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soap-ify · 10 months ago

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AIM AT MY HEART | eros!john 'soap' mactavish x f!reader.

synopsis — while everyone celebrated love, you met a god. [3.5k words]

tw / cw — mdni 18+, lonely!reader, reader is bit of a loser actually, typical misogyny and objectification of women during that time (just briefly mentioned), spoiler alert soap is eros and is bit of a freak, little breast play, reader is said to be a virgin, cunnilingus, p in v. — please let me know if i missed any tags!

notes — after some research and finding like few different names for love festivals in ancient greece, i decided to stick with calling it the festival of love. this isn't going to be historically accurate or anything, just a silly idea i came up with for valentines. unedited.

It looked like the rain was your date for this festival, the cold droplets gently kissing your skin just the way a lover would.

Every street was simply bustling with people today, all trapped in their own little bubbles forged by them. Married couples and young people in love alike. Now was the perfect time to say that love was in the air. It didn’t disgust you by any means, no. You love love — you wonder if it’s just as dreamy as it sounds. To have someone to call yours, to be touched and to be heard. A feeling that your heart pleaded for, ready to pathetically beg for it even. You don’t see much of it on the streets though, so you wonder if it’s naught but a myth.

Loneliness can mess up with anyone. You were still unwed, always met with the disappointed stares of your mother and the unnerving promises of your father stating that he’d find a groom for you. Probably some old man.

So no, you weren’t disgusted by all the couples roaming around in this festival of love. Just envious, sad — even if some of the love they displayed might just be for the show. On top of that, no one was aware of the incoming rain. Though most were now sheltered somewhere or protected by clothed umbrellas, though meant for the rich. So here you were, strolling in these soaked streets uncovered. Hey, at least the rain was willing to give you some company.

Some people looked at you with a pitiful gaze through the distance. Most men walking in groups whistled at you, staring at you with the most vile eyes. Carnivores. All you could do was just sheepishly stare ahead, doing your best to not look down at the ground while walking and looking like some kicked-out puppy. Even though you definitely did feel like one right now. Fresh food for the predators in the open.

Love. Such a familiarly foreign request. What must you do to get it, pray to the gods? Would Aphrodite listen, or Eros? Why hadn’t they blessed you yet? Taking a turn into the alley, you made the mistake of getting distracted by some plants nearby, instantly bumping into someone. “Oh, sorry, I-” Warm hands steadied your almost falling body, interrupting your apologies. You looked up to see blue eyes staring at you, the scrutiny of the stare making you feel as if he was opening you up like a book and reading everything within.

“Dinnae apologise, hen.” He let you go with a soft chuckle, an understanding smile lacing his lips. The slight amusement in his rough voice was enough to make your heart squeeze unintentionally, your throat going dry as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Okay.” You dumbly replied and walked past him, not giving any of you a chance to make the conversation progress. How impolite. After all, what were you supposed to say to him? That you’re lonely as fuck and that his voice made you feel all funny inside? You mustn’t lust over a stranger. Probably married.

But oh, those blue eyes were now ingrained in your brain. He had looked at you as if he knew you, as if he knew of each of your flaws.

You missed the way he kept looking at your back while you walked away.

Sleep came to you a bit too easily. It was quite the odd occurrence, considering that you’d always be tossing and turning while staring at the ceiling creepily for a good half hour until you’d fall asleep.

A warm hug to your pillow and you were knocked out within seconds, drowning into slumber.

Darkness. That’s all you could see, that’s all what was within reach. You didn’t know if you were dreaming or not. What you did know was that you felt as if you were floating, higher and higher. Wait, were you dead?

You were just about to reach out to the blankness surrounding you when you felt strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you in. When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in your… bedroom? Bedroom for sure, just more dreamy. As if it wasn’t you who lived here. As if it were the room of the gods. The air seemed lighter, the colours more bright.

You tried to struggle against the strong grip on your waist, your back pressed against something strong. “Quit struggling, hen.” The growl behind you caught you off guard, causing you to go still. That voice. That voice. You remember it all too well, the guy you bumped into in the street earlier.

Once his grip on you loosened, you quickly turned around and faced him, finding him looking at you triumphantly, his body adorned in nothing but a white shawl that covered only one shoulder and his waist. His body was sculpted beautifully, muscles made to be caressed delicately. Perfection, that’s what he was. You caught a small glimpse of the wings on his back — mighty and fluffy. You nervously cowered, mind too overwhelmed to comprehend what was going on here. You were being touched by a stranger. Only tales by some women had warned you about the perverse nature of most men. It terrified you.

Your eyes darted over to the loose blindfold lowered down to his neck, and the set of bow and arrows laid down on your nightstand.

You didn’t know why you were so afraid to look into his eyes. It was as if looking into the eyes of god and being forced to acknowledge all your sins. Was he a god? Or an angel? He reeked of purity, of utter diviness that you couldn’t even dream to look at. Though here you were, being looked at by someone that just seemed so seraphic. It almost made you feel guilty.

“Who are you?” You blurted out, unable to hide the way your hands were trembling. You were forced to look up when you felt something cold gliding against your jaw, soon realising that it was one of his arrows, mapping out your face. Just the way an artist would with his muse.

He was silent for a while, simply observing you. Or maybe just thinking of what to answer you with. What should he tell you? “Ye can call me Johnny.” He finally settled on a name after some contemplation that thankfully went unnoticed by you.

“Johnny…” You tested his name carefully, your hands carefully reaching out to grasp onto his arms, not even realising that you were somehow sitting on your bed now. ”What are you, Johnny?”

“A god.”

And there it was again, that victorious grin. He was proud of the reaction he was getting out of you, the utter confusion and bewilderment etched on your face was nothing short of adorable to him. Poor, poor human.

“Ye looked lonely tonight.” He continued, leaning in closer, his presence seeming even bigger and more imposing than before. “Ye seemed sad. Like a wee lost chick. Made me feel somethin’, ye ken. Sadness f’ye, maybe?” He chuckled and shook his head, gently undoing the blindfold on him. His hands were soft yet rugged, holding yours with great care, gently tying the white silk around your wrists. Not too tightly, just firmly enough.

“Oh…” You weren’t sure why you weren’t struggling against the bindings. Maybe it was due to the fact that your brain had slowly comprehended who he really was. Arrows, playful, love. Eros. You didn’t know what to do, and you definitely didn’t know why you liked it. Gods above, you must be going insane. Wait, he’s a god too. Can he hear your thoughts?

“Yes I can.” He interrupted the raging storm of thoughts in your head with amused nonchalance. You could feel embarrassed heat creeping up on your cheeks, daring you to humiliate yourself further.

“Why is a bonnie lass like ye unwed?” The god cooed, his free hand still holding the arrow and gently tracing your jaw, moving down to the front of your neck, and downward to the neckline of your dress. He didn’t dare to stop there, moving the sharp point of the arrow towards your left breast, grazing against the soft fabric of your clothes. Shove it in, make me find love.

“U-Um…” Your words were caught in your throat, fingernails unknowingly digging hardly into his muscular arms. “I don’t know.” Despite how doltish that answer may have made you look, it was the truth. You didn’t know why you were some lonely maiden staring at the night sky every night, dreaming about the undying devotion you couldn’t reach for.

Johnny didn’t respond to that, satisfied enough to just stare at you. You soon realised that you didn’t feel creeped out by his gaze, you yearned for it. Attention for a god. Even if he viewed you as a lamb of some sorts, temporary affection was making you feel alive.

“I’m not gonna sacrifice ye or anythin’, hen.” He read your mind again, and he was enjoying it way too much. It made you feel a bit frustrated, a bit too desperate.

“Why am I unwed?” You shooted his question back at him, daring to meet his eyes. “My mother hates me and my father, he… Just why can’t I be one of the blessed?” You unintentionally hissed, met with nothing but a mirthful grin plastered on his lips. Would it be a sin to think of a god as some bastard?

“Ain’tcha clever for shootin’ my question right back at me?” He sounded almost proud at you, slowly putting the arrow down and easing you down to lay on your bed properly, putting your tied wrists above your head. You were being so easy for him too, despite the irritation adorning your face. Your body had been starved for this, for some touch.

You didn’t make any effort to stop him as his fingers skillfully undid your garments and teasingly began sliding them off, revealing more and more of you until you were all naked in front of him. A meal for the god. You weren’t worried about being touched like this, especially when you were still not taken. The cool air hitting your skin made your shiver, your legs rubbing against one another.

“I have never been… used before.” You didn’t know how to word it. Well, he probably knew anyway. That’s what was expected from a modest woman. Being innocent and a virgin until she was on her marital bed with her groom.

“Stop thinkin’ so much, hen.” He silenced you by pressing a chaste kiss on your neck, your lips letting out an involuntary whine. Heaven touched you from his lips, and you felt love for the first time.

“Poor ye, so desperate for affection.” You felt his stubble tickle your cheek as he whispered into your ear, the sensation making your body jerk slightly, your wrists lightly tugging against the silk binding. You felt so sensitive, being aware of everything going on while simultaneously being confused by this foreign feeling building up inside you.

“Don’t tease me…” You whimpered almost pathetically, wishing that your hands were free so you could run your fingers through his untamed patch of hair, or just caressed the slightly shaved sides of his head. “It’s not funny.”

“If ye say so.” He snickered, pressing kisses on your cheeks and the side of your neck, making you whine a bit at the ticklish feeling, blood rushing to your face as you squirmed under him. His large hands slowly begin to caress your torso up and down, fingers rubbing against the softness of your softness before sliding up to cup and size your breasts up, thumbs carefully touching your hardened up nipples.

Despite the way he clearly enjoyed teasing you, he handled you with an equal amount of gentleness. It was so considerate, something you hadn’t heard from the tales some of the women would tell you about men.

“How does it feel?” He asked you, his gaze almost warm.

“Good…” You replied weakly, unable to find your voice amidst all the emotions you were feeling. You leaned into his touch, eyes lazily half open, trying to admire his face properly. It felt like a crime to look at such beauty.

He leaned down and started pressing soft kisses along the valley of your breasts, feeling the rise and fall of your chest with every breath you took. Why must he kiss your body as if he was worshiping you? As if you were the god, not him.

His lips traveled down to your naval before finally reaching to between your thighs, his hands moving down to gently part your legs open, feeling them tremble slightly once his eyes settled upon your sweet cunt, already glistening with arousal. "Can I?" He asked, earning a shy nod from you.

"Yes..."

“M’happy my arrows never hit ye before.” He mumbled before pressing a soft kiss against your puffy folds, hearing the way your breath hitched. “Happy that nae one got to touch a bonnie thing like ye yet. All saved for a god, eh?” He sneered, his fingers gently parting your folds so he could properly look at your clit, pressing a kiss right on it.

The sudden sensation made you let out a soft moan, fingers trying to reach for the silk binding on your wrists. Sensitive. Sensitive yet so good. “Johnny…”

His breath alone continued to fan your cunt for a few seconds, his blue eyes looked up at you from in between your thighs before he dived in, his tongue licking a fat stripe. Your hips bucked at that, seeking more of this friction as he hummed at your taste, his tongue making contact with your clit and pressing against it, feeling the soft pulse underneath.

He had to stop himself from biting you, that’d scare you away. Maybe some other day. For now, his hands gripped your plush thighs firmly and kept them apart, feasting onto your cunt hungrily, drool sliding down his chin as he sucked and licked on your twitching clit, feeling it get swollen and all achy with need. You just tasted so good, better than all the things many worshippers would leave at the temple. He wondered if you’d be willing to be his forever, to let him taste you everyday.

It all felt so good and overwhelming, you could feel your eyes tearing up. He went on and on until you felt your orgasm crashing into you suddenly, a bit prolonged as he kept his mouth latched onto your cunt, feeling your hips buck needily, shaky mewls leaving your lips while he eagerly lapped up your release.

You collapsed back breathless, almost in daze, every inch of your skin tingling with the pleasure coursing within you. Your glossy eyes looked over at Johnny who had just finished lapping your cunt up, now proceeding to nip and suckle onto the plush of your thighs, making you writhe. “Next time, m’gonna make ye squirt all over my fingers.”

Next time? Fingers?

Hope bloomed in your otherwise desperate heart as you nodded hazily, soft pants leaving your lips after your orgasm subsided. You felt him climbing on top of you, the soft rustling of clothes making your fingers twitch, your eyes looking over at him through the semi blurry vision. The white piece of cloth he had been wearing slipped off him, falling down to reveal the entirety of him. Big, powerful. He was indeed a god, sculpted better than the statues. You didn’t want to imagine what he could do with all his strength.

Your eyes fell onto his left pec, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart twinge oddly. If you were to stab him with his own arrow, would he love you?

You did your best to not look in between his legs, somehow clinging to the thinning string of modesty.

“Ye’re makin’ me feel unattractive.” That cheeky pout on his lips made you huff softly, your face feeling too warm. Just when you were about to protest, he leaned down to press his lips against yours, silencing you with a kiss.

You felt as if you had sinned, while stepping close to Heaven at the same time.

You let him guide you, his lips parting against yours while you obediently followed him, finding yourself drowning into this kiss. He might as well swallow you whole now, you’d be happy.

One hand reached up to swiftly undo the silk cloth around your wrists, freeing you. You were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for your dear life, feeling him trying not to chuckle against your lips.

“Look at ye, being so eager. S’cute.” He whispered once he broke the kiss, pressing down into you, making you feel his cock rubbing against your thighs. It felt big, ridiculously enough. You trembled anxiously, finally daring to look down, letting out a soft whimper when your eyes settled onto his cock. You both tried to grind against it and squirm away, your brain melted into nothing but a puddle.

Love — it was threatening to flow out of your chest. Pure, blissful. Your legs lazily hooked themselves around his moving hips, trying to pull him down for another kiss. He was quick to comply, feeling you moan needily into his mouth while he grabbed the base of his girthy cock, lining it perfectly in between your legs. “Fuck… Lemme just-” He knew he had to be extra gentle, he was huge. He carefully eased the the tip of his cock into your cunt, watching you pull away from the kisd and whimper, your warm walls greeding clenching around him, trying to suck him in.

