#seal lore drop

[local-seal]

Hello? Hello!!

"Is this? Hi! Okay okay!! Yay!! I want to talk to people more efficiently, is this how I do that? Please talk to me, I am here to spread as much whimsy and joy as I can! I can give out free seal plushies, too!" The seal waved its flippers frantically. It was extremely happy about being able to manage this. (Ooc introduction, tags, possible triggers all though unlikely cause. You know. Seal. Under the cut)

Hey! Welcome in to my little creature's blog, I love this thing a lot. Please be nice it has done nothing wrong in its life ever. I'm 18, mainly go by he/him pronouns, but the seal will most often refer to itself with it/its. Whimsical seal doesn't understand gender much I fear. Roleplay wise, please just keep in mind this is a seal I really hate to break this to you but there's only so much a seal can do. A LITERAL seal by the way. Not a human or anything, no. Just a seal that can somehow travel around, a seal that accidentally makes people think they're hallucinating, and gives out plushies. This HAS manifested from Mouthwashing. I go around blogs as 🦭 and it's very amusing to me. It started as a little joke but I do not think it's a joke anymore. It has gained sentience and grammar. If you want to roleplay with the seal, go ahead! Do whatever! I think this is obvious given this is a literal animal, but please don't send anything even remotely suggestive to the seal. That's just weird. That's one of the only rules I have. Basic DNI criteria, obviously. If you have to ask what this is, you should probably leave already. There will probably be swearing, obviously. Probably not from the whimsical seal itself, but from me, or other blogs. I fear I DO run a main blog that people have been made aware of, but you gotta Sherlock Holmes case it if you want it. (I don't really care actually if you literally just ask me I'll probably tell you.) Anyways, with all that out of the way! Possible warnings for this blog, or at least blogs associated with it. The basic themes of Mouthwashing as a whole, mainly. I can't imagine things will get that bad with a fun little seal side blog I made for fun, so it's probably safe. I'll make a more detailed list in the future if I need to, but I imagine I probably won't? Tags! #seal shenanigans: Just the seal talking or doing things! Love this fella. #seals favorites!: Reblogs :] #temporary joy break: Ooc tag! This is when I'm talking, not the seal! I will also talk using () around my words. #sealing around: Roleplay threads, in character reblogs. Just the seal interacting with people. #wisdom from seal: Seal answering asks! #whimsically recognizable: Asks from anons, or people in general that come around often! The seal knows you now!! #seal lore drop: Seal lore, I fear. It has it. #seal interacts [crew member name]: Interacting with specific members of the Mouthwashing crew! Should've added this sooner, oops! That's all! Remember, anyone is welcome. OC, fandom, whatever!! Just play and have fun!

^Look at this little fella. Okay go play, have fun.

[annoying-leaf]

I kinda feel uhhh insecure ab posting my undertale au OCs, especially if they are just humans with colorful hair lol

Glitchtale had a big impact on me lmao, but COLORFUL HAIR LOOKS COOL!!!!! THEY HAVE MAGIC!!!!!! AND THEY HAVE COLORFUL HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!

[trash----panda]

A (not 100% accurate) list of my characters, their age, gender, pronouns, favorite food, and families. Please enjoy and have a look around!

Total: 112

Davion (Water Moccasin Naga)

Gebder: Male (he/him)

Age: 26

Favorite food: Chili

B-day: May 8th

Nikki (Water Naga)

Gender: Female (She/her)

Age: 24

Favorite food: fish

B-day: August 31st

Chi Rello (Naga)

Gender: Female (she/they)

Favorite food: Cherry yogurt

Age: 178

B-day: June 4th

Richard Rello (Red Spitting Cobra Naga)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Hard candies (milk ones)

Age: 379

B-day: March 17th

Arane Rello (Goliath Bird Eater Spider-taur)

Gender: Female (she/they)

Favorite food: Fire ants

Age: 16

B-day: January 19th

Lirio Orthiz (Chrysopelea Naga)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Fruit tarts

Age: 28

B-day: October 1st

Ajar Rello (Spitting Cobra Naga)

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Carnita street tacos

Age: 76

B-day: July 4th

Pesok Rello (Hognose Naga)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Most savory crepes

Age: 78

B-day: August 20th

Dante Rello ( Sea Krait Naga)

Gender: Fabulous (he/him)

Favorite food: Tuna casserole

Age: 37

B-day: December 11th

Kia Halla (Emerald Tree Boa Naga)

Gender: Do i have one? (He/him)

Favorite food: Vanilla Bean Icecream

Age: 59

B-day: May 22nd

Lemon Halla (Naga)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Chicken tamale

Age: 24

B-day: September 4th

Maddy (Witch)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Yellow Curry

Age: 28

B-day: April 9th

Giari (Witch)

Gender: girl? (She/her)

Age: 19

Favorite food: Aphid

B-day: December 30th

Hone (Wolf Spider-taur)

Gender: male (he/him)

Age: 35

Favorite food: Rat

B-day: August 15th

Kori Alez (Ice giant)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Chicken

Age: 60

B-day: December 29th

Zane Orithoroz (Dragon Hybrid)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 76

Favorite food: Shaved ice

B-day: october 3rd

Boz (Human-Hybrid)

Gender: Female (she/they)

Favorite food: Peanuts in any form

Age: 28

B-day: January 10th

Vix (Cursed Elf)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Key Lime Pie

Age: 21

Abilities: Cloning 15 times max every hour

B-day: August 26th

Dusty Ghostwing (Dragonfly Pixie)

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Honey pie

Age: 58

B-day: August 27th

Julian Ghostwing (Firefly Pixie)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Vanilla sandwich cookies (the soft ones)

Age: 23

B-day: August 28th

Boa Newman (Human-Immortal)

Gender: Chaos (she/her)

Favorite food: Banana Creme Pie

Age: 294

B-day: April 1st

Dani Newman (Human-Immortal)

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Banana Cream Pie

Age: 377

B-day: August 26th

Deri Newman (Sphinx-Immortal)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Smoked Salmon

Age: 134

B-day: June 23rd

Cassity Newman (Werewolf-immortal)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Goat meat

Age: 378

B-day: March 15th

Liam Newman (Werewolf-Immortal)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Frog meat

Age: 376

B-day: March 15th

Minx Newman (Dragon-Hybrid Immortal)

Gender: Death (she/her)

Favorite food: Whole Pumpkin

Age: 371

B-day: April 23rd

Adam Newman (Human-Immortal)

Gender: Male (he/his)

Favorite food: Coconut

Age: 384

Abilities: Magical Aptitude

B-day: June 7th

Kit Ortyth (Demon-Human Hybrid)

Gender: Good Boi! (He/him)

Favorite food: Lamb Chops!

Age: 360

Abilities: Shadow magic, Sunlight stings, Deals

B-day: July 9th

Shadow Ortyth (Shadow Demon/Queen of Shadows)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite Food: raw meat

Age: 1792(Deceased)

B-Day: October 17th

Cass (Demi-god)

Gender: GOD! (He/him)

Favorite food: Peach Cobbler

Age: 145

Abilities: Ice, tempurature control

B-day: Febuary 29th

Jho (Demonic God)

Gender: I exsist (He/Him)

Favorite food: Dreams

Age: Infinite

Abilities: Bends the mind, Minds are his Domain

B-day: Beginning of time

Asmund (Demonic God)

Gender: I exsist (He/Him)

Favorite food: Anything

Age: Infinite

Abilities: Destroys the soul, Warps the soul, Souls are his Domain

B-day: Beginning of time

Vanity (Demonic God)

Gender: I exsist (she/her)

Favorite food: Posh food

Age: Infinite

Abilities: Warps the body, physical forms are her domain

B-day: Beginning of time

Finn (Incubus)

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Lemon muffins

Age: 23

B-day: October 23rd

Pluto (Cursed Doll, Prince of Dreams)

Gender: Doll (he/him)

Favorite food: i can't eat

Age: 60

Abilities: needles hidden in his stuffing, pretends to be a regular toy, will try to eat you

B-day: March 6th

Mael (Demon, Prince of Dreams)

Gender: Male (he/him/it)

Age: 57

Abilities: Can enter dreams and manipulate them, even influence the outside world through them, can enter painting and drawings, illusionist

B-Day: October 29th

Goose (Forest Demon)

Gender: Boy òwó (he/they)

Age: 398

Favorite food: Fish

B-day: April 28th

Howl (Goat)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Crab

B-day: December 1st

Arlo (Gray Fox)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Chicken feet

Age: 26

B-day: August 2nd

Blitz (Tiger)

Gender: Demi-Boy (he/they)

Favorite food: Raw Steak

Age: 35

B-day: January 18th

Maze (Mouse Polymorph)

Gender: Fluid (all pronouns)

Favorite food: Almond icecream

Age: 18

B-day: January 4th

Kirin (Harpy)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Salmon!

Age: 34

B-day: October 15th

Anazasi (Werewolf-Dragon Hybrid)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Peanut Butter Cookies

Age: 34

B-day: Febuary 13th

Skeet Tsubasa (Faux-Angel)

Gender: Demi-boy (he/they)

Favorite food: Sunflower Seeds

Age: 27

B-day: May 4th

Kuren Fyre (Lightning Dragon)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Bacon

Age: 27

Abilities: Shoots lightning, absorbs electricity

B-day: January 1st

Chris Fyre (Lightning dragon)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Candied Bacon

Age: 27

Abilities: Shoots lightning, absorbs electricity

B-day: January 1st

Marcus (Dragon)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 58

Favorite food: edible

B-day: June 7th

Newman (Dragon) [is not related to Dani's family]

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Slimes

Age: 15

B-day: June 3rd

Emmit (Kloo)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Lychee and glowfruit pudding

Age: 67 (still young for his kind)

B-day: October 26th

Pilaf (Kloo)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: donuts

Age: 26 (teen)

B-day: October 16th

Aries (Felin)

Gender: girl (she/her)

Age: 36

Favorite food: Anything that talks back

B-day: January 8th

Hydro (Borph)

Gender: Female (she/they)

Favorite food: Bu-lung fish

Age: 38

B-day: January 4th

Harper (Alien)

Gender: Death! (he/him)

Favorite food: Borph

Age: 35

Abilities: Tranq breath

B-day: January 12th

Name: Alder (Dione)

Gender: Both (He/They)

Age: 26

Favorite food: anything fried

Abilities: Heat based sight, echolocation, hydrophobic, 3 hour breath hold, semi-aquatic

B-day: March 23

Sammy (Tiger Centipede)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Bugs

Age: 22

B-day: Febuary 2nd

Jay (Blue Centepede)

Gender: Male (Any)

Favorite food: Fireflies!

Age: 19

Abilities: Venomous

B-day: April 1st

Joey (Horse Fly Pixie)

Gender: Gorl (she/her)

Favorite food: Blood

Age: 21

B-day: July 1st

Zuego (Mantis Fly Pixie)

Gender: Boyo (he/him)

Age: 22

Favorite food: spider eggs

B-day: October 22

Flora (Mantis Insect Folk)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Other insect-hybrids (mainly dragonflies)

Age: 25

B-day: August 23rd

Polistes (Paper Wasp Pixie)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Age: 28

Favorite food: .... Guava nectar

Abilities: Sees magic threads, husk, building

B-day: August 12th

Joseph (Immortal Jellyfish)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Blueberry Pancakes

Age: 36

Abilities: reversion, healing, stinging

B-day: April 20th

Pixel (Planaria)

Gender: Idk (anything lol)

Favorite food: Eggs

Age: Idk lol

Abilities: Regeneration, slow to anger

B-day: April 20th

DDM(cyborg)

Gender: I'm a robot- (he/him)

Favorite food: I can't taste so ig.... humans?

Age: My parts are all different

Abilities: Hypercharge, strength, quick, tracking

B-day: January 7th

Koi (Parasite)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Raspberries

Age: 26

Abilities: heat sensors, venom, night vision, size shifting

B-day: October 7th

Lycoris (Symbiote)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Everything

Age: 26

Abilities: Eats viruses/bacteria, creates endo-armor for host, able to exit the body for 3 days, can grow to an inch

B-day: July 7th

Lucas (Carion Giant)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Sausage

Age: 23

B-day: October 4th

Thomas (Carion Giant)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Sausage

Age: 22

B-day: October 14th

Jake (Orc-Giant hybrid)

Gender: Demi-boy (he/they)

Favorite food: Horse

Age: 19

Abilities: Blood Magic

B-day: January 20th

Steve (Wolf-Human Hybrid)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Kunefe

Age: 45

B-day: December 2nd

Cadimus Ollie Kestrel (Lizardfolk-Crocodile)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Snake

Age: 56

B-day: March 1st

Ben (Wrasse Mer)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Bread

Age: 25

B-day: June 27th

Sock (Swamp Monster)

Gender: Non-binary (they/them)

Favorite food: Kelp

Age: 20

B-day: July 4th

Lišák (Leopard seal)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Penguin

Age: 26

B-day: July 11th

Name: Pyere (Mer)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: crab

Age: 37

Abilities: durable to heat

B-day: May 3rd

Silo (Sea serpent)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Squid

Age: 34

B-day: January 3rd

Arcus (Tropical Mer)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Red Algae

Age: 23

B-day: April 27th

Gar (Alligator Gar Dragon)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Salmon roe

Age: 34

B-day: May 7th

Lace (Angler Mer Royalty)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Sea grapes and Dragon Fish

Age: 18

B-day: December 31st

Cali Mari (Octopus Mer)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Other octopi

Age: 27

B-day: Febuary 18th

Evan Orlean (Dunkleosteus Mer)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Jelly fish rolls (makes him woozy)

Age: 17

B-day: June 9th

Ian Bytz (Shark Mer)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Tuna platter with sea grape and scallops

Age: 57

B-day: July 10th

Name: Austin (Siren)

Gender: Yes (They/them)

Age: 35 (young)

Favorite food: Cod

Abilities: Human Camo

B-day: April 4th

Lucifer (Candiru mer)

Gender: male (he\him)

Age: 21

Favorite food: Blood

B-day: November 9th

Dominic (Yinlong Lizardfolk)

Gender: Boyo (he/him)

Favorite food: blueberries

Age: 39

B-day: August 5th

Hazel Albeta (Mantacore)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Bird

Age: 46

B-day: March 14th

Wyth (Jackel)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Deer

Age: 57

B-day: October 28th

Lily (Tree-drake)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Apple

Age: 27

B-day: April 9th

Bismuth (Kobold)

Gender: Non-binary (he/they)

Favorite food: Cheese puffs

Age: 18

B-day: April 17th

Name: Eir (Fae)

Gender: no (They/Them)

Age: 17

Favorite food: blood

Abilities: Dimensional shifts, Pocket dimension, Portals

B-day: May 26

Dendro (Fae)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Nachos

Age: 20

B-day: June 4th

Ty (Cephliod)

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Blueberry Donuts

Age: 167

B-day: April 1st

DDM (Cyborg)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Favorite Food: Anything squirmy

Age: 12

B-day: October 5th

Gokin (Cyborg)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: which part? Approx~18

Favorite food: meat

B-day: April 9th

Cypher (Golem)

Gender: Female (she/they)

Favorite food: Rocks

Age: 10

B-day: October 3rd

Arch (Wood Giant)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: All types of sugar

Age: 25

https://www.deviantart.com/tufted2/art/Wood-Giants-Reference-859799123

B-day: October 4th

Pankin (Vampire Frog)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Blood

Age: 57

B-day: September 3rd

Ricky (Giga Hybrid)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: coconuts

Age: 21

B-day: June 23rd

Jaqueefus (Planet Eater)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Favorite food: Gas Giants

Age: 1057

B-day: March 23rd

Honey (Slime parasite)

Gender: Any

Favorite food: Anything

Age: Any

B-day: January 3rd

Arbor (Faux Angel Snow Owl)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Favorite food: Voles

Age: 57

B-day: September 8th

Nora (Elf Hybrid)

Gender: Female(she/her)

Age: 24

Favorite food: Hotdogs

B-day: Febuary 2nd

Andy and Orland(Magma Giant and Demon)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 19 and 89

Favorite food: lava cake

Abilities: Emotional Temperature Shifts

B-day: July 8th

Name: Silva (Mimic)

Gender: yes

Age: 26

Favorite food: Honey

B-day: September 26

Achak(Artic Mimic)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 19

Favorite food:... human flesh

Abilities: voice copying, slight color variation, cold immunity, fast healing, supernatural speed

B-day: April 27th

Terra (Spirit hybrid)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 18

Favorite food: ded things

B-day: August 27th

Lark (Hummingbird Harpy, God of Music)

Gender: Male (he/him)

Age: 26

Favorite Food: Apple blossoms

B-day: April 13

Zepher (Nekomata)

Gender: Male (he/they)

Favorite food: Most food, preferring spicy

Age: 24

B-day: January 11th

Auric (monster)

Gender: Both (he/him)

Age: 36

Favorite food: yes

B-day: december 27th

Ross(Eldrich horror)

Gender: male (he/him)

Age: 24

Favorite food: Earl Gray and Blueberry Icecream

Abilities: Dimensional shift, size shift, hammer space, basically indestructible, possession

B-day: Dec 30

Paru (Bag of Mushrooms and Mold)

Gender: ... (he/him)

Age: 27

Favorite food: Spicy Stuff

Abilities: Spits spores, hibernation, regeneration, caustic projectiles

B-day: April 27th

Name: Bezel (Venus Fly Trap)

Gender: sure?

Age: 78 (mostly hibernating)

Favorite food: Meat

B-day: july 1st

Sym (Were-Elk)

Gender: male (he/him)

Age: 23

Abilities: Huge library, ample funds, healing factor

B-day: Nov 22nd

Xol (Tooth Fae)

Gender: he doesnt know but he seems to fit (he/they/it)

Age: 18

B-day: Nov 25th

[iturbide]

Honestly Grima being some corruption of a Divine Dragon feels more in line with his powers than Earth Dragon for some reason?

Personally I don't have a preference on the history! Grima makes the most sense to me personally as a unique type of dragon rather than needing to be slotted into the mold of Divine or Earth Dragons -- that body plan is entirely unique and doesn't track with any of the Archanean dragons, particularly when the six pairs of eyes, lack of limbs, and feathered wings are taken into account (ancient Archanean dragons appeared much more like traditional dragons, and by the time of Ylisse they look like leafy sea dragons with legs, but none of them have feathers). I'm entirely willing to accept the alchemic aberration explanation, but I fell into Awakening well before Echoes released, so I'm fine with making the "Earth Dragon" concept work.

