#The lost skeleton returns again

[thefugitivesaint]

''Scary Monsters Magazine'', #77, 2011 Source

[skeletonpendeja]

At the climax of Z-SIDES is a theme for a fathom... didn’t we do this already? At her full strength and power, Josie Malogicus is much more than the mind can comprehend.

[daandyli0n]

so, i’ve been playing some good old Modded Minecraft On Singleplayer and i’m using a fox skin that i made for fun once. i’ve currently got a new oc pretty much

the big mods to keep in mind for this are:

- the new version of the Minceraft Comes Alive mod (turns villages into actual people that you can talk to and have relationships with)

- From the Fog (basically a Herobrine mod: he just kinda shows up and watches you among other things)

- a mod that makes cool dungeons (with cool loot inside) appear

- a backpack mod

so, with all of this in mind

meet Lala, an anthropomorpic fox, who has, among other things:

- made a small cottage in between two villages

- pretty much disappeared into a nearby dungeon for a while and returned with large amounts of rare stuff, which she then had to build a storage building to contain

- is practically viewed as a feral cryptid by both villages, who both have conflicting feelings on her

- has chosen to live a peaceful life fishing, and has even built a pier to fish on, where she now spends most of her day (this is despite the riches she has accumulated)

- has gotten jumpscared by Herobrine on multiple occasions while turning around, and has even tried to chase him when he runs away (has not successfully caught him yet)

- gladly runs through rain and mud, leading her to arrive at the villages wet and dirty during rainy days (doesn’t really help her reputation)

- skips and hops wherever she goes

so yeah. she has also made a friend(?) by telling him stories about her dungeon exploration (aka “The Reason She Was Gone For About A Week”). he can tell that it probably Messed Her Up a little bit...

oh yeah! she’s even bi :]

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Coveted.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.

[Part Two]

“You’re Satoru’s date, right?”

The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”

He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”

With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.

It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”

It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. ���He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”

A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”

“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”  

At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”

His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”

“You’d protect me?”

“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”

You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”

His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.

You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”

“It’ll be my treat.”

“What happens I refuse?”

“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”

You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.

You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.

Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”

This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.

“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”

[yaut-jaknowit]

Y'know what? I think it'd be funny as hell if a human farmer (y/n) befriended a xenomorph. And it acts like a cute, drooling, ..alien dog. And their male Yautja parter tolerates the Xeno while in front or near his human mate. But when y/n disappears. They both are just at each other's throats?

If that's okay, also I love your writing! And I cannot wait to see more! And I hope you have a lovely day/night

Lost Dog

Character: Con'tei (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader with Xeno

Word Count: 1784

Summary: As a farmer on a planet not many know, you live your life contently. Waking up early to go out into the fields and work. It's just yourself and your mate, Con'tei. Until a special alien shows up and worms its way into your soft heart instantly.

Author Note: This is such a funny idea.

Masterlist

Ao3

Ever since that day you stumbled upon an injured Xenomorph, it’s been attached to your hip. Since that same day, Con’tei has wanted nothing more than to tear the alien apart. No matter how many times you asked him to at least be civil with the thing. The Yautja has his own thoughts of the Xenomorph. That being having its head upon his wall. Specifically above the bed. Its nonexistent, lifeless eyes peering down at you. Con’tei was sure to let you of every detail to paint a picture inside of your mind. Every time.

When the Xeno looked up at you, guts nearly splattered across the edge of your corn field, you had fallen. Though it has no eyes, you felt compelled to help it back to your dwelling. Con’tei had been off on a hunt and left you enough time to patch up the creature. Until the Yautja returned and smelled the scent of a hard meat on the property. It took lots of sweet talking to get the male to calm down and listening to your voice.

Finally, Con’tei was able to think clearly after he saw you were okay. No injuries. No smell of blood. Not even fear in the air. The Yautja was more than confused on the what, why, and how. That only grew worse when he only had to take step to the side.

There in the bath tub of the dwelling sat the observing hard meat, just peering at him. You physically had to wrap your arms around Con’tei’s thin waist and pull the newly blooded away.

Worst of all, the xeno morph lept out of the tub when it saw the struggle. Its instincts flaring to life. It thought you were fighting the enemy and rushed out to help. Water dripped down its black, scared hide. Sharp silver teeth were bared at Con’tei. Its long, black tail whipped side to side.

A yelp slipped from your lips. Con’tei pushed you off of him a bit too harsh and lunged at the creature. You fell down to the ground and landed wrong on your wrist.

The two clash for a second when your sharp cry sounded an alarm. Each held onto the other, ready to draw blood. They whipped their heads over to your lying, prone form. One pushed at the other and nearly climbed over each other.

Con’tei reaches you first and kneels down at your side. But, he’s shoved off to the side by a black, skeleton hand. A deep bellow tumbled out of his chest as he reared back up to kill the hard meat somehow in your shared home.

It’s your crying that breaks the two of them up again. They separate once more to rush to your aid. For the moment, they were able to ignore the other. Con’tei’s dark orange hands touches at your hands. One was pinned to your chest by the other. Pain radiating from one. A deep purr vibrated from the Yautja in a comforting manner. His bright yellow eyes scanned over the rest of you. The only thing that was of concern was the wrist you were clutching onto.

Across from you, the xenomorph was whining and nudging its elongated head against your cheek. The move didn’t go unnoticed by Con’tei who snarled and scooped you away from the creature. This nearly became a tug-of-war match until you shouted, “stop it!” Each alien stilled.

“Stop fighting, please! I’m in pain and you’re only making it worse.” Con’tei whimpered and bowed his head in a manner that resembled a kicked puppy. “And you’re not making it any better by flailing around.” The xeno lowered its own head, tail dropping to the ground.

“Now, please, put me down. I think I just pulled a muscle in my wrist no thanks to the two of you,” you snapped at the two of them. The anger mostly coming from the pain sprouting from your throbbing wrist.

One look in your heat gaze had the Yautja listening to you. Your feet gingerly touched the ground. Con’tei was hesitant to let go of you at first. His gaze couldn’t stop flickering towards the creature he was sworn to kill. His muscles twitched as he fought every single cell in his body not to leap over you and slaughter it where it stood.

Instantly, you turned towards Con’tei and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Hey! Look at me, sir,” you demanded. The burnt orange Yautja had to drag his gaze off of the xeno. You had just turned your back to it with little care of your safety. “I know you are freaking internally and externally but let me explain.”

He bristled. Of course, you better explain in why in Cetanu’s name is there a hard meat in your home. And why was is following you around? Why was is it protecting you? His first thought was dismissed when smelled no change to your body. It hadn’t implanted anything into you. Con’tei snorted and crossed his arms.

You couldn’t help the sigh, shoulders sagging a little. “Okay, I deserved that.” Con’tei could agree with that. “But, you must see it from my side. I was working the field when I stumbled across this poor thing, all injured and begging for help.” He was ready to shake some sense into you. “I took it home and nursed it back to health. Now, its like a dog! It follows around and helps me around the house and even in the field.”

His anger flooded back to Con’tei’s mind and nearly blinded him. How could the one person he loves in the universe say such stupidity in the moment? He knew you were smarter than this. Yet, here you were proving him wrong with each word that falls out of your mouth.

The xeno made its point by coming up behind you and nuzzling its ugly face into the crook of your neck. His muscles flexed. “And why do you have it our home? Why isn’t it dead?” Injured, you should’ve had little trouble by exterminating the cursed thing. Why did your heart have to be so big? Why did your luck have to be so terrible?

Your face soured. You stepped back and patted the top of the xenomorph’s smooth, shiny head. It gave a chuff and rubbed against you some more. “Because, it was injured! I had to save it. I wasn’t going to let it die! What kind of person do you take me for to leave an injured creature for dead?” By Paya’s name, if he didn’t love you so much. He desperately wanted to shake some sense into you. Maybe rattle the thought of care for it out of your head.

“Exactly why it should be dead. You had a chance to kill it. Why didn’t you take it?” His hunter mind couldn’t grasp the thought process of your ooman brain.

Those were the wrong words to say.

“I told you! It was injured and I’m not like you. It looked so sad and pathetic. Now, look at it! It’s like a puppy I’ve always wanted. A very…” you trailed off to glance over your shoulder. “A very big, scary puppy who would protect me!”

There was truth to your words. Clearly, it was willing to protect you from someone who could easily kill it. But to leave it to live, Con’tei couldn’t let himself live with that knowledge. Even if it showed compliancy to you at the moment, who knows when its baser instincts kick in and slaughter you or use your body for a host.

Con’tei huffed and narrowed his bright eyes on you. “I said no.” The Yautja was still young and recently gained his clan marking during his chiva against these blasted creatures.

The way your brows jumped at his denial; then, your gaze darkened. Con’tei felt a drop of fear fall into the pit of his stomach. “No? Well, mister, it’s not up to you. You go off on these hunts all by yourself for a week or so. I’m left all alone!” You turned your head and nuzzled against the unforgiving, smooth surface of the xenomorph’s cheek. “What happens if something attacks our home? I can’t protect it to save my life. With it, I could at least stand a chance.”

What were you thinking?! After everything he’s told you about his near failure during his chiva, you had wished for the hard meat to stay. You go against his direct order to protect you keep it!

Yet… the truth behind your words sunk deep into the soft tissue of his brain. The knowledge this planet held many dangers while you sit at home, unprotected and weaponless, churned his stomach. Con’tei gritted his mandibles and looked over your shoulder. The creature had its face turned towards him, chin resting on your shoulder.

He tried to think of ways to convince you. Maybe, he’ll spend what little credits he had to get you a creature to protect you. Something he could train from a young age. Something that wasn’t a hard meat that could tear out your throat in a instant.

When his gaze returned to you, his stubbornness finally cracked. A groan sounded from him. “Little one, I swear…” he trailed off then let his shoulders sag. “Alright, alright. Fine. But, you must have it trained. A collar will be put on it. It will send an electric shock through its body, immobilizing it should it turn on you. I’m warning you, my mate.”

All of his stories he’s told you were fresh in your mind. His near defeat of his own life by these creatures. But, the loneness of sitting in an empty house made life difficult.

A squeal pierced the air. Your arms snatched around his waist. Con’tei jolted at first then let himself settle in your embrace before his own arms return the motion. The hunt had been long and made him long for this affection with you this entire time. What is he going to do with his little ooman who has him wrapped around their tiny pinkie finger?

With a sigh, he lets you go.

“Okay, you two be good then. I’ve gotta go clean up the bathroom!” You blew each of them a kiss before skipping towards the bathroom. The door was closed behind you to clean up the mess the xenomorph had left behind in his wake of protection.

Both of the alien’s watched as the door closed behind you. Then, they snapped their heads towards the other. A second paused the still air. Each lunged at the other in a clash of fangs, claws, and snarls.

