#so im just. dead on the ground as i continue to line his stupid goddamn sexy whip that looks so cool but sucks SO bad to draw

[syekick-powers]

most painful thing as an artist is when you're designing something and you include a design element or otherwise make some kind of specific choice about how the design works that absolutely FUCKS aesthetically and looks SO cool and right, but is absolute teeth-pulling hell to actually fucking draw

[unfortunatelysirius]

╰☆☆ ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝔾𝕀ℝ𝕃𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 ☆☆╮ [Sirius Black – Marauders Era] [Part 14]

Previous Installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

╰❂╮ prompt ╰❂╮ ☾ ¡Original! ☾ With the perpetrator on their tail, and Sirius’s prejudices no longer something that can be ignored, relationships shatter and a safe way out is near unimaginable. ╰❂╮ author’s note ╰❂╮ Sorry this is so, so late. I hope the installment is to your satisfaction. AND IM SORRY IT’S SO SHORT BUT PLS, FEEDBACK WOULD BE APPRECIATED AND I’LL BE MORE PROMPT ON UPDATES. Will be updating Chocolate Frogs and Love Notes soon. Tell me if you want added to any of my tag-lists! ╰❂╮ warnings ╰❂╮ Angst, Swearing, Violence ╰❂╮ word count ╰❂╮ 2043 ╰❂╮ tag-list ╰❂╮ @kapolisradomthoughts @rageofcaliban @saucyleftovers @bunnymother93 @siriuslyr5 @apareciumimagines  @random-quartz @ruefulposts @seabasstiantrash @starlightspidey @pinkettepoet @peppermintspecks @jiongyongguk​ @bethanystan​ @raindancer2004​ @where-are-my-gummy-bears​ @cutebutnotinorcent​

           IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT, and a disturbing sort of cold Y/N thought she might never experience in her lifetime, shivers up and down her spine within the dark, suffocating corridor. The stars were like silver dewdrops splattered across the navy sky, visible through each old window’s silhouette littered around the castle; with every passing step, Y/N caught another glimpse of Nature’s finest canvas. She was curled into Sirius’s side, squished between his subtly muscled body and James’s near-identical shape, both Remus and Peter trailing the three of them by seconds. It was reminiscent of times that seemed so far away.

         Y/N thought it was all too good to be true. Everything, from her and Sirius falling back into same-old, same-old routine like they’d never left the honeymoon phase to James looking quite sullen compared to his usual upbeat, enthusiastic self. She wondered if it was all a twist on reality to make her think things were fine when really, Sirius wasn’t anywhere near, James still hated her, and the Marauders were leading her somewhere to hex and discard their latest “conquest.”  It made all the more sense the longer she thought about it, but thoughts of the way Sirius felt—flesh, bone, whole—made her realize she was daft, and just a little bit mad.

         He was so obviously here, a living, breathing wonder, and she was trying to make it a mirage. She wanted it that way.

         Or maybe she’d just went long enough with things going wrong that miracles seemed far too good to be true.

         “I have to meet with Regulus,” murmured Y/N into the quiet air, after the silence became a tad bit too smothering. She was also alert of her own negligence, from her delirious daze to her angry soul’s demands for an apology, as Sirius’s arm looped around her became a bone-crushing reality. Not so much a reality she craved anymore, but one that needed multiple bandages slapped across it; the Muggle way of rekindling old flames and licked wounds. Y/N was beginning to grow agitated and nervous, as this reality crushed down on her. As her newly-put-together world fell apart in the wake of unanswered questions. “He—wants to help. He thinks I was Obliviated.”

         Sirius glanced down at her, looking unsure, his own face not betraying the inner turmoil running their world ragged. The two of them didn’t know how to approach their current problem, the one that kept them from falling together as happy memories asked them to; Y/N was afraid of what lay in wait, Sirius’s admittance that he thought so lowly of her that for even a millisecond he thought she might have been a slag, and Sirius dreaded the moment he had to let his betrayal out into the open. Neither of them were willing to ruin their reconciliation by simple, trivial ire, the kind that winded up someone alone and heartbroken, the kind that could get anyone and everyone hurt.

         Even the most painful of thoughts were best kept internalized, if it meant staying locked tight in a dream.

         Even now, the two of them were so different. Differences Y/N once overlooked in favor of what made them compatible.  

“Regulus doesn’t care about anyone except for himself,” Sirius snapped at Y/N, the three Marauders looking nervous in anticipation for the argument to come. “He’s a Slytherin. The bloody git is tricking you.”

         “How the fuck would you know?” Y/N was never one for confrontation. This was all new territory. She was tired, and depressed, and dying of questions; she loved Sirius, she did, but he was still the prejudiced, arrogant prat he was before they started dating. He’d always hate Slytherins because he grew up in a world full of snakes that rejected him for being who he was, and maybe that was a drawn line for why they weren’t meant to last. He was the charismatic, hateful railroad tycoon, and she was his subdued wife that tiptoed around his temper. Stupid, foolish—she was letting herself use another goddamned Muggle analogy—Americanized, no less. Maybe Y/N was running low on a lucid mind as much as she was excuses.

         He knows nothing about Regulus, she thought anyway, looking into those silver grey eyes she’d always loved. Sirius didn’t. He refused to talk to his brother; maybe Regulus was growing into himself and losing that part of him that preened and prawned from pleasing his parents. If he was scared, if he was determined to find the truth because he wanted to sabotage dark plans, he never once betrayed it. But deep down, there was nothing else rational to explain his motivations, and Y/N knew he was a scared little boy afraid the monsters would someday catch up to him—

And they’d eat him alive like all wolves just so happen to do.

