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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

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Janus, have you and Remus hung out other then when you go to fake therapy? You should ask him out? Keep it open, maybe not outright ask him for a date but to hang out!

(Words: 2140)

Janus: "Oh you know me anon. I am so totally known for asking people to hang out. Yes me and Remus have been eeeverywhere together /s No we have never hung out.......But I suppose you have been very wise so far. So I shall try and go ut of my comfort zone and ask him he would like to spend time together"

They were in that same spot they always stood after the fake therapy. Where they were supposed to part ways. Remus had his phone out, checking the bus times. Janus knew he had to say something now or else yet another week would pass and he would never have the courage to ask.

"Do ehm is you- fuck-" Janus wanted to smash his head open on a rock. He was a idiotic mess who couldn't even say a simple sentence.

"What?" Remus looked at him with a smile. Jan swore he had specifically practiced that smile so it made him melt internally every single time.

"Do you maybe possibly have anything to do today?"

"Oh yeah all booked up with exorcising demons out of old ladies' houses. you know how it is!" He let out a short screechy laugh "Come on Snakey y'know I don't have a job or any plans on robbing banks right now. Of course I'm free!"

"Noted. Then I am totally not asking you to perhaps do something like going to the movies?"

Remus' eyes widened and he shone up into a huge toothy smile "YES!" He grabbed Janus' hand while flapping with his other hand "You gotta be psychic or something! I've been wanting to see this movie made by a director I'm hyperfixating on but I didn't wanna go alone and my sister is still out of town SO this is great!!"

He didn't waste another second. He dragged Janus with him as he began to very quickly walk while continuing to stim.

All Janus could do was stare at their hands. Their palms pressed against each other. His love's thumb brushing up and down his skin. He had never been happier over forgetting his gloves at home.

His cheeks stayed rosy red the entire walk. It was like walking on air. He didn't even realize Remus was still speaking until they got the cinema.

"-And that's why I thought it would have been better if the hamster had died!" He concluded.

".............Fascinating" Janus replied hoping it was a good answer.

"I know right!"

He looked down and realized they were still holding hands. His happy expression instantly dropped as he let go of Janus like he was made of fire.

"Oh fuck buckets! I should have asked if you were okay with like ehhh touch beforehand! Now you're gonna cut my head off!" Remus gasped out.

"Indeed, I do now hate you and I have already hired an assassin to kill you" Janus replied sarcasticly "It's okay, I promise"

Remus let out a breathe of relief in the most cartoon balloon leaking air way possible. "Neat!"

It was 3 pm on a Thursday so there weren't any people in line. Remus didn't even give his friend a chance to pay for his own ticket. He also got a big ass popcorn and a bag of eyeball candies.

He dumped the snacks into the arms of Janus as his eyes caught on a poster on the wall advertising another movie. He jumped up and down while pointing at it, like the excitement was too much to be contained in his body.

"It's my sister! She told me she would be in this one!" The poster didn't show the actresse's face since she had on a cloke to look dark and myserious (tm) "That's her I swear on the last human tooth I have!"

"I believe you. You could be her perfect stunt double"

Remus shoot his arms out "That's what I've been saying too!!! You really are a psychic! Being a stunt double is literally the dream job! I get to pretend to be killed in so many ways! I get to jump off of buildings!! Sadly she mostly does dramas and romances and all that boring stuff"

"Well I for one would love seeing you get stabbed on film" He held his hand over his heart as he said it.

"Omg snakey!! Thank you!! Means a lot!"

He had that wide smile on his lips again. Janus wished he was able to make him smile like that every day.

"Oh the movie is starting soon! Ahhhh exciting! Horror really is the best genre!"

Janus paled "Horror?"

"Yeah! I told you all about the movie on the way here remember? You're okay with horror right?"

"O-Of course! I have watched halloween alien on elm street like 5 times!" He lied.

Remus chuckled "Sure sounds like it"

They went into the screening room. Ads were running on the big screen. They were the only ones there. Remus found their seats right at the back in a corner. He sat down and triumphantly put his feet on the seat in front of him.

"Look at that snakey! We've got the whole room to ourselves! Only...."

His eyes suddenly stopped and shifted to stare out into air. His happy expression slowly disappeared leaving a hollow look on his face. He moved his legs up to his chest and sat completely still.

