community life bee boy

[yourgirlinpieces3]

hey does anyone know why they did that to me

[gil-bee]

He was always drawn to warmth, ever since he emerged from a cold room into an even colder castle all alone, Mesh had always been drawn to the heat that life just seemed to exude. His own hands were ice cold most days, finger tips tinged with the palest of purples and blues as he plucked flowers or did his siblings' hair. Joining the games didn’t change that either. Instead of Ranga's hair, he was brushing out Seb’s or Aria’s, instead of flowers for crowns, he plucked them as gifts and requests for kindness. Soft purples dancing up his arms as he tended to his hive, to his loved ones.

It was an accident the first time it happened. He had been reaching to grab from their crop when he felt the soft give of Paper’s hand, barely processing the texture before he had had to rip his own hand back, the side of his hand that had touched the other burnt and aching with the sharp temperature distance between them. He hadn’t mentioned the way it had hurt, laughing it away and silently thanking Jimmy for his abrupt return with more supplies for them. Still, that sting had lingered heavily on his mind as they later departed to find some supplies themselves, just him and the slime.

The next time it happened was also a mere accident. Just the briefest brush of his calf against Papers ever warm body as he got settled in a boat behind him, eager to go exploring and see what everyone else was doing. It ached all the same, and all the same he bit his tongue about it, settling in and shifting back until he nearly hung out the back of the boat. Surely if paper burnt his skin then Mesh himself had to harm the other in turn and that was plenty reason to maintain his distance even in these close moments. Hurting his beloveds was a thought that twisted his guts up, made his nails ache as though they had freshly torn through flesh to leave behind blood and poison alike.

His mind supplied the faintest memory of someone with flaxen hair, a beautiful smile charming him even now despite his inability to recall more.

The third time, it was intentional on both their parts, cold arms wrapping almost possessively around a burning hot torso as they sat with Seb by the pond. His tears burned his eyes almost as much as the slime’s touch did, hand prints scorched against the soft give of his shoulders. It was just the three of them now. Trizz had been forsaken, Aria had taken it’s leave unseen by them all, and Jimmy laid dead in his grave. The burn did so little to reassure him but it kept him grounded, kept him aware, kept him from taking another big leap with wings that would never work. He just tucked his face away in the safe cushion of Papers hood and waited the night through with them both.

The last time… He hadn’t even thought it would be the last time. They were getting desperate, everyone was. Their home had been trapped, their ghasts killed, they were running out of options to even feign survival. Paper was red too… He had a bloodlust to handle and two teammates incapable of helping him. If Bee had known then that the burning hot hug would be the last, he would’ve clung to Paper for longer, would have scorched his hand proper just cupping the man's face as he made him swear to be safe, to return to them in no less than an hours time. But he hadn’t known, none of them had. So he hugged paper just a touch too tight as if punishing himself with the burn before wishing him well, a promise to meet him back at home and a teasing remark being the last words they shared.

He was ice cold the next time Mesh saw him, body stiff and desperate from clawing at the ocean’s cruel grasp. Bee couldn’t even fully find it in himself to cry, simply cradled the body in the boat he had taken out to retrieve paper. There was no painful sting or instinct to snatch his hands away, just the coldness that had plagued the bee hybrid for his entire life. It wasn’t until they had buried paper in the graveyard, his hands slick with mud, that he seemed to even process that the slime was gone for good. There wouldn’t be anymore boat rides together or joking in the hydroponics home, no more warmth to follow after and depend on.

He sobbed by himself that night, curled in the darkest corner he could find.

It was just him and Seb for so long after that, the sheep's warmth pailing in comparison to the slime’s. He was at least grateful that Seb remained through it all. Even tried to convince him to put his armor back on and flee as the network of death was built above them. But Mesh was tired, exhausted to the bone and colder than ever before.

The first flash of heat made him flinch back as it landed, destroying what he had just finished fixing up and only partly eased by the water they all rushed to place down. The second one had his gaze snapping up to peer out at his soon to be killers in between the remaining boards and stone of his home.

His vision caught and blurred on the soft pink of the original wood, the warmth that was surrounding him and the scent of burning flesh. He raised his arms out almost desperately, tears billowing up only to fizzle away against his cheeks as he did, pushing himself as high on his toes as he could. He could feel the overwhelming burn of Paper’s hands reaching out for his own, scorching his flesh as he pushed himself further and further. He could hear his voice, reassuring him of their promise, consoling him, gently scolding him.

It was easier to imagine the screaming agony of being blown apart was the kind embrace of an old friend and Bee had always been the type drawn to warmth. Had always been the sort so delusional to believe himself capable of protecting his beloveds, to believe that jumping to a ghost was better than to be axed down by the monster that wore its face. His body would crumble under the heat and weight of his desperation for that kind delusion, the heat replacing his ever present coldness in the same way the cold had replaced paper’s warmth.

[phantomrose96]

Hey hey don’t cry. Character who destroys themself in the end for nothing

[quietwingsinthesky]

we’re so lucky that gilgamesh survived and is a banger. can you imagine if we found the oldest written human story ever recorded and it sucked balls.

