#but also maybe eldritch monster teeth OR maybe we can push this in that

[gallusrostromegalus]

So how eldritch can we expect your version of Hollows to be? Because if there's one thing I take joy from the various fandoms you stick your fingies into is the extremely enjoyable (cursed) way you describe the gods/monsters

I'm definitely looking forward to all these Bleach shenanigans~ :3

Have a Sample:

*

He doesn't sleep.

Kaname just lies there, fingertips tracing over his chest. It bothers him now that his skin is unblemished. There should be something, he feels. A ring of raised flesh, an abrasion, something?Surely this feeling in his chest means he's about to become one of them.

He presses his chest, trying to feel it out. His heart still beats, his lungs ache- Maybe it's in his Liver. You can live without half a liver, can't you? Or was it gallbladders? Retsu had told him, once, when-

He does not cry out. He swears he can feel the hole growing every time he thinks of someone who was ever kind, who ever trusted him, of Shuuhei and Saijin and home and anything more than surviving the next hour. He does not cry out, but he can't grit his teeth hard enough to hold the little whimper entirely in.

Unfortunately, it's enough to wake his companion.

Wonderweiss is a pure creature, and even under better circumstances, Kaname isn't entirely sure he could deny him anything. Under these circumstances, he's given to spoiling the creature. So the small Arrancar had been allowed to curl up beside him, sleeping with his back to Tousen and his face to the door. Saijin used to do the same, when they traveled together, at least in new villages.

Perhaps he couldn't deny himself the faint comfort of another warm body. Perhaps he feels like he deserves the way the memory cuts at him. Perhaps he hopes the memory will finally cut his chest open.

But Wonderweiss stirs at the noise, sitting up. He sleeps at a twisted angle, chest flat on the bed and hips nearly facing the ceiling. When he moves, Kaname feels Weiss' top half rise, but not the bottom, like his spine is little more than a polite suggestion.

"Ahm?" He asks, nudging Tousen.

"I'm fine." Kaname lies.

"Hmg." Weiss grunts, sitting up all the way and patting at him, humming with concern. Small soft hands on his face, arm, shoulder, stomach-

"Weiss?" He frowns. "Did you grow more hands?"

"Ah!" Weiss chirps.

"...Good Job?" he tries. He can feel the edges of his eyes burning with exhaustion, even when they're closed. More hands. Sure. Why not?

"-I wondered if I would learn what kind of a freak you were before you died." Gin drawled from the doorway. "Have to admit, didn't think you'd be into-"

Wonderweiss made a noise that roughly served the same function as a growl, but sounded like it had been turned inside-out, a low, wet thumping from the middle of the Hollow's chest. Weiss started to get up and Kaname felt the bed dip like the hollow had also tripled in size overnight.

"Fuck off, Gin." He groaned, sitting up and wrapping his arms around what he hoped was Weiss' abdomen. "Don't bother, he'll only give you a stomachache." He mumbled, tugging a bit against Weiss, who had previously been roughly the size and shape of a small child, but now seemed to be taking on the scale and proportions of a moose.

"I mean I shouldn't be surprised, you always did have a soft spot for animals-" Gin teased, and Weiss gave him another wet growl. "-Seriously, you feel safe enough to sleep with this thing?"

"If Grimmjow or Baraggan decides to do me in, that's one less warm body between you and The Old Man whenever push comes to shove." Tousen shrugged, tugging more insistently at Weiss, who seemed to sit back a bit. "The microsecond it takes him to blow through me might be your only chance to slither off like the coward you are."

Gin didn't immediately respond. "You know how lucky you are that you can't see that thing, right? He looks like a pipe organ made of ribcages."

Weiss trilled a short set of scales smugly.

"Is. Is it actually supposed to be doing that?" Gin asked, sounding almost genuinely concerned. "I thought it wasn't supposed to shapeshift until-

There was the faint sound of Gin's foot crossing the threshold into the room.

Wonderweiss' furious screaming probably woke every hollow in Hueco mundo, if not the lighter sleepers in the soul society. A high, almost metallic scraping noise, like a knife on a chalkboard, followed by a deep, resonant boom as something elaborate that Kaname absolutely did not remember including in Weiss' specs happened in the Hollow's thorax, and the wall opposite the door exploded.

Ah. The "wonder" in Wonderweiss. Must be short for "Wonder what the fuck that was". "Fuck!" Yelped Gin, and the Hollow launched off the bed, galloping after him through the echoing halls of the city.

Kaname sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating chasing after them. On one hand, he didn't want Weiss to come to any harm. On the other even the effort of sitting upright was making his arms shake and stomach churn. He realized he was rubbing his chest again, searching for the hole that had to be forming there.

Well, if he became a Hollow, perhaps he'd become a bastard-eating one like Weiss and devour Aizen. It'd serve him right after all this. There was some dark comfort in that thought and slowly, he rolled back onto the bed and tried lying still with his eyes closed again.

Kaname does not sleep.

He does manage to stop thinking for a while and is nearly startled when Weiss returns, humming cheerfully. He feels like he's returned to his regular size and number of limbs now, as he climbs awkwardly over where Kaname had rolled onto his stomach to rest.

"Kahnm?" Weiss tries, nuzzling at his shoulder.

"I'll be alright." he mumbles, reaching up to pat Weiss' head and this time, it almost feels like it might be the truth.

Satisfied, Weiss settles over Kaname this time, probably only two arms folded over his side and chest resting across Kaname's back, legs sprawled out to the side like a great cat as he resumes his vigil of the doorway. The weight is comforting, and more presicent in his mind than the sensations in his chest.

This time, Kaname sleeps.

[quirkfics]

!!!! I've missed your writing so much! I'm glad to see you're still here <3 May I request Edgeshot and Gang Orcaa (separately) with the prompt: teeth? Thank you so much!

"...you've never asked," Shinya murmurs, all but appearing next to you on the bus bench, startling you so bad, you nearly drop your phone. You juggle it for a moment, trying not to scowl as his eyes track your embarrassed fumbling.

"W-what? Asked about what?" You grumble, finally clutching the little square of metal and glass to your chest. You can't even recall what it is you were doing on it, but frankly, that doesn't matter now. As irritated as you might be, you do enjoy the strange conversations you have with Shinya, as they don't happen all that often.

"About what I look like behind this." Shinya plucks at the thick red cord, tied intricately behind his ear and your excitement about his presence draws to an awkward, unsteady halt.

"I'm going to be honest. This feels a little bit like a trap, as if you're searching for an answer I can't possibly have." It's not like you aren't curious. Shinya has lovely eyes, and a smooth voice, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't wondered, but you've also seen the disdain on his face when people ask.

For a heartbeat, it's quiet. Only the cars steadily trundling by, and the streetlight down the way buzzing, giving you just enough light to see Shinya by. You stare at each other. Shinya breaks first, gaze dipping to your hands in your lap as he reaches up to the ties around his ears. "That's why I would like to show you," he says. The mask sags, then drops, and the only thing you can think, the only thing you can do when he takes hold of your hands, fingers stroking soft, intimate patterns over your palms and up your wrists, is to whisper:

"Teeth."

Shinya doesn't smile. He grins.

[house-of-laminations]

This is my first time doing an ask so sorry if I’m not going about this right.

Do you know what the uncanny valley is? If not, basically the uncanny valley is a hypothesized relation between an object's degree of resemblance to a human being and the emotional response to the object. The uncanny valley hypothesis predicts that an entity appearing almost human will risk eliciting cold, eerie feelings in viewers.

So what if the MC reacted to the demons (and maybe angels) in their human forms as if they were experiencing the uncanny valley. (Basically afraid for seemingly no reason, wary, unsettled) But they seem much calmer/ at ease with them in their demon forms because at least then their brain could confidently register them as not human.

YES I love the uncanny valley, anon 💛 I'm a sucker for eldritch mysteries and horror, but even more personally, I'm studying design and anthropology and this pops up more than you would expect. I already have a fic in my drafts that talks exactly about this (and it's hinted at in my latest fic) but I wanted to also give this ask the time of day bc you are precisely on my wavelength.

"Human" form has always been a term that I've found funny - sure they may have the basic shape of a human, but even then their strength, speed, and mannerisms are always too off (and tangentially this is a rant I have about superheroes/superhumans and the uncanny valley too but that's neither here nor there). MC knows basically from the first 30 seconds these guys are monsters, other, but they spend their time attempting to be human shaped and it's really hard to get over. It's comforting to know they don't have to look human though - there's definitely a semiotic element involved in how the brothers are perceived. As humans, we have distinct visual cues and expectations tied to those terms (tails, horns, fangs, claws, tentacles, etc...). It's actually more logical for them to appear in their 'demon forms' (again another term that i have a bone to pick with). It might not be the truth that monsters have these qualities, but centuries of old wives tales and modern pop culture can't be forgotten so easily.

I went back to those very first lessons for ideas about how MC initially perceives the brothers and oh boy. You start your stint in Devildom by waking up in a giant room that looks like a courtroom, while beings that are person-shaped but move too precisely stare down at you from a dais. They don't understand why you're scared or confused - it's simple to grasp, right? You've been signed up for an exchange program in hell that you didn't sign up for. Simple! One of them mentions that they might accidentally eat you. His teeth are sharp, but that could just be your imagination because it's not like they're fangs.

Paradoxically, I do think Asmo suffers from this effect the most. He's all about being desirable, the pinnacle of lust - but not everyone's desires are the same, right? I have a headcanon that his features are slightly more malleable to human perception, that no two people see him the same way. Trying to photograph him leads to more mindfuckery. MC is 'immune' to his charm though, and I can't even begin to describe how they first see him.

Anyway yesssss I am here for these types of prompts/thoughts/ideas!! I hope this is somewhat satisfying answer anon, at least until I can push that fic out x

[equalseleventhirds]

i said i wouldn't write it but i did

vaguely a sequel to this, but far in the future and focused on jon (annabelle features briefly tho. she's fine. annabelle will always be fine in my fics.) with ofc the presupposition that they've failed in one world but kept trying, bcos i think that would be fun*!

*(by which i mean heartbreaking, i'm so sorry)

There are rules, to the traveling, or at least there seem to be. There are certainly questions to be asked and points to be made, about how many instances count as a definitive rule rather than simply a pattern. But Jon likes to think of them as rules. He's always preferred concrete answers, even if it turns out they're less the truth and more just a convenient way of conceptualizing things.

So he has rules.

First: the Fears always come through on the same day. October 18, 2018. Or, given the impact history has on calendars, the equivalent of it; he'd once spent months trying to correlate the forty-third moon of cycle 1852 with his calendar just to prove his point, but the math had all worked out.

(Which does indicate, at least to Jon, that yes, the Fears probably did originate in his home world, Georgie. He'll take his petty wins where he can get them. For as long as he can remember the discussion, and the people, he's proving wrong.)

Second, it is still his tapes that the Fears follow. For every apocalypse there has been a new catalyst, but none of these new rituals supersede his. Maybe it's a testament to the strength of the Web's original plan, or maybe it's just something about Jon himself. He knows what he thinks, but... well, there isn't enough proof just yet.

Third, in spite of endless attempts to trap them and stop them, Jon is always able to travel with the Fears. Perhaps they simply can't stop him, as the original antichrist he apparently is; dozens of apocalypses in dozens of different universes, and Jon can always feel his rightful place as ruler of that terrible fearscape calling to him. He hasn't taken it yet, but it's there, and the Eye cannot abandon its true pupil without his permission.

Or perhaps they simply don't care. Every attempt so far has led to the exact same result, after all: another world left behind, another death by starvation averted, another new feast for the Fears to sink their teeth into.

Fourth, he always passes out upon entering a new world.

It's kind of annoying.

---

It is slightly unusual for him to wake up warm, comfortable, and covered in a blanket, but Jon's not about to complain. It's nice. He doesn't get a lot of comfort, and he likes sleeping in a bed, especially since he's always eldritch-nightmare-free in a new world. For a limited time only, of course.

He's fairly certain he's inside; aside from the softness underneath and around him, the air is still and temperate, the light through his eyelids is artificial, and all he can hear is the faint whirring of appliances and the whispers of two muted voices.

"—complete stranger, definitely dangerous, looks like he's from hell—"

"Okay, fine, but I wasn't going to leave him, and anyway haven't you noticed he's a bit—"

"A bit what? Scarred? Bloodstained? Glowing eyes, because I don't think I need to remind you, Martin, his eyes were absolutely glowing when you found him—"

Martin. Now there's a name. Not an uncommon one, but... he thinks he knows that voice.

Or. Well. He might know both of those voices, actually, which is even more interesting than waking up in a bed.

Jon opens his eyes.

He's met himself before, is the thing. Not in every world, and not always particularly recognizable, but he's met himself. He's met versions of Martin, too, and eventually stopped going completely useless with heartbreak every time. The merest handful of times, he's found both of them in the same world, sometimes something almost like friends, but usually not.

The fact that they have their arms around each other, casual, comfortable, close, is both entirely unexpected and perfectly, wonderfully, terribly familiar. Jon briefly considers crying about it, but there are more important things to be doing. For example.

"The glowing eyes aren't actually that sinister. I mean, they are, but not for the reasons you're probably thinking."

Jon—the other Jon—jumps at the sound of his voice, then leans forward. Curiosity, of course; that hardly ever seems to change. "You—the glowing—who are you?"

"Jon," this new version of Martin scolds, and for just a moment he's back home, with his Martin, with that exasperated tone—but no, this isn't his Martin, and he's also leaning forward now, his voice turning gentle. Concerned. Coaxing, like he's a spooked animal, and Jon doesn't think his Martin has ever talked to him that way. "How are you feeling? We found you unconscious in the street."

He can feel Martin's curiosity too, pushing forward under his concern, just as questioning as Jon but too polite to outright say it yet. He has to cut this off, or he really will cry.

"Mm... no," he says. "Well, yes. But also." Good lord, he's confusing them. Par for the course, but he should probably try to be somewhat comprehensible.

