#call of cthulhu nails
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*coughs* oh where did this come from lol hyperfixations are falling out my pocket oops
The Vittoria and Naenia do not spend time apart very often, though they like wildly different things. This often means you can find them spending time doing each other respective interests. Vittoria will dress Naenia up while Naenia sits there quietly and reads. Or Vittoria will draw whatever story Naenia is writing. Or Vittoria just talking nonstop to Naenia who just nods along while reading books about arachnids.
Leonidas will join dress up if he has nothing better to do than walk around in a dress with one side of his hair braided and Vittoria begs really hard.
Vittoria LOVES her hair, she takes a lot of pride in it and doesn’t let anyone touch of braid her hair except Wednesday. She loves getting her hair styled and changed, she eagerly awaits the day Enid and Wedesday say she old enough to dye her hair. Naenia has Enid cut her hair pretty often, the feeling of hair touching the back of her neck is very uncomfortable for her.
One time Enid came in their room to find Vittoria had cut all of Naenia’s hair with scissors when they were six. Vittoria explained that Nia was getting frustrated and cried because of her hair and she was just trying to help. They all crowded into the bathroom and Enid helped smooth it out and soothe Nia. Naenia hasn’t had long hair since. And she doesn’t let anyone but Enid cut it, she is very particular about the way its cut.
Leo once tried to set Vittoria’s braids on fire and she tried to throw his violin out the window. This ended up in a week long prank war.
Naenia isn’t very talkative, Wednesday likes to believe she takes after lurch. Often Vittoria will speak for her, she has the uncanny ability to know how Naenia is feeling. The younger twin likes to read quietly or observe. Often you can spot her mirroring her family, she loves to be around them.
Wednesday will sit Naenia next to her during her writing hour in her personal office because sometimes Vittoria and Leonidas can get loud with their fighting and she’s sensitive to sounds. Naenia is the only person allowed to do this besides Enid because she is the only person in the family who can be quiet and still for an hour easily. Leonidas has trouble sitting still indoors without physical tasks, and Vittoria doesn’t like not speaking.
Naenia started writing at a young age to communicate with people outside of family. She will talk if it is necessary, or if she’s comfortable but its not often and certainly not to new people. She used to write little stories for her and her siblings to play pretend to. Like “Save The Helpless Child From Cthulhu” and “You’re Being Tortured How Loud Can You Scream”.
Vittoria: Why am I always the one getting tortured?
Leonidas: You torture us enough with your presence. Tie her up, Nae.
Naenia: *nodding while tying Tori to a chair*
Leonidas: If you can last three hours without crying, you can be mother’s favorite
Vittoria: I am mami’s favorite!
Naenia: *thumbs down*
Leonidas: Get the nails, Nia.
Because Naenia does not like loud sounds, she often does not partake in loud parties from the Addams family. Naenia will usually sit in a spare room with Thing to keep her company. Her family comes to check on her or bring her food usually though, especially Vittoria because they are codependent.
Vittoria LOVES Divina and Yoko, every time they visit she somehow manages to convince them and Enid to let her pick out their outfits.
Naenia loves Thing, she will follow thing and Leonidas around very often just to quietly be around them.
Naenia gets a pet tarantula from Wednesday for her birthday, she spends a lot of time just watching her and writing down her behavior. Her and Wednesday feed her together, her name is Lucifer. Naenia just calls her Luci.
Naenia’s idea of fun is sitting at home with all her family on the couch quietly watching horror movies. Or watching animal documentaries. She is a fan of arachnids particularly.
Both the twins make fun of Leonidas because he calls Wednesday “mother”.
Enid is Momma and Wednesday is Mami. Leonidas is just a quirky boy who’s different and calls Wednesday mother. She finds it endearing.
Vittoria has gotten into Enid’s make up multiple times, she loves anything sparkly and colorful.
Wednesday sets aside specific days for each of the kids to pick an activity for them to do together. This was her way of delegating time between writing and spending time with them.
Vittoria always wants to go shopping, she loves getting Wednesday’s opinions and because Wednesday lets her get as many onesies as she wants. They’ll have tea parties, play dress up, watch Tangled (Vittoria’s favorite movie), or Wednesday will let Vittoria do her hair while Wednesday tries to keep up with her gossip.
Naenia always wants Wednesday to read her stories and give feedback, Wednesday is always amused and proud. They will read quietly in the library, look at pictures of spiders and facts, and watch and critique horror movies. Naenia really likes to share arachnid facts, and Wednesday always listens. She remembers every single one.
Leonidas almost always asks Wednesday to fence, he is determined to beat her at least once in his lifetime. Wednesday hasn’t let him win once. He likes playing chess with her, playing music with her, and learning from her. Knife throwing, archery, Leonidas is very competitive but he is currently 178/0 with Wednesday. He’ll win eventually.
#wenclair#eniday#wenid#enid x wednesday#wednesday x enid#wenclair au#wenclair parent au#wenclair kids au#enid sinclair#wednesday addams#wenclair brain rot#wenclair future au#enid and wednesday#wenclair fanfic#naenia at any given time will tell ANYONE a arachnid fact#she will write it down walk up to you and make sure you understand how important the arachnid fact is#vittoria is known for insulting people’s outfits#vittoria: but she DID look like the grinch momma#enid: I know honey but next time lets not insult the principal#vittoria: you were thinking it.#enid: but I only thought it.
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[COMMISSION]
Maria & Arthur
Sometimes, amazing people commission me with their amazing characters !
For this overdue piece, I had to draw @mizaryroku and @d-choppy 's wonderful babies : Maria and Arthur <3
The proof, if needed, that RP can brew the best of characters and dynamics. Even RP as perilous as "Call of Cthulhu" !
And they nailed the "angel/devil" concept, because those characters are that cool you know. Yeah ! I LOVE my friends OCs <3
PS : Yes, many hours of my life passed only for the flowers BUT it was worth it !!
#my art#artists on tumblr#illustration#illustrator#comic artist#character designer#not my original character#friend's oc#oc rp#commission#call of cthulhu#so many flowers#angel and devil#rymoire#rp is life#rp is love
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BSAV family AU part 1: Felicia
Overview:
Felicia Blackthorn, is witch living in Eternyx, on Potion Alley, number 667, Poe street.
Currently, she lives together with: An eldritch being (Cthylla), three vampires (Lilith, Vester, and Sil, wo is the NPC guy), another witch (Scarlet, her daugther), a permanent human (Scotty), and a non permanent human (Alano)
Lore:
Felicia was born to a single mother in Eternyx, for a long time, she didn't had much expectations for her life, "Just another witch of Eternyx living day by day" she always thought of herself, when she was 18 years old, her mother died in a potion making incident, which led to her to inherit the Potion Alley, months later, she started to be harassed, by an bigger potion making busines, who wanted to destroy the Potion Alley to continue their monopoly on potion making, which lead to Felica doing drastic measures, she made a deal with an eldritch deity called "Cthulhu", their deal was that Felicia would receive enough powers to destroy that corporation that was harrasing her, in exchange, Felicia would have to take care of Cthulhu's daugther, Cthylla, and so, the deal was made, and days later, the potions company disappeared overnight, and some people report seeing a "pink octopus" walking around her house.
years later, Felicia decided to rent some rooms in her house (who was right above the Potion Alley), and that's when Lilith and Vester moved in, by that time, she already had joined the Gaga team.
Some more years later, Felicia started having a baby fever, who made her use a spell to make herself pregnant, just like her mother had previously done, which lead to Scarlet being born, 3 years later, Cthylla had brought something to Felicia, a baby! That baby was Scotty, and since Felicia couldn't find his parents, she adopted him.
Another years had passed, and she got a side job as a nail maker for Night Swan, which made her being cutted out of the Gaga group, recently, she and Night Swan had an incident, which made Felicia stop comunicating with NS, she also started to re-connect with the Gaga group.
Namaseke:
Felicia: Felicia is her canon name, meaning Lucky, fortunate, happy, it's commonly associated with cats
Blackthorn: The Blackthorn plant, is a plant commonly associated with witches and witchcraft
And to anyone who asks, yes, I did changed Lilith and Vester backstory, they weren't kidnaped by her anymore, she's just their landlord.
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“More,” instructed Sascha, and their assistant obediently yanked on the cords of the piece of corsetry that was wrapped around the body of Cassius Halestorm; both the boy and Sascha’s assistant made grunting noises at the effort, but still the corset barely budged.
They’d been at this for nearly an hour.
They were in Sascha’s private atelier within the Haus of Holbein, where the vampire had called in their young client for a fitting. The newly-reunited band Cthulhu had had several consultations with Sascha since Shoshana had asked Sascha to be the band’s stylist, and the looks they had collectively come up with for all of the other band members were nearly complete, hanging on mannequins around the atelier; for Shosh, a slim-cut multi-paneled overcoat trimmed with black lace and velvet, made from reclaimed vintage upholstery fabric, that she could remove during a performance to reveal a bodysuit underneath, paired with her signature thigh-highs, of course. The wolf, Henrietta, had requested what was essentially a full-body harness, made of up intricate patterns of overlapping, woven straps and buckles (made of platinum and bronze, never silver), with utilitarian pockets and patches that could be removed, rearranged, and replaced with other attachables at her discretion. The new bassist had wanted elevated streetwear, with cargo pants and cropped jackets that flared and hugged in all the right places.
It was just Cassius who’d had trouble nailing down a design.
And it’s not as if Sascha was imposing this on the boy; it had been Cass who’d marked corsetry as something he wanted to try, when they’d all been given lookbooks to flip through for inspiration.
Sascha sighed, and pursed their lips; if you wanted something done right, oftentimes you had to do it yourself. “Leave us,” they said, not unkindly, to their assistant, who nodded with barely contained grateful relief before scurrying out of the workroom.
Sascha glided across the room behind Cass and took the corset strings in hand, which caused the latter to tense up. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax…” Sascha chided, and caught Cass’ eye-roll reflected in the mirror. Gradually, with slow and painstaking patience (which, as an immortal creature, Sascha had plenty of), Sascha pulled on the laces, millimeter by millimeter, holding the strings taught. “…it would also help if you slowed down your pulse, stopped breathing so frequently.” As a dhampir, Cass didn’t have the luxury to stop breathing altogether, as full-blooded vampires did. But he didn’t need nearly as much oxygen and blood-flow as he seemed to be in the habit of using, and would function perfectly well on less with a little bit of discipline.
Which is one thing the boy seemed to be woefully lacking.
To make conversation, and to distract from the slow, vice-like tightening of the corset, Sascha said, “…Shoshana tells me you’re a relation of one of the rare Redlocke vampires—Verlie. Tell me—how is she faring, with her new role? I know she was resistant to being…how did she put it?—‘on fucking house arrest in this abysmal country.’” Sascha chuckled, and tightened, remembering the veritable tantrum the young Redlocke vampire had thrown when she’d appeared to plead her case before the Vampire High Council, her own family representing the opposition against her. That had been an interesting deliberation, to be sure.
@casshasfangs
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Reading Round-Up June 2023
Books Read
An Unauthorized Fan Treatise by Lauren James
Described as "a serialized murder mystery novel set in a fictional fandom, formatted like a shipper's conspiracy theory", which is very accurate. It can be read in full (for free) here. I have mixed feelings on this novel. On the one hand, it's really clever in a lot of ways, I love Gottie and Rob and their parallels, and it absolutely nails the fandom atmosphere. The first half of the book feels just like reading unhinged fandom discourse, which, if you're a nosy bitch like me, is fantastic. The second half, however, plays the (murder) mystery a lot straighter, and that's where it kind of lost me. I don't feel like the mystery is quite strong enough to work without the gimmick. I do think the novel uses its chosen framing device really well, but the ultimate mystery was such a let down for me it left a nasty aftertaste. I would still recommend this novel, though, because at the end of the day, it's a unique piece of writing with a lot of thought and effort put in. And besides, I am difficult to please when it comes to mystery novels, so others might enjoy this more than me. (PS for the best experience, make sure you know the story of the MsScribe drama.)
The Call of Cthulhu, The Curse of Yig, The Man of Stone, The Horror in the Museum, The Thing on the Doorstep, The Tree on the Hill, and The Shadow out of Time by HP Lovecraft
This month I finished Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos stories. I still hate this guy's writing and am relieved that I'm finally able to leave it behind. From this month, the ones worth reading if you're interested in Lovecraft's worldbuilding are The Thing on the Doorstep, The Shadow Out of Time, and The Call of Cthulhu. This man's writing is never not racist but I'm specifically warning for racism in The Call of Cthulhu, in particular in regards to mistreatment of voodoo, racism against Inuit people and repeated usage of the esk*mo slur, and repeated usage of the word 'mongrel' to refer to a diverse group of people of colour.
Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee (Did Not Finish)
I bought this book about three years ago for my birthday but never got around to reading it. Finally decided to pick it up because I was in the mood for something lighter, and unfortunately I did not enjoy it. I read up until about halfway through the book before deciding I did not care. The premise of this book is absolutely killer (giant mechanical dragon powered by magic paint does revolution against an imperialist nation), but unfortunately the writing/execution is just not every good. The worldbuilding's pretty interesting, as is the actual dragon, but the author does not seem to have a good grasp on how to distribute information, leading to either over- or under-explaining, which ended up being the death knell of this book for me. It's incredibly difficult to care about the plot when you barely explain the rules of the magic system your plot hinges on. This, combined with a small slew of other minor problems (the prose is mediocre, the pacing a little-less-than-mediocre, and I find a few of the narrative decisions this book makes to be annoying/baffling) made me frustrated while reading more often than not, and unlike what my Lovecraft adventures would have you believe, I am not a completionist and I do not make a habit of reading through books I don't like.
The Murderbot Diaries: All System Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol and Exit Strategy by Martha Wells
Currently listening through Network Effect. Picked this series up in a bundle of audiobooks sold for charity basically on a whim because it was an insanely good deal (less than 20 euros for the whole series + a lot of other books). I'd vaguely heard of the series but went in pretty much blind. Delighted to announce that it's great and I'm enjoying it immensely. Murderbot is a fantastic protagonist/narrator, and tbh it's hard carrying the series, because while the rest the narrative (worldbuilding, other characters, prose, etc) isn't bad, I feel like thusfar the only other stand-out elements are ART's character and maybe the portrayal of the Company. But Murderbot is just such a compelling character it's impossible not to be charmed by these books. They're funny as hell too. Favourite book so far is Artificial Condition.
