I Love Going To Far To The Left, And Being Able To See A Picture Of My Cat Thanks To My Widgets. Tumblr

lpso harmony the dancing dog

Pickles

King of Comedy

Hands I drew in history class

This is my first time studying anatomy so I’m glad it turned out well

I’d love to play Minecraft with them omg

The "Tomura is a temperamental man child" misconception drives me wild because everyone thinks he'd like all the violent video games but I think he just likes the challenging ones. He wants to have to strategize, he wants to be forced to think. He loves the soulsborne games. I just know he loves challengesouls shit and frustration only pushes him to get good.

Spinner on the other hand gets so fucking angry he throws shit, and he doesn't want to get angry and throw shit, so he avoids games like that.

They both like Stardew Valley and Minecraft because they're losers. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

Lost but Loved, Forever and Always

Don't be alarmed by the title, no one dies in this fic.

I wanted to do this for quite a while. Prismo has been constantly comforting Scarab. It's time for Scarab to return the favor. We're talking about Jake tonight.

And, this is my own catharsis. I've had more death and health scares in my close family in the past 3 years than I have my entire life. So... this is to them, I guess.

So... yeah. Enjoy you guys.

TW: Suicidal Ideation and Alcohol Abuse

Word Count: 2,700

Prismo was missing.

This was a new worry for Scarab. He was usually the one to disappear into the Time Room's lower chambers, usually to recuperate his aching shoulders.

But it was Prismo missing today. Scarab hadn't seen the Wishmaster nearly all day, not since the one wish maker wandered in. Even then, Scarab's companion seemed very... withdrawn. Quieter than he'd ever seen him, at least not since before Fionna and Cake.

Prismo's energy had been draining out of his spirit over the past few days. He started going quiet at random intervals, with seemingly no trigger.

Scarab was fretting.

He was not used to fretting. Prismo always seemed... untouchable, emotionally speaking. Unflappable in the face of it all, always a lazy sort of happiness radiating off of him. But... this was not anything the beetle was used to.

He wondered if he should search for Prismo... The Wishmaster had gone looking for him more than once, he should return the favor. But what if he didn't want to be found?

Hmm...

Maybe he'd go find Prismo, then back off if he wasn't wanted. Yes, that sounded like a decent plan.

He closed off to entrances to the Time Room for now and scuttled down into the basement.

Okay, where to look... Scarab's first thought was the pickle room, maybe he was just working on a new recipe? It wouldn't explain the melancholy, but it was a start.

So, to the pickle room Scarab wandered. He idly thought about how well he knew his way around this section of the Time Room now. Oh, how himself from a year ago would have cringed...

Okay, pickle room is empty. No evidence of it being used.

Come on Scarab, you're an Auditor. You've tracked down things that could teleport across the multiverse. You can find one messy Wishmaster who can't leave the Time Room.

He took another look around. There had to be something, anything in here...

Wait, there!

There was a missing jar from the shelf, a trail of brine on the floor. Bingo.

Scarab followed the trail, the faint smell of alcohol slowly seeping into the air. Or, maybe it was stronger, but he couldn't tell. Either way it was... concerning.

"Prismo...?"

Hmm...

He doesn't recall coming this way before. The walls of the Time Room seemed to be coming more unstable the further he searched. Walls with random notches in them, the floor becoming trickier to navigate, drop offs appearing suddenly, walls sliding into each other.

Wait a moment...

Wait, this was familiar. This was where the chase for the Crossovers ended in the Time Room.

Which means...

Scarab found himself staring at Prismo. Both forms.

Prismo, the Wishmaster, staring down numbly at Prismo, the Dreamer.

"...Prismo...?"

Prismo looked terrible, for lack of a better word. He looked tired. Scarab wasn't sure how a dream could look tired, and yet, here he was. He looked... empty. Just staring blankly at his own body, slowly drifting up to Scarab. And, even with his own crippled sense of smell, Scarab was smacked in the face by the harsh smell of alcohol and vinegar. There was a half tipped over pickle jar in the corner.