“Regulus is your brother,” continued Y/N. “He doesn’t want to be part of whatever it is your parents do. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You didn’t grow up with him. You didn’t see him do nothing when his brother was lying on the ground, with their father standing above him,” seethed Sirius. “Don’t act like you know him; you sure as hell don’t.”

Y/N felt like crying, as she wrenched herself away from Sirius’s warm, comforting embrace. “Don’t act like you know me,” she spat. Sirius’s jaw fell downwards, a flicker of hurt flitting across his face. “Go mope in your dorm. I’m getting down to the bottom of this, with or without you.”

Sirius was silent. Y/N continued to watch him, imploring him to say something, wishing he wouldn’t just let her leave. If she left, she could get hurt, and Sirius wouldn’t be her knight in shining armor. They went so long in turmoil that Y/N wanted there to be some sort of compromise; if they could argue and fight for so long, the two a mess with their friends on the fence on how to fix them, then they sure as hell could be soft and melted together, too. Maybe they were different, maybe Sirius couldn’t let his old ways go, but truth be told—Y/N always wanted to show him a new perspective.

She’d tried doing that before things went wrong.

“Really, Sirius?” she said now, staring brokenly at him. “We could finally figure this out, and you’re backing down? Really?”

“Whoever’s done this is dangerous,” Sirius told her. His voice had lost all its shake, all its fury, rendered a new sort of mellow Y/N had hardly ever seen from him. He looked like he itched to hold her and reassure he was just an asshat, but his asshat ways betrayed none of his true love for her, or his need to protect her. None, nada, zilch: right? He was a teenage boy, a prat, but he didn’t mean anything out of his pathetically unfiltered mouth. “I want you safe, Y/N. We should leave this to the professors.”        

Those words were foreign out of his mouth. Y/N took a heavy breath and she said, “Sirius, do you even hear yourself? Merlin, what’s happened to you?”

“What’s happened to me? Me?” Sirius’s laugh was humorless. “You’re bloody mad.”

“Sirius, Y/N, this isn’t the best time,” said Remus, looking between the two with apprehension.

“This is the best time, Remus,” Y/N said, refusing to look at any of them. She knew Peter was fidgeting; she knew James was gap-mouthed like a pufferfish; she knew Remus was trying to hide his trepidation. She knew Sirius was silently seething. All of them, they weren’t clearly thinking. They didn’t have their nerves together. Y/N was terrified that solving the bottom of the mystery would never come if they fell apart before they came together. But Y/N could no longer go on if her experience with the love of her life was only going to be heartache and pain, two things she had felt since coming to this God-awful school.

You’re not any better than him, thought Y/N, her brain suddenly going to Ashton. He was dead, and she’d never get to see him again; she’d never get to tell him she was sorry, that she never meant to use him, that he was someone she came to love in her desperation to feel. He taught her about love. He taught her that it was okay to be without for a little while because wholes always regain their lost pieces. Maybe he threw her into an abyss after he broke her heart that left her sad and lost of all hope, but now, with her head on her shoulders again, she could safely say he taught her a lot—yet she gained nothing.

Y/N was happy with Sirius, but he did not teach her anything. He was a fun partner in crime, but when it truly came down to life lessons, he wasn’t a teacher; he was along for the ride, a mere passenger in a bus packed to the brim with faces from the crowd.

Standing in the hallway, letting these thoughts wash over her, Y/N could not do this anymore. She needed to find Regulus and reach the climax of this game. Someone was toying with her and her feelings, and if she didn’t put a stop to it, if she didn’t find a way to draw the villain out and stifle the madness, there was no way for her to get peace—and she’d stay stuck in an endless cycle of being a living ghost.

“I can’t anymore, Sirius,” whispered Y/N. “I can’t.”

She turned around and ran.

The Marauders watched after her, one looking horrified, two looking shocked, and the one this mattered to most—he looked heartbroken.

And none of them even bothered to go after her, as the guilt sunk in and they realized—

Was the love-potion maker truly the villain? Or was it them?

-

Y/N had stopped running after reaching the fourth corridor. She eventually stopped walking altogether. Her pace slowed until it was nonexistent, her harsh, shaking breaths fell into soundless sniffs, her erratic thoughts slowly but surely came to a close. All she could think about now was Regulus, who was waiting at the library for her presence. And that half-blurry, half-familiar memory of a white-haired girl in the very same forest Y/N was in herself

Y/N knew it mattered. She knew she’d been Obliviated, and she was foolish not to go to Headmaster Dumbledore for help in retrieving her memories… but she was a foolish girl, and foolish girls wanted to figure out mysteries by themselves.

“I’m a bloody fool,” mumbled Y/N to herself, clutching her head like that would heal all trace of confusion, as well as her sadness. It wouldn’t, but it felt like it did—so Y/N continued to grope at her temples and scalp. The corridor echoed with spooky creaks and even spookier whistles. Y/N felt regret seep into her bones, as she realized she was still a bit of ways away from the library—and she was totally, utterly, completely alone.

Y/N heard someone laugh.

“You are a bloody fool,” they said.

Out from the end of the corridor emerged a girl, whose entire face and hair were obscured by shadows—but the pretty little patch on her robes had a snake on them. Y/N knew it was a Slytherin. But all she saw was the patch, as her body and face were near invisible—and even then, the patch’s emblazoning was blurry to her. She felt her head grow light, her eyes squinting to see within the darkness. She was so caught in looking at the patch to even pay any regard to the words the stranger spoke or the wand as it lifted, pointing right at Y/N’s chest.

“Who are—”

The girl flicked her wrist. “Stupefy,” she said.

Suddenly Y/N was knocked off her feet by a powerful spell, the backlash sending her head cracking against the corridor wall, rendering her immobile and near-unconscious.