Shows Watched
Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury
Finished season one, on episode two of season two. Having an absolute blast watching this show; I really enjoy most of the characters and I'm interested to see where all that political intrigue goes. However, I do think that the school setting works against the show (it feels unnecessary most of the time and is boring compared to alternative options imo) and I feel like the transition between season one and two was pretty poor. It also has intermittent pacing issues. In addition, this is my first ever Gundam show and though I'd heard this was accessible to newcomers, and that's probably true bc I'm following along fine, I really do feel like I'm working with half the information most of the time. How exactly Gundams work is very underexplained in the show. I assume this is background knowledge long-term viewers are expected to have, but maybe it's a flaw in the worldbuilding, I can't say. At the end of the day though, most of the issues I have with this show are nitpicks and don't affect my enjoyment.
Games Played
The Great Artists
A game with minimal gameplay elements, in which you follow a group of phantom thieves and a detective right before and after a painting gets stolen. You can jump back and forth through time, allowing you to follow different people who are doing things simultaneously, which is the only interactive element. It's cute and interesting, plus I love the art, but I found the lack of interactive elements a little boring. You can get it here on itch.io.
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What do you think will happen if all your joeys meet each other ( like Escape, CoC, ect)?
Call of Cthulhu Joey isn’t mine! He’s designed and played by @inkyvendingmachine so Boo would have to weigh in on that front. I don’t actually have that many Joeys!! Escape Joey is mine, and technically Another Chance Joey (the Boris-ears Joey) is created by me… I THINK THAT’S IT??? Whenever the cthulhu group develops AUs together Boo tends to gravitate to Joey so a lot of those have more development from him than me lmao.
Escape Joey’s general demeanour towards meeting other Joeys would be friendly, happy to talk and learn what their story is. He’s genuinely curious and interested but also wants validation from other Joeys who feel frustrated by their timeline. Another Chance Joey would, I think, also be friendly, but in more of a “keeping up appearances” way, and the more he can bounce off someone else rather than have to talk about who he is now or what he’s done, the better.
Honestly these two are an interesting for want of a nail of each other; both exist after the failure of the Studio and know how badly everything turns out, and both technically experienced ink hell… from pretty different perspectives. But Another Chance Joey is Henry’s housemate while Escape Joey is uh, [checks notes] locked in a shed out back. So things turned out a little different for them. My suspicion is that Escape Joey would have some bitterness about this that he tries to keep to himself, but Another Chance Joey would pick up on the vibes and also be sort of anxious about Escape Joey’s more ink-demon-like qualities… it’s not a meeting he’d be interested in extending.
Anyway this ask has made me realise that I have an Ink Demon Joey and a Boris Joey so all I need is an Alice Joey and I’ll have the whole set???????
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Jonathan keeps careful documentation on all of his corvid companions, with a color coded banding system corresponding to their temperaments and records of their health (as many are rescues brought to him by Selina.)
Nightmare. Self explanatory name. Common raven. Female. Missing right eye. Black band. Very temperamental and aggressive. Has shown little to no concern of larger animals, at times fighting with cats, dogs, and other species.
Craw. Given name. Carrion crow. Male. Molting around neck and left wing, malformed left leg. White band. Friendly, not at all cautious around strangers, more than happy to be pet and carried. A rescue from a drug den, which unfortunately left him in poor health. Cannot fly well on his own.
Mary. After Mary Shelley. American crow. Female. No notable markings. Yellow band. Timid, but not aggressive. Very fond of pens, pencils, paint brushes, and any other writing implements.
Francis. After the protagonist in The Call of Cthulhu. Fish crow. Male. No notable markings. Green band. Timid, but not aggressive. Very quiet, especially compared to his flock, and prefers to watch visitors from afar.
Bette. After Bette Midler. Pied crow. Female. White ring of neck feathers usually kept puffed up. Orange band. Haughty and not fond of being pet. Has a tendency to pull at and/or swipe earrings, necklaces, change, rings, brooches, nails, and anything else remotely shiny.
Macbeth. After the infamously unlucky play and its titular character. American crow. Male. Small scar on the right side of the neck. Red band. Very aggressive and solitary. Doesn’t care for fire or knives. Very suspicious of strangers.
Manson (or Double M). After Marilyn Manson. American crow. Male. No notable markings. Red band. Temperamental, but not as dangerous as Nightmare. Tries to pick fights and bother the other birds, especially Nightmare and Macbeth, other animals, and people.
Roland. After the Warren Zevon song. Rook. Male. No notable markings. Orange band. Cautious, but not innately aggressive. Not fond of loud noises or guns, more than likely to attack.
Ligeia. After the Poe short story. American crow. Female. Eyes are darker than normal, cause unknown. Yellow band. Cautious, but not aggressive. Very inquisitive and curious, investigative of new people and objects.
Rowena. After the second wife of the narrator of the Poe story her sister is named after. American crow. Female. Eyes are somewhat cloudy, the effect of cataracts. Yellow band. Cautious, slightly less so than Ligeia. Often “bickers” with her sister, squawking and snapping amongst each other.
Imitateur. French for (unsurprisingly) Imitator. Fan-tailed raven. Female. No notable markings. Blue band. Very friendly. Gift from Edward, fond of repeating words and phrases.
Hitchcock. After the director. American crow. Male. No notable markings. Yellow band. Solitary and cautious. Observational and very intent on watching things around him. May bite.
Clarice. After the protagonist in Silence of the Lambs. American crow. Female. No notable markings. Green band. Cautious, but not aggressive. Often “talks” with people, making noise and imitating words back to them.
Renfield. After the Dracula character. Carrion crow. Male. Feathers are patchy around his head. Yellow band. A little testy at times, but not usually aggressive. Likes bringing dead rats and mice to “safe people”.
Cash. After Johnny Cash. American crow. Male. No notable markings. Green band. Relatively friendly, though standoffish at times. Has a tendency to repeat snippets of songs, especially from his namesake.
Nelson. After Willie Nelson. American crow. Male. No notable markings. Blue band. Calm and friendly. Also mimics songs.
Kristofferson. After Kris Kristofferson. American crow. Male. No notable markings. Yellow band. Standoffish, but calm. Mimics songs.
Jennings. After Waylon Jennings. American crow. Male. No notable markings. Green band. Relatively friendly. Just like the other three named after the Highwaymen, mimics songs.
Amelia. After Amelia Earhart. American crow. Female. Albino, red eyes, has a few notches in her beak. Green band. Relatively friendly, if a bit cautious. Excellent at flying, especially given she was being attacked by alley cats when I found her.
Puck. After the infamous character from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Pied crow. Female. No notable markings. Yellow band. Mischievous as her namesake, but relatively friendly. A little too good at mischief and mayhem.
Jay. After the titular character in the Great Gatsby (Edwin picked the name). Carrion crow. Male. No notable markings. Yellow band. Fussy and prone to nagging for attention. Far too interested in my glasses. Does not like to be touched.
Jack O’ The Green (just Jack works as well). After the folkloric figure (another name from Edwin). American crow. Male. No notable markings. Blue band. Very friendly and accepting of people. Has a tendency to bring me and, mostly, Edwin leaves, flowers, pebbles, and other small gifts.
Byron. After Lord Byron. Common raven. Male. No notable markings. Green band. Generally friendly, but can be touchy now and again. Mischievous and prone to causing trouble, as well as watching me work. Will also steal pens.
Narcissus. After the Greek mythic figure. Thick billed raven. Male. No notable markings. Yellow band. Generally amicable, but easy to anger. Does not like to be touched. Has something of a fascination with his reflection.
Magdalene. After the biblical figure Mary Magdalene. Rook. Female. Green band. Friendly and calm, appreciates attention and affection. Very social with the other birds, though appears most drawn to myself.
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Cthulhu Nails! :)
Tutorial here
#nails#nail art#nailart#cthulhu#cthullhu nails#cthulhu nail art#hp lovecraft#hp lovecraft nails#call of cthulhu#call of cthulhu nails#cthulhunails#nail design#nailsnails
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the infinite bad finale both killed me dead and inspired a burning desire to write 1) a joy character study and 2) all the Mother-Daughter Occult Adventures she and cornelia definitely had
#how to bond with you daughter whom you love: BEAT BACK THE FORCES OF EVIL TOOTH NAIL AND SUSPICIOUSLY STURDY UMBRELLA#seriously though i'm so happy with the show's run and the ending was...not like a Final Revelation that made everything make sense#but the show was never really about the plot anyway#and it's a great example of how absolutely wonderful all- or mostly-female campaigns can be#especially in a horror setting#...god this is just making me think of how much i want a call of cthulhu campaign where all the pcs are lady relatives of mythos characters#anyway#it was good. i cried. DOROTHY NAMED HER SON AFTER SEBASTIAN!!#LOVE IS REAL!!#notebook
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Michael in the Mainstream: The Passion of the Christ
At what point is it okay to separate the art from the artist, and at what point is doing so simply impossible? Let me give you a few examples to illustrate my thoughts.
In the case of H.P. Lovecraft, I think it’s okay to enjoy his stuff. Yes, the man was virulently racist and xenophobic, and yes, it does tend to bleed into his writing from time to time… But here’s the thing: He’s dead. He’s not making money off this anymore, he’s not naming any cats racial slurs, and he’s thankfully not on Twitter. By reading his stories and using his public domain creations in your own works, you’re not lining his pockets or pushing his agenda. Of course, I believe acknowledging his bad views is important, but I also don’t think buying a Cthulhu plushie means you hate black people.
In the case of JKR, it’s not okay. Rowling is a miserable, virulent TERF who uses feminism and her own past negative experiences as a hammer to beat down trans women every chance she gets. By watching the movies of her work, buying her books, retweeting her, and openly expressing your love for her in fandom, you are in effect advertising for her and funding her hateful agenda. Not to mention she has tons of racist, transphobic, and anti-Semitic themes woven into the very fabric of her works. This woman ruined goblins, and that alone is a sin more unforgivable than any curse she could ever write. Now, if she dies (or better yet, is assassinated), and hate groups no longer profit from her, then I think liking her shit is fine. Whatever. If JKR is down having tea with her like-minded buddy Thatcher in Hell, I think watching Daniel Radcliffe and Alan Rickman transform her awful prose into something watchable can be done guilt-free.
And for when it’s impossible… Well, I think Mel Gibson nailing Jesus to the cross is about the point where you can’t ignore subtext anymore and you’ve gotta quit that cold turkey.
Yes, I’m not kidding. Gibson’s hands are the one hammering those nails into the Lord, and that one simple fact undermines the entire story and just serves to highlight how demented and evil Gibson truly is. For those who are blessed not to know who Gibson is, he is a miserable washed-up action star who was the lead in films like Mad Max and Lethal Weapon, franchises that would have been enough for him to coast by on goodwill for the rest of his life… But then he had to go and blow it all. Racist rants. Horrific anti-Semitism. Conservativism, the list surprising thing here since it really only makes sense he’d be right-wing considering the other stuff.
And then here he is, making a movie about one of the most beloved Jewish men in history being brutally maimed, tortured, and executed, and he’s the one pulling the metaphorical trigger. It’s unsurprising every conservative dimwit from film critics to Bill O’Reilly bent over backwards to defend this, but goddamn Roger Ebert? He gave this movie four stars, denied anti-Semitism, and called it the most important version of this story ever? Seriously? I couldn’t even charitably call it a good version of the story. Look, I get it. I get the Passion is about his sacrifice, that’s all well and good. And I get that it wasn’t pretty. But the way this is filmed, the way it lingers on our boy JC’s suffering… It feels less like an honest and frank attempt at spirituality on Gibson’s part and more like self-serving torture porn so he can live out his twisted fantasies.
It’s not even possible for me to praise the things that, in other contexts, would be worth praising. All of it being subtitled, the set design, the acting, how can I lavish any praise on it when it is a hateful movie made by a hateful man? It’s impossible here. Gibson is a despicable, evil man and it really seeps into this film, especially with how he portrays the Jews. In her own review, Katha Pollitt said "Gibson has violated just about every precept of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops own 1988 'Criteria' for the portrayal of Jews in dramatizations of the Passion (no bloodthirsty Jews, no rabble, no use of Scripture that reinforces negative stereotypes of Jews.) … The priests have big noses and gnarly faces, lumpish bodies, yellow teeth; Herod Antipas and his court are a bizarre collection of oily-haired, epicene perverts. The 'good Jews' look like Italian movie stars (Magdalene actually is an Italian movie star, the lovely Monica Bellucci); Jesus's mother, who would have been around 50 and appeared 70, could pass for a ripe 35." Rowling would be proud of this crap. It’s just a miserable, miserable movie, and yes that’s part of the point but it’s impossible not to read into it in the worst ways because of who Gibson is.
Gibson has never even apologized for how he is. People like Robert Downey, Jr. have called for us to forgive him, but what has he ever done to deserve it? He just keeps on being an evil man, saluting Trump and acting in racist movies alongside fellow right-wing hack Vince Vaughn, while reaping in all kinds of rewards for his directorial efforts. He barely suffered at all for his horrifying, toxic behavior, but he gets to lay claim to having the most controversial film ever made, and it’s not even controversial for the right reasons. I remember people being more up in arms over the violence than anything, and yeah, the violence is so over-the-top to the point of being unnecessary, but I think Mel’s rampant bigotry seeping through the screen is the bigger issue here.
There is literally no reason to watch this movie. You want a better look at the final days of Jesus? Scorecese made The Last Temptation of Christ. Don’t want to feel miserable while watching Jesus die? Jesus Christ Superstar is right there. Do you absolutely have to watch a version of Jesus that has the involvement of a stupid old bigot? The Life of Brian is right there. All that The Passion has to offer viewers is misery, brutality, bleakness, suffering, and bigotry, and we get enough of that in the real world without watching it on the screen. If Gibson really wanted to make a beautiful and personal film about Jesus, maybe he should have done a more wholesome and uplifting part of His life, instead of the part where He is literally murdered. If this is what Gibson thinks faith is, that really says more about him than anything else ever could.
Fuck this movie, and fuck Mel Gibson.
#Michael in the Mainstream#MITM#review#movie review#The Passion of the Christ#Mel Gibson#Jesus Christ#Easter#violence
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Holt the Witch’s Familiar; M Cat Familiar x F Human, NSFW Monster Match
Monster Match for @moonlightreetops: What I usually look for in a partner is someone that is the equivalent to bedrock personality wise. I need stability and understanding in some sort of way to make me feel secure in a relationship...I collect macabre trinkets and spend most of my time doing little creative projects. I watch scifi flix, anime and play DND so big geek vibes here
I was *determined* to give him the name of an actual, historical familiar, and I didn’t name him Vinegar Tom, so YOU’RE WELCOME. Also, I left a TON of Holt on the cutting room floor, so there will likely be a sequel to this down the road!