".....Only us......"

Janus slumped down in the seat next to his. Remus leaned away in his seat so he was further from his friend.

"Indeed. I could poison you and no one would be here to stop me. But I won't...yet" He hoped a joke would make his love lighten up again.

Remus forced a halfhearted smile "Sure that"

The movie started. Janus was already stress eating popcorn from fear by the time the first scene had ended. Which only made him even more stressed over making Remus think he was a fat gluttonous disgusting mess! Which he was! But he didn't want him to know that!!

Whenever he glanced over to Remus he looked just the same, As if the movie was fucking mamma mia or something.

He didn't want to seem unclassy and close his eyes like a 5 year old so he tried to comb his hair in front of his eyes instead. He couldn't stop his racing heartbeat or his unsteady hands though. He didn't do well to loud sounds. Or screaming voices.

He jumped in his chair at an extra gory scare. The popcorn landed all over his body. His cheeks went red enough to be mistaken for a ladybug.

Remus glanced over at him "You don't have to hide that you're scared y'know. The audience reaction is like half the fun"

"Me? Scared? I haven't felt scared since I buried a body in 1967! This is just how I show my appreciation for movies!" He blurted out the lie in a panic.

His love threw his head back as he let out a loud laugh. He couldn't stop as he buried his head in his hands. His shoulders moved in rhytm to his giggles. It seemed to calm his nerves a bit.

"Holy shit snakey that was such a horrible lie! You're such a dork! I say that with affection I promise"

Janus couldn't help but chuckle along "Dork actually means something really dirty. I know since I was practically married to my dictionary when I was youn-"

"WHALE PENIS! I know!! You're the first one who also knows!"

"I suppose that means we're soulmates now" Janus couldn't help but say it.

"Penis soulmates!"

Janus sighed "Yes"

In the movie a man's torso was ripped from his body. Remus flapped his hands. Janus let out a quiet whimper.

"I could infodump a bit if that would make you less scared"

Janus leaned closer to respond but Remus instantly flinched back. He made sure to keep keeping his distance "I would love to hear"

He shone up into a smile. It wasn't quite as carefree and happy as the other ones but it was still his smile and Janus had caused it. It made him feel warm.

He started rambling about the director's other movies and how the themes tied in with this movie. About how the director had studied to be a doctor so he know enough about biology to make all of the gore extra realistic. About how the movie soundtrack's added to the scare even though they were often silly. All while stimming. Sometimes he went quiet to focus on the film while Janus curled in on himself and closed his eyes.

Honestly Janus could have heard him go on for hours but sadly the movie eventually ended. And they eventually got out of the cinema. And eventually the snacks the shared while sitting on a bench outside also ended. And the conversation died out.

It was only around 5 pm but the sky had already started to darken. The streetlamps were getting lit one by one, and a few people were standing in line for the next movie. Janus feared having to say goodbye.

Luckily he didn't have to as Remus quietly asked "Could you like follow me home? The apartement is only 15 minutes and a minor murder spree away"

"Of course!" He replied a bit too excitedly.

He made sure to not walk too close as to not make him flinch again. Remus started to subconsciously hymm on a song after some time of silence. Janus couldn't stop feeling over the moon at the fact that he was hanging out with someone! And he seemed to like him!! And he was in love with him no less!!!

"Snakey I think I gotta admit something kinda dorky-"

"Is it the murder in 1967? We've all been there"

"Actually it was in 1987. Okay but really.....The only friends I've ever really had has been my sister and my ex, and some online friends here and there I guess but we lost contact really quickly. What I mean is that I'm really rusty on this whole friend thing and I'm just glad that you don't get annoyed by my infodumping or stimming or....or the whole me!"

Janus' eyes widened and he slowly let up into a laugh "Oh! Oh I have been so worried for nothing then! I've never had any friends, at all! This was literally the first time I ever went to a movie with another person! We're the same!"

Remus giggled "We really are penis soulmates!"

"I am begging you to not let that become a thing"

"Too late! It already is! We're both friendless dorks you motherfucker!! Of course we're penis soulmates!"

Janus sighed "I am suddenly so glad we are close to your place so I can get away from you.....That was a lie"

Remus lightly punched his shoulder "Better be. Or else I'd have to kidnap you!"

