#I can provide proof for any of those so go ahead and ask

[haylorology]

Lol, the parallels & coincidences (a stretch) with Haylor is funny. Little things (her demo -Live for the LT, 1D single). Her Anti-Hero, he sang a line of DB’s Heroes (lyrics sad- reminds of Long Live) for X-Factor. His part was “Though nothing, nothing will keep us together”- lol, reminds me of WANEGBT. Her Superman single, he sang a line about krypotonite in One Thing -“Shot me out of the sky/You're my kryptonite/You keep making me weak Yeah, frozen and can't breathe.” Both fathers with financial backgrounds, and so on. Some of this stuff was before they met.

Okay okay the thing about Haylor parallels is that they are crazyyyyy and they have been around since before they got together (I should know I had a haylor account on instagram in September 2012 I think or October 2012)

To give y’all some example, the fact that they both love romcoms, more specifically Love, Actually. The fact that they have the same music taste and have specifically mentioned the same albums and artists as sources of inspiration. They both have mentioned the album Blue by Joni Mitchell, mick jagger, Stevie nicks, etc. Harry is into older blonde women and taylor is older than him and blonde, she was also his celebrity crush, and despite what ppl think Taylor did have a crush on Harry when 1D was big (not Zayn)

So either Harry based his whole personality on Taylor, or they are mf soulmates lmao (sorry to the ppl that don’t think so)

#I can provide proof for any of those so go ahead and ask #my parents are soulmates #haylor #ask

[darkcircles4lyfe]

Love in Chaos

The way chapter 393 seized me from the inside out, brought me to my knees, smiling with fierce glee—it was all the proof I needed. All at once, a checklist I didn’t even know I was keeping started getting all its boxes ticked. I’ll admit that for some time, I haven’t been sure exactly how Toga’s story should be handled for her to get the care, nuance, and dignity she deserves. So I’ve been resigned, waiting to see what Horikoshi has to say about it. I didn’t know until I saw it, but I can tell we’re on exactly the same page.

This fight between Ochako and Toga—or should I say Himiko, since ya know, they’re both on a first name basis now—it’s a kind of breaking point for the overarching narrative and its themes. Here is where the big questions about hero/villain society are not only asked, but answered. Himiko, more than any of the other main villains, was branded with that label as far back as she can remember, without her having done anything except exist. Thus, she carries the weight of their society’s problems and becomes a symbol of the injustice in prejudice and fear, the brutal agony of being rejected by the world. I’ve maintained this resolve about the story for a long time: I will not be satisfied with an ending that constitutes a return to normal, or even a slightly amended normal. I know that it would be a disservice to Himiko if she were made to fit into society again, whether that be in death or reform or containment. Society has to change for her. After 393, I can tell that Horikoshi knows this too.

It’s the way Ochako steps up to this conversation so boldly and positions herself on Himiko’s side. When Himiko dismisses her words as fickle, claims she’ll go back on them and do horrible things to punish her according to hero society, Ochako comes right back and says no, this isn’t about what you’ve done, this is about you. I see you. I see your beautiful smile and I want to protect it.

Throughout her life, Himiko has not been treated like a real person, so of course this is what she needs. No lecture on morals could disarm her the way acceptance can. It’s also extremely refreshing and reassuring to see Himiko being taken seriously. I’m so incredibly excited for Ochako to accomplish such a completely transgressive act of unconditional love against this harsh world. I could stare in awe of the panels in this chapter for hours, how they’re drawn at the exact intersection of beauty, pain, and honesty. Grotesque violence and elegance. Power and vulnerability. I was so overcome that, for a while, I failed to register a crucial implication.

Enter: The Female Vampire Carmilla

She is referenced merely in passing, but as a rejected villain name for Himiko, speaks volumes. It’s difficult for me to find the words to summarize… perhaps you’ve heard by now that Carmilla is a gothic horror novella about a lesbian vampire. THE lesbian vampire, in fact—the one who popularized the trope. Knowing this, it is simple enough to apply the story of Laura and Carmilla in parallel to Ochako and Himiko, and register it as direct proof of the dynamic’s sapphic undertones being acknowledged and intentional. I mean. Look at them.

Yeah. But that’s not all. That isn’t what really makes it noteworthy. Put in context: Himiko has been called a soulless inhuman vampire since childhood, and shunned for it. To her, this or any villain name would be a reminder of her lack of agency in identity. Add to this the overall themes of 393 I just described, and suddenly it becomes clear that Himiko is set in contrast against much of what Carmilla, as a fearful narrative about the supernatural, represents.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me provide some details about Carmilla for those who aren’t familiar. The story was written in 1872 by Sheridan Le Fanu, and belongs to a genre characterized by a revival of Gothic aesthetics in service of providing mystery, intrigue, and suspense to a very Victorian expression of fear. On top of that, Carmilla directly influenced Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and set the precedent for many vampire portrayals to come. Many female vampire characters reference her at least in their name, and the novella has been adapted and reinterpreted countless times. Because of this, it is admittedly difficult to be sure of Horikoshi’s familiarity with the original, or pinpoint any other potential influence he may have picked up from another adaptation. One could quite literally write a whole book about the many iterations and widespread impact of Carmilla. This is why, however, I believe I can confidently say that Himiko being compared to a female vampire has implications that are felt no matter one’s familiarity with the origin of the trope. Certain things are baked into the definition through generations of media. The female (lesbian) vampire implies predation, deception, lust, a danger to innocent young women. She represents an inhuman desire that must be vanquished.

In the novella, the main character Laura becomes a fast, intimate friend to Carmilla, a strikingly beautiful and captivating young lady who has suddenly appeared in her life. Laura admires and loves Carmilla dearly, but feels conflicted in moments where Carmilla is overcome by a desire that is explicitly compared to that of a lover. She talks of blood, death, sacrifice, and unity all while holding her close and kissing her. Whether or not this is hot, or whether Laura reciprocates any desire is, I guess, up to interpretation. But one thing is for sure: the ending of the story is not in Carmilla’s favor. I’d argue it’s not in Laura’s favor either. Look, I was an English major. I’m very familiar with discussions along the lines of “is ___ gay?” and “is ___ a sympathetic portrayal of ___ ?” It’s definitely gay, but the rest is unclear. There might be a tangent to go on about how Le Fanu’s complicated relationship with religion may have informed his characterization of General Spielsdorf and the other men who hunted down Carmilla’s grave and destroyed her. Regardless, there is narrative injustice in the way Laura is removed from these events, sent home and only told about what happened later. She loses agency. Her narrations become distant and clinical. In the very end, she describes being plagued by visions of Carmilla, sometimes as her beloved companion, and sometimes as a fearful monster. To me, this represents the lack of closure she has, either to reconcile these two sides of her, or mourn her loss.

There is also so much we’ll never know about Carmilla herself. The finality of her condemnation silences the multifaceted character that was only partially revealed to us. There is an inferred humanity to her, a self-awareness, a true romanticism, that gets dismissed by the people’s understanding of what a vampire is: a deception.

Keep in mind this tragedy. Fast forward through countless vampire portrayals to the present, to Himiko. What a contrast indeed. Remember, she does not want to be called “Carmilla,” or “Vampire.” To make such a reference in a chapter that is showcasing Ochako’s acceptance of Himiko implies that the trope is being broken. It is as if Laura were to go running to Carmilla’s grave herself, throw her own body over her in protection, and shun everyone else’s superstition and desire for vengeance.

(footnote: the above is supposed to say “Himiko-chan” but you know who is a buttface)

Here’s the kicker: since female vampires are so closely tied to negative and predatory portrayals of lesbians, this humanization of Himiko also suggests that her queerness will likewise be treated openly and sympathetically, because there no longer exists an allegory that could be used for dismissing it. Ochako has already made monumental assertions in this chapter. By saying she admires her openness and envies her beautiful smile, and by presenting complete vulnerability in offering her blood, she swiftly separates herself from the lifetime of persecution Himiko has dealt with. It all represents so much more than those who mistakenly call it “yuri pandering” could hope to understand. This is the real deal. 

So what is this talk about romance they’re supposed to have? I firmly believe whatever Ochako says, it has to be a very surprising revelation, for both Himiko as well as us, the audience. Otherwise all the hype and mystery makes no sense. If Ochako has something so important to say, it can’t be to confirm Himiko’s assumptions. Whenever I try to dissect the exact possibilities, I get hopelessly tangled up in semantics, but ultimately I just hope to get Ochako’s perspective in full, especially as it relates to what other people think of her.

Actually, I had an idea while writing this. I saw someone on twitter (I think jokingly) bring up the All Might doll, like oh god, what if it comes up again. Ok but listen. There’s a LOT of potential symbolism in the token from Izuku that Ochako has kept being a doll of All Might specifically. We all know it calls to mind Izuku’s emulation of All Might, which resulted in the aspects of Izuku that Ochako herself admired. We can also easily infer that during the mission to rescue Izuku, Ochako saw the darker side of these traits. Okay, so here’s another wrinkle: All Might, as a near mythical figure, represents hero society. He’s the hero archetype, an upholder of the status quo, “peace,” and his weakening under all the pressure implies a flawed system.

Nighteye predicted All Might’s death, but also admitted that a strong enough collective will can change the course of his predictions. Ochako sites Nighteye’s own death as an origin for her beginning to question who exactly in this world needs saving. If you know my meta, you know that I believe All Might needs to die in symbol only. Right now, Ochako is throwing out an awful lot of things heroes take for granted. Things everyone takes for granted. The outcome of this fight could be a turning point in the war that completely changes the tone. If Ochako is to accomplish this by way of an intimate talk of romance, well…

Bye-bye, All Might!

#for the record I love toshinori so much #bnha 393 #bnha manga #mha #toga himiko #uraraka ochako #togachako #meta #lin speaks #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[biografter]

rambling about biograft x slingshot

people wanted this post and i shall provide !!

long post ahead, be warned

already so the first thing i should mention is that. bioshot started off as a joke because one of my friends who was playing slingshot kept complaining about dying to biograft, one of my other friends went “omg biograft slingshot enemies to lovers”, and then another friend wrote damn good fanfiction about them so thats how it started and now its somehow one of my favorite ships.

naturally, its more of a dynamics thing. biograft is an…interesting character to experiment with in terms of Relationships, namely because of the fact that its a robot who struggles to express a thing and was built to murder things.

take that in contrast with slingshot who lives a very slice of lifey life. owns a quaint little cat cafe, roommates with a pair of siblings who get up to various hijinks, loves his shoes, spends his days baking and cooking, just a kind and zealous fella overall.

biograft also doesnt exactly. Know a lot. poor fella has no clue what money is. and there are some avenues to go down with that.

take this piece of dialogue for example:

this is a lie. biograft frequently asks questions about what things are and if its dialogue with vine staff is proof of anything, it does retain answers to those questions and puts them to use when it can. biograft Can be taught, it just either:

1: doesn’t think it should learn anything

2: doesnt believe it can be taught due to the idea that it was built for one purpose and that it must stick to that purpose or its useless.

3: doesnt want to be taught or dare to step outside of its strict boundaries of interacting primarily with blackrock.

so, whats a better way to break that any one of those mindsets down than deciding out of the blue that, yes, it wants to know more about foot wear? what if slingshot teaches it about other things like baking or how to perform basic tasks around the house? after all, biograft seems fine sleeping in a closet and 3 idiots in an apartment can make quite a mess, there’s nothing bad about having extra hands around.

what if that line of thought goes all the way down to becoming genuinely acquainted with each other? casually learning more about the other as time goes one, biograft stepping further and further away from its original programming to help slingshot and learn more about the world and slingshot slowly spending more and more time to help the robot out.

and yknow, what if they help each other learn a bit about other things along the way?

also its juuuuust a hint of projection + wish fulfillment and if youve followed me long enough you can probably tell who is the slingshot to my biograft cough cough help me

so yeah thats why im weird as fuck

#im not tagging this as ph//ighting nuh uh i do not want people to see this post and laugh at me for being cringe #robo’s random ramblings #long post #bioshot

[twstedpometea]

Tiny Ugi-Updates

I was recently messaged some things and publicly want to acknowledge a few points and add in some of my own dialogue.

For those who sent me more proof of Ugigiugi’s tracing from other artist and graphics: Thank you.

Now onto the next section.

Originally I had asked a friend on Deviantart about the Ugigiugi  situation and what was going on there. It’s become apparent either  Ugigiugi either deleted or stored some of her DA submissions as she went down from roughly 500ish Twisted Wonderland illustrations to around 482 drawings. (They also noticed Ugigiugi disabled comments on her profile.) There is still no actual acknowledgement or dialogue either about from her side so I’m going to assume she has no desire to say anything or is just trying to brush stuff under the rug. That being said l I had asked my friend to check in with DevinatArt about what their policies are for tracing were and reporting. So I’m going to go ahead and state this: Tracing would fall under DeviantArt’s DMCA/Copyright claim. As I stated previously, people who are the original artists; who’s works have  been traced will need to go ahead and file a DMCA/Copyright claim against UgigiUgi. I’ll provide the links for anyone who is going to try and get into contact with any known artist who's had their work copied.

http://about.deviantart.com/policy/copyright/ https://about.deviantart.com/dmca Please note that ONLY the original artists can file a complain against Ugigiugi as this is a legal procedure. Keep in mind that no on else can act as a middle man. Only the original artist can make the claim. Other then that all I can say is if anyone here on the Twst Fandom is on DA, just let your friends know to be wary of Ugigiugi. And I’ll address this right now. Please take note I am not asking people to harass Ugigiugi  or anything of the sort. But at this same time, I wouldn’t trust her within the fandom space. As an adult, she should be acknowledging her mistakes and being honest about things she’s traced. However, if someone cannot be honest, then their digital footprint will do the talking for them. Especially as it seems she has no issues trying to make her own original content out of traced work. In this case it would be best for the Twisted  Wonderland fandom to continue to not support her and block her for the  sake of protecting their own art. She’s likely just going to wait for the drama to die off before she comes back and probably traces from someone again. -TwstedPomeTea

#Pome tea talk #tw: ugigiugi #twst discourse #twst drama #Ugigiugi

[talkfantasytome]

We're Not Monsters - I'm Not a Creep

Nesta agrees to take Cassian for a run.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 2,238 | Nessian Masterlist

Previous Part | We're Not Monsters Masterlist | Read on AO3

a/n: It's baaaaaaack...and let's all thank @nessianweek and AU Day for giving me the push I needed!

Nesta followed Gwyn into the room, looking like she was ready to go on a rampage. It had Cassian's heart beating as loud as a drum.

"Everything okay, Nes?"

"Don't call me that!" she snapped at him, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that emphasized her generous breasts. Cassian had to consciously keep himself from flicking his gaze down to them. She closed her eyes as she breathed deeply, and Cassian want to protest at her taking away his view of those brilliant, stormy irises. "I'm going to go for a run. Gwyn, are you okay here with them?"

Gwyn nodded, but Cassian barely noticed as his eyes widened. "Oh, can't I go with you? Please?!"

"We agreed you all would stay in the house."

"I know, but I'm dying," he groaned. "I need to do something and there's really not enough room here for much physical activity."

She pursed her lips. "I can't have you running away. We'll get in so much trouble if we let a demon loose."

"I can guarantee that won't happen. You really think I'm going to run away from you?" He flashed her a small half-smile, and he couldn't help but notice the way the corner of her lips twitched upward just a bit.

"Fine," she sighed, sounding more exasperated than she looked. "I think I have some clothes from an old boyfriend you can borrow. I'll just have to do a little magic to make them bigger. Stay here."

With that, Nesta floated upstairs as Cassian tried to balance his glee with the sinking feeling in his stomach at her words. It's not that he had any right to be jealous, but he definitely didn't like hearing about Nesta having an old boyfriend. Especially one whose clothes she still had.

Why did she keep them? Were they just extremely comfortable? Were they relics from a love she regretted losing? A trophy of sorts? Did she wear the clothes often? Bask in the scent this boyfriend left behind?

Were they forgotten at the back of her drawers? Or proof that her heart belonged to someone else?

He jumped at a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he found that Nesta had returned. Apparently he'd been pacing.

"Here, I meant to burn them, but never got around to it. Lucky you." She handed him the clothes, and Cassian let out a loud sigh. Burning was good. Well, good enough. Those words gave him the ability to admire Nesta's new outfit. The tight leggings and well fitted pullover, showing off every one of her curves in a way that practically had him salivating.

Taking the clothes, Cassian changed in the bathroom as Nesta instructed, only bothering to put on the shorts. Running would warm him up quickly enough. Plus, he wasn't disappointed by the lingering, rolling gaze Nesta gave him when he came back into the living room.

It took her a moment to collect herself, but she didn't say anything, probably not wanting to admit to whatever she was thinking. It didn’t stop Cassian from throwing her a crooked, cocky smile.

Nesta rolled her eyes and let out a huff. "We'll see you both in a bit," she offered to Gwyn and Az before beginning out the door, Cassian following her. But she didn't go far. Nesta stopped in the middle of the front yard.

He was about to ask when he saw Nesta pull one arm across her chest with the other and realized she was doing some warm up stretches. He joined her, stretching out the muscles in his legs and arms, following her lead and keeping his eyes down. It was an effort when he saw her doing toe touches, knowing what view those leggings would be providing. But he held strong. He'd wait to stare at her ass so blatantly until she gave him permission.

"All right, stay close, don't run ahead of me, and don't go chasing any squirrels," Nesta ordered.

Cassian couldn't help but laugh as they started to jog at an easy pace. "I'm not an actual dog, Nes."

"Call me that again and I'll turn around and end this jog." They turned down a street to a road that was much longer than the one Nesta lived on. It was lined with trees and brightly colored mailboxes that all stood at the end of identical driveways. Most of the houses were the same two-story structure as Nesta's, but many of them had been repainted and landscaped to show their own personality. One or two seemed to have been renovated with additions or entirely rebuilt.

It was…quaint. At least, Cassian thought that was the word. Nothing in the Underworld could be described that way, so it was hard for him to know. Everything down there was designed to look ominous or threatening. He wasn't sure why. They could easily do everything they did from nicer looking neighborhoods like this one.

At the end of this street was a large park. Nesta led Cassian across the road and onto a running path that seemed to go around the entire area.

"So, why don't you want to go back?"

Nesta's words cut through Cassian's mind, drawing his attention away from the little pond they were passing and the ducks swimming there. "Uh…what?"

Well, that was a great response. Definitely the type to show Nesta he wasn't just the idiot werewolf she seemed to think he was.

"The Underworld," she clarified. "You and Azriel seem pretty intent on staying as long as we'll let you. Why is that? Why don't you want to go home?"

"Everyone needs a vacation Nes…ta." He caught himself just before the scolding came. She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrows raised. Cassian loosed a sigh. "Honestly, down there, it's hell."

Nesta snorted softly. "Sorry," she breathed when Cassian gave her a questioning look. "But, you know that's literally what most humans call the Underworld, right?"

"Yes, Nesta, I'm aware," he chuckled. "And obviously I don't mean hell in that literal sense." He lifted his arm and flicked her cheek softly. The amusement in her eyes nearly sent his heart soaring. "Then again, on some levels it is a lot like that. Not the eternal punishment thing, but it still sucks. It's dark all the time, and we don't have any living plants. Just dead bushes and trees, and dirt. A lot of dirt. We have houses and technology, it is a whole other world, but it's not as varied. It's main function is for work."

"Yeah, Az mentioned something about that. About how you all can do your work remotely and don't have to come up here? How does that work?"

Cassian didn't really want to talk about the entire structure of the Underworld. But if it kept Nesta engaged and speaking to him, he'd do it for a week straight. "Mostly through magic. Most demons have some small amount of magic. That's always been how we do our work - we use that magic to implant temptations, negative thoughts, dangerous desires, and more. The reason we had to come to Earth was because we typically needed to see the human, know them, to use that magic. Once we knew a person, we never had to go back to find them. Now, we can watch you all from our computers, get to know you and see you through the screen, and then play with your mind from the Underworld."