“S’too much!” You whined and bit down onto his shoulder, not caring how hard you might be biting. Your fingernails dug into the firm muscle of his back.

“Ssh, ye can take it.” He hissed under his breath, pulling his face back so he could look down at you properly, one hand gripping the side of your hip while his other reached down to gently fondle your clit in between his fingers. The sudden jolt of pain and pleasure merging together made your eyes roll back, feeling him settle deep within your cunt, some of his cock still not fully in. He wouldn’t dare to anyways, he would never wish to hurt his precious human.

“Such a bonnie lass… Look at how I fit inside ye.” You just looked so perfect underneath him, as if you were made for him, to be filled by him and kissed by him. “Squeezin’ me so tightly, s’too big f’ye, eh?” You shook your head at that, as if you weren’t the one who was moaning about him being too big earlier.

He slowly begin thrusting into you, his heavy cock dragging against the sweet spongy spot inside you, stimulating it. You bit onto your bottom lip, muffled mewls leaving you while his fingers continued to steadily rub your swollen clit, not losing their rhythm. Not even a single halt — the continuous motions caused pressure to build up within you, your legs tightening around his hips.

He eyes moved down to where your body connected with his, aweing at the way his cock was stretching you nice and wide, making him twitch inside you. Fuck. He couldn’t have a mortal holding such an effect over him, but he was far too gone to even think about that anymore.

“Johnny-! Joh-” Your words drowned into your moans once you felt your orgasm hit you even harder than before, your body convulsing underneath him as you clenched hard around him, causing him to grunt. A pretty white ring formed on his base as he continued to thrust into you, The squelching sounds filling the room were obscene, and served nothing but to arouse him more. His grip on your hips tightened just slightly as he felt his own impending orgasm.

“Gonna fill ye up.” He gritted his teeth.

With one final thrust, he released his hot cum inside you, his thrusts not stopping, fully intending to make his cum stay inside you and not drip out. Your fingernails accidentally scratched onto his back at the sensation of being filled up, feeling all warm.

Your legs and arms loosened around him, feeling yourself slump into the soft mattress, all pliable and fuzzy. You panted softly, feeling all sweaty as you stared at him. His hands were quick to craddle your face, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“I might as well just keep ye now for myself, hen.”

You woke up with a jolt, sitting upright on your bed, your breathing laboured. Your inner thighs felt sticky, and your eyes drifted over to your nightstand, catching an arrow alongside a rose laying there.

Would it be possible to be impregnated by a god?

#reader try not to be a hopeless romantic challenge : failed #we love to see it #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #rurufic

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smehur · 1 month ago

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Drarry fic recs #6

[podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry written by @lettersbyelise and read by @timothysboxers

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

A delightful fic and a phenomenal reading! There are few things I love more than ex-rivals Harry and Draco discovering they actually enjoy each other's company, especially when it's done with such humor. The game of kill, fuck, marry was hilarious, and so was the dancing. And Draco's final birthday wish, well. 🔥 A phrase seen in many stories but rarely delivered with quite that much cheek. I'm all smiles and biting lips just thinking about it. 10/10 would read/listen again.

ready, able by @garagepaperback

“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Harry keeps every muscle on his face particularly still, hoping it looks to Malfoy as absolutely blank as it feels to him. Half a minute passes. “No,” Malfoy, already doing a poor job of sitting normally on his chair, bends in half, nearly falling out of it. He’s laughing. “No, Potter, no. No- don’t- you’re twenty-five years old!” “And?” Harry asks, heat staining his face. - Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.

Apart from being captivating, tantalizing and touching, this story is also an interesting (and, for this reader, unique) take on the fuck-or-die trope, which I'll generally read "for fun" but will only take "seriously" if it's somehow challenged and reshaped till choice reasserts itself. Like in this fic! Which, on top of everything, (spoiler alert!) ends with one of the hottest sex scenes in my HP reading so far. Truly exquisite. 👌

Savage by @marguerite26

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Another instance where excellent fic managed to sell me a trope I'm not a fan of: werewolves! It's a phenomenal story, with an interesting, political plot, excellent pacing, flawless characterization and steaming hot sex. What more could one hope for?

Virtuous by @heyjude19-writing

Draco is only sin inverted.

I loved this short piece down to the last word. It's so multifaceted! At face value, it's a confession of an unredeemed Draco, but is he? Is he really? Or did "fake it till you make it" work a little better than he expected? I'm fascinated by this because it touches on the question of whether a person can really change, which is, obviously, central to Drarry. Does a selfish motivation behind an act of kindness make the act less kind? I don't know the answers. But I do so enjoy fic that asks the questions!

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

This story is very old and predates the canon ending of the series (thus missing out on a lot of canon Drarry content that would've made it even better). It's also a bit old-fashioned, compared to the fic I mostly read these days, and it triggered some of my technical pet peeves. Yet it hooked me within the first few paragraphs, and I grew to love it with a slow-burn passion. Draco's sudden disability is depicted in a very straight-forward, matter-of-fact, incredibly effective yet sensitive way; and his manner of coping with it is perfectly in character. Meanwhile, Harry is blind in his own way, which helps build the tension but never crosses the line of being too contrived. I had so many feels reading this. It's just beautiful, warts and all.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to the authors of these, and all other lovely stories shared within this amazing fandom, and to the readers helping spread the word. 🥰

#harry/draco #drarry #rec list #fic rec #harry potter #my post

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stepmarchen · 6 months ago

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Animal Motifs in A Stepmother's Marchen

I'll be breaking down the (main) characters and their respective animal motifs in A Stepmother's Marchen. Potential spoilers ahead.

Shuri: Rabbit

Animal Characteristics: Gentle, Kind, Swift, Alert, Patient

Visual Symbolism: Split hair = bunny ears, large round eyes

Story Motif: Shuri is literally a prey animal caught in a world of predator animals, including her children. While her nature is gentle, she doesn't hesitate to fight against injustices done to her or her family. While headstrong, Shuri often requires help from her stronger (physically and politically) allies to help her overcome or escape various conflict.

More Below

Nora: Wolf

Animal Characteristics: Adaptable, Brave, Loyal, Wildness, Intuitive

Visual Symbolism: Dark hair, blue eyes, often seen wearing informal (messy) clothes, Nuremberg Crest = Wolves

Story Motif: Nora is a lone wolf amongst the Nuremberg Family and prefers lurking in the shadows. While he seen as wild and brooding to those he dislikes, he is loyal and eager to please to those in his favor. He is quick to adapt to social situations and observes his opponents from afar before striking.

Jeremy: Lion

Animal Characteristics: Confident, Aggressive, Direct, Stubborn

Visual Symbolism: Golden hair, Feral grin, Neuschwanstein Crest = Lions

Story Motif: Jeremy has shown himself to be self-confident and aggressive, choosing to use his fists over mental tactics to get his way. He is fiercely protective towards his family and is a natural leader among his peers.

Theo: Eagle

Animal Characteristics: Tenacious, Authoritative, Egocentric, Leader

Visual Symbolism: White hair, golden (single exposed "eagle") eye, Baden Bismark Crest = Eagles

Story Motif: While Theo is distinctly selfish and possessive, he puts forward a facade of humility that is expected of a future leader. He is guilty of using underhanded methods to get what he wants, even at the expense of his subject of desire (Shuri).

Richelieu: Raven

Animal Characteristics: Prophetic, Transformation, Intelligent, Cunning, Partnership, Guidance

Visual Symbolism: Black hair, eye bags, long black robes

Story Motif: Cardinal Richelieu has once experienced "rebirth" and follows a deep devotion towards God. He works at the hand of nobody but often gives mysterious words of (sometimes manipulative) advice to others. He has expressed an interest in partnering with Shuri in recent chapters.

Ludovika: Swallow tailed kite

Animal Characteristics: Divinity, Freedom, Awakening, Playful, Transformation

Visual Symbolism: Split hair = split tail

Story Motif: Ludovika was initially a commoner turned Empress, with a bright personality and desire for power. Johannes has expressed a desire to cage her, but since her death, she has flown beyond his grasp.

Bonus: Alberon as a fox(?) and Everette as a chipmunk

#a stepmother's marchen #the fantasie of a stepmother #shuli von neuschwanstein #jeremy von neuschwanstein #nora von nuremberg #cardinal richelieu #theobold von baden bismarck #ludovika von bismarck #stepyapping

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osiiiris · 5 months ago

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I’m slowly trying to get back on track with the big boss plans, so here are some ramblings about the future Papa and reasons why my theory is that we’ll have a cat-Papa (spoiler alert):

Apparently, Copia has a twin, and we can see that one has dark hair and the other has blonde hair. Copia's hair is more light brown-ginger, so he might have been blonde in his childhood (it is possible: I was platinum blonde as a child and now I’m light brown). Do we expect a black-haired Copia 2, then? And what if the black-haired twin is Terz-

What could the twin's name be? Incolla (Copia + Incolla = Copy + Paste)? Ricopia? Carbone (Copia Carbone means a perfect copy of something).

I hope they are different, or at least have different characteristics and completely different personalities. They could even be heterozygous. (Most likely, he would be a pre-surgery Copia… or maybe he had a different surgery, so he’s different anyway).

I’d love the new Papa to be a perfect opposite of Copia: evil, full of himself, confident, power-driven. It would be interesting to have a Yin Yang dynamic. I’d love to have a darker era, with the comeback of the religious themes and looks, in music and atmosphere (in the flashbacks there were some scenes from the old eras and an eclypse) but I’d be surprised if it happened, given the family-friendly direction the project has taken.

Bu yet… we have more than one reference to the Roman history (the coin with Copia’s bloody face and the Roman she wolf breastfeeding Romolo and Remo) so not all hopes are lost.

The cat-Papa theory:

There was really no need to have a cat tree so visible in the backstage background when we know Copia is the rat-Papa. And the Cats-like jump in Dance Macabre… what if the new Papa debuts with a song called “Cats”? And he tries to dominate Copia like a cat would with a rat?

This leads me to a very self-indulgent wish:

Since Ghost albums are thematic, I’ve always loved the idea of a predators-themed album. Think about the puns: Preda-tour (eheh), and among predators, cats are the most destructive…

It’s good to dream.

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghovie spoilers #rite here rite now #rite here rite now spoilers #ghost theories

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isa-ghost · 14 days ago

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(BTW I'm very down with wanting sapnap being dead for being sapnap I just wanted to be sure I was hip qirh the kids and pissed for the Correct reason)

DLSKFLSJFSKF SORRY I WAS OUT TOUCHING GRASS WHEN YOU SENT ME YOUR FIRST ANON.

Also in hindsight I worded this answer like you have 0 clue who Shartnap is but I'm gonna keep it that way for anyone who sees this and Doesn't Go Here At All.

Here's a good overview post abt Crapnap from my friend.

This Specific Instance we're wishing death upon him more than the default amount because he's participating in Squidcraft, a Latino-made/hosted and primarily Latino-played Minecraft competition with a big cash prize. (Aka that irrelevant ass sweaty ass racist Texan is literally only playing to win more money he doesn't need. He also won last year's SC 🙄). Last year there were a few non-Latino players (like him), but this year there were a BUNCH, most likely thanks to the existence of QSMP. There were Americans, Brits, and French just to name a few!

My mutual @pixiecaps has been the most outspoken on my dash about the dumbshit being in Squidcraft, so I'll tag them here and they can add any additional context they see fit in the reblogs or replies. They might have insight or perspective that I don't bc they're Latino and I'm not. 👍🏻 And this was baby's first Squidcraft for me purely bc QSMP members were in it, so idk much abt previous ones whereas Pix might.

It's annoying enough that Crapnap is in the competition at all, but yesterday a bunch of other previous DSMP members (Philza, Tubbo, Foolish, to name a few) all died in one of the games together and were thus eliminated. Shatnap's petty nobody poopy ass was literally CHEERING when they all died, which is poor sportsmanship for one (he has none tho let's be real here), and two: No Toxicity is one of the competition rules. So by all means, he should be investigated by the Squidcraft mods and (hopefully) disqualified for his bullshit.

And some additional context bc my guess is this all plays into why he was so outwardly toxic like that: Tubbo has outspokenly hated the Dr*m Team for a while now. He also had direct beef with Shatnap bc the dumbfuck tried migrating to Kick (basically Twitch for bigots & predators, to say the least).

AND, most relevant and recent: Philza was just on Tommy and Jack Manifold's podcast Shut Up I'm Talking about a week ago, and on the Patreon version of the episode the three of them talked about how Dr*m is a piece of shit, they all hate him, and how nasty and weird he was behind the scenes during DSMP, especially to Tommy.

Dr*m Team 100% knows this was all said, bc a) some of it was clipped ofc and b) Dr*m fucking posted the DSMP world download as damage control after people started talking abt what was said on the episode bc god forbid he look bad and get negative attention for 2 seconds. He's been begged by numerous people for LITERALLY LIKE 3 YEARS to drop the world download and only JUST did it to do damage control and make himself look all good and innocent or At Least distract people (spoiler alert: didn't work, he just made himself look even more pathetic. He basically gave the people who correctly hate him a gift in addition to clowning on him).

Shartnap literally lives with Dr*m, so there's no way he doesn't know Tommy, Jack & Phil have spoken some of the truth TECHNICALLY PRIVATELY. IT WAS ON PATREON BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Soooo yeah. As usual, Dr*m Team fucking sucks ass (many such cases, no one is surprised). Crapnap is the ""last remaining"" of the Dr*m Team to not have some Extreme horrific controversy and that's what keeping him able to be in competitions like this, rather than isolated to a shitty corner with the other two dumbfucks. (CLARIFICATION: He DOES have controversies. You can assume what some of them are based off of things said in that post I linked. Plus the Kick thing. But in comparison to Dr*m [a groomer, among other things], and George [sexual predator, among other things], Shatnap is ""the least awful"" of them, which is almost definitely why he's still ""welcome"" in competitions like this one).

Additional silly context: I'm calling him variations of shit because he openly admitted sometime earlier this year that he shit himself (or at least sharted) on stream.

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astralfandoms · 2 days ago

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Yes, I am making all four of them cousins you cannot STOP ME

Anyway Predator Hawk, Bean the Dynamite, Jet the Hawk, and Speedy are all cousins in the 9 Years universe, and there is lore involving like. Why their grandfather is like that I'm not gonna get into most of it here.