He stopped in front of a series of building of obviously quite glamorous apartements. Janus was honestly starting to wonder if he had a sugar daddy and or sold drugs. Or else he had no idea how he could afford all of this.

They stopped right in front of the entrance. Remus crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Janus fiddled with his sleeves. Neither of them wanted to say goodbye.

Janus shuly glanced at his love's face. His birtmarks which he so wanted to press kisses to. His fluffy hair he would love to nuzzle into. His full lips which he thought about running his finger over every time he looked at them. He was beautiful. Just beautiful.

"Sooo....I guess I will either see you in hell or in fake therapy next week?" Remus asked.

"For sure"

He awkwardly opened the door "Well I will see you then then!" He did fingerguns "Bye penis soulmate!"

Janus rolled his eyes while waving "Bye.....phallus companion!"

The door closed and he was left in the silence. It took a few second and then

"YES! OH I did it! I survived! Aphrodite would be so proud of me!!"

Janus had to sit down. He was going to explode. He couldn't stop moving his hands around. He was going to pass out. He had never been happier. He deserved a whole soup bowl of ice cream.

He took off his beanie to drag his hand through his hair. He felt breathless from happiness as he stared up at the sky. He had never felt more in love.

He looked at where he imagined you would stand if you had a corporeal body.

"So I suppose your advice worked quite well. It did sound like he wanted to hang out again...So anon....or whatever voice that is in my head that asks me things......Do you have any suggestions on what we should do on our next hangout?"

#remus sanders #sanders sides #janus sanders #dukeceit #demus #ask #its 3 am #im gonna go sleep #mini fic

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alastwhore · 4 years

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Corrective Measures (Alastor x Reader) 18+