"...hey..." he murmured. Just like his gaze, his voice was... empty. He said nothing else, drifting his gaze back to his sleeping body. He took a silent swig from a bottle.

"Uhm... What are you doing down here...?"

"...Thinking."

Scarab made a few tentative steps closer to his partner.

"What about?"

Prismo remained silent.

"Prismo...?"

"...You... wouldn't get it."

"I wouldn't?"

"You don't... talk to people. Talk to mortals." His voice sounded wobbling, his voice trailing up and down. Drunk. Prismo was drunk.

Scarab had never seen the Wishmaster... drunk. Tipsy on Star Punch. Maybe a bit too loud and cuddly after a game night with the guys. But this was just... sad.

"You're right, I don't talk to mortals. But that wasn't what I was asking. I was asking what you were thinking about."

Prismo didn't look up. It was honestly making Scarab nervous.

"...You ever think about how long immortality is...? Like... compared to the shorts that pass by upstairs everyday?"

Scarab blinked, pondering.

"I do, sometimes. It's... inevitable with beings like us."

"Hmm... Beings like us..." Prismo sighed blinking tiredly. "They're like... like a blink... Like a spark and then they're gone..."

"I suppose..."

"...Why am I still... here, Scarab? Like... I'm what, hundreds of thousands of years old? I think that's too long, don't you? I died at some point... I sometimes... wonder if I should've stayed that way."

Scarab felt his chest seize, suddenly also very fixated on Prismo's sleeping body. He... he wouldn't right...?

"I... I'm thankful that you are still here, Prismo... More so than you might think..."

"Hmm..."

Prismo took another drink.

"...I'm only alive because of a mortal..."

"Really now...?"

"Yeah. It was... well, super off the books. Wasn't even pinged by the Organizer... Not supposed to get involved with mortals and all that junk... But... well, he was one of my best friends... and... well, that's all I've got left of him."

Scarab gave him a confused look, approaching Prismo's body. It was unnerving, seeing the warm, soft old man the beetle loved so fondly being so still and silent... Wait, was that... fur?

Yes, right there, at the edges of the beard and hair were little whisps of yellow dog fur.

"What on Glob...?"

"Yeah... I got killed, and he helped me with my backup plan. Long story. Complicated. But, a copy of him became... me. It's his dream and memory of me keeping me alive. And... well, the original passed away. A while ago. And... Well, this is all I have left of him. Just... staring at him, looking like me, but that's not even really me..."

Prismo was spiraling. Scarab could hear it in his voice, he was spiraling.

"Prismo-"

"And what was it for? He's... He's stuck here or he's dead or he's a monster or whatever else, and for what? For... me? For everybody's pal Prismo. What a joke."

"Love, what-"

"I got nothing, Scarab. I've tried to have something. But... what do I have to show for it? The banjo? Fucking pickles? A hot tub? I got nothing."

"Prismo" Scarab hissed, sternly, gripping his upper arm, stopping Prismo's spiral.

"Prismo... how long have you... thought about this?"

"...I dunno, man. It comes and goes again..."

"Prismo. You know I, and many others, would be... heartbroken if you disappeared. Many were the first time. Even when I had my grudge, I felt... empty when you vanished."

"I... I know, I guess... Maybe that's why I haven't... done anything. Not yet, at least..."

Scarab warbled, nudging his head against Prismo's shoulder.

"...I might not know much about your... mortal friend... but I don't think he'd want you... wallowing like this."

"Oh, what do you know" Prismo snapped, startling Scarab. "You don't know him! You don't know how this feels!" His eyes flashed purple, a black color pulsing through his whole body before returning to normal.

Scarab took a few frightened steps back, looking up at the Wishmaster with wide, uncertain eyes.

Prismo's eyes sparked with immediate regret. He looked at the bottle, then back to Scarab. He groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I just... I don't know how to be when I'm like this... I've... I've never felt like this before Jake... I don't know man..."

Scarab chirped out a soft sigh, feeling emboldened to come closer. "...It is not exact, but... I do know a bit of what you're feeling, Prismo..."

