#ask: the fatal marksman

[cryptidsncurios]

* 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚁𝙿 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 | Accepting! @mundmutter sent: ❝   i gave you my heart, my dear.   ❞ for kh xig >:)

If he’d had allowed himself to listen to what little heart he had, it would likely be breaking right now.

But Xigbar was capable of steeling himself against all odds---no matter the pain, the cruelty, the way that, if he’d taken even a single moment to spare her a glance, he would understand just how desperate she was.

He was determined: it would not sway him.

And so his back turned to her---fully, coldly. It was something he should have done a long time ago, back when he’d first come to inhabit Braig’s body. He should have cut every tie, disposed of every emotion. It was something that Luxu had become so very excellent at doing---but he’d been foolish this time around, and was now reaping what seeds he had sewn.

Never again.

His voice was low, but it pierced the lingering silence like the sharpest knife:

“Bad decision, babe.”

#mundmutter #ic: the fatal marksman #ask: the fatal marksman #v: so you wanna pretend you're not a manipulative bodysnatcher #prompt: indie songs rp meme #ooc: queue

[valorant-drabbles]

I am in dire need of more iso x reader so bad

Can I ask for Iso x cold! sniper! reader Can be platonic or romantic if it's okay (・∀・)

So reader has been part of the protocol for a while before iso (they joined just after gekko) and she's still a lone wolf then enters Iso. They would always coincidentally bump into each other and reader would just nod at him and walk past him even though Iso tries to strike up a conversation. (also reader is prone to getting hurt all the time whether it's on a mission or just a normal everyday fistfight with strangers)

One mission Iso and reader were both in the same team, timeskip to team entering battle, so reader pushes Iso out of the way and takes a hit resulting in reader being critically injured so when they got back to HQ Iso confronts them

Thanks for requesting! I will say, this was a little tough considering I don’t know much about Iso’s personality aside from what it says on the wiki. I apologize if this is ooc! Hopefully I did him justice!

Gender-Neutral Reader written, but input whichever gender you prefer/identify as if you’d like!

Summary: Lone wolf Reader keeps their distance from everyone- even from the newest recruit, Iso. Despite his best efforts to be friendly, conversations are avoided or cut short. But one fatal injury on the battlefield is the final straw, before Iso decides that he’s had enough of the ‘stand-off-ish’ façade, and demands answers. Does the reader actually give a shit or not?

Warnings: Some cursing, critical injury (nothing graphic), near death experience, possibly ooc Iso?

Word Count: 2.3k

Cold Shoulder

Reader x Iso

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

~

When Iso initially joined the Protocol, he was expecting to be treated with an air of caution. He was, quite literally, an assassin. And to boot, one that had been requested to target one of the Protocol's agents; Omen. Many were still skeptical of him- and he couldn't exactly blame them. For all they know, he could've joined Valorant to make his job easier to finish.

It had been a fair few weeks by that point. Some of the agents had come around, seeing that Iso wasn't just out for blood and, in fact, was seeking haven within their walls. His skills in the field proved expert, proving further to any doubters amongst VP's ranks that he was worth the risk; the myth incarnate.

Though he was far from the most impressive in the field. As arrogant as Iso could be, even he couldn't doubt the abilities of his fellow agents; with Reyna and Chamber both being most fascinating to him. The empress herself, and the expert marksman... could there be a more intriguing member to be drawn to?

Yes, actually.

Expert sniper rivalling even Chamber's ability, Y/N was incredible to witness on the battlefield, and Iso very quickly found himself drawn to his fellow agent. Swift, precise, seemingly always appearing at the right moment to save someone's ass; hell, even Yoru couldn't help but be grateful for Y/N's sharp eye.

Unfortunately for him, Y/N was notorious amongst the agents for being one of the coldest people there, keeping to themselves when not on a mission; even proving a tad short-tempered at times as well. They had quite the record for starting fights with certain agents-- okay, yes, it was Yoru, and yes, it was very much warranted.

Yet... Y/N intrigued him still. As a result, he did his very best to get on their good side. Complimenting their aim after a particularly close call, offering to grab them some coffee on cold mornings... he'd even tried to strike up a conversation once or twice. To no avail, sadly. But it didn't stop him from trying. He was nothing if not persistent.

"Y/N!" Iso raised his hand in greeting, as he spotted you across the hall, supposedly heading his way. Another chance, he thought- maybe he'd get some progress today. Y/N had noticed the newest agent greeting them, and nodded firmly in recognition. Did Iso... just get acknowledged? That was a first with you! It excited him a bit more than perhaps he might've thought.

"I saw you in the shooting range earlier... looked like you were having a competition with Phoenix. Heard you wiped the floor with him, good job." Iso started as you approached him. You gave a small shrug in response, hands in your pockets as your sniper rifle hung off your back. "It wasn't much of a challenge. He was too distracted with trying to impress me to... well, impress me. It was finished rather quick."

That didn't surprise Iso in the slightest. Phoenix did have a slight ego, always feeling the need to try and impress the newer agents in hopes of gaining their respect. So far it'd only really worked with Gekko and Harbor... and that was enough for him to do it even more frequently.

Before the assassin could open his mouth to add anything to the conversation, he found himself being brushed by rather quickly by you. His eyebrows knit together slightly in frustration as he turned just as you passed, reaching out to grab your shoulder.

"Y/N, wait-"

"Don't touch me." You scolded coldly, your tone enough to startle Iso into retracting his hand immediately. He cursed himself internally- why had he done that? He must've broken a boundary by touching you, even if it was innocently. Fuck.

"I'm sor-"

Slam went a door in his face. Your door. To your room. Had he been standing in front of your door this whole time...? God, how creepy he must've come off, he thinks. How come things always went to poorly when he tried to talk to you...?

Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair, with the sound of his lone footsteps echoing down the now-empty hall. With an air of defeat, he resigned to go to his own room for the night. Maybe he'd have better luck with you tomorrow...

---------

A few days had passed since Iso's failed conversation attempt, and things with you were still as barren as ever. It frustrated him to no end, but there really wasn't much else he could do.

All too soon came the day when you and Iso were sent on a mission together. You seemed as indifferent as ever, whilst Iso saw it as another opportunity to try and win some form of your favor. But god, was he ever trying hard not to come off as overbearing.

The team was ordered to defend B site of Pearl, one of Iso's favorite spots out of all the locations the Protocol would send them; primarily because you were in your element. Staring down B Main with an Operator set up, waiting, watching... It'd be a lie to say that Iso wasn't staring. Your focus and intensity was... fascinating to watch. Iso was positioned at B Screen, meant to watch the side of the pillar that was out of your range. Emphasis on 'meant' to watch... As he was far too busy watching you in action to actually focus.

A bullet from your classic shot past him, jolting him out of his daze as he caught your glare. "Iso, focus. They could be rushing us any second." You scolded. As a result, Iso's face grew a fine shade of red out of embarrassment. You'd definitely just caught him staring, now he was completely thrown off. God. Could this mission get any worse, even though it barely started?

As if on cue, the mirror agents had rushed by the box atop B Ramp. Your heart dropped for a moment as you saw an enemy Chamber quickly set up from behind the box, scope aimed directly for Iso's head. Goddammit.

"Iso!" You shout to him, panic evident in your voice, which was... definitely new. Your tone was usually so monotone, empty, uncaring- but the second you saw your teammate's life in danger-

You were moving before you knew what was happening, abandoning your operator at your position as you ran forward. You'd managed to grab his arm, forcefully yanking him down as a bullet whizzed past, missing Iso by mere milliseconds. Now disoriented, Iso was shaken by his shoulders, meeting your steely gaze.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Aren't you supposed to be some kind of... myth or some shit? Where is your head at?" You hissed at him, causing Iso to swallow the nervous lump suddenly in his throat. Why was he so off his game today? Was it solely the fact he was put on a mission, at the same site as you? Was it--

Bullets began raining through the screen they were ducked behind, relentlessly. That was an Odin in action, easily- the inaccurate bullet holes said that much, since they were shooting from so far away-- though before you could properly assess the situation and form a plan, or even call for backup- you felt a searing pain in your shoulder. A pained hiss escaped from you as you instinctively pushed Iso away. Then another bullet, then another-

Before you could take more hits, you found Iso in front of you, sending his shield forward to stop anymore bullets from reaching you.

Throwing you into his arms, Iso took a running start and slid into B hall, where your operator was, setting you down by a wall. "Sage, I need backup at B site immediately!" Iso shouted into his coms, as he positioned himself at your Operator. His eyes bore into your soul as you felt a strong dizziness overtake you, the sound of the gunfire becoming a ringing in your ears.

"Don't you dare die on me, Y/N."

The last thing you remember is Iso firing your Operator, and the sound of the Odin stopping.

------------

You awaken to the dim lighting of the infirmary, and a soreness throughout your torso. Moving to sit up was painful, forcing you to move slower as you got a feel for your surroundings. Looked to be about 3AM, based on the deafening silence. And the clock on the wall was a helpful indicator as well. Duh.

You rubbed your face, still feeling completely drained and exhausted. Looking down at your torso, you see nothing but a few new scars, presumably from where you'd been shot. A shoulder shot, one to the side, and one just narrowly avoiding your stomach. Any more bullets and you'd look like swiss cheese.

Once your senses were fully awake, you became acutely aware of another presence in the room. Your eyes shot towards where you sensed this presence, expecting to find Sage or maybe even Skye-

"Iso?"

Iso had been sat in a chair nearly, eyes closed resting, with a single earbud playing music into his ear. Usually he'd have both in and completely tune everything out after a mission- something you'd noticed the first few times you'd gone on a mission with him. A little thing to notice, you thought to yourself.

At the sound of your voice, though a tad hoarse from having just woken up, Iso's attention was directed to you immediately. His eyes widened in both surprise and relief, as he tossed his earbuds aside, and slid his chair over to your bedside. "Oh thank god. You've been out for days, I was starting to think Sage lied to me when she said you were stable." His voice was drenched in relief.

"You told me not to die on you. So I didn't. Just following orders." You started, earning a slight glare from your fellow agent, who didn't seem too pleased.

"Uh- no. No more of that." He interrupted you before you could say anything else, holding his hand up, as if to tell you it was his turn to speak. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "No more of what-?" You prompt slowly, not entirely sure why he seemed so upset. You were fine, weren't you?...

"This... whole thing you do!" Iso gestured vaguely at you, trying to find the proper words to convey his frustration, but it only left you more confused- and a little irritated.

"What are you talking abou-"

"You pretend not to give a shit about anybody, you give everyone the cold shoulder- you make it clear you don't want to associate with any of us. And then, for some reason, you basically throw yourself in front of an Odin to save me? Risked your life for someone who you've only ever pushed aside?" Iso's eyes narrowed at you as he speaks. You feel a strange nervousness twinge in your chest.

"Sage had to resurrect you, Y/N. You literally died for me! I just... don't understand what your deal is!"

You didn't notice until now, but... Iso was holding your hand in both his own. His voice was wavering, but he dared not subject you to anything further than that to show his fear.

You find yourself averting your gaze, noticing there's a single lilac on the table next to your bed.

"I... I apolog-... No. I'm sorry, Iso." You correct yourself, your usually-tense shoulders shifting to a more relaxed position, despite your mild discomfort at being called out like this. Had you really been so cold towards the other agents?

"Listen, I-... Don't exactly have an explanation that'll satisfy you." You admitted softly, causing Iso's gaze to soften in return. Sighing, you continue. "I've always... worked on my own. I never found a need to make connections with the people I happen to work alongside, because I know that... one of us is inevitably gonna leave, or die. It'll cause more grief than anything, getting close to people, only for them to be taken in the blink of an eye. I've been through my fair share of loses... and I'm just sick of how terrible it feels. It's better for me to just get by without getting too attached. Nobody gets hurt that way."

"I don't think you're thinking about this right at all." Iso piped up quietly, though there was an air of understanding laced in his words. "I was a fixer, Y/N. I worked solely on my own, like you. If I crossed the wrong kind of people, anyone I cared about could become weapons to be used against me for blackmail. It was only after joining the Protocol that I started opening up to others. After all, Valorant has promised to protect me from my employers, so any connections I make within Valorant are... safe. This is the only place I feel like I can make friends that won't be used against me, I guess." He wasn't able to keep his cheeks from reddening. Admitting all this was new for him, but... he thought that if he shared his own experience with you, maybe it would provide you the comfort you need to do what he did.

