Breath Of Venus

༄ breath of venus ༄

chapter six ~ eye of the storm

summary: venus bullies lopez a little. she and mansk have another moment. quaritch and venus find a little bit of calm. quaritch and lyle start to coparent. venus speaks spanish.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: cursing en español

authors note: ok guys, i’m so sorry if this spanish is not up to par. i cross referenced so many different sources, especially about the use of ‘chocha.’ remember how venus patted lyle’s head when she was a baby?

glossary

¿hablás español? - (do) you speak spanish?

Sí, lo estudié durante muchos años. Sin embargo, mi acento está fuera de práctica. - yes, i studied it for many years. however, my accent is out of practice.

Tu acento está bien. Sólo un poco rígido. - your accent is fine. just a little stiff.

Tus tatuajes son un farol, ¿verdad? - your tattoos are a bluff, right?

¿Qúe? - what?

chocha - pussy

eres terrible, niña - you are terrible, girl

Y eres crédulo. - and you are gullible

all sins are attempts to fill voids.” - simone weil

“I don’t believe you.” said Ja from the bank of the spring they had stopped at. Venus was knee deep in said spring cooling off, and she laughed softly at his words.

“You can refuse to believe it. That doesn’t mean that it is not true.” she replied as she waded to the sand. “I swear to you, on all that I hold dear, that they are like my siblings.”

They had been traveling non-stop for nearly two weeks now, and their bodies ached with cramps and knots that never seemed to ease. It was Venus’s suggestion that they stop.

She knew the area by description, not experience. The Omatikaya had close connections with the Tawkami due to the latter clan’s trading outposts and routes. As tsakarem, Venus was given the responsibility of diplomacy and hospitality and was charged with greeting the visitors. Neteyam occasionally accompanied her, but his age made him quick to annoyance and uneasy with the tentative nature of alliance. She had not seen a trader since before the war, and she personally believed that they had hidden, at least from the Omatikaya and other clans of close proximity to Bridgehead.

Many of the marines had taken the opportunity to empty their packs and wash clothes. Venus even showed them some plants they could use to clean, not wanting to pollute the stream with the harsh soap they carried.

Quaritch notably did not participate, instead keeping watch whilst leaning against a nearby tree. He seemed determined to disassociate from anything Venus involved herself in, and it was beginning to irk her.

“What are their names, then?” Zdog butt in, and Venus waved a dismissive hand at her.

“It’s my turn now. You’ll have to save your question.”

It took three days for someone to break the silence of the group as they traveled. Quaritch had given Venus a throat comm and ear piece, but there hadn’t been much talking besides orders and directions. It was Lopez who had snapped whatever invisible tension that rested between her and the recombinants when he suggested a game.

It was simple: Venus and the squad would each have five questions that they would ask a day. Ten questions total over the span of twenty-four hours. He called it ‘trade’. Quaritch called it a waste of time. But they had tried it anyway, and it was working so far.

The squad had already asked her two questions: the one at which Ja showed disbelief of was if she had animal mounts besides her ikran. She had explained Pali, and then added that she had a close familial bond with a few thanators.

Venus pulled her songcord from beside her ear as she asked her question.

“Can I see your tattoos?”

She figured that it wasn’t too much to ask.

That was another rule: no deep questions. None that would entail revealing secrets, at least, both personal and war related. Said rule had been instilled by none other than the grumpy Colonel not twenty feet from where she stood.

Most of the squad had removed their tops to rinse off, so she got a pretty good view of most of their tattoos. The few that hadn’t stripped were Ja, Mansk, and Quaritch.

Zdog went first. The female recombinant hadn’t exactly minded taking off her shirt and standing in a sports bra. Next to Venus you look like a nun, Brown had joked. Venus whacked him with her tail and Z whipped his shoulder with her rolled up tank.

Unlike most of the others, Zdog’s tattoos were colored, and she even allowed the girl to trace the honeycomb-like structures across her arm. When her finger wandered to the snake with the inscription of ‘deathless’ on its scales, she met Z’s eyes and raised a brow.

The woman just chuckled, and Venus moved to the others. She deliberately saved Quaritch and Wainfleet for last. She lingered at Mansk, whose tattoo was covered by his shirt. He had flipped his sunglasses atop his head, showing his different colored irises.

“Eventually.” she said to him, referring to his covered tattoo. He nodded. “Eventually.”

When she moved on to Lopez, she had to bite back a grin. She had been waiting for this moment for some time now.

There was a human woman that had stayed after the war. She was beautiful, with dark curly hair and bronze skin, and her voice tilted with an accent that sounded delightful to young Venus’s ears.

The woman’s name was Lilliana, and she was one of the first avatars who interacted with her without fearing Neytiri’s wrath. Venus grew attracted to her and often went with her to the avatar tent, something that Neytiri greatly appreciated when she had Neteyam and Kiri, with Lo’ak on the way.

It was there that she got introduced to Reggaeton. She could still remember the moment that she heard the strings of a guitar and the bump of electronic bass when she was seven.

Long story short, she demanded that Lilliana teach her spanish, mostly so she could sing it, and partially so she could understand. Norm was able to procure language books and work pages while Lilliana helped instruct her and fill the gaps.

And it was for that reason that she easily translated the tattoo inked across Lopez’s chest.

Sepulturero.

She had nearly curled her lip in disgust when she first saw it, but then she decided that the irony of it was amusing.

“Gravedigger.” she uttered as she stood in front of Lopez, studying the way the word arched under his collarbones.

He raised a brow, eyes widening in slight shock. “¿Hablas español?” he asked softly.

“Sí, lo estudié durante muchos años. Sin embargo, mi acento está fuera de práctica.” she said as she shifted her attention to the tatted brass knuckles on his hand.

“Tu acento está bien. Sólo un poco rígido.”

She nodded at his words. As much as she’d love to sit and talk with him, she had much more pressing matters to attend to.

“Tus tatuajes son un farol, ¿verdad?” she said, allowing her voice to rise slightly in volume. The marines conversations had died down, now attuned to the way that Lopez’s expression shifted from surprise to anger at her words.

“¿Qué?” he questioned, his eyes hardening as her face shifted towards amusement.

“Your tattoos, they must be a bluff. There is a saying from a human book: any man who says ‘I am king’ is no king. I believe it to be the same with these markings. Why would you need to write it on your skin if your actions did not already prove them true?”

Lopez practically snarled at her, but this was not the first time that a man taller and older than her had shown such hubris. Having brothers honed her skills at humbling others, and she applied them when needed.

She smiled up at Lopez mockingly, cocking her head to the side in a silent challenge.

This was a common occurance between them. Lopez was the only one who truly entertained her antics, so she pestered him when she needed to let off steam. Be that through ikran chases or arm wrestling or death diving.

She knew she had touched a nerve, but she had learned Lopez’s emotions well. He was pissed, yes, but he wouldnt hurt her. He frequently insulted her back, so this verbal repertoire was relatively tame.

It was Quaritch’s insistence upon her stopping that angered her. And now was no different.

“Venus, Lopez, knock it off.” he called from the shade. Venus’s tail lashed as she glared over her shoulder at the Colonel. Every time she had any semblance of relaxation or fun, he was breathing down the back of her neck, treating her like she was some spoiled brat that he’d been stuck with.

Lopez followed his orders, though he shoulder checked Venus as he passed. It was that action that made her realize that she may have bruised his ego a bit more than intended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

These were her captors, after all. She had no need to feel sorry for them.

At least, not about immature insults about tattoos.

