#like what do u mean not saying my anxious thoughts out loud and repeatedly checking doors is a compulsion

[livefromtheyard]

btw if i ever disappear for Several days it's just bc i'm having an anxiety spiral. i still have the yard brain worm. peace and love on planet earth ❤️

[cherry-sofa-729]

Molt

Another fic! This one mentions sex and describes spiders and spiders moulting (also I spell moulting with a U I’m Canadian get over it)

———————

Moulting. The bane of Virgil’s existence.

He rolled over and checked his phone calendar and groaned. He wasn’t supposed to to moult for another two weeks! He didn’t wanna be in pre for two weeks!

But he knew what was happening, and he couldn’t ignore it. He already wanted to make a web mat. And now he knew why his appetite was insatiable the last few days, he had been building up his food reserves.

His mind flashed to him eating uncooked rice at 2 am like little crunchy boys. Yeah. Building up food reserves.

Would there be enough space in his burrow for a web mat? Probably, right? And he could web up the entrance so no one disturbed him…

That sounded super good right about now. But so did not moving at all.

Being half human half tarantula, he often had to battle his animal instincts with his human sensibility. For example…

Virgil flopped over and ran a hand over his stomach, trying to gauge if he was hungry. He wasn’t, but his human half was telling him it was breakfast time.

“Knock knock Virgie! It’s Patton and it’s almost noon so, time to get up.”

He rolled back onto his stomach, spider legs flexing and twitching to roll off the blanket and pick him up. With the legs crawling along his feel didn’t even touch the floor.

He grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and his usual hoodie, deciding to skip an undershirt that day. He pulled off his thin undershirt and sweatpants and slipped on his hoodie. He was glad all his clothes had holes for his legs to get through, and he was a master of getting them on.

Then he went to pull on his skinny jeans.

“God dammit.” He mumbled, trying to force them up over his hips and more importantly, his ass.

Why did has abdomen, or in human terms, his ass, have to swell up so much?!

It wasn’t enough to be noticeable, unless you regularly stared at his ass, in which case, creepy, but it was enough to make his skinny jeans impossible to get on.

He threw the skinny jeans to the side, balling his fists before heading to the mirror.

He knew it was bad to judge his appearance on his pre moult form, but he couldn’t help himself.

After staring at his slightly chubby stomach for far too long, he twisted around, trying to see his ass. He frowned. He was so fat…

He rolled his shoulders, his moult didn’t feel too bad right now, but it was certainly tight.

He rubbed his face, tired of the thoughts running through his brain and the anxiety of facing his friends like this.

But he found a pair of loose sweatpants that reminded him of when he used to moult with the dark sides. Days of lounging in his burrow, ignoring Janus’ and Remus’ well meaning attempts to care for him. At least Jay understood, as he had to shed his scales. But Virgil’s didn’t itch like Jan’s did, rather felt crusty and hard. But that was later.

“Virgil? Cmon kiddo you must be hungry! And you don’t wanna miss the video game tournament Roman’s set up.”

“I’ll be out in a minute Pat.” Virgil said.

“You said that last time. That was an hour ago, kiddo.”

Really? God, Virgil lost track of time. If only he wasn’t so spacey like this.

“Sorry, Pat. I’m just… a little unfocused today.”

“Oh! Are you alright, Virgil?”

“Yeah yeah. Just… spacey. I’ll be down… right now.” He opened the door and tried to smile at the freckled face below him.

Patton gave him a big grin that only faltered slightly as he looked at him. “Eyes out today, huh?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t bother to hide his eight eyes today, he knew Patton didn’t love them, but still.

“And no skinny jeans! You must be tired today.” The more Patton talked the more Virgil wanted to be left alone. He wanted to curl in a little ball in his burrow and not move.

“Cmon! I’ve got lunch for you.”

The two went downstairs and Virgil grabbed the sandwich sitting on the table. Logan was eating a salad beside him and reading a book at the same time. However, when Virgil sat to eat, he put the book down and smiled.

“Virgil. Good afternoon. You had quite an extended rest.”

“I was mostly staring at my ceiling.” He mumbled, trying not to gag at the smell of food. He pulled a bit of bread off the end of his sandwich and even that was a lot.

Logan’s brow furrowed as he watched Virgil pick at his food. “Are you adequate, Virgil?”

“Huh?” Virgil shook himself awake. “Sorry, Lo. I’m fine.” He tried to take a bite of sandwich only to stop midway, leaving a bite mark in the bread.

Because right then his moult started acting up.

The slight tickle, the sudden overwhelming awareness of the hard crust on his back, Virgil was filled with the urge to slam his back into the chair to shatter the moult.

He compromised with a hard shutter, going on for several seconds. While he was shaking wildly, he threw his moult into the chair repeatedly, trying to right it somehow.

