#he probably tore his antenna off by himself

[averagemorrowindenjoyer]

Gary

[hyperfanfictions]

So since AO3 is still down for me and won't be back until 11:45 PM..

I'm posting the marware fic here! I may as well repurpose this blog again for general fics anyway

Fic under cut(its marware)

Mario hummed happily as he strolled through the forest leading to Puzzles’ studio, humming his iconic theme song and, when that one was finished, the Puzzlevision theme song. He was just as happy as ever; He had finally recovered from some awful injuries and was free to do what he liked without concern! And of course, he was going to celebrate by kissing his TV headed boyfriend. 

As he approached the studio and raised his hand to knock on the door, Puzzles opened the door and lifted him up excitedly, spinning around with the Italian in his arms as he laughed. Mario laughed along with him despite being confused. 

When they finally stopped spinning, Puzzles placed Mario back onto the ground and held out a letter to the Italian, grinning excitedly. Mario noticed that the letter’s wax seal resembled the one they saw on a gala invitation a few months back. “Amore, what's this?” He asked, still smiling. Puzzles waved his hands excitedly, his screen flickering as his smile grew wider. Mario, realizing he probably wasn't going to get an answer, took the letter and tore it open, pulling out a neatly written invitation.

“Dear Mr. Puzzles, the Truffle Kingdom formally invites you to the coronation party of the newly appointed Queen Alyssa. You and your potential consort will be esteemed guests of her majesty and will be greeted formally by her.” The letter continued to list activities and options in the buffet, to which Mario closed the paper and looked up at Puzzles in shock. “Another ball?”

“We're esteemed guests! Isn't that amazing?!” Puzzles squealed, standing up and waving his hands excitedly. His antennae vibrated rapidly with his excitement, and Mario smiled. “It is awesome! I wonder if the others were invited too...” Mario looked out the forest curiously, and Puzzles quickly lifted him into his arms bridal-style. Mario blinked as his face turned as red as his sweater. “Uh-”

“Let's go find out!” With that, Puzzles burst running, the flustered Italian in his arms. 

~

SMG4 looked over the invitation Meggy handed him with intrigue. The wax seal resembled the one on the previous invitation, as well as the handwriting being just as neat as before. SMG3 had already begun reading Tari’s invite, and a wide grin was spreading across his face. “You hear that, Four? We’re esteemed guests.”

“So I've heard.” Four replied, opening the invite to read it himself. Before he could actually cut the paper, however, Puzzles kicked open the door to the castle, carrying a very red Mario in his arms like a bride. Meggy and Three immediately burst into laughter at the sight of a stupidly grinning adware and flustered Italian, as if they swapped personalities. Tari clasped her hands together and awed, while Four simply scowled and rolled his eyes as he opened the invitation. 

Puzzles giddily walked into the castle and set Mario down, to which the Italian breathed a sigh of relief. Meggy snickered. “Did he carry you all the way here?”

“Yes. He also ran here, so that didn't help, heh.” Mario chuckled as he fixed himself, standing up straight as he brushed off his overalls. “Did you guys get an invitation too?” He asked, turning towards Meggy as he fixed his hair. Meggy nodded and pointed to Tari and Puzzles, who were bouncing up and down in excitement. “Tari and Four got theirs earlier today, and we only just opened them. Did Puzzles get his?”

“Yep! Barely got a chance to knock on the door when he burst out and spun me around, hah!” Mario laughed, and Meggy chuckled. Four rolled his eyes and turned towards Three, who was watching Tari and Puzzles plan out outfits. “What’s up, dude?” He asked as Four approached him. Four held up the invitation. “3 days doesn’t seem like much time to prepare for a ball, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s plenty. We’ve got two days to shop for clothes, and after that, 12 hours max to do makeup!”

“... Are you going to wear makeup to the ball?” Four asked, blinking in confusion. Three gestured to his eyes, which had a faint purple eyeshadow on the lid. “I wear makeup all the time dude. It’s just not noticeable most of the time. I am so stepping it up for this dance.” Three laughed triumphantly while Four sighed, folding the invitation and setting it on the counter. Puzzles crouched to the ground to Tari’s level as Tari waved her hands excitedly. “Okay okay okay! So- Outfit ideas. Go.”

“I’m thinking a navy blue suit?”

“Ooh, great! It would be nice to add some color to your grayscale ass, no offense.”

“None taken! Will you wear the same dress as last time?”

“Probably not, it’s weird to wear the same dress twice. I did really like those veiled sleeves though, even if they kept getting caught in the crooks of my arm.” Tari giggled as she flapped her hands up and down in excitement, and Puzzles soon joined her, the expression on his screen grinning. Mario watched with a lovestruck gaze, his hand to his cheek as he smiled at the two. Meggy elbowed him as she snickered. “You looove him~” She teased, and Mario looked at her strangely. “We’ve been dating for 6 months, most of that time being behind y’alls backs.”

“I know, heheheh.” Meggy giggled, and Mario rolled his eyes with a smile.

Suddenly, Tari and Puzzles approached the two with wide grins, Four and Three being dragged behind them. Four’s expression was sour while Three’s was grinning. Mario and Meggy looked up at them in confusion. Tari grabbed Meggy’s arm and giggled. “We’re going shopping!”

“Wuh-”

Mario felt himself be lifted and slung over the adware’s shoulder, and Puzzles began to hum his theme song as he walked out the door, dragging behind him a wheezing Three. Tari soon followed after them, dragging Meggy and Four with her.

~

The Kohls was a messy place to buy suits, but it was cheap.

Four and Three browsed the vests as they talked, while Puzzles gave advice to Tari on dresses she found nice. Mario had to be held back by Meggy as they browsed the dress shirts. As Tari pushed aside a flowery sundress, her gaze locked onto a golden yellow dress with scattered sequins, the sleeves veiled and the skirt poofy and long. Tari snatched the dress from the hanger and held it before her, pressing it to her chest to allow Puzzles to see it. “Wow! What a gorgeous dress.”

“And it's got the sleeves I like! Ain't that neat?” Tari smiled, her expression beaming like sunlight. Puzzles smiled and lifted the cloth of the skirt, feeling the sequins and the petticoat underneath. “Yellow is certainly an odd color to go with, but if it makes you happy...”

“Yes! Yes, it does!”

“Okay, okay!” Puzzles grabbed her shoulders and turned her around as he stood up, his screen flickering as he switched to a calm expression. “Why don't you go show Meggy your choice. I'll see if I can help Four and Three out.”

“Okay! Ha ha!” Tari burst running through the aisle as she ran towards Meggy and Mario, flaunting the dress she chose. Puzzles smiled and walked over to Three and Four, who were arguing over colors.

“I'm telling you, wearing any color besides blue would work on you!” Three proposed, holding up a yellow vest. Four scoffed. “I'm not against that idea, but fucking yellow?!”

“If you're looking for a color then may I propose mahogany instead?” Puzzles reached between the two and pulled out a deep red vest instead. Four narrowed his eyes to the idea, but after staring at the vest for a moment, he took the vest and held it onto his body. Three grinned and snapped his fingers. “See! You look good when it isn't blue.”

“Fuck you.” Four glared at the guardian in front of him before looking at Puzzles. “Why aren't you shopping for something, Mr. Puzzles?”

“I've already got a suit in my studio, heh...” Puzzles fiddled with the knobs on his head as a sweet smile filled his screen. Four scoffed and turned towards the vests again before pulling out a magenta vest. “Well if I'm wearing red, then you're going to wear pink.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Actually, I feel green would better fit with your purple aesthetic, SMG3. They are complimentary colors!”

“You did not just say ‘aesthetic’ unironically.” Three teased, and Puzzles rolled his eyes. “I say many words unironically, SMG3.”

“Yeah, but it's still fucking funny.” Three replied, pulling a green vest from the selection. Puzzles chuckled, and Four glared at him. He wasn't used to seeing Three and Puzzles get along like this when they were enemies before. He still didn't like Puzzles hanging around them. 

“Puzzles! Mario found something!”

“Huh?”

Puzzles and the guardians turned around to see Meggy showing off a flustered, grinning Italian holding a light orange suit to his body, the lapel decorated with blue and gold sequins. A heartbeat line spread across Puzzles’ screen as he processed a mental image of Mario in that suit, and Three raised his thumbs. “Awesome choice.”

“Huh. Never thought I'd have the image of Mario in a suit in my head.” Four mumbled, slinging the mahogany vest over his arm. Puzzles walked to his lover and cupped his hands around the Italian's face, and Mario chuckled and pushed him away. “Quit it, we're in public!”

“Yeah, save it for the bed!” Meggy teased, and Tari appeared behind her and smacked her in the head. “Be appropriate!”

“Yeah, Megs. This is a dance, not a strip club.” Three responded, earning a glare from Tari and Puzzles while Four just stared at him in disgust. Meggy and Mario burst into hysterical wheezes as Puzzles stood up, groaning. “Meggy, have you at least found a dress?”

“Oh yeah! I found a cool red dress with a gold trim, it looks awesome.”

“Great, grab it so that we can leave.” Puzzles turned around and left the aisle, prompting the others to follow him, with Four noticeably behind.

~

The days passed without trouble, or at least much of it. Puzzles proved to be much help for the group by helping with their outfits and makeup on the day of the gala, and when the skirt of Tari’s dress tore accidentally, he was quick to fix it up. 

Tari heaved a sigh of relief as Puzzles released her skirt. “Thank you so much, Puzzles. We don't give you enough credit for how much you've helped us.”

“It's no problem!” Puzzles replied, placing the small kit of supplies he had on the kitchen counter. Three was sipping a cup of coffee as he tugged at his best, admiring his reflection in the shiny fridge. Meggy raised an eyebrow. “Enjoying yourself, emo?” Three glared at her as he set down his mug. “I'll let you know that I look fucking awesome, Meggy.” Meggy laughed at this response, and Puzzles rolled his eyes. Four entered the kitchen in his green vest and dark trousers, still wearing the brown boots he usually wears. Three stared at him skeptically. “Dude, you’re still wearing those? Put some damn dress shoes on.”

“I forgot to buy some while we were out, SMG3!” Four growled, and Meggy laughed. Four sighed as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, the back of his gloves displaying a Roman 4 similarly to how Three’s had a Roman 3. “Just... Where’s Mario? Is he still upstairs getting ready?”

“I think he is...” Tari replied, fiddling with her hair that Puzzles had curled for her. Puzzles stepped forward slowly. “I could see if he’s okay?”

“Not in my castle.” Four snapped, glaring at Puzzles angrily. Three quickly stepped forward and pushed Four back while Puzzles recoiled, his hands raised in surrender. “Back off, Four! He was just offering to check on Mario.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t want him doing anything weird! We have to leave soon!”

“Get your head out of the gutter, Four.” Meggy remarked snarkily, and Tari giggled. Four glared at the both of them when the group heard footsteps and humming coming from the stairs, and when they all turned around, they saw Mario in his orange suit, a bright white tie around his neck turned off kilter and a variety of pins and buttons lining the lapel with the sequins. His dark trousers were wrinkled to oblivion at his boots, and he wore his iconic red cap like before, but this time, his hair wasn’t frazzled and his mustache wasn’t a mess of hairs under his nose. He put on a stupid grin and Puzzles hummed, brushing past Three and Four to crouch to Mario’s level and kiss his forehead, the electricity tickling his skin. Four rolled his eyes.

“You look amazing, hun.” Puzzles said softly, and Mario began to fix his tie. Puzzles’ screen flickered. “What are you-”

“You’re still terrible at tying a tie. You didn’t bother to learn in the past 3 days?”

Puzzles laughed. Tari and Meggy awed at the couple while Three smiled, meanwhile Four was looking at his gloves to distract himself. God forbid he look at his rival and best friend share a moment.(smh 4)

When Puzzles finally stood up again, his red tie properly fixed, Four looked up again to see the two holding hands. With a scoff, he made for the door, jingling his keys. “Great, now that we’ve got everything ready, let’s go.”

“Oh, hold on.” Puzzles split from the group and ran upstairs, leaving Four to groan loudly. Three raised an eyebrow skeptically. “What is your issue, dude?” He asked, crossing his arms. Meggy turned Mario’s tie so that it was facing forward, and Mario turned it back to the side of his neck. Meggy shrugged and turned back to the door. “I don’t have an issue, I just want to get going already!”

“It sounds like you’re just annoyed with Puzzles grabbing something at the last minute.”

“I am.”

“I’m back!” Puzzles announced, quickly running down the steps again as he slipped something into his suit. Four stared at him strangely as he took Mario’s hand again, smiling. Four narrowed his eyes at the adware suspiciously before opening the door, stepping outside. The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon of the Showgrounds, and the castle shone with a soothing glow in the fading sunlight. The van they approached was a deep purple, signaling it was Three’s.

Three spun his car keys in his fingers before catching them and pressing a button, prompting the van to beep. “Alright, losers, get in! We've got a ball to attend.”

~

The castle was just as grand as before. The glass-stained windows varied in all the colors of the rainbow, and the lights inside illuminated the streets outside. Nobles and civilians were gathered at the double doors begging to be let in while knights and security kept them away. When the group finally pulled up to the castle, they were confused. 

Meggy fiddled with her dress nervously. “What's the hold up?” She asked, fixing her hair. Her dress stretched down to her knees, and had an off hanging shoulder strap. Around her neck were pearls, shiny and glimmering in the light from inside the castle. Puzzles tilted his head sideways. “Perhaps we can ask one of the knights? They will surely have an answer for us, right?”

“Doubt it, but it's worth a shot.” Four replied, running towards the doors and pushing through the group. The others decided to follow him in curiosity. Four tapped the shoulder of a security guardian facing the windows. When the guard turned around, the crew realized it was Swag with a bruised eye. Three’s eyes widened as he tried to hide a smirk. Puzzles stepped forward worriedly. “Swag! Are you alright?” He asked, pointing to the bruise. Swag blinked in confusion before shrugging it off and turning back around, peeking into the windows. “I’m fine, some kid flung a toy car at me. The Queen is inside getting her dress fixed last minute since it tore. She should be out in a few minutes.”

“Why are you here in the first place?” Four asked, watching the nobles at the doors argue with the knights. He found the situation hilarious, though he dared not show it. Swag stared at him skeptically. “I’m a guard here? I was specially hired by her majesty herself to make sure no troublemakers get in.”

“Then I guess Mario and Puzzles aren’t allowed, huh?” Four joked, straining a smile as he glared at Puzzles. Puzzles didn’t seem to notice his glare, however, as he had chosen to occupy himself by plucking flowers from the bushes around the castle and pinning them to Mario’s suit. Four’s smile dropped as he looked back at Swag, who had an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “No... If anything, I’m more worried about you and your partner hoarding the buffet table.” Swag pointed a finger at Three and Four, to which both guardians took offense and the girls burst into a fit of giggles. Puzzles and Mario looked towards the group in confusion, as they had completely left the conversation as soon as Swag said it would be a minute before the doors opened. Puzzles looked towards Mario as he plucked another flower. “What are they giggling about?” He mumbled, tucking it into the lapel of Mario’s suit. Mario shrugged, and the doors to the castle opened.

A lady dressed in a long, purple ball gown stepped out of the castle as the nobles and knights made way for her, the gem of her crown glistening in the moonlight. She looked around for a moment before turning to the SMG4 crew, and she put on a big smile. “My guests! You’ve arrived!”

“We’ve been here for 10 minutes- gah!” Four felt him be pulled forward by the queen as she shook his hand aggressively, a wide grin on her face. Puzzles and Mario returned to the group as she did this, and when she released his hand, she clasped hers together. “I’m so delighted you all could attend! I’m such a fan of your work!”

“Oh! You- You know who we are?” Three asked curiously, and Puzzles perked up. “Have you heard of something called Journey To Stardom, your majesty?”

Queen Alyssa grinned as she turned towards Mr. Puzzles. “Yes! You must be the script writer! Come in, come in!” She grabbed the adware’s hands and dragged him inside, and as the crew and other guests followed, an excited chatter filled the large ballroom.

As Alyssa dragged the group to a corner of the room, a knight positioned himself at her side, his sword in its sheath and his hand at the pommel. Three swallowed nervously as he turned his attention to the bouncing queen. “Thank you so much for coming, I’ve always wanted to meet you in person!”

“Hah, Queen Alyssa, you had the chance to meet us at the last dance.” Four mentioned, and Alyssa nodded. “I did, but I was mostly looking for him, heh!” Alyssa pointed to Puzzles with a smile, and Puzzles flinched. The group turned to him curiously and he chuckled, and Mario, noticing his anxiety, took his hand gently and smiled. “Thanks for inviting us, Queen Alyssa,” He began, offering his other hand out to shake. Queen Alyssa took it and smiled. “It’s an honor to be here, truly. Now if we could enjoy the night...”

“Ah, of course!” Alyssa released Mario’s hand and waved the crew off, grinning. Four and Three immediately wheeled around and burst for the buffet table, while Tari and Meggy followed them to prevent them from swallowing the whole buffet whole. Mario waved goodbye to the queen as he dragged Puzzles away, though instead of rushing towards the buffet table, he opted for a wall instead. Puzzles crouched to the ground as he held his screen. “Oh my god, I fucked up, didn’t I...”

“What are you talking about, you did fine!” Mario reassured, cupping his hands around his lover’s frame. When Puzzles looked up at him, he saw how he had decorated his lover’s suit with a variety of flowers ranging from roses to carnations to lilacs, all from the gardens outside the castle. The way they glistened in the light coming from the chandelier... Oh, he couldn’t not kiss that face. Puzzles’ screen flipped from worry to contempt as he gazed into Mario’s eyes, leaning into his palms. Mario smiled and chuckled, kissing the screen and feeling the fuzz on his lips.

“Hey, lovebirds!” SMG3 shouted from the buffet table, catching the couple’s attention. Three was holding a glass of wine in his hand as he waved them over, while Meggy and Tari were consuming cupcakes by the minute. Four, weirdly enough, had decided not to eat anything from the table, instead opting to brood facing away from it. Mario shrugged off Four’s strange behavior before pulling Puzzles to his feet and approaching the group. 

“Enjoying yourselves yet, homosexuals?” Three asked jokingly, poking Puzzles’ screen before his hand was slapped away. Puzzles rolled his eyes as his expression flipped to annoyance, and Mario chuckled. “The night just began, Three, we haven't even done any- Ooh, muffins!” Mario breezed past Three to reach for a yellow-frosted muffin and took a bite, grinning as he did so. Puzzles sighed as he looked at the Italian, a stupid lovestruck grin on his screen. Three elbowed the adware as he chuckled. “He's gonna steal your brain cells, Puzzles. He's a magnet.”

“And I'm made of metal~” Puzzles responded, fiddling with the knobs on his head again. Three paused as he processed the reply, blinking before grinning again. “You sly motherfucker-”

“SMG3.” Four called out for the guardian, frustrated. “Can you do me a favor and grab a glass for me?” Four forced a smile as he looked at Three, and while Three was confused, he complied with Four’s strange request, grabbing another glass from the table and pouring some wine into it. As he walked to Four with his drink, Meggy and Tari walked over to Mario and began to strike up a conversation, which was hard to keep since Mario was stuffing his face. 

As Three handed him his drink, Four grabbed his arm and pulled him close, his expression stern. Three yelped as he felt himself be pulled closer, almost dropping the glass onto the checkered floors. “Wha- Dude what the fu-”

“Don't you think Puzzles is planning something?” Four asked, his voice low. Three’s eyes widened in surprise as he processed the question, catching a glance at Puzzles at the other end of the table. He had a smile on his screen and he was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. Three looked back at Four like he was crazy. 

“Dude, what the hell?”

“You saw him earlier tucking something into his suit, right?”

“So? It was probably a phone or something!” Three wrested his arm from Four’s grip, causing the wine in the glass to splash onto both of their suits. The crew looked at them in confusion. Four scoffed and walked away from the group, climbing the stairs to the balconies above. Three looked back at the group and shrugged. Puzzles tilted his head worriedly. “Is he okay? Is Four feeling ill?”

“He's probably just being delusional or some shit.” Three answered, grabbing a napkin from the table and dabbing it against the stain on his vest. “Oh...” Puzzles sighed, gripping Mario's hand.

“I hope he's okay.”

~

Four grumbled as he wiped his vest, staining his gloves with the wine as he tried to clean his suit. “Stupid fucking... Red wine! Ugh!”

Four groaned and turned towards the balcony, leaning over the fence and looking over the guests that were chattering endlessly. He glanced at his friends, who were huddled by the buffet table and stuffing their mouths full of the many treats and wines that the table offered. 

His gaze fell onto Mr. Puzzles, and his eyes narrowed in frustration. He knew he was hiding something. He saw him fiddle with the lapel of his suit, how he tugged at his cuffs, he had a secret. Not to mention just before they left the Showgrounds, Puzzles had to grab something of importance before they left. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. 

Four watched as Puzzles waved goodbye to the others, and with an intrigued expression, watched him approach Queen Alyssa and talk with her for a moment. He saw him lean down to whisper in her ear, and he noticed how her expression became surprised before turning to glee. He watched Puzzles burst towards the stairs to the opposite balcony, where it was empty and devoid of guests and guards. Four’s brow furrowed as he made his way towards that balcony, circling around the path and avoiding being seen by his friends as he slipped upstairs again.