The doll had a particularly creepy face.
“Miss Claudette is from the mid-eighteen hundreds,” the female auctioneer read, “once belonging to a privileged little girl of the era, she is a magnificent model of the expectations of a typical Victorian lady.”
You bit your lip in anticipation as hands reached into the frame, turning the doll on her pedestal to show off the detailing on the dress; the creepy, painted bisque face forgotten.
You had no idea who he was—he never spoke, never stepped into the frame, never did anything other than manipulate the items at the behest of the sultry voiced woman in charge, but you’d be lying if you pretended he wasn’t the reason you kept tuning in week after week to their oddity auction, his lovely hands and the banter afterwards.
Long and white and sculpted, veins and tendons standing out in relief, his hands were their own work of art, like a living sculpture. The endlessly long fingers were tipped in equally lengthy nails, painted matte black and ending in lethal-looking points, you supposed calling them claws would likely be more accurate.
You wondered, not for the first time, if he were a werewolf, or some similar creature.
He wouldn’t have the nails all the time, you reminded yourself, thinking of what Kenzie had said. The chipper werewolf had been in your gaming group for several months, a welcome addition, for geeky clubs tended to be overrun with guys, and you’d become friendly with her almost immediately, bonding over a shared love of anime and crafting. You’d casually wondered aloud if werecreatures retained elements of their bestial side, like sharp claws, perhaps, but the freckle-faced young woman had quashed your supposition.
“Nope,” she’d announced cheerfully, seating herself at the gaming table. “Unless it’s like, the day of the change, maybe.”
You had no idea who or what he was, but conversing with him after the auction each week had become a bright spot in your weekend calendar.
It had started when you discovered the wonderful, weird world of oddities auctions run weekly on Instagram. You’d always had a penchant for the macabre and had amassed a nice little collection over the years, but now small businesses were hurting and you could enjoy oddity shopping from the comfort of your phone. You’d heard of the Cat & Crow but had never made the drive to the neighboring city to visit the shop in person, and were excited to see what they had to offer.
“Welcome everyone to the Cat & Crow, thanks for joining us today.”
The woman before the camera wore the uniform of every other social media witch you followed—trendy, artfully tattered black clothes, her raven-colored hair done up in a crown of braids and dreadlocks; her eyeliner expertly winged, tattoos that appeared to be tree branches reaching across her clavicle, with half a dozen rings on each hand.
“Winners, Holt will be contacting you directly at the auction’s end, please be ready with your method of payment. We’ve got a lot of unique items to get through today, so let's get started!”
It wasn’t until the third week you’d tuned in that you’d chatted with the mysterious Holt. You’d been outbid on several of the items you liked, but managed to snag two others, including a victorian poison ring, and he’d recognized your screen name.
Hello again! What were you the big winner of this week? Lot 23 and 47...the onyx and gold poison ring and the pocket-sized surgical tool set. Hmm! Big weekend plans?
You’d laughed aloud at your laptop, cheeks coloring despite the fact you were alone. Nothing nefarious as all that, I swear! Although my table game group had better stay on their toes tonight…
Oh fun! I used to belong to one of those before I moved. So what are you guys playing right now?
After that week, he asked after your game group at the end of every auction. You told him of the hours-long game of Catan, the entire month of Call of Cthulhu, the bickering session that had broken out over a game of Azule.
That sounds great actually. I need to start doing fun things again, since we’ve started the auctions I feel like I’m working 24/7.
You bit your lip now, thinking of his words from the previous week.
After the creepy doll had been some Templar altar piece, a hand of glory with only one candle remaining, and a terrifying victorian wind-up toy, and the only thing to which you’d paid attention was his hands and his sharp claws, shifting things around as the witchy-looking woman spoke.
You’d realized your shopping habit had become more expensive than you’d initially counted on, and that for the last several weeks you were truly only bidding on items as a way to talk to him after the auction’s close. Just ask him. You don’t need to buy anything today, you don’t even like the stuff! Just take a deep breath and do it. Deciding the voice in your head was right, you did as it advised, sucking in a breath and leaning over your keyboard before you changed your mind.
Hi! Not a winner this week, nothing really caught my eye. You swallowed hard, pushing on. I wanted to invite you to join our group sometime! We meet every Saturday at the Melted Meeple, so tonight, lol! You grimaced at yourself, but persevered. We’re just playing CAH right now, but there’s talk of a D&D campaign starting up. The more the merrier!
You waited a minute, then two, before pushing yourself up from the desk. If he didn’t respond, it wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself. He was working, after all, and you really did need to get ready to go meet your friends that evening. Hair fluffed, clothes changed, the handful of dishes you’d left in the sink washed and put away...you went back to your laptop just before you needed to get going, holding your breath as you looked at the screen.
That sounds great! I have to finish things up here, but hopefully I won’t be too late. This will be fun, I feel like we’re old friends at this point!
You told yourself the bounce in your step as you left was simply because it was a nice evening, that you were happy to spend time with your friends and nothing more. That’s it. Just another normal night.
.
.
“So what are you going to do?” you asked him for the dozenth time that evening, before biting into a crust of melty cheese, your eyes rolling back in bliss. The Melted Meeple specialized in gaming and grilled cheese, and they excelled at both.
Holt shrugged, spearing a sweet potato fry. He was a finicky eater, carefully cutting things with a knife and fork, scrutinizing the menu every week as though it were the first time he’d seen it, before ordering the exact same thing. He took his time with things and could not be rushed—spearing his fries one at a time, swirling the straw in his drink until the ice had all but melted into the alcohol—and as a result, the two of you spent more time tucked away at your own little table than you did playing the group’s game, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
You were smitten.
You’d been a nervous wreck that first night, raising your head anxiously every time the Meeple’s great doors were pulled open, but you did your best to hide it from your friends. You were used to being the steady one, after all, the one who gave advice and provided a ready shoulder for the whole group...you didn’t begrudge your friends their drama and woes, but it made it hard when you had your own anxieties and nowhere to turn.
Kenzie had dropped into the seat next to you, had been going on about the latest disaster with her boyfriend when her head had snapped up, nose wrinkled.
“Ugh, cat. It’s too close to the moon to deal with smelling that.”
You hadn’t noticed the door pulling open, and weren’t entirely sure how he’d managed to do it silently, but a man who’d not been standing before the entrance a moment earlier had stood there then, his citron-green cat eyes scanning the room hesitantly. You’d known it was him instantly.
Thick raven-colored hair and bone-white skin, slim black jeans and a black leather jacket atop a blood red shirt, he was a fitting counterpart to the witch who ran the oddity auction. One of his thick, arched black brows had cocked hopefully when they landed on you staring at him, and you raised a hesitant hand in greeting, smiling when his lips split, revealing a row of blinding white teeth. You took note of the long, hooked incisors in his smile.
“Is he a werecat?” you’d hissed to Kenzie as he made his way across the huge room.
She’d sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose again. “No. Just...just a cat. I don’t get it. I’m going to grab a drink before the next game starts, you want anything?”
He was a familiar, you’d learned. A witch’s familiar, a sleek black cat when he wasn’t the handsome, slightly goth-looking man sitting across from you. His witch, the auctioneer, Arabeth the mistress of Crows—“Bethany,” he’d corrected flatly, rolling his eyes—was his business partner and co-owner of the Cat & Crow, a naturally gifted witch with no direction or commitment to the craft, according to him.
“Let me tell you, working in retail was not a career ambition for me,” he’d laughed that first night, as the two of you sat at your own small table away from the group, sharing a basket of fries before joining the game. “But the shop is successful and it keeps me busy, since she’s all but abandoned her path.”
By the end of the night, your stomach had been a riot of butterflies. He was stable and confident, a sharp departure from the majority of your friend group, you’d realized. Stable and confident, and ridiculously good looking. You’d thought he was of a middling height when you’d been seated, but he towered over you, engulfing you in a hug at the evening’s end.
“This was a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me!”
“Every Saturday,” you replied breathlessly, trying to restrain yourself from burying your face against his solid chest. You didn’t know what Kenzie was talking about, he didn’t smell like a cat at all—he smelled like black musk and pine, making you think of a dark forest on an autumn night, masculine and sexual…“I hope you’ll join us again!”
“If you’ll be here, I definitely will,” he’d said, giving you another one of those sharp-edged smiles, his eyes glowing on the dark street.
That had been over a month ago, and you were head-over heels in your crush.
He’d joined you every Saturday, and it had become your custom to eat together, away from the group before joining in whatever game was starting. When both Kenzie and another friend had flaked on going furniture shopping with you, he’d taken their place, doing the heavy lifting, putting together a bookcase, and paying for dinner afterwards, despite your insistence to the contrary. It was a revelation, having someone there to hear your problems, and you were happy to do the same, whenever he came in grumbling about his deteriorating relationship with his witch.
When your gaming group began planning its Dungeons and Dragons campaign at last, you discovered Holt had never played and wasn’t familiar with any of the rules.
“First we have to decide your character,” you explained, pushing a character sheet across the table. “Race, attributions, what you’d like your strengths to be…”
“Tell me again why I can’t be a bard who’s also a sorcerer.”
“You can cast spells as a bard! We’ve been through this!”
“I want to be sneaky and magical and have everyone love me.”
You’d come to the Cat & Crow once, popping in unannounced, and had seen him in his cat form. Sleek and sinuous, jet black with bright green eyes, the black cat had rubbed up against your ankles as you’d stood there, after being greeted by the friendly-seeming witch, mewling determinedly before darting off into the back room. Holt had come breezing out a moment later, announcing to Bethany that you were going out for sushi and would be back in an hour.
“So basically you just want to play yourself,” you laughed, receiving a not-at-all angelic smile in return.
It was the first grownup relationship you’d ever had, you’d realized with a start that evening. You loved your friends and wouldn’t change a thing about them, but it was nice not playing therapist, having a solid give-and-take of support. Your first real adult relationship, and it’s completely one sided. Brava.
Still, you thought, when he slinked through the Melted Meeple’s doors that night, dropping into a chair gracefully and announcing he was officially a free agent familiar, you were glad for the opportunity to listen, knowing he’d be just as present and solid for you.
He shrugged at your repeated question. “Go to the agency on Monday, file for a new witch, I guess.”
“Does...does that mean you’ll have to move? What if they pair you with a witch on the other side of the world? What about the shop?”
His laugh was a dark curl, full of mirth. “Nothing archaic like that. This is where I live, the shop is my day job. We’re still business partners, but she’s quitting the craft entirely and I don’t have that luxury. The magic world is ninety percent bureaucracy and paperwork, it’ll probably be at least a year before they even get to my file.”
“Oh, that’s-that’s good,” you sighed in relief, not wanting to contemplate what would happen if he had to move away. “Good! You’ll have more free time now!”
Holt’s smile was wide, the light overhead winking off his fangs as leaned across the table. “And I know just who I’m going to spend it with,” he purred, before catching your lips with his own.
.
.
You hadn’t really known what to expect from the home of a familiar—a part of you was expecting some gothic lair with dripping candles and some ancient book of dark spellwork on a pedestal—but a completely average garden-level apartment on a tight lane of historic brownstones had not been it. The neighborhood was trendy: full of crowded little bistros with packed, street-side patios and bars boasting craft cocktails on swirling chalk signs outside their doors. You didn’t mind an occasional foray into adventure, but you couldn’t imagine living somewhere so noisy and bustling.
“Here we are,” Holt announced, tugging your hand and carefully leading you down the short stairwell in front of the dark-bricked building. “The neighborhood is great, but I love my little dungeon.”
You understood his meaning the moment the door closed behind you. The apartment was small but tidy, with plush-looking furniture and towering bookshelves, each crammed with curios, macabre trinkets and gimcrack. The street-level windows did little to illuminate the space, giving it a dim, cloistered feeling, amplified by the red-shaded lamps on either side of the sofa.
Long-fingered hands encircled your waist, claws dragging lightly over your stomach, sending a shiver up your spine and reminding you remembered why you were here. You were terribly aware of your own heartbeat when warm lips pressed to the back of your neck, hot breath and the glance of fangs moving over your delicate skin, and your head tilted on its own accord, giving him better access.
“It looks like a bordello in this place,” you mused, laughing when you felt his outraged gasp against your shoulder.
“Slander!” he exclaimed, the press of his hot tongue making your back arch, “calumny and lies. I demand restitution.”
It had been two weeks since he’d kissed you over your grilled cheese sandwich, two weeks of making out like teenagers and groping each other on the street corner every Saturday, two weeks of thinking about him every night, waking heated and flushed in your bed with an ache between your thighs and slick coating your fingers, and tonight you’d decided enough was enough.
He was steady and confident and reliable, but you’d noticed that he deferred to you in almost every matter. If you asked his opinion, he gave it; if you told him he was in charge of the evening’s plans, he already had one, but he let you control the direction of things rather than steamrolling you, and you wondered if it was something he was compelled to do as a familiar. You’ve got to be the one who makes the first move, you realized. Then he’ll take over and you can stop panicking.
“I think,” you murmured into his ear that night, as you sat on the edge of the gaming table, waiting to join in on the next round, “you should show me your apartment tonight, and we can work on your rolls.” The D&D campaign had started, and two sessions in the entire campaign had been entirely waylaid by a troublesome tiefling character who refused to follow the group’s initiative, and Holt had been smug that he’d not been the new player to cause problems.
“Hmmm,” he hummed, green eyes flashing, “we can do other things while we’re there.”
The apartment was dark, but somehow you were led to the bedroom without tripping over anything, the bedding beneath you cool and thick as Holt pressed you to your back. His eyes were glowing green orbs, rapidly growing closer until your lips were captured by his own, the kiss breaking off abruptly when he leaned over your body to turn on the bedside lamp.
“What do I need to roll for seduction?”
The bed rocked as he reached back from where he straddled your body, pulling off your sandals and sending them sailing across the room. “I’m serious!” he insisted when you laughed again. “This is a serious game, remember? I don’t want to be the one who gets the whole party kicked out of a tavern.”
“Well, if you’re serious,” you began, breath hitching as your top was pushed up your body, claws dragging over the newly-exposed skin, “then you should know you can’t actually roll seduction, it’s not a skill.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.”
