#Monster Killcode

[bipolar-sad-and-ready-to-cry]

Uh here are the KC and Sun of the gooey nightmares AU

KC is made of goo and bones, some goo is opaque and some goo is transparent, he mainly stays peoples minds and is only normally visible to his host (the person who’s mind he resides in), children, animals, people about to die and those he eats.

KC currently resides in Sun’s mind, he keeps giving Sun nightmares, by accident mind you, so Sun is always tired but puts off sleeping, he has gained weight (somehow) due to his lack of sleep and irregular sleeping patterns.

The entire family is concerned, even others that are enemies to the family are concerned for Sun’s health

[catspawcreates]

‘Who Found Who?’

I just said earlier today to his co-creator @fairyfox.bsky.social that I almost never draw him.

The Entity (Fae KC) decided he needed to be seen. Still adoring him & his newest evolution 💕

Line Art and close-ups below cut

I’m trying to redesign my KC OC’s to all be a bit more unique and different than the source, especially in their face shape. Miraculously I didn’t even sketch for this. Just went for it.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

He's got the power and drive of a man with a shopping list that he needs to get finished before the end of the day! He's getting everything done:)

During the weekend he and Bloodmoon play some violent videogames, hunt in the forest and menace idiot teenagers near a lake-

They watched a Friday the 13th marathon beforehand...

Aaaand Ruin would be in HELL!

He'd probably turning that MLP world into a hellscape with various 'Cupcake' and 'Rainbow Factory' scenarios...

During today's episode of The Sun and Moon Show that earlier in the episode we see SOMEONE jumping in the background, possibly into the ballpit. So... Someone else probably witnessed Solar and his Moons showdown and overheard everything said between them.

What do you want to bet it was Ruin?

And what do you want to bet he's going to salvage something from the wreckage of Solars Moon?

My guess?

A new, AGGRESSIVE Killcode...

...at least until he chills out like our old one did...

[theallianceofcelestials]

How would the Nightmare family and SCP family react to each other?

I'm going to assume by Nightmare family, you mean the Watchful Nightmare gang. If not so, feel free to correct me!

Well in Interdimensional Mishap we see how WN!KC, WN!Bloodmoon and WN!Eclipse react to SEA!Eclipse and he to them, so I'm not gonna talk more about that, cuz I that's the one most fleshed out in my brain.

I'm gonna go down the SEA character list for this:

Eclipse

WN Sun and Moon would probably be unsure of this adult Eclipse, especially at the current stage of their relationship with their own where the little guy is suspicious and kinda hostile to them and they're incredibly unsure and irritated by some of his behaviour. They wouldn't trust SEA Eclipse, and he'd have a hard time looking at these versions of his uncles being hostile to him. The most amicable thing they'd probably end up doing for a while is mutually avoiding each other.

WN Lunar, who's basically a toddler, would absolutely love this big Eclipse, because he looks like a mix of his favourite rayed people! Even if his colouration is a bit darker, he still looks like Clipsey! So he would want to nap on him. Meanwhile SEA Eclipse is desperately trying to get the tiny version of what he thinks is his baby brother off, because he does not want to be drooled on!

WN Earth would take one look at the guy and decide he needs a friend. She'd probably be cautious, because this whole other dimension could be a ploy to get close to the children to kill them, but WN KC seems so sure he's a good 'kid', so she's willing to see where this may go. Eclipse on the other hand would be grateful for her calm and collected behaviour, sticking the closest to her.

Killcode

SEA Killcode would melt at the sight of his children as so small and young. Especially because he could never experience raising his own Eclipse, even if that'd have looked different. He'd probably happily let them hang off of him constantly, happy to be used as a playground. If any monsters came near him, he'd murder those brutally. He may have troubles leaving them for long, his instincts insisting he shouldn't leave children this small alone.

WN Killcode and him would beef, no doubt about that. They'd also be dad buds, gossiping about their kids. No inbetween. They'd each have trouble with leaving the other's children alone, though WN KC would be weirded out by the whole being the youngest of triplets thing. He doesn't really consider Sun and Moon his family yet at the point we're in the story.

WN Sun would be terrified of him, however even shaking, he'd try being friendly. Killcode would appreciate it, and he'd be nice to him seeing as that's basically a different version of his brother.

WN Moon would be hostile at first, especially when they learn these aren't really animatronics. That wouldn't sit right with him in a world full of monsters. They probably wouldn't become buddy-buddy with each other, despite Killcode's best attempts, but they'd be amiceable.

WN Earth would be a surprise for SEA Killcode, but not an unwelcome one in the end. They'd trade recipes and would end up becoming fast friends. Especially when Earth gives him advice on how to approach Eclipse's issues.

Solar Flare

Solar Flare would still show great respect towards WN Killcode, despite him being unsure about this stranger that's supposedly the child of a version of him. However because it's respectful toward him, he's nice to it too. However they wouldn't get over basic politeness. At least that's what Solar Flare thinks.

WN Bloodmoon would use it as a chew toy. Solar Flare is not amused

WN Eclipse would be something it can't really handle, despite the kid being attracted by its calm demeanor and cool looks. Clipsey would attempt to draw it into an activity, and it'd just freeze. It doesn't know how Eclipse can handle seeing a kid version of himself so well, when it freezes up.

WN Lunar is clearly too small, and needs more food in him immediately. Something shouldn't be that small. Lunar is just confused by the weird looking guy.

WN Sun and Moon would be the most hostile to it, because of how weird it looks. It in turn wouldn't trust them. To mend their relationship, they'd need a lot of time spent together to chill out.

WN Earth is nice company because she's quiet. She's a bit unsure about the weird looking not-animatronic, but she trusts what everyone else says about it, so she'll give it a chance. She's not disappointed.

Bloodmoon

WN Bloodmoon and SEA Bloodmoon would be partners in chaos. Their eldest siblings turned middle children and baby siblings energies would combine in the most chaotic manner. Though SEA Bloodmoon would probably be pretty indulgent with their younger alternative selves. They'd also try to impart some of their hard earned wisdom, with little succes most likely.

WN Killcode could just call for his own Bloodmoon and they'd be there in a heartbeat too. It's too ingrained in them to listen to their father to recognise the difference between tones and whatnot until they're already standing before a confused KC. They'd feel mostly embarrassed because of this around him. He'd be greatly amused after a while by them mistaking him for their dad.

WN Eclipse would be a really sore spot for them, because that1s a child version of their brother! One they never got to have! They'd be jelaous on their brother's part, however they would be the nicest with that kid. They'd look after the tiny, angry, rayed creature to the best of their abilities. They'd find him sweet and he'd find them weird, because what do you mean there's a Bloodmoon who's technically older than their Eclipse? He'd try to big brother them same as with his baby siblings, and they'd indulge him.

Bloodmoon would be nice with WN Sun, who'd thus like them, and a gremlin with WN Moon, who's mostly just annoyed by them. Same as with their uncles. Only they have to be more careful with them, cuz they're fragile.

They wouldn't know what to do with Earth, unfamiliar as they are with their dimension's verison of her, so they'd be mistrustful. They wouldn't feel comfortable with her, and she'd respect their wishes. They'd eventually warm up to her, but not without a hefty amount of cookie bribes.

WN Lunar would immediately steal their heart, and they'd let the tiny kid nap in their nightcap. Lunar would just be happy to have this cool pillow that moves. Whenever he clambers on top of them, they freeze like how some people do when cats climb onto them.

Lunar

Lunar would find the toddler version of himself boring. Because this tiny thing can't even do anything! WN Lunar however would want to always climb onto the fluffy cape he wears. He'd be glued to him whenever he enters the room.

WN Eclipse, just like with his brothers, would be a punch in a place he didn't even realise hurt. He'd be filled with all sorts of potential scenarios of what sorts of mischief and trouble they could have gotten into, if they had Eclipse as the eldest. But like actually as the eldest. Just them being children together, growing up in the safety of their father and uncles' shadow. Clipsey wouldn't understand what this guy's problem is, and would leave him alone.

WN Earth and Lunar would get along like a house on fire. He's just mischiveous enough to reming her of the nicer parts of life, while he also carries a wiseness with him that comes from being an ancient SCP who got trapped in a prison. She in turn would help him to truly process just what happened with them. She'd also like hugging him because of the fluffy cape.

WN Bloodmoon and him would be troublemakers together too. He'd join the Bloodmoon quartet and just indulge the child with tricks and pranks.

WN Killcode would think he's a child at first, and thus offend him. He'd spend the rest of their time together trying to make ammends while also trying not to laugh. Lunar's just sulking.

WN Sun and Moon would be weirded out by an adult version of their charge, when all they have is the toddler version. Especially because they look so starkly different. He's greatly amused in turn by their shock. He'd milk all the amusement he can get out of that.

Moon

WN Moon and Moon would be on sight violence. They both hate themselves, they're both somewhat murderous and they both have anger issues. They'd hate each other.

WN Sun and him on the other hand would sometimes awkwardly slip into the sibling dynamic. He'd be especially protective over this version of Sunny, because he's so fragile. Sun would just feel embarrassed around him for calling him his brother.

WN Eclipse would judge him quite harshly, especially based on his own knowledge of their Moon, which'd hit hard for him. Because there's the kid version of his nephew, and he apparently hates him already. It'd take a while for him to realise the kid is just suspicious of him.

WN Bloodmoon and Lunar would remind him of all the parts he hates about children. They're loud, they need loads of attention and they're so unpredictable. He doesn't know why he seems to be such a magnet for the brats, especially when he threatens to toss them in the air quite a lot whenever they're near him. Them laughing and shrieking in joy when he delivers on the threat is just giving him a headache.

