Wanna try this! It's always fun for me to figure out character design, and this is a great opportunity to be provided with odd bits I might have not chosen myself.
Sadly couldn't find the original of this post since it's been going around places, but I'll leave a link for the artist if you know them.
Sorry for a long wait, I have a good excuse, I was busy with my diploma. Now here is our villain.
This is Margo. He's a short trans man. He has vitiligo and central heterochromia (auburn-green). He is very aloof and uses his tail to hang from places. But he's still a villain despite his silly nature, and he has a power to trap people in his mirrors.
Contributions:
1) trans man @python-nebula
2) short 5'2 @justanotherpurplebutterfly
3) vitiligo @squishythesquid592
4) downturned eyes, central heterochromia (auburn-green) @maddragonfruit
5) dead anime mom hairstyle, black with a low ponytail @ghostkittypog
Of course it happens in the busiest, most hectic week at work for me but... I actually feel like writing again for the first time in a long time? I have an idea for a super indulgent thingy... maybe if my hands aren't dead this weekend, I'll try to get it out.
If anyone knows a way to link sleeping beauty to a rose, in a quite obvious way, you would really help me out in the meantime.
Iâm sorry youâre feeling sad today, hope things get better soon. I love your Itâs all about perspective au. Hereâs a little something for you. Take care and stay safe.
Now, for the reaction I've been holding in since this morning:
HDATJSLGKYAKHSKYDRCLRAHSJYDUTDRJGQOUXUTCCTIJAUTX CORSThslfE S FTA AUYVTSLYAJHXT
Omg he is such a cutie???? Adorable!! He looks so squishy and huggable, I just wanna pick him up and never letting go (though I guess he wouldn't thank me for that xD).
This is amazing, not just the fact that someone actually took the time to draw something that I wrote about (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA) but also because I haven't updated this story in so long and you have no idea how good it feels to know that people are still interested in it. Thank you so much, you absolutely made my day!
Thesis, especially lab work, really effed up my hands and threw a wrench in my inktober plans. There are a few prompts I was very excited about, so I will still post them after Iâve recovered. Might be a while, though đą
Logan was different from his parents. They looked similar enough, with their hands and feet and faces but⊠Logan was small. And not just child small, he was really small. As in, able-to-sit-on-his-parents'-palm small.
He asked them about it once, but they started making uncomfortable faces at each other and he'd quickly taken back his question. It was fine, he didn't need to know.
As he grew older though, his curiosity grew harder to ignore. Of course, he wasn't stupid. He knew what adoption was and he knew it was unlikely that he was their biological son. Pat and Virgil must've simply adopted him. Maybe his first parents didn't want him because he was so freakishly small? (Pat always told him he was perfect the way he was, but Logan wasn't blind: his size wasn't normal).
Since he couldn't play with other children - those who were of his parents' size - he spent a lot of time on his own, making tools or playing games on the internet. Heâd done a lot of research on his short stature, but some things didnât add up. According to a Wikipedia article, dwarfism referred to people shorter than 4â10â, and Logan wasnât even half a foot tall. He was smaller than the smallest adult ever. Heck, he was smaller than a newborn baby, and he was fifteen already! Sure, he wasnât done growing yet, but he also wasnât delusional.
That particular string of research had brought up a whole existential crisis of its own, after which heâd been too confused scared curious to keep quiet to his parents. Just what was he? That was what brought him here, warmly dressed in the inner pocket of Dadâs coat.
Virgil didnât like to be called âDadâ. He allowed it generally but Logan had seen his face tense up whenever he said it. Thatâs why he called his parents by their names now, except for moments where he wanted safety. And now, he kind of wanted safety.
Not that he was in danger, of course. Dad and Pa would never hurt him, he knew that all too well. It was just that, when heâd asked his questions, Dad had somberly replied that heâd âexplain everythingâ and then asked him to get dressed. Logan didnât know where they were going, but he knew theyâd gotten on a bus. Not that heâd seen anything, of course - his parents didnât want other people to see him - but he knew the sounds well enough.