You couldn't find fault in his words as your bra was deftly unhooked and pulled away, the heat of his mouth closing over the tip of your breast before you had a chance to be chilled. The tips of his clawed hand continued to move in soft patterns over your side as his tongue worked, teasing your nipple before sucking, biting ever-so-gently before releasing it with a wet pop.
“Are you sure I can’t roll seduction? I am a magical bard, after all.”
“Nope,” you corrected on a gasp. His mouth had moved to your other breast, giving it the same treatment until both nipples were pebbled and aching. “Seduction isn’t a skill. You can roll for deception, if you have ulterior motives.”
“Absolutely not. There you go again with the slander. What about...persuasion? Can I roll persuasion as a means of seduction?”
You unbuttoned the dark shirt he wore as he spoke, pushing apart the fabric to reveal the long, lithe shape of him above you. Broad shouldered but slender, Holt possessed none of the bulk the werewolf you’d gone out with a few times last year had. Tightly muscled and well-defined, your own clawless fingers moved down his chest, following the trail of dark hair down the hard plane of his stomach until you reached the thick bulge at the front of his jeans. The noise that emitted from his throat as you stroked the hard shape of him was very nearly a purr, and you smiled hugely, deciding to let him do his best.
“Sure, why not,” you smiled, pulling open his belt. “But I might want a perception check. Gotta check out your staff of persuasion first, make sure its on the up and up.”
You let out an undignified squeak when your skirt and knickers were pulled down as he rose, shucking his jeans before climbing over your body slowly, and you were clearly able to picture him as the giant, stalking cat you knew he occasionally was.
The soft drag of his claws over your thighs made you gasp, legs falling open, and the knuckle that pressed into your folds found you slick and eager.
“I’m glad you invited me to join the group,” he purred against your lips, sharp teeth catching them gently in a kiss. “Even if I don’t know any of the rules.”
The hard press of his erection was a molten heat against your hip and you shuddered out a breath, wanting to take him in hand but enjoying the press of his body against yours too much to force him to move. “I-I am too.”
Between your legs, his hand was buried against your sex. His sharp claws were tucked back, a finger on either side of your clit, knuckles kneading into the sensitive flesh until your hips were bucking upward to meet his hand, kneading and rolling, over and over until you were seeing stars. Pressure built behind your navel with every roll over the exposed bud of flesh, and you keened.
“I’m still having fun,” Holt went on, mouth stretching into a wide Cheshire cat-like smile, “and isn’t that the point of a game?”
The band of pressure snapped and you arched against him as throb after throb of pleasure pulsed through you. Your thighs tightened around his wrist, trapping his hand in place, and he hummed in amusement, fingers still moving as you gasped and shook, his lips pressing to yours lightly when you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“I’d like to seduce you, please,” he purred, waggling his dark eyebrows. “I’m being as persuasive as possible.”
His cock was still hot when you wrapped a hand around it, giving his shaft a firm pump, dragging upwards until your fingers reached his swollen head. “You really are a big cat,” you observed when the repeated motion drew a vibrating rumble from his chest, before edging closer to the foot of the bed. His smart-assed reply was lost to another rumble when you licked a broad stripe over his exposed head, laving your tongue over the bead of moisture there.
There were several rings of nodules at the base of his head, you realized, mimicking the sharp barbs he might possess in his cat form, and you wondered how they would feel inside of you. The sharp points of his nails dragged through your hair as you sucked him into your mouth, swirling your tongue before lowering your head down his shaft, bobbing your head several times before his clawed hands were tugging you upwards.
You were reminded of his speed on the day the black cat in the shop had gone darting off to the back room in a blink of an eye when he flipped you, you cheek pressed to the mattress as he kissed up your spine, raising your hips. You felt the leaking tip of his cockhead press to your slick folds, sliding up and down before finally pushing into you, hilting himself in one thrust.
You hadn’t intended on finding a relationship, only some fun new additions to your curio shelf, you thought as has pumped into you, those textured nodules dragging deliciously over your inner walls. Claws dragged over your skin as you clenched around him, unable to stop the moan which broke from your mouth. You hadn’t been looking for a relationship, but one had found you anyway.
When his hand found its way back between your thighs, you were lost. Already gasping with every thrust of his textured cock, as soon as the rough pads of his fingers began circling your clit, you felt your tentative control slip, your core clenching and spasming around him before you were filled with heat, his rumbling purr vibrating against you as he came.
The comforter was thick and soft when he pulled it over you, once he’d withdrawn and quickly cleaned you up. Thick and soft and incredibly warm, snuggled against his chest.
“I have a confession to make.” You craned your neck up to find Holt peering down, one of his thick, dark brows cocked curiously. “You can’t actually play persuasion or deception against another player’s character. Everyone has their own freewill and agency, it doesn’t matter how silver-tongued the party’s bard is.”
“Do you mean to tell me I wasted a perfectly good persuasion play?”
“It was unnecessary but not without merit!” you yelped as he flipped you to your back, giving you his best glower as he straddled your hips. “You’ve convinced me!”
“Oh, just you wait. I am going to cast so many spells on you once once we finally get out of the bloody tavern.”
The bed, you realized, had begun to levitate, and now hung suspended in the air as you squealed. He really was a magical, sneaky bard.
“You can’t do that either,” you laughed after the bed dropped, shaking the walls. “No spells on teammates.”
“There are too many rules to this game,” he griped, pressing his cheek to your breast. You wrapped your arms around him, pushing your fingers through his thick hair. Give and take. Solid for each other.
“You have plenty of time to learn.”
His purr vibrated against you before he wriggled free from your arms to fix the blanket, pulling you against him as he resettled. “It’s a good thing I have an excellent teacher.”
#monsterbait writes#exophilia#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster x reader#m monster x female reader#monster x human#monster match#monster matchmaker#witch's familiar#black cat
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100% honest truth: Dan and David Day’s cover for Demon Magic (1985) is one of my all time favorite pieces of RPG art. I love everything about it. How it sticks to classic reptilian demon traits, how stylized it is (verging on cartoonish), the posture (you can almost hear its wheezing cackle), the flames in the background, the symbol of Chaos on the bracer. I love it all so much. It feels dangerous (it is called Demon Magic for Pete’s sake!) but also not scary at all. This dude should be the mascot for a second rate heavy metal band.
Like all the other Chaosium companion books, this one is a potpourri of stuff. There are rules from bolting on Call of Cthulhu’s sanity system, some new demon abilities, some runes. Most of the book is dedicated to two scenarios. The first, Sorcerer’s Isle, is OK. The other, The Velvet Circle by Larry “Masks of Nyarlathotep” DiTillio, is excellent. It is honestly kind of annoying how DiTillio shows up for like one adventure for every Chaosium game, nails it and moves on. What a jerk right? (I am totally kidding, I love DiTillio).
#RPG#TTRPG#TabletopRPG#roleplayinggame#Stormbringer#Chaosium#DemonMagic#LarryDiTillio#DanDay#DavidDay#D&D#Dungeons & Dragons
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a storm in your eyes (lightning and dark skies)
It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form.
His best friend.
Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.
(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.)
–
Notes: Thank you so much to @snek-snacc, @smileyzs, @confused-sunflower, @xaimelarks, and all my other followers for putting up with me ranting about this story, and helping me edit. Y’all are the best!
Edit: After publishing this, I got this AMAZING piece of art from @ent-is-undecisive / @birdsongisland! Go check them out, because they’re insanely talented, and looking at this piece makes me so so so happy!
Two sequels also exist for this now!
waffles and wedding vows (promises and proof)
songs and stars and silence (of loving you)
Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Romantic Analogical, background romantic Royaliceit, background romantic Intrusleep/rem^2, platonic drlamper
Words: 6885
Ao3
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Logan Sanders falls in love with a thunderstorm.
Well, not a thunderstorm, exactly. As far as Logan knows (and he knows quite a lot), a tempest, no matter how powerful, cannot take the form of a human.
Still, the first time the boy with a hurricane’s eyes enters Mugnificent (the coffee shop Logan very reluctantly works at), he swears the smell of ozone fills the air.
His name is Virgil Foley, and he sweeps into Logan’s life like a summer storm, filling it with wind and chaos and unmatched wild beauty.
The first time they meet, it is 5:26 in the morning, and he’s considering revolt. Yes, he needs this job to supplement his scholarship, but being up this early is awful enough to warrant mutiny. Besides, customers are few this early in the day, and thus the tip jar is woefully empty.
The door opens with a ding
(there is a smell like lightning)
and in walks a person with dark hair tied in a bun under a black beanie, rummaging around in their backpack. Their bag is covered in pins, and Logan notes a rainbow one near the center.
“Hey,” they say, and he meets eyes the color of stormclouds, a grey bordering on purple and blue simultaneously. “Can I just get a small coffee, please? Black is fine.”
“Yeah,” Logan nods. “Name?”
They glance around the empty Mugnificent with a raised eyebrow, but reply with “Virgil,” anyways.
“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” says Logan, and he’s not normally one for small talk, but he also is sleep-deprived, and too tired to have any sort of filter. “I’m Logan.”
Virgil relaxes, and they hold out a hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, too. I use he/him pronouns, by the way.”
“Ah, yes,” Logan nods, returning the handshake. “He/him for me, as well, thank you.”
Virgil pays and waits by the counter as Logan goes to prepare the coffee, scrolling through his phone. There is a comfortable silence as he makes the drink, which Logan spends mentally cursing out Roman, his coworker who was supposed to arrive for work thirty minutes ago. “Here,” he says finally, holding out the cup for Virgil to take.
“Thanks.” Virgil is wearing fingerless gloves, and his nails are painted a bright purple. They shine in the fluorescent lighting. “Have a nice day, Logan.”
“You too,” he replies, and it seems too little. Logan doesn’t believe in magic, or gods, or destiny, but as he watches Virgil turn, about to walk out the door, something twangs in his chest. Despite himself, Logan opens his mouth, searching for something to say, anything that will make him stay.
He blinks, about to speak, and Virgil is gone.
A few minutes later, it begins to rain.
–
The second time he meets Virgil, it is in his psych class.
Logan has always liked psychology. It’s fascinating how the human brain works, he thinks, and even if he isn’t always so good at understanding emotions, he’s quite good at the science behind them. His appreciation for said science is the only reason he signs up for the class at all, when it has practically nothing to do with his astrophysics major.
He’s just about forgotten about the boy with eyes of a storm by the time he sits down for the first psychology class of the semester, pulling his computer and textbooks out of his own bag, and setting them before him. Logan cracks the knuckles on each hand individually, a nervous habit he’s had since he was in high school. He’s done his best to break it, but he supposes, as annoying as it is, it’s better than some of the alternatives.
Case in point, the boy from Mugnificent, who walks into the room nervously tapping his thigh while chewing at his lip. There’s a split in it, one that shines a bright red against the chapped surface, and Logan wants to wince just looking at it.
His eyes flash with recognition as he spots Logan in one of the back rows, and he pauses. “Logan, right? From the coffee place.”
“And you’re Virgil,” Logan smiles, and okay, maybe he hadn’t forgotten Virgil so much as attempted to forget him.
“Can I sit there?” he asks, nodding to the seat beside Logan.
It turns out Virgil is smart, and funny, and just a little bit snarky, and a English major minoring in psychology. He’s got all kinds of nervous habits, chewing on his lip and tapping out rhythms known only to him and drawing on every available surface, and Logan often notices a tendril of ink wrapping around one of his fingers from under his gloves.
They become fast friends, him and Virgil, bonding over a love for space and science and poetry. He starts coming to Mugnificent for coffee more often, and Roman teases Logan incessantly about it.
“You’re finally making friends!” he pretends to sob, throwing his arms around him, and he has to shove Roman away, rolling his eyes. Virgil is stifling a laugh behind one gloved hand, and Logan mouths “Traitor,” at him, though he isn’t really mad at all.
They fall into patterns -- psych and history and statistics together, always seated side by side, sometimes accompanied by Roman or Patton or Remus or Janus or any one of their expanding circle of friends. The two of them buy each other coffee, edit essays, go out for junk food (that Logan complains about but secretly loves) with their friends.
Virgil begs to paint Logan’s nails one night as they watch documentaries together in Patton and Virgil’s dorm room. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly as he focuses on the tiny white dots he’s adding, and Logan ends up loving the night sky that graces his fingers. In return, Logan styles Virgil’s long hair into a crown of braids.
“Your Majesty,” he bows as he leads Virgil to the mirror.
“If I’m royalty now, I demand a feast to celebrate,” Virgil grins, admiring his hair. “Sir Logan, this calls for pizza!”
“All the junk food you consume is going to kill you one day,” Logan sighs, but he’s already dialing their favorite pizza place.
They eat dinner seated on the floor, holding paper plates and drinking soda as they watch Cosmos. Patton returns to the dorm a few minutes later, accompanied by Janus and Roman both, and snags some of the pizza for himself – luckily, they’d thought to order extra, as soon Remus, Remy, and Emile all show up, too, crowding into the dorm room and around Logan’s laptop. The documentary is switched to Big Hero 6, Virgil showing off his hair and Logan his nails as the others admire them. Soon Virgil is breaking out his nail polish again, painting delicate puppies on Patton’s fingers, and Logan is teaching Roman how to do the same hairstyle on Emile’s curls.
It’s a Saturday night, so they feel comfortable all crashing in Patton and Virgil’s room, squeezing far too many young adults into one small space. Emile giggles that it reminds them of sleepovers they went to when they were in elementary school, and Remus points out that they ought to play Truth or Dare with a manic grin. Virgil quickly puts a stop to that, however, distracting Remus with conspiracy theories and carving marshmallows to look like Lovecraftian monsters, and Logan wants to laugh because Virgil is very much a mom friend, despite his protests to the contrary. Still, as he sips hot cocoa with a marshmallow Cthulhu staring up at him from the mug, he has to admit it was a good idea. They all get into the fun, carving marshmallows with whatever cutlery Patton and Virgil have in their room, and eventually Monster Mallows will become a tradition for all of their friend group.
When he falls asleep that night, lying on the floor in the blanket fort Patton and Roman had insisted on building, he dreams of rain and lightning, across dark skies that resemble Virgil’s eyes.
–
Logan realizes Virgil is his best friend in the middle of winter, when he shows up at Mugnificent at the end of his shift, ordering two coffees and taking them as Logan gets ready to leave. “Sorry, Roman,” Virgil says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all as he hands Logan one of the drinks and reaches out to hold his other hand. “C’mon, L, we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to get there in time.”