She felt her body crumble, but only half of the way—a steady stream of numbness shooting through her like lightning.

         The stranger walked up, a laugh emptying from her mouth.

“Got you!” the girl sang happily.

That was when things went black.

[histeetharenotsoft]

honestly i have no idea how i’m supposed to make it to ep 165

because 162 killed me, like 3 times

spoilers below the cut!

ITS GERRY!!!!!! MR KEAY I MISS YOU

but this is the first time we’ve actually Heard him, not secondhand or with spooky ghost echo, just as a normal voice on a tape. and i just want to hug him so much because ohhhh boy he has no idea what’s going to happen and also i am love him

“do i get to hear them?” “perhaps. if you live long enough.” shut up gertrude shut the fuck up don’t just mention gerry dying so casually its Rude

hmmm i might write a fic where jon, sasha and gerry are somehow all the archivist because I Can Do What I Want

ooo here we have more fire in the archives foreshadowing

did. did gerry’s chair scrape when gertrude raised her voice. like he flinched. someone hug this man

and then his voice goes all quiet when gertrude is lecturing him and Mary Keay Can Catch These Hands

“you are occasionally useful despite your foolishness” wowwww gertrude. what glowing praise. don’t just say that to his face come onnnn

but “useful” though. “useful”. i know we already know gertrude is an ‘ends justify means’ type character but goddamn if that isn’t just a perfect description of her relationships with people: categorised by their use to her plans and nothing more

“the network of sinister tunnels that snake beneath the archive” gertrude definitely knows about the tunnels lets be real. she’s just protecting jurgen leitner stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner goddamn fool book collecting dust eating rat old bastard shithead idiot avatar of the whore

what i wouldn’t give for gerry to have canonically beaten up jurgen leitner more than once. that’s going in my triple archivist fic

“what happens if we fail” oh. oh no. oh no whats gertrude going to say

“i suspect death puts us beyond their power” hmmm. seems like a fair point but i feel like the end would come up with some fuckery because this universe is a bastard and doesn’t let anyone get the rest they deserve. this isn’t really important to the plot (at least I Hope Not) but the thought of eldritch fear gods being able to reach us after death... chills

“[actual death] is preferable to lingering in a world they control” oh no that’s not good for jon to hear

“they might even stop death entirely.” hmmm. HMMMMMM

“and taxes?” “taxes i imagine will continue” hell yeah jonny get his ass (’him’ being capitalism). also i know the coronavirus lockdown isnt exactly an apocalypse caused by eldritch fear gods forcing themselves through into our world, but considering the shit thats been going on? yeah i imagine taxes would continue

“could it be undone?” “no, i don’t think so” oh no. oh no jon. jon nooo. he’s just playing it over and over and god he must be feeling so guilty and helpless. he also gets a hug. and another. and then three more. then one more but it lasts for like an hour before i have to phase back into my own dimension

TIM AND SASHA i’m still not prepared to hear their voices i love they

sasha is so competent she’s incredible and i am in awe of her

hell yeah tim is drinking his respect woman juice

“jimmy magma. joany magnum? jack magnet” asjdfhakjfhakjhfk tim you’re the best

“what if we kill him” Fuck Off Jonny You Can’t Do That

SADHJA WAS GOIJNG YO QUIKT I AM SJDFHKJLASLKFDJGKSDJHF

holy fuck we got canon timsasha. also “you’re not the love interest”??? sasha was a lesbian. source: me, also a lesbian. who can Do What She Wants

“you might be the character they drop after the pilot” sasha no dont say that!!!! as the character who was dropped after the pilot (ok season not episode but still) i have determined that is Illegal. and yes i know sasha was killed off for entirely valid reasons and not just dropped but shhhh i am hurting

“i dont have anything keeping me here” oh sasha. oh you sweet summer child. i wish that was the case. i really do

oh hey sasha knew about tim’s brother? martin told tim about his CV? THE S1 ARCHIVE STAFF WERE FRIENDS AND I MISS THEM A LOT BECAUSE GODDAMMIT THE S3/4 STAFF DIDN’T FOUND-FAMILY LIKE THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO

“no such thing as the real you”? “it’s all just masks”??? jonny stop stop im already dead you dont need to kill me again

(god i fucking hate that i get the stanislavsky bit. i only did drama gcse but the exam was terrible because none of the exam board’s practice questions were even anywhere close so no one was prepared and i spent so long revising all these pointless notes on how to answer the difficult questions and i regret it So Much and any reminder of that fucking bullshit exam i had to do Fills Me With Rage

“if you get eaten alive by improperly filed statements, me and martin will avenge you... we’ll burn this place to the ground.” god i am in pain. not only do we have more archives arson foreshadowing but we also have this line that hits like a punch in the gut because they didn’t avenge sasha, did they?

“i find it highly unlikely this sasha ever even existed at all” “i’m unforgettable” shut up shut the fuck up is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED???? because it fucking shouldnt be. it’s murder jonny time lads!!!

is. is jon crying. oh no

and then he gets fucking posessed by the cabin?? i love how the format of the statements has changed its very interesting

