#oh and two of my 4 door handles are broken off

[beskad]

my car is starting to actually fall apart, lowkey

[alastorslilghost]

His loss and ruin.

Angel x sibling reader

๑ | synopsis: after a few years in hell, angel met a certain demon that he thought he could actually trust. Angel did actually fell for him, sadly, kindness nor love was a thing in hell, so he became more ruined and broken. Until a certain gambling demon came for his rescue.

๑ | tw : cursing, panick attack, abuse will be mentioned, blood, gore, death will be also be mentioned.

๑ | a/n : a part two from " my little sunshine " ig? HAHA I just watched HH ep 4 or 5 just right now and it just booster my motivation to write a second part of that one HEHE hope y'all liked it! ~

" My little sunshine "

Master list

After the chaos occured on Valentino's studio and his very first heated argument with husk, angel ran off to a strip club to blow off some steam, but Satan must be hating on him somehow to bring husk to his tail and be his 'little-shining-armor' and caused more chaos.

" husk, what the actual fuck you are doin' here? " angel groaned as he struggled against his hold.

" let go off me! " he tried to pulled his arms back but fails miserably when husk tightened his hold to him and proceeds to push him away from the club.

" no, I'm takin' you back to the hotel. " husks gruff voice grumbled behind him.

" gett- off! " he groaned as he kicked his legs back trying to push him away to his relief, husk finally let go of his arms. Angel dusted off non-existent dust off of himself as husker gave him a frustrated look.

" that fucker put somethin' on yer drink. " angel glared at him.

" you don't think I can't tell when someone spikes my drink?! " he snapped as he run his fingers to his hair " I do this all fuckin' time! " he continues as husk gave him a look of disbelief.

" you just let people drug you all the time? "

More anger and frustration bubbled to angels chest, the bottle is in the verge of exploding.

Angel snapped his body to husks direction as his hands were in front of him, indicating his distress and frustrations.

" you think I ask for it? ! " he snapped, catching husk off guard. " I don't ask any of this shit! "His hands flew above from his head as more of his bottled emotions pour out.

" I didn't ask to be this way. " he turned back to him as husk stared at him.

" I didn't ask for you Charlie to save me, " he pointed at Huskers chest as he stepped away.

" I didn't asked for you to save me. " he pointed more to his chest, there nose were barely touching.

" I can handle myself. " he huffed pointing at himself " really? Because I just see someone self-distructing. " husked snapped back pointing back at angel's chest which angel leaned away. Husker pauses before continuing.

" it's seems like-- " just turned away " I don't know.. " he shook his head. Husker turned back again to face angel as he shrugged awkwardly " it seems like you need a bartender to talk too. " angel laughed at he placed his hand to hide forehead.

" oh, so— " he flew his hands again to his side as he chuckled. " now you're going to act like you give shit about me? " he places one of his hand to his hip.

" you think after how you treated me—" he quirkee a brow a him, pointing at him " I'm going to open up to you? Please. " he huffed as he opens his arms again dramatically as he turned away ready to walk out of this, and this conversation before he breaks more.

" maybe I would treat you better if you you were real, " more anger filled angels nerves as unwanted memories flew back to his mind. From the start where he was alive. Where he was still with you.

Anthony came back home late again with more bruises on his neck, his body was swaying as he stumbled to his steps when his eyes landed on you.

You were seated in front of the door with your arms and legs crossed.

He wondered, why we're yous till awake.

" anth. "

Anthonh breath out before cracking up a wobbly smile as he leaves ok the door frame " heya sunshine. " he shot and finger guns at you, but your expression remains the same and clearly unfazed.

He gulped, " why- why are you still awake? It's in the middle of the night.. " he stumbled up on his step as he walked towards your direction.

" oh I don't know, maybe because I was waiting for my idiot, stupid of a brother to come home and actually eat with me in the nights and sleep together and cuddle like he promised? " you quirked a brow at him as you stand up from your seat.

He gulped once again, " oooh.. " he breathe to his teeth as he sighed and gave you an apologetic look. " I'm sorry sunshine.. For- not being able to eat dinner with you.. It's just- "

" work has been very tougher lately and you/i can't afford to leave early. " you rolled your eyes, perfectly synchronizing with him which he gave you a shock look before letting out a breathless laugh.

" well- wow. " he coughed out.

" anth.. " you sighed frustratedly as you walked towards him " I know you, we're literally siblings. I know you from head to toe and you're like an open book to me. "

You stared up at him with a frown, he looked completely nervous, making you sigh as he averted eye contact again.

" I know when soemthin's up or not, and I can tell that work has not been only tough, but rough for ya too. And don't think I can't see the bruises anth, I can literally see the dried blood on 'yer nose. " you squinted an eye at him which he flinched when you noticed this.

He sighed as he slumped before chuckling.

" I just can't hide anythin' from ya, aight sunshine? "He cocked his head to the side.

" bitch, I've been with your for years, what did ya expect? " you chuckled when you felt a stinging pain on your forehead.

" hey! Language. " he pouted.

" Italian and english? " you sarcastically replied.

" Gesù Cristo, sei una minaccia, " he chuckled as he shook his head ruffling your hair.

" hey! Watch it! I just groomed that! " you groaned. But giggling afterwards, he too started to chuckle as the both of you shared a heart laugh.

Once the both of you calmed down, a soft from were on your face again as you sighed.

" I just don't want'cha to hide things from me anth.. You've been there for me ,and I wanna be there for ya too, so please just cut the act ok? " you dropped your head softly to his chest as you lazily hang your arms around his waist.

" I don't want to see you silently suffer so please, " you tilted your head to meet his troubled face.

" don't be afraid to lend me 'yer troubles ok? "

Angel stared at you for a moment before sighing as he hugged you with his other hand on your head.

" what can I do? I can't say no ta that eyes sugar. " he softly laughed as you smiled brightly at him.

" good, now let's eat! "

Angel felt tears swelled up upon his eyes at the memory as his heart pounded, he the lump of his throat thickens as he listened more to husk.

" and not some bullshit version of yourself, ways pushin' my boundaries. " husks scoffed as he watched angel walked away from him. This grew more frustration for husk.

" lemme tell ya, nobody in that hotel cares who you are! " he snapped as he swung his hand to his side. " how famous, how hot. "

" so you might as well just cut the act. " angel stopped from his tracks. With that single sentence, he finally snapped.

" anth.. We talked a bout this, I told you to not be afraid of lending me your troubles. If I were to loose my life just ta have you to open up then sure I'd fuckin' bet my life on that. " you sighed dramatically as angel shot you a look for swearing but you ignored it " like I've said, I've been with you for years, I can literally see through that mask that you're in trouble. So please just drop the act, ok? "

Your voice rang onto his mind as his mind finally went blank, emotions finally exploding.

" IT'S NOT AN ACT! " he snapped turning around to face husk again, tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. Husk was once again, shocked as he finally see his walls breaking down.

" it's who I need to be.. " he hugged himself as he averted his eyes.

" and this— " his hand flew above his head " this is my escape " escape from everything,escape from val, escape from the memory,the memory of you dying into his arms. He smiled but it was strained and tensed.

" where I can forget about it all! " he turned again stumbling as he leaned into the clubs wall for support. An image of you dead in his arms flashed into his mind again.

" h-how much I hate-! " himself, he hated himself for for not being able to save you from that night. " everything! " he continued.

" a place where I can get high, and not have to think how much it hurts. " he clutched his chest. He wondered, what would you think if you saw him now, would you still care for him? Love him? Would you still see him as an older brother?

" and maybe.. " he pushes himself off of the wall as he places his hands on the side of his head as he looked down on his foot. " I can ruin myself enough in the process, " his hands slowly went limp to his side.

" if I end up broken, I won't be his favorite you any more and.. I wont have to remember that fuckin' night where she died right into my arms. " his voice shook as he shook his head trying to shove away the memory of you slowly going limp into his arms.

Angel sat on the side walk, hugging his legs into his chest.

" and maybe he'll let me go.. And maybe.. And just maybe.. I might get actually redeemed and see her again. "

Husk looked down at the spider demon sadly, he wondered who's she he was talking about. But he figured that it must be someone from the day he was life, deciding not to push it, husk sat down beside him.

Husk sighed heavily as he started, " I was an overload once you know." Husk started. Angel turned his head to look at him to see if he was lying.

Husk met his eyes before smiling awkwardly.

" yeah.. And uh.. " he trailed " it's was nice to have that power, but when your dealing with souls, while Also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. And loosing a few more hands can be more than a little dangerous, so when you're down on you luck, you turn into anything to..keep you afloa even making deals yourself. So I know what is like to.. Regret the choices made and.. " he pauses for long before starting again. " knowin' ya can't take it back. " he finishes, a thickening silent envelopes them before angel broke it.

" I..." He trailed as he stared at the puddle infront of him " had a little sister. " husk perked up at the mention of this before turning to look at angel,

' so that was the "she" he was talking about. ' husk thought. He remains silent and listened further.

" she was my everything, my source of light, my little sunshine. " angel smiled sadly, husks eyes widened a little to see him talking so sweety about someone, but it was a relative anyways so of course he'd talk sweetly about it. But it was new to see angel dust being like that.

" our parents were never good, so we eventually ran away from home once I turned 18,she was 16 back then. " he pauses before continuing " her name is Y/N, Y/N is.. Someone ya should not mess with, the girl was like a tiger on loose when mad. " he chuckled dryly " but overall that chaotic personality, she was the sweetest sugar you'd eva' picked, a delicate little flower. " he sighed as he stared into the distance.

" back then, I was very secretive, hidin' my outside doins from her, comin' home late and neva' eaten dinners with her, no cuddles night and such... " he sighed before continuing " she confronted me once about that, but.. I choose to hide things from her again, till one night. I caught myself in a bad deal and stole bunch'a drugs and money.. And that stupidity of mine caused her life. " he tests finally pour into his eyes as he let out a little sob.

" I watched-... Husk i watched her.. Died right in my eyes! " he panted as he turned to the feline who had his eyes wide at the information he was getting. " and.. Right into my arms. " angel hugged himself tighter.

" so that's why.. I did everything.. Everything to ruin myself more.. Just to get that wipe off of my mind, to forget- her hands slowly let go of my hand.. Her eyes running out of life.. That- little sad smile she held even dying. " he cried, shoulders were shaking as he sobbed, husk sighed as he placed a hand ok angels shoulder and pats it.

" everyday.. Everytime, I regretted not coming home early, I regretted not spending enough time with her, I regretted for not listenin' to her.. If I could turn back the time.. If I had a second chance to be with her.. I'll.. I'll be a better brother this time. " he sobbed.

Husk was silent, trying to look a better words to ease up the spider demon, he let out a heavy sigh before smiling lightly.

" well , I never known the gal but.. I'm sure she forgives ya. " he started as he watched angel tears up.

" you did fucked up big time but.. " he pauses as he stand up and walked in front of angel.

" I'm sure the gal still see's you the bestest brother she eva' had. You did took care of her once the both of ya left yer parents house, so the little gal must be waitin for ya up there. " husk smiled at him before holding out his hand, angel smiles before wiping off his tears and accepted his hands pulling himself up.

"... Thanks.. For.. Listening. " angel awkwardly rubbed his arms as husk shrugs.

" told ya you could need a bartender to talk. " the both of them chuckled when the clubs door busted open and saw them.

" THERE THEY ARE, FUCKING GET THEM! "

I'm the heavens, on your room, your hands fiddled with the necklace on your neck as you stared off into the distance.

Suddenly your nose itch making you sneeze, you rubbed your nose as you sniffle groaning a bit.

" to who ever the fuck talkin about me, I hope you bit your tongue. " you groaned.

After the little massacre happened, angel and husker were covered in blood as the two happily walked their way back on the hotel when angel suddenly bit his tongue.

" OW- FUCK-"

[1-800marvelqueen]

5:45

Frank Castle (Peter Castiglione x reader)

Part One

WC : 2.5K

SW : No usage of"Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Reader is gender neutral! but is implied to be AFAB. Mentions of blood, knives, stab wounds, etc. Frank and the reader do some smooching and some snuggling because he so cute and I just wanna put him in my pocket and carry him around.

If there's any more warnings to be added let me know!

Ths is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

Pete’s apartment is on a side of town you’d never been to. A shifty looking building with no front entrance, only a back door. You can’t really make anything out, your body slowly shutting down, your vision blurry, lids heavy. But you can briefly make out the fact that Pete removes one hand from holding you to wrench the building door open. It feels as if all the blood that isn’t pouring out of the stab wound in your side floods to your face. Literally on the verge of passing out from blood loss and you can only focus on his muscles, good going, you think to yourself. 

You’re snapped out of your drooling reverie when Pete begins the ascent up the stairs. He tightens his grip on you, apologising profusely at the sound of your quiet pained whimpers, briefly explaining that the place had no elevator- it had been broken for years. He once again removes one hand from you to dig into his pocket grabbing a singular key to unlock his door. He quickly rushes you to this bed, placing you down gently. He glides his palm along your forehead as he immediately rushes off to some other part of the house. 

Once again your mind is filled by Pete. Bleeding out or no, you can’t help but focus on the way the sheets are absolutely doused in his smell. Looking around you take in the small apartment -- if you could even call it that. The room is bare, as are the walls. The paint is tan colored. The bed he placed you on is small, next to it is a simple white night table. Upon the table is a stack of books, which makes you smile, there's a lamp, and a propped up photo, 4 white lines running through it, showing all the times it had been folded and unfolded. The corners are crinkled and dirty, and in the photo is a gorgeous woman and two children. 

Oh.

“That’s Maria.” You gasp, whipping your head around. You hadn’t even noticed that Pete had come back. He places a hand against your sternum, thumb rubbing in a soothing manner. He takes a pair of scissors and begins cutting your shirt from the bottom of your stab wound to the edge of the fabric, gently peeling it from around the area and lifting it up to rest around the bottom of your ribcage. He says nothing else as he gently rubs the skin with an alcohol soaked cloth, gently avoiding the knife. The hand holding you down becomes heavier as he applies more pressure to keep you from squirming. 

When he’s done with that he reaches down and grabs a thick leather belt from the rest of his supplies. He stands only to replace his hand with his knee, holding you down. He goes to hold the belt in front of your mouth, uttering a quiet “you’re gonna wanna bite down on this.” You’re confused as to why he’s got his knee on you, pressing down with all his body weight. Your confusion soon becomes painful understanding as he grabs the handle of the knife and slowly pulls it out. Your screams are muffled, teeth clamping down so hard on the leather you think they’ll snap right out of your mouth. Your hearing goes fuzzy, a dull ringing beginning to take its place. You can briefly make out Pete’s praise and whispers of how well you’re doing, that it’ll all be over soon. But you hardly understand him, your head spins, the ringing picks up full force and the world goes dark. 

Everything hurts. That’s the first thought that comes to your mind when you wake up. Your whole midriff hurts. Eyes heavy, lids struggling to open. You make the mistake of trying to sit up, only partially getting up before the pain overtakes you. Letting out a loud yelp, eyes snapping open at the sudden burst that fills every nerve of your body. Tears well in your eyes, immediately spilling out the corners. A hand slides to the small of your back, another to the soft bit of your stomach. “Easy sweetheart, easy. I got you baby, don’t worry I got you.” Eyes snapping to your right to see Pete, body immediately going lax. “Pete?” voice wavering as more tears spill out. “Yeah sweetheart it’s me. Don’t move, I don’t want you to pull your stitches.” Your back makes contact with the bed again, pillow fluffed and plush under your head. One of his hands goes to your head, palm smoothing down on your forehead, pushing hair out of your eyes. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Voice quiet and… scared? “Yes,” letting out a cough, your voice rough and scratchy, “The man from the diner, he got me. You got him.” The corner of one side of his mouth pulls up, before it drops down. He turns extremely serious in a split second, eyes losing any sort of emotion in them. He goes cold. “Yeah. I got him.” Eyes glancing away from you, his head turning, looking at the walls, the floor, the window, avoiding looking at you at all. 

“Pete?” A hand placed on his, you see him physically tense up at your touch, causing you to let go, not wanting to disturb him. He turns his head back towards you, looking in a longing manner at your hand that's now resting back at your side. He gives you a long look before he spins around, sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing you. “Petey are you okay?” His head goes down, shaking. You’re worried you’ve done something wrong, why is he shaking his head? 

“It’s Frank.” 

“What?” 

“My name’s not Pete, it’s Frank.”

~

This was such a bad idea. He’d be putting you in so much danger by telling you who he really was. But then again he had already put you in enough danger when he befriended you. But you deserved to know, he had literally killed a man in front of you less than 2 hours ago. He could still feel the fear in his system, the panic, the thought that you could’ve been gone, ripped from his world in a split second. He doesn’t realise that his eyes are welling up with tears, his hands beginning to shake. 

“What do you mean?” your voice shaking, he can hear you shuffle in the sheets, the apprehension and confusion in your tone. He turns to make sure you haven’t made any drastic moves, that you haven’t hurt yourself further. When he looks at you there’s a tenseness in your bones, a crease between your brows, and a certain look of fear in your eyes. 

This was a bad idea.