“Where are we going?” Logan raises an eyebrow, throwing on his coat and waving goodbye to Roman (who is saying something dramatic about a grievous betrayal) as he sips at the coffee. It’s perfect, his order exactly.
“Look!” Virgil grins as they leave the coffee shop, and it’s snowing, white flakes falling around them and coating the ground. Some of the cars nearby are already covered in it. “C’mon, we’ve got to get to the park.”
“Wait, why?” he asks. “Virgil, this looks rather like the makings of a blizzard. We should probably go back to our dorms so we can prepare if we get snowed in.”
“I know it’s a snowstorm,” Virgil rolls his eyes, and his stormy eyes are bluer than Logan’s ever seen them, shining with excitement. “Now, let’s go!”
Logan should probably argue more, but he’s laughing as he gets pulled along, the two half-running towards the park.
They slow down at the top of a hill already lightly coated with snow, and Virgil reaches into his bag to pull out a picnic blanket. “No,” Logan protests, but he’s cackling as Virgil yells “Snow picnic!” and spreads it over the snow.
“This is going to turn into a blizzard,” he manages to say, stifling his giggles. “We are going to be buried alive because you wanted to have a picnic in a snowstorm.”
“Oh, shush,” Virgil grins, flopping down onto the blanket and digging into his bag again to retrieve two bagels wrapped in tinfoil. “Drink your coffee and watch the snow with me, Logan Sanders.”
The bagel he hands Logan has Crofters jam instead of cream cheese spread across it, still warm from toasting, and Logan could kiss Virgil if they weren’t very platonic…
Well, it feels like they are a whole lot more than friends, at this point. There’s something about their relationship that feels different from the ones Logan has with their other companions, be it Remus or Emile, Patton or Janus, Roman or Remy.
Are they best friends?
He asks, and Virgil merely grins and says “I hope so.”
It’s amazing, lying there as they watch the sky, munching on bagels and sipping at their coffee and pointing out oddly shaped clouds. Virgil is practically covered in snowflakes by the time they have to leave, the wind picking up too much to stay, and Logan is no better. Still, he thinks it was worth it, even when he gets a cold and has to spend the weekend curled up in blankets, sneezing and coughing as he works on his essay for his cosmology class. Virgil gets a cold, too, and they end up on the phone together as they work, Virgil blasting music on his end and Logan parroting his roommate’s consistent reminders to take medicine, and drink some water!
Emile seems to think it’s cute, for some reason, and they tell Logan to say hi to Virgil for them, a smile playing on their lips that he’s too sick to interpret.
–
Logan has a crush on a boy in their shared statistics class by March, the one who sits three rows in front of him and two seats to the right, who has green hair and a cheerful grin. Virgil listens patiently about it whenever Logan brings it up, and when they have to pair up for a final project, he pushes him towards his crush, joining Remus instead.
He finds out his crush already has a romantic partner in a strictly monogamous relationship when they’re nearly done with the project, and Virgil shows up to Logan’s dorm room with ice cream and his laptop that night, pulling aside Emile as he comes in and whispering something to him. Emile leaves shortly after, and the two of them are alone.
“What did you tell Emile?” Logan asks later, when they’re sitting on his bed and watching trashy teenage romcoms, because, according to Virgil, “This way, you won’t associate any good movies with this.”
“Well, Patton invited him for a ‘sleepover,’” Virgil says, eating directly from the carton of chocolate ice cream, gaze shifting from the screen to Logan. “Did the moment he saw your text on the groupchat.”
Logan had texted that his crush has a partner when Roman had begun teasing him about it on said chat. Looking back, it may not have been the best of decisions, but all he wants to do right now is curl into the comforter and watch bad movies, while simultaneously eating unholy amounts of ice cream.
“It’s not a big deal,” he protests, pulling the blankets closer around him.
“Listen, L, you’re sad ‘cause the boy you like… well, you know. Anyways, you being sad is a big deal, at least to us.” Virgil isn’t wearing his normal clothes, only a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt (Logan knows he ran over in his nightwear, which makes him feel worse), so he can see the ink covering his hands, smudged in places.
“Why do you draw on yourself so much?” He leans over to look at the patterns of spirals winding their way up Virgil’s arms, tracing them with one finger. “That much ink can’t be good for your skin, pretty as it is, Vee.”
Virgil bats his hand away, blushing behind his curtains of dark hair, and Logan laughs. “It’s just a nervous habit, okay?” he exclaims, and Logan pokes his cheek, cooing.
“Aw, lookit you,” he smiles, and even though Logan’s heart hurts from what happened with his crush, he doesn’t think he would trade anything for his friendship with Virgil Foley. “So cute.”
“I’m not cute,” Virgil grumbles, pressing play on the computer. “Watch the shitty movie and shush, nerd.”
He gets over the boy from statistics eventually, and gets an A on the project, which Roman insists they celebrate with breakfast at Logan’s favorite diner on campus. (Logan’s pretty sure Roman just feels guilty about teasing him about it, but he goes anyways, pulling his friend aside later to tell him it’s fine.)
–
They return from summer vacation changed. Janus, Patton, and Roman are dating now, for one thing, and it’s disgustingly sappy. Emile comes out as asexual and aromantic a few days after they get back, and Logan helps them hang flags in their dorm room when they arrive a week later. Remy has switched majors, from biology to culinary classes, and Remus tells them excitedly that he’s managed to start a rather popular horror comic online. (Logan reads it, and learns Remus is quite adept at art, writing, and scaring the crap out of him. He never looks at door knobs the same way again.) Virgil, meanwhile, has started wearing far less baggy clothes and more makeup – in other words, people around campus start realizing that Virgil is actually hot, and not just a relatively cute bundle of sweatshirts.
Logan kind of feels weird about it. He knows how aesthetically pleasing Virgil is, of course – they’ve spent enough time together for him to have figured that out – but… well, Logan had realized while he was away how much he’d missed Virgil, even more so than his other friends. He tells himself it is because of how close they are, and ignores the ugly anger in his chest when people flirt with Virgil, or how his heart pounds and face flushes when they curl up to watch movies these days.
As for him, well, he’s dyed his hair a dark blue, a color so dark it’s almost black. Roman marvels over it, asking how he managed to not damage his hair in the process, and Logan doesn’t feel like telling him that he had meant to do a brighter shade, but hadn’t realized how hard it would be to get proper color without bleaching his normal dark hair. He does end up telling Virgil later, though, when Remy and Patton drag them and the rest of their friends to a party.
For the record, Logan tended to avoid such events. He didn’t see the point, firstly – he’d never been a fan of crowds, especially not ones where everyone was drunk off their asses, and he generally had too much work to do to bother with parties. Secondly, he simply didn’t care enough to look nice for such a thing, or to go at all. Logan would much rather spend time with his friends if he had to be up in the middle of the night, whether haunting the 24/7 diner a few miles off campus or playing stupid games in the woods or making fun of Disney movies while throwing popcorn at the screen and shushing each other so they didn’t get noise complaints.
But then there were Patton and Remy, social creatures who liked seeing other people and didn’t mind getting wasted to do so. Roman and Janus typically followed Patton wherever he went, so they were a given, and Remus had developed a raging crush on Remy by then, so he’d probably have tagged along even if Remy hadn’t grabbed his hand and said “You’ll come, right, Ree?” with a grin.
Well, Remus was lost to them after that, and that left Emile, Logan, and Virgil alone.
Which would have been fine! Except then Virgil had got dragged in by Patton (a difficulty of being his roommate, according to Logan’s best friend, was that Patton was very, very persuasive when he wanted to be) and Virgil had begged Logan to come for “Introvert solidarity, L! Introvert solidarity!”
Then Emile had sighed, said something about being the only responsible one, and appointed themself designated driver. So Logan didn’t even have that excuse to pull himself and Virgil out of it early.
He finds himself on a couch in someone’s house, sitting besides Virgil. Janus tells him that it is owned by someone who goes to their college but lives nearby, a summer home belonging to their parents or something. Janus says ze aren’t sure who the actual host is, and ze run off to go find Roman or Patton before Logan can ask why all of them are attending a party hosted by someone they don’t know.
Virgil has obviously already had something to drink, or he’s insanely sleep-deprived, as he has started playing with Logan’s hair. Logan’s willing to bet on the former (although knowing Virgil, he can’t be sure – he has an awful sleep schedule) especially since he’s never known the other to be so touchy, even when tired.
“How’d you get it like this?” Virgil asks, running his fingers through Logan’s curls. He’s perched on top of the couch, and though he would normally be concerned that Virgil might fall, Logan is just glad he doesn’t have to bend over so his friend can examine his hair.
He tells Virgil, and can’t help but smile as he laughs, perhaps a little more than the story warrants. They sit there in peace for a few minutes, Virgil humming along with any song he recognizes and Logan scanning the room for any of their friends.
“Your hair is so pretty,” Virgil eventually says, and Logan is surprised he can hear him at all over the noise of the music and other people. He slides down from the couch to sit beside him, reaching up to poke Logan’s cheek. “You’re pretty. You know that, right? You’re real, real pretty.”
“Aw,” Logan grins, hoping the dim lights and Virgil’s addled brain will hide his red cheeks. “What is it you say? Oh, right; you think I’m warm.”
“No, dummy, I think you’re hot,” Virgil sighs. “Get it right.”
“Why, thank you.”
“‘Course. You’re my best friend, Logan Sanders.”
“Same,” he replies, dodging Virgil’s attempt to flick him as he scans the room. “Have you seen Remy or Remus around recently?”
“Oh, they’ve been making out in that closet over there,” Virgil says offhandedly, pointing, and Logan nearly chokes. “You didn’t know? They’re so obvious, Remy’s been whining about it to me for weeks. ‘Oh, Virgil, I’m doomed to be alone forever!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, Remus is so hot, and I’m going to whine about it to you for hours!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, I have a crush on a trash rat man and I won’t stop talking about it ever!’”
“Did Remy actually call Remus a ‘trash rat man’?” he snickers, turning to look at Virgil, who is wringing his hands in mock despair as he imitates Remy.
“No,” Virgil pouts. “Wish he had. Remus would love that.”
“He would,” Logan agrees, rolling his eyes fondly. “Hey, do you want to leave?”
“Why, Logan Perfect-Hair Sanders, are you asking me to ditch a party with you?” he laughs.
“That isn’t my middle name and you know it.” Logan shoots off a text to Emile, standing and turning to grab Virgil’s hand, pulling him upright. “But sure. Will you, Virgil Emo-Nightmare Foley, ditch this absurd party with me?”
“Logan, I thought you’d never ask,” Virgil smirks. “Let’s bounce!”
They get lucky – Logan hasn’t had anything to drink, and due to how large their group is, Virgil had had to drive over Patton, Janus, Roman, and himself earlier. Virgil hands him the keys to the car, and Logan drives them to the nearby McDonalds, where they order fries and milkshakes. “Let’s go somewhere high,” Virgil says when they return to the car, grinning, and Logan obliges, driving them to his favorite stargazing spot near campus, partway up a mountain in a parking lot for an old playground.
Soon, he finds himself sitting on the hood of Virgil’s car, dipping his fries in a chocolate shake as the two of them stare up at the stars and the moon, pointing out constellations. “Look,” giggles Virgil, his head on Logan’s shoulder as he traces lines between stars. “It’s the glasses one!”
“There is no ‘glasses’ constellation, Virgil,” he points out, but the path his friend is etching into the sky does look rather like a pair of glasses.
“Well, there is now,” replies the other. “It’s your constellation! You deserve one, y’know, ‘cause you’re pretty, and smart, and nice, and funny, and you’re just the best, Lo, okay?”
“How much did you have to drink, exactly?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow, and his friend punches him in the arm, lightly. “Ow!”
“I’m telling the truth,” Virgil rolls his eyes, pulling the blankets they’d retrieved from the trunk closer around the two of them. “You deserve a constellation. You deserve the universe.”
“Well, now we have to find you a constellation, too,” he muses, ignoring the heat in his cheeks (he seems to be blushing quite a lot lately, talking to Virgil) as he searches the sky. It takes a few minutes, and Virgil is half-asleep on his shoulder by the time he makes his choice, but finally Logan says “I found it.”
“Well, lemme see,” Virgil mumbles, opening his eyes.
He traces lines between a series of stars. “It’s a cloud,” he explains, “and a lightning bolt. Because you’re a thunderstorm, V.”
“Isn’t that a bad thing?” He’s biting his lip, suddenly subdued, and Logan feels a surge of guilt, because no one should ever make Virgil look like that, anxious and hurt and scared all at once.
“No,” he answers, fiercely enough that Virgil jumps slightly. “You’re wild, and chaotic, and occasionally a bit destructive, but you also make people feel alive. You bring rain to help things live, you bring the sound of a storm and the beauty of lightning, you simultaneously wake me up and help me sleep. You are beautiful, and inspiring, and so amazingly you, and the best friend I could ever ask for.”
“...And I thought I was the English major,” Virgil says quietly, and his face is bright red. “You have no right to be better at words than me, Sanders.”
“Well, Foley, I’m the astrophysics major, and you’re the one who started making constellations, so turnabout’s fair play,” Logan replies, and Virgil lets out a laugh at that.
Later, when the fries and milkshakes are both gone, they get back into the car and drive back to their dorms. For Logan’s birthday that year, a month or so later, Virgil presents him with a painting of the glasses constellation. He’d commissioned Remus, he explains, staring at his feet, and Logan tells him he loves it. For Virgil’s birthday, he gets a similar art piece from Roman, of the stars making a storm, and Virgil pulls him into a tight hug.
For now, though, the two of them simply sit and gaze into space.
–
Logan goes on a few dates with someone he meets at the coffee shop, named Andy. They become boyfriends. Virgil teases him about it whenever he brings it up, and eventually he stops talking about his partner to his best friend. The two of them start to pull apart, their friendship strained.
When Logan and Andy separate, Virgil is dating a girl he’s only met a few times, who shares Virgil’s English classes and wears colorful barrettes to hold back her curls.
He hadn’t even known Virgil liked her.
–
College passes by quickly. They graduate, and Logan tumbles into a job at a rather prestigious observatory. He lives in a small apartment in the city nearby, buys coffee from the Starbucks across the street every morning, settles into a routine.
Gradually, they all start to fall out of touch. It sucks, but things have been off between Virgil and him ever since Logan had dated Andy Michaels, and at the moment Logan sees his ex-boyfriend more than his ex-best friend. Their relationship had ended amicably, but still – he misses Virgil Foley, more than he’d ever like to admit.