She carefully removed the woven jewelry from around her waist as she stepped to the water once more. She set the strands and her armbands down on her bag before she reached up and untied her chocker from her neck.

She passed the piece to Ja, explaining how each little dark point was a claw or a tooth from one of her siblings when they were babies, and his eyebrows shifted up as he handled it with care, studying the necklace.

Venus walked over to a ledge that wasn’t far from where Lopez and Brown were now conversing good naturedly. Lopez’s shoulders still knit from her insults, and she smiled to herself. She checked to make sure that the water was deep enough as she stood on the edge of the rock.

She turned to them and took a deep breathe, recalling what Lilliana had always said.

‘If a boy or a man every gets a big head, you set him right. you plant your feet in the ground, turn to him, and call him una-‘

“chocha.”

Lopez turned to her so quick that she barely had time to squeak before he leapt at her, tackling her right into the water below.

For a moment there was nothing but splashing and churning white, and the recombinants watched in amusement as a blue foot appeared before slipping below the surface. When the water calmed and neither Venus nor Lopez rose to the surface, that amusement turned to slight panic.

“They’re gonna drown each other.” said Brown, who leaned over the edge to gaze into the deep water below. Due to their blue skin, he couldn’t pick out any figures. “They won’t drown each other. Venus will drown Lopez.” said Z confidently.

The soldiers turned to the woman, and she simply raised an eyebrow. “She’s really very strong, and she’s lived here for longer than we have. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t underestimate her.”

Quaritch walked up to look over the ledge, standing next to Brown.

“Ten seconds and we’re going in to get them.” he said, brow knitting as he too searched to no avail.

“We? Who’s we?” called Lyle, who stepped towards the bank of the river. “I’m not going to get Lopez’s sorry ass if he drowns. He tackled her, so he’s going to face the consequences.”

“Since when is everyone so confident in the kids skills at drowning people?” Quaritch asked, smirking at Lyle. His corporal looked to him with his head cocked to the side.

“If you paid attention to her, you’d not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, Lopez burst from the water, coughing and sputtering like a drowned cat. He looked like one, too, wet and pissed off. For a moment, the squad waited with baited breath for Venus to emerge.

“Im right here.” came a voice from one of the pools behind them.

And there she was, squeezing water from her hair like she had gone for a nice swim rather than wrestling a marine a foot taller than her.

Zdog was the first to break the silence.

“Who won?”

Venus flashed her canines in a quirked smile.

“Who do you think?”

Zdog fist bumped her, and Quaritch scowled. Z’s ears folded back, backing down, but Venus seemed to rise under his glower.

“He tackled me.” she said as she walked past him, making sure to sling some water from her hair onto his back.

She stepped to Lopez, who was catching his breath on his back on the sand. She reached out a hand.

“Eres terrible, niña.” he said as he took it. Venus pulled him up with a smile. “Y eres crédulo.” she replied.

As he walked away to his pack to get a clean shirt, Venus turned back to the Colonel and Wainfleet.

She wasn’t surprised by Quaritch’s tight jaw or tense posture, no. It was Wainfleet’s look of disappointment that seemed to cool her blood, but she became irritated just as quickly. What right did he have to be disappointed at her?

She simply scoffed and moved to a patch of sun to dry off and comb through her hair, refusing to acknowledge anyone for the rest of their time at the spring.

༄

Venus shifted against the bark of the tree, thinking that when she got the chance, she was going to hibernate on her mat at home.

While she never had qualms about sleeping in trees, constantly doing so was taking a toll on her spine. She practically had to wring herself out every morning to stretch, and the cracking that ensued made her cringe.

But being a hostage wasn’t a luxury, so she took it in stride. There were worse things.

Mansk had taken first watch, sitting a few feet from where she was. His sunglasses sat in his lap, so she was able to study his face. The way that his ears flicked told her that he knew she was looking.

“What are their names?” he asked, voice quiet as to not disturb some of the sleeping soldiers.

Of course he had remembered. Mansk paid close attention to things around him, and he must have mentally saved Z-dog’s question for later.

His eyes shifted to meet hers, and this time she didn’t shy away. He had grown comfortable with her over the past days, peeling back the layers that he concealed himself with as a defense mechanism.

Under all the stoicism was uncertainty and some insecurity. While they hid it well, the recombinants were not happy with their body switch. Venus could empathize: if she woke up in a human body tomorrow, she’d be devastated. So she didn’t push them to talk too much about the change.

She tilted her chin in question, and he gestured for her to come closer. She did, scooting her butt until she sat beside him, listening to his breathing as she thought of her answer.

She registered that Quaritch was awake and listening, though he tried to pretend otherwise. His ears pricked up, swerving to listen to their conversation as his eyes remained closed.

“There were five in the litter.” she said softly. “But only three live. A boy, Armua, died when the sky people returned, burned up in the fire of the ships thrusters. And a girl, Wa’su, died giving birth to her first litter.”

Mansk hummed, looking down at her without fully turning. She was thankful for it. While the wound of Wa’sus death had healed, Armua was still fresh. She remembered searching for him for weeks. He had been the one that was closest to her, having territory not far from the villiage.

She had found nothing but ash.

Some of the marines had risen now, woken by their voices. Lyle yawned widely as he shifted to look at them. Quaritch had given up his little ruse and took a sip of water before handing the flask to Lyle.

“The three are Tamar, Salínu, and Ke’muntxa.” she said, turning to address them as well.

Brown’s ears pricked up. “No mate.” he translated, and Venus’s brows raised in surprise. So they had been listening to her language lessons.

“Yes. She’s a female thanator who lives not too far from here. We flew over part of her territory. She’s the eldest of the group, though not by much. She is my favorite.”

“And she has no mate?” asked Mansk.

“Nope. She rejects every male that tries, fighting them and chasing them off her territory.” Venus answered, smiling fondly at the memory of her sister chasing her brothers away from her, viciously protective from a young age.

Lyle smirked. “Remind you of yourself?”

Venus’s smile sharpened. “Piss off.”

He raised his hands in a ‘I surrender’ gesture, laughing softly. “Just saying. I don’t see you with a mate either, V.”

Something about him smiling made her soften, like the grip around her chest loosened slightly. Lyle had all but ignored her this whole time, outright refusing to talk about the first three years of her life and the last three of his.

She couldn’t exactly blame him. It wasn’t the conversation to have lightly over their comms, but still. The way he looked at her, with his brow furrowed and words behind his eyes, hadn’t exactly helped the tension.

This was the first time that he really spoke to her, looking directly at her and smiling. He joked easily with the others, even the Colonel. But with her, he was distant and cold, only acknowledging her when necessary.

But just as quickly as the mask slipped off, he put it back on, and the warmth of his eyes vanished. Her smiled dropped as well, and she retreated back to lean against the tree. She settled back, and Mansk’s arm brushed hers softly.

She looked to Quaritch, meeting eyes with him. “I meant to tell you earlier, but we’ll be traveling straight through Tamar’s territory. He’s highly aggressive and very protective, so we may want to remain above ground for as long as we can.”

Quaritch nodded, laying back down on his back, stiff as a board. He didn’t like taking advice from Venus, but he was learning that her knowledge was useful when it came to protecting his squad. It was a silent truce of giving him morsels of information and him taking it like a child forced to swallow medicine herbs.

She watched him for a while, and after a few moments his eyes turned to meet hers. The shift in his face was barely visible, but his ears dropped, jaw relaxing as his eyes softened. It was odd to see his inner turmoil, and if Venus had been any less aware of others emotions she would have missed it entirely.