[mak-be-ghouled]

The Sound of the End of Day

2.1k Words of Angst/comfort

Mountain/Dew (and a bit of Aether)

Terzo, Copia, and other ghouls mentioned

A huge thank you to @nastylittleghouls and @divine-misfortune for their thoughts under this post:)

the tittle being from Monstrance Clock only felt right

When Copia is lifted by the Skeleton Dancers during Dance Macabre, Mountain and Dew are taken back to one of the worst days in their time topside. 

They had officially made it to the final leg of the Re-Imperatour.  

Unfathomable hours were poured into rehearsals long before the tour was even announced. Any one of the ghouls could've played the show forwards, backwards, and in their sleep. They knew the order by heart, had already performed it more times than they cared to count. 

But this one was special, Papa was adamant about how important the shows in LA would be, and the ghouls were determined to do their part for their Papa. Hell, they even had choreography coordinated with real dancers. 

And so, more rehearsals were called, plugging in the Chamber Ghoulettes and the Skeleton Dancers. Sure, the ghouls weren't exactly used to sharing the stage with so many others, but they couldn't deny the sheer talent of the new additions. They rehearsed until every moving part was perfect. Until they were certain there would be no surprises. 

But something about the crowd’s screaming, the blinding lights, the shadowy figures, the music, the lift.  

The fucking lift.  

Mountain and Dew hadn't made the connection until now.  

The audience screamed, their Papa was in the air, and the music was still going.  

But Mountain and Dew were back on that dammed stage. 

That Gothenburg stage where they were promised they’d never have to return to. That stage where they saw their former Papa for the last time. That stage where Terzo was ripped from them before they even processed what was going on. That stage that haunted their nightmares and the darkest corners of their minds.  

Papa was in the air and Mountain was stuck behind his kit. He was frozen, just like last time. Just like he had sworn he wouldn't allow himself to do ever again. It's a wonder he only stalled for a moment. Straining to focus on Rain’s base line, to keep up. His head was swimming and he was drowning. 

And yet, no one else seemed phased. Swiss was still singing, still dancing--well moving his hips in a way that could maybe be interpreted as dancing. Aurora and Cumulus were still singing and dancing together, mimicking the Skeletons from earlier. Phantom was still working the audience as always. Cirrus was still playing. Rain still stood strong, was still in time. 

But Dew.  

Dew saw it too. The moment Papa was in the air his eyes fled to Aether. But Aether wasn't there. Aether wasn't on tour. There wasn't anyone to run after Copia. Dew’s heart stutters as he scans the stage. 

Finally, his eyes land on Mountain. Just like they had that night.  

Dew was certain they’d lost another Papa. He turned to run backstage. To follow those shadowy figures this time. To do what he hadn't then. What he beats himself up for not doing. What fuels that nagging voice in his mind.  

Dew is in auto pilot. He’s straining to find tempo again. To find the right notes on his bass. Dew’s hands are shaking so hard he's not sure any of the notes he's played in the last minute have been even remotely correct. He doesn't recognize the song anymore; this isn't Monstrance Clock and his bass feel wrong. Too Small. Too Light. 

Dew sees the fear behind Mountains eyes. Knows it's the same fear that is clouding his vision too. Dew watches Mountain shake his head, desperately trying to clear the fog.  

After what feels like an eternity Mountain returns Dew's gaze. Mountain gives him a firm nod and a half smile. It's so incredibly forced but that doesn't matter. Not right now. Somehow it makes everything okay. Confirms that Mountain saw it too.  

That it's not real this time. Papa is okay this time. He won't have to watch Aether run after him this time. He won’t have to run after them both this time.  

Finally, Dew can feel his hands again and The Forum isn't spinning quite so fast. He looks down. He’s not holding a bass. Fucking of course he isn't, he's got his guitar in his hands. He thinks he might hear Dance Macabre echoing in his mind. But it's so distant. A dream maybe? This certainly wouldn't be the first dream Dew’s had of this moment. 

And then, everything goes quiet. Copia is back on the ground. He isn't shouting or fighting. He’s singing. The crowd isn't screaming in fear, they're cheering. Those shadowy figures have disappeared. The Skeleton Dancers are still surrounding Copia, but he's still there. Still standing. Copia isn't being dragged off the stage kicking and screaming. He’s safe. He’s alive. 

Mountain can barely hold his drumsticks and Dew is sure he would've dropped his guitar if it wasn't for the strap on his shoulder. They shoot each other a final glance before Square Hammer starts. Before they have to pretend like they didn't just watch their Papa get pulled from the stage, leaving them helpless.  

And yet, by the looks on everyone else's faces, they hadn't. No one seems to care.  

Dew’s stomach twists and he's positive he's going to throw up. 

Mountain’s not much better, swaying slightly behind his kit, dizzy. 

They want nothing more than for this fucking show to be over with. To know that their Papa is okay. That they didn't fail him again. To call Aether.  

As soon as Copia finishes his farewell speech, Mountain and Dew are flanking his sides. This isn't their normal spots for bows, but they have to be around Copia right now. To hold his hand. To know that he's alright. They don't want to overwhelm him. They don't want to do anything too drastic; they know how important this show is for him. But they have to know he’s okay. They pull Copia into a bone cracking hug, and while Copia appreciates their affection, something neither Dew nor Mountain are particularly fond of sharing in front of this many people, he can't help but wonder what has prompted it. 

The ride to the hotel is a blur. Mountain vaguely remembers Cirrus’s questioning glance and Swiss’s hand on his back, leading him towards the bus. 

Dew thinks he hears Rain’s voice send comments and compliments his way, the beginning of a call and response of sort, a habit they’d fallen into after Rain’s first ritual. But this time Dew’s response is just a nod, hardly even perceptible had Rain not been burning holes into him with his stare since he caught whiff of Dew’s distress during Dance Macabre.  

When they arrive at the hotel, Dew is a bit more present. Asking Copia to ensure he and Mountain room together. He reassures the pack that him and Mountain are okay. Drained, but okay.  

He tries his hardest to guide Mountain to their room. To be the life preserver he knows Mountain needs right now. But fuck does he need one too.  

He feels bad calling Aether without checking what time it is over there, but doesn't even have the time to consider anything else before his arms are moving on their own accord. Pulling out his phone and finding Aether’s contact. Mountain needs Aether right now. Dew needs Aether right now. 

Dew knew how much Mountain still thought about that night. Mountain had confided in Dew shortly after it.  

In The Pits, Mountain was ridiculed for being a plant-specialized Earth Giant. Others thought that made him soft, pointless. Earth Giants were meant to be geological, what good would a giant with a knack for plants be, that job was for the little ones. 

Mountain was paralyzed with fear. He was stuck behind his drum kit. Forced to watch as Terzo disappeared. He was helpless. Years of working on himself, his self-image, his confidence, flushed down the drain in that single moment. Again, Mountain began to wonder if they were correct. Maybe he really was soft. Useless. A sorry excuse for an Earth Giant.  

“Hi Sweet Thing. You with us?” 

Mountain is ripped from his thoughts as he hears Aether's voice. It’s crackly and a bit robotic through the speakers of Dew’s phone, but it is undeniably Aether.  

“Hmm?” 

Mountain hums, his eyes finally focusing on something for the first time in hours. 

Dew is holding his phone in front of his face, Aether is dimly lit on the other end, smiling softly at them. 

“There he is.” 

Aether's eyes light up as Mountain acknowledges him for the first time since he'd answered Dew's call.

“Wasn't right without you Aeth. Fuck. Kept looking around for you. Imagined you running after him”  

Dew laughs dryly to himself but tears fill his eyes. 

Aether wishes he could just crawl through the screen and hold his boys. He knows how much they love Copia, how much Terzo's death affected them. How much it affected himself. But he’s on the other side of the fucking world, so he just hopes his words and presence, even if though a phone screen, can provide them enough comfort to get some rest before they have to do this all over again tomorrow. Without him. Again.  

“I know baby, I'm so sorry. Wish I was there too”  

Aether smiles sadly though the phone. 

“Guess neither of us made too big a fool of ourselves though, maybe those pointless rehearsals weren't so pointless”  

Dew tries to joke, but Aether can see right through him. 

“Why didn't I see it?” 

Mountain mumbles into the space between Dew’s neck and shoulder that he’s crammed himself into. 

“What was that Hun?” 

Dew asks, rubbing the back of Mountain’s head where his hair had been tied back for the show. 

“The lift, I mean why didn’t I see it before. We practiced--Satan knows how many times-- just like you said, and I never once thought anything of it until tonight. Why'd it have to hit me in the middle of a fucking show. Probably made a dumbass of myself up there loosing time during the second to last song of the night... Was supposed to be perfect for Papa.”  

Mountain whispers the last part, but Dew and Aether are still able to catch it.  

Dew pulls Mountain closer to himself and Aether’s heart breaks, longing to reach out, to whisk those worries away. 

“Mountain, I didn't make the connection until tonight either. It was different. I dunno how, but it... was.”  

Dew silently curses himself for his lack of explanation, he knows that's what Mountain needs right now. Mountain needs logic. Something that tells him why something happened so he can avoid it next time. But truthfully Dew doesn't know. He doesn't know why tonight was different, but it was, and it fucked him up too. 

“I'm sure it had something to do with the crowd and the stage lights. I remember those helmets; you can't see shit in ‘em. Hearing people screaming, being blinded and burned by those lights, watching someone you care about, who holds the same title, in the same spot as one of the most traumatic events of your time topside. That’s probably why it was different. I know that doesn't change anything, but it does make a difference.”  

Aether adds.  

And logically Mountain knows Dew is right, that Aether is right. That it was different. But he still hates himself for faltering, even if no one else noticed.  

“Plus, I'm sure if you really did mess up, anything noticeably at least, we all would've gotten a smartass text from Swiss. I'm thinking something along the lines of ‘The All-Mighty Mountain Crumbles at the Sight of a Dangerously Handsome Multi's Hips"  

Aether jokes while drawing a rectangle in the air with his hands, mimicking a news headline, hoping to bring his mates back down to Earth.  

Dew giggles, a genuine giggle and Mountain huffs out a laugh. It isn't much, he knows that, but Aether has never been prouder of himself.  

They talk for a bit longer, until Mountain and Dew’s minds have cleared a bit and their eyes have returned to that deep forest green and the vibrant copper and ocean blue Aether had fallen so in love with, before any of this mattered.  

Mountain and Dew finally settle into their bed. Their position is awkward at best but they’re comfortable. They're Here. They have each other. Copia is alright. They're alright.  

And that's all that matters right now. 

All that can matter right now. 

[magic-hcs]

So here's a scenario.

