#where and how the limbs would be positioned in order to work. why this creature is shaped the way it is.

[ivipl1]

the funniest fucking thing abt me is that i was suddenly able to draw knight armor purely because i stopped treating it as clothes and started thinking of it as a bug carapace. using my own autism against my inability to draw in an instant one hit KO

[jayrockin]

i know your alien designs aren't very human, but do you have any advice on how design an upright and bipedal insect? or creatures with exoskeletons in general? so far i know that a hunched over posture will be needed to make room for all those arms and vestigial wings. the bipedalism is what is currently throwing me for a loop- both in how it evolved and the leg structure/gait. maybe creating something with a mix of internal and external skeletons would be better for this kind of creature?

Long post, but I couldn’t resist an opportunity to talk about LEGS: how and why?

One reason animals evolve bipedalism is because it’s very energetically efficient. Humans are champs at endurance walking partly because we’re letting gravity do half the work, falling forward with every step. In comparison, an animal like a beetle or a newt with splayed legs has a very stable standing position, but in all parts of their walk cycle, they’re actively pushing their body up against gravity. This is no biggie when you weigh a fraction of an ounce, but once you’re pushing 50 pounds it becomes a chronic problem. In the evolution of land vertebrates, you can see limb attachments starting at the sides of the body (i.e. ancient amphibians) where the fins used to be, but in later animals, the limbs moved underneath the body and became struts to passively support their body weight against gravity. (i.e. a horse)

But why move onto only two legs? Well, feet are also heavy, and in order to walk you have to lift them up. This is the motivation for many animals evolving digitigrade or even unguligrade legs: if there’s less heavy bones and complex joints at the end of your leg, that’s less weight to pull up against gravity, which means you can run slightly faster and walk slightly more efficiently.

And for animals with only two walking legs, that’s even LESS weight that they have to lift around in order to get up and go places... at the price of having fewer backups in case of injury.

So, that’s great. What about arthropods though? Well, I think the main reason we don’t see any bipedal arthropods on our planet right now is because they don’t have any of the evolutionary pressures that cause it. First of all, they aren’t big and heavy-- arthropods are limited by their passive diffusion respiratory systems, and their need to wriggle out of their entire skeleton and be mushy for a while after in order to grow. Second, they’re not being pushed into the long distance walking lifestyle of humans or horses-- arthropods with distance to cover just fly over it, because they weigh nothing, so flying is super easy. But if you muck around and change some of those evolutionary factors, how would the leg structure of (for example) a beetle change to accommodate them?

I’d imagine it would look strangely familiar. Legs straightening out, moving underneath the body, simplifying and strengthening the hinges, we’ve been here before. What’s new is that there’s more leg to work with. For walking efficiency at a larger size, I’d expect one of the pairs may reduce their role in locomotion, somewhat like the forelimbs in mantids or butterflies. If you’re aiming to make a bipedal bug, forelimb specialization is a good excuse to remove four of them from the ground. As for the legs on the ground, another familiar phenomenon may happen over time...

With similar motivation, mass would move away from the foot and towards the body in cursorial species just like for vertebrates. As for structure itself in the exoskeleton, I recommend looking at the larger arthropods of real life... terrestrial crustaceans like coconut crabs come to mind. For a truly huge arthropod, a mix of endoskeleton and exoskeleton and/or a water-dependent molt might be necessary to get away with the high body weight. As for posture, the world is your oyster! Humanoid or not, just make sure your handsome lad has a good center of balance!

That’s all folks!

PATREON | STORE  

[clairiere]

SFX interview with Pedro Pascal

The latest issue (Jan. 2021) of SFX magazine carries a 2-page interview, which took place after the S2 premiere (technically right after The Passenger). It’s pretty good, and insightful given what took place.

This Charming Mando

Shortly after the launch of the second episode of season two, SFX caught up with the Mandalorian himself, Pedro Pascal, speaking from Budapest.

words: Adam Tanswell

There are tons of fun and interesting ways that The Mandalorian ties into Star Wars canon. Are you aware of all the Easter eggs when you’re working on the show?

There’s plenty that are pointed out to me and there’s plenty that are obvious, but I think it would be impossible for me to remember them all. On top of the Easter eggs, what I love the most is the reference to very specific genres of cinema.

Can you give us an example of that from the second season?

For season two, the set of the second episode [“The Passenger”] was the first set that I walked on to. It was this shipwrecked Razor Crest on this snowy set, and I’d seen the illustrations of the spiders that were so incredible. The spiders hatching out of those eggs were right out of Alien. Working on the show fires off all of these references to me. And then, of course, there are the specific references to the Star Wars past as well. It’s impossible to keep up with everything, but it’s endlessly fascinating.

What did you enjoy the most about working on the first episode of season two, “The Marshal”?

Working with Timothy Olyphant and being on Tatooine with Jon Favreau was incredible. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this, but you wouldn’t believe the kind of rehearsal that the three of us had early on for that episode, in order to understand and block a sequence. You know the scene where we’re in the bar and then we step out to the main square of the town to see the Krayt Dragon? We had to rehearse it virtually first. We put on these mechanisms [VR headsets] with remote controls where we were literally able to be in a virtual world. We were actually able to rehearse it all before getting on the set. We were able to physically block the scene, which was crazy to me.

How would you describe the relationship between the Mandalorian and the Child in season two?

Through all of the action, adventure and special effects of the show, the core of it is this relationship between the Mandalorian and the Child. In spite of, and within, the largeness of it all, their story gets more intimate and deeper, which is the ultimate risk for somebody like the Mandalorian. It’s a huge risk to be vulnerable and to develop attachments, so it’s a very special relationship that we see unfold this year.

How does it feel to share the spotlight with the Child?

Honestly, it’s been an amazing experience because you get to witness a very, very unique show come to life. This isn’t my diplomatic answer; I mean this sincerely. To be part of a project like this is a unique experience for everyone, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to take the position as the central star because it’s not just me. There’s the Child and many, many others involved. There’s the incredible Industrial Light & Magic people, who have created this character of the Child that everyone has fallen in love with. Plus, there’s the production design team and every single department that’s involved in creating this experience, along with Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni, who are the ultimate parents of this show.

Talking of whom, what’s it like to work with Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni at the helm on a day to day basis?

The success of the show is because of their storytelling skills, as well as their fascination and their very, very, very pure love of Star Wars. It’s funny, because I have to figure out to the best of my abilities where I can contribute to achieve the success of it in every way. I saw images for the show when they were first talking to me about the project. Back then, I saw illustrations of the Child and it was the reason why I said yes to the project.

Have there been any changes to your iconic costume in season two to make it more comfortable for you?

The costume actually got a little heavier in season two. We ended the first season with him upgrading his armour. In order to have a more cinematic shine on the breastplate, it meant that some pieces were a little heavier than last year’s version

What are the themes and underlying messages of the second season that resonate with you the most?

These are very classic tales of good and evil, and how it all exists inside of us. It’s also about the journey towards the light, if that makes any sense. With my character specifically, I love that there’s this ruthless person whose physical identity is kept from the world around him – and possibly a psychological identity that’s kept from himself – but he starts to discover himself through this relationship with a vulnerable but very powerful creature. He follows his heart and does the right thing, no matter how it is against one’s practice or creed or what’s convenient. For me, that would be the prevailing message. It’s a much more intimate message than the broad strokes that can be painted onto the story as a whole. On a basic level, it’s about fighting for good.

It’s a huge deal to be such an iconic part of the Star Wars universe. Were you ready for the fame and attention that comes along with a project like this?

To be honest, I think it would be challenging for any human being. I’ve certainly been navigating how to honour being part of something as iconic as this to the best of my ability. It’s definitely a challenging, intimidating and exciting experience. It’s all of those things.

You play an iconic hero in The Mandalorian, but who were your heroes when you were growing up?

I had so many heroes. I would have to say my parents are my obvious heroes for ushering in the introduction of so many heroes, either through cinema or literature. And I continue to add more and more people to the list. As a child, Indiana Jones was definitely my personal hero. And as I got older, I remember the writer James Baldwin really, really influenced my mind and my life. I introduced myself to his writing when I was around 19 years old and he has definitely been a hero to me.

How does it feel to be a Star Wars hero?

I think it’s a beautiful thing because I can see the effect of a show like this on the children of my friends. It isn’t anything like I’ve experienced before. I love to see the look on their face if their parents tell them, “This is the Mandalorian”. There’s usually some confusion at first, because there isn’t a lot of association to this face as far as the role is concerned – but they seem to understand that somebody needs to be behind the mask. It’s somebody’s voice and it’s somebody’s limbs. It’s a magical feeling to see children’s eyes light up like that. If only I could carry around the Child everywhere, then I would really be winning!

Would definitely recommend buying the issue if you can, print or digital (via Zinio or any other platform), to show your support.

[agustdakasuga]

A Place Called Home | Chapter 5

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Throughout your week at home, Taehyung slowly settles back and Namjoon is recovering well as he gets more comfortable around the house. One day, he even defended you when someone threatened you. However, the happiness is broken when Taehyung accidentally brings up the past.

“Namjoon! Breakfast!” You called out the back door. The wolf hybrid looked up from his spot in the garden and nodded, removing his gloves and heading over. He wanted to help out in some way while staying with you so he did light chores like gardening. He was still uncomfortable around you but at least he wasn’t threatened by you anymore.

You plated everyone’s breakfast. All 4 hybrids that lived with you are ‘wild species’ so they mostly ate meat but you still had to make sure that they had some vegetables and fruits. 

“Watermelon!” Jin grinned and took a slice from the plate, chewing as he helped you take the utensils out from the drawer. 

“I’ll go wake Yoongi and Taehyung.” You said and Jin nodded as you washed your hands, heading upstairs. You went to Taehyung’s room first. He was, for some reason, sleeping upside down. 

“Taetae, wake up. Breakfast is ready.” You called softly. His head perked up first, slowly peeking open one eyes to look at you before dropping his head back onto the mattress. He let out a loud yawn, stretching his limbs as he groaned. 

“I’m awake, (y/n)...” He said, sitting up but spaced out. You ran your hand through his hair, pinching his cheeks lightly. 

“Go wash up and head down.” You chuckled. After leaving him, you went to Yoongi’s room. He in his recliner by the bay window under his heat lamp instead of laying on his bed. 

“Yoongi!” You laughed and jumped on him. 

“Oof!” He caught you in his arms before you could fall and hurt yourself. Dropping his head back, he let out a groan of annoyance as you snuggled with him. He kept his arms around you, let out a short huff, ready to fall back asleep with you. You lifted your head. 

“Yah. Don’t go back to sleep. I’m here to wake you up, not fall back asleep with you. I made breakfast today so you better show your appreciation by eating it.” You giggled. 

“Alright, kitten.” He pressed light kisses down your jaw. 

“That’s enough for now.” You pulled away before things could escalate. Grabbing Yoongi’s hand, you tried to pull him to stand up. He knew you couldn’t actually lift him but still gave you the benefit of the doubt by slowly standing up with his own strength. You pushed him to his washroom to wash up and left the room. 

“Kim Taehyung! You’re still in the position I left you.” You called out, seeing him sleeping in a sitting position. Hearing you call his full name, he quickly scrambled out of bed and went to the washroom. 

“Did you sleep well, Namjoon?” You asked as you slid into his seat. 

“Yes.” He looked up from his food. 

“Jinnie, I’ll go to the grocery store. Do you have a list of things you want me to pick up for you?” You smiled. 

“Here.” He handed it to you. Yoongi and Taehyung came down, taking their respective seats. You placed their plates in front of them and they gratefully dug in. Like every morning, you made them their drinks, adding on Namjoon’s regular hot black coffee. 

“Yoongi, could you help me add on more coffee to online order?” You asked and he nodded, taking his phone out. 

After breakfast, Taehyung and Namjoon did the dishes while you walked the two oldest to the door as they had to head to work. With hugs and kisses, they finally left. 

“I’m going to the store.” You announced to the two hybrids. 

“I wanna go! I’ll go get changed!” Taehyung grinned, dashing up to his room. You smiled and turned back to see the wolf hybrid standing there, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. It was as if he had something to say but just couldn’t find the words to tell it to you. You chuckled, knowing what he wanted to say. 

“We’re leaving in 10 minutes, Namjoon.” You sang and went to your own room to get ready. 

Luckily, you, Yoongi and Jin decided to rent a second van with more people in the house. If it proved to really be necessary, you agreed that you would buy a van for your family to use permanently. 

“Let’s go.” You grabbed the keys. Taehyung respectfully let Namjoon sit in the passenger seat while he sat at the back. As you drove, you cast Namjoon short glances every now and then. He looked peaceful, staring at the scenery outside the window. When you pulled up, the two boys followed you into the giant mega mart. 

“Can I get snacks, (y/n)?” Taehyung asked excitedly. 

“Knock yourself out.” You chuckled, beginning to scan through Jin’s list. Namjoon offered the push the cart for you. 

“Namjoon, you can get what you want to, you know?” You teased. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” You shrugged, placing the pasta sauce into the trolley. Only after Taehyung placed a few bags of his snacks into the cart, then did Namjoon put one bag of beef jerky in as well. You smiled to yourself, that was one small step in the right direction. 

“Move.” You turned around to see Namjoon being shoved forward by this lady. She frowned, almost giving Namjoon a look of disgust before reaching to get herself a pack of noodles. 

“Hey!” You called out and she turned to you. 

“You could have asked him to move nicely. There was no need for such hostility. I think you owe him an apology.” You crossed your arms. The lady looked at you as if you had gone insane. 

“Yah. Who do you think you’re talking to, little girl? No way am I apologising to an animal. He shouldn’t even be blocking the way. Next time, put him on a leash.” The lady scoffed and you balled your fists, feeling your nails dig into your palms. She smirked triumphantly, seeing you not retaliating. 

“It’s because of ignorant people like you that the world is a bad place to live in. Who are you to call them animals when you act worst than them? You should be the one on a leash, not them.” You growled. 

“Why you little!” She raised her hand and slapped you. In an instance, Namjoon and Taehyung were standing in front of you, growling. They bared their teeth, tails rigid. 

“How dare you lay a hand on her?” Taehyung’s voice was low.

“Leave now while you have the chance.” Namjoon warned as they stepped closer to the lady.

“T-This is insanity!” She backed away in fear and ran off. You sighed and shook your head. Namjoon growled at the onlookers, making them scurry away to mind their own business. Taehyung’s expression softened as he came next to you and caressed your red cheek lightly. He whimpered slightly, almost as if he was in pain as well. 

“She hurt you.” 

“It’s alright.” You smiled softly, placing your hand over his. But the two could smell how much guilt and sadness you were giving off. You felt bad that they still had to live in such an unfair society. 

“Let’s continue and go home, hmm?” You told them. Namjoon stared at your back. How could you come out of such an ordeal and act like nothing happened? He has never met a human like you before. You actually stood up to another human to protect him. You even asked that lady to apologise to him!

“Here.” You felt something cold press against your cheek as you sat on your couch. It made you jump slightly. 

“Thanks, Namjoon.” You blushed as you pressed the ice pack to your face. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” He mumbled. 

“Why do you say that? That lady was disrespecting you and that wasn’t right at all. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You sighed. 

“I don’t deserve that and you don’t have to apologise. You should have just left it. Hybrids like us, we’ll always be viewed as stains, creatures that weren’t meant to exist. It’ll be better for your sake if you just let them be.” Namjoon closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“Don’t say that. Namjoon, you’re no different than me or the next guy. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. You and every other hybrid has every right to be here and live your life.” You smiled. 

“You’re very stubborn.” 

“So I’ve been told.” You grinned, remembering how Yoongi would always remind you of your stubbornness. 

“Look, Namjoon. I became a doctor to save hybrids because I think they should have every privilege any human has. They deserve just as much love and attention. I spend every waking moment trying to make the world a better place for hybrids to live in. You, Taehyung, Yoongi, Jin and all the hybrids out there are worth fighting for. If I get hurt doing it, so be it.” You shrugged. 

“Thank you.” Namjoon said. 

“You’re welcome!” You grinned. You patted his head and got up to go get dinner ready. Looking at the stocked fridge, you made some stir fried pork belly and mixed noodles. 

“I’m going to shower!” You said once the food was done. You went upstairs to take quick rinse. When you came out, Taehyung was waiting for you with a smile. You stroked his head. One of the sleeves of your shirt slipped down and he saw 3 long jagged marks on the front of your shoulder. 

“That.” He said and you looked down to where he was staring at, quickly pulling the sleeve up.

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head.

“You were attacked by a hybrid.” Taehyung wasn’t going to let the topic go. He felt immense affection for you and even if there were only light scars left, he felt a slow anger boiling within him.

“Just forget it, Taehyung. Let’s go have dinner.” You said. Taehyung frowned, not wanting to let it go. He followed you downstairs, where the other three were seated, waiting for the two of you. Yoongi and Jin were still in their work clothes. They all grabbed their plates and began to scoop their portions onto it.

“(y/n), why can’t you tell me about those scars?” Taehyung asked and you froze. A cold silence took over the room as your eyes raised slightly to look at Yoongi.

“Yoon-”

SLAM!

He stood back with so much force that the chair fell onto the ground, making you flinch. He stormed upstairs and you heard the door slamming shut. You closed your eyes with a sigh. You couldn’t blame Taehyung as well, knowing he was just curious and worried for you.

“Jin...”

“Already on it.” The boy slid out of his seat and walked to find Yoongi. You sat down beside Taehyung.

“Tae, I know you’re curious and worried but there’s a reason I didn’t want to bring it up. It’s... a sensitive topic for both Yoongi and me. When Yoongi first woke up from his coma, he was very guarded. He had been hurt by humans and was afraid. I pushed his boundaries and he had every right to defend himself. I never blamed him but he blames himself.” You explained.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t know.”

“I know, baby. It’s just hard for Yoongi. He lives with the guilt despite my reassurance. That’s why we never bring it up.” You patted his head. He nodded sadly and you squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll go see how Yoongi is.” You stood up and left. You knocked on the door and Jin opened the door. Smiling a little, Jin stepped aside for you to go into the room. He stayed by the doorway to watch you. You entered Yoongi’s room to find him sitting in a corner, balled up and sniffling.

“Yoongs.” You called softly.

“Go away.” Yoongi mumbled softly. You refused to leave him and began to walk closer to him. 

“Yoong-”

“I SAID GO AWAY! OR DO YOU WANT ME TO HURT YOU AGAIN?” Yoongi lunged forward to swipe at you but thanks to Jin’s quick reflexes, the fox was able to pull you back before you could get hurt. You stood there, frozen, stunned by Yoongi’s actions. Jin growls warningly as Yoongi backed away, sitting back down in the dark corner of his room. 

“Let’s go.” Jin held your hand and led you out of there. You were still in shock, your legs giving way as you fell to the ground, Jin setting you down softly. 

“Jagi? Are you hurt?” Jin asked. You shook your head. The only hurt you felt was in your heart. You quickly scrambled to your feet and ran into your room, slamming your door shut.

You were almost scared. There was so much animosity in Yoongi’s eyes, like he was really telling you to back away. And yet, you could also see the fear and vulnerability in them. You just wanted to hug him. 

“(y/n)...” Taehyung whimpered by your door, sitting on the ground. His ears were folded down and his tail lay limply by his side. He too, started to cry softly, thinking it’s his fault for causing all of this. He pawed at your door gently but you didn’t come to open it for him. 

“Come on, Tae.” Namjoon said. 

“No...” Taehyung shook his head. Namjoon sighed and retreated to his room to turn in for the night. He was only a guest here, he couldn’t do anything. 

“Tae tae, let’s let (y/n) have some space, alright?” Jin crouched down next to the crying tiger. 

“Hyung... (y/n)... It’s all my fault.” Taehyung cried. 

“It’s not, sweetie. No one blames you. But now, (y/n) just needs some time alone to think, alright? Let’s not force her and stress her out even more.” Jin persuaded. Taehyung looked at your door again before standing up and following Jin. Jin tucked Taehyung into bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead before retreating to his own room. 

No one really had the right to say anything. This was purely between you and Yoongi. This incident happened even before Jin came so he couldn’t do much either. 

Through the night, Taehyung had somehow found his way back to your door step curling up right by the wood with only a pillow tucked under his head. Yoongi woke up earlier, not wanting to bump into you, when he saw Taehyung.

“This kid...” Yoongi clicked his tongue, taking a blanket and draping it over Taehyung’s sleeping form before adjusting his cap and leaving. 

“Tae?” You almost tripped over the tiger as you were coming out of your room. Why was he sleeping outside your door? You shook him lightly and he slowly opened his eyes, still half asleep. Holding his hand, you led him back to his room and tucked him back into bed. 

“Good morning.” Namjoon greeted you first when you closed Taehyung’s door behind you. 

“Morning.” You forced a smile. Your eyes trailed to Yoongi’s door. 

“He left early. His scent is faint.” Namjoon informed and you nodded your head stiffly. You went to clear the pillow and blanket by your door. The pillow was definitely Taehyung’s but you knew the blanket was Yoongi’s. He had specifically requested for this fluffy, black blanket at the store you were at. 

“Jagi?” Jin’s voice broke your train of thought. 

“Huh? Oh, morning Jinnie.” You turned your cheek to let him give you a peck. Quickly, you folded Yoongi’s blanket neatly. 

“Could you help me put this in Yoongi’s room? I’ll go get started on breakfast. Taehyung is still asleep.” You requested. He nodded, taking the folded material from you. You went downstairs to see Namjoon making the respective drinks. 

“Here.” He handed your mug to you. 

BEEP BEEP

You took your hospital beeper from your pocket and frowned when you read Code Orange. Although your shift wasn’t supposed to start for the next 2 hours, it seemed that there was an emergency that needed you to head down early. Code Orange meant that there was an external emergency and it was all hands on deck. 

“Jin? It’s Code Orange, I have to go. Can you fix breakfast please?” You asked the fox as he was coming down the stairs.

“Yeah, don’t worry about us. You better go. Good luck, stay safe.” Jin said as you ran upstairs to get changed and grabbed your bag. Jin and Yoongi made it a point to also remember all the colour codes for your hospital. 

You drove to the hospital, seeing all the ambulances pull up. Scanning your ID, you wore your coat and headed down to the emergency ward. Even the hospital director was there. 

“There was a big fire caused by arson in a shelter. We’re taking a bigger portion of patients since we’re the bigger hospital in the area. Team A, take priority patients. Team B, second tier and Team C, take care of superficial injuries. Team D will help categorise the patients that are already here. Team S, we’re going to the heli pad. Lower teams, prepare to assist if necessary.” The director said. 

“Yes, director!” Everyone got ready. You were a part of Team A. Team S were five of the most senior doctors of the hospital. The moment gurneys were wheeled in, everyone split. 

“Doctor, we are going to get as many blood bags as we can for the blood bank. Shall we also call donors if there isn’t enough?” The head nurse asked. 

“Yes, allocate a corner for transfusions. Call our list of donors to come down if they can.” You nodded. 

“We’re going to ER 3.” You helped the nurses wheel the first patient in. 

--

“Today, a shelter was set on fire. Police investigations-”

You drowned out the sound that was playing on the television, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground. Closing your eyes, you sighed and ripped the mask off your face. You sat in the quiet hallway outside the operating theatres, finally feeling some peace from the hectic day. 

“Good job today.” A can of coffee appeared in front of you. 

“Sunbae... Thanks. You did good too.” You smiled softly, receiving the can of cold coffee. She smiled and sat down next to you, drinking from her own can. 

“How was your side?” You asked.

“We lost 2. They didn’t even make it to the table.” She informed with a sigh. Dr Yu was also part of Team A, with you but you had to operate at different ends of the hospital. Your side lost 2 hybrids as well. Usually, you would just want to go home and hug your own hybrids, let Jin and Yoongi comfort you. But Yoongi didn’t even want to look at you now. 

“You should go home and rest. I’m going to head home too.” She stood up, stretching her arms. You nodded and gave her a hug before parting ways. Getting in your car, you headed home. But you didn’t enter the house. 

“Is (y/n) back? I smell her.” Taehyung asked. He was worried sick. It was 2 am and there had been no call from you. 

