Are there many different types of littles that live in lux's cult/community, like any baby or toddler regressors or teen regressors, does the community have gear and stuff gor them? What is it like
Yes!! All ages of regressors get what they need, I like to imagine there's always someone appointed on watching each group throughout the day, kind of like a daycare!
Similar to their normal celebrations, there are also little parties for the regressors, so the caregivers/parents can have fun, and so can their little one/s! <3
cw: this is an age regression drabble. caregiver!keigo. keep all additions and tags strictly sfw.
Keigo spent a majority of his life protecting people from a distance.
He would, of course, always follow that twitch in his feathertips when they told him someone needed safety or comfort nearby. The act of protecting is one that scratches that intrinsic, unquenchable itch baked deep into his feathers and the fibers of his bone marrow beneath; but protection never quite felt tangible to him.
He always thought saving people meant giving yourself until you're empty and then turning heel to take flight. It meant making efficient use of your time, answering every "thank you, Hawks!" with a wink and a gust of his wings to speed away and save the next.
It meant never slowing down or seeing the fruits of your labor.
As a hero, Keigo's actions never felt solid in his hands— so he simply decided he felt that way because he wasn't trying hard enough; that he needed to clock longer hours and more frequent, grueling shifts.
But as a man, protecting you felt so much different from all that.
Keeping you safe is a slow, methodical process. It's a neverending pet project built with loving purpose and steady hands, armed with rolled up sleeves over the bicep and fuzzy teddy bears as his deadly arsenal.
Keigo has always been finely attuned to your little quirks, mannerisms, and subtle displays; so when your eyes go just the slightest bit fuzzy, fingertips wringing a frenzy against your bedsheets while you mumble in the cutest, clipped speech, he knows exactly what to do.
He can coax the tension out of your shoulders with his words alone.
"You feeling small, baby?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. Those golden eyes of his gently flick back and forth between yours when he sits, assessing your form curled in on itself against the headboard of your bed.
And your shoulders droop instantly, nodding once. You gnaw at a chewed up cuticle.
"Oh, baby, it's okay. S'okay, c'mere," Keigo whispers, arms open with grabby hands for you to crawl and nestle into his warmth. "Shhh, it's alright, little birdie. You can be small tonight. That okay? Wanna be small for me?"
The thick of his warm palm cradles the back of your skull and you nod like he just offered you a lifeline. The barrel of his chest rises and falls with even breaths, sinking you further as you smush your cheek into the side of his neck with your eyes shut.
He smells nice. You sink even deeper.
Keigo sits cross legged on the bed and leans just the slightest bit back when you sink into him. Like this, he reminds you of an aged, sturdy tree; firm and unyielding with the slightest give, but always consistent and firmly rooted.
Safe. Warm and safe.
Always safe.
"Mm," you hum, feeling a bit fuzzier now.
"Yeah?" Keigo answers. He pulls back to get a good look at you, and you see him smiling ear to ear as if that little sound you just gave was a whole speech. "Get comfy, cause I'm gonna spoil you tonight."
And spoil you he does.
The next thing you know, Keigo has you sitting cross legged in front of him on the bed, ready to make a few last big decisions.
"Okay!" He chirps, placing two open palms in front of you for you to look at. "We're gonna pick, okay?" His rich voice guides you along gently, smoothly. "Just two, I prommy."
You nod fervently at the reassurance, nearly straining your poor little neck with the motion.
You have to think— which is scary— but it's only two times. You can do that.
"Perfect, dove," Keigo praises as if he just read your mind.
The first question is easy.
"Blanket fort," he says, clenching his left fist closed and open for emphasis. "Or bed?" He closes and opens the right.
If you were a smidge more lucid, you'd feel a twinge of remorse for how hard you slam down on his left palm.
"Sorry, 'Kei," you droop.
"Awww," Keigo coos genuinely. "You think you hurt me… That's so cute, dove! Yeah, you're a strong one, aint'cha?"
And just like that, you're smiling proud once more. Keigo's heart soars at a job well done.
