#good that there's no nest or bad that there is one but hidden very well

[tcustodisart]

I need to draw her more often...

[holmsister]

I think one of the things Dungeon Meshi is definitely about is how different people deal with being an outsider/marginalised/neurodivergent/what have you and basically what im getting at is that Kabru is TEXTBOOK "high functioning [insert diagnosis here]". Its that how they say it still? Don't care.

Basically. This man shows up and you listens to him talk and see how his party treats him and you think. Oh this is a cool guy who has his shit together. And then after like two pages you find out that he has constant flashbacks to Utaya that make him completely freeze, anxiety attacks, thought spirals, is incapable of analyzing his own feelings, is a stuttering mess when the stakes are high, has never done a chore in his life, keeps putting himself in triggering situations and re-traumatising himself, and the icing on the cake is when you read the extra material and it turns out he regularly forgets to eat and lives in a depression nest of dirty clothes and self-medicates insomnia with alcohol and also is 22. Which also kind of puts Misilril not wanting to let him go in another light - yeah for sure she's controlling and infantilising and also its not like she was really helping his issues but also she was not entirely wrong in her judgement. This man does NOT know how to take care of himself. He knows how to do the bare minimum so when he shows up at work the next day he can fool his coworkers into thinking hes got it together enough. For a bit.

He is DEEPLY unwell and he knows it but he is carried by the desperate wish to avoid another catastrophe. If he stops for a moment he KNOWS he'll collapse so he doesn't.

I also think this is why him acting nurse to Mithrun is such an important part of his arc. Its like. This person who has spent all of his adult life focused on a single objective disregarding everything else is faced with what happens when you do that for too long. And the result is a wet tissue of a creature who looks like he doesn't know where he is most of the time.

He is a man on the brink. I have no doubt he felt relieved when he decided he could trust Laios - not even in a Labru way, straight up because he knew he could not keep going like this.

But also like. Of all the characters in the manga, I think Senshi and Kabru are the most lonely ones. Except Senshi seems to be OK with solitude - for sure it's not entirely healthy to be alone for as long as he was but he definitely did well enough. He is very good at taking care of himself. Meanwhile Kabru *knows* a lot of people but can you really say he has friends? Rin, maybe, arguably, but even she does not seem to truly know him, you know? He keeps himself hidden from everyone. I think the only time we see him entirely honest is when he says to Laios that he wanted to be his friend, and hes so shocked when it comes out, you can tell he did not mean to say it. And differently from Senshi, he does NOT fare well alone. He likes people, he needs people. Again compare with Mithrun - he has like a squad of people taking care of him. If Kabru had a breakdown of that size can you say his party would go out of its way to help? Im not sure. Not because they're bad people, but because he's simply not that intimate with any of them.

Idk man it just struck me all of a sudden. Laios is weird and offputting and doesn't care about other humans the way Kabru does and YET he is infinitely more successful at building deep, meaningful relationships and taking care of himself as well. I think this is part of why Kabru is so fascinated with him as well. He can tell Laios has something he doesn't have. Wait this is turning into a whole another post I'll write this next time.

[yandere-sins]

Okay, what if the beta is just so defeated that they 'accept' being the omega's 'alpha' in one condition. Never feature him on his work ever again, or even more, delete all of the content featuring him. if the beta is sly, he could add that he is too jealous that they see him being so sexy and he wants to monopolize all of that when they mate, he doesn't want them to see their private intimacy, but in reality he doesn't want the sickos to see him

Oh gosh, I'm just imagining the two of you cuddling on the couch (or well, the yan climbed on your lap and forced you to actually participate in life and not space out for once), and for some reason, they decide to give you their phone, pushing it in your hand. Maybe the omega wanted to 'show' you a specific comment on their video, but in the end, they allow you to keep scrolling to your heart's content while they cuddle with you. The omega can clearly see how horrified you are as your read all these nasty comments from people wanting you to fuck them, too, after seeing your 'debut' video. But your captor enjoys it, especially when you bloom to live, gasping and frowning, embarrassment written all over your face.

Everything you read is vile and disgusting, especially when it reminds you of how you were used and forced to do these things that so many perverts pay for and 'enjoy' watching. You throw the phone away and, with tears in your eyes, beg the omega to delete the video and make these disgusting people stop commenting on you, your body, or your 'performance', never having realized just HOW famous the omega really is. It's bad enough that you have to live under these conditions, but you should at least have a say about what people are allowed to see of you.

And the omega, well... you know they planned all of this. They wanted this breakdown to happen because frankly? It's gotten a bit boring with you shutting down most of the time. The yan wanted to get a rise out of you, wanted their beloved beta to beg and squirm and almost cry, so the omega can play the little hero and kiss your tears away, promising they will delete it if it bothers you so. Like a good partner. Because they love you.

That is if you do something for the omega in return.

You have no idea what you're agreeing to when they ask you to 'become' the alpha they know you are. At that moment, you cannot imagine the cruelty of submission it takes for the omega's wish to come true. Of course, the yandere is overjoyed to hear all the little promises about you trying to behave like an actual alpha and your very cute tactics to gain some brownie points with the omega.

They know you're only talking big when you say how jealous you are about others seeing you two. How you don't like it when strangers can see your lovely omega, and that you want them all to yourself. Really, for a moment, you made the omega's heart flutter as if they were still a teenager with a crush. These are all the words they ever wanted to hear from their lips, and when you try so hard to be 'alpha', kissing the omega awkwardly, they just melt into you.

But it's not enough.

You got to do a bit more than that, 'Alpha'.

They'll demand you to take them to the nest, prove that you can be what they want while promising on everything holy that they'll delete all the videos if you step up to the challenge. The omega is squealing in delight when you force yourself to pick them up, carrying them down into the basement, to their nest. To the place you've been avoiding like the pest since your drug-induced rut, your knees shaking as you stagger down the stairs. Gosh, they are so happy.

All they need to do is click the little button inside their pocket so that the dozen newly installed hidden cameras turn on, the lifestream starting simultaneously. They are so happy to finally get a real mating bite, a true lover's kiss, and another amazing million in their bank account when their viewers get what they always wanted: Something real.

And you are none the wiser as you do your due diligence, a massive grin on the omega's face from knowing their plan worked perfectly, their toes curling as moans echo out of the love nest.

[macsimagines]

Can i ask for some nsfw headcanons for Alpha Izana, Rindou and Koko?

(Thank you for this request, I think I like ABO smut stuff more than yandere theres just not a big enough fanbase. I oughta add in a hybrid au too! -Ms.Mac)

Yandere! Alpha Izana

He meets you at the orphanage and basically imprints. Your soft sweet scent and pretty doe eyes, something in Izana (that he doesn't really understand) tells him that you belong to him.

(I know not everyone likes this trope buuut) You're his fated mate, he realizes years later when he finds you again. And now he understands why as a kid you belonged to him.

No one was allowed to play with you and you weren't allowed to smell like anyone else.

Now that he's finally presented and he can smell the omega on you he stakes his claim.

You're very willing of course, something in you always wanted Izana back, but something about the way he tells you you're never going to leave him doesn't exactly encourage you.

You build a nest in his den though, make sure its so nice and pretty, and Izana is doing everything to protect you. He has guards watching his place and Kakucho is standing guard right outside.

Knots you a few times before bonding you. It had to be perfect and you had to be saturated in his scent before he could really mark you.

When he bites you feel everything coming from his; Possession, Obsession, crazed fixated, no one can have you no one will take you

It'll be alright. It has to be. Your fated couldn't possibly be bad right?

Yandere! Alpha Rindou

You're the cute Omega next door that he's been enthralled with ever since you moved in.

The second he saw you he thought you were the most perfect innocent thing on the planet. The second he smelled you he knew you were his.

Tells his brother he's staking his claim. He knows you're the one and he wants you to be his alone. His brother allows it (Because he's got his own omega he's been thinking about)

Is marking his territory and now your apartment door smells like him. So does your clothes and all the appliances he's borrowed from you.

His brother asks you to go over and check on him since Rindou 'wasn't feeling well' but you're shocked when you show up (with soup and medicine) and he's in full rut.

Pretty baby let him have you, for whatever reason his rut addled brain makes him try to court you first? He's literally taking you in his arms and showing you his den.

He's shoving all his pillows and blankets at you giving you a plushy he's been saving for you, even bring out all the food in his fridge.

Pretty much an archaic tactic at showing a mate that an alpha can provide safety, comfort and food.

Then he's crooning deep and proud for you, like its a serenade, and you really fall hard for it all.

You tell him you'll help him with his heat just this once since he's borderline feral, but what you don't know if every load you take and every knot he gives you is just sinking you further and further as his.

When this is all over you're not going back home.

Yandere!Alpha Koko

Thank fuck an alpha on this list that knows how to court.

He knows he's not the strongest, and he knows he's not suavest, guy on the planet, but what he is; A provider.

You never need to worry about paying for food or clothes. He's got you. Your nest is filled with materials he bought (and thoroughly scented)

And he even payed for that very pretty and very expensive collar around your throat. Its basically an engagement ring and a big statement that says this Omega is spoken for.

Koko makes sure you have only name brand everything. Even appliances (and hidden cameras you don't know about shhhh)

Such a good Alpha. He even supports you when you suddenly loose your job? They won't tell you why, but you're fired now. You also can't seem to get another one no matter how hard you try!

Now you have to move out of your apartment, but its ok! Koko to the rescue. His pent house is big enough for you two (and many many pups)

Well since you're hear you two need to talk bonding and marriage.

"I know it's scary baby, but it's the next natural step. I mean we're practically bonded now."

He owns you if it isn't perfectly clear already.

The way he knots you and scents you and just completely destroys you in the "perfect nest" you made kinda seals that idea.

It's only a few months later when you've got a bonding mark on your neck and a pup in your belly that you start to wonder if Koko was really courting you or if he was buying you....

[capcavan]

can i ask about how many ways can a raven break (if thats one of the thing u can ask was a bit confused)

its one we really hope to turn into a fic we have a friend who is very excited for it (and is also our sensitivity reader) riko joins foxes and as part of his therapy with abby he keeps a journal where he writes long thought spirals any time he is anxious so that then he can consider whatever or not he wants to show it to Abby or not, the journal is here to help him keep his thoughts a bit more organized. At some point Riko notices new notes in the journal notes in German (his notes are always in Japanese) as well as doodles and drawings. this agitates him. he is aware that andrew is the only person reading his journal which he passively allows but after the notes started appearing he started hiding the journal. this leads to andrew growing suspicious, when few days later riko catches him going through journal he had hidden they get in a fightt (riko punches him all of sudden something that somehow never happened before). one thing leads to another and over course of following therapy with new therapist as bee was not qualified enough to diagnose him Riko is diagnosed with dissociative personality disorder (all parts of system refer to themselves as Riko but they do have nicknames they use as well) There is "Fox" (you can think about him as all my cute fox riko headcannosn and arts very energetic and full of life very fannon kind of riko)- Riko after joining the foxes, he is much more open in showing his emotions he is actually based on the rp "quarterhouse/roadkill" he dates renee aaron and kevin , genuinely loves life and is very unhappy when he finds out details of his condition - he feels extremally possessive of the body and time he has which leads to frustration towards other alters and fear that their actions might fuck up his already complicated life "Raven" (much closer to canon riko or even fandom riko - evil brody mad bad) - Raven was the first fronter and keeps most of memories from nest, this is why fox himself did not remember much form before joining foxes, raven hates fronting now, he misses nest he hates fox tower hates the foxes , his pride is still not healed, he does snot feel safe or accepted around them, he is nyctophile and still gets triggered into fronting any time its perfectly dark (when foxes figure that out there is some teasing happening about it which he despises) as well as when it rains. Raven loves kevin and feels posessive over jean and does not see reason why renee and aaron should be part of that. is the one who broke jean "captain" possibly riko's first split - captain is on the court and takes care of all things exy, he will become good friends with neil who will be the only reason captain starts fronting outside of games- just to chat about exy. captain is also not convinced about need for relationship with renee and aaron as he sees both to be mediocre players and he is straight (all of this plays a lot into aarons relationship insecurities and makes fox miserable and resentful of his alters). captain is very frustrated to find out he is not a captain any more and is pretty damn hurt over not being a captain anymore it is bit of crisis for him considering the title was core of his personality as far as he rememberer. later on riko get title of co captain <3 is very confused as to why jean can not play "King" - trauma holder, specifically physical abuse , hates fronting because feels phantom pains constantly "Princes" - a split made to help King cope with the psychological part of the abuse, princess is regressed little girl who just wants to be loved and cared for, jean is her knight and she can NOT find out who hurt him , it would break her

there is also danny who is split from one of riko's most constant abusers he does not front just provides bad vibes and keeps them on edge psyhologically fun stuff i love about it: Kevin absolutely can not deal with the fact that he is not the favourite person of all rikos fox woudl prefer not to choose but renee was his girlfriend before kevin became his boyfriend again raven sees kevin as his everything so this checks out captain also likes kevin but he end sup pretty taken by neils approach to the game over time princess loves jean and renee and idk she doe snot give a fuck about exy so can kevin shut up about it? (jean is delighted) king does not like anyone i don't think kevin should want to be dannys fave luckily nobody other than riko knows about danny anyway there's actually .. a lot of lore for this technically the ship is riko/renee/aaron/jean/kevin the same way like in quarterhouse but fox unlike raven feels embarrassment and shame for pact actions and doe snot feel even allowed to look at the man

[fleshdyke]

new equo design + more info under the cut

equo’s story takes place in some sort of magic au some time between darkstalker and the main arc, somewhere around 1200 years after darkstalker was defeated. in this au, magic is a vague and widely defined concept separate from animus powers, and it’s a pretty normal thing and considered a gift. witchcraft is possible, but it’s considered very taboo to talk about.

equo’s father was a seawing and her mother a nightwing, and he’s the result of a failed attempt to resuscitate the nightwing population via hybrids. the idea was to raise hybrid nightwings on the mainland so they would grow up healthy and take them back to the volcanic island once they reached adulthood, but not all of the dragonets were found, and equo was one of the ones that was never brought back. the nightwings had meticulous records of every dragonet, though, and kept looking for her and any other missing nightwing hybrids.

they were raised by its father on a tiny islet in the bay of a thousand scales, hidden in a cave or bushes for most of the day. equo has always loved swimming, and while he was limited to a little cove for most of his dragonethood, she’s very good at it. they’ve always suffered from chronic pain, so he usually prefers walking to flying and swimming over all else, but she can fly and isn’t bad at it. equo’s always preferred meat over plants, no matter how much their father tried to get it to eat a much more plant-heavy diet like most seawings have. for the most part, equo grew up on fish, occasionally something else her father brought back like turtle or whale or seabird, but when he was old enough to fly and fend for herself, equo started to regularly hunt passing seabirds as they preferred a “meatier” taste as opposed to fishy like most of the stuff her father brought back. equo had always had an appreciation for the macabre, kept bones from prey as much as possible, and his father always encouraged it. when equo was ten, they set out on their own, at first sticking to the forested fringes of the sky kingdom where she could still regularly visit his father, but slowly migrating further inland and visiting less and less until they were completely self-sufficient.

at fifteen, equo lives in the woods between the sky kingdom and the rainforest, and has built himself a pretty good little home. she’s built her home half out of a cave, with a small coop of chickens and a couple small plots of crops. he’s built it all by hand and prides themselves on how sufficient she is with its talons. they also fashioned themselves leg braces to help with her chronic pain and wears them most of the time. she found a hobby in taxidermy and bone collecting, and spends a good chunk of his time doing just that. their house is decorated with taxidermy animals, wet specimens, disassembled and whole articulated skeletons, rocks and crystals she finds, random bones and pelts and feathers etc etc, tapestries she’s woven by hand, things like that. he’s most proud of his fullbody mounted stag and great horned owl, and has entire shelves of skulls on display. she has a colony of dermestid beetles for cleaning bones, as well as luna moth tents because they’re its favourite insect. she also has two pet crows that were both siblings found on the ground after their nest had been attacked by a predator, and they’re both very much bonded to him.

while equo was hatched on a full moon and granted seer powers, they didn’t manifest in the same way that an average nightwing’s would because of his seawing blood. she also practices witchcraft and necromancy, and is capable of bringing an animal back from the dead as long as the body is in good condition. they use witchcraft to make itself appear different to others, usually in a much more shadowy, fluid-like, monster-y form, but also sometimes can make herself appear invisible. he also likes to make light shows and other unnatural phenomena using his witchcraft, and sometimes even makes potions in a very traditionally witchy way. completely unknown to them, equo’s become known among the rainwings and more southern skywings as a sort of cryptid/monster that lives in the woods. she’s seen as a large, dark, spiny dragon that causes the death of any animals (and presumably dragons) it comes across, with glowing eyes and strange powers that allows him to teleport and be in multiple places at once. ironically, being a witch or necromancer isn’t part of her reputation. they’re completely unaware of the fact that other dragons know of it, much less that they’re scared of her. equo meets tiki after her hawk falls ill and she becomes desperate and seeks out the necromancer in the woods, but their full story is for another post.