“She’s in the backyard. But I think it’s best to leave her alone for now.” Namjoon said. He smelled you and they could all smell the blood on you.

“Yeah, I saw the news.” Jin nodded, staring out the glass door. He saw you sitting on the ground, your back to them. In front of you, there were lighted candles. You didn’t exactly know how many casualties there were but you just lit 10 big candles for all of them. 

“May your souls find peace in the afterlife.” You whispered as you clasped your hands together. 

“(y/n)?” You turned to see Jin standing there. 

“Hey, Jinnie.” You smiled softly. 

“May I?” He asked. You nodded, patting the space beside you. He plopped down in the spot, being careful not to hit any of the candles. Jin closed his eyes and put his hands together to say a small prayer as well. He was there to mainly act as a form of support if you needed it like always, just that this time, Yoongi wasn’t on your other side. 

“You did good.” He comforted. 

“But was it good enough?” You sighed, looking up. 

“Hey, you did your best. It’s a hard pill to swallow but you can’t save everyone. Some times, it’s better to let them go rather than them being in pain here.” Jin spoke and you agreed. 

“I just hope they catch whoever did it. That would be the best form of justice.” You said. 

“Did you manage to get anything to eat?” Jin asked. 

“No, I’m too tired. I might just head to bed. Did... Yoongi come home yet?” You asked back and Jin nodded. He could smell your emotions, you were giving off such negative emotions and it made him sad too. Helping you stand up, Jin blew off the candles and walked you back in. 

“I’m going to bed.” You smiled tiredly and went to your room, shutting the door. Jumping into the shower, you scrubbed yourself clean of all the sweat and blood. When you came out, there was a knock on your door. 

“Namjoon? Is something wrong?” You asked when the wolf poked his head in. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Just... are you okay?” You were taken aback by Namjoon’s question. Was he concerned about you? 

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just been such a hectic day that my mind is a little frazzled. But I’ll be okay. Sorry, for what happened last night. You’re our guest and that wasn’t very nice of us. I should have handled it.” You shook your head. Namjoon softened, you were taking all the blame on yourself. 

“Don’t apologise. None of it was your fault.” He daringly reached forward to cup your cheek. 

“Thank you. But I shouldn’t have provoked Yoongi, causing him to lash out. I didn’t respect his space.” You chuckled. 

“You should sleep. Goodnight.” Namjoon said. 

“Goodnight, Namjoon.” You smiled and walked him to the door. He left, retreating to his own room while you got under the covers. The lack of sleep from the night before and the exhaustion from the long day was catching up to you. Your eyes fluttered shut the moment your head had touched the pillow. 

[rose7420]

It All Works Out In The End

A request from @laurenandloki!

Loki is trying to be a better human from the guidance of Tom Hiddleston and he messes up when he finds a borrower.

“I have to leave for a few hours, please don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Tom informed Loki. Loki looked up from his novel, his long-form curled comfortably on the couch in the living room. He only spared Tom a glance in his general direction before focusing on the bland words of the page. Truly the book wasn’t worth his attention, yet, neither was Tom. Tom grabbed his backpack, dressed casually in dark jeans and a navy blue shirt, and closed the door behind him. He was neither impressed nor disappointed in Loki’s progress at becoming a “better” person. As long as he didn’t commit any serious crimes he would be relieved.

Loki closed the book when Tom left. He stood and ambled aimlessly around the large apartment. It was a good size living space, not comparable to that of Asgard but still admirable. His steps echoed on the hardwood floor as he arrived in the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, looking for what the mortals called ‘strawberries.’ He had taken a liking to the sweet fruit after he had tried it out of curiosity one day. They hadn’t had any type of treat like that on Asgard.

While searching, he heard a small noise come from beside him as he hunted the second shelf. He put back the carton of milk he held and shut the door. His eyes searched the counter. He heard another sound, which was easier to make out now. He could now tell it was some sort of squeak. His gaze flicked to the jar on the end of the counter. Slowly, he approached and slid the jar over revealing a very tiny creature. It was humanoid and appeared to be female by the curve of her waist and long hair. As he took away her barrier she whipped around and let out another squeak. This time it was fearful as her head craned back to look at his face. He couldn’t make out her face and ached for a closer look, he instinctively reached for her. She backed up as far as she could, stopping when she reached the edge of the counter. He knew she was cornered and had nowhere else to go. That drop would certainly kill her should she jump. He smirked as he knew he had won this short chase and wrapped his fingers around her capturing her in his fist.

She struggled, twisting to escape his hold but it was futile. He was much stronger and bigger. He opened his hand letting her breathe for a few seconds in an open palm, sensing her trembling form as she was on hands and knees. After, letting her believe she was free for a moment, he closed his fingers over her entirely, marveling at the fact that he could no longer see her. He felt her tiny fists hit the inside of his curled fingers as he walked to the dining table set in the middle of the kitchen. He opened his fist and let her fall the short drop to the table, hearing her squeak as she hit the hard surface. He lowered his head onto his arms to see her better, watching as she raised herself to a sitting position.

“Aren’t you a little thing?” He teased, reaching out to pinch her thin arm. He twisted it carefully, minding the fragility of her tendons and joints. Despite his gentleness, she whimpered, attempting to tug her limb out of his pinched grip. He loosened his grip, allowing her to think she’d won this match. Her small victory gave her the courage to stand in hopes of running away. With a single finger, he pushed her chest and forced her to fall back onto the tabletop. He was unaware that he had caused all the breath to leave her lungs as he picked her up by the middle with a pinched forefinger and thumb. Another cry escaped her from the sudden elevation. He pinched her jaw to keep her head still trying to gain a better look. Tears escaped her eyes but he paid no attention to that. Releasing his hold he prodded at her form. His finger aimed for her cheek but he accidentally poked her nose. A simple prod to him, but a full punch in the face to her. Her nose leaked blood, dripping from her chin to her shirt. And right at that time the front door opened.

“I’m back, didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Tom shouted, Loki heard him drop his keys in the dish on top of the table in the hallway. Loki looked down at the tiny girl struck by the blood on her shirt his fingers reaching for her. She cried in horror and pushed his fingers away, tears streaming down her face. His heart rate elevated and he lifted her to his face to examine where the blood was coming from.

“What is that?” Tom exclaimed from behind him. Loki felt him lean in closer and flinched at his voice right next to his ear.

“Why is she crying, and bleeding?” Tom asked worriedly, then looked at Loki suspiciously.

“What did you do?” He questioned. For once Loki was at a loss for words. He truly had meant for no harm to come to the tiny being, he only wanted to tease her a little. She had done nothing to him, and he had scared her immensely and hurt her in the process.

“Give her here Loki,” Tom ordered, holding out a raised palm. Loki did as he asked and watched as the little lady backed away in fear from the new giant. She whimpered audibly and cried loudly when she hit Tom’s curled fingers.

“Shh, you are in no danger here Little One,” Tom coed and reassured. He tentatively rubbed a finger upon her back when she did not flinch away. Tom walked to the counter and went to set her down, but she clung tightly to his finger and wouldn’t let go.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back. I just need to set you down here.” She shook her head and held steady.

“Alright, I think I can manage with one hand.” Tom kept his voice low and soft as if speaking to a child. He tore a piece of paper towel off and wet it under a stream of water. He handed off the damp towel to the girl.

“Here you go, use this to stop that nose bleed. Make sure to keep your head down and pinch the bridge of your nose. There you go, great job.” He rubbed her back again and looked up from his palm to Loki who stood a few steps away. His face was sad, downturned to the floor, and sneaking glances at Tom’s hand every other minute. Tom knew he felt guilty and was disappointed in him but not angry.

After her nose had stopped bleeding the girl looked up at Tom. He raised her to his eye level so she wouldn’t have to strain her neck. He instantly noticed the bruises on her arms, legs, and one dark one on her cheek.

“Were those bruises there before?” Tom asked.

She shook her head, eyes glistening with fresh unshed tears.

“I’m so terribly sorry Little One.” He apologized but also realized he had no idea what her name was. So he asked for it.

“I-It’s Y/N.” She said meekly. Tom nodded, “My name is Tom, and that’s Loki.” He gestured to the moody god. Loki walked closer, keeping his steps light, attempting to make himself less menacing.

He felt utterly terrible. He had hurt her, made her bleed, marked her skin, and caused her to cry. Standing beside Tom he cleared his throat nervous to speak. He watched Y/N back away from his imposing frame and huddle next to Tom’s thumb. She clung to it like a lifeline, terrified of Loki himself. He imagined if it was quiet enough he could hear her tiny heart pounding in her chest.

“I would like to apologize for my actions earlier. And the harm that I caused you.” Loki wasn’t very familiar with apologizing and the words were awkward, but he deemed them necessary. Y/N said nothing, practically ignoring him, only clinging to Tom’s digit. He walked away, back to his room to clear his head.

Tom had found out that Y/N had lived in his house for years. And he hadn’t even noticed. She was looking for food today and had been trying to get the lid off the jar when Loki had found her. Tom had cooked a nice, hot dinner for them to eat especially after finding out she had never had a hot meal. He had managed to calm her down enough to sit on the counter while he cooked, being extra careful to not knock her down in the midst of the process of cooking. Tom had called for Loki to come to eat but Loki ignored him, locking himself away in his room. He sighed in frustration but made sure to not think too much about it, afraid Y/N would think he was mad at her. The poor thing had been through enough already today.

After eating, Y/N was happily full. Tom let her sit on his shoulder as he cleaned up and talked to her like an old pal. He went into the living room and turned on the television.Y/N had never seen the moving screen up close, and was mesmerized by all the colors and sounds.

“Do you want to watch a movie, Y/N?” Tom asked.

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. Tom laughed from her excitement and set her on the coffee table promising he’d be back soon. After a few moments, he returned with Loki. Their footsteps were hard to miss and vibrated the ground beneath her. She stared up in fear at Loki, backing away from his presence.

“Loki has promised not to touch you, Y/N. Isn’t that right Loki?” Tom explained. Loki grunted his agreeance. Scooping Y/N off the table, Tom let her settle on his shoulder. He scrolled through a bunch of different pictures and settled on one that looked scary. Tom asked if it was okay and she hesitated. Y/N didn’t really like being scared on purpose but she felt like a wimp after today and how pathetic she was with Loki. So she said yes.

A few minutes into the movie she knew she was completely screwed. Five people had already been brutally murdered and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. She huddled closer to Tom’s neck and buried her face into the warm skin trying to shield her eyes from the screen. He assumed that she was cold and raised a hand to blanket her with.

“Is she alright?” A deep voice asked, Loki’s voice.

“I think she’s cold,” Tom explained.

A second later Tom was handing her a woolen blanket of her own size.

“H-How?” She asked astonished.

She looked over at Loki who winked and settled his back against the cushion wordlessly.

“Hey Y/N I need to go switch out my laundry so I need to put you down. Don’t worry Loki won’t mess with you.” He assured her and plucked her up effortlessly blanket and all setting her upon the middle cushion on the couch.

She looked up at Loki who had his eyes trained on the screen, paying her no attention. She copied his action and regretted looking at the screen at all when a particularly gory scene happened. She whimpered quietly, not noticing how Loki looked down at her worriedly. A loud scream broke through the silence frightening her out of her wits. She dropped the blanket around her shoulders and ran to Loki’s lap. She stayed close to the outside of his thigh and attempted to climb the fabric. Loki looked down at the ticklish sensation and saw the cause. He slowly reached down and boosted her onto his lap letting her rest upon his thigh. She scooted backward burying herself in the bunched-up fabric of his shirt and nestled herself in the soft cloth.

“Are you scared Little Miss?” He asked, feeling the nod of affirmation against his abdomen. He reached over and picked up her blanket and draped it over her dainty shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hand, so he cupped it around her serving as a barrier from the screen and her sight.

“I’ve got you. Nothing can hurt you now. You’re fine.” Loki repeated, calming her. Soon her breathing slowed and she stopped trembling. He peeled his hand back to view her sleeping form curled into his shirt. Loki smiled with relief as he realized she no longer viewed him as a bad guy.

Tom stood in the corner smiling as he realized his plan had worked perfectly. KnowingY/N didn’t like scary movies, got cold easily, and leaving at the right time. The only thing that had gone wrong was how long it had taken Y/N to seek Loki out for comfort.

[lunarreaper-ut]

How exactly did killer loose his arm? Was it cuz he got distracted or was it tactic to prevent something even worse?? ;-; how did nightmate take that sight? How did he get the idea to give killer some of his magic to make an artificial arm for him, did he knew it would work? Was it a hard or painful process for any of them?? (God i love the idea of killer getting a shadow arm from nm >w< makes him even cooler! Kyaaaaa~ still a sad thing tho uwu)

Was nightmare ever in the mood/need/curious to ask killer sing somehing (for him~)??

What ships will happen in kingdomverse??

Alsoo... Uhh dont know if thats an OK question but can they get pregnant? I wanna know if babybones are an possibility in the future? qwq

Ah yes... the Incident.

Allow me to explain the unfortunate event in which Killer almost failed at his job.

(This is gonna be heckin, and I mean HECKIN long. We got some worldbuilding ahead!)

How did Killer lose his arm?

This event happened several years after Killer began his duties as Royal Guard. Dream had already told Nightmare he no longer needed a Royal Guard, and Killer already expressed his wish to stay as one. Nightmare and Killer were frequently having their nightly visits, and things were going well.

One night, however, after Killer had returned to his room and the two had settled in for bed, something happened.

Now I haven't mentioned this before, mainly cause your questions have thankfully not uncovered it >w< During Nightmare's reign, there was much despair in the Kingdom. Negativity brings out the worst in people, as we're all aware I'm sure, and it's no wonder that some people would be driven mad by the results of Nightmare's actions.

Some people began to believe that if they worshipped Nightmare, they would be spared from his wrath and from the destruction his crafted creatures wrought. These people formed a cult dedicated to Nightmare, praising his actions and renouncing their loyalty to the Sun King. They called themselves The Corrupted.

Cults are a very hard thing to get rid of, especially if you weren't aware they existed. When Dream returned and cast Nightmare into the Void, the Corrupted hid themselves in the shadows, vowing to return only once their "True King" returns as well.

The issue arose when Nightmare did return from the Void. Nightmare, throughout his reign, was most often seen as his "transformed" self, and it was that self that The Corrupted worshipped, not Nightmare.

The Corrupted believed that they could bring back the "True King", and to do so they needed to remove the "Imposter King". The cult spent time learning the routines of the castle in order to break in to Nightmare's quarters when they were certain no one was around.

They had acquired a drug meant to incapacitate monsters and suppress their magic, and modified it to be several times as strong. Nightmare certainly wasn't at his strongest either, the Kingdom was a naturally positive place when Dream was around.

A few cult assassins threw a smoke bomb filled with the drug into Nightmare's room while he slept, and unfortunately it worked well enough. Nightmare wasn't unconscious, but he didn't have as fine of control over his magic or his own body.

The assassins came into the room, intending to kidnap Nightmare, but it's rather fortunate that Killer is a light sleeper, isn't it? Killer came into the room just as one of the assassins was about to grab Nightmare.

There was quite a few of them, as they'd been prepared for resistance, and though I hate to say it, they were skilled too. They weren't just some guy picked off the street and given a weapon, it was as if they'd been trained for years just for this moment.

It's likely they had been. Killer was having difficulties, but holding his own well enough. He would only really need to hold them off long enough for the guards to get to the room. Well, that's what he thought until he saw another assassin coming towards a practically immobile Nightmare, and he clearly wasn't intending to just kidnap the King.

Killer moved without thinking, and without his armor he was much more vulnerable to attacks... but getting injured wasn't an issue. He had to protect Nightmare at all costs, even if it meant he got hurt. That was the moment he lost his arm.

Killer didn't have time to register the pain, and slew the assassin who dared attempt to harm Nightmare. Killer was outnumbered still, and if he was having difficulties before, it was going to be impossible to hold out now.

He was lucky he didn't have to though, as several Guardsmen burst into the room. Seems they'd finally heard the commotion. The Guardsmen drove out the assassins, only managing to capture two. Killer was tended to, and he refused to leave Nightmare's side until the drug wore off.

How did Nightmare handle it?

Nightmare was half conscious in the moment, and so most of what he saw didn't register properly. It was only when the drug had worn off and he saw Killer by his side, sans one arm (Hehe), that it hit him.

Nightmare was angry first and foremost. He was angry it happened, angry Killer was dumb enough to get hurt, angry he wasn't able to resist the stupid drug, and angry that Killer seemed completely unbothered.

Nightmare didn't react well at all, and he ended up putting Killer on temporary leave. When Killer tried to refuse Nightmare said he was useless with only one arm, and Nightmare didn't need a useless Guard. Killer shut up pretty quickly.

Killer was still allowed to stay at the castle of course, but he was forbidden from coming near Nightmare's office, or taking part in any Guard duties. Nightmare believed that what happened was the stupidest thing Killer could have done, and refused to think otherwise.

It was during Killer's leave that Nightmare did research. He interrogated the cult members, and utilized glamours (Which we all know he's not fond of) in order to leave the castle without issue. Throughout his research, he spoke with the Court Apothecary regularly about Killer's injury. How was he fairing, is he at risk of dusting, is there anything to be done, stuff like that.

The Apothecary had made an offhanded comment that Killer is going to be without his arm for the rest of his life, since skeletons don't regenerate. Not unless he got enough magic to replace the missing arm at least.

He mentioned just getting a prosthetic for Killer, but that went in one ear and out the other, so to speak. Nightmare began to think about the suggestion (even though it was a joke). Nightmare had a large surplus of magic, and he thought about whether or not it was possible to somehow weave his magic with Killer's and form a new limb.

By the time Killer had returned to Nightmare, asking to return to his duties, the King had already figured out a way to properly do the procedure. He of course asked Killer if he would be allowed to do so, that he wasn't certain if it would work and that it certainly wouldn't be pretty.

Killer agreed without issue. The process was indeed a painful one... fusing Nightmare's magic with Killer's was difficult, and it was akin to taking a freezing cold needle and sewing a constantly shifting mass of energy directly to his soul. (Not actually how it worked, it's just how it felt).

The only reason Killer got through the procedure was because of Nightmare's intent. We all know that intent comes through to Monsters when involving magic, and Nightmare's intent made the process a lot less painful. Heal, fix, help, care, all those things came through to Killer.

It helped that Nightmare had a good relationship with Killer. His magic was much more willing to accept Killer's and vice versa. If this had been done between Nightmare and a stranger, it wouldn't have worked.

It took Killer a few days to work the arm properly. It was almost dead weight for a while. After that, it took even longer for him to properly fight with it, and longer still for him to be able to utilize the magic it was made with.

Has Nightmare ever asked Killer to sing for him?

Nope, Nightmare doesn't even know Killer can or that he has a good voice XD Killer has never sung in front of anyone, nor does he care to. It's just not something he does, but I imagine there could be a few scenarios where he gets coerced into it. Singing with friends, soothing a wounded animal (Yes Killer would do that, he likes small animals. They're cute.), that kind of stuff.

Nightmare's never had a reason to think Killer could sing. >w<

What Ships are going to be canon in Kingdomverse?

Well we've already got Cream, Killermare and Afterdeath as being confirmed.

Honestly I've kinda decided to leave the others more open for interpretation! If you want, you can say Errink is gonna happen, Lust could probably be someones s/o, it's all up to interpretation >w<

Theres quite the cast of characters in Kingdomverse?, and there might be more added later (if I can think of them), so honestly I'm sure there's no issue with some other ships coming to life!

Basically theres no other planned canon ships >w<

Can the skellies get preggers?

I don't see why not! Nightmare and Dream being immortals doesn't stop them from having kids, but I would say that if they did it would probably be through a different process than mortals.

I'd say that monsters need to make the conscious, or unconscious decision that they want a child or that they are ready for a child before they can have one.

Nightmare and Dream would probably be a bit difficult to have a child with purely because they have an immense amount of power and magic (even after a bond), so it might be a bit risky even for them to have kids.

(if any of you do make ship kids I want to see them though, I love baby bones >w<)

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO,  “Post Apocalyptic Utopia.”

I was actually able to write something today, which I didn’t expect. So I hope you all enjoy!” 

A small delegation of Vrul scientists were waiting for them when the shuttle landed. Dr. krill looked around the city and noted the increased security from the last time he had been here, though that had been almost a year ago, so he couldn’t have said if that was a recent development or not. Behind him, Admiral Vir, Doctor Katie, and their resident microbiologist stepped out of the shuttle, followed closely by their select group of marines.

The marines had been ordered to keep a close eye on Krill, as it was a well known fact that the Vrul council had put a termination order on his head. They had said the termination order had been dissolved, but to say that he didn’t exactly trust their word, was a bit of an understatement.

Admiral Vir stayed close at his shoulder eyeing up anyone who got to close.

They had brought the marines for a reason, but a single human would have been enough to scare of the Vrul if they were to try, and Admiral Vir, as important as he was in intergalactic government, was even more of a deterrent.

They were met a few feet later by the council members, no one that Krill recognized, so they must have been council assistants.

“Dr. Krill, we were not sure you would answer our call.”

“Is that because of the termination order on my head, or because the Vrul council seems to have a disdain for my work?”

They stepped back a little shying away from his bluntness, but he stood his ground. Perhaps it was a little mean to behave so human-like in front of them, but he had to admit, it gave him no end of pleasure to see the squirm, all except for one.

One of the Vrul scuttled forward and his movements were familiar.

Together both Krill and the Admiral recognized him as the psychologist who had stood up for krill the last time he had brought in on a termination evaluation.

‘I am pleased to see you have answered our call Dr. krill, I was worried the past issues with the council might drive you away.” he looked up and raised a hand to the human, “As well as you Admiral, I am always pleased to see the man who saved my life.”

The admiral saluted, “The pleasure is all ours.”

Krill nodded pleased to see at least one sensible Vrul in this entire place, “I am sure we are all very happy to see one another, but I doubt you would ave called us here for a simple visit?”

The psychologist nodded his head, “Yes, yes of course. Please follow me.”

They did as ordered, the humans sauntering along behind them as the Vrul walked and talked. Around them, the city was surprisingly deserted with few workers and even fewer pedestrians. 

“Something strange has happened, something we are not sure what to make of.” 

They turned a corner down the middle streat, heading towards the outskirts of the city.

“The morning before last, a…. Minor beta geologist by the name of Dr. Kell was allowed permission outside the city walls.”

“Beta scientist?” Dr Krill wondered 

“He was one of those hard cases. His original tests showed promise, but it was later determined that he was closer to a beta than an alpha, though the council let him keep his teaching position at the institute as long as it was only the entry level classes, regardless, that is not the point. The point is, he was allowed outside the city on request to study surrounding soil samples. He was gone for maybe two or three hours before returning, dazed and catatonic. His helium sack had been ruptured, and shortly after being contained within an isolation chamber, he began to develop large yellow soars across his body. Those who came in close contact with him, including myself, have been put into isolation for a days duration, longer than it took for him to be infected.” 

They stepped onto a small elevating platform which rose them high into the air along the wall. There were no rails, as Vrul didn’t fear falling, butthe humans clustered at the center to avoid the drop.

They made it to the top of the wall and were motioned over by the psychologist to peer over the edge.

“That of course is not even mentioning these creatures.”

Together they looked over the edge of the wall. The humans muttered in surprise, and Krill Felt his antenna vibrate slightly in unease and burgeoning horror. The creatures below him looked awful like deltas, with their six limbs and thickened bodies, but the way they moved was just so rong. They clambered over each other hauling themselves up against the wall as if they were trying to climb it.

There were no more than seven of them in total and their eyes glowed a glassy white. All over their bodies, he could just make out the sickly yellow pustules. One of the creatures attempted to climb over his brethren, and in so doing stepped on one of the bulging sacks causing it to rupture and spew a thick spray of a pollen like substance. The cloud expanded shortly but was too thick to spread properly and slowly dropped to the ground coating the others in the layer of yellow.

The human grimaced, “Do you smell that?”

The Vrul looked up at him in surprise, “You smell something.”

All the humans nodded. Adam shook his head and sneezed rather violently taking a step back from the edge before wiping his face, “Smells like…. I don’t even know how to describe it, organic but…. rotting .”

