#(he's the blue blob creature)

[arcadian-vampire]

I'm taking part in ArtFight this year!! ( < link to my profile 💕) I'd love it if you guys would lmk your usernames so I could check out your awesome ocs!

[emacrow]

Visitors from another world

Aquaman just went through the Zeta tranport after Batman called on him to come to the Watchtower since Constantine wasn't responding.

He followed batman toward the large glass mirror showing space, J'onn were trying to lure a child size sea angel boy or girl with a mini nasa space shuttle slowly toward the Watchtower, glowing eyes beaming at the toy with his long flowing white hair waving as if under the ocean with electric sparking as his body was nearly transparent with a Y shape on his little chest swaying in space, freshly made star dust being left behind.

"We have no idea where this 'alien' came from, but so far, J'onn isn't getting anything beside the words coming from Voyager Golden Record an-

'I don't believe there isn't just one, Batman.'

Aquaman and Batman turns to J'onn as Silver Ships with glowing green highlights, and the word F on them was far off in the distance of space, and other floating beings leading them, a pharaoh flying holding the actual Voyager Golden Record, and a black haired lady whom body's was covered in constantly growing glowing fruits being take by tiny blob creatures going back to the ship.

The people in the green tint windows of the ships had pointed ears, green, red, blue, and purple eyes.

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG !! idk if you've seen baby bill cipher but he's such a little cutie — you should totally do a oneshot where he's accidentally transformed into his prime years and the reader is forced to take care of him , not realizing that baby bill imprinted on them !! kinda like ducklings ^_^♡

(it can be gender neutral , female , male, whatever you're comfortable with <3)

You didn’t know what to expect when you came home after work, especially not with Bill. He could’ve flooded your bathtub with rat sized spiders, or made your fridge grow legs just to tell you that you need to catch it, or even decide to decorate your house with portraits of morbidly disturbing subjects that get worse the longer you look at them.

However what you defiantly didn’t expect to see was a little cute yellow blob with comedically large light blue shoes sat on your couch, his singular eye staring at you.

‘Bill?’ You asked as you walked closer to the little guy, still thinking this was some prank as your eyes scan the rest of the room, expecting him to have popped out by now and dose you in fake blood or something but nothing of the sort happened.

The little yellow blob only made grabby hands at you and that was all it took for you to know that this little cutie pie was Indeed the little shit you knew as Bill, but how did he revert to being a baby? You didn’t know but your heart melted when baby bill made a disgruntled noise when you didn’t immediately pick him up and automatically gave in as you held him close to your chest.

Unaware that baby bill had imprinted on you the moment you walked into the room, knowing that you were a trustworthy person to protect and keep him safe from all harm.

‘Hello little guy.’ You cooed as you smiled down at baby bill who only looked back at you with his big eye full of wonder and awe, it made you wonder about how this little cutie became a demonic creature that thrived off of human tragedy and torture because whatever it was that did it didn’t sound too particularly pleasant.

Baby bill only babbled back at you, his tiny hand grasping your finger tightly which only melted your heart even further. ‘Well aren’t you the cutest triangle I’ve ever seen, oh yes you are.’ You praised as you sat down on the couch, tickling him slightly, which caused him to giggle and you couldn’t help but hold this little sweetheart close to your chest.

Taking care a little baby triangle wasn’t easy as you couldn’t go to work without the little guy crying and reaching for you with his tiny hands in desperation, it broke your heart that you had to call in sick for the next couple of days as you tried to figure out what baby triangles liked to eat if they even eat at all.

Soon enough you found out that he didn’t like crust on his sandwiches after the first couple of times when he didn’t touch them, and after that you would always make sure that his sandwiches were crustless as to prevent your house being trashed during his little tantrums.

He still liked silly straws and wouldn’t drink anything at all unless it was through a silly straw, this was already well known knowledge as there was countless times where Bill would casually cause chaos and be found sat on some surface, sipping a drink through a silly straw as though he was watching a movie or a sitcom.

You even bought little outfits for him during this time too! Sure they were made for human babies but you didn’t care as Bill looked absolutely adorable in the unicorn onesie that you had albums dedicated to him and the outfits you bough him.

You had to wash him in the bathroom sink because you feared that the bathtub would be a bit too big for little bill and that was about as successful as giving a dog a bath, you had to case the floating baby triangle throughout the house before finally managing to catch him and drag him to the bathroom.

Baby bill clung onto you no matter where you went, as though he was scared to be apart from you and would even sneak himself into your hoodies, jackets, wherever he could fit himself in so that when you went to the shop, he’d poke his head out to smile at you.

You wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t when he was so cute and so you gently reminded him that he couldn’t always sneak into your pockets and not expect you to experience parental adrenaline when you couldn’t find him nearby.

He pouted and looked saddened by this but you made it up to him by cuddling him and blowing raspberries on him, making him giggle.

You wake up to him sleeping on your face most of the time since he couldn’t sleep anywhere else unless he was near you, but you feared that you’d squish him by accident so you tried letting him sleep on your pillow, only for him to be found fast asleep against your face or your neck by the morning.

It was sweet while it lasted but it was only a matter of time before he reverted back to his usual sharp angles and chaotic self, so you valued all the time you had with baby bill to heart and making sure he had nothing but unconditional love and affection from someone who cared.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 317

IMAGINE THIS: Lil baby Damian, bored and being not quite old enough to start learning how to use proper weapons (curse these wooden ones, he wants true steel!) is wandering the base. This is not out of the ordinary, he’s the prince after all. What is out of the ordinary is that his shadow, his Akhi, is not here. 

Technically, he should be napping, but he woke up and neither his mother or his brother- who is quiet but gentle and isn’t a good speaker (mother said it was from a head injury)- is there. Which is how he finds his way to the Pit, which he’s not supposed to be at. Or at least not alone. 

But! His mother and Akhi are there! And- and Akhi is screaming and he’s never heard him scream like that, like he’s in agony- His eyes are green- they were blue, had, had Mother placed him in the Waters- 

And then the pool is bubbling- he should be running away, get assistance or something, he’s five, he shouldn’t be running towards it when everything is screaming to flee. But one moment he’s at the doorway, the next he’s clinging to his akhi as something writhes in the Pit, a mighty bellow echoing even as the Shadows take defensive positions. 

The water cascades, laps at their feet, splashes everywhere as a scaled form rises from the depths, wings like a bloodied sunset spreading as fur bursts into flames. Crimson eyes glare down at them all, pupils slits as they bare down at his Akhi. 

The creature- the dragon- dips its head down, its breath warm as it chuffs at his akhi, wings folding as though it is bowing. His akhi is clinging to Mother, shivering, several scars glowing as they fade and a burst of hair burned white. 

Oh. 

Oh.

@fairy-lights-and-blobs @f4nd0m-fun @hdgnj @radiance1 pspspspsps

[aloysiavirgata]

Prompt! Vulnerable post-case Scully. She can be prickly (because I love your Scully) but also delicate. Case-related vulnerability is my most favourite vibe in the series and every so often I get sad that there are no more moments to watch. Thank you 💜

By the time she gets around to taking it off, her blood-soaked starched blouse has all but melded with her skin. They have to peel it from her body with a crackling sound. Her jacket is already stiffly tented in the corner.

He will burn those items later, he will burn and burn and burn.

***

Acrid scent of gunpowder in the air still. Blood like pennies baking on hot tarmac. Cortisol, adrenaline.

Terror.

Her grasping fingers, her grasping hands, her wracking sobs even as he pried her away to check for wounds.

***

Mulder helps her to his bathroom, holding her elbow as she staggers beside him like a fawn. Her hair is dried in ragged, bloody clumps.

He settles her onto the toilet lid, gets the bath running at her preferred level of scald. He squirts in a few blobs of his pine-scented body wash, which begin to foam. Scully smiles a heartbreaking smile in thanks.

“Bubbles,” he says, inanely.

Scully’s chest is caked with blood, even with her shirt removed to reveal the stained satin of her bra. Her belly is streaked with it, her black trousers rusty and stiff.

How is there any blood still inside her? How is she still here?

She has her arms crossed at her lap, her head bowed. He cannot see anything but her white shoulders and her draggled hair and her dark, narrow thighs.

“Scully,” he whispers.

She gazes up, hollow-eyed. “He didn’t…” she begins. “We never….”

She looks away, lower lip between her teeth.

“Oh, Scully.”

His hands are gentle at the clasp of her bra; he turns his eyes from her breasts even though he’s seen them.

He unbuttons the fine wool trousers at her waist, slides them down with her dark panties. He doesn’t look or touch or breathe more than he has to because the idea of connecting any of this to lust makes him sick.

Her hips, the dark triangle of sunset hair between her thighs, are also sticky with blood. The lace clings a little and she winces. Her trouser lining tugs. Finally, she is nude. She is so small and so bloody and so bare, like a newborn creature.

Mulder guides her towards the tub, averts his eyes like she is Artemis bathing. Tries not to think the name Diana.

Scully, breast-deep in bubbles. Scully dripping rusty rivulets in the steam. Her tears are silent now, streaking paths down her blood-smattered kidskin face.

Mulder fills a scuffed blue plastic Knicks cup with water, curves his palm around her eyes. “Look up,” he murmurs, and she does, distant, outside of herself.

He sluices water over her head until it runs clear, until she is sleek as an otter, a siren, a goddess. She gasps a little, spreads her fingers against her skull.

Her freckles are magnified by the falling water, her eyes a little too big. A little too round. Her nose is straight and queenly throughout however; her lips parted like a budding tulip.

He massages pearly-blue Head and Shoulders shampoo into the rare, persimmon beauty of her hair. He massages her scalp until she purrs a little. He touches her until his nerves are settled.

“Mulder,” she says, and grasps his forearm in her fine, pale hand. Her face is pre-Raphaelite. Her face is like a D below middle-C; a plucked bowstring, still quivering.

Agent Mulder is already in love.

“Padgett was crazy, he was -“ she begins.

“Sshhhh,” he says. “I have conditioner.” He holds the bottle out, a drugstore brand promising THICKNESS!!! and SHINE!!!

She laughs and it warms him like a hot toddy, like the sun in August, like the sand at Ninigret Pond.

***

Scully is clean, finally, even her smudged makeup rubbed away. They’ve drained and refilled the tub with fresh water, with fresh bubbles. She seems like herself again, not so dazed.

He passes her his robe, turns his head to hold it out when she stands.

“You’re so Victorian.”

“Oh, you know how much I love to lie back and think of England.” He glances over. “The memories are so nice, Phoebe and all.”

Scully ties the too-long belt in a big square knot. “It was kindly meant.” Her smile is soft.

“I know.”

They shift awkwardly for a moment in the small space. Scully looks like a kid dressed up as an angel for a Nativity play in that enormous robe, her bare face and bare feet and tumbled halo of hair.

“Thank you,” Scully begins finally. “I couldn’t have-“

“I’m sorry,” he says at the same time.

Scully frowns. “Why on earth are you sor-“

“My neighbor. So I feel like I..I don’t know. I led him to you.” He picks at a non-existent hangnail.

Scully sighs. “Oh, Mulder.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t… I didn’t mean to make it about me, I know these are your choices, that you’re not some damsel in distress. I just hate when these things hurt you.”

Things is such an inadequate word, but no word ever could be adequate.

Scully blinks. She opens the door, wafts into his bedroom with the steam. Trails his bathrobe like a court gown.

Mulder follows after, wary. Watches her sprawl on his bed, far from the blood stains in the living room. He’s already called the crime-scene cleanup company.

Again.

She pats the bed next to her. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”

He laughs a little at that, remembers her looking a lot like this years ago in Bellefleur, in that awful motel with that terrible brown Clairol wash on her hair. He flops next to her. “Any mosquito bites you want me to check, Doctor Scully?”

She thumbs his cheek. “I was a child.”

He kisses her nose so that he doesn’t kiss her mouth. Though why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t they?

“I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea…” he quotes. Trails off. What are they doing, this isn’t a partnership. This is strange and awful and gorgeous. Her dying baby in his arms, her ova, her-

“In her sepulchre there by the sea…” Scully murmurs. “In her tomb by the sounding sea.” She closes her eyes.

They breathe one another’s air. They breathe artificial pine scent, dryer sheets, warm nitrogen. Faded cotton, old paper.

“Are you okay?” he asks, so he doesn’t slip a finger between her thighs. So he doesn’t say I love you the way oysters love the morning tide.

Her finger at his lips, her breath on his lashes. Her sweet, warm skin and her extraordinary brain and the scarred palimpsest of her body right here.

“No,” she says, stroking his jaw. “But I will be.”

****

She stays with him all night and he stays with her all night and they are arranged like the Lovers of Valdaro.

His coffee pot is programmed. His carpet is soaked in her blood, her gun is going to be the subject of an investigation.