"One more and you're finished, little bird," he says seriously, like he's presenting you with a quest; and you nod your head with a furrowed brow to accept the challenge, a hero ready to conquer.
"Movie," he says, clenching one palm. "Or storytime?" He clenches the other.
Maybe you weren't quite as ready as you thought.
Tears begin to pinprick at the corners of your eyes. You fight back little hitched sniffles and sobs as you stand in the face of the mountain before you, trying to be brave.
"I… U-Uhm," you hiccup and stutter at the idea of thinking any more than you have to.
Keigo considers stepping in. His feathers ruffle from the base to the edges of his wingspan, spine stiffening at the sight of you in distress. The itch begins to burn once more and—
You slowly place both palms face down in his, lip wobbling when you look at him.
"Both?" He asks and your heart swells with gratitude that he picked up on your meaning— of course he would, you beam. Keigo's so smart.
You nod once.
"Both it is, sweetheart!"
All other decisions from that point onward are made by Keigo himself.
Keigo decides to stand, hushing your blubbers with a kiss to your crown and a teddy placed in your hands to keep you company while he sets the scene.
Keigo decides on the color theme for tonight's blanket fort (baby blue), putting to good use his avian instincts of nest building when he selects the finest comforters and pillows to fluff and stack.
Keigo decides to hand you your fuzziest jammies and softest blankies while his feathers zip off to fetch your favorite mug carrying something hot for you to sip.
Keigo decides on the movie— something animated and lighthearted, a familiar favorite of yours. He suppresses a smile that twitches at the corners, thinking about how excited you're gonna get once you see. You'll squeak "that's my favorite!" like you don't say that every time, and he'll reply once again, "no way, mine too!"
Keigo decides he selfishly gets more out of this than you do; but at the same time, unbeknownst to him, you decide the exact same thing.
Fandom: Helluva Boss
Summary: After they get free from their kidnappers and the fire, Fizz offers Blitz a ride back up to Lust so that it's easier for him to catch an elevator home. On the way there, Blitz starts acting in a way that's strangely familiar and Fizz feels the need to investigate.
Warnings: Age regression, Alternate Universe: Littles Are Known, mentions of sexual trauma, mentions of rape, and implied child abuse
Word Count: 3,967
Ship(s): Blitzo Buckzo & FizzaRolli
Archive link!
Idea from @lovely-number-7
The first thing that Fizz noticed on their ride back to Lust was that Blitz wasn’t nearly as shaken up as he was. He knee that his friend worked as an assassin, traveling between the human world and Hell for money, but they had just been kidnapped and held hostage. On top of that, they had to relive something very close to the trauma that had separated them from each other in the first place.
Fizz could still see the green flames dancing around him and feel the way that his arm refused to react to what he was asking them to do. It reminded him so much of when he had been enjoying his birthday with his friends and family, only to realize that everything he loved and cared about was literally burning down around him. Just the memory of it and the fact that his left prosthetic was not functioning made him feel like he was trapped in that hospital bed again. At least when he needed a break from his limbs and hearing aides he knew that he had a way to put them back on thanks to Ozzie and Bel’s genius working together. Back then, he had to scream and wail for anyone to hear him in that giant Greed hospital for a nurse to come and do basically anything for him.
“Blitz?” Fizz asked. His voice was scratchier than normal thanks to the layer of smoke inhalation now hanging around it, but he was able to get the words out clearly enough that they didn’t sound garbled. “Do you want to come back to my place so that the two of us can talk? I get it if you don’t, we were both pretty horrible to each other over the years and went through something pretty serious tonight.”
“Was normal,” Blitz said. He was staring straight ahead, around the headrest and through the windshield. His hands were grasping the seatbelt that had stretched over his chest as hard as he could, enough that his knuckles had turned gray from the blood.