Ramirez peered over the edge, “Tree zombies.”

The little vrul psychologist looked up at them, “What is a zombie?’

Krill sighed, “here we go.”

“Its an old legend or folktale I guess. There have been a lot of iterations of it over the centuries, but the general idea is that some kind of virus infects a human and the symptoms cause them to become aggressive and violent. A bite causes them to spread the Virus, and so they become cannibalistic. The disease rapidly spreads through population centers and the entire world shuts down in an apocalyptic event while small pockets of humans attempt to survive. Of course, its not exactly scientifically possible with the diseases we know of, but.” Adam glanced back over the wall, “Obviously not the same thing, but…. A similar principal I suppose. Twenty bucks says that those sores are what make it contagious.”

Krill nodded slowly, “it would make sense why none of you who came in contact with Dr. kell were ever infected, because you were never exposed to the pathogen. I am assuming he was not showing signs of those yellow pustules by the time he showed up?”

The psychologist nodded. “No, he developed those late last night and is still under observation. That happened about the same time he started showing signs of aggression towards the staff.”

“Let me see the patient.” krill said and the psychologist nodded, motioning them forward and back down the wall to where they were keeping their observation room.

It had been set up away and secured from the other buildings, and as they walked in most everyone was dressed in hazmat equipment.

They were brought forward, to an outside observation room where they could see through two sets of thick paned glass to where dr Kell, or who they supposed used to be Dr, Kell, paced around the room scuttling this way and that towards anyone who moved outside of his enclosure. The entire inside of the room was coated in a delicate layer of yellow pollen.”

Krill ordered someone to give him a hazmat suit and he hurried into the crowd to take a look for himself.

Dr, Katie was able to bring her hazmat equipment from the ship and followed after him, walking around with Krill as they examined the subject.

Adam didn’t know much about Vrul related illnesses, but he still found the behavior of the vrul inside the enclosure to be rather unsettling.

He walked around the outside examining the creature as Dr. krill and Katie spoke with each other.

He tapped his fingers against his arms nervously. This was very strange as far as he knew no vrul had lived outside their cities in centuries if not millennia. So how could there be infection outside of the city…. Of course…. That was unless…

A sudden scuttling could be heard outside the door, and he turned around to watch as a small alpha Vrul stepped into the room. It hurried forward and stood at the edge of he room looking unsure and nervous. On occasion it glanced over at him with a wary expression, to the point where he thought it was going to get whiplash.

He nodded, “Do you need something?”

It jumped as he spoke clutching some files on its chest, “i uh… uh I wanted to speak with the doctors about…. About something I found.”

Obviously Vrul only had one gender, but there was just something about it that made him think female, so he went with it.

Usually Vrul chose based on convenience when working with species of more than one gender, but until she said otherwise she was going to have to do.

“You can tell me.”

She looked up at him with a skeptical expression.

Most vrul had a sense of intellectual superiority when it came to other species. It made them insufferable sometimes as humans had IQs closer to their betas than their alphas. Difference was your average human could handle abstract concepts where a beta could not. Though the vrul tended to forget this.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, “I think I can keep up, just humor me.”

She looked at him long and hard for a moment before moving closer, “I am Dr. Vess, head historian at the Vrul institute here in the city, and I have been examining some ancient documents which I think might shed some light on what is happening here.” She paused.

He nodded for her to go on.

“About four thousand years ago, there is a sudden drought of historical documentation. We don’t know much of what happened before then. We think before that time we had light travel expeditions to other planets which gave us the shoot-off species, the Gibb, but there is no historical information to back this theory. I did, however, find architectural blueprints for the wall. The most dangerous predator on our planet is only ten feet tall and can only jump two feet, but our wall is forty feet high and twenty feet thick with no doors. This is also the time when we began to develop our force field technology, which is why we are so ahead of the times. The force field that can surround this city goes as a dome into the air, and even penetrates underground. Based on everything we know, the structure of the wall is far too dramatic to have been built by those who live in the world that we do, unless there was something that happened to prompt the construction.”

Adam nodded slowly, “You think that these creatures…. Whatever they are, were an issue before the wall was built, but you have lived so long behind the wall that it was forgotten with the historical records because no vrul has bothered to go outside the city for the past four thousand years, and by the time they did they were leaving by way of spaceship.”

Her antenna vibrated, in what he had come to know as the Vrul version of a nod.

“It makes sense, as I said before there is no reason for them to have built the walls so high and so thick. Furthermore, I have been analyzing satellite patterns of the surrounding area.” She opened a map before him and he crouched down on the floor with her to take a look as she spread it out on the ground, “Circular clusters of trees, everywhere, at first I thought they were just the natural way in which our trees grow, but you can see patches of them in others places that do not follow this pattern, but looking over here in this book that I found on etymology, they seem to be similar circles made by certain types of hibernating creatures that live on this planet.”

He stared at the evidence eyes wide, “So you are saying you believe that these creatures, whatever they are have been hibernating for a couple thousand years and were only distrurbed when the doctor made his way outside the city, probably due to vibrations in the ground.”

She nodded her head, “That was another thing I had been meaning to point out. The city walls are set on a series of inertial dampeners. Now when we do construction inside the city, the foundation rattles a little bit but the housing around it does not meaning that the city does not disturb the ground around it. This includes when spaceships take off and land despite their engines generally being powerful enough to cause shock waves.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” Adam muttered, “You guys may very well be living in a post apocalyptic utopian hellscape and no one knew because the historical records beforehand were lost.” He lifted his head and turned towards where krill and katie were still working, “Doctor! Wou will want to come and hear this.”

***

He could hear the others speaking in sharp tones behind him, though he wasn’t really paying attention. His eyes were focused mostly on the creature inside the tank. Some of the actual council members had deigned to descend from their council chambers as this was actually turning into a more serious matter than they thought. The history of the vrul was apparently a little more complicated than the “Brave new world” hellscape utopia in which they lived. In fact, it appeared as if they were some kind of post zombie apocalypse.

It was both cool and rather frightening at the same time especially when you considered the fact that these creatures were still hibernating beneath the ground, and could rise at the slightest provocation.

Inside the room, the zombie Vrul bashed it’s head against the wall causing another one of it’s yellow sores to pop spreading its pollenthick against the glass.

He moved forward to where one of the doctors was standing and asked, “Is there an intercom into the room?”

The Vrul turned to look at him and then nodded slowly, “There is, why?”

“I want to try something.”

The doctor stared at him as if he had been audaciou enough to pull off his pants and start pissing on the floor.

“What!”

“Humor me doc, if it works then I might know a way to defeat these things.”

The doctor looked about ready to argue with him but Adam gave hima look and he quickly backed off.

Adam knelt down and had the doctor show him how to transmit something into the room. He scolded quickly through his music library before picking something he thought had a nice complex beat.

The doctor watched him curiously as he turned on the song.

The glass was too thick for much sound to penetrate back through, but as soon as the beat started the reaction was almost immediate, and rather violent.

What had once been Dr. Kell jerked in it’s spot, then agitatedly began to run in a circle before falling to the ground where it twitched and convulsed. He stopped the song before the doctor could order him otherwise, and he turned to look at the little creature staring up at him in confusion, “Rhythmic induced cataplexy, just like the rest of you.”

He turned to look back at where Dr. krill was standing an idea beginning to form in his head.

It was a very extreme idea. He doubted anyone would be willing to try it.

But he had to admit, it did sound pretty tempting. 

Very tempting indeed.

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 38!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sententiously-sarcastic @sprinklestheditty

Content warnings!! Trauma and a scene that may resemble suicidal signs (please lmk if you can think of a better phrasing)

Leonardo and Hueso sat lotus style facing each other, Leonardo’s sword laid out in front of them. The rest of the mutants and April were forced behind a line of tape, told they could watch as long as they were quiet. Mikey and Raphael, it seemed, had trouble remembering that they couldn’t cross the line and would have to be gently reminded by Raph and Michalengalo to move back. They’d be so drawn into the ceremony like fish to a lure that they’d outright forget that they had crossed the line. Raphael, after the long nap gifted to him, was looking much brighter and calmer than the state Leonardo had left him in, and Leonardo had trouble focusing on Hueso without his eyes wandering back over to check on his brother. Hueso would snap his fingers each time Leonardo strayed and give a simple, “Eyes on me.”

The two of them sat in a silence for a long time, their hands joined. Hueso said it was only supposed to be a ten minute reflection to draw the memories forth from the sword, but for the first few times, Leonardo would have made some noise, no matter how small, and the progress of the ceremony would be lost. Finally, with great mental strain and biting his tongue to keep it from wanting to talk, finally they made it the full ten minutes. It was a delayed reaction, just enough for each of the brothers to consider that maybe they did something wrong. Then it happened all at once.

The lines traced along the blade of the odachi lit up in the brightest cerulean blue, spiraling in on itself until it illuminated a sixteen-petaled lotus with a downward-facing triangle in its middle surrounding a circle. Hueso opened his eyes finally, and Leonardo couldn’t hide the gasp as he witnessed the newfound beauty of the calaca. The usually blank canvas of his bones were decorated in bright rainbows of designs that seemed somehow dull in the presence of the glowing odachi. His normally white eyes shone a deep, powerful blue and his teeth each took on a different color.

“Hueso— your bones!” Leonardo remembered he wasn’t supposed to talk the minute the words left his mouth and he flinched with the expectation that all their progress would be erased, but it was not.

Hueso laughed at Leonardo. “My bones? You should take a look at yourself!”

Leonardo gave a confused hum and looked back at his companions, who all stared at him with wide expressions of awe and in various stages of cheers and silent words Leonardo couldn’t hear. “Why can’t I…?”

“It’s normal, don’t worry.” Hueso said, “We are truly alone. Check your reflection in the glint of your odachi if you care to.”

Leonardo leaned forward to look at the glowing odachi closer and, beyond the blue light, his reflection was as clear as if it were a mirror. Every mark and flaw on Leonardo’s face was lit up brightly, his stripes the brighter shades of the normal color, except glowing, while the rest of the imperfections matched the color of the odachi. Every scar and fault and blemish that covered his face and body was highlighted bright and beautiful.

“Wow…” Leonardo whistled, “I look hot!”

“You are Kintsugi.” Hueso said with a laugh, “And your chakra, of course, Vishuddha.”

“The throat chakra…” Leonardo touched his neck and felt the heat of the burning chakra within. “Wow. I’m literally hot!”

“You have no shame do you?”

“None at all.” Leonardo stuck out his tongue.

Hueso sighed and shook his head. “The sword holds the memories of all the places it has been. 
Each rift is opens leaves a mark in the very metal…” 

The reflection in the sword started to shift and change to show the most recent uses. Leonardo using the portal to defeat Leo in the spar. Leonardo using the portal to reach his father. Leonardo portaling away from Krang’s technodrone...

“There.” The memories stopped shifting at Hueso’s word, “When you’re more experienced, you will be able to draw forth these memories on your own. But for now, you did amazing.” Hueso let go of Leonardo’s hands to stand up. “Take your odachi and create your rift.”

Leonardo grabbed his odachi and stood up, every part of his body feeling numb and overwhelmed at the same time, and he traced the odachi through the air. It ripped through the fabric of reality almost audibly, the portal brighter and stronger than Leonardo had ever made or seen. The force of its draw was intense and unrelenting that Leonardo would have been pulled off his feet if it wasn’t for Hueso grabbing him by the bridge of his carapace to hold him still.

“We do not want to cross through there.” Hueso spoke just loud enough to be heard over the whistling of the rift, “You must move the rift to a safe entry point.”

Leonardo back to the rift and saw its placement, high in the center of the technodrone with hundreds of feet of open air below. He took a shaky breath as he moved just close enough to take a better look inside. 

“T… there?” He pointed at a ledge farther down the wall of the technodrone.

“You tell me.” Hueso said calmly. 

“Y… yes.” Leonardo decided, almost confident. “Yes, that would work.”

“Then let us retrieve your brothers.”

****

Everything was going just as planned. Krang was rubbing his ring with that devilish grin spit across his pink face, a tentacle occasionally rubbing the ring just to feel the rush of its power once more. The Shadow Fiend did just as Krang ordered, down to the smallest request. When Krang said to walk, The Shadow Fiend walked. When Krang said to sit, the Shadow Fiend sat. When Krang said to jump or growl or roar or beg, The Shadow Fiend listened. Krang liked that. He could only imagine what this creature would be like at its full power, and he could hardly wait to use it to its full potential.

“How much longer?” Krang looked away from his ring just long enough to address Draxum.

Draxum was humming softly as he did his work, as slow as he could manage without drawing attention from Krang. He had to give that skeleton enough time to find the brothers and bring them here, and he was running out of ways to stall. “The ceremony has to be perfect, Great Oni. I must make sure there is no fault in my lines.”

“Very well then.” Krang huffed, “Just hurry up then! I want my new prize sooner rather than later.”

“You will have your prize.” Draxum promised, “You just must be patient.”

“Patience isn’t a virtue of us ‘oni’ in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh trust me, I have.” Draxum muttered under his breath, too low for Krang to hear. Krang was too busy looking at his ring again to care anyway. Finally, Draxum brought Yoshi to the middle of the ceremony, the rat blind folded with his arms and legs tied as Draxum could manage without snapping the limbs. Mutants were all so delicate compared to yokai, especially their fleshy bits.

“You are a cruel creature, Baron Draxum!” Yoshi spat, trying to snap at Draxum’s hand while the yokai handled and positioned him like a doll. “Gaining the trust of me and my sons, pretending you’ve changed— betraying my dear Orange!”

“You should talk less.” Draxum warned.

Yoshi didn't stop. “And now you bring these innocent other worldly creatures into your lust for power?! What— you want to steal their mutagen too? Haven’t you done enough damage to the people of New York?!”

Draxum laughed and planted his hoof firmly on Yoshi’s back, pressing the mutant slowly and firmly into the ground and twisting him almost playfully. “You are not people, Yoshi. You. Are. A. RAT!” 

He slammed his hoof down hard and Yoshi cried out as the sharp hoof pierced the fur and flesh. 

“Leave him alone!” Splinter cried out from where he was still being held captive by Draxum’s vines. 

Draxum rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the talkative mutant. “Why is he still alive again?”

“I want him to watch as I destroy his sons.” Krang laughed, “Or, more as my new pet here does. It’ll make him all the more entertaining after I freeze him.”

Cassandra didn't know how to feel. She trusted her master more than anything, and her master seemed to trust this ‘oni’ so she had to trust him too. But at the same time… this Splinter had been so kind to her. Sat down with her during her girl scouts phase… talked with her… advised her. He was so nice, and to see him being abused by her master jut felt wrong. But then she shook her head to dismiss such treasonous thoughts as they tried to invade. She was Cassandra freaking Jones! Loyal to the Foot Clan and to her masters to the very end! And when she could get her hands on the orb and free her family and clan, she would do just that and everything would be well again— just as long as they got those turtles out of the way!

****

The portal took them through just as planned. Their feet carried them swift and quiet, even the large box turtles able to walk as silent as a panther stalking through the night. The bigger brothers were the first through, followed by the mix-matched set, and lastly April, which made the bay brother’s eyes widen in apprehension .

“Should she be here?” Raph asked, his voice as low as one could hope it to be. “This ain’t exactly safe!”

Donnie’s eyes seemed to bug out of their sockets in his panic that quickly turned to confusion. “Wait— her o2 stats are still stable… how is she breathing right now?”

“She won’t be if she goes down there.” Raph growled, “This ain’t amateur hour.”

“AMATEUR?!” 

Michelangelo practically tackled April, pressing his finger to her lips to shush her. Leonardo watched the scene with a strange expression on his face. Raphael and Donatello were quick to notice, both of them exchanging looks to make sure the other was seeing what they were. The expression wasn’t quite sad nor happy nor upset nor mad. It was just… calm. Calm and so unnerving on the usually animated face of their little brother.

“April, maybe you should stay behind.” Leonardo’s voice was even and quiet. 

“What? But Leo—“ April stopped talking the minute she saw the look on Leonardo’s face. Tired and scared and calm all stitched into his face in such a subtle manner that to anyone other than family it would be inperceptible. Something was wrong, and Leonardo’s voice sounded so serious that April quickly forsaked her previous outrage for a gentle, “Yeah… right. Whatever you say Leo…”

She went back through the rift and left them. Leonardo turned his attention then to Raphael. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to fight?”

“Y-yeah! Feeling better already.” Raphael tried to smile, but it was hard. “Are you alright Leo?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Leonardo sounded more like Donatello than like himself as he hovered over the edge of the ledge and looked down at the long drop beneath, vertigo spiraling in his mind though he hardly cared. “On your call, bud.”

“Leo…?” Michelangelo finally caught onto what was happening, sticking out his bottom lip as he eyed Leonardo with red eyes that burned like the sun. “Are you okay?”

Leonardo gave a weak laugh and smiled, his eyes looking to Michelangelo, and the box turtle could see tears trying to escape them. “Don’t you worry, Hermano. You’ll be just fine. I love you all so much.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye…?”

Leonardo didn't answer.

[q-gorgeous]

The Unworld

fanfiction

ao3

HI THIS IS A REPOST jnbhgv i originally posted this march 15th, 2018 on ffn but im gonna start going through the painstaking process of posting all my fics on ao3 so were just gonna go in order starting with the first one

idk if i ever posted this on my main blog so

I’ve been drifting around this place for what feels like millenniums. I can’t remember how I ended up here, just that one day I found myself unfortunate enough to be taken here. There’s no light, no ghastly glows from any other creatures. I’ve been here so long I can no longer even tell if I’m still blinking. 

This place has no real feeling to it. Just vast emptiness. It doesn’t really feel like it goes on forever, and it’s not a heavy, overwhelming type of emptiness either. The temperature feels as if it’s at a comfortable point, but I begin to wonder if I’ve just grown used to the climate of this strange place after being here for centuries. My fingertips are still cold though. That’s one thing I remember from my life all that time ago. I could never conquer the cold, no matter how bundled up I was. 

I’ve also begun to notice that my form is no longer the same as when I first arrived here. I feel lighter now than I did then. Sometimes I also feel as if my legs turn into a tail as I float here. I’m not sure why that is, I’ve just come to see it as evolving to my surroundings, becoming my surroundings. I think that might be what happens to other beings who get stuck here. They get eaten and picked at by this place. Because I can’t be the only one who’s had the unfortunate luck to get stuck here, can I?

I also believe that beings trapped here get devoured because I can feel myself becoming wispy, like I’m made out of a flickery material similar to fire. Bits by bits of myself flake off in the flowing rhythm my body has taken on. 

As my train of thought goes in circles on it’s tracks with no end, I realize something that I haven’t tried to do for a long time. 

Move. 

Walk. 

Get around. 

It must’ve been quite a few centuries since I’ve tried to look for a way to escape this dark place. I was still more corporeal then, still knew how to work my limbs. Would I even be able to make it a few steps before growing weary and succumbing to this place once again?

As I think and think and think, I come to the conclusion that nothing would hurt whether I did it or not. I began by trying to take a step forward in front of me but I’m not standing on anything to take a step from. As I lose my balance and begin to wobble, my legs turn into a flickering tail once again and I balance out. I begin to float forward more steadily now, as if my tail is helping to propel me. 

I go on for what could be minutes, hours, or even years until I come across something that feels so alien but oh so familiar at the same time. 

Gravity. 

There’s a weight pulling me towards what I assume is down. At first I just quietly observe what’s happening. But then I hear something that isn’t the ever so slowly shallower and shallower breaths I’ve been taking for centuries. It’s loud and it isn’t something I’ve ever heard before. And then…

I can see. 

There’s a fluorescent green glowing above me. I look at my arms, wispy and shadow like, reflecting the green light. 

My escape is above me. The opposite way that I’m floating.

I begin to propel myself upwards, trying to fight the ever increasing feeling of gravity as it pushes harder and harder against me. Soon I’m clawing myself up, fingers gripping a wall, it bends against my fingers and it’s the most wonderful thing I can ever remember feeling. Something beneath my fingers. 

As I make my way up I begin to wonder how I know this is an escape. Who knows whether or not this place is controlled by some other powerful being, or if this is just the last stage before my existence is finally wiped away. I just know that I need to pull myself over this wall and into this light. 

Pulling myself over the wall is excruciatingly painful and tiring. I haven’t used my muscles for anything except breathing in centuries. At one point, I lost my hold and almost fell from the wall but I managed to keep my grip and keep climbing up. 

As I finally pull myself up over the wall, I look at the green light, triumphant, but I notice that it’s getting smaller and smaller. Disappearing, my last chance. 

Panicking, I dive into the portal, crashing into a solid floor on the other side. 

My senses are immediately overwhelmed. I can feel gravity and the floor crowding in from all around me. I can smell different scents that I can’t recognize, this place smells burnt, caustic, and slightly of a sweet smell that makes my mouth begin to water. The most overwhelming though is sound. So much is happening. I can hear sets of shouts, but I can also hear whirring. The sound of electricity mixes with the sound of someone screaming and through my panicked state on the floor I begin wondering what’s happening around me in this new world I fell into. 

I drag myself up into a sitting position, and gap at the sight before me. A young being falls out of the glowing, fluorescent light that I made my escape through. Had there been someone else in there with me this whole time? Had I not realized it? The screaming has stopped now that the figure with snow white hair exited the portal and collapsed. 

This being does not appear to be human. 

Am I even human anymore?

I begin to creep forward to ask them a question when two teenagers rush past me and collapse next to the second being to escape from the portal. 

Confused, I begin to pull myself towards the creature on the ground. Why couldn’t his friends see me? Am I not visible?

The boy opens his glowing green eyes and looks at the two humans above him.

“Sam? Tucker?” He asks.

I’m flabbergasted. How could he know their names? It is nearly impossible to escape from that place. How could he happen to know these two humans?

They three have a few more exchanges before the boy is standing. He looks around and finds a reflective fixture hanging on the wall. What’s the word for it again? It’s been so long…

As the boy takes a look at his appearance, he begins to shake. He shakes his head back and forth, clearly in a state of panic. 

“N-no, guys how can this be happening? Why do I look like this? Why do I feel so strange? Why-.”

Suddenly he stops speaking, looking at the ground he turns around to face his friends. He looks up, with a shocked expression on his face before he quietly whispers.

“Am I dead?” 

The three look around at each other, at a loss for words in their fear. Soon enough a big rumbling comes from above and the three teens look up. Panic falls across all of their faces. 

A worried voice comes from the entryway to the room.

“Danny, kids, are you okay?”

The one I presume to be Danny, begins to breathe more heavily as his eyes widen. 

“They can’t see me like this. What would I tell them? ‘Your invention works but it killed me’?”

The two try to calm him down but a sudden burst of white light emits around him and engulfs him from his head to his toes. Once it dies down a human boy can be seen standing in his place, with raven black hair and baby blue eyes. 

At that moment his parents rush downstairs and begin coddling him, making sure he’s okay when they see the portal behind him. They wear a shocked expression, but quickly shake their heads and rush their son upstairs. Soon a door can be heard slamming shut and something speeds away. 

My mind is reeling at everything I just witnessed. More than anything I have witnessed in the last few centuries. But that boy didn’t come from inside the portal like I did. 

He’s the reason it turned on. 

I float towards the portal, peering at it but not daring to go inside, lest I get trapped in that dark nothingness once again. 

This changed something about that boy, this isn’t something that should have happened. I’m sure of it. 

I turn to look in the… Mirror! It’s called a mirror. At first I can’t see myself but then I flicker into existence and I can see what I look like for the first time in as long as I can remember. 

It’s not what I was expecting. I appear translucent and wispy, my eyes also a glowing green. I look as if I were a fire so cold it were a shadow. 

I once again look around the room, feeling lost and alone. I’m unsure what to do with my new found freedom, knowing I can’t pick up where I left off. I don’t even know when I left off. 

I make my way up the...stairs. 

I see a burst of orange light coming from outside the house and look through the window. The sun is closing in on the horizon. I try to turn the doorknob but find that my hand passes straight through it instead. Looking at it in shock, I just float straight through the door. 

I sit down on the grass outside, relishing in the cool feeling of it as I wait for the boy to come home. 

