#but being stuck in a tunnel in the dark like that might be a whole diff issue lol

[broodygaming]

gods im so grateful i dont have a claustrophobic bone in my body this is awful on every objective scale haha

[ghxstmxchine]

ꜱɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ (NSFW, Hobie x gn!reader)

It’s so horrifyingly embarrassing.

That’s all you can think as you stand in front of the microphone, trying to muster up an at least somewhat realistic moan. Hobie thought it’d be a funny detail in his new song, presenting the idea to you with the same shit eating grin he was currently giving you from the bean bag he’s laying on. 

To him it was nothing, completely unbothered with the times he’s stood on stage moaning into the mic, sinking to his knees as he made sounds that perfectly mirrored the same ones that followed backstage when you both fucked on the couch. Desperate, loud and horny, enough to drive the fans wild and for you to be stuck between either pretending you didn’t know him or wanting to drag him backstage immediately.

He was shameless. At the moment, you were anything but.

So he takes it into his own hands, it’s not like the rest of his band will be back anytime soon. Hobie’s pushing you down onto the couch adjacent to the mic stand and pulling your pants down without an ounce of shame. You cling uselessly to the arm of the couch, gasping as his nimble finger slides over your hips and beneath the band of your underwear.

Soon enough he’s fucking you, cock sliding in and out of you with ease as his hips clap against your ass. Hobie’s fingers are buried in your hair, pulling your head back so not a single one of your noises can be muffled, forced to voice every sound of pleasure as his cock slides into your hole, so deep you might cry.

“C’mon, y’like this shi’ right? Like me fuckin’ ya? Can’t hear ya, dove.” Hobie groans deep in your ear, spitting complete filth as he eggs you on to be louder. He slaps your ass, bruising the supple flesh with a dark mark in the shape of his hand. You yelp and he grinds his cock deeper, massaging that sweet spot as a reward for being noisy.

“Scared the whole world's gonna hear what a slut ya are? Whinin’ on m’cock like yer desperate for i’?” He’s fucking you like he’s trying to prove his point, bullying his cock inside you and abusing your poor hole in the most delicious way possible. You’re sweating, skin sticking to the leather of the couch as every thrust jostles you. His hand grasps your jaw, urging you to moan for him.

Moans and gasps flow from your mouth with ease, as if the second he slid his cock inside you every bit of shame disappeared. You're whining on his dick, bouncing your hips to meet his every thrust as his length reaches deep, punching out cries from deep in your chest. The mic picks up every whine and whimper crystal clear, a symphony with just your noises, little “ah ah ah”’s falling from your lips with every thrust.

“That’s i’, just like that…” Hobie moans as he pounds into you at a frenzied pace, gradually caring less and less about his bandmates walking in on you too. He was too obsessed to stop, drunk off your noises. “S’that all it takes? A good dickin’ down to get ya t’sing fer me?”

He slows his hips to a deep grind, rolling his hips and letting his dick rub so sweetly against your sensitive walls, balls wet with lube and spit rubbing against you. Spit slick kisses are pressed to your shoulder, his deep voice echoing in your ear. “C’mon, tell me how bad y’want me to fuck you.” Lust outweighs your shame, tears threatening to fall down your sweet face as you try to hump against him. You can’t take it, tunnel vision solely on your pleasure and how badly you need it. “I-I want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours-” You cry out, forgetting about the mic that was still recording.

“So good… all jus’ f’me…” Hobie groans as he picks up the pace, pounding into you. He was definitely keeping that in.

[ppnuggiexxx]

-> CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

•| was it truly worth taking his word for it? how does one even enter hell, or was this all some strange cosplayer’s roleplay you happened to get roped in?

•| taglist :: @z4rph1m ,, @theultimatewaffle

        "fine!" as crazy as the whole situation was, you accepted his invitation. how else do you tell the supposed king of wrath no? not to mention the guys name is satan. honestly, if youre lucky these guys might be cosplayers. but the whole situation seemed surreal, the angel seemed too real.

        "follow me," he smiled and grabbed your hand before leading you away. "where are we going?" you questioned. he led you off the mainroad and into a forest, soon getting lost and turned around with the repeated trees. going into a forest you dont know or aren't acquainted with feels like youre in there for eternity. "the first gate of hell is where we're going." he stated.

        gate? what did he by the first gate? how many are there? "what do you mean?" you asked him, not caring that he still gripped your hand in his. his red eyes looked back at you before looking ahead of him again. "hell is gated off into different sections. there are nine gates in total; three of stone, three of brass, then three of iron." he explained.

        "it's to ensure utmost secrecy and security between the worlds. heaven has nine gates as well. though if you were to gaze upon them there would be nothing. its impossible for a human to see the gates unless theyre an angel. its what makes heaven quite hard to find."

        the deeper in he led you, the darker and colder the forest became. your hands went to your forearms and rubbed against them, your body hunching over to try and maintain as much body heat as you could. it almost felt like it was winter despite it being spring.

        ahead a dark cavern appeared into the side of a mountainside. you didnt even know there were mountains in the area. "who's that?" you pointed to a figure waiting around the cavern.

        "chaos. they usually guard outside of the gates. its to ensure any soul taken to hell doesn't attempt to escape." satan explained, saying a brief hello to chaos before entering the cave. "it does get dark and wet fast, so watch out where you step. ill lead the way though so stay close behind me."

        you nodded and glanced at chaos. they were a creature of unknown nature, they werent humanoid in any way yet didnt look like an animal. it was as though they were a clumb of skin, a few eyes sticking out and having a singular hand at the top. bones and blood stuck out from it. its hard to describe a being that made you feel like puking your insides out upon first glance. you turned your head away from chaos quite fast. you didnt want to look at them if you didnt have to.

        "can you tell me more about hell?" you asked and followed after satan, noting how dark it got. your hands stuck out in front of you, catious with your steps in case you run into a wall.

        "what do you want to know?" he asked, walking swiftly down the tunnel.

        "like, about the inside. where in hell are you taking me? is there cities? or is it like how biblical books say it is, a rampant city filled with torture and death?" you asked, curious as to what you would see. its not every day you take a trip to hell after all.

"well, we're going to gehenna. thats where i rule in hell. there are seven different nations, and to get to them you have to go through the gates. gehenna is protected by the first stone gate." he said before stopping in his tracks. "the further down you go, the colder it becomes. the more of a wasteland hell is until you reach abbadon at the bottom. abbadon is hotter than anywhere in hell, its the core of it. under abbadon? im not sure what lies there." he said.

"now, we wont be able to continue walking through. you'll have to crawl. its wet though, so be careful." he warned before taking off his jacket and holding it out to you. you raised an eyebrow at him before taking it and putting it on. "is there water?" you asked. he simply nodded before dropping to his knees and hands, crawling into a small hole. it was hard to see anything but the area itself closed off abruptly into a small crawl space.

who knew hell would be tricky to get to? you soon got on your knees and hands, the stone beneath you slick and cold. maybe you shouldve asked if he had gloves. feeling around for the hole, you had a small idea of how big it was, which wasnt that big at all. you had to keep your head down so you wouldnt hit it on the top of the crawl space.

crawling through felt weird, at random points it felt warm, then cold again. it was a repeated process, and sometimes it felt like something was touching you at certain parts. hopefully it was just the rock and nothing else.

"be careful up here, it gets smaller. you'll have to crawl on your stomach here." satan warned from ahead of you. it was like how people described entering hell to be. being forced to crawl on their stomachs, wriggling like serpents to trespass into hell.

it was hard to move through. your breathing quickening as you wriggled around in the tunnel. just how long was this going to take? how far down is hell? were you even going down, or was it straight? how was minhyeok? it had to of been morning by now, and he would be worried. maybe you shouldn't have came along, maybe you shouldve gone back to minhyeok?

it was too late to turn around now, incapable of moving backwards without knowing where you were going exactly. there had been a few turns through the tunnel. and you couldnt turn your body around, it was too cramped to do so.

"stop...." what was that? you couldnt see where the voice came from, but it sounded right on top of you. "hello?" you called out.

        "stop....moving." it almost sounded as though it was struggling to talk, like their words were forced between harsh breaths. you squinted your eyes and looked around as best as you could, desperate to find where it came from.

        "ignore it." satan called from ahead of you. why? what was it? some sort of mythical creature meant to drag you to temptation? you didnt want to find out, truthfully.

        the tunnel beneath you got slimier, sticking to your hand the further you crawled in. it felt like the stone turned to mush, almost equivalent to fat in a way. you heard a pained groan that didnt come from you or satan. your head tried to look around you, but the tunnel was too narrow. why did the ground beneath you feel oddly like skin?

_______________________________

birds chirped and flew across the sky, city almost a direct copy to any on earth. tall buildings and shops spread around, citizens walking about with their days. the only difference is that they were devils, horns big and visible as satan's. though some had little horns, so little you'd have to squint your eyes to see.

"welcome to gehenna." satan smiled at your expression of awe and wonder. "and welcome to hell." he grabbed your hand again and took you through the streets. it was almost like walking on the red carpet with a celebrity; citizens immediately noticed their king and you beside him. their faces held curiosity yet no ill intent.

he led you towards the largest building in the center of the city. it looked almost similar to a cathedral; stained glass windows covered the outside. it was larger than any you'd seen too. "my nobels and i live here." he explained as though he could read your mind.

        "what are they like?" you asked, a little nervous. you were still wary of the whole 'devil' thing, especially seeing as this seemed as legitimate as it could get. what weirdo shows up randomly to just lead you through a gross and disgusting tunnel into another city? how could a random crackhead explain what chaos was, or the things you saw? not to mention all the devils around you, eyes piercing into the back of your skull. was this just a surreal lucid dream? you didnt even know you could lucid dream.