WN Earth and him would be awkward around each other, and they truly wouldn't move past general politeness. They talk if they're in the same room, but they're not each other's first choice of company.

WN Killcode would be annoyed by his big brotherly behaviour, and Moon would find it amusing. They'd be little shits to each other, and KC would be shocked to notice he's been adopted as a younger brother. Moon would be greatly amused when he realises.

Sun

WN Sun and Earth and SEA Sun would be besties who talk about cats and other cute animals together while they're sewing. They'd each be gossiping about their own family, which'd result in the lot sometimes giggling while looking at someone. He'd also feel the need to guide these two young animatronics, becoming something like a mentor.

WN Moon would be shocked by a Sun who has his shit as together as SEA Sun, but ultimately happen there's at least one world where his twin seems to get the room to grow into a confident and amusing person without all the anxiety coming with almost dying everyday. He wouldn't know what to do when SEA Sun begins acting brotherly towards him. Sun on his part is just worried about this overtly tired and withdrawn Moon.

WN Killcode still wouldn't appreciate being treated like a brother. But he can't stop it. Sun and Moon have found a different dimensional version of their baby brother, and he's just so precious! They must tease him!

WN Bloodmoon would look up to him, because this Sunman is cool! Sun would just be greatly amused by the kid before him. It's like his nephew being a child all over again. Only this one's tinier and now he can take pictures.

Lunar would melt his heart and they could be often found napping together. He'd cuddle that toddler whenever. It's unstoppable. Good thing WN Lunar thinks he's a great bed

WN Eclipse would be a bittersweet sight for him. He's all too aware, just like everyone else, how his nephew never had this for himself. And the part where one could argue he was a child was spent in probably horrible circumstances. Clipsey wouldn't understand why all these people are sad because of him, and would just generally avoid Sun. He doesn't like how they're all sad when they look at him.

Welp this took a while! Hope this is actually what you wanted and I didn't misunderstand you. Feel free to correct me if I did! Sorry it took this long to answer!

[goodolddumbbanana]

Nexus to Moon: dramatic, mysterious, evil.

He is the monster. He forced me kneel, he hurts me, he makes me relived of all my mistakes. I couldn't fight him and the worst of it..... I. Scared. Of. Him.

Nexus to Sun: Bitch wants me to work for him and gets mad when I say no. Also... Cringe.

I am sorry but, has anyone felt a really drastically shift tones between Moon and Sun when they interact with Nexus?

Like Nexus really wants to hurt Moon, badly. He does not hesitate to cram his hands inside Moon's head, and mocks Moon for everything he did. It was intense, and we can feel it is Nexus the one who is in the control. And that Moon will not do or can try anything.

Also Moon gets kneel down and tortured pretty quick after that. Also he seems very scared of Nexus after each time he interacted with Nexus.

But Sun... I don't know man... I think I had made Nexus cooler in my head.

He is just so cringe. (THE GOD thingy makes me die a little bit whenever I hear him screaming that name)

I couldn't see the monster who hurt Moon with the way he was chasing Sun around and Sun just kept running like it is no ends tomorrow.

(Lmao dude just straight up pulling Naruto run on Nexus, really reminds me back then, of the times when Sun doing something stupid and Nexus just angrily yelling ran after him.)

And even when he had Sun at the corner, he couldn't say anything 'emotional damage' to Sun.

"What ... Are you insane?!"

"Yeah. I thought it was pretty obvious."

And baby girl is so obsessed with the fact he is no longer Moon, he thinks it is him who is still the one Sun calls for help. Which is sad and funny both at the same time.

Like we can feel a tiny small hesitant in Nexus's voice when Sun keeps saying 'Moon', like he thought Sun wants him to stop.

And how the issue gets dragged on the surface. Sun always feels like he couldn't help Nexus and Nexus also feels like he couldn't let Sun help him. (Because the same old story, Sun got hurt and kidnapped whenever he came with Nexus.)

"So now I have value for you?"

"Yeah, for once in your miserable life, you have value."

It is sad when they come back at each other like this. Especially when Nexus always says that he needs Sun back in the day.

"You had friends, you had a family. They love you."

Sun loves him. He still loves Nexus. He didn't want Nexus dead is one thing, but he seems so worried about Nexus (accidentally calling him Moon when seeing him got shot) and tries to make Monty stop shooting. Even after Nexus runway, Sun - the one who gets so infected by Negative Star power, still wants to know if Nexus is okay.

And when he was back at home, he wasn't even scared of Nexus, not like how he used to be terrified of Eclipse or Killcode or even when he interacts with Dark Sun. He seems just pissed and done at himself, and not even with Nexus.

"I didn't have friends. I was a replacement."

Nexus didn't consider Monty his friend. I mean it is totally understandable, especially when they hijacked his head before. But replacement... Really? Sure maybe at first with Sun, but what about Earth? She didn't know jack about you?

"Maybe at first, but I liked you."

Haha... Remember when Nexus said he was very appreciative of how Sun loved him more than Moon? Haha... Good times ...

"oh my..., cuz I was nicer to you."

"because you are nice."

"because I didn't beat you.... Guess what Sunny, you are nothing but a tool for me..."

He throws away any good things he did for Sun. He burned all their memories, and saw himself as a monster. He tried to make himself a monster towards Sun, and when seeing it didn't work, because Sun doesn't care about how horrible he is now, he straight down Sun with the 'I don't care about you' attitude.

"You know what... You are not worse than Moon. Hell you are not even better..."

'You are just exactly like Moon. ' I think it is what Sun wants to say. They are both so stuck in their own minds, never wanting to hear what other people say, what people are trying to prove they are so much better than this.

"I am me! NONE OF YOU COULD REALISE, I AM MY OWN PERSON!!!"

"I tried."

"No you didn't. You USED me. And now I am going to use you."

"I am sorry."

His voice seems so small. He sounds so heartbroken when he says sorry to Nexus, like we can feel the thought process behind Sun. He truly thinks everything happened was his fault, it is Sun's fault leading Nexus to become like this.

"Your apologies don't mean anything to me."

And Nexus sounds so wanting to move one, to get done with his job, to stop talking about the past. It doesn't matter if Sun says sorry or not, because he doesn't care. He doesn't want to care.

And the term he used... Dragging Sun into his lab and plug he into the machine, to let him never do any of his own will ever again....

What does Nexus think Sun will do with his own will? Like what exactly can Sun do? Yapping at his ears until it bleeds? Sun doesn't have any manipulated skills at all, he is so straightforward and honest to actually harm Nexus from behind, like, Nexus just needs to highjack Sun's head like Moon.

From my perspective, I think there are a lot of methods to let Sun do as Nexus plead, but Nexus only wants to stop thinking about Sun. Like if he fully controlled over Sun, he will not have to think about how Sun is disappointed in him anymore, He will not have to think of Sun as a human being, as his ex brother, as someone still cares about him.

And when Sun says he will not do as Nexus says? Nexus sounds didn't surprise at all. They understand each other too well to know even Sun sometimes a coward, he will not give up like that for Nexus.

Also... Why did he not just threaten Moon? Or Dazzle? Or Jack? Just like how he mocks Solar?

Did he not want his older brother to think of him lower?

"...I have you kneel at me, right ? So look at your superior being."

The way Nexus said that, it makes me feel sad. Like, Nexus so wants to cut off Sun, to make Sun think of him as a monster, to hurt Sun not even in the way it matters.

He still couldn't hit Sun at his lowest, I mean, back then, Old Moon even worse with Sun both emotionally and physically back in the days.

Even after so much nonsense craps, Sun still unharmed. He tortured Moon, he mocked Solar, but Sun.... There is no win in this fight.

Their fighting still looks so much more than their so used banter before... I wish Nexus and Sun will be still brothers ;.;

Sidenote: I love that Ruin tries to convince Nexus to think more with his head but just ends up giving up like : oh right, screw you then, asshole.

Very baby girl behaviour of him.

[tikobithelich]

Redesigning Characters is fun

(Gives Pre-Death Nexus Hip Windows)

(Gives Solar a snatched twink waist)

(Made Killcode a true massive monster)

(Made Bloodmoon V2 Chonky)

(4 Armed Eclipse)

[moonlit-dreamers]

Can you rate all Eclipse ships?

