Welcome to self indulgent heaven [HIATUS]

You were a royal guard, assigned to keeping watch over and training the Pure Vessel.

It took you a bit to notice, because of how well they hid it, that they were not, in fact, pure.

Soon your training sessions and moments alone became silent times of comfort.

Though they did not speak you grew to understand the gist of what was happening, why they were like this.

Carefully, quietly, you would hold their hand, hug them, be ever so gentle with them.

Always on alert, you would allow them their mind, their space to breath.

As they had little else, they clung to this.

They fell, hard and fast for you.

But their ages of training, steeling themself to be nothing but a shell, a vessel, made all their feelings impossible.

They could never tell you, even if they wanted to.

You both could tell as the guards became more scarce.

Each one taken by infection.

The king disappeared longer and longer each day.

The queen grew distant.

You were their only refuge.

They almost wanted to beg you to take them away from the palace.

They wanted to run, but they never felt more than the faint urge.

Eventually, you caught the infection.

You didn't want to tell them, in fear that they'd be harmed.

You knew that you would do the damage.

And so they waited.

And waited.

Dearest Y/n,

Before anything else, I do not know if this will get to you. I do not know if this will ever make it out of my quarters, much less the palace in whole. I do not know if there is a single soul here I trust to deliver this without question.

And now, I write.

Y/n. You have been gone for a long time. I've not a clue where you are and have no ability to gain this knowledge. This palace feels lonely without you here to laugh. To understand me. To trust me.

The King never exits his workshop anymore, entrusting my last week's of supervision to plain guards that leave me standing silent and alone in favor of entertainment. The Queen left not long after you vanished.

I do not know what to do without you. I do not know if I am without you. I miss you dearly. I do not know when the King plans to finish with me. I fear it is soon.

He told me I am not to think, not to feel, not to have voice. But I failed long ago.

You are the only one who believes in me, Y/n.

I love you

Best of wishes,

Hornet

Her favorite thing about you is your hair. She loves the strange, strong strands of fiber that stretch from your already adored head. It's lovely to her. Often, when you are together, you'll find her nimble, scarred didgets dancing themselves along your scalp. Carefully picking through any tangle and small sifference she feels.

Sometimes, she'll just look at you, holding your strange, soft face between a pair of her hands just to gaze at your every detail. Her other pair twirling in the hair that reminds her almost of webbing.

Of course, she's still always stunned whenever you plant a soft kiss upon the end of her mask.

Hollow

Their favorite thing about you is your warmth. How soft and delicate you feel beside them. You're squishy, and strange, even in comparison to their hulking, void form. They love to hold you and feel your heat move against their cold carapace. Even with just one arm they can just pick you up and carry you. They're ginormous, and they love how small you are in comparison.

They tend to simply grab you randomly, sitting down somewhere and hugging you tight into their embrace. Vibrating and silently purring against your form. You often jokingly struggle against their loving trap, but flop and relax into them. They love how your body rises and falls with your breath. They'll nuzzle into your head and neck as they cuddle you to death.

It always sends a nice shiver through them when you trace your careful hands over their horns.

Grimm

His favorite thing about you is your heart. Most creatures he's encountered have a heart rate, of course, but most creatures' heart rate is far to fast to hear nor feel. It's unsettling to him. This is why he loves yours. It has a steady, rhythmic pulse, pumping in your chest. The first moment he encountered you he could hear it, loud and clear. He nearly mistaked it for his own heart with how resounding it was. Now, he tends to keep a hand on you at all times, simply to feel the small tremors it sends through you. You can't feel those tremors, but he does and he adores them.

Now, you both tend to calmly press a hand to each others chests, feeling each other's pulse. He loves how yours seems to jump so quickly, and how it races whenever he gets a bit closer. His own twin hearts drum beneath his carapace, one his own and the other belonging to a nightmare. It's peaceful to simply sit there and feel, warmth radiating from him.