I’m unsure on what I should do now, but one thing I think I need to do is stay here and help this boy however I’m meant to. 

Because why else would I have escaped the Unworld? It couldn’t have been a coincidence. 

My memories begin to resurface now that I can interact with anything that isn’t a numbing darkness. I can feel the memories of my capture welling up. 

This...halfa… escaped the wrath of the Unworld and death. 

This halfa got the chance that I did not. I got sucked in by a portal whose calculations were off by a point and while I believe the same being changing experience happened to us both, he got the chance of them being right this time. 

I look back at the house that I’m sitting in front of. As my memories return I realize that I hadn’t actually been in that place for centuries. 

It looks like it hasn’t even been a year. 

Two portal accidents in the time frame of a year. 

I always knew that their sick obsession with ghosts would eventually end up hurting one of us. 

But you’d think that after accidentally letting your only daughter walk right in the middle of an experiment, that they would learn their lesson. Especially after learning she disappeared from it’s effects. 

But now, her little brother was now a victim of their twisted obsession too. 

As I sit in our small patch of grass in front of the house, something happens. A ring of white light spreads up and around me. Holding my hands up, I see that they are my hands. Peachy, solid hands.

I look up to see my family gaping at me from the RV. Tears spring to my eyes and they exit the vehicle and run towards me. 

I’m not sure what happened to Danny and I, but I know that, together, we’ll conquer this challenge.

[callistolivia]

Lilith in the Birthchart

“Within Black Moon Lilith, we find a woman’s turmoils and fears, the balance between how people see women and how we wish to see women, the internal and external rejection of womanhood, absurd reactions and compensations to actively change perception (transformation), the snake. Lilith isn’t of lust, isn’t a creature, demon, seductress, witch, nor Adam ex-wife... She is purely a metaphor of young womanhood and coming to terms with woman’s fears and desires; the uniqueness of the female experience.” Look at this post here for my full interpretation of Black Moon Lilith.

I realize this post, as well as my other post on Lilith, plus other posts I’ve done on feminine asteroids, will be controversial to a lot of people as it heavily focuses on women/feminine experience. To me, I think the astrological placement of Lilith (among other certain placements) hold particular importance to the female experience. So I pardon my blatant exclusion of male experience and I can imagine that a lot of the themes I am describing can work in a male’s birth chart. The psychological history behind Lilith has strong connections to female representation which is why I interpret it this way. With that all said, everyone has both masculine and feminine energies working within their chart which is to be remembered. 

Black Moon Lilith in the Birthchart

Interpret by house first, as the house Lilith is in uncovers more of the whereabouts to its themes in your life. Though, by sign will also uncover themes, especially in a strong sign such as Scorpio. Aspects to Lilith can also indicate the condition of the affected house.

I House/Aries  Lilith here is on the forefront and becomes an integral part of the individual’s identity. Its as if Inanna herself is personified in the individual (especially true if Lilith conjuncts the ascendant!) and she is on a quest to carve her throne in the Huluppu tree. The fears enveloped here revolve around being true to oneself and having an authentic feminine experience in their lifetime. There are also fears of being perceived in an unfavoured way and others making poor assumptions about the individual. These individuals will go through many trials of what is means to be a woman, especially in very pivotal moments of their life. They’re going to go through many moments of questioning their identity and will likely struggle at times to accept that they are perfect just the way they are. These individuals may go out of their way to seek validation for who they are and these outlets aren’t always good (especially if Lilith is ill-aspected). Natural attractiveness is common for individuals with this goddess placement, but they should be wary of this power to draw energies force (Some already are and may even fear attraction of others, especially when its for superficial reasons). It’s important for the individual to stay with the right crowd and not worry so much about their authenticity as it comes more naturally than they think. 

II House/Taurus  Lilith in the house regarding value explores themes of self-value. Lilith at its worst here can manifest in issues dealing with body image; the individual may have trouble loving their body and neglect to care for it. The individual’s relationship with food and nutrition can be particularly troublesome, especially if Lilith is ill-aspected here. Compensation is another theme to follow as a consequence to issues dealing with self-value. The individual may compensate in areas where they feel inadequate with themselves by material means. Spoiling oneself, food, money, beauty, extreme alteration, or anything to mask one’s true self are all second house compensations Lilith looks for to feel better, worthy, or secure in this world. Remarkably, the individual’s capacity for transformation is great. If they can heal their wounds and fears around the value of themselves, they can redirect that perception of unreachable perfection into their work. Artists in particular can benefit from this redirection of energy. It’s really important for these individuals to navigate away from material things giving them importance to this world; every material thing they think they need is really just a compensation for something they failed to see within themselves that has always been there.

III House/Gemini  Lilith here resembles a tale of trickery, when the goddess Inanna intoxicates “lord of wisdom,” Enki into giving her all of his knowledge and wisdom. Symbolically, Lilith holds all of truth, wisdom, and knowledge here. Particularly the theme of women holding knowledge and the empowerment in that is strong here as well. Individuals with this placement tend to be cunning; this placement is comparable to Mercury-Pluto or Mercury-Moon aspects. Lilith speaks through the individual, some of what the individual has to say evokes fear, though there is just as much power to negate and heal fear as well. Lilith here at its worst can make individuals liars and manipulators, at its best unravellers of mysteries and forecomings of truth. Since the third house has rulership over siblings and early education, this placement can have a “coming-of-age” theme to it. Often the fears and anxieties the individual has is stems from observing their siblings and peers go through their struggles at a young age and they reflect on what that means for them (especially for young girls). Some of these fears and insecurities from their youth stick with them and they continue to ponder their adolescence as an adult. These individuals tend to have a fixed perception (especially true if the third house is occupied by a fixed sign) of womanhood and aren’t afraid to speak their mind about it. They are easily disgusted and troubled by observing others with opposing perspectives. With that said, some of these individuals tend to be hypocritical and aren’t aware of it. The individual may need to learn to be more of a safe-haven for open discussion to work through their insecurities. 

IV House/Cancer  Lilith presenting itself in the first of the three soul houses demonstrates ancestral fear, turmoils, and mysteries. Often these individuals fears start out very subconsciously and are developed from witnessing other family members (maternal figures especially) go through something traumatic. Witnessing their mother struggle through their own perceptions of what it means to be a woman in this world has a tremendous effect on the individual, especially at a young age; it often shapes how the individual will view themselves and their place in the world. It can also make the individual have many preconceived ideas on motherhood, domestic life, and relationships between parents based on being their mother’s observer in their youth. If the relationship between the individual and their maternal figure(s) isn’t good, it can be difficult to address and heal these traumas. Sometimes these individuals can be total estranged from their maternal figures and have an unclear idea of what their stories are; many secrets can be kept from the individual and there can be a bit of loss in identity (e.g. no feminine guidance in youth/how to be feminine/rejection of femininity). The individual’s household can sometimes be a reflection of their inner turmoils, they may neglect making it their safe space or they see it as a cause to a lot of their issues. Lilith here can also express itself in a form of past life karma or a karmic cycle the individual may be in. The individual needs to work through what their fears, turmoils, and angers are tied to in order to break this cycle. 

V House/Leo  Lilith here is a trial of what a woman is allowed to do. Since the fifth house rules over creations and pleasures, there is a lot of experimentation in just that. The individuals feel as though push their limits and test the waters in everything because the world is antagonistic towards their identity. Their fear is being casted into an archetype; at an early age they would be introduced to concepts of how the world perceives the role of femininity. A lot of their behaviour can be excessive or reckless, especially in their youth. There is a tendency towards promiscuousness especially; they’re putting the two feminine archetypes on trial and attempting to destroy the notion that you can only be of the two based on what you do; the virgin Mary or the prostitute. Though a noble intention, these individuals can often be misguided with their excessive behaviours. They spend too much energy on trying to prove something to the world about their being when they don’t need to. Lilith here has the capacity to transform and redirect this noble energy into creative efforts. Artists can benefit with this placement as their creations are often thought provoking and, in essence, demonstrate trials of femininity. The creative expression of Lilith here is much more healing, gratifying, and gains more positive recognition. Lilith here can also indicate either the choice of not having children or that the individual’s child will be very Lilithian in nature.

VI House/Virgo  Lilith here presents itself irrationally, particularly, and sporadically. Though the individual doesn’t feel Lilith’s influence on a constant, it can be experienced on a day to day basis temporarily while doing minute or seemingly regular things. The fears brought upon here correlate to injury or illness (diseases, losing limbs, loss of function, etc.). These individuals find themselves irrationally thinking of the “what ifs” of rather normal situations. It should be stressed though, that often these individual’s fears are often not debilitating, just invasive and vivid. However, a strong 6th house/Virgo influence coincide with Lilith being there can indicate some obsessive compulsive behaviours and just in general lots of situations where the individual feels the need to do something a certain way to negate harm. The other prominent theme of Lilith here is a women’s experience in the working world. The transition between a young, inexperienced woman to an experienced one is a pivotal moment in Lilith’s expression here. There may be many difficulties, assumptions, and fears correlated to getting work, job experience, and moving up in their field. The individual’s fears often are related to feeling inadequate based on their identity, presumptions about themselves, and inhibitions because of their heightened awareness that their identity (especially for women, as a woman) places them in a particular way in the world. Their own perceptions of themselves are often the most inhibiting; the best way to transform and feel empowered with Lilith here is to be unapologetically yourself and take the world by surprise. 

VII House/Libra  In the seventh house, Lilith expresses fears of counterparts, peers, and juxtapositions. Lilith here usually hints to a tainted perception of relationships developed at a young age (e.g. abusive relationships firsthand or observed). The individual can be very suspicious and distrusting of close relationships and partnerships, they are very skeptical of others motives, especially of the opposite sex. This may be troublesome for the individual in relationships as they can be suspicious of their partner even with constant reassurance and stability. These issues can only be healed over time with positive, healthy relationships. Lilith in the seventh house is also troubled by their perception of themselves in comparison to others and vice versa. In particular, the conscious awareness of differences (and similarities) between genders and gendered experiences. Alternatively, Lilith here manifests as the individual’s reflection in others. The individual encounters people whose stories inspire things within their identity they’ve failed to see before. The mirror Lilith presents to the individual can be empowering and beautiful or destructive and ugly. When the individual chooses to surround themselves with empowering and inspiring individuals, it will bring out the good Lilith has to offer, especially for female experiences. 

VIII House/Scorpio  Lilith presenting itself in the second of three soul houses demonstrates yet again, a level of ancestral fear, turmoils, and mysteries. Fears experienced on a more conscious level, but run as deep as their soul. Often their fears revolve around sexuality and severe distrust of other people’s motives. It’s very difficult for these individuals to ignore harsh realities and they may even go out of their way to witness gruesome things which awakens outrage within. These individuals can view sex and intimacy as something traumatic and have a difficult time opening up to their partners; intimacy requires a tremendous amount of trust. Even when that trust is gained, there can be a deeply rooted discomfort in being viewed in a lustful manner. They can be very hateful towards the opposite sex and protective of their own. These individuals hate (or fear) to appear small or vulnerable and may even act dominant or controlling in relationships. These individuals need to work towards trusting others in order to let go of the grip Lilith has here. Another theme Lilith expresses is a fear of death, fear of knowing, and fear of the occult. This can be especially difficult for a person who is psychically sensitive. The individual may go out of their way to inhibit or block their own gifts due to the fear of it showing something they were not prepared for. Again, trust is a big aspect of overcoming these fears, but also knowledge and perceptiveness to know how to keep oneself from harm. 

IX House/Sagittarius  Lilith in the ninth house carries some of the same themes as Lilith in the third, however the difference is that instead of fixed perceptions on womanhood, their perceptions are more like beliefs and morals. They think their beliefs are imperative and the highest of truths which ultimately can be dogmatic and misguided. Their fixed beliefs are usually rooted from fear and superstition. They can be just as hypocritical as Lilith in the third too, especially when their consciousness isn’t clear (drugs or alcohol or any sort of substance abuse involved). Inner insecurities need to be addressed and healed to have a more rational perspective on life. There is a hyperfixation on the higher learnings of womanhood, some of these individuals can become reclusive; some women with this placement even opt to not marry. These individuals find empowerment in independence. Lilith at its best here can become a teacher to others, particularly beneficial for people interested in women’s studies and women’s health; however these individuals should be wary of their biases and their perceptions that are deeply rooted in their personal experiences thus far. Themes of feminine ritual take place here as well, which is in part of their tendency to superstition. Individual’s ritualism is developed at a young age and becomes a prominent part of their truth and reality as an adult.

X House/Capricorn  Lilith here can be rather difficult for the female experience. The themes brought upon here are a lot to do with the public’s speculation of the individual. These individuals tend to have a seemingly easy-breezy path towards the top of their field, in fact, one might say the top of their ambition drew them in as much as they drew it. However, Lilith here has a magnifying glass over it; the watchful eyes of the public seeing, judging, and speculating the individual’s every move. The individual may find themselves dealing with a lot of rumours about them, prosecution by association, misconceptions, unwanted drama, and assumptions. A lot of the troubles are correlated to society’s perception of how a woman should behave. The public sees the individual as the dark and mischievous version of Lilith, the public desires and feeds on that perception of the individual. As a result, the individual may purposefully act out or feel complete shame and go into hiding. Issues dealing with feeling vulnerable all the time because of their identity are very present within the individual. Lilith at its best here can make a notable feminine figurehead, the individual just needs to work on transforming the public’s perception of femininity as something empowering. The other theme with Lilith in the tenth house is potential issues with the paternal figure in the individual’s life. There’s potential that the paternal figure had a great impact on the core of individual’s feminine experience and perceptions in life. 

XI House/Aquarius  Lilith in the eleventh house deals with themes of the individual’s collective consciousness being at the core of their feminine experience. Collective consciousness usually meaning their friends; prominent, reality shaping experiences with their friends and peers at a young age are at the core of their insecurities, fears, and perceptions of feminine energy. This placement does demonstrate not so great relations with friends, especially female friends. In fact, that is Lilith in the eleventh house at its worst; bullying from female friends and the psychological damage from that. It’s very easy for individuals with this placement to alienate themselves from others based on negative experiences. At its best, collective consciousness can be beneficial for exploring and understanding femininity and female experience as a whole, but the individual with this placement will have to navigate through to find the right people, or their people. Individuals with this placement may be interested in helping others struggling with feminine identity and some of the struggles of womanhood as they are quite empathetic to that experience. Another theme with Lilith here is the value of platonic relations. Individuals with this placement struggle with the stage between a platonic relationship and blooming attraction. There’s a deep discomfort with it, especially if they value the relationship as just a friendship and nothing more. They can also be suspicious of the motives of new friendships, perhaps from deeply rooted insecurity or simply that they don’t want a romantic/sexual relationship. 

XII House/Pisces  Lilith presenting itself in the third and final soul house is completely unconscious; Lilith is asleep and almost absent here. Loss of feminine identity takes place here. Individuals with this placement will experience Lilith’s themes within their dreams and times of total darkness. Individuals with this placement aren’t always aware of their trauma, fears, or turmoils. There’s a chance something traumatic happened to them at a time they cannot remember or it’s something they blocked out entirely, but tends to haunts them within their dreams. These individuals tend to be very angry at themselves for things they cannot control and for things that are often not their fault. These individuals are also escapists; they are very susceptible to addiction or obsessive compulsive behaviours. Though, Most 12th house Lilith individuals escape through sleeping. Excessive sleeping, however, leads to guilt. These individuals fear death and don’t want to watch life pass them by. There’s a big theme here of push and pull; doing everything you can in life to not regret missing out and the absence of living life. Lilith here needs to seek balance and acceptance instead of pondering too much about what fate lies within them. The unconscious traumas within them need to be carefully addressed and healed as well to feel comfortable with their identity and place in this world (especially as a woman).

[theriodont]

Snakes

When I was a kid, I was fascinated by snakes. I loved their slinky, slithery movements and bone-defying flexibility -- and I was also endlessly frustrated by my inability to tell whether they had very long legless bodies or just very long tails attached to a skull, or what.

(For the record, they’re mostly body, with short necks and tails. You can tell by looking at where the ribs are in a skeleton.)

As major reptile groups go, snakes are a very recent development -- they’re younger by far than lizards, crocodiles or turtles, having only emerged late in the Cretaceous. They've been around for less than birds or mammals have, too -- and there’s a reason for that, as it’s thought that snakes arose in part in response to arrival of mammals.

The precise origin and development of snakes isn’t extremely well-documented, because snake skeletons are fragile and easily destroyed and so don’t turn up too often in the fossil record. What we do know is that the first snakes were relatives of the early monitor lizards, as monitors are the snakes’ closest living relatives, and probably resembled them.

Reasonably well-preserved snake fossils start appearing in the tail end of the Cretaceous, only a very short time before the famous extinction. These creatures still had vestigial limbs, often reduced to a single hind pair, and were burrowers (this in part counteracts the fragility of their skeletons, as burrowing animals are typically in an excellent spot to become buried and preserved and tend to be well-represented in the fossil record -- there’s nothing quite so nice in paleontology as a self-burying fossil). It’s not that clear what their ancestors were like, but they were probably something not too different from the modern-day earless monitor, another burrowing species.

That burrowing habit, specifically, is quite likely what caused the snakes’ leglessness. Burrows, as a rule, are cramped spaces -- digging is tiring work, so most animals make tunnels just wide enough for their bodies. This in turn means it’s a good thing to have a compact body, because it cuts down on how much dirt you have to move. Burrowing mammals, like gophers or ferrets, achieve this by having short, powerful limbs and low profiles, keeping their legs tucked against their chests when moving and essentially turning themselves into furry little tubes. They can do this because their high metabolisms allow them to support themselves on legs kept erect beneath their bodies, a stance that requires a lot of energy to maintain.

Lizards, with lower metabolisms, cannot do this, and keep their legs in a sprawled position. This is a problem for burrowing lizards, because it drastically widens their profiles -- and in turn forces them to either waste a lot of energy in digging wider tunnels or deal with cramped, tight conditions and toes that smack against tunnel walls with every step. The early snakes couldn’t pull their legs underneath themselves, so they did the next best thing -- they got rid of them altogether.

This of course begs another question -- if lizards has so much going against them in a tunneling lifestyle, why did they adopt it begin with? There are a number of possible answers, and it’s likely that they all played a factor. Burrows offer shelter from predators, weather extremes and temperature fluctuations, to begin with, and these would all have benefited a lizard capable of heading underground. However, the late Jurassic and the Cretaceous also saw a new clade of animals come along that was characterized by, among other things, extensive burrowing habits and a tendency to feature on the menus of modern-day snakes.

                                      “I don’t like where this is going...”

Where the prey goes, predators follow -- and a sudden boom in tunneling prey followed by a boom in tunneling predators is probably not coincidental. Even if the early mammals weren’t the reason those early lizards headed underground to begin with, they certainly encouraged them to stay there.

Later snake species left their tunneling origins fairly early and adapted to a variety of different environments, but their burrow-dwelling origins likely did a lot to save their hides during the end-Cretaceous extinction. Burrowing animals tend to do comparatively well during such events, as the ability to retreat underground lets them ride out the brunt of climate and temperature extremes.

Having a diet that mostly consisted of another widely-surviving group probably didn’t hurt much, either.

After the metaphorical dust settled, snakes did fairly well for themselves. They colonized most terrestrial habitats in fairly short order, and some reached gigantic sizes -- Titanoboa, a genus that arose five million years after the dinosaurs died out, is thought to have reached or exceeded thirteen meters (nearly forty-three feet) in length. The origin of snake venom isn’t really all too clear, but probably happened in the early Cenozoic as well. This was a major development for snakes, as it made them much more efficient predators -- earlier species had relied on physically subduing their prey, which was both less likely to successfully kill their prey and more likely to get them injured.

Snakes also developed very specialized organ arrangements to suit their lifestyles, although to rarity of preserved soft tissues makes these difficult to trace and time. Their organs are thin and elongated, and snakes have only one working lung, the right one -- in many cases, the left lung is entirely absent.

                    A slow-worm, which is neither a snake nor a worm.

The basic snake body plan is evidently a very successful ones for their lifestyle, because multiple families of lizards developed into it independently of either true snakes or each other. Most, like the ancestral proto-snakes, are either burrow-dwellers or live in thick undergrowth. Very few are as specialized as true snakes, however -- many have vestigial limbs, whether stubby legs or simply claws, and almost all retain two functional lungs.

Amateurs.

[volexis]

moral of the story; akaashi keiji x gn!reader

summary: you never thought falling out of love would be so painful

warning: angst, that’s it I think?

wc: 1.5k

note: general taglist is open, fill out this form if you’d like to be added!

a/n: why is it the first time I write a haikyuu fic it’s angst :,) This is loosely inspired by the song “Moral of the Story” by Ashe, hence the title. It popped into my playlist and here I am an hour later and very heartbroken 

"Is everything okay?" You peered over your phone to glance at your lover. He paused midturn, a page of his current novel between his fingers. He hummed absentmindedly after a short pause and continued his reading. It didn’t surprise you in the least. Akaashi Keiji was a blunt man of few, well-placed words. You took it in stride when his witty remarks began to be replaced with measured silences as he eased out of his loud, rambunctious high school years. On the contrary, you praised him for being mature enough to pick and chose his fights. Once this quietude bled into the comfort of your shared apartment, bright afternoons spent lounging together faded into the two of you on opposite sides of the room; awkward stillness punctuated by a lack of eye contact, of any sort of contact at all. He was now a specter, drifting monotonously through daily routines, unfettered in his tranquility. It seemed like he barely noticed your presence anymore.

Akaashi probably hadn’t realized himself but you know him well enough to see the small, subtle changes in the way he acts around you. The all but imperceptible flinching of his shoulders when you would rest your chin on the crown of his head. His fingers would falter at the keyboard but resume just as quickly as they’d stopped, hoping you wouldn’t notice. Praying you wouldn’t notice. No dice. For his sake, maybe more for your own, you’d smile down at him, as sweet as you could muster, and gingerly rest your arms on his shoulders, wrapping around him in an almost awkward embrace.

Before you could linger any longer he’d stand up, unraveling your arms from around him as gently as he could but his fingers felt like needles pricking your skin every time they made contact with you. He’d distract you by asking about day, opting to ramble about his own troubles when you’d say nothing.  He took your silence as compliance, disinterest even. There were days where you used to prefer his idle prattling to the dense lull that seemed to plague the time you spent together. Today was not one of them. Bitter words burned holes in your tongue but you wouldn’t send them out into the world, you couldn’t, lest they wound him too.

Even then you’d still look out for him. His passing out on the couch had become an increasingly common occurrence, more so in the last months of your relationship. When you’d ask him about it, he’d brush it off with a simple “I’m sorry, love, I fall asleep here sometimes when I’m working late”. Love. It probably tasted as acrid as it sounded coming from him but you chose not to dwell on it. You tucked the thought away for a sleepless night.

It started with him working late nights with his computer on his lap, furiously typing away at something he wouldn’t let you look at. You’d stay up as long as you could, staring at his side of the bed until you could no longer distinguish the darkness of the room from that behind your eyelids.

On the occasions you’d wake up at odd hours of the night, you’d find him resting calmly on the couch, spread-eagle under the worn blanket you’d gifted him early on in your relationship. You paused to smooth his hair back and kiss his forehead, but you hesitated. He’d taken off his glasses. His computer lay safely on the coffee table, charging and far out of reach from his wayward limbs. “Odd,” you’d mumble to yourself. Instead, you tucked him in, adjusting the cloth so it’d cover more of his body. Then back to bed, back to the darkness, back to an empty room chock full of unanswered questions.

“Does he still love me?” You clutched your phone tightly as you waited with bated breath. 

“Of course he does, what makes you think otherwise?” Bokuto was quick to respond, hasty even. His warm voice should’ve soothed your nerves, but it only amplified your worries. 

“(Y/N), did he do something?” His voice dramatically lowered in pitch, crawling through your speakers in a gravelly, almost menacing manner. The seriousness in his tone made you jump, this wasn’t something you expected from the usually light-hearted athlete. “If he’s hurt you—”

“Of course he hasn’t, I’m- I don’t even know how to say this, he’s- it’s,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s nothing, I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill.”

