#And I kinda want it asap

[haruhar-u]

Shit is getting real

[thekidsarentalright]

Hey, I've seen a lot of reasonable discussions about Gabe's zionism and I thought his latest comment on his initial post would be worth sharing. It was posted about 20min ago

It's not a perfect response, but I think it honestly is pretty acceptable. What are your thoughts?

thank you very much for sharing this with me! though i’m, of course, no expert on this my initial reaction to reading that is to agree with you- it isn’t perfect, but the level of self-reclection and accountability being taken by him there Is better than anything i could’ve hoped for. it’s a step in the right direction, i think, and i can only hope he continues showing this level or more of growth and education on what is happening in palestine and that his previous behavior and statements were Not acceptable. perhaps it’s the bare minimum or Veryyy close to it considering the harmful rhetoric he had been sharing, but some level of growth from that is still reassuring to witness.

[fl00mie]

I remember you're genocides 🫵

( do you even remember who moqi is ... hai its me )

now answering to your question.. no sorry i can't remember someone called like that-

(read tags pls)

[gotchibam]

Does anyone here draw in both desktop & mobile? I'm planning to get a galaxy tab at some point and since I don't really have any experience drawing on a (mobile) tablet, I'm curious abt how it feels to draw on one vs. drawing on pc w/ a graphic tablet 🤔

[reveluving]

boom boom boom boom

(I want you in my room)

blame this hc

[mechawolfie]

had a sudden thought like ok what if I made a laikas comet oc and he was a dhole.. so I did that 👍🏾 his name is tucker

edit: ok I gave him colors

[pernicious-pastas]

*cracks knuckles*

Creeps Headcanons !!

these are a little rushed but here’s some basic headcanons

Masky:

-Masky himself, is just a proxy. He's not Tim, He's not anybody, just alive to serve Slenderman and fulfill “menial” tasks in Slender’s eyes, which of course is actually the emotionless calculated butchering of citizens. He realistically has no discernable looks, age, or even a standing in humanity. But he aligns with whatever body he's in at the moment. While he's Tim- Masky is in his mid-late 20s, strong and incredibly skilled in combat. Muscular arms and broad shoulders with dark brooding eyes.

-While Masky is only here to research, prepare/confirm directions, as well as fulfill most of the missions- He can still have his own personality and tendencies !!

-Short-tempted, blunt, and none of the southern hospitality his vessel’s accent would incline you to believe, Masky can be described as “difficult” by many, many people. Most people actually.

-Around people who he actually does like he’s still a bit of a prick, but you can see there’s more that meets the eye. He’s funny and lighthearted, and willing to lend a helping hand no matter what situation he’ll end up putting himself through.

-smokes Marlboro Red Shorts. Haha.

Hoodie:

-Like Masky, He aligns with his current vessel. Early-mid 20s and incredibly buff, He's the tallest proxy standing at 6’2. Think college gym-bro whose body got snatched and taken to be inhabited by an unhinged sad man. Oh wait-

-Hoodie is quite standoffish and cold to people he doesn’t know, but his friends would describe him as a good soul trapped under a hard exterior and expectations. His hearty laugh is the most contagious of the creeps- if you’re lucky enough to get one out of him.

-Selective mutism whilst on missions/around certain people *caugh* slender *cough* as well as most of the creeps.

-He hangs out with Ben and E. Jack while not on missions. Though he does consider himself a loner and lives in a small cabin near the mansion he built himself a few 30 or so years ago, in a close proximity he also built four other cabins, which he (semi-reluctantly) allows Masky, Toby, and E. Jack use, the other is empty. Throughout his life he’s build countless cabins and camp-outs, which he takes advantage of regularly while out on missions.