[pinniposting]

“get a job” nope im splashing in da pool

via

[deathwarlock]

meet me under the pier we are going beast mode

[gil-bee]

The pound

[gil-bee]

It Was always a black void these days, an endless abyss of nothingness beyond two stars shining brightly above his head. A reminder of how terribly small he was in the grand scheme of everything both in the game and outside of the game. That was every dream.

This nothingness and the stars and their whispers. Violent and cruel, wickedly sharp with mockery.

“You failed to stand as a leader. They all die and they may as well die at your hand.”

“Your stand against the hunt didnt do anything.”

“Your sacrifice was for people who will always leave you. Leave first.”

Each word a slice across his desires and fortitude in the face of hurt and lost. A promise that there would always be a separation between himself and those he deemed beloved. And of course the void would always consume him, sending him bolt right in bed, sweating and crying.

Tonight was no different, sat upright in an underwater home, an offer made out of a shared desperation and acceptance at failure. His chest raised and fell rapidly with panting cries, every bit the terrified animal the void had made him into. Wide eyes flitted about in the room, first on the villager tucked into his own bed then the gates meant to protect, the members of a team not his own, and finally … finally..

Seb. His seb. The only other member he had left.

His hand trembled as it reached out, cupping a fluffy cheek first to feel the heat of his flesh against his own cold hands, then raising to run thin fingers through the shock of purple and green hair. It was soothing, proof that the other was real and alive, that seb hadn't abandoned him and taken flight in the night like aria had.

He hadn't expected to end up caring for the sheep as much as he ultimately did but the fates loved to fuck with him. Seb was easy to talk to and bond with, sweet and quick to protect him without undermining his own attempts to keep the team safe. Many nights ended up with them shuffling into beds close enough that they could both reach out and check the other over should they wake. Mornings spent eating whatever bread and carrots were left over in preparation for the blood that would be spilled. He held so few doubts that if asked, seb would follow him to hell and back, would pursue him into the mountains and warm his cold hands should he flee to the edges of the world.

He let out a shaky breath and finally pulled his hand away, stumbling out of the bed and back up into the hydroponics farm, padding out to the vegetable garden to peer up at the sky blurred by yards and yards of water. The sun was nearly in the sky, a new day would begin soon and deep down, he knew.

He knew that one would die before the other. He'd either abandon seb to the wolves or be devoured by himself. Both options sickened him to his core and yet, when the sun would come up fully and the announcement would ring out, he knew he'd step out into the light and bare his gnashing teeth to the hunt.

[frachilla]

The next part is out!

It covers the 3rd and 4th sessions of the season! And things actually happen this episode! I know, crazy right

[kosmogrl]

[dampfnudeldove]

shot in the HEAD. and you're to blame. You are not good. At dart game

[gil-bee]

A doorway stands open and unattended, carved through the black stone of the wall and peering into a hurriedly made room, a child's bed sits in the corner, toys scattered over the floor and barrels upon barrels of honey pressed against the wall. Froglights dot the floor and ceiling, a perpetual facsimile of the sun that would allow no plant to grow.

A child was once rushed through that doorway, clutched close to his mother's shoulder as she fled from attackers, dark eyes peering over pale skin and Grey hair to watch as loved ones fell as easily as flower petals. He watched, incapable of understanding fully, as a sharp flash of silver sliced easily through his great aunts neck, her head rolling and ears still briefly twitching before nothing, just a splatter of blood unheard over the rushing steps and air.

The doorway had been closed for some odd years before it opened once more, allowing a young man to step out, hair overgrown and unkempt, wings practically juvenile despite his age. He had stumbled through that doorway, stepping past skeletons and carapace pieces and blood splatters to see the world contained outside, a hand raised to block his dark eyes from the sun then falling to touch flower petals and water and metal long ruined by the weather only to take up a set of shears and cut away all the unruly hair he had been burdened with. His first haircut at 18 after many springs and summers had gone past without him and many falls and winters had claimed him in sleep.

A new doorway opened, a home that was basic but made with love, allowing two young to find refuge with him against the storms outside and the monsters that so often sought out the flesh of the living. Come morning, he hadnt told them to flee, instead offering something he only distantly recalled when he watched the sheep tumbling together in fields, family. And thus he had gained siblings, two brilliant siblings, a sister and a brother who helped him build a home better for them all.

But safety is never guaranteed even when the door is closed. Hunting resulted in being hunted, food could be scarce and the nights long and dangerous.

Another doorway opened up, all harsh metals and blood reds and trickery. The young man was desperate, offering himself in exchange for the means to protect his siblings. The doorway yawned open wider, consuming him as soon as he had signed his name in shaky cursive, leaving him sat in the belly of the beast in his own personal capsule, just barely able to make out others before darkness consumed his vision all the same.

The next doorway was with softer Grey's than his home, still sharp against the horizon and yet not all consuming like the blackened stone he spent years staring at. An open room with 8 beds with his tucked in the furthest corner, hidden by the bed of a prince like him, one who wore a proper crown unlike him. That prince had a kingdom afterall, he did not. The room and its doorway eventually shifted into a small dugout in the wall, all pale stone with a single bed in the corner, a chest containing flowers and a diary with only a torch to light the room.