As he snuck up on Puzzles, hiding behind a pillar, he saw the adware pull a small, black box from his suit, staring at it wistfully as if it were an aged photo. Four’s thoughts began to race. What if it was a remote of some sort? A button that if he pressed, he would explode this castle up, or worse, poor Queen Alyssa?! He had to stop him. 

As Puzzles began to put away the box, Four lunged at him, knocking him to the ground and the black box sliding across the floor. Puzzles shrieked as he tried to scramble towards it, but Four quickly shoved him and grabbed it out of reach, holding it away from the adware as he stood up. Puzzles’ expression was mortified. “SMG4! W-What are you doing up here?” He asked nervously, his hands twitching nervously. Four glared at him. “Don't start asking me questions, Puzzles! I knew you were hiding something!” He yelled, gripping the box tighter. Puzzles glanced out over the balcony in worry, and upon finding that nobody had heard the telling, sighed in relief. Four’s eyes twitched. 

“Listen, Four, I can explain-”

“Can it, cyborg! Why do you have this?! Is it a remote? Did you plant a bomb somewhere in this castle?!”

“No! How would I be able to do that, I've been with the others this whole time!”

“I saw you talk to Queen Alyssa!”

“Ah-” A heartbeat line spread across Puzzles’ screen as he processed this. Four blinked in confusion at this reaction, and he took the chance to look at the box properly. When Puzzles snapped back to reality, he saw Four trying to open the box, and his fans whirred louder and faster than before. “Four, wait-!”

Four popped open the box, and there he saw a golden ring with a square ruby gem, glimmering in the light of the chandelier. Four’s eyes widened in surprise, he wasn't expecting this. When he looked back up at Mr. Puzzles, he saw the adware trying to hide his expression behind his hands, his fans loudly whirring his head and echoing across the hall. Four blinked as he processed the implications.

“You... You were going to propose to Mario tonight?” Four asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. He didn't understand this at all; Why would Puzzles hide this of all things? Was it a love thing? Puzzles nodded sheepishly, his screen visibly red as he tried to hide it. From what Four could see from behind his hands, Puzzles’ expression was embarrassed and flustered. Speaking of his hands, he had only just noticed a silver band on his finger, with a small diamond right in the center. How had Mario not noticed?

Four’s gaze softened as he looked back at the ring he held in his hands. Why did he feel so guilty now? Puzzles was an enemy; He deserved no sympathy. 

But... All he had been thinking about tonight was Mr. Puzzles. What about Mario? 

They were the ones that were together, after all. Mario loved Puzzles for more than just his tv abilities. He liked his smile, his voice, his haha; Puzzles liked Mario's personality, his confidence, his humor. They were a great pairing, even with the imperfections and odd past. Why couldn't Four see that? 

Four sighed as he closed the box and walked back to Mr. Puzzles, pulling his hands from his face and placing the box in his palms. Puzzles’ screen flickered in confusion as his fans lowered in volume. “Do your proposal.” Four commanded, closing his palms as he crossed his arms. Puzzles stood up in surprise. “I-”

“I'm not gonna fight it. Just- Do your thing. I'll go downstairs to watch it and hang out with the others, just...” Four took a deep breath and smiled, watching as a wide grin spread across Puzzles’ screen. “Just go do it, man.”

“Oh, thank you!” Puzzles dropped down and hugged the guardian tight, causing Four to yelp. Four chuckled as he patted the cyborgs back, and after a moment of them hugging, Puzzles pulled away and ran down the steps. Four soon followed after him, aiming for the buffet table and rejoining the group. Three greeted Four casually. “Hey dude. Are you done being crazy, yet?” He asked jokingly, and Four rolled his eyes. Mario offered the guardian a muffin, grinning as he wiped frosting from his lips. Four laughed and took the muffin, unwrapping the plastic cup and taking a bite. Soon, Puzzles returned to the group and took Mario's hand, leading him out to the middle of the ballroom. Tari and Meggy blinked. “What is he doing?” Meggy asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“Beats me.” Three replied, watching as Puzzles kneeled to the floor to be level with the Italian. This wasn’t a strange sight to see with the crew, or anyone in general; Puzzles was extremely tall, and Mario was just over 5 feet tall, so of course, Puzzles would crouch and kneel to have proper conversations with his boyfriend. 

A ringing noise echoed across the ballroom, startling all of the guests as everyone turned their attention to Queen Alyssa holding a microphone.

“Attention, guests! Thank you all dearly for attending my coronation party! It is truly an honor to have you all here!” Alyssa beamed with excitement as she bounced slightly up and down, her dress flowing with her movements. “Now, for most of you that attended the last gala that my father held, the schedule is the same; We’ll all gather in the middle of the ballroom and pair up with our partners to do a spin and waltz to end the night! But first...” Alyssa pointed at Puzzles and Mario, directing the crowd's attention to them. “One of our guests had something to say.”

The room fell silent. Some guests began to mumble among themselves, though the crew near the buffet table was silent. “What is going on?” Three asked quietly, glancing at Four. Four shrugged and raised his hands. Puzzles sighed as he took his lover's hands, gripping them tight as he gazed into Mario's eyes lovingly. Mario smiled.

Puzzles took a deep breath. “Mario, you have made me the luckiest, happiest guy in the world. Every experience we've shared, the memories, those endless conversations, I've cherished every single one of them.” Puzzles cupped his palm around the Italian's cheek, and Mario immediately leaned into his hand, grinning as he continued to stare at Puzzles. The adwares fans spun faster. “These past 6 months with you have been a delight. I would never trade you for anything else, 5 stars or otherwise.” Those words stung SMG4 like a bullet. He really thought Puzzles was still looking for fame after all this time, but he was wrong. Despite the sting, Four continued to watch with a smile. 

Puzzles pulled his hand away from Mario’s cheek and reached into his suit, rummaging through it before pulling out the black box he had before. Mario's eyes widened slightly as the gears began to turn in his head. “Are you-”

“Mario, my love, my sun, my star, I want to spend every moment with you for the rest of my life, until my fans stop spinning and my heart stops beating.” Puzzles opened the box and revealed the golden ring, prompting the guests, and the crew at the table, to gasp. “Holy fucking shit.” Three mumbled as he uncrossed his arms, setting his glass of wine down on the table before wringing his hands. Tari and Meggy began to squeal with excitement. Four let his smile grow wider. 

“Mario...” Puzzles began, taking the ring from the box and shutting it. “Will you... Marry me?” Puzzles hesitated muttering the fateful words, but when he finally got them out, Mario began to bounce up and down. He was smiling from ear to ear, his eyes wide and glimmering with excitement. “Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!!" Mario tackle-hugged the adware in excitement, crying and laughing at the same time as tears welled up in his eyes. Puzzles’ screen flickered at the response before he burst out laughing, scooping up the Italian and spinning him around as they filled the ballroom with their laughter. The crowd of guests burst into cheers and clapping, and Tari and Meggy squealed. “Oh my god!!” Tari explained, grabbing Meggy by the shoulders and shaking her. Meggy laughed as they hugged each other, and Three laughed. “Holy shit, Four, are you seeing this?!” He asked, looking at the guardian. He was surprised to see that Four was smiling at the couple, watching them spin about. “Yeah, I am seeing it. And for once...”

“I don't feel angry to see it.”

~

The dance came to a close, the music ending on a high note as the crowd dispersed. Puzzles and Mario immediately dashed towards the buffet table, where Tari and Meggy greeted them with open arms. Mario tackled Meggy excitedly, the two squeezing each other as they squealed. Tari bounced up and down as she stared at the ring on Puzzles’ finger, admiring the gem that sat on the silver. Three had begun complimenting the cyborg incessantly, and while Four remained silent during it all, he gave Mario an approving nod when the Italian glanced at him.

“I'm so happy for you two!” Meggy exclaimed, waving her hands up and down. Puzzles chuckled sheepishly as he tugged at his suit jacket. “Ah, well, mmm.” For once, the address didn't have a response, though he didn't need one; Mario was happy doing all of the talking for him. “I know! This is- Ahahah! We're finally getting married!” Mario flapped his arms up and down excitedly, and Three clapped Puzzles on the back. “Good going, dude! Takes a lot of courage to do that in front of so many people.”

“Ah- Well, it's not my first time doing something like that in front of an audience, eh...” Puzzles laughed shyly as Mario jumped up and kissed him on the vent, prompting the adware to burst into shy giggles. Queen Alyssa approached the group with a wide grin. “I'm so happy for you two!” She announced, taking Mario's hands and shaking them. “I'm glad you could trust me with such an important event to set the mood for, Puzzles!”

The crew stared at him for a moment. Mario and Three burst into laughter while Tari just stared at him in shock. “You went to the queen to set up your proposal?!” She blurted, and Puzzles nodded. “I-It was just a favor! Nothing more...”

“Don't stress about it, Puzzles.” Four said, walking up to him and resting his hand on his forearm. Puzzles looked down at him in surprise. “You two are a great couple.” Four put on a smile as he raised his thumb at the adware, and Puzzles’ screen flickered as he grinned.

This was the best night they'd ever had.

[refriedrambles]

The door opened, Skoodge hurried into the room. The sickening smell of blood assaulted him. And unfortunately it wasn’t the coppery smell. His antenna twitched at the quiet dripping sound. He looked through the glass and gasped. Before he’d even realized what it was he was next to the still bleeding irken. The glass around his clatter as he took small steps towards him. He choked back tears as he looked at his mangled friend. With a sharp breath he called out, “Zim?” 

He forced through his hesitation. His disbelief. And shoved his guts back in. He quickly tore through the restraints and cradled Zim in his arms.

The irken began to come to struggling as much as he could, but he was weak and drained. Skoodge tensed as he went limp in his arms.

“Stay with me, Zim,” he said shakily. “I’ll get you out of here.” Beneath it all rage began to bubble.

He fled. A trail of pink blood leads to his ship. They were quickly off. Skoodge put it on autopilot as examined his clutchmates injuries.

Scissors snipped through the torn fabric. Carely he pulled it away from the wounds. It caught in areas that had already begun to scab, he snipped there too. I-it’d probably be better to do this in the base… but he didn’t think he had the time. He used what painkillers he could on Zim with his PAK in the state it was. He checked his abdominal cavity for any foreign objects. Wincing and pleading for to stay asleep as he did. He flooded him with healing gel. Hoping desperately it would erase the messy gouges in his spooch. And then he stitched up the worst of it. Neither of them were med drones. But Zim was better with this sort of stuff. He never should have been in this state. 

Skoodge shouldn’t have allowed it to happen. And yet…

He was shaking. In rage. In worry. In confusion and fear. He was shaking so much he had to pull himself away in fear that he’d make things worse. It must hurt. It was torture in the truest sense. It must have been unbearable… Unimaginably painful. But it was Zim. It was Zim and he’d be fine. He’d heal. Zim was like him. He always came back. Even when others didn’t. If he died here. He’d be fine later. He’d come back.

The irken hissed, eyelids fluttering.

Skoodge bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and rushed back over to him.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Zim looked at him with blank eyes. That horrible whirring started. He needed that thing off his PAK.

They needed to pay for this. 

Gently with the paper laid out on his chest Skoodge pushed the irken back down as he tried to raise himself up. “Please Zim… Just trust me and I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” He flinched at the touch and began to hyperventilate. 

“D-don’t,” he begged, trying to curl in on himself. He was prevented from doing so. Skoodge had gone numb and cold.

“Ship.”

“Yes?”

“Is there anything else we can use to keep him asleep, while I finish this?”

[shadowofthehost]

"I don't think you're the worst. We're in Hell, you're a sinner, you're not a great person and considering where you are, what you are, that's to be expected. You're not doing anything to make up for your sins and well, actually, kind of seems you're adding on as you go but you're not bad. You're making the best of the situation. You certainly managed to make me change my opinion of you and that is not an easy feat, especially for you but you did it. Maybe one day you can change Alastors mind too but it's not going to be any easier even with me trying to do it too." He chuckled, smiling softly as he shrugged with his hands. "You may just be stuck fighting him forever."

His grin grew once again as he pointed to the other. "Sounds like you should introduce me to her especially, if she bakes because I will definitely be her best friend for cookies." He was a simple creature, like a stray cat in some cases, feed him and he'll keep coming back and he'll even kill something to show his affection in return though that usually only works on people that had a similar taste for flesh. Thankfully, it seemed that Dia was very much someone that might appreciate a mauled Imp or a piece he'd tore off a sinner so, he would gladly bring her meat in return for her company.

"If she makes lime jello and those little hot dog things, she can keep that. Niffty made that one night and I promise you, I can stomach most anything and even eat sprinkles on my steaks but that was awful." Astor said as he wrinkled his nose in disgust. It didn't help that he did not like fruit flavored things most of the time. Blue raspberry was the closest to fruit he'd eat and that was even artificially made.

Rolling his eyes at the poor excuse, Astor reached over and flicked his antenna. "Maybe not on your own but do you really want to be working come next extermination and have to look back on your years in Hell, and all you did was work, when the Angels come to get you, is that all you want?" He asked as he crossed his arms, debating on if he should dig out one of his video games and make the other play it with him next he stopped by. At least it would be better then this. He liked dancing, maybe he could find one of those dancing games and see if he was any good at them, even if he wasn't, at least it was fun cause whatever this was he was doing now, it wasn't fun. In fact, it seemed exhausting.

"I can be but most of the time, it's a lot of hanging upside down." He laughed, smiling wide as the other sang. "I wouldn't consider Chungus much of a shark either in that regard. Suppose that could be blamed on the breed. Do hammerheads have much patience, considering the space between their eyes and brain." He snorted. "Tiger sharks are pretty aggressive, though so are cats when provoked so, might just be the other part of them that lacks patience." Astor noted with a tilt of his head.

Right, he was leaving, getting out of here. Folding his hands behind himself, Astor laughed. "Well, I hope at least one of us is getting rest." He hummed as he started toward the darkest part of the room. "Oh and I might still consider that half asleep duet sometime so, better start sleeping early so you can keep up." The shade giggled, his eyes glowing brighter the darker it was around him. "Anyway, have a good night, sparkplug." He cooed, forcing himself to leave at that point, if he stayed any longer, he'd keep the conversation going for hours, until dawn probably and this had probably gone on long enough.

Dissolving into the dark with a wave goodbye, Astor groaned once he was outside and held his face in his hands partially filled with regret because he couldn't remember what all he said about Alastor and partially kicking himself for even considering half the shit he had been thinking since Vox touched him. Was he really that needy? Yeah, he knew he was but Satan sake, he didn't need to be reminded!

He could practically hear Alastors voice in his head, telling him how stupid he was for even going near the overlord, although at the moment that could be his own voice because yeah, all of that felt very stupid at the moment. He needed a drink, he needed a drink and to not go anywhere near Alastor for like a year.

Astor shook his head, laughing to himself as he flexed his fingers, he could still feel the tingling of electricity in his finger tips and he couldn't deny he wanted more of it but that wasn't happening tonight, nope, he was fleeing like a coward because it was better then well, was it really cheating? Valentino slept with most of his workers, Vox probably didn't see it that way either, it was just him that struggled with the thought of sharing, even if it wound up one night, it wasn't what he wanted. The only thing was, he didn't know what the hell it was he wanted. He'd come to see Vark not fall all over himself making doe eyes because Vox called him cute and darling! His cheeks flushed as he started for the street. Okay, yeah he did like that but that didn't make it any less...desperate. Ears flattening as he scowled to himself, Astor rolled his eyes.

"Idiot." He scolded himself with a scoff of laughter.

"I'd be surprised if it was," From an outside perspective, Vox is certain he will never be able to articulate exactly what sort of relationship he shares with Alastor and Astor. He hates him, he loves him, they will kill each other and be the only people left as Hell burns around them. There are rules to their engagements, unspoken between them, and Astor had been an alteration to them after decades. At first, he'd been annoyed, and now he's come to appreciate the shadow for what he is, tonight even more so.

Vox rests a hand on his chest, faux offended. "Remind me to never let you meet my PA's wife. Dia would love you." And then he'd never hear the end of it, though her meat was, at the very least, usually cooked. Vox lifts an eye, a subtle annoyance at the reminder that he has, mostly, made his peace with. "Yeah, yeah, but that's old news. You didn't live through the 1950s dinner parties, you might be grateful to never have to eat another canapes if you saw some of the monstrosities that were made."

He grimaces, actually letting the expression project rather than the imperfect stutter of trying to hold the smile in place. There's not really any defence of the situation. "There's... a lot of work to do." It's a weak excuse, even to him, and that's a crying shame for a man who's job was propaganda. He might not be as good with words as Alastor but it's not like he's bad with them either! "I literally can't do that. Sinners can't die, beside, it's fine, just a little bored with it all." When was the last time he'd just... not worried and actually relaxed? Too long ago if he can't place it.

He can just imagine what sort of chaos aerial silks and a cat, shark or otherwise, would cause. Vark at least, has nothing quite like that for him to be able to pull down, and Vox is certain that may be a hobby he passes on, unless he fancies a broken screen. He laughs, "Pretty. I'm sure you're graceful." The city keeps building higher and higher, he's sure that Astor could see plenty from the rooves. "'Fly me to the moon / Let me play among the stars / And let me see what spring is like / On a-Jupiter and Mars," he hums, even if the top of the tower isn't quite Jupiter.

"Ah, now there you have me." It's not untrue by any means, the hostile takeover acquisitions speak for themselves. His empire was big, but was, by no means, made from the ground up in all areas. "I'm not sure that makes Vark a shark then-- he's less... patient."

"I'm glad," Vox says, pulling his hand back as Astor does. It's true, he's right. It's safer this way. No chance of anything, nothing... his fans whirl, and he nods, the smile firmly affixed once again. "Right, yes. Sleep, work. No rest for the wicked." If there were still blood to rush he thinks he might be lightheaded from that alone.

Vox laughs, forced and mechanical in a way that it isn't when it's genuine. "I'll be hearing from you then. I'd walk you out but..." he gestures around the penthouse. "Not really an out to walk to."

[10moonymhrivertam]

“Alya!” It was a small, raspy voice, and it looked like maybe it was coming from that black blur shooting across the park. “Alya!” Whatever it was, it came to a stop just in front of her face. She blinked. It had a pretty big head, and something about that antenna was familiar...like the way Trixx’s ears tapered at the ends.

“A kwami?” She murmured. Then she pressed her lips together, hard. Nino and Marinette were right there, after all.

“I need your help.”

“My help?” She tried to hide him with her body, but he pivoted so that there was no possible way Marinette could miss him. She was staring, wide-eyed, a hand near her purse.

“I figured either you or Chloe was the best bet, and I’m glad you worked out: this would’ve been a real pain otherwise.”

“I’d love to know the connection there,” Alya said dubiously. It felt wrong, talking to him out in the open like this, but he clearly wasn’t going to let her hide. If she had to guess, she’d say this was the Black Cat kwami, but shouldn’t he know better?

“Marinette in hearing distance. It’s easier because she actually likes you: I might’ve had to improvise with Chloe.”

“Do you have something to tell me?” Alya looked to her, a smile pulling at her lips. Even when they weren’t around Adrien, it was rare for her to be this assertive, and it was a nice change of pace. It was a little weird that she wasn’t wigged, but - maybe she’d held one of the Miraculous, too.

“What I need Marinette to overhear is that I just got caught between a rock and a hard place.” He was still looking at her, but it seemed like he was answering Marinette’s question.

“Can you...not talk to me?” Marinette asked, her brow furrowing. Her purse moved a little at her hip.

“My kid did his best, but - I think he’da had to have been more specific to let me take the loophole he was trying to give me, and we didn’t exactly have that option.”

“A loophole?” Alya frowned. “Did...Did Chat Noir give you some kind of order?” She lowered her voice, even though it was pretty pointless. Only Nino and Marinette were around, and they’d probably already put it together themselves.

“The good news is that he got away with not ordering me to stay in the house. The bad news is that he had to compromise somehow, and that was not talking to Ladybug.”

“Did you need me to use the Ladyblog? Or -” he’d said either her or Chloe would do. Because Marinette would overhear. Alya’s eyes slid over to her. She was just staring at him. “What.” It wasn’t a question. Not really.

“Tell her I’m sorry,” he said, without a trace of sincerity. “At best, her partner’s off the field. At worst...”

“What’s going on, Plagg? Why did Chat have to order you not to talk to me? Why can’t he be on the field anymore?” Marinette asked in rapid succession, holding onto her purse string with a white-knuckled grip.

“Well. It’s sure gonna be a scoop.” Plagg smiled thinly at her. “It’s his fucking Dad.”

“What?” Suddenly, a kwami popped out of Marinette’s purse. A red kwami. With a black dot on her forehead. Holy shit. “We ruled him out ages ago!”

“Alya, can you ask Sugarcube if that was by him being akumatized? Before we knew about Mayura?” Plagg crossed his arms. Before Alya could even make a cursory attempt or Ladybug’s kwami could talk over her, Plagg’s jaw dropped. “Mayura. Fuck. It’s gotta be...that’s just fucking great!”

“Plagg!”

Plagg inhaled like he was going to yell, glaring right at Sugarcube, but - nothing happened. He tore his eyes away to Alya.

