#eclipse needs a nap

[llamaisllama777]

THE (NOT)DAILY/(NOT)WEEKLY TSAMS, FEMNAFS, AND EAPS REVIEW SHOW!

Hey, everyone. It's been a bit since I last did one of these cause I took a break for a bit, but now I'm back. Let's talk about today's episodes. My gosh, were they great.

The B*tch came back!

Ladies, gentlemen, and simps alike.

He's back.

Our emo boy is back! Nexus is back! But he seems... off?

I think it's Nexus... kinda.

I think it's his shade (like a shadow of sorts or the physical embodiment of all the dark star power that was in Nexus, but that's a theory for another time)

Point is! 👏 Nexus is back, and he's after Dazzle. He wants to make Sun suffer for killing him and plans on making his death hurt by going after Dazzle.

Sun and Moon are now contemplating leaving this dimension entirely to avoid all the chaos here, especially the star stuff chaos.

Honestly...

They should have left sooner. This dimension has been nothing but chaos, so I saw leave, take Monty and Earth with ya. Solar and Jack, too. Leave this place! Go to Good!Sven's universe. He would love to have you there!

It would be nice for Sun, Moon, and Earth to have a dad who actually cares.

Also, this episode made me realize Sun has killed a lot of people with fire or fire related things,huh?

Roxas, dude, I want to like you, I do like you, even after this stunt...

BUT!

If you didn't want to go on the date, just reschedule!

You didn't have to go through the motions and act like a disinterested piece of [Beep]!

Sunny was excited for the date and was so sad when he dipped.

Roxas look don't be a tease.

Sunny likes you

And I have a feeling you like her too.

I saw how you were flirting with her in the episode where we met Roxas.

Roxas, please, you may have just become the Femnaf's fandom's public enemy number 1# for this stunt.

I still have hope that Roxny will happen. I can see it, I like it, I ship it. But right now, Roxas, pray. Pray Moonie and the fan base don't kill ya.

And last but certainly not least...

Wow. This Henry is a [Beep]ing terrible person! I mean, I know every Henry isn't perfect. They're all flawed, but gosh, dang!

You allow Vincent to run amok and kill other kids just to keep Afton at bay? What the [Beep] Hen?!

Eclipse is fully in his right to be mad! Henry is not only allowing innocent kids to die, but he also knew the whole time what was happening. He knew everything, about Eclipse, Puppet, Foxy, Puppetmaster, Charlie he knew it all!

He could have helped, but didn't.

(That's messed up for a lot of reasons, like you could have helped here, man)

I get that Henry is trying to prevent Afton from getting a new body by hiding Vincent, but that is no excuse. You helped a child killer serial killer just to prevent another from rising?

That's like, do you wanna get shot in the foot with a revolver or a pistol. It's still gonna hurt. It's still bad.

(And I think it uses the same rounds?)

Eclipse, I don't blame you for wanting to kill Henry. This Henry probably deserves death. I also understand why Charlie protected Henry cause at the end of the day...

that is her dad. Even if he isn't her version of him.

But Eclipse is right. He ain't the hero. He never asked to be.

But now he's stuck playing good guy cause no one else can.

I feel so bad for Eclipse, he just wants his kids back.

I hope he can save them and take both Vincent, Afton, and Henry down.

Amazing episodes!

11/10! 👏 👏 👏

[ping-ski]

eclipse and y/n are finally done!! (you can find EBY sun & moon here)

these refs aren't that much different from the old ones aside from small changes :3

(old) EBY DCA ref

(old) Y/N ref

[paarthursass]

"Where's Dracula though WHERE is Dracula?" I understand the questions I do I do but if I may throw out what I think is the most plausible theory for his current absence AND why Alucard hasn't mentioned him being alive (presuming Dracula and Lisa kept to their plan of eventually telling him they were alive)

I think Dracula's asleep. And he probably has been since Lisa died her second death (likely of old age).

This would account for a) Dracula falling out of memory and legend by the time Nocturne rolls around, b) him not showing up to aid in the fight against Erzsebet, and c) Alucard not mentioning him. He doesn't know these new vampire hunters all that well, and he's not going to advertise the fact that his father - one of the most deadly vampires in history - is alive and vulnerable right now.

This would also set things up nicely for if the show ever wants to go the Symphony of the Night route, a-la an evil entity (perhaps Old Man Coyote) possessing one of the heroes (Richter, or Maria, or perhaps Tera) and compelling them to resurrect (or in this case awaken) Dracula.

Of course, Dracula as he exists in the show is probably not inclined to resume his plans for destroying humanity, but this could easily be circumvented by further possession/magical corruption hand waving. But that's not the real point of this post.

I think it makes the most sense, from what the show has established and for where it might be inclined to go, for Dracula to currently be asleep.

[mintea-in-space]

Finally Home

Word Count: 1451

Pairing: Swisstom/SwissAeon

A ficlet about Swiss greeting his Bug after tour. This is a birthday gift for the absolutely amazing @coffeeghoulie, who has been so much fun talking to the past couple of months. Happy Birthday you wonderful creature 💙

Swiss is not usually one to pace. No, he usually sticks to slow, fluid movements, almost too fluid to be human. And yet, Copia notes, here he is, wearing a circle into the concrete path leading to the ministry doors.

When Copia had first picked up the phone to panicked breaths and quiet pleading to come home, his heart had shattered. And despite the fact that it had been midnight, he’d still dragged himself from his bed to get Swiss on the first flight back. It had been rough, something about this tour had messed with the voices in his head, and Swiss was crumbling beneath it.

So Copia brought him home.

Since then, Swiss had been recovering slowly. Days were spent at the Frater’s side. Nights were spent in his bed. And afternoons were spent in Aether’s office, slowly unraveling the knots that were pulling his multi ghoul apart. Truthfully Copia still isn’t sure he’d done everything right, he’d ached with Swiss, his heart crying every time his ghoul cried. And being away from his mate for so long wasn’t helping. At least there Copia had experience. At least he could recognize the burning longing that settles into bone and muscle. Each month that passed was like ten, and when the little circled date on the calendar had finally arrived, Copia thought Swiss was going to burst.

He sighs and adjusts his sleeves like he’s done countless times already. “They’ll be here bunny, are you sure you don’t want to just stand with me?”

Swiss stops and shakes his hands out. The golden buckles on his vest and cape glint in the sunlight, just beginning to fade. For a moment he tilts his head into the sun, and then he’s shaking it. “Can’t, C. It’s just- I- Ugh.”

Copia nods. “Yes. Ugh.” The smile that twitches at the corner of Swiss’ lips eases some of the tension in his shoulders. “It’s not long now. They’ll be here.” When he holds his hand out, Swiss takes it, and Copia squeezes it three times. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

The ghoul opens his mouth to answer, but the second the crunch of gravel reaches them his ears are perking up and an excited chirp spills from him. Copia laughs, eyes brightening. When the bus finally rounds up the drive and comes to a stop, Copia squeezes their hands again before letting go.

The bus doors open with a hiss, and before either of them can move, a dark purple blur launches itself from the bus and careens directly into Swiss’ arms. It’s a miracle he doesn’t fall over with the force of it, the two ghouls spinning a few times before Aeon’s feet finally touch the ground again.

They start talking the second they are in Swiss’ arms, rambling about the tour and crowds and things they’d seen, but all Swiss can focus on is the smell of black cherry and vanilla. Of their lavender shampoo. Their hair is just a little greasy when he presses his nose into it, not that he cares. The gold tipped point of a horn nudges his temple and tears bud in Swiss’ eyes. His mate is still talking, the sound of their voice ringing chapel bells in his head. The words don’t even register. A tail curls around his thigh, the feather shaped tip thumping at his hip, and Swiss lets out a choked laugh into Aeon’s hair.

“Hey bug.” He whispers, and Aeon’s arms squeeze tighter around his neck.

“You haven’t been listening, have you?” They whine, and he laughs again, the sound lighter than it’s been in months.

“Sorry. Just missed you.” Aeon pulls back to look him in the eye, and Swiss swears he’ll never let go of those lilac eyes ever again. A big hand lifts to cup their cheek, and Aeon melts into it with a happy chuff. “Missed you bad, buggy.”

Aeon hums before lifting on their tiptoes to kiss Swiss’ cheek. “Missed you too, goldie. Was pretty boring without you. New guy isn’t as fun.” They give him a grin, canines glinting in the setting sun. “Couldn’t wait to see you again. You look better. A lot better.”

Swiss just dips and pulls them into a proper kiss, one that he sinks into for longer than he really should. They both jump when Copia puts a hand on Swiss’ shoulder. “Go with them, caro. Catch up. You deserve it.” He pats the multi ghoul’s back before drifting back over to where Dewdrop and Mountain are standing, and Swiss chuckles when he sees the spark in the fire ghoul’s eye.

“Wanna go rest? The nest is all set up for you, for us, just the way you like it.” He dips his head to rub his cheek against Aeon’s, grinning when they grumble about his stubble.

“Yeah, let’s go home.” Their hand slides into his like two matching pieces, made for each other. And Swiss nods, really relaxing for the first time in what feels like forever.

The trek back to the den goes by in a bit of a blur, Aeon chuffing and squeezing Swiss’ hand as they walk, swinging their joined hands a little and grinning. And Swiss just basks in the feeling of his mate close by again, their scent filling his nose. They chuff when Swiss opens their door to a tidy nest and fresh pillows and blankets that smell of Swiss. Something new along a wall catches their eye. Drawings, dozens of them, all pinned up to a massive cork board that wasn’t there when they left. Aeon raises an eyebrow and Swiss flushes. “Eclipse.” He whispers, and Aeon nods in understanding. “I couldn’t tell her no. And I couldn’t just throw them away. They’re gifts.”