He and Walter will protect her.

***

She loses the robe at 2AM, mumbling something vague about being tangled and too hot. Her naked body is now asleep against his chest and he lets go, finally, in the sweet vulnerability of her slim arms that can heal and kill.

[femoso-seben]

Mini witch story part one

Part 1, Part 3,

Rua walked over to the table last to arrive, her wolf familiar probably ran off to who knows where. She looked exhausted and behind her walking in shame was her familiar, Soap as she calls him. Apparently, when he was a pup he ate a bar of soap.

“You’re late,” Cordelia chimes in a teacup in her hand. As the oldest, she was the first to receive her demonic animal familiar, a big ol’ brown bear. For an old man, he sure can move fast when he is needed.

“I think you should put him through dog disciplinary training,” Sula said, this earned a growl from the wolf.

“Enough,” Rua sighs collapsing into her seat, “we are here for you,” she turns to me. You held onto my cup of milk.

As the youngest, physically, and mentally even though we all started at the same time. You were frozen in time and space. You look around, they are so much older, and time has taken ahold of them.

“Our Sire will give you a familiar,” Ophelia spoke up setting her cup of vodka down. “Then you can leave this Forrest and explore the world.”

“Why do I have to have a familiar?” You ask.

“In your absence, the mortals began a witch trial,” Rua spoke, “your familiar is there to keep you safe.”

“How?”

“In their humanoid form, they have their animal attributes.”

“Like eating Soap?” Your sisters broke out into waves of laughter and looked at the poor wolf who looked down at his feet.

“Do you have any animals in mind?” Cordelia asks.

“Fluffy. Likes to be around me. Strong. Friendly. Not so demanding… a cat.”

The forest grew cold as the trees warp around you all. Soon your Demonic sire who turned you all to witches walked from the trees. You get up and bow to him.

“Little one,” he begins, “I have your familiar.” You feel yourself blooming into a smile. From his hands, a black mass forms and falls to the ground.

Slime.

“WHAT IS THIS?” You shout poking the weird slimy creature. It lunged at you and gripped your leg. You let out the most horrific scream, and kick her leg throwing it off you. “WHY IS IT UGLY?”

From the back, you hear your sister cackling at you. The little slimy black thing slithers towards you. You look up at your Demon Sire who gives you a blank stare.

“Give me a cat!”

“He is very loyal.” Your sire says.

“HES UGLY AND SMALL!” You shout back picking it up with your staff.

“It’s an octopus,” Sula stated calmly. “A delicacy in Asia.”

“I DON’T WANT IT!” You look at your demonic father only to find him glaring at you. You stare at the little black blob, his Beaty blue eyes staring up at you. You think it’s glaring at you.

It moves closer climbing up your bare legs and to your chest. It sat right above your breast and two long appendages moved to your face. Your skin crawls and you feel the ICK coming. You grab it and punt it to the ground.

“ITS A PERV!” You scream and turn to your sisters for help. Rua turns away laughing to herself.

“You can always throw it away in a far-off land.” Ophelia offer.

“Don’t be foolish, our Familiars have an innate ability to find us,” Sula said.

Fear seeps into your skin. This creepy ugly perverted little thing was attached to you forever. You wanted to cry.

Your Sire and sister left you with these things.

It kept trying to climb up your leg.

You grab it by the head and look it over. An idea hit you.

“I can eat you!” You said a creepy smile crossing your face. Its little eyes and tentacles began to thrash around. You shove it into your bag and rush off to get some sauces and some vegetables.

How would you cook it? On a stove? In water? In bread? You shrug it had eight tentacles you had eight tries.

Your cauldron boiling, cutting board ready you grab the ugly thing and a knife ready to slice it up.

It transforms. In front of you is a huge tall man. You stare at his naked form. It glared at you, through a hood, holding your wrist.

“Let go!”

“NEIN!” He growls out his voice higher pitch than you would have guessed.

“Transform!”

“NEIN!” He said again.

“I am your master!”

“Du worst much night essen.” He snaps. He glared at him. You grab his hood and soon tentacles come out gripping your fingers. You screech and yank your hand away. He chuckles.

You wanted to strangle this man.

You finally agree not to eat him, and in return he lets you go. You also forced him into some clothes. You glared at him, and he watched you closely.

You grab your grimoire and put it into your bag. You are traveling, seeing the world! Staff in hand you walk out of the forest.

The sunset was absolutely stunning, the cliffside falls to crystal clear waters. The smell of freedom was intoxicating.

You feel the skin-crawling sensation of suction cups crawling up your legs you look down to see the disgusting thing crawling up your legs and to your boobs again. You grab it and shove it into your bag trapping it inside.

This bitch was ruining your moment. ------------

@milkywayhou full verson

taglist: @maylovesyousomuch, @trgraves-valx1f0r

[tac-the-unseen]

What the Lost Boys think of vampire related media pt.2

After your last vamp media talk you had more questions you absolutely needed the answers to. Some of those answers came more naturally than you thought.

What we do in the Shadows:

-This is their absolute favorite show. It's just something they can all sit down to watch and get a nice laugh.

-David was actually the one that suggested it to the group

-He thinks it's about as close to what being a really vampire is like.

-You brought up your last conversation about why no vampire media could be so close to the real thing and he quickly responded with “Vampires are made up to be these gross demon creatures with no self control, when in fact most vampires were just normal humans going about their life.”

-He knew that no one in this show actually knows any vampires because of inconsistencies, but it's as close to it as they can all get without having to kill anyone for it.

-”Are you off your tits, boy?” “He is.”

-Paul quotes the show all the damn time (And so do the others but he is the main culprit.)

-you actually can't get him to stop

-”I became a vampire to suck blood and to fuck forever.”

-”No fuck off. Can't be side tracked with cheap sex potions.”

-Need an answer to any questions? Paul will respond with “Coprophilia.”

-Marko is giggling at Paul's quotes and answers with his own

-”Pizza pie” :D

-”He's my sweet cheese!”

-”She speaks the bullshit.”

-His favorite character is Nadja of course

-You have to pry him away from the T.V if you need him to do something else

-Dwayne will stop whatever he's doing if you offer to watch WWDITS with him

-He loves the historical references and gags

-He relates to Guillermo most of the time, being one of the voices of reason in his Chaos Coven

-”i was thinking w-” “we should finish each other off and tell no one?” “I’m game if you are.” ✨Spooky music✨

•This show is permanently engraved into their brain

•You can take the boys out of WWDITS but you can not take the WWDITS out of the boys

Hotel Transylvania:

-Paul squints at the T.V “This has to be a crime to watch.”

-Dwayne without turning away from the T.V “Dracula is going to go ape shit when he sees this “

-David eats his popcorn slowly “at least there is other monsters in this movie.”

-Marko is giggling at the Blob and Scream Cheese “I fucking love kids movies.”

-All of them hated the village scene though.

Kid vampire:

-They all watch it because Laddie wanted them too

-All you can hear for the next few days is “Kid Vampire!” in that accent

-David and Dwayne thought the bogger nose bleed drink was absolutely disgusting.

-Like to the point the both gagged.

-Paul thinks it a cute little project

-Marko likes how they say ‘blood’

-Dwayne uses the song “Vampire brush” to get Laddie to brush his teeth

Monster High:

-Marko and Paul sing the theme song semi consistently

-”Monster-monster high! monster high! monster-monster high! Freaky, sheek, and fly, monster high, where student bodies lay.”

-”We got spirits, yes we do! We got spirits, how bout you!?”

-This is another show they all watch with Laddie

-David isn't a raving fan, but he can stand it

-”Draculaura is a bit of a lazy name.” “Clawdeen wolf? Lagona blue? Cleo De Nile? Everyone has a lazy name because it's a kids show!”

-Dwayne is secretly into it and asks Laddie to watch it with him so he has an excuse

Thanks for reading <3

Yes I saw the comment you wanted me to see. Don't think I was ignoring you, I just had to find other media to talk about. (I stalk my own page like a Hyena. It's a little sad tbh lmao)

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hi i saw your newt x mermaid reader and i was wondering if you could do a newt x jellyfish!reader if you have to much on your plate please discard this and make sure to eat healthy, drink lots of water, and take regular naps!! Have a great day!!🫶

Hello dear, thank you for your request, I love mermaids, so here is your request 🪼🧜‍♀️✨️. Comments, feedback and reblogs appreciated 😊

Newt scamander had a new founded creature within a new enclosure, sanctuary.

"Hey, buddy! Don't know where we're going, but feels like we're tryna' beat the Christmas rush on a late night." Jacob said, huffing as he tried to keep up with this crazy fellow he met a few months ago.

"Quickly, Oh Jacob, I've the most exciting new discovery to show you." Newt couldn't wait to show his newfound friend of a recent new species he was yet to explore. As they trailed down the stairs, he stopped in front of a room. The room simulated a nightie ominous glow.

Jacob, trying to catch his breath, looked up, his gaze landing on a silver tank, sealed with a rotary valve.

"Um, a tank? You wanted to show me how plumbin' worked?" He attempted to joke, seeming a little disappointed compared to the other creatures Newt had shown.

"I-i found them, on the shores near the Caribbean, some poachers wanted to dissect them for their skin, for medicine, of course." Newt's voice went a little quiet with disdain on the last line. He was known for being kind-hearted and soft-spoken. But. There were some, only a few people he truly despised—those who wanted to hurt his creatures.

Newt flickered his wand, muttering "lux." A sub spell to lumos. Instead of the wand igniting light, the light ignites in the room.

As Jacob glanced closer, his eyes couldn't make anything at first, until, he saw a bioilluminscent light illuminate through darkness.

Your oral arms gently floated as your tentacles flowed with the current, searching for food. As Jacob glanced up at your face, you illuminated a combination of different colours. Pink, red, Orange, blue, sometimes flashing your colours, investigating this new person.

The bell on your head opened, showing the inner muscle illuminating. Jacob stepped back as your bell closed keeping you afloat.

"W-what is that?" Jacob asked, astounded and amazed. Newt smiling with excitement at his new discovery, "At first, I thought this Cnidaria's habitat was located around the Amazon, but, it was only recently I discovered, their from the deep or as you muggles put it, the hadal zone."

"Cnida-who-now-" he questioned.

"Cnidaria, a phylum of the jellyfish, sea anemones and corals." Newt stated.

"So what'cha sayin' is their a jellyfish." He concluded.

"Of the sort yes, but, I decided to give them a name of homo gelata pisces."

"Homo, gelato pieces got it."

Newt then waved his wand. The window of the tank becoming a liquid entrance. "Unfortunately, we can't open the top, their-uh-not used to this kind of pressure."

"Pressure? Their a fish right, ain't a tank enough."

"No, not really, if you lived in a different environment with different pressures, you'd explode, becoming a blob of organs."

As Newt encouraged Jacob to touch you, he was amazed and entranced. As if you were a mystical alien from another planet.

You turned, sensing a strange presence. "Boy mister, I must say this is truly somethin'."

"No-no, wait, not there—."

Quickly newt grabbed Jacobs hand.

"What?" He quickly jercked his hand back in shock.

"Not the tentacles, one touch and the stinging can last up to a year, the most painful thing imaginable."

"Ok, noted." He said.

"Try up here, the bell." Newt guided his hand to touch the bell of your head. The sensation of your head was soft, slimy and squishy with weird muscle movement.

You emitted a strange pattern of colours. Newt smiled further, finding you a fascination. "They like you."

"Really? How can you tell?".

"Most creatures use sound to communicate but—in the deep its different. I studied different patterns of lights, similar to your muggles morse code. They use lights for communication."

You emitted different colours of blue, pink and red.

"Yes, he's a dear friend of mine."

Jacob was amazed. How newt could get all that from just a flash of light was mind boggling.

You then flashed red, green and yellow.

"Don't worry, you're safe here with me."

Jacob then asked "hey, uh, tell em' if they might like one of my uh baked goods."

You flashed a colour of red and white.

Newt smiled "they said, they'd love to. They live on a diet of mostly zooplankton but, they can adapt to such food changed its incredible."

You flashed a colour of blue and pink.

"What, uh, what does that mean, mister."

"They say your rather the spectacal, a good person with a good heart." Newt translated.

Newt suddenly saw something he had never seen, your large oral arm lifted to touch Newt's and Jacob's. Wrapping around the fabric of their clothes. Your tentacles floated around them.

You didn't sting them but used this as a formal greeting in your kind.

Newt eventually moved you into a much more nicer enclosure where you were free to float where you liked as he fed you zooplankton. You would absorb it through the bell of your head.

Newt spent alot of time with you, you were the most enchanting creature he ever met.

One day, when you turned human by accident. You couldn't help but this whole new world a spectacle. Your skin had bioilluminscent lights and yet your features were more glowing then most humans.

