#fuck dude. fuck dog parks and fuck me for knowing better and still using em anyways.

[coloursofaparadox]

>:[

#ive lost like all fear of dogs at this point. i realized that earlier today when a massive rottie started a fight with my boy #and my first instinct on seeing flying teeth was to sprint towards them and shove my body in between #its very possible it was also just all self preservation leaving my body because i am absolutely going to protect my pup #i would probably fight a bear for him there is no question that i would forcibly shove another dog off with my forearm #but fuck. despite the fact that i /know/ better sometimes i have a real real bad fatigue week and i use dog parks. i have like. #a selective list of ones that i will go to categorized by 'least likely to become a boxing ring'. tons of space. multiple separate areas. #i go only at off times when its not busy! i watch dog body language and keep an eye on him at all times. #ill rotate areas if i spot a potential problem. i have him under verbal control and wouldnt even be there if i didnt. but! like! #despite all that. just fucking anyone can go there. 'oh your dogs a puppy thats why my dog attacked him!' idgaf. #speaking as someone who has raised a reactive dog. if your dog is reactive why in the absolute hell would you take them to a dog park. #why!!! lif your dog is consistently fighting other dogs why would you do that! it does not matter if he 'only attacks dogs that arent fixed' #he is still obviously not having a good fucking time and is not going to enjoy this environment holy shit #just. gggHHGGH. i avoid off leash parks as much as i can already but. fuck. idek the point of this im just. #still a bit riled over having to physically throw myself in the middle of a dog fight while the other owner did absolutely nothing. #like just hovered! while his dog was pinning mine and teeth flying attacking and was actively fighting me trying to keep him off #when i can afford it im gonna find some sort of dog group walk/hike thing instead i do not want to socialize my boy like this #i am tired and very very upset because my boy looked so scared and i swear to god if you arent grabbing your dog i will fight it myself #fuck dude. fuck dog parks and fuck me for knowing better and still using em anyways.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 4- People Of Earth

Summary: On the run from the Avengers in your search for a way off Earth, you meet some mortal annoyances along the way until a certain blue eyed human is able to find you wandering in the forest. But can he convince you to come back to the Avenger’s base with him?

Warning: action, blood, fighting, Bucky doing his best, slight fluff

Masterlist - Chapter 3

So Bucky had been thinking.

If finding Y/N was only as easy as looking at her red dot on the tracker, then damn, he could just teleport to her no problem. Unfortunately the worlds technology hasn't yet reached Star Trek technological advancements, nor can he teleport. It's been a long hectic couple days trying to find her which is starting to drive Bucky up a wall, how is she so sneaky? He can literally see her location at all times but yet she's evaded him at all costs without even trying, she doesn't even know a tracker is attached to the inside of her jacket.

And the team, they haven't been much help at all. They've decided to listen to Fury's orders and stay clear of Bucky's mission when it comes to finding the escaped demigod and bringing her back to the Avenger's base. A lot of help they are. At least Steve checks in for updates when he's not getting pulled into a training session by any particular person of the hour. Maybe the tracker doesn't even work. Maybe?

No, it's Stark made. It has to work, this problem is simply Y/N.

Bucky pulls off to the side of the road near a little park in some rural town way outside of New York City where he knows Y/N went through not even twenty-three hours ago. He opens his door, slamming it shut in frustration before taking in a big breath of fresh air. The day is slightly overcast yet he doesn't appear to mind it at all, having the hot sun blaring down upon him never feels very pleasant. Then again, maybe he's just more familiar with colder temperatures.

A crow flies down across the vacant road from him, it ignores Bucky as it jumps onto the road in order to pick at some road kill of a dead flattened squirrel. Bucky reverts his gaze when his eyes soon land upon a bent wooden telephone line further up the road where it looks like a car ran right into it. Wanting to stretch his legs for a bit and feed into his curiosity, Bucky jogs across the street and over to the area of flattened grass and wood splinters.

He observes the wreckage. Its just as he saw from farther away, a splintered post with pieces of wood spread across the grass from the impact. A couple glass chunks shimmer in the few rays of sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds. There are tire marks imprinted into the mudded ground leading up to the post, he crouches down to get a better look at the source of impact.

A dog barks in the background, its legs getting closer and closer to Bucky until a wet slobbery nose finds its way onto Bucky's right arm. The face of a golden retriever greets him as a young man races to the spot looking very embarrassed.

"Trout! Get away from the man, be nice! Be nice! He might not want your kisses!" He shouts desperately, "Trout!"

Bucky pets the friendly dog while his owner runs to their spot before standing to greet him, "He's fine, don't worry about it."

The red faced man smiles shyly, "I'm so sorry. He gets so excited whenever there's a stranger around I just don't understand it."

Bucky shakes his head, "It's fine, really. I like dogs."

The dog sniffs around Bucky's boots before sniffing the skid marks, "Oh I'm Gio by the way, sorry about my boy Trout. I love him but he can be a lot."

"Hi." Mutters Bucky, "I'm James."

"Nice to meet you..oh..Trout drop that piece of wood you nucklehead it's sharp!" The dog stops before dropping the wood, it starts sniffing around the grounds again. Gio looks at Bucky, "It's too bad what happened here, just last night too. Thank God nobody died! It's just unfortunate."

"What happened?"

Gio nods towards the splintered pole, "Some nutcase ran out in front of the guy driving and then bam, he just swerved to miss 'em and ended up totaling his car and getting a bruised collar bone. He's my neighbor. Poor guy, never got a proper look at the idiot who did it either so there's no one to blame."

Bucky's brows furrow, "No one saw who ran in front of your friend?"

Gio stops a second to think harder on the matter, "Hmm...okay wait a second Nick did say this person moved like faster then a frickin' deer. They were here one second and gone the next, right into the woods."

"Where is Nick now? Is he okay?"

"Oh yeah he's fine, just chillin' in his hospital bed for another day until his headache goes away. Guess he also got a concussion or something, some shit luck I tell you."

"Thank you, I gotta go." Says Bucky quickly before turning on his heels and jogging across the street. Leaving a very confused Gio to go run after his dog again.

There's a hefty possibility that Y/N had absolutely nothing to do with anything surrounding that crash, however, Bucky has to know. He pulls into the Westonville Hospital before Winter Soldier sneaking his way inside and now here he stands on the other side of the door to Nick's room, 213. He knocks, a man answers and says to come in, Bucky does. Shutting the door right after.

The man lays upright in bed, sipping on a juice box as he quickly locks eyes with Bucky. "Hello." Says the twenty-something year old, "You a nurse?"

Bucky could have laughed, "No. Just here to ask you a couple questions."

"Listen man, the police already got my statement. I wasn't drunk...nor on anything at the time. I don't do that shit while driving, I wanna stay alive okay?"

"Right." Mutters Bucky, "I just want to know if you saw this person who caused you to wreck."

He eyes Bucky suspiciously, "Dude are you with the FBI or something? Cause the police think I just saw a deer but I'm telling you it wasn't a deer okay?"

"What was it then?"

The man looks from the door then back to Bucky, he makes a waving motion for him to walk closer, "Dude, this was some lady. She was so fast I never even saw her till she was almost road kill...then....and you're not gonna believe me....then I swear to God, she pushed my car." Whispers Nick before nodding, "Dude that's how I went into the pole, she pushed me and I lost control and BAM! Right into a pole. Asshole, my damn car is fucked."

"Do you know what she looked like?" Nick then proceeds to give an accurate description of you and all your beautiful chaotic-ness, who's apparently still not very fond of human transportation vehicles.  

Bucky then glances from Nick still rambling about you and what a dickhead you must be, to the window showing the woods and half a parking lot. He can't let you escape him again, you might end up killing someone next time and that absolutely cannot happen.

——

Stupid men! Stupid humans getting in your way! These people are irritating and bothersome, all you wanted was to search for the Ancient One in peace. All you want is to find her and get the fuck off this planet so you can confront your brother and...

"Miss are you okay?" A scratchy voice speaks to you from the car to your left, you turn your head to meet the face of a young woman looking at you with kind eyes, "You need a ride?"

"No."

She gives you a look, your appearance is admittedly more roughed up then you would like, but it's been a rough couple days since your last shower and you're technically on the run from Earth's Avengers. "You sure? I got room in here, and a nice place to stay with food and a shower too. Just tryna be nice to someone who looks like they could use a hand." You look like you could use a hand to the face.

Your brows furrow, she reeks of too much perfume and something else, "What kind of food?" You technically do need a ride and this may be your only chance to get one somewhere away from this place in the middle of nowhere. Also a place to stay for the night would be admittedly very nice considering you've been sleeping in trees and behind people's sheds.

Her eyes light up in surprise, "Anything you want. Just tell me and I got you."

"Good."

She unlocks the door, "Come on in. I'm Ava by the way. Nice to meet you, now I hope you don't mind but back at my place I got a couple roommates. But don't worry they come and go, they won't bother you I promise." You don't believe her, but hop in next to her anyways. She looks like she could use a better friend then whoever she stays with. You can smell at least one of them on her.

She gives you a strange faltering smile when you take notice of a nose piercing; she wears a jacket and jeans, although an odd tattoo showing off some line of numbers keeps itself on her right wrist hidden by some colorful bracelets. All in all she is an attractive woman. But her car is no better then her person, the scent is vulgar and repulsive but you're admittedly too hungry to care. Too much perfume.

The ride to her apartment complex takes about twenty minutes, in this time Ava has explained to you how her favorite food, chicken alfredo, is made. She also won't stop looking at the long mirror above your heads, it's like something keeps drawing her attention but there's nothing behind the car of any important significance. Maybe that's just a human thing?

Eventually she takes a couple turns that passes more street stores, houses, and apartments until she drives near a gas station and takes a left for an apartment building of reddish brick that looks like a shitty castle.

It's nestled within the town, with its rear to a small park, oddly enough she claims you can see the city from the roof. Getting out, you watch as she shuts her door before jogging to the back and pulling out a couple groceries. "Oh hey there, can you get the waters, there's like three packs here but we can come back for them later."

You quickly walk to the back of her trunk and lean down to pick up all three waters with ease, her eyes go big, "Oh wow..okay yeah, that'll work." She shuts the back, you begin following her across the parking lot. Stomach growling.

Her wary eyes fall onto you, "So uh, you lift?"

"No."

She nods, "Cool cool, uh you from around here?"

"No."

"Okay cool, I am, well not originally...I was actually from Arizona but then I ran away when I was thirteen because my home life was pretty shit and then I met my boyfriend Jed and he took me here and..." Her face shifts into a frown before it regains it's half smile once more, "Doesn't matter now I guess, it's not fantastic here...with him. But I got a place to stay and a roof over my head and he gets me anything I want really. So it's not so bad."

You can't help but feel somethings not right with her, and this bothers you deeply, "So uh, how's your lover? Jed."

She frowns, "Oh he's nice....I wouldn't say lover I guess....and he's kinda older then me but it's fine really. You might see him, he comes and goes yunno?"

She opens the glass doors for you to walk inside, the area smells of stale air and smoke, "How old?"

She purses her lips together, "Not that much older, I'm seventeen he's just a little above that. But it works for us, he's got me a nice place and he loves me so that's nice." Her smile falters, you can tell something isn't right here but can't quite place your finger on it.

Ava keeps silent for the rest of the trek upstairs until she leads you down a long hallway to a tall white door reading A8 on the front, a small glass porthole in the center. She gets her keys out, "Try not to touch anything, he doesn't like messes okay? Just uh, follow me okay, he might have a friend here."

"Alright then. Proceed." She gives a little nod before unlocking the door and opening it up to reveal a large apartment as clean as a button, with the exception of a few tall thin glass bottles empty of all liquid laying on the short glass table in the lounging area. A large screen is on showcasing something of little importance to you.

Ava sets the groceries on the kitchen counter before racing over to the short table, "Oh sorry about the mess, please just set the waters down by the trash can. Give me a moment." You look down to find a tall thin metal can, doesn't look like a trash can but you set the three cases of water down anyways.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen she hastily rushes in to drop the bottles in the trash can, "I'll put the stuff away, do you-do you want anything?"

"Whatever gives me enough strength to continue on my journey."

"Right. Yeah okay uh we got," She opens up the fridge, "we got some burritos from last night. And fruit....a lot of beer....you don't want that. Here, I'll heat this up for you okay." She shuts the fridge and takes the assumed burrito to another square object hanging from the wall. She pops open the door before placing the food inside and shutting it.

She turns it on. "What is that device?" You ask a sit makes a strange vacuum sound.

She raises a brow, "A microwave." Voice on the tinge of humor, the microwave beeps and she soon opens it back up. "Here ya go! It's a day old so don't worry, still fresh."

She hands it to you, you look down at the warm thing wrapped in a brown paper, "Appreciated."

Your meal is well received and admittedly pretty delicious, once finished do you walk over to the giant glass window to have a look outside, you can see the tops of many trees and farther away across the greenery lays a city just as Ava had spoken of.

Maybe the Ancient One resides somewhere in there, hidden, but within the ginormous labyrinth of steel, cement, and glass. Farther down the hallway a door swings open and the pattering of bare feet is heard walking down the tiled floors of shiny white. This place really is clean, like a small palace for the mortals.

The man stops at the end of the halls archway though you don't care to look at him, "Ava who's the bitch over there? I thought Jed wasn't buying anymore for a few weeks." Whispers the man to the kind woman, Ava, who stands frozen in the kitchen.

You immediately don't like him, but stay your ground to listen, she whispers back, "She's a friend. Needed somewhere to stay for a day or so."

He walks over to her, "He's gonna be pissed when he sees your new friend here. If she's not here to sell, get her the fuck out before your man comes home tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah tonight. His trip to Vegas ended yesterday, he's on his way. Don't you know how time works?"

She shakes her head, "Guess I just forgot is all. I'll make sure she's gone."

He looks over to give you a proper once over, you can hear his heartbeat quicken, "Not too bad either. Nice ass, she looks good..real good, it's a damn shame she's not here to stay for the fun. I wouldn't mind a couple of rounds with her myself."

Your fists clench, you've had enough of this jabbering animal, "Oh really?" You turn around to watch as his eyes go wide when they take notice of the golden color of your irises, "What filth you spill off of that thing you call a mouth is repulsive and disgusting. Who are you may I ask?"

He quickly retains his swagger once again, he takes a step forward, "I'm Jed's right hand man, Antonio, I run this bitch when he's away and I don't like how you're talking to me."

"I'm not entirely fond of your existence. Leave us, I want to speak with Ava alone."

Antonio's face shows bewildered rejection, "Excuse me?"

You take a threatening step forward, "I don't believe my tongue slipped. You heard me correctly. Leave." He keeps still as a statue, mind still processing your words. Clearly no on had ever bothered to talk to him like this before.

He blinks and points a hand up for emphasis, "No whore tells me what I can and can't do in my own goddamn house!" He immediately rushes past Ava to grab something under the kitchen bar.

She gasps in surprise, "Tony no! Don't do this! Put it away she didn't mean it, she doesn't I swear! I swear!"

He walks back around to shove her into the couch, "Shut up." He throws up his arm to reveal a black hand held object that could be nothing else but a small gun, you stare at it in curiosity, expression interested and unfazed.

He doesn't like that, he tilts the gun at you angrily, "What's up now huh! You ain't telling me to do nothin' I run this fucker up in here! So you're gonna fuckin' listen to me you whore! I'll fu.." Antonio's body stiffens, his eyes go wide as saucers when he realizes he's not able to move, not able to speak.

Hands kept to your sides, you curl the fingers of your right hand to bloodbend this imbecile. Moving this hand to the right, Antonio's grasp is forced open and the gun clatters to the floor. "What are you doing!?" Shouts Ava fearfully.

"Teaching a dog a lesson."

Curling the fingers of your other hand, Antonio is forced to walk in staggered painful steps across the carpet at your will, Ava gasps in fright as she watches your little horror show. "Men don't treat their people like animals, you want to act like a beast. Then you'll be one."

His throat makes a dry crackly sound as he tries to scream when you move your hands to orchestrate a new action, Antonio is forced to his knees where he crawls like a dog across the clean carpet. A frightened man he becomes, his movements choppy and forced, body awkward and stiff as he moves on all fours. Proud of your work, you walk over to the man and crouch down to reach his level, "You see, the universe has created us all for a reason. Whether we are powerful or not, that control we have can be taken as it can be given."

He mumbles a reply that cannot be heard properly even by your hears.

"You know of your power?" He shakes his head as you smirk, "Your strength is built from fear and hatred. That is no way to find your place in the world, that is how tyrants lead."

Drool runs down the side of his mouth as his eyes look up to you pleadingly. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Shouts Ava.

You give Antonio a pitiful look, "I know. And this creature deserves more then I'm willing him to do, but because you've gained my respect. I will release him." Standing, you flick your hands and Antonio is released from your trance. He coughs and sputters in a curled up heap on the floor like a beaten old dog.

"Pathetic." You mutter dryly as Ava breaths heavily from the couch.

"Wh-what are you?" She whispers, "Are you a witch?"

"No. But I am someone who is done with this place." You give her a respectful tilt of your head, "Ava, I thank you for your hospitality, but I must leave." She watches as you take one last look around the room before walking towards the closed door. Turning the handle you're prepared to exit when she screams. "Antonio no!"

Boom!

The bullet stops three inches from the back of your head, whipping around to face your assailant, he fires two more rounds as you halt the bullets in their tracks. He registers what's happening and quickly chooses to pull the trigger again. As a plethora of steel flies your way, you raise an open palm that causes them all to freeze in place.

The room goes deathly silent before Antonio takes a single step and you've sent all five bullets straight through his vulnerable flesh. Blood flies across the walls as he slumps to the ground while Ava gasps in terror, too afraid to make a sound.

You frown, gaze set on Ava, "I'm sorry I had to do this in front of you. He gave me no choice, but I think this loss will not be mourned over." Your golden eyes flicker back down at the bullet ridden body, "A quick death is more then he deserved. So long Ava, be brave."

The door opens.

"What the fuck happened here?!" Speaks a man most certainly in his late thirties as he sets something on the ground, "Who's this bitch?"

Ava's expression shifts to fear as you let out a tired sigh, eyes set to the man you know as Jed, "An old friend." ——

Crouched down by a river, you rub off flecks of blood that dissipate into the murky water like forgotten memories. You just wanted to eat and rest a while as you gathered your thoughts. But here you are, you've killed two humans and have damaged a couple busses in the process of it all. Not to mention that one car the other night...at least that man kept his life.

This realm is complicated and busy, there's not enough wilderness to hide in and there are certainly too many prying eyes that can catch you with their small square devices easier then you'd like. Thankfully Ava had not seen your rampage on the internet so she wasn't able to instantly recognize you. Then again you weren't wearing your armor.

However your eye color certainly doesn't aid you in finding a way into the city close by, that's still too far for your liking, people will undoubtedly stare. At this point you don't trust a single soul, and anyone close enough to see your face would most likely report you to the authorities in an instant.

Your goal has been thwarted one too many times and that shit does not fly with you one bit. Find the Ancient One, have her open a portal to your realm, and from there kick your brothers ass. It's all very simple, well at least it should be. Stupid Midgardians.

Hrrrrr Hrrrrrrrr! A loud horn blares from within the woods to your back right, twisting around and standing at attention, your fists emit flame when a huge lumbering mass of metal rolls through the trees practically making the ground shake.

It sounds like a tiny thunderstorm, you've never seen anything like it except for when you where in Norway but that vehicle was significantly smaller and less loud. "God this place is insufferable." You mutter, annoyed by the less then peaceful atmosphere of Midgard.

So far you've evaded the watchful eyes of the Avengers for the past three days and have gotten nowhere on your quest for vengeance. And now this thing just adds to your stirred up pot of frustration.

Taking a breath, you decide to wander through the trees until you've found the tracks where that metal vessel was drawing its power from, oddly enough the steel bars attached to plates of wood does not give off energy. Strange.

