bucketseesaw

[bucketseesaw]

head buts u like a cat head bc i love u

[bucketseesaw]

the most annoying couple at the costume party 🫶

[bucketseesaw]

A Little (bit of) Love

My piece for @tryzine !!

-

It starts deceptively simple: Cellbit and Roier are taking a walk together through the Favela at sunset, fresh coffees in their hands from Starbobby. Cellbit can’t stop staring at Roier. Roier can’t stop staring at Cellbit. Bobby is watching from above, probably rolling his eyes at how goofy Roier looks when he’s in love. 

There are two creatures walking a step behind Cellbit and Roier that Cellbit is purposefully ignoring. 

Roier’s shoe comes untied next to a recently-added flowerbed. Cellbit offers to tie it, Roier laughs and teases Cellbit, Cellbit hands Roier his coffee to hold as he crouches and takes Roier’s shoelaces in his hands. 

Just barely visible through the gap between Roier’s legs, Pulgoier looks blankly up at the flowers. They’re taller than it is, but just barely. 

?, the disgusting little thing, follows Pulgoier’s gaze. And then, horrifyingly, and entirely of its own accord, it reaches up and snaps a flower off at the base of its stem. It holds the flower out to Pulgoier, head ducked just slightly, almost bashfully; Pulgoier doesn’t smile, because it can’t, because it isn’t real, but it does take the flower. 

Frozen in abject horror, Cellbit doesn’t react as Roier annoyedly taps at his head and asks what’s taking so long. Why is he just sitting there, what’s wrong? 

And then Roier turns around and sees his Mini-Me holding the flower close to its chest and pressing a plastic kiss to ?’s cheek, and Roier gasps. 

“Aww, look!” he coos, fingers tangling in Cellbit’s hair excitedly. “They’re in love!”

And Cellbit feels nothing. 

-

Cellbit’s son is gone. So is a significant part of Cellbit’s heart, and yet he knows that he is still capable of feeling love. He’s alive, after all: he isn’t a religious man, but he likes to think that everything with a heart can feel love. Dogs love their owners. Lions love their mates. Crocodiles love the hunt. Parrots love to show off. 

The Mini-Mes? Notably not alive. They aren’t real. They’re plastic and felt and yarn and whatever-the-fuck electronics the Federation shoved into their fake little bodies. Their nerves are made out of copper. Their veins are filled with self-recycling machine oil. Their hearts are combustion engines that run off of the items that their islander counterparts provide them daily. 

Cellbit knows this. He’s cut his Mini-Me apart so many times that ? knows not to squirm on the dissection table. Every time he’s sewn ? back together, he’s made ? hold the roll of string so it doesn't roll away. He’s made ? bleed oil to the point that he once caught ? drinking gasoline when Cellbit’s back was turned. 

The Mini-Mes don’t feel emotions. They can’t. They aren’t real. They’re creatures, if one could call an inhuman amalgamation of wires and eco-friendly microplastics a creature. It’s more apt to call them robots. 

Monsters. 

Cellbit knows that the MIni-Mes were created for war. He watched the video at that conference, he knows exactly what the little assholes were made for. Now that they’re stolen, their purpose has probably been shifted by the Federation from fighting to spying. 

They can’t feel love. This much, Cellbit knows. They were created for battle, and now they’re just biding their time. Waiting. 

The fact that ? seems to be in love with Pulgoier is an outlier that should not be considered. They’re both just mimicking their owners, that’s all. Which begs the question of exactly how adaptive the Mini-Mes are; they can change appearance at the drop of a hat, but behavior? They’ve been robotic up to this point, what changed? 

Cellbit asks this to ? as ? sits in its cage staring at the oil-stained wall. 

?, of course, doesn’t respond. That’s good, Cellbit doesn’t know what he’d do if the little bastard learned how to talk. 

But, at the lack of a response, Cellbit inexplicably feels a sense of… God, is this bravery he’s feeling coming off of ?? Is that it? An attitude? 

Cellbit’s eyes narrow, and he leans in closer to the cage with a sneer. 

“Whatever you’re doing, I’m onto it,” he growls. 

? just adjusts its goggles in response. Its hand briefly dips into the Fear Room’s light, exposing a thin black line drawn around ?’s left hand ring finger. A ring. 