He holds up a hand, extending one finger. "I am... fine. More or less. Trust me, I'm used to this, and this isn't even the worst way it's happened." Another finger joins the first. "My name, as I believe Martin has guessed but then dismissed, is Jonathan Sims. I am not you from the future, nor am I lying, nor am I crazy, because—" a third finger "—interdimensional travel is not only possible, it has happened, is happening, because of and along with terrible monstrosities I am determined to stop, and I have explained this too many times to too many people to have much patience for anyone being shocked and disbelieving, much less a version of myself doing so, so you can either get over it and move on or I can go elsewhere and do something useful."

"Excuse—"

"And," he continues, pushing himself up so he can sit and lean forward even more intensely than his counterpart, "I would actually rather not do that just yet, because I have an extremely pressing question for the two of you."

"Um," Martin says, and "What," says the other Jon.

"How," Jon asks, deepening his voice to exude solemn, ominous, and eldritchly important, "did you two start dating?"

---

It was so... normal. Apparently. Two people, mutual friends, a chance encounter. A prickly exterior ("He hated me," both of them had claimed), but without the insecurity of being Head Archivist and the fear of dread powers beyond his comprehension, their friends had helped him open up and—eventually—apologise. A budding friendship, and then a romance, and then...

It isn't a version of them Jon has seen anywhere else, in any of the worlds he's traveled to. Normal as it is, it's a highly improbably scenario, and certainly not the same as his relationship with his Martin had been. But it was, in an infinite number of worlds, still a possibility.

Jon isn't quite sure how he feels about that, knowing that some version of them could have fallen in love without the trauma, but that they hadn't managed it.

His hands aren't shaking, as he lights his cigarette. At least there's that.

"I quit, you know," his counterpart says from behind him. "Years ago. I'd forgotten about those until you asked."

"Well then, thank you for indulging me." He gestures, meaning the cigarette, meaning the bed, meaning his claims about reality, meaning his intrusive, gossipy questioning. Meaning everything. He's not sure it gets across.

The other Jon laughs, quietly, and moves to stand next to him. "I am my worst enabler."

"Oh, that's hardly true."

"Mm." They're silent together for a while, but Jon is restless (both of him), and eventually this reality's version opens his mouth to ask. "Do you—do you know why I—I don't want to say believed you, I'm still not sure I do, b-but, didn't throw you out immediately?"

"My myriad charms?" They both laugh at that.

"Jonathan Sims," he says, as if that explains anything.

Jon takes a drag of his cigarette, considering. He could probably Know, but... indulging himself. "What about me?"

"No, not you, or. You know. You. But your name. Jonathan Sims. I decided you weren't, weren't a deliberate lie to trick me, or a future version of myself, or a mind-reading monster—"

"Well—"

"—when you said your name, because none of those things would have said that." He smiles then and holds up a hand, and—oh—his ring glints. "I've been Jonathan Blackwood for a while now."

They'd told him married eventually, but he hadn't even thought about his name. He's certainly thinking about it now. "Jonathan Blackwood," he says, soft, to himself. And to himself. "That... that sounds good."

"It does, doesn't it."

Whatever they might have said next is lost as an incredibly loud engine roars nearby and a sleek black motorcycle pulls up in front of them. Jon sighs and takes one last drag of his cigarette as the rider removes her helmet.

"Been off finding yourself, then, Jon?" Annabelle asks.

"Oh, extremely funny, yes. Did you steal that?"

"It was a gift."

"Of course it was."

The other Jon is staring at them both, his eyes repeatedly drifting back to the web-covered hole in Annabelle's head. "Who—what is—is that a—"

"She's a spider monster," Jon supplies helpfully. "She came with me, although apparently she did not pass out in the street this time."

"Two streets over, I think. Pity, I would've loved a nice nap in a proper bed, but I did get this motorcycle out of it. Come on, Jon, you can mope on the way."

"I have not been moping—"

"Haven't you? You're not the one who deals with how maudlin you get every time you meet yourself—"

"Yes, fine, thank you, we can go." He stubs out the cigarette and pauses, looking at himself. "Uh. Tell Martin—well, goodbye, I guess. I'd say I hope we meet again, but if you're lucky we won't need to?"

"...sure."

"And I'm—I hope you—that is, I'll do my best—well." He sighs. "Things are about to get... dicey, for the world in general. But just, look out for each other, and we'll try to handle the rest."

"Jon, we should be going."

"Yes, all right, all right." He gives himself one last, probably not very reassuring smile, and climbs on behind Annabelle.

They do have work to do, after all.

[inkribbon796]

Like a House of Cards Ch. 7: Something Precious, Something Gained

Summary: As the dominos fall in the opposite direction, time ticks on.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

After the blast hit and Dark fell backwards, their form flicking and convulsing, the chaos around them froze in time.

Brody broke free of the magic pushing him away and both he and Wil raced over to Dark.

Wil took out his revolver and fired in the Guildmaster’s direction, screaming in a rage before leaping to Dark’s side.

“No! No!” Brody screamed as he raced over to Dark, tears starting to stream from his eyes. “She wasn’t supposed ta hit yeh.”[1]

“Darkling!” Wil knelt by Dark’s other side.

Brody began drawing up as much aura as he could muster as started trying to seep it into Dark’s battered body as carefully as he could so he didn’t worsen the damage. He looked up at Wil, “Make yerself fookin’ useful, will yeh Bubbles?”[2]

“Ohh, right,” Wil realized and placed his hands ever so gently on Dark’s chest, the touch gentle as the two of them began slowly seeping aura into Dark’s chest and tentatively their aura fused the horrid cracks up again.

The Entity’s souls, no longer screaming in agony, began to rouse again from their dazed state and Dark saw Wil and Brody leaning over him.

“Dark, sweet mother ‘a[3] Mary, yer[4] alive,” Brody gasped, setting his head on Dark’s chest as another round of sobs ripped their way out of his chest. “I thought yeh were gonna die.”[5]

The hunters all suddenly disappeared into a massive portal as a person in a long brown trench coat and blood stained bandages over his eyes. The blood from his bandages was starting to roll down his cheeks.

The entire group looked at this new Host, and the one who was still standing by Illinois.

“The fook[6]?” Marvin said, looking between the two Hosts.

The Dealer walked towards Dark, who was starting to settle in exhausted unconsciousness instead of imminent death, Wil looking up and frowned at the fact that he was now seeing double of one of his boys. Both he and Brody felt drained.

“Huh, I don’t recall getting drunk,” Wil commented.

“He’s not gonna[7] die, right?” Brody growled.

“Of course not, why would the Host want such a thing?” The Dealer scoffed. “The Entity should be fortunate that it will take another three years for the Guildmaster to amass that kind of magic again and by then the Entity will be more than fully recharged due to the vast empire he has accrued that he can get aura from.”

“Holy fuck, he’s still alive?”

J.J and Hearts appeared out of thin air.

Illinois and his siblings, except for the Host, braced for another attack.

“Hey, hey,” Hearts held his hands up in surrender. “We’re done, besides there’s no point in wearing the suits again now that Wilford’s alive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bim demanded.

“Well, we,” Hearts began patting his pocket in confusion, before groaning and rolling his eyes. “Logan’s still got the video, awww, shit, we were gonna[7] use that.”

Hearts looked up at the beanstalk not too far from them. A huge sunflower platform starting to bud and flower at the top. “Hold up, we’ll get Tech Avery and the Hulking Croak down and we’ll do the whole spiel then, when we’re—”

The Suit dodged as Ethan came out of nowhere to try and punch Hearts in the face. Hearts deflecting or dodging most of the strikes.

“What did you do to my dog!” Ethan demanded in an angry fury. “Stop wearing my fucking face.”

Then one of Ethan’s fists phased through Hearts’s face before he completely disappeared. Then he was swiftly kicked in the back so he toppled forward onto his face.

“We’re done,” Hearts told Ethan, parts of him materializing first before others. “I can kick your ass, but I really don’t want to.”

“You’ve killed dozens of people already,” Ethan spat, “why stop now?”

“Well maybe I like existing,” Hearts told him, “you ever think of that?”

“Why would that matter?” Ethan demanded, picking himself back up.

“I can’t tell if you’re being obnoxious or just plain stupid,” Hearts rolled his eyes, and looked around.

J.J casually snapped his fingers and a magical barrier sprung up and a wall of red and gold magic hit it. “Right on time, it seems,” the false J.J smiled.

“Yeah, I’d hate to tell the story twice,” Hearts smiled. “Hey Princey, are the others with you?”

“Odious scoundrel!” Roman shouted. He was standing with all the other Sides. All of them in their superhero outfits. Other heroes and villains began showing up since they’d been called over by the cracking dome and the burst of magic.

J.J dissipated the barrier.

Nate let out a sigh of relief as he counted all seven Sides. None of them had tried to kill each other for power or to get more of themselves back. He’d need to have a long chat with all of them, but right now there were other things to worry about.

“Where is that face stealing monster?” Roman demanded.

“Seeing as I still have my face, I think we are merely dealing with imposters,” Logan explained.

“Logic, now is not the time for semantics,” Janus hissed.

Logan fell silent, but he was looking at the two Suits. Hearts smiled at him in return.

“Hey, glad to see you’re all still doing well,” Hearts still had a huge smile.

Janus hissed at him in fury at the same time Logan yelled out, “FALSEHOOD!”

“Yikes, but that’s a discussion to have with our Logan,” Hearts smiled.

“That was nothing like Logic!” Roman shouted. “How dare you?”

“Well yeah, he’s not our Logic yet, give him about fifteen years and he’ll get there,” Nestor explained. “We’re from the future.”

There was a beat of silence before Roman began laughing, pointing his sword down at them, “Your tricks will not fool me, thou cretinous wretched. Tell them Deceit.”

All the other Sides had already been looking at Janus, who was staring at the two doppelgängers in a mixture of shock and apprehension.

“Deceit,” Roman growled, “now is not the time to play devil’s advocate.”

“That would explain the nanite technology and the fact that they know who we are,” Logan reasoned, a pit forming in his gut. Because if that Logan had been capable of that much sadism and outright, malicious violence . . .

“No. No!” Roman spat angrily at Janus,. “We are not even considering this.”

“Wait you guys are even thinking of considering this?” Ethan shouted. “It’s absolute horseshit!”

“Deceit’s a living lie detector,” Illinois called out. “He just also happens to be a really good illusionist.”

“It’s true,” Joan pushed three way past Janus and Remus and jumped down from a piece of rubble.

“So they’re telling the truth?” Joan looked at Janus.

“Unfortunately, it seems so,” Janus answered through gritted teeth.

Heart looked over at Brody, “Come on, Chase, if we can’t cheat with Logan’s video, we gotta do it together. I only want to do this once a round.”

“I’m not fookin’ leavin’ him ta get shot again!”[8] Brody shouted. “I don’t care if Host says it’s clear or not. I didn’t put up with all this bullshite[9] ta[10] watch him die.”

“Come on, he’s literally in the middle of what amounts to an army of magic, he’s not going anywhere,” Hearts tried to reason.

“Leave it,” J.J told him, his voice still grainy with whatever was helping him speak. “We need to get Logan back and it’s best to have this farce dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“Fine,” Hearts let out a frustrated groan, before pointing to J.J and then Brody. “This is J.J he’s a tactical advisor. This is Brody, part time hit man, and fulltime emotional crutch for an unstable eldritch demon.”

“And I am the Police Commissioner of the Egoton PD,” Hearts introduced, gesturing to himself, CP Nestor flashed a badge on his wallet that was usually carried around by Abe and reached around and grabbed a disk at the back of his neck and handed it over to the Dealer. “I’ll spare my name since it makes younger me a bit antsy despite half of the league already knowing who we are and where you live because you’ve been playing hero since you were fourteen.”

“The hell, you’re not me, you’ve killed people,” Ethan argued.

“Trust me, we’ve been targeting people who have killed or at the single rumor of an order from their Guildmaster they would kill. I have killed far better people, and I’m not claiming we’re saints but we did this town a favor.”

“You could have just told us upfront,” Logan grumbled. “It would have saved us all this trouble and bloodshed.”

Hearts started letting out an amused chuckle, J.J and Brody were decidedly not laughing, “Oh that’s funny, and you always say you don’t have a sense of humor. Did you know that you always ask that, every single time? Nah, you see, we tried that. A lot. So we’ve just been trying whatever sticks.”

“This is the tenth reset,” Brody frowned. “Thanks ta the anomaly an’ J.J here, we’ve been able ta remember all ‘a ‘em so we could make changes as we needed.”[11]

“We had to remove your J.J this time around because he refused to help,” Diamonds explained. “Speaking of which.”

He stepped to the side and snapped his fingers, a bubble of distorted time rippled out and J.J tripped through. He looked confused and bewildered, until he saw future J.J and jumped up to attack him.

Then there was another ripple of time and both J.J were standing there, the real one looking furious as Diamonds just stared back. “See? No one’s died, you should have just trusted me from the start.”

J.J looked around at everyone and he froze when he saw Jackie, who was standing next to Chase.

“Jackie?” J.J gave a shaky sign as he took a couple steps forward. The mute hero then raced over and hit Jackie with a hug, he was shaking in relief.

“Hey, Jay, you okay now?” Jackie asked in concern.

J.J nodded and held onto Jackie even tighter.

Hearts had the wherewithal to wait for the moment to pass before he pointed up to the beanstalk, “And our Logic just peaced out up there. He motioned to the beanstalk. “He’s got the drive we need where we explain everything and have actual video evidence to prove it. So you all can either wait in here, or we can send someone up to get him.”

Roman looked up at the beanstalk, finally sheathing his sword. “Fine, besides, we have unfinished business with him.”

“Excellent the Core Sides will be able to accomplish the mission with little to no bloodshed,” the Dealer smiled.

“They good or should we send someone else?” Nestor asked J.J and the Dealer.

“The Core Sides should be fine,” the Host asked for the two of them. “The Sides should not worry, the Host will not allow the Suits to escape. Especially since there’s a town to clean up.”

“I’m going with them,” Nestor decided. “Someone needs to help power him down afterwards and he won’t let that happen if he thinks the other Sides are still in danger.”