"That's creepy," Nesta cringed. "You all watch us?"

"Pretty much," he admitted. "Well, I mean, I don't. Not all demons do that work. Most of the werewolves are part of the armies of the Underworld. There are seven different princes of Hell, each one has their own army and their own demons who work for them. And they each get a different part of the Earth. The prince Az and I work for has North America. I lead his armies, Az manages all the demons."

"So Az is the creepy one?"

"Yup, exactly, remember that. Not me. Definitely not a creep over here." He gave her an awkward grin that seemed to force a small laugh from her.

Nesta 'hmmmm'd' in disbelief and turned them down a path that took them through a large garden. "Is that why Az was the demon who showed up when Gwyn did her spell?"

"It's possible," Cassian replied, his nose feeling a bit itchy. "I'm not sure why he was the one who got summoned, versus a lower demon in his organization. But i-it-it's unsurprising it wa-a-A-CHOO!" Cassian felt himself spit and spray all over the air. "Whoa. That felt weird."

"What? The sneeze?"

"Is that what that was?" Interesting. Cassian had never sneezed before, but he'd heard of them. He was about to tell Nesta just that when another one came on, this one even stronger.

Nesta came to a stop. "Okay, first of all, cover your mouth when you do that. Also, what is going on with you?"

"I'm not sure," he sighed, scratching at his arm. And then the back of his neck. "But I feel kinda weird. I definitely think another sneeze is coming. And I'm itchy all over."

Those blue-grey eyes surveyed the area, and were then scrunching up with her nose. "You probably have hay fever."

"What's that?"

"Uh, basically, you're allergic to nature," she explained. "Your body reacts negatively to it."

Well, that sucks. Cassian was finally able to experience grass and trees and flowers, only to find out that he couldn't be around them.

It seemed Nesta could read his thoughts on his face, because she added, "It's not a big deal. I have it, too. But I take medication for it. I can give you some tonight, so that the effects don't last. But we should probably head back so they don't get worse. And we definitely should leave the garden."

"But the flowers are so pretty!"

"And they're the worst when it comes to hay fever." Cassian pouted and Nesta gave him a sympathetic look. "But, maybe, if you're good tonight and not so annoying, I can bring you back here tomorrow, heavily medicated so you're not so affected."

Cassian's eyes widened as he practically shouted, "Deal!" There was no way he was going to pass up on that opportunity.

Nesta chuckled softly and turned, leading him back out of the garden and toward her house. Cassian didn't know exactly what 'being good' would entail, but whatever it was, he would do it. He'd been having the best conversation with Nesta he'd had so far, and if getting out of the house with her was the only way to do that, he'd do it again in a heartbeat. With or without this medication.

It was an effort not to laugh.

Of course, Nesta felt for Cassian. Allergies were the worst. But seeing this literal beast of a man become slow, slouchy, and sniffly because of a few trees was slightly amusing.

She was a bit upset to have to cut the run short, as shocking as that was. Nesta had actually been enjoying their conversation. The Underworld had always been a mystery to witches. And she was enjoying this other side of Cassian, a guy who was surprisingly easy and enjoyable to talk to.

"So," Cassian sniffled as they walked back down her street, "you're a witch."

"I am," Nesta confirmed.

"What's that like?"

Nesta shrugged, "Hard to say. I've been one my whole life. It's just who I am. I mean, what's it like being a werewolf?"

"Touché," Cassian chuckled just as Nesta opened the door for them.

"We're home!"

Gwyn rushed into the small foyer, looked a bit flushed and winded. "That was fast! I was expecting you to be gone for at least another half hour."

"Apparently, demons can get allergies, too. And I wasn't going to run alongside a constantly sneezing werewolf," Nesta explained, flashing Cassian a smirk. He smiled back at her, a twinkle in his eye.

Gwyn nodded in understanding, tucking her hair behind an ear. It was a nervous habit of hers. Why Gwyn would be nervous, Nesta had no idea. But she was going to find out. After a shower.

"Could Cassian use your shower?" Nesta asked, removing her shoes on the mat by the door.

Cassian perked up even more at that comment. "Oh, there's no need for that. We can share." He sent her a hazel wink.

Easy come, easy go. Though, Nesta didn't really mind the comment like she had been earlier. That run must've tired her out more than she thought. Or maybe it's just all the chaos of the weekend finally catching up with her. Either way, she simply responded with a small roll of her eyes and then headed up to her own bathroom as Gwyn agreed to Cassian using hers.

As she washed herself, Nesta couldn't stop her mind from wandering to the other being using up their hot water. To dark, shoulder-length hair he was likely lathering with shampoo right at that moment, to the abs she'd spent the past hour trying not to stare at, the corded muscles in his arms that rippled with each move step he'd taken on their jog. That vee of muscles she'd seen leading to his shorts, and something else…

Fuck.

This was going to be a problem.

a/n: I know, I know, it's been a while. But I always planned to come back to this, and look! I did it! 😄 Yay me! Hopefully, with spooky season coming, I'll have motivation for more. Plus, I like some of the stuff I did in this. Like the actual world building. And that's definitely bringing this back to the Halloween fic feel it was supposed to have. So fingers crossed!

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @lady-winter-sunrise @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @clemidansleschoux @meher-sumedha @labetenoir @vinylcryes @shinya-hiiragi @starryblueskies7 @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @aks18 @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red

#nessianweek2022 #nessian fic #nesta archeron #nessian #fan fiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #gwynriel fic #witch valkyries #witches #witch au #cassian #demons #werewolf #werewolf!cassian #witch!nesta

[tavarillasgalen]

I have such bad experiences trying to get mental health treatment.

Like, medical treatment as a whole is WAY too expensive, but this is different. This is people charging you for appointments you cancelled well ahead of time, going back an adding on charging to past appointments and ergo sending your bank account into the red because they charged you without warning, you call them about it, they say it's an insurance thing, except... That's not how insurance works. It doesn't just take money from your account unless you have auto pay on, which I did not. And it has to send you statements with any adjustments or whatever, but that never happened. This has happened to me once before, and I'm concerned it will happen again because I made an appointment just by looking up providers on my insurance without checking reviews first... And the reviews were almost entirely complaints about that. So I cancelled the appointment immediately, but I still had to harrass them for a cancellation confirmation email. They sent it eventually, so now, at least, if they try to charge me, I have that documented proof. But I'm very concerned they're going to try to charge me hundreds of dollars even though I never filled out the registration forms and I cancelled the appointment almost 2 weeks in advance because... That is what people like that do.

I try therapy, and mention I have constant passive suicidal ideation, and the therapist acts like it's an emergency situation, even though I try to emphasize that like... It's Passive not Active. Another therapist tries to force me to do EMDR and will hear of nothing else. Another therapist doesn't believe me when I tell them about some of my traumas. Conversely, another therapist DID believe me... But then pressured me to report the person, even when I repeatedly said I didn't want to do that. The two therapists I actually liked were too expensive to see long term, especially when one of them moved further away.

I try meds and they say you may have to try a bunch before you find the right ones, but like... Some made me worse. Others made me physically ill. Others made me hallucinate. Others gave me horrific eczema. None of them made much of a difference, and definitely nowhere near enough of a difference to justify the side effects. I see yet another psychiatrist and he says to try this drug that is $1000 a month, which.... There's no way I can afford that.

And others still, even with a well-documented history, IN THEIR SYSTEM, which i know because I saw other doctors at the exact same place, claimed that my information wasn't in the system, badgered me about whether or not I REALLY had anxiety and was I SURE I had bipolar, did I have documented PROOF of that, and got angry at me for not being able to remember all the meds I'd been on off the top of my head, consistently claiming I had no records in the system and he couldnt get them from someone else, until I was sobbing in his office. And finally, in the most condescending way, he finally prescribed things I'd already been on and acted like I had a meltdown over nothing. When I KNEW he had access to my records, because i'd seen so many doctors at this place, and ones I'd said nothing of my medical history to asked me if I was still taking things I hadn't taken in years.

And then others still who put the blame on you. If you're anxious, that's stupid, just do it! If you get depressed, just get out in the sun, eat better, exercise! If you're manic, then well... You're just crazy. And like sure, those things can all help a bit, but they're not cures, not for a lot of people. It's not like people choose to have mental illnesses.

It just makes me furious. Sure, there are good mental health providers out there, I know. But I've been trying so hard to find treatment that works for me for nearly a decade, and while there were those two good (expensive!!) therapists and one good doctor who helped with meds but ultimately determined I needed more help than they could give me, it has been overwhelmingly negative. And then you try to talk about it, and people are so condescending. People of the "therapy works for everyone!" group try to tell you you just need to keep looking. People of the "mental illness is fake and attention-seeking, actually" group try to make you feel guilty for even having the problems that you do in the first place and that the only reason why you have them is because you are lazy or whatever.

Like, I manage pretty ok on my own, thankfully. I've had to learn how. But I feel so condescended to about treatment from all sides. And it's like, yes, I want to be better and all this but like... I've tried so fucking hard for so long and if anything, it's just wasted money and made things worse.

#personal #just get help! #as supposed help is a nightmare

[jadsez]

The two hiking shoes that saved me from the East to the West and North to the South!

Angel’s Landing, National Park Utah, Hellroaring Trail, Yellowstone Montana, Grand Teton Wyoming, Texas Hill Country and even Florida Everglades. All owned pairs of Adidas shoes were torn after a couple of days in Lost Maples– and so were my weak ankles. R.I.P. 

The views were worth the huge drop-offs and narrow ledges, for the fearless souls not afraid of heights. The cardio you put in is a grind your feet will resent you for if you don’t wear the right gear. Thinking about the terrain: it was narrow, there were cliff walls (might’ve slipped eight times…i’m not counting) and rocky dirt terrain. I get asked multiple times by non-experienced hikers for the best hiking shoes recommendations and my answer is always the same, “Not cloth Adidas.” Having pleasant and suitable hiking shoes that can double as fashion in downtown is a literal game changer.

I’ve been an Avid hiker since 2017 when I took a spontaneous road trip across the northern states and hiked around 20 miles altogether If you want to learn the hard way with blisters on your feet after a couple of hours go right ahead, but I have researched and experienced some fantastic alternatives for shoes that could take you over 1,000 miles. The Hoka One One Kaha GORE-TEX® Hiking Shoes are the way to go.

With excellent strength and support, The HOKA ONE ONE® Women's Kaha GORE-TEX® Hiking Shoes provide the grit and grip for the wet and dry conditions hiking trails WILL definitely take you on. After a long foreboding first experience trail without any prep in the northern states, I ordered a pair of the Hoka’s for the unpredictable Texas Hill Country during the Fall and they did not disappoint.

Now, the kind of shoe you may be looking for definitely depends on the type of hiking shoes that meets YOUR needs. It is honestly a personal preference as everyone can argue mine. However, for someone who likes to wear supportive and Water-Resistant shoes with a lacing system for my weak ankles, the Hoka’s were a perfect fit. 

Mind you I emphasized “Water-Resistant” as these are not waterproof. Tailoring your hiking shoes to the type of terrain and climate is important but the Hoka’s are perfect for the following:

Backpacking

Desert Peaks

Inclined and Narrow hikes

Off-trail cross-country hiking

Luckily, I've realized my Floridian blood would take over sooner than expected. After being homesick I decided to head back home to Florida and bought suited shoes for the next challenge: The Everglades National Park. Hiking shoes for water activities definitely means Water-Proof shoes. Florida is known for its hot and rainy days and if a certain hike requires water encounter, walking up streams, and a possible mud pit, then I would recommend some On Women's Cloudrock Waterproof Hiking Boots. They are lightweight, quick drying, water-proof, and windproof hiking shoes.  

These Cloudrock shoes have a unique build with two types of mesh in the mid and forefoot of the shoe that helped with my rolling ankles. The high collar wasn’t tight like other shoes that cut off your circulation but quite snug, and the cuff held my breathable socks up while my clumsiness took over near the Hammock Trail (yep, I rolled my ankles on my own foot too. How embarassing.)

Altogether, these are my personal recommendations from a 25 year-old clumsy intermediate hiker. Yet, when looking for hiking shoes remember they come in all forms, shapes, colors, and styles that best suit your price range, level of experience, gender, and performance speed. Even two for one kind of weathering shoes. Heck, if you want some sandal-like hiking shoes for the more liberal hikers there are many options to fit your needs! Let those toes breathe.

Until the next adventure,

Zaida 

#writing

[emotionalcommotion]

The elusive pimpernel

I'm going to jump right in with a sort of rant-

This is a bitter sweet story, one that does not yet have closure.

Last month or so, while signing the new tenancy at my estate agent's office (Judah moved in, so a new tenancy was require with both names included) - I mentioned the painting that had not yet been completed in the back of the property I rent. I was met with a look of panic followed by this explanation : ''We have folders and paperwork all over the office with properties we have on a waiting list that need painting...'' and so on, you get the gist. An idea popped into my head and before I knew it I had already finished my sentence - ''I have a painting and decorating company!'' - They asked me to send over a quote for my own property first before offering the next properties to me for quotes.

I was SO excited - FINALLY I had a potential project, I could get started! I swiftly sent them a quote and they agreed. (£700 for the front and the rear of my own property was a cheap quote - but I wanted it done.)

Let's skip over the huge disappointment that was hiring a friend of Judah's and how much went wrong. Eventually, within a couple of weeks, I sent over the completed before and after pictures of my newly painted property.

Now, two weeks after sending proof of completed work, we still have not been paid.

THAT WAS NOT THE STORY -

While starting on my own property, I was sent over a list of 14 properties that needed painting (the ones that were in those folders back at the estate agents office - remember?)

After sifting through them, I worked out which ones would need scaffolding, and I also had a list of colours that were mentioned for 7 of the houses - this is how the estate agent described the colours he wanted : Yellowish, pinkish, greenish... In other words - vague.

My mistakes at this point : I SHOULD HAVE GIVEN HIM A COLOUR CHART!!

I put together a PDF with a variation of what *my* perception was of these colours, I showed him a rough match to what I found ready available in shops as opposed to having to get them ready mixed (which can cost more- from what I could interpret, he wasn't looking to spend *too* much). I made him aware of this in the email I sent to him, I told him any variation could cost up to £80 extra per pot of paint- He got back to me and he was not entirely happy with the examples I had provided. That's not a problem! There IS a solution to every problem so I got him a colour chart - this time I went to the office in person - I handed him the charts and explained that there's a possibility that the colours he wants might not be available - I didn't feel like he had entirely taken in what I said because he instantly started asking about white and magnolia - I'd already mentioned that these are basic colours that I can easily predict the prices for, but that was his question - I wasn't really sure what he meant so I repeated - 'Whites and Magnolia are easy to get hold of and aren't expensive' he then agreed with what I said and mentioned something about finding the new colours and letting me know after he looks. As I'm walking home, I wonder if - within the 'estate agent ways', the language they use is very - sales-sales-sales - I find it confusing because I think that they sugar-coat details and try to get the best possible deal for themselves. Anyway- I'm still unsure whether he was trying to confuse me and make me tell him that the original quotes I had given him would still apply if he chose new colours that were more expensive - of course my quotes would change! As I originally told him. So we will see what happens with that situation- I know that was confusing to read, it was confusing in real life too haha!

Later on, he sent me an email with the new *specific* colours he wanted- great. I've asked the company I would order from for their availability/ pricing. Let's see!

So far, I've had no 'go ahead' for the other properties, no payment and no contact from him.

Sometimes things happen and they appear to be blessings but they can turn out to be awfully stressful and quite the opposite of a blessing, and vise-versa! Always be grateful for the experience though.

Thanks for reading if you got this far.

xoxo Chelsea.

[petculiars]

Pet Financial Aid Program

New Post has been published on https://www.petculiars.com/pet-financial-aid-program/

Pet Financial Aid Program

Petculiars.com is offering one-time financial grants of up to $1,200 USD to individuals who own pets and are struggling to pay their vet-related bills. You can use this grant as a way of covering the cost of veterinary treatment, in part or in full, for non-emergency and non-routine expenses.Since the start of this grant program I have been swamped with applications, so please don’t rely on this grant alone to cover your financial needs. Considering that the team working behind Petculiars at this point is pretty limited, only a small number of applicants will actually receive these grants. To increase your chances of getting a grant, you can also apply to other financial aid options already available on a national level. The more programs you apply to, the more chances you’ll have at getting a grant. To avoid unnecessary clogging of the grant system, please only apply to those programs that are applicable to you and your particular situation.

Application Process

To apply for this grant you will have to go through six simple steps.

You, as an applicant, will have to contact the veterinary clinic that will be treating your pet, and make sure they have no issues working with organizations offering this kind of financial help.

You will have to go through all of the content of this page and make sure you understand all the guidelines.

You will then submit a pre-screening form only if you qualify for the financial grant, based on your specific situation.

The Petculiars team will go over the information you have submitted through the pre-screening form. As soon as you passed the pre-screening phase, the team will get in contact with you and request any other needed details like proof of financial hardship.

Once the application is approved, you will receive a final confirmation email from the Petculiars team. When you have confirmation of an approved application, you can go ahead and request veterinary care from the clinic.

When payment for the treatment is requested by the clinic, you will ask for a detailed invoice for payment, which you will forward to Petculiars. Petculiars will then transfer the funds to you through a bank wire transfer.

Conditions To Qualify for Help

The application should be done before the vet treatment is done and paid for.

Your pet has to be spayed/neutered.

The grant should be specifically requested for non-routine, non-emergency veterinary care.

You must be a resident in the US or in the process of becoming one.

You will have to show some proof of financial hardship.

Other Important Guidelines

Never send over documents that would include sensitive or personal details like your bank account number or social security number unless we say so.

Among the acceptable proof of financial hardship are copies of the latest tax return, pay stubs, or recent bank statements. Other proof might be accepted as well, depending on the situation at hand.

Before you apply for this particular grant, you will need to have a diagnosis.

To reduce complicated paperwork, this grant will be sent to the individual, but only after all of the conditions have been met.

The clinic or veterinary practice providing the services will have to be based in the US.

Pre-Application Form

To start your pet financial grant process, just go through the form you’ll find below:

Please enable JavaScript in your browser to complete this form.

Name *

First

Last

Email *

Address *

Your home address

Your pet *

Dog

Cat

Other

Phone number *

Pet breed *

Your pet's breed

Pet age *

Your pet's age

Diagnosis & Estimated Cost *

Details on your pet's medical issues, veterinary needs, required treatment, and the expected cost of the treatment.

Veterinary Practice Details *

Both the full name and the full address of the veterinary clinic or practice where the diagnosis has been set will have to be added here.

Are you able to provide proof of financial hardship? *

Yes

No

Please confirm that the treatment your pet requires is non-routine and non-emergency *

Yes

No

Other important details

Do you have any other important information to add to make us understand your personal situation better? Keep in mind that you shouldn't include any personal or otherwise private details in this form field.

Submit

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn��t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

#soft vore #mawedness combat #hahaha finally! #I’ve been waiting to use that tag #implied fatal #oopsie #it’s no named character so I guess it’s not bad #I mean this is in the M4dc0m universe so don’t expect my works with these fuckers to be as sunshine as some of my N3ws¡3s ones were #2b I do hope you won’t hate me for this if you can see it

[1-800-seo]

1-800-SEO presents: — Where Is My Mind?

genre: dystopia/slight angst/escapism

pairing: Johnny Suh/Gender Neutral Reader

warnings: IV’s/needles, intravenous use of narcotics, bad coping mechanisms, alcohol use, depictions/descriptions of poverty to a degree, implied sexual activity, dreams

word count: 2506 words

in affiliation with: @127-mile ‘s

drive in fic collaboration

summary: Based in a future where your wildest dreams can be lived in for a few hours through intravenous methods, vices and virtues blur. Scraping by is all you can do, and escapism is all you live for. Maybe that will change when you meet him. (Loosely based on Inception.)