*rubs my grubby hands together* i abso-fuckin-lutely can

the lower they go doesnt mean "i despise it" (unless specified) its just that i dont find it interesting/dont personally ship it/never think about it. this also wont include poly ships bc then i just Wouldnt Stop. btw im not gonna edit this so if some shit is typed wrong then uh . sucks ig hjgfjhfh

eclipse/solar - 10/10 - nothing could be better than this. this is my otp above sun/eclipse. nothing can be improved upon bc it is perfect. learning to love urself by loving another version of urself? SIGN 💥 ME 💥 UP 💥

eclipse/sun - 10/10 - second thing i ever shipped (first was sun/solar <3) and its stuck with me ever since. enemies to lovers. wonderful. scrumptious

lord eclipse/sunvant - 10/10 i say this counts to be added to the list bc i fucking can. theyre also my otp. toxic codependency. sunvant having pure blind devotion to lord eclipse despite everything hes done to hurt him? GHOD

eclipse/sunbeam - 8/10 - grumpy cat x golden retriever. or maybe a yorkie with how much sun yaps ghdfghfgh. he'd probably act so fucking annoyed with how much sunbeam yaps but in reality he actually pays attention to all of it bc despite how little of it makes sense its actually entertaining

eclipse/moonshine - 8/10 - theyre nerds that kiss each other. they work on games and random projects together. theyre wonderful

eclipse/ruin - 8/10 - okay im actually writing these out of order and i was almost done THEN FUCKING FORGOT THIS. toxic yaoi at its finest. while ruin is still forcing eclipse to work for him he gets Silly™️ and just goes "i can do whatever i want and nobody will stop me" and ofc he does. if that includes torture or messing with him until his mind breaks then thats up to you. would this be accurate to canon ruin? absolutely not. do i care? fuck no <3

eclipse/dark sun - 7/10 - ADDING THIS IN EDITING BC I WAS FUCKING STUPID AND FORGOT THEM OTL. this the good shit. toxic yaoi. i have thoughts but theyre all gone rn idk wtf happened to them so imagine i made a shitty summary of a fucked up scenario

eclipse/old moon - 7/10 - gwuh creator/creation beloved. idk man. it could either be healing and fluff or angst and toxic. you pick <3

eclipse/solarflare - 7/10 - again. creator/creation. im unwell. AND YET ANOTHER COULD BE TOXIC OR FLUFFY. me thinks onesided pining from sf while eclipse is either oblivious or ignores it would be fun. OR they both use it as a chance to explore bc why not :3

eclipse/earth - 6/10 - not my favorite but its good for fluffy shit. idk why but every time i decide to doodle eclipse being flustered its always with earth. she just appears and makes it her job. idk what to do my hands just move on their own

eclipse/nexus - 5/10 - lower than old moon bc i just dont find it as interesting

eclipse/lunar - 5/10 - personally not that interested in it. but if you bring it up in the middle of a conversation another alter WILL come running over. he responds to it faster than his own damn name. ask him and he'd start going OFF.

eclipse/ballora - 4/10 never think about it but it could be fun

eclipse/bloodmoon - 4/10 - think it could be fun. again, could be toxic or fluffy.

eclipse/killcode - 4/10 - yet another "good ship but not personally interested". tho i think it could be fun. giant soft monster x angry small creature

eclipse/puppet - 3/10 - i like it more than puppet/foxy but thats only bc its eclipse added. i just. i dont like puppet. shes getting better but for a while she was SO annoying to me and i just. my opinion is tainted 😔

eclipse/vincent - 2/10 - i can see it? maybe? who fuckin knows lol

eclipse/anyone else - 1/10 - im just lumping everyone else into one thing so i dont go on forever. basically just the "never thought about it and probably wont continue thinking about it" ships

[bloodmoon-daycare]

Bloody: *Happily playing with Artic, Flower, BPB Bloody, and every other child there*

Scythe: *stuck with Killcode due to previously getting impaled through the stomach; asked Killcode to take him to...'the monster'*

Killcode: *protectively looking for 'the monster' while holding Scythe*

Eclipse: *chatting with BDB Sun; feeling emotionally numb*

Sun (BM's/KC's/Eclipses): *Sleeping with a bunch of different BM's; sorta got sick and accidentally had them emotionally attached to him beforehand*

((Oh boy a lot of scenes here we go, the scenes will be separated by these /////, the last one I don’t know how to respond to))

*is in the pool so they are all in the pool, luckily it’s shallow enough on one side and heated for the others, chirping and squeaking happily*

*isn’t allowed in the pool just yet so is napping in a rocking crib*

*sitting down in the water giggling and babbling, sometimes speaking about family*

*in the deeper section, sitting under the water just looking around*

/////

*is sitting in a park, staring off, seems to be deep in thought as he is fidgeting with a pen*

/////

*is more focused on keeping an eye on the kids ,especially BDB, in the pool*

[gummy-sunnybear]

MONSTER GOOBER!!!!

How do we feel about palworld? What about a pal KC? No? Too bad, I like palworld (fun to build see all the cute lil creatures being lil guys or big guys, idc if it’s like a Pokémon rip off, Pokémon hasn’t been fun for me in years)

But anyways, pal KC, he sees all and it’s practically impossible to catch him :3

Also Sun in this AU, he looks more human and has rays still they just look like a crown :D, also yes I know he looks kinda like pure vanilla cookie from cookie run kingdom, he looked even more like pv cookie with the hair colour I was planning on giving him so I made him have strawberry/redish blonde hair, why this colour? It’s a cute hair colour

Sun doesn’t like hurting pals and often stays in the lower level areas, he has a spear for when it’s needed like if bad people try attacking him or pals, one day Moon dragged him to a higher level area, they get separated and Sun encounters KC, Sun runs from him because “oh no! It’s a big high level pal! It’s going to kill me!”, Sun manages to get away but always feels like he’s being watched now, poor Sun, let’s hope KC doesn’t torment him too much

Bloodmoon twins are in this AU, I’ll probably show them later

Also size comparison between Sun and KC

[catspawcreates]

Happy MerMay all!

Redo of my KillCode angler fish sketch from last year. 💘

[theallianceofcelestials]

This is a post that is probably not gonna be well recieved, but oh well lol. Gotta let these things out too.

I miss Moon, and I meant the Old one. He was a funky character, even if he had many faults. The fact that his final wish came true, a version of him that would treat Sun better, in the form of New Moon, makes it a little bittersweet.

I'm ultimately happy Old Moon can rest, and that New Moon got the chance to live, because he's a sweety who deserves good things, and does not deserve the stress he is placed under thanks to certain forces.

But alas, this is time to go down memory lane, cuz I've been seeing people hate on Old Moon, and while yeah sure he did terrible things, he was ultimately not the monster New Moon and some fans make him out to be.

Because whenever I see someone say Old Moon was never a good brother, I sometimes begin to think if we've watched the same show or not. Yeah, he was more times a questionable brother than not, but he did have his fair share of sweet moments, even if the circumstances, which lead to his bitterness, hatred and depression, rarely let such softness shine through.

Remember how in the first SCP video, which was in VRCHAT, when Sun ran through the Tesla gate, Moon immediately went "Good job brother"? Or when later in the same video, after looking at SCP-096 or 'Shy guy', when it starts going into it's murderous rage, Sun's panicking, and Moon says: "Brother, brother! I'm okay! It's okay! Brother, I'm here!"?

Remember when Eclipse first appeared, in the "Sun and Moon TRANSFORM into ECLIPSE in VRCHAT", Sun quietly asked if he was going to die, and Moon immediately went: "No, no! Out of anything, I won't let that happen!"? He offered to go back, to be back to square one in the same body, which we know is basically his worst trauma, because he didn't want his brother to die. His brother being alive, was more important to him, than his own freedom.

Remember when in the Wither Storm Saga 3rd episode, when Moon's in a panic about the bomb not killing the Wither Storm, Sun calms him down, and brings up how the book can be used for something else probably, and how that leads to Moon figuring the solution out WITH Sun, both leading one another? Remember how Moon said to Sun: "You tiny little genius!"? How sweet he sounded while doing it?

Remember when in the lore video directly after the Wither Storm Saga, how Moon said if he ever gets into an episode like Beta-10 again, that Sun get someone else immediately, because he doesn't want to hurt Sun?

Remember when in the video "Eclipse TRAPPED Sun and Moon in The BACKROOMS! in VRCHAT" the light suddenly went out, and Sun went into a panic, the way Moon gently guides his brother towards the light? Calmly and softly saying "Over there, over there"?

Remember when in the video "The DEATH of SUN and MOON in VRCHAT", how Moon just quietly says "I don't wanna lose you"? Or when he cuts off an anxious and unsure Sun, to say "I love you too brother"? When he says to Eclipse in front of Sun, "You are gonna take away the only thing, the only person I care about"? When he says that Lunar isn't fighting him for control, because he knows the moment Sun is gone, Moon will just give up? His quiet admitance that he did not want Sun to think less of him? How when he promises Sun, that he will get him back, they are holding hands? Something that Moon hates, and he will freely do for his brother, because his brother is more important than his own discomfort. Because even if he did mistakes, he loves Sun more than anything.

Was he perfect? No. No he wasn't. He did terrible things, for no reason at all at times. But he wasn't just a monster. He was a person placed in a terrible situation, with a code in his head telling him to do horrible things, and before KC, we did not know it was possible to go against one's nature, one's coding, one's very own being, and yet, Moon fought his killcode. He fought what was essentialy a loosing battle, and came out battered and bruised, with victories that were only temporary. But he still did it, because there was a person (later persons), who wanted him around. And because of that he made damn sure to fight his nature everytime.

Could he have been better? Yes.

Did he treat Sun terribly? At times yes!

Were some of his actions truly horrible? They were.

But was he a heartless monster, who cared for no one? No. No, he wasn't.

He was a person, trying to live, with everything stacked against him and his brother from the very begining. And he immensely fucked up. No question about that.

But he did care

(Sorry about the long, depressive post lol. Got into a mood, and wanted to get the depression off my chest for a bit. But yeah, I love this guy. He was funky. The New Moon is funky. Sun is funky. Lunar is funky. KC is funky. Eclipse is funky. Ruin is funky. Bloodmoon is funky. New Bloodmoon (I call that one Harvest(moon), and yes, I differentiate between them, cuz they be different. sue me) is funky. Earth is funky. Solar is funky. Solar Flare is funky. Everyone is funky. And I love them all.)