Figuring it must be the vehicle itself, you sway your mind from pondering the idea as your thoughts drift to that of home and the necklace hidden around your neck. This valued object was your dying mother's, a heirloom of your linage, and a damn powerful piece of jewelry.

But your brother and his wicked ideas, he wanted to use it for his grant thoughts of tyranny and power over the nine realms. A fool, no one could ever claim such a feat, no place needs rules like such from one being calling all the shots. It's madness.

It's insane.

Shaking your head, you keep following down the tracks as you listen to the sounds of cars in the far off distance. Birds chirp and flutter by while minding their business in the forest, although you could have sworn you heard a soft thud in the dirt behind you. A shuffle of stones maybe?

A deer perhaps? No, this is no deer; halting your trek to the city, you place your hands upon your hips before slowly turning around, "I'd expected as much. You are a clever man after all....Bucky."

The dark haired man greets you with a shy grin as he stands there off to the side of the tracks, dressed in casual attire like that when you saw him in Norway. He seems genuinely happy to see you, "I wish I could stay away." Replies Bucky in a playful tone, "But you've killed two human traffickers and I gotta make sure you don't hurt anyone else. Even if they deserve it."

You scoff, "I could end your life right now if I wanted to, kill all your friends next and then burn this world to ash and dust trying to get what I want. No matter the cowards I've killed."

He shrugs, "That sounds harsh. I'd rather you didn't actually, kinda like being alive." He's such a smartass in the best way, yet you hold back a smile to keep your noble aurora about you.

"Fair point I suppose. This Earth may be greatly flawed, but I have no qualms with the people here but that of my own business."

"Right. Your own business, finding the Ancient One and dealing with your brother and all that stuff." Nods Bucky, "Y/N, you know we could help you..."

"I don't need it! I'll find my way through this planet myself.  Alone!" You shout, causing the trees to creak and moan from a surplus of wind that blows Bucky's hair about. He knows what you're capable of, but he has to try and persuade you anyways.

He looks almost apprehensive to approach you, "Y/N please. I know we all got off on the wrong foot, probably by a lot. But my friends are good people, we want to help you find what you're looking for. I promise you that." Says Bucky with a pleading look, "No lies. I promise."

You give him a conflicted glare as you think of your options; he found you somehow, he legitimately wants to help, and you desperately need a way off this damn planet. Maybe they do know a way, maybe they'll actually be able to help you, maybe Bucky is truthful?

He goes to take a step forward when you throw a hand out, "Stop." He keeps still as you take a breath, "Bucky, you give me your word?"

"I do."

"Promise!"

Raising his hands up, he gives you a sincere look, "I promise Y/N."

Taking a long moment to think over his words, you finally nod, "Good." He watches as you walk across the tracks until you're within a couple feet of him, he swallows, unsure if you might have just lied and are about to set him on fire. Instead he's relieved when you gift him a tight lipped grin, "Fine then, let us leave this place."

"Awesome.....yeah, okay good...well I'm parked back that way. We can just walk on the tracks instead of through the woods. Easier that way." He takes a couple steps back the way you came, when you don't move does Bucky stop and reach a hand out for you to take, "I'm not going to hurt you Y/N, I promised I'd help you remember?"

"I haven't forgotten." You quickly answer him.

"Good because I intend to keep it." He smiles softly, beautiful stormy blues focused all on you with a gloved hand ready for you to take.

You shake your head before walking past him, "Fine but I'm not shaking your hand."

Bucky chuckles to himself as he watches you practically swagger down the side of the tracks away from him. Quickly does he break from his staring trance to jog over to your side. The two of you walk for a little ways in complete silence until you glance over at him when your curiosity gets the better of you. There's just one tiny question you still need answered, "Well, how'd you find me?"

Bucky holds back a grin, "Your pocket." He points down towards your jackets pocket. Giving him a look of confusion, you reach down and feel inside for whatever he's on about, suddenly your fingers touch something round and metal attached to the inside wall.

Taking a hold of this odd device, you tug it loose before bringing your hand into the open, "What the hell is this?" You ask.

Bucky reaches out to take the object from you, he holds it up, "This. Is a tracker."

"That thing? It's like a thick coin, how does it manage to do such a feat?"

"Technology, radio waves. It's not my design, but with it I was able to follow where you went. Granted you're more elusive with your traveling then I'd first realized, but it did it's job...and now I'm here."

"Yes, now you're here. Maybe you really are braver then I first thought, or just a plain fool. I could have stuck to my word and killed you." You snap your fingers, "Just like that."

He chuckles, "I had a feeling you wouldn't."

"Oh really? What made you assume I would be merciful?"

"When we met for the first time in Norway, and later at the base. You didn't hurt me, well I guess I should say you didn't try and squeeze the life out of me. Or set me on fire.."

"I set your jacket on fire." You point out as he smiles.

"You did. I liked that jacket too." Muses Bucky, "Still, you let me live both times. Even let my friends live too, Y/N, I don't think you're so bad at all."

You hum in thought, "Your words are kind and humbling. But I do not feel worthy of such claims." He has no idea who you are, what you've done. So much he doesn't know.

Bucky frowns, "Why not?"

"I have done nothing but add more chaos to this realm with my existence here, I have been betrayed and for that I was filled with rage taken out on innocent people living their lives. I want to be worthy of what you say I am, but I am not." His heart hurts at your valiantly honest words, if only he could understand completely.

"Believe me Y/N, you aren't nearly as bad as you think you are. There's been way worse people throughout history here before you ever showed up."

"I believe your words though my personal occurrence's chance to lessen these people compared to what I have done centuries ago. Do not misinterpret all of what I speak, I understand there are always beings harming others for their own sick pleasure, however I did not frighten for enjoyment. Quite the opposite."

He could just about give up his metal arm forever just to know what the hell you're talking about. What kind of life did you live before all of this? Bucky soon takes out a small square device with his one gloved hand, "I trust your word on that. And hopefully we're able to help you...I just gotta get us a ride out of here first." He turns on a black screen and slides his finger across to unlock, "I have where I parked pin pointed via another tracker."

"You don't recall where you've come from?"

"Yeah, I mean no..no, I do remember the direction I came in, it's just I was running so fast to find you I forget exactly where my car is. Don't worry this will only take a moment."

Holding back a grin at the way he muddles around on that screen of his, you divert your gaze elsewhere to look around at the trees and other various greenery spread about as usual on a planet such as this one. It's fascinating, almost like that of your home world in Vanaheim. How you miss that place. The vast mountains spread throughout the landscape, huge lumbering trees taller then the cellphone towers you've passed, and great skies of blue where dragons fly at will.

Suddenly a stick cracks in the trees to your right, you turn while Bucky pays little attention, a crow flies out and into the blue sky it goes. Easy now, just a bird, nothing more. The wind picks up for a second and you can almost catch the scent of sulfur when a ball of fire erupts from the trees ready to kill.

The spherical flame screams towards you and Bucky, who's by now dropped his phone onto the tracks, "Y/N watch out!" He shouts fearfully, hand gripping onto your shoulder as you keep a strong fearless stance to the approaching flame.

Throwing a hand out, you divert the ball into the gravel where it bursts like a small firework, rocks flying everywhere as you stand at the ready for whatever happens next. "Y/N! What the hell was that!" Shouts Bucky.

"A scout. I think one of my brother's loyalists found me."

"A scou..." Another ball of flame soars towards the two of you and then another right behind it as you maneuver your body to deflect each of them in quick succession when out of the scorched trees does a smirking woman reveal herself. Her smile is proud and wicked, taller then Bucky she stands and impeccably strong she appears.

She wears armor closely resembling your own, but instead of blues, silver, and white. Her armor is black and red, silver replaced with shimmering obsidian as she walks into the evening light. Her eyes flicker gold like your own, she tilts her head at you, "Princess Y/N of Vanaheim. An honor to meet you, truly." She bows with mockery, you immediately despise her.

"What dog is this who speaks to me?"

She grimaces, "Aüla, master of flame, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I am here to bring what stolen jewelry lays upon your neck. What belongs to King Leyondros." She points a sharp nailed finger to your neck, "That, is a house Lavpranthus family heirloom."

"You think I was born yesterday? That incompetent tyrant who dare claim himself as king does not deserve what treasure I possess. He is barely a brother to me now, and you, what business do you serve?"

She smirks, gifting Bucky with a wink as she wiggles her fingers with flame, "He's sent his best out to find your whereabouts since he's exiled you. I just happened to be lucky enough to land on Midgard where wouldn't you know it, here keeps the banished Princess herself. I couldn't be more fortunate." She opens up her palm like a needy child, "Now Y/N, the object I so desire."

"You will die trying."

She holds up a threatening fist of hot flame, "I will be bathed in riches! I will be loved! King Leyondros will welcome his champion with open arms as I present him with the necklace stolen by his traitor sister! With grand tidings of her annihilation!"

You share a dark look with Aüle as you step in front of Bucky, "I do not care to know what bargaining from the beasts of this realm you made to find me. And I certainly do not care for the false promises my brother has warped into your mind, you cannot take my life and you cannot have this necklace."

She calls flame into both hands, "Then I'll take it off your burnt corpse!" She thrusts her hands forward causing a burst of hot orange flames to shoot like dragon fire straight for yourself and Bucky.

Anticipating this action, you create a wall of your own fire that shatters her advances, you turn to the wide eyed brunette, "Bucky forgive me for not handling this sooner. I hadn't realized she was here."

"It's fine." Mumbles Bucky, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stares fearfully at the angry woman spewing fire at you still.

Focused back on Aüla, she suddenly begins creating whips of flame that crack and slash at the air. She throws a whip towards Bucky but you're able to deflect it easily, in retaliation of her advances, you thrust a burst of dusty wind knocking her backwards.

She tumbles across the gravel like a discarded sack of potatoes, jumping gracefully down from the high point of the tracks, you land nearby this hellfire spawn who staggers to her feet. Rubbing the dust from out of her eyes, she coughs, "Foul play Princess, I should have guessed you'd cheap shot."

"You still believe you're leaving here with my necklace?"

Leaving her charcoal stained eyes be, she opens her palms to flame, "Well I certainly don't intend on perishing at your hand. I will get what I came for."

You throw a quizzical look, is she insane? Not wanting to ponder her mental stability, you use the gravel to crawl it up to her knees where it fuses and roots itself into the ground, she flails her arms trying to regain balance. Angered by this, Aüla clenches her fists, tightly hugging them to her chest as she concentrates.

A small orange glow emits from the center of her chest before she screams while opening her arms to the sky and with that her whole body erupts with flame like that of a Phoenix reborn. Tree branches and leaves alike are burnt and singed nearby while her anchor is melted.  Aüla levitates freely now, body a mass of hot flames as she stares furiously down at you with eyes of black charcoal.

"Behold the Phoenix! Now you will obey by law of the one true king!" Fire is thrown like thin arrows towards your face, again, easily deflected into the gravel below.

She chuckles darkly, thrusting a hand of intense flame that causes you to fall backwards across the ground. Pushing yourself up by the pads of your hands, she takes this vulnerable moment to race after Bucky with wings of fire.

Face contorted like a melted candle, her arms open wide as she prepares to embrace Bucky to the flames. Jumping up, you bend your arms, moving them in opposite directions on a linear path to conjure some type of protection. Aüla slams into an enchanted force field of dark blues that sends her flailing backwards like a bursting firework.

Regaining her balance, she levitates, scowling in disgust, "You? Would protect this mortal man?"

Your gaze falls onto Bucky, he's standing there, expression fearful and wide as he looks at you desperately. You take a step forward, "I will."

"But why? He is nothing compared to you, to us, he's simply an insect on a leaf."

"He is someone who has showed me more kindness in the last couple days then some of my own people have in the past hundred years!" You shout furiously before using your magic to paralyze her like you did with Wanda and Vision.

She struggles to move but all efforts are unfruitful, "Do not! Don't. You. Dare!" She screams as you take another fearless step towards her, raising your hands in a beautiful fluid motion, her obsidian irises flash with terror.

"Aüla, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I admire your efforts and valor. But I am not so merciful when my life as been threatened, as someone of these nine realms with some type of authority still. I, Y/N Lavpranthus of Vanaheim, condemn you to die." Your golden eyes flash with a noble flair of judgment while your hands sway like subtle waves on a beach.

"No. No. Nooo..." Her screams are eradicated when a burst of water consumes her entire vessel, she sizzles and smokes as you draw the river water away to reveal nothing but discarded broken armor. She never even noticed you were doing this.

As a plethora of water dissipates into steam from where she once stood, more liquid fills through the cracks in the gravel while you slowly wander over to the dark spot stained onto the center tracks. Kneeling down, you pick up an obsidian gauntlet cracked down the middle curve. "Who was that?" Asks Bucky from behind you.

"One of my brothers scouts. His best fire-bender.." You study the intricate markings that dance like vines around the metalwork, "..a phoenix in human form."

There is a long pause before he asks, "Why are you being hunted Y/N?"

You sigh, head bowed to the earth, "It's a long story."

Bucky frowns down at you, he's not sure what to do, but he knows you're deeply troubled by whatever events have led you to this point. A comforting hand rests upon your shoulder, "You don't have to tell me now. But I think we should go."

Dropping the broken gauntlet onto the dark stained wood, you stand, "Perhaps you're right. Who knows what else lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce. I'd rather not have you injured on my behalf."

Bucky shares a lopsided grin, "Appreciated. Now come on, I know the way home." Directs Bucky as the two of you begin walking down the tracks for wherever he speaks of.

Maybe these people aren't as bad as you'd first thought, unfortunately there are still evils that are desperate to find you. Until that time comes again.

-

Tagged:  @buckylokisimp​ @diegos-butt​ @minigranger​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @lilacs-lavender​  @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @bizarrebibitch​ @starkssnarks​ @vikingqueen28​ @jmstz​ @thehornytitties​ @staygoldsquatchling02​ @cleverzonkwombatsludge​ @mischiefmanaged71​​ @noragracebrewer​   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #series #bucky barnes series #my work

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM RED VS. BLUE SEASON 15

“you touch my baked beans, i put dog shit in your pillowcase.” “every other person in this miserable place is literal garbage.” “books on tape? what's the appeal of that? don't the pages get stuck together?” “when in doubt use a confusing acronym. military types love acronyms.” “FML. that stands for fu--” “i’ll bend down and kiss your boots, how’s that?” “i wanna know every step you take and how much shit gets stuck on your shoes and in-between your teeth.” “you know, i think i'll probably move to LA, but that's like what everyone does. i mean, what do you think?” “i’m gonna skin your cat for this.” “i’m actually thinking of adopting a stage name.” “i’m gonna smash cut your empty skull against that rock if you don’t shut the fuck up!” “i wanted to call it desert titties, but that shit was taken.” “ah, there goes the bechdel test.” “you should interview the illuminati!” “real talk here: i'll be your genie in a bottle, i'll do whatever you want, but after i grant you your three wishes, you gotta do something for me, whaddaya say?” “my ceaseless existence is an eternal torment!” “next time he calls you please, just, let it go to voicemail. don't transfer to me. okay?” “i can’t even hear myself think in this blizzard of idiocy!” “did you attempt to witness any other particular individuals in the general vicinity of the area in which the crime scene was alleged?” “i just wanna be included!” “funny, the vultures usually show up after the slaughter.” “you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you? i like that.” “consequences... don't always take the shape we expect them to, do they? they're funny like that.” “...are we still married?” “people are quick to jump to conclusions. they see something, or hear something, and fit it into a preconceived emotional box.” “please don’t make me regret what i’m about to tell you.” “whoa, hold up--i just realized how much i don’t care.” “SUCK IT, NEWTON!” “we said we wouldn’t talk about that!” “help me be the best at being lazy.” “it was a simple mishap with my vanilla-satin scented candles!” “why is he naked?” “HOW DO YOU BURN DOWN A WATER PARK, ___?!” “we’re definitely not just saying that because she could kill us.” “for far too long our people have been oppressed, crushed, under the weight of ourselves! if we don't start standing up to our mortal foe gravity, by god, who will?” “we’ve never needed intelligence before!” “why doesn’t anybody die and stay dead?” “oh, cool! foreshadowing.” “who wants a poisoned pumpkin frappuccino?” “i quit. i’m not going. i’m staying here.” “you’ve always been selfish, but this is bullshit!” “you know, i liked them better when they were funny.” “it’s a bop-it.” “sleep. means. death!” “i know ___ said we should split up, but i was thinking maybe we split up together, you know, because it's scary!” “you talk about ___ a lot.” “this is a big city. so many places for snakes to hide. they could be everywhere all around us. watching us... licking their snake lips...” “jesus, doesn’t anybody speak esperanto?” “err is not a word.” “why do you look alone?” “why don't you tell us what's going on, and we can decide whether to kill you or not?” “looks like we've got quite the sticky mess on our hands!” “oh, i know all about sausage parties! uh, wait, that came out wrong.” “when I least expect it: whambo! you pry open my mind prison and suck out my brain beans!” “i realize now that i’ve just spilled all my brain beans.” “we're just a bunch of dumb rejects hurling ourselves against impossible odds.” “i’m only saying something because i’ve been used enough times in my life already.” “nice! super awesome of you guys! that was sarcastic.” “don’t care. just help me with my dramatic exit.” “that's a great idea! i was just about to suggest it.” “i always say a marine without a code is like a car without a road.” “i always say the best defense is a really tall fence.” “i always say a good soldier is like a rollin’ boulder.” “i always say a mantra a day keeps death at bay.” “i've grown soft around these uncultured philistines.” “goddamn, i can’t believe i have to hear this shit in stereo now.” “you two look cozy.” “i didn’t realize you two were close.” “you’re being too hard on yourself. you’ve changed over the years, i’ve seen it myself.” “i've grown from being a dishonorable killing machine to an honorable killing machine. that's quite the journey.” “i changed my mind. you are evil.” “you don’t have to destroy the past to have a future.” “strategizing can wait until breakfast, at least.” “i killed them. i MURDERED them. i set my vengeance free upon them and it felt so good!” “are we gonna do some snooping around?” “have you ever considered a life in showbusiness?” “try harder, fuckface!” “can we please just bury the hatchet and focus on what's important?” “your mother’s lasagna is mediocre!” “if you guys had to get shot somewhere in your body, where would you do it?” “i can't hear you because some idiot shot my ear off!” “this whole situation is garbage enough to begin with, but... at least we're in it together.” “no plan survives first contact with the enemy.” “the only thing that would make this better is some music.” “we were pawns in their game. but the thing that I love about chess is that sometimes pawns kill kings.” “no, actually, i was raised by wolves. in the forest.” “sometimes i feel like people barely acknowledge my presence.” “something weird might be going on around here.” “anyone who's acting that squeaky clean must have some deep dark secrets.” “ha! gotcha! that's exactly the kind of things bad guys say!” “they used us, they destroyed our lives, and they haven't been made to pay for what they've done.” “you obviously love the sound of your own voice, so why don't you use it to tell its where the fuck our friends are?” “i’m going to kill you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead.” “we fought alongside each other for fucking years. how can you just turn your backs on us like this?” “you don't get to give orders if you're on the bad guys' side!” “now I have gonorrhea and a dead friend.” “stop. touching. my face.” “buckets! oodles! oodles of noodles and toaster strudels! tiempo de mucho. mucho de tiempo!" “yeah, well, i don't remember you being anything but a huge dick, but here you are being cool, so people change.” “yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!” “but.. i never got to say goodbye. or thank you for being my friend.” “i'm gonna need a week at the chiropractor when we get out of here.” “is it possible to hallucinate with your ears?” “i’m not here to kill you.” “uh-oh spaghetti-o’s.” “fuck me! fuck all of this!” “you should totally kill me if it strikes your fancy! no pressure!” “the world's best swordsman doesn't fear the second best. He fears the worst, because he can't predict what the idiot will do.” “i can't imagine us doing anything but making this all worse.” “shit, dude! you’re the best we’ve got!” “i like pushing small children down wells.” “can we please settle on a consistent denomination? are we using cardinal directions or are we using clock positions?” “i'm so sneaky. they don't even know what's happening. you can't even see me right now, ___. you're so confused.” “shut up and help me punch this fucking tank!” “as far as days to die go, it's a little overcast. so let's check our corners and make these bastards pay!” “let's light the fires and kick the tires!” “let’s dance with these monkeys and give ‘em what for!” “let's put the pedal to the metal and the rubber to the road!” “let’s get jiggy with it!” “let’s shoot this monkey full of heroin and put it on youtube! actually, let's not do that, it sounds completely horrible.” “let’s teach these midgets how to tango!” “honor, schmonor.” “scout's honor! except I was never a scout because I'm afraid of badges.” “why are we here?” “we don't know why we're here. it's still one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?” “i’m sorry i tried to kill you, it wasn’t personal!” “you'll be stuck between a rock and the frying pan.” “if i said that i would weep for them, would it make you feel any better?” “best friends should be able to say goodbye.” “i think you are cool. like, super awesome, amazing, cool and... i, i always felt like really awesome too, when we were hanging out together.” “i know with my other friends--who, even if you add them all up together aren't really cool as you--i know we're all gonna be okay.” “if you kill me, you'll just perpetuate this never-ending cycle of revenge and retaliation!” “he asked us to deliver an important message to you all. but then he just sang the ducktales theme song and fell back to sleep.” “you know i’ll never forget this, right? i mean, PTSD is forever, isn’t it?” “it’s not the sum of your parts that makes you who you are.” “these people have shown me that real heroes are not born, they're forged. a friend told me once that there's no fate but what you make. and i think he's right.” “alright, well, i'm just gonna try to forget that ever happened and never bring it up again.”