He didn’t register Logan snapping in his face for a moment. He rose from his trance with a final shiver. “Huh?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “I believe you have just told me a falsehood. I’ve done extensive research into tarantulas and your current behaviour lines up with a period of time called-“

Virgil slapped a hand over Logan’s mouth. “Shut up!” He spat, looking around the room to see if Patton heard anything. “Don’t say it so loud.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Virgil, there is no reason to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not…” he slumped into his chair as the logical side moved both their lunches farther away from them. His hand went low to trace small circles over his silk glands.

“Are you okay?”

“I wanna make a web.” He blurted, half asleep again. He stayed very still, staring at nothing as he rubbed his silk glands very slowly.

Logan noticed his fingers start to press in and grabbed his wrist.

Virgil hissed, trying to get away.

“Not here, alright? You can make a web in your room.”

He leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry. My brain is so scattered right now.”

“It’s perfectly alright.” Logan stood up and filled a glass of water for Virgil, getting the purple silly straw he knew he liked. “How about we tell the others and then they’ll leave you alone for however long your pre-moult lasts.” He put the glass in front of him.

Virgil grabbed it and began to drink. “It’s gonna be two weeks.” He spoke around the straw in his mouth.

“Oh? You have a schedule. May I see it?”

“No.”

“Alright.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Are you ready to speak with the others?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little, well, anxious-“ Logan reached out to pat his shoulder.

Virgil saw the hand coming towards him and flung himself off the chair in a panic. “DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Logan looked momentarily shocked before smiling softly at Virgil’s terrified expression. “Ah yes. You will be easily triggered and sensitive. Of course. My apologies, I should not have reached out to you. Now, I believe the best course of action is to inform Patton and your boyfriend.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Are you worried how they will take it?”

“A bit. I know they won’t freak out, but they might… bother me.”

“Remember that whatever happens, I support you.”

“Thanks Lo.” Virgil smiled weakly.

“And I’ll try my best to make sure Patton and Roman leave you alone during this vulnerable period.”

“Roman won’t let me out of his sight if he thinks I’m sick.”

“That may be true, but I’ll do my best. He also won’t leave you alone with your larger-than-usual posterior.”

“Hey!” Virgil snapped, a hand flying to his ass.

“What? I am impartial. I am simply stating a fact.” He said with a smirky grin.

Virgil couldn’t help but blush, but he shrugged it off trying to remain cool. ”Ehh. That might be a stress relief.”

“I thought you were touch adverse during this period.”

“Well yeah, but Roman eating me out isn’t exactly a lot of touch if I don’t want it to be.”

Logan pulled a face, and Virgil burst into laughter.

They gathered in the living room after Logan called a family announcement. Roman and Patton looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

Virgil gulped. He didn’t like the staring. It made his heart pound and his palms sweat.

“I’m, well, I’m moulting.” Curiosity changed to looks of confusion. “Um… I have to get rid of my exoskeleton? The coating on my legs. So, over the next two weeks I’ll be kinda holed up in my room? And I need you guys not to bother me. Don’t even knock, okay? Not even for meals, I don’t eat anything.”

Patton’s jaw dropped. “You don’t eat anything? At all?” As the mind palace resident chef and dad, he hated the idea of skipping a meal.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. That sucks!”

“So you wanna just go into your little cave and… what? Sleep?”

“Disassociate.”

“For two weeks?”

“Yeah. And I’d like to start now.”

Then Roman asked a very interesting question.

“Can we watch?”

It was lucky that Virgil was spacey during this, because otherwise he’d be freaking out.

He scuttled to his closet on thin spider legs, pulling out his extra blankets and pillows for his burrow. There were already some down there, but the more the merrier when it came to pillows and blankets in his opinion.

Patton, Roman and Logan watched his every move.

He set the blankets on the floor as he shoved his bed to the other side of the wall with a loud clang.

Underneath the bed was a hole, that led to the tunnel that led to his burrow.

He couldn’t stop the smile lighting up his face. He grabbed the blankets and descended into the cave.

Virgil’s burrow wasn’t big enough to stand up in, but wide enough to fully lie down and stretch out his spider legs so they wouldn’t get sore. The dirt walls were coated with soft webbing, dirt floor covered in squishy blankets and pillows. A room off of the main room was a completely modern and normal bathroom.

Hey, mind palace has no rules.

He added the ones he brought to the pile, flicking on the orange pumpkin-shaped fairy lights that strung around the room.

As the room filled with soft orange light, Virgil counted his water bottles and made sure his laptop was plugged into the extension cord.

He crawled upstairs and caught sight of his audience, still staring at the hole under his bed.

He waved them forward. “Come. Last change before I seal the entrance.”

A huge part of him roared in anger at letting others into his burrow, his private space. But he knew they were just looking.

“Slide on your butt.” He said as his legs carried him down nimbly and swiftly.