[starrydust-npc]

Reveal of Mystery Siren #3: 'Sea Dragon'/Undiscovered Species Killcode I know you're probably thinking that this isn't a known extinct species for a turned siren to possibly become. The reason being is that not every single species that lived in the ocean has been discovered, yet their 'memory' remains in the waters and can still influence the turning process. In Killcode's case, his tail is of a species of extinct marine reptiles that had resurged post-dinosaurs from tiny land ancestors that survived the meteor strike. The species went extinct during humanity's first decades of sailing across the oceans, giving the rise of tales about 'sea monsters' with this creature known as 'Sea Dragons'. There are other undiscovered, extinct creatures that inspired stories like the Kraken for example. Killcode is the oldest and largest of the primal sirens currently. When he was young he was very aggressive towards others and had sunk many boats which often resulted in his many injuries. Nowadays he's calmer and prefers to stay away from human-filled coasts and waters. He allows some sirens to live in his territory under his protection and some traveling through to rest, but he won't hesitate to outright maim a cocky upstart if he's pushed.

[goodolddumbbanana]

Something about you are fated to be the monster. And something about it is so easy to break a Moon

I just realised something... The main reason why Moon didn't fuck himself over that bad just like Nexus is simply because back then, he had Sun as his hatred burning passion.

He was so focused on tortured Sun while letting his Killcode activated. He had his murder as his outlet, he had Sun as his outlet. His emotions for highest and lowest still in his control because someone helped him to release it.

Because when we look at it, Nexus lost Solar just like how Moon killed these kids, killed Jonathan by accident. They both hold a lot of guilt leading them to their breakdown.

Like how Moon wanted to die to get rid of these guilts, Nexus worked himself in despair with a little sparkling of realised no matter what him do, he couldn't protect and save anyone and then end up pushing everyone away

(He killed Eclipse, Eclipse comes back. Earth lost her body when he wasn't there, Sun got kidnapped multiple times, and died in his dream. Losing Solar just a final hit in his nail.)

Because Nexus, Nexus has no one. Dude just freshed-out woke up and had to face Eclipse right after that, and then a lot of craps too. He didn't have his outlet, always has to be better than the old one. And remember, Creator builds Moon to be a monster, a beast.

And we can unclip the wing of that beast, but couldn't change his nature. We had seeb the Moon who killed his Sun, he got so bottom in his hatred. Also, Moon has left half of his issue for eclipse and kc. He has scraped one piece by piece the thing that makes him insane.

But Nexus. He is a fresh new Moon. All his problems and issues are still inside his code.

And this revives Moon, he still has his Killcode, which means, the potential of him gone bad, once again happened. Which means, if Moon doesn't go Cray Cray, he will do something worse .

So.... Murder good for your health, I guess.

[animatronic-assistant]

*Killcode scoots his tall ass over*

You wanna see baby pictures of grim and reaper? Hi i am killcode i am bloodmoon's father

( @monster-underdabed )

(Mod: real quick. KC looks like a taller and infinitely more deadly version of Moon so please don't be mad at how Elara is going to react)

Elara looks at this tall and terrifying Moon look-a-like, with sharp teeth and claws and immediately panics, curling up into a ball trying to look as small and non threatening as possible.

Pl-please... I am sorry. Please forgive me. I am sorry Moon.

She thinks it is Moon.

[moonlit-dreamers]

Can you rate all TSAMS Sun ships?

im gonna be careful with this one so im gonna try and avoid the ships that might be/are "incestuous" since i quite enjoy having friends and staying out of drama. once more ill probably forget some character so i apologize </3 (last post i fucking forgot dark sun im so sorry augh). also leaving out poly ships bc, again, this would go on Forever. AND ALSO same as before, the lower the rating the less i ship it and it isnt about me "disliking" it but rather not personally enjoying it

sun/eclipse - 10/10 - there is soooo much flexibility with this ship istg. probably why i always come back to it lol. it can be toxic, abusive, fluffy, enemies to lovers, fix-it, etc. *slaps suneclipse* you can fit so many dynamics in this bad boy

sun/solar - 10/10 - its on equal footing with sun/eclipse especially bc its the first ship i had in this fandom (tho i was very shy </3) cuz its just. ITS SO GOOD! its wonderful hurt/comfort and helping each other heal from the past they had with different versions of the other while also acknowledging that they arent the same and thats what makes them Better

sun/dark sun - 9/10 - do i just like selfcest? yes. yes i do. i think dark sun should let sun go apeshit and they take over the world while holding hands and kissing send post

sun/sunbeam - 8/10 - something something learning from an alternate/older version of yourself. i feel like sun would be able to guide sunbeam through a lot of things bc he understands sunbeam in a way others cant. or maybe i just like selfcest-

sun/moonshine - 7/10 - honestly i dont really Have any ideas for this ship but. i like them. i think itd be cute

sun/ruin - 7/10 - i think they could fix each other /j ghfskgjdfhg in all seriousness itd be fun. again, no ideas, but i like it

sun/solarflare - 6/10 - it most certainly has potential. lil guy with lots of energy x big emotionless robot learning about the world.

sun/foxy - 4/10 - i used to be a HUGE kidscove shipper but then i got bored after i started being more active with dca/dca ships in this fandom. i still think its fun and cute, i just dont like it anymore *shrug*

sun/bloodmoon - 4/10 - i can kinda see it? idk. maybe with v1 bloodmoon but v2? eh? idk man i just watch ppl clump rocks together on the playground and i sit there like "i have no fucking clue what theyre doing but theyre having fun with their rocks" and thats pretty much how i feel about this ship ghjfdghdk

sun/killcode - 3/10 - head empty so i got no comment </3 but i Do see the appeal of big monster x lil guy.

sun/monty - 3/10 - meh. not that interested in it. tho in general i dont really enjoy ships as much if they arent dca/dca rghsrgrgkj but yeah with this its an eh for me

sun/puppet - 2/10 - out of genuine curiosity- does anyone ship this? idk if ive seen it before so i feel like this is some ultra-rarepair shit. shout out to you if you ship this

i feel like im forgetting some ppl but thats okay cuz i can edit them in later when i remember who it is while im trying to sleep <3

[maccreadysbaby]

there's a little synopsis of a quiet place under the cut for my bentley followers that have no clue what I'm on about!! 9000 words later lmao, the quiet place au is finished!!! ALSO WERE GOING BACK BABY BENTLEY MY PEEPS, HES 10 AGAIN IN HERE 🥹🥹

Project: Killcode Drabbles

tw: violence & gore

wanna read the extended fic? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT PART OF BENTLEY’S MAIN STORYLINE, THIS BENTLEY INSERTED INTO AN AU (ALTERNATE UNIVERSE.)

brief overview of A QUIET PLACE:

A Quiet Place is a sci-fi/horror movie series originally directed by John Krasinski, in which aliens crash into earth via a meteor. They spread quickly, and are extremely strong, agile, and resilient. They’re completely blind, but they can hear as much as an unsteady breath across massive distances and likewise get extremely violent towards anything that makes even the slightest noise. Not many people survived, and the ones who did… may not be the lucky ones.

Bentley Whittaker was 9 when the meteor hit. The monsters were probably twice as tall as him, and no one could have ever stressed enough just how the tiniest of sounds could kill.

photos for your imagination ↴

THE “MONSTERS” - formally called death angels, but Bentley only calls them “aliens” or “monsters”

TEN-YEAR-OLD BENTLEY WHITTAKER WALKED DOWN THE GOTHAM STREETS SLOWLY, ONE STEP AT A TIME, LISTENING.

It was a thirty-six degree overcast afternoon. The city was dead silent apart from the subtle howl of wind that came and went every now and then. 

Debris was blowing softly across the street, piled full of crashed cars and decomposed bodies reduced to nothing but clothes and what looked like ashes. The electricity in most places was shot. It had been since the meteors fell, since the monsters got there and started to rip apart and kill every single thing that made the slightest bit of noise. 

Most of the buildings lining the streets were mere bones of what they had been, the windows shattered, doors ripped off, and some of the walls entirely collapsed — undoubtedly by the creatures ripping them apart, seeking prey that’d been inside. People.

Bentley stepped cautiously, holding tight to his father’s bloody shotgun that was far, far too big for his little hands. It was nearly his height, and probably his weight, too. An old blue bag sat on his back, the zipper haphazardly cut out and replaced by a myriad of safety pins to eliminate the sound. (It was the biggest backpack ever, his father had said once. Good for the end of the world.) 

He was wearing three jackets, all thin and soft instead of puffy and loud, and cargo pants he’d gotten for his birthday a few months ago that almost covered his feet. His shoes, dirty and torn red tennis shoes, were wrapped in thin cloth cut from his old sheets so the soles didn’t make noise against the concrete.

The monsters could hear a pin drop. They could hear an unsteady breath. They could hear everything.

Which was unfortunate, because Bentley was out of food. He’d gone as long as he could without it, attempting to substitute with other things like water and uncooked rice that were left inside the Whittaker Estate, but now he was really hungry, and therefore forced out of hiding and into the city. Where absolutely everything made noise.

It was strange to see Gotham abandoned. He hadn’t been there since before the monsters showed up — once, with his father on business. It was bigger than Drew, and had more places to get supplies, which was why he was there. Not a soul remained in the streets now; the city was a sad, lifeless husk, nothing more than a graveyard. Bentley’d wondered… Why didn’t the monsters eat their kills? Were they just slaughtering humans for fun?

Bentley missed when people were everywhere. The world was so quiet now… he was so lonely. People used to make him nervous, but now, he would probably kill for the chance to be with someone else. 

He kept walking, keeping his breathing slow and shallow, exhales rising in front of his face as clouds of vapor. His feet were falling in very precise, very calculated heel-to-toe steps. He’d learned quickly that it was the quietest way he could walk.

