#is that me heavily projecting? maybe. mind your business

[momolady]

Art the Orc

If you live in a small town, maybe you'll know this place. It's a little art store run by the same family for ages. It's not changed in all that time either. Picture it, feel it, you know it's the only place that sells that one supply you like. Now, imagine an orc behind the counter. Female Reader x Male Monster

The visage of the old place looked like it had once been a gas station. There was one of those big metal awnings and signs that gas pumps had once been outside. But everything else looked like the art supply store it was. The window was painted, done up with flowers and a flourishing font, but it hadn’t been touched in ages and was chipping and weathering away.

The old place had seen better days, you could tell. But you were excited to tackle such a special project with your own two hands.

Inside the place had a familiar smell of paint thinner, book pages, and coffee. You looked around the front as the bells on the door chimed. The old floor had seen better days and was worn out where you stood, even the welcome mat was hard to read.

“Welcome to Greengold Creative Station,” the deep voice came from behind the front desk where there was an open door. ‘I’ll be out with you in just a moment.”

“Take your time,” you replied. You continued to look around, noting the mismatched shelving and thrown together renovations dotting the place.

A moment later, a large orc came from the back. He was wearing thick glasses and had on a corded cardigan that covered a paint splattered t-shirt.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked as he adjusted his glasses.

You approached the front desk again, extending your hand to him. “Hi! You must be Mr. Greengold, I’m from Regency Renovations.”

There was a surprised look upon his face as he shook your hand. “You’re the renovator?”

You smiled, half expecting some reservation based on your appearance. “I specialize in business and storefront renovations. That is what you wanted, correct, Mr. Greengold?”

He fumbled with his words for a moment, stuttering, touching his glasses until he spoke. “Call me Art, please.”

You held it in, but he knew where your mind went.

“It’s short for Arthur, but it's also my dad’s name so my mom calls me Art. Yes, I know, ha ha, very fun. A man named Art runs the art store.”

“It’s an easy target.” You tried to squash your giggling but a few came out.

He sighed and shook his head. “So, you’ll be handling the whole store. I want it updated completely. It was fine for my parents, but I need to bring in a new generation of artists and online shopping is destroying us.”

“It’s a common issue, Art,” you didn’t look at him as you said his name. “I already have some ideas brewing and I would be happy to discuss your thoughts for the business with you.”

He sighed heavily, gazing out at a store that was once his family’s legacy. “I would say I would like to keep some of what my parents did to this place, but I don’t think any of it is salvageable.”

“Well recycling is a thing.” You replied. “Like some of these old shelves, the wood can be reused to create a rustic facade for the front desk here.” You patted the worn out formica top. “And the vintage signage out from can be reused and framed, hung just right behind you there.”

Art made a face. “You can do all that.”

You returned his face, adding a smug smile to it. “I can do lots of things, Art. My father was a carpenter and my mother was a viper. Be careful of what you inflict about me.” You patted your chest proudly. You knew you were small and chubby, not many people expected much out of you, but your work spoke for itself. And that was how you told people off.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I have a lot riding on this so-”

“So you hired the best. That I can promise you. Now I know you said you didn’t have a lot of funds, but I already have my plans made for how to help you with that. I plan on doing most of the work on my own, but for heavy lifting and other things-”

“I don’t mind helping with that,” he said with a shake of his head.

You had planned to bring in your brother for help, he enjoyed the destruction part of your job and he worked for free food. “Well uh…if you’d like Art, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I wouldn’t want you getting hurt on the job. It would be best if I helped out,” he said.

You couldn’t tell if he was being kind or underestimating you again, so you brushed it off and continued. “I would also like to film the process of the renovation. Stuff like that will help reach your new audience.”

He frowned, and his thick brows pinched together. “You must be joking.”

“I am not. You’d be surprised what the kids these days are watching.” You smirked up at him. “I know what I am doing, Art. Have some faith.”

His face read: easier said than done.

Discussion and planning was always the hard bit. You had to convince your employer of what needed to be done. Art was hesitant about some things, after all it was a family business and a place he had grown up in. But for the most part he was willing to go along with some of your ideas.

Art started the clean up process by first putting away his stock and setting most of the mismatched shelves outside. Once that was taken care of you began ripping up the old carpet and ancient linoleum.

“I remember when my dad put that stuff down,” Art said from behind you.

You looked up, eyes covered by goggles and mouth surrounded by one of those thick industrial masks. “Oh really?”

Art gave you a look. “Is all that necessary?”

“You’d be surprised.” You stacked another chunk of the linoleum to the side. “Lots of debris and who-knows-what is under these old floors. Decades of dirty shoes, dust, skin, and life are stored here.”

Art’s grimace deepened. “Skin?”

“Oh yeah, we shed like mad,” you laughed. “If you have dust in your house you can be assured it came from you!”

Art looked perturbed by this revelation but he continued in moving stock to the back and other store property outside.

Once the flooring was removed, you accessed what was underneath. It wasn’t marble or granite, but it was some type of stony tile that had existed when it was a gas station.

“Mom said it was inhospitable.”

You used a dust cloth to clean off a bit of the flooring. “But it’s easy to clean, and it’ll make the whole place appear brighter and bigger.” You turned and looked back at him, taking off the goggles. “It’ll be so much better in the long run. Plus! You won’t have to buy anything new except maybe a rug or two if you wanted.”

Art’s pinched brow was becoming the norm to see, but you could tell it was because the gears behind it were working so hard to process everything going on.

Once the tiles were cleaned and all the old flooring was hauled off to the dump, you started working on the walls, taking down slapdash shelving, and anything else hanging up. The old paint job, or jobs really, were layered on so thick and hadn’t been properly done. They had painted over the trim and electrical outlets, all of which needed to be replaced. The holes in the walls needed fixing too, and there were a few dents and scrapes from the years.

“You’re not hiring a painter?” Art asked one day.

You zipped up your coveralls and turned around to face him. “Not unless you want to shell out twice the money. Besides, I’m a good painter. A great painter even! Maybe not Rembrandt or anything, but I can handle a roller better than most.”

Art looked over your paint supplies. After days of you working on freeing the electric sockets and scraping the excess from the trim you could finally start working. You were painting the wall white, but you had found cheap sticker tiles to create a great accent wall, which could then be used for photo opportunities and special displays. Then another wall would also be painted white and used to display local artists and projects from the art class that Art taught.

“Mom always wanted to put wallpaper up,” Art murmured. “But said it wouldn’t be practical with everything we needed to hang up.”

There was a melancholy to Art’s face and tone as he said this. “What kind?” You asked as you poured your paint into the tray. “We could always find something close to what she had in mind for the office.”

Art glanced over his shoulder then shook his head. “I doubt I could afford it. I tried looking already.”

You put the roller into the paint, sliding it back and forth until it wasn’t too soupy. “Was this place your mom’s idea?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze going all about the store. “I can’t believe how empty it is now.”

“It’ll be full again in no time.” You gave him a reassuring smile when his amber eyes returned to you. “Do you have any pictures of your mother you would want to hang up?” you asked. “I can plan a special place for it.”

He huffed, seeming put off by this suggestion. “Excuse me. The smell of this paint is giving me a headache.” He walked off, stomping his feet a little as he went.

Art came back by the time you were finished with the first coat of white. You were sitting in front of the checkout desk, leaned back against it so your foot propped the door open. He stepped over your leg and looked at your work.

“The white really makes this place look…different,” he murmured.

“Don’t worry, there will be some color back soon enough,” you sighed. “Is your headache gone?”

Art nodded, leaning against the desk. “Sorry if I’ve been…obstinate.”

You waved it off. “I’m used to you.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been questioning and judging everything, all because I never really wanted to do this.”

You tilted your head up to look at him. “Then why are you?”

He let out that heavy, burdened sigh again. “Because it was in her will.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh.”

“She left me money, but only if I used a portion of it to renovate the old store. She said it was mine after all, it deserved to reflect the new generation. Even in death she was still hinting I get married.” He scoffed at this, but he still had a smile on his face.

“Sounds pretty motherly.” You stood up from the ground, standing beside him. Not feeling much taller than you did sitting beside his great size. You motioned to the front window. “Did she paint that?”

Art laughed. “No. I did. That’s why she kept it so long.”

Your smile beamed. “Really? That’s pretty adorable.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “For years upon years I’ve looked at that painting and wished every day she would wash it off and do something different. But I suppose her sentimentality was far too deep for that.”

“It’s a good painting,” you offered.

“I never thought she’d keep it so I barely tried,” he grunted and crossed his arms against his chest. “Boy, was I wrong.”

“Would you like to paint the new display? I was planning on just hanging a new sign and leaving the window clean.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

You patted his arm, and his eyes darted down to your hand, his brows unpinching for that one moment.

“I’ll wait till you decide then.” You stepped away from him, but his eyes still lingered on where you had touched him.

A few days later, as you were working on putting the sticker tile onto the wall, Art came from the back and offered you a ticket.

“A friend of mine has a gallery showing tonight. He gave me two tickets so I thought-” He hesitated and cleared his throat.

“How fancy is the affair?” You asked.

“Nothing too fancy. I mean, dress up, but not like black tie event or anything.” He cleared his throat again. “I was going to get dinner at my favorite restaurant since it was close by if you wanted to come.”

It clicked and you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed and your mouth started to go dry. “Oh. Sure.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “If that’s the case, maybe we should go in together. You know? Save the earth and stuff.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Smart idea. How about I pick you up tonight. Say…around six? Since the gallery is at eight?”

You nodded, biting down on your lip. “Yeah. Perfect. That should give me enough time to get ready after work.”

Art turned awkwardly away then back towards you. “Oh I uh, I guess I should get your address.” You traded info and the rest of the day went by in a jerky, tense sort of way.

That evening you waited in your living room until you heard from Art. You were wearing your favorite dress, and had even gotten your next door neighbor to do your makeup. You got his message and went downstairs to meet him at the front door.

Art was dressed nice in a dark purple suit and he had his long hair slicked back and tied into a bun. He didn’t have on his glasses, which surprised you. His eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Wow, you look great!” He said, a touch breathless.

You blushed and smiled. “Thanks. You look pretty great too. I’m not used to seeing you without your glasses.”

“Yeah, contacts tonight,” he said shyly. He then took your hand and led you to his car.

The restaurant was nice, the two of you had a clumsy start to it, but eventually you both started having an in depth conversation about color. From there, you both laughed and joked around, having a good time with great food and even better wine.

From there you walked to the gallery, meeting his friend then roaming through the show. Her artwork was lovely, but you noticed Art’s pinch brow had returned.

“A lot more nudes than I expected,” he whispered.

“I think it’s nice,” you replied. “I can see what her intent with the motif is. How it’s classic, it's natural, but also subversive.” You turned to Art, noticing him fidgeting and adjusting himself.

“Yes. I understand what she is doing,” he muttered. “I must have had just a little too much wine I think.”

You smiled at him, chuckling as your cheeks grew warm.

The car windows were fogged over, and in the dark all you could do was touch. His kisses felt rough but intimate. His tusks brushed against your skin, making your shiver. Every so often the darkness was halted by the motion light of the parking lot turning on. You’d still for a moment, then continue on with your youthful antics.

“We should stop.”

“We should.”

“Why aren’t we?”

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You kissed Art and breathed, looking into his eyes while you clasped your hands around his face. Maybe it was the wine or the nudes on display, maybe it was weeks of working so close and holding back so long.

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You smiled at him, kissing him again while his hands moved below. Your panties were pushed aside, his zipper brushed against your thigh. Big. Oh my god it was big!

You gasped softly and he stilled, watching your expression. You eased over him, taking as much of Art as you could stand. You pressed your palms to the roof of the car for balance, his strong hands kneaded into your thick thighs.

“Aren’t we a bit too old for this?” he breathed.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.” Your laughter turned into moaning. Maybe you were both a bit too old for this, but you’d never had so much fun before! He pressed deeply inside you, and his hands couldn’t stop touching your body. He roamed over the soft curves, and plump form, his desire seeming to grow the more he did.

The next morning you came into work, seeing Art standing in the middle of the room. You held your breath, wondering if it was all a wonderful dream. He turned and smiled, his thick glasses back in place.

“Hi” he said breathlessly.

Your smile bloomed. “Hi.”

Art motioned to the desk. “I brought coffee.”

“I see that.” You smiled and took a cup he offered.

He sighed then laughed and you laughed. “So uh…last night.”

“I liked your friend’s gallery. It was very nice. I also liked your favorite restaurant.” You took a sip of the coffee, testing it before you added anything.

Art nodded, his gaze drifted until it fell back onto you. “Is that all?”

You smiled over your coffee cup. “No. Just barely.” You looked into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate work topic.”

“Not exactly but uhm…I just wanted to check.” His eyes darted over you. “Were we really too old for that?”

You laughed and cupped your hand over your mouth. “A little. But I’m not too sore. Are you?”

“No. But I would prefer somewhere much comfier next time.” he leaned in close and you closed your eyes, accepting his kiss and the touch of his tusks against your cheeks.

“Yes, it would be nice.” You saw he had paints and brushes set on the front desk. “What’s this for?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I thought I’d paint the window. I got a bit of inspiration last night.” He grinned your way. “Plus, I think mom would like to see how I’ve improved.”

You grinned. “I’ll be very excited to see how you work. Outside a car at least.”

[maybegays-blog]

Ethereal Chemistry

Prologue

Lady Dimitrescu x Scientist! Reader

All Chapters

Warnings: Rushed

—

The faint hum of machinery filled the air as you worked diligently in your lab, surrounded by beakers, test tubes, and the soft glow of monitors. Your latest project was coming along nicely.

Just as you were about to delve into the next phase of your research, a familiar voice echoed through the intercom.

"Hey there, [Y/n], mind stepping into my office for a sec?" It was Alan, your colleague and occasional partner in mischief.

You paused, a mix of curiosity and caution flickering within you. Alan's sudden request for a meeting wasn’t unusual, to say the least.

But as you were busy with your project, annoyance built up at being interrupted.

‘Ugh, what does he want now?’ You muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.

With a sigh, you set aside your work and made your way to his office, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

Pushing open the door, you found Alan seated behind his desk, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are," he said, motioning for you to take a seat. "I've got something I want to run by you."

You settled into the chair opposite him, your curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind?" you asked, curiosity evident in your voice.

The man leaned back in his chair, his expression serious yet tinged with excitement. "You ever heard of Mother Miranda and the four lords?" he began, his tone measured and deliberate, curiosity shining in his eyes.

You quirked your eyebrow at the sudden question. "You mean that cult Chris was so worked up about?" you asked, a flicker of unease creeping into your voice.

He nodded solemnly. "Yes."

His determination seemed to intensify at the mention of Chris.

But there was something in his demeanor that set off alarm bells in your mind. The way he couldn’t hold eye contact, the slight twitch of his lips—it was clear that he was hiding something.

"Alan, what aren't you telling me?" you pressed, your voice tinged with suspicion.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting yours once more. "Okay, I may have... hacked into some important files," he admitted, his tone sheepish.

"You what?!" Your eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern coursing through you.

The gravity of his confession weighed heavily on your mind. You both knew very well that this could get him fired, or even worse.

"You shouldn't be hacking into any files, Alan! How do you ‘accidentally’ hack anyway?"

"I was just try’na gather information. You know, for research purposes!" His tone grew louder as he tried defending his actions.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, crossing your arms. "Whatever. Why did you call me in here?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination. "I have a plan," he began, his voice steady. "We gather the necessary resources and equipment in the village, discreetly, of course. Then, we'll put it to good use."

As he vaguely outlined his plan, you couldn't help but feel a knot form in your stomach.

This entire thing felt wrong. The risks were too great, the consequences too dire. But your colleague seemed unfazed, his confidence unwavering.

"Come on, [Y/N]," he urged, leaning in closer. "With your expertise and Astrid's help, we could make this happen. Think of the knowledge we could uncover, the things we could achieve!"

You hesitated, torn between your curiosity and the sense of foreboding that lingered in the back of your mind.

But when he mentioned Astrid, your other friend,(and his sister), joining the venture, a glimmer of hope flickered within you. If Astrid was on board, maybe together you could keep an eye on Alan and ensure things didn't spiral out of control.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded reluctantly. "Fine, I'm in," you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "But we need to be careful. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

Alan grinned, a spark of excitement dancing in his eyes. "Don't worry," he reassured you. "Together, with you and Astrid, we've got this covered."

[taevbears]

To Be Loved - 02

I want adventure in the great, wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader (a bit of reader x jungkook) ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.4k ⤑ warnings: discussions about physical/domestic abuse, descriptions of reader in a toxic relationship, hybrids are seen as sub-human, kangdae is still an asshole, please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: wow, i'm truly overwhelmed by all the notes and comments from the 1st chapter! it's always so nerve-wrecking for me to post new projects, and i can't thank you guys enough for sending me feedback. so i've decided to post this chapter a little earlier than i had planned lol. it's heavily about reader and the bunny hybrid rn, but namjoon definitely will have his chance to shine ;)

Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

“Where are we going?”

That’s a good question. The obvious answer is out of this small, provincial town. Away from Kangdae and his owner. To the countryside, in a bustling city, or a summer cabin in the woods. Anywhere, really.

“I don’t know yet.”

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you keep your gaze on the road. The hybrid is sitting next to you on the passenger seat, wearing some of Kangdae’s clothes, including a black bucket-hat to cover his long ears.

Hours have passed since you and the bunny hybrid left your home and hit the road. 

You’ve wrestled with the idea of packing your bags and leaving everything behind before. It’s something you thought about more than you’d like to admit. After violent arguments between you and Kangdae, where you’ve had enough and where he’d leave you to “cool off” and come back whenever he pleases, you’d throw your things in a duffel bag: clothes, toiletries, a hidden wad of cash, food, the first-aid kit, whatever you could get your hands on.

But every time before, you weren’t able to cross that threshold out the door. You weren’t able to do this alone.

Fear has a tight grip on you. Insecurity as well. Kangdae is well off and financially stable. He could get any girl he wants and make her feel special, just as he’s done with you and all the other women he’s cheated on you with. He has nothing to lose if you leave, but you’ll lose everything: your job, your reputation, your family, your dignity.

Kangdae’s family has control of every business in town. It’s hard to find a job that isn’t directly influenced by them. Your reputation would be tarnished as well. You’ll be the girl who ran away from the most sought-after bachelor in town, and people would think you’re insane. Your family would be disappointed, and you know that running to them would mean they’d just try to make you change your mind and go back to Kangdae before you make things worse. And if you’re not able to make it on your own, what then? Could you even come back to this town once you leave?

The hybrid follows you from room to room, nervous as he helps you carry your things into the car. There were several times when you had a moment of reconsideration, second-guessing yourself that maybe you can’t do this after all and that this whole thing is stupid and reckless.

But the moment you catch a glimpse of his hopeful, doe-shaped eyes, your morale returns. You weren’t able to cross the threshold on your own, but this time, with another person depending on you, you did. With the engagement ring and your cell phone left behind, you don’t look back.

Soon, you find yourself here. In a car with a hybrid, and no real direction on where to go yet. Your options are limited, and the hybrid’s even more so.

You’ve stopped at your bank and withdrew as much cash as you’re able to before closing the account. You’ve stopped at a car mechanic to check your tires and do a quick maintenance, as you’re expecting to be on the road for quite some time. You’ve stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy to purchase more bandages and antibacterial sprays and ointments before re-cleaning the hybrid’s wounds in a parking lot. You’ve stopped at a library to do some research on inexpensive hotels and lodges that allow hybrids, and click away from any shelters and advertised sanctuaries that the hybrid doesn’t look comfortable staying in.

It’s been nonstop since you finally walked out the door, trying to drown away your fears and doubts by keeping busy. By mustering your courage and being prepared.

But now, things have quieted down. There aren’t many cars at this time of night. Many people are in bed or are out spending the rest of their evening with friends and their significant other. Streetlights illuminate the dark roads ahead, but your mind wanders as the music quietly plays from the radio.