“Tell Tikki you’re teenagers and I can swear if I damn well want to,” he snarled. He hugged himself after, though. “You’ve all seen how underhanded he can be to get his way for civilian sh - things.” He said pointedly. “He wouldn’t even need Mayura. He probably just takes Nooroo off for long enough to dodge suspicion.”

“You’re sure, then? It’s not something circumstantial like the book?” Marinette’s attention focused more sharply on Tikki. Plagg nodded.

“The kid didn’t want to order me,” he implored, staring into Alya’s eyes. “His Dad made him. And that wish...I trust my kid, but he’s going to be doing some hard thinking.”

“What’s the wish?” Marinette asked, quiet and distant.

“Who wouldn’t wish for their mom back?” Plagg had a lot of presence before, but now he seemed really small and sad. Marinette stood for a moment with her head hung. When she straightened up, there was a fire in her eyes, and she had her head cocked slightly to the side.

“Plagg. Who’s Hawkmoth?”

“Hawkmoth is Gabriel Agreste.” Alya blinked, but Marinette only nodded grimly. She glanced around, but it was just them.

“Tikki, spots on!”

Then Alya was blinking at Ladybug instead of Marinette, and Ladybug was looking her straight in the eye.

“Come on, guys. You’ll need Trixx and Wayzz. And we’d better track down the others.”

---

self-critique: Don’t think I did enough with the loophole-talking-to-Alya and I don’t think the end was in the best place, but this was one of my things I needed to put to paper without necessarily needing it to be good. I just always feel a little despondent when it’s not great anyways.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (4)

warnings: mentions of Roman's tragic backstory, health concerns, chronic fatigue mentions, but really mostly fluff

-

“Roman!” A hushed whisper-yell came from halfway across the cave.

Roman looked up from where he was carefully taking apart and cleaning out his communicator, feeling a stab of exhaustion upon seeing Patton crouched next to their resident baby Human. They’d just spent what felt like half a suncycle entertaining the kid, who seemed to wake up with more energy than all three of them combined.

Virgil was in fact the source behind the crumbs of mud and dirt that had worked their way into the cracks of his communicator: Logan was currently at the ship working inventory, and the kid had insisted on checking up on him as often as he remembered that the Ulgorii wasn’t with them, which was often.

Still, they’d managed to tucker him out eventually, and he’d fallen asleep in their presence for the third time ever, which felt like some kind of accomplishment in itself.

An accomplishment that they were about to undo if Patton didn’t stop making a ruckus. Roman drew his hands apart slowly, signing ‘quiet’ at his friend as he cast one last look at the partially assembled communicator and then padded over.

“What is it?” he signed, since whispering was both rough on his throat and not always guaranteed to come out as low volume as he’d like.

Patton took a moment to gesture wildly at the Human, who was slumped over on his side. Roman felt a sudden stab of fear, and leaned over to check his breathing.

To his relief, Virgil was simply sleeping, no injuries or illness visible in him. He turned a frustrated stare onto Patton. If the Ampen had called him over here and scared the scales off of him just to have another fit about how cute the Human was, he was turning right around and walking to the nearest river to dunk his head under and scream.

Before he could say as much, Patton finally found his words. “Roman, he’s purring!”

Roman jerked back slightly in surprise. “He’s what?”

“Purring!” Patton looked up at him, antennae fluttering back and forth rapidly like he couldn’t contain his confused alarm. “He’s never done this before! Do you think…,”

Roman moved closer, ears pricking forward attentively. Sure enough, there was a low little buzz coming from the Human. He couldn’t help but notice the purr’s odd tone, the weakness of it, the way it stuttered and paused and occasionally seemed to falter entirely.

“It’s not right,” he muttered to himself, placing the pads of his hand on the Human’s torso and feeling the faint buzz.

Patton whistled in worried query, glancing between them both. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s Human, Pat, I don’t know if—,” Roman froze midway through lifting his hand away; Virgil was making a short, high noise, almost like a whine. His little face had crinkled up in sleep, the way Human distress looked, and his purr had turned to hitching breaths.

Roman glanced at his broken communicator and swore under his breath, feelings strong enough to make Patton fluff up with secondhand panic.

“I’ll go find Logan!” he said, twisting and scampering out of the cave, quick enough that his skittered footsteps had vanished by the time Roman’s wordless sound of protest made it out of him. Roman had longer legs, and Patton was better with the kid, so why had things turned out like this?!

He looked back down at Virgil, who had begun to unconsciously curl inward, leaving his back exposed. The motion hardly made sense; according to the body scan Logan had coaxed the kid through, the center of all his nerves met there, with only a thin layer of skin and muscle surrounding it.

He had no scales or rough hide or even fluffy plumage to protect his back, but he still curled up with it facing out, as though defending his squishy underside like a Crav’n.

The thought made something in him twist, and his scales went slicked back as another whimper tore through the tiny Human. He glanced at the cave opening: There was no sign of the others’ return. It would probably be a while yet.

Regardless, Roman couldn’t wait around and watch a kit cry any longer. He carefully lifted the Human up into the curl of one arm, crooning lowly at him. Virgil settled slightly, but the tiny, haphazard purr had yet to start back up, and the thought was enough to make him feel nauseous with worry.

He reached back and only hesitated a fraction before unhooking his plate armor, pulling it free and setting it away for the first time in the kit’s presence. Despite the sounds of metal, Virgil didn’t wake, head slumped against a shoulder and gangly limbs pulled in tight.

Still, no purr. Not even that sickly little stutter.

If Virgil had been a Crav’n, a true pup, he would have spent each night cuddled up with his family, falling asleep to their low rumbles and quickly developing his own. It was an automatic reflex, a vital part of deep sleep, a vibration that kept their bodies in good condition.

There were ways it could go wrong. If a pup was abandoned, they’d have problems developing their purr alone. If a pup felt... unsafe enough, they’d stop purring entirely, quiet even in the deepest sleep. When it was a choice between being healthy and not being hunted, even the smallest pups knew which to choose.

Even after rescue, it could be a struggle to regain the reflex, especially without close family. It had taken Roman years to manage, and he could still remember how much better he’d felt when he’d woken up after a full night of low, purring sleep. The sense of relief that came with realizing the ache in his bones didn’t have to be permanent.

Roman wavered, looking down at Virgil. The kid was Human. There was no guarantee this was even what he needed.

But if he did need it, the way Roman had needed it so long ago…

He pressed a thumbpad to the little crinkle in the Human’s brow, smoothing it out, and then sat down with a little grumble of acceptance. He shifted to lean back, his tail keeping him balanced as he settled Virgil’s little curled up form atop his chest.

It had been a while since he had purred while conscious. Parents got plenty of practice, of course, but once a kit was old enough, everyone would greet them with their own rumble, let them know they were safe. It was the best way for older kids to keep practicing their purrs while awake, too.

He hadn’t practiced in a long time, but looking down at the kit, he found his own deep, consistent purr started up with barely a hitch.

It took a few moments, but Virgil cuddled closer, seeming to lose a little of that fearful tension. Roman carefully adjusted him as he got floppier, and frowned at the little sharp bits of bone he could feel under the skin. Patton was right; the kid needed to eat more.

Embarrassingly, his purr got louder, as though he could heal months’ worth of living off a scavenger diet through pure force of will. He should tone it down. He wasn’t a brand new parent looking after their first pup. He didn’t even know if this would help at all.

…

Well, it couldn’t hurt to keep trying, though, could it?

—

When Patton scrambled into the cave ahead of him and then stopped short, Logan feared the worst.

He’d always known that this venture could end in disaster, from the moment they’d realized they were dealing with a Human. Roman had been worried about aggression or violence, the classic fears when it came to Deathworlders and the expected response considering the Cravon’s past.

Logan had been more worried about the situation itself. The black market trafficking industry had led to an abhorrent number of cases with rescued feral children. Very few of them had been successfully socialized, and though Virgil was older and seemed to be improving with them, his worry about the child had never quite gone away.

“Is he…,” Logan felt his throat buzz with some sort of wordless grief, and Patton turned to look at him with wide eyes.

He chirped a negative as quietly as possible, and Logan felt some of the weight on him fall away. Reaching out, Patton curled his little fingers around Logan’s wrist, tapping an apology against his chitlin.

“They’re okay,” he whispered, and then pulled him forward excitedly. “I was just surprised, really surprised— look!”

Once his eyes had adjusted to the slight change in lighting, Logan could see Roman, who was laying on his back up against the wall of the cave, his face lax with sleep and a low rhythmic rumble emanating from his chest. This in itself wasn’t entirely unusual; Roman needed a lot of sleep, and he often took naps here and there.

No, the unusual element was the Human that currently had his cheek squished up against Roman’s neck, sprawled out in the most relaxed position he’d ever seen from the pupa. Roman’s chest plate had been set aside entirely.

“They’re cuddling,” Logan said, bewildered.

“They’re cuddling!” Patton squealed, ecstatic.

He clapped his hands over his mouth, but going by the way Roman’s purr shifted to a growl, the damage was done. Roman’s eyes slit open, and without a moment’s pause his tail curled in front of him defensively, his scales pricking up to make a wall of sharp points between them and Virgil.

The Cravon looked entirely ready to disembowel whoever had dared to try and disrupt the kid’s sleep.

“Roman,” Logan called dryly, “it’s us.”

He ran through his identifying ‘friend-safe’ clicks to cement the statement, but Roman was already settling his scales back down and averting his gaze.

“Sorry,” he forced out, ears flattened back with embarrassment as his growl settled back into that low purr Logan normally only heard while they were settling down to sleep. “Didn’t mean to—,”

“It’s quite alright,” Logan interrupted, unable to completely conceal the amusement he felt. Roman had yet to shift in any way that would jostle Virgil. “Though this is a touching scene, I was under the impression that something was wrong.”

Patton piped up to answer his non-question, though his antennae had yet to stop their excited swaying. “We found out Virgil purrs!”

As if on cue, a haphazard little buzz started up, a rough, faltering pattern that was barely audible. Roman lowered his own purr’s volume, though it seemed to make his ears twitch with reluctance.

They all went quiet to listen to the undersized sound for a moment, the Human still blissfully unaware of all the attention.

“It’s too weak by far,” Roman said, his Common a little more accented through the purr. He was looking at the Human in his arms with blatant worry, a far cry from his original reluctance to interact. “I didn’t know a purr could be this weak.”

“That’s because it’s not a purr,” Logan said, trying to keep any hint of fondness from his voice. His shipmates turned to look at him with wildly varying expressions.

“I’ve seen this phenomenon before,” he continued. “I used the medscanner to check Virgil over, because I had also originally assumed it was a purr, and if it was…,” he faltered.

He’d been just as alarmed as the two of them now were, hearing it. If it had been an internal maintenance process like a Crav’n purr, it would have been even quieter than Roman’s when they’d first started travelling together. He and Patton had witnessed firsthand the difference in Roman’s mood and health once he’d gotten through those rough nights.

Next to him, Roman’s ears were tucked completely flat, as though he knew exactly what Logan was remembering. Logan didn’t understand why Roman was so embarrassed by moments of weakness-- was often frustrated by his friend’s reticence, even-- but now wasn’t the time to address it.

“I was simply concerned about the possibility,” Logan finally settled on, “but after investigating his scan thoroughly, I found it was simply the result of soft tissue vibrations from a partially blocked airway.”

Patton blinked up at him. “What does that mean here?”

“It means I-- we freaked out for no reason,” Roman grumped, carefully pushing himself up as his purr ground to a stuttering halt.

Logan held out a stilling hand. “Not necessarily.”

“So, it is a bad thing?” Patton asked, drooping.

“Not at the moment, however,” Logan cast a meaningful look at Roman, “I have no control to work off of, but I do believe Virgil’s general skeletal and muscular health is in worse shape than they should be. He may not have the capability to self-maintain like you, Roman, but that doesn’t mean he gains no benefits from this. The opposite, really.”

Roman slumped back down immediately, eyes wide. “It’s helping?”

“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “I was planning to bring the topic up with you, actually, once you were more comfortable around him.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Patton chirped delightedly, darting forwards to bump his head against Roman’s chin. “You really stepped up when he needed you, Roman.”

“Of course I did, who do you think I am?” Roman shot back confidently. Everyone politely pretended not to notice the flustered twitching of his tail. Patton peeked over Roman’s shoulder, crooning slightly at the sight of Virgil.

“Cuddle pile!” he cheered softly, using Roman’s arm as a helpful bar to climb up onto him. Roman shifted obligingly, shifting his horns into range for easy handholds when Patton inevitably slipped.

As soon as Patton was settled, feathers puffed out for maximum soft padding, the two of them turned to look at Logan with matching pleading expressions, as though choreographed. Logan clicked with faux reluctance even as he stepped closer.

“Oh, very well,” he conceded, and was pulled into the haphazard pile posthaste.

He mentally tabled the rest of inventory for later, knowing quite well that nothing was going to  get done for as long as the impromptu session lasted.

Still, with his friends beside him and Roman’s pleased purr rumbling through him, he couldn't seem to find anything to complain about.

[trashscenariihxh]

Shalnark x Reader

It’s finally DONE.  TW: for possible dubcon and pure crack.  Fem!bodied reader.

“No fucking way.” You shook your head at the young man before you.  “Absolutely not.”

“What’s wrong?”  Shalnark cocked his head as if confused, though he remained smiling.  “Don’t you want to do this?”

You did.  At least, you had before you got his pants off.  “It’s…” How could you put this delicately? “It’s…” Was there any way you could explain yourself without hurting his feelings?

“It’s not going to fit.”  Your face heated up as you stared at his hardening cock.

Shalnark’s grin broadened.  “Of course it will, ___.” He lied back on the bed, idly stroking himself while you knelt between his legs.

You balked at the idea of even trying.  Part of you even considered putting on your clothes and walking out, until…

“You know, if you don’t try, well…”  Shalnark shrugged nonchalantly.  “I can always make you.”

Your eyes flickered to the pair of antennae on the bedside table.  He wouldn’t… would he? He absolutely would.

“Come, on, ___.”  He reached up and stroked your hair, “it will be easier this way.  And more fun.  I prefer it this way anyhow.”

Did he really?

You suppressed a shudder at the thought of him sticking one of those antennae in you.

“Touch yourself.”  The command was soft, almost upbeat, but entirely serious. You knew that there was no way you could back out.  Not now.

Slowly, as if embarrassed, you slipped a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit.

Shalnark inhaled sharply.  “Good.  Now, stretch yourself.”

Trembling, you slipped two fingers inside yourself.  Moving them slowly in and out, you bit your lip, acutely aware of how intently Shalnark was watching you.  As you began to scissor your fingers, you felt your face growing hot; why did he have to watch you so closely?

“Good.” The word was spoken shortly, curtly, without affection.  It was merely a comment.

Shalnark continued to stroke himself, his eyes trained on your face as though he didn’t give a damn about what was going on between your legs.  “You’d better do a good job,” he warned, his gaze briefly flickering downwards before meeting your eyes again, “because it’s going to happen, one way or the other.”

You suddenly felt ill; you knew exactly what he meant by “the other.” Your stomach lurched at the thought; what exactly had you gotten yourself into?  You looked down at him; the large, innocent eyes unnerved you.  As bright as they were, there was no approximation of affection in them, no gentleness.  No empathy. 

A warm wave of pleasure flowed through you when your fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot.  Shalnark noticed; you saw something flicker behind his eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asked, stroking himself to full hardness.

No.

You shook your head, hoping to stall the inevitable.

Shalnark pouted and propped himself up onto his elbows.  “What do you mean no?”

“I’m not ready,” you stated bluntly, still fingering yourself.

“Why not?”

“I…”  What could you say?  “I need to--”

“Play with your nipples,” Shalnark interrupted.

Face burning, you complied.  You squeezed your eyes shut as you tweaked and rubbed your sensitives buds.  Anything to escape that gaze of his.

Despite your predicament, your ministrations began to take effect.  Little shivers ran down your spine to settle in between your legs; your thighs began to shake.

“You’re ready.”  It was another command.

Knowing full well that Shalnark was probably losing patience, was probably two seconds away from jabbing you with one of his antennae, you resigned yourself to your fate and straddled him.  With a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, Shalnark placed his hands on your hips, guiding you over his fully-hard cock.  Gulping, you looked back down at him, your eyes briefly sweeping over his surprisingly muscular body before closing again.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snapped open.  Who were you to disobey?

“I want you to keep looking at me, ____.”

You nodded before slowly, carefully, lowering yourself onto him.

It hurt.  Despite all your preparations, his girth stung as you took him in inch by agonizing inch.

“____,” his voice was soft.  “I like seeing your face like this.”

All you could do was hum in reply as you continued to sink down.  You paused to let yourself adjust; Shalnark’s hand twitched and for a horrifying moment you thought he was going to reach for the antennae on the bedside table.  Clenching your jaw, you continued.  God help you, you were going to impale yourself on this man whether you liked it or not.

Strong hands suddenly gripped your hips and slammed you down.  A cry tore itself from your throat as you stared wide-eyed at the blonde man beneath you.

“You were taking too long,” Shalnark remarked, shrugging.  “I thought I’d help.”

Some help he was.

You whined, grinding yourself against him as you willed your body to adjust to the massive intrusion.  “Fuck,” you gritted out, breathing out through your nose as the pain radiated out from your core.  He’d taken you far too quickly.

To your surprise, Shalnark began to rub your clit with the pad of his thumb. It helped somewhat; you sighed as you felt yourself relaxing around him.  It still stung, but little waves of pleasure were beginning to cut through the pain.

“Move.”  Another command.

With pained slowness, you rocked your hips experimentally against him.  You cringed; his cock was lodged firmly against your cervix, sending uncomfortable spasms through your body.  

“Move, ____,” Shalnark commanded again, more insistently this time.

With shaking thighs, you lifted yourself up, the sudden emptiness giving you a tiny reprieve from the overwhelming fullness.

“Ah, shit!” You gasped when you sank back down onto his cock.

Shalnark frowned at you, clearly disapproving of how slowly you were moving.  “Come on, ____,” he insisted, thrusting up into you, “move.”  He was losing his patience again.

Resigning yourself to being unable to walk for the next few hours, you began to ride him as quickly as you could.

Large hands gripped your ass as Shalnark thrust his hips upwards to meet yours, his fingers digging into your soft skin.  Every single muscle in your body began to burn as your sex strained around his cock.  When Shalnark changed the angle of his thrusts you gasped again and clenched around him, earning a sharp inhale and a hiss.  

“____, you feel really good,” he blurted out, his eyes finally, finally, fluttering shut as he continued to bounce you on his cock.

Something about seeing him like this, seeing him lose his composure for even the briefest instant, sent a jolt of excitement to your core.  The pain of the initial stretch had abated, turning into a not-unpleasant ache; you could feel the proverbial coil of pleasure tightening in your slick heat.  It didn’t take much for it to snap; with a soft cry, you reached your peak.

Shalnark groaned as you spasmed around him and tightened his grip on your ass.  Suddenly, he paused his thrusting, only to slam you down onto him again.

A string of obscenities flew from your mouth as Shalnark held you in place.  “Fuck ,Shal, please…”  You squirmed against him, desperately trying to ameliorate that pain of the fullness.

Shalnark’s eyes snapped open and he smiled up at you.  “You’re so warm, ___.  So warm and tight.”  He ground his hips against yours as if to make a point.

It was then that you realized that Shalnark didn’t have any intention of ensuring your pleasure; it would be up to you to find your release.  With a trembling hand, you reached down and began to rub your clit, desperate for something, anything, to take your mind off your discomfort.

To your relief, Shalnark released your hips, allowing you to move freely.  You resumed riding him, hoping to get him off as quickly as you possibly could. 

It didn’t take long.  A few moments later, Shalnark moaned your name softly and thrust up into you, cumming deep inside.  You wasted no time in lifting yourself up and off of his cock.  It felt good to be rid of the intrusion, yet you found yourself whining at the sudden emptiness. 

Too exhausted and sore to even think about getting cleaned up, you snuggled up to Shalnark, who looked as though he was ready to drop off himself.  He slung a lazy arm over you as his breathing slowed.  Enjoying his warmth, you closed your eyes, ready to pass out into sweet oblivion.  That is, until the next round.

[infinite-hearts-333]

Gears and chained souls

Fnaf Sander sides AU!!!

Virgil just wanted to complete his job. He didn’t want to be hunted by probably blood thirsty robots. He didn’t want to have daily freak out and break downs. He didn’t want to die.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Blood, slight gore, panic, miscommunication, misunderstanding, death, believing that your gonna die, swearing, being spring-locked, main character death, please tell me if I missed any!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were coming. Virgil was sprinting, lack of air in his lungs -which felt like they were on fire- chest tight and legs aching. He couldn’t stop now, they would catch him, kill him.

He skidded around a corner, the dim flickering lights making it hard to make out the wall, which he avoided hitting by a millimeter, scrambling to get his balance. He had to hide.

A few heart beats later there was a loud crash, metal colliding with cement, and a yowl, metal gears clicking and cracking, voice box shattered and glitchy over and over at a frequency that left ringing in Virgil’s ears.