[hypocriticalspicewrites]

🦇~FruitBats Drabble~🍒

17+ Beyond this point! Contains suggestive content not meant for younger audiences, so if you're bit looking for spicy writing, keep on rollin brother. Also never really written anything like this, so reboots and feedback is appreciated if you decide to stick around and read~! 🩷🖤🩷

Chrysta had just been turned only a few months ago by her four mates, and she seemed to be adapting well to the vampire life, especially if it meant being with her boys.

However, there were a few things she was still getting used to... This was completely new and difficult for her to adapt to.

Chrysta was in heat. A rut, if you will - which is usually a once or twice in a year routine most vampires went through. Hell, even the boys have gone through it countless times in their immortal lives... But Chrysta? The sweet thing wasn't handling it well.

The scent if her heat had filled the cave, and immediately brought all the boys in the cave over to her nest like a both to a flame, watching the way she tossed and turned, restlessly gripping at her sickly stomach.

It was David who decided to take the daring step forward toward the dancing shadows in the dim candlelight, tugging at the silky and sheen fabric that worked as a curtain shielding the nest, pulling it away with his two fingers to peer in and see its treasure inside.

He couldn't help but fight the grin that creeped onto his lips like a kid on Christmas day. His icy eyes scanned over his woman curled into herself, her bare back bounced with heavy pants, body turned to face away from the four coven members all circled around watching like dogs waiting to be fed.

"Having a good time in there?" David asked, earning a few grunts and snickers from the three boys behind him.

Chrysta's pointed ears twitched, her breathing hitched, and her body seemed to freeze. A low growl purrs from her throat, hearing the taunting being sent her way. The response was odd coming from her, she was such a sweet little lady to her boys and everyone else, but it's obvious the heat made her more irritated and aggressive- it usually was a worse time for female vampires.

She rolled over, her back hitting the rocky wall behind her as she finally made eye contact.

Her fangs were bared, and her eyes glowed that feirce yellow with firey rims. Her body was uncontrollably hot, her pale skin slicked with sweat that glistened in the dim lights, and her brunette curls were all over the place, hiding the bottom half of her face into them and the pillow as she growled and hissed, muffled by the sheets.

Her silky tanktop slipped her shoulders as she tried clawing at it. The silky fabric did anything but comforted it and worsened the irritation of her sensitive breasts.

David had knelt to her level where her face was hidden away, pursing his lips out and cooing at her mockingly. "Oh, you poor thing, you're barely keeping it together, baby."

She didn't speak - even if she could very much do so. She just watched them through her thick lashes, like a Vixen. Fat tears fell from her unblinking eyes she refused to avert from David as though she expected him to make a sudden move if she even blinked. It stimulated her poor body to a point that she couldn't control the tears rolling down her rosey cheeks. Her eyes narrowed as she heard them mockingly coo and tease her.

Chrysta didn't want to be so hissy at her mates, but this heat was so bad it almost hurt. She couldn't help but get defensive if they even made one more step towards her. Her fangs felt too big for her mouth, sore and aching deep in her gums and itching to sink into flesh.

"Come on, Chrissie," David brought his hand over to her face- the second he did it was like Marko, Paul, and Dwayne leaned in dramatically to watch and see the outcome of his choice.

"I know what you're feeling, Chrissie, but throwing a fit won't help... Why don't you let your boys help you out?" He spoke quiet, but his tone wasn't soft or comforting, his fingertips brushed over her forehead, moving away her bangs.

The second she laser-focused on David's hand, she was growling, her lips curling back to reveal her fangs as her pupils shrunk. The hair on the back of her neck raised.

Her hand immediately shot out for his face, her claws barely grazing at his jaw before he quickly reeled away with ease. The action got the boys laughing and hollering.

Given Chrysta's condition, what was hers was hers. especially her personal space. Even when she was starting to enter her heat, Max himself had told the boys to leave her alone till she willingly gave into it and came to them to help her. They knew what they were doing.

David didn't fight an amused chuckle himself, feeling some sort of sadistic rush as the anticipation and adrenaline pumped through his veins at the quick dodge of her attack, craning his head back to show of the faint and barely visible graze marks along his cheek toward his lip. He was looking pretty prideful in the marks his lady left on him.

Paul made a drawn out 'O' noise as he strutted toward the opposite side if David, crouching doen and stroking two of his fingers up and down her ankles, flashing a toothy grin as his ocean blue eyes scanned her figure. "Wanna leave me a few of them scratches down my back, Dime piece?"

He swiftly reached toward the back of her thigh, taking a good chunk of her plush skin between his fingers and pinching it - which quickly got him the reaction he was looking for.

Chrysta let out a shrill yelp, throwing her arm out and hitting Paul's chest before lashing out her other hand, fingers splayed out and sharp nails ready to cut. But Paul stumbled back quickly, falling into Dwayne’s arms, who caught his friend as his back hit his chest, both cackling with one another.

"Cherri's feelin' fiesty t'night!" Paul spoke, putting his hands up to admit defeat as she stared at him through the opening of the curtains, a low hiss rolling of her tongue.

It only took a single pinch before they were all on her like a heeler nipping at the ankles of cattle. Marko places a quick smack to her ass where it peeked from her shorts, earning another squeal and Marko quickly missing a foot shot straight for his face.

On a normal night, this type of attention would have had Chrysta giggling and (to put it lightly) all over her boys. But not tonight. She wasn't in the mood. It was either get her out of this heat immediately or leave her alone, and the boys weren't about to give her what she wanted without enjoying a little teasing first.

While her leg was still stretched out, Dwayne all but pushed his dirty blonde mates away, wrapped his whole hand around her ankle and his other hand began to glide up her leg, his calloused palm making contact with her soft skin. His fingers barely crept under the hem of her tanktop, brushing over her stomach before her claws made contact with his hand.

He quickly drew his hand back, not as quick as David however, yet something about his hesitance seemed he wasn't trying to miss her attack, quickly bringing his scratched hand up to his mouth and licking the blood away from his wounds, his eyes never left hers as he did so.

"Alright, that's enough of that."

Before Chrysta could react, David's hand wrapped around her neck, slow and cautious as his fingers gave her a little squeeze. She doesn't make a move to scratch him yet, feeling his cold fingertips on her hot skin make her flinch, a hiss rolling out of her throat, vibrating against his palm. She could've left him some mighty fine few scars to show off to the boardwalk tomorrow night, but she didn't, cause even through her overwhelmed mind, she was still Chrysta, their good girl. And good girls obey.

He doesn't look intimidated or scared. His face looked unreadable, his narrowed gaze on her the whole time he brought his face closer to her own.

He raises his thumb to her mouth, running it down the long length of one of her fangs. The action caused her pupils to dilate. "That's more like it." He breathed, his voice low and quiet enough only loud enough for Chrysta's ears - even if the other boys had already crowded around close enough to hear and watch.

His thumb trailed down to her bottom lip, the pad of his ungloved digit running over her dry brim, missing the sticky sensation of her glossy cherry flavored lip loss. "Look at you, baby... It hurts so bad, doesn't it?" He spoke to her like she was a little kitten in the palm of his hand, continuing to stroke her bottom lip.

She doesn't answer him just yet, the cave filling with silence and thick with tension. He can feel her windpipe bob as she swallowed the saliva pooling in the back of her throat, but it doesn't take long before she let's out a pleading whine, her bottom lip studding out into a pout as she looks at him with her big, doe-like eyes, nodding her head at him and waiting patiently (even if she hated doing so) for him to do something- anything to get this God-awful heat to calm down.

David didn't even fight the smirk slowly growing on his lips, the unreadable look on his features breaking. "Don't worry, Chrissie, I won't make you beg." He stated, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear, leaving a quick kiss to the back of her ear near her jaw, the scratching sensation of his stubble sent a shiver down her spine, causing her to visible arch her back.

"Now let's get you out of this rut, shall we?"

🍒🦇

OK I HAVE TO SAY I WAS TOTALLY INSPIRED BY @luv4fandoms TLB rut series cause they are SO👏GOOD 👏 I think I've reread David's like 140000 times I love them sm

I SWEAR I hope this wasn't totally cringe to read I haven't written anything like this (at least I haven't posted👁👁) before so I hope it isn't too bad! Thanks for checking it out! ;D

[unexpectedstormy]

Prompt ask: Cuddles

Bonus points if it includes Wild, Hyrule, Legend, and/or Ravio or Wolfie 💜

Oops. Here's 1051 words of everyone's favorite chaos duo (and Epona too!) somehow managing mischief even when trapped in an icy sinkhole.

******

"Well this is fun," Wild said, hands on his hips and looked up at the tall and ice-covered walls of the circular pit they were in.

"I wouldn't call being portaled into an inescapable icy sinkhole as fun," Hyrule said.

"At least we got the horse," Wild glanced Epona who made an annoyed horse noise and shook her mane.

"And we got everyone's stuff too," Hyrule said eyeing Epona's saddlebags. "We should look through them and see if there's anything we can use to get out of here like a hookshot or something."

"Good idea, ehehehe, and we have a rare opportunity to see what cool stuff they've got hidden away," Wild said.

Three raided sweets stashes, two explosions, and one weirdly angry bottled bee later and the two boys found nothing that could help them escape their icy prison; annoyingly, the rest of their companions had kept their mobility items on their person for the portal jump.

“I hope everyone else is okay out there,” Hyrule said making a little next out of blankets and clothes from everyone’s bags. “The sky is clear tonight which means it is going to be very cold.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Wild said piling blankets on Epona’s back. “Probably. Hopefully…. They better be.”

“How thick do you think this ice is?” Hyrule tapped a bare patch of dark blue ice that filled the entire bottom of the sinkhole. “It looks thick enough to tolerate a fire, don’t you think?”

“If it can hold the weight of a fully-laden horse I’m sure it’s thick enough for a bonfire, let alone a regular campfire.”

“Oh? Bonfire time? I’ll start setting it up!”

“Don’t get too crazy,” Wild cautioned. “I’d rather not go swimming if we can help it. Also, you don’t happen to have any grass or hay for Epona in your pack do you?”

“Uh, sorry, no. I only have breadsticks, salted ham, and all of Warriors’ candy.”

“Hmm. Alright. Sorry girl, looks like you’re having only apples and carrots for dinner.”

Epona made a horse noise that was the equivalent of “I really don’t mind. Give me all the apples and carrots you got.”

******

Two hours later, Hyrule and Wild were cozied up together in the blanket and clothing nest well fed and sitting in front of the roaring bonfire with Epona standing close behind on her own bed of blankets laid down for her (sorry Legend, they’re your blankets).

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” Wild asked. Hyrule sighed.

“Probably a while. The others have no way to know that we’re down here. It’s not like we walked here and left tracks or a trail for Wolfie to follow.”

“I have enough apples for Epona to last two or three days at the most, then we’ll have to start sharing our food with her,” Wild said. “I love you Epona, but I’d rather not give you all the wheat and rice I have, which isn’t very much to start with.”

“I wonder if she likes salted ham,” Hyrule pondered. “Or candy.”

“She probably does,” Wild shrugged. “They say horses are omnivores. Isn’t that right, girl?”

Epona made a horse noise that meant “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

“Despite the literal icy prison we’re in, this isn’t so bad,” Hyrule mused. “We’ve got a bigger fire than Time normally lets us make, all the blankets we could ever want, and nobody to fight with over the food. We can eat as much bread and meat skewers and other people’s sweets as we want.”

“You know what? You’re right,” Wild agreed. “Let’s enjoy being in ice jail while we’re here.”

“I hope they don’t find us anytime soon,” Hyrule said. “We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of exploring what’s in everyone’s packs.”

“Hehe, then let’s get back to it… in the morning,” Wild yawned. “I’m tired and it’s cold.”

“Sure thing,” Hyrule said and nestled even further down into the blankets like a kitten.

******

“Well you guys look cozy,” a voice woke both Wild and Hyrule in the early morning.

“Twilight!” Wild exclaimed disentangling himself from the blanket pile he’d burrowed into. “What are you doing here?!”

“Looking for you two. And Epona. And all our stuff. Which it looks like you took the liberty of exploring.”

“You realize this is an ice-filled sinkhole and we can’t get out of here right?” Hyrule said. “You just trapped yourself down here with us.”

“How do you think I got down here?” Twilight rattled the climbing harness and the rope that connected him to the upper rim of the sinkhole. Sky and Legend waved down at them. Hyrule waved back and Wild gave them a thumbs up.

“Oh yay, we’re saved,” Hyrule said apathetically.

“Why don’t you sound excited?” Twilight asked. “We’re going to fish you out of this hole.”

“Is everyone else alright?” Wild asked.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. We all managed to find the same hunting cabin and stayed the night there.”

“How did you even find us?” Hyrule asked.

“We saw your smoke signal,” Twilight motioned to the smoldering remains of their bonfire. “You went a little crazy, didn’t ya?” Hyrule giggled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wild said.

“It’s a perfectly ordinary regular-sized campfire,” Hyrule said.

“Neigh,” Epona disagreed.

“Are you two going to get up or just sit there wrapped in blankets like a pair of hibernating bears?”

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” Wild reluctantly stood up and Hyrule groaned and wrapped the blankets around his shoulders even tighter.

“Four’s making berry porridge at the cabin, so if you want some before Wind eats it all, you two had better hurry up,” Twilight said.

“The question is how do we get Epona out of the pit?” Hyrule asked.

“That’s the easy part,” Wild said. “I have horse armor that can teleport the horse. All I—or you or Time—have to do is to whistle the horse-call song and poof! There she is beside you.”

“What? Seriously? That’s so cool!” Hyrule exclaimed.

“Let’s do that then,” Twilight said. “You two get up and pack up and we’ll rappel you up.”

“This has been one short lived vacation,” Hyrule said. “But it was a good one.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Wild agreed.

The End.

[bilightningwhumper]

Mangst 2024- Day 2

"If you can't trust yourself right now, trust me."

Summary:

Sienna's going into heat and Rae's there to help

Notes:

Not much of any warnings for this one. It's a bit angsty, but ended up more hurt/comfort fluff. Didn't mean for it to be this long, but you know, the characters do what they want to do, lol. Characters: Sienna- Red Riding Hood Rae- "Huntsman"

Sienna’s POV

Her skin was burning. Not overwhelmingly or painful yet, but she could feel it boiling under the surface. Tucking her head between her legs, she curled up more into herself on the couch.