#sentence starters #rp memes #rp meme #ask memes #ask meme #long post

[rescuestudies]

types of people: my fire station

hey! it seems that you guys love the types of people memes I make so here’s another one! (I LOVE MY STATION SO MUCH...these are jokes!)

Captain: screams into the void, “beds made by 10″, “god dammit Jordan!”, edgy but actually a softie, so much salt, EMS without the cert, the color red, “yeet!”, soft spot for T, training is his jam, perfect balance of fun and stern, lowkey stressed out, hates writing reports, will be your biggest fan, “there was fucking Kerosene dude!”, managing is his happy place despite how not fun it is, probably has a planner somewhere 

Lt. : chill dad, awful dad jokes followed by dorky laughter, Steelers fan til death, gives T a hard time, soft spot for Jordan, kitchen cleaning master, only person who likes pumping water, did i mention he’s a dad, loves sharing his knowledge of the fire service, gives gentle reminders to be kind to yourself, will support you til the end, mini golf legend, if puppies were people he’d be a golden retriever, devoted to his family and wife, will preach to you about how life takes time 

Junior Mint: loves cats to a fault, will send you memes to make you feel better, plays too many PC games, gentle roasts to make the mood lighter, always down for some training, knows so much to be so young, a bright future ahead of him, taking things a day at a time, wings it 90% of the time and still does great, loves milk more than anything, epic bruh moment, picks on T for fun, just trying to make his life a good one 

Richy Rich: will kill you if you call him that, emo but in an adult way, gaming but make it indie, gives great advice followed by eh advice, the most neutral human being ever, so smart but such a smartass, takes training very seriously (but in a fun way), tries not to lose his patience with people but eventually cracks, the confidant friend everyone goes to but doesn’t listen to him when he needs it, the color blue, late nights and early mornings, south park memes, has no issue fact-checking a bitch 

Caleb: star wars enthusiast, giggly smiles, taking things a day at a time, genuinely wants you to win, appreciates the little things more than most of us, dad jokes all the time, accepts his flaws and tries to fix them, motivational quotes, take on me by a-ha probably loops in his head all day, wants the simple life, would make a great dad and also public health educator, genuinely loves helping others, makes it really hard to be mad at him

Jordan: gives corgi vibes lowkey, “it’s okay, i’ll teach you”, loves sharing his knowledge, not afraid to make mistakes, warm smiles, the type of person you simply can’t hate, always upbeat, probably has cake by the ocean playing on repeat in his head, loves the kids, passionate about fire but taking his time to get where he needs to be, will be the sober friend at a party, will never make you feel unloved or alone, “what’s up goofy”

T: angry but means well, loves the fire service but refuses to settle, just wnats to help people even before she helps herself, loves devious cats and silly dogs, lowkey afraid of commitment, definitely uses angst as a defense mechanism, will talk your head off about candles or healthcare inequalities, afraid of being wrong sometimes, that friend that will put you first, screams into the void, “Did my back hurt your knife?”, has no idea how to teach things without getting frustrated, that annoys her bc she really wants to train others, would die for her captain, hates people that underestimate women, a walking talking ass whoopin, “fuck you, i’ll do it myself” 

NASA: the smartest in the group probably, also a himbo somehow, anxious around women, *country boyyyy I love youuuuu*, dad glasses paired with dad jokes, probably the best cook on the crew aside from Lt., fills awkward silence with awkward laughter, can’t handle his wine, “what’s that supposed to mean?”, dying inside, lots of witty remarks, scribbled math equations on napkins, avoiding social situations to recharge battery, open ears and a silent mouth, keeps all your deepest secrets but still judges you lowkey, would die for anyone on his crew no matter how annoying they are, honestly a wholesome guy

YeeYee: loves ducks, probably cottagecore but add some camo, sends T some tiktoks, loves his girlfriend more than he loves life itself, hates school but went anyway, amazing teacher and sharer of information, big ole truck, unhinged chaos at any given moment, loves to play around with EMS supplies, “love me some McConaughey”, 3 black coffees followed by a scream into the hallway, “fuck my quiz!”, random road rage videos, on a chill scale, he’s the most chill, gets more unhinged when country music plays, “look at all those chickens” 

i love my crew so much man! i hope yall enjoy!

#types of people #types of people meme #types of girls #types of students #types of aesthetics #aesthetic #vibes #kinds of people #tag yourself #TAG YOURSELVES #tag yourself meme #tag meme #tags meme #studyblr #fire rescue

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #376

“when the wind bends the branch to softly touch me  /  when the band plays your song  /  i feel strong enough to keep dreaming”

If your s/o smoked pot/did drugs would you care? Yes, but for pot that's only because it's illegal here. I also find smoking to be a turn-off, but I'd be able to look past that if it was for actual health reasons. Do people ever call you by your last name? No. Has the last person you dated/fell in love with ever seen you cry? Yes. Where are you going on your next vacation (or where do you WANT to go)? I've got none planned, nor do I know where I'd want to prioritize. Like there's South Africa, but I first need to get healthier before I could handle the heat and trudging through sand. I want to go to Yellowstone National Park to spread Teddy's ashes there (seeking permission of course), but again, I need to be in better shape before I go on a venture of photographing there, as well. I need to be healthier to do a lot of the things I want to... Do you own anything bought in another country? No. Who do you text the most? Sara. Four things you wish you had? Better health (including mental), financial stability, a job, and motivation to indulge more in my artistic hobbies. What was the last thing you cried about? Stress regarding this dog we're stuck with. What is your favorite Elvis song? Probably "You're The Devil In Disguise." Do you think you could be the next American Idol? Ha, absolutely not. Do you prefer reading fiction or non-fiction? Fiction, by a long shot. Does anybody send you money in the mail for your birthday? No. My grampa used to, but he's been dead a couple years. Who is one person you met and automatically didn’t like? I was not a fan of a doctor I once saw for my tremors. She was very rude and just threw the idea of me having Parkinson's or something at what, 17 years old or whatever? My psychiatrist knows her as well and knows she's a whackjob. Heard her name and was essentially like "ew" lmao. What monster would you be most afraid to have in your closet? A male one with a knife, I guess. I really hate knives. And men scare me anyway. Which Adam Sandler movie do you like the most? I don't know, he's in too many to possibly think of one right off the top of my head. Who was one of your first celebrity crushes? Jesse McCartney was my first true love, haha. Have you ever been hit on through text messages? Yes. Do you have to do any yard work? No. Have you ever mowed the lawn? No. Do you get an allowance? No. Did you ever know your great grandparents? I think I knew one? There was this woman from my childhood I knew as "GG" for "great grandma," but I have no recollection of who she was related to or even if she was directly related to me. I remember that I really really liked her, though. Do you like the taste of Tums? It's the texture I really don't like. The candy-like Tums though, y'know, not the chalky ones, I like more than someone should like medicine, haha. How about Pepto Bismol? Omfg no. Do you have a fast or slow metabolism? I have a slow metabolism, but thank Christ it's not as bad as when I was on Abilify. That stupid fucking medicine was the reason I gained so much weight that I haven't been able to lose. What’s your favorite onomatopoeia? (Crash, bang, zoom, meow) I dunno. Do you eat ramen? There's only one specific kind of ramen I've had that I like: Yakisoba's spicy chicken one. Sweet or regular pickles? Regular. I don't like sweet pickles. What kind of dreams do you have most often? Since my nightmares started, violent ones. I'm usually trying to defend myself or lashing out at someone myself. What do you do for personal growth? I try to be a deep thinker, for one. This can way too easily lead to overthinking, but I appreciate that I think it at least helps me learn from my mistakes and work towards making me a better person. I need to start challenging my anxiety more, as that would definitely be massive growth... If you could read anyone’s mind, who would be the first person you’d read? Jason's, only because all I want to know is if he thinks I was emotionally abusive after the breakup or not. But I also don't want to know. Do you have a makeup item or style trick that you feel improves your look significantly and that you feel like you couldn’t go without now that you have it? No. What’s your favourite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but I like a lot of cereals. Do you prefer red wine or white wine? I don't like wine. Way too bitter. Do you read Reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? I don't, but I've thought about lurking on a reptile husbandry one or something like that. Might learn some stuff. But at the same time, there are so many conflicting and very strong opinions amongst hobbyists to the point of awful toxicity that I'd rather not read. Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend? No. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? God no. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? Probably Scrabble back when Sara visited. Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why? Cash, because I don't have a debit or credit card. Do you believe sex should be mandatory in an ongoing dating relationship? Um, no? Some people don't care for it, and that's completely fine. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you like deviled eggs? NO. FUCK that yolk shit. What career are you most interested in? I still think my first career goal, a paleontologist, would be most interesting and exciting. Like just IMAGINE discovering a new dinosaur. And it's such a job of passion - you have to be so, SO careful and invest so much time in slowly recovering it from millions of years of rock and sand and time. I can only imagine the feeling of accomplishment when an excavation is complete. Have you ever seen a rooster? Yeah? What do you think about religion? Honestly, I personally wish it had never been a thing. It's brought with it so much hatred and bigotry, but I do acknowledge at the same time it's brought great comfort and hope to some people, and that's wonderful. But just all things considered, I feel it's done more harm than good. What’s your favorite sweetheart name (baby, honey, angel, dumpling) Probably "lovely." Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? Yes, back when I babysat my neighbor's kid once. Have you ever thrown a grenade? Yikes, no. Have you ever talked face to face with someone famous before? No. Have you ever owned a rocking horse? I don't think so? If you could meet anyone in the world who would it be? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Have you ever wished you were dead? Yes. Is it awkward when people start talking all deep around you? No, I actually like deep convos. Have you ever played the old school Pac Man arcade game? Possibly? Ever played Mario Karts on Nintendo 64? No. Have you ever been scuba diving? No. Can you surf/boogie board? No. Do you like Chinese food, Mexican food, or American food better? American. What’s your favorite thing to order from Taco Bell? Cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatos. Sometimes I get the cinnabon delight thingies, but I avoid 'em with how unhealthy they are. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Pretty hot. Do you like to swing? I LOVED swinging as a kid. I haven't done it in a very long time now. How about jumping on a trampoline? I loved that as a kiddo, too. I haven't done that in years. What are you favorite color eyes? Sapphire blue or like an emerald green. Do you have long arm hair? Nah, at least I don't think so. What third generation console is your favorite? PS3, Xbox 360, or Wii? I loved my PS3. I'm still so bummed mine broke. How often do you like to have sex? I'm not sexually active, but even when I was, I didn't care. Do you have a facial expression you seem to pull a lot? What is it? Not really. I think I look stoic most of the time. Do you always listen to music when you’re online? No; I usually have a let's play or something like that on that I can split my screen and watch while doing something else. If so, what are you currently listening to? I'm listening to "Love Goes On And On" by Lindsey Stirling and Amy Lee right now. Do you ever forget how to do really simple things? Like what? Yes, like how to control the laundry machine and other things like that. There's just so many options that I never, ever remember what to set it to, no matter how many times Mom shows me. That's how my memory is with most things these days, really... Were you born with naturally straight teeth? No; I needed braces. If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? Uhhh maybe Severin. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? I love both, but sour wins. What about chocolate or peanut M&M’s? I also enjoy both, but the original are better. Your favourite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? That's like... impossible to answer, lol. I just love everything. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? No. Do you secretly still listen to Ace of Base? I have no idea who that is. Have you ever broken someone else’s bone? No, thank goodness. I'd feel awful. Is it stupid to think you can write a book at thirteen? No?????????? There are incredibly talented writers out there at young ages. Hell, I remember as a kid, I wanted to be the youngest published author way before that age. Are you ever embarrassed about what you dream about? There've been some I wouldn't share. Have you ever had sex with someone as a favor? No, and I never would. Does your mom let you date? I'm 25, my dude. She let me when I felt ready, though. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? She doesn't have one, but hypothetically, fuck no. Because that's none of my damn business, and it still wouldn't be even if we were still dating. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not have you ever come close? I've fainted once when I was a teen and have come close many other times. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in class, or how you used to before you took the class? Yeah; it was mandatory for I think one year in middle school. I type how I was taught in there. Do you find your best friend’s significant other/crush attractive? She doesn't have an s/o, and idk who her "real" crush is, as much as she'd love Frieza to be real, haha. What do you do with your clothes that don’t fit anymore or just don’t want? Donate them. Do you cut out coupons? My mom will keep some fast food ones she gets in the mail sometimes. Did you ever breathe in helium and talk funny afterwards? I think I did once at a birthday party, but I'm unsure. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? I want to be a freelance photographer so, so badly. I want to specialize in nature and wildlife, but having a boudoir studio would be great to help keep me afloat, plus I adore the art of boudoir. I've shot it once for an old friend, and by god, I loved how empowered it made her feel, especially as a plus-sized woman. She adored the pictures, and I'd just love to help other clients feel like they're gorgeous in their unique body, too. Last type of candy you ate? I had a donut from Starbuck's yesterday. Did you decorate your house for Halloween? If so, how many decorations? Did you go all out, or just put up a few things? Mom and I don't really decorate anymore. :/

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''love goes on and on (feat. amy lee)'' by lindsey stirling

[nightwingshero]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAIGE

Happy birthday, hun!!! @joeyhxdson and I collaborated to bring you an awesome birthday gift! Em, you did fantastic as always!!! Such a beautiful background and you captured the girls beautifully!!!

Thank you @xbaebsae​ and @returnofthepd3​ for allowing me to include your lovely deps!!!!

I wrote a fic to go along with it, since I can’t be there to party with you, Em and I decided that it was important that our deps threw something together for Veronica. You’re a total sweetheart and my best friend. We love you and I hope you have an awesome 21st birthday!!! 💖💖💖💖

“Happy birthday, asshole.” Wren said with a smirk as she elbowed Veronica. She rolled her eyes at her best friend, swatting her on the shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, thanks.” Veronica replied sarcastically.

Wren hummed, taking a sip of her beer as she watched Mary May walk back to some other customers on the other side of the bar. “Any big plans?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Veronica fought the urge to sigh. Chances were that she would just go to her mom’s and hang out for a bit. She knew she would whip up a cake, despite her mom trying hard to keep it a secret. It wasn’t exactly a secret when she did it every year, but it warmed her heart at the thought behind it. “Maybe go see my mom, then rent a movie to watch with Olive.”

“Lame.” Wren threw her head back and groaned. Veronica shot her a look.

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, you love my mom.”

“Yeah, but that means you’re getting cake without me. Also, why not throw a party?”

Veronica hesitated before pressing her own bottle to her lips and taking a drink. It wasn’t that Veronica hadn’t thought about it, it was just that…well, she didn’t really know what to do or who to even invite. She stopped having birthday parties after her dad left, and it wasn’t like she ever felt the need to start that back up again. But each year, as she contemplated, she would end up just doing the same damn thing.

It was the first birthday she was celebrating since Wren became her partner at the Sherriff’s Department. Wren was a bit older than her, by only a few years, and Veronica was worried at first that it would make a difference. But it really hadn’t. They became fast friends and had each other’s back. Wren was the voice of reason when Ronnie needed it and Ronnie always had a way of helping Wren loosen up a bit when it was called for.

Placing her bottle on the bar, she glanced at Wren. “I don’t know, I guess I just never get around to it.”

Wren threw her a look, her hair shifting and showing off her new blue flannel. “Says the person who makes sure that every single one of us is here on St. Patrick’s Day. You know how to throw a party.”

“I’m okay with drinking with my best friend.” Veronica turned away, fidgeting with her jean vest. “I got some new stuff from Sharky to smoke later, so I’m good.”

Glancing at her phone, Wren hopped off the barstool. “Hey, I have this really cool idea. Come on!”

“We’ve been drinking, Wren. Where the hell should we be going?” Veronica snorted and she knew she wasn’t wrong. They had been here as soon as Spread Eagle opened, Whitehorse being kind enough to give them the day to enjoy Ronnie’s day. To say they had a few would be an understatement, but Wren threw a mischievous look over her shoulder.

“Don’t tell me that Veronica Rook is scared?”

With a huff, Ronnie followed suit, calling to Mary May to keep their tab open. The brunette gave a triumphant smile and Veronica rolled her eyes. Stepping outside, she frowned as she watched Sharky jump out of his jeep, with a weird trailer hooked to the back of it, the loud barking almost making Veronica flinch. What the fuck was going on?

“Hey there, Shorty!” Sharky waved at her before adjusting his cap and turning to Wren. “It’s all ready. Whenever you are.”

“And he’s still at the station?” Wren asked, throwing him a worried glance.

“Well, that’s what Hurk said.”

Relief washed over her partner’s face. “Good. That’s good.”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on here?” Veronica finally cut in, causing Wren and Sharky to exchange glances. Wren shrugged, throwing Veronica a smirk.

“You remember when we had to arrest Zip at the farm a while back? And we had to run after him?”

Veronica wrinkled her nose. Of course she did. It hadn’t been that long ago, about three weeks if she had to guess. Her and Wren both had to chase the guy down, not only was he causing issues for the farmers, but he had a few counts of slander against him. John Seed, Grace Armstrong, and Adelaide Drubman being a few of his victims in that damn magazine he wrote.

He had taken one look at them before he had dropped his protesting sign and ran, jumping a fence and flinging mud as he went. They were right on his heels, trying their best to herd him in the pasture they were in, but they were almost certain he was on something. He had been seen hanging around Tweak the last few months, so it wouldn’t have been too shocking, and they later found out that they were right. But it was bringing him in that made Veronica cringe, because all three of them ended up in the mud, both deputies trying the best they could to keep the man down, and still, long enough to cuff him.

Veronica would’ve paid serious money for COPS to have been there to film it.

Or at least, that’s what she originally had thought. While her partner seethed in the driver’s seat on their way back to the station, Veronica couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. And she told her partner as such, adding that there was never a dull moment in Hope County, in which she received a withering glare from Wren in return. She had only shrugged. It wasn’t until they got to the station that her mood took a dark turn, with John Seed’s stupid smug face. She could still hear his damn taunting. It took damn near a week to remove all the mud from her hair.

“What about it?” Veronica asked, not pleased at the reminder of the incident.

Wren’s smirk twisted more, and Veronica immediately recognized the dark mischief in her eyes. “Are you ready for vengeance, my friend?”