Toby:

-Toby is in his mid-20s, with brown locks unkemptly framing his face. He's lean and tall, strong and intelligent, definitely the brains of the proxies. Toby has a few facial piercings from Ben using him as a practice dummy- though he loves the looks (Slender wants to rip them out)

-Because he's the only ‘human’ proxy, Toby’s given fewer missions and hours because of his lower mental and physical stamina, No super strength for Toby :(

-Slender allows him to work a part-time job as a result of that. Hoodie and Masky do the brunt of the work but Toby brings in their dough to survive- so they don’t really mind- they are sort of spiteful though.

-Toby works somewhere in food service… I'll get back to you on that

Ben:

- Ben is a 5’5 male who behaves and appears to be in his early 20s, due to him being in the “ghost” class of creeps, he ‘ages’ incredibly slowly. With a blond shaggy outgrown mullet, he's rocking your classic cool guy stoner look. average Weezer and Nirvana enjoyer (Kurt Cobain dupe ?? 😱). Multiple facial and body piercing/mods. Perks of ghost nerves and pain receptors- He technically has none!

-Being in the mansion for almost 20-30 years now, he's one of the go-to guys when you have questions or just want a buddy around. He's friendly with everyone even if just surface level, which means he's always down to stir the pot when he gets bored.

-Resident stoner and video game enthusiast. Have a few hours to kill and Slender to disappoint? Come hang in Ben's room!

-Part time sales associate in a slow-paced electronic parts & games store. Loves to look busy at the counter doing nothing for hours but is somehow employee of the month?? Favorite part of the job is organizing shelves perfectly and then moving around merchandise to do it all over again. Always late to work even though he comes in through an old tv in the back? what traffic??

-girl flirting with him: *points to the legend of zelda poster behind him* hey, has anyone told you you look like link?

-him, visibly sweating: i don’t know who that is.

Eyeless Jack:

-Jack is normally an ordinary, 6’5 man with dark brown curls that fall over his ears, he has a large muscular frame and shark-like teeth with distinct canines. He has dark grey skin, with long black claws, and of course, empty eye sockets with black tar sporadically leaking from them. So very ordinary!

-When hungry, Jacks's fingernails and teeth start to painfully grow, his eyes become pin-pointed and tunnel-visioned. The only sense he can make out is smell. Ripping into the first thing/person he can find and feeling bad later.

-Jack tries his hardest to stay well-fed. And with friends in high places, it's not a difficult task.

-He's a huge homebody. He doesn't like seeing people or going out, but he does like hanging out with the other creeps. He most enjoys the company of Hoodie or Ben, but doesn't mind the others. he comes off as aloof to the people he doesn't really make an effort to interact with.

-(I'm gonna write a Jack fic soon so just know he's possessive and a lover boy. details soon)

[artzybumpkin]

I know you kinda mentioned how the rest of of the smiley guys react to Al/lan's pregnancy, but do you have anything to expand off of that? Does G/lep get jealous or just unaffected by it? Is Ch/arlie ever awkward about it but trying to be cool? Eee I AM VERY INVESTED 😭😭

Figured I'd group these two together since they're similar❤️

(This one's a long one, buckle up y'all)

First thing's first.... telling boss man.

Al/lan had no immediate intentions to confess his pregnancy to anyone just yet, since he'd only JUST found out himself. He hadn't even been to see a doctor yet but after having 5 at home tests come up positive(not to mention the constant nausea and the slightest hint of a bump beginning to poke out under his tie)... it was painfully obvious. But after he had to come clean to P/im, he was persistently prompted to at least fill the boss in on his situation.

"I-I dunno, P/im..."

Though he didn't want to admit it, he was extremely nervous. Would this affect his job at all? His position?? What if he's viewed as a nuisance and gets fired for it?? He can't afford to be fired! Not NOW!

"Well... You won't know unless you try. Mr B/oss is uh.... a strange one, to put it frankly, but he's usually pretty understanding. I don't think he'd fire you over this. He's a father himself, after all!"

"Hmm..."

About that time they heard keys jingling just outside the back entrance. As expected, they heard the boss's voice sing out a gleeful 'Morning, guys' as he came through the door, passing them on his way to his office.