“My name isn’t Pete, my name is Frank Castle.” He watches the gears turn in your head as you connect the pieces. He knows you’ve put it together when your eyes widen a fraction, eyebrows from furrowed to raised in shock, your body becomes even more impossibly stiff. “The Punisher.” you whisper, eyes turning to make contact with his own, he can only muster a nod of the head. Licking his lips, he opens his mouth as if to say something, but Frank seems to fall short on words. 

He starts to feel panic swell in his chest, the idea of you being afraid of him is something that doesn’t settle right. He scrambles for words, anything to say to you to make you not afraid of him.

“I-I never did anything to anyone that didn’t deserve it. Everyone I killed was a piece of shit. I would never do anything to hurt good people, t-to hurt you.” His voice is but a whisper, hoarse, he can feel himself choking up, that impenetrable wall that he had built was crumbling. He whispers your name, “I would never hurt you. Ever.” 

“I know.”

Frank can feel the weight of the world fall off his shoulders, even more so when you prove your words by placing your hand on top of his and squeeze. “I know Pe- Frank. I trust you.” He hadn’t realised that any tears had slipped from his eyes until your hand briefly left his own to brush against his cheek, wiping the salty drop away. You trusted him.

What more could he ask for?

~

It was shocking. To find out the man you had been pining after for months was the Punisher, New Yorks’ most lethal man. Shocking, but not surprising. 

Pete-- Frank, had always had the characterization of a dangerous man. At first glance he was an ordinary man. Quiet, respectful, he worked long hours doing construction, he ate the same thing every time he came into the diner. But that was at first glance. You knew him-- to some level, at least. He had that look in his eyes. A caged predator prowling, waiting for someone to forget to lock the door. It had always been there, lurking, waiting. It was second nature to him, pain was his career, in the military, and as Hell's Kitchen’s scariest vigilante. 

You honestly feel sort of stupid, for not realising sooner who he was. You remember when he was in court, the trial of the century. You remember that you had honestly felt sympathy for him, he'd only been avenging the deaths of his wife, maria, and his children. He had never killed anyone that didn’t deserve it. 

And you had never been afraid of him anyways. Quite the opposite really, the massive crush you’ve harboured for the man since the first time he invited you to sit at his table with him. 

You’d fallen for Pete, but you could see yourself falling for Frank too. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Frank squeezed your hand. His eyes soft and his lips in a soft smile. You feel yourself giving him a soft smile too, “Thank you Frank. For everything. Truly.” Letting go of his hand so you can hold both arms out as much as you can, muscles still weak. He moves slowly, legs straddling yours. One arm slowly weasels its way behind your back, the other gently cradling the back of your neck. He gently moves you into a sitting position. You find it doesn’t hurt as much when he gently lifts you up, the precise and calculated movements hurting less than when you try to push yourself up earlier. 

When you’re fully sat up, he accepts your invitation for a hug. One arm coming around your shoulders while the other gently cradles your head against his collarbone. “You really had me worried sweetheart. I was really afraid you weren’t gonna wake up. Your pulse got so weak, I just…” His words fade off as his fingers card through your hair. You snuggle closer to him, arm trying to wrap around his waist with as much energy you could muster. “I’m sorry for worrying you Frankie.” He squeezes you a little, pulling your head away from his body.

He says no words, the creases and hard lines in his face smoothing out. Frown going away. His face becomes soft, the corners of his lips pulling up a little bit. “You ain’t got nothin’ to be apologising for baby. None of this is your fault.” his face moves closer and closer to yours, his arm around your shoulders subconsciously tightening around your shoulders, pulling you closer to himself. His eyes glance down to your lips, “Nothing at all.” 

It’s like fireworks going off when his lips fall upon yours. You can’t help the slight gasp that falls from you at the feeling. His lips are chapped, yet his kiss is soft. It’s barely a featherlight pressure upon your lips, his hesitancy to kiss you properly holding him back. It’s only when you weakly put your hand up to his cheek and try to push closer does he put more force behind the kiss. A low groan rumbles out of his chest as he presses his lips harder against yours, the hand cradling the back of your head moves to entangle itself in your hair. 

It’s when your hand slides off his cheek, nail gently scraping across his beard does he let out a very loud, strangled, groan. He pulls away from the kiss, his breathing heavy, warm puffs hitting across your face. “We gotta stop before I get too worked up sweetheart.” Dropping his head so it bumps against yours lightly. Frank places a kiss on your temple before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, the coarse hairs of his beard rubbing against the sensitive skin. 

You can’t form any words, both of your hands coming up to hold the back of his neck, brushing all the hair off his nape, fingers gently playing with the long strands.

“You’re a really good kisser Frankie.”

His body shakes with the force of the laugh that comes out of him. Frank pulls back from your shoulder, mouth in a full smile, eyes crinkled in the corners. You can’t help but think of how pretty he looks like this. He looks so normal like this, so carefree, like he just left everything that makes him who he is at the front door when he walked in. 

You can’t help the admiring and lovesick tone in your voice when you say “You’re so pretty,” bringing your right hand down and around to brush against the crinkle next to his left eye, down to the smile lines just barely visible through his beard. 

Frank slowly lowers you back down against the pillows before taking a spot next to you. He lays on his side facing you, half of his body on the edge of the small bed to give you more space. His left arm lays under his head, his right arm gently places itself along your midriff in a protective position. Being extremely mindful of your stitched up wound. 

He continues to look at you with that crinkled-eye, dazed smile on his face. “You’re even prettier, sweetheart. Now get some sleep, you’ll need rest to get better.” You say nothing, simply nodding your head in agreement. Right hand going to the side to grab the bottom of his shirt, gently tugging on it. He takes the hint and with extreme caution, scoots closer to you, his front almost pressed completely against your side. 

He moves his left arm out from under his head to lie under yours, pressing you snuggly against him. With your right ear pressed to his chest you can hear his heartbeat, even and strong, reverberating in your mind. You find that the warmth radiating off his body makes you extremely sleepy, eyes getting heavy, lids slowly slipping closed. Before you drift off to sleep you make sure you tell Frank how appreciative you are one last time. 

You tilt your head to look at him, and just over his shoulder you can make out the beginning of the sunrise slipping through his thin-curtained window. “Thank you for saving me, Frankie.” Eyes closing all the way as you fall asleep.

A gentle kiss placed against your hairline, “Anytime, sweetheart.”

~

Originally posted July 8th, 2022.

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

OoTP, Chapter 4 - Choosing Sides

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: vague hints at abusive parents (I mean it's Lucius Malfoy)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4291

After Herbology, you tried to catch Draco on his way out.  He seemed preoccupied, and his friends trailed behind him, guffawing over some trinket they tossed back and forth, but he ignored them and you.  They turned away from the castle and you gave up; it wasn’t worth it being late to Potions.

Perhaps you could write him a letter and send it in the post, you thought, absentmindedly stirring the contents of your cauldron.  That should be discreet enough.  It still irked you that you couldn’t just talk to him like a person, but in all truth, you didn’t really want people knowing you were associating with each other either.  He had something of a reputation.

Though by the end of Double Potions you had formulated a plan, as you left the classroom you caught a glimpse of that unmistakable silver hair and green robes turning a corner down the corridor.  You pretended to have left your quill behind, and peeled off from your friends and the stream of students heading to lunch.  The soft pattering of your shoes on the cold stone floor must’ve given you away, for when you turned that same corner, Draco was leaning against the wall, arms folded, waiting for you.

“Why are you following me?”  He looked somewhat harried; his hair hung slightly awry, and the shirt under his sweater vest was uncharacteristically wrinkled.

You stopped, confused.  “I wanted to talk without having to send you a notarized letter.”  His eyes narrowed.  “I had just forgotten that this weekend was Hogsmeade, and I wondered if we could push our meeting to Sunday.”

“Oh.  Sure that’s fine.”  He paused, weighing his words.  “I actually, uh, I’ve changed my mind.  I’ve decided I’d like to work for the Ministry, so I won’t need Herbology after all, so don’t worry about it.”

“What are you talking about?  Is this because I want to reschedule?”

“Don’t be daft,” he snapped.  “I can’t really picture myself doing something so undignified, working for goblins.  The Ministry will be a much better fit for someone of my family’s standing.”

“I see,” you said quietly, taken aback by the venom in his words.

Draco continued quickly, “It’s just that I’ll have more important, more relevant things to focus on, and-and-and you probably do too.”

You nodded curtly, “We agreed we wouldn’t be friends.  You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”  You paused before turning on your heel, “Good luck.”

Saturday morning came early, Wilbur purring on your chest with his wet nose sniffing at your closed eyes.

“Cat, one day you’re going to startle me so much I throw you off this bed, and it’ll be no one’s fault but yours.”  He sat up, tail curled regally around him, waiting.  “I can’t give you treats if you’re on top of me.  Yes, yes I know.”  You threw back the bed curtains and glanced at the enchanted windows.  It was still somehow before dawn; everyone else was still asleep.  You tsked at Wilbur, setting two treats beside him on your bed, and dressed quietly.  You eased your broom out from under your bed and slunk out of your dormitory, then through the round painting door.

Almost a full week into October, the pre-dawn air was bracing as it whipped around you and your broom.  The Quidditch pitch was deserted, thankfully, as it was the only area that allowed unsupervised flying on the whole grounds.  There was nothing you wanted more than to fly through the trees and over the lake, but if anyone caught you they’d confiscate the broom and dock enough points to earn side-eyes until Christmas.  So instead, you circled the pitch as fast as you could go, ignoring the stiff chill in your fingers as they gripped the broom handle. Patches of muddy ground spun by faster and faster until the whole world seemed brown.

“Y/N?”  Your concentration broken, you yelped and had to pull up hard to keep yourself from ramming into a tower.  On the ground, Yvette stood at the ready, broom in one hand and quaffle tucked neatly under the other arm.  She kicked off and met you in the air.  “Something you wanna talk about?”

“Not really.  You don’t get enough fly time during practice?”

She shrugged.  “I got into the habit, you know?  After, I’m awake, and I feel better.  You wanna run some passes with me?”

“Shoot, what time is it?”  You’d forgotten about Hogsmeade, and the Hog’s Head, and Harry Potter.  The sun was peeking over the trees, casting shadows with the tops of each tower on the pitch.

“Seven thirty, why?”

“I wanted to go to Hogsmeade today, but I can play for an hour.”

Yvette grinned and tossed you the quaffle.  For whatever reason, completing random passes and scoring against imaginary opponents did a much better job of settling your mind than speed-flying in circles, although it was clear from the onset Yvette’s talent far out paced your own.

“You’ve gotten good at this,” you remarked breathily, touching down.

She scoffed, “I was always good, I just got better.  So, no tutoring today?”

“Huh?”

“Your Slytherin, you aren’t sneaking off to tutor them?”

You bit your lip, the secret, evidently, out.  “Donna told you?”

“You didn’t think she would?  She tells everyone everything.  Besides, three mornings in a row you don’t come to breakfast?  We were bound to know something was up.  So, you aren’t meeting them today?  Or are you meeting them in Hogsmeade?”

You snorted at the thought of being seen with Draco Malfoy anywhere but a classroom.  “No, no I’m just meeting up with Ginny and Luna.  Besides,” you stretched your arms up, thinking how to phrase it, “I’m not tutoring the Slytherin anymore, they didn’t need much help.”  She shot you a sidelong glance but didn’t press the issue.  

“What about you?  No Hogsmeade today?”

“Can’t, I’m behind on Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts and I do not want Umbridge or McGonagall cross with me.”

“Fair enough.  I’ll get you something from Honey Dukes?”

“Yes, please.”

Filch was in an uncharacteristically chipper mood as he snatched permission forms from nervous third years, grinning maniacally all the while.  You couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than the alternative, and an uncomfortable thought crossed your mind.  What did willingly keeping on such a dour sadist, one seemingly convinced torture was a reasonable punishment for misbehaving children, say about Dumbledore?  An uncomfortable thought, no doubt.

Across the courtyard, Ginny was holding hands with her newest boyfriend, who laughed abruptly at something she said.  A twinge of jealousy spun in your gut.  Ginny was, in a word, cool.  Funny, talented, witty, and quite genuine, it was difficult not to like her.  There was certainly a reason she was popular.

You looked around for Luna.  She, on the other hand, often gave the impression that she could be perfectly content to never speak to another person ever again.  You’d asked her once, unsure, if your presence was wanted at all.  She’d assured you that she quite enjoyed the company in her typical lilting, ethereal tone.  Finally, you spotted her at the edge of the courtyard on a stone bench, sitting with impeccable posture and clearly thinking deeply about one thing or another. She rose smoothly when you approached, smiling faintly as that faraway look refocused on you.

“Hey Luna,” you began, “Do you mind if I join you for the morning?”  The crowd began to filter out and down the road to Hogsmeade.  

She nodded gently, “I’m headed to Gladrags - all of my socks are infested with wrackspurt eggs.”  She lifted her pant leg to show a sockless foot sitting loosely in a shoe.  “They are an endangered species, after all.”

“Sure, sure.  My mum loves those, I can get her an early Christmas gift.”  Luna’s penchant for rare and less-than-discovered creatures, while unusual, never phased you too much.  After all, if you ever met an umgubular slashkilter you’d know how to keep it from tearing your throat out, thanks to her.

The morning sun was bright and warm and, thankfully, at your backs as you marched down the road with your classmates.  Chimney smoke peeked over the hills in a haze, and before long the village was in sight.  You happily followed Luna into Gladrags Wizardwear, where she found a number of socks you knew she’d never wear as pairs, and you picked out a pair that changed patterns with the weather for your mother.  Afterwards, you still had an hour to kill so you opted for Honeydukes.  Acid pops for Yvette, a cauldron cake for Herbert, and a box of liquorice wands for Donna, and Luna sat with you outside as you split a pumpkin pastie.

It was finally warm, and a little uncomfortably so, most of the students that passed you had their coats off and tied around their waists.  A group of third years were gushing loudly about the shrieking shack, each walking with a varied spring in their step.  Across the cobbled street, the door to the hairdresser’s, Clifford’s Scissors, opened and the bell chimed brightly.  Out came Draco Malfoy.

Oh, come on.  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice you, but Luna did.  

She followed your sour gaze and said, “I hear his father is visiting Hogwarts tomorrow.  It is curious why he should appear now of all times.”

You swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin pastie.  “What do you mean?”

“He works very closely with the Ministry.  No one ever invites him, he just announces his arrival.”

“Ah,” you said.  That certainly made some things clearer.

Luna glanced up at the sun.  “It’s almost noon.  Let’s go.”  You picked up the box of candy for your friends and followed her down the road.  Very far down the road.  Almost to the end of the road.  You would’ve thought it was a mistake if there weren’t so many other students you recognized.

Inside the Hog’s Head was… gross.  You wrinkled your nose reflexively.  You sat next to Luna and glanced around.  Harry Potter stood next to one of Ginny’s older brothers (was it Roland?) at the bar with Hermione Granger.  His expression seemed more and more morose with ever new student that came through the door.  You waved to a few Hufflepuffs as they came in, but the group was mostly Gryffindor.  Which, you supposed, made some amount of sense.  Two of Ginny’s other older brothers, whose names you knew because of how often Filch said them like a curse, went around handing everyone a butterbeer.  You took a mug from one of them, you couldn’t tell which, in exchange for two Sickles.  The group sat quietly, gingerly sipping butterbeer from cloudy mugs, waiting.

Finally, the trio sat down, and Hermione began speaking.  She covered essentially what Ginny had said in the hallway a few days ago, but you watched Harry’s face.  She finished with, “I want to be properly trained in Defense because… because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

A palpable shiver coursed through the room, one girl actually screamed a little, which you found rather dramatic.  Zacharias immediately asked for proof.  You leaned forward.  Although you wouldn’t have put it the way he did, you were still torn over who to believe.  Harry scowled, and his answer was unsatisfying, but he still didn’t seem to be lying.  In fact, he seemed quite humble even as Zacharias continued to prod him.  You understood, though he began to grate on your nerves as well.  In the end, you put your name on the list like everyone else, excited and nervous to actually learn something useful.  Before passing it on you glanced through the names discreetly.  Ron.  That’s his name.

The next day was a long slog in the library, oscillating between Transfiguration and Arithmancy homework, and wondering whether Draco Malfoy’s father had arrived at the school yet.  And what his purpose was.  Could it be solely to dissuade his only son from a career deemed beneath him?  It occurred to you that the Malfoys were a step above simply rich - it wasn’t as if they were working for the Galleons.  You looked out the great stained glass windows flanking the door periodically, earning you some quizzical looks from Yvette.  Evening rolled around, with not a single sign of silver hair, and you found yourself in the common room, enjoying the enchanted breeze and the warm glow of the fire, surrounded by candy wrappers, as you watched Donna crush Yvette in Wizard’s Chess.  The round painting door swung open to allow a racket of overlapping voices to spill in, followed by Ernie and Hannah, Zacharias hot on their heels.  They made a bee line for the notice board and pinned something on it.

“What’s this about?” you asked, walking over.

Zacharias turned sharply, agitated, “The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has disbanded all organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs.”  You shared a look with the three of them, all having been present in the Hog’s Head, and remembered your friends’ presence.  He continued, “That means-”

“Quidditch,” you interrupted.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “Quidditch.  Which we will have to beg her to let us play otherwise we’ll be expelled.” Your mouth ran dry.