A year or so later, Logan receives the invitation to Remy and Remus’ wedding.
It is in the fall, and Logan isn’t surprised in the least that they plan to have it in a forest, if only because he knows that the odds of Remus wanting the guests to jump into leap piles with him are absurdly high. At least they’re at an actual wedding site, so they can be inside if needed – Logan half expected, when he found out they’d gotten engaged, for them to drag a bunch of guests to a Starbucks for the event.
What does surprise Logan is the fact that Remus has apparently sent it early, because Logan is going to be one of the wedding party attendants.
He calls Remus and Remy that night, certain they’ve mixed up things, but Remy simply laughs. “Logan, you’re still one of our best friends,” he says. “Come on, please?”
“Besides,” Remus adds, “Virge will be one too, and Patton and Roman and Jan and Emile! You can’t break up the team!”
He ends up agreeing, and no matter how much Remy teases him about it later, it was not just to see Virgil again.
The wedding rolls around. Logan has managed to avoid speaking to Virgil for more than a friendly greeting and a bit of small talk through all the preparations the two of them had had to attend, but the they both arrive early on the day of, and Logan doesn’t know anybody else, and, well, he does miss Virgil.
“Hey,” he says. Virgil is nearly as tall as him in the heels he’s wearing (Logan had managed to opt out of them, convincing Remus to let him wear flats with his dress), and his green dress offsets his stormy eyes perfectly. Logan doesn’t think he looks nearly as good in the color, but he’d decided not to argue with Remy’s puppy-dog eyes. Besides, he much prefers the dress to the suits Emile and Patton had opted for.
“Hi, Logan,” Virgil replies. The tension in the air is palpable, and Logan hates it. “How’ve you been lately?”
“I’m good,” he answers.
“Oh, good,” nods Virgil. He’s gnawing at his lip again, and Logan can see the split in it even through the lipstick. “Me too.”
“I miss you,” Logan says suddenly, because he does. “You were my best friend, and I hate not being close, because you are one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“...I miss you too.” He smooths his dress, looking out the window at the trees, and then laughs. “I’m surprised they didn’t have their wedding in a Starbucks, honestly.”
Logan can’t help but chuckle at that, especially when he spots Remy breezing past them, a coffee cup in hand and makeup only half-done, frantically trying to catch his little brothers and sister, whom he and Remus had appointed flower children. “I thought the same thing,” he admits.
It’s easy for the two of them to talk, after that, sharing jokes and telling stories and talking about their new lives. Logan feels oddly happy when he learns Virgil is single, and when he mentions how he’s looking for a roommate and Virgil remarks that he is too, it feels as natural as breathing to ask where he’s currently living. Finding out they live in the same city makes Logan feel strangely elated.
“Help!” Remus exclaims, skidding to a stop in front of them, collapsing into Virgil’s arms and only barely being caught. “I’ve lost my husband-to-be!”
“Alright, please calm down,” Logan says, exchanging exasperated looks with Virgil, who pulls Remus back to his feet. “Have you actually lost Remy, or are you just being overly dramatic?”
“He has been stolen from me,” Remus whines. “We were kissing, and then he was dragged away by my evil brother!”
“By any chance, was he dragged away to prepare for your wedding? The event we’re attending, so you two can get married? The one that most guests are expected to arrive for in fifteen minutes?” Virgil crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed.
Remus’ eyes widen. “Fifteen minutes?” he asks, checking Logan’s watch, and groans. “Oh, drumsticks. Drumsticks torn right off a chicken. Bloody chicken legs everywhere.”
He darts off, and Logan and Virgil sigh simultaneously.
“We should go help, shouldn’t we?” Virgil asks, and Logan nods reluctantly. “Well, it was great to talk to you.”
“It was pleasant to speak with you, as well,” he agrees.
As he turns to go find Patton, Virgil grabs his arm. “Hey, L, save me a dance, okay?”
They do indeed dance together that night, after they watch Remy and Remus get married among the colorful leaves, and talk, and laugh, and by the end of the wedding they are good friends again.
Virgil and Logan move in together by the end of November.
–
They become surprisingly domestic, the two of them, moving into their large apartment that is close to both Logan’s job at the observatory and Virgil’s work at a publishing company. He’s not surprised Virgil has become an editor (he was always the best at it, when they exchanged essays to review), but he is rather impressed when he notes some of the books in Virgil’s room have his full name on the cover. “I write poetry, mostly,” he explains when Logan asks. “It’s… I used to use it like therapy, I guess, and I got some of it published. I’m not famous or anything.”
“That’s amazing,” Logan says sincerely.
The poetry becomes important, later, but then, it is simply something for Logan to admire, another flash of beautiful lightning in Virgil’s storm.
Saturdays become movie nights, and they order junk food and make popcorn and watch documentaries or horror movies or cartoons together. Occasionally, some of their friends will join them, and every so often, all eight of them cram into Logan and Virgil’s living room. Despite his love for the others, however, Logan’s favorite nights are usually the ones when the two of them are alone, when they curl up together on the couch and make fun of trashy films or contribute their own knowledge to documentaries or sing along quietly to Disney. It is peaceful and lovely and utterly perfect.
Logan doesn’t mean to fall in love with Virgil. It sneaks up on him, mornings of coffee for him and tea for Virgil and memes shared over breakfast, afternoons texting each other with reminders to get groceries and news from the office, nights of cooking together and dancing to the radio.
One day, when both of them have work off, Virgil pulls him out of bed, waits impatiently while Logan gets dressed, and drags him outside into a storm. They walk through the park together, enjoying the rain on their skin, both of them jumping into puddles and belting the title number of Singing in the Rain and getting utterly soaked.
They return home for cocoa, each taking a warm shower and then sitting together on the couch to watch old movies with small white krakens bobbing in their cups. It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form.
His best friend.
Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.
(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.)
Logan tries to get over his crush (and there’s no other word for it, as juvenile as it sounds). He really does. But it’s so hard, now that he knows it exists, especially when he has to see Virgil every single day. And he can’t just cut himself off, or leave their apartment, because that might ruin their friendship, and that’s the whole reason he’s trying to escape his feelings, because he loves being Virgil’s friend more than anything.
So he exists in this inbetween state, thrashing in the eyewall of a storm, so close to safety and danger simultaneously, trapped in chaos and uncertainty.
Logan isn’t quite sure whether he really wants to return to the eye, blissful quiet and the peace of oblivion, or if he can at all. But he thinks entering the storm itself, the danger of telling Virgil how he feels, the potential for a life with him, is equally impossible.
Eventually he decides that it is best to just ignore his rebellious feelings. It works, sort of – Virgil doesn’t seem to notice anything different, and Logan gets to keep his best friend. Still, every moment together is tinged with a sort of bittersweet sadness, the dancing in the kitchen and cuddling on the couch and meals together a harsh reminder that they are just friends.
He’s not sure exactly how his other friends figure it out, but they do, judging from how Remy and Janus tell him exasperatedly that he really ought to say something to Virgil, how Patton and Roman tell him how cute they would be together, how Remus does his best to shove Logan towards Virgil at any opportunity, how Emile tells him pointedly that repressing his feelings isn’t exactly healthy. Logan does decide that he’ll confess… eventually.
The problem with eventually, however, is how ambiguous it is. The others have realized as much, evidently, but they don’t force Logan to say something, or tell Virgil themselves, and he appreciates that.
It is a Saturday when eventually finally comes, a peaceful movie night interrupted by a phone call with Roman’s name flashing on the screen. He holds up a finger over his lips as he accepts the call, grimacing apologetically to Virgil as he steps into his own room. “What do you want?” he asks exasperatedly when he picks it up, and winces as the other line fills with noise.
“Logan, have you read Virgil’s latest book?” Roman practically screams, and in the background Logan can hear Patton squealing with excitement as Janus shushes them both.
He frowns, closing the door to his bedroom. “I wasn’t aware he’d been working on one.” Normally, Logan knows whenever Virgil is working on another collection of his poetry – he’s often the first person Virgil hands it to for editing.
“Get on your computer this instant, Pocket Protector,” says Roman, and Logan can hear his grin.
A quick search confirms it; a new book of poetry, just released by Virgil Foley. The revelation is almost painful (does Virgil not trust him anymore? Not like him?) until Janus’ voice comes over the line, hir voice sarcastic and concerned altogether.
“Way to go, love, he’s definitely not overthinking this,” ze sigh. “Logan, listen to me. I need you to go look at some of the reviews for the book, okay? Actually, no, if you can find a sample online, go read that.”
He’s operating in a haze, a robot in human flesh, and what do robots do but obey orders?
Logan barely understands what he’s reading at first, lines of poetry in the sample flashing past him. He checks the reviews, words of praise and admiration flowing through his mind, and it takes a second before he understands any of it.
Clicking back to the online sample, he starts to recognize the story being told. It is a tale of late nights and hot drinks in the morning, of pining and fear of destroying a friendship older than love.
It is Logan’s story, told through another’s words, a voice speaking of a scholar of the stars, of glasses and storms, of hugs and hand-holding and a cute barista, a boy in psych class, a friendship repaired at another’s wedding, of admiration and hope and love. A love for someone seen not as a storm, but as stars, as the universe in human flesh.
Virgil is in love.
Virgil is in love with Logan.
“I’ll call you back,” he hears himself say, and drops his phone on his bed in his haste to get back to the living room.
“Logan?” Virgil’s voice pierce the haze of his thoughts, his eyes
(a storm, wild beauty)
shining with concern, and he sits up from where he’s lying on the couch. “You okay? What happened?”
There are many things he wants to say, questions and explanations and promises, but in the end, all he says is “Can I kiss you?”
“What?” He doesn’t expect Virgil to look quite so flustered, but then again, Logan did just storm into the room, looking desperate and probably a tad deranged, and ask to kiss his best friend.
“Roman told me about the new book,” Logan says first, and Virgil’s eyes widen even further, and he can sense the incoming apology, but he isn’t done, not yet. He begins to crack his knuckles, a habit he’d thought he’d finally lost, full to the brim with nervous energy. “I’ve read some of it, and as far as I can tell, you are romantically attracted to me. Which is good, because I also harbor such feelings for you, and have for about a year now. So. Can I kiss you?”
“Isn’t it ‘May I kiss you’?” Virgil grins, playing off his feelings with humor, as always. Logan opens his mouth to apologize as his world comes crashing down, because oh, he’s messed up, oh no, but then his best friend’s expression softens, and he whispers “Of course, Logan Sanders.”
“Thank you, Virgil Foley,” he says, and abandons the eyewall for the storm.
They don’t watch any more movies that night. The two of them kiss, and talk, and kiss some more, and Virgil grabs his author’s edition of the new book from his room, and they read it together on the couch.
The next morning, they sit with their coffee and tea and talk some more, about labels and boundaries and dreams. Their friends come over for movies the next Saturday, and Virgil and Logan hold hands as they tell them they are dating.
(Roman choking on the popcorn in his excitement almost makes up for the money Logan spots being exchanged between Emile, Remus, and Patton.)
Eventually, Virgil’s latest book will gain fame, and they will end up with quite a bit of money between the two of them, especially after Logan gets a promotion. Eventually, they will move to a larger house, one a bit outside the city, one where they will have two cats and a dog and a son named Thomas. Eventually, they will get married in the spring, and when it starts to rain as they say their vows, the two of them just laugh.
But that is eventually. In the now, Logan Sanders is in love. In the now, Virgil Foley is in love.
They are glasses and hoodies, poetry written and spoken, dancing in the kitchen and cuddles on the couch.
They are thunderstorms, and they are stars.
#analogical#romantic analogical#virgil sanders#ts virgil#logan sanders#ts logan#royaliceit#romantic royaliceit#intrusleep#rem^2#romantic intrusleep#romantic rem^2#drlamper#platonic drlamper#nonbinary emile picani#nonbinary janus sanders#aroace emile picani#mild gore warning#roommates#emile picani#patton sanders#remy sanders#remus sanders#janus sanders#roman sanders#thomas sanders#cinder writes
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Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 61
So this is officially the first chapter of my season 4. There will be a number of made up akumas in this season including some of the designs I've already released and there will also be the rest of the season 3 akumas I haven't used. I also hope you guys are ready for some lore because I will be diving more into that side of the story throughout this season. I'm very excited for what I have planned for this "season". Anyway, here's Neon Queen who is based on one of my real life friends :D The next chapter will be Kwami Buster! So yay for Mouse!Luka XD Hope you guys enjoy this chapter :D
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Chapter Sixty-One: Neon Queen
~Roth Studios~
"Like why do I have to do a competition again?" XY asked as he sat looking at his agent with a blank expression before he picked up his soda and drank some. He put it back down and yanked his hand from the nail technician who was working on them. He frowned as he glanced at them. His agent sighed and ran his hand through his hair.
"It's for good publicity," He explained as XY berated the nail technician. "Record sales has gone down since your father's arrest,"
"And that's my problem how?"
"We need the world to see you as a good person, far from your father's actions," He stated, making XY give him a look. "Doing a contest for someone to win a VIP experience and a chance to meet you will help with that,"
"Fine," He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just make sure whoever wins it isn't boring,"
"Well, the winner will be random," His agent stated, making him roll his eyes.
"Whatever," He stated, waving his free hand in a dismissive manner. His agent shook his head before walking out of the room. He took out his mobile and dialled a number.
"Alec, it's Steve," He stated when the other person answered it. "I need your help in creating a contest to win a VIP experience with XY,"
~A few days later at the Arc De Triomphe~
Anatis sighed as he flicked through his notes about Miracle Queen and the events of the New York attack. It had been about three weeks since Miracle Queen had stuck and going to New York had been a welcome distraction. However, Hawkmoth tried to start WW3 and had overtaken the heroes again. He had managed to keep his cool throughout the whole thing since he had managed to get away before he could be affected but he needed to come up with back up plans in case he ever got compromised again or if any other hero did. Since Miracle Queen, he had started to look into ways to protect himself and Lady Noir from mind controlled again but the events of New York had driven him farther. Prevention was the best way to help the world but he would have to have a back up plan in case he wasn't able to do that, which is why he had added a new code to their original one. Code Red. It was a code he never wanted to add but since he had been mind controlled happened more then once, he had to take precautions for the future. Unlike the other codes that simply told them the situation, Code Red also came with something else. A password to a file on Master Fu's computer. Since heroes day, he had been making videos on how to take down himself and his team should they ever be compromised or turn rogue. He didn't think he would need them but since miracle queen and the new york incident, he had changed his mind. He still hope no one would need to use them but just in case, he or his team got compromised, someone would need access to them. The most obvious person would be Master Fu or Lady Noir but should they be compromised too, someone else would have to take over which is why he intended to have the message sent to Koro. While he didn't trust her, she was the obvious choice if everyone was compromised. Especially since she might be able to break them out of been mind controlled again. Well... Bunnyx might be a good person to send this too as well. If he can work out how to send her messages. He sighed to himself before taking out his yoyo and set it up to film himself, pressing record before he looked into the camera.
