IN THE MIDST OF LIFE

The beast stared at him from the brush and all he could do was remain frozen in place. Bill had known better to run, the creatures were far faster on their feet, and when it retreated Bill had wondered if it was merely out of hope that his presence would bring more meat to the table. Idealism of childhood had seen him imagine a world where he had understanding with the beast.

To look in the mirror now, and no longer see himself but that beast he had a long silent moment of reprieve with-- It rose to being the most prominent memory.

Face still fresh with stitches, yet already mending before the staples had time to be rejected. As he lifts his hand to gently pull at the skin in the same way he had all those years ago, he remembers his mother's tears. Staring at him as she held his gentle features.

'My boy... My beautiful boy.' Trying to remain strong her voice had quickly faltered, cracking before being consumed by her sobs. He wonders if she knew the pain he'd have to endure in that moment. Looking into his eyes and seeing the man he would be forced to become even beyond his years as Korbin's champion. Mothers oft had insight like that--

Tests. Surgeries. Pain. Suffering. Pushing the boundaries of what his body could do, forcing evolutions from the bonded tuog DNA.

tears cling to his cheeks . the consequences of two minds acting as one, of feeling what the other feels . ❝ why’d all that happen to you ? that’s not fair . ❞

It snaps him out of his daze, reminding him rather suddenly that there were those who hadn't been forced to endure the pain. For him it was normal, these thoughts and memories had become scar tissue in a mind that had been forced to evolve. @telepieta was still so young, and Bill hoped that he wouldn't have to endure even a quarter of the suffering.

"It made me who I am." Bill says first.

Tristan's body trembles with coming tears, and for a moment Bill can only watch. Yet it's only a moment longer before Bill's thick arms consume the smaller man's presence. Squeezing his presence with a warmth that could only come from himself, and a restrained strength of similar breadth. It's gentle, for a moment, before Bill takes himself down to a knee. There eyes on level now, he brings him in again, tucking Tristan's head into the crook of his neck, his large hand tenderly rest upon the back within the tresses of Tristan's hair.

Face twists into an idle discomfort, wrinkles pulling in long lines away from his monstrous jaws.

"It... The hardest part about it is that it was necessary..." Billions died in those first months, so billions more could live. The Korbinites in their trillions wittled down by the pursuant forces of Musphelheim. Worse still was Bill could never endure himself to think of it as anything but fair. A random drawing, stable selections, 200 candidates. A single survivor, one champion more enduring than the rest...

telepathy is being there . seeing through the other person’s eyes, only distorted by their emotions, their PERCEPTIONS . telepathy is experiencing years in seconds . it is every painful realization, every guilt-ridden passing thought, it is the ache of wounds dissonant with flesh that never wore them .

Tristan grabs at his face as tears fall, as if his own face was going to be torn apart . needles stabbing and dragging the flesh to and fro, pulling it agonizingly taught . splitting open, further than it could go . pain . guilt . necessary . pain —

❝ — I’m sorry, ❞ Tristan quickly says in a gasp . his eyes are unfocused — ALL of them are, the extra pairs above and below his usual set snapping open, eerily bloodshot .

it takes him a while to realize he’s being embraced, letting himself be enveloped awhile before he shakily pulls away . a hand reaches up to wipe at his face . he realizes the stains on Bill’s shirt are too dark . He glances at his bloody hand and forces his eyes shut to stem the flow . it’s been a while since it’s happened, a telepathic reading strong enough to provoke a PHYSICAL reaction .

it’s nothing in comparison .

❝ I don’t know how anyone could get USED to that . I … don’t want to think it was — n — necessary . ❞ Tristan sobs, struggling to let out even breaths . ❝ I’m sorry . you must think I’m awful to look into your thoughts like that . ❞

a beat . ❝ I mean, who’d take your place ? Ben ? Felicity ? ME ?? you’re gonna be boss for a while, boss . ❞

Tristan wanted everything to be fixed . in every world, every strand of the web . of COURSE he did . but he’d gotten comfortable, being around people like him that seemed to … tolerate … him . even when he said stupid shit .

❝ I don’t have a normal life . I don’t have ANYBODY except the society . ❞

❝ wow, that’s SO much younger than I thought you were ! ❞ he’s technically not talking about how OLD Miguel is, he’s talking about how YOUNG he is !

a beat . ❝ I mean, who’d take your place ? Ben ? Felicity ? ME ?? you’re gonna be boss for a while, boss . ❞

Do you just want to cultivate your angst?

What do you mean? You're the one who stopped.

Do I really want to expose the world to this?

We have to get out of this country.

Is that everything?