Yvette piped up, “What?!  She can’t be serious.”

“Can’t she?” Hannah said sourly.

“I’ll go to her office first thing in the morning,” Zacharias assured Yvette, “hopefully we haven’t done anything to upset her.”

That night, sleep did not come easy.  Learning practical skills was one thing, but being expelled for it was entirely another.  Although, if Voldemort really had returned as Harry and his friends believed, Ernie had been right when he said that this was more important than anything else you could do this year.  

You jumped a little, startled, when Wilbur’s furry mass appeared next to your head.  He settled himself at your feet, stepping heavily on your stomach as he went.  

If Voldemort really had returned, expulsion was a minor issue.  You thought of Donna and Yvette, both muggle born, and your dad.  If Voldemort really had returned someone was going to have to fight.  And it couldn’t just be Harry Potter.

As it turned out, Umbridge was only interested in keeping the Gryffindor team in suspense, as you heard from Yvette that the Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been reinstated rather breezily when Zacharias asked.  The fate of Harry Potter’s ‘study group’ remained uncertain, however, and the week trudged on with no news.  

Herbology passed without incident, though you kept stealing glances at Draco to see how he was doing.  By the end of class, his face was red and his eyebrows drawn, but the fanged geranium sat in a pot littered with small, shiny buttons with its toothy maw hanging open, clearly pleased with the trade.  Your own geranium was resting comfortably as you made up limericks on the spot, its own jaw growing looser with every word.  

By the end of the week though, you noticed a number of students you recognized from the Hog’s Head, whispering amongst themselves at dinner.  You hung back when your friends left for the common room, claiming to still be hungry.  Almost immediately, Harry Potter and Ginny’s brother appeared next to the Hufflepuff table.

Ron began, speaking softly, “We’ve found a spot.”

“Oh, good, I was beginning to wonder,” you trailed off.

Harry glanced around, “Tonight, eight o’clock, seventh floor.  Opposite the tapestry of Barn-”

“Barnabas the Barmy.  Got it.”

They nodded conspiratorially and were on their way.  Great.  Now you’d just have to hope no one asked you where you had been all night, and that no one would ever ask you that again.   It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your friends, but none of you had exactly made it clear to the others what was believed about the whole thing.  And then you’d gone to the meeting, and then you’d put your name down, like joining a secret society.  Should you have included them?  It was risky, to them and to the rest, the more people that knew of the whole thing.  You’d just have to come up with something decent later.

By the time the meeting was over, it was past curfew.  You’d dueled for over an hour with Ernie Macmillan, who seemed more concerned with performing intimidating wand patterns than actually disarming you, so when the DA split up into small groups to go back to their common rooms you ended up with him.  Both prefects for each house represented were in attendance, so they sent out a small group, then a prefect, then a small group, then the other prefect - so that if any were caught, it would look like they’d simply been sent back to their dormitories by the correct authority.

You walked along the dark corridors, enthusing quietly about the whole thing.  Ernie had sustained a small bruise next to his left eye from one of the Creevey’s antics, but he matched your enthusiasm.

Ernie knocked on the great round wooden door, and it swung open quietly, the warm breezes of the common room greeting you.  

Donna looked up from the roll of parchment she stared at hopelessly by the fireplace to watch Ernie bid you a pontifical goodnight.  She waved you over.  “Where have you been?” she asked once you’d sat down.

“Just some studying.”

She gave you a suspicious once-over.  “You’d tell me if you were dating Ernie Macmillan, right?”

You chortled abruptly, the notion absurd and hilarious.  “I would tell you, but I wouldn’t date Ernie Macmillan.  I, uh, ran into him and we got to talking about Transfiguration and we lost track of time.”

“Uh huh,” she said, slowly.  It was unclear whether she fully believed your explanation, but she dropped the subject regardless.  “Well I’ve been sat here since supper working on the Pepperup Potion essay.  So now that you’re back from studying you could help me study.”

“OK, but you have to proofread my essay for Umbridge.”

“Hand it over.”  

There was an unspoken agreement between Draco and yourself to avoid each other indefinitely, broken only after a Herbology lesson on puffapods, during which Draco had forced a spore cloud from the poor thing so large that he and his two friends fainted immediately.  Professor Sprout conscripted you to revive them; a ground mixture of ginger soaked in spirits and petals from the offending puffapod did the trick.  The large boy on the left, you learned his name was Crabbe, startled awake red faced and ready for action.  He looked around sheepishly and shoved your mortar bowl away from his face.  The other one, Goyle, opened his eyes but continued to snore.

You had to shoo away some Slytherin girl who had begun shaking his shoulders, then you held the bowl under Draco’s nose, arm stretched to leave as much room between you as possible.  He looked uncharacteristically peaceful, aside from the green-brown dust that discolored his pale forehead.  His eyes fluttered open, and for a second you thought you could back away before he was truly lucid, but then his cold grey eyes focused on you and narrowed. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, getting to his feet in a hurry.  Crabbe and Goyle immediately began dusting off his robes.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Crabbe beat you to it.  “You fainted.  The bloody plant-”

“Get off me.”  He shooed away his lackeys, the rest of the class still staring, the Slytherin girl looking like she’d launch herself at him at her first opportunity.  “I’m fine.”  He did not ask about his friends.

Professor Sprout tried to continue the lesson, but between the constant thrum of quiet gossip and careless handling of the puffapods, it became clear that three people fainting had caused too much excitement.  She sighed and said, “Class dismissed.  I want a foot of parchment on the proper handling of puffapods due next lesson.  Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy.  If I could have your attention for a moment.  Misters Crabbe and Goyle, you can go.”  She put her hands on her hips and waited for you to approach her.  “Now, am I to understand that you are no longer being tutored, Mr. Malfoy?”  He shook his head, and she turned to you.  “Would you care to tell me why that is?”

Draco interrupted, “I’ve decided I’d rather work with the Ministry.  So I won’t need a Herbology OWL.”

A look of disappointment passed over her face.  “Even so, I can’t imagine you’re happy with such unsatisfactory work.”  Draco’s expression soured.  “Professor Snape has told me what a skilled brewer you are, but let me tell you something.  The best potions can only be brewed, not bought - and that requires the brewer to appraise high quality ingredients.  Which, can you guess, requires a good understanding of what we do in this class.”  Draco deflated a bit, and focused his gaze on his shoes.  “Y/N, that was quick thinking with the ginger - ten points to Hufflepuff.  Why did you have it on hand?”

“Oh, I, uh, I have Potions right after this.”

She gestured to you as if to say there, see what I’m saying?  Her posture softened; her fists uncurled and came to rest at her sides.  “I imagine you are still willing to tutor Mr. Malfoy?”  His gaze snapped to you, his expression unreadable.  

You only hesitated a moment, after all he wasn’t particularly pleasant, but you had improved significantly in Transfiguration all thanks to his brief instruction.  You nodded your head definitively.

Professor Sprout smiled, her cheeks turning rosy again.  “I can’t force you, Mr. Malfoy, but you should consider it.  Now, off you pop!”  She wrote you both notes in case you were late, which you knew you would be, and herded you out of the greenhouse into the cold October sun.

Draco resumed ignoring you, until you stepped into the castle and he said, still not looking at you, “Saturday?”

“Quidditch pitch?”

He nodded.  “I’ll bring the hedgehog.”

“I’ll bring some books,” you finished, and you parted ways in front of the massive fireplace.

Professor Snape was not happy when you arrived at Potions.  “Miss Y/L/N, late again?”

You held out the note.  “I am sorry, Professor.  I do have a note this time.”  He took it unceremoniously, his hooded eyes inspecting Professor Sprout’s signature.  He glanced at you appraisingly, then gestured for you to sit down so he could continue his lesson on Beautification Potion.

Once again, you trudged down the path to the Quidditch pitch far too early on a Saturday.  Draco had already set up the Slytherin themed quilt and his portable fireplace, he was hastily drying some patches of melted frost around the edges of the space.  His back was to you, and hadn’t seemed to notice your arrival, so you set the stack of books you carried down gently and slid the box presumably containing McGonagall’s hedgehog towards you.  He remembered you, apparently, and didn’t protest when you scooped him up and sat him in your lap to wait for Draco to notice you.

“Sicco,” he muttered under his breath.  He checked the watch on his wrist and turned around.  You grinned, and he yelped when he saw you; his eyes narrowed.  “How long have you been sitting there?”

You scratched the hedgehog’s back lightly.  “Only a bit.  We had to get reacquainted.”

His eyebrows knit together.  “I saw you three days ago.”

“I was talking about the hedgehog.”

“Oh, well.  That does make more sense.”  He sat down across from you, apparently satisfied with his handiwork.  “I, uh, just wanted you to know that I-”

“You don’t have to apologize, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I was going to tell you not to apologize.”

“Me?  Apologize for what?”

“For humiliating me in front of an entire classroom, obviously!”

Your face turned hot.  “You fainted!  What was I supposed to do?”

He crossed his arms, his face equally inflamed.  “Well you didn’t have to come rushing into save me like I was some helpless child.”

“It’s not my fault you ignore Professor Sprout’s instructions.  Would you have preferred to be carried off to the hospital wing?  Your friends fainted too, you know, you could try caring about someone other than yourself.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

You gaped at him.  “Everything!  You and your friends fainted.  During class.  And you’re so concerned with appearances you can’t even acknowledge that someone might do something nice for you just for the sake of it.”  You stopped, surprised.  “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?  You think I’m going to want something from you.  Right?”  He shrugged.  “Bloody hell.”  You set the hedgehog down and stood up to pace.

Draco rolled his eyes.  “Look, I’m… I’m sorry.  Ok?  I keep forgetting I can’t treat you like them.”

You stopped to glare at him, refused to be appeased by what very well may have been the first time he’d apologized for anything in his life.  “Like who?”

“Crabbe and Goyle.”

“Why would you treat your friends like this anyway?”

“Well, they’re not really friends.  Our families go way back, so they’re more like colleagues.”

“That’s ridiculous.”  He shrugged.  You sat back down and pulled the hedgehog back into your lap.  “So, the Ministry, huh?  What would you be doing for them?”  He looked at you suspiciously.  “Fine, don’t tell me.  I just hope it was your idea, and not your dad’s.  We’ve got a lot of work to do.”  You dropped the stack of books you brought into his lap and pointed at the one on top.

[lavaflowe]

JTTW READING CLUB CATCH UP

Pt. 2

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

Chpt 4 Thoughts:

•the fighting immediately at the gate should have tipped everyone off this wasn’t going to go well💀 doomed from the start

•the hand holding with Gold star of Venus and Wukong I am not okay, I’m exploding it’s so cute

•Holy shit the poem about Heaven is LONG

•Wukong handles being called a bogus immortal very well?? I thought he would be angrier about that… I guess he knows its true tho🤷‍♀️

•Wukong is fantastic at his job- the best horse girl around (for the 2 weeks he was there lol)

•tantrum™️ kicks over his desk and smashes everything with his ruyi bang, causes property damage and LEAVES

•interesting that I’ve seen a lot of adaptations have him release the horses and do a mini havoc in Heaven

•love that it’s just 2 random demons who suggest 齐天大圣 to Wukong, not anyone important or anything JAKDJSJ

•HE QUITS AND THE JADE EMPEROR CALLS FOR HIM BE CAPTURED BECAUSE HES A MONSTER??? HUH???(I thought Gold Star stepped in but I GUESS I WAS WRONG)(capitalism smh /j)

•NEZHA APPEARANCE WHOOOO

•Spreading Flower axe sounds so cool, prime design material

•”eyes glowered strangely like burning stars; past his shoulders two ears, forked and hard; his voice resounded like bells and chimes”<- poem about Wukong, so lovely

•Theme I’m noticing: Wukong treated like an animal until proven otherwise (makes sense but also not)

•asks Nezha whose little brother is he, and Nezha immediately spits back like 3 insults JAKFJSJSJ, he is not here to mess around🔫

•3 HEADED 6 ARM FIGHT: WUKONG v. NEZHA

•the old bait and switch then smashing Nezha’s shoulder (flash back to all the paintings of Nezha running off while holding his broken arm💀)

•Love that Wukong called himself the little brother of the fraternal 7

•Gold Star Of Venus more like Master Negotiator/Mediator

•….is Gold star lying??? WUH

•”Peace and Quiet” and “Serene Spirit”- it’s like they don’t know that’s gonna bore the shit out of Wukong💀 like watching a train wreck in slow motion- HES NEEDS ACTION AND SOMEONE TO PLAY WITH

Chpt 5&6 under cut:

Chpt 5 Thoughts:

•uses all his free time to make more friends

•Gold Star realizes that he may get bored so they give him an extremely tedious task that will also probably bore him JAKDJAJAJD

•HELP HE JUST STARTS EATING ALL THE PEACHES WHAT- he behaved for probably like 2 weeks (again) and then decided he couldn’t wait any longer to try the OLDEST AND RAREST FRUIT IN THE GARDEN!!! AND HE PICKS MULTIPLE, NOT JUST ONE

•I’m yelling he does this multiple times

•okay but him playing around and eating making him tired and taking a nap on the branches when he’s 2 inches tall?? Adorable, no longer mad he ate all the peaches, he’s just a little guy

•ah so he only ate the really good ones. Ofcourse.

•Gently breaking the news that he’s probably not invited to the banquet 😬

•immediately freezes the peach maidens- WHY??? WHAT WAS THE REASON???

•Identity theft smh

•he is feeling….mischievous

•RESIST UR IMPULSES OH MY GOD

•he is so wasted he accidentally wandered into Laozi’s lab

Wukong: I’ve never met Laozi….now is for SURE the perfect time to make friends, when I’m so drunk I can’t walk straight

•He keeps putting things in his mouth, very monkey™️ of him

•IMMEDIATELY sobered up and knew he was in deep shit

•he lived in heaven for over a century 👀👀, Wukong says half a year- so maybe like 175 days?

•he goes back to get wine for his monkeys 🥺🥺

•next day/year Everyone one complains about the Havoc LMAO, they just kept coming, I know the Jade Emperor is distraught HAJDJAJ

•Wukong was going to straight up ignore the heavenly army they sent if they hadn’t busted down his door😂

•all his demon Allies were captured while he did a 1 v 6 with Nezha and the 5 Devarajas

•Wukong starting to get lost in the sauce, doesn’t care his ally’s were captured as long as his monkeys are okay

Chpt 6 Thoughts:

•Guan Yin Rolling up their sleeves to fix this mess

•”nothing but an invitation to disappointment” THE DRAMATICS

•I wonder if the Greek constellations were actually listed or if that was a translation choice??

•interesting that he outlasted Moksa instead of outwitting him- I feel like there’s a deeper meaning to that

•Guan Yin: I have a solution…..call in your Nephew

Jade Emperor: GENIUS

•Erlang is PUMPED to fight Wukong

•something something Erlang Shen is HAWT

•Erlang Shen: I’m here to kick your ass and arrest you

Wukong: your MOM

Erlang already swinging:

•Warform fight pt 2: Electric Boogaloo

•”they darted as stars to fill the sky”

•Erlangs eye being called the Phoenix Eye sounds SO COOL

•spotted bustard has no standards-I stand by the whore joke

•Erlang having fun with their fight LMAOOOOO

•HELP WHY DID HE WASTE TIME ENTERING A TEMPLE??? WUKONG PLS💀💀 UR ARMY IS GONE AND YOURE CORNERED NOW IS NOT THE TIME

•Wukong defeated with an assist from Laozi and Xiaotian

•stabbed for his crimes

•it’s execution time

•really loved that the poems were used to describe all of the fights

[lonelysucker7]

Strangers on a Train

🎉 Chapter 4 🎉

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Bit of profanity, some angst, chaotic as frick

2/24/24

Note: HIII!!! OH MY GOD ITS BEEN TWO MONTHS. Listen, I was struggling okay 😭 like chapter 3 kinda made me hesitate writing another chapter. To the people that sticked around, the anon who was excited… I’m sorry. I may have disappointed you now and it’s okay to feel that way. And I thank you for being there anyway near or far. I can’t really say if I’ll keep up with next chapter as life is pushing me around. But… we’ll see?

Anywho, enjoy!!! 😆

Next: Chapter 5

Previously: Chapter 3

🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️

For a while now not a single drop of water fell from the skies in the city of Houston. Thank you, climate change. In consequence everyone burned under the scorching sun and lived with it in any possible way.

Until last night the weatherman predicted Houston was supposed to welcome the first of rain showers in a long time. And to you that felt a little ridiculous. Why did everything feel the first all of a sudden?

The next day peeking out the window was met with the sight of a wet pavement and dry dirt turned to squishy looking mud. For a minute you considered staying home to avoid a certain someone with the rain serving as an excuse to stay away. You couldn’t anyway, not after using one of your work time off from just a few days ago. Besides, after countless days of sweltering at night the rain encourages you to enjoy this as much as you can.

You pack the usual in your found bag, sneak in a couple of those snacks that were found there and zip it up to a close. Donning a comfortable jacket and taking your umbrella in hand, you paused midway to the door, the fingertips of your hand grazing the doorknob. Your eyebrows furrowed with a moment, your arm almost unhooking the bag on your shoulder to let it fall to the ground.