S/O is a confident, kind and relaxed person who seems like they can do everything perfectly . But one day the skeleton found out S/O were talking on the phone, responding with only "yes, yes... I know, I'm sorry I'm not good enough ...yes..." while tears falling quietly. Turn out it was S/O's family, always think S/O are not good enough and tell S/O as such, didn't care they hurt S/O's feelings. This is why S/O do everything perfectly, to reach up their family's expectations, and they gain confidence from it, but still feel they are trash when be told it's not good enough by family.

How would Sans, Red, Bear and Syrup react to this situation?

Thank you so much for being so patient with me! I’ve found that I struggled way too much with this for a while, however I don’t give up quickly. I hope it was worth the wait!

Red: UF Sans

Bear: HT Sans

Syrup: US Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Sans: When Sans found out what your parents were like, Sans was speechless. It pains him, knowing that your family treats you like that. He could never phantom being anything but supportive towards his younger brother and Papyrus doing the same for him.

It’s not his business to meddle into your family affairs, so he won’t try to intervene or scold your parents: what good would that do? He could make it worse. No, Sans has a different idea. What kind of idea? Well, he regularly invites you to Paps and his family day/nights. Letting you join and experience this side of what family is; supportive, encouraging, and kicking butts into gear when someone’s being lazy in a caring way.

If your parents bring you down, the skelebrothers will bring you up. Showing that no, you are good enough, that you can do it, that you aren’t alone and that there’s someone standing behind you. That there is someone out there who really cares about you.

✨✨

Red: Red has always admired how you are so confident and how you work so hard. At first he just thought you did that for yourself. Red thought that sometimes you had insecurity spells that would hit you at random times which would leave you timid and a yay-sayer for a few days before returning to your old self. But then he found out what was really going on. And suddenly Red really wanted to have a little chat with your family.

How had he found out, you may be wondering. It was by pure coincidence really, Red had fallen asleep on the couch and you were calling with your parents. Red can be a light sleeper sometimes, and it so happened that it was that kind of day. Waking up to your voice, Red listened drowsily.

“Yes, I’m not good enough…”

That woke him right up. And as he continued to listen to the one sided conversation, Red didn’t need to know what your parents said to connect the dots. Oh, yes, Red was pissed. You won’t be wrong to believe that Red shortcuts next to you to snatch your phone from your hand. His words are an intimidating growl that sends shivers down even your spine despite it not being directed at you.

“sew ya fuckin’ bullshit mouth shut.” He barked, and when your parents tried to speak up again Red continued, “get lost and fuckin’ die in a ditch!” Promptly hanging up afterwards, not even waiting for a reply. Not the best choice of words to get your parents to understand how wrong they are about you and the way they treat you. But Red was too angry to really care. No one treats his mate like this, not even the parents.

Red isn’t that good at comfort, however, that doesn’t mean he’s not there for you to aggressively support you in his own way.

✨✨

Bear: If Bear had feathers, they would be ruffled right now. Bear pretty much shares Red’s sentiment: No one treats his mate like that, not even your parents.

But unlike Red, Bear isn’t one for verbal threats. When he knows you’re talking on the phone to your parents and they talk horseshit Bear will just grab the phone out of your hand - rather gently despite his anger, I might add - and quietly listens to your parents discouraging spiel for a moment. Letting them think they’re still talking to you until they realize that the loud, menacing sound of breathing on the other end of the phone isn’t you.

And when they let it show that they know it isn’t you, Bear hangs up the phone.

(For the longest time Bear didn’t speak back because he would get too angry to form words. And without noticing his breathing would get heavier and louder the longer your parents talked, also because he got angrier by the second. Now he just does it to mess with them.)

The first time this happened, your parents realized it very late. “Did you understand a thing I said?” They had huffed when you didn’t answer their rant with a timid, pliant reply. Heavy breathing was the only thing picked up by the phone. Lucky them or they had heard the grinding of Bear’s teeth as well. Your parents had called your name, unsure, and Bear only replied with his raging breaths. That’s when they knew they weren’t speaking to you anymore.

“You…You-Who are you?”

Your parents felt like they were in a horror movie, it was obvious by the hitch in their breath, by the slight quiver in their tone. It was the first time after leaving the underground and having gone through therapy that Bear felt so much satisfaction by their fear. He relished the feeling. He hung up afterwards.

Your parents have gotten quicker with realizing when it’s Bear who’s on the other end of the phone. And if you try to take back the phone, Bear won’t let you. For his slow, slurred speech and delayed ability to process things, Bear is surprisingly swift and has amazing reflexes. Whenever your parents have called, expect to be coddled and worshipped by Bear the entire day afterwards. Practically pressing you inside his ribcage if he could with his insistence on cuddles.

✨✨

Syrup: Syrup wants you to cut contact with your parents. Not that he says that out loud for you to hear of course. But he still thinks you should. He hasn’t even properly met your parents yet, yet he already doesn’t like them at all. Holds a grudge against them from the first moment Syrup overheard you talking to them on the phone.

Oh, how he just wanted to grab the device, check the number (to find blackmail on them for reasons, he wasn’t a tech person for nothing) and block it. But he didn’t. Yet.

What Syrup does do is side-eying the phone whenever they call you. Trying to listen along and interrupt them loudly when they’re about to say something mean about you. Or try to get you to hang up early by making up all kinds of excuses: Sky needs help with something, Syrup can’t find something, you have to see this, you were supposed to hang out with him today, etc.

There was one day where you were really in a bad headspace when they had called. Syrup had seen red that day. He snatched the phone out your hands and growled at the phone. “fuck off. if you can’t see what a wonderful person your child is, then-then maybe you shouldn't have become parents in the first place.” And hung up just like that, without waiting for a response. His face had been flushed orange from anger and his shoulders tense.

Expect lots of snuggles and sweet, funny memes from Syrup whenever you’re down in the dumps thanks to your parents.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #6

Previous: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Angeal: No, Genesis, you spaghetti-noodle-spine-having-ass bitch.

Sephiroth: I identify as a tonberry *chases Cloud with a kitchen knife*

Zack: Ra Ra Rasputin *kicks Sephiroth over*

Genesis: Unhand me you cretin *alone, talking to no one*

Angeal: Zack just showed me a picture of the Grinch and said "hear me out"

Lazard: No, Sephiroth, you cannot have a human-sized cat bed in your office "for enrichment"

Cloud: Parkour time *crashes through the air vents*

Sephiroth: I'm the biggest lesbian ally in this department, actually.

Angeal: For the sake of my sanity I'm gonna pretend I didn't just see Zack twerking to One Winged Angel.

Luxiere: I would commit unspeakable atrocities for a crumb of Zack's attention.

Lazard: That stripper pole better be gone when I get back or so help me, Genesis, I will return you to the goddess.

Sephiroth: *does a single pump of sore throat spray* This is enough for sustenance for the day.

Kunsel: Care for a deep-fried cigarette?

Angeal: You look like an AI-generated twink.

Sephiroth: I've grown so tired of Genesis's voice that we now communicate solely through interpretive dance.

Lazard, over the speakers: Whoever heated fish in the break room microwave, please come by my office so I can break your knees.

Zack: Aww, I forgot to feed the Roomba :(

Genesis: I don't know why me and Angeal are being judged. Simulating a birth with a watermelon is a perfectly normal activity for two people.

Kunsel: Hopefully this office party won't end in accidental weed use.

Angeal: WHY IS THERE A FAMILY OF RACCOONS IN THE TRAINING ROOM?

Genesis: I noticed some homosexual subtext in your screams, do you want to talk about that?

Angeal: *sniff sniff* Ooh~ who's barbecuing? OH MY GOD IT'S AN ELECTRIC FIRE.

Roche: Every time I think about chopping my hair short I think "Sephiroth wouldn't want this for me" and the feeling is gone.

Genesis: I made a friend *drags in a skeleton with a Sephiroth wig*

Cloud: *points at Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth* Pure of heart, dumb of ass, big of tit.

Lazard: I told Zack to use Excel and he started sobbing.

Angeal: WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST SEASONING YOUR GROUND BEEF?

Sephiroth: It's extremely rude to ask someone why they're eating a salad bowl of udon at 8 AM. Mind your business, Zack.

Cloud: Genesis likes Loveless so much because the title resonates with his love life.

Zack: You keep your anxiety pills in a takeaway to-go box? Dude that's so fancy.

Lazard: Why is Sephiroth the only one wearing a shirt??

Angeal: Common sense has chased Zack all his life but he wears wheelies so he's faster

Sephiroth: I personally don't use the peace sign because I haven't had a day of peace since I was 12.

Kunsel: I'm never going out in public with Zack again. A child's balloon popped when it went near his hair.

Angeal: No I'm not giving you an aspirin. Last time I gave you one you crushed it and snorted it like cocaine.

Lazard: An overwhelming majority of you peaked in kindergarten.

Sephiroth: Zack, I'm becoming increasingly concerned by the amount of potatoes in your pants right now.

Zack: This year I want an A/B/O themed birthday party.

Sephiroth: Please don't commit tax fraud, Genesis. You won't thrive in prison.

Genesis: Does anyone have an extra ramen packet to give Sephiroth? The 64 he consumed this morning weren't enough.

Roche: Commander Rhapsodos and his emo fringe is our culture.

Zack: I'm at my fucking limit! I'm about to eat a vegetable!

Genesis: He's a son of a bitch Sephiroth: That implies he has a mother, so I don't see how that's an insult.

Zack: Fuck around and find out *said with a chunk of Genesis' red coat hanging from his pocket*

Cloud: Does anyone have an extra brain cell? I lost my remaining one when Genesis spoke to me this morning.

Sephiroth: Damn.

Kunsel: Zack owes me so much money that if he sold his box of random shit he stole from Angeal, he still couldn't pay me back.

Angeal: Why are you guys playing Queen's Blood in the closet? is this a metaphor?

Genesis: Have you prayed to your Sephiroth cardboard cutout yet today?

Sephiroth: Alert me once Rufus Shinra arrives so that I may greet him adequately *said while building a pipe bomb*

Lazard: It's all fun and games until the timeout cage that I ordered online arrives.

Genesis: I will atone for my sins by becoming a nuisance to the environment.

Cloud: If Zack were a scented candle he'd smell like ADHD and crayons.

Sephiroth, standing on a table: DO NOT. EAT. THE CHEESECAKE. IN THE FRIDGE. It's mine.

Angeal: *with a bucket while it's raining hale* Free ice baby.

Zack: I finally have enough gil to buy a sixteen bouncy castles.

Genesis: Being overcome with the desire to eat pasta and call your mother at 2 AM and wondering if you're having a mental breakdown or are possessed by Sephiroth.

Lazard: I can't fire any of you, but I'm about to start setting things on fire.