Leaves crunched underneath Dadâs booth, and a few minutes later, the zipper of the coat came down. âAlright Logan, weâre here.â Logan climbed out of the pocket and onto Dadâs waiting hand, shivering a bit in the wind. Dad lowered him to the ground and he looked around, immediately spotting the gigantic tree before them.
âWhatâs here?â
Dad crouched and pointed at the base of the tree, and now Logan could see some markings. He walked over, a frown on his face. The markings were carved into the wood of the tree, unvisible unless you knew they were there. He traced them with a finger, eventually making out the shape of a gravestone with the letters R.I.P. on it. A chill ran down his spine, not from the wind this time.
âDad? What is this?â
âItâs a grave,â Dad replied, looking away. âThis is where I buried your father twelve years ago.â
That answered and raised so many questions that Logan didnât know what to say. A whirlwind of emotions flowed through him, most too fleeting to really grasp. âYou knew him?â he asked eventually, and hope became more prominent. If he knew his father then he might know what Logan was, and it could help with this feeling of⊠wrongness heâd felt over the past few years.
Much to his confusion though, Dad shook his head. âNo, I didnât know him.â
âThen whyâŠâ He didnât finish his question. He didnât need to.
Virgil took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. âBecause Iâm the one who killed him.â
Warnings:Â Unsympathetic Remus, vore mention, implied vore.
Patton didn't know how long he had been hiding in this dark spot. Near-total darkness surrounded him but it did nothing to ease is his rapidly beating heart. Sitting still in one spot was making him antsy, but moving around was dangerous too.
Although⊠he hadnât heard anything in a while. Maybe he should make his move now? If he stayed in one place for too long, Remus would catch him without a doubt. He made up his mind and prepared to run. Then he darted out from under the fridge, aiming for the exit of the kitchen. He made it there without trouble, but thatâs the only place he made it to. He turned the corner and ran straight into a bare foot, the smell of which he recognised immediately. He turned around without confirming his suspicions, eager to find a new hiding spot.
He shrieked when something swiped him up from the side, and not a moment later he was high up in the air, his body encircled by strong fingers. He trembled in their hold, desperate tears leaking from his eyes.
"There you are, little mouse!" the high-pitched voice boomed over him. "Looks like you lost our little game. Do you know what that means?"
Patton sobbed, shaking with fear. "Please!" he begged. "Please let me leave!"
"It's time for a punishment game!" Remus sing-songed, as if Patton hadn't even spoken.
"Ugh, don't be so disgusting, brother," another voice resounded.
Remus drew him against his chest, the pressure just this side of uncomfortable. "Don't listen to him, little Mousie! Roman's a bore. He keeps telling me not to play with my food, even though we're having so much fun!"
"I keep telling you not to eat your pets." Roman was clearly disgusted, but Patton knew he wouldn't extend a helping hand to him. He was alone.
Remus tossed him up and caught him again, drawing a scream from his throat. "Same difference," he said, almost bored. Then he smiled down at Patton, showing off his large, sharp teeth. "I know just the thing for your punishment, Mousie!"
Patton deflated as he was carried back to Remus' room, faintly wondering if this punishment would be his last.
I read your Pet story right before taking a nap and I had an interesting dream about it. So Patton and Logan are in their owners apartment (guessing that V and Ro live together) and are left alone for a bit. Lo starts insulting Pat for being such a "people pleaser" and stuff like that. Pat goes silent for a bit before responding. He says "Let me teach you something so you don't have to learn the hard way" and starts ranting to Lo about how "no matter how smart or capable we are, humans (1/2)
2/2 don't, and never will, care. " He says the humans will always see them as lesser and the best option for the tinys is to just accept things the way they are, because if they didn't, it will only lead to punishment and anger. He motions to the bruises on Logan's wrist, left from the punishment collar, as an example. Logan is silent for the rest of the day.
