#how dare he kill my papa don

[pink-anonymous-person]

me playing pacifist route, reject everyone except for YB and trying to save our friends lives but Don keeps dying in my playthrough

#ugh i wanna toss him into a ditch #how dare he kill my papa don #warning spoiler!!! #spoiler: ​playing the new update and i got the die in the forest ending :[ umm #< ​this happens in rejection route #i enjoy this one because i love it when y/n be like ‘imma gonna fight him and escape’ #and yb be like ‘lol nope im just gonna outsmart u till u love me’ #trying to be sneaky by putting sleeping pills in his food behind his back but yb be like ‘ah the food is too hot hereu can have it instead’ #ok now back to ranting #i can’t even load the game and it doesn’t help at all!!!!!!! #i’m suffering through every millisecond of any scene and dialogue i’m forced to replay #i did save our friends and yb killed the customer in my playthrough before but i dislike how bitchy that y/n is #i just want my y/n to be sweet and saves everyone life but nooooo one of them gotta die 🫥 #i think my eyes are burning from looking at the screen for too long #pink.anony.textpost

[lullabytaeyong]

Creepy Crawlies - R!Kai

(Tw: Spiders) And I know they aren’t technically bugs but I still call them that in this lol

Kai giggled contently in the bathtub, a red bath crayon in his hand and bubbles surrounding him. He dragged the crayon in crazy scribbles all over one of his drawings since he knew it had to be rinsed away soon. Soobin watched him with amused smirk on his face while he waited for the water to drain. Once it did he used the shower head to wash away the left over bubbles on Kai's skin and the artwork he made. He wrapped him up in a fluffy towel and ruffled his hair wildly with it to make him laugh.

"Okay, jammie time. Arms up!" Soobin said brightly after drying him off completely. He knelt down and helped him with his pants and dinosaur socks.

"There you go. Do you want to watch a movie be-"

"Ahhhh!!" Kai suddenly cried in Soobin's face, pointing over his shoulder. "Spider!"

Kai burst into tears and tried to climb on to Soobin's lap in a panic. He hated bugs! They scared him to death when he was little. Soobin stood up quickly and sat Kai back on the floor. He spun around frantically, searching for something to get rid of it with. He snatched a tissue box and spotted the spider on the floor.

"Nooo!! Don't kill it!" Kai wailed, flailing his arms.

"What do you mean? I thought you wanted it gone?"

"Gone gone! Don' hurt him! Will feel bad!"

"Okay, okay" Soobin said semi calmly over the loud cries. He dropped the tissue box and turned around, leaving to get a cup and piece of paper.

Huening kai couldn't help but stare down the vile creature. He hated it! He was so scared! But, if he didn't keep an eye on it he could lose it and it could come back to terrorize him. Tears kept falling down his pink cheeks, as he waited for Soobin's return. The spider crawled an inch in Kai's direction and he shrieked loudly. He pushed him self harder against the tiled wall, as if it could swallow him whole and keep him safe from the little beast.

Soobin sprinted back into the bathroom and immediately trapped the spider under a white cup. He approached Kai before actually catching it to calm him down. The boy was in hysterics, sobbing and squirming. Soobin hushed him and pulled him into his arms while he sat on the floor.

"It's okay, baby. Shhh, I'm taking care of it."

Sometimes the boys forgot how intense Kai's phobia of spiders truly was. He was usually alright with tiny ones, just some shivers and whining here and there, but there were specific ones that had a specific look to them that sent him into a fit of tears. Apparently, one of those kinds of spiders decided to tour their bathroom today.

"It's under a cup right now, so it won't get to you. I promise. It's alright, sweetheart." Kai had his eyes tightly squeezed shut and didn't dare to take a peek. His anxiety was pouring intrusive thoughts into his head about being covered with the bugs. He cried harder into Soobin's chest and begged him to get him out of there. He knew it was still close, the cup being over it didn't make it disappear; he knew that.

"Wan' go to Junnie! Want Papa! Please!" He hiccuped. Soobin acted instantly and carried Kai swiftly out of the bathroom and across the hall to Yeonjun's room. The eldest wasn't actually there, he was in some other room with headphones on, so Soobin texted him.

"Okay, you sit here all nice and comfy and I'll go get rid of the 'you know what' while you wait for your Papa. Okay?" Soobin said after plopping Kai on the mattress.

The youngest nodded hesitantly and watched Soobin re-enter the bathroom. Soobin crouched down to the floor and carefully slid the paper under the cup. Then he slowly picked it up, keeping the spider trapped inside and made his way to the door. Yeonjun skidded past him and ran up to Kai, nearly tackling him in a hug.

"How dare that stupid spider scare my baby Kai like that! I'll beat him up! Don't worry, I won't let him get you." Yeonjun said dramatically, wrapping Huening Kai up in a blanket like a sushi roll.

Kai used the blanket to wipe away the snot and tears covering his face and whimpered against Yeonjun. He felt two strong arms adjust him, so he was on Yeonjun's lap facing him comfortably. The eldests shoulder was a safe place to cry on.

"Hate em. This is our house not theirs!" He pouted.

"I know. They scare you quite a bit, yet you insist that we don't just kill them." Yeonjun replied, holding back a chuckle at how cute Kai was.

"Mh- But they dunno! Don't wanna em to hurt. It's not fair."

"Each day I am more convinced that you are secretly an angel, huening kai." Yeonjun smiled brightly and kissed his baby's head.

"Mission accomplished! Extermination complete." Soobin popped up in the door with a proud smile.

"How's he doing?" He asked, quiet enough for just Yeonjun to hear.

"We're getting there, expressing our hatred for spiders, questioning our morality. He'll be okay in a few." Yeonjun chuckled, rubbing Kai's back comfortingly.

Soobin nodded and moved into the room to take a seat next to them on the bed. Kai curiously lifted his head and looked at Soobin. Although glossy, his eyes were warm with innocence, like hot chocolate. He sniffled his last sniffle and wiggled to get off Yeonjun. They watched him stand up nervously, inspecting the floor and scanning the walls and ceiling with his eyes. He didn't move much, just the occasional random step.

"What're you doing, angel?" Soobin asked.

"Jus' making sure." Huening kai almost whispered. "I wanna go to bed but had to check for spiders"

"Ohh, okay. I don't see anything and if I do I'll take it outside immediately. Come lay down." Yeonjun said, hoping his words would soothe the little's worries.

"We can have a sleepover tonight." He added. Kai giggled and crawled back on Yeonjun's bed, nestling himself into the blankets and pillows.

"I'll go get Goguma, hang tight." Yeonjun said before getting up and leaving.

Kai pulled on Soobin's arm to get him to lay down and cuddled up to his side like a little kitten. He loved the warmth that came with close cuddles. Soobin pat his hair and used his phone to play the little ones lullaby playlist. The familiarity and somewhat nostalgic melodie's always soothed the boys and helped them sleep. Yeonjun returned with Kai's beloved bunny plush and made the toy give him kisses before laying down. He left on a small lamp, so it wasn't too dark, and let Kai get comfortable between him and Soobin.

"Promise no more buggies..." Kai asked softly with round eyes.

"Promise! We'll protect you, baby."

They both hooked their pinkies on each of Kai's and give them a kiss to seal the promise. Finally, the boy was able to fully relax and drift off to sleep.

#kpop agere #agere community #little txt #age regression #txt agere #txt littlespace #kpop littlespace #sfw agere #little tomorrowxtogether #little huening kai #regressor huening kai #caregiver soobin #caregiver yeonjun

[andywinter16]

FFXV: Comrades headcannons +OC part 1

 You know like in the game you can play with AI. So I made little headcannons  with them :) Hope you will like it! Feel free to add your characters too!

Libertus Ostium: Captain  Connoisseur aka Papa Libertus, Sadness is his middle name, oh sweet boy has anxiety (please love him), EMOTIONAL, loves to cook for his glaives (Chef!), when he´s in the mood will tell you stories  aboud Galadh and reminiscent about his friends (smiles a whole lot),when angry speaks fast Galadh and cuss like no tomorrow, man can SING (just get in him alcohol), will KILL YOU without mercy If you hurt his glaives!, mix exceptional drinks (shares tips and tricks with Gutsco), has photos of Nyx and Crowe, when time allows checks on Mama Ulric, CUDDLE BEAR!!! 

Nelly: First Lieutenant, Big mama, Hammer Queen! One in charge of training (survives only the best), LESBIAN, Stern when needs to be, playful out of duty, embrasses younger glaives, (helps with their pranks, don´t tell Libertus) Yura´s mentor in heavy weapons, Loves anything flowery, champion in drinking (Gutsco and Mat tried outdrink her), the one who makes the most bets (currently runs one when will Yura and Andrea get together), suffers from PTSD, good with children (all ages)

Andrea(OC): Bearer of the Sigils of Yore, Too nice for her own good, youngest baby glaive, ambivert with depression + ADHD (send Yura and Jenica her way), wants to help people no matter what (gets chewed by Delilah and Libertus for her safety),  surprisingly good at massages, no brain cell just elevator music, Yura and Jenica are her impulse control, loves animals (wanted to pet baby coeulr, Lib and Nelly said no :( ), sunny smile, dare to hurt her friends RAGE MOOD, LIKES Yura!, reminds Libertus of Nyx 

Elea: Hard ass Cleigne woman, in charge of supplies, know how to kick ass and will, Miles is her anchor in this madness, enjoys sea and swimming, helps take care of civilians, Shuriken bae, helped save Axis Arra´s family after Fall of Insomnia(stayed with touch with them), Axis once on battlefield saved her life from behemont, when is someone from glaives sad she will bring them small trinkets, does yoga, flexible

Miles: Main driver, will fix anything for glaives (usually found helping Cid with upgrades), Elea is his Hearth and Home (has prepared a ring!), often spares with Marshal Leonis (gets his ass handed most of the time),  indepted to Axis for saving Elea, has dog named Pipa, ladies at Exineris have him in high regards, once made a bomb (was forbidden to do it again), secret stash of alcohol (shares with Lib)  

Delilah: Top notch healer, suffers from insomnia, helps madam Kimya with potions and herbs,(own small herb garden) enjoys quiet time with tea/coffee and blanket, sappy novels all the way!, pray to Six if you get hurt and don´t report to infirmary that woman will hunt you down, tired and unpaid psychologist, Crossbow madam (friendly competitions with Libertus,), has sweets on hand as reward, sweet tooth!, usually reminds team to DRINK A FUCKING WATER!! 

Gutsco: gruff Altissian( has tender hearth), appreciate tattoos and piercings, (was tattoo artist himself), LOVES alcohol and food (Libertus is his guru!), Great with glaive´s magic, still good at throwing punches, was in squad with Crowe (a boom menaces!), moody, dispute about passions, zero chill, likes baby glaives (their pranks not so much), suffers from paranoia, was drug addict (and my boy is clean for 5 years!) , secret- he know how to crochet (made jumpers and blankets for whole squad)

#ffxv #ffxv comrades #ffxv kingsglaive #oc #libertus ostium #nyx ulric #crowe altius #axis arra

[wordsfromthesol]

Mixed Signals

Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Taglist: @lana-king @marvelfreakbrynnlee​ Pairing: Older!Damian x Reader Summary:  *cough* read the request pictured below *cough* Warnings: Violence, cursing, the good stuff Word Count: 2k A/N: Quarantine requests have begun! I’m going to try and post a little more frequently during this time so ya’ll have some new content while you’re bored (my work has not been suspended...but trying to write as much as I can!) 

“Master Damian, your father wished that I remind you of my granddaughter Y/N’s arrival tomorrow.”

“Tt, and why would I need this reminder?”

“Well, she is staying with us at the Manor. Vigilantism is to be kept to a minimal, as Y/N is unaware of this family’s nighttime activities. Your brothers have been informed and as such, will only enter the cave, if necessary, from the exterior.”

“I shall do the same then.”

“I was hoping you could refrain altogether. Perhaps accompany her around Gotham?

“Tt, I am not a babysitter Alfred.” And with that Damian stormed out of the living room and headed immediately for the training room.

**

“Papa!” You exclaimed as soon as Alfred opened the door. You quickly enveloped him in a hug, before stepping back and admiring his living quarters. “These Wayne’s you work for are clearly loaded.”

“Y/N, you know that is no way to talk.”

You just shrugged as you walked inside. “You’re happy though, right? They treat you okay?” You knew exactly how ‘the help’ could be treated.

“My dear, of course. In fact, Master Damian has agreed to show you the Gotham sights.”

“Somehow I doubt he did that willingly.”

“Some coercion from his father may have been necessary.” Alfred smirked. The two of you sat at the kitchen counter catching up on life, when Damian turned the corner. You glanced his direction.

“You must be my tour guide I’ve heard so much about!”

“Tt, only if you wish to go to the worst parts Gotham has to offer.”

“Hm, sounds much more fun than the best parts. Everyone gets to see those.”

“I am confident Alfred can accompany you around the city.”

“I am too, but he said he’s got something to do for your father all day tomorrow.” Alfred shot a look of disappoint towards Damian, as you continued. “I don’t want to intrude, if you have something to do. I’m sure I can entertain myself for the day.”

“Fine. I will escort you through Gotham tomorrow.”

**

“So Dami, how’s babysitting?” Jason teased his younger brother.

“Fantastic. I must chaperon the ray of sunshine all day tomorrow. See the sights that Gotham City has to offer.”

“From what I remember, Y/N is capable of handling herself just fine around Gotham.” Dick chimed in, trying to ease Damian’s clear frustration.

“Well Father would be most disappointed in me if I left her to fend for herself.”

“Lighten up, I’m sure her positivity will make the day enjoyable.” Jason smirked knowing full well that would only further agitate his brother. You didn’t want to hear any more of the conversation, clearly Damian disliked you. You would just have to live with that, you thought as you stalked up to the guest room.

“I just do not comprehend how she can be so positive. All the time.”

“Hm, been thinking about her a lot since that first meeting…haven’t we?” Now Dick joined in on the teasing, realizing the effect you had on his youngest brother.

“Of course not. The notion is ridiculous.” With that Damian left his brothers, no longer wishing to endure their quips.

**

You expected the day to drag on. In fact, you didn’t even know if Damian would actually take you on a tour of the city of not. To your surprise, he was waiting for you in the kitchen when you sauntered down to grab some coffee.

“Damian. You’re awake.”

“I was unsure of when you wanted to leave.”

“Honestly, I’m more of a nightowl. Mind if I grab some coffee and then go get ready? Say we leave in an hour?”

“I will meet you here in an hour.”

You smiled and nodded as you passed him to get to the coffee machine. “So from a true Gothamite’s perspective, any places that are a must see?”

“Tt, I am not from Gotham.”

“Oh. I thought – nevermind – where are you from?”

“No where you would be privy to.”

“Sorry for asking then…” you stumbled out of the kitchen, preparing yourself for an awkward day.

**

You put on a smile as you walked down the stairs, determined to have fun despite the storm cloud accompanying you. “Ready?” Your cheery voice echoed through the hall.

“As much as one could be.”

You were okay with the silence as you took in the sights. You grew up in a fairly small town, no building was over five stories. This was astonishing. The amount of people and cars around you, everything constantly moving. Finally, the car you were in stopped.

“Where are we?”

“Wayne Botanical Gardens.”

“How rich is your family…?” You question as the two of you got out of the car.

“Heh, I am not sure that I can answer that question.”

“Maybe one day I’ll ask a personal question you do know the answer to.” You sighed before gliding over to the garden entrance. You didn’t talk for the next hour, you were too enthralled looking at all the plants and flowers. Damian was too enthralled gazing at you. You saw the beauty in everything, granted flowers are a typically beautiful plant, but you seemed to admire everything around you. He even watched as you bent down and picked up someone else’s trash. The action seemed to be done subconsciously, as you hadn’t even realized what you just did. As you neared the end, you turned towards him, an undeniable sparkle in your eye.

“Oh, where to next? Is every place in Gotham this beautiful?”

“Tt, that would be impossible.”

“Right,” you sighed, remembering who you were talking to.

“Wayne Tower is near here.”

“A garden and a tower, my oh my, the Wayne’s do get around.”

“Yeah. Want to go?”

“Why not, perhaps we can stop for lunch nearby?”

“Okay.”

You trudged forward, ignoring the short responses. Before you knew it, the day seemed over. You knew you hadn’t seen half of Gotham, but Damian seemed rathe insistent you head back as darkness enveloped the city.

“Oh, come on, Damian. Are you scared of the dark?”

“Of course not. I am not a child.”

“Good. Let’s go to a bar! I’ve heard the Iceberg Lounge is a must!”

“A must avoid, perhaps.”

“Well, I am going. You are more than welcome to join me.”

Surprisingly, the rest of the night went on without a hitch. Damian didn’t even suspect that you were actually gathering intel at the lounge. Unbeknownst to Alfred, you had ulterior motives for visiting him in the big city. Your dad was finally letting you in the family business, this was your first assignment. Gather intel on the drugs being pushed out at the Iceberg Lounge in Gotham City.

**

A few more days had passed, and you managed to get to or near the lounge every night. Sometimes you went inside, sometimes you waited and watched from the rooftops. Thankfully, the Wayne Manor was surprisingly easy to sneak out of. Or so you thought. Alfred, however, was growing more and more concerned by your nightly disappearances.

“Master Damian, might I inquire how your day of sightseeing with my granddaughter went?”

“Fine? Did she claim otherwise?”

“No. Did she seem particularly eager to go somewhere?”

“The only place she requested was the Iceberg Lounge. Why she would associate herself with such an establishment is beyond my comprehension.”

“Hm. I feared as much. Master Damian, I might request a small favor.”

“Does this favor involve Y/N?”

“It does.”

“What do you require?”

“She seems to be leaving each night. I am afraid she may get herself into trouble. As you know, Gotham is no place to wander. Could you follow her?”

“Of course.” Damian left and immediately geared himself up, as much as he dared to in civilian clothing. Then, it was the waiting game. Just as Alfred said, around 10 you snuck out through the window. Luckily, Damian was waiting close by on a motorcycle.

This time you decided you would go in the lounge. You discarded the dark robe, uncovering the rather revealing outfit you donned, as you entered the taxi. Upon entering the lounge, you saw a few of the suspects already downing drinks. You didn’t hesitate in approaching them. Unfortunately, this approach had caused wrong person to take notice of you.  

“Hey beautiful. I’ve seen you in here a lot lately. Yet you haven’t come and talked to me. I thought I’d take the initiative.”

“How sweet of you. I’m afraid I can’t indulge your fantasies tonight. Perhaps another.”

“Huh, see…I think you can.”

You smiled at the unsavory character, as you did he latched onto your wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

“Awe, does the pretty lady know self-defense.”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Good.” The man seemed to sober up almost instantly. “Then you can tell me why you’ve been grilling my men.”

Shit. You quickly brought your knee up into his groin, causing him to release you. You grasped the gun in your purse and shot in his direction.