Newt took care of you showing you the whole world and teaching you of wizards and witches.

You were able to transform at will between human and homo gelata pisces.

During valentines day, you learnt of feelings. You had developed feelings for newt in your human form.

When he dove into the tank with you, your whole body lit up as you shared a kiss with him.

He swore to bring you back to your home after.

Requests open ✨️

[prisma-palace]

Mind sharing your HMSW designs with the class?/nf

HELLO!!! apologizes for the late reply i forget to check my inbox ^^ i've actually been intending to make reference sheets for em... buuuut i havent gotten around to that yet. so. heres what i got as of now!

(i'll make a big post digging more into specific details and design choices and headcanons Eventually cause i do have a lot to say. but that'll probably be included in the ref sheets when i finally make them. Unless someone asks me about specific details. Wink Wink Nudge Nudge)

mind

spider motifs!!! he has little fangs and an extra set of arms (that i keep forgetting to draw him with Oopsies). the spiderness was Unintentional at first but then i decided to just go with it and lean into it more cause i liked that idea. ill probably eventually redesign him to make him look Even More spidery but that day is not today sorry

his lower set of arms can extend/retract as he chooses. he likes to annoy heart with this. he also installed said arms himself one loop. it confused the Fuck out of heart & soul

HMS are all the same height so he wears heels to be taller cause of his Ruler-Of-Everything complex. and also i just like drawing characters with cunty ass heels

the broken side of his face is a result of the juno incident! his teeth are exposed and the big ol light on that side is his broken eyelight. its supposed to vaguely resemble a sun

also his teeth are blue. yeah

OH YEAH he also has a plug tail. it was a more recent addition so it isnt in these drawings but he does have it

heart

last two are a little old. but they show off his design so it doesnt matter

face feathers!!!!!! makes him look more creaturey :-)

the way his hair parts is supposed to be shaped like a heart

he does have a teeny feather tail but its usually covered up by clothing

his wings are purposefully messy looking, he does NAWT take care of himself. sigh. he cant really fly with them because theyre not strong enough to carry him, but he can hover/glide for short periods of time

hes SOME kind of amalgamation creature. mooostly bird, but nobody really knows exactly what he is. not even himself!

he has claws and sharp teeths hehe

he can Technically see but its VERRYYY blurry, he can only rlly see vague blobs of color. hes also super light sensitive so he wears the blindfold more out convenience than anything else ^^

hes a trans guy cuz im a trans guy and i said so Thank You

soul

right. so the problem with my soul design is that i've been meaning to redesign him for, like, a long time. However i havent actually properly fully drawn my new design for him yet! so instead enjoy what i Could find, put in order of newest to most outdated :-)

devil motifs however theyre not really fully intentional it just kinda Happened. hes not really anything specific to me, just an Unidentified Thing

neck scar. No further comment!

he has two rings on his horns, blue for mind and purple for heart

his middle horn is broken off .. :-)

claws but only on the shadowy side

if he gets particularly stressed or angry his shadow side starts to lose form and get all static-y

star shaped rip on his jeans!

also he has a star patch on his sleeve, as to match with heart and mind, who have a moon and sun patch on their knee and coat pocket respectively!

^^^ the yellow background on his patch is intentional

the eye on his shadow side is always closed. if its open thats how you KNOW you Fucked Up

whole

my whole design also has a problem but its kinda different. and its that. i dont. really. draw him often? what i Do have of him is either Old or not colored. so like. have what i do have i guess ^^

hes literally Just Some Regular Guy

his hair is a combo of HMS's: length/half-circle shape from heart, bangs from mind, ponytail + side thingies from soul

they arent rlly shown in these but he has two bracelets! one is red, purple, n blue and the other is tally hall colors

i kinda gravitate towards his name being CJ. a while ago i saw someone somewhere call him first name "Cash" last name "Something-That-Starts-With-J-I-Cant-Remember" hence the nickname CJ and its stuck with me. but also i havent thought about it all that much so Who Knows

theres a difference between him and "whole". whole is more of a Concept while hes the actual Person

on the rare occasions he manifests in headspace, HMS only see him as a shadowy figure. the closer they get to concord, the more of him gets revealed!

also. you didnt ask for her. but i wanna show her off anyway

love interest

i need to draw her properly sometime soon......

i like to think that her name is stella. as a miracle musical reference. heheh

idk shes very subject to change ill probably fuck around with her color palette sometime soon

i dont have like anything to say about her sorry. i like her. shes fun to draw

[ephie-om]

Belphie annoying his brothers is so healing to me

CW: none

Day 7: Belphegor

Sleep is Belphegor’s domain. His brothers each have their powers in the waking world, but beyond the veil of unconsciousness, everyone answers to him.

He walks through dreams often, his restless mind wandering. The purple veil draped over the scenes sways with a gentle breeze and parts easily for him. He tries his best to end his siblings’ nightmares, or stays for a while if they have good dreams. He doesn't stay long if they dream about him, though. Some part of him doesn't want to see what their subconscious thinks of him.

His own dreams pull him back sometimes despite his efforts. The most common ones are about Beel and Lilith, replaying the guilt in his brother's eyes as he left her to fall. Sometimes, his dreams twist the scene cruelly. Beel never saves her, no matter how much he begs, but sometimes Lilith screams curses at him as she plummets to her death. Or his begging distracts Lucifer, who gets caught in the stomach by a spear. He tries with everything he has to break free from the nightmare, but some dreams don’t bend even for the Avatar of Sloth. On those nights he wakes in a sweat, panting. Beel never wakes up with him, and he’s grateful to not disturb his twin.

When you come into the picture, he gets most of his information about you from your dreams. He tells you he’s an animal lover if he sees pets, or an adventurous spirit if he sees you on a hike. It works, too, and your simple human brain trusts him all the more for it. After you free him from the attic, he doesn’t go into your dreams for a long time. He knows what he’ll find there. You scream in his nightmares too, and the terrified gazes of his brothers follow him into the morning.

He yawns in the middle of Lucifer’s lecture after a prank gone gloriously right. He’d managed to slip an open marker into the oldest’s pocket during class, which bled a dark blue over most of his body before he realized. Lucifer gives up, deciding he’s said enough, and Belphie curls up right there on the couch. The violet shrouds descend around his mind, and he sits for a moment, deciding where he should visit. He’s probably the only brother asleep at this time of day, except… he thought he heard something about you taking a nap. He plumbs the depths of a murky pool of dreams until he feels your mind, ready for the taking. Suddenly the layers around him still, and he senses an intrusion. A small pink creature stumbles into his mindspace, disoriented. A familiar soul touches his, a human soul. His eyes go wide as he realizes you’ve somehow dreamwalked into his mind. You look around furtively, not quite seeing him. He must appear camouflaged in his realm. You touch one of the veils gingerly. He sneaks around behind you and clears his throat.

You jump a satisfying height. “The fuck?”

He shows himself then, all bright purple eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m… not sure.” He sighs. “I took a nap but I felt like I wasn’t fully asleep. I thought there was some kind of magic thread around me, so I grabbed it and pulled on it, and I ended up here.”

He laughs incredulously. “You mean you don’t even know what you’re doing?” You shake your head in embarrassment.

“You’re dreamwalking. This is my dream.”

You look at him confused. “Why do you dream about a bunch of curtains?”

He snorts again. “They’re doorways of a sort. Into other people’s dreams, I mean. Since I’m the Avatar of Sloth and all.” Your eyes go wide. “And you somehow managed to get in here.”

“Are you going to kick me out?”

“I was thinking about it,” he teases. “Kidding. I’d be a bad host if I didn’t show you around a little bit. You don’t even know how to make yourself a proper form yet.”

You still appear to him as a small pink blob, bright and pulsating with energy, but you certainly don’t look like a person.

“In human terms, you’re lucid dreaming right now. So you just need to think about what you want to look like and it’ll work.” It takes a few seconds of concentration, but you manage to sculpt the energy into four protruding limbs and some semblance of a head. Belphie shrugs. “Close enough.”

He takes the thing that’s most likely to pass for your hand. “Let’s have some fun.”

He tugs, and the two of you fly through layers of magic. You land in Levi’s technicolor dream. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was a nightmare. Levi is cuddled up with a ridiculously huge anime man under a cherry blossom tree, laughing at the show they’re watching on his phone. Belphie almost gags. You laugh beside him, or pulse rapidly. “It’s pretty cute.”

“It’s really not.” He can’t tell, but he’s pretty sure you’re rolling your eyes. “He has this dream all the time, it’s my right as his brother to mess with it a little.” You glow a little brighter, interested. Belphie grins, and the dream starts to shift.

The other man starts to deflate, accompanied by a loud shrieking sound like air being let out of a balloon. Levi yelps and jumps away, but the cherry tree’s branches wrap around him. He screams, and you punch Belphie in the shoulder. “You said mess with it a little, not turn it into a nightmare.” Belphie pouts, but releases him obediently. Levi scrambles to his feet and the ground starts to quake under your feet. “I said quit!”

“That’s not me. That’s the dream ending. We need to go.” He grabs you tightly and concentrates, escaping back to his dream.

“That was mean.”

“He’s not even supposed to be asleep right now. I did him a favor.” You try to be angry with him, but it fades into a soft laugh. “That was fun.”

He grins. “Told you. Must be something with our pact that connects you here. I’ve never had anyone to dreamwalk with.”

“So you’re saying we should do this again?”

“Every night, if you want to.”

[theothernads]

˖ . ݁𝜗 𝜚. ❛❛ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ¹⁰: 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥??🧍🏻‍♀️ ❞

❛❛𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬❞

☰ SYNOPSIS: ₊˚⊹♡ :

With the third magical academic year starting, you and Jungwon plan to have a normal school year and complete many goals. Except, you have to earn Enchantix with your frequent burn-outs, and Jungwon wants to become a full-fledged warrior and push past his anxiety. With their own goals in mind, they feel like 2 idiots that keep meeting by chance. However, when mysterious events threaten the magical kingdoms and schools, the specialists and fairies have to figure out the culprit and save the magical universe. But fate has other plans for their adventures and for your ‘coincidental’ meeting with Jungwon.

☰ 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ➤ft. NewJeans, Enha, TXT, BTS, esp, Jungkook, Itzy, Le Sserafim

╰┈➤𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 (comment or give an ask)

Wc: 928

<< M.LIST >>

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THE WEEKEND MEANT GOING HOME TO LINPHEA FOR AT LEAST A WHOLE 48 HOURS. It was a rule your mother made because of how long the semesters were and because of wanting to close the emotional distance that always wedged itself in your relationship with her.

Honestly, you didn't see the point of going back every week or fortnight to sit at home and do more studying there. Probably more reading than you do at Alfea. You realised how your home clouded your brain with even more stress than when you were at school.

That was why you were sauntering into the courtyard of Red Fountain, avoiding the gazes of some of the male students. Walking alone always sent your confidence on a tightrope.

Jungkook said that he would be out in the open yard in 5 minutes. He had been training and wanted to take a shower rather than be sweaty. That, you agreed with.

The scenery was as peaceful as always: the white clouds whirling as different shapes, letting in patches of the blue sky above; the grass was trimmed and cut where many of the boys were hanging out or skilfully training.

One person in particular you saw was Jungwon. Stopping momentarily, your eyes were drawn to the hefty, blue sword, the blade sheer as if it was made of glass.

He held it with both hands, the weapon lingering just above the ground as he walked forward a few steps to reveal another figure.

He also had a sword of the same kind, except it was purple, and he was taller with two pretty moles marking his face.

Both were stoic and serious, circling each other in stances made of stone. Not wanting to interrupt them, your gaze followed... Sunghoon. That was his name, wasn't it?

He rolled his neck before swinging the sword behind, bringing it up and striking it at Jungwon. With a swift slide, Jungwon avoided the sword as it hit the ground and propelled his own blade at Sunghoon's left.

Gladly, just in time, Sunghoon struck his own upwards and defended himself, directing both swords down when he manoeuvred his blade.

Just from watching them, your breath felt short and clipped. Thank Magix for possessing magic. Even then, the sport of swordsmanship still intrigued you immensely, wanting to discover every crevice there was to master it.

Maybe one day.

Seeing Jungwon reminded you of the dragon incident when he nearly fell to his possible death. You couldn't imagine dealing with that and still having to repress any cracks of anxiety from showing because he probably still had classes with the same creatures.

The rational part in you was screaming to ask if he was okay. But, there was another scream, louder and strident, that demanded you to save any embarrassment. What if they found you odd for asking? And you're here alone.

Subdueing the urge to be friendly, you stayed in one spot, out of sight, and sat on a bench.

Jungwon thought he saw a familiar blob of hair, but it was only in his peripheral vision. Too focused on Sunghoon, he ignored, trying to strike his sword again.