Geez, that is sad :( I hope you slept well despite having this dream! Also side note but it's cool that you can remember your dreams! I wish I could!
You'll just have to see what happens next when I post part 2 ;)
@adashofaroace thanks, thatâs good to know! I do have some ideas for this verse but I was hesitant on expanding since it seemed not many people were interested.
Logan grimaced and shifted again, trying to find a way to alleviate the ache in his arm muscles. He longed to stretch them properly, but he couldnât do that with that stupid âdiscipline collarâ around his neck. The torture device attached his wrists to the sides of his neck, leaving him unable to use his hands at all. The store clerks would tell customers that it was to keep him from escaping, but he knew better. He wore this collar as a punishment.
Because he had an attitude.
Because heâd been returned so often.
Because he wasnât turning a profit.
Jeremy, the clerk on duty when heâd been returned, had put it on him as soon as his previous âownersâ walked through the door. That had been three days ago, and it hadnât come off since.
The ache in his muscles was almost unbearable, but he persevered. There was little he could do, anyway. The clerk on duty was too far away to hear him, and his cellmate wasnât any help either. Logan scoffed at Patton, who was in the centre of their glass cage, trying to stay seated on top of a ball. Show-off. Goody two-shoes. Human sympathiser!
Logan didnât know much about the guy, only that he did whatever humans asked of him, even if it meant tattling on Logan. He didnât even want to help him get the stupid torture collar off, saying Logan just had to apologize to the humans and promise to be better. Had he no pride at all?
Now, he knew Patton had grown up in captivity, so his pride had been long broken by humans. Patton truly believed humans knew better than him, and he genuinely wanted to be of service to them. It was pitiful, really, but it was hard to feel bad for the guy who so stubbornly chose humansâ approval over helping him.
Ironically, out of the two of them, the humans typically chose Logan as their new possession and not Patton. The other borrower - could he even be called that? - was always there in the cage when he was returned, trying to appeal to the humans that walked past their enclosure. Not that many were interested in them. They were much older than the others Logan had seen in this store, and thus they were seen as âdamaged goodsâ; unruly pets that their owners wanted to get rid of. The only reason they got any attention at all was that they were sold at a lower price.
âWell well well,â a voice cooed, and Logan looked up with a flinch. An enormous head was staring down at him, and he mentally kicked himself for letting his guard down. These months in captivity had dulled his senses. The human was smiling widely, revealing his large teeth and fogging up the glass in the process. His giant finger tapped the glass a few times, and Logan tried to push himself further into his corner.
Patton waved excitedly at the newcomer, falling off his ball as he did so and earning a loud giggle. âHello!â
âWell hello there, cutie. Do you mind if I pick you up?â
âNot at all, please do!â
Logan rolled his eyes and turned his face away, not wanting to see the willingness Patton displayed as he got close to the human. It was sickening. Unfortunately, because he wasnât looking he didnât see the giant hand coming until it wrapped around him and pulled him up. He squeaked indignantly and immediately started to struggle, but there wasnât much he could do against a human, especially when his hands were tied.
âFeisty little thing, huh? Is that why you wear that thing?â the human chuckled. âWhatâs your name?â Logan glared at him, clamping his lips shut.
âThatâs Logan,â Patton piped up unhelpfully, drawing the humanâs attention back to him. âAnd the collar is a punishment.â Logan squinted at him, wondering if Patton was trying to make himself look better in comparison or if he was simply trying to be honest. It didnât matter either way: this human was loud and extra, and heâd prefer to stay far away from this type.