Cellbit is so surprised that he doesn’t even feel angry for a good moment. 

But then ? looks up at him as if asking, “And what about it?”, and Cellbit finds himself standing and kicking the cage so hard that it falls over, sending ? toppling. 

A ring. A goddamn ring. 

A goddamn mockery, more like. It’s mocking him. The Federation is mocking him, he knows it. He fucking knows it. 

(But… why?)

-

Pulgoier starts holding ?’s hand. ? keeps picking things off of the side of the road to give to Pulgoier, and Cellbit hates it. 

Roier makes a little shoebox bed for them that he puts under his and Cellbit’s own bed. Instead of powering off for the day in a corner of the room, ? and Pulgoier go there at night, and Cellbit hates it. 

? and Pulgoier sit across from each other on the floor when their owners have their meals. Sometimes they pretend to eat, usually pretending to feed each other, and Cellbit hates it. 

Richarlyson would have killed them by now. Cellbit wishes he was here to do so, but. 

But. 

-

But it’s well past midnight, and Cellbit can’t sleep. This isn’t anything too unusual; he learned how to live off minimal sleep back during the War, for better or for worse. 

But Roier can’t sleep, which means that he’s somewhere in the castle, which means that Cellbit is somewhere in the castle because there’s no way in Hell he’s letting his depressed and sleep-deprived husband wander around mourning. 

Tonight’s ‘somewhere’ is the garden, and Cellbit has Roier in his arms as they sway back and forth to the music playing softly on Roier’s communicator. (The Federation is shitty for so many reasons, but at least it’s providing the island with Spotify Premium free-of-charge.)

The song is unimportant. So are the two little freaks of nature watching from beneath a rosebush. So are the Federation’s hidden cameras, and Bad somewhere downstairs trying to carry Cellbit’s dining table out the door, and the itching bloodlust in the back of Cellbit’s brain. 

What is important is Roier, and so Cellbit focuses all his attention on him. 

He’s tired, clearly so: his hair is more of a mess than usual, his clothes are rumpled and wrinkled, his shoes are untied, his bandana is lost somewhere in the bedroom, his lips are chapped, and the circles under his eyes are dark enough to rival Cellbit’s. 

Cellbit doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful man in his life. 

He says as much, words ghosting across Roier’s pale lips. 

Roier smiles weakly, and he murmurs a quiet, “No, you.”

The song changes to something a bit quicker. They both ignore the change in tempo and decide to follow each other’s, instead. 

Cellbit’s arms tighten around Roier. He pulls him closer, nose burying itself in the side of Roier’s neck and breathing in his scent and internalizing it, filing it away in the little cabinet in his brain labeled ‘Roier’.

“You stink,” he grumbles. 

“Yeah, because you’re all over me,” Roier responds. He lightly pinches Cellbit’s side. “I know what we’re doing when we get back inside.”

Cellbit whines, sagging in Roier’s arms. He loves his husband, but he does not love showering with him; Roier takes so long under the water that it’s running cold by the time it’s Cellbit’s turn, and his shampoo smells so strongly that it makes Cellbit have an asthma attack. 

Cellbit doesn’t even have asthma!

What Cellbit does have is an unfortunately-acute sense of hearing. It’s a blessing at times, and it’s a curse. 

His eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he hears the absolute faintest of sounds: the crunching of grass beneath clumsy feet, and the overworking of machinery as it tries to figure out how to laugh.

At the same time, Roier gasps, “Mira, mira!”

But Cellbit doesn’t look. Why should he? He’s having a good time. He doesn’t need some… some… some things ruining it. 

“Ay,” Roier insists, poking Cellbit between his ribs once. “Gatinho, mira.” 

Another poke. “Mira.” 

Another poke. “Cellbit.” 

(Poke.) “Cellbo.”

Cellbit’s eyes squeeze shut. He presses a kiss to the crook of Roier’s neck to try and appease him, but Roier just pokes him again. With determination. 

“Stop ignoring me!” he huffs. “Unless… you hate me? You want a divorce?”

At that, Cellbit’s head snaps up in a panic. 

“Não!” he shouts. Why would Roier ever…

Lips twitching into a semblance of a smile, Roier grabs Cellbit’s face with one hand- squeezing his cheeks together and making him feel a bit like a fish- and turns it to the side. 