Another defence. Sunghoon twisted about, sidestepping easily until Jungwon was able to spot you on the bench.

His heart did a thing, one of recognition, before Sunghoon was lunging at him again with more force, taking his gaze away.

Bringing his sword before him horizontally, the clang of the swords echoed in his ears as Sunghoon brought his own on top, teeth grit.

Jungwon forced a step forward, causing Sunghoon to back up and retreat for only a few seconds.

One more glance, he told himself. Jungwon's gaze flickered, distracted by the idea of seeing the little flame that was you.

Except, when he did, he didn't find your eyes. It was a pair of masculine and sharp eyes, and he was taller. Jungkook.

And he was glaring at him, and Jungwon's concentration faltered.

The next thing he knew, the grip on his sword diminished as it thudded against the soft grass, and Sunghoon crouched, swiping his leg at Jungwon's ankle to send him right on his back.

A yelp escaped him, gravity shifting. Jungwon winced as pain tingled at his spine, now sprawled on the floor. He could barely breathe as he peeled his eyes open and saw a curious Sunghoon leaning on his sword.

"Ouch." Sunghoon tilted his head a little after saying it. Another defeated sigh left Jungwon as he lifted his head.

"You win." Jungwon took Sunghoon's hand to return to his feet.

"I know," Sunghoon said with a small shrug, beginning to take off his gloves. Jungwon did the same, and his eyes felt the pull to gaze over at you.

You glared at Jungkook as he started smirking with mischief. Punching his arm, Jungkook grumbled.

"Don't laugh at him!" You snapped at him. Jungkook was already known as some golden ace warrior, but it only meant that him laughing at someone could totally crumble anyone's confidence.

"Why not? It's basic knowledge to never take your eyes off your enemy," Jungkook simply remarked as he adjusted his bag. He was hopeless.

"You're a bully." You huffed, and Jungkook immediately scoffed, nudging your shoulder.

"You swear at me more than I do at my roommates," he said with a pointed look. Not being able to deny it, you scowled at him and turned away.

Jungkook just chuckled and looked over his shoulder, sending one last glower at Jungwon, who had briefly stared again and glanced away.

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<< M.LIST >>

[NOTES]: I'm on fire with these updates omg. I'm so happy lmao 😭 guys. I'm writing an ACTUAL book. The process is stressful <3 REBLOGS, COMMENTS + LIKES are appreciated

© 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗱𝘀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊[TAGLIST]: @dreamiestay @melancholy-z @n1k1mura @wensurr @jiiyen @jwonistic @lo-la17 @sol3chu @firstclassjaylee @luumiinaa @xwonz @vixialuvs

[ryoalouette]

Oooh got inspired with DPxDC with cameo of other idk, anime cartoon and all that.

Pet Shop of Horrors AU

Of which CW is being a troll, Long Now is visible to several ppl. It's been reported that whoever enters will get creatures that aren't of natural origins. Most of what they get are living blobs that glow alarmingly green. Someone got a floating black cat thing. Another gets some sort of chubby blue bird(?) that can only say Puu. Someone got a literal pink fluff ball that somehow flies around with it's very pink tiny wings.

Damian saw the shop. None of the Batfam sees it. Not even Duke with his meta powers.

So he entered.

CW brought him not a blob though. It's Little Baby Man.

[lloydskywalkers]

Quick question, if you don't mind me asking, will there ever be more fics with Lloyd, Rachel and Brad? You don't have to answer if you don't want too. :)

ASDFG I do not mind at all omg my silly oc :'D I have...tentative plans for them depending on how november goes, but in the meantime i did have this one floating around?? reworked it a bit to fit the timeline but here's some shenanigans

(working title is "Lloyd and Brad clown-to-clown communicating: He’s the biggest mess of parental issues I’ve ever seen. Not me, though. I can fix him.")

also somewhat necessary reference for this fic:

There are probably better places to hang out than fifteen stories up the Ninjago City municipal building — or whatever this one is — and definitely better places to hang out than outside said building on a tiny wooden platform suspended by wires. 

And yet here Rachel is, sitting on a hijacked window cleaner platform that Lloyd’s insisted is perfectly safe, while Brad goes out for awkward lunch with his awkward mom one awkward building over. 

It’s not stalking if they’re doing their own thing. Which they are, thank you very much. 

“Fat pink blob.”

“Close,” Rachel snorts. 

“Kirby knock-off?”

“Hey, rude, Jigglypuff is unique,” she retorts. 

“Jigglypuff,” Lloyd repeats, delighted. “That’s even better.”

Rachel waves the Pokémon card with an air of superiority. “Jigglypuff is a balloon Pokémon, normal and fairy type. It can lull enemies to sleep with its singing.”

“Is it related to the Clefairy one?” Lloyd asks, one leg swinging over the edge of the platform, as if there’s not a good fifteen stories of empty air beneath him. 

“No, Pokémon aren’t related,” Rachel rolls her eyes. She pauses. “Well, I mean…I don’t know?”

“I thought you were the expert here.”

“I never said I was an expert on Pokémon genetics, cut me some slack.”

“Betrayed,” Lloyd sighs. “Next you’ll be telling me that Pikachu is a rat.”

“He’s not a rat, he’s a mouse, and I did tell you!” 

“Pikachu is Pikachu! How can he be a mouse!” 

“I can’t believe you’re still worked up about that,” Rachel huffs, propping her chin on her hands. 

“It’s the principle of things,” Lloyd says. “I’m uneducated, or whatever you said. Cut me some slack.”

Rachel rolls her eyes. As offended as Lloyd’s been by Pikachu the mouse, distracting themselves with Pokémon education — which is necessary, Lloyd’s such an obvious Pokémon target audience — has been a decent success, if she says so herself. 

So far, Lloyd’s been particularly fond of Charmander, his mouth quirking at the little fire-tailed creature. Rachel went ahead and gave him a Charmander and Squirtle pair, which successfully got a laugh from him. He’s also gone for Mimikyu—

“You would like that one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

And Greninja, of course—

“I’m legally obligated to, look at the name—”

“Basic, loser—”

But she hadn’t seen Skiploom or Misdreavus coming.

“They’re cute,” Lloyd says. “And Misdreavus looks like you. When you have bad ideas.”

“When I have bad ideas — hey!” Rachel sputters. “Well, that makes sense then, ‘cause Skiploom looks like you.”

“Why, ‘cause it’s green?” Lloyd scoffs. “You can do better than that.”

“Fine,” she huffs, shuffling through her binder. “You would be…Dragonair. Or — ooh, wait, here—”

“Wooper?!” Lloyd stares at the cartoony blue blob and its oversized head in consternation. 

“It looks just like you,” she says, lips twitching. “Look at its happy little airhead smile—”

“It looks nothing like me!”

Lloyd’s laughing now though, his leg swinging back and forth enough to rock the platform. Rachel’s not normally one to be scared of heights, but her knuckles do turn somewhat white as she grips the cables. 

The whole window-washer thing does make a little more sense, now, seeing how at ease he is up here. 

Lloyd’s told her he took the window job because it was the only place in Ninjago he hasn’t caused enough significant structural damage to that would still hire him. The way he’d pulled them up this high without hesitating, though, she can’t help but wonder if there was more to it than that.

Lloyd’s the opposite of people scared of heights. Where others might shrink back in fear at the looming distance between them and the ground, Lloyd seems to come alive at it. Every gust of wind, the clear blue of the sky unfolding behind him, Lloyd breathes a little different — a little easier, a little lighter. 

“He’s not really human, remember?” Brad had reminded her, once. “Well, okay, he’s part-human — but there’s the whole Oni and dragon thing, you know?”

Which makes sense, she guesses. If Lloyd’s part dragon, it’s no wonder he misses the sky.

“There are so many,” Lloyd says, as they flip through her collection. “And you don’t even have ‘em all?”

“Not nearly,” Rachel says. “There are a lot of rare cards, or ones that are super hard to get, rainbow versions and shiny versions and stuff.”

“Like Starfarer collector’s comics.”

“Yeah, pretty much, I guess. Make something shiny and it’s worth more.”

“You’re telling me,” Lloyd murmurs beneath his breath. 

Rachel tilts her head, studying him. She’s been getting better at clocking those little remarks, now that she knows to look for them. Self-sabotaging slash self-deprecating moments, something him and Brad share in common. 

“You can’t just like the basics, though,” she says. She’s not sure the story behind this one, so distraction’ll have to work, this time. “C’mon, pick a poison type or something.” 

“I don’t even know what half the types are,” Lloyd huffs, but his expression eases as he flips through the plastic-sheathed pages. He pauses over her collection of ground types, tapping a card. “This one’s cool.”

“Oh,” Rachel says. “That’s Cubone. It’s one of my favorites, even though it’s a sad one.”

Lloyd stares at the pudgy, dinosaur-like creature. “Sad how? It’s cute.”

“Well, the skull it’s got on its head is, uh, its mom’s,” Rachel said. Lloyd’s head snaps up, expression wounded.

“What.”

“I said it was sad!” Rachel says. “It’s a lonely Pokémon.”

“They literally named it lonely?” Lloyd’s looking heartbroken by the second.

“Yeah, see, here—” In a totally smart and well thought-out move, Rachel hands him Cubone’s description. 

“When the memory of its departed mother brings it to tears, its cries echo mournfully within the skull it wears on its head,” Lloyd reads. His voice grows quieter as he does, his eyes fixed on the tiny creature embossed on the card. 

Stupid, thoughtless move, Rachel curses herself. Bad timing queen of the century—

There’s a reason they’re stalking Brad. There’s a reason they’re up this high, too. 

It isn’t like she knows what went on at Darkley’s, not all of it. But it doesn’t take a genius to guess that whatever kind of parents decided to leave their kids there weren’t the best. Or the most present. 

And she’d have to be really, really blind to miss the way Lloyd had gone stiff when Brad mentioned meeting up with his mother.

Lloyd looks down, to where Brad disappeared into the restaurant below. 

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she murmurs, uselessly.

Lloyd looks away. He’s drawn a knee up to his chest now, his cheek squashed up against it as he draws little circles over Cubone’s picture. 

“Brad said they get along, now,” he mutters. “That’s why they’re meeting up every month. To try and reconnect, or something.”

Rachel draws her own knees up to her chest, mimicking him. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Lloyd shrugs. He quickly shakes his head, amending, “No, you’re right. It’s a good thing. I’m being—”

He cuts off, looking out over the skyline.

“Selfish,” he murmurs. “Paranoid,” he adds, after a beat. “And unfair.”

“That’s a lot of lies to tell yourself.” 

“Except they’re true.”

“Stoppit,” Rachel scowls. “Now you’re calling me a liar—”

“Brad’s getting to reconnect with his mom and it isn’t about me.”

“Okay, well—” Rachel huffs. “Brad’s not here. It’s you and me and a bunch of Pokémon cards, and you didn’t even know what Pokémon was, which is a crime, because your mom left you at hell school as a kid—”

“Wow, okay, she didn’t — look, it’s—”

“You’re allowed to be hurt.”

“Am I?” Lloyd throws his hands up in the air. “I’ve already made things a mess with my dad, I don’t need to go and ruin stuff with my mom of top of everything,” he says in a rush. “I mean, she tries her best, too. People should get second chances, obviously, and like — she had a good reason, and — and it’s stupid that I’m even feeling this way in the first place, just ‘cause Brad’s having a great time with his mom and actually managing to talk to his parents without blowing up and — and oh my god I need to learn how to filter.” 

Rachel closes her mouth. 

She’d figured that was coming. She might not be a Lloyd expert, but ever since the world ended in Ninjago City for the billionth time — growing purple crystals all over yourself out of nowhere sucked, by the way — he’s clearly been off. And when Brad had mentioned hanging out in the city after meeting up with his mom, Rachel had known very well she was kicking a hornet’s nest by inviting Lloyd. 

Sometimes you gotta risk getting stung, though. To, uh…okay, turning into a bad metaphor here, but there’s a point. 

Lloyd buries his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he says, muffled. “I wanted to hang out, and have fun, and — I’m terrible at being friends.”

“Three lies, you’re out,” is all Rachel manages at first. She shakes her head, reorienting. “Well, okay, you went over like, six sentences ago, but besides the point.”

She shifts her leg free, so she can gently kick his own. “You’re not a bad friend,” she says. “We are having fun. Sometimes you talk about the heavy stuff with your friends, too. That’s all.”

“It’s also all I’ve been doing. We should, uh, talk about your day now, or something—”

“You listened to me talk about Pokémon for an hour straight,” she says, gently. “That was really cool. Brad only lets me get like, ten minutes of rambling in.”

“I liked listening to you,” Lloyd says, glancing at up at her. “Except for the part where you said I’m a Wooper.”

Rachel breathes a laugh. “You are. Look at his dumb little smile.”