All you need to know is that in an attempt to "correct" their bad behavior, their grandfather decided to homeschool Jet and send Predator Hawk (also known as Cirrus), Bean (also known as Zephyr), and Speedy (also known as Slipstream) all to (separate) private schools.

SPOILER ALERT: it did NOT work at ALL and if anything made all of them dive into "worse" habits (for Cirrus, Zephyr, and Slipstream get into mercenary work when they got out of highschool and for Jet continue his father's Rogues).

Oh, and unrelated to their behavior, all four of them would later realize that they are queer, with Cirrus realizing he's bi, Zephyr realizing he's a demiboy (also gay but I didn't note that in the picture), Jet would realize he's gay, and Slipstream would realize that he's genderqueer.

So yeah, all around "stick it to the man" behavior from all four of them.

#predator hawk #bean the dynamite #jet the hawk #speedy the bird #battle kukku xvi #jet's grandfather #nimbus the hawk #sonic oc #9 years au #sonic the hedgehog au #sth au #sth #🛹.text #right on queue

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spitdrunken · 12 hours ago

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woorah... been real obsessed with homicipher, specifically mr. scarletella <3 really love your content of him like holy shit i love that manthing! i've had my mind on scarletella with an mc that mutilates themself for gratification, trying to stamp out their homicidal urges because of how it affects their life? or we could get unapologetic and odd, think of mc who gets off on brutality. whisks people away, holes them up in that abandoned building and tortures them slow, cutting into themself as well to make it 'fair,' “look, get over yourself. i can handle it, look.” forces blood into their victim's mouth and grinds onto open wounds, reveling in the pained writhing below them. i can imagine that scarletella would be there during the act, sometimes. i wonder what he would feel towards such behaviours? i think that the reason he is so drawn to mc, besides the 'offerings,' is the violence. that stranger comes and paints the floor red, then goes where he cannot follow. drags their prey into that dreary building and lets them run for the thrill of the chase. they always get caught; after comes the intimacy, mc taking their time preparing 'gifts for him,' which means they have to like him, right? they like him. they like him a lot! surely 'hunting' has to be a thing in the otherworld's culture, maybe those dynamics of predator and prey have specific terms. anyhow, i feel like he would think they're playing with him. they turn and run when he shows himself, do they want him to chase them, too? would they enjoy it if he was tangible enough to pin them down and make them scream? would they claw at him or would they lie there, since they (most definitely, a hundred percent) like him so much? if he asked, would they provide their name willingly? i guess one day, that all leads up to mc being led into the otherworld, and we go down the canon road drool... i wonder if he would like watching mc hurt themself in various different ways. if he would think their pain was for his satisfaction too burning, cutting, peeling their own skin off and shoving it down their unfortunate victim's throat — maybe he would feel something towards that. that they should be leaving it for him. their flesh belongs to him, he wants their soul, their being, too. i love the possessive nature of mr. scarletella. i don't think he's aware of how many different ways there are to express yourself, or what he even wants to express. his entire reputation in the human world is this urban legend who asks for your name, your identifier, what makes you you and reaches for more, takes your soul. of course he wants mc's name... it is interesting to think of the strong feelings he has towards mc (adami, or anyone's self insert... i'm actually super interested in how dynamics can be altered with however whoever wants to change their character)

notes: gore, character death, self-harm

hiiii anon your ask has been living rent-free in my brain, i love seeing your enthusiasm and all your different unhinged (positive) ideas collated here :D!! and i'm glad you enjoyed my take on mr. scarletella <33

putting everything under the cut because it's Graphic. if you're not into reading gore, i wouldn't recommend reading <3

ooooo i love the idea of someone who is desperately trying to keep their homicidial urges under control and, in an almost martyr-like fit, takes to destroying their own body to try and control it all… in the end it never works. and could you imagine someone who copes in that manner getting lost in the other world? capable of chopping off whole limbs and cutting away chunks of their own flesh with all of the pain, and none of the loss— because every single part of their body regrows! spoiler alert i am a huge fan of immortal characters turning to extreme ways for self-gratification so. drool.

unapologetic and odd! i love that idea too… shaking their head and sighing a bit when their victim starts crying before the knife even breaks their skin. they haven't even started yet! there's nothing to be upset about. a person who slices across their own skin before hurting the victim, to show them that they can take it, almost meant as a comfort but not quite. finding connection in the grotesque, sinking fingers into warm, throbbing wounds and popping the tips of their fingers into their mouth.

i imagine that he's always awawre of anything that goes on in the building, so he wold definitely know and see! personally, i also think mr. scarletella is drawn to violence in one way or another <3! quite a few of the monsters left in the other world are reduced to constantly throwing violent fits, so the world he created definitely has that effect on people. maybe he sees all of it as a kind of altar to him because of all the crimson, the colour he embodies. the puddles of blood, the sprays of it on the walls, alongside the stack of bodies left rotting in a corner. perhaps because he is born out of a scary story-like rumour, he'll always be drawn to violence.

oooooo!! i love your take on this. the hunt and the attack being part of a courting process, essentially. to allow yourself to be hunted and taken down as a form of submission to the other, a type of romance… mr. scarletella is already certain that they like him. why else would they have left sososo many gifts for him? and he likes them, too. a lot. he is sad that he can't return their feelings in the samer manner. his form is incorporeal, he cannot physically hurt others, cannot be physically hurt himself either. (in typical circumstances…) at most, he can play with the mind, coax them into giving him their name where he can do absolutely whatever he wants with them. i wonder if, eventually, when they are in the other world with him and he watches them getting chases down by other inhabitants, capable of touching them, if he would get jealous… :')

possessive mr. scarletella is so real and true!! it's all so overwhelming to him, poor guy. he becomes more tangible, more real through his feelings for them, binding him to the world with more than just the words of others- he likes you so, so much! he is absolutely the type to have such a violent type of all-consuming love. where he'd want to crawl inside your skin and inhabit your body, where he'd want to snuff your life out as long as he was capable of bringing you back to life over and over again. he can stand others touching them, killing them, for now, but only because he knows they'll be entirely his sooner rather than later.

once they give him their name, they won't simply cease to exist. they'll be under mr. scarletella's control, yes, but he doesn't want to extinguish all of their individuality. i can imagine mr. scareletella creating a little contained world just for the two of them, where they can each take turn being the hunter and the hunted, tearing into and devouring each other in an endless cycle… perhaps if he had not been poisoned by the sight of all their killings, his affections would've been less violent.

#cha.scarletella #cw.selfharm #cw.self harm #cw.guro #cw.gore

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greenaswildfire · 3 months ago

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Alright, here be some additional thoughts of mine regarding Martin's post and HBO's answer to him

Summary:

he knew the risks from the start.

he warned us he would write a post about.

Martin posted his opinion

The post was weirdly taken down, apparently by HBO's request.

Lets see now:

Martin knows from the start that HBO needs him way more than the opposite. Even more now with Warner's huge debt, they NEED these spinoffs to succeed. And do we really think that spinoffs like Aegon's Conquest and 10K ships will be successful with Warner's restrictions for budget and number of episodes? And one more thing: with these limitations, do we really think the success tends to increase from now on? Maybe for Aegon's Conquest and tko7k, but I don't see the same level of interest for shows like 10K ships, or the animations for Yi Ti and Corlys voyages. The average viewer is Targaryen simp, they won't be that interested in a show where Valyrians/Targaryens are the villains (they can't stand Rhaenyra being villain, let alone her ancestors!), or in any other show that has no valyrian/targaryen. Maybe Martin is aware of the implications in the long run and that's why he decided to finally talk, before it's too late.

A predator doesn't warn his prey when he's going to strike. But George warned us beforehand that he planned to voice his concerns about hotd. Why would he do it, when he could have simply dropped the myopinion-bomb and left? Being impredictable is an advantage in most cases and maybe HBO would have taken longer to act if they weren't aware of the fact George would write something. But he warned us. And HBO by extension. Maybe I'm overthinking, but thinking back now, his warning sounds strategical, almost like: "here, I'm telling you that I do want to write the post, but if I don't, it's because something happened and I was silenced".

He finally posts his opinion. Dunno whether or not his post was published before or after the podcast episode, and if the podcast was posted after, not even HBO believed he would indeed write about it and was forced to come up with smokes and mirrors to dissipate the chaos. It was so unexpected that HBO even answered his post. Why would you, a huge-ass company bother to answer a mere post NOW of all times? It's not the first time Martin writes about his opinions on hotd and they kept radio silent. Why now? All this "getting defensive so easily" behavior reeks of damage control, they KNOW they messed up big time.

Now what I'm really interested to know: who was the one to actually take down the post? We've got two options:

HBO: They were caught off-guard and given they're so desperate for money they def CANNOT afford ANY kind of backlash or criticism (we all know what they're doing with some youtube videos which did not bootlicked S2 :D) they sharply questi-*cof* asked him to delete the post.

Martin: well, the author himself wrote a post warning us that he would write his opinion. You can't convince me that a man who created Tywin Lannister and Doran Martell wouldn't be able to come up with such strategy (a good one, for that matter!). Martin warned us he would write it, left the post there for a bit and then deleted it because he knew that we would blame a certain big company right away, he had alerted us that he would write a post, right? And somehow the post is gone?? Our first instinct is jest about "HBO calling him and threatening him". Regardless of the options I presented, Warner ends up as the villain anyway, losing market value, Martin strikes them exactly where it hurts the most: reputation, which makes harder to get money. A risky move that could bite George in the ass, surely, but nothing that a "sorry George, I'll stick to the source material, forgive me" doesn't fix. Doran Martell level of masterplan, ladies and gents. (if my delirious thoughts are correct, that is)

And one more thing: why would they care about Martin "spreading S3 spoilers" if Condall said somewhere (an interview, iirc) that he was still writing S3? In theory nothing is set on stone yet, right? Unless Hel's death happens in the first episodes of S3, there's nothing to be spoiled about her death because there's nothing written about this part yet, right, Condall? Loose lips sink ships. Here George, use this argument in your defense if HBO tries to sue you. If HBO did force him to delet the post, it wasn't because of spoilers, it was because they were butthurt. Simple as that.

My last two cents for now:

I guess Martin chooses Helaena to talk about first because Helaena is more or less the only thing both sides sort of agree about. It would be easier to unite the fandom through Helaena in order to help him prove his point than, yk, the other women in this so-called adaptation. And it kinda worked, I don't know if it was a coincidence, but Hel's actress shared a stories of the gameofthrones page, and the first image was Helaena's and I take it as a silent gesture of hers that she agrees. Take if with a grain of salt, ofc, I'm always overanalyzing my hyperfixations, you don't need to take me seriously.

Just watch how Condal and Hess now ruin hotd on purpose. Poor Helaena, she'll be the first to fly through the moon door.

Have a nice day \o/

#anti hotd #hotd critical #grrm #anti ryan condal #I'd tag Sara too she's scriptwriter after all

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lieutenant-pride · 1 month ago

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i kinda wanna rant about agatha all along

for better or for worse i looked in the general direction of an mcu property again and spoiler alert, it's mostly for the better

really i just wanna blurb about it and why i think it's a standout in the mcu catalog, and why i feel i'm enjoying it compared to all the other work i've seen in the mcu - and some work outside of it, to an extent!

(ACTUAL spoiler alert for under the blurb for guardians vol 3, multiverse of madness, wakanda forever, deadpool and wolverine, and - of course - agatha all along)

the preface: my history watching stuff with any attachment to the mcu involves quite a few of the mainline movies that were released leading up to avengers infinity war and endgame. back then, i had much less of a problem with the writing decisions made within the work because i really was just looking for popcorn films out of these - and to be fair, i can't take shots at others who want that now, either! some of my favorite films predating infinity war were thor ragnarok and black panther

after endgame, i kinda fell off the bandwagon and didn't really want to indulge many of the series actively from that point on, though i didn't really pinpoint why for a bit after that. i didn't engage with any of the tv shows in phase 4, aside from seeing clip shows of wandavision and what if here and there. what sort of helped shape why i was losing interest in the mcu and its style of writing - and works that ended up shaped by that style of writing inside and outside of disney's reach - was watching the four post-endgame films i had any passing interest to see: guardians vol. 3, multiverse of madness, deadpool and wolverine, and wakanda forever. each of these illustrated my issues with previous films clearer than before, in different ways.

Guardians Vol. 3 is a film that was heavily hindered by the past films' comedy chops hamstringing the serious character story for rocket raccoon. much as i wanted to invest in this heartfelt story they were putting together for him, it IS a guardians of the galaxy film, so how can it hold water if it's all serious all the time? it led to a tonal dissonance, especially with the usual irony sprinkled into that humour that you see in a lot of films within the mcu? much as it tried to bring me in, it still actively pushed me out

Multiverse of Madness has a worldbuilding issue in what it allows its villain to do and when: Wanda in this film - namely during her Dreamwalking moments - can just do straight up anything she wants, as long as it makes her a horror film level threat to the heroes. this, unfortunately, leads you to ask, with alarming frequency: "Okay, if she can do X, then why doesn't she do X again now, instead of Y?" this is also combined with the fact that the rules of her magic only get the slightest hint of boundaries during this film. sure, we can say it's the darkhold empowering her the whole time, but if this book allows her to do so much, why does she go through the catalog of spells and pick a new one with each situation, when some of those spells could work alarmingly well for her in later scenarios?

Deadpool and Wolverine was a lot of fun - in isolation. unfortunately, what it also did was paint in bright-ass colours what's a big problem with all the films actively a part of the MCU, by upping the dosage to 11: irony poisoning. this film wants nothing more than to look at old comics and pop culture and old flops and behind-the-scenes info about movies that fell flat, then turns to you and goes like "hey remember this thing? you like these fun jokes and characters? you like these memes? see how these things don't wanna be comics but we do?" it's a film that is very deeply tongue-in-cheek. and hey! that's fun, to some degree. it's just when you realize it's an SNL skit stretched out to feature film length that you kinda have to look at it - and other ryan reynolds work, after a bit - and kind of wonder if he wants to make anything new that's not busting open the fourth wall at every opportunity.