“Can’t even hit me?”

“Oh honey, I wasn’t trying.” You smiled as a light fixture swung down and crashed between the two of you. As you turned to make a run for it, the room filled with smoke and someone grabbed you by the waist and placed the other hand over your mouth. You quickly realized they were pulling you to safety and decided to see how the situation played out. Once you cleared the smoke, you recognized the figure. “Damian?!” You stopped dead in your tracks.

He looked back at you, once he noticed you weren’t going to move, he pulled you in close and pulled out what looked like a gun. Except this gun pulled the two of you up through the air, landing you on a rooftop.

“What the hell were you doing?!” You had never heard Damian raise his voice; you didn’t even think he was capable of it. “You almost got yourself killed in there!”

“What?! Did you follow me here?!”

“Of course, I followed you. Gotham is not a safe place. You should not be out here alone.”

“Why the fuck do you even care? You hate me!”

“Hate yo – ? I was protecting you!”

“Well, I don’t need your protection. I can handle myself.”

“Clearly. But I could not take that risk.”

“You barely know me.”

“I can tell Alfred loves you.”

“Oh, you followed me because my grandfather asked you to.”

“No. Well, yes. However, I would have followed regardless. If I had known earlier.”

“Why?”

“You seem hold this astonishing ability to acknowledge the good in everything and everyone. It amazes me. But Gotham…everyone in Gotham is capable of tremendous evil. I could allow it to take you as it has so many others.”

You took his hands in yours, causing him to momentarily tense. “Damian, I choose to believe that everyone has the capacity for good. But I am not so naïve to believe everyone utilizes that.” You sighed, “If I tell you something. Do you promise not to tell my grandfather?”

Damian just nodded at your words.

“My father, he followed in his father’s footsteps. And I, I’ve chosen to follow in my father’s. We, I suppose the closest thing to what we are is spies. He told me just to gather the intel. I guess I got a little trigger happy.” Your gaze seemed to freeze Damian on the spot. “Though, I’m guessing your family knows a little about that. Unless normal citizens of Gotham carry smoke bombs with them.” Your statement shook him from the trance.

“No, unfortunately, I cannot say that is true. I am a vigilante, spy, hero, whatever terminology you wish it to don.”

“Good. Then you can continue protecting me. And maybe I can return the favor.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne fanfic #Damian Wayne #older!damian x reader #older!damian imagine #robin x reader #robin imagine #robin fanfic #batboys #batboys fanfic #batboys x reader #batboys imagine #batboys x you #batfamily #BatFam #batfam fanfic #batfam imagine #batfam x reader

[ghost-band-aids]

Interview with GHOST and TRIBULATION

The Undisguised Truth

TOBIAS FORGE and JONATHAN HULTÉN have a lot in common. While one of them currently slips into the role of the exalted charmer Cardinal Copia as the singer of GHOST, the introverted TRIBULATION guitarist on stage transforms into a fascinating, expressive being who exists beyond genre and gender boundaries. What is real, what is an artificial figure? METAL HAMMER met both of them during their tour together for a conversation that allows far more than just a look behind the scenes of two of the most popular metal bands at the moment, but also unexpectedly intimate insights.

Tobias, originally you didn't want to be the singer of Ghost. Did the mask help you to come to terms with this exposed role?

Tobias Forge: Yes, well, at least from today's point of view. But I never wanted to be unknown.

What function does your stage make-up have, Jonathan?

Jonathan Hultén: It helps me to put myself in a certain mood. The idea behind it is to isolate and reinforce a fraction of myself, an aspect of my personality. To immerse myself in this is an experience beyond the everyday state of mind.

Strengthen also Cardinal Copia or Papa Emeritus facets of your personality, Tobias?

Tobias Forge: I'm not shy, but I'm not as sociable as Cardinal Copia - and also not a "physical clown" like him. What I do is a kind of mixed bag. I imitate people I find funny or interesting.

Basically, the way actors do it. If you asked Robert DeNiro how he came up with the young Don Corieone, he would probably say: Well, there was this guy in my old neighborhood... The costume gives you the opportunity to completely surrender yourself in that moment and just be that new person. That's interesting, because you only reveal it to a few people for a limited time. You don't have to see how that person lives the other 22 hours of the day. Like with actors: James Bond is cool because you only see certain sides of him. Never in the bathroom or shower. Well, not in the toilet, in the shower. But always in the company of a snake or something he kills.

How long does the transformation take?

Tobias Forge: But you finished much sooner than I did.

Jonathan Hultén: For pragmatic reasons. I like to get it done as soon as possible so as not to get in a bind later. How about you?

Tobias Forge: We have a very tight schedule. Pretty much exactly one hour before the show starts I walk in the door as Tobias and come out as someone else.

What does this transformation do to you?

Jonathan Hultén: You have to enter a stage with emphasis. So it's good to be prepared.

Tobias Forge: And that's what happens within this hour. You slowly start to move differently... I love being a different person for two hours and then changing back. But I need some time for that, usually I stay alone for an hour after the show.

Jonathan Hultén: That's good. As far as I can, I try to do the same. Mostly by doing something that I can be introspective about... ...carry things back and forth or something.

Tobias Forge: I think that's very important. There is potential suffering in art, especially in mental health. The smaller the discrepancy between yourself and the person you are portraying on stage, the harder it is to deal with. If you are merely associated with your stage character, people expect you to behave like that in real life.

And that can be problematic...

Tobias Forge: Exactly, because they created this super human being who can do anything, who has a carte blanche. Everyone applauds, everyone laughs, and everything you do is funny or cool. And if you take it to the bar afterwards... There are bad examples of people who can't get down in normal life, become alcoholics or, well, die.

Jonathan Hultén: Sure, all that can be destructive. But in my case it was very helpful to discover my more explosive, extroverted sides. And to dare to give them more space, because privately I am quite shy. That's also part of the process of building up, which takes a long time.

I gradually gain self-confidence from this, so that I can now express myself better in everyday situations.

Tobias Forge: I think they are one and the same. It's like mental martial arts, where the person who doesn't like the fight, but still has to face it - within the limits of the dojo, of course, so as not to hurt anyone. And, yes, art is basically good for anyone who has the desire to become someone else. It's a generalization, but I think there's a lot of truth in it: many artists choose this path because they weren't very popular at school. Or they can't come out of themselves, but their art offers them an opportunity to do so. It's fun to go on stage, to transform and feed off the energy or admiration.

How you interact with the audience has changed over the years.

Tobias Forge: Sure. The masked person has an advantage of about 70 concerts, so 1,000 hours on stage. If I had given myself the same amount of time to develop without the make-up, without the role, just with acoustic guitar, I might have created a completely different stage personality. But this is completely uninteresting for me, because I prefer this super character! (laughs)

Jonathan Hultén: transformation would then no longer be so dramatic, but much more subtle.

Tobias Forge: And you'd have to be comfortable in your own skin.

Jonathan Hultén: I'm working on it. (laughs)

Jonathan, your solo debut, CHANTS FROM ANOTHER PLACE, will be released soon and you will also be touring with Chelsea Wolfe. Will you be different on stage there than you are here with Tribulation?

Jonathan Hultén: It has become harder to separate the two. They are like different shades of the same color. And I've found that they both borrow a lot from each other. The tribulation performer exists much longer, so he has much more experience. He/she is like an archaeologist who explores an inner wildness and passion. Over the years a lot of weird stuff has been dug up and included.

On the other hand, the solo performer, who has only been around for about three yen and is still is at the beginning of the excavations. However, I expect that also here many interesting things will appear

What can we expect from you live?

Jonathan Hultén: Just like with Tribulation, the atmosphere will be very important. But apart from some dramatic excursions, the show will be mostly silent and contemplative. The silence gives more room for more complex emotions to unfold in a way that I miss in the energetic performances of Tribulation.

These in turn defy the unwritten rules of a traditional metal show, not least thanks to you. Tribulation are considered a death metal band...

Tobias Forge: I wouldn’t call you guys like that.

Do you see yourselves as pioneers? Do you enjoy being different?

Jonathan Hultén: I stopped thinking about whether people see me as stupid, weird or whatever. It's the only way I can do it. Headbanging just wasn't enough. I felt there had to be something bigger, some kind of ectase. This may be weird, but it feels good.

How important are grace and style to you?

Jonathan Hultén: Both are important, but it's equally important not to be obsessively attached to them. Someone once said that grace is a combination of spontaneity and control. It's a good rule of thumb - on and off stage. It's always about balance. Every situation is unique and requires a unique approach.

Tobias Forge: You should be really proud of it, apart from the fact that your music is great. Your performance is dramatically different from any other. Besides the music, your physical attributes and the way you present yourself make you a very unique and interesting person. Strange, cash, different. You should definitely pursue that. Yes, I think you should see yourself as a pioneer.

Jonathan Hultén: Mm, thank you. (chuckles)

What does that do to your audience?

Tobias Forge: If you are a live musician, have an antenna for it and you don't completely care, you always enter a symbiosis with the fans. Give and take, almost like in a physical relationship. You will try to perfect ways to give pleasure to each other. I know it sounds weird, but every decent relationship changes with age. You grow together, you have new needs or ideas. That's why some couples bring in other people, or whips or plugs. It's the same with you and the audience. During our second show I noticed that our audience is very positive, but I couldn't make a rhyme out of it.

Why that?

Tobias Forge: The room was filled with Hard Rock people, the kind of people I've been playing to since I was a teenager. But they weren't headbanging as usual. Instead they did something else.

Jonathan Hultén: Wiggle.

Tobias Forge:  Yeah, they were wiggling around. (laughs) And singing and laughing, very different from what I knew from Death or Black Metal shows.

Are there any other special features of your fans?

Tobias Forge: When we played the first headliner shows in America, I noticed for the first time the gender diversity in our audience. Our fans are a lot of girls, a lot of guys, and a lot in between. We've always been a magnet for people who are unhappy with their gender or don't feel they belong anywhere: Kids, many outsiders and outcasts in various fragile states.

Jonathan, Tobias' words seem to resonate with you.

Jonathan Hultén: Yes, they do. I don't speak for tribulation as a whole when I say this, but I personally don't feel I belong to either gender. But I've never felt the need to choose either. Androgyny is what I feel most comfortable with. This tendency probably also applies to performance, whether tribulation or solo.

Tobias Forge: The best portrayal of the devil I've ever seen is from the movie 'The Passion of Christ'. Satan is portrayed by a woman, but speaks in a man's voice and thus becomes the epitome of androgyny, completely genderless. For incorporating this aspect into your stage personality, I give credit to you and the band. Especially when you get together with Adam (Zaars, guitarist of Tribulation) on stage, it seems elfish and feminine, but also masculine. This is incredibly interesting and unusual, especially in the rigid heavy metal genre with this "men are men" and "women are women" thing: Doro Pesch, girl, Manowar, guys, great. But when I think of all the metal bands I like, there are also examples of very attractive androgyny, which is not necessarily sexual. Not to mention seventies rock bands.

You have been confronted with different kinds of music and art forms from a very young age. Does that give you an artistic advantage?

Jonathan Hultén: It helps me to keep my relationship to art fresh, to get excited. Whether in childhood or in adulthood: open-mindedness helps the creative process. If you're not afraid of opening up to all kinds of different music styles, you can find inspiration in the most surprising places. No matter where the idea comes from - the important thing is whether it works. Certainly, this is reflected in all areas of creative work. Become the medium through which the flow of inspiration flows - then collect the gold pieces that this flow carries with it and create something beautiful out of them.

Does the metal context limit your expressiveness?

Tobias Forge: I don' t feel restricted with Ghost at all. There are only a few ideas I can' t realize with the band, because Ghost is a combination of all the things I like about music, cinema and theatre. But if there is enough time in the future, I would love to be in a completely different band where I am not the center of attention. I am a guitarist and would like to sing backup. That corresponds to me much more.

Jonathan Hultén: I'm exploring something new, and it's been quite interesting - and different. There are endless possibilities to discover yourself, artistically and as an artist. Only unfortunately there is not enough time.

I'm afraid that we don't have enough time either.

Tobias Forge: Yes, but these things are existential. They are not only about art and being an artist, but also about how both are connected to the human psyche and why people, artist or not, need art to function in modern times. That, by the way, is also one of the things I appreciate about tribulation: You are artists, not just any death metal band. I don’t want to hang anybody on the fence but especially in metal many musicians claim that they make music for themselves first and foremost. That’s not true! As soon as you go on stage you want to get something back. Even GG Allin! And his gigs were really a confrontational and bad experience for every lover of the fine arts. Playing just for yourself? That's not how it works. You either do it to please or to deliver something. People laugh, cry, clap, scream, whatever... And when they leave, they feel a little bit better. That's entertainment!

Anja Delast/ Metal Hammer

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

Please do not share without naming the origin. I have taken a lot of effort with it and unfortunately it is distributed without stating the origin. It's somehow sad...

#thebandghost #the band ghost #cardinalcopia #cardinal copia #tobiasforge

[starshineandbooks]

Things are better if I stay...

word count: 4,105

Title from Helena by My Chemical Romance

Ao3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARTER DEATH! Angst, dealing with the death, after life, trauma, blood, gore, attempted murder, accidental murder, successful murder, Murderous! Virgil (He isn’t the killer) LOGAN ANGST! Fuck it, everyone hurts. Also not beta read

Pairings: LAMP, Thomas/Harley (Heart)

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors‘ Laoft au LOGAN ANGST

Summary: A coup gone wrong ends Logan’s life early, even by human standards, he dies and his loved ones are left to pick up the pieces. 

AKA: I got sad so I took my emotional support character from not only the fandom but the LAOFT AU specificaly, and killed him. Oops.

Logan wasn’t supposed to be there, he never was. It was meant for his husband, for Virgil. A plan made by drunken faeries to throw a coup, and try to over through Virgil.

   Virgil who was at home with their daughter. Virgil who was the faerie prince. Virgil who would later be very very murderous.

   Logan strides through the door of the faerie hill,making sure he has everything in his satchel, eyes falling to the crunching leaves under foot. He sighs, the autumn air chilly this evening, just this side of unpleasant.

   The next time Logan has to go and get Bell’s lesbian out of trouble he’ll have to have a real coming to Jesus with Bell. Logan shakes the thought from his mind, he must be spending too much time with May.

   “Help!” A voice calls, and Logan goes still.

   Logan is not delusional, he is still in a decidedly Fae part of the woods, and voices from an unseen source are definitely not to be trustable.

   “HELP ME!” It rings again.

   A second voice sounds, “No, you’ll draw attention.”

   The second voice sounds like that of an injured man.

   Logan swallows, he can’t leave them here. The voices, they’re those of his mortal husbands. Logan could never just leave them there.

   Logan has never been very good at rationing things when he is distressed for a loved one.

   He doesn't care, he runs to the right suddenly, following the calls for help that are in Patton’s voice, broken and brittle like glass shards. Scared, almost as chilling as when he’d been confronted with the Roman the serpent king owned, the night Roman.

   Logan doesn't feel the first arrow until the second one is hitting.

   Each arrow goes to his chest, hitting vital organs, and making him bleed entirely too much. He feels each arrow, fifteen in total, hit him, piercing through his skin and muscles, flowers growing from his wounds and hurting him further.

   Logan crumples and hears an exchange of words that worry him.

   “Oh fuck- That’s snowmelt! Oh we are so dead!”

   “You are so dead, I didn’t shoot the arrows.”

   “That won’t matter when the witch hears about it.”

   Logan swallows hard, eyes glazing over and heart racing, what if they get Virgil next?

   “Virg-” HIs throat is too full of sharp bloody shards of pain to continue.

   “Logan?!” Virgil calls, appearing, it’s pretty hard for the magic in Logan’s bracelet to not let Virgil know of Logan’s condition.

   Virgil scans the area just long enough to feel terrified before he looks to the ground and feels something far, far more potent than the terror of a few seconds before.

   “Logan- This- This isn’t funny! Come on, get up! Get up, get up you- you- you incredibly wonderful man, get up!” Virgil shrieks, knees feeling weaker than they have in years.

   “Get up.”

   Logan swallows hard and manages, “I would like that very much, yes.”

   “Then get up!”

   “It seems as though I cannot at the moment, darling.” Logan coughs hard, lungs rattling and blood coming to splatter his face and arm as Logan tries to cover his mouth.

   “Logan,” Virgil says, sinking to his knees in a surly undignified matter.

   Not that Virgil could care in even the slightest with Logan bleeding out on the forest floor, in front of him no less. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. Nothing is okay and he’s going to lose Logan isn’t he?

   What is he going to tell PAtton and Roman? Kai, Sloane, Remy, Emilie, everyone else? What will he tell Linda? Or Dot and LArry?

   God, what will he tell Thomas?

   “Pretty stars tonight,” Logan rasps, eyes falling from the sky back to Virgil, “darling?”

   “Yeah,” Virgil nods, he’ll alway agree with his husbands.

   But right now Logan could say he’d never loved Virgil, and wanted to marry the serpent king but married Virgil to spite the unseelie, and that Logan had never loved anyone, and that Virgil deserved to be tortured, and Virgil would agree. Virgil would agree to anything.

   “Don’t be sad, love.” Logan says weakly, reaching for Virgil.

   Except that.

   How could Virgil ever possibly not be sad over this?!

   “Logan,” Virgil sobs, eyesight blurring at an alarming rate. But he takes Logan’s hand between his own two gently, “Logan don’t, I can get us to May.”

   Virgil focuses everything he has on taking Logan to May, the shadows closing in around them, he won’t lose Logan too. Never, Logan isn’t- Logan’s not even old enough to die by human standards!

   A startled shriek from Patton on the couch followed by a gasp and a call for mAy in about three voices.

   Virgil’s own, if anyone was really listening, was distorting and turning decidedly non human, and much more eldritch horror-y than not.

   “Shhh,” Logan shushes, “Don’t -Linny’s asleep.”

   Virgil snaps back around to give Logan a very dirty look, how dare Logan shush him when Logan is literally dying. Oh god, Logan is dying- this isn’t right. Nothing is right-

   “Everyone get the hell away from Logan.” May snaps, stomping forward with a black bag with pastel paisley embroidered on it and her duck slippers.

   Virgil growls low, in the back of his throat, and not even he is sure what the sound most resembles.

   May stares at Logan and she shakes her head with a sigh, “Logan, baby, why on God’s green earth would ya decided to become target in target practice, ya mongrel!? Are ya tryin’ ta kill me early?”

   Logan stares just a little more blank than anyone would like at May’s face, “Nana-”

   “Don’t you dare start some goodbye speech.”

   And as if the moment could not get any worse, as if the universe hadn’t just done the not only unthinkable, but the also unforgivable by promising Logan chronic pain if not death, banshee shrieking starts up in the yard.

   The snarl that leaves Roman as he drags Patton into the yard is much more threatening than Virgil thinks he’s ever heard.