Lloyd’s lips twitch, a pale imitation of the smile she knows, but it’s a win she’ll take. 

“Have you ever thought about it?” she asks, hesitantly. “Talking to your…mom about things. How you feel. Actually feel.”

Lloyd’s face falls again, and he looks down to the tiny street below them. 

“I dunno,” he mutters. “I’m not sure what I’d say.”

Rachel chews on the inside on her cheek. She thinks of her own mother, of her frightened eyes always watching doors. Thinks of old books hidden beneath her bed, well-worn pages her uncle had read before the shouting matches had started. Thinks of the sting of people who don’t come back, while you’re left spending every day hoping more than anything—

“Brad’s out.”

Rachel’s head snaps to follow Lloyd’s gaze down — way, way down — to where the tiny blob that’s Brad is stepping out of the restaurant. 

Dragon eyes, she thinks. 

Or Oni? Which would have the better eyesight, in theory—

“You ready?”

She glances up. It’s as if Lloyd’s taken a pencil and erased the heaviness from his expression by force — she’d never be able to tell, if she hadn’t seen it herself.  

She has a thing or two to say about that, but they’re interrupted as her stomach drops at the wild grin that suddenly spreads across Lloyd’s face. 

“You know, we could just go down the normal way.”

“And be boring?”

“How’d you even keep this job,” Rachel mutters, sitting square on the platform with her binder between her legs, wrapping her arms tight around the railing.

“I didn’t,” Lloyd grins. “Three-two-one-go—”

Half of Ninjago City probably hears Rachel’s screaming. The other half gets to hear Lloyd’s wild laughter as he lets the platform plummet, speeding toward the ground in a free-fall, just to grab the cables and slide them to a stop at the last minute.

“I hate you,” Rachel spits through mouthfuls of hair. Her fingers feel forever fused to the railings. “Hate. You.”

“It’s like a roller coaster,” Lloyd says happily, stepping down from the platform. He holds a hand out for her with a lopsided grin. “It was kinda fun, right?”

Rachel pushes herself up on shaky legs, grabbing his hand as she staggers off the platform.

“Kinda,” she manages. “Kinda fun. In a crazy, maniac, sort of—”

“I thought that screaming sounded familiar.”

Brad, who’s somehow gotten across the block in the time it took to plummet fifteen stories down the building, shakes his head at them both. He’s still dressed in his nerdy blazer, his hair all gelled back, but thankfully his mom’s nowhere to be seen.

“What screaming?” Rachel wheezes. “I didn’t hear any screaming.”

“She almost passed out,” Lloyd says, grinning at Brad.

For that complete and utter betrayal, Rachel kicks him in the shin. “Traitor, what the heck!”

“Ow, ow, I mean she was totally chill the whole time—”

“It’s too late now, you already tossed me under the bus!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they could hear you seven streets over, anyways,” Brad says.

Rachel deflates. Lloyd pats her gingerly on the shoulder, then turns back to Brad. He hesitates, for a beat — as if scrambling for words — then asks, “How did things with your mother go?”

Brad barely manages to hide the face he makes. He’s lucky — it could pass as discomfort with the question, more so than who the question’s coming from.

“It was, uh,” Brad scratches the back of his head. “It was okay? Actually, I need to go say bye, so if you guys want to wait like, right here—”

The clacking sound of heels against the sidewalk draws near, and Brad stiffens. 

“Brad, dear, I hadn’t finished — oh!” 

Brad’s mother stops just behind him, her eyes wide. Brad’s expression twists, his arm halfway outstretched in an aborted attempt to hide Lloyd from her view. 

A very failed attempt, unfortunately. 

“You must be Lloyd Garmadon!” Brad’s mother says brightly. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long, your father’s diabolical work is simply exemplary—”

“Mom!” Brad hisses.

“O-oh, that is to say—” Mrs. Tudabone waves her hand. “I admire, how you’ve, ah, turned your life around for the greater good?”

“Um,” Lloyd says eloquently. He looks kind of like he does when a reporter corners him on the news, except like six times worse, because reporters usually know better than to bring up your father’s diabolical work right to his face — unless they want Nya to murder them on primetime television, or something. 

“Hi, Mrs. Tudabone,” Rachel steps in. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Ah. Rachel.” Mrs. Tudabone’s smile grows tight. “Always a pleasure, being subjected to the one who got my son to stop achieving detention.”

“Which is a good thing,” Brad stresses.

“Mm-hm.” Mrs. Tudabone looks unconvinced. “What have you got there, dear? A binder full of disgustingly charitable ideas? More of that toxic—”

“Mom, please.” Brad looks as if he wants to throw himself from a bridge.

Rachel clutches her binder to her chest. “Nope! Just, uh, Pokémon.”

“I’m sure.” Mrs. Tudabone turns away from her, back to face Lloyd again. “I can’t believe Brad never introduced us, after all this time. You two were always so close, back at Darkley’s.”

The expressions on Lloyd and Brad’s faces would be comically hilarious, if they didn’t both look excruciatingly awkward. 

“Between you and me,” Mrs. Tudabone leans in conspiratorially. “I think it’s ridiculous they expelled you. The son of Garmadon, kicked out? Unbelievable.”

Uh-oh. Rachel feels a little bit like she’s been landed in a soap opera, in the worst possible way. 

“I mean, it was pretty believable,” Lloyd says, sounding a bit breathless. “It ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me, so. Uh.” 

“Because we’re both good, upstanding people,” Brad grinds out. “Okay, mom? We’ve talked about this, like, a thousand times—”

“And I told you, Brad, you should have introduced Lloyd to us earlier,” she shakes her head. “I don’t believe a word of those headmasters, look what happened to them! I could’ve given you much better advice.”

“Well, that would’ve meant you had to show up once a year,” Brad’s mouth is set tightly. “Since, you know, I never really saw you, at all? Remember that part?”

“Oh, Brad, don’t do this again,” Mrs. Tudabone sighs. “You’re always overreacting about these things. Could you be a little less emotional? You did say you were old enough to make your own decisions now, after all.” 

Brad flinches, just barely visible. Rachel’s opening her mouth, but Lloyd beats her to it.

“He’s not overreacting, are you serious?” Lloyd’s eyes are just a bit too wide, his breathing just a bit too fast. “You don’t get to tell him that when you abandoned him—”

Lloyd cuts off abruptly, the color sliding from his face like water. Brad gapes at him. Rachel, catching the way Lloyd’s breathing starts hitching and Brad’s mom seems to be faring little better, takes one for the team.

“It was great talking with you, Mrs. Tudabone,” she says brightly, grabbing Lloyd’s hand in her own. “Unfortunately I just dropped fifteen stories down a building and I’m about to throw up everywhere. Please excuse us.”

Tugging Lloyd with her, she proceeds to book it.  

The harried voice and following footsteps let her know that Brad’s following, but Rachel’s too focused to catch what he’s saying. 

Get rid of the people, get rid of the noise, cut environmental triggers—

She drags Lloyd into the back alley and releases his hand. Lloyd’s already sliding down, crouched over as he breathes raggedly, head held between his hands. 

“Lloyd! Lloyd, where’d you—”

“Shh,” she hisses at Brad, crouching down next to Lloyd. “Yelling’s bad. Hey, Lloyd, you with us?”

He gives a reedy, whistling exhale. 

“Had…better moments.” 

“What are you talking about, this is a great moment,” Brad giggles half-hysterically, joining them on the aging concrete. “We’re just hanging out. On the ground, in an alleyway, where we’ll probably all get tetanus—”

“Zip it.”

Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut. “M’sorry,” he rasps. 

Rachel makes a noise of not-quite-hidden exasperation, but Brad’s the one to speak up.

“Don’t do that,” he sighs. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Lloyd makes a sound that could be a laugh, if it was the saddest, fakest laugh ever.

“I yelled at your mom.”

“That wasn’t even yelling,” Brad says. “I’ve said way worse. She’s said way worse, actually.”

Lloyd shakes his head, disappearing beneath his hair again. Like coaxing out a stubborn cat, Rachel holds her hand out, and Lloyd’s the one to grab it this time. Brad brings his hand down on top. 

She stares at him. He winces.  

“It’s only awkward if you say something.”

“Then why’d you say something,” Lloyd mutters. 

“I didn’t wanna be left out.”

“Of the group panic attack?” Rachel says.

“Not a panic attack,” Lloyd says. “I’m fine.”

“You are so not fine,” Brad breathes out a laugh. Lloyd makes a muffled sound into his hands. 

Shifting in place, Brad continues, his voice softer. “Hey, for what it’s worth,” he murmurs. “Thanks. For…saying something to her. That meant a lot.”

Lloyd looks up at him from between his fingers. His cheeks turn a dusty shade of pink — which is way better than the ashy grey color he’s been, so he’ll probably be fine, Rachel notes — before he abruptly stands up, shaking his head. 

“Don’t thank me,” Lloyd says, looking a bit like a kicked dog. “I just — I didn’t help, really.”

“Lloyd—”

“Let’s get outta here, huh? This is kinda — kinda lame. Sorry.”

Brad stares at his back as Lloyd power-walks to the edge of the alleyway, his shoulders set in a rigid line. Rachel rises to her feet, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tucks her binder beneath her elbow.

“You wanna bulldoze into this one, or should I?” she finally says. 

Brad turns to her, his expression scrunching up. Upset, Rachel recognizes. At her. 

“Why’d you invite him today?” Brad murmurs beneath his breath. “I didn’t want — I told you about the mom thing. I knew it was gonna end up hurting him and you invited him anyways."

Rachel looks down. “He wanted to come. Maybe he wants to work through his mom stuff like you are.”

“He never said anything like that.”

“No,” she says. “He didn’t say it, maybe. But his face did.”

Brad stares, from the lines of Lloyd’s back where he stands ahead of them, then to her again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” she glares. “Lloyd’s never gonna say what he wants. You gotta start reading between the lies.”

“You mean the lines?”

“I mean the lies. Start listening to what I say more too, huh?”

Brad’s expression grows muddled, and Rachel feels a pang of guilt. Lloyd’s not the only one with a mangled social radar, she reminds herself. Lloyd’s not the only one with a childhood of bad lessons and broken connections. 

But oh, it’s frustrating sometimes, being friends with two people so hopelessly tangled up in their own emotions, while hopelessly denying those emotions exist in the first place. 

She ignores the part of her that likes how easy that makes it, for her to slip by when she needs to. 

Well, Lloyd might catch her. Like recognizing like, and all that. 

In the meantime—

She draws up to Lloyd where he’s standing frozen, just where the shadow of the alleyway meets the bright sunlight of the street. 

“Hey, knock knock,” she says. “Wanna come out of your brain, now?”

Lloyd jolts, coloring. “I’m not in my brain, I - I was just waiting for you guys, we can get going now that—”

“It’s okay to be mad at your mom,” she says. 

Lloyd makes a wheezing sound. “I told you—”

“And being mad at Brad’s mom because you understand why it hurts doesn’t make defending him any less of a nice gesture,” she continues. 

“Wha— what are you, my therapist?”

“No, you’re just stupid,” Rachel huffs. She shoots a glare at Brad as he trudges up next to them. “Both of you are.”

“You’re the biggest hypocrite I know,” Brad mutters. 

“And you’re a dummy who should talk about your feelings!” She elbows Lloyd in the side. “Both of you! Please go off like that more often, you’re like two - two - bottle rockets, or something—”

“Bottle rockets?!”

“It’s okay to feel stuff, just feel it before you explode!”

“We’re getting weird looks,” Lloyd whispers.

“Oh no, you are not getting out of this just because of social norms—”

“Okay, okay, alright!” Brad throws his hands in the air. “Lloyd. You’re fine. I get mad too, so next time, let’s just — punch a wall, or something.”

“No,” Rachel glares at him. “That’s so bad for you! You’ll split your knuckles open and damage your fingers, and—”

“Okay, geez, we’ll punch a pillow or something, then.”

Lloyd gives a shaky laugh. Brad draws up closer, his outstretched hand freezing halfway there.

“Hey,” he finally says. “We…we got out, still. Nothing’s gonna change that. We made it that far. So if we just keep moving—”

He cuts off. Lloyd looks up, his expression softening, and Brad meets his eyes with something indecipherable written across his face. 

Lloyd seems to get it, though. 

“One awkward step at a time, huh,” he says.

Brad huffs. “Awkward about sums it up. Do you know how lunch went? I told my mom I liked escargot because I panicked and couldn’t think of anything else. Do you know what escargot is?”

“How do you know what that is?” Rachel blinks. 

“Ditto?”

“It’s snails,” Brad grimaces. “It��s gross. I ate six snails while my mom asked me what I’d burned down for fun lately. Then she remembered I’m supposed to be good, and she panicked, and we sat there in silence for thirty minutes with six. Stupid. Snails.” 