Swiss brings them over, tail wagging as he points to each drawing and describes them and when he got them. Many of them seem to feature him, stick figures drawn in yellow with cartoonish looking hair and teeth. Aeon also recognizes Aether, drawn in violet, a large circle and big spikes that can only be his mohawk. Even Copia appears in some, drawn in black with different colored eyes. Aeon laughs at one that depicts him prowling about the ministry, an exaggerated frown on his face. There are words scrawled by a toddler’s hand. Arrows pointing to “Papa” and “Sis” and “Afer.” At one drawing Swiss seems extra happy, a fond smile on his face when he looks at it. It’s a drawing of him and a smaller figure together, drawn in a dark magenta with hair that looks like Swiss’. That one just says “Me and Sis!!” with a smiley face next to it.

“You’re gonna love her, buggy.” Swiss whispers, eyes warm with an emotion Aeon recognizes. “She’s a sweet kit. And she can’t wait to actually meet you.” He wraps his arm around Aeon’s shoulders and pulls them close, kissing their temple.

“I know I will.” They whisper back, tail curling around Swiss’ leg. “Kinda already do. And I can’t wait to see her too.” Swiss hums when they wrap their arms around him. For a moment they don’t move, Aeon looking at the wall and enjoying the closeness. Eventually though, they turn in Swiss’ arms and press their lips against his, slow and sweet. And Swiss melts into it, purrs as he kisses them back. “Nap?” Aeon whispers. “I’m so fucking beat, goldie.”

Swiss laughs, and the sound makes Aeon’s heart sing. “Yeah, we can do that bug.” Dragging both of them to their nest, Swiss flops down and pulls Aeon on top of him. With the click of a remote, the strong lights flip to just the fairy lights hung around the edges of the room, and Aeon makes a pleased groan. Swiss’ scent fills their nose, spiced apple cider, cinnamon, a hint of whiskey. They groan again and rub their face against the pillows, and Swiss chuckles. He throws his arms around them, one warm hand sliding up the back of their shirt and burying his nose in their hair. Swiss purrs, low and raspy, and Aeon chuffs as they press their ear to his chest. “Happy?” Swiss asks, and they nod with a chirp.

“Yeah. Happy to be home.”

Swiss reaches down to grab a soft fuzzy blanket and throws it over them both, their tails twining together. “Me too buggy, me too.” Contents himself with feeling the beat of their heart and their weight against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. Aeon falls asleep first, mouth open and drooling a little puddle on his shirt, but he can’t complain, just smiles and follows his mate to sleep.

This is home.

[jam-showtoonz]

Time for-

Eclipse & Bloodmoon! ((My AU))

Eclipse- he/him

Eclipse wearing sweaters (mostly because I don’t like drawing the torsos (Ruin is the exception)) unfortunately they are kinda small. His favourite two are the ones he wears most!

Earth is the only one he cares about and that mostly because she is very caring and nice.

He has a piece of Lunars hat attached to his wrist band, he doesn’t know if Ruin put it there as some kinda of sick joke but he refuses to take it off. He has asked Ruin about it once and was just told that he never put it on and has no idea where it came from.

The lines coming from his eye he caused himself when he was losing his mind over who made him, he still drags his fingers over the area when in a particular bad mood.

—

Bloodmoon- they/them

Harvest- they/them

Bloody- he/she/they (they honestly don’t actually care and go by whatever- even neopronouns)

The Bloodmoon twins in this au are pretty similar to the ones in the show, only different is that they don’t want to kill Lunar because they do see them as a brother. This doesn’t mean they won’t hurt Lunar though.

They are actually kinda scared of Sun, not so much that they will have a breakdown but they will become slightly shaky and stutter a bit.

Harvest can’t stand flat on their feet and are always tip toeing, Bloody on the other hand is uncomfortable tip toeing. Harvest tries to not tip toe that often to make their brother comfortable. Bloody tries to ignore her discomfort because he knows his brother cant walk well when flat on their feet

—

+an extra ((bc if I coloured these two in I have to do Solar & Jack))

Solar- he/him

Jack- they/it/xe

[naffeclipse]

Ya know, I think BL!Eclipse might reluctantly recruit Sun and Moon if it meant keeping Y/N safe. Like is he happy that they hang out with other nagas? Fuck no. Probably a decent blow to his pride, too, to ask for help. But if it means they won’t have to be littered with bruises anymore? That’s just yet another way he and his counterpart are different

Meanwhile Sun and Moon are fretting after Y/N’s well being, cuz all that stress from having the two Eclipses’ attentions Cannot be good for their little friend.

BL!Eclipse wouldn't seek out help from Sun and Moon due to the threats that Sun and Moon pose in stealing away Y/N's affections. They have similar goals, but that does not make them friends. If anything, Eclipse is even more agitated that there are three nagas he has to keep his Y/N from. He intends to deal with the worst problem first and then move on to the next rivals.

Sun and Moon are both greatly concerned for Y/N's safety. The two are unsettled by BL!Eclipse because he's obsessed with Y/N (just like their older brother), dangerous, and unpredictable. They don't know what he wants with Y/N—they don't want to wait around to find out if that involves Y/N getting hurt or worse. So, they try to keep their little photographer close and any enemies far, far away.

[fosermi]

For you Chibi <3

-

Bad things always seemed to happen in pairs. Eclipse knew this, it wasn't the first time his life was turned upside down. But it still hurt all the same.

First it was his son, Dally, deeply injured by wounds from battle. Eclipse couldn't let him see how worried he actually was. When Dally died from his wounds, Eclipse kept a smile on his face the entire time.

And then he was gone.

Days later, still in morning, Eclipse's grief deepened when his daughter Lilith died of pneumonia. Some dad he was, he hadn't even known she was sick. What kind of father was he, when he hadn't even been aware she had been struggling?

Both of them had been adults, Dally was 54 and Lilith had been 51. But to him, they were still his babies. Especially since those two had been the first ever kids he had ever rescued and adopted. The beginning of the Red Arms Rebellion.

Eclipse had always know this day would come. All his kids, including those two, were mortal. He could see it in the way time changed them, how wrinkles grew around their eyes and their fur turned grey. But it didn't make the pain any easier.

Now he couldn't do anything.

Over the years, Eclipse had created a village for himself and his adopted kids. Every time he found children who had been orphaned, he brought them here. Eclipse wasn't naive enough to think he could fix everything or protect them from the flame creatures that were slowly destroying the planet, but their little village was a little haven. A bit of safety.

But that didn't mean they were safe from death's cold fingers finding them.

Dally and Lilith had been his first kids. The very first. And now they were gone.

Eclipse knew there was so much he needed to do, things to check in on but how could he? He had raised and fed and protected and loved both of them dearly, but now they weren't here anymore. His beloved first kids were dead. Gone. Just like the rest of his adopted kids would be. Some day, all of them would be dead.

And he would still be here.

The thought was enough to keep him in bed, his only company his misery and grief. He had already burned through his rage and anger, attacking some ruins of an empty city until it was gone and there wasn't any excuse for him to ignore this part any longer.

Some of the older kids came in looking for him, tried to talk to him, but he couldn't entertain any of them at the moment. Eclipse just wanted to be alone with his sorrow.

Until he heard footsteps coming toward him. And a deep, calm voice said, "Eclipse."

That was enough to make the darkling sit up in surprise. Because Shadow was standing there.

It had been years since the last time they saw each other. In the past, that was because of how much they fought, arguing over every little thing. Now it was because of how busy they were, Eclipse was caring for his village and massive family, while Shadow was on Angel Island.

"What are you doing here?" Eclipse asked, blinking a few times in shock.

Shadow came toward and sat down on the edge of the bed, "your kids are worried about you. One came up to the island to get me."

"Who?"

A that, Shadow only shrugged. "Not sure. But he said you're not doing well."

Eclipse thought about lying, about snarling and snapping and telling Shadow to leave, that he didn't need his help. But that was something he would have done when he was younger. Now, things were different. A person couldn't survive all alone.

"Dally and Lilith died," he muttered.

As soon as she said that, something changed in his brother's expression. And then Eclipse was in Shadow's arms, sobbing against his shoulder.

In the village, he had to be strong. He was the leader, the dad, taking care of all his kids. Most of the time, he enjoyed it and didn't mind. But at times like this, Eclipse realized how badly he just wanted his big brother to comfort him, to say kind words and take care of him for once.

Years ago, they wouldn't have been able to do this, the two of them had been so wrapped in fighting over stupid shit. But now, they could just be brothers.

The decades had mellowed Shadow out. He was never going to be a cuddly person who looked for hugs, but he no longer reacted like someone was electrocuting him every time he was touched.

"What happened?" Shadow had known them, after he first adopted them, Eclipse insisted on his kids meeting their new uncle. But it had been a while since he had come to visit.

Eclipse wiped at his eyes, "injury and sickness." His voice broke. "None of them are immortal like we are... they'll all go someday..."

His brother released him, "That will happen," he said quietly. "And it will hurt. But that just means you loved them. And it's better to have those good memories then to not have those moments at all."

Taking a deep breath, Eclipse looked up at him, "you're sure?"

A nod. "I am," Shadow stood up. "C'mon, we can hold a funeral for them and set up a grave site."

That sounded painful, but not having to face it alone made it a bit easier. Being able to bask in the competency of his older brother would soften this painful blow. Swallowing, Eclipse got to his feet. "Can you stay a few days?" That was a hard thing to ask, since Knuckles died, Shadow had taken over watching the Master Emerald, leaving it for long periods of time was not wise.

Shadow patted his shoulder, a look of almost amusement on his face. "Of course. Where else would I be?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AMES

AMES WHAT THE FUCK

I was silently sobbing in the bus the whole trip back to the dorms!!!! TuT

The brothers the ever!!! I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH!!!! VERY DEAR TO MY HEART THESE TWO <3 <3

Let me,,,,

Let me go cry some more,,,

[ravenwriter16]

Hey Dad? I need you to sign this form from school real quick.

Sure firefly. Let me just get my glasses.

W-why not just sign it now?