Bad omegas didn't deserve a nest. Didn't deserve comfort. Didn't, didn't, didn't-

She stayed where she was when the door opened. Rae must have come home. How stupid did she have to be, staying out of her room like this? She should have been hidden away. Rae shouldn't have to deal with her right now. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch. The hand immediately left, so Sienna finally looked up to see Rae frowning at her.

"Did you hear me at all?"

Flinching again, Sienna should her head, stuttering, "S-sorry. I- I was, I mean..." Fog clouded her mind, the heat slowly becoming more unbearable. What had she been saying?

Cool hands rested on her forehead and the side of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, leaning into the touch.

"I was asking why you weren't in your nest." Rae sounded concerned? Upset? "Your hear is coming on really fast. Why didn't you call me? I'd have come home early."

Sienna just shrugged, the foggy feeling taking over as Rae's scent surrounded her. She smelled like sea salt and sunshine.

"Come on, let's get you to your nest. It'll be more comfortable than the couch, yeah?"

Sienna tensed. "But I've been a bad Omega. The kitchen still needs to be cleaned and-"

"Chores can wait." Rae interrupted firmly. "Your comfort comes first right now."

Reluctantly, Sienna let herself be coaxed from the couch. They made it to the doorway of her room before she froze up. She waited for Rae to say something, but she just rested a hand against Sienna's back, waiting.

She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to think through the fog. "It's not that good. And kind of a mess. Maybe too small?"

Rae's soft chuckle followed by her scent surrounding Sienna in a cloud made her relax, leaning more into her hand and chest.

"If it's comfortable and makes you happy, then it's perfect, hun." Rae rumbled in her ear.

Sienna couldn't tell if the burning feeling was the heat setting in or her face flushing. She opened the door, tentatively pulling Rae to where she’s made her nest in the corner of her room. It was small, but big enough to be cozy for the two of them. She wanted more blankets and pillows, but there was only so much she could do without taking from Rae’s bed too.

“Are you happy with it?”

“… Yeah.”

Rae put her chin on Sienna’s shoulder. “That wasn’t a very convincing yes. What’s missing, hun?”

“I mean,” She cleared her throat. “Would it be okay if, well,” Her face burned more. “Could I take some of your things? Blankets, pillows, and stuff?”

A kiss on the side of her neck did not help the increasing burning feeling in her face. Or the feeling of slick starting to build up between her legs.

“Of course. It’s not like I’ll be in my bed since I’ll be here with you.” She moved to turn Sienna’s face towards her. “Do you want to get them, or stay here while I get things for you?”

Sienna rested her forehead against Rae’s, the fogginess coning back again. It was tiring, swinging from feeling to feeling.

“Can you?” she murmured, eyes closing.

“I can.”

Rae’s hands on either side of her face was the only warning she had before feeling lips on hers. Inhaling sharply, she melted into it, fingers twisting into Rae’s shirt. A purr started deep in her chest. She wanted her closer… closer….

Then Rae was backing away. “I’ll be right back,” she rumbled, her own face flushed as well as she traced her fingers along Sienna’s jaw with her fingertips. “You should get settled… Omega.”

Sienna’s knees weakened again as she let out a small whimper.

Rae giggled at her, kissing her nose before leaving to get the blankets for the nest.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Sienna rubbed at her eyes. It’d been so long since she’d had a proper heat like this. Was she supposed to be this muddled? Even in pre-heat?

She plopped down in her nest, pushing things around to prepare for the additional materials. Everything had to be perfect for her alpha.

A gentle clucking sound announced Rae’s return with an armful of blankets and pillows.

“You’re stressing again, hun. Is something wrong?” Rae asked as she put everything down at the edge of the nest.

Sienna grabbed the pillows first, setting up more of a frame for the sides. “It’s nothing.” she said, smiling over at Rae while she worked.

All she got was an unconvinced look in return.

“I just-” She pushed back at her hair. When had she started sweating? “My head feels like static and I’m nervous that this isn’t normal and I’m not good enough for you and…” She gasped for air, tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t think and I don’t know how to be a good omega anymore.”

Sienna couldn’t bring herself to look up in the silence after her outburst. Her heat had barely started and she’d already fucked it up.

“Sienna, may I come into your nest?”

Something in Rae’s tone made her shiver. She nodded, sitting back so Rae could sit beside her. Once Rae got settled, Sienna leaned into her immediately, resting her burning forehead against Rae’s shoulder.

“Hun, you don’t need to be perfect to me.” Rae said, rubbing Sienna’s back. “Your heats are going to be weird to get used to for a while, especially now that you’re somewhere where you feel safe. And besides, life is messy. I’d chose being a mess with you over perfection with someone else any day.” She gently lifted Sienna’s chin up to meet her eyes. “If you’re willing for me to be your Alpha, I’d be honored to have you as my Omega. Even if you weren’t my soulmate.”

Nuzzling into Rae’s shoulder, Sienna couldn’t help but smile. “Sap.” Then heat hit her like a wave and she shuttered, clutching the blankets between them. She could feel the slick starting to leak through her shorts. As much as she tried, she couldn’t hold back a whine.

“You okay?”

She nodded, taking slow breaths. “I think pre-heat is just about done.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Groaning, Sienna sat back. “Well, clothing hinders things. I mean-” she blushed for what felt like that for the thousandth time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it so bluntly.”

Rae just shook her head, smiling again as she took her shirt off. “It’s okay, you’re on a one track mind at the moment. Kind of nice to see you letting your guard down like this.”

It was very hard not to stare at Rae… Her arms. Her tan skin. Her chest. So soft, smooth….

“Sienna,” Rae took hold of her chin again, amusment twinkling in her eyes. “Heat really muddles your brain, huh?”

Even though she knew Rae was only kidding, that made a chill run down Sienna’s spine.

“I, um,” She drew back, even though every instinct at her screamed to go the other way, into Rae’s arms. “Maybe this is too soon. I might take things too far. Or convince you to do something we don’t want, or-”

Rae cut her off again, cupping her face in her hands. “Sienna, you trust me, right?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Then if you can’t trust yourself right now, trust me. Trust me to keep things like we agreed before. You’ve been taking your meds, right?”

Sienna nodded again.

“And I have protection with me too. There’s very little chance we’ll have kids since I’m only knotting you once for the bonding mark. Then we have all the other toys and things to lessen the chance of me knotting you again. Okay?”

Little by little, Sienna relaxed again, leaning into Rae’s hands heavily. “Your hands feel nice.” she mumbled.

Rae pulled her into another kiss and Sienna responded eagerly, her own shirt joining Rae’s on the edge of the nest. Skin, hands, heat, scents mingling, gasping, moaning. Rae took control as Sienna felt herself devolve into her heat.

Her alpha would take care of her.

[minecraftbookshelf]

Two of ???

On AO3

I haven't watched any of the session 3 videos so now that I have this fic done I'm going to go do that.

-

The Clockers

Bdubs can still feel the ache in his gut where Skizz's axe had struck home.

If he looked, he knows there would still be a scar, red and angry and fresh. Much like the burn marks litering Scar and Cleo's bodies.

They have more lives this Game, but every death still leaves its evidence on their skin. That'll be interesting by the time all is said and done.

Scar is whispering (loudly) to his dogs a few feet away and Cleo sleeps the sound sleep of the satisfied arsonist. 

Only one yellow so far. When they wake up in the morning and the clocks restart it won't be long before there are more. Scar one of, if not the first.

It'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

~

T.I.E.S.

Etho is still giddy with the relief of an inventory well stocked with TNT and the guarantee of more on the way. He does a lap of the base perimiter to calm his nerves so he can sleep. Rest is vital to survival in these Games and they are afforded so little of it. 

The cows from Cleo and her team are safe in the base, Skizz and Impulse and Tango are sprawled out on their beds, sound asleep. 

He closes the door softly to not wake them.

The ocean, small as it is within the world border, is loud against the beach, the tide low right now. The lights from Scott and Martyn's island glimmering reflections on the water. He needs to figure out how Joel and Grian got through the border. That will be useful later.

The paused clock on the back of his hand taunts him, even through his gloves. He doesn't need to see it to know how much time he has left. He's kept a careful count the whole time. 

He'll need to make a stash in the morning, food, supplies, TNT. A safely hidden chest for when everything begins to fall apart and its time to leave. 

He'll need more sand for TNT. Some more redstone. Diamonds. Iron. 

But that is for tomorrow.

He sleeps.

~

The Bread Bad Boys

Joel had crashed almost before the timers stopped, the adrenaline of a successful boogey kill laying him out flat. Grian had followed not long after, looking both Incredibly Done with everything and also very pleased. He'd shucked his leather jacket and sunglasses and crawled into the nest and been asleep instantly.

And Jimmy can't sleep. 

He's not tossing and turning exactly, because it turns out that for all his grumbling Joel is a cuddler once he's asleep and he has Jimmy's arm hostage. But he's staring up at the night sky and all he can do is think about the session.

The trap had worked. 

Jimmy had half expected Joel to just turn around and kill him, to be honest. Despite the jokes about targeting Grian. He's aware he's a fairly easy target. Even after they'd come up with the plan for the Bread Bridge railcart he'd expected it to fail. Traps (and Joel's TNT traps in particular) don't have a very good success rate in the Games. 

The desert blowing up, sand in the air, smoke on the wind. The only name in the chat Smajor1995, felled by an arrow before the trap ever went off.

He wonders if Grian can feel his wings. Even though they supposedly aren't there in the Games, even if he can't see them, he can still feel them. A dead weight on his back. 

He wonders if Pearl can feel hers.

If Scott and Scar can feel theirs, unmanifested. 

A loose green feather from Grian's hairline is caught in the pillows. Jimmy stares at it until he falls asleep.

~

 The Coral Kids H2Bros LGBSea Santa's Little Kelpers Mean Gills

The whispers are loud this Game, Martyn has noticed.

I need a full hour session of Martyn suggesting team names.

Martyn trying to kill Timmy via laughter at 15:05 is probably the most interesting tactic I've seen so far.

living on top of a small warm ocean and needing green dye is actually slightly convenient, as sea pickles when smelted become lime gree-

He tries to focus on the flickering lantern light to block them out. Scott is still wandering around the beach house he built, adjusting a table there, fluffing a pillow there. It's weirdly domestic, despite the situation. 

Martyn doesn't usually build a home. The heart for Cleo hardly counted, and Dogwarts was for Ren. He just doesn't see the point.

"The point in what?"

Ah. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. 

"This," He waves his hand over his head to indicate everything on the little island. "It's all very aesthetic but it's hardly defensible. And even if it was it'll be gone anyway. Nothing lasts."

Scott throws himself onto his own bed, a block to the side and peers back at Martyn, his eyes glowing green in the dim light. "We're going to die anyway," he counters. "It might as well be somewhere pretty."

"Fair enough."

Against his will, the image of a small, flower covered valley appears in his minds eye, and he grimaces just a little. He does feel a bit bad about that sometimes. Mostly for Timmy's sake more than Scott's. 

Speaking of, now that he isn't the only one who remembers things he can ask-

"You never repeat teammates."

It's less a question than a statement but it's implied. 

Scott is silent for a moment. 

"I don't like seeing them die again."

He'd outlived all of them, hadn't he. Timmy, Pearl, and Cleo. 

"And you always go back to Ren."

"Well, Ren's not here." And Martyn meant for that to sound more agressive but mostly it just sounds tired.

Ren isn't here but they are and round and round they go. Again and Again and Again.

~

The Nosy Neighbors

Pearl drifted off to sleep while they had been discussing the Bread Bridge and if they wanted to leave it or try and do something about it in the morning. Froggy had flopped over on top of her immediately and BigB can hear her purring all the way over in his own bed. 

At least they are inside tonight, the cobblestone walls of the tower Pearl had built with him blocking out the world outside, closing them into a safe little bubble.

And for now, they aren't being watched. 

Breathe in, one two three four. Out, one two three four five six seven.

He can feel the tension evaporating from his shoulders, his back. The creeping sensation of eyes fading away as even They turn away for a time. 

It is Rest Night. Nothing Interesting happens during Rest Night. It isn't allowed.

And so They look away.

Maybe tomorrow he'll try and bring some of the frogs from frog mountain over to the tower, he thinks, as he drifts off to sleep. That should be entertaining enough to buy some time. Before it isn't enough for Them anymore.

[anemodaycare]

In your Adrian post you mention regression is more common amoungst the coven heads then they thought. Are there other coven heads who agere as well? Do you have some hc on them?

I do!! Personally, I think that Raine, Hunter, and Lilith (they may be ex coven heads but they count in my heart) also regress! I think the other coven heads are just used to it at this point.

But anyway! Here's

Raine Whispers, Lilith Clawthorne, and Hunter Agere Headcanons!

Raine Whispers:

They regress to cope with stress, both brought on from being a coven head and worrying about things in general

Anxiety will do that to ya

Raine's regression space can range from 5-10, but it mostly ends up being lower on that range

When they were a teen, Eda was their caregiver

Now that they don't really have anyone, they try not to regress

Terra found out a while ago and things were not pretty. Raine hates her more than anything

They stay in their quarters and lock themselves away

In their quarters, they have a hidden toy chest and old stuffed animals that Eda won them

They are 10x more emotional when little and honestly a little bit of a cry baby

They've restricted themselves from using their scroll while little

Last time they did, Eda got a text from a very small Raine

"mmmmiss u moma"

They usually pretend that it didn't happen afterwards

Their quarters are sound proofed thanks to the last bard head

So when they're small, they have little dance parties and sing to their stuffies

It doesn't scare them! Those are their friends!

They love chewlery

Their favorite piece of chewlery is shaped like a butterfly and half chewed through

Strong jaw.

They stim a lot when alone

Mostly small jumps and flapping their hands

They refuse to drink any tea when small

They have thrown it when given

A tragedy, truly. That time out was brutal

Lilith Clawthorne:

Similar to Raine, she also regresses due to stress

She also feels like she's lost so many years of her life to the Emperor's guild and man. that really stung to think about

Her age range is a lot smaller, mostly around 2-3

Thankfully, Gwendolyn understands and encourages it, so she finally gets all of her mom's attention!

She's a very happy toddler, surprisingly

Very cuddly, as well

Her palisman will nest in her hair while she's regressed to keep her constant company

If she's left alone for too long, she cries. A lot.

She loves being carried

Which. is good because she has a strong mom

While she was living at the Owl House with Eda and Luz, she spent a lot of time with Hooty

"Hootsifier" turns into "Hoo"

Hooty is. Crying tears of joy

Lilith loves coloring. So so much

It's easy and stress free

While she was at the Owl House, her and Eda did it a lot

"This is just like when we were kids, Lily!"

"Mmhmhmhmhm!"

Ever since she's left the coven, she's just been a lot happier

Hunter:

He is so baby coded.

He deserves a childhood. And a good one

His age range is mostly 0-4

He's a very cranky kiddo if he's not constantly attended to

Thankfully. His caregiver (and dad) is Darius

Darius won't admit it, but he is sort of a helicopter parent

Hunter wants nothing more than to play with others

But he is much too tiny.

Thankfully! The Emerald Entrails are incredibly understanding

They work together for some killer babysitting

And Hunter gets to be with his favorite friends and play! It's a big win for him

Flapjack is never far behind. That bird is almost as bad as Darius

He can't choose a favorite activity

He wants to do everything, all of the time

Is it to make up for lost time? Or is it just him being an excitable baby?

Also really big on being carried and cuddled

He hides under Darius' cape when he's overwhelmed and small

"Little Prince.. What are you doing there?"

"Hide.. Dada help!"