[eternal-evergreens]

may I request a yandere hajime kashimo x fem reader or yandere gato x fem reader if you haven't read the manga yet

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧ "Arc Flash" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: drabble

Paring: Yandere! Hajime Kashimo x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: major injury, slight gore, period-typical misogyny (nothing from Hajime), cross-dressing, forced marriage

You were once one of the strongest sorcerers of your time, though your days of glory have long since passed you by.

You were twenty-five when you fought what you thought to be your last battle. Twenty-five when you sustained a life-altering injury. Twenty-five when you lost it all.

Hajime Kashimo. Your childhood friend turned sour. Endearing when you were children, his fixation on you began to verge on unnerving as you entered adolescence. By the time you had entered adulthood, it had bloomed into an obsession from which you could not escape.

“Let’s get married,” he told you on your eighteenth birthday. He wasn’t asking for your opinion. If you wanted to get out of this, you’d need a better excuse than ‘I don’t want to’.

“I can’t,” you said flatly, luggage in hand. You needed to get going before noon, and he was blocking your only exit. “It’s a tradition in my family for sorcerers to go on a pilgrimage of strength once they enter adulthood. You know this.” 

“I’m not like them,” you say. “I need to get stronger.”

“The girls usually choose to get married instead, though.”

“You don't even have a technique!” You pause. 

That's not quite true, though he has no way to know it. You never told him about it, after all.

“...Even more reason to get stronger.” 

You do have a technique, but you've only just recently discovered it. 

“You won’t need to get stronger once you’re under my protection.” 

Most sorcerers become aware of their technique around five or six…

“And what if someone attacks me while you’re away? I’m going. End of story.” 

…but it's a different story if their technique requires the use of a medium that is hard to come by.

“When you come back, then,” he says. You give a vague indication of agreement, and he lets you pass. 

Corpses aren't exactly common playthings for a child, after all.

Most pilgrimages of this type end after a maximum of three years. However, returning was never something you planned on doing. Your family scorned you for not being a meek and obedient daughter, and Hajime had chased off the only friends you had. There was nothing left for you back in the village. The pilgrimage was largely nothing more than an excuse for your escape. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean it was all for show. You were’nt lying when you said you wanted to get stronger, after all.

Within just a year of your departure, rumours of “The Masked Sorcerer” began to circulate around Japan. Despite the growing fame, you weren’t worried about being caught. After all, [First] [Last] was a female sorcerer of humble origins with no innate technique, completely different from the Masked Sorcerer, an anonymous male who possessed a mastery over corpse manipulation.

After seven years of independence, you thought you'd never see anyone from your past ever again. But perhaps the years of separation had worn on your memory; you seemed to have forgotten that Hajime was a junkie for battle.

It was a relatively simple attack from behind. So easy to dodge that you suspect it was meant more as a declaration than a genuine attempt on your life. You reach for your katana, prepared to take your assailant down in one blow, however, a familiar voice freezes you in place.

“You’re the masked sorcerer, right?” He asked. “I've been looking for you.” Hajime lunges for you, his cursed energy crackling around him. You jump to create distance, narrowly avoiding a collision. Snapping out of your momemtary stupor, this time you don’t hesitate to unsheathe your katana and swing it down in one fluid motion. At the same time, you summon a horde of skeletons to join you in battle. Skeletons don’t make for the strongest fighters, but bones are the most resistant to electric conduction. That makes them perfect for fighting against Hajime’s cursed energy. 

“So this is corpse manipulation!” Hajime exclaims, leaping out of your sword’s path. “I’ve never seen anything like it!” Your skeletons swarm him, each armed with weapons made of bone. Hajime releases a surge of electricity, but the skeletons hardly react. “Not bad.” He grins. “You even accounted for the special property of my cursed energy. However,” Hajime drops his staff and raises his arms to his chest, making a hand sign you recognise instantly. How could you forget? You were the first person he showed it off to. 

“Hey, look at this! I just learned how to make explosions!” Hajime, age twelve, told you, guiding you by the hand as he ran with you across an open field. “[First], [First], look!” 

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” you say. Hajime smiles, letting go of your hand to free up his own, he places his left palm over the back of his right hand, making a sign that resembles a butterfly’s wings. “How does it work?”

“So you take a bunch of electricity like this to create a sort of field, yeah? Then you pulse more electricity through that field, and then…” In a second, the tree standing to your left explodes as if struck by lightning, its stump catches on fire, and its branches fly out in all directions, many of them also on fire.

“Woah! That’s amazing, Hajime!” Hajime puffs out his chest with pride.

“I’ve even thought of a name for it!” He tells you. “I’m calling it—”

“Arc flash.” 

In no time at all, the force of the explosion rips your skeletons apart, leaving nothing left between you and him. You lunge forward, katana in hand. He readies his staff to block your attack, and the two of you exchange blows with lightning speed.

“What’s your name?” He asks. You don’t answer. Your voice would give you away. A current passes through your body, shocking the nerves. You lock up, and Hajime reaches to remove your mask. In a flash, you sever his arm. But the damage is done. In an effort to protect your identity, you gave it away instead.

It’s Hajime’s turn to be frozen now. He looks down at the stump of his arm as blood gushes from the cleany cut arteries, then he looks back to you. “That was…”

New Shadow Style: Simple Domain. 

By creating a small domain around your body, you’re able to automate your movements, attacking and reacting to attacks faster than you ever could on your own.

It’s not something you came up with, but, having no innate technique to rely on, it was basically your signature back home.

Shit. You messed up.

“Let’s change the rules,” he says, healing his injured hand and picking his staff back up. “If I win, you’ll promise to marry me, just like you did back then.” No point in hiding it now, you figure. You rip off your mask and throw it to the ground.

“And if I win, you’ll die where you stand.” 

“Deal.” The two of you launch towards each other in a blaze of fiery passion. You fight well, but it isn’t long before you burn through all of your skeleton reserves. Regular corpses, though stronger, are more suceptible to electric pulse, and don’t last much longer. With nothing but melee combat left at your disposal, it was only a matter of time before a well-placed electrical current sent you out of commission. 

That bastard. He targeted your spinal cord on purpose, didn’t he? 

“Partial paraplegia,” the doctor said. “It means that while you still retain some form of movement in your legs, it will be quite difficult for you to ever walk again. And even then, only for short distances.” 

You wanted to kill him. That good-for-nothing husband of yours was just about as bad as it can get. But a sorcerer’s word is their pride. So you agreed to go back to his residence as his newly disabled wife, though the humiliation and shame just might send you into an early grave.

“Well,” he says, grinning as he wheels you out of the office. “Guess you can’t run away anymore, huh?”

[markrosewater]

Maro’s Teaser for The Lost Caverns of Ixalan

Before previews for The Lost Caverns of Ixalan officially begin, I thought it would be fun to do another of my Duelist-style teasers where I give tiny hints of things to come. Note that I’m only giving you partial information.   

   First up, here are some things you can expect:   

 • a new card with the word “three times” in its rules text 

• a new land subtype  

• an aura card we’ve reprinted numerous times over twenty years appears with a new name and is one mana cheaper 

• a redone version of a popular mechanic that first premiered in 2009 

• a new mechanic representing crafting  

• a card capable of animating both artifacts and enchantments   

• a popular Tempest sorcery returns as an “enter the battlefield” effect   

• a new ability word that cares about what is in your graveyard  

• some counters in the set: bore, chorus, dread, finality, landmark, lore, net, point, stun, and time; one of which is a new deciduous counter 

• some creature tokens: 0/1 green Dinosaur Eggs, 1/1 colorless Gnomes, 1/1 white Vampire, 1/1 blue Merfolk, 1/1 black Bat, 1/1 black Fungus, 2/2 black Skeleton Pirate, 3/1 red Dinosaur, 3/2 red and white Spirit, 3/3 green Dinosaur, 4/3 black Vampire Demon, 4/4 white Angel, 4/4 white and blue Golem (note that some of these tokens have additional abilities) 

 Next, here are some rules text that will be showing up on cards:   

   • “As an additional cost to cast this spell, tap four untapped artifacts, creatures, and/or land you control.”  

• “Until end of turn, target artifact or creature becomes a Dinosaur”  

• “Then destroy all other creatures if its power is exactly 20.”  

• “When you <new keyword>, <new keyword> again for the same value.”  

• “Whenever you’re dealt combat damage, the attacking player gains control of CARDNAME and untaps it.”  

• “Equip – Pay {3} or discard a card.”  

• “Whenever you cast a permanent spell using mana produced by CARDNAME, up to one other target permanent you control becomes a copy of that spell until end of turn.”  

• “Skeletons you control get +1/+0 and have haste.”  

• “If a triggered ability of another creature you control of the chosen type triggers, it triggers an additional time.”  

• “When there are 1,000 or more time counters on CARDNAME, sacrifice it and each opponent loses 1,000 life.”  

  Here are some creature type lines from the set:  

 • Artifact Creature – Dinosaur Gnome  

• Creature – Salamander Wurm  

• Creature – Merfolk Warrior Scout  

• Legendary Creature – Bat God  

• Creature – Capybara  

• Legendary Creature – Skeleton Spirit Pirate  

• Artifact Creature – Nautilus  

• Creature – Beast Horror Spirit  

• Creature – Fungus Snail  

• Creature – Dinosaur Skeleton Horror  

  Finally, here are some names in the set:  

 • Braided Quipu  

• Calamitous Cave-In  

• Careening Mine Cart  

• Chupacabra Echo  

• Diamond Pick-Axe  

• Eaten by Piranhas  

• Out of Air  

• Pirate Hat  

• Sovereign’s Machuahuitl  

• Spelunking  

 Tune-in to see Lost Caverns of Ixalan’s debut on October 24th on twitch.tv/Magic and on our official YouTube channel. The full story drops October 20th. 

[derangedanomaly]

I’d like to request a nightmare x male skeleton reader that really likes sleeping at the foot of his bed. Idk if that sounds weird or not but like the reader slowly creeps up to his bed, curls up at the end of his bed like a cat or smth and just falls asleep instantly. And if nightmare kicks him out he’ll just try and slowly creep up again

Also if it isn’t too much, i think it would be funny if the reader tried to go unnoticed but his eye sockets glow in the dark so it’s pretty hard to creep up without being seen. Thank you!!

Weird sleep

(Nightmare x Male!reader)

He's actually so annoyed that it's hilarious. 💀

The first time it happened, he almost threw you out.

Deep inside, he's actually kinda worried about the quality of your sleep. Like, that can't be comfortable!

He kinda ignored you at the start cause of it..he thought that you'd stop if he showed no interest towards you. But oh no...it just made you even more attached.

