. If he had some previous info on Bitchmare & was open to pool their collective delusions, there could be something weird there. Bitchmare themself would probably treat him w some reverence too: he's calm, vunerable, he's bringing people together.. it's very possible that Bitchmare would straight up listen to him and fulfill his requests. They are headstrong, but they're just as lost as most of the patients. I don't think religion would be a draw for Bitchmare, EXCEPT if Martin was truly treating them as an immaculate mother, as it would validate them a lot. That they would lean into for shore.

T H E T W I N S

Oh my god i think instant baby. Big grotesque hunters. Bitchmare is treating them like juveline wolves learning to hunt. They're more... lucid than Bitchmare, and their interactions would really depend on how they react to them. If allowed, Bitchmare would be licking their heads clean and dragging them ... stuff to eat. Out of all characters they could also pose Bitchmare the greatest threat, let them get close and ambush. But honestly I think it would be poetically a delight to Bitchmare too. They would see it as some kind of beautiful matriphagy cycle.

C H R I S W A L K E R

An another one that would be a genuine threat to Bitchmare- the problem being that Walker just has such a strong mission and would not be able to chill w the killing. If that wasn't the case, Bitchmare would even probably have a positive, pack like approach to him- he's stong, big, why not make friends? However, it would be best if these two just straight up avoided eachother, Walker would kill them but get mauled in the process.

R I C H A R D T R A G E R

Genuinely kinda unsure what tf would happen here. Ricky could probably manipulate them? But also Bitchmare wouldn't love his lil clinic? They would immediately get attached to the babies (victims). Im unsure. Worst case scenario IS him being able to turn Bitchmare into some kind of guard dog. Pretend that Puppy is sick and offer help in extange for help? I dont wanna think about it they would be such a destructive combo. Smth smth abt how capitalism takes advantage of parents? Anyways on the other hand i think in a fight Bitchmare could take him so gbless

Comes down to- they're not really that agressive, in fact they seek social interaction very actively ! Just don't touch their baby or express any threating behaviour towards it.

[m3chanical-s0ul]

little something for my isat au...

@resident-jun34u pspsps? i guess? you seem to like this au.

with lyrics from only human by steam powered giraffe in the [] brackets that are italicized .if that wasnt...too obvious

I need to come up with an official name for this

[Just remember, to stand before you fly]

Heart felt the grass underneath him. He felt the blades scraping his skin, not sharp enough to pierce. But it was there. He could smell flowers and the icy cold air that stung his nose. Wasn’t I... His thoughts started, but he could not find the words to finish the sentence. A gust of wind pushed his hair around, sitting itself in the feathers of his two sets of wings that were resting in the grass. He sat up, confused.

Wasn’t I just...somewhere else?

[You're human only once, so give it a good try]

He took a deep breath of the cold yet refreshing air, exhaling slowly.

And then it all came back to him. A piercing pain stung through his chest as the memories played behind his eyelids. He could not physically see them, but he knew they were there. 

The stillness of it all. The few seconds before he had been struck with such pain, the look on his friends' faces as they tried to warn him. The grin, the cocky grin that sat on his face as he gave them a thumbs up. He thought he had it- he thought he would win. But as he turned around to face the pitch black creature with glowing blue eyes and matching teeth, sharp claws, a crown that seemed to pierce the sky with its rotten, corrupted jewels, he saw his life flash behind his black, sunken eyes.

He clutched his chest, his breathing picking up as he collapsed back into the grass, curling into himself.

Didn’t he...didn’t he die?

I died.

[Follow your nose, or just follow your heart]

Yet here he was, curled into himself on the grass, the pain and memories slowly subsiding. 

“[You done yet?]”

He jumped, frantically sitting up and turning his head towards the source of the voice, his nose scrunched up as he tried to decide if it was a friend or foe.

“[Calm down.]”

He heard the voice physically lower, as if the person was bending down, then raised back up. He assumed they picked something up off of the ground.

“[Do you need help up?]” The voice was slightly irritated this time, as if the person was getting impatient.

“(Who...are you?)” Heart mumbled, standing up and wiping the dirt off his clothes he couldn’t see. His wings bristled as they subconsciously raised higher to make himself look bigger and not such a target.