I bet It'll be nice to come home to your apartment.

Do you have any music we can play?

Did you get hold of any good drink, [name]?

I'm sorry, but right now you sound like [name].

Isn't it a little too cold for that?

I'm just trying to get to bed.

The only thing left, is everything.

Have you removed my things?

We talked about this. It's for your own good.

You should leave modesty at the door before entering here.

I heard one of them wrote this weird book.

Are you OK?

You have paint on your jacket. There's paint all over your back.

There was something… Fuck.

It's just… I… I…

It wasn't by chance. It was no coincidence that we met.

I let myself in. Where have you been?

I'm fine. Don't worry.

I have to break up with [name].

I can't waste any more time.

I can't stay with [him/her/them] just to be nice.

You want interesting people around you?

Has anyone ever introduced you to any new music or recommended a book you didn't already read in high school?

Guys in long-term relationships become so lame.

Bullshit. Feeling guilty is slave mentality.

Your father used "gay" as a term of abuse?

I don't know. It's kind of complicated.

I've considered studying [major] again.

I'm going to get a coffee. Do you want one?

How long has it been? I can't believe we're sitting here like this.

Remember when I tricked you into falling in love, in Paris?

I was already in love with you.

But we had a nice time, didn't we?

Were you in love with me then?

I wasn't sick already then.

I felt a lot worse afterwards. I didn't understand anything.

I wanted to call. But they told me that wasn't a good idea.

I wish we could just… Meet all over again.

I must admit. After reading this I thought: "He must be some eccentric, old-before-his-time type".

Your first book sets the tone for your entire authorship.

Maybe you're right.....

A word to the wise: Never listen to old farts like me.

The important things in life are expressed through music, not words.

I have something I need to do.

I'm afraid the debate has to end here.

That must be the house.

It works better if you remove the lens cap.

Listen, "Rain Man", have you been out of the apartment yet?

What is your master's thesis about?

Is that how you work now?

I have been a little tired lately.

I like the edge. It's quirky, it's weird. It works.

Look at [him/her/them], has no idea that they go by the name of [mean nickname].

What's [he/she/they] saying? I can't understand the dialect.

What's that tattoo? An ad?

I just don't understand your friends' humor.

You're just jealous.

I knew them before they were famous and they were jerks even then.

You do have a point. "Jerk" isn't precise enough to describe them.

I don't care, I've had it. I hate people like [him/her/them].

What you hate is war and Trump and the World Bank and such.

Who the hell do you think you are?

You are the most immature people I have ever met!

Spreading nasty rumours about each other… I feel sorry for you.

Why do you hang out with these people?

I've met guys like you before. I just have one thing to say: It can't be easy to have problems in this crowd.

You are incredibly banal!

Does anyone want a drink?

Are you sure that's a good idea?

What does your psychiatrist say?

Is it a problem that [name] is here?

I didn't mean it like that.

I'm pretty nervous about that.

Please don't come over, you superficial imbecile.

Long time no see. Good to have you back.

I… I don't think… I have to go.

I just don't feel well. I'm tired.

Do you want to go home?

I can't do this. Sorry.

This was a mistake. It just isn't like it used to be.

I know it's important to you, but I don't want to write anymore.

Well "fan" is a little teenage, but "admirer" is so formal.

You probably haven't read it.

Excuse me, I was on my way home.

I just don't feel… I couldn't sleep… and… I don't know.

You're taking your medication?

Don't baby-sit me! I need time to myself.

Why did you buy me a plane ticket?

Did you look at the date?

The exact same date as the last time we went.

You can't just assume that I can, or want to, go to [name].

But can you at least consider it?

You live with your mom, don't you?

I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

I may have been a little nervous. How did I seem to you?

What did we do the next day?

We sat at a café and talked for ages.

What did we talk about?

What was I like? Was I happy?

I'm glad you came.

I decided I had to make you fall in love with me.

You were unsure of your feelings.

Anyway, it worked. It worked because I told you first.

Don't worry. You looked incredible.

What's the matter? What are you thinking about?

Why did you want us to come back here?

You don't love me anymore, is that it?

Do you have a personal connection to that?

A language which can grasp all the world's nuances.

A strong personal experience can become an intense story.

Bringing up all sorts of personal "tragedies", but that's not real "literature" is it?

Forget about that. Come on over.

So nothing's changed there?

I can't take it. It's too sad.

I was about to leave, but now things are picking up.

Are you alright?

I've had enough. Not just because we never see each other.

It's that you pretend to care, when you're so damn selfish.

You're such a damn cliché!

So you've seen it?

What? You've written something?

A lot of it is good, but we've always been honest with each other. This isn't your best work.

