#but just know that there is a deep well of theatrical level absolutely fucking insane context i have to carry with me in regards to that

[squeakadeeks]

The evil question is if youd draw vore

it was WHAT

[bellanut]

Spastic rambling thoughts about this kings concert!

I’m still reeling I need to see that concert again NOW NOW NOW. Every SM artist get your notepads out THATS how you do it. For me there’s been a disconnect and awkwardness and just something missing from every other virtual concert I’ve seen so far, but this one blew all of that out of the water. It was like baring witness to a strength and PRO LEVEL from BBH that i didn’t know was in him. And I already had a high opinion of him 😂.

That was honestly taemin levels of production, like you could tell they considered every detail. I’m normally annoyed by the camera work in these shows, it feels like shitty music show cameras going through the standard movements and tricks in a cookie cutter way, but this? Fuck, whoever directed knew what they were doing. The way the camera moved was immersive and artistic without being distracting. And the angles they used oh my god THANK YOU FOR THAT. The stages were gorgeous and felt theatrical like a proper show, like it didn’t just feel like a standard SM soundstage, you know? UGH AND THE SOUND. Sometimes they over produce to the point where it doesn’t even sound live anymore, and other times the sound is kind of tiny and thin which feels cheap, but this sounded rich and deep while still feeling live (he had enough runs and belts and minor off key moments for it to be clear his mic was most definitely ON). His vocals are fucking insane I honestly don’t think he’s ever performed better, and he wasn’t lowballing behind backing tracks, his voice was the main event. I’m also impressed with how well he paced himself. It felt all out and theatrical, but I think he strategically restrained himself enough to still absolutely murder the vocals. Perfect choices, every single one.

And the VCR telling a story, tying the mood of the stages together aaahh that felt so nostalgic and like a true concert. Whyyyy haven’t other shows been doing that?!?

THAT PSYCHO STAGE WAS SO HOT I WILL NEVER RECOVER.

The connection with the audience was finally good too, it did actually feel like you were there with him 🥺. They nailed the tech and the approach. The timing of when the audience was audible, the volume, loud enough that they could yell out and actually interact with him. And of course BBH is a master of joking right back and being at ease playing with Eries. I mean the show literally ended AND HE LEFT THE VENUE and still he came back to just sit and chat for another half an hour. And the encore oh god that was ADORABLE. The way he led the audience like he was nervous it might not work. SO CUTE.

CRYING OVER ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS WITH MY ANSWER AT THE PIANO + BLACKING OUT OVER THE CALL ME BABY GROWL BLOOMING DAYS STAGE 🤯🤯. He absolutely nailed the exo energy all on his own. Baekhyun center stage main vocal lead dancer carrying exo songs I’m so proud of him ☺️

YOUNG TO TROUBLE TO GHOST ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I’ve always wanted to hear baekhyun cover trouble and groove on his own, I can’t believe at least 50% is real life now. He really did have the benefit of this being his first solo concert, like of course it was going to be exciting because so much of it was new. I laughed when he said he couldn’t do another concert tomorrow because he’d used up all his bullets. Yeah, he went all out.

UGH AND THE NEW SONGS WERE SO GOOD TOO. perfectly playfully thotily baekhyun.

[radio-goo-goo]

Queen 30 Day Challenge ║ Day 29 ║ Five Favourite Things About Queen       

so i might have accidentally blacked out and written a love letter/essay for this question so if that’s the sort of thing that floats your boat pls read on

1. Their Versatility I know this is said a lot, but one of my absolute favourite things about the band is just how many different music styles they have produced over their time together. I could literally rant forever about how much I love every single Queen era (including Hot Space and I will fist fight someone over this if I have to).

I went NUTS the first time I listened to Queen/Queen II because I couldn’t believe that they started off as this heavy rock meets epic fantasy kind of folksy sound that makes you want to go and run off into the forest and make fairy circles.

I think A Night At The Opera is probably the best example of how versatile Queen is. It’s genuinely masterpiece of an album and 100% deserves to be their most popular album. All of the tracks are so unique and its just such an experience to listen to every single time. 

And of course every single ballad they did; like there’s literally not a person on the planet who hasn’t heard at least one Queen ballad, if that’s not impressive idk what is.

2. Their Fashion This one isn’t that deep, I just really love their fashion and aesthetic, particularly from the early-mid 70′s. I LOVE that they all shared clothes and accessories in the early days, and the fact that they weren’t afraid to get a little bit experimental with their looks.