There was hardly enough space for the four of them and Virgil liked it that way. They were forced to stay at the door, peer in enough to see, but not enough to touch.

“Oh wow, Virgil. It’s so cozy!” Patton squealed, careful not to touch the webbing on the walls.

Roman came a little further into the room, reaching out to take his boyfriend’s hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Please let me stay with you, my beloved. I won’t stay if you don’t want, but I’d love to help you with anything you need.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed, but it would be nice to have him here. If they didn’t touch too much.

“Okay. You can stay.”

Roman clapped his hands and Virgil plugged his ears. “Roman. Sensitive.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry.”

“Go up and get your sword. Patton and Logan, leave.”

They did as he asked, and about halfway up the tunnel Virgil called to Roman again.

“Get snacks for yourself.”

Virgil waited for Roman to get back before webbing up the entrance.

“Oof!” Roman said, smiling as he flopped onto the cushions, throwing a stack of snacks and his sword beside him.

Virgil smiled at him, at his adorable prince. “You wanna watch something cool?” He asked, going about midway up the tunnel.

“Sure.”

Virgil focused, shaking a little before gritting his teeth and letting out a soft whine. Roman flushed from his ears down to his collarbone. And then he watched.

The silk flowed from Virgil’s fingertips, he ran a path from one side to the other, and back. Over and over. Like he was painting. Back and forth, back and forth. Letting out gentle whines to show just how good it felt for him to let out some silk.

The entrance got sealed with fluffy cobwebs. Then, they were layered on thick. Coat after coat of webbing would stop anything from entering his burrow.

Roman watched with awe.

Virgil stopped, out of breath. “That… was good. Always feels good, but that… was good.”

He came back and collapsed onto a pile of pillows. Legs stretching out as far as they could go.

“How are you, my sweet spider?”

“Tired.” Virgil mumbled.

“Nap, my dear. Cuddles?”

He stiffened and shook his head. “No.”

Roman shrugged. “Alright. I’ve got your headphones and laptop to keep me occupied. You sleep.”

Virgil smiled into the soft pillows as he slowly lost consciousness.

Over the next week and a half, Roman left the burrow, slashing through the webs with his sword, but always ended up back quickly.

They watched shows, movies, played video games, and Virgil slept. They made love a couple times, and Virgil disassociated.

Sometimes, when Virgil really needed to be alone he would lay on his back, legs up and eyes closed, and any touch or talk would result in a hiss. Roman left after this usually.

Roman was relaxing after making love once, completely naked and enjoying the sweet sight of Virgil’s perky bubble butt as he searched for his clothes.

“Hey baby, you’ve got a new birthmark.”

Virgil barely paid attention except for a slight hum.

“It’s kinda big and like all over your ass.” He traced the dark brown mark in the air with his finger.

“Oh yeah. It’s like, a temporary spider thing. Their abdomen gets darker in colour before a moult.”

“It also gets bigger right? And firmer?”

“Huh? Uh…” Virgil paused and tired to think of a lie that worked.

“Don’t think I couldn’t tell babe. You’ve got a Kim Kardashian ass right now and I’m loving it.”

“You’ve still got sex on the brain. You better not be getting excited because you’re dealing with it yourself.”

“C’mon. Come cuddle.”

Virgil sighed. “Okay.” He fell down on the cushions, rolled over and hugged Roman tight around his middle. His spider legs inclosed them both in a cage, keeping the world out and them together. “Only for a bit though.”

Roman let out a tired exhale, settling himself in with his arms around Virgil.

This was nice. He thought. It was nice that Virgil trusted him enough to have him here while he’s so vulnerable.

Virgil shifted, settling in, and a sharp pungent scent reached his nose. He scrunched up his face and leaned in to find the source of the smell.

Oh. His boyfriend smelt like a high school boy’s gym room. “Ew. You smell like B.O.”

“Fuck off.”

“Have you brushed you teeth or had a shower in the last few days? Or even changed your clothes?” Roman asked, not bothering to hide his disgust.

“Not really.” He hummed, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tight, hard feeling of his skin. Roman absentmindedly played with his hair.

“Your hair is real greasy babe.” Roman remarked, wrinkling his nose.

Virgil let out a growl. “I’m not taking a shower. Not until I’m done moulting.” He said, deciding to end the conversation there.

“Can I at least wash your hair.” He didn’t answer, staring off into space. “Virgil? Virgil?”

“Sorry!” He shook his head, snapping himself out of his hazy daydream. “Spaced out again. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. But come on. You leaning up against the bathtub as I wash all the stress from your greasy, dirty hair?”

“Hmm. Maybe it would be nice.”

“It will be great! It’s what you need. A little break.” Roman really just wanted to get the tired, dirty funk off of him.

“Maybe it would be nice to have a full bath.” Maybe he could even fall asleep in the bath, he mused.