âA little troublemaker, then? Oh, it says here heâs a feral. I guess that makes sense then.â Logan didnât rise to the bait, and the human smiled at Patton instead. âAnd whatâs your name, beautiful?â
âIâm Patton!â
âItâs lovely to meet you, Patton! My name is Roman.â
âDonât run off on me, you asshole,â a new voice grumbled, and Logan whipped his head around to see another human coming their way. He gulped, instinctively stopping his struggle to attract as little attention as possible. While Roman was loud and excessive and overall a lot, this new human was positively terrifying. Black lines were drawn around his eyes and smudged underneath them, and black rings pierced the skin of his eyebrow, lip and ears. The look in his eyes was stern and hostile, and Logan involuntarily started shivering when the eyes landed on him. âThese the ones you were talking about?â
âYep,â Roman smiled, raising them up. âVirgil, meet Patton and Logan. Iâm taking Patton, by the way.â
Patton squealed and clapped his hands at that, and Virgil rolled his eyes. âSure, I donât care either way.â
âCome on, you two match,â Roman countered cheerfully as he held Logan out to him. âYouâre both perpetual frowners.â
âYeah, yeah.â He reached out and Logan let out a little scared noise when the hand gently wrapped around him. Virgil barely looked at him as they walked towards the register.
Roman paid first and Patton was giggling happily the whole time, cheering when the clerk handed him back over to Roman. Then it was Virgilâs turn, and Logan groaned when she took him from Virgilâs hand none too gently. She tapped some keys on the register, Virgil handed her the money, and with that, it was done: heâd been sold. Again. Maybe he should have been used to it by now, but it never failed to make him feel terrified. Terrified and enraged.
âCan you, uh, take that thing off?â Virgil asked when she handed him back.
The clerk - her name tag read Miranda - puckered her mouth in thought. âI can, but I have to warn you, sir. This oneâs a little troublemaker. Heâs a feral, you see?â
âYeah, I know,â Virgil shrugged. âStill, can you take it off?â
âSure. One moment please.â She speedily took him to the back of the shop, her quick steps making his head reel. She gently placed him on a working bank and started fiddling with the collar until it came off. A cry of both pain and relief escaped him when he moved his arms down, reflexive tears springing to his eyes. âAww, Iâll miss you too, lilâ fella,â Miranda smiled, petting his head. âBut try not to cause trouble this time, okay? I know you donât think so but we really do want whatâs best for you.â
Logan turned his head, not dignifying her with a response. Humans had taken him from his home and his family, put him on display like an animal, subjected him to their every whim, and then they had the audacity to claim they wanted what was best for him.
Well, it didnât matter. He was going to escape, no matter how long it took him, and then those dumb, arrogant humans would never see him again.
Miranda carried him back to the front, and he tried not to shrink back when he met Virgilâs gaze. Those piercing eyes seemed to stare right into his soul, as if the human could tell what heâd been thinking just now. Logan set his jaw and forced himself to stare right back.
Just you wait, he thought as he was handed over. Iâll get my freedom back.
I think I overdid it a little bit with thesis and inktober and volleyball practice, because my hands are hurting a bit again. I'll probably take a few days off from the prompts. Wasn't really feeling the upcoming ones anyway.
Logan fell on his back into the grass, panting and smiling. Patton landed on his rapidly rising and falling chest, folding his translucent wings to his back. His giggle sounded like little bells, and it was like music to Loganâs ears. âTired already, Lo?â he teased.
âI can... keep going,â he insisted, fighting for air.
âOf course dear, but itâs break time now.â A tiny hand patted his chest and the fairy giggled again. âI like you, so I donât wanna break you yet.â
âOf⊠hah⊠of course.â
âYouâre getting better though,â Patton praised. âI like seeing you dance.â Something sparked in his chest, and he was halfway up before he realized it. Patton fluttered in front of him, pushing him back down with one arm. âNo, down.â Loganâs back landed on the grass again. âI told you it was break time, didnât I?â
âYou did,â he confirmed, still smiling fondly. âI just...â
He didnât continue, but Patton giggled nonetheless. âYou silly child. You really like dancing with me, donât you?â Logan nodded, his smile widening. Patton hummed and landed on his chest again. âWe can dance more later.â
They lay in silence for a while, looking up at the sky and warming themselves in the sun. The blades of grass tickled against Loganâs arms and legs as they trembled from exertion. His breathing slowly mellowed out until each breath didnât rasp out his throat anymore. The sunâs warmth became uncomfortable quickly, but he didnât move.Â
After a while, Patton got up, telling him to stay right there. He came back with a blob of water and a moist piece of fabric. Logan obediently opened his mouth when he was told to, closing his eyes in bliss when the cool water quenched his thirst and soothed his throat. Then he took the piece of fabric and dabbed it at his face, trying to clean the dried sweat and tear tracks.