The silence in the room was heavy, and yet... it was oddly comforting to you. You actually had someone who understood where you come from. A small smile found its way onto your face, as you allowed your gaze to meet Iso's.

"I guess despite my best efforts... I ended up caring about someone after all. Some idiot who almost got a bullet to the forehead." You couldn't help but smirk faintly as you flicked Iso's forehead, causing the man to flinch in response. He shot you a slight glare, though no malice could be detected behind his eyes. He let out a sigh, shaking his head slowly.

"You're... never gonna let me live that down, are you, Y/N?"

"Nope."

#valorant x reader #valorant #valorant iso #valorant fanfiction #valorant agents

[clansocreations]

For Audio Drama Ask Game: 1, 5 and 12?

Okay so

1. First audiodrama you've ever listened to?

Depends on your definition I guess!

Excuse me one moment while I indulge in memories of my personal Hörspiel CD era. (Those who know me know exactly which CDs because I never shut up about them. And then I also liked radio stuff later I guess it really depends)

Like really I have been known to hold very long PowerPoint slideshows on this.

Also the Magnus Archives.

5. Audio (drama) specific trope you like.

Eyes. WEVE GOT EYES FOR DAYS FELLAS. Also that in horror podcasts there is (apart from a few usual suspects) none of the stuff that makes horror movies unbearable for me. Turns out just because I'm an absolute horror movie wimp doesn't mean I don't still have a taste for the morbid and weird and scary as fuck.

And this just. Works.

12. OHHHH THIS SURE IS A SPICY ONE

What public domain work would you adapt if you could

OH MY WORD I've never considered this but like. How awesome could a Freischütz audiodrama be. Or just a Gespensterbuch themed anthology.

The most famous story in that collection only exists as a folk tale, opera and musical (the latter with music by Tom Waits, I've seen it just this year and it's SO COOL, it's called the Black Rider and like. So good. Mhm.)

Also like. There's a forest. There's doomed love. And it's originally from a book of stories literally called "the ghost book" (Gespensterbuch)

Although in that same book there is also the story about the guy who played his instrument and a graveyard at night and suddenly had a very undead crowd of skeletons dancing the jig. Iirc.

That rabbit hole goes deep you guys. Anyways. If ya wanna read these and judge their anthologyworthiness there's an English version on Wikisource for both these stories which I shall link to promptly .

I'd love to hear those fully fleshed out especially Totentanz like can you imagine the sound design for a whole crowd of skeletons going all

Y'know?

[madmarchhare]

Another exert from my 'When the Times Change' novel.

It's in the same chapter as the last one, really just a few paragraphs from it. Hope you like, and again this is a post apocalypse story, so if you don't think that's for you, don't read it. Hope you all like it!

“Why should I listen to you, you’re accomplices to it!” Her face a deep crimson in fury. Bullet looked slightly wounded by her comment but quickly wiped it off his face, keeping mostly to anger and worry.

“No, we aren’t, all we do is let it go by and mind our own people.” His voice firm as he spoke.

Again Lil’ flared up, yelling In a booming voice that echoed in the street and caught the attention of the thinning crowds in the street and a few idle eyes from house windows or porches; “It’s slavery! How in the hell can you just, ‘let it go by’?!” Her rant let me know what was going on. Namely Lil’ was throwing one of her little hissy fits at the realities of the world and her little noble speeches. Bullet himself looked at her hard from under his hat, keeping himself tall, his shoulders straight.

“We can because there is no way we can stop it. They have more men, guns, and pure and simple cash than us. There is no point in risking the lives of my people just for the sake of a bunch of strangers. Who, in our position, would at best ignore us and at worst buy us for themselves. I have a duty to this town and its people as it’s leader.” Pausing as he spoke, stepping close, a more sorrowful look on his face for some reason. “And I can’t compromise that for the sake of saving some unknown strangers.” He finished jabbing his finger onto her chest, agitation having bled back onto his face, growling out with his sentence.

Lil’ made a slight growl in response, and batted his hand away, both mirroring each others expression their agitation placed plainly on their faces. “Well, I’m helping them, regardless of what you think, and you yellow fucks better not interfere.” She replied, turning her back to them and shoving me ahead of her, almost daring me to join Bullet and Max’s protests. So that she could just off me right now, a manic look deep down in her eyes, that I doubted even she was aware of, glinting within them like a kukri blade.

“Wait!” Max suddenly called out to us, or more specifically, them. Lil’ cocked her head back, agitatedly, turning her side to them, a snarl on her mouth. Expecting to be stopped by force. “If you’re going to do this, you’ll need some help.” Max finished, Lil’ looking caught off guard for a moment, the same being said for Bullet, who gave Max an odd glance, but the latter put up a hand as he was asking him to trust him, and Bullet rolled his eyes slightly and walked up with him. “We can’t help you, and most of the people of this town have got too much on their plates already.” Lil’ managing a neutral expression as she listened Rock doing the same at her side, but an edge of disapproval still carving its way out of Lil’s gaze. “But there is someone mad, and capable enough to help you. An old marksman who lives in town, Mr G. Morgan. He keeps, or kept trying to get us to go after the slavers too. To ‘take up arms against oppressors’. But no one goes with him anymore. Used to, but, It was usually just him who came back.” Looking dead in Lil’s eyes as he spoke, hoping to drive home the fatality, and pointlessness of fighting, trying to use reason. As usual, she didn’t care for reason.

He sighed slightly and continued. “He lives in a house down the main road, stays on watch signing old songs to himself. Tall man with short grey hair, dressed in flannel and tan coloured trousers. Can’t miss him.” Gesturing down the road to the house where I had seen the man with the revolver. Lil’ inspected the two for another moment, her face flickering between begrudging gratitude and disgust, but she eventually stilled her expression and nodded to the pair, managing a smile, and walked down the road, Rock following on silently after, weaving themselves through the now near empty street to the house.

 The man was still sat on his porch, appearing to stare wildly off into a distance that wasn’t there, spinning a large spent brass case about in his fingers absent-mindedly, not taking note of it himself. He was a reasonably tall man, not as tall as Bullet or Lil’ but would tower over most people. His skin was tanned and creased like old leather, marked by scars and pockmarks. He was dressed in a faded red flannel shirt, over which he wore a thin tan jacket that just covered past his shoulder, leaving his thick arms exposed. Cuts laced across his forearms, hidden slightly by old muscle. A similar tan coloured pair of trousers with a spiral of thread going up the legs and rugged leather belt round his waist, a holster holding a gigantic revolver hanging off it, any finish once on it gone, but not bearing a single vestige of ill use.

He turned his head to us quickly and looked deeply at us with a pair of beetle black eyes, irises like pin pricks. His face was hard and thick, an untended moustache wriggling like a massive white insect on his lip, an old scar splitting upwards through it, cutting it in two. His marbled grey hair poked out slightly onto his brow from under a faded rifleman’s cap, old curtains tacked on it’s back to cover his neck and ears. “Mr Morgan?” Lil’ began her voice firm and unwavering as she posed her question.

“What do you want?” He replied brusquely, speaking in a sort of country voice, his tone sharp.

“We heard that you would help us fight the slavers.” Lil’ replied, her voice clear as she continued on with her nonsense. At this he seemed to jostle slightly in his seat.

“You’re fighting them?” A curious excitement in his voice along with a note of disbelief, a small smile tugging at his left lip.

“Yes since no one else seems to be doing it. “A loathing sourness deep in her voice as she spoke, a sneer pulling itself to attention on her lips. His smile broke wide on his face, pulling up the other side, and he jumped out of his chair, his boots clomping loudly on the wooden decking.

“Then let us go.” Reaching into his house and deftly pulling a rucksack from behind the wall, as well as some steel plate which he tied to his limbs as he walked, a gravely laugh howling into the midday sky, like a mad dog’s bark. Great. Another lunatic moralist. Both Lil’ and Rock followed after him, looking pleased, dragging me with them. He took them down the road to the town hall where both Bullet and Max stood laden with weapons. I hoped they were here to finally stop them, realising their error, to force them to concede and move one, ending this idiotic charade of a crusade. Or at the very least shoot them so I could finally get on and do as I please.

Lil’ looked ready to fight, if need be, but Bullet just raised his hand to stop her. He wasn’t hiding the irritation on his face, yet he look oddly accepting, “we aren’t here to stop you,” dammit, “we came here to accompany you to the ridge.” Getting confused looks from the pair in response, Morgan nodding genially. “I am the mayor of this town, and it is my job to protect its people. Morgan is one of its people, so we’ll come to make sure he’s safe.” Lil’ looked like she was about to say something, likely on the lines of how Bullet finally saw the ‘error of his ways’ or some other stupid shit. But Bullet cut her off again. “But we’re only guiding you to the ridge, no further.” His face stiff as he finished, clearly unsettled in his decision. Honestly, it would be far easier for the town just to shoot the pair and be done with it.

Lil’ looked hard at him and Max for a second, making her displeasure with them clear on her face, but then nodded and motioned for Morgan to lead on. As they moved on, I opened my mouth to protest and try and be left behind, but Rock whirled around at me with a wild gaze, baring his teeth.

I shut up, none of the three strangers noticing that little exchange. I’m surrounded by idiots.

@agarespicero @gaap-goemon-ismylife @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @shark-smuggler @shaoron @irumeanie @sleepy-gry @pemopemochimi @csoisoi @the-messenger-hawk @momonoki-a-real-teacher @trans-asmodeus @noyakwajhang

#When the Times Change #Asriel Yuri Lemoni #Lillian Duke #Rockerfeller #Max. C. Connors #Bullet. S. Lee #HMAD #George. T. Morgan

[verumheart-a]

@ larxene: haha fivehead

{⚡}- Pulls on his eyepatch and lets it snap back against his face. “Look who’s talking. Your hairline recedes any further and you’ll look like you’re nothing but forehead.”

#maybe xig could see she's not a fivehead better if he had TWO eyes #thefatalmarksman #the fatal marksman? more like the fatal meanieman!! ha! got 'em #a distant voice || asks #it has been a century – no one to be found || ic; larxene

[justkending]

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody...

                              1700 Follower Drabble!

A/N: Oh goodness gracious!! I’ve hit 1700 beautiful and loving followers. Everyone of you bringing more and more light into my world:’) In honor of you all helping me fulfill my dream as a writer and supporting me along the way, here is a little drabble for all you sweet humans. I can’t thank you enough, and I can’t express my love for each of you enough as well... 

-So, I stole from my prompt list on an old challenge I did and created a drabble of my own with them! Hope you enjoy my lovelies<3

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5000+

Prompts:

“I actually did my hair for the first time in 3 months. I think I deserve a medal for this. “

“Dude, it’s 3 in the morning.”

____________

The banging was loud and profusely consistent as Y/N sat up from sleep with a groan. She sent a death glare to the door as if it was the culprit to waking her, but she knew it was one of her teammates that would soon be dead...

“What?!” she said bitterly, quickly tearing open the door. 

Bucky was on the other side with a slick grin showing his amusement to the situation. Her hair disheveled from sleep and eyes filled with hatred, but the sports bra and tight sleep shorts were doing something for her in her annoyed state.

“Mission. Be in the helicarrier in bay 3 in 20 minutes,” he said with a smirk before turning in his step to walk away.

“Dude, it’s 3 in the morning!” she shouted after him.

“Evil doesn’t sleep,” he responded without looking back.

All he heard from behind him was a strangled groan mixed with a muffled scream as she went back in her room and slammed the door. 

____________

The last to board the helicarrier, Y/N walked in throwing her things to the side, and sat in a seat immediately falling to her side to fall asleep again.

“Wake up, Y/N. We have to do a briefing,” Bucky said, slapping her boot. 

“I swear to God. Do you have a deathwish?” she growled, begrudgingly sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 

“Really not a morning person this one,” Nat laughed coming around the corner. Y/N sending her a glare as well, but not nearly as deadly as the one she saved specifically for Bucky. “Come on. We’ll make it quick, and then we have a 4 hour flight. You can sleep then,” she nodded toward the briefing area of the giant plane. 

Taking a deep breath she stood up following the rest of the team with Bucky behind her. 

“Cicely Rosmarie DeLuca. Daughter of Ramone DeLuca who is a well known crime boss in Italy. Seems to run in the family as Cicely has taken over the control of her family's business within the last 2 years,” Steve explained pulling up pictures on the screen as everyone sat with informational packets on the group in front of them.