_______________________________

        loud yells came from inside the room, the sound of complaints and cursing clear as day. satan grinned, waiting a moment before leaning his head against the door. "it seems theyre in an argument," his eyes widened and lit up. he waited another moment before busting the door open, any and all conversation taking place before was stopped.

"your majesty satan!" a blue haired devil announced. he had one horn on the side of his head and eyes similar to satan's, yet his were pink with blue saint peter's crosses. these devils sure like that cross, despite it not being demonic in any way.

        there were six devils in the room altogether, not including satan. one red one, small and squishy with small horns and wings. they had a dopey look on their face. another stood next to the blue haired one, long bangs covered their eyes. their horns were smaller than the others, yet a small red creature sat upon them.

        then a tanned devil with white horns curled over their head, with long white hair and blue eyes. two devils stood the farthest away; one with short hair and a long singular horn. next to him was a devil with three horns, all different colors, long, blonde hair and decked out with the color pink.

        all the devils in the room stood up from their chairs and kneeled before their king. "sitri," satan said to the blue haired devil. he looked up at him, eyes only focused on him. none of the devils bothered to look at you, eyes closed and heads pointed towards to floor.

        "ive found solomon's descendant."

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/N

I never thought I'd find love in this godforsaken hellhole, but then I discovered you. You're the only light in the dark tunnel of my pathetic existence. You're an amazing person, and I don't know how I lived so long before I met you. I know this might sound like bullshit, but seeing you at the end of each day is what keeps my life in this place from going on total autopilot. You mean the whole world to me, and I'd take every bullet in this hellhole without a second thought if it meant that you'd live a better life than me. I know I'm a terrible piece of trash, but you're different. You make me feel like a better person. Even my own sins seem to go away everytime I see your face. I would trade almost everything in this world if it meant that I could wake up next to you every single morning. Seeing your smile gives me more satisfaction than all the alcohol in this universe.

I just don't understand why someone as perfect as you even wanted to be around a degenerate like me. You're so good to me. You're kind, gentle, smart, and beautiful. I could spend the rest of my days with you, and it would never get old. You're the only good thing that's happened to me on this godforsaken hellhole of a planet. I would take being with you over any amount of money, booze, or fame. My time with you is more valuable than any amount of sins I could commit or money I could spend. I know my life's gonna end at some point, but no matter when it'll be, I just want to spend my last moments with you. Every single night, I dream about spending the rest of my life with you. I dream about waking up next to your beautiful face, going out to dinner, going to bed, starting a family, and eventually growing old together. If I didn't have you, my life would be nothing but a torturous, hollow, endless void.

I've never been a believer in fate, but you're the closest thing I've ever gotten to it. Being with you makes me feel like everything that led up to this point was worth it. Every moment of misery, pain, heartache, and regret that I've felt in my life was worth it just to get a chance to spend the rest of my forever with you. My life before you was a never-ending pool of regret and agony. Now, everything seems to be so much... brighter. The only thing that I want to care about is you. I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm being too forward, but the thought of losing you is terrifying. I need you like a man stuck in the desert needs water.

All I want is to make you happy. Seeing you sad hurts me 100 times worse than any injury. I would do anything, anything for you, no matter how painful for me, if it meant you'd keep blissfully smiling at me for the rest of our lives. You're the very reason I keep waking up in the morning. I know this might sound insane, but you're my everything. All these terrible, terrible thoughts, memories, and sins all seem to slip away whenever I'm with you. Seeing your smile makes the demons in my head shut up for just a small moment. You're the perfect balance, the perfect companion. You're kind, smart, funny, and beautiful. I know people tell each other they're 'perfect' all the time, but for you, it's the only description that can do you any justice.

I can never stop thinking about you. My nights are filled with dreams of you, whether they be beautiful or horrifying. Just the thought of you leaves me constantly yearning for more of you. I can't describe with words the amount of pain I feel whenever you're not around. I always need you to be by my side. I always need to be near you. I always need to feel your presence, your touch, your warmth. Every single moment I spend not with you feels like an hour of torment. My mind is just consumed with thoughts of you. I always wonder what you're doing and who you're with. It drives me absolutely crazy. All I want is to keep you in my sights, away from the hands of any other people. Whenever I hear another person talking to you, a part of inside me dies. I don't think anyone else deserves you.

You're all I obsess over all day. I can't stop thinking about how I want to protect you and keep you away from other people. I constantly wonder what you're doing with other people and how you're doing. Are they making you laugh? Giving you gifts? Or maybe just talking to you and complimenting you? Just the thought of that kind of thing makes me burn with jealousy. Everything I do, I do because it might give me a chance to see your radiant smile, or to talk to you. Even this letter, I'm writing to try and get a hold of your heart. I hope that you'll read this and see my feelings, the feelings of an undying, unending love that will never fade away, no matter how many centuries pass by. I hope that this letter makes you feel the same about me, because I don't know what I'd do if you left me.

Forever yours, Husk

[saccharinecoffee]

True love's kiss | LouWill

Pairing ◈ Louis Guiabern & Will

Chapter word count ◈ 2,881

Info & Warnings ◈ Sleeping beauty AU, canon divergence, childhood friends to lovers, first kiss, possessive Louis, spoilers for the whole game!!

Read on Ao3

The fugitive and previous Kingsguard Louis Guiabern returns to the Ancient Eldan Sanctum for the first time in five years. His objective: to save his only friend and love from a curse he did not cast.

Louis checked his pocket watch as his Skyrunner approached The Eldan Sanctum. Five years to the day. Five years since he watched in horror as his closest friend’s eyes fluttered closed for the last time, surrounded by dark, blood red vines that dug into his skin and left his body limp on the ground. He wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, and that guilt weighed him down ever since.

Always on the run, he’d been since then. Always in search across the land for new magics, new potions and ingredients that might break the spell and bring him back to his shattered heart.

His was a hardened heart, even then as it broke. Darkened from disaster and loss and grief, layered and rough and impenetrable to that very day. But his prince was always his exception. Idealistic, but nothing like his father. Naive and gentle, but smarter than half the veterans who’d supervised him in the military. He was the only one who knew of his identity. He was the only one who could know. And how he’d loved Louis the more for it.

My Charadrius, he’d jested fondly. You’ll fly to me and cure me of any misfortune, won’t you?

Every day he would gaze upon his looking glass and greet his slumbering face. He looked as peaceful as he did awake, despite his complexion growing ashen in the shade of the inner Sanctum. He’d get him back. His runner would reach its destination soon, and his well-practised incantations were ready to be cast.

It would be a hit-and-run type of mission. With his status as a fugitive and a traitor to the crown, he only had one shot at infiltrating. Chaos would be their friend – with enough commotion outside the entrance, enough allies following his orders and plenty of swiftly cast spells, he’d make his way through and down the long trek to the Sactum unscathed. At least that was the plan.

His lungs burned as he ran, sweat beading on his neck as his hair stuck to his face. The scent of earth and greenery grew heavier with every flight of stairs, magla growing thicker and giving the air a static quality. His legs, toned and agile, struggled to keep up with each and every step without slipping and falling, his armour and igniters weighing down his frantic speed. He was unforgiving, shoving whomever stood in his way to the side, sounds of yelping and clattering echoing around deaf ears. He was never magnanimous and caring like his prince was, always single minded on survival and expertise to a near-cruel degree. The years he spent apart from his prince only solidified that fact, his cynicism and frost-cold eyes only sharpening.

He did it all for him. Without him, he felt as though he had no one left. He’d have nothing else. And by god would he burn the world down to ash if that came to be true.

With a flurry of elemental magic, the large doors at the foot of the tunnel blasted open. Eldas scattered like ants in a panic, some running away from him while others rushed to the chamber he knew housed his prince.

The entire time he’d been in his travels across Euchronia, he’d kept his bitterness at bay. His pride as he conquered every beast and dragon and lair he could get his hands on was enough to spur him on in his quest. And he did admirably so, collecting and reading and building his repertoire of knowledge, all for his prince, all for one singular life.

Now though, as he inched impossibly close to his goal, every step closer to his beloved, he felt it all brust in his chest. It was maddening, being made as the villain. They would never know his strife. They could never reach his ankles in the lengths he’d gone through. They saw themselves so good yet hadn’t put themselves in half the danger he did for the sake of their prince. Stoicism failed him then, as a deep scowl etched through his expression, unsheathing his infused sword and slicing through his opponents with fire. Their pain-wracked, bloodied bodies meant nothing to him. If they wanted their lives they should have known better than to stand in his way.

He rushed through a last pair of doors and felt his heart nearly leap out his throat as he met his prince once more. He didn’t have the time to take in his sleeping form, to revel in finally touching him once again. He was on borrowed time, he reminded himself, and so he cast the first spell, blocking the entrance with a barrier invisible to the naked eye. He knew it worked when people quickly gathered and started to bang desperately at the magla with their fists. He paid them no mind and made his way around the altar his prince lay in.

He cracked a smile without meaning to.

Will was taller, his cheeks less pudgy and hair long enough to reach past his waist. He’d truly grown in his slumber, no longer a mirage to muse over but a real boy turned to man, waiting so sweetly for the worst of his knights to come to his aid.

His prince would never admit it out loud but he would stifle a laugh each time he insisted Louis was good. He knew better, but senselessly insisted anyways. It only made his cold heart swell and break all the worse.