The One You Love The One You Love The One You Love

jonmartin are so in love that even eldritch fear cabins can’t not see it. jonny really said “you can read their relationship as platonic... but i am going to do my goddamn best to make that hard for you” huh

and fuck, this statement. it’s so creepy and i love how we cant distinguish which entity it is, because does it even matter any more? the list of 14 was a human creation anywhere, i think the ‘different parts of a body’ metaphor l*itner used is makes more sense now. it doesn’t matter which part of the body is attacking you, it matters that you’re being attacked in the first place so figuring out which part it is isn’t really a priority any more

but i think it’s mostly stranger and spiral? i also get very vague corruption vibes from the description of the planks because “they are warmer, softer and more yielding than the timber they present”? ugghhhh. corruption has often been associated with this kind of ‘wrong’ warmth (think jon amherst) and it also brings to mind that episode where the guy nails meat all over his walls and the rot makes the statement giver’s ceiling collapse. but then there’s the lonely there too, because yes jonmartin have each other but jon says it himself: “it will not let you feel the warmth of joy this love may claim to gift”. just try tell me the concept of being unable to find happiness in love isn’t Lonely, even if it’s not entirely true

but yeah basically i love the merging of entities present in this creepy statement

“our tomb” huh. the pov changes here, it’s gone from talking about jon in second person, to talking as jon in first person. so if jon wasn’t possessed by SpOoKy CaBiN like i thought (because if he was, why would he suddenly switch like this? it doesnt make sense)... then what was making that statement? my instinct is to say it was The Archivist or rather, The Archives talking about jon but like a separate personality, which... yikes

“[this will be] my chrysalis. it is time that i emerge.” monster jon? monster jon. this line gave me chills because damnnnn i love me some good eldritch!jon

“i wanted to leave and hunt down elias” hell yeah jon go and brutal pipe murder that bastard its what you deserve

martin has packed bags already and he brought tea and i love him so muchhhhh

and jon’s smile is AUDIBLE he loves martin so much my tiny heart can’t handle it

“we got this.” “apparently so 😍 “ just tell me you can’t hear the heart eyes in jon’s voice. oh wait. you cant

LET MARTIN BURN SOMETHING ITS WHAT HE DESERVES

“we can’t fight the world, martin” “says you” afkjhasfkjhadkjghdakjghakdgf

to summarise:

get ready for me to type out the same summary for all 40 episodes because jesus fucking christ. jonny’s writing never fails to make me Feel All The Emotions at once. i give this one a spooky sentient cabin out of 10

[starlightwrites]

same anon uhhhh. Sorry, im currently re-reading Another Life so my bias may be showing, but Cori/Gage 70. "After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

Hello again, my friend!

For the Angst/Fluff Prompts!

All Fun and Games

He hit theground and rolled, rattling the hell out of his fuckin’ brain. It wasn’t far. Sevenfeet up? Maybe less? But for a second, he couldn’t breathe right and his headached too bad to stand. Maybe next time he’d think twice before falling backwardsoff a lookout post. The older he got, the harder it got to get back up when hetook a hit and one of these days, he wasn’t gonna get up at all.

That day wouldn’tbe today, though. He still had some shit to do here.

(Continued after the cut!)

The Gunnersswarming the place were everything he’d kinda hoped he could get the gangs tobe. Organized, efficient, and pretty damn hard to kill. They’d managed toset-up a decent base atop the stretch of old overpass that stood out in themiddle of nowhere, North-North East of the Kingdom. Smart place to set-up shop.One point of egress, which was a rickety lift they’d built that spanned fromthe ground to the end of the stretch. Since it was so high up and didn’tconnect to the ground anymore, they not only had a pretty secure spot, theyalso had a damn good line-of-sight and if they’d been paying just a little moreattention, he and Cori never would have made it to the lift at all. Thankfully,they’d gotten the drop on the camp, because without Cori’s frag grenades, they’dhave been up shit’s creek.

He rolled onto hisside, staggered back to his feet, and reloaded his shotgun. Little shit wantedto play hide-and-seek? Fine. He’d fuckin’ play. He cocked the gun and tookcover against the wall, listening close.

“Where’d you go,asshole?” Corinne, but further away than he’d expected. It was just one guyleft; how the hell had they managed to take the fight to the other end of thebridge? He started making his way over to what was serving as barracks,following Cori’s voice.

“Do you want tosay that again?” Her tone was light, but he knew her well enough to catch the edgeof anxiety under her words. “I could have sworn I heard you say something aboutblowing my head off, but who knows. Maybe I misheard. If you wanna come out, I’llgive you a whole twenty seconds to say the snappiest thing that comes to mindbefore I blast you into next week.”

The shit shesaid sometimes. He worked not to laugh as he ducked into a makeshift woodenshack. One room, two doors, a mattress, and footlocker. Clear. He moved throughquick, peeked out the door on the opposite side, and moved to the next hovel afew feet away.

“You’re a lotless talkative now that there’s one of you and two of us,” she griped. “You’rejust making this difficult.”

Gage prodded adead Gunner with the toe of his boot, but the poor fucker was missing half hisskull, so it was probably pretty safe to assume he wasn’t faking it. He roundedanother corner but again, nothing. The place wasn’t that big. This Gunner mustbe moving quick and quiet, which was surprising given the rough shape his legseemed to be in after the grenade went off. Their tent was clear, as was thelean-to latrine, which someone had been clever enough to position over a holein the overpass’ pavement that looked straight down at the ground fifty feetbelow. Not like he had a lot of love for the Gunners, but he had to respecttheir thinking.

He started toturn around and head towards Cori when he made eye-contact with the butt of arifle. Pain cracked across his forehead. The kid had missed and nailed himright over the eyes, though if he’d been smart, he would have aimed for thenose. Any raider worth their salt would tell him to break the nose if it was adistraction he needed. Still, Gage dropped to his knees, half in surprise, andhalf because the world had tipped violently in that second and his balance was nomatch. Couldn’t get his eyes to cooperate; he was seeing doubles and triples ofeverything—his hands, his gun, the ground, the Gunner. He groped for hisshotgun, but his fingers missed it. Shit.