Wakanda Forever is the outlier here. where the others illustrate my frustrations, wakanda forever gave me a glimpse of something i wanted to see more of: a story that wanted to tell itself to you, that didn't want to hamper itself down with the same saturation of jokes that others in the MCU have. this was a film that wanted to put - front and center - a story about a brilliant and powerful woman grieving her paradoxical lack of power to save the ones she loves, and her struggles with grief as revenge begins to cloud her vision. the usual chops and attempts at levity are still there, but perhaps because there's less of them and they're timed better, there's more room for the real story to breathe, and for us to really focus on that struggle Shuri goes through. i finished watching this film and actually liked it quite a bit compared to the rest!

so yeah, by this point, i was much clearer on what i wasn't loving about the mcu: it's the damn irony poisoning and - as a friend of mine once put it - they're films that make all the actual fights about who "has the more powerful blue". the mcu films largely aren't willing to invest enough time in themselves to properly set up the stakes, and have those characters acknowledge them as they move forward, instead focused more on spectacle and quick quips.

now, that does make for fun popcorn movies, sure, but after getting a hypersaturation of that, i kind of wanted more from it? if i was getting a world of magic or sci-fi or superpowers, i wanted more than just a vague gesture at how powerful each of these things were, i wanted them to actually set up stakes and lay out clearly and consistently what made the villain a threat - and treat them like one consistently! and if the villain isn't the big issue, then i wanted to see what really was: the internal conflict was something i wanted more of, as well. i wanted characters that actually struggled with what choices they made or showed integrity in those choices, that held up their actions with conviction, instead of taking a lazy jab at it

agatha all along released, silently at first, mostly something i heard of because - on release - there was already buzz about billy kaplan being who teen HAD to be. i didn't watch it right away because i didn't care about the tv shows too actively before, so why do it now? and plus, what if it was just the same as the clip shows of wandavision i had seen? the best of it would just become clip shows on youtube eventually, right?

sometime later - had to be a little under two weeks ago, since it was just after episode 5's release - i got bored and said "you know what, how about i give this show a chance, after all?"

thank you, bored me, that was a pretty damn good decision

the first episode was a trip into the hexed mind of agatha, looking at the world through her vision as billy tries to break her out of it. it was a bit deceptive at first, but it was fun enough to keep me on board, even though i knew the tone had to shift considerably from there. the first couple of episodes did great at laying the groundwork for the series to come, and i wasn't as aware of it early on, but it was becoming clearer there was something different here

especially because each episode seemed to make it progressively harder to "just censor the queer bits" let's fuckin gooo!

but while one of my earlier grievances was more quietly alleviated, another seemed more loudly crushed by episode 5's climax. not necessarily the reveal that billy was billy all along, but the events leading up to it: there were characters in world moving on from a death that JUST HAPPENED - a murder, even! - and this leading up to billy's explosion and character reveal. this moment, where agatha celebrated her return of her powers even after killing one of her coven; where the two senior witches, while frustrated, seemed to shake off the death shockingly easily; and billy, the most junior of the bunch, has to deal with these people he thought he trusted just shaking off the death of someone he had made a friend of! there was actual character-led drama here! tension from characters acting accordingly led to a big shift in the dynamic and a character taking extreme action! i'm INVESTED???????

(the earlier grievance that was quietly handled was my worldbuilding and magic system issue, because this story wanted to genuinely believe in the magic it crafted and made sure, with each step, the rules it wanted to craft were followed. the funny thing is, by working mostly with characters that had little-to-no power as well as those who just couldn't control what they had, we were able to focus more on building the rules up through non-powered means and using the knowledge of the craft they practice first. i think we can also have a discussion on how maybe the balance of "exposition" vs "show don't tell" is a bit too tipped to the former's side, but i think that's something for another day, after the series finishes)

from there, episode 6 happens, and it just cements this show - in my mind - as probably my favourite mcu series. first of all, because if episode 4 didn't already do it, 6 made sure that there was just no room to censor out the gay bits, fuck yeah. secondly, it builds on the character we were already being introduced to quite well: using billy's past life as a source of internal drama was a natural choice, and it's done quite well, allowing you to invest deeper in what this kid's going through and why he's hunting so fervently for the witch's road, and what he expects to get out of it. even the final section where agatha interrogates his convictions (which by the way, definitely is where i'd start asking about exposition vs show don't tell) is great - not just for him, but for agatha, as we see HER convictions on display as well!

i kinda wanna wrap up my thoughts - and also episode 7's barely come out - so i won't touch on that one; just know that 7 is also peak, potentially even the best of the series to date

agatha all along was so deceptive to me because i was almost expecting just a general witch-y spinoff of what we got of her in wandavision, and what i saw of her made me think she'd just be another quippy villain that gets her own spinoff like loki (that series might be good too but i just don't like loki that much...?) what i got instead was a series focusing on agatha trying to get her powers back alongside a teenager with his own mysterious intentions - both seeking out a perilous option to get what they seek, alongside initially skeptical comrades who all get their own level of development as time goes on. what i got was a series that was invested in building upon the ideas of witches and magic that wandavision built some foundations on, delving deeper into the topics and showing us how other witches think and feel about their perception and struggles in the modern world. what i got was a disney series that didn't just say there was a gay character; it said there were many, and a few of them even make out on screen and have ex-lover drama! what i got was a series that took its world seriously, and a goddamned breath of fresh air out of the mcu!!!

so yeah agatha all along's pretty damn good, hope it keeps up the momentum in episode 8

#rant #agatha all along #mcu

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blooming-violets · 9 months ago

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CREATURE LIKE ME || CHAPTER SIX: KRAVEN THE HUNTER

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Story Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

Chapter Six Warnings (spoilers but important to read anyway for this chapter!!): childhood grooming, abuse of power with sexual intent, nonconsensual touching, major age gap, talk of forced pregnancy through grooming behaviors, being forced by circumstances to act in a sexual that they otherwise would not chose to do, descriptions of heavy dissociation, mild descriptions of torture wounds from chapter 5, heavy descriptions of branding with a hot iron, death talk/murder of father and brother, this chapter is full of dark creepy sexual predator undertones meant to make you feel uncomfortable - this is your warning

[link to chapter index]

“Give ‘em hell.”

The wolf girl’s words rang in her ears as the gears to the bookcase alerted them to Calypso’s impending return.

She watched the girl sink back to the bottom of her cage and curl into a ball to not draw any further attention to herself. Talking as much as she had clearly worn her out. Whether or not Aylin took her life, she probably wouldn’t make it until morning in her condition.

Give them hell.

Aylin couldn’t move. She couldn’t hold her own head up. If there weren’t chains attached to her wrists, she’d be laid out flat on the floor. She was too weak. Too broken. Too tired. There was no hell to give when she couldn’t ignite the fire in her chest. It had burned out to nothing but simmering coals. She couldn’t even stop the silent tears openly flowing down her cheeks.

She didn’t want to kill the wolf girl.

She didn’t want to kill anyone.

That’s all everyone ever wanted from her. Her life was spent training to be the best. The fastest, the stealthiest, the deadliest. Train, fight, kill. Three things she was supposed to do better than anyone else. She’d never once stopped to question if there were any other options for her until she stole Peter from his captors. Going against everything she was ever taught, her every instinct, allowed her to grab a tiny morsel of what free will tasted like.

Now that she had it, she didn’t want to let it go.

Aylin closed her eyes, listening to Calypso’s slow descent down the creaking wooden stairs, and imagined that she was standing at the edge of the forest pond. She tried to imagine the sound of croaking bullfrogs as the morning mist was pushed across the still waters by the rising sun. The light breeze rustled through her hair and tickled her nose. She felt no pain here. Her body was healed and she was happy. Peter was behind her, splayed out on the old hammock, rocking lazily back and forth as he tried to befriend a curious chipmunk with a scraps of bread. Mourning doves cooed in the trees above them. Peace. True peace. She let the warmth of the daydream envelop her.

When she had first found Peter, he had been tortured for months. He had been beaten, broken, and abused. He had endured so much and there he was, tucked into her memories, beside her at the pond. It wasn’t a fantasy or a far-fetched dream. It had been real. It had happened. Peter survived through his torment to make it to the pond with her. He’d survived long enough to find a new moment of serenity. He made it out of his chains and got to taste freedom once more.

Aylin focused on the warm coals in her chest. They weren’t completely doused cold. Not yet. She could still grow this fire. If Peter could break free after all that time then she could survive a few hours. His strength could give her strength. She would find her way back to him.

Give them hell.

A tiny spark of hope ignited.

She opened her eyes with a new found sense of determination. There would be no more tears. She would feel no more pity. She would do what she had to get herself out of this basement. She was the daughter of Samuel and Nesrin. She was the sister of Emir. She was a fierce warrior with the soul of a raging sun.

She was Aylin the Hunter and she would not be broken by her people.

She would not let her own guild take her down.

“Give ‘em hell,” she whispered under her breath.

“What was that, dear?” Calypso quipped as she stepped into the light with a tote bag draped over her shoulder. She had finally tied her robe back together to cover herself. Not that Aylin cared anymore what the woman looked like. She stunk of evil regardless of what she was wearing.

Aylin stared her down, putting her emotionless mask onto her face, ready to play along with the sick games. She would say and do anything she had to make them trust her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the wolf girl smirk before she quickly hid her face in the crook of her arm. She knew her words had hit home with Aylin.

“Nothing,” Aylin gave her a tight, closed lip smile.

Calypso crooked her brow but shook it off, “Sergei will be down soon. He has some words to have with you. Let’s get you cleaned up before he arrives.” She dropped her bag to the ground and, with one sweeping motion, pushed the scattering of tools off the table onto the floor. A bone saw slid towards Aylin’s feet and she was thankful it was one tool that hadn’t been used on her.

“I’m going to let you down and lay you on your stomach on top of the table to tend to your back first,” Calypso said. “I’ll stop the bleeding and wrap you up.”

She pulled a little brass key from her robe pocket and stepped over the saw to reach up towards the chain cuffs. With a quiet click, Aylin’s wrists were sprung free. Her legs immediately gave out and she tumbled backwards. Calypso caught her in her strong grasp, slinging Aylin’s arm over her shoulder, and dragged her towards the table.

Everything hurt.

Her head was dizzy from the fog of the pain. Pins and needles spread throughout her arms as the blood rushed down to her fingers after being denied it for so long. The torn up skin on her back cried in agony with every flex of her muscles. She forced herself to think about her and Peter’s pond. She desperately tried to remember the sound of the doves in the trees and the smell of the crisp morning breeze after a night of rain. She willed her brain to focus on the memory of Peter in the hammock instead of on the torment of her body. His shaggy, wet hair from laying under dripping leaves…the white scars across his pale, sun deprived chest…the way he nuzzled his cheek against the strong swell of his shoulder muscle as his long lashes fluttered closed…

She couldn’t recall the exact moment Peter had grown into her source of comfort down here but he was becoming all she could think about. Maybe it was her lack of sleep and waning sanity? Maybe it was because being with him at the pond was her last brief moment of happiness before she ended up in this basement? Maybe it was the fact that she actually was starting to appreciate everything he had given her in that short amount of time since knowing him? Her entire world view shifted the moment they met. Her path switched its course. Her life changed. Was it worse? Better? She didn’t know. All she knew was that the longer she was away from him, the greater her heart began to ache to have him back.

Her body felt like a floating feather as Calypso hoisted her with ease onto the table.

The wood was warm under her shivering skin. The burning fire against the back wall had done well to heat the surface. She let her eyes close and allowed the warmth to absorb straight into her aching bones. Between the memories of the pond and finally being horizontal, she was certain she could fall asleep within seconds. She could already feel herself drifting.

A glass cup being placed against her lips jarred her from the clutches of her inevitable sleep. Aylin’s eyes shot open and she instinctively jerked away from it, sending shooting pain down her back, as she shoved it away. The last time something was unexpectedly pressed against her mouth, she had lost a tooth. Her body was on high alert, ready to fight with whatever little it had left to give.

The smell of fresh herbs filled her nostrils. The amber liquid was hot and steaming. Despite the enticing smell, she had fallen for this trap before. Drinks from this woman could not be trusted.

Calypso grabbed the back of Aylin’s head and shoved the cup towards her again, “Don’t be so dramatic. I only drugged you to get you down here and, since you’re already here, I have no more use for that tea. This is a different concoction. It will take the edge off the pain. Not a lot but enough so that you won’t keep passing out whenever you move. Sergei needs you awake and able to stand.”

She tipped the contents down Aylin’s throat to little resistance. Whatever fight she thought she had moments ago, disappeared faster than it arrived. She was too tired. It had been a few hours since she last had anything to drink. Her throat was dry and her tongue felt like rough sandpaper. She gave in and greedily gulped down the entire cup. It felt instantly numbing as it slid over her sore gums. She welcomed the feeling.

“Good, good. I’m glad to see you’re finally starting to cooperate,” Calypso remarked as she gathered up Aylin’s sticky, blood soaked hair off her back and draped it off to the side. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

A mason jar with filled honey colored salve was placed next to her head. The jar popped open and Calypso dug some out onto her long, slim fingers. She gently smeared it across Aylin’s back with precise, soft strokes. She had been expecting it to sting or cause pain like everything else Calypso did, instead, she felt a cooling sensation spread throughout the wounds. Her pain was beginning to fade the more salve covered. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the brief moment of peace. She imagined herself back in the hammock with Peter as their gentle rocking lulled her into a state of bliss.

A Silver Colt and a Lycan, squished together in a single hammock. What a strange pair they made.

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Calypso stated. The sound of her grating voice put a damper on Aylin’s daydreams. “I use this on Sergei whenever he returns from a nasty fight. It clots the blood and soothes out the pain for a bit. Now, if you had just behaved in the first place, we wouldn’t need to be using this. You could be home with your mother, enjoying the benefits of being a proper hunter. Instead, you’re covered in blood, and in need of repair. You made a real mess of yourself down here, kid. I’ve seen men torn apart by wolves look better than you.”

Like Aylin had a choice in what happened to her. At least she hadn’t given up Peter. He was still safe. That’s what mattered.