“Since when did we start handling crime bosses?” Sam spoke up.

Everyone who had been on this particular mission included; Nat, Sam, Bucky, Steve, Y/N, and Wanda. So if this many Avengers were needed, clearly something much bigger than just crime bosses were involved. 

“Because the DeLuca’s are working with a division group of Hydra. We think they aren’t really in it for what Hydra wants, but more so gaining the alli and making some money on the side,” Steve sighed. “It looks like they have a means to steal plans that could wreak havoc on confidential equipment that we have in the works. Stuff that could easily be modified to become world wide dangers.”

“I have an idea,” Y/N spoke up. The whole crew turned to her. “Let’s just stop creating things that can destroy planet Earth. I feel like that’s a healthy start to creating the safe environment we’ve been fighting so hard to preserve over all these years.” The grin on her face was big and sarcastic and quickly dropped to a bitch face. 

“You can’t help but be a smartass all hours of the day, can you sweetheart?” Bucky groaned a few seats ahead of her. The pet name only there because he knew how much it annoyed her.

“And you can’t help but be a nuisance to my life all hours of the day, can you jackass?” she retorted. 

“You guys. Focus,” Steve interrupted, sending the two his Captain look. “You’re going to have to get along for this mission because we’re going undercover, and we only have one night to get this right.”

“Undercover how?” Wanda asked. 

“There’s a gala in Venice. From what we’ve gathered, the information will be swapped there. We need to hunt it down discreetly and capture the agents working with Hydra. From there, we’ll bring them in for questioning and figure out where exactly they are getting their information from. We believe we have a spy within our facility that’s leaking all the confidential knowledge.”

“And if these Hydra agents happen to do what Hydra does best and kill themselves before we can get anything out of them, then what?” Y/N asked. 

“Ever the optimist,” Bucky mumbled. No one else paid mind to it, but Y/N kicked the back of his chair making him turn and send yet another glare at her.

“We’ve prepared for that,” Steve said, nodding to Nat to go to the next slide. “We have devices, drugs, and antidotes in case cyanide becomes involved. The capsules of drug and equipment being used incapacitates them long enough to get them back to our base and keep in holding. From there, we will take other precautions to keep them from doing anything stupid that involves cyanide. Again, we don’t know if that will be the case, but with our history with Hydra, they have yet to prove us wrong.”

“So basically, you’re bringing us to go to a party to roofie Hydra agents. I gotta say, not what I was expecting from our high tech division,” Y/N nodded with a small laugh.

“It’s the best way to keep discrete and not cause a scene or hopefully any fatalities at the gala. They are using a charity for cover, and I rather not actual good people get hurt in the end,” Steve sighed. “Now, we land in 3 and a half hours. Once landed get your gear ready, look over your profiles, and get prepared for the gala. Like I said we are going undercover, so look your best.”

“This doesn’t happen to be a black tie gala, does it?” Bucky asked. 

“What gala isn’t?” Sam retorted. 

“Suits are already ready to go in the other room. Ladies, our dresses are in section 11 of the ship,” Nat explained, standing and gathering her things. “Y/N, that means you're going to figure out how to walk in heels,” she smirked. 

“I think we’ll need more time than you’re giving us for that to ever be convincing,” Bucky snickered. Sam laughed too. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I’ve done missions like this before. Just because I don’t wear an evening gown everyday, doesn’t mean I can’t pull one off,” she stood, walking by and flicking the back of Bucky’s head. 

Her, Nat, and Wanda leaving the room while Bucky held the crown of his head in vexation. 

“Son of a-” he started going to stand and retaliate. 

“Buck, I’m going to need you to pull it together for one night,” Steve said, cutting him off from his path to harass Y/N. “You and Y/N are teammates. So either put on a face or suck it up for the night.”

“I’m not the one you need to be telling that too. The she-witch in there is going to be the one to mess it up if any of us,” Bucky argued.

“Y/N is a well trained spy and the best marksman on the team as of right now. She will do her job and you’ll do yours. You have to let the petty fighting go for one night, ok?”

“Come on Cap. You know it’s more than just petty arguments. Bucks gotta crush,” Sam said singing the last words.

With wide eyes, Bucky turned to Sam. “I do not! She’s nothing but an annoying headache added to my life... Scratch that. Migraine.”

“That’s what someone with a crush would say,” Sam said with a grin and squinted eyes. 

“I don’t have a-” Bucky started.

“Hey Cap. Nat needs you real quick,” Y/N said poking her head back in. Everyone turned to her as if they just got caught doing an illegal act and stayed silent. “Did I walk in on something?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I’ll be there in a second.” 

She nodded before giving everyone a furrowed eyebrow in confusion as she left. “Weirdos,” she mumbled walking away.

Steve let out a deep sigh. “Just behave yourself tonight. If you do, Y/N will too.” He walked to leave the room. 

“Yeah, right,” Bucky scoffed. 

“Yeah, your 100% smitten,” Sam laughed walking past him out of the room.

“No, I’m not!”

__________________

The time had come. Everyone was prepared. Lookouts were in their designated spots, any tech that was being used was up and live, and everyone was about to meet at the Gala. 

“Ok, Nat, you’re with me tonight. Sam and Wanda you two will be with each other. And Bucky and Y/N, you two will be partners as well,” Steve explained over the coms. 

All the women had arrived just a few minutes later and the men were already scoping out the place.

“Wait, what?” Bucky responded back. Sam standing next to him.

“Oh, he definitely did that on purpose,” Sam chuckled. 

“Why the hell would he? We don’t work well together,” Bucky groaned, looking around for her. 

“Well, you better figure it out. At least for tonight,” Sam patted his back, taking a champagne glass from the passing waiter and moving to find his chosen partner. 

Bucky rolled his eyes into another dimension thinking about the all annoying arguments that he was sure would be apart of the night.

“Fine, Y/N what are you wearing?” Bucky asked in the comms.

“James, I’m flattered, but I don’t really like you in that way,” her sass came back through the ear piece. 

“Steve,” Bucky groaned. 

“Guy’s stop it. Y/N tell Bucky what you're wearing so we can start this mission. We don’t have all night,” Steve instructed with irritation. 

“A black dress,” she sighed. 

“Wow, real descriptive. Let me just search through all 500 of them I see,” Bucky said sarcastically. 

“I’m by the rip off Vincent van Gogh painting on the east side. Next to the waterfall,” she explained. 

Bucky took a deep breath walking over in her direction. It was a really crowded place, so maneuvering through people to find her became difficult. That was until he reached the fountain she was talking about, and the people had thinned out some. 

Glancing all around, he couldn’t pick her out from all the black dresses he’d seen. 

“Y/N, where the hell are you?” he whisper shouted in the comms. No answer. “Of fucking course no answer,” he said to himself. 

But upon sharper inspection, he noticed her face in the distance. 

And holy shit. 

That did not look like the Y/N he was used to. I mean it did, but she was usually a natural beauty. Not that she wasn’t right now, but done up the way she was was a whole different kind of beauty. 

Her dress was a black off the shoulder evening gown. The middle section of it was a see through mesh, and the top part of it looked as if it she had a bra on full display. Only bringing more attention to her perfectly modeled torso. Her hair was done in an elegant, but messy, kind of braid. The whole ensemble flowing together and creating an refined and formal Y/N that Bucky had never got the chance before tonight to see. 

Having looking that stunning, Bucky wasn’t surprised to see the men around her glance her way. However, the man that was only a few feet into her space and talking up a storm looked to be making Y/N uncomfortable. She had on a fake smile trying not to bring attention to herself, but disgust to the older and space invading man, was showing in her eyes.

Quickly, Bucky maneuvered to her.

“There you are, doll,” he smiled widely at her, putting his arm out and wrapping it around her waist as he pulled her side into him. “I must have gone to the wrong fountain looking for you,” he winked. 

As if in instinct, she leaned into his side and brought her hand to his chest lightly patting it. 

“Oh dear, you and your directionally challenged self. I can’t take you anywhere,” she laughed in a surprisingly domestic way. 

“Oh, is this your-?” the older, and now looking at him closer, creepy man started looking Bucky up and down. 

“My date, yes,” she answered. “If you’ll excuse us, we have some other friends that we were supposed to be meeting with,” she patted Bucky’s chest. “Right, honey?”

Lost while staring down at Y/N, he didn’t answer right away, but when he looked back at the old man who had a suspicious look on his face, he snapped out of it. 

“Uh, yes. If you’ll excuse us,” he said offering his arm, which she took and intertwined herself into him. 

They walked away quickly before the man could say anything else and once a good distance away, Y/N let out a deep sigh. 

“Take it you weren’t the one that approached him?” Bucky chuckled. 

“99% of the time it’s not the woman doing the approaching. It’s the sexually frustrated, overcompensating, and egotistic assholes that do,” she shook her head. 

Ok that made him chuckle a little.

“Well, glad I could be of service,” Bucky nodded looking around them. If he was going to stay focused on the mission, he couldn’t be looking at her. She had proven herself to be a distraction for the night while looking like that. 

“Yes, thank you. I would have done something about it, but I don’t think throat punching someone in the middle of a gala would have been normal entertainment for these people,” she said almost in disgust at the crowd around them. All prissy and rich, donating only a 164th of their wealth to try and not come off as greedy. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that right. Did you just say… Thank you?” Bucky teased. 

“Don’t push your luck, Barnes,” she countered, but when she looked up at him there was a small smile on her dark maroon lips. A look Bucky had never really been on the receiving end of. 

He returned it in surprise and noticed just how devastatingly gorgeous she looked up close. Had she always been this stunning and Bucky never noticed. Ok, well he had noticed, but with the constant fighting and bickering they did, it was hard to focus on it. 

Without thinking, his thoughts spilled out. “You look very nice tonight,” he said to her. Instantly blushing and looking away.

“A compliment? I didn’t know you knew how to use those,” she gasped teasingly. 

“Don’t push your luck, Y/L/N,” he retorted back. The smile still stuck on his face. 

“Time out. Are we being civil right now?” she asked, halting her steps. Bucky stopped and looked back at her. 

“It’s possible if you just learn how to be less aggravating,” he smirked. 

“There it is. Whew, I was worried we were getting along for a second,” she laughed, continuing their walk.

Bucky hadn’t heard that laugh ever. At least not directed to something he had said. And damn, he liked it. Why the hell did he have to like it?

 “You know? I actually did my hair for the first time in 3 months. I think I deserve a medal for this,” she added. 

“I don’t think they give out medals for that,” Bucky couldn’t help himself, but laugh with her. 

“Well, they should. It took quite a bit of effort. Doing hair could be an olympic spot in itself,” she shrugged. 

“Ok, everyone in their sections?” Steve’s voice came through the comms.

“Good here,” Sam spoke up. 

“We’re set here,” Y/N checked in.

“Great. Keep an eye out for the individuals we’re here for. Y/N, Bucky, you guys keep an eye on the DeLuca’s. If they venture off from the party, it could be the meeting we’re here for. So follow and keep us updated,” Steve instructed. 

“Got it, Cap,” Bucky voiced in. “Alright, shall we mingle?” he asked, looking down at Y/N.

“I mean, if we must,” she deflated some on his arm, but quickly put on a mask straightening and acting as if she went to an event like this every weekend. 

______________

They conversed, they faked life stories with the rich, they drank, and they easily convinced everyone around them they were just another pair of investors. The mission was doing fine other than the fact, nothing suspicious had happened yet. 

The was until, Y/N was getting her 4th drink and Bucky noticed Cicely DeLuca was conversing with someone they had kept an eye on all night. And now, was headed off to another room with them. 

“Y/N,” Bucky said coming up behind her. “They're moving.”

Y/N took a long sip of the wine in her hand. She squinted toward the group and nodded. 

“Ok, let’s get to business,” she nodded, walking straight to them.

“Y/N!” Bucky shouted quickly, grabbing her arm before she got to far, and she fell into him some. 

“Oops,” she giggled, stumbling on her feet. 

“Wait a second. Are you drunk?” he asked in a concerned voice. 

“No, no,” she brushed off. Clearing her throat. “No… Ok, a little tipsy, but not drunk,” she waved off. “I lost count of the champagne, and I’m pretty sure they have a high proof brand.”

“Dear God. We're on a mission, Y/N. What were you thinking?!” 