…right. If there’s one thing Roier is, it’s a fucking asshole. (And a handsome one at that.)

Cellbit’s shoulders sag in relief, but said relief quickly melts back into annoyance as he’s forced to look at the Mini-Mes and their… well. It isn’t dancing, that’s for certain. 

Pulgoier has taken the lead, just like Roier has. It’s holding ?’s little hands and rocking from side-to-side: left, right. Left, right. Left, right. It doesn’t move from its spot other than a small amount of shuffling as it tries pulling at ?’s hands in an attempt to get it to actually move. 

? is still. It’s staring directly into Pulgoier’s beady little eyes, absolutely frozen. If it could blush, Cellbit is sure that it would be doing so. 

Cellbit inadvertently copies it, stiffening against Roier’s body and stopping any and all movements. He doesn’t mean to- he wants to keep dancing, to keep ignoring the Mini-Mes and their bastardized attempt at “romance”, but… 

“Look,” Roier quietly says, sounding almost awed. 

He lets go of Cellbit’s face so he can press his cheek against Cellbit’s. 

Cellbit feels Roier’s jaw work against his as he concludes, “It’s us.”

Because… it is. It is, somehow, in such a fundamental way that Cellbit can’t really identify it as anything but Cellbit-And-Roier. 

“Oh,” says Cellbit, voice hardly above a whisper. 

He watches as Pulgoier tugs on ?’s arms, and as ?’s legs start to shake under it. 

Cellbit doesn’t actually remember a lot of his wedding reception; between the explosions and the alcohol, it’s all just a lot of blurry faces and the feeling of Roier-Roier-Roier-Roier-Roier. 

What he does remember is being ushered into the center of the dance floor along with Roier and freezing. The world faded from around him, and all he could think about was Roier’s smile as he took Cellbit into his arms; Roier’s warm hands on his body; Roier’s alcohol-laced breath across his face. His body was a stranger. 

He remembers thinking, ‘Shit. I don’t know how to dance.’  Because he didn’t, and he still doesn’t, because he never had a chance to learn how. It just never came up in his life, and then, suddenly, he was supposed to dance. At his wedding. In front of the entire island. And everyone he knew.

And he remembers the way Roier’s face softened as he picked up on Cellbit’s anxiety. His hands slid from Cellbit’s back, up to his shoulders, down the lengths of his arms, and to his hands. He tangled their fingers together, took a step back, and winked. 

Pulgoier physically can’t wink, but it otherwise does exactly what Roier did all those months ago: it takes a step back, and it just starts spinning. 

? can’t shout like Cellbit did back then, but it otherwise does what he did all those months ago: it gets pulled along, forced to spin along with its partner, stumbling over its own feet and flailing about like a doll caught in the wind. 

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Cellbit mutters. 

“I can,” Roier replies. “He’s your Mini-Me, of course he can’t dance for shit.”

He yelps out a laugh as Cellbit indignantly steps on his foot. 

Roier’s right, though; Cellbit can’t dance for shit. And neither can ?, being Cellbit’s shitty little clone. 

The night of the wedding, it took Cellbit a good solid minute to get his feet back under him. He felt himself smiling, and, maybe it was the wine in his system, but he found himself tugging Roier in a spin in the opposite direction. He was dizzy as Hell, but it made Roier laugh when he did it, so he just… kept doing it. Eventually, the spin led into a proper attempt at a slow dance that failed so miserably that the two of them gave up and jumped onto the stage for another round of karaoke.

Tonight, ? picks up on things a bit quicker than Cellbit had. It stabilizes, nods to itself, and starts pulling Pulgoier into its own spin. Almost immediately, they’re attempting a proper waltz, and Cellbit… 

Cellbit doesn’t get it. 

At first, Cellbit wasn’t sure what the end goal of the Mini-Mes was. Then, he realized that they’re little soldiers. Robotic supersoldiers capable of self-multiplication and growth, literal war machines. 

But then… why do they look like the islanders? Why does Pulgoier have the same dark circles as Roier? Why does ? have the same scar across its chest that Cellbit does? What’s the point? The Federation doesn’t do anything without a purpose, so why do the Mini-Mes have to look like their owners if they’re meant to grow up and kill them? 