I'm glad you take it like that.

I mean, you haven't slept all night.

I'm not being nice. If you work on it this might be publishable.

That isn't important. I'm just writing for myself.

Why can you never say what you mean?

What the fuck are you doing?

You look much better now. How do you feel?

I found you. I managed to find you!

I love you. Everything is in synch now.

I can't take this anymore…

Hey… Come on. Get up.

You didn't give me a choice, running off like that.

I thought you knew.

Does anyone know why?

❝ wow, that’s SO much younger than I thought you were ! ❞ he’s technically not talking about how OLD Miguel is, he’s talking about how YOUNG he is !

the force of Bill’s body slamming him back against the wall was enough to wind the spider momentarily, breaths quickening . eyes refocused on the other, getting LOST in the storm of emotions .

he knew he was SMALLER, relatively speaking, to the other, but only now is starting to completely dawn on him . is there ANY way to do this without some sort of horrific injury ?

Tristan feels the bites at his neck and ear and he reddens . he doesn’t think that he CARES .

❝ I … I’m — ❞ a thin arm reaches up for purchase on the wall — fingers easily PIERCING through, small cracks forming . ❝ — a lot TOUGHER than I look . ❞ his legs wrapped around the other as much as they could with a held-back whimper .

he gasps at the sudden blazing hot contact, feeling firsthand the size different between them . even as his attraction admittedly deepened, the reality that he’d definitely probably die trying to get fucked by Bill settled in .

Tristan is almost more shocked by the tender touch on his face, a small flinch turning into him leaning into the massive grasp . his own hand comes up to rest over the grip, thinner fingers attempting to interlock with Bill’s . it’s not often Tristan’s touched, nonetheless gently or with any sort of reverence .

❝ maybe we could … start with that . ❞ he suggests in a soft voice, kissing at the hand grasping his face . ❝ or, uh … there’s ways we can … y’know, without — putting things inside of places . ❞

shadowed under Bill’s form he may be, Tristan felt like he was being bathed in sunlight . it was sweet, seeing someone who emanated such POWER in a more tender moment of vulnerability . he’s caught off guard by being lifted, a small huff of a laugh leaving him . it only makes it easier to sling arms around those broad shoulders and nestle in closer .

Tristan’s hands find the inhuman jaw, tracing the shape . when most of what you know about a person is their innermost mentality, outer appearances don’t matter so much . like a melody, it’s not about what you see, but what you hear and how it makes you FEEL .

❝ I’m glad . ❞

even tho their anatomies don’t fit together, he presses a kiss to Bill’s mouth the best he can, cradling his head to try and match the affection .

Wall felt best for support, Tristan's back found purchase there while Bill instead grasped at the spider's side, one hand still almost entirely engulfing his body. Bill was, indeed, thinking what he was, but logistics were as freshly in the mind as anything else. By the gods just one of Bill's fingers was practically the thickness of Tristan's arm.

Eyes locked onto his though, burning with all of that unspoken emotion. Bill leaned forward, pressing his teeth around the young man's throat to gently pull at pale flesh. Eagerly leaving marks, even if it were all he could do it would be plenty.

the force of Bill’s body slamming him back against the wall was enough to wind the spider momentarily, breaths quickening . eyes refocused on the other, getting LOST in the storm of emotions .

he knew he was SMALLER, relatively speaking, to the other, but only now is starting to completely dawn on him . is there ANY way to do this without some sort of horrific injury ?

Tristan feels the bites at his neck and ear and he reddens . he doesn’t think that he CARES .

❝ I … I’m — ❞ a thin arm reaches up for purchase on the wall — fingers easily PIERCING through, small cracks forming . ❝ — a lot TOUGHER than I look . ❞ his legs wrapped around the other as much as they could with a held-back whimper .

ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ || ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ!

"Tristan. Read my mind."

there’s a slow connection that forms . Tristan’s emotions extend and intertwine like threads weaving to form a bittersweet tapestry . he lets his admiration and WARMTH towards Bill be known, and in turn takes in the uncertainty and sadness .

a web springs from his wrist, attaching to the other man’s chest plate . with a bit of strength that tall figure is tugged down enough for Tristan’s lips to brush the side of his face and place a nervous KISS there .

Not that it mattered, his looming form towered over Tristan, bathing the smaller man in what was an impossibly dwarfing shadow. Warmth touches the edges of his pronounced cheek bones, and his pure white eyes lock upon the spider's. Bill is not so attuned to emotion, but something compelled him like a natural calling.