The Gunnerbrought his weapon high over his head, and even with his vision all kinds ofout-of-whack, he knew the next hit was coming down on the top of his skull. Helurched to roll, but before the rifle started falling his way, he heard theboom of a shotgun. The Gunner slumped and dropped half on-top of Gage, head splattered.

“Thanks forluring him out.” Corinne’s voice was shaky. She didn’t like people sneaking upon her, from what he’d learned, so confident-sounding or not, she probably hadn’tliked their little game. She wiped her palms on her jeans and held out her handto hoist him up. The second he was vertical, however, nausea rolled up from thepit of his gut and he puked up lunch, as well as all the water he’d sippedwalking across the wastes that afternoon. She held him up without a word andthen, when it seemed like he’d upchucked everything he possibly could, shehelped him over to a cot and fished some more water out of her pack for him.

“I don’t knowwhat you’re supposed to do for a concussion,” she said, “but this seems like agood start.”

“I don’t have aconcussion.” He still sipped the water she stuffed into his hand, though,because she was probably right on that account.

“You could.”

“I don’t.”

“Would you evenknow? Being that it’s your head that’s messed-up?”

“Reckon I would,Princess.”

She leaned downover him and brushed her thumb over the new lump on his forehead.

“Is it bad?”

Corinneshrugged, which meant that it must be bad. He could feel blood trickling downhis face, but at least his nose wasn’t broken and his teeth weren’t knockedout. Could be worse. He daubed at the blood with his tank top while she dugthrough their supplies for stims. He usually avoided chems for the most part,but he’d make an exception because right about now, it felt like his skull wasabout to shatter like one of those mirelurk eggs.

She stimmed hisscalp with about half a syringe before realizing that the skull was not thebest place to stick a needle. Hands fluttering uselessly for a second, sheeventually injected the rest into his shoulder and just hoped the medicinewould get where it needed to go. And of course, because the Boss loved to talk,she walked him through the whole process step-by-step. He coulda’ done withoutthat part.

“There. Should wewrap it?”

“Nah. Save thebandages for something worth the fuss.”

“You are worth the fuss,” she snipped. “Nowhold still.”

Her fingertipswere cool on his temple as she wrapped his head in a length of gauze, her touchso light it was almost soothing. Real gentle. She wasn’t usually quite sogentle. His eyes drifted shut as she worked.

“That’s sweet,Boss. Didn’t know you cared.” He meant to say it sarcastically, but it came outat least fifty-percent sincere.

“Aww Gage. Aftereverything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

He snapped up straightand it was like he’d been zapped by fucking lightning. He’d never felt his damnheart stop like that. Winded. She’d knocked him flatter than the fall.

Love—?

That.

It was—?

Well that couldn’tbe right.

“What?” It was a goddamned stupid idiot thingto say, but it was the only response that came to mind.

Corinne frozetoo, stiffened up like she’d turned to ice. Her hands stopped moving and heopened his eyes again.

“Kidding. I waskidding.”

“Yeah. ‘Course,”he mumbled. Kidding. Right. Shoulda known it immediately.

“Just, ah.” Shecinched the straps of her ruck down tight and adjusted the pack on hershoulders. Tapped her foot. Fidgeted with her ruck again. “I’d never—”

“No, yeah, I getcha,”he said, feeling like a hunk of varren roasting on a spit over a campfire. “Ain’tnothing.”

“Exactly. I—”

“Nope. S’alright.”

“Right. Yes.”She dusted her hands off on her jeans and turned away to grab her pack. Hecould hear her jamming their lunchbox full of stims back into the maincompartment and then fighting with the zipper when it didn’t zip immediately. Likeshe couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

He got it. Hedid. It was a joke, and he’d taken that joke too seriously. Shouldn’t’ve. Musthave been the fuckin’ bump on his cranium. And she was disgusted. Revolted.Christ, the thought of him must’ve turned her stomach. He stood up from thecot, trying to ignore the pounding in his head as he grabbed his stuff.

“We should headout. Right?”

“Right.”

She looked athim for a long minute then and just stared. Was there something wrong with hisface? Aside from the bumps and bruises? But then she swallowed and headed backfor the lift the Gunners had build that would bring them back down to theWasteland where they could be on their merry fuckin’ way and pretend thisconversation hadn’t happened.

Sounded good tohim. Just peachy.

[untitledpseudonym]

The Director’s Cut

“ANNNNND CUT” 

A loud click and a gruff voice smelling of smuggled cigars and bourbon fills the set of director Randy McCullahan’s horror film studio. 

He steps out of his director’s chair, setting aside his glass of Eagle Rare, and starts walking

 to his star. She is currently laying on the ground of the kitchen dining room set, and covered in latex intestines and scarlet red theatrical blood.  

“What is it now, Mick?” the beautiful raven actor says, raising her hands up in confusion. Randy ignores her briefly to acknowledge his 7 ft star looming over the annoyed, fakely mutilated actress. 

“Chet, just wanna say, you’re doing a great job. Really embodying the killer vibe. Make sure you go back to makeup artists to get your mask refitted, it really seems to be slipping off.” Chet looks at the director, emotionlessly, his Ice blue eyes making it’s way past the thin film that covers the eye holes of his goat mask, piercing the director, and walks away towards the makeup crew.

“Heh, truly a method actor.” he says

“Uh, hello!” says the annoyed, actress. Randy sighs, displeasingly. 

“Ah, yes of course. You.” He says pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Whaddya mean me?!” she says standing up. Letting the fake guts and blood spill and drip of her. “That’s just it, Eve! It’s you! You’re not truly terrified. Your performance all day has been absolutely dreadful! You have shown no emotion in your death scene in 60 takes! We’ve burnt through 2 and a half hours of valuable film time just because you choose not to act! Like what am I even paying you for?!” Randy says yelling at her. Eve puts her hands on her hips. “I have given you my all for the entirety of this production! I talked to the other producers and crewmates and they all agree I've done the scene right the first 15 takes AT LEAST!” She spits back. Randy looks back at the crewmates and back at her. “Is that right?” he asks softly. Eve crosses her arms. “That’s right.” 