[axvwriter]

Saiki!

fully expected you to say that neuvillette was your favorite because he shares a voice actor with rollo lol

Omg yeah that's one detail among others to why I love Neuvillette aaah!!!

But tbh Hiroshi Kamiya voiced a lot of characters that I love very much ! (and I haven't watched any gundam but he voices a character with a bowlcut so I might watch gundam 00 just for him/her??...)

[orilimbs]

There's no time to explain who am I, so im gonna show you my own take on Horrortale Yellow.

This au's name doesn't need to be explained, the underground sets in an uncanny ambient after a neutral route in general, but based on Undertale Yellow's timeline, the underground sets in this ambient after a neutral route made by Integrity.

Each area like The Dark Ruins and Snowfall (Lower Snowdin) are based on the horsemen of the apocalypse in order: Death (Ruins), Pestilence (Snowdin), Famine (Dunes/The Wild East), War (Steamworks and UG Apartments), and finally, the last area called "Clover's judgement" can be heaven or hell depending of the route (genocide, neutral or pacifist (NOT FLAWED), where your fate will be sealed if you choose to fight Zenith Martlet, Kitsune Ceroba or Flowey.

Monsters CAN bleed in this au if they arent at a very low HP but still damaged, if they lost all their HP they turn into dust normally along with the blood.

I dont have enough energy to explain every character's deep lore on this au, so im gonna say their general characteristics:

Clover is 10-years old, they escaped from home and fell from a mountain on accident, without having any bandages or any gun, they have to dodge every attack to not to die. They fell in a flower bed that had spines on it, making them lose a part of their vision and getting hurt, leaving them with a very low HP permanently at the beginning.

Dalv is a REAL vampire this time, he will try to attack Clover no matter if theyre friends or not, but Dalv knows is better for Clover to leave his house for their own good if they want to survive. Dalv is selectively mute and has vampire urges that need to be satisfied. He lost a horn in a fight that he doesnt remember.

Martlet lives in Snowfall where there is a fungus infection that was born after the dust mixed with very cold snow on trees that made a fungus live on fruits and honey panels. Martlet is infected and a bit hungry, but she would never attack a poor child. She's vulnerable to cold and diseases, she's is in the late-third phase of infection where fungus take place on her physical body and cant fly.

Ceroba lives in the dunes where everyone fights and eat themselves to survive, concluding on cannibalism and blood, everyone is hungry and will attack anyone who steps on the area. Ceroba has a scar on her left eye like Clover and has insomnia to protect Kanako and Chujin, who are alive but need to be feed. She has SEVERE problems with Orion (Starlo's brother).

Axis was created after Integrity's neutral route where The Integrity Incident never happened, Axis serves as a doctor and emergency robot, when he was closed in the Steamworks, the Steamworks and UG Apartments summerged on war due to being trapped by their own creators. Axis is mute due to his "radio" being damaged, he is a pacifist and tries to help Clover until Clover and Ceroba wrongly attack him.

I will drop more information later, but these are the most important ones. The others who I didnt included (Decibat, El Bailador, Starlo, Orion, along with others) are secondary or important to a specific character's development. Here are the old designs, some of them stay the same and others changed a little bit or generally.

[cowboybabeop]

Vault-Tec Vaults; Game Origin & Location

Hi I'm going to back to my "Fallout Blog" roots. Here is a summary of all of the vaults and experiments (starting with a timeline) because I'm insane ^_^ I had to add a weird break bc I literally hit the tumblr character limit, but I used it to section off the major spoilers for the TV series :)

Timeline

The Great War: October 23rd, 2077

Fallout Bible: Compendium of added lore by the creators.

Fallout 76: 2102

Fallout 1: 2161 

Fallout Tactics: 2197

Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel: 2208

Fallout 2: 2241

Fallout 3: 2277

Fallout: New Vegas: 2281

Fallout 4: 2287

Fallout TV Series: 2296

Corporate Vault - Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel - Texas 

A control group vault meant for Vault-Tec employees to continue research, primarily on FEV (Forced Evolutionary Virus) during the war.

Vault 0 - Fallout Tactics - Colorado 

A control group vault with geniuses kept in cryogenic stasis, with their minds interlinked into an entity called The Calculator.

Vault 3 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada 

A control vault. Residents ended up opening the vault doors when the lower levels flooded. Eventually the vault was overrun by Fiends.

Vault 4 - Fallout TV series - California 

A test vault that was filled with residents prior to the bombs dropping. Experimentation on human subjects led to most of the original residents being killed in a revolt. In 2296 the vault is still thriving, while kidnapping surface survivors and continuing to experiment on them. The vault offered refuge for many inhabitants of Shady Sands.

Vault 8 (Vault City) - Fallout 2 - Nevada 

A control group vault that remained closed until 2241. Instead of receiving two G.E.C.K. (Garden of Eden Creation Kit) devices, Vault 8 received just one and a replacement water chip that was supposed to go to Vault 13.

Vault 11 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada 

Every year the residents were told to sacrifice a fellow resident, with the threat of everyone's death if they did not. In reality, the system would praise them for NOT sacrificing an individual and the vault door would be unlocked. This message finally played after only five residents remained.

Vault 12 - Fallout 1 - California 

A seemingly normal, safe vault with an ulterior motive to study the effects of radiation on the inhabitants. The door never fully sealed, and in 2083 the ghoul residents left to found Necropolis.

Vault 13 - Fallout 1 & Fallout 2- California 

Your home vault as the Vault Dweller. A rather normal vault, however due to a shipping mishap Vault 13 received an additional G.E.C.K. device (that was supposed to go to Vault 8) instead of a replacement water chip. Thus, leaving the Vault Dweller to leave the vault in search for a replacement when their only water chip breaks.

Vault 15 - Fallout 1 & Fallout 2 - California 

A vault that experimented with incredibly diverse ideologies and backgrounds. The vault became severely overpopulated in 2097 and the dwellers decided to open the door. Shady Sands was created using Vault 15's G.E.C.K. and the local raider gangs all have origins from this vault.

Vault 17 - Fallout: New Vegas - Mention Only 

Inhabitants were kidnapped and transformed into Super Mutants. Lily originates from this vault.

Vault 19 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT 

Paranoia was induced by noises, lights, and segregation. The vault was divided into two sections, Red and Blue, with a separate overseer for each sector.

Vault 21 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada 

An almost normal vault, with the exception of a culture and society built around gambling. All major decisions were made through gambling, with the decision to open the doors and become part of New Vegas being "won" in a game of Blackjack.

Vault 22 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT 

A vault dedicated to studying agriculture. A fungus designed to kill pests on plants became capable of infected human hosts. Vault 22 is curiously green on the outside by the time The Courier arrives at the location.

Vault 24 - Fallout: New Vegas - Mention Only 

Remnants of a Vault 24 jumpsuit are found in the FNV game files.

Vault 27 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

A vault designed to be deliberately overcrowded with not enough means to sustain the inhabitants.

Vault 29 - Fallout 76 - Mention Only 

Only children younger than 15 were allowed in this vault, with their parents being sent to other vaults. Harold is believed to originate from this vault.

//TV SHOW SPOILERS//

Vault 31 - Fallout TV Series - California 

Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as cryogenic home for the managers and higher ups of Vault-Tec.

Vault 32 - Fallout TV Series - California 

Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as a healthy breeding pool for Vault 31 and 33. Somewhere around 2294, Vault 32 failed and the residents resorted to murder, cannibalism, or suicide.

Vault 33 - Fallout TV Series - California 

Lucy MacLean's home vault. Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as a healthy breeding pool for Vault 31 and 32.

//END OF TV SHOW SPOILERS//

Vault 36 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The only food in this vault consisted of thin, watery gruel.

Vault 34 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT 

The vault was purposefully overstocked with guns with the overseer being able to give/deny access to residents. This inevitably led to it's downfall, and those who revolted and raided the armory relocated above as The Boomers in 2231.

Vault 42 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

No lightbulbs over 40W were provided.

Vault 43 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

A vault containing 20 men, 10 women, and one panther.

Vault 51 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault with a supercomputer as the overseer. Interference from the computer led to most of the residents being murdered by other residents.

Vault 53 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only  

Most equipment was designed to break down every few months in order to stress out inhabitants.

Vault 55 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

No entertainment tapes were provided.

Vault 56 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The only entertainment tapes provided were of one terrible comedian.

Vault 63 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

The inside of the vault remains sealed, with the outside door being all that is accessible to the player character. Other parts of the vault are revealed through cut content.

Vault 65 - Fallout 76 - Mention Only 

Remnants of the vault remain in Fallout 76 cut content.

Vault 68 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The vault contained 999 men and 1 woman.

Vault 69 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The vault contained 999 women and 1 man.

Vault 75 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

A secret experimenting in refining human genetics through selective breeding, genetic modification, and hormonal treatments. The vault's concept was made by Stanislaus Braun.

Vault 76 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

The home vault of the player character in 76. It was a control vault, set to open after 25 years. This is when the player character leaves the vault.

Vault 77 - Fallout 3 - Mention Only 

Mentioned by slavers in Paradise Falls, this vault was rumored to only contain one man and a box of puppets.

Vault 79 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault dedicated to hoarding the country's gold reserves.

Vault 81 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

Designed to develop a cure for every possible sickness or ailment. Residents were unknowingly sprayed with diseases by nozzles hidden in their rooms. The first vault overseer had thought this to be cruel, cut off the scientists from the rest of the vault and cut the nozzles from spraying residents before the experiments could begin.

Vault 87 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

The original vault experiment for 87 was scrapped, and it became a research center for FEV, leaving the vault wildly radioactive and inhabited only by super mutants by the time you access it as the Lone Wanderer.

Vault 88 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

An unfinished vault inhabited by ghouls.

Vault 92 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

The best musicians were sent to this vault to "preserve musical talent", but truthfully residents were subjected to subliminal messages mixed into white noise. Eventually some of the musicians went into random, murderous, psychotic rages that led to the end of the experiment.

 Vault 94 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault with non-violent faith-centric inhabitants. The vault opened one year later to search for survivors. The vault became overrun by wastelanders and raiders that destroyed their G.E.C.K. and their nuclear reactor. The vault was swarmed with radiation and is now overrun by mirelurks.

Vault 95 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

A vault designed to get people clean and sober. After a successful 5 years, a Vault-Tec agent brought out a hidden stash of drugs for other residents to find.

Vault 96 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault with a focus on agriculture, animals, genetics, and mutations. The original residents were killed in a failed escape attempt, and the vault was then used by West-Tek scientist Edgar Blackburn to continue research on FEV.

Vault 100 - Fallout 3 - Mention Only 

Remnants of Vault 100 can be found in game files and cut content.

Vault 101 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

The home vault for the Lone Wanderer. This vault was meant to never open and Vault 101 did not receive a G.E.C.K. However, the overseer of the vault pretty quickly broke this rule and occasional survey teams were sent to the surface. Several residents of Megaton are the result of these survey teams. Daddy James found the vault after the birth of the Lone Wanderer and negotiated his doctoral services in exchange for shelter.

Vault 106 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

Psychoactive drugs slowly released into the air of Vault 106, causing the vault to be filled with psychotic survivors by the time the Lone Wanderer visits.

Vault 108 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

A slew of experiments occurred in this vault. The elected overseer was dying of cancer, the primary power supply of the vault was scheduled to fail after 20 years, the backup power supply would not be enough to power ALL of the vault, the vault was given three times the normal amount of weapons, and the vault was not given entertainment. With a majority of scientists, one of the inner experiments involved repeatedly cloning the same man... Gary.

Vault 111 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

Your home vault as the Sole Survivor. All residents were meant to unknowingly stay in cryostasis, with scientists overlooking them. However, conflicts arose among those unfrozen, leading to the vault door eventually being opened.

Vault 112 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

Residents lived in a virtual reality simulation to create their "perfect life" with their overseer, Stanislaus Braun, a scientist who proceeded to use the residents as playthings. Braun continuously murdered residents, then wiped their memories and reset the simulation.

Vault 114 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

 An unfinished vault meant for only the wealthy. Vault-Tec exaggerated the luxury of the vault, gave residents very small rooms, communal bathing and dining areas, and a homeless drug-addicted overseer named Soup Can Harry.

Vault 118 - Fallout 4 - Maine 

An Unfinished Vault meant to house both a handful of ultra-rich and hundreds of working class individuals to observe how they would interact within the same space.

Vault 120 - Fallout 4 & Fallout 76 - Mention Only 

The vault itself was meant to mimic the underwater atmosphere of Bioshock. The game was cut from Fallout 4, but remnants can be found in Fallout 76 game files.

[luvether]

CHAPTER ONE. HIS BECKONING SALVATION.

SERIES SYNOPSIS, “For his tongue reckon with the beggary and treachery of her.” The narrative of the sun-burnt boy towards the moon-bruised girl, wherein Aeons dare play them both like a sedative, bore them starved for a disastrous relationship.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Sunday x fem!halovian reader. mentions of physical abuse and mutilation, religious metaphors, world-building for Penacony, not canon-compliant to hsr lore. historical + semi-steampunk au! [8.1k wc]

𐔌౨ৎ 、 MASTERLIST ノ NEXT CHAPTER

“Hounds, seize the man in the red tailcoat. The girl is a victim." His young raspy tone coils around the audience like a snake, the pin drop silence, then the haunting allure of your voice comes to a decrepit halt.

Sunday tastes the chaos first before understanding what had happened, what he had just done.

The Hounds were on the move due to his command, undressing clear aggression towards the people in charge of tonight's show. The audience had jumped up from their seats, scattering and fleeing when they recognized the Bloodhound seals on their vest and the muted colors of their uniforms. Gopher Wood doesn't spare another second once his feet touch the stage, his long coat swishing through the cold air.

"In the name of Penacony's esteemed law, I hereby arrest the suspected perpetrators involved in Velvet House's illicit activities of child trafficking."

"Mister Chamberlain, sir!" The man in the red tailcoat stresses out, cries, struggles out of the grasps of a Hound tying him down like a shackle.

"Please have mercy! I was wrong, I was—"

"Your words have no power here." Gopher's tone is ice cold, his crow wings rustling sharply. "Save your pliant cries before the Judges, and pray that your punishment will be in your favor."

"No, please I cannot afford this! Please let me explain myself!"

"Take him away."

Gopher waves a hand at the Hounds, they simply nod their heads, dragging the hysterical man off the stage. Sunday is reluctant as he steps beside the Minister, fingertips trembling from anxious thrill.

"...What will become of him?" He asks.

"The man had committed a heavy crime in the Ménage, if all votes are in favor of punishment then he as well as the folks involved will be sentenced to death—each will take a silver cup of poison wine." Gopher doesn't dare sugarcoat his words, pin needles of guilt pricks at the flesh of Sunday's benign heart.

"And, if the votes go for the latter option?"

Gopher takes a glance at him. "The latter option is seeking atonement for their sins. If the President orders it, they will be exiled to the borders of the Reef where they will spend their remaining days begging for absolution, forced to train as soldiers, they will die valiantly trying to protect our Nation from the remaining Legion."

So death, still.

The guilt within the boy grows thick, enough for bitterness to settle heavy on his tongue. These men will be dead because of his command.

"That's horrible."

"Sunday, I'll speak candidly with you." The young boy is surprised when Gopher drops to a knee in front of him.

"You've done well speaking up." Gopher says. "Cease such sensitivity of yours. Sometimes, there will be a price for freedom. And to fight for goodness, there will be moral conflicts that will be sent to you as a challenge. To protect the weak, we could trample over those who take advantage of the downtrodden ones. It is difficult but it is still our duty, Sunday."

Protect the weak.

The man straightens, then once Sunday's name leaves his lips one last time, without awaiting the response of the young boy he saunters off to deal with the aftermath of the subjugated traffickers, telling Sunday to take a rest if he feels overwhelmed with the situation. What he had said was the truth, after all.

Sunday is not God, he cannot appease everyone, and not everyone will see his beliefs to be absolute, that's why law enforces such as the Hounds still exist even after the civil war—or any war even before that, even when the bold words of Independence happen to be pasted in every billboard and graffitied walls around the Capital—

It was simply just another appeasement.

Another reassurance for the public.

It's like a piece of candy given to a wailing child, if all is devoured and nothing is on their palm, they would whine once more. Greed birthing upon greed like one hurricane of a sinful cycle.

For a war cannot be ceased. No matter how much a pacifist begged and prayed and groveled till their knees bled beneath the stones.

Gopher Wood told him so during one of his studies, don't waste your time clinging to hope that can kill you, even with your selective ignorance on the matter the results will not change.

Even when he had uttered the command to send traffickers to death's door, it was supposed to be an accomplishment.

But Sunday's too bitter and guilt-ridden to feel a huff of pride from his achievement.

An hour has passed then, still, Sunday muddled on his transgression. Thirty minutes later, he pins his back straight; the theatre now is empty of audience, under the jurisdiction of the Bloodhounds, from the report given to them, there are roughly twenty-one children found in the backstage of the building, some former orphans from the war, others trafficked to be laboured as rising singers for on stage performances.

His leg couldn't stop bouncing. Restless, he's so restless all of a sudden. Sunday cannot help but let his thoughts wander to you, the young Halovian on the center stage that had such a grenadine syrup singing voice. He hasn't seen you since your call for help and his command to arrest. Did something happen?

"Would you like a drink, young lord?" A younger Hound had approached, a glass of water in hand.

Sunday takes it silently. "Where will the children go after this?"

"Well, it depends. First, we need to verify their identities before they are taken here. After that, they will be taken to the Great hall where parents with missing kids will come to pick up their kins."

"And, if the children have no parents nor identities?"

The dark cobalts of the Hound's eyes flicker briefly to him. "Then, the Governors will assign them a residence, they will be raised in comfort then trained to be military civil servants."

The young boy couldn't stop himself from feeling so utterly restless, he stood up. "May I ask where they are now?"

There was a brief hesitancy with the young Hound. "I believe they are still backstage, going through individual inspection."

Sunday thanks him and saunters off towards the direction pointed.

Once he opens the heavy flaps of red theatre curtains, he cuts through the small crowd, side-stepping with ease. Big, amber eyes fly quickly—he's trying to find you, a girl with wings and a ringed halo like scattered stars, wearing attire as bare white as sunlight, white ribbons that drag across the stage floor. He remembers your cocktail hat that rests like a crown above your head, the white veil that hides the elusiveness of your eyes, the curve of your lips as you smile. It's daunting to him, he doesn't know you and yet he still seeks you out.