You could practically see him quirking his head to the side in confusion, further emulating the feathered creature he often reminded you of. “I don’t get it.”

You couldn’t hold back the raucous giggles that poured out, Bokuto joining in good-naturedly. You spoke up after your laughter had ceased and allowed you to breathe regularly once more. “Thanks for that, Bo, I really needed it.” A small smile rested on your features, a remnant of the few moments of mirth you’d been able to enjoy in the past few weeks. You hung up and ambled on, oblivious to the lingering presence by the front door. Maybe if you hadn’t called him, if you hadn’t been so distracted, you would’ve heard your boyfriend jostling the door handle that never seemed to want to turn properly. Maybe you would’ve seen the unreadable expression he donned, something akin to hurt mixed with something much more somber. 

You chose not to question him when he’d stay out late, later than he’d ever been, not even coming home on some days. If he came back the next morning, he’d be more disheveled than you’d last seen him, though you’d never tell him that you’d noticed. Turning a blind eye to the pain was easier than looking him in the eyes and accepting that the sparkle they once held when he looked at you was now gone. Replaced with something akin to a cautious indifference, perhaps thinly veiled pity.

When he asked you to lunch one day, you were hesitant to acquiesce. Even then, you loved him too much to ever say no. It hurt to think you were holding him back, grasping at threadbare strings that snapped the more you pulled; the more you ached for him to come back to you, to hold you like he used to. He had a certain way of molding himself around you, accommodating for any position you were in, wrapping his arms around your waist in a way that made you melt back into him. You missed it, you missed him, but maybe it was high time you realized he was no longer yours to claim.

He sat down in front of you at a nice café, somewhere breezy and local. You’d been there a couple of times before, it had strong, bracing coffee but you couldn’t quite recall the name of the shop. He was wearing a button-down with slacks. Comfortable, but not enough seeing as he fidgeted with the spring salad he had ordered, picking at the leaves of lettuce all the while glancing up at you and looking away just as quickly. He resembled a high schooler on a first date and you couldn’t fight the anxiousness gnawing at your stomach. The sandwich you had ordered no longer looked as appetizing.

“Kei—”

“Y/N—”

You both laughed out of a mix of awkwardness and relief. The silence had been broken, but at what cost?

“You go first, don’t worry,” you ushered. He nodded and reached for your hands over the table. He hesitated at the last minute, fingers hovering over yours, a queasy expression on his features. His brow crinkled in something akin to disgust, but you knew him well enough to know he was deep in thought. Did you really know him though? How much has changed since the last time the two of you were able to sit down on the couch and cuddle with a mindless show droning on on the tv in front of you? Did he still prefer tea to coffee? Did he still stop by the onigiri shop at corner on his way to work even though it’d make him late? Did he still fidget with his fingers when he was nervous or contemplating something?

You looked down to see his fingers trembling above yours. He was picking at his nails and the skin around them methodically. Something was bothering him and it made the pit in plaguing your stomach grow. One second passed. Then two. At the third, he gripped your fingers with resolve, something you hadn’t seen in him in a long time.

You squeezed back, offering a wary but encouraging smile. This only made him grimace deeply and you almost faltered.

“I have something important to tell you,” he started slowly, sounding out his words as if they were in a foreign language.

“Go ahead then.”

He carefully considered his next sentence but in the back of your mind, you had an aching feeling that you knew exactly what he was going to say. Five words left his mouth in a hushed whisper of decency, regret, or sympathy. You couldn’t tell which one hurt the most.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“I know.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

(Un)Wanted: Part 2

Read on Ao3 

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

A child that sees demons in every dark corner is not a child that is wanted.

A child that cries and freezes and mumbles of terrible things is not a child that is wanted.

A child that jumps and startles and hisses is not a child that is wanted.

Unwanted things are purged from the Earth.

So Virgil runs.

In other words: Virgil is an outcast, ostracized and shunned for how he was born, forced to flee an angry mob only to stumble right into a fae garden.

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: Implied/Referenced torture, child abuse, and self-harm, nothing super explicit. Sympathetic Deceit and Remus. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks.

Word Count: 10,227

Mortals have always been fascinating creatures for Patton.

They have so many…quaint little ideas about what they can do about things and such interesting ways of thinking about it. Some of them believe that they float in this strange grey area, using that to defend choices that harm or hurt other people. Some of them believe they were sent here with a purpose and they must fulfill it. Some of them don’t think at all.

 It’s fascinating, but then…when your life is confined to a mere century, Patton supposes everything must seem so…heavy.

 A shriek interrupts his thinking and he barely has time to step aside before a blast of magic swirls past him.

“Watch where you’re pointing that thing!” He puts his hands on his hips. “Now, who threw that?”

 He rolls his eyes fondly when the prince and the duke point at each other.

 “Kiddos, not that I don’t appreciate your enthusiasm,” he says, creating a quick shield between them and the portal so anymore, um, ‘misfires’ don’t accidentally get through, “but do you even know what you’re doing?”

 “You ask as if they ever know what they’re doing,” L mutters.

 “Oh, please,” the prince huffs, “I am always in complete control.”

“Falsehood.”

 “That’s right,” the duke grins, “sometimes it’s my turn.”

 “We are not making the mortal live at the bottom of the lake!” The prince smacks his forehead with his hand. “The furniture would be absolutely positively destroyed!”

 “And mortals cannot breathe underwater.”

 “That too!”

 “Ugh, you guys are so boring,” the duke huffs, “that’s the point! Then no one else would be able to get him! Plus,” he adds with a grin, “we could have so much more fun.”

 “I find it highly unlikely that the mortal’s definition of ‘fun’ and your definition have significant overlap,” L says.

 “Well, then we’ll just have to change that.” The duke claps. “The bottom of the lake it is!”

 “It is not!”

 “Is too!”

 Patton and L quickly step back as the twins start squabbling again. L shakes his head disparagingly as the prince summons a sword. “We aren’t going to let them do this, are we?”

 “No,” Patton agrees, “but they’ve got a point.”

 “Well, the prince does make an effort to sharpen his blade on a regular schedule.” When Patton opens his mouth to clarify, L continues. “But I do not believe we have a grasp of how to create a residence for a mortal either.”

 “I know.” Patton absentmindedly rubs his wrists, still feeling the aftershocks of the visions pushed into their bond.

 It hurt. It had burned in a way that nothing ever had for a long time. And for a fae, that can be a very long time indeed.

 Dropping his work to clutch at his chest, hunched over from the weight of what he’d felt had been agony on its own, and he’d dashed out to find the others, needing to know what hurts, what happened, please, tell me so I can fix it, only to find none of them, fearing the worst. Having to walk into the garden to see the others already huddled around a mortal—a mortal, the duke wrapped around them with everything but the tentacles. Having to be the one to say no, his own heart tearing to pieces with every word he utters, the feeling of the mortal trembling in his hold, the tension and fear brimming off of their skin, almost burning Patton’s hands. Feeling the horrible sick rush of terror when the other animals bumbled into the forest.

 Hearing just what they thought of V.

 After that, well…Patton hadn’t cared much about the rules anymore.

 And honestly, considering who it was that pushed the visions in the first place, Patton’s not sure he ever stood much of a chance.

 But one of the things about breaking the rules is that, well, there are no rules. There are no guidelines now, no strict set of things to follow. And when it comes to mortals, that can be almost as dangerous.

 “Look out!”

 “Wait, shit—“

 “Pat!”

 Patton blinks and suddenly the others are tackling him out of the way of another errant magic blast. As his brain desperately tries to connect the path from standing to being on the floor, L scowls.

 “You two need to stop,” he says sternly, “we only have a few minutes before V comes through and if he sees this, it’s likely he will not wish to remain.”

 “Sorry,” the prince murmurs, helping everyone up, “and sorry to you too, Duke.”

 “Eh,” the duke says, brushing himself off, “we’ve done worse.”

 “Yes,” L mumbles, “yes, you have.”

 “L,” Patton says once everyone’s righted themselves, “did you manage to get a good grasp of the place?”

 L nods. “It seems to be the small village in the northwest corner of the forest. The population is around two hundred. It is…unlikely that the land holds any significant powers.”

 “Hmph,” the prince grumbles, lifting his hand obediently, “such a lack of creativity.”

 In front of them, a village forms. Several houses line a small street, each with a slightly different size and shape. Behind them are ramshackle sheds, worn fences, and in the middle, a slightly larger building. Patton isn’t sure what the mortals use this one for, but it is considerably…shinier than the others.

 “I suppose it is quite…” L struggles for the right word. “…plain.”

 “That’s one way of putting it,” the duke sniffs, “where are you supposed to do anything?”

 “Now, kiddos,” Patton says, “this isn’t about what we want, it’s about what V wants.”

 “And you think he wants something blander than a piece of dead wood?”

 “Hey!” The duke smacks the prince upside the head. “Dead wood is great, thank you very much.”

 “I said blander than a piece of dead wood, you bumbling buffoon.”

 “It’s what he’s used to,” Patton says quickly before they can dissolve into another squabble, “it’s better to go slow, right?”

 “We have already seen that V can be overwhelmed very easily,” L agrees, “it might be best to…start blander.”

 “Fine.”

 And not a moment too soon, it seems, because the portal begins to glow. Patton turns around to see V step through, followed closely by J.

 “Glad you made it, kiddo,” Patton smiles, “we’ve been waiting for you!”

 His eyes widen and his chest clenches when V’s body seizes with terror and he freezes, still halfway out of the portal. J nudges him gently and V whimpers, wrapping his arms tightly around himself and baring his teeth in a snarl.

 “Hey, hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs quickly, starting towards him, only to freeze when V shrinks back, “okay, okay, I’m stopping. I’m right here, okay? I’m not gonna get any closer.”

 He crouches down, keeping his hands raised, feeling the others adopt similar positions of surrender. V’s gaze is still fixed on the houses, his body seemingly torn between wanting to turn and flee and never wanting to move again. Patton’s heart clenches when V’s breaths start to get faster and faster, the air whining in protest as it whips in and out of his lungs.

 “V,” J murmurs, “V, listen to me.”

 V’s head barely jerks.

 “Come on, little one, just listen to me, you can close your eyes if you have to.”

 Patton watches, a strange cocktail of relief and envy as J bends closer, whispering into V’s ear too low for the rest of them to possibly hear, one of his hands hovering just over V’s opposite shoulder. V’s eyes squeeze shut and slowly, slowly, he relaxes, his chin dropping to his chest. J continues to murmur soft words until finally V draws in a deep, slow breath and his arms finally loosen their death grip.

 J looks at V with such a look of concern that it makes Patton wince in sympathy, only soothed when V gives him a tight nod. J straightens, still hovering protectively around V, and turns his attention to the others, the soft look of worry quickly morphing into stone.

 “Explain.”

 “We attempted to recreate the village,” L says, “in order to…not overwhelm V so quickly.”

 J glances down at V then back up. “Yes, and I can see that worked out stunningly.”

 “I don’t understand.” L looks back and forth between the village and the still-shaken V. “If…if the environment is familiar, it should elicit feelings of comfort.”

 “Oh, no,” Patton murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment, “I messed up.”

 “Don’t worry,” the prince says quickly, “it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out.”

 “I think I understand.” Patton opens his eyes and looks up at V. “You thought this was a trick, didn’t you? That we’d pretended to take you in and then…brought you back.”

 The very idea coils hot and heavy in his gut, settling there like a horrible sickly weight. It only draws itself deeper when V nods, his mouth drawn tight.

 “What?” The prince’s cry shakes Patton’s core. “Why would—“

 Patton holds up a hand, cutting him off, even though he can feel the anguish of the others burning through the bond. Even J isn’t immune; the hand on V’s shoulder flexes in the glove and he steps a little closer.

 “And even if we didn’t,” Patton says brokenly, “even if we didn’t you—these…the only feelings you have about this place aren’t good ones.”

 V lowers his head in shame, his fingers flexing in the fabric of his tunic. The urge to run and wrap him up in a tight embrace makes Patton’s limbs tremble.

 “Get rid of it.”

 “What?”

 “Get rid of it,” Patton murmurs firmly to the prince, “bring us back to the field.”

 “N-no!”

 Patton’s eyes widen in surprise, and judging by J’s confused head tilt, he’s not the only one. Yet there V is, staring at him with a fierce look of determination, fire burning in his gaze despite the way he’s still curled around himself.

 “…’no,’ kiddo?”

 Patton knows he’s made another mistake the instant V’s eyes widen again. “W-wait, I didn’t mean—you don’t—that was a s-suggestion, not a—I didn’t mean to—I don’t want—“

 V’s hands shoot to his hair, tangling in the strands and pulling.

 “I didn’t mean to tell you what to do,” he manages finally, “please don’t be angry.”

  Oh, kiddo…

 “V,” Patton calls softly, “kiddo, we’re not angry.”

 He smiles kindly when V peeks out at him from a little gap in his fingers. “Y-you’re not?”

 “No, V, we’re not angry.” Patton places one hand flat against his chest. “You have my word.”

 It seems to do the trick, though not nearly as well as he would’ve liked. V’s hands slowly inch away from his face, twisting themselves back into his tunic. Patton smiles encouragingly.

 “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he assures, “I’m just a little curious why you didn’t want the village gone. If it’s…if it’s bothering you, then…”

 Patton shrugs. “Wouldn’t it be better?”

 “But you already…made it,” V mumbles, “so…”

 The prince huffs. “Please. It took barely a moment. I do hope you don’t think so lowly of my skills, sweetheart.”

 The corner of V’s mouth tugs up and oh, it’s the best thing Patton’s seen all day!

 “It’s no trouble,” the prince assures, “plus…I must confess I am not a fan. I mean honestly, the utter lack of craftsmanship, it’s truly astonishing.”

 “The point of this,” L says, making V look at him, “was to create somewhere you would feel more comfortable. This place—“ he gestures around— “was not exactly designed for mortals.”

 “But we shouldn’t have tried to anticipate what you want,” Patton adds, “and so there’s nothing wrong with getting rid of the village.”

 “Y-you mean this one…right?”

 “Well,” the duke mutters darkly. Patton can’t find it in his heart to scold him more than half-heartedly.

 “P-please don’t,” V stammers, “I…”

 “We won’t,” Patton assures, far more concerned about making V feel comfortable than any sort of retribution—however rightly deserved—for the denizens of the village.

 “Even if the duke does have a point, little mouse.”

 Patton glances exasperatedly at J, only to be met with an expression of innocent bewilderment. He raises an eyebrow. J simply shrugs. Patton’s gaze gets caught by V, still shifting a little and sending quick glances at the village.

  More pressing matters.

 “V,” he murmurs, smiling again when V’s gaze jumps to his, “is it alright if I come a little closer?”

 J’s brow quirks as V stiffens.

 “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

 V doesn't move, still wrapping his arms tightly around himself.

 “I’m sorry I scared you, that we scared you with this,” he continues, looking behind him to see agreeing nods from the others. He looks back to see V’s gaze losing a little of its frenzied edge. He smiles and gives a little wave. “Hey there.”

 V doesn’t wave back or smile, but he doesn’t flinch either. Patton takes that as a good sign.

 “You’re allowed to say no, V,” he assures, “that’s okay too.”

 Nothing. Patton’s gaze flicks to J and J nods.

 “What about this,” Patton says softly, “why don’t I move real slow, just a little, just so you can see how it feels, and then we go from there?”

 V nods.

 “I’m stepping a little closer, okay?” V lets him move a step closer. He crouches down again, keeping his hands in sight, still a good few feet away. “How are you doing, kiddo?”

 Patton laughs when V’s able to convey his annoyance with the question with a subtle change of expression. “Okay, so, bad question. Can I…” He hesitates. “Can come a little closer? Is that okay?”

 V nods carefully. “Y-you can—“ He cuts himself off.

 “Say it,” Patton coaxes, “go on, V, you can say it.”

 “You can…come all the way over,” V mumbles, “i-if you want.”

 Patton fights down the urge to jump up and race over, instead confining himself to a small smile.

 “Okay. I’m going to stand up and walk over to you. I’ll go slow so I won’t scare you. Okay?” V nods. “Okay. I’m going to stand up now.”

 He keeps his hands raised and slowly stands up, keeping himself slightly hunched over to make himself seem like less of a threat. To his dismay, but not his surprise, it isn’t very effective. Even hunched over, Patton still looms quite large, his shadow blocking the light from the forest. When he notices V flinching, he stops, letting him get used to the fact that he’s standing now.

 “Easy, easy, it’s okay.” He keeps up the constant litany of reassurances until he reaches V, carefully positioning himself so that V can look at him, just him, and not the village. It seems to do the trick, interrupting whatever feedback loop kept darting V’s gaze around the buildings, instead directing it at the various patched on Patton’s cloak.

 “You’re doing great, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, “thank you for letting me come over.”

 V shuffles again, sniffing and dropping his head. A moment later his shoulders shake and Patton can’t help the wounded noise that escapes his throat. J isn’t much better off, sliding neatly behind V to prevent anything from getting through the portal, even though they both know nothing will touch this one ever again.

 “Sweetheart,” Patton says softly, “oh, sweetie, are…is this still too much?”

 “S-sorry.”

 “Don’t apologize, sweetie, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

 “And please,” L calls, “do not be ashamed of crying. It is the mortal way of handling anything overwhelming, you need not feel embarrassed about dealing with it in a healthy way.”

 “Told you,” J murmurs.

 “Can I touch you, sweetie,” Patton asks softly, “can I touch you?”

 V nods shakily and Patton reaches out, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Here you are. Shh, you’re okay.” He moves his hand from her shoulder to his cheeks, wiping away a tear as it rolls down. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

 V hiccups a sob, barely stifled. Each one settles like a dead weight in his chest as V’s chin drives deeper and deeper into his chest.

 “You’re going to hurt yourself,” Patton says, gently cupping V’s chin in his hand and raising it, only to be dismayed to see his eyes glazed over and each breath sending him hurtling towards another panic attack. He takes his hands and places them on either side of V’s face, turning his head so he makes eye contact with him. “Hey, hey. Look at me, kiddo. Breathe.”

 The forest is quiet.

 “Shh, that’s it, just breathe for me.” He slides his hands down from V’s face to his neck, giving him a little less restriction.

 “Good job,” he murmurs, smiling at V as he begins to go limp. “Come here.”

 He coaxes V into his arms, letting his head fall against his collar as he shifts back to support his weight. He’s so…there. Not just in his body, a physical weight, but there’s such a layer of feeling that surrounds him that it presses down on Patton like another weight. He relaxes into Patton’s grip as he guides V to rest comfortably against him. He rubs V’s arms when he shivers, frowning at how cold he is. Steadying V with his hands and glancing up at J, he balances V against him before pulling away enough to shrug off his cloak, hushing him when V lets out a tiny whine. “Shh, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere. He’ll keep you upright.”

 He wriggles out of his cloak and drapes it carefully over V’s shoulders, smiling as it draws a sigh out of him and he shrinks under it. Wrapping his arms back around V, Patton lays his chin on top of V’s head and concentrates, trying to feel around for the sources of the fear and pull them away. V tucks his head against Patton’s collarbone. A damp patch grows on Patton’s shirt as he rocks V gently back and forth, shushing his cries.

 “Shh, don’t worry kiddo, we’re here for you,” he murmurs, “it’s okay.”

 He closes his eyes. Concentrates.

  There.

 “What are these,” he whispers, mostly to himself but to V as well, “these awful little things that are buzzing around you?”

 They really are awful. They’re these fuzzy little black things that hurt if you stare at them too long, always vibrating, strobing at horrible frequencies that create a sort of whine in the back of your ears. On their own, they really aren’t so bad, at least when he can catch one of them by itself, but V…

 V has thousands.

 Thousands of horrible black whiny clouds buzzing around his head, around his whole body, swallowing him in a storm. Patton’s seen them before, not nearly to this quantity mind you, but he has seen them, flitting about behind mortals. Wretched little beasties.

 “Are these…fears?” He freezes one in place, watching as it squirms in place. “Worries?”

  Concentrate.

 The cloud whines and dissolves. V’s breath catches.

 “There’s no need for these,” Patton murmurs, catching another one and dissolving it, “you have no use for them.”

 One by one he catches them, and one by one he makes them stop hurting V. They don’t want to go; they cling to each other, to V, to him in protest, yowling about whatever they want V to be so desperately afraid of, and it never makes Patton bat an eye. They’re hurting V, that’s all that matters. And Patton doesn’t like seeing V hurt.

 With each one he vanishes, V grows lighter and lighter in his arms, his sobs trailing off until his breath evens, only hitching ever so slightly. When he’s finished, V pulls away, looking up at him with wide eyes.

 “W-what did you do?”

 Patton smiles, gently giving V a squeeze. “Just cleaned you up a bit, kiddo.”

 “H-how?”

 “I can sense emotions and feelings,” Patton explains, “it’s kinda my job.”

 “…you’re the Heart.”

 “I am, good job.” He bumps his forehead lightly against V’s. “That means I can sense things that you feel and…help you along.”

 V chews on his lip. “…but I’m still scared.”

 “Oh, kiddo, I can’t fix that sort of thing. Well, I can, but that’s…invasive,” Patton says, “and I’d run the risk of hurting you more. No, no, I didn’t do anything like that. I’m not trying to take your feelings away. I just…”

 He brushes a thumb tenderly across V’s cheek.

 “…dusted you off a little.”

 The fluffy little bubble of relief that drifts along the path his thumb leaves is enough to make his whole chest glow.

 “Feel better?”

 “Yeah,” V mumbles, “um…thank you.”

 Patton kisses his forehead. “Of course, kiddo. Now…can we talk about what just happened?”

 V tenses.

 “You can say no,” J reminds.

 “…no, please?”

 Patton nods. “Okay. Can I then ask you something?”

 V nods, shifting a little in Patton’s grip. Patton opens his arms a little, enough for V to know if he wants to pull away he can, if he doesn’t, he needn’t. V takes a step back, wrapping his arms around himself.

 “We wanted to make the village for you so that you would have somewhere you wanted to stay,” he says softly, “and it’s okay that we got it wrong. Could you tell us what you do want?”

 “I’d be happy to make it,” the prince calls from over his shoulder—right, he’d somehow forgotten the others were still here— “just say the word.”

 “Me too!”

 “You guys,” V mumbles, “are the weirdest fucking fae I’ve ever heard of.”

 Patton giggles. “Thanks, kiddo. That’s an honor.”

 “…is it?”

 Patton softens, waiting for V to look at him to smile kindly. “It isn’t bad to be different or weird, sweetie.”

 “…oh.”

 “So,” the prince calls cheerfully, “what will it be? Castle? Tower? Cavernous ballrooms?”

 “Prince,” L chides lightly.

 “Take your time,” Patton soothes when V’s eyes blink vacantly, “you take all the time you need kiddo, to tell us what you want.”

 And oh, the unsure look on V’s face breaks his heart all over again. He looks so lost, like he’s been confronted with something he can’t hope to understand.

 “It’s alright if you don’t know,” he says softly, “it’s a lot to ask. But if it would be easier, you can tell us what you don’t want.”

 “…I don’t want to go back,” V mumbles, “please don’t make me go back.”

 “We won’t,” Patton promises, “we won’t.”

 Sure enough, by the time he’s stepped aside and turned around, the village is gone.

 The prince waves his hand again, dimming the natural light of the forest to something more tolerable for mortal eyes. Patton smiles. He does prefer their forest to any manufactured illusions, the prince or the duke make, if simply because it feels so alive.

 V seems to relax a little bit too; when Patton looks back, V’s shoulders aren’t pressed up against his ears anymore, his gaze tracing the little sparks of light that flit between the flowering trees. One of them flickers closer, darting past his face quickly, only for him to tentatively try and reach for it.

 “…what is this?”

 “It’s the forest, V,” Patton says softly, “this is where we live.”

 “How is it so…” V seems to struggle for the word he wants. “…alive?”

 “Magic,” the prince says with a wink. “No, really. That’s…that’s it.”

 “But it’s so…so…” V mutters in frustration. “I hate words.”

 “You’re not the only one, little mouse,” J murmurs, his hand still lingering on V’s shoulder, “words can be…difficult. You don’t have to use them if you don’t want to.”