“Blitz? Are you okay?” Fizz asked as he reached his hand over to touch his friend. It was strange to think of them in that way when they had done nothing but hate each other for years and years. Still, Blitz had saved his life from that fire and the kidnapping that he had accidentally caused. If he hadn’t been such a cocky shit and just done what he promised Ozzie he was going to do, then he never would have drawn attention to the two of them by getting into a fight in the middle of the sidewalk. Fizz had caused the accident to happen by being arrogant and Blitz had been there to save him despite all the history that the two of them shared, a fair bit of it serving as a good example why Blitz would do exactly the opposite of what he had done.
The moment that Fizz’s hand dropped down onto Blitz’s shoulder, the other imp flinched and then curled in on himself. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. “Trying to get better, give a second.”
Fizz felt his heart beat pick up in his chest as something that he had buried in the back of his mind sprang back to life. He and Blitz had been seventeen when the fire happened, too young to leave the circus and make their own way in the world away from Cash but old enough to have taken the Imp Classification Test. They had both taken the first one required by Hell Law when they were fifteen, but Fizz had entirely put Blitz’s classification out of his mind because the other imp had also refused to acknowledge it in any way. Now it all came crashing back to him and he clearly remembered the large red ‘L’ marking the top of the page.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and then slid into the middle seat before he put that one on. He had already gotten in one accident that robbed him of some mobility and hearing, he didn’t need another one stealing his skin or giving him brain damage. He placed his working arm around Blitz and then asked, “Blitz, are you little?” he made sure that his voice was gentle and reassuring as he asked, he didn’t want to scare the other imp off.
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “The last time I was little it was so bad. I should be a man, I shouldn’t have a fucking littlespace anyway.”
“That’s Cash talking and we both know that most of his words were just alcohol on the way back up,” Fizz said. “There’s nothing wrong with being little, middle, or big. You’re just doing what your brain needs to function. It’s like saying that you’re not man for sleeping every night or drinking water.”
“I had an ex tell me that once,” Blitz forced a smile onto his face.
“What? That you weren’t man because you slept every night and drank water?” Fizz asked. He was beginning to question the company that his ex-best friend had kept in the time that they were apart from each other. Blitz gave a morose little nod and then shuddered. His skin was beginning to look a bit tacky and pale, something that Fizz had seen in some of his fellow performers when they had put off their headspace for too long.
It was commonly believed that headspaces were forbidden in Lust, but they were simply just respected more. Most of the beings in Hell that were born there, unless they were part sinner or entirely sinner, had a headspace of some kind. Concubi could have a subspace or a domspace if the way that they fueled their magic had to do with sex, but most didn’t. Concubi were believed to be purely sexual beings by the humans because those were the agents that went up to earth, but they really just fed off attention and emotion from others. If there was a concubus who had a littlespace or a caregiver headspace, then they were treated just as reverently and respectfully as the ones who had something sexual going on. The ranks of the court had to deal with things other than the headspaces that people used to take care of their minds and process the stressors of life.
Due to the headspaces being something that existed and were treated well in Hell, quite a few of the people that Fizz worked with and for had them and didn’t know what to do with them. Unfortunately, even though Lust respected headspaces education still rang along class lines and many of the people that ended up doing sex work didn’t know how to properly take care of themselves or didn’t have the money for a hyperclassification test that would give them the information that they needed to be at their healthiest. Fizz had gotten pretty good at identifying when they needed a bit of extra time down in their headspace or to skip out on the show that night.
Blitz was displaying all of them, which made anxiety sit low in his stomach. “Blitz, I want you to stop fighting it and just let it happen. Something really scary just happened to you and even though you deal with that every day in your job, it’s still going to require some headspace time to help you process it. We may not have gotten along due to some stupid miscommunication that Mammon and Cash played out, but I promise I’m a safe person for you to regress around,” Fizz said. He wasn’t sure that he truly believed what he was saying because he didn’t feel very able to help Blitz in that moment, but he wanted to do it more than anything.
He had been given a caregiver classification, which hadn’t helped with the divide that Cash had drawn between the two of them. When they had gotten their classifications, he had assumed that he would become Blitz’s caregiver and they would register themselves officially when they were adults. Instead, he had only ever seen Blitz down in his headspace when Tilla was feeling well enough to fight with Cash about it. She had taken care of him and refused to let anyone near he baby, which made sense given the kind of shit that Blitz had to put up with when she wasn’t around. He had forgotten about it when he was recovering from the fire, but now it was all coming flooding back to him.