He sat up as Patton landed at his shoulder. His bell-like voice was startlingly close as he giggled. âOh, my silly little Logan. Look at your leg.â He looked down slowly.
The cuffs of his jeans no longer covered his lower legs, but that wasnât new. They had cut the bottom part a long time ago, around the same time he lost his shoes and socks and tie. He hurt his legs so often that it was just easier to keep it like this. But he knew Patton wasnât talking about his clothes, so he looked past the ruffled hem at his bruised shins. His right ankle was swollen and purple, and his knee looked weird too. It was probably dislocated again, but he wasnât sure. There were blisters and gashes on both his feet, most of them surrounded by dried blood, some of them still bleeding.
Patton tsked. âI keep forgetting how fragile you are. Letâs get you healed up!â
As the fairy worked his magic to mend his torn muscles and broken skin, Logan laid back and closed his eyes. His smile barely wavered as his limbs spasmed during the process. It felt nice when the pain finally ebbed away. He had felt it earlier of course, but he couldnât just stop dancing because of some pain. And a little pain never hurt anybody, anyways.
His expression twitched into a frown at that thought - he felt like that wasnât quite right -Â but it was quickly smoothed out. Patton often said he thought too deeply about stuff. It was true, but he was getting better. All thanks to Patton.
He was so lucky they met. He could still vaguely remember the dread and fear heâd felt when the fairy read out the name heâd written on the first page in his book - his full, true name - so long ago. It seemed so silly now, although he couldnât really fault himself. Logan from before just hadnât known yet that Patton was his friend. He would never hurt him.
Logan didnât like the him from before much, based on what little he could remember. Logan from before was stressed and distant when he met with Patton, and heâd given him a hard time when all the fairy wanted was to be friends and spend time together. It was a good thing he was better now, and that Patton was so kind and forgiving. It had all worked out in the end.
âThere, all done!â Patton grabbed two of his now healed toes and wiggled them, causing Logan to laugh. The muscles in his cheek became sore from keeping his smile in place, but he paid it no mind. The fairy flew a few circles around his head and then stopped in front of his face. âNow how about that dance?â
Logan laughed again and reached out his hand, unsurprised when Patton pulled him up. The small grip on his finger was strong and chilly. Firm and inescapable grounding.
He shook his head to get rid of the thought that felt wrong. He still had those silly thoughts every now and then, but he was getting better at not thinking them.Â
He didnât need to escape. He already had his happily ever after.
âHey Patton, you in here?" Thomas asked after he knocked on the doorframe.
"Over here, Kiddo!" Patton waved from where he was playing chess with Logan. Both players were on pillows so they had an overview of the playing field, while Roman and Remus were down on the board, moving the pieces and hurling taunts at each other. Roman moved Patton's pieces because Logan was the only one who could keep Remus on a figurative leash. The last and only time Patton had tried ended with Remus doing unspeakable things to the white horse piece while wearing far too little clothing.Â
The four of them looked up when Thomas entered the room. Before he could speak, Remus let out a joyful cry. "You're wearing the shirt! It's my turn! Let me in!"
"No!" Thomas' shirt pocket wiggled and then Virgil's face popped up. "You don't get a turn until you've properly atoned for sabotaging the list, so it's my turn."
"I've atoned enough, it's been so long since it was my turn!" Virgil plopped back into the pocket without another word. "Thomas, tell Virgil to stop being mean to me!"
"I mean, he kinda has a point," the human replied. "Besides, aren't you busy playing chess?"
"Death to the king!" Remus yelled before he ran towards the king piece and sending it flying off the board with a flying kick.