Where could you have gone?

Eight minutes have passed, his footfalls take him to every nook and cranny of the Velvet House until he is certain he has reap the entire place. When the time bleeds five more minutes, his steps turn mild and he's heaving tired breaths, hand pressed against the wall supporting his weight.

For a split moment, he wondered if you ever existed at all—it's like you had vanished like a wisp of dainty smoke when your performance was interrupted prematurely. Sunday dabs his forehead with the edge of his sleeve,

Then, he hears a foreign noise.

It almost sounded like a chair creaking under heavy weight.

When the boy glances up, there's a sliver of moonlight spilling in from one of the open doors on the corridor he was on. Without thinking and with nowhere else to go, he approaches slowly, carefully, the door croaking loud when he pushes it open.

Under the dimly lit room he is greeted with the sight of a girl, standing on her tippy-toes up on a rickety chair, reaching for something that's clearly out of her reach at the top shelf of a bookcase. His sudden presence clearly alerts her and she spins, almost stumbling from her perfect stance—Sunday's eyes fly open and his heart stutters as she starts to lose her balance.

"Hey! Be careful—!"

The chair topples and a heavy thud resounds around the room, along with a few books that fell from its place in the case.

Sunday's chest and entire back blooms with a sudden rush of pain, his face crumpling on a wince.

"Oww..."

His amber eyes peered down and his eyes lock with you as he had you in his embrace to crush the fall of your impact.

The boy diverts his eyes, then looks back at you, clearly at the loss with what to do.

"Uhm." His hands come up to softly hold your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

A second of silence.

"I think so.."

With two of his hands on your own, he helps you up slowly. Then he leans down to brush the dust from your dress.

"Sorry." Sunday goes for an apology. "I didn't mean to startle you, I—"

"Wait a second."

He looks up at your cushiony voice, your eyes seem to hover on the shape of his halo under the candlelight.

Sunday could've sworn he saw wonderment within your eyes.

"You're that halovian boy with the large halo." You say, your enthused tone resting upon his ears and it seemed as if the world had stilled.

Sunday sees the expression on your face and finally he takes every inch of you. Gone was your stylish hat, what remains is a silky dress that seems to ebb and flow around your limbs and legs. Your eyes encased his in orphic merriment.

"Yes, hi." He almost scowls at himself, he hates how that sounded between his teeth. "You're...the one that performed today, your voice is very beautiful."

Your chuckle is feathery and tasted like sweet fruit. You turn away from him to pick up a notebook that fell on the floor, brushing your fingers against its leather cover.

"So why are you in this part of the building, lost?"

"Of that nature, yes."

He doesn't say that he's been looking for you, specifically. He doesn't even know why he felt that way. At the corner of his membrane, he vaguely wanted to ask if you were okay—or inquire why you had asked for his assistance, he wouldn't have made a move if you hadn't done that.

To the boy's misfortune, you see through his white lie.

"You know, if you hadn't called for the Bloodhounds earlier, I would have assumed you were really lost." You tell him with a hardened look. "You're not even supposed to be here in this room."

If you hadn't called for the Bloodhounds.

"So you knew I wasn't just some audience member from the start." He asks you, non-accusatory.

"It doesn't take a genius to see you are different from the rest." You start. "You were in one of the high balconies—only those in high positions are allowed to enter there."

Sunday doesn't know whether you said it as an insult or a compliment. He clears his throat, "Then I wanted to ask you something, why did you ask me to help you?"

Sunday remembers his own humming halo, before hearing your voice in his head. He wonders why you had chosen to converse with him of all people in the audience, you could've called for the Minister instead, but you chose him specifically.

"I just knew you would help." Your gentle smile doesn't leave too much for him to wonder. "I saw it in your eyes."

It takes a long time for you to answer, his amber eyes don't leave you as you brush past him, footsteps thudding softly against wooden planks to stare out the window that acts like a halo around your figure—like performance lights.

Skepticism is sewn between his brows. Everything is quiet now, Sunday doesn't know what to say or do but watch you. The room is too dark to completely see anything but for a split second when the curtains raise to invite street lamps to pour in the room—he notices something.

His heart stutters, then he closes the distance between the two of you. One hand weighs heavy on your shoulder, the other rips the curtains wide so the light has no choice but to cascade in.

Sunday's shock at the sight.

There are deep scars, clumsy and messy, almost like wine blemishes greeting him between the peaks of stylish fabric. Amber eyes then trace along the wounds, it stops closely at the deep scratches where your wings were, like someone had dug red in the root of it.

"What happened to your..."

Your smile is bitter but you dare not answer him. Despite being young and powerless, Sunday's not a fool. He instantly places two together.

The reason for your cry for help, the trafficked children, your injuries...

"You're not from Penacony, are you?" He touches your wrist, pulling you close then closer, breathing almost a whisper in case anyone else was listening.

"You're from New Ebondium."

Sunday's eyes are wide open now, grim and stiff with the revelation—a polar opposite from yours that remains passive, too calm for his liking.

"I guess."

"You guess?"

You chuckle then, it seems like the situation hasn't weighed down on you. Even if it did, you don't seem too concerned with it. "You're smart. I am a foreigner, I was trafficked from New Ebondium. It's easy to exploit a land that was defeated, no?"

Your eyes trail to the window, massaging a tentative finger to your wounded ear wings.

"They tried to cut it off with a pair of rusty old scissors a few days ago." You start, "to them, they didn't care what I am—I'm nothing but a scum from New Ebondium—they said. They also wondered if halovian wings would fetch a high price in the market. That's why I asked for help from you, I thought you'd do something about those bastards and you did."

Sunday's shock turns to fury.

"Blasphemous."

White hot anger rises from his throat and deeper within his veins, a surge of protectiveness. It didn't matter if war ceased three years ago. Whatever the outcome, the victors would always be aligned with honor, breeding pride and prejudice, a slow cycle for the absolute victors and punishment-bearers.

This was not the dream of victory Sunday honors.

Tenderly, the boy brushes your feathers with his knuckles, inspecting closely. From the audience's seats, he didn't notice a single thing wrong about you, but up close, your colored plumages feel stiff and rough beneath his skin, untended and oily and not preened properly—the aspect of a halovian's wings are their basis of pride, divine innocence and most of all, freedom. It's their most cherished possession, ridding one of its feathers means cutting their life to the ground, to be helpless, to die flightless.

It's the fact that your birth-given wings beneath your ears have already been threatened to be chopped off, you haven't even fully grown out your secondary wings yet...

Sunday pulls himself out of his own thoughts when he feels palms lifting his cheeks up.

His eyes lock with yours and for a moment the two of you stay like that, watching the other's folded expression closely.

"You're sad." You concluded after your inspection. "Why are you sad?"

Why were you asking this question?

"You think I shouldn't feel sad about this?"

"No one has." You answer him. "Not the Penaconian folks and definitely not someone like you."

Someone like me, you say. Sunday should feel insulted from such distinctions. But at the back of his head, he knows you're right.

He lets out a shaky exhale.

It's weird. The feeling tickling in his chest is different, there's a tentative pull that he feels towards you but he cannot quite understand why. Aside from Robin no one else had expressed trust in him, a trust that didn't have any basis or solid ground. You had trusted him the moment your eyes met from across the stage, trusted him of your origin and your wounds from harassment that mar the canvas of your body.

You trusted him despite not knowing him.

Sunday doesn't understand.

By the time the inspection was finished, Sunday had to leave the room and you were called back with the other kids. The night was dead and the rain had stopped pouring, mechanical carriages awaited outside as Bloodhounds ushered the children within.

"Where have you run off to?"

Sunday looks up at Gopher, the night rests peacefully upon his face, his arms crossed softly over his chest. The young boy avoids eye contact first, then looks back at his deep eyes, "I just wanted to take a look around the area."

"Hm." Gopher hums. "Next time, take someone from the Bloodhounds with you. You could've run into trouble."

Run into trouble. The man's deep voice invokes doubt, enough to pierce and stumble Sunday's self-morale.

He bites his tongue.

"Of course."

The young boy focuses on the line of children in front of them, he's reminded of you. Sunday knew that if these kids will grow up, they will be like lambs to a slaughter. To be entangled in a more governed and high atrocity the closer they get to the Capital.

And then there's you, a girl from the enemy land, the girl who loves to perform—born to be one. One mishap from you and your life would tumble down like a weed in a garden.

'Oh, aren't you that halovian boy with the large halo?' 'My instincts told me to trust you.' 'Why are you sad?'

Your voice is in Sunday's head, your tone absent of any sort of expectations or contempt.

It felt like petals falling, your voice that is.

Sunday wants to hear it again—he cares.

He felt like he had the responsibility to look after you now after that statement of yours, after relishing briefly in your company, the young boy cannot help but crave for more, like a moth to a flame.

So when you appear from the door, following the line to the carriage—he steps out from his place beside the Minister, he cannot help but reach out and circle your wrist, the line that flowed like a stream suddenly meeting its disturbance, the boy could feel many eyes on him, burning his skin. It almost makes him flush red with embarrassment, but your eyes appear gentle like he'd remember a few moments ago beneath that moonlight, encouraging, so he stills his determination.

"Son?" Gopher questions.

But Sunday's eyes are on you.

You're sad. Why are you sad?

You think I shouldn't feel sad about this?

No one has. Not the Penaconian folks and definitely not someone like you.

"You're wrong because I care." He tells you, he feels the warmth of your wrist, the pulse on his fingertip, pouring at a similar rhythm of his own heartbeat. "Pain is still pain. It does not discriminate, not with rugs or with riches."

From there on, he has made his final decision and turns to his guardian.

"Mr. Gopher Wood." Says Sunday, a tinge of weakness in his tone, he takes another breath, fists clenched.

"I want her." He says. "As a companion for Robin and I."

"Sunday." Gopher's eyes narrow. "If you demand something, speak with a voice of confidence, only then will I listen to you."

Sunday's eyes widened, this was the first time the Minister had given him a chance to explain himself. He feels the warmth of your skin beneath his palm.

He looks at you gingerly. "Will you come with me?"

You seem also shocked by his actions, but you're quick to recover. "Only if you allow it."

"Then, she'll be coming back with me to the Church, Mr. Gopher Wood."

There was a splotch of silence, then a small exhale from the tall man. "Alright then. If you wish for a friend, who am I to refuse my son's request?" Sunday's surprise of Gopher Wood's pliancy on the matter. Sunday beckons you to stand with him and watch as the last remaining kids enter the carriage. The Minister had his final say with some of the Bloodhound officers and Sunday diverted his attention, ready to take you to their carriage.

He stops when he notices you staring up at the Velvet House once more, you squeezed Sunday's hand. "You told me pain is still pain despite rugs or riches."

"Yes, I did."

"Then, do you truly understand my pain?"

Sunday notices the melancholy framing your irises and the lilt of your tone, he tilts his head and says your name for the first time that night. That garners your attention and you look back at him,

He releases your hand only to reach out and hold both your ear wings upon his cupped palms. He feels the feathers once again and remembers its touch of roughness—he hasn't told you this, but there was a time where both he and Robin had smoke rubble and tangy blood caking their feathers. It was such a long time ago, but Sunday would dare not forget his mother's caresses and final words.

He holds your face softly, "My dream will involve everyone. It will be a paradise where the weak will be protected and one day, when we are older, if you wish for a stage to perform I'll build you one, something more grander than Velvet house, where everyone will love you and your voice. Pain and harassment will not be a factor."

You stare dumbfounded at his bold statement, Sunday sees your eyes turn starry-eyed.

"You promise?" You asked him, hopeful.

The boy is still young, doe-eyed and ruddy-cheeked, skin still dewy from any tribulations, with the first touch of the sun on the tip of his tongue when he says,

"I promise you."

“Another dead Halovian, sir.” There is a strain in the officer's tone, the body before them covered with a plain sheet, concealing the corpse.

"She was a widowed baron's wife." Gopher Wood's brows knotted, conflicted. The night lamp from afar provides ample light, glittering the chain hanging from his glasses.

"Are there any leads?"

"The local detectives are on their way here. But it will take about a day or two to gather any concrete evidence."

"What a waste of precious time." the man chastises. "By the time the detectives finish their work, the perpetrator would have escaped the city."

"My apologies, Chamberlain. However with the issues of Lady Constance's funeral preparations, the missing merchants and the suspicious activities of New Ebondium our resources are running incredibly thin."

Gopher Wood cannot help but pinch the bridge of his nose, rarely does he show any pint of irritation but the ongoing problem has been thinning his patience. "I had told those ignoramus Family heads to handle this affair weeks ago. Time and time again they have proven to be incompet—"

He catches himself before insults can spill any further. The atmosphere hushes into silence, merely the humming of lamplight and the distance roars of mechanical gears fill the cracked air.

Gopher barely turns his head, fixing his gloves. "Sunday."

"Yes, Minister?"

"This situation shall be kept hidden from the public and there's nothing more for you to learn today, you may head back to the Church."

The boy tilts his head. "Then, I’ll take my leave."

The night is achingly cold, even with him bundled up in a woolen scarf. His chauffeur guides him back to the awaiting carriage at the end of the alleyway, the young boy gets in and they are set off. When Sunday leans his elbow by the window sill, the radio starts to sputter:

"Convicted suspects of the horrible discovery in the downtown sector of the Velvet House have already been sentenced to their execution a few system hours ago. Their punishment to drink a half-pint of foxglove from a silver goblet, they have been—"

Sunday closes his eyes.

"Coach."

"Yes, young lord?"

"Please turn the radio off."

"Right away, young lord." His eyes remain vacant on the moving road, his fingers thrumming on his lap. Aside from the silence from the lessening radio, he could hear the distant roars of mechanical wirings and cogs from the Industrial Capital, the clips of horses' hooves as his carriage continued to roll by the granite road.

And just like that, after two weeks of hearing about the trials, the judgment, following the Minister around, the people involved with the trafficking had met their tragic end.

Penacony's news and radios had been sputtering about the incident, coupling it with the gasps from passersby and locals of all the sectors that bore witness to such atrocities. Two weeks of nonstop rumors and gossip about the tainted downtowns of deepened black market connections running haywire, and how they had gone radio silent after the crimes had surfaced to the Capital and the Bloodhounds.

In a couple of weeks people will move on from the topic, and days will continue to ebb and flow like clockwork.

That also means it has been exactly two weeks since you came to the Church.

Two weeks since Sunday last spoke to you.

Your schedule doesn't seem to find a crossroad. On the night of your arrival to the Church, the Minister had pulled Sunday aside,

"You've matured, Sunday." Gopher Wood had a different expression on his face. "I will tell the Academy to change your general studies to something more befitting. It's about time you start learning how to be a leader of this Nation."

Sunday should've been more aware of this outcome. The price of the Minister's lack of scolding on the matter concerning you—was Sunday's obedience and devotion to his growing responsibility. And thus, more weight was added on his shoulders.

With more duties on his plate comes the sacrifice of spending less time with his sister or having leisure time for himself.

The carriage stops. "We have arrived, please watch your step when you exit, master."

Sunday straightens, picking up his textbooks and exiting the carriage, what greets him at the entrance of the Church was one of the sisters that raised him, her smile kind, "Welcome back, Sunday. You've done well today, allow me to take your textbooks to your room."

"Thank you but there's no need, Sister Ruth." Sunday hesitates. "Is Robin home already?"

"Yes, she finished her recitals earlier and is now singing for tonight's sermon—ah." Ruth's eyes brighten. "That young girl volunteered to sing tonight as well, both have such lovely voices. Miss Robin and her seem to be enjoying each other's company."

A small smile graces Sunday's lips. "I see."

During the short time busying himself with the Minister's demands, he has found how you and Robin had grown closer to one another each passing day.

It was an instant click of friendship, Robin warmed up to you first after hearing of your circumstances (of course, Sunday hid the fact that you were New Ebondium-borne).

It only took a day or two to realize how similar you two were; she dreamt about being a star one day, you responded kindly to the same notion, your child-like dreams of performance still small and conserved, passion growing like a flavorful fresh fruit. The other day, Sunday saw how Robin had enthusiastically pulled you to join her in her recitals and practices, sometimes during the lukewarm afternoon light, he would hear you both giggling over in Robin's room or he would see you two care for the other children, tidying up the dinette table together, talking and grinning, the kids offering you a wreath to crown your head, the sisters patting your head or cheek affectionately.

It always brings a smile to Sunday's face to see you getting along so well with the others, a little relieved that Robin has another companion of her age whenever the boy is too busy. But at the same time, Sunday cannot help but feel a bit left out, a type of bittersweetness on the duvet of his expression whenever he sees you and the others, a gaping ache of loneliness in his chest that continues to grow a ravine, but he swallows down his own emotions.

"Would you like to join them?" Ruth asks. "I can go ahead and—"

"No, it's alright. I…" Sunday hesitates a second too late. "The Academy is expecting me to do well for the next exams, I have to study. Please send my greetings to those two."

Ruth's smile is softer now, sad. "Okay. Be sure to take breaks in the middle, young lord." The boy feels a warm hand caressing his cheek, almost achingly akin to a mother's touch of concern. "You're still fifteen, you shouldn't be worked up over things like these so early."

"I know." Sunday sends her a kind smile, pivoting in his heel after bidding her a curt farewell.

But he can't help but worry about his future responsibilities as the future successor, too busy worrying to join you and Robin so leisurely,

And his loneliness is quickly filled with matters of the Ménage.

The night is growing colder by the minute and Sunday finds himself leafing through the pages of one of his books—he cannot find it in him to sleep with ease, deprived and muddled with so many troubles. The Academy has high hopes for him to rank one and sooner or later depending on how he performs, he will be introduced as the Chamberlain's successor at the next banquet in the heart of the Ménage.

Sunday closes his eyes for a moment, a headache rampant. It's too much.

He sighs heavily, leaning his head against his arm. A knock on the door pulls him from his own thoughts, he flinches at the unexpected disturbance.

"Who's there?" He calls out softly, his eyes wander to the clock, 2:34am. It's so late for someone to come over. Silence answers him at first, however Sunday could hear the heartbeat of the person on the opposite side of the door, a mellow whisper and a dainty shuffle of feet beneath the wood.

"Sunday?" His breath hitches at your soft voice. "May I come in?"