My favorite au. Where Hunter just gets to be a kid and taken care of

He has a cardinal bottle and paci

He carries around his frog plush

Please hold his hand. He needs it

Darius has a leash for him. It's attached to a backpack so he doesn't wander too far

He can't help it! He's curious!

[blackiraven]

You voted - Blacki fulfills a promise!📢

As soon as I finished my master's thesis, I immediately started writing this story. Oh, it's like a breath of fresh air!

Since Ao3 is blocked for me, I will post it here. There was a lot of text, so this is only the first part of the story. The continuation depends only on your interest (I still remember that 53 people voted for this fanfiction!😑😑😑)

Unfortunately, I'm not an artist, I'm a writer, so I can make a lot of letters✍

Enjoy your reading (very bad English) I'm sorry, but I'm not good at rhymes and children's fairy tales, so I had to improvise.

Heron and Frog. Part 1.

People in white coats – they remind me of chess, that they unceremoniously rush all over the board and do not follow the rules of the game. But I hate chess and I'm not going to become a figure of the opposite side. They quickly get used to permissiveness and therefore are horrified when I break the rules and shake their only support. White pawns fall, crushed, and meanwhile I run out of the playing field. I was driven by bitterness and a thirst for revenge, I didn't even stay to enjoy the torment of the Arkham staff. Now I have a specific goal and I can't delay, I can't waste the hourglass minutes. I can't let a Bat grab me or follow me around.

The night covered me, the darkness built an invisible path over the roofs of buildings, and the rain absorbed all sounds and thoroughly washed away my tracks. My previous plan was perfect and Batman couldn't find me. But at the very last moment he gave me away! Riddler... the keeper and trader of valuable information. This pathetic frog is constantly jumping from one bank to the other. Finds and sells information to us, but can also help the police and Batman. One thing unites everything – the inhabitants of both shores will break their heads from his riddles. And this is only part of the whole problem. While the Bat was breaking my bones under the guise of justice, someone stole two bottles of my toxin!

"The heron is very angry, the heron is very hungry. Chop-Chop. Hop-hop. Now I would like to eat a delicious frog." I fly between houses, sometimes knocking and scratching with my claws on window panes to wake up and scare sleeping people. The fear that disturbed sweet dreams gave me strength and gave free rein to fantasies. The distance between us was gradually shortening, as I knew the shortest way. A small amphibian got into the affairs of the bird and revealed all the secrets to the bat. Are you really so afraid of being eaten, Nigma? Well, you've made a big mistake and you're going to pay for it. If it weren't for the overly brazen theft of my creation by some petty bandits, then you would have a slim chance of staying alive…

That's an inconspicuous two-storey apartment, merging with the rest in the area, but it's not so easy to get here. The door is closed with several locks, and the bell is hidden in a recess in the wall. Only the right people know the password. But such security can at some point turn a cozy house into a death trap. He's there, in his nest, hidden in the thick grass and cattails. Thoughts of the frog, who suspects nothing and crawls in the soft vegetation, excited the appetite of the heron that swooped down to this swamp. I managed to open the closed window quickly and without making a sound and get into the thicket. Rainwater trickled down to the floor from the suit protecting me from the cold and getting wet. Steam was coming out of my mouth, my eyes were frantically searching for a small green body. The bed was empty and made up, everything was quiet and tidy in the kitchen and in the bathroom, every thing was in its place. Only the first floor remained, where his office and a small library-archive are located. Yes, in Arkham I studied the plan of this house every day and imagined what was in each room, what my target could do before his punishment. If Riddler is not here, then I am ready to wait for his return for hours or days, going over the torture options in my head.

The floorboards didn't creak under my weight, but the water squished treacherously after each step, so I went down carefully so as not to scare off the prey. He was standing in front of the bookcase, with his back to me, and was flipping through some book. My successful hunting. My sweet revenge. Can't sleep? Then I'll send you to eternal sleep.

"The heron sat in a cage for a long time. The heron is terribly hungry. Why not eat a juicy and chatty frog?" my tall and wide shadow threateningly covered Riddler. A folding and serrated knife clattered in my hand. A sharp beak that is ready to disassemble a frog carcass. The short man turned around sharply and did not even have time to shout out of fright, as I pounced on him and grabbed him by the throat. The scream I had caught could not get out in any way and writhed under the skin. The book with the mixed pages crashed to the floor. From my strong grip, Nigma wheezed loudly and began to choke, and I played with him like a wild dog with a fragile toy. At first I let him take one breath, and then I squeezed his neck hard and enjoyed a new portion of agony.

"Come on, show me the courage with which you told Bat about me." I hissed in the ear of Riddler, having previously picked him up and slammed him into the bookcase so that all the contents fell to the floor.

"Please... no… Scarecrow… I didn't... want..." gritting his teeth, he literally coughed up every word. The frog's paws twitched uncontrollably, all ten fingers clutched at my wrist. So thin, so weak, like a straw figurine… Wonderful. I want to squeeze the soul out of this trembling body all night, to the very last drop.

"Yes, try to distract me with your croaking from the desire to eat." I relax my hand a little, but I continue to hold Riddler above the floor. When he joyfully began to breathe deeply, I immediately interrupted this moment and brought the sharpened knife to his face.

"Every heron knows from hatching that delicious frogs still live and chatter for a while if you rip open their soft bellies." the tip of the blade and my eyes shone equally, with cold, with danger. It took only one movement to paint my instrument in the same scarlet color as my eyes were. Feeling my smile stretching to my ears under a thick mask, Nigma howled plaintively and whined. The small notches of the knife, capable of tearing flesh like a flock of hungry piranhas, made him cry and sob softly. And I didn't even have to carry a scythe with me. Frogs are so timid and funny…

"I didn't want to... I didn't want to! But Batman... also came to me and... his demands to find out everything were... very weighty." the black mask quickly soaked with tears pouring from the rapidly blinking green eyes. With his twitching, he was able to point out a large dent in the wall where the desk stood. Surprisingly, it turned out to be very familiar, since the relief of Batman's fists is remembered quickly. Hmm, and I thought that Riddler decided to completely become his faithful dog.

"That's not enough, Riddler. I was robbed because of you!" I squeeze the thin neck again, but this time I dig my long nails into the stretched skin, rubbing it until it bleeds like files.

"I know... I know! And I've been looking for them... lately! Please!" little frog screamed so much in horror and slight pain that tickling goosebumps ran through my body, and my insides fairly stirred. Warm drops rolled down my palm. A sweet for me smell reached my nostrils. Now I didn't want to end it all with a quick kill. What was happening now gave me more pleasure and amused my grievances.

"Really? Then, little frog, tell the heron about what is happening at the bottom of the swamp." I do not restrain my malicious laughter and insidious grin. His crying caressed my ears. I wanted to throw him up and catch him like a ball. He's so light, like he's hollow inside. The same Hatter, my colleague, is much shorter than Nigma, but at the same time hard and heavy as a cobblestone. When I raised my index finger, Riddler squeezed his eyes shut and shrank all over, but instead of maiming, I poked him in the cheek, thereby squeezing a blissful squeak out of him. For a second it seemed to him that he died from my touch, but then he was surprised that he continued to breathe.

"Table... on the table!" groaning and gasping, the tortured frog was already choking on his whining. Mentally sated for a while, I let him go, just threw him on the floor like a used rag. Riddler immediately grabbed his throat, which, presumably, was unbearably sore after several attempts at strangulation and inflicted wounds. While I was slowly pacing to the desk and proudly shaking my "feathers", Nigma huddled in a corner between the cabinets and tucked his trembling paws. Among a small stack of copies of police reports and clippings from fresh newspapers was a map showing the place of my capture and possible escape routes of the brazen robbers. A small piece of paper with dates and addresses written in a column was glued to the map. Hmm, it looks like the frog was aware of his act and expected an angry heron.

"Addresses. Here the heron will be able to find the worms collected by the frightened little frog?" licking the blood that has not yet dried from my hand, I turn back to Riddler. The short-term freedom was enough for him to catch his breath and recover, but Nigma still shuddered from every movement I made.

"No-no." getting to his feet and wiping tears from his face, Riddler carefully, almost on tiptoe, jumped up to me and began to put the papers in different piles.

"When I found out that two bottles of fear toxin were missing after your arrest, I immediately started searching and connected all my informants to this case. Because... um... what will a Scarecrow do if someone else starts scaring crows? The answer is he will be very angry..." he feverishly and with a guilty expression on his face showed me small articles telling about minor crimes in which the victims were... too scared. But not enough to suspect me. Very similar to the effect of the minimum doses of my gas. And it happened at this addresses. Is my piece of chemical art being used for petty robberies?! Now it is clear why Bat is not interested in this and the whole investigation has fallen on the back of the plush amphibian. But I liked such pleas for mercy.

"Then... I won't kill you, Nigma. But you have three days to find the names and burrows of these worms." leaving memorable deep scratches on the corner of the table, I grabbed him by the collar of his jacket with a sharp jerk and dragged him to me.

"Otherwise, the heron will swallow a delicious little frog and will enjoy his death throes in stomach!" I press his face to mine to see my own reflection in the green beads and taste pure, childish fear. The wrinkles on his forehead became more prominent, drops of sweat trickled down his temples, pale lips pursed, and raised eyebrows almost reached each other.

"Yes... yes... the frog will feed the heron!" Riddle literally nodded with his whole body and swallowed the tangles of fear and excitement tangling in his throat. His palms instinctively rested on my shoulders and tried to push me away. Warm…

"What a responsible and cowardly frog. So that you don't float away on the first water lily, I will always look after you..." I turned Nigma around and pressed his back to my chest.

"No! Not that..." unfortunately, I had to interrupt these innocent bleating. I put my whole palm over his mouth and nose. A fine amber powder fell from the small pocket of my glove. Mixing with the air, it turned into a good dose of the fear toxin. And I forced Riddler to breathe it all into his lungs, so that all the fresh air would be replaced by flying horror, so that a part of me would circulate in his blood. He was kicking and lashing my arms furiously, but this only increased my strength. Ah, I'm like Luigi Galvani, and Nigma is the object of my experiments. Loud grunts filled the whole room, the frog's heart was about to explode like a fragmentation grenade. From lack of air, his eyes filled with new tears and rolled up.

"Now only be afraid of my wings, little frog." after making sure that all the powder was used for its intended purpose, I released Riddler, who played for me a beautiful melody of painful wheezes, groans and squeaks. At a fast pace, it turned into a loud orchestra of screams, panic and sobs. This is my gift for you. He was trembling, huddled into a ball on the floor, and I was stomping around him and scaring him with my shadow.

"No!.. Don't touch me!.." his voice twitched, broke, and his hands covered his head. So be it, frog, I'll have time to torment you yet. To beat and physically break such a lovely creature is an unattainable crime even for me. But I can easily break your soul and mind. In the meantime, do something important.  

"Tick-tock. Hurry up, little frog. The heron wants the fattest worms."

[grim-faux]

3 _ 32 _ In the Shadows they Shrivel 

First - An Echo Rebounds through the Silent City

The cold alleys and perpetual drench of the storm slipped away from his mind, until nothing remained but the whistling breeze and the drum of rain against distant windowpanes. Some strange spells crept along when the constant tapping vanished, wherein on the rare occasion the rain shied to the silence brewing through the empty roads; the city fill with a sleepy fog twisting through broken glass, slinking along in search for bodies to chill.

Or, when he went so deep inside the exploring of unknown catacombs within collapsed buildings, and became so lost - buried in miles of walls and layers of floors, where the outside world was scrubbed away entirely from his memories and dreams. In those deep excursions when he became detached from open world and brewing clouds, the subterranean depths became a nightmarish realm that entombed him.

Somewhere in those dreams, his only comfort became a lone chair in a hidden place. It was still waiting for him, far from reach but not forgotten.

However, as he moves from the uncanny stillness to wakefulness, somewhere beyond his swaddled warmth, out there on the other side of windowpanes rolled the crackle of thunder, and the sizzle of electric waves. It’s very much like the sparkling embers that burst from a puddle of water, when a creature wandered into an electrified pool (that was one of his favorite tricks). He was so clever, and knew better than to let himself get wet as well.

Each time the sky buzzed and smoldered with an intense lash of light, he feels terrible and the bristling surge burrowed through is bones. The sky swept a bleached radiance upon the city, and despite how far from the lashing he ran, the grating sensation found its way into his skin. His only way to manage the grating sensation was bury himself under layers of cloth or cardboard, or whatever else he could dig into. Those times came up rarely, but they hinder all capacity for fleeing and hiding, or scout for foods. It was good if he could keep quiet and hidden.

Through his ribs vibrated a steady, and prickly thrum. This, however, felt nice, even with how constrained his sides were, and how little he could breathe. It’s stifling, but preferred to the prying cold slithering into everything, and robbing him of precious warmth. He wanted to tug his frigid toes up into his coat, but he couldn’t bend or move his legs.

This alarmed him into wakefulness, and he snapped his eyes open. A plain of gray stained his vision. Even when he recognized that distorted knit and mesh of patterns, it doesn’t register fully. His mind fumbled with what happened last, and where he wound up. Nothing was clear, aside from the suit he was crushed against. He could kind of wriggle his toes and grip at the stiff knit, but that didn't help in anyway or shift him around.

The Thin Man was supposed to leave while Mono sleep. Sometimes he forgot, but usually Mono was left bundled in a nest. The way the Thin Man dragged him away from his resting still annoyed Mono, but he figured that the Thin Man was having a lot of moods lately. Along with the stinging grip around his chest, he was sore through his shoulders and back too – he’s sure the Viewer didn’t tear him up that bad. His escape had been a harrowing adventure, but at the moment he couldn’t account for every bruise or scratch inflicted in his scrabbling flee, or by the creatures broken fingers. He shuddered, recalling how close it got. It had been a lot of close calls.

Despite how much he had to work out to dealing with the Viewer proper, the ordeal settled in his nightmares as a blur. He didn’t even know how long he was resting for. The Thin Man stayed quiet and still, like hurt.

He pulled his head back and searched for the Thin Man’s face. Very little of the man and his hat was visible, except for the tip of his nose and rim of the ever faithful hat peeking above the blinding white collar. The steady rustle hummed in his ears and the soothing pulse vibrated through Mono. He didn't pick up on any other disturbances or danger noises, and he already made sure the lower floors were safe. it should be fine to stay quiet and gather himself.

For the while, the Thin Man was also listless and dozed on passive crackles of static. Whenever the grating rustle moved through the Thin Man, so did his chest. But very slowly, about every four or seven breaths that Mono had to take. He listened carefully, and always becomes a little anxious if he thought there came a laborious stall or hitch. What could it mean? His puzzling went forgotten, when the Thin Man sighed and his chest sank. It was exhausting for Mono to match that sluggish pace.

With a yawn, Mono wriggled a bit with his arms and tried to adjust his position. It didn’t lessen the tingling in his side, and his movement only made the fingers tighten around his ribs. It wasn’t bad yet, but this could get worse if he wasn’t mindful or hushed. 

The Thin Man could get very animated when he had a dream haunt. Early on, Mono learned how to work around the thrashing when he needed to get the Thin Man out of the worst ones. He still had mishaps here or there, but nothing too serious. He took great care and was always mindful of the Thin Man’s hands. If he was a dunce and let the Thin Man make too much noises, then that racket would entice threats into curious searching. It was... easier muffling kids when they had dream haunts.

After some tugging and a twist, he managed to free one arm. He slipped his fist up to his face and nibbled at the callouses in his palm. A few fingernails had splint in all the clawing at soft wood, but the cracks tugged at his skin and felt tinder. If he didn't clean the dirt from the cuts, they would get sore and would never heal. It was tedious, but a good job to deal with when he couldn't get any more of himself freed. He was thinking about untangling himself. The Thin Man would be annoyed when he saw Mono, but Mono enjoyed the warm. His eyes drooped, and once more he wondered for how long (or little) he slept. The sound inside the Thin Man was strange but cozy. It melded with the rain hissing across the broken windows, somewhere in the room. The dull buzzing meant he wasn’t alone.