Why can they dance? 

“What’s the point?” he murmurs. Roier hums in acknowledgement, and Cellbit takes that as a sign to continue: “Of copying us?”

“Because we’re sexy,” Roier responds. 

Cellbit rolls his eyes. “True. But, think about it, what purpose does any of…” (He waves his hand in the MIni-Mes’ general direction.) “...this serve?”

“I don’t know, but… look at them.”

Cellbit looks. He doesn’t understand. Something uncomfortable rises in his throat. 

? twirls Pulgoier, leading it into a dip. Pulgoier raises its head and presses its painted mouth against ?’s. 

Chest clenching, Cellbit tries to tear his eyes away, but he just… can’t. He can’t. Not when they’re right there, not when they’re-

“You think they’re learning from us, right?” Roier asks. “So… maybe they aren’t learning how to kill us. Maybe they’re learning to be us.”

Cellbit gives him a flat look. “Isn’t that just as bad?”

Roier shrugs, still watching the little monsters. 

“Maybe,” he replies. “I’m not a scientist. But… isn’t it kinda crazy that we taught robots how to love?”

But robots can’t love. They can’t. But. 

Roier’s arms tighten around Cellbit’s body. His smile is just as forced as it has been since the eggs all vanished, but his eyes are surprisingly soft as he watches the Mini-Mes tumble into the grass from the force of their silent, impossible laughter. 

“They’re just copying us,” Cellbit weakly says. “It isn’t actually real.”

“Maybe,” Roier hums. One hand travels up to cup the back of Cellbit’s head, gently pulling it against his chest. Cellbit listens to Roier’s heartbeat and wills his own heart to match its pace. 

“Or,” he continues, “maybe it is. We found our reasons. Maybe they found theirs.”

They watch the Mini-Mes, and the Mini-Mes don’t notice. 

The song changes, and Roier starts leading Cellbit into another dance. 

Cellbit’s eyes slip shut, and he lets himself get swept away by Roier’s movements. 

(Bagi would call Cellbit a monster, but Cellbit found love in the end. So maybe, just maybe, ? could have done the same.)

[bucketseesaw]

Happy anniversary guapoduo!! I'm late but instead here's a fic where Cellbit and Roier kill, cook and eat a man.

The CW are exactly what you'd expect

Title: Sweet Blood

Author: Mind_Boi

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66662929

[bucketseesaw]

I'd still trust you with my life doctor tbh

[bucketseesaw]

if chapter 4 did anything its that it reminded me how zooted she is for the lizard

[bucketseesaw]

original url http://www.geocities.com/beldacovington/

last modified 2009-04-25 22:21:05

[bucketseesaw]

i miss them a lot

[bucketseesaw]

regret spiderbit is so important because without that you don't have like. well i mean i don't think they would've gotten married without that foundation and even aside from that consequence i think you wouldn't have the same relationship at all. the way they came together, the way they tried to make each other feel less alone and more seen and heard during that time, the way cellbit wanted to make sure no one ever felt like that again, the way roier wanted to keep cellbit safe from the federation, it's all so tangled up and so much a part of every facet of their relationship going forward. you wouldn't have "wait for me, i'll come for you" you wouldn't have their wedding vows you wouldn't have any of it without regret and without the kindness they showed each other as both friends and romantic partners during that time. they understood each other like no one else and everything that came afterwards built on top of that understanding and compassion for one another

[bucketseesaw]

Spiderbit Month (Week 2) : Cuddling | Amaranth

[bucketseesaw]

Early Spiderbit interactions are hilarious because they're so NORMAL. So unbelievably normal. Literally just two regular people having a regular conversation. Increasingly rare sight with these two the longer they know each other

[bucketseesaw]

It is absolutely crazy to me how many unique forms of casual physical affection is conveyed through Minecraft cubitos on the QSMP. I'm sure this applies to a lot of the characters, but I'm thinking about Spiderbit specifically right now. Like. SO MUCH of what they do are little touches that can easily go unnoticed because of how casual they are, but that Feel very real and gentle once you see them. Roier cubito resting his head on Cellbit cubito's lap during Gordinho Gostosinho. Them constantly sitting and standing next to each other, as if they're holding hands or bumping shoulders or just looking really intently into each other's eyes, lost in their own world. The way they demonstrate their kisses by getting really close to each other's faces. There are so many little things they do that I can't possibly list them all. Just moments like THESE shown below, like.