   “‘M sorry.” Logan rasps, a gurgle following before he swallows as hard as he can, “nd I love you, and all o’ them. Don’- d-”

   “Logan don’t you dare,” May snaps wetly, “Don’t you dare! Just hold on!”

   She sets a hand on his shoulder and starts digging through her bag hastily with the other.

   “Don’ let them be too sa-”

   “Logan, I’ll kill you if you do this.” She growls, pulling a bottle from the bag and opening it quickly before doing her level best to get it down Logan’s throat.

   Logan swallows the liquid as best he can around the lack of control over his muscles he has going on. His eyes fall to Virgil’s, trying to plead Virgil to do something. To ease the pain.

   And what Virgil wouldn’t do for those quick silver eyes.

   “Have I told you about how I love you? Well, I’ll tell you again.” Virgil’s voice starts to lessen in distortion and grows more and more alike to the moon breaching the broken ice of a pond.

   Logan’s breathing becomes more and more shallow, and even harder to keep up. His lungs rattle with every breath now, and his blood collects in his throat.

   And Virgil talks, he isn’t quite sure what he’s saying, and from the looks of it, neither is Logan. May has turned her back on them, oddly quiet.

   Then, “Vatti?”

   A small voice, a girl’s voice. Linda’s voice.

   As if shocked, Logan tries to get to see his baby one last time, figure out why she sounds so broken.

   Linda slowly steps forward, “VAtti, what- Is he-”

   “Go upstairs, Linny.” May says, voice making Virgil think on those spiky balls from the trees everyone uses around christmas, sometimes called a witch burr, but as miserable as wet socks.

   “Mamaw-”

   “Upstairs Linda Marie.”

   Linda casts a look to Logan and chokes, “Papa-”

   “He loves ya, now go upstairs.”

   “Mamaw-”

   “Now. One.”

   “But-”

   “Two, Miss Linny I’ll tan yer hide if ya make me get ta three.”

   “I love you papa,” Linda says before running upstairs to try to pray this all into some twisted, dark, horrendous nightmare.

   Virgil looks down just in time to watch the life and fight leave Logan’s eyes, and oh, that’s a rather dull look in those eyes. Isn’t it?

   “What’ll we tell Thomas?” Virgil asks after a pause of who knows how long, but more than he could bear.

   “The truth, I’d imagine.”

   “You want to tell Logan that his brother was murdered in cold blood in the middle of  faerie?” Virgil growls, then growls lower, “He was killed in the middle of my land.”

   “So he was.”

   “I have business as soon as we finish telling the others.” Virgil sneers, “Someone is going to answer for all of this.”

   May turns after a moment, “You won’t be going alone.”

   “We’ll see you hag.”

   “Shuddup.” May scoffs.

   And if the two are teary or maybe even crying, neither says anything, just this once.

   ----------

   Virgil doesn't know when Patton and Roman came in, only that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Having instead opted to sit in Logan’s garden, out back.

   “Virgil?” Roman asks after a moment, sitting on the ground beside his husband. “Did- Was he in pain-”

   Virgil snorts, “No, he was only murdered and shot full of arrows, he wasn’t in-” Virgil promptly shuts his mouth before sighs, “I- I am sorry. That was cruel.”

   “Just- just a little, sweetie.” Patton ists on Virgil’s otherside, and Virgil isn’t sure when that happened either.

   “We have to tell the others, his parents. We have to tell Thomas,” Virgil croaks, “How are we meant to tell Thomas?”

   “Linda said she saw him.” Roman supplies, “So, uh, there’s that.”

   Virgil forces himself to look at Roman, and he nearly screams when he sees the look upon Roman’s face. Whether in protective rage or broken sobs, Virgil’s isn’t sure, so he bites it back.

   “He uh- God!” Virgil mutters something unkind under his breath about himself and words before managing, “He said we shouldn’t be sad. What the fuck does that mean?!”

   Patton gives a laugh, and the underlying tone of a glass bell breaking as it rings isn’t unnoticed by Virgil. Virgil turns his head to see Patton and that was also a bad choice. It seems Virgil is only capable of making incredibly, spectacularly horrid decisions tonight.

   “Just like him,” Roman shakes his head, setting his hands palm down on his knees and squeezing, “always so dismissive of his own worth!”

   A thick, suffocating, decidedly sharp silence settles over the three. None of them quite touch the others, but they all want to.

   To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mamaw who breaks the silence by walking into the backyard. Hands on her hips, “It’s three thirty in the morning, get yer asses in bed. This ain’t gonna be an easy recovery but we all know Logan’d have our hides if we let it tear us apart.”

   “Mamaw,” Roman croaks weakly, turning to see his grandmother, “You can’t mean-”

   “I mean what I said, Roman. Get yourselves in the house, or the faerie hill or somewhere else, but ya better sleep. We’re all going over to the Sanders house as soon as the sun comes up, because tonight’s a full moon and I am not going ta loose more o’ ya.”

   “We should go there now.” PAtton says softly, “They’ll be angry if we put it off.”

   “But-”

   “I’ll go.” Virgil pushes to his feet, eyes finding the moon, not technically full, tomorrow night it will be though.

   “Virgil-”

   Virgil turns to face the humans, his humans, “You could come, if you like. I would not blame you if you stayed though.”

   “We-”

   “You two are decidedly human, yer stayin’ right here.” May says sharply, “and Virgil will be back by breakfast.”

   “Yes, by breakfast.” Virgil says, though he isn’t sure when it is, or whether it will be this particular breakfast.

   May nods, corralling PAtton and Roman into the house, and onto the couch, because she isn’t fool enough to think they’d sleep in the bed all four shared. Three now.

   ----------

   Thomas shrieked when Virgil appeared in his bedroom, waking a worried Harley with said shriek.

   “Oh- goodness! Virgil-”

   “I didn’t mean to come to this room.” Virgil whispers softly, “I’m sorry.”

   “It’s fine, force of habit, I mean, Logan used to share this room with me and-”

   Virgil gives a choked sob at his husband’s name.

   “Is Logan sick or something?” Thomas staggers out of bed quickly, grabbing a shirt from the floor.

   “They-” Virgil shakes his head, “He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead.”

   Thomas goes silent and Harley mutters a curse word.

   “Well, I suppose we’d better go downstairs then.” Thomas sighs, shaking his head, “And, you’re sure he’s y’know, gone?”

   Virgil gives an indignant sound, “As if I didn’t watch it happen.”

   “Okay.” Thomas walks to stand by Virgil, and he just pulls the taller man into a hug, “It’ll be okay.”

   “How are you so-”

   “Calm?” Thomas gives a laugh, “I'm not awake and haven’t processed it yet, give me a bit.”

   “O-oh.”

   “I’ll go get- uh- yeah.” Harley finishes lamely, striding out of the room.

   Brian rushes into the room, “Linda’s upset, she said-”

   “I heard,” Thomas sighs, “Brian it’s threey forty ish, why’re you even awake?”

   “Had a nightmare, ‘nd I didn’t wanna bother anyone, but kitty’s always there.”

   Virgil sighs, finally wrapping Thomas up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

   “It wasn’t your fault.”

   “You can’t know that!”

   “I do. You’d never hurt any of them, let alone kill.” Thomas says thickly, “”mon then, we’d better go tell mom and dad.”

   “I’m still sorry.”

   Virgil is led downstairs and sat on the couch, in Logan’s spot on the couch. And if that doesn't just make him want to scream, cry, or through a tantrum he isn’t sure what does.

   He is vaguely aware of voices, and a conversation happening, but he couldn’t tell you who was speaking or what was being said.

   “Virgil,” Logan’s voice insists urgently, and he knows it’s just his mind being cruel. Logan can’t be here, Logan’s gone.

   “Virgil!” Thomas says louder, setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey bud- we uh-”

   “We- was he in pain.”

   Virgil just nods slowly, “Uh- yeah, arrows do that.”

   “He was-” Dot swallows hard.

   “Y-yeah. Well, I should go. I’m sorry I don’t uhm- I don’t wanna intrude-”

   “You can stay.” LArry offers weakly, “You’re family.”

   “I have business to attend to.” Virgil says finally, “The sooner I start the sooner the bastards that killed him are found.”

   “O-oh.”

   “Hey uhm….” Thomas sighs before he just goes for it, “You’re family Virgil, don’t disappear on us. Please. And don’t you dare disappear on your daughter and husbands.”

   “But-”

   “You better come back on friday, we’ll have a big family dinner, all the gang.”

   “But.”

   “You’ll be here.” Thomas says, “And you’ll do it.”

   “Thomas-”

   “Go home, see your husbands.” Harley says finally, “It’ll do you some good.”

   Virgil looks to Harley, startled, “But-”

   “Go.”

   ----------

   Virgil appears in the kitchen to his own house after a stop to demand Bell and white to start an investigation. It involved Bell and WHite berating him for abandoning the living husbands.

   Virgil finds Patton and Roman on the couch, tangled to gether. Tear tracks staining their faces, but their breathing deep and even, they’re asleep.

   Virgil goes about lifting them, and carrying them to the guest room, curled together and clinging to each other in his arms.

   He sets them on the bed and sits on the edge, he won’t be sleeping tonight, or maybe ever again.

   Linda stands in the doorway, “Vatti?”

   Virgil turns, he’s never been good at ignoring, let alone denying his daughter anything, especially such a thing as comfort.

   “C’mere liebling.” Virgil says gently, holding his arms out.

   Linda rushes forward, burying herself in Virgil’s arms and chest, clambering into his lap. Virgil hugs her as tight as he can while she still breathes.

   “Vatti, I- Will he come back like Gretta did?”

   “No.” Virgil says, “No.”

   “Oh. Good. But uhm…. Are you all going to leave too?”

   “No liebling.” Virgil says, “I would never leave you.”

   “But- what about daddy and pop?”

   “Oh, liebling,” Virgil hums gently, “Not on purpose. But they’re human, they’ll die eventually. You and I will still be here though.”

   “O-oh.” Linda says weakly, “But why-” she cuts off and a sob wracks her body.

   “Because liebling, life isn’t fair.” Virgil says, not quite sure what she was going to ask but knowing it wasn’t about to be pleasant.

   “I hate this.” She whispers, “It’s- it’s- it’s atrocious.”

   Virgil gives a cut off sob at her choice of words, “Oh liebling, you’ll be the smartest one in the family as you get older.”

   “Don’t wanna be the smartest, I want my papa.” She says petulantly.

   “I know.” Virgil says gently. “I know.”

   ----------

   Logan wakes up. To his surprise, in no pain and under a blue sky with those puffy white clouds. A large dog barks excitedly at him, so he pushes to his feet and tilts his head, watching the creature.

   It barks again, turning tail and running to the edge of a tree line before turning to bark once more. Ah, Logan supposes he’s meant to follow the dog?

   Logan shrugs, then laughs at himself, no one is around to see such a slip of self control after all. He follows the dog, noting the trees to be apple trees.

   As the dog leads him he finds himself wondering where his husbands are and- oh. Yes. He is dead then?

   He looks up to a startled gasp, finding a woman with inky hair and her hands on her hips.

   “Logan Sanders.” She snaps, cuffing the back of his head, “You left them?!”

   “I didn’t mean to.” Logan says, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe it, “Who are you and why did you hit me?”

   “You’re a moron, you know that?!” The woman scoffs, “Askin’ who I am, if Virgil didn’t-”

   “You’d be Gretta then.” Logan snorts, “You look better than last time I saw you.”

   “I’d hope.” She crosses her arms stiffly, glaring at Logan.

   Logan sighs, “He uhm…. Virgil misses you still. A lot, and as someone who ate your biscuit recipe product, may I just ask, do you know how spices work?”

   Greta scoffs, “If it ain’t broke ya don’t fix it! Yer insufferable.”

   Logan shakes his head, “I am sorry it was rude to say that I suppose I’ve spent too much time with Kai and Virgil.”

   “It’s fine, Logan.” Gretta shrugs, “I figure I have eternity to make you like my cooking.”

   “I see. Yes, I suppose so. But first, if I truly am dead, I think I have a snake to slap.”

   “What?”

   “I am less and less fond of the snake king every time Roman reveals another bit of past, I wish to slap the bastard out of the usurper.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, a cheshire grin spreading over her lips, “Let me get Trudi and we’ll all go with ya.”

   “Very well.” Logan nods, eyes observing the people in the distance.

   “I think,” Gretta says, “This is the start of a wonderfully elaborate prank on my brother. Don’t you?”

   “Maybe.”

   “Well, c’mon, we’d better hurry up, I know Abbey’ll wanna see you. Not sure why, you aren’t nearly as pretty as Virgil was, but he wasn’t shit either.”

   Logan laughs softly, “Oh, you’re a little softer than he said-”

   Gretta cuffs the back of his head again, “Shut up ya overgrown pixie.”

   “O-oh.” Logan freezes, ‘Oh god Virgil- I left them. All of them- Thomas, my husbands, my parents, my friends.”

   “Oh, yes, crying fixes it.”

   Logan grabs Gretta’s wrist tightly, “No, you don’t get it. I left all of them, but I also left my baby. She is ten. My ten year old daughter saw me just as I was dying.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, “That’s uhm- Let’s go get Abbey, she’ll be better equipped for emotions.”

   “I just want to go home!” Logan snaps, “Please?!”

   “Ya can’t, Logan. Yer here now.”

   “Thanks, I hate it.” Logan croaks, his voice cracking like thin ice over a lake, and he plunges into the darkness below.

   “Oh- ABIGAIL GAUGE!”

   “YEAH?!”

   “C’MERE WOULD YA?! LOGAN’S HERE EARLY AND HAVING A PITY PARTY AND I CAIN’T HELP ‘IM!” Gretta calls, flinching as Logan collapses into her.

   She awkwardly wraps her arms around him, patting him stiffly, “There there. Strange faerie I don’t know well who’s sobbin’ inta my shirt.”

   “Virgil used to talk like that.” Logan says miserably, “I miss him.”

   “Ah, I know, little gremlin weaves his way into your heart and then you lose him.” Gretta mutters, “C’mon Logan you can’t mean to cry forever.”

   “I might.” Logan petulantly mumbles.

   “Logan, baby, that you?” A second woman’s voice sounds, “God, you’re bigger than I remember for sure.”

   Logan turns slowly, finding a fiery redhead, “Who- Who are you?”

   “I go by Abbey,” She shrugs, “I’m Roman’s mom.”

   “Mom and dad talked about you sometimes.”

   “Ye-ah, well, I talk about them sometimes too.” Abbey holds a hand out, “C’mon baby, we’ll get you settled and calmed down, then we can go wherever you like.”

   Logan takes Abbey’s hand, flinging his arms around her, feeling an oddly deep connection he didn’t know existed with this woman who looks just enough like Roman to hurt.

   And maybe it takes Logan a while to settle, sometimes it still hurts. But he does end up slapping Durrant, multiple times, Gretta, Trudi, and Abbey also join the slapping the bastard out of Durrant party.

   Virgil sees the poor faeries who killed Logan to a public execution. But it doesn't do anything to fix the ache Logan’s loss created. He’s more protective of his loved ones, each and every one of them. Especially Linda.

   Linda who may not look like Logan, but shares in the ability to grow plants. Linda who has taken up the habit of reading herself to sleep with dictionaries. Linda, who will outlive Virgil, god willing that is.

   Patton heals slowly, they all do, but Patton lost not only his husband, but his very first friend. Patton lost the man who he did his first play date with. Patton lost a lot when Logan left them, but he healed slowly.

   Roman becomes more reckless at first, he couldn’t care less, if he dies he can see Logan again. He eventually, through therapy Emilie provides -who else?- realizes that he still has so much to live for. It gets a little easier, but Roman internalizes it, that two men he’s loved dead, what if Patton aor Virgil is next?

   Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s marriage is strained at first. They still love each other, and that would never change, but the dynamic changed. They were mourning, and breaking, and not talking about it. Again. After a year and Linda sobbing and asking if they’re going to break up and leave her too, they go to counseling, which, helps. It isn’t perfect, and they’ll alway be missing their last piece, they won’t be whole. But, they’re better, they’re marriage isn’t strained.

   Thomas withdrew from the world, only really talking to Harley and Brian. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his barley younger but still baby, brother. He lost his partner in crime, his childhood memory. Now Thomas only knows half of everything, where as before Thomas knew half of everything, so did Logan, so they knew everything.

   May got crankier. May lost another kid she’d loved to a horrible accident. Another kid she couldn’t save. May lives in the past for a while, but she knows the drill, she’s probably the best prepared.

   Dot and Larry stop going in public when avoidable. They cry together, and the gp to therapy. They lost their child, and so much more. They lost not just Logan, but almost Thomas too.

   Kai doesn't make fun of Logan anymore, he misses the nerd.

   Sloane and Corbin try to keep Thomas company when they can, but they all have lives of their own.

   Elliot spends a lot of time with Virgil, maybe they weren’t as close to Logan, but they did count him a friend.

   Remy and Emilie while they mourn and definitely are a little strained and weary, they make sure the others have groceries and therapy. They do their level best to help the others when they can.

#sanders sides #laoft #major character death #blood #arrows #gore #after life #sanders sides angst #DEAD! Logan Sanders #romantic lamp

[fromcrossroadstoking]

George Luz Visits the Emergency Room (A Lot)

I`m having the worst writer`s block while trying to write Welcome to the 5061st, so I wrote a little piece of Luzroe fluff to try and break it.

Tags: @gottapenny @itisjustmethistime @indigosandviolets 

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

George Luz made his way through the maze of corridors towards the Emergency Room, two cups of coffee and a bag of muffins clutched firmly in his hands. He found Lipton  in his usual spot in the break room, going through some paperwork as he waited.

"Paging Dr. Lipton! Your incredibly healthy breakfast of one low-fat blueberry muffin and small black coffee has arrived!" Luz made the announcement with more pep than should be allowed on a Monday morning as he pushed through the door into the break room.

Lipton looked up from his papers with a smile, "You're a lifesaver Luz."

Luz opened his mouth to agree with the statement when he caught sight of the two men in the hallway through the break room window. Dr. Winters, head of the ER, appeared to be talking to a doctor Luz hadn't seen before.

"Hey Luz, you might want to... " Lipton made a motion indicating that Luz should wipe his mouth. Luz stopped himself just as moved his arm up to do just that.

"I`m not drooling!"

"Whatever you say." 

Luz rolled his eyes and handed over Lipton`s breakfast, only momentarily taking his eyes off of the dark haired doctor in the hallway before they darted right back.

"In case you were wondering, that would be Dr. Eugene Roe, our new resident. Supposed to be one helluva doc."

"Huh. You don`t say... " Luz watched intently as Roe smiled at something Winters said. Luz didn't know if Roe was one helluva doc but he sure had one helluva smile.

Lipton sighed knowing Luz was going to stand there being a drool-fest unless he intervened.

"I could introduce you, if you want."