When you creeped up to him in the dark, he almost thought you lost braincells, cause..have you forgotten that your eyes glow in the dark?? "Unbelievable 😑"

He once tried to lure you away, or even told you that he'll just sleep at his desk, but everywhere he went, you always managed to follow.. much to his dismay.

After trying everything, he even resulted in letting you sleep on the edge of his bed, while being away. (He slept on couch that day).

It didn't help, since you just moved over to where he was, and slept on the edge of the couch.

This got him confused, like...he thought that you just liked his bed till that point. But it almost seems like you actually liked him. (No waaay... You think so Nightmare? 🤨)

Started enjoying the thought of you having feelings for him. ^^

He was even more surprised when you always returned after he kicked you off.

After catching feelings for you, like...hard feelings. He decided to do a bold move on you, he grabbed you from the edge of his bed, laid you down, and cuddled you.

Safe to say you were shocked. He never did this before! You wanted to say something but it was hopeless, since he immediately fell asleep 💀

Look, Nightmare is a very tired skeleton, who's working long hours, without much break...so he can go to sleep rather quickly.

Nightmare will accidently wrap his tentacles around you during his sleep, but that's just because once he relaxes and falls asleep, his tentacles begin to have a mind of its own. And since he likes you, it's very likely that his tentacles are gonna be around you, along with his hands.

He's actually so close to you that's it's flustering for you 💀✋

He literally got so used to you sleeping with him that he can't fall asleep if you're not near.

Y'all be acting like a married couple when y'all get together. "Honey, come to bed.. I can't fall asleep without you, and I'm tired..." Simp.

[maxbruiser]

*Desperately shaking your shoulders* Where is the Viking Fic!?! I need it!! I want it!!! ;0;

uhh here’s the first draft of chapter 1 if you wanna see.

untitled Viking fic, chapter 1:

 Long ago, before civilization existed, the beasts of the earth first roamed the lands. Animals which were made and born of the flesh and blood of their mothers, then were returned to the earth when they died. 

Then came the creatures from the heavens, who were made of magic dust in the place of flesh and bone. When they died, their bodies would be turned back into dust. These beings called themselves “monsters”. Among them there was peace.

Beasts and monsters could be found in all corners of the earth and lived amongst each other in the competition of “kill or be killed”.

Another being which owned a flesh body like beasts and possessed strong magic like monsters also walked the same earth as the beasts and heavenly creatures. Where they went there was war. These were humans. They- 

“What do they look like?”

Red stopped mid-sentence and rolled his eyelights, tired of being interrupted by his little brother again for the umpteenth time tonight. He laid his gaze on the image of his younger brother Edge sitting cross legged on the sleeping mat beside him. 

Their skulls’ angular features were illuminated in the lamplight. Sharp teeth and crimson eyelights shone brightly in the darkness of the tent. The amber glow of the lamp flickered as the flame fought against the draft. 

“What’d who look like?” Red asked impatiently.

Edge scooted closer to his brother and elaborated, phalanges laced and held tightly against his ribcage in wonder. “The humans brother! What did they look like?” 

Red blinked at him and thought for a moment, trying to remember how his father told him the same old story when he was a babybones. Come to think of it, he didn’t really know what humans looked like either. Well, he supposed, when a story is passed down through several generations without being written down, details tend to get lost.

He shrugged it off. Most of them have probably died out already anyway from starting stupid wars with themselves. Humans were stupid like that. Or so he was told.

“Hairless. With flat faces. That’s how Dad described them anyway.”

“Hairless?” Edge echoed, unclasping his hands and bringing them eyelevel. He was hairless. Other monsters weren’t. Did he look like a human?

“Yeah, and wrinkly too probably.” he said with a grin, sniggering at the reaction it brought out of his little brother.

“Eeeww.” Edge wrinkled his nasal ridge at the imaginary image of a huge hairless beast shaking a spear in threat. 

“Mhmm. And not only were they ugly, but they were strong too.” Red raised his arms above his head and flexed in example.

Edge snorted at his display. “Their magic was?”

Red nodded. Lowering his hands to brush the stray fur strands from his parka trim away from his face. He continued. “A single human soul could defeat an enemy army of more than a thousand monsters.”

Edge’s brows raised in surprise before furrowing into a glare. “A thousand monsters? You’re pulling my leg bone.”

The older skeleton sighed and laid on his back. It was getting late, and he was already plenty tired from walking from one merchant post to the next. But he’d stick it out. After all, the fate of the wealth and prosperity of their homeland was riding on his shoulders.

“I aint. And If you don’t believe me, then you can paddle your way back to the island and ask Dad.”

Edge huffed, head lowering as he let his fingers trace over the stitching pattern of the mat beneath him.

“Maybe I would if we weren't already so far from home.” he shot back, unenthused.

Red sat back up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Edge. “Says the babybones who blubbered and begged me to come along.” Red teased. His little brother bristled at his words, an offended gasp sounded from him.

“I AM NOT A BABYBONES!!” Edge screeched. Red was quick to clamp a hand over his loudmouth little brother’s teeth, shushing him and holding a finger to his own with his other hand.

“SSHHhh! What are ya tryin’ ta do? Wake up the whole mainland!? Fine! You're not a babybones, just please keep it down!”

Under normal circumstances, Red couldn't give a rip about how loud and annoying his brother was, but that was back in their home on the island, not camping behind a random trading post in a paper thin tent!

A beat of silence passed before Red’s hand slipped away from Edge's mouth, narrowly avoiding being bit by him and losing a phalange.

“M’not a babybones.” Edge mumbled, fishing out a brown, tattered blanket from his pack and shaking it out over himself. He didn’t bother undressing or even taking off his scarf, knowing that as soon as he woke up he’d have to be back on his feet and hiking to the next town in search of traveling merchants. It also didn’t hurt that his day clothes added a bit of extra warmth to help ward off the biting cold of the late Autumn. Not that he needed it, he was a skeleton of course. ‘The cold goes right through him’ as his brother would say. But he liked the little bit of comfort it gave him.

He pulled the blanket over his head and rolled over, curling up as he did so. From under the blanket Red heard a quiet and muffled “finish the story”.

He settled again, this time choosing to rest on his side. Now, where was he?...

Another characteristic that separated humans from the likeness of monsters was that their souls were inverted and held a color that would predict their greatest attributes. A crimson soul represents the trait of a human’s strong determination, orange equated to bravery, yellow meant justice, green kindness, cyan patience, blue integrity, and violet was perseverance.

At some point in Red’s storytelling, Edge had rolled back over to face Red, eye sockets peeking out from under his covers.

 “They sound like they’d make great warrior allies.”

Red held back a laugh, instead letting it go as a sigh. “Yeah? Well, maybe they woulda been if they hadn't all died tryin’ ta kill all the monsters.”

“What!?”

“Yup. Humans’re evil. Strong magic and a soul trait couldn't beat us. Now they're all dead. G'night.”

Red blew out the lamp and rolled over.

“Hey!” 

Red ignored Edge and tried to get comfortable on the floor mat unsuccessfully. Its thin design allowed them to be lightweight and easy to travel with, however, being easy luggage didn't mean comfortable. Like sleeping on a napkin-

“Ow!” Red yipped, hovering his hand over where Edge just kicked him in the back.

“But how? I thought you said a single human soul could defeat an entire monster army?” Edge questioned, clearly unsatisfied with the story’s ending.

‘Fuck it, he ain’t gonna let me sleep until he gets an answer.’ Red thought bitterly.

He rolled back over and said to him;

“Cuz they were already fighting among themselves that’s why. Couldn't stand each other already. Add another war on top of that mess and it just wipes them all out.”

Red’s glowing eyes find his brother’s in the dark 

“Monsters help each other. Humans don't do that. That's why we're still here.” 

He takes Edge’s silence for the end of the conversation. And a long night.

He shrugs off his parka and lays it over the both of them, the thick fur material giving them more insulation than the old blanket ever would.

“Get some sleep. The next post is farther up than the previous ones.” 

It’s still in the tent. The sound of the wind whistling is the only noise. The brothers find solace from the cold under their coverings. They drift off to sleep

[xchronicles]

The more I think about Chakotay being stranded on Ysida for full 10 years, the less sense it makes in the context of the story.

To add a disclaimer, two of my favorite Trek episodes are Last Flight of the Protostar, parts 1 and 2. However, I truly believe that narratively, it would have worked just as well if Chakotay had been stranded for 'only' a year. In fact, it makes more sense from a storytelling perspective than having him be there for the full 10 years for no good reason.

Why you ask?

He is a character who has suffered greatly throughout his life and was already stranded in the Delta Quadrant for 7 years. Chakotay's portrayal as a person of color unfortunately falls into a common media trope where marginalized characters are often made to endure significant hardship or trauma to justify their character arc and presence in the story. Prodigy should have done better than subjecting him to a cruel 10 years of isolation for no good reason other than to make him, and I quote, 'grizzled'.

The Protostar was rendered completely useless on Ysida, making his role as its 'guardian' meaningless. If someone had found him, he was alone and essentially powerless, so there was little he could have done to prevent anyone from taking the ship.

I believe Chakotay would have been in a much worse state after 10 years of isolation (possibly even dead) compared to how the kids found him. Did the creators consider the severe effects of such prolonged isolation on a person, regardless of their strength? Chakotay had already shown vulnerability and a tendency to slip. His return to the prime universe doesn’t accurately reflect the trauma of a decade alone. His behavior and condition would be far more believable if he had been isolated for just a year.

If the math is correct, Chakotay is 66 years old. Despite the extended human lifespan in the Trek universe, aging still happens naturally. Janeway planned to retire at a younger age than Chakotay's current one, especially considering his 10 years of isolation. Given this context, it seems implausible that Chakotay would be assigned command of Voyager-A so soon after a decade of trauma, even if some time has passed. Someone stranded for so long might indeed be eager to avoid staying in one place and go back to work to honor his lost crew. However, his deep survivor’s guilt and unresolved trauma from those 10 years should have made such a quick return to command problematic. The reality is that Chakotay, at 66 and with a decade of emotional scars, wouldn’t realistically be ready to take on the captaincy without addressing his past experiences in a more meaningful way. Chakotay bounced back to his old self the moment the 'Cracked Mirror' episode happened, and his hardships and trauma are never addressed or mentioned again. It was a significant and intense arc for Chakotay, involving deep trauma that could not realistically be resolved within just two episodes. Yet, the story completely disregarded this development once it was no longer needed.

All of this could have been avoided if he had been stranded on Ysida for just a year.