A gentle nudge from P/im suggested he go ahead and bite the bullet. With a dreadful sigh, Al/lan got up from his seat and made his way towards the office himself.

"Eh, Mr B/oss?... Could I speak with you real quick? It's uh... urgent."

"Oh hey Al/lan! Sure, come on in! What's up?"

"So.... something's come up, and-... Well, I don't really know how else to say this but-"

"Hold on, lemme stop you right there. I've seen this enough times to know where this is going."

Al/lan's eyes widened nervously. "You do?"

"Yeup. But If you're putting in your notice, I urge you to reconsider."

"I-...," he paused, losing his train of thought for a second, "What??..."

"PLEASE don't quit, Al/lan!" Mr B/oss clambered onto his desk, hands clasped together, a pleading look on his face. "I know firing Tyler was kinda out of the blue but there were reasons I can't legally discuss! It was a hard blow to all of us! We can't afford to lose you too! Things would be wack around here without you! Unbalanced! It just wouldn't be the same!"

"...."

"Who'll keep the finances in check? Who'll keep the paperwork organized and the files alphabetized and the plants watered and the shelves stocked and fridge clean and the... er- um... WHATEVER else you do! Please don't gooooo-!"

"I'm not- Mr B/oss, I'm not quitting!"

"You're... you're not??" he sniffled pitifully.

"NO! I'm trying to tell you I'm...," he hesitated a second before finally steeling himself. No sense in putting it off now, "I think I'm... pregnant...."

"Oh!..," he straightened up immediately, as if he hadn't just been bawling in front of his employee, "Is that all? You had me worried for a sec there, haha!"

Al/lan was completely taken aback. Wait... It was that easy? "You're... okay with this??"

"Yeah man, that's great news! I remember when Jason came around it was the happiest I'd ever been! It's nerve wracking, don't get me wrong, but it's worth it! If it's what you decide you want, that is."

The red critter's eyes darted side to side briefly in thought. "It won't affect my position at all?"

"I don't see why it would. Unless you just NEEDED some time away or something. Whatever you decide, you have my full support, dude!"

"Um... Wow, I- er.... Thank you."

Meanwhile, back in the breakroom.

Shortly after Al/lan left the room, Gl/ep made his way into the breakroom. P/im smiled and waved frantically to him!

"Good MORNING, Gl/ep! Ready for a brand new work day?"

The small green critter narrowed his eyes suspiciously, making P/im shrink slightly in his seat.

"Wajdhfkrjrurup?... (Why're you acting so skiddish?...)"

"Skiddish? ME?? HA! No no no, I'm not... Th-That's ridiculous!...," he mumbled, his tone growing quieter and quieter with every word.

Sweet fella can't lie for SHIT. And Gl/ep could see right through his attempt as if he were looking through freshly windexed glass. All it took was the unwavering glare to break him.

"Okay, okay.... It's not really MY news to share but... Can you keep a secret, Gl/ep?"

"Æ, (Meh.)" he shrugged.

P/im quickly peered over his shoulder before motioning Gl/ep to come closer. He put his hand up to his ear and whispered. "Al/lan just found out he's expecting!.."

Gl/ep's expression turned from brief confusion to brightened wonderment as he muttered his own version of 'WOW' under his breath

"You're the only one besides me and Mr B/oss that knows right now so try to keep it on the down low, alright?"

"Keep what on the down low??.."

P/im nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a voice behind him. "Ch/arlie! When did you get here?? You startled me!" he yelped shakily, grasping his chair for dear life.

"I literally just got here, man. You didn't hear me come in? The front doorbell went off and everything," he said as he placed his lunch in the fridge. "So what's all this secrecy nonsense you were babbling about before I walked in?"

"Ah... Well..."

"Sjdidjfjoieuehjkipodepibop! (Al/lan's up the duff!)"

"GL/EP!" he semi scolded, earning another half hearted shrug from the smaller critter.