"Well, I mean, if you think that would be a good idea. I, uh, do visit a lot down here so he should probably know who I am. Don`t want him thinking they let just anyone wander around here. I mean - "

Lipton held up his hand to cut Luz off. He could tell when Luz was about to start rambling and Lipton had too much paperwork to do to listen to that right now.

"Come on. I don`t think they'll mind us interrupting." Lipton put down his coffee and led Luz out in to the hallway.

"Hey Dick," Luz nodded at the redhead in greeting and then turned to the other man, "Dr. Roe, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, George Luz. He`s a nurse up on the pediatric floor."

Luz wiped his hands on his pants quickly before holding one out.

When the hell had his hands started sweating?

"I`m George! Nice to meet you!" His voice came out funny sounding and he mentally kicked himself.

Roe took the hand Luz had extended and shook it.

"Nice to meet you too George. I`m Eugene Roe, but you can just call me Gene."

Luz`s eyes widened a bit.

Oh fuck. The accent.

~

Later that night as Luz laid in his bed he couldn't help but bemoan how unfair it all was.

How dare someone that hot, with an even hotter accent, work a mere two floors away from him? How was he supposed to get any work done knowing Dr. HandsomeFace McHotPants was so close?

Luz huffed and rolled onto his side.

Unfair.

~

It was tradition that every Monday morning, Luz and Lipton would meet in the ER`s break room for a quick breakfast before their shifts started. It was a nice tradition that gave them both something to look forward to on Monday mornings.

Today, however, was not Monday. And yet, here Luz was, breakfast for the two of them in hand.

"Morning Lip! Long time no see!" Luz grinned widely as he set the coffees and bagels down on the table.

"Luz?"

"Yeah?"

"It`s not Monday buddy."

"It isn`t?!" Luz`s eyes widened in dramatic fashion, "Oh shoot! Silly me! Well, either way, shouldn't waste this breakfast!" Luz gestured for Lipton to take a seat.

Lipton shook his head, amused, as he sat down. "Luz, he`s already been in and made his coffee. I don`t think he`ll be back again for awhile."

"Who?"

"Luz. You know who. We both do." 

"Hmph," Luz chewed his bite of bagel thoughtfully for a moment, "I can eat slow."

"Luz!" Lipton balled up a napkin and tossed it at the younger man, "You have a job to get to!"

Luz laughed as the napkin bonked him in the face, "Alright! Fine! Maybe I`ll just have to come visit on my lunch break."

Lipton could tell from the grin on Luz`s face that he really was going to do just that. Hell, he had a distinct feeling he was about to see a lot more of Luz for the foreseeable future.

~

Lipton`s feeling had not been wrong. Luz seemed to find every excuse in the book to wander down to the ER - breakfast, lunch, "just getting exercise", dropping off coffees, looking for so-and-so.

And yet, Luz never managed to make it beyond small talk with Roe. Luz was a natural talker and could make friends with anyone (a habit that occasionally worried Lipton) so the whole thing puzzled him. If Lipton didn't know better he might've sworn that Luz`s nerves were actually getting the better of him...  

~

Luz sat in the Emergency Room not as a visitor, but as a patient. As he sat there waiting, he hoped desperately that one of the docs he liked would be the one to see him. Preferably Lipton, or Winters, or Grant. He was torn as to whether or not he wanted Roe to walk in - on one hand it mean time with Roe, time with Roe touching him, but on the other hand Roe would probably ask about his injury and, well, it was frankly embarrassing.

Luz had been lounging on the couch, watching trashy daytime television, when he heard the toaster strudel he had in the toaster pop up. In his rush to get to his precious toaster strudel, he leaped off the coach, promptly tripped over his own feet, fell, and hit his head on the corner of the coffee table.

Luz wasn't sure he wanted to tell the hottest man he had ever seen in his entire goddamn life that he needed stitches because of toaster strudel, so it was to his great relief that Lipton was the one he walked in to the room.

Lipton looked Luz up and down, "Please tell me this isn't a new way of trying to get Roe`s attention."

"Believe it or not this is a legitimate toaster strudel injury."

"Of course it is."

"Really! You can go to my apartment right now and see the evidence yourself! My poor toaster strudel is probably ice cold now."

Lipton let out an exasperated sigh, "Ok, well since it`s just you - "

"Hey!"

" - I need to run to the bathroom so just wait here a second."

~

Lipton did not have to go to the bathroom. Lipton did have to act on what he considered a brilliant idea.

He found Roe coming out of room 5 and flagged him down.

"Hey Gene! I hate to ask but I`m drowning a bit. Could you take a look at the patient in room 2 for me?"

"Of course," Roe nodded and gave Lipton a small smile.

"Thanks Gene, I owe you one."

As Lipton walked away he knew beyond a doubt that Luz was probably going to kill him later. But it was worth it.

~

"George?"

Luz`s head immediately snapped up towards the door as the familiar voice filled the room.

"Gene! Hey, uh, where`s Lip?"

"He asked me to take over. Said he was pretty swamped. Let`s see what we got here, huh?"

Luz made a mental note to murder Lipton later as Roe walked over and began examining Luz`s head wound. Roe was so damn close. So damn close. Luz was pretty sure his brain was going to short circuit with the proximity.

"It ain`t bad. Just a few stitches should do it. Won`t even really be a scar."

"Ha! What a shame, I heard chicks dig scars." 

FUCK. Why would I say that?

Luz tried to recover, sort of... "And guys. Guys, uh, dig scars too."

Luz had never wanted to sink in to the earth so badly before. Until Roe chuckled.

He fucking chuckled.

"We do. Dig scars, that is." Roe gave him what could only be described as a mischievous smile before refocusing on patching up the cut on Luz`s forehead.

~

Over the next few days, there definitely seemed to be a shift between the two of them.

Or maybe it was Luz`s imagination.

No, no, there was a definite shift to a more flirty style of interaction.

Hopefully.

No, definitely. There was no way this was in his head.

Right?

~

Luz showed up to the ER`s break room with three coffees clutched in his hand - one for him, one for Lip, and one for Roe if managed to "run in to him" (he always managed to run in to Roe, even if meant doing a few circles around the ER). So he was absolutely delighted to see that Roe just so happened to be in the break room. He was not, however, delighted to see that Roe was busy playing with a little kid. A dark haired little kid. A pale, dark haired little kid.

Luz felt like he had punched in the gut. Maybe the flirting had been in his head after all. Roe had a kid and probably a girlfriend (or wife, maybe he was the kind of guy who didn't like wearing rings) to go along with the kid.

He did his best to shake off the sudden tidal wave of disappointment as he threw the best smile he could muster on his face.

"Good morning! Coffee?"

Roe looked up from the matchbox car race he was having, "Thank you George. You`re the best." Roe grabbed the coffee with a smile, beaming with appreciation.

"Don`t I know it," George swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say, "Didn't know you had a kid. He`s cute. What`s his name?"

Roe let out a laugh.

Jesus Christ, what an amazing laugh. Luz doubted he would ever get sick of that sound.

"He ain`t mine. I`m just watchin' him for my buddy Ralph. He`s a paramedic. Should be here soon."

The relief hit Luz instantaneously. 

"Speak of the devil..."

"Papa!" The kid in Roe`s lap squealed in delight and wriggled out of Roe`s grasp as a dark haired paramedic came through the break room door.

"Hey kiddo! There`s the cutest little munchkin in the whole world!" Spina picked up his kid and covered him in kisses before turning his attention to the other two men in the room.

"Hey Gene, how was he?"

"An angel as always."

Spina snorted, "Maybe you should spend some more time with him," Spina looked at the squirmy kid in his arms, "What do you think kiddo? You want to spend more time with Uncle Gene."

"Yes, pwease!" The kid nodded enthusiastically.

Roe grinned and then glanced over at Luz, gesturing towards Spina, "George, this is my best friend, Ralph Spina."

Luz held up a hand in greeting.

"Ralph, this is George Luz."

Spina broke into a wide grin at that, "So this is George Luz! Nice to finally meet you George! Heard a lot about you!"

"Oh, yeah?" Luz couldn't help the massive grin on his face as he looked over at Roe who was glaring daggers at Spina. Luz could feel the butterflies in his stomach kick up.

~

Luz immediately liked Spina - he seemed like a genuinely warm, friendly person. The three of them chatted for a bit before Spina excused himself, leaving just Luz and Roe in the break room.

"So," Luz smirked at Roe, "Just what exactly did you tell your best friend about me?"

Roe tried to nonchalantly take a sip of his coffee as he shrugged, "Not much, really."

"Huh, didn't seem like not much from the way Ralph reacted to meeting me..." There was a pause before Roe spoke.

" I might`ve told him about how you`re always tellin' real corny jokes, an' how you put way too much sugar an' cream in your coffee, an' how I ain`t never seen someone eat three chocolate chip muffins for breakfast like you do, an' how you spend all your time on this floor instead of the one you actually work on." 

Another pause. Roe looked Luz straight in the eyes.

"Might`ve also told him my favorite part of the day is when you`re visitin' an' I`m always countin' the minutes until you come visit again."

Luz could feel his heart flutter and for the first time in his life he was at a complete loss for words. So he did the next best thing.

He closed the space between them in two quick steps and pulled Roe into a kiss. He could feel Roe`s lips form into a smile as the kiss deepened.

Oh, Luz was definitely going to be visiting a lot more now.

#george luz #eugene roe #luzroe #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers fanfic #i wrote a thing #carwood lipton #ralph spina

[watching-pictures-move]

Viddying the Nasties # 33 | The Hills Have Eyes (Craven, 1977)

This review contains spoilers.

Wes Craven’s first film, The Last House on the Left, explores what happens when decent people come face to face with real evil, and sets up a campy, innocent surface only to shatter it with unspeakable violence. I’m not a fan (its ambitions are undermined by its technical sloppiness), but there’s no denying that its strongest sequences have a palpable gut level impact. Craven’s stated intention was to reflect the way the violence of the Vietnam War and contemporaneous societal unrest had entered the living rooms of the average American family, and as clumsy as his movie may be in its overall construction, I think it achieves this aim.

A few years later, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre again brought average, almost aggressively banal characters face to face with a kind of savagery heretofore unseen on screen. This time the villains have a more clearly defined family structure (in contrast to the loose association of no-goodniks in Last House), one which suggests parody, but the comedic dimensions of their characterizations might be hard to see thanks to how assaultive the surrounding film is. I think Tobe Hooper’s film is quite a bit better than Craven’s, but both are very much part of the same strain of horror (which arguably started or at least went back to George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead), one which does away with any sense of safety or heroics that might offer comfort to the viewer, and in which society itself seems to be under attack.

The Hills Have Eyes was Craven’s return to the horror genre after a few years of unsuccessfully trying to get non-horror projects off the ground and directing a porno (The Fireworks Woman) under the pseudonym Abe Snake. In many ways it’s a continuation of the themes of those earlier movies and, I would argue, it pushes them further. The heroes here once again find themselves face to face with a kind of horror they’ve never experienced before, one which doesn’t play by their rules. This time the action is set not in the backwoods but in the middle of the desert, the harshness of the environment captured effectively by the rough, dust-caked visuals, individual frames looking like they’ve been left out in the sun far too long. Yet how Craven expands this premise is kind of daring. He mirrors the heroes and villains. And he sets up the heroes to be more than a little unlikable.

Both the heroes and the villains are defined as families, each ruled by their respective patriarchs. The father of the villains was an overgrown, feral child cast off into the wilderness by an abusive father who kidnapped a local prostitute and started a family in the middle of a desert. They’re mean and capable of great cruelty, but at the same time survival is clearly their motivation. Craven invites us to see them how mainstream, polite society viewed the counterculture or how Americans viewed the Viet Cong in the decade prior, which calls our vantage point into question. The father of the heroes is a retired cop who seemingly holds nothing but contempt for the people he was supposed to be policing, using racial slurs and other insults to speak of the life he’s left behind. The rest of his family doesn’t come across much better. The kindly mother makes appeals to their Christianity yet bemusedly remembers the time a neighbour’s dog was killed by one of their own. And frankly, the rest of the characters are pretty annoying. How much should we really be rooting for them?

Of course, once the cannibal family begins their attack, our sympathies line up pretty quickly with the aggrieved party, but even then Craven avoids settling matters too cleanly. The villains are shown to be sadistic, but also intelligent, using psychological warfare in burning alive the father and strategic-minded in using that as a ploy to break into the RV. The film alternates between the perspectives of the heroes and villains, as if to confront us with who we identify with and why (most pointedly in one scene where Papa Jupiter, the cannibal patriarch, speaks directly to the camera). The heroes make stupid mistakes early on, but eventually learn that they can only triumph by matching the savagery of their opponents. Presaging Scream, the characters show some awareness of tropes, particularly Bobby, the clean-cut aviators-donning son who pretends to be tough early on but soon has to step into the alpha male role he was previously play-acting. (That character is played by Robert Houston, the man responsible for combining the first two Lone Wolf and Cub movies and releasing them in the US as Shogun Assassin.) The patriarch of the cannibals is defeated with the symbolically loaded act of the son and daughter using their mother’s corpse as bait and turning their RV into a boobytrap, while another character brutally kills the cannibal who had kidnapped his infant daughter. The closing shot has this character staring at the audience, blinded with rage, the background turning red in a freeze frame. It’s an unpolished image, but one that hits straight in the gut. Yes, our heroes have triumphed, but at what cost?

Alexandre Aja would remake this film a few decades later, drastically upping the gore quotient. As far as remakes go, it’s one of the better ones around as it has an actual sense of texture (greatly enhanced by shooting on location in the Moroccan desert) and a pretty good lead performance, but in aligning our perspective too closely to the protagonist, it loses the original’s most fascinating quality. Aja views the material too neatly a story of good versus bad, while Craven has us questioning which is which and uneasily blends the two. Craven would also revisit the material in The Hills Have Eyes Part II, which he would later disown as a purely mercenary gig, but in my humble opinion, I don’t think it’s all that bad. It lacks the original’s sense of transgression and settles more easily into a slasher movie template, including some of the dumber associated elements (there’s a shower scene in the middle of the desert). But does have a handful of interesting elements (carried over trauma from the original, possible psychic powers) and shares the same dirty, sunburnt visual style. I was never convinced that dirtbikes were nearly as cool as the film insisted (there’s a lot more dirtbike footage than necessary), but by the standards of the average slasher, I found it reasonably enjoyable.

#film #movie review #viddying the nasties #The Hills Have Eyes #the hills have eyes part ii #Wes Craven #Alexandre Aja

[gangsofolympia]

Middi gets lost in the slums

An excerpt from Gangs of Olympia

If you like this excerpt, be sure to follow @gangsofolympia

Middi trembled, clenching her fists until her fingernails dug into her palms. This was it. This time, she would really do it.

She watched from the cramped alley as the tall, slim girl negotiated with a rather emaciated young man near one of the old subway entrances. The girl scowled and shook her head as the man pleaded with her, his face coming only inches from hers.

Middi had always been good at reading lips, and the words from the girl's mouth came out crisp and clear.

Back off.

The man obeyed, backing away a bit, but still, he pleaded. The girl stared at him blankly.

"Get the fuck out of here and come back when you got some money."

It was only when the man reached out, touching the girl lightly on her shoulder, that she sprang to life, shoving him back and kicking his shin.

The howl, Middi could hear.

The man fell to the ground, clutching his leg as he lay on the dirt road. Passersby, simply walked around and stepped over him. They knew not to get involved.

The girl's face was red, now, and she stood over the man, saying a few words before spitting on the ground.

Finally, the man got to his feet and, head down, staggered away, his weak body barely seeming to hold his weight.

Now was her chance. Middi took a deep breath and stepped forward, walking, as confidently as she could, toward the scowling woman, who now smoked a cigarette as she leaned against the rusty subway gate.

Essie Essex of the Bastard Aristocrats took no notice of Middi, even as she drew near.

"Um, excuse me," Middi started. Essie took a long drag from her cigarette, not even bothering to look at the speaker. "Excuse me." Still, no answer. "Excuse--"

"You fuckin' lost?" Essie spat, turning suddenly. Middi flinched, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Um, no, I, uh--"

Essie's eyes widened as she ticked her head forward, impatient.

"You lookin' to buy?" Essie blew a stream of smoke from her nose, throwing her cigarette to the ground.

"No, I, I--"

"Then, get lost, little girl." Essie turned away once again.

Middi took another deep breath, willing her body to stop trembling, but it was no use. But she had gotten this far, she couldn't run now.

"I want to join your gang."

After a few seconds, Essie chuckled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She turned toward Middi, looking her up and down.

"We don't recruit under seven. Come back when you're seven, kid."

Horrifed, Middi stared up at the tall girl, her words, which had been so carefully crafted beforehand, completely forgotten.

"I - I'm not a kid. I'm twenty, actually. Twenty years old."

Essie snorted.

"Uh huh, 'n' I'm fifty. Really, little girl, the fuck outta here. You're blockin' my customers."

"I," Middi started. "I'm a half-dwarf, and, and a bastard. The bastard of an aristocrat."

Essie stayed silent for a moment.

"Yeah?" She answered finally, raising an eyebrow.  

"Yes, I--"

"Then you wouldn't mind doin' this little job for me, right?" Essie's eyes glowed as she stood over the half-dwarf.

"No, not at all." Middi attempted her best smile.

"Right, then," Essie started. "I want you to go to the old temple down on Betty and 105th. Knock on the door, but make sure no one's watchin'. Ask for Stokes. Tell 'im you're pickin' up Essie's package. Here." Essie reached into her pocket, pulling out a small plastic bag. Middi took it, eying the bag questioningly.

"You give that to Stokes. Tell 'im I'm payin' 'em back for what I owe." Essie cleared her throat. "'And if you run off with that, I'll hunt you down, slit your throat, 'n' use your skull as an ashtray. Real good ashtrays human skulls make. When you're done, come back here 'n' maybe I'll take ya to the Mansion."

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

As any walk throughout this city of humans, Middi's was full of curious eyes and pointing fingers. Most she ignored, turning away from the staring babies and the glaring old women. Others whispered, and some laughed, but Middi kept her eyes forward, focused on her destination. She would do this simple job, go see Kitt Monroe, and join the Bastard Aristocrats. Then, no one would dare laugh or point at her. She would belong to the most notorius gang in Olympia.

At four and one half feet, Middi could have passed for a very short human, if only she did not possess other Marrundon features. Her head was large in proportion to the rest of her body, her cheeks round and rosy. She possessed the same transluscent skin that served as a weakness for most Marrundoc, making it difficult for her to walk out in the sun for too long, lest her skin crack and burn. But like most dwarves, she rubbed Ticthec on herself each morning, protecting her skin from any natural or artificial light.

(Middi gets the package and then is robbed)

This is what she had prepared for. It was time to prove her worth.

She may have been short, but she had the strength of the Marrundoc. She charged, tackling the thief. He grunted as his face hit the hard ground, blood flying from his nose and mouth.