 “That being said,” Patton says quickly, “you don’t have to be afraid to say things, kiddo. We won’t get mad.”

 V nods hesitantly. “Wait, so you all live here?”

 “Yep.”

 “H-how does that work? Do you, like…have separate…trees?”

 The duke immediately perks up. “I told you guys we should make treehouses!”

 “You have a treehouse,” L sighs, “that doesn’t mean the rest of us want one.”

 “Why not? It’s so much easier to defend!”

 “Only when we can’t fly.”

 “You guys can fly?” Patton hears V mumble to J. “What is going on?”

 “The others are getting excited again,” he hears J murmur back, “but I’m sure if you’d like to just ask Pat, we’d be happy to tell you.”

 Patton gives L a look that says ‘try not to let them destroy everything, please,’ and turns back to V, gently asking if he’d repeat his question.

 “We have different…rooms,” he decides on eventually, “even though they’re not as simple as your mortal conception of them. It’s more like…like…”

 Patton huffs, putting his hands on his hips. “Wow, words really are hard.”

 “Here here,” V mumbles.

 “Let me try,” J says softly, “it’s as if you have a picture, yes? And the picture is drawn over several sheets of paper. You can only view the complete picture by stacking all of them on top of each other, but you can take each piece of paper separately.”

 Patton blinks at him. V does too. J rolls his eyes. “Perhaps L would be able to explain it better. And quickly,” he says, glancing over Patton’s shoulder, it looks like they’re about to start fighting again.”

 “Guys!” Patton chooses to ignore the duke tucking a rather large weapon behind his back. “How do we explain how our rooms work?”

 L adjusts his glasses and holds out his hand. “V? Will you come here, please?”

 V hesitates.

 “I won’t hurt you,” L assures, “I won’t even touch you if you don’t want. I simply think this will be the best way to explain it.”

 “You’re not—you won’t—you won’t just take me there, will you?”

 L smiles at V’s nervous question. “You have my word I won’t.”

 V crosses the forest slowly, stopping just in front of L’s outstretched hand. Slowly, L raises his hand to face his palm toward V. “Can you hold your hand up to mine, please?”

 “W-what’re you going to do to me?”

 “Not a thing,” L says softly, “I’m going to explain how the rooms work by cycling through different layers of reality by aligning our hands.”

 Patton watches V slowly raise his hand to match L’s, smiling at how he presses his palm to L’s firmly.

 “Now,” L says, “just hold it still for me?” V nods. “Good. Reality as you understand it is one layer. It is one of the multiple worlds that exist in the same space. In this forest, we can move between them.”

 “How?”

 “Each one of us—“ L gestures to the other fae— “are linked with one of the layers. By drawing on that power, we can move between them.”

 L turns his hand slightly, his index finger pressing up against V’s middle finger. “This would be a different layer.”

 He turns it again, replacing his index finger with his thumb. “And this, another.”

 “S-so,” V murmurs, squinting at their hands, “which one is this?”

 “It’s not quite as…linear as this example,” L says, “there isn’t a set ‘right’ layer, nor must you travel through the other layers to get to the one you want.”

 “But then—“

 “Go on,” L encourages when V cuts himself off, “then…?”

 V swallows, his voice so low Patton has to strain to hear it. “Then how do I know which one’s the right one?”

 J tenses beside Patton at the uncertainty in V’s voice.

 “There isn’t a universal ‘right’ one, V, and there won’t be,” L says, quickly shushing V when he seems to react poorly to such a revelation, “but you don’t have to think of it that way.”

 Judging by the defiant hunch of V’s shoulders, he isn’t pleased by this answer. L seems to realize that and takes a tiny step closer.

 “V? Can you do something else for me?”

 V nods.

 “Interlace your fingers with mine.”

 V raises his head, confused, but does as L asks.

 “This,” L murmurs, indicating their hands, “is the layer we’re currently in. Your layer. The mortal layer. This is the one that will be most comfortable for you. You can go to the other layers, but it won’t always be as comfortable. That doesn’t mean you can’t go,” he assures quickly, “but if it helps, this one is the ‘right’ one, so to speak.”

 V stares at their clasped hands, giving L’s hand an experimental squeeze. L squeezes back.

 “C-can I see your rooms?”

 “Of course,” L says, “but perhaps not today, hm? This has already been a lot for you, hasn’t it?”

 V nods nervously. “S-sorry.”

 “Don’t fret,” L soothes, giving V’s hand one last squeeze, “we’re not angry. It’s perfectly understandable.”

 “Absolutely.” Patton glances around. Hmm…what’s the best way to do this? “Are you hungry, V?”

 Another nervous nod.

 “What kind of food do you like?”

 “Maybe not that question,” J murmurs when V seems to stutter again.

 L gently gets V’s attention. “When was the last time you ate?” When V can’t answer, he continues. “Your system won’t take well to eating large quantities of food right now, in that case. It would be better if you ate something small, easy on yourself, and then work up to larger meals, does that sound alright?”

 “Why don’t we do this, then,” Patton suggests when V nods, “J, you and the duke and I will start on the food. L, Prince, why don’t you help V make his room?”

 L gently takes V’s hand again, leading him toward the prince. The prince gives them a nod before speaking softly to V. Patton sinks into his room, only to lean on the nearest surface and sigh heavily.

 “Why are we not killing them?”

 “By all means,” J huffs, “do knock over absolutely everything, Duke.”

 “They starved him, they tortured him, they made him afraid of everything,” the duke growls, “they made him dependent on the sense of right and wrong.”

 “Yes, and right now you’re currently about to be dependent on your ability to not knock over everything.”

 “Pat agrees with me,” the duke defends, “don’t you Pat?”

 Patton busies himself with making a simple bread. Easy, like L said, nothing that will cause V’s system to freak out. He keeps his mouth closed because he knows if he opens it, he won’t be able to stop himself going feral either.

 “Of course I agree,” he says quietly after the bread’s almost done, “but I want to take care of V more than I want to raze that village to the ground.”

 “But—!”

 “Patton’s right,” J interrupts, “V wants everything to stop. If we go out and do that, it could make him even worse.”

 “Or it could make him better!”

 “We can’t afford to take that risk,” Patton says, kneading the bread with perhaps slightly more force than necessary, “especially not with a mortal.”

 The duke grumbles. “I don’t like this.”

 “I know.” Patton dusts his hands off. “Neither do we.”

 “If it’s any consolation,” J says, smirking, “I think it’s the first time V’s had anyone be so outraged at the thought of him hurt.”

 “Well,” the duke huffs, “good. I’m not stopping.”

 “I have no intention of asking you to.”

 “Good.”

 “Good.”

 Patton chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly. “Enough, you two.”

 “You need help?” The duke grins. “Get it? Knead?”

 “No, I dough-n’t,” Patton replies as J groans, “I’m all good here, kiddo. Thanks for asking though.”

 J eyes the small loaf of bread and the few fruits next to it. “Is that really all we’re going to give him?”

 “I’m going to make sure the food is available, but…” Patton sighs. “L’s right. You know he is. Too much and…”

 J fiddles with his gloves. “I don’t like this.”

 “Join the fucking club,” the duke huffs, draping himself over J’s shoulders. “We gotta wait here until Princey and L’re done with him, right?”

Patton nods.

 “Great. Help me think of more ways to fuck up the assholes who did this to V.”

 “Duke!”

 Luckily for everyone, not a few moments later, a door appears to Patton’s left along with three quick knocks.

 “Come in?”

 The door opens, revealing L and the prince, leading V into Patton’s ‘room.’ V looks around, spotting the duke still draped over J.

 “Oh, they do that all the time,” the prince says, “you’ll get used to it.”

 “You say as if you don’t do it as well, bro,” the duke sings.

 “Did you get everything set up, V?” Patton asks quietly, ignoring the others.

 V nods. “Thank you.”

 Patton tilts his head. “For what?”

 “F-for…” V stammers, his eyes widening. L quickly gets his attention.

 “You’re welcome,” he says softly, “we’re happy to help.” He gives Patton a look that says he’ll explain later.

 Patton pushes it aside, reaching for the food and setting it carefully in front of V. To his surprise, V doesn’t reach out for it right away, instead eyeing it warily.

 “Wrap it up, Pat,” the prince says, clapping Patton on the shoulder, “so V can take it with him.”

 “Wait, what?” Patton stares at him in confusion. “Where’re we going?”

 “You expect us to welcome this little darling into our forest and not give him the grand tour?” The prince holds an offended hand to his chest. “How dare you.”

 Patton’s about to open his mouth to argue that V should be resting, that’s the whole point of this, but something in the prince’s gaze tells him to leave it. So Patton carefully packs the food into a small bag, before handing it to V. And he can’t deny it sends a rush of warmth through him when V’s shoulders slump and he holds the bag securely.

 “So,” the prince says, sweeping across back to V’s side, “shall we begin? Duke, Pat, if you please.”

 L gives him a nod, quickly joining J and starting a hushed conversation. Patton simply shrugs and follows the duke and the prince out the door. He quickly realizes it’s not the only one; there are five doors in the forest near a small house. It’s very basic, nothing more than four walls and a roof with a simple door. That must be the place they made for V. Glancing at his own door as it closes behind him, he notes that each one is a different color. Pale blue for his own, a rich gold for J’s, bright red for the prince, deep green for the duke, dark blue for L. V seems more at ease now that he’s back in the forest. Pat smiles. Good, it’s good to see V already getting used to being here.

 J was right, the garden really did want him.

 He also realizes the prince has been very clever about their little party as they make their way around the forest, from the clearing, to the lake, back to the garden. The prince and the duke provide wonderfully distracting arguments and Patton is well-prepared to ask all the dumb questions so V has all the information he needs. Plus, it’s nice for him to stay close to V while the prince and the duke dash around in an effort to be so overly ridiculous there’s low amounts of pressure to take them seriously.

 At one point, they actually get V to laugh.

 They’re at the lake; it’s one of Patton’s favorite places in the forest. The prince has control of the area around the lake and the surface of the lake, the duke has free rein below. Sometimes, Patton will sit on one of the big lily pads and just let one of the duke’s creatures push him around. The surface of the lake is like a giant mirror, almost glass-like, with a few delicate ripples on its veneer. The prince, of course, has a small violet bird perched on his shoulder, a fawn nuzzling his hand. The duke, by contrast, doesn’t hesitate before diving into the lake, sending sparkling showers of water droplets every which way before re-emerging, grinning, held aloft by something Patton couldn’t hope to describe.

 There isn’t a doubt that V’s adorable little awestruck expression is the best thing Patton’s seen in a while. The way his fingers loosen their death grip on his bag of food, reaching out almost involuntarily to let the fawn sniff his hand, trying to hide to subtle hitch in his breath when a little pink tongue darts out and licks his fingers.

 “She likes you,” the prince says quietly, smiling at the fawn as it tries to get closer to V.

 “Is that why she licked me?”

 “I think so.”

 A second later, there’s a massive arc of water as something huge heaves its way onto the shore.

 “Duke!” The prince snaps away the water as quickly as he can. “Keep your slimy pets where they belong!”

 “Don’t be mean,” the duke says, patting the head of the massive tentacled beast with its head flopped onto the shore, “he’s just saying hi!”

 Patton looks at V, who…isn’t afraid of the massive head now lying beside him. Instead, he looks almost…curious?

 As the prince and the duke continue to bicker, V slowly reaches out his hand toward the creature. The creature inclines its head, letting V stroke along the strange bumps. Then it huffs loudly, spraying all of them with a viscous green goo.

 “Ah!” The prince cries out in horror as he’s splattered. “Duke!”

 The duke is too busy laughing to answer. Patton sighs, taking off his glasses to snap away the gunk. He puts them back on his face to chide the duke when he sees V.

 V’s laughing.

 It’s a quiet laugh, more of a slight hum than anything else, but V’s smiling and it sounds warm and rumbly and amazing and Patton can’t help muffling his happy noise at seeing V laugh. The prince seems to have the same reaction, stopping midway through his tirade and smiling softly at V.

 The duke promptly falls off the back of the creature in shock. Then his head pops back above water and he grins.

 “That means he likes you!”

 “I like him too,” V mumbles, still smiling as he examines the gunk on his hands, “…not so much this.”

 “Everyone’s got their opinions,” the duke shrugs, getting out of the water and shaking himself off like a dog, much to V’s amusement and the prince’s dismay, “but we should probably get you cleaned up, hmm?”

 “I-if—“ V’s gaze darts around to Patton— “is that okay?”

 “Of course it’s okay, V,” Patton smiles, “why don’t we go back to your room?”

 The prince leads them back, stopping once they’re in front of V’s four walls. He taps V’s less gooey shoulder gently. “Do you remember what L and I said about your room?”

 V nods hesitantly.

 “Would you like any help?”

 V glances around at them and Patton smiles encouragingly.

 “N-no.”

 The prince smiles and gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “Okay. That’s perfectly okay. If you change your mind, which is also okay, just knock on whoever’s door you want, okay? We’ll know it’s you and we’ll come.”

 “…thank you.”

 “Of course, V.” The prince deliberately turns around, snagging the duke by his shoulder and taking Patton’s hand. Patton gives V one last wave over his shoulder before the prince pulls him back through his door.

 L and J look up when they enter, standing from their seats. J’s hands are still worrying themselves a little and L adjusts his tie.

 “What did you tell him?” The prince’s tone makes Patton’s ‘paying attention’ glasses snap on real quick.

 “Not everything,” L says, “I was waiting for you.”

 “Can someone tell me what’s going on, please?” The duke nods enthusiastically.

 The prince and L exchange a glance before the prince gestures to L. L motions for them to take a seat.

 “I’m sure it will not come as a surprise to you that the…mortals who were unkind to V controlled his access to food and water very rigorously,” L begins, “nor will it shock you to learn that V is not used to any modicum of privacy.”

 It doesn’t, that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to hear.

 “We—“ L gestures between himself and the prince— “did our best to assure him that his room is his own space; none of us will enter it without permission and he reserves the right to send us out at any point he wishes.”

 The prince nods sharply. “And that he’s always allowed to say ‘no’ to things if we ask him.”

 J raises an eyebrow. “Please tell me you gave him access to food.”

 “Of course we did!” L nods in agreement. “He’s got a small garden and a tiny cupboard that connects to the pantry.”

 “So I can refill it from here?”

 “Or he can refill it himself.”

 Patton nods in approval.

 “That’s also what happens to his clothes,” L says, motioning to the other part of Patton’s space, “they’ll get deposited here when he wants them cleaned. We gave him some other clothes too.”

 “I’m sure you explained all this to him too, right?”

 L and the prince exchange a soft smile. “He asked for some of it,” L says, still smiling, “or at least brought up his concerns.”

 Patton claps happily. “Oh, good for him!”

 “Yes,” the prince murmurs, quickly sobering them with his low tone, “especially considering…”

 “Right.” L takes a deep breath. “Surely you know this will not be as easy as simply giving him these things and expecting everything to work out.”

 Patton tilts his head to the side. “It…it won’t?”

 “No,” J says smoothly, “it won’t. It will take time. Mortals can be…remarkably hard to alter once they’ve been so used to something.”

 A horrible sick feeling settles in Patton’s stomach again. He knows mortals are fragile, he knows that V has been hurt very, very badly, but the thought of it staying that way? When he doesn’t need to?

“He doesn’t know that yet,” J says patiently when Patton expresses as much, “and it’s going to take time for him to realize that. You said it yourself, we can’t just go in and fix everything. We need to let V do that himself.”

 “At the very least,” L adds, “we’ve been trying to give him the tools to start.”

 A soft thump makes them turn. Patton spots a small heap of dirty cloth on a nearby surface. He walks over and picks it up, fingering the worn stitches and the holes in the fabric.

 The duke peers over his shoulder. “It’s V’s clothes.”

 “He must be having a wash,” the prince says, “good. You absolutely drenched him.”

 “That wasn’t me! It was Oliver!”

 “What did you give him to wash with,” Patton interrupts. The prince shrugs.

 “Modified version of the basins we use. Plenty of water, hot and cold, soap, things to clean with. Towels. Drains by itself too, right into the garden.”

 “We gave him a proper room,” L assures, “a proper bed, a proper space.”

 “You should’ve seen him,” the prince mumbles, “I never thought I’d see someone get so worried about being told they were allowed their own space. Especially a mortal, all the ones I’ve known have been so obsessed with taking.”

 “You remember why, though.” As L speaks, the prince’s face darkens. Patton glances worriedly between them.

 “What?”

 L sighs. “It appears that…the mortals somehow convinced V that they were doing him…favors.”

 Patton barely has time to blink before the duke is feral again. He reaches out and wraps his arms around the writhing mass of tentacles, joined quickly by the prince and J, muttering softly to the duke until the tentacles retreat.

 L adjusts his glasses. “Quite.”

 “That’s why he freaked out when Pat asked what he was thanking him for,” the duke growls, “the sick fucks probably made him be specific too.”

 “Our priority,” L interrupts before the duke can convince the rest of them to go feral too—honestly, Patton’s already halfway there— “is to help V feel safe.”

 Patton nods, only partly listening as L keeps talking, turning the tunic over in his hands. It’s worn, very worn, and so thin that Patton can feel his fingers grind together when he rubs the fabric between them. Is this all V had? For how long? It looks so old…

 Wait. Is that…

 Patton lifts the tunic a little, rubbing at a dark stain. His eyes widen. J catches sight of it.

 “That better be blood.”

 At the mention of the word ‘blood,’ L stops. Slowly, he walks over, holding out his hand. Wordlessly, Patton hands it over. L takes it in his hands and if Patton looks very, very closely, his hands tremble.

 L takes a deep breath and hands the tunic back to Patton.

 “We cannot push,” he repeats with practiced calm, “we must make V feel safe first. And that means we must trust him.”

 Patton doesn’t like it. None of them do. But they know L is right.

 “And…with any luck,” L adds, “a good sleep and a regular meal should start helping him some more.”

 It should.

 It doesn’t.

 For a while, almost nothing changes. V still holds his food in a bag when Patton gives it to him. His eyes still dart around wildly whenever he goes on a walk with the prince or the duke. He still prefers to hide away in his room, coming out when they request, denying them access with a tinge of fear.

 His clothes still come back with stains.

 Patton would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. This isn’t how mortals should be, they should be sleeping, they should be eating. But V seems to doggedly stay the same, still as tired and fearful as the day he stumbled into the garden. When Patton confronts L about it, L says that if he didn’t know any better, he’d say V wasn’t sleeping.

 Patton doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to shatter this tenuous bond, not now, not ever. But he’s worried.

 There’s always a faint buzz in Patton’s chest that tells him where V is. He tries not to pay attention to it, give the kiddo his privacy, make sure he feels like he can come to Patton when he wants to, not when Patton wants him to. He takes care to watch how he talks around V, moves around V, is as gentle as he can be. The faint buzz seems to settle a little better whenever V’s around him.

 Then one day it spikes. Horribly.

 Patton doubles over, pressing a hand hard to his own chest as the whine sharpens, pushes, threatens to snatch his breath away. Instantly, he looks for it, trying to find it, comfort it, come on, kiddo, tell me what’s wrong—

  V.

 Where’s V?

 Patton rushes out of his door, only to see V’s door wide open. With trembling footsteps, he slowly approaches, his heart in his throat, one hand still pressed firmly to his chest.

 “V?” He calls softly, over and over, not wanting to intrude, but getting no response. “V, kiddo?”

 He hesitates at the threshold. This is V’s space. They promised. He closes his eyes. Concentrates.

 The pain isn’t coming from here.

 He opens his eyes and focuses. There.

 It’s one of those horrid little black clouds, buzzing away from a path leading deeper into the forest. Patton follows the noise until he’s wading through the clouds, pushing them out of the way, swatting the ones he can, until he sees V.

 His heart aches as he takes in the absolute swarm threatening to choke the poor thing, curled up as he is at the base of a big tree. Patton gets a little closer, then crouches down and carefully, oh so carefully, pushes.

 “V?”

 V’s head jerks up, his eyes as wide as a startled fawn’s, his head jerking around until his gaze lands on Patton. Patton holds up his hands, smiling softly.

 “Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, still pushing at the swarm, “it’s okay. You just look at me, okay? That’s all you gotta do, just look at me.”

 V looks. The swarm rushes in, trying to get between Patton and V but Patton focuses, the few clouds that come in between them disappearing into quick plumes of smoke. With each one that vanishes, the others seem wary, leaving V free to stare at Patton.

 “Good,” Patton murmurs, “you’re doing really good, kiddo. Can you take a deep breath for me? In…and out…in…and out…good job, kiddo, just like that.”

 The whine in Patton’s chest starts to die down, the rest of him aching to reach out and take V in his arms. The poor thing looks so scared…

 “P-Pat?”

 “Yeah, V,” Patton says instantly, “I’m right here, you want me closer?”

 V reaches out a trembling hand and Patton doesn’t hesitate.

 V clings to his cloak like a lifeline, still curled up in a ball, just his one hand sticking out. Patton lets V tug him close, huddling around him at the base of the tree, softly murmuring to him.

 “Shh, shh, kiddo,” he says, trying to center his shield to keep the worst of the swarm out, “you’re doing so good, you just keep breathing for me, okay?”

 It takes a long time. Much longer than Patton would like. But eventually, when the last of the whining has faded to a confused buzz, V’s hand relaxes, the fabric still all bunched up from the force of his grip.

 “S-sorry,” he mumbles.

 “You don’t have to apologize, kiddo,” Patton soothes immediately, “you did the right thing.”

 V looks up at him, eyes wide and rimmed red. “…I did?”

 Patton smiles. “You did. You did so well, you breathed, you asked for what you wanted. You did so well, kiddo.”

 And oh does it hurt to see how much just that one little piece of praise means to V, and how little he must’ve received.

 Patton knows he’s not supposed to push. But then V reaches for him again with trembling hands and he can’t help himself.

 “Come here, sweetie,” he murmurs, pulling V into a gentle hug, “there you go…you just breathe for me, okay? You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to worry, you don’t even have to think if you don’t want to. You just breathe…”

 As he rocks V gently back and forth, he runs his hand down V’s head, across his shoulders, down to his back. V hisses and tenses when Patton’s hand touches something.

 “…V?”

 “Don’t be mad,” V stammers instantly, pulling away, “d-don’t be mad.”

 Patton raises his hands. “I’m not mad, kiddo, I promise. I’m not mad and I’m not going to hurt you.”

 The whine sharpens again as V tugs the tunic tightly around himself. Patton watches, concern written plainly across his features. He waits. Waits. Waits. Until…

 “…I need help,” V whispers, his head almost buried in his arms, “please.”

 “Of course,” Patton coos instantly, “of course, V, I’ll help you, what do you need?”

 “C-can we go to m-my room?”

 “Yes, sweetheart, we can go to your room. Do you feel up to walking?”

 V clutches himself tighter. “…in a minute.”

 “Take your time, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere.”

 In a moment, V lets his head fall back against the tree and takes a deep breath. In another, he pushes himself to his feet. A few more and they’re standing outside V’s door.

 “You can change your mind, kiddo,” Patton says gently when V hesitates, “I won’t be mad.”

 For a moment, he thinks V’s going to say no, Patton can leave, please, then he clenches his jaw and reaches out to take Patton’s hand. He grips it firmly and lets V pull him into the house.

 “…can you shut the door?”

 Patton does as bid, having a quick glance around, making a note to commend the prince and L for their job. It’s a very simple house, but it’s cozy. He refocuses on V, who has his back to him, clutching the sides of his tunic.

 V’s shoulders shake. “…it hurts, Pat.”

 “Where,” Patton murmurs, “where does it hurt?”

 “My…my back.”

 “Your back, kiddo? Can I come look?” V nods, bowing his head. “Thank you, V.”

 Patton walks over slowly, making his footsteps loud and obvious, so that he won’t surprise V. “Can I touch you, kiddo?”

 “…please don’t hurt me.”

 “I won’t, sweetie,” Patton murmurs, “I promise. Can I lift up the back of your tunic?”

 “Y-yeah.”

 “Thank you.” Taking the material gently in hand, Patton starts to lift it up slowly.

 “W-wait!”