Taking a step forward with her hands on her hips, Veronica narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Get in and you’ll find out.”

The brunette turned, taking the keys Sharky offered up, and hoped in behind the wheel. Veronica grumbled, wanting to go back into the bar for another round. She wanted to celebrate her birthday, not do…whatever the hell these two had in mind. And once she was buckled and ready to go, she turned to her best friend.

“Dude, seriously, what are we doing?”

“We’re going to break into John’s ranch and leave him a present.” She replied, finally, and Veronica’s eyes widened.

“We’re what?!” she gasped, both from shock and excitement. But being the cop that she was, Veronica felt the apprehension set in. “You know that’s illegal, right? What if we get caught?”

“Is it so illegal if I have these?” Wren fished a set of keys out of her pocket, dangling them in front of Veronica’s face. “Besides, didn’t you just say that you bought a little something from Sharky to smoke later?”

“That’s different!” It wasn’t. Not really, but Veronica was focused on the set of house keys that hung delicately from Wren’s pointer finger. “How the hell did you get John’s house keys?”

“It’s not at all different!” She snatched the keys back with a wicked grin. “And a lady never reveals her secrets.”

“Bold of you to call yourself a lady, Wren.”

“I’ve been called worse.” She teased, starting the car and putting it in gear. “Besides, if you stopped staring at John’s ass, you would catch on to the things that go on around you.”

Ronnie threw her head back and laughed as the wind gently played with her hair as Wren drove. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I can multitask.” Wren smirked with a shrug and Veronica laughed harder.

The rest of the drive was in comfortable silence, Veronica giving up trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Wren wouldn’t say a damn word, and Ronnie knew it. Part of her was okay with allowing it to be a surprise, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. The idea that they were getting revenge was sweet enough. She couldn’t wait to see his damn face when they…well, when they did whatever they were going to do.

Ronnie didn’t know what to expect when they got to the ranch but being completely empty wasn’t it. Wren pulled off to the side, putting the Jeep in park and looking over. “Okay, I’m gonna jump out and guide you. You think you can back this thing up to the door?”

“Wren…” Ronnie started, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Just back it up! You’ll be fine!” Wren gave a bright smile and jumped out. Veronica huffed, climbing over, and adjusting the seat before shutting the door so she could use her mirror. With Wren’s guidance, she began to align and back the trailer up slowly to the double doors of John’s ranch. Finally, with Wren giving her the signal, Veronica stopped and put the car in park and shut if off.

She found Wren already unlocking the doors to the house as the barking continued. “You gonna fill me in now?”

“You know how John is a dog person?”

Veronica threw Wren a look as if she were insane. “No, he hates dogs. Him and Jacob were giving each other shit over some of the wolves that Jake was training at the F.A.N.G Center.”

“Exactly.” Wren breathed out, pushing the doors open, lining them up with the trailer as makeshift borders. “He loves them so much, we’re gonna leave him some.”

It was like her brain short-circuited. Ronnie could’ve sworn that she had heard Wren wrong, and she was trying to put it together. “You…holy shit!” she breathed out as a wide smile made its way across her face, her hands running through her hair as it all came together. “Oh my god, he’s going to be so pissed! Where did you get all the dogs?”

“Yeah, about that.” Wren looked sheepish. “They have some domesticated wolves up at the Center, the same ones that Jake was training and working with. They’re from that guy that had that illegal zoo, I think? Well, some of them got transferred here since they had the room. I called in a favor, and well…”

“Wolves. We’re going to put wolves in John Seed’s house?”

“Muddy wolves.” Wren corrected. “It rained, and the owners let them run along and play in the mud. Just for the occasion.”

“Remind me to never fuck with you.” Veronica laughed. “You wrathful ass.”

Her best friend scoffed as she approached the trailer. “Oh, like you’re any better.”

“Hmm. Maybe we should get matching wrath tattoos.”

“I suffer from more than just the one sin, Ronnie.” Wren laughed. “Alright, I’m gonna open this quick, and jump to the side. Make sure to keep the door steady, we don’t want any to get away. They’ll have my ass.”

“I gotcha.”

Ronnie grabbed a hold of John’s door, holding it in place as Wren unlocked the metal door. She was fast, opening the trailer door and getting out of the way. And it was a good thing, too. Wolves, as Ronnie learned, were hyper. They darted out, at least five of them, and into John’s ranch and they were caked in mud.

“Close the doors!”

Before the wolves had a chance to turn back around, they slammed the doors shut, Wren locking it quickly.

“Holy shit, I wish I had their energy.”

“They’re young.” Wren replied with a heavy exhale before throwing Ronnie a bright smile, her hands resting on her hips. She gave the front doors another thoughtful glance. “Still technically pups, I think.”

“Wren, puppies chew on things.”

“Hmm, yeah?” She twisted on her heel, finally facing Veronica with a curious look on her face.

Veronica gave a light scoff. “I’m pretty sure there are some things in there that they’re gonna chew on. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think John is gonna like that too much.”

Wren tensed, a crease forming in her brow as Ronnie’s words processed. Veronica bit her lip to try and hold back her laughter. She couldn’t believe it. Wren clicked her tongue, glaring at the ground with a sour look on her face, making Veronica lose it.

“Oh my fucking god! Of all the times you gave me shit for not thinking things through—”

“Shut up, Ronnie!”

The blonde doubled over, her arms wrapping around her abdomen as tears formed. “Oh, John is going to be so pissed! I can’t believe you didn’t even consider that!”

“Hey, it’s not like he isn’t rich enough to replace the furniture!” Wren insisted, throwing her hands in the air. “He can just buy more! And it’s not like he’s going to know who did it. Right?”

Veronica stood straight, wiping away her tears. “The man is a lawyer, Wren. I don’t think he’s stupid. No one else would dare do this shit.” She shook her head.

Wren huffed. “Well, he ain’t got proof. I was told to leave the trailer here so they could transport them back to the Center.”

They decided to leave it on the other side of John’s hangar, out of sight to not immediately tip him off. Veronica helped Wren unlatch the trailer, both working up a sweat from the summer heat. It was starting to get dark, but the humidity was still hanging heavy around them. Veronica sighed, hopping up on some black crates.

“I need a cigarette.” She groaned as she pulled the pack out of her vest pocket, putting one in her mouth as she lit it.

Wren opened the back of the jeep, grabbing a couple of beers and using her shirt to pop the tops. “I hear that. Have a beer, too.”

Veronica grabbed it, saying thank you as Wren leaned against the crates. Ronnie took a quick swig then sat it down beside her. Wren checked her phone again making Veronica roll her eyes. “Checking to see if you got any sexy texts?”

“Not likely.” Wren muttered, but Ronnie could see the light blush on her face.

“How’s Game of Thrones going? Did you get to the part where—”

Wren’s blue green eyes snapped to Ronnie’s blue ones, piercing her with a glare. “Don’t you dare ruin that for me, Veronica Rook, so help me god.”

She only laughed in response, taking a pull from her cancer stick. “I won’t ruin it, I promise. But hurry up, I wanna talk about it with you!”

“Tsk, I’ll get around to it eventually.”

“Which means you’ll finish it in a year.”

They both laughed and it stayed that way for a little while. Ronnie did know why they were just hanging around; she was starting to get antsy. John could come home any moment, and as fun as it would be to see his reaction, Ronnie didn’t wanna be the receiving end of that man’s rage. Pointing that out to Wren, she checked her phone, and agreed that it was time to go. Hoping in the driver’s seat, Wren sent a quick text, probably an update to the people at F.A.N.G Center, before they were on their way.

Pulling off to park, Ronnie eyed the bar suspiciously. There were more cars here than when they left, but it was strangely quiet. Never had she seen something like this, and she was about to voice her concern to Wren, but she was already out of the jeep and shutting her door. If Wren wasn’t concerned, it was fine.

Right?

Veronica wasn’t so sure, and she suddenly missed her service pistol. She both chose not to carry since they were going to the bar to celebrate. At the time, it made a lot of sense. But now? Not so much. Her heart was pounding, not sure of what to expect, so she had no issue going in first when Wren motioned for her to. She was ready for anything.

Well, almost anything.

What she wasn’t expecting was the bar being so full of people, or for those people to hope up from hiding. From behind the bar, out of the kitchen, and even behind the chairs.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Someone, somewhere, had a confetti gun and made it rain in rainbow paper. Veronica eyed the green and pink birthday banner that was definitely homemade. Her hands found her mouth, covering it as tears swelled, pure happiness taking over completely as Wren threw her arm around her shoulders.

Everyone was there. Adelaide stood with Mary May, Evie with Joey hugging her from behind, Rey waving with Sharky and Hurk jr, and even Rheese had been able to make it as she stood with the Rye’s and Grace. It was overwhelming, and she was passed around, greeted and hugged. Veronica was smiling so much, her face was starting to get sore, and she was sure her makeup was done for with all the crying. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.

To say she had a blast, was an understatement of the century. A game of darts with Rey that ended up proving Veronica had terrible aim while drinking, but neither of them cared. It only roped her into a drinking contest with Rheese, the blonde bound and determined to beat her this time. Rey and Wren placed their bets as Evie took her job as referee seriously. It got to the point where they had just started chugging with their friends chanting and cheering them on. Rheese placed her arms around her, pulling her close in a tight hug.

“IT’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY!!!”

It got Wren and Evie rowdy, and one thing led to another, resulting in a karaoke battle. Wren dragged her with her, Evie following with Hudson in tow.

They all agreed to one song. But one turned to three, and eventually, they had lost count. All that mattered was that Sharky was singing along in the audience as Hurk jr waved a lighter in the air. When they were fully out of breath and sweaty, they stopped, asking which team had won. Sharky just shrugged.

“I just thought y’all were havin’ fun, didn’t know I was s’pose to be judgin’.”

They just laughed, stumbling away from the karaoke machine giving their friends high fives as they went. It was then Veronica’s mom came out of the kitchen, her and Ronnie’s friends leading the entire bar in singing Happy Birthday. The cake was bigger than Ronnie was used to having, two tiered and the icing matching the banner.

“Make a wish!” Rey called with a wide smile once the singing died down. Veronica giggled, racking her brain for something to wish for, but for once, she couldn’t think of anything. She had everything she wanted right here…well, almost everything.

With the thought of pretty green eyes, Veronica blew out the candles, everyone clapping and cheering. It was Mary May who cut the cake, helping Ronnie’s mom pass out slices to everyone. The group of friends finding a table for themselves. Wren leaning back, resting a leg on Ronnie’s chair, and Ronnie doing the same. Evie plopped herself down on Joey’s lap while Rey pulled her knee up, her arm holding it close as she took a bite. Rheese, dragged a chair loudly across the floor, making a few people stare as she swung it around and straddled it. Evie winked at her, running a finger in the icing of her cake.

“Hey babe, watch this.” Evie teased before smearing it over the side of Joey’s face. Wren snorted before taking a bite, and Joey eyed Evie mischievously. Grabbing the icing flower on her cake, Joey moved to smash it on Evie, but the blonde shifted, moving out of the way last minute.

Rey, however, wasn’t so lucky.

The flower smacked Rey in the chest, sliding down. She carefully grabbed it, eyeing Hudson as she set her foot back on the ground. Moving forward, she took a chunk of her cake before throwing it back. The alcohol, unfortunately, affected Rey’s aim, making it Rheese in the face. The table grew quiet, but Wren cackled, laughing loudly and Rheese fixed her glare on her.

A smirk made its way across her face as she grabbed the whole cake, flinging it at Wren. She squealed when the cake hit it’s mark against her own face. “Motherfu—”

The table erupted, cake and frosting painting the table and floor. Ronnie ducked, pushing away from the table in hopes to escape as Wren smashed her piece in Rey’s hair, but she wasn’t so lucky. Rheese grabbed Veronica’s plate and smashed it against her face. She could taste the icing and she was almost certain some of it made it in her nose.

“Guys! Seriously?!” Mary May called, her hands on her hips as she assessed the damage.

“And that’s my que.” Rey said with a laugh. “I’ll catch you later, dears. Don’t have too much fun.”

They hugged before Rey made her exit, waving as she walked out. Wren called back, promising to clean up when everything was done. Fairgrave gave her a look before shaking her head and returning back to the bar. They erupted in laughter, ordering another round of drinks.

Slowly, things began to die down, Evie and Joey announcing their departure, leaving hand in hand. Rheese stayed for a bit longer before she, too, called it a night. She gave quick hugs, wishing another loud happy birthday that made Veronica blush. Wren and Veronica sat in comfortable silence a little longer before Ronnie felt a gentle touch against her shoulder, and looking, she found the familiar green eyes and bright smile.

“Hey.” Ronnie said, her voice just a bit shaky.

“I heard it was your birthday.” Faith replied, her soft voice almost drowned out by the music still playing. “Wren mentioned that you were having a party.” Ronnie whipped around to throw a look at Wren, but she was taking another drink and looking innocent as the bottle hid her smirk. She smiled, turning back to Faith as her heart pounded.

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a surprise. I’m sorry that I didn’t get a chance to say hi earlier.”

Faith just laughed. “No worries! You were having fun with your friends. Unfortunately, my brothers couldn’t join. Joseph had some counseling to do with some troubled followers and Jacob isn’t exactly the social type. And John, well…” Faith glanced at Wren briefly. “He’s a bit busy dog sitting, I heard.”

Wren barked out a laugh and Ronnie couldn’t fight the smile on her face. “You heard about that?”

“I’ve heard a few things.” Faith replied with a twinkle in her eye. Leaning forward, she placed a kiss against Veronica’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Veronica.” She whispered in her ear. Ronnie couldn’t bring herself to say anything as Faith walked away. She touched her cheek, still feeling the warmth of Faith’s lips still burning against her skin. Guess her birthday wish came true after all.

“So?” Wren asked, looking at Veronica. “Good day?”

Before Veronica could answer, the bar door flew open. John Seed, muddy and disheveled, stood in the entryway. “Blake!”

Wren’s eyes widened as she paled, and Veronica howled. “The best!”

#deputy veronica rook #deputy wren blake #deputy rhiannon rey jackson #deputy rheese anne bennett #evelyn mcdaniel #happy birthday to paige #far cry 5

[noreasonreally]

.

i don’t know. i don’t know why i keep avoiding writing. i want to work on this story bc it’s fun and cool and a way to bond with my aunt who lives far away. but i probably need to write more about how i’m feeling. and journaling takes a long time by hand. and this is a good place for venting personal shit. idk. we’ll see.

i want to write about the feelings in this story but i may have delved too deep into my own psyche. my own sore spots. 

i had an anxiety attack a couple nights ago. i keep having nightmares. part of me blames re-watching stranger things but i also watched parks n rec before i went to bed and also i had nightmares before re-watching stranger things. so that theory’s debunked.

i told my brother about the Big Trauma and he said he was sorry and that it explained a lot and on one hand what a relief! on the other hand he made it sound like that’s the reason i cut our father out of my life and that’s Not The Reason. i told him he didnt need to worry about changing his behavior right now bc he’s got a lot on his plate and just... whatever dude, he doesn’t need to. i didn’t tell him bc i wanted him to change.

i mean it would be nice if he were angry.

but i didn’t expect him to be.

and for all i know, he took this information to my dad and was convinced i’m full of shit. 

the thing is i’ll never know. i have no idea what he thinks or feels, ever. i hope that when our father and grandfather die, he’ll open up. i don’t know if it’ll be too late by then. 

and trust me, i’ve tried to “save” him. 

no one wants to be “saved” against their will.

so i just watch. i take the peace offerings. i hope playing video games and drinking like 3 alcoholic beverages and old movie quotes will give us some sense of connection. i got drunk and spilled my guts and he hugged me and i want something more but i know he can’t give me anything more. 

and then two nights ago he comes home - one of the brief intermissions from his 3 jobs, separation from his wife, new girlfriend, and taking care of our demented grandfather who molested me when i was too young to know it was bad - one of the brief moments where i see him for half an hour, an hour tops - and he immediately says “i’m going to sit uncomfortably close to my sister!” thinking he’s funny. and he does. and i calmly say i’m changing seats and he “apologizes for making me move, because he was kidding,” and i want to believe he’s silly, and i want to believe he’s kidding, and i want so badly to believe that my brother heard me, and respects me, and knows how it feels to be powerless.

i want to believe that he knows that. i want to believe that deep down, he has some intuition and it’s just buried under the fucking bonkers notions from my toxic paternal family members. 

but i go to bed early and have an anxiety attack. 

because pinning me to the side of the couch for shits and giggles after i tell you some intense shit, is not cute or funny. you never did that shit before. it doesn’t just go away.

i want to blow up at him, i want to scream, i want to feel like i’m not powerless anymore. i want to force him to see me for who i am, for what i truly feel, for what i’ve truly been through, because it’s real and valid and it’s fucking painful.

and i know being triggered means my reactions might be out of line. so i’m careful with what i say. i’m thoughtful. i don’t want to pin twenty-odd years of resentment and pain on the idiot who doesn’t even know what he’s putting himself through. 

but it also feels like i just got another kick in the head over something that was never my fault. 

another reason to say “oh poor old dad” and write me off. 

i know there’s a big grey area between the worst: expecting him to involve my father in my trauma - and the best: him saying he also denounces the paternal side of our family. i know that “i’m sorry that happened, that explains a lot” is a pretty good reaction, all things considered.

i guess it’s just hard to realize that nothing will ever be enough to erase it from happening. of course i knew this in my head. but i definitely thought i would have... some kind of epiphany after telling my brother.

if i never told him, i could still hold onto the fantasy of him responding with “that’s horrible! i’m never seeing any of them again unless you want to go yell at them for being awful.”

the reality of “thanks for saying i don’t have to change anything about what i’m doing” isn’t as heroic. or comforting. 

so i watch. we play video games and trade places on the couch and drink beer sometimes. i visit with my nieces and teach them how to scold the dog for being too rough and build towers with them and their dad. it doesn’t hurt to see other men being good dads anymore. 

and before anyone asks, yeah, my soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law has already banned him from taking their girls to visit our father or grandfather. 

man.

how does anyone do this? i don’t feel “broken,” or “unlovable” - i have pretty much everything i need to feel safe and happy, frankly. i’m in a pretty good place and i do my best to help others get to a good place, too.

but that doesn’t mean the trauma isn’t there. it doesn’t mean my ptsd is magically gone. my anxiety attacks and nightmares still hang out. i still woke up screaming “you don’t own him” this morning. 

i want to connect the dots and figure out what the big picture is - how to make it “good trauma,” like diane in bojack horseman, and do something so that i’m a success and i can point to my trauma and say “nana-nana boo boo, i’m gonna make other people’s lives better,” and then poof! it’ll be solved and i won’t feel bad anymore and i’ll sleep like a totally normal individual.

what’s really happening is that i’m excited if i can keep myself present for two seconds. 

and ultimately i don’t want any of this shit to go away. i work hard not to make it the focus of all my energy, but at the same time, i’m glad i know how to do that. because i know how to pay attention to myself and care about myself and fill my cup, so to speak, so i’m not in a constant state of needing validation like i used to be. and i know how to give genuine words of affection. i’m still working on a lot of things but i’m glad i generally know how to work on ‘em.

and if more fucked up shit happens i’ll work on that too. 

i’m okay. no matter what my brother says, or doesn’t say, no matter how many anxiety attacks i have, no matter how many walls i have to break down to become the person i want to be and know i will be, i know i can do it. i do have power over my life. i do think i’m worth the effort. i’m conflicted by a lot of things but that’s ok. i can be all the things. 

#god have mercy this is too many words #personal #oh fuck uh trigger warning #trigger warning #tw #if u have ever seen a gun don't read this (bad joke about triggers just don tlook at me)

[inactiive-shit]

When The Violence Causes Silence

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Warnings: apocalypse, zombies, fighting zombies

Pairing: platonic Moxiety

Words: 2,900

Summary: Virgil has to train the New Recruits.