“I was thinking, free alcohol,” she smirked before standing straighter. “No time to talk about it. We need to go.”

She turned and quietly marched to follow. Bucky close behind caught up to her and wrapped a hand her arm.

“You’re a mess. Just let me lead,” he groaned pulling her arm through his and keeping her close.

“You smell good,” she noted. 

He looked down at her and saw she was giving him a soft sincere smile. Really? Out of all times, this is when she decided to make Bucky’s head all fuzzy. 

“Come on,” he sighed, pulling her gently to the corridor the suspicious group disappeared into. 

Discreetly they stayed around the corner and watched the DeLuca’s and guests go into a secluded room. No one else was in the halls but them and a few guards posted at the doors. 

“Shit,” Bucky whispered. 

“What?” Y/N asked peeking her head around to see what Bucky saw, but she peeked out a little too much and the guard heard them. He quickly pulled her back from view.

“Damn it, Y/N,” Bucky whispered to her in a frustrated way. 

He was going to pull her away down another hallway to try and keep from being fully caught, but he wasn’t fast enough, and the guard started to come around the corner. 

Without getting a second to prepare, Y/N crashed her lips into Bucky’s and wrapped her arms around his shoulders behind his neck. A little stunned at first, Bucky froze, but it didn’t take him long to fall into the action with her. He slowly brought his hands around her waist and pulled her flush to him. The kiss hard and frenzied.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be here!” The guard shouted. 

Y/N pulled away and faked shock. 

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry,” she blushed, adding a fake british accent and pushing herself into Bucky in embarrassment. “We were just trying to find a quiet place to… Well, I won’t get too graphic,” she giggled. 

The man who at first had a hard glare on his face eased up and sighed. 

“It’s fine. I’m just going to need you two go back to the party. This section is closed off,” he instructed coming closer. 

“Of course, of course. You’re only doing your job. I get it,” she smiled a captivating and warm smile untangling herself from Bucky who had yet to be able to form a coherent thought since her surprise make out session. “Let me just grab my clutch real fast- Oop!” She dropped the purse that had opened and the contents of it spilling out. “Oh God. I’m such a clutz,” she laughed. The alcohol created a tint of red in her cheeks only making her little act more convincing. 

“Here, let me help,” the large guard offered, bending to help her grap the loose items. 

“Ever the gentleman,” she beamed up at him. Before he knew it though, the tiny bottle of perfume she had in the clutch let out a spritz in his face. 

He coughed at first, but in seconds fell over asleep. Before he could hit the floor with a thud, Bucky moved to ease him down. 

“What the fuck?” Bucky said with wide eyes as he looked back at her. 

“What? I’m doing my job,” she answered, calmly and collectively putting her things back in her clutch and smoothing out her dress. Her behavior was completely different from 2 seconds ago. “Tipsy doesn’t mean I’m completely incompetent.”

The footsteps of the second guard coming around the corner were getting closer. 

“Move him,” Y/N directed before walking toward the other threat. 

By the time Bucky had placed the other man in a closet nearby and turned the corner where Y/N had gone, he saw her dragging the second guard back his way.

“A little help, muscles?” she groaned at the heavy set guy in her hands. 

Bucky quickly did the same with the second guard placing them in closets and blocking the door with a heavy decorative table. 

“Cap, we’re at the meeting room. Both guards taken care of and about to put the listening device on. You ready?”

“Nat?” Steve asked.

“On it”, Nat replied. “Y/N, if you can’t get into the room, stick it to the door. I can get feedback that way too,” she instructed. 

Bucky looked at Y/N. “Where’s the device?” he asked.

“One second,” she exhaled. She placed her hand on his shoulder for support as she lifted her foot and dug out a small mechanism from her heel. “For once, heels are useful in my life,” she sighed, putting her foot back down and activating it. “Keep watch.” She moved to the double doors the suspects were in and placed it on the outside as Bucky kept an eye down the hallway. 

“Why do I feel like a sidekick in this and not an actual agent?” Bucky mumbled. 

“Because you're Robin and I’m the Batman in this scenario, didn’t you know?” she said with a wink and her sarcasm coming back. 

He rolled his eyes before looking back down the hall. 

“Ok, we’re in,” Nat explained. “Sam and Wanda head to their location for stand by in case they need backup.”

“Copy that,” Wanda spoke up. 

They all listened in on the conversation but so far it had just been exchanging casualties and nothing having to do with evil plans. 

“God, talk about a boring party,” Y/N sighed next to Bucky as they waited for something to happen. 

“Wasn’t boring 5 minutes ago,” Bucky thought to himself. 

He couldn’t help but look over to her and study her again. She was focused on the view from the balcony off to the side. You could see the party happening down there, but it was a private spot where the people below couldn’t really see them up where they were.

She fidgeted with the small mesh strap that wrapped around her arms creating the off the shoulder look. Her eyes darting around as if some form of danger was down there and not behind her.

“What are you seeing?” he asked. 

“Don’t know. But something about this seems off,” she said softly. 

“Off how?” he went on. 

“It’s been 5 minutes of small talk and nothing about what we came here for. It’s usually straight to dirty business with these things.” She looked back at him, but the look in his eye wasn’t showing interest in the mission. He looked like he was thinking about something else. Turning back to the balcony she spoke up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Barnes? You catching something I’m not?”

“Why’d you kiss me?” he said bluntly. 

She stiffened and turned back to him. “What?”

“You could of easily just acted drunk and done something with that to throw him off, but you kissed me. And not just a fake, ‘I’m trying to act kiss’ That was a full on kiss,” he said taking a step to her. 

“We’re on a job Bucky. I have to make it as convincing as possible,” she said, but there was a weird hesitancy in her voice. “That or we would have been caught and dealing with two highly trained security guards, possibly causing a ruckus that would have brought attention to us.”

He paused. He was looking too far into it, wasn’t he? He just made an awkward situation out of nothing. 

“Though, I can’t not say you in that suit had something to do with it,” she mumbled to herself, but the super soldier hearing beat out her quiet confession.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Bucky grinned shocked and stood behind her. 

“You look good in a suit, ok? It made it a little easier kissing you,” she huffed not making eye contact with him. “Don’t get too big an ego there, bud.”

Though he could come up with about 30 different things to say and push her buttons with that confession, that’s not where his mind went. 

When she turned, not hearing a witty response for the co-worker, she didn’t expect to see him right behind her and almost chest to chest at the movement. 

“What are you-” she started, but looking up into his eyes, she didn’t see irritation this time. No, she saw lust. His eyes dilated to where the blues of his eyes just covered the rims. “Bucky,” she said in a hushed whisper not being able to break her gaze from his lips.

But before she could question him, he lowered himself to her level and connected their lips once again that evening. His hand going from her cheek to behind her neck pulling her in. Her hands at first on his chest nervous at the closeness, but now grabbing the lapels of his coat and pulling him closer. 

Frantic and starved was the best way to describe that kiss. As if it had been a long time coming, and tasted oh so much sweeter after marinating all this time. 

They eventually pulled away from the intoxicating and dizzying action. Both of their eyes practically black looking at the other. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Bucky confessed. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said, still trying to catch her breath. 

Breaking the moment up, they heard a crash come from the other side of the doors they were monitoring. 

“Shit,” Y/N said, quickly making haste to the room. Bucky two steps behind her. 

Bucky kicked open the doors and saw Hydra agents pointing their gun at the DeLuca’s. Though their job wasn’t to take care of the crime boss family, no one needed to get hurt. 

The gun quickly turned on Bucky, but before the shot could be made, a knife flew into the man's shoulder causing him to grasp it and fall to the ground in agony.

“Nice shot,” Bucky smirked. 

“Thanks, now focus!” She smiled back before the two went in and a whole fight scene evolved. 

Sam and Wanda were there seconds later, and as if the easiest task in the world, all the bad guys were in the hands of the Avengers.

No one died, and everyone that was needed for questioning was put to sleep somehow and brought back to the helicarrier. 

________________

“Nice work, Y/L/N,” Steve patted her shoulder that hadn’t been injured. 

At some point in the fight, the sleeves she had been fiddling with on her shoulders had restricted her to defend herself from a knife. In the act of cutting her though, it also cut the sash off and Y/N used it to her advantage. She had used the fabric as a way to tie up the man who assaulted her and render him defenseless after some light manipulation with the sash made his weaponless. Crazy the things you can make dangerous when your a trained spy. 

“Thanks Cap,” she smiled, hissing as the nurse on board put a disinfectant on the wounds. 

“Hey, coming out with just one injury is a win when you use a ribbon as your weapon,” Bucky chuckled walking over. Hands in his pockets and a smile taking over his features. 

“You’re not wrong,” she laughed before hissing again at another round of alcohol to the open cut.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but we are going to wrap this up to keep from infection. Let me go grab the gauze,” the nurse informed her, heading to the medical bay. 

“Nice work tonight,” Bucky said, sitting next to her. “I guess working side by side isn’t as horrible as I suspected.”

“Eh, it wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great,” she said shrugging. Bucky sent her a blank stare and slowly blinked, not amused. “Oh, lighten up. I’m just pulling your leg,” she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You’re not that bad of a partner.”

He eased up and a soft smile formed on his lips before he looked back down. 

“Listen,” he started. 

“How do you feel about getting coffee when we get back?” she cut him off. 

“What?” Bucky said sitting straighter. 

“Coffee. You know that drink that gives people energy. It’s usually served around breakfast time, but in Europe they actually-”

“I know what coffee is,” he shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m just a little shocked.”

The nurse came back around the corner and motioned for Y/N to come with her. She got up and turned back to Bucky before she followed. 

“You shouldn’t be, considering what happened on that balcony,” she winked, making him blush as she disappeared around the corner. 

“Damn,” Bucky eventually said to himself when he could form a thought. “She’s going to be the death of me…”

Marvel Tags:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

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My Lovelies forever:

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#bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader drabble #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes #justkending #Winter Soldier #winter soldier drabble #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

[fvrxdrm]

Through the Valley

Pairing: Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of violence, angst

Setting: Deadlock/Pre-Blackwatch/Pre-recall

Song: Through the Valley (Ellie’s cover)

*****

When the universe was formed, the world was sculpted with rocks, and when the world was sculpted with rocks, strange beings were brought down to earth, and when strange beings were brought down to earth, sins were born, and when sins were born, dissensions were brought to light, and when dissensions were brought to light, war had clouded the visions of many beings and humanity teared itself down, one by one, with metal blades and flying arrows, and evolving into something much more minacious and powerful…

…like a gun.

So much vigor, so much anger, so much power. With one pull of a trigger, one life could be led towards heaven or hell, with no chance of escaping a baneful bullet; piercing through the skin and tearing the flesh, embedding itself deep till the person dies losing blood or be lucky enough to survive such fatal shot.

An excellent marksman’s the only one capable of doing that.

Specifically, those who know their guns by heart.

They are precise. They are rigorous. And they make every shot count. They make sure the target receives the end of their blazing weapons, and they’ll do it again and again till they’re satisfied with the bloodshed they’ve created. Their eyes would gleam with red, and blood would boil deep within their veins.

Even with one shot, those who feel agony could be standing right in front of death’s door.

There’s this marksman though, a gunslinger who seems to have held a gun since his mother gave birth to him. His accuracy cannot be matched even by those whose experiences have passed through the roof. Even with a blindfold on he still knew where to point his revolver at. He was a shit-hot at what he was doing, as they say.

Deadeye is what they call him.

People believe that the Deadeye was a curse that was passed from his ancestors to their descendants, and he happens to be their newest successor, which means he was to hold the malediction whether he liked it or not.

Truth is, it isn’t a curse.

Born by pain and abandonment, he was forced to teach himself how to survive on his own at such a young age. He worked hard to feed himself with enough food to desist from dying from an empty stomach, he rode by rivers and looked out for cacti to give himself something to drink, and most importantly, he taught himself how to pull a trigger and defend himself from nasty foes with the use of a gun he likes to call…the Peacekeeper.

After so many years of living and surviving on his own, a gang who called themselves the Deadlock Rebels took him with them and dinned him on how to rob banks and stir up ruckus in villages and towns. He was happy to have found a family who he could rely himself on even with their twisted intentions, and for the first time in his entire life, he felt rapturous.