"Geh ov me!" He gargled. "Geh ov!"

Middi turned the thief over, kneeling by his chest and leaning over his face. The first punch brought more blood. It spurted from his nose onto Middi's dirty blouse, which had been a crisp off-white. The second punch got his attention.

"Tay git! Tay git! Ahm zorry." The man, still on his back slipped the pouch from around his belt. "Tay git! Ahm zorry," he repeated.

"You should be!" Middi scolded. She stood, snatching the bag from the man's reach. "How dare you steal from me! I'm a Bastard Aristocrat, you know!"

The man's eyes widened at the mention of the gang.

"Ah dihn noh," he blubbered, using his arms to slowly back away. "Ah dihn noh. Won cause any moah tubble." He put a hand out in front of him. "Don tell Kih. Don tell Kih Muroh peas."

"I'll think about it," Middi growled. "You just stay on the ground 'til I'm gone, and I don't wanna see you around here ever again."

"Okay, okay." The man nodded furiously. "Ow go unce yoah gone." More blood spurted from his nose.

"Good," Middi said. She stepped forward and spat on the man for good measure and then turned, leaving Cross Row with a smile on her face, a spring in her step, and fresh blood on her knuckles.

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

Middi returned to the abandoned subway station entrance to find a crowd of people, all gathered around some central object. Some looked up, others looked down, and others both up and then down.

Staring up at the rainclouds in the sky, Middi could see nothing special. Soon her attention was drawn to laughter and the sound of splashing water. Some women in the front screamed, pushing their way out of the crowd, while others looked on disapprovingly.

"Stop that, you kids!" Middi heard the voice of a man sound out from the crowd. The kids seem to have broken whatever spell had been cast over the crowd, as the people on the edges turned and left, followed by the rest of the circle.

Now, Middi had a clear view of two boys jumping in a muddy puddle, water splashing from underneath their shoes. One boy, tired of jumping, decided to play a new game, shoving the other into the muck. The boy sat there on the ground, stunned for a few seconds, and then, his face red, stood and shoved the other boy. Soon, they both shoved each other, and shoving turned to hitting, and hitting to scratching, and scratching to pulling and biting.

"Ah!" One of the boys screamed as the other shoved his face down into the water. His legs and arms flailed helplessly as the boy sat on top of him, and bubbles rose to the surface of the puddle.

"You boys stop that right now!" An old woman hurried out to the children, swatting at the victorious one with a broom. She pulled the other from the water by his collar as he hacked and spit liquid from his nose and mouth. He stuggled to breathe between the sharp spasms of his shoulders and lungs.

The old woman took the other boy by the collar as well, dragging them both from the street.

"Wait until your father hears about this," the old woman muttered.

"No! No, Mrs. Ruz. Don't tell Papa. He'll kill us."

The nearly dead child grunted in agreement.

As for the rest of the conversation, Middi did not get the chance to hear it, as Mrs. Ruz took the children into an old brick building and slammed the door shut behind her.

With the streets back to their normal flow, Middi started to walk around the puddle to find Essie, but a small sound drew her attention back to the water, which now had small ripples along its surface, gliding outward from a central point.

She looked up, and then she looked down. Looking up again, she realized why the puddle had drawn such a crowd. The water came not from a leaking pipe or a spilled bucket, but the sky.

The others' murmurs became clear to Middi, now.

"...place will rot."

"They can't even fix a simple leak?"

"First the air filter, then the temperature regulator..."

"Won't someone do something about this?"

"...my children are sick and dying?"

No wonder Essie had left.

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

After few hours of wandering through streets and alleys, all identically filthy and run-down, and no sign of either Essie or any of the Bastard Aristocrats, Middi gave up for the day. It was getting dark.

A short conversation with a drunken man pointed her toward an inn not too far from where she was. She had no money for food or boarding, but she didn't want to sleep on the streets if she could help it.

Flashing neon lights marked the spot, shining eerily through the smoggy air. As Middi drew near, she realized that the man had pointed her not toward an inn, but a brothel.

Middi scanned the area quickly, but no other buildings gave any indication of life. Eying the girls out front, who blew kisses and threw suggestive phrases at the passing male folk, Middi took a deep breath and stepped forward.

At first the women ignored her, choosing to flirt with the men, no doubt to bait them into paying for an hour or two with them.

Middi cleared her throat.

"Um, excuse me."

The women's eyes fixed on the small half-dwarf before them.

"Lookin' for work?" One of the women said tauntingly.

"I'm looking for a place to stay. Is there an inn nearby?" Middi forced some confidence into her voice.

The two girls eyed each other and giggled.

"Plenty of beds here," the other woman said, batting her eyelashes. "And company, as well." She stepped from the porch of the wooden building, attempting to take Middi's arm. The woman smiled through crimson lips and dark, smoky eyes.

"I'm Jade," the woman purred. "And you are?"

"Middi." The half-dwarf stepped away from the courtesan's reach. "You said there's work? I can wash dishes or sweep the floors in exchange for a room for the night."

"Honey, washin' dishes will get you nowhere," Jade said. "Ain't too many places like this in the city, and this is the kind of place that men will sell their children just to get in for an hour."

"Well," Middi straightened her shoulders and held her head high. "I'm a Bastard Aristocrat, so--"

Jade chuckled, her other companion still on the porch joining in.

"Honey, what makes you think you'd get anything else but a knife in your gut walkin' around here?" Jade's teeth reflected the neon light in the darkness. "Do you even know where you are?"

"I--" Middi had to admit that she had gotten lost while looking for Essie.

"This is the Satin Petal. Best brothel in the city." Jade gave Middi a light chuckle, though it seemed to her a bit more sinister. "Over there--" she pointed toward a dark building. "Is the Stable. And next to that is the Butterfly. Over there is the Platinum Pussy, then the Demon's Nest, and over there is Red Velvet. That last one--" Jade pointed to a small doorway at the end of the road. "That is Asmodeus. Nobody goes there unless they're invited." She put her hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on, who are you really? You're no Bastard Aristocrat, and you shouldn't go around tellin' people that if you wanna keep your head, especially in this neighborhood." Middi opened her mouth to ask where exactly she was, but Jade read her mind. "You're in Devil's Alley, in the Reds right on the border of Inner Haughton."

Belles territory.

Middi felt her face turn hot.

"I guess I'm in the wrong place then."

Jade gave her a taunting smile.

"The wrong place to be if you're a Bastard--which you're not. Otherwise, I suppose it's the right place. Unless you don't have any money--which you don't."

Middi turned, eying the blackened streets.

"Is there anywhere safe I can go?"

"Not in the slums," Jade said. She eyed a couple of men passing by. "Look, honey, I gotta go back to work. If you want a job, go inside and talk to Mo."

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

Middi sighed in relief as she entered the building, the warm air drawing the chill from her body. Perhaps she could just sit in a corner all night and nap without being noticed. But her plan was quickly shattered as she drew the attention of a group of men sitting at a table near the entrance.

Quickening her step, Middi passed them, drawing stares from yet another table of men.

"How much are you chargin'?" A voice called after her. A few whistles sounded from far away.

She hurried to the bar, hoping that she would be able to order a simple and free glass of water. Like all things in Olympia, the bar was human-sized, with no additional seats for dwarves and the like. Though Middi stood a good foot taller than most Marrundoc, she still found herself at a disadvantage as she attempted to climb onto the barstool.

As her eyes began to water, Middi strained to push her thoughts of Billingsley Manor as far away as possible, but still, they broke through the barrier. Her memories of home, where there was a chair at the table just her size and where everything in her bedroom had been built especially for her at the right height, and not too big or small. Everything, so perfect.

But that was why she had left in the first place. Everything was so perfect, so clean, so neat. Middi had felt as though everything had turned gray. Or a crisp, boring white. She couldn't just let her life pass by without doing anything on her own.

She had come to the Immigrant District for excitement. To change herself. She didn't want to be Sweet Little Middelyn anymore. She didn't want to be a child anymore.

But why had she come here? Her father would never have let her go to a place like this, but then again, she wasn't even allowed to leave the garden without supervision.

She shook the thoughts from her mind, concentrating on the challenge before her.

Planting her hands on top of the seat and hoisting herself up, Middi expected to find her bottom resting on the stool, as was her intention. However, as she rose, the stool's legs slipped from the floor, the seat tilting toward her. With a sharp smack, Middi found herself on her back lying on the sticky ground, a heavy stool having fallen along with her. She pushed the stool away, even as the men at the bar and a few girls nearby stopped to laugh.

Middi stood and turned toward the girls who had now stopped laughing. While they wore lacy nightgowns, their lips stained red and their eyes hastily smeared with charcoal, the other woman, wearing a black leather jacket, her hair short and curled, stood out from the rest.

Middi had heard about the Belles before, one of the Bastards' rival gangs, but she did not know much about them. She was sure, though, that this woman was one of them.

The woman, her lips lined flawlessly in red and her eyebrows thin and sharp, turned toward Middi, a smile forming on her face.

Middi did not like that look. It was the same look that a wolf gives a rabbit before mercilessly devouring it with one snap of its jaws.

The strange woman beckoned her over.

As Middi approached, the woman looked her up and down, one hand on her hip, and another lightly caressing a silver pistol in its holster. The other two girls huddled against each other, standing slightly away from them. Middi glanced at them, but both looked away as soon as her gaze reached their faces.

Standing in front of the unknown woman, Middi took a deep breath, attempting to look her in the eye. She could not, however, stop herself from trembling.

"Lookin' for a job?" the woman asked. The two girls giggled, just as the other two had before.

"Um, no, I--"

"You sure?" The woman raised her painted eyebrows. "I'm thinkin' there are plenty of men out there lookin' for your type. You know, that small, innocent, helpless look. And the baby fat 'round your cheeks is perfect."

"No," Middi murmured, looking downward. "I - I just - I'm lost and--"

"Yeah, no shit hun."

Middi's gaze drew upward again at the woman's half-smile.

"What's your name?"

"Middi--"

"What, Mini? Seriously?" The woman took a step backward, slapping her knee.

Middi willed herself to think back to the scuffle she'd had only hours ago. She took down a grown man. This was just an average sized human woman. She shouldn't be scared. But still, when she looked up at her painted face and ink-black curls, Middi couldn't help but attempt to shrink down into nothing but a small speck of dust on the floor.

"No, it's--"

"Hey, 'Mini and Mo'!" The courtesan on the left laughed, drawing even more smiles from the nearby patrons. "Eeny Meeny Mini Mo!" The two girls held each other drunkenly, nearly snorting as their laughter filled the room. "Eeny Meeny Mini Mo! Eeny Meeny Mini Mo!" they chanted, noting Middi's face, which had turned a bright crimson.

"Middi! My name's Middi!" she blurted. Mo took a dramatic step backward, putting her hand on her heart. "Alright, alright. Calm down there--"

"Eeny Meeny Middi Mo! Eeny Meeny Middi Mo! Eeny Meeny Middi Mo!" the girls chanted.

"Rosette, Violet, ain't you got some customers to fuck? And Rosie, hun, you'd better meet quota tonight, or you'll find yourself sleeping outside in the dirt." The woman shooed the girls away before turning back to Middi.

"You know who I am?" she asked.

Middi shook her head, opening her mouth to answer.

"I'm Mo." The woman leaned down a bit, her face nearing Middi's. Noting the lack of recognition, Mo sighed. "I'm Mo. As in Moira Amour." Still nothing. "For shit's sake, you've never heard of me? What neighborhood are you from, anyway?" Middi hesitated. "Whatever, I don't really care where you're from." Mo waived her hand a few times, sending the scent of cheap perfume wafting through the tobacco smoke-filled air. "As long as you're not a Bastard, a Blackheart, or broke, then you're fine with me." Mo nodded thoughtfully, fidgeting with the bright pink ribbon tied around her neck. "And if you're a thief or anything, we're cool unless you steal from the Belles. 'Cause then we'd have to hunt you down, and you'd probably find yourself workin' here for real."

Mo scanned Middi up and down once more, a mischievous smirk on her face. She narrowed her eyes.

"So, what brings you here, Middi? It's not too often I see your kind around, and I don't think I've ever met a dwarf woman. Only those smuggler buffoons."

"Well, I'm a half-dwarf actually--"

Mo threw her head back, her mouth opening wide in a deafening cackle.

"So, which one fucked a dwarf? Mommy or Daddy?" Mo leaned forward, grabbing her legs as she snorted at the ground.

Middi hesitated. Of course the woman didn't actually expect her to answer that, right?

"No, no, don't answer that," Mo said between sobs. She grabbed Middi's arm, snorting once again.

Middi waited patiently, and after about fifteen seconds or so, Mo finally recovered from her laughing fit, assuming the heir of 'boss lady' once again.

"So, really. What are you doing here?" Mo put on her business face, which was, Middi had to admit, a bit intimidating.

"I - I'm looking for--" Middi stopped, shutting her mouth suddenly. She couldn't tell this woman, a member of the Belles, that she was looking for the Bastard Aristocrats. But she didn't know anyone in this part of town, did she?

A tanned and freckled face popped into Middi's head. Ebony curls and shining eyes, bright as the sun. A memory from the past.

"I'm looking for Lia. Do you know her?" Middi pursed her lips. She knew almost nothing about Lia. Not even a last name.

"Yeah, I might know her," Mo replied to Middi's surprise.

"Really? Where is she?"

Mo studied Middi over for what seemed like the twentieth time, one hand on her hip and another lightly holding her chin. Her sharp pink nails shone like claws in the shadowy light of the brothel.

"How do you know her?" Mo asked.

Middi stared up at the woman with wide eyes. What was she supposed to say? Mo sighed.

"How about this then--why are you looking for her? What do you want with her?"

"I - I - eh - I - want - uh--" Middi studdered.

"Where did you see her last? When?"

"Er--" Her voice caught in her throat.

"Then, I can't help you," Mo answered crisply. "Now, if you're not going to work or buy something, please get out of my brothel."

Mo turned on her heel.

"Wait!" Middi cried.

The woman sighed.

"What?"

It wouldn't hurt to tell this one woman the truth, right? Or maybe she should lie?

Mo had turned once again to face the half-dwarf.

"What?"

"I - I met her, Lia, at the Billingsley Manor. In Founder's Row. She worked as a maid there. Me too. We were both maids there. At Billingsley Manor." Middi could feel her muscles tensing as the fought the urge to simply turn and run from the building.

"Maids?" Mo repeated.

"Yes. At the Billingsley Manor. In Founder's Row."

"Uh huh." Mo nodded, a blank expression on her face. She said nothing for a while, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, but then her eyes lit up.  "Ah, well," she started, putting both hands on her hips. "If I put out word that you're looking for her, do you think she'd come to you?"

"Yeah," Middi said, attempting to put on her best face. "Yeah, we were really close. She was so great to me. Like a sister." She hoped it was convincing enough.

"Uh huh," Mo repeated. After another moment of silence, the woman straightened up, clapping her hands together, her long nails clicking as they made contact with each other. "Alright, well, how about this--I'll put word out that you're looking for Lia, and in the meantime--you need someplace to stay?"

Middi nodded, barely holding down the excitement building in her throat. What had she just done? Was Lia that important?

"I'll get you a room, food, girls if you want. All of that. How's that sound?"

"Great!" Middi finally let the excitement settle on her face. "But why?"

Mo gave Middi another half-smile, the wolfish aura creeping back into her features.

"Lia's a good friend of mine," she said. "I think it would be fantastic if she came here for a visit."

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

Middi attempted to rest amid the strange mix of the muffled crowd below and the rhythmic concoction of thumping, moaning, slapping, and grunting coming from the other side of either wall of her rented room.

She yawned. She wanted to sleep, but it seemed there was no peace here in the slums. Middi peeked behind a dusty curtain out the window and at the scene below. Nothing but drunken men and shady figures circling the brothel like vultures. They ruled the streets after dark.

Sitting back on the bed, Middi sighed. She let her eyes scan the wrinkled sheets and stained pillows, shuddering at the thought at what might lurk in those fibers. Perhaps it would be better to just sleep on the floor. A cockroach skittered from underneath the bed and made its way across the floorboards, disappearing into a small space in the wall.

Maybe she could just stay awake all night. Sitting on the edge of a dirty bed and staring at a crumbling wall, encircled by the cries of sad women forced into a life made to please sad men.

But the longer she sat there, still and quiet, the more the unsteady foundation on which she had built her new dream, wobbled and warped, threatening to give way at any moment.

What was she thinking? What was she doing here? Sitting in a dirty brothel in one of the worst parts of the city. Before this, she was hardly allowed to go outside. She wasn't allowed to have any friends that didn't work for her father, which meant that all of her friends had been servants and maids.

Like Lia.

Lia's image flashed into Middi's mind again. It was Lia who had started everything. She planted these thoughts into Middi's head--Sweet Little Middelyn, who, before she met Lia, had loved walks through the garden, dressing up for fancy dinners, and playing the piano for guests. She had loved how they clapped for her afterward. As if she were someone important. Someone with a special gift. Someone to look up to.

The first time Lia had convinced Middi to leave the house without her father's permission, the half-dwarf only took a few steps before running back through the door. When her father came home, she confessed her crime immediately--though, she never mentioned that Lia was involved.

The second time, Lia took Middi to the garden. They stopped in front of the roses, admiring them in silence.

"I would love some of these roses in my room," Middi had said. "Will you cut some for me?"

Lia opened her mouth, letting out her light, careless laugh, high and fluttering like a butterfly.

"Why don't you cut them?" Lia fished through her apron, emerging with a pair of scissors. "Here," she said, handing them to Middi.

The half-dwarf took a step back, looking from the scissors to the roses and then back to the scissors.

"But roses have thorns!" Middi cried. "What if I hurt myself?"

"Oh, it won't be too bad," Lia replied, folding her arms over her chest. "Not even as bad as a papercut."

Middi stared at the woman blankly. Lia frowned.

"You've never gotten a papercut before?"

Middi shook her head.

"Just cut the roses. Or don't. You're the one who wants them."

Lia had turned, sauntering away and leaving a frozen Middi in front of the rosebushes, a small pair of scissors in hand.

---

Middi's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of stomping and clapping coming from downstairs. Perking her ears, Middi listened carefully, noting the lyrics. The tune sounded familiar, but she was not sure where she had heard it before.