*Gives her a long stare, hovering over his glasses case*

What happened?

...

Melody. Answer me...

I skipped school yesterday...

What?! Melody why? You've never done this before.

Technically...it wasn't ME...

*Narrows eyes*

Don't tell me...

He wanted to take me out!

*Angry breathing*

***

*Sun calmly drinking tea*

*Breaks down door*

YOU SON OF A B---!

*I had to talk to Eclipse and Sun regarding Melody and her schooling...It was not fun...*

[buyingaradspaceship]

daylight savings is a trip man. one minute it’s about to be 1am and suddenly it’s 2am and then you have some silly little phone time and it’s nearly 3am! kinda uncool … but I do like the extra daytime this gives us

[transgenderastronovalite]

i want to go back to the fuckin rainforest man

[ckret2]

Chapter 49 of human Bill Cipher being such a miserable prisoner even the Pines are starting to feel bad for him: The Eclipse: Epilogue.

####

"The heck did you do to that poor woman?" Tate asked, staring out the window. Bill was sitting on the pier, legs dangling in the water, staring blankly into the depths. He was still muddy and trembling. "She looks more traumatized than when y'all left."

Ford couldn't meet Tate's gaze under the brim of his hat, but he could feel Tate raising a brow when he spotted Dipper pacing back and forth on the pier behind Bill, muttering furiously.

"We've had a very bad day," Ford said. 

"Uh-huh."

"Could I borrow your phone to call my brother?"

Outside, Dipper was oblivious to everything except the one line he'd managed to remember from the Axolotl, the words he'd picked out as they crossed the lake. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,'" Dipper murmured. He knew that much. It was a poem. It was a rhyme. He couldn't remember the rest. What did it mean? He murmured it over and over to himself as he walked, trying to remember the next line, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,' 'sixty degrees that come in threes'... breeze, freeze, ease, lease, knees—" He couldn't remember the rhyme.

Bill was considering grabbing Dipper by the ankle and dragging him off the pier just to shut him up when whatsisname, the younger McGucket came out of the shop. "Hello there? Miss Goldie?"

Human. Strange human. Human that Bill could get on his side. Be charming. He tried to remember how to be charming. He offered a feeble smile. "Yello?"

"I wanted to make sure you're all right," Tate said. "You look like you, uh... you've had a hard time."

Bill laughed ruefully. "Well, I've been dragged all over the mountain, I'm hungry, exhausted, and half-drowned, and I can barely walk—but I'm not currently dead. Allegedly. I'll take what I can get."

The corners of Tate's mouth twitched down in a concerned frown. "Is there anything you need? A..." He floundered for a moment, "A water, or...?"

"I've had enough water to last me a lifetime." He wondered idly whether he could claim he was too exhausted to make it all the way home—there was a sofa in the staff room, Tate would probably let the poor bedraggled "woman" take a nap, if Bill got that bit of distance between himself and the Pines maybe he could... maybe he could... do something with it? But he couldn't think of anything more definite than that and now Ford was coming back and the window of opportunity closed. He shrugged wearily. "Just need to get back to the shack. Thanks." He half heartedly used the lake water to wash the drying mud off his lower legs and knees.

"Stan will be here in about twenty minutes," Ford said, and tried to ignore the dirty look Tate gave him. 

"I'll be just inside if you need anything else," Tate said. "Watching." He headed inside—and then, indeed, stood at the shop window and watched.

Ford was never going to get on Tate's good side. He suspected Tate would be a little less sympathetic to the poor woman on the pier if he knew who he really was; but it certainly wouldn't make Tate like Ford any better for keeping him around.

"Nothing to do now but wait." Ford unloaded the rest of their supplies from the borrowed motor boat. He dropped Soos's Monster-Mon backpack beside Bill—it was heavy, Bill must have just shoved his clothes and bedsheet straight in without bothering to wring out the water—and the plastic bag of snacks Dipper had bought. "You ought to eat more while we wait." Ford nudged the snack bag.

Bill sneered at it. "I don't want that trash."

"What?" Ford examined the bag's contents. Jerky, chips, candy, cups of marshmallow cereal... "This is ninety percent of what you eat."

"Ninety percent of what I eat is what I can scavenge from the counters."

Ford looked through the bag again. Ah. Right. So it was. "If you want something else, you know you can ask us to..."

"Mac and cheese."

Maybe Ford had better stop talking. He sighed and glanced at Dipper to see how he was doing.

It didn't look like Dipper had even registered Ford's return, too busy pacing and muttering to himself. Ford frowned. "Dipper?"

"Axolotl," Bill explained. "He's obsessing over him. Didn't I tell you that meeting that thing would drive him insane?" He tilted his head toward Dipper. "Look at that, he's already mumbling to himself. Don't suppose you have his therapist's number, do you? I doubt that would save him, but it might slow the process—"

Ford shushed him.

Dipper had briefly tuned back into the conversation when he heard Bill say Axolotl; and now he grit his teeth and stubbornly tuned it back out. No. He was not going insane. Dipper would figure this out. If he just remembered the rest he'd be fine. He tried to go through all the potential rhymes alphabetically, "—bees, cease, d—deez?" That wasn't a word. "Fees, geese, he's..." and on and on, "seas, tees, uh... vees? Wheeze..."

"I've had enough of you trying to convince that boy he's about to go mad," Ford muttered to Bill. "What do you get out of saying that? Even if you do convince him he's insane, it won't make him start trusting anything else you say."

"I'm not lying," Bill said heatedly. "You ought to know that, you've been in the multiverse, you've seen plenty of maddening sights. You saw them before you even left the Nightmare Realm."

Ford hesitated before responding; was Bill trying to persuade Ford he was insane? But he could still remember those first few moments of terror in the Nightmare Realm: the creatures that had seemed to move and shift in impossible ways as they swam in and out of dimensions Ford couldn't see, the lights and colors that throbbed like an inverted migraine, Bill himself seemingly suspended a million light years away and a foot in front of Ford's face at the same time. Until Ford had latched onto his quest to destroy Bill and let that focus him, his mind had felt like an unraveling sock. "You were chief among those maddening sights."

"I was," Bill acknowledged neutrally.

"But I didn't go insane."

"Because you knew when to look away." He cast a sideways glance at Dipper, an implicit unlike him. "I know you used to read cosmic horror. Do you know why the narrator always goes mad just from looking at some giant beast? It's not because it's too ugly to take. It's because once you meet something, you try to understand it; but if you want to understand the reality something like that comes from," he rolled an eye up toward where the invisible Axolotl had hung in the sky, "you have to lose your understanding of your own reality. They're incompatible. Like the lunatics who escaped Plato's cave and came back ranting about nonsense like sunlight and colors."

It was a twisted interpretation of the cave allegory. Plato had meant it as a metaphor for education: that learning about the true nature of reality was enlightening, but alienated you from your peers.

Perhaps to Bill, enlightenment and insanity were the same thing.

Ford murmured, "Once your eyes have been too dazzled by the sunlight to see the dim shadows, you'll never be awed by a candle again."

"You have been there before."

Ford didn't answer.

"Once you've seen something like that, if you let yourself dwell on the significance of it all, you're doomed. Better to tell yourself it's unimportant and try to forget it ever happened."

Ford thought of Fiddleford.

Bill twisted around to snap tiredly at Dipper, "So stop staring at the sun before you go blind, moron."

"Shut up." Dipper had been trying to mentally drown out Bill's dire predictions by grasping for more rhymes—"disease, unease, Socrates"—but enough filtered through to make his stomach churn with nervousness. What if Bill was right? What if he never remembered what the Axolotl told him—what if he drove himself mad trying? What if this turned into a lifelong obsession—but he'd be fine and could let it go once he remembered—was that the trap? Was whatever it had told him impossible for a human to remember? Was it something so incomprehensible a human couldn't remember it without going crazy?

But he'd seen plenty of stuff last summer that was supposed to make humans go "insane." Bill had to be messing with him. He remembered the first line—surely that meant he could remember the rest—but was that part of the trap? "'Sixty degrees that come in threes'... come on, there's something else, I know it, what is it? 'Sixty degrees that come in threes'—"

Bill sighed irritably. "'Watches through the eyes in trees.'"

Dipper stopped pacing. He hadn't realized he'd raised his voice enough to be audible. "What?"

"What?" Bill said.

"What's the rest of it?"

"What rest of it? It's a couplet. That's all," Bill said. "Is that what he told you? He gets rhymey when he feels self-important, it's no big deal. Maybe you're lucky. Put it out of your head and you'll be fine."

Dipper turned the words over in his head. Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches through the eyes in trees... "That's not exactly right," he said slowly. "It was 'watches from within birch trees.'"

"Is that how he translated it? I've never heard it in English before. I got close, though, I knew it'd rhyme."

Ford echoed, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes.' Like a triangle?"

Dipper gave him a perplexed look. "What?"

"You're taking geometry next year, aren't you? The inner angles of polygons always have the same number of degrees; and a triangle has a hundred and eighty degrees. Three angles of sixty degrees forms... an equilateral triangle."

Dipper and Ford stared at Bill.

Bill gave them a tired, unreadable look. "What?" he said. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only equilateral triangle in the universe."

Well, now Dipper was sure there was more to the poem than just a couplet. "How many other equilateral triangles spy on people through birch trees?"

"Lay off," Bill said crabbily. "I didn't have to tell you that line. Don't make me regret it." He planted his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together, pressed his forehead to them, and massaged his eyelids with his thumbs.

He tilted slightly to the right, keeping the weight of his head off his left arm.

####

"Nice shirt," Stan said, eyeing Ford's anger management t-shirt.

"If you like it, you can have it."

"What happened to your coat?"

"Somewhere at the bottom of the lake," Ford sighed.

"How...?"

"I'll fill you in later."

Bill's trembling was almost unnoticeable by the time Stan arrived. Or, at least, it was slight enough that he could stand and make the short walk from the pier to the car without an obvious struggle. 