Lloyd’s hand is pressed over his mouth. Rachel bites the inside of her cheek desperately.

“Please laugh,” Brad says raggedly. “It’s funny.” 

Rachel lets out a breath of laughter as Lloyd snickers quietly. 

“Another awkward step down, I guess?”

“And it was terrible,” Brad complains. “Next time we hang out, let’s just go bowling or something, okay?”

“Can we do karaoke?”

“Absolutely not. I refuse to get humiliated like that again.”

“I think we should all go to group therapy together,” Rachel says. 

This leaves both Lloyd and Brad sputtering, but the heavy weight hanging over their conversation has lifted, and Rachel will take what she can get. 

But she’s also a bit petty, and would like the last word, so before Lloyd leaves for the monastery, she darts forward to tuck both the Cubone card and an accompanying Marowak card into the pocket of his gi.

Lloyd frowns, staring at the second card as he reads the description. A small smile breaks across his face, and he holds the card out to her. 

“Call for Friend is an attack?”

“Fully redeemable, any time,” Rachel presses the card back into his hand. 

“You got him into Pokémon?” Brad says. “Don’t do it, Lloyd, she’s blown half her savings hunting down those dumb shiny cards.”

Rachel elbows him. “The point being,” she says. “That you should call us more often. ‘Cause we wanna hang out with you.”

Lloyd looks up at them both, the card clutched tightly in his hands. He smiles, a bit crooked, but more genuine. 

“You got it,” he murmurs. 

“And next time, we won’t talk about moms at all,” Brad says. 

“And we’ll all go get escargot and watch Brad cry.”

“Why do I tell you anything, I swear—”

Lloyd’s laughter is well-worth any dirty looks Brad sends her the entire way home. 

[raynerberg]

Agate birds

A deep, barely perceptible sigh drifted like a tiny ghost through the dark, lightless corridor of a place that once sparkled with every hue of life. Accompanying this ghostly breath was a persistent rhythm - heavy, confident footsteps echoing along the shabby, colorless concrete walls, where jagged, rusted shards of frame and partition jutted out like grotesque fangs. Walking forward with measured steps, the man kept his gaze fixed on a small white dot at the far end of the passage. With each step, it grew larger, spreading like a white blob on a pitch-black canvas touched by a soft, damp brush. There it was - an archway covered by construction plastic marked with dried, mysterious splatters. The absence of a door hinted at years of abandonment. Although light filtered through the makeshift curtain, it offered no clear view of what lay ahead. All that remained was to lift the veil and step forward.

— Aw, come on! Why?! You said it was here. Liars! — a sharp, irritated voice sliced through the gloom, freezing a clawed hand encased in black carbon fiber mere millimeters from the plastic. The man was sure that he was alone here. His artificially honed animal instincts had suggested as much - or perhaps their silence merely implied that the voice’s owner was not an enemy. But then, who was it?

After only a brief hesitation, the unexpected visitor tore down the curtain with a grating rip, sending flakes of grimy gray paint scattering across the floor. Two swift steps later, he stood fully revealed in the doorway’s gaping maw. On the dusty concrete floor, covered with a fine layer of lime powder, sat a delicate figure wrapped in a coat the color of deep midnight. It was a girl. She sat sideways, her head raised, fixing a vivid emerald gaze on the newcomer. Her eyes held a mixture of mild concern and genuine curiosity, but no fear.

— Oh, hello! We didn’t know there was anyone else here. — the girl offered a modest yet sincere smile. Her fluffy canary-yellow braids framed a round face dusted with freckles that sparkled like tiny copper crystals under the open rays of the sun. — What’s your name? — she asked, studying the stranger intently.

— Grayson, — came the hoarse reply. Only then did he allow himself a quick glance around the spacious hall: the same stark white walls, massive columns stretching upward to support a ceiling of concrete and rebar, a floor resembling miniature sand dunes, stray sheets of translucent plastic scattered about, and in the distant corner, a solitary industrial ladder with wide treads. His toxic-amber gaze returned to the girl.

— And yours? Who were you talking to? — now it was his turn to ask questions. Noticing that the girl showed no intention of rising from the dusty floor, Grayson crouched beside her, his black nanocarbon armor emitting a faint vibrating hum as it mirrored his movements. Up close, he could see her pearl-like jewelry - round earrings, a necklace, and a sun-shaped hair clip.

— Claire. And I’m here with my friends. — the girl’s lively gaze shifted in the opposite direction as she cheerfully waved.

Grayson followed her line of sight and snorted. Two large blue pigeons strutted across the floor, cooing softly and contentedly to each other. Was she talking to them? Well, why not? Some people befriend dogs, others cats, and bird lovers - birds. Whether tame or wild, whether capable of talk or not, that was secondary. People who truly love animals always stand apart, understanding creatures better than most humans ever could. Grayson had heard as much. He continued listening in silence.

— They told me it was here. I followed them, and they led me here, but I couldn’t find it. I’ve been here for a long time and got so tired I had to sit down. My coat and dress - ugh, so dirty! — Claire concluded indignantly.

— Well, at least it’s warm and dry here. You can sit without worrying about catching cold, — a shadow of a condescending smile flickered in Grayson’s eyes. The scars on his face made it impossible to fully express the emotion. Perhaps that was for the best. He could always ruin relationships later with a misplaced smile or careless word.

— But what were you looking for?

— A bracelet. Another friend of mine gave it to me. He’s a good guy. It was a birthday gift - tiny beads and two birds made of white agate. He said, “It’ll bring you luck,” but I didn’t even notice when I lost it. Even if it’s here, how did it end up in this place? I don’t understand anything, — she sighed mournfully.

— Wait a minute. A white bracelet with birds, you said? — Grayson had patiently listened to the little story, but the mention of the bracelet stirred him into movement. Pressing an invisible button near his elbow, the man opened a compartment for storing small items. The bracelet in question fell onto his wide Kevlar-covered palm. In the daylight, the agate shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colors. Yes, this was it - white beads on a leather cord with two tiny minimalist birds. He examined the trinket for two seconds before handing it to its rightful owner.

— I agree, sometimes I don’t understand things either. But maybe some events and objects don’t want to be fully understood or studied. Otherwise, they lose their special properties. I found this one floor up. It was just lying on the floor. That’s all I know.

Claire took the bracelet in silent surprise, turning it over in her hands. Gently smiling and stroking the smooth agate surface, she said:

— Yes, I’ve heard that. Luck and happiness love silence. Thank you! — Claire stopped gazing at the bracelet and winked playfully at her new acquaintance. It was clear what she meant, but that conversation could wait for another time.

— Well, since this unexpected search is over, we can leave. I’ve finished inspecting the place, and there’s nothing more to do here, so... — Grayson rose and extended a hand to Claire. The girl accepted his offer without hesitation, clearly pleased. Dusting off her clothes as best she could, she donned the bracelet and playfully tapped her fist against his armored torso. Of course, the man felt nothing, but surprise flickered across his angular face.

— Let’s go. I want to get back before lunch; I’m starving! And we’ll make someone happy with this find. I think you’ll get along with him. Guys, time to head out! — the petite yet confident girl commanded as she strode toward the main exit. The pigeons flapped their wings in unison and flew out through a wide-open window.

Grayson exhaled and shook his head silently, gathering his long jet-black hair streaked with silver into a ponytail. Casting one last glance around the room, he left just as silently, leisurely catching up to his new acquaintance.

~

Hi @hc-svnt-dracones95 ;) Thank you for your patience. <3 Thanks to @/merilinalex505 for some help with the translation. ^3^

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙶𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝚋𝚛𝚘! ~

💜🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @savemeafruitjuice💜🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚕𝚎…𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝…𝚘𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚎!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟺𝟼𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚗…𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕), 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃*𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝙽𝙸. 𝙱𝚞𝚑-𝚋𝚢𝚎. 𝙰𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚜. 𝚂𝚊𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚊. 𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕…)

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @tiggleebug @what-youd-expect @veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @titters-and-tingles

@odder-outlet @itzsana-kiddingmenow @kanene-yaaay @turtletimewriting @mysteriouslee

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 😖. 𝚂𝚘, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚕𝚣 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 💞✨‼️

𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙼𝙽𝚃 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟸 𝚂𝟸 𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙽’𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝚃‼️‼️‼️

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜/𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

It was currently 2:00 in the morning. And the only things keeping Donatello Hamato alive at the moment were cans of Red Bull, Dr. Pepper and a slice of pizza. And by ‘slice’, he means the entire box.

Which…the more and more Donnie thought about it, that was a hell of a combination to consume for the rest of the night. Also super duper concerning. But it kept him 101% awake, so he couldn’t really complain all that much.

But why was the young scientist staying up so late you may ask? The second youngest was currently working on the de-mutagen mutagen to un-mutagize Mr. O’Neil (try saying that 10 times fast). The tallest turtle has been engrossed in the project for weeks; his eyes have been stuck to his computer as if someone glued them there.

But…why would Mr. O’Neil need ‘de-mutagen mutagen?’ Well…you, my friend, ask the good questions at the wrong time. You see, Donatello and his brothers kinda…maybe…accidentally…spilled mutagen on April’s Dad…

Accidentally! Accidentally. It wasn’t really as bad as it sounded. I mean, how would you react if you saw your Dad turn into a mutant and start flying all over New York? Pretty cool, right?

…Alright. Maybe it was as bad as it sounded.

Turning April’s Dad into a bat…creature-like…thing wasn’t a part of the plan in all honesty. Which was why the tallest turtle of the four was so stubborn on getting this freaking blob of green slime disgustingness finished.

I mean…it was him and his brother’s fault that the scientist got mutated in the first place. And as well as Donnie knows, that’s April’s only family she has as of right now. And that just makes this whole mutation situation (<- hey that rhymes) even worse.

Donnie knows all too well what it’s like for a family member to go missing out of his control. I mean, have you met him? Or literally anyone in his household? It wasn’t out of the ordinary that they would (or could) get kidnapped, captured, or held hostage from time to time.

I mean, the sky’s blue. The grass is green. They get taken from away each other on a daily basis. Duh.

…Anyways; steering away from that sad but true fact, Donnie’s family was, well, his family at the end of the day. His comfort.

And so to just…take that comfort outlet April once had and not do anything about it seemed…inhuman.

I mean, he wasn’t human…not human in the slightest, really. But you get his point.

Huh. And…speaking of family, if Leo was in the second youngest’s room right now, the young leader would’ve said some statements along the lines of: ‘Donnie! Sit up! Your backs built like a shrimp!’ or ‘Don! Stop typing and sit up straight before your back looks like a crooked tree!’

And in all honesty? He should probably fix his posture. But Leo reminding him every millisecond of the day makes him not want to…

Besides, it’s not like he was using the computer for shits and giggles. He was using it because he needed to use it. Because he had to use it.

I mean, the more and more he thought about it, wasn’t it really his fault in the first place? He was the genius. He was the scientist. He was supposed to know the answer to every. single. problem.

Even if the problem was…well, himself.

But what could he even do at this point??? April cut all contacts with him, Mr. O’Neil could be who knows where, and Donnie just ran out of pizza!

Triple. kill!

Well…perhaps using that kind of phrasing isn’t appropriate at the moment, but your picking up what’s he’s putting down, right?

…oh God, he’s starting to sound like Leo…that’s how tired he was.

The scientist groaned, resting his head on the table and rubbing his arm in irritation.

My gosh did he miss sleep.

Even if he got, like, 3 hours on a daily basis…it was 3 hours of sleep! Which is something he rarely got anymore since everything has happened.

He rubbed his arm a tad bit harder, glaring at his computer screen as if it was the most disgusting thing to ever make way on this planet.

And that’s saying a lot. I mean, have you met Raph?

The purple banded turtle sighed in pure annoyance, tapping his other finger on the desk in a repetitive motion.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

At least this he can do without screwing it up. Like he’s done with absolutely everything.

Donnie tapped faster.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

“You look like absolute sugar honey iced tea, broski.” Donnie jumped at the sudden voice, stumbling out of the spinny chair he was sitting on as he grabbed his bō staff which was planted on the floor. He drawed the staff, only to find his baby brother with his hands slightly up in a surrendering position.

“Oh. Hi, Mikey…” The taller turtle relaxed, dropping his staff in complete exhaustion and sinking into his chair like he wasn’t about to chop the other into pieces.

God, did he want sleep...

“Why are you up so early, Dee? It’s, like, 3 a.m. now…” The youngest turtle asked as he walked over to his older brother, pulling up another spinny chair as he sat next to him.