"'Up the duff?'..," Ch/arlie pondered a second, "I've never heard that phrase in my life, 'up the duff,' what's that even mean, dude?"

P/im shot Gl/ep a slightly stern look before sighing. Guess it's only fair to not keep him in the dark, now that basically everyone else knows. "Al/lan's pregnant, Ch/arlie."

Ch/arlie soaked the information in for a hot minute, momentarily wracking his brain to make sure he'd heard that correctly. "Pregnant, huh?... When'd he find that out?"

"I think last night? He'd taken several tests and they came back positive, so he's pretty sure. He must be at least a month or so along! He's even got a little bump starting to show!" P/im's enthusiasm obviously started to swell again when he reached the end of his statement.

"Ah... Cool."

Soooo to recap first reactions:

P/im, ECSTATIC.

Mr B/oss, super cool about it.

Gl/ep, also happy but kinda neutral.

Ch/arlie, mildly traumatized.

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story IV: Price

[Konchar] [Graves] [Gaz] [AO3]

This one is a little different from the other side stories, but I have to say I had a lot of fun diving into the way Price experiences his powers from his POV.

This one is probably the most plot-relevant story, in relation to part 2. Hope you enjoy it!

The human mind is a deceptively complex subject. No person thinks the same way, Johnathan has found - some see images scrolling by, vague hieroglyphs symbolizing thoughts. Others narrate their day-to-day life, to themselves or to an imaginary audience. Once, he came across a woman, who, being deaf from birth, imagined words as hand signs.

He could take decades studying a single person, exploring the connections in their grey matter. If he wasn’t devoted to keeping his hands dirty to keep the world clean, John would’ve considered working in a field more suitable for his powers.

As it was, the people he comes in contact the most become the subjects of his investigations.

The first of his boys was the hardest. John met Simon merely a few months after his own Reaping, while the grasp he had on his powers was far weaker. He remembers the first time he arrived at reading distance from the Ghost; the sharp, fractured mind of the then-Sergeant was like a physical ache in his own, and he had to shamefully retreat to the bathroom to vomit.

They were both newly not-quite-dead, both far too powerful to allow back to the field while they didn’t have a tight leash on their abilities. So, they trained together.

Simon, or Ghost as he insisted on being referred as, really shouldn’t have been cleared to stay in the military. John didn’t have to be a shrink to tell, the choking feeling of the Sergeant’s memories and flashback almost bringing him to his knees countless times.

The kid went through worse than most veterans have. He had the powers to match.

Limbo. An ability never seen before in the entirety of recorded human history, the first revenant of the Void Reaper. The higher brass saw it as a cheat code for warfare.

John saw it as a defence mechanism of a broken man.

Ghost’s mind was his first, and perhaps biggest, hurdle as a commanding officer and as a revenant. It took weeks before he could stand to be in the same room with him for longer than an hour, months for the inky, tar-like miasma coating each of Simon’s thoughts to clear.

Ghost began to trust him. See that John is the closest one to really understand what made him a revenant, the fundamental reason of Limbo’s existence: It was never about being an off switch to hostile soldiers, like General Shepherd treated it.

Limbo was a world in Simon’s full control, a place where for once in his life, he could make sure he wouldn’t be hurt.

But that wouldn’t be apparent, from just watching him on the field, from reading mission reports on his unmatched powers. No other soldier, General, or Spiritulogist saw what John saw.

And while he tried to explain, it all fell on deaf ears.

John carries many regrets in his life, but allowing Limbo to become a hostile realm toward Ghost might be his worst one.

Guilt isn’t an uncommon emotion among soldiers. Some hide it better than others, but Captain Price learned to see through mental walls a long time ago. While he didn’t have the opportunity to peer into many revenant minds, it was even more prevalent in theirs.

That is to say, Kyle Garrick shouldn’t have surprised him.