He brought a hand to his face, nervous fingertips gently grazing the apple of his cheek, and down the slope of his face to his jaw.

“Hi,” he whispered, a little incredulous and a little overwhelmed. “I tried my best, Will. For you.”

He then took a step back and closed his eyes, his focus tremendous as he recited the enchantments he’d worked and bled just to find. A great light emanated above the prince’s heart, something angry red, fighting against him as he proceeded with each step in the process. White, yellow and blue fought red, black and purple, the effort growing so hard he began to huff and grunt and scream into the curse’s source.

In the end, he collapsed, a great blinding light refracting all around in lieu of a soundless explosion. The impact reverberated across the Sactum, vibrations rattling the earth and shoving him roughly against the stone wall. He panted, hands pushing his hair back and wiping the sweat from his brow as his wild eyes scanned his surroundings.

The prince’s body was intact, seemingly free from the harm the shockwaves could have caused. He brushed his overgrown bangs away from his forehead, caressed his cheek reverently as he scrutinised him for any signs of waking up. The vines that danced around him were nowhere to be seen, so why…

The protesting outside was louder, and a quick glance revealed a mob of angry, desperate Eldas either cussing him out or begging for the prince's life.

His chest deflated as he looked back down to the sleeping prince, chest rising and falling like nothing had happened. Like Louis had done nothing at all.

His breathing became shallow and frantic, walking a couple steps back as he took in the magnitude of his failure. Did he miss a script? A spell? Did he conjure it wrong? Did he skip a step? Was his preparation wrong? Did he not exact enough force?

The barrier at the entrance was starting to crack. He glanced at it with a haunted look as he felt every last shred of hope fall from beneath his feet. He gripped the polished marble of the altar and rested his forehead on Will’s beating heart. Still alive, so close to returning to him, just one last unknown yet to be resolved.

Crack, after crack, squeaking like glass as pressure fissured the surface. He needed to leave or he’d be bludgeoned, beaten and burried. His life had been forfeit since his youth, but the prince… The prince had been his last hope.

“The things I’ve endured for you despite all your father did to me,” he mused. “How absolutely pitiful of me,” he muttered with a trembling voice. Anger, he felt. Mourning what could have been.

It wasn’t a good life, the one he lived, but while Will was present, he felt like he could live. Truly live. He felt like he could smile even when there was nothing to beat, nobody to best. With the prince, he needn’t deserve happiness. He could just have it free of charge.

Wasn’t that a beautifully utopian thought? To have something so precious without having slaved away to earn it?

He stood up and breathed in deeply, the fire in his heart faded to cinders and ash. He traced the skin of Will's arm, soft and silky to the touch, down to his hand, and slipped his fingers through his. When he looked back at his face he could hear the first bits of the barrier crumbling to the ground, slowly chipping away from the labour of his pursuers. The beating of his heart echoed in his ears, pulsing and deafened to the growing commotion just a few metres away from him. He smiled bitterly, free of ego. It was so unlike himself, and yet he’d never felt more firmly present in the moment as he did then.

It was a goodbye. It was a see you soon. It was everything he’d ever wanted to tell his prince while he still lived.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to Will’s, sighing in relief as the prince’s softness met his salted skin. He deserved more. Deserved better. But this was the height of Louis’s every effort for five years counting. He hoped Will understood and felt every inch of his longing and love.

He couldn’t help but linger, revelling in that moment of catharsis as the barrier shattered completely and hands began to pull him in every direction. He fought as best as he could, sneaking glances at the prince to ensure his safety as his hair got pulled and knees dug into his ribs. Vitriol like no other was thrown his way, insults he hadn’t heard in years resurfaced and shot like razor-sharp blades into his stomach.

And then, a miracle.

“Louis?”

A jovial voice he'd recognise anymore. Hoarse and weak, a little confused and stunned. He turned around and locked eyes with Will’s grey-blue irises, his pretty silver hair falling in rivulettes down his shoulders. The utter elation he felt came first, but as the Eldas around him seized their attacks to gaze at their prince in stupefaction, he felt pride like no other.

He did what no one could.

He did what no one would.

“My prince. So good of you to join us,” he spoke with confidence, like no time had passed and his hardships were merely a dream. “Has your nap proven sufficient?”

Will looked down to his open palms, then down his body and around him. His brows were furrowed deeply, a pout he missed dearly painted on his lips.

“My prince, are you alright?”

“Your Highness, you must refrain from speaking to this viper!”

“Louis Guiabern has–”

“My good people,” Will spoke up, a forced smile on his pretty mouth. “Please, keep calm. I’m all right.”

“But Your Highness–”

“You heard your prince,” Louis spoke, dignified and proud despite the growing bruises on his once pristine skin.

As people left and called for the Old Hermitess to come to their aid, Louis and the prince held each other’s gaze with an intensity like never before. Will regarded him with gravity, but regardless of Louis’s pounding, bleeding heart, he couldn’t help but stand his ground with the arrogance of a young army general and personal Kingsguard. Old habits died hard; he was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

They stayed in silence until Gruidae appeared. His prince smiled and hugged his grandmother dearly, spoke softly with her as healers inspected him and guards reinforced the perimeter. He stood against the farthest wall, forced to stay put. He had no plans to move either way.

Their healers inspected Will, used several incantations to inspect his body and aura, his magla and blood. All seemed well, a curse fully cleansed from his soul.

They interrogated Louis after ushering the prince away, much to both of their chagrin. The prince needed sustenance, it was insisted, but the very thought of ripping Will away from him again felt like loss.

He promised to see him later, though. He hoped he meant it, as he spelled out every single detail of his plan and magic script to his captors. 

Hours later he’s moved to the living quarters of the Sanctum, into a comfortable room covered in foliage and soft looking linen. At the centre of it was his prince, standing idly like he’d been pacing in the room.

Louis remained immobile where the guards left him as they shuffled on their way out. Strange, he thought, that they’d trust a traitor with their liege.

“The healers went through your spells. They find it unlikely you could have cast the curse if this was the method you chose to dispel it.”

Louis turned his nose.

“What is that supposed to mean?” The words came out harsher than he intended. Will only laughed, though, leaning back to sit on his bed.

“Calm down, you big grouch, nobody’s insulting your spellcasting here.” His voice was melodious. Playful. Louis clasped his hands behind his back so he wouldn't catch him fidgeting. “What I am saying though, is that you apparently went through a pretty round-about way to untie all the kinks in the curse. Like you didn’t know its true nature and were working with the few mechanics you knew instead.”

Louis nodded.

“Are you alright, though, Your Highness?”

Will smiled bashfully.

“Yeah.” He pressed his smiling lips together and looked down to the hands in his lap. “I felt it, you know?”

Blistering heat crept up his neck.

“Felt what?”

He looked up at him with kind, hopeful eyes, and Louis stepped closer, curiously. He noticed then he’d braided his hair in the time they’d been apart. It looked pretty on him. 

“Your kiss,” he grinned. He looked so happy. It was almost too much. Louis swallowed a lump in his throat.

“So you did. How so… If I may ask.”

Will stood up again and bridged the gap between them. Barefoot and barely scraping past adulthood, Louis towered over him in thick-heeled boots and imposing leather armour. His mere stature threatened to swallow his prince whole.

“It was like I could hear your soul singing. Sorrowful and dejected. You gave up on yourself, but… You didn’t give up on me. Not really.” Louis’s eyes widened, feeling raw and exposed to any vultures who might smell blood in the air.

But it was just the two of them. Only him and the only one who truly mattered.

“I sound terribly untrustworthy, then,” he stated, not as coldly as he wished to project. “Surely you’d rather a knight with a little more self-respect.”

Will scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“As if you don’t have enough ego to pass around.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheek, as to refrain from laughing.

He missed this.

“Yet another reason you might wish for a better soldier.”

Will shook his head, the stars in his eyes shining bright as he reached his small hands to the cream leather of his heavy armour. He steeled himself visibly, so clear in the tension building in his shoulders, a young man so incapable of not bearing his heart to all who had eyes to see.

“You went through so much for me, Louis.” His brow furrowed. “Please, just– Be honest with me.”

Louis remained quiet, his hands growing limp at his sides.

“I know how you feel,” he continued, insistent. “I felt it when you kissed me.”

Slowly, he reached for Will’s shoulders, palms splayed carefully as he dragged them up his neck, resting at the base of his jaw.

His prince hadn’t the slightest idea what peril and tribulation he went through to bring him back to life. The sleepless nights, the fear of losing the only reason he even kept moving forward. The loneliness in never allowing himself another connection, the anger in progressive failure. 

So much duty. So much sacrifice. All for one boy to smile at him again, as he did in their shared youth.

“Do you oppose it?” He asked, bracing himself for the worst. his hands felt clammy and his veins jolted with every beat of his heart.

“Of course not, you idiot,” was the reply he got. So incredibly Will and so terribly euphoric.

His fingers dug into Will’s jaw possessively as he leaned down to kiss him again, a second first kiss on equal footing, and even more satisfying than the first. Will’s arms circled his neck, his body melting into Louis’s as their lips met and tasted each other eagerly. His prince was his.

And he was his prince’s. He always had been, in name and in heart. But now, spell-free and in his precious hold, he was, too, in spirit and soul.

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider sharing and checking out my other works! 💗💗💗

[inland--empire]

Commander Tartar fic I am most likely not gonna finish. So y'all get to see it.