It feels crazy. You feel insane doing this.

What if Kangdae comes home? How soon would it be until he finds you? How long would it take until your parents notice? Or your neighbors? Or anyone else? Wouldn’t the hybrid’s abusive owner be looking for him too? Wouldn’t this be considered kidnapping? Rescuing? Are you going to be arrested if you’re caught?

Yet, as you glance at the hybrid next to you, you know you can’t let Kangdae or the owner continue to hurt him. You have to take him somewhere safe at least, and then you’ll deal with the consequences later.

“Do you have a family? Friends? A place to go?”

“No…” the hybrid answers, shaking his head. He doesn’t have any of those. Your heart sinks at the realization.

So, you ask him something that he can answer. “Are you hungry?”

The diner is relatively empty when you and the hybrid are seated. There are a couple truck drivers that are grabbing a quick meal and a cup of coffee before they continue on with their deliveries. A man in a janitorial uniform seems to have just gotten off his late shift and is tiredly eating a sandwich. And a small group of teenagers are enjoying a very late dinner together after a concert or party before they head home.

The hybrid makes sure that his ears are covered with the hat, tugging on the rim to keep it down as he glances at the warning sign on the window that disallows hybrids from entering the establishment. Though, the night staff seems too tired to really care or notice anyway.

“Go ahead and order whatever you want, okay?” you assure him, noting how he seems fixed on the page that lists their salads.

A waitress comes to take your orders and brings you hot coffee and the hybrid a glass of milk. While the two of you wait for your food, you’re so lost in thought, you haven’t noticed the hybrid eyeing you until he finally speaks up. “You’re so nice.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” you reply with a tiny shrug, grabbing the little cups of coffee creamer and packets of sugar.

“Not a lot of humans would do what you’re doing for me,” he says quietly.

Again, you feel your heart sink a little.

Hybrids have been around for thousands of years, yet they’ve always been treated as sub-human. For centuries, humans would overtake their natural habitats, hunt and capture them for sport or to make money, separate them from their packs, enslave them or force them into violence and entertainment. Co-existing with them is still a fairly new and controversial concept as the politics dictating hybrid rights and laws are a heated topic every year.

How much humanity or animal instincts hybrids have or not never really mattered to you. They’re still intelligent, some even more so than humans are. They look human other than some distinct animal features they can’t hide. Yet, they’re treated like vicious monsters, even if humans are the worst.

“More people should,” you simply say as you mix your coffee with cream and sugar.

Soon enough, the waitress sets a big bowl of salad in front of the hybrid and a plate of pancakes and strawberries for you. Just like before, the hybrid scarfs down his food quickly, barely letting himself savor the taste. As if he’s worried that someone would snatch the bowl away from him if he doesn’t eat it fast enough.

“Hey, slow down a little,” you warn him, and he immediately puts down the salad bowl. His eyes flash with guilt and fear, afraid that he made you upset. You offer him a small, friendly smile. “I just don’t want you to choke. Here, I’ll give you some of mine too. This diner claims to be famous for their hot cakes.”

The hybrid watches as you cut up a generous portion and place it on his plate. He still seems a bit confused and hesitant with your actions, but nibbles on the red fruit first.

“You’re nice,” he repeats, more as a reminder to himself than anything.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you with that mean human?”

Your smile fades a little. “You mean Kangdae?”

He nods his head, chewing on his bottom lip, as if he’s still a little nervous about making you angry.

You sigh. “That’s another good question.”

To be honest, it’s something you wonder about all the time. Other than your beauty, you don’t know what else he sees in you. Neither of you really have anything in common. His lifestyle indulges in women, parties, and whatever puts him in the spotlight. Yours is quieter, calmer, and ideally, surrounded by arts and books.

There have been times when it was actually nice to be with him. Days where he’s in a good mood and makes you feel like you’re the one. When his flattery actually charms you and he remembers things like your birthday or an anniversary. Dating him has also opened doors that you wouldn’t have been able to walk through on your own: your job under his parent’s company, a nice apartment in town, trips to resorts and beautiful places, financial stability among other things.

A lot of people say you’re lucky to have him. And at some point, you started to believe that Kangdae is it. That you can’t do any better than him.

Kangdae loved you, and you thought, maybe, you could love him in return.

Even if it isn’t what you envisioned love to be at all.

Things started to become worse after you two moved in together. His gigs as a rapper, an influencer, or a vlogger, weren’t making much income, and he refused to work under his parents, so he never contributed to the bills. He argued with you all the time: about money, about bills, about some random guy being too friendly with you when he’s taking your coffee order, about you spending too much time away from home when your company throws a mandatory get-together, about you not getting dinner hot and ready for him the second he comes home, about you always being too tired or not in the mood for sex. The list goes on.

Yet, somehow, he convinced you to stay.

Out of convenience. Out of the inevitable threat of financial instability. Out of knowing you’d be disappointing everyone who ever told you you’re lucky to be with him. Out of insecurity that you’d honestly not find anyone else who’d love you.

But the hybrid before you is your last straw.

He’s chewing on the lettuce. The motion of his mouth reminds you very much of actual bunnies as he continues to stare at you with big, round eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“It doesn’t matter why I was with him,” you decide, stabbing your fork into your pancake. “What matters is that I’m never going back to him again.”

“Did you love him?”

You frown at your plate. Other than what you gave to the hybrid, you haven’t taken a bite. “I thought I did. But now, I’m not sure. Love always seems so different in books and movies. It looks nicer. Warmer. Sweeter than anything.”

“I think love can be like that in real life too,” the hybrid tells you, seeming a bit shy. “But you won’t find it with that guy. You’re too nice to be with someone like him.”

You smile a little at that. Perhaps it’s because he’s part bunny, but you feel incredibly endeared by him. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“I’m good with any name,” he replies with a tiny shrug. “That guy… the owner… he didn’t give me a name.”

“Is there anything you want me to call you?”

The hybrid rolls his eyes to the ceiling and scratches his cheek in thought. “Jungkook. That’s what I used to be called.”

“Jungkook?”

He nods his head. A small smile forms on his lips. “It’s nice when you say it.”

You laugh a little. “Thank you.”

“No, no. I should be thanking you,” he insists, looking at you quite seriously. “I’ll figure out a way to repay you. I promise.”

“You already did.”

He blinks. “I did? When?”

“Earlier, when you asked me to help you,” you tell him with a wry smile. “I couldn’t save myself, but I had to save you. From your owner, from Kangdae, from all the other mean people. So, thank you for giving me the courage to get us both out of that situation.”

For the next couple of days, you and Jungkook drive as far as you can without much of a destination in mind. 

At first, the two of you stopped at different shelters and adoption centers, but there was always some excuse that made you pull out of the parking lot before you could even make it to the building. The place looked too shabby with faded paint and deteriorating plaster, or the place looked too sterile and heartless to be called a home. Jungkook didn’t trust that they’d actually take care of him, or you’re afraid his owner would find him too easily at that location. 

Eventually, you stopped bothering and skipped potential centers altogether. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems to rather be with you than to be dropped off at a mysterious and scary place, and part of you doesn’t even mind.

He’s good company and an easy person to talk to during the long hours on the road. Even when the radio is off, he’d sing to you or talk for hours straight.

Sometimes, he talks to you about what it’s like to be a hybrid.

“So, you can actually turn into an animal?” you exclaim, shocked by the news. You assume that hybrids stay stuck as a mix between human and animal forever. When Jungkook doesn’t answer you, you glance over at the passenger seat and see a black bunny with the same, doe-shaped eyes staring up at you. “Oh my god, you can!”

He transforms back in a blink of an eye, grabbing the steering wheel when you begin to swerve off the road as he shouts, “Be careful!”

Sometimes, you talk about what it’s like to be human.

“You’re actually a little weak, aren’t you?” Jungkook teases, helping you carry a pack of water bottles among other snacks and road trip essentials to the trunk. “Are all humans like this, or is it just you?”

“I can return the ice cream you picked out, you know,” you threaten as he loads up the trunk. “And the banana milk.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” he says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

Every now and then, you’d stop by at gas stations, rest stops, convenience stores, motels, and fast-food joints. It’s tolling on your body to drive for hours at a time, but the hybrid tries to keep you entertained. And you’re thankful for his company.

“I didn’t think you’d be into this type of music,” Jungkook admits as he fiddles around with the radio. The passenger side where he’s at is wide open as you hand him a drink from the vending machine.

“Why? You don’t like hip hop?” you ask, opening a bottle of water and glugging it down. The two of you are parked at a rest stop so you could stretch your legs and use the public restroom. 

“I like all kinds of music,” he tells you, his thin lips stretching to a shy smile that exposes his bunny teeth. He uncaps his own bottle and asks, “Who’s your favorite artist?”

You almost choke at the question. Honestly, you haven’t really thought about it much, but there is one person that comes to mind. “I don’t think you’d hear him on the radio.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Rap Monster.”

While traveling on the road is daring, fun, full of deep talks, laughter, and singing, it’s also a little scary. In the back of your mind, there’s always that fear that you’ll get caught. That the police would take you back to Kangdae, or that Jungkook’s owner would find you and force him back into more brutal fights and beatings. That someone suspicious would approach you when you’re filling up for gas in the middle of the night, or that you’d end up in an unsafe area.

“Don’t be scared,” Jungkook whispers to you, placing a hand on the small of your back. He eyes the group of men loitering in front of the motel wearily. “If they try to mess with you, I’ll protect you. I’m strong.”

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you murmur back, feeling a bit safer. Taking a deep breath, you briskly walk across the parking lot with the hybrid right behind you. Your gaze is kept firmly on the building, even as the sleazy men in front of it try to whistle and call for your attention. You hear them laughing at how scared you must look.

Had it been Kangdae instead of Jungkook, he’d either start a fight with those men and put the blame on you – claiming that you wanted it, that the way you’re dressed was asking for unwanted attention, that you’re trying to make him jealous by making eye contact with them. If he really felt like being an asshole, he’d shove you toward them until you’re crying and clinging onto him, and Kangdae would laugh and simply say you should feel flattered by the attention.

By the time you check in, Jungkook is already taking all your belongings from the car into the room so you don’t have to go back out there. He doesn’t question you when he finds you sitting on the bed and crying. And you don’t ask him about the redness on his knuckles when you check on his wounds later that night.

At the motel, Jungkook lets you take the bed as he plops down on the couch. It can’t be that comfortable, but he always insists on sleeping there, claiming it’s better than the cage he usually sleeps in. Your heart drops every time he mentions it.

Without a phone, it’s hard to keep researching hybrid centers, checking on the reviews, and looking up their locations. But there are pamphlets of maps, restaurant menus, and local business fliers on the nightstand.

“This place claims to be a humane shelter for hybrids,” you read out loud, looking at the picturesque photos of a variety of hybrids with humans: dog-hybrids of mixed breeds, domestic cat-hybrids with pointy ears and fluffy tails, birds with talons on their feet, and bunnies like Jungkook with long ears and a cute tail. “No kill, free-range, very thorough adoption process to ensure your hybrid finds a new forever home.”

“They’re lies,” Jungkook bitterly states without even looking at it. “All of them are.”

You toss the flier in the nearby wastebasket and sigh. “We need to at least look at some of these places. We can’t keep driving around like this forever.”

Jungkook peeks over at you. Then, in a quieter voice, he asks, “Why not?”

“I want to find you a proper home. With a home gym where you can workout anytime you want. And a nice kitchen with a full fridge where you can eat actual meals instead of living off ramen packets and potato chips. And maybe even a karaoke machine with colorful mood lights so you can sing your heart out,” you explain, imagining he’d have so much fun and be well-taken care of. “I want you to feel comfortable and happy instead of being stuck in my car all the time, and just wandering around aimlessly until our money runs out.”

You see the pout jutting out of his lip. “What if I just want to stay with you?”

“I’m not exactly living in the lap of luxury right now,” you tell him with a sad smile. It’ll be hard to let him go, but you know it’s for the best. Even if he doesn’t agree.

“Then what about you?”

“I’m… still figuring it out,” you reply, sighing again. Finding a home for Jungkook is a priority, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been thinking about your next step. “I have a sister who might be able to take us in for now. I haven’t talked to her for years. She might not even remember me or want to help. But I can’t think of anyone else. She still lives far from here, but if we cut through the forest instead of taking the main roads, we’ll get to her much sooner.”

His silence makes you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing: this is a bad idea.

“It’s going to rain,” he reminds you with a frown. You don’t need animal instincts to know that. The looming, grey clouds in the sky tells you that a storm is near.

Still, you turn on the TV to look at the weather forecast. “I’ll drive slow.”

“It’ll still be dangerous.”

Breaking news. Missing person report. If you have seen this woman, please contact your local authorities immediately. Last seen wearing—

You stare at a photo of yourself on the television. Your heart picks up as Jungkook’s eyes widen. If you thought the cops were after you before, they surely are now.

They’ll find you if you take the main road to your sister’s place.

“We don’t have much of a choice.”

A thick tension hangs in the air between you and Jungkook. It’s something that you haven’t felt since the night the two of you spontaneously decided to run away from your abusers. Every passing car has you on edge, making you wonder how long the two of you can pull this off. If you could even make it to your sister’s place.

Would someone recognize your license plate? Are the cops already on your trail? Would Kangdae and Jungkook’s owner be out there looking for the two of you? What if they catch you? What would you do then?

The windshield wipers swipe back and forth against the heavy rain, but it doesn’t do much good. It’s still so hard to see as your car pulls up to the road leading into the dense forest.

“Just drive slow,” Jungkook reminds you, his voice gentle.

You nod your head. Then, carefully, you step on the gas.

Tall trees cover both sides of the narrow road. Under much nicer weather and better circumstances, perhaps it would be a relaxing, scenic drive to go through. But as it is, it’s terrifying. And dark. You can barely see past what your headlights illuminate.

But at least no one is following you two. For now, anyway.

After a while, everything starts to look the same. It makes you wonder if you’re just driving around in circles. In the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook yawning and trying hard to stay awake with you. But the constant rainfall and the occasional rumbles of thunder seems to lull him to sleep.

“If you’re tired, you could take a nap,” you tell him. It’ll still be a little while until you get to your sister’s place anyway.

“No, no, I should stay up with you,” he mumbles, though his eyes are already closed. His head starts to droop as he nods off, but then, Jungkook suddenly snaps awake. His whole body stiffens as his hand shoots up to grab you.

“Ow! Jungkook, what–?”

Then, you hear it.

A deep, animalistic roar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your car halts to a stop. It sounds so close.

“Don’t stop. Keep driving,” Jungkook urges.

“Right,” you mutter, stepping on the gas again. You’re not even sure what kind of animal it is, but you can’t see anything but shrouds of darkness among the trees. Whatever it is, though, has Jungkook spooked.

“Faster,” he insists. His hand around your arm tightens a little. You push the gas pedal a little more. “Faster!”

Somehow, the roar sounds closer.

The two of you are speeding through the dirt path as safely as you can. Rain continues to fall without letting up. The heavy patter of raindrops hits hard against the rapid swipes of your windshield wipers. You can’t even see what’s even chasing you, but it has Jungkook terrified.

“What do you think it is?” you try to ask him, eyes flickering toward him worriedly.

“I don’t know, but— WATCH OUT!”

A deer is in the middle of the dirt road. Caught in the headlights, it stands frozen.

It feels like everything happens in slow motion.

You and Jungkook are screaming as your hands turn the wheel, swerving out of the way before you hit the poor animal.

Your foot is on the brakes, but the roads are slippery. You’re not able to stop.

Your car slams against a tree. Jungkook’s arm protectively shields you as the airbags trigger upon impact.

Everything feels slowed down, but it happens in an instant.

“Don’t hurt her.”

You’re not sure when, but you must have passed out.

With effort, you try to open your eyes. Your vision is blurry, but you can see that you’ve been pulled out of your car. The front is completely wrecked. Your car door is open and the airbags on both sides are deflated.

It’s still raining. You can feel yourself getting soaked, but you’re pressed against something solid and warm. How did you get here? Is that deer okay?

Where’s Jungkook?

“You don’t need her. You don’t need any of them.”

You don’t recognize that voice. It’s deep and has a bit of a drawl. But you can practically feel the hatred in their voice as you start to drift back into unconsciousness.

“No, she’s different. Please. Please don’t hurt her,” you hear Jungkook begging. His voice wavers as he holds you tighter. “She’s my human.”

“Guys, that’s enough.” A different voice cuts in. This one, somehow, sounds familiar. Deeper than the previous speaker, but warm and smooth. Whoever this voice belongs to seems to recognize one of you too. “Is that— Who are you?”

When you wake up again, you can still hear the rain. It’s soothing this time. The heavy pellets hit the large window, obscuring the view with a watery, grey blur. Your eyes are drawn to the curtains, velvet in color and tied with a knotted rope. There’s a bench in front of the window, stacked with cushions, that looks cozy. You could easily imagine yourself curled up with a book, a blanket, and a bunch of pillows in that spot.

You don’t remember seeing a little nook like that at the motel before.

Actually, you don’t remember any of the motels having one at all.

Where are you?

Panic starts to seep in when you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It looks old. Stuck in a forgotten time with antique furniture and outdated flooring and wallpaper. As you move beneath the duvet, you realize that your clothes have been removed and you’re now wearing one of Kangdae’s shirts that you let Jungkook borrow.

Did he do this? Where is Jungkook anyway?

It looks like you’re alone in this room. But beyond the bedroom door, you’re not sure what’s waiting for you out there.

Across the room, you’re surprised to see your belongings on a chair. Whoever Jungkook was talking to, they must have brought you and your stuff here. You waste no time to get out of Kangdae’s clothes and dress into your own, your feet creaking loudly against the floorboards as you make your way to your duffel bag.

Other than your hybrid friend, nothing else seems to be missing. Everything you packed, including what money you have left, is still there.

You glance over at the door again. One thing is for sure. Jungkook is on the other side somewhere. You can’t just wait around here forever.

The floorboards continue to creak beneath your feet as you make your way to the door. Once you pull it open, the hinges squealing as you do, you nearly scream.

A tall man with dark, wavy hair and small, round ears is just at the other side. His face is strikingly handsome, and his gaze is penetrating as he rests his arm against the doorway and leans so close to you, you can see the tiny beauty marks beneath his eye, on the tip of his nose, his cheek, and his bottom lip.

“Little human. Aren’t you being too noisy?”

“I’m sorry!” you quickly reply, thoroughly mortified. It must have been the floorboards, or maybe even when you were rummaging through your duffel bag for clothes. You didn’t think you were being too loud, but…

“Taehyung, don’t scare our guest away,” another voice says from the hallway.

When you look at the newcomer’s voice, your eyes widen in shock. For a moment, you think you’re looking at an angel. His face looks soft and kind, with full lips and a defined jaw. Some of his dark bangs cover his sharp eyes. But where one of his arms is human, lean and toned with muscle, his other arm is a long, feathered black wing that makes him somehow look more ethereal.

“I’m not scaring her, Jimin,” the one named Taehyung whines, straightening up. It’s when he’s at his full length when you realize just how tall this man is. And how sharp his claws are. He peers down at you and confirms, “Right, little human?”

“Um. Yes?”

The one named Jimin moves so gracefully as he approaches you two. There’s a friendly smile on his angelic face. “Don’t mind him. He usually hibernates around this time, so he’s a little cranky. Bear hybrids tend to sleep more than the rest of us.”

Taehyung snorts and scratches his belly. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Jimin must be right. There’s a hint of tiredness in his stoic face.

“It’s all right,” Taehyung mumbles, now scratching his head.

“You must be hungry,” Jimin guesses, and at the very mention of food, your stomach growls in agreement. Heat colors your cheeks, but Jimin continues to smile and merely nods to where he came from. “Follow me, then. I’ll tell Seokjin and Yoongi to make something for you.”

Again, it looks like he’s floating with every step he takes. It’s obvious that he’s a bird hybrid, but his graceful movements remind you of a swan. A black swan.