And he is just ecstatic about it. /s

I’ve been trying to finish anything recently because I am working on a thirteen chapter story and I just need something to be finished to feel like a successful person. So I wrote this. Happy Hunting.

They were on a mission. In full honesty, it wasn’t even a particularly hard mission. They were just going to go into the nearby town for food and supplies, and avoid the reanimated corpses while they were at it. The town had mostly been wiped out of zombies already, which was why it was a great training ground for new recruits.

Virgil, on the other hand, was not a new recruit. No, he was the lucky member of his mid-apocalypse society that was chosen to show the new recruits the ropes.

Fortunately, he wasn't alone. Talyn was chosen to help him, though they didn't get his annoyance with the situation at all. Somehow, they thought teaching the scared people who should know better by now was fun. Then again, Talyn thought puke was fun. Maybe their ideas of what constituted enjoyable were a little fucked up.

But whose weren’t, nowadays?

Anyway, the point remained: Virgil hated this work. He hated doing it, he wasn’t good at it, talking to people and showing them how to do things they should rightfully already know was absolutely not something he could force himself to do with any degree of effectiveness. But they made him, because newbies didn’t die on his watch. What he did could not be classified as teaching; it was coddling and everybody pretended it was a good thing because nobody wanted to be on training duty and Virgil was new enough that he wasn’t allowed to complain too much.

So Virgil sat brooding in the passenger seat of the jeep with the three new recruits in the back and Talyn driving. They were going about a hundred feet back from the edge of the forest and then they’d walk the rest of the way into town, fill their packs, and head back out. It was a nice, easy little introductory trip that let them get used to moving with packs, using their brains to decide what was a need versus what was a want, got them used to seeing zombies, and, most importantly, how to take down a zombie in real time.

Talyn threw the car into park. Somebody whimpered. Virgil tried not to groan.

“C’mon, get your bags and stay quiet,” Virgil ordered. He climbed out of the car and didn’t wait for them to set off for the city. They scrambled after them, and Talyn shushed them before turning to Virgil.

“You think any of ‘em are going to die?” they asked. Virgil snorted.

“That’d ruin my record,” Virgil said back. It was Talyn’s turn to huff a laugh in that silent way you did when in a forest that there could be zombies wondering through. Virgil grinned at them, and Talyn smiled too. It was warm enough out today and there was plenty of sun. Not the best for going unseen, but it felt amazing on Virgil’s skin and it was way better than being cold.

“So, uhm, where are we going?” asked one of the newbies. Virgil shot Talyn a look. They rolled their eyes.

“The town.”

“Are we going to be...ya know? Killing things?” the man asked. He was walking close enough to be stepping on the backs of Virgil’s shoes. They were about to get their first real-time lesson early, and it was going to be about personal space.

“I don’t know,” Virgil hummed. “Are you holding a knife?”

“I-yes?” the guy stammered.

“I wonder why on earth that would be,” Virgil said. He chanced a glance back. The one speaking was eyeing the forest around him like they were going to be swallowed up any minute. The woman was walking cavalierly like she didn’t have a care in the world, knife in her hand and swinging by her side in a way that tickled Virgil’s anxiety. The third man was hunched in on himself, eyes darting around the trees at every noise, knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto his own hands.

Weird. He’d done pretty damn good in training. Wonder what he was so worked up about.

“Oh, well-” the first man started, but the woman cut him off.

“We only kill them if we see them. We’re not looking for them,” the woman said. “That’s what you said, right Tal?”

“My name is Talyn,” Talyn replied, and Virgil knew they were going to have fun with this batch. Conflicting personalities and all. “And yes, if you listened you would know that we’re only here for supplies and some controlled-environment action, should any show up.” The group slipped through the fence and crept up behind the first building. Talyn sent a chilling grin over their shoulder at the newbies. “Word of advice: don’t get bit.” That garnered another whimper, and Virgil sighed through his nose. This was going to be a long day.

They went through a quick round of rock-paper-scissors, which Talyn lost. “Damn. Alright, you two with me. We’re on a food run.”

“We’re splitting up?” squeaked the one Virgil was taking; it was the man who hadn’t spoken at all to this point. Virgil repressed another sign of his exhaustion and nodded.

“They’re on food, we’re on meds. Trust me, we’re better off,” Virgil said. “You know how to make a lot of noise?” He nodded, eyes wide. “Good. Don’t do that and we should be fine.” Virgil spun around, surveyed the empty streets, and then set off. The newbie kept almost on top of Virgil, obviously terrified despite his proficiency. Virgil waved him back, and he only stayed back for a few yards before getting close enough Virgil couldn’t breathe without bumping him again.

“Dude, back up,” Virgil snapped, glaring. “You’re fine. Stop acting like a fucking toddler and get your shit together.”

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I just-I don’t-”

“I don’t care about your sob story,” Virgil cut in, sighing again. “We all have one, and I guarantee I’ve heard it before. Right now, you need to focus. Don’t think about what’s already happened to you or all the bad things that might right now. You are getting supplies for a community that is depending on you with a partner who is very good at he does. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been around the zombies, you were out here for a long time before you came to us. You’ve lived this already, you’ll be fine right now. Okay?” The man seemed sorry-confused-embarrassed, but nodded nonetheless and then Virgil continued on. He lead them right up to the pharmacy with no other problems, and he carefully showed the man where to step so that he wouldn’t crunch the broken glass littering the floors and alert every dog-eared dead thing in the town.

“Alright, look,” Virgil said quietly. “Do you see how most of the shelves are empty? That’s because we hid a lot of the meds. It’s so that they’re not all in one place and if we’re sacked or over-run or whatever there will still be some for emergencies. Got it?” The man nodded. Virgil stared him in the eyes for a moment, examining his broken glasses and freckles, the deep brown eyes that...didn’t seem scared. Something else, maybe. Like hesitant or reluctant, but not afraid.

Stranger and stranger.

Virgil looked away. “For now, you’re just going to empty all of this section into your bag.” Virgil pulled open a few sets of cabinet doors hiding a treasure trove of bottles.

“Yeah kiddo, alright,” the man said quietly. Virgil wondered how old he was; if he was any older than Virgil himself or younger. It’s hard to tell, everyone so dirty and tanned and wrinkled and gray-haired well before old age. Anway, age didn’t really matter at the end of the day. What mattered was what you had been through, what had aged you whether or not you had the years to match, and Virgil knew for a fact that this man could not hold a candle to what Virgil had been through already.

He didn’t say that. Instead, he sighed again and started to shove droves of pill bottles into his pack.

The man made quick work of the pill bottles, and he moved astonishingly quietly. They barely even clacked as he dropped them in. Virgil wondered if this had been his primary job with whatever group he’d been with before. Getting in, getting supplies, and getting out quickly and quietly enough that no fighting had to be done. Virgil wondered what had happened to his old group that he had shown up alone in the middle of the night, half dead and being followed by a dozen zombies. 

Either way, it didn’t matter. It didn’t do to ask questions about where people had been or who they’d been with or what they’d done. It really was all just one communal sob story, varying a little from one person to the next. Virgil had his own leg of the journey stored away in a locked box; he didn’t need anybody else’s.

Getting all the supplies they needed only took a few minutes, and then Virgil was showing him again where to step. They made back onto the street without incident, and Virgil began to lead the way back at a leisurely pace. There was no way Talyn’s group would be done with the grocery run yet, and even if they were, Virgil wanted all the time away from those two as he could get. They were both so loud and talked so much it made Virgil want to scream. After living so long in silence, loud was hard to adjust to.

The shuffle of feet echoed around a corner a few yards behind them, and Virgil spun around. Perfect. A fucking zombie.

The newbie let out a short, trilling scream and pinwheeled to get behind Virgil. “Let’s go, let’s go. We need to run. We have to go, please. Please, we need to go.” The man wrapped one hand in the strap of Virgil’s bag and started to tug, trying to force him to move. Virgil planted his feet wondered how long it would take before the man gave up and left without him.

“Nah,” Virgil said. He motioned. “That one’s yours.”

“What? No.” The man shook his head wildly. “No no no. I can’t. I can’t do this, I’m not-I’m not made for this, please, we need to leave.”

“We will,” Virgil said. “Just as soon as you kill it.” He reached over and unsheathed the knife at the man’s side and pressed it into his shaking hand. “You know how to hold a knife, and how to dispatch a rotter. I’ve seen you in practice. This is your next piece of practice. Go do it.” Virgil dragged the man to stand slightly in front of him.

“No, no. I can’t. I can’t do it.” The man frantically pushed back against Virgil, but as much as he tried he still had nothing on Virgil’s strength.

“Why can’t you?” Virgil asked.

“I’m scared,” the new recruit whimpered.

Virgil, who had been scared most of his life, said, “We’re all scared. Be angrier than that. Be spiteful. Be compassionate. And do it anyway.”

“Compassionate?” the man whispered.

“They're suffering. If you're too afraid to do it for yourself, put them out of their misery. Bring food back to the kids. Find a reason that’s bigger than your fear and go.” Virgil shoved the man harshly at the zombie. He froze for a second, then brought his knife up in precisely the way he had been taught - he was surprisingly good in practice, caught on quicker than most, but moved with a certain stiffness and fear that they needed to work out of him before he was being depended on for protection - and slashed at it. The swing wasn’t perfect - most things weren’t - and it didn’t completely decapitate the zombie.

Three more rounded the corner.

“Shit.” Virgil ran up to the combat-engaged newbie. “You just worry about this one. Make it stay down.” He continued past him, drawing his own knife. His first hit drove the blade right into the temple of the first zombie to reach him. It went down like a ton of bricks, but the knife caught in its skull. Virgil released it and drew his second knife. Either he’d win and have to time get that weapon back after, or he wouldn’t be needing it anymore. It could wait for him.

The second zombie he kicked in the stomach. It staggered back and then crashed down to lie with the first. Not dead-dead yet, but out of the way for the moment so it wasn’t two-on-one. Virgil brought his knife up and, in a much better rendition of the same move the other man had attempted, slashed through the neck and spinal cord in one. The zombie fell. Virgil dropped to his knee near the last creature and jammed his knife through this one’s forehead. The knife hit concrete on the other side, and Virgil yanked it back out. He wiped the brain matter on the dead thing’s rags, and then man-handled the other knife out of the head of the other zombie. He wiped that one on the same rags and turned around to see whether or not the newbie had lived through his induction.

The man was standing, staring at Virgil with those wide, disbelieving eyes. He looked sick, and there was something on the ground next to him that could definitely have been puke. Virgil stalked over and poked at the zombie the man had killed with his boot.

“Good job, uh,” Virgil said. 

“Patton,” the man supplied, still shaking.

“Good job, Patton,” he reiterated. “You did it once, despite not wanting to. Now ya just have to do it again.” Virgil turned and began walking away. Patton looked almost dead himself when he got to Virgil’s side.

“Does it ever get easier?” he asked, and Virgil was struck with the urge to play dumb and pretend he didn’t know what Patton was asking about. Or to lie, and tell him what he probably wanted to hear - what Virgil wanted to be the truth.

Instead, he sighed. “For some people. For some people it gets easier, for some people it was never hard to begin with. But-but for people like you? I doubt it.” Patton let out a breath.

“Good. I don’t want taking life to be easy. Even if they’re already dead.” Virgil stumbled slightly at the words, turned to look wide eyed at Patton, but he seemed to not realize what he’d said at all. He kept shuffling along quietly, gray in the face and eyes scanning their surroundings quickly enough Virgil doubted he was seeing anything that was actually there.

He wondered what Patton was seeing.

Virgil shook himself out and grumbled, “I’ll make sure they don’t put you hunting duty, then.” It startled a laugh out of Patton, who then clapped a hand over his mouth and gave Virgil a sheepish look.

“Sorry. You just-you caught me by surprise there, kiddo.” He smiled, looking actually kind of genuine. Virgil didn’t return it.

“Yeah, well, get used to it. There’s plenty enough surprises out here.” Virgil sped up slightly so that Patton was following him instead of walking even with him, and they made the rest of their trek in silence.

Talyn was back at the jeep with the other two already, leaning back, doing a poor job of concealing their worry. Virgil waved a hand and they jumped up, watching closely as they approached.

“What took you so long? I thought we were going to have to send out the search party.” They raised an eyebrow - something they did roughly as often as Virgil sighed.

Virgil sighed. “We ran into a little trouble.” He stole a glance at Patton, and decided Patton probably wouldn’t want anybody to know that he’d killed anything. It wasn’t going to be a point of pride for him like it was for some. “We handled it, though. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Did you kill one?” demanded the woman, eyes locked on Patton. “No, I bet you didn’t. He said ‘we’, so you probably didn’t help at all.”

“He was very helpful,” Virgil said.

“Unlike you,” Talyn added, sending a terrifying look at the pair. “They almost got us killed. Not once, not twice, but four times.”

“Wow,” Virgil said, deadpan. “I think that might be a new record.”

“People can always get stupider.” Talyn sighed, rubbing at their arm.

“I wouldn’t feel too bad about it, kiddo,” Patton said. “I cried when the zombie came up.” The woman and man looked oddly relieved at this information, and Virgil looked at Patton.

“Maybe we should all practice together,” the man suggested. “You know, so we’re all better next time.” Virgil made eye contact with Talyn. They shook their head. Virgil had absolutely no idea what was going on right now. He sighed.

“Get in the car. We’re heading back before something else shows up and somebody does die.” He climbed into the passenger seat, bag settled between his feet, and stared out the window. Yeah, what Virgil did? It wasn’t teaching. It was coddling and everybody knew it. He didn’t know why they had to send him out on these missions. He wasn’t any good at it.

In the backseat, Patton started to hum.

#sanders sides #ts virgil sanders #ts patton sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #ts virgil #ts patton #ts anxiety #ts morality #moxiety #platonic moxiety #when the violence causes silence #fanfic #my writing #my fanfiction #ts fanfictin #ts fanfic

[dcusrclicta]

Character Bios

Parenthesis means they have a Harry Potter AU verse 

Name: Severus Tobias Snape Year: Cute. House: Slytherin Blood Status: Befouler Antichrist Eye colour: Cobalt nowadays Age: Old enough to say no. Birthdate: 1/9 Height: 6′7 Patronus: Horned Viper Description: I still hate my job. I still hate people. I’m just immortal now. Please leave my office & don’t touch anything on your way out.

Name: Brittnay Matthews Year: College Junior (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 21 Birthdate:  6/15 Height: 5′5 (Patronus: Pitbull) Description: Cross me & I’ll hurt you. Otherwise I’m Brittnay Matthews you’re new best friend. People think I’m arrogant but in reality they’re angry I’m better than them. I used to go to Overland Park high school. I’m glad I don’t anymore.

Name: Rhaegar Daeron Targaryen (Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Violet Age: 34 Nameday: All I remember was being born in the high summer Height: 7’1 (Patronus: Hungarian Horntail) Description: I’m believed to be dead. Walking about when one is believed to be dead is actually quite boring no matter how much it may benefit the Realm. I do admit I made. Many mistakes however in my defence not all prophecies are interpreted in a straight forward manner. I did better than any of you would have in the situation so save your criticism for until you watch a man identical to you get his chest caved in by a war hammer.

Name: Lilith “Lily” Sophie Evans Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon/Witch Eye colour: Green/Blue/ Sometimes they go crimson. Age: Doesn’t matter. I won’t die. Birthdate: 1/30 Height: 5’3 Patronus: Bold of you to assume I have one  Description: My sister was right. I’m a freak. Even my parents saw something... Wrong in me when I was younger. They tried to pretend I was fine. ”Just a few odd occurrences here & there.” Until an older boy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself suddenly found that a hand could very easily be turned inside out. In the long run it was a good result. They found quite a bit of child pornography in his little hovel of a bedroom. My parents knew I did it but couldn’t quite figure out how until the Hogwarts letter came. They were both horrified & relieved. But to make a long story short. Once I met Severus Snape & we put our interest in the Dark Arts together... I got WORSE. & it felt good. I became addicted to the draw of dark magic, occult magic in particular & now Tom Riddle wants me to tell him what I said to Lucifer to get this new body. I might tell him if he begs in the right tone.

Name: Brahms Hillshire Blood Status: Half-demon Eye colour: Green Age: 16 Birthdate: Don’t care Height: 5′11 Description: I’m a child serial killer. I want to play around in your innards. & blood. I want to play around in your blood too.

Name: “Andrew” Antisepticeye McLoughlin Blood Status: Computer Virus Entity/Demon Eye colour: Lime Green Age: 29 (Existing for 3) Birthdate: 10/10 Height: N/A Description: It’s better if ya dun run. It’ll just drag et out. Plus sometimes ya lot chip my knife on one of yer stupid bones. & I dun really li’e runnin much ta be honest.

Name: Chase Brody Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Blue Age: 29 Birthdate: 4/11 Height: 5′10 Description: Hey bros! I’m Chase! Uh, some of ya already know tha! Anti brought me here! He said it’d be fun an’ I trus’ ‘im! I swear ‘e’s actually always been kinda nice ta me! Besides the ‘ole threatenin’ the kids thin’ but we’re frien’s now! He says he’ll teach me how ta shoot a real gun someday!

Name: Brian Griffin Blood Status: Dog(?) Eye colour: Green Age: ??? Birthdate: ??? Height: 6′4 Description: I used to be an alcoholic dog. Now I’m an alcoholic. Not much to say after something like that happens. I’m really confused to be frank. Maybe now I can actually get someone to take me seriously & publish my book.

Name: Carlos De Vil (Year: Sixth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Half-demon/ Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 16 Birthdate: 3/20 Height: 5′7 (Patronus: Red Fox) Description: Hi, I’m Carlos & life is pain, only valid things in this world are only science & Evie Grimhilde, bye. Gemini De Vil is my midget brother who I love. Devil De Vil is my crazy ass dad. My mom is dead, thanks for asking.

Name: Danny Flint Blood Status: Shade Eye colour: Grey Age: Old Nameday: ? Height: 5′4 Description: Being dead was less droll.  

Name: Eileen Tabitha Prince Snape Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Pureblood Poltergeist Eye colour: Black Age: Well. I died at 35 so let’s go with that Birthdate: 12/18 Height: 6’11  (Used to be 6'6 but I had this weird growth spurt two days before I died.) Patronus: Didn’t have one apparently

Description: … I really don’t have anything to say to you. I died, I decided I wanted to come back. Er. Awkwardly enough the old castle I was haunting is now inhabited by my son and his family. They’re all really bloody loud. No wonder the rest of the ghosts make so much noise back. And no. I have not introduced myself to any of them. I mean. Sometimes I talk to ‘em but I’ve never gotten an answer. Plus unlike most of the floating assholes here I’d much rather keep to myself, thank you.

Name: Griffin “Finn” Merterns Blood Status: Human(?) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: 3/14 Height: 6′3 Description: Hey bros! I’m Finn, a radical kid that makes it his business to help people out and kickin’ monster tail! Mostly when I’m not doin’ that I’m chillin’ it up with my bro Jake in the tree house so as long as you’re not some wacko monster that wants to eat up my face you can swing by and we can fire up BMO or something.

Name: Henry Harry Jameson Hook (Year: Slytherin) (House: Seventh) Blood Status: Half-demon/Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 10/23 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Savannah cat) Description: All it takes is one wrong look & I’ll EVISCERATE ya... Taken by Uma daughter of Ursula. Ya want me? Ya have ta ask her permission & pray she likes ya & is in a SHARIN’ mood. Jamie Hook is me mum an’ she taugh’ me all I know about bein’ scary. Me da??? He’s a dumbass.

Name: Karl Vreski (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 (Typically) Birthdate: 10/25 Height: 6′1 (Patronus: Jackal)

Description: I’m Karl. Lacrosse. Tacos. Boxing. American football. Whatever activity that involves either Hans Gruber or hitting something? I like it. Tony’s alright. Good brother at least. Not at all annoying like the normal younger sibling M.O. Far nicer than me. I’ll likely end up being a lawyer same as my father. Boring but Hans and I are already working at the damn firm so it’s an easy job. I’m sure Hans’ll come up with a more fun idea. He always does.