“Wonderful. It’s been a week since you started pre moult, you deserve it. And honestly, you reek so bad it’s reminding me of Remus.”

“Hey! That’s mean!” He pouted.

“I’ll run the bath for you my dear.”

Virgil sleepily got up and started stripping, even though he just put clothes on. If anyone should have clothes on it should be Roman, he thought, he’s not the one being bathed.

He let out a big yawn. God, this really zapped all his energy. Hadn’t he just taken a nap after they had a roll in the hay? And he didn’t even top, Jesus. If he had topped he might be passed out by now.

He stumbled into the weirdly human bathroom, straightening up to his full height. He yawned again and gazed at the bubble-filled tub Roman had prepared.

“Not yet, sleepy spider. Teeth first.”

Virgil froze at the thought of toothpaste. He hated, hated the smell of mint. It burned his nostrils and made him seethe with anger.

Roman chuckled and flipped open the toothpaste cap.

The scent permeated the room, or at least to Virgil it did. Explain! His mind screamed, but all he did was back away and let out a feral hiss, plugging his nose. He hated that smell.

“Oh right! Spiders don’t like peppermint. Or mint in general, I guess. I’m sorry my darling. Here. We have a tube of kiddy toothpaste. It’s bubblegum flavoured!”

Virgil hesitantly crept forward as Roman prepared his toothbrush.

“Brush your fangs, love.”

As Virgil scrubbed at his massive fangs and teeth, Roman admired the thick and crusty skin coating his back, stomach and legs. His ribs were showing after not eating for a week and a half, but he didn’t seem any worse for wear.

Roman helped Virgil into the bath, kneeling at his side as he settled himself.

Virgil sighed deeply and closed his eyes, the warmth of the bath seeping into his bones and establishing a home under his skin. He could hear Roman running something through the water beside him and he was startled slightly by the feeling of water running over his hair.

He opened his eyes to see Roman filling up a mug—one that he had clearly just summoned —with the bath water, before pouring it carefully over the back of Virgil’s head. Roman pushed his hand through his wet hair before cupping his cheek and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Virgil only had a moment to grumble about the touch before Roman whispered, “Shut your eyes, love. Let me worry about everything for now, alright?”

Virgil didn’t really think he could, not when everything was so painfully tense and every noise, smell, or movement gave him great stress. He did as Roman asked, however. It was hard to give up control—especially when he was as stressed as he was—but if there was one person Virgil trusted to take care of him, it was Roman.

The bath passed in a haze of warmth, soap suds, fingers scratching at his scalp and a washcloth running over his skin. Occasionally Roman would murmur something under his breath, but Virgil was too lost in complete exhaustion to really process any of it.

“Come on out, love. You’re all clean. I didn’t bother your moult too much, right?”

Virgil rolled his shoulders and shook his head, it felt fine.

“You can sleep now. Do you want clothes on?”

“Pants, no shirt.”

After Roman got him a pair of comfortable sweatpants, he changed and laid down on the pillows on his back again.

“Roman.” He mumbled, Roman’s ears perking up.

He didn’t wanna say he was sick of Roman’s company, or found him annoying, but he just wanted to be left alone. For a while.

Like for the rest of his moult.

Roman understood perfectly though, more than fine to leave his love to his own devices.

“And… can you like, clear out your shit? Please?”

“But won’t you be hungry after you’re done?”

“I’ll ask you to bring it down again. I just… I need to fully isolate for the next few days, until it’s over.”

“Alright, my storm cloud. I love you. G’night.”

And with a kiss on the forehead, Roman left.

The next four days were spent in lazy half-awake moments between dozing, or staring at the ceiling barely focusing. He no longer felt the need to do anything at all.

Except web. He made himself the softest, prettiest, most perfect web mat ever. Like a hammock of his own silk, it was the perfect bed.

He was lounging on his back when suddenly it hit him. He could get it off now. Might as well get it over with.

He made sure the entrance was sealed before flopping on his back.

His heart pounded as the hard skin down his stomach began to crack. His breathing came fast.

He pushed. And pushed. He arched his back up in an impossibly high curve. The skin, like a vest around his torso, broke at the arm holes, and it suddenly felt much looser.

A little more, Virgil, he told himself. He wiggled, spider legs squeezing in and shaking hard to free themselves of the moult.

“Ah!” He couldn’t stop the noise breaking through his clenched teeth. “Ah!”

His muscles burned as he clenched, trying to squeeze himself through a space much smaller than himself.

Fifteen agonizing minutes, fifteen minutes of shaking and tensing as his heart hammered in his chest, stressed and scared and trying.

Then he flipped, like popping the cap off a coke bottle, onto his stomach.

His tender, brand new stomach.

He scuttled away and up onto the wall of the burrow, looking at the moulted skin with disgust and anxiety.