"...You do?"

"Mhm. So. How about this. You tell me about this... Jake. And I'll tell you about Cricket. We'll mourn together."

Prismo seemed to be considering.

"...Can we... stay here with him...?"

"If that's what you'd like, love. But let's not loom over him, okay?" Scarab gently tugged Prismo's arm. And he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when the Wishmaster allowed to be tugged. The beetle retireved the pickle jar, and the two sat down, leaning against each other.

"So... Jake?"

"Yeah... Jake the Dog."

"...How'd you two meet?"

"A wish. His brother, Finn, they were chasing their universe's version of the Lich into my Time Room. The Lich wished for the end of all life, and I granted it. Finn wished for the Lich to have never existed. They both got warped to their new realities. And then there was Jake..."

Scarab tilted his head. He'd heard of the Lich. One of those beings he'd have liked to take in, but couldn't. Vital to reality and all that nonsense. He didn't know Prismo met him before the incident with the Citadel.

"Jake... Well, I think he was in shock or something. He... seemed confused. Didn't know what to do, what to wish for. He nearly wished for a sandwich, but I talked him out of it. Like, I could just make a sandwich, no need to waste your one and only wish on it. So... we just hung out. We watched Finn's wish altered reality for a while, and we talked. Mortals never really... stick around long enough to talk. To know me as anything other than 'Almighty Prismo.' He chilled with Cosmic Owl and me. He had some of my pickles, said they reminded him of his dad. And I just... couldn't stop smiling. Some... some human part of me hoped he'd never make a wish, just so he could stay..."

Scarab could hear Prismo's voice shaking, so he pressed his head against his upper arm and nuzzled, chirping quietly.

"But... Something in Finn's wish reality started going wrong... He started to panic. I... I definitely broke protocol on this but I talked him through his wish. The wish that would make things go back to somewhat normal, and he was gone. I sent him some pickles, invited him back, but... Well, I never thought he would. No one just comes back to the Time Room, not unless you're a god. He got his wish, why would he want to come back? But... he did. Again. And again. And again and again."

Scarab wrapped around Prismo's arm, nuzzling softly as the Wishmaster sounded on the verge of weeping.

"He became one of my best friends. He was... something special. He'd level with me like a person. He didn't have this... weird, distant respect that everyone first comes at me with. He treated me like a person and... well, that was special to me. More so than I ever really noticed... not until he was gone for good.

"When the Lich killed my human body, Jake was the one who volunteered to help bring me back. That's him, sleeping in the bed. It's him keeping me alive. And... I don't know, I don't know how I could possibly repay him for that... I can't just bring him back to life, he belongs to Death now... and I don't think he'd want it. He's on the highest Deathworld, and he deserves to be there. I'm not gonna take him away from paradise just for my sake..."

Prismo trailed off. Scarab assumed he was done talking now, as he gently massaged the Wishmaster's arm.

"Thank you for telling me, Prismo. He does sound special. And I'm sorry you have lost that."

"...I can't talk to the others about it... They'd just say I was stupid. It is stupid, getting that attached to a mortal like that. So... you're the first person I've told, I guess."

"Is this... Finn still around?"

"I think so... Humans live a lot longer than dogs. I see him on the screen wall every once in a while."

"Have you thought to talk to him? I'm certain he's mourning Jake just the same as you. It might be nice to share memories of him."

"I dunno... I don't know if my heart could take it if I got attached to Finn..."

"Hmm... That's understandable, I suppose..." He reached up, gently rubbing away the tears from Prismo's cheek, nuzzling it lightly, even trying his best to kiss it.

"So... Who's Cricket?"

Scarab hummed. Time to hold his end of the deal, yeah?

"Well... My situation with Cricket doesn't align exactly with yours... I knew Cricket from when I was still mortal, rather than meeting them in the middle of eternity. But... well, they were my best friend."

Prismo's eyes widened at that.