Every blood he spilled was a trophy to be held in his hands, every eye that widened in fear had the hunger lurking beneath consume him until he became the monster that he was, every bullet that flew with the speed of light had his teeth grinding together, and every word that spread around town had him grinning with sharpened fangs.

People see him as the devil himself, only softening what was left of his heart when a kiss was pressed against his vulgar lips.

His lover was pristine and innocent, an angel in contrast to the demon he turned himself into. She had bright eyes and a scintillating smile, a touch so gentle and feather-like, a voice so small and warm, and a forgiving heart nobody deserved to earn unless she allowed it to.

Folks have wondered how on earth had she given a killer a chance and had asked the same question over and over again, but she always replied with the same answer as well;

“He was orphaned by evil and war; always have, always will be. Someone as broken as him may not be fixed, but they deserve love just as much as those who have found their place in order to help find their purpose on earth again. There are paths in front of them to help guide them in life, and what surrounds them will give them a reason to stay in the path they’ve chosen.”

Some people agree, some people don’t. But at the end of the day, it’s her belief and children look up to her and admire the goodwill she possesses even though her trust was something to be worried about. She claims she knows what she’s doing and all the world hopes that she truly does.

The heart of his lover would burn at every bruise and every wound the young man would come home with, and every word of what his gang had done would send her heart palpitating in an almost irregular speed. She feared of what was to come, and she hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t end up like the folks who have met the end of Peacekeeper’s barrel.

Years have passed and the man grew into a more ruthless killer. He had a heart of stone but it never forgot the woman who have given him an aspiration better than what they had then. He was going to be head and shoulders above, he promised. Just not now. The devil on his shoulder was still pulling him underneath. And when the day the voices in his head have stopped screaming comes, he’ll find a better home for the two of them; one where they could raise a few children of their own and make love until the sun rises in the east.

But alas, the dreams he had hoped for came to an unfortunate close…

The Deadlocks had been ambushed by soldiers of Overwatch, slowly killing the only family he’s had and taking him and his lover in to probably rot for the rest of their lives. Blue had befogged his vision, but red had risen flames inside of him.

Bullets flew from his tongue the moment he was thrown into a room flooded in black with only a poor excuse of a light hanging above him. He sat impatient, fists clenching and unclenching in fear of what they might’ve done to his girl. She could’ve been suffering from a harrowing death and nobody gave him one last chance to say what must be said before her final moments, and that was enough to untether something wilder inside of him.

He was given two options: he would be thrown into jail and be left there to rot or be given a chance to walk in the right path and leave the wrong, change himself and the world for the better.

The commander had seen something in him: a potential. The woman was right when she said he was forced into a void full of nothing but anguish at such a young age, and pity was what he felt for the gunslinger.

The power he had with his gun was nothing Reyes had ever seen. He was one with Peacekeeper; both thriving to reach the heights with ardor and strength. It would a shame if his talent was just going to be thrown into waste. So, what better way to use it than with noble purpose?

He was right. The offer was better than to slowly sink into the fires of hell. But what’s the point of throwing his hat into the ring if the woman he loves was in the opposite side of the wall? What’s the point of it all if she wasn’t going to be the shoulder he could cry on? What made it even worse was the fact that he was just going to be stuck in a goddamn loop.

Maybe dreams were only meant to be dreams…

It seemed like the world gave him a certain fate; a fate where death was something that would haunt him like a ghost whenever he was in the firing line, a fate where shadows were to be seen in his line of sight, and possibly a fate where he becomes a weapon himself and shoot down those he cared for dearly. And it scared him. But, what choice did he have? He’d rather see the world again and again, even in its darkest times, than die pathetically in his cage.

“Good choice, kid. I think you both know why you were brought here on earth in the first place.”

'Cause I walk through the valley of the shadow of death And I fear no evil because I'm blind Oh, and I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul But I know when I die my soul is damned

Jesse sang with shaky breath, fingers trembling against tattered wood, before his hands rested loosely against his guitar and sighed into the warm night air.

“We’ll be alright,” his lover said. Her calloused fingers gently grasped his metallic one and smiled sadly at him.

They both wore rings, a symbol of the love they’ve treasured and every trial they’ve come across along the way. The vows they’ve exchanged gave them a reason to stay, a reason to fight again. It was a bittersweet surrender, but it was worth it.

“Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #overwatch x reader #overwatch #mccree x reader #mccree

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: The Specific Thrill Of Villain Groups In One Piece

There's a certain feeling that occurs when a new villainous team emerges in an anime. Shonen fans know it well. You look at the line-up: there's often a leader, a silent heavy, a flamboyant wildcard, a femme fatale, a dedicated henchman, a fickle underling, and all other manner of role and trope. You take stock of their personalities, their powers, their capabilities as both a combatant and a member of the team — and you take the exact same look at the members of the protagonist's team. That's when you have the beautiful thought that truly sets the sails of the imagination as far as predicting battle anime is concerned: Who is gonna fight who?

  As we've entered the raid on Onigashima, it's a thought that many One Piece fans have had. You have the Straw Hats and their allies, and then you have Kaido, Big Mom, the Beast Pirates, and all manner of menacing foes tailor-made to square off against them in a series of hyped-up one-on-one matches. It's such a common occurrence in One Piece that fans are already predicting how it will go down after the dust of the battle for Wano's fate has cleared. From the second Blackbeard's crew appeared in Marineford, fresh out of their shackles at Impel Down, the second thought you have after "Oh, dang. Blackbeard is here, too?" is "How are they gonna get paired off with the Straw Hats?" It's the Grand Line fighting equivalent of a grade school dance. You're sitting on the sidelines, waiting for your time to shine, and then a Straw Hat member comes up to you, takes you by the hand, pulls you onto the dance floor, and kicks the heck out of you.

    The first major instance of this in One Piece was Arlong Park, though the arcs before it definitely had different pirates squaring off as Luffy took on the leader. However, Arlong Park very neatly sets up the eventual clash, down to the fact that there are four people on each side willing to fight at the end. Luffy takes Arlong, Zoro takes the swordsman Hatchan, Ussop takes on Choo because he's a marksman and Choo spits, and since Kuroobi is wearing a gi, he's a natural fit to throw some kicks at Sanji.

    The war with Baroque Works in Alabasta is perhaps the most famous example of it, giving every single Straw Hat the fight of their life at that point. It's one of the reasons Alabasta is held in such high regard to this day. Often an arc won't necessarily provide a specific bout for each character but rather gives them an important thing to do. They might be involved in taking out waves of minor enemies or performing some espionage plans that help the team out later. Not the case in Alabasta. Every Straw Hat is put through the wringer, testing their resilience almost as if the narrative is asking if they're strong enough to continue in it and make it back to their friends.

    Skypiea, Enies Lobby (which includes the iconic scene of the Straw Hats facing down CP9 from opposing towers), and even Thriller Bark, include variations of it. When the team reunites before heading to Fishman Island, the triumphant moment is centered around each Straw Hat getting to show off their increased strength and strategy against the New Fishmen. Considering that Luffy spent the last few arcs in a mad dash to rescue his brother, an attempt that was tragically unsuccessful, the Team vs Team fight in the Fishman Island arc is battle-centric proof that Luffy's desire to live for his friends was well-founded. There is celebration to be found in the win over Hody Jones and his group, but the true victory comes from the image of the Straw Hats reconvened.

    It's powerful enough that it marked the end of Episode 1000 before setting each Straw Hat off toward their particular mission or encounter. It's this acknowledgment of the potency of the Straw Hats as a group that ultimately makes these one-on-one fights that litter the climaxes of the arcs so satisfying. You have the captain, the swordsman, the cook, the sharpshooter, the navigator, the doctor, the archaeologist, the shipwright, the musician, and the helmsman — and as you see the villains unveiled — you create match-ups in your mind for what would be the coolest or the most fulfilling. The end goal of the fight isn't winning, it's standing shoulder to shoulder with your crew that's your reward.

      Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features.

By: Daniel Dockery

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[id-never-letyoudown]

Rare pair hell below (plz work readmore) part 2

Henry Hidgens didn't have the best childhood. Being shipped off to live with his aunt and uncle after coming out to his parents and then disowned does not make for a happy nor healthy mind. He was sixteen when it happened. His only light in those trying times were his aunt and uncle. They supported him. No matter what he wished to do.

He wanted to learn an instrument? Sure. He wanted to take up songwriting? Absolutely. Shoot a gun? You bet. And Henry was quite ambitious to say the least. He dabbled in a little bit of everything while he lived with them. It had been the first time he'd been allowed to truly express himself.

And they accepted him. Sure they had to get used to a few things, they'd sometimes use the wrong name-but they were always quick to correct themselves. And that was all he could ask for. His parents never bothered to try. Last he heard they were telling people that their only daughter had died and they had no sons.

Henry wanted to do big things, make a name for himself doing what he loved. And he just happened to love many things-and if you asked him he excelled at them all. Of course.

It took some string pulling and a lot of extra credit and the like, but Henry had managed to get himself accepted into a nice college outside of Hatchetfield. He never could decide on what he wanted to do, so again he tried a bit of everything that tickled his fancy.

He was particularly gifted in biology. Anything to do with the human body. And had a special interest in things that had adverse effects on them as well. Diseases, plagues-you name it.

His presentations drew a lot of attention. Attention that brought him to the door of the P.E.I.P. Not literally to their door, of course. Especially when he moved back and resumed his studies in Hatchetfield. They were interested in him. His intellect. And thought he could help them. The fact that he called Hatchetfield his home was another point of interest. And the fact that his last remaining family had died in a freak accident months prior made him stand out. A smart man who knew how to handle a gun and who wouldn't be missed if he should disappear? He was practically made for their organization.

Henry declined their initial offer, having just landed a position on a team of scientists currently studying a disease he was very curious about-and just so happened to be immune to.

He had made a lot of friends at Hatchetfield Community College-a few of which became his lovers. They would all go to the football field at five o'clock to catch up every day. Always. Henry had been a little impatient and wasn't as thorough as he should have been during his decontamination procedure one day, eager to see his boys.

He infected every one of them. And had to watch them each die, one by one. Comforting them while searching for a cure. He still visits that campus in the anniversary of the start of their collective deaths, because having to go back days in a row would have been too much for him.

He ended up joining P.E.I.P shortly after that. He wasn't at the top of their ranks, sure. But he was known as a good marksman and the person you wanted to see if you needed some special equipment. But his speciality was theorizing. Because he had this uncanny ability of almost always being right.

It was discovered that he had foresight. Not the most powerful they've seen, but a good asset nonetheless. This is what made him a valuable member of P.E.I.P.

It should be noted that Henry, though preferring very much to work alone, had grown incredibly fond of a certain general. The two had even-and continue to-hooked up on several occasions. Henry had gotten a little attached and was hurt when he discovered McNamara was marrying his good friend Xander-but he supported them both fully. The three do still fool around together and Henry even became the surrogate for their son, in exchange for "a bottle of brandy for every stretchmark" and "never ask me for anything ever again".

His time at P.E.I.P was filled with adventure and excitement. He loved every minute of it.

And then the fatal day happened.

Henry was well aware that they had lost an agent to the Black and White. But that didn't stop his curiosity. He swore it was like it was calling to him. The portal. He'd dream about it. Sometimes he found himself passing by the lab it was kept in and stopping for no reason other than to gaze longingly at it.

He didn't have the clearance to venture into the Black and White, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't come up with a good enough reason for he himself to go.

And then one day he just so happened to find the masterkey card just... lying on his desk. Like it was waiting for him. And when he grabbed it it felt as though someone was standing right over him. Just this great, overwhelming presence. But a... welcomed one. Which wouldn't make sense to him until later.

He had to sneak in when everyone else had gone. But once he made it, once he stepped into the Black and White for the very first time-he fucking ate the primordial pavement and cracked his helmet.

And just as the panic was about to set in he heard it. A man's voice. One he's heard before but could only now make out.

It'd felt like he'd been wandering around that great expanse of nothingness for days-it had only been minutes-but seeing this stranger, and knowing he must have so much to tell him, made it all worth it.

"Was wondering when you were gonna get the hints, Dove." The man spoke, wearing far too much denim for Henry's tastes-but somehow he made it work. "Bet you got a lotta questions."

"You have no idea-" where did he go-oh!

Henry's helmet was gone now. And he could feel the man's warm breath against his ear. And feel him right behind him. Practically touching. "Oh but I do." When he turned around the man was gone. Henry only had to look back to find him in his original position. "And I can answer them all."