It's so so so easy to see the affection and it's just cubes and it's insane to me that they can do that

[bucketseesaw]

Based off of this au, coming soon to ao3 I think!

-

Roier wakes up dead, and he's fucking starving.

"Mmph," he says, words frozen in his mouth. His throat is dry. His tongue isn't cooperating.

There are two very pointy teeth pinning his tongue to the floor of his mouth, and, really, he should've considered this before asking to get killed.

He's hungry. It's chewing at his brainstem like a rat: feed. Something so base and instinctual that it feels the same as how the color red looks, clawing at his stomach and threatening to tear it open unless it gets fed within the next five minutes.

The world is still blurry around him from the whole dying thing, so the first thing he feels after his all-consuming hunger is a heavy pressure on his chest. Third: something wet on his chest. Distantly, fourth: the sound of someone crying.

"I'm sorry," he thinks he hears, but he isn't sure; turns out dying does things to you, like making things just kind of distant.

Roier frowns. He doesn't like this.

He's on a bed, he thinks. Or, well, he should be on a bed. Their bed. He asked to be turned in it, but he also remembers a garden. Lying in his husband's lap beneath a tree holding his hand reassuringly and smiling and telling him to get it over with, Roier was tired of waiting.

But now he's on a bed, and he's hungry, and Cellbit is crying, and Roier is dead. He's dead and hungry, and his husband is crying.

Weakly, Roier tries to raise an arm from where it lays by his side to stroke Cellbit's hair (Cellbit loves when Roier pets him), but he can't get it up more than an inch before he's forced to drop it out of exhaustion.

But that half an inch is enough to get Cellbit's attention. He sits up and lunges towards Roier's face, immediately cupping it with both hands and looking down at him worriedly. The world focuses around him, and Roier falls in love all over again.

"Guapito?" Cellbit asks. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

God, he's gorgeous. He's crying, and he's gorgeous.

Roier can't help but smile. His new fangs clip his lower lip, but that's fine. Just another way to show their bond.

"Ay," he croaks, "why are you crying, pendejo? I'm fine, see?"

But, really, with his fangs, it comes out a bit fuzzier. Fuzzy enough to make Cellbit crack a grin. He wipes his eyes with the end of his sleeve and he sighs and he leans down to press his forehead to Roier's, eyes slipping shut from relief.

"You worried me, asshole," Cellbit huffs. "I didn't think you would wake up."

His hands finds Roier's, and he holds them. His ring is cold, but so is the rest of him. It's the whole being dead thing, nothing that Roier hasn't gotten used to over the years.

But...

Roier frowns again. "Of course I would wake up. What, did you think you killed me or something?"

Silence. And then Roier is forced to close his own eyes to keep Cellbit's tears from pouring into them as his adorably-stressed husband starts crying again.

God.

"I did!" Cellbit cries. "You're dead!"

"Yes, because I wanted to be dead!"

Oh, that sounds bad. It makes Cellbit's grip tighten to an almost-uncomfortable degree, and he starts crying even harder, and, honestly, this is not what Roier had wanted to deal with immediately after waking up. He wanted a hot sexy vampire makeout session, not feelings.

So he tries again with: "I mean I wanted to be like this! A vampire! Like you!"

His stomach clenches from hunger and from... guilt, probably.

"Twelve hours," Cellbit grits out, and Roier winces. Yeah, that's guilt.

Because turning a vampire is supposed to be a pretty quick-and-easy deal. It apparently took Cellbit an hour to get turned back in, like, negative one-hundred b.c., and Cellbit says that he ran on the long side.

"Okay," Roier quietly says, "but I'm fine now, right? Look at me, gatinho, do I look dead?"

His eyes open, and they meet Cellbit's.

"Yes," Cellbit flatly says. "Very."

Ouch! But. Well.

"You look deader," Roier teases. "At least I'm sexy."

"Dead and sexy."

Roier rolls his eyes. "Culero, you are dead and sexy! Now we are dead and sexy together."