Zandra Rhodes is absolutely incredible and all of Freddie and Brian’s stage costumes from that era are absolutely beautiful. I also think there’s something oddly poetic about the fact that during the time where the boys were essentially broke and playing their smallest gigs was also the time where they made the effort to look the most grandiose and theatrical.

I also really appreciate that their look from the mid to late 80′s was pretty much exclusively “exhausted dad at the sunday neighbourhood bbq”. I think that was quite brave of them.

3. Their Stage Presence This one’s sort of mainly a Freddie appreciation thing but for a damn good reason because the man KNEW how to capture an audience. That description about how Freddie made it feel like he was talking to you directly in a crowd of hundreds of thousands is so accurate, even from low quality recordings of their concerts from 40 years ago it still feels the same way. The most obvious example of this is Live Aid, but if you haven’t already seen it, go watch Queen’s 1977 performance at Earl’s Court because after every few songs Freddie will just start talking to the audience either about how the night’s going or about the next song they’re going to do, but he talks in such a conversational way it really does feel like he’s just talking to you and its so soft.

I also need to talk about Wembley ‘86 because WOW do I get emotional watching that. Its impossible not to feel the energy from the band and the crowd, and you can tell how much fun all of the boys are having (especially during the acoustic set which might be my favourite part).

4. Their Vocal Harmonies Straight up I just can’t get over how incredible Brian, Freddie, and Roger’s voices sound together. I feel like I don’t even need to elaborate because y’all know exactly what I’m talking about. There are too many songs to give examples of but particularly all of Somebody To Love makes me go absolutely BANANAS (freddie was 100% correct when he said it was queen’s best song)

5. Just Like, Them As People I love that all of them are so different as individuals and the way that shows through their music. Their brotherly relationship really well and truly does warm my heart.

I love that Freddie knew he was a superstar and acted like it even when the band was only playing pub gigs and barely had a dollar to its name, that level of determination and self-confidence is honestly something I aspire to. I also love his consistent “i’m going to love the world and everyone in it but absolutely take no shit from anyone who tries to give it to me” outlook on life.

I love that Brian is so clever and multi-talented, please try and name another astrophysicist 3-D photographer international rock star (you CAN’T because that’s insane and completely ridiculous and it’s Brian and I love him for it). I love how stubborn and passionate he was about making music even if it did result in screaming matches with the rest of the band.

I love that Deaky essentially accidentally helped form one of the most popular rock groups in history, my mans joined the band at 19 and never intended to be a rock star but he did it and raised a whole family at the same time. I also love that this quiet little soft spoken bassist was the dancing queen of Queen and out of nowhere would write some of their greatest hit singles...  we really do have no choice but to stan.

I love that Roger tried to be an Adult and get a Real Life Job but said no fuck that i’m going to be a rock and roll star because that’s what i love and i’m good at it. I also love how in tune he was with the world and all the current fashions and modern trends, he really said i’m going to be well-read and cultured but make it sexy.

Essentially, I think I like Queen so much because it’s this perfect storm of four very distinct personalities that should absolutely clash but for some reason only bring out the best in each other and I think that’s really neat.

[grimalkinmessor]

Refract

(Okay, so, a friend of mine pointed out--after I pestered her for days--that she can't read things on Ao3. So I'm reposting this here so she has no excuse to deny me feedback anymore 😜 Love you, Hev!!!)

Starker - Superior Iron Man/The Spider

It was an oversight on his part.

A grevious oversight.

An oversight that was costing him time, money, and popularity. Unacceptable. Time was annoying, money was dispensable, but someone had publicly defaced his name. On his own damn building.

Unacceptable.

Tony stared up at Stark Tower with a scowl that could melt titanium. Several jittery, frightened PR agents and employees fluttered around him, not daring to get too close. At least they weren't that stupid.

"Who did this," Tony seethed. No one answered him for a beat, and his fury skyrocketed. "Who did this? I want a fucking name!" He roared as he whirled on the fidgety interns, who scattered like bowling pins in the face of his rage.

"W-We don't know, sir," A random employee in a lab coat stuttered. "The c-cameras were s-sc-scrambled, sir; they didn't catch the perpetrator. But the criminal did leave behind this." She shakily extended a black slip of cardstock, and Tony snatched it from her.

He flipped the flimsy strip of paper over to reveal a bright red spider printed in the center of the black. His lip curled up into a sneer. "A spider? Is this supposed to be a calling card?"