He didn’t let that slow him, sprinting down the hall, taking a right, then a left, and— panic exploded in Virgil’s chest as he hit a dead end, scrambling for another way out, and by the time he looked back to go back the way he came, the animatronic was already there, soft light blue eyes, one shattered, staring at him.

Shit, shit, shit, SHIT. Virgil didn’t want to die!!!! He looked around desperately, even for something to defend himself with, eyes landing on an empty broken panther suit. Anxiety said no, but when he looked back to see bright red and dark blue eyes had joined the light blue ones, walking steadily towards him, the red one lightly clicking.

Never mind anxiety says yes now, and Virgil dived for the suit, scrambling into it, the animatronic groaning underneath his weight as he slotted his legs in, then arms and then quickly pressed the button, watching the plates shifted and lock into place, sealing Virgil into complete pitch black.

He tried blocking out all the noises outside, focusing on doing his breathing technique, trying to calm. The suit was nudged, and Virgil whimpered, closing his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the other animatronics rip apart the suit and eat him.

There was growling and snarling, static noises and clicks, but nothing happened, Virgil wriggled, trying to peek through the eye holes. He grunted, moving more, shifting. Then there was a click. Not from the other animatronics, but from the one virgil was in. He froze, heart beat picking up more.

Was it alive to?! Another click, and then— Virgil screamed as pain exploded through his leg, and thrashed. Oh ho, did he regret it. White hot pain erupted across his body, something piecing his skin like foam, tearing it open and impaling him. A warm and sticky liquid flooded from him and dripped down him. Blood.

His scream got louder, jerking, reaching out to other robots, desperate for the pain to end. His scream was cut off sharply as something tore through his throat, stuck there, twisting his scream to a gurgle. Black dots danced before his eyes, and he collapsed, choking and hacking out blood.

The dots got bigger, and bigger, and then darkness consumed his vision, his gurgling slowly quieting to nothing.

…

……….

…………….

…...………………

…………….

……….

…

/Hey! Don’t you dare close those eyes!!/

/Patton there’s no way-/

/No! He has to live!! I won’t-/

/I’m sorry Padre…. but…./ someone sighed, /Come here moth ball/

There was talking, and someone was sobbing. It was all so far away, yet so near, and Virgil’s brain was throbbing as he groaned. The noise that left his throat was not a groan, yet it was at the same time, sound waves and clicking constructed and translated in his head.

Silence.

/Please tell me I just heard that./

/No, I heard it to…. could he be…?/

Creaking, and something gently touched him, shifting him. Virgil whimpered, pain buzzing through every vein.

/My stars, he’s possessing it!!/

/He’s WHAT!? How?!?/

/It could be possible since he died in the suit….. like how we were stuffed in ours./

/I’m so so sorry kiddo!!/

Something brushed against him, lifting him slightly and holding him gently. There was touch, but no touch, words but no words, and pain but no pain. Virgil's hurt head and he yelped as he was lifted up.

/Your gonna be fine, everything is okay, you just need to rest.../

Virgil recognise that voice? He could somehow feel soft fluffy fabric over something hard and cold, and then one, two�� three??? Sets of what felt like arms coiling around him.

His eyes barely opened, seeing the adorable childish face of Moral Bug, fluffy moth antenna twitching almost… nervously. Virgil whimpered again, wheezing out a small:

/please…. no…. I don’t- don’t hurt me…. please…/

Moral Bug made a drawn out glitched over chitter, translating to a click of sadness in Virgil’s brain.

/Don’t worry kiddo. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. After all….. your one of us now. But, we’ll talk once you're rested and clean. Shadow Patch, power off./

Virgil’s body suddenly felt heavy, loose and limp in the animatronics arms, eyes drifting shut. Faintly he heard a -Shadow Patch.exe is powering off- and then everything went dark.

And Virgil knew, in that moment, his life had a twist that wasn’t normal. Not in the slightest.

[grim-faux]

2 _ 32 _ Dangerous Activities

First

 No matter how many of the miles and miles of the city they crossed through, it didn’t seem as if they saw any of it. Though getting around in some areas was much more difficult than others, the roads and building nearest to the Signal Tower suffered the heaviest damage. Though further from the Tower held dangers of different varieties, not limited to the destruction of the city and those perils. The speek scrawled on walls and floors, any surface that held the disembodied voices of travelers, carried the vibrations of warning. This place held dangers, shelters was an illusion, They will find you.

    As always, the Thin Man didn’t heed much Mono’s concerns. Adults just didn’t fear anything. Not until they were dead or worse, caught.  

This place seemed safe enough for temporary stop, small and poorly placed t was. The building, or room he should say, wasn’t good enough by the man in the hat standards. Mono wouldn’t disagree, but at least they couldn't get lost and the walls hadn't caved in. The place was a small room on the upper floor of building, with an entry that led directly to the outside. The place was fitted with only a much smaller room, and the bathroom. Some busted out furniture stuff too, like the bed and broken table. Nothing more, no other hide places, which Mono did NOT like.

    One window offered a view of the road and sights outside. Mono sat beside the filthy glass, on watch. He was having a hard time staying focused. It helped that it was brighter outside, but not by much. Little activities kept his eyes open, but his thoughts were badly muddled. He was so tempted to lay his head down – not on the sill here – on the floor, or somewhere within the broken out dresser/television stand beside the furthest wall.

    Doing some laps around the room and extending his investigation did help. They tiny room offered nothing, not even a chair. He poked into the bathroom, but that had even less - no cabinets, not even a vent to crawl through. He hated this place. The faucet was at least easy enough to turn on and shut off; he got a sip of water and splashed his chilled face with frigid liquid - despite barely drying out at all. All of this helped, since for the while he was going nowhere.

  The Thin Man was having a rest. It’d been a while, a good indication how badly the tall thin man needed to stop and do nothing. Do sleep. As well, Mono managed to gather a bit of sleep for himself, before he awoke and realized no one was watch. The man in the hat kept say he wasn't bothered and okay, but Mono decided the Factory took a lot out of him. The Thin Man should probably eat something and do more rest, but the topic always put the Thin Man in a grumpy mood. It was okay, Mono knew better. He kept some attention to the Thin Man - though he couldn't do much to convince the Thin Man of anything - he still kept watch. Like now.

    A big stretch helped. It perked Mono up for a bit, and felt good. He caught the Thin Man doing a stretch the other day, it looked so funny. Like a spider pole. He gave the Thin Man a smile, but the Thin Man didn’t seem impressed. Could possibly not like Mono see him do typical, awkward things. Like eat. Sharing food was important. He gave Mono food, but didn’t he take some for himself? The Thin Man mystified him. Everything with the Thin Man was complicated and unknown.

    Except for the sleep. Always lied. Said would watch, then Mono wakes up and he’s done the opposite. Gone usually. Off to the danger places. Oh well. Mono was okay on half sleep. It would be fine. The man in the hat didn’t like it when he mentioned watch.

  Outside the windowpane, a Viewer meandered by. On some weird impulse, Mono waved at it. They were less frightening with something between him and them, and  him having no reason to creep in close to their proximity. It was out on errand seeking a television signal, or a quiet box it could turn on. The television in this room was busted through.

    The Thin Man sometimes tried to show him how to traverse the transmission, without blowing up the television. It always felt hit or miss. Be calm. Don’t panic. No rush. Boom. He was a bad student, but it was such a trick. The Thin Man conducted the currents like sweeping his hands through a shallow puddle, creating ripples in the stream of electrical threads churning behind the glass barrier. The tall thin man said he was too excited, but Mono couldn't help it. Getting away from the shared shelter and exploring was an adventure, they would reach somewhere eventually. But for the while they roamed across the city, it was together. More important, staying in one place for too long would never not, and always make Mono nervous. Being left and alone, keeping safe - Mono had many jobs, it was hard. Chasing after the Thin Man was less hard.

    It wasn’t often that he rifled through the topic, of why he and the man in the hat had so much same. Felt... Familiar. Had speek – his speek, moved through televisions, and now he knew what his eyes looked like. How different they were from... Her. And the other children, his pack. Was that why he was hated so? That didn't make sense. Who cared what his eyes looked like? What difference did it make? But apparently, it was important for some reason. And it made him a danger.

  He didn't feel like a danger. For some reason, however, it made others not want to be near him. Except for the Thin Man. Still, he didn’t understand how he 'summoned' the Thin Man by opening a door, but it must’ve had something to do with the televisions. The transmission. Tuning it in a very specific way, rather trust blind luck. And the door! It was the same as the Signal Tower. Where the Thin Man was to take him. Said it was his... job.

    She knew, too. Without being there, and seeing what he did. Saw him. Tried to drag her from the screen but failed. Messed up.

    Mono rubbed a space on the glass clean and began doing speek. He fogged the pane and made a curve, then a line.

    Danger. Knew he and the Thin Man were too same. She didn’t understand. He wondered, did She miss him? Or at least, feel bad for not keep? The look on her face when he fell. She didn’t look sad. Maybe he didn’t see right. Could be she saw the Thin Man, and that scared her. That was a stupid thought, she was staring at him.

    He shook his head, and continued doing the speek. He did the Eye. There was a small Six. A cage, as well. He fogged the glass, and did a door, then a television with antenna. As well, a roof edge with people lined up. A tall tree, and a little twig sticking from the mound beneath. Another building, looming above all the others, with a bulb at its zenith. He scrubbed away the speek and once more, did some lines. A chair, and an ugly fish with nub arms.

    He wondered, as he scrawled the things he saw, was the Thin Man still friends with the Tower? It let them in and didn't bother them, despite his new found certainty that it could have. That time remained cloudy in his thoughts, closer to a dream. He remembered Her, the sing box. He killed it. Made her so mad. After that, it's harder to recall. Following her was his forefront focus, escape. The panic. He messed up, it would take them. Run. The flee. It would eat them.

    Scrambling through the collapsing corridor, he could scarcely catch the tinges of color against the crowding patches of grotesque mass. Hurt. He was still hurt. It could wait, he willed his legs to slam against the broken path and keep his pace balanced. The floor ruptured beneath his toes, freshly cleaved bits of rock tore at his feet. Onward he fought, heaving on the silt as his lungs demanded - You MUST STOP. There was no place for stall or recover, no moment to squander as the chattering cracks peered at him with glossy, bulbous glands. Jeered. Laughed. Like the sing box sneered at him.

    Mine. Mine. MineMineMineMineMine. Keep. 

    Faster. FASTER! The entire world came undone, spilling out wriggling folds of flesh and gurgling eyes. The loathsome things flashed and blinked, as he swooped by within inches of the rolling avalanche. They would make it. Don't stop, don't stumble. In the gloom far ahead, something glittered that was not teeth nor rolling viscera. His bones shrieked celebration, that familiar prickle of electric surge pulsed against his mind. Out! Escape! Screen! It gave him that last miniscule swell, coaxing him onward despite how his body ached to fail and be done.

    At his back, a sudden sound nearly launched him through the window. He whipped around and ducked, muscles tense. No walls. No eyes rolling. No dark unknowns....

    It’s only the Thin Man. At the far side of the room, the lank figure shifted on the short sofa seat he propped up in. Mono thought adults used beds, but the Thin Man seemed to prefer sitting. He tipped his head, hat slanting. Electric and distortions hummed pricked at the air of the cool, tiny room, giving him a creaking hurt. This made him mildly wary. He paced back and forth on the windowsill, eyes never leaving the murky corner.

    Before he’s certain at all, Mono dropped off the sill and hurried across the room. He skid under the bed and peeked out on the other side, studying the hunched silhouette as another jolt vibrated along his distorted outline. It is so-so critical that Mono be cautious as with be imperceptible. As he bided and observed with unwavering focus, Mono reached behind his head and rubbed at the scab behind his ear.

    Unsurprising, the Thin Man does not react when Mono clambered onto the couch cushions and sprang in close to his side. It was a bad fit. Not as alarming as the first, but the man in the hat was struggling. He climbed over the arms looped across the Thin Man’s waist, and perched on the chair's arm. The Thin Man was twitchy, face drawn into a grimace, teeth bared. It was scary. Mono wasn't sure if the Thin Man scared him more, or whatever haunting terror had snagged him. Nothing frightened adults....

    With every ounce of his strength, he pushed at the Thin Man’s upper arm. Even a dozen Mono’s wouldn’t have the strength to shift the man in the hat, but he wasn’t trying to jostle him awake. He dug his fingertips into the suit's knit and pulled back, heels digging into the couch arm. Like the way he tried to haul Her out of the television screen.

    It looks bad, but it’s not. A dream haunt. He’d seen worse.

  One time, he remembered Six had the absolute worst sort of dream haunt. The recollection was terrible, Mono didn’t like to revisit it. He wouldn’t have gotten so close to Her, because children dealt with the terrors of sleep on their own. It was best. Unless to shut someone up, otherwise, they didn’t linger on the nightmares. Done was done, don't die in the awake world. And also, it was taboo to dwell on all the ways they could die. Children that started doing warning speek of the things they saw in the haunts, they went off the deep end fast.

  But… she started screeching, and it sounded awful. Agonized. She never made speek like that, except that one... time. The haunting memories became so horrible, he had to stop her. When children cry in the night, they die. That was law. But it was the most horrendous haunt. It was like the monster in the dream was eating her bit-by-bit.

  In their scuffle she beat him up pretty good. They never fought like that – if they fought – it was never like that. When-if they fought, it was never to the point of killing the other. Not… like, the one .̷̣͛.̶͕͊.̶̬̑.̶͎̋T̸̯̅i̶̛̼m̷͉̚e̵͇̒. In the skirmish, she swiped for his bag a few times – something she never would ever do to him. It was brutal fight for survival, to the point of failure being certain death. Mono had to hold her down and throttle her out of it, she was going to get them found and killed.

  And she bit him good (again, something she almost never did to him). His sturdy coat saved him a debilitating injury, as such, she barely broke the skin. A persisting bruise lasted for a long time, along with a powerful ache. He never brought it up. She was upset and embarrassed, he thinks. If he tried do speek, it would have been strange to drag up the topic. It was gone, he was alright. Maybe she didn't remember.....

    "Hey," he hummed, a little louder than he meant to. "Aam got. T's has safe."

    When all the usual methods failed to break the Thin Man’s haunt, Mono scrambled to stand on one of the narrow arms and stood high enough to grip the Thin Man's collar. He slapped his hands against the chest, doing not much aside from agitate dust and static whistling. The man in the hat is totally out, otherwise he’d react to Mono’s proximity.

    "M'not leave," Mono wheezed. "Keep f'r watch. Make good. Psst? Have'gether. Got'y."

    The long arm beneath his toes twitched, and Mono nearly lost his balance. He tugged at the coat lapel, one foot braced to the Thin Man’s chest. This time he would be in the way and might get knocked aside. If he was careful, Mono was might only fall. Regardless the risk, it was harder to wait around and not do anything.

    At last, the Thin Man made a little clicking sound and the entire fiber of his being loosened. His head dipped, chin hitting his chest with an audible thump. The static on the air evaporated by a margin, to a more bearable haze. It wasn’t so piercing for Mono now.

    A little shaken but all right, Mono crept away from the Thin Man and slipped up to the chair’s arm. He sat and heaved out a deep sigh. Okay. Good. Rather chew on his bandage, he opted to gnaw splinters out of his palms. It was all good. That wasn’t too bad. Some had been worse. More jittery, the man in the hat stayed spooky and distorted.

    He’s not sure if his meager efforts helped. There wasn’t a real way to deal with the dreams, aside from ‘die’ in the nightmare and wake up. The lurking terrors hurt, and too much could be dangerous. Some kids lost their minds to them, drove them to desperation and insanity. He was fortunate he’d first smother himself dead than get to thrashing. Kept him alive this long.

    The window glistened, a soft twitter of rain pelted across the dingy glass. He couldn't see the Signal Tower from here, only when they went out into the roads. The man in the hat didn't like it to watch. Avoided it. But did look its way, when he thought Mono was not watch. He wouldn't venture too near it's area, but foods and stable places became difficult to secure. And the Viewers —

  “Mono?”

    He shot off the chair before the stark whir of static registered. The mattress breaks his fall but not by much, its so saturated and near calcified.

    “Shouldn’t play. You need to rest,” yawned the Thin Man.

  “Aam’watch,” Mono whispered. He dropped off the bed and returned to the broken table, which afforded a slope to the low windowsill. Only low enough for Mono to leap up to, the table was steep and he could only crawl up so far before he slid down the dusty surface. After a few tries, he reached the sill with a leap. “Y’sleep.”

  The Thin Man was exasperated. Not this rubbish again. How was he meant to pass those dragging listless hours if he wasn’t allowed to shut his eyes and disconnect from this abysmal world? This… counterproductive child. “Mono. Neither of us need to watch. It is safe.”

  The child tipped forward on the sill edge, as if ready to topple head and heels to the floor. “Not n’safe.”

  “I am not arguing this with you.” The Thin Man rubbed his eyes. “You have to sleep.” The child inclined his head towards him. “Do you understand safe? The danger here is in not getting enough sleep. You become careless, and get yourself beat up. And I am tired of that.”

    Mono glared at the floor below. “Hurt.” At last, he plopped of the windowsill and wandered the room over. Pacing past the dresser and sofa, before crawling under the mattress. The little head did pop out a fraction, peering up at him. “Watch? Safe for.”

  Put off, the Thin Man sighed. “Yes. I will watch. Now please, you. For the Eye, get some rest.” The shape flittered out of sight. An invading silence followed.

  The Thin Man pushed himself up from the sofa and went to the bedside. He bent all the way over to view where the child was, nestled up against the wall. One eye cracked beside the coat, watching him. “Would you be more comfort—” When he gripped the child around the sides, Mono ripped loose and scurried to the furthest corner of the bed. He gawked at the man in the hat, like he was an unsightly concoction of misaligned mannequin pieces. The Thin Man extended his hand under the bed, but only a ways.

  “Aren’t you cold? You can come here.”

  The response from Mono was curl into his coat more and stare silently at the Thin Man. The long arm withdrew.

  “Y̴̟͊o̴͇̚u̷̩͊ ̴̢͘Á̶̹r̷̲̚ḛ̸́ ̶͕̓A̵͙͝ ̶̦̃S̵̬̔ẗ̵̨́r̴͉a̶̺̅n̴̲̊g̸̳̒e̷̹̎ ̸̻Ǎ̷̯n̵̺͒d̵̟͠ ̵͎͝P̵͓͊e̶̙͘r̷̛̻p̴͓͘l̷̻̾e̸̯͒x̸͓͐i̵͈͌n̸̋͜g̶͈̐ ̸̨̚L̸͕͘i̴͓̓t̸͚̒t̶͍̐l̶̨̇e̴̻̅ ̴̙̈́C̵̟͗r̵̆ͅe̴̠a̷͓̓t̸̫̓u̵̱̾ṛ̴̈e̸̮͌.̴̹́” He rose from the floor and surged out, reappearing at the rooms sole entry. “Sleep then. I’ll watch. F̸̘̈́r̵̞͝o̶̭͊m̸̱͋ ̵̤̊O̵̩u̴̖̓t̴̘͝S̷̢̈I̶͈̕D̸̼̏Ė̶̯!̴͙̒” He slammed the door causing the window to crack and the walls to shudder. 

  Mono cringed under the bed in anticipation for getting hauled out. He's relieved that doesn't happen, but the Thin Man is leave. Will the Thin Man come back? What happened?

  The room was empty. He crawled out from beneath the bed, but leaned on the bent leg. In case. He just… tried to have a think. Should let man in the hat hold him? The Thin Man doesn’t like to bother with him, won’t let him be close unless for company. This confused Mono. Company is an awake game. No books or anything for the man in the hat. Then the leave, but Mono was awake. Follow? Was in to follow?

  He surveyed the room. Empty. The curling whir permeated, indicating the tall thin man was not quite leave. Not yet. Mono would’ve been okay. If the Thin Man didn’t watch, that might not be good. He hurt Mono without meaning to.

  Across the room stood the mostly standing television stand and dresser combination, the burnt husk of the television atop. The dresser stand has one drawer fitted in the bottom, which isn’t flattened entirely. It isn’t too difficult hauling the slot out, and it clattered flat to the floor. He can push it all the way over the dirty carpet and closer to the sofa side, where it’ll be hidden by the mattress. Once it is situated, he can go over to the windowsill and climb up the sloped table.

  He inched back and forth on the sill, searching for the intimidating silhouette. The static buzzed at his skin, the Thin Man was not gone, was wait Where! A swirl of thick vapor plows a clue right through his range, and he can see a bit more of the figure if he mushed his face into the glass. The man in the hat was waiting with his back to the door. He likely couldn’t see Mono.

  Nonetheless, Mono waved his arms in an animated fashion and stood up, also flashing the edges of his coat. Anything, but knocking on the glass. That wouldn’t be smart.

  By some good fortune, the Thin Man did catch a view of Mono, and shifted the glinting eye under the hat bill to view the child. The end of his cigarette gleamed.

  Mono fogged the glass and quickly etched in a good speek of the Thin Man. He kept fogging the glass, to keep the speek pronounced despite how dim it was. He looked from it to the Thin Man, and the figure outside only watched this playout. Unmoved. Mono… decided he didn’t like the way the Thin Man glared at him.

  With great care he eased down from the windowsill and snuck over to the drawer beside the sofa.