"Cricket and I were neighbors, in the mounds. You tend to bond pretty quickly with those burrows around you, but Cricket was my first and best friend when we emerged. They farmed mushrooms while I patrolled. Our routines would have us pass by each other a few times a day, and we'd both get into heaps of trouble for slacking off to chat."

Scarab chuckled at the memory, trying to picture Cricket's face... Glob it's been so long...

"I told them everything. We told each other everything. What we thought about our other friends, who we thought we fancied, what might've been up in the stars, all of it. Thinking back, they actually remind me of you, in a lot of ways. They had this... magnetism about them, it made it easy to talk to them, they were charming and relaxed in ways I wasn't. I... I suspect, if my life turned out simpler, we could've been mates."

Prismo gulped at that, leaning down to listen.

"But... well, then I saw the mouth in the void. They helped me research, they helped me train, they helped me get that audience with the Pantheon. They gave me a crushing hug when I went to go fight. And they were the last I spoke to when I ascended. I promised I'd come back for them someday..."

Scarab rubbed his mandibles together, hesitating.

"I... I've said I haven't seen my home since then. But... that was a bit of a lie. I did go back, once. But... I hadn't realized how much time had passed between me leaving and coming home. What felt like, maybe 5 years to me was... almost 70 for them. Eternity messes with your sense of time like that. I never saw Cricket again. It's been so long; I feel guilty I can't clearly remember their face... I remember a few things, though... they had a deep blue shell, their antenna were long and curled, they laughed loud enough to get neighbors to complain about our late nights... But I can't remember their face. Not clearly anyway."

Scarab sighed, leaning into Prismo's open arm.

"...Does it ever get easier" Prismo whispered. "Knowing you've lose someone that important...?"

"...I'm not sure if easier is the right word... It never really stops hurting, when you think about it. But... it becomes a part of you. A part that prickles and catches you off guard sometimes, but a part of you none the less. You eventually evolve the hurt. The hurt mixes with everything else you felt about them. The hurt of the loss blurs together with the warmth of memories."

"Oh..."

There was a long silence, as Prismo looked between the body sleeping on the pedestal, and the drink in his hand. He gently set it down.

"...I might not know much about Jake. But I can tell he was special. It's okay to feel that hurt when you lose someone special. But... don't let it drown the warmth you felt with them. Remember them. The hurt just... tells you how much they were loved."

Scarab felt the tingle of light as Prismo wrapped around him completely. He could feel the Wishmaster's chest struggling to heave. The beetle shushed him softly, petting his talons against what he could reach.

"...One second" Scarab whispered. He conjured both himself and Prismo a small glass of Star Punch. He picked his up. "A toast. To Jake."

Prismo blinked wetly, a shaky hand reaching for his glass. "To Jake. And to Cricket."

"To Jake and Cricket. Lost, but loved, forever and always."

The two clinked glasses and took their drink.

Scarab knew talking about this would bubble up old emotions. That cloyingly harsh coldness, fighting with an aching warmth. Thinking too long about his home did that, sometimes.

But, it was worth it. Worth it to remember his friend. Worth it to bring some comfort to his partner. Worth it to bring some light onto the peacefully sleeping body across the room.

Lost, but loved.

Forever and always.

Hmmm maybe Amophous Shape, and a bit of Pyronica?

I’m listening to all my favorite artists songs again. So that way I can double check that I like all their songs. I’m listening to new songs, songs I’m unsure about, remixes, and covers. Here’s some remixes I just listened to today that I love

Happy Halloween from The Birthday Massacre (art by Owen)

✨reblog if you're accepting anonymous asks about anything✨

Wrath of the Wishmaster

You asked, you shall receive.

Thanks for helping me clear my writer's block. I might write more scenes that happened prior to this, but enjoy what's here for now! Might post to AO3 later, who knows?

Enjoy babes!

Word count: 2,500

There were many things Scarab did not understand about the Wishmaster, Prismo.  Many… Many things.

Why did an all powerful being decide to spend its eternity making pickles and writing fan fiction of the universes he observed?  Why, of all things to add to the featureless Time Cube, was there a hot tub?

And why, above all, did he tolerate all of Scarab's... strangeness?