The woman swallowed. "With all due respect, sir," She pointed a trembling finger up at the message splattered across the stainless steel and glass of Stark Tower in drying blood, a body staked beneath it. Tony unwittingly followed her gaze. "I think that's enough of a calling card."

He's Gone

STARK

Ravin' Mad!

Tony snarled, "I'll find this bastard. And when I do, they're going to wish they'd never been born."

•🕸️•

Rumors of a mercenary called the Spider littered the darknet like candy wrappers. Attestments to his prowess, curses to his name, shaky accounts of his insanity. It was enough for Tony to put together a profile, but not enough to get an actual name.

The Spider had popped up in the merc community about six months ago, by the looks of it, and began to carve his name into the world with numerous bodies in various stages of dismemberment. Statements said that he hung around a regular haunt for mercenaries all the way in New York, but no one had ever seen his face, nor heard of a name beyond the one used as a title.

"What the hell was a merc from New York doing in San Francisco? Besides fucking up my building," Tony growled as he ripped ruthlessly through firewalls and code locks in search of more to go on.

When further digging yielded nothing, Tony nearly flipped the table over in a fit of anger. Instead, he dug his fingers deep into the lacquer his desk and drew in a deep breath. Tapping the bracelet on his wrist, Tony stood and rolled his shoulders. "JARVIS, clear my schedule for the next week. I'm going to New York."

"Shall I reschedule your meetings for next week, sir?"

"No. I wasn't going to go to them anyway. Send Pepper and her complaints to voicemail," Tony drawled as the symbiotic metal slunk up over his chest and secured itself into something solid.

"Of course, sir."

Then Tony was off to stomp on a pest.

•🕸️•

Tony Stark walking into Sister Margaret's was like a lion strolling into a herd of sheep. The entire bar immediately went silent, tension and fear thick and cloying on the back of his tongue. Tony strode across the room with easy confidence until he reached the bar itself. The crowd of unwashed murderers parted for him like the Red Sea for Moses.

Shaggy, dirty blond hair hung over thick coke bottle glasses to tangle in an even dirtier goatee. Bloodshot eyes of an unidentifiable color glanced lazily up at him. An almost imperceptible flash of tension twitched through the bartender's body, before it slumped back into a nonchalant slouch. "Can I help you, Wall Street?"

"Weasel, is it?" Tony drawled, the picture of relaxation. "I'm looking for a friend of yours."

"Friendship is for toddlers and Bronys," Weasel sneered. "Whoever you're looking for, they aren't here. Now run along back to your supermodel orgies and Extremis campaigns. Unless you have a fetish that makes you make want to rub elbows with us peasants, that is."

"Oh, but I would just love to get up close and personal with a certain arachnid of yours. Because he's already rubbed me all kinds of the wrong fucking way." Tony lashed out a hand caught Weasel by the collar of his hoodie. Almost every patron in the bar pulled a gun on him, and a few even shot. Tony glanced back dispassionately with half-lidded eyes as the bullets ricocheted off his force field and sought their way back into their owners' skulls. Six people dropped to the floor of the bar, dead. Tony sniffed and turned back to Weasel, whose calm facade had abruptly abandoned him. "You have three days to get the Spider to come to me in San Francisco, or I burn you and your establishment to the ground, understand?" He said darkly.

Weasel had gone pale, faintly green, and he looked half a second away from puking as he nodded rapidly. Tony released him and wiped his hand off of his pants with a grimace.

"Good. Three days, and then I come after you with war on my heels. Don't disappoint me."

Tony left the bar behind him and straightened out his three-piece suit with a huff. He flicked his wrist and the surveillance device he'd implanted in Weasel's phone flared to life. Sure enough, not five minutes after he'd walked out of the bar, the Bluetooth in his ear flared to life.

"Wes! What's the occasion? You calling to congratulate me? I've gotten several thank you notes in the mail these past few days—I'm famous!" A voice considerably younger than Tony expected chirped.

"You are an absolute fucking idiot that's going to get me killed," Weasel snarled back. "Do you know who just walked into my bar?"

"Kesha!"

"Tony Stark, you fucking crazy bitch," Weasel hissed. "Your little stunt on your last mark brought Zeus himself down on my ass. Now you have to get your ass down here and fix it before I strangle you."

The voice's jovial tone dipped into something black and sharp. "Careful, Jackie. You wouldn't want two demons on your ass, now would you?"