That caused a little bit of an argument but after a while everyone came to an agreement. Core Sides would go up with Nestor to retrieve their Logan and Patton. The three Dark Sides would stay down with the others and help clean up or wait for Dark to recover.

Janus did walk over to the beanstalk with them, halting Logan a ways away to talk. Mostly to plan in case Nestor double crossed them.

“I’ll keep an eye on things down here,” Janus decided, a small albino python sliding out of his sleeve and moving towards Logan. The logical Side letting the serpent crawl up his body until it was delicately wrapped around his wrist and then turned into a bracelet.

“Are you certain that you do not wish to join us?” Logan asked.

“If I go up there, I will strangle him with my own hands,” Janus warned.

“Alright,” Logan responded in understanding and walked back towards the spot the other Core Sides were standing with Nestor. Roman set his hand on the tree-like stem of the beanstalk and a rounded elevator carriage made of woven plants and flowers.

“Is that even safe, Princey,” Virgil looked at the carriage nervously.

“Of course why wouldn’t it be?” Roman leaned against the carriage with a huge smile.

Virgil frowned, “Are you serious?”

After some magic from Patton they all got into the carriage and it started to move up. The ride was quiet for a bit as the carriage began moving up.

“Why are you even coming up, don’t you have a future to hover over?” Virgil spat. “We can’t be that important.”

Nestor frowned, leaning forward in his seat, “Hey look, I’ve regretted many, many of the things I’ve done in my life but the time I spent with you guys was not one of them.”

Nestor pointed to Logan, “You’re not our Logan yet, but even at this point I owe you a lot. You fixed my crappy homemade suit into something that would protect me. You and Silver and Jackie helped give me a structure while I was still in school and doing hero work. I still hold those days in a special place in my heart, and regardless of what happens next that won’t change. But even after I still owe Logan a lot for really helping me out. I might have mentioned it but this city hates me. Dark dropped the police department in my lap and basically told me: “keep order in my city, bitch” and walked off to keep looking for Wil. Logan was there to help me. He helped me when no one else did or could.”

“Sounds like hell,” Virgil commented.

“For five years it was,” Nestor told him, “a lot of people who didn’t need to die, died. Hunters were killing anyone they thought could be a demon vessel after they found out how many demons were actually in the city. And while all that was going on, I had to stand up in front of the news and try and keep the peace in a city that was turning itself inside out. My mission was to save as many people as I could, and if a couple scumbags who were going to kill children and people who have nothing to do with heroes or villains then who cares?”

Logan’s brain was already going to dangerous places. He could see a logical chain of events that brought the Side from where he was sitting in-between Patton and Virgil, to wherever Spade was in his life. It was a dangerous slippery slope.

His future self had already been telling him things. And if these doppelgängers were truly from the future then he had to acknowledge that his other self’s warnings were true. That Virgil and Roman had died. That Patton had been hurt and needed protecting. That Deceit had to be trusted when he couldn’t trust anyone else.

And that the hunters were to blame.

These thoughts swirled his head as he evaluated them:

Did Patton deserve to be attacked for things he could not control? No!

Did a young man who was barely old enough to drink deserve to have the metaphorical weight of a city dropped upon his shoulders and left to run the police force on his own? No!

Did the people who callously murdered Virgil deserve to be left to walk free . . .

Logan hesitated. Apparently most of those people were now dead before they could kill Virgil and others like him. They also hadn’t yet done anything.

Objectively his head spun with the paradox. Given the chance they would have killed him. But they were too dead to actually carry out the deed anymore. We’re they still guilty of the crime?

The logical Side’s battered heart cried “Yes” but now Logan couldn’t be sure that was his mind and heart deciding those things anymore.

His future self had clearly been trying to make Logan think and act like him. If not for Ethan and Chase, he would have succeeded.

“Not sure how much I should keep telling you, either way, Lo’s gonna be pissed,” Nestor shrugged as the flower car continued to take them up. “Logan works kinda with Google these days. Patton started going full demon and got scared so he worked with Dark for aura to help sooth Pat, and then he worked with Google and Bing for safety.”

“Because he’s inorganic?” Logan commented, roused from his rather venomous thoughts.

“Yeah took a good five years for Lo to want to work with him, Google had been making offers for a long time before that,” Nestor scratched some rubble out of the back of his scalp. “We were all going through a lot and I kinda lost track of him for a couple of years since we were all so busy. Then he just showed up in Dark’s office one day a glitchy and angry mess.”

“I fail to see how if you were genuine that we would turn your assistance down,” Logan grumbled.

“Yeah, we’ll you weren’t the difficult one,” Nestor scoffed, looking out the window in thought for a couple seconds before looking back. “Look, Lo’s really protective of Pat, so just be careful, okay? Pat’s been through a lot.”

“Our anger and frustration is with your Logan, not your Patton, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The cart finally came to a stop at the top of the beanstalk and opened into a lush and verdant garden entryway. Beautiful petals and pastel colored insects fluttering in the breeze.

There were the light sounds of conversation that the Sides and Nestor could hear coming from the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. She wasn’t supposed to hit you

2. Make yourself fucking useful, will you Bubbles?

3. of

4. you’re

5. I thought you were going to die

6. Fuck

7. going to

8. I’m not fucking leaving him to get shot again!

9. bullshit

10. to

11. Thanks to the anomaly and J.J here, we’ve been able to remember all of them so we could make changes as we needed.

[orionsangel86]

Vicious Circles - Part 2

(Part 1 Here - Though you don’t need to read that to read this)

Also on AO3

The crunch of Dean’s boots on the dry, scratchy undergrowth of Purgatory’s endless forest had him gritting his teeth. It pierced through the otherwise silent landscape, acting like a beacon to every monster around that dinner was being served. He and Cas had been walking silently for about an hour. Neither had said a word since coming through the portal.

Dean glanced over at his stoic companion. Cas’s expression was firm. His eyes scanning their surroundings, constantly looking for signs of danger. His lips pulled into a grim line of determination. He gripped his blade tightly in his hand and made for an intimidating sight. Cas caught him looking, and they made eye contact for the first time. Dean’s heart skipped a beat in that foolish way that he so often admonished himself for. Cas broke the gaze quickly and sighed.

“You need to watch your steps, Dean. Don’t let your guard down.”

Mildly affronted, and irritated at being caught looking, Dean snapped.

“Maybe you should stop walking so loudly. You’re making enough racket to guide all the monsters right to us!”

Cas rolled his eyes and refused to answer, which only made Dean angrier. His irritation was short-lived, though, when they both heard shuffling over to their left.

In perfect sync Dean and Cas swung around and held up their weapons. Cas flipping his blade impressively whilst Dean gripped his machete.

“Well don’t you both make a pretty sight.”

The familiar voice filled Dean with relief and joy.

“Benny!” He laughed as the vampire emerged from the darkness of the forest. He saw Castiel relax slightly in his peripheral vision but not lower his blade.

“Dean.” Benny chuckled and held out his arms to wrap Dean in a tight hug. “It’s good to see you, brother.”

“It’s great to see you too man,” Dean responded brightly.

Castiel stepped forward and nodded politely at the vampire. Benny grinned and clapped Cas on the shoulder.

“So I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you ain’t on vacation? What world-ending disaster has brought you both back to Purgatory?”

Dean chuckled and slapped an arm around Benny’s shoulders. “You wouldn’t believe it if we told you. How did you find us?”

“What you think you’re discreet? The minute you both stepped through that shiny gold portal I could smell you on the other side of the forest!”

“Gee, way to make a guy feel good about himself!”

Dean’s mood had brightened considerably at Benny’s appearance. He walked ahead, catching Benny up on the situation. Cas followed them, remaining quiet and contemplative.

…

Benny knew where the leviathan blossoms grew and was able to guide Dean and Cas to the site without too much trouble from other monsters. They only encountered danger twice on the journey there. Once against a small pack of vamps that were easily taken out, and once against an eldritch nightmare with horrifying barbed tentacles that put Dean off his more exotic pornography collection for life. Luckily Castiel was able to quickly render it incapacitated and they all made a swift escape.

Castiel barely said 5 words the entire journey.

About 3 hours into the trek, Benny pulled Dean aside. Castiel was walking ahead out of earshot, and Dean knew what was coming before Benny had even opened his mouth.

“I know what you’re gonna say. Don’t say it.”

 Benny raised his eyebrows.

“I might have missed a lot spending my afterlife in this forest brother, but I know when something ain’t right. Whatever is going on between you two, you need to fix it.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah yeah. Trust me, you’re not the first person we’ve met recently to say the same thing. Even the Queen of Hell wants to meddle in our ‘relationship’.”

“Well I don’t know nothing about no Queen of Hell, but Dean, I ain’t forgotten how hung up on him you were last time. The angel is special to you. So whatever you’ve got going on, you gotta sort it out. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Benny clapped him on the back and picked up his pace. Guess that conversation was over then. Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. He had been trying to build up the courage to talk to Cas about the whole thing for days now, but no time ever seemed good enough, and Cas was always so damn pissed at him.

Benny had caught up to his disgruntled angel, and they were clearly talking about Dean. Cas’s posture was tense, and he was shaking his head. Dean’s heart sank at the thought that he might be telling Benny what Dean feared most, that Dean had pushed him away for good.

…

Dean hoped they would find this damn flower soon. Time was steadily ticking away, and they still had to make the journey back to the portal. Luckily, they didn’t encounter any further Purgatory residents on the journey, and even though it remained tense between him and Cas, Dean was glad for the peace.

 “We’re nearly there brother. Just up ahead. You hear the river?” Benny pointed towards a lighter area through the trees, and Dean listened to the sound of rushing water ahead of him. He nodded and looked at Cas to flash a grin. They were so close now. Cas didn’t return his smile and looked away to continue his trek towards the river bank.

Dean’s face fell as he watched Cas go. Rowena and Benny were right. He had to fix this. With a final glance at Benny, he followed Cas towards the river.

As the trees thinned out, Dean saw the rushing water and the open rocky banks. If this place existed on Earth, it might have been beautiful. Even in Purgatory’s muted grey tones and atmosphere of constant danger, Dean felt at home here. It was pure.

Cas stood by the bank surrounded by the natural beauty and peace that this strange place brought them. Dean had an eerie sense of déjà vu about it. Cas knelt down to dip his hands into the cool water and splash his face, and Dean was overcome with emotion. Seven years had passed since he last stood in a place like this, watching Cas by a riverbank in monster heaven and wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and hold on tight. Seven years and that feeling was just as strong now as it was back then. Dean could forget everything that had happened in the years since, he could push aside his anger, his fear, his troubles. He was done being mad. He just wanted Cas back, wanted him by his side again in whatever way Cas would allow. He was going to fix this if it killed him.

“Cas?” Dean called out, approaching the angel slowly. Cas stood up and turned towards him, holding a strange-looking flower.

“Here,” he said, passing it to Dean. “The leviathan blossom.”

Dean reached out slowly and took the flower. His fingers brushed against Cas’, and he drew in a breath at the tension of the moment. Cas still refused to meet his eye and withdrew his hand quickly. Dean swallowed and tried to ignore his ridiculous thumping heartbeat and the hurt he felt at Cas’ continued coldness towards him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he looked down at the flower. “But you should keep hold of this. I trust you to look after it more than me.” He hesitantly reached out and put a hand on Cas’s shoulder and watched as Cas paused and looked at him suspiciously.

“Alright,” Cas said. He took the flower and put it in a small satchel he had been carrying. It was full of Dean’s things anyway. Water, some snacks, a few knives. He started to head back towards the tree line where Benny was lingering, but Dean caught his arm.

“Cas… can we talk?”

Cas looked at Dean’s hand gripping him and sighed. “We don’t have time for this Dean. We are hours away from the portal and need to get back before it closes.”

“I know. I know we don’t, but we can’t keep going on like this without talking.”

Cas looked at him coldly. “I’m so sorry I’m not a witty conversationalist. I had hoped Benny’s presence might provide you that form of entertainment.” Dean’s eyes widened in surprise and hurt.

“That’s not what I meant!” He snapped. “First Rowena, now even Benny has picked up on it. We have to stow our crap and work together. Get back to the way things used to be. If I can put all that crap behind us, why can’t you?”

Dean knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing. Cas’s whole demeanour changed. It wasn’t just cold, it was pure rage bubbling beneath the surface. Dean took a step back in anticipation.

“If you honestly think that things will ever be the way they were again just by you demanding my obedience…” Cas growled. “You hurtful, ignorant, stubborn, infuriating ass... If you had ANY IDEA how much I…”

Cas stopped himself. His shoulders drooped and he shook his head. “We’re done here Dean.”

Castiel turned and headed off again at a quick pace. Dean’s heart pounded and his frustration boiled inside him. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all. He couldn’t get his words right. He could never get his words right. Feeling dejected and angry, and resenting Cas for not giving him a chance to explain, Dean swung his fist at the nearest tree, grazing his knuckles and causing his hand to throb.

…

The journey back towards the portal was even tenser than the journey there. Benny acted as a buffer between Dean and Cas, trying to start a light-hearted conversation where he could. Castiel wouldn’t even look at Dean, and Dean’s anger and frustration only grew as the hours ticked by.

When the portal’s glow was shining through the tree line, Dean felt relief that this trip was nearly over. He would get another chance to sort things with Cas properly once they had both had time to cool down. He was thankful that this journey had practically gone off without a hitch, and without a single leviathan sighting.

As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, a sharp blow hit the side of his face, and he fell to the ground. The leviathans had found them, and one was currently trying to bite his head off. Dean quickly overpowered the creature and decapitated it with a swing of his blade. He scrambled to his feet to see Cas and Benny both fighting off their own foes.

“RUN!” Dean yelled as he headed off towards the clearing where the portal waited for them. He could see several more leviathans appearing in his peripheral vision and had to pause several times to fight another off.

They made it to the clearing only to find themselves surrounded. Dean, Cas, and Benny stood back to back, each holding up their weapons and sizing up the many leviathans that now had them heavily outnumbered. The portal was barely 20 feet away, but it was blocked by the monstrous pack.

“What the hell do we do now?” Dean asked.