Randy nods and walks over to his director’s chair, softly repeating to himself: “uh-huh, that’s right, huh? Uh-huh, that’s right, huh? Uh-huh, that’s right, huh?” over and over until he gets to his chair and grabs the half drunk glass of Eagle Rare, and launches it, gently grazing the ear of the once righteous, now fearful actress. “This is my fucking set!” Randy bellows. “My fucking production! We will film until you all say your lines in sleep fucking paralysis! I don’t give a fuck how right you think it is, bitch! As long as i’m paying for your shit, you will deliver! Let me reiterate for all of you, since according to your ring leader Eve, you all support her claims.” Randy reaches under his directors chair and pulls out a M1911 pistol and fires off two bullets into the studio warehouses ceiling. Everyone shouts and ducks,some flee the set, clearly afraid of the director’s rant. “AS LONG AS IM PAYING FOR YOUR SHIT, YOU WILL FUCKING DELIVER!.” Randy shots above the petrified chaos he has commenced. He glances over at the terrified faces of his cast and crew and notices chet in the distance standing looking at him, fearlessly. Randy points his gun over at Chet. “See! True fucking actor right there, EVE! Take note.” Randy glances down at his watch and back at the terrified film cast. “Well, Chet earned you all the right to take five. See you all on set soon.” Randy waltzes off the set, but not before giving eve a death stare. 

“I fucking hate that creep.” Eve said to her friend Caroline, who was laying across from her on the italian leather couch.  “Eh, you get used to it. I mean, hell, I’ve been placed damn near every one of his casts and it’s basically the same song and dance. No matter how hard you try, he will make you repeat takes, Over and over again. You do the same things and he gets the same result. Personally, I think he does it until he gets tired.” She says looking at her. “Don’t let it get to you.” 

“That’s the thing Caroline, it does get to me. Everything was the complete opposite since my first day shooting. He was vibrant, likable even, but now he somehow managed to turn not only himself, but the entire cast and crew against me. You’re legit the ONLY one who will talk to me.” Caroline blinks twice and yawns. “Well, I’m not talking to you. I’m your fucking dog, you fool.” Caroline says.

“Oh.” Eve says. 

“As the designated therapy dog for everyone in Randy's movies, I’m used to having to listen to my master’s bullshit, over and over again. In the end though, it’s the same result. Always.”

“...What’s that? I didn’t hear you.” Eve said, focusing on removing her makeup in the mirror. 

“Oh, haha. Very hilarious. Maybe I should give Kevin Hart a call and tell him he has some new competition.” 

“Oh, Puh-Lease, shouldn’t you be sniffing your asshole or something?” 

“Well maybe you should--” 

A loud knock banged on the trailer door. A deep gruff voice spoke. “Eve Kraken? Are you decent?” the person on the other door said. Another voice spoke a bit more quietly. “Why don’t we just kick that bitches door down. She’s probably busy talking up her next toy for the evening anyways.” Eve gritted her teeth and slammed down the makeup wipes she had in her hand and marched to the door swinging it open with force. It was one of the producers. “Miss Kraken, we need you on set like right now.” Randy stepped in front of the producer. “You stupid fucking bitch.” he said angrily. “You took off your goddamn makeup, didn’t you?” 

“Well you said take five, so I was gonna re apply the makeup for the next scene we are gonna do.” she said, honestly.

“The next scene? The next scene. Davis, you hear her? The next scene. Bitch, We are still on the scene that you can’t fucking get right in the first fucking place.” Randy said sternly through closed teeth and clenched fists. “Just put on your fucking makeup and get your tight ass back on set before I give you two black eyeshadows that will take fucking weeks to get off. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” His Rum and Cigar breathe spread out on her face like a wave of pure disgust and hatred. She felt numb. All of his words had invoked a certain fear and rage inside her. This wasn’t just today, you see. This was everyday for Eve. She HATED randy. She FEARED Randy. The check she would receive every week for this treatment, seemed not even worth it. She gulped. “Yes, Randy. I'll be on set in five, please just, five.” Randy gruffed and walked away. The producer shuts the door, before briefly saying “Way to go, retard. Now we’ll all pay.” Once she can hear their footsteps fade away from the trailer, Eve screams. A trail of tears drip down her face as she punches her makeup desk over and over under her hands are bruised and bloodied. A small knife rumbles and tumbles off the desk. And onto the floor, making a slight, but noticeable clunking noise onto her hard wood floors. Eve looks down at it and kneels down at the small blade. 

“Take it.” Eve looks up at Caroline who was now sitting across from her. 

“What?” Eve said.

“Take the fucking knife and kill the fucker.” Caroline said to Eve. 

“Your mouth, it’s moving..” Eve said startled. 

“I know. Get the knife. Now.”

The knife that once sat between the now talking canine and distressed girl was now neatly tucked in Eve’s hand. It’s settled. 

**********************************************************************

“Come in.”

Randy said after three knocks on his office door.  He put down his cigar and pencil, drawing his attention away from his notepad to the disheveled Eve. Her knuckles were bloody and bruised. Her eyes were puffy and red from the tears she shedded. She had a knife in her hand. 

“The fuck are you doing in here. I told you to get your tight ass on set.” 

“Why?” Eve said calmly walking towards his desk. 

“Bitch, why? We have a fucking movie to shoot and you can’t get a fucking simple scene right. That’s why. Now get out of my office.” 