He met the young Corporal barely two weeks after his death, the sight of crushed bones still terribly fresh in his mind. It didn’t deter Price like Ghost has - he has learned a lot since, lived through worse - and instead intrigued him. Call it morbid curiosity, but the sheer amount of care Kyle has for each and every soldier on his team, dead or alive, was a sign he will go far, in Price’s eyes.

That value, as admirable as it was, was currently eating the young soldier from the inside. Before he could take Gaz under his wing, he was forced to watch from the sidelines as the regret and shame weighed on Kyle’s heart. It gave him a considerable amount of comfort, to watch the man grow when they had the chance to work together.

Despite knowing both of them, Price wasn’t sure how Ghost and Gaz would handle a mission together. He knew they would be as professional as ever, but Ghost’s reputation precedes him by many paces, and it unfairly emphasizes times when he either was out of control due to the unimaginable weight of his past, or under orders.

So it came as quite a shock when Ghost not only complimented the Sergeant, but in his mind thought he would be content with working with Gaz again.

Price was already meaning to get Gaz on the 141, but seeing how well the two mashed with each other made him all the more certain of the need for the taskforce. He initially pitched it to the higher brass with an explanation of the tactical benefits of gathering their strongest revenants and training them together, allowing for the soldiers to explore unique and powerful ways to combine their abilities.

But secretly, it also allows Price to keep an eye on them, be their commanding officer, and make sure nobody will take advantage of those otherworldly powers without taking in consideration that maybe, despite already dying, revenants aren’t any less human than their fellow soldiers.

And for a long time, it was them three, against whatever fate threw at them. The taskforce gained infamy as the only revenant-exclusive squad in the world, mission after mission joining a long line of successes.

It wasn’t all perfect behind closed doors. Ghost’s Limbo continued to be hostile towards its owner, forcing him to work alone. Gaz was still burdened, and while having other revenants around him helped, showing him he’s not alone in his struggles, sometimes it was not enough.

Their team had their flaws, but it was better than any other alternative they had.

Then, Soap found his way in.

Sergeant MacTavish was an odd revenant, even among the unusual. From the first time meeting him, Price noted just how much the Scot seems to repress, even within the comfort of his own mind. Peering in, it was as if thick concrete walls were erected around his thoughts, sectioning off the different parts that made up Soap.

His personal file wasn’t much better - full pages blacked out, especially any pertaining to his Reaping. Price knows the smell of red tape, and Soap’s file was reeking with it.

It brought him years back to Simon, the way both of them appear to be afraid of themselves.

He decided to assign them both to a simple mission. Ghost resisted at first, as he always does when Price tries to get him out of his shell, so to speak. Luckily for him, and unfortunately for Ghost, he has the final word as a Captain.

It ended up a shitshow, because it always does when Price needs it not to. Or, that’s what he thought at first, hearing the initial reports.

Ghost’s demeanor was almost somber when Price asked him about Soap. Regret, and what Price could define as the feeling of missing out, surrounded the Lieutenant’s thoughts. Something about Soap caught his attention.

It took months before an opportunity arose, and an incredible effort from his side to not spill those thoughts accidentally (lest his plans fail, and his boys become disappointed), but Price managed to convince his superiors that the taskforce needs a new member. That member, of course, being Soap.

Price did not foresee just how much that addition will change his team. To say he regrets it would be a lie… but knowing what he knows now, he might’ve considered it longer.

Seeing how happy the three of them are, how things simply click better with Soap around, Price believes he would’ve made the same choice again and again.

Price came across a few revenants in his life, gazed into their thoughts more than once. Each of them were wholly extraordinary. The experience of dying and meeting a Reaper alters one’s mind irrevocably.

Out of all of those revenants, there’s only one that made Johnathan Price feel an innate sort of dread, one whose thoughts were disturbing enough to keep him awake at night for weeks after their short meeting. One that forced his own to a breaking point, made Price physically hear the creaking of his crumbling brain attempting to process what it is seeing.

That mind being, Vladimir Makarov’s.