“Late. Why am I up so late. Morning technically starts after midnight. However, 3 a.m. is way too early to be considered part of the daytime. For most of the world, it is still dark outside at this time. And so, 3 a.m. is considered night.” The purple banded turtle rambled. Mikey blinked in confusion at his brother’s rebuttal, rolling his eyes playfully, “Nerd emoji…”

Donnie didn’t even counter the remark. He wanted to, obviously. Sibling bickering is a thing, y’know.

But he had to finish this cure even if it killed him. And how the way things were going, he would have to be revived 14-15 times in order to complete it.

Mikey looked at his older brother worriedly, seeing how focused and entranced he was on the computer. And usually? That would’ve been an amazing thing. Like Mikey here, Donnie would tend to hyperfixate on certain things and spend hours upon hours researching and de-coding and…

Well, you get the idea.

But ever since April stopped talking to them completely, Donnie’s been so…prone to figuring out a way to cure her Dad.

If there even was one…

And the youngest couldn’t even remember the last time he saw his immediate older brother in a bed. Sleeping. And that made the youngest worry. Worry beyond repair. And if you didn’t already know, he doesn’t do worry. That’s Master Splinter’s job…if you weren’t able to tell by all the grey/gray hairs.

“You're doing the tappy-tap thing; you only do that when you're nervous or stressed about something...” Mikey randomly said out loud.

Well…not entirely randomly.

Anytime the second oldest would do that, he would usually end up moving his hand down to tap onto his thigh, and then the light feeling would be overwhelming for him and so he would start scratching…

It was a domino effect that Mikey really didn’t want to go down if he didn’t have to.

The taller teen looked down at his left hand and…sure enough, yep. He was rubbing and scratching and tapping his arm like some crazy crack addict. He adjusted them so they were in his lap, trying not to fidget with any part of his body but soon started bouncing his right leg. “Sorry…” He mumbled.

“Wha-? No…you don’t need to apologize. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself, Dee. That’s the only reason why I pointed it out.” Mikey rambled comfortingly, frowning a little bit as he saw Donnie’s face in a scowl. The elder’s hands tapped on the desk again, his nails gripping onto the table as he did so.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Mikey glanced at his brother sadly. He’s never seen Donnie this upset before…and that made Mikey worry. And again, Mikey didn’t do worry.

The blue eyed teen went into his pajama pants pockets and grabbed a rubix cube. He honestly completely forgot he had it in there and just happened to remember in this exact moment, but perhaps it was a good thing he forgot.

Because it was obvious his big brother needed it right now.

Mikey gave the other the cube, which he gladly accepted. The taller turtle frustratingly solved the cube…not because solving the cube was frustrating, but because he was frustrated with himself.

“You…wanna talk about it…?” The youngest asked gently. “No…no not really…” The older said as he looked at his computer blankly, solving the cube.

My gosh he needed sleep. And he knew he said that a couple times already but being tired was starting to get…well, tiring!

And you know what the worst part of all of this was?

He did the best he could.

The best he could muster wasn’t enough but at least he tried. Saving the world every day and night sometimes didn’t always go as planned.

But was that good enough? No. Of course it wasn’t. But at least he tried. He always tries. There hasn’t been one mission he hasn’t at least tried to do his part.

It's just kinda hard when you’re a 5'8 mutant turtle that the whole world is afraid of and yet you save their asses each and every day.

The irony…

And on top of it all, he hasn’t been making a smidge of process.

The mutagen still looks the exact same as it did a week ago. And the week before that. And the weeks and weeks and weeks before that…

“Dee…” Mikey started, looking at his older brother with sad, pleading eyes. “No. Stop. Don’t look at me like that.” Donnie scowled, “I’m not in the mood to be pitied.” Mikey returned the cold stare slightly, crossing his arms loosely, “Well, you should be in the mood to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Like hell you’re not.” The smaller turtle laughed bitterly, although nothing at the matter was truly ‘haha’ funny. More so ‘what the actual fuck— go to bed’ funny. “Your eyebags literally have a whole story arc right now. A plot and everything. You can’t tell me your not even a smidge sleepy.”

“That’s hilarious. It’s almost like I just did.” Donnie spat, glaring at the rubix cube as he continued to solve it.

The freckle faced turtle sighed, “Just…look. Listen to me for a sec, okay?” Donnie solved the cube, putting it on the table as Mikey held his hand.

“I know that your work is important to you. And I know you feel responsible for Mr. O’Neil’s mutation.” He started, squeezing Donnie’s hands comfortingly, which caused the elder’s hands to untense a bit, relaxing in the other’s hold. The smaller turtle smiled at the small but impactful motion.

He started up again, “We all do. But we’re not gonna get any step closer to figuring out the cure if our #1 scientist bro keeps working himself to death...”

“And by the looks of it? You’re 50% there…” The younger said as he let go of the other’s hand, getting a better look at his face. “How would you feel if I stayed up working on this all week? Wouldn’t you be worried?”

“You’re not smart enough for that.” Donnie mumbled, a small smug smile on his face.

Mikey gave his brother a playful punch to the shoulder, rolling his eyes playfully as his older brother laughed, tears welling up in his eyes. The blue eyed teen’s eyes widened in surprise, looking up at him.

“Are those…happy or sad tears…?” Mikey asked. “Probably both.” Donnie snickered, wiping away his tears, “Sorry. You know how emotional I get when I’m tired…”

The smaller teen hummed in acknowledgement, resting his head on the taller teen’s shoulder. “How about this: I’ll stay with you in you’re lab to help you go to sleep.” He offered, a small reassuring smile on his face as he looked up at Donnie once again.

“Okay…but what do I get in return?”

“A good night sleep.” The younger deadpanned.

“Touché…” Donnie hummed, now too tired and too emotionally drained to argue at this point. He yawned, standing up from the chair as the action was soon being followed by the other turtle in the room.

“Do not kick me while we’re lying down, got it?”

“Nooooo promises, bro-bro…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Okay…I feel utterly ridiculous.” Donnie mumbled as he crossed his arms in Mikey’s hold. Since Donnie couldn’t sleep, the youngest thought it would be a great idea to give him a hug just like their Dad did when they were turtle tots. Which, was to basically hug them from behind while the turtle being hugged was lying down slightly.

It helped them sleep on hard nights…and it seemed like Donnie was having a hard night.

“Don’t be. It’s alright.” The youngest smiled reassuringly, giving his brother another tight squeeze. “Dad did it exactly like this! You’ll fall asleep in no time!”

“Well, Dad’s a 6'2 mutant, Mike. You’re 4'6 while I’m 5'7. This hug is nothing but just pure awkwardness...”

“I’m 4'10!” The smaller mutant corrected, obviously offended by the false statement.

“Then I’m 6 feet tall.” Donnie chuckled.

“Okay, Mr. Wise Guy! Do you want this hug or not?!”

The elder chuckled, making no further comments as Mikey hugged him. The two sat in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company as the quietness overtook the room.

“I’m…sorry for being such a dick earlier…” Donnie murmured sadly, “I wasn’t being bitchy on purpose…I was just…” He paused, trying to figure out what he was going to say before suddenly losing the train of thought. “Stop thinking so hard. You’re gonna hurt your big brain.” Mikey pouted, poking Donnie in the cheek a couple times.

“And don’t worry about it. I didn’t take it personally. You were really agitated and tired so you had to let your Alpha male come out. No shame in that.”

“Still. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. So I’m sorry.” Donnie simply mumbled, before blinking in confusion a couple of times, “Wait. Did…Did you just call me an…Alpha male?”

“I sure did.” Mikey beamed proudly.

“Ugh…I hate you so freaking much, y'know that?”

“Suuuure you do. I’m the Alpha, I’m the leader, I’m the one to trust…” The youngest started to sing, rocking himself and Donnie side to side as the eldest tried to get out of the hug. “Ihi rehefuse to get comforted by ahan individual thahat knows thahat atrohocity by heart.” He snickered.

“Oh come on! I think I’m a pretty good singer!” The purple banded turtle only rolled his eyes at the comment, scoffing lightly, “Meehee and yohou hahave different definitions ohof thehehe word good…”

“Fine then! I’m a great singer!” Mikey challenged.

“Lihihike hell yohou are, yohohou bihig oaf.”

“I’m shorter than you, Einstein!”

“Doesn’t mehean your nohohot bihig…” Donnie mumbled giggly but smugly.

The youngest glared, jabbing Donnie in the side, causing the russet eyed turtle to shriek loudly in surprise. Mikey giggled, poking Donnie in the sides repeatedly. “The Boo scream from Monster’s Inc goes crazy, bro.”

“M—Mihihichael!”

“That’s my name~! What’s up? You need something?” The orange banded turtle asked teasingly, peering down at his brother who was now squirming uncontrollably.

“No? Well okay then…” The youngest mused as he continued to wreck his brother. “W—Wahait! Wahait! Ihihi’m gohonna wahahake eheveryone uhuhup!” Donnie squealed, leaning against his little brother’s chest as he squirmed in the hold.

“Then stop laughing then.” The younger one huffed, smiling even more as Donnie’s blush increased in volume and size. “Buhut you’re tihihickling me!”

“I think that sounds like a you problem, dear brother of mine. Maybe you should try being less ticklish and it wouldn’t happen to you!”

Donnie’s giggles became more frantic, turning his face to hide in Mikey’s side. The younger smiled at the shy gesture, ceasing his tickling for a moment.

“I promise I’ll stop when you want me to, okay?” Mikey said with a soft smile on his face; which, was nice and all but at the same time why did he have to be so nice about it???

Donnie nodded embarrassed, preparing himself physically and mentally. “Oh! And thanks for opening this spot for me, Dee.” The smaller mutant giggled as he scribbled his fingers against the crook of Donnie’s neck, which made the taller turtle flail around and try to hit him. “Hehey! Hey! That's not very nice!”

He pulled one of Donnie’s arms up and wiggled his fingers directly in his underarm. “NAHA— *hic* NOHOH!” The older cackled as he desperately tried to pull his arm back down as he hid his face deeper in Mikey’s side. The blue eyed mutant awed teasingly at the sight, chuckling to himself as his big brother laughed his heart out.

“NAHAT *hic* THEHERE! PLEHEASE!” 

“Nahat thehere?” Mikey faked gasped, “What about…right here~?” He giggled, squeezing right above the other turtle’s hip bone. Donnie kicked and squirmed as more hiccups followed.

“Awh…is my big brother tickwish~?” Mikey said as he buried his face into the crook of Donnie’s neck, giggling as the older’s cackles began to increase in volume at the teases. “ShuhuHUT yohOUR’E *hic* TRAHAP!” The purple banded turtle shrieked, trying to push at his baby brother’s face to try and stop him.  

“You’re hiccups are adorable, big bro~!” Mikey cooed, now noticing how red Donnie’s face have gotten due to all the laughing and teasing. Mikey stopped tickling Donnie but his face still remained in the crook of his neck, smiling at the giggly mess he made of his older brother. Donnie glared while laughing, pushing on his baby brother’s face.

“StaHAP!!! Stohop…”

“I’m not even doing anything!” The other laughed as he hugged Donnie, rocking him back and forth again.

“Lihiterallty dihihie…” Donnie giggly grumbled, trying to wipe off the grin happy smile his brother plasteed on his face. “Yohohou’re. the. absolute wohorst…” He giggled tiredly, curling in on himself as he swatted his baby brother away from him. 

“Now…do you wanna go to bed or should we…” The orange banded turtle trailed off of his sentence, looking down to his elder brother whom’s eyes started to droop.

“Pff. 'Night, Dee.”

“Mhm…”

Donnie relaxed in Mikey’s hold, which made the younger one’s eyes soften greatly. He pulled out his phone, taking a picture quickly and going into the family’s group chat:

👁💀👺💥Teenagers who are Mutants who are Ninja’s who are also Turtle’s🍕🌝🧫👼

Yo 😼😼😼

Mikey???

What are you doing up so early?

>:3

Ur lucky Don isn’t online here Leo

He would go on a full on RANT abt the ‘late’ and ‘early’ bs

I’m aware…

So what’s up, Mikey? You okay?

Yeah💕💥!!! I’m fine!!!

Just wanted to tell you guys that I’m in Don’s room catching some ax’s ✨✨✨

WJAT??

BAHAH EXCUSE ME

CAN I JOIN

NONO STUPID AUTOCORRXT

Z’S I MEANT Z’S. AS IN SLEEP

S L E E P I N G

LIKE SNOK MIMIMI TYPE STUFF

Jesus…

Mikey. Never do that again.

IT WASNT WVEN MY FAULTT

SO DOES THAT MWAN NO AXES???

SHUT UP, RAPHAEL

🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕!!!

Oh grow up, Raph

Yeaaaaah Raaaaaaph, grow up 🙄🙄🙄

🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕‼️‼️‼️

Anyway 😾

I came into his room bc he was working on the mutagen thing

Oh…

Poor Don.

He’s been working on that thing for ages

Thanks for doing that, Mikey.