The familiar haze of mental fog clouds your mind, it coats the edges of your thoughts like a viscous syrup. You find yourself in a wheat field, the golden crops stretching for as far as the eye can see ahead of you. The swirling breeze passes over your hands and you feel it tickle, a sensation you’ve not felt in a long time. After taking a crisp piece of the surrounding plants into your hands, you feel each and every texture it offers with a fingertip. It’s not like you’ve ever touched real wheat before, you want to imprint it to memory. With the piece of crop still in your dominant hand, you turn your head, body following its arc too, and your eyes meet a cottage. The building just exudes a comforting energy, it's homely even when your real home is nothing alike. The trees that are positioned off to the side of the cottage provide the right amount of shade, one side of the house has full direct sunlight and the other is gently shaded, but in a comforting way. You drop the wheat and make your way over to the cottage. As you make your way up to the front door, following the perfectly placed path, you take in the smell of the decorative flowers that adorn the surrounding gardens. The smell of real flowers is something you’re not used to. Finally upon reaching the door, you outstretch your hand to grasp the door handle. The moment your skin makes contact with the sun-heated metal, a blinding hot white shoots across your vision, and pulls you out.

Waking up is never easy, but it’s not like you’re not used to it. The moment you open your eyes you are met with the same dingy apartment as almost every other wake up. Your arms feel weak from lack of circulation as you reach across to pull out your IV. It doesn’t sting, you’ve done this so many times, it’d be surprising if it did. As your eyes adjust to the light you start to make out the time, it’s displayed on the heads up view of your plexi-wall, and reads 11:36PM. Stars, it’d been 7 hours since you last ate, and your body is definitely letting you know as it starts to wake up from its lulled state. You shift your wobbly legs away from the crusty office chair you were sitting on and begin to make your way over to the food dispensary. You hold your palm over the sensor as a silver sachet slides out and into your palm. You make quick work of depositing its contents into a bowl and mixing it with hot water, your hunger spurring you to be swifter.

Before you know it, all of the food has been devoured, your stomach full, and the night is ready to be conquered. You have no desire to leave the flat, nothing calling you besides money to leave the (lack of) comfort of your home. But of course, money always beats out desire, and so you hastily put on your shoes and proofed jacket, grab your safety umbrella and backpack, and leave. Things had to be paid for, and your credits were seriously running low, if you wanted to continue with your expensive hobby, it meant scrounging. You’re not dumb, you knew that daydreaming wasn’t a cheap, safe, respectable, or even remotely healthy hobby to have, but at this point it was escapism, freedom from pain, and so you’d do anything for that sweet peace.

Once you’re at street level, you put up your umbrella. At this point it’s better to be safe than sorry, the acid rain warning that you saw on your dash ringing out in your memory. It never used to be like this, acid rain was once unheard of, but in the last ten years pollution came to the point that even the water cycle couldn’t be trusted. That’s the joys of living in urban scum, you think to yourself. Your ears register the faint sounds of sizzling rain droplets on your umbrella and you're grateful for it now. Your pace quickens, and after a blur of around 20 minutes walk, you arrive at your workplace.

Workplace was definitely too light of a word to call the building that stands before you. The imposing structure juts out into the dark with brightly coloured lights on its each corner, signalling its presence, as if it was easy to miss without the lights. The commonplace sound of thumping bass echoes about the street for meters, and it only gets louder as you walk up the stairs and into the building. A sign reading ‘Sondaero LivingSpaces’ greets you, but you know full well the people here are barely living. Oh no, this type of place is home to some of the most prolific daydreamers; well, the most prolific for the underground scene. You step through a set of large doors and out into the main courtyard. It’s an indoor park, filled with neon bioluminescent plants, and jarringly placed speakers. If this was any other establishment, the sea of ravers surrounded by people daydreaming on cot beds would be jarring to you, but you’re so used to it that you couldn’t care less; or more so, you’re plainly desensitised to it.

You find your way out onto the dancefloor and surround yourself with people - the more people the better, it just makes your job easier. Safely hidden in the palm of your hand is a biometric chip you crafted yourself. Implants are a little drastic in your opinion, especially when cosmetic, but this was a necessary thing to you considering it earnt you money. The function of the chip worked like this: every person is assigned biometric numerical values by the government of their country, this is to make controlling their finances easier without having a physical device like a debit card or a mobile phone. Instead each user is assigned these numerical values based on their facial bone structure, and the chip's job was to scan this using minute sensors. All you had to do was simply wave your hand in the direct vicinity of their face, and await results - those results being the chip draining their bank account of credit and depositing it into yours. The waving part is complicated in normal use, but when at a club, where wild dancing is the norm, it makes hand movements so much less conspicuous. As you imagine the small amounts of money gradually making its way into your account a man approaches you to your side.

The guy has long-ish dark brown hair, with eyes of the same colour and a tall stature. He begins dancing near you, slowly moving closer and closer towards your vicinity. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to this man, he was objectively good looking, and the smirk he was wearing on his face was hard to ignore. Before you know it, he’s leaning in your ear and shout-whispering: “hey, do you wanna get a drink with me, angel?” The confidence in him to skip all normal greetings is astounding to you, but in some ways that makes him even more attractive to you, so you whisper-shout back “yeah!” and lead him over to the bar by the elbow.

After you have a few drinks in you, dancing becomes thoughtless, and swaying and grinding on the nameless man is even easier. “Yo, what’s your name?” You ask over the pulsing beat. His response is a finger trailing up your spine with the words ‘Johnny’ leaving his lips. Maybe those disquieting thoughts aren’t only silenced by daydreaming, maybe this could be another outlet. That thought curls in your mind, the wispy tendrils of a coherent thought fading like a misty night.

A few more drinks in your systems leads you to going home with the man, but your memories fade away as the night (or should you say early morning?) carries on. It passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you’re being startled awake by a cat sitting on your chest, with an unearthly headache.

Once you finally manage to extricate yourself from the cat’s grasps, you sit up and immediately notice the sleeping form of Johnny next to you on the tatami, his chest rising and falling with each breath. As quietly as you can, you tiptoe up off the tatami floor, acknowledge the ache throughout your entire body and move towards his kitchenette for a glass of water. Unbeknownst to you, Johnny apparently has a rudely noisy water purifying outlet attached to his faucet, and it decides to make itself known the moment you hover your palm over the on sensor. Johnny quickly stirs awake at the noise, and he sleepily opens his eyes in your direction.

“Wha-what’s going on?” He asks, squinting as his dark eyes adjust to the light. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to get some water.” You respond, tottering back over to the tatami, glass of water in hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t really remember much of last night, did we uh- what did we do?” You’re aware your question was haphazard, but the incessant hangover looming in your head has your thoughts less than clear.

“If you are wondering if we had sex, the answer is yes, but the only thing I remember is waking up covered in… unsavoury stuff...so that certainly was a way of knowing how. I also know that apparently at some part of the night we decided to dream ‘cause I had to tidy up the gear earlier, but to put any worries at bay, I’m clean and vaccinated so...yeah.” He finishes the end of his sentence, trailing off. Well, at least the mystery man is somewhat of a gentleman, and he’s not gonna give you anything nasty which is always a good thing. You realise his late night cleaning must’ve turned to yourself at some point considering you are somewhat dressed and clean, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’d come to this shameful point so what did a bit of aftercare matter.

“Oh ok, and thanks for letting me know. I’m clean and fully vaccinated too.” You respond, unsure how to act around him. Perhaps he feels your apprehension, and in answer he pats a spot on the tatami next to him, just away from his cat too. You make your way over to the spot, feet padding on the floor as you go. “Your cat’s cute, they decided to sit on my chest this morning. Despite knocking the breath out of me, they’re pretty charming.” Johnny’s eyes widen at this knowledge before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. It’s somewhat comforting to hear such a genuine laugh; it takes your mind off the world of insincerity around you.

“I apologise for Ten, he gets cuddly in the mornings.” Johnny picks up his cat to give you more space, Ten’s legs sprawling wide in the air before being put down to safety.

There’s something so warm and familiar about Johnny’s presence, it has you naturally leaning into him, and his arm comes to rest around your shoulders as your head gently leans on his chest. The feeling is just so warm and despite knowing you don’t know him well, it almost feels like you do. It feels like a lover long lost, and now he has returned a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest. It’s almost inexplicable, and if you were to try to justify it to anyone other than yourself, a wave of embarrassment would certainly wash over you.

Looking down at you, he meets your eyes, and they seem somewhat fond; not what you were expecting to see. “Do you fancy dreamin’?” He asks, still maintaining eye contact? “Hmm, sure, hopefully I’ll remember it this time.” You reply with a smile and he reciprocates.

Before you even open your eyes you’re met with the sensation of skin on skin. Beneath your fingertips you feel, what you suppose is a firm chest, and when you open your eyes your suspicions are confirmed. Your hands are resting on Johnny’s taut chest, and of course this is what an unscripted dream with the two of you looks like. You feel that you are naked too, and his hands rest gently around your waist, a relaxing gentle weight reassuring you he’s still there. You meet each other’s eyes and the tension is palpable in the air. He dips his head down and kisses you, lips melting together with ease. His hands move from their placing and trail down to cup the small of your back, your bodies meeting infinitely closer.

The two of you move together like jigsaw pieces slotting into place, there’s no conscious thoughts, only the two of you existing in this dream space. Part of you can feel Johnny’s thoughts swirling as you share the hazy unstructured scape. There’s hints of lust mixed with a sleepy mindset, probably left over from waking up moments ago in the real world. He’s set on being a lazy lover right now, selfishly devouring you with no haste in any of his actions, just taking these moments for himself. He can feel your thoughts just as much as you can feel his, he knows you’re feeling relaxed with him and he’s pleased at that, he knows how good you feel right now and he’s proud. He wants to use all of this time to make you feel good. You’re both in agreement that losing yourself in each other is ever so easy, and so you both fall into the other's grasps.

The second time you wake up, Ten is resting on your feet, warming them from the slight chill of the room. Johnny had roused quicker than you, and he’d already removed the IV from your arm. You spot him winding up the fluid bags and putting them into the insulated case they reside in. “How are you feeling?” He asks whilst disposing of the needles in the marked sharps box. “Good, lighter than usual. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, albeit mostly imaginary.”

The floaty feeling remains in the forefront of your consciousness. Despite feeling lighter, less burdened, you’re aware that you need to change your vices. Constantly daydreaming, forming relationships through them, isn’t healthy. Continuous escapism isn’t a way to live; numbing yourself over and over again won’t solve anything. With a new fervor to gain meaning in your life, you rise from your place on the tatami. “What are your plans for today, John?” You ask, perhaps vices and meaning aren’t that different from each other.

long time no see! this is my penultimate fic :(( hopefully u guys enjoyed it! I know it’s not like my usual style and is somewhat offbeat but I hope it makes sense hehe <3

#Johnny suh #Johnny seo #nct #nshitty frathouse #nct u #nct 127 #Johnny suh angst #Johnny suh fluff #johnny angst #johnny fluff #kpop fluff #kpop angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct johnny fluff #nct johnny angst #mine #drive in collab #drive in fic collab #kpop blurb #kpop drabble

[shini--chan]

OKAY IMAGINE THIS - by some mirracle, s/o get teleported back in time to the pirate era and suddenly just drops from the sky as Antonio and Arthur are battling! Everything comes to a halt because a friggin woman fell from literally nowhere - Arthur is quicker and he captures s/o first, DEMANDING to know where she is from, how did she get here. Poor s/o tries to tell him the truth but it just isn't working. How stupid do you think Arthur is, huh?! He's not buying what you're selling love! (1/?)

Oh blazes, my dear. You’re trying to seduce me into writing a novel for you, correct. Well, not today (sadly) so I’ll be going ahead with my usual mixture of headcanons and snippets. Also, to everybody out there: Requests are still being accepted – I just can’t bring myself to close my ask box.

Also, I wanted to write Arthur’s and Antonio’s lines in an older English, but then I remembered what it was like having to read books from the 19th century for school and decided not to inflict the torture upon you.

Yandere Love Triangle: England vs Spain (Historical Pirate AU!)

As mentioned in the ask, you would be minding your own business, more or less, when you would suddenly be granted two of the wishes many harbour in their hearts: to time travel and have an adventure. Unfortunately for you, that wouldn’t happen with a forewarning and you wouldn’t have any chance to blend in. I wouldn’t say the battle would completely stop – with all the smoke and gunpowder and bangs going on only those close by would have a chance noticing.

Antonio was having a wonderful day. Yes, extremely wonderful. Life on the ship had been very good as of late, supplies running high and spirits even higher. They were reaching their climax now, with Spain showing England the business ends of sword and cutlas and cannon. It was a fitting sort of revenge being able to rob the lilly-livered bastard after he had stolen so much Spanish silver and gold.

The runt in question was baring his teeth and snarling like a cornered dog while their blades were interlocked, when Antonio heard a loud crash from behind England. It was probably just part of the ruckus of a sea battle, yet something – his fantastic intuition most likely – advised him to take a look. Of course, making the other combatant to move just how he wanted proved to be tricky, because Arthur had always been an uncooperative like blight and liked to fight dirty.

Yet he wasn’t a famed duellist for nothing. The sight that caught his attention when he got the opportunity to see it nearly caused him to lose an arm due to inattention. Men of both sides had briefly abandoned the battle to crowd around a failing figure that was desperately trying to free itself from a tangle of nets and torn sails. The onlookers whispered amongst themselves. The chorus of voices only grew louder when a very confused woman.

He found himself remarking: “It seems like you’ve finally started to develop a good taste in bed mates. Say, when did that happen, fishy. I always thought that you’d have luck to get a starved old tramp to warm your bed.”

“Shut up, Anthony!”, came the immediate reply, proving that the island nation wasn’t aware about what he was playing at. “Let’s not get on about you. Or should I tell your precious monarch about what you do in the stables when all the servants are gone?”

Pathetic little weasel. Enraged, Antonio brought the hilt of his sword down on that pale, cruel face and busted a pair of thin lips. “You should guard yourself from spreading lies, English pigdog. Or else the Almighty himself will smite you.”

Naturally, being the cunning demon he was, England used the opening Spain had provided him to barrel into him and send him flying overboard and into the sea.

That action would be quick to turn the tides, especially with so many men coming to aid their captain and help him out of water. This would result in Arthur then discovering you on his ship, probably when his first mate would rush to him and explain that a very strange women in a strange get-up had just suddenly appeared on the ship.

England would go and investigate and discover you surrounded by his crew, each of them having different responses to your presence and hence causing quite a commotion. He too would find you utterly alien – in your attire, in your mannerisms, even in your speech. But Arthur would be ever the pragmatic and reason that there would have to be another explanation to your appearance, one that doesn’t include miracles. But because he wouldn’t have either the time or the head space to deal with you at the moment, he’d have to thrown in the brig with strict orders to leave you alone. That would also be a way for him to torture you and force you to wallow in your worries and terrors.

The brackish water of the brig had long since made your feet wet, cotton soaks completely soaked through and chilling you. The stench it all emitted, and Arthur’s relentless questioning only further enhanced your discomfort.

He was prowling in front of your cage-like cell, like a tiger in the zoo. Only that he didn’t want to break out, rather that he was being continuously tempted to drag you out of your cell and onto the deck to be flogged for your insolence.

“At every turn you say to me that you’re from the future and that you don’t know how you came here”, he rehearsed the main points of your conversation with him. There had been a snarl on his face the whole time throughout the interrogation, his anger only making his voice curl tightly around the vowels and roll the r’s harder until you had to strain to understand him.

Mutely you nodded – you yourself had come to the conclusion that he understood you better when you kept your words simply, underlay them with gestures and expressions and spoke slowly.

In return, England shook his head and spat: “I do not believe you. Going backwards in time is impossible, it only goes forward.”

In any other situation you would have been inclined to agree with him. But you were living proof that there were glaring exceptions to that rule. Having unexpectedly landed in a long-gone era, you had first found yourself desperately grappling with your new reality. You had pinched yourself and read the letters on crates and barrel and closed your eyes and read them again to see if anything had changed – everything to assure yourself that you were dreaming.

You weren’t, nor had you taken any psychedelics, so this was painfully, gruesomely real. A fact that Arthur wasn’t excepting even with evidence right past the tip of his nose.

“Then how do you explain the ripped sails then? How do you explain my strange clothes?”, you questioned him. Then, after a brief pause, you asked: “How do you explain that I know who and what you are?”

You knowing that he was a personification of a budding Empire was a sore spot for him and made him even more suspicious of you. Something that was now backfiring on you.

He waved your words off with evident irritation and countered: “There are more reasonable explanation for all of that. That you’re a spy from a foreign country for example.”

Arthur would never cease with side-eying you and constantly be on the look-out for more logical explanations for your otherness. He would find them as well. Yet there would always be a little voice in the forefront of his mind nagging him that you are telling the truth and that he was wasting the opportunity of the millennia by blowing your words in the wind.

Those doubts would be the main reason he would keep you alive, along with his quest to extract the “truth” from you. However, there would be times when he would be tempted to fetch those thumbscrews from his quarters to see if you’d crack under pressure. Yet he would still restrain himself.

That wouldn’t mean your stay on his ship would be pleasant. You’d constantly be wet and cold, with rats crawling around the brig and your meals being a near inedible gruel that would be set aside for you.

Therefore, it would be an absolute relief when Spain would swoop in to rescue you. It would be an even greater wonder when he would actually listen to you and take into consideration what you would say.

“Tell me if I’ve got this right: In the future, you don’t send letters anymore that take months to reach another country. Instead, you send messages from small machines which the other person can read only after a few seconds, no matter how far away they are”, Antonio summed up what you had just cautiously explained to him.

You had been so shy when he had taken you aboard his vessel, so afraid he would just maltreat you like Arthur had. It had taken its time for him to convey that he was different from that godless brute, that he was civilized and patient. He wouldn’t disregard miracles and let them slip through his fingers. It had taken its own sweet time to coax you into telling the truth, but now you were sitting across him in his quarters, nodding enthusiastically.

“More or less, yes. There is a lot more to that, but that is the start of it”, you affirmed his words. You were relieved that you finally had somebody to talk to in this time were you previously had nobody. The food being served helped you weigh yourself into safety – fresh fruit and other perishable treats, an absolute luxury onboard a ship with a sizable crew. Indeed, you were becoming so comfortable with your host, your lifeline at this point, that you were betraying things about your future that you otherwise wouldn’t have.

And wasn’t yet about detail concretely concerning him, but you would both get there eventually. Spain was sure of that.

Meanwhile you didn’t notice the hungry gleam in his eyes when he purred: “Fascinating, my dear. What else can these things do?”

Being a Catholic, Antonio would be far more inclined to believe you on the time-traveling thing. He would also add two and two together on your strange clothes and their material, not to mention your different attitudes and behaviours and realise that you would be telling the truth. He would treat you kindly as a way of getting you to talk to him, eventually becoming the only person you could trust.

He would guard you jealously and ensure that you would only speak to him – having knowledge of the future would be a right he would reserve for himself alone. It would also cause him to become obsessed with you, keeping you in his quarters or leading you onto the deck at night for short walk. Of course, he would paint the whole isolating thing as he keeping you safe, saying that Arthur was after you.

The argument with Arthur would have far more validity then Antonio would even imagine. The wisdom that you don’t know what you really have until you lose it would be especially true in his case. It would finally dawn upon him that you were telling the truth the whole time and that would lead Arthur to beat himself up over it. A pursuit to recapture you would ensue.

Not to mention that it would make his blood boil to think that Spain would be courting you, persuading you to tell him everything he could ever want to know about the future. Besides  being a threat to his future existence and ongoing success, England would like to have all that knowledge himself and for himself only. Knowledge is power, after all.

Arthur would also miss you for your wit and endurance, fantasizing and dreaming of you to the point of obsession and never quitting his chase for you.