Name: Tony Vreski (House: Hufflepuff) (Year: Seventh) Blood Status: Poltergeist (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 (Typically) Birthdate: 9/3 Height: 5′10 (Patronus: Rooster)

Description: I’m Tony… I uh. I play some football. Real football not American. I’m Karl’s younger brother and… To be honest Hans scares me a little bit even if we’re all like brothers… Uh more often than not I just go along with their crazy plans because. Well because my brother says it’ll be fun. And. It usually is. Even if some of it’s a little illegal.

Name: Loki Friggason (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: God of Mischief & Chaos Eye colour: Green Age: Don’t be rude. Birthdate: Mind your business Height: 6′0 (Patronus: Corn snake) Description: I am Loki of Asgard. & I’m so fucking tired of all the gards.

Name: Beverly Marsh Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/26 Height: 5′3

Description: I’m Bev. Looked into that stupid clown’s deadlights & lived. I’ll be a loser to the end & I’m honestly real proud of that. Losers have no where to go but up, after all.

Name: Marceline Abadeer Blood Status: Vampire Demon Eye colour: Green Age: 1003, Approximately Birthdate: Unknown Height: 5′9 (Various) Description: Marceline the Vampire Queen, dude. Sure you’ve heard of me before so I wouldn’t be surprised to see you shaking in your boots right about now. Been traveling and terrorising the Land of Ooo for a while now though it’s nothing too irreversible. Mostly I’m just a radical dame that likes to play games as a very special someone once said about me.

Name: Nathan Clarke (Year: I died in seventh) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: (Verse dependent) Poltergeist (Half-blood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 8/13 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Some squiggly thing I dunno) Description: Hi I’m Nathan & I wanna die... Haha gottem!

Name: Richmond Richie Wentworth Tozier Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Caribbean Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/10 Height: 5′10  Description: I’m only afraid of werewolves & girls with eyes that are hard to not get lost in.

Name: Robyn Black Robin Blood Status: Poltergeist Eye colour: Hazel Age: Hm Nameday: Some far off winter Height: 6′5 Description:  “The Gods above all knew his crimes The lord read off his lists The Gods above all knew his crimes The men's hands balled to fists His legs they kicked, they jerked, then slowed The crowd not once did cheer His legs they slowed, then finally stopped The crowd not once did jeer”

Name: Sadie O’Connell Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: I don’t remember Height: 5′6 Description: I tried to kill myself over a boy who didn’t love me back. Someone brought me back & now here I am, I guess.

Name: Scorpio Felix Sepelio Tobias Exodus Snape Blood Status: Vampire Eye colour: One is jade one is cobalt and they swap sides frequently Age: 91 Died at 36 and it’s been a while. You do the math, mate. Birthdate: 11/10 Height: 5’3

Description: Surprise bitches. I bet you all thought I was dead…In a matter of speaking that’s still accurate. The greasy little snot did indeed best me when I was human. I respect that victory &even though I miss them.. My children don’t need me. I wasn’t good to them when they did. I doubt they’re aware I came back and I’ll keep it that way for all our sakes. There’s no point in asking me how exactly I returned to life. I don’t know and I don’t particularly care. Maybe Hell just can’t handle me yet.

Name: Thomas Marvolo Riddle Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon Fledging Eye colour: Blue Age: Rude. Birthdate: 12/31 Height: 6′4 Patronus: Hmmm, my little secret. Description: Join my cult. Satanism is actually very beneficial if you’re respectful. No. You don’t have to slit your wrist to join... Please. Stop slitting your wrists to join.

Name: King Aerys Targaryen Second of His Name King of the Andals & the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms & Protector of the Realm (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human Mine is the blood of Old Valyria (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: Hm. Nameday: High summer.  Height: 6′8 (Patronus: Gila Monster) Description: Burn them all.

Name: Ser Jaime Lannister (Year: Graduated) (House: Hufflepuff) Blood Status: Shade (Pureblood) Eye colour: Green Age: I’m dead. Sorry. Nameday: Does it matter? Height: 5′6 (Patronus: Munchkin Cat) Description: I stayed loyal to the Targaryens & they won. But I died when Robert Baratheon caved in Rhaegar’s chest... At least I got to watch him die for it.

Name: Daenerys Visenya Targaryen (Year: Fifth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: 15 Nameday: During a violent storm Height: 4′9 (Patronus: Blue-tongued Skink) Description: My family’s way is fire & blood... But my heart sings a softer song... & I don’t know which way is right.

#x: Words From His Mouth (Headcanon) #x: Well Then Write! (Character Bio) #c: All #((AHHHHHHH I FINISHED THEM))

[virginiacreepervine]

A body washed up on Bell Isle this morning. Average height, average build. White guy with pierced ears, a few tattoos, shoulder length hair. Wouldn’t stand out in a Richmond crowd. Calloused hands and the slight beer gut suggest a blue collar job...in fact, he was a plumber. He was my brother. In a sense. People always looked at us funny when I told them; there’s no resemblance whatsoever, and we’re clearly pretty close in age. When you’ve been close with someone for twenty years, I figure you’re either family, or lovers, and our parents being married would’ve made the latter more than a little awkward. People hate it when I make that joke, makes ‘em real uncomfortable, but hey, that just makes it funnier for me.  The cops are ruling it a suicide on account of him being full of liquor, with no other wounds to speak of, and my idiot mother admitted he had a history of self harm. Now I know the guy had some troubles earlier in life, but getting drunk, driving to a bridge and throwing himself off? Not his style. Dude was impatient, and I’ve had to take guns from him before. Drowning is too slow, especially in that part of the river this time of year. Dude could have stood up and stumbled to drunken safety, right next to the moonshine distillery. Shouldn’t he have broken something in a fall like that? People tell me denial is just part of the grieving process, but I know bullshit when I smell it. My grandpa has a farm.  Steph is just beside herself. Literally. Ever since that accident with truck filled with ooze of dubious origin she’s had a double inches from her at all times. It doesn’t speak and it isn’t fully corporeal, but its there, standing, mimicking Steph’s expressions and movements. She’s real easy to see driving down the street too, but people learned to deal with it. Anyway, she’s (they’re?) in my bar, saying she believes me. I tell her what everyone tells me, its the grief, but she says that he hadn’t drank anything that night. More importantly, he fell asleep on top of her and she would’ve noticed if he moved. That’s not what I’ve heard, but I didn’t say that out loud. What kind of guy would tell a grieving widow her deceased husband was hung like a field mouse? Don’t answer that, I know. He was my brother though, so I couldn’t bring myself to shit on him, lest his angry ghost fuck up my bar. “So,” I muttered, “what do you want me to do about it? The fuzz had their say, case closed. This ain’t a mystery I can solve. What do I look like, Scooby Doo? Don’t answer that.”  “No, asshole, you don’t look like a fucking cartoon dog. But I know when weird shit happens, you’re the guy to talk to.” She starts crying something fierce before continuing. “That’s what Mike always said at least” “Alright, fuck you. First of all, Scoobert Doobert is a legend, beloved by all, and I will not have you reducing his existence to ‘cartoon dog’ in my establishment. Second, how DARE you come at me while I grieve, trying to use my dead brother’s name to guilt trip me into something.” We stared at each other a long while. She’s crying, I’m crying, it’s a mess. I don’t know if it was the grief or the extreme need to get this crying woman (women?) out of my bar before the usual drunks start wandering in, but I caved. “Fine. Fuck it, fine. Let me make sure I have the facts straight; Y’all do the deed, he passes out on top of you. Next, he gets up and has a little drink, drives down Belvedere and parks by the memorial center, and jumps off a bridge.” “Yeah, but we know that last part didn’t happen, I would’ve noticed him move.” “Okay, fine, but that just makes it sound like you did it. How long until you woke up and noticed he wasn’t there?” She doesn’t look happy at that one. I’m a real charmer, I know. She goes on. “Around 11 A.M., when I got the call about...” she drifts off, starts crying again. Either a great actress killed my brother, or she’s trying really hard to keep it together. Her double hovers by, a mourning mirror making me feel even worse about not trying harder sooner. I interrupt, eager to get this over with. “And what time did you fall asleep?” A solid minute later, she wipes away the snot and tears. How come its always snot? Really makes a person feel worse about themselves when a booger is sliding down their face with the tears. “Oh, about ten p.m.” “You laid there for thirteen hours and still think you would’ve noticed? I’ll level with you, this whole thing seems fishier by the minute. You’re wrong, or lying, but I’m gonna be a fool and believe you for his sake. Go home and get some rest, I’m gonna head out and ask a few questions.” She thanks me and heads out, leaving a trail of tears and snot in her wake. I call my staff, tell them not to come in tonight. After the final “Fuck you, I need my hours!”, I head into the storage closet where I keep my “Closed on account of Some Bullshit” sign, grab it and walk towards the door to hang it up. Only I don’t. There’s someone behind the bar, and they’re naked. “Not again,” I think, before  getting a closer look at the creep. There he is, tiny pecker and all. My brother.

“Man if you’re gonna haunt me could you at least haunt me with some clothes on? I don’t need ghost pubes around the joint if a health inspector shows up. Don’t you dead assholes usually have, like, some rags or a sheet or something?” Much to my annoyance, he responds. “Nah, the sheets look too much like the KKK getup. Makes people uncomfortable.” A startling realization. Old timey ghosts are super racist. Also, he’s very clearly alive. Ghosts ain’t got much of a sense of humor. “You asshole, you’re fucking alive?! Tell ya what, after I whip your naked ass, you’re gonna call everyone and apologize. This is ridiculous.” The supposedly dead streaker backs into the shelf behind the bar, hands up. In a shaky, scared voice he says “N-no, you can’t. No one can know I’m alive! I got people after me, Conner, I had to fake my death.” I pinch the bridge of my nose so hard that I’m sure I’ve left a bruise. “Fuckin’ okay, what the hell was the body they found?” “I had that hoodoo woman that was always screaming at people on Broad Street hook me up with a little something. You don’t know what its made of, but the people at the morgue are gonna be in for a surprise tomorrow.” I don’t ask any questions about that part, everyone knows that old bat had some weird shit going on. “Sure, but whoever is after you is gonna find out too. Now to the important question, why in the fuck are you naked in my bar?” “I put my clothes on the thing so it’d look authentic, then I creeped in here through that back window you always forget to lock.” “So,” I start, pinching the bridge of my nose again. “You managed to creep two and a half miles in the dead of night, through downtown Richmond? And no one saw you?”  “Oh some people saw me. I’m just too fast, the cops could never catch me.” As he explains, I hang the sign up. Can’t have some poor customer catch me arguing with a naked ghost, would really hurt the business. Then, I lay into him for a good twenty minutes about what a moron he is, as this plan is garbage from start to finish, almost like some hack writer couldn’t think of anything better. I also hand him some clothes I keep in storage in a bin labeled “lost and found”, as if anyone ever comes looking for the stuff. You’d be amazed at the shit people leave lying around here and never come looking for. Clothes, wallets, a weird book with a lock on it that I haven’t had the balls to crack open yet. Sometimes guns, sometimes pictures of people I’ve never seen. All doomed to life in a closet. He tells me the people after him are part of the same gang I ran with as a teenager, the Pale Horse Motorcycle Club. That makes things less complicated. I’d talk to John, the boss of the gang, and get it all sorted out. That asshole owes me a few times over anyway. I let the dead prick use a few padded bras from the lost and found (seriously, who in the fuck leaves those on the ground and how didn’t I notice?) for a pillow and let him rest. My apartment is only a few blocks down the street, so I walk on home. I open the door and notice something feels off. The place is smoky, which isn’t super out of the ordinary, but the smell is way worse than normal. I take a deep breath and place the heavy, cloying scent as cigar smoke. “Look,” I say to the black abyss that is my home this time of night, “if you’re that guy from the other night, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. You just seemed like you’re into freakier shit than I can deal with.” The person in my armchair strikes a match. I catch a few features; Bushy black beard, oily tan skin, glasses. “Hey John, thought you’d be stopping by. Didn’t have to-” “I did have to. You know we’re all about imagery. Now sit down, lets talk.” Instead of humoring him, I pull a knife on him. This isn’t some Hollywood picture, can’t take any chances. Mistake on my end though, as the last thing I remember of that night is getting hit in the head, hard, and feeling my carpet rush up to meet me.

[corvid-knight]

Demon Eyes - chapter 4

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/31671465

Packing up the room doesn't take long. You take your stuff out to the truck, go through and gather everything important (translation: all the weapons Bro stashed) and carry them out. Your stuff gets shoved in the backseat. His, you toss in the very back. If it blows out, fuck it. There's absolutely nothing he can do about it, and you don't give a fuck.

For some reason, that's got you grinning as you go back in to check on Karkat, who's going over the room one more time to see if you missed any weapons. It's a good thing he did that, too, because you step in and the demon's perched on a stool, with three handguns and a ten-inch hunting knife laid out on the counter in front of him.

"Where the fuck were these?"

"Behind the microwave, taped to the wall in one of the cabinets, tucked in between the mattresses, and down in the toilet tank." Karkat taps the guns and the knife as he lists their hiding places, not looking up from the phone in his other hand. "Does he hide shit like this every time?"

"Kinda." Usually it's worse, since cleaning didn't mean either you or me getting hurt this time around. You sit down on the other stool and lean over to see what he's looking at.

Maps. Fuck, you hate maps.

"So, what? He'd hide them and then booby-trap the hiding places?"

"And had me round them up, yeah."

The demon huffs, glancing up at you for a second. "That's sick."

"It's training," you point out with a shrug. (Never mind that some part of you is shaking its head in disappointment as it asks training for what? That thought's too deep for him to read, anyway.) "Dirk send those directions yet?"

"He did, and I checked them over." Karkat hands you the phone, one eyebrow quirking up at the look on your face. "I'm guessing you want the summary, huh?"

"Fuck yeah I do, if you got one." Don't make me look at the hell squiggles, man.

He snorts. "Okay, okay. It's at least a couple days of driving, unless you want to not fucking stop. Which we could technically do—I don't exactly need to sleep every night. It'd mean me passing out for maybe two days when we get where they're going, but hey." He shrugs and spreads his hands, and those red eyes flash as he adds silently, I'd be okay with that so long as you don't take the opportunity to talk them into killing me. Or to kill me yourself.

"I wouldn't do that." You're very surprised at how little time it takes you to come up with that response, and at the amount of force you want to put behind it. Wow, I'm a shitty hunter.

"I mean, that depends on your definition of 'hunter,' doesn't it?"

"It's pretty damn clear-cut here, man. A hunter's a hunter. You kill demons, you try not to get wrecked, rinse and repeat."

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows again, nodding at the phone. "I think Dirk might have a different definition."

"...what?"

"Look, I've hung around hunters before, believe it or not." Karkat frowns, running both hands through his curly hair and making it fluff up worse. Cute, you think, and immediately hope he didn't hear. "Like, pretending to be a human, yeah, but also just going, 'hey, you dumbasses are about to get killed, how about you listen to a demon who actually fucking knows how the things you're hunting think?'"

"If you said that, I can't fucking believe you're still alive."

"I'm persuasive, shut the fuck up. Plus if you go in and save their asses, even hunters'll cut you some slack, demon or no."

"Bro wouldn't."

"I said hunters. Not fucking rabid dogs." Karkat rolls his shoulders; the movement's not quite a shrug but you don't know what else to call it. "Hunters, I can reason with, sometimes. Maybe most of the time, if they've got any fucking sense, or if there's a clairvoyant or another demon with the team."

"Hunters don't work with demons—"

"And who the fuck told you that?" The tone is sharp; the question is rhetorical. When you look down instead of answering it, Karkat continues, more gently. "Hunters aren't fucking coldblooded killers. Not usually. They hunt, they take out things that're a danger so normal people don't have to know about it. You? You're probably a good hunter. The mindset's there; so's the ability and the technique."

"Yeah, well, you took me down, so..." The shame from that still hurts, even if it was maybe the best thing that's ever happened to you.

"One, I was pissed. Two, that was the worst fucking scenario you could've been in; it's not exactly your fault if a psycho set you up to get killed."

Don't fucking say that.

Karkat pauses in the act of ticking off reasons on his fingers, leaning over to look you in the eyes. "Say what; that he was a psycho? Or that he wanted me to kill you?"

"Either. Both. I don't want to hear it right now, okay?"

"Just because I don't say it doesn't make it not true, Dave. But I'll shut up about it for now. Three." Another finger unfolded from his fist. "If you'd had any fucking backup at all, I'd be dead and we wouldn't be having this fucking conversation. Same for if that asshole gave you tech like a decent fucking hunter. It's not like he can't get his hands on a nightvision setup."

"He hated those fucking things. Called 'em cheating."

"Well, aren't I lucky he was a fucking idiot, then?"

"That makes two of us." You say that without even thinking, and regret it for the split second before Karkat laughs and pats your shoulder.

"It does, doesn't it?" He hops off the stool, grabbing two of the guns and checking the safety. "I wonder if anyone would say anything if we just carried these out, didn't bother to hide them..."

"Dude, places like this, there's a pretty damn good chance you could walk a hellhound through the parking lot and the only thing that's gonna happen is that somebody looks over and thinks, 'huh, that asshole's lucky there's no cops around to get him for the leash law.'" You grin as Karkat chuckles, and pull your shirt up so you can shove the other gun and the knife unto the waistband of your jeans. Damn, but that's uncomfortable. Good thing you're only walking out to the truck.

When you look up from smoothing your shirt down, Karkat's standing there watching you with a faint smile. Even though his shirt's more fitted than yours, you can't see the telltale bulge of a weapon under it. Where the hell did he put the guns?

"Demon secret. C'mon." And he smiles brightly and steps over to hold the door open for you.

You almost go around to the passenger side of the truck, just because that's where you're so used to being whether you like it or not. Bro let you drive sometimes, yeah—mostly when he wasn't functional enough to do it himself, or when he had a demon he wanted to interrogate in the backseat. The point is, it wasn't all that frequent of an occurrence, and it takes a voluntary shift of what you're thinking for you to go to the driver's side and open the door.

"Give me the phone," Karkat says as you stop to extricate the weapons from where they're tucked into the waistband of your jeans. "I'll play navigator; make sure you don't get us stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere."

"Dude, have a little faith in me, c'mon." The phone goes on the center console where he can get it; the knife and handgun both go in the glovebox, pushed back behind the duct-tape-covered ziplock baggie that Bro keeps cash in. You pull that out, checking the weight, and sigh in relief. Okay, so I don't have to try and access his accounts for a while...

"I mean, if we actually ran out of money I'm pretty fucking sure I could do something about it."

"Don't think you'd have to—he has—he had, shit." There's no verb tense that doesn't sound wrong right now, so you sigh and fix your seatbelt, thinking a different way to talk around it while you start the car. "There's money. Like, more than the couple thou he keeps stashed in here, a lot more. And I can get it, the accounts're set up so you don't need ID to make withdrawal if you know the codes, I just...it feels weird." Like he'd be pissed if I took his shit.

Karkat's quiet as you back out of the small parking lot, glancing down at the phone and pointing to the left when you look over at him for directions. He doesn't say anything until you're actually on the main highway.

"It's not his shit anymore, Dave."

"Yeah, I know. In here at least." You take one hand off the wheel to tap your temple, not taking your eyes off the road. "But see, it's down here that fucks me up." And you touch your stomach, just a little below your ribs. "Like, you can say it's all fine, you can tell me he's gone, I fucking know that shit. Doesn't matter, 'cause the shit he taught me doesn't even connect in my head, it's fucking part of me and I dunno how to make it go away. Fuck, there probably isn't a way to make it go away."

Shit. Too fucking many words. Plus your eyes are stinging a little now; you're not tearing up yet, but if you don't have enough sense to shut up that might change pretty damn fast.

"Hey."