 Patton freezes. V’s breaths grow ragged, clutching himself tighter.

 “I can leave if you—“

 “No!”

 V breathes. Breathes. Patton’s heart stays in his throat, holding still, trying to project as much safety as he can. It takes a few more heart-wrenching seconds before V shudders.

 “O-okay. You can lift it up now.”

 “Thank you,” Patton murmurs, starting to move again. He manages to tuck the end of the tunic around V’s collar, exposing his back.

 And the scars.

 Patton knew some whipped other mortals, knew that cruel mortals used their horsewhips liberally, but never had he seen the end result. Certainly not like this. Gruesome comets streak across V’s back of red and silvered white. The skin wheezes and stretches as he breathes. Some looked old. Some still wept, crying sluggish and lumpy tears of blood.

 “S-sorry,” he hears V mumble, “I’m sorry.”

 “V,” Patton says quietly, “V, I need you to listen to me for a moment.”

 V nods.

 “You don’t have to apologize,” Patton says firmly, “not for this. Never for this. This is not your fault, it will never be your fault. And I will never be angry at you for it.”

 V’s back shudders with the weight of Patton’s words. Then his hands slowly drop to his sides. Patton lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

 “I can’t reach them,” V mumbles, “I…I need help.”

 “Thank you for letting me help,” Patton says, lifting his hand and letting it glow, “these won’t take a moment to heal, you won’t be able to—“

 “No, don’t!” Patton pauses as V cries out. “Don’t heal them, please, not completely, I need—I need to have them.”

 Patton’s blood runs cold. “Why do you need to have them, V?”

 “I—I—“

 Patton glances around, spotting a stool. “Here,” he murmurs, summoning it quickly, “sit down, honey, you’re shaking.”

 V sits, hunching over, bearing his back for all to see, the scars wincing horribly as he does so. Patton stays close, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder, just so V knows he’s there, that nothing will startle him.

 “You don’t have to explain in detail if you don’t want,” Patton assures, “but…I would like to know why you don’t want them healed all the way.”

 V mumbles something. Patton squeezes his shoulder.

 “I can’t quite hear you, is it okay if I come a little closer?” At V’s nod, Patton crouches next to his head. “Thank you. Can you say it again for me?”

 “If…if I don’t have them,” V whispers, “it’s like—it’s like it didn’t happen. It’s like I’m—I’m crazy, I’m wrong, I don’t—I can’t—“

 Oh. Patton swallows. “You need them to remember,” he says softly, “to remind yourself that you survived.”

 V nods.

 “Oh, sweetie, thank you for telling me. I won’t make them go away, I promise. Would you like to at least make them stop hurting you?”

 V nods again. “I…I can’t sleep. They hurt.”

 Patton, who had stood up and begun lightly running his hand to close the wounds, frowns. “What about sleeping on your stomach or your side?”

 V shakes his head quickly. “Can’t. It’s bad. I can’t—can’t do anything then.”

 Right. Being on his stomach would put him in such a vulnerable position…and if he doesn’t want to…

 “V,” Patton says, gently stroking an unmarred patch of skin with his thumb as he works, “do you not feel safe enough to sleep here?”

 V’s back tenses under his hand and Patton rubs a soothing circle into it.

 “It’s okay if you don’t, kiddo,” he says softly, “I’m not angry, I’m just curious.”

 “…sorry.”

 “Don’t apologize, sweetie, you haven’t done anything wrong. This is still new to you, you’re still coming to terms with the fact that you’re safe now, you’re somewhere else, away from them.”

 “B-but…” V shudders again. “Y-you’ve been so nice and you haven’t hurt me at all but I can’t help feeling like—like—“

 “…it’s only a matter of time?”

 “…yeah.”

 Patton hums, thinking as he finishes. He takes a damp towel and softly asks V if he can clean him off a little. As he rubs the soft towel in soothing motions, he says, “I can’t make all your fears go away, kiddo, nor can I tell you you shouldn’t be afraid. It’s okay that you’re afraid, really. We’ll be here to help you.”

 “Y-you will?”

 Patton gives him one last pat before he gently lowers the tunic and lays the towel aside. He walks around to the front and crouches, tucking a hand under V’s chin and gently encouraging him to make eye contact.

 “Yes, V,” he promises, “we’ll be here.”

 V’s gaze, so horribly unsure and scared, has just the smallest bit of hope in it, and that’s enough for Patton. He smiles, only grinning wider when V hesitantly smiles back.

 “You also don’t have to sleep here,” Patton says, “you can sleep anywhere you like.”

 An adorable wrinkle forms between V’s brows. “Really?”

 “Yeah, kiddo.” Patton gestures around. “We made this so you could have your own space, but it’s okay if you don’t feel like sleeping here. It’s okay if you never want to sleep here.”

 He reaches up and gently rubs at V’s chest, right over his heart.

 “You sleep wherever you feel safest, okay, kiddo?”

 “Okay.”

 Patton smiles. “Good. Good job, kiddo, you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

 He stands, guiding V’s chin up too until he can lean down and lightly kiss his forehead. “Do you want anything else?”

 “N-no,” V mumbles, “I’m good. Thank you.”

 “Always.”

 Patton leaves V’s room, carefully shutting the door behind him, before opening the door to his own and going inside. As he goes, he finds the latest bloody tunic and washes it personally.

 Slowly, he dips the fabric into the water, scrubbing persistently at the stain. No more. No more. Never again. Never again.

 No one will touch V again. Nothing will ever make those wounds on his back bleed. Not on his watch.

 “Pat?”

 “In here,” Patton calls, hanging up the tunic and going to meet the others. L stands in the corner, J by his side. The prince swings around quickly when he enters, pulling up the duke by his shoulder. “Thank you for coming so quick.”

 “Of course,” L says instantly, “it was important.”

 Patton tells them what he’s learned, leaving out any parts that V confessed to him personally. He won’t tell V’s story for him, just tells the others about things he learns to take care of him. As to be expected, they’re not happy about it.

 “What else can we do,” the prince cries, “to make him feel safe? Are we not—are we not doing enough?”

 “We’re doing all that we can,” L says, even as he nervously adjusts his tie, “but…it will take time. The fact that V feels comfortable enough to tell us this already speaks volumes. We must…simply continue being patient.”

 “But if he’s not sleeping,” the duke argues, then—

 “L is right,” Patton says, even as the duke grumbles, “we just have to…be patient.”

 J reaches out, taking one of their hands in one of his. He squeezes, draws them closer. They wrap their arms around each other, buzzing gently. Patton knocks his head lightly against the duke’s and rests his head on J’s shoulder.

 They knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He’s not sure they realized just how hard it would be. But they’ll figure it out. They will. For V.

 As it turns out, maybe they’ve made more progress than they thought.

 The prince sends out a call the next morning, saying V’s not in his room. The duke tears off around the forest, J heads for the garden. L makes for the lake, Patton stays behind in case he comes back. But just as he’s grabbing a sack of food to give to V just in case they find him, he hears something soft in the pile of clean, dry clothes. He frowns, walking over, only to see—

 Patton’s breath catches in his throat and he smiles so wide his cheeks ache.

 V is curled up in the warm pile, clinging to one of J’s cloaks and one of Patton’s shirts draped around his shoulders. For the first time since Patton’s seen him, his face is slack, free of any stress or tension. He looks young, peaceful.

 It’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

 Yeah, he thinks as he lets the others know he’s found V, everything’s okay, we’ll figure it out.

[umaficwriter]

SOUVENIR IS AMONG US!

KALIJAH SMUT DARINGS! 

I was feeling like shit and started this weeks ago, finally came to finish it and kinda don’t give a damn about how it turned out, still, hope you like it! 

You can read it on AO3 or FFNET or even, down below this lovely gifs. 

The light breeze of a New York’ spring night passed through Katherine mahogany curly strands as she admired Jane and Greenwich street down ten floors below. She engulfed a full breath, filling her lungs with the not so clear night air, cigarette smoke coming from the party on full swing behind her.

The balcony was empty. She had compelled anyone that came in her direction away, so it would stay that way.

Finally, Katherine Pierce had piece of mind.

She had run for so long, firstly from her past in Bulgaria, then from Klaus and all that his figure entailed, then she ran from him when he found her. And then she had made her escape when he failed her once again.

Elijah Mikaelson.

Not her biggest mistake, nor regret, but close enough to discomfort to make chills arouse in her body when she recalled his figure. His suits represented an armor she once thought she would be able to penetrate. Oh, was she wrong.

For he could never be truly hers.

Elijah was like an expensive gift you bought someone, just to regret later you gave it away when in fact you wanted it to yourself, when on his part. he seemed to consider her, them a disposable souvenir.

New York back in August, tenth floor balcony Smoke is floating over Jane and Greenwich street

 Katherine leaned over the steel railing, aiming her vision to the busy Big Apple streets. Her heightened senses catching the environment around her. The faint smell of putrid trash from the alley couple blocks away, the blinding headlights of cars so tiny from where she stood. The wind picking up the hairs on her arms, giving her body an enjoyable hum. The cigarette smoke entering the balcony from the lounge party behind her, the smell of sweat and sex lingering in the air coming from the humans inside the giant apartment that wasn’t hers.

She should go back down to hell; she was its Queen after all. Mystic Falls people had been so naïve believing she would die after the tunnels caught fire…

She was Katherine Pierce, a survivor, of the upscale kind, caring for her life, being it as a vampire or otherwise.

She had woken up, without Stefan, completely naked in the throne that had been hers for sometime now.

A smile had creeped itself on her features, her limbs stretching as if she was a sated cat after a long afternoon nap.

Since then, she had given up on tormenting that filthy gang. Stefan was truly dead, although not in Hell, for Katherine’s dismay. She wished she could enslave him for eternity, albeit looked like it wouldn’t happen.

Shrugging, Katherine looked over her shoulder to the gathering inside the condo. She didn’t know anyone there, as expected, she didn’t live in this world anymore. She was just passing by the human land, and soon enough, she would go back to Hell to ruin her tormenting souls even more.

Another strong breeze floated the NYC night, and that was when she felt it.

At first, only a discomfort in the pit of her stomach, similar of when she was being followed, or observed. Case being the latter tonight.

Goosebumps from your wild eyes when they're watchin' me

The smell the wind brought was rich blood, expensive cologne, leather from Italian shoes, moving in her direction.

Her unliving heartbeat scaled, for she knew very well whom was walking inside the recently opened balcony glass’ doors, bringing the blasting music to her ears.

Katherine didn’t dare uttering words, she maintained her position as the man closed the doors behind him, muffling the sound from the party once more.

Was he to think she was her doppelganger?

Katherine would prefer he did not make that mistake. She also knew he would not.

His presence was enough to make shivers run down her spine. Katherine wasn’t fazed by what they had in the past. She had decided to bury those feelings deep inside, still he awoke a brutal wave of desire inside her. And as a supernatural creature, her emotions were as heightened as of a vampire, if not more, considering she fed from souls as well as blood. The latter just for reminiscing the thrill of the hunt.

Shivers dance down my spine and head down to my feet

The hot night wind picked up her skin and she hugged herself, running her hands through her arms, before directing her speech at him.

“The noble, family-oriented brother so far from home. I wonder why is that?” her voice was laced with sarcasm, although Elijah picked up a faint tone of hurting. He couldn’t blame her.

After Niklaus’ death, Elijah had bid his family goodbye and decided against settling in New Orleans. Marcel had claimed his throne back, for being king had never been Elijah’s call.

Hope was attending the Salvatore Boarding School and he didn’t see the need to disturb his niece education, still he visited her and even took her to vacations when the time called for it.

Elijah had chosen traveling the world instead, although always coming back to the US for his supernatural business, New York to be precise.

The city always brought good memories into his troubled mind.

It reminded him of the second woman he had loved. So deeply, her name remained engraved in his heart and soul.

Elijah was aware he didn’t have any right to claim her, nor search for Katerina, so he had not.

He had talked to Alaric once about her whereabouts and it was then he had discovered of her last attempt in destroying them. They believed she had died in the fire.

Elijah never had.

She hadn’t the first time in 1864, she wouldn’t have this time around.

Still, imagine his surprise when he caught her silhouette in the veranda at a party one of his associates was throwing.

He wasn’t to attend, he never did. Petty, unimportant things he would justify. Except, this night he was strangely bored by his usual book and wine program, hence his presence.

Elijah couldn’t say he regretted it.

From the moment he walked into the large apartment, loud music and abusive expanse of drugs had surrounded him. The Original had gone to the bar and ordered various doses of whiskey, before his business subordinate had found him, urging him to mingle around the gathering, and have a proper drink.

Elijah had bled various wrists inside his glass, being slightly intoxicated by substances within the blood he fed from.  

And that was when he saw her.

Alone over the balcony, her slender body hugged by a lace black dress, her hair in soft waves adorning her stance and stopping over the middle of her spine.

That was, without a shadow of doubt, Katerina Petrova.

“Niklaus is dead,”

“I know,” she turned around to finally face him. “Lucifer fed from his soul,” Elijah saw the faintest of smiles quirking over her lips.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I assure you, he doesn’t remember who he is, so it’s no fun torture him,” she justified, for she knew that was what he wanted to know. “Although, he deserves it anyway, for everything he caused me,”

Elijah looked down at his expensive shinny shoes.

“Apologies are never going to fix that,”

“No, they won’t,” agreed the brunette woman.

“And what you’ve been up to?” the trivial question floated from the man’s mouth as he moved beside her and leaned his back over the steel banister.

Katherine mirrored his position with her wine glass in hand and almost scoffed with his bluntness. It was clear he already knew what she had been up to.

“You already know, skip the small talk, what is it you want from me?” she questioned before downing the last of her drink, setting her glass over the nearest surface. “I mean, aside from everything you’ve already taken, obviously,”

He deserved that; he also would take it.

“I’ve got word you’ve been ruling over Hell, although I was never certain of the veracity in this tête-a-tête,”

She rolled her eyes. Elijah was much smarter than that.

“You want to know about my line of work?” she asked a little taken aback, after all, what kind of mundane questioning was that?

“Well, you don’t seem too keen talking about our past, do you, Katerina?” he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

She gave him that credit.

He wanted a civil conversation? She could do that.

“I feed from blood just for the rush of it, although what I really need, all inhabitants from Hell for that matter, to survive is: souls.”

He nodded in understandment. “Any soul?”

Katherine shook her head “Supernatural souls,”

The pair didn’t utter a word for a little while.

“How’s your life without your brother?” she questioned. For anyone knowing their history, would claim she was only being cruel. Maybe a little bit yes, but Katherine really wanted to know how he felt.

Maybe she refused her devoted heart from breaking, but she still held Elijah dear. The Petrova only had a different way of showing it.

“Never thought life could be this calm,” he honestly answered, a ghost of a smile dancing in his features.

She smiled and turned her face at him.

“Do you miss him?” she already knew the answer, still she couldn’t avoid it from going out there.

“You already know the answer to that, Katerina,”

“True,”

“At first, I couldn’t stop thinking about him,” Elijah prompted and crossed his arms and legs in front of him. “but then, time has passed, and grief ran its course…” he paused “now he’s a pleasant and hurtful memory,”

“Just as me, I presume?”

He turned his upper body at her, unfolding his arms and passing his hands through his short brown hair.

“Just as you were half an hour ago,” he confirmed.

“You really did give up on us, didn’t you?”

He let out a heavy shudder “I couldn’t promise you anything, they’re were broken words, like stiches. It was shattered glass we could not put back together to perfection, so I let you be,” she didn’t turn her head back at him. “I’ve never forgotten about you, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

“You never came to say goodbye,” he didn’t respond to that “you know, Damon showed me a version of you with me, when I was in my deathbed, then you dissipated into his face and he promised he would kill you,”

“I’d like to see him try,”

“He’s human now,”

Elijah seemed surprised in hearing that piece of news; Alaric had never mentioned that, also he had never asked.

He turned to face the sky and the street ten floors down, she didn’t mirror his posture this time.

“What should I call you? To summon you.”

She let out a chuckle.

“That’s not how it works, Elijah,”

His name floating from her lips, made him aim his looks at her and smirk in amusement.

“You didn’t respond me, what is it Katherine and Katerina do?”

The woman looked down at her Jimmy Choos’ and folded her arms in front of her lace covered chest.

“Katherine rules Hell with iron fists, has no mercy whatsoever, never had, but when she comes up to the land of the living, she drinks nice wine, walks long distances…”

“What about Katerina?”

“She cooks,” they both smiled at that “and read lots of romance novels that remind her of what she never had,”

“You did have love,”

“You, then Stefan, then you again,” she pointed out unfolding her arms and counting on her fingers to emphasize. “and look how that turned out,”

Elijah looked away back into the beautiful night.

“What is it you want, Elijah?” it was her turn to question.

“Right at this moment?”

She turned her head in his direction. His eyes were locked with hers, his nose almost touching hers, his breath dancing in her face.

“Yes,” she whispered looking down through her lashes, just to look inside his eyes once more.

“You,” he whispered back and didn’t gave her time to refuse him as he advanced his lips to touch hers in a long kiss.

Katherine’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as their kiss deepened, his tongue invaded her mouth in a ferrous battle while his arms circled her waist in a vice grip, bringing her closer with nothing in between them aside from their clothes.

Elijah let out a groan when she bit his lower lip hard making it bleed, which she latched on looking up at him through her long lashes. He hissed and used one of his hands to grip the rail when she descended one of hers to the front of his trousers, fondling his half-hard member.

“Katerina,” he nibbled on her earlobe, while he moved her hand. His whisper sounding needy, and that was what he was indeed.

Elijah moved his mouth to her neck descending to the feminine jaw, ‘till he reached her plump lips again, but Katherine had other plans in mind.

The brunette woman pushed him away, until his back hit the far corner of the veranda. Elijah new what was to come. Usually, he would give her pleasure first, but she looked irrefutable into having him the way she wanted.

Katherine unzipped his slacks while attacking his mouth, his hands gliding along her slim arms, arousing modest shudders from her.

You're giving me chills at a hundred degrees

 She separated herself from his mouth and descended her body, kneeling in front of him. Freeing his length from its cloth prison, Katherine looked up at him and smirked deviously.

“Now you’ve summoned me, I must show you the extent of my abilities,”

Elijah smirked back at her, and it transformed into a board smile when he felt her hot mouth on him.

Her lips surrounding his penis felt amazing. Her skilled tongue swirling around him, making him murmur with excitement, while she bobbed her head making him harder than he was before.

His member pulsating inside her mouth made Katherine heart beat faster, he was delicious, and the sensations she was causing him, the sounds he was making as he slowly let himself relax, encouraged her to suck him harder and faster.

Her mouth left his member, as Elijah grabbed the back of her head, moving her face away from his lower region and bringing her to him, to engulf her in a passionate kiss.

Elijah spun her around and made her sit on the steel railing. With a swift move, he moved her panties away and ran his fingers through her folds, feeling how ready she was, he inserted two fingers, while she gripped his suit clad arms with such force Elijah didn’t know if it would heal as fast as it should.

The Original kept his slow pace, and when he felt her walls clenching his digits, he removed them from her, receiving a disapproving wail.

Katherine reopened her eyes only to close them shut, as Elijah replaced his fingers for his engorged shaft, filling her up with a strong thrust.

“Oh God!” she proclaimed and held his shoulders tighter.

“If saying that was wrong before, I can’t imagine how much more it is now,” he mocked as he kissed her neck and Katherine smirked, sighing as he moved almost all out of her, just to pump back in with another hard thrust.

She guided her mouth to his neck and moved his shirt collar away, biting him hard, while he started moving frenetic into her, searching their deliverance.

As their breathing shallowed signalizing their approaching climax, Elijah moved them to the glass doors.

Neither giving a damn about someone watching them.

Katherine’s back hit the surface hard, while she let out a moan appreciating the pain and feeling Elijah’s penis never leaving her aching core.

The man stopped his pace and observed the woman in his arms.

Her chest moving up and down, her face flushed and her lower lip between her teeth.

Katherine opened her doe orbs and looked straight into his.

All sounds dulled around. Her blood pumped hard against her hot skin.

“Tell me what you want,” he prompted in a throaty whisper, his whiskey-blood-laced breath hitting her face, his words transforming her insides into puddle.

She smirked and leaned her head ‘till her mouth touched his earlobe, pulling it with her teeth.

“I want you to finish what you started and fuck m-“

Elijah thrusted deep while Katherine swallowed her words.

An almost animalistic groan left her lips while he continuedly kept going, the hot friction creating a delicious sensation, building more and more, until the stars in the night sky mingled with the ones behind her closed eyelids.

Katherine didn’t speak his name when she came, although he whispered hers in a prayer to the devil herself.

His seed ran down her thighs as he collected himself and helped her lower her dress.

Neither elaborating on what had just happened.  

Calling your name, the only language I can speak Taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

 They met again two months later.

Mid October’ sundown shone beautifully over New York skyline while Katherine Pierce sashayed into the luxurious hotel lobby.

Elijah had invited her into his apartment in the 5th avenue, although the she-devil wanted to keep things carnal only, and frequent his place was opposite to that.

So, she had suggested a random hotel.

Knowing full well he would choose the one they’d stayed when looking for the Cure a lifetime ago.

Sunset tower lobby, waiting there for me

 And there he stood.

In all his glorified tailoress. Armani suit, combed back hair, elegant and subtle. Not giving away what was about to happen a few floors up in just a couple instants.

At the sound of high heels on the marble floors, Elijah looked up, smiling at the figure approaching.

He was hopeful she would come, as a good serve he waited so. Although regarding the possibility she could not.

Fortunately, he had been wrong.

They don’t greet using words, but he ghosts a hand on the small of her back, as he guided them to the elevator. Her hand grazes his upper thigh when they enter the gold metal box, he stands behind her, hovering over his new favorite thing in the world.

Guess she always has been, he only had just remembered one of the reasons why.

Katherine waits for the elevator to shut its double doors, before turning her neck to look over her shoulder, encountering his face inches from hers.

She smirks with the proximity that wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.

She leans up and captures his lips with hers in a sensual kiss. Her tongue darts out to touch his and that’s when Elijah moves them to the lift’s wall, his hands multiplying as he tried and touch her every inch at the same time.

Katherine’s head hangs back as he explores her neck with his mouth, only a hint of his fangs coming out to play and that pulls a moan from her throat.

When the transport dings its destination, he reluctantly breaks their contact, and lets her out into the presidential floor first.

In the elevator, fumble for your key Kissed in every corner, Presidential Suite

Opened a Bordeaux from 1993

 When Elijah opens up the room’s door, contrary of what Katherine thought, he does’t jump right back at where they left.

He aims his steps to the light’ switch and dims it, leaving the room in a comfortable yellow glow.

Outside the twilight shows itself purple and orange, subtly letting the night in.

Elijah goes for the glass’ center table, and only then she notices the wine bottle as well as two glasses siting there.

He had thought everything through then, huh?

What did he think this was?

A reconciliation encounter?

Even with those questions inside her head, she collected her tongue and accepted the wine glass when he offered it to her.

“My favorite,” she quips after tasting the grape fermented juice.

He sheepishly smiles at her , downing his own drink.

Putting her glass aside, she goes to him. Her walk purposeful, her heeled feet tapping on the hardwood floors, her hips swaying, and Elijah appreciates the sight.

Elijah deposits his glass by the side table and backings until he reaches the king sized bed.

“And now what?” he quips, his voice low and husky as he leans back, sitting on the mattress, his chin up high to face her standing figure.

“I though you had it all figured out, my Lord,” she taunts, tilting her head and smirking at him.

Elijah chuckles and meets her cockiness.

“Oh, but I do,”

Katherine’s eyes go wide, her lips forming an ‘o’.

“Is that so?” she pushes and leans herself forward, her hands gripping his parted knees.

Elijah’ smile doesn’t leave his face as he contemplates her mannerisms.

Katherine’s face is closer now, her wine hot breath blows on his face, as he looks through his lashes at her plump lips.

How he missed touching her.

But he lets her have her fun, looking back into her cocoa orbs.

Like a cat she’s slow on her actions, calculating every slight move while she climbs in bed straddling his thighs.

Her eyes never leave his and their wordless communication turns her on just as much as his touch.

Speaking of, why wasn’t he?