A falter, then Weasel seemed to shake it off and said, "Just get down here before I throw away all of your Gushers."

"Not my fruit snacks! You monster!"

Tony's nose scrunched up in reproach. This was the man who'd defaced his building? Well, from the sound of it, the 'man' was a boy who wasn't really all there. Not that the knowledge softened Tony's ire in the slightest.

His bracelet pinged with a location. Tony grinned, shark-like, and let his armor slough over him once more. From there, it wasn't hard to launch up and over the few streets to where the signal was originating from. Sure enough, a brief scan of the alley displayed a man with all his organs neatly arranged outside his body on the dirty concrete. A small figure was crawling along the wall of one of the buildings, away from the scene. It was a full body suit made of black spandex, which left little to the imagination. The same blood red spider symbol that had been printed on the card marred both the back and the chest of the suit. The Spider.

Bingo.

Tony dove down towards the alley and fired off a repulsor blast just in front of the figure. Recoiling back from the blast, two slim lenses of red snapped over to glare at him. Tony slid to a smooth stop just before the Spider and hummed as the merc tipped his head at him. "Hi there, Muffet. I don't think we've formally met."

The lenses flickered at him as the Spider leaned back to lounge easily on the wall. "Nope, can't say we have. But what is formality, really? It's an outrageous concept when you think about it. After all," Here, the Spider leaned forward and his mask stretched like he was smiling beneath it. "If formal was wearing a codfish on your head, would you wear it?"

The casual reference to Alice in Wonderland reignited Tony's fury at the message left on his tower. It was obviously meant as a dig. He raised his hand to fire off another repulsor blast right at the Spider's face, but instead of looking scared, the brat just draped an arm dramatically over his face like a fainting maiden.

"Oh my, mister, please don't shoot me," He bemoaned in a theatrical southern bell impression. He fanned his mask with his other hand, only held up by his feet as he swooned. "I don't think I could take you teasing me so."

Before Tony could disperse the cloud of confusion the Spider's rambling had incited, the brat flipped off the wall and onto Tony's shoulders. One hand keeping his balance, the other reached between the shoulder slats and wrenched out a handful of wires. The suit guttered.

"Oops! Hope you didn't need those," the Spider sang as he backflipped off Tony and onto the nearest roof. The suit quickly made up for the lost tech, but it was enough of a stall for the Spider to vanish, "It hasn't been a pleasure, Stark! Buh-bye!" Called over his shoulder.

•🕸️•

Tony was infuriated.

He was known as the unbeatable, the untouchable, the one not to be outwitted. He was Tony fucking Stark.

And yet in his first altercation with what had to be a middle level threat, he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, much less actually make a move. It tore at his pride until he became obsessed, tearing through archives and sending scans through voice recognition for something—something that would give him leverage.

Which he shouldn't have even fucking needed in the first place.

But no, there was nothing. Nothing but the memory of a glittery voice laughing in his ear, the stretch of black spandex over distinctive muscle that made Tony take more bedpartners than normal, growling angry obscenities into the sheets as he took everything out on his conquests—both his rage, and his lust. It left them bruised and limping away from him after, a spooked look in their eyes. It just made Tony angrier.

Three days ticked by with nothing. Then, just when Tony was fully ready to go blast Sister Margaret's into next week, about to take off towards New York, an encrypted email pinged into his inbox. It was an address.

'Do not tell him I gave this to you. If you can't kill him, then I don't want him coming after me. Frankly, I'm more scared of him than I am of you. I just don't want you nuking my bar.

—W'

Tony bared his teeth in a savage grin, triumph blooming hot in his chest. The slight niggle of indignance in the back of his mind—the brat was hardly more intimidating than him—went ignored. Address loaded into his suit, he shot off towards Queens.

•🕸️•

The side of the building exploded beneath the force of the blast Tony directed at it. He flew forward and could have laughed in delight when the sound of a familiar voice cursing reached his ears. The dust began to clear as Tony ventured confidently into the rubble. A rough bout of coughing drew Tony's eye towards the far wall, which had collapsed on top of a waifish figure that was struggling to pull themselves up.

Wild brown eyes snapped up to glare at him, plush lips twisted into a snarl that bared actual fangs. "You bastard," That same shimmering voice rasped, scraped raw with pain. "You destroyed my lab!"

"You hung a dead guy from my tower," Tony replied as he made his way forward, head tipped to the side curiously.