Look, I shouldn't've said any of that in the first place, so how about you pretend I didn't say it?

"Because you did, and it's not fucking true, and you need to understand that." Even though you don't take your eyes off the road, you can tell he's shifting in his seat, probably crossing his arms. "It's still in your head. All the fucked-up shit he did to you, that changed how you think. It's not your fucking fault, and it'll get better eventually." He touches your arm for just a second, pulling back to his own side before you can even react. "I promise you that, alright?"

God.

You have no fucking clue how to react to someone saying something like that. You also don't know if you totally believe him.

"...yeah. Thanks, man." But believe him or not, he's making an effort to get you to believe you're not a broken piece of shit, which definitely means something. "There's CDs under your seat; you wanna go through them and find us some music?"

"Yeah, of course." For a second you can almost feel Karkat thinking about saying something else, not letting this shit go even though you asked him to.

Then he leans down and drags out the book of CDs so he can start flipping through it, and you relax a little bit.

Karkat doesn't care for most of the music in the collection, which doesn't really surprise you. You defend the selection when he grumbles about it, though. Point of principal. In the end he just turns on the radio and slowly goes through the available stations, pausing long enough on each to get a feel for what they're playing.

You tune that out. It's not exactly hard; concentrating on driving counts as some kind of hypnosis for you, especially when you're not trying to figure out how to get from point A to point B. You'd say it's pretty damn close to being asleep with your eyes open, except that implies that you're a danger on the road, and you're really not. You're a safe driver, you're just...not all the way present, kind of.

In a good way.

Anyway. You zone out and you pretty much stay zoned out, except for the twenty minutes when Karkat talks you into pulling off the highway to get lunch from a fast-food drivethrough. He orders for himself and you, which is nicer than you want to admit; you hate that kind of interaction, and he does know what you want.

You have no memory of actually eating the hamburger, but you definitely do. The next time you glance at the radio, it's almost five, the sun's starting to get close to the horizon, and you're about three hundred miles closer to your cousin.

Karkat seems to be able to tell that you're not zoning anymore; he looks up at you, raising his eyebrows. "Do you want me to drive?"

"Nah. I think we're gonna skip the whole driving at night thing; it's not like Dirk's going anywhere. If I see a hotel in the next ten minutes I'm stopping."

"And if you don't?"

"I'm still stopping. Not like I haven't slept in the pickup bed before; there's an air mattress and shit in the backseat for when we had to do that."

"Fair enough." Silently, he adds, I can go find somewhere else to sleep, if you're not okay with me being that close to you again.

"Hey, I was okay with it last night, right?" Well, mostly.

"Yeah, until you woke up and almost had a panic attack—"

"I didn't—" Okay, yeah, but that isn't going to happen again.

I mean, if it does at least I'll be expecting it.

"I'm not gonna lose my shit again, Karkat. Besides, there's like a fifty-fifty chance we'll hit a hotel, and it won't even be a problem."

You do not reach a hotel.

Instead, you pull into a rest area, park as far away from the entrance as you can, and turn the truck off. The keys go in the cupholder; that's a hell of a lot safer than stashing them in your pocket. Not like anybody can get in to steal them.

By the time you get your seatbelt undone, Karkat's already out of the truck and digging around in the backseat, easily finding both the air mattress and the two rolled-up sleeping bags and tossing them up in the very back so he can hop up himself.

After grabbing the battery-powered air pump, you follow him. "Toss Bro's bag out."

"Uh..." The demon picks it up, but hesitates for a second, and you sigh.

"We need the room, c'mon. I'll pick it up before we leave tomorrow, don't worry."

"Okay, okay. It's not like I get to say anything about what you do with your own belongings, anyway." A pained look flashes across his face when you wince at that statement. "Dave—"

"Yeah, I know, you're right, technically it's my shit." Hooking up the air pump is a good excuse to not look at him. "But for right now? It's still his. Let it go."

Thankfully, he does.

It takes a little maneuvering to get the mattress to lay flat as you air it up; you don't remember it being this tight of a fit last time you did this. Then again, there's a chance Bro had a different truck, since he changes it out every couple years.

Past tense. I'm never going to get used to him being past tense, damn.

By the time you get everything settled and Karkat coaxes you into eating a couple granola bars he found somewhere in the truck, it's full dark and you're tired as hell. You drop the empty wrappers somewhere off the mattress, flop back, and sigh when the demon doesn't move from where he's perched on the tailgate. "Karkat."

"Yes?"

"Get down here with me, asshole."

"You sure?"

Get your fucking ass down here before I drag you down, you think at him, and he snorts.

"Scoot over a little."

He slips under the sleeping bag with you, nestling against your back. He's warm,and you don't know if it's because he's a demon or just because you're so very aware that he's there.

If you weren't uncomfortable with having someone this close to you in the first place, it'd be nice.

Once you manage to relax and stop thinking so hard about it it's still nice.

It still takes you a good couple hours to go to sleep, though.

#demon eyes

[francisfvckcff]

triggers: referenced transphobia, abuse, attempted sexual violence

The Typical Basics

What is your real, birth name? Any nicknames?

What the fuck kind of question is that? No, no nicknames. And Francis. Francis Fehler. You’re not getting me to say it, I’m not deadnaming myself for your dumb ass.

When and where were you born?

Fort Gibson, the oldest town in Oklahoma. Born there on June 23rd, 1998 at two somethin’ in the A.M.

What is your ethnicity (their racial/cultural group) and nationality (what country were they born in)?

I dunno. Some shade of white, I don’t really keep too connected to my parents, they have all of that information. If they do. If not, well. Either way I’m shit out of luck. I’m American born.

What is your Myers-Briggs Personality Type? (If you don’t know go here, this question is optional.)

ENTP-A, The Debater.

What do you look like? (Include height, weight, hair, eyes, skin, apparent age, and distinguishing features)

I’m nineteen, five foot seven, Dunno what I weigh, probably one-thirty, one-fifty. Brown hair, brown eyes, curls when it gets long enough. Pale but not pasty. Got a few birthmarks, moles or whatever. And gauges.

In your opinion, what is your best feature?

My acidit wit.

Familial Questions

What is/was your family structure like? (i.e. are you adopted, how many siblings, pets, etc.)

I had a dog, name was Rusty. And an outside cat that my dad tried to shoot once. Her name was Oscar. Um. I had two older brothers, and both parents.

Who was your father, and what was he like? Who was your mother, and what was she like? What was your parents marriage like? Were they married? Did they remain married?

My dad’s first love was Yuengling. And his second love was the NRA. I think the only thing after my mom on his list was me. My mother was a trailer park kid who wanted to be a Stepford wife when she grew up. And I guess the only thing in the way of that was me. Not the drunk husband or abusive son or anything. They’re still married, far as I know. Don’t think they’ve got anything better lined up yet.

Do you have any siblings? If so, what are/were your siblings names? What are/were they like?

My oldest brother was named Scott, and the middle brother’s Boone. Last time I saw Scott he was using performance enhancers trying to get to college ‘cause he couldn’t do it with his brain, and his girl was goin’ all the way up to Ohio State. Boone’s just an asshole. He’s gonna be a pastor or a politician, and we won’t know either way until he fucks some dude in a bathroom.

Who are your closest friend(s)? Describe them and how you relate to them. If not, do you wish you did? Is there anyone you wish they could build such a relationship with?

Um. I mean, obviously Stuart, Gemma, Manny, Rosa. The circus gang as a whole, they’re family. Way more family than mine ever was. And I’m grateful for that. They’re all a guy could need.

What is your relationship status? If you’re not single, who are you with? Describe them and how you two met and what your relationship is like with them? If you have a crush, feel free to describe them as well.

I’m single. Um… Yeah. Nothing to report.

What Is Your Opinion On…

Rant about that’s eating you up.

Okay. Free pass. I’ll take it.

Some dumb fucker on the bus this morning asked me why I was so fuckin’ short. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly Shaq, but I’m lookin’ around and there are guys all over the damn place out there looking like honest to god beer cans, so I look at him and ask, you know, “Is there some kind of a problem here? It’s not like I’m even the shortest guy here, what’d I take your seat or somethin’?” And don’t get me wrong, in retrospect - you know, hindsight is 20/20 - in retrospect the signs were all there, this was an older gentleman, whatever, had that look. I just wasn’t ready for it, I didn’t even have my coffee yet this mornin’. He asks me again, I ask again why it matters, he says it just does. So I just make some shit up about not getting my protein, who fuckin’ cares, it ain’t even seven in the morning yet, and what does this ugly fucker say to me?

“I bet I could help you with that.”

Fuckin’ unbelievable.

What would/would’ve make you drop college/university?

Finding something better.

Are humans better at creation or destruction?

I don’t think there’s any one way people are better at than the other. There are all types, and we never really move in one direction or the other. Just try to fix shit and fail. So both. We fuck ourselves over, see?

If you could sum up humans in 3 words, what would they be?

Messy irritating fucksticks.

Are some lives more valuable than others?

I’m supposed to say no, right? Because yeah. Of course there are lives more valuable than others. If you had to run into a burning building, and you could go in two doors, alright? Behind one door is a baby, behind the other is some dude who killed five babies. You can only save one before the building collapses, you’re gonna save the baby. Because you’re not an idiot. So yeah, of course they do.

Do you believe there is good in everybody?

I believe there’s good in everybody to start. I do think some people burn it all out of themselves though.

Would you ever turn on someone you just met in order to save themselves?

Remember the baby killer? Could be that guy. I don’t know. So yeah, I’d leave them to fend for themselves. If the universe takes ‘em instead of me, that’s on the universe.

Which of the seven deadly sins do you most embody?

Probably wrath. I have a little bit of a temper.

If you were omnipotent for just one day, what change would you make in the world?

I’d hopefully make it at least a little bit less shitty. I dunno. If I could snap my fingers and make people less stupid, I guess that. Help us all out for the longrun.

Tapping Into The Psyche

What is your biggest fear and why?

Abandonment. I’ve got a whole family’s worth of daddy issues. Manifesting in daddy, mommy, and bro-y issues.

What makes you really angry? Be honest.

… Everything? A lot? Stupid people?

What is something unforgivable that could destroy a relationship?

Misgendering me to my face is a once in a lifetime experience.

What’s one experience you had that made you very afraid?

I got caught in the wrong place. Had a smoke at the wrong time. Thought things were going to be fun, thought I was having a good time making jokes with this guy. He asked some weird questions, I gave some weird answers, thirty minutes down the line, Rosa was the Incredible Hulk, he almost didn’t have a dick, and I was crying on a sidewalk corner, so. That probably tops the charts.

What does it take to make you cry?

A whole lot more than a sad song and chopped onions. You could make yourself cry easier than you could get me to.

Would society call you a good guy or a bad guy? What would you say you are?

I’d be down with either, long as society’s calling me a guy. I don’t know, though. It depends. If I like you, I’m a good guy. If I don’t, I’m probably not the best.

Have you ever committed a crime, or something you felt was wrong? What was it?

I stole deodorant once. I was in a hurry and couldn’t find the shop owner. So sorry about that, whoever was one short on deodorant next inventory. Boys are smelly.

Do you hold grudges?

With abandon.

Does you have a deep and/or dark secret? If so, what is it?

… These questions seem loaded, every now and then, you know that?

No. No deep, dark secrets. I have my secrets, and I share them when I feel like it.

Do you like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

No? Who wants to do either of those things? I’m just trying to make it through to the weekend, I figure everybody is.

Are you more physically or emotionally strong? Why do you believe so?

Emotionally, 'cause I haven’t found the right gym to get me on my way to the biceps of my dreams like all of the posters say.

Have you ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are you the same as you were before you lost them?

Yeah. Uncle Ty. Uh. No, probably not. I’d probably still be at home if he was there. But shit happens, right?

What do you want to be remembered for after you die?

Being fucking hilarious.

#wdpachallenge #🐞;; challenge

[roguekriger]

Tag Time!

TAGGED BY: @the-shifty-cow ! Thank you kindly! (I meant to do this earlier but I just started another Mass Effect playthrough and I is distracted)

RULES: Answer 30 questions and tag ██ blogs you are contractually obligated to know.

TAGGING: @thxchampagne @cauldronfalls @spacejampire @haaska @rareastrees plus anyone else who wants to do it! (I’m sorry I have so many other people I’d like to tag but can’t think of at the top of my head!)

Nicknames: Rogue is the main one since it’s my alias on LITERALLY EVERYTHING. I also get called N7 a lot. My actual name isn’t the easiest to make nicknames for soooooooo

Gender/Pronouns: Male - he/him

Star Sign: Aries

Height: 6′2″ some people will say I’m 6′1″ or 6′1.5″ and those people are LIARS

Time: 11:32 PM (Eastern Standard Time)

Birthday: March 22

Favorite Bands:  Lord off the top of my head Linkin Park (RIP Chester), Two Steps from Hell (technically Orchestra but close enough) Smallpools, Starset, Disturbed (video is kinda dark), Stuck in the Sound, and AC/DC. For things that aren’t technically bands (which I listen to more often tbh) there’s Drunk Girl (one of my all time favorites!), Hermitude, Hollywood Principle, Daft Punk, Destroid, Niklas Ahlström, C2C, and Shirk. There’s definitely more but good lord can I not remember them rn

//Imma put each name as a link to their best song (imo) in case ya wanna listen

Favorite Solo Artist: Literally the ONLY solo artist I follow and listen to on my own accord is James Durbin. Sure I listen to all the mainstream artists but he’s the only one where I actually buy his music and listen to him regularly.

Song Stuck in your head: I’m almost always “rapping” the first verse of Survival by Eminem (that song has picked me up out of some bad times more than once) but currently and almost always I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire by The Ink Spots is stuck in my head.

Last movie you watched: Pitch Perfect 3 which I may add was awesome and better than the second one

Last Show: My dude I have to many shows but the last one was 9-1-1

Why did you create you blog?: Buddy if I had an answer for you I’d be ecstatic but considering the clusterfuck of content I post ranging from mass effect to the stupidest shit posts in existence I would technically say that when I created this 4 years ago was simply for the spicy memes and funny ass text posts but then it more became a blog to keep with my fandoms and yada yada yada.

What do you post?: Well going off of ^^^ mostly Mass Effect, humor (shitposts are humor right?), occasional news or PSAs, space stuff, anything sci-fi really, Gregor the Overlander even tho this fandom is pretty much dead lmao, and really most video games especially like Bioware and Bethesda

Last thing you googled?: Baikal Rift Valley distance from upper mantle            (I HAVE MY REASONS)

Other blogs: I have two other blogs on tumblr and no where else

AO3: Okay I didn’t even KNOW what AO3 was until like a few months ago and I’ve read like maybe two fanfictions in my life but I have written one piece for Mass Effect 3 (should be on here somewhere I think I posted it for N7 day) and a novel length one for The Underland Chronicles which I’m still writing.

Do you get asks?: Lol no

How did you get the idea for your URL?: Okay so...I’m honestly not sure. Ever since Spore came out I’ve loved the word Rogue. Don’t know why, I guess I liked the whole fight against the current lone wolf kinda thing and that’s pretty much what a “rogue” is. As for Kriger, well I also love mythology and history, specifically of Greek and Scandinavian/Norse origin and I believe if my memory serves me right Kriger translates to Warrior in Norwegian. I mean I’ve used this URL for years now so even if that’s wrong its whatever at this point

I follow: 449 blogs which honestly I’m pretty sure a good 80% are inactive if not more. Plus a few friends that...well...aren’t around anymore. For various reasons.

Followers: 419 but that numbers gonna drop because I just KNOW more than half of those are probably porn bots and when I finally gain the motivation imma block em

Average hours of sleep: When I don’t have class or many classes probably around 8 hours but if I have a lot of classes (like last spring) probably 5 to 6

Lucky number: 8, the vertical infinity sign

Instruments: I use to know a few songs on the guitar and piano but idk I never kept with it

What are you wearing?: Andromeda Initiative shirt and jeans! Plus my dog tag

Dream Job: Okay so it’s always been a cross between astronautical engineer for NASA (which is what I’m going to school for) and game developer. I’ve also played with the idea of founding my own engineering company but that’s like way off in the future

Dream Trip: I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland and/or Japan. But honestly a dream trip would be to some ancient ruins in some tropical location or one of those gorgeous nature trips like in the canyons in Zion. Or space, I REALLY wanna go to space. Yeah scratch the other stuff. I wanna go to space. Fuck yeah.

Favorite Food: Beef Carpaccio from Brio straight up. I fucking love it. I’d kill for it. I can’t get ENOUGH OF IT. Also sushi.

Significant Other?: HA. HAHA. HAHAHAHAHA. Oh man that’s funny. My dude my longest relationship was 3 months I would LOVE to have a name to put here but alas I am unlucky and not the most sociable.

Last book I read: Damn I wanna say it was The Underland Chronicles since I reread that at least like once every year but holy shit I can’t remember what was the last book I read. Fuck that’s depressing for some reason.

Top 3 fictional universes: Mass Effect, Fallout, The Underland Chronicles

#tag #rk speaks #roguekriger #rk #long post

[roccoroks]