Because no one liked bugs.

That was the lesson Scarab had learned in his eons of existence.

No one liked bugs.  At least, not the kind of bug he was.

Of course, people like butterflies.  They liked to watch the pretty and dainty little things as they flutter along.  But only from a distance.  People still recoiled if they got a good look at their face.  Or anything that reminded them that they’re bugs, and not just living little splashes of color.

And Scarab was no butterfly.

He was a beetle.  Was?  Is?  He wasn’t sure anymore.  So much of himself had changed since he first emerged from his burrow.

And yet, there was Prismo, calling his little chirps and trills "cute." Encouraging him to find places in the Time Room to burrow and hide and crawl.

There was Prismo, who didn't recoil at the site of his real face. Who saw his strange mouth and eyes and decided to kiss it all over, rather than hide it behind his mask again.

So no, he did not understand many of how Prismo operated. But Scarab was not about to complain. He felt more alive in his own shell than he has in eons. He kept his mask off more often than on these days. His hidden arms had seen more exercise than ever before. He was starting to remember the strange language of chirps and trills and buzzes from his old home.

Of course, there were still bad days. Days where he had to sit still and stare at something stationary just to remember what direction was up. Days where he crawled away into one of his hidden nooks to tremble out of sight.

He had been reluctant to let Prismo in on those days, at first. He held up walls and scooted away and flinched enough to get the Wishmaster to back off for quite a while.

But, as he came back into contact with himself, and as Prismo called him beautiful and quirky, rather than disgusting and unsettling, the walls came down.

He wasn't ready to tell him what happened to his antenna and wings. But, Prismo was at least there to turn the screen wall to something calming. Or to rub his aching back and shoulders on days where he could do little else but shake.

It was... nice. He hesitated to call it wonderful, but it really was. Much better than a bug deserved, but he was not about to remind Prismo of that.

No, he had Orbo to do that for him.

He knew he had grown far too comfortable with Prismo when he heard the orb roll into the Time Room, loudly calling for his buddy the Wishmaster. Who was not currently there, but instead tending to his pickles for the moment. He trusted Scarab to watch the main room for any wishers, which he had been doing diligently from his perch on the ceiling.

Scarab froze, stuck to the ceiling like he was pinned there.

Maybe if I don't move, he won't notice I'm here.

It was a nice thought. But when had the universe been nice to him before?

"Uhm... Scarab? Mate? Whatcha doing up there? I thought we cleared up a while back that that creeped people out."

Scarab stayed silent as he crawled back down the wall. He ignored the way Orbo visibly shivered at his method of locomotion, standing at attention once his feet touched the floor.

He unconsciously made a nervous, light buzzing sound, his mouth parts clicking together as the orb stared at him like a disection project.

"So, what's all this then? You think just because Prismo's not here, you can do whatever you want? I thought we talked about this forever ago, Scrabs. You might be just a bug, but you got raised to the pantheon. You gotta act like it."

Orbo rolled to look around the Time Room. Scarab reached gingerly for the remote, trying to alert Prismo to their visitor.

"Seriously, I still feel bad enough for Prismo to get stuck looking at you when you were at your best. If he's stuck with you, it's the least you could do to not creep the guy out. That's not how you show appreciation, Scrabs."

Scarab tried to tune it out. He wasn't creepy, not to Prismo, Prismo called him beautiful, insect traits and all. Orbo swung around to look at him, now noticing his face.

"Where's your mask, man? No one wants to see the horror show your kind calls a mouth. It's bad enough when we have to watch you eat, you can at least put the rest of it away."

Scarab felt small. Tiny. Just like he did when he first met Orbo, who took one look at him, and decided he wasn't meant for the glittery Judgement Hall. He barely even noticed when he shuffled the plates back over his face.

"Much better. So, where's Prismo then? Not like I came all this way to talk to you, right?"

Orbo laughed. Scarab didn't. He just kept his eyes trained to the floor, still quietly chirping to steady his nerves. His world started to feel tilted. What he wouldn't do for his cane right now.