“There’s too many of them! You’ll never make it to the portal in time!” Benny answered unhelpfully.

“We need a distraction, something to clear a path.” Dean looked around but couldn’t see any way out of this mess. “Cas, you got any bright ideas, or you just gonna stand there looking pretty?” Dean snapped.

Castiel turned to glare at him and, Dean immediately regretted his harsh tone. In his fear and anger, he was still taking it out on the one person who deserved it least. He tried to backtrack, but Cas spoke first.

“As a matter of fact Dean, yes. I do. Perhaps now I can finally be of use to you.” His words stung, and Dean’s face dropped, his heart jumping into his throat.

“Cas – I didn’t mean…”

“Here.” Cas thrust the bag containing the leviathan blossoms into Dean’s hands. Leaving no room for argument. “Get to the portal. It’s me they want. Go home. Stop Chuck.” Cas’ voice was harsh and cold. He glared at Dean, but through the anger, Dean could see the regret in his eyes. It suddenly dawned on Dean just what he was planning.

“No! Cas wait!” But Cas had already turned away. He held out his hand and closed his eyes, summoning his grace with all his strength. Dean had to shield his eyes as the bright white light of Cas’ grace lit up the clearing, sending a powerful pulse straight at the approaching leviathans. It obliterated most of them, leaving the rest knocked to the ground.

When the light finally dimmed, Cas was gasping for breath and swaying on the spot. If what Cas had told him previously was correct, then he was now practically powerless. Dean glanced back at Benny who had just managed to shield his eyes in time. 

“Dean…” Benny warned. “Not that I’m not grateful to feathers, but that didn’t get all of them, look.”

Dean glanced around at the leviathans who hadn’t been destroyed by Cas’s grace. They were quickly coming around and getting to their feet. Beyond them more eyes appeared in the dark of the forest, more of Purgatory's monsters had come to join the fight. 

Dean’s eyes widened in horror. He ran over to Cas and grabbed his shoulders, supporting him. Cas pushed him back.

“You need to go.” He demanded. Dean shook his head. 

“WE need to go Cas.”

Cas looked around at the approaching monsters and huffed a laugh.

“It’s ironic isn’t it? That after everything, it would all end here.” 

Dean furrowed his brow and Cas explained.

“When we were here before, Dean. You fought to save me, and I didn’t want to be saved. It’s funny how things change.”

The leviathans had crept beyond the tree line now. Benny looked on nervously but Dean couldn’t focus on anything but Cas. Cas’ expression was calm and it chilled Dean to his core.

“Do you know what my biggest regret is?” Cas said sadly. He looked up at Dean, blue eyes piercing into his soul. “My biggest regret is letting you down.”

Dean felt the breath leave his lungs. Cas turned away, unable to look at Dean for more than a moment.

“You haven’t prayed to me in so long. I lost your trust, I lost your faith. Any love you once had for me is gone.”

Each word settled in Dean’s heart like a knife. It was all wrong. How could Cas think this? How could he have been so stupid to let Cas believe ANY of this?

“No…” He breathed, feeling his eyes stinging as Cas turned back to face the hoards of leviathans and other monsters that crept ever closer.

“I’m not doing this for you Dean. I’m doing it because you have a chance to stop Chuck.”

At that moment, a silence settled over them. Even the leviathans seemed to pause and listen to what Castiel had to say. Dean held his breath. He wasn’t sure his heart could take much more. Cas’s face was sad, his eyes full of sorrow.

“I’m already dead to you.” He practically whispered the words, voice breaking as he spoke. Dean clenched his jaw. His own poisonous words from that terrible day vibrating in his head.

“This I do for me. Because I am done... I can’t look at your face and see your anger and disappointment anymore... It hurts too much.”

Cas finally looked up again, and Dean saw him visibly force his face back to stoic indifference, but the truth, the weight of the words was already clear. Dean had broken Castiel’s heart too many times, and now Cas was returning the favour without even realising.

“I told you once that I loved you…That will always be true.”

Castiel paused and looked up at the endless grey sky. A small, sad smile on his face. He looked at Dean one last time, and Dean knew that he had lost him for good. The look shattered Dean’s heart and filled his veins with ice as all the years of pain and regret showed on Cas’ face.

“Goodbye Dean.”

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Dean could do nothing but watch in horror as Castiel turned away and walked up to the leviathans. Holding his angel blade high.

“That’s right you sons of bitches.” He yelled at the ravenous creatures. “You’ve had your show, now come and get me!”

Dean’s heart was pounding in his chest. He felt like he was moments away from a full-on panic attack. He gulped in a breath and moved to follow Cas, but Benny pulled him back.

“Benny! Let me go! I need to stop this! CAS! Cas, you’re wrong! CAS PLEASE STOP!” But it was too late. The leviathans had moved to surround the angel, leaving Dean and Benny’s path free to get to the portal.

“Dean! You have to go NOW!” Benny yelled at him.

Dean fought to get back to Cas, but Benny was too strong. The portal pulsed, the indicator that time was running out. The leviathans pounced on their target, overpowering Castiel even though he was clearly putting up a decent fight. Dean stared in horror as one managed to bite into Cas’ shoulder, ripping through his trench coat and drenching it with blood.

“CAS!” Dean screamed. “CAS NO! COME BACK!” He couldn’t even see the angel now through the crowd of monsters that had jumped him. He turned to Benny, who was stricken with terror. “Benny please! I have to tell him. I can’t lose him again. Not like this… not like this…”

Dean was shaking as tears were falling down his cheeks. He couldn’t even care that Benny had seen all this… that Benny knew. Benny pulled him towards the portal, forcing Dean to look away from the horrific feast.

“You have to go Dean, you have no more time. He’s already gone.”

Dean shook his head.

“I can’t Benny… I… I love him…”

It was the first time he had ever said the words out loud, and it stung more than anything else he had witnessed today.

Benny’s face was full of sympathy. “I know Dean. But love doesn’t bring people back from the dead.”

They both turned back to see the leviathans now shredding the bloody trench coat. Leviathans didn’t leave remains, even angels couldn’t fight off that many. Dean’s whole world had turned upside down. Cas was gone. He was dead.

Benny managed to hold Dean up just in time before his legs gave way. The tears were streaming fully, and Benny pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry brother. I’m so sorry. But you HAVE to go NOW.”

Dean gasped a breath into Benny’s shoulder and managed to stand upright.

“What about you?” he asked.

Benny smiled sadly.

“I like a fight. Besides, if they get me I’ll just reappear in some other part of the forest. Monster heaven remember? Hell, I’ve already been ripped to shreds enough times to know that’s the case now. Sadly I don’t think the same can be said for your angel.”

Dean swallowed down the pain and took one last look at the space where Cas had fought. Most of the leviathans had run off into the forest, content with getting revenge on the angel that  once trapped them. The few that remained had finally noticed him and Benny and were eyeing up their next meal already.

Dean wiped his eyes and clapped Benny on the shoulder.

“Go. Run.”

“Goodbye Brother.”

Dean reached out to touch the portal. With a flash, he was back in the bunker, the door to Purgatory once again sealed shut.

He dropped to his knees and sobbed.

TO BE CONTINUED…

[therealguy-thebestguy2]

Who Can You Trust? - Therren Feywind

Journal Entry 4 — Hello sister,

It’s been a while. I should have talked to you sooner but… I didn’t. I talked to Simon, though. It’s been so hard to make sense of these thoughts in my head, maybe if I take my time and go through them it will become clearer. Like Maximilian taught me to.      

So, some days ago now, we went on another adventure. This one had a little more direction than the last ones. Missing people from the town, dire consequences. Then again, there always seems to be dire consequences no matter how the adventure starts. Danger is an open flame and we are but moths, destined to dance around it until the day we finally get too close.      

Nymatra was there, as usual. Things are still… hard to read with her. At this point I don’t even know whose fault that is. Did I do something? Did she do something? I suppose we’ve both been complicated. I wish social interactions could just make sense. Nature was never this complicated. Hemmel, a dwarven man, joined the group too. Reminded me a lot of our friend Thymus. Say what you will about dwarves, but they build those bastards tough. That alone is worth respect.      

Maximillian was also there. You know, he grows on you. There’s just something, I don’t know, comforting? Something comforting about him. Even when he says something like how there’s “definitely no traps”, and you know there’s no way he could really know that so he’s probably full of shit, something in me just wants to believe him. Which, well, it can lead to problems. Sorry, I’m jumping ahead. Like I said, everything is a confusing mess. I’ll start over.      

So, we went out to some miserable swamps to track down some missing people, like I said. Found our way to some creepy looking outpost, tracks from the missing people leading inside. And some other tracks we couldn’t place. We were investigating the tower and, remember the thing I said about traps? I think we set off every trap possible along the way. If only Max’s faith that there were no traps was strong enough to make it so. Then again, we made it through all those traps without so much as a scratch. Maybe there is power in faith after all? Everything in my life is crazy, so why not?      

On the other side of some close encounters we ran into the things responsible for those tracks we couldn’t place, and had an even closer encounter. Strange lizard-folk. Like just about everything in these cursed lands, they were not interested in a non-violent solution.      

Close-quarters in a tower, not a great place to be relying on the range of a bow in a fight. I didn’t need your depth of experience to figure that one out. And these powers I have, they give me considerable strength in a close fight. But, I don’t know, I used my bow. I was scared, alright? I… I don’t like it. Whenever I, when I shift, it… changes me. I don’t like who I am when that happens.      

It was a selfish and irrational decision, a stupid decision. I knew it was the wrong tactical choice, and I made it anyway. And… and I paid for it. One of the lizards was shooting back at me. I was doing my best to avoid it, dodged one arrow, but there’s just so little space to move in an environment like that. Bastard got me good. Left myself open and he got me right in the neck. I barely had time to react to it.      

All the strength left me, and before I knew it I was on the ground. I tried to move my arms and legs, pick myself back up and keep fighting, but they wouldn’t move. I couldn’t even feel them. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nymatra, taking cover on the staircase. I tried to call out for help, but I was choking. Drowning. I could feel the warmth and that coppery taste that I have unfortunately become familiar with as of late. Blood. Probably a lot of it. More arrows bounced off the stone wall beside her and she retreated further down the stairs and out of site.

I was alone, things were getting blurry and dark and quiet, and then something unexpected happened. I saw rolling, forested hills, immaculate grass-swept plains, a stream fed by a small, calm waterfall. Everything had this strange haze to it, and perfect sunset-colours. It almost looked like the fey wilds, but not quite. There was a warmth unlike anything I had ever felt. Every part of my senses told me I was safe, and loved. And… and Simon was there, sister. I was lying there, on the softest grass I had ever felt by the bank of the river, and I saw his familiar boots approach from the water’s edge. It couldn’t be him, just another trick of the mind, like when the Lion attacked Nymatra. Simon was gone, I saw what happened to him. But it was him. The same silver robes with the blue crescent moon. The same kind cerulean eyes. He crouched down, held my face in his hands. There was a sadness in his eyes, but he smiled. He said “It’s okay, let go” and he lifted me to my feet. A look over my shoulder and the sadness in his eyes deepened. “I’ll be right here. It’s okay to let go.”      

And then things got weirder, if that’s possible. I was standing there, by the river, forest all around. But I was also in the tower, Maximilian’s hand glowing on my neck. My confusion was drowned out by a flood of familiar anger, and the beast took hold again. I smelled blood, anger and fear. It was intoxicating, like being starved and smelling the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted suddenly in arms reach. It creeps me out thinking about how much I enjoyed that smell. Seconds later, and the two lizard-folk were in pieces. One moment they were there, and then the next moment they weren’t. I had torn them apart.      

Just then Nymatra charged back up the stairs, hands crackling with eldritch energy and a fiercely determined look in her eye, shouting “I’ll save you!” Better late than never, right? It’s a lot braver than I was when I abandoned you and Simon. The group took a moment to heal and gather their strength, relieved to have a reprieve from the monsters that lurk in the tower. But are they really safe? There’s another monster, in me, how can they be sure it won’t turn on them?      

I was walking through the tower, but at the same time I was walking through that strange etherial place. I couldn’t shake it. even when we got back to town I couldn’t shake it. I knew I was at the tavern, but I was also there in the woods. I can’t make sense of it. Sorry, I’m skipping ahead again. I’ll go back.      

One last push, to the top of the tower. Up a ladder, and a terrifying massive serpent awaited, along with some kind of magical lizard sorcerer. Before I knew it, the snake was on Max. Tangled around him and damn-near devouring him. My eyes darting from the serpent to the sorcerer, I took in as much information as I could as fast as possible. My beast snarled, pulling at the chain as I glared at the sorcerer. I knew it had to be some kind of magic, that he was the key to stopping the serpent and saving Max. I think I knew that. Did I know that? I remember being angry, I remember thinking about the other lizard-folk I had torn apart. I remember the hunger. Was I trying to save Max? I hope I was. I hope I didn’t just choose to leave him to die.      

I let the anger erupt inside me. I was gone and the wolf was in my place. Without a second thought I charged right for the sorcerer. The serpent lashed out at me with a hit that might have knocked me out in my elven form, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was the lizard. With a leap I was on him, teeth tearing at his form, trying to find purchase on his scales. With the lizard knocked to the ground, the serpent vanished. Was that the plan, or did I get lucky?      

The lizard had tricks of his own, shifting into the massive form of a crocodile. Its massive jaw clamped down on me, and my world became pain and anger. The pain threatened to overwhelm me, but the anger won out. Mind focussing, I found a target. Maybe I couldn’t get through its scales, but I didn’t need to anymore. I bit down on the creatures tongue and pulled with all my strength. We battled with nightmares, and mine was stronger. I walked away from that tower, he didn’t. The others managed to rescue some of the missing people. I’m a little vague on the details, my mind was on other things.      

We got back to town, and still I’m in the etherial woods. But I’m somewhere else. I can’t seem to find Simon again. I’ve been keeping to myself in town. Didn’t have time to go off on adventures, I needed to find Simon again. I even organised to go back to the tower in the swamp. I thought maybe going back to where I saw him last time would let me see him again.      

