thegreatdepravity

[thegreatdepravity]

[thegreatdepravity]

Glory Kills are great

And the husband thinks a rainbow would have been great

[thegreatdepravity]

It starts with the blankets.

He pulls them over his head when I come in, his little bottom sticking out from under the covers, the faintest crinkle giving away the very soggy state of his overnight diaper.

“Time to get up, baby,” I coo gently, pulling them back to reveal his pouty little face. “We’ve got daycare today.”

He groans.

“Nooo…”

He flops over, eyes scrunching shut, trying to hide again. I can’t help but smile — even when he’s fussy, he’s adorable.

“Someone’s not excited to see their friends this morning,” I say softly, giving his warm, puffy diaper a playful pat.

“I don’t wanna go,” he mumbles into the pillow. “I wanna stay home with you.”

“I know, sweetpea. But it’s Monday. And Mommy has to work. Daddy too.”

That’s when Daddy pokes his head into the room, already dressed in his button-down and sleeves rolled up.

“Is my sleepy boy still fighting us?” he asks, voice warm but with that unmistakable Daddy tone that means stalling won’t last much longer.

The little one just buries his face deeper into the sheets and kicks his foot in protest.

Daddy chuckles.

“Five seconds to get up or I’m tossing you over my shoulder, stinky butt and all.”

That gets a whimper — and a reluctant scoot toward the edge of the bed.

I’ve already laid out his outfit: soft t-shirt with the dino print, elastic shorts that won’t get in the way of diaper checks, and his light green zip-up hoodie with the bunny ears on the hood. He doesn’t complain about the clothes — just crosses his arms as I unzip his sleeper and peel it off.

“Can I wear undies today?” he tries, hopeful but already knowing the answer.

I look down at the heavy, swollen diaper sagging between his legs and raise an eyebrow.

“You soaked through your overnight again, sweetheart. Do you really think you’re ready for undies at daycare?”

He looks away. That tells me all I need to know.

Daddy walks over and lifts him gently onto the changing mat we keep by the dresser.

“Diapers it is,” Daddy says, not unkindly, but firmly. “You’re still our little guy. Big feelings or not.”

I head to the kitchen and start packing his diaper bag while Daddy changes him. I tuck in four thick diapers — extra absorbent, because the last thing I want is a midday call about leaks. A soft blankie, his favorite teether toy (even if he insists he’s too old for it), wipes, cream, a fresh onesie just in case…

And then, of course — two little labeled bottles of my pumped milk, kept cold in a small insulated pouch. One for morning snack, one for after nap. He pretends he doesn’t love it. But the way he cuddles into the daycare assistant’s lap, eyes fluttering closed as he suckles from his bottle? That says otherwise.

Back in the nursery, Daddy is zipping up his shorts while the little one pouts in his lap.

“All clean,” Daddy says, standing him up and adjusting his hoodie. “Now come say bye to Mommy while she finishes your bag.”

He stomps a little as he toddles over, but the second he sees me sealing up the bottle pouch, his tone softens.

“…Is that mine?”

“Of course it is,” I smile. “Fresh this morning. Just for my hungry little cub.”

He blushes and tugs on my shirt, unsure if he wants to ask for a snuggle or keep pretending he’s too big for this.

I kneel down and wrap him up in a hug anyway. He melts into me almost instantly.

“You don’t have to like daycare,” I whisper into his hair. “But you do have to go. And Mommy and Daddy will be here when you get home.”

He nods against my chest, sniffling a little.

I press a kiss to his forehead, then hand Daddy the diaper bag.

“Can you do drop-off?” I ask.

“Of course,” Daddy says, reaching for the little one’s hand. “C’mon, cub. I’ll even let you pick the music in the car.”

He brightens slightly at that.

“And if you're a good boy all day,” Daddy adds with a wink, “maybe Mommy will let you fall asleep nursing in her lap again tonight.”

That gets a smile. Just a tiny one. But it’s there.

[thegreatdepravity]

Somewhere Far - Part 1

Oliver waited at the airport’s pickup spot. He was nervous. He didn’t know this place, and everything looked new and unfamiliar. Sometimes he needed to reassure himself that this was happening, all these fantasies, all those years, it was going to come true. And yet, he was afraid, he didn’t know this man who was about to show up any second, not in person.