The chair is dragged back as he stands. When he reaches the door he cannot help but fleet his gaze to the mirror in the corner, he squints beneath the dim light, pressing his shirt flat from creases, making sure his cowlicks are tamed down and presentable; he fusses over his appearance for a while before he cracks the door open.

His eyes sought yours and just like that, his lethargy lessens. You greet him on the other hand, your familiar smile decorating your lips, head tilted to the side.

"Hi."

"Hey." Sunday pauses, eyes looking you up and down, a frown on his lips. "The night is getting chillier, why are you only wearing cotton?"

He reaches out, albeit reluctantly for your hand to tug you in—only to jolt from how icy your fingers feel.

He sighs then. “Take care of yourself.”

His kiss-warmth hands are firm over your own, the boy pulls out a wool blanket from his wardrobe, wrapping it generously around your shoulders. He closes the door to his room and asks you to follow him to the lounge where a fireplace rests. You both sit in front of the hearth as Sunday clumsily cracks fire embers on the wood, it took a minute or two before red crumbs grew bright, licking up charred wood and humming through the empty air.

"Thank you." You let out a puff of breath, inching your cold fingers near the fire, then you turn to him. "Sorry if I'm disturbing you, I just couldn't sleep."

"No, no—" He's quick to clear his throat. "It's alright, really. I couldn't sleep either." His golden eyes drop to the heavy book being cradled to your chest.

"Looks like the two of us have things on our minds."

When Sunday looks back at you, your eyes are tipped upward in a smile.

He looks away immediately.

He hasn't mentioned it but it still feels a little odd to see you walking around the Church like that; hair untied, dressed in a simple cotton fabric—maybe he was used to seeing you in that silk-priced performance dress back at Velvet House but as you walk around, there's something else that seem to change about you.

There's still an air of untouched sophistication about you, your steps feather-like and quiet, sometimes he feels like if there is any form of danger right around the corner you won't hesitate to up and vanish like a smoke. But now, there's grounded reassurance—with the light of the fire, your wings appear preened and fluffier than usual, like it's been taken care more, it susurrates as you flap it. You settle comfortably on the floor beside him, nose buried into the blanket around your shoulder, and Sunday thinks that you look domestic, more like a child now than before.

You open your eyes. "Robin mentioned how much of a scholar you are."

He chuckles. "I'm just alright."

"Really?" You tilt your head. "You seem to like spending more time with books and scriptures than wanting to spend time with us."

Sunday's lips curve into a thin smile, he jots down about your unexpected boldness in his head then he quietly takes the empty space beside you, the floor creaking under his light weight. His wings flap once, twice. peeved and troubled. "I don’t particularly like scriptures as much as you thought." He turns his attention to the book you have. "What do you have there?"

He sees you look at him, down at the book, then up again.

"Oh." Your fingers are tentative over the letters inked onto the book. "This is just a book from the library I found. I was wondering if you knew of this." A pause. "I just didn't know how to approach you."

Sunday shakes his head, then leans in. "What is it? I can teach you if you want."

The boy wasn't expecting you to inch closer to his face, he refrains his wings from expressing his fluster and surprise, tucking it beneath his ears daintily when he sees you cup a palm around your mouth, your voice becoming whispery and hushed on his ear.

"It's about the Reef."

"The Reef,” He echoes. “The one that borders Penacony and separates the land from New Ebondium?" Sunday swallows his bash and answers you in a scholarly tone.

You nod your head. "Yes."

"Why are you curious about it?"

"The folks from the Velvet House mentioned it a couple of times back then." There's a look of adamancy in your expression, something that stirs Sunday. "They mentioned how difficult it is to go through the Reef and cross the border, why is that?"

The young boy thinks about it for a moment, during his travels he finds himself picking up certain information not privy to the public ears—on one of his journey towards the Serenity District, the closest location to the Reef itself—he has heard of Bloodhound officers talking about a creature spotted in that zone, not exactly the Legion but something more sinister.

Sunday spares you a look, his amber eyes glowing beneath the late hour. He leans forward, enough that his lips are brushing the feathers of your wings.

"There's a mimema in there."

"What's a mimema?"

"A meme." He simply says. "A creature as big as the most priced stallions in the high districts, said to have multiple eyes, golden claws and a weird...inky proportion."

He can feel your long silence. Then you ask, "Like a monster almost?"

"Yeah, almost. People have been said to have disappeared whilst crossing the Reef, mostly verified merchants trading to and fro." Sunday pauses. "That's just a myth though."

"I see." Your fingertip runs across the page, tracing the lines of a map on the book. "Then, can you teach me more about Penacony? I barely know anything about it aside from the Velvet House."

Sunday blinks his amber eyes down at you, the fire continues to crackle and burn. "Why me?"

"Why not you?"

"I'm," he looks away, insecurity is quick to well up inside of him as he remembers Mister Gopher Wood’s critique. You still have a lot to learn, son. He told him one time, and the young boy is quick to believe it.

"I'm not that good yet.” He tells you, and a pang coils through the air at the sound of rejection, he readies himself to stand and return to his room. “Forgive me but it’s best if you ask Robin or the Sisters…”

“Sunday, wait.” You catch the palm of his hand in yours, stopping his pace completely.

“Don’t leave yet, you don’t have to if you don’t want to—” You were quick to say, noticing the complicated expression caking his golden eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just been two weeks and I…I have been looking for a reason to approach you, this was the only thing I could come up with.”

Then and there, young Sunday realizes the issue. He starts to piece together your unexpected visit, your sudden interest about Penacony and your request for him to teach you.

Two weeks, he has busied himself with other matters that he hasn’t spoken to you in that long. He thought Robin’s company was enough to satiate you, or the presence of the Sisters and the other children that you don’t need him.

He thought you didn't need him, but here you were, reaching out to him first when he should’ve kept his promise to you the moment he intertwined his hands with yours and offered you to come live with him.

“I just want to spend more time with you.” He finally sees the look of loneliness in your eyes, your hand squeezes his own, a lingering yearning in your own eyes. “You were the one that helped me and took me away from that hell. I just want us to be friends at the very least.”

Sunday cannot help but stare at you simply. There's valiance pooling in your eyes, a shine that dares to overflow it makes his breath hitch. The young boy clears his throat, he turns away—the apple of his cheeks burning and not because of the hearth's warmth—he traces his steps back and occupies the space beside you once again, the action makes your shoulders slump in relief.

His amber eyes are akin to the fire in front of both of you, “You don’t need to say all of that, I already see you as a friend.”

Your eyes seem to sparkle at his reply, your hands are still latched, and the boy is hyper aware of the feel of your cool fingers and the mild calluses written on your palm. He reaches out to brush some rebellious strands from your face, “I should be the one to say sorry, I was the one who brought you here and I never gave you reassurance.”

You shake your head. “I knew there were other things that worried you. I saw it in your eyes when you were talking with that Minister,”

So, even you noticed that.

You continued, “Robin has told me a lot about you.” Sunday cannot help but feel bashful at your confession. “She’s worried about you too, you know. She wants you to lean on her when you feel overwhelmed.”

Sunday’s smiles thin and he replies to your statement, a light-hearted chuckle leaving his lips. The night continues to prolong and ink through the minutes, however the two of you find yourself staying in each other’s company in the lounge. You were an easy person to be around, you were willing to listen as conversation quickly fills the background. Your chatting ranged from random spurts of topics you wish to tell the other—talking about your days in the Church, what you liked and disliked—to in-depth talks about philosophies from Sunday, even if there was a lack of heartfelt conversations tonight, it didn’t matter. The boy had yearned to interact with you since he saw you in Velvet House, being able to chat with ease about anything and everything was all that he needed.

That night, Sunday learned more about you as you did with him. You didn’t realize how long you both lingered and talked that the fire had reached its lifetime, and the dregs of sleep had pulled you both under, conquering your consciousness. The enthusiastic chattering quickly shifts into silence and you both fall asleep on the lounge floor, huddled together with the blanket Sunday had lent you.

By the next morning, the young boy awakens with Robin poking his cheek. His drowsy amber eyes fall to his sister’s sly expression and only then did he realize how he had fallen asleep whilst chatting with you throughout the night, and how he had you close to him, an arm beneath your head to act like a cushion at the absence of a pillow and his other arm draped over the blanket like he’s shielding you from the cold.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Robin coos teasingly. “Seems like the two of you had fun without me last night.”

“It’s not like that.” Robin could only laugh sweetly which made Sunday’s ears brush red yet again. It seems as if his soft skin had melange with rud these days. The boy sits up, cradling your head as you continue to slumber and he looks down at you softly.

Robin sees this and gets up from her crouched position, her dress fluttering “Her room is just across from mine.” She tells him. “I’ll help make breakfast. Take care of her, brother. She’s been through a lot.”

With one last smile in his direction, Robin exits the lounge leaving Sunday to ponder. Take care of her, brother, the sentence resonates through him. Without sparing another second, Sunday winds a hand around your shoulder and the other under your knees to lift you up into his embrace. You seem to unconsciously drift closer to him, your cheek and tucked wing making home on the crook of his neck as Sunday takes you to your own room.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach it, struggling a little with you in his arms and juggling the doorknob open. Sunday hasn’t been inside your own space before, but as soon as he steps inside the boy cannot help but realize how much the room is akin to its owner—he was reminded of the room he found you in at the Velvet House. The honey gold spilling through the thin curtains and melting down the floor looked like performance lights. Your bed is a fluffy nest, with layers of caked beddings and duvets, he spots a vanity, a wardrobe, a desk with a singular notebook tucked by the corner. He diverts his attention and waddles his way to your mattress and slowly sinks you on its comfortable sheets.

He cannot help the smile from invading his lips when you let out a breathy sigh of comfort. His hand inches to brush your hair again but his fingertips stop just as it graces your forehead, “It should be me, thanking you.” He mutters out softly.

“If it weren’t for you…”

Sunday pauses briefly, amber eyes observing your peaceful expression. He ruminates upon his thoughts as the morning continues to float around the room in gentle waves.

Sunday had kept his promise to you. After the whole ordeal with you visiting him and asking him to teach you more about Penacony—he approached you the next few days and was more than willing to give you a few pointers of what he was taught by his tutors and the Academy. Ruth specifically was elated at how you two are getting along now. More importantly, looking at the gentle look Sister Ruth gave Sunday, the boy knew why she was relieved.

Ever since taking private lessons to be the head of the Church at thirteen, Sunday stopped acting like a child and had been making surface-level relationships. Aside from the people within the Church, Robin and Mister Gopher Wood—he never let anyone genuinely in.

You were the first in a long while that Sunday was letting into his life.

Of course, neither Sunday nor Sister Ruth mentioned that fact as he guides you to his room, books already stacked and ready at his desk for topic reviews.

Time passes in a blink of an eye.

After a few slices of moments together, Sunday came to a quick realization that you don't seem to hold a heavy amount of worry about the future like he does, and even if you did, it didn't seem to affect your person.

Bright, glittering, crystalline water—that's what he describes you as. With your grinning eyes, curves of your lips and alluring tone—it's easy for anyone to fall into your own little puddle, you seem to have a talent with that. By the next month since you've arrived in the Church, you have become the sweetheart of many. It's well known how much Robin had considered you her dear friend, or how the younger kids had called you their pretty older sister, or how the Sisters of the Church had called you their darling girl.

And as for Sunday, the young scholar boy continues to fall into the currents of your mannerisms, your bold trajectory, your hauntingly drawn smile, deeper than anyone can sink themselves into.

All those routine nights studying alone through wordy scriptures and heavy proverbs was simply replaced by your presence and the crackle of fire. That one late night visiting Sunday turned to two, then four—to the point the boy doesn’t question when he hears his door open and close because he knows it’s just you, another new book in your arms and questions ready to slip between your tongue.

You were easily Sunday's best student, you were quick to understand certain verses, can make analysis and theories on certain economic and political decisions of the Ménage, get into deep discussions with him in terms of Penaconian history and learn its linguistics. It had quickly become a study session for the two of you—one of the last things on his routine which Sunday favored the most. It was the only time you two got to spend time together since his mornings and afternoons were preoccupied by private tutoring.

"You learned the Penaconian language faster than I expected." Sunday's impressed at your written notes, they are all correct and easy to understand. Then he starts cleaning up the mess of cards and parchments from his room floor. The boy was too busy to notice your long stare. When he gathers up the last remaining notes, he barely sees you reach out your hand until he feels the touch of fingertips grazing the feathers of his wings, touching a nerve.

Sunday jolts back in surprise, curling his wings protectively beneath his gray hair. "...What is it?"

"Oh sorry. It’s nothing, I just..." You seem to be daydreaming, stagnant and saddened all of a sudden. "To Halovians, wings are their lifeline. Scriptures and textbooks have mentioned the divinity and the meaning of wings to Halovians so I still cannot understand why there will be people out there that desire to cut off our wings."

Sunday is quiet for a moment, he cannot help but sigh heavily. "Did you eavesdrop on the passing guards outside of our Church?"

Your silence is almost deafening. "What do you mean?"

"Did you hear about the recent serial murders of Halovians?" He asks. Your expression shifts: shocked, caught, then melancholic.

You nod slowly and the boy's shoulders droop.

A month has passed already, and that meant three more dead Halovians found in ditches and alleyways with no clue of the murderer behind it. The only alarming difference from the first found body—was that the recently murdered Halovians had ripped off wings and missing halos. Maybe the black market networks are finally making a bold move after the execution of their own? Sunday hasn't heard anything from Minister Gopher Wood in awhile since the first case.

The very thought of those mutilated Halovians twists ichor and sickness within Sunday.

Then for a moment, everything seems to stop.

The two of you hear clattering, then the door creaks open, Ruth emerges with a lantern in hand, her expression creased with panic and worry. Something felt wrong.

“What the matter?” Sunday is up on his feet, his pulse is racing.

Ruth is reluctant for a second, then she says. “It’s the young miss.” She says. “We can’t find her anywhere.”

Robin. Sunday felt like his whole world crashed for a momentary second.

𐔌౨ৎ 、 MASTERLIST ノ NEXT CHAPTER

taglist — @kazucee @3lectraheart @cakechase @swivi @justcallmemidnight

[justbelievinginmagic]

im(mortal) - part 3: blurred.

pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader. series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? glimpse: Jake gives into temptation and pulls his blood-brothers into his fascinations with the human woman that makes his vampiric heart beat faster than ever. warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore, Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, College AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, ot7 x reader but not poly ot7 (but some are really close tbh), 3rd person POV, use of YN, Ni-ki written as Riki, mature topics, vampire typical themes, vampire lore, mentions of blood, biting, death, other vampire things, canon typical violence, descriptions of blood & sounds of blood, bloodlusting, stealing blood bags, mentions of illnesses, mentions of medicine, obsessive tendencies from Jake, lowkey stalking lets be real, flirting, suggestive themes, let me know if there needs to be more tags! word count: 8.7k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

“According to an anonymous tip, there have been 10 confirmed cases of a novel illness with unknown etiology at Desolis General Hospital. Doctors are working quick to identify its source and possible treatment. This is a developing situation, so, as always, wash your hands and when coug-” The newscaster read off the teleprompter with little gravity to his tone. It held the same old ‘newscaster tone’ inflecting at odd moments to keep the viewers’ attention.

In the hospital’s waiting room, a normal human could barely hear it over the busy hustle and bustle. The beeping of medical equipment, the shuffling of papers, and the gossiping of the front desk admins all overlapped to make the audio nearly inaudible. The few patients waiting in uncomfortable plastic chairs had to rely on the severely delayed black-boxed subtitles popping up below the newscast. But, Jungwon could hear it. Jungwon could hear a pen drop two doors down; he could hear the phlegmy cough from the old man in the waiting room; he could hear the doctors discussing private patient information behind their closed office doors. And of course, he could hear the siren call of a hospital full of hearts. Beating, thudding, pumping, and pulsing. Nonstop. Overwhelming. Constant.

He could hear everything as he continued his night-shift on the second floor of the Desolis General Hospital. Jungwon rounded a corner, raising the surgical mask up over his nose as he rolled the freshly sanitized and plastic-sealed equipment down the hall.   

“What do you think?” a concerned voice chimed, half-muffled by the oak door Jungwon strolled past.

“I think they’re blowing it out of proportion frankly – especially with that news article,” an elderly-sounding man argued.

“What could it be then?”

“Anemia,” the man coughed after his reply. “Strange severe cases of anemia. Chest pains, shortness of breath, extreme fatigue, and even pica. Odd, yes. Novel, no.”

His tone held an air of finality. Like there was no other explanation except that.

“Ten concurring cases of low-iron deficiency, doctor?” the woman laughed in disbelief. There was a shuffle, the squeaking of leathered seat and another cough into a hanky.

“Give them -,” the man’s voice was strained, scratchy, “- a blood transfusion; prescribe iron-pills and a diet change. Bingo. All fixed.” He chortled lowly.

“Any links between the patients? Living situations, shared restaurants, or places of works? This is all just a coincidence?” she queried, unconvinced.

“None that we could find. I really think it’s just luck. Bad luck.”

Jungwon huffed, heat billowing out of his mask and into his eyes. More blood transfusions meant more of Sunghoon and Jay getting ‘dinner.” Sunghoon will hate this. While he was good at tracking and breaking and entering, he wasn’t the best with carefulness. There was an air of confidence and optimism that Jungwon just didn’t have in his slow-beating heart anymore. Mistakes were always around the corner. There had been times where Jay had to fix Sunghoon’s mess-ups. Some Jungwon told him; others he kept secret.

It’d be easier if Jungwon could just pocket a few IVs of blood. But it was too dangerous now. Ugh. So inconvenient.  

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Once, twice, three times. His brows crinkled. They know he’s working tonight. They know when his break was. (His schedule was posted on the fridge via a yellow sticky note – like always.)

So why were they texting him? And who?

It could be Sunoo. He’d been moody after dinner earlier, but Jungwon welcomed it. A sassy Sunoo was better than a despondent Sunoo after all. He’d do anything to have him be how he was before. He sighed out.

Or perhaps it was Sunghoon. He’d been practicing ice-skating lately and would send the group chat updates of his routines. He was happier now Jungwon noted. He smiled at the thought.

Pushing the cart into a darkened closet, he whipped out his phone. His face was illuminated by the blue glow.

It was neither.

It was Jay.

FYI Jake’s not home.

Well, shit.

-

“Stop digging through my head,” Sunghoon commented, the tone like a little sibling annoying his older sibling.