Behind you, much to your surprise, Taehyung follows. Earlier, he seemed so adamant about going back to sleep. There’s still a grumpy, tired look on his face – brown eyes glazed over with drowsiness and his lips pouting slightly – yet, he still trails behind both you and Jimin.

The swan hybrid notices and smirks a little. “He’s curious about you.”

You can’t really imagine why. Or if that’s even a good thing.

Jimin leads you both to a foyer. There are more hybrids sitting around the fireplace. It’s warm, orange glow casts lights upon each of their animalistic features.

From the lounge chair is a man with pale skin and leopard-printed ears and a long tail. Along one side of his neck, shoulder, and arm are spots that look like tattoos. His gaze feels intimidating the moment he locks eyes with you, and his long tail swishes back and forth slowly.

On the other chair, another man turns to look at you as well. Like Taehyung, his face is strikingly handsome. Pointed ears and a long tail indicate that he’s a wolf, but bigger. You’re not sure if it’s the reflection of the fire, but his sharp eyes look golden and are practically glowing.

The last one, sitting comfortably with the predator hybrids, is an elaphocentuar – half-human, half-deer. The upper-part of his body is of a human man with strong antlers on his head, but the bottom-half is of a spotted deer. The reddish-brown of his fur matches the hair on his head.

A few days ago, you’ve rarely seen a hybrid in person. Now, you’re in a room full of them.

“You’re awake!” a familiar voice exclaims before a solid mass just pulls you into a tight hug. Relief washes over you when you recognize who it is.

“Jungkook! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” you immediately ask, your voice a little muffled from his hold. You pull away enough to get a good look at him. There are some fresh bruises from the accident, but no broken bones or concerning wounds from what you can tell.

“I’m fine. I was more worried about you,” he admits as he begins to ramble. “I was a little disoriented, but I managed to get out of the car. I pulled you out of the driver’s seat too. The car is completely wrecked! I don’t know if you’ll be able to drive it anymore. But that deer we almost hit was a hybrid!”

You glance over at the deer hybrid. He moves a little closer to the leopard-hybrid, body entirely stiff since you stepped into the room, and staring at you like he’s still caught in the headlights. You feel awful and you don’t blame him at all for being scared of you.

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

The deer-hybrid merely blinks, as if he isn’t sure you’re talking to him. Then, meekly, he replies, “I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re not,” you tell him sincerely.

“Me too,” Jungkook agrees, offering a small smile at the deer-hybrid as well. “They found us right after the accident. You were so cold and wet, I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. They said I had to get you out of your wet clothes or you’d get sick, but I promise I didn’t do anything weird! And then, I just waited for you to wake up on your own. You’ve been asleep for a while, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“We recognized Jungkook as one of us, so we had to check on him,” the leopard-hybrid explains, his gaze not once leaving you. You vaguely recognize his voice as the one Jungkook was arguing with. “He insisted that we had to help you too.”

“She’s different from the other humans!” Jungkook defends. His arms are still around you rather protectively. “She’s so nice. She’s been helping me and taking care of me. I couldn’t just leave her behind.”

“We don’t normally allow humans anywhere near this place,” the handsome wolf adds on. It’s obvious why. Not only are they hybrids, but they’re exotic. Black swan, clouded leopard, dire wolf. Even the bear and deer hybrids are uncommon compared to the rabbits, dogs, cats, rodents, and bird hybrids. “But the young master of this manor made an exception for you.”

“The master?”

“That would be me.”

The final resident of this house of hybrids steps in. He’s tall and muscular with perfect body proportions. He has short, brown hair and tanned skin. But the fullness of his lips, the deep dimples in his cheeks, and the dark sunglasses over his eyes are things you instantly recognize.

You haven't seen him since that night all those years ago.

“Rap Monster?”

His lips stretch into a smile. “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

Jungkook looks between you and the master of the house, eyes wide with awe and surprise. “That’s Rap Monster? Your favorite artist?”

Rap Monster arches an eyebrow. “Favorite artist?”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yeah, you, uh. You rap good.”

The leopard snorts, and you feel the curious gazes of the hybrids around you. You’re ready to crawl back into the room you woke up in and hide forever until you hear Rap Monster’s laughter.

Unlike the other hybrids, Rap Monster doesn’t have any animal parts to his body. No round ears or fluffy tails, no antlers or hooves, no feathered wings or webbed feet.

He looks completely human.

Except for one thing.

“I’ve gotten a lot better at rapping over the years. I’ll have to show you sometime,” he says, taking off his sunglasses. The move is unexpected to the hybrids living with him as he reveals to you his serpent eyes. The irises are a beautiful blend of indigo, deeper and more purple on the outer edges and bluer and lighter in the inner parts – unlike anything humans could naturally have. Warm brown is around the dark pupils that are vertically slitted, and they’re even more beautiful than you remember.

You could never forget eyes like his. They’re mesmerizing.

“That would be really nice,” you tell him, forcing yourself to look away from them. “But I don’t want to be a bother. I really appreciate the help and I can’t thank you enough for bringing us in, but I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

He arches an eyebrow at you again. It makes your stomach flip a little, and not in an entirely bad way. “How? The storm is still going and your car is damaged.”

Your heart sinks a little. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

Truth be told, you have no idea what to do now. Your car was your only means of transportation, and it’s undrivable. It’s too dangerous for you to travel around in the forest by foot, especially if you don’t know how far you are from the main roads. And even then, you’re reported as a missing person. Kangdae and the others are trying to find you.

“Don’t be silly. Just stay with us,” Rap Monster kindly offers. “I wouldn’t have allowed you in if I thought you’d be a danger to my pack.”

You glance at the other hybrids in the room. They’re looking at you with uncertainty, and perhaps, a bit of annoyance. They’ve told you themselves that they’re weary of humans, and given the history between your species and theirs, you can’t exactly blame them for that. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You won’t,” he assures you gently. In those two words alone, the doubt and hesitation start to leave your mind. “Stay as long as you like.”

It feels crazy and stupid, but at this point, trying to leave this shelter in the middle of a storm feels crazier and stupider.

“Okay,” you decide, peering up at his beautiful eyes again. “Until the storm passes.”

“Until the storm passes,” he agrees, as the clash of thunder and lightning seem even louder than before.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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[chocoenvy]

Hi there! I love your mommy Signora post, but ofc I love all the mommy fics hehe💕

But what happens in the day to day life with mommy Signora once reader got over the shock a lil bit?

I headcannon that maybe Signora can bring them around the palace and feed them Snezhnayan food? Maybe find out they have a fav and would have some as back up in case.

And maybe little creator would be angry at anyone who talks bad about her fire moth mama?

Keep note that you don't have to do this if you're too busy okay? Stay hydrated and rest well💕

hi im sad rn so i have to project apologies for making you hurt in advance <3

Child of Fire, Raised in Ice

warnings: fluff with an angst ending, sagau, a child (that is ten but turns 11-12 throughout this) is considered god, mild blood, death

6,115 words

There was no separating you and your mama. Ever since the day she had found you in the snow, held you with such tenderness. Despite being considered a "big kid", you still imprinted onto her like you were a young child. Growing by her side, soon enough in your pre-teen years.

Still, you stuck by her side. No matter how old you got.

This was a side of Teyvat you had never dreamed of seeing. Each of the harbingers, in all their horror and glory, and a new ideal against the gods. Signora, who you thought was so bad and evil, was now your hero.

Was this brainwashing? Were you too young and naïve to understand fully what was happening? Maybe, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you were safe. Signora was safe.

All the harbingers found it odd, Signora's behavior. How she didn't ask for anything from you in return, and yet your young mind already had an understand of give and take - of goods and services - was eager to please her.

"I can help!" "Do you need me to help?" A smaller hand holding onto her coat, you were basically her shadow. But you were desperate to be helpful.

Signora was scared to let you go alone, despite your exalted status, there were those that would hurt you to spite her, and those with a hatred for gods that extended beyond reason. Despite her insistence she had no earthly attachments to you - that this was merely business - she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to you.

But she wouldn't be by your side forever. So slowly but surely, she helped you grow. To no longer rely so heavily on her.

Running errands to Childe first, who always had a soft spot for kids. He became your friend quickly, your brother. A familiar and friendly face to go to when you didn't have Signora. Next was Arlecchino, brash and sadistic, but had a calm façade. You grew close with her at a slower rate, but eventually caught yourself growing fonder of her. Asking to visit the orphanage, making care packages for the kids, playing with those your own age.

Signora watched you grow physically and mentally with a fond smile. One that no one had seen in centuries.

You became quite famous in the Zapolyarny palace quite quickly. Going from being always a step behind Signora, to always a step ahead of her. Sometimes even running ahead to greet someone you knew - such as flinging yourself into Capitano who merely gently patted your head. Or excitedly shouting something to Pierro, always eager to see his nod of approval when you've done something worthy. You'd always seen Signora give reports to him, so you attempted to keep your conversations the same as that. You failed miserably, but it was funny to see you talk so formally and informally at the same time and tacking "sir" onto the end of all of your sentences. Until one day he finally caved and told you to just call him Pierro.

Despite your image of Signora changing drastically from what you used to think of her, Dottore never really changed in your mind. His smile freaked you out, almost like if you got too close he'd snatch you up and tear you apart. Like the magic tricks you'd see of people being torn apart, but you didn't think he'd be able to - or want - to fix you.

You thought your wariness was warranted. Which caught the attention of The Damsel.

Oddly, you were never afraid of Pierro. He reminded you of the nice old men that were from your old home, and despite everything, when you got close to him, he smelled like one of your male family members. He reminded you of home.

However The Damsel was the opposite. She smelled of nothing but the ice cold tundra, she appeared sickly, weak, but her voice was powerful.

Her first words to you were, "You think the Doctor is so frightening? What has he done to you so far?"

You couldn't see her eyes, but her voice sounded as though she was awaiting a grand story, an utterly horrid story, like she wanted to tear you apart and see the deepest and darkest parts of you.

"He-he's scary looking," You pouted, distressed.

A dainty giggle danced in the air, and the sound made you relaxed against your better judgement.

"Am I scary looking?" She leaned down a bit, the height difference not being that much, but it felt like she was towering over you.

You blinked, throat tightening and mouth flapping open and closed. You felt Signora's hand touch your upper arm before the words tumbled out of your mouth, "A wendigo." You realized what you just said and fumbled to fix your mistake, "A pretty wendigo! Wait-! Uh-!"

Even Signora snickered at the comment. The Damsel giggled, "Perhaps you're not far off from the mark. Call me Columbina. A child of Signora's is a child I shall protect."

Suddenly, Dottore didn't seem as scary anymore.

You were slowly but surely becoming more and more independent as the months passed, almost seeming like you were a mini-harbinger with how often you hung around them. Everyone was still aware of your "godhood" but that was overshadowed with over half a year of you being at the palace. Over half a year after Signora had saved you.

"Fair Lady, your grace." One of Signora's personal servants entered Signora's study, where the two of you were sorting through important paperwork and writing reports to officials, townsfolk, and the Tsartisa herself.

Signora nodded for her to speak.

"The Tsaritsa has requested their grace's presence."

Those words sent a shiver up your spine, you glanced nervously at Signora but her face was completely neutral.

"Thank you, we'll be on our way immediately." Signora stood from her chair and the servant scurried off.

"Signora-"

"You'll be okay." Her smile was so uncharacteristically warm. A smile that melted away the snow, a smile that saved you when you were dying in the cold.

You opened your mouth to say something doubtful, to argue or protest, but you didn't, "...okay..."

She grabbed your hand in hers, and it was warm, and she led you to the Tsaritsa. To the heart of the palace, a place you had never been.

Signora had told you a handful of times that the Tsarist was aware of your presence in the palace and condoned it. That when you had passed out in her arms after she had saved you, the Tsaritsa herself had made sure you had healed at your bedside.

You didn't ask why, throat closed up and mouth dry. You never questioned why. Signora was safe, she'd tell you all you needed to know, and what you didn't need to know... was fine by you.

"Here," Signora slipped her hand out of yours, pushing you forwards towards a staggeringly tall door, "I will be right here-"

"Why can't you come with me?" You looked up at her with wide fearful eyes, barely managing a shaky breath in and out.

Signora's eyes softened, a sight you and one other lost to the snow has seen, her hand on your shoulder tightened and she lowered herself to your level, "The Tsaritsa has not requested me, remember we are living in her palace, in her land. She would never put you in danger, and neither would I." She cupped your face and lifted your wandering eyes to hers, "You believe me, right?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

She patted your cheek, "Good." A rare moment of fondness, she pressed her lips to your forehead softly, "Now go, don't keep her Majesty waiting too long."

You nodded, Signora's gentle and warm touch leaving your form. The cold surrounded you as you pressed your palm to the handle of the door. The cold spread throughout your veins, freezing your lungs and heart.

You used all your might to push the heavy door open, squeezing past it. It shut with a thud behind you.

You kept your eyes on the ground, barely wandering to fully take in the room.

You could feel her Majesty's presence, but you'd never formally met her before. How were you supposed to greet her? Were you supposed to greet her? What titles should you use? She was far scarier than any of the harbingers, you couldn't tell if your limbs were shaking from the cold or pure fear.

"Raise your head, child." A deep, baritone voice came from the throne, jostling you out of your frozen state.

You followed her command immediately, raising your head to meet her eyes- were covered. Her eyes were covered.

Her height was staggering as well, she must've towered over everyone in the palace including the harbingers. Her throne was completely made out of ice too, everything in the room as well. If you weren't careful, you'd slip and fall.

On her stoic face, the ghost of a smile played at her lips.

She stood from her throne, a grand and intricate dress falling gracefully behind her as she made her for you.

You could feel each step in your chest, the dread building up. You bit your tongue to stop tears from welling in your eyes.

She gracefully swooped into a kneel and grabbed your hand with surprising gentleness. Her hand, despite bearing a glove, was ice cold and pulsated with power.

It made you dizzy, the pure cryo energy in one human body and the power of three gnosis in her possession.

"It's an honor to formally meet you, your grace." Her deep voice reverberated in your head.

You stumbled on your words, "Y-y-y-you too your majesty." You squeaked.

She chuckled, "No need to be so formal, you've lived in my palace for quite some time now, haven't you. I know you well."

"You've been... watching..?" The question slowly died on your throat as you realized the absurdity of it. You were in her palace, her home territory. Of course she'd be watching you.

"I have. Everything that goes on in my home I am aware of. Not only in the palace, but in the whole of Snezhnaya." She answered with a smile, one that seemed oddly sinister, "There are many things I wish to tell you, many questions I believe you have. Those will all be answered in due time, you are still far too young for all of these dealings." Her hand slipped away from yours and you felt the blood flow resume - you hadn't even noticed it had slowed.

"First," An intricate box materialized itself in her hand, the same way the Traveler's weapon would appear and disappear on command, "I want you to know, your grace, that these are yours." She opened the box and you gasped, nearly tripping on the ice in your shock, "I have gathered two of the other archons' gnosis as well as my own, and soon to be all seven, all to give to you. I understand that this must be overwhelming which is why I don't expect you to accept or take them." Her smile grew and you swore you saw fangs peak out, "I merely want you to know that these are here for you, all you must do is call for them and they shall be yours."

"Why-?" You choked out, shock grasping at your throat, "You've worked so hard-"

"That is something that you must find out on your own." She closed the box, her smile ever present, "Snezhnaya has no room for tears and childhood, you've had to grow up faster than you could've ever imagined. I will give you some more time, but when you feel that spark of childhood extinguish, come to me."

"H-h-" The world spun, "H-How will I know?"

"You just will." The box disappeared from her hands, and in the same place Signora had left a warm and gentle kiss on your forehead, The Tsaritsa had done the same, chasing away whatever warmth lay on or underneath your skin. "Goodbye, child, it was wonderful meeting you."

You nodded, "You as well."

You scurried out the door, and just as she had promised; Signora was there.

Signora noticed the difference your meeting with the Tsaritsa had made immediately. You were shaken, your eyes had the beginnings of the frozen tundra in them.

Signora knew she wouldn't be able to preserve the warmth of your innocence and childhood forever, and it seems the threads of the Tsaritsa's grand plan were making themselves seen.

However, you still melted into her touch, smiling so widely when you saw her. Even with your ever-growing independence, you made sure to always stick next to her. You were never out of her sight, and that childish smile still remained when you saw her, or Childe, or Capitano, Pulcinella, Pierro, even Arlecchino, Columbina and Dottore got to see your childish smile. You were happy, and that was all Signora could ask for.

"Signora! Signora!" Your childish voice resounded through the halls.

"Yes, yes I'm right here dear, what is it?"

"Look!" You held out your hands to her, they were cupped together and on top of them rested a pyro moth.

Signora's eyes widened in shock, "Where did this come from?" There was no way you'd know these belonged to her, she had only ever used her cryo powers around you. Except-

"I don't know! It just kinda showed up, I think it likes me!" You smiled ear-to-ear, "It kinda reminds me of you, it's the same warmth I felt when you found me, you know?"

Signora hummed, her gloved hand coming up to lightly touch the wing of the moth, "I see." She smiled warmly, "Well, since it likes you so much, make sure to take good care of it."

You nodded enthusiastically.

Signora seemed to have been unaware of how close she had gotten to you. She knew her moth only had one objective: to watch over you.

Perhaps it was a good thing.

-

"What do you mean?!" You screeched, the moth that had shown up just a few days before fluttering distressed at your shoulder, "You're going away?" You whined, clutching onto her dress, "Why are you just telling me-?"

"(Y/n)." You froze at the use of your name, "You are still aware of the fact that I am a harbinger, this was going to happen eventually, I have a duty to the Tsaritsa and Snezhnaya. I must go, you know this. Everything has been set up, all that's left is for me to grab the gnosis and come right back. You understand."

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a statement you would argue. You nodded miserably, stray tears falling down your cheeks.

Signora sighed, "Please don't cry." Her hands cupped your face and wiped away the fallen tears, "The other Fatui have taken care of most of the work, it will be quick and I'll come right back. You can be a big kid for a month can't you?" She smiled encouragingly

You sniffled and nodded, "I- I think so."

"Good, thank you, (Y/n). And if you don't think you can be a big kid there's always Childe and Columbina and the other harbingers." Signora smiled, "You can visit the orphanage with Arlecchino, do whatever you want. So long as you stay safe and keep Little Ayin with you. Understand?"

"Yes Signora!" You saluted like one of the Fatui underlings, Little Ayin fluttering encouragingly around you.

"Good!" She patted your head, "Now come on, you can follow me to the boat but you can't come with me."

You grinned, holding her hand and leading the way to the front doors of the palace, "Don't worry! One day I'll become a harbinger and be able to come with you to all of your missions!"

"Really? Will you be the 12th harbinger?" Signora asked ammused.

"Nope! I'll be first!"

"And what of Pierro?"

"He'll be retired. He already has back problems."

Signora snorted, "Don't be saying things like that so boldly, you might make an enemy of Pierro." She ruffled your hair playfully.

It didn't take long enough to reach the boat. You squeezed her hand, almost silently begging her to not go.

"I'll see you soon, (Y/n)." Signora smiled.

You flung yourself into her arms, "See you soon!" You pulled back with a grin, barely managing to hold back the tears.

Signora softly smiled, grasping your hands in hers. You felt her place a solid and cold object in your hands. She closed your hands together and patted them, "I'll be back in a month. Make sure not to cause the others too much grief."

You grinned, "No promises!"

She nodded and pulled away, you stopped yourself from chasing her warmth. She boarded the ship and you watched as they prepared for travel. You stood there the entire time as they prepared to leave, and then followed the boat as far as you could until they were too far at sea. Not for a second did you stop waving at Signora until the boat was out of view. Your hand fell to your side slowly but definitively.

"(Y/n)."

You swallowed down the tears and turned to grin at Arlecchino, "Yes. We should go home."

Arlecchino nodded, walking beside you.

You kept your hand next to Little Ayin, the other grasping whatever item Signora had entrusted to you.