If they needed Adreek to be a skeleton to set up that scene, it could have been attributed to anything on the planet affecting him after he died. The planet was hostile enough that no one would question how this happened. If we assume Adreek decided to look for a solution after a couple of months and then went missing, that would give Chakotay enough time to end up in the state he was found in by the kids—scruffy hair, a torn shirt, and all. Spending an additional 6 months alone, reflecting on what happened to his friend and dealing with such a sensitive topic, is a significant amount of time.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.05

Your eyes sting as more tears fall from them. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, then pull your knees up to your chest. You let out a shaky breath. Three weeks had passed since Beth died in Atlanta, and since then the group had tragically lost another member, Tyreese. He died when part of the group split off to see if Noah’s hometown of Shirewilt was liveable, and now your group was heading in the direction of DC.

The town was unlivable and full of nothing but rotten corpses.

Most of the group of survivors you were part of were sitting in the middle of the road, but a few of you had gone off to try and search for water and food in the woods. Since your group had hardly any left, everyone was becoming dangerously dehydrated. The group's mood was at an all-time low, and you had barely spoken in three weeks, only when necessary.

You jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Daryl says. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something.”

If you weren’t still in so much pain from grieving, you would have found the humor in Daryl offering you a handful of worms as a meal. A few years ago, you would have run away screaming if a bug even touched your skin, and now you were getting ready to eat the slimy insects without a second thought. You let him place a few worms in your hand. “Thanks.”

“Beth, never shut up about you.”

You say nothing, and you continue to eat in silence.

—

When you returned to meet up with the others along with Daryl, you found out that someone had left bottles of water further up the road with a note saying ‘from a friend’ but nobody drank out of the bottles in case they were poisoned.

You scrunch your nose up at the smell of burning food. Four hungry dogs had run out from the tree line and onto the road, but before they could attack or run away, Sasha shot all of them, which resulted in the animals being skinned and cooked as a meal. Everyone ate aside from you and Noah.

Noah seemed to be too consumed by guilt to eat, and the thought of eating your favorite animal turned your stomach.

You sit the furthest away from the group by yourself until Carl sits down beside you on a dry patch of grass. He nudges your knee with his elbow. “Hey, I got something for you.”

You look at him through tired eyes and say, “Yeah?”

Carl pulls two bracelets made of yarn out of his pocket; they were covered in dirt, but you could still make out the bracelets were a mixture of blue and purple. “I found these while looking for water in abandoned cars a few days ago; I was just waiting for the best time to give it to you. I remember you saying, you used to make friendship bracelets with your mom for the church fundraiser.”

Your eyes become glossy at the memory of sitting on your bedroom floor hours after your bedtime, making them with brightly colored threads and sparkly beads. You hold the wrist out, and Carl puts the bracelet on before tying the ends into tight knots. “They are really pretty,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Once yours is securely on, Carl holds up his wrist for you to do the same. “No matter where we end up or how alone we feel, we can just look at these and remember that we will always have someone who has our back.”

For the first time in weeks, you smile.

—

Noticing Daryl going off on his own again, you get to your feet and follow him into the woods, being careful not to step on any of the skeletons on the forest floor. Suddenly he stops walking and says, “Not now, kid, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

Beth’s death hadn’t just taken a toll on you and Maggie; everyone else in the group who knew her felt her death too, just in different ways. You walk up behind Daryl and wrap your arms around his waist. At first, you think he’s going to shove you off, but he places his hands on top of yours. Daryl was tough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fragile like the rest of you.

“When we... after the prison... I’m glad Beth was with you.”

Despite his best efforts to hold it together, a heartbroken sob passes his lips.

You stay like that until you feel the first drop of rain hitting your skin. You let go of Daryl and ran back to the highway. Empty bottles were being placed down to collect the rainwater.

A sense of relief hit you; everyone aside from Maggie and Sasha looked happy. You smile watching as Carl takes off his hat and uses it to shield Judith from the rain; she was crying because her clothes had gotten soaked.

Hearing a loud crackle in the sky, you look up and notice the oncoming storm. “Oh shit.”

Daryl points back the way and says, “I saw a barn; let’s go.”

—

Once the barn was cleared by Rick, Michonne, and Maggie, they gave the rest of you the go-ahead to go in. It didn’t take long for a small to be made and any supplies sought out.

“Hey!” Maggie comes over to you, tucking stands of damp hair behind your ear. “It’s been tough, but we’ve made it this far.”

“I know.”

She kisses the crown of your bed and says, “Try and get some sleep.”

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep. You and Carl chose to sleep on top of some hay, with Judith safely nestled between you. Most of the adults sit around the fire till late into the night until they fall asleep one by one.

Feeling a chill If you sit upright, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Everyone else was asleep aside from Judith, who was wiggling on her back. You make sure she’s tucked up close enough to her brother that she won’t roll away and get hurt.

You approach the barn doors held together by a metal chain. You weren’t surprised it was cold with the rain still lashing down. You step closer to the doors to look out and see what damage the heavy rainfall caused, and between the flashes of lighting, you see walkers coming your way.

Stumbling back, you struggled to form a sentence but managed to scream one word, “Rick!”

When the barn door starts to move, you press yourself against it. Seconds later, Daryl is beside you, then Maggie, then Rick. Soon everyone was pushing their full body weight against the doors, waiting for the storm to pass.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Caught

As promised! The next drabble in the series :D (or the next one made in between the series? You guys get it. also thanks @spotaus for the original post which gave me the idea/inspiration to start this whole thing)

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Okay the links should all work now and go to the right places.

Usual warning, unedited and unbeta'ed. We are just here to enjoy our time :D

----------

Cross groans as he leans against a wall and resists the urge to bonk his own skull against it "How can we not have foudn him!?" It has been three weeks of them searching at this point! Which means that Nightmare had been out and about for a month now!

Killer leans against the wall next to him "Chin up Cross. We don't want to make a scene and make people realise something is up."

Cross sighs but pulls away from the wall and pulls himself together. Killer is right, a sentence Cross does not use often, and they need to keep a low profile if they want to find Nightmare wihtout anyone realising it.

Dust joins their side and shakes his skull. Okay. Good news and bad news in one go. Good news, no one seems to have heard or seen anything about Nightmare. Bad news, no one has heard or seen anything about him!

Cross sighs and looks at Dust "Horror?"

Dust shrugs. he must see the unimpressed look on Cross face as Dust seems to think a moment longer "Horror is making a second round. No traces of him foudn just yet. but he wants to be sure."

Cross nods. Horror is by far the best tracker out of the four of them and if Horror can't find anything none of them will.

Killer nods as he pulls out his phone "Okay. this universe was also a burst. We don't need anything right?"

Cross shakes his skull "We got our supplies." which is nice about staying on the move, you can travel very light.

Killer nods as he considers the list he made "Okay. We are still searching for that universe. but we are near a split again. We can either go for the sciency universes or the more magical ones. I think the magical ones will lead to our end goal quicker..."

Cross thinks it over. It would be nice if they get to Dreamtale quickly to make sure Nightmare isn't there. It had been a goal until now and the only reason they had been making small jumps and going from universe to universe is because they wanted to be sure Nightmare wasn't in one of those or anyone heard of what happened.

It had been Horror who had offered that they should check everything. After his own accident and his own magic being difficult he had lost some of his more natural abilities. If Nightmare lost his own magical powers he may also lose his ability to travel through the mulitverse. meaning he could get stranded somewhere.

So they were making tiny jumps to neighbouring universes for now. and checking each one that they stopped it. The job they had with Nightmare is actually very helpful for this and trained them as at this point they are able to search about three universes a day.

They know how each universe is suposed to feel and are able to spot key differences or elements that don't belong thanks to all the exposure they have had. Meaning they should in theory be able to spot Nightmare as soon as they see him. or the traces of him.

Cross is still worried. They all already agreed Nightmare would most likely go back to the way he was before. the tiny skeleton from the storybook. But the image of the babybones with his skull smashed open keeps haunting cross. What if that wound returns as well? Would that mean that Ngihtmare is just somewhere heavily injuried with no help? could that have meant that nightmare just... died?

When Cross first asked Killer about it he had just huffed. said that boss is tougher than they can even imagine. and that if he had already died that Killer doubts the castle or the universe it had been in would have still been as stable as it had been when they visited.

Which, Cross knows Killer is right. Cross had seen what happens to a universe that grows too instable and gets destroyed. He had lived in it.

Still. the worry remains and-

"Nothing." Horror joins them again "where too next?"

Killer looks over at Horror "We are at another branch. Science or magic."

Horror frowns as Dust finally speaks again "Both can be promising or worrying. Both have ways of knowing about the multiverse and them..."

Horror nods "Meaning, which way do we think Nightmare would pick if he had to make small jumps. and which could he get stuck in if a large jump misfired?"

Killer frowns as he looks back at his phone and the copy of the general multiverse map he made. Cross looks over his shoulder and frowns with him. Cross can see what makes Killer hesitant to pick either. both paths look promising.

Dust tilts his skull "Which universes are in both paths? And which is saver for a babybones."

Cross turns to Dust and knows so are Killer and Horror.

Dust rolls his eye lights "We know who he is. He knows that. The multiverse at large? Does not. their story isnt known. either way. If nightmare remembers everything and he is going where we think he is going. He will pick the path off least resistence as he knows he is..." a glance around before softer "fragile. if he does not remember. He will take the path of least resistence because trauma and past injuries. So. Which is safer for a babybones?"

Killer blinks before looking back at his list and removing universes. Most Fell universes go straight out. so fo the Mafia stuff. Blaster AUs are next to go. any Genocide endings are out as well and Killer reconsiders the map.

Killer frowns "There is no clear path anymore. a lot of zigzagging. But! I think i see a path which could be seen as safe." he snorts and wiggles his eyebrows, how he does it Cross never figured out, "We can go by a Lustverse."

Dust looks wholly unimpressed and Horror looks disapproving "Focus. Adn are you sure?"

Killer snorts but nods "Yeah. Lustverse is originally build on having a children wish and that not working correctly or something. I don't remember they details but if they see a child they will 100% protect him." he nods and looks at Cross "Knife ready?"

Cross nods as he pulls out his knife "Where to?"

Killer joins his side "We are going to a pacifist upper tale thing. just aim east and slice and it should connect." Cross does as told and the portal fuzzes for a bit before a clear rift opens. On the other side green grass and sunshine.

Cross waits until the other three entered before looking around them quickly. No one near. good. and he goes in.

-----

Nightmare is not a fan of this.

The market is too open and there are too many people.

Good side about it is though... a lot of them will give you free samples and food if you are a kid.

Nightmare walks around another stand and stops by one with all kinds of fruit. it is a lot harder to look over the edge and see all of it but he makes it work. He still hasn't eaten today and really should.

He can't quite remember how much food he needs and when. For now he just gets food whenever he gets really hungry. Just a tiny snack to keep him going. He had been having meals every day or other day. that is good right?

Sure he feels hungry a lot but that is probably normal. If he ate each time he got hungry he would be eating throughout the day and that just seems like a lot.