John’s Reaper isn’t of the chatty kind, the one that tries to control its revenants with an iron fist. For the most part, it let him do as he pleases, occasionally warning him from this mission or another.

The sudden shift between their world and his Reaper’s realm never ceases to send a bolt of shock through him. He has observed minds when they were brought to distant places beyond their understanding. It made his eyes bleed.

This one is no different.

“R-Reaper. To what do I owe the honors?” John asks, wincing as a headache attacks him, brain overstimulated by the shifting shapes around him, concepts he has no words for appearing and disappearing with a blink.

“You are to be sent on a mission in a few hours.” the Reaper responds, a wild mass of flashing lights, like synapses of a starless sky. Price’s gift allows him to see the hidden messages between the words.

“Interest. Warning. Fear.”

…Fear…?

What… could make his Reaper… afraid?

The ancient voice continues, “You will be asked to kill a man. A revenant.”

“Danger. Blood. Enemy.”

John’s brows scrunch in confusion, “Reaper-?”

“You cannot kill that revenant. Under orders of Fate, you will not kill that revenant.”

“Command. Terror. Fate.”

John opens his mouth, to ask one of the billion questions swirling in his mind, but the synapses flash, his body gets the feeling of falling, and-

John gasps, eyes rapidly taking in his surroundings. Back in his office, kicked out of the Reaper realm before he could let out a peep. He sighs, wiping sweat from his brow, nape still tingling with the wrongness of his Reaper’s messages.

Something is scaring his Reaper to obey… ‘Fate’. John’s not sure what exactly that is, but he knows who will.

He’s about to punch in the number of the resident Spiritulogist on base, when a knock sounds on his door. “Open!” He calls loudly, his mind already supplying him with the orders the rookie is about to tell him.

They have a mission lined up for him, and he’s to be debriefed immediately. The rookie mumbles as such, and John waves him off.

His stomach churns in a way it hasn’t for a very long time.

“Bravo 0-6, what’s your status?”

Price brings a hand up to his comms, “solid, in position, no sign of the target.”

The watcher copies his response, clicking off channel. John swallows thickly, adjusting the hold on his sniper. On paper, this mission should be simple - a man named Andrei Nolan has been observed to be making moves in favor of several international criminal rings. The SAS needs him dead, and Price is here to make sure of that.

The intel suggested a possibility of the man being a revenant, but with no confirmed Reaper, the information doesn’t help him in the slightest.

The port he’s overlooking is said to be housing missiles in some of its shipment containers. Nolan will arrive to buy them from a local arms dealer. They would’ve not sent someone like Price usually, but not only did Nolan evade capture several times, he recently ramped up his activity, pointing to a new employer.

Any other day, Price would’ve killed him with no hesitation. Today, however, the words of his Reaper echo within his mind, dread spreading through his synapses, the emotions that coursed through the interdimensional being now flowing through him.

Reapers don’t lie, and his certainly doesn’t mince words. If it didn’t see a reason to warn John, it wouldn’t have.

There wasn’t enough time to explain that to his superiors, though. Humans don’t understand the connection Reapers and revenants have, hell, they barely understand Reapers as a concept, let alone their intricate oddities.

He inhales deeply. John hopes he’s close enough to read Nolan, when he finally shows up. Perhaps the man’s mind might have a clue as to why his Reaper needs him to stay alive.

And as if his thoughts have been heard, Andrei Nolan shows his face. Or… is that Nolan? The description given in the brief fits him, black hair, brown eyes, Eastern European man in his 30s, wearing a black suit and a red tie. But…

His left eye is closed, lower lid pink like it’s infected, and Price can’t tell from the distance, but… there seems to be a red line, almost like a tear, drawn down his cheek.

Price frowns, adjusting the zoom on his scope, analyzing the face as much as he can while the man moves. The seller arrived already, and is now showing “Nolan” the goods, but he doesn’t pay mind to him. The left eye seemingly confirms the revenant status, something about it is unsettling in a Reaper’s way, but if that’s the case, wouldn’t the intel note that?