I’m sure he appreciates it.

He better

My shell hurts from supporting his big ass

DAMN

Just go to bed, Mikey— b4 Leo kills the both of us

Love ya bro

See u when u and Don wake up

Love you guys too 💝💘💖💗💓

Mikey smiled as he turned off his phone, putting it on Donnie’s nightstand as he relaxed against the bed frame. He rubbed his brother’s shell comfortingly, humming a small tune softly.

“Hey, Mike?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for this. I…didn’t know how much I needed it…thank you. I love you.”

Mikey smiled brightly, squeezing Donnie a tad bit tigther, “Love you too, Don. Now go to sleep before you become more wrinkly than you already are.”

“Oh, fuck you…” Donnie chuckled, drifting off to sleep along with his little brother.

Things weren’t perfect. I mean, they never will be. They never would be.

But being apart of a team means your never alone.

And being apart of a family means you’re never alone.

And as long as Donnie had his…he’d be quite alright.

He can finish the mutagen later…as of right now, he needed to go the fuck. to. bed.

And thanks to Mikey, he can finally do that.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚FIN˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(P.S.: If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging!!!)

[sephirthoughts]

Mother

Chapter 1: The Grey Figure

summary: post-advent children, the remnants of sephiroth wind up somewhere they aren't supposed to be, without a clue how they got there, or how to get out. a mysterious figure takes them under its wing, claiming to want to help them.

tags: gratuitous silliness, slight mystery, post-canon, the remnants are the stars because we need more of them

rating: teen and up

warnings: amnesia, i guess?

Location: The Skyless Plains, Space Between Worlds

Through the bleak and barren waste, a solitary figure wandered. Grey and wraithlike, it was, veiled in hooded robes, like shredded wisps of cloud; invisible in the purple-grey fog, that hung heavily over the featureless landscape.

But that was alright. None who came here had eyes. 

The figure had just paused, to contemplate choosing another direction, in which to wander aimlessly, when a sound disturbed the perpetual calm. A voice. Then another, and another. Three voices!

“But such lively voices in this place are unheard of,” thought the figure, then laughed inwardly, believing itself to be terribly clever.

Since it had no specific reason to choose any other direction, the figure glided toward the lively voices, to take a look. Soon, it came upon their source: three legless and armless little blobs, who seemed to be quite small, for creatures capable of generating so much noise.

The grey figure thought of them as little, because, though size was entirely conceptual, here, when judged relative to the grey figure’s own size, theirs would be similar to grapefruits, if the grey figure is assumed to have the rough dimensions of a human being. 

In any case, the three little blobs were made of pale and wavering light; one white, one blue, and one green—which only mattered because the light was actually life force, which could be seen by those without eyes, and thus the colors perceived, in this place. 

“Greetings, little blobs,” said the grey figure, in as polite and non-terrifying a tone as it could remember how to configure. 

Of course, the three blobs screamed in terror and darted away as fast as they possibly could. Or, perhaps, darted is the wrong word. They had no limbs and, to be perfectly honest, were not very fast.

The grey figure stood watching, curiously, as the tiny disembodied existences wriggled in the grey dirt, inching away at a pace far slower than its own usual, aimless strolling. 

“Did we—did we lose her?” the green one panted (having absolutely no reason to be out of breath, since none of them had lungs).

“Maybe, but those things are wily,” said the (slightly) more intelligent white one. “She might be trying to trick us into letting our guard down.”

“No one told me to have my guard up, in the first place,” the blue one whined. “I’ve had it down this whole time.”

“Pardon me, little blobs,” said the grey figure again, in an even more polite and non-terrifying tone.

The three blobs repeated the process of howling and flailing stupidly in the dirt, until they succeeded in getting a few more inches away, upon which they repeated their former conversation, nearly verbatim.

The grey figure gave a forbearing sigh. Reaching down, it plucked up the three wriggling blobs and held them in its (purely conceptual) palms, to have a (metaphorical) look at them.

“You’ll never take us alive!” roared the white one.  

“I’m too beautiful to die!” wailed the blue one.

“I can’t feel my legs!” bellowed the green one.

“Calm down, little blobs,” the grey figure gently admonished. “You’re using up your life force, thrashing about, like this. If you keep it up, you’ll disappear altogether.”

“We’re not blobs, you reaper hag! We’re souls!” the white one contended. “And don’t even think about eating us! I’ll…I’ll lodge myself in your throat and choke you!!”

The grey figure considered this for some (or no) time (which did not exist here). “Hm. You do seem to be human souls. But you’re so small. You must be very young souls.”

“We’re not born yet,” the green one offered helpfully.

“Shut up, Loz!” the white one scolded. “Don’t tell it things!”

The grey figure seemed to smile. “Your name is Loz?”

“No!!” the white one thundered. 

“Yep,” the green one chirped.

“I’m Yazoo,” the blue one said languidly, as if speaking was a dreadful inconvenience, and it could only be asked to do so much.

“I said don’t tell it things!!” 

“You’re Loz, and you’re Yazoo,” repeated the grey figure. “And what’s your name, little one?”

“None of your business!” the white one wiggled angrily.

“He’s Kadaj,” the green one said. “We’re all brothers.”

“I see. So, you’ve always been together?”

“Yes.”

“Mn.”

“Ye—I mean! Who’s asking!! And put us down!”

“This is a curious riddle, little blobs,” the grey figure said musingly. “If you were never born, how do you have names?”

“We named ourselves!” growled Kadaj, the white one. “What do you care!”

“Did you? Well, they’re darling names,” the figure chuckled. “I like them, very much.”

“Thanks!” Loz chimed.

“Hmph,” Yazoo hmphed.

“So, Yazoo, Loz, Kadaj, tell me; how have you come here?”

The three blobs faltered, seeming to be at a loss.

“We…um. Well.”

“We really can’t…”

“We don’t know.”

The grey figure nodded. “I suspected as much. And where were you, before?”

“We don’t know.”

“No idea.”

“And we wouldn’t tell you anyway!”

“I ask because you look like human souls, to me. But if that’s the case, you shouldn’t have been able to come here. This is a place of exile, for those who can’t return to the lifestream.”

“We were in the lifestream, once,” Loz said cheerfully. “It was warm and bright!”

“Then we were…somewhere else,” Yazoo murmured.

“Now, we’re lost in this stupid wasteland,” Kadaj grumbled.

“Well, you’re in luck,” said the grey figure. “As it so happens, I’m the guardian of this place. If you’ve found your way here by mistake or mischance, there must be a way to send you back to where you belong.”

“The guardian?” Yazoo asked, skeptically. 

“What’s a guardian?” Loz wanted to know. 

“As guardian, it’s my task to oversee this place, and ensure that everything proceeds according to the rules. I’ve never tried to exercise my authority, before, because I’ve never had a reason. But this does seem to be the correct situation for it.” 

“Were you always here?” Loz asked.

“No. I was human, once.”

“You don’t seem human,” Kadaj said suspiciously. “How long have you been here?”

“That is a question,” the grey figure sighed. “It seems, not very long. And yet, I feel as if I carry the burden of ten-thousand centuries.”

“You can just say you don’t know,” Kadaj informed it, which made the figure seem to smile.

“Excuse me, um, ma’am,” Loz put in, shyly. “Do you have a name?”

The figure appeared briefly troubled. “I must have, but…I seem to have lost it.”

“Then, what do we call you?” Yazoo asked. 

“Yeah, we have to call you something,” Kadaj agreed.

The figure laughed softly, seeming to be pleased by this. “You wish to give me a name?”

“Well, we don’t actually know any names,” Loz admitted.

“We know our names, idiot,” Kadaj retorted.

“But we can’t use our names, they’re already ours,” Yazoo lamented.

“The three of you seem to know many words,” observed the figure. “Any word you know can serve as a name, if you choose to use it as one. Why not choose a word, for my name?” 

“Reaper hag,” Kadaj put forth confidently.

“But I’m not a reaper. Shouldn’t a name be a more unique designation, that avoids causing unnecessary confusion?” the grey figure reasoned.

The blobs were utterly confounded by this, and fell silent. 

The grey figure seemed to laugh, again, behind its wispy sleeve. “This is not a pressing matter. Think, for a while, and choose something you like, to call me. For now, let us go.”

“Hang on a minute, go where?!” Kadaj demanded. “We never agreed to go with you! This is some kind of trick, isn’t it!”

“I vote to go with the reaper hag,” Loz said. 

“Seconded,” Yazoo yawned. 

“There’s no voting! This isn’t a democracy! Hey, where are you taking us! I demand answers! I dem—mph! Mmmph!”

Kadaj’s outraged protestations were muffled, as the grey figure stuffed the three little blobs into its sleeve, and vanished.

To be more accurate, it didn’t really vanish, it simply used astounding speed to cross unfathomable (conceptual) distances, in negligible time (which did not exist here). Not that it would have mattered if it vanished or not, though, since again, no one could see it in the first place.

“Here we are,” it said, shaking the little blobs back out of its sleeve, to plop onto the grey ground.

“—have rights! I don’t have to put up with being manhandled by some reaper hag, just because I’m—” Kadaj broke off, bewildered. “Where are we?”

“Home,” the figure said, in a sepulchral facsimile of cheerfulness.

Kadaj scowled. “This doesn’t look like home. It looks like more shitty grey fog.”

“What should home look like?” the figure asked.

“It should have a house!” Loz answered sagely. 

As he spoke the words, some of the fog receded, and a cottage style, two-story house emerged, just as he’d imagined it, only grey.

“It should have a garden,” Yazoo ventured, and more of the fog lifted, revealing a perfectly idyllic kitchen garden, full of flowers and vegetables and herbs of many varieties, only they were all grey. 

“It should have a mother,” Kadaj said coldly. 

When he looked up to sneer at the grey figure, however, he found that it had transformed, into a lovely young woman, with a gentle smile on her face.

She was as grey as everything else, but her skin was fair and her eyes were deep, and her long hair, which she wore pulled up in a high ponytail, was somewhere in the middle. Her figure was slender and petite, and she wore a simple dress, with an apron and comfortable house shoes, like the mother character in a children’s storybook. 

“M…mother?” Loz faltered.

“She’s not our mother!” Kadaj exploded. “She’s that reaper hag, in disguise!”

“That’s true—well, not exactly true, since I’m not a reaper,” said the former grey figure, who was now a grey young woman. “I am the same person who brought you here. I have created this place for you, in accordance with your ideas regarding what a home is, to make you more comfortable. I suppose I’m to act as the mother, since you say a home requires one, and I can’t create sentient beings.”

“Mother!” said Loz and Yazoo, bouncing happily.

“Since we’re home, shall we go inside?” asked the grey young woman.

“Inside, inside!” Loz and Yazoo cheered.

“You’re both idiots seeking death,” Kadaj groused, sullenly following the others into the house, with his arms crossed and his little silver eyebrows lowered in a scowl. Then he abruptly realized he had arms to cross, and a chest to cross them on, as well as legs to follow the others with, and gave a yelp. “I’m a person! Y—you guys are people, too! We were born! Wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Since this place is intended for your comfort, I gave you human forms, based on the condition of your souls,” the grey woman explained. “You’re children, now, because you’re so weak and small.” 

“Shouldn’t we be babies, then?” Kadaj pointed out. 

“I’ve no wish to care for infants, who can neither speak, nor do anything for themselves, so I gave you a little spiritual energy boost. Your physical ages should be around six human years.”

“Couldn’t you have given us a big one, so we can be grown ups?” 

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the woman said gravely.

“Is it against the rules?”

“No. It’s just that I think you’re absolutely precious like this,” she grinned, reaching down to pinch Kadaj’s little round cheeks.

“Back, hag!” he barked, striking out with both hands, to fend her off. Unfortunately, he had the strength of a six year old, and the woman simply ignored his little slaps and pinched his cheeks to her heart’s content. 

His eyes were blazing with white-hot indignation, and the moment she released him, he ran away up the narrow stairwell. A second or two later, they heard a door slam, upstairs.

“Only just become a mother, and it seems I’ve already got a teenager,” the young woman mused. “Wherever does the time go?”

“Mother? We’re hungry,” Yazoo said, tugging on her apron.

He was looking up at her with the largest, saddest eyes, and an aggrieved pout, which, on his beautiful, childlike face, was a devastating blow capable of slaying gods and mortals, alike. 

“Mother, can you cook us something?” Loz put in, tugging on her apron on the other side.

“I’m not sure. I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we,” she said, and entered the kitchen with the intrepid air of an adventurer, sallying forth into an undiscovered country, fraught with unknown dangers.

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY 

yazoo: mother we’re ever so hungry

loz: please make us food, mother

system: [-1000 points of puppy-eyes damage to party member mother] 

grey figure: [spitting out blood] my character settings are not specced for this