If he was even still at their camp. He could have been long gone by now for all she knew. If he had any wits about him, he would have fled the moment she left him alone. That’s what she would have done if the roles were reversed.

Except that wasn’t true.

She was lying to herself.

She would have stayed. She would have waited for him in the hopes that he returned. Because, despite their heated arguments, she would want to see him again. To make sure that he was okay. To look him in the eyes and know that he was safe.

She prayed he was doing just that. She wanted to see him again. She needed to. She needed this torture to be worth something.

He had to be the light at the end of her tunnel for any of this to make sense.

Calypso wiped her hands off and reached back into her bag for some clean dressing just as heavy footsteps descended down the stairs. Aylin turned her head to watch Kraven’s hulking form emerge from the shadows. Every time she saw him, he looked bigger.

Or maybe it was her confidence shrinking.

Calypso sighed, “She's not ready yet. I’ve barely started.”

Kraven’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, taking in the sight of his captive, “What in the Helios have you done to her, Cal? I told you to shake her up and scare her. Not mutilate her. She’s a Colt, not a wolf.”

Calypso gave a satisfied smile, admiring her work, “She was a tough one to break. Strong willed. It needed to be done. I think she got the message, though.”

He placed a hand over the top of Aylin’s head, patting her hair like his favorite dog, as he looked around the room, “I’ll hose down the blood while you get her wrapped up. And reset her broken fingers. They’ve turned blue.”

Aylin’s shredded bra had been discarded but the bandages tending to her back had been wrapped around her chest to keep her somewhat decent. Kraven had insisted to his wife that she give Aylin back some of her dignity by covering her breasts with the wrap. As if she wasn’t still laid out on a table in nothing but her blood soaked underwear. She knew it was another play to present himself as a kind hearted gentleman. The good cop, bad cop routine was blatantly obvious.

When Calypso had finished caring for Aylin’s back, she set her broken bones and bound them together in a tight splint. Kraven had placed a heavy hand over Aylin’s mouth, as his wife snapped the bones back into place, to stifle her shriek of pain. His murmurs of attempted comfort in her ear did little to soften the blow.

She was now resting with her cheek pressed against the table, eyes closed, and dozing in and out of consciousness while the other two spoke softly in the corner. Their low voices were lulling her into a trance and beckoning her towards sleep. With the worst of the pain being dulled by the medicine, Aylin decided to let herself drift off until they called on her. Her body was exhausted.

She allowed the sleep to take her.

“Have a nice rest?”

Kraven’s voice jared through her hazy dreams. She struggled to open her eyes and saw him lounging in a wooden chair at her side. Calypso was no longer in the room. Alyin felt a breath of relief to be rid of her dominating presence. Kraven scared her but she still felt more familiar with him than his wife. He was more predictable and easier for her to get a read on. He was less likely to strike without baring his teeth first. She tried to push herself up, feeling stiff and achy. Some of the drugs must be starting to wear off because there was pain radiating across her wounded back whenever she moved.

He quickly stood up, putting a hand under her armpit, to hoist her into a sitting position, “There you go. Nice and slow. Cal really did a number on you. I had a talk with her about it. I didn’t realize she would go that hard.”

A statement. Not an apology. She kept her face placid with a hint of affection towards him. She needed to play this game to perfection. He was the weaker of the two when it came to her. If she was going to win anyone over with her feigned charm, it would be him. He was going to become her well loved, revered leader once again. She would worship at his feet if it got him to trust her. All she had to do was play along enough to get out of here.

Whatever it takes.

Kraven grabbed a jug of ice cold water by his feet and lifted it to her lips, “Drink. Get hydrated. You’ve been asleep for a couple hours. It’s about two in the morning now. I’d let you sleep through the night but I don’t think the bitch will make it that long.” He jerked his head back to the wolf girl who’s shallow breaths were slow and few between. Her time on this Earth was almost complete. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugged, flinching at the pain following that movement, “Been better.”

He nodded as if he truly understood the depravity she’d been through. His dark eyes studied her face. She could feel dried blood caked to her cheeks and she shivered a bit under his watchful gaze, wishing she had a blanket wrapped around her to shrink into. She wondered where they were keeping her clothes and if they’d ever return them back to her.

“Are you cold?” He asked. “Would you like to sit closer to the fire?”

Without waiting for her answer, Kraven stood up and helped her to her feet. He kept her steady with one arm and grabbed the chair with the other. He walked them closer to the open, wood burning stove. The orange glow danced over her bare skin and encircled her legs with warmth. It felt nice. Not as nice as being clothed would feel but it was better than nothing. Kraven placed the chair on the ground and sunk into it. He wrapped a restraining arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Aylin stifled a yelp of shock and quickly forced her widening eyes to relax. Her thumping heart did nothing to help her growing panic. She had not expected that move.

She felt his chest rumbling with amusement as he chuckled to himself under her.

“Something the matter?” He asked with an air of innocence. He was purposely pushing her past her comfort zone. He knew exactly what he was doing.

But so did she.

Whatever it takes.

Aylin shook her head, “No. It’s warm over here. Thank you.”

“Good.” He relaxed into the back of the chair and draped both her legs over his so her side was cradled against his chest. “Is that comfortable? I don’t want to disturb your back too much. She really ripped you up back there.”

She swallowed, willing her heart to steady, “Yes. It’s fine.”

It was not fine.

Kraven’s hands wandered over her muscular thighs, his nails picking at the dried blood crusting there, “You could use a long shower. Cal might have dealt with your injuries but she sure as shit didn’t do much to clean you. You’re a dirty, little mess.”

Showers and Kraven in the same sentence made her body want to physically revolt. Her jaw tightened at the thought. She tried to force herself to relax. She wasn’t a physically affectionate person before she was brutally tortured and she definitely never wanted to be sitting on this man’s lap while practically nude.

But, if this was what he wanted, then it was what she would give him. She only begged that it go no further than this.

At least the fire felt nice. She tried to imagine what it would be like to sit in Peter’s lap, instead. She replaced Kraven’s face with her Lycan. She’d been dissociating for hours. This would be no different.

She just simply…wasn’t here.

The real Aylin was gone. Lost inside the winding labyrinth of her mind. Snuggled in a warm hammock with her friend. Her body could do the acting for her. Her true self was locked up somewhere safe.

Far away.

Someplace where freedom and fear of the unknown walked hand in hand. Someplace kind and soft.

She wasn’t here. Everything would be okay as long as she wasn’t here.

Whatever it takes.

Aylin placed a soft smile on her face and leaned into him like he was her long time lover, “I’m hoping this can all be over soon. I’d like to get back to how things used to be as soon as possible.”

Kraven patted her leg, “I don’t think we can go back to before. I don’t want to. I’d like things to be different. They need to keep moving forwards. To keep evolving. I had plans for you, you know? Important plans. Plans that involve the delicate future of this guild with you at that center. You see, Aylin, you're more important than you even know. I chose you. The moment you were born, I chose you. I knew you would be the one to save us from extinction.”

She had no idea what he was talking about but she played along by softly nodding as he spoke.

He paused, lifting his hand to gently grasp her chin between his fingers, and brushed his thumb across her cheek, “Would you like to know why?”

It was too soft of a gesture. Too loving. Everything felt wrong.

Her stomach ached and she felt nauseous.

Aylin put a soft, confused look over her features to make herself look more innocent and forgivable than she felt, “Of course, Sergei. You know I’d do anything to help our people.”

He gave her a warm smile and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Her father used to kiss her like that when she was a child.

The grief filled memory crashed through the fragile walls of her labyrinth. She had forgotten that memory. Once it was lost to time but now it was back with vengeance, ready to plague through her delicately crafted daydreams. It flooded her vulnerable mind like a broken dam unable to hold back the building pressure.

She had to fight back the lump in her throat in an attempt to survive as the memory came crashing down around her until it was all she could feel. She was no longer exposed, broken, and forced to be affectionate with a man she despised. Instead, she was small and tucked away safely into the warmth of her childhood bed.

She was five years old again. Her father was climbing the steep stairs up to her bedroom loft. He had to hunch over to stop from hitting his head on the slanted, wooden ceiling. The smell of sweat, cigars, and the fresh, night air clinging to his thick flannel appeared before he did. He had missed bedtime but he never went to sleep without kissing his children goodnight.

Kraven was speaking behind the wall of memory. He was stroking her blood hardened hair. His arm was wrapped tightly around her waist and the calloused pad of his thumb was rubbing circles into her thigh. He was too close. Too touchy. His hands roamed freely over her body like he owned every inch of her flesh.

Maybe he did.

Maybe she was nothing but his property down in this basement. She had no right to her own body.

His words sounded far away like he was speaking through the opposite end of a long tunnel, “I knew before I married Calypso that she could not bear children. We both knew it but I married her anyway because I loved her. She was my soulmate. The woman of my dreams. The only trait she lacked was the one thing that would keep the Kravinoff line going. Despite my elderly father’s warnings, I didn’t care at the time, because I was young and reckless. I didn’t realize the weight of what it meant to be a leader. This guild has been passed down for generations to the eldest son or daughter. We are raised to take charge. We have much pride in becoming the leader the Silver Colt’s deserve. It is our destiny from being born a Kravinoff but I didn’t realize exactly what that meant until years later.”

Could not bear children.

Bear.

Bears. She was reading about bears.

She wasn’t listening. She wasn’t here.

She was still awake, hidden under her covers with a flashlight, and flipping through her Zoobooks magazine about bears. When she heard her father coming, she quickly tossed the magazine out from under the covers and shoved the flashlight under her pillow, plopping down on top of it and fake snoring.

Samuel had chuckled as he peeled back the covers to expose her face. She remembered trying so hard not to smile but the reign of tickles that he attacked her with caused her sleeping facade to drop in a fit of giggles.

“There came a time when I started to realize that I truly would not have an heir. I began to panic. I knew I had not made a mistake in marrying Calypso. She was everything I could have ever wanted and more. But there would always be one thing missing from my destiny. Something that was integral to the guild’s survival. I needed a child of my own. It was Cal’s idea for what I had to do next. I needed to find someone who would give themselves over to us and let us create the future together.”

Kraven’s sour words blended in behind the smooth words of her dead father.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Linny. Your mother is not going to be happy with you,” he whispered with a teasing smile. “Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.”

Safe with me.

She wasn’t safe. Not here.

“We searched through the women of the guild. Most were married off already. No one satisfied the needs we had when choosing a mother to bear the future leader. She had to be of good stock. Someone strong. Someone capable. Someone who could pass on their strength to our child. When we couldn’t find that woman, Cal suggested we wait. We train up someone from scratch. We could make someone perfect.”

Perfect like her father.

He perched on the edge of her bed and glanced down at the crumpled magazine on the floor, “What were you reading?”

Alyin rolled onto her back and smiled up at Sam, “It’s about bears. Emir was reading it to me earlier. He said he’s a better reader than me and that I take too slow and only know a couple of words and that I keep making up all the rest.”

Samuel rolled onto his side beside her, propping his head in his hand as he scratched at the stubble dotting his chin, “I don’t think Em is wrong. You only know how to read about ten words so far.”

She gasped in indignant shock, “That’s lies! I know thirteen words! I counted them.”

He chuckled, “My deepest apologies. How could I ever have been so far from the truth?” He cupped his daughter’s chubby cheek in his large, warm palm and leaned down to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Do you forgive me?”

Far from the truth.

Through the pull of her memories, she tried to piece together what Kraven was implying. Everything was jumbled. His words and the words of her father blended together into one weaving web of confusion. She was struggling to separate the two scenes playing simultaneously. There was a dull ringing in her ears. Her vision couldn’t focus.

Her heart was crying but her eyes remained dry.

“I looked for the strongest, most dedicated member of our guild. I knew exactly who it would be. My oldest and dearest friend. At the time he only had a son. I remember him telling me once that he only wanted one child. But I took him out hunting. I talked to him all about his love for Emir. That man raved about this little toddler like the sun shown straight out of his ass. It didn’t take much convincing on my part. All it took was a little nudge to push him in the right direction. ‘Have another kid, Sammy. Look how happy you are with the one. Add one more to the mix. Grow that happiness to one more.’” Kraven huffed with amusement. “It was easy. He had no idea what I was after. Cal and I both waited, hoping that he would give us a daughter. And, sure enough, there you were. A perfect little ball of feisty energy. Cal and I worked it out. I would train you to become the best of the best. You would grow to outrank your father in skill. You would be the best hunter the guild had to offer. And, when you turned 21, I would claim you as my protégé and lay down my offer for you to take. In return for my years of hard work making you who you are today, you would repay the debt by bearing my children for the guild. I would require, at the very least, two. It’s always best to have backup options should one heir not make it to adulthood. Although, if you’re enjoying yourself too much, we could have as many as you’d like. I could give you an entire brood if you wished. Cal and I would treat you like royalty during that time. You would never want for anything again. After two children, the deal would be up, if you’d desire it. You could be free to marry whoever you please and continue on with your life. The deal would be complete. You would have completed your duty to the Silver Colt’s and to the Kravinoff lineage.”

The fire in her soul flared with a burning heat of anger. She willed her mind to focus on what he was saying. She needed to take it in. She had to understand to unravel the mess of lies that was her entire existence. How could she have ever been so far from the truth?

He wanted her to…to…

But with every heightened jolt of emotion, she was tugged straight back into her childhood bedroom with her beloved father, like a knight swooping in to protect the vulnerable princess.

Aylin gave in, grinning at her father with a gap toothed smile,“Yes, I do forgive you, but only for right now. Tomorrow I might not because tomorrow I might know fifteen hundred words and then you’ll look silly for thinking I only knew ten.”

“That’s a lot of words,” he nodded in admiration at her willful determination. “If you suddenly know how to read fifteen hundred words by tomorrow then I will buy you an entire library full of books about bears. Promise.”

She held out a tiny pinky finger to lock with his, “Deal.”

Deal. Deal. Deal.

That word meant nothing to her anymore.

Her mind was reeling. It couldn’t stay focused. It was drifting. She was both lost in her labyrinth and stuck in the present. One foot clinging to the miserable reality of her life and the other in the grave beside her dismembered father.

Nothing was real.