His breathing relaxed as he realized he was done, finished for another six months.

He slowly, scared out of his mind at practically nothing, moved back down and set himself down on feather-soft pillows, letting his body rest.

He woke up the next morning and texted Roman.

You can come

You CANT touch me

Also I’m naked

Roman was down in a second. He was very quiet. Very gentle as he came down with a bag of barbecue flavoured crickets.

Yes, crickets.

“I know your stomach is probably really weak and you shouldn’t be having junk food but you love these things, and they feed the spider in you, so.” He shrugged and opened the package.

Virgil’s mouth started salivating. It had been two weeks without any food and his stomach was growling. He wanted to pour the entire bag down his throat but he knew that would be messy and probably painful. So he held out his hand.

“You want me to pour you some?”

He nodded, drooling.

“Alright.” He poured a handful of crickets into Virgil’s hand and watched as the spider popped them into his mouth one at a time.

“You look so pretty baby.” He remarked, eyes heavy lidded as he looked at Virgil. The new skin was extremely pale and looked as tender and soft as an overripe peach. He was slim and weak like a precious flower, Roman never wanted to protect anyone more than Virgil right now.

“No touches.” Virgil’s voice was horse. “I bruise way too easily.”

“How long with no touches, my love?” The soft plush skin was simply irresistible.

“A week.”

“Nooooo… a week with no cuddles? How will I survive?”

“Hey! I’m the one who needs to be extra careful I don’t hurt myself!”

“How sensitive are you, my love?” Roman said, wanting nothing more than to snuggle Virgil into infinity.

“Enough that clothes rub really uncomfortably. Wait! You’re ridiculously fancy all the time!”

“Yes.”

“Could you make me something silk? Something that won’t irritate my skin?”

“How about I line your hoodie with silk inside?”

“Pants too?”

“Sure. There. Get dressed, baby.”

“Oh that feels really nice. Thanks.”

“Let’s go get some real food in you, love.”

Roman looped a hand around Virgil’s waist and the spider leaned his head on his shoulder.

They two climbed out of the burrow, and Virgil was very, very glad he didn’t have to deal with that for another six months.

[the-mf-bread-babies]

1/8/20

VOLUME FOUR, PART TWO~!

WHO ELSE IS WRITING IT?! ROCCO NORTH, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER ONE

I CHANGED MY MIND HE DOESN'T GET KIDNAPPED lmao

After their work in protecting the house, the family went to bed. Well, except for Aaron, who watched Damon sleep just in case he died or anything.

The next morning, they woke up peacefully, to the sound of–

EXPLOOOSIIOOONNSSS!!!

Well, SHIT !!! Aaron, passed out from tiredness was still sleeping on the floor, though. “Aaron!! Wake the hell up, there's bombs!!” Damon shouted, repeatedly slapping Aaron's face. “Huh…?” Damon gave up and dragged his dad across the bedroom floor. “Hey, hey, I can walk, dude,” Aaron assured, slowly standing up.

A loud boom echoed throughout the house, alerting them even more. Although, it didn't seem like it came from an explosive, but rather, an impact. Their first thoughts were that NULL was using a battering ram on their front door.

The family assembled in the basement, equipped with weapons and protection. “So, what the hell's goin’ on now?” Gabriel asked. “Man, I thought you were gonna explain it or something.” Damon sighed as he looked at the others. “Dennis?” “I literally was friggin’ shaving when I heard the sounds?” he uselessly explained. “I was performing satanic rituals for the plants.” Lan confessed. “Okay, dad, but seriously, where are these guys?” Aaron grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

CRASH!

A hole formed in the stone basement ceiling as it came crashing down, sunlight shining into the area. A small woman whose grey hair covered her whole body to her knees swiftly emerged from the rubble, dusting herself off and hopping back outside.

“Who. Who was that.” Gabriel asked. “Do we have banshees here?” Lan added. “To my knowledge, the only ghosts related to Irish folklore in this house are the deer leg ladies and the lady who keeps using the washing machine to wash medieval armor.” Aaron explained. “Other than that, nada,”

The family halted their conversation as they heard the sound of multiple people screaming for their lives. “Okay, well, what's that?” Gabriel asked. “I– Dad, I don't even know where the rubble lady came from!” Aaron whined, the screaming still in the background.

ace: “die, bitches!”

“Yeah, pretty sure that's not NULL,” Lan pointed out. “Their agents get shot on sight after using foul language.” He revealed. “Really?” Damon asked, thinking about how bad of an agent he would be if he was recruited. “No, I just made that up.” Lan confessed, smirking. “Why…” Gabriel questioned, looking at him with a disappointed face. “Why not?”

nova: “OOH, A STUN GUN, OH NO!”

“HOWEVER WILL WE MAKE IT OUT ALIVE?!”

“HELP~!”