"You look miserable." Arlecchino commented, "Come with me to the orphanage, it's been a while since your last visit."

You glanced up at her, and nodded, smiling softly, "Sure. Just- once we get there do you think I could have a moment to myself?"

Arlecchino gave you an undecipherable look, "Of course, (Y/n)."

Once at the orphanage, all the kids who you had grown close to over the past year swarmed you.

But just as she had promised, you were allowed a moment to yourself alone.

You took the item from your pocket and inspected it.

It was a locket. You stared at it, dumbfounded, your confusion doubling at the clearly Mondstadt design of the locket.

You opened the locket and a folded piece of paper fell out. However the picture in the locket was... Signora? And a man?

"Who..." You diverted your attention to the small piece of paper, unfolding it to read the message, "Dear (Y/n), I'm sorry for never having the strength to explain to you in person. Ask Pierro about the locket. I shall tell you more once I am back. -Signora"

You stared dumbfounded at the piece of paper and locket you now had in your hands. Was this even Signora? Maybe it was a family member of hers? But why would she give this to you-?

"(Y/n)?" There was a knock on the door, "The children are getting impatient."

"Oops! Coming!" You turned around and rushed through the door, past Arlecchino.

Immediately a genuine smile tugged at your lips as you spend the day at the orphanage, with those you could almost call your family.

-

You couldn't sleep in the orphanage. You and the kids had played for hours on end, a distraction from Signora's absence. However you refused to sleep there. No matter how inconvenient or spoiled and bratty you sounded.

Thankfully, after some pushing, Arlecchino relented and took you back to the palace even though it was well after midnight.

Being in an orphanage and staying there after Signora had left... you couldn't do it. Not after you had been ripped away from your other family.

"You know, I'm starting to really hate agreeing to babysitting duty." Arlecchino huffed, grimacing.

You snickered, "Did Signora ask you to babysit me?"

She sighed, "Not explicitly, but she did enough passive aggressive hints for me to get the message."

You giggled at the mental image, "Well you won't have to worry about me tomorrow, I have plans in mind to bother another Fatui member." You grinned sadistically, a grin you've seen on Arlecchino before.

"May the Tsaritsa help their soul then."

-

You hunted down Pierro as quickly as you could the next day, following him around like a lost duck.

"Is there something you need?" He asked gruffly.

"Yes, but it'd take up a lot of your time."

He sighed, "Is it important?"

"Yes." You stared up at him with wide, child-like, yet gravely serious eyes.

His visible eye searched yours for a moment, as if noticing something that wasn't there before. Maybe there was.

Pierro nodded, "Alright then, come with me."

He turned and briskly walked towards his office, you scurried after him, gently holding onto his coat so you could keep up with him.

The locket and note were held in your pocket, and Little Ayin was snuggled against your neck comfortably. Signora was still, in a way, with you. She'd come back in a month, and you'd be here waiting for her. You'd be able to ask all the questions you want about the locket and the couple in it.

He opened the door to his office and held the door open to allow you inside, "Go ahead and have a seat." He shut the door and sat opposite of you. With a rough sigh, he said, "So, what is it that you need to tell me?"

You pulled the note and locket out of your pocket, laying it on the table in front of you.

"Signora gave this to me before she had left." You looked up at him, searching his expression.

For a moment, confusion and shock made his eyebrows furrow, before they became neutral. Almost as though he had expected this.

"I see." She gently grabbed the note and read it, nodding to himself.

Opening the locket, he turned it so it faced you, the couple staring at you. The woman's smile one you had seen before.

"This was 500 years ago. The woman is Signora, and the man beside her was her husband, Rostam."

"Husband?" You sputtered, Little Ayin resting on your shoulder solemnly, "She has... why did she never tell me?"

"Because he is no longer with us." Pierro said, his eyes meeting your steadily, like he was telling a story that had already been finished. "He was once a Knight of Favonius, and after the calamity of Khaenri’ah the Knights were tasked with purging the monsters that had emerged. Here, Rostam had died. Signora had been at the Akademiya in Sumeru studying while he had died, and when she returned to find him dead she went insane. Swearing to burn away the world and cleanse it."

You remained silent, staring at the picture of such a happy couple. Unsure of what you should be feeling.

"I believe," He said carefully, but retaining all the power in his voice, "That she hesitated on telling you because of how much it hurt her. I never expected her to tell you at all." His hand gently came up to pat the top of your head, and you didn't realize all the tears that were falling onto your lap. "Rostam was Signora's family. The only one she had. I believe she sees you the same way now."

You screwed your eyes shut and curled in on yourself, sobbing into your hands.

"I-I want her back!" You wailed, "I don't- don't want her leaving." You hiccupped, "I miss my old family, she's-she's all I have."

"She'll return." Pierro said so assuredly that you couldn't help but believe him, "You must have faith in her. She's captured two gnosis successfully. She will return with one more. Trust me when I say this is just as painful for her as it is you."

You nodded, sniffling. Reminding yourself over and over that she would return.

-

The first night on the ship, Signora had cried. She cried like she had just lost someone, cried like her first night in the Akademiya. Like she was alone for the first time in a long time.

It was the longest and hardest month she'd had in centuries. It was foolish - stupid of her to get so close to you. She feared that history had a habit of repeating itself, and she was petrified for the latter half of her history repeating.

But you were in the Zapolyarny Palace, under the protection of the Tsaritsa and the harbingers. T here was no way you would be hurt while under Her Majesty's care.

But her subordinates could see her stress, how she was snappier and any semblance of leniency she had shown in their homeland had evaporated. She chalked it up to this being an important mission, the most important one since last year when she and Childe obtained the Geo Gnosis. Of course, any leniency allowed by her could put the whole mission in jeopardy.

She'd get this mission finished with soon. At this point all that was left was to take the damn thing and go home.

-

"Filthy rats... all of you!"

She was desperate, insane, a witch.

All the heartbreak she went through after she lost Rostam, the pain and fear you felt when you awoke in this world to never see your family again, you would not feel it again. She had to go back to Snezhnaya, she had to go back to you-!

In the end, she did make it back to Snezhnaya. In a casket.

-

"Pierro! Pierro! She's here! She's here!" You squealed, bounding out of the palace.

"(Y/n)..." You were too excited to notice his odd tone, "Slow down."

From the day he had told you of Signora's past, you kept the locket around your neck. Even if you never knew Rostam, if he made Signora happy then he had your approval.

"Come on, Little Ayin! Why are you so slow?" You gently but hurriedly scooped the strangely forlorn fire moth into your hands. "I thought you'd be more excited for Signora's return." You giggled, running through the snow even before the sun had begun to rise, Pierro following slowly behind.

You waited at the dock, "How long will it take for them to be here?" You questioned Pierro, staring up at him with wide and excited eyes.

Pierro watched the child-like nature flutter with hope in your eyes. He sighed, "The report said they'd be here by sunrise."

"How long until sunrise?" You bounced on your tippy-toes, stretching your neck to see as far out into the ocean as you could.

"Far too long, child, it's 3 in the morning." He patted your shoulder hardily, "And you've been up since midnight."

"I just can't wait!" You grinned.

Oh how Pierro was dreading the morning sun.

-

Quite a few Fatui were gathered around the docks, and of course, you were the first to spot the boat carrying Signora.

"There! That's her! That's her!" You screeched, pointing at the boat.

But no one cheered.

You didn't think to question it, Pierro having to hold you back from sprinting up the plank laid down from the boat to the dock.

You saw ginger hair and a red scarf at the top of the plank.

"Childe? What's he-?"

You felt your heart drop to your feet and then somehow tumbling even further away from your grasp. Your stomach churned and twisted. You wanted to throw up and cry out your insides.

Childe didn't smile at you when his eyes met you, as he led a group of people carrying a human-sized box off of the ship.

You broke away from Pierro's grasp, hitting his hand away from you when he reached for you.

"(Y/n)-!" He barked after you sternly.

"Childe!" You crashed into his front, holding onto the front of his shirt even though he towered above you, "Where is she?"

His eyes somehow managed to look even more dead, hope chased away long ago.

Fear grappled your heart, stopping it's beating entirely. You shook him, your voice raising dangerously, "Where is she Tartaglia!"

He shakily inhaled, pity in his dark blue orbs, an ocean swallowing you in the beginnings of grief. He closed his eyes and turned his head to look at the box that was being carried by six Fatui.

"There."

"..."

There was silence, quieter than the deathly snow at night, waiting for its next victim. Your limbs and organs stopped working, halting their movements to stare at the box.

"Stop lying." You whispered.

"I'm not-"

"She's not!" You choked, shaking Tartaglia desperately, "You're lying!"

"(Y/n)." A firm hand gripped your shoulder, Pierro softly yet firmly said, "Please-"

"Did you know?!" You whipped around to face him, eyes wide and pupils pinpricks, breathing erratic - angry - and tears falling furious from your eyes.

"... yes. We got a report-"

"Why didn't you tell me!" You screeched, pushing him away from you and backing away, your hands clenched as fists at your side.

Pierro lowered his hand with a frown, "Because we knew you wouldn't believe us and that you'd react like this."

"She's not- she can't be- she's still in Inazuma you just left her behind. You- you-" You choked on your words and sobs, crying into your sleeves.

You clutched Little Ayin to your chest, its warmth the only comfort.

Without even realizing it, you were running, your name being shouted from behind you before stopping. But you kept running. And running.

And running.

-

You were once again lost in the tundra, snow billowing past. Except now you were accustomed to it, and attuned to the world in a way you nor anyone else could begin to imagine.

However one thing remained the same. You had lost your home. Your family. Once again, it had happened.

You fell into the snow, curling into a pathetic, sobbing ball. Crying into your arms and knees and hands until you couldn't feel your body. Everything was numb, even your heart and mind.

There was no point, no reason, no rhyme or love or life.

You wailed into the snow, into the tundra and wild of Snezhnaya. You screamed and cried like a wounded animal, begging and screaming for someone to bring Signora back. To bring your family back.

Your prayers were only slightly listened to. A warmth floated by your ear and you jerked away. You were laying on your stomach, face numb in the snow, until Little Ayin encouraged you to roll onto your back as it laid on your chest. Right where your heart was beating erratically.

It brought warmth throughout your chest and your raised your hands to gently hold it. Your wails and sobs turning into pitiful sniffles and whimpers. It was as though a limb had been torn off you and you were desperately trying to convince yourself you could reattach it. That you'd still have it good as new.

That Signora would come back. She'd come back she promised she promised, they all promised, she'll come back one day.

You gulped in breathes of cold air, stabilizing yourself in the warmth you pretended was Signora's hand. When suddenly the temperature dropped even more. Your tears turned into icicles after they fell, your entire body numb.

You didn't even move your eyes when you saw a pair of hands come up to wipe at your face. When they moved away, you saw tear and blood stains.

"Dear, you've certainly made quite a mess of yourself." It was the deep baritone of Her Majesty, yet despite that you couldn't bring yourself to care. Your heart didn't jump in recognition and neither did your eyes widen. You lay there motionless.

"Come, it is far too harsh out here for a wounded heart." She easily picked your limp body up, Ayin still laying against your chest, its pulsating warmth weaker than ever.

-

The Tsaritsa noticed a pattern within her kingdom. The cycle of love repeating endlessly, so everlasting even the Raiden Shogun would be envious.

How cruel this cycle was to her subjects and even the ruler of them all. To allow attachments to grow and fester and wrap thorns and roots in one's heart only to have them brutally torn out. Leaving you with nothing but scars.

Right now you were a bleeding wound, not even the most adept and knowledgeable would be able to know how to help you.

Not even the Tsaritsa, who had seen and experienced this pattern countless times, did not know the solution.

But she knew different outcomes. She merely awaited to see which one you would set down.

-

The day of Signora's official funeral you were much quieter. The harbingers gathered around her cold casket. You had grieved alone with her corpse some days earlier, pretending her hand was grasping your own and she was hugging you closely to her chest. That you were missing your old family as she comforted you, back when you were younger and more of a crybaby.

That she'd allow you to be weak again, to be a crybaby again and weep for what you missed.

She had never responded to your questions about her and Rostam.

Her cold casket didn't burn bright red like Little Ayin. It was white in the white snow and ice. Columbina sang with a smile, the other harbingers bickering. Your hand rested against her coffin.

The creeps of the Tsaritsa's power made themselves known, frost creeping their way through the building. You comforted the cold metal of the coffin the same way her hand comforted you. Perhaps you could pretend that somewhere, somehow, she could feel it.

Little Ayin fluttered away from you, landing on the fallen pawn on the chessboard.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade..."

The words from Pulcinella's mouth made you sick. Your teeth grit in anger.

The traveler had defeated The Fair Lady in a duel before the throne. Childe's words were engraved into your very mind, anger burning through your veins. It was customary for her to be executed after their fight by the shogun.

The harbinger's heartless and stupid words made it worse, your gaze flickering between them like a caged animal ready to strike. You tapped your finger against the coffin, willing yourself to believe it was empty.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." Pierro stepped out of the shadows, the frost spreading across the floor away from you, "Right now you have no captive audience."

You unclenched your fist and stood straighter as the harbingers gathered around her. Blood dribbled from your palm where you had cut them with your nails.

Little Ayin rested on her coffin, and it burned away. Your last source of her warmth gone. You had to bite your tongue to keep from crying or yelling.

Pierro's every word hung in the air like the ending of an act to a play. And at the end of the act, the entire building was encased in ice. Never to be disturbed again, Signora would rest in absolute peace.

"As was Her Majesty's benevolence."

But it wasn't until after you had returned to the palace, with a demand to meet with Her Majesty, when you realized she was no where near the vacinity.

The Tsaritsa hadn't frozen Signora's burial site. You had.

"Your Majesty." You faced her, head lifted to meet her eyes.

"Yes, your grace?" She responded with a wicked grin.

"I am no longer a child." Your eyes resembled her eleventh harbinger, Hell having greeted you firsthand, "My birth mother and family cruelly torn away from me, and my mother from this world now dead. My childhood is dead and I wish to accept the gnosis."

Your eyes, wide with youth, were steadfast and set in determination and - the Tsaritsa amusedly noticed - rage.

She grinned, fangs peaking from behind her lips, "Then... I am sorry...to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me. That is all I ask of you. Surely you can fulfill it."

The box materialized in her hands and you reached to take it.

"I will burn away the old world." You said through gritted teeth, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the gnosis, "I will cleanse this world, and I will kill the traveler."

The Tsaritsa nodded, her smile never faltering, "Then welcome to the Fatui, your grace. I know you shall become a wonderful ruler for the new world, and a vengeful soldier for your lost mother."

The patterns that love followed truly were amusing.

[themisfortunateone]

LENORA CHARACTER SHEET!!

(DISCLAIMER!! jaws and lenora are basically the same person, buuutt, jaws lost all her memories and only remembers life before her first death, so she only remembers life as being lenora and doesn’t remember anyone…they are basically two sides of the same coin since in reality they are just the same person with REALLY different personality’s if that makes sense…so she doesn’t remember life as jaws and she gets really upset and angry when people call her that because from what she’s heard, jaws was very weak and she doesn’t wanna be associated with her “past self.” she also believes that her “forgetting her memories” is just an elaborate prank since in her mind, her memory is perfectly intact. the only person she remembers however is max and that’s only because of house making her remember him…anyways disclaimer over !!)

Name: Lenora.

Nicknames: Len, Leni, moth person, weapon, hat girl, starlight, dear, jaws…

Age: 17.

Birthday: 12/22.

Species: Moth.

Family: “none of your ####### business…”

Height: 5’6.

Pronouns: she/they.

Sexuality: bisexual.

interests: anything valuable currency wise…jewelry, gold objects, silver objects, guns, crystals, philosophy (surprisingly) money, knives, etc etc…

likes: money. hot sauce, silly juice, being by herself, watching arguments, antagonizing people, her gun, piercings, music, people with a backbone, the dark, her electric guitar, and maybe a few people…

dislikes: overly sweet people, being vulnerable, crowds, the color orange, her old “job” her parents, people ruining her “fun”, liars, people who call her jaws.

“STOP CALLING ME JAWS THATS NOT MY ###### NAME, NEXT TIME SOMEONE CALLS ME THAT IM BLOWING YOUR ####### BRAINS OUT.”

Personality: Lenora is VERY violent and extremely rude to mostly everyone she’s in contact with..she is harsh with her words and doesn’t sugarcoat most things, and she loves to antagonize people the second she gets the chance to do so. Lenora however does have a soft spot for a certain person however…and she only shows slight softness when they are around but she’s not usually nice..she is trying(??) to change a bit, but it’s hard to break old habits…and she’s known for taking her anger out on others and self projecting her issues onto them. in reality, lenora doesn’t really mean the stuff she says, she just doesn’t know how to communicate, so she resorts to being mean and violence since that’s all she’s ever known..

Brief backstory!!

Lenora didn’t have the best influence when she grew up…her family was heavily involved in gangs and illegal substances, and she was even forced to be involved in that type of life as well…she learned how to use weapons at a young age and she would also be forced to unalive people until eventually, she started finding joy in it and doing it purely out of entertainment..she also had a bit of a drinking problem…one day, she ends up meeting this girl who was apart of a rivaling gang and they fall in love, they started dating in secret but Lenora’s parents found out and they weren’t too thrilled to find out that their daughter was gay and was dating someone from a rivaling gang…sssoo they ended up punishing Lenora, and her girlfriend broke up with her—even worse, her girlfriend never even actually loved her, she just used her for a primary source of information. Lenora decided she was tired of the life she was living and wanted to change, so she planned to run away…she got someone to take her away and put her escape plan into motion…butttt, while she in the back seat of the car drinking her problems away as the getaway driver tried to take her to safety, the car EXPLODED…(spoiler alert, someone from the gang found out and informed her parents, and her parents didn’t want her going out in the real world and telling everyone their secrets, and since she was causing problems already, they thought it would be better to just kill her off…) and then lenora DIED.

Scent: Smoke and fruits..

Text color: blue…

voice claim: aaalso coming soon…

Lenora’s playlist !!

lenora’s design!!

(also, fun fact, the reason why jaws used to carry an empty bottle around with her was because of the fact when she died, she was holding one because like i said, lenora died drinking her problems away before the car exploded…and when jaws woke up in the field, she had the bottle clenched tightly in her hand and she thought it was a clue as to where she might’ve come from so she kept it with her!!)

[myhandisfatemywordislaw]

The doctor hungers

bashed out a quick dr c fic for @ifthestarsarewilling! tagging @rocksanddeadflowers too since you put the post on my dash

read here on ao3 or below the cut, for dr carmilla being a hungry hungry vampire

if you enjoy it I would love to hear your thoughts!

“We’re a couple weeks out from the nearest settlement,” Brian said.

“Good.” Carmilla tried to give him a warm, encouraging smile. Brian didn’t meet her eye. “Is there any way we could get there faster?”

Brian tensed slightly. 

“If we go quickly we could get there in maybe a few days?” he glanced at Nastya for confirmation.

“No, that would burn out her engines and cause damage. A week, minimum,” Nastya said in a thick sprussian accent, staring intently at the wall.

Carmilla nodded. 

“A week, then.” She tried to project a lightness and confidence she did not feel, and ignored the way her stomach grumbled slightly. It would be fine. She only had to last a week, she could do this.

Maybe… maybe she would check again though. She walked out and to the supplies store. She rifled through various sections. Food. Chemicals. Forgotten trophies of conquest. Severed limbs floating in jars. No blood. Not a single drop, not anywhere.

“What are you doing, snooping around in here?” Ashes’ tone was not accusational, but it was a challenge. Rising to meet it was a mistake, she knew that.

“Just looking. Thought I’d check what we have. Conducting an inspection, if you will.” Carmilla was grasping at straws here, she knew that. Her excuse sounded flimsy even to her.

“The stores are my domain. I look after the stores.” Don’t you trust me, their eyes seemed to say, a simmering anger beneath. Don’t you think I’m capable?