VOLUME 6 DAG FILES GATHER ROUND FUCKERS.....ITS THAT TIME AGIAN! ITS STORY TIME WITH ROCCO!!!! its been a long fucking week, elevator took a shit, roof blew off and the Indians are back from cherrokee and all of this in one 18 hour period, not to mention i have a desk clerk that thinks he is supreme overlord over the internet systems and security systems and he is not. thats my job. i am to supreme pizza as he is to cheese pizza but he has yet to figure this out. anywho (count down to when someone photoshops dicks into that gif) to day started out harmless enough, bird chirping and shit, sun was out, it was like 80 degrees but that was the highlight of my day. see i was being called in because we could no longer remote view our security systems because Lord WiFi fucked up the routers again. 10:30 am i arrive at the motel..... IN MAH NEW TRUCK MIGHT I ADD! *phone rings* me: hello (bleeeeep) how my i help.... dag: YES I WOULD LIKE TO BOOK ONE OF THOSE ROOOMS, THEY GOT DAT JACUZZZZZZZZI IN EM me: (MOTHER OF FUCK COULD YOU TALK ANY LOUDER!!) YES MAM, WE HAVE THOSE (MEETING HER VOLUME EQUALLY AS LOUD) dag: HOW MUCH IT BE FO 1 NIGHT? me: just one second.....( rack rate of 59.95, 10 dollar fee for destroying my hearing in everyway possible and the 5.00 i hate you fee) mam? dag: WHAT? me: huh? oh it will be 89.95 (i rounded up) dag: last time we stayed there... me: (oh for fuck sake, here we go) dag: it was 29.45 and tax me: was not, it has never been that rate.....ever dag: it was to me: was not, i know for a fact it wasnt, our minimum rate is 49.95 not 29 (oh shit im being a asshole and jill said i wasnt allow to be a dick anymore) you may have us mistaken with another motel mam dag: i dont like your tone me: (i dont like you) im sorry mam but the truth is that our rate is 89.95, now if you stay 3 nights i can give you 10.00 off dag: (yells to here husband) HEY! RICKYBOBBYJIMBOB BASS HE SAYS HE WILL GIVE IT TO US FOR 10.00 OFF IF WE BOOK 3 NIGHTS OR MORE dags husband: SHEEEEEIT THATS ALMOST 40.00 OFF *heard in the background* me: O.o (you no math what good) dag: OH YEAH WE TAKE THAT, THATS A GOOD DEAL 10 OFF A NIGHT! me:  (i seem to have made the screaming mongoose happy) ok i just need some info from you and we can get your reservation in place, when are you coming? ( i swear if you say as we speak and start moaning that the last person did, i will commit suicide) dag: uuhhhhhhhhhhhhh...... me: ( WAS THAT A FUCKING MOAN) mama? dag: HOLD ON, IMA THINGKIN (say it just as i spelled it) me: ........ *begins making the universal jack off sign* dag: oh! WE IS COMING TODDAY ME:  (REALLY.....HOW CAN YOU BE THIS STUPID AND NOT KNOW WHEN YOU ARE EVEN COMING IN.....WHEN ITS TODAY!!!) *A SHORT SERIES OF QUESTIONS LATER* me: ok i need your zip code please dag: ******* (its cherrokees zip code) me: (fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.... you people always cause problems) ok mam i have your reservation right here and i will see you soon! *dag hangs up with out further conflict* -12:4.....something pm IDK- -there is a nasty storm moving is and the wind is cutting about 60 mph in straight lines and shit getting crazy up in hurr- *struggling with printer, trying to refill the paper tray* me: *grabs multiple sheets of paper* yes, take my load of white paper *wont fit, grabbed to much paper* me: how about now *still no beuno* *removes more paper* me: now? *begins shoving paper into tray at maximum force* *still to much!* me: I WILL DESTROY YOU HP LASERJET P1101W! *phone rings* me: *throws paper in fit of rage, paper now covers 95% of the desk* .... O.e FML!! hello how may i help you? Jill: rocco? me:.....what jill: the cameras still dont work, i cant see shit on my phone me:......no shit? that might be because i have yet to get to that problem.... jill: dont be a ass just fix it me: why does this need to be delt with right this moment, im in the fight of my life with this stupid printer.... jill: i need to be able to watch everyone work... me: ......pervert.. jill: blow it out you ass me: you would like that wouldnt you...*heres her hang up the phone*...PERVERT! *TURNS AROUND TO SEE A LARGE LADY STANDING IN MY LOBBY* ME: hello what can i do for you? Dag: yeah hunneh wez gotza reservation widjall (good luck reading that shit) me: oh ok, whats the first name .....*notices she has what looks like a cross tattoo on her right shoulder*....thats a interesting tattoo you got there dag: oh this old ting? hunneh thats from a long time ago... me: oh is it tribal? (she indian so must bee) dag: sweety child no thats a pork chop... me:..........(BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH WTAF!) *snicker* uh...how come *pfssssss* i mean to stay *choking back tears* what pork chop dags husband: *from the couch in the lobby* BECAUSE SHES A FAT ASS! me: e.o.....(ho god ho god ho god! i cant do it! i just cant do it) falls in the floor laughing my ass off dag: mothafuck i told you not to speak! bitch you want to eat tonight dont you! me: (oh shit!) snaps to attention dags husband: pfssss wtf ever you know who wears the britches in this relationship! me: (shut up dude, this bitch has the size and capacity of a small bread truck, you may never be heard from again) here are your keys enjoy your stay (please dont eat me) *dag leaves, phone rings* me: hello how may i help you? jill: rocco me: now what jill: moms dog is sick me: i dont care jill: oh and bobby is sick, you have to cover third shift tonight, we have 3 late reservations coming in and you need to take care of it *loud noise heard in parking lot* me: OH SHIT NIGGA! THE ROOF JUST BLEW THE FUCK OFF AND LANDED ON A CAR! JILL: WHAT?! *hangs up phone and runs outside* me: *see that part of the roof has blown off and landed on one of the maids cars* OH THANK GOD, its just marys car thats distroyed. mary: OH YEAH BECAUSE THATS SOOOOO MUCH BETTER! me: meh.....*goes back inside while mary rages out* -12 am now...things are quiet.... to quiet... me: *le derpin on the omputer* *loud thud heard from outside* me: maybe its just thunder and it will go away. *more more disturbing louder noises heard from out side* me: please be thunder! please? please?? *yet another loud noise followed by muffled cussing and a loud clang!* me:.....my suspicions are now aroused..... *phone rings* me: front desk customer: yes we are in 304 and there are some people fighting on the balcony. me: yes sir i will get right on that! - it was that this time all hell broke loose- me: *looks out in the parking lot to see not one not two but all, yes all of my patio furniture from third floor laying in the parking lot and just then i see a tv fall to the ground* HOLY FUCK! *runs out the door* *screaming that i could hear running up the steps to 3rd floor* "your a piece of shit! i cant brelieve you would smoke my last cigarette you boofalo fuckin squirrel shit eating ass clown" me: holy shit! porkchop is fucking pissed! *arrives out of breath to 3rd floor* HEY HEY HEY! YOU TWO NEED TO KNOCK IT THE FUCK.... *pork chop throws a ash tray at me, just as it passes me i hear it break the sound barrier* me: SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! *DUCKS* WTF! LOOK YOU BEST STOP OR IM GOING TO CALL THE COPS! *porkchop is now ignoring me and is attempting to throw her husband off the 3rd floor railing, yes they are hammered drunk* dag: "ima kill you, you sorry fucker! how dare you smoke my last cig!" me: *calls the cops" 911: 911 whats your emergency? me: yes my name is -------- and im at the --------- and there are two indians beating the shit out of each other on my patio 911: sir? me: SEND THE COPS! THE FAT ONE IS TRYING TO EAT THE LITTLE ONE! 911: ok sir units are dispatched and on the way me: *hags up phone and hides in ice room* -about 29 seconds later, two squads show up- me: oh thank god! -by this point the husband was locked in the bathroom narrowly avoiding being eaten, and porkchop was dragging out all the furniture on to the patio saying all the while " your ass can live outside just like that chicken of yours!" me: wtf does that even mean! - cops arrive on the balcony to find me hiding in the ice room and porkchop the great white grizzly bear destroying the room- cops- mam, your under arrest for destruction of property and DIP (drunk in pubic) dag: *grabs a remote off the table and squares up to fight.....i shit you not...* cops: *circling the enraged wildebeest, one goes in for the kill and nails a lucky blow to the back of her knee and she drops like a 900 pound bag of booze, shit and regret* your going to jail! me: oh snap! 20 mins later after filling out a report cops: ok have a nice night. me: wa....wait, whos going to help me clean..... cops: no me... *leaves* so there i sat, parking lot covered in furniture, 3rd floor could legally be turned into fema for government aid and 302 completely destroyed. me: *looks around......locks the doors and goes home*

[inhanf-archived]

03x11

I’m really curious as to what the pig ‘n a poke was.

There is. There’s a hill in Ireland where your car rolls UPHILL.

That’s fuckin trippy. Do not do hallucinogenics before visiting this mad house.

I’m sorry, WHAT?

Ah fuck, it’s a loop. A Tuesday loop.

Did the writers just know that Dean had to die soon so they threw all their ideas into this episode.

Tingly!!

This is comic fucking genius.

The ultimate Winchesters in sync.

OH COME ON!

And they’ve been bitten in the ass. Always make sure they’re dead.

Sam is so like John, obsessive in his research and quest.

How the hell is he gonna survive losing Dean for real.

03x12

That little bitch.

This is A Lot.

Very clever Sam.

That’s a baptism of fire for you Henriksen. Should have just believed em.

It is weird that they’re coming right for them. Is this the challenger to the throne or are they seeking Sam.

When did the tattoos happen?

Ruby!

Ooooh Lilith.

This is a stupid excuse for a fight scene.

Oh they’re gonna trap them in there! Clever plan. I retract the stupid statement.

Oh fuck. She’s tiny. And has white eyes.

03x13

As the season finale gets closer I get more hesitant to watch. These boys have been through enough. Castiel in Season 4 is my only driving force rn.

I’m so glad there’s still humour. These two goons are quality stress relief.

That’s not just a car, that’s Baby. She purrs.

The face idiots and whatever is living here is in for it now. You don’t take Sam from Dean.

Yes because now is when you suck face.

He has a bunker doesn’t he.

THE GAY LOVE QUOTE IS CANON WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS THIS SHOW!

03x14

After the joyous idiocy of the last episode this one is very somber. Excellent idea, good execution, not much for me to make snide comments on.

Dean is blind when it comes to John, he was conditioned to follow without questioning and it’s gonna get him into trouble now.

That dude needs major dental work.

Well that punched me right in the feels. Like I know he comes back, I’ve a loose knowledge of events in this show, but the brothers also go through a lot of crap and damnit I fell for the puppy dog eyes.

03x15

Actually you’re both wrong, the feathery git gets you out of it.

That car is parked very far forward in that space. Damn arrogant prick.

The walk from the shower to your clothes on Period Day 1.

Imma take a wild guess and say Lilith holds Deans contract.

Organ harvesting. This may be general human wackos instead of zombies. 🧟‍♂️

Dude it’s Dr Zombie. Harvesting organs to keep himself alive. Fucking excellent.

What?! No! He has 3 weeks left to live Sam!!

I guessed right! It is Lilith!

Death by hell hounds is not gonna be pretty is it.

Aaaaand I just jumped clear out of my skin. Well done Supernatural.

03x16

I have to watch this now, even though it’s past my bedtime and I’m already tired and grumpy. I’ll read some fluff on AO3 to console myself after.

Are they gonna use Carry On for the recap in every season finale?

Oh he’s a clever clever boy.

I love Bobby. ‘Do I look like a ditch-able prom date to you?’

Well fuck. Wanted Dead or Alive was a gut punch.

‘You’re almost Hells bitch, so you can see alla Hells other bitches.’

That’s a real fun knife. I also enjoy the holy water in the sprinkler system plan, very demon hunting in suburbia.

That was brutal. Both Deans death and Sam being so broken. I’m curious to see how they plan on ending S15 considering these two will always fight for each other and obviously continued doing so for another 12 seasons.

Imma go read the fic with the tiny Castiels in the gumball machine, I’m very shook. AO3

04x01

Right, let’s get the pain over with. Castiel has better be worth this.

I fucking love this song. *Shook Me*

That’s legit one of my worst nightmares, being buried alive.

Well damn Dean 😍 must’ve been some spanking to leave that mark.

Could they just leave the poor guy alone for two damn minutes.

I was waiting for the holy water. I feel like Bobby is cut from the same cloth as Mad Eye Moody, CONSTANT VIGILANCE.

Why do I get the feeling he remembers a lot more than that.

NEW RUBY!

Is it me or is Sam bigger?

C’mon now ya wee feathery git, make yourself known.

Sam doesn’t believe that he remembers nothing.

A CD player he may have been able to take but an iPod jack is just too much for our cassette living recently undead friend.

Pamela is fun! ‘You are so not invited.’

She saw his true form. Well shit.

Sam you said his name last season, what have you been imbibing to forget that. I thought this kid was a walking encyclopaedia of weird.

Sam definitely looks like he’s been hitting the ‘roids.

Well that’s a major new trick Sammy.

IT IS NEW RUBY!

The guy knows how to make an entrance.

Who can perceive his true form I wonder?

Holy tax accountant, lol.

He’s so perplexed at Deans self loathing.

04x02

That’s fair, I’d also be freaked out if an invincible dude in a trench coat told me I’d been saved by God.

New Ruby is very tiny.

‘Someplace safe ya idjit.’ I love that he has his own bunker.

‘You built a panic room?’ ‘I had a weekend off’

IN SYNC WINCHESTERS

Yay! My first apocalypse!

He makes a little fluttery noise when he appears, the cuteness just makes him more terrifying tbh.

Oh she’s trying to free Lucifer. Of course.

So really they’re just covering their own fuck ups. Lovely folks angels.

‘I dragged you out of Hell, I can throw you back in.’ <- I do not like this feathery git but this cruel Cas provides great scope for character development. I’m just hoping some of that is canon and not just fanfic.

04x03

Where the hell did Cas send him?!

The past, he’s in the past isn’t he.

John was a handsome dude.

Baby’s origin story 😍

‘Mom is a babe. I’m going to Hell. Again.’

Mary is badass.

This is adorable, meeting his grandparents.

That’s heartbreaking, she never wanted her kids raised hunters. And they were, in the worst way.

Well that was a lot.

Cas you’re gonna learn right quick that threatening Sammy is not a good move.

#SPNReactions #Supernatural Season 3 #Supernatural Season 4 #Gill Watches #supernatural

[sending-the-message]

The creatures of Mammoth Cave by KyBlu_I_s

Its recently been brought to my attention what Gunney has started to tell a few of our stories from when we ran the Kentucky Office of Paranomalies[sic]. That's actually the name of our branch. Each state has an office that's a perfect counterpart to ours. Well they did. Until a few months ago. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Keith. I'm a Chief Petty Officer, and these are MY versions of the stories. Gunney did a decent job of telling the Gluttony story. Although the first half was better than the second, but that's because he told it exactly like it happened. A little personal background;

I grew up in a broke ass family. My dad wasn't home because he worked two jobs to keep a roof on our heads. Mom was a drunken whore that was in and out of our lives. I couldn't play sports in school, because where I'm from that type of thing costs money. So, I read. And I read everything I could. I really loved to read about the macabre and the paranormal. By the time I was thirteen, I had read the local libraries entire section on paranormal and supernatural beings, rituals, magic, and ghosts. A little over four hundred books. But I started when I was seven. I would walk the eight blocks from my home to the library once a week with dad on Saturday morning, because he only had one job on the weekends. I would check out my limit, and usually find a way back to the library before Saturday for my next limit of books.

I graduated High school at the age of sixteen, having skipped sophomore and junior years. I waited for two years and joined the Navy. I knew Gunney from school, and we would hangout after school sometimes and play stupid kid video games til we passed out. So, when he told me he was enlisting, I figured that I would as well. Hell, they pay for college, train you for a career, and pay you while your active. Why not? Well, if not for Gunney I would have died. Several times over. So when he found a way for me to get off of that fucking ship, I was hella happy. I had wanted to study demonology in college anyway, and this way the government would actually pay for it!

Our first case was bad. Real bad. But you already know about that. See, what you don't know, is that even after Gunney left a year ago, I stayed. I'm here now. Alone. A single smartass against the evils of the wilderness. Let me tell ya, there's some freaky shit in Kentucky. Especially in the caves.

It was a crisp April morning when Gunney ordered us to assemble in the wretched bullpen. The overhead monitor displayed a torn and broken corpse. The head lay face down, the body chest up. The head had been twisted all the way around. Left arm ripped off and , and this is sick, shoved down the throat. The right arm lay broken, twisted and bloody barely attached. The legs were shredded and mangled so badly they no longer remotely resembled legs. The shredded remains if the legs looked more like a bad plate of chipped beef and raw burger meat.

" This was young miss Christa Jonas. She was seventeen years old. She was part of a six person group that took a discount tour of the Mammoth Caves. During the tour four of the six members were lost. Christa was the only one found. Her remains are on the way here so that Jerry here can perform an autopsy." Gunney paused, to point at our lone medical officer. He continued " Keith, do you recognize the injuries? Maybe have any idea what the hell got to thus poor girl?"

I shook my head as I wracked my brain for information, " No sir, I don't Gunney" I answered. I felt bad for leaving him in the lurch like that, but I really didn't have a clue what would have mutilated that girl so badly. Well, I didn't know what would multilateral her, and not eat more of her. Maybe we were looking at some type of previously unknown creature. My heart rate increased at the thought of being responsible for cataloging and naming a previously undiscovered animal, or being if another type...

As Gunney talked about the cave system, and ordered the others to get packed and armed, I went to the library of our new compound. We had more books on my favorite subjects than I had ever believed were printed. I quickly looked for anything that lived in caves, mines, or subterranean passageways. I found the book I was looking for, and carried it to a table. Taking a deep breath, I began to speed read, until I stopped on a description that chilled my bones. The creature was named a Cave Dwelling Ghoul. According to the book, the last one was thought to have been exterminated in the year 1909. However the way it kills is quite unique. Its known to take pleasure in the torture of young girls, often making them choke on pieces of their own bodies. It would then chew, but not eat a large portion of the body while the person choked to death, at witch point it would twist the head around twice. I quickly stood up and almost ran back to the bull pen. Gunney stood there waiting, and reading the case file.

" Gunney, I think I know what we have here. His many times was thus girls head turned? " I stammered, excited and full of dread.

" Uhm...It looks like twice. Yeah..twice. Why? What's that got to do with anything?" He looked at me like he expected some big speech, but I didn't have one.

" Its a CDG. A type of Ghoul that solely lives in caves. They were thought to be dead for over a hundred years. They can be killed, but its not easy. Iron bullets and thermite. Shoot them with iron, and then burn em. They'll be alive when the fire starts, just frozen. Iron to those fucks is like a massive dose of sucks to a human. It will paralyze them. However it won't wear off, til their bodies heal and the bullet is pushed out. Thermite is about the only thing that burns hot enough to kill them. They have poison glands in the base of their claws and in that mouths. A bite or scratch will knock a full grown man out for hours. When he wakes up he will be sick as a fucking dog for a few days. Nasty little bastards. Never even rumoured to be in Kentucky. Kinda weird that a species that's not indigenous and thought to be extinct suddenly shows up. So soon after...ya know."

He knew. We tried not to talk about what happened to our group, but it was an unspoken book mark in time. Like a piece of corn in a turd, just there, rather you want it to be or not. We knew that what we fought that day wasn't human. Even the civilians weren't human anymore, but it was still a tough loss.

Gunney told me to go get the thermite and try to find a source of iron ammunition while he briefed the rest of the men on what we were going to be fighting this time. I went to the armory and found the thermite. Iron ammo was another story. See, the last thing to use iron projectiles were civil war cannons. Well, a few other large bore weapons after that, but very few. I had an idea that maybe salting the lead with iron powder might work, but I couldn't risk our remaining troops on a might. So, needles to say I was fucking through the roof thrilled when I found a local black smith. I called and gave him the measurements of the projectiles that we needed and he agreed to make them. On barter no less. He wanted a hundred grams of thermite to speed his forge up and that's all. Well, it still took the man twenty eight hours to make four hundred rounds. Then I had to load them into shells. So, It was thirty three hours after the debriefing before we were actually ready to go. Since it was late, we decided to get up at 0430 and head out. We all went to bed at a little before 2300.

At 0445 the next morning we were up,loaded and heading out. It was a four hour drive from base to the Mammoth Caves state park. We arrived as the police that had closed the property off to tourists were changing shifts, so getting in was a fucking chore.

Almost an hour after arriving, we were unloading the black Humvees and heading for the main entrance. The cave we entered was honestly...Mammoth! No shit, right? The ceiling was almost thirty feet up, stalagmites and stalactites reaching up and down like crooked teeth in a rotten maw. The silence of the caves was deafening. I could hear the others hearts beating. Well, maybe it was in my head.

We walked to the coordinates that the tour guides provided as the last place the entire group was together. We set our GPS lock to those coordinates, and split up with our night vision activated. We decided to walk in a single direction for five minutes before returning to the point we marked. We did this four times before the first blur of movement was seen. Johnson saw a small man shaped thing run just out if his field of view.

" Report to my position. I have movement. I think its a single entity, but I can't be sure." He called out through the com unit. We all looked to our phones to see where he was on the map. He was less than fifty feet from me, so I was the first to arrive. When I got to his position, he was visibly shaken. His pants leg ripped in three slices torn horizontally across his right calf. Thankfully the thing hadn't touched skin, because Johnson was big ass dude, and I didn't want to be the one to evacuate his ass from the caves.

Gunney was next arrive, and quickly spotted the torn leg. After asking if Johnson had been scratched, he decided to call the tour guide on the radio to turn off the tourist lights. The cave went dark as Gunney told the others to remain in NV. The rest if our crew arrives one at a time a minute or two apart.

When we were all in the same spot, I whispered " Listen guys, these things are fast as lightening on crack. They're venomous and vicious. They want to torture us and then chew our flesh. That's how they feed. They chew, but only drink the blood and liquefied fat that they spill from our mangled bodies. Shoot them anywhere. It doesn't matter. The rounds shouldn't pass through them, they're low power and heavy bullets. Once the iron is in the skin, they're frozen solid. Then we have about eleven hours to burn them. The bodies won't burn unless we can powder them with the thermite and use the magnesium strips to start that on fire." I summed up as " Be careful, aim true. We don't have a lot of ammo. "

The men all nodded in agreement and left off across the caves. The next time I would see any of them, three would be unconscious, and badly beaten. But that's for tomorrows post.

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