The four paused, noticing a third person in the fight. “Rude.” Damon commented at the girl's behavior.

sarah: “guys i accidentally fricked up the floor”

“do we have to pay insurance or whatever”

“also whats insurance”

ace: “it's a scam designed for you to die.”

Andre: “What Ace said. Also, pretty sure we don't have to do anything, since this place is a ghost town, anyways.”

jake: “mhm also theres probably horses or w/ever so watch out for that lol”

orc: “I SAW A PILE OF FROGS EARLIER”

j: “or that sometimes yknow”

The family peeked their heads out from inside, eavesdropping on the conversation.

o: “YEA BUT THE THING IS”

“I DONT KNOW HOW TO HOLD FROGS”

sar: “you have to like. gently carry those gentlemen around. palm at the side, fingers supporting their body and your thumb keeps them in place, orc, my friend,”

a: “ALSO SPRAY THE BITCHES!”

s: “yea spray them they like it it's fun n stuff”

andre: “Where. Where's the little froggies.”

j: “idk im scared”

a: “coward”

o: “ALSO SCARED OF FROGS”

“THEY ARE METAPHORICALLY CHILDREN”

s: “explain”

o: “SMALL AND CAN DIE EASILY ALSO WEIRDLY SLIMY AND SOFT”

andre: “Babies aren't slimy tho…”

o: “FLORIDA”

an: “oh ok”

“NULL doesn't usually talk about frogs.” Dennis pointed out. “They don't.” Damon agreed. “Also, they don't have members that tall. Or short.” Aaron commented. “Rebel gang?” Lan suggested. Gabriel squinted his eyes, staring at the group. “Last time I checked, undercover NULL agents, even if they exist, don't hide that kind of hair under their helmets. That kid next to the banshee there definitely does not have helmet hair, I mean, the volume and all…”

“hmm? i think those are peeeoopleeee” “guyss” The stylish hair kid pointed out. “cuz i dont think horses look like that!!!!!!!” they exclaimed, strutting towards the basement. “im scared” “help” “yall” “yall means all” they continued, facing their group. “Well, damn, Ace, if it's a horse, give it a carrot or something.” another voice said nonchalantly.

“meanie” “ill kill u” Ace threatened threateningly. “I CAN GO WITH YOU IF YOU WANT!!” A voice offered politely. “thanks nova!!!!!!! andre u can choke” Ace thanked, proceeding with Nova to the basement, the family anxiously awaiting them.

Ace had a normal, skinny, 5'7"-ish body, and they had a sharp jaw and small eyes. Their hair was brightly colored, with brown roots turning into an orange and then into a red, with yellow tips. They were wearing a gray vest above a loose black sleeveless shirt. Also jeans and shoes. Ace is not naked or something.

Nova, on the other hand, towered over Ace. She wore a trucker hat that pushed down her thick hair enough to cover her eyes, and it was tied into two big puffs. Her hair was dyed different shades of green in small spots, making it look like a small, bright shrub sitting on her head. She wore a denim jacket with lots of enamel pins stuck to it. Beneath that was a grey t-shirt, and below that were ripped jeans and UGG boots… somehow, in the amalgamated world.

“Hi! We're the Russell family!” Aaron welcomed, nearly giving them heart attacks by LOON∆ i should listem to that again. “What the fuck?!” Andre remarked, leading the rest into the basement. He was wearing a silky-looking black button-up shirt with a red tie with dress shoes, and his dreadlocks were neatly tied back. He certainly wore a fancy look for raiding NULL bases.

“Yeah, I'm Aaron, this is my dad Gabriel, my dad Lan, my husband Dennis, and my son, (no matter what,) Damon. We have 36 cats and countless ghosts here. Please proceed with caution, most of these babies are strictly indoors-only!”

The group stared at them in shock, unable to believe anything Aaron just said. “How… do you get… 36 cats…” Andre asked. “We used to have a pet shop. It fell down, though, so that's that.” Dennis answered casually. “like. how. like fell down into space” A blue-haired man asked, earning him Damon's full attention.

“Yeah, into space.” Gabriel said. “Just straight down.” Lan elaborated, “No stops or anything, just ZOOP!” “Yeah, that's why we moved into a haunted mansion.” Aaron added. “So, what group are you guys in?” he asked, making a head shoot up in surprise from one of them.

He had gelled blue hair parted in the middle, and his right eye seemed like it had something inserted in it. He wore a dark blue denim jacket with ripped off sleeves and very short, tight jorts. He also had black wristbands, indicating a past emo phase. Or one that's still ongoing, as made obvious by his combat boots.

“oh its kinda indie u guys. u guys probably dont know it :,(” The blue-haired man said sadly, pouting. “We're called the…” Andre began. “C'mon, Jakey, say it.” “no its dumb” he grumbled. “skullsmashers. it's because we smash people's skulls. metaphorically.” Ace explained, asking Jake for confirmation. “right, 8-ball?”