There was a corner store coming up at the end of the block that his father had taken him into, the one time they’d been to Gotham together. Not just out of the goodness of his heart, though — it’s because Bentley was sick and his father was pissed off that he’d even think about throwing up in a Maserati. He shoved him into a corner store bathroom, went home, and sent some men to pick him up later.

Bentley was really upset at him, then… but now, he guessed it was an advantage to know where the store was. 

Plus, he couldn’t be mad at his father anymore. He glanced down at the shotgun splayed with blood and grimaced, inhaling lightly. No, he couldn’t be mad at him at all.

He continued to walk in silence. A piece of newspaper clipping blew across the street near his feet, and the headline was something about baseball. Bentley had never seen anyone play baseball, nor did he know the premise of the game, but he missed it. He guessed it was normal to miss stuff from before the world started ending, though. Even if he never really saw it.

Suddenly, one of the shutters on a nearby building started blowing in the wind, hitting the the brick with soft clacks every few seconds that made Bentley’s anxiety thrum within his veins, his heart quicken in his chest. Everything was silent except that shutter, clacking above him, seemingly deafening in the dead Gotham street.

He closed his eyes and held his breath, pausing his movement to listen. He counted from zero to ten Mississippi. Nothing moved. Nothing made any noise — no pounding feet, no chittering, no growling… nothing.

So he resumed walking, but at a slightly more brisk pace than before.

Maybe ten minutes of that passed before the corner store finally came into view. The front was blown out, the doorway nothing more than a large hole in the brick, and all the windows were shattered, but… the inside looked intact.

So he moved for the door, keeping his footfalls silent, stepping over debris and parts of cars and bodies that he didn’t dare look at until he made it to the blown out front wall and peered inside.

The entire thing seemed coated with concrete dust and ashes, but there were also supplies left on the shelves.

With a quiet exhale, he glanced down at his shoes, at the ground. There was a pile of ruined brick blocking the doorway (that was really just a massive hole in the wall), too large to step over and definitely something he couldn’t step on without making noise. He took a step back and glanced at one of the nearby windows. There were only two in the whole store, small, and on either side of the door.

He moved for the one on the left. Most of the glass was blown out of it, a few shards lying outside but most scattered on the floor inside.

So Bentley stepped over to it and inhaled.

He took his backpack off and carefully lifted it through the window, laying it gently on the other side. He did the same to his shotgun, carefully laying it atop the bag so it didn’t make any noise against the concrete floor.

He exhaled. Well, his turn.

Ever-so-slowly he lifted his right foot, holding his breath and swinging it over the windowsill at a glacial pace. It was pretty high, so he had to sort of push himself up to sit on it, holding on tight to the edges while he brought his other foot over. 

He set his feet on the floor gently, and-

CRUNCH. The shards of glass on the floor cracked under his weight.

He flinched, ducking beneath the windowsill as quickly and silently as he could. With a flare of terrible pain and a little tearing sound he could hear in the silence that Gotham had become, a piece of glass still stuck in the window frame sliced his left hand open from his wrist all the way down between his middle and ring fingers.

He slapped his right hand over his mouth as a pained noise threatened to escape him, his eyes involuntarily brimming with tears. He sank down into the floor of the building silently, tucking his bloody arm close to his chest. His entire hand was throbbing and burning and already drenched in red that made him kind of dizzy to look at.

Something hit the ground with a fleshy thump outside.

There were no words for how hard Bentley’s heart was pounding, threatening to break out of his chest all together. The reflex tears in his eyes quickly became real and started streaming down his face. With a deep, guttural set of clicks, he heard the monster’s feet as it walked, away from the window but toward the door.

He choked down every sob that threatened to force it's way out and stayed eerily still, holding his breath for as long as he could, breathing in and out, then holding it again.

The next time the monster took a step, a loud sound came along with it that he recognized as the bricks at the door, sliding and falling against each other.

Something moved in Bentley’s peripheral, and he closed his hand over his nose and mouth, forcing himself not to breathe.

He saw the monster’s head peer into the building. Its front legs, lanky and insanely long in an unnerving type of way came to rest on either side of the hole in the wall, its long, narrow claws clicking against the brick there. Its head, covered by probably a dozen or more plates of armor, swiveled this way and that, the armor plates opening up like some kind of horrifying flower to reveal the fleshier inside of its head. Bentley knew that when they did that, they were listening. 

He stayed dead silent, forcing his body not to move, forcing his lungs to burn for just a little longer, forcing everything to shut down and stop as best he could. Could it hear his heart trying to break out of his body? Could it hear the sobs trying to rip up his throat?

His stomach growled.

The monster whipped its head around to face him directly, no longer chittering but making a deep, ear-splitting hiss.

Bentley didn’t move.

He didn’t move when it came fully inside the building, propelling itself forward by using its long arms to grab walls and shelves, shooting across the distance with speed uncanny to anything else. It knocked over shelves and slashed a few magazine racks across the room as it came directly. Toward. Him.

Bentley curled up a little tighter, and when it was mere feet from him, it-

CLACK! Something hit something else outside. CLACK! And again. It was faint, but Bentley could hear it, and the monster paused with its wide jaws full of serrated teeth a mere foot from his face, turning to the window and opening its plates to listen.

CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!

The shutter. It was the shutter, from down the road.

With a terrifying screech, the monster all but lumbered out the window right over Bentley’s head, its back leg brushing his hair right before it slammed on the road and skidded away like a car drifting on ice.

The sounds of its thundering footsteps faded away, and for a long time, Bentley just sat there, crying silently.

After a while, he reached over and unpinned his bag, shifting things around until he found a small cylinder of unpackaged bandage. He unrolled it and wrapped it around his arm and hand tightly, over and over until he could tuck it in somewhere.

He didn’t get up until the sun was going down, because the temperature had dropped a solid ten degrees and he was starting to go numb. 

He forced himself off the floor — freezing up and freaking out wouldn’t serve him well anyways. He couldn’t afford it, not in this world. Not anymore.

 Stepping carefully around the glass and debris, he went further into the store. The whole place was run down, and sort of looked like someone had picked out of it before. 

The first aisle, the one closest to the door, had household items. Bentley scanned the shelves, stepping lightly, and settled on grabbing a packaged toothbrush, a pair of large metal scissors, and a can opener, should he ever get his hands on any canned goods. There wasn’t any toothpaste, but he’d survive without it. 

And then he spotted a package on the top shelf — a set of four plastic jars, probably double the radius of a normal jar, with screw-on tops.

There were so many things he could use those for. The only problem was…

They were about four shelves above his head.

He reached up with one arm, pushing up onto his tippy toes, but was still about two shelves off.

With a muted huff, he glanced around the store. There were some baskets up near the ruined door, thick and red. There was also an office chair behind the counter, but he didn’t think that would be safe — it had wheels, and if it rolled out from under him, he was as good as dead.

So, he tip-toed over to the baskets and picked one up silently, shuffling back over to the shelves. He put it on the floor upside-down, then ever-so-slowly put one foot on it. The plastic dipped dangerously, but it didn’t crack or pop, so he went about putting his other foot on it.

When it didn’t break, he carefully lifted his hands up toward the little package of jars. He could barely skim the cardboard they were sitting on with his fingertips. 

He did that a few times, softly nudging the pack until it was almost halfway off the top shelf. The next time he did it, it tipped sideways toward his head, and he was able to carefully slide it off the shelf and into his hands.

He carried it all back over to his bag and tucked the loose things neatly inside. He used his scissors to cut the jars out and prepare to fill them with stuff. All that was in the bottom of his bag currently was a flashlight, a journal and pack of pens, one schoolbook, ammunition for his shotgun, and a fourth jacket, weaved and folded around all the other things so they didn’t make any noise. 

One by one, he took to searching the aisles. He came out with a small first aid kit, two bottles of honey, four full water bottles, and seven cans of food that he was rather proud of already locating the can opener for. Three corn, two peas, and two peaches. There were a lot of chips left, but rightfully so — as appetizing as they sounded, the bags and contents were both so loud they were likely to get him killed on the spot. He did manage to find about a dozen slim jim’s and several bags of lifesaver gummies, which he cut open carefully with his newly acquired scissors and emptied into one of the four plastic jars he’d found. The other three jars ended up holding a bunch of energy bars, two bags of beef jerky, and several packs of those weird orange peanut butter crackers. He cut everything carefully out of its packaging and organized them quietly, shoving all the cans and jars into his bag and weaving the jacket between them so they didn’t knock around, going as far as to take off one of his own to use when the other ran out of slack. He had to dig his flashlight out in the middle of packing up, because the sun was setting more and more.

His bag was much heavier when he slung it on, but he didn’t mind — it was all stuff that would keep him alive, right? He grabbed his shotgun out of the floor and rolled his shoulders back, getting used to holding the weight against his injured hand because he had no other choice.

On the way out of the corner store, he stopped at the checkout and grabbed a bundle of candy bars — the only ones left in the small candy rack, careful not to rustle the packaging. There were also a couple small travel books with crosswords and word searches, three lighters left in a small container, and a mini fridge that was empty besides two plastic bottled electrolyte drinks. He grabbed it all.

He shoved the small books, lighters, and candy in his jacket and pants pockets, and the drinks in the side pockets of his backpack, and then stepped out onto the street, where the vague positivity provided by finding supplies died instantly.

It was now pitch dark outside, the only beam of visible light being the one from his own flashlight. A breeze that chilled him to the bone came and went. How was it that much colder after removing one jacket? He was still wearing two, and a sweater!