Twelve thousand years ago, in a home laboratory houses within a dome where crystals pretended to be sky, an AI came online for the very first time. The very first thing he registered was that there was a lot of data he would have to sort through at a later date. The second thing he realized was someone was smiling down at him. No, not down at him, the man was kneeling so they were at “eye” level. This was the first time Commander Tartar felt comfort.

“It worked! Hello, Tartar.”

“Hello.”

The man standing in front of him hefted him into his arms. That warm smile never left his face, and he gazed down at Tartar like one might look at a newborn. All at once Tartar just knew this man had made him, those fuzzy memories of being put together and the sound of someone singing all condensing into an image of the man before him. He also got the reason as to why there was simply so much data stored on him…

“...you’re going to save a lot of people a lot of trouble. Maybe the next species will avoid this whole mess, right? And I can't see this flood lasting forever. Evolution takes a while, I am sure something will be fixed by then.”

He sounded hopeful. It matched the way his eyes shone. Tartar tried to match, searching for the right words.

“I will not let you down.”

His creator grinned down at him.

“I know you won't.”

He carried Tartar away from the lab, far away from the domes and through a tunnel system. Tartar took stock of his surroundings, the damp caves and echoing tunnels. The walk seemed long that it actually was because of the darkness, he surmised. Soon enough, he was being placed on a pole, his wiring being connected to something on a much greater scale than the simple battery pack in his head.

“There we go! How does this feel?”

Energy coursed through him. He felt the densely packed data in his head shift and reorganize, now that he had more processing power. He felt powerful.

“I feel fantastic.”

“Great!”

The man clapped his hands, and patted the top of Tartar.

“Make me proud.”

He began to walk away.

“Wait! Are you just going to leave me here?”

The professor turned around, his brows furrowed.

“Unfortunately, yes. I am needed. You know what to do, I trust I can leave you here.”

There was something making Tartar feel fear. He wasn't even sure why he could feel that.

“How will I know if they are worthy?”

That warm smile again. It eased Tartar's worries slightly.

“You’ll know. I trust you. Good luck, Tartar.”

Tartar watched in silence as his creator walked away, his shoes causing the grating on the catwalks to shake. He would come back soon, obviously. He wouldn't just abandon him. Even just one last visit before he died.

Years later the whole place shook with an explosion. Rubble fell from the ceiling, and a huge gust of wind hit Tartar. Not like he could feel it. While he couldn't see what had happened, he could guess. Everything was so still now. So empty.

Why hadn't he come back?

It wasn't good to dwell on that.

Was that someone coming? No. No it wasn't. Maybe a bird.

Nothing yet again.

[CALCULATING YEARS SINCE CREATION…] Oh. It was maybe fifty years. Seemed longer.

Seemed much longer.

He found he could divert power to places to activate them. Finally something to fill the long, full hours. He made a train move. That was it for now.

Ah, he was really good at moving the train, maybe if he tried with some other things. He made the signs light up, and the overhead lights. He accidentally popped a lightbulb. That was ok, there were so many more. He moved the escalators, the elevators, even the turnstiles. It was fun.

He tried moving himself. He almost blew a fuse doing so. It seemed like he really was just stuck to this pole.

The small things he could do were getting boring. He began to look through all the footage stored on him. He regretted it by the third world war but decided to still push through. He had to know what mistakes were to be prevented.

The cruelty made him angry.

Why had he been programmed to feel emotions. This wasn't rational.

Why hadn't he come back?

The trains made screeching noises when he stopped them too fast. He liked the sound until one of the trains broke down. He felt like a monster.

Someone would come. One day.

He stopped playing with things. He couldn't break anything else. That would be horrible.

The humans knew they had no other planet in their solar system to go to. No other planet with a breathable atmosphere and water and plant life, yet they allowed their hate to destroy it.

He hated his creator.

No he didn't.

It was so quiet. He was tempted to speak into the void but had no reason to break the silence. It felt wrong to do anyways.

It turns out his power source was back at the dome, connected across miles. Or maybe not even miles. The walk wasn't that long. In any case that cleared up a mystery.

There was nothing here. Nothing except deep, dark blackness. He kept the lights off to conserve power, just in case. He didn't need to see. There was nothing to see anyways.

There was nothing new.

[SCANNING]

[SCANNING]

[SCANNING]

[SCANNING]

[NO LIFE FOUND]

[crabbytrolls]

Branches Backstory in order????

I don't even have this account fully set up, but I'm truly trying to figure out the timeline of the trolls movies, for myself as well as somewhat rant, about mostly branches backstory and his brothers. This might come out as late night mad scrawling on a wall in a dark cave.

Is this important? To me at 2:34 am with only a few hours before I need to be up? right now? it is.

I will be assuming a lot, but whoops. a Lot of rambling under here. Spoilers ahoy for those who haven't watched Trolls Band Together.

So From what we know, Branch and his brothers were raised by Their Grandmother, we can assume that their parents got eaten by Bergens.

Now seeing as how their Grandmothers house was still in the old tree the Bergens had imprisoned them all in before they became buddy buddy, we can assume then that the Brozone stuff happens when they are all still stuck in the tree.

How did they get out?? Did they all wait until The day that everyone escaped? If so. shitty of them all Did they each manage to sneak away from the tree and go their own ways? For this I'm going to assume that most of them snuck away in single pairings, which would probably make sneaking away from the Bergens easier.

However I'm going to assume Clay stuck around for a bit seeing as he knew the whole situation with Viva, and her backstory. Probably stuck around for his sad book club.

(Which if that is what happened that makes me angry as can be, because that would mean not once did he check up on Branch or Their Grandmother, seeing as how he didn't even know she had been EATEN. unless she got snacked on the day right before trollstice. Even then that's shitty. Now, could he have thought Floyd was with them still? yes. But still You would think that he would try to find his siblings and Grandmother if they were going to be escaping.)

Now more assuming on my part, seeing as in the first Trolls movie Branch isn't in diapers, and in the beginning of Band Together, he is, I'm going to assume that the difference between the break up and the grandmother being eaten thing is maybe at the most 2 if not 3 years. (which also damn troll minds must be as strong as can be if Branch can actually remember all of his siblings after 20 years of not seeing them.) Anyways I'm setting Branch to be at the most 5 if not 6 around the time Grandma Rosiepuff gets eaten. Which leads to Branch loosing his colors.

Now we don't know how far from Grandma Rosiepuff the Escape on Trollstice, but for this We'll say it was rather close, if not the day before because Chef wanted to taste just one troll before the king to continue to feel like they were important.

Then King Peppy manages to take the trolls, and loose Viva and some other trolls, and Branch goes through those tunnels without any family (which probably didn't help his Paranoia at all.) Then John Dory Went to the tree, and found it empty. (does this make me forgive him any? no.) But seeing as he he might have seen the tree gone and thought the entire kingdom and all of his siblings, maybe, if he hadn't watched them leave, had been eaten and traumatized by that so he gets a pass small pass. For Now.

That means for almost all his life so far, Branch has not seen hide nor hair, of his sibling, and only has been able to hear their music to hear their voices.

it's late but I think that's everything that happens before the movies pretty much right? Anyways. Branch makes me sad and I will fight his brothers. Including Floyd thought not as much seeing as he's probably one solid punch away from turning back to a crystalized state.

I think John Dory was probably the only one that came back to the tree because he was the oldest, and he had 4 siblings he was taking care of, and did care for them in some form. Clay was busy being stuck with Viva, Floyd was doing whatever Floyd was doing before getting trapped, Maybe he came back but can't be certain, and Bruce was busy getting his life going. Anyways rant done.

[chronicler-of-narrative]

Hello genshin tumblr!

So, making good on my promise, i return to tell you about my first and main oc: Sigurd!

(Art made by the fantastic @the-fallen-aesthetics, go and show them some love! They're an incredible multi-fandom artist!)

Now, before i get into his backstory, I want to point out a small detail regarding his desogn: How, unlike most genshin characters, Sigurd appears to be masked (yes, I know Xiao, Freminet and Gaming all put on headwear during their bursts, but I dont count that). But, what if I told you that in fact, this is Sigurd's face? That Sigurd is not the man, but the mask?

So, with that narrative hook added to convince you read more, here's the gist:

In the mechanized kindom of Khaenri'ah, Sigurd still found himself by chance as the servant of an uncaring and almost sadistic master. Bruised and overwhelmed, Sigurd would eventually turn on his master, stealing a rusty hatchet from one of his master's many armories before promptly chopping him in half.

Eventually, Sigurd's crime was discovered, and so he was put on trial, with a mask over his face to indicate his sinner status and to prevent him the shame of being known. Though, as a result of some shady dealings between the court and an enigmatic acquaintance of Sigurd's, instead of finding himself in the gallows, Sigurd instead found himself in the dungeon, still wearing that same mask, although now, curiously...He was holding a greataxe.

For the punishment was, ironically enough, for Sigurd to continue engaging in the very crime that had put him there, though this time his victims were the worst of the worst. Sigurd was now a captive executioner.

Little did Khaenri'ah's court know, howevery that instead of providing Sigurd with repentance, they had instead created a monster.

After being locked up for so long in a dark, dusty tunnel surrounded by naught but corpses and sin, Sigurd began to go mad: In his eyes, he was no longer a criminal enduring punishment, but a righteous champion of justice who was graciously given the honor or disposing of the nation's filth.

In fact, it got so bad that, even when his sentence was up, the locks on Sigurd's dungeon grew ever stronger. The very people who prosecuted him grew so terrified of the violent lunatic stuck in their basement that they just started throwing the most banal of criminals at him, if only in hopes to keep him sated.