He passed by Heeseung without even a glance, walking from one room to the next. It nearly looked like he was floating. Too smooth and far too ethereal to look human. But then, the illusion was broken as Sunghoon’s hand rose to rub at his eye, blinking against the bright lights blearily. His glasses (yes, he was the only immortal with prescription glasses) were shifted up the bridge of his nose. He looked this way and that for his charger.

He had an essay to write, and his laptop died. You’d think with all the money Jungwon had they’d have chargers everywhere, but nope. Like any family, they’d borrow chargers and forget to give them back or move them while cleaning or have them fall behind cushions or couches.

Heeseung followed quickly behind the other man. His gaze firm as he stared down the back of Sunghoon’s head.

“You know something,” Heeseung bit out, less with venom and more with frustration.

Sunghoon had this strange ability that was nothing otherworldly, but ever-annoying for the vampire who could know anything and everything with a little mind-reading. Sunghoon was able to just babble in his brain. This and that, science ramble from his classes, his routines for ice skating, sometimes just ‘Heeseung, stop snooping’ on repeat. Anything and everything except the information Heeseung wanted to know.

“Yeah, I know something. Me, not you,” Sunghoon almost sing-songed, blank faced as he continued his search.

Sunghoon hated when Heeseung tried to look inside his brain. He’d gotten so good at avoiding his blood-brother’s skill out of pure hard-work and spite. He liked his privacy. It was hard enough to get any with six forever-roommates.

“Jake’s been acting weird since class, and he’s now nowhere around the house, and you talked to him last. I saw that,” Heeseung ranted.

That was the flicker of a memory Heeseung latched onto. Jake and Sunghoon talking only a short time ago (there was a hint of ‘I need to do my homework’ in the background of Sunghoon’s mind). Jake looked frazzled as he spoke quickly, eyes darting this way and that before he turned and walked out the door.

Meanwhile, in the present, Sunghoon focused on looking for his charger. Visualizing his charger, its white boxy form. The prongs. The twisted cord. The clear initials written in black ink.

“Stop thinking about the charger,” Heeseung complained, head tilting back in exasperation. “How are you so good at hiding your real thoughts?”

“Just to bug you, hyung,” Sunghoon said as he checked behind a pillow on the sofa. Nope, not there.

Jay, who sat on the opposite side of the sofa, raised a brow at the pair. Heeseung huffed.

“C’mon, where did he go? It’s for his safety!” Heeseung argued.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. Jake didn’t look unsafe when he had come to him with the bribe of silence in exchange of his portion of blood. He looked restless. Mussed dark hair, his eyes glowing in the bright lights of the mansion. He even could smell fire in his hair. He’s just worked up. Sunghoon knew where he’d go when it came to frustration – the ice rink. Surely, Jake had his own place he went. It was his business. And it’d stay his business.

“He’ll be fine. He can’t hurt a fly,” Sunghoon argued, waving a hand in nonchalance before checking behind another pillow.

Jay stood, and glanced behind the pillow he had been squishing. Nope, nothing. Sunghoon ran a tongue over his fangs, restlessly. God, where did he put his charger? Did someone move it?

“Jay, tell him that it’s for the safety of the flock for him to tell me where Jake went,” Heeseung looked towards the other for support.

Jay glanced over the vampire men; their emotions easy to read like the aroma of scented candles. Frustration, deep and nutty, filled his senses; concern that tasted like too-strong brewed tea burned in the back of his throat; doubt that was icy cool like chewing gum hit like a wave.

Sunghoon gave Jay a look; one that was half pleading, half annoyed.

“He’s not gonna do anything,” Sunghoon sighed out, trying to defend Jake.

“Jay,” Heeseung huffed again. His chin tilted as he looked over at his blood-brother despairingly.

There wasn’t any deception. Jay knew the taste of that; salty as sorrow but with the bitter bite of sulfur. Guilt. Deception. Whatever you’d call it. It was vacant.

“He’s telling the truth, Seungie,” Jay conceded, returning to his seat, and swinging his laptop over his knees. “He really doesn’t think there is any danger.”

“He’s a kid,” Heeseung cried out.

“Really can’t keep playing that card,” Sunghoon sighed out, plopping down besides Jay. “We’re over a hundred years old now, you know?”

“Niki,” Heeseung called out instead, turning towards the stairwell.

“I didn’t take his charger!” It was immediately yelled back. Almost too quick.

Jay could smell the salty, volcanic ash of a lie. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head.

“You did steal it!” Sunghoon complained. “Give it back now. What the heck, Riki?”

“No, come here,” Heeseung demanded instead. “I need you to go get Jake.”

“Is that necessary?” Jay asked tentatively.

Jay’s face was one of concern now, a grimace falling over his face as he was once again pulled from his computer science assignment. He pushed his laptop onto the coffee table.

“Sunghoon would’ve stopped him; this is a little… much,” Jay commented.

Heeseung raised a brow, questioningly. It was for their safety…right? Jungwon would agree if he was here. He would! Besides… Riki loved a good game of hide and go seek.

There was a soft lulling in Heeseung’s veins, something that said everything was fine. Everything was fine. Deep breath, lavender haze.

“Jay!” he exclaimed out; anger fizzing over Jay’s tongue at Heeseung’s rapid shift in emotions. “Don’t use your powers against me.”

“Don’t use them against them,” Jay warned, brows raised. He looked at Sunghoon as if he was example A.

There was a sag in Heeseung’s shoulders before he turned to face the youngest of them, leaning over the stairs’ banister. A sharp smile bit at Riki’s face.

“Jake is hiding?” he wiggled his brows.

Sighing at the youngest’s excitement sweet on his tongue, Jay turned back to his coding. With Riki intrigued, they’d never be able to stop him now. He loved his freedom too much.

“You think you’ll be able to find him?” Heeseung asked, but when he spoke to Riki, there was a change in tone.

A challenge. Playful. Less like an older brother and more like a friend.

“Give me a few hours and he’ll be back here,” Riki promised.

“Hours don’t mean anything to a boy who can stop time,” Sunghoon commented. He made a grabby hand towards Riki who tossed the lost-stolen-borrowed charger his way.

“You want to take up the challenge instead, tracker?” Heeseung retorted.

Sunghoon’s hands raised in defense. He hated being defined by his ‘skills’, and Heeseung knew it. “Have fun, Riki.”

The youngest laughed out, a mouth full of fangs as he grinned. He never got to do anything fun nowadays. This will be a good hunt.

“Go find him and bring him back before Jungwon gets home.” 

Riki offered the three vampires a salute before, in a flash, he was gone.

-

As night fell, a storm crawled into the city. Rolling clouds of thunder and lightning crashed over the tall skyscrapers and stacked-upon-stacked buildings. The smell of petrichor engulfed the streets as rain poured and trickled down the pavement in rivulets. Even amongst the heavy downpour, Jake could still smell her, hear her, feel her. His hand rose to press against his chest, tugging at his hoodie to feel his heart race. It was like something he had never felt before. Amazed and bewildered, he stared at her from his spot in the woods.

Her heart pulsed in a quick beat, but the melody was becoming familiar to him. Why could he hear her so well? He had no idea. But what he did know was that there was a rush of calm seeing her safe and dry beneath the bus stop’s awning. Her heart was racing, but it wasn’t from fear. All she was doing now was scrolling through her phone, shifting to glance up and down the street every so often. Aware. But even then, she didn’t see him, hidden in the brush.

Dark overgrown bushes and thick pine-tree trunks kept him covered and hidden from her watchful gaze. The rain pitter-pattered, making the dirt beneath his feet muddy. His hoodie had been pulled up over his head (despite the umbrella in his hand that he had taken from the foyer of the mansion.) but he still felt droplets of water hit his face.

He didn’t want her to see him.  He didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted to admire. To observe? He didn’t know. He just had to see her.

Jake’s head lulled to rest against a nearby tree as he felt the breath of life tumble through him. Sweat had dried on his neck earlier, and now it tingled in the cool humid air. When was the last time he got chills from the air? His mouth watered at the tempting smell of her, but the hunger always clawed in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t new. Yes, their Heartbeat was a new addition but… he could admire not obsess. He’d ignore his hunger, the Beast, the bite of his fangs. He didn’t want to bite her. He did, but… he didn’t. It didn’t make sense in his head. He felt dizzy. The streetlights flickered.

Her siren-heart calmed him into a whirl, losing his thoughts. Her heart was pretty, he decided. Was it delirium? Was he being driven mad by the thu-thump-thu-thumping that hadn’t left his eardrums since she was introduced to him that evening? Obsession? Fascination? Insanity? Jake didn’t know.

“I knew it was a crush,” a voice whispered into Jake’s ear.

Jolting out of his state, the brush around them rustled. Riki let out a laugh as he stumbled back. His fangs gleamed in the glow of the streetlights. His hair and clothes were just a smidge wet; the faint staining of raindrops on is broad shoulders as he giggled jovially at his blood-brother. He looked at him with a knowing, prideful look.

After all, Riki had won the game. He found Jake.  

“Wait – what?” Jake processed Riki’s words. “No, no, it's not a crush.”

It was something different. He didn’t have a word for it. Something animalistic. Uncontrollable. A pull in his gut. His heart?

Besides, the vampire flock didn’t do crushes. How was a mortal supposed to mingle with immortals? It was a fool’s errand. Jungwon had always warned against it.

“You’re literally stalking her, bro,” Riki commented, his laughter dying down as he took a few steps forward.

“I’m not! I’m just—” Jake reached out to stop the younger from going any further, not wanting her to spot them. “- curious.”

“Uh-huh.” Riki replied, unconvinced as he sidestepped Jake’s grasp. “Relax! She can’t see us.”

It’s only then Jake processed that the world had quieted, zapping away all sound (except for her heart beat, because, of course, it defied even their strange powers). Thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump, it kept him company as he glanced around.

Droplets of water sparkled, frozen still in the air like a million diamonds. The approaching bus down the street was stagnant as it froze through a puddle, a snapshot of a splash erupting from its wheels. He hadn’t been sucked into one of Riki’s time freezes in a long time. They hadn’t needed them, and Riki was often exhausted by them, no matter how good he got at his trick.

“Why are you even here?” Jake asked, confused and a flash of worry curdled through him. “Are you good? Around her?”

That annoyed Riki, his lips curling up into a sneer. He felt like he will never escape the title of baby, of wild, of ‘bloodthirsty.’ Even now, Jake was looking after him – when Riki was the one on the search for him! Jake was the one that was supposedly not good right now. Yet still… they asked if he was okay. It annoyed him.

Pushing past the bushes and bramble, Riki flashed Jake a smile, too mischievous to feel comfortable. Jake was quick to follow, getting thwapped by stray ferns Riki had just pushed aside.

“Wait—Riki,” Jake called out.

Prowling closer to her, Riki glanced over her features. Frozen perfectly in place, YN had been scrolling through her phone, glassy eyes unseeing in the time freeze. The younger vampire squatted to meet her eyeline. Hooded eyes examined her. The glow of the phone lit up her face in a blue glow. Pretty eyes, he thought.

“Cute,” Riki commented to Jake. A hand reached out to fiddle with her hair, watching it bounce back into its place as soon as he stopped touching it. He pushed it aside to glance at the column of her throat. “Pretty neck.”

Riki sent a look at Jake, his tongue flicking to touch one fang. Teasingly.

“Stop it,” Jake commanded, his brows furrowing as he walked closer.

Her heart hadn’t accelerated; the thu-thump melody steady as beating drum. But his anxiety rose. He didn’t like Riki so close. The way his fangs peeked out as he smiled up at her.

Riki hadn’t taken to vampirism with kindness. He’d tried to drain one of their own after all – he had drained countless humans throughout the years. Whether it was for control or lack of thereof, his violence peaked while with Heeseung. Alone in their little shabby apartment, he had become something akin to a nightmare. Humans dropped like flies in the city they terrorized; mystery animal attacks some said. Rumors of myths and legends bloomed. Jake didn’t think Riki ever really evolved past that. (Not like himself, of course. He had been good. He had never drained another human like the night of his turning. He refused. He had control. Riki didn’t.)

That control edged and tickled at the back of his brain as he saw Riki’s fingers stroke over her neck, tauntingly. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he glanced over his shoulder at the other. A curl of a smirk on his fangs. Jake let out a low chitter, the sound animalistic in his throat. A warning to the other to stop.

Riki’s gaze fell into crescent moons. His cheeks softening as he let out a laugh, his hand fell away and he stepped back. Rising to his full height, he let out a laugh.

“I’m kidding,” he stressed.

Jake didn’t find it funny. His eyes flickered back to her. Her heart thudded in his chest. He sighed.

“She is pretty, though. What’s up with you two if it’s not a crush?” Riki’s chin rose towards Jake in acknowledgement.

It wasn’t a crush, Jake insisted.

“We’re nothing,” Jake insisted. “She’s just weird. I—”

The vampire faltered looking over her once more. It was strange to see no breath tumble from her mouth and yet the growing-familiar heart beat remained. He swallowed.

“I can hear her heart. Loudly. I heard it from class; I heard it walking home; I heard it at home. No matter how far I go, it’s there. She’s there. Even now, it’s beating fast.”

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

She stared onwards at the potential danger in front of her. Jake huffed through his nose, glancing away from her innocent face.

Riki tilted his head at his blood-brother, almost puppy like. That was weird. His bloody-red eyes flashed to the human once more. She looked normal. He had seen plenty of pretty girls. Plenty of human girls that he bit into without a care in the world. They bled all the same. Their hearts teased and tempted. A constant fight in his soul. One that he oftentimes lost.

But now that he was staring at her – Riki felt something. Or really, he felt nothing. The rage that often shadowed him was absent, leaving him feeling breathless. His stomach wasn’t cramping; there wasn’t the constant itching in his veins to bite, bite, bite, drink, drink, drink. It was just… gone. Paused in the presence of this weird mortal.

His smolder, the heavied lidded look and taunting raise of his brows that often was tacked onto Riki’s face, dropped. A youthful look of surprise, of relief, and of confusion flickered over his face in a kaleidoscope. Parted pout, raised brows, and large eyes, he looked an image of the same little boy who had entered the orphanage and couldn’t say his own name without stuttering.

It felt so freeing to not be bounded by the Beast he realized. But also, dreadfully grounding because… he had committed so many beastly things. Drained so many humans without a second thought, all in the name of that hunger. A hunger gorged by the simple presence of this human girl.

Weird. Bad. Bad. Bad.

He didn’t know what was bad – the situation, the woman… or himself.

Riki took an uncertain step back. Throat tight, a horrible maelstrom of upset tumbled up his throat. Was he going to be sick? Everything felt overwhelming.

“Riki?” Jake asked, sensing the sudden combustion of something within the younger.

Was he going to pounce on the girl, his Heart? No. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. (If anyone was going to taste her blood, it’d be him – a Beast within Jake’s mind growled out).

His hand went to Riki’s shoulder, only for the younger to pull away with vigor. Stumbling back, his electrified eyes met Jake’s. Fright riddled his features as he felt himself fall away into a flurry of bats. His fingers holding their world in a pause unraveled with his composure. And the world rushed into a bloom of life.

The downpour resumed in a flood; the bus down the street honked to life as it slammed through a puddle. A wave of dirtied water splashed onto the pavement. Cars, electricity, the chitter of the light beside the bus-stop all joined the ever-present melody of their fast-beating heart.

Jake stumbled back from her, back hitting the bus stop’s support with a metal thunk.

YN’s head snapped to the side as she let out a small yelp. Wide eyes met his. Her body curled into herself as she jumped, startled.

“Woah, when did you get here?” she exclaimed.

He was like a ghost! She hadn’t heard anyone approaching; it was scary to know she could be snuck up on so suddenly. Her heart had jittered even faster. Jake fell into its warmth – his cheeks hot, his neck hot around her.

“Just now,” he lied, flashing a charming smile as his hand rose to rub that back of his neck.

He hadn’t planned on this – he wasn’t going to approach her. He just had wanted to see her, examine her. What was special about her? Something had to be if even Riki ran away from her.

Jake stepped out of the rain and under the cover of the bus stop, damp from the rain now.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he bumbled out, his tone gentle and kind. The lamp-glow made his skin golden and warm. The raindrops clinging to his skin looked like sparkling gems.

Taking in his soft features, she nodded slowly. “Its fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ve got to pay more attention,” she instead lamented, trying to ease him.

His – or was it hers – heart bloomed, fluttering at a butterfly’s wings pace.

Swallowing down his burning throat, he smiled.

“Jake, right?” she clarified.

As if she’d forget him. The pretty boy who had helped give her notes but also ran out like she was some plague.

“Yeah, yeah.”

As if he’d forget her. The bite of her name in between his jaw was so tasty.

Their hearts beat in tandem, and he couldn’t help but breath out in wonder. With a wet splash, the bus pulled up to the bus stop.

“Oh, this is my bus; is it yours?” she asked, nudging her thumb towards it.

Jake could get lost in her heartbeat- the tantalizing newness of it, the melody that was siren-like and yet soothing in his veins.

“Uh, huh,” he replied, blood-struck staring at her. He blink, blink, blinked. “Yeah.”

No, it wasn’t. But he couldn’t help but accept, couldn’t help but want to be around her. Like the seas being controlled by the moon, she was a magnetic force. It was something so new, so strange. So addictive.

YN fiddled with the strap of her bag as she stood. He didn’t move to go ahead of her and, so, she walked ahead, climbing the steps of the bus with familiarity. A cool rush of air-conditioned air kissed her skin and made him shiver. He actually shivered! When was the last time he felt cold? She swiped her bus pass; he paid the few dollars with a flash of his (read: Jungwon’s) credit card.

The bus was full - a blurred symphony of heart beats. All supporting the main melody of his Heart; her Heart. He didn’t even care for them; she was the focus. There were only two spots left, tucked into the back of the bus. YN took her spot, closest to the rain dropped window. The warmth of the engine radiated through the seat and made her feel safe and cozy.

Jake paused in the middle of the walkway as he looked side to side. There weren’t any other spots. Was it okay if he joined her? Was it creepy or stalking like Riki had said? Before he could contemplate his morals or if he was too much of this or that, she patted the seat beside her.

YN’s gaze locked with his, with blushed cheeks that he wanted to bite, kiss, soothe, feel. Jake swallowed but his feet moved on demand, tugged by the invisible string on his slow-beating heart. He settled in beside her. Hot. Cold. There was the clash, crawling over his skin and into his cells. He took a small breath in, hoping it didn’t sound too shuddering as it felt. His lungs burned, but he wanted more His hands rubbed over his jeaned knees before one hand combed through his lightly-damp locks.