".... There's a catch, isn't there." It wasn't a question. Henry knew he needed to leave through the portal soon, unless he wanted to stay there trapped forever. "What do you want?"

"Smart, Dove. See, that's why I like you. Straight to the point. You know exactly what you want." Oh please, it took him years to settle on a major- "It just wasn't plain to see. Power."

"Power?"

"Power. Fame. Recognition. And everything in between. I can give you it all. All you have to do is shake my hand."

"I shake your hand and I become a pawn for one of your lords, is that right?" Henry eyes him skeptically, but the offer was tempting. After all-

"You know apotheosis is already upon us. Might as well rig the show while there still is one."

Henry stares at the stretched out hand, his own twitching at his side. It was true. He's seen it. Several Its, actually. So many outcomes. So many branching realities. Lost when he woke up. But coming back to the surface the longer he stayed here.

"I..." He reached for his hand, eyes finding bright, apple green. He saw a promise. A promise for power. For the ability to set the pieces wherever he wished and watch them fall. For everything he could ever wish for and... more? More.

Henry wanted so much more than what he'd been given. What he worked for.

And just as he was about to lay his palm down he was yanked back. Something had pulled on his lifeline, sending him stumbling back.

"Henry!" The general shouted behind him, and just as he looked back, to give the stranger one more look, he was gone. "Henry what were you thinking?!"

"No..." Henry had to be dragged back through the portal, kicking and screaming. "No-let me go! Let me-" and then the crying began. He couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. When he finally stopped resisting McNamara let him sink to the floor, in front of the deactivated portal. And the promises it held.

"You should have let me go." His voice cracked, slumping foward. Black strands of hair fell in his face, obscuring his vision. Not that the tears weren't already doing that. "You should have-" he hiccupped.

A hush fell over the room. An odd tingling sensation ran over him. Similar to walking out into the heat after spending hours in a cold theater. His hair, strand by strand. From root to tip. Began to turn a silvery white.

Needless to say P.E.I.P didn't let him go for a long while after that. They interrogated him. Poked and prodded. Took samples of his hair. Something told Henry he needed them to think he was just slightly unhinged. Just a bit. Just enough to get them to believe he wasn't a threat.

And when they did let him go, they called it 'retirement' and gave him a new identity. And a job as a professor. Just to be safe. So no one would ask questions. He wasn't particularly happy about it. And stormed out of the facility in a huff. During a big storm.

McNamara was right on his heels. "This is just a precaution, Henry-"

"A precaution?! Putting foam on sharp corners in a precaution-this is just-u g h!" Henry threw his hands up, already soaked to the bone. White hair sticking to his face. Damn he needed a haircut. "This is wrong and you know it!"

"You entered the portal without permission-do you know what could have happened if I didn't come back?!" He had to shout just to be heard over the sound of pouring rain.

"This place was like home to me, you know that-and I make one mistake and that's it?! Poof! How fair is that?!"

"I'm trying to convince them to let you back on, I just need you to lay low-"

"Lay low?!" He laughed bitterly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. You couldn't even tell the difference between the rain and his tears. "I'm Henry 'Hidgens' now! What the fuck kind of name is that? And sixty-three?! R e a l l y?! I don't even look that old! Who's going to believe that?!"

He spread his arms out in a wide arc, "You're all going to regret not having me here, just you wait and see. You're going to come crawling to ol' Henry Hidgens, Biology professor at Hatchetfield Community College for help one day and you know what he's going to say? Fuck y-"

Thunder shook the area, lightning lighting up the sky in a crooked arc. And then, in the blink of an eye, Henry was struck.

That's what he got for ranting in the middle of a storm.

Anyways, when he was given the okay to return home he spent months crafting his new life. Hey, if he was going to be given a new identity he might as well have fun with itm and he still had to heal from that lightning strike.

He bore a scar that branched like veins all down across his body. Staring from the left side of his neck, and down to his right ankle. He liked to play up the 'unhinged and questionable professor' bit a lot. And loved to pepper in the very real fact that he'd been struck by lightning.

Hell of a thing to brag about.

It had been nearly half a year now since then. He's settled into his new life nicely. Becoming Hatchetfield's known hermit of a whacky professor.

Lately he'd been having a feeling he was being watched. And sometimes, sometimes, he'd see him. The man he now knew as Wilbur Cross. The agent P.E.I.P had lost. They never told him what actually happened though.

He had just come in from his garden one day when he felt it. That familiar presence.

Henry set his basket of apples down. His aunt and uncle had owned this house before, and planted a nice garden-which had been neglected after their passing, but Henry was tending it now. They had a few apple trees as well. Henry planned on making a pie.

That presence was still there. Bearing over him. He didn't know if he was just being paranoid or hopeful or what. Regardless-he went behind his bar, took up his shotgun, and returned shortly after.

And when he did he froze. Because there he was, sitting on the counter. Eating one of the apples. At first the shock was enough to make his jump and aim right at him-not that it bothered this man to have a gun trained on him.

"Wilbur..." Henry didn't know what he felt exactly when he saw him, but suffice to say he was overwhelmed. He lowered his shotgun.

"Hey there, Dove. Ya miss me-"

"I accept."

"Whoa now-at least let me do the pitch!"

"You already did that, remember? And I accept, on one condition."

Wilbur's brow cocked, "Who said you could make conditions?"

"I did. It's an easy thing, really." He came closer, just as Wilbur hopped down from the counter. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, sliding it over to himself. "Every promise you make to me, you have to keep. And, we seal the deal with a drink."

"You trying to butter me up with booze and apples?"

"The apples are a coincidence."

"A n d you're making demands of me? On top of pulling a g u n on me?.... You know, I think this might be the start of a great partnership. Pass me a shot glass-" he saw Henry pop the lid off the bottle and take a drink with hardly a grimace. His heart would have skipped. If it still beat. "... damn, Dove."

"So, we got a deal or what?"

"First of all, my line." Wilbur grabs the bottle from him, fingers lingering a few seconds too long. "Second, you bet your sweet ass."

They drank together. And thus started their partnership.

#cridgens #tgwdlm #blackfriday #black friday musical #proffesor hidgens #henry hidgens #wilbur cross

[cryptidsncurios]

Troubled Birds; a sentence meme ( part 1 ) | Accepting! @k3ytoheart sent: "I'm looking for trouble and if I cannot find it, I will create it."

"Wow-how-ee, I’d never expect such a sweet boy to say something so very chaotic.”

He’d wondered if the little key-kid had even noticed his presence at all: his perch atop the building directly nearby, overlooking the goings-on of the town, all while positioned on his belly, hands under his chin and legs kicking teasingly behind him. Or, perhaps the kid had known---hence such a bold statement.

Whatever the case, Xigbar was all about trouble.

#k3ytoheart #ic: the fatal marksman #ask: the fatal marksman #v: so you wanna pretend you're not a manipulative bodysnatcher #prompt: troubled birds #[[ uuuh idk where you would want to set this but i just put him post-kh 3?? bc Fun without them Fighting all the time ]] #ooc: queue

[handeaux]

13 Curious Facts About Our Cincinnati Zoo

Blame The Caterpillars

In 1872, caterpillars infested Cincinnati trees to such an extent that Andrew Erkenbrecher, a wealthy local miller, formed the Society for the Acclimatization of Birds to import caterpillar-feasting species. Flushed with success after acquiring more than 1,000 birds, the Society developed plans for Cincinnati’s Zoological Gardens to house the imported birds that could not survive in the wild here. Erkenbrecher is largely responsible for Cincinnati’s starlings and English sparrows.

For-Profit, In Theory

The Cincinnati Zoo was originally organized as a for-profit enterprise, but it never turned much of a profit. The lingering effects of the financial Panic of 1873, compounded by a smallpox epidemic and poor weather resulted in deficits throughout the first decade. In 1885, Zoo directors considered a total shutdown, including selling off all the animals. Eventually, the Zoo reorganized as a not-for-profit corporation, with the City of Cincinnati owning the land..

Walking Into A Job

Sol Stephan arrived at the Cincinnati Zoo in 1875 to deliver a bull African elephant named Conqueror. Although opening day was rapidly approaching, the Zoo was still under construction and no one knew how to take care of an elephant. Stephan was asked to stick around for a couple of days. He stayed for 62 years, rising to become the legendary superintendent and general manager.

Humans On Display

In addition to animals, the Zoo secured 89 Sioux through a contract with the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs. The Native Americans, on display for three months in 1896, set up a village within the Zoo and lived, according to advertisements, their normal life, giving "a rare opportunity of showing the character and mode of life of the Indian tribes." The foray into human exhibits was a financial failure, but Zoo officials hailed it, from an educational perspective, as "an incalculable success."

Going To The Dogs

In its early days, the Zoo displayed a variety of dogs. On opening day, visitors saw a Newfoundland, two mastiffs, poodles, “Danish hounds” (Great Danes) and greyhounds. Some were trained performers, but others merely illustrated uncommon breeds. Interested observers could purchase dogs from the Zoo. St. Bernard dogs were advertised as “docile . . . but a terror to tramps and evil-doers.”

Old Hornbill

When a Cincinnati newspaper visited the Zoo in 1909, only one of the animals on display when the Zoo first opened in 1875 was still alive. It was an African Hornbill. The old bird survived more than 33 years in captivity and outlived every other specimen that originally populated the Zoo’s cages.

Pat McAvoy, Lion Slayer

During its first year of operation, two large carnivores escaped the Zoo. Both were shot and killed by Pat McAvoy, a building contractor who served as Clifton Town Marshal. In March 1875, while the Zoo was still under construction, a lioness escaped, killed a donkey and attacked a night watchman before McAvoy shot it. In September of that year, a leopard got loose and prowled Burnet Woods for several days before McAvoy tracked and killed it. The Cincinnati Daily Times [30 September 1875] quipped: “It is said that the Zoological Society consists of two persons, Andrew Erkenbrecker and McAvoy. The former furnishes the game for the latter to shoot.”

Firing Squad For An Elephant

In December 1890, the Cincinnati Zoo brought in a firing squad to execute a cantankerous elephant named Old Chief. Retired from the Robinson Circus where he had killed his keeper, Chief’s tantrums threatened nearby animals – not to mention Zoo personnel – and Zoo directors signed his death warrant. A single marksman proved unable to bring down the elephant, so the Zoo recruited a squad of four, who fired multiple volleys until the great beast finally succumbed. The Palace Hotel served elephant steaks that night. Chief’s skeleton and skin were displayed at the Zoo for years and then donated to the University of Cincinnati.

Bloody Butchers’ Day

During the 1890s, as part of the annual Butchers’ Day at the Zoo, local meat cutters competed to determine who could kill, skin and dress a bull of no less than 1,400 pounds. Although the animals were killed on stage, a curtain was closed at the fatal moment, but drawn back to provide a clear view of beheading, skinning and dressing the fresh beef. The animal contestants were served at a grand barbecue later in the day.

Dinnertime Delight

In years past, a top attraction at the Cincinnati Zoo was watching living lunch fed to ravenous beasts. While the big carnivores usually got great joints of butchered beef or pork, the snakes and reptiles were served live rabbits, rats or squirrels. Spectators enjoyed watching the hungry snake attack and kill its meal. So popular was feeding time that the Zoo published the schedule in their advertisements.

In The Ring

Throughout the 1940s, the Zoo entertained visitors by pitting trainer Howland Kirby against Rodney the kangaroo. Although the Zoo claimed the boxing matches “relaxed” Rodney, and that Rodney eagerly anticipated these bouts with his trainer, public outcry eventually ended the pugilistic routine.

Sopranos Pull Rank

For half a century, the Cincinnati Zoo was home to Cincinnati’s Summer Opera. At times, the on-stage artists harmonized with screeching peacocks and trumpeting elephants. The accommodations were nothing like The Met – performers had to dress and make up in a small village of tents near the stage, except for the star soprano. She was assigned the only dressing room in the building.

April Fools Abound

For years, the telephone at the Cincinnati Zoo rang off the hook on the first day of April. A standard April Fools prank involved leaving a phone message asking the victim to return a call to Mr. Baehr, Mr. Lyon, Mr. Wolf or Mr. Fox. While the perpetrator enjoyed boffo yucks, the Zoo’s receptionist dreaded the annual ordeal. In recent years, with almost-universal caller identification, the gag has lost its luster.