“Yes, I know,” Carmilla replied lamely. “I just wanted to see for myself. That’s all. And I am Captain, after all.” 

She didn’t like to pull rank, worried it made her look too cold, too authoritative, but what else could she do? 

She knew it was a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Ashes’ eyes narrowed, smouldering with anger, and Carmilla mumbled something, and fled. Why couldn’t she ever do it right? Why wouldn’t any of them like her? She was trying her best, couldn’t they see that?

Tears pricked at her eyes as she slammed the door to her lab shut. She sat down heavily in the corner of the room, her stomach grumbling painfully. What was she going to do?

***

It had been several hours and, perhaps unsurprisingly, with nothing to distract her, the doctor’s hunger only intensified.

Maybe… maybe if she asked very gently, just for a small bite..? No. Absolutely not. That was not an option, unless she wanted them to dislike her more. No, she would handle this on her own. There was probably a way to synthesise blood in the lab, and she had plenty of chemicals. She’d ask the archivist, then. She would know. It’s her job to know.

Mind resolved, Carmilla made to leave. After a momentary hesitation, the took the cane leaning against the doorframe. She was hungry and tired and she knew she’d regret not having the extra support if she didn’t use it.

She walked into the library, cane clicking rhythmically. She swept her gaze around, scanning the shelves for what she wanted, but she couldn’t see anything. She wandered around the maze of shelves, checking Ivy’s usual hiding spots. 

Eventually she found her, curled up in a secluded dead end of shelves. Ivy was snoring softly, book still loosely clutched in her hand. Carmilla sat down next to her. She couldn’t wake her up, she knew demanding her services whenever she wanted with no regard for Ivy could lead to some unpleasant misunderstandings. 

Carmilla would wait for her to wake up, she decided. She busied herself flicking aimlessly through a biology textbook. Nothing useful, of course. She zoned out and began to daydream of her next feed. She could practically taste the blood on her lips, and she licked her fangs hungrily. She looked at Ivy, sleeping so peacefully. So vulnerable. She imagined how it would feel, to sink her teeth deep into Ivy’s flesh, and drink, like her life depended on it. She wanted it, she wanted it so badly, to drink and drink until she’d had her fill.

“What are you doing?” Jonny’s voice was rough, and angry. He stood in the aisle of the shelves, fists tightly clenched at his sides. 

Carmilla realised with a start she was fully bent over Ivy, her jaws mere millimetres from Ivy’s neck. She flinched backwards and stood quickly.

“Nothing,” she said a little too fast. “I came to find a book.“ That was mostly the truth, she supposed. 

“Get away from her,” he said, voice shaking slightly with anger and fear.

“Jonny, I wasn’t-“

“Go away!” he said, raising his voice. 

Something hard settled in her gut. She could be angry too. But she swallowed her own emotions and ducked her head slightly in a display of submission, and Jonny let her pass as she hurried away. 

She was so, so hungry. Maybe she should go to bed. That might make her feel better. She entered her bedroom, and setting her cane aside, she clambered into bed. She couldn’t seem to quite get comfortable, and it took a long time before she finally fell asleep.

***

When she awoke it was dark and the ship was quiet. The middle of Aurora’s night cycle, she supposed. But she didn’t much care. She hugged her stomach. There was a sharp, intense pain, the hunger taking root deep within her. She needed to feed. She had to.

With a sleep-addled mind, she climbed clumsily out of bed, and followed the faint scent of blood that drifted unbidden through the air. She opened the door it lead to softly. Jonny’s room. Of course. His bloodstained clothes reeked of his last killing spree. She didn’t want that though, didn’t want old, dried blood, she wanted, no, she needed real, fresh blood. She licked her lips, trying to satiate the dryness in her mouth. 

She brushed Jonny’s hair from his face tenderly. He looked so peaceful when he slept, so unlike the violent, angry boy she’d come to know. Before she knew what she was doing, her teeth were sinking deep into the flesh of his neck, and she drank deeply, warm, metallic blood flowing down her throat, and it was like a breath he fresh air.

Jonny screamed and thrashed as he awoke, but it was not enough to push her away. 

She retreated hastily as he retrieved the sixgun he kept on him at all times, quickly leaving the room and hiding behind the wall as Jonny fired erratically in her direction.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” he screamed. 

“Please,” Carmilla begged. “Please, I’m so hungry, I’m so hungry,”

Jonny cried out and sobbed with pain as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding in his neck, but it was no use, blood spurting out from under his fingers as he died. Jony fell silent, and Carmilla knew she had to act fast, faster than his mechanism. She pounced on his prone form, and drank and drank until he had nothing left to give in a maddened feeding frenzy. 

At last she pulled back, looking upon her work with horror, bloodstained and satiated. What had she done? What had she done?

[canmom]

VR observations, 10 months in

I've been a game dev for 10 months now. It's pretty great, I'm enjoying it a lot, I get to spend my days doing crazy shader shit and animations and voxels and visual effects. Hopefully the game that will come out of all this will be one people enjoy, and in any case I'm learning so much that will eventually come back to the personal ~artistic~ side of things. I can't talk about that game just yet though (but soon it will be announced, I'm pretty sure). So this is a post about other games.

Mind you, I don't actually play very many VR games, or games in general these days, because I'm too busy developing the dang things. but sometimes I do! And I think it's interesting to talk about them.

These aren't really reviews as such. You could project all sorts of ulterior motives if it was. Like my livelihood does sorta depend on people buying VR headsets and then games on them. This is more just like things I observe.

Headsets

The biggest problem with VR at the moment is wearing a headset for too long kinda sucks. The weight of the headset is all effectively held on a lever arm and it presses on your face. However, this is heavily dependent on the strap you use to hold it to your head. A better balanced and cushioned strap can hold the headset still with less pressure and better balance the forces.

The strap that comes with the Quest 3 is absolute dogshit. So a big part of the reason I wouldn't play VR games for fun is because after wearing the headset for 30-60 minutes in the daily meeting, the absolute last thing I'd want to do is wear it any longer. Recently I got a new strap (a ~£25 Devaso one, the low end of straps), and it's markedly improved. It would probably be even better if I got one of the high end Bobo straps. So please take it from me: if you wanna get into VR, get a decent strap.

I hear the Apple Vision Pro is a lot more comfortable to wear for long periods, though I won't have a chance to try it until later this month.

During the time I've been working at Holonautic, Meta released their Quest 3, and more recently Apple released their hyper expensive Vision Pro for much fanfare.

The Quest 3 is a decent headset and probably the one I'd recommend if you're getting into VR and can afford a new console. It's not a massive improvement over the Quest 2 - the main thing that's better is the 'passthrough' (aka 'augmented reality', the mode where the 3D objects are composited into video of what's in front of you), which is now in full colour, and feels a lot less intrusive than the blown out greyscale that the Quest 2 did. But it still has some trouble with properly taking into account depth when combining the feeds from multiple cameras, so you get weird space warping effects when something in the foreground moves over something in the background.

The Vision Pro is by all accounts the bees knees, though it costs $3500 and already sold out, so good luck getting one. It brings a new interaction mode based on eye tracking, where you look at a thing with your eyes to select it like with a mouse pointer, and hold your hands in your lap and pinch to interact. Its passthrough is apparently miles ahead, it's got a laptop tier chip, etc etc. I'm not gonna talk about that though, if you want to read product reviews there are a million places you can do it.

Instead I wanna talk about rendering, since I think this is something that only gets discussed among devs, and maybe people outside might be interested.

Right now there is only one game engine that builds to the Vision Pro, which is Unity. However, Apple have their own graphics API, and the PolySpatial API used for the mixed reality mode is pretty heavily locked down in terms of what you can do.

So what Unity does is essentially run a transpilation step to map its own constructs into PolySpatial ones. For example, say you make a shader in Shader Graph (you have to use shader graph, it won't take HLSL shaders in general) - Unity will generate a vision pro compatible shader (in MaterialX format) from that. Vertex and fragment shaders mostly work, particle systems mostly don't, you don't get any postprocessing shaders, anything that involves a compute shader is right out (which means no VFX graph), Entities Graphics doesn't work. I don't think you get much control over stuff like batching. It's pretty limited compared to what we're used to on other platforms.

I said fragment shaders mostly work. It's true that most Shader Graph nodes work the same. However, if you're doing custom lighting calculations in a Unity shader, a standard way to do things is to use the 'main light' property provided by Unity. On the Vision Pro, you don't get a main light.

The Vision Pro actually uses an image-based lighting model, which uses the actual room around you to provide lighting information. This is great because objects in VR look like they actually belong in the space you're in, but it would of course be a huge security issue if all programs could get realtime video of your room, and I imagine the maths involved is pretty complex. So the only light information you get is a shader graph node which does a PBR lighting calculation based on provided parameters (albedo, normal, roughness, metallicity etc.). You can then instruct it to do whatever you want with the output of that inside the shader.

The upshot of this is that we have to make different versions of all our shaders for the Vision Pro version of the game.

Once the game is announced we'll probably have a lot to write about developing interactions for the vision pro vs the quest, so I'll save that for now. It's pretty fascinating though.

Anyway, right now I've still yet to wear a Vision Pro. Apple straight up aren't handing out devkits, we only have two in the company still, so mostly I'm hearing about things second hand.

Shores of Loci

A few genres of VR game have emerged by now. Shooting and climbing are two pretty well-solved problems, so a lot of games involve that. But another one is 3D puzzles. This is something that would be incredibly difficult on a flat screen, where manipulating 3D objects is quite difficult, but becomes quite natural and straightforward in VR.

I've heard about one such game that uses 3D scans of real locations, but Shores of Loci is all about very environment artist authored levels, lots of grand sweeping vistas and planets hanging in the sky and so on. Basically you go through a series of locations and assemble teetering ramshackle buildings and chunks of landscape, which then grow really big and settle into the water. You can pull the pieces towards you with your hand, and then when you rotate them into roughly the right position and orientation relative to another piece, they snap together.

It's diverting, if kinda annoying when you just can't find the place the piece should go - especially if the answer turns out to be that there's an intermediate piece that floated off somewhere. The environments are well-designed and appealing, it's cool to see the little guys appearing to inhabit them. That said it does kinda just... repeat that concept a bunch. The narrative is... there's a big stone giant who appears and gives you pieces sometimes. That's it basically.

Still, it's interesting to see the different environment concepts. Transitions have this very cool distorted sky/black hole effect.

However, the real thing that got me with this game, the thing that I'm writing about now, was the water. They got planar reflections working. On the Quest! This is something of a white whale for me. Doing anything that involves reading from a render texture is so expensive that it's usually a no-go, and yet here it's working great - planar reflections complete with natural looking distortion from ripples. There's enough meshes that I assume there must be a reasonably high number of draw calls, and yet... it's definitely realtime planar reflections, reflections move with objects, it all seems to work.

There's a plugin called Mirrors and Reflections for VR that provides an implementation, but so far my experience has been that the effect is too expensive (in terms of rendertime) to keep 72fps in a more complex scene. I kind of suspect the devs are using this plugin, but I'm really curious how they optimised the draw calls down hard enough to work with it, since there tends to be quite a bit going on...

Moss

This game's just straight up incredibly cute.

Third person VR games, where you interact with a character moving across a diorama-like level, are a tiny minority of VR games at the moment. I think it's a shame because the concept is fantastic.

Moss is a puzzle-platformer with light combat in a Redwall/Mouse Guard-like setting. The best part of Moss is 1000% interacting with your tiny little mousegirl, who is really gorgeously animated - her ears twitch, her tail swings back and forth, she tumbles, clambers, and generally moves in a very convincing and lifelike way.

Arguably this is the kind of game that doesn't need to be made in VR - we already have strong implementations of 'platformer' for flatscreen. What I think the VR brings in this case is this wonderful sense of interacting with a tiny 3D world like a diorama. In some ways it's sorta purposefully awkward - if Quill walks behind something, you get a glowing outline, but you might need to crane your neck to see her - but having the level laid out in this way as a 3D structure you can play with is really endearing.

Mechanically, you move Quill around with the analogue stick, and make her jump with the buttons, standard stuff. Various level elements can be pushed or pulled by grabbing them with the controllers, and you can also drag enemies around to make them stand on buttons, so solving a level is a combination of moving pieces of the level and then making Quill jump as appropriate.

The fact that you're instantiated in the level, separate from Quill, also adds an interesting wrinkle in terms of 'identification with player character'. In most third person games, you tend to feel that the player character is you to some degree. In Moss, it feels much more like Quill is someone I've been made responsible for, and I feel guilty whenever I accidentally make her fall off a cliff or something.

A lot is clearly designed around fostering that protective vibe - to heal Quill, you have to reach out and hold her with your hand, causing her to glow briefly. When you complete some levels, she will stop to give you a high five or celebrate with you. Even though the player is really just here as 'puzzle solver' and 'powerful macguffin', it puts some work in to make you feel personally connected to Quill.

Since the camera is not locked to the character, the controls are instead relative to the stage, i.e. you point the stick in the direction on the 2D plane you want Moss to move. This can make certain bits of platforming, like moving along a narrow ledge or tightrope, kinda fiddly. In general it's pretty manageable though.

The combat system is straightforward but solid enough. Quill has a three button string, and it can be cancelled into a dash using the jump button, and directed with the analogue stick. Enemies telegraph their attacks pretty clearly, so it's rarely difficult, but there's enough there to be engaging.

The game is built in Unreal, unlike most Quest games (almost all are made in Unity). It actually doesn't feel so very different though - likely because the lighting calculations that are cheap enough to run in Unity are the same ones that are cheap enough to run in Unreal. It benefits a lot from baked lighting. Some things are obvious jank - anything behind where the player is assumed to be sitting tends not to be modelled or textured - but the environments are in general very lively and I really like some of the interactions: you can slash through the grass and floating platforms rock as you jump onto them.

The story is sadly pretty standard high fantasy royalist chosen one stuff, nothing exciting really going on there. Though there are some very cute elements - the elf queen has a large frog which gives you challenges to unlock certain powers, and you can pet the frog, and even give it a high five. Basically all the small scale stuff is done really well, I just wish they'd put some more thought into what it's about. The Redwall/Mouse Guard style has a ton of potential - what sort of society would these sapient forest animals have? They just wanted a fairytale vibe though evidently.

Cutscene delivery is a weak point. You pull back into a cathedral-like space where you're paging through a large book, which is kinda cool, and listening to narration while looking at illustrations. In general I think these cutscenes would have worked better if you just stayed in the diorama world and watched the characters have animated interactions. Maybe it's a cost-saving measure. I guess having you turn the pages of the book is also a way to give you something to do, since sitting around watching NPCs talk is notoriously not fun in VR.

There are some very nice touches in the environment design though! In one area you walk across a bunch of human sized suits of armour and swords that are now rusting - nobody comments, but it definitely suggests that humans did exist in this world at some point. The actual puzzle levels tend to make less sense, they're very clearly designed as puzzles first and 'spaces people would live in' not at all, but they do tend to look pretty, and there's a clear sense of progression through different architectural areas - so far fairly standard forest, swamp, stone ruins etc. but I'll be curious to see if it goes anywhere weird with it later.

Weak story aside, I'm really impressed with Moss. Glad to see someone else giving third person VR a real shot. I'm looking forward to playing the rest of it.

...that's kinda all I played in a while huh. For example, I still haven't given Asgard's Wrath II, the swordfighting game produced internally at Meta that you get free on the Quest 3, a shot. Or Boneworks. I still haven't finished Half Life Alyx, even! Partly that's because the Quest 3 did not get on well with my long USB A to C cable - for some reason it only seems to work properly on a high quality C to C cable - and that restricts me from playing PCVR games that require too much movement. Still though...

Anyway, the game I've been working on these past 10 months should be ready to announce pretty soon. So I'm very excited for that.

[shions-new-blog-of-stuff]

"See for Yourself"

Astarion x OC/Named Tav

Snow falls heavily outside the inn, and the town is quiet. No business for today due to the harsh weather.

Astarion is in his room, and no matter how much he looks in the mirror, he can't see himself.

There's a knock on the door. "Yes? Enter."

Oleander entered his room, her nightgown rustling as she moved. She sees the mirror in his hand.

200 years without a reflection...how awful, she thinks.

"I...umm..been thinking about earlier. And..." Oleander says sheepishly, "Can I...show you something?"

Astarion watches as she holds up a rainbow orb -- what she used to focus her magic. She chants something in Draconic, and with a wave of her hand, soft light began to take shape.

The image projected was a tall, pale, red eyed and (very) handsome elf.

Astarion looks in shock, "Is...that me?"

Oleander nods. "A few days ago, I discovered I could cast this. It's an illusion, nothing more, but... maybe it'll come in handy eventually."

She looks down, blushing. "If you don't mind, I can be your mirror."

Oleander then feels a familiar tingling sensation in her hands, "Oh...not now!"

Astarion is ready to duck and cover -- when Oleander's Magic goes wild, you Never know what is going to happen.

*POOF!*

Astarion stands up, looking around, "Hm, perhaps a dud this time, darling--"

He looks at his hands, and sighs.

"I've turned of all things, PURPLE?!"

He's annoyed, but also amused.

"Um...oops," Oleander says, apologetic.

At least she didn't set the inn on fire this time.

@mishwanders @notrattus @baldursbasics @the-resident-vampire

[theloverscardtarot]

Evan's Next Project - July 26th, 2024

5 of Pents: He may be feeling a little worried about not working or he is feeling the itch to work again. This card suggests loss of a job or not being happy where you currently are in your career. But, if he isnt actually working now, it may mean he misses it and wants to get the ball rolling again. On the other hand maybe he is trying and is experiencing some rejection. This card suggests possible abandonment at work by colleagues or managers. Or maybe he was in the talks for something that fell through?

Queen of Pents: This card suggests there will possibly be a successful woman who will be a mentor and give him advice. This card suggests if he collaborates with her that he should take that advice. She cares about him and will be invaluable to him. I'm guessing it's a well known person.

Queen of Wands: Reading about this card I'm picking up on "you may already be in a leading role in your career". It also suggests determination and passion, which we know he already possesses. Also mentions him being a leader which could mean directing or producing. So, uh...are you going to be in a leading role, Evan?

Ace of Cups: This card touches heavily on a creative field. Some key phrases "If you have been afraid to take on more responsibility, now is the moment to push past these fears, especially true for creative fields". Also, "A good time to embark on new skills and tasks. New projects can be a wellspring of creativity" I still feel like he may get involved with theater and possibly have a lead role. But, it's possible he will direct something as well.

2 of Swords: He may be feeling stuck between two choices. Whether they are scripts or genres or theater vs. movies, he has a decision to make. The blindfolded woman in the card tells us he is currently trying to avoid the decision. Putting blinders on to not have to address it. Or, maybe he is not getting all the information he needs about a particular project and it may be causing delays in his decision making process.

7 of Pents: This card kinda falls in line with the 2S. It suggests he has a lot of different options to choose from, and he is trying to make the best decision. There may be a goal he has in mind and his choice may impact that vision in a positive or negative way.

9 of Cups Rev: This suggests he may be involved in something that is not turning out the way he hoped it would. Too hard to handle, too much or too tedious. It mentions a new job or opening a business. I wonder if he is trying his hand at starting a brand or if it was true he was working for Prada somehow. Whatever it is, he is not wanting to be doing it! Can you imagine Evan starting a clothes line with tan pants, white shirts in various forms and shoes that resemble checkered vans and striped Nikes?

These next 4 cards fell out together and at first glance I thought it meant he may be doing a rom com in the future, but let's break them down.

The Lovers, 8 of Wands, knight of Pents, 9 of Wands

This can signify love at work or a relationship that is platonic, but benefits you both. Or it can signify a platonic relationship that signals romantic feelings. Sounds like a possible romcom to me. It also suggests he might be making a huge transition in his field. I mean that would still point to a romcom! Growing rapidly in his career. May mean a business trip. So, maybe he will be filming on location? Ambition, drive and focus. Suggests having to prove yourself to a prospective employer, which tells me he is still having to audition for some things, as opposed to being offered a role or sought out. He may be feeling exhausted and overworked in this project. It suggests it being half way done. What would be going on right now that we don't see? Maybe this is theater? I can imagine theater would be exhausting. Maybe it's just rehearsals now, because we have not heard anything about him doing stage as far as I know.