His thoughts drifted to the shelter, and if he really did do enough to scout out danger. Any sort of creature might be out there lurking, preparing for the moment when his focus wavered. Yet, Mono couldn’t muster the sense too care; not when the Thin Man was so pacified, and too after Mono had done so much. He kept his eyes shut and listened to that deep, rustling static embedded with the steady drum. It scared him how easy it was to not care.

He did mull through lost ideas, swirling through his hasty business of flee and scavenge; the few tasks that kept him going through his wakeful periods. The Thin Man didn’t bother with such busy work; he had other duties. The man in the hat looked for his children, he collected books. What else? He ate smoke, and put scratch marks onto paper, and frowned at all the lines. Then, he would want Mono to do the u’tee-lees, and make powers work – to be more same. The man would put out his hand and move a building, or its roof, or a heap of ruble; afterwards, he would look at Mono, and expect something like that.

It made him so tired.

Aside from the po-tent'all and all of that, the Thin Man existed as a mystery to Mono. All the same, he still tried. It bothered him that he hadn’t made much progress. He wanted to do speek with the man and his hat, but the Thin Man was very secret and full of think. That was how it was. Sometimes it was hard for him to remember, the Thin Man wasn’t a child. There was more different between them than Mono could fully grasp, and he couldn't figure how to make more same between them. If he understood more about the man in the hat, then the company would make sense. Mono didn’t need the Thin Man, but the Thin Man sometimes needed Mono.

How many children did the Thin Man visit? Did the Thin Man visit the edge of the city, and go beyond the horizon of buildings? Was there a Forest out there? He had so many questions and not any speek to grasp the answers, if any came. Somewhere out there a whole world existed, but Mono had not the vaguest idea what sort of world it was. He thought about the time with the bigger kid and smaller kid, of the places they sheltered in. And before them, he is certain there were other children. The faces came when he shut his eyes, the haunting memories of the ones he left.

A pitiful noise burbled up in his throat, but he pressed his face against the rough knit of the crisp, warm suit and crushed it. He wanted to inhale the smoky scent, but there was something else tinging the Thin Man’s coat. It was a familiar odor, and that concerned Mono. It was one that reminded him of the place, and the Doctor.

The Hospital was full of all sorts of bottles and metal containers, but some of the jars he opened contained an icy, strong-smelling fluid. He hoped it was water, but it was nothing good. He tried to tip the jar over for a sip, but the bitter liquid splashed out stained him all over, the stink singed his eyes like acrid heat from a furnace; he could barely breathe. No amount of rubbing or rolling freed him from the torment.

It was one of the few times She and him got into a big fight. Not over food shares for once, but because She wouldn’t stop snorting and cackling after he stripped to nothing but his pants and a scrap of cloth – to let his clothing dry and air out. He was miserable and embarrassed and in terrible danger, and he could lose his armor if something happened upon them s̸̀ͅḯ̸͜n̵̺͛c̴̩̐ē̴͜ ̶̯̌ S̸͓͛h̸̖̉ẻ̷̩ ̶̨̔ w̶̜̃ǫ̸̒ų̵̈́l̸̰͗d̸̨̾n̵͘͜'̴̢́t̵͇̑ ̴̊ͅ s̵̪̕h̷͕̋u̴̼̐t̸̜͘ ̴̨̓ ű̶͍p̷̣̑.̴̦͒ She insisted they leave it, and he would have to make do. The whole time, he was scared he would lose his armor, or suffer while wearing it. She didn't care, She had her new color.

The pressure around his chest eased by a bit, and he could twist his arm to finish trimming a piece of skin between his fingers. He had to be careful, after another of his teeth went wiggly after S̸͓͛h̸̖̉ẻ̷̩ smacked him in the face. He should’ve let the Him have Her.

Despite everything, he did feel bad about thinking stuff like that. He didn’t know what he felt about Her, not right now when he couldn't see Her. She tricked him. And hit him. He should have… She tried to. He would've....

A rattling growl shook the Thin Man.

Mono lifted his head. The hand gripping him adjusted, and the Thin Man shifted against the wall. A long arm bent up, and the Thin Man touched his face. Mono bit his lip.

“Hey.” The now visible face grimaced.

“S̴̯̃ĥ̶̫ḩ̷͑h̵̼̽.̵́ͅ ̵̞͒ Ẇ̸̗ḧ̸͍y̴̹̋ ̸͕̍ M̸̥̑ų̴̾s̴͕̊t̸͔͘ ̶̧̆ Y̵̝̑o̴̜̍u̵̹̿ ̴̱̓ B̶̤̈e̷̟̊ ̶͖̄ S̸͙͘ö̴͜ ̸͌ͅ Ṉ̸̍ỏ̸͓i̸͔͑s̸̲͗y̶͔͗?̸̮̑”

Mono wasn’t noisy. He reached up with his free hand and tugged at the Thin Man’s shirt collar. “R’hurt? Hmm?”

The Thin Man sighed at him and looked away, eyes squinting shut. “N̷͈͝o̸͓̊.̸͔̌”

Mono tried pulling his body out of the tightening grip. “Y’sure? Help. Am ge’food. N'bring for.” A finger pressed against his nose.

“S̷̰̈h̷̤̓ẖ̷̇.̷̤̈ ̵͕́ E̷̻͝n̷̢̒o̸̻͑ụ̷̈́g̴̩̕h̶̟̊ ̸͇́ Ỏ̵͍f̵̛̮  ̵̲̃T̷͇̅h̷͊͜a̵̛̝t̵͈͑.̷̖̄”

He was certain the Thin Man needed something, or didn’t feel right. Forcing other kids to accept help was easy enough, but again, the Thin Man was not a child. If he wanted to give help, it would require more watch, more think, more understanding on what made the Thin Man hurt. But Mono was good at figuring out solutions.

The Thin Man moved him to the floor, beside where he sat. Mono stumbled closer to the tall figures side and pushed at his middle. “Am here f’rr need.”

“S̶͔̐h̵̜̏u̸̟͑t̶̤͘ ̶͔͑ U̸̢͝p̶̻̍.̴̞́”

He could be quiet, but the Thin Man needed something else.

Mono crouched beside a long leg and glanced over the room. Another splash of light and a thunder-blast crackled beyond the lone window, the drum of it overtook the steady rattle of droplets across the crooked sill. The Thin Man sat on the damp carpet, but such things never bothered him – the rain was nothing to him, or his hat. This room did have a chair, but the Thin Man sort of slumped in the corner for no good reason. He must be hurt.

While he waited for the Thin Man to collect himself, Mono fixed the wrinkles and kinks in his own coat. His ribs were stiff too, and he needed to stretch for getting all the aches out. The chill and damp was already seeping into his skin, but the Thin Man was always dry. Even when he smelled thick of icy water, the mysterious tall man was warm and nice to touch.

“G̷͉̃ǫ̸̛ ̸̾ͅ P̵̬̚r̷̖̉è̷͔o̴̘̚ć̶̙c̶͙̀u̸̪̎ṗ̵͎ẏ̴̠ ̷͔̆ Y̵̝̊o̴͎̊u̵̗͝r̶̼̄s̵̢͝e̴̗̓l̵̡̅f̷̫́ ̴̥̒ Ę̵͊ḷ̶̆s̴̘͂ë̴̜́w̴̛͉h̶͓͛ę̴̌r̴̜̉e̷͇̅.̷̩̕ ̷͕̂ I̴̙͋ ̸̙͘ A̶̝̎m̵͜͠ ̴̧̋ B̴̹̍ŭ̴̜s̵͕͑y̵͍̚.̵̙̓”

Mono slipped away from the forceful hand pushing him aside, and rushed back to grab onto the Thin Man’s coat tail. “Go powers? For train-eeng. Show? Make show?”

“Ṁ̶̟y̴̰͝ ̸̦͗ W̴͇̉ó̸̪r̸͚͋d̵̰̽ ̷̹͠ C̷͇͠Ḫ̶̉I̸̦̚L̶̨̑D̵̨̾!̷͓̿ ̷̤̎ D̶̲̍o̵̥̓ ̴̮̉ I̷̡͂ ̸͍͛ L̴̞̿ǫ̶̓ơ̸͎ḱ̸͍ ̵̼͗ L̶̢͊i̶̖͌k̷̲͒ë̴̟́ ̸̹̕ I̸͍͒ ̵��̐ A̵͚̅m̴̝̒ ̵̨͋ I̴̥͐n̷͔̿t̶̨̋e̵̗̓r̷̰͌ė̶̱s̷̠̀t̷̬̀ȅ̶͓d̸̠̎ ̸̮̋ Ï̸͍n̶̝͘ ̸͎͛ Ț̷͝r̶̃ͅa̴̭͝i̵̭̅ǹ̵͈-̴̈́͜Ğ̵͈Ê̷̯H̵͙́.̵̭͋” He yanked Mono off by the collar of his coat and lifted him over his long legs.

Mono lost his balance when he dropped to his feet, and fell to his knees. However! He was resolute, and knew he could do something if the Thin Man only let him. He charged back and snatched the bottom of the coat, locking his fingers in tight. The Thin Man dragged up his long legs and folded his arm over his bent knees, and peered down with one glinting eye.

“B̷͔̆ò̸̠ŷ̷̰.̶̬̈́ ̸̦̕ I̶͖̎ ̶͖̉ A̵̖̓m̸͙̚ ̶̝̕ W̷̩̑ḁ̷͒r̷̖̂n̶̡̿i̶͙̐n̸̻͘ĝ̸̝ ̷̡͝ Y̸̮͐o̷̗͛ų̴͋.̸̫̓”

That did make Mono hesitate and lean back. “But train-gee? Po-tent’yol?” He pulled harder on the coat. “S’best. Y’happy. We go. Hmm?” The Thin Man watched him from the horizon of his elbow, as if he was a million miles away and barely seeing Mono on a door in the middle of the sea. In case he forgot Mono was there, he tugged more on his suit side. “Hoi. Diss’plen? Diss’er Plen? Of-whelm’did? You oven-weelm?”

The Thin Man uncoiled a little and smiled at him, with his eyes shining beneath the shadow of his hat. He moved his gaze off Mono, and peered at the dark window and the slathering droves of water. “Ÿ̸̜ò̴̯ṷ̸̈́ ̷̞̆ W̴͚̓a̶̹̒n̴̹̅ṯ̶̎ ̶͐ͅ T̴̨͘o̸̥͛ ̷̗̈́ L̶̘̅ę̵̽a̷̭̿r̸̹̄n̵̼̈́ ̶̦͠ M̷̳̒ö̶͉r̴̗̆ḛ̵̆ ̷͓́ Ó̴̹f̸̺̈́ ̸̺̅ O̸̬̚ũ̸̳ṙ̵̮ ̸̙̕ P̸̨̃o̷͓͠ŵ̶̪e̸͙͝ṟ̶͆s̷͉̀.̶̧̔ ̶͈̓ Ĩ̸̢s̵̙̀ ̵̺̿ T̶̬̆h̸̦̄a̵͓̓t̶͔͌ ̷̲͑ Ĭ̴̥t̴̠͋?̴̼̕”

“Mm-hmmm.” Mono balanced on his heels and jerked back on the suit tail. “Y’show.” That always made the Thin Man happy! The tall man and his hat never showed it, but he always enjoyed showing off to Mono. He crashed backwards when the Thin Man uncoiled and rose to his feet. Before the man in the hat could escape, Mono staggered onto a chase. The way he always did. He bounced on the sodden floorboards, generating a soft plap-plap as he fell in ‘stride’ with the longer steps.

“Important,” he chimed. “Make better. Y’see. T’best. T’best. Sum'game!”

The Thin Man pulled a stick from his coat and the smoldering flame burned beneath the edge of his hat. “I̸̢̓n̸̯̓d̵̮͝ȇ̸͜e̶̳͝d̶͓̿.̵̮͋ ̷͈̌ W̸̡͑ḙ̸̂ ̸̢͐ S̶̲̈h̴͕͗a̴̯̿l̵̲̾l̴̮͠ ̵̘̃ H̸̑͜a̴̲̿v̷͚̽e̷͌ͅ ̶̙̚ Ạ̴̀ ̸͙̕ L̶̹͘i̴̭̕t̴͖͋ť̷̠l̶͓̃e̴͕̓  ̴̬̊Ṣ̵͗e̶̞͆s̴̥͆s̶̼̆ĩ̴̞o̵̩̾ñ̴͚,̶͇̏ ̴̑ͅ A̵̘͗n̷͇̏d̴̺̅ ̶̛͜ Ÿ̴̡́o̴̥͝ů̸̞ ̵͉̈́ W̴̝͒i̵̖͠l̶̻̀l̶̻͛ ̷̤̋ S̷̝̅h̷͎̓ơ̶͙w̷̄ͅ ̸͕͊ Ḿ̴̦e̶̼̅ ̶̙̔ H̸̥́o̷̩͆w̷̦͝ ̸͖̅ M̶̐͜ū̷̲c̷̯͊ḩ̵̏ ̶̥̓ Y̸͂ͅõ̶͓ụ̶̅ ̸̼͆ H̵͚͆ą̶̋v̴̜͋e̶̻̕ I̶͉̐m̵̦̚p̶͍͘r̵̹̈́ȯ̸͖v̶̤̌ė̷̹d̴͔̽.̷̘̃ ̶̣͝ T̶̰̀h̵̭͊è̸̪ ̸̟̉ C̵̪͆ȧ̶͕r̵̦͌n̸̜̄a̴̱̚l̵̕͜ ̸̢́ A̶̡̿ǹ̶̞t̵̨͐i̴̹͂c̵̗̓ĭ̵̲p̴͓͒a̸̤̅ẗ̴̫́i̷̛ͅo̷͖͗n̴̜̓ ̶̘͌ Ị̸́s̵̳̈́ ̸͎̉ T̵͇̏õ̶͚o̴̰̍ ̵̢̀ M̴̠̕u̷̢̅ç̷̓ȟ̷͎ ̸̻̒ F̵̫͂o̶̫̒r̶̢̛ ̵̗͋ M̸̤̅ȇ̸̤ ̸̮̍ T̶̖̑õ̴̜ ̶̓͜ B̴̤͆e̶͓͛a̶̰̾ṛ̸̚ ̵̣͛ W̵̠̚i̶̯̽t̷̤́ḧ̸̜́.̴̹̓”

YesYesYes! The Thin Man was doing his big speek, and he would start to feel better. “You happy. Be fun for’gether!” The Thin Man chuckled in his scratchy way.