  Shouldn’t have done that. Stupid. If the Thin Man wanted to grab, then let. He won’t hurt. Dream haunt could’ve bothered him. It didn’t seem to, but the man in the hat pretended a lot of things did not bother. Except, he didn’t pretend to be okay with Mono. They went everywhere but reached nowhere. Too great a danger in stop. Though, he thinks the Thin Man wanted to not go anywhere anymore. He was always rest, seemed so spent. Dream haunts... they were hard.

  The relocated drawer had three walls, not a complete box, but it would do. He flopped into the bottom and tucked into a corner, with only his thoughts, pondering and puzzling. How to do better for the Thin Man? There had to be a foods even he would like. Something that interested the Thin Man, might be more appealing. Those stick things. Did he eat those? He didn’t know where they came from, or if he’d ever seen something like them anywhere.

  For the time, Mono can’t think of anything else. He’s too frazzled and weary. When they go back to the roads, he’ll try and find something, when he has a chance for scout. It was time to quiet his thoughts, and do half sleep. It feels good to rest. He dreams about the chair. It is there, sometimes in a flash of static of the television screens. Waiting. He appreciates how it does that.

  It is waiting for him, and that is very comforting. It’s a good feeling to be wanted.

Next

[hoodieimp]

Hi @tanteichan1412! I’m your Secret Satan!

This is a tad bit late but only because I ended up going ABSOLUTELY HAM on the prompt lmao

Hope you enjoy!

///

Buddy was in trouble. 

It was supposed to be just another supply run. Nothing too exciting. Leave the safehouse, venture down into the unknown, grab whatever he could carry, and head back without getting caught. 

Except this time, he couldn't get back. Which was impossible--no matter how mazelike and confusing these lower floors got, there was always the elevator room at the center of everything, like an anchor. 

But now, somehow, the elevator had vanished.

Buddy had simply tried retracing his steps at first, thinking he'd gotten turned around. That lasted all of five minutes before he realized he'd walked past the same Miracle Station three times in a row. 

Was the studio alive somehow?

He imagined the rooms shuffling around like a deck of cards, rearranging themselves to trap him, boxing him into a corner while that demon slowly closed in, inky dark shadows sweeping round to the sound of a booming heartbeat--

Buddy jolted back to himself. Dimly, he realized his own heart was thudding away in his ears. 

Focus, Buddy. Calm down.

Five senses. That would help. 

Touch: The weight of the headlamp bobbing atop his head. A stack of objects in his arms, his pitiful attempt at “supplies”: moldering books, a couple of bones (best not to think too hard about where those came from, or how tasty he found them), sloshing inkwells (handled with extreme care), and an old radio. 

Sound: Floorboards creaking. The groans of the building as it settled. Ink gurgling in the pipes overhead. No demon heartbeat or hissing breathing, thankfully. 

Smell: Ink, omnipresent and chemical. Nothing new there. 

Sight: The corridor twisting off into the darkness ahead. Peeling posters on the walls. Everything colored in the same dull shades of sepia as the rest of this bizarre underworld. Like something out of a comic strip, not a real building. 

Taste: Nothing. Even the awful salty aftertaste of bacon soup had long since faded from the back of his throat. 

At the thought of soup, his stomach growled, low and plaintive. Right, that was another problem. He hadn't come across a vending machine in a while. Lately, whenever he tried to go for too long without eating, the half-aware fragment of Boris that shared his head would start clamouring and making it hard for him to think straight. 

Even now, Buddy could feel the alien prickling in the back of his mind, demanding he start sniffing out his next snack. He mentally pushed it away, but he had the feeling Boris wouldn't stay quiet for long. 

He couldn't afford to lose himself right now. Not until he found the way back…

“Hello…?”

Buddy's ears shot up.

He had to be imagining things, right? That was probably just an echo, or some trick of the pipes. There was no way he’d just heard--

"Is someone there? Hello?”

He definitely wasn't imagining it. That was a voice, a girl's voice, coming from somewhere nearby.

Could it be…?

Without even thinking, Buddy found himself sprinting down the corridor in his usual galumphing run, his appetite all but forgotten, items jingling and clanking about in his arms as he swayed comically in an effort to keep his balance. The headlamp bounced off his head and clattered away unheeded.     

He skidded around the corner on one foot--and there she was, standing in a little alcove with her back to him. He barely even slowed down as he bounded towards her, wishing, hoping with the whole of his heart, crying out over and over: Dot, Dot, it's me, it's Buddy, I found you, I--!!

She spun around.

He skidded to a halt as realization hit him like a load of bricks. 

That wasn't Dot. 

Even with the ink steadily washing away his old life, Buddy could still murkily recall Dot, her blonde hair and flashing glasses. The girl before him had hair as dark as...well, ink, falling in elaborate curls around her face, and a notable lack of glasses. 

And her eyes…

They glowed, a flat pupil-less gold like a pair of lamps. He'd seen eyes like that before--on the poor lost souls that wandered the halls, ink-drenched and wailing. 

Not on a human being. 

Was she even human...? 

He took a step towards this stranger to peer closer, momentarily forgetting how odd and intimidating he must look, as a gangly cartoon wolf with an armful of bones. 

"Stay back!" She brandished something--a bizarre-looking tangle of pipes with a wire antenna sticking out of it, sizzling and throwing off sparks like a cattle prod. It was undoubtedly some sort of weapon. 

Buddy immediately backed off, ears wilting, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. The girl lowered the pipe-thing slowly, not taking her eyes off of him. 

"You scared me," she said quietly. Now that Buddy could hear her clearly, she didn’t sound a thing like Dot at all. Lower, more melodious. "Running all Hell-for-leather out of nowhere like that...I thought you might be, I dunno, the Demon coming after me or something.” 

So she'd run into Bendy, too. 

"You can understand me, right?” she said suddenly, peering right back at Buddy. “I’m not just talking to myself like a crazy person?”

Buddy nodded vigorously and tapped the side of his head for good measure.

“What about you? Can you talk at all?"

Buddy, foolishly, started to respond out loud, before he caught himself. He shook his head. 

Buddy held up an insistent finger. Wait, wait, let me show you. 

"Right...I should’ve figured, you didn’t exactly talk much in the cartoons, either.” 

Normally he kept a pen and paper on him, but all the pens were currently stashed back at the safehouse--not that he was heading back there anything soon. There were the books he’d collected--but no, he wanted to read those, not spoil them with scribbling...    

That left one other option. It was one the other denizens of the studio resorted to all the time, and not the neatest, but in a pinch... 

Buddy dashed over to the nearest stretch of blank wall, inkwell in hand. Dipping his finger into the stuff (he couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through him), he began daubing big, blocky letters, painstakingly spelling out a sentence:

My name is Buddy.

"Nice to meet you, Buddy." The girl smiled for the first time, so bright and human that it made Buddy's chest ache. "I'm Audrey. Er...forgive me if I don’t shake your hand." 

Buddy was confused for a second--until he looked down at her hands. Her entire left arm was coated in ink--no, was made of ink, from shoulder to fingertip. Veins of golden light spread from her fingers to connect in a brilliant spiral shape. 

Audrey saw him looking and flashed a wry grin. 

“Freaky, isn’t it?” She held up her strange swirled hand and wiggled the glowing digits. "I've found that cartoons like you tend to, er...vaporize when I touch them with this. It’s...not pretty, to say the least." 

Buddy grimaced. No idea what she meant by that, but it certainly didn’t sound pretty. 

He turned back to the wall and added a new line underneath the first.

Thought you were someone I knew. Been looking for her.

"Guess that makes two of us! I'm looking for somebody, too."

He cocked his head as if to say, Go on? 

"I don't know if you even know who he is, but...I was invited here by a man named Joey Drew."

Buddy recoiled at the name as though it were a physical blow. A whole slew of emotions--recognition, disgust, familiarity, fear--swirled through him, kicking up bits of memories from the depths of his brain.

Joey Drew, the visionary, the dreamer, the liar, the man who'd offered Buddy the world only to rip it all away from him in an instant, who’d meant to keep him as some sort of mindless living attraction--

He shook his head frantically, trying to clear it. 

"Whoa, whoa, easy there--!" Audrey automatically reached out to comfort him, but thought better of it and held back. 

"So you do know Joey. And you’re...scared of him?”

Now that was an understatement. Buddy could hardly even begin to describe how he felt about Mister Drew. It would take an entire hallway’s worth of wall-writing. 

Best to give it to her short and sweet.

And so he dunked his fingers back into the inkwell till they dripped, swiveled back to the wall (Audrey leapt back to avoid the trailing arc of inkblots) and started writing frantically, pressing so hard on the wallpaper that it tore slightly in places. 

He stepped back to reveal the hurried scrawl, much bolder and darker than the first, with the last 'E' trailing off where he'd whipped his hand away: 

He did this to me. 

Audrey’s ink-lined brow furrowed in a mix of concern and confusion. 

"He did...what?" 

Buddy made a whining noise in the back of his throat. Like some sort of vaudeville pantomime act, he gestured broadly and emphatically to himself--down to his oversized paws and raggedy overalls, up to his inhumanly proportioned skull with its big blunt snout. He gripped his floppy ears and tugged on them, hard, as though he could tear them off, peel away Boris’s dopey mug like the head of a costume to reveal his old human face--but of course it only brought dull, scalp-tugging pain. All the while he stared desperately, pleadingly, at Audrey, silently willing her to understand.

And just like that, she did, and her eyes widened in horror. 

"Are you telling me...Did you used to be someone else? Someone...human?" 

Buddy nodded grimly.  

Audrey was speechless. She brought her hand to her mouth, then lowered it, looked from her own warped fingers to the silently trembling figure of Buddy. 

"I...I'm so sorry," she whispered. It was an absurdly small, ineffectual thing to say to something so mind-turningly surreal, but who could blame her? She was talking more to herself than to Buddy now, sounding like she was about to cry. "God...Christ Almighty, Joey, what the fuck have you been doing...?" 

Buddy lowered his gaze to the floor, not sure what to do or say. The two of them stood there for a long while, caught in quiet, existential terror. 

Finally, just when Buddy could barely stand the silence a moment longer, Audrey spoke up again. Her voice was thick. 

“Buddy...listen to me.’

He turned, blinking through tears.

“I’ll be honest with you, I still don’t entirely know what I’m doing here, or what the Hell Joey’s been doing to create…” She waved a hand at the crumbling hallway around them. “All of this. But I do know one thing, and it’s that I’m not going to give up until I get to the bottom of all this. I’m not letting Joey fuck with any more innocent lives.” 

Audrey’s voice darkened with those last few words, and Buddy swore he saw her glowing eyes flare for a split second--but then it was gone.

“What I’m trying to say is...Maybe we can help each other. Work together. We could both find what we’re looking for.” 

She shuffled her weapon to her left hand, and held out the non-inked one towards Buddy. He stared at it, thinking rapidly, trying to parse this sudden turn of events.  

Maybe Audrey could help him. If she’d survived this long on her own, with that strange weapon and even stranger ink limb, surely she wasn’t a pushover. 

As for himself...he did know his way around the studio--current situation notwithstanding. He knew lots of hiding places, at least. How to sneak around where he shouldn’t, keep an eye out for the small things, get out of danger in a pinch…

The more Buddy thought about it, the more he found himself warming to the idea. It would be tougher to look out for someone on top of himself, of that he was sure. Surviving didn’t come easy down here. 

But still...he’d missed having someone by his side. It was comforting. 

Familiar.

And so he took Audrey's hand in his oversized glove and shook it firmly, just once. A handshake that meant business. 

To show he could be trusted. 

[just-call-me-johnny-archive]

The following contains mentions/implications of abuse, attempted sexual harrassment, mentions/implications of past sexual abuse/assault, graphic depictions of homicide/torture, mentions/implications of past suicide attempts, implications of police/military violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Johnny didn't learn for a while what the house wanted from him. It was clear that it demanded something of him. The ceiling seemed too low, mold-ridden even if he couldn't see any. The floors were freezing- wooden and splintering, but he hadn't bled once despite getting some shards embedded painfully into his hands when he searched the ground for his pencils after the moon went down. 

Every number he called about the electricity going out lead to a dial tone. His phone was strangely the only electronic- the only appliance- that still worked in the house. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been left in the bathroom to die and woke up with stark scars on his forearms, the shower curtain draped over his body, and the bathtub dry as a bone. And Vargas gone. For good it seemed. 

He almost wanted to believe it was a nightmare- that it all was a nightmare. So he tried to pick his life back up as he stepped out of the bathtub and went to find clothes and the thermostat.

One day, he found a bill on the table in front of the TV. He couldn't remember when he'd received any mail recently- let alone opened it. Even stranger than the bill was the message that had been printed on it. There wasn't any amount under 'AMOUNT DUE.' The only other print on the paper was red text reading 'UTILITY SERVICE TERMINATED DUE TO NONPAYMENT. REMIT PAYMENT TO CONTINUE SERVICE.'

There wasn't an address or a phone number to contact regarding the bill. Johnny was left confused over how to alleviate this debt. He didn't know who, when, where, or what. The only thing that he still had control over was the 'how.' He needed a job. 

 After digging around for a week or so, Johnny managed to uncover his portfolio that he'd submitted copies of alongside Edgar. He was not about to go back there- they loved his boyfriend and always doubted Johnny's judgment. 

There was a new comic publishing company; a start-up with a promising, rich CEO that was recruiting new styles. Macabre. Gothic. Grotesque. Mindfuck. It was perfect for Johnny. 

He put on the best outfit from his closet, something with a blazer and no rips in the jeans. He'd done his hair until the two antennae that hung over his face were hidden amongst the rest of his combed blue hair. Johnny walked into the office feeling confident that his second chance at life had been a blessing or a reward for surviving. 

Everyone working at the company currently was skinny, wired, and brutal. Nobody seemed to actually be creating anything- instead, they were all busy working on photo manipulation and advertisements. There also seemed to be someone altering a passport photo meticulously. 

Johnny's meeting with the CEO started off alright enough. The man listened to the artist speak about his work and he even asked a few things here or there. He asked something about the paint choice and Johnny responded in a way that he hoped didn't sound too try hard but also genuine. In truth, Vargas didn't let him use anything else.

Maybe he could sense that. Maybe the man could tell that Johnny was an easy target. Maybe Johnny had painted 'patsy' on his forehead in asshole-vision invisible ink.

Whatever had caused the conversation to turn towards Johnny's personal life- particularly his relationship status- was unimportant. He wanted to leave, but he figured that the man would probably ask that for reference purposes or perhaps personally-identifying information. Johnny told the CEO that he was single, recently left a relationship with his ex-fiance. The way that the man reacted should have said enough to him, but he tried to reason with his brain; he was overreacting. 

But to put it crudely, the CEO wanted fresh meat and Johnny was a free-bleeding fresh cut. Eyes still clear. Silent like a fish out of water, when he moved over and started massaging Johnny's shoulders, saying how awful that must have been. That he was there for him. That he was recently divorced himself. He understood. 

Johnny felt his hand being moved, heard a zipper being pulled down, and when the CEO moved his mouth to press against his ear, all Johnny remembered was that he had the other man's letter opener embedded in the space directly below his eye socket. He registered the crack of bone giving under unforgiving metal. The burst of red sprayed across his face and his shirt. The screaming. His screaming. 

He was on his knees over the blubbering, defaced CEO shouting out as if he was emptying every last moment of anger or shame or hurt into the puncture marks that kept adding up. Johnny wasn't sure if he was crying or that his body was finally catching up- maybe he was having a heart attack. 

He has no idea how long he kneeled on the grimey black floor of the CEO's office before he realized that nobody was coming. Surely, someone must have heard them. Was the police waiting right outside the door- bullets trained on him- ready to shoot to kill? The man who was under Johnny's blade was miraculously still alive- dying- but still actually alive and he only then heard the tiny whimpers of 'please, don't kill me' 'I'll change.' 

Johnny grabbed the man's stripped, bloodied face, digging his fingernails into the wounds, and his heart sung with the screeches that rung throughout the office. There was nothing else there except for Johnny and the filth disguised as a human being. 

He listened to him plead, held his face in his hands as the man continues to plead pathetically. Johnny's heart nearly jumped this time when he claimed 'he'd change'.

"No; you won't." His voice was venomous, low and angry in a way that sounded calm. "You will never change. You know what happens when I give people like you the opportunity to change? Do you? They stop for a little while, sometimes days, sometimes decades, because they're so fucking scared for their life. For jail time, for repercussion, Hell maybe for the Devil himself coming to fuck them up the ass for what they've done. But when the Devil doesn't come, when the tabloids remain silent, when the name becomes deceased or missing or disappears completely, you go right back to what you'd been doing before. You put your fingers or your face or your dick wherever you want because you think you're untouchable. You think you are above the lives that you've ruined. You think that they deserve it- or maybe that you deserve it for being so good for so long, right? Well, guess what?" 

"You won't get to do that because I'm going to end your life right here, right now. I'm going to end whatever cycle of abuse that may or may have swept you up and corrupted you - brought you to believe you somehow are entitled to this pain that you inflict on others. And I'm going to enjoy it."

The man was able to only let out a sharp 'please, no' before Johnny grabbed his skull and twisted it until he heard a snap and the person below him had turned into a corpse. Into a past tense. 

He was coated in blood. 

Johnny dropped the body unceremoniously before he shakily got onto his feet. It was copious. It was gruesome. He threw up into a potted plant near the door. He gathered his portfolio into his arms and picked up his application from the CEO's desk. Johnny slipped the single piece of paper into the paper shredder, watching it turn into dozens of tiny bits of future bunny bedding.  

He braced himself before he stepped into the workplace. He expected a lot of things. He expected to see a huge stack of chairs and terrified workers huddled behind them like frightened raccoons. He expected SWAT, FBI, CSI, NCSI, the Navy, Army, Air Force, Coast Guard, and the Marines. He expected to have a bunch of horrified, traumatized faces staring back at him.

Instead, they looked annoyed. And the only people who were annoyed were the ones whose desks were closest to the CEO's office door. They glared at him, sneering like he was covered in shit and not in blood. Then they were completely disinterested. He was just some freak. They gossiped amongst themselves, but otherwise didn't approach Johnny. 

The man tore out of the comic publishing building and ran all the way home. It was midday- in the middle of December or January, where the sun was absent and the wind was unforgiving. Johnny had sweat through his stained clothing and the temperature change between the outside and the inside of his house was minute. The only shelter he had from the Winter chill was just covering from the elements.

Johnny walked into the bathroom and over to the bathtub and tossed the downed shower curtain out of the way. The water was freezing and felt like needles against even his clothed skin as he attempted to wash away the blood. It streamed down, staining the white porcelain as it streaked off of him and into the drain. 

The man had put his head against the tile, directly under the showerhead as he held himself. His eyes were shut tight, so it took him a moment of brief confusion before he opened his eyes to the bright lights of the bathroom and a gradually increasing warm shower. 

The water was perfect now and after getting past the initial shock, he undressed and continued to clean himself off the best he could. All that remained after he finished was the blood caked under his fingernails. He would cut them later. 

Johnny dried off using a somewhat warm, scruffy towel, it had been hanging there on the rack since he first awoke in the bathroom. He wrapped it around himself before he explored the rest of the house. It was warm, and the lights were all on. The electronics were all buzzing in a way they hadn't unless in memories. He opened the fridge and found that the food in there had not rotted. He picked out some lunch meat from a drawer and savored the usually incorrigible processed salty ham. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. Or the last time he slept. 

He needed clothes. He needed to get rid of the clothes at the bottom of his tub. Johnny went over to the bedroom where he hadn't tread since awakening. The light was on. The bed was still done but looked slept in. He went and grabbed the first shirt and pants and underwear that he found and then quickly went to clean up the mess in the bathroom.

He wrung the blazer out, pink-red water had poured and then streamed and then dribbled. He repeated this with the pants and then the shirt and his underwear and socks. His boots were not salvageable. That's fine. It was all fine. 

At least for now he did not have to immediately worry about paying the bill. In fact, the house felt warmer when he returned inside after he buried the clothes under the dirt of his dead front lawn. Johnny found a new paper attached to his freezer. He figured he'd missed it when he first went for the ham. 

He took it down after he grabbed a bag of microwavable pizza pocket bites. Johnny didn't know what it meant and how it happened, but he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was given another chance for a reason. He gnawed at his fingernails as he watched the plate spin in the microwave and the house hummed with life as it was finally fed.

'PAYMENT RECEIVED. 

UTILITY SERVICE WILL RESUME AS NORMAL. 

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. 

THANK YOU.' 

[maple-writes]

Dissidia final week

this took much longer than I thought it would, but here we go! Thanks again @dissidia-writeblr for your patience hosting!

It’s been a great time!

###

Sitara and Zeth made quick on their agreement. Within the hour they led Richard and Volt out of the city, and not long after the four of them were out of Torr and standing back at the base of the mountain. After being in the city the air felt so much quieter without the buzz of little robots overhead but the peace and quiet didn’t last long though as a shadow fell chilly over the clearing. They turned, and Volt squinted up at the airship that blocked out the sun. Surprising for it’s size, it was near silent as it approached.

Sitara turned towards them with a grin and Volt tore her eyes from the ship.