He climbed into the back seat, slid across the bench, leaned against the door, wrapped his arms around his Monster-Mon backpack, fell asleep, and didn't wake up for the entire drive home.

Dipper and Ford fell silent when they noticed; and, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Stan followed suit.

####

The event organizers for Higher Dimensional Gate had arranged for the Magister Mentium's audience to surround him in a circle with as large a circumference as possible, so that as many shapes as possible could pack into the first few rows where they could see him. Even so, the crowd was much too large for everyone to be in the first few rows. Speakers had to be planted throughout the crowd so that they'd all be able to hear the Magister speak. Most of his audience couldn't see him.

But he, with his all-seeing eye, could see all of them.

The crowd extended back, row after row after row, in every direction like flecks of multicolor confetti filling the air all the way to the horizon. He'd never spoken to such a large crowd before. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a large crowd before.

Not all of them were his worshipers. He didn't have that many worshipers. The rest were drawn in by his boast—to be the first shape outside of legends to predict an eclipse, over six months ahead of schedule. They were here for a spectacle. He meant to give them one.

If he succeeded, all these spectators would become his worshipers, he was sure of it. If he didn't succeed, he lost everything. The whole nation knew about his bet. He'd be financially ruined. His worshipers would abandon him. There would be no fleeing to a new town and starting over; everyone everywhere knew who he was. His life would be over.

This would be only the third eclipse he could recall. There's no way to neatly map shape ages onto human ages. Different year lengths, different aging speeds, different mental and physical milestones. But approximately, compared to a human, he was scarcely over fifteen years old. 

But he wouldn't fail. He pushed all his fears aside. He didn't even want to think about them. He wouldn't, because he couldn't, because he could see what nobody else saw. He could see the eclipse's approach.

It was traveling across the vast empty gulf outside the world.

The only other third dimensional objects he'd ever seen were the sun—which looked to him like a circle—and the stars—which seemed to be mere points. He assumed all third dimensional objects were fundamentally just second dimensional objects, moving on a strange plane. He had no capacity to model a 3D object in his mind.

But the eclipse was a beast that twirled and gyrated around impossible axes, moving and rotating in ways his eye couldn't even comprehend. To him, it looked as though the living creature—he assumed it was a living creature, sometimes it manifested a couple of limbs or an eye—was constantly shapeshifting, its perimeter moving and altering. Its uncanny undulations had haunted his nightmares for months after he first watched it, so young he'd barely started school. It wasn't any less nightmarish now.

But as incomprehensible and terrifying as it was, he could see it, and nobody else here could, and that was all that mattered. He could watch it on the horizon and publicly announce that it would cross the sun in two weeks—and then in about three days—and then, to his humiliation, not tomorrow but today, guaranteed, as the creature sped up and threw off his estimate. His worshipers and bemused spectators had taken over the square to while away the time. They'd quickly gathered around him to wait after he'd declared it would arrive within the hour

That had been almost an hour and a half ago. The stupid thing had slowed down.

The triangle was terrified.

In every direction, shapes were staring at him. Waiting. His father was watching him—his stare seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He could see reporters in the crowd taking notes.

He had to fight not to pace, not to cringe, not to show any nerves in front of the hundreds of eyes.

Now. It had to be now. It was so close. Please don't let him be wrong. Every cord in his body quivered in terror as he grabbed his microphone and announced: "Lines, bis, tris—quads, quints, and more! My dear students and beloved believers, and my—" he cut off the urge to say something nastier, "—curious visitors, who I hope will join our quest for enlightenment. This is the moment you've been waiting for! The eclipse is upon us! In less than a minute, it will begin!" He had to keep his gaze forward as he spoke, looking at his audience. (His mother had always said the way his eye went white when he was looking at the third dimension unnerved people.) "Soon—you won't have to take all my claims about the third dimension on faith. You'll be able to see for yourself the effect of the third dimension on the plane."

The crowd murmured excitedly. He could see his father relax. He stared up-but-not-north, gnawing nervously on his eyelid until he caught himself. The beast above glowed a warm pink in the light of the nearby sun.

And the stupid thing. Slowed. Again.

He stared in disbelief.

"Sixty seconds," his father whispered, out of range of the microphone.

His stomach flopped. He was dead.

"One minute, fifteen seconds. What's going—?"

He held his microphone away and hissed, "The eclipse decided to zigzag."

"Eclipses can zigzag?"

"Shhh!" He'd already failed. He'd already shown everyone he was wrong. He could hear the murmurs. His eye hurt from staring at the sun and from straining for so long to turn so far upward-not-northward, go faster faster faster—

There! The snout of the eclipse was this close to kissing the perimeter of the sun. He cried triumphantly, "Now!"

The wretched beast did a loop-the-loop around the sun and missed it entirely.

The triangle felt the last strands of his fraying self-composure snap.

He howled in rage.

He could hear laughs from the crowd. They felt like daggers in his sides.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was bellowing into outer space as if he thought it might hear him, "Do your think this is a game?! Is this funny?! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of the whole world!" His father put a hand on his arm; the triangle shoved him away. "Get back here right now! You thick, brainless, blobby, pink, feeler-faced two-eyed freak of nature! GET BACK HERE and LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" He was a lunatic, everyone would know it, their leader raving in a direction no one could actually see about some big pink delusion, what did he care, no one would ever take him seriously again anyway—

And the thing in the sky.

Stopped.

And looped back.

And came closer, and closer, and bigger, and bigger—it just kept getting bigger, how far away had it been before, how large was it, how large was the sun?

He hardly noticed the crowd's gasp as the creature twirled between them and the sun—the light shone through its body, pink with blood—and then out of the way, and then in again, and out—until finally it was so close that its perimeter completely engulfed the sun. He'd taken a field trip to the planet's surface once—an enormous solid mass of stone and crystal. Until now, he'd never seen another solid objects so large. To his limited understanding of 3D objects, it looked as though there were no organs inside its perimeter—just a layer of solid, uninterrupted flesh. He didn't know how it could even move.

It stopped straight over him.

He was sure the two black circles embedded inside its body must be its eyes. His whole life he'd heard psychic powers—psychic powers like his own—described as having an "inner eye." But he'd thought the phrase was just a metaphor. An eye on the inside of a body instead of on its perimeter would be useless to most people. He'd never seen a creature with an eye literally on the inside of its body. But the eclipse had two.

And they were looking at him.

A giant ever-shapeshifting cosmic horror from outside of reality, staring through the veil separating the sane world from outerplanar space, and it was looking—at—him.

He was terrified.

He heard an alien voice in his head, vast and deep and slow as distant whale song:

"Hello there!" It was overjoyed. It was tickled pink. "I've never been spoken to by a shape on the wall before. I didn't know you could see off of it!"

Weakly, the triangle repeated, "'A shape on the'...?"

"Yes, this wall of yours." The eclipse gestured with its tail at—everything. A single sweep that took in an entire dimension. "I've probably commuted past this wall billions of times, and nothing's ever called to me before. I didn't know shadows could do that!"

"'Shadows'?" the triangle echoed again. That was all they were? An eclipse's shadows?

"I'm absolutely delighted," the eclipse said. "First contact from a lower-dimensional species! I've watched you for eons and never imagined. Isn't this exciting! How charming of you! Tell me who you are."

Him? "Me?"

"Of course. Who else?" It stared at him. Only him. A shapeshifting force of nature the size of a planet with two inner eyes, an eclipse that saw him as a shadow—and it was looking only at him.

Weakly, he said, "I'm... the Magister Mentium."

The eclipse thought that over. Its tone was a tad dubious and not terribly impressed (why should it be impressed? he was embarrassed at himself for giving his silly puffed-up title)—but it said, "Yes, I suppose that's true. I am the Axolotl. It's been a pleasure meeting you." It began to shapeshift again—its eyes slid sideways through its body, until one reached its perimeter and disappeared.

It dawned on the triangle, in its first immature understanding of third dimensional objects, that its eye had disappeared because the Axolotl was turning away. "Wait!" he cried. "Why..." Why answer him? Why focused on him so completely, if he was just a shadow? Why ask who he was like he mattered? He didn't even know how to put those questions to words in his own mind, much less out loud. "Why are you here so early?"

The Axolotl turned back to the triangle. "Oh! I had to go back for some documents I forgot at the office. Big case in the morning," it said. "You shadows know my schedule?"

"You... pass in front of the sun."

The Axolotl turned away, eyes disappearing and frills fluttering, to look at the sun. "So I do! How funny." It turned toward the triangle and gave him a strange, grotesque look that—by the tone of its psychic voice—he suspected was a smile. "I must get going. I'll be heading into the office a few hours late tomorrow, but perhaps I'll see you again then." And it turned away. It felt like it took forever for the enormous body to sail over-not-north-of the triangle—and pass, at last, out of the sun's path.

The triangle didn't look down-but-not-south until someone shook his side—his father. He lowered his dazed gaze to the crowd—the cheering, applauding crowd. Ma-gi-ster, Ma-gi-ster. A sea of multicolor confetti shapes that filled the air to the horizon.

Shadows.

His father shook him again—"Go on, say something. They're waiting"—and the triangle held up his mic as though he were in a dream. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say. "I was right," he said flatly. "Just like I always told you. I can see the third dimension. The realm of dreams—of colors, of light, and..." The lies left a sick taste in the back of his eye. He couldn't say them. Points of light in darkness and pink nightmares.

"I'm s— You'll all have to excuse me," he said, his voice childish and small. "I can't—I've had a... a... profound... spiritual experience. I must meditate on the revelations I've received." The words felt like woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. "The next eclipse will be a few months after the new year." It seemed important, for some reason, to pass that information on. Wasn't that what he always said he did? Share the wisdom of third dimensional spirits with his followers? "I... have to go now."

His father took his elbow. "This is your moment," he whispered. "Come on, son—you don't want to lose your chance to speak directly to them, do you?"