“Are you serious about it? Will you be willing to fly over to my home?” Fragments of memories floated in Oliver’s mind while waiting. Through the online chats he had with this man, he thought he got to know him.

“Yes, I want to experience our chats, our fantasies, my fantasies. The easiest thing is to hold myself, the hardest is to let go. I’m letting go.”

“That’s good my boy, now write to me that you want your Daddy, you need your Daddy, and the first thing that you’ll say to me is ‘Hey Daddy’ “.

“I want and need you Daddy, and I will,” Oliver promised.

Oliver waited on the sidewalk with his trolley bag, like a kid waiting for his parents to pick him up. But he wasn’t a kid, not even close. He looked like any man. He looked like a middle-class, well-fed, working-out man. With his used jeans and gray polo shirt. He looked like a dad, but inside, so far from being one. He was a boy, flying such a long distance, to finally meet his Daddy.

A car had stopped just in front of him, the gray-haired man lowered his window, and said-  

“There’s only one way to get into this car, do you know how?” he asked.

“Yes, Hey Daddy,” Oliver greeted the man, and blushed.

“Good boy, get in. Throw your bag in the trunk,” he winked and said, while popping the back of the car.

Oliver put his trolley into the car and got into the front seat.

“Hey,” the man said.

“Hey,” Oliver said back.

“You are nervous.”

“I am”

“That’s okay, my boy, your old man is nervous too. But it’s an adventure, a crazy ride, for both of us. Last chance to get out. Are we taking off, or should I open the trunk so you can take out your things?”

Oliver saw that man’s smile all over his face, which eased his nervousness. ‘Worst case scenario, if I won’t have fun, I could always walk away,’ he thought..

“I’m ready Daddy, let’s take off.”

The man nodded, then pressed the gas pedal and drove off the airport to the highway.

—----------------------------

I’m starting a new 10-part story. It’s been way too long since the last time. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

[thegreatdepravity]

[thegreatdepravity]

I'm rooting for a diverse book, but I would sacrifice 10 virgin men for 1 book about Tamlin's entire trajectory, his relationship with his father, the beginning of Amarantha's obsession, which began since childhood (was there any other reason for this?), the friendship with Rhysand until the tragedy with the families (was Tamlin really indirectly responsible for the death of Rhysand's mother and sister? Did they really die?);

Why is there a lake of starlight in his court and why does he love it so much there?

What happened to Tamlin in Under the Mountain? Why is he so reclusive and evasive about his own story?

Will he connect to Koschei's plot? So many questions.

I almost forgot, his friendship with Lucien! Or with Eris. I need details on how Lucien ended up in Tamlin's arms.

[thegreatdepravity]

So I have actually written an original story on Ao3 about an omega werewolf who has been abused by his pack and becomes the very monster he escaped from. This is the very first idea I've ever had for a story and I've gradually added little bit of worldbuilding in my mind and today I've finally posted. There's the link below. Let me know what you guys think? This is a very sad story and can be triggering.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64808464/chapters/166548733

[thegreatdepravity]

Zombie setting where the undead are drawn towards unhygienic scents, so survivors constantly bathe to avoid being eaten.

Zombies are docile when adorned with flowers.

Settlements overgrown with herbs and flora.

Barely any banditry; everyone is focused on farming and gathering.

Different human factions and towns named after flowers like Lilies, Orchids, Roses, etc.

Instead of immediately killing an infected survivor, they’re given special funeral rites - the zombie is covered with flowers to keep them calm, and  allowed to walk out from the settlement to join the hordes.

[thegreatdepravity]

There are so many beautiful father and son moments between a Daddy and his boy, some leave you speechless, taking away your breath with how tender they are!

This morning I had to gently take a teddy out of Riley's hands reassuring my crying Toddler that his bear will be there for him after he's had his teddy nap. And once Riley is back from helping Daddy at the shop, he can hug him then.

It broke my heart to see him cry, but made me feel proud that he was expressing himself in such an infantile way!

It was pure, and showed me once again that with a little patience, consistency and effort,all boys will naturally return to their toddler self!

Thank you @squirtdaboi for letting me raise you all over again!!

[thegreatdepravity]

[thegreatdepravity]

What SHOULD have happened during the High Lord meeting

Beron moved to the Lady of Autumn's seat, resting a hand on her shoulder. The same arm that now bore a bright scar. She did not so much as flinch, but her hand tightened around Eris's wrist.