“Ŏ̷̭h̷̩͒ ̶̪̐ Y̸̲͊e̸̜͑s̷͆͜.̸̝͝  ̶̯̅Ȉ̶̤ ̷̺̏ Á̷̧m̴̱̊ ̷͖̓  C̷̡͑ẽ̸͙r̵̨̅ť̴͕a̸͍̾i̵͈͗ņ̴̓ ̷͓͘  ̸̟̈́Y̶̞͛ȍ̶̙ŭ̸̫ ̸̤̓ W̸̧͌ï̸̫l̶̘͛ḻ̸̄ ̵̲͂ Ĕ̶̳n̷͙͛j̸̳̇o̵̗͛y̸̮͊ ̵̜̉ O̶͎̾u̵̧͘r̸͈͊ ̸̛̗ A̶̭͠c̷͇̔t̸̪̏ḭ̷̑ṿ̷̐i̶͚͠t̷̺̄y̵̫͝ ̶̬̓ Ṫ̷̩ó̶̫G̵̜̓e̸̗̒T̴̬́h̷͚̊E̷͖͘r̴̞̋.̷̭͒  W̴̡͐ĕ̵̺ ̶͈̅ H̶͚͂a̶͓͒v̶͈̇ĕ̵ͅ ̷͉̍ S̴͖͗ö̵̘́ ̴̧̐ M̶̮͒ȕ̴̡c̵̰͊h̶̩̚ ̶̥͘ T̶̗͘ọ̷̅ ̸̗͑ D̸̢̊ȏ̸̯,̵̞̀ ̶͎͗ Ã̸͎n̴̜̈d̶̡͑ ̶̯̿ Ș̴̃o̸̪̅ ̵̼̿ L̷͙̏i̵̝͊ṯ̷̃t̶͉̋l̸͙̽e̷͈͋ ̵̻̉ T̶͍̕ï̷̙m̶̓ͅe̴̘͘.̸͇̿”

__

It was depressingly simple to ditch the kid and get away for his own sanity. He only needed some frivolous occupation to attach the child to, clarify a solid objective, then after the (anticipated) sequence of failed attempts, check out and leave the boy to his exponentially increasing frustration. That single-mindedness was his one downfall, but he could exploit that feature at times.

At this point, he could no longer recall what it was he had left the boy to contend with. He could have requested the brat to raise a tree from a solid slab of pavement, and the child would sappily struggle to satisfy the goal. Poor boy, but it was his own fault for not heeding his insistent warnings. He was but a simple creature, with simple demands.

The Thin Man ‘sat’, folded nearly in half over a low and sloping table, in a booth in some obscure store somewhere in the Pale City’s general geographic situation. His current occupation was tap at the empty bottle that insisted on rolling down the table, and watch the shallow caramel liquid inside swirl and sweep with each flick of his fingers. His spare hand cradled the small glass he used to measure each dose.

He was long beyond the need for sustenance of any form, but the warm liquid unthreaded the tangles of his muddled ruminations. The child. The child. A sip or two sufficed to ebb the ache inside him when he recalled how that child scurried around, dug through the trash, or commandeer some random trinket to show off. A Ǵ̷͙i̷̗̾f̵̺͑ț̵͠ the boy called it. Keys and fuses he could deal with, but bones and boxes encrusted with fuzzy unknowns? Some days he ran out of idle threats to dispel the aggressive overbearingness.

His finger glanced off the dusty bottle, which allowed it to roll by his hand and smack him in the nose. The Thin Man lifted the bottle to set on a more stable slope of the table, and rubbed at his brow. A steady swell of static burrowed between his eyes, dragging forth foggy black tinges in his peripheral. The aftermath of his sessions made him feel as if he returned to the Tower doors, and took his proper place upon his throne. If he found another bottle, it would stave off the encroaching retaliation steeping within his skull. How could a being of semi-incorporeal static feel such agony? It was not fair. Nothing of his existence was fair.

The static particles of his outline fluttered and buzzed, as he pushed himself into a more upright posture. With some care he managed to untangle his long legs from beneath the collapsed underside of the booths supporting braces, and shuffled one long leg out beside the sinking bench. He could dematerialize and teleport, but he was unsure where he’d wind up. Instead, he wilted forward and massaged his palms against his eyes. The bottle precariously perched upon the table did an impressive sideways vault, and smashed against the musty tile. He scowled more at the loss of the contents over the splinting pierce of the noise.

The Thin Man jolted and buried his face in his hands, as the building filled with a blast of cold gray sheen. Every skeletal bit of metal, each glittery piece of glass embedded in the garbage, and the puddles of water blazed with a hypothetical heat against his eyes. The rolling howl drowned the cascade of water rushing in through the ceiling, and splint his skull in two. A sip or more might have reinforced any mediocre resolved he had with detaching from his current address. Alas...

Beneath the crackle of thunder, another clatter ignited somewhere within the vicinity of the walls. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Naturally, it was impossible to secure a moments respite from the relentless child.

“D̵͕̈́ì̴͉d̴̛̼ ̸̗̕ T̸̝̿h̴̒͜e̵̞͠ ̵̠̆ B̸̃ͅó̴̩y̶̲͋ ̴̦̿ S̷̬̊a̷͇͐t̶̛͕ị̷͠s̶͈͆f̷̻̃ỹ̷̱ ̴͕͒ T̵̠͐ḥ̴͠ē̴͚ ̷̳͊ T̸͕͆a̸̬͋s̶̢̀ǩ̴͇ ̸̻̈́ S̵̞͒e̵̲̅t̸͔͐ ̶̼́ F̷͙̂o̶͚͝r̶͕̿ ̵̗̑ Ḥ̵̑i̶̲͌m̴͉̆?̵̧̎ ̴̰̿ O̴̺̔r̸̟͂ ̸̱̅ Ḩ̴̚a̶͉̾s̶̛ͅ ̴͕̐ H̵͔̐ẻ̶̜ ̶͍̐ S̶̫̏ṵ̴͂r̶̡͒r̴͉͊e̶͍͋n̶̦͐d̴̲͒ẽ̶̮r̴̪̆ȇ̵̩d̵́͜,̷̬͠ ̷̜̓ Ĭ̴̲n̷̞͝ ̷̱̈́ F̴̙̄ä̵͎v̸̧͌o̸̤̍ṙ̴̥ ̴͍͘ Ò̸͍F̵̮̌ ̸̝̌ T̶͚͐ơ̵̙r̶͉̎m̶̦̌ë̷̯́n̸͉̕t̸̖̋i̷͔͠n̴̗͂g̶̨̋ ̶̻̓ T̸̬͒h̷̪́é̵͎ ̴̨̀ Ṁ̶̰à̶̯s̸͈̊t̸̤̎e̴̛͔r̶̹̉ F̴̺͒u̶͍͌ȑ̶̖ṭ̵̽ḩ̴̒ȅ̵͖ṙ̸͈?̶̜̈” He sat, leaning out of the booth waiting for the bludgeoning within his eye sockets to subside. The boy typically hid himself until he had worked out that a room was clear of anything, minus himself, before emerging to chatter and tug at him. Sometimes it was easier to resign to his sentence, but he was far from enthusiastic and dreaded the oncoming chatter.

No new noises or scuttling indicated further presence. Likewise, he did not sense the shared transmission. That was some relief, but he was certain that clatter was not of the shelves settling. A new threat could be lurking, though nothing in all the Pale City could harm him. None, save for the child. Oh the irony.

The Thin Man pushed himself up and further away from the booth, elevating himself until he was certain his legs were sturdy enough to hold him. He fixed his hat and adjusted his collar, while he gave the shops layout a casual glimpse. The interior offered nothing but the hospitality of the cities ransacked dwellings, the surrounding shelves littered with nothing buts scraps of food packages, a thriving abundance of rust. The high ceiling collapsed inward, fouling the interior with a thick sheet of mist and white capped rapids.

If other creatures or the rare Viewer came to restock on supplies, he doubted they would find much in terms of sustenance. To be honest, he never saw a Viewer consume anything but the electromagnetic wavelengths of the transmission. He scarcely ever saw a Viewer with a mouth.

“Ḿ̵̢ǘ̵̺s̴̰̃t̶̝̋ ̴̪̈́ Y̸͇͊o̷̪̊u̸̟͌ ̵̼͊ B̸̞̿è̴̝ ̴̛̠ S̵̞̈ö̷̲ ̶̩̀ D̸̪̚r̶̯͒ā̴̹ṃ̴̈a̸̼̾t̷͕́ì̴͇c̶͖̃?̵̫͘” posed the Thin Man, as he moved beneath the outer ring of the ruined ceiling and mingled with the haze. “W̶͉̌h̷͕̑a̵̡͑t̸̰̏ ̵͉̓ Í̸̯s̷̝͐ ̴̧̀ T̸͓̓h̴̯̾ì̵̬s̴͓̐ ̴̪̈́ N̴̥͘e̵̱̐é̴͇d̶̬̓ ̶̢͆ Ỳ̷̮o̷͗͜ú̶̗ ̸̹̃ M̴͚̽u̵̡͝ș̶̏t̸͕̐ ̸̰̽ F̴̠̈u̷͔̔l̶͇̕f̷̩̃ḯ̷͉l̴̮͝ ̵̜̇ I̴̊͜n̷̝͝ ̴̥͝ H̵͍̕į̵̿d̴̢͛í̵̫n̷͈̓g̸̻̕ ̵̙͂ F̴̰̋r̵̡̂o̵̡̓m̴̏͜ ̴͈̎ M̴͈̿ę̸͘?̶̭̍”

And where could the child be? He was curious about the sound, but as he paused and gave the store another skim with his sullen gaze, nothing threatening stood out. As well, he did not know how well he could contend with a Viewer should one surprise him. He did not believe he should give it the time, or allow it near. Mmm… prodding the topic began to press the drilling deeper into his brow. He did not favor a chance encounter, though the conclusion would be all the same. The skirmish would require some participation on his part.

“C̴̬̀o̶͝ͅm̸̥͂ḛ̵̿ ̵̢̓ O̶̩̓ự̴t̴̼͋,̷͓̊  ̸͖̎C̵̯͘o̶̱̎m̷̹̌e̴̻͘ ̸̭̆Ó̶͙u̸̥̿t̸̮͐,̷͙̏ ̷͈̉ W̶̧̐ḧ̴̞́e̸͚͒ŕ̶̢ę̷̉ ̶̩͝ E̷̯͗v̸̧̽ḛ̴͒r̵̛̩ ̵̩̒ Y̴̭̽o̸̰̾u̴̮̎ ̶̘̒ A̶͂͜r̴͇͋e̴̛͙.̶̧̑”

He skipped between the aisles in static pulses, the few bulbs saved from becoming swollen grapes, dimmed and flashed with each sporadic trace. In one section, a box on the low level tipped off the shelf and thumped against the floor. He halted and listened as something, or someone, skittered away. Hmm.

“C̶h̸i̷l̷d̴?̸ ̸ W̸i̷l̴l̷ ̶ Y̷o̵u̴ ̸ S̸h̵o̷w̸ ̴ Y̵o̶u̷r̸s̶e̴l̷f̶?̸ ̴ Y̵̙͐o̵͑ͅu̵̲̎ ̷͕͗ K̷̞̈́ń̸̨ơ̷̠w̸͍̒ ̶̱̅ Ḧ̷̥́ò̷̤ŵ̷͖ ̶̬͌ T̷͈̾h̵̝̅e̶̻̊s̷̜͆e̶̳͆ ̴̳̆ G̶̱̓ȃ̶̳m̶̫͘ẹ̷̾š̷͓ ̶̫́ E̶̛̜m̸͇̐b̵̬̋i̸̟̋t̴̺́ṫ̶̰e̶͎̕r̶͉̿ ̸͘͜ M̵̜͒ě̵̗.̶̤͐” He bent low and checked beneath the broke ledge of a shelf. When nothing in the cluttered beneath profurred evidence, he next checked the discarded box. “T̴h̴i̶s̴ ̷ D̵o̷e̸s̸ ̷ N̵o̷t̷ ̷ A̴p̷p̵e̵a̶r̴ ̷ V̶e̶r̶y̸ ̷ E̸d̶i̷b̷l̶e̵.̴”

In a glimmer he returned to his feet, tilting his head as he examined the worn lid of the box. Whatever was going at the container did not get into the main contents. He could not even decide what the box contained – giving the box a shake, something sifted and puffed within the confines of the box. A clumpy cloud rolled forth, among a swarm of antennae and glossy legs. He tilted his head.

Somewhere not far from his station, a faint creak slipped beneath the crashing waves of water. The buildings always murmured about their aches and woes, but he was familiar with the movement of the environment around a stealthy child. He grimaced.

“I̷ ̵ C̶o̶u̴l̴d̷ ̵ D̶o̵ ̶ W̶i̸t̴h̷o̵u̸t̸ ̴ T̸h̸i̶s̸ ̸ Puerility.” With a flashy glitchy, he relocated to the general location where the sound curled from. He took a cigarette from his coat and let the dry flame bloom between his palms. “I̶ ̷ A̷m̶ ̶ R̶e̸a̸d̴y̶ ̵ T̶o̷ ̷ T̴a̶k̵e̷ ̶ M̷y̵ ̴ L̸e̷a̵v̶e̵ ̴ A̵n̶d̸ ̵ L̵e̷t̷ ̶ Y̶o̷u̸ ̸ T̵o̶ ̵ W̸h̸a̴t̶e̶v̷e̵r̶ ̵ B̷u̵s̸i̵n̸e̸s̴s̵ ̶ Y̶o̷u̶ ̶ H̵a̶v̸e̶ ̴ A̶s̵s̵i̷g̴n̶e̸d̷ ̷ Y̸o̷u̸r̷s̵e̸l̴f̸.̸” In truth, he was irritated the child abandoned whatever task he left him to attend. Though for the existence of him, the specifics still eluded the man in the hat - it was the principle.

He waved the swell of smoke from his face, and clicked down the aisle. Every few steps he thought the whisper of movement slipped behind packaging and heaps of rot, he only paused briefly to glance around and seek the suggested movement. This business succeeded in making the buzzing pulse deepen behind his eyes, and the drum of the rainfall more intense as if the icy beads were punching through his suggestion of an outline.

It was not too terrible to look at the glittering ribbons of water rushing inward from the ceiling edge, or to reach out and let the heavy pellets fill his palm. The frothing water swirled with his static substance, forming an inky stream with silver caps.

He had not recalled that time, that one day, in… he could not recall when last he thought of chasing the child. No greater ambition motivated him, no promise was more enticing than what the Flesh had promised him.

Ṱ̶͙̚O̵̟̽ ̴͈̯͒͂ T̷͕̉H̵͌̃ͅE̷̳̮͛ ̷̠̄ Ṫ̷͙O̷͙͒͐W̸̱̒͐E̵̫͗̇R̷̭̅

̷̠͗͗

̶̙͋T̵͚̃̓H̵͙̯̏E̸͚̤͑N̴̘̐ ̴͖̬̀ R̵̻̈́̏Ę̴́S̵͇̾Ț̷̑̋

̶̢̏

̷̣̠̌R̶̭̆̀E̵͋ͅP̷̨͠Ĺ̵̰Ȃ̵̭͂C̷̤̾̕E̷̫̿

̷͈̒

̵̠̿͋Y̸̬͕̓Ǒ̸̻̑U̵̹̚Ŗ̶͇̄̓ ̵̬̓ R̵̯͛̽E̴͎̐P̶̜̚R̸͈̳̅̄I̴̩̥͒Ȇ̸͍V̷̢͐̊Ë̵̯̜́̀

̴̨̐̒

̷̢̤̃B̸͔̙͌̀R̷̝̤͝I̶͈̐ͅN̷͇̪̓̇Ǵ̶̝̭ ̶̮̋ T̶̳͔̈͆Ḫ̸͘̕Ȅ̴̪͚

̶̠̅͠

̴̘͗Y̶͉̽͠O̵̱͇͂̅Ũ̴̡͔Ŗ̴͍̀͝S̸̈́̚͜Ẹ̵̫̽̓L̵̽͜F̸͔̰͝

̴̛͕̭

̴̣̀R̵̮̺̅Ĕ̷̝̚P̵͈͓̋L̶̞͗͘A̴̳̋̒C̵͉͊̆E̴̟̝̐

̷̨̔

̴̯͚̒͛Ś̸̙͒Ū̷͙͍C̴̝͆C̷͈͕͝Ȅ̶̗̠̎S̶̰̈́͠S̴͔̪̽̚Ȏ̵̙̤R̴̯͗̈

̷̺̗̇Y̵̝̾͆O̴̡͐̚U̶̡͉͛̈́ ̷͑̐ͅ S̷̢̻̈́̆Ȩ̶̫̔E̴̮͐̔K̵̨͍̚

̶̩̎͆

̶͕͖͌C̷̜͛̂H̷̹̓̽I̶̱͋L̶̖͛͆D̴̼̐

̷͖̀̽

̷͈͊Y̵̜͚͛̉Ö̸̯̼́U̸̪͒ ̶͉͘

̴̢̝̽́

̴̲̔W̴̯͙̽I̶̝̱͋̋L̶͓̣̏L̷̮̓͑

̵̮̆

̶̡͕̔͝F̴̛͖Ą̸̩̋I̴̖͚͋̿L̵͚̑͗

̷̜͔̔

That was all he had left to wish for in this dying world. Acquire the child, fulfil the cycle. What always has been, shall always be. Removing the boy from the equation was… should have corrupted the endless loop, yet he still existed. There was no point in dallying or overanalyzing on what was ‘to be’.