Nonetheless, he shivered harshly, watching his breath plume up like smoke in the beam of his flashlight. If there was something he was grateful for, it was that the monsters were blind. He’d be far too afraid to venture into a dark city if they weren’t. Actually, he’d be dead if they weren’t.

He walked for a little bit longer. He debated on heading back to the Whittaker Estate, but walking so far at night wouldn’t be easy, plus the heightened risk of making noise because he couldn’t see anything. And he was just kind of sleepy — he had been walking all day, after all.

He glanced at the buildings as he walked, trying to find a suitable one to sleep in. Most of them were all decrepit and torn to bits, and he didn’t think he could really survive being that cold all night.

He’d walked another entire block before something peaked his interest. A sign, big and yellow, planted on the side of an absolutely massive library: FALLOUT SHELTER, it said, with a nuclear warning sign and arrows pointing into the library.

A bomb shelter? It might not be warm, but it could definitely get him out of the wind. And bomb shelters were super strong, so maybe the monsters wouldn’t be able to get inside…

With a nod of satisfaction, carrying his shotgun in one hand and the flashlight in the other, he pushed toward the library. 

The outside of the building was dusty and worn, and the doors were blown off, but the frames were still intact. There were a few cracks creeping up the walls but nothing serious. Even the sign was still up above the door, and it was supposed to say WHITEHOUSE LIBRARY, he thought, but the letters T, E, and R were missing and lying on the road next to the front door, so it actually said WHIHOUSE LIBARY.

With a soft exhale, he stepped up the three steps toward the doors. Another gust of freezing wind came, urging him through the doorway and into the building.

He stood in the entry and panned the flashlight around, his eyes following the beam of light as he took in the building around him. The whole thing was dusty and lined with cobwebs. Most of the shelves were upright, but there were a few sets near the doors that had fallen over and sprayed their books everywhere. There were a few dead bodies near the doors, but he promptly chose to ignore them, instead, stepping carefully over books and things on the floor toward the back of the massive room.

He paused for a few minutes and perused some of the aisles, coming across a couple survival tip books and one about cooking. He put them in his bag. Who knows, maybe they’d come in handy one day.

After a few minutes of that, he wandered around until he found the sign for the fallout shelter — with arrows pointing at a basement door that was torn off its hinges and laying uselessly on the floor. There was a walkie talkie duct taped to the wall right above the sign, and the little green light that indicated it was on was glowing.

Bentley found it odd… but the prospect of shelter overshadowed that.

Bentley swallowed quietly, shining his flashlight down the stairs. They were wood, and a few of them had red duct tape stretched across the entire expanse, and in big, black marker, the words DO NOT STEP! were written across it.

Bentley, with an inhale, stepped on the first step gently, applying his weight in very, very slow succession so it didn’t creak. He skipped the steps with red tape, creeping down into the basement. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he could breathe again at the bottom.

He glanced around, cautiously flicking the flashlight around. It seemed sort of damp, and kind of creepy and spidery down there, but alright. On the far left wall, there was a big metal door with a huge spinning handle like a boat. Next to it was the fallout shelter sign.

With a quiet exhale, he moved forward.

There was more red duct tape splayed across the door, this one had the words: LUBRICATE BEFORE OPENING! on it, as though someone had written it on there to remind themselves. At the base of the door sat a can of WD-40, cut in half with a paint brush handle sticking out of the top.

With the furrow of his brows, Bentley grabbed the brush and coated the hinges and handle of the door before he slowly turned the huge circular handle. He waited for it to squeak terribly, but it never did.

He stepped into the bomb shelter, quietly closed the door behind him, and glanced around with his flashlight. It was oddly… warm, inside.

It was rectangular, and larger than he’d expected, with a barrel ceiling lined with metal beams. There were a bunch of army green cots lined against the walls, probably eight of them. A room divider stood at the back of the rectangle, probably closing off a bathroom space or something, and ahead of it were shelves piled with cans and pouches of government-issued rations… but also different things, like the gas station food that Bentley carried around. There was a small fire stove thing that vented up through the ceiling, too, back on the other end of the room.

All of the beds were devoid of bedding besides two — right next to each other in the back corner of the room. They both had pillows and blankets, but the farthest had a stuffed cow, too. There were a couple of large backpacks sitting between those two beds, and a large, long sniper rifle, laying under the one without the stuffed animal. There was a walkie talkie — probably the partner of the one from upstairs -- taped on the wall right at the pillow of that bed.

Bentley crouched, shining his flashlight to get a closer look at the gun. There was ammunition under the bed, too — tons, probably thousands of rounds.

He stood back up with an exhale, glancing around the room again. There was nobody inside, not a soul, so it should be safe for him to crash there for the night, right? Whoever had been staying there was probably dead, anyhow… 

Bentley softly padded to the nearest cot. He shrugged off his bag and sat it carefully on the floor, and then did the same with his shotgun, propping up his flashlight against the wall so it illuminated the room. He sat down on the cot gingerly and, pleased when it didn’t creak or squeak, pushed himself up on it and reached down to unpin his bag.

He fished out a few of the things he’d gotten from the corner store — the jar of beef jerky and some water, the first aid kit, and the journal and pen he’d brought from his home.

The first order of business he went about was opening the first aid kit and checking what was inside. Not much; just the basics, really — bandage, antibiotic ointment, butterfly stitches, gauze, alcohol wipes, cotton balls, that sort of thing. 

With a breath, he began to unwrap his arm. The bandage was already soaking through with blood and sort of sticking to the wound, drawing a soft, pained inhale out of him that he put his injured hand over his mouth to silence. After a few moments of picking the fabric out of the gash, he grimaced and dropped the bloody bandage on the floor.

Silently as he could, he drew the scissors from his bag and cut open the products he needed, wiping his arm down with an alcohol wipe, synching it together with butterfly stitches (which really hurt, by the way.) putting some ointment on it and then wrapping it again, circling his arm and hand in several layers like a mummy. He wasn’t quite sure if that was the right way to do it, because he’d once heard about letting wounds breathe or something like that, a long time ago, but he didn’t care. He’d rather it suffocate and be clean than breathe and get dirty. 

Once he finished that, he took some motrin for the pain and packed all of his first aid stuff back up. He settled in the center of the cot with his beef jerky and the journal. It was a calendar journal that his father had started filling out on the new year to keep up with the dates, since no one really did anymore -- each day had a little square he had to check off, and a space for him to write comments. It was a five-year-journal, but, luckily, only the first two months were filled so far. There were also a few dozen pages of simple lined paper at the back of it that he doodled on sometimes.

With an exhale, he turned to February, checking off Friday, the thirteenth, munching on some jerky. He remembered the rumors of fear that used to surround that day, but now, fear surrounded every day, ruled every moment, counted every second. He missed when Friday the thirteenth was supposed to be scarier than the rest of the days.

His hand hovered blankly over the comments section, swirling his pen around before he started to write. Just the basics.

Third day out of the estate. Colder than before. Made it to central Gotham. Stomach growled and a monster almost killed me in the corner store. Now i’m sitting in an abandoned bomb shelter, and it looks like a nice-

A light on the other end of the shelter flicked on suddenly, and Bentley very nearly fell off the cot.

There was a person over there -- had they come from behind the room dividers? -- holding a bright lantern in their hand. They were tall, and lanky. A man.

Part of Bentley wanted to cry at the sudden discovery of another human being (he hadn’t seen one in so long! The first besides his father in the last seven months!) The other part of him, the sad, rational part, realized that this person was probably going to kill him.

Bentley wasted no time leaning over the bed and swiping his shotgun off the floor, aiming it at them warningly. He’d never pull the trigger. Gunshots were loud. The man probably knew he wouldn’t kill him, too, but it was nice to pretend he had the upper hand.

The man set the lantern down on the floor, lifting his empty hands up near his head to show Bentley he had nothing in them, and was harmless. He looked young, maybe twenties? With this pitch black hair and these crystalline blue eyes that were almost kind of enchanting. Deep, with a glisten of something Bentley couldn’t place swirling in them. He was wearing black sweatpants and a big blue hoodie, covered with two jackets much like Bentley had. He even had on tennis shoes, too. Blue, but not wrapped in cloth like Bentley’s.

Bentley continued to aim his shotgun directly at his face as he drew slightly closer, keeping his hands up and visible. He slowly knelt down to be more Bentley’s height, his eyes flicking to the book Bentley had been writing in. 

He moved one of his hands in a subtle writing motion, pointing at the journal for a moment, then at himself. Bentley had no idea what he meant, and was so focused on not killing this guy but looking like he would that it took a few moments for it to click.

He wanted to write to him, instead of talk.

With his shotgun propped on his leg and still poised for a trigger pull, Bentley turned to one of the lined pages in the back of the journal and held it out to him, along with the pen. The guy took it gently, his eyes scouring Bentley’s face as he began to scribble on it.

Bentley didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t what he got.

Get out. You’re not welcome here.

He glanced at the page, then at the man, who showed little to no emotion regarding shoving an injured ten year old outside in twenty degree weather to die via superhearing aliens. A stab of something like fear, like dread settled in his chest, and he scribbled, handing the book back over a few moments later.

I didn’t know you were here. I just need somewhere to sleep. It’s really cold tonight and there's monsters in the area.

The guy looked at it for a second, before writing back.

No. We’re safer alone. Leave. Now.

Bentley read it and a stubborn burn surfaced behind his eyes. With a faint inhale, he scribbled.

Please. I won’t bother you, and I’m really quiet.

When he got the book back, the message on the page was: No. I’m not a babysitter. You have ten minutes to eat and pack up.

Please, I’m lonely and tired. I won’t bother you. I can give you supplies! was the message he handed back.