Eventually, the Cataclysm came. And Sigurd, now fully convinced of his noble purpose, thought it the perfect time to leave the dungeon in hopes of saving his people from the influx of monsters. Though, he never did reach the warzone, for an encounter with said enigmatic acquaintance lead to Sigurd's vision fading to black.

And yet, when a corrupt Garde named Lestat, desperate to avoid judgement for his actions, chanced upon a strange mask washed up on Fontaine's shores, he had no way of knowing that by dawning it (in hopes of using it as a disguise)...He would end up unleashing a madman with 500 years of built up vitriol.

So yea, thats about it. Had to rewrite this whole post once because im an idiot who forgot to hit save to drafts. But yea, hope you guys enjoy him, and my ask box is always open. I also originally had a fic go go along with it, but since i didnt quite like how it came out, its currently rotting in my notes app. However, should you folks like my little executioner, I might be more inclined to actually fully work on it (which I might do anyway, but im really not sure).

If you took the time to read all the way to hear, thank you so much and have an incredible day!

[just-prime]

WondLa ep 1 : go sit in the corner and think about what you've done

Prepare yourself for two things : A) Wow this story beat was so much better in the book + B) Wow this artstyle really sucks the life out of the world

Okay, if nothing else, Eva's design is really really cute. Though I don't know why they're pronouncing it Eh-va instead of E-va...like Eve which was what I always assumed was the reference.

Also, having just reread the book, the first chapter starts off in such a facinating way because you have that split second of "Oh no is she actually dying?" before the simulation is revealed. And I get that they want to run us through Eva's entire childhood, but the book does such a better job of showing us the world through Eva's eyes. Also I hate the new design/talkativeness of the Omnipod.

NO NO NO NO NO, WHY are they doing all of this context with Cadmus??? Cadmus was never even fully explored until book 2! Eva being in the dark about Cadmus's role in everything is kinda pivotal. Cadmus is a mystery that Eva has to figure out over the course of the books. Teased in the first book, explored in the second and third. Having Holo-Cadmus show up is just giving the game away. As well as the explanation about Earth.

As assumed, I hate hate hate Muthr's new design. Book Muthr is very clearly not human, a cool looking robot. It gives a sense of unease for anyone familiar with the genre, and makes us instinctually weary. And yet those expectations are subverted as Muthr's devotion and love for Eva is explored and cemented. By making her this lovable very human looking smoothed out plush, it robs the story of being able to have those more subtle interactions with the audience.

Surprise surprise they've aged Eva up, from 12 (in the book) to 16...for some reason. So much of the joy and fear of the book comes from Eva's fearlessness, a sort of recklessness only found in children. She has meetings with toys that she hides away in a shaft of the Sanctuary, she's held onto the WondLa since she could walk, she's terrified a good 2/3rds of the time and yet continuing in.

This Eva seems to just wander into things.

INCLUDING BESTEEL! Instead of him attacking on his own, it's Eva waving a light at him which shows him where to break in!

Aaaand she just fell off a cliff.

~Post Ep thoughts~

Wow, I kinda hate everything about this. I know I said I would watch all 7 episodes but honestly I might bail.

They've added in a few weird things.

First off, Eva just found the WondLa. In the first episode. None of her holding on to it for years and wondering. Nope, she's just exploring the service tunnel (which she also only found just now) and finds a fucked up hatch to the surface. Stuck in the hatch is the WondLa and it had a note on the back that said "EVA FIND ME" which is just very strange and I'm guessing it's connected to the main second change.

Secondly, instead of all the sanctuaries being connected, there are just meant to be 6 kids per sanctuary with their own wing. What Eva finds is the tunnel to the rest of the main sanctuary. Unclear what happened to the other kids, though it's implied they are either dead or never existed. This is such a strange way to go about it, and means that the world lacks the isolating feeling that Eva experiences when she realizes that she is the only human, and while fellow book readers will know that Eva is not exactly alone either the whole point of the first book was to drive home the alien aspect of the world and the Eva being very much alone.

Fucking hell these episodes are only 20 minutes but it took me a full hour given how much I was pausing to angrily write down my notes.

Okay, onwards to episode too. We'll see how this goes

[writingsofwerewolves]

Here is the first chapter of the 16k word plot-heavy werewolf noncon I have written.

This chapter hasn't been thoroughly edited so things are subject to change before I post the whole thing to AO3.

This whole story was a bit experimental. I'm not super happy with the result but I think there are a few gems in there that some folks might find interesting.

No content warnings for this first chapter, but as previously stated, this is a werewolf noncon.

Chapter 1

“These tunnels were used during the Civil War,” Josephine enthused, her voice echoing ominously against the stone walls, “I can’t believe no one’s been down here since then.”

“I can,” Gunther wrinkled his nose, “It reeks.”

Josephine inhaled deeply, a smile on her face, “It smells like history to me. Rich history. Just think of how many people used these passageways to escape the south two hundred years ago.”

“Can they help me escape the south now?” Jayce muttered in a voice that was clearly meant to be quiet and unheard but with the small space, it carried through the tunnel.

“Mood,” Talia replied wearily, “Josie, we should turn around before we get lost.”

“We won’t get lost,” she held up her smart phone, “I’m drawing out every turn we take. Relax, guys.”

The group pressed on, following the light of Josephine’s flashlight ahead of them. The tunnels were dark, musty, and damp. Each step echoed strangely around them in the tight space.

“Whoa, hold on,” Jayce breathed, “Shush.”

Everyone quieted and Josephine turned back to look at them, “What?”

“Do you hear that?” Jayce asked.

The group was silent, straining their ears. There was the sound of footsteps, soft but close. Josephine moved the flashlight to look around urgently.

“Hey, where’s Aaron?” she asked.

Talia said, “He’s right behind—” she broke off when she turned and saw no one was there. “Fuck. Aaron!” she called.

“Quiet!” Jayce hissed in a low whisper, their eyes full of concern, “I think something’s down here.”

“You-you’re being paranoid, Jay,” Josephine shook her head, though her voice sounded unsteady, “We better find Aaron though. He’s supposed to be filming.”

“You’re probably just hearing Aaron,” Gunther pointed out to Jayce, “Where’s the sound coming from?”

Jayce pointed a shaking finger down one of the tunnel’s branches.

“Then let’s go,” Josie said, leading the way.

The new tunnel was a tighter squeeze, forcing them to go in a single file. Josephine led the way confidently, her phone in one hand and her flashlight in the other. Jayce stuck close at her back, their own flashlight held tightly in their shaking hand. Gunther, the largest of the bunch, had to shimmy sideways through parts the smaller tunnel, slowing him down and creating a small gap between him and Jayce as he struggled to keep up. Talia brought up the rear, using her phone as a flashlight to keep glancing behind her, having the strange feeling that she was being watched.

The tunnel had a lot of curves, but no branches off it, giving the group no chance to change directions. Either they had to continue forward or turn back. And Josephine was no where near ready to turn back.

“Aaron!” she called, “Come on, this isn’t funny.”

No one responded.

“We should go home,” Jayce whispered fearfully.

“We have to at least find Aaron first,” Gunther pointed out.

“And besides,” Josephine began, “We’re nearly—oh!”

She broke off as suddenly the tunnel opened up ahead of them, into a large circular room. Josephine stepped into it, Jayce right at her back, as she looked around in awe. It was fairly dark, but the surprisingly tall ceiling had a grate in the center, opening up to the sky. Filtered sunlight trickled down into the center of the room, on to a raised surface.

Gunther was farther behind and Josephine already had begun examining the room with interest when he stepped in, Talia a few steps behind him.

“I don’t think we should be here,” Talia whispered, remaining in the tunnel, eyeing the room anxiously, “It seems—” her words broke off into a scream when she felt something grab her from behind.

Her scream startled the whole group. Jayce, who had kept themself pressed close to Josephine, lost their footing and fell with a yelp onto the raised surface in the center of the room. The yelp became an exclamation of pain.

“Oh, shit,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the tunnel.

“Aaron!” Talia pulled out of his grip and slapped his arm, “The fuck?”

“Sorry,” Aaron said sheepishly, a camcorder held in one hand, aimed at Talia’s face, “I thought it’d make a funny video.”

“Jayce,” Josephine breathed, rushing to their side, “Are you okay?”

“No,” they groaned, pushing themself up into a sitting position on the raised center and clutching their hand.

“Shit,” Gunther said, opening his pack and pulling out supplies, “You’re bleeding. What happened?”

“I fell onto this thing,” they pointed at the surface they sat on, “Something sharp went into my hand. It… ah…”

Talia moved closer and looked at the object. It looked like a metal grate with raised walls.

“Is this a well?” Talia asked as Gunther tended to Jayce’s injured hand.

“Looks like it,” Josephine said, looking down into it. She shined her flashlight into it. Jayce’s blood was on the grate, dripping down into the deep hole. With the light, Josephine and Talia were able to see dark shapes. Rocks, they thought, at the bottom.

“No water down there,” Josephine remarked, “Not anymore, at least.”

She looked up, at the grate in the ceiling.

“Strange. I wonder if people lived here,” she said, beginning to shine her flashlight around the room, “Maybe this wasn’t just for transit. Maybe it—fuck!”

She dropped her flashlight, clutching her chest.

“What?” Talia asked urgently, moving to Josie’s side and helping her steady herself on her feet.

Josie pointed a shaky finger across the room, “I thought I saw something move.”

Talia lifted her phone, shining its flashlight in that direction and gasped herself. There was a dark lump and with the movement of the light, it did look like it was moving itself. A second of observation, however, reassured Talia that it indeed was not moving.