A spark without lightning, trapped in a web but far from resisting. A heavy breath sees their bodies pressed taught, Bill's form hunched in a subtle way, his hand holding firm at the small of Tristan's back. Rather, practically swallowing his whole presence.

For once in an age this is a moment he finds himself in where fighting is not the right response. Again he feels unworthy. Tristan wasn't the only one washed over with nerves and uncertainty, Bill was just much better at action in the face of it it would seem.

Instinct, nothing more, running off of the emotions they'd both been swallowed whole in Bill lifted Tristan off the ground, standing at his own full height. Locking his gaze with the other man, he relents. Tristan would like him to stay, he wanted to help.

shadowed under Bill’s form he may be, Tristan felt like he was being bathed in sunlight . it was sweet, seeing someone who emanated such POWER in a more tender moment of vulnerability . he’s caught off guard by being lifted, a small huff of a laugh leaving him . it only makes it easier to sling arms around those broad shoulders and nestle in closer .

Tristan’s hands find the inhuman jaw, tracing the shape . when most of what you know about a person is their innermost mentality, outer appearances don’t matter so much . like a melody, it’s not about what you see, but what you hear and how it makes you FEEL .

❝ I’m glad . ❞

even tho their anatomies don’t fit together, he presses a kiss to Bill’s mouth the best he can, cradling his head to try and match the affection .

the warmth of his companion is enough to soothe his nerves, at least a bit . under the looming, capable warrior there is a GENTLE heart that Tristan doesn’t need telepathy to see . watching the warrior peel away with every article shed, he smiles .

❝ yes, of course — you’re right . that’s why I wanted to TAKE you here in the first place . you deserve a little reprieve . ❞ part is the reason, anyway .

❝ thank you . you’re very sweet . ❞

his face burns brighter at the comment, so he steers Bill instead across the house . the decor is SUBDUED, much like the resident who occupies it, save for the office, which is quite decked out with ( rather futuristic ) colorful lights, screens, and cameras . his OTHER job, he explains . Identity still masked to the public but at least he can entertain and speak to his loyal audience beyond a passing SWING by .

he pauses at the bedroom, pushing open the door . it’s the only room in a bit of disarray, bed unmade and papers with half-written songs all over every surface .

❝ listen, I … MEAN what I said . you deserve to relax and let, uh, the adrenaline subside, as it were . you’re more than a fighter, at least to me, and … well, you can come over anytime if you want a break . ❞

Fingers tighten around his own biceps, tension from the soft touch that still slips along the surface of his warm orange skin. Burying the pain beneath the façade he wore, as ever it was necessary, alongside things long lost to the past like his original name or the smell of Korbin's beautiful fields.

Glancing around the spaces, he pieces together as much as he can about his new companion from all else but words. Admiring how well kept things seemed to be-- Though the bedroom was a bit of a mess it wasn't as though Bill could have judged all that much.

"I will take the moment, and appreciate your kindness." But was any ever lucky to have Bill? Had the christened Beta Ray Bill ever been a boon to any in his company or had his presence merely been as horrifying as the first time he looked into the mirror?

there’s a slow connection that forms . Tristan’s emotions extend and intertwine like threads weaving to form a bittersweet tapestry . he lets his admiration and WARMTH towards Bill be known, and in turn takes in the uncertainty and sadness .

a web springs from his wrist, attaching to the other man’s chest plate . with a bit of strength that tall figure is tugged down enough for Tristan’s lips to brush the side of his face and place a nervous KISS there .

there’s a little startled flinch at the impact, smile growing more NERVOUS by the moment . the fiddling with his watch FINALLY results in a portal opening, swirling with golds and oranges .

❝ it’s, um …. It’s a nice house ! ❞ Jesus Christ . he should just quit while he’s ahead . count engaging in a conversation with Bill as a win and take his leave .

laughing gently, he places a hand on the side of Bill’s arm encouragingly . the traverse through the opening seems to take no time at all, landing at a NICE looking living room . well-kept, if not modest . a bit DIM, with every window having the curtains drawn, a necessary need for privacy .

❝ umm … well, this is it . I mean, there’s more to it than THIS, obviously, but still not very, uh, SCENIC . sorry . if we go outside I’ll have to change clothes first . ❞

his spider persona is too well-recognized to risk being seen, especially with someone visibly from off-world in tow . ( the city could be enthusiastic with their love for Psy/der . is that cool or humiliating ? )

A tinge of heartbreak when he thinks of what home used to be for himself, but it's put away about as quickly as that hammer. Cape retracts too, clicking away in hexagonal blips of light in a pattern leading from its tail to his shoulder guards. It's a bit easier, far more casual, to move when such things were taken care of.