He broke the staring contest first, and she looked away.

The rest of the soldiers settled down, burying themselves in their packs to try and get some sleep before their own watch shift came.

She turned back to Mansk, opening her mouth when-

“Lights out, Venus.” came Quaritch’s low but stern voice, and her tail flicked irritatedly as she turned to look at him.

“You’re not my father.” she uttered, so low that only he and Mansk heard. Mansk inhaled sharply, pointedly turning his face away from whatever father-daughter confrontation was happening.

Quaritch leaned up once more to look squarely at her. “Fine, kid. I’m not, but I am the person in charge of keeping you in line. So get in your pack before I make you.” he practically hissed. Venus barred her teeth, ready to bite back when Lyle’s sleepy voice interrupted.

“Quaritch, let her do her thing. She’ll be fine.”

Venus turned to him, surprised at the casual ignorance of authority. Lyle was feircely loyal to Quaritch, following and respecting his orders always. But now he interviened on her bahalf?

Lyle’s eyes shifted to meet hers before glancing at Mansk, then back once more.

He winked.

Oh, Great Mother.

Her ears burned viciously and heat prickled the back of her neck.

Quaritch glared at the corporal before sighing and rolling over so that his back faced them.

She glanced around to see if anyone else had witnessed what just transpired, but everyone seemed asleep.

Seemed.

She leaned back against the truck of the tree, giving Mansk a disbeliving look. His shoulders shifted in a silent laugh, and she bumped her elbow against his in mock annoyance.

Mansk was…easy. Quiet. Now that she knew him, she hesitated to call him shy. He was more contemplative, not as brazen or cocky as the others. He could be when he got loose enough, but most of the time he was wound tighter than a bow string.

And she had made it her mission to loosen it. She didn’t know why.

Well, maybe she did.

“Your turn.” came his opening.

She reached up and rolled the beads of her song cord thoughtfully as she debated. She had two more questions to ask per Lopez’s rules.

“How old are you, really?”

Mansk leaned his head back to look up at the stars just peaking through the leaves. The stretch moved his shirt slightly, and Venus took a moment to admire the peek of his chest tattoo that poked through.

“Well, I was sent to Pandora when I was sixteen.”

Her eyes snapped up to look at his face. “That hardly sounds ethical.” she replied tentatively.

He hummed thoughtfully, putting the memories together in his mind. “I had an aunt who was pretty high up in the RDA, and she personally recommended me to the Colonel. I needed the money, so I took the offer. When I got to Hellsgate, I was technically twenty-one, but no one ages in cryo sleep. I was on there for four years before I died.”

“Twenty.” she murmured, thinking it over. How it would feel to have lost all that time but at the same time having no repercussions for it.

“Is it the same feeling now, having been gone for sixteen years?” she asked.

Mansk’s ears lowered, and she immediately regretted asking. But as soon as she opened her mouth to apologize, Mansk lifted a hand, silencing her.

“Kind of. I know that it should feel like a gap, but it feels like i was asleep. But then…that man isn’t me. I just house his memories.” he replied, and Venus had to fight the urge again to reach to him.

So that was how they felt? Like corpses, carrying on someone else’s lives.

She supposed that was what an avatar was. A vessel.

But they were not avatars. There was no body in the distance piloting them.

Words sat on the tip of her tongue, begging to fill the quiet between them. But she clenched her jaw and held them in.

Instead, she gently took Mansk’s raised hand.

He flinched, the touch unexpected, but she just cradled his hand in the palms of hers, spreading the fingers and studying them.

A beat of silence, only filled by the soft breathing of the soldiers around them, all asleep.

Mansk’s question filled the air without him having to say it.

What are you doing?

She didn’t answer it, instead tracing the lines that flowed down to his wrist. He shivered as her fingertips traced his veins. She pressed her thumb against the center of his hand, and his fingers curled reflexively.

“You are not him.” was all she said before she let the hand go. He retracted it slowly to his lap. Only then did she notice that he had fully turned to her and that their knees were brushing.

“I used my last two questions. You have two to ask.”

She didn’t look up into his eyes, she was afraid of what she might see in them.

It is much harder to kill something when you see it, granddaughter.

But sometimes it needs to be killed, regardless of its thoughts.

You have much to learn.

“How do you know english so well?”

Ah.

“My father always suspected, at least a little, that the war was not over. It was for that reason that he kept his english sharp. And as the eldest, I learned it as well. I understood it could be useful diplomatically.” she murmured, gesturing between them as if to say ‘see?’.

“And my vocabulary comes from reading and speaking to the scientists that stayed back. I love books, but I had to use a magnifying glass to see the letters without holding the pages up to my face.” she chuckled, swallowing awkwardly as silence filled the space between them again.

The thing about Mansk was that when he thought, you could feel it. Like a cloud of static enveloping you if you were close enough. And with his breath teasing the hairs on her forehead, she was easily close enough.

She studied the camo of his pants, tracing the designs with her eyes as he put the words together in his head.

“Why are you doing this?”

She looked up at that, only to be met with Mansk’s heterochromic irises.

The intensity of the stare made her swallow, and she was once again hit with the same feeling of being seen that she had tried to ignore weeks before.

“Doing what?” she asked, trying to play innocent.

“Talking to us, teaching us, warning us.” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question that had haunted her many sleepless nights. A fight of her heart and her morals. They are the enemy, they are people. They are redeemable, they will never be uncorrupt. She had not yet solved it.

So she answered honestly.

“I don’t know.”

His eyebrows knit at her response, and she could tell that he was unsatisfied with that answer. But he didn’t push it. Instead, he reached forward and gently traced his thumb along the veins at her wrist.

“Let me know when you do.” he said, with a note of finality that let her know that the conversation was over.

She let out a breath of air as she stood, unsettled with it. But she went to Quaritch’s bag, where he kept a spare bed roll for her.

“No complaining, you hear me?” he had said as he handed it to her.

She was grateful for it, but she decided to mess with him a bit. “Does Ardmore know that you took an additional roll for the savage girl?”

His eyes hardened, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling something about “taking the high ground” as he stalked away.

The only available space around was next to Wainfleet. Otherwise, she’d have to climb, but the her head swam with exhaustion in a way that suggested certain death if she even tried to get higher up.

So she unrolled her pack along one of the intertwined branches and laid down, determined to get as much shut eye before sunrise.

As she stared up at the sky, Lyle rolled over, wide awake and bright eyed.

“That was a fucking train wreck.” he said, and she had to fight the urge to slap him. “You talk to everyone you’re interested like that?”

“Oh and i’m sure you were a real lady killer back in your day, huh. It’s not like that, anyway.” she responded, voice low as she turned to face him.

His smile was sharp. “Oh sure. And i’m still spry enough to kick you off that branch.”

“You won’t. You like me too much.” she said, chuckling.

The weight of her words thudded in her chest, too late to take them back.

He looked…frozen. Like he had been caught by a predator in the forest, deciding if he should run or fight.

She didn’t know exactly how long they stared at each other, but it was long enough for her stress to turn into frustration.

Now or never.

She reached her hand forward and set it on top of his head.

It was ludicrous, borderline comical as she sat up on her elbow with her hand on top of a killer marines bald head.

When he didn’t slap her palm away, or bite an insult, or kick her off the branch, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m her, Lyle. She’s still here.” she murmured, watching his expression carefully.

The moisture pooling in his eyes must have been a trick of her eyesight and the light of the bioluminescence around them.

She swallowed, pulled her hand away, and rolled so that her back faced him, begging the Great Mother to give her the sweet mercy of sleep.