"Cut it with the noise, mate. It's like you've forgotten you're a god or something. You want to go back to the dirt? Is that it? I can talk to Boss for you, if that's what you want."

"...No. That won't be necessary."

"That's what I thought. Now, where in Glob's name- Oh, Prismo! Buddy, there you are!"

Scarab didn't look up to acknowledge the Wishmaster's presence. He felt so tiny. Just like a gross little bug pinned to the wall.

"...What are you doing here, Orbo?"

That made Scarab look up. Prismo's tone. All the warmth had been sucked out of his voice. There was an edge to it. One that the beetle had never heard before, not even during the whole Fionna and Cake disaster.

"Aw, mate, can't I just come check on my good buddy? It's been ages since your last party, man. Us at the office are just itching to groove again. We'd love to see you!"

Prismo's expression was unreadable. Scarab wasn't used to not being able to read the Wishmaster, he was usually an open book. The blue eye shifted between Orbo and Scarab subtly.

"Just haven't been in the partying mood, Orbo. I've been having some friends over for board games, I guess, but I'm not planning on a party any time soon."

The star core seemed to catch Prismo's shifting glance, turning his attention back to Scarab. The beetle stood ramrod straight. Partially to not draw attention to himself and partially to prevent his body from shaking on uncertain legs.

"Oh. Prismo, buddy, why didn't you say anything sooner?" Orbo rolled back over to Scarab, smirking.

"Say what sooner?"

"That this dude was killing the vibe in here! I mean, I totally get it, I wouldn't want a party either if that was lurking in my place somewhere."

Prismo's expression hardened.

"Scarab's not 'killing the vibe' Orbo. He's been nice to have around, he plays board games with me, Cos, and Death."

Orbo rolled his eyes.

"Prismo, you're cool. You don't have to keep it quiet for his sake. Just say the word and I'll find something else to do with him. It's not the first time he failed to learn a lesson."

"I'm not keeping anything quiet. I like having him around. He's actually pretty cool when he's got the space outside of work, and you're being, like, really uncool, Orbo."

Scarab was stunned. He'd been the only one to ever really talk back to Orbo. He'd never expect someone to do it on his behalf.

"What? Me, uncool? Pris, c'mon, mate. You're allowed to say he's creepy, we all know it. He's a bug. You know, those little creepy crawlies? I thought I trained most of the creepy stuff out of him by now. I know you're everybody's buddy, but you really need to make sure the lesson stays in his head if you don't want him weirding you out. Like, I came in here and he was on the ceiling! Looked like a ghost or something. And without his mask! I thought I made it clear his face is a horror show. Thank Glob I got him to put it back on before you had to see it, bud. It's a real doozy, I'll tell ya."

The beetle wasn't looking at Orbo anymore. No, he was watching the growing horror on Prismo's face. Horror not directed at him for once.

"Dude, Scarab's not that bad. A bit uptight when he's stressed, but still a pretty cool dude. Why should he have to hide so much? This is the Time Room, you're supposed to relax in here."

"Oh, Prismo, you sweet dream child. Scarab's not cool. He's not like us, you know?"

"Like us?"

"Buddy, you're the dream of one of the greatest living wizards in the multiverse! I'm the core of a collapsed magic star! That's where gods like us are supposed to come from! Scarab though? He's just a bug. A creepy crawly cockroach that somehow made it up from the dirt he's meant for."

"Didn't he manage to take down a galactic level threat that you couldn't catch?"

"He got lucky." Orbo looked annoyed. That usually ended well for no one. "Knew I should've finished his punishment before he came here..."

"I thought this was his punishment."

"Oh, no, I'm talking about his punishment for trying to start a revolt. Went over my head to the Boss! All over that nonsense with that unauthorized universe of yours. I was gonna take his legs. Maybe should've pulled out his other arms as well. I still can, if you wanted me to, mate."

The silence in the Time Room was deafening. Scarab has seen a lot of expressions on the Wishmaster's face. Contentment, sadness, boredom, amusement, joy, frustration, all of it.