But you fix it back up again.

Either I apologize or just ignore it and sit somewhere else. One or the other.

“God, this is so stupid…” you muttered with a frown.

With a shake of your head you swing the door open and out the door you went.

………………………………………………………………………….

The rain had been going on since last night but you swore it felt like days as your feet kept stepping into large puddles that splashed your pants. It almost made you feel icky on the way the murky dark cool water clung onto your ankles but you felt good about it in a strange way. It distracted you somehow from feeling other things.

The walk to the station was a steady one. Minus the wind trying to carry you away with your almost broken umbrella.

Upon arriving you realized how empty the site was hardly with any person in sight. It was just you and two others. Above you the plastic roof you had a crack and water seeped in so you kept away from it standing in the open with your umbrella. Standing there in the quietness and the little pattering noises of rain bouncing off the hood helped you relax.

This is the calmest it’s been for a while now.

Suddenly the whistle of the train rings out somewhere in the distance, your hand automatically clenches tightly the strap of your bag and handle of the umbrella. The precipitation on this cloudy day makes your hand clammy. You nodded your head lightly as you rocked on the heels of your feet. And slowly, with the hand that grasped once the strap, move it to rest it over your chest. You kept rubbing with your palm in gentle circles as your heart thrummed excitedly. The loud pounds audible in your ears.

The train kept coming nearer and nearer by the second and finally moved to a halt in front of you. Steamed floated from its rails, followed by the metal sound of doors scraping to open. You stood there silently feeling those only people pass by you with a hurry to escape the now heavy rain. Now it was you on the platform and still you continued rocking on your heels more forcefully, and suddenly one of your legs made an effort to one step forward. It might have been summertime where heat made you sweat, yet somehow the rain made you feel warm around your neck. It burned even beneath the umbrella.

Is it too late to go back?

You put down your umbrella, reaching to close it. With a little shake to remove the raindrops and feeling the dense wetness tickling your hair and nape of your neck, you reach out to grab the rails of the entrance and hop in.

Behind you the doors close and your heart sinks slightly. The platform view leaves your sight and you turn around to find the seat. When you do your breath hitches slightly causing you to thin your lips a bit.

Unsurprisingly He was there in his regular seat and all staring back at you with a slight frown.

Ah shit.

Now it really was too late…

Woo.

Okay.

Seats around you are at your disposition ready for you to take without competition. The urge to sit far enough from Him starts to become overwhelming and you do just that, huffing with a smile.

You turn your back grabbing one of the handles directing towards the end of the train. Right, you had no blame in this, you never asked for the seat, whatever his problem was he—

Halfway you backtracked your steps, a pained expression contorting and swiftly you took a seat in the front of the car near a window facing diagonally to Him. In your seat your bag rests on your lap and the wet umbrella rests on the empty seat next to you. You couldn’t even raise your eyes from your bag starting to pick on the little messy crosshatched stitches on the side.

The train is dreadfully quiet, not much of a crowd to begin with, standing or sitting. It was just you, Him, and maybe a couple others making five. Where was the crowd when you needed it? To hide you? You could only blame the rain for arriving a day too late for the inconvenience of yesterday. Inconvenience?

You sighed.

“Brought my bag today.” You announced towards Him, your voice cracking at ‘bag’. Hearing your voice makes you suppress a screech, the blood rushing to your ears as you stretch your lips to smile at Him. If you had bleach in this moment, you’d pour it over your eyes to spare yourself the sight of the man staring at you like he smelled a dead animal from nearby. Well no it was actually more confused and slightly startled, but he sees you shrugging your bag to show him.

He blinks remotely, but it’s a sign of acknowledgement to say the least. An eyebrow raises a bit, stretching some of the scars near his eye. A brief nod as he lowly responds,

“…Good for you?”

Lord almighty help my ass.

You nodded, smiling meekly, feeling your bones rattle a little in your body. Your left leg bounces slightly, shaking your bag. A brief chuckle emits from your lips and you add on,

“Y-yeah, I mean… I thought I lost my bag forever, s-since y’know… that day, right…?” Your words trailed on attempting to reference your attack at the same time looking at him with a suggestive smile. It only earns you a subtle discomfort from his part.

“Yeah…I know.” He turns his head away for a moment, facing out the window with an unreadable expression. Your leg bounces slightly more, and you’re tongue tied for a second. What to say next you’re not sure, but you still kept that smile. So you continue.

“A-and let me tell you i-it was returned to me—” You nervously chuckled, your fingers wringing together “—Back to my workplace! L-like, wow, I really second guessed myself right there… Someone must have sent me an angel. Funny huh?”

Your cheeks began to hurt from your smile equally as your hands ached with every tug you gave to your fingers. Your audience appeared stunned to silence like if he was caught off guard without being able to say something properly back. This is the part you hated in every conversation similar to this and in each one it was you who ended up screwing it. All you wanted to know was.. was…

“You okay?” He asks, his eyes narrowing a little, regarding the sight of your stiffened appearance. You hum your answer with an awkward smile, replying,

“I’m fine.”

“Really.” He doesn’t sound convinced, his eyebrows lowering even more. You nod your head curtly before he can say anything else.

“Yeah. I'm fine.” You reply with a shrug. He still doesn’t look convinced but his eyes relax a tad bit. You turned your head back to face the window, chewing on the inside walls of your right cheek. You pointed out the window, breathing out the obvious stress in your voice.

“Uh, n-nice day rig—?”

“Stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

His stern voice cut you off with a hand to halting your sentence. He doesn’t look too pleased, rather irritated you both are aware you are avoiding to confess something that’s guilt tripping you. Your mouth snapped shut then, your body tensing up with a noticeable shake. Only then you utter off your tongue with guilt,

“Sorry.”

The train rattled on as the silence fell upon you both and now the overwhelming feeling of regret and embarrassment flooded your mind. Your eye catches his one of his boots slightly twist down his heel on the floor making a little squeaky sound. Gosh you thought you had it in control. Now you have him more uncomfortable than ever, and he’s not meeting your eye at all. Your mind starts to mock you: You had a way with words, you liked talking to people, you good at this you’re good at that—

What a joke.

“Hey listen… About yesterday…”

Your voice comes down with a slight softer tone than the eccentric one you held a couple moments ago. You swallow a bit through your thickening throat. The words are stuck in your chest. Leaning your head back, you brought it back down and you let it rush out.

“I’m sorr—”

“I’m sorry.”

You both freeze as you both let out apologies to each other. His eyes are slightly wide, but yours is wider with the addition of throwing out your empty upturned hands to your apology. He hums a little as if he was unsure to proceed or not. And you blink a little.

“Say what now—?”

“You tell me—”

Another pause. You both clearly want to respond to whatever the hell you two are trying to apologize. Lips twitching, eyes squinted, fluorescent lights burning the retinas. Like drawing guns at sundown. Who shoots first?

You. You’re faster. Bringing back your hands, you point at yourself and rapidly spit out your words

“HoldupletmegofirstImadeyouuncomfortablesoImsorry.”

“Uncomfortable—You’re sorry?” He was baffled, staring at you with his brows knitted together, as if trying to make out what you’re apologizing for. Too fast man, too fast! Idiot!

You can’t help but roll your eyes and you run a distressed hand over your mouth, leaning slightly forward as you say with a much slower culpability.

“I said…” You inhale a bit of air and then exhale it. “…I said something that made you run out of this train. Not sure what it was but I sincerely didn't mean to offend you. I’m sorry.”

He in return does a double take, pausing to open his mouth and close it yet again. And the moment you’re about to lay more apologies, he raises his hand again to stop you. A beat. That same strange look from yesterday reappeared on his face, the one where he was conflicted.

“I…I didn’t run out on you because… Of whatever you said.” He began slowly. The little muscles on the side of his jaw tenses up, flexing slightly. The weary look in his eye made him shift his focus away from meeting your face as if apologizing was becoming hard for him to continue. He glanced at the ground then dully met your eye once more.

“The train….” He pauses again letting the sentence alone to settle down. “It was crowded and I don’t sit well in crowded spaces. It’s hot, it’s stuffy—”

“It’s hell.” You mused softly, half smiling at him at your slow understanding. A little nod and a soft rumble from his chest is heard.

“Damn right it is.” He looks away, scratching his stubble with a finger as a faint streak of annoyance appears in his eyes. At the mention to the stuffy environment of passengers, you were beginning to be partially thankful today no one rode the train.

Humid and sweat. A hygienic disaster.

“Frankly, yesterday showed how good I am at running away from it. And it ends up becoming someone else’s problem.”

A mild worry creases his brow as he glances back at you at the same time he weighs his words with a sense of familiarity. Like it wasn’t the first time it happened. The man straightens up his back and he faces you fully now from the distance you two were in. A subtle amused smile begins to show on his face and he turns a palm up, directing it towards you.

“Look I’m not the best at apologies but I’m sorry for causing you trouble. Clearly you were distressed.” He responds candidly, but you hear a hint of slight tease in it. Of course he’s referring to the way you acted like a doofus a good minutes ago making you feel pretty stupid for a second. But now that it was resolved you could reply without the need of feeling that way.

A small smile gets to you and you rub your neck. “Oh, ha, yeah ‘distressed’… I’m sorry for that too. And you’re fine. I mean I thought… I thought I scared you.”

“Don’t sweat it. And you? Scare me?” He crosses his arms, a light smirk on his lips that causes you to clench your jaw a little. “Believe me, I’ve seen scarier.”

Somehow those words get a little laugh out of you with those nerves combined from earlier, almost causing you to tear up. You rub a finger underneath your eye, and ask him,

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

You see him tilt his head to the side a bit and his eyes glower at a thought. But he briefly flashes a smirk, his head shaking, and responds,

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

So he doesn’t want to say… Okay. You just shrugged it off, sensing the question and answer could possibly a little intrusive. Stranger to stranger, why dump all the exposition?

“Too personal?”

“Very.”

You thin your lips, shifting your eyes away for a moment and say,

“Gotcha.”

Once you understood, you watch him turn back to face outside the window watching the raindrops falling sideways with rushed synchronization. The small droplets created a cascade of shadows reflecting visibly on his face and they darken his thoughtful look alongside his scars. You grow a little quiet, and you contemplate taking his word seriously or not. The temptation to ask him for an explanation almost claws your back. But you thought better of it.

“Your question earlier about the weather… I agree. It’s nice.” He comments to you through the silence, continuing to stare out the window. You feel yourself start smiling a little, forgetting whatever weird thoughts got to your mind. You also turn around to see the rain indirectly sharing the sight with him.

Outside, the weather has become a little heavier, the clouds darkening grey hovering over the city from a distance and the sight of mist starts rising from the ground. It’s such a nice sight to see that it’s no wonder you two grown ups feel entranced by the peaceful setting.

The train makes a stop at the same platform you made the man sitting diagonally of you run off. The thought made you still cringe a bit, but now his apology replayed in your mind for comfort. The rain here has gotten heavier and alarmingly impossible to see around. People get off chattering about the killings from these past days and your ears don’t catch much except the possibility of a serial killer on the loose.

More people come inside the cart, moving to take up the space in the back which leaves you and him the only ones taking space in the front. The train picks up pace once again and you know its heading to the man’s stop.

“Mind if I ask a question about yesterday?” He speaks up from his seat. You shake your head.

“Not at all. Ask away.”

“Thanks. Your, uh, nightmares… Worse or better today?” He asks curiously.

Pulling yourself away from the window, you look back at him and he meets your gaze. You nod your head back and forth, trying to pick up on the feelings of your nightmares. Last night you did have another one, a slightly much calmer one with less blood and less death. And less screaming.

“I’d say it’s much better.”

“Good to hear.”

You think he might think that’s the end of it. But you add,

“…Although something keeps ticking me off.”

The look of surprise appearing in his face answers your assumption.

“Is that so? And that would be?”

You sucked a bit of air between your teeth and exhaled softly.

“There are these growling noises. Animalistic. They sound familiar and I can’t put to a finger to it.” You say with a bit of disbelief, placing a fist under your chin. Your eyes flickered towards his when he clicks his tongue a little.

“Best not to look into it. Spare yourself from more frights. You’re looking much better today than yesterday.” He comments with a light warning, an etched look of discomfort on his eye. You quirk an eyebrow but hum in agreement. He may be right. In your state right now, your nightmare has become less of a problem now. Just like he said, even the mirror you looked at in the morning showed you your face was much better and your energy was returning.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Don’t suppose. Take my word for it.” He firmly states seriously with a hint of a lightness mixed in.

His look appeared a little hard, but he kept a calm demeanor as he is straightening his jacket to stretch out the wrinkles. Even then a subtle smirk is there. You could feel your chest swelling up a little every time he did that.

Above you both, the roof began to audibly slam loud drum beats of rain and you heard him cuss under his breath. A small pout was formed on his lips as he glared at the roof and he mutters.

“Son of a bitch… This rain is gonna wash the spider out.”

You glance over your shoulder briefly, but snap to look at it back and turn fully to face it. Your face almost pressed against the window, your breath fogging it up a bit.

“Oh wow look outside.” Both of you stare out in your individual windows sharing a moment of silence as only the pattering of rain trickles harder. The station up ahead was almost invisible, blended by the streaks of water. Buckets. Cats and dogs. It might wash the spiders out like he said.

“A free shower.” You mumble in awe.

“With bacteria.” He adds flatly.

“What makes anyone wanna go out there? Pretty heavy stuff to deal with.” You turn back to him as you jerk your thumb outside. The man only shrugs it off, his gloved fingers starting to zip up his dark jacket.

“You’re here. Answer it yourself.”

“Work day. And I came prepared.” You raise your umbrella and shake it a bit as couple droplets stain the seat. The man nods at it in approval.

“Smart.” He continues to move the zipper up. “The longer ones been in Houston, the more beats they get used to. They shouldn’t have trouble dealing with extreme weather. It's a warmer climate down here after all.” He says matter of fact.

“Huh. Okay. So how long have you been living in Houston?” You blurt out your question with genuine curiosity. The man’s zipper gets jammed in the middle and he tugs it up with a little more force. His hands drop to his sides, giving up with a grumble and he pauses for a second to think of a response. And it’s that dang look of his again.

“Uh…”

Before he can answer, the ding of the announcement for his stop rings out and it scares you both. Both of you share a look of irritation at the announcement. But slowly the man’s face softens up a little, a contemplative look on his eye. He sighs.

“…Saving that for tomorrow.” He finally answers conclusively.

He gets up from his seat, the back hairs of your neck prickling as you hear his low grunts reacting to the popping of his legs. You notice He didn’t seem to be with his bag today and he began to walk out towards the exit without any rush. And you took advantage of his slow pace to say,

“Thank you by the way!”

The man stops in his tracks and his dark eyes gaze down at you puzzled. You smiled warmly at him, feeling more comfortable and confident.

“For your seat yesterday. I didn’t let anyone else take it.”

You kept smiling at him, happy for his kindness from yesterday. The funny look he gives you is a little odd, but nevertheless keeps his handsome features in check. He slowly nods, his hand tapping lightly the bar of the pole a bit as he looks away. Maybe the train fluorescent lights were causing you to be a little color blind, but you swore to see faint pink on his scarred cheeks.

“No problem.” He mellows faintly and resumes his walk. But not before pausing again to look at you and say, “Don’t linger too much out in the rain. It’s nice, but… You don’t want to catch a cold, do you?”

He held your gaze for a little longer before stepping out. The rain washed down on him immediately, pushing him down, but recovers and stays upfront. And soon the train departed with his figure disappearing in the showers.

You remained in your seat, feeling the blood rushing to your face intensifying once he was gone. And you place your face in your hands, smiling now like an idiot and laugh a little.

What a thrill this morning was for you.

Much better than what you expected.

Best of all…There was going to be a tomorrow.

.

.

.

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Loki Episode 4 Incoherent Thoughts

I know we have two more episodes. I know it's (probably) gonna be fine. But goddamn, guys.

I hope this episode doesn't completely disprove the end of my fic so soon.

Also the word Heart in the title is turning me into more of an absolute Fool

This intro is making me very upset

HOW DID THIS RECORDING GET BACK TO THE TVA IN THE WAR ROOM

OH SHIT

OH FUCKING SHIT

NO YOU'RE NOT, YOU DOUCHE

Welp, already. Before the title card. Damn.

Why does the door stay open at the end of the last episode for Loki and Mobius, but close immediately in this one though?

Sylvie!

Wait no Heart is in the title.

I SWEAR TO GOD IF RENSLAYER AND MINUTES END UP TOGETHER AND THE ONLY GAY REP WE GET IS THE VILLAIN LADY AND THE ANIMATED CLOCK I'M GONNA LOSE IT

Loki being soft and gentle is KILLING ME

You didn't need to give me that long of a shot on that screen. I know the future's approaching.

B15 I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

Fucking hell I love this. I want the end of this so bad to be lokius and Sylvie as my trio but not a throuple.

Gaybies!

His number two fan!

LOOK AT CASEY BACK THERE SMILING LIKE A PROUD BOYFRIEND I'M SORRY I SHIP THESE TWO SO BAD

ANOTHER REASON WHY HIS NAME IS OUROBOROS I'M DYING

OH MY GOD HE SAID THE THING OB YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THE THING I'M SCREAMING

OH MY GOD THIS IS KILLING ME

SYLVIE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE HERE

OB YOU MADE MINI-FIGURES?!