"Remus, those are our own pieces!" Logan yelled to no avail. He managed to kick, roll and shove almost half the pieces off the board before Roman tackled him and they started wrestling.
âWelp,â Patton chuckled, looking a bit disappointed. âLooks like weâre done playing. Did you need me, Thomas?â
âOh, yeah.â Thomas tore his eyes away from the wrestling duo and gave him a smile. âI have these two old shirts I want to get rid of, and I figured you might wanna scavenge the stack for any fabric you can use.â
Patton clapped his hands, jumping to his feet before jumping on the hand Thomas offered him. âLead the way!â
Thomas walked him to the kitchen table, where Pattonâs eyes positively lit up when he saw the two shirts. His expression fell considerably though when the topmost shirt started moving on its own. Dee popped his scaly head out from underneath, looking none too pleased. âTouch these and youâre dead.â
Patton pushed his chin forward. âThomas said I could have them!â
âPlay nice,â their human warned.
âFine, what can you give me in return for them?â Dee huffed.
âDee.â
âItâs not like Iâm freezing out here or anything!â He popped his head back under the shirt. âThese rags are at least somewhat warm. Unless you can offer me some other warmth?â
A tiny hand with its middle finger extended raised up from Thomasâ chest pocket. âYouâre not getting into my warm and cosy pocket, snake! Itâs my turn.â
âI could hold you in my hands?â Thomas offered, knowing Dee was quite the fan of that treatment.Â
Unsurprisingly, the tiny head popped out again. âAre your hands cold?â
Patton touched a finger and hesitated. âNooo?â
âIâll make some tea,â Thomas sighed as Deeâs head disappeared again. âDonât fight.â
Three minutes of cradling a far too hot teacup later, Dee was snuggled up on his palm, mostly covered by his other hand. While the other five hated that hold because it made them feel trapped, Dee loved it. He was a rescue, taken away from a laboratory when tiny testing became illegal a few years back, and the cold and sterile environment had made him nearly addicted to gentle human touch when he finally got it. Not only that but the scales that littered the left side of his body lost heat more rapidly than his normal skin, which was why he was almost always cold. Thomas rubbed his back a few times with his thumb and smiled when the tiny almost purred.
Patton was on the table, pulling the shirts along so he could better envision what he could do with them. A big smile was on his face, and Thomasâ heart melted a little. âIâll leave you to it then, Pat. Let me know if you need me.â
~
âNo peaking, Thomas!â Virgil warned from where he was laying on his hair. When it wasnât his turn in the pocket or when Thomas didnât wear a shirt with one, that was his favourite perch. The human made sure to move carefully into the kitchen, which wasnât easy when he had to keep his eyes closed.
âOkay, ready aaaaand⊠You can look now, kiddo!â
He opened his eyes and looked at the five tinies in front of him. Before them laid⊠something. Something oddly familiar. âThis⊠this is for me?â
âIt sure is,â Logan smiled. âPatton worked really hard on it.â
âHehe, do you like it, kiddo?â
âWell, itâs certainly⊠something, alright.â Thomas held up the shirt he had given to Patton two weeks ago, only with a few... additions. The other shirt had been reworked into pockets. Six pockets on his chest area, each with a name neatly stitched on the rim.Â
It looked hideous.
Patton clapped his hands, oblivious to his apprehension. âTry it on! See if it fits!â
He bit back a sigh, not commenting on how the shirt would definitely fit him because it was his old shirt that he had worn millions of times before. After putting Virgil with the others, he pulled off the shirt he was wearing and put on his ânewâ one.
The six tinies all gave appreciative comments and noises. He turned to the mirror on the wall and tried to see what they saw. Well, when they all went in their respective pockets it was probably very cute. He could imagine Dee curling up in the warmth of his extra stuffed pocket, or Logan reading along with him over the edge of his. They were adorable moments that he usually only got to experience one at a time.
His smile became a little bit more genuine. Maybe the shirt wasnât as hideous as it first seemed.