#cincinnati zoo #pat mcavoy #andrew erkenbrecher #old chief #sol stephan

[meanstreetspodcasts]

Master of Other People's Minds

Orson Welles was already a celebrated theatrical producer, director, and star by the late 1930s. He financed his productions in part from his earnings as a radio character actor. But he became a household name when he stepped into the spotlight - or, to be more precise into the shadows when he was cast as Lamont Cranston, known to the underworld as The Shadow. The success of the series boosted Welles' popularity outside of the world of Broadway, and it helped to launch him into his own radio broadcast (The Mercury Theatre On the Air).

Welles starred as the Shadow for two seasons - one sponsored by Blue Coal from the fall of 1937 until the spring of 1938, and the second syndicated by Goodrich Tires through that summer. For many of those episodes, Welles was joined by actors he'd work with in the theatre and would go on to work with on screen, particularly Agnes Moorehead (as "the lovely Margot Lane") and Ray Collins (as Commissioner Weston, the Shadow's uneasy ally in the police department). Welles left the role after this stint, but despite his short run he may be the actor most associated with the role today.

In later years, The Shadow would evolve (or devolve, depending on your point of view) into more of a traditional detective series where the hero could turn himself invisible. The Welles broadcasts featured complex plots and a Shadow who could not only "cloud men's minds so they cannot see him." This Shadow could manipulate perception, create hallucinations, and he had no compunction about sending villains to their deaths.

In honor of Orson Welles' birthday, here are ten of my favorite episodes from his run as radio's invisible avenger.

The Temple Bells of Neban - Lamont Cranston receives a blast from the past as he investigates a drug ring running rampant in the city. A touring performer was a young girl in the temple where he learned how to cloud men's minds. Not only does she know his secret identity; she has powers of her own, and she wants the Shadow out of the way so she can enjoy the profits of her deadly drug trade. (October 24, 1937)

Circle of Death - A mad bomber stalks the city, detonating explosives in the middle of crowded areas with no trace of how the bombs are delivered. As panic sweeps through town and Commissioner Weston faces pressure to resign, the Shadow sets a daring trap to identify the madman and end his wave of terror. (11/28/37)

The Death Triangle - This one opens on Devil's Island as a whipped prisoner promises revenge on the men who betrayed his attempt to escape. Years later, a celebrated child surgeon (and former political prisoner of the island) has been targeted for death, and he asks the Shadow to save him from a long-simmering vengeance. (12/12/37)

The Poison Death - People all over the city - old and young alike - are succumbing to mysterious poisonings. The police are baffled, and they're shocked when a note signed by the Shadow claims responsibility for the attacks. Lamont and Margot not only have to save the city from a deranged killer; they also need to clear the Shadow's name. (1/30/38)

The Phantom Voice - The Shadow comes to the aid of an upstanding public servant on trial for accepting a bribe. The senator's fate seems certain when filmed evidence is played in court, but Lamont is unconvinced. He's sure a political fixer is behind it, and he discovers the clever plot set up to bring down an innocent man. (2/6/38)

The Silent Avenger - This episode is surprising not only for its subject matter, but for the compassionate view it takes of the people involved. A killer is sentenced to die in the electric chair, and he enlists the aid of his brother - a World War I veteran sniper suffering debilitating PTSD ("shell shock") - to take vengeance on the jury that convicted him. The ace marksman carries out his brother's wishes as the Shadow races to stop him and hopefully get the man the help he desperately needs. (3/13/38)

The White Legion - Orson Welles and co-star Agnes Moorehead make appearances out of character at the end of this episode - the finale of the first season sponsored by Blue Coal. Before we meet the people behind the Shadow and Margot Lane, there's a story of a political mob resorting to kidnapping and murder to advance their agenda in City Hall. (3/20/38)

The Hypnotized Audience - To save his brother from a date with the electric chair, a celebrated dancer hypnotizes a theater of VIPs and abducts the governor. Only Lamont is immune from the effects of the mesmeric trance, and now it's up to the Shadow to save the governor before midnight. This episode and the next two on the list come from the syndicated summer season sponsored by Goodrich Tires. Most of the cast returned, but Agnes Moorehead was replaced by Margot Stevenson - the actress who inspired the name of the Shadow's friend and companion.

Tenor with a Broken Voice - Lamont and Margot investigate a series of fatal "accidents" plaguing an opera house whenever Pagliacci is sung. Is anyone who steps onto the stage doomed, or will the Shadow uncover the secret and save the day?

Murders in Wax - The capture of a notorious criminal is memorialized in wax at a city museum, but a killer is replacing the figures with the corpses of their real-life counterparts one by one. Commissioner Weston is slated as the next victim if the Shadow can't find the ghoulish murderer.

Check out this episode!

#old time radio #golden age of radio

[the-blackest-spider]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆.

( repost, don’t reblog )

BASICS

NAME:   Natalia Alianovna Romanova / Natasha Romanoff 

NICKNAME: Nat, Tasha, Tash and sometimes Widow 

AGE:  Physically early to mid 30s, but actually going on 92 (MCU and Star Wars), latter 20s to 30 give or take (FF7 verse)  

SPECIES:  Human

PERSONAL

MORALITY:  LAWFUL / NEUTRAL / CHAOTIC / GOOD / GREY / EVIL 

RELIGION:  There’s a higher power of some sort. 

SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  /  lust  /  pride  /  envy /   wrath

VIRTUES:  chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility  /  kindness  / patience  / justice

PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE:  To keep those she cares about and loves safe, to make up for her sins and find something akin to peace. 

KNOWN  LANGUAGES-

MCU Verse:  Latin, Russian, English, French, German, Mandarin, Japanese, Italian, and various other languages.

Star Wars: Galatic Basic, Bocce, Bothese (understanding and basics), Huttese (understanding and some basic terms), Sy Bisti, Jawa (understanding), Aqualish (understanding and basic terms), Mando’a (understanding), Binary (understanding), Shyriiwook (understanding), Twi’lek (understanding), Torguti (understanding), Geonosian (understanding), Cheunh (understanding and some basic terms) 

With Mando’a and Cheunh I headcanon they’re seen as like Latin and other quote ancient languages and Natasha studied them because she felt it was valuable to know them since it’s rare for a non Mando to speak their tongue and humans cannot get some of the sounds of Cheunh words down exact, but she does her damn best at it. 

Final Fantasy VII: Has knowledge either speaking and or understanding of most known languages on Gaia except for that spoken by the Cetra (though she’s tried to study it). 

PHYSICAL BUILD: scrawny  / bony  /  slender /  fit /  athletic  /  curvy  /  herculean  /  pudgy  /  average

HEIGHT:  5′3″

WEIGHT:  A lady doesn’t tell

SCARS  /  BIRTHMARKS: Some scars 

ABILITIES  / POWERS:  

In all verses, Natasha is capable of adapting and using any weapon she gets her hands on. 

MCU and Star Wars:  Master in the covert arts of espionage, infiltration & subterfuge. Expert martial artist, with exceptional agility & athletic ability. Utilizes advanced weaponry including custom stun batons & "Widow's Bite" bracelets capable of stunning enemies with electrical discharges. Also a decent marksman with various types of fire arms. 

She is a very effective strategist and tactician. 

Has been enhanced by biotechnology that makes her body resistant to aging and disease and heals above four times the average normal human rate.

She is also an accomplished ballerina. 

Final Fantasy VII: Slightly quicker reflexes than average, heals up to four times faster than average, expert marksman and martial artist, proficient in the usage of Thunder, Fire, Poison, Healing, Binding and Synergy Materia.  Also a master of espionage in this verse as well and an accomplished dancer. 

RESTRICTIONS-

In all verses she can be fatally wounded and her size, while she doesn’t let her stature stop her, it can still be used against her. Also those she cares about can be considered a weakness in all verses.

Also sometimes she limits herself by attempting to control her darker inclinations rather than finding a medium with them.

MCU: Magic and mind warping

Star Wars: The Force and mind control 

Final Fantasy VII: Mako poisoning, degradation. She can be affected by all Materia used against her if she doesn’t block it properly. Jenova Cells. 

FAVORITES

FOOD:  Strawberries and junk food. 

DRINK:  Coffee and vodka

PIZZA  TOPPING:  Sausage

COLOR: Blue 

MUSIC  GENRE: Classical and Rock 

BOOK GENRE:  Historical (both fiction and non), Mystery, Biographies, some popular fictional series

MOVIE  GENRE:  Action movies mostly 

SEASON: Winter

CURSE  WORD: She likes a variety really and in various languages.

SCENTS:  Rain, leather, gun powder, blood, lavender, and the musk of a lover. 

FUN STUFF

BOTTOM  OR  TOP:  Both 

SINGS  IN  THE  SHOWER: Occasionally

Tagged by: @sentineloftheunderworld​

Tagging: @mynameisanakin​ @shieldshawk​ @agentsterling​ @hydrasweapon​ @ask-the-assistant-darcy​ @morgansmornings​ @whosxafraid​ @rugini​ @reno2ndgun​ @ofgeneticperfection​ @onewiingcd​ @khakerskayavdova​ @makoeycd​ @the-mjolnir-owner​

#widowcanon #// oof having 3 verses takes time for this stuff XD #also some stuff are italicized because they sometimes apply and sometimes do not

[just-another-romantic]

How To Date a Broken God

Chapter One: Unfamiliar Faces and Uncomfortable Situations

Series Summary: A mere mortal teaches an almighty god how to be human

Warnings: nothing besides Loki being slightly depressed and having really bad issues, domestic avengers

Notes: GET READY FOR A SLOW BURN KIDDOS

“what is more unfair than having to choose between being a monster or being a hero? (-when you have to be both.) when you learn that the road to hell is paved with more than just good intentions.” -@dvoyd

Loki was having a really bad day. It barely ten in the morning and within the span of two hours of his waking - he spilt his coffee, managed to piss off Thor and cause a thunderstorm, got caught in the freezing May rain, and was now late to an Avengers meeting. Great, just great, he thought. They barely trust me enough to have me as a member of the team, and I’m already late to the first meeting.

The streets of Manhattan were mostly cleared due to the sudden storm, most people ducking inside whatever building to seek shelter, but the few unlucky pedestrians still on the street steered clear of Loki.  The whole New York incident still didn’t sit well with people, even with it being a good ten years (or five for some) in the past. The god couldn’t blame them, he hated himself for it too.

In the middle of an almost abandoned Manhattan street, Loki held his arms outstretched, trying to remember the way it felt to fly. Hundreds of years ago, when he was just a boy, he’d run across the bank of the lake outside of the palace, “flying.” He yearned for that time all over again - when he was young and innocent, unaware of the ways of the world, when nobody hated him and he didn’t hate himself. He longed for his mother’s touch and soft voice, and the wrestling matches between him and his brother. He missed the adrenaline coursing through his veins in the midst of a battle. He was a god, still is, but oh, did he feel so small. His hands that once helped forge the universe seemed powerless now.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold of the tower,  Loki was bombarded by no other than Agent Maria Hill. “Jesus Christ,” she exclaimed, grabing his wrist in a tight clasp and leading him through the building, “we let you out for one hour. One hour. And you turn up late.”

He swallowed his pride. “I’m sorry. I got caught up.” Loki was earning some interesting looks from the workers, most likely due to his appearance similar to a wet dog.

“Caught up reeking chaos, no doubt,” she seethed, reaching the end of the hall and pressing the elevator button. If the god didn't have a sliver of dignity left, he would have winced.

Instead, he coolly tossed, “You actually think that low of me, Agent?”

They stepped inside of the elevator, immediately beginning to rise to the fifth level where the conference rooms were located. Agent Hill turned to him, with a tight lipped smile. “Yes, actually,” she said. “After you destroyed half of New York, tried to take over our world like a maniac, and killed thousands of innocent people in the process, I believe I’m entitled to hate you, God of Mischief.”

Loki snorted. “There’s a line Miss Hill, and I’m the leader.”

The elevator dinged, cutting through the annoying music that Loki all but failed to realize, and opened its doors. He let Agent Hill lead him to the conference room, tracking water through the hallways behind her. After many twists and turns and passing too many doors to count, the pair arrived at the double French doors. Beyond them, sat the rest of the Avengers.

Once the door had opened, all eyes were on Loki, making him gulp. They were pleasant enough people, but he still hadn’t earned all of their trust. He had been their mission to take down for years, a villain to put in chains and shackles. Even after Ragnorok and the Blip, Loki doubted he’d ever be able to win their trust.