“Thank you so much for letting me study your tech! I’m sorry about the officials of Torr. I’m going to have Zerith, the captain of this ship, send you to Velaris. No one will follow you there. It’s abandoned. There won’t even be any of the beings. You’ll be safe. And here.” She pushed a packet of paper into Richard’s hands. 

He held it carefully, lifting the tucked-in flap to peek at the papers. Volt watched as he scanned the text and his eye widened.

“This is all the information I have on your tech. I also wrote down how to fix your broken tech as well. I hope this helps!” She grinned as a ladder came down from the airship. 

Richard re-sealed the packet, returning her smile. “I don’t know what to say, thank you so much.”

Sitara didn’t have a chance to respond before a woman with an eyepatch over her right eye climbed down the ladder and smiles at Sitara. “Where would you like me to take them?”

Sitara pulled out a pouch of money and hands it to the woman. “Velaris. They need to get away from here.”

“Wonderful! I’ve already sent others over there to get away as well. They’ll at least have company.” She looked over at Richard and Volt and bowed her head. “My name is Zerith, and I’m the captain of this humble vessel. Let’s get going.”

Richard and Volt returned the greeting, and after a brief goodbye to Sitara and Zeth, followed Zerith up the ladder and into her airship. As curious as she was about how the ship worked, more importantly how to operate it, Volt was grateful when Zerith left them alone to rest during the journey.

She and Richard sat on either side of a little table in a small side room, quiet with only a faint engine hum reaching through the metallic walls. Volt’s eyes wandered. Panels set in the wall probably led to electrical controls, or… Something. This ship was so unlike what she was used to she didn’t even want to bother guessing how it worked.

The soft thud of Richard setting the packet of papers on the table made her turn. He nudged it towards her.

“What do you think?” Richard said. “Can you use this?”

Volt picked up the packet and slide out the stack of papers. It was thick, more pages than she’d thought when Sitara had handed it off. The papers rustled as she thumbed through them. Notes, diagrams, schematics… Clearly the girl had been busy, and she seemed to know what she was doing too.

Volt tucked the pages carefully back into their packet with a hopeful smile. “I think letting her look at you turned out to be a good idea. Its detailed, clear, and I think it might just get us somewhere. I’m sure for the parts I don’t know how to do we can find a technician who can. I know a few people.”

“Really huh?” Richard returned her smile. “That’s great news.”

It was, wasn’t it? Volt ran her hand along the edge of the papers. Maybe this whole ordeal would turn out to be worth it after all. It was a weight off her shoulders at least to finally be getting somewhere, to finally have hope that she wouldn’t have to worry about him breaking down beyond repair.

His chair squeaked as he stood with a stretch and a yawn. “Well, I think I might try and get some sleep. You should too.”

“I had a nap in the workshop.”

“Yeah, but does that really count? It’s been a long day.” Richard jerked his head towards the hallway. “I think I saw somewhere comfortable around the corner.”

For a moment Volt considered arguing, but then maybe he was right this time. She sighed, letting her shoulders fall as she slipped off of her chair and tucked the files under her arm. It really had been a long day.

#

Hours later, Zerith announced over the intercom system that they were getting close, and Richard watched the approach through one of the little windows lining the corridor towards the ship’s exit. They passed over mountains, deserts, jungles, prairie, finally slowing as the ship descended over a forest and Volt called for him to hurry up.

They reached the forest floor and just like that, Zerith’s airship was gone, drifting silently farther and farther away until it disappeared over the canopy. Richard craned his neck to stare up at untamed branches tangling from tree to tree, draped with soft moss and laden with verdant leaves. The sunlight that filtered through them reached his shoulders stained green and cool. Even the air felt green, refreshing and earthy.

“You know,” He turned to Volt with a grin. “Of all places to hang out and wait, this isn’t half bad.” He stretched his arms above his head, cracking at least three joints with successive pops. “Don’t you think?”

Volt shrugged, but eyed the ground-level ferns warily. “They really meant it when they said this place was uninhabited.” She swallowed and stepped just a little closer to Richard’s side. “I’ve never been much into camping, there’s too much that could go wrong out here, too much to think about, too many unknowns. How long are we going to have to survive out here? Is it cold at night?” She shook her head with a deep sigh. “I think I prefer cities, at least then I know what to expect.”

“Hey, at least there’s no one here to worry about.” Richard leaned out in front of her, hoping to distract her before she worried herself too much more. “How about we start by having a look around?”

Volt sighed. “Fine.”

She let him lead the way through the undergrowth, watching every stick and leaf and rock with distrust. Sure, she was probably right about some of the things she was worrying about. Neither of them really had a whole lot of outdoors experience, neither really knew how long they were going to be stuck out here for, but for now at least Richard was more focused on how springy the dirt was under his feet and trying to figure out what noises were birds.

He glanced back over his shoulder. “Hey, do you think we’ll see a bear? Like a grizzly bear? I saw some on an old TV show a few weeks ago and they were pretty cool, I hope we get to see one here.”

“What?” Volt shook her head. “No, I sure hope we don’t see a fucking bear. Do you know how big those things are?”

“But they looked so nice just hanging around that river.” He grinned, wide and teasing. “Wouldn’t you want to just go and sit with them? Just hang out with them and—”

Volt gave his arm an exasperated smack. “No! Do not go sit in the fucking river with a bunch of fucking grizzly bears Rick.”

“Okay, okay,” he held his hands up before breaking into another grin. “What about cougars? How about—”

“No!”

“But they look so soft!”

Volt huffed, though by the tiniest tugging of a smile on her lips, she wasn’t as frustrated as she pretended to be. “You know what?” She pointed at him. “Sure. If we see a cougar go right ahead and pet it, see what happens.”

“I will!” Richard gestured dramatically towards himself with a smirk. “I’ll pet it and it’ll purr and it’ll follow us around and fetch—”      

“I think you’re thinking of dogs now.” Volt shook her head. “But why not? Go hang out with a pack of wolves while you’re at it.”

“Wolves come packaged?”

Volt sighed again, but this time couldn’t hide an amused smile. Her steps seemed a little less stiff, and her shoulders a little looser. Richard smiled as relief spread sweet through his chest. It was nice to see her starting to relax again.

“Very funny Rick.”

“Thank you. Though I guess by now I’ve scared off most of the wildlife anywhere near—”

Shouts.

Richard snapped his head towards the sound, antenna by the side of his head fanning out and quivering as he tried to find the source of the noise. Volt fell silent by his side. She glanced between him and the direction of the noise, waiting.

“We’re not alone,” Richard whispered. “Something’s happening over there.”

He hurried forward as quickly as he could without noise, Volt following close behind. The shouts got louder, yelling, screaming, snarling, human. The trees thinned out and they crouched behind two side by side trunks, peering out at the edge of the forest.

Crumbling ruins of what might have once been a settlement stood covered in moss and writhing with people fighting inside. Looked like humans, humans fighting against…

“What are those?” Volt stole his words.

They looked like people, but with wings on their backs covered in black and white feathers. A lot of them, fighting against the humans in the ruins.

Volt glanced at Richard. “Are those, are those the beings everyone’s talking about? They aren’t supposed to be here.”

“There aren’t supposed to be people here either.” Richard murmured.

He leaned forward, shifting his weight to one arm and trying to see more of what was going on behind the ruined walls. Something to make sense of the noise and the fighting and the wings. Something wasn’t right.

“Whatever it is,” Volt continued, “It’s none of our business.” She started to turn. “Come on, lets-“

A flash of a dark ponytail caught Richard’s eye and he froze, staring with wide eyes and a quickened heart.

“Will’s in there.”

“What?”

Richard watched, eyes locked on as much as he could see of Will as he fought against the winged people. He looked different, and fought different, but it was him without a doubt. Out of the corner of his eye, Zero was there too.

“Zero too.” Richard’s voice dropped to a growl, something whirring faintly as systems started to activate. “I can’t tell if they’re outnumbered. We can’t leave them.”

“Are you sure about this?” Volt whispered. “We don’t know how long you’ll have to recover between now and when we get sent back home. They could return, whatever they are.”

“If we win now that won’t matter.” His claws dug into the soft dirt, tensing to charge, eyes locked on the ruins ahead. The skin of his arms flushed with blood shunted to the muscle. “We owe them don’t we?”

Volt nodded. “I’ll find somewhere to scout. Watch for me.”

Richard returned the nod and sprung forward, tearing across the short clearing towards the ruins. He leapt the wall and slammed into one of the winged people that knocked Will to the ground before she could attack again. He landed hard on top of her but she slipped out of his grip just in time, escaping with only a gash across her shoulder.

She spun to face him again just as he lunged. He tore at her outstretched arm and pulled her forward, raking claws deep along her side and catching against solid ribs. Blood smeared hot and bright against his skin as she stumbled back, light and dark patches swirling across her skin.

Richard rushed for her again until a flash of red hair and a shout made him whirl. Zero fought two of them, the winged people, his back against a solid stone wall. Magic whirled all around them, fast and violent and desperate.

He ducked around debris scattered from a collapsed roof towards Zero. One of the winged people turned just as Richard caught his elbow and thew her back. He turned on the second and his claws met skin just under her ear as he tore across her neck.

She staggered back, blood welling immediately at the wound. Snarling, Rick turned from her to the other but before he could attack the winged man kicked him back, thrust his arm and sent a shock of magic flying past his ear.

The stone wall collapsed on top of him.

Richard didn’t move, stunned under the weight of the ancient stone on his back. The rock across his shoulders pressed down on his ribcage. He gasped, head spinning when he couldn’t take a breath. The fans, why weren’t the ventilation fans kicking in? They were working just last week. He gasped, heart racing and frantic in his compressed chest.

He shook his head out and brought his elbows in, pushing up just enough to free up space to breathe. His arms shook and his shoulders ached as he caught his breath. Shit. This was going to hurt for a very long time.

His hearing came back loud with shouts and magic crackling through the air, and Will’s voice in his ear.

“—okay? Hang on, Zero! Come help.”

Zero appeared on Richard’s other side, magic swirling over both arms as he helped Will shift the stone enough for him to wriggle himself free. He got to his feet and shook off the dust and pebbles. Good, nothing seemed broken, structurally at least.

“Are you okay?”

Richard gave a thumbs up, scanning the ruins for more of those winged people. They must have been busy elsewhere, fighting within what was left of the building, because for now at least they were alone.

He glanced back at Will and Zero. “What’s going on?”

“The Chikara—those guys with the wings—they captured our friend.” Will answered. “And now they want to take our magic and use it to torture more innocent people and make them fight to the death for eternity.”

For a second he could almost feel cuffs on his wrists and the sting of cold water on broken skin. He growled, narrowing his eye as he caught a glimpse of one of the Chikara through the ruins. “They’re going to regret that when we’re done with them.”

#

Volt skirted the ruins until she found what was left of what was maybe a small tower, maybe not, but definitely tall enough to see over the rest with enough of a ledge to hide. She scrambled up to the top and ducked down behind what was left of the low wall at the top, watching the battle below through cracks in the worn wood.

Glimpsed through the cracks in the structure, there were humans, and there were people with wings, and they fought with what must have been magic. Well, most did. A few looked almost as lost as she felt, fighting however they could. It was messy, disorganized, and whatever it was they were fighting over, it must have been important.

She scanned what she could see of the ruins and swore under her breath. She couldn’t see Richard anywhere.

“Enjoying the view?”

Volt jumped, whirling to be face to face with one of the winged people. Black and white flowed beneath his skin like spilled ink and he tucked his wings behind him. She instinctively reached for her gun before remembering it was still laying useless at home.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. “What’s going on here?”

The man glanced down at the fight below. “This? This is a fight for our world.” He nodded towards a group of the humans. “These people are traitors dead set on destroying this world with magic they don’t understand. If you help us take care of them, we can help you get home immediately.” He looked at her again. “What do you say?”

Volt kept her mouth shut and eyes locked with his. What was she supposed to say? She glanced down at the ruins below as a movement caught her eye. Will and Zero helping Richard out from under a collapsed wall. She set her jaw and turned to face the winged man again.

Maybe he was right, and Will and Zero and all their friends running around down there were evil traitors hellbent on burning everything to the ground, but what did she care if something happened to this world? Of the two sides, only one had ever done anything for her or Richard.

“I’m afraid you’re too late to win me over.” She took a step back towards the edge of the ruined tower, glancing back over her shoulder to make eye contact with Richard across the ruins. Turning back to the winged man, she held one hand behind her back and beckoned for him.

The man frowned. “Are you sure? Don’t you want to go home?” He took a step towards her. “We can get you there right away, and these are traitors. They’re dangerous.”

Volt backed away, the back of her calf bumping into what was left of the low wall. “In my world I’m considered a traitor too.” She grinned. “A traitor twice over.”

A quick whistle came from the ruins below and Volt stepped up onto the ledge, her heels backed up against the open air.

“Tough luck.”

Before the man could react, Volt dropped from the ledge. Her stomach lurched until Richard broke her fall, catching her from the side and rolling along the ground. They came to a stop and Volt shook herself off, glancing up at the rooftop. The winged man was gone.

“Thanks, Rick.” She turned back to him. “How are you holding up?”

Richard groaned as he dragged himself up but stuck out a thumbs up anyway. “For now.” He grit his teeth and glared. “The Chikara tortured these people. They’re going to pay.”

“Do it.” Volt stood and offered a hand to Richard, her anger mirrored in his face. That winged bastard had the audacity to call them the traitors? “Tear them apart if you want, I’ll take care of you later.” She looked up as Will and Zero appeared, joined by others she didn’t recognize but were probably on their side. “I’ll do what I can, just give the word.”

[spyroforlife]

Oh no I wrote a full thing based on this post I did a while back haha enjoy some fluff that got more emotional than I expected

- - -

Dib was already ranting as he walked into Zim's base, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto a table as he crossed to the couch. “-got like three projects due within the week and end of the year tests coming up and Dad still keeps trying to get me to intern at his lab every weekend...”

“Did I fucking ask?” Zim snapped, looking up from his tablet with a scowl.

Dib just invited himself right onto the couch, flopping down and continuing to complain, “And don't even get me started on Dad nagging me about college...” He pulled his boots off and dropped them carelessly on the floor. Only when he had done that did he finally acknowledge the death glare Zim was giving him. “Call me pathetic if you want, but your place is about the only place I can go to get away from things for a while.”

“It's not my fault you decided to sign up for all AP classes for your last semester of high school,” Zim said, rolling his eyes. “Don't you fledgling humans try to take it easy during your very last year of adolescent schooling?”

“Most people do, yeah. But apparently I'm supposed to have 'higher standards' for myself.” Dib did finger quotes. “Whatever, at least it's almost done.”

“Right. Now if you don't mind, I'm working.”

Dib moved over to try and looked at his tablet, and got a boot in the face for his efforts. Zim hissed at him and Dib grabbed his ankle, shoving his foot aside. “What are you working on, huh? Let me see.”

“Get away from me, hair beast!”

They spent a few seconds wrestling for the tablet, Dib trying to grab for Zim's wrists while Zim kicked at his face and chest. Dib's superior height gave him quite the reach advantage, but Zim wasn't afraid to fight dirty. But Zim quickly noticed that Dib didn't seem to have as much energy as usual, and moments later his suspicions were confirmed as Dib yawned and took a lazy swipe for the tablet that Zim easily avoided.

“Ugh, I don't even care, your plans suck anyway...”

“What? Say that a little louder, you insolent piece of-” Zim's antennae perked as Dib slumped against him, body falling limp. “Eh? Dib-stink?” He prodded Dib's forehead and leaned him back, then realized his eyes were closed. He fell asleep?! That, or passed out. “Dib?”

There was no answer. Zim squinted in confusion, dropping an antenna to hover it next to Dib's nose. He felt air and confirmed that he was still breathing.

“You humans are so weak and pathetic,” Zim sighed, pushing Dib off himself and moving away. He looked back at his tablet, scrolling through the plan he was working on. But he kept stealing glances at his foe, expecting him to wake up any moment now, loudly huffing and making comments about humans having zero energy. And still, Dib slept.

Honestly, it was sad. Zim enjoyed their rivalry, he used to find it annoying but now he looked forward to matching wits and might with the human. He greatly respected him as an enemy and even trusted him as a friend. Well, kind of. It was complicated, but Zim did know he could rely on Dib to help him when he had no other options, and he liked spending time with the other. They've had many deep discussions in recent years and it was pleasant spending time with another intellectual. Not that Zim would ever admit that out loud.

So, rather than feel glad that Dib was quiet and nonthreatening right now, Zim found himself feeling disappointed. That hadn't been much of a fight. Nowhere near as glorious as their battles usually were. They needed to settle it properly. And to do that, Dib would need to be properly rested.

Zim set his tablet aside and picked up the remote to lower the volume on the TV. It was getting dark outside, so he asked Computer to dim the lights in the living room. Once that was done, Zim shifted closer to Dib, examining him curiously. The human looked rather peaceful, his expression calm and without the stress he so often carried these days. Zim carefully took his glasses off and put them aside, then kept gazing at his face. It was strange that Dib would leave himself vulnerable like this. But then, he didn't seem to fall asleep by choice. He really was that exhausted.

Zim's gaze traveled further. The other was laying on his side, curled up a bit, knees pulled up against his chest and head resting on an arm. It was almost... cute.

Zim growled at himself and tore his eyes away. He was not going to entertain that line of thought anymore. Of course Dib wasn't cute. He was a gross, primitive alien that was going to belong to the Irken Empire one day. Zim might even force him to be his personal slave as payback for all the trouble he's caused him. Sure, Dib was tall, and smart, and he had that delightful sharpness to his eyes and a sort of weird quirk to the corner of his lip when he smiled that was positively delightful and-

And Zim forcibly derailed that train of thought and tried to ignore how his face grew warm and tingly.

Dib groaned and shifted around, and Zim saw him shift his head off his arm, though he continued sleeping. He looked uncomfortable though, his head tilted at an odd angle. Humans generally slept with pillows. Perhaps they needed their heads elevated while sleeping, Zim reasoned. He debated over what to do next, he could easily just grab Dib's coat and fold that up to put under his head, or he could let Dib rest against him...

He sighed and added this to the long list of things his enemy would have to suffer for, and moved closer, pulling Dib's head up onto his lap. He looked ahead at the quiet TV, mumbling to himself about all the shortcomings of humanity. His attempt to distract himself from the awkward situation failed. The show was boring and his mind wandered to how nice it was having the other's weight on him, his warmth seeping through Zim's clothes, and when Zim let his right hand rest on Dib's shoulder, he felt the other gently shift in closer to him, body curling up even more.

Zim's face grew warmer and he asked himself why he was doing this. Yes, of course he wanted his enemy well-rested so they could continue fighting, but... why was he doing this specifically? Why was he letting Dib lay on him rather than just walk away and wait? What did he gain?

Comfort, a small voice whispered. This was comforting. It was domestic and tender and... it made his heart ache but felt good at the same time. He shouldn't like this. Invaders worked alone. He was trained to be a single cog in the huge machine of the Irken Empire. His loyalty was to his Tallest alone. Irken soldiers were not supposed to desire companionship. It was an unspoken taboo.

Yet here he was. On a distant, unremarkable planet an entire galaxy away from his own. Sitting on the couch with an alien creature curled up next to him, asleep and trusting. And it was nice. It felt right.

“You're pathetic,” Zim whispered to himself. He could be honest with himself when no one was around to hear. “It was bad enough when you grew attached to GIR, and to Computer and Minimoose... and now you're attached to him? Your enemy? Why? What is it about him? You shouldn't be doing this. You need to shove him off. Tell him to go sleep at home and challenge you in the morning once he's suitably recharged. Just... just push him away. Right now.”

But he didn't. He stayed there, listening to Dib's steady breathing, even starting to rub slowly along the other's shoulder. His hand slipped down past where Dib's sleeve ended, fingers glancing over skin. Dib twitched but didn't wake up, and Zim figured the feel of his glove must have surprised the other. It probably was a little cool.

Zim lifted his hand and tugged the glove off, setting it down and moving his hand back to Dib's arm. He reached out slowly, at first only letting the very pads of his fingers touch the other before pulling away. As soon as he did, he registered the warmth of Dib's skin and the softness of it. Zim moved his hand back, now resting it fully on Dib, and he closed his eyes as he savored the human's body heat. How were they so warm? Of course he had studied human vital signs and knew what their internal temperature was, but to think they were so warm even on their skin like this...

Zim's internal argument continued to rage. This was unacceptable. He was out of uniform for one, but also, his hands were sensitive and he was opening himself up to injury or disease by touching an alien lifeform without a glove!

“Disgusting, putrid, inferior creature,” he murmured as he slowly began petting Dib's arm. “How dare you give me these feelings. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't want to do this. I should throw you out the door right now.”

Dib slept on, peacefully unaware. Zim curiously moved his hand up, drifting his fingers against Dib's hair instead. He covered his mouth to muffle the shocked noise that escaped him. It was even softer than the skin! Well, perhaps it was a little messy, matted in places and definitely could be washed more often... but he still found himself fascinated with the texture, running his fingers through it over and over again. He's grabbed Dib by the hair before, yanked him around, or just ruffled it to tease him. But that was always with his gloves on. He never realized just how soft the other's hair was until now.