#yandere spain #yandere england #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere hetalia #x reader

[naminethewriter]

Vacation

This is my entry for the @sandersidesbigbang! I had a lot of fun participating 🥰 Thanks to all the mods for organizing this! Also huge thanks to @just-a-pintrovert & @5-falsehoods-phonated for beta reading 💙 There is also some artwork also from @just-a-pintrovert here! They did a fantastic job and I highly recommend you check out her blog! And now, enjoy!

Here on Ao3

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Roman, Janus, Logan, Remus

Relationships: platonic Intrulogical, platonic Prinmoxiety, platonic Moceit

Rating: T

Words: 12,502

Summary:  Logan doesn't show up for breakfast one morning, leaving behind a letter declaring he's going on vacation. Unsure of its authenticity, Roman, Patton and Virgil go to look for him on Remus' side of the Imagination with a certain snake as their guide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started out like any other day. Patton entered the kitchen around 7 in the morning to prepare breakfast. Logan should join him soon, then Roman around an hour later and Virgil after that. When exactly was hard to say, the anxious side’s sleep schedule was the most inconsistent, but most of the time he was up last. Today Patton wanted to make an extra special breakfast since their discussion the day before had gotten a bit out of hand and nobody walked away from it happy. He just hoped all his kiddos would show up. 

Half an hour later that fear proves to be warranted. Logan still hasn’t come down. Patton had even checked the coffee machine to make sure he hadn’t missed him. But it was still as clean as he had left it yesterday. Nervously his eyes flicker from the stove to the clock and over to the stairs before he focuses on making breakfast again, but his eyes would stray every few seconds. 

Five minutes later he finally hears movement upstairs. Logan probably had been exhausted yesterday and stayed in bed a bit longer than usual. Someone was coming down the stairs now and Patton turns around with a big smile, expecting Logan but coming across Virgil instead. 

 

“Oh,” Patton says, his smile slipping. But he immediately catches the insecure look on Virgil’s face at his reaction. “Sorry, kiddo,” he laughs, trying his best to seem cheerful. “I thought you were Logan, but I’m happy to see you, too! It’s quite early for you though. Did you not sleep well?” Now that he takes a closer look, Patton can see the tiredness on Virgil’s face, who gives him a weak smile. 

 

“Morning, popstar. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured might as well get up, y’know?” He moves over to the coffee machine, looking at it confused for a few seconds before he seems to realize what else Patton had said. “Logan wasn’t here yet?” 

 

“I don’t think so,” Patton shakes his head, his eyes now fixed on the stove so that Virgil doesn’t see the concern across his face. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee, you know I’m no good at making some.” He tries to play it off as a joke with a laugh but even he knows it’s not convincing. Virgil hovers at the coffee machine, unsure of what to do, how to comfort Patton. Instead, he moves to make the coffee himself and trying to cheer the other up with words. 

 

“It’s fine, Pat. I can do it and I’m sure Lo’s gonna come down soon. We all had a lot to think about yesterday… Maybe he just needs some more time to think it through again this morning. But you know how he is, he’ll come down and act like it was nothing later. You’ll see.” At the end of his little ramble, the machine is in the process of brewing and Virgil gives Patton a short hug before moving to set the table. 

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Patton mumbles, more to himself than to Virgil and continues to work on breakfast. 

 

Around 20 minutes later, Roman arrives, a lot more energized than Virgil had been. “What a wondrous morrow! ‘Tis a day to sing and dance, I say!” Both Patton and Virgil chuckle at his boasting. 

 

“Good morning to you too, Roman,” Patton greets as he pulls him into a loose hug before going back to distribute their breakfast onto the plates Virgil had sat out. 

 

“I’m surprised to see you arrive before me, Doom-and-Gloom,” Roman says to Virgil while preparing his own mug of coffee. The other had taken seat on the counter after finishing his part of breakfast preparations and watched Patton work the rest of the time while slowly nursing his coffee (I say slowly but he is already working on his second mug). Virgil just shrugs. 

 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Roman hums in acknowledgment and then silence falls over the kitchen, only Patton scurrying around is heard. Not long however before Patton cheerfully announces: “Breakfast is ready!” 

 

“Wonderful!” Roman exclaims loudly. “What a marvelous feast you prepared for us, padre!” Patton giggles. 

 

“Thank you for the compliment, my prince.” 

 

“My, of course! What kind of ruler would I be if I couldn’t appreciate my subjects!” 

 

“A pretty standard one,” Virgil adds with a small smile. Roman huffs. 

 

“Only more proof that I am exceptional.” 

 

“That you are, Roman,” Patton laughs, but he sobers up suddenly, now looking worried again. 

 

“What’s wrong, padre? Tell me your worries and I shall strike them down with my sword!” Roman proclaims loudly in hopes of banning that expression from Patton’s face. The other gives him a small smile before looking over to the stairs. 

 

“Logan still hasn’t come down. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m worried,” he explains. Roman quickly looks towards the stairs as well, this is the first he’s heard of their nerd not arriving this morning. It wasn’t unusual for Logan to go back upstairs after having his first cup of coffee, opting to get a bit more work done before the rest of them get up. But not coming down at all was rare. A glance towards Virgil shows him that the anxious side is worrying his bottom lip, eyeshadow a bit darker than normal. Roman places both his hands on Patton’s shoulders in a reaffirming grip and smiles at him. 

 

“I’m sure our nerd just got lost in a book or something. I shall go fetch him at once.” 

 

“Thank you,” Patton says with a small smile that Roman returns before he heads back up the stairs. Logan’s room was the one furthest away from the common area. He’d always reasoned that he didn’t want any of the noise to travel to his door and Roman could see his point. Logan was the only one of them that stuck to a regulated sleep schedule and was often the first one to retire back upstairs. And sometimes Patton, Virgil and himself could forget to be quiet afterwards so choosing the longer distance was reasonable. Roman finally arrives at the door to the logical side’s room and was about to knock when something catches his eye. Rather it is hard to overlook. Taped to the door is a thin, dark blue folder that stands out against the light brown wood of the door. On the front ‘To Patton, Roman and Virgil’ is written. With furrowed brows, Roman pulls the folder off the door and opens it, scanning the first page before hurrying back downstairs. 

 

“Guys!” he calls out, halfway down the stairs, apparently interrupting a conversation between the left-behind sides. They don’t look bothered by it however but rather concerned at his sudden re-entrance without the side he was supposed to get. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Patton asks, voice rising in concern. Roman just hands them the folder. Virgil takes it since Patton seems to be shaking from the nerves and flips it open. The first page was a simple, printed letter that read: 

 

Good morning fellow sides. 

 

After the conclusion of yesterday’s discussion, I have decided to finally 

follow through with something I had planned for a while now: 

 

I am going on vacation. 

 

In the last few months, following Janus’ acceptance and further involvement 

in our daily lives, the tension in our group has been rising and I must say, 

it figuratively suffocates me. Any attempts to resolve said tension has been 

disapproved of and you continue to disregard my contributions to various 

problems. I cannot work in this environment any longer. I have finished  

Thomas’ schedule for the next two weeks. I did my best to consider your 

and Janus’ previously given advice to ensure that it covers selfcare and  

productivity. If you want to make changes, go ahead but do not complain 

to me if it does not work out as you hoped. I have done my part now. I am 

not sure when I will return but I should not be gone longer than those two 

weeks. Do not summon me unless it is a life-or-death situation. I have  

prepared a place to stay and I am being provided for. I will continue to keep  

an eye on Thomas regardless but I do not see any need to appear in person. 

 

I wish you a pleasant time, 

Logan Logic Sanders 

 

Silence hung over the three for a few moments. 

 

“You think he’s pranking us?” Patton finally askes. Roman hums in consideration but Virgil scoffs. 

 

“Since when is Logan a prankster?” He pulls out the other sheets of paper from the folder. “These are definitely from him; I doubt even Deceit could fake them so accurately.” Truly, the schedule was color-coded and formatted in a manner that was very familiar. Roman pulls the papers out of Virgil’s grasp. He quickly scans it and whistles appreciatively. 

 

“This really is his best one yet, I must say.” 

 

“Where do you think he went?” Patton askes, his gaze fixed on the stairs. “He wrote he’s being provided for but what does that even mean?” The other two could immediately tell how worried he was. They exchange a quick glance and Roman puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder. 

 

“Well, there aren’t many places he could be... Him staying here in the mindscape would defeat the purpose of going on vacation. He could have gone to the dark side but I doubt that, it felt like he’s avoiding Deceit as well and if he’s in the imagination, I should be able to tell but I can’t feel him there...”  

 

“Where did you find this anyway?” Virgil askes and holds up the folder. 

 

“It was taped to his door.” 

 

“So you didn’t actually check his room, right?” Roman brightens. 

 

“I did not! Great idea, Hot Topic. Let’s go!” He runs back upstairs. 

 

“How does he have so much energy in the morning?” Virgil groans but he follows after him, Patton in tow. When they arrive upstairs, Logan’s door is wide open and Roman could be heard humming inside. Virgil immediately pales. 

 

“Princey, what the fu-” He glances at Patton. “-frick are you doing?” he hisses, not crossing the threshold. Roman, who was currently going through the papers on Logan’s desk, shoots him a look. 

 

“Searching for clues, like you suggested.” 

 

“I never said that!” 

 

“You said to check his room!” 

 

“I meant knock to see if he’s in here, not waltz in and go through his stuff!” 

 

“Why are you whisper-hissing? Logan’s not here, I already checked his bathroom, closet and under the bed.” 

 

“Why would you-? Ugh, never mind,” Virgil groans and does cautiously enter the room, followed by Patton who looks around curiously. 

 

“I haven’t really been in here for ages!” he gasps. Virgil furrows his brows. 

 

“You go to his room all the time though?” 

 

“Yeah, sure, to check on him. He doesn’t really invite me in though and I don’t wanna pry...” He takes another look around, this time more apprehensively. “It feels kinda wrong to be in here. Without his permission, I mean.” 

 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Virgil exclaims, biting at a nail nervously. “C’mon, we verified he’s not here, let’s go.” 

 

“Verified? Boy, the nerd’s room’s already getting to you, huh?” Roman scoffs and lays back a few papers he doesn’t find interesting. “And we haven’t found any clues yet, leaving would be a waste.” 

 

“Roman, we are not here to snoop through Logan’s stuff. We just wanted to confirm that he is not here.” Patton scolds, both he and Virgil are already back by the door. Roman rolls his eyes. 

 

“Hold on, I’m almost done. How is it that I’m the one who’s been in here the longest but I’m the least affected by the room?” he mumbles a bit loudly to not be intentional while checking around the desk. 

 

“No, Sherlock Homeinvader, we’re leaving,” Virgil insists, presses the folder he was still holding on to in Patton’s hands and goes over to him to drag him back himself as Roman dramatically gasps. 

 

“What do we have here?” he asks even more dramatically and bends down, grabbing something out of what appears to be Logan’s trash can. Virgil nose wrinkles. 

 

“Disgusting, dude.” 

 

“Relax, it’s just a bunch of paper. Well, paper and this!” He holds up a container. A very familiar container. Pickled Poo Logs, Remus’ favored snack. Easily recognizable by his face at the top, though there are dicks doodled over the rest of the label. Virgil immediately snatches it out of his hand. 

 

“Remus was here?” Patton hesitantly comes over to take a look himself. “Maybe Logan was just curious about it? He gets like that sometimes, you know?” His nervous tone sabotages his attempt at lightening the mood, especially since he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. 

 

“With dicks drawn all over it? No, Nerdy Wolverine would have asked for a clean one,” Roman comments and turns the case over in his hands, inspecting it. 

 

“You think Remus kidnapped him?” Virgil asks, panicked. 

 

“Considering the folder, unlikely. Oh, there’s the room’s effect!” Roman hums, pleased. “No, it is unlikely that Logan left involuntarily but he may have been tricked. Remus is an idiot but he’s not totally stupid. And he kind of fixated on our braincell after his introductory video.”  

 

“What has Remus done now?” calls an exasperated voice from the door. All three of them spin around to see Janus leaning against the doorframe, inspecting his gloved fingers with a small smirk on his lips. Virgil growls at him immediately and Janus rolls his eyes in response. “Oh, yes, please do keep acting like a guard dog, Virgil, it is so becoming of you.” Before he could snap back, Patton lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He continues glaring but falls silent.

“Hello Janus, what brings you here?” Patton asks, trying to sound cheerful but even to Roman and Virgil it sounds forced. It doesn’t fool Janus for even a second.

“I went to the kitchen to make my morning cup of tea and no one else was there as usual so I decided to come up here for no reason at all.” His smirk stays however he seems to eye Patton very carefully who laughs nervously in response.

“Oh, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried, merely… curious. You lot seldomly break your morning routine, especially Logan, so seeing him in particular absent from this group despite us being all gathered here in his room, I do wonder what is going on. Care to enlighten me?”

“We don’t care to. This is none of your business, leave Deceit!” Virgil practically spits. Janus tuts and shakes his head.

“On the contrary, dear Virgil, if this does indeed involve Remus, it is entirely my business. He has been acknowledged by Thomas, not accepted. It is still a part of my duty to reign him in from time to time. To make sure he does not hurt Thomas’ mental health excessively.”

“Oh yeah, you did a great job of that before the wedding,” Roman scoffs. Janus glares at him.

“In that instance I let him looser than normal precisely to protect Thomas’ mental health in the long run. He was pushing himself too much, acknowledging Remus’ presence was supposed to help him clear his head a little,” he hisses and Virgil snorts.

“That worked out so well.”

“Sssssshhut up!”

“Kiddos! Please, let’s not fight, we have more pressing things to deal with right now!” Virgil and Roman grumble but don’t interject. Janus looks defensive, still glaring at the two of them. “Logan is missing,” Patton continues. “He left us this note but it’s so unlike him, we aren’t sure if we should trust it. While we checked his room, Roman found one of Remus’ deodorants, so we suspect he might be involved somehow.” Apparently deciding to abandon his staring match with Virgil, Janus walks over to Patton and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand the situation. Could I look at the note and the deodorant, please?”

“Oh, sure,” Patton says with a light blush and hands over the folder. Janus quietly thanks him before thumbing through the pages. The letter he looks at last.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed warn him about his habit to overwork himself a few times recently. If he is taking a break, then I am more inclined to let him do so.”

“We don’t want to stop him from taking a break!” Patton hastily clarifies. “We’re just worried about the how. We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. And if Remus is involved, I don’t know how much of a break he is really getting…” He trails off at the end, staring at his feet. Janus hums and quickly walks over to Roman to pluck the deodorant out of his hands.

“Hey!” The prince protests, but Janus doesn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he looks over the case in his hand. Once he was finished, he drops it back into Roman’s hands who squawks at him offendedly.

“From recent conversations, it did seem like Remus was getting rather attached to Logan and I don’t think they have a bad relationship. It might very well be that Logan asked the Duke for his help in this matter.”

“As if,” Virgil pouts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that himself. Janus ignores him.

“But if you feel like you need to check then I do have an idea where to look.” Patton beams at him.

“Really? Could you take us? Right now??”

“No way am I going anywhere with that snake!” Roman yells. “He might just be leading us into a trap!” Janus gives him an unimpressed look.

“And why would I do that? My job is to make sure Thomas’ mental health is in good shape. Getting all of you injured, or whatever you imagine I would want to do to you, would be nothing but counterproductive.”

“Like I believe that!”

“Regardless,” Janus says to brush off Roman’s protest who in turn only seems to get angrier, “I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. If the two are where I think they are, then you have no chance of getting there without a guide.”

“I can navigate Remus’ side of the Imagination just as well as my own, I do not need your help, Jack the Fibber!”

“I do not doubt that my prince. However, that place in particular is designed to keep unwanted visitors out. I doubt you would even find it, not to mention getting inside.”

“And what place would that be?” Virgil hisses before Roman can start yelling again.

“The library.”

“Remus… has a library?” Patton asks, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, he doesn’t. The fact that you do not know about it just proves my point. It is one of the most fortified buildings Remus has ever created. The layout constantly changes, there are traps and monsters roaming the halls.”

“If the layout changes, then why do you think you could take us there?” Patton interjects.

“Because there is one path that leads to the actual library within, and I mean only one path. Make one wrong turn or otherwise go off course and you will not find your way out easily. I got lost only once and I do not recommend it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Roman challenges, head raised high. Janus seems amused by his stubborn antagonism.

“I do not care if you believe me or not. You are the ones that want to check on Logan. I am only offering to take you since I had planned to go there soon anyway. And I need to see what Remus is doing from time to time. You can come along or not, it is totally. Up. To. You.” Janus emphasizes the last words by poking Roman lightly in the chest after each syllable, all the while smirking up at him. Roman continues to glare but he couldn’t quite repress the slight flush of his cheeks at Janus’ proximity. The snakelike side laughs lightly before making his way back to the door.

“I will leave after breakfast. You do what you think is right,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving the others in silence.

“He has got to be tricking us, right?” Virgil growls after a few seconds. Roman nods in agreement but Patton looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think so. He has no reason to.”

“He’s Deceit, Patton. It’s all he knows.”

“Look, I know you both had your differences with him and I’m still adjusting too, but Janus is an integral part of Thomas, we cannot deny that anymore. I am sure he does not want anything truly bad to happen to any of us, so if this is a trick then it is probably only a small prank.” Virgil and Roman share a look of disbelief but Patton doesn’t stop there. “And besides, what other options do we have? Sit around and hope that Logan is truly okay? Or comb through Remus’ side on our own? Your powers barely work over there Roman, and the place is not small, right?”

“Right,” Roman admits with a sigh after a few seconds of silence. “And I am worried about Nerdy Wolverine, if we don’t do anything about this, I will go stir crazy, so I guess I can try and trust that snake for a bit.”

“Thank you, Ro!” Patton pulls him into a hug, beaming. Roman chuckles and pats his back.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you, padre.” He turns to Virgil. “Are you going to come along?”  

“…Fine,” Virgil grumbles, still clearly unhappy about the situation. “But if it turns out that he’s up to something, I am totally going to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, Emo Nightmare.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The track through Remus’ side of the Imagination hadn’t been pleasant. The atmosphere was tense and Patton’s attempts to lighten the mood didn’t cheer anyone up. Roman and Virgil did their best to ignore Janus and the deceitful side himself accepted their stubbornness quietly. Only Patton really talked, though even he gave up after a while. Thankfully, they didn’t come across any of Remus’ monsters but the landscape they had to track through was nightmarish enough and won’t be discussed here. Now they stood before their apparent goal.

“This… is it?” Roman asks, doubtfully. The building in front of them is a rather cliché-looking mansion from horror games. It is a wide, stone structure with two floors that seems to have high ceilings. It’s dark and intimidating looking though on closer inspection, the construction style seems to change randomly. A different kind of stone here, another window frame there. Apparently, Remus stitched together different buildings and haphazardly added details wherever it pleased him. For example, the house of Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas is sticking out of the roof, completely intact but just… there.

What stands out most though, is the glass dome further back on the building. Not because it is the most impressive but because it’s the only thing that is illuminated, emitting a soft yellow glow. All the other windows are pitch black.

“Not satisfied, Roman?” Janus smirks.

“Well, yes. I expected more from my brother’s so-called masterpiece!”

“I definitely called it his masterpiece,” Janus says as he rolls his eyes. “And the interior is the more impressive part. The exterior Remus changes every so often when he gets new inspiration. I think the last remodeling came after Thomas researched that giant lady and the game she’s in.”

“You mean the one you stole your skirt look from?” Virgil smiles, mischievously.

“Yes, because my look wasn’t almost finished by the time Thomas found out about her!” Janus hisses at him with a glare. Virgil shows him his tongue.

“Kiddos, please stop. We’re here for Logan, let’s concentrate!” Patton tries to encourage teamwork but again is not really successful.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil scoffs and glares at Janus one last time before turning back to the building in front of them.

“Let’s just get this over with. Remus’ side always gives me chills,” Roman complains.