The bus shivered and jolted as it began its route once more. Well, now he was stuck on a bus. All he had wanted to do was see her. He glanced her way, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Everyone else on the bus were on their phones. Should he be? Her hand still held her phone, limp in her lap as she looked out the foggy window.

He felt out-of-place. Like a fish out of water. Like a bat in daylight.  

“What’s your major?” She asked after a while, glancing his way.

 Her smile was sweet and dull.

“Lit,” he replied with a grin of his own. His smile was sharp and sincere. “You?”

“Still figuring it out,” she admitted, stretching her limbs and glancing away in thought. “Thinking about nursing, maybe.”

There was a soft huff in her tone as she looked his way once more. “Mom was a nurse. Dad was a doctor. His dad was a doctor. And his dad was a doctor. And her mom was nurse. Blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes lightly. “It’s been pushed on me since I could walk.” She laughed.

It mingled with her heartbeat so beautifully, he thought. He chuckled out, echoing her soft laughter.

“What do you want to do with lit? Write? Or teach?”

He didn’t know. Jake couldn’t focus. Or was it the heat in his cheeks that made his head feel lopsided? His stomach clenched, but it wasn’t from hunger. His heart raced and raced. Everything felt more, more than it already did. He used to be able to see the world in microscopic sense, but now it all seemed hazy, haloing her. He could just see her, high definition.

She was looking at him, not too worrisome thankfully. He felt like he looked crazy but, in her eyes, he was just bumbling, shy, sweet. His hands rubbed his knees gently, nervous. Long fingers fiddling over the fabric clumsily. It was cute.

“Not sure yet,” he admitted, soft voiced. “I just liked reading.”

He swallowed. She swallowed. He could see the pulse of her heart in her throat. The Beast itched under his skin. Just a taste, just a little bit. No.

He glanced away.

“I-Are you from around here?” he asked.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “I’m from Riverfield. In the country. I have an apartment in the city while I’m in school. What about you?”

Jake nodded, focusing on her words. “I share a home with some friends.” The fib has rolled off his tongue before; it was second-nature. “Over on the west end of the city.”

“That’s, uh, in the completely opposite direction,” she noted. This bus was going towards the east, deeper into the city’s depths.

Her uncertainty tinkled out; her finger fiddled with the side of her phone.

“I’m visiting a friend,” he made up.

“Oh.”

Before another silence could crash over them, Jake added. “My friend is a nursing major. He’s in the same class as us.”

“Oh, cool,” she replied with a smile. “Maybe I’ll see if he likes the program next class.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

The lull that followed felt like forever. Jake felt like a live-wire. His body buzzed. His heart raced. Her closeness only made him feel hotter and hotter. The bus lights flickered. His eyes flashed to them; the fluorescents burning brighter at his gaze. His breath shuddered. Was that because of him? He needed to control himself. Why did he feel so different? Alive? It was scary. Jake’s teeth nibbled into his cheek; the lights shuddered.

The bus braked harshly, suddenly. His arm immediately reached out across her, protecting her as they jerked forward. Her body slammed into his long arm, and he kept her steady. He swore his heart skyrocketed. Dilated eyes met hers. Her own eyes looked startled as she let go of his arm. When had she grasped onto him? Did she feel this pull too? He let out a soft breath.

“Thanks,” YN replied as she leaned back into her chair; the bus had moved normally, driving through the streets once more.

“No problem,” he breathed. He finally lowered his arm.

His ears felt burning. Jake scratched at the back of his neck. He probably seemed so strange… He had to not be so weird. How? How?

“Did you decipher my notes?” he wondered.

Blush. She blushed. Blush, blush, blush. Her cheeks hot and red and bite-able like a red apple. He felt his throat burn but he only fell more into his racing heart as she smiled. Her smile was so pretty.

“Not all of them,” she admitted with a chuckle.

“Let me help.” He offered. “We’re both here.”

She adjusted her phone, raising it, and swiping through it with ease. “I guess.”

He scooted closer, his cologne flooding her senses. There was a hint of rainwater in his hair that dripped onto her; it felt like it sizzled on her bare skin. Jake pointed at words here and there, helping breakdown his writing.

“You’d think with having doctors as parents I’d be able to decipher any sort of handwriting,” she joked.

“Nah; mine looks ancient,” he replied cooly. “I don’t blame you. It’s my fault. Here – that says ‘would be promising’.” He sounded a bit uncertain, but his gaze flickered back to her with a wide-eyed innocence. He was sweet. Helpful. Even if he felt like he was burning up inside, she felt the same thing. Her arms tingled. Her heart thudded fast.

The rest of the bus drive was spent huddled closer. Their arms brushed against one another; their breaths shared as they slide through picture after picture, analyzing their notes together. The bus rolled to a stop, and she glanced up.

“This is my stop,” she announced, gathering her bag from the ground.

Standing, she goes to slide her phone into her pocket before pausing. “Can we exchange numbers?” she asked, looking down at him.

His heart was pounding. Or was it her heart? He couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t help but feel the buzz; the hum of excitement. That’s what this was. He wanted to keep talking. Learning more about this strange woman. Why did her heart sing for him? Why did it feel like it was their heart? He wanted to know why she was so special?

“Just in case I need more deciphering expertise,” she teased, her hand outstretched her phone his way and he took it carefully.

Rain poured harder as he typed his name and number into her contacts. There was a grumble from the bus driver, impatient, but, at this point in the night, there were few passengers on board. The bus was coming to its last few stops. The rain thudded against the metal roof of the bus in a downpour, fogging the view of the apartment complex.

Jake nudged her with his umbrella, getting her attention once more. He looked up at her with such a kind smile, his cheeks sweet and soft despite the sharpness of his lips and teeth. Her phone was outstretched her way, as well as the handle to an umbrella.

“Here. And take my umbrella,” he encouraged.

“Seriously?” she exclaimed, taking her phone back. His name ‘Jake’ stared back simply… she was going to add an emoji later (maybe a beating heart since her heart seemed to act up around him.) Her heart was pounding even now. All he was doing was being sweet, and yet she felt like she was going to pass out.

“Its pouring, YN,” he glanced out the nearby window. “Please.”

He nudged the umbrella her way again. Their fingers brushed, and electricity flared between them. Skin-to-skin contact, it made his cells burn bright and vibrant. So bright that the bus’s lights went out in a pop. Startling the passengers, even Jake jumped in his spot.

“Goddammit,” the bus driver cursed out.

The pair had jumped apart. YN was a few steps back; Jake was pressed deep into his seat, hand pressed to his chest. It tingled still.

“This bus is like a danger-zone,” YN joked, glancing upward at the sizzling lights. “Thank you. For the umbrella… I’ll give it back in class?”

He let out a laugh, airy and disbelieving.

“Yeah. No worries really. Yeah.” He sounded flustered.

“Yeah,” she smiled as she continued walking backwards. “Be safe.”

She waved lightly as she exited the bus. A soft goodnight on her tongue to the befuddled bus driver before she walked through the downpour. His umbrella shielding her from the rain as she rushed towards the complex.

He watched all along. The lights of the bus flickered on again, slowly at the rhythm of their heart beat.

She was something special.

Once her apartment door closed behind her, YN screeched.

Her hands going to hide her face. He is so cute! Her heart was about to explode. Jake had been drooled over by all the girls at school. He looked like a model, acting aloof, was probably rich. But here… oh he was just a kind guy. He was sweet and helpful. He lent her his umbrella. She squealed again.

Sighing out dream-struck, she walked through her apartment, shedding her jacket and tossing it on the nearby couch. Dinner first – maybe a shower to warm her up. But, she was so warm now, her body buzzing with butterflies. She couldn’t help but dance about as she prepared a simple dinner of left overs, making sure to pour out her pills out onto a napkin, so she wouldn’t forget to take them… again.

-

Jake had escaped the bus finally at the next stop, wriggling past the last few passengers before walking through an unfamiliar cityscape before finding the forest’s edge. It was then he disappeared into the skies in a flurry of bats.

He whooshed into human form at the front door of their home. Riki leaned up against the doorway. He looked disheveled.

“Where did you go?” Jake exclaimed. “You totally ditched me.”

Riki’s face turned red as he glanced aside. “You were the one that wanted to see her so badly. So, you got to.” His retort was childish, defensive as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I scared her,” Jake retorted.

“You were stalking her,” Riki said blankly.

“We were,” Jake argued. That wasn’t any better. He shook his head lightly, damp hair flicking water onto the younger. Riki flinched and made a fuss. “You were the one to get so close.” Jake said simply.

Riki tried to shrug nonchalantly as he turned on his heel to unlock the front door and walk inside.

“You got to talk to her, didn’t you? Do you have her number now?” Riki teased.

Their brotherly back and forth was cut short at the sight of the flock all gathered in the nearby living room. Including Jungwon.

“Where have you two been?” Jungwon bit out. His brow furrowed; a mimicry of a father scorned.

“Hey dad,” Riki teased, raising his brows at him before plopping down on the couch besides Sunoo. The pair shared a look. Riki curled his legs into his chest, arms going to lock around them.  

“I’ve been texting you, calling you; I was close to emailing you,” Jungwon continued, emphasizing each option. His own fangs were flashing in the bright lights of the mansion as he crossed his arms. “Where were you?”

“No where,” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he walked further into the room. All eyes rested on him, looking him up and down.

“Jake,” Heeseung was the one to speak up, raising a brow from his spot beside Sunghoon. His tone was warning.

“She’s fine. I’m fine. Niki is fine,” Jake gestured to their youngest who flashed a peace sign. Jay looked over Riki carefully, tilting his head at what he felt.

“Everything’s fine,” Jake finished.

Jungwon sent a disapproving look at the other. This was a definite scolding and Jake’s high from being around her dulled. He sat down on the opposite side of Sunoo who squeezed his knee reassuringly.

None of them liked being scolded – it reminded them of the nurses and doctors and orphanages.

“You know what happened last time one of us had a control problem,” Jungwon lamented.

It sent a heaviness over the flock. They all looked aside. Sunoo frowned and hid into his arms. He wished he had his teddy bear in this moment.

Jungwon didn’t understand Jake. Jake out of everyone should know this. He had sworn to never hurt someone again after his change. Why was he playing with fire? Running around, chasing, stalking a human!

Jake played with a frayed edge on his jeans.

“Yeah, look at Sunoo. He’s had more problems than any of us with humans, but you’d be happy if he was out and about.” Jake muttered out dejectedly.

His words weren’t sharp but they still stung. Both Sunoo and Jungwon. Sunoo’s grimace grew.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Jungwon argued.

Sunoo’s face screwed into a displeased scowl, curling more into Riki as they spoke of his shortcomings. He had been in a good mood, and it was quickly fizzling out. He wanted to go up to his room. He was tempted to just fly there.

“I’d be careful. We know these things are delicate.” Jungwon argued.

“Jay too.” Jake pointed out, frowning and gesturing at the vampire. “He hates humans, but you encourage him to try to take classes to get used to them! What’s so different about me going to see her?” Jake argued with upturn brows.

Why was he being targeted? He’d been good. So, what if he messed up and set some lights up in a blaze earlier? He was fine with her. He sat next to her for over thirty minutes, and he didn’t bite her. He had control. He had control. Nothing went wrong!

“You purposely went after her,” Jungwon stressed. “Without telling us.”

“He told me,” Sunghoon mumbled, raising his knee to his chest casually. Heeseung slapped his arm. The glasses-wearing vampire shrugged

“What is so interesting about her, Jake?” Jungwon sighed out, sitting down on the couch with a huff.

“She’s just… different,” Jake mumbled. Riki nodded nearby.

“I’m not going to hurt her. I swear it. I just… am intrigued by her.” Jake promised.

There was a disbelieving lull in the room, but Jungwon sighed out, head tilting back and with reluctance the argument was over. Mostly at the exhaustion of fighting with them. He didn’t want to fight. His shoulders sagged.

“Fine.” He mumbled.

Jake nodded firmly, devoutly. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not his Heart.

His phone buzzed.

‘Hey Jake! It’s YN.’

His grin was blinding, and it caught the attention of every single vampire in the room.

 -

It was the next class, and Jake was excited. His stomach was in butterflies; his heart thumping eagerly. Maybe it was her heart too. Their Heart, he had begun to think. The week had been a long one – one full of strange observations. His heart was more active than ever. It was no longer slow and steady but a constantly changing beating thing. It lit his cells alight and he felt more alive than ever.

His heart acted up more when he texted her. They spoke of his notes at first. Then the class itself but then they had already jumped to good morning and good night texts. He knew she was watching a new drama. She knew he liked hip-hop and he had made a Spotify playlist for the pair of them to add new songs for one another. It was nice. It was more than nice. Jake loved having a new friend for the first time in literally decades.

He had texted her that he was on the way to the lecture hall and to save him a seat – something he added after his stomach roiled in nerves for over five minutes.

As he opened the doors to the lecture hall, he was shellshocked to see Jungwon and Heeseung already there. And sandwiched in between them was YN. Jake flushed red, his skin turning a pleasant tawny pink. Was it embarrassment or anger or jealousy? He couldn’t tell. He felt overwhelmed and hot at the sight of YN giggling at Jungwon’s words. The flock leader smiled at her, sweet cheeks pillowing in bashfulness.  

‘Why are they here!?’ Jake whined internally.

‘Jealous much?’ Heeseung raised his brows, teasingly, as he communicated telepathically with Jake.

Jake glared at the other before his eyes softened as he glanced over at YN. Her hair was so pretty, haloed in the setting sun. Everything was a pretty orange-bright in the lecture hall; the windows in the back painting the room in a sunset glow. Licking his lips and swallowing down the dryness of hunger-thirst and anxiety (both only making the scratchiness of his throat worse).

“Hey Jake,” she beamed over as he began to climb the stairs to the trio. Her desk-table had been tugged out already and her notebook splayed open.

“Hi,” he greeted, still far from their seats. “You’ve met Jungwon and Heeseung I see.” He smiled, albeit a bit forced.

Jungwon was leaned in close to YN, his elbow on the armrest closest to her. He flashed Jake a smile full of fangs. If Jake wouldn’t tell him what was so different about the human, he was determined to find out himself. That’s what Jungwon did best – investigate. Investigate and protect. He’d do anything to know things in advance so that he and his blood-brothers would never be caught off guard again. They’d never be hurt like that again.

And so, he investigated. Looked her up on social media, searched her name in search engines. And it all came back normal. A good student, a few parties on her Instagram, photos of aesthetically pleasing country sides and forests. A small town almost country girl turned big city college student.

She was debating about a nursing major. That was something she told him as she sat down, asking who was the nurse. He liked her boldness and he told her what he thought honestly. He mentioned the long hours of interning. She was empathetic, kind at his struggles. Her hand had squeezed his as if it’d comfort him and he swore there was an electric shock.

But other than that… she was normal.

‘What are you doing?’ Jake exclaimed at Heeseung.

‘Getting to know your hyperfixation,’ Heeseung argued back.

‘But-‘ there was a pettiness and possessiveness. ‘She’s mine! My Heart.’

‘You texted her nonstop, you giggle at every message – what’s so interesting? We wanted to know.’

‘Ive only known her for a week, hyung! Don’t scare her away.’

‘We aren’t! Theyre talking about nursing and doctor stuff.’

“Heeseung?”

Heeseung blinked, sound coming back into focus as her call. He had been so focused on their conversation, a telepathic effort that he hadnt heard her call his name twice. He looked to her. Her smile was sweet as she repeated the question.

“What’s your major?” she asked. “Sorry for not asking earlier. Jake had hyped up Jungwon’s major.”

“You’re okay,” he reassured her with a charming grin. “I’m a music major.”

“Oh wow!” she exclaimed. “That’s so cool. What’s, like, your thing? Is it more traditional music or-?” she trailed off, giving him the floor to talk.

“I started off with the piano,” he said. “We all did,” he admitted, glancing at Jake and Jungwon. “I like songwriting the most compared to instrumentals.”

He preened at her reaction, hearing how she awed and flustered at the thought of a poetic man. He smiled. There was a passing thought, did they grow up together?

Her gaze flickered to Jake as he plopped his bag down and sat down next to Heeseung. His bag hit the motorcycle visor besides Heeseung’s foot.

“What motorcycle do you have?” she asked.

“You want a ride?” he teased, staring her down. Charming, flirtatiously.  

Her cheeks flushed, and he grinned. He heard Jungwon’s playful disagreement, an internal roll of his eyes. Jake’s outraged ‘What?’ But Heeseung realized… he hadn’t heard her thoughts. He swallowed. Leaning closer, he stared at her with his entrancing eyes. She giggled a bit and shifted her gaze away.

Nothing… still.

“I was just curious. Jake took the bus the other day – do you all ride motorcycles?” she asked instead, looking over at Jungwon. 

Heeseung chuckled, a bit distressed as he looked over at Jake. A flash of insecurity twinkled in his eyes.

‘What’s up?’ Jake asked silently.

‘I can’t hear her thoughts.’ His telepathic freak out made Jake’s brows crinkle in confusion.

“Only Heeseung is the daredevil.” Jungwon replied.

There was a polite hum from the very man mentioned before YN’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Jake, before I forget, I have your umbrella!” she exclaimed, reaching into her bag.

As she ducked her head, Jake and Jungwon mouthed words at each other quickly. Mostly in surprise, wondering what was wrong with Heeseung. He seemed so out of it. Starstruck. When her head popped back up and her hand held a transparent umbrella, they both smiled at her, close lipped.

“That’s my umbrella,” Jungwon commented, raising a brow at Jake. “I was looking for it a few days ago and you said you didn’t know where it—"

“Whoops,” Jake charmed as he took hold of the outstretched umbrella.

“Well, thank you again – and to you too, Jungwon,” she acquiesced, glancing at him with a gentle gratefulness.

He felt a whirl in his stomach, and he couldn’t help the bright almost youthful grin from tumbling to his lips.

“Its no problem,” he replied.

‘Whipped.’ Heeseung teased even in his distress.

‘Do you want to ride?’ Jungwon teased back, his gaze hardening as he looked over at Heeseung. Heeseung raised his brows, biting his lip with a fang before looking back at his phone. Trying to process the strangeness in his head. He tried hearing her thoughts now, focusing on her. But it felt like the more he focused on her, the more distant her thought became. It was something he had never experienced before.