༄

She awoke to the soft cooing of an ikran.

Her eyes fluttered as she took in her surroundings, checking each bed roll to see who was here.

The only one missing was Quaritch.

Go figure. He had taken the last watch, pressured by the others to get some rest. Now, as the sun began to rise over the horizon, she found herself searching for the man she was so determined to avoid.

The cooing sound rose through the branches again, and Venus stood to follow it to one of the branches on the opposite side of the tree.

She had instructed the recombinants on what branches to sleep on, and she had deliberately made sure that they slept on the side opposite the rising sun.

She rounded the tree trunk to find Quaritch trying to give Cupcake a tumpasuk.

She let out a soft whistle to alert them of her presence, and their heads both snapped to her. Cupcake let out a low hiss as she took a step forward, and Quaritch turned to the ikran and tutted her.

She watched as his ears suddenly shot forward, and he reached a hand to her.

Ah, so he had been paying attention to her and Mansk at Bridgehead.

She carefully grabbed his forearm, allowing him to pull her to Cupcake. The ikran hissed again before sniffing at her. She let out a snort of approval, and Venus raised her hand.

Cupcake snapped at her halfheartedly, but Venus had dealt with temperamental banshees all her life. She carefully slid her hand past the orange comb at the base of her jaw, finding the dip of skin along the underside of her head and itching.

Cupcake’s head dropped against her chest with a soft squeal, nudging her in a silent demand for more. She looked at Quaritch to find him staring at her wide eyed.

“How come she acts like a hardass to me, but shes all sweet with you?” he said softly, the question mostly rhetorical.

“Because i’m listening to her.” she responded anyway, rubbing her hands along the various divots that were hard for the ikran to scratch. She carefully grabbed the banshee by her chin and turned her to Quaritch, gesturing for him to continue her actions. When he did so, the banshee cooed gratefully.

“I was trying to feed her.” he told her as she settled down next to him, and she studied the fruit that he showed her.

She smiled. “Ikran do not eat tumpasuk. They prefer meat, always.” The colonel rolled his eyes.

She watched him try to bond with Cupcake, but there was something wrong.

“You’re hesitating to fully become one with her. It is why you struggle when you fly.” she said, resting a hand to his bicep to get him to stop. He turned to her in surprise at the touch, but she was already sliding under Cupcake’s neck to stand by her side.

She gestured for Quaritch to follow, pressing her ear to the banshee’s ribs. “Feel her breath, and then breathe with her. Start to become one with her before you even make tsaheylu.”

Quaritch did as she instructed hesitantly, pressing his own cheek to Cupcakes skin, feeling the pattern of her breath before trying to match it.

In and out.

She felt the coils of the ikran’s muscles loosen, and she gradually relaxed against her rider. Quaritch himself seemed less tense. Or, as less tense as he could possibly get.

“When you are ready, make the bond gently. Allow yourself to really feel her thoughts, her lungs, her strength.” she whispered as Cupcake lowered her queue to Quaritch.

The colonel brought his braid over his shoulder and carefully made tsaheylu. The ikran shuddered, and he whispered little reassurances. Venus watched as Quaritch slowly unfurled, allowing his mind to fuse with his ikran’s.

She had instructed many before him, but the change in him was the most drastic of all. His shoulders dipped, and she watched as the pairs breathing became simultaneous and connected.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but after what seemed like a century Quaritch opened his eyes.

“I’m still not letting you indoctrinate me into your little insurgency, kid.” he grunted, still pressing his face against Cupcake.

She sighed in mock disappointment. “I know.” she said, taking a step around the ikran back to the trunk. “But it was worth a shot.”

As she began to round the corner, Quaritch called out to her.

She turned, wondering if he was going to insult her.

“Thank you.” was all he said, and Venus nodded, retreating to the rest of the squad to wake them up.

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eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?” 

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

Slasher!twst introduction…graphic for those who are sensitive to murder and overall fucked up shit in general.

I do not condone or support this behavior in any way, this is for entertainment purposes and for those who enjoy slasher films (it's where I got inspired off of) and not glorify actual serial killers.

basic tw. murder, human trafficking, abuse of power, clearly unhinged and purposely not good characters, mentions of snuff films, stalking, cannibalism, mentioned beheading.

Note: might come back to add more stuff and fix grammar lolz

Riddle

A doctor who craves to see his patients insides. Riddle finds everyone to be unique, during his years in the medical field he’s seen it all. Unlike most people he’s intrigued on the human body, almost taking the role as a psychiatrist but it’s nice to be up and personal with a corpse.

He wishes to understand every single aspect of the human body and brain, there is so much to learn and see. He’s kept a couple of his patients eyes in his lab, staring back at his favorites in remembrance of their once living memory.

Hot tempered however. Abuses the power that he’s a doctor, someone you should trust in health and well being. It kinda gets him off. Besides that he can’t stand patients who don’t listen, snobby and lack manners when he’s asking questions. An easy killer to avoid, just don’t catch his attention.

Trey

Did you see it coming? The friendly baker who’s pastries taste so good yet different no matter the brand. Trey is great at avoiding conflict, his victims are loners, people who don’t have much of a name. No one would suspect him because Trey made it his duty to befriend the law, clean from their records.

Trey had killed off a classmate that bothered him or snuck their nose in places it shouldn’t be. Resulting his decision to hide the evidence by making it into deserts. Or better, meals prepped for guests he plans on bringing over. When he doesn’t need to use his unique magic he eats it as it is. Human flesh doesn’t taste as bad as media says.

Calm and friendly. Someone you wouldn’t expect. Probably lures his victims by giving false hope, he can help you with anything you need. Seduction if needed, get you to isolate yourself so no one would suspect he was behind it. Another easy killer to avoid, don’t pry into his business.

Cater

Makes snuff films. Pretty popular for his cherry attitude and quirky kills. Got into this kind of stuff in high school, at first he was disturbed, but it grew on him the more his curiosity got the better of him. Becomes more self aware of people’s likes and dislikes, this sick thought that he can harm someone. Kill, someone’s daughter, son, and baby he could kill. With hopes and dreams, he can take it all.

Two-faced, he’s great at pretending, a little too good at being your trendy friend who enjoys giving his fans what they want. And he does exactly that. It was the attention he never thought he’d be addicted to. The praise and vulgar language, amusing.

Victims range from how popular and known you are, or if you really caught his eye and he thinks you can scream just right. His unique magic makes great use, multitasking on being in places he shouldn’t be, getting information and learning his victim’s routines. Those who love dressing cute, may you never cross this man.

Ace

A shitty killer, does it for fun. There’s nothing tragic for him he just thinks breaking the law is great….when he’s not caught, thanks to a little friend of his. Likes the adrenaline of a fight, resistance gets him off badly. Pants like a fucking dog if you’re bitchy, finds it hot when his victim can bite back. Brings him more of a challenge.

Picks up his victims from diners or the bar late at night. He’s got charm, unlike his high school years he’s learned to bite back his tongue and instead seduce his way through in situations. Here to impress, after a couple of failed attempts he’s gotten rid of he knows how to play his cards.

Gotten away with a lot of things. Like Trey he has befriended the law, the more corrupted side. The one that enjoys hurting the innocent, that understand the power trip of accusing and punishing. Deuce is his partner in crime, the two are almost regularly seen together.

Deuce

Genuinely wanted to help those in need. He saw himself as the savior in the story, he’s doing good by getting rid of the bad guys. But it’s starting to get boring. No matter how many times he’s slapped himself with water or stare at the cells. The way some more of his aggressive officers handle their suspect started to irl him. In a way others would deem normal.