Travelling alone seemed dangerous, so I asked Nymatra to come with me. I think I trust her the most. She thought it’d be too dangerous to go without more protection and suggested bringing Max, but I kind of freaked out at the idea of sharing what’s going on with a group and cancelled it. But taking Max was a good idea, so I went to ask Max if he could go with me and- oh wow that sounds way worse than it is when I write it down like that, I- No, okay, it doesn’t just sound bad, that was pretty bad of me. Am I a shitty person? Damn it.      Anyway, yeah, I went to talk to Maximilian. About a lot of things. About what I saw, how I was feeling, my confusions. I really opened up to him. I haven’t really done that with anybody. I mean, I’ve told Nymatra a few things, but this was more than that. It’s just so easy to talk to him, and unlike any other time I relive my memories, I actually feel better with Max’s help. He’s very reassuring, and his advice somehow simple but something you never thought of.      

He agreed to go to the tower with me, which was relieving. I just feel like, whenever he’s in my group, I know we’ll get through it and make it back home. We talked about Simon. About how he was religious like Max. About my history with Simon, how we loved each other. I never really told anyone that before. But I guess I just feel safe talking to Maximilian.      

Maximilian talked about his religious stuff, about Pholtus, and there’s definitely part of me that really likes hearing about that stuff. He just seems so confident and assured about it. I think wish I had that kind of faith. I’ve never been that sure about anything. We reached the tower, but nothing for me. Just more unrecognisable forest. Retracing steps through the tower, and still nothing familiar. Back to that room in the tower, to the spot that I fell, the blood still staining the ground where I laid. Still nothing. No stream. No lazy waterfall. No Simon. No matter what I tried, I could not find my way back to him. I was half way to asking Max if he could beat me into another near death experience when I realised how ridiculous I was being. The whole trip had been a waste of time. I was not going to see Simon again.      

But Maximilian had another suggestion. I think it was some kind of religious technique? I don’t know, I’m not sure how any of that works. He guided me through some technique to get in touch with my memories. At first I thought it was another dead end, I was just seeing more of the same. Then I remembered Simon speaking, like last time but… not like last time. It was the same memory, but there were details I noticed that I had missed the first time, words that I had somehow forgotten. What Simon had said was “It’s okay to be angry. But you have to let me go. I’ll be right here when you’re ready. It’s okay to let go” I don’t know how I could have forgotten something like that, or missed it. Maybe the trauma and heightened emotion of the near-death experience had impaired me? Or maybe it was the distraction of being healed?      

Maximilian asked me what that meant, why I was angry, so I told him everything. That horrible night when I lost you, Sister. When I lost Simon, and the rest of the group. The nightmares that came after. The fear and hatred. The beast that lives inside me. But Max told me the beast was not evil, that if I let go and allowed the beast to take control he could prove it to me. It was a crazy idea, but I went along with it. Like I said, even when you know there’s no way he could know something for sure, he makes you want to believe him. I braced myself, took a deep breath, and let the beast out.      

I’m not sure what I thought would happen. Maybe I thought I would tear his throat out, or that I would bite his tongue off. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t what happened. Nothing happened. The beast tested Maximilian, decided it liked him, and gave me back control. Afterwards Max told me he could sense when there was the presence of evil, and he sensed no evil from me.      

So I guess Maximilian is right. I guess Simon’s right. I’m not a monster. The beast is not a monster. Simon told me it was okay to let go. I don’t know if he meant let go of him, or let go of the fear of the beast inside. I guess either way it’s good advice. Maybe it’s time I start living again. Time to stop existing in that dark forest. Make some decisions for myself, learn more about Pholtus with Max. I’ll see my friends and family again someday, but for now I’m ready to move on.      

You will always be in my heart, but this is the last we’ll speak for some time. Goodbye Thiala.

[turnupswritessometimes]

The One With the Zombies

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 10

Word Count: 5455

Description:  Another what it says on the tin from me - it's a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren't surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang's leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn't last forever and soon it's only Ash and Eiji. And they're up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

10

It was when Ash was facing away from him that he said it. He was staring out the window, his eyebrows pinched together.

"Do you know what I’d do if I could touch you?" Ash asked.

"Mm?" Eiji was fiddling with the TV remote. None of the channels worked, but he considered setting it to static and just staring at that. It was something to do.

"I'd kiss you," Ash said. Just like that, Ejji could feel his heart racing in every one of his muscles. "I'd sweep you down like they do in movies and kiss you. One hand on your back and the other buried in your beautiful hair."

Eiji paused. He wetted his lips because his throat was dry. Kissing Ash. Kissing Ash when they weren't covered in blood and because Ash wanted to kiss him. When had he wanted that? Had he fallen in love with Ash Lynx?

"I'd put my arms around your neck and kiss you back," Eiji said. His eyes lowered as he imagined it. Ash holding him.

"It'd be this big, mushy, slow kiss at first but then I wouldn't be able to control myself and I would kiss you until your mouth was black and blue."

"Mm!" His face was hot.

"And then I'd kiss your cheeks until they were bright pink." Ash's eyes glanced across at Eiji's, his mouth curving upwards as he spotted Eiji's red cheeks.

"Well," Eiji drew the word out because he needed to say something cheeky and clever that would make Ash grin. "I would have to kiss your nose until it went red."

That made him laugh. The first genuine laugh Eiji had heard in a long time. When it faded, he was still looking at Eiji. Green eyes searching his face.

Eiji was staring back, more words on his lips never quite making it to the air. There was something that had happened. This wasn't a friendly game anymore. Ash wasn't looking at him as if he was just a friend – just the Japanese boy that his gang found wandering around with a camera. He was looking at him as though he was shining. And Eiji didn't mind that. It did make him feel bashful - but it also made his chest warm, and he somehow knew that he was looking at Ash the same way.

Somehow, without even knowing it, Eiji Okumura had fallen for Ash Lynx.

*

There was a boy sat on the bed. A boy who looked even more like a girl than Ash did. A boy with long, dark hair and darker eyes. Skin the same colour as Eiji's.

He had looked up when Ash had kicked open the door and was now smirking slightly, as if he expected Ash to get angry. Ash didn't. He leant against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

He wasn't angry, but it did make him uneasy. If he didn't know where Papa Dino was and didn't have eyes on Eiji, he felt nervous.

"Yut Lung," the boy said. He looked even younger than Ash.

"Ash Lynx."

"So you're the favourite." It was said strangely, as if it was something important. Something to be covered.

"How'd you get here?" he asked. It had only been a few days, but he had forgotten the outside world existed.

"My brothers sold me for protection," the boy - Yut Lung, said it casually, but Ash recognised the tone of voice. It had hiding cracks underneath. He glanced up at Ash. Calculating his expression. "Charming, isn't it?

It did make Ash's skin crawl. A lot here did. But he was sensing that this boy wanted a rise out of him. He couldn't figure out why, but he felt like a circus lion being poked with a stick.

"Mm." Was the non-committal noise he chose.

"So do you think he'll do us both or just watch the two of us fuck?" Yut Lung was still talking lightly, but there was a fragility there. Brittle, Ash thought. This boy was terrified but he didn't want Ash to know it. "No offence but you're not really my type."

"Full offence, you're not mine either," Ash said. He shifted his weight, leaning against the other side of the doorframe. "Look, you can save the bitchy looks, I'm not here to play French mistresses with you."

"You say that now," Yut Lung paused, looking down. More and more fear was seeping into his voice. "What about when you're kicked out onto the street?"

"I'd welcome it."

"Really?"

"Zombies aren't the worst thing in the world." Ash only sounded slightly bitter when he said it.

Yut Lung looked at him again. He spoke slowly. "...You're something of a name in Chinatown, you know." He said. "Have you seen much of Shorter lately?"

"In passing," Ash said. "There's internet here. And electricity. How did that happen?"

"Because he's rich. He's a rich white old man and no apocolypse will change that." Yut Lung picked at a stray thread on the duvet. It made him look even younger. Ash was reminded of Soo-Ling - how his confidence faded whenever he was actually placed in charge. The same with Bones and Kong. "So now my brothers are trying to cash in on that."

"Round the clock protection from zombies?"

"I think the official term is walkers."

For all the cocky smiles that he had given Ash, Yut Lung sounded miserable.

"Zombies is better." Ash shrugged. He thought of standing outside of a warehouse a month ago and looking at a stammering Japanese boy tell him that zombies was too cool of a word not to use. It brought a twitch of a smile to his face.

And maybe it was because it was what Eiji would do. Maybe it was because he was missing his gang. Maybe the apocalypse had made him gone soft.

But he was stepping  forward and ducking his head down so that his voice was muffled slightly.

"Two days. We meet Shorter in two days."

Dark eyes glanced up at him. Calculating again.

"Why are you telling me this?" Yut Lung asked.

"Because I'm offering you to come with."

"And leave a lovely air conditioned mansion?" A thin dark eyebrow raised at him.

"Air conditioning isn't worth staying for." Ash said.

That was when he heard footsteps up the corridor and leant back, tucking his hands into his pockets. They waited, and Ash's heart was pounding. No. No he had been to careful that they couldn't have found out now.

He put a cigarette between his teeth. Then at least if Papa Dino had heard he would be too ticked off by that to remember it.

But it wasn't Papa Dino.

Marvin was the one leering at Ash today and it almost made him bite the cigarette in half. He thought he had this under control. He thought he could do this - could ignore the shakes and the nausea and push down all the memories with the rest.

But Marvin was here. Undoubtedly to call in the favour. It had been for Eiji, Ash reminded himself. It had been for Eiji and no price was too steep for him.

He tucked the cigarette back behind his ear. He would need it later.

*

It had almost stopped Eiji's heart.

When the door had opened he had been expecting Ash. It was always Ash. So when it wasn't he hadn't known what to do.

This was just a man.

Eiji didn't know what he was expecting. A shadow figure or demon from a horror movie. The bogeyman. But this was just an ordinary old man - overweight and balding. Maybe if he smiled there would be a grandfather-esque twinkle in his eye. That was a disturbing thought. The thought that this man had a life and a family.

And had completely and utterly ruined so many others.

"Where's Ash?" The question came out of Eiji's mouth before he could stop it. It scared him - that Ash wasn't here but this man was. Dino Golzine. The man profiting off of the end of the world.

He looked at Eiji. Not in a particularly threatening way - not like a tiger stalking prey. Just looked, then eased himself into the chair in the corner. Leaning on a cane. He wasn't some immortal, evil creature. Just a mortal, evil man.

"He's helping out one of my men." Came the reponse. An ordinary voice. Not the voice of an eldritch monster, but it still sent chills down Eiji's spine. "Did you know he promised one of them a favour so that you wouldn't have to be checked over?"

Eiji hadn't known. He didn't know what to do with that information. Didn't want that information because it made him feel useless and ashamed. It made him feel guilty that Ash had to - that he had even thought about it for a moment. And he felt like Ash knew that. That Ash hadn't told him bot because he was ashamed, but because he knew it would send Eiji apologising again.

So he did what Ash did, and stayed silent. He still had a hand in the book Ash had found for him. The English was difficult to understand and it took him ten minutes just to read a single page, but what else was there to do but wait?

"Are you scared of me?" the man - Eiji refused to use his name because that would make him even more human than he was already becoming - sounded amused. "No," Eiji said, and was glad that his voice sounded as strong as it did. "No, I hate you. I hate you for what you've done to Ash."

Drained him of all colour and made him wake in the middle of the night retching.

"No," Eiji said, and was glad that his voice sounded as strong as it did. "No, I hate you. I hate you for what you've done to Ash."

Drained him of all colour and made him wake in the middle of the night retching.

There was a long pause. When he spoke, his voice was slow and quiet.

"...He's planning to leave, isn't he?"

Two days. Ash had said two days.

"No."

"You're not as good at lying as he is." He leant backwards, a faint smile on his face. "Where is he going?"

"I don't know," Eiji said. He fumbled, wondering whether to be honest or keep lying. "He wouldn't say - he wasn't - he wasn't serious."

"You're not as good at lying as he is." He leant backwards, a faint smile on his face. "Where is he going?"

"I don't know," Eiji said. He fumbled, wondering whether to be honest or keep lying. "He wouldn't say - he wasn't - he wasn't serious."

"He does not say things he doesn't mean." How could someone like this know anything about Ash? "He's kissed you, hasn't he?"

"No." Yet Eiji's lips tingled.

"You know if you keep lying to me, I can make things very uncomfortable for Ash."

"It didn't mean anything!" Eiji was getting frustrated now. He felt like a mouse being toyed with by a cat, and yet he was still lying. He knew that now. It might not have meant anything then, but it did mean something now. "It didn't - he was just happy to be alive - he wasn't seeing me - he wasn't-"

"But he is planning to leave."

"I said I don't know," Eiji repeated. "I don't know anything."

He must have been a better liar than this man originally thought. There was a pause, then a smile, then a long moment where he stood.

"It's no wonder Ash has been hiding you away," he said. Eiji just stared, though his heart was pounding. "It was nice to meet you, Mr Okumura."

He didn't vanish into thin air, or dissolve into the shadows. He just walked from the room. Like a normal human.

But Eiji couldn't deny that it felt as though a weight had been lifted. Like the air had been cleansed and he could finally breathe.

Ash did tell him things. Ash told him that Soo-Ling had been right, in a way. It was like Cell - whatever that meant. Ash had explained that waves - he wasn't sure if it was radio waves or mobile waves - but he was sure that had something to do with the outbreak of the undead.

He was sure that they had been lead back like rats in a trap.

"But why?" Eiji had asked. Flicking from static channel to foreign news to static.

"Because he doesn't like to lose. Not money, not merchandise, not anything that's his. And I'm all three."

"Ash." Eiji couldn't help smiling. "Are you really telling me that the whole zombie apocalypse was because of you?"

"Am I not worth an apocalypse?" Ash was smiling back. But it only lasted a moment. " I'm just a little plan on the side. Probably a test, to see if it works. There's more to this. Control the apocalypse and you control the world."

