#tango zero hour

[jt1674]

[todorokies]

WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE LOW - logan howlett

contents 𝝑𝑒 : fem!reader, nsfw, cockwarming, some fluff & angst (?) got mixed up in this, implied legal age-gap, grumpy old man logan (written with ‘logan 2017’ in mind but he isn’t sick), intimacy scares logan but he tries, 1.1k words

a/n 𝝑𝑒 : this is possibly ooc this is my first time writing for him please go easy on me! ,,,, inspired by the song ‘when the lights are low’ by the paragons

“read to me, please?”

the air in the quite spacious room suddenly turned chilled as life around seemed to come to a halt. the eccentric buzzing of traffic seemingly stilled allowing cicadas and woodland birds to make their presence known.

fireflies tangoing into the darkened night jiving the streets alongside citizens peacefully making their way back to their residences.

it’s unlikely for a friday night to be uneventful for logan. a usual run through of the crazed day would be servicing important higher ups in his limousine, taking them to a glamorous black-tie event or a rowdy group of middle aged ladies celebrating a bride-to-be’s last night of freedom.

it was also unlikely for the said man to be in your bedroom after the hours of eight, conversing with you as the pads of his calloused fingertips ghosted over the satin silk that graced upon your body.

his tensed furrowed eyebrows relaxed for once, as he willingly leaves his on edge and guarded demeanour at your porch.

you don’t know how he was able to get the night off and frankly, you aren’t too eager to find out. rather using your energy to melt in his presence and eventually molding into one as his hazel half lidded eyes cautiously watches you straddle him then ease yourself on his semi hard cock.

his eyes immediately screwed shut followed by a throaty low groan once you bottom out, sitting completely still, your pelvises touching one another. your eyes softly flutter at the pleasurable ache as your hands found refuge around his neck and into the brushy hairs on his nape.

your question rings through his ears like a faint echo. with a quirked eyebrow, he lifts his head off the antique bed frame to face you, sharply examining your features.

“you can’t be serious?” he exasperatedly huffed out closing his eyes again and leaned back against the headboard.

you narrowed your eyes at him, “i’m dead serious. why else would you bring your glasses if you knew you had zero intentions of doing any reading?”

he doesn’t miss a beat, “i keep 'em on me at all times.” his voice is flat, not showcasing any emotion to give you more material.

you sigh, your lips pursed into a thin line while glancing at logan’s salt and pepper tufts of hair, allowing silence to fall amongst the two of you, not willing to continue the small squabble for a rather nonsensical request on your end.

that’s until you hear him scoff and mutter under his breath, “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

with a sharply slow roll of your hips you clamp down onto him, feeling his cockhead prods at your spongy spot. he loudly hisses through his teeth due to the sudden sensation, panting slightly as his fist balls up the sheets.

“you should be glad i haven’t hidden them yet, you old fuck,” you coyly beam.

logan’s brows knitted together as he shakily exhaled a deep breath to maintain —what’s left of— his composure, eyes stuck on your figure. great, you’re mocking him now, but he did have it coming he supposes.

his next movements are calculated, hesitant and uncertain as he reaches for your waist. yes, he has touched you before from head to toe, but there is always a sick gutted feeling of his that you’ll easily wither away in his arms leaving his dread to consume his soul once again.

his grip on your waist is loose, a mere nudge from a ghost, until you cuff your own hands over his to reassure his grip on you, his gaze softens.

“what do you want from me tonight?” his voice comes out as a honey dipped whisper, not what you were expecting as a rebuttal. it throws you off course, breath hitching before lightly nibbling on your bottom lip.

what exactly do you want from him tonight? when you received his sudden call five minutes before his arrival your nerves were over the moon. despite being in a relationship with logan for many months now, he always gave you an unorthodox reason to be nervous.

logan is intense. from how he carries himself to his appearance, his gaze all the way down to his speech patterns, the venom he spits out to his enemies or how he loves and cares for others so deeply; flesh, bones and all.

his love intimidates you —which is ironic in the sense that he could say the same exact thing about you— so truthfully, you don’t know what you want from him. only to be close enough to touch him, smell him, and to strip away his clothes to feel his skin onto yours.

but you choose not to say any of this, “shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

he dryly chuckles. the type of chuckle that reverberates against your own body from close proximity. you always loved when he laughed.

“i suppose you’re right, i am your guest after all.”

his larger hands begin to caress your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumb, “why do you want me to read to you?” genuine curiosity is laced in his tone. he stares up at you patiently awaiting for your answer and you now feel like a deer caught in headlights.

his undivided attention makes you shift against him causing the both of you to softly groan then you shrug, because you truly don’t know why yourself.

“i thought it would be a nice thing for us to do.” you nervously start to pick at the skin that surrounds your nails.

he simply hums in acknowledgment and soon captures your hands in his to stop you from fidgeting, “next time, bub, i just want to enjoy this at the moment.”

you break out into an earnest smile, your hands soon snaking its way out of his grasp to place them back on the base of his neck, his hands soon moves to your waist with much more confidence this time around.

“sooo, does this mean you’ll take another day off to visit me again?” your big doe eyes lit up at the possibility of spending another quiet friday night with logan by your side.

he feigns irritation, “who said i took the day off? i just didn’t have anything better to do.”

you playfully shove his shoulder before passionately locking lips with him. he’s tentative to your reactions as he bores his entire life force into you, a match has been light in the pit of his stomach as you both explored each other’s mouths.

he grunts. wanting more, craving more until you pull away, a small string of saliva follows before separating.

“well, next time when you have nothing better to do you’ll just have to read me pride and prejudice.”

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[would-they-listen-to-that]

How to Make a Self-Ship Playlist (when you're too afraid to ask)

hey there! you! yeah, you, lurking in the f/o tag, i see you. so you wanna make a self-ship playlist but don't know where to start? welcome to "would-they-listen-to-that" radio, ran by a self-shipping veteran! this post is a special request from an anonymous caller, so let's get into it! how do we make a self-ship playlist when we have zero idea what we're doing?

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP ONE: BLORBO ROULETTE ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

The first step is to pick someone who catches your eye! Who's that fictional character lurking in the back of your mind? Who have you thought about snuggling with to distract yourself from the monotony of a three-hour geometry lecture? Whose tag did you take a "casual stroll" down last night? If you've got someone in mind from those questions alone, there's your target!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP TWO: DATING ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

No, not that kind of dating. I'm talking about historical dating! The time period your character comes from influences the music they listen to! Are they a vampire from the late 1980's? Try some early trad-goth bands and hair metal! Are they a magical girl from the early 2000's? Try some y2k girl groups and rnb! "But mod, what if my character is anachronistic, and their whole shtick is they act like a 1940's jazz singer yet they live in 2020?" If you somehow catapulted Ella Fitzgerald into the nowadays, don't be afraid to be anachronistic with your playlist! Billie Holiday can go right next to Billie Eilish!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP THREE: SOUNDING IT OUT ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

If your f/o has one, listen to their soundtrack for inspiration! What genres are present in their soundtrack? If they sing, in what style? What do they sing about? What kinds of music reflect their environment? If the character has any musical inclination or is a fan of certain musicians, take that into account! If your blorbo is a canon Weezer fan or sings along to Frank Sinatra, that gives a strong basis of what they listen to.

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP FOUR: ULTRASOUND ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

That's right, you gotta look inside yourself. You're a character in this self-ship too. It takes two (at least) to tango! Find songs that are meaningful to you. What types of music do you enjoy? What songs do you believe are integral to your relationship with your blorbo? What songs describe your feelings towards them? If you have an enemies-to-lovers relationship, look into songs that have a similar theme. Don't be afraid to explore new music too! Who knows what you might find? There's always an opportunity to hear your new favorite song!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP FIVE: BE FREE ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

Seriously, cringe culture is dead. If it's not, I'm giving you and your f/o hammers so you can kill it. You're allowed to have fun with fiction. The FBI isn't gonna swarm your house because you wanted to give Batman a kiss. It sounds cheesy, but the first (and only step really) to making a self-ship playlist is to have fun and be yourself. You don't need to listen to this post! I'm not the be-all end-all of self-shipping! Whether you take my advice is totally up to you! There really are no wrong answers here!

If you made it this far into the yap session, thank you so much for reading! I hope this advice serves you well! If not, that's okay too! As always,

thanks for dialing in!

[existaantbeing]

I love how in false and ren's server tour they travel for ages and do so much, yet by the end of it have made net zero accomplishments. They go and steal a 'manbag' from tango, hoping it will make them look like salespeople. They then plan to try and sell someone a multipass apparently programmed on a 1988 gameboy. Unfortunately they cant find anyone anywhere. After travelling across half the server, and briefly stopping to trap 3 phantoms in boats for seemingly no reason, the only people they see are mumbo afk, grian who immediately logs out, and gem whose voice mod doesnt work. So they jump to the only logical conclusion, which is that the manbag is cursed, and return it back to tango. The tour ends with them in exactly the same place that they started, having gained nothing, learnt nothing and having wasted an hour. Im sure they will do the exact same thing in a week's time, because they are incapable of interacting without devolving into pointless nonsense. They are the greatest duo of all time

[definitelynotshouting]

grian's new episode being an hour long is both a blessing and a curse bc on the one hand WE FEAST and on the other hand i (autistic, chronic backseat gamer, also a tango viewer familiar with the game) had to sit there FOR AN HOUR watching him flail around in circles while setting off every single shrieker in level one like his sole mission in life was to get mauled by a vex. never have i sympathized so hard with the ghost experience than while watching someone on youtube with zero pattern-recognition attempt to navigate a deadly maze

and i havent even BEGUN scar's ep yet

[auriidae]

LIFESTUCK ?!?! (pt 2 here!) (pt 3)

i was sick a couple days ago and spent like 12 hours straight doing nothing but classpecting life series characters and then was like Yeah i have to draw this now. so here's some sillies 👍 (super long classpect ramble under cut because i spent far too long on it not to share hfshjf)

quick note: i really really love @/classpect-navelgazing's theories and used them for a lot of the ideas here. go check their blog out it rules :]

ok you guys flower ranchers (scott tango jimmy) are making me so insane for this au specifically because of this idea i had about doom/life players. doom in true canon is related to inevitability, fate, and knowledge of the specific rules that keep the characters trapped within their story, right. and life is sort of related to healing, physically and mentally, within the confines of the game. so within this au, the aspect of life refers to the rules within the game that the players can see and are aware of (last life’s trading lives system + boogeyman, third life’s soulmate mechanic, secret life’s tasks, etc.). life players have some amount of dominion over these elements (depending on their class, of course). doom on the other hand refers to everything surrounding the games (stuff like admin powers, the world barrier, and whatever happens to the players after they die). 

as a mage of doom, scot (his name is so funny to me. like yeah he sure is) has a bunch of intrinsic knowledge about the way the games function on a logistical level. he’s like a guy who read the script a while ago and forgot all the characters’ names but knows the basic plot and how it’s going to end. or who knows all the ins and outs of tech crew and for whom the apparent magic of the show for the audience is lost on, since he knows how it’s being done. the thing is, scot isn't especially able to act on this knowledge during the game. what director wants someone in the audience — or one of the actors — taking all the magic out of the show, spoiling how it works and how it ends? no, it’s best if they keep that knowledge to themselves — and so scot’s narratively unable to affect the stories of those around him, even his close friends who he’d want to help. he’s aware of this, of course, which makes him more than a little depressed, as he can see the futility of it all and can’t even explain to anyone what’s going on and how the game works. (the only story he’s able to affect, of course, is his own. which. depressed doom player + mage martyr complex + guy who Really cares about his friends is not necessarily a good combination.)

the amount of stock i put in the idea of gendered classes is close to zero so tangoe gets to be a maid of life because ohh my goodness. i like the theory (thanks classpect-navelgazing) of life as “the aspect of affluence,” where life players usually enter the game with some kind of material wealth or status that helps their position in some way. i also like the idea that maid players start the game with a surplus of their aspect but often end up feeling as if they’re only seen as a provider of that specific thing as a result of this, and so end up longing for something else instead. this primarily applies to last life tango because that’s the season i’m most familiar with lol, but i thought the way he started out with so many lives there and quickly dwindled as a result of everyone taking from him and only him was Really interesting. mans has all the luck of the game he could need, but only wants friends to actually be able to live with. being a life player also ties into his little gambling games and things (again, dominion over stuff within the overarching game/story, but nothing beyond that).

then we get to jimi (again fantastic name). the basic premise of an heir is that they’re played by their aspect, right and Oh Boy is jimmy played by life in the life series. i don’t personally know much about anything he’s done other than heehoo canary guy but along with the previously stated points it’s So fun to see him as a life player because it allows for some really clearly contrast between the way he interacts with tangoe and scot based on their aspects. i really like the idea of scot being like “you’re a life player jimi. it's in your name. the game is not going to let you die” and jimi like “you really think so? aw thanks man” neither of them knowing that dying as a life player in this game is literally like in the job description. (ok. i kind of feel like i’m letting jimi down by basing his story so far around other people.. but this is just for fun and i can always change it later)

(also i could easily have put tangoe and jimi as doom players too but for the fact that i don’t think they necessarily see through the game as much as scot does (or at all). and so life it is.)

feel free to ask me questions abt them!!! i have so many thoughts about this bro 

[multi-fandomdisaster]

Wilbur

Do Wilbur

Please

Gimme Wilbur Cross hcs

YOU, MY FRIEND, HAVE OPENED THE FLOODGATES. I LOVE WILEY SO MUCH.

Before the portal, this man could really only be described as “delightfully insufferable.” He was, to put it simply, a general sunshine character, and you either loved his energy or you hated it. He was also very touchy, too, showing casual affection via excessive amounts of touch (lots of arm and shoulder and back touches, taps, and pats)

Also before the portal, his favorite apple was sweet tango

Bisexual pre-portal, aroace post-portal

This man is so f**ked, inside and out, mentally and physically. He’s not even a man anymore. If you were to open this guy up, you’d find a disgusting mish-mash of horrors and teeth and eyes and writhing tentacles and definitely NOT human organs.

His skin is cold to the touch and a bit clammy

Writes the number zero with a slash through it

Animals go absolutely nuts whenever he walks by because they can just TELL that something isn’t right with him

Will casually throw sniggle words/slang into his regular speech without thinking, which tends to trip people up

Physically cannot think deeply about much of anything anymore, because if he starts thinking about things, he’ll start thinking about the Black and White, and then his brain will start trying to make sense of it all over again, and that never ends up good. Wiggly eventually got tired of him going effectively catatonic whenever he’d start thinking about anything, so he just straight up removed his ability to have deep thought. It works out pretty for Wiggly, making Wiley a LOT more willing to follow orders without question

Contrary to popular belief, Wilbur didn't immediately crumble when he went through the portal. He actually had one hell of a strong will, but it clearly wasn't enough to save him from eventually breaking down under the pressure and influence of the Black and White. He was really only gone for about an hour, but to him, it felt like a little over year, if not more.....a whole year surrounded by madness and nothing and eldritch entities that were forever burned into his brain and the growing doubt that he'd been abandoned and left to die. The Wiley that stepped out of the portal that day and the Wiley we know now are very different, too. Back then, he was a lot more jittery and fragile because he hadn't yet learned how to cope with everything he'd seen and experienced, his only lifeline being these colorful gods who promised to take the pain away so long as he devoted himself to them.

[riacte]

Y’know, I wonder if anyone genuinely got into Hermitcraft because of Decked Out 2? Like, with close to zero knowledge of the server or DO’s development, maybe the Tango vid popped up on recommend, you click into it and holy shit this is done in Minecraft SURVIVAL? With the voices? Sound effects? Custom items? And there’s a competition that you can follow live? Hours and hours of runs from different people you can binge? Hell yeah!

And ngl, I think it would be fun to get into Decked Out as a newbie especially in the heyday when someone was streaming basically every day, Tango’s phase updates, the detailed spreadsheet, the prominent runners emerging, all of this happening live— like it would be so much fun to presume these artefacts are randomly named but they’re actually based after members of the server that you do not know and not recognise, but hey, one step at a time! Slowly memorising the names of hermits based on the Easter eggs about the artefacts. At first feeling overwhelmed by all the different heads at the scoreboard but slowly recognising the standouts and what they’re known for— perhaps they’re “washed up”, perhaps they use a certain card, perhaps they search for the eggs. Binging run after run and learning about the runners as they explore the dungeon. Matching eggs to hermits to artefacts to hermits again and their voices and their channels. Catching up on hour long vods and learning about what the hermits do outside of running. Watching Tango’s construction process videos knowing exactly how it turns out in the end.

DO2 was such a dominating part of HC that recontextualising them as “Decked Out players” instead of “hermits” kinda makes sense during that era if you’re new and know nothing and you’re genuinely only here for the DO competition? Lots of hermits uploaded their runs independent from their episodes so you could watch a bunch of runs and get to know the player without clicking into a single episode.

Because if I randomly caught sight of an impressive, gorgeous, and addicting game that popped up on YouTube and it was the host of a months-long competition between the developer’s friends (and each friend having their unique style / flair) and you get to watch it unfold live pretty much free of charge, watching players collect the items needed to unlock lower levels, counting scores every week, feeling a sense of community with Twitch chat— yeah I would get hooked. Even without any prior knowledge.

[writingdevil]

Farm [Hermittober24 Day Twelve]

( Prompt list created by @collierose1 )

When Tango builds and creates things,his passion burns into fuel for him to keep going,his mind zeroed in on bringing his ideas to life,to take a step back and simply marvel at the fruit of his labour.

His head can fall into a twisting inferno of insanity and chaos,but Tango welcomes these feelings, because it was those feelings that helped to push him to keep going.

But now though?As he's building Decked Out Two?The only feeling driving him is fear.A fear of sleep.

Because when he dreams,he's being forced to feel a passion that genuinely scares him.

The dream is always the same.He's always standing in the middle of this farm,his hair and clothes back to his signature red,yellow and orange.

He doesn't recognise this farm,but a sense of familiarity and comfort washes over him whenever he sees it.Like hours and hours of love and hard work had been put in to make it what it was.

He can hear cows and chickens,and all it takes is a quick sweep of the area to tell that this place was someone's home.Tango's home.

But that's ridiculous,right?Tango doesn't even recognise this place-how can he feel a pull towards it,to want to step inside and never leave,that everything would be perfect in this little farm?

Why does he feel that way?

He tries to move around in this dream,but he's always scared of what he's going to find,but thankfully,he never gets the chance to,as something more strange happens.

The door of the house opens,and Tango is met with a bundle of sunshine.Literally.

A figure steps out,and immediately makes their way to Tango.He's never had a dream where the figure doesn't go to Tango first.

The figure is tall,taller than Tango,and silent,as they approach,movements slow but not threatening, although that's only because Tango never feels in danger around this mysterious figure,only safe.

The figure gets closer until they're standing right in front of him,and he realises that the figure isn't made of sunshine,but made of feathers.Golden feathers.

The feathers shine so bright and Tango's hand always itched to reach out and run his fingers through the feathers,but he stops himself,for fear of burning the beautiful feathers with his touch. Then a voice in his head will remind him,'You wouldn't burn them.You know this.'

Then Tango is left to sit in the horror that his mind is keeping secrets from him.

This dream scares Tango.It fills him with a warmth that is too peaceful, too comforting,too nice,and Tango doesn't know how to deal with a warmth that he's never felt before.

But he has,because despite his best efforts,his face always smiles at this figure,and his heart starts beating faster and he wants it all to stop because he doesn't understand these feelings!

Joy,frustration,fatigue,even mild madness-Tango knows what they feel like,and he knows what situations will make him feel like that,but he can't understand how this little farm can make him feel so alive.

But it's not a farm,is it?No,there's a better name for this place,but Tango is too scared to figure it out.

Sometimes,the dream ends there.Other times, Tango will blink and the scene changes drastically, and then Tango will be consumed with a feeling that he has felt before-rage.

The golden figure is gone,and the farm is burning down.

Tango's voice is screaming and cursing,but it all feels muffled in his own head.The sky is dark,and smoke is circling around Tango as he feels pure, molten fury at the farm being burnt down.

Tango doesn't understand why.It had only been a simple house,made of wood and stone,with not even a big redstone machine within it.Its loss shouldn't of been a big deal to him.

But Tango is beyond furious,flames sparking and flying out of his hair as he screams out in grief for this farm,this home that they had built,and now it was being burnt down for what?What actions justify destroying this house of love?

Tango always wants to run forward in the dream, but he can never tell if it's to save the farm or to attack the culprit.It doesn't matter,because he never gets a chance to.

The second he feels arms wrap around him from behind,it suddenly unlocks all the fire in his core, and he's screaming and shouting and struggling against the hold,unknowingly burning the figure in his rage and grief.

Too much.

Too much confusion and burning that Tango doesn't understand,so much so that it makes him go insane,the fact that he couldn't figure it out.He's just left to burn in this love and the struggles of it, and he just wishes it would just snuff him out already.

But then the figure behind him actually speaks and says his name."Tango!Snap out of it!Tango!"

The voice is full of worry and concern,and won't let Tango go,no matter how much he fought.Tango feels hot tears streaking down his face,hating himself for how scared the person sounded,and how Tango was only contributing to that.

He feels his heart thumping wildly for this person. Why?Why should Tango care about any of this?It was just a stupid farm and an unknown stranger, but he knew it meant so much more,and it angered him that he couldn't figure out why.

Then there are soft kisses being pressed to his temple,and the voice is whispering,"Tango-Tango calm down!Look at me-look at me,Tango."

He wants to.He so badly wants to.He wants to know what this past life was,and who this kind person was,that wasn't afraid of his flames.He wants to know why.

But the fire still burns,and the golden feathers still torment him,and Tango knows he'll never get his answer,that this voice did burn up and die,and now Tango's brain was just taunting him-with this stupid place and its stupid farm,and Tango can't take it anymore.

Go home.

He wants to-but where is his home?He can't find it anymore.Where was his home?Where did they go?

It's over.

No-no,no,no!It can't be over!There was-There was too much love for it to be over!Tango wants to understand!He wants to learn and understand those golden feathers,and then maybe he'll figure out what he loves the most about them!

He called this place a farm,but that wasn't right, was it?They called it something else.What was it?

A r-

A ra-

Then he wakes up.

So now Tango tries to not sleep anymore,because he can't take seeing what could've been,but lost.

Maybe he should talk to Ren about this.He's heard that he's been hearing voices as well.

[paddockbunny]

It wasn’t supposed to be like this - Part 2

Summary : You were married. You were supposed to be happily married to the man of your dreams and YET, you just cannot seem to quit Daniel f*cking Ricciardo, no matter how hard you seemed to try. Rating : 18+ Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader Word Count : 1,140 Trigger Warnings : cheating trope!!!! Discussion about sex

💞Authors Note: this might be waffling idk! Tell me if it’s rubbish 🙏🏼 also SONG INSPIRATION : El Tango de Roxanne - Moulin Rouge BROADWAY MUSICAL! Listen to Aaron Tviet’s voice in that and tell me it doesn’t do something to you!!!!!!

There’s something strange about sneaking into your own house as an adult. It’s hard to put into words but it feels so uneasy, so agitating and completely unnerving. And no matter how many times you found yourself doing it as of late, it never really got any better and you felt wracked with anxiety whenever you needed to behave like an unruly teenager and sneak into your own home.

Tonight was no different. The only change was your controlling, arrogant prick of a husband was still awake and very much ready to pick a fight.

“Where have you been?” Nico’s voice came bellowing as you stood at the bottom of your staircase to remove your shoes. His unexpectedly loud voice echoed around the place and it sent a sigh rumbling through your lips before you could stop it from happening. Why was he awake? Was he up waiting on you?

He was certainly angry that much was true.

Fucking prick.

God you hated him.

“We just ran over a little.” “A little?” His tone was utterly mocking and sarcastic. You couldn’t help but feel a little sick to your stomach at the way he was looking at you. “It’s 4:30 am.” He pointed out. “Yeah?” You looked at the gold Cartier watch that sat on your wrist and faked surprise. “Lost track of time” you state with a shrug and followed it up with; “Why are you still up?” “To make sure YOU, MY wife, came home!” He feigned worry. He was the furthest thing from worried you could get and the look upon his face - the one that usually made you feel very uneasy - was beginning to scare you. Nico’s voice was laced with pure warning. He wanted you to know you crossed the line and he was trying hard not too get into it in the small hours of the morning.

When you left Daniel (grudgingly) you had been praying the whole time that Nico would have been in bed and sound asleep. Since this thing with Daniel began you developed a habit of not only lying about where you were, but also where you would sleep after slinking home. You needed your time to process all of the emotions and hormones running rampant around your body. But there were also some nights that your temperature raised again at the sheer thought of the way Daniel had touched you, the way he had fucked you hard and mercilessly or the other times when it was slow, emotional, carnal. On those nights your hands wandered across your body and usually down into your panties to make yourself orgasm to the thought of a man who was certainly not your husband. You had zero shame about it. On some occasions you were surprised Nico hadn’t burst in the door upon hearing you and what you were up too. Poor bastard would have thought you were fantasising about him and all of his basic, bland skills in the bedroom.

Sadly, tonight the opportunity to do that was not an option. It was not one of those nights. After demanding you get upstairs and get into bed because - direct quote - “I’m so fucking furious with you that you need to just get into bed and go to sleep without arguing. This is getting ridiculous now. You’re not a teenager. Stop behaving like one.”

You were forced into sleeping beside your husband while he fell asleep and snored obnoxiously loudly. His slightly clammy arm was haphazardly swung over your chest and it felt like a dead weight. But then again, he was a dead weight in general really. You tried to ignore the twisting feeling your stomach was doing - the one that always seemed to appear whenever you had to be this close to him.

You met Nico when you were too young to know better. You started working at Sky Sports F1 as a runner the year after he became a regular presenter on the team. He took a shine to you almost instantly and the truth was you were bowled over by how handsome he was and the fact he had been a world champion in a sport you had grown up with but mostly because he paid you so much attention and made you feel like the only girl in the world. By summer break he managed to get you a promotion and celebrated by asking you to spend your summer with him in Monaco where put you in a position where you were so love bombed by him you slept with him almost immediately.

Back then, you didn’t realise how much he had used you and abused the power and wealth dynamics to get what he wanted, you into bed. Now, it turned your stomach to think how he manipulated you and then continued to manipulate you by giving you things that you probably wouldn’t have been able to get for yourself, within as little as 12 months. You ended up an on air journalist within a year of being at the station and it was all because Nico but he knew it and started to make sure you knew it too. It started in a lighthearted joking way but ended up how it was now, with him always borderline ready to argue with you.

You had no idea how you never wised up before it became too late. He proposed within 14 months of knowing you and the pair of you got married only 4 months later because he didn’t want to wait. You were only in your 20s. You were supposed to be out, living life, enjoying your success but instead, you were hounded constantly about giving up the same job he had gotten for you to impress you, so you could give him babies. But the babies never came because you refused to gave up your job and secretly kept taking your birth control. Five years passed since you married him and the only thing that has grown in your relationship was your hatred of him and his controlling, demanding behaviour.

It’s why, a year ago when at an end of season party Daniel randomly confessed he found you hot and wished you were single so he could have asked you out, you acted on pure instinct. You remembered having a huge argument with Nico just before leaving for the event so it was no surprise with how awful things were at home that you lost all sense of self control. You disappeared with Daniel, left Nico there alone and you had no remorse or regret when Daniel took you back to his hotel and fucked your brains out. And lying to your husband the next morning was easier than you ever thought it would be. A moment of madness would have exposed you. One singular moment would have been all it took to tell him. You were THAT cock drunk from Daniel’s magnificent cock that you would have risked everything then and there to expose your little fling. But then Daniel turned a one night stand into something more by asking you for a simple drink before he went back to Australia for winter break. Fucking you in the restaurant’s bathroom was not on the agenda but it was the hottest thing you had ever done. His hand covering your mouth to stop your moans from getting too loud. The burn of your thighs from trying to keep yourself up as you came. But most importantly, how you allowed him to release inside of you - something you never liked Nico doing.

And then it all seemed to spiral and snowball from there.

Sexting became the norm between the pair of you. Sending naughty (borderline offensively rude pictures) to each other whenever the need got too much and phone calls that consisted mainly of heavy breathing and stifled moans when the naughty pictures had their desired effect graduated into unashamed video chats. Those quickly evolved into booking random hotel rooms to fuck in without Nico - or whoever Daniel was “dating” at the time - finding out.

Except one day Nico would find out and you needed to be prepared for that.

Daniel needed to be prepared for that.

He needed to be sure that he really, truly did want you.

[citrusscale-remastered]

H.I.V.E. Birthday Bundle - Lucy Dexter

Picrew Maker

PLAYLIST: (Image: Impression Sunrise — Claude Monet)

Once Upon a December (Instrumental)

Chorégraphie du départ — Daprinski

engravings — Ethan Bortnick

Me and the Devil — Soap&Skin

The Ballad of Mona Lisa — P!atD

Cell Block Tango

Control — Halsey

killer queen

Glitter & Gold — Barns Courtney

Wait — NoMBe

Way down We Go — KALEO

Serenade for Strings in E Major, Op 22, Tempo di Valse — Dvořák

Vienna — Billy Joel

The Nutcracker: Pas de deux — Tchaikovsky

FANART: (Blue, Eight of Pentacles)

HEADCANONS/PROMPTS:

HC: Eldritch Creatures Sinistres (is this already canon? Maybe a little bit). Her skin is just a little too pale, her mouth doesn’t move exactly right with her words, you could’ve sworn she wasn’t there a second ago, and hey… when was the last time she blinked?

Prompt: A lot of the Sinistres with powers are adopted. They just find them out there and YOINK (a la The Umbrella Academy however I only watched season 1 take this with a grain of salt)

Prompt: Something something both the Contessa and Lucy chose to sacrifice themselves in an incredibly destructive fiery end to save a lot of people

Prompt: Lucy survives Zero Hour without anyone knowing (including her) and kind of just wanders into the local town, amnesiac, confused af. A solid while later Shelby finds her Clark Kent-ing it out in the world on her Illegal Globetrotting Fun

HC: Lucy definitely had some voice training. What I’m hearing is that she can sing opera (👀 Opera Singer AU anyone????)

HC: She cannot pose for photos At All. Dorky ass peace sign.

AU where everyone graduates H.I.VE. as normal and when everyone’s out on the streets of Italy, Lucy gets recognized because she’s actually kind of royalty (also she has a Wikipedia page)

HC: Lucy is usually seen as pretty mature and kind of shy, but every once in a while she’ll make a 69 joke or some other kind of innuendo that Shelby high fives her for

HC: Lucy gets some snake bite piercings right after she gets her wisdom teeth out at the H.I.V.E. Doctor with a clean(?) safety pin. Miraculously, they do not get infected.

Only child Lucy got real good at braiding her own hair. The five of them hang out and talk shit and braid each other’s hair. (Otto gets that fun little two year old spiky ponytail)

crack prompt: Lucy and Anna somehow meet.

Lucy: Stop killing people!

Anna: You’re not my mom!

Lucy: *gasp* I WOULD’VE NEVER SPOKEN TO MY MOTHER LIKE THAT

alrighty that’s all I got. THANK YOU MITCH @dr-nero-is-god FOR MAKING THIS EVENT

[wireman-au]

A list of concerning things regarding Tango:

Impulse is his civilian friend. Impulse has an implant. Tango is about as strict about keeping the personal and professional separate as Etho, so either he acted wildly out of character or someone else did that

As of five days ago, Tango thought the Wireman project would be inactive enough that he'd have time off. This is basically the opposite of what happened, where a new feature (Voices and whatever else) went live in the field

Tango has been out of contact for five days. Your group is still not done with basic cleanup. This timeline does not line up at all

Tango himself has an implant. Other people were definitely involved with this, because you physically can't operate on yourself. This is bad news for you specifically because whoever was responsible cares more about their thing then making sure that the guy that can fix your implant won't be incapacitated by an implant

There has been precisely zero management of Tango's civilian friend group. This would be an oversight if his friend group was normal. Tango's friends are not normal. Tango's friends are so not-normal that this feels less like an oversight and more like enemy action

Tango himself has been preoccupied for the last... 4 hours? 5? however long the voices have been online. Considering the circumstances whatever is demanding his complete attention is almost certainly Wireman related

Someone left a bloody knife in his kitchen???

Someone left a classified document in his pile of mail

Whoever staged the house generally did an absolutely terrible job

You frown as Etho pulls off the highway towards the house. You're beginning to realize the voices didn't know Tango was in charge, which is stupid. How else did they get here, huh? Still, the people willing to give you massive amounts of information are helpful, if any of that information can actually be trusted.

You aren't sure this should be trusted.

...you love Etho. You love Cleo. You should probably tell them about this. You aren't sure you should while you're still being listened to by voices. No offense, of course, but it seems... bad, to try to talk this through where they can hear. That hasn't stopped being a thing that's true.

That being said, you do have an appropriate joke for this:

"Boy, you guys have never worked for the government before if you think 'inefficient, bad way to do a thing' is weird!"

"Yeah, the saying's 'good enough for government work' for a reason," Cleo immediately picks up on.

Etho remains silent.

He never appreciates your jokes enough for how incredibly funny you are, honestly.

[candiedspit]

Banana Daiquiri

It was summertime; hot tango and swedish malt. 

I was twenty five, a lonely space cadet with no return mission. I floated through the mist of pristine, magic light. I wore a cocktail dress to the corner store because I could. Artificial diamonds shuddered on my wrist while a thousand hot words licked the walls of my mind every single second. I was very alive most days. 

For work, I took care of Gem, a bright seven year old whose favorite color was a carcinogenic green. The kid was mute. And in lieu of a proper schedule–some of the families I’d worked for before treated their children as hostages to time, every hour had a name–I was given the simple task of entertaining Gem until her parents got home from work. 

This meant long walks to the playground, afternoon movies, aquariums, library trips. I liked Gem. Her long sheet of blonde hair which ran down to her stomach and flew in the wind. Her penchant for worms and dirt. I could tell she knew more than I did, picked up on the subtle tones of the universe.

Each morning, I picked her up from her house and we headed out. Out to the avenues. Out to run out fingers along the brisk voltage of morning. Out to the world. It was the third week of June. It had been raining on and off for several days. But at last, the skies were clear and the sun was beautiful, dazzling rays falling to the ground. Gem held my hand. 

Gem, it’s a wondrous morning, I said as we walked. 

I held her backpack on my shoulder. 

It’s the kind of morning you could weep over, I continued. 

The kind you dream about when you’ve been inside for too long, marinating in all of your perceived misery piss. The kind you didn’t think you’d ever see again. But here it is. 

I love the summers most because every horrible thing you did in the winter is gone. Every tantrum. Every snarl. Every shard of glass. Gone, gone, gone.

Eleven blocks. 

We walked until we reached Gem’s favorite park, the one with the long, twisted slide and sprinklers and swings. Gem let go of my hand and ran to the swings. I sat down on a bench and drank from my water bottle. After this, we’d go to get lunch. Strawberry ice cream. Soda, sandwiches sliced down the middle. And then maybe we’d saunter down the boardwalk and play some of the games they have there. 

I’ve always gotten along well with kids. I think I understand them. The bossa nova of the world, each little thrill and dissapointment. How you can feel gladness singe your fingertips. How the sun shines for the first time every time. 

How confusing the grown ups are. 

After work, I usually went to my favorite bar or called the man I’m seeing. Or both at once. It depended on how tired I was, how long the day had been. That evening, I went to the bar. On third street, it was a run-down bar that never had more than twenty occupants. I sat at the bar and ordered my usual; a banana daiquiri. The bartend asked how my day was. I said it was fine and left the conversation at that. I watched the small television above his head. A newscast about the bombings in Turkey and gasoline prices. All things that didn’t touch me. The universe only existed as I could see it. I got one more drink, paid and left. 

On my walk back home, the skies were bloodied and vicious and beautiful. Clouds ate at one another like twins in the womb. I was wearing a long blue dress. I felt like taking off my skin. I wanted the wind. I wanted everyone to love me. The buildings seemed enormous, metallic titans left to rot in the ground after some fantastic war. I was living in the land of zero, the peace spread across the land like a woman on a bed. 

I got home too soon. 

✴

Gem stopped speaking at around three years old. 

It was January and outside, snow filled the gaps of the city like glue. It dawned upon her parents as syrup spreads across the table–the silence. No babbles through the hallways. No requests for sippy cup. No mama. When her mother would urge her to speak, she would look into her face with her insect green eyes, and then look away. Gem’s pediatrician said she would grow back into speech. Had something happened? 

Nothing happened, her mother said. Nothing has happened. 

Gem had always concerned her parents. During holidays–out on the white, dense beach in Spain or with her many spritely cousins at Christmas–Gem preferred to play alone. She could never look at the camera when pictures were taken. And she had this–her parents called it a habit–habit of doing a sort of kangaroo hop when she was excited or nervous or anything at all. Sometimes she wringed her fingers in and out of crooked fists. 

 But the speaking was different. When Gem’s mother told me, she couldn’t stop herself from getting choked up. 

It was like we lost her, she said. Whatever stupid hope I had that she was simply an eccentric kid, that I was the idiot for not understanding the way she saw the world, was killed. And replaced with the fact that we had something on our hands we weren’t prepared for. 

When they finally got the diagnosis, Gem was five. 

Often in these cases, early intervention was key; but also, girls were typically diagnosed later than boys. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. And what mattered was what her parents were going to do next. Therapists moved in and out of the house like business men on a train. Occupational, speech, physical. 

But in the summertime, she didn’t have access to therapists. All she had was me and our little ventures into the world. I hoped I was doing good by Gem. That sunflower kid. That cartoon heart. All I could do was try to guide, be her compass in a dark terrain. 

I liked living two lives. 

One where I filled in the gaps and another where I fell through them. 

✴

Sometimes, I have strange thoughts, I told him. 

I was in the bed of the man I loved. And I was sure he loved me too. At least, at that moment. He was five years older than I was. But he was fun to be with. I liked spilling out in the dark with him. I liked his giant hands over mine. I liked surprising him.  

What kinda thoughts? He asked. 

I know what other people are thinking. I know what everything means. There’s an ultraviolet shimmer to the world and I can see through it, I said. 

It’s hard to explain, I continued. Happy neons. Dark, frustrated movements. An elevator dropping to the basement. How do you explain a yard to a kid kept in the attic? 

You’re a freak, he laughed and kissed my head. 

He didn’t understand. 

✴

I sat out on his balcony–he was one of those people who had balconies but never used them–at the end of a gigantic, African cigar; one of his favorite pastimes besides television. And me. It tasted like midnight, a rough kind of bark. Ash. I liked letting the smoke out so that it floated above the city like a warning of sorts. Beware, there are people who say they love you and don’t. Beware, there are peep holes even in Heaven. I was high on a pill he’d slipped into my mouth, something small and pink. In combination with the tar and the night air and the fact that I was naked, I felt like a kerosene bomb. I felt like a laughing serpent. A dirty thrill. I began to speak out loud, beneath my breath so that nobody could hear me. 

Not anyone besides you. 

There aren’t many people like us, I began. Not everyone can see the mess, the vomit and slashes of graffiti and stray dogs and doom, and smile. Not everyone can see that there are fairgrounds in a warzone. Not everyone can touch the music. Not everyone can hear the light from miles away. But we can, Gem. I think we are gods.

I think we are poets.

[whatsernameinouterspace]

Food Log 01/02/2024

Breakfast:

Nothing- 0 cals

Lunch:

Nothing- 0 cals

Dinner:

Pie, Mash and Peas- 1,002 cals

Tango Apple (Zero Sugar)- 10 cals

Fruit Jelly Slices- 175 cals

Water: 2725ml

Exercise: -30 cals

Total cals- 1,157 cals

I had some wins today! Someone at work brought in LOADS of cake including lemon drizzle which is my favourite- everyone was talking about it, and I was so tempted- I kept thinking “my fast is only 3 more hours anyway, it doesn’t matter right?”, but then I remembered how dirty and how much of a failure I’d feel if I did it. I think I’m happy I didn’t eat it. A moment on the lips, forever on the hips right?

I’m admittedly just so nervous about first eating after a 72 hour fast, and something that’s so high cals! What if gain back all the amazing weight I lost? What if all the suffering wasn’t worth it? I keep trying to remind myself it’s important for my metabolism, but it’s hard to get rid of the thoughts. I’m half tempted to use lax to get it straight back out of me, but I know that’s a slippery slope too. On a perk, it’s my favourite meal in the world- a death row meal if you like- and it’s like a reward for surviving the 72 hour fast!

EDIT: fuckfuckfuckfuck my partner insisted on me sharing these fruit jellies with him, I went from under 1,000 cals to nearly 1,200 cals oh my god. A purge is absolutely happening tomorrow, I need this all out of my body.

[starb0n3]

What I ate today

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Weighted in at 51.1kgs this morning…

yesterday was cheat day because my parents forced me to eat out, but i ate very little so only 1,300kcals and burnt around 500 .ᐟ

-skipped breakfast ༄

-had coke zero at lunch 𑁍ࠬܓ

-had the bottom of a pepsi zero bottle as a snack ᡣ𐭩

-for dinner my dad bought lebanese so i had two falafels, a few forks of a parsley salad, garlic sauce and schwepps zero + a pickle and cucumber = ~300kcals ୨୧

-had two and a half scoops of LEC caramel peanut tango ice cream + almond butter = ~ 200kcals 𖦹°‧

calorie’s burnt: ~200, i didn’t do much except walk and jump around today (but got the 10,000 steps in still .ᐟ)

net total: ~300kcals

yesterday at the restaurant my dad was talking to the waitress, and idk how they got to that point but he told her i had a tiny appetite :3

i still had sports camp today, and my trainer was a little worried i didn’t get snacks at the cinema for the last day. i was so proud for controlling myself and not giving in to the forceful ‘just have one!’s (i hate that so much because i’m a people pleaser .ᐟ)

also i know this morning’s weight is just water weight, and it’ll go down pretty easily because i’m going to fast at least 16 hours every day from now on.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

[watcheraurora]

Monsters

I'm having angsty thoughts. Back to regularly-scheduled programming later 5.2k words

—

Tango joined the game

Tango faceplanted spawn, is what he did. Slipping in mud and splatting. He cursed, shoving his hands into the mud until they had enough purchase to peel his face out of it. Grumbling half-baked curses under his breath, he straightened up.

"What in the... where am I?"

The world was dark. The sun was definitely overhead, but the sky was black, the clouds were grey, and stars were visible.

He tapped a button on the HUD that clung to the underside of his left arm and pointed to a block.

Light level 0.

All the way around. There was no light here.

Wiping mud from his skin, he deactivated the window over his HUD and squelched through the mud until he reached water. Mangrove swamp for spawn? Whose idea was this?

Granted, the more pertinent questions were, actually:

Where am I?

And,

How did I get here?

Neither of which Tango had any answer for.

He shoved vines out of his way as he dunked himself into the water, using it to get the rest of the mud off. His clothes shouldn't stain—the Void only knew how much redstone had been caked into the fibers over the years, and yet they stayed the same—but he didn't want to be moving around covered in dirt when the mud invariably dried.

He scrubbed at his face and hair too, for good measure.

There was no one around. The spawn chunks were untouched. Not a social hub, then. Lot of spawns weren't, but most worlds with more than a few players set up some level of infrastructure at spawn. At least a sign welcoming new players to the world. Sometimes stocked with food and basic tools.

There was nothing here.

He raised his arm and flexed his left ring finger. A list appeared over the HUD on his arm.

The only active player in this world was him. He saw several spaces for more, but they were all... redacted. He couldn't see faces or tags. That was different. Usually residents of a world who weren't active were at least displayed.

He washed himself off again and climbed out of the water and kept moving, having chosen a random direction and moving in it.

He heard the bamf behind him of an Enderman's teleport. He whirled. If he could get an Ender Pearl... But, gah, he didn't have an axe or a sword—

He didn't need one, but he'd rather use one.

There was nothing there. The Enderman was probably blocked by the thick trees and vines.

"Come on out, skippy!" Tango challenged, frustration heating his blood. "Promise I don't bite." That was a lie and the row of sharp teeth he bared in a sneer proved it.

The Enderman bamfed again after a moment, but no more visible than before.

Tango growled and stalked to the nearest mangrove tree. An utter waste of a beautiful block to make tools out of, but apparently this swamp was plentiful.

The tree did not break.

"What the—?" He peered around the tree, looking toward the Tango-shaped hole in the mud where he'd, well, landed.

How big was the no-touchy zone around spawn? He knew some worlds had them, but not all. Hermitcraft didn't—they had community builds to help players who died without a bed or anchor within a few hours of hopping to the new seed.

Tango didn't remember what the no-touchy zone around spawn that prevented building, breaking, and PvP was actually called and he didn't care. It wasn't normally useful so he'd never bothered to remember.

He kept moving. The light level zero of the world with its black sky and muted sun and stars meant that he'd soon be faceplanting into mobs that spawned outside the player radius when he appeared.

He splashed through more water. He hated swamps. Mangrove or otherwise. They spawned slimes and drowneds and navigating the water and land and mud was an absolute headache. Maybe he didn't normally hate swamps, but he certainly was hating one now.

He used a propagule to haul himself out of the water—and it broke off from the tree in his hand and popped into his inventory.

"Finally," he muttered, approaching the trunk of the tree to start getting geared up.

The Enderman in the distance teleported again.

Tango grumbled under his breath. "Stupid Endy mocking me," he muttered.

Bamf! "I'm not mocking you."

"WAH!" Tango whirled, slipped in the mud, and fell back into the water. This time, he didn't even care. He scrambled back and away. No armor, no tools, no weapons—royally screwed—

"Whoa, whoa! Hey. It's okay," the feminine voice said as though soothing a startled and skittish horse. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Peering through the vines were a pair of vibrant violet eyes.

The girl pushed the vines out of the way with her shoulder and carefully approached Tango. She put her hands in front of her, again as though trying to soothe a horse. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm sorry for scaring you."

The skin of her face was fair—freckled, even—but her hands were as pitch black as the sky. They only faded back to fair up near her shoulders. She had on a light, lavender tank top and grey shorts. Her feet were bare, and black. Also fading back to fair, though Tango couldn't see the end of the transition with her shorts in the way. Her long hair was black, and faded to violet on the ends.

Violet particles drifted off her.

"Who—what—how—" Tango spluttered.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm Eclipse." She glanced at the underside of her left arm and flexed her left ring finger. "Are you Tango?"

"Yeah."

"That just your tag or is it your name too?"

"No, it's, uh, it's my name."

Eclipse crouched, letting her knees sink into the mud slightly. She extended a hand to help him out of the water. "Nice to meet you, Tango." Her eyes swept him up and down as she said it, never quite meeting his.

"You too."

He took her hand and let her haul him out of the water. He shook his head hard to get some of the water droplets out of it and felt the fire spurt back to life in his hair, warming his whole body down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his arms. "Was that—did you—you were the one teleporting?"

Eclipse nodded.

He looked at his HUD, flexing his ring finger. "I don't see any other active names."

"Oh shoot. Sorry." She tapped on her own arm for a moment. The Tab List pinged and one of the redacted blocks hiding a name fell away. Tango saw her face and ForeverEclipse16 a few slots down the roster of resident players. "I forget that setting is on a lot. You can only see names if you've been allowed by that person after you know they're part of this world. Folks here like their privacy. Some don't care, but most like to keep to themselves here."

"Where are we?" He looked around the mangrove swamp, then deliberately looked Eclipse in the eyes, hoping it would spook her into giving him an answer. Most Players tended to be a little unnerved by his completely red eyes.

She cringed away, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please don't do that."

"Why?"

"I'll get to that. For now, to answer your other question."

Her screwed up face relaxed and her vibrant violet eyes opened again, but refused to meet his. Instead looking just below them.

"Welcome, Tango, to the World of Monsters."

—

"Okay, so, let me get this straight," Tango said, hiking up a hill that Eclipse was leading him up. They'd finally left the mangrove swamp and had found plains. His companion had been fairly silent the whole time. "Just to make sure I'm brain-ificating correctly. Which I might not be." He broke some grass and scooped up the seeds. So far he had a set of wooden tools and no armor. Eclipse wore none either; and hiked with bare feet no less. "When you say World of Monsters, you mean the name of this place, right?"

"Sure," Eclipse replied, flinging some hair off her shoulder.

Tango rolled his eyes. His sclera, iris, and pupil were all the same shade of red. She wouldn't even notice if she was looking. Which she wasn't. "Care to actually elaborate on that? This place has constantly had a light level of zero yet I haven't seen a single hostile mob spawn. How can this be the world of monsters if there are, oh I don't know, no monsters?"

Eclipse huffed a laugh out her nose, smiling but trying to hide both behind her hair and shoulder. "Hostile mobs don't spawn here," she said.

"Oh, great. That explains everything. Thank you." Tango knew his dry sarcasm was often found to be abrasive, but he couldn't help it. The attitude was in his nature. "Apart from how you teleported, how I ended up here, why the sky is dark—oh, and also where exactly am I."

Eclipse stopped at the top of the hill and swept an arm out, looking across the landscape. Tango pulled to a stop beside her.

No hostile mobs within render distance, but there were pockets of skulk.

"The World of Monsters," Eclipse said. "It's a unique place. Only Players with hostile mob code in their strings can enter this place. Some of us burn if the sun is allowed to shine properly. So the sky is kept dark." She fidgeted. There was a Bamf and she was several blocks away. Then another and she was on Tango's other side. No Chorus Fruit to be seen.

"I don't have hostile mob code," Tango said.

Eclipse snorted. "Sure you don't." Her eyes flicked up to his burning hair. "Blaze."