STOP I HAVE TOO MANY THINGS TO WRITE I CANNOT WRITE A FIC WHERE OB DMS THEIR DND CAMPAIGN

OB'S NOT SO SUBTLE LOOK AT SYLVIE WHEN HE SAYS "When someone killed He Who Remains" AND HER RESPONDING LOOK OF PRIDE LIKE 'Thank you, and I'd do it again' AND LOKI LIKE 'Not in front of the variant, please' IS FUCKING SENDING ME

"And ruined my life" OB YOU'RE MY FAVORITE OFFICIALLY

THE BICKERING IS BACK BABYYY ALSO IT'S ABSOLUTELY YOUR TURN LOKI HE'S RIGHT

CASEY AND OB JUST IDLY WATCHING THE BANTER I CANNOT WITH THIS EPISODE OH MY GOD

SYLVIE JUMPING INTO THE BICKERING OH NO OH NO (this is an oh no for me, maybe I'll explain what oh no means in reaction posts later, if anything comes of this one. God I hope not)

Loki is a very fast runner

VICTOR

But also please do not come in the way of Casey and OB

Ohhh fuck

I thought she was gonna restore his memories without permission, I really did

[I just paused typing the reactions because I thought of a theory OH MY GOD]

LOKI DON'T GO AFTER HER YOU KEEP CHOOSING MO STOP

OH FUCKING BRAD AGAIN

WHY ARE THEY ALL IN THERE THAT'S A TERRIBLE IDEA

THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A PRISON RIOT

B15 NO YOU CAN'T TRUST THEM

They're for sure gonna go for it AND THEN TURN ON YOU WHEN IT'S TIME

NO THAT'S THEIR PLACE

Lord please don't kiss

Loki you're doing great sweetie please don't try to kiss her

LOKI STOP I'M GONNA WRITE A POEM IF YOU KEEP SPITTING WISDOM

SYLVIE YOU'VE SEEN WIZARD OF OZ??!!

Don't you DARE FUCKING kiss her

Oh thank god

FUCK YOU RENSLAYER

FUCK OFF BITCH

BRAD THAT'S A BOLD FACE LIE

MINUTES GO FUCK YOURSELF (Timely's not gonna do it, after all)

EEEWWW

MINUTES YOU FUCKING BITCH YOU'RE SMILING THAT'S DISGUSTING

BRAD YOU BETTER TURN ON A BITCH

THE TEMPAD ISN'T WORKING??!!

This is weird

WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS WEIRD SHIT

BRAD YOU MOTHER FUCKER DON'T! FUCK

MOBIUS WHAT DID YOU PLAY? I BET IT WAS CANDY CRUSH AND AMONG US

FUCKING HELL I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH FUCK THIS

TIMELY OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD SYLVIE

FUCK MY BRAIN IS MOVING FAST AND GOD I HATE IT I KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN I PAUSED IT

SO IT MIGHT NOT HAPPEN TILL NEXT WEEK BUT: So they're separated, Sylvie gets up, pries open the elevator doors in time to see past Loki get pruned but thinks it's current Loki. And she's very upset about it. Then current Loki shows up and they reunite and she kisses him for real this time. GOD PLEASE NO I'M GONNA BE NERVOUS FOR THE NEXT SEVENTEEN MINUTES MINUS WHENEVER THAT HAPPENS.

ON THE OTHER HAND IF YOU JUST HUG HIM I CAN HANDLE THAT

THERE'S PAST LOKI SHIT HERE WE GO

ELEVATOR BROKEN. I MIGHT START CRYING PREMATURELY

IF I GET THIS RIGHT I'M GONNA BE SHOCKED I NEVER PREDICT THINGS RIGHT EVEN IF THEY'VE BEEN HEAVILY FORESHADOWED.

I DON'T WANT THIS TO BE THE MOMENT I CHECK OFF THAT BINGO SQUARE PLEASE NO

SYLVIE GOOD GIRL OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO SMART THIS IS WHY YOU ARE THE SUPERIOR VARIANT

WAIT WE STILL DON'T KNOW WHO'S ON THE PHONE THOUGH

WAIT PAUSED AGAIN. WAS I ORIGINALLY RIGHT, DOES FUTURE LOKI PRUNE PAST LOKI? OKAY EVERYTHING ABOUT MY PREDICTION IS THE SAME EXCEPT SHE'S ONLY UPSET UNTIL PAST BOI DISAPPEARS BECAUSE CURRENT BOI IS RIGHT THERE. OKAY PRESSING PLAY AGAIN

RIPPING OPEN THE DOOR, CURRENT LOKI WITH PRUNE STICK Y'ALL AS SOON AS I FIGURED OUT HE ACTUALLY GOT PRUNED FROM BEHIND I SAID IT WAS LOKI

DO IT LOKI MOBIUS NEEDS YOU

OH RIGHT YOU NEED TO SEE SYLVIE RIGHT. I forgot you understood this shit better than I do.

There's a guy in another apartment yelling ARGH, and that's a BIG MOOD right now dude lol.

"I promise you this will make sense." You're killing me Loki PLEASE DON'T KISS HER

ANSWER THE PHONE

STOP YELLING RANDOM DUDE IN MY BUILDING, EVERYTHING'S OKAY (FOR NOW)

FUCK YES DO IT, OB

ALSO THANK GOD NO KISS YET

This man is still yelling and it's been like 3-5 minutes.

I AGREE WITH LOKI AND SYLVIE LOL

YEAH DIE BITCH

OH SHIT I WAS GONNA FUCKING SAY NOT AGAIN BUT SHE SAID HER PIECE HOLY SHIT

GET HIM

YES

YES FUCKING DIE

Thanks V

TELL HIM LOKI

NO TIMELY I WANT LOKI TO TELL MOBIUS AND I DON'T TRUST YOU THAT MUCH

AND LOKI'S FOR SURE A FASTER RUNNER

I DON'T LIKE THAT WE THINK WE'RE GONNA FIGURE OUT-- FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

OH NO

NOOOOOOOOO IT'S THE SHOT NOOOOOOOO

WAIT WAIT DID HE TIME SLIP OR TURN INTO BLACK HOLE SPAGHETTI [Pretty sure it's the second one]

wait. Why are there pictures of the episode including the last scene in the files at the TVA? (I know it's the credits but I'm choosing to accept it as canon)

It all comes down to Brad I guess??

I. Need to go like. Stare at a wall for a little bit or something.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

AilessWhumptober 23 - 2 Overworked/ Exhaustion

Encore 4/5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Ironically, this is the one where our pianist is taking is a (relative) short break, so no tw.

Oh well yes, there's a tiny murder attempt. Small potatoes.

***

“Wake up, sir ! You have to wake up !”

The pianist had no wish to do so. In fact, he was rather inclined to never stop sleeping. Waking up was facing off-key bells that damaged his hearing, an empty coffin that was meant for him sooner or later, and a cold, haughty presence that he’d learned to fear despite himself.

But that voice was not the count’s, and the hands that brushed his cheeks were soft. He opened an eye. A maid was looking at him with a pleading expression. He knew her. She was one of the servants who were usually present while their master was hurting him. He recoiled and she immediately did the same.

“Forgive me sir, but it’s important. The count sent me to bring you the music sheet you’ve asked. Please, you have to hurry !”

“Why is that, miss ? He will kill me. It doesn’t matter if I do this for him. I’ll play for my funeral.”

“Don’t give up on hope just yet, sir. He lied to you. Here, drink.”

She offered him a cup that he emptied in a gulp. His stomach curled up, but he was able to keep the water in. After some deep breaths, he asked:

“What do you mean, he lied to me ?”

He turned his head. The door of his prison was open, and other servants listened, including the two guards who were used to man-handle him. One of them cleared his throat:

“ The count did indeed lie about the night when you came here, sir, but he wasn’t believed as much as he wished. People are looking for you. It’s only a matter of time before they ask to enter the castle.”

“He was furious,” whispered the maid. “We’ve never seen him like this. When he went back yesterday, he ordered us to take the coffin he had ordered for himself to the bell tower. We were sure he was going to kill you, but the challenge you’ve proposed saved your life. Oh I beg of you, you need to stall him ! It’s not fair for you to die like this.”

“If that’s what you think, if that’s what you all think – then help me to escape !”

One of the tall men shook his head.

“We can’t, sir. You have no idea what he will do to us. People care about your disappearance, but they won’t care about our death.”

“Not one of us want to harm you,” whispered the maid. “You are in all our prayers, but we can’t do much. We don’t dare. Our families are under his thumb. Please forgive us.”

“I can’t do much myself, miss.”

“He cares more about piano than his own life. If anyone can distract him, it’s you.”

The pianist bowed his head, closed his eyes, and took the music sheet.

“Bless you, sir,” she sighed. “Are you even able to write with your poor hand ?”

“I can write with both.”

“Good. He’s gone until the evening, so we won’t touch these dreadful bells, and we’ll give you as much food and water as you need. The rest depends on you.”

He avidly drank and ate what she offered him, and only then began his work. He had lied to the count, too. He’d already tried to write a Winter piano version, just for pleasure, and he remembered most of it; but it was in the past, when he still had two intact hands. Today he had to take into account he only had his left one and a couple of fingers. The little one was broken, the ring finger was bound to it, the middle finger wouldn’t be able to move that much. He could push some keys with the index and play with his thumb normally.

That would force him to play with his hands crossed for most of the piece, with the left doing the work of the right, but unlike Islamey, that was doable, and the thought alone was exhilarating.

It was hard work, but it felt good. Sweat dripped on his forehead and more than once he’d thrown out one of his drafts into the coffin, but at least that kind of anger and frustration were normal. By the end, he’d nearly forgot about the count, and only the fact that he was writing on the ground and not on the table reminded him where he was. He could do it. The whole would sound widely different than the original version, but that was what you got when you forced a one-handed-and-a-half pianist to work out something in a day. He asked if he could train once or twice on the piano, and the servants hesitated, but he swore he wouldn’t try to escape. He didn’t want to anymore. Not before doing what he had to do. At his relief, the piano was still in-tune and made by a decent manufacturer. He used the metronome by the fall board to make sure he could keep the tempo. It was huge, with a specially long inverted pendulum rod, and he manipulated it dreamily before putting it away.

Putting his chin on his valid hand to think some more, he fell asleep. When he opened his eyes again, he was back on the silent tower and was secretly grateful for not having to climb the stairs to his prison himself. For the first time since long, he had food in his stomach and his throat was not sore anymore. He felt very fine and decided for another nap instead of working on his music. His rest didn’t last long, though. A kick in his ribs informed him that the count was back. He raised his head to see to see that his captor was fuming, staring him down.

“I see you employ your working time well.”

The pianist didn’t answer. He only sat up, massaging gently his ribs. The count made a brief sign of the head toward the sheets around him:

“Is your masterpiece done ?”

“I did what I could.”

“Well, let’s see what it’s worth. Stand up.”

The young man didn’t obey at once. He looked around, puzzled. The servants weren’t there, and the coffin was nowhere to be seen.

“After you.”

The pianist stepped out of his prison, a little hesitantly. Then, in a flash, he understood why he was the first to climb down the stairs, and he rushed to press his back against the wall, his eyes wide. The count, who still had his hand held out, recoiled and smirked.

“Well, go ahead.”

Taking a deep breath, the pianist looked at him, then at the ground, and hurried to climb down the stairs as fast as he could, terrified at the idea of being pushed and breaking more bones. He nearly threw himself into the arms of the two guards, who waited for him at the exit and grabbed him as usual. Their faces reflected nothing.

“He tried to kill me,” he whispered. “Again. It doesn’t make sense if he wants me to play.”

“He does want to hear you”, answered one of them in the same tone. “But maybe he wants you to lose even more.”

“He’s suspected, sir. It makes him mad. Be careful.”

“Isn’t that easy for you to say,” retorted the pianist, a sour taste in the mouth.

*

Sequel and end : Part 5

[lavalampstealer]

Uh I oh HI uh people keep tagging me in games /pos

TY @agent-calivide for the Song Game (is that what its called)! I don’t use Spotify so I cannot do the shuffle thing sadly 😔 however- I will sprinkle my wildly inconsistent music on you nonetheless

I will say, I have had really bad brainrot for the past few months, so these all have a TSP or IEYTD tie-in :]

1. This Side of Paradise - Coyote Theory If I were to make an animation of this it would have a winged person running towards the edge of cliff, besting their wings and nearly taking off. Once the drums drop out and the chorus starts, they’re in open air and soaring on an updraft. Once the drums return they’re back on the ground, nighttime this time, running to take off again with the starlight around them, but this time they’re more sure and take off easier. They can do loops in the air and truly soar. During the guitar solo part, they’re skimming the tops of trees and slowly going back towards the ground to do a half running half flying landing and they end up tumbling over and looking up at the moon, smile on their face. I plan to do this sometime, once I figure out how to draw/animate wings, like for a future college project or wip to add to my (albeit empty) portfolio.

2. rises the moon - Liana Flores ok so I’ve had major brainrot for my fic despite it pretty much existing as just a concept in my head and this song. this song is so. its so Handler comforting Phoenix because they are Not Okay after Death Engine

3. RISK, RISK, RISK! - Jhariah No consistency here, but this one is a) a banger and b) reminds me so much of Juniper. Him wanting a change, wanting more, gambling everything he has just to get just a little bit more and “put more behind [his] name”

4. The Lamp Is Low - Laurindo Almeida this is just so Yellow core to me I can’t explain it. Him with a glass of iced scotch in a cozy armchair reading a book with only a nearby lamp as lighting. Also he can’t sit normally /silly

5. Bleached - Video Days good god I’ve listened to this on repeat so many times. So many fictitious scenarios. It just screams Comfort Fic™️, it’s what I put on when I work on Down to Earth

6. Left Bank Two - The Noveltones I’ve accidentally left this on loop while doing homework. Also this is so Sheen core you cant change my mind. no thoughts going on in that head. Paint smears everywhere, little trails down hallways and smudges on door handles and whatnot

7. Notion - The Rare Occasions something about Phoenix looking back on their life and how they don’t just fear death; it’s a game. A window. If they die, oh well, at least they’re guaranteed to go out in a blaze of glory (“I see a window, a limit, to live it, or not at all”). Also them struggling with the weight of being The Phoenix when all they wanted to do was be a secret agent. secret (“Sure it’s a calming notion, perpetual in motion, but it’s not what you signed up for”)

8. Nuestra Canción - Monsieur Periné oh thank god one without a meaning /j its just such an upbeat and silly song !! :] v Cyan core to me, they’re silly like that. Like them and Yellow being on an upbeat walk when they find a flower field and drag him into it. dancing together all goofy bc they have 4 left feet between the two, just having a true day off. no stress. no worry. free from the pressure and able to just be light for a day. Things might not get better, but its the moment that counts

9. Debt Collector - Jhariah GOD I know it doesn’t really fit Cyan but this is such a Phoenix song. Like I see a lot with some kind of criminal background or something from before the EOD, and this just seems like Phoenix running from their past and memories. I will admit, I need to work on Cyan’s backstory, all I have so far is that they were a beginner car mechanic and chronic tinkerer

10. Whose Eye Is It Anyway??? - Jhariah ok this one started as a Phoenix song but now this is just so Broken Juniper to me. Him surviving Rising Phoenix and not even ranting or cursing or pleading with Phoenix, it’s just him venting about how it’s an eye for an eye and he got what he deserved but he didn’t deserve it. “This path of heart attacks is paved with folks who only gave their enemies what they had coming. I don’t know if it’s worth it // I’m reeling from all of the pain, I feel it making me insane” and, “Is it a knife or a lie? Is it in your back? Is it all I need? Is it all I have? Bring me the peace that I need so desperately?” yeah. I could go on but. this would be an essay and I am eepy

Keeping it going!! /nf @purple-to-my-tangerine and @eyesofrhodochrosite hiii hope yall dont mind the pings :]

[random-bi-writer]

Six Analysis, Part 4

Rewatching playthroughs, reading comics, looking through deleted concept and achievements to analyze Six, and maybe even figure out the things that’s been bugging me about her.

Part 1 = https://random-bi-writer.tumblr.com/post/706220575341821952/six-analysis-part-1

Part 2 = https://random-bi-writer.tumblr.com/post/706314444114886656/six-analysis-part-2

Part 3 = https://random-bi-writer.tumblr.com/post/706492122017267712/six-analysis-part-3

Fourth thing to check is the first game.

Chapter 1

Right, vision dreams are still a thing. Forgot about that, but now that I’m looking at it closely. There were black mist in the dream.

Oh my god, I didn’t think about this until now. Six is always helping Mono open the doors since the handle is too high for them, but now that Mono is gone, Six doesn’t have anyone to support to, she has too use chairs to open doors now. What the hell, this game is making me more attached than before.

Even the levers, Six always helped Mono with those, but now she can’t. I am going to cry, this game is making me sick in the head.

Oh. So the eye light things activated once Six entered the room. Didn’t notice that before, do these things have sensors or something?

Okay, first hunger and the singing thing didn’t happen but the flickering lights did.