He shoved the microphone in his father's side. "You speak to them."

"But—"

"I can't," he said. "I can't."

He cut through the crowd as fast as it would part for him—if they were any slower, he'd have started stabbing his way through—haunted the whole way by their applause.

####

And that was it.

From the Axolotl's perspective, he had just had a brief pleasant exchange with a precocious tadpole in a sidewalk puddle.

From the triangle's perspective, he might as well have been standing on the boat deck watching as Cthulhu rose from his millennia of dead slumber at the bottom of the ocean, turned to the fragile vessel bobbing on the waves, and said, "Good morning! Glorious weather we're having, isn't it?"

And from the perspective of the Higher Dimensional Gate, their Magister Mentium had predicted an eclipse, been rightfully insulted when it didn't come the exact second he ordered it, and furiously summoned down an eclipse darker and swifter and longer than any in recorded history.

Up until then, he had been seen as, at best, an oracle. A prophet. A messenger to share the secrets of the third dimension, but that was all he could do. But now, he had commanded forces in an unseen dimension, creating an eclipse months before it was natural. He had made it flicker on and off like he had his finger on the sun's light switch. News reports and the most unimpeachable scientific authorities reported that the eclipse had centered on the location of the Higher Dimensional Gate rally, narrowed down to an inexplicably small radius around that point, and then remained unchanged for several long minutes, long enough for anyone in its shadow to grow fatigued from the missing sunshine. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It defied every known fact about the science of eclipses.

People around the gathering—even people who had known nothing about the Higher Dimensional Gate rally—reported that during the eclipse, they'd become inexplicably disoriented, unable to tell compass directions, and had felt themselves fall toward the darkness—as if gravity's pull had suddenly moved from the south to the epicenter of the eclipse. Public building inspections confirmed that somehow the entire town had shifted, ever so slightly, closer to the epicenter. Closer to the Magister.

Never mind prophecy; as far as the Magister's rapidly-increasing followers were concerned, he might have been a god.

It was the greatest triumph a baby cult leader could ask for.

He barely noticed.

####

For days, he could hardly sleep, speak, or think. He kept losing track of conversations to stare into space. Now, it awed his followers when his eye turned an empty white—he must have been communing with something in a higher dimension.

He didn't argue. It was better than letting them know he was losing his mind.

He spent his time alone locked in his room, pacing back and forth, trying not to look up-but-not-north and failing. Dwelling on the significance of it all. Feeling like he'd never figure it out.

He used to love cosmic horror stories, back when he had time to read. They followed a reliable pattern: the hero travels farther than any rational shape ever should, meets something big, and goes mad from the realization.

And what was it that the hero always realized? That he was a dust fleck in the firmament. That he was insignificant. That he didn't matter. That there were things out there he'd never seen before and would never truly understand, and that they cared not for mere shadows on the wall like him, and that in the grand scheme of the cosmos he was nothing. That he was utterly unimportant.

In moments of what felt like lucidity in between the shivering horror, the triangle  wryly acknowledged that it was no surprise he'd ended up in a cosmic horror story. He could see into another dimension. In the stories he'd read, that made it all but inevitable.

But all the authors had gotten the maddening revelation wrong. He could have handled knowing he was nothing. It almost would have been a relief. 

True horror was knowing he mattered.

He'd spent the majority of his young life selling the idea that he was oh-so-important, as part of a big con to trick gullible idiots into liking him and flinging cash at his rotten undeserving family—and he'd only been able to do it because when the guilt got to him, when his conscience asked what would become of the shapes forking over their life savings on false promises of divine secrets, he could look out into bleak black space and tell himself that nothing really mattered, nothing was important, nothing he'd ever do would really make a difference, and the people he manipulated didn't matter any more than he did. He meant everything to his worshipers, and nothing to the universe. He could do anything and it didn't matter.

For a moment, a vast mind-melting shape-shifting incomprehensible eldritch god had focused its full attention on him—of all the universe, of all the dimensions beyond the known universe, it had looked at him and only him—a mere shadow on the wall, and yet in that moment, it found him interesting. It found him worthy of notice. He had screamed into the cold uncaring void, and the void had cared. For a moment, he'd held cosmic importance. He mattered. His actions mattered.

He'd felt it see him as important, but why? What was so important about him? There had to have been something significant he'd done, something he showed it, something in what he said. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over and over and over, trying to remember what he'd done that proved he mattered.

He didn't know what it was. He couldn't find it. All he could remember was just... being.

The writers were wrong. Cosmic horror wasn't when an elder god's eyes slid past you without noticing you existed. It was when the elder god gazed down at you at your lowest and bleakest, during your most petty and selfish act of mass swindling, from a dimension where not even slamming the door and shutting your eye could shield you from its gaze—and it decided you were worth caring about. Cosmic horror was when you encountered a colossal alien that planted the incomprehensibly alien idea in your head that you had an inherent worth just because you existed. Cosmic horror was when a force of nature asked the name of a shadow on the wall.

If it was true... if it all mattered... then what was he doing? How could he? What had he done?

####

He was lucky—he was lucky that his parents had raised him to think so clearly about issues like morality and money and easy marks. His only saving grace was that he was too rational to seriously entertain the Axolotl's mad ideas.

And yet, his mind boiled with mad regret. It blazed with insane guilt. The heat of it could burn him out. It was months before he could continue his public sermons without feeling sick—and even once he did, he could still feel the delusion that what he did mattered, festering in his mind.

It would fester for the next trillion years.

####

(And that concludes this plot arc! I hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'd love to hear what y'all thought of the whole thing—especially now that we've looped back to the original eclipse. 😁)

[pixelchills]

Secret of the Mimic SPOILERS:

So let me get this straight... According to the MOON.EXE minigame, the ending that can be achieved after the minigame, and the other imaginery used in the game I think it's safe to say that,

Fiona = Sun

Edwin = Moon

David = Baby Owl

The finished Mimic 2 AKA Mimic-David = Eclipse.

The Daycare Attendant is the embodiment of their story. Sun and Moon represent BOTH Fiona and Edwin (what a win to the shippers🙏) AND the story of both Mimic v1 and v2.

Mimic one started as Fiona. When David died, Fiona and Edwin started working on Mimic 2 to bring their son back the same way Edwin was able to bring Fiona back.

But Edwin's stress and grief turned him into aggressive monster, who abandonded M1 underground and beat up M2 who then developed homicidal tendensies.

M1 was trapped as the Moon (the costume). Just like Sun was trapped in "a nap" in RUIN. M2 was poisoned by the aggression of the "moon" aka Edwin. (And the reason for Edwin's aggression and stress was CAUSED by no other that William Afton, who stole everything from him...)

Fiona, the computer program (BETA MXES) continued to urge Edwin to finish M2. They needed to work in harmony to reboot M2 into "David". Just like Sun and Moon needed to be rebooted to become Eclipse.

The parallers in their stories are INSANE. The lore goes hard man.

TLDR;

Sun and Moon are not Fiona and Edwin but figuratively represent them. And Eclipse is the finished Mimic2 "David".

[stormimur]

CHOKES OKAY I SEE YOU I SEE YOU!!! I keep The Deep Grimm to myself now a days due to uhh unfortunate incidents of plagiarism back in 2022. but I should get back into posting it and making art for it. A lot of my recent writing around it was actually not of M/S/K but of your neighbors, actually! Or more, the original variants of them living in TDG's universe. Your neighbors in Cold Front and Days Gone By are huge fixations of mine. Their relationship with one another makes me vibrate intensely and I stopped writing CF for a time just so I can develop that whole ass side quest.

I...haaaave been scheming on how I can pluck aspects of Days Gone By and put them into TDG's universe though. I did decide that Eclipse should exist in TDG since they don't in DGB though! Eclipse in a post-apocalyptic setting SLAPS.

Tragically, Days Gone By is more cyberpunk-y than post-apocalyptic but tbh nothing really...Stops me from merge them into another AU...Or just posting what I write with The Deep Grim and just removing mentions of ears or tails lol

hello bello !! i was just wondering, since i've seen you mention them a few times, what does "kvei" mean?

Kvei is shorthand for Kveikur, who is a character of mine from my own personal stories! They're the base for the Y/N for Days Gone By and Cold Front. She's a bit different vs that actual Y/N so it's not impossible to project yourself onto, but admittedly the further I get into the story, the more I wonder how much I can get away with Y/N being so vague lmfao. We shall see, I guess!!

Wish I had more to show at this moment because I do REALLY, REALLY love Kvei as a character because of DGB, but I actually only started to develop her because of DGB so she...has no art or reference atm. I know exactly what she looks like though so it'll be fixed soon for art reasons.

[blughxreader]

... "Re-connection Session" ...

A/B/O Platonic Yandere! Dick Grayson & Jason Todd x f! Reader

You never should have let Damian sleep in your lap, especially after rejecting Dick and Jason's request for attention. Now you have their jealousy to resolve. ... Dick and Jason are alphas and you are an omega. People can purr in this AU. ... TW: Blurred lines between family and intimacy, post-kidnap, non-consensual touching, forced proximity, being forced to undress, non-sexual nudity, traditional secondary gender roles

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror in silent dread.

Dick's old shirt hung low on your frame, the neckline falling past your collarbones and the hem dropping to your fingertips. The sleeves, thankfully, covered you to your elbows, but the desired effect was the same: easy access to your body.

This, accompanied by your underwear and Jason's basketball shorts were all you were allowed to wear.

Fear sat in your stomach line a rock. You were sure you were releasing enough panic pheromones to alert the whole house, but there was no frantic knocking to save you. Just you, your pounding heart, and the two men on the other side of the door.

Wiping your sweaty hands down your pants, you gave yourself one last look before leaving the bathroom. Dick's bedroom spread out before you, filled with old memorabilia and a large, plush bed in the center.

Dick and Jason were leaning against the wall in wait, arms crossed and heads tilted back. Dick grinned when he saw you.