More students were tumbling in now, making the room louder and louder. Both with their thoughts and their conversations. Their own conversation steered towards the class, their workloads, even the weather. Normal and easy things. Every now and then, Jake would ask about something they texted like if she liked this song or that song. Heeseung continued to try to hear her thoughts, staring her down when she wasn’t looking. YN could feel his gaze still, a constant light blush on her cheeks at the attention. Jungwon observed her as well.

He observed and investigated. Looking over her phone when it buzzed, showing her texts between her and her friends. She was going to a party this weekend it looked like. A reminder to go get groceries today was set. A reoccurring alarm that read ‘take medicine (don’t turn off and think you’ll remember go take them now)’ had a pop up from earlier in the day in her notifications.

While she was cute and polite, he still didn’t quite get it. She wasn’t other-earthly. Yes, his heart seemed to thud faster around her. Which hadn’t happened before. And sure, the world slowed and seemed calm and not as overwhelming. Okay, it was strange. She was strange. But still, utterly normal.

After the class and after they packed up their bags, she said goodbye to Jungwon and Heeseung easily with a little wave, standing close to Jake. The soft fluffy haired vampire adjusted his backpack as he waited patiently for her. Jungwon noticed that. He seemed calmer now – not unhinged like last week. Maybe she was okay with him, he pondered. His head tilted as he looked at Jake.

“You’re not coming with us?”

Jake shook his head, swallowing albeit a bit nervously. “We’re going to go study.” He said.

“There’s a new coffee-shop down the street,” YN told them. “Jake saw it and said we should go there.”

‘You like her.’ Heeseung stated simply, telepathically.

Jake’s cheek burned a pretty-red, and that was his answer.

“See you later then,” Heeseung leewayed for Jungwon who despite his best efforts still clung to his worry.

There was always a hint of guilt, a hint of worry for his friends. Even now, after a hundred years. He just wanted them safe. Heeseung knew that.

Heeseung also wanted all of them to be happy. And he knew Jungwon wanted that too, deep down.

With an arm thrown around Jungwon’s shoulder, the two were off, heading up the stairs of the lecture hall to the upper exits.

“Your friends are really nice,” they heard YN say to Jake softly. “They saw me sitting by myself and joined me.”

“They didn’t bug you?” Jake asked gently.

“No way. Jungwon told me all about his nursing job and the program here. He was really helpful. He offered to give me a tour if I wanted it. Heeseung was nice too. He’s funny.”

Jungwon and Heeseung preened, hearing her even as they continued to walk further and further away.

“They’re like my brothers,” Jake chuckled. “I know they can come off strong, but they mean well.”

“They were nice. Now, come on. I owe you a coffee, right? For the umbrella last week?” she teased. Her hand tugged at his sleeve, daringly.

Jake’s low chuckle sent butterflies up her spine.

“No way,” he replied walking to catch up with her. His fingers brushed over hers but he didn’t grab her hand… yet. “I’ll buy for us. My treat.”

By then, it was harder to hear the couple. Heeseung and Jungwon were walking side by side on the street, far from the university now. It was only then they spoke.

“I get it,” Jungwon said simply. Admittingly.

“Me too,” Heeseung agreed. “I couldn’t hear her thoughts, Jungwon.”

The pair shared a look.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” Jungwon promised before they flurried into a flock of bats right as a car passed the duo.  

[bgyuus]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡° we can't be friends

he was important to you

this isn't accurately based of his lore (his story will be dropping in 2.1) nor even based of the 2.0 storyline BUT ariana grande's new song and album had me on a chokehold sm i just had to write it about aventurine, although i can see this song fitting perfectly with sae itoshi from blue lock too :> (not proofread btw)

"kakavasha!"

you smiled, running up to him with a small piece of bread in your fingers. having to live under poverty because of the 'bad guys' that were attacking your hometown was becoming even harder to find food yet alone shelter.

the boy with with blonde hair and purple eyes- that you swore you could look into them everyday and never got bored, turned to you with a wide smile on his face. "this is great! we finally have something to eat!"

the both of you shared the bread together under a rundown hut somewhere on the outskirts of sigonia-IV, looking over their homes.

the boy handed out a small bracelet, clipping it around her hand as he bashfully rubs the back of his head. "It's not much but.. at least this'll remind you of me."

"kakavasha.." she whispers softly, looking at him with tears in her eyes. the boy's face instantly turned pale as he nods to let you continue.

"promise me you'll stay with me, even if we get to leave this place, i want us to stay together. promise?"

the boy nods at your words, making a pinkie swear to seal their promise. little that you know that such promises were never bound to be true anyway.

time skips to current penacony

"y/n! check out the view!"

march 7th said as they all step down the express, looking over the reverie. the receptionist greeted them with a warm smile while himeko dealt with the room reservations.

"having problems with checking in?"

a voice that sounded so smug made them all turned their heads, facing a blonde man wearing a exclusive suit that was surely expensive.

"i beg your pardon, mr..?" welt asks, stepping in front of the girls. for some reason, you kept staring at the blonde man. something about him was giving off familiarity. "those eyes-"

"you like my eyes? why thank you, friend."

the blonde said in tone which definitely made you feel like slapping him. he sounded so cocky yet you can't help but feel like you know him from somewhere.

"kakavasha..?" you quietly spoke, making the blonde glaring daggers towards you. "Y-you're.. you're alive?" your hand reaches out to touch his cheek but the blonde stepped back. "the name's aventurine. i have no idea who you're talking about." he snapped, crossing his arms.

dismissing you, he went over to welt and himeko to discuss about the room reservations, leaving you, march and stelle alone. "you know the guy?" stelle asked with a disgusted look on her face. "yeah y/n, he was rude to you," march added. you brought out the bracelet that was wrapped around your wrist nearly as you walked up to the blonde who's name was aventurine.

"mr aventurine, sorry to disturb you but do you remember this?"

you showed him the bracelet, in hopes that this was the kakavasha she once cherished. aventurine flinches when his eyes lays on the bracelet but he shook his head a no. "no idea where you got that piece of art from," he replied bluntly. "you're from sigonia-IV! your eyes explains it! i'm y/n, one of the remaining sigonia-IV survivors-"

"i don't know you."

this made you stop dead as you blinked at him. "w-what do you-" "you heard me."

you lowered your head in shame as the commotion was already attracting other hotel guests in the lobby. stelle quickly steps in front of you as march tries to console you as the tears went down your cheeks unnoticeable.

"fine, we'll have it your way then." himeko glares at him, sealing their deal about the room reservations as aventurine lets out a chuckle. "spot on, astral express friends. enjoy your stay." and with that he walked passed you, sending you an annoyed look before walking away amongst the crowd.

"y/n..." himeko pats your back as she felt bad for what has happened between your interaction with aventurine. you only shake you head in response, giving the express crew a small smile, in hopes for them to ignore the fact that the boy you once loved was now a completely different person.

[owl-bones]

Hey, I got a question for ya.Who THA HECK ARE EOS AND HELIOS?! I tried to found their story but I didn’t managed to find it…And since you’re their creator…could you explain ??? 👁️👄👁️

Thanks for your time (if you founded the time to read this) and (in any cases) have a good day ✌︎('ω')✌︎

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

backstory/lore/personalities below the cut! it's. longgggg. VERY long. slkdfjlsdk like over 3k words

Backstory (personalities at the bottom)

Nim was a goddess of emotions, tasked with protecting the worlds made by creators throughout the multiverse. Eventually she yearned to create something of her own, but couldn't make something out of nothing-- so she used herself. She made two beings to keep each other company when she was gone, and used what remained of herself to become a tree to give them shelter.

The beings she made were too young and weak to harness her power in its entirety, so she sealed her power away in the fruits of the tree she became so they could grow into her strength slowly.

The beings were Dream and Nightmare, two halves of her whole.

It continues similarly to Dreamtale-- overtime the tree flourishes and the skeletons slowly grow up together. A village is built nearby and, over decades, becomes a busy town. The child guardians are mostly left alone as the people don't understand them and they keep to themselves, but there are many rumors and myths that develop about the tree they guard. One such rumor is that the tree is the reason the town develops so successfully and quickly. Over generations the guardians are a constant, never aging (truthfully just very slowly) and the mythos surrounding them slowly begins to warp.

People get used to their presence and seek them out more often, and as the details about their guardianship and abilities begins to spread more and more rumors develop.

Dream is outgoing and cheery. He's personable and warm and easy to get along with. The townspeople quickly adopt him like a stray cat, and he's given gifts when he visits and treated kindly. He's called things like "little guardian" and "angel" and the like. He soaks up this attention and praise like a plant hungry for the sun's light and, over time, visits more and more often.

Nightmare is more wary and shy, but strikingly intelligent. He's incredibly protective of the tree of emotions, and rarely leaves. It's more than a magic tree; it's their home and history. A hidden library, the sum of all of Nim's knowledge and life experiences, rests within the tree's broad hollow trunk. There's room enough for dozens, if not hundreds of books, and a place for the twins to sleep and hide away. He's dedicated his life to knowing as much as he can about their long-silent mother and their duties as guardians and is very protective of the knowledge. This makes him more enigmatic to the townsfolk, and people are known to be afraid of the unknown. He's quickly dismissed as the ruder sibling, and shunned. Not that he minds.

Dream isn't as concerned with their history-- he's far more interested in the present and future. He's found himself enamored with the town and how it develops; how he's watched children age and have families of their own, how more buildings are built to spread the town further and further. He knows everyone and everyone knows him.

They are young teens at this point. A couple hundred years old but still maturing and growing. As they've aged the tree has lost fruit; the apples drop to the ground and disappear when they're picked up as the twins absorb them to age into their powers.

But prosperity doesn't last forever, and the tree held no real power over the town's success. Soon the town finds itself in trouble-- a drought, an oncoming war, it's not important. What's important is they cling to their superstitions and fears and try to find a scapegoat. Nightmare is that scapegoat, keeping their salvation from them. They haven't been taking proper care of the tree, that's why there's fewer fruit. It's their fault.

If the town can get to the apples the twins protect, maybe they can use them to help themselves. Maybe they can plant more magic trees to increase their prosperity, or their warriors can eat them and gain their strength. They don't know anything about the tree's true nature and don't care to listen to either Dream or Nightmare when they ask for the guardians' boons.

The townspeople aren't dissuaded, and instead turn to manipulation. If Dream and Nightmare won't give them their blessing, they will simply have to take what they need. The guardians are children, anyway. What do they know about the world and politics of adults?

They know they can't get Nightmare away from the tree, but they can at least lure Dream away. He's offered tea and treats by a trusted villager, unaware it contains a sedative. He falls asleep and they go to work-- dozens of villagers go to the tree and start picking the golden apples. They ignore the black apples, not interested in something appearing 'tainted'. Nightmare tries to stop them but things get violent and he's downed with a blow to his skull. He's still young, weak, inexperienced, and hopelessly outnumbered. He's pinned and forced to watch as his mother's body, his home, is defiled.

The townsfolk didn't count on Dream being resistant to the sedative, however. Despite the amount of sleep-inducing herbs he consumed he's awake within a few minutes. He's groggy and aware something is wrong, but he's up.

Concerned and distraught he's been poisoned by someone he trusted, he returns home to find his brother injured and restrained and the tree devoid of golden apples.

The townspeople have decided to cut down the tree without removing the black apples, thinking that will remove the problematic negativity and they can replant the golden ones to only have positive trees. They're already partway through the trunk, and that's what spurs Dream into action.

They haven't noticed him yet and he starts picking up the apples to protect them-- but they disappear as soon as they're in his arms. They're his power by birthright, and absorbing them is what he's meant to do. It's only natural that his power would want to go where it belongs. At first it's warm and he feels stronger and more aware of what's going on, but the more apples he picks up the more his body aches and starts to burn.

His vessel was never meant to contain this much power this quickly, and as he desperately tries to save the apples it starts to break at the seems. His bones crack, the injuries filling with golden light holding him together, but he doesn't stop.

The townsfolk notice him, finally, and stop cutting at the tree to stop him. But it's too late. He's 'consumed' enough now that he's strong enough to keep them back with a magic barrier. He could stop now, talk them down from their frenzy, but... he doesn't want to. Despite the pain of his body breaking and barely keeping itself together, the power he now burns with is... good. His senses feel sharper, he's stronger, and he's brimming with energy. He keeps absorbing the apples.

His power overflows and can't be contained within him anymore, and golden light seeps out of his spine. The people always called him an 'angel', and this moment is where that myth solidifies itself. They aren't wings, not yet, but the amorphous magic light at his back is enough to make the villagers back away. This is the divine salvation they've been waiting for, right? An angel come down to lead them to safety?

But Dream isn't feeling like the happy-go-lucky child they knew him as. He's feeling an all consuming rage like he has never felt before. His emotions are much stronger than they've ever been, burning inside him. And not only that-- the vague impressions of people's emotions he could always feel are clear as day now. He can see exactly what the people are feeling.

Fear. Anxiety. Anger. And... hope.

That hope stands out to him. It doesn't sting like the other feelings steeped around the tree right now. It's warm and comforting and he wants more.

But first he needs to free his brother. Nightmare is falling unconscious and his vision is blurry, but he recognizes Dream. Dream does his best to heal him, a skill he's been practicing as his magic slowly got stronger. Now, though, his magic is much more powerful. It's raw and out of control and the positivity burns Nightmare with its force, scorching his armrs. Dream stops almost immediately, but the damage is done.

Nightmare was already weak, but now he's on the brink of dusting. The faint wisps of Nim left in the tree uses the very last bit of her magic to turn him to stone to help him recover.

Confronted by the loss of his brother, convinced it was his fault and his magic that did it, Dream shuts down. He goes fully into denial. Nightmare is just resting, he's fine, everything's fine. He can fix everything.

He needs to get rid of the townspeople. They're crowding him and his brother and they need to leave immediately. Shockingly, they obey. Dream is left alone with the statue of his brother.

It's not long before he gets a craving for more of that positivity he sensed. When he returns to the town, suspicious and still angry, he finds everything strikingly normal. Everyone is going about their business as if nothing had happened and he's greeted warmly (if a little nervously). There's more hope coming from everyone and it soothes the ache in his chest.

Dream overhears people whispering about him, calling him the angel again, and he starts putting the pieces together. The head of the town meets with him and suddenly he's not treated like a petulant child, but he's given information.

The town's issues are explained to him. The people are putting their hopes and dreams on his shoulders. There's expectations and they want things from him despite what they have done. And Dream finds himself answering the call, drunk on the power and feeling seen for the first time.

The people weren't acting maliciously, he tells himself. They were just misguided. They didn't know what they were doing, just like how they thought he didn't know what he was doing. He's the guardian of positivity. If they want prosperity and joy again, he can help them. He can guide them to what they want. They just have to stay away from the half-felled tree and do as he says.

As it turns out, the people are more than willing to stay far away from the negativity-steeped tree and follow his orders. They very quickly fall into line and worship him. He has no idea how to lead or manage a town, but nobody dares speak a word against him. Not that they need to. Despite the continuing issues they face, no townsperson can say that they're unhappy with Dream in charge. The opposite, in fact.

Since he came to be with them permanently everyone has found themselves filled with nothing but hope and happiness. They work tirelessly without complaint. Under his guidance the town expands even further over the decades until it's a fortified, bustling kingdom.

But Dream grows bored managing the mortals. He still ages slowly, and now an adult and having overseen a kingdom and its silly politics for generations, he wants more. He's grown properly into his powers and the magic at his back is now properly shaped like wings, like the 'angel' he is.

Nightmare used to speak of the other worlds the books within the tree would describe, and Dream for the first time in centuries seeks out his old home. He finds the books, worn but still intact, and learns of the multiverse and the balance.

It's then that he decides, like the expansion of the kingdom and his influence, to bring his light and positivity to other worlds.

It's another century or two after Dream leaves that Nightmare's petrification wears off. The apples have all fallen from the tree over the years, and he's slowly come into his powers himself. And yet he's still so... fatigued. Like something is sapping his strength no matter how much he rests.

The incident feels like it only happened moments ago for him, and yet he's alone. The library of his childhood is decrepit and the books are in poor condition and barely salvageable. His brother is gone, and when he goes looking for him... the town is a massive kingdom. White and gold and successful, flying golden banners and proclaiming Dream as their patron guardian.

But he's not there, either. Nightmare spends time in the kingdom working as a farmhand just trying to understand what exactly has happened and changed in the time he's been away. It's not easy finding information about his brother that's not glorified, and being an 'outsider' makes it even harder. The myth of the guardian of negativity has faded with time, his status as Dream's brother merely a footnote in the story, and for the first time in his life Nightmare is treated rather... normally by those around him.

It's a couple years later that Nightmare finally comes into his own and realizes the extent of Dream's control over both their original home, and the worlds he's visited since. He remembers reading about the careful balance he and Dream were meant to preserve... but he can tell that something isn't right. Somewhere along the way, growing up alone and worshipped and corrupted by the positivity he was meant to guard, Dream has lost himself. He's 'fixing' every AU he can, making them positive and trying to drive the balance as far in his favor as possible.

Nightmare leaves his home, alone and unsure of himself, and quickly finds himself lost in a sea of worlds that hate him. Due to his efforts to right the balance, he is painted a villain. He's used to it, and yet it still hurts. The hope that it was just that village that hated him quickly turns into the realization he is doomed to be hated wherever he goes, no matter how correct his actions.

The first time he runs into Dream, it seems like everything is going to be okay. They're together again, nothing bad can happen to them now that they're both powerful. But Dream's aura is draining to Nightmare, and their goals are too far apart. Dream's joy at the realization his brother isn't dead quickly turns to petulance when Nightmare insists he stops disrupting the balance and returns the AUs he's altered to their proper states.

They argue, and despite how much it hurts they go their separate ways. Nightmare continues to try and fix things, coming into conflict with Dream every so often, but he's outnumbered again. Dream has hundreds of people in his employ, sent out to AUs constantly to help put them on track to be positive. Nightmare is alone and weakened. Despite working tirelessly, there is nothing he can do to fix things. The balance shifts ever further, and Nightmare grows weaker.

It's years into their conflict that Dream hurts his brother again. He's used to them being on relatively even footing. He holds back against his disadvantaged brother, and Nightmare escapes before things get too bad. It's a song and dance they've done countless times at this point. But eventually, the time comes that Nightmare doesn't dodge in time. An arrow pierces his chest.