If Six turns to stone, black mist will leave her body.

Oh my god, I hate bridges thanks to LN2.

First door that Six has to open while throwing something, and the object is a monkey toy. Mono means monkey in spanish, I swear the developers are doing this on purpose now.

Second hunger and this is where the singing starts, so what makes the first different?

Speaking off, there are two possible reasons Six ate the meat in the cage: She either doesn’t know that children are being cooked yet or if we’re going to the fact that the Hunter is a weird dad to her, the Hunter taught her to recognize animal skin.

Child stop getting distracted, especially if the monster in front of you is the Janitor.

Huh, I wonder that scene reminded her of the Craftsman.

Also, this scene is Six’s first clue of children are being cooked.

Is it just me, or does the Janitor encounter in the clock room is similar to the Monster Six boss fight?

Now that I think about it, Six and the Janitor are kind of similar in a way.

Even if the player is moving Six, she’s still expressive. Little kid keeps looking back as she walks.

The- the animation Six has when she’s looking up the door where she can’t reach the handle- this game is killing me.

If I didn’t know any better, I say that the Maw is trying to communicate with Six. Considering the sound effects so far.

Chapter 2-4 (my analysis on these chapters were pretty short, so I combined them.)

Six, buddy, stop looking at the enemy while you’re being chased.

The sausage room was probably the reason why Six knew what happened to the children here.

One thing I noticed about the enemies Six faces in her game is that they’re all abnormally fast like her.

If everyone got stressed from playing when trying to escape the guests, imagine how Six felt.

The dining room could have made Six knew about the cannibal restaurant thing as well.

I might have to rewatch a playthrough of Secrets of the Maw because the Lady seems to recognize Six.

Six, probably: Hmm, scary lady’s room has broken mirrors everywhere. But is this one locked up and unbroken? Is this mirror bad? Better use it then.

The Lady is also using the mist power thing Six has.

Okay, last hunger scene but there was no singing this time.

With the way Six looks back to the camera makes me think that she knows that someone’s there.

The ending will always be awesome, go you little funky blorbo, slay them and be a badass.

Okay but seriously, as beautiful as this is, it’s also depressing.

Six’s entire journey from all the games is her trying to live with kindness through everyone she meets, and where did that get her?

Betrayed and hurt over and over again, Six is slowly losing a reason to be kind and to feel alive. All Six could think now is that she has to survive. All she could think is that she was doing something wrong and she has to change it if she wants to stay alive.

The world broke Six.

Because in her mind-

Kindness will be her undoing.

[reimagining-twilight]

Prologue Part One -Bella

See end for notes-

The sky is still dark at 4:30 am in Phoenix, Arizona and the stars look down on me. I smile up at them. They’re the only things I don't mind staring at me because they stare at everybody. To them, we’re all weird.

“Are you ready, Mom?” I shout down the hall. I’m the one getting ready to move out of state and I have to ask if she’s ready. I’m not resentful. I love my mother just how she is, and this is just how she is.

“Almost,” she shouts back. I sigh and go to help Phil load my two pitiful bags into the car.

At last Mom joins us in the driveway. She’s smiling but her eyes are red and slightly wet. Oh no!  I can’t handle the waterworks today, but she doesn’t cry.  She just opens the door for me. I thank her and begin to close the door but she stops me climbing into the back.

We ride down our street in silence then finally Mom breaks the silence. “Here,” she takes a blanket looking thing from her bag, “this is the parka we ordered.  It came today and here is an extra brace.” She hands me the puffy jacket and the blue brace identical to the black one on my left wrist. I don’t know what to say. Why is she being the parent now?

When we get to the airport it’s Mom who unloads the bags this time. I hug her goodbye and head off toward airport security. It’s a Wednesday so the lines aren’t too long. I feel only a few gazes on me which are easily contradicted by the music from my headphones and before I know it it’s my turn to put my bags in a tub. The small suitcase and satchel fit easily, then slowly I remove my headphones. Nobody is staring at you, nobody is staring at you, nobody is even looking at you but my heart still clenches with worry. What if they think I’m weird? Why are they looking at me. Is something wrong with me? (Yes I know it’s irrational that I’m worried about what opinions people I’ll probably never see again have of me, but I can’t help it.)

I place my headphones in the tub and start to put it through the X-Ray tunnel thingy when it catches on something.

“Hey, Miss, does that have any metal in it?” The attendant who grabbed my tub asks, gesturing with long red nails at my brace.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. I have to think for a Moment. “Uh-Uh-Umm, Yes.”

“Okay, well then you gotta put it in your tub. No exceptions,” she says in a stern yet kind voice. People are definitely staring now as I unclip and slide off my brace. I hastily chuck it in and run as slowly as I can through the metal detector to the safety of the other side. I flex my wrist. The brace is a precaution at this point. I haven't broken my wrist in over two months but it still feels weird to be without it.

Slowly I begin to turn my arm, then stop. No. No. No. I can’t do this right now. I have to keep it together. When I see my tub come through the machine I practically shove my brace back on. I gather my stuff, careful not to grab the tub, and run to gate T-12.

I planned it perfectly so I have no time to dwell on people’s stares and just as I’m approaching they call for Economy Class to board Flight 714 to Washington State. I grimace goodbye to the sun and step on.

NOTES: I will do a prologue for Jasper’s pov but I’m working on other chapters so it will most likely come a bit later.

The brace will be explained very soon, I promise.

[errata-of-the-stars]

First Days in Milano!

Hello all! As of now, I have been in Milano for five days just settling in, meeting housemates, attending orientation for classes upcoming, and exploring the city. It has been a great time learning about the different histories and cultures in the surrounding area and being able to freely walk and take transit everywhere.

Day 0

When I landed on Day 0, I was definitely overwhelmed. Getting off the plane around noon here, I was filled with adrenaline that had staved off feelings of jetlag for a few days. I was immediately taken on a tour around my apartment building where I learned about the meticulous trash sorting system, and saw all of those little quirks of being in an older building like this one. For starters, the door handle inside the apartment entirely broke and fell off when my guide unlocked the door for the first time. There are a few other small inconveniences that have yet to be fixed like the dishwasher being out of use for now, one of the patio doors being entirely broken and permenantly locked, the creaking floors, thin walls, and cabinets that will never quite close correctly.

Being the first person in this apartment, I was able to settle in at my own pace, unpack my bags without added stress or time restriction, and rest from the long flight in a peaceful environment.

After much needed rest, I met one of the other girls from the other apartment being taken care of by my study abroad company. She had come with her mom two weeks prior and had explored parts of the city already, so they showed me to the local supermarket and explained how things like transit worked in the city.

Day 1

First day in Milan, I would say it went pretty well. I met the rest of the girls from the other apartment to travel to the study abroad office together. For my first time riding transit in this city, it was easier than I expected to be able to get around. Our study abroad team gave us a short orientation introduction and then took us to see the top of the Duomo, the large church in the city. The views there were incredible, and the detail and scale of everything was so pristine- you could really tell that the people of the city really cared about its upkeep and appearance.

After the Duomo, we returned to the study abroad office to wait out the rain until lunch. The rain here sure is something else. It comes and goes quickly and harshly.

Lunch was at Slow Sud, serving appetizers, main course, and dessert based in Southern Italian cuisine. The food, though delicious, had lots of eggplant that wasn't cooked to the texture I prefer. The meal was ended off with delicious cannoli, so all was well. We headed off to run errands afterward and then to rest for the afternoon in our apartments.

We all met later that night to play games and finish our leftovers. It was a great time getting to know all of the girls!

Day 2

I had my first day of orientation at Cattolica this day, and it was a long day of touring the campus, routing to buildings, and learning a lot about my upcoming semester!

Later this night, I went with the girls to a Japanese Brazilian fusion restaurant for dinner and then to walk along the canal to people watch.

Day 3

Second day of orientation- oh boy, I realized just how intensive that this two week pre-session intensive course would be. I've got 3.5-5 hours of learning italian for these two week starting on Monday, 9am to 1:30pm.

After that stressful day, I took a long rest, staying home for the night, ordering pizza, and watching Earwig and the Witch on Italian Netflix. (The movie is pretty good, and the music in it is even better- by the way)

Day 4

Today is a sorting out day for me. Sorting out little problems, sorting out classes, sorting out my room. I hope to maybe take some time to find a fun shop or at least walk around a while.

See you all again soon!

[themanyadventures0fknb]

SURVEYWORLD 152.

1. First thing you wash in the shower? HAIR.

2. Are you more of a coffee or alcohol drinker? NEITHER ACTUALLY.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? ABSOLUTELY.

4. Do you plan outfits? AS OF LATELY, YES.

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now? - RELAXED.

6. Whats the closest thing to you thats red? - BIRTHSTONE ON MY RING.

7. What would you do if you opened your door and saw a dead body? - PROBABLY FREAK OUT A BIT.

8. Tell me about the last dream you remember having? - UMM WELL … IT WAS A BAD ONE REALLY … BEING FORCED TO GO DOWN ON A GUY WHO KIDKNAPPED ME. YEAH, HORRIBLE.

9. Three of your current feelings? - RELAXED, CONTENT AND A BIT BORED.

10. What are you craving right now? - MONEY. ;D

11. Turn ons? - OH GOSH. TALL GUYS, NICE ARMS AND HANDS, SENSITIVE AND ROMANTIC GUYS(but I’ve got my tall man with nice arms and hands who can be romantic and spontaneous at times) ;D

12. Turn offs? - LACK OF COMMUNICATION, FAKE TWO-FACED PEOPLE, ARROGANT AND MANIPULATIVE PEOPLE and SELF-CENTERED PEOPLE.

13. What comes to mind when I say cabbage? - STUFFED CABBAGE (LOVE MY POLISH NATIONALITY).

14. When was the last time you cried? LAST THURSDAY BECAUSE OF MY BOSS WHO LITERALLY MADE ME MAD THE WAY SHE TALKED TO ME ABOUT APPLYING TO A JOB OPPORTUNITY WITHIN THE COMPANY I WORK FOR.

15. If you could be a superhero, who would you want to be? - ROSIE THE RIVETER (World War 2 Poster Child).

16. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? - WELL IF YOU COUNT “I DON’T RECALL SAYING SOMETHING LIKE BUT IF I DID, THEN I AM SORRY.” THEN I GUESS SO…

17. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it? - LICK IT FOR A WHILE AND THEN BITE INTO IT.

18. Favorite movie ever? - THE WIZARD OF OZ AND BACK TO THE FUTURE TRILOGY MOVIES.

19. Do you like yourself? - YES I DO.

20. Have you ever met a celebrity? - I’VE MET A FEW. Linda Blair is one that comes to mind (the girl who played Regan in The Exorcist film.

21. Could you handle being in the military? - PROBABLY NOT.

22. What are you listening to right now? - THE QUIETNESS IN MY VEHICLE.

23. How many countries have you visited? - 2 THE BAHAMAS AND CANADA.

24. Are your parents strict? - NOT AT ALL.

25. Would you go sky diving? - YES.

26. Would you go out to eat with a stranger? - A STRANGER? NOPE.

27. Whats on your mind right now? - MY FUTURE.

28. Is there anything you want to say to someone? - NO.

29. Have you ever been in a castle? - I BELIEVE I HAVE.

30. Do you rent movies often? - NO.

31. Whats your zodiac sign? - AQUARIUS ♒️

32. When was the last time you had sex? - SUNDAY MORNING. :D

33. Name five facts about yourself. - 1) I LOVE ADVENTURES AND THRILLS, 2) I LOVE ALL ANIMALS, ESPECIALLY DOGS & CATS, 3) I LOVE NATURE AND BEING OUTSIDE, 4) I AM AN IDENTICAL TWIN, 5) SCIENCE IS MY FAVORITE SUBJECT.

34. Ever had a near death experience? YEAH. WHEN I WAS IN 1ST GRADE, MY SISTER PUSHED ME OFF THE TOP OF A SLIDE. I FELL TO THE PADDED, RUBBER MAT AND SHE COULDN’T WAKE ME UP. IT TOOK MY MOM 20 MINUTES TO WAKE ME UP. (I TOLD MY SISTER TO SIT AT THE TOP AND DO NOT COME DOWN because I was the smarter twin knowing I could fall over the slide LOL BUT SHE STARTED TO COME DOWN THE SLIDE ANYWAY AND OVER I WENT). Yes, I had a black and blue eye as well as a broken wrist

35. Do you believe in karma or predestiny? - KARMA, sure.

36. Brown or white eggs? - NO DIFFERENCE IN MY BOOK. NOWADAYS, WHATEVER THE MOST AFFORDABLE EGGS ARE.

37. Do you own something from Hot Topic? - I HAVEN’T SHOPPED AT A HOT TOPIC IN A WHILE SO PROBABLY NOT.

38. Ever been on a train? - YES! I’VE GONE 15 HOURS FROM JERSEY TO SOUTH CAROLINA ON AMTRACK, NORTH EAST CORRIDOR DOWN TO THE SHORE AND PLENTY OTHER TIMES.

39. Ever been in love? - YES AND CURRENTLY AM.

40. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you do it? - AS LONG AS MY PARENTS AND SISTER WERE THERE WITH ME (because they love ghost hunting) YESSS!

41. If you could trade places with any person living or dead, who would you trade places with? - SOMEONE WHO HAS WON THE LOTTERY, maybe.

42. If you could shorten your life expectancy by 10 years to becopme more attractive, would you do it? - NAH, IM GOOD.

43. Whom do you admire and why? - MY MOTHER BECAUSE SHE’S KIND, CARING, LOVING, NURTURING. SHE HAS MADE ME THE WOMAN I AM TODAY.

44. What was your favorite bedtime story as a child? - I DON’T KNOW IF I HAD ONE BUT I ALWAYS LOVED SINGING TWINKLE, TWINKLE LITTLE STAR. HAHA.

45. You’re walking down the street, you come across a burning building. A woman says her baby is trapped inside, what would you do? - WELL IF IM ACROSS THE STREET, I WONT BE CROSSING AND IF IM ON THE SIDE OF THE BURNING BUILDING ILL BE CROSSING OVER WELL BEFORE I COULD REACH THE BURNING BUILDING.

46. If you could choose the future profession of your son or daughter, would you? - NO. I WOULD RATHER THEM CHOOSE WHAT IT IS THEY WOULD LIKE TO PURSUE.

47. What was your best experience on drugs or alcohol? - NONE! WHEN I GOT DRUNK I WAS SICK FOR LIKE TWO DAYS TO FOLLOW. AWFUL!

48. What was your worst experience on drugs or alcohol? - NONE ^^ SEE ABOVE.

50. As your walking down the street you find a suitcase full of money sitting next to a parked car, would you take it? - NOT SURE.

51. If you found that a close friend has AIDS, would you still hang out with them? I DID AND YES WE CONTINUED TO HANG OUT.

52. In front of you are 10 pistols, 5 of which are loaded. If you survive you’d receive 100 million dollars. Would you be willing to place 1 to your head and pull the trigger? - THIS SOME CRAZY SAW SHIT, NO. LOL.

53. How old were you when you lost your virginity? - 19?

54. Do you believe in ghosts, werewolves or vampires? - GHOSTS, yes.

55. If you could live forever, would you want to? - MAYBE WHEN I WAS GROWING UP IN THE 90S BUT NOW, NAH.

56. Which fictional movie character most resembles who you are? - NOT SURE.

57. If you could go back in time, which time period would you visit? - 1940s-1970s.

58. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? - NOPE.

59. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? - NO THANKS.

60. If you could choose the sex of your unborn child, would you want to? - MAYBE.

61. Would you rather live longer or be wealthy? - BE WEALTHY.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Scratches

Kinktober Day 4: Acarophilia (scratching)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Words: ~1.3k

Summary: Bucky just wants you to mark him up.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, rough sex, marking), grumpy Bucky, mentions of ruining architecture and furniture with super soldier strength, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I mean, I just really want to scratch him up. That’s all.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

There were times Bucky really hated being a super soldier.

Most of the time, the accelerated healing and additional strength was nothing but a bonus. He was great to have in a fight, and could normally bounce back from any injury within a week.

But his relationship with you had really brought out the drawbacks in his unique situation.

It had taken months of you assuring him you weren’t going to break for the two of you to finally move past your oral only stage, much to your mutual frustration. And even then, it was another couple of months before he actually felt like he wasn’t constantly having to focus on holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you, at least in a way you weren’t ok with.

Now though, the two of you had finally reached a natural and almost comfortable rhythm. It had only taken a few broken bed frames and a couple of buckled columns in the compound for him to get a handle on the super soldier strength, and some uncomfortable conversations with Tony about what exactly had caused the damage in the first place. But he could lose himself in you completely now without having to worry about damaging you or the architecture, and he was taking full advantage of that fact.

There was still one major drawback that he had never even considered. He wanted you to mark him up.

You wanted it too. Every time the two of you got even a little nasty your claws came out, digging into his scalp or dragging across his thighs until sharp red welts decorated his skin in a pattern that made him want to fuck you until you were screaming. But then they disappeared after a few hours and he got all pouty, annoying the shit out of Steve and Sam whenever he’d see them the next day.

He was back from a particularly stressful mission, and he was as ready to either punch a wall or let you fuck him until both of you passed out.