Well a bard went to a bar one day,

and he got a drink even though he couldn't pay

With an open tab and no gold in sight

The bard attempted a hasty flight

But he was caught by a giant man

and he said here we don't like stealin'

as the bard swiped some coins from his pouch

a green lady appeared and knocked the giant out

Buy me a drink, Mister Bard, she said

The bard obeyed, knowing that he'd be dead

If the green lady had not come along

So, he bought her a drink and then sang her a song

Oh Lady Green from the hilltops she came

Washing over the river and the dangerous plains

Let us celebrate the green lady fair

Who saved a poor bard who couldn't pay his fare

Well the bard went along, to the north he went

and camped in the forest in a small old tent

and whaddya know it started to snow

and the bard realized he couldn't feel his toes

The bard shivered and rubbed his hands

perhaps he should have brought some mittens

and the food that he'd brought to eat

he realized that it was all frozen meat

But then the green lady came along

and lit a fire with some nice dry logs

and she threw the old tent into the flare

and said lets go I'm parked right over there

Buy me a drink, Mister Bard, she said

The bard obeyed, knowing that he'd be dead

If the green lady had not come along

So, he bought her a drink and then sang her a song

Oh Lady Green from the hilltops she came

Washing over the river and the dangerous plains

Let us celebrate the green lady fair

Who saved a poor bard from hypothermia

Well the bard went along, to the south he went

And he found an old man who was trapped in a ditch

And when the man told the bard to help

the bard ran forward and got stuck in a cell

Hidden in the ground the trap had been

and now the bard was stuck with a weak old man

So he cried and he hollered as loud as he could

but around him were trees and trees are just wood

then the green lady came along with a smile

and said i'll help you but first I'll kill that crocodile

what croc? the bard said, but when he turned around

the old man had turned into a large reptile

Buy me a drink, Mister Bard, she said

The bard obeyed, knowing that he'd be dead

If the green lady had not come along

So, he bought her a drink and then sang her a song

Oh Lady Green from the hilltops she came

Washing over the river and the dangerous plains

Let us celebrate the green lady fair

Who saved a poor bard who got caught in a snare

Well the bard went along, to the east he went

But too late did he realize his money he'd spent

But off in the distance, oh what could it be?

The bard had found a money tree

As he picked the coins hanging from its branches

He didn't notice the cause of his distress

When he turned around he realized he had

been scratched by a bear who wanted him dead

Then the green lady appeared out of nowhere

And took a dagger out of her green hair

with a slash and a bash, the bear's blood flowed

Then the lady said let's go inside it is cold

Buy me a drink, Mister Bard, she said

The bard obeyed, knowing that he'd be dead

If the green lady had not come along

So, he bought her a drink and then sang her a song

Oh Lady Green from the hilltops she came

Washing over the river and the dangerous plains

Let us celebrate the green lady fair

Who saved a poor bard who was prey to a bear

Well the bard went along, to the west he went

But he didn't realize how the river bent

How do I cross this river, the bard asked himself

Then he tripped and he fell right into the swell

Down the river he tossed and he turned

Oh, how to swim, he wished he'd learned

But the green lady came and saved him again

and said, "now for that drink, my friend."

Buy me a drink, Mister Bard, she said

The bard obeyed, knowing that he'd be dead

If the green lady had not come along

So, he bought her a drink and then sang her a song

Oh Lady Green from the hilltops she came

Washing over the river and the dangerous plains

Let us celebrate the green lady fair

Who saved a poor bard from the deep river

Well the bard went along, but home he went

He realized he wasn't cut out for this shit

When he opened the door, a surprise he did see

Waiting for him at home was the Green Lady

With all of its talk about trees and green plains, Middi figured that the song had to be an old one. One from before the Great Storm.

#please read it #PLEASE #lemme know if you have any comments or questions #i'll take constructive feedback #too #thanks #gangsofolympia #middi billingsley

[arncis]

                             ❛ 𝕮𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖓’ 𝕺𝖚𝖙 𝕸𝖞 𝕮𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖙

“ι goт ѕoмe ѕĸeleтonѕ ιn мy cloѕeт and ι don'т ĸnow ιғ no one ĸnowѕ ιт ѕo вeғore тнey тнrown мe ιnѕιde мy coғғιn and cloѕe ιт, ι'ммa eхpoѕe it.”

“ι ѕaιd ι'м ѕorry мoммa! ι never мeanт тo нυrт yoυ! ι never мeanт тo мaĸe yoυ cry, вυт тonιgнт ι'м cleanιng oυт мy cloѕeт”

The formal dining area was in silence; neither Arnais nor the rest of his family members gathered at the table for breakfast felt the need to converse since the anniversary of Desmond’s death was looming over them greater than an incoming tsunami. Dessalina and her boyfriend Tristian had flown in for moral support for the upcoming week, but his sister’s presence only seemed to irk a grief-stricken Arnais even more. He used the silver fork to stabbed at the untouched ackee and saltfish before Dessalina decided to break the painful silence. “Papa Tommy has decided to retire.” Arnais posture straightened as his ears perked up. He knew one day it would be his turn to claim the Kelly’s throne but he didn’t think that day would come so soon. He hadn’t even made it to his eighteenth birthday yet. His lips parted but Dessalina continued with her short speech. “And he is passing the business down to Tristian and I.” Arnais fork dropped as his mother cast her eyes down to her plate. Ava had stopped trying to steer her children away from that dangerous lifestyle a long time ago.  There was no use in fighting with their destiny but it didn’t stop her shoulders from slumping in defeat as she forced a quick congratulations to the couple before focusing back on her dinner. Arnais, on the other hand, was livid. His thoughts flashed back to the body he caught at fifteen, that Dessalina had promised would secure his future in the empire.  

                                        𝕷𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖓 𝕰𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉

“ιт'ѕ мy lιғe, ι'd lιĸe тo welcoмe y'all тo "тнe arnaιѕ ѕнow"

Arnais could still taste metallic on the tip of his tongue as his eyes drifted to the middle-aged man formerly known as Connor spread out on a plastic tarp, naked as the day he was born. “You did what you had to do to protect our family and our legacy.” His grandfather, Papa Tommy, thick Dublin’s accent haven’t reached Arnais’ ear but the sound of a powerful electric chainsaw coming to life did. Nevertheless,his glazed browns eyes stared straight ahead, frozen on the corpse. Arnais was in a state of shock,not because he had just taken a life, but because how easy it came to him. He was numb as he plunged the machete into Connor’s skull with so much force that the blade split his head open, exposing brain matter. He had almost let out a sardonic chuckle once Connor took his last breath before clasping onto the tarp. 

Arnais didn’t enjoy the act of killing but the rush was intoxicating. It was like chasing the white horse for the first time and he’d gotten a blissful high. But like every drug, that adrenaline had ran out sending him crashing down as he watched his grandfather starting to rip away the flesh of Conner’s neck as the saw tore at his hyoid bone. For once he had felt in control, but that was short-lived as the male’s head started to detach from his shoulder. The reality of what he had done punched him right in the gut. He dropped to all fours, spewing up the bangers and mash he eaten for dinner. He could feel someone’s stare burning a hole in the back of his head. He slightly turned, connecting with his sister’s disgusted gaze. She looked at him like he was the weakest thing to cross her path. Any sympathy Arnais had for the dead associate vanished. Vacancy consumed his features as he stood back to feet, wiping the sick away from the corner of his lips. Some part of him had hoped his sister would comfort him but she was cold as always. 

It still angered him because he had committed the deadly sin in her honor.  Connor was a thieving mole who had been caught red-handed by Dessalina. He threatened to go to the authorities on her and the rest of the Kelly family and soon he found himself in one of the many infamous slaughterhouses Papa Tommy had across Europe. Dessalina was the one to put the machete in Arnais’ hand before urging him on. When he resisted, she started to belittle him making Arnais act out of rage. Now Connor was dead. “Stop being such a bitch, Arnais! His death was his own fault!” That’s what Arnais’ sister would tell him when he couldn’t sleep that night. That’s what he continues to tell himself to this present day.

“reмeмвer wнen daddy dιed and yoυ ѕaιd yoυ wιѕнed ιт waѕ мe? well gυeѕѕ wнaт, ι aм dead, dead тo yoυ aѕ can вe!” 

Arnais was seeing red. He had sacrificed his soul just to get on his grandfather’s good side after the burning of his grandparent’s estate only for the son of a bitch to give his position to somebody else who didn’t even belong to their bloodline. Suddenly, Arnais fist slammed against the glass table causing everyone to tense. He stood to his feet, wide eyes reflected everything and saw nothing. Behind them was something more intense than normal. His defined jawline clenched which everyone knew wasn’t a good sign. “The arms business is my fucking birthright! It’s always been run by the firstborn son and it will continue to be run by the firstborn son! Ya think cause Desmond’s punk ass decided to kick the bucket early, we gonna throw away a tradition that goes back to the eighteenth century?” Both women were appalled at how Arnais addressed his deceased father but Dessalina was the first to react.

“ Yuh nuh dare chat bout fi wi fadda like that!” Dessalina growled with fire in her eyes as she rose from her chair, ready to take on her deranged brother for his blatant disrespect.  

“Shut the hell up, Lina!” Arnais snapped as he charged at his sister but her boyfriend bolted out of his seat, capturing him by both of his forearms. Being restrained didn’t stop Arnais from trying to get to Dessalina. He fought against Tristian as his sharp tongue continued to cut at his sister. “I can talk about him however I want because I was there! Yall got the news over the phone but I saw it all! I didn’t get a heads up that my fadda’s guts would be spilling out that day!”

Dessalina eyes flashed with horror before the fire in them died, roaming all over Arnais agony-stricken features that were contorted with anger. She realized this wasn’t just about the family’s business, her little brother was reliving everything at once. Their father’s death and all the well-kept secret between the two of them. “Arnais don-” 

 "No Lina! No! I watched the flames lick his skin as he laid there motionless. I watched him scream my name just before his entire left side was crushed into nothing but flesh, blood, and metal! I watched it all Lina, every single moment so don’t sit here and tell me what I can and cannot say about my goddamn father! He didn’t even try to fight death, he let me watch him burn!“ He let out a bitter laugh, hollow like the hole in his heart. "I watched our fada burn to death and with that haunting me, you decided to coach me into becoming a murderer just like you coached me into burning down our grandparent’s house because you blamed them for his death! I-" 

“Enough!” Ava screamed out as tears rapidly pooled around the rims of her eyes as her entire body shook. Immediately, an overwhelming sense of remorse made Arnais clamp his mouth shut. He’d never spoken to his mother about how her husband had perished, always choosing to spare her the gruesome memory that he relived in every nightmare. But it had to come out someday just like the truth about Dessalina. Arnais was, in fact, a pyromaniac with borderline personality disorder, but his actions weren’t always because of his impulses. Dessalina had a way of manipulating him; she knew Arnais could be vulnerable and she took advantage of that every chance she got, making him do her dirty work. Everyone thought he was the second coming of the anti-christ, including his own mother, when really it was his sister who was the deadly sociopath. She had been mentally and sometimes physically abusing Arnais throughout their childhood. The random burn marks, bruises, and cuts people use to discover across his body wasn’t from self-harm, but the doing of his own biological sister.  She’d even gone as far as stuffing half a bottle of pills down his throat days after Desmond’s funeral, which was labeled his first suicide attempt at the age of nine. Years and Years he endured her torture without saying a word because all he wanted was for Dessalina to love him as much as he loved her, but finding out that she had snatched his heir from beneath his feet was the last straw. He wanted to kill her right where she stood, but Arnais couldn’t focus on his hatred for his sister when their mother was crumbling right before their eyes. 

"Ma?” He whispered hoarsely but she wasn’t listening. A suffocating moment of silences went by before dead and dulled hazel eyes filled with grief meet with the three people watching her. “G-get o-out” Ava managed to stutter in a low whisper.

“ “Mummy, we need to talk about-" 

 She cut Dessalina off “I said get the fuck out of my house! All of you need to leave now!”  Her mother’s voice made Dessalina think again about approaching her. Ava’s entire face had shut down, devoid of all emotions but grief as her bottom lip quivered.

Defeated, Arnais ripped himself from Tristian’s hold and retreated out the door and to his car, mentally beating myself up for lashing out while his mother was present. He started driving aimlessly around Beverly Hills. His breathing was erratic and forceful, filling the silence in the car with whimpers that slowly turned into sobs. He pulled into a random parking lot before he held a hand over his mouth, trying to stop his tears by blinking but it was no use. He wanted so badly to blame Dessalina for pushing him into the hole he was in, but somehow his father face clouding his vision was the burning in his veins at the moment. If Desmond hadn’t died, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did for The Kelly Family. Maybe Dessalina’s abuse wouldn’t have escalated. Maybe Arnais wouldn’t be the empty shell he was now. 

#❛ 「 𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔰 」⇄ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊𝖉 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 #❛ 「 𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔰 」⇄ 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖕𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 #tw: murder/violence #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: gore #probably some more tws because I was watchin killer kids #I get off early today #so I might be on after 9

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Cyberverse 17 watch! (EDIT: AND CYBERVERSE 18 WATCH)

Cyberverse 17 

RATCHET!!! CHROMIA!!! WHEELJACK!!! ARCEE!!! OPTIMUS!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

DONT TEASE ME LIKE THIS CYBERVERSE

Gosh I’m so used to it being just Bee and Windblade though, I wanna see the other characters but at the same time I’m 100% happy to have 10 more seasons of the “Bee and Windblade best friend show”

Nice art gallery Grimlock

AH YES....BIG LIKELIHOOD THAT THE ARK CRASHED IN THE WATER...

Oh it crashed in a swamp WELL THAT”S MARGINALLY BETTER

OH LMAO GRIMLOCK WAS WRONG. WELL. I GUESS WE’RE BACK TO SQUARE ONE, gotta go steal a boat now you guys

OK SO IT IS PROBABLY STILL ON LAND SOMEWHERE Jeez louise teletran

HELL YEAH PACIFIC NORTHWEST

AH YES AND THERE”S THE LITTLE SHOCKLET pls don’t get squished little buddy

I LOVE SHOCKWAVE’S VOICE BUT HEARING HIM SAY “MY PLAN HAS WORKED” IN THAT SERIOUS VOICE WITH THAT EXPRESSION CRACKS ME UP. GOSH I LOVE SHOCKWAVE

SHADOWSTRIKER JUST SAID “FOOLS” RIGHT AFTER THAT IN A DELIGHTED VOICE AND I JUST SNORTED SO LOUDLY, GOSH I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH THE BAD GUYS ARE SUCH DORKS

I’ve said this before but Shockwave’s like a prime-time big villain capable of terror and destruction, but he’s stuck in a children’s show so he can’t actually accomplish any of that and I am loving it

Wait who’s steering the WHY WOULD YOU LET TELETRAN STEER THE PLANE

OHH IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE MOUNT ST HELENS??? YOOOO

Seekers: *drop out of the sky and grab windblade’s wings* Me: *WINCES*

MAN those are sturdy wings though oh my gosh. Glad Windblade’s such a tough gal

Seekers: *grab her turbines* Me: *CRINGES AND YELLS ‘’OH NO’’ OUT LOUD*

DONT YOU DARE HURT WINDBLADE LEAVE HER ALONE!!!

WHEW oh thank goodness NOW GO HELP THE BOYS WINDBLADE

AWH GRIMLOCK CAUGHT BEE IN HIS TINY LITTLE DINO ARMS THAT”S SO ADORABLE....

“Grimlock save Bumblebee. Grimlock hero” YOU SURE ARE BUD

LMAO HE JUST CHUCKED BEE??? ALRIGHT THEN

Bee: *whips out his stinger blade and jumps on the seeker* Me: Oh man is he gonna cut them in half??? Bee: *electrocutes them and jumps off* Me: Ah right this is a kid’s show Seeker: *falls out of the sky and explodes a second later behind some trees* Me: WELL. ALRIGHT I GUESS THEY”RE DEAD

LMAO POOR THUNDERCRACKER, IM SO SORRY BUD

STARSCREAM!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHH ITS HIM

I WAS WONDERING WHEN HE”D POP UP AGAIN

“The quickest way to the Ark is through these lava tombs!” Teletran I JUST DON”T TRUST YOU MY DUDE

LMAO rest in frickin pieces Windblade and Bee, Grimlock’s probably super heavy

GRIMLOCK CAN YOU PLEASE NOT MONOLOGUE RIGHT NOW I CAN TELL SOMETHING’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN TO YOU

WHAT DID I SAY!!!

Grimlock pls your friends don’t need this kind of stress

WOW THE ARK ACTUALLY LOOKS OK??? SORTA???

AW!!! THAT HUG!!! THAT SPIN HUG!! IM GONNA CRY, CYBERVERSE YOU”RE KILLING ME WITH ALL THESE SWEET HUGS IM LOVING IT

WHAT NO YOU CAN”T END IT THERE!! PLEASE LET 18 BE OUT ALREADY

YES YES I FOUND IT, OK HERE WE GO, CYBERVERSE 18

MAN I was about to be so distraught IM SO GLAD 18 IS OUT

WAIT WTF SHOCKWAVE HOW THE HECK DID YOU GET THERE SO FAST Did Grimlock monologue long enough for you to catch up

Baby shocklet noooooo you were supposed to get adopted by the Autobots

yoOOOO SHOCKWAVE TRANSFORMED!!! HE”S A HUGE SHOCKLET wait does this mean all the baby shocklets can transform into tiny Shockwaves??? Probably not but IMAGINE IF THEY COULD.....

PAPA SHOCKWAVE AND HIS TINY KIDS....

Shockwave should let his kids have playdates with Soundwave’s kids wAIT DOES SOUNDWAVE EVEN HAVE HIS KIDS IN THIS UNIVERSE??? MAN

I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THAT it’d be really cool to see Ravage / Rumble / Frenzy / Lazerbeak in another series but idk if they’re gonna make an appearance in Cyberverse :(

Ok anyways, back to the show

LMAO IT LOOKS LIKE THEY RAN PAST EACH OTHER FOR A SECOND Bee, one of you guys should go wake up the other Autobots / see if anyone’s still on the ship!! What if no one’s on there!!!

Oh man you know what I JUST realized??? In the intro, Hot Rod is driving behind Optimus. ~~~~Symbolism~~~~

Awh she just punched the gun out of Bee’s hand. I don’t know why but that made me laugh, just the sound she made when she did it was funny

THERE WE GO TELETRAN thank goodness SOMEONE took my advice lmao

BEE’S LITTLE WINK IS SO CUTE...CYBERVERSE BEE IS ADORABLE!!!! BUMBLEBEE I’D DIE FOR YOU

yoOOOO WINDBLADE’S TAKING ON SHOCKWAVE!!! KICK HIS BUTT 

AW MAN I”M NOT EVEN THAT BIG OF A FAN OF TELETRAN BUT EVEN I GASPED WHEN HE WAS SHOT IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SELF-SACRIFICING “IT”S FOR THE GREATER GOOD” SPEECH

HOLY HECK SHADOWSTRIKER JUST PUNCHED A FRICKIN T-REX, I LOVE HER

hoHOOOOHOOOOOO I LOVE THAT DECEPTICON WARSHIP

wHAT NO DONT ABANDON THE ARK

HELL YEAH, ATTABOY

OK NOW JUST...DONT DROP THE SHIELDS

they gotta get out of there before magma covers the entire ship, because if that hardens it’ll be impossible for them to get out

WHAT IF THE STASIS PODS OPEN AND NO ONE’S IN THEM

GASP OPTIMUS!!!!!