"You have injured my wife, viciously attacked my heir, and made an attempt on my life. These are acts of war, little girl. Perhaps your mate should have done better filling you with knowledge of politics and common sense rather than vile seed!"

"Beron!"

"I have spoken my piece!" he snarled in answer to Thesan's snap. Beron turned back to the Night Court and pointed his finger.

"Too long have we endured the arrogance of this insolent half-breed. Well. No longer." Beron spat out the words, "This meeting was the last straw in a bale of thousands. As High Lord of Autumn, I declare war on Night."

The ripple was instantaneous.

"Father, are you certain of this?" Eris murmured.

But Beron did not answer his son. His gaze was fixed on Rhys's frozen face. The male recovered quickly, a sneer forming on his lips.

"What matter is it of mine whether you wage war on us or not? We both know your forces are nothing in comparison to Night's."

Beron's face turned thunderous, and he opened his mouth to reply when a voice cut through, sharp and clear.

"Spring will stand with you, Lord Beron."

Rhys barked out a laugh, relaxing "Oh? With what army?"

Tamlin merely smiled, unsheathing those deadly claws and letting them gleam in the steady candle light.

"I don't need one. I killed one High Lord of Night before. I can do it again."

[thegreatdepravity]

Happy Spring Equinox from Night Court's number one spring fan!

[thegreatdepravity]

Was for OC stuff but can also be used for Konrad Curze x reader in general. Idea I obsess over:

When Konrad isn't dreading the idea having children because of fears they would inherit his darkness/he'd be a terrible father or whatever, he's laughing smugly at the idea of his child wreaking havoc on some noble family because of course any child of his would be quite a handful (you've heard of baby proofing the house, imagine curzeling proofing the house...).

Flash forward years later, he's 100% correct in his assesment of the kid being a chaotic gremlin, but laughing slightly less because the kid is pestering HIM.

Climbing all over papas armor (and actually managing to scale him from floor to standing on his shoulder in 12 seconds flat, because Curze genes), pulling his hair, Konrad walking around like a tired dog trying to escape its hyperactive puppies. Acting like a video I saw of lion cubs attacking their (trying to sleep) fathers tail, probably goes ballistic like a kitten playing with string laying in Konrads shoulder and endlessly attacking his hair. Konrad Curze sitting on the couch and the kid just jumps on him to take his spot like a younger cat slam dunking an older one, inadverdently kicking him in the dick. The mother already isn't scared of Konrad after dating him and the kid was born with ZERO fear of him.

Literally this clip:

Yes the mother does in fact witness her husband laying on the floor making weird "protest noises" while their hyperactive kid climbs all over him, no she doesn’t help. She's standing in the doorway pointing and laughing.

[thegreatdepravity]

Some poor marine fantasizing about getting his favourite serf pregnant, before realizing he doesn't actually know how that happens.

Time for a very awkward trip to the apothecary!

[thegreatdepravity]

Sanctus-Potentia

(WOW Angel Engine is really fucking good! Anyway, here's y'alls juice!)

Tags: Blood, body horror, forced captivity

My Choir: @druidwolf21 @artemisareia @cardinalcanis @kit-williams @wolf-feathers12

@adhd-fandom-hyperfocus

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@undeaddream @platinummice @thisuserislilsilly

@finchly-tintinnabulation @callmeluckyifyoulike

@beckyninja @meervalv0

@cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @echo-of-damnation

@hatsubara-8chan @sorormaior

𓆩♕𓆪𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓃬𓆩♕𓆪

How long had it been since a proper inspection had been done on the Miihan sector? Centuries, perhaps. There had been no need, not before the incident. They’d always paid their dues, communicated regularly, and provided the Imperium with faithful soldiers and endless crates of apples. Then the scream had happened. From what had been said by the Blood Angels who witnessed the event, the very halls seemed to be filled with the cry of pure agony. The pure power of the shriek, and the cry of the name ‘Ambasul’ had driven the Blood Angels to set out for Miihan, asking for any reinforcements they could get to secure the planet in the meantime.