There was a new face at the table of superheroes, however. A woman of exquisite beauty, hair pulled into a simple ponytail, eyes vibrant and shinning, skin fair and clear. She was as gorgeous as any Asgardian woman Loki had ever met, perhaps even more so. Even in a plain blouse and jeans, she surpassed every beauty standard. 

Her (y/e/c) eyes locked with his and Loki felt...odd. He felt his insides turn to warm mush under her stare, electricity sparked in every nerve, and his heart seemed to have doubled in size. Oh no, that can’t be normal.

“You finally found him,” Director Fury said to Hill from his place at the head of the table, somehow managing to look annoyed and pleased all at once - an art. “Took long enough.”

“I apologize, Director,” Loki said, tearing his gaze away from the girl and to his boss. “It wasn’t my intention to get sidetracked and arrive late.”

“I don’t think that’s ever anyone’s intent, yet it still happens.”

Silvertongue remained quiet and Hill directed him to the only available seat, the one next to the woman. His hands felt clammy and for the first time in the past hour, he was almost thankful to be soaked in rain because he’s sure he’d be sweating otherwise. Why was he so nervous?

He lowered himself in the rolling chair next to her, and she looked him up and down through the corner of her eye, face flashing with...disgust? The woman stiffened, crossing her legs and positioning herself furthest away from Loki. His hear ached for the first time in a millennia. No, no, no, no. Stop that - stop that at once.

“You all may be wondering why I called you here today,” announced Hill, taking her place beside the director. “And why there is a new face.”

The woman’s cheeks turned pink under everyone’s gaze and she forced her lips into a tight smile, bashful.

Hill continued. “I would like to introduce to you all Agent (Y/n) (Y/L/n). Our newest addition to the Avengers team.”

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence before the sorcerer from across the table asked, “Pardon me Miss (Y/L/n), but Agent Hill, is a new member really necessary?”

Loki sensed (Y/n) practically sinking into the leather of her rolling chair.

With a deep breath, the Agent explained, “First of all, Doctor, she is ‘Agent’ to you. Second, its been a year since Thanos.” 

There was another pause as all of the avengers allowed the painful reminder to sink in. Loki’s eyes flitted over to the west wall, where the memorial was in place. Three huge portraits of the fallen heroes, framed in gold, with a matching broken avengers symbol above them. Underneath the first portrait of a red-headed woman was a plaque, reading, ‘Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, Black Widow, died for it.’ She was laughing in the picture, emerald eyes bright and dancing.

The picture in the middle was a man with a disheveled dress suit on, tie loose and hanging around his neck, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he worked on a laboratory table. Despite the grey hair’s sprouting in the thick brown locks, the man looked young and at ease. His smile flashed at the camera, teeth a pearly white. ‘Anthony Edward Stark, Iron Man, who died with it in his grasp,’ read an identical plaque.

The final picture was a handsome blond, looks so divine he could have been sculpted out of marble. His baby blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and a bit of mischief, a smirk to mirror it as well. He sat with a sketch pad in his lap and a charcoal pencil in hand. ‘Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, died peacefully because of it.’

One larger block underneath read in bold print, ‘ALL DIED FOR JUSTICE.’

“We’ve been lucky to not run into any major issue so far, as it seems the universe itself is trying to get back in order. But what we cannot do is be naïve in thinking that it will last any longer. We need to face facts, we are down in numbers, and Agent (Y/L/n) is the only agent that has proven to me she is worthy of being a member of the team over the years I have worked with her.”

There was a loud crunch, coming from non-other than Scott Lang himself, munching loudly on pringles with his feet on the table. “So what,” he said through a mouthful of food, “does she have any powers?”

“What training does she have?” said one.

“In what ways is she qualified?” came another.

Finally, the new agent spoke. “I cannot turn large or small, nor can I fly or have a metal arm, but I have enhanced senses. Acute hearing and more than perfect vision, along with strength and agility. As for my qualifications, I’ve been trained as a skilled marksman and I’ve worked for S.H.E.I.L.D. for many years. I can take down a moving target from 250 yards away and I’ve been stationed on every continent for over six months.”

“Not to mention, in the past five years I gave her a medal,” cut in Fury, “And I wouldn’t give that to any wimp.”

“Most importantly, she has the character,” finalized Hill, leaving no room for discussion. With a sad smile and blank eyes, she gestured to the portraits on the wall. “I miss them too, guys, but we need to fill in the gaps. Thor and the Guardians are off world, Carol is doing who knows what, Clint will put an arrow through me if I drag him out of retirement again, and T’Challa has duties to his country. (Y/n) is not replacing our beloved friends, but we need more numbers for when something does happen.”

“So I’m assuming the Sokovia Accords are just gonna be disregarded now?” asked a witch.

“There really is no need for them anymore after the Snap. Today and over the weekend, Agent (Y/L/n) will be moving in and getting situated, but she begins training with you all Monday. Please for the love of God don’t scare her away.” Hill locked eyes with a certain god. “I’m talking to you Loki.”

He chuckled, crossing his arms, and in a fake promising voice said, “I would never! But a little prank never hurt anyone.”

“What about the time you stabbed your brother?”

“First, I was eight. Second, my brother and I are gods, madam. He’s survived much worse. I would never fatally impale a measly mortal.”

Agent (Y/L/n) huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Two can play at that game, Silvertongue.”

He glanced at her, unnerved by her confidence. “Are you willingly throwing yourself into a prank war with the god of chaos and mischief, petal?”

In the blink of an eye, a dagger that seemingly appeared at of nowhere was poised at his throat. Loki could see her smile behind the hilt. Her voice was sickly sweet, “No. I’m just willing to prove I am no delicate mortal, Lord of Chaos.”

“God.”

“Same thing.”

Loki bit his tongue, raising his hands slowly in mercy. As quickly as it came out, (Y/n) sheathed her weapon in her boot, looking all too pleased with herself.

Hill clapped her hands together to draw back the attention, plastering on a smile. “Proof enough?”

-----------

(Y/n)’s day had been going well. First thing in the morning, she got called into her boss’ office and got a promotion to work alongside the literal Avengers, was introduced to the team shortly thereafter, proving her skills to the ones that doubted her by holding a dagger to a god’s next, and clicked immediately with some lovely people.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. Compassionate, sassy, and didn’t take any bullshit from anyone. Her room was adjacent to hers and she offered to help unpack. Then there was the sweet Peter Parker, the Spiderling (Spider-Man). Innocent, lovable, and too intelligent for his own good. It only made sense to befriend him as he followed Wanda around like a puppy.

So the trio sat splayed out in (Y/n)’s room, out of energy from hours of unpacking, but laughing non-stop, nevertheless.

(Y/n) was wheezing. It was the type of laughter that made your stomach hurt from laughing so hard; she hadn’t felt it in awhile. “Oh God,” she gasped, “then what did he do?”

Wanda sat perched on the newly made bed, wiping a tear off of her check with a polished finger. “Nothing! You wouldn’t believe it, he just stood there with a horrified look on his face. I thought he was about to shit his pants!”

(Y/n) smiled. “Your brother, Pietro...it sounds like he was a good man.”

The redhead twisted one of her rings around her finger, looking suddenly downcast. “He was. Really was.”

“Jesus Christ, does everyone here have terrible family issues?” piped Peter from the windowsill, laughing in hopes to lighten the mood. 

“It might as well be a requirement to be a hero,” Wanda said with a sad smile, before abruptly turning to (Y/n). “What about you, new girl? What’s your tragic hero story?”

The new girl looked down at her bare feet, a bashful smile on her lips, but before she could open her mouth to say anything, F.R.I.D.A.Y. made the announcement that dinner was ready. Saved by the bell.

“To be continued,” declared Peter, hoping up from his seat and taking off towards the dinning room. “Hope you like pepperoni pizza, (Y/n)!”

She did, in fact.

The scene was incredibly domestic, nothing she would've imagined as a normal night for the almighty Avengers. Stacks of pizza boxes and liters of soda lined on the bar counter - plastic utensils, cardboard plates, and Styrofoam cups close by. Those who lived permanently in the tower sat on the variety of sofas and cushioned seats, chowing down on classic American food. Unfortunately for (Y/n), permanent residents also included Loki.

She grabbed two pieces or pepperoni, a cup of cola, and a napkin, and took a seat next to Wanda on a love seat, Peter chilling on the floor at their feet with a stack of five slices in his lap. Superhuman metabolism?

After a few minutes of silence (minus the munching of food) Sam piped up, “So Agent (Y/n), where are you from?”

She smiled, wiping the grease from the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “(Y/n), please. I’ve been all over the world, but I’m originally from Brooklyn.”

“I like her already!” exclaimed Bucky through a mouthful of cheese and sausage.

She giggled, giddy like a child. Is this what home felt like? She hadn’t had a home in years.

“So how’d you get hired at S.H.E.I.L.D.?” asked a very green Banner, his plate of food actually an entire pizza box. “That’s no small feat.”

“My parents were actually Agents as well. I kinda grew up around here.”

Below her, Peter choked on his Sprite. “That’s so sick? Were they spies? Assassins? Snipers? Oh I bet they’re were snipers!”

(Y/n) ruffled the boy’s honey curls. “They were spies. My dad just had good aim, he taught me everything I know about guns and shooting.”

Peter chuckled immaturely, “Hehe...good aim...uh - Ow!”

Wanda had backhanded him upside the head.

There was a snicker from the far side of the room, where Loki stood emerged in the shadows. His pink lips were curled upward in a genuine smile, yet (Y/n)’s heart felt as if it had taken a bullet.

“What do your parents do now? Are they retired or do they still work?” Wanda asked from her side, but the new agent barely heard it.

Her face turned to stone, eyes now icy and cold as she stared at the God of Mischief. Of chaos. Might as well add murder to the list as well.

“They’re dead,” she stated, her voice spitting with venom. The room fell into an awkward silence, and Loki’s eyes met her own.

“In New York...the attack...the building collapsed on them.” Her nose scrunched in disgust. “All thanks to none other than the God of Chaos.”

---------

How to Date a Broken God - Taglist

@cosmic-souls-and-stardust​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @electroma89​ @madshelily​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @daddylouislittle @fanartdom​

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki friggason #loki x you #loki x reade #loki fluff #loki angst #loki being a bitch #loki (marvel) #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel x you #marvel imagine #Avengers #avengers endgame #loki headcanon

[spacebrick3]

Rumors Tag Game

Thanks to  @ratracechronicler for tagging me! I’ll talk about Doing the Limbo, and what might be said about the Survivors—people generally don’t last too long in Purgatory, so they’ve all picked up quite a few as they roam from place to place! (Unfortunately, Isabel’s only been in Limbo for about a day and a half, so she hasn’t stirred up any rumors yet) And I’ll tag @ravenpuffwriter, @toboldlywrite, @natalierosewrites, and anyone else who’s interested!

Rules: Tell 5 rumours that would be said about your main character - 2 positive, 2 negative, and 1 false - and have your followers guess which is which! Then tag people to play! 

Snow

She’s not actually a doctor but there’s no one to prove otherwise

Can cure any wound, even what-should-be-fatal ones (Note: Due to the similarities to the powers boasted by angels, she has gained the nickname of ’Snow Angel’ among some)

Been in Purgatory for over two decades 

Sleeps with her [tranquilizer] rifle next to her 

Picked up her marksman skills in the same place she got her scar 

Capone

Has no empathy for anyone else

Only got into Purgatory (and not Hell) because he paid off an angel

Stole his dagger off a demon

In love with Snow but it’s the one thing he’ll never ask her

He was killed by a friend of his

Inocente

Is the only one in all of Purgatory who still truly believes that Heaven will re-open

Excommunicated from her faith

Knows everyone else’s secrets but won’t say them

Still waiting for someone she loved to arrive in Purgatory

Wandered the Flats for forty days before finding a settlement

Wilbur & Orville

Wilbur can speak the language of the angels

They’re twins who were reunited in Purgatory

Made over fifty deals with demons and still kept their souls

Made over fifty deals with demons and haven’t kept their souls

Orville thinks in nothing but strict logic

#doing the limbo #this was very fun! #lots of interesting rumors about all of them #tag game #character: snow #character: capone #character: inocente #character: wilbur #character: orville