“Safe?” Blitz asked. His voice sounded so small and scared, it made Fizz’s heart break in his chest. He’d had littles before, Ozzie had quite a few partners that he worked with a myriad of different ways, but none of them had ever felt quite the way that Blitz did. His heart was overflowing with love and care, which meant that it almost physically hurt him to know that someone had damaged Blitz badly enough that he felt like he had to fight his headspace instead of just giving into it.
“Safe,” Fizz nodded. He rubbed Blitz’s back with his working hand and then brought the other imp closer so that he was cleaning into Fizz. “You remember when we were little and I took care of you every single time you got hurt? I’m doing that now, but the hurt is in here instead of out there,” he explained. He tapped Blitz’s chest and then his knees. Blitz had been the kind of kid that was always running around and flinging himself off of things so he got injured pretty often.
“Yeah, safe with Fizz,” Blitz giggled as he kicked his leg. He had always done that, even though that wasn’t how reflexes worked.
Fizz smiled and kissed the top of his head, right where his horns met his skull. “Do you want to come back to my house or is there someone that usually takes care of you when you’re small like this?”
“I take care myself! In-de-pen-dant!” Blitz said as he jammed his finger into his chest.
“Do you want to be independent from Fizzy?” he asked, tickling at his sides. Blitz squealed and shook his head as he tried to defend himself from the offending fingers. When Fizz let up, he remained with his head leaned back against the door and a bright smile on his face. “You wanna go home and take care of yourself like you always do?”
“No! Wanna stay with Fizzy. Safe,” Blitz reiterated. He sat up in his chair and then leaned the other direction so that his head was once again on his friend’s shoulder. “Can stay with Fizzy?”
“Course you can,” Fizz replied. “You’re safe with me. We’re going to go back to my house and we’re going to have a really nice playdate together. Do you want me to call anyone and let them know where you’re going?”
It hurt to realize just how much of Blitz’s life he had missed when they were apart from each other. He knew why he had cut the other imp from his life so entirely, but that just made his anger for his boss and ex-mentor increase. He had been fed up with Mammon for a while now because he had been taking the business in another direction that Fizz didn’t really enjoy. He did a lot less shows and a lot more commercials and boring as fuck business meetings. He was glad that he had this to focus on now, though.
Blitz thought about it for a moment, knocking his horns into the back of the seat where he had hooked them over the headrest. “I don’t think so. Loonie doesn’t care,” he shrugged his shoulders.
“Is she your daughter?” Fizz asked carefully. He knew that sometimes when children were brought up around littles, especially their own children, it forced them out of their headspaces entirely.
“Uh huh. Adopted her from the pound, but she just yells at me,” Blitz frowned.
“Why does she yell at you?” Fizz pouted along with him. It was easier to get him to open up and talk about the way that he was feeling when the emotions he was feeling were mirrored on someone else.
“I touch her too much and tell her I love her too much,” Blitz shrugged. Fizz was able to tell that he was pulling out of his headspace and that was absolutely not what he had wanted.
“You can hug me and tell me that you love me as much as you want, little one,” he cooed. “Do you want to play when we get home or do you want to watch a show?”
It was easy to see the way that Blitz was dropping back down into his headspace, which filled Fizz with relief. He hadn’t taken care of a little entirely on his own in a long time, so he had been kind of worried that he was going to ruin everything with his inexperience. “I think I wanna play! Do you have horsie toys?” Blitz then gasped and his eyes shone with excitement, though Fizz noticed that one of them didn’t dilate or move as quickly as the other one did. He wondered how much his friend had been damaged from the fire and if he had been alone, in his headspace to deal with the trauma of that event. The only thing that he could do now was help him heal from this point onward, like it was a spit in the face to Cash for trying to keep them apart.
“Can you make Banana Pudding again! Or Worm Horse?” Blitz asked as he bounced up and down in his seat.