Nightmare considers the food and how much gold he still has. He had been lucky so far and hadn't been moving to a new universe yet. He had eben here for three days now instead of his normal two.

"Oh hello again friend!"

Nightmare flinches and has to stop himself from ducking away. He looks up and sees the man behind the stall smiling. "... hello..."

The man grins "Good to see you back again little friend. we had been worried when no one spotted you. Would you like to help me test some of the fruits? I can only sell the best stuff of course!"

Nightmare... knows he is just trying to ease him into accepting it. even though he knows it... it works. his soul swells a bit at the idea of helping and being seen as helpful. Nightmare isn't sure why. Ever since he finished shrinking it has become hard to understand himself.

He looks to the side but nods "okay..."

the man nods and considers the fruit "well. I personally think the grapes may be a bit off." he grabs a cluster of grapes and holds it out.

Nightmare holds his own hands under it and the man releases the grapes, never touching him. which is probably because Nightmare can't stop flinching and backing away when people raise their hands or voices.

Nightmare picks one off and eats it. it tastes so good! Sweet and refreshing. nightmare takes his time to eat the tiny treat before looking back at him "It is good." he holds the grapes back out to give back.

The man nods as he taps his chin "that is good to hear. you mind finishing those all and come back if any of them tasted off? We need a good sample size of the tastetesting." he says it as he calmly places a box full of grape clusters ready for sale.

Ngihtmare immediantly pulls the grape close again and nods "Sure..." he doesn't promise it. He isn't an idiot to make promises to strangers. but this man has never been difficult about him having to pay much more than a taste test. Nightmare figures it is something else pity he just pities him but Nightmare just.. can't focus as easily on those things anymore. it is harder too focus on certain stuff and if he tries to force himself to focus or think certain ways it just causes his skull to ache.

So he tries to stay in the now and reacts and thinks only to what happens or are direct threats.

He walks through the market as he eats his grapes. one by one. enjoying each one.

Nightmare is very disappointed when the cluster is all gone and takes a moment to find a trashcan to throw it away. some woman coo and mutter about such a good mannered child and Nightmare feels himself blush and feels the need to hide. it isn't that big of a deal! H just threw soemthing away! be good for nature and stuff and don't throw it just on the ground!

Nightmare quickly leaves the area and starts to make his way back to where he left his stuff. He needs to relax. maybe he can read his book for a moment and nap.

He walks between people and makes sure to not touch anyone. letting his eye lights look around the crowd.

Then he freezes.

Was that white?

probably not right?

Nightmare still strains his eye lights to search the area he saw it. Then he spots him.

And Nightmare cna see that Cross spotted him at exactly the same time.

Neither of them look away from each other for a moment. Nightmare feels his soul pick up the pace as the need to run rises by the second. It is fine. It is fine! Cross... cross probably doesn't even realise he was here! It is just a coincidence.

Cross turns his skull a tiny bit but his eye lights don't break eye contact. Cross is saying something to someone and Nightmare breaks the eye contact to glace.

That is Killer.

Ngihtmare doesn't think as he turns and runs right into the crowd.

"Wait!"

Yup! That is Cross! Nightmar keeps running.

He goes between people and dives under stalls as he uses the crowd for cover. he makes a turn and glances back only to see Cross a lot closer.

Shit.

He makes another sharp turn and spots an possible escape. He rushes into an alleyway and dives behind a dumpster and stays very quiet.

it only takes a few seconds before he hears running steps. he sees a flash of white between the opening of the dumpster and the wall.

the footsteps don't pause and Cross keeps running.

It takes a while but eventually it goes quiet again.

Nightmare waits for a while longer before wiggling his way out of the enclosed space. he checks the area as he jumps out and goes back into the market. He pulls the hood of the hoody back on and puts his hands into his pockets.

He can't hide the skeleton feet as he isn't wearing socks or shoes but this will have to do for now.

He is such an idiot! He should have kept moving instead of staying in the same universe for so long! Nightmare nods to himself. He will go to his little hidey place. grab his things. and make a jump.

He cuts through the market and finds the building with the empty storage he had taken over. he climbs in through the window and huffs as he lands hard in his little hidey place.

Nightmare leans against the wall and lets out a breath in relieve. okay. he is fine. he is fine. he is-

"Ah!" he gets picked up and is suddenly held back against a much larger form.

"Finally. we have been looking everywhere."

Nightmare freezes because that is Dust. Then he starts to struggle and fight more to be let go.

---------

Dust runs over the roof tops as he easily keeps up with the small form in the market. Cross on the ground not far behind.

To say they are relieved would be an understatement. They had actually found boss.

How is he so tiny? Are all six year olds that tiny? Or is he just that tiny because of... well everything?

Dust isn't sure.

When Cross had frozen they had all turned to him to see what had been wrong. He had motioned that he had found Nightmare. Only for Nightmare to start running.

Which, rude. What the hell Nightmare?

Killer had been quick to step up to the job or right hand and gave them orders. Cross would follow on foot. Dust would go over the rooftops to make sure we didn't lose him. Killer nad Horror would go around the market and go to the other end to corner him if necessary.

Dust watches Nightmare dive into an alleyway and hide. Cross follows the path but once he can't spot Nightmare he keeps running right back out. only a moment later Nightmare comes out of hiding and goes back the way he came.

Dust follows him from the rooftops. making sure to stay quiet as he does so. He does take a moment to take his phone out and text the others that he still has eyes on Nightmare and is following him.

This does imply that Nightmare doesn't remember him. Why else would he freak out at the sight of Cross? Cross of all skeletons?

But if Nightmare doesn't have his memories and only remembers Dream as fellow skeleton... maybe that could explain why he freaked out?

Or it is because all of you betrayed him and he knows you can't be trusted the voice of papyrus is not welcome at the moment.

Dust glares as he keeps following Nightmare "shut up. you don't know shit."

he laughs oh? Cursing already? You will infect your terrible manners unto the tiny babybones. unless of course you just do what you should and kill him.

Dust slowly moves to the next roof "I already told you. I am not killing him."

A huff Then what will you do?! He is useless like this! Offers nothing!

Dust hisses his own answer back "He is a child. He doesn't have to offer anything."

a laugh so now he is a child? While before he was just your weakened boss? Which is is sans?

Dust ignores the ghost as he watches Nightmare disappear into a building. Dust is quick to silently follow him. Nightmare pants as he leans against the wall under the window that Dust is perched on. Dust scans the room before anything else. It is empty and looks old. in the corner he spots a backpack that looks a lot like one of Cross's anime backpacks. it lays on a thin blanket of some kind. otherwise the room is filled with boxes and other junk.

Nightmare looks calm and Dust acts quickly as he scoops Nightmare up as he lands inside the room.

Dust lets out a breath as tension leaves his body "Finally. we have been looking everywhere." They found him. they did it.

Nightmare is frozen for a moment before he starts to wiggle and struggle "let me go!"

Oh fuck that voice is so much higher than before. also shit Ngihtmare is slippery!

Dust groans as he tries to tighten his hold on the small skeleton but he is unsure how to do this without hurting the other. he is so much tinier than he thought he would be. Not to forget most likely much much more fragile. How does he hold Nightmare like this?!

Dust tries to change his handhold but alost drops Ngihtmare "Calm down Nightmare. it is just me." maybe he just didn't recognise him? please remember him.

more laughter What now you are scared he forgot you? Like he ever mattered to you! Hah!

Dust wants to snap at the voice but stops himself. If nightmare really doesn't know who they are than talking out loud to something no one else hears is not the right way to introduce himself.

Nightmare does not stop struggling and Dust keeps having to change his hold on the other.

In the end Dust decides to just sit down under the window and roll up around the tiny babybones- Nightmare. around nightmare. He ahs to remind himself it is Nightmare.

But... nightmare is a babybones now. or was always a babybones.

... mental and moral problem for later with how he will deal with that.

At least Nightmare stopped struggling. instead jjust panting harshly in his hold. No doubt tired from first trying to escape them and then struggling to be freed.

Dust just hugs the other tighter. do not relax his hold and give the other a chance to escape.

He is so tiny! so much lighter than Dust expected him to be. Also thinner as most of his form seems to be just the hoody. Wait that is his old hoody.

Dust isn't sure how to react to this. How to react to the feeling of having this tiny babybones against and with him.

Well good job. you have captured a babybones. are you going to kill him like you killed me? remembering how i was as babyboned never stopped you from killing me after all.

Dust feels his hold tighten on Nightmare. No. he is not going to hurt nightmare. Dust can be a good... a good.. henchman. and henchman help their boss. even if their boss is now tiny and easy to hold and so so thin and feels warm against them and Dust can feel the tiny fragile soul slowly calm down as they are close enough that Dust can feel it pulse and beat in the other.

Dust sighs as he struggles to find words "That is better." he makes sure one of his arms has a tight hold on Ngihtmare before he grabs his phone. He opens the group chat and types a message 'I got him. Just have to get back to you guys. See you outside of town, south side.' and he sends it. only a moment before he gets celebratory emojis back for the news.

Dust puts the phone away and stands "Time to go." he turns to the window.

Nightmare immediantly starts to struggle "no! My stuff!"

Dust frowns down before looking back. It shouldn't matter. They can just grab stuff he wants from other universes and they did that before... then again. If anyone understands how you can unreasonably attached to objects it is Dust, he still has Papyrus' scarf after all.

Dust nods and walks over to the corner of things. He holds one arm around Nightmare, holding him against his shoulder and partly over it. as he packes the stuff laying around with his other hand.

Thin blanket, backpack just holds a book, a lighter, a pocketknife and some gold. Not a lot but if this is all NIghtmare had to make his way through the multiverse for the last month it is all the more impressive.

Dust can't help but ask "Why not take more things?" he finishes packing and puts the backpack on Ngihtmare's back before taking a tight hold on him again as he easily lifts him.

Nightmare grumbles but mutters and answer "Too heavy... travel light and find what you need."

Dust freezes. He hadn't expected an answer. but if... if Ngihtmare answered then... "Ready... to meet up with the others?"

Ngihtmare freezes and wiggles for a moment before going lax with a sigh "you four met back up?"

Dust feels his soul relax. He remembers them. He rememebrs them! Oh this makes everything so much better!

Dust grins as he checks outside the window "Of course." of course they would emet back up to find him. obviously. Now. To get to the tohers and get the hell out of here.

They are going to have to figure out how to manage this child after all.