"Oh don't tell me you're mad that I killed one of your chairmen." Doe eyes rolled as the kid shook out the dust from his curls. He had freckles. Tony drew his tongue across his bottom lip, intent. "I doubt you have actual emotions as it is. You didn't even know he worked for you, I bet," He said daringly as he twisted to try and push the wall off of him.

"You smeared viscera all over my name. Literally," Tony growled as he stalked even closer.

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't actually about you," the Spider drawled as he began to heft the wall up with the barest of strains. A mutant.

It decidedly did not.

Tony raised an arm and fired off a slip of liquid metal. It landed on the piece of wall the Spider was levering and quickly forced it back down. He wheezed as the full force of Stark tech crushed back into his chest. Tony stopped to look over the pinned bug, brow raised. He leaned down to better take in the amber shine of narrowed eyes, the sprinkle of freckles across a button nose, the endearing tangle of coffee curls draped over dark spider-leg lashes. He took in the sharpness of those bared fangs, then admired the petal pink softness of those lips. Tony wondered if he defanged the little pest, if they would grow back. More relevantly, how quickly would they grow back, and if he could fit his cock between those lips in the recovery time.

He leaned down even further. "Did you really think that you could get away with defaming me?"

A wide, broken glass grin cut up at him. "What're you gonna do, big man? You gonna toss me off a building? Threaten my loved ones? I don't have any!"

Just then, JARVIS chimed in his ear, "Facial recognition scan complete, sir. The Spider's true identity is one Peter Benjamin Parker."

"Peter Parker, huh?" Tony mused with a grin. The feral amusement slid off the Spider's face, and he went pale. "Let's call your bluff, Spidey. Any extended family, J?"

"All deceased, sir. But records display what appears to be a close friend of Parker's: Harry Osborn."

Tony smirked, "Is that so?"

He expected Parker to blanch further, maybe even make a bid for his friend's life, but to his surprise, Parker just tossed his head back and laughed, long and loud and unhinged. He gasped for air in between cackles, and Tony flicked his fingers in annoyance. The metal pressed the wall down harder, and Parker wheezed out a last delirious giggle. "You think I give a single shit about that piece of literal fucking human garbage? You're grasping at straws, Red Queen!"

Tony wasn't deterred. "I'd say something witty involving 'off with your head', but I've come to the realization that I don't actually want you dead," He mused as he propped his boot on the wall as well, just because he was feeling vindictive.

Parker raised an eyebrow, both wary and intrigued. It probably wasn't very often that people declared that they didn't want to kill him. He searched Tony's face with eyes that had lost their earlier giddy sheen. In their place were two hard shards of topaz, much more intelligent than the madness he'd observed before. "Then how do you want me, Executioner?"

"At my feet," Tony hissed as he fired a second slip of metal right at the kid's face. It was a sedative, one that worked instantly and wore off only when the tech was removed.

Parker was out like a light.

•🕸️•

However tempted he was to tie Parker to his bed, Tony wasn't an idiot. The casual strength the brat had displayed would hardly be the only mutation Parker had up his sleeve, and Tony didn't want his house trashed. So he tossed Parker into the cell he'd created to house the Hulk, then left to give himself a congratulatory glass of Scotch, leaving JARVIS with orders to notify him when Parker woke.

Tony poured himself three fingers of Scotch, feeling like he'd caught a wild panther. He had wrangled a wild animal into a cage, a collar ready to be fastened around its neck, but the challenge of taming the beast looming overhead left a tingle of thrill in his chest.

He wanted to break Parker, to weigh down his limbs until he could lift nothing heavier than a butterfly, to cut up his sharp tongue beyond repair, to pry out his fangs and carve away the stores of venom likely resting in his jaw until he was nothing more than a pretty bauble for Tony to admire.

(There was a small part of him—very, very small—that lamented that Peter would become disgustingly boring should he lose those things. That suggested that he cap the fangs instead of removing them, just to let Peter try to bite him, try to end him, and watch that sweet face blossom in rage when nothing came of it. Wanted to hear him curse and watch metal twist beneath those delicately small hands as he railed against Tony, oh so powerful and yet oh so his. Fashion a sign that read 'Beware of Spider' because a pet he wanted but a beast he'd gained. See those amber eyes burn up at him because that helpless rage was a thing of beauty. The part of him that acknowledged that part of Peter's appeal was that he was a beast, a monster, and Tony wanted to make him kneel.)

(Not that he would ever admit it.)

"Sir, Mr. Parker is awake." JARVIS intoned, a bit ruffled if Tony was reading that tone correctly.