“You always made Worm Horse better than I did. Do you want to try and make balloon animals when we get back?” Fizz asked. He knew that he had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t sure that they were going to be usable after the heat of the fire that had almost consumed him.
“I think so,” Blitz nodded. He sat back in his seat and hummed to himself for the rest of the drive. He kicked his feet against the seat that he was in and the one in front of him while his fingers drew little designs on the window.
Using the distraction, Fizz snagged the burner phone from under the car that was driving them back to Lust. It was something that Ozzie had in all of their cars, just in case something like this was to happen to either one of them. He was able to text his partner to let him know that he had been kidnapped, but Blitz had saved him. Ozzie was very happy that he was okay and explained that Stolas had been arguing with the lawyer that the kidnappers had sent the entire time, though he had just wanted to burn the entire place down to the ground. Fizz said that he should have with a dozen hearts at the end of the message. He then had to tell the Sin that while they were in the car, Blitz had regressed and now Fizz was bringing him back to the palace so that he could care for him. Ozzie seemed to understand, but Fizz was still worried that the Sin was actually upset with him.
His worries were destroyed as soon as they arrived at the palace. He had taken Blitz’s hand and helped him out of the car so that they would walk up the high steps and into the foyer, away from the elements of the ring outside. Ozzie was waiting there with a massive smile on his face, “Welcome to my home, little one.”
“Why do you guys keep calling me that?” Blitz asked. It seemed like his age had finally settled out when they were in the car and he was now stuck around five or six. It meant that his words were a bit clearer and his sentences were structured far better, but he still had the cute little lisp that he had when they were actually aroaund that age.
“Little one? Because you’re small and cute. It’s what regressed people get called,” Fizz answered gently. “Do you not like it?”
“No, the mean bird man calls me that when he forces me out of my headspace. Don’t like being forced out of my headspace, it’s comfy in there,” Blitz pouted. He reached out and took Fizz’s hand, the one that wasn’t non-functional, and then leaned into his caregiver’s side.
“We need t ohave a conversation about Stolas and Blitz’s relationship after he’s down for a nap or playing by himself, Froggy,” Ozzie said, his voice still chipper and light. Fizz knew that there was something deeper going on behind that statement, though.
“Come on, Blitz. Let’s go get my arm fixed and then we can start playing!” he chirped.
The trio made their way into the exclusive elevator that went up to the penthouse apartment where Ozzie lived. Unlike the Morningstar Palace in Pride, the Lust castle was styled as a giant skyscraper with business and servant quarters down below the place where Ozzie lived on his own. It allowed him to have more privacy while still maintaing the staff and court presence that he was supposed to have as the ruler of a ring. They rode the elevator up to the penthouse and then stepped inside before the doors had a chance to close again.
Blitz tilted his head up and gasped as he looked at everything. “Woah!” he shouted as he rushed over to the window so that he could look at all the shimmering lights of the city below.
“You like what you see?” Fizz asked. He sat down on the couch and kept his eyes on the little as Ozzie undid the latches on the prosthetic and removed it. He left with the item and came back with a new one a couple of minutes later.
“Yeah! This is so cool,” Blitz said. “You can see everything from here! Woah, look at that,” he pointed his fingers towards one of the taller skyscrapers.
“I know, isn’t that one so pretty? Sometimes the colors change and you can actually watch it go from the bottom up to the top,” Fizz said. It was nice to have a bigger distraction than a single conversation with Ozzie while work was being done on his prosthetics. He knew that his partner did as much as he could to help him with the process, but there was only so much that he could do while he was also attaching the limb that Fizz needed to work and live.
“Do you think that we’re going to see that tonight?” Blitz asked.
“I think we might,” Fizz nodded. The limb snapped into place and he rose from the couch. “Do you think that you could sit with Ozzie for a while so I can go change and find you some little clothes to play in?”
“I don’t need little clothes,” Blitz said. His hands were squeezing the edges of his shirt with both of his hansd while he continued to stare out at the city out of the window. It was something that he had done while they were growing up whenever he refused something he wanted because he knew it was for the best. Fizz hated that they had grown up in the type of situation that had required that out of him, but he was happy that he was finally in the place where he could undo some of those issues.