“we really dont......” Jakey/8-Ball said sadly. “Oh, you named us this, Jakey, honey,” Andre contested. “So why can't we smash people's skulls? Like, clearly, I can take the emotional trauma or whatever, as long as it's NULL, or hell, maybe even some dipshit, I can do that.” he added softly.

“Ah, pretty sure they're not NULL,” Lan said, smiling. “So, did you kill them all of them or what?” he asked as he raised his weapon, a mace he was somehow managing to hold with ease. Like. A mace with spikes. Ace nervously played with their hair, sporting a terrified face. “what!?” they exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. “We can definitely take care of them. How do you think this place is officially a ghost town?” Gabriel asked. “Setting up traps and making friends with the local ghosts go a long way, y'know,”

“There's fucking ghosts?!” Andre exclaimed, pulling out daggers from under his arms. “Yeah, but they're nice, so it's okay.” Damon explained with not a trace of fear in his eyes, making Andre slowly put the daggers back in. “Oh, by the way, if you guys see an arm there, could you get it for me?” he requested politely, “And honestly, I'd like to make a pun with lending hands, but I can't seem to put my finger on which one I'd make.” He added, raising his bandaged stump.

“Oh, Jake, don't–” Andre warned before Jake fainted instantly from seeing the bloody bandages on Damon's wound. “I'm sorry,” he apologized. The fainting had sent Aaron quickly went to the operating room, just now realising that he hasn't changed the bandages yet. “uh lemme go check if theres any” the small woman said, scuttling away. “Thanks,” Damon said before following Aaron.

Dennis, Lan, and Gabriel stood awkwardly in front of The Skullsmashers, not knowing what to do. “So, uh, whaddya do?” Dennis asked, folding his hands together. “gamign” Ace quickly responded. “Well, we each tend to go our own ways, but occasionally we team up to raid NULL bases and stuff.” Andre explained, ignoring Ace's statement. “What about you guys?”

“Ah, so I like gardening, and also do some baking from time to time, and Gabriel here used to be a traveling psychic, but now he tends to help me with errands and chores and sometimes we communicate with the ghosts here. Dennis and Aaron used to run a pet shop near here, but now Dennis does some farming, and Aaron spends his spare time caring for our pets.” Lan explained.

“And I do the groceries! And all the other stuff that involves going outside,” Damon intervened, coming back with an anxious, squeaky-clean Aaron. “Which is why my arm got cut off.” he revealed, sitting down on the wooden floor. “ok im back did i miss anything :'//” Jake asked, waking up from his faint earlier. “… we'll catch up later.” Andre replied.

“arm!!!” The banshee yelled out excitedly, waving a cooler back and forth. “Great! Just toss it down,” Aaron said happily, reaching his arms out. Seeing this, Damon ran to the operating room. “Last one's a rotten egg!” he shouted, snickering. “Well, while they work on that, do you guys maybe wanna come in and grab a snack?” Gabriel suggested politely, eager to learn more about the group. “yea sure!! thanks!!” said Jake, who was joyfully running to the front door.

A large figure stood patiently outside the door, belonging with the Skullsmashers. It seemed like a gentle giant, tapping its index fingers together. It was definitely from another world. It had greenish grey skin, and its head was blocky and looked like it was separate from his large jaw that had two moles on it. Its eyes were big and white, and above them were thick eyebrows. And it was wearing what seemed to be a large, furry, ruff reaching his knees that were covered by jorts. Its shoulders were completely covered with a large spiky red boulder on each one. The creature was ten feet tall, and was very strong.

At last, the large doors opened with a creak, the sunlight from outside shining brightly into the house. It was the first time in years that the front doors were opened, and it was for good; they had stayed in there for too long.

CHAPTER TWO

A PROPER INTRODUCTION

The family and the group were sitting in the dining hall, awaiting the arrival of Aaron and Damon. A shit ton of homemade potato chips were strewn across a long plate in the middle as the main course. Lan had prepared a variety of dipping sauces and some napkins. They sat in silence.

“I don't mean to be rude or anything, but how… are you guys still alive?” Andre asked cautiously, starting a conversation. Gabriel dipped a chip in cheese sauce, then thought of a simple answer: “We really just hide and plant stuff. Also, we were really lucky.”

Nova played around with a fork, debating whether these people were real or not. Yes, NULL couldn't possibly use their precious budget to make intricately designed haunted houses with personal touches and residents whose personalities were very unique, as well as their relationship with each other, but, hell, maybe they can.

NULL always had a way to worm themselves everywhere, down to the place she stayed in, the people she knows, and, well, really, everywhere. Even if this family was what they presented themselves as, NULL could do lots of things to not only dishevel Nova and the group she was in, as well as this family, they can manipulate both of them to destroy each other. After all, that's the kind of thing they do– get someone else to do their dirty work.