“0-6 to Watcher.” Price mutters, eyes not straying from the supposed target, “I’ve got eyes on a man fitting the description, but something doesn’t line up.”

“This is Watcher, what is the problem, Lieutenant?”

“His left eye is shut, red marking down his left cheek. Sign of a revenant, don’t know who’s.”

The line goes quiet for a few beats, “...standby, 0-6.”

The crease between his brows deepens, John sighs and waits. The alleged Nolan and the seller are still discussing something, probably pertaining to the deal.

After a few long minutes, his radio crackles, “Watcher to 0-6, we’ve consulted Dr. Novikov.”

The head Spiritulogist of the SAS regiment. If there’s any non-revenant he could trust on such matters, it’s him, “what did he say?”

“No PID. Nolan has not been documented to have markings like the ones you’ve described, and they’re impossible to acquire after Reaping.”

“...So we don’t know who this man is?”

“Negative.”

Price shuts his comms for a moment to curse. He radios back in, “Watcher, requesting permission to move closer to target.”

“Explain your reasoning, 0-6”

“I want to use my powers on him. Check his thoughts, might give us an ID.”

The Watcher’s voice becomes muffled as they talk to another person in the room, “granted. Make sure to not be seen, Price.”

“Copy.” he answers, adding under his breath, “not a bloody rookie, am I…”

He leaves the sniper on the hill he previously perched on, preferring to go as light as possible. The target and the seller have moved since the conversation with Watcher, opening a shipment container and examining its contents. With their backs towards him, Price weaves between containers, climbing up a few to get a better view of the guards.

His range on complete strangers is shite as ever, a disadvantage he can’t train out of him. John stays low, sticking to the sharp shadows cast by the steel boxes, creeping closer and closer to the target.

The target is still focused on the illegal missiles, and he needs to step just a few more meters to get into range-

The man sharply turns, his eye locking with Price’s. A chill goes down his spine, and he freezes in place. He couldn’t have noticed him.

Price’s muscles don’t dare move, thoughts both reeling and dead still, as the man raises a hand, and slowly, slowly peels his left eyelid up.

The red line on his cheek continues up into the eye whites, going all the way into his disturbingly crimson pupil.

The seller stares at the target, expression confused when he is ignored. The target steps forward, and John has to force his legs to stay put and not run, because every single cell in his body screams of danger.

“Danger. Blood. Enemy.”

The target enters his range, and smiles. But why would he smile? He has no reason to, because he doesn’t know that Price is a Revenant of the Mind, doesn’t know the limits of his powers.

He doesn’t. He can’t.

And yet when their thoughts link, the first words he can farce are…

“Johnathan Price… just on time.”

John’s thoughts escape his mind before he can get a semblance of control on them, questions like “you shouldn’t know my name, how do you know my name?!” and “who are you, what Reaper fucking reaped you?”

To that, the target smiles with perfect, unnaturally white teeth, “you should know by now, people like me and you operate in realms considered impossible by most, Lieutenant.”

Price grinds his teeth, forcibly pulling his mind back, taking control of his powers, of what the target sees, “you’re not Andrei Nolan, are you?”

The Target chuckles, “you’re far more pathetic than I expected.” the image in his mind is not of Price, but of the entire SAS. “No, I’m not Nolan. I’ll let you know my true name, because rest assured, Johnathan, we will meet again.”

Price scoffs incredulously. There’s no doubt in the revenant’s mind, despite stating something he couldn’t possibly know.

“You do not believe me.”

“I’ve read enough minds to know an overconfident one by now, mate.” Price glares.

The revenant’s grin widens, peculiarly pleased. “It appears that I need to provide evidence for my claims. Very well.” he sweeps two fingers on the red marking on his face, a sort of thread materializing between them. Price’s breathing picks up, something in the revenant’s mind poking at his, a red haze enveloping his thoughts.