“I̸f̶ ̷ Y̵o̷u̶ ̵ A̶r̸e̴ ̸ A̵n̶g̶r̴y̴ ̴ W̸i̷t̷h̵ ̴ M̴e̴,̶ ̶ T̷h̵a̷t̵ ̴ I̶s̸ ̸ Ń̴̠ơ̵̦ ̷̢͊ P̷̲͋r̷̳̃i̸͈͂ȯ̵̼r̸̢̔i̸͑͜t̵̤̐y̷̤͆ Ŏ̷͍f̸̝̌ ̶̪͝ M̶̢̛i̵̪̅n̴̤͊e̵̬͊.̷̟̾” He dropped his arm and moved beneath the open cavern of the ceiling, uncaring how the rains pummeled his hat or shoulders. The delicate ember of his smoke was properly shielded by his hat rim, and gleamed against the wispy spray swirling. “I̵ ̷ C̸a̸n̵n̵o̶t̵ ̶ T̶u̸n̵e̵ ̶ N̸o̵r̵ ̶ T̷w̸e̵a̵k̸ ̴ M̶y̸s̵e̴l̷f̵,̷ ̷ A̴n̴d̶ ̸ C̷a̵t̸e̷r̶ ̶ T̵o̸ ̸ E̴v̴e̷r̸ ̴ M̵i̵n̸u̶t̷i̸a̸ ̵ O̴f̵ ̸ Y̵o̶u̴r̵ ̶ C̸h̸i̵l̴d̶i̸s̷h̶ ̵ D̴e̸m̶a̴n̷d̵s̸”

From the edge of his eye, a flash of movement ducked around the corner of a collapsing counter. In a crackling flash, he arrived at the distant wall and stepped around the layout of destruction and discarded inventory crates obstructing his path. He kept his attention locked on all visible edges of the furnishings sides, coiled to spring for should the child reveal himself. In another glimmer, he bypassed the fixture and materialized in the small space behind the counter, beads of water flashed off his suit as he snapped his arms out.

“D̶i̷d̵ ̵ I̶ ̷ N̵o̵t̸ ̷ S̷a̴y̴—” Like a dead signal, he flatlined. His arms wound slowly back to his sides as he put together his misstep and errors. The dull twisting in his skull doubled, with no indication of relief within grasp.

Crouched against a high pile of sunken boxes, huddled a child. Not his boy, Tower no, that would be too easy. This scoundrel was some other kid that was wandering loose in the city without a care of the streets. As he observed this other kid - pressed back into a corner between the benches solid base and a lopsided box - he tilted his head. Well, that explained why he couldn’t detect the transmission. He was almost relieved.

Ā̶̝̞̚l̸̢̳̀m̶͖͘o̶̧̙͂̆s̴͙̊t̷̮̤͑͝

He gave this unknown trespasser a careful scrutiny. Since his penance to the Tower, he lost track of how many children he brought into his S̶̜̑a̶̲͆n̷̼͘c̴̺̊ẗ̸͇́u̷̼͊a̴̤͂r̸̗͑y̷̨̌.̸̟͗. Somewhere among all the many dirtied faces, the despairing eyes, the mistrustful glaring, he stopped guiding the lost ones into his prison home. He was tired and he was exhausted by the spiral of failure he had been subjected to. It was far too many decades later that he would begin to suspect what he had contributed, as the broken Broadcaster of the Tower. A self-fulfilling prophecy he was the unwilling vessel to.

It occurred to him that he had not moved an inch, and he was just standing while staring at this child. The children skulking about the Pale City adapted to stealth, and those that could not acclimate to the most rudimentary principles simply ceased to be – either caught or culled. More often caught and taken away from the city’s boarders. Being spotted, such as in this instance, was a death sentence in its own right, no exceptions. Second chances did not happen, save for divine intervention of a select few… swathed in a particular C̵̫͐ȏ̴̹l̵̦̈ỏ̴̙r̴̟̉.̷̠̀

“O̶f̷f̸ ̸ H̶a̴n̴d̶,̴ ̴ I̸ ̵ W̴i̸l̴l̷ ̷ P̸o̵s̶t̴u̵r̵e̶ ̵ T̴h̴a̶t̵ ̷ Y̸o̸u̵ ̸ A̵r̴e̵ I̷l̸l̸-̸e̸q̸u̴i̷p̷p̵e̸d̶ ̷F̸o̶r̷ ̵T̵h̴i̸s̸ ̵T̸r̸i̵a̸l̶,̵” the Thin Man mentioned, knowing the child could know nothing of his speek. He took stock of the ratty hair, the blue shirt, his stained pants. A single eye bordered by greasy locks of hair, did swell to saucer sized proportions. “W̷h̵a̷t̸ ̴ A̵n̴ ̶ U̵n̷f̷o̴r̷t̴u̵n̵a̸t̴e̴ ̴ R̵i̴s̵k̵ ̷ T̵o̴ ̴ H̴i̷d̸e̴ ̶ H̶e̴r̶e̶.̴ ̸ H̷m��m̵?̷” He plucked at the cigarette at his lips and exhaled a rich fog. “Y̷o̷u̷ ̵ M̷u̶s̸t̸ ̴ N̶o̷t̸ ̶ B̵e̴ ̸ F̶a̶m̸i̴l̷i̸a̶r̷ ̷ W̶i̶t̷h̶ ̷ T̷h̶i̷s̸ ̷ A̴r̴e̷a̷.̴  H̷m̸m̷.̴ ̶ Y̶o̷u̸ ̶ A̸r̴e̵ ̸ N̴o̴t̶ ̴ F̴r̷o̷m̵ ̸ T̶h̷i̵s̷ ̵ T̸e̷r̸r̶i̵t̶o̴r̵y̶.̶”

That was the only rational for ducking into a corner.

The Thin Man slipped his gaze from the child, and glanced across the countertops and discarded novelty items left from when this shop once was rich with stock. The few packets of cigarettes had melted or turned to mold, not that he needed to visit a store for his fix.

“H̴o̶w̶ ̵ A̶b̷o̷u̷t̷ ̶ T̷h̵i̷s̴?̶ ̷ W̷e̷ ̷ P̴l̵a̴y̴ ̵ A̶ ̸ N̸e̵w̸ ̷ G̸a̵m̷e̸?̵” He looked down at the child – who had not budged at all – and smiled. “I̸ ̶ W̶i̵l̵l̷ ̶ T̷u̴r̵n̸ ̷ M̷y̸ ̷ B̸a̵c̸k̷ ̷ A̶n̴d̶ ̷ B̸e̵g̷i̴n̴ ̵  ̸A̸ ̵ ̷ C̶o̴u̵n̴t̵.̸ ̶ Y̸o̸u̴ ̸ C̶a̶n̸ ̸ H̸a̵v̵e̷,̶ ̴ S̶a̵y̸.̵.̷.̷ ̶ T̸w̸e̸n̴t̴y̴-̸F̸i̷v̷e̸ ̴ C̵o̷u̵n̶t̵s̷,̸ ̸ T̴o̷ ̷ H̵i̸d̵e̷.̸ ̶ A̴f̸t̷e̵r̷ ̷ I̴ ̸ E̶n̶d̶ ̶ T̷h̴e̶ ̸ C̷o̵u̸n̵t̸,̸ ̸ I̴ ̵ S̷h̴a̶l̵l̷ ̴ B̴e̶g̴i̴n̴ ̸ T̸o̶ ̷ S̵e̴e̴k̶.̸ ̵ I̸f̷ ̷ Y̴o̶u̸ ̶ M̷a̵n̷a̶g̵e̵ ̶ T̶o̷ ̷ E̶l̶u̷d̴e̸ ̵ M̴e̶,̵ ̴ K̸i̷d̶,̷ ̶ T̶h̸e̴n̵ ̵ Y̸o̴u̵ ̷ H̷a̸v̸e̸ ̸ T̸h̵e̶ ̴ P̶r̸i̷v̵i̷l̸e̵g̷e̸ ̵ T̴o̶ ̸ R̴u̶n̵ ̵ A̵w̶a̷y̵ ̴ F̸o̵r̴ ̸ A̴n̷o̵t̵h̵e̵r̵ ̷ D̴a̶y̸.̸  B̴u̸t̷….” He leaned down, studying how the child recoiled from his looming shadow.

“I̵f̴ ̴ I̸ ̵ C̷a̷p̶t̴u̷r̵e̵ ̷ Y̵o̶u̶,̶ ̸ T̷h̴e̶n̷ ̷ W̷e̷ ̵ S̴h̸a̵l̶l̶ ̸  ̵H̷a̷v̵e̸ ̶ T̵o̸ ̶ E̵v̴a̸l̷u̵a̸t̷e̵ ̷ Y̵o̵u̶r̶ ̶ L̸i̵f̴e̵ ̸ C̴h̸o̵i̴c̷e̴s̶.̵” Truthfully, he did not have a care for this game. At the same time, he could not deny his investment in the scenario. He suspected this child to have a pack of one or more somewhere, and if he could deduce the general location for where they frequented, he could drop his boy there and let him figure things out.

Or not. What the blasted eye on a door?

The Thin Man only physically spun himself around, but before he lifted his foot, his attention snapped to two children in the entrance of a nearby aisle at his left. The movement of the pair was vivid, though typical of their adopted nature neither child uttered a sound, and he could scarcely pick out the fumbling of their clothing as they clawed or bit the other. The physical violence escalated as the two rallied against their foe, their constricted breathing became steadily audible.

He had to ask again, and blink – what in the eye on a door? Where did these spare children come from? How long had they been lurking? The Thin Man stalled as he struggled to reflect and reassure himself he was not some dunce when it came to children (never mind he was a self-proclaimed retiree).

With a groan, the Thin Man massaged his eyes with his fingers and tried not to inhale the whole cigarette. It was a whole infestation. “I̶ ̷ D̶i̷d̴ ̸ N̶o̸t̷ ̴ S̸i̵g̶n̴ ̶ U̴p̷ ̸ F̴o̶r̸ ̴ T̶h̴i̴s̸.̷ ̸ N̷o̸t̷ ̴ N̸o̸w̷,̷ ̴ N̷o̴r̶ ̷ T̸h̵e̴n̴,̴ ̸ O̴r̷ ̵ E̷v̸e̸r̵.̷ ̶ N̴o̴.̷” He could feel the Tower shrieking through the transmission.

The only way this could get better is if his boy popped out of empty space and squeaked about… smashing some critter to gummy bits, the way he was prone to. He could do without that drama.

Against all odds, there must have been a higher power above the Tower, which kept the nonexistent alignment of the stars in check. The crazed little boy in the paper bag (or hat) did not skid out of nowhere. It was just the two children—

W̷̦̥̰̭͛A̷̬̐̃͗İ̸͇͇̓͜͝T̶̮͗̂!̸̛͇͎̽̓  H̸̨͚̉̃̄e̶͍͔̬̍͗̒ ̸̡͗ K̸̘̗͍̒͠ñ̴͓̮̞͐é̵̜̱w̴͖̏̓͠ ̶̣͝ T̵͒̅ͅḣ̷̖̮̏͝ä̸͍̤t̸͓͈̍̇ ̴̹̽̀ B̷͈͐̾̌l̷͕̦̪̊a̸̺̠̤͂͂ṉ̵̃̄͊ḱ̷̫̘̣̄e̵̥̭͍͊̄́t̸̩͓̭̽͝͠!̵͇̹͒

Right when one child ceased strangling the other - in favor of abandoning the scene - the one! Garbed in the star blanket! It got its bearing fast enough, and scrambled across the floor. He teleported, and placed himself in range to reach out! Alongside his draw on the static, he slowed time and closed in.

Despite not having a spare leg, the other child was still agile enough to spring off the lone foot and shoot out of the netting of particles working to anchor on the child. With a hard retch to its side, the child crashed amongst the merchandise of the low, nearby shelf. Rotted boxes and waterlogged fabric oozed off the bent slate, the blockade barely hindered the child ‘swimming' through to the other side.

Omitting a residual question of where the Escort could be, the Thin Man focused on this child. He could get specifics later, this assailant had eluded him for too long.

Forgoing on the impulse of cutting the child off from routes or teleporting, the Thin Man simply used his powers to wretch the entire shelving rack from the bolts anchoring it to the cement foundation and chucked it aside. Globs of paper splattered the floor and ceiling, and metal carved the ground as the next shelf over toppled. The thick blanket of dust cleared, giving him access to the child and judge his next move. With the Tower as his witness, this bandit would not slink away.

The child uncoiled from its crouch among glass and ruble, perplexed or stunned, but I̵n̵f̷u̵r̵i̷a̴t̶i̸n̶g̷l̷y̶ ̷ unharmed. It gave the general area a hasty scope, though it had no clean direction of escaping and no capacity for evasion. Some ill-conceived splinter of obstinacy preserved this child – or most of it – until this point. The Escort must have lost patience for dealing with this child.

He swung towards the ruffian and cut the distance in three steps, he growled through white noise as the child tried pitifully to outpace his approach, flailing like a fish in shallow waters. To his surprise, the child pounced upon a small plate of bent metal; from a vent or piece of fortification lost from the ceiling. Before he can reach his quarry, they had already began to hydrofoil across the membrane of water by rowing with their hands.

And they moved shockingly fast.

For a spell, he was dumbfounded by this unforeseen ingenuity. The child remained confined by the sagging row of shelves it now glided among, bypassing obstructions by skimming hard and titling or clawing a the thin layer of water. It nearly toppled on a rough patch beneath the surface, but corrected its posture in record pace and stole back the lost momentum.

The Thin Man shrug off the stupor and began moving, in the process he stalled out time and teleported closer. Despite the rigorous interference, the child remained ahead of his pace and was building momentum. Raising his long arms, the man in the hat gripped for static tethers at the shelves not inverted or undone. Heaps of moldering packages and crumbling plastic sullied the falling water, and dashed across the floor when they made impact. Not everything he flung was a worthwhile projectile, but even a patch of mold or thirsty dollop of flour would ground the sailor. His goal would be knock the vandal out with a rusted sharp canister.

Somehow, the interference was unable to hinder the child for long. The Thin Man stalled time and teleported, but the child had a surplus of propulsion on its sled and managed to zoom ahead of his general range. It was going to get beyond the corralling aisle, if an entire slate hadn't bent off from the shelf and sliced downward, towards the kids trail. For certain, that would end this pursuit. Yet as before, he underestimated a child’s ingrained flair for survival.

The shelf clattered across the floor and for a moment the child vanished, and several other blocks of nameless merchandise scattered with a thundering calamity. That had to do it.

To his irritation, the child emerged from the settling mound of scattered supplies – a dark brown fluid mingled with the frothing shallows, among thick powders of various consistency, many dissolving or sinking into the churning waters. The slate of metal spiraled as the child skimmed to avoid the sludge, but the boy maintained his balance and speed despite the insane twirls they became caught up in. All the time, moving closer to the end of the row.