“Hey Buck… whoa.” You sucked in a breath when you turned around and saw him starting to strip in a frenzy while he growled under his breath. “Mission not go well?”

“Sam and Steve are both fucking morons, I don’t wanna talk about it.” He finally got all the straps of his jacket undone and ripped it off, working on his fly as he gazed at you with list blown pupils. “Take your fucking dress off.”

“No foreplay, then?” Your smile was a little teasing as you pulled your dress over your head, a squeal leaving you when he suddenly charged you and picked you up to bury his face in your tits.

“Do you need foreplay, doll?” He gazed at you through his lashes as he nipped over the curve of your breasts gently. “‘Cause I could smell you as soon as I walked through the door.”

“Yeah? Well I missed you.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and smiled when he groaned at the feeling of your nails scraping over his scalp. “Tell me what you need, Bucky.”

“Need you.” He pulled back so he could rip off his henley, purring when you curled your hand around his throat and squeezed softly. “Mark me up, doll. Want you to make me bleed.”

“Buck, you sure? Oh!” Your body bowed backwards when he thrust into you with no warning, gripping his biceps and whining when he started fucking into you wildly.

“I’m sure.” He moved his face back to yours and pulled at your lips with his own. “Wanna show everyone who I fucking belong to.”

You beamed at him and nipped at the curve of your jaw as you wrapped your arms around his back, rolling your hips to meet his and moving your mouth back to his so you could swallow his moan when your nails pierced his flesh. He whimpered when you dragged them down his back, slamming his hips into you in a frenzy and shaking with pleasure when he felt a thin trickle of blood run down his spine.

“This what you wanted, baby?” You traced his lips with your tongue and watched closely as he fell apart for you, his breathing frantic and desperate as he clutched at your waist.

“Yes, fuck.” He groaned at the catch in your breath when he hit you deep, resting his forehead against yours and kissing you hard while he rolled until you were on top of him. “Wanna feel you everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Your grin was wicked as you nipped at his tongue when he swept it between your lips, giving him one last kiss before you sat up over him as your hips ground against his nice and slow.

“Everywhere. You can do whatever you want to me, doll.” He pressed his lips to your palm when you cupped his jaw gently, gazing reverently at you while your other hand trailed over his chest. “I’m all yours.”

“That’s right, you are.” You leaned back and placed your hands on his thighs, digging your nails into the thick muscle and sighing when he bucked into you with a sharp gasp. “My good boy.”

He whimpered at the praise, grabbing your hips and holding you still while his hips moved wildly underneath yours. The feel of you dragging your nails across his skin while letting him take what he needed was everything to him, every muscle in his body quivering with the strain of holding his pleasure back until he felt you come.

You jolted forward when he drove into you harder, catching yourself on his chest and growling through clenched teeth as he sought out your sweet spot. He knew right when he found it, the way you tossed your head back and sucked in a harsh breath as you sank your claws into his chest and drew sharp red, trenches in his skin.

Bucky swore when you vibrated around him, driving himself as deep as possible and holding you down as your pussy clenched around him in waves. He was right behind you, his body arching off the bed as he shot thick ropes of cum into your quivering heat.

Both of you collapsed into the bed once you had ridden it out, Bucky’s chest heaving underneath you as you panted into his neck. You purred when he wound his arms around your waist, curling your knee over his hip and tracing the metal plates in his arm lazily with your blood stained fingertips while you gazed up at him.

“Was that what you wanted, baby?” You pressed your lips to the underside of his jaw as you snuggled closer to him.

“Sure was.” He smiled at you and kissed your forehead softly, wincing when he got a look at the small red stains that were now covering your bed. “Sorry about your sheets.”

“It’s fine.” You grinned at him when he rolled the two of you until you were laying on your sides, his arm wrapped around you to hold you close as he nuzzled into your hair. “I am looking forward to explaining to Tony why I need replacements, though.”

————————————————————————

Bucky was finally in a good mood when he met Sam and Steve at the training gym in the morning. Even with his accelerated healing, he was still wearing thin red welts all over his skin from where you marked him up.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Steve was eyeing him warily as he got changed. After the shitshow of a mission yesterday, he had been fully prepared to deal with his best friend being a cranky bitch today.

“No reason.” He just shrugged at Steve and pulled off his henley, ignoring his eye roll when he got a look at the sharp red marks that covered his torso. “Just slept really good.”

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere RE8: TRP Part 4

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Part 5 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"Uhh... hello?"

You looked at the woman standing in the stairs. She was wearing a dark veil that matched the rest of her outfit- oh shit, that's a funeral outfit.

I really did pick a bad time to come here, didn't I? She's in mourning, she sees an intruder, and her day went from bad to worst. Yep, she's gonna kill me.

You took one look at the woman and then at all the possible exits: the doors- no, they'd be too heavy to move and what if they're locked? The window- but I'd have to jump out and just because it looks cool in movies to jump through glass, doesn't mean it'll work, Y/n.

So, the only option was to eliminate the threat. Or maybe... defuse it.

"This is your doll, right?" You asked, pointing at the doll, judging by the lace designs on both of their dresses. The woman didn't reply. "It looks like its been... used a lot. To be honest, she's very different than most dolls I've seen, definitely a lot more spookier." You nervously giggled, hoping she didn't mind. "But... she looks like she's been loved. A lot. Despite being broken from a lot of places, someone still took their time to fix her." You smiled sadly, remembering your own doll that Mia had ripped. "Wish I had someone like that. To sew up the wounds and fix them."You mumbled, not really sure if you were talking about your doll or yourself.

"Your doll, she's- she's very pretty. My sister would've liked her." You began. "Which is why I'm here. My family, we were in an accident- I know it was wrong of me to come here without permission, but I need to find my sister, Rose and my father, Ethan." You took a step closer. "They both of have blonde hair. Rose, my sister, she's just 6 months old. She was dressed in a baby pink onesie, bundled up in a blanket. My father, Ethan, he's about this tall and has big blue eyes. I think he was wearing a jacket, with blue denim jeans. H-have you seen them?" You asked, eyes full of hope and voice laced with eagerness.

Please, please let her have seen them. God, please.

Unsurprisingly, the woman didn't reply, but she did turn her head towards the left window. You didn't know whether she was telling you to get out of her house or signalling that they are out there, but you knew you had to leave.

Nodding, you slowly walked towards the window, your heart beating faster as you prayed that this wasn't some sort of trap, hoping she wouldn't attack you from behind because that would be like... really shitty.

But you left the house unharmed, and without looking back at the window because you didn't want to jinx it, you walked towards the forrest once again, thankful that the sun had finally came out.

Where are you guys?

You had been walking for a couple of hours now, the sun had been a bit warmer today, which was good since you hated the snow that surrounded you now. You looked at the map, tracing the path to your new destination. The Salvatore reservoir. It seemed like it would take you a day's journey to get there, and you sure as hell weren't seeing any lake in sight.

God, when will this nightmare end?

You decided to sit on a stone and take some much needed rest. Your feet ached from all the walking, and your calves were cramping. You rolled your head, popping it from the side, before taking off the rifle that had been weighing down, stretching out your arms. Digging through the little back pack you bought from Duke, you pulled out a thermos of coffee and twinkie. You don't know how or where he got it, but Duke had filled your bag with a couple of snacks; saying its for his loyal customer.

So, here you sat, in the middle of the snowy woods, eating a twinkie and drinking a lukewarm coffee. Both didn't taste good, but they're gonna keep you alive so, no complaining.

After drinking the coffee, you rested your head against a tree, recalling last nights events as you waited for the caffeine to kick in.

You tried to make sense of what happened when you got... locked in the basement. You thought you had forgotten about her, Angel. Guess not.

Wait- didn't that lady lock me in the basement? Maybe, she didn't look very hostile, her creepy doll looked scarier than she did.

You laughed at the irony. You always made fun of the horror movies where the family would become so attached to the most horrifying doll, and you'd scream at their stupidity, And yet here you were, falling for the cliche as you found comfort in that creepy doll.

Man, I'm really losing it here.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to come up with the next plan. But the warm coffee had lulled you right to sleep, which was dangerous but you were too tired to care.

Just for a couple of minutes...

You woke up to the sound of growling and heavy steps. And as soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you had definitely slept for far longer than a few minutes. But that was not of concern at the moment. No, it was the source of the growling that had woken you up.

Just about 40 feet away from you were lycans. Plural. Not one, not two, but 5 lycans, and one of them was a really big one.

You held your breath as you watched them wander around; they hadn't spotted you yet, and if you stayed quiet, you hoped they would just go away.

Stilling yourself as much as you could, you watched them with wide eyes. One of them started to walk in your direction, it wasn't looking at you, which meant that it hadn't seen you, but he would if he kept on walking this way.

God, I know we haven't been on good terms, but like c'mon, you gotta give me a break. Please, I love you? Come on, you know this is not how I want to go.

You sent a silent prayer, and perhaps it worked, since the lycan suddenly turned the other way, joining its pack as they started walking deeper into the woods.

Slowly, you began to gather up your things, silently shoving them in your bag, one eye on the lycans and the other one making sure that you don't accidentally drop something that'd cause noise.

Fortunately, you didn't. You swung the bag over your shoulder, and took a step forward, careful not to step on any twigs.

Maybe God did love me. All that time in church-

THWACK!

You jumped back as a huge sheet of snow fell from the trees in front of you. You whipped your head towards the monsters and they all had stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly, one of them turned and if they hadn't heard the snow fall, they'd definitely heard the way your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Then, it growled.

Motherfucker.

You pulled out your gun just as the two of them began running your way. With a quick jump to the side, you dodged them and shot them two times each. Hearing your gun fire, the other two began running your way too, while the larger one stayed behind as it watched. This time, as you shot one of them, the other managed to kick you in the chest hard, throwing you against the rock. Luckily, you didn't hit your head, as you rolled and shot it dead.

Spitting out the blood, you looked back at the last lycan who had already started running your way. You began loading up your gun with trembling hands, but just as you aimed, the lycan took a giant leap and knocked the gun out of your hand.

Fuck.

The giant grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up high before throwing you across the ground. You wheezed, scrambling up to your feet as you began running away from it, its heavy steps following you. It roared angrily behind you, and that only made you ignore the burning pain in your chest as you ran faster.

But of course, God had decided to make you live a cliche horror movie, because you tripped over a fucking branch, making you fall on your stomach. You flipped over instantly, and saw your nightmare come true as the lycan jumped on you.

On pure reflex, you punched it square in the face, which you doubted hurt it more than it hurt you, if anything, the monster was momentarily perplexed, but that was enough for you to slip from under it.

But you were only able to take a few steps away when it suddenly grabbed you by your neck and lifted you up again, snarling as it began opening its mouth, revealing its razor-sharp teeth at you.

God, if you're hearing this, I'm converting to atheism because I did not need this today.

Looking at the horrifying lycan, you prayed one last time before you were eaten by it. Surprisingly, your life did not flash before your eyes, which you were kinda grateful for because you did not need to relive that before your death.

But that moment didn't came. No, what came were familiar moans of pain, and then the sound of a drill, followed by blood splattering on your face as the lycan was sliced vertically from the head to the toe by the aforementioned drill.

The lycan fell to the ground, revealing the pair of soldats that killed them and behind them a smirking Heisenberg, who rested against a tree, tipping his hat at you.

You were far too shocked to say anything, and after a few seconds, the man walked over to you, blocking the view of his monstrous creations just mutilating the lycans.

"So... that was a bit traumatising." He started, chuckling at your stunned face. "You okay, kid?"

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck-

"Yeah." You took his hand, and he helped you up. You groaned at the pain, touching the tender side around the chest where the lycan had hit you. Yeah, you probably broke a rib.

Heisenberg helped you sit down on a tree stump. "Hmm, that bastard kicked you hard didn't it." Wait- "But that was a phenomenal punch you threw at it. Nearly made me burst out laughing."

"You were watching? Why the fuck didn't you come in before!"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you could really handle yourself- which you were pretty good at, but then you lost your gun and it was kinda an unfair match from there on." He pulled out some pills from his coat. "i was just passing by when I saw those lycans moving away. Thats when I pushed the tree which made snow sheet fall and you know the rest from there on."

Your eyes went wide. "You did that on purpose? What the shit, Heisenberg-?! Fuck." You doubled over in pain, clutching your ribs, heaving.

"Shh, stay still, kid. Here, take these. They'll help with the pain." You eyed the bottle before popping two in your mouth. Hey, if he wanted me dead, he wouldn't have saved me from the lycan. "I just wanted to see if you were worth the trouble, and as it turns out, you are."

"You didn't have to almost kill me to see that. And now I've lost my gun. And I don't have any money to buy a new one. I doubt Duke gives freebies." You huffed out.

Heisenberg rolled his eyes. "God, you sure do whine a lot. Here-" He dropped a tiny pouch in your lap. "There's some coins in there. That should be enough to buy you a new gun. And for fucks sake, get a gun with more rounds! You don't have time to be loading a gun mid battle." He huffed. "So, where are you going now?"

You rolled your head from side to side. "Well, I went to the Beneviento house. Didn't find Ethan or Rose there. Now, I'm going to the lake."

"The lake? Huh, well if you survived Donna, then Moreau should be a piece of cake. You got the map? Let me show you the short cut, it's not far from here." You gave him the map and he showed you the directions.

"Where are you going then?"

"Mother Miranda called. Don't worry, I'll keep our meeting a secret." He then nodded at you. "Alright, I'm off now."

"Wait!" Your voice stopped him. "I don't know when I'll see Duke again. And I don't have gun, so what if another pack of lycans come?"

Heisenberg slumped his shoulders as he let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine. I gotta do everything by myself." He dog whistled and one of the soldats stopped maiming the lycan and ran to Heisenberg. "From now on, you're gonna listen to her."The soldat looked at you and nodded. "If she tells you to kill, you kill. If she tells you to die, you die. Follow her around and keep her safe." The soldat nodded. Then Heisenberg turned to you. "He's already dead, so don't worry about throwing him in danger. Oh and also, just take him into the sun every once in a while so that his engine can recharge. You'll know when he needs the sun."

You were baffled. "Wait, Heisenberg- how the- what the hell am I supposed to do with him?"

"Figure it out, kid. Think of him as a guard dog."

You looked at the soldat then at Heisenberg's retreating form, then back at the soldat.

"So..." The soldat stared at you. "You got a name?"

"Handsome." You nodded to yourself as you trudged, using the soldat's arm to support yourself. "That's what I'm gonna call you. Handsome. What do you think?"

The soldat was wearing a metal contraption over its eyes, so you couldn't really tell what it was feeling.

"Well, you don't seem to have any complaints, so from now on, you'll respond to the name "Handsome". Do you understand?"

The soldat nodded.

You laughed. God, the pain meds were either making me stupid or everything else funnier.

You looked at the map again. Just a couple of more minutes and then a right turn. And then you should see the lake- god, this map was confusing as hell.

"So..." you wondered what you should ask the cyborg. Oh right. "You seen Ethan? Blonde man, crazy big eyes. Or a baby, Rose?" The man shook his head no.

Sigh. What else could I ask him? What about how did he die? No, what if that's triggering? I can't handle a Terminator right now. And I don't think I should ask him about his past or anything that'll cause him to have a existential crisis. Ah! I've got it!

"Hey, how do you see?"

The soldat looks down at you for a few seconds then points at his metal contraption.

Wait- is that sarcasm?

You scoff. "Of course, you see with your eyes! I meant, with the whole metal thingy covering them, how do you- oh, there's this vision specs in them."

You smiled. "Hey, you're kinda like Cyclops, yknow-" you were cut off as Handsome suddenly pushed you to the ground, turning on his drill.

"Wait, shit- you don't have to be Cyclops! We can talk this out-" but Handsome was focusing on something else, and that's when you saw it. Two lycans.

Handsome ran and easily maimed them to pieces, I mean, you had to look away from the horrific scene midway.

The soldat returned five minutes later, covered in blood. He extended his hand and you reluctantly took it, letting him support you as you began walking again, your heart still beating like crazy.

But you calmed down when you finally reached the lake, the setting sun gave serene feel to the entire reservoir. You inhaled deeply before looking at Handsome. "Lets go down there." You pointed at the lake.

You were both sitting at the wooden broadwalk, your legs hanging off the ledge. You looked at the water, it wasn't crystal clear, but you could see some fishes swimming around, so at least it wasn't dangerous to life. You looked at Handsome, then at his drill and you realised he was still covered in blood. "Lets get you cleaned up, hm?" You said, pulling out a rag from your bag and dipping it in the cold water below. You began with cleaning up his drill, then dipping the rag back in cold water and cleaning his chest and his other arm.

"Good job back there, Handsome."You smiled as Handsome nodded. "Heisenberg was right, you are kinda like a dog. Hmm, I wonder if..." You tested your theory as you petted him on the head. "Good job, Handsome!" But the soldat only tilted its head in confusion.

"Hmm, perhaps not." You cupped the cold water in your hands and washed your own face, You looked at your reflection in the water. "You wanna go for a swim? I don't mind." Handsome shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of swimming either."

Handsome stared at you. You scoffed. "Oh so you pretend you don't understand what I say, but you want to hear the story? Fine, but I'm only telling you because it might be important later."