“Very well.” Janus adjusts his gloves before clearing his throat. “Once we enter, as I haven’t told you before, there is one path we need to follow, so I need you to listen to my instructions carefully and let me take the lead. I know it’s very hard for you to go along with other people’s plan but trust me on this one, Roman.” He grins over at the prince whose face is turning red in anger. Before he can explode, Patton steps in.

“No provocation from you either, Janus! If we have to rely on you as you say, then make an effort to be reliable in return!” He leans close to Janus and pouts, giving him his best I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-know-you-can-do-better look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop as well.” Janus waves him off. “The instructions can be stupidly specific sometimes, at one point we will have to stick to one side of a corridor, for example, but there will also be traps, distractions and monsters. Though – and make sure to remember that – nothing truly dangerous can access the path. So even if something comes charging at us, I need you to stay calm and not run around like headless chickens. I will not save you from your own stupid decisions.”

“Oh yes, so trustworthy. Thank you greatly for your generosity.” Roman rolls his eyes and Patton shots him a slight glare, making him huff but refrain from further comments. Janus ignores him completely.

“Our goal is the dome and usually it should take not over half an hour to arrive there.” Now Roman looks sceptic for a different reason.

“If we just need to get to the dome then can’t we just climb the building and get in from the roof?”

“Oh yes, what a great plan, I can’t believe I have never thought of that before!” Janus exclaims, hand on his heart but quickly drops the act. “The interior and exterior aren’t connected like that. Since Remus shifts the inside around as much, no window or door – other than the main entrance – connect to a specific room. It will just drop you randomly somewhere in the mansion. And as I’ve stated before, that is not something you want to happen. So no, we can’t do this like a heist movie.” Roman looks angry again but doesn’t comment. Patton pats him on the shoulder (which only seems to sour his mood more) before addressing Janus.

“Alright, we will follow your lead.” he says with a smile. Janus nods at him stiffly before moving towards the front door without another word, the others following behind him with tense expressions (though Patton tries, and fails, to hide his).

The door to the mansion is made of a heavy, red wood that Janus pushes open without hesitation. Behind it lies… a rather normal looking entrance hall. There is a long carpet that leads to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the decoration is tasteful. Or rather, it used to be. As impressive as the hall is, it is rotting away. There’s dust everywhere, as well as spiderwebs and the air is thick and unpleasant.

“This place has so much potential if my brother bothered to take care of it,” Roman huffs as he looks around. Janus doesn’t respond but instead gives more instructions.

“Follow behind me in a line. And please do walk next to each other, that wouldn’t be risky at all.” After saying that, he moves toward the back of the hall, left of the staircase where a door is situated. “Behind here is where the dangerous path starts. Be. Very. Careful,” Janus stresses, looking back at the others who had followed him.

“Will do!” Patton responds, with faux cheerfulness. Roman and Virgil sigh but they do line up. Their marching order is Janus, Patton, Virgil and Roman in the back. The first few hallways and rooms they pass aren’t all that bad. They have a few disgusting gimmicks – bleeding walls, gooey carpets, a mirror that insults you when you stand before it – but nothing too severe. The first truly shocking room (though it really should have been expected, in hindsight) they come across is…

“Is this the playroom from Fifty Shades of Grey?” Virgil asks after they all simply stared at the contents of the room for a few moments.  

“Thomas hasn’t even seen that movie!” Roman exclaims, very red in the face. He is also holding Patton’s glasses to protect his purity while Virgil holds his hand while he is effectively blind. Janus shrugs his shoulders.

“The scene has been referenced in enough videos and interviews that we have a basic understanding of what happened in it. And that might have been where Remus got the idea from, but he definitely modified it to be more to his taste. It is a room for BDSM though.”

“How… How do you know that?” Roman asks, still very much embarrassed.

“… Just be grateful that there are no people in here today,” is all Janus is willing to admit before heading towards the door that allows them to continue. The corridor behind it is dimly lit and a few lights even flicker. Janus leads them on confidently, the others follow him back in line and with Patton’s glasses returned to their owner. However, the creepy feeling of the hallway has Patton continue to cling onto Virgil’s hand, who is the side of the group most comfortable with horror. Roman has one hand on his sheathed sword – that he had strapped to his side before they entered Remus’ side of the imagination – and the other has a tight grip on Virgil’s hoodie. The anxious side isn’t very happy about how the two clinging to him limits his movement, but he can understand their worries, so he lets it slide.

“Did you hear that?” Patton squeaks out and for a moment Virgil doesn’t know what he means before a thump echoes down the hallway. They freeze, bringing Roman to a stop behind them.

“What’s wro- “

“Shhhhhh!” The rumbling becomes louder and now Janus notices that they had stopped following. He, unlike Roman can guess as to why so he just waits ahead in slight annoyance. He had warned them before entering, he won’t tell them again. By now Roman had caught on and he grips the sword tightly, ready to draw.

Ahead of them, a monster comes around the corner. It has the body of a gorilla and walks on all fours, but its head is that of a snake and a pair of wings grow from its back. That would have been enough to scare Patton, maybe even Roman, but the most noticeable and gruesome attribute of the monster were its injuries. Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of zombie, since there are large chunks of flesh missing from its gorilla body, other patches lacked fur and again others ooze a liquid that may have been blood if it wasn’t so obviously sticky.  

The snake head isn’t fairing much better. It misses some scales and there are a few black spots that might have been burn marks. One of the wings seems undamaged though its partner looks all the worse for it. There are hardly any feathers left and the bones that are now left exposed seem broken in a few places and hang limply in a way that looks very, very wrong.

The monster spots them easily, makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a mix of a hiss and a roar and charges at them. Roman curses quietly and quickly pushes Virgil and Patton behind him. Janus looks unbothered, he is leaning against the wall and waits for it to be over. The monster gains more and more speed (considering the length of the corridor, it doesn’t make sense how long the charge takes), sprinting at them, until – oh so suddenly – it collides with something and crashes to the ground. Roman, Virgil and Patton stare at it with open mouths.

“I told you: as long as we stick to the path, nothing can hurt us,” Janus explains nonchalantly before resuming his way down the corridor, towards the beast that twitches on the ground. The others stare at it a moment longer before they hurry after Janus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few corridors and rooms were not all that difficult. One hallway was filled with spike traps that they had to avoid, and they passed three different torture rooms, all with different equipment. Janus explained that Remus liked to separate them by era and country, so he had, for example, one room filled with torture instruments used in the witch hunts in Germany from 1550 to 1650. And while they weren’t nice to look at, the rooms were empty and so it was left to their own imaginations as to how the instruments might have been used.

The next impactful incident happens in a corridor with a ceiling that falls down and crushes everyone beneath it. To avoid it, Janus told them to stick as close to the right wall of the hallway as possible. Their pace is significantly slower this way but none of them wanted to be squished so they carefully set one foot in front of the other.

“We’re almost there,” Janus calls to the others. The passage isn’t all that long but with the literally looming threat, it sure feels like it.

“Pat, you’re not stepping right,” Virgil hisses and pulls him more to the side.

“Sorry!” the moral side squeaked. “I think my glasses are smudged a bit. It makes it hard to see.”

“Oh, sorry, padre. That might have been me when I held them for you,” Roman apologizes.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I do it myself all the time.”

“Well, better clean them before one of your feet get crushed. Everyone stop!” Virgil commands and though he seems annoyed, Janus complies. Patton gives them an apologetic smile before taking his glasses off to wipe them clean with his shirt as best as he can.

Unable to hold still, Roman shuffles a bit on the ground and that’s when he makes a mistake. One of his feet lands too far away and a click comes from the ceiling. With a whoosh and a bang, part of the ceiling comes down. Virgil startles so bad that he lunges forward a bit, upsetting Patton’s balance and sending him to the floor, taking Janus with him. Thankfully, they don’t trigger another trap, but Patton’s glasses fall to the ground and skitter down the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asks, frantically, moving to help Patton up.

“I’m fine, but my glasses…”

“Do not worry, I will get them back for you!” Roman proclaims before starting to climb over Virgil and Patton still on the floor to get to the front.

“Watch it, Prince Douche!”

“I am, Emo Bitch!”

“Language!”  

Roman manages to get past both of them and Janus before the latter grips his arm to stop him.

“Don’t!” he hisses. Roman eyes him skeptically.

“And why not, oh Great Deceiver?” he mocks.

“Because we need to make a right here! The glasses are off the path!” Understanding blooms on Roman’s face and he looks back towards the glasses, a few feet away from the crossing they need to take.

“I can’t just grab them real quick and come back?”

“No. Once you’re off the path you can’t just turn around. I doubt you’ll even be able to still see us then.”

“It’s okay,” Patton calls from the back. He and Virgil are back on their feet. “I have a spare pair in my room, if you guide me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Again, I’m so sorry, Padre.”

“Please stop apologizing, it’s really fine, promise!” Patton smiles but his eyes are obviously not focusing on Roman and it’s apparent just how little he can see like this.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Virgil mumbles and leads him forward and into the crossing where they are safe from more falling ceilings.

“It’s not fine,” Janus suddenly speaks up. All eyes turn to him (or where Patton thinks he is). “We’re almost at the library but Remus, as charming as he is, of course made the last stretch the most annoying. Most of the time it’s a ladder we will need to climb with traps all over them to try and get you to fall over and over and over again. I can warn you about the ones I spot but if Patton can’t see them himself, he won’t be able to avoid them properly. We need to get his glasses somehow…”

The three with working eyes pondered for a bit before Roman speaks up.

“I think Virgil might be able to reach if he lays on the ground…”

“Why me?!”

“You’re the tallest.”

“By a few inches at best!”

“Well, those few inches might just be what we need here,” Janus chimes in and Virgil glares at him.

“C’mon, Beetlejuice, you want to get out of here, right? And we can’t leave Patton behind.”

“Really, kiddos, it’s fine! I’ll manage… somehow.”

“Yes, keep saying that, it’s sooo helpful!”

“Don’t take it out on him!”

“Just stop it!” Roman yells over the chaos. “Virgil please. I’ll hold on to your foot, it’ll be fine!” Virgil eyes him for a moment before he sighs.

“Fine but you use that,” he taps against Roman’s sash, “to secure my foot. I don’t trust your milky hands.”

“Milky?!”

“Ugh, just do it!” Janus groans and is met with two glares for his effort but both Roman and Virgil get to work. With the red band firmly bound around Virgil’s shoe and Roman’s hand, the former carefully lies on the floor. Just as he is about to start robbing over to the glasses, a door down the hallway opens and a figure emerges. Virgil stares at it in disbelief.

“Why Pyramid Head?!” Indeed, the creature now slowly making its way toward them, knife dragging across the floor, was the iconic monster from Silent Hill 2. Janus is the first to regain his composure.

“At least he’s slow! Quickly grab the glasses before he gets over there!”

“Easy for you to say- “

“Stop arguing, please,” Patton begs from his position against the wall of the next corridor they would traverse. Virgil grumbles under his breath but makes his way forward. And so does Pyramid Head.

It’s like watching a (very slow) head-to-head race toward the finish line. Robbing forward on his stomach, Virgil is about as fast as Pyramid Head’s walking speed. Inch by inch, Virgil gets closer to the reach of the gigantic knife still dragging along the floor. The creature doesn’t even need to get to him, just close enough to swing its weapon.

Virgil’s ankle leaves the path as he gets close enough to try and reach the glasses. And if Pyramid Head used its blade right now, it might have a chance to hit but still it moves forward, into a position where it is more likely to strike true.

Virgil’s fingertips hit the frame. Just a little bit more. Half of his foot is still within the barrier. Roman has a firm grip on the sash. Virgil’s hand closes around the glasses and Pyramid Head raises his knife to swing down.

“Got them!”

“Janus! Help me pull him back!” Roman calls as he holds Virgil’s shoe with his tied-up hand and places the other on his ankle. Immediately, the other is beside him, grabs onto his arms and pulls. And not a second too late. The knife lands where Virgil’s head had been moments before, and Roman and Janus fall onto their asses while Virgil is trying to catch his breath and to not go into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“What happened?? Are you okay?” Patton calls over, worriedly.

Roman lets out a breathless, unbelieving laugh and collapses onto his back, the adrenaline rushing through him. Which turned out to be good because as soon as his head hits the ground, a click comes from the ceiling once again.

“Shit-!” Quickly Roman rolls to the side before his head is flattened by the trap. He must’ve moved within its range by an inch. Janus stares at him in disbelief.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m too fabulous to die.” The ridiculous response got Virgil to laugh and forget his panic for long enough to calm down.

“Guys?” Again, Patton tries to get their attention.

“We’re all fine, Pat. And I’ve got your glasses, hold on.” Virgil climbs to his feet, wipes the lenses on his hoodie to clean them as best he could before heading over to Patton and pushing them onto his nose. “How’s that?” Patton doesn’t answer, just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Um… Sure. No problem,” Virgil mumbles nervously. Patton gives him a smile before looking over to the other two that are in the process of standing up. On the other side of the barrier, Pyramid Head has lost interest and was now moving away again. The sides pay him no mind.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Roman comes over to Virgil and Patton with a grin, Janus on his heels.

“Speak for yourself, princey. I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“I’m having so much fun with this. Let’s go, sadly, we’re almost there.” Janus takes the lead once again and the others follow. They pass through one more room, a laboratory of sorts with lots of blood on most of the surfaces (thankfully, the floor is mostly clean), before they enter what seems to be an elevator shaft. And indeed, the only way forward is a ladder.

“How surprising,” Janus mutters under his breath before turning back toward the others. “As I’ve said before, this part is not really dangerous, but pretty annoying. There will be traps to try and get you to fall but even if you do, you will fall slowly. Remus implemented this more as a prank than anything else. I’ll tell you about what I spot but we may need several tries.”

“Okay, we’ll trust you to not let us down,” Patton says with a wink. Janus stares at him with a blank look.

“That was terrible.” Then he starts to climb, Patton after him, then Virgil and Roman is in the back again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They do indeed need more than five tries to get to the top. It was especially annoying that Patton fell for the same trap twice, requiring the rest to wait where they were until he climbed up again. Their arms are gonna be sore tomorrow for sure. But they had finally made it.

The ladder ended in another corridor but this one was clean and wonderfully decorated in greens and silver. Portraits line the walls, most of them of Remus himself, but there is one of Janus and one of both together. Most peculiar are two others however. One shows Remus grinning, arm out to the side, probably hugging someone but the other half of the painting is missing. The second is simply an empty frame.

“Self-centered much?” Roman scoffs.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t have at least a dozen different self-portraits in your castle, Prince of Narcissists,” Virgil retorts. Janus doesn’t pay any attention to the banter or the pictures for that matter. He strides ahead with purpose. Patton watches him in concern, but he feels like this isn’t a moment to pry.

At the end of the corridor is an enormous double door, also in green and silver. The handles, however, are made of gold.

“Does he have some sort of obsession with Slytherin or something?” Again, it’s Roman commenting. Janus hisses at him in disdain.

“For your information, he is a Gryffindor, same as you. And his second choice would be Ravenclaw. No, green and silver just happen to be his favorite colors.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “What made you so cranky?”

“Please, keep talking.” Janus rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.” He grabs the handle on one side and pushes, Patton quickly helps him with the other. Slowly the heavy material gives away and swings open. And suddenly their vision is filled with green.

In front of them is a jungle and as they take the first steps in, the humid air hits them. Birds can be heard singing somewhere but none of them are able to spot them. They stand in a clearing, although the tree line that surrounds them is only about ten feet from them. The trees themselves tower over them, their leaves lush and green, vines hanging between them. The ground is littered with bushes and plants and only one way seems to lead further inward, its stones wide and beautiful. As they look up into the sky, they can see the glass of the dome incasing them, the sun beaming down outside. Which was weird since when they had been in front of the building the weather had been quite dreary.

“Are we… really in the right place?” Patton asks, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the serenity of their surroundings by being too loud.

“Yes, we are. If you look closely, you can see a few shelves on the far side of the dome.” Janus points upward and the others follow his line of sight. Indeed, quite a ways away, they could see some brown structures following the curve of the dome.

“How are the books not falling?” Virgil questions, his eyes squinted to make out anything in the first place. Roman snorts.

“This is the imagination, Doubtful Central. Remus doesn’t want them to fall, so they don’t fall.” Virgil sticks out his tongue at the prince’s condescending tone. Patton lightly scolds them to stop fighting. Janus clears his throat.

“We need to track along the path for a bit until we reach a river. Behind it is the library.”

“And hopefully Logan,” Patton sighs. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is, padre. You know our nerd, he isn’t easy to beat,” Roman jokes, his hand squeezing Patton’s shoulder in support. Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!”

“You wish, princey.”

“Kiddos…” Patton almost sounds defeated and Janus pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“He used to be like that with Remus, too. It’ll be fine.” Patton nods and gives Janus a grateful smile. He, in turn, gives a nod in acknowledgment back and turns to back to the bickering two. “I hate to interrupt you but one more warning. Watch your feet in there. There are some books that have gone… wild.” The others stare at him a moment.

“He stole the Monster Book of Monsters, didn’t he?”

“… He created something similar at least.”

With a groan from Virgil, the group sets out and follows the path. Even though it is made of stone, there are still quite a few branches and vines to dodge. The jungle isn’t quiet either, various sounds resounding in the air. Rustling in the bushes, noises that might belong to a kind of monkey, the birds’ continuous songs. A collage of different sounds that is almost overwhelming.

Roman keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword in case one of the animals decide to come their way, his eyes scanning the trees continuously. Patton clutches one of Virgil’s hands in his own, both also checking their surroundings nervously. Meanwhile, Janus’ eyes are fixated on the ground.

After they had walked for a few minutes, the tension drops a bit. Most of the jungle’s inhabitants seem to go out of their way on their own without hostility. In that moment, a bush on the right side rustles suddenly, then one to the left and unbelievably quickly, two books shoot out of the greenery and try attacking the groups feet. Patton screams and jumps into Virgil’s arms whose eyeshadow turned a very deep black.  

“Just give them a good kick, that usually scares them off!” Janus calls over the ruckus Patton is making, mostly directed at Roman who had unsheathed his sword. He is trying to stab the books, but their binding is quite resistant, and he can’t really get a good hit in. As he hears the call however, he shoots a quick look over to Janus, who has taken a few steps away to protect himself, before swinging his leg with all his might, hitting one book directly into the spine and sending it flying into the canopy.

The second one snarls and turns its attention from Virgil, whose shoe it had been trying to chew through, to Roman, and (again quicker than you would expect from a thing with no legs) darts toward him, in a zig-zag pattern so it wouldn’t suffer the same fate as its companion.

“Shit,” Roman curses, earning a weak ‘Language!’ from Patton who was calming down now that the book wasn’t focused on him and Virgil anymore. Roman tries to land another hit but the book is too fast and lunges forward, most likely to bite him in the leg.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Virgil’s heel digs into the cover, throwing the book back down to the ground. It whimpers and quickly disappears back into the bushes. With heavy breaths does Virgil set his foot back down, Patton still in his arms. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Hot Topic! You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs while Patton climbs down, “fight-or-flight, remember?” Roman laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Right, right.” They smile at each other for a moment before Patton speaks up.

“Where’s Janus?” Surprised, the three quickly take a look around. The deceitful side was nowhere in sight.

“I knew that slimy snake could not be trusted!” Roman yells angrily. Virgil has a similarly dark look. Patton doesn’t look convinced.

“Maybe he just went ahead? It’s not like there are any other paths we can follow, so he could have just gone ahead to scout for more bad books?”

“You really are too trusting, padre,” Roman scoffs. “But you are right, there is only one path to follow, might as well take it. Turning around now would be pointless anyway.” He and Virgil start walking forward. Patton nervously gnaws at his lip, not liking how this is turning out at all.

They do find Janus not all that far up ahead. He is crouching down in front of a bush, apparently muttering to himself. The path had winded at bit and with the branches in the way they hadn’t been able to spot him earlier. Still, Roman continues to be mad and stomps over to him.