"Awake and lively, I assume." Tony tossed back the rest of his drink and wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers as he made his way back down to the cell.

JARVIS didn't answer, but he didn't need to. Tony came in sight of the cell just as he heard a loud bang echo down the hall. Peter had apparently thrown himself at the wall. They held up, of course. The brat may have super strength but he was no Hulk.

He stilled when Tony came closer, poised to leap again at the walls, fangs bared. Though the window into the room was mirrored, Peter's head snapped to the side and focused with startling accuracy on Tony. Slowly, he straightened out of his crouch and turned towards the mirror. His head tipped, puppy-like.

"Do you think you can hold me?" Came the soft inquiry with an innocent blink of those doe eyes.

"Yes, actually." Tony didn't bother with the microphone. The kid's senses were enhanced—he could probably pick out Tony's heartbeat through the four foot reinforced concrete. "I'm doing it right now."

"You're letting your technology do the holding for you," Peter spat back. "Because you know you aren't man enough to grapple with me face to face."

Tony's lips twitched. "Does goading usually get you what you want?"

Instead of getting angry, or denying the blatant manipulation tactic, Peter smirked at him, amused. "Yes, actually. Wes can't stand it."

The gleeful note to his voice made something in Tony's chest flicker. He drew his tongue along his bottom lip in thought, wondering. "So what are you, Peter Parker?"

He, of course, meant the mutations. He had never seen a mutant that could do what the Spider could do. He could stick to walls, he could spin actual webs, he could lift things easily ten times his own weight, not to mention his bite was most likely lethal. Almost all mutations manifested in a latent gene of some sort, one that had to be put under stress to become active. The gene was not all-encompassing. It gave one gift, and no matter how powerful, it was still only one. Peter had at least five.

But Peter didn't take it that way. He beamed at Tony through the glass and began to him to himself, swaying in place to a silent rhythm. "I am what happens when an angel falls from the sky. I am what happens when goodness realizes that good and evil do not truly exist. I am that one that dared to ask why a God sits on his throne, and lead a third of his children down into the chasm with me." He drew his arms sensually up his sides, cupped his throat, and ended with his hands tangled in his messy curls. He grinned at Tony, eyes half-lidded, taunting. "Do you think yourself a God, Stark?"

The conversation he'd had with Murdock rang in his ears like the high of a church bell. A damning, indisputable truth.

"No use thinking when I know," Tony drawled, heart thudding calmly in his chest. But Peter seemed to hear the flutter of his excitement anyway, known what he was thinking, because his grin widened.

"Mayhaps this was supposed to be the ultimate battle!" Peter tossed his arms high. He began to twirl across the room, light on his toes, humming erratically. "God versus Man! Or, well, it would have been, had poor Daredevil been up to the task. But alas, he fell to the temptation of sacrificial miracles—the taste of the rainbow! Let's call him Skittles from now on, yeah? But if Man won't kill God,"

Peter slung to a stop in front of the glass, a small palm smacked up against the glass, and it cracked. The Spider grinned, predatory.

"Then the Devil will do it."

Adrenaline flooded Tony's veins, made his teeth buzz in expectation—an urge to bite. "Are you forgetting Revelations?"

"Hardly," Peter trilled, ecstatic. "I don't need to win to ruin you, baby. I can the devastation to your reform! Besides, I like you much better than the other one. A Martyr. Please." His eyes rolled as his fingers scraped along the hairline fissures in the glass which had, until that moment, been bulletproof. "But you're not him. You're not Jesus—you're Judas. Ready to sell out the world for a few slips of paper that ultimately will amount to nothing. You are...pure greed," He breathed, enraptured even as his eyes darkened.

"And you think you can stop me? You're a child," Tony sneered, but it was a front for the surge of angry hunger that had roared to life in his chest. He ached with the need to press his fingers around that pale, flawless column of flesh and stain his mark upon it. Take that odd, rapturous insanity and breathe it into his lungs. Brand it back into Peter's skin with his mouth. Mine.

"I saw the way you looked at me, Stark. I can feel it right now," Peter sighed pleasantly as he continued to stroke his fingers down the glass. "The temptation that will allow me to strangle your empire from the inside out. Press my knives to your skin and snip it from the roots." He crooned.

"Oh please, baby," Tony purred. "We both know you don't actually give a shit about me taking over the world. You profit off other people's anger. You can't have the moral high ground. Your hands are covered in blood."