Man did he miss the feeling of slamming his fist into another’s, the crunching sound of his knuckles and their jaw was exciting. Like a rush of youth, their cowering expression brings him memories that he didn’t know existed. Who is he to lie to himself that what he’s doing is wrong, it feels right to put criminals back in their place.

Respected by all. No one would bat an eye regarding his past records of violence during his school years. Deuce is a changed man they say, even when he’s with that play boy friend of his. He’s gotten better at controlling his bloodlust, the law honors a great officer like him.

Leona

It’s gotten rather lonely and boring lately. Leona had gone into some shady places to get the things he wanted. He’s no stranger to things such as assassins and human trafficking. That was something he was interested in, you only live once to do something fun. Such as owning a person. He’s a prince, it’s the least they can do to shut their mouth and let him have this moment.

Just as him, his family is corrupted, turning a blind eye to Leona’s hobby in collecting different types of victims to play with before discarding. Too many times did he wash the blood away and under his nails. Ravishing in their cries and last moments before taking it. Maybe it was the hunt he was after, but thinking about it that way reminded him of that hunter. Possible chance of them hunting together for sport.

No law can touch him. Not when hush hush money is being covered. Every eye witness is ordered to be silenced with threats and a wad of cash hovering above. Leona takes great interest in enthusiastic people, they rub him off in a nice way that makes him want to see them squirm.

Ruggie

Works for Leona. When Leona doesn’t find the time to buy his next toy that’s where Ruggie comes in. Ruggie has a good eye for candy that’s either sweet or sour, didn’t matter as long as they’re warm and breathing. Ruggie had dug himself deep into things he shouldn't at a young age, but the money was tempting, food was scarce so often relied on the dead people left behind after harvesting their organs.

Leona often gives him a treat for a job well done, getting rid of witnesses or naughty toys. Hyenas have teeth that can easily chew through bone, he's basically a garbage disposal for him. Not that he minds. In fact he loves the lifestyle he has at the moment.

This can go multiple ways, Ruggie is either Leona's personal assassin/helper or a cannibal by heart. But he prefers to work in the crowd, working all alone can have it's flaws, no better way than to have easy access. It's simple, when Leona is happy so is he.

Jack

Some sort of vigilant. Unlike the rest, he beats himself up for not controlling his emotions better. His more animalistic side gets the better of him when he sees the weak get pushed around. Multiple times has he actually tried to stop and get help, but his brain mushes and stretches each time he's seen something dead, unmoving, bloodied and crying in front of him. As if it was right to hurt them. There's so many people who are bad, he'll do the right thing by getting rid of them one by one.

This doesn't go as planned, he's built up some degree of blood lust, a need to excuse his behavior. Slowly getting into denial that what he's doing is ok, as long as no one knows. From killing off bad people to taking in those he deemed interesting. It was normal he said, a wolf needed to protect the weak. Whether they want it or not.

Jack isn't dumb but his victims are usually scared shitless to reason with him. But with a more collected person they can try talking it out with him. Jack however can get possessive because said victim has a point. You understand Jack, you helped him with all the burden and worry. He can't let you leave now tho...

Azul

Everything Azul had was all built up from scratch. He's made some unpleasant decisions to get to where he is now. High off of power and greed he cared little. His morals stripped the second he shakes hand with governments officials. They pay large sums to trade, buy, and sell things for the sake of their country. Organs play a great game into his empire, with the help of the twins social net work he was able to be top dog. Yet up in the surface he's nothing but a gentleman.

Azul gets his hands dirty by obtaining illegal substance and trafficking. Getting himself into these types of business opened his eyes to a whole new world, people are willing to do anything to survive, it's horrible and harsh. But it's starting to grow on him.

He's built connections with corrupted officials for the sake of enjoyment, it's nothing but fun for his customers. He's all too happy to supply them with things that'll keep them satisfied. All of this influenced him to have a cute thing of his own. Wouldn't it show just how much power he has?

Jade and Floyd

They work for Azul, he's just full of surprises! Jade and Floyd are kept busy with doing Azul's dirty work, relieving in targeting their newest victim so they can be sold off. Or knocking at a mans doorstep because he didn't pay Azul back on time. It's a sense of rush, the urge to harm and cause chaos among the innocent. Their job is to keep tabs on clients for any potential scammers, snatching people off the street in the middle of the night, sort of like the mafia but worse.

There is a low chance in encountering them or becoming their victim because of connections to their business. Alter egos, well associated with celebrities or people in power. And they're mostly seen with Azul as body guards, the ones actually doing the more "dirty work" for him. Discarding bodies or simply eating them to quickly get the job done.

Jade is interested in keeping something for the sake of experimenting or true relations. Floyd often have quick hook ups with people he finds interesting before getting bored again. Horrible and cruel with their things, none yet to survive, their parents have yet to complain in need of grandchildren and to further expand family business.

Kalim

Has some type of connection with Azul. Not much besides the trafficking. Something much more sinister under all those smiles, either because of his position or he's great and should do theater is the reason he faces no consequences. Family like the Leech are similar when it comes to traditions, keeping those in power satisfied with twisted and inhumane products. Kalim is probably desensitized, because at a young age it was taught to be normal to traffic those paid high enough. No longer seen as human.

Still very kind to others however, just much more aware and less dense when it comes to more darker subjects. Doesn't get his hands dirty, controls what route or person is taken in, receipts and what not. No hard feelings, maybe just don't be poor/jk

Encountering him is hard, must be related through connections or snooping too much. Like Leona, had many playthings in the past almost like a harem of those who passed his test. Nothing but sweet to his victims because he believes they get to experience pleasure before dying.

Jamil

Plays the same role in canon, Kalim's bodyguard/servant. In this AU he has not yet to envy Kalim as they set foot in the same page. Instead understanding each other through words and acts of loyalty. Has killed at a young age in order to protect Kalim, finds it his purpose to enjoy life while he has the chance. Disturbingly enjoys his job because he has an urge for bloodlust, possible sociopath. Helps get rid of unwanted enemies that are after Kalim in revenge.

Taunts his victims a lot, usually uncaring unlike Kalim. Innocent or not he's ruthless when it comes to disposing of them, gives him a sense of adrenaline in hurting those who did no wrong. Power abusing his status and strength for the fun of it. When not protecting Kalim he goes on his way to meet potential clients who wish to buy someone off or have them killed.

Stalks his victims and always a step ahead, interestingly enough if he finds them intriguing he might just keep them alive for a while. It's nice getting to know someone unwillingly before taking their lives, the thought of their future and life in his hands irks him to continue. Until he gets attached.

Vil

A killer who nobody would suspect as well. Vil is a famous and well known celebrity, who knew his hobby was stalking some more attractive fans and committing unspeakable crimes. Started this hobby in high school. Was somewhat detached as a child as he used to kill small rodents and was home schooled by private and strict teachers. As an actor he does an amazing job in not getting suspected of things people wouldn't think he had the guts to do.

With his magic in going undercover the paparazzi have trouble finding him, they're exhausting so he takes out his frustrations by eyeing pretty things that either adore him or unsuspecting. His reasons are fueled with envy towards those who are kind and considerate, a nobody that catches his eye. So he starts going for both.

Money can do a lot to satisfy his killing spree taking those he favorites and keep their bodies somewhere in one of his penthouses. In a room hidden underground, their body is plastered in a way he'd call art, hanging on the ceiling or kept in glass containers.