Nova made up her mind, opting to ask them directly. “I also really don't mean to be rude, but given the large amount of undercover NULL agents and all the different ways they come as, I just have to ask… and this is a very dumb, and useless question, but are you guys in any way… involved with NULL?”

Dennis smiled lightly, understanding that this group was in the same deliberation as they were. “To be honest, we were gonna ask you that too at some point, but I personally don't think NULL agents would look this…” “well, they wouldn't, like… have wrists this limp.”

The room was silent for a while, before erupting with laughter. “You– you fuckin’ thought we weren't NULL because–” Andre struggled, wheezing. “No NULL agent would dress like that, Andre,” Gabriel pointed out, snickering. “Yeah, you think those idiots can achieve this level of interior design?!” Lan added, gesturing wildly towards every piece of furniture in the hall.

“… But really, to answer your question there, yeah, we are technically involved with NULL,” Dennis said, completely changing the atmosphere of the room. “We're classified as Class-4 criminals for, um, giving some of their agents here some mild inconveniences.” he added in a serious tone. “And by mild inconveniences, I mean a few cases of attempted murders, robberies, hauntings, and other stuff like that.” The group sighed a breath of relief, knowing they were both on the same page.

“I have to say, 45 cases of attempted murder and two cases of successful murder does sort of count as a bit more than a mild inconvenience, though, Dennis,” Lan said jokingly. “Oh, and remember when someone planted poison ivy that somehow mysteriously completely wrapped around the whole base they had here, down to the basement?” he added, grinning. “Okay, well let's not compare our crimes here, dad,” Dennis teased. “Everybody knows mine was the best attack yet when I trapped them inside the base by encasing it with raw eggs! somehow” he added, cackling.

The two families had a great time together, laughing and talking about their experiences in the new lives they lived caused by the amalgamation. Meanwhile, Aaron was carefully reattaching an arm to an unconscious Damon. After some hard work, he succeeded, and did his best to celebrate in the operating room.

However, at this point, he became too tired to do so, considering the fact that he alone performed an entire surgery. Still, it was a miracle for both of them. He waited for Damon to wake up and see the finished product, but he ended up passing out while making a celebratory coffee.

The two slept well and endlessly. The rest of the family, however, were faced with a tough decision to make. Dennis, Gabriel, and Lan had the same question echo in their minds:

“Would you like to consider joining us, The Skullsmashers?”

It was a question Andre always asked to those who he saw potential in, no matter who– or whom, no idea. They could be two friends living in a dilapidated house with rats and mice, or three odd creatures in a grocery store, or even some nervous teenager who suddenly asked him to kill someone in the middle of his New Year's Eve party.

It's not that he simply sees something out of the ordinary happen and immediately hands out flyers, but it's that Andre has been gifted with an eye for this type of thing– take, for example, the situation at hand.

Andre raids a NULL base with his friends. The fight continues into the abandoned city the base was in. His friend lands into a basement of a house. Sarah, the friend, points out that there are people living in said house. Said people are clearly weird.

Resident asks for his arm back. Very weird. Still little to no potential, except maybe for interior design. Residents invite them for dinner. Residents have knives and shit.

Potential spotted. nah jk lemme do this again lol

[TAKE TWO]

Okay, okay. Andre doesn't just see people doing weird shit and immediately hires them, contract and all, but instead he observes them further.

If he sees someone hurling flaming batons into the sky, that person does have potential, yes, definitely, but what kind? This style of combat could definitely be a possibility in their attacks, given the practicality and the ostentatiousness of it.

However, it's an art one could hardly practice. The perils one could face are far too much for such a display. But, even though it's inconvenient, it's still very useful. If there was a good amount of accelerant on the baton, an enemy could not only receive a strong blow, but the added accelerant will most likely set them on fire too, rendering them not only useless in further combat (unless they're a very determined individual) but also a potential threat to anyone near them.

And the fact that a person is employed as the weapon is more convenient than, say, a large flaming baton-throwing machine, which would be difficult to program and to bring to an attack.

However, Andre also has to consider the person (itself? themselves? idk man) in an approach. Maybe they're NULL, or maybe even just someone who wants to throw flaming stuff into the air with no deeper meaning or intent. Maybe this person is unsuitable for combat; maybe this person is an enemy or a rival.

The approach is like a job interview– ask them about their experience in the field, if they have any other [good points?? is good points the word], if they're okay with joining the group– but sadly, he lives in a world where anything wildly good or wildly bad can happen, and it makes the whole process a whole lot more harder.

So, maybe these people inviting them over for a meal might give them a new addition or two. Or, sadly, remove some members.

Will the Russell family join The Skullsmashers? The decision has to be made any second now.

• end •