Peter slammed his hand into the glass again, hard, and the glass splintered. It pierced his skin, drew blood to paint its way down his wrist. He started humming again, louder. "Hmmm, you can't fix your broken promise, our ties have come undone; your lies fool no one. You can't offer your poison to me, in your kingdom of filth," He sang, high and eerie. He grinned, fangs bared. He leaned his head against the glass, pupils blown, and looked up at Tony through his lashes as he murmured, "You're just afraid to get your hands dirty."

"Oh but I don't need to," Tony breathed, giddy. "Not when I have you to do it for me." Without further ado, Tony spun on heel and began to stalk away, back turned on Peter's sudden snarl.

•🕸️•

When Tony pulled himself from beneath the rubble of his building three days later, the Spider's farewell still sparkling in his ears, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Forgot to tell you, I hid some bombs around here when I left Louie up there on your sign. My bad. Payback's a bitch, baby. But really, you could use some redecoration—far too much white. Red's more my color, for future reference, though I'm going to assume you knew that." The recording had mused, suit reaquired as black, clawed fingers toyed with the leather strip of red around his throat. He'd blown a kiss at the screen, the brat, and then the explosion behind him had cut out the feed.

Laughter rang from Tony's chest, light and toxic, and he turned his dusty face to the sky and grinned. A predator, a chase—a hunt.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

[brandonkbills]

Ghost concert on Acid

Back in September a friend of mine introduced me to Ghost, showed me some of their more popular songs and music videos and my fancy you could definitely say was tickled. I was instantly drawn to the costumes and the theatricality of them. I’d continue to listen to their more popular songs like Square Hammer, Cirice, Rats, Dance Macabre etc.

He invited me to come see them with him on their Ultimate Tour Named Death in SLC, Utah. I was immediately down. I was so looking forward to this show but had no idea what exactly I was in for.

In the parking lot he offers me some LSD and he was expecting us to just microdose but feeling brave I decide on taking the full tab. Things feel pretty normal as I groove to Twin Temple, the Satanic doo-wop band who’s opening for them. I look over to my friend, he has another tab of LSD on his fingertip and offers it to me. We both take an additional tab, we’re going in balls deep now.

Twin Temple ends their set and the audience waits with anticipation. I start to really feel something as I watch the people in the pit from the seats above; they move around like their own living organism. Suddenly, black out. The audience roars eagerly waiting for the show to begin. They kick it off with Ashes immediately followed by Rats and just rock my dick off immediately but even the instant dick rocking couldn’t prepare me for what was to come. Cardinal Copia is just mesmerizing to watch on stage. It’s immense fun to watch him dance around and sing all so passionately, and his intense sexual charisma is just hypnotic. He’s especially delightful in between songs. He holds the audience in the palm of his hand. Then he ominously utters “We’ll see how well we get to know each other” I now know shit’s gonna get crazy. The Cardinal asks the crowd “Are you all feeling tingly yet?? No? We’ll get you there.” I’ve no idea what that’s about.

I’m now tumbling down deep, dark mental roads during this badass satanic spectacle. The two Ghoul guitarists begin a riff off. A Heavy Metal Ghoul Duel if you will. My mind’s digging far down into my soul as these two masters of their instruments pull out deep rooted interpersonal quandaries from within my psyche. It’s like each guitarist is a little ghoul on my shoulder and each have their turn making their solos a chance to make their case. The Ghouls guide me down this train of thought as the black guitar Ghoul leads to the thoughts “You’ve always been curious of Satanism but that’s not you. You’re really not a Satanist.” I’ve never seriously considered the thought of being a Satanist. The Ghoul with the white guitar brings me to “Oh? And Why’s that? What exactly about it do you not agree with?”. I think to myself “Oh shit”. I don’t disagree with any of their ideas necessarily. Independence from Religion and being the Master of your own reality sound pretty fuckin cool to me. I stand in awe as these two ghouls shred opposite the stage from one another across the checkerboard floor. It’s like a mental chess match and it’s no question that by the end of it the white guitar ghoul was the victor. “I’m just tripping, I’m on drugs.” I think to myself. “Just because the white ghoul won the guitar battle doesn’t mean I’m a Satanist now...but also it doesn’t mean I’m not...I’ll keep an open mind”. The song continues to rock on and they just absolutely dominate the arena. After the song, the audience blows up with applause. I clap. Man, I clap so hard. I clap so hard I can hardly feel my hands and before I know it, I feel this insane vibrational aura around my hands. The Cardinal speaks with certainty “Oh yeah, You’re feeling tingly now”.