“Why do you act so cold hearted towards me?”

“What? Listen either get out of my office or I will make you get out.”

“Oh I'd like to see you try.” Eve whips around and shuts and locks the door and slams her bruised hands on his desk. 

“Now, tell me now. Before I do something, I am going to regret it.” 

“Bitch I don’t owe you a goddamn thing,” Randy sits up staring her dead in the face. “Now, go back on fucking set or so help me g--” Eve’s hand whips up and send her knife straight under the directors chin, slicing his throat. The adrenaline sends her into a fit of rage and she leaps onto his lap over the desk and continues to stab him repeatedly in the shoulders and head, crying and screaming. “IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU”. Eventually she ceases. Now covered in her tormentor's blood, she cries in his lap. She sniffles and starts to walk towards the door. She knows she’s going to jail. She knows that her life is over. But jail is no comparison to the hell she had to endure from him.  She notices on Randy’s Desk a yellow notepad with her name etched at the top. The color and font of the blue ink pressed on the pad was old and it cried out to the girl, begging her to read it. Eve wiped her hands on Randy’s pants and picked up the notepad and started reading it’s contents:

EVE

The Art of filmmaking doesn’t oftentimes require the effort put forth upon the actors cast and crew. It’s also the director to get their actors to put in their best efforts. Eve was my ultimate test to this new philosophy I created. I didn’t pick her for her acting talent alone, no. I picked her because she grew up well. Two loving parents, upper-middle class lifestyle in Los Angeles, plenty of friends etc. Knowing this and her talent in horror movies, I understand that there may be a grey area when it comes to achieving true fear and paranoia and capturing it on film. So, much rather than encouraging her to undergo method acting, I am going to be doing  a little bit of acting myself. I must belittle, hurt, bully, and cut her down to my best of efforts. She will HATE me. This however will develop a true sense of fear. She will no longer be acting because chet is chasing her character. She will be acting because she will be in fear of me causing more harm to her. This publication will be proof to other directors to follow my footsteps to really push their actors to their limits. I will continually be posting updates on this project of mine during my time filming my horror film. 

Eve covered her mouth in shock. He wasn’t the villain in this story. He just wanted a genuine reaction out of her. To capture a real piece of human terror on film. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know what to do. She teared up as she began to tremble in fear. Her eyes darted back and forth between Randy’s corpse and the Notepad. She just killed a man. The blood was on her hands. There are knocks on the door. Fuck, What should she do. She can’t run. The office is blocked off. They’re calling for Randy. Shit, Shit, SHIT. She’s trapped. This is her first of many cells. Her room to sit in her regret before the mental regret of her actions. The door is barged in and Chet walks in still in his killer costume. He glances over at the body and over at her.

Motionlessly looks at her.

It’s all over for her.

“AAAANNNNNNNNNNND CUT”

“Eve that was fantastic work, your reaction was fucking perfect.” Said the director. 

Eve helped up Randy, who had trouble getting up after she sat on his lap.

“Do we have to do that again, since it was perfect?” Randy said whinyily 

“Unfortunately yes. Over and Over again.”

[asktheseacowvboys]

The events from yesterday when orph was fighting Jerry under the cut))

@aethereus-archangel

«The location of the coordinates was nothing more than a wasteland; rough, cracked soil and rock served as the ground that was as dark as the ash in the air. The cloudy skies roared with thunder. A far off volcano bubbled with activity, making the land warm and unstable.

> Orphas appearified in the barren clearing with an electrical zap and the smell of ozone. As soon as his boots hit the dusty earth, he was overwhelmed with heat and the dry air made his gills prickle. > Fins pinned back, he snarled and took in his surroundings as he looked for the Angel. “Showv yerself ya cowvard!” He hissed.

«A loud hiss and crackle came from the sky as the glowing patterns on the angel’s wings and their halo appeared in the storm clouds above. Jerry let out a loud screech and descended from the clouds. “Actually had the guts to show up huh? You really must have a death wish.” « As the angel spoke, glowing light-gold magic fumed and escaped from their maw.

> He sneered and bared his fangs at the other. “I vwouldn’t call it a death vwish. I vwould call it standing up for myself.” > Growling, he flipped Jerry off and continued. “I am fucking TIRED of you treating me like garbage and making assumptions about me! You saw the fucking line and leapt ovwer it. Cut that Holier Than Thou BULLSHIT and get yer ass dowvn here! You make just as many, if not more, mistakes and terrible decisions as I do, so stop acting like yer better than me! Cuz you AREN’T! YER JUST A PETTY JERK VWHO CAN’T HANDLE SOMEONE ELSE MAKING ENGEL HAPPY!!” > His voice rose from its dangerous hiss to a furious roar as he spoke, and at his last words he whipped his gloves off and threw them to the ground. “NOWV GET DOWVN HERE AND FUCKING FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN YOU CHEATING COWVARD!!!”

«Jerry looked unimpressed at the words and raised the end of their tail, using it to whack orphas into the ground a few times before he stopped. He didn’t use his whole strength, as that would kill orphas. “I am no man, nor am a troll. I am an angel. I am more powerful than you and your gods. Just like engel.

> Winded, he coughed and struggled back to his feet. "The only part of you stronger than a god is yer FUCKING EGO!” He spat. > He furiously dusted himself off and put his fists up again, eyes blazing. His pride may have been wounded, but nothing was broken. Yet.

“I could kill you in a blink of an eye, and so could engel. You worship the ground he stands on! Do you think he likes that?! Do you think that’s what he wants?!” « Jerry smacked orphas back down to the ground with their tail.