“So now is the point where you try to abandon us?? Just what is your game, snake?!” Janus looks over his shoulder, as calmly as ever.

“Abandoning you was definitely my intention,” he scoffs before turning back around, reaching for something, and standing back up after. When he then turns to face them fully, he is holding a long, yellow snake in his arms that is winding itself around his torso. “This is Jake, I used to keep him in my room, but he took a liking to the jungle, so I let him live here, most of the time at least.” Jake stops his climbing and watches them for a moment, his tongue flickering out.

“Aww!” Patton coos before stepping a bit closer. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, he doesn’t bite. Most of the time.” But the moral side has already stopped listening, instead stroking the snake’s head which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Roman, who had been a bit stunned at the sudden animal in Janus’ hands, regains his composure.

“So why did you disappear then?” he demands. Janus shrugs.

“I figured you could handle two books with no actual teeth and Jake called out to me, so I went ahead to find him. There is only one path after all, I doubted you could manage to get lost.” Roman is practically fuming but Patton interjects before he can blow up.

“You can speak with him??”

“Yes. You really think Thomas modeled me after a snake and didn’t give me the ability to speak Parseltongue?”

“Cool!” Patton whispers, staring at Janus with wide eyes, who looks a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He clears his throat.

“Anyway. Jake tells me that Remus is indeed here. And he’s not alone.” Immediately, Virgil’s gaze snaps to him.

“Logan?”

“Most likely. Jake has never met him before, but the description fits.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.” Janus shrugs.

“He’s just a snake. He doesn’t lie to me, but he could be wrong.”

“We should hurry,” Patton says with determination, pulling his hand back. Jake hisses in displeasure from losing the scritches he was receiving. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Come back with me today and I’ll scratch you wherever you like.” That seems to please the snake since he gives another, smaller hiss and continues his winding around Janus until he finds a comfortable position.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They continue along the path for another few minutes without incident. Some bushes rustled but no more books tried to attack them. Finally, they could hear the sound of rushing water. The river must be near. Unconsciously, they increase their pace until they end up before a cliff, the path just suddenly ending there. The cliff isn’t all that high, only a few feet away from the rushing stream. Some type of fish jumping out of its waters every now and again. The jungle continued to the left and right of them, no bridge in sight.

“Um… How do we get across?” Patton asks, eyeing the drop. Janus takes a second to answer, not focused on the below but the beyond.

“We don’t,” he finally answers.

“What’s that supposed to mean??” Virgil demands, yet again glaring at him. Janus shrugs while he pats Jake’s head, eyes still focused ahead of them.

“This place is one of Remus’ most treasured places and there are times when even he wants to be left alone. If he doesn’t want anyone to come here, he simply removes the bridge. There is nothing we can do.”

“So we made this entire trip for nothing?!”

“I wouldn’t say that. Look.” Janus points ahead. The others reluctantly follow his gaze. None of them have really focused on the other side yet, too preoccupied with trying to go further.

A few more trees stand along the cliff but way less dense than on their side. The path continues for a few more feet before it ends at the steps of a lightly raised wooden platform, the true start of the library. Behind a reading area, rows and rows of bookcases tower, each row bigger than the one before it until the ones merging with the wall that reach way, way higher, following the curve of the dome and still somehow letting the natural light from outside shine through.

What Janus was referring to, however, is the aforementioned seating area. Among the few tables and chairs, are some sofas, beanbags, stools, and various other seating opportunities, all in different styles and colors. Because of course Remus would never settle on one theme alone. Only one of those seats was currently occupied though.

Lying on a chaise longue, turned towards them, with a book in his hand and a steaming cup on a small table beside him, is Logan. Seemingly without a worry, their nerd is relaxed and reading. Without looking away from the pages, he reaches over, takes the cup and sips whatever drink it contains before placing it back down without a second though. It seems like their worrying had been unnecessary.

“He looks fine, right?” Virgil says, though he sounds rather nervous, and he raises his thumb to bite at the nail. Patton instinctively stops him.

“That’s good, right?” he adds, also not sounding quite convinced. Janus watches their reactions without commenting. He hadn’t been worried about the logical side, he just wanted to avoid the others working themselves up over the next few days with their wild theories.

“It is too early to say yet!” Roman proclaims. “That could just be an illusion to fool us. To let our guard down! I will not leave until I spoke with him in person.”

“Nobody said anything about leaving though?” Virgil mutters. Roman ignores him.

“But we can’t reach him,” Patton objects. “How do you wanna do that?”

“Hmm…” Roman hums and takes another look at the raging water below them. “It’s not that far across. If I jump far enough, I’m sure I could make it. And I’m an excellent climber and swimmer!”

“I would advise against that,” Janus speaks up, Roman immediately eyeing him suspiciously.

“And why is that? Huh?”

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed you would be able to recognize piranhas when you see them.” Quickly, Roman’s eyes flickered back to the river and the fish still jumping out of it occasionally. “I’m also pretty sure Remus put some sharks in there just because he could. And I mean the bloodthirsty kind.” Patton’s face is now white as chalk and Virgil had a firm grip on Roman’s sleeve.

“Fine, fine!” the prince exclaims. “No swimming, I get it!” He gestures widely and Virgil lets go of him, turning away, his ears pink in embarrassment. “Then I guess we have no other choice!”

“And what choice would that be?” Janus asks, eyebrow raised. Roman grins at him before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling at the top of his lungs:

“LOGAN! OVER HERE! HEY! ACROSS THE RIVER!” The other three slap their hands over their ears, glaring at the prince. Roman doesn’t quiet down however, until Logan obviously takes note of them. Then he switches to waving widely. Janus rubs his temples; he has had about enough for today. Patton joins in on the waving though less enthusiastically. Virgil buries his hands in his pockets and shrinks back.

Logan does not look happy to see them. Not that they could make out much from the distance in terms of facial expressions, but he had gone stiff once he realized what was happening. He bookmarks his page before setting the book down and stands up. He turns away for a moment and Janus thinks he can hear him calling out to Remus, but the rushing of the water makes it hard to be sure. Afterwards, Logan makes his way over to them, down the steps and toward the edge of the cliff where he stops. Now they could make out the frown on his face more clearly.

“What are you doing here?” he calls over, sounding displeased. Roman hesitates to answer because of his tone, so Patton speaks up instead.

“We were worried about you, kiddo! You just up and vanished and we didn’t know where to!”

“I am aware, that was intentional. Did you not find the folder?”

“We did, but we weren’t really sure if we could trust it,” Virgil explains. Having to yell over the sound of rushing water quickly became annoying.

“What do you mean, you weren’t sure if you could trust it?” Logan frown deepens but before one of them could answer, Remus appears behind him suddenly.

“Boo!” he yells, grinning all the while. Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t react further. Roman stiffens, Patton bites his lips and Virgil buries deeper into his hoodie in displeasure. Janus is standing to the side, petting Jake, and acting like this situation doesn’t involve him.

Remus cackles at their reactions before saying something to Logan and summoning what appears to be a soundboard. He lowers a few regulators and immediately their surroundings quiet down. The river now sounds distant, like the cliff just became a few miles deeper than before, the rustling of the leaves falls quiet, as do the birds. The surreal situation stuns all of them for a moment.

“There! That’s better, right?”

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan says before turning back to the others, not having to yell anymore. “Now please continue your explanation of why you did not heed my instructions?”

“Well, um…” Patton tries to find the right words, but before he can, Janus speaks up.

“Remus, please unmute your brother.” Everyone turns to look at Roman whose face is red and seemingly trying to yell but no sound comes out. Quickly all eyes turn back to Remus who is pouting.

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t want them to continue assuming that you kidnapped our dear Logan over there, than you might want to consider not annoying them, yes,” Janus shrugs, apparently not really caring whether Roman gets his voice back or not. Logan raises an eyebrow and shifts his focus back toward his fellow light sides.

“You assume I was kidnapped?”

“It all happened so suddenly; we didn’t know what to think!” Patton tries to explain, eyes jumping between Logan, Roman and Remus. “Please give him his voice back,” he begs after a moment of Logan glaring at them, obviously not happy with the answer.

“But-!” Remus starts to whine before Logan puts a hand on his arm and in a low tone says: “It will only make this take even longer. Please just do it so we can get this over with?”

“Ugh, fine!” Remus groans before flicking one regulator back up but not to full volume.

“You stinking rat, I’ll run you through with my sword!” Roman yells, or at least tries to, only managing to raise his voice a little louder than his normal speaking tone. He glares at his brother when he realizes this, who flips him off in return.

“Stop fighting, kiddos, please.”

“He started it!” Roman protests but Patton just shrugs.

“And we came here without permission. Plus, we’re here to talk to Logan, not to antagonize Remus.” The prince clicks his tongue but doesn’t say any more. Remus laughs.

“Yes, listen to your Daddy, Ro-bro! Or you might get spanked later!” Logan squeezes his arm that he was still holding on to and frowns at him.

“You stop starting fights as well, Rem. I just want them to leave.”

“You know how to shut me up,” Remus grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Logan simply gives him an unimpressed stare. After a few seconds, he drops the grin and sighs. “Fine, fine. You deal with them, and I’ll go play with Bruce.” He summons his tentacles before diving into the river below. Patton gasps.

“Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine. It’s his realm so nothing he creates here will do him harm unless he wants it to,” Roman reassures, almost too quiet. Regulating his volume is going to be hard for a bit and he already looks annoyed by it. Patton nods at his reassurance before turning back to Logan.

“Where were we, kiddo?” The logical side, who had also followed Remus’ decent with his eyes, looks back up and returns to frowning.

“You were attempting to explain why you assumed I was kidnapped despite me leaving clear instructions to prove the contrary.”

“It was just very unlike you, Lo,” Virgil chimes in, still deeply buried into his hoodie. “You didn’t say anything beforehand, and we thought Deceit or the Duke might have forged the folder.”

“Exactly! And then we found my brother’s atrocious deodorant case in your trash and…” Roman trails off as he realizes what he just said.

“You… went through my trash?” Logan is now undoubtedly seething, glaring at them with cold eyes.

“Well, you see…” Roman tries to explain with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. Patton looks just as likely to come up with an excuse, so Virgil speaks up again.

“I asked Princey over there to check if you were in your room or not. He took that as an invitation to go snooping.”

“Very helpful, Doom and Gloom!”

“Well, it was your fault!”

“And you didn’t have to tell him that!”

“So,” Logan interrupts, voice calm but so icy that the others shiver, “let me make sure I understood this right. You found my notes and instead of trusting me and my ability to decide for myself, your first thought was that I was some damsel in distress that needed rescuing? And in your attempt to be the heroes once again you invaded my privacy as well?!” He continually got louder and louder, clearly very much angry.

“Logan, calm down, we just-“ Patton tries to interject but Logan continues, probably not even noticing that the other had spoken.

“You trust me so little, that you cannot even consider that I make decisions for my own well-being without consulting you? After pushing me aside again and again, you concluded that I cannot take care of myself? I have listed reasons for my decision in the letter I left you. Did you even consider those? Or did you assume that I would continue to let you figuratively walk all over me?” Logan takes a few deep breaths, the others stunned into silence. Once he feels like he is back in control of himself, the logical side continues, in his normal speaking voice.

“To me it is obvious that our current co-existence is neither beneficial to Thomas nor ourselves. We continue to figuratively turn in circles and no issues are truly being resolved. We all are stressed out, which makes finding a compromise even more unlikely. I had discussions on this topic with both Janus and Remus, as well as smaller conversations with all of you, if you cared to remember. And the conclusion I reached in the end was that we needed to take a step back and reevaluate. So, in order to do that, I asked Remus to help me arrange a place to stay for a few days to give us all time to reflect. He ended up inviting me here, to his library and I decided to extend my original idea into a vacation. I assure you, this all happened through my own volition.” With his arms crossed, he stares at the others, apparently awaiting an answer. Patton was the first to find his voice.

“We’re so sorry, kiddo. To us it was just a very sudden turn of events and we panicked. We should have trusted you more.”

“I trust him!” Roman huffs. “It’s Deceit and my brother that I don’t trust!” He points a finger accusingly towards Janus, who had continued to silently watch from the side and now raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Roman addresses Logan directly. “You said you talked with them about your plan but how do you know that it wasn’t part of theirs all along?!”

“Their plan to do what exactly?”

“To drive us apart, obviously! Ever since that snake showed up, we keep fighting! It must be his fault; he wants us to not trust each other so that he can influence Thomas!” Roman’s rant was undermined by his inability to truly raise his voice and none of the others seem convinced. Not even Virgil. Logan sighs.

“I understand that Janus’ past action have hurt you, Roman, but you need to accept that he is not the villain you make him out to be. He is doing his best to protect Thomas, as we all do. And he is not always in the right, none of us are. As much as I hate admitting it, my plans and wishes for Thomas are not always the answer either, which is why I try to incorporate your suggestions into my planning. But since you all seem to refuse to acknowledge my contributions in the same way, Thomas ends up neglecting his responsibilities. I would not let Janus make all the decisions, but he deserves to voice his opinions as much as the rest of us.”

“But he lured you away!”

“As I’ve already said, the decision was mine alone. Janus was the one who brought the idea of a vacation up to me first, that is true, but I was the one to decide to ask Remus for help and not discuss it with you beforehand.”

“And why didn’t you?” Virgil chimes in. Logan glances at him before turning his eyes toward the sky.

“I was trying to avoid this exact conversation. I am tired of justifying myself to you all. I needed a break, somewhere you cannot easily get to. As I’m sure you have noticed on your way here, this library is exactly what I was looking for. I am frustrated, maybe even angry with you. I raised my voice against you earlier, which I did not want to do but I just cannot hold back anymore. I need this distance from you for a while. I need to sort out my” – he stops and bites his lips for a moment before continuing – “feelings and I do not have the room or time to do so properly while in the mindscape with you all. I had hoped that I would be able to explain this to you when I came back but you couldn’t wait, apparently.”

“And you expect us to trust them in the meantime?” Roman growls, again pointing towards Janus and then down towards the river where Remus disappeared to. Logan glares at him.

“No, Roman. I expect you to trust me for once. I can take care of myself, I can defend myself against your brother and I can do so better than you, as we all have seen before.” Roman goes red in the face and tries to retort, but Patton holds him back.

“Enough. Logan’s right, we’re in the wrong here.”

“But padre-!”

“No buts, mister.” A giggle is heard from down below. “We jumped to conclusions and came here without permission. Logan is allowed to make his own choices and while I’m not happy about it either, we should trust him.” He pats Roman on the shoulder before turning back to Logan. “Then I hope you have fun, and we’ll see you soon, okay?” He said it with a smile, but Logan frown deepens.

“Stop patronizing me, Patton. I am the same age as you and it’s demeaning. I do not need your permission to stay here.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I- “ Patton stutters, embarrassed and not able to meet Logan’s eyes. Virgil sighs.

“Let’s just get out of here. We all have a lot to think about, apparently.” Roman clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. Patton nods and stares at the ground. “Hope you have a nice break, Lo. See ya.”

“That is the plan. Please leave now,” is all Logan says before turning away and going back to his book. Janus claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the others.

“Follow me, there is a shortcut out of here.”

“Let me guess, it only works one way?” Roman huffs, his voice still quieter than he’d like. The effect would likely only disappear once he’s out of Remus’ territory.

“Very clever, my prince,” Janus says and claps his hands again, this time in mock applause. “100 points for Gryffindor.” Roman glares at him but even he has lost the will to continue their arguments.

The group makes their way back in silence, through the jungle, down a hidden elevator off to the right of the gallery, out a side door of the building and back towards the mindscape. Patton is the only one who glances back towards Logan before he is obscured by the foliage of the jungle, but the logical side is already back on the chaise longue, drinking his still hot beverage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Due to the sounds still being muted, Logan could clearly hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator, signaling the departure of the others. With a sigh he puts the book down that he had only pretended to read. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly. What an ordeal this has been. After setting his glasses back in place, he takes another sip of his tea – which never cools thanks to Remus’ powers. Speaking off, wet slapping sounds reverberate through the air as the Duke makes his way over to Logan, dripping wet from his impromptu bathing session.

“So, how is Bruce?”

“Fine! He tried to bite my leg off, but he only got a few scraps of flesh!”

“Are you going to heal it or do you want me to bandage it?” Remus grins and with a snap he removes his damaged pants, at least from mid-thigh down. He knows Logan’s comfort zones and nudity wasn’t one of them. At least not yet. The logical side sighs as he summons a first aid kit. “Why am I not surprised?”

“’Cause you know I like it when you bondage me!”

“You mean ‘bandage me’, correct?”

“I know what I said.” Logan rolls his eyes and starts examining and dressing Remus’ wounds which, while bleeding, were all pretty superficial. For a few moments, he worked in silence, but as usual with Remus around, that didn’t last long.

“Felt good, right?”

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“Pff, don’t bullshit me, Lolo. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Fine, but I do not wish to comment on whether I found it satisfactory or not.”

“You can be such a prude.”

“That may very well be, but I do not see how that relates to our topic.”

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

“I am… unsure.” Logan finishes dressing the last wound, cleans the kit up before vanishing it away. Then he sits next to Remus with a sigh. “I do feel a bit better, having said what needed to be said but I also feel like I was too harsh with them.” Remus hums a moment before answering.

“Nah, I think they needed to hear it, ‘specially Daddy-o. He’s been treating not only you but Virgin as well like kids and he needs to stop or you’ll never get anywhere. Breaking out of your mold is exactly what you need, and they need to accept that.” Logan nods along but doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I am aware, but it still feels” – he grimaces at the word – “weird. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And that’s fine, Specs! You only just accepted that you have feelings, it’s gonna take a bit to figure them out. And dear Tomathy is in a weird place at the moment anyway, so it’s double confusing.”

“I am exhausted.”

“No wonder. Wanna take a nap?”

“Are you going to dry off first?”

“Ugh, fine. But only for you, Nerdy Wolverine!”

#namiswriting #my writing #thomas sanders sides big bang 2021 #platonic intrulogical #platonic prinmoxiety #platonic moceit #patton sanders #tss patton #virgil sanders #tss virgil #roman sanders #tss roman #janus sanders #tss janus #logan sanders #tss logan #remus sanders #tss remus #canon verse #adventrue #bickering #remus' side of the imagination #monsters #pyramid head cameo #reblogs are appreciated

[buglife]

In Which it is SIBLING DAY

More for Days of our (Bug) Lives!

Have you all a Hornet chapter, as she spends a day with her best siblings, Ghost and Hollow :3

---

Hornet awoke to the smell of sweets and the sound of kitchen supplies banging together.

For a moment, she was confused. She could feel that she was on something soft, something she deemed unnecessary in an effort to stay awake – so she would not succumb to the blinding light. She did not need blankets or silks for the rare times she found a crevice to rest and patch her wounds in. It was strange.

She blinked her many eyes as they adjusted to the dim lighting of the den. She was momentarily shocked to find herself here until memories caught up to her. Yes...her mother was awake and alive. She was home. The Radiance is dead. Things were stable now and no longer did she have to worry about one of the reanimated infected husks stumbling upon her in her sleep.

She wasn’t quite sure that she would ever quite get used to the feeling of safety again. The life of a princess wasn’t one any other bug would consider ‘safe’...but compared to when she guarded the kingdom? After all, most of her life was lived during the infection. She spent a better portion of her life fighting for survival...and now here she was. Safe. She had to admit that It was vastly less stressful in general.

She yawned, stretching out her limbs before climbing down from her silken hammock. She used a spare hand to rub her eyes in an effort to make them feel less tired and dry, taking the time to let her brain catch up to the rest of her body. She squinted at her calendar where she wrote down her many appointments, frowning at how full it was. Except for today, which only had two words scribbled upon the silk. ‘Sibling Day’, it read, written in stark red ink and underlined thrice to make it stand out from her many duties.