Holy fucking shit.

Miasma starts. I’ve never heard this song before but I’m instantly digging it and jamming away and then Papa Nihil appears out of thin air in a cloud of white fog with this epic fucking Saxophone solo. This is easily the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever witnessed. A Satanic Pope with sunglasses fuckin blowing everyone away on a Sax like Bill fucking Clinton on late night. What could be cooler?? It’s equal parts mind blowingly ridiculous and hilariously awesome.

Now I’ve been to concerts where during a song I’ve thought to myself “This is fine but I can’t wait for the next song”. This is not one of those concerts. I’m totally enthralled by every single set entry. Every single god damn song’s just incredible. The whole show is an audible and visual feast. There are times I catch myself just gazing into the stained-glass style mural in the back. There’s a faux painted portrait of Papa Nihil in the center of the mural. Spirit starts. Papa Nihil’s forehead breaks into fractals and starts to dance and weave into itself infinitely. I begin to suspect Ghost has tons of fans who trip and it’s just a thing that Ghost is aware of. I don’t know how true this is. Either way the idea is entertaining.

From the Pinnacle to the Pit has me staring at the stage during a guitar solo as I literally feel my fucking face melt off. Meanwhile slowly forming a grin on my face like some crazy demon man just to have a *POP* sudden burst of fireworks into a blackout that slaps that silly fucking grin off my face and my jaw nearly drops to the floor.

I start to notice that some people just are not as into the concert as I am. I’m assuming they are just Mormons and/or other religious folk who showed up unaware of how inherently Satanic Ghost’s music is.

Spöksonat begins, it’s very dark on stage but there are these bright blue/violet shapes beaming out from the darkness and some people around me get headaches and exit. I interpret this as weak-minded religious sheep/mormons whose meek minds can’t handle Ghost’s awesome and enchanting music. They’re too buried in their illusory faith. Again, idk how true this is but I love to believe this. It’s definitely what I believed at the time of the trip.

He is starts. I begin to realize. This is my new faith. I am in awe. The song is composed and performed with such conviction and love, I think to myself “If this is Satanism’s attempt to convert me and this much effort was put in to this to make it this beautiful... I just don’t want to refuse.” The next song begins. Mummy Dust. Which in the Cardinal’s words is “So gosh darn Infernally fucking heavy that it will not only wobble your asses but it will TICKLE YOUR TAAIINNNTS” and tickle my taint it does.

Kiss the Go-Goat is yet another excellent groovy jam but then Dance Macabre comes on right after, ooooh shit buddy I get excited. I start clapping and dancing, I stand up on the stairs, grab the railing and whip my hair around. I dance my god damned heart out and as I dance I see the Cardinal walk to the left side of the stage and he looks right at me, I fucking felt it. He nods approvingly and returns to performing. I finally feel like I fully understand the lyrics as I see this song live. “Just wanna be, wanna bewitch you all night”. That’s Tobias Forge not just saying he wants to be with us all night but he wants to enchant and perform for us all night because that is what this brilliant master of his craft was born to do. He has as much fun as the audience does at these shows, if not, more. This song would’ve been a damn fine closer but as stated in the lyrics, he didn’t wanna end like that.

Square Hammer hits and it hits hard. People are losing their minds, myself included. Still riding the energy of that last song, I head bang my soul out of my damn body. Once again, I fully understand the lyrics. “Are you on the Square? Are you on the level? Are you ready to swear right here right now, before the devil?”. I realize absolutely fucking am. When the show ended The Cardinal waved everyone goodbye and you could see how thankful he was for an audience and I’m still not sure if this was the drugs or a special effect (pretty sure it was the drugs) but each band member appeared to have strings like a marionette while waving goodbye and bowed to the audience and the audience appeared to having strings too. It looked like a lighting effect but I still have no idea how that happened, most likely a hallucination. So fucking cool regardless.

I left the arena drenched in sweat, baptized into a new yet familiar world. I don’t see life the same way I did before (but hey, that’s LSD for you). I realized through this trip how badass the symbol for rebellion against tyranny really is. Along with the profound nature of freedom from religion and realizing self divinity; that you the individual possess powers of a god and most importantly, I just had a good fucking time. My first Ghost concert was a religious experience and one hell of bash. They’re easily my favorite band now and I’ve been listening to all their albums on repeat and I can’t wait till I can see them again.