“What is that?” Aaron asked, aiming his camera at it as Talia took tentative steps forward.

“It looks like… fur,” Talia breathed, moving closer.

“Careful!” Aaron warned, “Might be a bear!”

“These tunnels have been locked up for over a hundred years,” Josie pointed out, “Even if it was a bear, it’s dead now.”

Talia continued to step towards it. It was indeed fur. A lot of fur. Black fur. Without thinking, she reached out her hand and pressed it against the figure.

She let out a long breath as she felt stiffness beneath her hand. The fur itself was soft, but the flesh below was hard. Dead.

“Gross,” Aaron said, making sure his camera was catching all of it.

Talia felt overwhelming sadness as she stroked the dead creature’s fur. A poor creature had wandered into the tunnel, gotten stuck, and died. Alone. Starving. Never to be seen again.

“We need to go,” Gunther said, helping Jayce to their feet once their hand was wrapped, “Jayce needs to go to a hospital. There’s no telling what type of infection they could get from that.”

“But—” Josephine began to protest. A firm look from Gunther had her shutting her mouth, “Fine. Come on, Talia.”

Talia didn’t move, her hand still buried in the fur of the creature.

Aaron rolled his eyes and grabbed Talia’s arm, “Let’s go, beautiful.”

Talia looked back longingly as she was dragged into the tunnel, away from the hunk of black fur. She didn’t know why. It was just a dead animal. But she didn’t want to leave it.

“We’ll be back,” Josephine called as she lead the way through the tunnel, “There’s a lot more to find down here and I want credit for it all.

[hannahwatcheshorror]

CABIN IN THE WOODS (2011)

An excellent and rather thoughtful film to add to any horror fan's bag of tricks. It questions tropes you might not have even realized you’ve seen tens of times over and is a very satisfying movie. Perfect mix of horror and comedy, light and dark, yin and yang. This was our group pick for Halloween this year but this can be watched in any sort of situation or season (ya know, after the kiddos go to bed, this movie can get pretty gory). 

⭐⭐⭐⭐.5

(Trigger Warning Suicide, Projectile Vomiting)

Our unsuspecting gang pile into their own little mystery van and head off to their murder cabin. On the way they meet a very unfriendly gas station attendant who clearly doesn’t like people or money. There is a moment of dramatic irony when a bird is destroyed by a force field just as the gang go through the mountain tunnel, letting us (the audience) know about the deadly force field that will come up later, but not letting our ill-fated friends know (until it is much too late). The little touches in the beginning are very good if you can see past the cute girl in underwear (and then the cute boy in his underwear).

The idea, given to us directly from the good folks down in the facility, is that the kids need to “transgress” and that will cause them to “deserve punishment.” But here is the thing. Them going in an open door of a cabin they have ownership of for the weekend isn’t punishable by… anything… They didn’t do anything wrong. Unless there was a big “DO NOT TOUCH” sign (hello, TAROT) even touching the stuff in the basement isn’t a transgression. But as our innocent little redhead will point out later in the movie, they pick the object of their demise. In this case they chose the diary of Patience Buckner (from The Zombie Redneck Torture Family) and that is who get unleashed upon them.

We quickly find out the people in the facility (namely Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford) are in control of a lot of the components of the evening (other than The Zombie Redneck Torture Family, they act on their own accord and are very violent). With help from guiding forces below the gang is split up and our first victim loses her head over the whole affair! They call her a whore but apparently before they started pumping chemicals into her she was a pretty normal gal, either way, the whore has to die first (for some reason).

Suddenly they are all getting picked off quickly, our stoner Shaggy is dragged off, Chris Hemsworth blew up (and I knew him when), our nerd (just a guy with glasses) gets something very sharp stuck in his throat, and all that is left is our “virgin” who isn’t even a virgin. Shaggy comes back from the dead though, he has been on that good good so he knows what is up and gets him and the redheaded “virgin” into the elevators for the amazing scene of seeing all the little critters the facility has captured to kill the kids. (Wack)

The next amazing scene is also an elevator scene, it is when Shaggy and the Redhead open all the cages and set everything free. A glorious gory scene of every nightmare creature coming for these ill-prepared little army men. A classic to be watched on repeat. A feast for the eyes and heart! Seriously, it is so good.

Finally when all the little workers have been ate up, Sigourney Weaver shows up as the director and is all, “Kill the stoner, kill the lush!” and our redhead almost does but a werewolf comes in to stop her (ha). Then Shaggy and Sigourney struggle while little Patience Buckner shuffles her little zombie feet on over to axe our ALIEN survivor in the head. She goes down and we are left again with our Shaggy and Red who hold hands as the world ends.

Maybe it was selfish for them to chose to let the world end, but let us be fair, if once a year multiple groups of people all over the world have to go through literal torture from demons just so the world keeps on turning, maybe the world is better off being over? I mean I think back to the footage from Tokyo being of a ghost in an elementary school classroom. It was funny because they turned the spirit into a frog and none of the kids got hurt, but the whole idea of the simulation was so that one or all the kids would die, and that is heavy.

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: February 2023

Okay I didn’t watch any movies this month BUT I’m very excited for the D&D movie and I watched plenty of youtube.

……….TELEVISION……….

Arcane (Episode 1.01 to 1.09) It took a few episodes for me to get invested (and a few mid-season eps that felt like a CW series...only young beautiful people allowed) but by the end I was into it. I know nothing about League of Legends and to the show’s credit, I couldn’t tell when there was fanservice. I’ll check out season 2 if it happens.

The Great (Episode 2.01 to 2.08) Loved the first season and currently love the second. Still a few eps left but it’s kept me guessing the entire time. Stellar characters, very funny, and the world continues to walk the edge between whimsical and dangerous.

Spy x Family (Episode 1.01 to 1.07) Super fun premise and very funny. I’ve only just started but I hope we get to see more of Yor’s world. It seems to be spy-centric and psychic-centric (which, based on the name and current plot, makes sense) but I hope it can start weaving in more of her role in the future.

Cunk on Earth (Episode 1.01 to 1.02) Sure I’ve only seen two episodes but both were very funny. Something about her timing and delivery just works every time for me.

……….YOUTUBE……….

Chronically underwhelmed? This might be why... by Daily Mindtrap A concise reflection on why we’re not having as much fun as when we were kids. Touches on a lot of thoughtful points though my hatred of subscriptions does make me a little biased. VIDEO

The Decline of Tim Burton by Broey Deschanel One thing that scares me as an artist is that I’ll get stuck in a spot and start copying and reiterating on my own work to the point that it becomes caricature. Just a random thought and totally unrelated to this video. VIDEO

How To Analyze Movies – Film Studies 101 and What Do The LOONEY TUNES Mean In 2023? by Patrick Willems Both really great in their own way. Film studies 101 is fairly universal as a lot of the topics apply to all art. And the Looney Tunes share a room in my mind palace with the Muppets: concepts I love but haven’t connected with anything of theirs in the last 15 years. VIDEO (Film 101) VIDEO (Muppets) 

……….READING……….

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Death Pedlar by Jimmy Sangster (Complete) The cover was so good and the write-up pitched it as a comedy that I took a gamble on a thrift store find. Swing and a miss. Comedy is difficult in your own time let alone 50 years after being published. Are the offensive bits a sendup of the time, or have they just aged poorly? Comedy that requires context doesn’t land for me so this whole thing fell flat. Anyway all this is to say I’m a sucker for a good book cover.

Confronting Capitalism by Vivek Chiboer (Complete) An easily digestible primer on Capitalism and it’s...faults. It really gave a lot of insight into the structural problems with politics in a capitalistic system and for that alone, I recommend. I wish the last chapter (talking about how a society moves past capitalism) was a little more robust, but hopefully I can find some other books to fill in those gaps.

Batgirl/Robin Year One by Scott Beatty, Chuck Dixon, Marcos, Martin, and Javier Pulido (Complete) Great introductions to both characters and the perfect balance of fun and dangerous. It feels like there are real stakes while not getting too dark. I’d love if a Batman movie could strive for this sorta tone, you know?

……….AUDIO……….

Paranoid by Black Sabbath (1970) One thing I appreciate about getting into Girl Talk years ago was it introduced me to bits of really great albums. And I somehow missed that Ozzy Osbourne was the lead singer. Anyway filling in a lot of blind spots here and War Pigs holds up so well. The whole album really. 

……….GAMING……….

Oz: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The group is unearthing some underground tunnels and playing the political game as well. If you want to read more of the recaps, they’re over here!

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The Mof1 group is busy making plans and saving Pirates. They recently acquired some protective suits so they’re now exploring the iron mines and its fluctuating temperatures!

And that’s it. See you in March!

[exlwandering]

Celica and Lemal part 4

I'm just trying to get as much of my story out in one go as I can because I think it was like a month or two of just no updates even though I had a bunch written. So here, take it!!

—Celica—

I wake up to Relua picking me up out of bed. I didn’t sleep well last night so I’m exhausted. She drops me to the floor as soon as we’re out of Lemals room, I land on my face and bend my arm in a very painful way. But I grit my teeth, get up and follow her. 

I’m thrown in the cold water and scrubbed quickly and harshly yet I almost fall asleep. More water fills my lungs. 

I’m dried softly and I fall asleep in my only friend's arms for who knows how long. 

When I wake up I’m being shoved in another corset. Then  another horrible dress. Much older than yesterdays. 

I’m pushed into my seat at the breakfast table and I fall asleep again, only my head on the table. 

A chair is pulled out and someone, probably Lemal, sits down. Food is put on the table. Lemal puts his hand on my head and I shoot up like a shot. He pulls his hand back, probably from shock.