This would go no further.

The Thin Man clipped through to the far side of the next row, still unable to get ahead of the child. So be it. The cascaded rivers crashed over his hat and shoulders as he swung his arms high, locking his static reach into the shelves enclosed around the child. The high racks and twisted slates folded inward, shrieking as metal crumpled into itself, sharp edges ground across calcite incrusted corners, bottles burst and the wave of contents stained curtains of water briefly. An immeasurable howl sliced through the gurgling rivers, multiplying by a dozen decibels as more of the fetid supplies shredded on the churning sawblades fashioned from the twisting metal compressing, snapping, and tumbling down. Supplies launched skyward, or became mulch in the meshing and crushing of interlocked pieces. Burst contents swirled into the boiling mist beneath the shattered ceiling.

Like a bored conductor of an orchestra, the Thin Man flashed his hands through the steady stream of water, coercing more of the shelving into the remaining pathways. He teleported to another corridor among the rows, dismantling every inch of the wretched metal and demolishing any scrap of salvageable rations. The Thin Man did not bother stopping, not until the remnants of the racks had transformed into a twisted bramble of metal releasing a steady huff of dust; skewered boxes served as buds, scattered glass served as repulsive leaves. A masterpiece if were to judge, though he was only there to fulfil a duty.

In a sputtering glimmer, the Thin Man reappeared in a space further from the mangled mess and patrolled around the perimeter, seeking any sign or a glimmer of indication that the child was scuttling about. Varied shades of fluid swirled from beneath the haggard spines of the butchered metal. He was not at ease and knew, despite the wreckage laid out, this child would crop up somewhere else. Hard to believe, but he recalled all that his child could achieve, the destiny he was meant to fulfill.

C̷̮̕h̸̭͛i̴̩̍l̴̻͝d̴͚̕r̶̦̎ë̸̜́n̷̼̄ ̸̙̾ S̸͎̆h̶͎͌o̶̙͐u̵͓̐ḽ̶̾d̷̗̍ ̷͕͌ Ṅ̵͜ë̸͔́v̴͓͗e̴̘̐r̶̭̈́ ̵̠̄ B̸̼̿e̴͖̕ ̷̛͚ Ǘ̴̞ṇ̷̅d̸̀͜ě̵͕r̶̰̄ẻ̷̻ș̶̇t̴̤͠i̸̪͂m̵̬̽a̷̮̓t̴̟̃e̵̙͌d̴̞̒

The twisted amalgamation of rust and pulverized food supplies continued to creak or whine as he lingered, watching but not quite seeing. He plucked at the cigarette and let the mist cloak his hazy silhouette. No doubt, that child would emerge once more. He would not feel at ease until he knew for certain, but there was no way he would sift through the wreckage.

A lone bottle escaped the mayhem nearly unscathed, except for scratches on the surface. It spun slowly, until the Thin Man pressed his foot upon the side. He took up the bottle and inspected the contents through the dull sheen of gray. The label was tarnished, but he knew by the shape and color what the contents would be. With a flick of his hat he spin away, for the while reassured even if the reprieve would be short.

Of all the meaningless imprudence, he had wanted to entertain the notion of seeking a competent pack for the strange little shadow following him. Even if that hypothetical was meant to be no more than a temporary distraction – when his child refused to give him a reprieve from the nagging – that other child was grim reminder of the sort of malice children directed at other survivors. This law was especially true of those with the fewest options and highest stakes. Alas, the last thing Mono needed was other children. Least, he encounter another betrayer. T̸h̷a̷t̶ ̸ C̷o̷l̵o̸r̷ ̴ W̸a̷s̷ ̵ S̸t̶i̵l̶l̴ ̵ O̸u̴t̸ ̸ T̶h̶e̸r̷e̶,̶ ̶ L̵u̶r̸k̴i̷n̸g̷.̷

The Thin Man took his leave of the small, freshly demolished store. As his glittering outline dissolved among the glossy sheets of rushing water, more of the ceiling caved inward. The bellowing drapery of soot turned the gray mist into clumps of mud, until the building interior was no more recognizable than the forgotten warren of a forgotten beast.

In the absence and silence discarded by the Broadcaster, the building huddled upon its shredded innards. The smog began to clear, while the dense saturation of static ebbed beneath the rolling waters. Only when the presence faded entirely and the faint groaning of metal diminished, did a shape shift on the furthest side of the store.

The Snatcher detached from the sheltering cloak of black, and glared with the small cuts in its mask where the Broadcaster stood, before it dissolved into the haze - it did not know where that creature went, if it was gone completely, let alone where it came from. The Snatcher did not care to know. The whole place was in ruins, it's quarry sacked and all supplies decimated. It knew tales about the Broadcaster, but it was all a myth; a superstition. Even if there was merits of truth, the Broadcaster never departed the Tower. Aside from static imprints slipping through the television screens, it existed as a cryptid.

This was as good time as any to return to camp and trade supplies.

Next

[talktomeinclexa]

Clarke the Vampire Slayer

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Minor violence

Status: WIP

Summary: When Clarke, a 19-year-old pre-med student, wakes up one morning with superhuman strength, destiny comes knocking on her door. Sent to Polis to prevent a demon from opening the Hellmouth, she can count on Lexa, a former Watcher, and her new friends to help her dispose of vampires, demons, and other evil creatures. But will she succeed in stopping the Apocalypse?

***

Chapter 1: Destiny Awaits

The obnoxious ringing of the alarm echoed around the room, louder and louder, disregarding the poor girl hidden under her comforter. With a groan, she risked a hand out of the comfortable nest she had made for herself and felt around the bedside table for her phone. Or — as she dubbed it in her head at that moment — the modern, enslaving instrument of torture responsible for the din. Before she could locate it, the bathroom door opened, and an annoyingly nasal voice spoke over the ringing.

“Could you please turn off your alarm, Clarke? It’s been on for a minute straight, and it’s driving me crazy. Who sets their alarm so loud?”

Non-alien people who don’t magically wake up at six on the dot every single day without one, Kathy, Clarke thought from under her pillow. She had to give it to her roommate; the sound was irritating. That was kind of the whole point. How else was she supposed to wake up and drag herself out of bed, ready to face endless lectures and — Satan’s personal invention — group projects?

“You should hurry, or you’ll be late for your orgo class again. And you know how much your mother hates that. She made her disappointment pretty clear last week when she called.”

Why, oh why had Clarke thought that introducing her usually-kind-though-aggravating roommate to her mother, Dr. Abigail Griffin, would be a good idea? Kathy, always the people pleaser, loved nothing more than to keep Abby updated on Clarke’s life at Arkadia University. The cardiothoracic surgeon mercifully didn’t ask too many intrusive questions about Clarke’s love life. But she followed how well her only child was doing academically, going as far as to text Kathy when Clarke was being evasive.

Being a pre-med sophomore with a 3.8 GPA was not enough to please, no. Abby expected focus and perfection when it came to Clarke’s future as a medical doctor. Something she never forgot to remind her during their weekly phone call.

“I’m up. I’m up.”

Clarke sighed as she lifted her head from under the pillow and pushed away the comforter before shutting off the blaring device. Her phone, not her roommate. She had yet to find Kathy’s off button.

“You can go ahead. I’ll head out in a few and grab something from Starbucks on the way.”

“You know, you should really start eating healthier. Those muffins and cakes are sugar traps. And very bad for your teeth, too. As a future doctor, you should pay more attention to your diet.”

On any other day, Clarke would have rolled her eyes and replied something along the lines of, “Thank you, Second Mom.” They had replayed the same conversation so many times since freshman year; it was almost automatic. But she hadn’t slept well, weird vivid dreams plaguing her the whole night. Violence, a river of blood, people fighting and snarling at each other, strange faces with deformed features… She had woken up exhausted, and her patience hung by a thread. Rather than lose her temper at the woman she would have to live with for another six months, she grabbed some clothes and retreated into the bathroom with a huff.

Wondering why she felt so different that morning, Clarke took in her reflection in the mirror. As far as she could tell, nothing had changed since the night before. The slightly round, pretty face of a 5ft5, 19-year-old stared back at her with a frown. Deep blue eyes, a beauty mark above the lips, shoulder-length blond hair with pink highlights at the tips — her mother had thrown a fit, but Clarke refused to change it back. Chalking the qualm up to her nightmares, the girl bent over the sink and splashed her face with water to chase away her sleepiness.

“Hurry up. It’s already 7:43.”

“Damn it, Kathy. Just go. I’ll be on my way soon.”

Keep reading

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Now I'm just imagining Emmet trying to coax Clamberclaw to keep moving. They're tired and hurt! They want to stay in the dark subway tunnels! But they trudge after him anyway, because it's Emmet, of course they're going to follow him. And then they get outside, but to avoid most people they have to go the long way around, and they just keep sitting down. And even though he feels really bad about having to keep pushing them onward, it's not like Emmet could pick them up and carry them for long. Maybe haxorus could, or possibly gabodor though those arms look kinda flimsy, and either way it'd be pretty awkward.

Okay wait, I got it. Emmet manages to get them outside slowly but without too much difficulty or people seeing, but they're too tired to keep going so he gets haxorus to pick them up then drapes his coat over them. Helps block out bad sounds and smells and dims the light, plus it keeps them hidden so he doesn't have to worry so much about the wrong person seeing them.

A surprisingly easy win as long as he focuses on the task at hand and not on anything that might induce a breakdown. When he finally does get that well deserved breakdown, I assume that Clamberclaw just drags him into their new nest. Cuddle time with the unsettling sphinx-looking thing that is actually your brother as your brain imagines all sorts of horrible things!

ALTERNATE option: have chandelure psychic-levitate them along! you can't tell me that isn't something ingo trained it to do. AND psychic would probably be another good comforting thing: it's like a light pressure stim + the psychic energy probably filters out a lot of sensation from outside. add that to being wrapped up in emmet's coat (the one he's been wearing, even, it's warm and it smells like him and it's good-) and they're just totally calm now as he brings them home.

and then yesss it is nest time. the whole time while emmet's figuring out WTF Is Happening clamberclaw (once they're vaguely awake) is just steadily accumulating Soft Things from around the house to pile up on ingo's bed. blankets, pillows, couch cushions, sweaters, they are making the Biggest Coziest Nest Imaginable. now the only thing missing is nestmates to cuddle with!

alternately clamberclaw refuses to move from the safe place so it's ingo/emmet's pokemon who go around collecting things. cause this is the one thing they actually understand and can help with! this is all very confusing but weird... strong... monster... trainer... thing is tired and scared and wants a nest. this they understand. and emmet's Busy so they will handle it! they know their way around the house, anyway! (emmet comes back to find his bed has been stripped down to the mattress)

[luminberry]

Hey, I've been... going through a lot recently. Can I get some comfort noms from one of the members of the Annex crew? I would request Tricky, but I just feel like, after meeting the Arena peeps again and again, I know them better and... I don't feel like Tricky would be one to comfort someone. (You can do both and some point if you want or feel like it, I'm just really tired and upset and mentally drained of everything.)

im not the best with loose prompts but i'll give it a shot, apologies if this is late but do try and take care of yourself.

You hadn't been feeling very good since the third imprint had taken place. Everything was the same, again and again down to the damned weather patterns you noted.

It was having a bad affect on you that much you could tell. No one remembered you, to a extent not even Doc did aside from the bare bones basics and whatever he more than likely kept hidden from you from the very beginning.

Seeing faces you were already so familiar with before regard you as a very odd stranger only made it worse..No one would remember the memories you carried with you from each repeated life burned into new skin. You weren't sure how to address it when you were sure you'd be regarded as another insane person running through the streets of Nevada...

So you fell into a depression over trying to reason it out with only yourself to fall back on. None of your recruits or workers seemed to know what had happened when you suddenly became unresponsive and outright sullen for several days on end..It was worrisome to them that much was evident but unable to decide on what to do.

Well, all but one that was.

Skinner was a GOL3M of many skills that he took pride in, the top being able to ensure his patients were well taken care of and left his care happy and satisfied..And once he caught wind of his own employer falling ill in a different way he decided to make a personal call.

Skinner found you in your room huddled under a small nesting of blankets, you looked to be in quite a sorry state of being, that much anyone could tell just by looking at your tired face.

"What seems to be the problem today? You are usually my most jovial patient, but I've received word something seems to be the matter. I'm licensed to heal more than physical wounds you know. "

"It's...you'll think I'm crazy if I tell you what's bothering me..It won't make any sense."

"My dear I've seen all sorts of strange and crazy things in my career, whatever is troubling you I'm sure we can fix it together!"

As he talked a large warm hand found its way onto your head, gently ruffling it as the sheer size of it briefly engulfed your face from view..The warmth wasn't bad, you didn't realize how cold the annex tended to get at night.

If Skinner noticed you leaning into the gentle touch he thankfully didn't say anything, something you greatly appreciated.

You told him what troubled you, told him more than probably anyone else had a right to know. But in that brief moment of weakness it felt right to let your vulnerability show for once if only for this moment in time.

As you finished Skinner was silent for a few minutes, quietly mulling over the things you told him. The whole time he was silent however, his hand never strayed from your head, gently mussing the hair between his large fingers.

"Well now..I will admit that is a fair bit unusual to hear, a first even. But! It does give way to what ails you, and that my dear patient I can break down easily. You need close comfort, you feel untethered in this life of yours. A solid anchor will help ground you, perhaps a experience you've yet to have, something I think I can administer."

You sat up a little bit in your nest of blankets, very much intrigued on what he might mean..you had a few ideas but..None of them seemed to fit Skinners personality...

"Will you allow me to proceed with the procedure then? If at any time you wish to back out of the treatment I will accommodate for you."

You were interested and gave him permission to do..whatever the hell it was he was going to do to you.

Skinner nodded and shifted to take your head between both hands for a moment to study you, at this close angle you were very much aware just how small your current imprinted body was compared to how big the GOL3M was. You were stirred out of your thoughts as he removed the ever present medical mask from his face and stretched his jaws wide..you felt a tad bit light headed for some reason.

Was it just you or was Skinner getting bigger?

You were stunned as that mouth came closer slowly, feeling yourself being lifted up some from the bed you were distantly aware that he intended to eat you whole. Something about it seemed alarming but, a part of you knew Skinner wouldn't do anything to hurt a patient of his..

He slipped you inside with little to no resistance, mouth coating you with saliva readily as he worked to push you down into his throat with a gentle precise movement..it seemed like he had done this before. It was almost unbearably warm where you were, muscles all around you pulling you deeper and deeper still.

You could make out the loud but dull thrumming of Skinners heart and other bodily noises, and before long you felt the last of yourself being hidden away behind Skinners teeth and your journey speeding up until you felt yourself being forced to curl up in what was likely the stomach.

A deep sigh rang out all around you once you were settled in the dark warmth all around you.

"Are you comfortable in there? I admit it has been a fair amount of time since I've had to administer this type of treatment. But you will be safe regardless. You'll be released in a hour and a half's time to clean up and do a check up to see if your state has improved or not."

This was the treatment he had decided to give you? ...Well it was oddly cosy, you've never felt closer to anyone than you were right now. Hidden away in plain sight but far from alone, and someone was aware of you at all times..It certainly was a new experience.

"If it doesn't seem to be working we can repeat the procedure as much as needed..Or employ one of the others to lend a hand in the treatment. They've all been quite worried over you. New or not you will always have friends and confidants here. Now do rest up, I'll alert you when it's time to come out."

You felt a strange tug in your chest hearing that the others despite never knowing you still cared deep down...It was nice.

Giving the walls holding you a few gentle rubs you settled down to let the heat lull you to sleep for a while.