He decided to just stop arguing with himself. His feelings right now were new and confusing and he just didn't want to deal with it. He was going to stay in the moment, enjoying the feel of Dib's hair between his fingers and the warmth against his body, and let himself be content.

Several minutes passed. Zim relaxed more and more as he got used to this, leaning back and smiling when he felt Dib move a hand to his leg and just hold onto it, apparently enjoying their newfound peace just as much. Humans sure did move a lot during their sleep cycles, didn't they? But then he felt Dib's breathing slow further, and his antennae picked up the other's heart rate going down. Not by much, but it was notable. These were the signs of deep sleep, Zim had learned back when he first arrived. It was fascinating watching it happen naturally and not due to him drugging a human into sleep to watch the entire process on monitors. Entirely for scientific purposes of course.

This was when humans began dreaming, he knew. He wondered what Dib would dream about. Probably something weird. Dib was very imaginative and his many encounters with the supernatural probably led to some vivid dreams. Maybe Zim will ask him when he wakes up.

To Zim's surprise, Dib thrashed slightly, baring his teeth for a moment and groaning. His fingers dug against Zim's leg.

“What's wrong?” Zim asked.

Dib shook, muttering something that didn't seem to be English. It was just a garbled phrase that likely made sense only in his dream. Zim frowned. Was Dib having a nightmare? Why would he not just wake up from it, then? That's what the humans in the shows seemed to do, they would just scare themselves awake from their nightmares.

Maybe it was more difficult in real life. Should Zim wake him up then? Whatever he was seeing must be really distressing him, based on the tremors going down his back and the way he nervously kneaded at Zim's leg. Then again, if Zim woke him now, he might just get punched in the face. He's woken Dib up a few times before and the reaction was usually violent.

Zim chewed his lip as he tried to decide what to do, and while Dib's movements slowed, he kept shaking, whimpering now. Zim sighed and resumed stroking his hair, using long, slow passes that went partway down his neck before going back up to the top of his head. As he did, he began singing softly. It was an old irken lullaby that never quite went away over the generations, even as natural births declined and test tube smeets became the norm. The comforting melody persisted no matter how society changed and even now was used among friends and loved ones to soothe their worries. Zim had always liked the song but never imagined he would ever use it. But the words came easily to him nonetheless, and though Dib couldn't possibly understand the lyrics, he relaxed in response to the tune, his shaking slowing and then stopping altogether. He stopped whimpering as well, instead seeming to hum for a couple notes before falling silent.

“That's it,” Zim whispered, leaning forward and seeing that Dib's expression was peaceful again. “Those nightmares aren't real. You're safe.” He leaned back and continuing singing, closing his eyes as he did. He felt a little silly, but at least Dib could finish resting. And they could keep fighting. Because that's why he was doing this. To get Dib back into fighting shape. Yep.

It was about thirty minutes later when Dib woke up. He woke up slowly, feeling so warm and comfortable he almost didn't want to get up. Then he felt someone stroking his hair with slender fingers and heard a familiar voice singing above him.

He kept his eyes closed as he rushed to piece together where he was and what was happening. He had gone over to Zim's base to hang out just to get away from his own house for a bit. He had playfully fought with him for a while... he remembered being really tired the whole time. He must have fallen asleep.

He realized those were Zim's fingers running through his hair, unbelievably gentle and comforting. And that was Zim's voice singing in a tone softer than Dib has ever heard him use. He recognized the words as irken, and though he didn't understand them, he somehow just knew it was a lullaby. He's heard Zim swear at him before in irken, or mutter to himself, and it always seemed so harsh, but this was different. The lyrics were pronounced with trills, chirps, and purrs. He never expected to hear something so sweet from Zim. Who knew he could sing like that?

As he woke up more fully, his brain started going a thousand miles an hour. Why was Zim holding him and singing a lullaby to him? Sure, things have been better between them in recent years, but they were still enemies. Zim could have done any number of terrible things as soon as he fell asleep. He could have thrown him outside. He could have attacked him, or taken him into his lab to experiment on, he could even have seized the chance and killed him! But he didn't do any of that. They were still on the couch from what he could feel, his head was in Zim's lap, and the other's bare hand was playing with his hair.

Something about it really got to him and he found himself feeling emotional, chest tightening. He wondered if it was because he liked Zim, or if it was just that he was so lonely he would take any affectionate touch right now. Maybe it was a mix of both. He felt so safe here with the other, Zim's attention was bizarre yet very wanted and Dib found himself thinking that this was what love felt like.

And it was time to nip that in the bud. Ignoring that happy warmth in his chest, Dib opened his eyes and pushed himself up, pulling away from Zim with what he hoped was a convincing scowl. “Oh ew, I fell asleep on you? I'm out of here, I need to make sure you didn't take any of my organs.” He jumped up and Zim growled, getting to his feet as well.

Dib was partway to the door before realizing his glasses were missing and he still needed to put his boots and coat on.

“Forgetting something?” Zim asked, holding the glasses by an earpiece and giving it a wave.

Dib turned and went to grab them from him, sliding them on and then rushing through putting on his boots and coat, all while Zim teased him.

“Haha, so pathetic that you fell asleep mid battle, but now we can continue!”

“We could... or I could just go home, your lullaby really helped get rid of my stress. Thanks for that!” Dib grinned and ran for the door, swinging it open.

“Wha- hey! What lullaby?” Zim shouted. When Dib ran outside, Zim let out an irken swear and chased after him, hastily pulling his glove back on. “Get back here and fight me!”

“You gotta catch me first, bug!” Dib called over his shoulder. He couldn't help but laugh at the way the other glared at him. “And you might wanna put on your disguise if you're going to follow me.”

Zim let out a yelp and quickly ran back into the house to get his disguise. When he ran back after Dib, he was laughing, and Dib laughed too. “You're going to suffer greatly when I catch you, Earth-filth!”

“If you catch me, cicada!”

Dib may not know exactly why Zim chose to hold him throughout his nap and sing to him, but he felt like in some small way, they had bonded just a little more while he slept. And judging from the way Zim was smiling at him, he felt the same.

[delimeful]

not always what they seem (2)

warnings: inappropriate jokes, remus being remus, mild panic attack, fear, miscommunication

long overdue commission for @legendsgates​! thank you for your patience and support 💚

Chapter 1

-

Janus watched the giant creatures around them devolve into more of that buzzing, clicking language as Remus waved his arm around enthusiastically in response to them.

“What are you-- Stop that,” the emo kid hissed, his whole body going tense, and Janus leaned back slightly just in time to avoid getting caught in the half-tackle that Remus was subjected to. “What if they just asked who wants to be first to be dissected, huh?”

“Oooh, kinky,” Remus cackled from where the kid had pinned his wrists to the floor. “Do you think they’ll probe me first?”

Janus rolled his eyes, and then stiffened as a shadow fell over them. “Kid—!”

He could see the moment the red alien’s hand made contact, the kid’s face immediately draining of all color as those strange talons wrapped around him and started to lift.

Almost instantly, Remus surged to his feet, grabbing the kid’s arm before he could be lifted out of range. The hold was so tight it almost looked painful, but the kid clung back desperately. He looked smaller than ever without the bulky hoodie around him, his frame barely concealed by a worn, slightly oversized band shirt.

Remus’s face twisted into a snarl. “Hey, hands to yourself, you shitty Mothra rip-off!”

Janus quickly rose to his feet as well, looking up past the kid’s terrified gaze to see the alien had paused, it’s strange antenna protrusions twitching. The facial features didn’t give him much to work with, so he attempted to see what the creature was seeing, contextless: the kid tackling Remus for big showy arm movements, Remus coming after him. Was it trying to seperate them like a pet owner with a pair of squabbling dogs?

He shifted forwards, setting a hand on Remus’ shoulder and expertly drawing all attention to himself. Remus glanced at him and then reluctantly cut off his litany of extremely descriptive curses, though his grip on the kid didn’t falter. Janus tilted his head back to carefully lock eyes with the alien.

“No. Stop,” he spoke with a stern emphasis. “Put him down.”

He reached up to grab the kid’s arm as well, tugging lightly, and then repeated himself slowly.

“Double D, buddy, I’d bet all three of my balls that they don’t understand English,” Remus said, “no matter how slow you say it.”

Janus didn’t break eye contact with the giant, moving to point at the kid and then the floor of their enclosure emphatically. “That doesn’t mean we can’t communicate with them.”

At the perfect moment to dramatically accentuate his point, the alien seemed to concede, lowering the kid down until his feet were touching the floor. The guy tore out of the oversized grip as soon as it loosened, nearly tumbling head over heels. Janus caught him by the arm, and Remus took the opportunity to jump forwards and click his teeth menacingly at the giant hand. The alien recoiled immediately, looking much like an elephant shying away from a mouse.

“I volunteer to get probed and this is how you fucks repay me? Just grabbing kids all willy-nilly? Have some respect!”

The kid muttered something, half-lost under his panicked breaths, and Remus turned to look at him. “What was that, short stack?”

“Virgil,” he repeated irritably. “It’s Virgil, not ‘kid’, definitely not ‘short stack���. I’m twenty years old, for fuck’s sake.”

Janus and Remus shared a glance over the newly-named Virgil’s head, and that was enough to set the man off into another fit of cackling laughter.

---

Roman watched, enthralled, as the little creature bedecked in green threw its head back and made a hair-raising clamor.

Intriguingly enough, the other two didn’t seem to react too strongly to such a loud outburst. The yellow one turned its face to the side as its tiny features pinched into an expression that Roman couldn’t quite decode, and the shaky purple one’s pale face seemed to shift color as it made an emphatic hand gesture of some sort. Patton would be taking plenty of notes later.

The motions, the expressions, they were all intentional and full of meaning, just like the pointing and sounds Yellow had made when Roman had tried to separate Purple from the group. He still didn’t quite grasp why the other specimens had responded so strongly; Purple had clearly been attacking, though thankfully no serious harm had occurred thanks to Roman swiftly jumping into action.

“This is incredible,” Logan murmured from beside him, and Roman couldn’t help but agree.

“There’s so much to analyze here,” he mumbled. “Any small animal would flee from a predator’s grasp, but they recognized that we’re sapient, and Yellow even approached instead to mediate!”

“Yellow?” Patton asked, a bit of teasing in his voice. “I thought your nicknames were always a bit wordier?”

“I can’t properly nickname someone unless I have their self-presentation and personality, Pat!” Roman defended. “It’s more of a… designation. After all, I can’t very well ask their names, can I?”

“I mean, we could certainly try!” Patton suggested with an optimistic lilt to his voice. “I’m not a linguist for nothing, y’know!”

“It might take some time to communicate intent, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Patton.” Logan’s ears flicked at the pleading look the Nihl sent him. “Still, I’ll admit there’s… no harm in a first attempt.”

Roman unsubtly chittered a laugh at his coworker’s expense, and Patton brightened immediately.

“Glad that you agree it’s… wordth a try!”

---

Janus was drawn away from the amusing argument going on between his fellow captives (the topic being how old one had to be to be an actual ‘for-realsies’ adult, federal law be damned) by two of the aliens simultaneously making odd, dragged out noises almost like stuttering groans.

“They sound like fucking zombies,” Virgil muttered from where he’d appeared at Janus’s shoulder. He’d snapped back to watching the three with blatant paranoia the moment they were loud enough to catch his notice.

The kid wasn’t subtle at all, but it wasn’t like he was wrong to be on guard. They were still abducted, regardless of how fantastical or impossible their captors seemed. Seeing how significant the size difference was, they’d have to work on escaping through… more cunning means.

Janus carefully held his position as the three giants crowded around the enclosure again, ignoring the way Virgil reached out to grip the back of his hoodie, either for comfort or in preparation to pull Janus from danger. This time, the three chattered amongst themselves for a long moment before going quiet and turning to the multiple-armed one.

Automatically, the humans mirrored the gesture, and the recipient of their attention met their gazes carefully one by one before placing a rigid, vertical hand under their chin and holding it there.

“Patton,” the alien said, slow and clear. It looked at them expectantly, and then repeated the phrase. “Patton.”

It was definitely some kind of word, that was clear enough. When not caught up in the rapid-fire chittering nature of the alien language, it was much easier to decipher.

“Patton?” Virgil muttered, and then squeaked when the alien stared at him with sudden intensity, hands flicking up and down erratically. Except for, Janus noted, the one still under its chin.

“Patton,” it said again, and then lowered the hand. Next to it, the insect-like one put a much bonier hand under its own angular chin.

“Roman,” it said, with a few subtle clicks that probably couldn’t be replicated by human mouths. Janus nodded, the pieces clicking into place. “Roman.”

Sure enough, next to make the hand gesture was the last alien, who introduced itself with a note of rippling bass overlapping with something like Logan. It was probably a bit mangled as he echoed it back, but different vocal chords made things difficult.

“You communing with them, Dee?” Remus asked from where he was crowding over his other shoulder. “That’s no sign language I’ve ever used. You speak alien and you’re not even going to share with the class?”

Janus elbowed him off, and then stepped forwards, and placed his own hand under his chin vertically, studying the ripple of reaction that got from the aliens.

“Dee,” he said, choosing to use his nickname as he had with the other humans.

The aliens immediately dissolved into excited chattering, which Janus patiently waited out. His fellow earthlings were similarly surprised.

“Wait, they’re doing introductions right now?” Virgil’s head whipped back and forth rapidly. Remus was gleefully attempting to mimic the weird, echoey quality of the voice of ‘Logan’ and getting concerningly close.

The one with all the arms-- Patton, it was Patton, he needed to remember if he wanted to make any progress at all here-- let out a string of syllables, slowed down but still nonsensical to them, and reached out.

Virgil jumped back and Remus started forwards, but Janus cut off all movement with a quickly snapped “Stop!”

Including the alien’s motion. He resisted the urge to smile at the success, instead looking up at Patton and tilting his head slightly. “What is it?”

Patton didn’t understand his words, but the questioning tone seemed to carry over, and after a beat, they moved their hand forward again just slightly before pausing, as though asking permission.

Janus weighed his options for a moment, before stepping forward. Virgil, who was still latched onto the back of him, came along with only a single sound of half-panicked protest. Patton correctly assumed that this was Janus giving his assent, and moved their hand closer, much slower this time.

With delicate, careful motions, they pushed Janus’s left hand out from under his chin, and then carefully curled a finger around his right arm, tugging that one up instead. Janus realized his mistake after a moment, and placed the right hand under his chin instead. Patton withdrew with a bright hum.

“What is happening,” Virgil hissed, and Janus glanced over his shoulder at him. The color had drained from his face, and his hand was white-knuckled where it was holding onto Janus’s borrowed outfit.

“I was mirroring their… introductory gesture, I suppose, and it seems that the meaning changes if I don’t use the correct hand. In this case, my right one,” he explained. “They’re going to want to know your name. Do you want me to assist?”    

Before he could answer, Remus was bouncing forwards, placing a hand under his own chin to gain the aliens’ attention.

“Call me I-Am-A-Buttface,” he half-shouted, grinning wildly.

---

“Did… did anyone else catch that one’s name?”

Roman watched as ‘D’ reached over and tugged the other tiny alien back by the collar roughly before they could speak again, astonished by how the other only let out what might be a cackle at the rough handling.

Not more astonished than he’d been by the alien catching on so quickly, though. Logan had been rendered completely speechless for a record amount of time, and Patton was still happily waving his hands back and forth at the success.

D visibly let out a long breath, and turned back to them, placing the correct hand under their chin this time. “D,” they repeated, and then switched things up.

They pulled the rambunctious one closer and placed their hand under that one’s chin, too. “Remus.”

“Are they-- introducing the other one as well?” Roman asked, and none of them could answer. ‘Remus’ didn’t seem to object, though they continued to speak in that rounded language. “That’s certainly a bit... unorthodox.”

D looked over at the only unnamed alien, the angry one that was standing at D’s shoulder, and after a moment, they jerked their head strangely. D seemed to understand, and held a hand palm-up in that one’s direction.

The unnamed alien put their hand in the proper introductory position, and had a few false starts before finally getting their name out. “Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Patton echoed excitedly. “That’s Virgil! Virgil, D, and Remus!”  

“Stars above,” Logan said faintly, “they really are just people but smaller.”

Roman couldn’t help but agree with the astounded sentiment. It hadn’t really sunk in before, but knowing the personal names of individual members of the unfamiliar species… “This could have been a disaster. Why were they labeled as primitive? Did the recorders even actually observe the planet they’re from? This seems a little hard to miss!”

“Easy, Roman,” Patton reached over to run a couple of gentle hands over his agitated wings. “You’re scaring the little guys.”

Sure enough, when he looked over, he could see all three of the tiny aliens were staring at him. He clicked an apology, and then echoed it in Common. “My apologies, small friends.”

“I agree with you, though… We can’t treat them as anything less, not like the tests would have us do. I’m not sure what our next step should be,” Patton admitted, and they turned as one to look at Logan. The Glanrim had a recognizably enthusiastic glint to his eyes.

“We’ll have to present our case to the Council. If we want them to believe us, we’ll need sufficient evidence that our specimens are sentient, sapient, and deserving of the standard rights,” he told them, tail swishing. “Our next step is to obtain that proof, through whatever means we can.”

Roman and Patton shared a glance before nodding in agreement. They turned towards the aliens with determination, and then stopped completely short.

“We’re… going to have to find some method of communicating our intentions,” Logan said, tapping his fingers on his shoulder in thought. “I believe the lack of such communication is what caused Virgil to behave so timidly in the first place.”

“Yeah, just reaching in and grabbing them probably isn’t a good idea,” Roman admitted. “What’s the plan, then?”

“Well, this can be a test in itself. Assuming that they can discuss amongst themselves what tests each of us did on the first run-through…”

---

Janus stared blankly at the three hands that had been set down along the floor of their enclosure, palms-up, each corresponding to one of the aliens. He turned to look at Virgil and Remus, just to ascertain that he was seeing the same thing they were.

Remus tilted his head to a painful-looking angle, and then nodded to himself. “It’s just like those choose-your-own-adventure books, except with huge aliens that we don’t know the intentions of! Fun!”  

“Oh, so they’re insane? They’re out of their skulls?” Virgil asked, his voice upping an octave in disbelief. “They really think we’re going to just literally put our lives in their hands, after they abducted and tormented us?”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to have to do,” Janus muttered, and held his hands up when Virgil turned to him with a glare. “Just listen for a moment. What are they doing right now?”

“Trying to trick us,” Virgil shot back immediately.

“Getting handsy!” Remus offered.

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No and definitely no. They’re offering us a choice,” he clarified, “because we’ve done something to shift their opinions of us.”

“Some choice,” Virgil muttered. Janus pointed at him, making him jerk back slightly.

“Exactly. What do you think they’re going to do if we refuse to engage with them at all?”

“... Grab us anyways?”

Janus nodded, casting another look over at the waiting aliens. “If that happens, we’ve relinquished any and all control over the situation, no matter how small. Instead, we need to take advantage of this while we can. We’ll be putting our lives in their hands regardless, so it’s best to act strategically here.”

“Well, I know what I want.” Remus sidled a step away from them and towards the aliens. “Dibs on the hot one.”

“The what one?” Virgil gaped, and Remus ignored him in favor of getting a running start and then throwing himself directly onto Logan’s hand. Unsurprisingly, Logan seemed unsure how to react to a human sprawling over him like Rose from Titanic. Janus was too professional to slap a hand onto his forehead, but the urge was there. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulder when the kid started towards them.

“Forget it. He’s made his choice, and he doesn’t seem like the type to be swayed by common sense,” Janus said, rolling eyes and choosing very emphatically to not question his fellow human’s apparent qualifiers for someone being considered ‘hot’. “You need to make a decision of your own.”

Virgil shook him off, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is crazy. All of it. Forever. You know that, right?”

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, voice dry. Virgil shot him another look, and then seemed to actually consider the options, though grumpily. With his shoulders still up around his ears, he looked vaguely like a very angry turtle. Janus kept this observation to himself.

“Remus called the one with all the arms-- uh, Patton? He called them boring and said all they did was talk at him,” he finally offered, glancing over at the alien.

Janus nodded, keeping his own feelings on the matter off his face. “You want that one, then?”

“What?” Virgil looked at him, confused. “No, I mean you should go with them. You’ll probably have an easier time figuring out what they want from Patton.”

Janus paused, thrown off. “Hold on, that-- that leaves you with Roman. I… don’t think you’ll have the best time, considering.”

“And you will?” Virgil took Janus’s silence as the admittance it was, and nodded to himself. “I can do it. I’m tougher than you think. And anyways, if I let you go with him, he’d probably try to swipe my hoodie. Not happening.”

Janus huffed with exasperation, and Virgil gave him the closest expression he’d gotten to a smile yet before shoving his shoulder slightly and stomping up to Roman’s hand. The alien looked just as unhappy as Virgil about the decision.

---

“Well, that was an… interesting selection process,” Logan said, lifting up his hand slightly and finding that Remus seemed content to be toted around.

It was more than he could say about his own matchup. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he grumbled as ‘Virgil’ continued to stand there, tiny arms bundled around themself, tiny eyes staring up at Roman aggressively.

The little creature didn’t seem intent on even touching Roman, let alone actually being picked up and taken anywhere. Roman looked over to where D was seating themself on the edge of Patton’s hand like a king upon their throne, and then back to Virgil, who didn’t move.