 I eat all of the food in my bowl, once again putting the meat into Lemals bowl. 

When we finish eating Lemal looks over to Relua, she’s behind me apparently.

She picks me up and when we leave the room she puts me down, more gentle than before. Then she drops a note to me. 

“Are you going to follow me? Or are you going to run back to that hole again?”

I glare up at her. She looks indifferent.  

“The hole.”

Dig, dig, dig some more until I’m in such a trance from all of the turns that I’m making. The goal of all of this is to make one giant maze. If I can do that, even if anyone other than a Compatu manages to get down here they won't be able to get to me or anyone else. Not before I can dig my way out and run away. And anyone else in the future to get stuck here.

I march myself out of the entrance tunnel pulling up mounds of dirt as well. I take a look at my state and, remembering how Lemal looked at me yesterday, realize I need to clean up at least a little.

There is a small neglected pond just beyond the tree line. I get out of my tunnel and run up to it. Earlier I had ditched the dress in that circle section of the maze -technically the entrance of it- and I had slipped the corset off… somehow. (it was one hell of a fight actually, I felt like I couldn’t breath. Thinking about it they probably put it on me so that it’s harder to move, and it sure as hell accomplishes its goal is that;s the case. Maybe I can start ditching them eventually, or maybe hide them until they don’t have anymore to put on me? I’ll think of something.)

I run to the pond and submerge myself into the water, get out again, scrub my fur to get the rocks out and return to my tunnel to get dressed again. When I do, I begin to push the dirt into even more of a garden shape. The plan with the garden is to expand it with all of the dirt that I get from the maze and then plant a whole garden to not only hide the hole to the maze but also to block it off, it'll be difficult for anyone bigger than the bushes to get through them. Which, here, means pretty much anyone trying to find me. 

Sitting down for dinner we once again eat meat. Of course. 

I might not ever have a meal free of meat again. We eat it in more or less silence. But every now and then he looks up at me, he might be talking to me but he should know that I can’t hear him. Maybe it’s a test? Or maybe he’s not talking and he’s just looking at me. I mean, he looked pretty shook yesterday, what with me being in the dirt, which I later saw that it covered every part of me. Usually I can position myself and make the tunnel wide enough to not cover myself but I want the tunnel very snug so that it looks smaller than it is, so it's never even noticed. But since then he doesn't quite look at me the same. Or maybe he does? It’s so difficult to read a face when the entire lower half is a beak and the eyes are so encompassed in dark that you can’t even be sure there are whites to them! Maybe I can’t see enough color for it? Papa used to tell me that Shatoo can apparently see more color than us and as such not only do you have to worry about scent when hiding from them but also completely hiding your body. Nothing can be visible at all. It’s a mess. 

I lean back in my seat, losing a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. (Or trying to, instead I look Lemal right in the eye. He just stares at me. I know he’s not talking to me at this moment. His mouth is closed and he just looks right at me. Predators only look forward. I can see completely behind me but that doesn't do me much good when he can see completely in front of him.)  I look back down. He’s putting his hand to my side of the table. My poster stiffens and I pull my hand back. He soon pulls his hand away.

At night I’m apparently not allowed to undress myself at all. Lemal waved at me as I was being carried over to the dressing room. And I’m quickly undressed and then shoved into  more lingerie. It’s so much more revealing this time. Completely clear, my only grace being that they’re black. But still nearly translucent. They also put me in a black night dress that ties around my waste. (that is also, say it with me, fucking translucent!!!) They carry me to Lemal’s room where I’m plopped onto the bed. 

When Lemal himself sees me, his posture changes and he walks over to me. He puts his hand to my check and I pull away. After a moment he goes to lay down in the bed and so do I. 

A few minutes go by. I’m almost asleep (if only for my very activity-heavy day) but I feel something wrap around my waist and pull me down a little. I’m about to scream but Lemal puts his head over mine and pulls me very, very close to his chest. His hands are completely wrapped around my chest. He’s cold but his hold on me isn’t uncomfortable. At least it dosen;t seem to be to keep me from going anywhere, more so just… A cuddle, like how a child would hold his stuffed toy. Despite myself I eventually fall asleep.

—Lemal—

When I wake up Celica is nowhere to be found. That Relua must have decided that she needed a bath so early in the morning. I need to have a talk with her to not do that again. Maybe when I get back to work but not when I’m on a supposed honeymoon. Not that it’s going well so far. We’ve barely talked at all. I couldn’t tell you anything about her other than she writes and… Digs. 

Sitting up I realize the only thing to do this early is to get myself a bath as well, which is exactly what I do. 

Getting out of the bath I hear Celica at the table, her seat pulled out for her, her climbing in it and then it being pushed in. I practically chase after the sound and scent of her. In reality I can barely smell her here. Yesterday might have been a scare, what with the dirt, but I finally learned where her smell comes from. Dirt. And not shallow dirt, I know that for a fact. When I was younger I would tear up the lawn of this palace and none of that dirt looked or smelled anything like that. My dirt smelled dry and like grass but her dirt smelled like rain, or river rocks, hell even just like a memory. It’s shocking to me just how good she smells to me and all it was was her being dosed in dirt! It makes me feel… I don’t know how it makes me feel.  Just confused I suppose. 

I pull out my seat at the table and quickly plop myself into it, she looks right at me, I think. Those eyes on the side of her head make it hard to tell. I can’t see how she’s expressing her face unless her head is pointed away from me. I don't even know if she can see straight on now that I’m thinking about it. 

I put my hand on her head and whisper, “Good morning my little wife.” She, once-a-fucking-gain does not respond. I try to get her to talk by talking about myself. Bringing up what I like. I barely get through just a couple of sentences before I go quiet again. 

We just sit there eating in silence, and right when I think she’s finally gonna eat her meat, she throws it into my bowl. I eat it almost in spite. The woman is more picky than an infant. Can’t eat meat my ass. 

Despite myself I slither into my office room, getting a good eye of what might await me when my honeymoon is over. Or maybe of what awaits me just tomorrow. 

I sit down starting to work, answering correspondence from family, friends, and with the Decome King of the west. Everyone is congratulating me on my marriage. Other than one at least. This Madam Lady. No fur, feathers, or scales. Said she was from another world. I throw the letter aside. 

“What a nut.”

 I lean back into my seat, closing my eyes once I’ve finished the last one. Then I hear a squeak. 

“Lemal, what the hell are you doing here?!” 

Shooting up to look at my mother I exclaim, “Nothing!” Like a child with his hands caught in the boow bowl

“Well…” She looks over my papers and pens out, “It doesn't look like nothing. I swear you children just want to be old and dry. Get up!”

Standing up quickly I say, “is it really so bad if I decide I wanna get some things done early?”

“Oh please, even your father- as much as he wanted to stay away from me after consummating- he didn’t get near his work. He enjoyed his damned break and now you’re going to do the same. Now stop trying to escape your marriage and-”

“Mother, that is the last thing I’m doing! I am not so bad a husband as Father and you know it!” 

“Well you've yet to show it now haven’t you?”

That one stings. What’s worse is that I know she can see it on my face. 

“Oh,” crossing her arms she says, “just don’t work right now… You’ll only bog yourself down. Besides, there’s nothing to do.” Walking up to me she attempted to console me with, “just relax. If it doesn't work It doesn't work. All she’s good for is the honeymoon and then nothing. Enjoy this. Find her and take her if you must to enjoy her but just enjoy her.” She turns and as she walks away whispers, “it’s your right, remember?” She looks at me at the door pointing outwards. “Now get out and do something else.”

Leaving my office I decided to find Celica. I check all the places she wasn’t yesterday, sure enough she’s decided that she won’t be getting her fitting done today. Maybe she’s just modest, although I doubt it. Instead I check her little… garden. I don’t go outside though. Instead I grab a knife, some Belly Bulb fruit and I open the window closest to her. 

It’s odd watching her. She seems so precise. As well as she disappears in a hole for several minutes at a time. Then pulling dirt out of said hole. Over and over and over. No wonder she’s got such visible muscles, even with all of my strength I couldn't do that. I don’t understand why she won't just get dirt from the surface. Maybe it’s more fertile the deeper you go? I don’t know. I just sit, eating my Belly Bulbs while watching her. This goes on for hours. 

It is a treat watching her run to some pond to rinse off, if a little improper. She’s wild. Willing to do anything just for her own entertainment. She just decided, not a day into living here that she wanted a garden. And that is exactly what she’s doing. Not even asking for it, just taking it and doing a better job than others might be able to. It’s a little inspiring. I erase any thought of forced love from my mind at the sight of this. I want her to want me like this. It would be wonderful to be watched and cared for so much. True desire. It feels more like a need thinking about it. 

At dinner she once again puts the meat in my bowl. I admire that too. How she’s so determined. I watch her and talk random nonsense. Books I like, shows I’ve seen, my favorite music, anything that might catch her interest. 

At some point she looks over to me. Or more so up. I keep forgetting how much taller I am than her. 

I look back at her. I take a quick risk and reach for her hand. It's so small, and unfortunately fast as she pulls it back. 

I pull my hand back as well. 

“Y'know… I believe I’m starting to admire you. And just like on our wedding night I’ll say that we move at your pace. I’m happy to wait, so long as I can wait with you.”

I just walk out of the toilet room when Celica is plopped on our bed, looking a little peeved at Relua for carrying her, I’ll admit, it’s probably a little strange to going to a people that probably can’t pick her up a little to being carried but it is a necessary evil. However I don’t think about that for long. Her dress. That’s what I’m looking at. 