Rook

Family tradition to take unsuspecting hikers or foreigners as a sport. Instead of hunting for animals they hunt for people. Once a year the Hunt family meet up with their victims to set them free in whichever area was picked to search for them later on. A game of cat in mouse and usually Rook beats his siblings to these types of games. Can get very attached to his victims, finds every one of them beautiful when alive and dead.

He lives rather far from the city, having to move place to place because of his family's games. This gives him more opportunities to meet new people and find potential victims. Like any hunter, he's sharp and gets straight to the point, police have trouble finding the killer that's been abducting random hikers.

Pretty basic to encounter, because he spends most of his times living in the middle of the woods far away from civilization. I've seen the trend of Rook being a slasher like ghostface and I'm here for it, this is just my take on him in this au, much more darker.

Epel

The type of slasher to get away with everything because of pretty privilege. In this au Epel willingly cross dresses to trick his victims. Bias he was inspired to become a slasher because of movies. What exactly spiraled him to get into these type of things was for the sake of petty revenge. Tired of being seen as weak and fragile, he finds it amusing to see the confused and terrified look on their face when he's revealed to be their misfortune.

He gets really into his hobby, deceiving men who assumed he was a girl and easily befriending their families in case fingers were pointed at him. In fact Epel actually has several identities regarding cross dressing. He doesn't stay very long in places and tends to move when he can.

Victims? Majority are men he dislikes when first meeting. It's rare of him to go after girls, at times he will correct them if they misgender him or he plays along. Meaning putting up the act of a girl best friend. This usually happens if he's interested.

Idia and Ortho

Corrupted during his childhood. Had access to the internet and parents just weren't watching what he was looking at. Idia has seen it all, with the murders, snuff films, and inappropriate ads. It stuck with Idia through adult hood, all his years he's lived in guilt and fear, he's more unstable and lets his thoughts get the better of him. And Ortho makes it worse. It's unsure if Idia is seeing Ortho and hallucinating his voice, he blames that he's the source for all of his killings. All of the failed experiment and loved ones that "passed" away.

Ortho is dead in this au, Idia just can't accept that. But this forms him into who he is now, his family cover up whatever shit he's done, in fact they encourage Idia to do what he must if it made him happy. I wouldn't say they are shitty, because they know exactly what they're doing.

Idia had grown an obsession with trying to revive the dead, or make humans stay longer, he already failed with Ortho and is willing to spare more lives for the sake of science. His victims are people he met online, trollers or crushes to be exact.

Malleus

Malleus is a powerful fae who is influenced by his status, with that power comes a tendency for arrogance and a sense of being above the rules and law. This can be seen in his treatment of others in his kingdom, but it's (not) safe to say he prefers to go after humans instead. it could certainly lead to a sense of entitlement and a lack of regard for the lives of others. Additionally, he is a very passionate character who can easily become consumed by his emotions, and if those emotions are negative, it can lead to a desire for revenge or a need to assert his power and authority through violent means.

After years of being neglected only anger was left, he doesn't see people around him as equal rather than pawns. It's due to jealousy does he tend to lash out on those who either wronged him, throwing fits and tantrums when things don't go his way. Malleus has a glimpse of a child-like behavior when consumed by these emotions, having to replace one too many maids when crossed his paths.

He may be attracted to targets that are also powerful or notable in some way. This could include powerful magic users, royalty, or prominent figures within the magical community. Alternatively, he may also target those who have wronged him in some way, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

Lilia

war veteran that craves the glory and violence when it came to the human and fae war. He’s not like crazy sadistic or anything but killing when “necessary.” Which is a bad excuse because he doesn’t feel bad when harming bystanders that accidentally trip their way into his business. Also being a war veteran he’s highly respected so no one is on his ass when suspecting.

I’d say he’d miss the way skin goes under his nails, having a life in your hands is exhilarating to say the least. It’s almost comforting to him because of how harsh his days were back then. Headcanon that Lilia fought in war at a very young age, traumatic yet he’s addicted to the very thing that harms him. It’s unhealthy but I think he’s in a position to not care, being highly respected of his status is a free way ticket.

Silver

Not a slasher. A poor unexpecting citizen who’s friends with psychos. Silver is kind of a victim in this AU…? Sometimes Silver finds things he should’ve left behind, but in the goodness of his heart he seeks out the problem of his “friends” disappearance. Because of this Lilia regularly has to keep up with Silver so he doesn’t make those mistakes again. Using magic to reduce his memory of the night he saw a woman get beheaded, his son too kind for this world.

But he can be your friend in here!!! Befriending Silver is almost like a golden token, less likely to be victim depending on who’s eye you’ve caught. Some won’t care if you’re under his protection and Lilia’s. Silver could get attached to you tho, causing him to get unpleasant thoughts of wanting to keep you safe, even by force.

Slasher of a making? Lilia would find this an opportunity to fill his head with scenarios and create a false impression of his doings. He’s right to keep you, it’s for your own good and everyone around him keeps leaving. You’re all he has left.

Sebek

By slasher I mean background character lmaoo. As usual, works with Malleus as his personal guard. You could’ve been so many things to get in a situation with Sebek/Malleus, having been bought or maybe a friend of Malleus that he grows to resent. Sebek knows better then to let anger get the best of him, having blood on his hands are a normal occurrence especially when assassins tend to come left and right. So he’s always alert and very distanced when it comes to forming a relationship.

Some sort of executer, gets rid of any evidence from either within the castle or a good hunt. Much more connected to his animalistic urges but can easily overcome them. Anything grotesque sets him off to harm those around him. His hunger for any sort of flesh is unmatched, worse than any other beastfolk as he consumes it raw and alive.

Sebek would be the last person you’ll ever meet because encountering him is very very random. He’s a busy person who is barely seen in public unless it’s for important events that includes Malleus being there.

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc; 3104)

Jake knew a saying; held onto it ever since he had resided amongst Na’vi– every person is born twice. While he believed that it meant that the second time is when you earn your place here in Pandora, Eywa had a clever way of broadening the idea. His very children were proof of it.

He thinks it’s the great mother’s way of compensation, perhaps a second chance for him to do better– to do his very best to keep them alive on behalf of those he lost. 

While Kiri was a special case enough, you too were an odd one. 

You are Tsu’tey's daughter. Turns out, he had someone in secret while he trained to become olo’eyktan– when he was supposed to take Neytiri for himself. It was taboo– absolutely wrong to become unfaithful to one’s mate. But following the carnage of the great war, when Tsu’tey had so selflessly sacrificed his life, only then did Tsi’ewa came forward; told everyone of their love and what could have been. She was a simple songstress along Ninat, but it was her round and bulging belly that caught everyone’s attention.

It caused an uproar and understandably so. After all, Neytiri had only announced her rebellion with Jake not long before, but when the people connected the dots themselves and both stories had become one, they understood that their hearts merely yearned for another and no one should have ever dictated otherwise. Arrangements had been made and condolences were exchanged— everyone can only look back and wish that things could have been different.

Jake was supposed to take you under his wing as a way of honoring him– he owed Tsu’tey his life and perhaps an apology as big as so. But after your mother had unfortunately died during your birth, he knew to himself that he had to take you in; not as a responsibility, but as his own blood and flesh. His first daughter.

You were the loudest baby, he recalled. That day, Jake had rocked your body back and forth in his arms frantically, while Mo’at and Neytiri did everything within their power to help Tsì'ewa. Your cries were ear-splitting, enough to wake the whole clan up. 