HE HUGGED OPTIMUS!!! SOBS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU CYBERVERSE FOR DELIVERING ALL THE HUGS

HE DOESN”T LET GO, HE JUST CLOSES HIS EYES AND HUGS OPTIMUS TIGHTER, IM REALLY GONNA CRY

BATTLE MASK OPTIMUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT EPISODE THAT”S SUCH A CLIFFHANGER

#i talk #I'm watching Transformers #I'm watching Cyberverse #Cyberverse spoiler / #primordial robot hell

[mallow-vrinn-akkar]

The Return

Mallow awoke to Kiawe brushing his fingers across her cheek. The stars were still shining, the moon lower in the sky now. Day must be approaching. How long had she been there?

She didn't try to set up, instead letting out a breath, and smiling at Kiawe. "I can't believe I did that." she reached up, touching his hand.

"Neither can I, but I'm glad we did." he said, moving forward and kissing her. Mallow felt the butterflies in her stomach, her heart beat faster. The pull to stay here, and not go home was getting palpable. It had been so long, though, that she was sure everyone would think her dead. She couldn't let that happen to Senlok.

"I have to go home." she said, more for herself than him. She had to go, or she didn't think she ever would.

"Are you sure?" Kiawe looked to her. "I know we moved fast, but in our talks earlier, I do care about you." Kiawe couldn't think straight. He didn't want to risk her going back down there. Especially with everything Mallow had told him of this place, it was so dangerous.

"My Great-Grandfather is down there. My brothers. I cannot abandon them. But, I know what you mean. I really enjoyed our talk as well. It's a fight within me, because I don't want to leave. But, my family has been the only thing that got me this far. I can't abandon them now."

Kiawe looked at her for a long moment before nodding his head. "I understand." he started to stand, putting his hand out to her. Mallow enjoyed the feeling of the grass against her back, but she reached up, holding tight to his hand while he lifted her into his arms. She was comforted by his warmth, and the feeling of his chest against her hands. "We can meet again, right? I can tell you more about the society up here, and you can update me on Senlok and your brothers."

"Yes." she said, standing up on her toes to kiss him.  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer into him. "I don't know when, but yes."

"I'll hide in plain sight. Every night, I'll be waiting." he kissed her again.

She didn't want to leave him. She wanted to stay, to love him longer. It wasn't meant to be. Mallow and Kiawe were both getting dressed, Mallow donned her armour. She secured her weapons.

"It will be okay." Kiawe finally said, watching her. "It will be. Every night, no matter what you need, I'll be there for you, I swear."

Mallow wrapped her arms around him, kissing him. He picked her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. They kissed like that for a while before she put her forehead to his. He let her down, and took her hand.

They walked back to his horse, and he set her on it, hopping up behind her. She enjoyed being so close to him. She wished she could stay there, that time would freeze, and she would have nothing to worry about. That's not how these things worked, though, and she knew it.

They started heading back down the hill, and to his house, where they headed down a near invisible path. She watched the trees, and the flowers, glancing back at him occasionally.

"You know," he said, "there's a lake not to far from here either. Have you ever gone fishing?"

"No?" Mallow looked back at him the best she could. She could see his smile.

"Well, I'll show you the next time we meet up. The day is usually a better time to be messing with everything, but I don't want to expose yourself to it."

"I'm not a vampire, Kiawe. I'm a Drow. It's uncomfortable, extremely so, but I'm not going to die because of it."

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Kiawe, you know that I'm going to have to do most of this during the day, right? I have duties to attend to during your night. Sneaking around will have to be a daylight activity."

Mallow saw the worry on his face, then it brightened up. "Okay, I think I've got an idea."

"What's that?"

"You'll see today."

Mallow shook her head, and smiled. "Okay, can't wait."

"Neither can I. I'll wait for you." he promised, looking to the sky.

Mallow looked up as well, as they grew closer to the entrance to the Underdark.

The cave hadn't even come fully into view when Mallow held her hand up. Kiawe stopped the horse. It was hard, but Mallow looked back to him.

"I should get off here. I'll walk the rest of the way. I want to make sure they don't see you."

"Mallow..." Kiawe trailed off. He slid off the horse, helping her down.

Mallow felt her heart breaking looking up at him. The only thing she wanted to was to stand there with him for as long as she could. They embraced, and she buried her head into his chest.

She inhaled his scent. She didn't know what to do. These feelings had developed so fast. She had gone from not ever thinking about love and settling down to this. How? Did it matter? She was so happy.

Well, she would be if they weren't part of two separate worlds. She believed, though, that they could do this. Together, they could do anything.

"I'll see you soon." she whispered.

"Promise?" he asked. Mallow nodded. Just like that, Kiawe disappeared. The horse whinnied and took off into the woods. Instead of a man, there was a falcon, which took to the sky, flying closer to the entrance.

Mallow grinned, and headed that way at a run, as if to catch up with Kiawe.

He landed in a tree, and she gave a small wave, trying to hide it as she ran into the entrance.

Her heart pounded, between the run and the fear of what awaited her. She didn't get far before she had guards rushing to her. At first, they had weapons raised, but when they realized who it was, they lowered them.

"Mallow? I thought you were... We all thought you were dead." The guard was looking at her in shock, and she shook her head.

"Not for the lack of their trying." she said. She straightened up, took a deep breath, and looked around. The break from the game was done. Showing weakness would give them something to exploit.

Mallow started heading off, leaving the shocked guards behind her. The news of her death had spread. Senlok would be worried sick. Or, already preparing for her burial.

She knew she was supposed to die out there. Coming back made things harder. She could have gotten out. She could have stayed with Kiawe. She needed her family, though. They were just as important to her as Kiawe was. If it weren't for them, she never would have made it this far.

Few dared to come near her. Many looked to Mallow as if they were looking at a ghost. She didn't make a move to them. She followed her papa's advice, worrying about herself first. She needed to go and see him.

Walking up the steps to the noble house was difficult. She found herself wanting to run away. Still, she stayed true to her path, slowly going up them. Her noble standing had not been revoked, especially since here she was, alive and well. She did see someone rushing inside.

It wouldn't surprise Mallow if they were going in to warn the Matron Mother that she had completely failed in her mission to kill the group. When arms wrapped around her from behind, she was getting ready to fight.

"You saved me." the woman's voice threw Mallow off.

Turning she saw the Matron Mother's sister. There was gratitude in her eyes,though she knew it would not last long, Mallow did enjoy it.

"I did what I had to."

"I was certain you were dead. We all were. We owe you our lives. But, why did you distract them from us? I don't understand."

How could she not understand wishing someone else to live? In all honesty, she had taken off into the woods hoping to get away. Maybe she was hoping they would go after those on the path rather than her. Sure, she had been worried when she awoke, but at the time? Why did she go that way?

"Just doing my job." she didn't have to fake the yawn that came.

"Yes, well, I thank you. Go get yourself some sleep. You must have had a very hard time."

Mallow nodded, "Thank you, Priestess." She walked away from the woman, her mind in a fog. Even if she had said something along the lines of not wanting to see someone else die, it could come back against her. Not following the usual path that was laid out for them. Death and destruction was just normal.

Mallow opened the door to her quarters, wanting to get dressed before she found her family.

Senlok was sitting on her bed, his face buried in one of her dresses. His body was shaking, moving with silent sobs.

"Papa." she choked out, her own voice cracking. He looked up, shaking his head.

"Demons, do not torment me."

"It's me, Papa. I'm not dead, I'm right here. I swear." her heart broke seeing the distrust on his face. His tear filled eyes watched her.

"I've seen you, heard you even since they came to me. I know you are a vision. My girl is dead." his voice cracked, the strain of his emotions too much.

"No, Papa, it's me." she felt the tears falling, her voice threatening to give into the sobs.

Senlok stood, looking so old and tired. He shakily headed towards her, and touched her face. "Papa. Why do you always call me that?"

"Because you are my papa. I don't know what I'd do without you. Please, I'm real."

"You're warm..." he hesitated before the betrayal finally left his eyes, and he picked her up, wrapping his arms around her so tightly she could hardly breathe. "Mallow, my dear girl."

"Yes, Papa." Her head was swirling, she couldn't pick out anything to say. She just cried with Senlok. The two held each other, tears falling. The silence between them broken by quiet sniffling.

#dungeons and dragons #d&d #roleplay #rp #original character #drow #rogue #dark elf #writing #my writing #creative writing

[izzycelyddon]

Return to the nest. Pt 1.

It is time.

Izzy had this planned for weeks. Ems words about being careful rang through her mind as she mounted the raven that had been waiting for her. Bags strapped onto its feathered body. Her breath could be seen in the early morning hours. She still hasn’t been able to fully restrain herself. Knowing this she fears what might come for this meeting. The punishment. Harsh. Full insubordination usually results in  torturous methods resulting in death. Something she knew well as she has dealt such things to many in her career with this organization.

Back to the nest I go.

Izzy was in full armor and mask. She stayed in her human form along with her hooded tattered cloak that she wears for missions. The trip was icy cold, her body felt like death had taken over every inch. She scrunched into herself for the whole ride, even trying to press her body against the giant bird for warmth. She didn’t shiver as this trip she was used to. The long hours hanging on to the giant raven were taxing until she found the familiar opening in the mountains in the north. The opening was small and unnoticeable from the ground. Even with flying, you’d have to know what to spot. After many hours the bird dipped low, gliding through the narrow entrance with ease. “OI!” She called as the workers handled packaging waved over to her. She jumped down, landing sturdy on her feet “Oi ye bunch o’ bastards, I missed ya.” She said as they gathered around her. Small bickering and banter until her eyes caught the ginormous body from the entrance to the main hall. “Ems!” She called out. jumped into the mans arms “Papa, I’ve returned fer tha’ meetin’.” His face became more stone like as she spoke “Aye, the meeting. I will be bumped up in just a couple of hours. Make yerself at home Isa. Yer room as always not touched besides the regular dusting.” She nodded “Aye Ems. Seems as things will be grim from ‘ere on.” Izzy had taken notice of the expression change from the man, the warning from earlier weeks seemed to have proven themselves true. Walking down the halls. Quick greetings, hugs and punches exchanged as she drew near her room. The door, unlocked without struggle as she pushed the creaky wooden door open. A small warm smile as she looked at her old room. She was given special liberties with it becoming a favorite among the others around. A rather large bed (cali king sized) with purple satin sheets and warm thick black blanket on top. The design was that of the raven crest that adorned her flask. She ran her fingers on the soft material. “Just like how I left ya.” She said as she dropped her bags onto the cold stone. Her bare feet made little noise as she walked about her room. Pictures strung up of her victory kills covered half of a wall. A desk on the other. She threw herself on the bed, eyes heavy as she felt the warmth of the blanket.

“Isa”

The burly man softly shook Izzy awake from her unexpected slumber. Dreams of seeing her husband stabbed still heavy on her mind. She shot awake. “Arthas!” She gasped, heavy breathing as the man looked at her concerned “Ya okay?” Nodding “Aye, I’m okay Ems. just uh.. nightmare.” Head shaking as she jumped right to her feet realizing why she was being woken up “Is it time?” Grimm faced the man turned to her “Yes. I will head out first. Be careful my little one. Aye?” A simple nod as she reached for her ceremonial leathers. A quick change. Now adorning dark, burgundy leathers. Pins holstered on her chest as she put her hair up in the usual fashion. Her dream only making her unhinge even more. Her wolfish features she couldn’t hide. Forest green almost glowing eyes, canines protruding, and claw like nails. “This isn’t bodin’ well at all and it ‘asn’t even started.” A dreading sigh as she walked through the stone walls to the main hall. Empty. Her foot steps echoes as she arrived. A row of main seats at the furthest wall of the room. Multiple rows of seats and tables of either side of the walk way down. There before the huge row was a podium of sorts. She walked right onto it. There was a total of seven in the councilor's seats. Ems being one of them who sat right in the middle. The burly man rose. He wore the ceremonial wolfs cloak as he raised a hand to signal silence. “Now then lets get started shall we.” His boasting laugh as it echoed through. “Shadowfang Isalla Celyddon. You have been called in to review your position within our ranks. You have come back from.. childbirth. Is this correct.” Izzy stood proud “Aye, birthed me two troublemakers tha' will take after me.” The room broke out in hushed laughter as she smirked. Hints of her canines clear. “Now the bigger question.” Ems took a breath before speaking once more.

“Will you return to your post starting now after all’s said and done.”

The room quieted as all eyes fell on the small red head. “I shall stay in tha main city as I wus. I ‘ave entered a new organization ta fill time an grow our connections.” She stood confident until hushed murmurs filled the halls. Panicked whispers as her ears twitched trying to catch it all. The elders looked towards each before the one on the furthest left rose to speak. This was a middle aged man. Well toned, scar on his left eye with back hair. “Are the stories true of spies infiltrating our nest?” Izzy raised a brow “Wot? This is news ta me. Wot has gone on while I wus away?” The look of confusion on her face as she looked to each of her bosses. “Aye. A rat. Ya be sure its no’ yerself. Playin us with such staged talk.” Said the woman on Ems’ right side. “Don’ be preposterous, she of all people wouldn’t betray us.” Ems defended Izzy. “Child tell me. Are you abandoning us? Yer roots? Yer saviors?” His worn eyes squinted at Izzy as the woman as arms crossed over his chest. He awaited his answer. A small sigh escaped her full lips “I want ta stay with my family. I will no’ abandon my ravens, just I’ve created a life. Normal life wi-” The bearded man to Ems’ left slammed a fist into the table. silverware rattled from its vibrations. “There is no leaving us. Once you enter. The only way to leave is death.” Chants among the others as she watched in silence of their celebrated raven. Death. “Is there no’ other way out? Fer all I’ve sacrificed an done fer all o’  ya.” Izzy pleaded, her mind giving way to her feral side. Trying to fight she shook her head as if she could shake away the impulses that came with that side of her. “Aye. Celebrated for all your victories. Which is why you must not leave. Once a raven, always a raven.” His words stern that escaped his bearded lips. “I will always be a raven. But I want to stay within tha city. Crucial point in my beein there.” She couldn’t stop herself. Hands gripped at the wooden bars in front. Coming close to changing as she kept hearing them all chant for her death. “A spy has broken in, and you think it be wise to let you go loose. The only one to constantly be around such prying eyes. How are you not followed? Spilled secrets? Tell me Isalla. Have you compromised us in any way.” His raising tone felt like lashes against her skin. She stood her ground. Eyes glowing more the further she sank. “I ‘ave no’ an will no’ reveal my family! Be wise to know this. All o’ ya. This is my home I will never do harm to it.” She growled as she spoke. The anger of being accused of such. “We know of what type you are. We’ve heard of your bedding habits. Not so sneaky there. You have become dull. Unsharpened. Lacking since you’ve gone. And now you dare, dare growl at your elders.” He waved a hand, calling in for the guards that were posted close by. The familiar friendly faces now hardened. Unrecognizable as they approached.

Izzy took a step back. No, I must take this. She stood ready yet her inner rage only building. Snarls aimed at the guards as they approached. She didn't reach her daggers, no. Her sharpened claws ready as they came, taking a defensive stance towards them. The feeling of being enclosed. Threatened by the weapons and restraints closing in. No second thought as she pounced on the smaller guard, changing mid-pounce. A violent struggle broke out as several other, rather big hulking men tried to restrain the now furred woman. Growls and snarls from the woman now lost to her unhinged side. Finally the hilt of a great-sword came crashing down to the back of her head. Body numbed as her focus waned. Blurred vision as she watched herself fall to the floor. Sound as if was being drowned out from her ears. Fuzzy boots slowly approach from what she could make out, "Take her to a cell." The voice of that of the bearded man. Even still putting up a fight she snarled until as saw the hilt come back down onto her. 

Black out.

#wrymrest accord #rp #ic post #izzy #catchup

[mafiabosstsuna]

If the ask box is open how about tsuna xanxus and hibari's reaction of their daughter shooting them on their legs for cheating on their mother and making her sad

- There was something infinitely satisfying about writing this. Thanks, Anon. (^_^)v

~admin Adelheid

Tsuna

Clothes that reeked of wine and smoke and a body drenched in another woman’s perfume. It had become such a regular occurrence now that no one batted an eyelash at him anymore. Not that anyone would dare. 

Tsuna tossed his suit jacket to his butler as per usual before entering his study to get some cognac before bed. It had been a satisfying night filled with fun and entertainment. The woman who came on to him at the bar was pretty frisky too. All in all it was a pretty enjoyable evening.

Until he entered his study and got a hole in the leg.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD?! SON OF A―”

The sound echoed in the entire mansion like thunder and Gokudera rushed in, leading Tsuna’s bodyguards, guns at the ready, prepared to shoot the bastard who dared harm their Boss. But they all stopped when they all saw who was holding the smoking gun. It was hard to miss the glowing golden eyes of the twelve year old girl who looked like the feminine version of her father.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, BRAT?!” Hayato exploded. He would have walked over and cuffed the girl on the back of the head if it weren’t for the fact that she was still holding the business end of that gun straight at her father. “WHAT THE FUCK?! WERE YOU SO STUPID YOU FORGOT TO PUT THE SAFETY ON?! You! Call the Lawn-head! Tell him there’s been an accident!”

But something in your eyes told Tsuna this was anything but an accident. There was something dead serious in the eyes of the daughter he loved very much. It was there in the tearstains on her cheeks. In the utter sadness and rage he could see in his little girl’s eyes. But the thing that caught him the most was the utter exhaustion in those eyes that were the mirror image of his.

“Darling?” he started warily, trying to stand up. “Sweetie..? What’s wrong?”

“Mamma tried to kill herself today,” you replied as you leaned against his desk gingerly, gun still in your hands, steady and trained to shoot. “I hope you’re happy.”

The words froze Tsuna and Hayato. A child your age would have should have sounded hysterical and in a panic. Not this exhausted, nor this derisive.

“I tried to call you but you didn’t pick up,” you continued in a sigh, the dim light treating them to the sight of dark circles under your eyes. “I called Uncle Hayato and he said you were busy but it was pretty easy to figure out from the noise in the background that you were in a bar again.”

“Honey, that’s not true, Papa was work―”

“Shut up before I shoot your other leg.” You cut him off.

Tsuna stayed quiet.

Gokudera, however bristled. “HEY, BRAT! THAT’S NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR FATHER!”

“Oh shut up, Uncle Hayato, you’re as guilty as he is because you always let him do whatever he wants. My mother trying to kill herself earlier is as much your fault as it is his.”

The bomber’s jaw clamped shut at the tired but firm words.