“But do you want them? I already have them here so I can just bring them out and you can wear them while we play. It’s not like I’m buying anything for you so you don’t have to feel guilty,” Fizz explained.
Blitz thought about it for a moment before he gave his head a firm nod. “Yes, please, Rolly-Polly,” he said.
The nickname made Fizz smile so wide that the burn scars around his hairline ached. It was nice to know that they were already returning back to where they had been before Cash had decided that he was going to break them apart. Fizz was sure that the bastard had been getting a cut of the money he made Mammon, otherwise he would have continued to drive his son away simply by guilting him so that he could extort Blitz further. Blitz didn’t like Mammon so if the two of them would have been permitted to be together then Fizz never would have agreed to work for him in the first place.
He walked off while listening to Ozzie ask the little questions about the way that he liked to play and the kinds of things that he liked. Fizz changed out of the outfit that smelled of smoke and the dingy room that they had been held in. He washed his body off with a damp cloth as quickly as he could before he dressed in something comfortable to hang out in. He set out a couple of outfits on the guest room sofa and then called Blitz and Ozzie to come for him.
When the little arrived in the door, his eyes widened with excitement. He walked over to the outfits and examined them closely before he picked the one in the middle that Fizz had expected him to go for. It was a blue dungaree set with a white and orange stripped shirt underenath, something very reminiscent of what the cowboys on earth would wear but for a little. “Do you need help putting it on or do you think that you can do it yourself?” he asked carefully.
Blitz thought about it before he said, “I’m a big boy! I can do it on my own!”
“Okay, you can call me if you need any help and we’ll come right back for you,” Fizz promised. He and Ozzie stepped out into the hallway so that Blitz had the privacy that he needed to change. The two of them had a quiet conversation about what Stolas had come to ask Ozzie about and the fact that he shouldn’t be trusted around the little until they got confirmation that he wasn’t being sexual with someone down in their headspace. The Goetia had been known to reject those headspaces and pretend as though they didn’t exist as a way to keep their women specifically in place, so it was possible he had been doing horrific things to their little. Fizz knew that had contributed to why Blitz had absolutely refused to go down into his headspace when they were in the car until Blitz had reassured him over and over again that he would be safe.
The door opened five minutes later with the little revealing himself. His old clothes were laying in a pile on the floor of the guest room and the straps for the overalls were crossed the wrong direction.
“You look just like a real cowboy in training!” Fizz informed him as he naturally undid the clips and then swapped them to where they belonged. “Do you want to come play with me in the living room?”
“Yeah! Worm Horse!” Blitz said as he ran down the hallway back to the living room. Fizz smiled after them and felt his heart swell adoringly in his chest. He hadn’t had a little of his own in his entire life, but he was beginning to think that was because the Saints of Hell had been waiting to bring him and Blitz back together. He had expected to be Blitz’s caregiver when they were classified but hadn’t been, not until that moment.
[★] "i'm just ... so tired ... ..." and then they let you rest in their arms ,,
maybe something following your original post with little!john seeking out crank for comfort after daddy!gale explains to him that crank's a safe person he can go to when he's not there. <3
ooohhh my goodness this is so sweet. crank is a good buddy. reference post.
—
“Hey Bucky, you okay?”
Crank looked up from where he was laying, eyes falling to John where he'd been lingering by his bunk for the past few seconds. He'd been asleep just a minute ago, what everyone was hoping wasn't the beginning of a cold making him the first to crash out the past few nights.
When he rubbed his eyes with one hand Crank could see he was holding something in one fist, squinting to figure out what it was.
Oh. He thought when he realized it was one of the small wooden animals he'd seen Gale working on in his bunk last week. He'd asked about it then and the other man was cagey- chewing on his lip and telling him not to go talking to the other guys about it when he halfway explained.
And he'd be a liar if he said he understood. But the stalag was a stalag. They'd all cobbled together their own ways of coping- he sure as shit wasn't about to judge anyone else's.