“Afraid I’m gonna burn you?”

“If anything is I who burns for you, Katerina,” he justifies, his head going to the hollow of her neck and shoulder, grazing his teeth there.

She hisses with the caress and her hands travel from his knees to his shoulders, moving his suit jacket away from his frame.

With his tongue darting out to taste her neck, Elijah whispers in her ear

“Delicious just as the forbidden fruit,”

“Rich, since you’re tasting the devil herself,”

He chuckles again and takes a yelp out of her sinking his fangs deep into her flesh and vamp speeding them to the nearest wall.

The coherence escapes the doppelganger as the sensations of shared blood curse through her body.

Her legs are wrapped strongly around her lover’s waist and his member is pressing between her jean-clad legs, and it feels like heaven, more so when unconsciously, Elijah starts to thrust forward into her.

“Oh, yes…” her breath is caught up her windpipe.

The sharp nails tinted black she possesses go to his man shirt and tear the fabric apart to find his bare back and scratch it with will.

His groan as he moves his head from her jugular is guttural and makes her chill in excitement.

Elijah’s fangs are out, his lips red from her blood and the veins around his eyes are prominent.

He’s the beast she wants and when she goes to kiss him, he trumps her, enveloping them in a bruising lip locking.

The Original dismisses her jacket and blouse like rag, although leaves her bra on, vamp speeding them back to bed, throwing her over the soft surface.

Katherine gets rid of her jeans and boots as the man does the same with his garments, leaving only his boxers on.

If she was to be the she-devil, he certainly was a Greek God.

Elijah’s body was built, strong and as his fangs subsided, his beauty screamed old world elegance, even more so alluring with his bloody face.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her hungrily, his chocolate irises almost didn’t show such was his lust.

Katherine knew better than thinking her eyes were any different.

She knelt over the bed. Her hair tousled, lips parted, black lace adorning her flawless body.

Neither moved further.

It was a battle of sorts.

Who would give in first?

Katherine didn’t like losing.

Although she despised wasting time.

And thinking of that she makes her crawling to him.

A hunting peer.

She was the beast now.

Her lips reach for him.

She kisses his navel, going up to his stomach as she feels his muscles contracting there. She looks up and Elijah has his eyes half opened, trying to fight the urge to let it completely go.

Katherine giggles mischievously and ascends her kisses to his nipples, as he finally touches her again.

His hands going directly to her breasts and squeezing them through the fabric of her bra.

Katherine’s nose is nuzzling his jaw as she hums her approval. The wetness of her tongue darts out to taste her dried blood of his face, her hands running through his hair while she pulls that back, making his neck available for her to taste.

And drink.

And as she laps her tongue, filling her body with rich Original blood, Elijah moves her panties out of the way, inserting a long digit inside of her.

Katherine stops her feeding to moan into his neck while he joins another finger in.

“Don’t stop…” she pleads and he has no intention to whatsoever.

Just as expertly, her skilled hands take his briefs off the way, the heat of her palm in contact with his erect shaft.

Elijah lets out a grunt while moving his ministrations in her pussy faster, seeking her release just as she does his.

The scene was sensual, erotic in its maximum, the blood she spills when she comes with a loud wail runs down his neck and chest, just as her juices travel down his hand and wrist.

She’s panting, in her mind only his face and form.

With a strong tug, the eldest vampire alive takes off her bra, throwing the material carelessly behind him and pushes his Katerina down onto the now stained red sheets, as his head and lips descend on her hard nipples.

He plays with them, biting and soothing it after with a blow, making her writhe beneath him.

“Lijah…” she implored.

But for what?

For him to make her cum again?

For the Original vampire to let her go?

Was she begging for release? Of what kind?

Katherine liked to think herself headstrong, but when he touched her like this, doing what only he knew how and for how long and how intense, she couldn’t straight her thoughts. Every pierce of knowledge she knew of flew through the window and the only thing left were the increasing sensations.

She didn’t know how to love anymore.

For if she did, this would be their lovemaking.

As it always has been.

Although, Elijah certainly awakened something inside her being.

Something he knew how to tame.

Calling your name, the only language I can speak Taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

Slowly letting her flesh mounds go, Elijah trailed down kisses until he was facing her wet entrance.

Katherine’ soft gasps echoed around the room as the man sucked her clit and gripped her thighs so forcefully, restraining himself from devouring her in one go.

Teeth grazed sensible skin and his breath oh so close washed away every curse she had in mind to praise him.

The woman could only make wonderful sounds as she moved her hips in encounter with his face.

“So sinfully divine,” he complimented, shifting his position to kiss her inner thighs not allowing her to come a second time.

“Says the saint,” ironized the girl her hands up gripping the sheets, her boobs moving with her heavy breathing.

Elijah chuckled in response.

“Am not. Regardless, Katerina let me blessedly cherish you just as such,” a raised eyebrow and a light lift of his lips, as well as those chocolate irises were all Katherine had time to process, before he was plugged to her, filling her to the hilt.

Her surprised shriek, followed by a whisper of his name fueled Elijah to take himself all out and thrust with no mercy once again.

“Fuck! Yes!” she exclaimed closing her eyes with the wonderous building up sensation growing on her lower abdomen. Circling her legs around his middle, draping her arms over his shoulders, Katherine moved her hips in encounter to his.

Male hands were everywhere as he fucked her deep. His mane being tousled by her fingers as she grunted in his ear.

“You’re such an obedient subject,” she played with the words, nibbling his earlobe as their bodies shook with the force of their bang.

He moved his head from her neck to look at her, a glimmer shinning in his beautiful eyes, as he moved her away from him.

Katherine was to open her mouth in protest, only a moan came instead when he palmed her pussy and flipped her on her stomach.

“However, I might cherish you the way I choose to,” the sultry velvet pouring out of his mouth, as well as his fingers assaulting her labia were enough to make her body shudder in a second orgasm.

Katherine was almost begging for him to enter her again.

Almost.

She bit her lower lip and enjoyed as he so subtly ran the tip of his penis along her entrance.

“Enough teasing,” she commanded after an instant, albeit her body moved back and forth to try and get him inside of her.

“And what do you want me to do, Katerina?”

Maybe she should be preoccupied this man could replace her as the devil, he certainly knew about torture.

On her hands and knees she turned her head back, her long curly hair slapping the bed, and watched the precum dripping from him.

Tempting.

“You’re gonna fuck me, with that gorgeous cock of your-“

Her hands automatically sought the wooden headboard as the vampire reentered her from behind efficiently.

A ragged breathy moan accompanied by a wave of pleasure shook the doppelganger as he deliberately inserted himself in and out of her.

His hands firm on her waist guiding her to the rhythm of his groaning.

“Katerina,” he loudly whispered seeking them both their ultimate bliss.

The sound of his palm colliding with her buttchecks made her yelp in surprise and laugh in delight.

She always liked it rough and Elijah knew it. That was exactly why he full fisted pulled her hair back as he increased the speed of his thrusts.

“Say that I fuck you like no one else does,”

She closed her eyes when his breath hit her ear. A wide cat smile appearing on her features when he enveloped her neck in his hand, aiming for lightly choking her while still moving, only slower now.

“Like you needed the reassurance,” she shot back with a groan when he went deeper.  

Elijah smiled closing his hand tighter around her slim neck.

“I want to hear you say it,” he prompted taking his member almost all off and going in slapping their bodies together.

“Yes!” she chocked hanging her head back.

Elijah felt her walls clenching around him, so he retreated himself letting his fangs come out once again.

Katherine moaned in pleasure when his vampire teeth sank on her shoulder, his moves slow and languid.

This was to be the most amazing torture out there.

She wanted to let go, although without ever leave.

“Harder,” her command was clear and he bit her deeper on her shoulder.

“Faster!” she pleaded against her better judgment and felt his balls hitting on her pussy.

It was animalistic the way he was having her. Devouring her in all ways he could. Mind, body and soul.

He didn’t know if he would have her again, so he would prolong it the best he could.

“Say it, Katerina,” he quipped blowing on her ear, the blood dripping from his fangs on her glistening bare back.

Her mouth formed an arch in bliss with his never stopping but oh so slow moves.

“You have me like nobody else does,” she whispered in surrender, feminine hands back at the headboard, while his traveled back down from her neck to her waist.

“Now, I shall the devil to heaven,”

She laughed while he sank himself deep and hard into her wet inviting hole.

Their juices mixing as they both watched the lights dancing in front of their eyes.

Katherine came first in a trembling cry, her curly head hanging low as she felt Elijah cock explode inside of her.

You're giving me chills at a hundred degrees

Her body felt like the sun kissed it as they both laid spent between the blood smeared sheets.

Elijah had the sweetest of smiles, as if he hasn’t been the most pervert beast only a couple minutes prior.

Her hair was plastered on her sweated forehead and the man beside her moved his thumb to take it away from her face.

Katherine offered him a sated smile and wrapped her leg around him.

“What would you say about becoming my sex slave?”

Elijah laughed with that and leaned to bless her lips with his in a brief kiss.

“I would say you need to test drive the vassal again,” his voice sensual as they locked eyes and a smile appeared in her own face.

“Just to be sure I made a good deal?”

He nodded in agreement his hand traveling the side of her body, his fingers featherlight on the side of her breasts as he thrusted his hip into hers.

Katherine’s hands went to his short hair.

“Just to be sure,” he finally said sinking his head down for another kiss.

[gullivertravelstowonderland]

Since Doomguy probably got all or most of his clothes shredded in the Divinity Machine Incident, imagine him going to a nice Sentinel tailor or seamstress to get fitted for some new clothes and armor. :)

Ficlet under the cut!

The Doom Marine awoke slowly, vaguely aware of the fact that he was laying on the floor, shrapnel of some kind pressing into his bare stomach. A distant voice was frantically calling to him, a strange weight settled on his arm and harshly pushing at his temple.

He slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes, absently shifting to drag a hand over his face with a groan. Whatever was on his arm flinched away, falling from its perch with an audible 'oof.'

"Watch it, you damnable oaf!" The Doom Marine froze, confused; he knew that voice. That was… God, right, the Divinity Machine!

He shot up, the back of his head connecting with something as he let out a pained growl, one hand slamming into the ground as he searched for the source of the voice. His eyes narrowed as they fell on the creature curled on the ground, staring up at him with both anger and fear in its eyes. His own eyes widened for a split second as he processed what had happened.

"You… What the hell did you do to me?!" The human barked, wrapping his free hand around his sore throat after he'd spoken. His voice rumbled low and gravelly, grating against his vocal chords for reasons he didn't quite understand, head spinning as the Makyr cowered under him, covering his ears and fixing a glare on the soldier.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! You weren't meant to become a monster!" Samur fumbled back off of the floor, running a hand along the curve of his mask with a frustrated sigh. "It must have something to do with your biology reacting poorly to the machine— either way, we're both going to die if we waste any more time! We need to work together if we want to get out of this, understand?"

The Doom Marine growled, trying to position himself so he didn't feel so… exposed as the Makyr tried to explain his plan.

—

When the Elite Sentinel Guard found the human, he was pressed against the wall with his knees to his chest, settled into the indented ring that surrounded the remains of the Divinity Machine. Samur had ordered them to bring a large sheet of fabric, crafting some story about a betrayer of some sort giving him access to the machine, and using it to make him a weapon more powerful than anything the Argenta had ever seen, in order to defeat the demons that invaded their land. The Doom Marine's job was mostly to stay quiet about who brought him there and comply with their demands until Samur was done with him.

To say the soldiers were shocked to find him in such a state would be an understatement. They were terrified, although you wouldn't know it at first glance: they had their weapons raised and stances defensive as they approached the giant. Two of them stepped forward, holding the fabric out to him, ready to spring into action the second things went wrong.

He hummed to himself, carefully raising a hand so they could see before he slowly reached towards them, gently taking the cloth from them with a small nod in thanks.

The two Sentinels quickly retreated back into the safety of their group as he unfolded the plain fabric, mentally planning how he was going to cover himself with it as he waited for the group to empty the room so he could clothe himself. When they made no move to leave, the Doom Marine turned his attention to them, fixing them with a peculiar stare.

"Can I… be alone?" He mumbled, deciding to ignore the pain it caused. An embarrassed blush crept over his cheeks as the soldiers cautiously complied, looking down at the cloth with a sigh before slowly standing in the small space once he was completely out of view. He had to be careful not to hit his head on any of the floating pillars as he stood, experimentally wrapping the fabric around his waist.

Fuck, this wasn't really gonna work, was it? He couldn't walk out of here wearing nothing but a scrap of cloth wrapped around him like a towel. He tore the fabric off with an indignant huff, his eyes scanning the room for anything he could use to sew it into something more fitting.

He grabbed some wires and a thin metal pole from the remains of the Divinity Machine, using his teeth to shape one end of the pipe into a loop before threading the wire through it. He laid the fabric out, using a piece of sharp metal to tear through it where he needed to and doing his best to turn the heap of cloth into a decently wearable pair of shorts. They weren't bad, considering the limited materials and circumstances he had to work with, just a bit loose around the waist; a problem easily fixed by tearing some tubing from the machine and tying it around his waist like a belt.

Once he was finally dressed, he slowly inched his way towards the door, peeking out at the soldiers gathered outside waiting for him. They sat amongst themselves in an anxious huddle, exchanging whispered words in their native tongue. A few jumped to attention once they noticed the giant looming in the doorway, offering an awkward wave as they brandished their weapons.

"Come on, we don't have all day. The shop closes in an hour." One of the higher-ranking Sentinels grumbled as he approached the Doom Marine, he and a few others ushering him out of the room, edging towards him with their weapons raised.

"Shop?" He questioned, stumbling as he tripped over his own weight. The Sentinels corralling him flinched, darting out of the way as he struggled to regain his footing, an apologetic cringe crossing his face.

His entire balance was off, despite his body seeming to be completely proportional— if a tad bit more muscular. Maybe it was just a side effect of the machine, or something had changed besides his height; whatever it was, the Doom Slayer wasn't really willing to dwell on it.

Civilians and soldiers alike stopped to gawk at the giant as he passed by, sheepishly curling in on himself at the unwanted attention. Why did this have to happen to him? Why did they have to drag him into town and make a huge spectacle out of him when all he wanted to do after the incident was curl up and disappear?

He was snapped out of his self-deprecating thoughts by a concerned shout, belatedly realizing that he had almost knocked someone over when the group suddenly stopped.

"S— sorry." He mumbled, turning his attention to the building they had stopped beside as a few of them made their way inside, most likely to speak with the owners. "Is this… a tailor shop?"

"Of course. You didn't think you'd be wearing that into battle, did you?"

His head snapped to the source of the voice, his eyes falling on the higher-ranking soldier from earlier. His brows furrowed inquisitively as he carefully lowered himself to the ground, afraid he misheard the small soldier. They all stepped back as he crouched, the group readying their weapons again.

"Battle?"

"Of… of course. You've proved your worth in the arena, and you would clearly have an advantage on the battlefield: not to mention you'd need to find some way to repay our people for the resources it would take to keep you alive… it's just the most logical solution." He muttered, fidgeting nervously with his armor under the Doom Marine's imposing gaze.

It didn't take long for the shop's doors to open again, the owner emerging with a quiet squeak of shock, turning to the soldier beside them and whispering something in the alien language. The giant settled himself on the ground with a sigh, the chill of night creeping ever closer, seeping into his exposed skin with a shiver. The superior soldier noticed, and quickly spoke up.

"Is there any way we could do this inside? I'd rather not make my troops suffer the cold any longer than they must— including the giant. I'd hate to imagine the amount of medicine it would take to cure a cold at that size…"

The giant stifled a laugh, following as the tailor led them around the building to what seemed to be a delivery entrance. The Doom Marine made his way towards the garage-like door, careful to step over the others this time as he forced it open and slipped into the blessedly warm space, ignoring the cries of shock and alarm at the action as he settled himself amongst the fabrics. The others followed suit, standing guard as the tailor closed the door and made their way towards the giant, gingerly extending a hand to touch his knee, and clambering on top of it when the giant made no move to stop them.

He sucked in a shocked breath, the sensation of another living, breathing person walking along his legs sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. He felt his face flush as he held his breath, watching the small tailor as they tested their footing on the odd surface. Once they'd seemingly found their balance, the tailor curiously padded over his lap, seemingly fascinated by the giant as they prodded at his limbs and torso, eliciting an odd noise to come from the back of his throat in response.

The tailor chuckled lightly as they held one end of the measuring tape out for the marine to hold, carefully making their way down the giant's leg until they ran out of tape with a huff. They decided instead to settle themself on the giant's knee and scribble the measurement into their notepad.

The Slayer shifted slightly, unsure of how to act in this odd scenario. The Sentinel soldiers would raise their weapons at the slightest movement, eyeing the larger man wearily; that he was used to. He was always the outsider, or the gruesome warrior, or the enemy— he was used to being stared at in mistrust or disdain— but this? This strange, casual fascination? Not normal.

The procedure continued semi-normally, the soldiers eyeing him warily as the tailor did their job, occasionally glancing up at the giant to mutter a request in that odd language, miming whatever it was they wanted. They didn't seem to speak English, but they certainly understood it, as they could respond to the human's questions rather easily. They seemed to truly enjoy working with the unusual client, despite the obvious difficulties. The Slayer, however, couldn't quite say the same.

It proved to be increasingly difficult to sit still during the strange procedure, as the comparatively small tailor clambered awkwardly over his much larger frame. The sensation felt… oddly familiar to the marine, though he couldn't quite place why. Of course, that wasn't much of a surprise. He had spent far too many years traversing the unforgiving planes of Hell and Argent D'Nur to retain much knowledge of his life before; he couldn't even remember his own name anymore.

At some point, while the tailor was measuring the length of his arm, a slight misstep and the ensuing twitch of the giant's muscles nearly sent the Argenta tumbling to the ground, the swift movement of the Slayer's reflexes startling the guards into defensive positions, ready to attack at the first sign of danger. The marine wasn't even fully sure what had happened by the time his brain registered the fact that an actual, living person was literally in his hand, sending his heart into his throat as he scrambled for the words to explain himself, trying to force his breathing to return to normal.

The tailor suddenly seemed so fragile, making the Slayer almost afraid to move, lest they fall to pieces. He could feel the Argenta's heart hammering in the small, almost doll-like chest. Each panicked breath wracked their whole body as their brain struggled to comprehend where they were and how they got there. They looked around briefly before locking eyes with their savior, the shocked and slightly panicked expression visibly relaxing as they caught their breath. For a moment it was as if time had stopped, as no one in the room moved or made a sound, just… froze.

Then, the tailor laughed, sending small tremors through the giant's hand with the motion.

It wasn't clear if it was from relief, shock, or just the pure absurdity of the situation, but the sound quickly broke the tension in the room as the others joined in, each for their own, unknowable reasons. The Slayer chuckled in relief, mostly, but also the utter strangeness of the whole day, culminating in the restrained, nearly hysterical laughing fit he had now, shaking his entire body as tears crept from his eyes.

His attention turned to the tailor when he felt the Argenta shift in his hand, softly clearing their throat before speaking, eyes locked with the Slayer's, a hand gently squeezing his thumb.

"Thank you, amiixus." The small person smiled, placing a fist over their heart in what the Slayer understood to be the planet's general sign of friendship, and he carefully shifted his free hand to mimic the gesture with a nod.

Friend. He liked the idea of finding a friend in all of this madness.

—

//In the end the tailor gives the Doom Slayer a small selection of outfits, as well as his custom-fitted Praetor suit— with a bit of help from the Maykers and a team of assistants, of course! Anyways, I really liked this idea and got a bit carried away lol. Hope you like it!

[roelifant]

Spreekt u bodemtong?

Cautiously Filip krept down into the pit towards the luminous, winged being. All the while it stared at him. Magic radiating from it, tingling Filip's antennae. Finally he stopped. Now at the same level as the strange being, he no longer dared to come any closer. It kept staring at him in anticipation, and Filip stared back just the same. It might be verbal. No, it *must* be verbal. Filip thought. Bravely Filip raised his voice and asked: "Do you speak the tongue of the dirt?" Upon hearing this the being suddenly grew in size. Going from a crouched position to an erect stance, revealing its strange number of limbs and its fleshy body. A look of confusion on its face, as though Filip had said something offensive. This sudden action in turn surprised Filip, who moved a few steps back. There was another silence, untill finally the being opened its small mouth and spoke: "What dark magic has enabled you to speak?" "Magic?" said Filip, letting out an awkward chuckle. "Why I'm but a simple bug. I struggle to think on most days, let alone cast spells." "A spell was cast on you to make you speak." said the being. "No. No. We all learn to speak. The ants taught us. Well actually, they taught my mother and then she taught me and my siblings." Another silence broke out. Filip got the feeling that the being didn't believe him. "Why would insects need to speak?" the being asked quietly, as though it was the world's biggest conundrum. "To understand and share the Queen's orders." Filip said. "You are an ant?" asked the being. "Oh no. I'm an earwig. But we bare the Emperial Mark. That means we work for the ants in exchange for their protection." "You dig for them." the being deducted. "Yes. They're amazing diggers themselves but some places they find too dangerous or scary to dig in. So they ask us." "They order you to." said the being. "Yes. Isn't that what I said?" "You bare a mark of darkness and now you are unknowingly a slave to their magic. What wicked fairy has done this?" "Fairy?" Filip asked excitingly. "You know about fairies?" "Yes. I am one." the being said. Filip laughed, allthough the being didn't seem like it was joking. "No." Filip said. "The fairies are extinct since forever ago. They wiped each others out." "The Great Aberon traded our immortality in exchange for a victory. He saved the cosmos from darkness but shortly after vanquishing the Dark Fairies, The Old Nothing came and claimed us all. Thousands of years of eternal life not lived, caught up with us and we crumbled into the dust we were supposed to be." "Ok." Filip said, pretending to understand. "But I lived. I was young enough to survive the transition to a mortal existence. Then I slept in amber for a long time. I don't know how long. Long enough for magic to return to this realm, so the stone could crack open again. If the amber can crack, then there too should be enough magic in the world for me to reclaim my fairy soul. My true, immortal soul." "That sounds like a whole thing." Filip said, just making conversation. "But if I somehow were to die on my journey to reclaim my soul, I will die a mortal death. Then The Old Nothing will claim me after all." "Cool." Filip said. "Hey you seem really nice and all but the ants said this place is dangerous. It's actually an old temple build by magic beings long long ago and there might be magical traps in here and what not. And dead magic things. You don't want to run into some magical zombie, now do you?" The being just looked at Filip and said "You truely are a simple creature." "So you really shouldn't be there." Filip continued without skipping a beat. "Not to mention this is ant territory, well within the borders of the Amfel nest. You know how ants are when they think someone crossed their imaginary lines without their permission." "I don't fear them." said the being. "I wield magic much stronger than theirs. Half a spell is enough to atomize any insect." Filip didn't know what the word atomize meant, but he said "Sure, but they have spears." "Spears?" "Yes. They're like sticks, but sharp. Ants flock together into these huge inpenetrable military formations. It's super unfair. You don't want to find yourself facing off against a spear-wall just because some crazy ant queen finds you're not where you're supposed to be." "Since when do insects cary arms?" asked the being. "I think they started doing it when the spiders became verbal." Filip said. "That was a big yikes for the Empire. The spiders started banding together and attacking ant nests. Ever since then they've been trying to one-up the spiders by creating weapons, and taming beasts and ..." "I must have slept longer than I thought. Maybe for centuries... I was worried when I no longer recognised the temple. Now I no longer recognise the world. I wonder if this happened to all worlds." "You say many weird things." said Filip. "But so do I, so don't you worry. Can you come with me now? I'll help you out of this place. I know a tunnel the ants don't know about." "I won't follow a creature of darkness." said the being. "Oh come on man. Don't give me a hard time. I'm trying to help you." "I am not a man." said the being. "I am a woman. A princess, in fact." "A princess?" asked Filip. "Fascinating! I've never heard of such an insect before!" "A princess is the daughter of a queen." explained the being patiently. "Oh, wait so you're an ant now?! You don't even look like one!" The being just stared at Filip, annoyed. "Some sort of freakish bee then?" Filip asked carefully.