"I'm not sure how to start this video so I'll just get into it," He stated, running his fingers through his hair before he glanced at the video. "If you are watching then a Code Red has occurred and I have been compromise by an akuma.... well, then I need you to fight in my place instead. If you happen to hold a miraculous that can break mind control on a person then I urge you to use that first as what I will say in this video is intended as a last resort... if you can break me out of control then click on the second attachment of this message and put in the passcode Anatis must fall. Capital A, no spaces. This will allow you access to a video I made after heroes day. It details how to neutralize me but even though I came up with it, I can't promise it will work. Your best chance is to break the akuma's control on me, steal my charm when I summon it or even use a recording of my voice to activate it. Once that happens, you can use it to defeat the akuma and cause the cure. The cure can be activated by anyone as long as the words Miraculous Ladybugs is called out. I hope it never comes to anyone seeing this message but I guess it's best to be prepared..."
He sighed before leaning over to switch off the video.
"Bug out for now..." He stated, switching it off before grabbing his yoyo and saving it. He typed away on it, using a command to send it to Lady Noir, Master Fu's computer or Koro if he was compromised but hopefully it would never come to that. With that done, he closed his yoyo and stood up before diving off the building and swinging into the city. A few people cheered as he swung by, making him feel better but he still had a lot of things on his mind. Master Fu hadn't told him anything else about the history of the guardians and since Koro turned up, he seemed more closed off then normal. He had asked him about it but he would just shut him down as if it didn't matter. He still had no idea who Su Han was or why Koro left the guardians. Master Fu didn't have the answers but it's not like he could ask Koro. For one, he didn't know her civilian identity, two he hadn't actually seen her since Miracle Queen and finally, he didn't trust her. Part of him felt like he could but he questioned it as she had been in Paris since Hawkmoth had turned up and had done nothing to stop him or to try and help him. There was the whole thing with her and Toutai. He still didn't have answers on that yet either. He hadn't sensed or met with Toutai since that time and Feng wasn't telling him much about it either. Just kept saying it wasn't the right time or some other riddle that was frustrating him. He frowned as he landed on the Liberty's roof before slipping into his room and detransforming. He caught Tikki and put her into her bed before grabbing her a cookie. She smiled tiredly and took it as Luka sat at his computer and opened chrome. He waited for it to load before he began to type.
How to protect myself from mind control
Results:
how to recognize gaslighting
how to stop someone from manipulating you
He sighed before deleting and typing again.
How to protect myself from been hypnotized
Results:
Learn how to be a magician- video
Ten steps to regain yourself
He sighed again before typing in a final search.
How do I protect myself from psychic attacks
Results:
Stones and Talismans of Witchcraft
Spells to block Psychics
Luka hovered the mouse over the first result before clicking on it. He began to read through it as he took in the information. Apparently, different crystals and stones had different properties that can used to help a wearer in certain ways. Like Amber is excellent for protecting one against psychic attacks but also it helps the user connect with it's aura. Given that he seems to have some sort of connection to an ancient mage, he felt like Amber could help him reconnect with the spiritual side and Feng more than he already has. He sighed and looked over at Tikki.
"Tikki?"
"Hmm?" She asked, looking up from her cookie.
"What's your thoughts on crystals and stones?" He asked, making her blink. "Can crystals have a magical abilities?"
"Of course they can," She smiled, making him blink. "Especially if they've been blessed by a kwami or a spirit. Why?"
"I'm thinking getting an amber tailment to help protect me from mind control..." He admitted, feeling a little silly now that he said it out loud. "That's stupid right?"
"No, I don't think it is," She stated, making him look at him. "Magic is real, Luka. It's just not everyone practices it anymore. Besides, I can bless the taisment for you,"
"You'd do that?" He asked as she flew over and gently hugged his cheek.
"Of course," She smiled, making him smile back. "You're my friend, Luka and I don't want to see you hurt,"
"Thank you, Tikki," He smiled, gently holding her in his hands before he yawned. "I think I should go to bed for now... maybe I won't have a nightmare tonight,"
Tikki frowned a little at his comment. Luka had been having nightmares a lot recently but she couldn't blame him. He had suffered a lot but that's what didn't concern her. At first, they had been nightmares about his stepfather coming back and then Miracle Queen taking over him again or him failing to stop Hawkmoth from destroying the world but in the last week, they had changed. He had started to dream of a sea monster and Paris been flooded. At first, she thought he was having flashbacks of syren but it really didn't make much sense that he would. If that had been the case, why now? Not just that but the sea monster he described sounded nothing like syren but more like the leviathan or Cthulhu. She wasn't sure what he was dreaming off or why but she had to admit, it was scaring her as much as it was scaring Luka. She had hoped it was just a bad dream but seeing Luka jolt awake and scream from his dreams reminded her of when Feng use to do the same. It made her wonder more about his connection to the mage and if something she thought was impossible had actually occurred. She wanted to investigate it further but at the same time, she was afraid of what it might mean if it turned out that way.
"Tikki?" Luka asked, making her look at him. He had a look of concern on his face. "Are you ok?"
"Don't worry about me," She smiled, floating up and gently kissing his nose. "Go to bed,"
"Alright," He nodded before shutting down his computer and changing into his PJs. Once that was done, he climbed into bed and turned off his light, curling up as Tikki floated over and curled up next to him.
~A Couple of Days Later~
Luka took a deep breath as he walked over to the door of a crystal store called Brésilophile. He pushed it open and walked inside, looking around. The woman at the counter looked up and with a tired sigh, addressed him.
"If you're looking for an akuma charms, I don't have any," She stated, making him frown a little.
"Actually... I'm kind of new to... this and I'm looking for something to protect against mind... mental attacks..." He stated nervously as he walked over. She rose an eyebrow. "Um... this might sound crazy but I'm an empath and-"
"Oh, so you need something to cleanse and protect from negative influences and psychic attacks," She stated, smiling. He bit his lip and nodded. "Well, I highly recommend Amber. It helps balancing emotions, attracting good luck, eliminating fears and clearing the mind. It also dissolves any negative energy and helps to develop patience and wisdom. It is an excellent choice for an empath,"
"Do you have any bracelets or necklaces made from it?" He asked, making her nod before she grabbed a couple of them. There were different types of bracelets and necklaces but he found himself drawn to a simple pendant that was rough and jagged looking. "Can I buy that one?"
"Sure," She smiled, putting it through. "You know if you're interested in learning more about the craft, you should go to the Arc en Ciel,"
"The Arc en Ciel?" He asked, taking out cash to pay for his necklace. "What is that and where is it?"
"It's an Esoteric Bookstore that has a lot of different books on spiritualism, modern day wicca and the occult," She explained before telling him where he could find it before giving him the small paper bag she had put the necklace in. He took and thanked her before leaving the store. Once outside, he took it out and looked at it. The gem shined a little and he could always feel an energy coming from it. He put it on before walking back to the boat. Tikki poked her head out.
"Are you gonna go to that bookstore?"
"I don't know," He admitted, looking down. "This is kind of new and I'm not really into witchcraft..."
"It might help you understand your gift," She stated, making him think but part of him felt afraid. Maybe it was because of how Issac reacted and called him a witch but the idea of learning about the occult scared him.. "Maybe it might even help you work out your connection to Master Feng,"
"I'll give it a think," He stated as he walked down the stairs to the Seine. However, his phone buzzed. He took it out and frowned as he saw it was an akuma alert over at the TVi studios. He ran over to the nearly bridge and hid under it. "Well, it looks work calls. Tikki! Spots on!"
He transformed into Anatis and threw his yoyo, collecting it to a flagpole. He yanked it, pulling himself up onto the building before running across the rooftops and landing on the building opposite the TVi studios. He narrowed his eyes as he saw XY run out of the building, shoving people out of the way. A bright green blast caused the doors to blow off, allowing the akuma to step out. She was one of Hawkmoth's more creative ones by the looks of her. She wore a black one piece that had a bright yellow collar on. Her belt was half neon green and half neon yellow with a neon pink belt buckle. It also had neon colored material straps on it. She wore neon yellow stocks with neon pink fishnet pattern on them. On her right leg, she had a garter that was neon green, pink and yellow. Her boots were black with yellow heels and she had one strippy glove while her other one was ripped in places. She wore a black crown on her head that stood out against her hair, which was neon pink that faded into neon green. Her mask was white with paint splatter on it and it only covered one of her eyes, which had bright green iries and black scleas. She also wore neon green lipstick and her skin was a light gray. In her right hand was a neon colored staff that had a sort of eye on top of it. Her eyes were fixed on XY as he struggled to get away from her. Anatis narrowed his eyes before throwing his yoyo and swinging down, grabbing XY and pulling him out of harm's way. He landed on a different building as a butterfly mask appeared around the akuma's eyes. XY took a breathe as she looked up at Anatis.
"Anatis! Give me XY!" She declared, making him frown. "You're supposed to be a hero and I only want to make him understand that his attitude towards his fans isn't cool!"
Anatis ignored her and turned to him.
"What did you do?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Me?! That crazed fan is after me and you're blaming me for it!" He gasped but Anatis didn't say a thing and kept glaring. "Ugh! Fine! We had a contest for one of my fans to win a VIP experience with me but this kind of dull girl won it and then tried to give me some weird bracelet to 'thank' me for my music, which was kind of lame. I mean why would I want something cheap like that! Anyway, I told her thanks but no thanks,"
"Was it recording?" Anatis asked, making XY nod. He took out his yoyo and watched the video, showing that XY said a lot more then thanks but no thanks. He actually insulted the winner and called her boring and lame live on air. He continued to rip into her, causing her to run off crying. Anatis frowned and closed the yoyo a bit too calmly before he turned to XY. "So you failed to mention you insulted her and made her cry live on TV!"
"Not my fault she'- Ah! What are you doing?!" He gasped as Anatis literally dragged him to the edge and held him over it with his jacket. "You can't!"
"You treat people like crap!" He growled, making XY gulp. "You're a thief and you blame everyone but yourself for your problems! I should hand you over to the akuma because kwami knows you deserve it after the way you treated her but fortunately for you, I'm a hero! However, I suggest you change your ways, Xavier or I'll treat you the same way I treat the villains and Hawkmoth. Got it?!"
"What?! Why?" He gasped, surprised. "I'm not a villain!"
"If you're not part of the solution then you're part of the problem!" Anatis declared, making XY gasp. "You go around treating people badly in a city where a supervillain feeds of negativity and you don't see a problem with that! You still treat people awfully despite knowing that it makes them vulnerable to akumas so as far as I'm concerned, that makes you just as bad as Hawkmoth!"
He pulled him back and pushed him onto the floor, leaving XY shaking a bit.
"Stay out of sight," He ordered in a harsh manner before swinging away. He landed on another building and let out a sigh before dialling Lady Noir's number, causing her to pick up straight away. "Hey, Kitten we have an akuma at the TVi studios,"
"I'm on my way, Annie," She declared before he hung up. He made his way back to the studios and saw the akuma firing at people with her staff, turning them into her minions before she ordered them to find the heroes and XY. Lady Noir landed next to him as he watched. "What do you think?"
"She's a recruiter type and I think her akuma is in her staff," He stated, making her nod. "We need to make sure-"
"Watch out!" Lady Noir gasped, pulling Anatis back and using her baton to block the akuma's attack. However, her minions were beginning to climb up the walls and trying to burst through the doors, surrounding them. Neon Queen jumped up onto the building and tried to fire at them. Anatis threw his yoyo before grabbing Lady Noir around the waist and swinging off with her. She held onto him as they jumped onto a different building before Anatis threw his yoyo in the air.
"Lucky charm!" He declared, catching the small candle. He rose an eyebrow before it clicked. "I need to go get help,"
"Alright," Lady Noir nodded. "Want me to come with or should I keep an eye on the akuma?"
"Keep an eye on the akuma and engage if she begins to attack civilians again," He ordered, making her nod. "I shouldn't be long,"
He gave her sault before diving off and making his way through the city towards Fu's. He frowned and stopped behind a chimney as he had a sudden strange feeling before he looked behind him. Koro jumped down from a building and looked around, making him sigh. Of course, she's been following him. He stepped out, making her frown as she looked at him.
"Why are you following me?" He asked, making her frown a little.
"To ensure you're not compromised again," She stated, making him frown.
"Well, as you can see, I'm not," He stated, gesturing to himself. "Now go home or do whatever it is you do. I don't need a babysitter,"
"You don't trust me," She stated, making him roll his eyes.
"Clearly," He stated, crossing his arms. She gave him an annoyed look. "You just turn up out of nowhere, act like you own the place and stalk me then you expect me to trust you! Well, I don't! Trust and Respect need to be earnt and other then helping us one time because you had no other choice doesn't earn you my respect or trust! Especially since you've been here since the beginning!"
"None of the western box can purify akumas and it wasn't my place to interfere,"
"You could have reached out to Master Fu and let him know that he isn't alone!" He shouted before pinching his nose as his earrings beeped. "I haven't got time for this right now. I have an akuma defeat so just go back to the shadows and leave me alone!"
"Anatis!" She gasped as he threw his yoyo and swung away, making her sigh before she turned back around and jumped away.
~At Master Fu's~
Luka sighed as Master Fu took out the miracle box and placed it in front of him, opening it up. The draws popped out, causing him to focus on it.
"Luka Couffaine, pick an ally you can trust to fight alongside you in this mission," Master Fu stated, causing Luka to take a breathe. "Choose wisely. Such powers are meant to serve the greater good,"
Luka nodded as he looked at them.
"Once the mission is over, you will retrieve the miraculous from them," He stated as Luka reached for the fox and picked it up. "Calling on Culpeo again?"
"She's perfect for this mission," He stated, making Master Fu nod before he got up and pocketed it. He walked over to the window but Master Fu cleared his voice. "Yeah?"
"Are you ok?" Master Fu asked, making Luka frown before he sighed.
"I ran into Koro before I came here," He stated, frowning. "Can we talk about it after the akuma's been dealt with?"