Her body was betraying her with the sting of tears pressing at her eyes. She had to lean her head against Kraven’s chest, the fur of his Lycan pelt shall obscuring her from view, as she willed the tears not to fall. They weren’t tears of sadness but of unadulterated rage.

He could claim her? He made her who she was? Repaying her debt?

Her eyes landed on the fire poker sticking out the flames of the open oven. A potential weapon. She needed to locate all the weapons close at hand. He would stop her before she was able to lunge forward to reach it but, if she could somehow break free from his hold, it could be a viable option. Kraven always had his signature curved dagger holstered to his thigh, too. That one was much closer but she would need to distract him before she could snake it out of its sheath without him noticing.

She could be that distraction. She just had to shed herself of the fear clutching at her throat. He scared her. He was stronger than she was. She was so weak compared to him. The realization of what she would have to do to distract him was becoming clearer and she hated her options.

Whatever it takes.

Whatever it fucking takes.

Get out of this basement, no matter the cost. That was the goal. She’d sell her soul if it meant getting to taste her freedom once more. She could lose one part of herself in order to gain another.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

Samuel gave her another quick kiss on the forehead and pushed himself off the bed, “Alright. I have to get to sleep myself. No more reading for tonight, little lady. I don’t want you being a cranky kid for your mom tomorrow.” He ducked back out towards the stairs.

“Baba,” Aylin whispered back to him before his head could disappear down the steps. “Did you know that black bears are omy-whores? That means they can eat everything. Even trash.”

Samuel gave a booming belly laugh that filled the quiet house with his joy, “Omnivores, Linny. Omnivores. And that’s why we have to be really careful where we keep our trash. We don’t want any bears wandering into camp.”

She didn’t know what was so funny but she always liked the feeling of making her father laugh. She beamed at him, pleased with herself, “Sergei will kill them if they get too close. He’ll keep us safe.”

Samuel winked, “Not if I get to them first. Don’t forget, I beat him in every contest we’ve ever been in. Don’t doubt your old pops. You and I, baby girl, we’re stronger than anyone can ever imagine. Don’t count us out.”

“Then why is he in charge instead of you?” She questioned, too young to grasp the weight of his response.

“Because,” Samuel stated with simplicity. “His father was the leader and his father before that and so on and so forth. Sometimes a leader is born instead of earned. Being named a leader doesn’t make you worthy. He’s no better than you or I. He’s just a man.”

He’s just a man.

Sergei Kravinoff was just a man.

And men can be manipulated.

A wicked smile grew across Aylin’s lips. Her fire had consumed her. She was nothing but blinding light and passion ready to burn down anything in her path.

Don’t count her out.

She would not dissociate anymore. She would not let herself disappear. She was getting out. She was getting back to Peter.

Aylin softened her brows to appear with a mild curiosity as she sat up straighter and angled her body to face Kraven the Hunter head on. She would not fear him.

Whatever it takes.

“Did you really choose me for that kind of honor? I would have thought you’d want someone more inviting like your wife. I’m nowhere near as attractive as her,” her voice remained soft and sweet like a young girl vying for her teacher's approval.

A smile tugged at Kraven’s lips, “You’re more alike than you think. And I told you. You were born for this role, Aylin.”

No.

She was born to be his downfall. She was born to destroy his dynasty. She was born to be the last face he ever saw before his life was cut short. This was her story. Not his. She was no one’s puppet. Not anymore. Her strings were cut free and there was no one that could stop her now.

Her fire would never be snuffed out again. She may stumble but she refused to fall.

“And my father never knew?” She quipped. “You never told him? I would think he’d be thrilled to allow me to have such a high ranking place in our guild.”

Bullshit.

He would have murdered Kraven without hesitation if he knew. He would have never allowed this to happen. Anyone who dared to prey on Samuel’s children would be slaughtered. He was stronger than his friend. He would have won the fight had he found out what Kraven was planning. He never would have stood for such an ominous scheme involving anyone in the guild, nevermind, his own daughter. There was no way he could have ever known.

If Sam knew, he would have attacked Kraven. He would have won the fight.

Unless…

Kraven’s silence was damning.

Aylin faltered, “Wait…did my father find out?”

Kraven shrugged as if it was nothing but a mild annoyance. He was watching her expression carefully. She wouldn’t let her mask slip no matter what he told her. She had to be strong.

This was not the story she was told.

Samuel and Emir were killed by Lycan not by Kraven.

They were killed by wolves. They were ripped apart so badly that her and her mother weren’t allowed to see the bodies. It was Lycan. It was always Lycan that caused their death.

“He may have found out, yes, but he wasn’t, as you put it, thrilled. It doesn’t matter, though. It wasn’t up to him. He had no power over my ruling.”

Samuel knew.

He had found out what Kraven was planning to do to her.

And then he was dead.

He had gone on hundreds of hunts and came back without so much as a scratch. Yet, the one hunt he goes on with no one else but her brother and Kraven, they both end up slaughtered with Kraven as the only survivor.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Kraven’s hand wandered up and down her side, hesitating just under the swell of her breast, before traveling back towards her ass. He was becoming more bold with his movements. He was testing the limits to see how far she would let him willingly go.

She couldn’t even feel what he was doing to her body anymore as the puzzle pieces began to fall together. She didn’t give a shit where his hands went. They could claw up inside of her and she wouldn’t budge. Her mind was too busy reeling with all this new, damning information.

“Why would he be upset? I’m shocked. Why wouldn’t he want such a bright future for me?” The words felt acidic in her mouth as she forced herself to say them. She teased her unbroken hand up to tangle into Kraven’s beard and trace a sly finger along his jaw. She had to gain control or else she’d spiral into the oppressive fear crouching just below the surface of her mind. She needed that dagger at his hip. “I would think he would feel nothing but pride by getting to see his child be given over to such a strong and affluent man.”

Aylin leaned in closer, flashing her best attempt at bedroom eyes at him. He raised his scruffy brows with an enticing curiosity in her pursuit to seduce him. She carefully pulled her leg back to stand up, wrapping it around his thighs instead, to straddle his lap and face him. Her arms snaked around his neck to pull him closer.

Distract and steal. That was the new goal. She had to push her family's death to the back of her mind so she could focus on what was currently important. Her father and brother would still be dead. She couldn’t allow herself to follow them, yet.

Get out of the basement.

Whatever it takes.

“I wish you had told me about your plans for me sooner,” she purred in his ear. “I wish we had skipped over this bullshit and gotten straight to the truth. I kept no secrets about this Peter Parker wolf from you, Sergei. Calypso saw to that. I had nothing but the truth to feed her. I’d never heard of him before you mentioned his name. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you there in that regard. It is true that I lied about why I ran from my ceremony, though.” Her lips grazed over his hairy cheek and hovered over his parted mouth. “I was scared to kill the girl because I had never seen a wolf presented like that before. It startled me. I panicked and I ran when I should have stuck to my training. I should have trusted you and the Colts. I had a lapse of judgment where I saw her as a young girl instead of a mutt. I know that she wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter everyone in our camp if she had the chance and I hesitated in ending her. It’s my biggest regret. I was embarrassed and so afraid to tell you because I knew I had let you down. I failed you and I’m so sorry. I never meant for that to happen. Let me make it up to you. You’re the most important man in my life.” She brushed her lips softly against his, cutting off a part of her soul in the hopes that something new could grow from the bleeding wound. She would give up little parts of herself until she could shed herself free. She would burst from this basement half the woman she once was but she would live. Remove the infected limb to stop the infection from spreading. Do what she had to in order to stay alive. “I worship you as my leader, Sergei. Let me prove it to you.”

A low growl rumbled in the back of Kraven’s throat to let her know that her plan was on the right track. His eyes slipped closed at her erotic touch. She could feel a thick tightness twitch in his pants below her and she subtly ground her hips against it to keep it growing.

It was working.

She was gaining the upper hand. Horny men were weak men.

Her eyes dared to glance down at the curved dagger sheathed against his right hip. It was held snugly in place by a brown, leather strap wrapped around the hilt. She’d have to be stealthy and precise with her every move to not alert him to her deceit.

She trailed her fingertips down his chest, inching closer to her prize. His eyes opened with heavy lids to gaze down at her and she halted her descent. He needed more.

Aylin released a soft whimper to imitate someone who was in need of being ravished, “Please, Sergei. Let me serve my guild. Let me serve you. I accept your deal.”

A devilish smile spread across his lips. He grabbed at her hips to roll her against his bulge.

“Do you feel that?” He murmured. “That’s what a real man feels like. I can do things to your body that you never even thought possible.”

She forced back a gag of disgust.

Whatever it takes.

“If you accept my offer,” he continued, “then you have to be a full member of the Silver Colts. Your ritual isn’t complete just yet.”

Aylin’s eyes flashed over to the wolf girl. She was half expecting to find her staring back but the girl was practically gone. Kraven followed her line of sight then tilted her head back to face him, not wanting to share her looks with anyone else.

“Yes, she’ll need to be dealt with, but there is one more matter to settle first.” The moment he finished speaking, he crashed his lips on top of hers, hungrily grasping at her hips to push her tighter against his cock.

Her entire body physically revolted. Vomit burned up her throat. She could feel her nerves desperately attempting to claw away from his grasp. Her brain was screaming at her to fight back. It went against every nature in her being but Aylin leaned into the kiss with a ferocity. She pried her tongue into his mouth despite the repugnant taste. She tangled her broken hand into his hair. She angled her body to perfectly grind against his bulge to give him exactly what he wanted.

All so her left hand could sneak down to his hip unnoticed.

With a blind silence, she slipped open the leather strap. Her fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger. She felt the cool weight of it in her palm.

Whip it out. Lunge back. Slice it across his neck.

Three simple steps was all it would take.

Her heart was racing. Her mind was nothing but static. Her body was playing the part she had casted for it to perfection. He was distracted. He was vulnerable. All she had to do was follow through.

One…two…thr-

Kraven’s eyes snapped open before she could even attempt to move. They burned into her with a predatory lust. She genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to fuck her or murder her. The sight frightened her, making her feel like a tiny rabbit backed into a corner by a hungry wolf. Her hand instinctively slipped from the dagger as he suddenly stood without warning.

Aylin tumbled off his lap. She was being slammed back down onto the wooden seat. Her back howled in pain as the slats of the chair rubbed against her bandages. Her breath was knocked from her lungs as confusion clouded her thoughts.

Had he felt what she was doing?

Kraven gave a nasty smirk. He sank down in front of her and forced her knees wide apart, grinning as he gained a shocked gasp from his captive. His imposing body pushed between her thighs to keep her spread open.

No. He hadn’t felt her stealing his possession, he was just switching to new positions before she had a chance to remove the dagger.

The panic flooding her body was becoming too much. Her arms felt numb as tingles of lightheadedness spread across her skin. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Her brain was suffocating itself. She didn’t have the upper hand from this position. She wasn’t in control. The dagger was too far away.

She was too late. He was going further than she was comfortable with. Her shifting reality was becoming undeniable. She didn’t want this.

“Wait,” she breathed through shaky gasps.

“Hush, little one. Don’t fret.” His breath trailed over her inner thighs as his beard tickled her skin, leaving trails of kisses down her leg. “This isn’t what you think. Not yet, at least. We’ll have time to discover each other later. We don’t want to rush things. Don’t worry. No, no. You have something else in store for you.”

Aylin watched his every move with a careful intensity, doing her best to keep her rapid breathing steady, as he leaned back towards the fire. Her brows knitted together in confusion when he grabbed the long metal poker sticking out from the depths of the flames.

For a brief moment she felt an overwhelming relief at being spared the horror of having him eat her out. She could handle kissing and grinding as long as she felt like she commanded the situation. As long as she was able to focus her mind on her ulterior motives then she was able to keep calm. The second he flipped the script, her resolve failed her. She would have had zero control in the position he had placed her in. She would have had to endure his desecration of her body without anything to show for it. The thought was enough to break her. It had become too real. She was flying too close to the sun and her wings were bound to get singed.

But she would not break down. Not yet. Not here.

Aylin forced that ‘what ifs’ from her mind and instead geared her attention to what he was holding.

What she originally assumed was fire poker was something else. The end that had been sitting in the flames all this time was formed into a shape she couldn't quite make out at this angle. Though she didn’t need to make out the shape to understand the implications of what Kraven was planning on doing with it.

He was holding a branding iron.

She vaguely remembered seeing a scarred sun against Kraven’s forearm once but she never thought much of how he acquired it.

Kraven looked towards the iron with admiration, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He turned the front towards her so she could get a full picture of the design.

Through the bright yellow halo and sizzling white smoke, a semi circle stared back at her. Along the circular arch were about ten straight lines sticking outwards to signify the rays of the sun. The ends of the rays were already starting to turn into a deep, glowing orange. The entire design was roughly four inches wide and modeled after the Silver Colt’s sun emblem. She could feel the intense heat radiating off the iron and melting her forehead into beads of sweat.

Kraven tugged up his shirt sleeve with his teeth and showed her his forearm where a fully healed, white, scarred sun was etched into his skin, “Got this when I turned 18. Every one of the Kravinoff’s get branded to prove our loyalty to this family. The night we got married, I branded Calypso before we made love. She claims it was the most erotic and sensual experience of her life. She has hers right about here.” He held the iron away from Aylin’s face as he leaned forward, still pushed between her thighs, and slipped a finger into the top hem of her underwear next to the dip in her pelvis. “She wanted it tucked away where only my eyes could find it.”

He smiled and flicked his finger back out, letting the elastic waist snap against her skin, “If you’re serious about our offer like you claim to be then you need to prove it. You join our familia ranks and then finish out your ceremony by cutting the heart of the wolf and tossing it into the fire. Two easy steps to prove to me that you can be reformed. This is your test of loyalty. Cal warmed you up but these are the end steps. By branding you with this sun, you are becoming a part of the Kravinoff family. You will give me children. You will become a full fledged hunter. You will be one of us. Forever. So, I ask you now…do you fully accept?”

Aylin swallowed. Whatever relief she had felt about not being sexually assaulted had only been replaced by a heavy feeling of dread. This was going to have to happen. In order for her to keep playing along, she would have to say yes. More pain would only push her closer to her end goal of escaping. She would do it.