"He wants to take over the world?" It sounded like a joke, and Eiji was still smiling. Only because for all its absurdity, it was scary. That wasn't the kind of thing real people did. Not the kind of thing real people should be able to do. That made it scary.

"Who knows?" Ash had sighed and flopped back down on his bed. "Who knows what straight cis white old men want?"

*

The final day passed. They had everything under their beds - bags full of necessities that they would hitch over their shoulders. Then it was a matter of thing the bedsheets together and climbing out the window.

Ash had made it sound easy. It should have been. The right after dinner drink would allow him to disable the cameras they needed, make it look like a blip in the system. They would have the time they needed to cross the estate and be in the city by the early hours of the morning.

And everything had gone to plan so far. Everything had gone to plan until Papa Dino's fork was resting on his desert plate.

Ash's was untouched. He was struggling to keep food down lately.

"I want to show you something I've been working on."

Ash wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't really believed the part about grooming him to take over. Not deep down. Deep down he had never believed he would live till eighteen, much less outlive Dino. And he couldn't say he didn't want to see it now - not when everything was balancing on a razor edge. One wrong word to get him suspicious and they were through.

So he stood. And followed.

He was going to be late. He was going to be late back to their room and Eiji would be worried. He was going to be late to meet Shorter. But there was nothing to be done.

Maybe alarm bells should have rung when they went down the stairs. All the way down. But Ash had never been scared of basements. The bedrooms had always set him on edge.

There was a lab down here. It should have surprised Ash. Maybe he was running on too much adrenaline to think properly. Too much adrenaline because if he stopped to think about any of this he wouldn't be able to move.

So he stepped inside.

"Is this where the fountain of youth is created?" He asked. There was something in him that wanted to be snarky - some kind of superhero gene that meant he just had to have a quip for every occasion. He wished that was the truth. Really, he knew he had to say it because he was nervous. He didn't like this situation and couldn't put his finger on why.

"Maybe one day."

There was a heavy smell of chemicals in the air - something similar to a swimming pool. Everything was white and shiny, bleached within an inch of its life. A few scientists were down here, standing in the corner and making notes on their clipboards as they compared results with each other.

And of course there were the men who had stuck of Papa Dino's side. They had guns. Within an arms reach of Ash was a gun. His finger was itching for that trigger almost as badly as he needed a cigarette.

Ash tried to read everything he could in the second he was given to look around. Two words stood out everywhere.

"Banana fish." There was something about saying it out loud. Two words that seemed ridiculous together and yet incredibly familiar. As if Ash knew the phrase from long before.

"It was meant to be a drug." Papa Dino was walking through the lap, so Ash took careful steps behind him. He had the feeling of being a lamb led to slaughter. It was fine, he told himself. He was needed. They wouldn't get rid of him. "Something akin to mind control."

"You're kidding me, right? That stuff only exists in bad sci-fi movies."

"It was meant to be a drug." Papa Dino was walking through the lap, so Ash took careful steps behind him. He had the feeling of being a lamb led to slaughter. It was fine, he told himself. He was needed. They wouldn't get rid of him. "Something akin to mind control."

"You're kidding me, right? That stuff only exists in bad sci-fi movies."

"I said something akin to mind control. It was supposed to create a heightened state of paranoia. The test subjects could be persuaded to attack anyone."

“Charming.” Ash’s heart was pounding. Things were starting to piece together, and he didn’t like the sound of them. "But it didn't work, did it?"

"It became uncontrollable, yes. Not so much paranoia, rather a complete frenzy. It stops the heart, after a while. But a miracle of nature means that the brain is still active. Just enough to keep the person moving."

"A miracle?" Ash felt sick. It was like his bravado was being peeled back.

"The living dead," Papa Dino was still walking. Scientists still looking at them like they were a nature documentary. “Isn’t that a miracle?”

“I guess it depends on whether you’re in or out of the mansion.”

That got a smile that he couldn’t return. “But you’re in the mansion now, aren’t you?” A hand on  his shoulder and Ash was looking away, pretending to read a nearby computer screen. “And you wouldn’t go back to the dante’s inferno that is New York City, would you?”

He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew.

So, Ash dropped any lingering indifference – any lingering acting – leant back on one of the nearest desks and crossed his arms. Dinner jackets made it hard to move. If they were going to run, he would have to ditch it or rip it.

“So, my choices are dante’s inferno or just regular hell?”

“It’s true then?”

“Why else am I down here?” Ash asked. His heart was hammering but he could drown it out. It became background noise when you were used to gunfights. “So, you invented a real zombie virus. Is this when you inject me with it?”

A hand on his cheek that he could barely feel. Adrenaline did that. Made him pure energy.

“Never. Not you.” It was almost fatherly. To people who didn’t know the whole truth, it might have been touching. Maybe there was a spark of warmth in those cold eyes, but Ash didn’t care to look. “This is for your own good.”

The tension was starting to bother him. “What have you done?”

“Invited a friend for dinner.”

Ash had seen Silence of the Lambs, but the way Papa Dino said that gave him more chills than when Hannibal Lecter did. It felt as though it had chilled him down to the marrow. For a moment, he knew his expression had slipped – he could tell from the smile appearing on Dino’s face.

“Where is he?”

“Only in the next room.”

Ash stumbled as he stepped forward, the scientists parting like a wave before him. The door behind them pushed open and he didn’t even see the room beyond them. He just saw a pair of dark eyes. Dark eyes. Not fleshy like egg whites. Eyes like a golden retriever.

His arms went around Eiji, with enough force that made Eiji stumble backwards. But his hands found Ash’s jacket – his fingers clutching the material for dear like. It had been such a sudden movement that Ash heard a rip. And, fuck, he had missed Eiji. He had forgotten how much nicer it was to touch Eiji. To feel the warmth of his body and his breath hitching in Ash’s ear. To choose to be close to someone. To feel the flutter of Eiji's heart in his chest like the wings of a trapped bird.

"Are you okay?" Ash demanded.

"I'm fine - I'm fine. But Ash-"

"I'm not so much."

It was another voice. A voice that made him freeze completely. Eiji's head was nestled on his shoulder, but he wasn't shaking. He was holding Ash firmly as he looked up.

Shorter was pulling himself to his feet. His skin was clammy and his legs shook as he did so. And yet he still smiled slightly as he pulled the sleeve of his jacket up. There was a tiny pinprick on his arm. "A virus. It's always the cheesiest movies that start with a virus."

"Shorter, no." They were the only two words he could think of. His fingers tightened into fists against Eiji's back and he felt Eiji press himself closer against him, like the way a dog would comfort someone.

"It's unthinkable. To let you go back to the chaos of the city. Especially now." Papa Dino's voice sounded far away. Like it was coming from above Ash and not behind him.

"I'm sorry, bud." Shorter was still smiling. Somehow, despite the world being jerked off balance, he was smiling. "I fought back as best as I could. I didn't have the heart to try and bite anyone on the way through."

"Let me guess." Ash's voice sounded rough. But he wasn't going to give in now. They had come too far for him to show that he was shattering into pieces. Brittle. He was brittle. "An extra strong dosage? Immediate effect?"

"What were you going to do? Try and find me a cure in a few days or so?" Shorter shook his head. Even his mohawk was drooping. "There's never a cure, Ash. And Maggie's just a depressing movie."

"So what's the lesson?" Ash turned, enough so that Papa Dino could see the white hot fury on his face, but not so that he could make out any features. "You'll infect someone every time I try to leave?"

"I told you, I can't let you leave. I'll even tolerate you your little friend, if it will make you happy."

Friend? Eiji wasn't a friend. Which was bizarre, because Ash hardly knew him. All he knew was that Eiji came from a small town in Japan whose name sounded like the name of a Gremlin. That he used to do high jump.

And yet he felt closer to him than anyone else he had ever known. He knew that he had to have Eiji by his side because otherwise he felt as though he was thrown into a choppy ocean without a liferaft. That was the surprising part about his life now. Not the zombies, but the fact that Ash Lynx had fallen in love. He had never expected to know what that really felt like, but now he did. He loved Eiji Okumura.

"Here." Shorter pulled out a revolver from his waistband. His hand was shaking as he held it out to Ash. "You need to take this. Its fully loaded."

No. The word didn't quite make it out of Ash's mouth. But no. He couldn't. He couldn't do this again.

And yet he recognised the look on Shorter's face. He recognised the waxy skin and dull eyes. Eyes that would be like runny eggs in no time, he knew. He knew he couldn't leave Shorter like this. But-

A hand took the gun. A hand with coffee coloured skin.

Eiji flicked the safety off.

"Its fully loaded," Shorter said. He was watching Eiji with a strange expression on his face. He was almost proud. "You know how to shoot it, kid?"

"Well enough." There was a determined look on Eiji's face. That was what kicked Ash's gut into action. He took the gun.

And in a split second all of his options raced through his head. He didn't have to shoot Shorter. He could turn around and shoot Papa Dino. Kill him now and take over his work. Find a cure for Shorter - keep him safe until then.

He could shoot himself. The ultimate act of defiance. Ruin perhaps the only thing that he was sure Papa Dino loved.

No he couldn't. He couldn't leave Eiji here. Eiji was the only thing he hadn't considered shooting.

Both of them. Go out like Romeo and Juliet.

No. There was only one real option. He aimed the gun at Shorter. His smile had started to droop at one side, as if he were about to have a stroke.

"I'm sorry," Ash said.

"What for? That you'll never know what it feels like to turn into a zombie?" His speech was starting to slur. "Just tell me about the shed, Ash. The video games and the rabbits and all that."

And despite everything, Ash found himself smiling.

"You're shit at video games, Shorter."

"Fuck you." Shorter had closed his eyes, but now he opened them. There was an almost lazy look to him. "Don't feel guilty about this, Ash. You're my best friend. I need you to-"

The shot rang out. The word ‘remember’ was underneath it like an echo.

Shorter fell forward. The world collapsed in as if it was made of paper.

Ash felt his fingers slip on the gun. What had he done?

What had he done?

Hands closed around his. Steadied the gun. Coffee coloured skin on ivory.

His eyes flicked sideways. Towards Eiji. His face was pale, but set. It set the fire off in his chest. No. No, they were getting out of this.

They weren't getting away with this.

Ash spun on his heel, firing the gun again. And again. And again. For a split moment, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to stop. He had hit Papa Dino. Just the shoulder but enough to send a spray of blood like paint from a spray can. And he had hit a doctor. One of the bodyguards before he could pull out his own gun.

The other one had his pistol pointed at Ash and for a moment he didn’t care if he was shot. He’d go out in a blaze of glory. Fuck it.

But then Eiji was pushing him to the side. Then a bullet was buzzing so close to Eiji’s ear that it ruffled his hair. He had his hand on Ash’s chest, holding him out of view of the door. Ash couldn’t die. Not here.

He backed along the wall, taking another shot. The bodyguard fell back. The scientists were crouching – avoiding the gunshots and trying to get to Papa Dino. So he ran.

And he was halfway down the corridor before he realised that he was holding Eiji’s hand. He slowed his pace and tried to loosen his grip. The beating of his heart was making it hard to hear anything else.

But he forced himself to breathe, to keep his ears pricked for the men that he knew would be coming after them.

They wouldn't be able to climb out the window. Not now. It would be ridiculous to try. And he had no idea where they would be going back to now that Shorter-

Now that Shorter was-

They'd need to get away quickly. They'd need wheels. And he knew where to get them.

"The garage," he said.

Eiji's hand tightened on his own. They started off again, pausing at every corner so that they could make sure the way was clear. It made Ash's skin itch. It was wasting time. They needed to move and move quickly.

"I'm sorry," Eiji said. "I think its my fault."

"Its not."

"You don't understand. He came to the room - he knew - he knew that we were leaving. He said he'd- if I didn't lie, then he wouldn't-"

"And what did you say?"

"That I didn't know. I didn't know anything."

"So you didn't tell him anything," Ash said. "So it's not your fault."

"So - so, then, how..."

"There was another boy. His name was Yut Lung. I told him we were meeting Shorter - I even said where. He was the only one who knew. It was him."

That was when they heard them. Shuffling footsteps. Of fucking course. They kept moving without saying a word to each other.

There wasn't a lot of other people around. The men who were running down the corridors were more focused on the "outbreak of test subjects" rather than Ash and Eiji. That suited Ash just fine. There was already too much blood on his hands. He had no desire to kill anyone else that evening.

It was in the garage that things looked messy. The labs had been down here and it was the labs that were overrun with zombies

They saw them through glass doors and on security monitors as they passed. They were close - closer than Ash felt comfortable with - but they hadn't made it to the garage yet. In front of the door they stopped. Eiji met Ash's eye and he wondered how they were able to tell what the other was thinking without saying a single word. He raised the gun, Eiji pressed the button to open the door, both of them tense and ready for a fight.

It was empty.

And there, only a few feet away was the gleaming red surface of their escape vehicle. Ash had never been particularly fond of it. At the time he had thought it was ridiculous and tacky. At the time he had known he would never use it - it was just a larger toy car for a larger boy. Now he had never seen a car so gorgeous.

The keys were on the rack. It opened easily and Ash slid into the leather front seat. It still had new car smell, it had been used so little. He grinned, the exhaust purring to life as he turned the keys.

And Eiji was in the passenger seat. Not smiling, but not shaking or frozen. He wasn't the boy from three weeks ago that had broken down at the sight of a zombie. He was Ash's partner in crime now.

They were silent as they pulled out of the garage, the door opening automatically. There was the street. The sky. The night sky stretching above them, stars sparkling like a stock photo. Stars didn't used to look like that. They didn't used to be so bright. So perfect. But this was the outside. They had done it. They were free.

"You have a car?" Eiji eventually asked. He was pulling his seatbelt across and sounded calm - way too calm.

Ash changed gear. His heart was racing with exhilaration - he felt like he was flying. "Sixteenth birthday present." He paused, feeling brave. Feeling untouchable and not wanting to waste this moment. "Do you know what I'd do if I wasn't driving?"

"What?"

"Kiss you."

"Ash, pull over." There was an urgency in Eiji's voice that made his gut drop. He obeyed, pulling to the side of the road and glancing behind him. He could see figures in the open garage door.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"You're not driving anymore."