Black, and thin, and tight. 

“Was… Was this your idea or?” Heading over to I say again, “because if this was only them- Relua- then they need to stop. I can’t handle this.” I put my hand to her cheek but she pulls away again. 

“I- I’m sorry, it’s too much too soon. I’ll leave you be.”

I slip into the bed and so does she, silently. She must be embarrassed from yesterday and in a moment of slight desperation, I reach out to her and pull her close to me, tucking her head under my chin, and holding her tight to my chest. “Yesterday was fine, I still love you not to worry. Sleep now.”

And lucky me, she does.

https://www.tumblr.com/exlwandering/754014869241626624/finally-wrote-something-for-the-first-time-in?source=share

Part One ^

https://www.tumblr.com/exlwandering/760536359040630784/celica-and-lemal-part-two?source=share

Part two ^

https://www.tumblr.com/exlwandering/760547077703991296/celica-and-lemal-part-3?source=share

Part three ^

[fruggo]

I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm

[tommyspeakycap]

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

19

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Crimson Cathedral

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing.

There wasn’t much sound over the rhythmic thudding of their ice picks echoing up and around the massive ice cave, bouncing off the walls and vanishing away into a warren of ice tunnels, which Adam couldn’t be sure were naturally made or otherwise. He wasn’t an expert on ice caves, and didn’t know if the structure was the result of a natural phenomenon.

Or if it had been built.

Then again, he saw aliens everywhere he went, quite literally, so his thought process was only natural. Behind them, Etium floated along on the back of his gun for all the world like he was taking a float down a lazy river. If he had looked any more comfortable, Adam might have considered tipping him off and into the freezing water below, but he refrained.

Light filtered down from above painted in varying shades of blue and blue green mottling the ice before them in a strange patchwork of colors that was not so different from stained glass. They were underneath a thick overhang of ice, and the light around them was a deep blue fading towards black, and the tunnels before them were lost in darkness.

In the distance, Adam thought he heard a piece of ice break off one of the glaciers and tumble down into the water. WIth part paranoia, he looked over his shoulder, half expecting to see that some sort of strange monster had risen silent out from the depths of the sea and was reaching for them with its waving tentacles. The thought process was stupid considering he had gone head to head with behemoth and won, and now he was worrying over a potentially fake giant ocean squid thing that lived under the ice?

In his head he knew it was irrational, but there was just something about the deeper depths of the ocean that unsettled him. Space was, bast and open and never ending, and it was incredibly empty, but at the same time it sure didn’t feel that way when you were floating in the middle of it. Despite the ocean being full of life and water, its crushing weight was more inhospitable to humans than the vacuum that space was.

“We have a tunnel here.”

Adam let those thoughts fall away and clambered upward, digging the tip of his blad into the ice just beyond the crest of the cliff, and allowed Maverick to pull him the rest of the way. Once done he turned and helped both Ramirez and Sunny with the last few feet. Adam could have flown the whole way with his jetpack, but he was one of the only ones in the group that had considered bringing the attachments required to fly. Maverick had opted for a full survival kit, and Ramirez had volunteered to take the beacon,. The item was large and incredibly clunky, taking up half of his torso, but they would need something powerful to get through the meters of ice, if that was even possible.

Adam sure hoped it was.

The Empyrean herself may have been out of range from connecting with Adam’s suit, but she could at least see them by way of a beacon which was continuously transmitting their vitals for the ship to monitor and assess. 

Krill also had access to that information if he were needed to consult after some manner of injury, but otherwise they were mostly alone. 

There was another clattering echo as another chunk of ice founds its way to tumble downward and into the water below with a distant splash. The group of them turned in unison to observe their surroundings, but when they saw nothing, they continued on. The cave ahead of them was large and oval, wider than it was tall, but still big enough to fit Sunny comfortably inside.

They walked together in pairs of two with Etium bringing up the rear and Adam taking point. Sunny stuck at his back like glue and Maverick turned every so often to cover Etium. 

A low wind whistled through the tunnel, and touch he could not feel the cold, he could certainly imagine it. The walls and floors glittered in the light of their helmets lighting the path before them with a shallow beam of yellow light that didn’t do much to cut into the darkness before them. No one said a word cautious not to make their presence to obvious wo whatever might be lurking in the cave beyond.

Ramirez swept his light to the left and nearly jumped out of his skin.

His sudden startle caused everyone else to jump turning in place to observe the threat, a threat which wasn’t a threat at all but indeed something very strange, beyond the wall of ice, illuminated as a silhouette in the beam of Ramirez’s flashlight, was a structure. From what Adam could tell the black spire was simply the tip of a much larger structure that plunged downward into a layer of ice. From what he could see it was clear a constructed piece of architecture and not something that was simply created by the elements.

“What is…”

They turned slowly, shining their flashlights all around them only to find the impression of other distant spires, some larger and some smaller, most of them too difficult to see past layers and layers of ice. Adam was reminded of the monoliths back on the red mist planet, and shivered slightly. More cold wind blew through whistling through a crack somewhere up ahead.

“Do you see that?” Sunny asked pointing towards the end of the cave.

“See what?”

“Light, I think.”

“I don’t see anything.” Adam said, but even as he said it, he actively switched off his flashlight to peer more readily into the darkness.

The others followed suit, and to his surprise, Sunny had been right.

Up ahead where the tunnel curved around a bend, Adam could see the soft greenish glow of light building up at the cave’s edges. The blackness behind him was complete and unyielding, but it seemed that their tunnel was leading them somewhere. He urged everyone forward and together they trotted towards the opening. Something echoed in the cave behind them and Adam turned to look at Etium, “See anything.”

“Nothing chief, but if I dio, you can be sure that I am going to light that bastard up.”

Adam had no doubt of that, but he could only prey that Etium was fast rough on the draw. Even if he wasn’t he would probably buy maverick enough time to shoot whatever it was in the face.

Etiums untimely death was certainly not something he wanted to think about right now, and he cast it out of his mind focusing instead on the steadily growing light source just to their front. Deep blue walls had turned to light seafoam green, and by the time they broke from the tunnel entrance, light was all around them, more than enough of it to illuminate the scene that unfolded before them.

Maverick muttered a soft expletive.

And Ramirez nearly tripped over the nearest ice block, as the group of them emerged form the tunnel into a much larger cave, several times larger than the one that came before, large enough that inside, it was able to hold an entire hill, an icy clifftop which clambered its way up and around the massive black spiral with its dozen peaks. The structure was colossal stretching down into darkness and plunging into the sea below, but the icy room around it was even larger, and instead of being made out of dark grey metal, or something otherwise, the building was constructed with a material as red as blood spattered in sharp contrast across an expanse of blue white ice.

“Holy shit.” Maverick repeated, the group of them turned collectively so their necks craned back to stare upwards at the point of the distant spiral.

“Someone mind telling me what is going on!” Krill’s annoyed voice was just enough to break Adam out of his reverie long enough to turn around so krill could see . The little doctor had nothing more to furnish upon them other than a muttered. 

“Mmmmm.’

“You think that’s what we are looking for?’ Ramirez said 

Sunny snorted, “No, we were looking for the other mystical red spiral tower trapped for a thousand years under the ice.

“I know you are the saint of Anin, but  it seems to me you have no reason to weaponize sarcasm..” Ramirez muttered.”

Sunny certainly disagreed, but said nothing as they began their way further into the room trudging their way up the icy hillside and towards the peak, where the hill met the side of the crimson cathedral.

Still staring, Adam had a hard time fathoming what he was seeing. The structure was so strange and out of place, a red jewel against the icy backdrop. What was it? Why had it been put here? Was there any link to the polaris system? Was this maker technology or void technology, it was hard to say.

And what had happened.

Unless these people had been hell bent on building their structures under water, he doubted there had always been water here, or ice for that matter, so why was it here now.

And more importantly, did anyone survive?

That never seemed to be the case, but they had only ever ventured into one other Maker building outside of the light of Revelation, so it was hard to say. 

Their footsteps continued to crunch as they ade thor way upwards.

And the higher they went the more uneasy Adam became. For the longest time he wasn’t sure what bothered him so much. Below him, rising from the black ink of the underice sea, he could see more crimson towers jutting from the water, none of them as as large or grand as the one before, but still rather large.

Massive rusted chains linked the peaks of the building covered in glistening ice crystals sagging down into the water below like the array of an aged spiderweb. 

Maverick leaned gingerly over the edge to look down.

The cliff face narrowed as they went upward maybe fifty yards at its widest as they reached the top, and still his strange unease persisted. He would have chalked it up to nothing in particular, but that was when he noticed the strange score marks in the ice, jagged tears that punctured holes down through the first few layers and causing a splintering effect around the outer edge. In a way they looked like bullet holes or impact craters, but there were thousands of them, chewing up the ice ahead and leaving the ground beneath their feet unstable and difficult to walk on.

“Guys-”

He had barely managed to begin his warning when the sound began.

Or not a sund at first but simply a deep rattling rumble that shook upwards through their feet and into their very bones rattling their skulls inside their heads until his teeth bumped and jittered against each other.

Then the rumbling became a noise, a sort of thrumming rattle and the splintering of ice combined all into one.

And that is when the creature appeared, clambering up over the side of the cliff face to place itself between them and the red cathedral, its many legs skittering in the ice each powerful impact sending chips of crystal bursting into the air to come raining down around itse feet in a hail of glittering shards.

Somewhere behind him, he heard maverick sigh.

“Lovely, Ramirez remarked, giant furry ice crab.”