She just had to know one thing first.

“Did you kill my father?” Aylin asked, her voice unwavering, as she held perfect eye contact.

A lopsided, proud smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Not…directly.”

She could feel the blood draining from her face, “But it was your fault? He found out about your plan and then what? How did they really die?”

“I told you the day it happened,” he stated. “A wolf ripped him and Emir apart limb by limb.”

Aylin shook her head in disbelief. A single Lycan wouldn’t have been able to overtake both her brother and father without there being more to the story.

“The whole story, Sergei,” she demanded. “I want the whole story. Tell me and then I will say yes. I will take your deal. I will let you brand my flesh. I will kill the girl. I will give you children. Whatever you want. But not until I know the truth.”

Kraven sighed, rolling his eyes. He scooted out from between her legs and tossed the sun end of the iron back into the flames to reheat as he stood.

“Like I said before, you and Cal are more similar than you think. Both stubborn as they come and refuse to do what I ask of them before I give you something in return,” he chuckled quietly to himself. “I clearly have a type for admiring strong willed women. You’re not going to like what I tell you, Aylin. You cared for your family. Their deaths are not as noble as you were led to believe.”

“I don’t care,” she replied, telling him everything she knew he wanted to hear. “I want the truth. No matter what you tell me, I’ll still comply with whatever you want. I’m still a Silver Colt. This guild is my home. It’s in my blood. You’re my family. I belong here. Now tell me what happened to my father and brother.”

She held her breath in anticipation for the truth.

“Emir must have overheard me speaking to Cal about you. It was around the time I saw you with Leah Rivera. Every part of our plan was going perfectly until that moment. While you could still give me children if you were gay, it wouldn’t be the same. I wanted you to enjoy the process, not be forced into it. You were meant to be a willing participant. We had to make some fast changes to get you back on the right track.”

Aylin bit down on the inside of her cheek to refrain from showing any emotion. Had he killed Leah, too? Is that what really happened to people who “left” the guild? Did everyone’s death fall back on her shoulders?

She didn’t want to be herself anymore. She wanted to be anyone else but Aylin.

“Emir had stopped by to pick up extra crossbow bolts and must have overheard the conversation. I’m sure he ran straight back to daddy to tell him all about his newly found gossip. Anyway, that night we had a small, planned hunt. A few months prior, we had wiped out a pack.” Kraven stopped to give a scowl in her direction. “Peter Parker’s pack. He was the only one who managed to escape and I needed him dead. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I had let one get away. I had received some intel that Parker had been spotted with a woman and young boy about thirty miles out. They were not a part of his original pack. We didn't know if they were already wolves he joined up with or if he was turning new people to grow his ranks. Either way, they were compromised and would be taken care of, as well. Women and children don’t matter when it comes to werewolves. A wolf is a wolf and they all need to be wiped out.

“I had previously planned to take just Sam and Emir to eliminate the wolves. We wouldn’t need any more than three hunters to deal with them. Too many of us would have been too obvious. Sam had said nothing to me the night we left but I could tell Emir had already told him what he heard. They were both simmering with a silent hatred the entire ride out. Everything had changed so quickly between us. I knew it wouldn’t just be a fight between Parker and I that night.”

Aylin watched as he leaned back against the stone wall and crossed his arms, waiting for the ball to drop, and the truth to be revealed.

“We tracked them to a small cabin in the woods. The woman and her kid tried to flee. I remember seeing Emir chase after them but they weren’t my target. I knew exactly who I was there for. I managed to single out Peter. Our fight was long and difficult. At one point, I lost my balance and tumbled down a hill with him bounding after me,” Kraven gave a long, low sigh. “Then he was on top of me. He was stronger than I anticipated. I don’t like admitting that. He was the strongest wolf I’d ever encountered, the first time we met, and now he was driven with his need for revenge. Apparently, me slaughtering his minions was his driving force behind killing me. I may have started to lose my upper hand. Parker was winning the fight. I was pinned under him. I was going to lose my life. And then I saw him. Samuel was standing at the crest of the hill looking down at us. He could see that I was losing and he wasn’t doing a damn thing to stop it. He was directly betraying his leader and his oldest friend all because of something his stupid kid overheard. I let the rage consume me. In one last attempt to get out from under Parker, I grabbed at the dagger by my side. I stabbed it into his neck. As I laid under him, his wolf blood poured from the wound. It got in my mouth. I could taste him on my tongue. And then…”

Kraven paused to relish in the memory, “And then I felt amazing. I felt a power like I had never felt before. It was new. Beautiful. Addicting. Parker’s blood coursed through mine and suddenly I could wield a strength I never knew possible. I was a God with that kind of power. Parker was wounded. I was able to kick him off me. I was able to walk away from a fight that was meant to claim my life thanks to this glorious new drug coursing through my veins.

“I walked straight towards Sam. That bastard had left me to die. I shoved passed him as Emir stood by his father’s side. They looked between Parker bleeding out and myself. I had waited so long to kill the mutt but something changed when his blood entered me. I couldn’t finish the job. Like having his blood in my system was a mental block. Like it wouldn’t allow me to hurt him any further. So, I walked away.

“But Sam wasn’t done. He didn’t care about Parker. He cared about me. He shouted after me. He asked if it was true. I could see that hatred in his eyes. Nothing I could have said would have mattered. He’d already made up his mind. He was ready to fight to the death for your honor. He started after me. He managed to get me to the ground but I was too strong with my newly found power and easily got a hold of him. I could feel his neck starting to snap under my grip. I was so fucking strong. When Emir tried to step in to help, I shot him in the stomach with my colt. That was all it took for Samuel to cease the fight to run to his side. I could hear everything in that moment. I could hear the quick heartbeat of a wolf rapidly approaching us. I may have stabbed Parker in the neck but never underestimate a wolf. What would kill a human, would only slow a mutt down. I’m sure he was clawing his way over to extract revenge but, by then, I was already on my way back to the truck. I could hear Samuel sobbing over Emir as he gargled on his own blood. I could hear both their final screams as the wolf reached them. I don’t even think Sam fought back.

“And I never once looked behind me to check. Not once. I got in my truck and drove to the nearest gas station. I waited until morning before driving back to collect their bodies. I was very careful about who I let see them. Those who did, never dared to question the obvious bullet hole in your brother’s stomach. The silver bullet hiding there mysteriously disappeared.” He gave a quick wink in her direction. “Their bodies were so mutilated by Parker that it was easy to have them covered when it was time to burn them. I wouldn’t want your poor, grieving mother to have to witness such horrors.” He took a long, drawn out breath to finish his tale. “So, to answer your question, no, I did not kill your father. The bullet wound would have killed your brother eventually but, I think, Parker finished them both off before that played out.”

Aylin stared at him in silence. Her eyes were dry and cold. Her limbs were numb. The ringing in her ears was getting louder.

The truth was finally out.

But it didn’t match with what Peter had told her in the camper.

I killed your brother and father just as much as you killed the people I love. Don’t blame me for your family’s death when I had nothing to do with it.

He told her he never touched her family. Not that he knew what they looked like or who they were but he still made it sound like was innocent. According to Kraven, Peter was the one who stole their lives. They were two conflicting statements of the supposed truth.

Her trust in Peter was stronger than that of Kraven. There had to be more to this story.

He may have taken the final bite but Kraven had been the one to pull the trigger.

Kraven the Hunter was the one to blame.

“Brand me,” she stated through her impassive tone.

Aylin held her legs apart to give him easy access to her inner thigh where he was clearly aiming to mark her.

Kraven raised his brows, impressed with her response, and silently reached for the iron. He knelt down at her knees and aimed the glowing sun towards her inner thigh. She didn’t stop to think about how unsanitary the entire process was going to be or how much it was going to hurt. She didn’t care what the outcome would be. She only wanted to welcome the pain with open arms to push away the growing numbness threatening to steal what was left of her severed soul.

Aylin closed her eyes as the metal touched her skin. The faces of her father and brother flashed across her vision. They were followed by the haunting face of Peter. For a blinding moment, the metal almost felt frozen against her until her brain registered it as heat. Lava seared into her flesh. Kraven clamped down on her leg to keep her from instinctively jerking it away from the source of pain. A scream got caught in the back of her tightening throat but she choked it down. She would not scream for this man. She would not scream for the one who murdered her family. He didn’t deserve the honor of hearing her cries.

The horrid stench of burned flesh filled her nose and made her gag. It was a putrid, sickly sweet and sour, nauseating smell. Leather tanning over an open flame mixed with a burning metallic and corrugating blood. She could see through her half open lids that Kraven had already removed the iron but the fire still felt like it was engulfing her leg. Her nails dug into the palms of her hand deep enough to draw crescents of blood. She felt faint. Dizzy. She tried to gasp for air. She could taste the smell of burned flesh in her mouth. It was all consuming.

Kraven was pouring the jug of cold water she drank out of earlier over her burned skin. A tiny waterfall of coolness helped soothe the angry mark. She bit down on her bottom lip and leaned her head back against the chair as she focused on her breathing. Her entire left leg was trembling uncontrollably from the pain.

At least her numbness was being replaced with the familiar feeling of blinding hatred.

“You did good,” he said. The sound of his voice pushed away the pain and fueled her fiery rage even more. “I’ll put some of the special salve Cal brought down on it. I probably should have properly cleaned the area first. I just got a bit turned on with how you demanded it. You sounded just like Cal.”

She wasn’t listening to his words. Her jaw was clenched together in determination.

Step one of what he wanted was done. Step two…kill the wolf girl.

The taste of her inevitable freedom was nearly as sweet as the sickly smell of her burning flesh.

[CHAPTER SEVEN]

Tag List Requirements: 🌒A reblog of this chapter will automatically put you onto the next chapter tag list. If you no longer wish to be put on the next list, simply don’t reblog this chapter.🌔

TagList: @theorgansarerotting @ssecret @sincericida @moonyslove78 @lazyxsquirrel @liz-allyn

A/N: Please remember that writers love to listen to every tiny, little thought you’ve had about their work. If you liked a certain line or enjoyed a particular part, let us know! We’re desperate attention whores who crave your feedback. It’s what keep us writing. It makes us happy and feel appreciated for sharing our work.

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield fic #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spiderman fic #tasm #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm fic #tasm x oc #tasm peter x oc #tasm peter parker x oc #peter parker fanfiction #andrew garfield fanfiction #peter 3 #blooming violets #blooming violets fic #creature like me #creature like me chapter six

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 4 months ago

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Summary of my Edinburgh Festival experience, celebrity gossip edition – comedians who referenced other comedians in their shows. Spoiler alert for everything, obviously.

Nish takes the main prize on this, with jokes affectionately making fun of the Off Menu and Parenting Hell guys, and non-affectionately making fun of Ricky Gervais and Jimmy Carr (the latter of which I hesitated to mention on Tumblr because it’s a WIP and I wasn’t sure he wanted it recorded, until he did that joke while streaming on NextUp, that has to make it fair to discuss). There were also little references to various comedians in a story from filming Hold the Front Page, and to Luke McQueen breaking Nish’s finger during football. Oh, and a bit about Russell Brand. Not a fan.

I heard a few other comedians take shots at Ricky Gervais in their sets, mainly just in passing. Sarah Keyworth actually took one of those out of their set, taking a joke that used to be specifically about Gervais and making it about comedians doing bigoted Netflix specials in general (again, though, has to be fair game to reference the original version as they filmed it at Access Festival for NextUp). It’s the only bit of their set that I thought was stronger in January than in August, but it was a small thing, and the set had improved in a whole bunch of other ways since then, and was very very good to begin with. An excellent show.

More surprisingly, David O’Doherty got a fairly small, but seemingly genuinely frosty dig at Jimmy Carr in his show. It was one of those moments where DO’D plays with the effect of suddenly turning off his gentle persona just for a moment, and it worked well. Got a massive cheer from the crowd, especially for something so quick.

DO’D also had a brief bit slagging off those comedians who claim they’re edgy enough to talk about anything but want to shut down discussions of allegations. A few comedians brought those guys up. Eleanor Morton focused a bunch of her show on discussing how to reconcile having to go around in a community where everyone knows the predators are still there but no one’s allowed to say their names, she discussed a few specific events with guys at that festival but of course didn’t name them. She also referenced an award-winning comedian who once assaulted her, and based on some vague circumstantial evidence I think I know who that is, though I sort of hope I’m wrong. Sort of. Doesn’t really matter, I guess, since a terrible thing happened whether it was by the guy I think it is or not.

Kiri Pritchard-McLean did name a name, when discussing sexual predators in comedy, but of course immediately asked us not to repeat what she’d said because she can’t afford to get sued. Honestly, I was surprised when she said not to repeat it, because I’ve heard that guy’s name mentioned so much in connection with being a predator that I forgot it’s just a rumour, and not something you’re allowed to officially say. So to be clear, Kiri didn’t reveal any unknown secrets. Just a well known one.

…On a lighter note, Mat Ewins has videos that featured Richard Gadd and Jordan Brookes. That was fun. Jordan Brookes had the Crizards guy doing backup dancing in his musical, and some other sketch comedians whom I did not recognize.

On a less light note, Ed Night talked some shit about Tom Binns, which was a bit of a left-field choice, he tied it into stuff about messed up ways people talk about mental health (ie. arguing that mental health medication can turn you into a sex offender).

I have to admit, I did not start this post with the intention of listing all the comedians who referenced rampant getting away with misconduct within the comedy industry. I was just remembering that it was fun when Jordan Brookes turned up in that Ewins video, so I thought I’d do a post where I try to collate all the comedians whom I saw referenced in other comedians’ shows. I feel like if I did this list 10-15 years ago, it would have a lot more comedians telling stories about hanging out with their comedy friends, and a lot less of the harrowing stuff. Not because the harrowing stuff wasn’t happening then, but because it was talked about less, so it is definitely for the best that it’s getting dragged into the open now. Sort of. Only sort of. There are a lot of ways I find comedians’ descriptions of the “industry” familiar, as someone who’s been in an insular community, and I’m sure this is also familiar to anyone who’s ever been in a community of any kind, which is most people. Some of those relatable descriptions about workings of communities are fun, and some of them are the trap where everyone is allowed to condemn awful behaviour in general terms, including the people committing the behaviour, because no one is allowed to discuss specific instances or specific names of predators or victims, and if you do then you’re the problematic person who doesn’t respect confidentiality (even if the victims of what you’re describing want the story out there), so talking about it changes nothing. Anyway. I genuinely did not intend for this post to go in this dark a direction.