“Just what do I do with you,” He muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitted in frustration– just where do he hold you? Is he doing it right? Are you hurt? Why are you crying so loud?

“Jake, the baby!” Neytiri’s shout from inside had cut his train of loud thoughts, snapping back to your bawling. He wasn’t doing such a good job. 

“I’m trying, Neytiri– this thing won’t budge.”

Neytiri had emerged from the hut, stomping her way to Jake with a scowl. "That is not a thing, you skxawng!" she exclaimed before gently scooping you up from his arms, cooing softly to you– though it was more like mocking him instead. “Does Jake here make you cry?” She said, patting your thigh soothingly. “He’s not at all pleasant to look at, but you have to get used to it.” 

Almost in an instant, your cries had died down. You babbled along with her, like you were agreeing with her every word. He slowly pulled himself closer to Neytiri, eyes wide with curiosity as he watched your small hands playing with her long braids. “Heh, she has Tsu’tey’s eyes,” He whispers, unable to look away. 

The flap of the hut swinging open was the only thing that got their attention, momentarily away from yours as they looked at Mo’at with anticipation. With a single shake of her head, sorrow surged their hearts, eyes traveling back to your innocent ones. They mourned for you; an unknowing child should never have to carry such grief. They had to make a choice– A responsibility they weren’t expecting to have so early. 

Jake mindlessly trails his finger down your stomach, gently, like you were the most fragile thing. Your little hand wraps around it and it was like you had binded his scattered thoughts into one big understanding. 

Sully. You’re one of them now.

Jake releases a breathless chuckle as he gazes upon his lover and you with a newfound clarity, a perspective so bright it illuminated in his very eyes. Then came an idea– the desire of having children of their own. Perhaps that’s why Neteyam came after only two years. You were quite the ploy; the push they needed to start a family.

You were truly blessed– the genius of your age was undeniable, your remarkable talent soon earning you the admiration of all who had seen it. By the time you turned six, you had already mastered many of the abilities that a hunter would need– your skills with a bow were unrivaled by most of the children your age, let alone those who were much older than you. They'd marvel at your accuracy each time you took aim with an arrow. You could never miss. You had to make sure you didn’t. 

By the age of 12, you had already accompanied Jake in hunts. You had developed a knack for planning, coming up with routes and back-up plans that were often surprisingly effective. You have proved to be helpful plenty of times. You were quick, silent– full of poise. They often wondered if you were an old, seasoned soul trapped inside a little girl’s body. 

But as quickly as the spotlight had shone down on you, it left almost as soon as it had come.

(“What you did today was reckless, y/n.” Jake settles his bow on the table aggressively, emitting a sharp thud. You were just as frustrated, throwing your satchel down the floor of the hut. 

The mission had gone rather wildly, with things not going along the plan. There was another airship– one that no one was aware of. Your instincts jolted your body, immediately throwing an explosive towards it which had it blowing all over the place– its pieces crashing and causing a wildfire. 

Jake argued that there could’ve been a more safer way. One that didn’t have to risk more of our resources and supplies; one that didn’t have to injure the other warriors. Of course you knew to yourself that you did the right thing. You did what you had to do. 

 ‘You could’ve been hurt and got others killed! Just what were you thinking?” He continued to berate you. You jest that if this went on, there’d be steam visible above his already heated head. 

“I had to take a risk– not everything goes to plan and this is proof of it.” You answered back with a scowl, “If I hadn't, there would’ve been more casualties.” 

“That’s not a call for you to answer to! Jesus Christ,” Jake runs his palms down his face, grunting, before looking back at you– expression suddenly tired and soft. “Come on kid, where’s that sweetheart who always listened to what I said?” 

You had scoffed, a hurt forming on the pits of your stomach. “That sweetheart once had a place in plans before.” You said, eyes unwilling to look at him. It weighed in your heart heavily– why did people assume that you were the only one who changed? You didn’t understand. “Pretty sure the Jake before was a good listener too.” 

The wrinkle in between his eyebrows deepened in confusion, but he never was one for confrontation. With a single dismissive grunt, he turns his back against you. “I’m way past your attitude. You’re grounded. Go.”)

As you grew, the resemblance to your father became ever more apparent. Jake started noticing the many similarities between the two of you; the way you walked– how you sauntered confidently through a crowd. Your braids would move along your heavy steps (and perhaps, that’s where Neteyam got his mannerism of swaying his too.), shoulders wide and proud. You even had his signature snarl, something Tsu’tey was known for that unfortunately seemed to have been passed down to you too. 

However, it was more than how you brought yourself. You were strong-willed– stubborn. 

There was another thing about you too. You didn’t call Jake dad anymore. It hurt him– left a heavy feeling on his chest every time you regarded him so distant. It was unfair that you still called Neytiri mom, why did it have to change with him? He didn’t have the heart to address it. Couldn’t ask you what went wrong. 

Because he knows damn well why. 

Lo’ak was enough of a headache, but you were a different kind of royal pain in the ass, more like a personal problem. It was tiresome. Petty. There was not a day that you and Jake wouldn’t argue and bite each other’s ass off– and yet, there was never a day where you two would talk it out. The fights would blur itselves out and before they knew it, things would be back to normal, only for it to fall out again over something small. It was routine. The only thing normal for you both. 

He missed you– missed his baby. Just when did you grow to become so distant? When did he start to overlook you?

You’ll admit, you might have indulged in the folk’s gossip. They always had a story for everything and they have plenty about your father. Tsu’tey was a fit olo’eyktan. He had proved so in his training and determination. Of course it was a low punch in the gut when the throne had been passed to an outsider– a demon, most of all. It was unfair, he knew it wasn’t right. A washed up marine had taken something he had worked for like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. 

You pitied your father and you feared you’d be like him– like nothing. 

And history might just repeat itself. You weren’t clueless– wasn’t blind to the fact that Jake had trained your brother more. He adored him so much that the very moment he was in the right age to train, you were off to fend for yourself; trained all alone while Jake went over the routine with Neteyam like he did with you. You remembered waiting for him every afternoon because he promised that he’d make time– that time was yours and yours only. But as the light bled and neared eclipse and you were too cold to wait outside, you learned never to wait again. 

They would come home soon after– smiles on their faces and a handful of apologies for you. 

Soon enough, your suspicions proved you right as the people started to talk again; Neteyam– the golden child. He would make a good olo’eyktan. 

Perhaps that would explain the drift between you and Neteyam too. Could they blame you for it? You had lost their attention so early– while you still needed them. You weren’t their kid and you were reminded of it everyday. In times when you didn’t know if you had space in the family hammock while they sat together, telling stories under the starry sky. You pretended to have fallen asleep everytime; back against them as you listened. In times where the family was growing and growing, until the small table wasn’t big enough for everyone anymore– or in this case, for you. 

(“Come on, ma’ite, what are you doing so far from here?” Neytiri had called for you when she noticed how distant you were from everyone. You silently scooted beside her, wooden bowl in your lap. “Look, I prepared your favorite.” 

It wasn’t. You hated it. You hated the tangy taste of it so badly. But you had decided to eat what was left on the table after everyone had gotten their meals and there wasn’t usually enough for you. Neytiri thought nothing of that– didn’t think that you eating only scraps and dried fruit was because there wasn’t anything else for you to have. She simply thought that it was your favorite and had been making it for you ever since.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not when she thought she had been doing well with preparing it. You kissed your teeth, smiling tightly as you lifted the food to your lips, eating silently. “Thank you, it’s good.” You muttered under your breath after.) 