Ash glanced across at him. Eiji was smiling at him, ever so slightly. His eyes caught their headlights and shone. He was shining silver like a coy angel. So Ash leant over, not even hesitating as he pressed his lips against Eiji's. His mouth was open and his breath was hot. The kind of sexy kiss that action movies always had.

He could feel Eiji melting as he kissed Ash back. Eiji kissed Ash back and it sent tingles through him. They were kissing each other and it felt like lighting. Ash could get used to this – could get used to kissing Eiji, he thought, as he took Eiji’s bottom lip between his teeth. He toyed with it like he was savouring a sweet. There was a small sound from the back of Eiji’s throat and it made his heart pound. This. This made everything go numb. It was only him and Eiji and the rest of the world was blacked out.

"Ash?" Eiji’s voice was soft. His fingers grazed Ash’s shoulder.

"Mm?”

"Sweetie, there are zombies behind us.”

There was a small grumble in the back of Ash's throat as he pulled away, revving the engine back up.  The shadows were closer in the rear view mirror now, but he was finding it hard to care. How could he care about anything other than kissing Eiji? It made everything else feel far away and insignificant. Helped chase away the thoughts that were plaguing him – that would come back as soon as he stopped for breath.

"That's shit," Ash muttered.  He was basically flooring it. The roads were empty enough for it.

"Tell me about it, stud."

Eiji placed a hand on Ash's thigh and watched the smile grow on Ash's face. His fingers squeezed and Ash found himself grinning, because Eiji was being playful and completely calm about being chased by zombies.

"Does this mean you'll wear leather trousers?" Ash asked. It was better than any other thoughts that were going through his head.

"If you sew me into them."

I think that could be arranged.” Ash was still smiling. He wanted to keep smiling, but whatever spell had come over him had broken. Eiji’s fingers twitched and it made his stomach turn. It suddenly felt too hot and too heavy. "I can't- hold my hand instead?"

Eiji twisted his fingers into Ash’s outstretched hand instead. “Sure.”

“Eiji, I –“ Ash broke off. He was slowing down, now. Reality was coming back too quickly. “I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go now that – that –“

That Shorter was-

“Don't,” Eiji said and squeezed Ash’s fingers. “Don't think about it. Just - let's just focus on our next step. Do you know where Soo-Ling is?

“He was meant to be with Shorter.”

“What about Max?”

Ash dropped Eiji’s hand to pull the flip phone out of his breast pocket, handing it to Eiji and not hesitating to take his hand again. "Call him.”

Eiji’s hand was warm in his. Warm and solid and real and it felt like the only thing that was keeping Ash grounded.

“...you have another phone?” Eiji asked. He was flipping it open and going through the contacts.

“Yeah,” Ash said. He was concentrating on the streets – finding his way out of the city. He’d never seen it so empty and it was chilling. “They found my real one and a burner when I came through the door. They wouldn't think of finding another one.”

“That’s how you managed to talk to Shorter?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy. But the phone signal – it’s still operating from within the mansion. There are some others that he turned off remotely. I flicked them back on whilst he was asleep to send it.”

Eiji smiled at him. “Aren’t you smart?”

And Ash couldn’t answer that. Partly because he couldn’t find the words to respond to this Eiji, but partly because it wasn’t true. If he was smart he could have found another way around this. He wouldn’t have gone there in the first place. He wouldn’t have made shitty deals. He wouldn’t have shot his best friend.

The phone was at Eiji’s ear. He lowered it slowly. “It’s not going through.”

“What?”

“There's no signal,” Eiji said, checking it.

“Fucking bastard. Must have turned it off when I wasn’t looking.”

“It might have been the zombies.”

Ash took a breath. They were back on the main road from the city. Going back up the hill that they had rolled down on a bicycle. Ash had been whooping then. He had been overjoyed and a part of him was now.

“They'll be at the farmhouse,” Ash said. He wasn’t sure why he knew that.

“Are you sure?”

“No.” Ash sighed, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. “I'm not sure of anything. Don't even think I know how to get back there.”

“It’s somewhere safe,” Eiji said. “Let’s go. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eiji whispered, “okay, sweetie.”

That made Ash’s heart flutter and relax like a dying moth. He could breathe, just, and his fingers tightened around Eiji’s. Eiji dropped their hands onto his lap, leaning back in his seat and taking a deep breath out.

The streetlights weren’t working, and Ash still wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the farmhouse. But their headlights cast a silver moon on the tarmac in front of them. It was oddly comforting – to not have to worry about what was beyond that light. They were safe, they were travelling away from danger, and now they were heading to safety.

And that was more than enough for now.

[thesteamhat]

the making of Something Old, Something New TLDR: Paintings are Essays and stories of their own creation. This is how I Fan art. Fantasy Art is more than just dragons and wizards. I owe a lot of my integrity to the work of Wizards of the Coast. If you don’t want to read it, thanks for being an audience, if you like this piece as much as I do, maybe consider buying a print HERE So now and then, very rarely in recent times, you make the piece you are most proud of, what makes pieces like this, to you, so important is often they act like little essays of what’s going on in your mind captured in your visual artistic abilities. Firstly, I only found out I was a part of the @lightgreyartgallery Gallery, Link HERE  (<= CLICK IT, there are some AMAZING artworks in there and I am humbled and honored to be amongst some of them) about 20 days after I should have, I had roughly ten days to make this piece happen.  But this piece has been rattling around my head for a very long time, for multiple reasons I have wanted to paint my reimagining of Wurmcoil Engine for several months now, taking influence from Old Phyrexia moreso than it’s more smooth styles now, the old grimy exposed biomechanical monstrocities they were when they first struck fear into the multiverse of Mtg. And I have loved drawing gnarled monstrous teeth since I was like, 14 and found my first salvation from the Anime style black hole, with the work of Dave Allsop. The piece clicked after a while of me researching angels and their less common eldritch appearance, I love angel mythology because it’s some of the first cases when Fantasy Art as we first would understand it, was born, when artists, with patronage from the church, began to capture the more mythological visuals in a realistic believable way, these were the stepping stones towards imaginative realism, and with this classical painters began adding realism to images of the Minotaur and Gorgons. Naturally tribute goes to Frazetta and his pulp colleagues for making Fantasy Art a valid genre of Art, but Angels and Demons have their seats at some of the earliest forms of what we now know as fantasy art. In this there are many scriptures that make the ranks of angels far more than just winged humans, ranging to anthropomorphic shoggoths of wings and animals to 6 winged seraphim covered in eyes and the strange mechanical flying objects of the ophanim or thrones. In taking inspiration for these and looking up eldritch angels, finding the obvious references being made with the Eldrazi as they stretch between @bugmeyer art and the Angel Eldrazi of Shadows over Innistrad. Suddenly my speculative Vorthos fired up and I couldn’t stop thinking of this simple story I wanted to tell. So, there’s a fairly obvious storytelling theme a lot of my work recently, it’s an inevitable marriage of what I want to draw and paint from what’s inspiring me, and a drive to improve the storytelling purposes of illustration, there’s an easy way to tell a story visually and that’s through duality. Duality is simple, it’s a clear and obvious conflict presented to an audience, old vs new, mechanical vs natural, good vs evil, light vs dark or simple, Thing vs ANOTHER Thing that isn’t the first Thing: This was sort of struck on when I found the work of @gallerygerard and I was hooked, there’s a lot of pieces depicting smaller warriors facing off Balrogs or Giant Wolves and the narrative being presented is inescapable, so yeah, I wanted to be able to do that too. So this piece is definitely not the last of something like this I’ll do, I hardly think I’ve mastered the simple diorama of this at all, but this piece was definitely all because I started pushing for that. (also helps that I can make some money off designs like this because they make killer playmats.) So before I get to Magic and it’s influence on me... I need to talk about Paint. I am not a painter, every time I have attempted to mark a canvas or board with wet or traditional has failed horribly and I escaped to the confines and safety of digital from a young age, on the upside it’s definitely saved me a LOT of money avoiding paint, but truly, I never really have touched it all again. But then I gave a good proper look at the work of Ryan Pancoast, Steve Prescott and the Man who taught me about colour, Jesper Ejsing . I have SO much respect for their work, nothing comes close to how much a piece inspires me as seeing it in physical paint, there’s a strange sort of magic (hehe) with the bravery of what is being done with a brush to capture wholly what makes a piece unique when it’s literal material smeared, dabbed and layered on a canvas. I tried to capture this by making the design intricate and filled with visual eccentricity and natural texture, as well as using the literal shape of marks made to really push the values to try to tell a bolder narrative with this piece. I cannot list the ways I think I failed at this, but I only want to learn and keep practicing when a piece like this comes just a little close to capturing that magic. An additional mention on the artists above, the pure bravery of making work that looks so perfectly not of this world in an industry plagued by stoic realism is nothing but inspiring, I truly want to achieve as Elsing puts it: “a window looking into another world.“ Interestingly I struggle with fan art, every now and then there’s a thing I like at the time so I make something to celebrate it, I however often lose interest before making it an actually good ‘to my own standard‘. Magic allows me to still stretch my own creative wings, my own imagination being allowed to play amongst an established universe that no other Fan Art allows me to. Magic’s art direction told me it was okay to be a bit weird. It’s no secret that I aspire to work on Magic the Gathering art, to give contributions that could only come from myself and aren’t just attempts to be ‘that kid who makes art that looks like it was made by Prescott/Ejsing‘ so the eclecticism there, while attempting to learn the secrets their work holds and putting it into my work. I love the fact that through the years I’ve seen work come out of Mtg, that has truly allowed artists to put their own unique vision into a game with such a flowing world. To follow the gushing about Mtg, this card game has had a massive effect on my development, whilst it’s definitely John Howe’s Smaug to be the piece that opened a door to me to Fantasy Art, it was also a little card called Vizzerdrix from Starter, that fully made me fall in love with Magic’s art, that made sure that one of my aspirations would be to make art alongside pieces like it. Once I’d grown up a bit Magic’s art and art direction allowed me to discover artists, some already mentioned, that would show me how it’s done: Throughout my portfolio in the past I have made little attempts at the sharp lighting and texture of a Tyler Jacobson facet or the bold journey of colour through an Ejsing and the brave shape of a Raymond Swanland . And I’d be lying if I didn’t mention that Magic has taught me both a love of games and the value in just going outside and meeting someone new, and having a conversation with someone over our mutual love of slinging spells, beating people’s faces in with an array of creatures and the elegant game of drawing and flopping cards.  I love that whilst I needed it to be there for me, Magic was, from the fact that when I’ve been at my lowest darkest moments, I could go out and enjoy playing Magic with someone, to the marvelous time of becoming more aware of challenging myself with more diversity to my characters and worlds, Magic’s art and story seemed to agree. Thank you Magic. So here’s this piece, what I see as my way to pay tribute to 25 years (that’s almost my age) of Magic the Gathering, it’s only a whisper of it’s effect and influence on me whilst I am hoping it feels as awesome a piece as I feel it is right at this moment. This month is insanity for me, my participation in the Gallery is a true first, my partially developed tabletop game Disastles is making massive progress over on Kickstarter (please take a look at that HERE) and that product and the relationships it’s making are laying the groundwork for something to be announced in the near future which is literally a career moment for me. I needed to just talk about this exact moment in time and I am so happy that I have this piece that’s just a small snippet of my life where a lot is going on, as in every life, and it’s just (as Fantasy Art almost always is) a lot more than a monster fighting another monster. Thanks for reading if you did I tried to share a lot of my influences both for context but especially because if you like art, you owe it to yourself to know some of these names and see their work, I owe so much to them myself

[paperhatcollection]

Pain - Hunger, Chapter 3

Black Hat wants to learn a little more about Flug’s more interesting half.  ((Co-wrote this story with http://rachrar.tumblr.com/ who helped me rp out the main plot points. The vast majority of Black Hat's actions and words come directly from them, and they even beta read it for me. Guess who forgot burned flesh doesn't bleed- hint, it's me. ))

Black Hat had been around for millennia, and yet he still found his curiosity peaked every now and then by particularly interesting puzzles. And now with the knowledge of Flug’s inhuman nature, he was brimming with the desire to understand Flug.

He ate souls, but how? Did the corpse need to be part of the feeding? How did the soul feed Flug’s? Did he eat specific pieces? And most importantly, how far could he actually push Flug before he broke?

Oh, and what exactly was he?

“Flug.” Black Hat spoke, his greeting casual as he pushed open the door to the lab. He was looking the the man- ha, creature, and knew he was sure to be found in his lab. “We have to talk.”

Flug was used to Black Hat showing up unannounced, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant. He briefly fumbled with the beaker in his hand before setting it down carefully on the table, careful not to jolt the sensitive solution inside too much, or he’d lose half his lab.

“Oh, um, yes, yes sir?” he asked, shuffling away from his work table and fidgeting with the edges of his coat. He mentally went over any reason his boss would want to talk to him out of nowhere… and given recent events, it was pretty clear. “Do you need anything?”

Black Hat wasn’t concerned if his interest in the matter was so transparent, if anything, he was amused; Flug knew him fairly well. What a good little scientist.

“Don’t play coy with me, Doctor. You know exactly what I wish to talk about. Now come over here and remove that bag over your head. It’s time to turn the tables on examinations.” he smirked, removing his gloves. Oh, he nearly shivered in his excitement.

Flug flinched a little, glancing away from that wide grin spreading across his boss's face- he could see the large, razor fangs inside, twice his owns size, if not more. “Of course sir.” Flug responded gravely, feeling as if he was agreeing to be cut up into little pieces.

Rather than remove his bag at once, he clapped his hands twice, dimming the bright lights in the lab. In such a large lab, it could be a hassle to cross the lab just to dim the lights… though they also dimmed automatically when it was late, when he normally fed on would-be experiments.

His hands flicked to his bag, removing the both the paper bag and goggles all at once. It exposed his face, the mouth full of sharp teeth and his reversed eyes, some of the most striking features of his.. other heritage.