"Alright, good," he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. "It's a little late for an afternoon nap, so movie time?"

Dick's scent clung to you like a cologne, sweet and tangy. An alpha's smell was already stronger to omegas, but being wrapped in his shirt and pressed into his side was almost overwhelming. Jason, whose scent was more earthy and metallic, was a small reprieve.

Jason looked you up and down, appraising your posture and expression. You knew it was useless to try to hide your feelings, but you couldn't fight the urge to look away. You crossed your arms to cover yourself.

He reached over and ran a hand over your temple, brushing back stray curls. Jason, while never the most emotive on a day-to-day basis, had a cloudy expression today. His gaze bore into you, drinking up every micro-expression you tried to hide and cataloguing each one.

"No trash TV," Jason finally said. He dropped his hand and fell into stride with you and Dick, who was guiding you to his bed.

Dick dipped his head down so his cheek brushed your forehead. "What do you want to watch?"

"Anything is fine."

"Nope, that's not allowed," Dick lightly scolded. "This weekend's all about getting familiar. You need to learn how to go along with the family."

Your mind blanked as you scrambled to remember any move you've ever seen before. Embarrassment pricked your cheeks. "Maybe Pixar..."

Dick stopped you at the edge of the bed. He ruffled the back of Jason's hair before slapping his back, earning his hand a hard swat.

"You first, little wing."

Jason rolled his eyes and climbed on the bed, flopping into place on the silk covers. Dick ushered you on next with gentle hands, not giving you an inch of space as he followed suit.

You were settled into Jason's side, your front pressing into the long expanse of his body. Jason shifted and pulled off his shirt with one hand, tossing it off the bed before leaning back into you.

Your insides lurched at his naked chest, and you were boneless when he guided your head to rest on his shoulder. Jason's body was warm and sturdy. He eclipsed you in ways that made your heart flutter.

You tighten your arms around your chest to keep these stray feelings at bay.

Dick settled behind you with a happy sigh, shirtless as well. He weaseled your arm out of your hold and settled it over Jason's chest to maximize contact, then rested his hand on your waist.

His breath fanned the back of your head when he whispered, "I'm going to lift your shirt up now."

You held back a whimper when his hand slid beneath your shirt, trailing up your stomach to settle between your ribs. His palm spread flat, fingers reaching the better half of your stomach. He was dangerously close to brushing your breasts, but remained careful not to stray too far up.

Jason's hand trailed in next, gliding over your hip and up your spine, where it settled between your shoulder blades. His thumb brushed up and down in slow, even strokes.

They were everywhere. Their arms lay flushed against your body, touching as much skin as they possibly could, while their stomachs pressed into yours where your shirt had slid up. Their nudged your legs until you were tangled in theirs.

As hard as you tried to fight it, it was instinctual for pack members to seek physical contact. Touch was one of the most primal and easiest ways to show affection and community, so you knew that your days of solitude were numbered.

But this...

Tingles spread through your whole body, exacerbated by how touch-starved you were. The feeling of oneness, of unbridled intimacy with your family, sank deep into your heart.

Resist, resist, resist. You're stronger than these urges.

Your breathing accelerated. You knew what to expect going into this, but nothing could have prepared you for how emotionally penetrating it was. It was as if your very nature and mind were at war.

A steady purr rumbled in their chests as they basked in your company, soaking in as much of your warmth as they could. Jason's nose brushed your forehead, placing feather light kisses where he could reach. Dick was crooning.

Cold sweat prickled your skin.

Your hand tightened around Jason's back as claustrophobia set in. The purring turned to a low rumble and the pheromones in the air turned sour.

"Hey," Jason said softly. "You have to settle down."

You swallowed thickly to abate your fear. "You guys got defensive."

Dick nudged his nose on your neck, right above your scent glands. "Because you started smelling scared."

Oh.

You inhale shakily to calm your nerves. Jason hummed in your ear, a low, pleased sound.

"Good girl," he said. "Keep doing that. We have you."

You sucked in a sharp breath in defiance. Jason humphed. Dick laughed against your skin and squeezed your stomach playfully, grinning as he said, "You're as bad as Damian."

They nestled you tighter between them, purrs rumbling anew. Amidst the panic in your chest stirred another feeling. Maybe it's because you're getting drunk on an alpha's attention, but you felt a childish need to complain.

"How long will this take?" You asked, shifting uncomfortably between their sandwiched bodies.

Jason's face tightened around his eyes. "As long as it takes."

"For what?" you asked, frustration bubbling up your throat. "I've more than made up for turning you down yesterday."

"You need to want our touch," Dick said. He hesitated, mulling over if he should continue, then went on. "I think that if you let your guard down for a second and trusted your instincts, you would understand how much you need this."

"My guard is down. I'm completely defenseless," you hissed.

"Not what he was talking about. And that's what I'm not understanding, either," Jason said, frowning. "You're confused. You're completely out of touch with yourself."

The silence was heavy. They were waiting for you to speak, but you didn't trust anything that would come out of your mouth. You let the silence stretch on.

Jason's grimace deepened. "Are you having trouble being an omega because you were never taught how to be one?"

You scoffed, scandalized. Your frustration sparked into flames. "Because I don't know my place in an alpha's narrative?"

"No," Jason said defensively. "Because you don't know how to purr."

You couldn't respond.

You hadn't purred in years because there was no reason to. You weren't young, haven't dated in ages, didn't have any kids, and you definitely weren't about to purr for the Bats.

"I haven't heard you croon either. Or even ask to be held," Dick mumbled in thought.

Heat crept up your neck. They were wading in embarrassing waters now. You weren't a loser, just a little lonely—that's the only reason you stopped doing omegean things. And being their captive was a good enough reason to withhold everything.

These thoughts were enough when you were alone, but the shame creeping up your chest was startling.

Jason's hand drifted to your face, fingers sliding gently over your cheek. He used a knuckle to brush the tears from your eyelashes.

"It's okay to face these scary feelings," Jason whispered, face mere inches away. He looked at you with sad, loving eyes, while his scent was a whirlwind of conflicting emotion. Hope. Pity. Anger. Love.

Dick kissed the shell of your ear, thumb gliding over your skin where his hand rested. A soft rumble drifted from his chest. He said, "You're safe with us. It'll come naturally if you just let it."

The crux was that you didn't want to try. You wanted to withhold every valuable part of yourself from them and to make them pay for ruining your life.

But at the same time, you yearned to have a family. There was a vital part in your heart that was missing, one that could only be filled by belonging and love. You didn't want to ignore your secondary gender but you didn't want to share it with them, either.

Don't whimper. Don't smell like you want help.

You clamped your jaw shut and squeezed your eyes closed. Their pheromones filled the air with comfort, home, want, and it took every ounce of willpower to ignore the alphas' scents.

Jason kissed your eyelid, cupping your head in his palm. His purring and crooning joined Dick's, and it nearly drowned out your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

---

You passed the night in a daze. They nudged you to try to croon or purr, washing you with their scents and physical contact, but their efforts didn't yield results. Outwardly, that is.

Inside, you were swimming with panic and haziness.

Skin-to-skin touching was starting to take a toll on you. In a stronger headspace, you could ignore the pleasant allure of touching them, but your boundaries and primal needs were beginning to blur.

They felt good. They felt safe. You wanted to cling to Jason's chest and sob in relief at finally being wanted. You wanted Dick to keep cooing and petting you like you were the most cherished thing in his life. Each kiss stoked a fire you were desperately trying to put out.

At the same time, your defiance was making them restless. Dick and Jason had begun to smell more potent and move more assertively. Omegas weren't meant to resist their alpha pack members, especially in a domestic setting.

Despite a tiring night of caressing and pleading, you didn't loosen your tight control on your emotions. Dick and Jason were still completely cut off from you, and you could tell they were thinking of ways to get you to fold.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, accompanied by the muffled voices of Sunday morning cartoons. All of you were on Dick's bed and eating in silence.

The soup in your lap was one of Alfred's "sick soups." It was hardy and chock-full of vegetables and pork, and made especially to ease the tension in the room.

Their heavy gazes kept your head bowed as you tried to eat what little food you could.

Dick's bowl clinked as he set it on the floor.

"Submission isn't shameful," he said suddenly. "Is that what this is? You think it makes you less of a person?"

You look down into your soup, lips tightening. "No, I know it's fine... I would just prefer to keep things how they are."

"Why?" Dick said, scooting closer to you.

"It's my choice."

"No, why?" Frustration cut into Dick's voice. "I'm trying to work with you."

"Is bodily autonomy not a good enough reason?" You bit back. "I don't know, Dick. 'No' should be a good enough answer."

Jason's hand touched your back, making you lurch forward. Soup nearly spilled from your bowl, but Dick caught it in time. Jason sighed angrily while Dick set your food on the bedside table.

"This isn't normal," Jason said hotly. "Omegas shouldn't flinch at their caretakers, especially when they're treated as well as you are."

You gripped the bed sheets, guilt filtering in at the truth in his words. "Sorry," you said meekly.

Jason deflated slightly, then brought his hand back up. It settled on the nape of your neck, his large palm cupping the entire surface. Tingles rippled through your body and ignited goosebumps across your back.

Jason rested his head on yours, absently rubbing the scent pad in his cheek on your hair. He said, "Did something bad happen that made you afraid?"

"No," you said quickly. Aside from being kidnapped by them, that is.

Dick moved in closer. His voice was soft. "Then why?"

"I just..." You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your eyes with a palm. "This domesticity just isn't for me."

"You need to practice," Dick reiterated. "Maybe we can give you a simple command and you follow it? So you'll get used to how it feels?"

You peek between your fingers to glare at him.

"No, really. I read some omegean blogs that said yielding to your alpha's orders feels really good." Dick looked between you and Jason hopefully. "Or we can read some articles by older omegas so you know how to handle your feelings?"