King of Swords Side: (U) He might be preparing for a role. "Routines and processes would be beneficial to you right now." Something is challenging him to be the best he can be. He may have a male mentor helping him as well. (R) He may be working with someone domineering and aggressive right now. Somebody who is power hungry. He may also be losing his shit more often and moody. Somebody is making his workplace an unpleasant place to be.

Page of Wands Side: (U) A new project may be starting soon. He will need to evaluate if he's ready to take it on. (R) He may be feeling a disconnect between where he desires to be and where he is. His current work may seem boring or tedious to him. He possibly knows where he wants to be but is unsure how to get there and it could be causing him to lose motivation.

10 of Wands Side: (U) Something he is doing in his career right now is weighing heavy on him. He feels burdened and overworked. The task at hand may be unusually difficult or draining.(R) Seems the burden is lessening. He may have asked for help or whatever he is doing is nearing an end.

Page of Swords: This card points to some sort of apprenticeship, new experience or education or training. It suggests Evan is ambitious, full of energy, intelligent and full of new ideas. We kinda already knew that!!

3 of Pents Rev: May experience some conflict amongst colleagues. Competition. Coworkers may not listen to what others have to say and only think of themselves. Studies may not be going as well as he would like. He might lose motivation or interest. Whatever this new experience is may not sustain.

Empress: Evan, or possibly together with a coworker, will try to lighten the mood and find peace and harmony in the workplace. They will have a nurturing approach.

2 of Wands: This also suggests choosing between two things. Making plans for his future. Charting a path towards his dreams. Possibly traveling or filming on location. I get something about his own business again. I wonder if he wants his own production company some day? Has he mentioned that? If someone knows, please share!

I pulled a Moonology Oracle card to see when a new project might start and got Gibbous Moon "You are very close to achieving your goal" This happens at the very end of the lunar cycle, just before the full moon. Gibbous means "bulging", so in other words the topic we are asking about is ready to hit it's peak!

[ilbenmalpensanteus]

Another day, another drabble or… well, three days because this original installment by me and @mixu covers:

Day 18: I’ll take care of you // Cooking together

Day 12: College AU

Day 29: I know your heart and you know mine

You can read it in Ao3 as well, and maybe — just maybe — leave a comment!

Enjoy ✨

Learning hearts

When the door clicked closed, Naruto drew in a shaky breath.

The entire day had been a freaking nightmare.

First, the final his professor had deemed necessary to schedule at the brink of fucking dawn — Naruto was so sleepy he wasn’t even sure he’d read the questions correctly.

Then, his boss had thought it could be fun to make him switch shifts with creepy Sai at the last minute — so, he ended up with nothing to do but wander around for two hours before actually getting to work.

Last but definitely not least, the bus he usually took to come back to his apartment had been canceled— not delayed, canceled! — forcing him to walk for thirty minutes only to get into his fucking neighbourhood.

He closed his eyes, leaning on the door heavily, and basked in the knowledge of finally — finally! — being home.

When he began to shiver, though, his sweats drenched and his hair stuck on his forehead awkwardly — because obviously it was raining too —, he toed out of his ruined All Stars and shuffled into the kitchen.

He wondered if he could get his boyfriend to-

Oh!

His jaw slackened as his eyes widened in awe, for Sasuke — his perfect, sexy, smart boyfriend — stood there, in front of their counter, resembling the embodiment of a seraphic miracle: stark naked — only an orange apron (barely) hiding his privates — holding in his hand the most sacred idol of Naruto’s religion.

He made Ramen.

Naruto gasped- Sasuke smirked in reply.

“What-?” Was the only thing Naruto managed to croak out, his mind busy trying to put an end to the wrestling match between his hungry stomach and his suddenly attentive dick.

Sasuke shrugged, “You said you had a rough day,” He carefully placed the pot on the stove before walking towards Naruto leisurely.

He pecked his cheek, “Go bathe, then we’ll eat. I rented Jurassic Park.”

“How- What- How do you- Shit!” If his legs had not been frozen, Naruto would have prostrated at his boyfriend’s feet. “I love you so fucking much.”

Sasuke exhaled a breathy chuckle at his confused, dreamy tone, and kissed him again — on his lips, this time — softly, “I know your heart, dobe.”

You own it.

[cheiyunn]

Kimisute main story [3部 ] Part 5

Chapter 5

Side: EpsilonΦ

[Street]

Reiji: Shu, where do you intend to go?

Shu: Does it matter? It just felt suffocating to be holed up like that

Shu: I’ll take a walk out for a bit and maybe when I get back Haruka will be somewhat better

Reiji: …that's new then

Reiji: If you were really concerned about Haruka, I don’t think it was the best choice to leave those 3 together 

Shu: What? Reiji, aren’t you misconstruing something here?

Shu: It’s not that I’m being considerate to Haruka 

Shu: I couldn’t care less if he got pushed back by Kanata and suffered more for it

Reiji: …then, you’re looking for a sort of dissonance?

Shu: Haruka’s music and voice heavily depend on his mental state right? Then wouldn’t it be better if he just broke, is a thing for thought

Reiji: (...he and I are the same, sort of justification then)

Shu: Plus, I’m quite looking forward to what sort of music Haruka and Tadaomi can muster up

Shu: Maybe at this moment, Tadaomi is also joining in and putting pressure on Haruka too

Reiji: It seems that they’re having trouble with the songwriting process at the moment, so are you intending to just watch it go over?

Shu: Yup. Isn’t it more fun to see someone get overwhelmed and sink down in something they thought they had sturdy footing in, right

Shu: And I think the harder he gets stuck in a slump, the better the resulting product will be

Reiji: I understand

Reiji: …my condolences to Haruka

.

[Practice room]

--[Door opens]--

Tadaomi: Haruka-kun, welcome back

Tadaomi: I was thinking about some things, are you willing to listen?

Haruka: ….what is it

Tadaomi: I regret saying things that made me sound like I was waiting on you earlier

Tadaomi: When I thought about it for a bit, Shu-kun did say that he wanted the both of us to create something

Tadaomi: So, rather than having both of our ideas laid out, how about we think this through together

Tadaomi: That way, there's a chance that better ideas can come to fruition

Haruka: …you.. What are you thinking

Tadaomi: I’m only thinking about what I just said?

Haruka: …………fine

Haruka: I’ll join that

Haruka: I have no idea what you’re thinking about but, it’d be faster this way too…

Tadaomi: Fufu, that’s lovely. Then, from the top again, I look forward to working with you, Haruka-kun

.

--[Door opens]--

Kanata: Sounds like you’re havin’ fun. Whatcha chattin’ about? Songwriting?

Haruka: You have nothing to do with this.

Kanata: Aww don’t say that, aniki–

.

--[Door opens]--

Shu: I’m back. Lets restart practice~

Reiji: Haruka, is everything okay now

Haruka: yeah

Kanata: Boo~~ I got interrupted 

Tadaomi: Shu-kun. We’ll work hard on the songwriting okay

Shu: Why are you repeating yourself. Well, I’ll look forward to it then

.

[Skyfox record office]

Reiji: I would like to apologize for taking up your time despite being so busy

Sosui: No, don’t mind it. Lucky timing though, since there was also something I wished to discuss

Reiji: And that is?

Sosui: I want you to relay this to Shu-kun

Sosui: A little while back, this sort of project information started circulating

Reiji: …a 「Sales ranking game」?

Sosui: GENESIS TRAX, where Iryuu Koga is under,  is a worldwide known music label

Sosui: I’m not sure if what’s written there is pure fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that this project has great benefits attached

Sosui: A bunch of labels have already announce their partnering to it as well

Reiji: So EpsilonΦ is to join this too?

Sosui: Yes. I also indeed to offer this to Fujin RIZING! as well but at the moment they’re a little rocky

Reiji: Fujin RIZING! as well?

Sosui: Hm? What do you mean by 「as well」?

Reiji: …To tell the truth, this is what I wanted to discuss today as well but, we’re also a tad rocky these days

Sosui: Is that so

Reiji: You don’t sound very surprised. Possibly you’ve already noticed Haruka’s slump?

Sosui: I did have a thought. But, I didn’t know the exact reasoning as to why. Do you have any ideas as to why, Reiji-kun?

Reiji: …no, there wasn’t anything that stood out to me in particular

Sosui: I see. If possible, I want both EpsilonΦ and Fujin RIZING! to participate in this promotion project and release a single, so maybe just keep this in mind

Reiji: I understand. I’ll relay that to Shu as well

[uefb]

Hi

I hope you don’t mind me asking, but as you know I really enjoy reading some of your fanfic and love the way Newt’s family are written in your universe. I love how Newt’s parents are supportive, especially his dad. I think his dad and Theseus are my favourites.

Anyway I wanted to ask, in your world how would Helious and Rowan react to Newt’s expulsion from Hogwarts? What happened when Newt came home? Or when they were called in after the incident?

Did they treat him with kid gloves? Like go about it delicately like they did with the incident with his uncle in the ministry? Or maybe this time he’s gone too far (as far as they know), so they’re more disappointed and bit more firmer? He’s not a kid anymore so how would that go? Now that’s something interesting I think to explore.

Hello! Good to hear from you! I’m answering this from bed half asleep so forgive me for not going into a ton of detail. But if I put it off I’ll just never reply. Very happy you like how I write the Scamander family

And great question — because their reaction is different from how they treat him after the situation with Hesiod in “The Riot Act”. While still cognitively immature, there’s still a big difference between barely 11 and 16/17…. ‘Kid gloves’ are appropriate when dealing with certain issues at certain ages, but realistic conversation would probably be a better fit for the expulsion at 16.

That being said..

So I actually I have a few versions of their reaction to Newt’s expulsion I’ve been playing around with. But all of them involve Newt going back to live with Rowan eventually, but spending the first month avoiding home, living solely with his dad in London. I write him specifically requesting his father be contacted to pick him up, after which he informs his mother himself, while at Helios’. Newt knows she’ll be disappointed. And he ultimately chooses to figure the first few weeks after expulsion out with Helios precisely because Rowan is struggling to be supportive (and he likely feels ashamed). Rowan, meanwhile, feels she’s tried everything and still she’s ended up with her youngest son, expelled from school, just come of age with absolutely nothing going for him. She’s worried, and frustrated, and angry, and that can be hard for someone like Newt to figure out how to handle, especially bc I don’t headcanon he tells his parents about the entire Leta situation. Which makes him come across as far less sympathetic.

By this point, I write their dad as being somewhat “checked out”. He’s largely given up on parenting by now (I mean, Theseus is well into adulthood, but newt’s still young), as he’s been rather burned out by his own life and some particularly poor coping mechanisms. You can imagine the unspoken strain that puts on a family unit. Helios is of course upset with the situation but he’s not disappointed in Newt in the same way as Rowan (probably for obvious reasons, as he and Newt share a lot of personality traits in addition to some overlapping neurodivergence), so his reaction is pretty tempered. So it’s easier for Newt to hide there, with his dad.

Luckily for both Rowan & Helios, though, Newt immediately gets work at DRCMC and an apothecary in Diagon Alley, so he keeps himself busy, and largely out of trouble. He strikes me as the kind of person who does much better—in many ways—in the world than he does in school (I say, heavily projecting), so I imagine over the course of a few months, he and his mum come back around to understanding one another better. There’s a point at which one just has to accept that (a) this is the unfortunate way of the world and it’s necessary to survival to sometimes just accept it [Newt], and (b) this is just the way some people are — you can cry and scream about it but good luck trying to change something that perhaps just can’t be changed [Rowan]. Neither of them is entirely in the right, and I think they both probably know it, a little bit.

I do headcanon the expulsion as one of the first real cracks in N & T’s relationship, though. Theseus doesn’t abandon him and remains an anchor in an otherwise somewhat unstable family during this time period, but he doesn’t understand him, and it starts to get messy.

One of the reasons I love writing about Theseus and Newt is because neither of them is perfect. They both have canon flaws in how they deal with commitment and conflict. And I’m trying to figure out how to write the expulsion reaction for all of them, so I’ve just been poking at it for a few months, and waiting for it to shape itself out.

So that’s some rambling. Certainly it’s not all my thoughts because I’m in bed but. Would love to know your thoughts too.

[taegularities]

i think i included this as an option last time and you picked the other one so i'm throwing it in again lol say drabble for the first time they slept together at that party? 🥰

fic: songs about you

pairing: fwb!tae x reader, childhood best friends to lovers; fluff, smut warnings: sexual tension, unprotected sex, manhandling, rough sex, fingering, crying, big dick tae, masturbation, drunk and bathroom sex (i seem to love that), they're also so cute :((( wc: 1.7k a/n: awh i remember that it was one of the options 🥺 and you know i love that couple so much, i'll keep coming back to them <333��btw ari, please tell me why this almost made me cry lolll. this took ages omg... also, unedited !!

ask my character! <3

"You remember when you'd invite me to those events during senior year?" you ask, closing your tired eyes for a moment.

Taehyung is as gone as you, perceiving his surroundings in a neverclearing blur. He looks at you with confusion in his starry pupils, and hums, "Hmm?"

"You'd take me to those parties, and I'd hate it here."

"Still hate it?"

"Despise it. You rich people spend money on parties that no one will remember."

"Ouch," Taehyung jokes, "it's not like I'm the host. No need to diss me."

"Well, your eighteenth birthday party was a lot more fun when we went to that burger place. The official, fancy one? Eh."

In your head, your speech is clear, but you bet that you're mumbling and swallowing words; not that it's any kind of challenge to him. He'd understand through your movements alone.

"Tell me then," he says, the tone of his voice shifting. His eyes are dazy, and his breath smells like bitter alcohol. "What was so great about the burger night?"

Your and Taehyung's friendship dates back to an easier time. When you'd gather with your friends, hunched over your homework and projects. Living through high school days, complaining about its pain as though no bigger issues existed.

Back then, you guess they didn't.

Taehyung liked to play the piano to you. The feeling that engulfed your heart back then, listening to every gentle note he gifted you, was still a veiled one.

Today, things have changed. Realities have shifted. Maybe you're not head over heels in love with him – maybe – but you still know what lingers in your heart.

And the inebriated version of you has a lot less inhibitions; a lot less fears to voice her mind.

So you say, "It was just us. You and me. The entire night felt a little different, you know? Maybe because the diner was empty that time..."

"It was empty. I liked it, too."

You move a little, though you soon realise that you shouldn't have – because the world is spinning.

"But it was the first time that I really hoped for you to kiss me."

Wait. What?

Why are you saying that? For fuck's sake.

"Kiss you?" Taehyung asks. When you look at him, his forehead is wrinkled in confusion.

Oh God, what have you done?

"I'm sorry," you hurry to exclaim.

"No, I... wait, tell me more about this."

"...Why?"

"I just. It's not every day that your best friend says anything like that."

"It's so dumb. I know, it's really fucking stupid."

"No, I..."

He gulps. Looks around. The guests are busy conversing, fake laughing, stepping onto their own dresses, discussing whatever the party's purpose might be.

But Taehyung's focus is somewhere else.

Which he proves when snatches the glass off your hand, placing it along with his own on a nearby table.

And then, he's pulling you away from the crowd, somewhere where none of you will be missed.

Your heart bursts behind your chest, hand clutching his in anticipation.

"What are you doing?" you inquire, slower in your heels than him.

"You just..." he shakes his head, whispering your name. Halts when you reach the bathroom, rushing to open the door and pull you inside. "You can't say that and expect me to stay calm."

"Why are you... not ca–"

"I–" He's breathing heavily, blinking slowly. Holding you against the door, not entirely sure what he's supposed to do.

"Why did you never tell me about that?" he prods.

"I... didn't think it was necess–"

"It's important. Of course it is."

And that's all you get. There's no more chance to say much more; the palms on your waist silence you.

So does the way he pins you harder against the door.

And so does the plush mouth that falls on yours, hard and greedy.

Whatever you thought how this evening might evolve... that wasn't it.

The following minutes, the entire night pass in a dense fog. You barely breathe – he doesn't let you.

He explores your body. Kissing up and down your skin. Sheds your clothes, touches every part that you need touched. You've dreamed of this before.

You didn't think it'd actually happen. Ever.

"I've fucked so many women, wishing they were you," he admits at some point, fucked out and drunk beyond belief.

Until now, most of his and your utterances consisted of moans, each others' names, crude curses. Until now, you blamed the booze, the effect it has on you, the craze that flows through your veins.

But the way he's looking at you now... despite his lewd statement... it's something else–

"Have you?" you want to know; a tight knot builds in your tummy.

"This is unreal."

"Tae..." You squirm in his grip, gasping when curled fingers press against a spot inside you. "Fuck me, please. No more wishes... I'm here now."

"Are you sure? God, I..."

"I am," you promise immediately, "I am. I... thought about this a lot." He stares at you in silence and tenderness. Like he can't believe what you're saying. "And besides... I've always wanted to be the one to wet your dick."

Taehyung chuckles, a deep, soft sound directly from his chest. He looks sweet like that, but when his lips return to your neck, his demeanour changes.

Buried in your skin, pecking your shoulder, he guides his cock to your clit. He doesn't do much yet – except for the torturous teasing, rubbing the head against your nub, toying with your patience.

And when he's had enough, he leans back.

A strong hand turns you swiftly, pressing your cheek against the door and pulling your ass back until you're angled. Palms firmly against the door.

His length continues to prod your entrance, never quite shoving it inside, no matter how wet you already are.

But he breaks. Of course he does.

You hear him spit into his palm, and close your eyes in anticipation, taking a deep breath before he finally gives in.

You saw his member just a minute ago – if it's anyhow as menacing as it looks, you're screwed in the best way possible.

Quite literally.

"Careful, yeah? You'll tell me when it's too much?" he says. His voice is strained. He's heavy breathing.

"Mhmm..."

And that's when you mewl.

Louder than before, shaking in your spot.

Taehyung is quick to slap a hand against your mouth, muffling your sounds as he dives in inch by inch. "Nod if you're okay."

You do. Though you can't suppress the constant moans that fall out of you. And he makes sure to silence that sound.

There's something about it.

Having your best friend and long-time crush fuck you against the door. Thrust into you gently first, before he picks up on pace and rails you into oblivion. The way he's controlling you and your undying moans, hand never leaving your lips.

The tears that escape your eyes fall on his fingers, and when he notices the sensation, he tenses. "You good?"

You nod hastily, sure that your make up's smeared. God, you'll need to leave after that.

"Good. Holy fuck, that's hot."

Which is when you realise that he didn't tense solely because he was worried.

But because he's enjoying your reaction.

Of course he is. Kinky bastard.

"More? Harder?"

His suggestions come broken, every other syllable swallowed. Fuck, he's battering your pussy. Ruining you, slamming his hips against your ass.

Shit, how did you get here?

You nod once more, and he laughs, presumably surprised that he's still not pushed you to your limits.

Delightful.

So he drills you rougher, burying himself to the hilt, balls deep inside you; breathing hard, losing his mind when your fingers shift to your clit.

A minute later, you're coming undone – swaying so hard that you reckon you must be moving in circles, until you realise that it's just in your head.

Mind empty, you let the high ebb down; he’s still fucking you, chasing his own release, guiding you through your orgasm.

And when he pushes in one last time, remaining in you with his entire cock buried, you think you’re dreaming.

The deep, reverberating groans of his are insanely dizzying. You can’t do this. You can’t– how did you–

You didn’t know. You didn’t know that intimacy with him entailed all that. Where was this insanity all your life? Why didn’t you reveal your thoughts to him earlier?

Fuck.

“How... was that?” he dares to question.

“It was...”

“What you imagined? What you wanted?” There’s cockiness in his voice. But somehow, there’s worry, too. “Better... worse?”