If Black Hat was irritated at the lowered light level, or simply accepted it as a prerequisite to seeing Flug’s face, he didn’t show it. Rather, his own expression was almost bored as he grasped Flug’s chin with thin, sharp fingers, turning his face too and fro. “Open.” He commanded, tapping Flug’s lips demandingly. Of course, he’d seen those teeth before, but they were his favorite part about the little scientist so far.

Flug couldn't help but shiver as he obeyed, fiddling with his hands again. He was used to studying, not being studied.

Black Hat ran his fingers across the other's jaw, dancing over those- oh. His interest spiked once he realized there was a secondary set of teeth, half the size and hidden behind the first. Fascinating. He touched one, pressing his finger down on the point rather sharply.

The teeth were sharper than he’d realized thus far, easily cutting through his flesh. His eyes widened as he pulled his hand back, looking closely as the way his green blood oozed from his cut finger.

“I was not expecting that.” he mused. “I have yet to meet another being unlike like myself that could truly wound me- unless we count you.”

Flug slowly closed his jaw, hit with the taste of wrong filling his mouth. It made him want to vomit. Black Hat tasted so… unnatural.

“S-sorry sir.” he muttered, hand instinctively reaching for his paper bag before he jerked his hand back down, fumbling with his fingers.

Gotta keep the bag off for now.

He cleared his throat. “Do, um, d-do you have any idea what I might be?” he asked hopefully.

Black Hat waved away the apology, unconcerned. It was a small cut, and fairly clean. He’d faced much worse. And from the looks of things, Flug wasn’t venomous. He closed his fist for a moment, opening it once the cut was corrected back into a flawless finger.

What sharp little teeth. He liked them.

“There are hundreds of beings with teeth and that eat souls. Granted, most of them are individuals. And crafted." He re-manifested his glove, tugging them over his hands."I can think of a couple that are native to this plane, but there are no clear indicators to any in particular just yet."

He’d need a little more information about his dear Doctor before could pin it… speaking of which-

“That being said… how old are you really, Flug?” Black Hat asked. He’d begun to notice Flug’s lack of… aging, in the handful of years the other had worked with him. He was never very good at keeping track of human timetables, but for once he felt confident that no, it was the other person who wasn't aging as he should.

Flug paused, glancing off and shrugging. "Maybe about... somewhere around a hundred... maybe a hundred fifty?" he guessed. "I uh, stopped bothering to keep track after a while." He explained, kicking a spare bolt across the floor with his foot. He seemed a tad embarrassed about not knowing the exact date of his birth.

"So… young, then." Black Hat rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. A recent creature, or at least a relatively modern one. It was a shame-- some of the older cryptids were ones he knew next to nothing about, and now he never would. Oh well.

"Do you regenerate?" Black Hat asked, but didn't leave any time after for Flug to answer before grabbing the man's hand, jerking the yellow glove off in one swift motion. His forked tongue danced over the bare skin, teeth mere inches from taking off a finger to find out the answer.

Flug jerked back, attempting to free himself on reflex, but didn’t seem to be able to break out of Black Hat’s grip. His hand curled slightly, but the finger stuck over Black Hat’s grip failed to do so, or it would have cut itself. Each finger had a thick black claw covering the last joint, a feature Black Hat had noticed when he’d last made Flug hunt down that hero.

"Y-Yes but o-only when I e-eat." he stuttered out quickly, attempting to steer away from that fate. Flug had never- he wasn't good at handling pain.

"Oh, that's not a problem," Black Hat answered, almost cheerful. "You know I'll not starve you."

He bit into Flug's skin, intrested to see if it would resist him. A tad disappointingly, his teeth cut through Flug’s finger the same as if would any mortal flesh. But what did interest him… what was it, that taste, it was on the tip of his tongue- ah.

The taste of rot filled his tastebuds; fitting for a creature that ate the life force of another being. Curious; could he consume Black Hat's life? Not a soul, surely, but whatever it was that made him him.

Flug was already whimpering pathetically, and Black Hat had only bitten through half his finger thus far. Deciding to have a little mercy to such a loyal and hardworking minion, he allowed Flug to keep the finger.

He shrugged, letting go of the man's hand. "I would prefer not to hear you whine about your finger for hours." he tsked, as a hint for Flug to shut up. "What do you know of your own abilities?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly. As much as he’d love to keep poking and biting Flug until he had all his answers, he was a busy man with stuff to do to keep this company running.

Flug paused for a second, a little unsure. He’d kept so much of himself secret for so long, it felt almost taboo to speak about himself out loud… but he’d really rather not get Black Hat mad at him… besides, the demon was his best chance at figuring out what he was.

"W-Well, I have night-vision, I'm fast at climbing, um, and digging, I have s-strong scent and taste,” he paused, glancing down at his bitten finger before stumbling out the rest of his answer. “-and I'm im-impervious to, to a lot of things, like poisons, drugs, gasses, the cold, stuff like that."

Black Hat paused, contemplating all of this lovely information. Impervious to poisons, drugs, gasses, and even the cold? Oh, this was going to be so easy to exploit. In fact, he should teach Flug a command for attack and he’d have an interesting pet… though he supposed Flug was already enough of one as it was, monster bits aside. “How much have you experimented upon yourself?” he asked, still musing over the possibilities.

Flug fidgeted, looking away and gulping. "I've been running experiments since I was a kid. And... I've used a fair number of the weapons I've made here on myself, to test them and... test myself." He explained, keeping things simple.

Black Hat shook his head, taking again. "No no, don't be vague with me, Doctor. I want details. What did you do to yourself? Did you ever get a scar?" He plucked at the doctor's coat. "Take it off, I want to see."

Flug flinched, sliding his coat off his shoulders before setting it on a table. However, his remaining glove and shirt still covered most of his chest. Oddly enough, there did seem to be a few small, but noticeably red scars on the side of his one free arm.

"M-Most everything that hurts m-me is healed by my next feeding but... the one thing I've found that can really hurt me is fire." he muttered, half hoping Black Hat wouldn’t hear. As if.

"Fire?" The eldritch being nearly lit up with a cruel sort of joy. "Fire scars you permanently?" Visions of branding Flug danced through his mind. Oh, the fun he could have- maybe he should use a flame to add tally marks with to his skin, one for every time Flug disappointed him.

Flug paled a little at that look- the, ‘I’m about to eat you alive’ look. He stepped back, fumbling with his hands again before gripping his shirt.Maybe... he should start keeping things to himself. “That’s, um, t-that’s all…” he muttered, looking slightly past Black Hat at the door.

"Oh no no no, Flug, there's no escaping me." Black Hat tsked once more, stepping closer as his presence stretched a touch higher, just to cast a shadow over the fearful man. "And don't even think about lying." He purred, reaching out and grabbed Flug's neck, just tight enough to hint at his strength but not enough to actually cause any physical symptoms.

"Are we on the same page, Doctor?"

Flug shot a hand to the hand on his throat, gulping and feeling his adam's apple bob against the cool flesh. A cold shiver dropped down his spine as he nodded quickly.

”Y-Yes sir, of course, clear as day~" he squeaked with what air he had, his voice raised in clearly false joy. "N-Nothing hidden between us~"

‘pleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtme’ he thought, his gaze darting away

"Good boy." Black Hat let go of the man's throat to pat at his paperless cheek patronizingly. "That being said... Why don't you try to learn to lie better, hm?"

He stepped back, his aura folding in on himself smoothly. Apart from his unnatural coloration and lack of nose (and teeth, and, well, most of everything), the air around him seemed almost human. There was no radiating malice, just a faint smile mocking Flug.

“Anything else I should know?” Black hat asked, amused as he watched Flug recover. The smaller being shook his head, posture meek and submissive- Flug knew his place.

“Very well. Now, Doctor, why don’t you get back to work? Surely I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Black Hat said, clapping his hands twice as he’d seen Flug do without thinking. His mind was distracted by what he’d learned, already putting together the pieces with what he knew of known souleaters- in fact, the scene that played out in front of him took him entirely by surprise.

The lights snapped to full brightness, and almost instantly Flug let out a loud S C R E E C H of pain, the palms of his hands smashing over his eyes. He scrambled back back, falling on his bottom and crawling under a table, keeping a hand covering his eyes and letting out a few whimpers of pain.

Ah. That explained why he lowered the lights prior to removing the paper bag. His eyes were photosensitive to an extreme degree. Mentally mapping the location of the laboratory in relation to the outside, Black Hat contemplating ripping open the side to let sunlight pour in… he set it aside; the laboratory was underground, and furthermore, there was the dining room between the room and the sun. He was not about to ruin such a room just to spite Flug.

Instead, he tilted his head, then walked over, kneeling to look at Flug. There was a bored sort of pity in his gaze, akin to looking at a squirming roach stuck on its back. A sad, pathetic little creature without a way to defend itself, good for nothing more than being squashed.

So- a creature that hunts and eats humans, but is close enough in form to successfully cross-breed with its prey. The offspring had minimal differences from the default human shape, along with added immunity to the cold, but with a fatal weakness to fire and the light. Seemingly ageless- or maybe he’d died a long time ago, if the fact he tasted like a rotting corpse was any indication.

And as Flug lacked an extra mouth on his stomach or the back of his head, that left one option.

He may know what Flug consists of, and how he eats as well as why, but he was not particularly familiar with earth's cryptids, finding them far too pathetic to bother knowing the names of.

He wasn’t telling Flug, of course.

“Something to tell me, Flug?” he tsked, grabbing the other's bag off the table and tossing it onto his shivering form. Flug clung to it almost immediately, shoving it on so quickly Black Hat was surprised it didn’t tear in two.

He waited until Flug had seemingly readjusted, turning his attention back to his disappointed boss.

“I recall you saying your weakness was fire alone… or did you not think I needed to know this bit?” Black Hat asked, keeping his voice even. He enjoyed watching the way Flug still jerked back, shivers darting down the inventors form. Yes. His scientist knew him well, indeed.

“I, er- I didn’t mean, I meant, light is a-attached to flames- I d-didn’t think-” he stuttered, silenced when Black Hat reached under the desk, grabbing the front of Flug’s shirt and yanking him out, standing back up to his full height.

“No, you didn’t think, did you Flug?” Black Hat asked, shaking his head. “A shame, I’ll have to punish you so you know to behave~”

Flug whimpered at that, curling up a little under his boss's grip like a kitten. He knew better than to fight back. But… oh god, what if Black hat decided to burn him? Or… or throw him outside without his goggles, or into the sun?!

Maybe that last one wasn’t possible or reasonable.

Black Hat turned, shifting Flug to hold him under a hand as he briskly walked out of the lab, humming a little tune to himself as he made his way to his bedroom- the perfect spot. He kicked open the door, making his way to the bed before dumping Flug onto it.

“Strip off that shirt, and lay on your back.” he commanded, confident Flug would obey the order.

He stepped away, manifesting his powers to create something long and slim, widening at one end into an intricate top hat design. The inside was decorated  with a nice cursive B above and to the left off a H, filling the Hat shape nearly entirely. Black Hat made his way to an elaborate fireplace, snapping his fingers to light it with sharp, green flames before he’d even arrived. He gleefully stuck the brand in, watching it start to turn red and hot under the intense magical heat.

Flug really wished his sensed weren't as strong- he flinched as he heard a sound cut through the air, best described as 'metal straining slightly as it heated up and expanded by a few millimeters', set against a background of a flickering fire.

Mentally, he tried to imagine himself somewhere else, as if it could erase the oncoming pain. Still, he did as he had been ordered, his eyes clearly locked on the brand the whole time, his expression unreadable under his bag. He watched as Black Hat removed the device of Flug's impending pain with a pleased look on his face, sinking back onto the bed as if trying to distance himself further, his throat nearly sandpaper.

The weight of what was about to happen seemed to be crushing his lungs, while his eyes slid from the red hot metal of the brand, to the approaching demon holding it. Part of him wanted to bolt at the mere sight of the brand while another part of him that won out suggested that running would only make things worse, since he knew Black Hat would catch him.

Before he’d even arrived at the bed, Black Hat snapped and manifested inky black tentacles, which shot out from under the bed to pin Flug down. Sure, Flug wasn't going to run away, but he was going to be in incredible amounts of pain, and nobody can control flinching. This brand was going to be perfect, even if he had to cover Flug entirely with his powers apart from the part to be branded.

Black Hat climbed atop the bed, holding the brand up so it didn't touch anything and start a fire, then straddled Flug. It was to give the best view and most careful application. He ran his hand over Flug's chest, keen eye tracking every muscle as he decided where he wanted the brand to go. He smirked as he made his choice, flipping the brand upside down, aligning it with a critical eye.

He aimed it over the center of Flug's chest, right above that rapidly beating heart. He only got one chance at this. He took a deep breath, steadying himself with some extra tendrils to keep his hands steady, and pressed it down on Flug's skin.

Flug screeched in pain the moment the brand touched his skin, attempting to jerk away from the pain on reflex only to remain frozen and trapped by the tentacles encasing him.

It felt as if liquid fire was spreading over the skin surrounding the forming wound, the flesh cauterizing near instantly under the intense heat, as the top layer of flesh just under the brand burned away. Whatever strange protection he seemed to have to chemicals and literally everything else faltered here, letting him taste the full force of the assault on his skin.

At some point his mind plunged into a point when all he could register was something along the lines of painpainpain and silent begging for it to stop.

Black Hat nearly lost himself… that screaming was exquisite. Truly some of the best he had heard in his many, many years, and definitely some of the most satisfying, especially with the sizzle and crack of the man's skin. He held the brand in place for just a few seconds, but he was sure that it would feel like an eternity. He pulled it up, amused when the burnt flesh stuck to the iron, then sent it away to the void.

Flug was dimly aware that he was sobbing by this point, and the pain felt like it was tearing right through his body, leaving him broken and weak. Suddenly, Black Hat’s hand pressed down over his forming scar, causing his voice to raise in pain once more- before cutting out and leaving him silent, his voice giving out after all his yelling.

Black Hat watched in amusement before Flug faltered and passed out- a touch disappointing, really. He sighed and stepped away, straightening his coat before walking out of the room, closing the door as he went.

He needed to get Flug a bite to eat once he awoke.