Cellbit rolls his eyes, but at least he's mostly done crying. His eyes are red, and not in the vampire way, and his hair is a complete mess. He's in one of Roier's hoodies, and it looks absolutely ridiculous on him. One of his hands is bandaged from the initial feeding he had to give Roier during the turning process.

Roier lightly tugs at Cellbit's hand until it moves. He (read: Cellbit) pulls it to his lips, and he kisses its knuckles reverently.

...And then his stomach literally, actually growls, startling him into dropping Cellbit's hand. He jumps, smacking his and his husband's heads together, and he collapses back into their bed with a groan.

Cellbit laughs, a beautiful thing, and he gives Roier a feel-better kiss right smack in the middle of his forehead.

"Hold on, I'll come back with dinner," he tells him, giving him a kiss on the lips and standing.

Roier whines as he leaves, reaching a gay, pathetic hand out after him. His arm dramatically flops off the side of the bed, and he stares up at the ceiling, and he waits.

Dinner. That'd be blood. Human blood. Cellbit had said something about a fledgling vampire's first blood having to be fresh, and it sounded pretty chill at the time, but Roier still doesn't know if that means he has to, like, kill someone. He's hungry now, but he'd probably feel pretty bad about it later during one of his usual existential crisis showers.

His nose twitches as the house's basement door opens. He feels himself start to salivate, Jesus. And it's weird because blood smells like shit: like bitter, spoiled milk combined with a used car lot. But he's so hungry, and-

And the bedroom door opens, and a bloody Cellbit deposits an unconscious man at the ground by Roier's feet with a groan. He rolls his shoulder, wincing.

Roier stares at the unconscious man. He licks his lips, but he can't... he can't sit up, he's so tired. It's like every part of him but his goddamn muscles came back to life, maybe this is why he took so long to wake up, maybe his body is just a little slow. Or maybe it's because he took so long. Whatever.

"Help me up," he says, and Cellbit gladly does so. His hands linger as he helps Roier settle on the floor, fingers trailing over Roier's shoulders and through his hair and down his neck. Roier, of course, leans into the touch, drunk on it.

But, eventually, Cellbit settles on the floor next to him on his knees, and he holds Roier's hand again. His thumb rubs over Roier's knuckles comfortingly, brushes over Roier's wedding ring and lingers.

Roier looks down at the man, and he swallows a starving, animalistic lump in his throat.

"I don't know what to do," he says.

Cellbit lets out a nervous breath of his own. He's taken Roier's hoodie off, probably because he doesn't want to get blood on it. (He's always complaining about the stains, and Roier- perpetual laundry not-doer- had always laughed it off. But now?)

"Just like this," he says, and he leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Roier's throat. "But with more teeth."

Roier gasps. "What, you want me to kiss him?"

"No, pendejo!" Cellbit laughs. He lightly pushes at Roier's shoulder with his own, briefly pressing his forehead against Roier's temple before backing off slightly and looking down at the man in front of them. "But... well, you've seen me do it before, haven't you? Just do what I do."

"But with less kissing."

"Gaupito."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

Roier laughs, trailing off as his stomach rumbles. Right. To business.

Awkwardly, he bends over, basically flopping over the poor guy with how weak his muscles are. Cellbit thankfully catches him and helps him get positioned.

Roier looks at the man's throat. He's never seen something so appetizing in his life besides his husband's body. He's never bitten anyone- okay, so he's bitten plenty of men before, but not like this. But it can't be that hard, can it?

He tries to position his mouth the way Cellbit does, and he has to look goofy because Cellbit bites back a giggle and gives the back of Roier's neck an apologetic kiss at Roier's petulant grumble.

"Okay," Roier breathes, mostly assuring himself. He's got this.

His teeth graze the man's neck, and then something snaps within him and he bites. It's like he's running on autopilot after that; he almost seems to take back seat to his own body, watching and listening as he growls almost like an animal and as he fucking devours the guy.

He's going to be sick, but he can't stop. He's so hungry, fucking hungry, and all he can see and feel and taste is red red red red red-

The man dies. Roier sucks him dry, anyway, slurping the last of his blood up and sitting up with an unneeded gasp, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Blood drips from his mouth, and he may be dead, but he's never felt this alive in his life.

He doesn't even have time to blink before he's being pulled into a bruising kiss, hands on his cheeks and foreign fangs digging into his lip.