So here Azrael was, staring at the pristine, towering white buildings capped with gold and waxed copper. The people wore bright colors and fine silks, and even the roaming stray dogs had a sort of posh, haughty nature to them. They all but ignored the Astartes, the usual transhuman dread lost on the mongrels. The scent of fried food and the sweet florals of freshly cut flowers lingered, and colorful banners hung around the city. There was something though, that sat deep in the Astarte’s belly as he looked around. Trees swayed, and birds sang. There was nothing visibly amiss about the city. Yet the dread remained. A man in a powdered wig, wrapped in golden silk and white linens approached, his cheeks full and rosy “My Lords! It had been far too long since we’ve been blessed with the presence of the Emperor’s Angels!” He greeted, his bow deep “Come, let me give you a tour.” He smiled, half his teeth were golden and had diamonds encrusted on them. 

“I would actually like to speak to your Planetary Governor. Immediately.” 

Azrael knew he was being curt, and he could see the way that the man’s eyes widened and his lip pursed. He was upset. Good. 

“Are you sure, my lord Angel? There is much to see, to taste, to enjoy!” He offered again, but Azrael just stared, and the man shrank beneath his gaze “So be it..” He mumbled, motioning along the Dark Angels. 

They walked the paved marble streets, passing countless vendors and stores, some baselines were bold enough to call out for them to make a purchase. The dread grew within Azrael as they walked through the maze-like streets of the city. The further in they got, the narrower the streets became, and the fewer baselines were visible, and when they came within viewing distance of the doors to the spire, he couldn’t help but notice the massive arches reinforced with adamantine, and the gates that hung over them, threatening to drop and seal them within an ivory tomb. 

He could feel the dread growing more intense, a buzzing beginning in his ear as the once bright sounds of chatter and song were overtaken by a deep, endless silence. The mosaics of the ceiling and the colorful green and blue tile of the floor beneath him did not serve to comfort him as he looked around. He blinked. What he had thought were reinforcing beams seemed to be tubes that pulsated with energy.

A woman stood on a balcony above them, her wig almost as tall as she was “Oh, this is a surprise. The Emperor sends us his angels once more.” She smiled as she exited through the doors behind her, soon emerging from a hallway on the left. She was covered in layers of jewelry, to the point the thin white dress she wore was barely visible. Her features were pristine, almost doll-like. Her smile was like that of a porcelain doll. She seemed…inhuman. 

Azrael looked back at the tubes “We came to investigate some strange activity, my lady.” He said, approaching one of the tubes “What are these used for?” He asked. 

There was a pause from the man who had led them there, but the woman smiled “Oh, those are simply part of our power grid, lord angel.” She said, waving a hand dismissively. 

“What power source? I thought your planet primarily relied on a hydro-powered system, but these tubes have no water.” He pointed out. The woman blinked as if confused by his statement. 

“Water? Oh no, lord Angel. We use the Sanctus-Potentia.”She laughed. 

“Sanctus-Potentia? What is that?” 

She laughed again, and the man who had led them to the spire went white in the face, swallowing “My lady-” He was cut off as she snapped her attention to him, a frown now on her face.

“What? The Sanctus-Potentia was a gift from the Emperor, why would we not show our guests?” She questioned, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing “You’re dismissed, Furren.” She sighed before turning back to smile at Azrael “Come along.”

The Dark Angels exchanged looks before Azrael nodded, following the woman. She led them through one of the halls, the buzzing growing louder with each step. The woman walked past statues that held the ceiling up, kneeling with expressions of agony on their faces. It was morbid. She unlocked the door, touching a data-slab and guiding them down a spiraling staircase “Excuse the noise.” She apologized without explanation, the ringing growing almost unbearable as they descended towards a bright blue glow. 

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a chamber, and the air was suddenly electric. All the hair on Azrael’s body stood on end. There was a glowing blue cylinder in the center where several wires emerged, along with large rubes that carried liquid in and out. There were loud cracks of electricity, and Azrael could faintly see something in the center of the cylinder “What is this?” Azrael stepped forward, and set his visor on his head, scanning the cylinder as his entire body suddenly felt cold. 