And finally the doorway he was to walk through one last time. Dug out of the cliff face to give way to a plateau with a pond, up a few stairs and there was the beautiful home he had watched be built. All dark deepslate and pink wool and Sakura, a paw decorating the floor with a second story holding his bed and a platform of jingling amethyst. He had taken great care to patch the holes and destroy the ugly cobblestone after his anger had subsided, granted he only had oak or whatever but it was the thought. He turned to greet the others who had come to check on him and then….

There is an open doorway that stands unattended, carved from stone, a burnt corpse or two sits upon the floor.

[gil-bee]

Who do you want to win? The answer can be you.

Who outside of your team do you most want to win?

Who do you think will win?

"I dont really care anymore.... I was tasked to find a way home and I failed and I lost everyone I loved save for Seb and i... I bet ill outlive him too. So, yeah. Whoever wins, enjoy. Ive slicked my hands with blood and Im ready to get onto the end of the my story, broken neck and all."

[gil-bee]

What was the cost of love and loyalty in a game as cruel as this? Death gnawed hungrily at his fellow pound members with the greed of a beast starved and aiming for light in the darkness, blood splattering like vitiligo across the dirt and soft pink and dark grey's of their home. Snapped up viciously and suddenly when he scrambles in the ever rising sea, body new as a babes and yet heavy with the weight of a fight, heavy with the burden of something falling upon his neck, relief granted only in the flashes of burning heat soothed by the sharp jolt of cool water.

He shouldn't have been the last dark green, it never should have been him. And yet, by his hand and the hand of others and the hand of Gods and the world and the self… he had gained the status. The last dark green of the pound, at first 1 of 6 that remained then 5… then 4…. And finally 3.

Him.

Luna.

Fusion.

And the news that came with the fear, left him scrambling like a newborn fawn, struggling to even hold itself upon its legs. His head cranes to see a sky that he knows he will never be able to see again, sat upon the firmness of a beast he had not tamed yet made his own all the same. Argos nipping at the heels for a king he could never be. He would never be.

He was untrustworthy despite his desperate pleas, his begging and near crying. Further proof that he would never be the king meant for the great title of trickster, descendant of Hermes, blessed him by the goddess of binding craft and war. He was a mere boy standing upon the bow of a ship he could never have gained his own.

But he was desperate and he cried like a dying horse, a rabbit caught tight in a trap, a cow… golden blood oozing to act as the crosshair of cruelty. He is whisked away in a boat, taken around back, past the raging waters and the beloved sheep of a blind shepherd and the man eating beasts tucked in a farm, past the floating home of a god and into a lair of eels and dogs and those as desperate as he is.

And he begs. He pleads that he, a coward, was tucked away in the halls of another kingdom with friend and future foe alike. That his company was that of a loyal unknown and a tardy lover and ghosts possessing ghosts, all twisted necks and spilt wine and cut short screams. He sees the doubt on their face, his company once included a gnashing beast afterall, who bound its own jaws for him and yet ran so eagerly at the scent of blood. A siren once bound to him by a promise from a life he can barely recall. And yet he begs.

The cost is one so simple and yet so … cruel. Forgiveness, trust bought through blood. And he is no king of Ithaca. He is barely a soldier.. he is the princess of a fallen kingdom, led stumbling on legs lame with crazed fear to beg for salvation for whoever remains. From a lover once scorned.

“Whats the cost.”

And isnt it so obvious. To believe him in his innocence.

“And whats the cost for you?’

He merely reached to undo the gleaning clasp of the golden emblem that holds his cape, then eases the greying chiton lower, barely getting the fabric to his elbow, the neckline bowing under his ribs and stomach, before a blade digs into his flesh. It is burning hot and leaves him screaming and crying, pleas for a swift death left for only the gods and his audience to hear.

He is no king, even as he wakes sharp in a bed he then gifts. He is no king as he allows his only stead, his only remaining joy to be used and slain in his freshly made allies efforts to save themselves. Ghosts cling heavy to his chiton, new features adjusting slowly as it all crumbles around him, broken necks and shattered legs, bodies blown to nothing and sliced down. And he stands having sacrificed himself for a group dwindling by each breath.

At first 1 of 6…. Then 5….. 4…. And now only 3.

Seb.

Paper.

And Gil, the false king… fallen prince… slaughtered cow and caught rabbit and dying daughter and begging son. Neck broken, ribs torn open, body burning, broken upon the rocks and teeth and a cave floor.

[gil-bee]

"Why bother with it all. Its just the two of us now and we've been made targets to devour for reasons beyond me while also Heralded as cowards for surviving growing acts of cruelty in whatever way we deem necessary."

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Melissa Cox

[seaphine]

If it is meant for you, it will cross oceans, distances, and doubts to reach you.

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

And if I'm meant to be alone, please take away my desire to be loved.

k.b. // unknown

[miyaskylans]