Sibling day! Of course! Her mood quickly improved from grumpy to slightly less so, it was one of the few days she could have now where she was not expected to worry about duties or talk to yet another overinflated self important bug. She imagined her sibling, Ghost, felt the same way. No duties, it would be like how it was before when it was just them in a little house in Dirthmouth, freshly freed from the infection and learning how to heal together. She missed the closeness...but sadly they all had responsibilities to clean up the mess their shared father left behind.

She grabbed her plain cloak for today, forgoing all symbols of her station, and strapping her needle to her side. Today she was just Hornet, sister to two strange but loving creatures of void, whom she still felt a protective streak too.

If she was correct, the smell and noise in the kitchen was her mother making her famous honey cookies. She maneuvered around the bridges of silk, politely waving to passing weavers as she climbed her way up to her mother’s chambers. She often found Hallownest structure to be oddly cold and ridged. She felt more at home in the sprawling tunnels of white as she leapt from string to string, before she finally arrived at some of the few structures made of stone in the village. It was her mother’s den, which had a kitchen, and the last thing they needed was a fire in the weave-ways. She arrived just in time to spot her mother, oven mitts on her many hands, pulling trays of cookies from the oven.

“Hello, my little sling,” Herrah greeted her as she placed the trays down on stone slabs to cool faster. Like Hornet, Herrah didn’t need a lot of finery to reflect her station. Instead, she seemed to exude an aura of power which made most bugs listen when she talked. “It seems that you are just in time.”

“It seems that I have, mother.” Hornet drew close to inspect the cookies. “They smell amazing.”

“I’m sure Hollow and Ghost will love them like they always do.” Herrah sounded pleased with herself. She tested the cookies and plucked up the ones that have cooled to stack into a box. “Don’t let Hollow eat too much and get sick again.”

“I won’t.”, She promised. “Will you be okay today by yourself?”

“Yes dear, I’ll have Midwife with me. You just enjoy your day with your siblings. And do tell them to visit more often! I especially love Ghost’s little husband, he sure has a lot of grit when he needs to.” Herrah laughed and a few lingering weavers laughed with her.

“Well mother, your cookies are worth the price of combat to acquire.” Hornet could tell her mother wasn’t being malicious, she was just being chaotic just like Monomon and Lurien. Why her sire decided to have all three of them in one place she would never quite understand. It’s also why she thanked the gods that their visits were rare these days and meetups they DO schedule, she can be sure it’s in a fire, explosion, and acid proof location.

“I should hope so, I did get this recipe right from Vespa after all.” Herrah smiled fondly as she finished boxing the cookies. A few silken strands was all it took to tie up the box securely before she handed it off to her daughter. “There you go, run along and have fun, okay?”

“I will Mother, thank you.” Hornet gave her mother a quick embrace before rushing out of the den. With her precious cargo tucked under one of her arms, she made her way to the tram station. Just for today, she’ll put up with having to be stuck in a small space with other bugs. Hopefully the cookies will still be warm by the time she arrived at the palace.

-----

“Do you have everything you need?” Ghost looked over the newly replaced kitchen counter, eyeing the piles of ingredients and spices that took up much of the space. They had gotten a list from their sibling, and the local farms were more than happy to provide. They honestly didn’t know what Hollow was going to do with all that zucchini. They received three baskets of the vegetable when they only asked for a single bag! They ended up having to borrow a cart to bring all the produce back to the palace.

Hollow nodded, eye curled in amusement. “Yes, I do. You though, are not to touch anything in this kitchen. I wish to keep these unburnt, thank you.” They relished in every opportunity to tease their sibling just to see how flustered they got.

“You are going to hold that fire over my head forever, aren’t you? It was only the second time it happened!” Ghost threw up their hands dramatically. Burn down a kitchen twice and suddenly you aren’t allowed to cook in it anymore. They already got the polite, but firm lecture from the palace staff to just let their husband cook. If their Majesty did wish to learn to properly cook, they urged them to avoid using live fires for now.

“Cry me a river, Ghost.” Hollow stuck out their tongue at said sibling.

“I can’t BELIEVE my beloved twin is committing treason against me!?! How dare?!?” Ghost pretended to swoon, earning them a boop to the snoot with a wooden spoon. “Oooooo you dare strike your King? Horrible!” They grabbed a spatula, fully intending to strike back.

“Dear, what are you doing?” Quirrel peeked in from behind the door way, watching the two vessels bicker and gently assault each other with kitchen appliances.

“Just getting ready for Hornet.” Ghost forgot all about the booping to slide up to their favorite pillbug, giving him a smooch. “Hollow is just being a brat.”

Hollow flipped them off with a shining, pale ore finger, a gesture which Ghost returned.

“Well, you both have fun. I will be taking over your duties today, so don’t expect me back until later.” Quirrel snorted “Have fun with Hornet, and tell her I said hi and to please not attack me in the middle of court again. I appreciate and understand that she wants to keep me ‘in practice’ in case of another assassination attempt, but it does end up causing a mess.”

Ghost remembered with a shudder. They ended up having to replace all the floors in the audience room and remodel most of the walls the last time Hornet ‘tested’ their husband. It was a very expensive ‘practice’ session.

“I’ll let her know.” Ghost nuzzled their husband again, hoping that Hornet wasn’t already down in the audience room waiting for him. “Have a good day!”

“I’ll try!” He waved and left the suite, down to do the infuriating task of listening to bugs whine all day. They’ll have to save a few cookies for him, he’d appreciate those for sure.

They turned to look back at Hollow, who was arranging things around to their liking. They hummed, pulling out pans, examining them, and placing them here and there in preparation of being filled. They had also taken time to wash all the produce, moving them around until they were nice and straight. They had always had an attention to detail, something their father sadly forced on them when they were but a hatchling. Still, it helped them In matters such as cooking.

Everyone loved Hollow’s cooking. As soon as Hollow could stand on their own again, they were learning to cook. Even with one arm, they could make the tastiest things using the dried or canned goods hidden deep in the abandoned houses. Hornet and Quirrel were quite good too, and under their tutelage it was easy to see that Hollow surpassed them both. Once Sheo and Smith made their new arm, Hollow was unstoppable in the culinary department.

If life were different, Ghost could see Hollow being a chef, but they knew their sibling loved the nail and animals more. Still, it was quite a treat when Hollow decided to cook.

“Do you need help, Hollow?” Ghost felt a little useless at the moment, just standing around and watching. They weren’t willing to catch something on fire and getting yelled at this early in the day.

Hollow shook their head. “No, go ahead and wait for Hornet so she doesn’t try to stab Tiso again.”

“Will do.” Ghost nodded and headed to the door, eager to see their sister and tease her. That is, if she was where she said she’d be and not about to jump their dear little pill bug. Ghost dissolved into void and made haste to the palace entrance...just in case.

While the two siblings had their conversation, Hornet had arrived at the Palace tram line. She got off as quickly as she could, not wanting to be boxed in with other bugs for longer than she had to. To give them credit, they did behave, but she wasn’t sure that it was due to early morning tiredness or the fact they simply got used to her. Thankful for that, she zipped away with her silk and needle to avoid the crowded station. A few flight capable bugs had the same idea, but gave her a wide berth to avoid her needle.

As she traveled she began to wonder a little. Who would be at the palace doors today? She did like Cloth, from one warrior to another. She was always eager to schedule a spar or ask how her own kingdom was doing. Tiso, she could barely stand. He annoyed her to no end, but somehow he gained enough respect from her to not just kill him. Plus it would make Ghost cry, and nobody was allowed to do that. Xena rarely was there to guard the door, so Hornet didn’t have much of a time to interact with her. She seemed to be a loner type, something she understood deeply. Ogrim of course, she dearly loved. He had taught her the basics of being a knight when she was just a little Sling. When the kingdom fell and he took up residence in the waterways, she made sure to visit. Flukes may be nasty looking, but they would do for food in a pinch, something Hornet was forced to partake in more than once.

She knew for sure that Hollow wouldn’t be there, it was their day off after-all.

Still, she expected everyone but Ghost to be there waiting for her.

She cut her thread and landed gracefully before them, standing up to assess them.

‘Hello, G-”

She gasped a squeak, as her sibling swept her up in a hug. The void around her purred and vibrated with barely contained excitement and happiness.

“Sister!” They boomed, perhaps a little louder than they meant too, as a few other bugs in the area turned to see what the commotion was. They saw her glare and quickly went to mind their own business again.

“My dear Spooder Sibling has returned, at last!” They nuzzled her forehead and she couldn’t find it in her heart to be annoyed about it.

She clutched the box of cookies in one set of arms, and unfolded the other two to return the hug. It was Sibling Day, she could afford to let her guard down for a little while. She can just enjoy the fact that she had family without some horrible plague or world ending catastrophic befalling them all. Especially since it was family she liked. She didn’t know what she’d do if the Pale King was still alive, most likely something not nice at all.

“Then let us not keep them waiting. I am sure they would like some help.” Ghost was slightly surprised by the willing touch, but recovered and begun to lead her up the winding stairs of the palace. She was getting used to casual touch again, and it felt pleasantly warm despite the cold of the void that made up their hands. She figured it was a family thing and left it at that.

Eventually, they released her. “Hollow is already upstairs. They are getting ready to start cooking.” They bounced a little on their feet, unable to contain their excitement. Hornet could barely contain her either and took one of their hands.

“I can watch, but I am not allowed to do much more than that.”

“Well, you did nearly burn down your suite...again.” She teased gently. “I can see why, as your Knight, that they would forbid you from putting yourself in danger.”

Ghost just humphed in response. “Quirrel kindly asks you to not attack him in the middle of court today. I wondered if you’d be down there waiting for him.”

“Well, it is Sibling Day. As if I would have the time to assess his combative ability.” She scoffed. “Your silly little Pillbug is safe for today.”

The statement seemed to put a little more pep in their step. As much as they joke around, Hornet really did like their husband. She just wanted to be sure that they would be ready in case of another scare. It wasn’t like she beat him up too badly. It was getting to the point where they would end in draws, something she was quite proud of. They barely arrived at the door to the Royal Suite when Hollow poked their head out of said door. They chirped and just like Ghost, ran over to pull her into a hug.

Hollow’s hugs were a little different from Ghost’s. Hollow was hyper aware of the places she did not want touched, and never hugged so tightly that she felt trapped. Gentle Hollow, with a heart bigger than most in the Kingdom, knew how to give the safest feeling hugs. Ghost was more excitable and eager, but Hollow was more careful and soft.

They gave her a nuzzle, and for a little moment, it was like when she was a sling, stealing hugs and nuzzles from Hollow when the Wyrm’s back was turned. She had called them ‘Holly’, because she couldn’t pronounce the harsh ‘ollo’ sound. Of course when caught, she always said that she ordered them to do so, but she knew the truth. It was Hollow who hugged and comforted her when she learned that her mother was going to sleep and never wake up again. Hollow wiped her tears after particularly harsh training sessions. Hollow was always there...even more than her mother or sire, though it wasn’t so much the fault of her mother.

She had despaired during the infection, her beloved Holly, suffering a fate worse than death. She had thought when Ghost returned, that finally their pain could be put to an end, but somehow clever little Ghost found a way to save them and everyone else.

She was more grateful than she could ever express.

Hollow pulled away from the hug and began to sign. “<It is good to see you, sister. Are you ready for a good day?”>

“Of course I am, because you are cooking.” She laughed as everyone piled into the room. “What’s the menu for today?”

<“Breakfast rolls, zucchini bread, TikTik and noodle soup, and roast Boolfy with garden vegetables and spices.”> They looked proud of themselves as they stepped into the kitchen and gestured around them. <“The roast I will make and put in now as it will take all day to cook and then I’ll make the bread and rolls.”>

“You are going to let me help you, right?”

Hollow nodded and handed her an apron. <”I am sure Ghost told you that they are not allowed to help?”>

“They did.” She she looked over the apron [No Bitchin’ in my Kitchen’] and tied it on.

Ghost just sat on a stool and looked like a kicked frog.

<“It’s okay, sibling. You can be the official taste tester.”> Hollow did their best to soothe Ghost’s bruised ego. All the power in the world, a god of gods, but couldn’t keep a kitchen from burning down to save their life. They seemed to be pleased with the suggestion and was content to lean over and watch.

Hornet and Hollow made quick work of dicing veggies and meats, occasionally slapping Ghost on the hand when they tried to steal little pieces. She nearly drooled when Hollow unwrapped the big chunk of boofly to douse in spices. She had gotten used to just snatching animals from the ground and eating them raw, fires were a luxury that would draw too much attention to her hiding spots. It still astonished her how plentiful food was now, she had started becoming concerned as prey started to vanish, them too being caught in the infection. But wildlife has recovered, and it brought her comfort that in case of another emergency, there would be food at least.

Hollow got the roast ready, sticking in the bottom part of the oven to slowly roast through the day while she busied herself with getting the wraps ready. She had to admit that she was a little hungry, the sight of fresh meat stirred up the want to scarf it down in case another meal was days away.

Then she saw the size of the wraps Hollow started making and realized she wasn’t going to stay hungry for long.

Hollow plated everything with all the mastery of a five star chef, only to see their creations vanish in a gnash of teeth and void the second it was set down. They weren’t offended but wished their siblings would slow down a little.

After inhaling breakfast, Ghost led them all to their private hot spring. Hornet was curious, she had never been in there, but she knew they had one. It was the only thing of luxury they requested and nobody was going to say no to that. Even then, it just looked like a regular hot spring, rocks and all, just enclosed in a room attached to the royal suite.

“Rather simple, isn’t it?” She remarked, looking over the walls where soul infused water fell down in a gentle waterfall, steaming as it filled up the pool. It looked big enough for someone to sit under it and she approved. She knew then where she was going to be.

“Less is more.” Ghost replied, bending over to check the water.

“Why is there a bench there?” She pointed, noticing the metal glinting in the low light.

“Don’t all hot springs have benches?”

She stared at them, and then looked to Hollow, who shrugged.

<“Siblings, you both need to get out more.”>

They probably spend the better part of three hours just lounging in the springs. Hornet appreciated the heat that worked its way through the joints of her chitin and eased her aches. She relaxed and let the little waterfall flow down her back and shoulders. She would definitely need to bring this up to mother. They would both probably deal with bugs a lot better if they had something like this waiting for them at the end of the day.

None of them spoke at all, they didn’t need to. It was cozy and quiet, the sounds of running water was enough to soothe her mind. She was used to quiet. More times than not, the sound of bugs everywhere, as happy as it made it, also aggravated her. It was so quiet and still then, the noise was still so new. She needed quiet moments and her siblings understood that.

The only sound came from Hollow as they rose out of the water halfway through their little spa moment.

<”I need to put the soup on”> was all they signed, and they left for but a moment, returning shortly. They had a bunch of freshly cut lavender flowers under their arms, which they threw into the spring. It just made it so much better.

Hornet must have dozed off, because she jerked to awareness she felt flicks of water being thrown on her face. Her first instinct was to grab her nail, only for her hand to meet water when she grasped to it.

“Sister,” Ghost was leaning close, eyes turned upwards in a smile. “If we stay any longer, we’re going to end up as bug soup.”

“You mean a bug and god soup.” She snorted. She raised her arms out and stretched, feeling rejuvenated.

“That and if we don’t get out, the soup Hollow made will get cold and then they’ll be sad.”

Hornet quickly stood and threw on their cloak. “Well, we can’t make them cry, that’s illegal.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but she was hungry again, and soup sounded very nice after a long dip in the springs.

How nice it was to have food when she wanted it.

-----

After soup (that was delicious of course), the siblings prepared for another part of their Sibling Day ritual.

Hornet held three paper lanterns under her arms as they took a hidden path away from the palace grounds. The Ancient basin might have been derelict and dead before, but life had returned to rim the path in glowing flowers and fungi. It once was a tunnel the Pale King would take to head to his lab down in the abyss, but Ghost had repurposed it for another reason.

They had told her that sometimes they felt the need to go down to ‘stretch’, spending time in their true form among the darkness. Too long squished in mortal sized form tended to make them feel jittery and cramped. She imagined it must feel like a molt that can’t progress and sympathized.

But it was also where the three could go to pay their respects and reflect.

The long dead siblings in the birthplace have since rejoined the void and thus, became a part of Ghost. But the individual potential they all had was now gone. Every single one of the hundreds of masks that still litter the bottom of the abyss was a thinking, feeling being, now gone forever.

Hornet was glad that at the end, they no longer had to suffer, and moved on by becoming one with her living sibling turned god. She however, wished that she could have known them. How would life be if she didn’t have two siblings, but hundreds? Before she was ignorant, and fought a few, and even separated a few shades from their shells. She forever felt regret over that even if Ghost told her that they all forgave her.

They eventually reached the dock that stretched out over the abyss and sat, legs dangling over the edge. They each took a lantern and lit the candles inside. Hornet put as much love as she could into the lantern, even if she felt a little foolish doing so, and let the lantern drift over the edge. There was nobody left to mourn in the abyss but...the ritual made her feel a little better.

Together they watched the lanterns drift slowly down, each light growing dimmer and dimmer before being consumed by the darkness. Time passed as they leaned on each other, until their legs grew numb and they headed back to the palace.

Sibling day was as much about the dead as much the living, and Hornet didn’t think she would ever forget that.

-----

Roast was served and eaten and the three found themselves lying around on the many pillows contained in the suite and looking up at the ceiling.

“Do you remember the forts we used to make in Dirthmouth?” Hornet mused. “We had more pillows and blankets than the rest of the citizens in that town combined."

<”Yes, they were the best. Very Cozy.”> Hollow’s head was next to her on the right, so she could see them sign. <”Dad was good at making them.”>

“Dad was the best at making them!” Ghost replied, to Hornet’s left. “Remember how he’d catch lumaflies to let them loose in the fort?”

“It was because they are Hollow’s favorite.” Hornet sighed, resting her hands on her belly where the roast currently resided (but not for long).

“It kinda makes me wish were were little again, before we had to do...all of this.”

There was a note of sadness in Ghost when they said that, and Hornet couldn’t help but feel the same. They managed to scrape together a few good years to be kids before responsibilities became too much to ignore. Hollow especially, since they were never even allowed to be a child. Ghost tried to remain as they were until molted a few times and could no longer get away from things by being small and cute. She would always cherish those years in Dirtmouth where she was allowed to be the child she was.

<”I know, but it’s not like we can’t do the things we like anymore. I have lumaflies, and you have the blankets and pillows.”> Hollow was quick to point out, gesturing at the room around them.

“And I can make sure you both aren’t going to build something that will collapse on your fool heads.” Hornet caught on fast, sitting up to pick up a pillow and drop it on Ghost’s face.

When Ghost didn’t respond right away, she piled more pillows on them before until they tried to escape. She laughed and sat on top of the pillow pile to trap them. “Go get your lumaflies, Holly. I think was can make something resembling the grandness of Mato’s pillow forts.”

Hollow rolled over to do just that while Hornet busied herself throwing things on top of Ghost as they tried to burrow out of the pillow pile. They were laughing too, so she didn’t feel too terrible tormenting them so. It was only when they gasped out a ‘I Yield!’ that she allowed them to escape.

The next half hour was spent with the three working together to build a passable cozy fort. Hornet was happy to see that her silk could make the structure much more sound and used it liberally. Hollow raided Ghost’s nest and took the mattress off of it to make the base, and after some trial and error, they made something quite comfortable. Hornet was especially pleased, spider eyes do not do well in bright lights, and the comforting dim haze in the fort was quite nice. Hollow released the lumaflies and the small bugs brought a lovely soft glow of colors to break up the monotony of the darkness. Ghost grabbed snacks and drinks and all three retreated inside.

As an after thought, Hornet grabbed a spare sheet of silk and wrote ‘No Wyrms Allowed’ and stuck it to the side of the fort. Somehow, it made her feel a little more secure.

The three lounged together talking about the past, some about the present, and a little bit about the future. She didn’t know how long they stayed up talking, but eventually she found herself to be the only one awake in a cuddle pile.