[Scan Complete: Astartes, Chapter: Blood Angels]

“An angel the Emperor sent us. He offered to help in any way we could. The Sanctus allowed us to use him to the fullest extent. It's a marvel, isn’t it? Pure psyker agony, translated into enough power to last us the centuries prior, and for centuries to come. Truly, The Emperor loves us to have been so generous.” She held her hand to her chest as if reminiscing over something as simple as supplies. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off the hunched figure “Is… He a servitor?” Azrael could feel his throat clenching as he stared. He felt his hearts pounding, and he could hear his men beginning to draw their weapons. 

She stared at him as if he was an idiot “Of course not! That would dull his abilities, making the harvesting process far more difficult.” She explained like she was speaking to a child. 

There was a shriek, arcs of electricity dancing over the metal wires as the figure arched backward, and though Azrael could feel the shriek of agony, there was no sound “You have lost the light of the Emperor.” Azrael muttered, and with blinding speed, the woman’s shoulders were liberated from her head. 

It did not roll, the wig too heavy as Azrael quickly grabbed a hunk of meat from the woman, removing the helm and shoving the meat into his mouth. He approached the tablet. He smeared her blood on the DNA scanner, and he slammed his hand on a button as the machine came to a slow halt. The light faded, and Azrael was quick to force the door of the chamber open. He entered slowly, the dark-haired Astartes slumping forward, the wires protruding from his arms, spine, and ankle being the only things keeping him upright, aside from the strange helmet locked onto his head. 

Azrael was careful as he detached the helmet, several small wires retracting from the Blood Angel’s eyes and mouth. Despite the injuries and wiring, he still retained the supernatural beauty his chapter was so well known for. He examined the tubes for a few moments. They were embedded deep within his skin, doing Throne knows what. He looked over at his men “Get the Apothecary, and call Ezekiel. We need all the help we can get.” He demanded. 

There was a flurry of Vox calls and Azrael gently stroked the face of the Blood Angel. He was ghostly pale, his breathing shaky, his lips cracked and bleeding. When he looked closer, he could see his tongue had been removed. He rocked him slowly “Shhh, shhh, you’re safe now, your brothers are coming for you.” He assured him, “You’ll be ok.” 

He looked around the room. He could see a dismantled set of power armor, long-forgotten weaponry, and several drawings of the Sanctus-Potentia. It looked more like a torture chamber than anything else. He stroked the Astarte's hair and face as the room soon filled with Dark Angels. Razaek was the one to approach, trimming away at the tubes and wires carefully. Once the man was freed he fell like a puppet with his strings cut, and Azrael was quick to wrap his cloak around him, cradling him to his chest “This planet…Was fueled by pure evil.” He hissed. 

As he left the chamber, holding the man to his chest, he could hear the people screaming as they flooded the streets. His men formed to protect him, shoving civilians away as they made their way to the ship. If he were to have his way, this planet would be nothing but ash by the time the Blood Angels arrived. 

“You’re safe now, I promise you, you’re safe.”

[thegreatdepravity]

Today I am baking cookies and decorating them. I had super fun and managed to make some AB cookieme 😃It was super fun decorating them and I am very proud of (some of) them ^^

[thegreatdepravity]

The Angel

(Honsou is a shit caretaker and I decided to write a fic about it, also gives me an opportunity to write the Ultramarines dealing with a small child)

Tags: None really? Captivity hinted, mild child abuse

My Choir: @druidwolf21 @artemisareia @cardinalcanis @kit-williams @wolf-feathers12

@adhd-fandom-hyperfocus

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@undeaddream @platinummice @thisuserislilsilly

@finchly-tintinnabulation @callmeluckyifyoulike

@beckyninja @meervalv0

@cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @echo-of-damnation

@hatsubara-8chan @staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Arien had never been allowed outside of the four walls his Keeper had constructed for him. It made sense. The world was so dangerous, there were countless threats, and Honsou just wanted him safe. So here he stayed. Here he was fed, cared for, and loved. So why, he wondered to himself, had he gone about doing something as foolish as leaving the keep? Maybe it was just because it was simple. He had just been curious if he could open the door to the rest of the complex maze than made up their home, and he could. He had just turned a knob and it had opened to endless steel hallways and towering columns. He had hesitated. Honsou had gone to meet with Fabius, he wouldn’t be home for another two days. What if he became lost? What if Honsou came home and realized there was nothing tasty for him to eat? What if the bed wasn’t made? If his uniforms hadn’t been washed? 