"At our own pace, there's little reason to rush. Yes?" Bill teases, it's light, playful, even when coming from that heavy and gruff tone. Hand lifts to pull the helmet off by the wings and carefully set it somewhere safe.

"You can show me your home? Let the adrenaline of combat wear itself down." Bill points a single finger at the young hero, raising a brow. "Besides, you seem awful flush as is. A moment of solitude isn't going to hurt." A moment of respite was rare for the Korbinite, war and death had been near constant until even very recently. Perhaps that was why he felt so alone?

the warmth of his companion is enough to soothe his nerves, at least a bit . under the looming, capable warrior there is a GENTLE heart that Tristan doesn’t need telepathy to see . watching the warrior peel away with every article shed, he smiles .

❝ yes, of course — you’re right . that’s why I wanted to TAKE you here in the first place . you deserve a little reprieve . ❞ part is the reason, anyway .

❝ thank you . you’re very sweet . ❞

his face burns brighter at the comment, so he steers Bill instead across the house . the decor is SUBDUED, much like the resident who occupies it, save for the office, which is quite decked out with ( rather futuristic ) colorful lights, screens, and cameras . his OTHER job, he explains . Identity still masked to the public but at least he can entertain and speak to his loyal audience beyond a passing SWING by .

he pauses at the bedroom, pushing open the door . it’s the only room in a bit of disarray, bed unmade and papers with half-written songs all over every surface .

❝ listen, I … MEAN what I said . you deserve to relax and let, uh, the adrenaline subside, as it were . you’re more than a fighter, at least to me, and … well, you can come over anytime if you want a break . ❞

Tristan’s gaze weighs downward, glancing at the enemies crumpled on the ground . their minds radiate pain, DEFEAT . Bill’s emotions feel like the warm sun on bare skin in comparison.

❝ honestly … I don’t . ❞ but he was given these powers, and so the responsibility will always be on his shoulders . maybe it’s something else they have in common . ❝ I’d rather be anywhere else if I could . especially if you come with me . ❞

the mask comes off . literally and figuratively . ❝ so … yeah, I guess I am . I have a LOT I could show you . ❞

Arms cross over his chest, "I see. Well, I do enjoy unique scenery."

Rolling his shoulders, popping the stiffness in his neck, Bill's eyes fall back onto the much smaller warrior. Softly he chuckles, breaking from the deflating combat and their enemies have finally started to falter to a standstill.

there’s a little startled flinch at the impact, smile growing more NERVOUS by the moment . the fiddling with his watch FINALLY results in a portal opening, swirling with golds and oranges .

❝ it’s, um …. It’s a nice house ! ❞ Jesus Christ . he should just quit while he’s ahead . count engaging in a conversation with Bill as a win and take his leave .

laughing gently, he places a hand on the side of Bill’s arm encouragingly . the traverse through the opening seems to take no time at all, landing at a NICE looking living room . well-kept, if not modest . a bit DIM, with every window having the curtains drawn, a necessary need for privacy .

❝ umm … well, this is it . I mean, there’s more to it than THIS, obviously, but still not very, uh, SCENIC . sorry . if we go outside I’ll have to change clothes first . ❞

his spider persona is too well-recognized to risk being seen, especially with someone visibly from off-world in tow . ( the city could be enthusiastic with their love for Psy/der . is that cool or humiliating ? )

he had to maneuver out of the way of crackling lightning, but his foresight allowed an effortless dodge . his mind was elsewhere, instincts going through the motions as his attention was mainly focused on his words .

and trying to keep them coherent . ❝ umm — it’s just that I worry, that’s all . about YOU . ❞

❝ and I — ❞ a pause to web one of their foes to the ground, noticing a feeble attempt to get back up . ❝ well, I guess I — want to … spend more time with you . ❞

"Oh? Do you not find enjoyment in destroying our foes?" Again, Bill could sympathize. It was common misconception with his association with his Norse companions that he saw the same need for battle as them, but there was far more honor in ending it before it grew beyond a controllable fire. Bill is equally not as socially disconnected as his comrades, he can see through the stuttering to the core of what was being said.

But it was more fun if he pretended he didn't.

Tristan’s gaze weighs downward, glancing at the enemies crumpled on the ground . their minds radiate pain, DEFEAT . Bill’s emotions feel like the warm sun on bare skin in comparison.

❝ honestly … I don’t . ❞ but he was given these powers, and so the responsibility will always be on his shoulders . maybe it’s something else they have in common . ❝ I’d rather be anywhere else if I could . especially if you come with me . ❞

the mask comes off . literally and figuratively . ❝ so … yeah, I guess I am . I have a LOT I could show you . ❞