…Zoe Coombs Marr directed Lou Wall’s show and they both gave each other shoutouts about that, that was sweet. There’s a non-harrowing instance of comedians referencing each other. Lou Wall also discussed doing various things with other comedians, some harrowing and some not. I was trying to find a lighter side and ended up at Lou Wall’s decidedly non-light show.

Luke McQueen broke Nish Kumar’s finger while playing football. That’s pretty funny. And the crowd did really like it when DO'D took a shot at Jimmy Carr. Also funny.

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blametheeditor · 4 months ago

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Day 18 | Pirates

Gt July Prompt List

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When stranded on an uncharted underwater planet, alone and surrounded by hostile lifeforms, there are only two possible outcomes: adapt and survive, or die trying.

Spoilers: For the game Subnautica

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and violence. Mentions of drowning and suffocation. Referring to someone as 'it'.

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Have the ship he’s on crash on an alien planet while searching for another crew that went missing? Sure. It’s a less than 0.00001% chance, but when traveling in space, it’s always a thought on your mind for ‘what ifs’.

End up thinking you’re the only survivor because no one shows up at the rendezvous point within a month? Considering the fact it’s an uncharted ocean planet with leviathan class creatures, it wouldn’t be too big of a leap in logic.

Getting told by someone they’ve survived this long by befriending the massive beings that call this planet home?

That...that’s something Scott’s having a hard time believing.

The worst part is how genuine Fritz is, nothing but a pleading expression aimed up at him as the kid tries to reassure him they’re not in any danger. Despite there being a leviathan waiting right outside the cavern for them.

You can say Scott was an idiot for assuming Fritz just managed to come at just the right time where the predator hunting him decided to leave, even though he heard haunting sounds seemingly right outside just moments before. But he never would’ve thought the kid swam directly past it.

Before he can find the words, any words, Scott’s HUD flashes to alert him he’s losing oxygen. Looks behind him to see he moved too far away from the coral that’s been keeping him alive through this entire ordeal.

Ordeal. That doesn’t describe how much terror he’s been living in for the past hour. The past day. The entire month.

“How low are you on air?” he asks.

Fritz looks surprised at the change of subject. “Oh, um, I’ve got a rebreather. Did you find a brain coral in here?”

That’s what its called? Scott was expecting a better name for a literal lifesaver. “I did.”

He doesn’t bring up the fact the apparently ‘friendly’ leviathan chased him in here. That the only reason why he didn’t drown was because of the coral. He doesn’t want to yell at a kid for ever thinking a creature like the one outside could ever be trusted. Not when Fritz doesn’t look older than 15, maybe 16. It’s a miracle someone that young has survived this long on his own.

...which means he shouldn’t discredit the kid. Be skeptical, but anyone who has fabricated a rebreather and built a base deserves respect.

Scott takes a deep breath. “Explain what you meant by preferring a leviathan over a seamoth.”

“I haven’t had to worry about a stalker or boneshark for weeks,” Fritz begins earnestly, eyes wide and pleading. And even though Scott might not be familiar with the names, hearing ‘shark’ gives him a fairly clear picture. “They’re big, but they’re careful, and they won’t let anything come after us.”

Or, they’re waiting for you to become a proper meal.

Hold on they?

“There’s more than one?” Scott breathes, feeling the color drain from his face.

Fritz quickly waves his hands frantically. “There’s only two, and I trust ‘David’ more than ‘Vincent’!”

Okay, two things. One, that doesn’t sound as comforting as Fritz might think it is. Being told the kid trusts a leviathan more than another gives absolutely no sense of security.

Two, what the hell came out of his mouth.

It’s almost like Scott’s brain needed to restart when Fritz suddenly pronounced something long and deep in the middle of his rapid words of attempting to offer comfort.

“Can, can you repeat that?” the man breathes.

“Which part?”

Scott waves a hand. “The entire sentence.”

“I, um, trust ‘David’ more than ‘Vincent’?” Fritz repeats, looking confused as to why Scott’s confused. As if he’s not saying something otherworldly.

“That, the last word.”

“Oh! That’s his name, ‘Vincent’.”

Of course. The leviathan has a name. Not one in common, of course not. It just knows common. It speaks an entirely different language, too. One Fritz knows enough to have a name.

A hesitant look is given as Scott does nothing to hide the skepticism he’s feeling. “D-Did ‘Vincent’ say anything to you?”

The man has to bite his tongue from responding sarcastically. He’s upset with the leviathan that’s been taunting him about his death, not the naive kid who’s in over his head. “He said a few things. Nothing that was reassuring, though.”

Fritz looks puzzled. Suddenly swims closer to the opening. Before Scott realizes it, the kid’s calling out to the massive beings. “Hey ‘Vincent’, did you say you weren’t going to eat him?”

A painful shock of fear races up his spine at Fritz just blatantly talking about being eaten to something that easily can and most likely will. Feels a compulsion to yank the kid away from the opening, moves to do just that to make sure he’s not grabbed.

Freezes when instead of the cavern shaking or a shadow signaling a reach reaching forward, a voice rumbles. Not speaking in common, but he hears the same cadence used from before meant to be a name.

It earns a shocked expression from Fritz. “So you didn’t say you wouldn’t?”

This time, a second voice joins in. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it almost sounds like arguing.

What the hell is happening?

Scott stares as Fritz’s eyes grow wider and wider with every word spoken. The longer nothing happens, the more his terror from before thinking there would be consequences for making such comments slowly morphs into curiosity. Especially with the kid looking more horrified than afraid.

“What are they saying?”

“’Vincent’ says he, um, wasn’t really clear on his intentions,” Fritz begins, giving the perfect impression of a kicked puppy. “’David’s’ yelling at him.”

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he was expecting. He didn’t think he’d actually get a rough translation of the apparent words being spoken. “Is this normal?”

“The arguing, definitely. But ‘Vincent’s’ usually a bit more...straightforward? He’s never made me second guess him,” Fritz explains as he slowly begins to hunch in on himself. Suddenly seems unsure as his eyes refuse to meet Scott’s. “I-I’m so sorry he made you think he’d kill you.”

The tone of despair sends a knife through Scott’s heart. He can only stare at the sight of a kid taking responsibility for the actions of someone who, frankly, seems like nothing more than an asshole. A leviathan who can kill them both effortlessly, but an asshole none the less.

And here he is, the actual adult, forcing a teenager to handle something like this by himself. A situation he isn’t qualified for in the slightest. If a kid can mediate actual leviathans, though, then he at the very least can offer support. Worry about how he got to this point at a later time. Preferably somewhere safe where oxygen is abundant.

Scott clears his throat. “So you know what they’re saying?”

“There’s still a lot I don’t know,” is quietly admitted, though a small spark begins to grow. “But I know the important parts and use context clues for the rest.”

“And do they understand you?”

“’Vincent’ knows a lot of common. ‘David’ knows a little, but he prefers us using his language instead.”

He almost forgot, there’s two leviathans. One he had the displeasure of being trapped by, the other he has no way of knowing if they’re any better. But if he doesn’t want to leave Fritz alone with two catastrophic beings, then he’ll have to trust they won’t eat him at the very least.

He takes a deep breath. Holds it. “About this seabase.”

Fritz brightens up immediately. “It’s completely leviathan proof, not even ‘Vincent’ can dent it! It’s about 200 meters from here, but I brought the seamoth. You can drive it if you want and I can follow!”

That’s right, the smaller sub only has room for a single pilot, meaning one of them will be protected while the other is left at the mercy of the leviathans.

No way in hell is he letting Fritz swim out in the open.

“I’ve never piloted one, so I’d rather trust you at the controls,” Scott smiles even as his hands begin to tremble. “Anyway I can hang onto the outside?”

“I think so!”

And just like that, the kid, disappears. As soon as it clicks he just swam out of the cavern, Scott’s racing after him. “Wait!”

By the time he catches up to Fritz, the kid’s already gesturing toward the sub floating a few feet away and toward the horizon where he assumes the base is.

Scott finds himself going completely still when he realizes he’s out in the open and at the mercy of the leviathan that chased him. Looks up at a dozen eyes focused down at them, a predatory smile revealing the sharp teeth that could end him in seconds once he exited the safety of the rock.

And to his left, there’s a second leviathan. One who seems a little more human. Instead of long extensions on its back, however, large mandibles frame its face, a silent promise anything that gets too close will be grabbed and shoved into its massive maw. The fact it’s a little bigger and much broader than its companion doesn’t escape his attention.

Scott’s heart pounds as he waits for a haunting wail as he’s lunged at. For a fight to ensue over who gets to eat them. To have Fritz grabbed by one, him by another, the kid’s blinded trust having been used to their advantage.

But nothing happens.

“-and you can’t ‘hold’ the sub, ‘David’.”

Scott flinches as the mandibles that look strong enough to crush the sub almost directly beside it shifts as it huffs. That’s all the leviathan does. The other only watches.

What did I get myself into?

“You okay, Scott?” Fritz murmurs, the smile he had turning into a concerned frown the moment he turned to see the unmistakable terror.

“I’m fine,” he forces out.

It takes full minute for him to look away from the towering beings. Focuses on the sub that will bring them to a base promised to be leviathan proof. Carefully swims forward as he prays it won’t trigger an attack.

The two giants are eerily silent and still as Scott checks for handholds before finding a seat on one of the short wings. Positions himself where he can see Fritz once the teenager climbs inside, and what’s behind them so he can warn if a leviathan suddenly charges at them. Reaches forward to see if he can grab the antenna on the top of the sub, relieved that he can and therefore has something to use to keep from falling off the smooth metal.

“Think this will work?” Scott asks.

Fritz nods, his excitement coming back. “We can do a test real quick!”

Scott moves his arm so the kid and climb into the sub without issues. Goes tenses once the hatch closes at the realization he’s alone with the two leviathans.

The purple one makes an odd sound before rumbling something. The other smirks as it replies.

“I can still hear you!” Fritz calls, causing Scott to jump at the teenager’s voice. “I’ll withhold peepers if I have to!”

He was not expecting a look of panic followed by indignation to appear.

Scott sends an appreciative look down at the teenager. “You bribe them with fish?”

“Only sometimes,” Fritz grins. “Ready?”

“Just don’t go too quick.”

It’s a pleasant surprise when the seamoth is gently accelerated instead of thrown into full throttle. He never got the impression Fritz would pull something like that, but it’s hard to tell with teenagers. Though the ones who disregard other’s lives and feelings most likely wouldn’t have survived being stranded for this long. Wouldn’t have tried to befriend leviathans, that’s for sure.

After the sub travels about 20 meters and Scott becomes confident he won’t get pulled off by the current, the leviathans then finally move. A sight that fills him with awe, and fear.

The way they move through the water shows they’re made for this planet. It’s all one fluid motion from lying down to following after them. Absolutely massive beings that are nothing but silent as they trail behind.

It sends a chill up Scott’s spine at being the thing they’re focused on. Can effortlessly imagine how it’d look if they were to lunge. “That’s terrifying.”

“It still gets me sometimes,” Fritz agrees as he offers an encouraging smile.

Scott finds himself returning it, admittedly a bit awed the sheer amount of courage this kid has. Much too trusting for his own good, but who is he to judge. He’s just grateful he wasn’t robbed blind and then left to be eaten by a leviathan the moment he decided to trust the kid.

That would’ve been one hell of a scam. Reminds him of the horror stories involving ships getting boarded by robbers who take everything and leave no witnesses. Because even in space, there’s still such things as pirates.

Suddenly, the seamoth slowly decelerates, flooding him with panic as he watches the leviathans get closer and closer. Startles when the hatch to the sub opens as Fritz climbs out, only then realizing there’s a base sitting in front of him. One with a concerning amount of windows.

“Want to see the inside?” Fritz asks.

“Yes please,” Scott begins as he carefully swims away from the seamoth. Sends a fearful look behind him toward the quickly approaching leviathans before following the kid.

Breathes a sigh of relief when his feet find solid ground and his HUD stops flashing a warning.

He doesn’t get a full minute to recover before a hand is grabbing his arm, Fritz looking absolutely ecstatic as he gently tugs at the man to follow. “We’ll do proper introductions, and then I’ll get a coffee machine built!”

Scott has no choice but to allow himself be led through the hallway. Finds himself softly cursing when he realizes why there’s so many windows, unsure how to feel about the fact a leviathan can watch him whenever it’d like. Can only watch as both monoliths settle down on the seafloor, focusing on nothing except them.

Fritz is completely unaffected by the scrutiny as he excitedly gestures toward the two. “’David’ and ‘Vincent’.”

Scott can feel the weighted looks as he becomes the center of attention. God, he has to try and pronounce their names in front of them? “Avid and Int?”

“’David’,” the leviathan with mandibles growls as the purple one laughs.

“David,” the man snaps with a glare. He’s sorry, this is his first time trying to speak an alien language.

The other one smirks. “’Vincent’.”

Oh God, his voice can not go that deep. “Vince?”

His second attempt earns him a smile. It has him glancing down at Fritz to confirm if that’s a sign of approval, or a silent promise he’ll be killed at the first opportunity. All he’s given is an encouraging look before Scott’s gestured to. “And this is Scott!”

“Cot,” sounds like David gargling rocks. Then proceeds to glare at Scott, like it’s his fault for having an apparently difficult name to pronounce.

He’s starting to get the feeling he’s not going to like either leviathan.

“Scott,” Vincent chirps perfectly.

“Ott.”

“Scott.”

David growls lowly. “Scott.”

The man then turns to Fritz, ignoring the rumbles as what he assumes will become a familiar sound of arguing starts up. He’s just glad to no longer be the center of attention. “Where’s that coffee I was promised?”

#Onedrive let me down!#G/t July 2024 #Day 18 | Pirates #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #BTE writing #Subnautica AU #cw #content warning

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