All those thoughts whirled through his mind as he took a few steps down the hall. The bells on his ankles had jingled with each step, the golden chains with glass beads on his wings twinkling with each slow, measured movement. He wondered where the hallways led. He followed the one before him, it seemed to go straight, and when he turned his head he could still see the door of his home. Slowly. He reminded himself. He wouldn’t go far. That he promised himself. Then he heard a sound. It was soft at first. A dull thud from beneath him. He looked down, kneeling down as he listened to the sound. Another thud. It sounded the same as when Honsou punched the wall when he was frustrated. He got on his knees as he heard a faint call “DIE HERETIC!” A voice shouted, and Arien reeled back in surprise. 

He touched the floor again, wings spreading as he looked for some seam or crack, soon locating a vent on the wall and crawling over, leaning towards the vent. Honsou told him air moves through vents, so maybe his voice could? Was his voice air? He’d have to ask when he got the chance “Hello?” He called, waiting as the thudding stopped. 

“You! You I can hear you! Who am I speaking to?” The voice suddenly called, much louder now. The tone was demanding “Answer me quickly.”

“I’m Arien. Who are you?” He asked, lying on his side “Why are you underground?” 

There was a pause “...I’m Uriel. You…Stay where you are, and hold very very still, child.” The voice ordered, and Arien cocked his head as he held still. There was a buzzing sound before the floor abruptly gave out and he fell with a terrified squeal. He found himself quickly surrounded by figures in bright blue armor, and he was quickly grabbed by one of them and held up as a bright light flashed and he rubbed his eyes.

“No signs of trackers, and he shows no signs of chaos…My readings are coming up as a Primarch Secundus. We should bring him back to Macragge, have him looked over by the Chapter Master and Chief Librarian.” The metallic voice of the strange being only served to startled Arien further, and he began to feel tears welling in his eyes.

“Shh, do not cry. You are safe now. No one will harm you.” The blue armored man assured “Now…The daemonculaba is destroyed, let us leave this wretched place.” 

Arien kept squirming “No! You’ll get me in trouble!” He complained, squirming and thrashing. 

“No, no, you’re going somewhere much nicer now. Come along child. No more complaining.” The blue juggernaut said before marching off. 

Arien fought and cried the entire trip to the ship, and the entire trip through the warp, and right up until he was placed on an exam table in front of a large bald man whos head was full of wires. He felt a tingling in his head as the bald man sighed “The child holds no evil. He’s just loud. Now, little one, let’s take some deep breaths, hm?” He urged.

Arien refused, sobbing loudly “I WANNA GO HOME!” He wailed, and the bald man sighed.

“No, you’re staying here. Will you feel better if we got you a snack? A toy? What do you need, child?” He asked.

He considered the man’s offer, and sniffled, wiping his eyes “I…I…I want some tea..” He sniffled. 

The man stared for a few moments “..Tea? What kind of tea?” He asked. 

“..I like cinnamon tea with lemon and honey.” Arien hiccupped as the man offered him tissues. 

“That does sound nice.” He turned and nodded at a person in grey robes who hurried off “So, what’s your name, little one?” He asked. 

“I’m Arien. Honsou said it meant dreamer. What’s your name?” He asked, cleaning himself up.

The man smiled, sitting down on a chair “My name is Varro Tigurius, and my name means ‘Strong’.” He explained “What were you doing with Honsou?” Varro leaned closer.

Arien had to think for a moment “Mmm.. I mostly do chores. Sometimes I get to read and I’m starting to learn high gothic.” He swung his legs which dangled off the table, clearly meant for someone far larger. 

“Oh? Has Honsou told you why he was watching you?” Varro asked, the grey-robed person reappearing with a cart with tea and some food “Thank you.” He mouthed to them.

Arien tried to recall, scrunching his freckled nose “Mmm..He said I needed to stay with him while I grew cause there wasn’t room back home with Bile. He said I was too little to be around the other things he made.” He explained as he was given a tea cup. 

“I see. Well, for now, we’ll help you grow ok? We’ll find someone very nice to watch you.” Varro assured. For some reason, Arien trusted him.Varro picked up a brightly colored pastry “Until then, I will keep you with me. Here, try this.” He offered it to Arien who accepted it. 

He took a bite, eyes widening before he shoved the entire pastry in hi smouth, chewing and swallowing. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad.