#what if all those venom animals in the credits are ones he changed into to get back to eddie

[englishknightsky]

thinking about eddie being back in his apartment, maybe got himself a chicken or two so he wouldn't be alone, and then one day he comes home and one of his cute brown chickens is suddenly black with white eyes and he drops his groceries at the door 🥹

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 1: Foster

The polycule finds themselves in the company of a stray kitten that Estinien fetched from a back alley from who-knows-where.

And they're going to rehome her. No, really, honest. They're not keeping her, or anything lol

Word count: 1,900

~*~

A rare rainy day off in Ishgard— on a rarer day off, no less— had left Serella happily cuddled up in bed, under the blankets. Joined by her betrothed, and their beloved Violet, what time wasn’t spent idly dozing, was a warm, floating haze of hands and lips brushing idly where they found skin. Though they were swathed in the overcast, pale light that spilled in through the curtains, its chill was far from them, the roaring hearth, gilding the gloom where it collided, its warmth reaching beyond its light. The perfect picture of coziness.

Which was why she was particularly miffed, when their dearest Estinien stumbled in through the door, soaked to the bone, and holding his bundled up jacket to his chest: it meant that she had to get up, to investigate.

As Estinien caught his breath from sprinting in the pouring rain, his paramours all collectively, if sluggishly, opted to disentangle themselves from the blankets enough to see what on earth had made him bluster in so.

Aymeric was the first to rise from their little nest of blankets, ambling over gamely. Serella wasn’t far behind, though stilled when she heard him melt over whatever it was that Estinien had bundled into his coat.

An animal, then.

Sure enough, she neared just in time for Aymeric to reach a hand out, and be met with a sooty paw reaching up to curl its little bean toes around his index finger. He cooed again, and his posture melted further toward the bundle—ah, it was a cat, then.

“Hello, little love,” Aymeric greeted, his voice turned sing-song, and pitched a few notes higher, as it always did when he greeted an animal.

Already, Serella knew this was trouble.

All the more, when Hyana gasped as she scrambled to free herself from bed fully, hissing and cursing as a blanket stuck stubbornly to the pointed ridges at the end of her tail. Freeing herself, she stumbled over eagerly, completely blowing past Serella as she did.

After giving the two of them a few more moments to coo, she and Estinien passed a look between them, and silently agreed that it was time to be the responsible ones. For a change.

“Alright, alright, what do we have here, then?” Serella called, gently nudging them away to give the little creature some breathing room.

“Creature” almost seemed an apt description for the cat nestled within Estinien’s coat: covered in rain water and mud, it was almost impossible to tell what the cat’s true fur color was. It trembled, even pressed against Estinien’s chest—must still be cold. Those large eyes squinted up at her, as the little kitten sniffed and sneezed at her proffered hand. The cat’s shivering made its purr sound tinny, like it rattled the poor thing’s lungs just to do it.

“A bath first, before we do anything else, I think.” She said aloud.

With a breath to steel herself, Serella accepted the bundle of cat and coat in her arms, when Estinien relented to her. Despite the shivering, and the wetness of its fur, the kitten felt warm against her chest, when it immediately snuggled up to her body warmth. Reminding herself that they already had two dogs and a cat—two cats, technically, if she counted Duchess back at Borel Manor—Serella rounded the corner out of their bedroom, and into the bathroom.

Her polycule trailed in on her heels. It was hard not to liken them to a gaggle of Scholasticate kids, all crowding around the door to watch. It warmed her, how even the most standoffish of her loves couldn’t resist the draw of a cute animal.

The bathtub would be too massive, for the little kit—the sink suited just fine. Hyana was kind enough to fetch their bottle of feline shampoo, and set it on the counter for her.

As she let the water run to get a bit warmer, Serella lifted the kitten, gently, to hold it—her, Serella realized, with a glance—at eye level.

“You won’t like me for this,” she warned the kitten. “But that’s alright, it’s only temporary.”

The kitten squirmed, and licked the tip of her nose. Ignoring the way her insides turned to softened butter, Serella dutifully set to work, carefully bathing the kitten.

Unsurprisingly, the water was, at first, most unwelcome, and the cat had no scruples with voicing her complaint and trying to clamor out of the sink. For such a small thing, her wailing meows of discontent were rather loud—good. That meant her lungs were healthy. Once the warmth of the water sunk into her skin, however, she relented, somewhat, though instead sat in the shallow, warm water, and vibrated from the intensity of her disgruntled, rumbling meows.

It was hard not to liken her to a rat, watching her quake with the effort of vocalizing her displeasure. With each careful massage of Serella’s fingers into the kitten’s fur to wash away the grime, however, her true coat began to shine through.

As it turned out, her fur was still mostly black—save for her white capped paws, and her underbelly, all the way up to her chin. All downy soft, thin fur, in a sleek coat. Once she’d gotten a chance to dry out, under the careful ministrations of Aymeric drying her down with the softest, fluffiest towel he could find, she was actually a rather beautiful cat.

When she still shivered, as she finished drying, Aymeric would brook no negotiation, and immediately bundled himself—and her—back in bed, with the blankets. It seemed to be exactly where she wanted to be, as she promptly loafed herself upon his chest, and shook with her purrs.

“We need a name for her,” he said, not taking his eyes off the little kit, as her eyes began to drift shut.

“Absolutely not.” Serella tutted. “It isn’t responsible for us to take in another cat—here, or Borel Manor—and no, she doesn’t look ready to be a road companion, before you even entertain suggesting it.”

“Act like you don’t want to keep her.” Estinien scoffed. “You didn’t even ask me how I’d found her—you do that, when you do something I don’t like. You ask questions.”

“She’s a stray, you found her, and brought her here. What else is there to know?” Serella huffed, and even to her, she sounded a touch defensive.

“We can’t just turn her out after a bath, either, though.” Hyana argued, in the gentlest tone Serella had ever heard from her, as she snuggled up to Aymeric’s side to offer her hand to the kit. “She’ll have to stay for a while.”

“Until we can responsibly rehome her, of course.” Aymeric hastily added on, unconvincingly.

Serella wrinkled her nose when Estinien made a noise of agreement, even as the both of them also crawled in bed.

Once they had hemmed him in on all sides, Aymeric piped up, “But we have to call her something, in the meantime.”

When Estinien reached out to pet her, both of her paws shot out, to wrap around his hand. Her claws pricked at his skin, as she tried to force his hand over to her head. He snorted.

“Krile, perhaps? The little snot seems keen on getting her claws in me.” He grumbled, with no real venom behind his words; he hadn’t even taken his hand back.

Alas, he had already been lost to this kitten’s wiles, it seemed. Probably was, the moment he found her.

“I’ll tell Krile.” Hyana replied in that same, cooing voice, not even deigning to look at Estinien, as the kitten wriggled across the broad expanse of Aymeric’s chest, to bump her forehead against Hyana’s.

It was fascinating, watching how all three of them—powerful, stalwart warriors, all—had turned to puddles under the might of this singular kitten’s cuteness. Danuja, Vardr, and Rhalgr were already getting jealous, she realized, when she felt their collective, agitated curiosity on the fringes of her focus.

“Menphina,” she suggested, before she could stop herself. When all present turned to look at her, she elaborated, with a wry twist of her lips, “She’s certainly charmed all of you enough to warrant it.”

“…Menphina.” Hyana tried again, speaking it to the kit instead. At the curious mrr the cat trilled in response, Hyana nodded. “She likes it. It’s settled, then.”

When the weather improves, I’ll put up signs, she resolved to herself, just as the kitten laid her paw atop Serella’s hand, over Aymeric’s heart.

To her credit, she did. But the problems that trickled in after that came threefold: there was little demand for a beautiful runt, all the more of an indeterminable breed of cat. What demand there was, was often in the interest of Menphina being a “practice pet,” for a child. Fearful that that would translate to unsupervised children treating her like a toy, until she was injured, Serella would be the first—and firmest—to rebuke such offers. Add to all of that, the kitten’s propensity for extended bursts of high energy, that demanded that she be played with, ruled her out for any of the elderly candidates that applied, looking for a calm housecat.

To say that she had no success finding a suitable home for Menphina, would be a gross understatement.

Every time, she would come home, and Menphina would have to crawl out of the collective fur of Vardr and Rhalgr, just to trill up at her in greeting. And every time, Serella would have to scoop her up, and tell her how sorry she was, that it wasn’t meant to be, for that applicant.

“There will be others,” Serella reassured her, every time.

A few moons down the line saw Menphina still very much fostered in their care—to the point, that she was tucked close, huddled in the bend of Serella’s knees, as she’d curled up on the couch with a book. She’d fallen into a sort of pleasant lull, where her focus was on her book, though she could still pick up on Aymeric and Hyana chatting amicably in the kitchen.

At the mention of the date, in the midst of their conversation, Serella’s ear perked; she couldn’t recall the exact date, that Estinien had hauled this scrawny little kit in from the cold, but as she looked down at Menphina again, now filled out on good food and loving attention, she realized, with dismay, that she had not been strong enough.

“You were never a foster cat, were you?” She grumbled accusingly at Menphina.

The kitten looked up at the sound of her voice, and gave a questioning mrr?

As though she didn’t know what she had done. Smiling wryly, Serella gave her affectionate scritches between her ears.

“No, I suppose you never were, at that.”

Taking this as an invitation, Menphina unfurled herself with a long stretch that morphed into a yawn, and scampered up Serella’s hip, and settled in on the curve of her side, as though it was just for her.

Groaning, Serella let her head hit the back of the couch, as she finally admitted her defeat loud enough for the household to hear: “We’re keeping the cat.”

Amidst the giddy celebrating, she swore she distinctly heard the clink of coin being exchanged—they’d gone and taken bets, on how long it would take for her to crack.

Gremlins. Hellions, all of them. Hers. How she loved them, as they were—Menphina included.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Mega Leech

Like every cartoon ever made, today's episode is the environmental episode. We all know how high-quality those tend to be, right?

Let's get into the twelfth (chronologically the tenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Mega Leech.

We start off with the shyest girl in Marinette's class, Mylene, mentally preparing herself for a protest with her boyfriend, tough guy with a soft side, Ivan.

Wow, real subtle foreshadowing there, writers.

The thing Mylene and Ivan are protesting is something called the “Oxygen Project” by Mayor Andre Bourgeois, which will supposedly create fresh air for Paris. To be fair, this isn't just a random character trait they slapped onto Mylene like what we've seen with other episodes this season to justify their new Akuma forms. Back in the Season 2 episode “Reverser”, a major plotpoint for the final act was that Andre was about to approve a project that would send trash into space, which Mylene and Ivan were protesting at, before the titular Akuma threatened to send the trash back to the Earth. This show can get weird at times.

Even though they're the only two protesters, Andre still has Officer Roger Raincomprix take them into custody. To his credit, Roger does try to resolve things diplomatically, and is very hesitant to take them to his car (even though they aren't handcuffed and there's no divider), he only does so when his job is threatened by Andre. And let's get the obvious joke out of the way now because there's going to be a lot of moments like this.

Marinette sees the event from her house, and after running late to school resulting in a brief moment of Unfunny Marinette Slapstick, tells the class what's going on. Surprisingly, instead of ignoring the whole situation like every other episode she's been in, Ms. Bustier decides to actually be a teacher for once and calls Roger. She says that she'll supervise their protest while the rest of the class comes with her.

Back at the park, Andre is about to chop a tree down with a chainsaw, but is soon called out by Ms Bustier. Mylene calls out Andre for the obviously not eco-friendly project, but he soon plays an ad for the Oxygen Project.

Huh. So this is how Druidia's canned air business took off.

To be fair, this is actually a funny scene, as it does feel like an over the top commercial you'd see, especially the kind that gets promoted by a politician. Of course, this funny joke is soon followed yet another reminder that Marinette likes Adrien, because the writers assume the audience will forget if they aren't bashed over the head with this knowledge every episode.

And as usual, Adrien ignores Marinette's odd behavior around him, but that's more because he's distracted by the ad, because he was told it was for perfume (did the oxygen line not give away the purpose of the commercial?). Quick question: Why is Gabriel taking part in this? Why is a fashion designer being commissioned to create a bottle for a government-sanctioned project? Does he just invest in random projects and hopes they'll go under so he can akumatize someone? As for Mylene, her classmates are naturally confused as to why she is opposed to this project if it's good for the environment. Her response is something that can ironically be used to criticize this very show when talking about the Oxygen Project.

We then get a moment where, of course, Chloe is the one to say she doesn't care about trees despite having no real prominence in this episode. Seriously, this is the only line she gets and it's to remind the audience how much of an irredeemable monster she is.

Oh my God, Astruc, why don't you just say she's a climate change denier while you're at it, seeing how you already view them as criminals? You clearly want to throw every negative character trait and label at her, don't you? If you're so crazy about hating her, why not make Chloe Captain Planet villain levels of evil?

Marintte points out the obvious flaw in Andre's plan to stop pollution by selling air in plastic bottles that can easily pollute the ocean, which gives the Mayor a lot of bad press, and even though she's the one to say this, Mylene still shames her for ignoring her attempts to get people to protest because she was busy. Yes, the show is seriously trying to blame Marinette for not doing enough to help the environment on top of her various other responsibilities like PROTECTING THE CITY OF PARIS ON A DAILY BASIS.

The families of the kids come to support the protest, and Andre tries to call Gabriel for help, but he basically tells him to figure it out himself, supporting my earlier theory in the process. He transforms into Shadowmoth and sends an Akuma and an Amok to Andre. This transforms him into Malediktator again and and gives him a Sentimonster ally, the titular Mega Leech.

Mega Leech is another example of a Sentimonster with a simple design but a really interesting set of powers. As soon as its summoned, Malediktator jumps into his mouth and summons an army of minature clones of himself (making me wonder why they didn't call the Sentimonster “Micromanager”) to jump into the ears of civilians and control them directly like Plankton in that one episode of SpongeBob. It's a pretty terrifying concept and a really clever extension of Malediktator's mind control powers.

Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and tries fighting off the Malediktator clones, but obviously gets overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. Marinette soon pretends to be possessed by a Malediktator clone to get Mylene to run away while she transforms, once again summoning her Lucky Charm as soon as she meets up with Cat Noir because the animators really want to show off the new suit. She uses the Lucky Charm, a single ice skate, to break the mayoral sash around one of the Malediktator clones and frees the Akuma and Amok, but Mega Leech is still around, along with the brainwashed civilians. She and Cat Noir realize that the Akumas and Amoks must have multiplied when Malediktator cloned himself. Ladybug tells Cat Noir to distract the Malediktator clones (the latter actually acknowledging how he always has to do that)

Ladybug meets up with Mylene in the sewer where she had escaped to earlier, only to find the girl crying. Ladybug offers Mylene the Mouse Miraculous, but she turns her down because of how scared she is. Unlike when they tried to do the same thing by having Zoe doubt herself in “Queen Banana”, this scene makes sense because Mylene has consistently been shown to be a very timid person. It feels much more believable to see this from her. Granted, it's undermined by Ladybug saying that Mylene is already like a superhero because of her protesting for a good cause. I get she's trying to reassure her, but the whole environmental lesson is kind of muddled by saying Marinette doesn't care about the environment because of how busy she was FIGHTING CRIME. Thankfully, the lesson is more about bravery being able to move onward in spite of fear.

Nevertheless, this still motivates Mylene to take the Mouse Miraculous and transforms into Polymouse.

And boy, is it bad. I'm not trying to body shame Mylene here, I'm glad they didn't try and slim her down either, but I'm really not a fan of the color scheme for the suit. With the use of pink and white, it looks way too similar to Pigella.

I get that they were trying to make Mylene look like a mouse, but I'm just really not a fan of the white gloves and boots. They stick out compared to Pigella, where they actually blended in with the color scheme. Then there's the actual suit itself. Why give the suit a hood if you're going to make it yet another skintight jumpsuit? At least with Carapace, they had more armor to help him resemble a turtle, but there's no excuse here. And finally, the hair. How can you take a girl with a very vibrant hairstyle, make it pink when transforming, cover it up, and then call it a day? There are just so many questionable design choices here. I don't think it's as laughably bad as Shadowmoth's suit, but it's really one of the weakest hero suits to be introduced recently.

I'd give my thoughts on how to improve it, but thankfully one of my anons gave their own ideas for a redesign.

Thank you to whoever sent this in. You certainly get character design better than some of the animators on this show, and that's saying a lot given they're supposedly better than the ones at Pixar.

Ladybug gives Polymouse the ice skate to use as a makeshift flail with her weapon, a jump rope, while she fights the Maledikator clones. Polymouse uses her power, Multitude, which turns her into a swarm of miniature clones to take on the horde of Malediktator clones and free the brainwashed civilians. Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir, but big surprise, Cat Noir gets brainwashed by a Malediktator clone. Sure, Polymouse frees him from the control, but I'm surprised Ladybug isn't more used to this happening by now.

Ladybug then gathers several temp heroes to help them out. She gives Kagami the Dragon Miraculous to become Ryuko, Nino the Turtle to become Carapace, Max the Horse to become Pegasus, and she gives back the Bee Miraculous to the super amazing Zoe so she can once again become the world's greatest superhero, Vesperia. There’s a brief joke where Cat Noir rushes to join the team pose, which could be seen as foreshadowing for future events, and if it is, good job, writers.

Pegasus uses his Voyage to teleport Vesperia above Mega Leech, where she uses her Venom on the Sentimonster, while Ryuko uses her Wind Dragon to gather all the scattered Akumas and Amoks freed by Polymouse for Carapace to trap in his Shelter. Ladybug purifies all the Akumas and Amoks, gives Andre a Magical Charm, tells him to rethink the Oxygen Project, and the heroes leave where Ladybug takes back all their Miraculous.

Back at the park, Andre decides to plant more trees in what's obviously not a desperate attempt to save his reputation. He may say he's doing the right thing, but I doubt investors will be happy that the project's being aborted just like that. We get one more hilarious moment where Marinette stutters around Adrien, who soon goes home and gets sent to his room by his father (because we just needed an Angstdrien Depreste scene this episode for some reason), who fidgets with his ring and stares ominously as the episode ends. And in case you live under a rock, this reignited a certain fan theory I'll be talking about in another post.

Overall, I thought this was a pretty decent episode. The environmentalism subplot was pretty standard for episodes like this, with how the antagonist is a rich asshole who doesn't see how he's harming the environment, and gets his mind changed by a hopeful youth. I'm glad Andre isn't Captain Planet villain levels of evil here, though I am glad the episode acknowledges that there's no single solution to stopping pollution, and that there needs to be more unity if we need to help the planet's situation.

While it had a bumpy first act, things really started to get interesting as soon as the action started. Questionable design aside, I thought Polymouse (who didn't even name herself in the episode) had a good first outing with the use of her powers coupled with the use of the Lucky Charm. The first act with Mylene really showcased her character and her courage in the face of adversity well. Part of me kind of wishes we could have seen her interact with Ivan while she was transformed, but then again, he was still brainwashed I think.

The other heroes honestly felt shoehorned in during the climax. I get that they helped gather all the Akumas and Amoks, but there was really no buildup to them appearing like in other episodes with multiple heroes.

The one major problem I have is how the episode tries to blame Marinette for not being as kind as Mylene because she didn't know about the protest, even though, as I have stated multiple times, SHE ROUTINELY SAVES PARIS EVERY EPISODE. I think that counts as saving the planet.

This episode had some flaws, but it was still pretty enjoyable, and it was one of the better episodes this season so far.

[iamnmbr3]

Venom 2 Spoilers - very mixed bag

I just. huh???? like the last third was good. but as I said it felt like it came from a different movie. I wish I had seen the movie it came from. Cletus said he only wanted to be Eddie’s friend?? what? when? That never happened. at all. and why does Carnage hate Venom? If that was never built up or explained so Venom eating him had little impact. Eddie and Cletus never had much interaction (contrary to what you would think if you walked in late and only caught the end) so their final interaction is a well done scene but feels like the conclusion to an arc that never happened. 

Also why is Eddie apologizing to Venom??? Again. It was a good and cute and funny scene in and of itself and felt like it matched their dynamic and characterization from the first movie. But it wasn’t at all set up by the preceding 2 acts. Quite the opposite. Venom is the one who should be apologizing to Eddie!! The third act seems to imply they had a couple’s spat centering on Eddie being ashamed of Venom or something and not giving him enough acknowledgement or credit or ability to pursue his goals etc. That could’ve been a cool arc. But it never happened. We just see Venom constantly knocking Eddie around and taking his temper out on him. So Eddie getting mad at him seems totally justified to say the least. And it makes no sense that Eddie apologizes. 

Also how come nobody cares about or addresses that Venom apparently killed a whole bunch of people by body hopping between them??? And why does Eddie not seem bothered by the fact that Venom has complete control over his body and keeps literally throwing him around rooms? Like he’s upset at the time. But not nearly as upset as you’d think he would be. And later it never gets mentioned. Also why does Venom do that? He didn’t do that in the first movie when he didn’t know or care about Eddie at all. Actually in the first movie Venom could’ve just forced Eddie to do anything that he wanted, but he chose not to. 

Which is why we got a really special and unique movie instead of a standard evil body snatching alien movie. Then in the first 2 acts of this Venom is actually basically just acting like a standard evil body snatching alien, except the framing acts as tho it’s all fine. The last third has the correct relationship dynamic and characterization for Venom and Eddie and I love the final scene if I ignore the first 2 thirds of the movie that completely contradict what we see in the ending bit. If you don’t ignore it, it makes no sense and is also downright abuse apologism.

Also at times we get the witty and clever snarky Venom comments that were so great in the first movie. But sometimes it just feels like it’s trying way too hard to be funny and veers into the territory of ridiculous silliness. Like yeah the first movie was hilarious but it also felt grounded. We the audience are laughing but the characters are all acting in ways that make sense for how they are written and the rules of the world. Eddie grabbing Venom and pulling him into the bathroom makes no sense. How is he able to do that??? He can’t force Venom to do something if he doesn’t want to. Also how does no one hear Venom arguing with him if he’s out of Eddie and speaking out loud????! 

And wtf was Eddie’s arc supposed to be? Or Venom’s for that matter? If Cletus killed his family members bc they were abusing him then why did he murder all those other people? Again. WHY does Carnage want to kill Venom??? I love Eddie and Venom realizing they are stronger together but that wasn’t developed at all in the first 2 acts. If Carnage and Cletus aren’t a good match why don’t we see them arguing till the last minute. They seem to work together great until the last third. Shouldn’t that have been set up more??? Wouldn’t it make more sense for Eddie and Venom to have the more harmonious and cute relationship and Cletus and Carnage to have the violent abusive twisted dynamic??? It’s like they switched them. 

Frances was amazing. But where did she get her powers? I thought superheroes weren’t a thing in the Venom universe. Also she and Cletus were the most interesting and engaging part of the movie. Every time they were on screen - and particularly Frances who just absolutely stole every scene she was in in the best way - I perked up. A lot of the rest of the movie was boring. The two of them actually had emotion to their scenes and had some actually developed characters and motives. At least compared to the rest of it. 

Loved the callback to comics!Eddie on the island with the symbiote in his Hawaiian t-shirt. And loved Venom and Eddie’s interactions in that scene. They work perfectly with the first movie, but not at all with the first 2 acts of this movie where Venom treats Eddie horribly. Also again it feels like payoff to something that was never setup bc we never had any indication that Eddie wanted Venom to admit his feelings for him or anything like that. Like I love the scene in isolation and it feels in-character based on the first movie, but when you view it in the context of the first 2 acts of this movie it feels jarringly dissonant, and also straight up like it’s saying if ur abusive partner says they love u, u should take them back. Which I get wasn’t what they were going for. But. Wut. 

Also. Venom in the MCU? NO. Literally my worst nightmare. Maybe the last third was made earlier (since it takes a while to animate stuff) and the first 2 thirds got changed to set up venom as a villain in the MCU or something. Or they’re just incompetent af. Who tf knows. Anyway. From now on I will be watching the first Venom movie and the final scene of the sequel only. 

[noctilucid]

DannyMay Day 15: Nature

**References my Day 4 (Stars) drabble, but stands alone.**

"Circle up everybody!" Ms. Teslaff barked, rapping her walking stick on a boulder embedded in the trail.  "This camping trip is required by the state to be educational.  Therefore, you will be given a group assignment designed to meet municipal standards."  Mr. Lancer opened his messenger bag and started passing around packets and paper bags.  A ripple of complaints and muttered curses spread out through the group.  "You will be assigned a partner, and together you will search for and identify these plants.  Bring back a leaf for each plant in the packet to receive full credit."  

Paulina grimaced and looked down at her shoes for the tenth time that day.  She had thought they'd stay close to the cabins for this trip, and her usual cute flats would have served her just fine on the broad, packed paths cut by hundreds of students' feet in the years before.  But here she was, hiking in them.  The mud was bad enough, but all the uneven terrain was putting creases in the material every time she had to put her weight on the balls of her feet.  And now she was expected to go on a scavenger hunt?  What was she, five?  

"Paulina," Mr. Lancer said with a tired drawl as he read the names written on the brown paper bag on the top of his stack, "you will be partnered with Sam Manson."  He handed her the bag and a packet before moving on to the next group.  

Uhg, perfecto.  I'm with Creepy Manson.  They did this on purpose, didn't they?  Paulina cut her eyes at Sam as she stomped over in her combat boots, looking equally thrilled.  

"How many plants do we have to find?" Sam sighed, taking the packet from her.  She flipped through the pages.  "Well, at least these are all pretty distinctive."  

"I'm sure you're disappointed none of them can lay eggs in my face," Paulina returned with an edge.  She still hadn't forgiven Sam for that incident at the aquarium all those years ago.  

Sam narrowed her eyes, not looking up from the paper.  "Spores."

"What?"

"Plants don't lay eggs.  Some of them have spores."  She folded back a few pages and held up a picture of a fern they were supposed to locate.  "This one can lay spores in your face."  

Paulina raised her hand and waved at the teachers.  "Miss Teslaff, I want a different partner!  I don't want Sam to murder me and bury my body in the woods.  I'm too pretty to die."  

"No changing groups!"  

Paulina huffed and crossed her arms.  "Tough break," Dash said to her as he and Valarie headed off on one of the forks in the path.  

"Good luck!" Kwan chimed in, who was paired with Tucker.  "Hey, you got a plant identifying app on that thing…?"

"Do I ever!"  

Danny put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he followed Mikey uphill.  "Try not to be too hard on her?"  

"No promises," Sam grumbled.  

Soon the path had cleared out except for the two of them and two pairs of band nerds peering over their packets together.  

"Come on, let's get this over with," Sam said at length, grabbing Paulina by the wrist and hauling her off in a random direction.  

"Ow!  Hey, get off of me!"  

Sam did let go, and then scuffled up a tumble of boulders to a trail on higher ground.  Paulina let out a dramatic and frustrated groan before following her up much more slowly.  By the time she caught back up, Sam was standing in the shade of a tree growing out of a split in the rock, studying the packet again.  

"Oriental Thuja?" she said, forehead creased.  "Why would they even put that on here?  It's not native to this area."  

"So we won't be able to find it?" How much is this stupid assignment worth anyway?

"No, it could be here, but it's invasive."

Paulina rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you're going to be sacrimonious about plants now too."  

"Oh, of course," Sam returned.  "Because you only like nature if it's pretty and flatters you.  You can't be bothered to learn about something complicated like an ecosystem."  She headed down the trail at a brisk walk, grabbing a sapling and using it as a hand-hold as she swung herself down another steep portion.  

"Would you stop doing that?" Paulina yelled after her, but Sam didn't slow down.  "¡Joder!" she swore under her breath.  Somehow, she was going to make Sam regret this by the end of the day.  She just had to figure out how.  

***

A brooding 45 minutes later, and Sam had found five of the plants they were looking for with little help from Paulina.  

"Next is the purple coned larch…" Sam said, more to the paper held in front of her face than to Paulina.  "We should probably go uphill to look for it…"  Paulina died a little more inside.  No more climbing hills!

"Oh, is that one of the ones that's going to lay spores in my face?" Paulina sniped as Sam strode on ahead for the hundredth time.  "I guess you would end up with some weird kinks after being possessed by an ugly plant ghost."  

"You're the one who brought up the face eggs," Sam said, nonchalant, and notably not slowing down.  "I think that says more about you than about me."  

Paulina clenched her fists.  "Ugh!  You're such a freak, you know that?"

"Aaaand personal attacks mean you have no convincing arguments left in your arsenal!  Looks like it's Sam two, Paulina zero for the day so far."  Sam was steadily moving out of range, and Paulina was forced to follow if she wanted to continue the argument.  She was busy trying to think of a better jab while watching where she put her feet, but Sam beat her to the punch.  "It's kind of sad that you're still hung up on this actually.  Move on already."

Paulina gritted her teeth as the angle of the slope forced her to grab a muddy point of rock to haul herself up with.  "Would it kill you to apologize?  ¡Dios mío!”

"For what?"

"For harassing me with a starfish, Miss Don't-Be-Cruel-To-Animals!"  She stood up and tried to wipe her hand clean on a tree trunk.  "And I mean a real apology, not that stupid letter the teacher made you write."  

"Oh, yeah, to be clear, I didn't mean that apology letter."  

"It was clear," Paulina said, quiet and venomous.    

"I hope you shredded it or something.  I'm kind of embarrassed to have my name on the bottom of it."  

"I threw it in the fireplace as soon as I got home that day."  

"Well, that's a relief," Sam said with a performative grin.  "And no, after what you did to Danny, you'd better believe I'd eat a hot dog before I'd apologize to you."  

"I only went out with Danny to get under your skin!"

"Exactly."

Paulina's hands spasmed between gestures as she tried to collect herself.  "Did you ever think that maybe, if you weren't such a self-absorbed piece of shit, maybe your friends wouldn't get hurt as much?"

Sam's face went blank for a telling second before she focused back on the paper.  Paulina was a little surprised that jab had worked, actually, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She couldn't think of anything to follow up with, so she decided to allow the silence to be her victory.

And she's back to climbing again.  Someone kill me…

They had almost reached the summit of the hill they were on— Paulina was debating to herself whether it was tall enough to be considered a mountain— when Sam finally found what she was looking for.  The tree she was examining was scrawny and gnarled, squeezing its roots into the veins of available soil, and it was barely taller than they were.  

"I think this is it.  The needles look the same," Sam said, holding up the page for comparison.  "It would help if the picture wasn't in black and white, though."

Paulina cast a glance over the diagram and the plant in front of them.  "No, it doesn't have the little cones," she grumbled.  I swear to god, if we have to climb any higher…

"This one's pretty young.  I don't think it's old enough to have fruited before.  They take a couple of years to get established."  

"Well how can you tell if this is the right one?  There's a thousand different Christmas trees on this hill, and they all look the same."  Paulina shook her head.  "You know, whatever.  Let's just take a branch and go—"  She sputtered to a stop as Sam pushed the packet and paper bag full of samples into her hands.  Paulina adjusted the materials in her hands and watched as Sam stooped down, fished in her combat boot with two fingers, and pulled out something long and thin.  She pulled off the makeshift cap, revealing the stubby tip of a well-used oil pencil.  

Kneeling in front of the tree, Sam drew some intricate shape on the trunk with the dark blue pigment, then murmured something Paulina didn't catch.  In the shadow of the trees branches, Paulina saw the symbol glow faintly green, and the same light snaked up the tree along the ridges in the bark until it reached the closest branch.  With a quiver, the end of the branch put out fresh needles and then a tiny purple cone.  

"See?" Sam said, breaking off the end of the branch.  "Perfect match."

Paulina gaped like a fish. "You— Holy shit, you—"  Magic.  That was honest to god magic!  Paulina felt lightheaded.  She had been… dabbling.  Combing the internet and old bookstores.  At first, she had hoped to find a spell that could summon a ghost, or anything else she could use to get Phantom's attention.  But as the weeks had stretched into months, she had become desperate to find any scrap of genuine magic.  And here it was.  

"Are you— is that Wicca?" she finally managed.

Sam shook her head.  "Semitic Neopaganism.  There's a difference."  

Paulina paused to think on it.  Could I learn Jewish magic if I'm not Jewish?  Would it even work for me?  She chewed on her lip.  What am I saying?  There's no way Manson would teach me anything in the first place.  Then Sam started speaking softly, and Paulina had to shake out of her thoughts to catch it.

"I did think about apologizing," Sam said.  "Properly.  I was… kind of a mess in fifth grade.  Um.  And sixth and seventh too, actually."  Her eyes remained focused on the pine sprig in her hand as she spoke, slowly rotating it between her fingers.  "I've never liked you.  But that didn't make it right for me to pick on you."  She stood up and took back their paper bag, tucking the sample inside.  "But then you pulled Danny into it.  So, I'll never apologize."  She finally looked up and met Paulina's gaze.  "And neither will you."  Paulina opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Sam was an image of perfect calm.  It was not an accusation, not a barb, just a statement.  And Paulina had no idea how to respond.  "We're both petty bitches," Sam continued. "It's in our natures.  So… let's just move on."  She extended a hand to Paulina.  "Deal?"  

The offered hand was stiff and formal, as if this were a business meeting rather than two sweaty girls talking on a hiking trail, but Paulina saw an earnestness in it.  Slowly, she reached out and slid her own palm into Sam's.  

"Deal."  She watched Sam for a moment, her unwavering gaze, the ridiculous purple contacts, the stillness which had come over her, like a stone come to rest.  Not sophisticated or refined, as Paulina sought to be, but… very Sam.  Very self-assured, in a way Paulina pretended not to admire.  "We don't like each other."

"Naturally."  Sam released her hand and turned to head back down the slope.  

"But we… don't hate each other either.  We just... are.  Now."  

Paulina saw the little quirk of a smile enter Sam's lips.  "Yeah."  

"And maybe… we can talk about magic sometimes?"  She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Like, over text, so nobody gets the wrong idea?"

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah.  That sounds fun."  

A smile crept over Paulina's face in spite of her attempt to hide it.  Oh, what does it matter?  Sam's not looking at me anyway.  She gave herself a moment to squeal silently in her head.  Real magic!  She'd found someone who knew real magic!  She shook her head again.  Of course it would be Manson.  Of course.  

She picked up her pace, in spite of her sore feet, in spite of the damage she was doing to her shoes, to catch up to Sam.  It was easier going downhill.  "What do we still have to find?"  

Sam extended the packet to her, pointing to one of the plants.  "Just two left, lady fern and honeysuckle.  They both like to grow near water, so I saved them for last.  We can head down and check the creek on our way back."  Oh thank god, we're almost done.  Paulina leaned in to get a better look at the fern diagram.  "You know, there's a spell I've been working on that uses ferns.  Maybe we should grab a couple extra?"  

Paulina squealed out loud this time, and clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers.  "Solemn.  Solemn goth witch."  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look composed.  Sam laughed.  

"Nah, you don't have the wardrobe for that.  Go on, be as pink as you'd like."  She stepped down a bank of tree roots and held a branch back for Paulina to follow in her wake.  Paulina paused in surprise before accepting the gesture.

This will take some getting used to.  

[static-fanatic-1]

Tattooed-Uvogin

(Tattoo Soulmate AU- Where tattoos are shared by soulmates, if a soulmate dies then the other looses their ability to have nen and the tattoo disappears. I love soulmate AU's, they're fun. Also when Uvogin gets the spider tattoo he will be 24.)

(Female Reader)

College is usually portrayed in two ways, absolutely fantastic where breaking into song is the norm, or a horrid experience akin to horny Lovecraftian creatures. In this case the song song type of college is the norm.

Most individuals in college receive a tattoo, whether it be their own or their soulmates. Usually it is a happy occasion when that happens. Most would flaunt their new mark and spit out how much they wanted to meet their soulmate, but (y/n) was an exception.

Junior year, the hope of a new age of adulthood quickly coming up. The twenty-two old started to strip. Why strip? Well because she had decided to wait her junior year to get her athletic credit, and because she wanted to see a tattoo if she were to get one. But the first reason is what people think. Practically tearing off the jacket she wore and tossing it onto a bench, (y/n) jumped at the sudden shrieks and hollers from across the room.

"Lilith! Holy shit look!" Deciding to see what the commotion was about, (y/n) leaned over to watch the event unfold. On her lower back, almost covered by her shoulder length blonde hair, was a beautiful koi tattoo. As if swimming the splash of blue, orange and cream colors contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone.

"What?! Oh my god show me!" Lilith squealed, pushing away girls to get to the nearest mirror. The brightest smile decorated her pink lips and when she finally saw the new mark on her shoulder, she waved around her hands and jumped with unrivaled joy. "I can't fucking believe it!"

"Do you think he just turned 21? Like today's his birthday or something?" Another girl exclaimed, staring at the inked shin with awe.

"Probably! Most people get them when they turn 21. God I'm so excited! I'm posting this everywhere to see if someone answers."

More girls crowded around Lilith, the light tapping of gentle fingers bringing (y/n) back to her senses. Turning around the female met with her dearest friend. "What?"

"Ms. Venal will snap at us if we aren't ready, best not to get on her bad side again. She might make us do push-ups for a warm up again." The soft voice and her light brown hair and eyes pairing nicely with her shy personality.

"Oh shit you're right." Swiftly (y/n) moved back to the back of the locker room, pulling off her pants at the same time. Replacing them with gym shorts with the school logo she quickly followed by her favorite shirt.

Grabbing the school shirt she jumped when someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. "(Y/n)! Your back!"

Before (y/n) could protest she was pulled to her friends locker with a hand mirror shoved in her face. Hesitantly she grabbed it and moved it around her face, trying to see what Jessy was talking about. Finally, a large dark tattoo revealed itself on her lower back, spider legs and a white eleven in the center.

"Looks like a spider, but with twelve legs? Weird." Jessy replied, lightly tracing the many legs now inked into her friend's skin. "You seem... disappointed? (Y/n) you good?"

(Y/n) shrugged, surprisingly it was underwhelming compared to what she thought it would be like. I mean the weird spider on her back was the key to finding her soulmate right? Yet it still felt like a normal school day. "Kinda underwhelming I guess."

"Hey (y/n), you got one too? I honestly thought you wouldn't get one." The snarky voice of Lilith echoed in the locker room, a new hand placing itself on (y/n)'s shoulder. "A spider, really?"

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, Jessy moving to put on the last of her clothes. "They probably just like spiders, so what?"

"Looks like they don't know how to count, that's sad." Lilith remarked, poking at the inked flesh. "Didn't you get a tattoo not too long ago, what was it again?"

"A (favorite animal)." (Y/n) mumbled grabbing her school shirt and putting it on.

"Wow, classic."

(Y/n) pretty much had enough of this and turned to the blonde with vigor. Placing a figure on the new koi fish tattoo. "Wow, classic cunt."

The blonde scoffed, but was quickly interrupted when the teacher called out. "Girls, hurry up or you all are going to do more push-ups!"

Lilith mumbles underneath her breath, venomous words that didn't pass (y/n). "Go fuck yourself." She had said.

In a last ditch effort to get some satisfaction, the (h/c) haired girl turned to the blonde and smiled. "After you."

Man school was just dandy.

~~~

For some reason the drive home felt longer than usual, the songs uninteresting and slow.  But that didn't stop the sigh of relief when entering her home. Maybe telling her parents about the tattoo would bring up her spirits? They always wanted to see what it would end up being.

"Momma! I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled, letting the fact sink in to any occupants.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, and paused. Her dad, usually sitting with his back straight and glasses on, now held his lenses with his face in his hand. "Hey dad, you're home early. Everything alright?"

Swiftly his head shot up, (h/c) hair messy unlike usual. "Huh? Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine, just a lot of work is all. We're still trying to find who stole Ruby Red, that jewel is worth a few billion Jenny."

The man's daughter pulled a chair and sat down across from him, opening her snack to start eating it. "I still can't believe someone was able to take it, isn't the security pretty high?"

"Yup, and Ruby Red wasn't the only thing they took. They took a few other gems too." Her mother butted in, placing a kiss upon her husband's cheek. "Whoever did it defiantly had help, you're dad placed too many security guards for it to have been one guy."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, the fact it was more than one person sans all too surprising, but how did they get past the armed guards in the first place? "So what exactly happened? Like to the guards I mean."

"Well... that's just it. We don't know." The dad rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built. "They just vanished... poof, gone. No sign of a struggle, no blood, all of it gone."

The mother removed her hand and pulled up a chair, sitting down and taking a sip of whatever is in her mug. "Yeah, pretty crazy stuff. I've been looking through the cameras and I think they have been tampered with. Whoever took the merchandise wasn't a rookie. They knew what they were doing."

"Who do you guys think did it? The mafia?" The daughter asked, looking at both her parents.

"A new group has been floating around, something called the Phantom Troupe. They are pretty much the worst of the worst." The brunette mother replied, placing her cup down and getting more comfortable.

"Worse than the mafia?" (Y/n) questioned.

"Pretty much, this gang took out the entire Kurta clan just a few months ago. They took their eyes and everything." There was a pause, easily taken up by the gravity of the situation her parents were in.

Her father butted in. "Anyway, anything happened at school? How's Jessy doing, she can come over for dinner tonight too. Martha said she was making lobster claws and steak."

"Ah, well, Jessy's doing fine and I'm sure she'd love to come over again. I'll go ahead and text her." (Y/n) pulled out her phone and did just that, asking if her friend wanted to come over again.

"What else, I feel like your hiding something." Martha asked, leaning closer to her daughter with a sly smile.

Small bits of sweat started to form on her brow, right now didn't exactly seem like a good time to talk about an odd tattoo. "Well I cursed someone out, that was fun."

Her dad groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god was it that Lilith bitch again?"

"Edgar!" Martha snapped, slapping the man on his shoulder and she lightly scolded him. The both of them knew their daughters relationship with that girl. All they had to say is if the coward ever threw a punch, to lay her ass on that ground. (Y/n) was still waiting for her to throw it.

A small ping from a phone ringed, the daughter pulling hers out and slightly smiling. At least when Jessy comes over she would have emotional support over the weird tattoo. "Yeah, it was her again. Anyway, mom do you want any help, Jessy said she would come over."

"Sure, honey. I'd like that."

~~~

The air was tense, sweat slowly forming on (y/n)'s brows as her dearest friend babbled on and on about her early day bravery. "Lilith couldn't say a word to us for the rest of the day! It was hilarious." Jessy boasted, laughing at the sense painted in her head.

Though Martha and Edgar looked at their daughter dumbfounded. "Sooo, is there a reason why you didn't tell us about your new tattoo?" The mother asked, leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand.

"Ah, well you know, it's kinda embarrassing."

"Seriously, you didn't tell them?!"

"I said it's embarrassing!" (Y/n) reinstated, moving her hands in front of her face to attempt stopping the forming blush.

"So! Show us!" Martha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

(Y/n) grumbled a bit and stood up from her chair, lightly pulling up the back of her shirt. On her lower back the sideways spider laid, twelve legs spread out for the world to see.

Silence followed, the air thicker than it once was. "Yeah, it's a little weird. Honestly it was underwhelming getting it." (Y/n) tried to release the growing tension with a light laugh, though it didn't do much.

"Y-Yeah, it is a little weird isn't it?" Edgar had replied, moving to lightly trace his fingers on the inked skin. "Well I don't think most people have twelve-legged spiders on their backs so it shouldn't be too difficult to find out who this guy is."

~~~

Those words meant so much now, after seeing the news talk about Ruby Red's disappearance and how it was linked to a group of mass murderers, the words felt heavy.

Changing to homeschooling was the first thing to happen, as having people see such a dangerous tattoo could endanger your family. Hunters would travel far and wide to catch the soulmate of a Phantom Troupe member, to sell or kill them for the highest price tag. So being around other reckless students was a big no-no.

Next was their home, moving to the outskirts of York New city to start fresh, where no one would know who they were. Getting a new job wasn't too difficult for Martha and Edgar, as security personnel was important everywhere.

Though (y/n) herself wasn't allowed a job, too risky they would say. And Jessy, well at least she was still there. The friend would visit every so often to catch up, and texting each other became an everyday occurrence.

It had been five years since that dinner, and now fear and anxiety ruled over (y/n)'s life. Walking on the streets it seemed every passerby was a possible hunter, just waiting to catch her and slit her throat.

(Y/n) could only trust Jessy and her parents.

The ringing of a phone smacked the female from her train of thoughts, papers she was once working on discarded. Picking up the device and placing it on her ear, a sweet voice rang with an excited undertone. "Yo, (y/n). Whatcha up to?"

A delicate smile pulled at the (h/c) haired lips. "Fine, just doing mom and dads paperwork. Kinda the only job they'll let me have."

There a was a light hearted laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well I'm going to have a few days off of work it you want to meet up and have a few drinks. I'll be coming in sometime tomorrow evening if you want to meet up then?"

"I'd love to, I'll just have to ask mom and dad, you know how they are."

"Yeah, can't blame them though. I mean it's scary."

"Yeah... I'll call you a little later with an answer okay? See you later Jessy, tell me when you get here and I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Alright, sounds good to me! Bye-bye!"

"Bye." Her smile faded when the phone call ended, at least it wouldn't be too bad. Now she just had to get on her knees and beg her parents.

Searching through the apps on the phone she ended up on the calling one, but paused. 'I'll just ask them when they get home, I'll drive over there soon.' Tossing the electronic on her bed (y/n) sighed and leaned back in her seat.

~~~

After plenty of begging and a semi-long drive to the airport, the now ecstatic girls drove around the city to wherever this bar was.

"Okay okay, (y/n), don't get mad at me but I invited a few other friends." Jessy timidly said, scrunching her body as close as possible to her seat.

"Who?" Was all said, making the other girl all the more afraid of an anxious outburst.

"Just a girl I met the bar once, her name is Shizuku. She said she's bringing another friend over, another girl. Don't worry though she's a bit of an airhead, an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her." Jessy relaxed, not noticing any changes with her friend's behavior. "Sorry I wanted to tell you but if you told Edgar and Martha they probably wouldn't have let you go! I just really wanted to hang out with you."

"Don't worry, mom and dad don't have to know." (Y/n) turned and gave a small wink before turning back to the road.

Jessy sighed, relieved to finally have some fun without much worry. "Oh oh! Right here!" The car slowly drove into the parking lot, the two searching for a spot to park. "Oh! They're over there." The two girls exited and quickly made their way to another pair.

The first girl Jessy walked to and hugged had shoulder length black hair and large round glasses. Large, plum doe like eyes gazed at (y/n) with innocent intrigue. Her casual wear consisting of a long black sleeved shirt and black shorts complimented her hourglass body type. She honestly looked adorable.

The other was a blonde clearly taller than her ravenette friend. Calculating eyes, short hair in a bob and a hooked nose gave her a demanding audience. The woman wore a red, low cut baby doll dress that ended on her mid thigh, and black heels making her even taller.

"Okay guys, this is (y/n), she's been my friend ever since middle school." Jessy placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, (y/n) shyly waving and saying hello. "And (y/n) this is Shizuku and her number two, Pakunoda." They too did the same thing.

"Alrighty! Now that we have all the introductions out of the way!" Exclaimed Jessy, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and waving for the other two to follow. "Let's get absolutely trashed!"

Pakunoda snorted and followed, all four of them entering the not-so-much-a-bar-as-it-is-a-club building.

Jessy grabbed a table, putting some of her things down to mark it as her own. "I'll go ahead and get something to get this party started! Anything in particular you guys want?"

Shizuku places a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Pakunoda wrapped an arm around the ravenette and shook her head. "Surprise us."

(Y/n) quickly waved her hands. "Don't get me something strong, I'll be the designated driver." She laughed, Shizuku finally making up her mind.

"Something fruity!"

She did somewhat seem like an airhead.

After plenty of drinks for the four, and pleasant conversation between the girls, Jessy was finally breaking under the alcohol. Her slim build swaying even when she sat in the booth's chair. "Y'all wanna hear a funny story? Or at least its funny to me." She slurred.

Pakunoda, sitting on the outside of the curved booth, leaned in. "Sure." Elbow now on the table and head in her hand. A delicate smile etched onto her lips, her eyes calculating as an extra hand served her drink.

(Y/n) listened to her start talking about Lilith, the old school bully having many stories about her. "I'm going to go to the restroom." She tapped Jessy's shoulders and moved over and out of the conversation.

Shizuku listened carefully to the slurring female, Pakunoda doing the same. Slowly the story became interesting, talking about receiving tattoos and snapping at the girl named Lilith.

But more importantly, a tattoo received on a lower back. (Y/n)'s lower back.

By the time said female returned all had paused, both Shizuku and Pakunoda silent but attentive. Jessy moved over to let her friend back in the booth they had claimed, Pakunoda placing a slender arm across her shoulders. "You have quite the temper don't you?"

Remembering what they had been talking about, the comment didn't surprise (y/n) all that much. "Lilith? Haha, yeah I hated her. She was difficult to deal with, always trying to one up everyone." (Y/n) waved her hand around to dismiss her temper, truly she couldn't stand people like Lilith. "Don't worry I'm much better now." Again she lightly laughed.

"You seem like it, you're so shy. I honestly didn't expect a story like that." Paku replied, leaning in a little closer.

"Which one was it? I've kinda snapped at her a lot."

"The one where ya' finally got yer tattoo~!" Jessy replied, sandwiching the poor girl between the two.

(Y/n)'s entire body went rigid, her breathing slightly labored by her hammering heartbeat. 'No, no, no Jessy couldn't have told that story, she wouldn't. She knows how dangerous it is for me already, telling people would make it worse!'

She would be hunted by hunters and the Phantom Troupe alike if the wrong people were to find out.

Doing her best to relax, her shoulders not so tense anymore. "Ye-Yeah, it's a bit of a strange one but I don't mind it too much. What time is it?"

Shizuku looked at her phone, her mouth wishing to yap about how Uvogin would love the girl. Or how Uvogin is just a call away from finding his soulmate. OR ANYTHING RELATED! But alas, the bone crushing grip placed on her thigh along with straight up saying it earlier, told her to shut it.

Now with a pouting face she checked the time. "It's 12:48."

Mumbling a short 'shit', (y/n) grabbed her purse and stood up. "Sorry! I was supposed to go home an hour ago!" She examined her phone with a pale face, not just from her tattoo being revealed, but the endless messages from her parents. "Does anyone need a ride?"

Jessy leaned in more, her lips ghosting (y/n)'s ear. "I would love to ride."

Pushing her drunk friend off, (y/n) made her way out of the booth, Jessy wrapped in her arms as the girl stumbled. "You two?"

Shizuku lifted her finger, her mouth opening to speak, but was quickly stopped when a hand smacked itself on her lips. "Don't worry about us." Paku replied, waving a dismissive hand.

"Al-alright. Well we'll be off then, take care!" Quickly grabbing her things, and Jessy, the two slipped out of the club.

Shizuku smacked Paku's hand away and pushed up her glasses. "What was that for?!"

Pakunoda shifted out of her seat, looking around at the other inhabitants of the establishment. "You were going to say something about Uvo, weren't you?"

The ravenette pursed her lips and turned away, scooting out of the booth as well. "So what if I was? It wouldn't stop us from getting her anyway." Whined the girl.

"It would have made getting her harder, she's already cautious of everyone." The two girls exited the bar, stopping to watch (y/n)'s car drive away. "Besides it won't be too difficult for Shalnark to find her."

"Didn't you touch her?" Shizuku pushed her glasses up once more, turning to wonder off to home base.

"Of course, she was very anxious the entire time, and she was weary of us from the beginning."

The ravenette hummed, both wondering through the lit up city. Smoke polluted the air of the alleyways they traveled through, the moonlight basking the criminals in an ethereal glow. The alleyway became too quiet, the once light sounds of buzzing insects feasting on the dumpsters silenced.

The girls stopped, looking at the empty sidewalk in front of them. They could sense two individuals, on in front of them and the other behind. Were the stalkers going to try and jump them? Did they know who they are? Well it doesn't matter, the stalkers will be dead soon.

"Well well well," A gruff voice echoed from behind. "Looks like the butterflies flew into the spider's web. How about you two be sweethearts and tell me about that friend of yours? The one with the (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes."

Shizuku turned around to face the man, noting the switch blade open and poised in his hands. "He has a knife, Paku."

The man 'tsk'ed slowly walking closer to the girls. Paku stared straight ahead, the other stalker finally revealing himself, a scrawny man with a baggy shirt and large knife.

Pakunoda sighed and pulled out her revolver, aiming straight between the scrawny man's eyes. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight." A quick pull of the trigger and a loud bang caused the man to fall over, a small hole oozing blood and smoke between his glossy orbs.

Shizuku summoned Blinky and with a quick bonk on his head, the gruff voiced man collapsed to the ground.

"Shizuku, is he dead?"

"I didn't hit him that hard." With a hum and a finger on his neck. "Nope, he's alive."

"Good." She swayed over to the man and placed a hand upon his cheek. A rush of memories and emotions entered her mind, like the ripples in water. "They weren't alone, they called others before following us. We should hurry before they find her first."

"They'll kill her won't they?"

"Probably."

"Uvogin would loose his nen if that happened, hmm, we can't let that happen."

Nothing new happened after their encounter, the dark streets now baron by the late night and the rundown buildings. Turning the corner to enter the hideout, a face revealed itself, young and distressed, their thin black brows furrowed.

No words were exchanged, the girls entering without a care. A sigh left the short man's lips as he walked with them into the church. "Machi had a feeling again. What happened?"

Shizuku hopped her way onto a pile of rubble and sat down with an impassive expression. "We were attacked by some thugs on our way back. Though, it was more like a one-way-massacre."

The entire Troupe was in the broken down office building, there were preparing to infiltrate a museum filled with priceless artifacts, but it might have to be postponed.

Feitan didn't look at Shizuku, already knowing her information may very well be useless. "Paku?"

"Shizuku's friend brought a number two as well, she just so happened to be a soulmate." Pakunoda teased, crossing her arms.

The small group playing cards stopped, even Chrollo averted his eyes from his book of interest. Feitan's brows lifted slightly, probably in surprise.

"Ah! That happened too."

Franklin snorted, placing down his cards and shifting to face Paku. Shalnark, Nodunaga, Machi, Kortopi, Bonolenov, and Franklin were huddled up in a small circle playing cards, though the game was now paused. Uvogin, the secret star of the show, was rooting for Nodu to finally win a game. "Who?"

A delicate smirk etched itself on her features, a slender finger pointing to the bear-like man sitting behind Nobunaga.

With that action taken, the bear-like man grabbed Nobunaga and wrapped his arm around his head. The other hand pulling out the ponytail and messing up his hair as a boisterous laughs echoed throughout the building.

Franklin smacked a hand on Uvogin's shoulder and congratulated them, Nobu yelling for Uvo to let go. Once he finally let him go, the shorter man smacked Uvo.

Uvogin didn't exactly care, all he knew is that his soulmate was found and that she was his next target. "Keep talking Paku." Uvo kindly ordered, curiosity taking hold.

"Well she's pretty cute, (h/l) (h/c) hair, bright (e/c) eyes. She's pretty attentive." Pakunoda waved her hands around, finding a seat on the opposite side of the large room.

Another hearty laugh escaped the bellows of his chest. "Finally! Took her long enough." He exclaimed, clapping and rubbing hands together. "Where is she?"

Pakunoda shrugged. "Her name is (y/n) (l/n), Shal will have to figure that out."

Chrollo hummed, grabbing the attention of the room. "Uvo, once you find out where she lives I want you to get her, it would be a shame if you lost your nen." He paused and placed a bookmark in his spot. "Paku does anyone else know?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes, the thugs overheard and called a few of their friends. I don't know how many."

Chrollo hummed once more, leaning in a bit closer to the group. "Once Shal figures out her whereabouts I want you and Nabu to go with Uvo. And be cautious, we don't know how strong the hunters will be."

Uvogin laughed, hands on his hips as he threw his head back. "I will."

"Found her!" Shalnark yelped, a bright smile stretched across his cheeks. "(Y/n) (l/n), lives in the New Found Apartment Complex about three blocks from her parents. Oh! Edgar and Martha (l/n), they work as security managers for the museum we were targeting." Shalnark excitedly exclaimed, waving his phone around in the air. "I'll send you the address, Uvo."

Feitan quirked an eyebrow. "She might know which hunters were hired to protect the exhibit."

Chrollo hummed once more, returning to his book with a calm expression. "That might be the case, if so then there we could be better prepared." The sultry voice of the boss explained further her use, not just for Uvogin but the entire team.

Uvogin cracked his knuckles, waving to Nobunaga and Pakunoda to follow. "Consider it done."

~~~

(Thats it everyone! Sadly Wattpad allows for larger chapters so this will be put into two parts to accomadate.)

[heartsofbeskar]

from the ashes

chapter two | read on AO3

din djarin x oc

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking

WORDS: 2.6K

EXCERPT: As she lowered the small ramp, the harsh light of Nevarro flooded the interior of the ship. She stepped down onto the sand, her boots sinking ever so slightly into the soft material. Bending down, she picked up a handful of it as the ramp raised and closed behind her, locking mechanisms clicking into place. The sand was warm in her hand, and flowed down like liquid through her fingers. She always found it somewhat mesmerizing.

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Her eyes flickered open the moment the ship dropped out of hyperspace. She had finely tuned herself to the sensations of it, such that even in the hammock she slept in, she could feel the change in the hull, the vibrations shifting with the deceleration. The internal alarm never failed her.

And for many years, hyperspace travel had been the only time she could sleep. Traveling through superluminal space, it felt like the only time she couldn’t be hunted by a pack of wild animals, otherwise nipping always at her heels, no matter how fast she ran. In hyperspace, it was just her and the hum of the Ursa’s hull.

She slid her feet into her boots and stepped off the still swaying hammock. The door to the cockpit was open, and she stood behind the pilot’s seat, gazing out the window. They were in the Nevarro system, and the volcanic planet loomed in the distance. She could see a couple ships flying in the vicinity and she bristled — likely those were bounty hunters. There was no bounty on her head, she knew this much, but it made her uncomfortable nonetheless.

Reaching over the comm panel, she toggled the controls for voice activation.

“Send current coordinates to Greef Karga, secure channel ‘guild-alpha-three’ only.”

Taking one last look at the approaching planet, she turned to go towards the refresher.

“See you soon.”

��

There were very few things she loved in the galaxy, but damn her ship was sure one of them. So, she cursed venomously as the Ursa touched down much harder than usual. She’d have to get that looked at, no doubt. And on a ship that was made from components spanning multiple eras of galactic history, there was never any way to know just how much credits repairs would cost.

“Alright girl, one more job, then I’ll bring you over to Jula, and she’ll look after you like always. Tell you what, I’ll even spring for some oil to the joints and a wash.”

The ship didn’t answer back, but she smiled all the same. It truly felt like a part of her, an extension, one that had come through for her so many times when living beings hadn’t.

As she lowered the small ramp, the harsh light of Nevarro flooded the interior of the ship. She stepped down onto the sand, her boots sinking ever so slightly into the soft material. Bending down, she picked up a handful of it as the ramp raised and closed behind her, locking mechanisms clicking into place. The sand was warm in her hand, and flowed down like liquid through her fingers. She always found it somewhat mesmerizing.

The town wasn’t as she remembered. Granted, it had been a while, but it seemed to have a life she hadn’t seen here before. Instead of bounty hunters lingering in doorways, citizens smiled and waved at each as they passed. Street vendors haggled over their brightly coloured merchandise. Hell, there was even children running through the streets.

She didn’t miss the occasional glimpse of a blaster tucked under a cloak, however. She knew Karga would never leave the guild behind so easily. The man in question stepped out from a building to her right, throwing his arms wide.

“My dear Halla! Welcome, welcome, to the new and improved Nevarro!” He grinned, obviously quite proud. She couldn’t help but echo with a small smile of her own.

“I have to admit it, Karga, you’ve done a good job with the place,” she said, stopping in front of him. “But you can’t be that legitimate if you’re calling me here.”

“Hey now, your business is perfectly legitimate,” he insisted, ushering her inside a small office space. The second room they entered contained what she guessed was his desk, as he busied himself in the cabinet behind it. “Even for the New Republic, there’s nothing illegal about hiring an investigator.”

“The methods may leave something to be desired,” she said, settling herself into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. He scoffed, finally pulling out a narrow bottle, and pouring equal portions into two short glasses on the desk, no doubt sitting there for this exact purpose. He said nothing more as he extended one of the drinks to her, and she accepted it with a shrug. ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,” was a particularly common mindset among her clientele, especially those of a political nature.

She examined the glass in her hand closely, light catching on its many rivets. “And what became of those Imperials you had running around here?” She tried to keep her tone nonchalant, but didn’t think she really managed it. Karga’s face went serious for the first time as he held up his own glass and sat down across from her.

“It’s a long story — one I’d be happy to tell you over more drinks, later — but they’re gone. I promise.”

She nodded shortly, gesturing to him with the glass, before quickly tipping it back and pouring the liquid down her throat. It didn’t matter much what it was, as long as it burned. Returning her now empty glass to the table, she saw Karga doing the same with his drink.

“Shall we talk business?” he asked, the smile returning to his face once more. She leaned back in her chair.

“By all means. You know my interest in Guild contracts hasn’t changed — as legitimate as you appear now, I know it’s still operating.”

“I told you,” he responded, waggling his finger at her slightly. “It’s not a Guild contract. It would be under all your terms, non-refundable deposit, et cetera, et cetera.”

She leaned forward now, elbows settling on the desk. “So… what do you need found?”

—

Din was glad to give the rental ship back after unloading the bounties. He exchanged them for his credits with the Guild droids as quickly as he could, eyes scanning the hangar. He recognized most of the ships… there was one sitting in between some transports he hadn’t seen before. It was small, one level as far as he could tell, and seemed jumbled together from parts spanning multiple sectors.

He stopped to examine it as he headed into the town. A small plaque was attached next to the ramp’s control pad. Din could just make out a name — Ursa, it read. He liked it.

His beskar clad no longer drew many stares walking through town. He was becoming somewhat of a fixture in the landscape, a thought which made him bristle underneath his skin.

Letting himself into Karga’s office, he heard muffled voices from the next room. He was about to drop into the nearest seat to wait, but the tone of one of the voices changed, rising in volume and agitation. Din fingered his blaster lightly. He stalked over to the door, pushing on it slightly where it stood ajar, and it revealed the scene to him.

“—did you really think I would agree—” The woman who was yelling now abruptly cut off, whipping her head in his direction. Her eyes seem to pierce through him; one of them, a vast ice covered ocean and the other an endless black hole.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Her head swiveled back to Greef Karga for a moment, then returned to him. She seemed to be taking a very deliberate moment to assess him, eyes roving over his armour. He thought he saw surprise in them for a moment, but in the next it was gone.

“No,” she said, fingering the knife strapped in her belt lightly. “I was just leaving.”

Sparing one more glance at Karga, she slipped past him through the doorway he still stood in. She looked up at him again as she did, and Din got the unnerving feeling she knew exactly where his eyes lay underneath his helmet. Then she was gone.

“Ah, Mando,” Karga sighed, sitting himself down in his chair defeatedly. “Apologies for my friend there, we were discussing a … delicate proposition.”

“She didn’t sound like a friend,” Din said, sitting in the chair opposite. He ran his hand tiredly over his helmet, as if it were his bare forehead.

“Well, more of an acquaintance really,” the other man admitted, shifting in the seat. “You may have heard of her — she’s known as The Finder. Done a lot of jobs in the Outer Rim.”

He had heard of her by reputation. “Is she a member of the Guild?”

Karga scoffed. “No, no — she would be insulted at the very notion of it. Trust me, I’ve tried. She’d be a good rival for you, for top hunter in the Guild.”

Din ignored this. “Do you have the next set of quarries for me?”

“Actually, my dear Mando, I will do you one better!” Karga reached for a holopad that sat on one side of the desk. “And it has to do with that lovely lady who was just in here. You see, she doesn’t do living bounties, but she’ll do pretty much anything else. Or … so I thought, anyway.”

The holopad lit up, projecting the image of a wiry, old man, dressed in a medical looking robe. Din didn’t miss his hands cuffed in front of him — a mugshot. Greef Karga’s voice dropped into a serious tone.

“Dr. Raymus Dracko. An imperial geneticist, said to have worked closely with Vader and the Emperor himself. He’s been in New Republic custody since the Empire fell but six months ago … he escaped. Aided by a contingent of Stormtroopers, no less.”

Din felt bile rise in his throat. It all felt too similar, too much like Pershing, who had and would have hurt Grogu. Did this doctor know about Grogu, too? Would he go after him?

“If he escaped six months ago, why are you bringing this to me now? Shouldn’t the New Republic marshals be looking for him?”

“They are, Mando, but there are rumours. Rumours … that there was a reason he was taken out of the prison. That there’s a research facility, buried somewhere in the Outer Rim. That he was taken there to work on a biological weapon for the Empire. A weapon they’d test on locals.” Karga shook his head, looking disturbed. “The justice of the New Republic isn’t willing to act on rumour, but I know these sources, Mando. They wouldn’t have brought this to me if they weren’t sure. And I’m not willing to let the Outer Rim be used as cannon fodder for galactic disputes any longer.”

Din fingered the edge of his helmet slowly, turning the information over in his head. His thoughts again went to Grogu. He knew Karga was right, that the Outer Rim was the proverbial punching bag of war, that it wasn’t fair. But more than that, he knew Grogu could very likely still be out there as he was trained, him and the other Jedi just waiting targets if this information was good. Karga didn’t ask if he would do it, but he didn’t have to.

“It’s a dangerous job, Mando. And we don’t even know where this facility is … which is why we need her.” He gestured to the doorway the woman — the Finder — had stormed out of just moments ago. “If anyone can find it, it’s going to be her.”

“She didn’t seem very willing,” Din finally spoke, leaning back in the chair.

“No, which is a problem,” Karga admitted. He shook his head. “She seems to have a sore spot where the Empire’s concerned. Can’t blame her. But I need her, damn it. You do, if you’re going to pull it off.”

He stood, pulling a bag from the cabinet against the wall. Tossing it on the desk, it made a solid thump, a sound Din knew as credits.

“You’d both be rewarded handsomely, of course. Here’s a down payment for you both. Splitting the entire pay between you, you’ll still have enough for a decent ship of your own. I know how you hate those rentals.”

He did hate those fucking rentals. Slowly, Din reached across the table, taking the bag into his hand, testing the weight.

“So I suppose,” Karga groaned, sitting back down. “The first part of the job will be convincing her to do the job.”

—

She was pissed. She was livid. She was …. she couldn’t even think of a word in Basic that would express it correctly.

Anchoring herself in the town’s only small cantina, she ordered the strongest drink she could see stocked on the dusty shelves behind the bar. The familiar burn eased the rage that threatened to spill out of her body.

And she wasn’t angry at Greef Karga, not really, despite raising her voice to him in his office. He was right, it was a job suited to her contract, her skill set. No, her rage was turned inward at herself, at her memories, at her own mind that couldn’t quell the mountain of emotion that the mere mention of the Empire stirred within her.

She put her head in her hand, eyes closing for a moment. Flashes crossed the inside of her eyelids. Blaster fire, boots trampling the ground in front of her eyes, those damned white suits, running towards her…

The creak of the stool next to her pulled her attention. She wasn’t surprised to see the Mandalorian from Karga’s office settle into it.

“We were never introduced,” she said, setting her glass down. She turned her head in his direction, meeting the cool black sheen of his visor. “I’m Halla. I’d ask your name, but I know you wouldn’t give it to me.”

“Just like I know that’s not your name,” he noted, but his tone was neutral. She raised an eyebrow. He didn’t press further, instead pulling a holopad from underneath his cloak. The Mandalorian said nothing, placing it on the bar between them. She didn’t need to ask what it was.

“I already told Karga, I’m not doing his job,” she snapped, eyes returning to her drink. “I keep my fingers far away from Empire business — that way I don’t get burned.”

Her companion said nothing, continuing to look in her direction. She shrugged, leaving the holopad untouched. The minutes stretched between them that way, and she didn’t know how many it had been before he spoke. Her drink was empty now.

“I was a lot like you, once. I kept my head down, worked for credits, didn’t ask questions,” he said slowly, as if struggling to get the words out. “Didn’t bother to try, because I didn’t think it would make any difference … until it did. And as long as the Empire lingers, they will hurt people like they’ve hurt you already.”

Her hand tightened around the glass. When she still said nothing, he sighed, continuing, “I’m willing to take just enough of the payment to buy myself a small ship — you can keep the rest.”

With that he stood, leaving her with the holopad. As she eyed it, she cursed under her breath, feeling that familiar tug inside of her, pulling, pulling, pulling until—

“Mandalorian,” she said, turning to face his retreating form. He stopped, only a few feet from her. “Meet me at my ship at 06:00 standard hours. The Ursa.”

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

When tensions break too often- a dark side au story

So I got my ideas back for some angst and some tension in this au, and I just couldnt resist writing it. Plus its a good way to warm me back up into doing things for this au.

This is also a bit of a deeper dive into the dynamics of darkside! Virgil and the other dark sides and how they all bounce and thrive off each other, as well a some backstory and peeks at the full effects of Deceit leaving( jealousy is with the dark sides but is only mentioned, he currently doesnt make much of an appearance in this one in particular, he gets his own angst later)

This was fun to write, not gonna lie. Its been awhile an this is gonna be long so buckle up with me

I also got alot of inspiration to finally write this out(and revise parts of it) due in part to @aimasup ‘s recent comics and writings about their kid sides(which I love, like alot alot and I hope they dont mind me getting super inspired by it!)

ships: Past prinxiety, past anxciet, implied intruxiety, implied intrulogical, implied intruloxiety, implied one sided remus x wrath, implied past demus, implied current roceit

Im putting a trigger warning here for cussing, fighting(verbal and physical), descriptions of panic attacks and emotional breakdowns, violence, gross and inappropriate language, some body horror descriptions, as well as implied unsympathetic sides(all sides are morally grey but the perspective is biased towards the dark sides as its seen from Wrath’s view- keep that in mind)

Things are about to get angsty my friends but i promise it ends happy(for once in this au)

I hope you guys enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~

Wrath Sanders had a lot more patience then almost everyone gave him credit for. Most considered him the biggest hothead there was, going off at the first irritation. But, the truth was he was eerily patient...Sure he may simmer and seethe and hold onto things in unhealthy grudges, but he never lost his cool as often as some would want you to believe.

Wrath Sanders kept his cool during many things, even if that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He had sat back through many things, biting his tongue to hold back the venom and yelling and grinding his teeth together in anger and forced himself to sit through many many things that happened around him out of respect- out of a deep fucking respect- for Virgil’s Fear’s Anxiety’s authority. Instead, he watched shit go down over and over again and held himself back from reacting towards the problem, focusing his energy on the recovery. 

But, the most recent event was his last fucking straw.

It had happened seemingly out of nowhere, Wrath had been slumped down on their shitty lumpy couch boredly watching some dumb movie. It was getting later in the night, around 10 maybe 11 and he had one of Remus’s crappy beers partially drank in his hand. He was just getting up to change the movie or turn it off all together when the whole house seemed to shift violently, the walls seeming to tremble. There was a moment of confusion before he heard it.

“ Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

His whole body jolted to its feet unsteadily as the sound of Anxiety’s pain wreaked scream filled the house to an almost deafening volume as it distorted and deepened. His body moved before his mind, lurching over the couch and running for the source of the scream as another one wailed out even louder than the first, the sound muffling the breaking bottle and violently shaking the walls with their reverb. He heard other sounds too underneath, glass shattering heavy objects banging and wood splintering, wallpaper shredding. A third screech rang out, cutting itself in half with echoing high pitched sobs. 

He hadnt been the first to make it to his room.

Wrath watched as he turned the corner in time to see Remus destroy Anxiety’s door with his morning star, a wild and desperately freaked out look to his glowing eyes as wood splintered and gave out under the weapon, some sending cuts into his cheeks. The creative side was then out of sight in a flash, forcing his way into the room yelling as to be heard over the screams.

Remembering the pain, the fear the absolute panic in Remus’s normally confident voice sent a deeper chill down his spine than the screams had.

“ Virgy??!! Fuck fuck fuck fUCK!! Virgy no no! Its me dammit!! Fuck FUCK FUCK!! No no NO! Virgy virgy virgy storm cloud creepy cryptid no no nnonononono look at me no no look at me cmon honey look at me not those at me. me me me me..” His voice continued, shaky and softening as the screams faded into heart wrenching sobs and high pitched hyperventilating gasps. Remus continued to speak, morning star thudding against carpet and a softer thud sounding.

“ Hey hey hey hey hey hey...hey hey hey I got you I got you I’m here im still here....i’m always here for ya honey...I got you now I got you see? Yeah yeah thats me....just focus on me....cmon cmon stormy cant pass out on me now...follow my breathing lets breathe together...in...out...in out...now....tell me five things you can see....cmon honey you got this just look up im here right here...” 

The sight through the broken door haunted him, made his chest throb hard and bile burn his throat. 

The bedroom before him was completely trashed. It was as if something feral and destructive had ripped it from its very foundation. Every piece of furniture, big or small, was broken and smashed apart, the anxious side’s bed and couch ripped into multiple pieces. Every shelf  or flat surface had faced an even worse fate, thrown around and shattered into various pieces that had been strewn around the room along with glass fragments from anything unfortunate enough to have been made of glass. Papers and books were severed and torn apart viciously, and the wallpaper was slashed in huge wide cute, some of the slashes cutting deep into the wall underneath. And in the middle of the disaster was Remus and Anxiety. Long, protruding limb like dark shapes sprouted from the purple side’s back, twitching and trembling with adrenaline along with his heaving, hunched over shaking form. Remus was there in front of him, knelt down to the balled up figure and slowly but surely coaxing him up enough to pull him into his arms and rock him back and forth as he kept speaking to him. It took Wrath a few seconds of his vision adjusting to the room’s darkness to realize Remus had more cuts on him, and why.

Strings.

Millions of purple tinted, tautly pulled strings, like a tightly woven and intricate sickening spider web filled the room from top to bottom as if trying to shield the two in its depths. He could see parts of them hanging limp, likely from Remus forcing his way through to the other. He watched in a horrified shock as Anxiety’s body lurched and jerked with his piercing sobs, hand harshly digging into his scalp through his hood and shadowy claws threatening to rip said hood open. He could see many of the strings connected directly to various parts of his body and to the eight extra things on his back and it made him shudder. The room radiated a sort of fear and panic that was infectious, suffocating even. But he refused to leave the doorway and abandon the two there, in that too dense darkness. 

He watched Remus manage to gather up the shorter side into his chest and rock him more, practically curling into a ball over him. He was still talking, his voice softening to the point he couldnt make it out anymore from the door. But he could see his expression. God his expression mightve been what pushed him past his bullshit accepting limit.

Remus’s face was grim, any traces of his grins and normal attitude gone. His eyes were glowing in a dark, dangerously violent fury but the way they stayed trained on Anxiety kept them, for the time being at least, soft and remorseful. There was so much pain there in that focused gaze, pain regret sorrow a disturbing amount of fear and understanding. His mouth moved with words not meant for Wrath to hear, soft gentle coos and reassurances too intimate to be heard by anyone else but the one trembling harshly in his strong arms. Brows furrowed and it made Wrath feel even colder to realize his hands, hands that were holding the other up and petting his hair through that black hood and rubbing between the spidery appendages, were trembling. 

Remus was trembling.

After awhile the strings seem to fade away into nothing, those shadowy limbs following them scarily slow. Once that happened and the worst of the darkeness seemed to dissipate was when Wrath dared to take a few stiff steps into the room, debris crunching too loudly under his boots. He saw Remus stiffen and his eyes flicker up like a cornered, ready to attack animal before relaxing, glow never leaving.

“ W...wh..r...R-remus...” 

“ Des...Dessy brat...h-hey spitfire do me a solid and go open my door ok? Dont worry itll lead to my bedroom...just...go open it for me...will you...?” Wrath’s voice failed him after that and he nodded, backing out of that suffocation and away into the brighter lit hall rushing from the room to push open the dark stained door further down. He turned around to go back, to try to help somehow...anyway he could, when he watched Remus instead picking his way out of the mess and into the hall, their leader cradled in his arms limply like a small sleeping child. Not a sound came from either of them as he stalked through the hall and into his room, a single nod dismissing Wrath before the door swung shut in front of him...

That was where he was drawing a line. Enough had been enough.

Wrath had sat back through many things, too many fucking things than he should have. He held back his doubts when Virgil and Roman had first started seeing each other when they were younger and dumber, had held himself and barely held Remus back from mauling the so called “good” creativity when things had gone awry and he had broken Virgil’s heart and left him in bitter, resentful pieces for them to pick up and help mend back together. He held back every time Thomas had, intentionally or unintentionally, slighted and undermined their jobs as a part of him, of their importance, of Virgil’s and Remus’s importance to him. He had sat back through the aftermath of ever fight with the “light” sides and with thomas, through every dismissal and banishment and arguement and accusation. He had helped and been there through countless sleepless nights and previous breakdowns and panic attacks between all four three of them, and he had been here, had been forced not to retaliate as per Virgil’s simple request.

“ Dont Des....dont go after them...Im forbidding it got it? Dont do it. it isnt going to be worth it...please...” 

It had always been the please, soft and defeated that made him obey. Not the angry snaps and lashing out, not the cruel words and push and shove they all did for so long, but the plea in that word...the vulnerability it revealed. 

He had sat through Deceit’s slow distancing from the rest of them...and his eventually leaving them for the light sides and the ensuing pain and breakdown that his leaving left behind.

It had splintered them, had struck both Virgil and Remus harder and more painfully than either side would verbally admit. Wrath had been forced to do nothing but helplessly watch it break them and break himself too, and try to clean up the aftermath best he could.

But this breakdown, seeing the side that had always stubbornly refused to buckle or back down reduced to a screaming sobbing wreck on the floor, seeing the other side he had always seen be nothing but strong and indifferent to everything thrown with a grin shaking in fear and softly pleading was too much.

He had stayed down, seething, resentment festering for years. too many years without an outlet.

He remembered the hand that had been held out to him all those years ago. Remembered coming along a little bit before Deceit ever did...and looking up from where he was angrily crying on the floor to see two figures before him. One was shorter, with two sets of brightly glowing purple and green eyes and a big black hoodie that was too big for him and messy hair that fell into his face. Behind him was someone much taller, with wild hair and a single streak of white in it, eyes feral and gleeful i a way that made him tense and made him mad through his tears. He was dressed extravagantly, like a prince or even a king grinning unnaturally wide. But his focus narrowed on the purple one, whose dark claw tipped hand stretched out in front of him in an offering. When Anger had put his head back in his knees to cry more he felt an arm drape over him. His head snapped up and he saw the princely one next to him with a softer expression, hand rubbing his back a little.

“ Hey....hey its ok Anger. Whatcha crying for? You did your job! Pretty damn well too! You were amazing the way you had Thomas screaming at that bully!” A clawed hand smacked him making him yelp and he looked in front of him to see Fear knelt in front of him with a look of understanding, a bitter smile on his face.

“ He’s right you know? You were only doing your job...you didnt realize how out of hand things would spiral and thats ok. How they reacted isnt your fault...” 

They offered him a place to go, a place to thrive. Screw the others that refused to understand and stay with them. And Fear led them both deeper down the halls by the hand, making sure he didnt get lost

He was done standing down.

Someone needed to pay. 

~ ~ ~

If he was honest, Wrath wasnt sure how long he sat outside the intrusive side’s shut door, sitting slumped against the opposing wall in a thick, deafening silence. It mustve been long enough for him to drift into an uneasy, restless sleep. His dreams filled up with memories of younger years, of pranks and scuffles and violent roughhousing the three of them got up to being on their own, of Remus making meals and running around frantic to keep both Anger and Fear from accidentally killing themselves or each other on something. Of Deceit hazily joining their trio, hesitant and quiet but able to snap back just as viciously and able to rough house back just as good as the rest of them after awhile. Of days filled with shrieks, squeals, bickering and shrilly laughter, of restless nights where they all broke into Remus’s room and dog piled on his bed to sleep. Of slowly growing up and watching Virgil come out of his quiet observance and transition from Fear to Anxiety and taking charge as a leader among them, of Remus stepping back and letting him with full confidence as his right hand and partner in crime in most cases. Of seeing Deceit come out of his terrified shell and blossom into a belovedly bitchy and...supposedly self assured side...of Virgil’s echoing screams that seem to reverberate through his very core...

He jolted awake at the sound of a door creaking, and sluggishly lifted his head to see a pair of familiar scuffled riding boots, laces fraying if you looked close enough. He lifted his gaze higher and soon locked onto tired green eyes that were dark and dull from exhaustion. Lifeless was a term he could describe those eyes with and that fact made him briefly queasy and cold. He looked tired, so very tired, and older. He was older than them both....but right now he looked much older than he was...There was a silence between them for a few moments that allowed Wrath to rouse himself up a little more.

“ Dessy....for all thats unholy...what’re you still doin out here dumbass? Did you stay there all night?” 

‘Dessy’...‘ Des’ the nickname eased some of his shot nerves. Ever since they were kids they had joked that his name shouldve been “ Despair” instead of “ Daniel Williams” because of his very present pessimism and negative outlook. And soon it became so much more fitting that his nickname became “ Des” short for despair...or in Remus’s case “ Dessy” as he oh so enjoyed calling him. The annoying nickname was familiar though, and it helped him relax enough to speak. His voice was rough and awkwardly quiet in the small hallway, as if he’d been the one screaming. 

“ I....wanted to make sure he’d be ok...” He trailed off, voice faltering with a clear shake. It sounded pathetic and weak to him. 

But maybe, just this once pathetic and weak wasnt a bad thing. Because at the sound of his voice, and his dumb reason, Wrath saw some life flicker back into the older side’s eyes, some of their glow returning. Remus let out a tired, exasperated sigh and gave him a small sad smile, his expression softened into something sorrowful yet fond. That fondness, that softness sent warm tingling butterflies fluttering through his chest like it always did despite the grim circumstances. Remus let out a strained chuckle and shook his head, pulling his door shut with a quiet click.

“ He’s asleep now ya little Tasmanian devil...let him rest and we’ll check on him in a bit...now cmon, lets go make some breakfast and watch some movies or something....lets go up up.” With a grunt Des allowed himself to be heaved up by the armpits to his feet and didnt protest Remus wrapping an arm around him and guiding him down to the living room. He didnt want to see that pained exhaustion on his face...he needed to do something

and had a problem he was finally going to get rid of. 

“ No Des you cant.” 

There was that feeling as familiar to him as breathing bubbling in his chest, that hot smoldering feeling of anger or irritation igniting. It flushed out the cold he had been feeling in an unpleasant way but he ignored that part, pressing his palms flat on the table with a bit of force as he narrowed his orange eyes at the one across from him. He felt something like acid stinging his mouth and begging to be spilled free but he did as he usually did and grit his teeth to hold the worst of it at bay. Pushing it down. Holding back again.

“ Not again Remus. I refuse to just fucking sit back and do nothing again. They need to be taught a lesson! This is all their fault- all his fault--”

“ Even if it is so fucking what?! You blindly lashing out at them is only going to make things worse I can promise you that--”

“ Like hell it will!! They act like they can just walk all over us and treat us like fucking trash and cause things like last night and you think im lashing out blindly when--”

“ --When youre temper is as violent as a fucking feral mongoose--” “ Dont call me a fucking mongoose beetlejuice reject!!” “ Oh shut up and sit back down you twerp!!” 

They went back and forth across the table, both their tempers and volumes raising as they fought. That bubbling feeling was twisting into a boiling, growing burning that began filling his chest and core. Why was Remus not agreeing with him for fucks sake--

His vision started tinging red.

“ Look brat you think I fucking like this?! You think im not pissed the fuck off?! Because I am! I’m beyond pissed off about this!! About the fact I know exact who and what caused Virgy’s breakdown and about the fact it happened at all!! I fucking get it!! But even I know you shouldnt just storm in there to take off trying to take off their fucking heads when youre too upset! Youre not thinking clearly enough for that kind of confrontation dammit im trying to protect you in this too!!” Remus’s words were loud, ruthless, and hard hitting. There were angry and forceful and made sense.

Plenty of sense. 

And somehow that made him even angrier.

“ Oh? Ooooh! I get it, I fucking get it! Now that youve been sweetening up fucking logic youre suddenly the first to fucking defend them hurting our fucking best friend--”

“--oh for fucks sake bitch Logan has nothing to fucking do with this!! Im not fucking defending them either!! I swear to god im just trying to--” “ --to what huh?! Keep on his good side so you can get in his fucking pants?! Or so you can fucking push it aside and laugh about it later like one of them?!--” “ Goddammit you fucking stubborn brat you dont know what youre even talking about--” “ I dont know what im talking about?! I DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT?!?!” His voice rose much louder, his own trembling distortion coming out and getting spat at the side who had helped fucking raise him like venom.

“ I dont know what im talking about?!!  You mean like how I NEVER seem to know what the fuck im talking about?! Like how Virgil  never knows what hes talking about or how you never seem to know what youre fucking talking about when your talking to them?! God now youre even starting to sound like those pretentious bastards!! Dont know what im talking about?! What part do I not know what im talking about Intrusive Thoughts?! huh??!!” His breath was coming out in ragged, squeaking pants as his eyes began to burn “Which fucking part do I not fucking know?! The part where ive had to sit back and bottle up my rage at being pushed aside and degraded and judged and dismissed or having to sit back for fucking years and watch you and virgil get hurt and hurt and ignored and dismissed and talked down and insulted and broken and having to swallow my protests of it?! Or of knowing last night fucking happened because Deceit decided to fully live up to his fucking name and abandoned us for those bastards and left us alone without a second thought and got away with it?! Or the fucking fact youre too busy trying to bone down logic to even fucking care--!!” 

Smack!

It came so fast he hadnt had time to prepare for it before his head was snapped to the side and pain exploding in his face, on the cheek near the jaw in particular as he staggered to the ground a good foot and his eyes eerily slow dragged themselves from looking at the kitchen cabinets to Remus, who still had his fist outstretched near where it had collided with his face, his chest heaving almost like his own was, eyes wild and just as angry before a flash of realization went through them.

“ ....Des....fuck...i...you...” Nothing too coherent came babbling out Remus’s mouth, he was still way too hoped up on anger fueled adrenaline. His fist was starting to tremble and Wrath watched his pupils dilate a few times in his attempt to calm down.

And then there was something like an explosion as that burning feeling warped into a raging fire and Wrath let out a infuriated, inhuman shriek and lunged for Remus with a full intent to rip out his stupid fucking throat as his rage consumed him.

The two fighting sides went crashing into the living room loudly nearly knocking over the couch in their wake, both of them screaming and Wrath inhumanly screeching in an almost reptilian manner as he clawed and punched wherever he could reach. Remus wasnt just lying down and taking it either, yelling in loud angry spats of soon unraveling nonsense as he fought back mercilessly, throwing the other into walls, into furniture, throwing punches and kicks of his own. But nothing seemed to slow the orange side down and he struck back with slowly growing claws and fangs and something sharp growing out of his hair, angry tears burning his eyes and his voice too warbled and distorted to even be understood anymore, both their forms twitching and subtly shifting and glowing as they tried to rip each other to shreds, things fluid dripping and twisting lashing out from Remus’s back. Remus was stronger, he always had been, but Wrath had a seemingly endless stream of fury and adrenaline that kept him getting back up and charging in for more, the room being wrecked between them. Maybe things would have gone too far if it hadnt been brought to a hard, screeching halt.

By the time they could both blink they were ripped away from each other, both now uselessly struggling as they were entangled in roughly restraining strings that glowed a eye straining, furious purple color and seemed to tighten and wrap around them more the more they fought and struggled for freedom. Their indecipherable words and incoherent screams where just as ruthlessly cut short as strings wrapped warningly around their throats, not tight enough to actually choke or hurt them, but firm enough to be very present and felt, their voices being quite literally silenced the moment it touched looped once and touched the spot over their vocal cords. There was a horrifically tense silence as their mouths moved in spat insults and screams that never made a sound.

“......that....that is enough out of both of you.”  

Virgil’s voice cut through the room like a cleaver, the tone dead, cold, and just as pissed off as they were. At first they couldnt see him, manic eyes darting around until Wrath saw the Duke’s eyes trained on top of the stairs near the hallway, pupils down to small pinpricks. When he glared over in that direction he fully understood and felt all that anger draining and quickly turning into a queasy, cold dread that made him want to cower.

That radiation of fury, or bone chilling fear and a kind of suffocating anxiety that made it hard to breathe and a panic that made them both feel like they were perpetually falling and simultaneously drowning swept over the living room like a flood, the corners and ceilings slowly developing intricate pulsing webs or strings that seem to absorb the rooms light as Virgil stepped, no, half crawled down the stairs and into view. Both sets of eyes were visibly, the whites dyed a void like inky black where his brightly burning purple and green irises cut into them coldly. Something sharp and gleaming poked from his scowl and revealed themselves as fangs as his snarl curled his lips. His hood was up hiding most of his pale skin but couldnt hide the flecks and scatterings of void like, inky and purple spots dusting parts of his slowly purple tinging skin. His hands, snapping out from his sleeves to grip the stair railing were fully blotched in that void, fingers curling into razor sharp claws that strings hung stickily too. The eight dark appendages, opaque and gangly half carried him down faster than usual, the ends digging into the carpet as if for stability. A shrill hiss whistled through Anxiety’s teeth and the panic inducing feeling of being stared at at being excruciatingly examined came from every corner, growing worse and worse as he stalked closer with silent movements. 

“ What....the actual fuck are you two doing.” The words with sharp edged and cold, tone flat and tired. They both just stared helplessly, unable to move or speak and both beginning to mindlessly panic. Virgil blinked and a gust of air like an exhale swepted through the room and....left no traces of those fearful horrified feelings in its wake. Both of their feet thudded mutedly against the carpeted floor as the strings released them and retreated back into nothing, disappearing from all around them as if they had never been there to begin with...the room never dimmer than it had started in the morning light and the three of them stood there in silence. Any hints of inhumanity were gone from Anxiety’s form, leaving his two still glowing eyes losing their luster and leaving dull annoyance behind, no fangs, no extra limbs, no claws, no void dotting his skin. When he spoke he took a slow breath, as if unable to breathe just like them.

“....I...I mean it you two...what. the actual fuck did you two wake me up with.” Even his voice had returned to normal, if not for a bit shaky and hoarse from last nights screaming. Wrath saw his eyes were bloodshot, and his face was tinged with blotchy pink and was puffy from crying and something clenched in his chest, thudding hard. He looked at Remus, who was panting from lack of breath, eyes dull and exhausted and pain filled again, injuries from their fight blaring from the blood decorating his body and clothes.

He had done that....he’d lost control again...

“ Im dont want to repeat myself a third fucking time. What the fuck did you--” 

“ I...This is my fault I started it...” Both of them looked at him, gazes drilling into him. But he let his head drop as shame took over, choking him a little. This was his family and they were already hurting and look what he’d done-

“Oh piss off Dessperato. It aint only your fault I fucked up too. Look virgy we were both tired and coming off that dumb worry adrenaline shit and we started arguing...and we got waaaaaay too heated and decided to beat the living shit out of each other...sorry we woke you you were suppose to sleep later.” Virgil let out a sigh and rubbed his temples, pulling off his hood and shaking out his messy bedhead. 

“ Is that all that happened? Im not deaf and the doors arent sound blockers...” “ Then why are you asking.” Virgil and Remus as a bit of a stare off before finally, for the first time that morning all the life slowly returned to his eyes and he gave a toothy, blood streaked grin and started to laugh. The other two looked at him like he had fully lost it. Then Virgil’s lips twitched up and Des rolled his eyes and failed to stop the grin spreading across his face or the chuckles that he managed to choke out. Within a few minutes all three of them were laughing on the messy living room floor  half sprawled over each other and Jealously bemusedly deciding they werent capable of making breakfast and making it for them all instead. Des watched half delerious from his exhaustion as Remus cackled and kicked his leg, just to laugh more when he kicked back.

“ I swear to god no more violence out of you two or I swear I’ll...” Remus let out a snort and gripped the other’s chin between his fingers sensually tugging their faces closer with a smug grin

“ You’ll what Hot Topic? Lock me in the closet again? Or send me reeling with nightmares and hallucinations~ Oh please virgy baby I dare you too~” His tone was light and suggestive, quirking his eyebrows up teasingly for added effect. Virgil snorted and and grinned back leaning close as well.

“ Oh dont start teeempting me with those sweet talkins about hallucinations dr. Hideous~ I might just take you up on that...” Then he flicked his nose and shove him away, both of them laughing. Des was about to try to give them the time to themselves when Remus yanked him between them waggling his finger disapprovingly, making him whack the other’s shoulder with a affectionate “ fuck RIGHT off” and for awhile, in that growing morning light, things felt ok. 

It had taken alot of talking, and another arguement almost breaking out between himself and virgil to convince him to back down from confronting the light sides violently. Virgil brought a surprising amount of identical points to remus, while also reminding him that reacting to violently will only make them ignore and dismiss him further. Des was very reluctant, and stubborn, but ultimately he trusted Virgil’s and Remus’s judgement. He trusted Virgil’s reasoning and that he was looking out for him- protecting him. So when he asked him, softly, to refrain from trying to handle it on my own and let him deal with it Des had agreed, obeying his request.

And then a real tipping point pushed him back over the edge.

It was a few weeks later. He remembered distinctly because the mindscape was abuzz with excitement, even the dark sides were effected by Thomas’s unbridled joy. But Virgil had said he was getting a bad feeling...and headed off to the main part of the mindscape that morning. Things were quiet after, calm even. At some point him and Remus had started playing cards, though Remus was blatantly cheating and they were bickering.

Things were fine...things were calm...

Then Virgil crashing into the living room breathing harshly and in the midst of a bad panic attack. 

They both jumped up and Remus caught the other in his arms, trying to calm him down and figure out what happened. It took a long time and for awhile they only got bits and pieces out

Thomas

A callback, a big important one he and Roman were thrilled for

Patton, something with both Patton and Deceit

Neither of them agreeing but both of them fighting Virgil

some kind of important friend event on the same day

they had argued, they had fought, there had been yelling by the climax of it

Him and Roman went at each others throat despite the fact he had been trying to help roman’s cause

Deceit fought him alot too, trying to cut him off at every chance in a form of fear response, out of defense

Him and patton argued and fought badly for the first time since Thomas’s last breakup

He thought logan would try to see his side and be a neutral party

Logan was getting tug of warred into agreeing to arguments to push him out

They kept trying to shut him down and dismiss him, they stopped listening fairly

Virgil had to pull out a form shift in front of thomas

He had to use his influences and fear to get them to stop talking over him and twisting his words

it only made things worse, and arguments harsher

They rejected him and his attempts to help more

He started having a panic attack mid argument

He thought logan and patton tried to help but they were getting drowned out by Roman and Dee

There was so much yelling, things that should never be said got thrown

They told Virgil he never does anything but make Thomas worse

Thomas finally nearly screamed for them all to stop and half asked half pleaded for Virgil to just leave until everyone calmed down

He lashed out and hit someone, he wasnt even sure who before he fled, not hearing them yell after him. It mightve been patton, or thomas, or maybe logan

And then his panic attack got worse and neither of them could get another understandable word from him. 

In the end Remus eventually got him called down, after a good couple hours of trying, and it took everything in Wrath not to scream and destroy the room.

All Virgil did was try to help, and look what their....their bullshit left him. He was beyond seething at this point, he was fuming he was downright practically breathing fire and shaking from the effort to keep himself still. Remus gave him a cautious warning look, as if he was sizing up one of his many monsters in the imagination and debating if it would kill him or not and Virgil lifted his head to choke out for him to stand down, and to not do anything. Wrath had nodded silently and waited, watching Remus help him upstairs to his room to grab his headphones, and hopefully calm down more. Once they were out of sight he made a decision. He knew the consequences of it, knew theyd both be furious and Virgil would make hell for him for it. But none of that mattered to him

For the first time in many many years...he disobeyed Anxiety’s direct request.

It took a few days to find an opening, but once he saw one he took it, rising up in the big main living room, unknowingly in the middle of a video brainstorm.

Wrath always seemed to appear near the couch, between Roman and Thomas. Just seeing them made his blood boil more than it had been.

It was easy to say he scared the shit out of most of them by just appearing, his entire presence sucking the air from the room and making it hot and tense, a cracked dam waiting to break. Itd been months since he’d seen them face to face, and for a moment his senses got overwhelmed by everything.

But he let that fuel his anger further and he growled for them to fess up. Which one had said it. Roman had of course jumped to the defensive of his friends and that was all Wrath needed.

He lost it, pointing and yelling and accusing Roman. Blaming him for it. Roman didnt back down and fought back, and the fight only seemed to worsen. The others tried to interject, and maybe if Wrath’s vision hadnt been blood red from his fury he wouldve seen they were trying to diffuse the situation and calm things down, talk things out. But he ignored that, whipping around and lashing out at them too

“ Wrath you need to step back and take a deep breath! Youre getting irrational!”

“ Wrath kiddo please we dont have to yell and scream about this Logan’s right lets all take a deep breath ok?”

“ Like hell! Im not going to just let him force his way in here and yell and scream and pretend its ok and we can talk!”

“ Roman please!” “ro stop getting angry back is just making all of it worse the others are right we need to be calm or we’ll never get through to him.”

That voice. Silken and soaked with caution. He whirled around on Deceit and snarled pinning him to the wall without thinking.

“ This is all your fucking fault! Youre the reason they keeping hurting and virgil has breakdowns that put him out of commission for days!! Youre part of the reason Remus locks himself away beating himself up. they trusted you!! We all trusted you and you decided to fuck us over and throw us out like trash!! Was it worth it?!?! Was being here worth breaking the people you grew up with you and loved you?! Well?!” There was yelling around them, and he thought briefly he heard Remus’s and Virgil’s voices behind him as well. But now all that anger, that pushed down bitterness and resentment finally had a target and he couldnt focus on anything else. He didnt even heard Deceits struggling answer as he tried to claw him off, his different eyes wide and his mouth moving in words that werent registering.

“ -youre right ok?! Fuck youre not right at all--fuck fuck I get it youre angry and I fucked up with this, this isnt my fault and I havent been trying to figure out ways to fix it! I totally havent been beating myself up for what happened a few days ago with virgil and I dont regret it ok--” THe words blended together in his head, there were hands on his shoulders ripping him away the the freaked out snake and shoving him into the couch. He snarled but froze when he realized He was staring at the very formal business end of Remus’s morning star, inched from his nose and Remus standing over him with a dark look over his face...dark and upset The red faded from his vision and he blinked rapidly, eyes burning again and jaw aching from how hard he’d been clenching it or from yelling he honestly couldnt even tell anymore. From behind Remus stood both Logan and Virgil, side by side speaking in rapid low voices he couldnt decipher. Behind them he caught of glimpse of Roman and Patton both kneeling on the floor, fretting over a still freaked out Deceit as Jealously offered to help him up. Wrath was struggling to breathe, his body twitching and shaky from the quickly fading adrenaline. Soon he was left feeling cold and sick of himself, staring at Remus with just as wide and wild eyes. 

“ Easy....easy spitfire....youre...just breathe for me ok?” He couldnt even nod, he couldnt move. He vageuely noticed Virgil and Logan both looking at him before the morning star was gone and Logan was in front of him, hands palm up in a non-threatening manner. 

“ Wrath can you hear me? Good...just listen to my voice...I need you to name me five things you can see.” He blinked rapidly and barely heard Remus’s and Virgil’s murmurs of reassurance. Or maybe Virgil’s was more quiet talking, as he was standing at Patton’ side  like the normally bubbly side’s shadow. 

“u...uuh....y..youre tie...r-remus’s outfit....the stairs...the others...and the Roman’s s-sword...” Logan gave a nod, slowly kneeling in front of him with a calm, leveled expression that helped him focus more.

“ Good, now four things you can touch. Take your time Wrath.” He flexed his fingers, more of a twitch really as his breathing began to even out slowly. “ Um...My jacket...the couch...my jeans...uh...t..the carpet?” He nodded again through his faltered stammering as the deepness faded.

“ Three things you can hear?” He blinked again and listened for a moment.

“ .....your voice...Remus’s voice...the others...” “ Two things you can smell, remember take your time.” “ Bacon...from breakfast...and someones cologne..” A small smile came to his face as he adjusted his glasses in slow noticeable motions.

“ Just just 1 thing you can taste.” He managed to smack his lips once and his face screwed up at the taste lingering in his mouth.

“ ....acidic bile...” Both their brows furrowed a little but when Logan looked over his shoulder Remus shrugged at the silent question.

“Probably needs to puke Dr. Maywhoo.” Logan sighed at the nickname and turned back to him, holding up his hands a little.

“ Now, Wrath Id life for you to unclench your jaw, roll and relax your shoulders, loosen your posture if you can, uncurl your fingers and exhale please.” He blinked and slowly did as instructed, not realizing until then that he was wound up like a jack in the box. His jaw ached as he unclenched it and his shoulders slumped heavily as he relaxed, fingers sore from apparently being curled into firsts for so long, small red lines in his palms from his nails. He felt calmer, drained and upset, but calm. 

“ Logan, Remus.” He looked past them to see virgil standing up tall, if not awkwardly, besides Roman and watching them with a hard to read look.

“ I...think sitting down and calmly talking...is now long overdue.” 

~~~~~

Hours later Wrath Des found himself on the mindscapes main couch tiredly nestled besides a dozed off Jealousy Jacob and a cheerfully talking Patton. They had spent hours haphazardly strewn around the very room, just...talking and discussing and airing years worth of grievences. It wasnt easy, and things were no where near fixed or completely repaired. But, there were many small positive steps taken in that direction...and things were lighter and better as they stood at a better understanding of each other. Things werent perfect, and in the back of his mind he could list everything that could fuck up and send them back spiraling. Yet he didnt want to ruin what...whatever it was happening as dinner was cooked. Logan, Remus, and Virgil all sat together on the other side of the couch chatting among themselves and with Patton as they tried to decide on a movie and played candyland. In the kitchen he could hear Roman and Deceit cooking and giggling with each other, trying to outdo each other with some dumb food based pick up lines. But they sounded happy, so many it wasnt that dumb...Des watched them play candyland, staying relatively quiet aside from answering questions and jabs sent his way. It was comfortable and relaxed, and Des couldnt help but yawn. Without noticing , he ended up resting his head on Patton’s clearly unoccupied and underutilized shoulder as his eyes drooped shut. He felt Patton jump a little before slowly relaxing, and he didnt even need to open his eyes to flip Remus off as he let out an overly exaggerated coo at the motion letting himself relax. Patton smelled good he decided. Like fabric softener and baked goods and some kind of spice...Des also decided that the blurry sight of the trio next to them, with Remus’s legs draped across Logan and Virgil’s laps and one hand playing with Virgils messy hair as he sat on Logan’s right and Virgil contently and fully relaxed into Logan’s left side, head resting in the crook of his neck and his hand laced with the logical side’s unused hand as they played was also good. The sound of Jacobs soft snores was soothing and the joyful flirty voices in the kitchen blended into it well when combined with Pattons soft humming. If this was how things would be more often....he’d learn to add a little more patience to his supply of the stuff....

And maybe for once he didnt have to be negative, with no more tension for now to be broken.

The end.

 Ok holy shit its finally finished!! This was over 7k goddamn words of emotion and holy shit was it a rollercoaster to write

THis is what happened when I wake up before 5 in the morning after not being able to sleep much...I apparently bust out 15 whole pages worth of words

Now....to go do my chores real quick and go pass the fuck out for an hour or two of sleep

I hope you guys liked it!!!

taglist

@phantommoonpeople @sweetsweetemo @leesacrakon @amazable01 @strawberryjellystuff @heyhelloitsk @jemthebookworm @max-is-tired @seriously-a-dragon @sar-kasstic @soupspam @riarities @yalltookmyurlideas @unsocialchapeau @hyperions-stallion @aqua-mazing @pancakewithamace @dee-ree-vee @sensibleghost @ro-roowo @baby-duck-boy @wack-ismygender

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 7

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader, Alastor x Lucifer x Reader

Summary: Somehow thrown into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Manipulation 

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Holy shit. Oh, fuck. There he was. The creature you had heard about your entire life. The epitome of all things evil and corrupt… the embodiment of sin… and he was standing directly in front of you, meeting your horrified expression with an amused one of his own.

Finding words was impossible as your mouth hung open in shock, unsure of what to say or how to address your current situation. Granted, this Lucifer was an animation, and an extremely whimsical one at that, but considering what you had heard, you were certain that he was capable of terrible and downright unspeakable things.

“Cat got your tongue?” Lucifer teased, quirking an eyebrow.

At that moment, it just so happened that a grumpy cat-demon was passing by. From the hallway, you could hear Husk grumble, “Fuck off,” clearly offended by the remark and probably on his way to the bar. He seemed to be surprisingly unfazed by Lucifer’s presence. Either that, or he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was even there.

Luckily, Charlie broke the tense silence that filled the room. “W-where’s Mom?

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Lucifer turned to address his very clearly emotionally overwhelmed daughter. “She’s on another one of her holidays. She took the gardener and fled to the Lust Ring for some time away. I think that it will do her some good.”

Upon noticing Charlie’s look of discomfort and your perplexed expression, Lucifer chuckled darkly. “Lilith and I have what you would call an open relationship. I adore the woman, but alas, she and I tend to grow tired of each other’s company after several millennia. You could not have come at a better time, little human!”

Changing the subject, Charlie interjected, “So… that’s why you’re here? I haven’t heard from you or Mom in weeks, but somehow you can find the time to cross the Seven Rings to see someone you don’t even know?”

“Oh, Charlotte. Desperation is not a good look on you,” Lucifer sneered, brushing off Charlie’s jab. “You’re a Magne for Satan’s sake. Wipe that dejected look off of your face and stop embarrassing yourself.”

Fighting back tears, Charlie’s bottom lip quivered, but she managed to keep herself in check. “Yes, Dad…”

Anger was bubbling up inside of you and threatening to spill over. You had exchanged a look with Alastor, who very subtly shook his head, indicating that now was not the time to lose your cool.

“Now,” Lucifer declared, clapping his hands together excitedly. “Let’s get moving, shall we? Oh, this is absolutely thrilling! I have so many things to inquire about.” 

Finally finding your words, you spoke barely above a whisper, “I don’t want to leave.”

Wagging his finger disapprovingly at you, Lucifer chastised, “I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter. You’re deliciously powerless and at the mercy of Hell’s ruler… who just happens to be me!” He cackled at his own joke, which wasn’t even funny.

“But, Dad,” Charlie couldn’t stop herself from butting in. “She’s doing well here. We’re keeping her safe and she’s just getting settled. We’re making progress, and I really don’t think that it’s a good idea--”

“Enough!” Lucifer snarled, shaking the whole room with the intensity of his anger. He bared his teeth at Charlie, his eyes now a fiery red and yellow as he glared at her. “Do not defy me, child. Your sympathy for other creatures is pathetic and will be the end of you. I will not tolerate it!”

To Charlie’s credit, she refused to cower before him and instead puffed out her chest, challenging him as her own eyes flashed red and yellow back at him.

“If I may,” Alastor’s calm and collected voice cut through the tension in the room. “The princess makes a valid argument.”

As everyone turned to look at the Radio Demon, Lucifer returned to his former self, brushing his hair back to smooth out the blonde strands that had fallen out of place during his fit of rage.

“Ah, Alastor. I see the rumors are true. You’ve decided to embark in the hospitality industry. It’s a far cry from Overlord status, but to each their own, I suppose.”

Alastor remained eerily still, his smile prominently projecting while his eyes narrowed ever so subtly, which Lucifer seemed to pick up on. “Come now, old friend. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and your endeavors. Perhaps you can teach my daughter a thing or two about Hell and the roles each must play.”

“I have no intention of soliciting false pretenses, Luci, my dear. I am merely here to watch the scum of the earth struggle for betterment before they trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure.” A shiver crept down your spine as he finished and he had a sinister gleam in his eyes.

“Ha!” Lucifer exclaimed. “I should have known. You’re far too clever to abed Charlotte in a failed quest of humanity.”

“Come now, Luci,” Alastor began, tutting the King of Hell. “Must you be so cynical? If nothing else, she’s providing entertainment. I would think that you, of all sinners, would enjoy that.”

“Apparently, you know nothing of the things that I enjoy, Stag,” Lucifer quipped using a peculiar nickname.

Alastor hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, I wouldn’t say nothing.”

An awkward silence filled the room as Lucifer cleared his throat before swallowing thickly. Alastor’s cold and calculated stare was unwavering and wicked.

Quickly averting the topic, Lucifer stated, “The fact remains, it’s not safe for a vulnerable human here in the hotel.”

“I beg to differ,” Alastor countered, nonchalantly twirling his cane in his hands. “She’s no safer with you, my king. You have a significant target on your back and were she to stay with you, she would be in constant danger.”

“I could say the same for you,” Lucifer argued, narrowing his eyes while his smile widened. The similarities between Lucifer and Alastor were unsettling. “You’ve certainly made your fair share of enemies.”

“That may be, but I have nothing but free time,” Alastor deflected with a hint of malice. “You have enough on your plate, what with the recent extermination and those dreadful turf wars that are always on the picture show. The last thing you need is to be burdened with something like this.”

Lucifer sneered, pausing to look over the Radio Demon as if he were looking for something to give him ammunition for the conversation. “If I didn’t know any better, my old friend, I would think that you were trying to manipulate me into allowing her to stay.”

Alastor’s smile crept higher into his cheeks, the slits of his eyes thinning ever so slightly. “I think we’re far past the point of manipulation. I won’t beat around the bush. It would be a mistake for you to take her into your custody.”

Lucifer growled, his impatience fracturing the surface of his indifferent disposition. “The mistake would be to underestimate me.”

“Dad, enough!” Charlie interjected, no longer able to stifle her disdain. “Why is it always a fight with you? Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Charlotte,” he warned, not bothering to look at her.

“For the last time, it’s Charlie ,” she opposed, fuming. “I just… we were managing just fine. Why does this even matter to you?”

“Charlie,” he spat, his voice laced with venom. “Just when I think there might be hope for your future, you set yourself up for failure. You are a disappointment and an embarrassment to me, and I grow tired of your insolence.”

Each word spoken was like a dagger in Charlie’s heart. She was trying so hard to be strong, but she was close to breaking down. Unable to hold back any longer, you snapped.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

The words had left your mouth before you could stop them. The whole room fell silent as everyone turned to Lucifer to gauge his reaction.

“Beg your pardon?” he inquired, his expression stoic.

Swallowing thickly, you continued, “Why are you being so unnecessarily cruel? She’s your daughter , and she’s been nothing but kind and helpful since I arrived. Why do you have to openly mock and demean her like that?”

His eyes searched yours as you stood frozen, waiting for him to slaughter you on the spot for talking back to him. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed, clearly entertained by your ignorance. However, just as you thought he was going to let it go, you were thrown up against the wall, his hand at your throat as he lifted you from the ground. Your nails raked at his hands while your feet scuffled, trying to find anything to lift you and alleviate the pressure on your neck.

“Silly pet,” he hissed, his eyes becoming snake-like as he glared at you. “You’re here as my guest, and I am a courteous host, but make no mistake… should you cross me, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Finally, he let go, allowing your body to slump to the ground as you choked and gasped for air.

Brushing off his sleeves and straightening out his jacket, Lucifer sighed before speaking. “She will remain here temporarily until I can make proper arrangements.”

No one spoke as he looked down at you on the ground, grinning wickedly. “Take care, human. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, he saw himself out, not bothering to utter another word, leaving behind a haunting silence in his wake.

You hardly noticed the hand that was being extended to you as you sat on the ground, dazed by the interaction. When you glanced up, you saw that the hand belonged to Alastor, who was offering you a casual smile. “How are you so happy all the time?” you grumbled as you took his hand, allowing him to haul you to your feet.

“A smile does not necessarily convey happiness,” he explained as he looked you over. “Hell is prominently filled with barbaric individuals who favor crass behavior above all else. It’s quite dull. I myself am in favor of a more amiable approach.”

Before you could respond, Charlie approached you, wrapping her arms around you as she pulled you into a tight embrace. “Are you okay?” she asked, still tightly coiled around you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

Retracting herself, she nodded glumly. “I’m used to it. In case you couldn’t tell, my dad and I don’t exactly have the best relationship. And as much as I appreciate what you did, you really need to be careful. He holds grudges, and you don’t want to get on his bad side.”

Nodding your head, you asked, “What happened to Vaggie?”

Sighing, Charlie answered, “She always makes herself scarce when he’s around. It goes without saying that Vaggie is a bit… outspoken, and she doesn’t want to slip up and say something that she’ll regret. She knows that it will only make things worse for us.”

“Ah, got it.”

Alastor thumped his cane against the wooden floor to gain your attention. “Well, my dear. It seems that we are on the clock. I think it would be best to get you back into the mortal world before Lucifer can carry out his plans. Make no mistake, he’s a cheeky fellow, but you do not want to be caught in his web.”

“Hey! What you got against webs?” Angel Dust popped his head in the doorway, scowling at the Radio Demon.

“Nothing at all, Mr. Dust!” Alastor replied cheerily. “It’s a simple comparison.”

“I’m going to go check on Vaggie,” Charlie stated. “After that, we can come up with a plan. There’s got to be something more that we can do than just go through books to try and get you home,” she thought out loud, a determined gleam in her eye.

As she left, Alastor approached you, placing a bony hand on your shoulder, which he meant as a comfort, but instead had the opposite effect, sending a chill down your spine. “Fear not, my dear. I will not let anything happen to you.”

With a wink, he withdrew his hand and glided out of the room, humming a show tune on his way out, leaving you alone with Angel Dust.

“Guess I missed all the fun,” he quipped before he flung back onto the bed, placing his top set of arms around his head. “Heard the Big Guy was in. He’s a charmer, ain’t he?”

“You know him?” you asked, your interest piqued.

He shrugged his shoulders casually. “Not personally. But I hear the gossip. Val can’t stand him.”

“Am I supposed to know who Val is?”

Rolling his eyes, he replied, “He’s the top dog around these parts, sweetheart. Big Vee controls the black market of Hell, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. You wanna know somethin’ outside the norm? He’s your guy.”

Humming thoughtfully for a moment, you asked, “Do you think he’d know anything about returning me to my world?”

“Probably,” he teased, brushing his hair back. “Val knows lots a weird stuff. He might be your guy.”

“Where do I find him?” you pressed, eager for more information.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the spider demon cautioned. “You don’t just show up unannounced. You need an appointment, toots.”

“Okay,” you sighed, losing your patience. “Can you set up an appointment?”

“I could… but what would you do for me in return?”

Narrowing your eyes, you asked, “Seriously?”

He flashed a smile at you, showing off his golden tooth as he wriggled his eyebrows.

“What is it that you want, Angel?”

“How’s about an I.O.U.? I do this for you, and you owe me a favor. Capiche?”

“How do I even know that I can trust you,” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

In mock offense, Angel Dust put a hand over his heart, dropping his jaw. “Well, that’s just rude. I’m trustworthy! I haven’t told a soul about your relationship with Smiles!”

Huffing, you snapped, “There is no relationship! You just keep walking in at the wrong time!”

“Uh huh,” he teased, snickering. “Either way, I’ve kept my mouth shut, even when there was nothing in it for me. If you wanna talk to Val, I can make that happen, but no more of this free shit. You owe me. Got it?”

“Ugh, okay, fine. Just… make it fast, please.”

Jumping up from the bed, the spider blew you a kiss before heading out on his mission, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your gut. If only you knew what you had just done.

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88 @utterly-disappointing @opheliuva @trinswhimsys  @skylarhedges @whogavebrynjolfpermissiontobehot @sailor-earth-1

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 15/05/2021 (Coldplay, J. Cole, Trippie Redd & Playboi Carti)

I’m awful at predicting this chart, I really am, but most of that is probably down to how I only make vague predictions at the end of each episode without even considering most releases that’ll actually chart. Let’s just say I didn’t expect nine new arrivals this week. At the top, however, little has changed as the absolutely huge “Body” by Russ Millions and Tion Wayne with a remix featuring whoever the hell is spending its second week at #1. The rest of the chart, however, gets a bit more interesting. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

The biggest story to effect the chart this week is of course 2021’s BRIT Awards happening this Tuesday, which I’m sure boosted a lot of songs during the mid-week. I also actually covered the awards show on that day if you’re curious, with some of my observations, predictions and opinions. We can very clear see – or hear, for that matter – the impact of the BRIT Awards in this week’s chart, as it did cause a lot of gains and new arrivals that shook up the chart right in the middle of the tracking week. Firstly, we do have some drop-outs from the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, only one of them, “Paradise” by MEDUZA and Dermot Kennedy, being all that important given it was a top five hit but we do have a handful that lasted five or more weeks or peaked in the top 40, like “Medicine” by James Arthur flopping embarrassingly, “Addicted” by Jorja Smith dropping out to prepare for the rebound next week given her album release and “Solid” by Young Stoner Life, Young Thug and Gunna featuring Drake.

Speaking of Drake, he also provides the singular returning entry as “Wants and Needs” featuring Lil Baby is proving to be the actual hit from that three-pack from March, coming back to #65. Scaling down the chart, we also have some notable losses, songs that dropped at least five spots on this week’s chart. Those that fell include “Your Power” by Billie Eilish dropping harshly to #15 off of the debut, as well as “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S at #18, “Confetti” by Little Mix to #21 off of the return (with Saweetie, the artist quite literally solely the reason it’s had this second wind, still bizarrely left without a credit by the UK Singles Chart), “My Head & My Heart” by Ava Max at #27, “Titanium” by Dave at #31, “Wellerman” by Nathan Evans and remixed by 220 KID and Billen Ted (yes, THEY’RE credited) at #36, “Patience” by KSI featuring YUNGBLUD and Polo G at #42, “Heartbreak Anniversary” by Giveon at #44, “We’re Good” by Dua Lipa at #47, “Way Too Long” by Nathan Dawe, Anne-Marie and MoStack at #49, “Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and MNEK at #51, “Beautiful Mistakes” by Maroon 5 and Megan Thee Stallion at #55, “Don’t Play” by Anne-Marie, KSI and Digital Farm Animals at #56, “Calling My Phone” by Lil Tjay and 6LACK at #59, “Commitment Issues” by Central Cee at #67, “You” by Regard, Troye Sivan and Tate McRae at #69, “Get Out My Head” by Shane Codd at #70, “Hold On” by Justin Bieber getting ACR’d at #71, “Streets” by Doja Cat at #73 and finally, “6 for 6” by Central Cee at #75.

Filling up the room for those losses, however, are the gains, always a tad more interesting, as the songs that rose at least five spots on this week’s chart – or make their first appearance in the top 40, 20 or 10 – are usually having the BRITs to thank to some capacity. The climbers include “Summer 91 (Looking Back)” giving Noizu his first top 40 hit at #31 (and I’ll admit, the song is growing on me), Griff also getting her first with “Black Hole” at #35 thanks to her win and performance at the BRITs, “WITHOUT YOU” by The Kid LAROI rebounding to #13 thanks to that once-again uncredited remix with Miley Cyrus and finally, entering the top 10 for the first time is “Anywhere Away from Here” by Rag’n’Bone Man and P!nk at #9, getting the boost from a perfect trifecta of gains: Rag’n’Bone Man released his album on Friday then on Tuesday had the closing performance of this song at the BRIT Awards with additional vocals from the Lewisham and Greenwich NHS choir, who are also now appearing on a new release of the song the day after, prompting a whole lot of sales, of which I assume and hope are going to charity. It’s Rag’n’Bone Man’s third top 10 hit, P!nk’s 21st(!) and interestingly enough, the NHS choir’s second top 10 hit as they had the Christmas #1 back in 2015. With all of that out of the way, I suppose it’s time to get to our varied array of new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#74 – “Dick” – Starboi3 featuring Doja Cat

Produced by Nius and SoFLY

This week is kind of a weird week if that wasn’t immediately obvious as our new arrivals are kind of all over the place, starting with... well, I think I could say less about the song than the title does. Starboi3 is this SoundCloud rapper from New Jersey who made a song with Doja back in 2019 – I assume she was more accessible for features back then –and it didn’t blow up at all, really, giving Starboi3 some additional traction but not until 2020, in which Doja Cat got her #1 hit and TikTok picked up this explicit single as a new sound. Sadly – or thankfully – the song was never released officially onto streaming until very recently, meaning, surely, the hype’s over by now? The answer to that is no, as it’s climbing up charts in both the UK and the Bubbling Under in the US... so there’s got to be something good about this song, right? Well, no. Not at all. Of course, that is subjective, but I do question your sanity if you’re honestly enjoying this unlikeable nobody shout “Dick!” over a basic, no-melody trap instrumental with heavy 808s not too dissimilar to drill, before going into a beyond basic chorus and verse about, well, you can guess, with rhymes sounding either like an awful freestyle or a kid with a rhyming dictionary. “She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight”? Of course, that’s in the post-chorus because if there’s one thing this song needs, it’s a freaking post-chorus. I also don’t think Starboi3 realises that making her scream for her parents is quite the opposite of sexy – or even raunchy and mindless, as it’s actually just creepy and terrifying. Speaking of terrifying, Doja Cat is here and not even she can add a less basic flow with a verse that just ends up going in one ear and out the other, even if I do like the seductive backing vocals that at least try to make this not a slow, joyless slog. However, I do NOT like the Pickle Rick reference. To be fair, this was 2019, but also to be fair, never reference that again, I am begging you. This is a disaster on all fronts and probably one of the worst tracks I’ve had to review in this series. Good start!

#64 – “Freaks” – Surf Curse

Produced by Surf Curse

This new song is actually even older, being released initially as a deep cut from this Nevada duo’s 2013 album. As you’ll probably tell, this is charting off of people streaming after hearing the song on TikTok and, I mean, at least the song’s actually good this time, careening off of a clearly surf-inspired clean riff surrounded by some basic drumming and a good bassline. It’s not great as it does feel increasingly basic as I said, almost like one of those local bands that don’t get much national attention or traction but do play some gigs and get some love at those places, to the point where it’s kind of big if they play shows outside of their region... which makes sense because that is exactly what they are. This is just some band from Reno but here it is charting on the UK Singles Chart and while it’s here, I should say whilst there’s not much here to discuss given how minimal it is, Nick Rattigan’s vocals are fittingly desperate for the theme of social alienation and particularly rejection as it’s pretty obvious he’s aiming venom at himself for a bad break-up, although given the sound and tone of the song, probably his first, with that double meaning of the mantra in the outro, “I won’t wake up this time”, potentially being a crushing line for someone in similar circumstances. That’s not me, exactly, so this doesn’t hit, but I’m glad that Machine Gun Kelly song from last week got replaced with some actually decent alternative rock on the chart. I hope this does well.

#60 – “One Day” – Lovejoy

Produced by Cameron Nesbitt

“One Day” is the biggest track from new English rock band Lovejoy’s debut EP, Are You Alright?, and whilst I was planning on not mentioning the fact that the band is fronted by Minecraft YouTuber Wilbur Soot, that is the only reason it’s charting – and he’s charted with “Your New Boyfriend” a couple months back, a song that I actually kind of liked. It’s also immediately obvious in the writing that this comes from an Internet personality, with some not-so-well-woven detail and increasingly gratuitous self-awareness that eventually cycles back and ends up as seeming like they have none at all... okay, like most indie bands but that’s beside the point. This happens to be Wilbur’s least favourite song on the release – one that I haven’t listened to because even if I’m not too old for mindless pop music, Minecraft YouTuber alt-rock may be where I draw the line – and I can completely understand the distaste for this given that it starts with the line, “Why’d you have to kill my cat?” I also have some qualms with the song sonically as it may be the most derivative rock single I’ve heard on this series, given how obviously it rips from indie rock bands of the 2000s, with an oddly clean mix that doesn’t exactly fit the obvious stream-of-consciousness lyrics and Wilbur’s erratic delivery. Also, there’s a whole lot of trumpet on this song, which I guess is a surprise, but that doesn’t make up for a drummer who can clearly play very well but has to chaotically play over a song with practically no groove. I do like that second chorus in how it builds up to a somewhat anti-climactic guitar solo but as a full song I do not really get the appeal of this that I don’t get out of other post-punk revival bands from decades back who are still pumping out music. This isn’t bad – I swear, don’t dox me – but I just want something more compelling from this. I will always be glad regardless of the quality that we have more rock on the chart, though, even if this’ll be gone by next week.

#57 – “It’s a sin” – Years & Years and Elton John

Produced by Stuart Price and the Pet Shop Boys

One of my favourite performance from the BRIT Awards this year was Olly Alexander of Years & Years sharing the stage with the iconic Elton John to cover Pet Shop Boys’ “It’s a Sin” which had renewed interest from last year as it was the namesake for a hit TV series about HIV/AIDS, for which this fittingly played a role and has kind of been recontextualised as a gay anthem, which makes complete sense if you look at its lyrics about the Church telling Neil Tennant “how to be”. It’s also one of the Pet Shop Boys’ most camp and theatrical songs, so giving it to Years & Years and Elton John to cover for the BRIT Awards make all too much sense. No, they’re not able to live up to the theatricality of the original, especially if Alexander’s vocals are going to be this clearly manipulated at points, but with Elton John’s piano laying a perfect foundation for the rising intensity of the track, we do get a sense of that original melodrama, with the synth-work and house groove coming in before Elton John’s voice, sounding smokier and wiser with age, and in my opinion, more compelling as a vocalist, especially if they’re both going to sell this song with the most convicted of deliveries. I don’t think a cover could ever live up to that original iconic track but if anyone’s going to get close, it’s Elton John. Expect this to rise next week.

#50 – “Never Left” – Lil Tecca

Produced by ThankYouWill, Taz Taylor and Cxdy

I’ll always be annoyed that Lil Tecca blew up as a rapper instead of a producer, as I don’t think this guy has any likeability or charisma about his flow, cadence or delivery, and that’s only after you get over how dry and whiny his voice can get. However, he can make some great and incredibly infectious beats for other rappers, including a song I see becoming a hit soon in SoFaygo’s “Knock Knock”, which I will bet on at least making the Billboard Hot 100 if not the UK Singles Chart. It’s unbelievably catchy. With that said, Tecca is here in the form of some SoundCloud raps over a boring synth pluck and vaguely tropical Internet Money trap beat, sounding and flowing way too much like Gunna for his own benefit, or Gunna’s benefit, if we’re honest, as this shows how easily he can be replaced. I usually don’t write off this type of rap and will absolutely defend it, but this song isn’t even catchy or unique. I mean, I don’t like “Ransom” either but at least it was kind of fun and I still know the lines in the chorus a couple years later. I’ll forget all about this by next week if it doesn’t stick around. At least he shouts out Chief Keef. God, I hope he charts sometime, that’d be funny.

#45 – “All I Know So Far” – P!nk

Produced by Greg Kurstin

So, P!nk is back but not with a studio album, rather an upcoming live album in which the two new, original songs are about or featuring her daughter. This is the second single from said album and is probably coasting off her appearance at the BRITs in terms of a relatively high chart debut. I’ve never been that big a fan of P!nk but she has her classics, none of which are in the past 15 years but that’s beside the point. This single in particular is an acoustic ballad dedicated to her daughter in which P!nk provides a rapid intensity alongside pretty great-sounding acoustic guitars, pounding drums and strings that sells the content about empowering yourself, with some nice lyrical detail about always being yourself, basically, which would come off as cliché and preachy if it weren’t for some oddly specific lyrics in those verses and the chorus that basically just tell her daughter that despite the fact the world will constantly try to crack down on her and everything she does much like life does to anyone but especially women, she should stand up for herself and what she believes in. However, none of that cuts deep when she’s being raised by a millionaire, huh? There’s little Hell to be put through when you’re born with a silver spoon, huh, Willow? Regardless, this isn’t a bad pop song and its content isn’t as misguided as it is just sang by the wrong singer, although I’d find it hard to get a singer with as much rasp and wisdom in the mainstream to sell this as convincingly as P!nk does – vocally, not lyrically. This is a couple steps above that last single, “Cover Me in Sunshine” at least, which was just insidious. Next.

#32 – “Miss the Rage” – Trippie Redd featuring Playboi Carti

Produced by Loesoe

Okay, so all of our last three new arrivals are in the top 40 and we start with... o-okay, well, it’s 2021, anything can and will chart and I should know this by now, but it’s still surprising to see a song by these two guys debut so high, especially since Whole Lotta Red produced absolutely no charting hits in the UK outside of “@ MEH”, which doesn’t really count. This is Trippie’s highest-charting song ever in the UK that isn’t fronted by KSI, so I guess streaming must have been that good – also, the charts are still weak. For what it’s worth, I do like both Trippie and Carti to their respective extents, and I am aware that this is only as big as it was because of the hype from the leak, which also featured Mario Judah, and that in itself was a big song but it took years for Carti’s feature to be cleared by the label, as is infamously true for much of Carti’s work and even his last official collaboration with Trippie that was actually deleted after release. I’m still hoping on an official release for his verse on Yung Lean’s “Yayo”, but whilst we have this instead, I might as well talk about it and... Well, let me explain to you what I see as the appeal of these two rappers. That appeal is, mostly, that they don’t rap even though they both very much can. Trippie yells, moans, growls, screams and spends most of his work singing in his typical raspy, venomous voice, whilst Playboi Cart spits and coughs his way through substance-less ad-libs to the point where any actual wordplay or lyrical detail gets you excited for that brief moment. In this song, Trippie and Carti don’t eschew the typical role of a rapper and both just... rap normally, which would not be a complaint if they weren’t so bland in that role, which is the whole point of their unique, phlegm-filled deliveries in the first place. As a result, this song just ends up feeling empty, even if this awfully-mixed, bass-boosted beat with some lovely distorted video-game synths and hardly audible trap skitters does go incredibly hard. Don’t get me wrong: this is still catchy and Trippie flows very well over a beat that sounds made for him and Carti. Hell, Carti has grown on me so much recently that my fondness for this might just be me eating anything he releases up. With that said, he’s the worst part of the song as his baby-voice style emphasises how lacking this song is in just anything. I do like the wordplay at the tail-end of the verse as, yes, that happens, perhaps not as iconic as some of his other oddly profound or clever lines on his last record but at least it’s something. At least this is some interesting American trap, unlike...

#25 – “i n t e r l u d e” – J. Cole

Produced by J. Cole, Tommy Parker and T-Minus

The pandemic has affected the music industry to the point where big-name rappers release album interludes as lead singles. Said album has songs shorter than this interlude, with most of its dull filler feeling like additional interludes, quite unbefitting for such a big and hyped-up album from Cole which frankly is just another boring addition to an already consistently dull catalogue. I’m just not interested in what Cole has to say because he’s never been likeable and I feel like there’s better rappers that bridge the gap between old and new like how Cole sees himself as doing, the “MIDDLE CHILD”, perhaps, like, you know, Drake? If we want to go for a more direct comparison from lesser-known rappers, the direct comparison I use for this new record is Aminé’s latest, also made up of a variation of trap bangers featuring massive, charting names versus introspective, conscious lyrics, yet Aminé is an interesting character with quotable lyrics that aren’t embarrassing, knows how to write an actual hook and whilst he also brings on both classic and modern features, he’s never out-done by them, creating an actual bridge rather than just some guy who thinks he can write his own role in the industry and culture without his own music backing his case. Unfortunately for me, it works – every freaking time – largely because of his continually loyal fanbase but also a general public interest in the guy that I do not understand, especially when more than a decade into his career, he’s still pushing out mediocre projects. He cuts his album’s length by a ton and still ends up with a bloated record. I barely need to talk about the track itself, right? Even if it has as much structure and effort put into it as his normal songs do, it’s labelled quite literally as an interlude. Sigh, well, in this interlude, Jermaine raps over a drowned-out soul sample and admittedly, sticks to the topic of reminiscing on where he came from, the violence in Fayetteville, a similar violence of which was what killed Nipsey Hussle, who he compares amongst Pimp C and Jesus as they all died at 33. Cole himself is 36 so I guess for once he doesn’t think he’s Jesus. It took him a while to realise.

#12 – “Higher Power” – Coldplay

Produced by Max Martin, Oscar Holter and Bill Rahko

I assumed this would debut at #3 until the BRIT Awards performance gave it a boost to debut at the top but I guess everyone else had the same opinion of that awful opening performance as I did, because here it is at #12. Well, that doesn’t matter, right? Coldplay’s last album similarly underperformed... but at least that time, they had a genuinely ambitious album for once in their careers with some genuine experimentation and themes I did not expect to come out of Coldplay. It was a better album but not an accessible one, with its only pop single being a bittersweet anti-war anthem which trivialises bombing in the Middle East to onomatopoeia. It’s a great song but it wasn’t going anywhere, so it’s no surprise that their next lead single is a soulless synth-pop track produced by Max Martin. Admittedly, the synth tone in the intro is kind of unique in all its nasal 80s nostalgia, but, man, I thought we moved past just rehashing for a hit, Coldplay. This is pretty obviously just a crap attempt at being “Blinding Lights” which trades in its machine-gun loco-motive drum pattern for one that is a lot more stiff, and its iconic, memorable lyrics for a forgettable set of love-struck laziness. Oh, yeah, and Chris Martin is far from the Weeknd both in the studio and live at the BRIT Awards – seriously, dude sounded half-alive. This isn’t offensive, just a bore that is clearly a desperate label move ready for when they can tour again, and if their last record proved anything it was that Coldplay seemed like they were finally above that.

Conclusion

Well, that’s our week – again, a questionable one at best and kind of a bad one at worst. Either way, this is a strange array of songs and I do like how the UK Singles Chart subverts everything you’d expect of it so often that chaos becomes the trend, even if not all of it is any good. I guess Best of the Week goes to “Freaks” by Surf Curse, with an Honourable Mention to Elton John’s cover of “It’s a sin” with Years & Years. Surprisingly enough, J. Cole actually doesn’t get Worst of the Week as the album gets a lot worse than that interlude, so he gets a Dishonourable Mention alongside Starboi3’s “Dick” being crowned Worst of the Week, and honestly probably Worst of the Year so far, not that I’m keeping track of that. Here’s this week’s top 10:

What’s coming next week? More J. Cole, Olivia Rodrigo’s newest single and probably – and hopefully – some album tracks from Jorja Smith and Nicki Minaj. For now, though, thanks for reading. It’s a big week next week, and I’ll see you then!

[eldonash]

Venom || Kristof&Orobas

Timeline: Beginning of July; after this Chatzy Location: East End; Kristof’s Residence Possible TW: body horror with Orobas’ injury, death Summary:  Kristof finds Orobas after his bad injury, and takes him to his house to let him feed and heal up enough to walk. The two aren’t entirely on friendly terms, but share an deep past. Haxian comes to collect Orobas and learns Kristof is in town.

He didn’t know where he was. The delirium from the pain had made his mind slow, and hazy, and his steps had led him away from his car after he left Lydia’s side. They staggered over his usual elegant ways, and he kept remembering things from his past. Lost in the ghosts of them, following the feeling that these lands would transform into old villages in China, or the clock tower of London. All his lifetimes seemed to overlap right now. He wasn’t close enough to have a mental connection with his master and not having him there made Orobas’ further unhinge.  Haxian-- he thought out and finally settled on the ground, his knees stopping his fall and dirtying them up. Where was he? His eyes closed, and he tried to listen out for a heartbeat, anything that he could use to heal the burns in his mouth and throat, the holes in his cheeks ached and burned around the edges, like a smoldering log in flame. 

She told him that her name was Susanne, and that her place was only a few blocks away. Kristof was not a stranger to women being this forward, and so he accepted her invitation and walked out of the bar, already savoring the taste of her blood. In order to break routine, he decided to play a little game of cat and mouse since it was more entertaining when he made them think they had a chance to escape rather than end their lives so swiftly. Hope was the thing that humans clung to in moments of pure panic and desperation. He was not going to be the bastard to take that away from her. She screamed when she witnessed his true intentions. Amused laughter crept passed the vampire’s lips, watching as the female made a run for it. Heaving a sigh, Kristof started to walk down the alley after the stranger, his pace remaining rather slow. Of course, she had to be a runner, a fairly predictable action. It didn’t exactly change anything, though, he knew that he was much faster than her, so naturally he could catch up if he wanted to. If he wanted to. But it was the familiar scent that distracted him. Finding Orobas in the state he was in was both painful and satisfying. Painful because somewhere deep down in that cold heart of his Kristof still had some type of affection for the vampire who he once considered kindred. Satisfying because it was not him the one suffering and there was something about watching another creature in pain that just made his day just a little bit brighter. Kristof stepped closer to where Orobas was on hands and knees. If the other vampire were to open his eyes all he’d see were his black biker boots splattered with mud. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Orobas’ head tilted minutely at the voice, only seeing soiled boots as he couldn’t move anymore. A rotten coil of annoyance settled in his stomach that Kristof was standing over him, but no matter how they all argued and fought over the many centuries, there was the smallest relief it was someone he knew. Well, he had hoped for a nice dinner with the four of them to establish some truce and say hello in a much more controlled manner, but he hadn’t predicted what happened with Lydia to turn this way. Not that he minded, the sadist didn’t care about the pain, but he also couldn’t do more without feeding. He fell sideways, landing with a dull thud on the ground. Orobas was always a man dressed impeccably, and the long black jacket was now coated in dirt. The dust from the alleyway puffed around him. He felt a coma like state slow his mind further as the injury was too grievous and a vampires natural inclination to shut down or go berserk dwindled the last of his energy reserves. He couldn’t speak even if he wanted too, his mouth ruined, and burned over. His eyes were in the distance, blurry, but he could hear it, the quick thud of a pulse. 

He paused, lighting the slender cigarette that lay limp, stuck to his damp bottom brim. Pursing his lips the stick rose and the flame, shielded by one of Kristof’s hands, licked at the tip before it began to glow. Sucking on the Marlboro red momentarily he pocketed the lighter before exhaling the scented smoke with a small sigh. The last time he saw Orobas it had not been a particularly happy occasion. It was days before he and Haxian left London and he had given him this look, as if Kristof had been the opposite of civilization. And now, over a century later, he was at his feet, twisting like a wet rat that had just been fed poison. He had two choices. Walk away and leave him here to fend for himself. Perhaps he’d be lucky and manage to feed off some stray before the sun came up or he could grab him and drop him off at Bloodhaven and have someone else deal with the problem. Kristof opted for option three, which was to pick him up and take him home with him. Why would anyone else take credit for nursing him back to health? Besides, he didn’t want to have to explain who he was and why he had found the vampire in the state he was in. So after giving his cigarette one last drag he flicked it, watching it land and drown in the mud. 

“Come on.” Kristof sighed, reaching down to pull him off the ground and throwing Orobas over his shoulder. Was not long before he was placing him on one of the beds in his home and it was then, under the lit room, that he could get the full picture. The horrible portrait of Orobas’ molten face. “You look like hell.” Blood, that’s what he needed. Thankfully he had someone there to use whenever he felt slightly peckish. 

In the past, Orobas’ memories were distant and rung together like a damp towel, spilling freely in a blending of years. Haxian had always made sure they moved a lot, letting Orobas go do whatever he wanted, and then quietly cleaned up behind him. There were long stretches of time that were filled with war, from sword fighting in ancient China, to the civil wars in America, and those periods Orobas killed freely, to a deliriously pleasurable point and every time, when he came out of those crazed states, Haxian was always there. Holding his arm, telling him he did well, encouraging him to be worse for him, a mantra of evil that was so easy to accomplish. How many lives have been taken by Orobas? Hundreds of thousands. Being in such a state wasn’t new for him, slayers had always eventually found them, to kill a legend like him was too good to pass up, but this was the first time ever-- in four hundred years, that Haxian wasn’t the one to grab him. 

Orobas wanted to lash out on instinct, to pull out his ivory handled dagger and jab it in Kristof’s throat, but the world was gone from his sight before he could move. When the words drew him hazily from the depths of his mind, and memories, he cracked open red iris’ to look at the space. It all blurred in and out of focus until Kristof’s face finally came in semi-clear. A huff of a laugh came out almost instantly, the faintest of amusement twinkling in his eyes at seeing his face. Kristof would know he needed blood, and so he would give him only a few moments to help him before Orobas attempted to find it himself. Even if he was fighting the darkness on the edges of his vision, his cheeks ached when he wanted to smile and laugh at the situation. Ah, Lydia was just so much fun. He couldn’t wait to have her for a night. All this, it was worth it. 

The side of his face resembled a wax statue, melting under the heat of a lamp, so hell only knew what the inside of his mouth looked like. Kristof was aware of what had caused it, after all, he was no stranger to holy water attacks. Orobas had clearly pissed someone off and even though he might have been curious at some point in time, lately he cared for very little. Besides, this was a vampire who was notorious for making enemies so the fact that someone had taken action against him was not exactly an unforeseen circumstance. Over the centuries they had spent in each other's lives, he had never witnessed him in this state for it was always his own maker who dragged him from whatever purgatory he had been in to protect both his life and his deadly reputation. Had to admit that the sight was rather enjoyable, especially when Orobas laughed, a grotesque spectacle of meat and teeth. 

There was a moment there when he considered ending his misery and putting him down like a wounded animal, not because he did not think Orobas was strong enough to make it but because there was a part of him that was so sick of sharing this planet with the likes of him. However, his own self preservation outweighed his animosity towards the younger vampire and so he left him alone to fetch for Marie. He had dragged her from Teeth a few days ago and she had been staying like a live in blood doll ever since. Her pale skin showed the marks that Kristof’s hunger had left behind, not a part of her left unblemished. “Sorry honey, this is where you get off.” He smiled at her, sweetly, knowing that Orobas needed to consume her and that she was not going to survive this. Shame, really, since she was quite the snack. Kristof watched as Marie approached the bed and offered her neck to the devil. 

Orobas was aware to the dangers of this situation. Any of them who lasted for centuries have at least a few times been in such a place. Circumstances dissolved easily, people back stabbed you, and luck always flipped, even on an immortal. When the throb of hunger struck him, it was like he was put back in a newborn mindset, his features sunk in, the graying around his eyes hollowing out as his body creaked from the intense snarl to his damaged jawline. Through the sharp ache that required his mouth to open and clamp on the young woman was fire, he attacked, with a feral need that swept over his mind. The crunch into her throat was loud and deadly, and the blood, was warm, and rich, a sweetness that took away the burnt scent. The blood leaked through some of the holes in his cheeks. His hand gripped on her wrist out of habit of people always attempting to hit him, pinned it down to the bed. When her heart stopped, when the last spasm came from her fingers, he paused-- closing his eyes as his body tried to heal.

Kristof had witnessed other vampires feed on multiple occasions and it was a sight that he fully enjoyed. There was just something about watching another vampire in their element that got his blood pumping. Marie was not expecting it to be this rough though, poor thing. Girl’s like her were easy to come by. Girls who loved the rush of sharp fangs penetrating their skin and feeling so close to death they could taste it. Eight times out of ten, they were sucked completely dry. It seemed funny to him, how they whimpered and cried when they realized that it was no longer a game. That they were in fact about to die. They would move their weak limbs to try and push him away, but it was always in vain for he was stronger and easily overpowered them. Tonight was no exception only he was not the one doing the act but he was merely a casual observer. He stood close by and watched as she exposed her neck to Orobas, showing her previous marks with a sense of pride that made him actually pity her for a moment. Just for a moment.Then fangs ripped into her like daggers with such force that they crushed the bones of her larynx, and there are so many small bones in the human throat. That was definitely not what she was expecting, and she delivered a gut wrenching sound that would have resembled a scream if her vocal cords had not been cut into ribbons. Blood gushed through the holes of Orobas’ cheeks, soaking the bed sheets with rivers of red. An inconvenience.

One second, and Orobas was on the other side of the bed, his ivory handled dagger drawn from the depths of his coat, he fell a little-- his head dizzy and exhausted as he needed to feed more, but regardless, took a defensive position across from Kristof. “Mhm,” the throaty sound, a demented, broken grin just managed to surface as he barely healed, all of him a mess against the pristine surroundings. His head tilted, observing, though obvious he was far from fine. It would take a long time too from this injury. “Kristof--” his voice rough, he licked the blood on his teeth, and fingered the drip off some down his cheek to bring it to his lips. “Is there a catch to this help, mmm? Back in town it seems. What timing.”

Her heart slowly came to a halt and immediately Orobas moved, standing in a more defensive posture, questioning his reasons for helping him in the first place. “Catch? There’s no catch between friends, is there?” Kristof chuckled, licking his own lips as the smell of death hit his nostrils. Soon enough Marie’s body would start to decompose and her beauty would be a thing he had committed to memory. “I have to say, I was expecting for our first meeting to be a lot more pleasant than this but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Orobas’ feral, distorted grin widened at the mention of friends, mouth stained and gums blackened. Sure. That was one way of putting it. With Francesca and him running through England finding parties and closing the doors to muffle the screams, in watching canvas’ painted in bloody, pretty splatters while they all lounged and drank in the warm summer nights. In causing mayhem with Kristof and Haxian to the point Orobas could actually hold a pang of longing for such a time-- those moments were friendship. Until it broke. Now-- hundred or so years later, he didn’t know what it was, and he wouldn’t ever fully trust it. He attempted to stand without leaning, wobbly, but didn’t make to ruin anything in the space with the blood on his person. 

“You know, I had dinner in mind. Something for the four of us to enjoy, catch up under nicer circumstances--” Orobas always spoke the truth, finding it proved better to make his words hold weight. His hand tightened around his ancient weapon, the ivory handle worn over the centuries to match his palm and grip. “Settled too?” So you are here to stay. He glanced around, the burn in his throat ached for more. “Didn’t come find us right away? You surely knew we were here. Haxian will be delighted to see you have survived.”

He would never admit to it, but he liked Orobas’ delight in being the hunter, the devil who took life with gluttonous glee. Some of the vampires he had encountered lately were so damn broody. “Yes, friends.” Kristof repeated, sternly. Surely it had been a long time since they have acted as such. The four of them, immortals following the call of their craving. Overgrown children, slaves to their more primitive emotions. Only the innocence was missing. These primeval Peter Pan’s were dangerous killers with razor sharp fangs that had caused more death and destruction between them than most dictators. “We can always have dinner. You have always been such an entertaining host.” When the other vampire pointed out that he was already settled there was a heavy, sarcastic snicker that expelled from his lips. 

“I arrived a few weeks ago. Wanted to be completely settled before announcing my decision to stay. It’s such a nice little town, isn’t it? Full of sweet things like Marie here.” Haxian? Happy to see him? That’s a laugh. “I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic. How is the old brute? I’m assuming he’s not as good looking as he once was?” The way Orobas was standing still was making the entire situation a lot more tense than it needed to be and Kristof found himself rolling his eyes. “For god's sake Orobas, you won’t need to use your precious dagger. Besides, shouldn’t your greatest weapon be inside your mouth?”

“Hm, I like to see my enemy’s pain and shock on their face when I kill them. They never expect a dagger when they are looking at fangs,” Orobas exposed himself without care, it’s why the hunters didn’t always know they were dealing with a vampire over the years. Because Orobas enjoyed hacking people up over feeding on them. He put it away, pulled off his jacket which was a mess, and folded it neatly to show he was conceding his aggression minutely. “Had to be sure. Such old relationships can’t always last with the wicked. May I?” He inquired, and moved towards the bathroom to wash his hands. He didn’t know how he looked at the moment, but the pain still throbbed like he had run into the sun for hours. The holes in his cheeks had somewhat sealed, but it would take days to mend likely. 

“Haxian is always beautiful,” Orobas mused, “he’s already begun his transformation, but you know it's a gradual thing. Every day he looks a little different. I find it quite mesmerizing.” He glanced over, red still tinted in his iris’, his words sweet sounding as usual, but rough from his injury. “You will too--” a dark truth spoken, as Orobas found none of his kind’s appearance haunting. “Of course, that will mark our permanent parting. Two elders in the same little city will only bring too much attention.”

“Right, cause you’re freaky like that.” In a way Kristof could understand the fascination that Orobas had with cutting people open since he himself has used many tools for torturing purposes. But when it came down to it, he found more pleasure in tearing them apart with his teeth. There was nothing more satisfying than to feel the crushing of bones in his mouth, the taste of flesh on his tongue but most importantly the eruption of blood from a torn carotid artery. “It has always seemed so primitive, but - to each their own.” He watched as Orobas removed his jacket, folding it neatly and then made his way towards the bathroom, dragging his dirt across the expensive tiles to reach the sink. The way he spoke of Haxian and his current state made him laugh because Kristof, in his own narcissistic mind, could not comprehend how anyone could look at an elder vampire and still call it beautiful. 

“Oh, you have always been such a romantic.” Truly Francesca would not share the same opinion of her maker once he started to develop signs of aging. You will too. The thing that has been haunting him lately. One more decade and it would be all over for him. Never, he thought, not daring to speak of it out loud. Not about to share with Orobas that another reason he was here was to find a way to stop this from happening. “Then we should take advantage of these next few years we have left. All of us together.” Kristof sighs, offering Orobas a gentle smile that seemed out of place on his face. “That’s why I came here. I want to be with family before it happens.”

Orobas quirked a brow, and sat down on the edge of the tub, pulling at his shoes, and in general wanting to be cleaned up was very apparent. Though someone who lived in carnage, guts, and blood splatters on a daily night. The dirt infuriated him, and his outfit under his jacket was shockingly expensive and he didn’t want it further soiled. “Romantic? I have no idea what you are saying,” Orobas waved at him lightly, blinded by his ability to care deeply for those closest to him, unable to identify love if it smacked him in the face. It was an ongoing frustration for those around him who have seen him go to the ends of the earth and back for his friends, someone capable of a deep caring that might need a different word to explain it. Kristof sounded like he was in mourning, and Orobas pondered that piece of information. It was a natural progression, it should be understood time for an immortal couldn’t hold human visages. 

His head swam for a moment, and he closed his eyes to remove the four Kristof’s from view, and the splitting of the room, his hand went up to his head and held it a moment. “Haxian’s master couldn’t handle being an Elder for long. Vanity, it seems, is a corrupted problem for my bloodline. I’m quite determined to be sure he doesn’t have the same thoughts she did and I am not asked to behead him.” He stilled, regretfully still weakened, and talking ached everything, the pain evident though Orobas didn’t let him stop chatting. “What is a decade to us but a blimp of time easily forgotten,” his gaze lifted, though hazy, still held his usual observing intensity. “Family is all us older creatures have when the world passes by. You should make up with Haxian. You two used to be close— I never did find out why he was mad with you.”

“Yes, romantic. You and Haxian have been together for how long?” Honestly has Orobas ever been without his maker? Kristof didn’t consider himself to have old-fashioned ideas about the way people seemed to form relationships these days, leaving each other behind like waste on the side of the road when they tired of one another. He wasn’t so naïve that he didn’t realize how normal it was, how much easier, to have liaisons that lasted only a night, brief hours in a cold city that would leave nothing behind but scattered memories, nothing substantial or familiar. A few times scattered over the years, and Kristof hadn’t considered anything deeper since he’d come to America. The creatures he met now, would never know him, really; and living that deception would be harder, he knew, if he let emotions get involved. Really, emotions were the death of anyone. Once they appeared, there was little hope of losing them; they could turn the world upside down, make logic look insane. Emotions hurt people as much as they helped them, and Kristof was wondering just when he’d gotten so cynical when he looked at Orobas, caught the odd note in his voice, and wondered if this creature who was as ice-cold inside as he felt sometimes has ever actually felt anything real. Or if all of that passion was reserved only for the one who made him. Feeling, really, was what got you killed. Feeling could make you care about ruined lives, and too much of it and you were gone, lost, swept under a wave of regret that would be impossible to shut down. 

He laughed shortly, genuine, shaking his head, that mischievous look on Haxian’s face burned into his memory and he wondered how he looked now - possibly miserably and about ready to end it. “It isn’t just your bloodline.” He confessed without really confessing to anything. Ten years was nothing. To a vampire it might as well be ten days. Kristof felt as if he was going to suffocate under the pressure of his own destiny. “I probably should. Haxian thinks I became too insufferable for his liking. Not that I disagree with him. I’m actually looking forward to catching up with my oldest friend.” He chuckled, partly joking. “You know the main reason I’m here is her, don’t you?”

“I have figured the moment I saw her, that you wouldn’t be far behind,” Orobas said about Francesca, having told her he had expected it sooner. “And I’ve never been without him.” The moment he said such a thing a presence was in the hallway, a flutter of bat wings that creaked in the space like a haunting sound, and materialized into a lean form draped in black attire. Haxian used to be shockingly beautiful, with fair skin that was always translucent and pearl like, eyes bright, and lingering on his prey to draw them in without needing to say a word. Anyone wished to get close, to touch. His youthful turning perpetually gave him an air of arrogance, but now his bones were transformed, bat ears, and fangs always present, the marble-like height to his cheekbones dented, and accentuated in hallowing around his eyes in gray hues. 

“We don’t change, so I expect you are the same,” Haxian said easily towards Kristof once all of him solidified into the cramped hall, the boyish energy he had finally gone, leaving a different, darker energy between them. Orobas staggered up from the tub edge, shoes in hand, and made to leave the bathroom. Haxian grabbed his bicep and pulled him towards him, looking at his face, and Orobas only offered a chuckle, and wayward smile that was clearly excruciating. “He didn’t do this, thank him master-- he did feed me.” Haxian looked up, and Orobas made to walk out of the place, pulling against the grip on his arm that finally let go, and lifted his hand in a wave goodbye. “Be seeing you, Kristof,” came Orobas’ sing-song tone. Haxian stood there between them. His expression is complicated. “Thank you--”

“I was biding my time.” The tone was dry and yet it had the usual level of playfulness in which Kristof used to speak of all things. It was this mockery that made it difficult to ever truly recognize his intentions or even his true feelings towards something or someone. The very reason why Francesca believed him to be a cold and cynical creature. For the most part, she was right. “Love and loyalty run deeper than blood.” He offhandedly commented before a wind broke inside the room followed by a swarm of bats. There he was, Haxian, denied of his previous boyish looks. Now he bore resemblance to something out of a horror novel. A flesh and blood Nosferatu. Haxian was not the first elder that Kristof had met during his 490 years of walking this earth but it was the first one he knew prior to the transformation. This was the first time that he came face to face to the thing he would soon become and he was not sure how to process it. “Haxian, I can see you’re still fond of dramatic entrances.” Kristof licked his lips, trying to hide the inner turmoil that he felt as he stared into the eyes of the creature before him. Unrecognizable, monstrous, deformity. Glued to this figure dressed in pitch black as he collected his belongings, his eyes ached. Orobas beckoned Haxian to thank him, even though the action was completely unnecessary. Thank you, he said. A voice still as sweet as ever. A ghoulish contrast to his macabre looks. “You’re welcome. What are friends for?”

“We are not friends,” Haxian said with a confident, cruel edge. Even with his age, he could always be childish, holding grudges. His stance kept himself between Kristof and Orobas who was barely making it out of the place on his own behind him. A clear line, a predatory, obsessive reminder. Orobas was always the one to bring them together. Somehow, Orobas with the most distant of emotions, could manipulate stubborn creatures into playing nice if he wanted. Perhaps that was why, like Kristof said, he always was a decent host. It was clear Haxian had much more to say to Kristof, the conflict shown easily on his face, always expressive, unlike his progeny’s. “Another time--” he spoke of his inner turmoil, certain that Kristof would sense it. Haxian wanted to be angry for an eternity at him, and was stubborn enough to carry on with it. He nodded lightly, and turned to take Orobas home. 

Not friends. Kristof’s lips spread into a wicked smile at he words and the saltiness behind them. “Oh Haxian, aren’t we too old to hold grudges?” Of course he was being rather hypocritical since he was perfectly capable of doing the same. Monsters understood monsters after all. Orobas was still weak despite the feeding, more proof that whatever happened to him had taken quite a toll. Still, his curiosity regarding the incident remained muted for he had bigger things to worry about it. Deep down he felt a sting of jealousy while watching them. The devotion they had for one another was both sickening and captivating. The words that came next sounded almost solemn, which made Kristof wonder if Haxian was getting nostalgic now that they were in the same room after so many years. 

“It’s good to see you.” A whisper that no human ears could hear but that definitely reached Haxian’s and his progeny. And just like that, they were gone and Kristof was left alone with the memories of the past and the god awful prospect of the future. 

[gayllamafromspace]

I dunno if anyone would be interested in this at all, but I have an original project I've been mulling over for the past few months. I mean COMPLETELY original. Original characters, world, cultures (that take inspiration from some irl religions and practices), gods/religion. Literally everything.

Anyway, I have some OCs that I've been trying to flesh out a story for. Their names are Lyra Cygnus, Raith Vera, and Tori La Joya. There are some side characters of course (Quinton La Joya, Elaena Cygnus-La Joya, Susane Roe-La Joya... then the gods: Melanna, Ludor, and Zara)

Lyra is cannotically a Lesbian, Raith is Pan, and Tori is Demi/Polyamorous.

Ages:

At the beging of the story Lyra is 19, Raith is 70(she's a vampire, physically she is 20), and Tori is 12 - almost 13. This is when they all get together and meet.

When the real shit starts happening, Lyra is 22, Raith is 73, and Tori is 15.

By the end of the story, I'm thinking that Tori should be 19 or 20. So that would make Lyra 26/27, and Raith would be 77/78.

So the whole story takes place over the span of 7 to 8 years, with a few flashbacks and junk.

-------------

What will the plot be? I'm still trying to figure that out. I do know that there will be war/battle/prophecies/magic and things like that.

Basically though, there's a prophecy about a human gifted by Zara with magick who would end the war between man and magick(a human hasn't been directly gifted for over a century, all witches at the current time are hereditary magick users - descended from the witches who were blessed well over 100 years ago.)

Now, all of the strings attached to that shit weren't accounted for. I'm trying to be as vague as possible lol. I do have pictures of my lovely children tho! I will reblog this with them.

Anyway, people die, people get hurt, horrible shit happens. There will be racism and political problems, along with religious clashes. Humans basically decided they they are the superior race and had begun worshiping their own God - a fake one, but it's all really a political sham in order to keep control and stuff. Only magical races, and some humans, worship the REAL gods.

The Gods:

Melanna, the first God. Goddess of creation, light, darkness, love, and authority.

Ludor, the second God, created Melanna (he was once a mortal Nymph, they fell in love and she made him a god) he's the God of life, death, reincarnation, balance, and change.

Zara, the child of Ludor and Melanna. She is closest to the mortal races of Renowyn (the world they live in), she's the Goddess of peace, magick, mortality, and fate.

Mortal Races:

There are of course all of the animals from this world.

Avians are a race of winged humanoids that were created in Melanna's image. They are diverse, and basically the messengers of all races. (Think Angels, but less ethereal) They were the first race created, they have free thought and individuality. The only thing Melanna asks is that they always seek new knowledge and insure that freedom is never stripped from those undeserving. Avians can live a very long time, 300 years at most. An Avian society can be best compared to one of ancient Rome or Greece. Avians can use magick.

Nymphs were the second race Melanna created, and the race that Ludor came from. The Nymphs have horns, pointy ears, and tails. The are humanoid, like the Avians, but lack the defining wings and longer life spans. Nymphs can only live up to 100 years. The Nymphs were created to bring peace and fertility to the earth. They're culture can be best compared to that of Native Americans. There are 4 different types tribes. The forest tribe, the desert tribe, the valley tribe, and the snowy tribe. Ludor had been a descendant chief of a forest tribe, he united all of the tribes and became the head cheiftan of the Nymphs.

(Avians and Nymphs have long been at odds, they eventually had built a wall separating themselves from eachother. The wall built to avoid further conflict, like the kind that created humans)

Humans were created by Melanna striping traitorous avians of their wings and magick. They were exiled to another continent. The former avians, now humans, in question had enslaved and tortured nymphs under the impression that "they are inferior and do not deserve to exist in their disconnect from Melanna" (Avians have a closer relationship with Melanna than Nymphs do). The rebel Avians shunned the knowledge of the Nymphs and stile their freedom, so Melanna saw fit to punish them. They went directly against her wishes. (This all happened before Ludor was made a god) Human society is comparable to medieval times - kingdoms, kings/queens, lords/ladies, dukes/duchesses, etc.

Witches/seers were created by Zara. Humans who she saw as worthy to give the gift of magick and foresight too. (She asked her mom first, don't worry) Witcher are the reason that Werewolves and Vampires exist. Their culture is comparable to paganism/Celtic/nordic traditions. They are a race of discovery and practice. At one with nature.

Werewolves were created when a coven of witches attempted to punish human criminals by turning them into wolves so that they would be hunted. (The criminals were rapists, murderers, pedophiles, etc) the coven was tacked during the ritual which caused the curse to go wrong. Instead of being turned into wild wolves, they were turned into bloodthirsty monsters that would be to shift during the full moon. Pure blooded werewolves have no control in their wolf form, and the only remaining pure blooded werewolves are all incestuous. Werewolves with delluted blood (werewolves that crossed with humans) gain more control and less monstrous forms as the gene is passed down. Lyra is decended from werewolves and has more humanity in her blood than beast, so she can shift whenever she wants (there is still the urge to shift during a full moon, but she can resist) and she is full conscious and aware of what's going on while in wolf form. The diluted gene can only be activated if someone descended from werewolves is scratched or bitten by one. If a normal human is bitten nor scratched the would will get infected and kill them. The saliva of a werewolf attacks the white blood cells and would prevent the wound from healing on a normal human. They would bleed out and die.

Vampires were also created by witches through a curse. A man, basically Jeffrey Dommer, was supposed to be cursed to never walk in the light of day again, least he die. He would forever be hungry and never be able to sate his hunger. There was a miss pronounciation, and the whole thing went to shit. He was indeed always hungry, but he would feed off of the blood of humans. He could not walk in the light of day or he would burn and die. But he gained unimaginable speed, agility, strength, and heightened senses as well. He went off on a murdering spree, but on his way he had accidentally turned some people. These new vampires were furious and killed him in his own palace. They turned their families. Vampires could live virtually forever, because their body would no longer decay over time. Like the werewolf gene, as the venom was passed down from vampire to human, it's potency would lessen. Within 4 generations of vampires, they had developed a tolerance for sunlight, they could easily get a sunburn, but they would not die. They could feed on the blood of animals rather than humans, and even live off of human food. Garlic though became a common allergy, ingesting it could give them a severe stomach virus and possibly burn holes into their stomachs. Raith is one of the most humanlike vampires of the time, so human that she actually has full functionality of her womb. She does still need blood though, and she can tolerate werewolf blood in small amounts.

Shapeshifters are the species created when werewolves and witches have children. They have a weakness to magick, but they can shift their appearance to look however they imagine it. If wounded, they will revert back to their original form until healed. Their original form is just like a humans.

Fae are the more reclusive species of Renowyn. They are created when Nymphs and witches have children. They are nature spirits at heart and have close relationships with the earth, their magick is plant based. They can turn invisible. Sirens are a rare subspecies of Fae. They live in the depths of the ocean and only come on land during the high tide. Many are the love children of Fae and shapeshifters. Normal Fae have pointy ears (down cast... I'll show a picture in the reblog), sharp fangs protruding from the bottoms of their mouths (think orcs?). Sea Fae/Sirens have webbed ears, fingers, and fins on their arms. During low tide they sport the usual fishtail or tentacles, but during high tide that are more humanoid. They can camoflodge, but they can't turn invisible.

ANYWAY!!! I just wanted to share my random stuff. I guess show that I do kore than just fan projects? I dunno, I just wanna talk about this stuff with somebody, get opinions and see if anyone is interested.

Please, please I'm begging, no one steal this from me. I've poured my heart and should into this, please don't take away and call it yours. I know that's a massive risk when putting my stuff on here... but please, have a heart and leave my story be, this passion project is more than just a drabble. It's a life goal, I want to create something from this and share it with world. Dont be an asshole and crush my dreams by stealing it and making it your own... I will condone making your own OCs out of the taxes and stuff, just credit me with #Renowyn or just #GayLlamaFromSpace Original Project or whatever... or just @ me lol. That is if anyone would be interested in creating (a) character(s)? I dunno. Just... this is here now. I'll probably be posting more about it.

[kelyon]

Nephila

My contribution to the Rumbelle Monsterfucker’s ball!!

Belle French is a naturalist called in to find out what’s been killing--but not eating--local sheep. What she finds will change her life. 

Read on AO3

"Nephila is a genus of araneomorph spiders noted for the impressive webs they weave. Nephila consists of numerous species found in warmer regions around the world. They are commonly called golden silk orb-weavers, golden orb-weavers, giant wood spiders, or banana spiders.

"The genus name Nephila is derived from Ancient Greek, meaning "fond of spinning.""

****

Even for late August, it was stupidly hot. Belle French trudged across the stupidly designed quad of the University of Maine’s Storybrooke Campus. The cardigan she had stupidly worn as part of her “first day of school as an adjunct professor” outfit stuck to her back. The sweater was further pressed against her body by the leather strap of the bag she had stupidly slung over her shoulder. And the bag was heavy with five classes worth of “getting to know you” one-page essays she had stupidly assigned her undergraduates and--most stupidly of all--promised to return for credit next class. 

She was the professor, goddamit, why was she the one with homework?

“Belle! Belle!” 

Belle heard the running almost before she heard the voice calling after her. She stopped and turned and saw Ruby Lucas sprinting towards her. In the years she’d known Ruby, Belle had seen her run in everything from sneakers to stilettos to those “barefoot running” foot gloves, but she had never seen her friend look as winded as she did right now.

“What’s going on?” Belle asked as Ruby got closer. “Is there an emergency? Is your grandmother okay?”

Ruby shook her head and gulped down air before she started talking. “Wheren.... Aus... la...ufrum?”

Belle blinked at her friend. “You want to run that by me again?”

With her hands on her knees, Ruby took another deep breath, which only improved things by a fraction. “Where in... Australia… are... you from?

“Melbourne,” Belle answered, then added, “Did you run all the way from the Bio Building just to ask me that?”

“No,” Ruby panted, her mind clearly going faster than her breath would allow. “The next thing I wanna know is, how far is Melbourne from Queensland?”

Belle gaped at her friend. What was going on? “What part of Queensland? It’s a big state.”

“I don’t know what part. But if you go to Queensland, can you crash with your parents?”

“I--No?” Belle gathered herself and squashed down her incredulity. “Ruby, that’s like asking if my parents can stay with me here in Maine while they stop down and go to Disney World! Now will you tell me what’s going on? Why do we need emergency trivia about Australian geography?”

 “Bio department got a call,” Ruby huffed. “The University of Brisbane is looking for field agents for a job, but they don’t want any specialists.”

Belle’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Ruby nodded. “I know! It’s weird. It sounds like they’re looking for general zoologists.” She put her hand meaningfully on Belle’s shoulder. “Like someone who still hasn’t picked out a specific branch of study even though she’s well into her doctoral process!”

Unlike Ruby--who had decided in middle school that lupine biology was her passion and had never strayed from that course--Belle had yet to find a specialization that she could stick with. All animals were equally fascinating to her--from bison to crocodiles to arachnids--and she had spent countless credit hours in one field, only to find her enthusiasm building for another subject. She had gotten through her bachelor’s and master’s degrees by taking basic classes and calling herself a generalist. After all, zoology was a legitimate discipline all by itself. Even if specialization was more likely to offer job prospects.

But… this was a job prospect. Wasn’t it?

“Why does the University of Brisbane want an unspecialized naturalist?”

Ruby handed Belle a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. “I guess you’ll have to ask them when you get there.”

****

Four weeks, three interviews, and one extended leave of absence later, Belle got off the plane at the Mount Isa Airport. She was met by a short, gruff-looking man from the university. He took her bags and threw them in the back of a dust-covered Jeep.

“This is the real outback, isn’t it?” Belle shouted as they drove along a bumpy road. The loud Jeep pulled up clouds of red dust as it went.

“Not really,” the man yelled over the noise. He hadn’t introduced himself, but he wore an ID badge that said Leroy. “But it’s close enough that tourists can’t tell the difference!”

“I’m really not a tourist!” Belle grabbed onto the dashboard as the Jeep jolted over some unidentifiable obstacle in the road. “I’m with the university!”

“I know! You’re gonna find what’s killing the sheep!”

“Is that what this is about?” In all her briefings on this assignment, Belle still hadn’t been told why they needed someone who had no specialty.

Leroy pulled off the road and onto a paved driveway that eventually led up to a massive house.

“This property belongs to Mary Margaret and David Nolan,” he said when he cut the engine. “They’re sheep graziers, and they’ve noticed a diminishing return on their flock. Usually, they’d call it dingos and move on. But the shepherds aren’t finding bones or carcasses. They’re finding bodies, but they haven’t been eaten. There are only ever two bites on a sheep.”

Leroy hadn’t looked at Belle much on their ride to the Nolan station, but now as he sat in the parked Jeep with his hands on the steering wheel, he turned and looked her dead in the eyes. “They look like fang marks.”

“Well, God knows there are enough venomous animals on this continent. We have a list of usual suspects. What kind of snakes live in this area?”

“Sister,” Leroy opened his door. “I’ve lived in these parts for twenty years, I’ve never seen anything do damage like this.”

He took her bag out of the Jeep and lead her to an outbuilding off the side of the main house. The edge of a folded-over blue tarp flapped in the wind on the ground outside, though most of the material was weighed down by an object hidden inside the fold.

Leroy stood over the tarp, but looked at her before he lifted it. “Are you ready to look at this?”

Belle swallowed her fear and squared her jaw. “Of course I’m ready. I’m a professional.” 

“Okay.”

It was definitely a sheep, that thing on the tarp. And it was definitely dead. Belle couldn’t help but feel sorry for the animal’s untimely demise. Her heart and stomach both wrenched at the sight of its lifeless eyes, its stiff limbs and unnaturally twisted neck.

The condition of the animal was as Leroy had described: it wasn’t eaten or dismembered. The sheep didn’t even look as though it had been attacked--at least, not by anything with ripping claws or crushing mandibles.

But there were marks on the sheep. On the neck, about ten centimeters apart, there were two deep incisions. Belle got a pair of rubber gloves out of her bag and examined the marks. The whole of her hand fit in the space between the holes. She could fit two fingers inside of the wounds, they were deep enough to go up to her second knuckle.

“That’s definitely not a snake,” Belle said. She turned to Leroy. “Are you sure this was an animal? Do the Nolans have enemies? This could just be the work of some really sick human.” 

A new voice entered the conversation. “You really think a person is capable of that kind of torture to a helpless animal?”

Belle straightened up and looked at the new speaker. He was a tall man in khakis and a bush hat, an outfit that should have been practical, but just made him look like he was dressing up as Crocodile Dundee. He had spoken with an American accent, so it was entirely possible that he had, in fact, bought a new wardrobe in order to appear “authentic” for his trip “down under.” 

Folding her arms over her chest, Belle gave the man a look of incredulous disdain. “It can’t be a controversial opinion that in most conflicts between men and beasts, humans are the aggressors.”

The tall man laughed, an obnoxiously boisterous sound. He clapped Leroy on the back, as though he were a pint-sized sidekick. Leroy glared at him and shook off his hand. 

“Miss French, this is your expedition partner.”

“Clay Gaston,” the man extended his hand. He had a very white smile “I knew I was the braun to your brain, but no one mentioned your beauty!”

Belle shook his hand for just long enough to be polite and then pulled away. She decided to ignore the remark about her looks. “I’m Belle French, one-woman co-oprative between the Universities of Maine and Brisbane. Are you associated with an institute?”          

Mr. Gaston shook his head. “I’m a big game hunter, the Nolans hired me to kill whatever you find. No beast alive stands a chance against me. And no girl for that matter!” He gave another smile that Belle officially classified as ‘shit-eating.’

This was going to be a long, stupid, trip.

****

The next morning, after breakfasting with the Nolans and getting a few more answers than she’d had before, Belle set out to find her sheep attacker. The couple said that all the sheep with fang marks had been found within a hundred meters of an abandoned mine. Of course, the entire area was littered with old mine shafts, so that only sort of narrowed down the possibilities. But it was something to go on, at least.

Squinting in the merciless sun as she left the main house, Belle couldn’t quite believe that Gaston was sitting behind the wheel of the Jeep.

“Isn’t Leroy the driver around here?”

“Three’s a crowd,” Gaston said. “I drove around this ranch for a few days before you got here, I can get you where you need to go.”

“It’s called a station,” Belle muttered as she walked around the Jeep to get in the passenger side. 

When she climbed in, Belle saw a long rifle laying across the back seat. How had Gaston gotten that through customs? She gaped at it, then turned to Gaston. “Tell me that’s a tranquilizer gun.” 

The man scoffed and started the Jeep before Belle had her seatbelt on. “The Nolans hired us to get rid of the thing that’s killing their sheep. Your part is to tell me what to shoot at. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The sight of the gun and Gaston’s cavalier attitude about this whole expedition gave Belle a stomach ache. But she shook her head and tried to focus on their mission.

“So what’s your plan, Mr. Gaston?”

“Follow the mine shafts,” he said. At least he kept his eyes on the road. “If we find a body, we can try to track whatever killed it. If all goes well, we’ll find the thing, kill it, and bring the body back to the Nolans tonight. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go back and try something else tomorrow.”

In the vast catalogue of “bad plans,” that wasn’t the worst. Belle reminded herself that Gaston was a professional hunter and tracker. And the same people who had hired her had also hired him. He couldn’t be as much of an idiot as he seemed. 

After an hour in the dusty wasteland, Belle spotted a white lump in the distance. Gaston drove the Jeep off the dirt road and pulled up to the animal. With her rubber gloves covering her to the wrist, Belle examined the carcass. Like the one on the tarp back at the station, this sheep was uninjured except for two red puncture wounds. 

Unlike the sheep at the station, this one was still warm.

“It’s close,” Belle said. The sheep’s blood was still wet and tacky on her gloves. She hastily removed them. “You think it’s in the mine?”

Gaston made a show of looking around the flat expanse around them. “Something this big can’t just hide behind a bush. If we don’t see it, it’s not on the surface.”

Belle exhaled slowly through her nose. He wasn’t wrong. There was a hole in the ground only a few meters away from where they stood, where the sheep had been attacked. They were right on top of a mine. Something could have very easily come up from the ground, attacked the sheep, and run back home.

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Belle muttered. “Why would an animal kill a sheep and not eat it?”

Gaston shrugged. “Maybe it thought the sheep was something else? Like, sharks think that people are seals when they bite them.”

“Maybe,” Belle said. “But what does it want instead? And how would it know that there was prey but not know what it was?”

Her brow furrowed in against the sunlight, Belle squinted down at the sheep. There was something glinting beside the carcass. Belle crouched down to get a closer look. The sparkling thing was gold against the red dirt. 

“Is that jewelry?” A dropped necklace would be evidence that this senseless slaughter was in fact the work of people--maybe some cruel teenagers or the Nolan’s cutthroat rivals.

But when Belle examined the thing, she saw that it wasn’t any kind of chain. It was thin as a hair, at risk of blowing away in the wind. It almost looked like some kind of golden thread. 

“Are we going to the mine or what?” Gaston said.

 Still squinting, Belle followed the line of the thread as it wove around the sheep and over the brush and into the hole in the ground. She stood up and slapped the dust off her shorts. 

“I think we have to,” Belle said. Though the animal’s access point was right in front of them, Belle had no interest in rappelling from a hole in the ground down into the unknown. She turned to look down the dirt road, and then back at Gaston. “Where’s the entrance?”

****

The mine was dark and cavernous. The entrance had been at ground level, a few hundred meters away from where they had found the sheep. As they went on, the path sloped steeply downwards into the earth. The only light came from their battery-operated torches. Belle held her light in one hand and left the other hand free as she walked. Gaston had an LED light mounted on his shoulder and used both hands to hold his rifle. The LEDs gave off a cold, bluish light that gave Belle a headache. She’d had her torch since she was a kid, and it gave off a warm yellow glow that made it easier to trace the gold-colored threads that hung all around the stone mine walls.    

“I can’t tell if I’m Orpheus or Theseus,” Belle remarked. “Descending into the underworld, but following a golden thread so I don’t get lost in the maze.”

“Is that from a movie or something?”

Belle opened her mouth, but then decided it wasn’t worth it.

There was nothing alive in the mines. In the light of her torch, Belle didn’t see any signs of animals--no bones or scat or likely habitats. There was nothing here but dust and rocks and strands of golden thread. As they went deeper into the mines, the threads became more frequent, the spacing of them denser and harder to avoid. Weaving around each other over and over, the threads almost seemed to form a narrow tunnel.

Gaston ducked, but couldn’t avoid scraping his head against the threads. He pulled the gold out of his black hair and grimaced at the sticky strands. “This isn’t real gold, is it? We’re not literally walking through a gold mine?”

“No,” Belle said. “Honestly, these look like cobwebs more than anything else.”

Giving up the subtle approach, Gaston used the butt of his rifle to clear away the rest of the tunnel. “You think a spider did all this?”

They emerged into a vast space, like a cathedral in the middle of the mine. There were a few boarded-up mine shafts above their heads, letting in narrow beams of sunlight. Looking up, Belle realized just how far under the ground they were.

Then the beam of her torch caught the golden threads again. But the threads were no longer sparse trails, or even the dense mass of the tunnel. Now they formed a sprawling, asymmetrical web that covered the entire space of the cavern. Belle and Gaston both looked up at it, gaping.

“Yeah,” Belle said. “I think that’s a spider’s work.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gaston swallow. “A spider that’s big enough to kill sheep but not hungry enough to eat them.”  

Belle nodded. “I wonder what it really wants.”

She didn’t see what happened next. Her first sensation was of motion beside her, of Gaston falling over and shouting out, “Oof!” Then a hard crunch and half the light went out. All the illumination from the LEDs vanished. 

A man screamed. Gaston! Belle swept her yellow beam over the ground, frantically searching for him.

But he wasn’t on the ground.

She saw him, five meters up in the air, his body already wrapped up like a mummy and dangling by a golden thread. He was struggling to break free, but with every second, Belle could see his movements become weaker and more disjointed. In no time at all, he was still.

When Gaston’s wrapped-up body spun around, Belle saw two large fang marks on his shoulder. She screamed.

“Shhhh,” a raspy voice came from the dimness. “Don’t make noise.”

Belle swung her torch all over the room. “Who’s there? Where are you?”

“My home,” the voice said. “You trespassed.” 

Heart pounding, Belle tried to stay calm. “Your home?” she asked, still looking for the source of the voice. “You live here? With that spider around?”

“Not a spider,” was the only answer. “Spiders are small.”

Belle worked very hard to keep her panting from becoming hyperventilating. “Then what killed Mr. Gaston?” 

“Not killed,” came the sound of the voice. A voice Belle could no longer swear was human. “Not yet. You should go before I eat him.”

Gason wasn’t dead? And the thing in the mine with her was going to eat him? “Wait!” Belle thrust a pleading hand into the darkness. “Take me instead!”

In the dim light, she saw the outline of a creature. It stayed in the shadows, but she could make out a head cocking to one side. It was looking at her. 

“You?” the inhuman voice asked “You would… take his place?”

Belle fought to keep the fear out of her voice. “If I did, would you let him go? Could you let him go?”

An appendage came from out of the shadows and prodded at Gaston’s limp body. Then it discarded him, and turned to Belle. She could hear many legs moving in the darkness, coming closer to her. 

“Why?” The creature’s voice was high and low at the same time. It was a chirp with deep and menacing echoes. 

“I can’t go back without him. He’s my responsibility. I have to protect him.”

“You?” it said again. “You so small, so weak? He should protect you.”

“He tried and you see where that got us.” Belle nodded to Gaston’s rifle. It had been knocked out of his hands before they had even seen the creature. 

“So,” it hissed, “to save your male, you would feed me? Let me bite you?”

“You wouldn’t even need to use your venom.” Belle ignored the urge to vomit as she discussed her own slaughter. “I’m small enough that I think you could just eat me. If your physiology is the same as the smaller species in your genus.”

“That’s personal information,” the monster said stiffly. 

“I wouldn’t even fight you, at least I’d try not to. I--” It took a moment for Belle to make sense of what the thing had just said. “Was that a joke?”

“Hmm?”

“W-when I mentioned your genus, you said that was personal. Was that humor?”

It made a sound then, a high-pitched twitter that repeated a few times. After a moment, Belle realized it was laughter. This monster could speak English. It could hold a conversation. It could make a joke. 

This thing in the cave was more intelligent than most of her undergraduates. 

With a bizarre sense of relief--even though the danger was far from over--Belle began to laugh as well. This was just one of those days, wasn’t it? Like her favorite comedian said, adult life is already so goddamned weird, this might as well happen. 

The creature stopped laughing and Belle became aware of it looking at her again. 

“I don’t have to eat,” it said. “Not if other needs are met.”

“Really?” Belle asked. “Will you let us both go? Will you stop killing the sheep?”

“Other needs,” it repeated. “Must be met.”

Belle gulped. “Okay. Um.”

“Pretty human.” Was she nuts or did the creature sound thoughtful? “Pretty human wants her male to go free.”

“Yes,” Belle whispered. “No matter what, don’t eat Gaston.”

“No,” it agreed. “Ugly human stinks. No good for anything.”

“But,” she made herself say it. “You can eat me.”

“Yes,” the creature hissed. “I can. Or.” It didn’t finish the sentence.

“Or?” Belle asked. “Or what?”

“Or you can choose, pretty human.”

Belle’s hands clenched into fists. “Tell me what I can choose.”

“Choose,” it said, “what you will be. Will you be meal? Or.” It waited again, waited an eternity before it gave Belle the second option. “Will you be mate?”

For a very, very long moment, Belle didn’t remember to breathe. She stood in the dark cave, in the beam of her torch, surrounded by golden webs, every bit as paralyzed as Gaston. Her mouth opened and closed. Her lips tried to form words but no sound would come out of them. 

“W-w-what do you mean by ‘mate’?”

The sound the monster made was simultaneously amused and lustful. “Females should be bigger,” it said. “Ten times bigger than males! I should be afraid of you. Instead, you are afraid of me.”

“I am,” Belle admitted. “I’m afraid of things I don’t know, things I don’t understand.” She took a deep breath. “But I’ve found a pretty easy way to get over those fears.”

“Oh?” She could hear the creature scuttling in the darkness. It seemed to be all around her, examining her from every angle. 

“Yes,” she gulped. “Usually, I stop being afraid once I know more about the thing that scares me.”

Research had long been her weapon against a world that didn’t make sense. If she knew enough about a danger, then she knew how to avoid it, or how to survive it. It was an attitude she found common in doctors and economists, and naturalists like herself. All the good ones, anyway. They believed that forewarned is forearmed. 

Of course, the other side of that coin was someone had to have the first-hand experience that went into the books that future generations used for research. It was all well and good to arm yourself with knowledge, but at a certain point, if you were really serious about advancing science, you had to do something no one else had ever done. You had to do the brave thing, even if only so future generations could look at your work and see what not to do.

It was pretty clearly documented what happened to the prey of nephila. Belle herself could confirm the process of paralyzing a victim through venom and wrapping it in silk for later consumption. The creature had already done all of that to Gaston. If she agreed to be the creature’s meal, it would do that to her, and she would also get a first-hand view of its devouring behavior and digestive processes, though any notes she might make on such matters would surely be lost to science forever.

But did anyone know what happened to a human body in the process of arachnid copulation? What could happen, under those circumstances? Science had never found a specimen as large as the one that had made the webs in this cave. Science had never come across an invertebrate that expressed a sexual interest in humans. 

Now, Belle had both.

Besides, she had been hired specifically to find the thing that had been killing the Nolan’s sheep and to get it to stop. This creature seemed to be killing without feeding out of misplaced sexual energy. Surely, the most logical method of saving the sheep was to get the creature to expend that sexual energy. On her.  

This was the discovery of a lifetime. This would provide groundbreaking data for twenty different fields of study. This was literally her job. Who else would ever have this chance? Who else would ever take it? She had to do it. For the sake of the Nolans’ sheep, for the sake of Gaston’s life, for the sake of her own intellectual integrity, she had to fuck this monster.

“Well?” the voice came from the shadows, even more hushed than before. “Choice?”

Belle swallowed. It was one thing to see the rightness in doing something, but it was another thing entirely to actually do it. Besides, there was one more thing she had to know before she gave it her answer. 

“Step into the light.”

It did as she asked. One leg emerged from the shadows, then another, and another. The legs rested on thin points that gradually tapered up to joints and grew thicker from there. From the way it teetered on its points, Belle could tell that this creature didn’t usually stand on the ground. It was a weaver, after all. It was most comfortable in its web. 

The points of the legs were dark brown, but halfway up the colors changed to include a band of yellowish gold before it turned dark again. Every leg had that coloration, it was a sign to evoke fear in potential predators. A warning, that this thing was venomous. 

A warning Belle and Gaston would have done well to heed.

Belle looked up the height of the creature, at the legs that just kept going, until high above her head, she saw the rest of it. It had an oblong abdomen, as long as she was tall. At the cephalothorax, where a regular spider would have had a head, this thing kept going. It looked like it had a waist--not an abdomen, a waist that developed into a chest. It had shoulders and arms and five-fingered hands. It had a neck and a head and a face that looked like a man.

It was grinning at her. 

She had been afraid before, when she hadn’t known the true nature of this beast. Now that she knew, now that she saw it… “afraid” didn’t even begin to describe the feeling.

Black eyes clustered around the creature’s face, two large main eyes and then multiple smaller ones. Intellectually, Belle knew there were six more eyes than she was used to looking at on one face, but right now she was far too overwhelmed to count them. It looked at her, the gleam of her torch reflecting in all of its shiny black eyes.

“Choice?” it repeated. The mouth looked human, but with stubby chelicerae protruding out from the sides like an old-time moustache. That was where the creature had its fangs. “Meal or mate?”

Shaking, Belle took a step closer to it. “Mate.”

Instantly, two legs came from behind her and scooped her up. As she was lifted up into the air, Belle couldn’t fight her body’s instinct to wiggle and squirm. But then, another leg pressed itself onto her chest.

“Stop,” the creature said. “You look yummy when you do that. Remember, you are mate.”

Chest heaving, Belle tried to think. Of course her frantic motions would look like some small animal fighting for its life! She couldn’t act like that, or it might spur on a feeding instinct instead of a sexual one. She had to stay calm. She had to think like a spider.

“What does a mate do?”

The legs that held her lifted her up even higher, setting her in the center of the asymmetrical golden web. The creature let her go and Belle grabbed onto the silk threads, bracing herself for a fall.

But she didn’t fall. Belle looked at her arms and saw that they were sticking to the web, without her having to hold on to anything. About half of the threads were coated with droplets that looked like dew. She could reach one hand out to the droplets, and as soon as she touched them she found that she couldn’t move her hand away from the thread. She was stuck.

In a spirit of having nothing to lose, Belle reached her other hand out to a thread that had no sticky droplets. That one she could touch freely, she could run her hand back and forth over the impossibly thin golden thread. 

She plucked at the thread, like a harp string, and felt the vibrations emanate all around her. The creature was below her, balancing delicately on eight thin legs. It only walked on the threads that had no droplets, safe from the traps it had laid for others. When she touched the thread, it reacted, perking its head up to register the vibrations.

It was coming closer to her, approaching her from below. Black, lifeless eyes looked up at her. Eyes like that shouldn’t be so expressive. Belle shouldn’t have been able to discern curiosity and wonder in eyes that were nothing but eight round voids.

“You are mate,” it whispered. Its strange voice sounded almost awed. “Mate is queen.”

Climbing up the thread on all its legs, the creature came and looked Belle in the face. Even the human parts of him--it, Belle corrected her thoughts, even the parts of the spider that looked like a human--were colored for camouflage on the forest floor. The hands were green-brown and ended in sharp black points that looked like filed fingernails.

He--it--brushed away the strands of hair that had escaped from Belle’s ponytail. It touched her face and cocked its head to look at her. 

“Pretty mate,” it said.

“Thank you,” Belle said. Maybe that was stupid, but good manners never hurt. 

The creature’s skin was mottled into a tortise-shell mixture of green and brown and black, with flecks of iridescent gold shining through. And it was skin, Belle was pretty sure. This wasn’t an exoskeleton. How was it possible that this thing was both an arachnid and a vertebrate?   

He seemed as fascinated with her as she was with him. His hands slowly trailed down from her cheek to her neck. But it got confused when it reached her khaki jacket and the blouse underneath.

“Wrong,” it said. The thing had eight eyes, but only two eyebrows to furrow in confusion. 

“I’m wearing clothes,” Belle explained. “It’s… kind of like fur? That I can take off?”

That did not seem to help him understand. “Wrong,” he said again.

“You know how sheep have that wooly white stuff on the outside? Have you ever seen it come off?”

Realization dawned. All eight eyes widened in delight and his fanged mouth cracked into a smile. “Sheer!” it squeaked. “I can sheer human mate!”

“Gently!” Belle cried before he could get carried away. “Please be careful with me.”

It looked into her eyes and spoke softly in its inhuman voice: “Mate is small. Mate is weak. I will be gentle.” 

Belle swallowed. “Thank you.”

His five-fingered hands were clumsy, but Belle was impressed that he was even trying to undo her buttons. She’d had human dates who would just rip her blouse open when they’d started making out.

 While his hands slowly exposed more of her skin, his pointed legs caressed her body. It was a strange and not entirely pleasant touch--like being softly stroked with a pool cue--but she appreciated the effort. He was being very gentle.

Once he had undone the buttons on her jacket, her blouse, and her khakis, the creature only had to push her sports bra up and her underwear down to get access to everything he wanted. 

It looked her up and down and Belle had never had so many eyes on her body at once.

“Mate,” it whispered. His voice was thick and heavy. “Perfect mate.”

A shiver went up Belle’s spine. God help her, she had never felt so sexy. The mine was surprisingly warm and she felt herself opening up to this creature. She wanted to let him in to her body, and not just for the pursuit of scientific endeavors. Her nipples hardened and she twisted her body on the web, trying to get closer to him.

He saw what she was doing. With his long, thin legs holding him onto the web, the creature drew nearer to Belle. They were face to face, torso to torso. Her legs were spread, she waited for him to mount her or skewer her or rub up against her in an animalistic passion.

But he didn’t.

He touched her face again, gently, all eight of his eyes looking into hers. There was something about him, something about his eyes and his soft touch. He looked at her like he adored her. But how could a spider be capable of adoration? And how could Belle possibly be worthy of it?

With a strong but tender jerk, he pulled her stuck hand away from the web. Her arms were still stuck, they held her up in the middle of these golden threads. But now both her hands were free.

“Thank you,” Belle said.

The creature didn’t say anything. It lowered itself a little, so he was looking up at her again. He raised his chin, exposing his neck in front of Belle’s free hands. A few eyes looked at her expectantly.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Please?” it hissed. “Mate touch?”  

 Belle’s heart fluttered. It sounded so sad. How long had it been alone? There couldn’t be any females of this species. If there were, her creature would have mated already and there would have been spiderlings and in short order the entire continent of Australia (if not the entire world) would have been covered in golden webs and all life would be prey to this apex predator. 

She reached out her open palm to his cheek. With a sigh, he closed most of his eyes and leaned into her touch. His skin was warm and only slightly rough. She touched his cheek, his jaw, but when her fingers brushed against the flesh that sheathed his fangs, he jerked back.

“No!” he said in a fervent whisper. “Not there!”

Belle swallowed. “Does it hurt you?”

“Hurt you!” he said. He tilted his head in the dim light, showing off the venom dripping from his fangs. “Hurt sheep, hurt prey, hurt smelly male human. Not hurt you.” His two largest eyes bore into her. “Never hurt mate!”

Again, Belle felt her soul soften at this gentle monster. He was so intense, so insistent, so aware of his strength and her weakness.

“Do you know what names are?” She wanted to give him something, something more than just the physical release they had initially dealt for.

He cocked his head at her. “Name?”

She nodded. “It’s something you can call me, to separate me from other humans, so you don’t have to keep calling me ‘mate,’ unless you want to.”

“Mate is separate,” he said reverently. “Mate is nothing like other humans. Mate has name?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded. “My name is Belle.”

“Belle,” he said in his strange voice. The multiple tones gave her name a musical quality. It was clear that he had never said the word before, and Belle felt that she had never before heard anyone really say her name. 

She never wanted anyone else to say it again.

“Do you have a name?” she asked him. “Do others of your kind call you anything?”

With a series of strange clicks and grunts, he made a long poly-syllabic sound that started with an R and ended with “in.”

“I don’t think I can say that,” Belle said apologetically. “I’m not as good with my mouth as you are.”

“Belle,” he said again, dismissing her shortcomings in his adoration. “Belle, you are perfect.”

He put his hands on her again, on her neck and her chest. He ran his palms over her breasts and rubbed her nipples with his thumbs. 

Belle moaned and he stopped at once, his black eyes wide.

“No,” she explained. “No, that feels good. I like it when you touch me. I really like it when you touch me there.”  

Nodding slowly, he put his hands on her again. His pointed legs kept him suspended over her on the web. Gently, he trailed his fingers over the curve of her waist, his eyes looking down between her legs. 

“Taste,” he whispered. His largest eyes looked at her face, the rest of them looked down below her waist  “Want to taste.”

“Okay,” Belle said without hesitation. “But what about your venom?”

He was already climbing down the web and he looked up at her as he answered. “Careful!” he said brightly. “Feels good!”

Whenever anybody went down on her, the only thing Belle didn’t like was how she had no idea what was going on. That wasn’t so bad if the person knew what they were doing--if all Belle was aware of was electric bliss then it didn’t matter what technique they were using. But when guys didn’t know what they were doing and all Belle felt was a mildly pleasant warmth, then she would have liked to know what they were trying and hope that they would listen to her suggestions. 

But the spider, the monster with a name she couldn’t pronounce, did not need her help. The shock of his first touch burst up her spine and made her shriek.

“I’m okay!” she cried before he could stop. “That was good!”

“Yes,” he said, lifting his head up from between her legs. “I know. I smell. Belle feels good.”    

Fuck, Belle thought. How did he know what he was doing? How did this animal know how well he was mating her? Just by smell? Just by reading her body and sensing the animal in her? How much of an animal was she that she could accept him into her?

Probing and licking, his tongue explored her everywhere. Belle was so wet she couldn’t feel anything but pleasure, a steadily-mounting glow that rose higher out of her with every move he made. He pressed down against her heat, pushing his face into her, flicking his tongue over and over, everywhere around her cunt. 

“I’m going to orgasm,” she gasped, more as an explanation than anything else. He was working her up so perfectly, but would he know what would come of his efforts? “I’m going to shake and scream, but it’s good. It’s very good. You’re not hurting me. Fuck!” 

The sticky web behind her held her down, kept her from writhing and jerking like she would have if she were free. God, if someone was doing this to her on her bed in her crappy apartment she’d be thrashing on the mattress and covering her mouth with her hand so she wouldn’t wake the neighbors.

But Belle didn’t have to worry about that here. They were in a cavern, kilometers away from any settlements. They only person who could hear her moans and wails was Gaston, and he was still knocked out cold.

She would have to get him to a hospital when this was all over. 

For now, Belle let loose her cries. She shouted and screamed and pressed herself as close as she could to the creature that was dedicating himself to her pleasure. 

He didn’t stop, didn’t seem aware that she had climaxed. He kept his mouth on her--did he even use it to breathe?--and plunged her into another wave of ecstasy. 

Belle whimpered and moaned as a second orgasm built up and then released. Her body hung limp against the sticky threads, but her legs were still open and the spider still had his mouth on her, relentless and hungry.

After her third orgasm in a row, Belle weakly tried to close her legs. She couldn’t even feel her pussy anymore. “Please stop,” she gasped. “Just let me catch my breath.”

The creature pulled away from her with a squelching sound. Ribbons of fluids hung and dripped between their connected bodies. When he looked at her, somehow his eyes seemed even wider and darker than they had been before.

“Belle is pleased?” He rested his hands on her waist.

“Oh God, yes,” she answered. “You were--that was amazing!”

“Belle is happy?”

She looked down at him. Her hands were free enough that she could reach down and touch his face the way he liked so much. His cheeks were moist and sticky and Belle felt her body clench.

“I’m happy,” she said. Why did it matter so much to him? “You made me happy.”

Under her hands, she felt him swallow. “Now,” he gulped. “May I mate with you?”

Belle let out a chuckle and leaned her head against the threads. “Of course! You know, in human mating what you did isn’t even necessary. It’s just polite. Extremely polite to do it three times.” 

He didn’t answer. He crawled up the web to face her, to press his body against hers. One hand touched her face, stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His other hand stayed in the space between their bodies. Belle looked down to see what he was doing, but he tilted her chin up to hold her gaze. 

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered.

“I’m not,” Belle answered. “I’m curious.”

His wide mouth broke into a smile. Now his fangs dripped with more fluids than just venom. The smell of her completion on his face only made her wetter.

She felt his hand against her, felt some strange new wetness sliding against her pleasure. Slowly, the creature pushed his fingers into her cunt.

The fingers didn’t move. He wasn’t, well, fingering her. She couldn’t quite tell what he was doing. She had never been fisted--was that what this was? He was so slow as he entered her. His hand felt so much bigger than any cock she’d ever taken, bigger than even her most adventurous sex toys. Thank God he’d already given her three orgasms!

Belle panted as he pushed himself deeper into her. Her hips rocked with a needful motion. Was he going to thrust? Was he going to fuck her properly or just fill her with his hand?

When she looked at the creature, he had half of his eyes closed in bliss. The other half gazed down at her. “Belle is good?”

“Can you move your arm?” Belle gasped as her body undulated back and forth. “Can you match the way I’m moving?”

It took a moment, but he figured out what she wanted. They rocked together, as tightly joined as any two lovers in the history of the world. Belle’s body shook the entire web and the creature pushed himself against her for stability. She cried and moaned with deep, guttural noises and she had to hastily tell him that this was good, he was good, she was feeling so good.

The orgasm rose out of her belly, deeper and stronger than the three she’d had from his mouth. Vaginal orgasm, Belle thought, categorising the experience even as she lived it. Biologically, she knew, there was no difference between a vaginal orgasm and a clitoral one--but this sure as hell felt different.

She came apart with a mad rush, every inch of her jerking and thrusting against the creature’s hand.  Her body clenched around it with so much force she almost thought she heard a crack. Had she broken his wrist in her passion? It wouldn’t have surprised her. Fuck, but she had never been fucked this well!

The creature moved with her, thrust for thrust and jerk for jerk. He clung to her with one hand and fucked her with the other. He made strange, chittering, animal noises and Belle knew that he was voicing his pleasure. He grunted out his desire, his passion, his burning need that only Belle could satisfy. Pushing into her again and again, the creature trembled and shook on its web, all eyes closed in ecstasy. 

When she couldn’t come anymore, she lay back on the web loosely. The creature delicately pried her away from the sticky golden threads and wrapped her in his arms. Belle sighed and rested in his embrace. Had she ever before felt so exhausted? So sated? So full?

For a while, she dozed in the creature’s arms. He seemed to have no interest in letting her go and she wasn’t exactly ready to walk back to the Jeep. The two of them spoke together, pillow talk without pillows, exchanging questions and compliments, both of them coming down from a wonderful high.

All too soon, another noise entered their conversation--a harsh groan of pain from the cave floor.

“Gaston!” Belle all but leaped away from the creature. How could she have forgotten about Gaston? The venom must be wearing off. He was waking up. He probably still had head trauma. She needed to get him back to the Nolan’s!

Grabbing onto the smooth threads--not the ones covered in a sticky dew that trapped prey--Belle slid down the web and jumped the remaining distance to the ground.

“Could have carried you,” the creature said, still in the center of the web. 

Belle smiled up at him and began to put her clothes to rights. “I’m sorry I have to leave,” she said. “But he really should go to a hospital.”

The creature looked down at Gaston, who was making a valiant effort to roll over in his golden cocoon. “Deal’s a deal,” he shrugged, his arms pulled tightly across his chest. “You may go.” 

“I, uh, I had a good time,” Belle said lamely. 

But the spider was already retreating into the darkness.

She wanted to shout after it, but what could she say? Stay, wait, let’s have dinner? It was ridiculous. She couldn’t pursue a romantic relationship with a spider! Why would she even want to? And she couldn’t even come back to this godforsaken cave for another round of the best sex she’d ever had in her life!

If the only reason it had been attacking sheep was out of misplaced sexual energy, then when Belle had relived that energy, she had negated any possibility of it happening again. The Nolans would be happy, but she would never have a reason to come back here.

And--Belle just now realized--all of her scientific justifications for this little experiment came up to nothing because her results could not be replicated and no one in the scientific community would ever believe her!  

“Fuck!” Belle shouted as she kicked a rock with her hiking boot. What a stupid waste of time! The only thing she gotten from walking into this stupid cave was the ability to walk back out again with stupid Gaston! 

Belle sighed. Right. Gaston. Hospital.

She took out her pocket knife and cut the golden silk away from his body. After she helped him sit up, she rubbed some feeling back into his hands. The bitemarks in his shoulder were the size of American quarters. His skin was cold, maybe numb. Would he be able to walk?

“How you feeling, buddy?”

Her expedition partner rubbed his head. “The hell happened?”

“We found the sheep killer, don’t you remember? It was a giant spider.”

“How big, like a foot?”

Belle laughed. “Close enough. It bit you, and then I picked up the rifle and shot it. The pieces are too small to put into specimen bags, but at least we know it won’t be a problem anymore.”

Gaston nodded, still too zoned out to point out any holes in that story. “Told you,” he slurred a little as he spoke. “Told you it was a good idea to bring a real gun.”

“Yep,” Belle said as she helped him stand. Step by step, she helped him out of the cave. “You really saved the day.”

****

   On the walk back to the Jeep and the drive back to camp, Belle was able to refine her story. The caves held nothing new, no groundbreaking discoveries in biology. Just a larger-than-average golden orb weaver that had been biting local sheep and injecting them with venom. Belle told the Nolans that the thing probably hadn’t even known what to do with prey that large. But the most important part was that it wouldn’t bother anyone again. 

She tried to apply that mentality to her own experiences in the cave. It had happened, but it wasn’t that big a deal. It wasn’t going to change her life. As soon as she got back to the station, she had taken the longest, hottest shower of her life. Warm water ran over her and she tried her best to wash away the memory of the creature. 

A few days later she was back in the states, lecturing to dead-eyed teenagers and expanding her knowledge in the library instead of on the field. She tried to focus on her research, tried not to think of it as a cop-out that she was back inside, reading about other people’s adventures instead of having one of her own. 

Belle found herself getting restless and moody, snapping at her undergrads and crying at commercials on TV. It was mid-October and everywhere she went there were Halloween decorations. Every cartoon spider and every fake web stuck out to Belle, leaving her in a curious emotional state, a mixture of depression and horniness.

“Honestly, Ruby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Belle said one night when she’d been so distraught she’d actually picked up the phone to call her best friend. “I’ve never felt this weird before in my life.”

“Are you sure it’s not just PMS?” Ruby said over the sound of club music. “When are you gonna start your period?”

“Oh my God, Rubes! That’s it!” Belle fumbled in her purse for her day planner. “I’m supposed to have my period…” She didn’t finish the sentence. 

Her last period had been in August. She was more than a month late. 

“Oh my God, Rubes,” Belle said, in an entirely different tone than the last time she had said it. “I have to go back to Austraila.”

“The fuck for?” Ruby shouted into the phone. 

Belle found herself staring at a blank space in the middle distance. She hardly believed herself as she said the words:

“I think I’m pregnant.”                

[trvelyans-archive]

There’s a woman at the end of the bar who won’t stop staring at Arthur.

At first, he thought maybe Colm sent her, but she doesn’t look like his type of woman. She’s a little too American for that bastard’s tastes. Then Arthur thought that maybe the bartender called her over to keep an eye on him, which he couldn’t blame the man for, really, considering the trouble he’s caused here lately. But it doesn’t seem like she’s watchin’ him for either of those reasons, really. If she was, she probably woulda made some sort of move sooner. She’s just… sittin’ there, with her eyes trained on him like he’s a Goddamn Christmas hog she’s gonna shoot and cook for dinner.

She’s pretty, too. He doesn’t much like that.

He downs his finger of whiskey with his left hand, his right hovering against the gun in his holster. (It’s a new one – pulled it off the body of some O’Driscoll he shot dead in the middle of the Heartlands the other night.) Not that he thinks she’s gonna shoot his head off, mind you, but it never hurts to be prepared around these parts, especially when he’s a couple of drinks into his evening already. It’s not doin’ much to help his pounding headache – being around that jackass Micah Bell for too long would do that to a man – but he’d rather sit here by his lonesome and wallow in his pain for a little while than be back at camp arguing with Dutch about… well, he’s sure they’d find something.

Seems all they do nowadays is argue. Or talk in a way that makes them feel like they’re not arguing when they really are.

He lowers his face to the tabletop, examining the cigarette cards he’s laid out to take a good look at, but out of the corner of his eye he can still see that woman watching him. She looks about twenty-five – might look older if he saw her in the sun when he was sober – and she has warm brown hair pulled into two braids on either side of her head, messy like she’d done them herself without a mirror (which he knows very well to be difficult, because Mary-Beth complains about it often when she begs Arthur to let her use his). She’s pale, too, with a face full of freckles and a handful of moles, and she’s got dark eyes like bullet holes, still pointed in his direction.

When she raises her arm, he half expects to hear a gunshot ring through the air, but she just gestures her cup towards him and takes a sip.

That’s when he realizes he’s been lookin’ too long, and perhaps that he’s drunk much more than he thought he did.

Unfortunately for him, even after shaking his head and forcing his attention back to the cards on the table, it’s only a couple seconds ‘til the seat across from him is pulled out and the woman sits down across from him. “Thought maybe you didn’t see me,” she says, placing her cup – empty – in front of his cards.

“Hard not to,” he replies, forcing himself not to meet her eyes. “Can’t quite ignore you when you’ve spent the past hour starin’ at me.”

“So you noticed.” She smiles. “Why didn’t’cha come up and say anythin’?” she asks, leaning forward to make sure he can see her.

He does lift his head up at that, though. “I, uh… didn’t think that’s what you’d wanted,” he replies, clearing his throat and reaching forward to grab one of the cards between two of his fingers, flipping it over to take a look at the writing on the back. “Thought maybe you were just waitin’ for me to cause some trouble and kick me out, and I didn’t intend on causin’ any sort of trouble tonight.”

“Mmm… A shame, that.”

He holds the card up higher, hoping it might hide some of the newfound heat rising on his cheeks.

“I’m Mabel.” She holds her right hand out to him from across the table, forcing him to put the card down so he can see her still smiling the same darlin’ smile. “Mabel Olsen. And your name is…”

“Arthur,” he replies before he can think better of it. “Arthur Morgan.”

“Arthur Morgan.” She clicks her tongue against the top of her teeth like she’s tasting the sound of his name in her mouth. “I like it.”

“Well, thank you,” he replies. “Can’t quite take all the credit for it, though.”

She laughs, leaning back in her chair and glancing around the room. Up close she looks just about the same as she did from the bar, but now he notices a couple of scars littered across her hands and shoulders, and her voice sounds much deeper than he thought it would. So she’s definitely older than twenty – twenty-five still seems like a good guess.

She’s definitely not as old as he is.

“What’re you doin’ in town tonight, Arthur Morgan?”

Hopefully nothing, he wants to say. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks, after all – months, even, when he thinks about it. First, having to ride out of Blackwater with the whole gang after the ferry job went wrong, then hidin’ out in the mountains and freezing half to death every night, and now, after meeting those jackasses Milton and what’s-his-name when he was out with fishing with Jack last week, it seems like Arthur can’t quite catch a break at all nowadays without someone shooting at him or yelling at him to clean up someone else’s mess every hour or so.

He can’t tell her any of that, though. He doesn’t want to scare her off, even if she is interrupting his carefully made plans for a boring evening. Might be nice to keep her around and talk to her for a little while.

So, instead, he flattens one of his hands against the table, fiddling with his belt buckle underneath the table with the other. “Drinkin’,” he replies. “Lookin’ at these. You?”

“Drinkin’,” she responded. “Lookin’ at you.”

He’s lucky he finished his last drink before she came over. If he had been drinking when she said that, he would’ve choked on his whiskey. Even now, he just about chokes on thin air.

“What’s so special about these?” she questions suddenly, pushing herself up from her chair and bracing one of her arms against the table to lean on it. “Aren’t these just cigarette cards?”

“Well, yes, but…” He clears his throat, scrubbing a hand against his beard. “I like collectin’ them, I guess.”

She doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds. When she does, her voice is much quieter. “Used to know someone who liked collectin’ ‘em, too.” And then she smiles at him again. “He liked the famous gunslinger ones, though he couldn’t’a been less of a gunslinger himself if he tried. Which ones do you like?”

Arthur thinks about it for a moment. “I like the ones with all the animals on them,” he says, grabbing one and pushing it towards her. “And the horses.”

“The horses,” she repeats, then cocks her head at him and squints like she’s giving him a thorough inspections. “Are you a cowboy, Arthur Morgan?”

“You could say that,” he responds, finally smiling back at her.

“Do you collect anything else?”

He inhales deeply, pursing his lips as he thinks. “Don’t know if I mean to so much as I end up doing it accidentally,” he answers. His bag is full of little bits and pieces of things he picks up – feels like he can’t walk two steps without finding something that catches his eye. “But sure, I collect plenty of things. And I have a journal, too.”

He didn’t mean to say that – he normally doesn’t like to talk about his journal with people, because then they always ask to see it, and it’s much more boring and personal than they think it’s going to be if he does show them or they get offended when he doesn’t. “A journal,” she echoes. “’s funny. You look like some rough-and-tumble outlaw, but you got a soft side to you. I can tell already, if you collectin’ cigarette cards and writin’ in a journal wasn’t enough.”

“I guess,” he grumbles good-naturedly, lowering his head to look at his cards again. “Do you collect anything, Miss Olsen?”

She laughs. “Oh, don’t call me that, Arthur,” she says. “My mother would never stop rollin’ in her grave if you did. Mabel is fine. And no, I don’t. Don’t see much point in it.”

“Guess that’s true.”

“Might change my mind now, though.”

He clears his throat and forces himself to look around, to look at anywhere that isn’t her smiling face.

The bar is nowhere near full, even at this time of night in this nice weather. (Though maybe that’s why – some of the folk in Valentine might be out enjoyin’ it.) Mabel’s old seat near the bartender is still empty. She could go back to it, if she wanted to, or move to a table to talk to someone else, but she doesn’t. Instead she keeps sitting across from him, watching him, running a finger around the rim of her glass with the tip of her tongue sticking out between her bared teeth, like a wolf waiting to pounce.

“So what made you come over here?” he asks eventually, letting himself look at her again.

She shrugs. “Thought you looked interestin’,” she answers, “and you certainly are. Although I like just about any man that doesn’t offer to fuck me before he even buys me a God damn drink.”

Arthur clenches his jaw. He doesn’t know what to say to that, but now his mind is definitely beginning to fill with somewhat indecent thoughts he’d rather not dwell on.

“And I thought it’d be nice to talk to someone. Thought you’d actually want to talk to me.”

He frowns. “What’s that mean?”

She shrugs again. “Don’t quite know,” she says. “Just… thought we’d get along. Most people don’t like talkin’ to me after a little while, probably ‘cuz I like being a pain in the ass.”

He didn’t consider her to be a pain in the ass at all, and if there’s something that Arthur Morgan hates more than suckin’ snake venom out of another man’s leg and runnin’ out of bullets in the middle of a gunfight, it’s people – like God damn Micah Bell - who are a pain in the ass. So he chuckles, hopin’ it might make her feel better. “Believe me, I’ve talked to much worse.”

Mabel smiles back, to no surprise, but she seems to stiffen a little as he watches her. “Anyway, if you’re askin’ because you want me to leave you alone –“

“Hey, now, did I say that?”

That gives her pause. “No, I guess I just…” She purses her lips. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?” she finally says.

“Can’t much say the same for you,” he teases.

“Chicken shit.” She grins at him. “Now who’s being a pain in the ass? You stay here, file all your little cigarette cards away in your bag next to your... I dunno... hairbrush and mirror and hair pomade, and I’ll go get us some more drinks. You look like a whiskey man, Arthur. Are you a whiskey man?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Hang on, I can pay –“

Before he can finish, she pulls a heavy sack of what he assumes to be money from her bag and hefts it onto the table, where it lands with a loud thud. “Please,” she says, “let me.”

Arthur stares at it for a second and then looks up at her. “Maybe you are full of surprises.”

“Oh, I certainly am.” She stands up and rifles through the bag, completely ignoring the other patrons in the bar staring at them as she pulls a couple of bills from a stack. “Get a few more drinks in me and I’ll have even more surprises to show you, then.”

Before she heads off to the bar, she looks over her shoulder and gives him a playful wink that just about knocks the air out of his lungs, and all of a sudden Arthur is very, very glad that he isn’t going to have a boring night.

[ad1thi]

the second (love of his life)

the title is deliberately obtuse cuz why not?

--

all credits for this idea goes to  @winteriron-trash��; i’m lucky she’s letting me play around with it

--

based on this post: [x]

--

It was in times like this, Bucky mused as he slashed his blade against yet another HYDRA head, that he really resented his father’s choice to make him the God of Fertility

Love was fine

Bucky loved Love

He loved resting his rifle against his shoulder, and carefully aiming his bullet at his chosen target, watching their lives move and shift in immense ways to accommodate the flutter in their heart

Granted, he wasn’t always successful (he didn’t care what Steve said, Helen of Troy was a clusterfuck of epic proportions) but he liked to think he had it down quite well

Plus he got it, being so swept up in his emotions that nothing and nobody else mattered (fucking Adonis and his blue eyes)

He was in love with God of War, Steve after all

--

It happened, as most things do, with a love affair

Bucky was particularly bored one day (Steve was off making some war happen down on Earth) and he decided it would be fun to create some drama

He cocked his rifle, and scoured Earth until he found a particularly drab German officer who looked like he could do with a little colour in his life, aimed, and shot

He watched the ripples of his effect, immediately; how Joann Schmidt rallied troops around him and lead this brilliant rebellion right under Adolf’s nose, all in the name of wooing Adolf’s wife

Honestly, he was having such a swell time watching the whole thing unfold, plus it had made the war much more interesting (which meant Steve would be happy); that he missed all the indicators that Joann was a demi-god (one of Steve’s; because the Fates hated him) and he completely missed the ambush

Joann captured and sedated him before Bucky could even open his mouth, and chained him to the wall

Apparently Eva Braun was infertile, and Joann wanted his help to fix the situation

Bucky refused, as one does when they’re trying to avoid the wrath of their Mother (Winfred would kill him if she found out he’d been meddling with humans again after Troy) 

Which is how he found himself fighting a damned Hydra, pulled from the depths of Hel itself- with the sole purpose of wearing Bucky down so he would give in

--

He’d been fighting the Hydra for 31 days and nights before he started to feel the fatigue of the fight wear him down. He was the God of Love and Fertility, not the God of fighting. While Steve had taught him a considerable amount of manoeuvres, he simply didn’t have the stamina for it

He fell to his knees, avoiding a particularly vicious snap from the Hydra, when his vision started swimming and he felt himself going under.

The last thing he saw before he collapsed, was the bright light of an explosion. 

--

He wakes up to someone lightly slapping his face, and the wind against his skin

“Steve?” he garbles as he blinks to adjust himself to the light, and feels the figure next to him move back like they were burned

He pushes himself up on his elbows to see who it is if not Steve, and his eyes widen when he takes in the hesitant figure of -

“My lord,” he says, scrambling to get on his knees-

his husband. 

“Tony is fine,” he says, before moving slightly to grab gauzes, “For your wounds” he gestures for Bucky to lift his arm so he can wrap them

Bucky moves to make space for him, allowing him to wrap his right arm with the gauze, ‘I apologize my lor- Tony. I thought you were..” Bucky trails off; unsure if he should bring Steve up

“You thought I was your lover Steve,”Tony finishes, eyes trained on Bucky’s hand, “It’s alright I understand. But Steve is too busy facilitating the whims of his son Joann, and I wasn’t going to leave you to die”

“How did you -”

“Rhodey is a good friend of mine. He mentioned that a Hydra was missing from his collection, and Steve has been particularly upset that Joann has stopped his mission of carnage in his cure for his lover’s sterility”

Tony shrugs, squeezing Bucky’s hand lightly when he winces at the mention of Joann, “It wasn’t too hard to put it all together after that”

Tony moves to cup Bucky’s cheek, but freezes in the middle of the action, “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you”

--

It isn’t that Tony isn’t attractive, Bucky thinks as he watches his husband putter around this, vehicle that he’s made specially to transport Bucky away from Joann

Tony has always been the most attractive of them all, Bucky can securely admit to that.

Everyone has always held a torch for Tony, Steve and Bucky included

There have been many a time when Steve had seen Tony come out of his workshop, clothes half incinerated and hanging off him and it’s gotten him so worked up that he fucks Bucky almost angrily

It’s that Tony is small

After a particularly bad accident in the workshop, Tony’s growth was stunted and he’s considerably smaller than all of the other Gods, barely coming up-to Bucky’s shoulders

Bucky was young and rebellious and he resented being married to the deformed God

and Tony?

Tony had a reputation by then. Everybody held a torch for the guy, and everybody was indulged

Bucky looked into his honey-trap eyes on their wedding night, and decided that it was entirely too absurd for the God of Love to get his heart broken by the God of Metal, and it was unacceptable for him to be just another notch on Tony’s shoulder

So he pushed Tony off from where he was straddling Bucky’s hips and pressing insistent kisses against his neck and said under no uncertain terms that Bucky was Steve’s

and that was the end of it

--

They’re 2 days into their voyage back to Olympus when Bucky finally asks, “Why did you come for me?”

Tony looks up from where he was building some gizmo to help Bucky with his left arm while it was recovering from Hydra venom

“Would you rather I hadn’t come from you?” Bucky searches his eyes for a few seconds, but there’s only amusement and curiosity

“No I’m extremely grateful, I just don’t understand why”

“You are my husband,”Tony says simply before returning to the gizmo in his hand, like Bucky hadn’t pushed him away on their wedding night, like this wasn’t their first meaningful conversation in 1000 years of marriage, like Bucky hadn’t been screwing Steve on the side

“No thats not -” Bucky grabs Tony’s hands, making him look up sharply, “I appreciate it. Don’t get me wrong. But our marriage is a sham, it always has been. We’ve never even consummated it -”

“- we can change that now if you want -”

Bucky continues as if Tony hadn’t spoken, despite the heat that rushed through him from those words “- and yet you come and save me from one of Hel’s most feared creatures. Why?”

Tony tugs softly, and Bucky releases his hands sheepishly, “I told you, you are my husband. That doesn’t change because you are sleeping with Steve. I knew that before we got married. But you are my husband and I owe you a duty of care and protection, and so I will save you from all of Hel’s creatures if I must”

He takes in a breath, “But that really shouldn’t be necessary, because like I told you-Rhodey is a good friend of mine and his pets generally like me”

“I’ve been told on good authority that they find me too cute to hurt”

--

"Did he notice I was gone?” Bucky says apropos of nothing, and Tony stills from where he’s been feeding Bucky the grub of the day

Despite Tony’s best efforts, Bucky’s left arm isn’t salvageable, and short of having Clint himself here, there’s nothing to be done

(that isn’t to say that Tony didn’t try to contact Clint, aimlessly throwing bits at the sun like it would catch his attention, but they both knew it was in vain)

“He did,” Tony says hesitantly, “but he was just so caught up in his son that he probably lost track of mine”

“Did you know that it was his son that chained me up and fed me to the Hydra?”

“Yes, I did”

“And Steve,” Bucky pauses like he can’t process the words coming out of his mouth, “and Steve still feeds into his son’s fancies?”

“You understand what it’s like when one of our children do well,” Tony rushes to explain, and Bucky is at a loss for why his husband is supporting his lover, “he must’ve just gotten caught up”

“I’m sure that he meant nothing by it”

“Why are you defending him?” Bucky says angrily, pushing the bowl out of Tony’s hands when he shakes, “I have been cheating on you for 1000 years with him, why are you defending him?”

“You are my husband,” Tony says, cleaning up the mess without compliant, “and I owe you a duty of care and prot -”

“You keep saying that but it explains nothing!” Bucky cuts him off and he’s on his feet now, pacing like a caged animal

“Our marriage is a sham, it has always been a sham, so why do you suddenly care if I live or die?”

“You save me from the Hydra in the name of our marriage,” Bucky’s furious now; even if he isn’t sure why, “You, you defend Steve in the name of a marriage that doesn’t exist!!”

“These are the first days that we’ve spent together in 1000 years and I just, I don’t understand why you go on and on about a marriage that’s been broken since before it commenced!!”

Tony is, there’s no other word for it, he’s vibrating from where he’s bent down on his knees, and there’s a fire in his eyes that Bucky’s never seen before

“You would do well to remember husband,” he says it like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, “that I was not the one to push you away on our wedding night. The only person who believes that this marriage is a sham is you”

“I will uphold the institution of the marriage as is my responsibility and duty as your husband, as I have for 1000 years. You may believe that this marriage isn’ worth a second of your time, as is your right- but do not presume to understand my feelings”

Bucky always forgets that Tony is the most influential God in Olympus, but its impossible to ignore when all that fierceness is directed at him

“Your choice in this marriage was always Steve; one that I have respected. It is only fair that you respect that my choice was you”

He stands up abruptly, and Bucky feels like he’s been punched in the gut, “we land in Hel in a day’s time- where we will stop and rest for 2 weeks. After those 2 weeks, it is up to you whether you wish to accompany me on the way back to Olympus”

and he walks away, leaving Bucky with the feeling that he’s lost something he never even knew he had

--

Fin

--

tagging: @im-ironman, @lovingtony3000, @imposter-human and @tinystankdefencesquad who gave me inspiration to complete and post this 

--

i do intend for there to be other parts to this, but i have no idea when they’ll go up

[bumblesimagines]

Rewatching Breaking Dawn

Red

I don't get- monologue lmao

Rain

Oop angry Jake

Billy get back inside before you catch a cold

Poor Charlie

Yikes heels

Lmao Alice

OwO Rosalie

Edward

Can't she wear flats?

Why is there random paintings/pictures of animals in her room?

Lmaoo what if Ed was like "lmao oops yeah, I'm not a virgin my bad"

I forgot about that part of Edwards past but at least he did it to bad guys

Are his eyes brown?? uGH

Bell is such a good girlfriend, thirsty but a great girlfriend

Wtf was that Emmett?? He did like a squat against her house lmao

Jasper and his constantly changing hair lmao

We should've had more of the brothers being brothers

She's finna sleep in that??

Ugly wedding dream dress

It'd be a lit ass wedding lmao

Rosalie 💕💕

Charlie lmao

Her mom is so sweet

Charlie with his something old besides your mother lmaooo

Rosalie did that hairstyle super fucking quick

The wedding place is pretty

Tbh same Mike/Ned/Nate. The girls from Alaska are gorgeous

Was... Was.. The girl with glasses checking them out while biting her lip??

Watch out for the front of the dress, you step on that and faceplant

Pretty dress

She seems terrified instead of nervous or excited

I hope they didn't rent the dress cuz that shit is gonna get dirty

Who are all these people? The Cullens never get out and Bell's family can't be that huge unless those are vampire cousins

Weddings are super fucking long

Esme and Carlisle uwu

I love the cakeee

sETH

bILLY

Sue and Charlie lmao

I love the Alaskan cousins 💕💕

Omfg imagine if Seth imprinted on one

The person who whistled at Emmett lmao

Emmett's joke and Charlie's face

Out of everyone's speech I love Charlies and Esme speech the most

The dancing omfg

Bell crying

Her fucking dress is gonna be so dirty

Everyone does cries at weddings, everyone balled at my cousins wedding

Jake don't ruin it

She's that stupid lol

Jake don't be a dick

Baby Seth

Sam has a point

Sethhhh

Lmao imagine he murders her like that's the big plan

Charlie lmao

Cute father-daughter moment

Bet they kicked everyone out after they left

Wolf howl

Brazill

I love places where everyone is seen as family and they party all the time

Edward driving a boat was something I was not expecting

thEY HAVE THEIR OWN ISLAND?? HOW FUCKING RICH ARE THEY???

I would love to live there

Human minutes lmao

Wtf does she have in that bag

Lmao that whole scene is funny

"Don't be a coward"

Is he just standing there??? Not doing anything?? No splashing around??? Lmao what??

Ew love

Are they actively trying for a child??

Lmao the feathers- the bROKEN BED

This song is *chefs kiss*

Oof lmao those bruises look tough

She ain't even notice them bro

"Or was five seconds ago" lmao

Let's stop talking about that pls

Boring ass honeymoon with chess...

That looks terrible but aye more power to ya Bell

That looks dangerous

Chess again??

Him tucking her in was cute tho

She's so aggressive with the whole chess thing

And she's so thirsty

Tripped and fell off a cliff lmao

Sam is a good guy

Jake is such a bore

Do they shun everyone without imprints?? All the ones without imprints are far away fron the ones with imprints lmao

Leah has a point

They look shook

Poor housekeepers

Interesting breakfast

A) periods can be late. Mine are always late B) you're as skinny as a stick C) Ed is supposed to be dead sis. As in, his bodily fluids shouldn't be working

Vampire shock lmao

Lmao she pulls out a knife and just stabs her "problem solved"

"That thing" omg damn

The contrast when they arrived vs when they left oml

She turned on her phone and it just.. Instantly called

Rosalieeeee

Wolf dramaaa

"Is it true?" "How are ya?"

Rosalie being protective is so uwu

She looks dead

Oof oof oof pregnant belly

Is it a good idea for them to be talking in private

The real villian is Jake lmao

It's eating you alive, Bell. It's not a miracle

You look half dead already Bell

Pull the puppy eyes Jake

Omg he did lmao

"I'm not sticking around to watch" he stuck around anyways

The scene with the wolves howling and all the voices is so good I wish we would've gotten more

I love Seth

Seth and Jake are such cute bros

"I'll shut up! Can do."

Leah and Seth are so cute

Leah and Jake could've been a couple.

He's such a dick to her nvm

Leah awee she looked so happy to have Jake accept her

Esme feeding them is so cute

His voice sounded different when he said "we were supposed to be partners"

It's not even fully developed lmao

Don't lie, it taste like shit

Poor Charlie

ITS NOT EVEN FULLY FUCKING DEVELOPED EDWARD

This movie is on crack

Or maybe this is a fever dream

Jake trying to be heroic and shit

Paulllll

Paul 💕💕

Oop traitor

Distractionnn

Horrible baby names

EJ is such an ugly name

Oof that sucks

I felt that back pain

Poor Rosalie

I think this is what traumatized me about giving birth lmao

Oop she ded

Rosalie don't give a fuck about Bella

Jake cryinggg

Random wolf

The fucking voom in on her dead face as Ed bit her lmao

The fuck going on??

Rosalie being an aunt awe

Jared looking mighty fine

Rosalieeee awee

That fucking baby

Oh no..

I mean they can't even fit into the house

Sigh.

They just did the imprinting thing to make Jake look like the good guy again

Listen to her heart?? Vampires? Oh.. Newborns still have human blood in them lmao

Apparently vampire venom gives you makeup

The fucking piano

A littel recap nice

The fuck is the song for the credits??

Breaking Dawn p2

Lots of red.

Making it look like a horror movie with this intro credits scene

fUCK that piano

So fucking long omg

FINALLY

When did she sit up?

Okay

Whatever

Lmao vampire Bell should've yeeted Ed

She suddenly feels thirsty

Is my mans climbing a mountain without gear???

Poor puma

Yeah yeah Bella's cool or whateve

Oop

Disgust lmao

oh my god CGI BABY LMAO I THOUGHT IN P2 THEY HAD A REAL ONE

Rosalie and Emmett lmao I love them

'Oh.. oh"

Oop ouch

Nessie

Lmao

Sethhhh nuuu

No it wasn't

Rosalieee

A nice little place that they'll never use

Gross

That ring needs to go

Rosalieeeee

You know what? Rosalie, Emmett, and Jake as a couple

Emmett lmao

Someone could've told Charlie he's super chill

Chopping wood pretty far off

Charlie probably thought Jake was seducing him

Edward stfu for once

Lmao she deadass could just breathe on command she doesn't have to move her shoulders

Carlisle and Charlie probably banged once lmao

He really does need an explanation

Wtf is she wearing?

Cgi baby bro

Emmett and Bell are now chaotic twins

Jake and Sam.

Cgi child

Oop

No she won't lmao

Snitchhhhh

They really hate the Cullens lmao

Wow... Someone playing the piano...

Oof the cgi

Emmett in a turtleneck lmao

Esme and Carlisle

Alaskan cousinsss

Ew Jake no

BENJAMIN YESS

Ben and Jake should've been a couple

Yesss the amazon vampsss

Aye Garrett

Eighteen hm

Omg the stumbling pups lmao

Is that Mickey? Wait a minute

Benjaminnnnn

"That didn't take much" lmao

Alec got a haircut

Lmao I love the Alaskan cousins

Lmao Emmett and Garett are such bros

I love Kate

Jake and Bella bonding awe

Sue and Charlie

Oop passports

Kate and Garrett

Interesting handwriting

Giant... Scissors.. Lit

Why bother wearing contacts when Charlieand Sue already saw you with gold eyes??

Mhm super pretty cause he's her uncle not her imprinter

Jake had a massive crush on Ben

The vamps bonding is cute

Tbh Jake would've been cute with Tanya or Ben

The war with the smallest group of fighters

Wolvesss

The shots zoomed out make it so funny cuz they look like ants

Did Aro see them fuck??

Rosalie, Emmett, and Jake as mates someone write about them

Aro's giggle/laugh oof

Nessie is so pretty

Impossible lmao

Oop she ded

Oop

Aro you a bitch

And anyways I'm out ✌✌