He takes half a step back, eyes wide and staring at the thread hanging from the revenant’s fingers.

“I can promise you, Lieutenant, you will not stay in disbelief for much longer.”

The thread shoots forward in a sudden rush, Price stumbling back, but no man or revenant could escape those unnatural strings.

The moment it wraps around his throat, images begin flashing in his mind.

A burning city, smell of flesh overwhelming his senses.

Emptiness. Living statues, covered in darkness.

Endless skies, clouds and stars, moon and sun, falling and falling and falling.

Piles of broken bodies, some familiar and others not, all far too young to be dead.

A photo passed towards him, of the very revenant that is invading his mind. The smell of alcohol burns at his nose.

Realms beyond his own, a fabric weaved with crimson strings. Hands, knitting it together. Three eyes, identical to the revenant’s.

Words. 

“Fate”

“Unescapable. Indestructible. Unchangeable.”

“Nothing but a puppet on red strings.”

A cruel smile, human teeth grafted onto the blood-red skin of a Reaper. Suffocating satisfaction, unfathomable knowledge, power great enough to bend Reaper will.

“Under orders of Fate, you will not kill that revenant.”

“The Revenant of Fate.”

“Vladimir Makarov.”

The string snaps.

Price finds himself on all fours, shaking. The screaming around him doesn’t die down, and it takes him minutes to realize it comes from his mouth. Little red tears drip between his hands, his eyes crying blood.

The revenant - Makarov - laughs. In his thoughts, the sound bouncing in his cranium, unescapable.

“When I tell you we will meet again, Johnathan, I do not lie.” Makarov says, condescending. “But for now, our business is done.”

He feels Makarov leave his range, not before he says, “you should consider yourself lucky, Lieutenant Price. Not many receive this gift, to see their own fate. Until next time.”

John doesn’t dare lift his gaze for what feels like hours, the shaking in his limbs taking long minutes to subside. Eventually, the dread in his gut lowers enough for him to look up.

The seller’s body lays dead in front of him, shipping containers still full to the brim with missiles. Makarov didn’t come for them.

His only goal was Price.

“This is Bravo 0-6 to Watcher, how copy?”

“...Price?! We’ve been trying to contact you for hours, where have you-”

“Target was not Nolan. He wasn't after the missiles, either.”

“Lieutenant-”

“What do we know about the Reaper of Fate?”

[lunarharp]

you can now buy my little orufrey zine i made!

a 36 page, b&w a5 amateur zine made up of orufrey art i've drawn this year so far. alone is £6 + shipping and they can also come with a mini print add-on, a 4x6 photo print for £8.50 total.

the first 6 orders will come with a free official bromide :)

[sheila--e]

feliz dia de la primavera (atrasado)

[jrueships]

guess whos not going in at all this week, actually

[judyalvqrez]

Finally played Alan Wake and I’m already spiraling like how did people wait 13 years to get answers holy shit

[kagooleo]

in the final stages of the semester atm (hoogh) but i’m thinking of reworking/adjusting my comms once i get past finals week :1c

i’ve had a couple ideas in mind but unsure of execution so they’ll be discounted for being experimental, but i’m up for any suggestions to note down for anyone interested!

[kittykatinabag]

Bruh the "return-to-career-path-program" position I've been getting stringed along for like 2 months now through interviews and multi-week ghostings finally admitted that they can't find a good match for me in their program.

This is readily apparent to me by the second interview with the actual guy who would have been my boss when I asked him about what would happen if there hypothetically wouldn't be enough billable work and he did not have an answer for me.

And the recruiter lady had the gall to lie and say the interview I had went "very well" and that the guy I was talking to "very much enjoyed meeting me"

lol. lmao even.

Yeah, never applying for consulting jobs again.

[danwhobrowses]

Okay cool so this is was me all of this and last week fretting years off my life about the episode and I guess it's gonna be me next week fretting years off my life about next episode coolcoolcoolcool