He's alive, the wound not enough to outright kill him, but he's comatose. Dream takes him back to his home, an opulent palace in an empty AU he's transformed to his liking. Nightmare can't get hurt anymore like this. Dream can protect him, and when he wakes up he'll convince him to see things his way. Everything will be okay. He always fixes things.

(Nightmare does eventually wake up and more things happen, but i'll save the how and why for later ;) )

Dream / Helios

Hundreds of years old, massively powerful, and incredibly influential. Dream has (peacefully) conquered most major AUs and solved their conflicts. Beloved by all and he knows it, he's egotistical and used to getting what he wants. And if he doesn't get what he wants... he finds a way. He's entitled and arrogant but also completely assured in his power. He has no need to gloat, he's quite confident in his status and abilities. But that isn't to say he doesn't like praise; he lives for it.

He's generous and well-intentioned, but also fully capable of justifying the means to get his end. If an AU can't be fixed it's either cordoned off or allowed to be destroyed. He employs many many people from many AUs to do his bidding, including those from AUs that would be considered 'negative'. If there's only one person left in the AU, removing them and giving them a better life is the next best way to fix it.

He doesn't have friends, not really, but his close confidants are Blue and Strike. He collects injured mythological creatures from AUs and rehabilitates them at his palace. He considers himself a patron of the arts, and aside from hiring people to help spread positivity he also hires artisans to live in his palace and fill it with art of all kinds. Tailors, sculptors, painters, writers, singers/musicians, and more.

He has many hobbies he's picked up over the years, but enjoys singing the most. He can fly with his wings, and is strong enough to carry someone along with him. He can change their size and shape depending on need.

He's very self conscious about the golden cracks all over his body, considering it a symbol of his weakness when he was young. He wears full coverings at all times (except his skull), and would only show the cracks to someone he truly trusts and cares for.

He's very skilled with a bow and rapier, but prefers to leave the fighting to his guards. He's very clever with his words and can be a skilled manipulator, but is equally capable of lacing his words with magic and forcing people to follow his will. He's very in-tune with souls and can manipulate even the slightest bit of positivity he senses, and there's a few people around his castle that are effectively his puppets due to their disobedience.

Nightmare / Eos

Cynical and exhausted. He's a workaholic; he doesn't have time to rest, he has to live up to his responsibilities. He rested enough as a statue and he can't afford to stop for even a moment. He wants nothing more than to have everything go back to the way it was and be close with Dream again, but worries the passage of time and what happened when they were young has put an irreparable crack in their relationship. The Dream he fights now is nothing like the Dream he knew when they were young, and he struggles to grasp that disparity.

Dream however can't help but recognize that Nightmare has barely changed. He's still shy and a bookworm. He's vilified and despised by most around him despite his good intentions, and continues to stand up for what he believes in in spite of it. He knows he will never be the hero of the story, but fights anyway.

He's slow to make friends and even slower to fully trust someone. He yearns to be understood and treated like a full person and not as a scapegoat for fears and misunderstandings. He's fighting to right the balance as is his responsibility, but all he really wants is to settle down and rest. He gets easily attached to people that make him feel safe and comforted.

He grew into his magic slowly as a statue, but is still adjusting to the changes even years later. When he's overwhelmed by negativity it can result in him leaking corruption from his sockets and mouth.

He's weakened from the balance being disrupted, but makes up for it with alternative magic he's learned from books. He has a passion for bookbinding and book restoration and has lovingly recreated and repaired what he could from the tree's library. He thinks it's very important to preserve Nim's history and live up to his responsibility as a guardian.

Not as skilled with a bow as his brother, but a decent swordsman with a sickle or scythe. He fights his own battles and eventually gains a team of close friends to support him.

[vallaragna]

Preface this that this is about Destiny 2, a video game, so none of this actually matters. Just hypothetical ravings of a fiber artist with a bit of knowledge about historical things. So like I keep having thoughts about textile production during the dark ages after the collapse. (Specifically at Felwinter's Peak, but hold that thought). We have such varied descriptions of what survived the collapse. People are depicted as wearing basic tunics and dresses that would not look out of place at an SCA event. Technology is primitive, except they still have guns that they up keep and have ammo for, Shaxx is described as sealing his keep with an artificial sealant. So things are so varied and random. Like did spinning wheels exist still? They obviously don't have access to industrial machines, but are they just spinning everything on drop spindles? (Making me question how much work it would take to keep all the freaking iron lords and wolves on that mountain clothed.) For that matter, do they still have acid dyes? Or are they relying on natural dyes? Dye materials used to be highly valued, you can't tell me warlords wouldn't be fighting over this stuff (which also brings up Spices being fought over likewise). I mean you could hand wave everything by saying "golden age technology", but that shouldn't be half an interesting. We do have the Strand lore book where Osiris talks about using a spindle when during the dark age they had to make everything from scratch, which supports that line of reasoning. So no spinning wheel, only spindles. Cloth production takes so much freaking time when doing everything from scratch. With a spinning wheel it takes me hours to produce a few hundred yards of a thicker yarn for knitting, I'm not incredibly experienced, but it takes so incredibly much more time on a spindle. And you need so much yarn to be able to weave cloth of any yardage. There's a reason women in paintings used to be depicted with spindles and distaffs so often. For that matter, what sorts of looms were they using? If they didn't have spinning wheels I'm guessing advanced looms are out as well. So rigid heddle looms? Warp weighed looms? The second would make more sense, but also takes so much time and you can only weave cloth so wide. It's limited by the arm span of the weaver. So narrow fabric, so even more yardage needs to be made. We're not even at the sewing stage yet. I discussed dyes earlier, but it would be important. Even in the actual medieval times clothes weren't all brown. Natural dyes tend to fade faster though. Black dyes were really hard to produce, and they fade fast. Then sewing would be by hand, I doubt there are sewing machines if they don't even have spinning wheels. Sewing by hand takes *forever* even if you are fast. There are tricks to making it go fast, but you're not producing an entire garment in a day, especially if you have anything else going on. For that matter you really care about mending in this environment. Also knitting and crochet? Technically those take longer to produce a garment than weaving and sewing. I know Zavala learned knitting from Safiya in the dark ages, so it did survive.

I think I'm at the end of my ramble, I'll add if I can think of anything else. I'd love to hear other people's opinions.

[fophelia1331-oldblog]

Aight, I'm kinda tired so I'm gonna wait to give the whole big lore drop, but here's some stuff about my Project Sekai unit swap AU.

All the cutouts are courtesy of @prosekaiuwu, aside from the VBS Miku, MMJ Miku, and Luka heads (which I cut out myself).

Groups:

COLLAGE

A performance squad that blends wildly different sounds together. The roots the respective members have in classical, idol pop, musical soundtracks, and street songs are all honored in their new sound.

Genre: Mixed

Faded Smiles

Many smiles and cheery sounds, though the lyrics they sing often have deeper meanings. Each member has loved and lost... you can hear it in their voices if you listen long enough.

Genre: Indie Pop

fragile

The lyrics are distorted, the melody is crisp yet echoing. The nostalgia for childhood from an observer far away. The sound of crystal and glass.

Some Notes:

Genre: Denpa

Heartbreak Re-Take

Lone souls put their hearts together in this band. Half rough around the edges, half polished to perfection. The songs call out, the music tells you that it will all be okay.

Genre: Shoegaze

Monochrome (K)Nights

There's a story to every tune, and a hundred more they could tell. Three members of different background and talents work together to immersive each passersby. Every day a new tale is woven.

Genre: Lyrical (with aspects of musical numbers and indie)

Serpent Intent

Mythology, folklore, and tradition are at the core of this group. They pay homage to what has brought them to this point in life with music that carries one through time itself. The wings of a butterfly... the words of a serpent.

Genre: New Wave

Haruka enrolled at Kamiyama instead of Miya Girls. She's in class 1C with Akito, and he ends up shooing some nosy classmates away from her a couple times.

RIP to the Wonder Stage, the source of the easiest backstory angst for Emu. Sorry hun. (In clearer words: the stage was demolished. I didn't do it because it was easy, but it is easy angst.)

Honami dropped out of Miya Girls early into the year, but was classmates with Emu for a short time. She's doing online courses now.

Honami also doesn't work as a caretaker at all, so definitely not for Kanade.

Kanade was going to visit her father in the hospital when she heard piano music from down the hall. She ended up in the ward Saki stayed in and saw Saki at the piano. Kanade listened for a bit, but Saki couldn't play for long because of her health. Kanade left, but she didn't forget the song Saki played.

Ichika couldn't always make it out to visit Saki at the hospital. Thus, she ended up giving some notes and gifts to Tsukasa so he could deliver them. The two had an excuse to spend some time together, which was equally appreciated. Ichika and Tsukasa were both kinda lonely, so it was nice to have someone around.

Ena ended up needing to go to extra lessons before her night classes, which Tsukasa also was a part of. Ena immediately would say Tsukasa was annoying, though she admired how bold and upfront he seemed to be.

Though Ena and Tsukasa weren't really friends, Tsukasa was one of the few students in their extra class who went out of his way to speak to everyone. He was one of the only people Ena had interacted with at school. When Ena got forced back into day classes and put into class 2A with Tsukasa, he immediately offered to help her get used to the new schedule. Ena's fate was sealed. She became friends with Tsukasa.

Shizuku can play violin. Look at her. Violin. Shizuku. Yes.

Mizurui friendship in middle school. Mizuan friendship in their first year of high school. Rui transfered to Kamiyama, falling back in with Mizuki, and now An. Mizuruian rooftop trio.

(M(K)N was the first group I came up with. I really liked the way An and Mizuki looked in the knight costumes? (I don't remember what it's called, but it's in the base game, no card unlocks.) So I added Rui in there, and I loved that group ever since. What a dynamic. I could see them going roller skating on the weekends.)

Serpent Intent: also known as, how much can I angst Minori while building that Miya class 1A group? I mean, there will be Shiho and Kohane angst too. But the start of the group is built on Minori angst.

Kohane will totally get a glow up, and it's [hopefully] going to be a bit different from her VBS one.

I said this would be simple. I think I lied to myself. Well I'm gonna call it here for now, but I'm totally going to put up some more about this AU, so stay tuned! And I'm open to questions/asks too. Thanks for checking this out!

[ouliarts]

Darkest Dungeon 2 spoilers for Abomination Backstory and Hunger of the beast clan update

Just a little character analysis The Abomination and how I feel about his new lore. It's a little long because I have thoughts about the sad science man

I’m probably in the minority with this but I actually really like the Abomination backstory in DD2. Like I genuinely like what it means for the character. I get the appeal of the idea that he was an alchemist who was experimenting with making a curse and accidentally cursed himself. I even had a similar headcanon about it before the dlc. But there's something about his story in dd2 that really hits me.

In the first game there was a bit of mystery around Bigby. he felt like the one hero that probably holds himself with the least amount of care. All the other heroes wear armor, have proper weapons, nice clothes that are well maintained. Bigby doesn’t have that. He wears teared pants, no shirt, no shoes, a single cloth that he isn’t even properly wearing, man is constantly gripping it. He doesn’t even bother trying to hide his brand. This is not a man who sees himself as worth taking care of. Is it because of guilt? Well he probably deserves it right? Maybe he brought it upon himself, maybe he was messing with things he didn’t understand and now this is his punishment?

And then we get the lore drop that the circumstance that led him to be like this wasn’t even his own fault. It was a horrible accident (that probably could have been avoided if he wasn’t being dumb and going to a well known dangerous moor, with no protection, at night, alone with no guide. I love you Bigby but that was not a pro gamer move). He was mauled, he didn’t want to die. Managing to save himself with a serum that ended up just sealing his fate. Then he was taken in and tortured by the church for who knows how long for reasons he didn’t understand (I don’t think he even killed anyone; they just mentioned a mutilated cow).

And then when he finally transforms he's horrified. Could you imagine his feelings? He was tortured, branded and right after that his body transformed into something horrifying before his own eyes. He has no control over it, no say to what happens. And then he wakes up, alone, surrounded by dead bodies he made. Because they were right. They should have been afraid of him. How could he ever trust himself again? When he caused all of this. 

Bro is suicidal as heck man, even his in game dialogue has him constantly thinking he should die. This man does not think he is worth anything anymore.

I would also like to point out that his beast form doesn’t look right. It doesn’t look like a regular rotclaw at least (I think we all can agree it was probably a rotclaw that jumped him, they literally have an attack that mauls you with blight damage)

Like comparing the two side by side. One arm is bigger than the other, he barely has any fur, his legs are different being clawed instead of hooves, his teeth are sharper and he's a lot smaller compared to one (that last could just be cause of gameplay reason, maybe he's suppose to be the same size but he has to fit in the line up somehow)

I like to think it's because he made that imperfect antidote. I think he was legit supposed to either die from the poison that night but he managed to save himself with the mess of a serum he managed to scrounge together. Only that serum was not at all perfect because he used all the wrong things and he couldn’t remember the recipe so he ended up just making the mutation worse. Sealing his fate. Why else would Red Hook purposely make him an Alchemist and not just a regular guy that got mauled.

So in a way he is responsible for why he is the way he is but like, can you really blame him for trying to save himself? Bro forgot the recipe for the antivenom cause he was panicking and just rawdogged it. And now he probably wishes he just let the poison kill him.

But that's a personal headcanon thing not really important to this. 

And then that one line in the last shrine. 

“Goodbye to the man that wished to chart the stars” This line really shows you how little he thinks about himself now. He just wanted to be a study some plants, chart the stars, learn about the world. But he doesn’t deserve that anymore. He doesn't deserve to be comfortable, or treated well. The man he once was is gone, no more. He's not a man anymore, he can never go back.

He made one dumb mistake And now he lives with it for the rest of his life. He hates himself for it. Blames himself, literally puts the chains back on because he cannot trust himself ever again. Because of one dumb mistake he made. He seeks redemption for things that were completely out of his control. His story is a tragedy, because he never had a choice in it. 

Anyway what I mean to say is, I really like this sopping wet cat of a nerd, with so much self loathing, that made one really dumb mistake and is being punished way too severely by the world for it. Quite literally the GOAT of all time

[deathpressmonogatari]

I had this massive rant last night but I'm just so unhappy with Shadow of The Erdtree. You can feel so much got cut or butchered for the final product and it hurts. The dlc is beautiful, the journey and locations are magical, it's such a good experience. But the story is so flat, so weak.

The lore is interesting. Everything we learn about Marika gives us so much. We know about her, why she did the things they did. Her people. Why she reacted to her omen children the way we did. We learn about the fingers and the absence of the greater will and how that has led to our twisted world, with Metyr reaching out to the nothingness. And that's where it ends.

I've been very critical of Miquella's handling in the dlc, I don't like how someone so important is relegated to like 4 voice lines and zero reason as to why we want to oppose him and join his order; like in his cut ending. He deserves way more screentime and integration into our journey.

Messmer I love, but he doesn't get to do anything? He's a boss, he's the firstborn, and he unleashed his mother's fury on the hornsent. And you kill him and that's that. How does he feel about his siblings? He interacted with Miquella, because how else does Miquella get to Enir-Ilim? He needs Messmer to give him access. Why did they cut that dialouge. I assumed Miquella told him about the shattering. How does Messmer feel about his mother's choice? Her imprisonment? How does he feel about Radahn, clearly positive since he lets all that shit happen. But Messmer deserved more and to say more words

Romina not getting any dialouge in the final cut is bad enough. But no cutscene?? She's clearly very important and she doesn't give us anything. It's so annoying, she is the boss that stands between us and the sealing tree and she's treatrd like fodder and not someone who is clearly VERY important to the story and likely Malenia.

I love St. Trina but it felt like she was forgotten, her lines were so interesting but her quest doesn't progress anything? She talks to us and gives us her view on what Miquella's doing which is great but god I think she deserved more

I've put a shit ton of time into DLCs for DS1, DS3 & BB and I will die on the hill that they were all done better than SoTE. It felt like they wanted to be vague for the sake of being vague to the point of it being less of a mystery to solve and more of a "oh, okay. Guess that's that." If this is meant to be the final content drop for ER (I hope not) then I really don't know what it was meant to achieve. I suppose it did educate us on Marika and the GW and then that's it.

I've seen a lot of takes that we should accept the story they gave us and it's entitled to want something different, but I feel if you're someone, like myself, who puts hours and hours of time into these games and you're used to really good stories and lore being told only for the next big dlc to basically fumble that for our epic Radahn moment is not great. And I am within my right to criticise that, as is anyone else. And if you're a massive fan of the story good for you, I'm not telling you you're wrong. This is MY opinion.

Also we should've had a Messmer consort ending ;)

[carlyraejepsans]

as a sans is from Deltarune truther what do you think about the. implications of papyrus remembering green grass pre snowdin times

well, my engines are whirring and roaring like a sports car in the hands of a cucked mid-life crisis ridden 50 year old, as you might imagine. I've heard some folks interpret it as him referring to the patch of grass from the papyrus' cool song kickstarter promo, but he explicitly mentions that song earlier in the q&a and sans doesn't cut him off to prevent him from answering the question like he does in the final one. so yeah. I think that green grass is not UT native grass, HAHAHA.

i think the q&a pretty much seals it for me that wherever they came from, sans and papyrus came from there together (how else would sans be able to finish the question for him) which. WOOH. weight off of my chest, honestly. i was getting worried, what with the possibility of them being biologically different and papyrus not being included in sans' lore/character arc about moving on.

... actually, that is another matter that the q&a has opened up.

answering "what was your life before you moved" with "there was green grass" is... a weird choice of words. of course, the obvious doylistic explanation for it is that toby wanted to drop a hint without spoiling anything more, and the result sounded a bit clunky in its execution. but if there IS a watsonian, in-universe explanation for that weirdness, i wonder if he might be struggling to remember his past? because sans is obviously still homesick and misses his old friends, he tried to go back for a very long time (boy did he try) before giving up, and he has grieved his old life for a WHILE. papyrus doesn't really have anything similar in his character arc. he's lonely, yes, but he doesn't really miss anyone. and those few times when he does hint to the past, it's always related to sans. specifically, I'm thinking of the winter alarm clock where he literally can't remember the last time sans got to celebrate the holidays with a lot of friends (friends we know for a fact he had, and that he misses. a lot.)

sooo...... question mark??? it could be that papyrus doesn't remember something of their past that sans does, or it could be just a weird choice of words on Toby's end. I'm especially intrigued by sans shutting the question down. i wonder what his deal is.