You held back a sharp comment about where he can shove those articles. Instead you said, "Only people with religious agendas write those things."

Jason looked like he agreed, but he didn't take your side.

"We can't do nothing," Jason said, eyes flitting up to Dick.

Dick sucked the inside of his cheek. "And she's unresponsive to positive reinforcement and suggestions."

Fear brewed in your gut. "What are you implying?"

Dick touched your knee, drawing your attention to his face. "You need to purr. Or present submissive pheromones. It'll break the dam so everything comes out easier."

A blush swept up your face and you jerked your knee away from him. "You can't just ask that. No. My answer is no."

Dick's gaze returned to Jason's. Dick frowned, then quirked a brow. "People purr to self-sooth, too."

You tensed. "Dick. Stop."

Jason hesitated, face pinching at the fear in your scent. "What do you suggest?"

"Full body contact and commands. It'll overwhelm her, so she'll self-sooth then default to the natural order."

"Jason." Your voice was high and sharp. "Make him stop. This is wrong."

"Jay," Dick said, looking every bit as sincere as he sounded. "I know you're apprehensive, but she won't come to this conclusion herself. She needs to be guided in a controlled environment."

Jason's face screwed up in worry. "It's traumatic."

"Temporarily. She'll be in our care the whole time," Dick reassured him. "It'll be over the moment she submits."

"Please, Jason, no!" You pushed your face into Jason's chest, clinging to his chest. Tears poured down your face as you shook. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder. Whatever this is, don't do it."

Jason's jaw set, the muscles in his neck flexing. "Then purr."

"What?"

"I'm giving you a way out. You have to trigger your primal state and ask for our care. It's not something you can do manually, so start by purring."

"I..." Your breath caught in your lungs. You were too scared to purr, much less seek their comfort for anything.

You swallowed hard and coughed weakly, trying to activate your secondary vocal cords.

Several moments of silence passed before a small huff of a rumble left your throat. It sounded pathetic to your own ears, probably more-so to theirs, and your throat constricted from embarrassment.

"Forcing me won't make me want to... do that," you said weakly, breath hitching from your tears. "Isn't there another way?"

Dick sighed deeply. "Thanks for trying."

He leaned in and kissed your neck, rubbing his hand in comforting circles on your back. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, still shaking against Jason's chest. Dick smiled softly and kissed your neck again before drawing back.

"Jason," Dick said, "hold her feet down."

Jason's hands clamped around your legs before you could register Dick's words. Your world tilted and you were on your back before you could shout.

"No! Please!" You thrashed against his hold when Dick descended on you.

Dick put a hand on your chest to keep you down, then pinned you with his knee. Your hands clawed everywhere you could reach, but they paid no mind.

"You're fine. You're wearing underwear, right?" Dick asked. His finger hooked on your waistband, pulling it up to confirm. "Yeah. Look, just focus on breathing."

"No! No!" you shrieked as your pants slipped down your thighs.

Jason kept you from kicking, although it probably wouldn't matter either way. Their bodies were hardened from years of vigilante work and they moved together like a machine.

They unhooked your pants from your ankles and dropped it off the bed. You tried to curl into a ball, but their weight on your body kept you immobile.

You begged again, reaching out to Jason for help. His face was twisted in pain but he made no move to stop it. The comforting scent he pushed out did nothing to quell your panic.

Dick hushed you gently, face pleasant and movements slow, and reached for your shirt.

"I'm not wearing a bra!" you shouted hysterically, trying fruitlessly to push his knee off your chest.

Dick looked down at you patiently. "Then slip your arms in your shirt and cover yourself."

You stared up at him with wide eyes. Was he really, really about to do this? Trigger you so it activates your omegean instincts?

When he grabbed the edge of your shirt, your heart jumped up your throat. You wrangled your arms inside your sleeves and covered your breasts as well as you could.

Dick took his knee off your chest and dragged the shirt up over your body. It slid off with ease, leaving you in only your underwear.

You sobbed loudly.

Jason scooped you into his arms and pulled you up the bed. He settled you on a soft pillow, nuzzling his cheek against yours in silent apology.

You immediately curled into a ball when their hands left you. To your horror you saw them strip off their pants as well, leaving them in only their boxers.

"God, stop," you plead, voice breaking.

"It's okay," Dick whispered as he slid into place in front of you. "We do this all the time. It's important."

Perhaps he was referring to the after-workout cuddle piles, but even those had longer pants and chest coverage for girls.

The heat from their bodies sank into your flesh and disrupted your frantic thinking. Your alphas—no, Dick and Jason, you corrected—held you like you were sacred. It was a feeling of your deepest daydreams come true, to have a pack that was so open about their care for you.

If only they hadn't kidnapped you.

The compulsion to accept their love dug deep in your mind, and you found it harder and harder to remember the reasons why you shouldn't. Your anger began to seem trivial compared to the safety and adoration they promised.

Tears fell down your cheeks again, and you clung to Dick's chest to anchor yourself. He laid several kisses on the crown of your head.

"I'm going to give you some orders, okay?" Dick said. "You'll be compelled to follow them."

"I don't want to," you croaked.

"That time has passed," Jason mumbled, stroking your arm with his thumb.

Dick cleared his throat, and your blood ran cold in anticipation.

"Hold Jason's hand." Dick's alpha voice struck you like a cannon.

The command wound around every corner of your mind. It strangled your freewill in a vice hold, suffocating any lingering thoughts of freedom until all that was left was them.

An alpha's command wasn't absolute, but it was damn near close.

Your insides rattle with a urge to hurry, hurry and complete alpha's orders. Make Brother happy.

Cold sweat spread across your back, making you feel sickly and sticky. Your eyesight narrowed to Dick's chest as you fought off the intrusive thoughts, not noticing anything but your vision blackening around the edges.

Please, no no no no no.

Jason's hand hovered next to yours, making it easy for you to obey.

"I... I c-c..." you stuttered.

Follow, follow, follow, your mind screamed at you. Brother will be disappointed.

You clung to Dick's bicep and screwed your eyes shut. A disapproving growl bubbled in Dick's throat.

"Take it," Dick ordered, grabbing your wrist and holding it above Jason's hand. "It's for your own good, so take it."

Jason bumped his head into yours and pushed you towards Dick's neck. You tried to squirm away, but their bodies kept you immobile, leaving your only option to settle your nose into Dick's neck and breathe.

The smell was intoxicating. It was impossible to fight off—his warm and strong scent flooding your head and making your mind melt.

Without you realizing, a broken whine left your throat. Dick and Jason reacted instantly. They hugged you tighter, shushing you and peppering kisses wherever they could reach.

Their scent changed too. Frustration was pushed out by love, comfort, love, and it smothered your senses. You whimpered, your whole body shuttering from your tears.

Fuck, you wanted your alphas so badly. Your brother's comfort enveloped you and left nothing else to do but welcome it.

Your guilt and doubt multiplied at rapid speed. Maybe you were wrong for rejecting this. Being close and following their orders felt as good as Dick had said, so maybe they were right about other things, too.

"She's defaulting" Jason said, words fast and nervous.

You whined again, broken and airy and filled with all the conflicting misery you felt. Your sense of self slipped between your fingers like water, making room for the person they wanted you to become—who you were commanded to become.

The heat of their bodies made your world spin. Their loving touches make your mind blank.

Dick shushed you and cooed comforting words, and the resilient voice in your head silenced.

Oh god, they felt like your soulmates. This seemed predestined, like you were born to be in their family.

Your exposed bodies pressing together destroyed the illusion of self, giving way to their truest law: you were theirs, body and soul.

"One more time," Dick muttered. His voice deepened to say, "Hold Jason's hand."

You moved without thinking. Your fingers tangled into Jason's, your palm laying flat over his hand.

Relief bloomed in your chest, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted. The compulsion was replaced by deep satisfaction, one you found yourself craving again.

You listened and did good. Brothers are happy. You are loved.

Dick's grin was radiant. Tears sprung in his eyes as emotions overtook him, making his blue irises shine like gems. Quiet sniffles came from behind you, and by the jerkiness in Jason's body, you knew he was crying.

"Good girl," Dick praised, voice watery. "My baby."

Jason's nose pressed into your neck, taking shaky breaths of your scent. It calmed him slightly, yet his voice was still uneven. "She's feeling better. Do another one, Dick."

"Kiss me," Dick ordered.

Your lips pressed against his shoulder, and again on his collarbone. Dick laughed and sniffled, unintelligible croons tumbling from his mouth.

Your mind was a haze, unable to process anything but the two alphas around you. Your brothers were here and you were safe. How had you lived without this love for so long?

It was like an avalanche of pent-up emotions poured into your body. You were relieved to be free, angry at the pain you inflicted on yourself, and so, so happy to belong to Dick and Jason.

"I love you," Jason muttered into your hair.

Dick kissed your face, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb over your skin. "I love you so much."

Your inner omega melted.

Love, love, love. Their scent consumed you.

You felt defined by their love, and felt like you would be nothing outside of it.

---

Dick's head was light from glee. "Did you see her stumble out of bed? She was still riding that high."

Jason didn't respond. He sat at the edge of Dick's bed while the aforementioned brother paced around his room.

Dick was too worked up to wait for a response.

"I bet it'll only take a week or two before she seeks the pack out. The attention's like a drug, you know. " Dick waved a hand. "I forgot the chemical. Whatever. But she definitely can't go back to being detached."

Jason's stomach squeezed at Dick's prideful smile.

"I feel slimy," Jason said, gripping his hands together tightly.

Dick abruptly stopped. "What?"

Jason didn't respond. He stared up at Dick with a grim look.

Several expressions passed Dick's face before he said, "That's all you took away from this?"

"I've written papers about why overpowering omegas is outdated and wrong."

"Yeah? I agreed too until we had a hurting omega in our care," Dick said. "Besides, if you feel like that then why didn't you say anything?"

Jason's jaw muscles tightened. "I said using an alpha's command was shitty, not unnecessary."