> Orphas pushed himself up and spat dirt from his mouth. He pinned his fins back and turned his furious gaze back to Jerry. “AND HOWV DO YOU KNOWV VWHAT HE VWANTS, HUH?! IF HE VWANTS ME TO CHANGE HE SHOULD TELL ME HIMSELF SO VWE CAN DISCUSS HOWV!!! 8UT I VWON’T LISTEN TO A VWORD FROM YER LYING MOUTH!!! YOU JUST VWANT TO PULL US APART, YOU PATHETIC! JEALOUS!! VWORM!!!”

« Jerry growled and smacked orphas harder down, like the bug he was. “I KNOW WHAT IS BEST CAUSE I AM HIS FAMILIAR! I RAISED HIM SINCE I FOUND HIM! I DON’T WANT HIM TO BECOME A MONSTER AGAIN ALL CAUSE OF YOU!!”

> This was really not going as planned, and Orph was pretty sure he felt something crack with that last blow. He hissed in pain but refused to cry out. Like hell he’d give Jerry the satisfaction. > His voice shook as he tried to suck some air into his lungs. “You knowv… nothing! If you… really vwanted… the best for him… You’d ask vwhat HE vwants! Yer just… being selfish! Cuz yer not ready to see him growv up!” > He braced himself for another impact, knowing that Jerry wouldn’t fight fair.

« Jerry didn’t attack. Instead, he lowered his tail to the ground, his glare softened, and he appeared almost sad. “…You are right about that… I am not ready to see him grow up. I don’t want him to have to take the responsibility of being a Seraph… having to be worshipped, and bring back a nearly dead race… But that is what is going to happen. I just want him to have the support he needs when that time comes.”

> When the next smack never came, Orph peeked up at the other. Normally the change of heart would have him softening as well, but he was in pain and still furious over Jerry’s accusations. > Hesitantly lifting himself into a kneeling position, he growled. “So howv does attacking me help him, hm? Howv does hurting the man he lovwes support him? You hurt Engel more than you help him because yer scared of him leavwing the nest. He is my evwerything and I vwill stand by him as long as I livwe. It’s yer owvn fault if he’s unhappy.”

« Jerry growled. “You are the one who wanted to fight! I just was sick and tired of your bitching and stupidity! AND I MAKE EVERYONE UNHAPPY! AND I KNOW THAT, YOU STUPID WATER BUG!” « The magic that fumed from his mouth crackled as he shouted.

> He snarled at the words and pushed himself back to his feet, pointing an accusing claw at the angel. “YOU started this!! YOU accused me of USING the man I LOVWE!!! I VWOULD NEVWER HURT HIM LIKE THAT!! I CAME HERE TO DEFEND MY FUCKING HONOR AND YOU JUST!! KEEP!! HOLDING!! ME!! DOWVN!!!” > Screaming his fury, Orph decaptchalogued a knife and hurled it at Jerry. He knew it would just bounce off, but he was too upset to care.

« The knife didn’t really bounce off so much as the blade shattered on impact. “You wanted to fight; you said fight me, and so we are here. But that is just another poor choice you made. What if I was something else?”

“LIKE VWHAT?!” > He balled his fists as he roared, trying to keep frustrated tears down. “LIKE A SELF CENTERED ASSHOLE THAT VWOULD RATHER KILL INNOCENTS THAN FACE HIS OWVN PRO8LEMS?! LIKE A GIANT, EGOTISTICAL MONSTER THAT HOLDS HIS POWVER OVWER THOSE VWEAKER THAN HIM?! LIKE A HEARTLESS 8ASTARD THAT 8URDENS HIS MOIRAIL SO THEY FEEL TERRI8LE A8OUT THEMSELVWES AND REFUSE TO LEAVWE THE NEST?!?!” > As he worked himself up into more and more of a rage, Orphas pulled another weapon, a pistol this time, and emptied his ineffective bullets at the Angel. “I'VWE FOUGHT 8EASTS MORE GRISLY AND CRUEL THAN YOU!!! 8UT THEY ALL HAD THE STONES TO FIGHT ME AT MY LEVWEL!!!!! YOU GODDAMN FUCKING COWVARD!!!!!!!”

« Jerry didn’t get angry; they just looked at orphas, unphased by his words. “You are not worth my time, Orphas. We are beings from completely different planes of existence. And the same goes for you and Engel.

"THEN VWHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE VWHAT OUR RELATIONSHIP IS?! IF IM NOTHING TO YOU, THEN VWHY DO YOU 8OTHER TRYING SO HARD TO RUIN US?! AND DON’T YOU DARE SAY, ‘I DON’T CARE’, CUZ IF YOU DIDN’T THEN YOU VWOULDN’T 8E DOING THIS!!” > Orphas was running out of ways to show his frustration, so he stormed over and kicked Jerry’s tail as hard as he could.

“Because your relationship is unhealthy! As I said, you worship him, you don’t see him as a being! Do you know his favorite color? The sweets he adores the most? WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ENGEL AS A LIVING BEING WITH THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS?!” « Jerry growled and spat at orphas, smacking him weakly away from his tail and looking him in the eye as he spoke.

“It-it’s not… I d-don’t…” > Orphas fell back in dismay, dust kicking up around where he landed on his ass. A look of horror and pain crossed his face as he realized he’d never asked his mate such questions. He’d always been joking around with Engel when he wasn’t comforting him or messing around. “I….. I don’t…. Knowv…..”

« Jerry did not respond at first. His bad eye ached and burned as he only looked down at orphas. The silence spoke for itself… and the angel closed his eyes. “This fight is over. No one won. Think about what I have said, or at least…. think about it all.” « The archangel turned away from orphas, thinking of the talk he would go and have with his familiar next….