"Of course," Master Fu nodded, causing Luka to nod back before leaving the apartment. He transformed into Anatis and made his way to the Liberty, finding Juleka on the deck alone. He landed in front of her, making her look up at him.
"I need your help with the akuma," He stated, holding out the miraculous. She nodded and took it, putting it on. Trixx manifested and zoomed around her, making her smile.
"Trixx, let's pounce," She declared, transforming into Culpeo before jumping towards where Lady Noir and Neon Queen were fighting. They landed on the rooftop above them before Anatis threw his yoyo in the air and called for his lucky charm, catching it from the air. He rose an eyebrow as it was a length of rope before he glanced around in his luck vision. Culpeo lit up, followed by the rope, a lampost nearby, followed by a tree next to the lamp post and Neon Queen's staff before it finally highlighted Lady Noir. He turned to Culpeo as Lady Noir dodged Neon Queen's attack. "I need you to create an illusion of XY to lure her close to my trap,"
"Alright," Culpeo replied, following him as he jumped down to the lamp post and the tree. He tied the rope into a lasso before wrapping it around the lamp post before using the tree to pull it back, making it into a spring trap that would be triggered the moment Neon Queen stepped on it. He threw his yoyo up to a building and pulled himself onto it. Culpeo followed him before taking her flute out and bringing it to her mouth. She played a few notes on it, creating the ball of light on the end before throwing it towards the street. "Mirage!"
An illusion of XY rushed out and gasped in fear as Neon Queen saw him, taking her attention of Lady Noir.
"Finally!" She gasped, pointing her wand at him and fired at him but he dodged and ran off, causing her to follow. She ran past the building they were on and straight into Anatis' trap. The rope wrapped around her ankle and pulled her up, causing her to drop her wand. Anatis jumped down and grabbed it, throwing it towards Lady Noir.
"Cataclysm!" She declared as she caught it, causing it to turn to rust. She dropped it and crushed it with her foot, causing the akuma to escape as Anatis and Culpeo lowered Neon Queen to the floor. Seeing the akuma, Anatis took out his yoyo and caught it before releasing the purified verison back into the world as Culpeo continued to untie Neon Queen. With her untied, she handed Anatis the rope, allowing him to throw it up in the air and release the cure. It flowed through Paris, fixing all the damage before disappearing. Neon Queen turned back into her normal form, making her blink and look around as Lady Noir came over. Anatis knelt down in front of her and helped her to her feet.
"Anatis? Lady Noir? Culpeo?" She asked, looking confused. "What happened?"
"You were akumatized," He stated, making her blink and look down. "But everything is ok now..."
"I'm sorry," She gasped, looking at him. "I didn't meant to. It's just I was meant to meet XY but he was so mean to me. He said I looked dumb and thumpy and didn't even seem interested in meeting anyone. I wanted to give him this but..."
She looked at the bracelet on her wrist.
"He said it looked cheap..." She mumbled, looking down. "I made it myself but it wasn't good enough..."
"You shouldn't listen to him," Anatis stated, making her look at him. "It is good enough. I think it's awesome that you made it,"
"Thank you," She smiled shyly before taking off the bracelet and handing it to Anatis, making him look at her in surprise. "I think you should have it,"
"Thank you," He replied back, taking it and putting it on his wrist before his ears beeped. "I have to go now,"
She nodded as he stood up and turned to the girls as their miraculous beeped. Lady Noir spun her baton and leaned on it.
"See you for Patrol?" She asked, making him smile and nod. She grinned back before turning to Culpeo. "Good job today, Kit. It was nice to see you again,"
"It was nothing really..." Culpeo mumbled but she had a smile on her face. Lady Noir gave her a kind smile before saulting them both and jumping away. Anatis smiled and turned to Culpeo.
"Time to go," He stated before the two of them jumped off and headed to an alleyway near the Seine. They landed in it, allowing Culpeo to transform back into Juleka. She gave a highfive to Trixx and said goodbye before taking off the necklace and handing it back to Anatis. "Thank you for your help today, Juleka,"
"It was no problem," She smiled shyly before running out of the alleyway. She stopped and waved to him before walking off. He threw his yoyo up and swung over to Master Fu's. He jumped down into the alleyway next to it and detransformed, catching Tikki as he did. He took out a cookie for her and placed her in his pocket as she began to eat it. He walked over to the door and put in the code before heading up to Master Fu's shop. He knocked on the door and entered, causing Master Fu to look up at him before he got up and took out the miracle box. Luka handed him back the fox miraculous before he sat down and let out a sigh.
"Want to tell me what's on your mind?" Master Fu asked as he put back the box. Luka let out a sigh again.
"Koro was following me in case I got controlled again," He stated, making Master Fu frown. "I get that she helped us but she literally just turned up when it suited her and now expects me to work with her?! I get that she might have been under Princess Justice's control but if she wasn't, where was her help then? Or before that? How can she expect me to trust her when she didn't try to help before miracle queen?! She could have tracked you down and let you know that you're not alone! Or she could have build a team to help take down Hawkmoth?! She could have done anything but she did nothing! And now she expects me to trust her!? How do I even know I can?! Does she realize that trust is earned not given?!"
Master Fu remained silent as Luka let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I'm sorry... it's just..." He sighed, glancing down. "Part of me wants to trust her and I feel bad that I don't but how can I when she didn't even try to help us before Miracle Queen?... Am I been selfish?"
"I don't think so, Luka," Master Fu stated as Luka sat down. "But maybe part of the reason why you feel like you can't trust her is due to recent events? After all, you've been through some very traumatic things recently,"
"Mob Boss has nothing to do with this..." He stated, making Master Fu frown. "I'm annoyed that she just turned up and expects me to trust her instantly... It doesn't help that I can't sleep either!"
"The nightmares again?" Master Fu asked, making Luka sigh.
"They're different," He admitted, making Fu frown. "I keep dreaming of a flooded paris,"
"Syren flashbacks?" Fu asked but the haunted look on Luka's face concerned him.
"No... I don't think it's of the past," He replied, making his mentor frown even more. "I think it's of the future..."
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Next Chapter: Coming soon
#angry luka#luka couffaine#ladybug luka couffaine | anatis#anatis au#pissed off anatis#angry anatis#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#ny special#marinette dupain cheng#cat marinette dupain cheng | lady noir#hua mulan#master fu#original character#xy#xavier yves roth#neon queen#rave#mind control#concerned luka#nightmares#future visions#culpeo#juleka couffaine#fox juleka couffaine | culpeo#lukanette#lukanette endgame#pro lukamari
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Play a spellcaster who exclusively uses mending to fix their nail polish
One of my favorite spell exploits i may have mentioned before:In Call Of Cthulhu there’s a spell, “appear human” that, well, lets you appear human. it can be cast by any being that’s roughly human size and shape- including, presumably, humans.Now, you only get one human appearance. For a human spellcaster, presumably yourself. But you can pump power into the spell to boost your appearance stat.As such, you can delve into the dark secrets of lovecraftian horror and trade away your soul and sanity to get the power to shapeshift into yourself but with better makeup.And i feel this cultist and your spellcaster should be friends.
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Visions Of Bodies Being Burned
clipping.
clipping.'s second entry in their horror anthology collection follows up 2019's There Existed an Addiction to Blood by conjuring up an atmosphere that rarely allows a moment to catch your breath. Here the Los Angeles-based trio takes Apple Music through the record's many horrors.
Say the Name
William Hutson: “I had always wanted to make a track using that phrase from the Geto Boys, and we had talked about doing a Dance Mania Chicago ghetto house track about Candyman. I always liked that idea of a slow, plodding, more dance-oriented track, using that line repeated as a hook.”
Daveed Diggs: “We had always talked about how that line is one of the scariest lines in rap music, it's just really good writing. Scarface does that better than anybody. What we had was this very Chicago, these really specific reference points, to me, that I had to connect. That's how I saw the challenge in my head, was like there's this very Texas lyric and this very Chicago concept. Fortunately, Candyman already does that for you. It's already about the legacy of slavery in this country. So I just got to lean into those things.”
’96 Neve Campbell (feat. Cam & China)
Jonathan Snipes: “This was actually the second thing we sent them—we made an earlier beat that had a sample that we couldn't clear. We wanted to make something that sounds a little more like jerk music and something that's a little bit more tailored for them.”
WH: "We didn't have our Halloween, Friday the 13th slasher song. The idea was to not have Daveed on it at all, except to rap the hooks, and just to have female rappers basically standing in for the final girl in a slasher movie. But then we liked Daveed's lines, we wanted him to keep rapping on it.”
DD: “It felt too short with just two verses. We were like, ‘Well, put me on the phone and make me be the killer.’”
WH: “There's a Benny the Butcher song called '’97 Hov,' this idea of referring to a song by a date and a person that's the vibe you're going for. So some of the suggestions were like, '’79 Jamie Lee Curtis' or '’82 Heather Langenkamp.' But then with Daveed on the phone and making a Scream reference, '’96 Neve Campbell' made more sense.”
Something Underneath
DD: “There's a whole batch of songs we recorded in New York while I was also doing a play, and so we'd work all day and then I'd go do this show at night. For a long time, there was a version of this one that I couldn't stand the vocal performance on. It's obviously a pretty technical song, and I just never nailed it and I sound tired and all of this. So it ended up being the last thing we finished.”
Make Them Dead
WH: “We did ‘Body & Blood’ and ‘Wriggle,’ which both take literal samples from power electronic artists and turned them into dance songs. The idea for this was, let's do a song that instead of borrows from power electronics and makes it into a dance song, let's try to just make a heavy, slow, plodding thing that feels like real power electronics.”
DD: “When we finally settled on how this song should be lyrically, it was actually hard to write. Just trying to capture that same feel. There's something about power electronics that feels instructional, feels like it's ordering you to do something. The politics around it are varied, depending on who is making the stuff. But in order to sit within that, it had to feel political and instructional, but then that had to agree with us.”
She Bad
WH: “That's our witchcraft track.”
JS: “Obviously, this ended up having some melodies in it, but it started as those, but it really is just field recordings and modular synths, and there isn't a beat so much and the melody is very obtuse in the hooks. It's mostly just looped and cut field recordings.”
DD: “I've been moving away from something that we did in a lot of our previous records, like really super visual, like precise visual storytelling that feels really cinematic, where I'm just actually pointing the camera at things, so that was fun to try that again.”
Invocation (Interlude) (with Greg Stuart)
WH: “It's a joke about Alvin Lucier's beat pattern music, his wave songs and things like that, but done as if it was trying to summon the devil.”
Pain Everyday (with Michael Esposito)
DD: “I love this song so much. Also, I definitely learned while writing it why people don't write whole rap songs in 7/8. It's not easy. The math, the hidden math in those verses is intense. It kept breaking my brain, but now that it's all down, I can't hear it any other way, it sounds fine. But getting there was such a mindfuck.”
WH: “So then the idea was it's in 7/8, it's about a lynched ghost, so the idea we had was a chase scene of the ghost of murdered victims of lynching.”
Check the Lock
WH: “This was conceived as a sequel to a song by Seagram and Scarface called ‘Sleepin in My Nikes.’ That was a rap song about extreme paranoia that I always thought was cool and felt like a horror, like an aspect of horror.”
JS: “This is the one time on this album that we let ourselves do that like John Carpenter-y, creepy synth thing.”
Looking Like Meat (feat Ho99o9)
DD: “I think they reached out wanting to do a song, and this had always felt, we always wanted this to be like a posse track, kind of. This was another one that I wasn't going to write a voice for actually, we were going to try to find a better verse.”
JS: “Which is why the hooks are all different—we were going to fill them in specifically with features, but sometimes features don't work out. This is like our attempt at making the more sort of aggressive, like a thing that sounds more like noise rap than we usually do.”
WH: “The first thing on this beat was I bought 20 little music boxes that all played different songs, and I stuck them all to a sounding board and put contact microphones on it, and just cranked them each at the same time.”
Eaten Alive (with Jeff Parker & Ted Byrnes)
DD: “I had been in this phase of listening to Nipsey [Hussle] all day, every day, and all I wanted to do was figure out how to rap like that. So from his cadence perspective, it's like my best Nipsey impression, which we didn't know was going to turn into a posthumous tribute.”
WH: “And the rapping was also partly a tribute, just spiritually a tribute to No Limit Records. That's why it's called 'Eaten Alive,' which is named after a Tobe Hooper horror movie about a swamp.”
Body for the Pile (with Sickness)
WH: “It already came out [in 2016]. It ended up being on an Adult Swim compilation called NOISE. We did it with Chris Goudreau, our friend who is just a legendary noise artist called Sickness.”
JS: “We always thought that would be a great song to save for a horror record, and then years went by and we weren't going to include it, because we thought, ‘Well, it's out and it's done.’ We looked around and I don't know, that comp isn't really anywhere and that track is hard to find, and we really like it and we thought it fit really nice. When we started putting it in the lineup of tracks and listening to it as an album, we realized it fit really nicely.”
Enlacing
WH: “The cosmic pessimism of H.P. Lovecraft is all about the horror of discovering how small you are in the universe and how uncaring the universe is. So this song was about accessing that fear by getting way too high on Molly and ketamine at the same time, then discovering Cthulhu or Azathoth as a result of getting way too fucking high.”
JS: “My memory is that this was never intended to be a clipping. song, that you and I made this beat as an example of, ‘Hey, we can make normal beats.’”
DD: “That Lovecraftian idea was something that we played in opposition to a lot on Splendor & Misery, so it was good to revisit in a way where we were actually playing into it, and also it definitely feels to me like just being way too high.”
Secret Piece
WH: “We wanted to really tie the two albums together, so the idea was to get everyone who played on any of the albums to contribute their one note. So we assembled the recordings of dawn and forests, and then almost everyone who played on either of these two albums contributed one note.”
JS: “We have a habit of ending our albums with a piece of processed music or contemporary music. We ended midcity with a take on a Steve Reich phased loop idea, and we ended CLPPNG with a John Cage piece, and then There Existed ends with Annea Lockwood's 'Piano Burning.' So we wanted something that felt like the sun was coming up at the end of the horror movie, a little bit.”
WH: “That was the idea was that we were exiting, it's dawn in a forest. So dawn in a forest in a slasher movie or a horror movie usually means you're safe, right? The end of Friday the 13th one, the sun comes up and she's in the little boat, but that doesn't end well for her either. We did not have the jump scare at the end like Friday the 13th.”
DD: “I pushed for it a little bit, but some people thought it was too corny.”
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