----

They had aqcuired the child! now they just need to figure out how to be parents lmao. I am sure they will be fine :) They only lightly traumatized Nightmare here by stalking him, hunting him, intruding on his safe space, and forcefully moving him :D

They are fine you all :D

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This one was fun to write! so mcuh fun! i love getting them all to interact and do things :D

[eudaimonia83]

Everyone who was requesting Feral Elain, here you go. 😅 Don’t judge me too harshly on this, bc it’s an upcoming chapter of a long-form fic and hasn’t undergone any real editing. There are also some references that might be unclear, as this chapter is a ways down the line. But if you have read my fic The Gift (on AO3) you have most of the background info.

Basic details: Lucien has just escaped from being held prisoner under the Hewn City with his powers suppressed. He was jailed for allowing Elain to escape…which she has just discovered. And she is, naturally, deeply unhappy about this. 😈

Tag as requested: @lorcandidlucienwill @mr-agent-mulder

——————————

His wrists. What had happened to his wrists?

She stared numbly at the puckered, darkened skin that bracketed his hands, scabbing over as his healing finally began to return…his tender, beautiful hands that touched her with such gentleness, such affection…

“What is that?” She couldn’t keep a tremor out of her voice. Steady, steady. Be calm. She knew this feeling now; the sick coiling in her veins, around her heart, rustling through her brain.

He glanced down, tearing his eyes from her face with a physical wrench. “It’s only a scar. I’ve got plenty of them, remember?” He turned his hands over and squeezed hers, so gently, so kindly.

A scar. But from what…?

“What kind of scar?” Her voice only barely escaped past the lump in her throat; she could barely hear it over this singing, this thrumming in her blood. It was hot and deadly cold. The strength of anger, with the ice of…revenge. Leaves curled around her ears, tendrils winding through her hair.

He looked up at her again. “Please, Blossom. Don’t be angry with me. I tried to get away, to get back to you. But I couldn’t.”

He did not understand, how did he not understand? He thought she was angry with him…

She swallowed hard, then brought one of his hands up to her face and dragged her lips over his wrist, trying to mimic the gentleness he’d shown her that night, that sweet night that was both their first and last, before he’d sent her away and the long hand of darkness had reached out to grasp him and hold him…hold him…

The True Sight bubbled up inside her like a hot spring, filling her eyes and tearing her heart to pieces. Lucien, her Lucien, limp on the stone floor of a cell, drenched in a sticky, purulent substance. No light to see by. No warmth to envelop him. No comfort, from her or anyone else. Lost in the cold, and the dark. Why did he not summon his fire, that spirit that breathed inside him like coals, that had kept him alive and protected his kind heart through so much before this? She didn’t know if she said it aloud, but she screamed to that limp body on the floor, stay alive. Stay alive, no matter what occurs. Bring your flame to bear, and I will avenge you, I swear it…

But he just lay there, breaths shallow and broken, his hands…his wrists…bound to the wall…

She leapt up, the vision melting like smoke, only to see his wide eyes before her.

“They bound you?” Her voice did not sound like hers. What writhed underneath it?

He nodded, pushing himself up on the cot to a sitting position. “I knew they would. It was only a matter of how.”

“How, then?” She squeezed her fist at her side. The earth would fill their mouths and choke their cries, drag them into its depths and bind their very skeletons to the rocks that made its own bones…

He hung his head. “I was shackled, with Hybernian stone, I think. They put faebane on me too, before the chains. Not as I knew it, either — a sort of paste. Perhaps it concentrates its effects that way. I only recognized its scent.”

“So you couldn’t break out.” Or use his fire to stay warm.

“I was more valuable as their prisoner,” he said, his voice as hollow as a pebble skittering down into a well. “They did not want to kill me. If they did, they would have done it long ago, before even making me their emissary. They were more interested in what I could tell them. Or do for them. Or who I could bring them. They wanted you most of all.” He smiled. “I knew that. So it was worth it to have you escape somewhere I didn’t know, so no matter what they did to me, you were out of their reach.”

She nodded, slow and steady. Coiling like a fist within her, the grinding of the rocks that silted into soil and reached towards the sun with vines and leaves and trees.

Find them. Punish them.

She went to the window, where the sun had grown bright as they spoke. It spilled over her. She felt her skin tingle, the warmth of the sun stoking the fire inside her.

“It will heal,” he said, husky and sad. “It will scar, but it will heal eventually.”

She had to get out, before this white-hot anger striated with cold revenge burst out of her and harmed him, he who she so wished to protect it was like shielding her own heart. She turned back to him and knelt, swiftly, next to the cot. He wound his hand into her hair, cupping her cheek, her jaw. She felt the strands of her hair catch against the grit of the scab on his wrist. Her heart raced, stuttering with affection and sorrow and the dark pulse of vengeance.

“It will heal,” he repeated. “I will heal.”

“You can only heal if you’ve been hurt,” she murmured. “And that’s what I don’t want to happen any more.”

He smiled, and kissed her hairline, so softly that she ached with it, in the pit of her belly and the cleft beneath her ribs that held her heart, squeezing it between her lungs with each agonizing breath.

She helped him to lie back, tucking the sheepskin over him, and with a wave of her hand, leaves clustered over the window to filter the sunlight. It would be gentle, would carry the scent of jasmine to soothe him as he slept. As his skin knit back together.

Pay. They would pay, and pay again, and beg forgiveness.

She would make sure of it.

———————————

He had fallen asleep at last, heat beating out of him as the fever raged. He had spoken, fretful and miserable, in his sleep, wept with pleas of stop, take me, kill me instead and Tam, help me Tam, I can’t see, it hurts. She could do nothing but lay a cool cloth on his brow. She dared not touch him at those times; knew that if she did, she would be immersed in his fever dreams, or worse, steal his past from him with her imperfect visions of what had happened. Better to let him awaken, to ask him later and let him tell her himself. Her sister might not know the difference, would sweep in with daemati might and root around with dirty fingers in a mind that wasn’t her own, but she would not. She would be different.

Her sister.

Feyre was still here. As soon as it occurred to her, the truth of it squeezed her heart with cold tendrils.

She stood up, skirts whispering, and slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her so softly that the latch didn’t even click.

The hallway yawned into shadow ahead of her. It was twilight, just after the dinner hour, and she knew where Feyre would be: eating with Helion and the attachés, perhaps in the Solarium, or the conservatory. Her steps matched the pace of her heart as she sped along the white marble floor, gleaming with gold and rosy specks of quartz. She did not see the darkness. It was hard to appreciate it when her vision was red at the edges and star-bright with rage.

The long night is ending. They will wake from the dream and find it rebuilt.

Perhaps it was time for a wake-up call, then.

She felt the stones begin to tremble beneath her as she walked, a low rumble from deep in the earth. She cast her eyes down and saw the curls of vines swimming around her arms, tangling in eager threads, tiny leaves unfurling, stained black with the ash of her anger.

She heard the dinner conversation as a merry buzz before she even saw the spill of light onto the floor…and by that time, there was a dull roar in her ears, her arms were corded with thorns and leaves, and death was coming to all, to all who had failed him and starved him and imprisoned him. She was vengeance, and he was her mate, and they were going to pay.

She burst into the lamplight like the heat from an opened oven door. All the faces turned to her, smiles draining from their lips like waves receding on the beach.

There was barely a moment to register the screams that bounced off the walls before the table heaved and cracked as six inch thorns spiked through it from beneath. Half of it sagged down; the other half toppled with a deafening crash, and through the middle burst the vines, reaching up to seize the chandelier and twist, pulling it from the ceiling with a screech of metal and timber. The candles sputtered against the ruined food. Her eyes were on her sister, dressed in glimmering silver and blue, eyes wide with horror and…what was that, underneath the surprise? Could it be fear?

Good, Elain thought with satisfaction as she leapt over the rubble, her vines sweeping everything away into chaos, coming up behind her in massive gnarled hands scaled with bark and stippled with thorns. She regarded Feyre for a moment. As her sister’s eyes narrowed and went dark, and the daemati talons scratched at her mind, she swung one of her arms in a massive arc. The vines followed it in a deadly sweep, choking with the scent of petrichor and leaves. Feyre was thrown against the wall of the room in one movement, immobilized, her head dragged backward as the vines grasped her hair, her pale throat exposed, arms akimbo and sealed to the wall. Elain let out a wild cry and leapt forward, her fingers closing around her sister’s neck and squeezing with all her strength.

Feyre struggled in silence, her air cut off — but then went deadly still. Her face flushed scarlet. The vines had pushed thorns against both the arteries in her neck, had pierced the skin under her left breast. If she moved it would stab her. Elain hissed into her face, aware that she looked completely unhinged, “You bound him.”

Feyre shook her head, as much as she was able. Elain released her throat and slapped her with all her strength across the face. “You drenched him in faebane and bound him with stone, and what, you thought I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t strip the skin off your bones?” She matched word to deed, scoring her nails along Feyre’s arm.

Tears streamed from Feyre’s eyes and scratches bloomed across her cheek, carved there by the thorns that had turned Elain’s fingers into claws. “I didn’t,” she rasped. “I didn’t do that to him.”

A second slap cracked across her face and this time the outline of Elain’s hand remained, bright red. “Your demon mate, then. He would say the same, wouldn’t he, if he was here? I didn’t do it, I knew nothing of it. Bullshit.” The curse tasted sour in her mouth, and she spat into the tangle of vines that had immobilized the other dinner guests into helpless writhing heaps on the floor. Only Helion was still upright, wrestling against the grip of the leaves that had encircled his legs and arms. She let him be. Her quarrel was not with him. “The pair of you are the same, always the same. Using him —using us — for your own —“ the vines tightened around Feyre’s wrists and ankles and wrenched a scream from between her clenched teeth “—wretched—“ the thorn pushed against the bottom of her chin “—ends. There were others in that prison. How many more did you do this to, besides him? Besides my mate?” Red spots swam in her vision. She wanted to kill her. “You turned a blind eye.”

“You turned a blind eye to me…” gasped Feyre, then let out a groan of frustration as the thorn pushed harder against her chin, forcing her jaw closed.

“Talk about yourself for one more moment and you’ll never talk again,” Elain whispered into her sister’s ear. A tremor went through Feyre, and she was still. Elain savored the victory for a moment. It was terrifying, nauseating to be this angry…it made her feel like an animal. It was this part of being Fae that had called to her like a dark song, that coursed through her veins like electricity, like the storms she’d watched batter the Eastern Channel: but to a small part of her, caught in the swirl of adrenaline and anger, it felt right. To defend Lucien when he couldn’t defend himself. When he was sick and raving with fever, when her sister’s court had painted him with poison and thrown him in prison, to suffer in darkness.

Human Elain would not have done this.

But she was Human Elain no longer.

Why be a girl, when you could be a terror? the voice of the void whispered to her.

So she seized her sister‘s head in both her hands, and let the True Sight boil into them both, and felt Feyre scream and scream as she showed her everything she had ever feared.

Mother of mercy, how good it felt to punish.