You both stared at the water as you began your story. "Well, when I was 15, I had snuck out of the house to go to a party. It was at this rich girl's house and I knew she didn't like me, but I was surprised when she had invited me to her place. Yes, a red flag I should've seen from miles ago, but I was young and dumb and desperate to climb the highschool social hierarchy." You chuckled. "Anyways, long story short, one of the guys there pushed me into the pool because I don't know if they thought it was funny to see me drown? By some luck, I managed to grab onto the pool ledge and pull myself up. I immediately left the party, embarrassed and cold and on the verge of breaking down. Then on the way back home, there was this car following me and then some weirdo catcalled me and tried to get me in his car. Now, scared for my life because I watched a lot of Criminal Minds, I ran all the way home, praying that he leaves me alone. I think he stopped when he saw a Range Rover following him, but I don't know. I just rushed back home." You sighed. "You know what happened next? I bursted through the front door, slamming it shut and I turn around to see my dad in the living room, looking surprised to see me. He stood up and looked me up and down and then said, "Y/n? You're drenched completely. And you're messing up the floor. You know what? Mia's in the bathroom right now, why don't you go upstairs and I'll clean up here. You know how she gets when there's water on the wood." And I was just so shocked, that I didn't say anything and went back upstairs. Once I was in the shower, that's when I broke down crying. I almost drowned, almost got kidnapped and my father was worried about me messing up the wooden floor? Hell, he didn't even ask me why I was coming home at midnight." Your tears fell into the lake, making small ripples. You chuckled, "God, I always wondered how tired he must've been from work that day to ignore all these visible signs of distress. I always hated his job, you know? They made him work way too much." You looked at Handsome who was looking at the lake. "Anywho, now you know I can't swim so, save me if I fall into this lake, okay?" He nodded.

You guys sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before a question popped up in your mind. "Handsome?" He turned his head towards you, only to see a mischievous smile on your face. "Are you seeing someone?" The man turned his back to the lake, making you laugh. "Ahh, so you like someone. Tell me, is it someone from the village?" The man further turned his head away from you in embarrassment. "Oh come on, tell me! Is it a girl?" He nodded reluctantly, making you punch his arm. "You dog! Does she know?" Handsome shook his head, making you smile. "Tell you what? As a payback for saving me back there, I'll help you get her. I'll be your wingman, Handsome, hm?" He nodded a bit enthusiastically.

"We all deserve good things, Handsome. No matter how we look, or what we are, these things don't really define one's self worth. Its our intentions, you know?" Handsome didn't know, but he nodded anyways.

"Good. Now, lets go check out this place. Keep an eye out for Ethan and Rose, okay?" You told him, not knowing someone was already watching the two of you.

So... thought?

What did you guys think about Handsome? I'm gonna post a pic of him soon if you guys want.

Part 5 is here.

[starlitangels]

Broken (Not Broken)

I don’t know where this came from. I like all the listener characters paired with their Redacted bois. I really do. Like, I don’t really ship any Redacted character with anyone other than their listener. But this one was nagging at me so... here you go, I guess. 3.2k words It’s been a while since I wrote a longer one. Fun. (Psst! This one now has a Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 3.5)(Part 4)(Epilogue)

—

“Oh please, Shaw. If you had your way, you probably would have rather I stayed up in Washington indefinitely and never come back to Dahlia,” I spat, shoving past David toward the door to the security office. “And the rest of the pack wouldn’t blame you.” The last sentence came out as a quiet growl.

“What?” David demanded. I heard his boots stomping after me. Whipped my hand away as he tried to grab my arm. “Tanker—where the hell did you get an idea like that?”

“Where the hell do you think, alpha?” I retorted. I halted in my tracks but didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m the pack joke. I hear the whispers that follow me through pack meetings. They’ve been the same since I was thirteen. Reckless. Self-destructive. Headstrong. Loner...” I clenched my jaw, eyes falling to the worn-down carpet. “Broken.” I cleared my throat. “The pack thinks I’m broken. And guess what? They’re right. If they weren’t right before I left for Washington, they definitely are now. I’m broken, David.” I growled—more animalistic than usual even for me. “If I’d just stayed in Washington... at least I wouldn’t be the humiliating stain on your pack’s perfect reputation.”

“Tank—” David tried to protest.

I slammed open the door and stormed out. Once I was in the parking lot, I broke into a run.

“Tank!” David shouted behind me.

“Leave me alone, Shaw!” I threw over my shoulder. I turned the run into a sprint and leapt over the curb of the parking lot that led right to the forest. I knew why David had chosen this location for their office. Perfect access to the woods for a bunch of shifters.

My feet didn’t touch the soft dirt as I landed. My paws did, claws sinking in.

I’d perfected shifting mid-air when I was fourteen. Liked to make a trick of it. Mostly because Ash couldn’t figure out how I made it look so easy and every time he tried it he ended up falling over. He didn’t need to know it took two solid weeks of me also falling over to finally stop overcorrecting my balance.

I bounded through the woods, reveling in the wind rushing through my fur where it was exposed. I couldn’t hear David behind me. I doubted he’d follow anyway.

David and I weren’t always the best at picking our battles. Thinking we were strong enough to fight every single one. And win. But David was better at it than I was. Always had been. I didn’t know where he found the patience. Usually if I flew off the handle, he would be beside me. But there were more than a handful of times where he was behind me instead, grabbing me and holding me back.

He knew this argument wasn’t over. He knew we would pick up exactly where we left off later. The way spats between us always had. But he knew that I’d left for a reason. He knew that if I’d stayed one second longer, two of the biggest wolves in Dahlia would have torn that damn office apart.

I would have shifted and we would have fought. And David would have won. He always did. No matter how much better I got at fighting, I could never beat him. If I’d stayed and we’d fought, he would have beaten me to hell.

And I’d probably deserve it.

Self-destructive. Reckless. Headstrong. Wayward.

Broken.

I huffed out my nose and shook my head to clear it. So what if I was broken? So what if I threw myself at the wall and cracked a little more each time it broke first? Why was that anyone else’s business? I’d been a member of the pack since I was thirteen. But I’d never been part of it. Not like the others. They all leaned on each other—bolstered each other when they needed it.

They’d shied away from me. I was too much. Too hard. Too harsh. Too guarded. 

The vivid, distinct memory of Marie pulling Milo away from me and into her arms after I’d lost my cool and shifted to defend Milo from some bullies at school when we were fifteen still stung. I didn’t belong with them. I wasn’t like other wolves.

Whatever I was, I was made different. I was made violent. Sharp. Rough-edged in a way that couldn’t be softened. I’d tried. I’d wanted to be accepted when I was a teenager. When I first joined. I wanted to be part of the pack. And they’d tried to accept me. But I was too different. By the time I was twenty, I knew that I’d never be accepted fully. I was born to spill blood. The universe, God, or whatever was out there—something had decided that I was a fighter. And I’d never been given another option.

So I always did what I was born to do. I fought. I had the scars to prove it. I fought and I beat myself to hell and back with a wild disregard for my own body and safety. Because it was all I knew. And I let the pack shy away from me while I moved the other way. In a room full of people, I was always alone.

I slammed myself into a tree as I ran—to jar the look on Marie’s face from all those years ago out of my mind. Her wide eyes and slack jaw. The smell of fear. The maternal instinct to protect her son. Milo was one of the toughest wolves in the pack—always had been—and his mother still sought to protect him from me. After I’d done what I’d done in his defense. The look on her face... like I was some sort of monster...

It didn’t matter anymore. I’d accepted my place. Black sheep. Lone wolf.

Broken.

I kept running. Fast and hard. Lungs growing ragged with how hard I was breathing.

I’d just leapt a small stream when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. A text.

After a few steps to make sure I was on safe ground, I shifted back, leaning against a tree and panting while I pulled my phone out.

New Message David Shaw🐺: When you’re ready to -talk-, let’s talk.

I scoffed.

Every time we try to -talk- we end up shouting, Shaw.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and trudged over to the stream. I plunged my hands into the frigid water, letting the tears finally fall. They splashed delicately into the current and washed away.

“Why do you even care?” I muttered. I shook my head. “He doesn’t actually care, Tank. He’s just fighting through the motions of keeping me in line because he has to. Because he’s the alpha. Your alpha. The one unlucky sucker who has the misfortune of dealing with me. Chaotic. Disastrous. Harbinger. Mess.” I scoffed. “Listen to me. Calling myself Tank. That title they gave me because I wasn’t one of them. The others just go by their names. Not me. Not to them. And apparently I’m so used to it I don’t even think of myself by my own name anymore. I am what they made me. And I am what I forged myself into.”

I got to my feet, shaking cold water off my hands. The stream had numbed my fingers, but in a way that felt good after the heat of running.

I found a log to sit down on. To let my magic recharge for a bit.

And I cried. Sobbed. Let myself break a little bit more. Alone. In the woods. Where no one could see me cry. Big wolves don’t cry.

Gabe had told me once that there was an African proverb that said, “A child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” He’d told me that with a fond, gentle smile as he gave me a hug. I’d been thirteen. New to the pack. Desperate to be accepted. Gabe was the only one whose attempts to connect with me felt genuine. Not obligatory.

I’d never wanted to be the child who burned down the village. But every passing year made it feel like the torch was already in my hand and pulling itself closer and closer to the homes.

I slid off the log and sat in the dirt, face buried in my hands and breathing coming only in the choked gasps of sobs.

Swearing, I slammed my fists into the earth beneath me. Not caring where twigs and pebbles dug in. Chaotic disregard for my own body. Recklessness. Hallmarks of who I’d always been.

“Did I ever tell you that I considered making you beta?” a voice said.

I swore again—louder and more emphatically—as David stepped over the log and sat down on it.

“The hell are you doing here?” I snapped, keeping my face turned away from him, for once inconvenienced by wearing a tank top—no sleeves to wipe my face on. “Were you following me? Creep.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. “Did I ever tell you?” he repeated. Calmly.

I rolled my eyes. “No. Why would you ever consider me? I shouldn’t have even been on the list.”

David grunted. “You were. You’re a good wolf. A damn strong fighter. And you care about people—even if you struggle to show it.” He cleared his throat. “Granted, I knew you’d refuse the position if I offered it to you, which ultimately led me to choosing Asher. But I thought if you were given responsibility in the pack, it would help you better connect to your packmates.”

“Yeah, that would have ended well,” I muttered. “Undermined your authority from the very beginning because you chose the outcast as your beta. You and I are both glad you dodged that bullet.”

“Will you look at me?” David demanded. “Stop staring at the ground and look me in the eye.”

I shoved myself to my feet, stormed a few steps away, and whirled to meet his gaze. “Why did you follow me out here, David? What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“We don’t talk. I don’t talk with anyone, apparently. It always turns into shouting matches. This pack is terrified of me. Of what I’ve done. Of what I could do.” I ground my jaw. “I should have stayed in Washington,” I said softly. “At least then I would have spared all of you the agony of having to deal with me.”

David leapt to his feet. When had he gotten so tall? “For the record, if I had my way as you said, you never would have left for Washington. I knew why you did it and I understood why you felt you needed to. That’s why I agreed. But you’re pack. You’re family. I didn’t want you to leave.”

I snorted in disbelief. “Is that right?”

David raised his chin. “Yes. It is,” he said sharply.

“You didn’t just jump at the chance to get the stain on your pack’s reputation off your hands? Make me someone else’s problem?” I pushed.

“Tank, you are not a ‘humiliating stain’ on the pack’s reputation. You never have been. We’re people. We make mistakes. Every damn member of this pack has broken the codes of conduct at least once. Including me. Granted, that was before I became the alpha, but I have.” He took a step closer to me. I took a step back.

David flinched. I blinked. “What?” I snapped.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he said.

“I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of anything.”

“Except letting yourself be cared about!” David spat.

It was my turn to flinch at his tone. Any wolf would if their alpha spoke like that. My jaw tightened. A headache was forming in my temples from the tension in it. “You think that frightens me? You think I pulled away from the pack and went off the damn deep end into a self-destructive relationship with a sadistic vampire because I was scared of letting myself be cared about?” I growled. The hair on the back of my neck pricked. Trying to raise. But in human form I had no hackles to raise.

My tone got louder as I continued, “Are you really that blind, Shaw? I know you’re not a therapist or a social worker but come on. Any self-respecting alpha should be able to tell a cry for help when they see one. I showed up to pack meetings with the collar of my shirt soaked in my own blood and half of my damn neck ripped open—pleading inside for someone to ask if I was okay. You think I distanced myself from the pack? The pack pulled away from me first. Before any of this ever happened. Not Gabe—never Gabe. But after you took over? There was no one left to be on my side no matter what. Everything I did—everything I tried to do to connect with these people—it was never enough.

“You didn’t see the way Marie looked at me in high school. When those... pricks were picking on Milo for being small.” My hands balled into fists, fingernails digging into my palms. “Sure, I should have stayed in human form and ‘used my words’ or whatever. But words don’t get bullies like that in line. So I shifted. I pounced as a wolf. And I pushed Milo out of the way.

“And what did I get for it? A thank-you? No! I got Milo’s mother staring at me like I’m nothing more than a common beast and dragging Milo away from me. I defended him and she looked at me like I was the one who’d attacked him.” Tears were pouring down my face now. “I see that look in her eyes even now, the last time I spoke to Milo at a pack meeting. It’s been over ten years!

“I’m not scared of letting myself be cared about, David. I’m scared that I can’t be cared about. Because no one does care about me! I’m lonely down to the very marrow of my bones and no one in this pack notices. They’re all too scared to look at me!” I’d been backing up, voice getting louder and louder, as I’d ranted. David kept taking steps closer to me to keep the distance even. But his longer legs meant he was slowly getting closer. “Quinn broke me. I know that. You know that. The whole damn pack knows that. And I let him. Do you think it was hard for him to lead me on? Do you think he had to be so sly and crafty to get me to think he liked me? To distract me from how terrible he really was?

“Because it wasn’t.” I shook my head. “I was so desperate for any form of companionship that I let myself ignore every red flag without even realizing I was doing it. And when I finally snapped out of it, I figured out something that the whole pack seemed to think for years: love is not an emotion afforded to me.” I wanted to punch a tree. But managed to refrain.

David just stared at me for a moment. A muscle had flickered in his jaw when I made the self-respecting alpha comment, but now his face was slack.

“Look at me David. For the first time in our lives, really look. I’ve seen the way you look straight through everyone else in the pack. Peer deep into their souls. See me for what I am for the first time. I dare you,” I snapped.

“I see you, Tank,” he said.

“No you don’t!” I didn’t mean to explode, but I couldn’t help it. “Because you still see me as Tank! The title the others in the pack slapped me with! No one else in the pack has a nickname like that. Just me. Given to me because I’m not like the others.”

“You really feel that way?”

“Duh. Congratulations on having to be told outright in order to notice. Now answer my question. What the hell are you doing here? Why did you follow me?”

“I came because I was worried about you. Because—contrary to your belief— there are people in this pack who care about you.”

“Yeah, right,” I retorted, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. “Look, I’m only staying in Dahlia until I find Quinn and tear his throat out with my teeth. Then I’ll go back to Washington and get out of your lives and your hair.”

“Did you not hear me when I said I didn’t want you to leave in the first place?” David asked sharply.

“I heard. But that doesn’t change the fact that apparently my presence has made the packs’ lives hell since I got here.”

“And if I say you can’t?”

“Then I’ll leave without your blessing. It’s not like I’ve ever cared about that kinda crap before.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. “Why are you even here? Why are you even acting like you care? You and I were always the least social of the group. I thought we had an understanding.”

“We did.”

“So what are you doing out here? Why would you follow me into the woods? Why does it matter to you, David?” My voice got louder and louder until I was shouting. I’d kept backing up—but as I shouted his name, my spine bumped into a tree. Cornered.

David grabbed my shoulders and pushed me against the trunk. “Because I love you, dammit!” he shouted.

Oh.

Oh.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen. It killed me to watch you let Quinn destroy you, and it killed me to let you leave for Washington. But as your alpha I had to let you go and recover from everything he’d put you through. I couldn’t think as the kid who had a crush on you.” He sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “And I came after you because it broke my heart to see you running away from me.”

My chest burned. And for once it wasn’t my Core aching to shift.

“I... I really want to kiss you,” I said. Surprised at how breathless my own voice sounded.

David almost looked shocked. “I’ve waited to hear that since we were teenagers. C... can I?”

“Please do.”

He pushed me harder against the tree trunk and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him to me. He was warm and firm against me, fingers digging into the muscle of my shoulders, wrinkling up my tank top.

One of his hands slid up to cup the side of my face. And he whispered my name—my real name—between kisses. Over and over. He whispered it reverently. An exultation.

“Isn’t it... complicated... for an alpha... to date... a pack member?” I asked between kisses, my fingertips pressing into his back.

David snorted out his nose. “I don’t care,” he replied, voice just as breathless as mine had been. “I’ve wanted this... wanted you... for years.”

“Okay,” I said. “You wanna do this?”

“Only if you do.”

“I wouldn’t be kissing you if I didn’t.”

“Fair enough.” He kissed me again. “And, for the record, you’re not broken. You put yourself back together—and you healed all the stronger for it.”