She turned and started marching off again. Tango squawked in protest and followed after her. "So, wait. Why this place?"

"Because hostile mob hybrids are often feared. This is a place where we can be ourselves without worrying about how other Players will react to the monstrous parts of us. We've got one guy—Creeper-code—who shows up here just to blow up when he's mad before going back to his usual world." She smiled. "That's why there's a large zone around spawn that prevents breaking blocks. So he can spawn in, blow up, and leave without leaving pockmarks all over."

"And you're an Enderman hybrid."

Eclipse nodded. "Human enough that water doesn't bother me. Ender enough that looking me directly in the eye does." She cleared her throat. "But that's because Endermen communicate telepathically by looking one another in the eye. But Players have a lot more to process. Complicated thoughts and emotions. If a Player looks an Enderman in the eye, they attack because they get overwhelmed by the amount of information they try to process from a Player. It's a defense mechanism. But they count as hostile. So here I am." She placed a dirt block to make a two-block gap climbable. "When you look me in the eye, I can read your mind. All of it. Having a mostly human brain and mostly human intelligence means I can handle Player thoughts and emotions. But that doesn't mean I want to see everything. So I don't recommend looking me in the eye."

"Noted," Tango said. "No looky-looky." He cleared his throat and kept climbing behind her. "How did you guess I have Blaze code?"

Eclipse raised a brow and eyed his hair again. "Gee, I wonder," she remarked sarcastically before continuing her hike.

"No one else has ever guessed," Tango argued, trailing along. He wasn't entirely sure where she was taking him. She said she'd bring him someplace safe, and for the most part, he believed her.

"Well, how many of your 'no one' is also a hostile mob hybrid?"

"At least three. One of my friends is part zombie. It's in her tag. The other is part slime. The last has Creeper code."

"Maybe they were just too polite to say, since your hybrid traits are more subtle and you can pass for a normal Player with some fire powers. But you couldn't access this world otherwise. So it was easy for me to guess." Eclipse fidgeted, teleporting several blocks ahead and then back to where she'd been. "Sorry," she muttered. "I do that. I don't usually mean to. It's kind of a side-effect."

"It's fine." Tango really couldn't care less that she was a nervous teleporter. "Why don't hostile mobs spawn here?"

"Because we turned off those spawns. We wanted a place where we could be ourselves without... looking at what makes us different. It's nice to have one peaceful world where we can just live." She cleared her throat. Bamfed away and back. Kept hiking. "My base is just on the other side of that mountain. I didn't want to be too far away from spawn in case I accidentally broke my bed."

"You can teleport. Isn't that, like, not a big deal?"

"Well sure but 'porting still takes energy. I'd rather save it." She cleared her throat. "Speaking of." She turned and held something out for him. "I forgot. You'll probably be getting hungry."

Tango peeked at his HUD as he took the golden carrot from her. His hunger was, in fact, getting really low. He ate the carrot and then the next one she offered him. He considered his meter high enough after that and politely declined a third.

They hiked for a while longer, crossing the plains biome and into a mountainous one. Goats bleated high above. They seemed to be circling the base of the mountain, rather than going directly over it. The day was getting on, the muted sun crawling ever closer to the horizon. "So you can't farm Blaze here," he said.

"Can't farm a lot of things. Skeletons for bones and arrows, zombies for rotten flesh for clerics, zombie piglins for gold, Endermen for Pearls and XP, creepers for gunpowder, Blaze for Blaze Rods, shulkers for shells. We don't do a lot of brewing here. And, actually, without zombies, iron farms don't work either. Let me tell ya, Jevin was bummed when he first got here and there was no way to make an Ender farm."

Tango froze. "Did you just say Jevin?"

"Yeah. Blue slime guy. He's actually pretty chill."

"I know him. He lives on my main residential world with me."

"Oh. He's the one you mentioned earlier?"

"Yeah!" Tango peeked at the Tab List again. iJevin had appeared on the roster, though the name was greyed out and [Off-World] was next to it.

"Interesting." Eclipse shuddered like an aggravated Enderman and after shaking her head hard, continued onward.

"What about spiders?" Tango asked. "Since they're passive but also hostile depending on the light?"

Eclipse gestured around her. "Light level zero," she reminded him.

"Right. So no string or spider eyes either."

"Nope." She cleared her throat. "Anyway. Home sweet home." She extended an arm out.

Tango paused.

She'd built a whole village out of End Stone variants and Purpur blocks. Like if an End City and a normal village had weird hybrid children houses.

Apart from the castle—that appeared to be made out of Purpur and studded with Amethyst. It was gorgeous, reaching toward the sky. Eclipse smiled at him and started hopping down the mountain to the village at the base of it.

"That's gorgeous," Tango said, following her.

"Thanks. Let me get you kitted out and then you can do what you want. Come and go as you please."

He hopped down the mountain after her. "So... how did I end up here?"

"Eventually every hostile mob hybrid just gets brought here. Most of us don't stay here full-time. We just come here for vacations. To be how we are with no fear of scaring normal players. You could turn into a bonfire right here and no one would bat an eye. If anyone was even here at the moment. Since no one's really a full-time resident. Except—" She cleared her throat. "Except me. I live here."

"Why did you choose to live here?"

She eyed him sarcastically, her gaze just off from his eyes. With a Bamf noise, she was almost the entire way down the mountain. This time, she didn't come back. Tango pursued her faster, catching up upon realizing she hadn't started moving again.

"I live here because being on public residential worlds is overwhelming. People look me in the eyes without meaning to. I teleport randomly and have broken redstone circuits by accident just by getting stuck in one. Here, I can just do what I want. I can wander and 'port and build and not worry about someone dumping their entire brain into mine because they happened to be curious about my eyes." She blinked. "At least here, everyone knows what I am and are polite enough not to look me in the eye."

"What about a more private world? Like a whitelisted one with only a handful of people?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I don't need the headache of people finding out about me. Based on my experience, it doesn't end well when normal players realize you've got hostile mob code."

"My zombie friend has been accepted well, on our world. So has Jevin."

"Then your world is kinder than most." She pushed open a door to a large, rectangular house—that was absolutely filled with chests. There were signs attached to each one detailing what was inside. Her storage hut. "Let me get you some things." She lifted the lid of a chest.

"If you can't get Ender Pearls or Blaze Rods, you can't get to the End, can you?"

"I never said that we can't get Ender Pearls. We just can't farm them. I can make them. It's part of my Ender code." She gestured to a double chest labelled Ender Pearls. Tango, at her nod, peeked under the lid. It was absolutely chock full of Ender Pearls. "Why? What's so important in the End?"

"Well... how do you get Purpur and End Stone? How does everyone here fly?"

"I don't. I 'port. I can get to the End."

"Where's the Stronghold?"

She shrugged. "Dunno."

"Wait, wait, wait. You mean you can teleport directly to the End?"

"I can teleport to the Nether, the End, and the overworld at will."

Tango stared, blinking. "What?"

"Just part of my code. I can only really hop to the Nether directly corresponding to where I am in the overworld. But the End I can, y'know. Get wherever. So I harvest my blocks there. But I've got a crop of Chorus plants too that I can turn into Purpur."

"How does everyone else fly?"

"Most of them don't." She snuck a look at him out of the corner of her eye. "But Blaze fly naturally."

"Yeah. I just made a habit of using an Elytra so the other Hermits didn't think I was weird." His Blaze Rods burned into being, orbiting his head. He lifted a few inches off the ground and touched back down. The Blaze Rods vanished.

"No wonder your friends never guessed you were Blaze code." She reached deeper into the chest, short enough that her feet came off the ground, kicking the air to maintain her balance. "If you keep your Rods hidden, why would they assume?"

"I don't... mean to keep them hidden. They just get in the way."

"Mmhmm." She didn't sound convinced.

Particles drifted off Eclipse as she rummaged in a chest labelled Food.

She pulled out several stacks of golden carrots, handing them over. Tango let them pop into his inventory. "That should be enough to last you a while. I've got lots of crops here and a handful of villagers with golden carrot trades so let me know if you need more. You can just ping me in the chat or send a whisper or whatever. You could also, uh, stop by. If you want. Just whenever. I don't mind unexpected company."

Tango eyed her. The way her shoulders curled forward as she opened a different chest. "You're lonely," he said. Not a question.

"I'm fine," she replied, passing over a set of diamond tools. None of it was enchanted, but it was diamond.

"Wait, hang on. What is this?" Tango demanded.

"What?"

"You're just handing me diamond tools like it's no big deal!"

She shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"How is it not a big deal?! It's diamond! This set must have taken you hours of mining to get—and you're not even wearing armor!"

"I don't need armor. There's no hostile mobs here and fall damage is easily mitigated by teleporting. Besides, the tools are nothing." Her own set of diamond tools—gleaming with the magic of enchantment—spun through her hands from her inventory. "I traded for them. I didn't mine. I built a village. I have villagers."

"Still, that's a lot of trading."

"Tango, look in this chest and tell me I don't have tools to spare."

He peered over her shoulder. The double chest was full of diamond tools. All unenchanted, but all diamond. "Wow."

Eclipse continued searching her storage room. "Let's see what else I can give you... Oh! A bed. Hang on. I think I've got some wool and planks..." She crossed to a different chest—labelled Wool—and ducked into it.

ZombieCleo joined the game.

Tango stared at the chat over his hub for a moment.

Then his hand flew to it.

<Tango> CLEO?!

<ZombieCleo> Tango?

Eclipse straightened out of her chest with some wool in her hands, reading the chat on the underside of her arm. "Oh. You know each other?"

"Cleo also lives on my homeworld!"

<ZombieCleo> Where are you, Tango? How did you get here?

<ForeverEclipse16> He's at my base

She went to a crafting table and started assembling a bed.

<ZombieCleo> Stay there. I'm on my way

<Tango> Roger, roger *thumbs up*

"There you go!" Eclipse said, turning around. "I have lots of dye if you want to pick a color."

"I don't really care. Plain is fine. A bed is a bed." Tango took it from her and put it in his inventory. "This is more than generous, Eclipse. Thank you."

"Sure thing. We don't get new Players often. Least I can do is help you out." She smiled. "Let's go out and wait for Cleo. They tend to move pretty quick."

"Yeah. Sure thing."

—

When Cleo emerged from the tree line on a horse, they looked slightly cross. Eclipse had been Bamfing around the houses of her base, up on the rooftops, waiting for their arrival. When she caught sight of them, she waved.

Cleo followed the directions Eclipse gave and rode straight up to Tango. "And just what have you been keeping from us, Tek? How are you here?" they demanded.

Tango knew that a lot of Cleo's intimidation was bravado and bluffing. That didn't stop his pointed ears from flattening to his head and his hair simmering low. He was still intimidated by them when that angry voice came out. Cleo could probably wipe him in PvP and he didn't want to trek all the way back here to pick up the bits Eclipse had given him.

"I, uh..." Tango started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have hostile mob code?"

"Why do you say that like a question?" Cleo glowered down at him. "You can't get in here otherwise. Out with it."

"I'm part-Blaze, okay?!" Tango snapped, his temper, hair, and Blaze Rods flaring. Cleo blinked in surprise at seeing the Rods manifest around his head, their eyes tracking the orbit. "I'm Nether-spawn! I didn't tell anyone because Nether mobs are—they're—" He cut himself off with a huff, his fists clenching. His Blaze Rods spun around him faster.

"Tango." Cleo's frustration had vanished. They slid off their horse, tied it to a post, and approached him. They were taller than him and ducked down enough to force him to meet their eyes. Vibrant green, and now full of affection. "Tango, you know none of the Hermits care. Doc's got Creeper code. I've got zombie. Jevin's a slime. X is a code-shifter. Who knows what the hell Mumbo is. You never needed to hide anything from us."

"It's different," Tango muttered. "You're all overworld hybrids."

"Were you scared that the Hermits would reject you?"

"No! ... Yes? ... Kinda?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's different for me."

"Enlighten me," Cleo said flatly, eyes narrowing to a bit of a glower.

"I'm going to assume you didn't say that as a fire pun," Tango muttered. Eclipse had Bamfed away somewhere, apparently out of earshot, and was sitting up on a tower of her castle.

"Tango," Cleo warned.

He sighed. "Look. It's different for me, okay? I'm not overworld-hostile-mob. I'm Nether-hostile-mob. And more than that, I'm Blaze code. Nether mobs are the worst and the Blaze are... they... I... I couldn't let that part of me show."

"Why?"

"Because if the Hermits knew I was Blaze code, they'd be fine with it. They'd tell me I didn't have to hide. They'd encourage me to be open about myself."

"And that's a bad thing?" Cleo challenged.

"Yes!" Tango threw up his hands. "Because if I let myself be open about my Blaze heritage, I'd get lax about controlling it."

"Fire spread is off."

"That's not what I mean." Tango's hair flicked faster. "I know that. I like having fire in my builds as much as the next guy. More, even. It's the other parts that I have to keep down. You think my temper is bad and explosive now? Imagine how much worse it would be if I embraced the monster in my code." As he spoke, his teeth bared in a snarl. Their white, sharp points flashing in the starlight. The sun had truly gone down, but no mobs spawned. The End Rods that kept Eclipse's farms at the right light level to grow plants were the only light in the area.

Cleo considered him. "Am I a monster?"

"Don't," Tango said softly.

"Is Doc a monster? Is Jevin? Is Mumbo?"

"It's different for me!" Tango shouted. His hair burst into a massive plume of flame, his Blaze Rods flaring with light and heat and shooting around his head like meteors. The fire crawled down from his hair, consuming his head. Neck. Shoulders. Arms. Torso.

"How?!" Cleo retorted with equal gusto.

"Because I'm from Hell!" he roared. "The Nether is a hellscape and that's where my code comes from! I'm not like the overworld hostile mobs! You can survive in extreme conditions and just stitch yourself back together! Doc can release all his emotions in one quick explosion and carry on. Everything literally slides off Jevin. I'm not like you guys. I'm from the place no one actually likes going. People go to the Nether out of necessity. And you know what they do? They break through the damn ceiling and build up there so they don't have to deal with the rest of it!"

The fire had crawled to Tango's knees.

"Jimmy never thought you were a monster," Cleo said.

Tango's fire vanished, leaving only his hair burning low. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Cleo leaned back, folding their arms. "You won't listen to me. You wouldn't listen to Impulse if he was telling you this. You won't listen to the Hermits who believe that you're not a monster. You know us too well. You're like a child who won't listen to their parents but if someone else suggests the same idea, you do listen. So if you won't believe me when I tell you that you're not a monster, maybe you'd listen to him."

Tango stared. "He doesn't know the real me."

"He held your heart and soul in his hands, and you held his. He knows you well enough. You nearly burnt him alive when he tried to hold you back after Scar caught the ranch on fire. And he held onto you anyway. Would he do that for a monster?"

Tango's whole body felt like Cleo had thrown a bucket of ice water over his temper and dropped an ice cube down his spine.

"I don't care what your relationship with him was like behind closed doors," Cleo continued. "I don't care if you were romantically involved or just good friends having fun in a death match together. It doesn't matter. What matters was that it was obvious he cared about you, and you cared about him. And he held you through one of the worst rages I've ever seen you in. So what are you so afraid of with the Hermits? Why do you think they'll see you as a monster? You're not one."

"I'm not now. Anymore. But I was and I could be again if my control slipped." Tango's hair was flickering fast.

Cleo reached out and set a hand on his arm. "Don't beat yourself up so much. You're more than the sum of all your code. We all are." They looked around. "Come on. I'll take you to my base here and then you can find a spot for your own. Then you can pop in and out of here whenever you need to."

Tango looked around the End Stone and purpur village.

<Tango> Eclipse? Pop back down?

Bamf! "What's up?" Eclipse asked.

"Cleo's taking me to her base and from there I'm gonna find a little plot of my own. But first I wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. Since you've been so kind."

"Oh, no problem." Eclipse smiled, her eyes flicking to his for a split second before blinking hard and looking away. "Happy to help. If you ever need anything while you're here, let me know. I'll probably be here," she said. "I have a Creative world I mock up builds on for the village when I need to, but more likely than not I'll be here." She put out a hand. Purple particles drifted off the black skin.

Tango shook her hand. Her skin was cold compared to his, but everyone's was. "Thanks again."

"Sure thing. Enjoy your stay. The World of Monsters is a haven for you now. Whenever you need to Blaze away from the eye of your friends."

"Yeah." Tango turned to Cleo. "Lead the way."

Cleo hopped back on their horse. "Try to keep up."

Tango just laughed, his Blaze Rods spinning around his head and lifting him off the ground. "I think I'll be fine."

Cleo laughed that infectious laugh of theirs and urged their horse into a gallop. Tango shot off after them.

Eclipse watched them all go, a small smile on her face.