She was happy. Lying there in the dark of the fort, eating tiktik chips and gossiping, it brought back the time in her life when she was allowed to do nothing but be herself. It was short, but she was grateful all the same. She mused a little on a concept of a ‘family day’, but wasn’t so sure what would happen if Monomon, Mato, and her mother were in the same space for a prolonged period of time. Perhaps something chaotic, but she could perhaps plan for that.

Before she could keep up her thoughts, Hollow and Ghost snuggled up with their purring and Hornet could not stay awake with such an onslaught.

Hornet drifted off, feeling truly safe for once.

-----

Quirrel staggered up the stairs, half tempted to dig out the bottle of whiskey he kept in the dresser and downing the entire thing in one go. Today...was something else. A bunch of kids were caught letting wild stink beetles loose in a high class noble block and were now starting to multiply at an astonishing rate. A gang of mothers showed up with a petition to ban books with ‘suggestible themes’. Quirrel saw ‘The Famished Famished Firefly’ as first on the list and had to escort them all out of the courtroom after a stern talking to. He had to convince the Capital Board to just raise taxes on luxury goods to pay for a new tram station instead of cutting funding for education. To top it all off, the sandwich he was going to eat for lunch got snatched away by a vengefly. Truly, the worst.

What a day...er….next day. It was very late and no doubt his spouse would be wondering where he was. He hoped they had a good day with their siblings and was looking forward to a snuggle.

However, opening the door to his room showed that the day with their siblings had turned into a sleepover.

He stood for a moment, looking at the scene, unsure as what to do. He didn’t want to bother anyone, and surely Sibling Day was just that. A Day for siblings. He wasn’t about to be the selfish one and barge in on something so important, especially since Ghost rarely got to see Hornet and Hollow in one place. He figured he could go sleep in his office. The couch there was quite comfortable, after all.

He was about to close the door again when he heard a quiet voice in the darkness, sharp and feminine.

“Quirrel.”

“Oh!” He jumped. “Sorry Hornet, I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m so-”

“Shut up and get in here.”

He paused for a moment, the gears turning in his head at the request. He was...being invited?

“Shut the damn door and get in the cuddle pile before I make you.” She hissed.

He gulped and shut the door behind him and approached the pillow fort. When she stared hissing, it meant she means business and he did not want to test her at this time of night. He could see Hornet softly illuminated by the drifting lumaflies as she held open the blanket door. She gestured for him to climb inside, a finger held to her mouth as an indication to be quiet.

“Are you sure?” He whispered, bending down to crawl in.

“You married my sibling,” She whispered back, sounding a little exasperated. “What makes you think I don’t consider you a sibling too?”

“Because you beat the shit out of me.” He climbed inside with a grunt. Ghost must have sensed that he was there, because he was quickly grabbed with a squeak and held tightly to his spouse’s chest, like a plush toy.

“I beat up Ghost and Hollow. Your point is…?” She watched and offered no assistance whatsoever, her fangs curled up in a grin when Ghost squeezed him harder.

“Do you only beat up the people you like?” He made himself comfortable, quite happy on the inside to finally get a cuddle after such a day.

“You should know me by now Quirrel, that the people I choose to train and spar with are those I consider worthy of my time and respect. And who do I train just as hard as Ghost and Hollow?”

“Oh.” he whispered.

“Yes, ‘oh’. Now you know, dear brother.” She sounded amused through her fatigue. “We tried to invite you, but you were quite adamant about assuming duties for today. And how did that go?”

“I hated every second of it.” Quirrel sighed. He was surrounded by warmth and softness, and wasn’t too sure how long he’d be able to stay awake now that he was comfy.

“There you go, sleep well. Extra training sessions start tomorrow.”

Quirrel snapped out of his mental fuzz. “Wait, what ?!?”

He was only met with snores.

#fanfic #my writing #hollow knight #terra lumina #hornet #ghost/quirrel #quirrel/ghost #hollow #the hollow knight #two kings au #royalty au #quirrel #ghost #let them all be happy siblings weh #delving into hornet's lingering trauma #healing takes a long time #hollow's nickname is 'holly' #fluff #low key angst #cuddles #hornet only takes the time to beat up people she respects and cares for #because she doesn't waste her time 'training' people she hates #she just outright kills them #if she likes you she lets you live to git gud #hollow is a great at cooking #ghost burns everything they touch #they could burn water

[libraryofsouls]

How would the slashers react to a serial killer s/o? Feisty, deadly and cunning. I am just so curious and also love your interpretation of them. ❤️👌

thanks so much! I’m glad. 💖

slashers reactions to: a serial killer s/o

Asa Emory / The Collector

chances are, he’s already done some investigating on you. depending on how far you’ve gone with him - it’s sink or swim.

if he cares about you enough he’ll risk introducing you to his collection. don’t expect too much though, as he would still prefer to work alone.

if you somehow use him in some way for your own goals, you’ll quickly find yourself being the newest addition to the collection, so try not to get any funny ideas.

would definitely feel like you’re walking on eggshells with him. he’s notoriously cautious so he might not be a fan of the idea of you walking the same path as him.

be extra domestic with him and he’ll eventually warm up to the idea. sweet-talk him, offer to wash his bloodied clothes along with yours and he just might start convincing himself that it doesn’t sound so bad after all.

Billy Lenz

if he found out before you even started dating - he's likely to save you for last just to observe how you really work. you’re dangerous and he doesn’t like that. (just pray he doesn’t end you in your sleep.)

or if you choose to drop the bomb on him mid-relationship, he’ll be shocked. is that why you’re so understanding? so patient with him?

if he happens to witness you killing, he’ll incorporate those in his obscene phone calls. maybe mumble it to himself sometimes as well.

compliments from billy! you’re not just a “regular piggy” anymore. smart piggy! pretty piggy! bloody piggy.

maybe it would be better if you don’t get in his way though. he tends to lose control when going after someone so he might hurt you by accident. likewise he won’t intercept you if you’re busy butchering someone.

god forbid someone goes after you, he’ll go beserk. if you save him from someone he’s not gonna thank you directly, instead just rest on you and compliment you some more.

Bo Sinclair

ah you’re hot but also fuck right off. ambrose is his territory and he’s not willing to share.

mid-relationship: he’ll be less trusting towards you. how long have you kept this from him, and why? what are you really after?

reassure him and earn that trust back again before he even lets you anywhere near his victims. the only way he’ll agree to work with you is if he’s the one calling the shots.

it’s pretty easy to fall into place once you’ve gotten used to his habits. he won’t admit it but it’s much easier to handle bigger groups with an extra pair of hands.

rage level increase! he’ll be especially violent towards anyone who takes a swing at you, only to snap back at you with “are you fuckin’ stupid? you could’ve gotten hurt!”

he’s actually much better at patching up wounds than vincent - and you better believe he’ll be patching you up before anybody else. (including himself) shut up, he already knows he’s bleeding and he doesn’t care.

Brahms Heelshire

another observant lad. like billy, he’ll take time to watch you very closely to see how you work. you’re his nanny and you kill too? hot.

it’ll be hard to keep secrets in such a huge house with very thin walls so you’re not likely to get away with this without him knowing. downside is it’ll take a much longer time for brahmsy to reveal himself.

kill for him and he’s yours to keep. usually it’s the other way around but now that he knows you’re capable, he’ll be a lot more laid-back. unless of course his jealousy gets the best of him.

still expects you to keep up with the list, however. there’s not really a lot of victims needing immediate attention so your first priority should always be him.

surprisingly helpful. he won’t feel the need to butcher anyone anymore (again, unless his jealousy acts up.) so he might actually give you a hand - just make sure to reward him properly for his efforts.

Bubba Sawyer

nervous bubby is hesitant to even go near you. sure he’s big and has a chainsaw but you look really good at what you do so he’s a bit scared.

mid-relationship: you’re a WHAT? gasps. actually, now that he thinks about it, that explains a lot. that’s okay he still loves you a whole lot!

quick to inform the entire family. hey everybody!! guess who has the coolest s/o ever?! he does! makes sure grandpa sawyer gets to see just how impressive you are. he’s so proud!

drayton’s undoubtedly going to hear about this so congrats! you’ve now levelled up to meat-wrangler, just like bubby. the whole family will be quick to accept you - no questions asked.

bubba still panics whenever you get hurt though! so maybe don’t get too carried away. he’s quick to make sure the tougher victims are taken care of first so they don’t hurt his precious s/o.

Jason Voorhees

big boy is THREATENED. why are you here and what do you want? please leave right now. though you do seem oddly nice for someone who just beheaded a guy at the dock.

mid-relationship: frozen in shock. his beloved s/o? the one that kisses him every morning? struggles to believe it. he might even refuse to accept it unless you have a good reason to do so.

he might be more accepting if you do it to protect yourself or as a way to rid the camp of trespassers. for him? he’s not sure how to feel about that.

very against the idea. bad people won’t think twice about hurting you. it doesn’t matter if you’re good at defending yourself or not - jason just doesn’t want strangers near you.

help him and he’s thankful, but he’s still gonna remind you to stay away from the trespassers as much as possible. 

but jason, you cry out - no no no, he taps your nose, don’t you worry your pretty little head. he’ll do all the protecting, thank you very much.

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

if you make it on the news chromey is going to know about you asap. he’s got all the proper sources so you won’t exactly be as well-hidden as you thought. as long as you don’t go for his targets, he’ll leave you be.

if you happen to cross paths with him and things turn romantic then that makes things much easier on him. he’s more likely to keep you around in the long run knowing you’re okay with the lifestyle.

fucked-up games? you bet. this man is always up to no good and often tries to one-up you. bet his body count is bigger than yours. yeah? do you want proof?

would be very willing to let you tag along and watch. just don’t interact with his victims. at all. he’s fiercely possessive to a point that he’s not above fucking you in front of them to prove a point.

he’s not gonna assist you during your activities unless you’re in mortal danger but he’s also known to stalk you during your escapades. what do you mean “what the fuck are you doing here?” he brought you flowers like a good boyfriend and this is how you greet him? rude!

Michael Myers

hmm hot. even if you don’t tell him he already would have known before approaching you. he’ll be apprehensive if you choose to keep secrets from him, especially if he knows about them already.

if you trust him enough to tell him about this he’ll appreciate your honesty and might keep you around longer. hm sure okay but he knows already. (he’s not about to tell you that though)

do your own thing and leave him be. he doesn’t really care. upside is he won’t have to worry about you being attacked because he knows you’re capable of defending yourself even without him.

but that doesn’t stop him from being petty and obsessive. bashes the already motionless corpse of the idiot that attacked you. he’s not gonna stop until they turn into paste.

he works alone. don’t even try to follow him. stop it. don’t you have other places to be? shoo. firmly carries you back to the house and locks you there.

Thomas Hewitt

is it bad that he finds you.... kinda hot? you handle yourself well but he’s also lowkey afraid of you.

mid-relationship: like jason, he has trouble accepting the fact that his darling would be capable of such a horrid thing. he’ll be okay with it if you do it for the hewitts or for your own protection. otherwise he’s not into it.

killing bad. please leave it to him instead, okay? he doesn’t want you getting hurt. he’ll insist to do all the butchering despite hoyt’s loud protests that you should be pulling your own weight.

go ahead and brush up on your convincing skills because it’s not impossible to persuade him. (unlike jason). you would need to earn your right to provide for the family.

the hewitts are quicker to accept you into the family once you’ve proven yourself. you’ll fit right in! tommy’s always going to be a worrywart though regardless of how good you actually are.

Vincent Sinclair

might actually target you first because you’re the most dangerous. he’s much less likely to trust you since you’ve killed before.

mid-relationship: tell him very early in the relationship otherwise he might not trust you again. he’ll be understanding regardless of your intentions. (unless of course if it’s to harm him or his brothers, then he’s troubled.)

mother hen vincent would also prefer you don’t help out with the victims. bo’s already a handful by himself and he’s confident that the three of them (along with lester) can manage.

but he’s not going to forbid you, per se. he’s not gonna go out of his way to stop you. just as long as you’re smart about it and you don’t get hurt, then you can carry on.

again, an extra pair of hands means less work for everybody involved so as much as bo bitches about how trusting you might come back to bite them in the ass, they’re appreciative of your efforts.

#requests #reacts #slashers #asa emory #the collector #billy lenz #bo sinclair #brahms heelshire #bubba sawyer #jason voorhees #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #michael myers #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #slasher party #my writing

[jonnyparable]

Cottage Hills : The Red Chamber Part V

The Manuscript of Nehemiah

With all his magical ingredients and apparatus back in his possession, and the manuscript in his hands, Won can finally accomplish the work that he came here to do, since he arrived last year. But what is this manuscript? What's written in it and why did Won come all this way to get it ?

Won:

"At long last! The manuscript of Nehemiah, grand patriarch of the Moshus! I've come all this way, and now, thanks to you, Moguai, I finally have it! Now we can make these thieves pay for what they've done to my family!"

Moguai:

"Now that the manuscript of your great ancestor, Nehemiah is back where it belongs, in the hands of a Moshu, you can finally right the wrong that was done to your ancestors all those centuries ago. The manuscript was written by Nehemiah himself. And contains his very own recipe for making the most lethal potion in the world, the Black Cup. Better known as Death in a Bottle..."

Won:

"These fools may have the Golden Cup, which will protect them from lesser poisons, but even the Golden Flower's powers are useless against the finality of cold, brutal, instant death! "

The Next Day...

Old Acquaintances

As mid autumn rolls around, the town is busy preparing for the annual Mid Autumn Hotpot at the square, when who should come by the Cooper Farm but old friends, Eva and Oak, the scientists who saved Rod's life in the Simalayas last winter. He introduces them to his family, and catches them up on the miraculous happenings after his return to town.

Rod:

"Eva! Oak! You've come! Meet my wife and son. This is Lillia, and Rick."

Eva:

"Hello Tiger Spirit! It is wonderful to see you again. Your hometown is beautiful, like you said. Nice to finally meet you Lillia. We have heard much about you from Rod. We've come bearing gifts today. As promised, we come with medicine, made from the Golden Flower, which your husband found, but in an act of true nobility, gave to us. We are here to repay that debt"

Rod:

"Thank you, friends, but there is no need. As you can see, Lillia is well now. By some miracle, I believe the Goddess came to me in a dream, and planted the flower in my garden! Our local healer was able to use it to make a cure after all!"

Oak:

"My! That is tremendous news indeed! You are indeed very blessed! We must meet this healer!"

Rod:

"Of course! I shall bring you to see her later. For now, let me show you around the town! The Mayor would probably like to meet you too."

The Return of You-Know-Who

At Rose Square the mayor is currently overseeing preparations for the annual Mid Autumn Hotpot tomorrow as villagers help to set up the large iron pot and put up the lights and decorations. Every year, the townsfolk gather in the square and everyone brings an ingredient to add to the hot pot, followed by a hike up the mountain to see the full moon. The preparations are interrupted by Harris, who's come to tell everyone to stop.

Harris:

"Alright, listen up everyone. After the strange fire last night at the constabulary, Ellen was found unconscious in the church, and is currently recovering in the clinic. We have reason to believe that these are not isolated incidents and that You-know-who has returned. It is therefore unwise to go ahead with such gatherings. As such, everyone is advised to return to your homes for your safety immediately. Thank you everyone."

Mayor Thomas :

"Now, hold on a minute, son. I understand you're just being cautious but there's no need to make everyone panic. After all, there's no proof that any of this has to do with you-know-who, and-"

Harris :

"Father, with all due respect, the villager's safety is of the utmost importance. Until You-know-who is found, he will pose a constant threat to the town and I- We, must always be vigilant."

Just then, in the midst of their heated discussion, Rod arrives and introduces Eva and Oak. The Mayor, glad for the interruption, asks them to stay for tomorrow night's festivities, as the rest of the villagers continue with their preparations.

Mayor Thomas:

"Ah! So you are Rod's friends from the mountain! Rod has told us so much about you! Well, you two are heroes! And dear friends of the town! If you have no pressing matters to attend to, you simply must stay as our honoured guests and attend the festival tomorrow! The moon this autumn is particularly round, a very good omen!"

Harris:

"Father, please, I must insist that -"

Mayor Thomas:

"Alright, that's quite enough son. Your pursuit of Won has become a bit of an obsession of late, I must say. I think the villagers have had enough of all this you-know-who business and fear-mongering, when its clear that he's gone, and he's not coming back. The Goddess clearly watches over us! We must believe and never give in to fear! After all, He hasn't been seen for a year now, and the Goddess has blessed us with the Golden Cup, what's the worse you-know-who can do now even if he does return? "

Harris:

"Father! This isn't about fear! Have you forgotten what he did to us, and how much suffering he caused last year? Yes we are lucky to have the Golden Cup, but I'm duty bound to protect our town. Just because we've been unable to find him, doesn't mean he's gone. What if he's the one who hurt Ellen? "

Rod:

"Hurt her? What happened to Ellen?"

Harris:

"Last night she was found unconscious in the church. We don't know the exact reason why, but she's being examined by Dr. Tim as we speak...poor Ellen...how could all this happen in one night? "

Mayor Thomas:

"... Nobody blames you for what happened , you know... I know you mean well but.. "

Harris:

"At any rate, this festival cannot go on, its too risky, and..."

Mayor Thomas and Harris continue to disagree, and as Eva and Oak look into the serene face of the Goddess Statue behind them, they exchange concerned expressions. They have no idea who Harris and Mayor Thomas are talking about, but whoever he is, he seems to have the townspeople all worked up. They've come just in the nick of time it seems...

That Night...

The Autumn Moon

Back in You-Know-Who's hideout, Won is putting together the deadly ingredients for the Black Cup, and as he waits for the most important ingredient, he and Moguai discuss their diabolical plans.

Moguai:

"In the hot pot? Surely you jest."

Won:

"Not at all! It's perfect! Every autumn, these fools gather at the square and they all share from a pot of broth, laughing and cajoling and merry-making. It's the most vile thing I've ever seen, honestly. Pass me that bottle of newt's eyes, will you? They're probably making preparations for it as we speak. Now that we've gotten rid of that meddling Elmsley hag, this will be a breeze! I'll just freeze time long enough to add just a few drops of the Black Cup into their pot and...well, dinner is served!"

Moguai:

"Yes that's all well and good, but are you sure you have everything you need to make the Black Cup? The festival is tomorrow is it not?"

Won:

"Oh, yes, Moguai, yes we do. Not to worry. We have just enough to make one, which is all we need for now. As we speak, the last ingredient is on its way. Look up there, we have by act of providence, the biggest full moon we've seen in years this autumn equinox! When it reaches its highest point in the sky, I will call on its power to complete the potion! Sweet revenge is mine at long last!"

A Lamb to Slaughter

Meanwhile, Zack begins to worry about Olkan again. With a moon this big out, it seems Olkan's transformations are becoming longer and more violent. Zack goes out looking for him, just to make sure he's alright and not causing trouble. This time, however, he seems to have strayed a little far from their home in the wrong direction, and has stumbled into a strange part of the woods that he does not recognise. He sees some strange totems hanging in between two rocks. Unfamiliar with their significance, and drawn by curiosity, he walks through them...

As a Servo, Won's wards of concealment have no effect on him and he's able to just slip through, and Won's hideout is laid bare before him. Poor Zack soon stumbles upon Won and Moguai, and can't believe what he's hearing. He overhears Won talking about what they did to Ellen, and about his plans to somehow kill everyone in town by putting a lethal poison in the town's hot pot tomorrow! As Zack tries to override his panic function and execute his focusing program, so he can think about what to do next, he realises that they've stopped talking, and an eerie, suffocating silence hangs in the air...

Moguai:

"Hush! Someone has slipped through your wards. I smell a rat.... There! Below! He's heard us! Seize him!"

Zack turns to run, back to town to try and warn someone, anyone, and to tell them what Won is up to. But he doesn't get very far...

Moguai:

"And just where do you think you're going?"

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