No. Leave. Was what he got in return.

Bentley began to scribble the word please again, but the man reached out and touched his hand (much to his horror), stopping the writing in its tracks and closing the book so he couldn’t write anymore. Bentley looked up at him, and he shook his head, a stone cold expression on his face. He pointed roughly at the door and mouthed the words: Get out.

Bentley inhaled lightly, glancing down at his fingers. The first human he’d seen besides his father, the best shelter he’d come across the entire apocalypse, and he was being forced out of it by some guy who very obviously had no soul.

He was lonely. And he was tired. And he was so, so scared. He didn’t want to go back outside… to find somewhere to sleep in the dark and the cold where, if he survived the monsters, he might die in the freezing temperatures instead.

Bentley drew in a shuddery breath, glancing up at the man with tears in his eyes that he couldn’t force away. He mouthed the word: Please.

The man shook his head, pointed at the door, and then walked off, toward the cots on the other end of the room. 

Shit. 

With a few silent, hopeless sobs, Bentley shoved more jerky in his mouth and packed everything up again. The man just sort of sat on the bed that had the sniper rifle under it and watched him, not a hint of regret crossing his features even at the child’s tears.

Once Bentley was all packed up, shotgun and flashlight in hand, he dried his tears and took one last glance at the man, who concluded their short-lived interaction by pointing again at the door.

Bentley wiped his face and turned, heading back to the door and turning the handle, pushing it open. He took one last weary glance at the perfect shelter, and then closed the door, pushed himself back up the stairs silently, and stepped into the library.

It was much colder up there. Like, a solid thirty degrees colder, and Bentley began to shiver vigorously as soon as he made it to the top of the stairs. It was pitch black outside, and silent.

He moved slowly to the back of the library, where he’d spotted a makeshift reading area earlier. It was a conglomerate of old couches and chairs, but he didn’t dare sit on them. Instead, he put his stuff down and settled on the ugly green carpet, curling up to defend against the cold.

And that’s where he laid for the next eleven hours. Freezing his absolute ass off, drifting in and out of light sleep interrupted by unsettling dreams and the terrible cold. By the time the night was over, he could hardly feel his extremities anymore.

But alas, the sun rose, and the temperature went up just enough to give him a little will to live.

He ate some jerky, drank some water, wrote: some guy kicked me out of the bomb shelter to finish off his calendar day from last night, and set off again.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he wanted to hunker down somewhere not too far from central Gotham. It had a lot of good stores and places to get supplies. Maybe there was another bomb shelter… not too far from here? How far apart did the government build them?

With a silent exhale, Bentley padded down the three stairs of the library and into the street. He should check out the next street over, see what shops were on it. His bag was really heavy, but he could probably swing carrying a few more supplies.

Bentley stepped down the road slowly, keeping his footfalls quiet, turning into the alleyway next to the library and heading to the next street over. He had to round a big yellow fire hydrant on the way. The street  looked much like the other — the library had entrances there, too, but the shops were different. He spun to get a look at them, glimpsing a pharmacy and a clothing store that might be handy, as well as a hardware store that could have some useful items inside.

So Bentley went to work, silently, starting at the hardware store, where he took more pens and loads of batteries for his flashlight. The building was mostly intact, so he didn’t have to worry about stepping on glass or stuff like that — the only thing wrong with it was that the door was blown off, nowhere in sight. He managed to find some matches, too, and two extra flashlights.

Next, he went to the clothing store, where he found two more soft but thick jackets that he put on, and one blanket that he was able to roll and strap to his backpack via scissor holes and two belts that had also been in the store. This building had the front wall blown out, too. He thought about grabbing another outfit, but it seemed unnecessary to carry if he was going to settle somewhere nearby. He’d get it later.

And last but not least, the pharmacy.

He stepped quietly up to the front stoop. There was one step up to the entry, and the front door and windows had been reduced to mere holes in the walls, the brick on the front buckling and separating in a way that looked like the whole thing might fall soon.

He crept through the front door, careful to keep his feet away from debris. A pharmacy was basically a gold mine for staying alive. He wished he could just take everything inside with him — because what if he needed it?

Slowly, he crept down the aisles. He ended up grabbing a few more over the counter medicines — liquid only, pills were too loud — for generic colds and flus and stomach bugs. He grabbed a couple things of melatonin gummies, too, and he found a myriad of bandages, which he took a lot of because they were light and relatively small. And some bandaids!

He left feeling good about his haul, heading back out onto the silent street, and-

Crack.

Bentley glanced backwards at the pharmacy building, hoping and praying he’d just imagined that noise…

But he hadn’t.

Suddenly, after being disturbed for apparently its final time, the entire front wall of the pharmacy came down with a deafening crash, sending plumes of dust into the air and all over Bentley, bricks crashing across the road and near his feet.

And he just stood there.

A mangled screech came from somewhere down the road… and then another, a response, and loud hiss from somewhere else, and Bentley…

He ran.

He tried to do so as quietly as he could, but his footfalls were still audible as he shot down the road and back into the alley next to the library. The sound of the monsters thumping down from above and galloping on the road like horses reached his ears and made his heart slam around in his chest. They’d heard him running. They had to have. 

He pushed himself against the brick wall of the alley and put one hand over his mouth, muffling his panicked breathing, holding tightly to his gun with the other. The loud, fast footsteps of the monsters were drawing nearer.

Three of them ran by the alley and were to him nothing more than black splotches in his vision, there one second and gone the next.

But one paused.

He stayed pressed tight against the wall when the monster turned and took a few steps into the alley, hissing lowly. It walked further, and the plates on its head opened up to listen, probably three feet from Bentley’s face, and he was freaking out too much and breathing too loud, and his heart was absolutely pounding, and-

With a terrible screech, the thing lunged for him, and Bentley lifted the shotgun and pulled the trigger.

BANG! went his gun in the middle of the silent city. 

The monster’s body fell limp into him, and he couldn’t help but stumble over due to the weight. Suddenly, his left leg exploded into a terrible, searing pain, the worst he’d ever felt in his life, and he… 

Screamed.

He clapped a hand over his mouth as soon as he realized. The body of the alien he’d shot — blown half of its head off, actually — was looming just above him, it's blood pouring out in droves that coated his clothes and skin. A whole handful of it's claws, it's gigantic, horror story worthy, long, scary claws, had sank into Bentley’s left thigh when it fell on him. He tried to push himself out from under it, but the thing was so heavy, and his leg was hurting so bad, and he couldn’t see because he was crying and he tried to be quiet but he choked out agonized sobs anyways that sounded so deafening in the silent city-

Another one of the monsters blitzed into the mouth of the alley at breakneck speeds, his head wide open to listen for his sounds, and Bentley grabbed onto the fire hydrant at the end of the alley, trying to pull himself out from under the alien, but it wasn’t working, and-

BANG!

The alien's head exploded into a mist of red from a shot he hadn’t taken, and it fell.

Bentley lifted his shotgun up toward his face, turning it to the side and aiming it the best he could at the fire hydrant valve-

BANG! 

Gallons and gallons of water started spraying from side of the hydrant with a vengeance, creating a roar of white noise loud enough to cover all of the minute sounds Bentley could make, like crying, which he was definitely currently doing. It was perhaps the hardest he’d let himself cry since this all started, since he had the cover of the water to silence it.

Suddenly, two arms grabbed him under the armpits and yanked him out from under the monster’s body, and its claws that had been buried in his leg dragged, tearing open more skin as they went before he finally pulled free. Bentley screamed again at the agony, but one of the hands left his armpit and came to slap over his mouth. A hand that wasn’t his. The other arm left his armpit, too, and looped around his torso, and he was slowly dragged out of the alley and right behind the fire hydrant. Close to the loud noise.

Bentley reached up in an attempt to pull the arms away, but a voice came, a whisper that wouldn’t be audible over the raging water: “Don’t fight me.”

Suddenly, four monsters all skidded out of the alley, screeching and hissing at each other, stumbling like a stampede and climbing over one another to get to the fire hydrant.

Bentley watched in horror, the mysterious hands still around him, pinning him in place and keeping his mouth closed as the monsters clicked gutturally at each other. The plates on their heads opened up and they skittered around, listening intently, circling the fire hydrant as though they were deciding what it was. They were so close to them… four feet at absolute max. And there were four of them. And they were so close…

Whoever was sitting behind Bentley slowly released his mouth, and he kept his breaths quiet, forced himself not to cry audibly. The person's hand slipped under his knees and slowly lifted him off the ground, bridal style, causing a flare of terrible pain to explode up his leg. He bit his tongue until a metallic taste blossomed in his mouth so he didn’t make any noise.

He turned his head away from the monsters, toward the person who was holding him. The sniper rifle sling and shiny blue eyes told him it was the same man from earlier — from the storm shelter.

The guy began to slowly back away, carrying Bentley as he went. He ventured around the back of the library, his footsteps drowned out by the rushing water. He moved slowly, smoothly until he was able to go through the library door and down into the basement, skipping the red stairs and heading into the fallout shelter, closing them in, all in a practiced, silent precision.

The guy carried Bentley over to the same cot he’d sat on earlier and put him down on top of it, removing his bag from his shoulders and shotgun from his hands, putting them on the floor near the bed. Then he immediately walked away to the other end of the room, digging softly in one of his own packs.

Bentley layed back on the cot and put his hands over his mouth. The pain in his leg was absolutely incapacitating, and kind of made him wish the whole thing would’ve just been chopped off. His left pant leg was solid red, and he sucked in deep, quick, panicked breaths instead of scream-crying like a toddler throwing a tantrum, which is what he actually wanted to do. He could feel the hot tears streaming down either side of his face quicker than he could even think about wiping them off, but he kept his hands dutifully clamped over his mouth like his life depended on it. Because it did.