"I love you," Cellbit murmurs, his own mouth painted red with another man's blood.

Roier rolls his eyes and pushes Cellbit onto the floor and onto his back with newly-recovered strength, smirking at the way Cellbit's eyes widen hungrily. Blood is smeared across his face like smudged secondhand lipstick, and he's smiling.

Roier is going to kiss the shit out of him.

And the does, crashing their lips together and letting himself get carried away in the tastes of blood and Cellbit.

Day one, an eternity to go.

'Til death do us part.

[bucketseesaw]

rewatching qspiderbit moments from today but from cellbits pov and when cellbit is talking to everybody at spawn and starts looks around like hes searching for someone then finally says where is guapito? and then way he like LITERALLY INSTANTLY notices qroier is not well like the SPIT SECOND he looks at him and is immediately like 😦r u okay and then cellbit happily shouting PUZZLE at the puzzle room and roier giggling at him in the background cus this man and his fucking enigmas (the way roier laughed so hard from his pov😭)they mean everything to me

[bucketseesaw]

o7 whatever u say boss

dealers choice? or just spiderbit being disgustingly cute?

Spider-Man is an enigma.

Reportedly, he was bitten by a “radioactive spider” when he was a teenager and that’s how he got his start in the heroing business.

Cellbit thinks that’s bullshit. There’s no such thing as a “radioactive spider”. And, even if there was, Spider-Man would’ve died from radiation poisoning; genetic mutation does not work like that, Cellbit knows firsthand just how it works, and it’s not like that. It’s a lot more painful and a lot less flashy.

Spider-Man is a mystery. Nobody knows who he is despite him being an active vigilante for almost a decade. He gives a different backstory to every newspaper interviewing him. He’s a puzzle, and Cellbit is going to solve him.

But first, Cellbit needs dinner. Then he can obsess.

The line at the deli is long enough to wrap around the block. Cellbit’s lucky enough to have gotten in it before it had gotten too long, but he still has at least another fifteen minutes to wait before he can get his goddamn sandwich and leave. He just wants a sandwich. A goddamn sandwich.

A car explodes in the distance. Cellbit can hear it, and he can hear the car alarm, and he can hear another explosion and a very French-sounding cackle. That’ll be Métal Noir, then- the most competent hero on the Federation’s payroll.

Cellbit rolls his eyes. Everyone in line mutters amongst themselves, slightly-but-not-really concerned. The man in line in front of Cellbit tenses, his shoulders hiking and his head snapping towards the noise.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Cellbit says.

The man hums curiously and glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

He has AirPods in, but he takes one out and asks, “What was that?”

“The explosion. I wouldn’t worry about it. Métal Noir has it covered, listen.”

He raises a bored finger and, as if on cue, there’s one more explosion, and then an excited cheer from the hero. He’s loud, loud enough to be heard blocks away.

The man’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! How did you know that?”

Cellbit shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

(It would be weird for him to say he could smell the fear and the blood, so he simply doesn’t.)

“Huh,” says the man. He looks Cellbit over with his eyes and turns around with a grin, pulling his other AirPod out and sticking the both of them in their case. “That’s cool! Are you a psychic or something?”

“…Or something.”

(Somebody’s scared.)

“Oh, me too. How does yours work?”

Oh. Huh. People don’t usually just offer up their abilities like that. So something has to be off.

So Cellbit smiles back, fake. “Nah, I was just messing with you. I’m a reporter, so I know a lot about heroes.”

The man’s face falls, also fake. “Wow, I see.”

But then he cheers back up, seemingly real. “I was just messing with you, too, then.”

And he winks, and Cellbit feels his face heat up just slightly.

(Someone is very scared.)

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees. For some reason, he winks back, and he can’t help but laugh lightly at the way the man’s cheeks redden. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Right, right,” the man smiles.

He laughs and offers a hand out that Cellbit hesitantly takes.

“Roier,” he says.

(Someone is very afraid.)

(Cellbit realizes that it’s himself.)

(And that’s okay.)

[bucketseesaw]

Spiderbit month by @atthebell Week 1: Guapito/Gatinho | Vampires

[bucketseesaw]

Spiderbit Month (Week 1) : Gatinho and Guapito | Vampires