“It was– just right.”

“Okay. Good.”

He remains in the position, leaning in to kiss your shoulder, your back, your arms. Then, he pulls out, immediately backing away to grab some toilet paper. He cleans you up; you wince.

And then, he says, “Look at me.”

You turn around; the ache between your legs is too tangible. You’ll feel it harder tomorrow, you know.

Still swaying, you slip your eyelids open. Gaze into his; there’s affection and post-coital bliss in his stare. Something you can’t decipher as he brushes your hair back.

Thumbs wipe the remnants of your tears away, hopefully clearing your cheeks of the make up.

You don’t know what he’s thinking until he claims, “You’ve always been so pretty, Swan.”

Your eyes widen; you put your palm on his hand, lifting it to your lips to plant a gentle kiss on his skin. “And you, Tae.”

“Do you wanna leave?”

“Yeah,” you answer, no hesitation in your words. “Please.”

And so you do.

Goodbyes are uttered in a hurry, the car ride in some cab a faint memory.

At his place, you fall into each other deeper. Kiss every inch of him, hugging him close, moaning the night away.

To you, this is still just a drunken night’s mistake. You’re sure you’ll talk about it in the morning. Think about the next steps in your relationship.

You’ll wonder what the hell happened, and how a single confession could lead to something this big.

You won’t know that it’s the beginning of something you’ll never be able to fathom.

Or that there’s unbearable pain ahead. Joy. Lust. Love.

Or that you’ll become his song; the very last he’ll ever play on loop.

–

i’ll edit this later, but oh my god i hope it was okay !!! some quick smut :’) lemme know what u think <3

[ali-anne-undertale-stoof]

Guess who's back? Back again?

Jerry.

Ooh, boy. This chapter turned out longer than I expected. Sorry this took so long, guys! Enjoy!

Second half

Chapter 7: Jerry

It was a relatively clear day in Snowdin. As clear as you're gonna get with the snow everywhere, anyway. Within the hustle and bustle of the town, one could hear children playing in the snow and adults making dark jokes to each other to take their minds off the fact that they aren't able to see the sun. Grillby's was especially busy, as it always is on a Saturday. And a particular skeleton was slowly becoming more and more of a regular there as time went on.

Funnily enough, throughout their entire few weeks of living in Snowdin, Papyrus had never been to Grillby's before. Why? Well...

"SANS!! WHY ARE YOU TAKING ME TO A GREASE HOLE?!?!"

That's why.

"come on, papyrus, i've already told you. there are plenty of nice people there. you might as well get out sometime, right? you can't spend all your time trying to get friends on social media. you gotta find people in real life too."

"BUT WHY AT GRILLBY'S?!?!" Papyrus whined loudly. Sans sighed heavily through his nose. As much as the boys try to keep a balanced relationship, there were times where one of them had to take the "big brother" shoes. And it was apparently Sans' turn today. It made sense, after all. Sans is the older twin, after all, even if it was only by four minutes.

"come on, baby bro." Sans teased. Papyrus' eyes shifted into his iconic googly eyes. Now they're getting somewhere. "you're not gonna let a little bit of grease get in the way of being popular, are you? i thought you were the great papyrus."

"WELL, THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS STANDARDS!! VERY HIGH ONES, IN FACT!!"

"yeah? well, from what i heard, the great papyrus is willing to overcome any obstacle to get what he wants, including 'disgusting grease holes'. unless... you know..." Sans shrugged smugly. "i heard the rumors wrong."

Papyrus' strange googly eyes bulge out of his head.

"NO, YOU DID NOT HEAR THE RUMORS WRONG!!! I WILL PROVE IT TO YOU THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN OVERCOME ANY OBSTACLE!!!" Stubborn as ever, but now fueled by something else to prove, Papyrus briskly stormed into Grillby's, head held high. Meanwhile, Sans chuckled to himself about his brilliant victory, before casually strolling in after him.

Papyrus wanted to slap Sans in the face. As soon as he stormed in, his nasal cavity was immediately hit with the repungent smell of grease. It made him want to throw up. Can skeletons throw up? Oh, does Papyrus hope they do.

And as expected on a Saturday, it was almost filled to the brim with various families wanting to get brunch for their kids. The chatter was constant, it almost became white noise. However, Papyrus didn't mind this. After all, Sans was right, there are a lot of people he can befriend here! Maybe even show off his really cool muscles to them!

He still wanted to slap Sans in the face, though. Yes. Slap the skeleton next to him. Right across the face.

"ow!"

"WHOOPSY DOOPSY! SORRY, SANS! REFLEX!"

"it's okay, bro." Sans rubbed his sore cheekbone from the impact.

That feeling where you feel bad about something you instantly regret because of your intrusive thoughts... That's the emotion Papyrus just experienced.

"SORRY AGAIN ANYWAY!"

"hey, it's cool. fuhgeddaboudit."

"WHERE ON EARTH DID YOU LEARN THAT ACCENT?"

"where'dja learn yours?"

"TOUCHÈ."

As the brothers walked along to the bar, Papyrus almost tripped over a couple of bags, a couple of kids, and Sans. He gripped onto a table nearby just to stand up straight. And of course Sans was laughing at him, because what else would he do?

"STOP LAUGHING! IT'S NOT MY FAULT THIS PLACE IS BUSY!!!" There were two things Papyrus' foot stomping has succeeded at doing. Making Sans laugh more, and catching the attention of the dog monsters that were sitting at the table. They were in their armor, which helped Papyrus recognise them from the snow boulder incident.

"Bork! Bork!"

"(What is it, Lesser?)"

"Oh, hi, Sans!"

The brothers whipped their heads around. There they were. The entire K9 Unit, staring at them with such interest. They already seem to recognise Sans, and Papyrus too, to an extent. Papyrus swore that he saw them before, but he doesn't exactly remember their faces.

"WOWIE... UM, H-HELLO!!!" Papyrus tried to present a more casual stance, much like his brother. Whether he succeeded or not, Papyrus was unsure.

Dogamy gave a little yelping laugh. "Hey, Sans! This must be your brother!"

Dogaressa followed suit. "(He's a goofy one, isn't he?)"

And Doggo. "Hey, I'm getting this funny vision. He looks still, but I can only see moving things."

Huh. That's weird. Sans checked on his brother, only to find that Papyrus is shaking so hard that he's rattling. Whether he's excited or nervous or both, Sans couldn't tell. Either way, Sans was excited to play hype man.

"yup, this is my baby brother. in the lack of flesh."

Papyrus was pulled out of his trance by sheer outrage. "WHAT?!?!?!"

"(Wait, what?)"

"I thought you said he was your twin brother, Sans."

"oh, trust me. he is. but with the way he's been acting recently, he might as well be my awesomest baby bro ever!"

If that wasn't already humiliating enough, Sans just had to take the opportunity to pinch Papyrus' cheekbones and pat his skull like he was some sort of cat. All this just made Papyrus' eyes bulge out his skull even more.

And the teasing. Oh boy, the teasing!

"he's just my previous baby bro on his way to get some milkies!"

The dogs howled with laughter. Papyrus did not regret slapping Sans anymore.

"SANS, GET OFF OF ME!!! FOUR MINUTES!!! WE ARE SEPARATED BY FOUR!!!! MINUTES!!!!"

"(Oh, don't worry! I'm sure Sans was just having a laugh. Isn't that right, dear?)"

"Yes, that appears to be true, my love."

"(Hey, actually, you appear to be rather energetic. We could use some of that.)"

The teasing was forgotten. "REALLY?"

"(Yeah! Sometimes we like to go out into the woods and play fetch.)"

"sounds fetching." Sans winked.

"SANS!!!" Papyrus scoffed, but the dogs' activities sounded... enticing. He didn't know why he found it enticing, he just did. After all, he's chewed his fair share of sticks as a baby bones. And shredded his stuffed toys. And Sans'. He never actually confessed to Sans about that. He probably still thinks a raccoon did it. Yikes.

Dogamy spoke up. "If you want, you can come along!"

"ME?"

Papyrus looked at Sans for confirmation that this was actually happening. All he got was a nod back. That means... That means...

"OF COURSE!!! BUT I MUST WARN YOU, THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS NEVER BEEN BEATEN AT FETCH, AND I CERTAINLY WON'T BE BEAT ANY TIME SOON!!!"

"We'll hold you up to that, mister."

"PAPYRUS."

"(Papyrus!)"

The dogs howled in celebration. Papyrus could hardly contain his excitement! He could... He could... "hang out" with a group of friends??!! This is the best day ever!

He didn't notice Sans pulling him away until they were sitting at the counter.

"so, what are ya hankerin' for?"

"SANS, YOU'RE NOT A COWBOY." Papyrus crossed his arms, unimpressed.

Sans just shrugged in response. "yeah, i know, but the accent is fun."

"HMPH. FINE, THEN. I'LL HAVE YOUR FINEST MILK, MR GRILLBY, PLEASE!"

The literal hot head with a cool mind gave a simple nod and wandered into the kitchen.

"HMM... HE DOESN'T TALK MUCH, DOES HE?"

"nah, some other guy talks for him."

"IS HE SHY OR SOMETHING? MAYBE HE NEEDS A GREAT PAPYRUS SPEECH!"

"no... no speeches, please." Sans still hasn't gotten over the last time Papyrus made one of his inspirational speeches. It was mostly bragging, to be blunt. But then again, Sans always found them inspiring. Too bad that other guy didn't.

Grillby worked fast. Soon enough, a fresh glass of milk was placed in front of Papyrus, as well as a plate of complementary fries. Papyrus closely inspected the fries, and Sans just took one.

"WHAT? HEY!"

"what? they're greasy. greasy fries." Sans chomped on another fry.

There was no stopping him. Papyrus just let Sans have the fries. See, even The Great Papyrus knew when to throw in the towel! Or throw a door wide open.

The door flew wide open and didn't close. Who could be rude enough to NOT close the door behind them in a town as cold as this?

There was only one answer.

Jerry.

"Eurgh! This place is filthy!" Said the filthy monster, covered in slime and snot.

Everyone in the vicinity collectively groaned. Everyone except for Papyrus, that is. The newbie was just mostly confused. What was it about this guy that made everyone groan like that, including his brother?

"SANS, WHO IS THAT?"

Sans rolled his eyes and tried to avoid having Jerry in his vision. "a little turd bag, that's 'who's that'."

Papyrus didn't get it. So he just observed.

Jerry swiftly went over to the dogs' table and knocked the cards over, banging the table like some sort of defective drum.

"Waiter! Waiter! Are you going to give me service or not?"

Grillby nonchalantly cleaned a glass. Nobody could see his face, but they can tell he wasn't happy to have to serve this guy. His tense shoulders spoke volumes.

"Waiter! Waiter! Oh my god, what is taking so long?!"

Jerry stormed over to the counter, pushing away two monsters that were carrying their food to their table. He slammed his fist down right next to where Sans is sitting. Sans instinctively flinched and leaned as far away from him as possible.

"Hey, hot head! Are you going to serve me or what?!"

Sans could just see the slime dripping down from the guy from here. He briefly entertained the thought of a skeleton throwing up something other than magic. Is that even possible without a stomach? He didn't know, but he was tempted to see if he could.

Grillby carefully placed the glass down and put on his best "polite customer service" act towards the ill-tempered monster.

"Finally!" Jerry groaned with exaggeration. "By the way, is your 'establishment' fireproof, or are you just barely keeping yourself from burning down the whole place? You don't look like you belong in Snowdin. Better be careful, you might start a forest fire."

Sans had just about enough of this nonsense. "gee, jerry, good question. you know, i've always wondered a little about you myself. are you supposed a squid, or are you just something i had to scrape off the bottom of my shoe? better be careful, you might start a pandemic with that snotty mouth of yours."

Papyrus was absolutely astounded by the sheer amount of sass Sans just gave. And judging by the 'oohs' and 'got hims' from the crowd, it appears that he was justified. Why?

Meanwhile, the flame didn't say anything, but his flames flickered in approval at Sans' comment. However, customer service does come as a priority to the guy. Too bad he couldn't just kick him out without a proper excuse, especially since the Royal Guards are around.

So they're stuck with him. Perfect.

"Oh, great. The skinless freak's back."

"HEY!!!" Papyrus raised his voice. A lack of manners is one thing, but insulting his brother is crossing the line! "I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, SANS IS THE SECOND BEST SKINLESS FREAK AROUND!"

"Ew, there's two of them?!"

"hey. watch your bigger butt hole, buddy."

"Ugh, fine. I'm sitting as far away from these two as possible."

With that, Jerry stormed over to the other side of the restaurant and placed his mucus-covered body down on the chair in the corner. Just where he belongs.

Papyrus... was very taken aback from that interaction. What is with that guy? He came in here, was rude to the waiter, insulted his brother... He's a piece of work. But maybe... Maybe?

"GOSH... IS HE HAVING A BAD DAY OR SOMETHING?"

"bro, he makes bad days happen." Sans reaches down to grab a fry, but he hesitates. He inspects the fries for any slime that might have dripped into the bowl instead.

"BUT I DON'T GET IT. WHY ELSE WOULD HE GO SO FAR AS TO MAKE OTHERS MISERABLE? WHEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE A BAD DAY, I SMILE AND TRY TO BRING JOY TO OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES BECAUSE IT CHEERS ME UP!! BUT... I KNOW NOT EVERYONE IS LIKE THAT. PERHAPS HE NEEDS A NEW PERSPECTIVE."

"Nah, man. There's no changing that guy. Jerry's the WORST." A slobby fish-like monster, by the name of Zeeds, spoke up. "Like seriously. The worst. Any redeeming qualities he might have had have been squashed out of him a long time ago. Some people are just downright despicable."

Papyrus slammed his hands on the table, sporting a determined expression. "NO!!! NO ONE IS COMPLETELY BAD!!! EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE THE CHANCE TO MAKE GOOD CHOICES!!! AND I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM THE KING OF GOOD CHOICES!!!!" The lanky skeleton climbed onto the table and struck the coolest pose he can muster. Somehow, despite being indoors, his vermilion scarf flapped in the wind. What wind? Delta knows! It's cool!!! And what's even cooler was what Papyrus did next.

"JERRY I-DON'T-KNOW-YOUR-LAST-NAME!!!" He made sure to grab Jerry's attention... by pointing at him like some kind of disgruntled superhero? "I HAVE NOTICED THAT YOU... ARE A COMPLETE WEIRDO!!! AND A JERK, AND YOU'RE TOTALLY GROSS, AND I WOULD PREFER IT IF I NEVER HAVE TO TOUCH YOU WITH A 20 FOOT POLE!!!! BUT I KNOW THAT BENEATH ALL OF THAT GROSSNESS IS A MONSTER WITH THE POTENTIAL TO MAKE GOOD CHOICES AND TURN HIMSELF AROUND!!! SO!!!!"

He leaped off the table in a flourish, landing like a superhero in the middle of the restaurant. As if he wasn't the centre of attention before...

"YOU, JERRY, NEED GUIDANCE!!!! AND WHAT BETTER GUIDANCE THAN THIS DASHING SKELETON RIGHT HERE!?!? THAT'S RIGHT!!! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM OFFERING TO BECOME..."

He slid towards Jerry with a spin. One could get the impression that Papyrus was a theatre kid of some kind.

"YOUR FRIEND!!!"

The room fell silent as guards and regulars alike sat and wondered... What the hell was Papyrus getting himself into? Sans especially should be embarrassed but... Gosh, his brother was just so cool, he couldn't help but stare at him with wide eyes and a large smile.

Jerry, on the other hand, was not interested nor amused. All Papyrus got out of that was a simple, "Okay." And then he got out his phone and started connecting to Grillby's WiFi.

"WELL, THAT SOUNDS LIKE GOOD NEWS TO ME!!!"

Meanwhile, a certain guard dog with a black mask tutted from the large table near the centre of the room.

"Man, that kid is screwed."

The other dogs, even though they hate to admit it, had to agree with Doggo on that one. He was screwed.

--------

There has GOT to be some good in Jerry, Papyrus thought as he walked around in little circles just outside of the library. There just HAS to be! All monsters were taught from the moment they learn about souls that monsters were made of love, hope, and compassion. It was even the textbooks, and as Papyrus knows, the textbooks are never wrong! Well, except for this annoying typo he found in Sans' astronomy book, but other than that, it's never wrong! Surely it's not just propaganda... right?

Right! So that meant all monsters have compassion deep down inside! Including Jerry! Jerry, who's... next to a tree, poking a poor antlered kid.

"Watch your antlers! They're bigger than my grandma's crusty toenail!" Jerry screamed at the poor kid, slapping her antlers around willy-nilly.

The poor kid stuttered. "I don't think I needed to know that..."

"Oh my god, and I didn't need to see your snivelling face! Get out of here!"

Papyrus couldn't help but feel bad for the girl. She can't help her antlers! Besides, they weren't even that big! Jerry must have walked into her when he wasn't looking, and then pinned the blame on her! Now, that just won't do! Someone has to step in to help that child! It's a good thing The Great Papyrus was around!

Without hesitation, Papyrus briskly walked over. "HEY, JERRY, FRIEND???"

Jerry reflexively let out a loud groan when he heard Papyrus' voice.

"NOW, THAT JUST WASN'T NICE!!!" He waggled his finger and tutted like a mother. "IT'S NOT HER FAULT FOR HAVING ANTLERS!! JUST LIKE IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT FOR HAVING GROSS WARTS!!!"

The deer girl snickered. Jerry gave him the death glare. Papyrus wasn't deterred, however.

"NOW, WHEN WE SAY SOMETHING WE DIDN'T MEAN, OR WHEN WE MAKE A MISTAKE THAT ENDS UP HURTING ANOTHER PERSON, WE APOLOGISE!! SURELY YOU KNOW HOW TO APOLOGISE, RIGHT? EVERYONE HAS APOLOGISED AT LEAST ONCE IN THEIR LIVES, SO THERE'S NO SHAME IN DOING IT!!! IN FACT, IT CAN REALLY PUT YOU IN SOMEONE'S GOOD GRACES WHEN YOU DO IT CORRECTLY!!! SO TRY IT!!! APOLOGISE TO THE ANTLERED GIRL!!!"

There was only one sentence on Jerry's mind. 'Are you serious?!' But alas, this guy wasn't going to leave unless he actually tried, so...

"Ick... Fine. I'm sorry your antlers are so ugly and huge."

"NOT LIKE THAT!!!"

Jerry had enough. Backhand!!!

Papyrus easily caught it. The antlered girl took this opportunity to run away.

"NOW, THAT JUST WON'T DO!!!" Papyrus cringed at the slime the action got on his glove. Note to self: wash gloves thoroughly. "JERRY, I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU!! A REAL APOLOGY CONSISTS OF ADMITTING THAT YOU WERE WRONG, AND A PROMISE TO OWN UP TO YOUR MISTAKE, LIKE APOLOGISING FOR A LOUSY, MEDIOCRE PUZZLE WITH A BETTER, MORE FIERY PUZZLE!!! BUT THIS WAS JUST A BACKHANDED APOLOGY!!! LITERALLY." He was all too glad to let go of Jerry's wrist. "NOW, LET ME WALK YOU THROUGH A PROPER APOLOGY!! FIRST, YOU-"

Jerry groaned loudly. You could almost hear the bile in his throat since it sounded more like he was gargling.

--------

Perhaps Papyrus was wrong about Jerry.

Perhaps he just had the wrong approach towards him.

Perhaps there was more to him than what meets the eye.

And there is only one way to find out!

Papyrus didn't appreciate the woods enough. Usually, when he went into the woods, he was always building snowmen and throwing snowballs at his brother. He doesn't tend to slow down and appreciate the serenity of the landscape. But now... he is! And who better to appreciate it with than the new friend he's trying to get to know?

...Well, okay, there is one other person that Papyrus would prefer to spend time with much more, but that's besides the point. This was about getting to know what's inside of Jerry's soul, after all. Surely, there must be some good deep down inside, right?