The guy came back over with a few things gathered in his arms that he laid out carefully on the floor at the foot of the bed. He stood up and made sure he was in Bentley’s field of vision, holding up a glass bottle of vodka.

Shit.

Bentley shook his head lightly, internally begging him not to pour it on the wound, but the guy was already moving. He rolled up what looked like a washcloth into a thin cylinder and held it up toward Bentley’s face. To put in his mouth. To bite on.

When Bentley didn’t move, the guy manually put it between his teeth, and then knelt down and cut Bentley’s pant leg clean off halfway up his thigh with a knife.

Agony. 

Bentley writhed when he poured the alcohol into the wound. He kept from screaming by biting down on the washcloth so hard he probably cracked a few teeth, his entire body thrashing so hard he nearly kicked the guy in the face with his other leg. The only noise that managed to escape him was a soft whine mixed strangely with a few sobs that sounded kind of like he was choking on blood.

The guy’s hand came to rest on his other leg, maybe trying to comfort him, or maybe warning him to shut up. Bentley wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. After a few minutes of blazing agony, he spotted the small sewing kit the guy had placed on the bed, and passed flat out.

—

When Bentley woke up, he was really warm.

He peeled his eyes open, blinking a few times until the slightly illuminated metal ceiling of the bomb shelter faded into his vision. It was dead silent, apart from a quiet, extremely soft crackling sound that was coming from across the room.

He blinked a few times, pushing himself up until he was upright. There was a blanket over him — the blanket he’d gotten from the store.

His leg, instead of feeling like it was going to fall off, was throbbing with a pulsing ache that was ten times better than it had been earlier. He lifted the blanket to glance at it. Nearly his entire pant leg was cut off, and the giant gnash from the top of his thigh to just above his knee had been covered with bandages that looked like they’d been wrapped with a practiced precision. He was really glad he couldn’t see the stitches, because he’d probably just pass out again if he could.

With a grimace, Bentley glanced over the edge of the cot at his bag. It was still pinned closed, and his shotgun was laying just where they’d left it, so he safely assumed it hadn’t been tampered with.

He finally glanced across the room at the other two cots. The little fireplace was on now, but the fire was barely lit, to be quiet, he guessed. There was a bucket of water directly beside it that he guessed was to put it out quickly. The guy was sitting on his cot, the one without the stuffed animal, and his gaze seemed to land on Bentley at the exact same time Bentley’s landed on him.

The guy immediately rose and strode across the room toward him. Bentley found himself shrinking away, absentmindedly reaching for his shotgun.

The man knelt down and held up his hands, just like he had earlier, doing the same writing motion as before. He looked less… cold, than last time? Like, nicer, maybe?

Keeping one eye on him, Bentley fished the calendar journal out of his bag and turned to the pages they’d written on before, quickly scribbling and handing it over

Thanks for saving me. I’ll leave now.

With a brief glance up at the child, the guy wrote and handed it back quickly.

No. Stay. I was wrong before.

Wrong? Bentley wrote. About what?

We’re safer together. Was the man’s reply. I saved you with the sniper shot. You saved both of us with the fire hydrant. Safer together. You can stay with me.

Bentley looked down at the page for a few quiet moments, the sudden urge to cry returning, but he pushed it away and wrote.

My name is Bentley Whittaker.

The guy read over it carefully, tracing it with his eyes a few times before writing and handing it back.

Hi Bentley. I’m Dick Grayson.

Bentley nodded to himself, glancing back up at him, connecting the name to the face. Dick Grayson. He looked like a Dick Grayson. 

A second later, Dick Grayson took the book back and wrote:

Alone, or lost?

Alone. My father died protecting me eleven days ago. Bentley wrote. Are you? Alone? 

Dick stared at the question for a moment, before writing what seemed like a long reply.

My family tried to fight against the invasion. Only me and my youngest brother survived the first month. He got sick about a week ago and I went to the pharmacy to get some meds, I didn’t know he followed me. He sneezed on the street. I wasn’t close enough. Now it’s just me. He wrote. Sorry about your dad.

Bentley read through it carefully, pity streaking through his chest as he glanced up at the other cot, the one with the stuffed cow laying on it.

I’m sorry about your brother. And the rest of your family, Bentley wrote back. How old was he?

11, Dick replied. I’m 26. What about you?

Bentley wrote back: 10.

A moment of quiet passed, and Dick twirled the pen in his hands before glancing at a watch that was sitting on his right wrist. You were out for probably 6 hours. I’d recommend pain meds if you have them. I’m out, he wrote.

Bentley nodded lightly, pulling his bag up on the bed and digging out one of the motrin bottles he’d taken from the pharmacy. In silence, he dosed himself out as much as he needed based on the weights provided on the bottle, then a little more, and took it all in one gulp.

Once he put it all back away, he wrote on the page again. Why change your mind? I thought you wanted me gone?

Dick looked at Bentley, then studied the page for a moment too long, his eyes growing very vaguely misty for a few odd moments. Then he wrote, slowly, and handed it back.

I couldn’t save anyone in my family. But I could save you.

Bentley blinked at the words, that sudden urge to cry rising in him again. Instead, he exhaled in a calculated way, writing: How did you know I was still here?

I didn’t know it was you, Dick wrote, but I heard this morning’s chaos on my walkie. He pointed at the walkie talkie taped on the wall above his bed. I figured you were smart enough not to move in the dark…

Bentley nodded, tapping the pen on the paper as he tried to come up with more to say. He glanced at his bag for a few moments.

I got crosswords and stuff from the store if you’re bored, he wrote. I need to do my school from yesterday and today. I forgot yesterday because I was walking.

Dick furrowed his brow, writing again: School? You just, like, almost died?

Bentley nodded, shuffling in his bag before he pulled out the single schoolbook he’d brought from home. It was a cheap one, because his father hadn’t cared very much about it, a sort of all-four-subjects-in-one textbook that gave him a daily dose of math, english, history, and science. He put it on the cot near to Dick so he could see it, and wrote in the journal: I don’t want to end up stupid.

He could’ve swore Dick smirked at that, his eyes shining like he was reliving a fond memory. You’re very smart already. Wrapping your shoes, cutting the zipper out of your bag, shooting the fire hydrant. It's impressive. Doing school while the world is ending -- You remind me of my brother Tim. 

Bentley read through it and smiled faintly. He wondered how many siblings Dick Grayson had, but he was too afraid to ask in case it upset him.

You can stay over here if you want, but it's just boring old school, Bentley wrote. He pulled out the crosswords and other pens, too. Everythings kinda boring if you can’t make any noise. But I promise not to bother you.

Dick never wrote back.

For a while, they just sat in the quiet. Bentley went through his hour-a-day school lesson, and Dick Grayson moved to the cot next to him, doing some of the little puzzles in the book he’d found.

It was a while later when Dick finally rose. Bentley tried not to stare at him, but he did see him shuffle around in one of the two bags for a moment. He looked away, finishing up the last of his math problems.

Dick stopped ahead of him a few moments later, holding out a bundle of clothes in his direction. 

Bentley promptly realized they’d have to be his brother’s clothes if they were going to fit.

Glancing down at himself, he realized he didn’t have much of a choice but to wear them. He didn't have any more clothes of his own, and his current pants were missing a leg, and his shirt was absolutely drenched in monster blood.

He took them from his hands slowly, giving him a opportunity to snatch them back, but he never did.

Dick pointed back at the area with the room dividers, and Bentley went about forcing himself over there. His leg throbbed with a pain so harsh he nearly fell over when he first put his weight on it, and Dick hovered close by for support, but eventually he managed -- even if it did take almost ten minutes for him to walk the mere distance from one end of the shelter to the other.

He changed quickly, right next to the toilet. It was a strange combination of soft sweatpants and a button up shirt, and he briefly wondered why until he realized it was probably quieter to slide a shirt on that way than over their heads. The only issue was that… his left hand was wrapped, and he couldn’t actually do the buttons.

He managed to get the bottom three done and called that good enough, making his way back out into the larger part of the room. The clothes were a little big for him, but he’d manage, since the sweatpants had elastic at the waistline.

Dick turned to him when he came out, scanning his outfit with a sad, nostalgic look in his eyes. Bentley wondered if he regretted giving him his brother’s clothes. Once Dick spotted the undone buttons, he approached Bentley slowly and knelt down ahead of him, finishing them off from the middle of the shirt up to his neckline.

When Bentley glanced up from the article of clothing, Dick had tears running down his face.

It caught Bentley off guard, and he immediately felt terrible, almost offering to change back into his old stuff, but he didn’t have the time.

Because Dick Grayson hugged him.

It was strange. Bentley couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, if he ever had. His father wasn’t exactly the hugging type… he was kind of… the opposite of hugging type.

It was… really warm. And comfy. And kind of great.

He brought his arms up and around Dick’s neck in return, and much to the relief of Bentley’s leg, he stood, picking him up off the floor as he did so. For a while, Dick carried him around and paced the shelter, in a bid to calm himself down, maybe, Bentley didn’t know. What he did know was that he was getting pretty sleepy because of it.

He felt sort of bad, because he just woke up, but also not really, because he’d just fought for his life and felt at peace for, like, the first time in ten years.

So he put his head on Dick Grayson’s shoulder, and he tightened his arms around his neck, and he fell asleep feeling kind of safe for the first time in a long, long time.

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0