“Buck’s," John started, rocking on one heel back and forth where he stood. "He's gone.”
He turned his head back to look towards Buck's bunk and then back at Crank, breathing a little quicker.
“Yeah," Crank started. "But he'll be back soon, just had to go talk to the doctor about something."
About you, he left out.
John hummed, sucking and unsucking in one side of his cheek. “Didn’t tell me.” He said, flat. “When- y' know when he's coming back?”
Crank tried to keep his voice gentle, sitting up more so he could scoot a little closer on the edge of his mattress.
“Soon, I think.”
It didn't come as any surprise that John didn't seem to think that answer was good enough. He didn't move from where he was standing excepting to brace one hand against the bed frame, biting on his bottom lip as it shook. Even in the dark, Crank could tell he was close to tears. Could hear it when he took a shuddering breath in and out.
“Hey- Bucky come down here," He said and tapped the side of his knee where he was standing. John looked bewildered for a second but listened, ducking down to squeeze into the bunk next to him. It looked like he was trying to keep his distance as much as he could in the small space, sitting against the end of the bed where Crank's feet were.
“Just really- really tired.” He said after a beat, rubbing his eyes “Needta’- don’t wanna be a baby- don’t, ‘m sorry,”
“Not being a baby,” Crank said, giving his knee a little pat. “Lay down and try to get some more sleep, okay? I'll get you up when Buck's back.”
John sniffled when he nodded but went along with it all the same, laying down and shuffling around till he seemed to find a comfortable enough. Back up against the wall and curled up as much as someone as tall as him could be, he dropped his head against the side of Crank's chest.
"You tryin' to steal Gale's thunder?"
Crank lifted his head a bit when he heard Brady whispering across the way spotting him having stopped just short of getting into his Benny's bunk.
"Don't be jealous," He mouthed, and got himself an eyeroll in return.
trophy room trophy room !!! <- kept meaning 2 ask an then. forgor HF
Tw child death tw cannibalism tw SATURN'S FUCKED IN THE HEAD.
Saturn has convvwerted his childhood bedroom into a trophy room. And by trophy room I mean it's full of taxidermied dead wwvigglers.
There's a clear Ladder Of Favvworitism there. The ones that wwvere just... normal hunts, nothing special, or near growwvn are just wwvall mounts.
There's hard mount posed ones that came from the more challenging ones, the ones that annoyed him, forevvwer frozen in play, or scribbling on paper, or wwvhatevvwer children that had normal free time do, he guesses.
But his FAVVWORITES? The barely out of grub hood ones, the Almost Escaped Him ones, the Fun Ones, The Cute Ones, The Ones that just sat there and sniffed and cried?
Those are soft mounted, so he can actually Touch Them. Movvwe them around the room, hold them, carry them around, dress them up.
Like dolls, Korrie reckons wwvhen she's trying to clean in there. Like dolls, toys, playmates that can't leavvwe, friends Siteka can't scare off.
The room itself looks different from wwvhen he slept in there. Back then, there wwvere just four blank wwvalls and a coon in the corner. Nothing else. Nothing at all.
Nowwv? The wwvalls are painted in pastels and patterns, pinstripes wwvith seahorses betwwveen them, decorated wwvith vvwarious things, pinned drawwvings or scribbles on the wwvallpaper itself, hanging decorations. There's toys, plush and hard, scattered around the room like the children inside are tossing and trading them. There's glowwv in the dark stars on the ceiling, and paper stars dangling from fairy lights.
There's a plush carpet nowwv, and a pile of cushions and throwwv pillowwvs wwvhere the coon once wwvas. A sleep ovvwer that nevvwer ends, Kathri tells her once, vvwisibly sickened.
He has favvworite Dolls, btw. He's named them all.
Mama I'm scared. Mama. I want to go home and I want kitty to be okay and safe and not sick anymore. I don't want everyone to cry. Please. Keep my kitty safe she doesn't deserve this she was such a good kitty I'm not ready to say good bye.