But you were family; they said so themselves. When they tucked you in to sleep, when they patted your head. They were still present now, just not in the way you wanted– not in the way you longed for. It seemed like making them angry was the only way you could have their attention– particularly, your dad. You could never make Neytiri mad. She tries to understand you, she does. Explaining now just seems so.. Petty. So childish, you decided to push her away instead. 

What do you tell her? That you only let dad blow a fuse or two was because you missed him? Because you didn’t know what went wrong? 

So there goes your routine. 

“I just don’t understand why I can’t be olo’eykte.” You had brought up again, lips in a familiar snarl. “You tire me and for what? Kiri is already training to be Tsahik– just what would my place in this clan be?” 

“We are not having this conversation again, y/n. Not tonight.”

Jake had just returned from a particularly bad hunt; went home empty-handed and with a patience as thin as a strand of hair. He continued to sharpen his dagger, movements almost aggressive. Everyone immediately went out of his way, not wanting to be on the end of his temper– not you though. You could never get a hint, it seems.

“Yes, tonight! My ceremony is almost near, sir. I have been waiting.”

It wasn’t like he had a reason anyway. Jake couldn’t tell you because he had no reason as to why. Why couldn’t you be olo’eykte? You had all the skills to be one, even more so. But in the back of his mind, a thought so deep and petty that he couldn’t bear to say, tells him that the name he carried was something to gift his eldest son. Olo’eyktan was a privilege reserved for Neteyam. He never thought to have you so early– he always dreamed of having a son first. 

“Wait more.” 

“This is insane– sa’nok!” You had turned to Neytiri, eyes pleading. She quickly grasps your arm and tries to tug you back towards the exit, speaking in a soft but firm voice as she tries to soothe the tension.

“Ma’ite, why don’t we go out for a walk?” She whispers. To be frank, she was tired of this– never of you, no. But at the way things had been. Parents aren’t parents automatically just because they have had children of their own. It’s a skill they have yet to muster– to truly understand. She didn’t know where the line between you and her had blurry along the years. Didn’t know where this constant need of yours to be seen came from. 

You jerked your arm away from her, almost too harshly. It tugged on her heartstrings, not knowing what was going on with you. “I cannot wait anymore.” You said, taking two steps towards Jake with an unreadable anger– an anger he didn’t know when had stemmed from. 

“Is it because I’m not your daughter?” 

His eyes widened. A flash of vulnerability visible in his gaze, momentarily softening his glare. “You stop this right now, y/n.” He had stood up, tucking the dagger back to his loincloth. Jake’s larger frame towered over you, telling you to drop it– to leave the conversation. But you weren’t backing down. 

“I am your eldest–! You trained me earlier than Neteyam, I have been here long enough–”

“You aren’t ready!” He had shouted with the same fierceness, earning a dirty look from Neytiri.

“Why won’t you see me?” Your voice had softened, borderline begging– just a bit, but enough for his ears to flatten in response. He knew that beneath those few simple words lay many layers of underlying meaning; emotions that have yet to be spoken. 

But he turns his back against you dismissively anyway. “Neytiri, get her out of here.” 

Neytiri grabs you by the arms again, although a bit forceful now, but just enough for her to touch you– to have you in between her arms. She embraced you, like she was trying to keep the words from escalating. She feared one of you would say something out of line; something you both would regret. 

But on the brink of the tension– the severity of the situation, you had muttered. Your voice was muffled, but it was clear. The message was oh so crystal. “You took everything from my father.” 

Jake grunts, “Yeah? Well maybe your father wasn’t enough either.” 

“Jake!” Neytiri hisses and although Jake couldn’t see her, he knew very well he was getting quite the conversation with his mate too. 

It was a low blow. Unnecessary. A straight strike to the gut. It was a pain so bitter, you didn’t want it to linger any longer– you were nauseous. You wanted no more than to vomit everything that spiraled out of your stomach. 

“You want to lead so badly and you can’t even control your temper. No clan wants a hot-head for a leader.” But he kept going– relentless and cruel. “You ought to be someone else’s shadow.” 

“But I’m your daughter,” Your tone had softened, almost cracking as the lump in your throat grew. Tears blurred your vision, threatening to escape as Neytiri held you close. 

“And yet you never listen to me— because I’m not exactly your father, yeah?” With one last glance, he stepped out, passing his children who stayed just outside the door, listening. Jake opens his mouth, desperate to ease the tension– the discomfort written in their faces, but he quickly shuts it and continues to walks out. He had said enough for tonight. There was nothing saving his face from this. It was best if he left instead. 

“Oh, ma’ite.” Neytiri rocks her body along yours, drawing soothing circles on your back but the embarrassment settles in your chest– gnawing at your body. You catch a glance of the pitiful looks from your siblings as they try to enter the hut silently. 

How could you make a mess out of yourself in front of them? Why had you let this blown over?

You retracted slowly from your mother’s hold, wiping your tears before running the opposite way from where Jake had gone to. It was better if you left instead.

mauve here! finally done writing this after racking my head for weeks. wanted it to be relatable (??) as much as possible, idk why. there is just something therapeutic w writing about your past issues <3 but i hope this one's alright!!! really excited to finally post this heheh

lots of kisses!

.⋆｡𖦹 °˖ avatar .⋆｡𖦹 °˖

༄ breath of venus ༄

in the back of my mind in the back of my mind

you died

i killed you

and i didn’t even cry

and i didn’t even regret it

no not a single tear

i can’t believe i said it

series playlist | #—botticelli blues ⋆｡˚

summary ~ a girl born from nothing has spent her entire life trying to be everything her family and her clan needs her to be. but what happens when old ghosts take her as hostage?

Venus is discovered as a baby by Grace Augustine and later adopted by the Sully family following the war. her instincts will be challenged when Eywa gives her a sign that all is not what it seems when it comes to her reborn captors.

this is a Recombinant story that will attempt a redemption arc. it includes my oc. this is my first time writing a fan fic so please be kind!!!

the series ~

chapter zero ~ prologue

chapter 0.5 ~ happiness is simple

chapter one ~ tswal tsmuk

chapter two ~ taken

chapter three ~ you’re mine? / i was never yours

chapter four ~ eywa’s will

chapter five ~ fight or flight

interlude ~ sins of the father

extra ~

playlists

experimental chapter dialogue - you are dismissed

any drabbles or random thoughts will be under #—botticelli blues ⋆｡˚

How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.

Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola

Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot

Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none

Word Count; 4.6 K

Chapter 1 | more chapters to be determined

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~

Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.

Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child. 

“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.

Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.

What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.

Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.  

The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.

“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.

“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.

Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.

“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.

Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine. 

The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.

“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.

After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open. 

Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.

Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.

You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.

…

…

…

By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.

You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word. 

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”

Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.

The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.

The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.

“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”

Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.

Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.

The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”

Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.

With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.

“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.

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By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.

Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.

You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.

But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.

… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.

Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.

| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends  | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

| Mama’s Boi | Yeah, I’m down | What time? | . . . | And what’s fiid?

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Ginger, derogatory | IT WAS A TYOP | *TYPO | I MEANT FOOD | F O O D

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?

| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me

| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!

That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.

…

Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.

“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”

Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”

He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend? 

“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.

Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.

He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.” 

You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.

“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”

Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.

Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.

You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.

Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.

You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”

Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies. 

“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”

You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”

Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”

Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”

You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up. 

Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!

You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.

“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison. 

You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.

You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.

But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.

The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.

Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…

Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.

“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.

You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.

You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place. 

All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.

Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.

When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?

He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.

And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!

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Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

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Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.

If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.