“Honey, you don’t understand,” Tsuna tried again. “You’re still too young―”

“I’m old enough to know that you’re acting like a pig, Papa.” Again Tsuna gaped at his daughter’s words and how you dared to utter words that would have gotten other people killed already just by muttering them. “I still love you despite all that. You’re the only father I’ve got. Despite all your faults you’re good to me and that’s fine. What I can’t understand is how you can’t even find the courtesy to at least check your pockets for other women’s panties before you come back home. Seriously, is that too much to ask for? Mamma was okay living in denial until she saw one of the maids pull your whore’s underwear out of your pants pocket. She gave everyone a smile, made sure we had dinner then locked herself in her room to overdose on her anti-depressants. It’s a good thing Aunt Chrome came by. She knew somehow. She’s with Mamma at the hospital right now. I wanted to stay but she told me to get some rest.

Tsuna swallowed, shame climbing into his throat and blocking his breathing.

You sighed, a tear chasing down your cheek but you hurriedly wiped it away with the back of your hand. The sight broke Tsuna’s heart. “Did you ever love my mother?”

“Of course I did.” Tsuna quickly replied.

The smile you gave him was half amused, half sorrowful. “Did?”

Silence fell in the room and made the air thick with its presence. Tsuna didn’t know what to say. When did he stop loving his wife? He wasn’t sure himself. All he knew was that her neediness, her meekness, her doll like obedience was not something he had wanted for a lifetime partner.

“If you want to shoot me because of this then go ahead, Papa, it’s fine. Just tell Mamma it was an accident.” you gave him a soft smile before leaving the gun on the table and walking away from it. “You should take him to the hospital before be bleeds out, Uncle Hayato, Uncle Ryohei went back to Japan this morning to meet his wife. Try to see Mamma while you’re there. I’m sure she’ll worry about you. Good night.”

Neither men made a move to stop you and listened to your footsteps until they were gone. After a while Tsuna sighed and combed his fingers through his hair tiredly. He cannot dispute his own daughter’s words. Sometimes it still surprised him just how innocent his child could be. How right she could be. How tainted he was compared to his dear innocent child.

“Well?” the don asked on a sigh. “What do you think of my daughter, Hayato?”

The Storm user winced as he inspected his Boss’ wound. “She made sure the bullet went through muscles and not the bone. I say as expected of someone trained by Reborn, Boss.”

“Good. Then maybe she’ll be a better Donna than I am at being a Don.”

Xanxus

BANG!

“THE FUCK! MY LEG! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, BRAT?!”

“YOU’RE MY PROBLEM, FUCKING OLD MAN!”

“MIND YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!”

“SCREW YOU!”

“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SO GODDAMNED PISSED, BRAT?!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE A GODDAMN IDIOT! HOW DARE YOU BRING YOUR FUCKING WHORE IN THE HOUSE?! SHE MADE MOM USHER HER TO THE DOOR LIKE SHE WAS A GODDAMNED MAID! IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE FACT THAT SHE LOVES YOU SO GODDAMNED MUCH I’D HAVE SHOT YOU IN THE FUCKING HEAD, YOU ASSHOLE! I’M TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW IF I EVER CATCH ONE OF YOUR WHORES IN THE HOUSE, I WILL FUCKING SHOOT HER BRAINS OUT! NOBODY GETS TO TREAT MY MOTHER LIKE THAT, YOU HEAR ME?! ESPECIALLY NOT ONE OF THOSE GODDAMN SLUTS WHO OPENS THEIR GODDAMNED LEGS AS SOON AS YOU FUCKING SHOW THEM YOUR SHITTY WALLET! I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE TO GO WHORING, AS LONG AS YOU DO IT OUTSIDE AND LEAVE MY MOTHER OUT OF IT!”

Xanxus scowled after you as you stomped out the door of his office in fury, Storm Flames disintegrating things left and right. Squalo didn’t even bat an eyelash at your furious face and destructively dramatic exit. As soon as he saw his bleeding Boss he sighed at the sight of the blood.

“Voi. This is why I fucking tell you to stop getting so fucking buzzed in the strip bars. She’s going to be fifteen soon. You really want to have her kill you one day?”

“Shut the fuck up. She’s just a brat, she doesn’t know I only married her mother because my old man told me to. I’m going to do what I want to do and that’s the end of it. Now go get the fucking peacock. I think the bullet’s still in there.”

Hibari

Kyouya didn’t even think of dodging. He had come home late that night and found nothing amiss in his den. So when he saw you in his bedroom he suspected nothing.

Until the brat pulled out a gun and shot him in the leg.

He glared at you even as he stood absolutely still and straight, blood running down his leg.

“Pup,” he growled quietly at you. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Herbivore.” Was the equally cold reply.

Kyouya’s eyes narrowed at the insult. “What did you call me?”

“Herbivore.” You raised your chin at him defiantly.

Kyouya frowned. “Watch your mouth, pup. I have yet to see you best me in the dojo. Do not think that just because you have a gun in your hand that you can overpower me.”

You don’t answer and instead throw a thick envelope at his feet, spilling the contents on the carpet. Hibari frowned to see they were pictures. His eyes widened when he saw it was pictures of him and a certain geisha he had taken a liking to recently. The pictures were fairly recent. And quite explicit.

“I was playing with Hibird when I found Mother throwing them away.” Your voice was clear but quiet, and the tremor in it, although faint and would have been undetectable by others was something Kyouya cannot ignore. “According to the letter this woman wants Mother to pay her money to keep your relationship with her quiet or she will post the pictures on the internet.”

Kyouya’s mouth felt as though it had been glued shut. He didn’t know what to say.

“Father,” your quiet voice and troubled eyes made the Foundation leader clench his teeth tight in an effort to fight the shame at the thought that his own daughter had witnessed such a flaw from him. “Is this the honor that I will have to live by? When I marry… Will I be treated the same way by my husband?”

Kyouya’s eyes flashed at the very thought. He would slaughter any man who would treat his daughter in such a way!

“This makes me feel… emotional. I do not like it. I do not wish to keep seeing Mother drowning in her tears. I felt so emotional I even harmed you. Perhaps I should not feel too much, Father, but I cannot help it. I shall go and call Kusakabe to provide you with medical aid.” You put the gun down on the bed and started towards the bedroom’s door. As you pass him by, though, you couldn’t resist one more parting shot. “Father… You disappoint me.”

The closing of his bedroom door sounded like thunder in Kyouya’s ears. He stayed in the same position, wallowing in guilt and shame as he stared at the now bloody photos on the floor.

When Kusakabe found him the man gasped and immediately called for a medical kit. When he saw the pictures even his second in command looked away in shame.

“Kusakabe.”

“Yes, Kyo-san?”

“The woman seeks to blackmail me.”

“What should we do?”

“Gather all the data she has. Then burn her to the ground.”

#khr #sawada tsunayoshi #xanxus #hibari kyoya #admin adelheid #cheating tw

[providentially-demonic]

The Devil and the Dead: Chapter Two

Based on @ectoimp‘s absorbing AU sketches (Most of which can be found here!).   

I’m giving credit and kudos to @arthur-tristan-kingsmen, @phantoms-lair, @answrs and of course, the illustrious @ectoimp for some of the discourse which guided the idea from vague AU to the story that does not want to stop running through my head. And for constantly adding new cute headcanons that are promising to make this longer.

Still a blood/gore warning for this chapter.

Summary:  At first all he knew was darkness— rage, pain and the ultimate sting of betrayal.  And then Lewis opened his eyes…

Back to Chapter One 

Chapter Two: Fleeting Time

Lewis wasn’t sure how long it had been.

His watch— he’d avoided looking at his body— much— but even from here, he’d seen the giant crack across the face of the digital display in the little pink will o’wisp lights that were all around him. He didn’t know how he created them, but they answered to his wishes and were a comfort as long as he kept them from drifting too far... over there.

When after what seemed like hours, Arthur had settled into an uneasy, restless slumber, he’d dared... studiously not looking at his own face, or at the bloody rocks... to search for his cell phone. Unfortunately, it too had gone the way of his watch.

Arthur shivered and moaned softly and Lewis could only look at the broken thing in his hand. Arthur needed help, but who could he even call? He wanted Vivi’s comforting presence with a passion, but she... she was probably better off, far from them for the moment. He was... And Arthur was...

Arthur coughed and curled up into a tight ball, his small wings fluttering and stretching as if they were reaching for something, before he subsided into pained slumber. Arthur was still at war in mind and body. He didn’t dare have Vivi near— He couldn’t be hurt, but she could be. But once Arthur was himself again (he didn’t dare think otherwise) maybe they could find a way to see Vivi again.

The thought of her sent a warm feeling through him and something caught his eye, glowing softly at the base of one of the bloody spires. Cautiously, he bent and picked it up. It was his locket, the one Vivi had given him. It glowed lambently gold and pulsed like a heartbeat, and just holding it in his hands made him feel— not better— but more solid, more sure.

He cradled it close and returned to Arthur’s side, resolutely looking anywhere but the other side of the cave. When Arthur was... better, he’d move them away from the sight. Arthur shouldn’t— shouldn’t see this when... when— not if; never if— Arthur was back in his right mind.

He sat back down next to Arthur’s shaking form, pulling him back into his lap and stroking his hair soothingly. “Shhhh, amigo. I’m here. You’ll be okay.” He had to be. Lewis didn’t dare believe anything else.

He glanced regretfully at Arthur’s cell phone, completely ruined by Arthur’s blood, wishing briefly for a little reassurance of his own. He could reassure Arthur, but who was here to assure him that things would be okay?

“B-big g-guy...” Arthur’s voice was raspy and broken. He’d spent so much time screaming at the pain of his transformation, Lewis had to wonder if it was ruined permanently.

Lewis stroked Arthur’s hair back and looked into those tired eyes, aching for the pain he saw lurking there. “Here, buddy,” he whispered. “Always here.”

Arthur had been drifting in and out of consciousness, subject to fevered bouts of delirium even when awake, as he struggled with the thing inside his mind. Most of the time when he woke, he did not remember much, if anything, past the fatal fall. He spent most of the time that he was lucid so very grateful that Lewis was ‘okay.’ Lewis couldn’t tell him anything else, not when Arthur’s mental state was so very fragile, caught in an endless battle with the invading entity.

This time, Arthur seemed a little less confused, merely resting against Lewis. He leaned his head into Lewis’s stroking hand, eyes drifting shut. “H-had a n-night— nightmare,” He mumbled tiredly.

Lewis winced. Most of Arthur’s ‘nightmares’ were simply repeats of the moment on the cliff and would degenerate into Arthur crying wretched sobs until unconsciousness dragged him down again.

“Mmm,” Arthur assented sleepily. He didn’t seem to be in agony this time and for that Lewis was glad. He was painfully grateful most of the changes to Arthur’s body happened while he was unconscious. “W-was run-running from a r-really c-cranky ghost. K-kept chasing m-me, s-sayin’ I k-killed it. W-was scary.”

That was a new one, and a painful reminder of Lewis’s first remembered moment. “You’re good,” he said softly, tucking Arthur’s head against his shoulder and stroking his blond hair, taking care to avoid the growing horns that now curved back over Arthur’s skull. “You’re safe with me.”

“Know,” Arthur muttered. “A-always s-safe with y-you. Just t-tired an’ s-sore.” He shifted a little, the slender tail that had started growing from the base of his spine lashing restlessly against Lewis’s leg.

As much as he wanted Arthur awake and talking to him, Lewis knew it was only a matter of time before the transformation pains kicked in and he really didn’t want to see Arthur suffering through that fully cognizant of what was happening to his body. “Then rest,” he breathed softly. “I’ll watch over you, chase the nightmares away.”

Arthur huffed a soft, pained laugh. “No-not P-Paprika, don’ need y-you t-to chase t-the b-bogeyman away f’r me...”

Lewis smoothed a hand down his back, between the growing wings— now slightly larger than Lewis’s hands, feeling the heat Arthur radiated. He was feverish then, the fever spiking just before another agonizing spurt of transformation. He’d gotten far too used to the pattern in the last... however long it had been. “Fine, fine,” he soothed. “I’ll sing you to sleep if you don’t settle down and get some rest, bud.”

Arthur snuffled another weak laugh, but lapsed back into slumber. Shortly after, a shudder rolled down his spine and he keened softly between clenched teeth. His growing tail wrapped around Lewis’s ankle like a clinging vine, and his small wings flexed and fluttered. All Lewis could do was try to comfort him through the worst of it.

The savage tear on his left shoulder had healed at least, leaving only a scar, slightly paler green that the color that had now overtaken most of Arthur’s skin. The gaping hole in his gut was still knitting itself together, and the sight of it still turned Lewis’s stomach, because every time he saw it, all he could remember was seeing Arthur impaled on that spike, so he did his best to keep it covered with the ragged ruin of Arthur’s shirt.

Arthur curled into his lap, legs drawn up and over-long toes curled.

It hurt that he could do nothing but try to coax Arthur through the worst of it. He whispered reassurances when Arthur mumbled denials at the creature in his head and held him as carefully as he could. It was something of a relief when even in the worst of his pain, Arthur clung to him too. He stroked Arthur’s flexing back, hoping this spasm would be over soon.

His forearm brushed over one of the fluttering wings and it snapped shut around his arm like a bear-trap, thin fingers and membranes curling around his arm in a fairly strong grip for something that looked so fragile. He tried to pull away gently, ever wary of hurting Arthur’s changing body, but it clung like a limpet. Arthur whined and his face scrunched up in distress.

Lewis stilled, worried he had done something to damage Arthur, but as soon as he stopped pulling away, Arthur settled, his breathing still harsh and pained, but no longer underscored with whines. The thin tail around his ankle flexed, wrapping itself more snugly around him, as the wing gripped his arm tightly.

It was something of an epiphany for Lewis. Even though his body was transforming and there was still the creature in his mind, even these new parts of Arthur were just that— Arthur. Arthur, clinging to him in fear and pain... not the monster. The thing that had killed him would never cling like this. It gave him hope that Arthur was winning the struggle. He turned his wrist just enough to run his fingers along the thin, warm membrane in a soothing motion. The wing flexed around him and Arthur murmured softly where his face was pressed into Lewis’s chest. It seemed a much shorter time before Arthur had lapsed back into something more like normal sleep, still tucked against Lewis, but no longer hanging onto him desperately with every limb.

With Arthur somewhat settled, Lewis’s thoughts drifted back to Arthur’s comment about Paprika. God, he missed his family, almost as much as he missed Vivi. He wanted Mama’s comforting arms and the smell of spice that always seemed to cling to her; he wanted Papa’s soft voice and gentle hands and most of all he wanted his little sisters. The three of them were his comfort and his joy. He remembered Mama and Papa bringing Paprika home from the hospital, and how her tiny fingers had clung to one of his, and she had never seemed to let go.. Belle and her constant collection of scrapes and bruises for him to bandage, Cayenne, the prankster, who kept him and everyone around him on their toes. His head bent over Arthur and more faintly glowing tears dripped onto Arthur’s hair.

A soft coo and something touched his cheek.

Startled, Lewis nearly unseated his sleeping friend, head jerking around to stare wide eyed at the— ghost?— hanging by his shoulder and burbling softly at him. It was pink with bright yellow eyes and a golden heart on what might have been a torso. A noise from the other side made him whip his head around that way. There was a second one poking Arthur’s bloody phone curiously with tiny little nubs of arms. What the—?

A third one of the little things was curiously prodding Arthur's tail and Lewis instinctively curled himself around Arthur to protect him from whatever these things were. They seemed almost as startled by his reaction and swarmed around his head, trilling reassurances at him. How he knew they were reassurances, he didn’t know.

He stared at the nearest one. It stared back with equal curiosity. After a long moment of the silent stare down, it booped his nose with one nubby arm and darted away, hiding among the rocks. He swore he heard it giggling. It was so very like what his middle sister would do that it left him speechless.

One of them, still watching Lewis, went back to Arthur and began to stroke his hair with one tiny arm. It cooed softly at Arthur, though it’s attention seemed entirely on Lewis, like it was saying ‘see, we don’t mean him any harm.’

A barely-there weight settled on his shoulder and Lewis looked up at the third of the little pink spectres. It hummed softly and he got the sense that it was trying to comfort him. Cautiously, he lifted a hand to it and smoothed his fingers along the top of its head. It trilled and he felt a sense of delight from it.

The one who had been playing among the pillars returned and cooing, patted the front of Lewis’s vest where he had hidden his locket. The little ghostie vanished and Lewis felt a sense of warmth around his locket and a brief spike of understanding. They... the little ghosts were manifestations of his power, much like the floating wisps of light. He’d— he had wanted his sisters for the comfort that they always had been to him, so they had taken on his sister’s personalities as seen through the filter of his memory.

The one on his shoulder patted his ear. It wasn’t the same as feeling Paprika's little hand there, but it did offer some bit of comfort. Lewis closed his eyes, leaning his head into the little spirit-creature. “Thank you.”

It burbled a happy reply.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lewis could only guess at the passage of time by Arthur’s transformation. He didn’t know how long it had been, though he guessed at the very least a few days. Those tiny wings were now large enough to cover Arthur’s back entirely and the tail was long enough to wrap around Lewis’s waist, which it did frequently when Arthur was in the throes of pain. There was a tuft of hair at the end, the exact color of Arthur’s hair, and one of his little minion spirits had developed a cat-like tendency to bat at it whenever it twitched while Arthur slept. It would not when Arthur was hurting, and all three of them joined him in trying to soothe Arthur through the worst of the bouts.

Lewis had finally chanced a wary peek at the hideous wound in Arthur’s abdomen, relieved to see that, though there was a gnarled scar there, the flesh had sealed over the organs and muscles. When he wasn’t suffering from another bout of his body transforming itself a little more, Arthur seemed in less pain, so Lewis guessed most of his injuries were repaired by whatever was reshaping his body.

That decided him. Especially the last time he had had one of his brief lucid moments, Arthur had complained weakly of something smelling terrible. Lewis didn’t have to guess hard at what that was. The next time Arthur was deeply unconscious, after the breadth of his wingspan had increased by at least a foot or more, Lewis carefully lifted him into his arms, and carried him back up the path Vivi must have taken. Carefully not thinking about his last memory of her blue eyes wide in horror, her pale cheeks spattered with blood.

Arthur stirred sleepily when Lewis set him back down at the bifurcation of the tunnels, but one of Lewis’s little spirits cooed and stroked his hair until he settled. Daring to leave Arthur for a moment. Lewis ventured toward the entrance of the cave... which wasn’t much of an entrance anymore. An absolutely huge rock sealed the way they had come in. Lewis pressed a hand to it. What had happened?

There was no sign of Vivi or Mystery in the cave, so they must have gotten out before this had happened, but why hadn’t she come back? Vivi would have led the police to here, right? He remembered wishing she had not seen his death, but she would have come back for Arthur, right?

#fanfiction #demon!Arthur #Demon!AU #ecto-rp #ectoimp #MSA #mystery skulls animated #arthur mystery skulls #lewis mystery skulls #arthur kingsmen #lewis pepper #thank you so much tumblr #for eating all my formatting #The Devil and the Dead