"It was beautiful, Jason," Dick hissed, temper flaring. "And she'll be happier because of it."

Dick stormed out, his good mood evaporated. The door slammed behind him, and Jason waited until he couldn't hear Dick's stomping before heaving a long sigh.

Jason hoped you wouldn't be too upset once you accepted their care. He made a vow to keep you safe and happy, and he would fulfill that promise even if you hated him for it.

Still, it hurt.

Jason's eyes drifted back to Dick's bed, to the spot where you had been lying. He crawled over and laid down, pushing his face into the sheets, and inhaled your fading scent.

---

For more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

[burner141]

Crazy thought, guys, but um Among Us x tf141? Erm, this could be because I've been reading Fear of God by @ceilidho (go read it, its lit), but I don't know much about eltrich horrors, so instead, you're getting Amogus.

So the first concept I'd like to explore is reader as the imposter. Super nervous, but still trying to fulfill their duties.

You had been trying to sabotage the crew mates at every turn, but somehow, it felt like you were the victim in all of this. Soap wouldn't stop following you around, yapping about something you couldn't even pretend to hear. Foam filled your brain when you thought about how you were going to do your tasks and mess up as many as possible. You heard his voice fade out in the background. Hopefully, he'd given up his daily chirping to you and started on Gaz. You had more important things to do than be swept up in his eager conversation.

A shadow eclipsed your path.

"Y'alright, hen? Lookin' a bit pale." Soap's face invaded your personal space as he bent down to examine you. You couldn't turn neutral fast enough. His eyes had already found what they needed to. It was easy to forget how perceptive he was with the laidback show he put on for you.

Could he see the sweat on the side of your neck? Were your ears turning red?

You didn't know, but now he did. It seemed irrelevant, but any minute detail of yours was stored in a large mental filing cabinet he had marked just for you. And your physical reactions? Very relevant.

You brushed him off, mumbling an excuse about having some tasks to do, which was true enough.

After your first kill, you started spiraling. It's not like you cared about the person you killed. You just regretted how the spotlight swiveled onto you almost immediately. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost had such a strong bond. They had no room to doubt one another. Which left you and a few other crew mates. How was it possible for such a simple job to turn into a nerve-wracking challenge?

It was like they could hear your internal monologuing, your repeated reminders to stay calm, and do what you were here to do. It was anxiety-riddling and humiliating. You were supposed to be causing them trouble. Yet, you found yourself in a position akin to a rat in a maze. You knew your way around, but there was someone above you who could see your every move.

You started towards Electrical, ready to mess up some wires. It wasn't a hard task, but the thought of those blue eyes on you or that silent mammoth - "Ghost," they called him - following you in the shadows, even though he wasn't an imposter, it scattered your thoughts. You opened an electrical panel, concentrating on the colors, hoping that sabotage would clear your mind.

"Blue goes with blue, love." You slammed the panel shut, your entire body stiffening as a deep voice admonished you from behind.

"Ah, John. Yeah. Sorry, so tired lately. My bad." Your words were choppy and breathy, unbelievable even to your ears. Practiced lines didn't come off as natural in person. You rewired your work, putting everything properly in place - unfamiliar movements.

You turned around to find John less than a foot away from you. You avoided eye contact and made a move to skirt around him. He gave you no space to.

"Go take a nap, sweetheart. Sure you'll feel better then." A command.

You nodded to appease him, expecting him to move out of the way and disappear into the shadows. But no. Price walked you to your room, silently matching your pace. Your own personal warden.

You shut your room door without looking back at him. Your nails dug into your skin. How could you fail such a simple task? How could you get caught?

You'd have to make up for it later. After your nap.

[amarynthian-chronicles]

(continuation under the cut)

The Celestial Library had appeared near your house seemingly out of nowhere, magnificent, walls speckled with stars of gold, windows made of finest painted glass, depicting the radiant sun, the mysterious moon and the formidable eclipse. The friendly solar-themed librarian would always try to lure you within as you passed by, sweet promises accompanied by words of honey.

"Star light, Star bright, gracing my sight with sweet delight, won't you come and see, if my humble halls hold any special books for thee? Certainly my shelves hold a treasure more divine than gold, stories and knowledge, prophecies foretold. Won't you come and see?"

You would smile politely, telling him maybe another day, you were in a hurry to get to work. Always working, always tired. Forever busy, dark circles had settled under your eyes. Perhaps one day a single hour may not hurt? Perhaps you could find a few special books to borrow and take home, maybe they would help you feel joy.

And so, you had entered the beautiful library, amazed with the myriad of books, endless and endless halls. Sun made an elegant bow and took your hand, showing you wonders yet uncovered, dazzling you with stories untold. Inexplicably, he conjured silhouettes of characters as he read each tale, summoned sounds and music, making the books come alive. Your reason told you it was technology. Your heart, aware of magical forces, kept warning you to run. Wishing to ignore such notions, you asked:

"How long must I wait for my library card to be made?"

"No need for a card nor membership fee, my Starlight. There is only one rule. Return the books on time, time, time!"

"And how much do I pay if I happen to be late?"

Sun's grin suddenly widens, sinister, his blue gaze becoming silver, pupils disappearing as he leans closer to you, whispering.

"Everything."

Before you could react, he giggled, patting you on the head.

"Silly Starlight! 'Tis but a jest, do pardon this poor librarian for scaring you so! Come, come, worry not that beautiful mind with such details!"

Sun kissed your hand in a gentlemanly manner, leading you towards the area containing comfortable reading rooms with ceilings adorned with crescent moons, stars twinkling, gentle classical music being played. One might even think of taking a nap after a reading session in such a location. Nevertheless, each time you wished to ask whether there was a lunar-themed counterpart, Sun would distract you with new wonders.

Curious and wishing to learn more, you had attempted to explore on your own, asking Sun to fetch certain novels for you. As he did so, you began to wander, disobeying his command ("just sit right here and don't move").

Meandering halls had become darker, sepulchral, distant echoes of the damned present in each corridor. You had gotten lost, there was no doubt of that. The penumbral corridors had become haunted, stairs disappearing, windows opening to distorted dimensions. Overcome by panic, you had bumped into a bookshelf, making several tomes fall, the pages having a mind of their own as they turned and turned, demonic entities reaching out with clawed hands, grabbing you by the ankles. Terror engulfed you as they began to drag you within the book.

"Help! Sun! Anyone!"

Closing your eyes, you did not see the grandiose guardian approaching, golden eyes glowing, intent to punish the demons that had dared to lay their hands upon you. A swift movement of his fingers and the tomes had turned to ash, the beings within sent to oblivion. Four arms cradled you, holding you close. A dark voice purred into your ear.

"Has Sunny not warned you not to wander on your own in these haunted halls, little moth? The archives are a forbidden and dangerous place. Was the warmth of the flame so irresistible? Tender are your wings, gentle is your soul, you have much to learn before you gain the power to tame monsters."

Clinging to your saviour, you looked upwards, entranced with his regal beauty. One might describe him as quite similar to Sun in appearance, yet his stature was imposing, rays sharper, numerous, akin to a crown adorning his dark features, eyes of gold, teeth reminiscent of razors. A cloak billowed around him, the fabric seemingly having a mind of its own. You struggled to form coherent thought.

"W-what? What was, what the-...you know what, I am honestly not even going to comment on the special effects budget this library has. Pardon me, sir, I did not mean to intrude in your department. I am Y/N. Mister Sun was giving me a tour, but I...well, I wandered off without his knowledge."

Sun's high-pitched voice was heard as he appeared in the corridor.

"Sly little minx! Disobedient little rulebreaker! What did I say? Hmmmm?"

You pouted. "Technically you only said there was only one rule."

Sun made a huff, before smiling kindly once more.

"I see you have already met the Archivist of this fine establishment, my dear Starlight. Eclipse is a true magician when it comes to dealing with unruly scripts and capricious ancient secrets. However, should you ever wish to discover that which is Forbidden, you will need a special Pass. Which you are definitely not ready for!"

As if taking back a beloved toy, Sun had stolen you from Eclipse's arms, much to the older brother's chagrin. Eclipse leaned over to speak, his voice low enough only for Sun to hear.

"Sunny, such haste, the precious starry moth belongs to all of us equally. Be gentle as you lure their divine soul into our clutches, the web of a spider must equally use the tricks of light and the cover of shadow. "

"All in due time, brother dearest, have faith."

Dazed from such an eventful day, and amazed at the achievements of modern "technology" that had allowed libraries to have such intensely realistic special effects for an immersive experience, you placed a pile of chosen books on Sun's desk, waiting for him to scan them.

"Remember, Starlight..."

"Yes, yes, I will return them on time."

You did not notice when Sun had secretly slipped a small book into your coat pocket. It would spell your doom and sing of your entrapment.

Days and weeks had passed. You had diligently returned all of the books you had taken from the Celestial Library, thinking you had no debt to be repaid, your record perfectly clean. Blissfully unaware of your time running out, the tiny book happily resting within your coat pocket. Each second that had passed whispered of what was to come. Shadows would move along the walls, sinister giggles of a dark jester present in the night, red eyes set upon you, desiring you, waiting, yearning.

On a dark and thunderous night, the final second had passed. You were all comfortable in bed, dreaming, delectable. The ominous lunar librarian grinning at you. Time was up.

"Naughty, naughty, you must be punished..."

Silken crimson ribbons were wrapped around your wrists, gentle, yet firm. You yawned cutely as you felt yourself being lifted as a new bride as Moon held you in his strong arms. Deeming it to be a mere dream and a product of insane stories, you merely nuzzled his chest, returning to sleep.

Moon purred, admiring you, adoring you, carrying you away, back to the Celestial Library where you had always belonged. His dark raspy voice was carried by the wind as he spoke softly:

"May your dreams provide a soft nest for your soul, beautiful comet, and I vow to make your waking reality ten times as magnificent."