“[Very funny, Heart. Come on. I’m tired of your jokes.]”

Heart huffed quietly. He was not joking. He did not recognize the voice of the person, yet he reluctantly followed. If this person knew who he was, maybe he should play along.

“(Yeah, haha...just joking.)”

Nailed it.

[Oh, the choice is up to you, nobody else but you]

He started walking forward, listening to the footsteps of the other. The footsteps stopped, yet he continued, lost in thought until he ran into the person.

“[Watch where you’re...]” He started, but trailed off. “[Listen to where you’re going would be a better choice of words, I suppose.]”

“(Sorry.)”

“[Are you not going to the wishing tree first? Typically you do. Have you finally listened to me and learned the tree does not grant wishes, no matter how much you try?]”

The wishing tree. He had heard of it, but had never seen it- literally and figuratively. He had a good idea of where he was now. 

“(Uh...yeah! I’ll go do that. Which...which way?)”

“[Ugh. That way,]” He heard the other clear his throat. “[to your left.]”

“(Thanks!)”

[While you were asleep I was contemplating]

Thankful to get away from the stranger, he turned left- at least what he thought was left. The other one overestimated his sense of direction, but perhaps the other one had thought he had a stronger sense of direction. Perhaps the other one knew him better than he knew himself.

[Maybe I'm only human with rusted metal plating]

He planted his hand on a fence he had run into, using it to guide him. He tensed as he got closer. He could feel something shift in the air, though he couldn’t tell intention. Something evil, perhaps? Or something helpful. The fence ended, yet he continued forward.

He groaned as he tripped over a root, falling onto another. He sighed. If only he wasn’t blind. He looked up and felt around. Hopefully this was the wishing tree. He sighed, opening his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by another voice. 

“Hello, Moonshine.”

[And you're the robot, under constant repair]

[what-have-i-unleashed]

killer and color "enemies" phase headcanons (might be a bit too indulgent sorry)

inspired by the tags on this post

nightmare always lets killer to go off to fight color when they deal with the star sanses and/or the epic sanses, providing that killer is an obedient servant of course. whenever he's given the permission, killer just immediately takes off to fight color. his fated enemy. if there is a soulmate in this world, color would be killer's.

killer and color always fight each other with no intervention, mostly because killer doesn't like it when other interferes with their "games". this is a special right only color gets to have. if color gets help, killer will brutally and quickly take them out before resuming his usual song-and-dance with his fated enemy - that's why color always advises others to not help him, not even in the smallest ways. if any of nightmare's other minions get between killer and color, killer will make them pay. nightmare forbids killer from killing his coworkers, but that doesn't mean killer won't make their lives a living hell if they decide to butt into his business and steal away his favorite "toy".

and i think when killer fights color, he feels... happy of some sorts. he just emits some toxic variation of positivity, a cruel and deranged, but also warm and delighted, joy at playing with color. look at how they fit into each other's steps. look at how exhilarated and alive color makes killer feel. the barbs, the taunts, the comebacks - it feels good to have someone to receive what he dishes out and return it with a pretty bow on top. nightmare often stays away because of the positivity killer has during his fights with color. and killer, in some twisted way, deduces that this is his reward from nightmare for "being good" - a positive reinforcement to ensure his long-lasting loyalty to nightmare of sorts.

and this close and personal relationship with color that killer has is so different from his other relationships. with nightmare, with chara, he's always the hurt one, the one under control. but with color, it's refreshing to have something, someone, he can hold and carve his feeble feelings upon. someone to receive all his worst tendencies and still be strong enough to appear next time to oppose him and play with him again. he could almost call color a "friend", but that's not the correct word, isn't it? they're both "toys" in someone's games. and killer wishes it'll be like this forever. he wishes color would remain his "toy" so he can have this small speck of joy til the end of his time. "let me hurt you, and you can hurt me back - because that's what we're supposed to be in this grand cosmic narrative." they're enemies, so it's fine if they hurt each other, right? it's fine if killer doesn't need to bow down or accommodate another authoritarian being in his life, right? it's okay to make color suffer all his worst, and in return he wishes to crack open color's deepest darkest secrets too.

{pspsps @howlsofbloodhounds come here}