Maybe they expected Roman to do all the heavy lifting? He carefully lifted his hand, curling it around Virgil’s tiny frame, and received a vicious hiss for his efforts. He recoiled, antennae flattening. He hadn’t even known these creatures could hiss!

“You alright, kiddo?” Patton appeared next to him, one hand hovering as a safety net for D. Roman pasted on a smile immediately.

“Of course! Just working out methods of transport with… Virgil. They seem a bit less charismatic than D when it comes to conveying intent, unfortunately.” The tiny creature continued to stare at him, gaze only dipping away to meet D’s briefly.

Patton studied Virgil for a moment, gaze moving between their hunched form and Roman’s fidgeting hands. “They might be a little touch shy. The transport containers are still usable, if you need them!”

“Ah, that’s right! Patton, you’re a genius.” Roman exchanged good luck hums with the Nihl and waited until he departed to grab the transport container and present it to Virgil. “Is this what you want to use, you picky creature?”  

As though to spite him, Virgil’s skin shifted to a paler shade, and they went so far as to step back slightly. Roman allowed himself a few frustrated clickswears, and then stopped as he noticed the creature stumble slightly.

“Virgil…?” he attempted the alien’s name, but there was no response beyond their rapid air intake increasing. They didn’t look so good.

Feeling oddly off-balance, he quickly stowed the transport container away, and kept his hands out of sight to give the poor guy some more space. “Easy, easy. Please for the love of all that is good, don’t die of shock on me.”

Virgil didn’t seem to improve at first, but after a moment, they started muttering to themself, and slowly but surely, began to return to baseline. Roman felt as though years had been taken off his lifespan.

“Alright, if you feel so strongly about it, there’s no reason I can’t improvise and simply work from here,” he rambled, moving a seat and a tray of tools to the side of the wide-low enclosure. “Logan wasn’t kidding when he called you easily startled, was he?”

Virgil eyed the tray with wide eyes, and when Roman picked up the thermometer, they skittered back out of easy reach, arms lifted in what must have been a defensive gesture. Like a frightened Arkbit, but less fluffy, and Roman had to actually try to coax them over rather than just holding them still for the process.

“It’s just a thermometer! It won’t prick you or anything, on my honor,” Roman swore, and when that didn’t do the trick, he used the device on himself instead. “See, I just place it against my skin for a few moments, and… there! A perfectly healthy me!”

He extended the sensor end of the thermometer in Virgil’s direction, but didn’t advance. “C’mon, just give it a shot. We’re going to need your baseline in case you get sick, and it’ll make it easier to get the others’ temps if you can tell them I’m not going to electrocute them or anything.”

Virgil dithered for a long moment, but Roman’s patience was rewarded when the alien finally stalked closer and smacked his hand against the sensor like a challenge. Luckily, it was precise enough to work accurately even with such a small specimen, and soon enough Roman has a temperature.

“Huh… you’re warmer than me and Patton, that’s for sure,” Roman mumbled. “Logan probably already has all sorts of classification theories about you guys, but I think it’s at least safe to say you’re mammalian.”

Virgil tilted their head slightly at him, and Roman shook his head. “We’ll have more to talk about once we actually manage to make a breakthrough on language. For now,” he held up a small scale, normally used for weighing precise chemical measurements, “back to the boring stuff!”

The tiny alien made a strange drawn out noise, and placed their hands over their face, but they didn’t get all tense and breathy again, and that was progress in Roman’s book.

So long as they kept making progress, things would probably turn out okay.

[jadynrosetta]

Creation of Eon + Species

This is an in depth look at my OC Eon from my sci fi story (title pending).  Before I get into Eon and his character and design choices, I want to talk about the species.  I love creating alien species cause you can pretty much do whatever you want and it can work. 

---

Eon is a part of a race called “Venni”.  Venni’s are bug like creatures that can be found in jungle areas on random planets.  They are very uncommon and hard to run into.  They tend to stay in remote areas and rarely communicate with anyone outside their species.

Venni’s are based off of praying mantis (note the wings and body shapes).  Males are built slim and are smaller than the females.  They also have longer antennaes then the females, however both use their antennae to check for wounds and also to check health.  Males also have wings and fly around.  Both sex’s have wire like hair that is worn in different styles and fashion.  Venni’s also have little wing like appendages below their ears, coming in a variety of colors.  They don’t really serve a purpose.

Other things that I didn’t add on this sheet was that they have pincers inside of their mouths, usually used for food.  They hiss when startled or angered.  Also their wire like hair sometimes reacts to their emotions (Example: Anger causes it to raise slightly).

Though they appear weak, Venni’s are amongst the strongest species in the universe.  Being able to life nearly ten times it’s weight.  They also can physically take on species much larger than them.  Adult Venni’s can reach up to almost 8′.  However they tend to shy away from fighting and like to stay hidden from danger.

Vennis live under the rule of one leader.  Usually the leaders are females due to them being bigger and, in most cases, stronger than the males.  Most live under a pacifest law and do not engage battle, usually they leave whenever war comes near them, this does not apply to all.  They also live more off the land, believing that the ground they live on is a living creature that they take care of in return for giving them shelter.  Though they do not communicate outside their species often, they are usually very warm and welcoming, as long as you do not disobey their laws and respect their leader.

---

Eon is a young Venni who meets the main team on a prison ship.  From just looking at him the crew could tell he has been there for almost his entire life, and does not know where he’s from or who his biological family is.  He grew to see his fellow inmates as his family and would often take care of them.  From a young age he had an interest in caring for others and would do his best to patch up wounds that his found family had.

Eon is extremly shy and has severe trust issues.  He also dislikes violence and reckless behaviour, which sucks for him since he’s the medic of a team of reckless pilots.  His body is extremely thin and malnourished, making him slightly weaker than others of his species.  He is disgusted by his body and hides it with very large, baggy clothes.  He has large scars on his back where they removed his wings while experimenting on him.  Also a large scar on his head he gives himself later in the story.

Eon stayed with the crew after they dropped off the other prisoners on a remote planet away from the war and asked to be their doctor.  Due to having very limited knowledge he tried to learn as much as he could while taking care of the team, his new found family.  

Eon’s design was based off of praying mantis and UB-02 Beauty a.k.a Pheromosa.  I wanted something that if it was real and it came into contact with humans, humans would be very afraid of seeing it.

Making him a medic also helped with the design, giving him antennaes which helps with finding wounds and checking temp.  I usually don’t draw the antennaes when sketching him so I can at least see what I’m doing, then add them on last.  They tend to get in the way.  The wings below their ears was something I added for aesthetic purpose and I liked them so they stayed.

His act 1 design has a large crystal on his forehead which was another experiment, but he tore it out of his head himself and patched it up, now it’s a large scar that he covers with a crown.  Also the dress was something he found on the ship the crew lives on.

---

I will hopefully do more of these for my alien species + OCs.  They’re a lot of fun to do and I love going into detail about their designs and their differences both bioligically and culturally.  I’ll probably work on these more while typing the story, as well as my pokemon project... who knows.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Galaxy Girl

Fox Mulder x Reader

Words: 2980

Summary: The Mulder family celebrates the eighth birthday of their daughter, Grace. 

Notes: Not much of a summary, but I hope you guys really enjoy this one. I wanted to write some fluff for Fox, but I also had to throw in some sad moments concerning the other kids at their daughter's school. Again, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! (P.S., I named their daughter after Grace from Return to Me.)

-

You woke up to feel the emptiness in your arms and panic sent through you. 

“Fox.” You whispered, nudging your husband’s arm to wake him up. When he didn’t stir, you spoke louder. “Fox.” 

“Hmmm,” He groaned, his eyes slowly opening. When he saw the fear in your eyes, he was wide awake. 

“Where is she?” You asked, searching every corner of the tent. A snapping twig outside caught both of your attention. Fox cautiously moved the flap of the tent to the side, stepping out when it seemed safe. The rising sun cast his shadow onto the tent, along with the small mass creeping out of the bushes. 

“No… please!” He exclaimed as the shape leaped onto him. Hearing him scream, you bolted out of the tent. Fox was lying in the grass, attempting to defend himself as the little creature tickled him. You sighed with relief and couldn’t help but laugh. “Save me! Save me!” Fox begged through his uncontrollable laughter, the masked fiend on top of him pinching and poking his sides. You lifted the beast off of him, removing the ugly monster mask to reveal your giggling daughter beneath. 

“Rawr!” Grace growled, pretending that her fingers were claws. You set her down and leaned so that only she would hear you.

“Tag team?” You suggested, bringing a giant grin to her face. You both slowly turned back to Fox, who had just gotten up. 

“What?” He asked innocently. You and Grace exchanged a mischievous smile. 

“Attack!” 

You both charged him, tackling him back into the grass in a whirlwind of tickling and pinching. 

“This isn’t fair!” Fox shouted through a chorus of laughter. Powering through your very brutal attack, Fox grabbed you and rolled over, turning the battle on you. Seeing that her team was losing, Grace quickly joined her father’s side. 

“Traitor!” You exclaimed, hardly able to breathe from laughing so hard. After a few minutes of tickling torment, the three of you lay in the grass out of breath but all with grins on your faces. Grace was in between the two of you, holding hands with each of you. You turned to her and smiled. “Happy birthday Gracie.”

You went inside and made breakfast- blueberry pancakes and bacon, Grace’s favorite. Fox and Grace sat at the table, drawing pictures of the tent outside. Grace’s had a small flying saucer hovering over it. 

It was her idea to camp out in the backyard, using a low hanging branch to hang the tent and bringing out the couch cushions to sleep on. Since it was her day, you let her decide everything- within reasonable limits. No trips to the moon would be arranged, but you would try to make it as special as possible. 

“So who did you invite to the party?” Fox asked, putting Grace’s drawing up on the fridge. Grace shook her head. 

“I didn’t invite anybody. I want to spend the day with you guys.” She was smiling, but her finger tapped her side. She did that every time you asked who had taken your best shoes and she told you it was the little green men. “That’s my perfect birthday.” You could just see Fox’s heart melt, kneeling down to envelope her in a hug. 

“That’s my Galaxy Girl.” He beamed. You felt a twinge in your heart, knowing the true reason why there wouldn’t be any party. 

Grace wasn’t the most popular girl in her third-grade class. You had spoken to the teacher a few times and she told you that Grace was being teased by the other kids. They called her names like Alien Girl and Space Geek. You didn’t remember eight-year-olds being so mean. 

“I hope there’s room for one more at this party.” A voice said from around the corner. 

“Auntie Dana!” Grace squealed, practically tackling Dana and her bags of presents. 

“Hey Scully.” Fox greeted happily. Clearing the table and putting in the sink- without rinsing them off, as usual.

"Can I open them now?" Grace begged. Dana shrugged. 

"Ask your mom." Grace looked up at you and pouted her lips, her green-blue eyes wide and pleading. Those same eyes gave you a wink, but now it was Fox trying to persuade you. You sighed. 

"You can open one." Dana handed her the smaller of the two bags and Grace tossed the tissue paper aside. Inside was a box of those little plastic stars that stuck to the ceiling and glowed in the dark. 

"I love them!" Gracie exclaimed, capturing Dana in another hug. Fox reached for something on the counter, but whatever he wanted wasn't there.  

"Where are my sunflower seeds?" He asked. Grace shrugged and a cascade of shells fell out of her jacket pockets. A guilty grin spread across her face and shook took off up the stairs. "Gracie Samantha Mulder get back here!" Fox chased after her and you and Dana laughed.

"She's just like him" She chuckled. You leaned against the counter.

"Sometimes I worry she's too much like him." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I love Fox." You sighed. "But he isn't exactly the most popular agent in the bureau."

"The other kids don't like her," Dana concluded grimly. To her, Grace was one of the sweetest little girls she'd ever met, but she could see why her interest in extraterrestrials and UFOs might not be well accepted amongst the other children. 

“According to her teacher, she doesn’t have any friends, the other kids pick on her, and all she does at recess is sit alone reading tabloid magazines.” You opened one of the drawers and took out a pile of invitations. “Her teacher found these in her desk.”

Scrawled across almost all of them were crudely drawn flying saucers with the words “Space Freak” and “Alien Girl” in big letters. Dana shook her head, her heart breaking for that little girl. 

“She told Fox that she didn’t invite anyone. She doesn’t want us to know that this is all happening.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “I don’t know, maybe she thinks that she can just handle it on her own.” Dana gave you a small smirk. 

“She gets that from you.” You laughed, knowing she was right. “Have you talked to Mulder about it?” You shook your head. 

“I can’t…” You looked at the picture on the fridge and smiled. It was taken when Grace was born. The night you brought her home, you found Fox fast asleep on the couch with Grace sleeping on his chest. “You know how he is. He would feel like this is his fault. Grace is his world. Besides, those 8-year-olds wouldn’t know what hit them.” 

“I’m about to call some parents myself,” Dana added, only slightly kidding. 

You put the vandalized invitations back in the drawer and the two of you went out to the back porch. Unbeknownst to you, after reclaiming his sunflower seeds from his thieving daughter, Fox had come back to the kitchen to ask you about the plans for the day. He came out from the doorway, having heard the exchange between you and Scully. He opened the drawer where you had hidden the invitations and felt his heart drop. One had the image of a figure he presumed was supposed to be Grace, but the bully had added antenna and pointed teeth under the words “E.T… Go Home!” 

He couldn’t believe it. Gracie told him everything. Why hadn’t she told him about being bullied by the other kids? Not only was Grace keeping secrets, but you knew about the whole situation and kept it from him. He put the papers back in the drawer, running a hand down his face. 

“Why didn’t she tell me?” He muttered to himself. The last time you hid something from him was when you were being threatened by a secret society to stay away from him. But that was years ago before you were married. 

“Daddy, can we go to the park now?” Gracie asked from behind him, making him jump. He pushed back all of his confusion and hurt and just smiled. 

“Of course,” He leaned over to be at her level. “We can do whatever you want. It’s your birthday, sweetie.” Her smile broadened and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was really feeling. 

“You’re the swamp monster!” She shrieked, sprinting out the door towards the nearby park. He tried to push everything he’d heard to the back of his mind and chased after her, making monster sounds that would probably concern the neighbors. 

-

The table was oddly tense while Grace blew out her candles. Fox was glancing at you while he crunched his sunflower seeds. While Gracie had a big grin on her face, you could tell there was another emotion hiding underneath. Dana, wanting to defuse the situation before anything happened, suggested for Grace to open her presents. 

You gathered in the living room and sat next to your husband, putting your hand on his knee. 

“Everything okay?” You asked, feeling a twinge of guilt. Once you figured everything out, you would tell him. He shrugged and put on a smile that you could tell was fake. 

“Yeah, of course.” The first present Grace picked was the second one Dana had brought. This one was in a rather big box that Grace tore open quickly. Her excited squeal told you exactly what was inside. 

“It’s a microscope!” Grace bear-hugged Dana and your jaw dropped.

“Dana, when you said you had a big surprise, I wasn’t expecting this.” Microscopes were expensive, even ones made for kids. 

“So you knew about this too?” Fox muttered angrily. 

“Too?” You turned to him with a confused expression. 

“Are you okay, dad?” Grace asked. 

“Nothing honey. Why doesn’t Aunt Dana show you how to use your new gift?” He explained, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. You and Dana exchanged a look before you followed him. 

“Fox, what’s going on?” You asked. He leaned against the fridge, crossing his arms. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that Grace is being bullied?” You stepped back, about to ask what he was talking about. "I heard you talking to Scully." He pulled the invitations out of the drawer.

"I didn't…" You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. "I didn't want you to worry. I knew how much her keeping this from you would hurt and I wanted to try and figure out how to handle it before I told you- which I promise I was going to."

"Jesus, Y/N, they're calling her 'Alien Girl'." He lowered his voice to keep from shouting. "That's my fault."

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" You could see where his frustration with you was coming from. He wasn't angry. It was guilt. 

“If I hadn’t always been so… me with her maybe she would be like the other kids. Maybe she’d be popular and liked, like you.” 

“You think I’m a freak.” A small voice whimpered. You both turned around, a horrified look spreading across your husband’s face.

“Gracie, no, of course not.” He stammered. Everything was just spinning out of his control. 

“You both think that.” She said accusingly, turning her glare on you. “Just like the kids at school.” Her big blue-green eyes welled up with tears and she ran off, disappearing up the stairs to her room. 

“Grace!” Fox shouted after her, taking a step to follow. You grabbed his arm. 

“Give her a while… she’ll be okay.” You said sadly. He looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but instead, he stormed off to his office to think in the dark. You groaned, laying your head against the cool countertop. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dana walk into the doorway.

“I’ll get the wine.” 

-

You lightly tapped on the door and opened it slowly. Dana had gone home and wished you luck. There was a single lamp on, besides the chair that faced the window. You made your way around the desk and knelt down. 

“Fox?” You began quietly. He had a pile of drawings on his lap that he’d been looking through for the past hour. Each depicted some alien or monster being fought off by a caped hero known only as ‘Galaxy Girl.’ 

“I never wanted her to change…” He said, turning to another picture. In this one, Galaxy Girl was accompanied by two others with the words Mommy and Daddy underneath each. “I just didn’t realize how much my obsessions were rubbing off on her.” 

“Our obsessions.” You corrected, putting your hands on top of his. “I’m just as much a part of this as you are.” You took the drawings and set them on his desk. ��I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He put a hand on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry I stormed off.” He moved off his chair so he was sitting on the floor beside you. “Do you remember what I said to you the night we brought her home?” You paused, thinking back eight years. “I said that you were my moon and stars.” 

“And that I’d given you a galaxy.” You smiled and laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. “She’s going to be okay.” He took a deep breath.

“I know.” He shifted, a devious grin spreading on his lips. “You know… I’m sure that if I went to her school and told all those kids they were under investigation for grand larceny, they would leave Gracie alone.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You looked up at him with a mischievous look of your own. “Say they’re parents are committing tax fraud.” You both laughed and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t get very many intimate moments with your husband, but this one was perfect. 

You and Fox went upstairs and made your way to Grace’s room. More drawings were scattered across her floor, along with different toys and art projects. 

“Gracie?” Fox called out. There was a dim glow coming from under her closet door, so you knocked gently. 

“Leave me alone.” 

Fox sighed and turned the knob. Grace was curled up in the corner of her closet, hiding under a blanket. 

“Permission to enter?” He asked. She threw the blanket down, revealing a scowl and a tear-streaked face. 

“Permission denied.” 

“Come on, Gracie.” He begged. She shook her head and threw the blanket over herself again. 

You blew out a long, dramatic breath. “I guess we’ll just have to open your present all by ourselves out here.” You shook the box lightly. Grace slowly peaked out again. “We’ll be out here… opening your present.” You closed the door and Fox gave you a look. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Just wait.” You whispered sitting down on her bed. After a few seconds, the closet door creaked open. This time, she covered her face using a piece of tape and a sheet of paper. “Grace, why do you keep hiding your face?” 

“Because I’m a freak.” 

“Grace, you know that’s not true.” Fox scolded. “Now can I please see my beautiful daughter’s face?” She nodded and he lifted the paper off, lightly taking off the tape. “Grace, what I was saying before, I just meant I wished the other kids didn’t make fun of you.” 

“Everybody has bullies, Grace.” You put a comforting hand on her shoulder as she sat between you. “Even me and your dad.” 

“Really?” 

Fox nodded. “Oh yeah. You know what everyone at work used to call me?” She shook her head. “Spooky Mulder. They thought I was weird because I’m interested in the unexplained. Because I want to find the truth.” 

“And when I was in high school, there was a group of girls who would spread rumors about me.” You figured telling her that those rumors falsely accused you of sleeping with the whole soccer team was probably for a different time. “We just had to learn how to face them.”

“But you’ll have us supporting you the whole time,” Fox added. Grace sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve. “We love you more than anything in the world, Gracie.”  A smile spread across her face, making your heart leap. 

“Can I open my present now?” 

You and Fox chuckled as you handed her the box. She ripped the wrapping paper, looking down at the image on the box. Without hesitating, she tore open the box and pulled out the telescope. 

“Happy birthday sweetie.” You beamed. She pulled you and Fox into a big hug. “This was the best birthday ever.” The hug tightened. “I love you guys.” 

-

Grace had just fallen asleep in the tent after you spent the rest of the night using her new telescope to look at the stars. You and Fox were sitting on the lawn, eating leftover pieces of cake. 

“So what did you mean about those girls in high school?” Fox asked suddenly. “I thought you were always Miss-Loved-And-Adored-By-All.” You scoffed. 

“Yes well, according to those girls I was ‘adored’ by basically every male athlete in school.” Fox whistled. 

“Damn.” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shrugged. “Besides, I never really liked jocks.” He moved closer to you. 

“Oh really?” 

You nodded, leaning in. “I’m more into the nerdy type. You know, the ones with offices in the basement surrounded by file cabinets full of conspiracies and unexplained phenomena.” “Are you making fun of me?” He wondered in mock offense. 

“Not at all.” He draped an arm around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. 

And that’s how the day ended. Grace was a year older and the three of you were closer than ever. You knew that it wouldn’t last forever. But for this night, all there was, was your perfect family, lying under the moon