But he had never seen rage. Not until now, anyway.

"What?"

Orbo seemed to completely miss the change in atmosphere, as he carried on just as before. "Oh yeah, it seems to be the only way he actually learns. Thought the antenna would be enough, but nooo, Mr. Buggy Bigshot still thought himself better. I really thought the thing with the wings would've gotten through to him, but I guess not."

The lights in the Time Room went out. Not even the stars from the void outside shed much light into the cube. Scarab never thought he'd miss the sickeningly bright yellow of the Time Cube, but he's permanently paint his shell its color if it would turn the lights back on.

"You. Did. WHAT?"

There was a guttural hiss coming from where Prismo once was. Blue what replaced by a bright purplish pink, staring down at Orbo and Scarab. A friendly smile was replaced with jagged teeth. Fingers replaced with claws. And a growl rumbled through the cube.

Scarab didn't think. Just acted. He opened himself a passage into the lower levels of the Time Room, scurrying in as fast as his legs could carry him. He could faintly hear Orbo yelling after him, but he ignored it completely. The adrenaline let him ignore the pain, ignore the feeling of constantly tipping over. All his instincts told him was run and hide.

He crammed himself into one of his many makeshift burrows, backing as far into the hole as possible.

Prismo was angry, he knew that much. Anger meant pain. Anger meant he'd lose another piece of himself. What would it be this time, he wondered.

It didn't matter he knew Prismo would never hurt him. It didn't matter he knew he probably couldn't be hurt like that while in this form. All he knew was to curl up and hide.

And so he did.

He shook, in fear and pain, and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. But he didn't dare come out of his cubby.

So he waited.

He didn't know how long it was until he felt the familiar tingle of light against his back. He flinched, a frightened trill falling unwillingly from his throat.

"...Scarab? Sweetheart, are you there?"

...At least he sounded like Prismo again...

"...Yes... Yes, I'm here."

"Good, good. I... I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I don't like what I am when I'm like that but... What Orbo was saying... Your wings..."

Scarab felt his elytra twitch under Prismo's touch. The ragged scraps of wings shivered as well, as the beetle sighed out a soft little chirp.

"...It is the way of things, Prismo... Orbo is not the only one with thoughts like that. It's what I've been taught for eons. No one likes bugs, after all."

There was a long silence after that. Prismo was looking at him with a sad calmness. He reached his other arm into the hole, petting a hand over the parts of his face he could reach under the mask. The bug shivered pitifully into the touch, trying and failing to resist the urge to lean into it.

"...You deserve better, Scrabby."

That's what did it. That's what broke the dam.

Scarab wept into Prismo's hand, shaking hard enough to make his carapace rattle.

"Shh... It's okay, honey... Can you come out here?"

It was slow. Almost painfully so. But he managed to peek his head out of his hiding spot. The Wishmaster gave him a kind smile, if not a sad one.

"Can you let me see you, beautiful?"

Scarab hesitated. Orbo's words echoed in his head, loudly, cruelly.

"...I'm not pleasant to look at, Prismo... Much less beautiful..."

"Nope. Not true, Scrabby. C'mon. Let me see that pretty face of yours."

"Prismo..."

"Please, Scarab?"

The beetle sighed. His face plates shivered again, tucking behind his head. His eyes stared, wide and wet at the Wishmaster. A soft kiss was planted on his forehead.

"There we go. Much better."

Scarab refused to start bawling again. Instead, he climbed the rest of the way out of his burrow to curl against Prismo's chest.

"You don't have to worry about Orbo anymore, by the way. He won't be coming back. Not for a few eons, at least."

Scarab didn't choose to question it. Not right now at least. Instead, he closed his eyes as Prismo's hand pet gently over his aching back, the beetle unconsciously opening up the elytra. The dream's hands were always careful when working around his sorry wings. They made the ache go away.

Scarab began chirping. Softly, at first. But it slowly grew, morphing into a simple, but filling cricket song. He heard Prismo softly join in with a light humming.

He might've been just a bug.

But it turns out at least one person likes bugs after all.