"AREN'T THE WOODS SO NICE AT THIS TIME OF YEAR? YOU KNOW, I HEARD WINTER IS ON ITS WAY... ON THE SURFACE, OF COURSE!! NYEH HEH HEH!! IT'S ALWAYS WINTER IN THIS SIDE OF THE UNDERGROUND, AM I RIGHT??" Papyrus glanced at Jerry with a smile. Unfortunately, the squid thing couldn't care less. He was too busy playing a mobile game on his phone to pay attention. Papyrus suppressed a small sigh. Teenagers are hard. Maybe he just had to engage.

"OOH, WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING THERE?" He tries. He really tries.

Jerry just gave a grunt of dismissal. Teenagers.

"IT LOOKS FUN!!! NOT AS FUN AS PUZZLES, OF COURSE, B-BUT IT LOOKS ENTICING!!!" Yeah, lying through your teeth is the way to go, good job, Papyrus!

Jerry didn't catch on to the lie. Because he didn't pay attention at all. Dang it.

Papyrus felt like a twig that was about to snap. "JERRY, PLEASE, I AM TRYING TO ENGAGE WITH YOU HERE!!! WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO?!?!"

That got his attention.

"What do I like to do? Play Human Raider Dungeons, that's what I like to do."

"HUMAN RAIDER WHAT WHAT?"

"You're so dense." Jerry groaned. "It's only the top selling MMORPG in the entire underground. You build your monster armies and raid human civilizations. And bonus points, you get to beat up other players while you're at it."

Jerry chuckled sinisterly. "I do love slaying noobs, especially little kids. They get so angry!" He continued with his evil snickering, which Papyrus wasn't... too pleased about. But hey, it's just a video game! It's not like- Oh, and he's trolling kids now and calling them swear words. Why is he like this?

"UM... SO!!!" Papyrus almost put his scarf in his mouth to chew, before he thought of another question. "WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?"

"Am emperor dictator."

"OH... I... SEE? ANYTHING ELSE?"

"Rich enough to make the poor grovel at my feet."

"HOW ORIGINAL." Papyrus snarked. "AND WHAT DO YOU HOPE FOR? YOU KNOW, FOR THE SURFACE WORLD?"

Jerry turned to Papyrus and gave him the most sinister look one could think of. "The complete and total destruction of humanity."

Well... Now Papyrus wants to run and hide! But no! He must stand up and face him! After all, this is someone he's trying to find the good in, despite the difficulty level being REALLY REALLY HIGH!

"WELL... YOU WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST ONE TO SAY THAT?" After all, why would that human hunting policy be in place if not for at least some humans being 'destroyed'? Oh god, this is awful. Papyrus was getting nowhere with this. Well, except the fact that Jerry had warmed up to him enough to open up... That's a start?

--------

Nobody could be that detestable without good reason! After all, how can a baby be born evil? Surely something must have happened to make Jerry this way! At least that's what Papyrus thought to himself as he asked Jerry for a little "playdate" at his house. He even made sure to look forward to it, despite the truth that he really REALLY didn't.

"WOWIE, I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M GOING TO STAY AT A FRIEND'S HOUSE!!!" Papyrus forced himself to act cheerful, but even the second-densest individual can see how much he's straining himself to smile. "I'VE NEVER ACTUALLY DONE THIS BEFORE!! TALK ME THROUGH IT!!!"

Jerry gave Papyrus a side-eyed glance. "You never went to someone else's house before? I'm not surprised."

"THEN YOU MUST HAVE SEEN IT BEFORE, HUH? WELL, NO WORRIES!!" Papyrus whipped out a special handbook. "I SNAGGED A GUIDE ON HOW TO BE A GOOD GUEST FROM THE LIBRARY!!! THIS PLAYDATE WILL BE AN OPTIMAL EXPERIENCE!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!!!"

Jerry rolled his eyes and unlocked the door to his house. It's only one of many houses around the back of Snowdin. It's way off the usual path through the Underground, but it's not exactly hidden. The neighbourhood seemed rather cozy, actually.

The house, not so much. The repungent smell of slime and grease filled Papyrus' nasal cavity, and the house itself was a state. Litter and half-eaten food occupied every desk, tabletop, and shelf. He almost wanted to barf. Who was in charge of cleaning around here?! Not to mention the claustrophobic entrance corridor. There were stacks upon stacks of empty boxes, and the cupboard under the nearby stairs was overflowing with random paraphernalia, from weights that were likely never used to pots and pans that should belong in the kitchen, but somehow don't, all the way to straight up GARDEN supplies. They didn't have a garden that would call for that much plant food! It's all SNOW! What plants did they expect to grow in a town that was constantly filled with SNOW?!

Well, one thing's for sure. Papyrus could now justify in his head why Jerry was always so dirty. He almost felt bad for the guy.

He flipped through the guest rulebook.

"Step 1: Compliment the host's home."

Of course...

"WOOOOOOW!" The grossed out skeleton put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest, like he's playing the part of a proud friend. "YOUR HOME IS... UHH... IT HAS CHARACTER!"

"Mom leaves her stuff everywhere. She doesn't bother to clean up half the time." Jerry said before briskly walking through the door to the right. It appeared to be the living room. Hopefully it was cleaner than whatever... this is.

This was clearly a home of neglect. At least Papyrus is getting somewhere now. And that somewhere would be the living room. Hopefully it was...

Nope. Not even close. He couldn't even tell the difference between sofa, floor and trash. He doesn't know how, but somehow it smelled even worse than before. And the random stuff just piled up EVERYWHERE. Is Jerry's mom a hoarder?

Oh, wait. There she is, sitting on the only armchair that wasn't already covered in trash. She looked a lot like Jerry, except she was bigger, wider and has a pale brownish- purple complexion. Oh, and she has less warts, which is always a plus. Well! No time to delay! Papyrus flipped through his handy handbook.

"Step 2: Shake host's hand and greet them politely."

Well well well, Papyrus thought. Don't mind if I do!

"HELLO!!! YOU MUST BE JERRY'S MOTHER!!!"

Her voice came out rather raspy, but sweet at the same time. "Greetings, young man! Oh, it has been such a long time since we had guests. Apologies for the mess. I've been meaning to organise everything for a while, but, well... There just hasn't been enough space for it all, unfortunately. But enough of that. Where are my manners? My name is Terri. And yes, I'm Jerry's mother."

Her smile was gross, but somewhat endearing. Papyrus didn't know what to think about this. Well... It couldn't hurt to be polite, especially since she is.

"PAPYRUS." He tentatively reached out to shake her hand... It was covered in slime. Yup. Definitely going to have to wash his gloves.

"May I offer you a refreshment?"

Before Papyrus could answer, Terri pressed a button on the armrest and all of a sudden, little wheels sprouted out from the bottom of the armchair. She used the controls to slowly roll across the room, knocking over a lamp and a painting of a painting... of a painting of a painting, and so on. The paintingception didn't stand a chance... Well, that explained the mess, anyway.

When she came back, she was holding a plate full of expired and mouldy food. It made Papyrus want to cringe, but he didn't know what to do. He turned to the guidebook for guidance.

"Step 3: Always accept the host's refreshments."

Life had it out for Papyrus, it seemed. But this book was written by an expert, so he had to comply.

"UM... SURE?" He carefully took the plate and... just stared at the mould. There's no way he was eating this. He wouldn't hear the end of it from Sans if he did.

Maybe he could feed them to Sans?

No. No. That would make Papyrus a horrible brother if he made Sans eat this garbage. Sans didn't deserve that! He deserved nice things like pink cake with sprinkles and very little icing!

Maybe he could even feed it to that mangy mutt he regularly encounters? It is very tempting to...

Papyrus' train of thought was interrupted by yet another crash. This time, it was an ugly green vase that was knocked down by Terri's sofa wheelchair thing, swiftly followed by her accidentally knocking into the computer desk.

Jerry, who was playing Human Raider Dungeons on the computer, jerked towards his mother in a fit of rage.

"Mom! Keep your paraplegic butt away from my game!"

"Sorry, son!" Terri braked her chair with a sigh. Poor mother, Papyrus thought. She seemed like a nice person as well. What did she do to deserve a son like Jerry?

"JERRY, THAT WAS RUDE!"

As usual, Jerry just scoffed at Papyrus' scolding. What else could the cool skeleton do, anyhow?

"Oh, don't worry about that, my dear. Jerry's just going through puberty, you know how it is." Terri tried to reassure Papyrus. It was a valiant effort.

Puberty doesn't excuse anything, though. Papyrus knew that by experience.

Terri made an effort to smile. "Here, how about I show you some pictures of my little boy, huh? I've always wanted to do this."

"MOM!!!!!!" Jerry snapped.

"He's never had a real friend before."

"That's NOT true!!!!"

Papyrus let out a little laugh. Looking at Jerry's childhood photos sounded like a great idea! That way, Papyrus can try to find the catalyst for Jerry's borderline evil behaviour! It's perfect!!!

He stuck a pose. "WHY OF COURSE!!! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD LOVE TO SEE THEM!!!!"

A low embarrassed growl rumbled from the boy at the computer desk. At the same time, a slightly gross but charming smile spread on the wheelchair-bound mother's face.

"Come over here, dear." She pat the arm of the chair, motioning for Papyrus to sit. After a moment of hesitation, Papyrus sat uncomfortably on the arm of the wheelchair, watching as the lady pulled out a photo album from the nearest bookshelf, and flickered through it. The photo album looked practically vintage, with photos dating all the way back to when Terri and what Papyrus could assume is Jerry's dad were dating. Soon enough, she got to Jerry's baby pictures.

The first picture of Jerry as a newborn was innocent enough. A baby Jerry, being carried by a hospitalised Terri. Terri in question was connected to some sort of IV that pumped magic into her system. Terri was never the picture of perfect health, Papyrus noted.

"AWW, HOW SWEET!!!" Papyrus made a show of how innocent the picture looked. "WAS THIS WHEN JERRY WAS BORN?"

"Close! This was a few days afterwards. I was in the hospital for quite some time. Giving birth can be quite dangerous when your magic reserves were already low to begin with." The mother smiled with a wistful gleam in her eyes. Almost as if she's... longing for something to return. "Here's a life lesson, my dear. Never take the things you can do for granted. Because you'll never know if, or when, they will be taken away from you."

Terri stared through the photo album and into her lap, leaving Papyrus to connect the dots. Oh... Oh, how sad.

It didn't take long for Terri to look at Papyrus and smile again.

"But you're very young and sprightly! And a skeleton, to boot. I heard skeletons live a long time."

"Y-YEAH!!! 250 YEARS, GIVE OR TAKE!! NYEH HEH HEH... HEH..." Papyrus began chewing on his scarf. He didn't know how long he can take this heavy atmosphere.

Terri nodded wistfully. "Yes, yes... A long, long time indeed, my dear..."

Papyrus tried to think of something to say that would break the ice, but...

...

In a mild frenzy, Papyrus just flipped the page, bringing Terri out of her sad, sad mind.

The next photos consisted of an innocent baby Jerry, doing the typical baby things. Sleeping, eating, taking a bath... Committing arson... Wait, what?

Oh, Delta, he actually committed arson?!?! And Papyrus thought Scripts couldn't get any paler. Any colour he would have had in his face was completely gone when he saw that photo!

And to make matters even worse, Terri suppressed a fond giggle. She was so fond of this moment that she TOOK A PICTURE OF IT?!

"T-TERRI?! WHY ON EARTH DO YOU HAVE A PICTURE OF JERRY SETTING THE FOREST ON FIRE!?!?!"

Her giggles sounded more and more deranged the longer Papyrus heard them. "Oh, you know how babies can be, my dear. They get rather cranky when they don't get their milkies on time!"

The notorious Papyrus googly eyes made yet another appearance, coupled with a classic skeleton jaw drop. It's a good thing Papyrus didn't have the type of mandible that could easily disconnect. That would've been a hassle.

Ah, so Jerry was... like THAT... since he was a baby, then. Good to know...

Meanwhile, the obnoxiously loud computer game only became more noticeable once Papyrus had solid proof that Jerry was just like this since infancy. How can a monster lean into his... BAD side so much? Papyrus doesn't understand... He CAN'T understand...

"GET OUT OF MY WAY, NOOBS!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" Jerry's snotty cackle obnoxiously rang through the entire living room. And it just kept going.

Something unexpected occurred.

"YEAH, JERRY!!!!! DESTROY THOSE NOOBS!!!! LEAVE THAT KID IN THE DUST!!!!! MAKE SURE THEY KNOW HOW PATHETIC THEY ARE!!!!!! WAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

Oh, Delta. Papyrus really needed to get out of here. This family is insane!

And Terri was such a sweet lady too... But as it turned out, she had just been encouraging Jerry to be this way... That wasn't right. None of this is right at all!

Fine, then. If Papyrus cannot find any good in Jerry as he is, then he will just have to TEACH HIM how to be good!!

It's a good thing Papyrus is an expert at being good! He's perfection PERSONIFIED!!! Papyrus: Perfection Personified!!!!

Under his teachings, Jerry will become the greatest version of himself he could ever be! Papyrus was sure of it!

Well... Half-sure, at least. It would take a lot of work.

.......And they're STILL cackling..........

[arts-dance]

What you learn about beauty and grief as a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art .

After his brother’s death, Patrick Bringley took a job at the grandest place he could find. By Constance Grady Feb 14, 2023

After Patrick Bringley lost his older brother in 2008, he decided to take the most straightforward job he could think of in the most beautiful place he knew. He left his job at the New Yorker’s events department and spent the next 10 years as a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Bringley’s new memoir, All the Beauty in the World, tells the story of his time at the Met. It’s full of satisfyingly inside-baseball facts: the secret routines of the guards, the basement galleries where the Met’s earliest collections linger, the backstories of stolen art. It’s also a story of art appreciation. Bringley makes a strong case that nothing teaches you to understand a work of art better than standing in a room with it for eight hours at a time, with little to occupy you but the art and your own responses to it.

Perhaps most importantly, though, All the Beauty in the World is a story about grief and about beauty, and about how inextricably the two are linked.

When I lost my father last spring, I was surprised to find that grief made me crave beauty. Movies had taught me that when faced with real grief, beautiful things become pale and petty and pointless, but that wasn’t how it was for me. It was May then, and the week after my father died, my mother and I went to an arboretum to breathe air that wasn’t from a hospital. The lilacs and viburnums were in bloom; the roses were beginning to bud; the trees were lush and green. We were still in shock, I think, and it was a profound solace to stand in the middle of a garden, looking at nothing but lovely things. “I think beauty is going to be an important part of all this,” my mother said..

I wanted to understand more about why beauty was so important to grief. So at the beginning of February, I met Bringley at the family entrance of the Met on 81st Street to walk the galleries. We couldn’t come close to covering all 2.2 million square feet of the massive building, but we would talk about art, beauty, and the secrets of the Met, and try to figure out beauty and grief together.

“These floors are not so good,” Bringley says, stamping one foot on the mosaic tiles of the Greek and Roman wing. Floors feature heavily in All the Beauty in the World: When you’re working eight- to 12-hour shifts standing upright, the material matters. Any kind of stone floor will leave you feeling it in your legs and back; soft, forgiving wood is better.

There’s still plenty to look at, though, he adds. “What’s brilliant about what a guard gets to do in a place like this is you just have eight hours or 12 hours to not be busy, not be advancing some project, but just to have your head up and observe the life swirling around this place.”

When he worked as a guard, some days he would spend an afternoon studying the labels and trying to learn about ancient Rome, he says. “But then other times you want to just admire beauty, kind of irrespective of its context. So, you know, just look at this and marvel.” He gestures to an elegant statue of Aphrodite, arms amputated at the shoulder, head turned in profile.

“You know, the ancients, especially the Greeks, thought that the most beautiful thing in the world was themselves, was us,” he says. “They conceived of the gods as having our form. So maybe you’re looking at a statue like this, and then you’re looking at other people in the galleries like, ‘Wow, how mysterious is it that we have all these different beautiful people wandering around with their own worlds trapped inside their mind.’ You get to think about that kind of thing.”

[zenryverse]

Whaddup, it’s your girl here with more Hartin Family HCs thought up by me at like 3 am (I also decided to type it up at 3 am so i apologize for mistakes and if feels incoherent/rambly). This post is definitely for Jesse (@angrypunchguy) and Jesse only cause he inspired me but literally. I can’t believe I’ve never given any member of the Hartin family a cat until now cause it’s SO them but anyway 

- it’s one of those really fluffy long-haired cats, all black 

- as a side note, I always wanted to give Char the exact same cat in this universe so she and Izzy definitely bond over the fact that their cats are twinsies

- It’s the pet Izzy gets after Steve is gone 

- Izzy kinda wants to name them Felix just to screw with her brother cause Felix the Cat; even though it’s technically Izzy’s cat, Felix wants to name her Salem because he has a whole collection of comic books that feature Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Izzy’s still mad about the Salem Witch Trials so she won’t allow it 

- They both finally settle on the name Eclipse 

- Eclipse definitely bonds with Henry first because he was the only one that didn’t really want her at first (not that he’s against cats specifically; actually he would’ve preferred a cat over any of the other animals they acquired over the years, but he didn’t really want any other pets because he’s the one that ends up having to take care of them)

- (Felix is better about sharing the responsibility than Izzy, but during those times when he’s nowhere to be found and it’s time to walk Daisy (felix’s golden retriever), Zack always conveniently has something else he totally forgot to do that needs to be done right away so the responsibility falls to Henry)(and Henry wouldn’t even ask Zack to help with anything involving Steve considering Zack can barely be in the same room) 

- (although, when their kids are old enough where they can be left alone for a few minutes, Zack will take Daisy for a walk but only if it becomes a couple’s activity and Henry goes with him)  

- (actually, Zack didn’t want another pet either but that’s entirely because he didn’t think he could handle another arachnid in the house, or anything that could be classified as a bug aldsjkf But, Izzy knows he can’t handle tears so she definitely used that to her advantage and once he learned she wanted a cat he was totally on board anyway and he helped convince Hen) (but this HC list is getting away from me alkdsjf)

- anyway, she bonds with Hen at first and she definitely talks to him. As long as he looks at her when he speaks, she’ll respond no matter what he says. She’ll talk to the others too, but only sometimes; Henry, all the time. 

- There’s definitely been more than one occasion when Zack’s walked in on them and just been like “are you having conversations with the cat again?” “........no.” 

- “sometimes I think you talk to that cat more then you talk to me” Henry, deadpan but entirely joking: “she’s a better conversationalist than you”

- and even though Henry didn’t really want her at first, she still gets toys at Christmas every year, they end up with one of those big cat trees in their living room, and he gets her one of those beds you can stick in the window 

- This is definitely Jesse’s idea, but Felix and Izzy get her a pink, sparkly collar with a little bell on it 

- Ofc she’s afraid of Daisy at first, but she warms up to her after a short while and it gets to the point where she uses Daisy as a bed on occasion 

- After a little begging from Izzy, Zack agrees to make Eclipse a bed that’s an exact replica of Izzy’s

- It becomes a part of Eclipse’s routine to curl up in it when Izzy retires for the night (but she’ll divide her time between her bed and sleeping with Izzy on Izzy’s bed)

- Izzy and Fe get her one those harnesses to try to train her to take walks 

- it does not end well

 - it becomes a family group project (taking place over several months because they can only afford so many supplies at a time alkdjf) to build her a little sanctuary/playpen type thing in the backyard; Izzy and Felix tell Henry what they want it to have, he turns it into something that’s actually conceivable asdaslkdf and gives it to Zack, where Zack does most of the actual building 

- It does turn into an opportunity for him to teach Izzy and Fe a thing or two though

- and Zack has to keep Henry from giving her the whole backyard instead of just half 

- also, this is sort of Jesse’s idea too, but she always lays on Izzy’s and Felix’s desks when they’re doing homework or Fe is playing a game. She’s messed up more than one of his games by laying directly on the controller or keyboard