Prompt: Alastor finds your fanfiction/fanart of him and offers to show you what he’s really like. (Smut)

~~~

You weren’t sure how he showed up, if you were being honest.

One day you walked into your kitchen to get a snack, and found him rummaging around in your fridge, demon form and all.

It was surprising, to say the least, and you may or may not have screamed bloody murder.

He was, evidently, expecting you to react in such a manner, and seemed to find it quite humorous. When you had finally calmed down and reclaimed your bearings, you managed to ask Alastor just how the fuck he made his way into your home. It had been three months now, and try as you might , you still couldn’t get him to answer that question.

You were understandably baffled that a fucking cartoon deer demon was in your house, but some things would never receive an explanation.

He had made himself quite comfortable in your home, and had set up shop there. At least he didn’t eat all the food, you thought to yourself. It would have been odd enough that Alastor was in your residence, let alone if he, for whatever god-forsaken reason, decided to eat you out of house and home, too. Thankfully, he materialized his own meals, so you didn’t have to worry about it.

He had, however, gotten quite nosy with your personal belongings as of late. He would pilfer through your cabinets, files, clothes, and god knows what else. He reorganized them half the time, because they “weren’t properly indexable,” whatever the hell that meant. You were just flat out lucky he hadn’t found your fanfiction yet. Not that it wasn’t good, but it was certainly something that he didn’t need to see. Especially considering the majority was about him doing some less than innocent things.

That luck ran out, however, as you re-entered your home one day after class, finding him lounging on the sofa with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Darling, you never told me you were a writer,” and you felt the blood drain from your face. You knew better than to hope that he hadn’t read what you thought he had read. You knew better than to hope at all with him around. Still, though, you had to ask.

“Aha, what did you read, Alastor?” Your voice laced with uncertainty.

“I think you know,” he gave you a knowing look. You laughed nervously.

“Which one was it, do I even want to know?”

“Lets just say that you need a bit of help in the anatomy department, you have things somewhat off,” and he sat your computer down on the table, standing to his full height, staring at you with a look you had never seen him wear before. He looked very predatory in that moment, and you surely felt like prey.

“Mm? How so?” Your nerves were screaming at you to get the hell out of dodge, but you were rooted to the spot.

“Well, first of all, I wouldn’t have acted that way. You have me written like some kind of sexual deviant, of which I am not. Secondly, as flattering as it is to know you think of my bodily proportions so often, the measurements were far from correct.”

You gulped. You were screwed. There was no other way to put it.

“How are you, uh, gonna correct me?” You questioned. It was no surprise that Alastor was less than fond of your fanfiction, but the way he would modify your misperceptions was something you weren’t sure you could handle.

“Oh, darling, it’ll be in a way you will enjoy very much, I assume,” his grin became more sly, his eyes mere slits as he loomed over you.

You had nowhere to go, he had backed you into a wall and you couldn’t move an inch.

“And if my assumptions are correct, which they most likely are, you seem to have a thing for me, yes?” You couldn’t help but nod your head ‘yes’. When looking in his eyes, there wasn’t a single way you could possibly lie to him.

“Aha, very interesting indeed,” as he finished his statement, he leaned down to you, his face hovering right above yours. He grasped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting your face up to view him, and kissed you softly.

You gasped into his mouth, but kept your arms still beside you. As he pulled away from you slowly, your eyes locked onto his.

“So, was that enough to give you an idea of what I have planned? Or do I need to reiterate myself,” he gave you a knowing look.

“I, hah, I think I got it.”

He hmm’ed, “Good,” and he was sweeping you off your feet, literally, as he took you to your bedroom. He shut the door with his foot as he carried you to your bed, carefully placing you down onto the comforter.

Something told you that he was going to do most of the talking. Then again, he usually did. It was a miracle if you could ever get him to shut up. For once you were thankful for it, though, because you had no no clue what you would say, anyway.

“So first off, dear, in that lovely little piece of writing I was privy to, you had me as taking you,” he gave you a look, “up against the wall. I’m sorry but that simply will not do. The fact of the matter is that any partner would be far to inconvenienced physically to truly, ahem, enjoy it. Not to mention, with the extraordinary height difference between us, there would be no way facial contact could happen.”

Well, you supposed you hadn’t thought of that. But it was fanfiction. What did it matter if the physics were wrong? A lot, evidently. At least to Alastor.

“So that is why, darling,” he continued, “I will be having my way with you on the mattress instead. It’s much more comfortable than a wall, you see.”

Uhm what?

Your eyes went wide. Now even if you wanted to talk, you were absolutely speechless.

Alastor must’ve noticed your look of befuddlement because he responded, “That is what you wanted, right? I may be a predator, but I would never take advantage of someone in that way,” Oh well at least he had standards.

“Yes, I… I want it. I want you.”

That was what he had wanted to hear. He joined you on the mattress, placing his hand on your shoulder, leaning in close to you.

“Isn’t this so much better than all those silly things you’ve written?”

Okay now that pissed you off a bit. Yeah, your fanfiction may not have been sublime, but it was certainly not silly.

“Well, no, not really,” you retorted. Alastor raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It’d be a lot better if you would actually, you know, do something.”

“Dearest, some things needn’t be rushed,” he seemed taken aback.

“Yeah? Well some things needn’t take all day,” you mocked him.

Oh that set him off. Suddenly he was on you, pushing you into the mattress while removing your top. He ran his hands down your body, over your still-clothed bust.

“As much as I adore seeing modern day lingerie, I do think this will get in the way of our activities, don’t you?” He snapped his fingers and your bra was gone, chest laid bare before him.

“Now isn’t that better? Much easier to work with,” he appraised your body, his eyes grazed over your entire body, focusing on your bare breasts. He clearly had control over his body, but that didn’t stop the fact that a blush still crept onto his cheeks.

“Ah, yeah, it’s better. But what about you? Don’t you need to remove some of that too?” It was only fair, after all.

“Oh, I suppose you’re right. Just a moment,” he removed his coat and laid it neatly on a nearby chair, snapping his fingers to remove his bow tie. Turning around, he began undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, eventually unfastening them all and removing it.

You still couldn’t really process that this was actually happening. In your room. With Alastor. But here you were, waiting to be devoured (you hoped in a good way).

“Is this what you expected? Surely it must surpass expectations,” he smiled at you, brows raised. This time he received an affirmation, much to his obvious pleasure.

“Yeah, you’re different from what I, uh, expected,” in a good way you wanted to say, but you didn’t want to stroke his ego any more than necessary.

He was exceedingly tall and lanky, all long limbs and wiry muscle. His slim waist smoothed out to slim hips, making his chest appear even more broad than it already was.

“Of course it’s good, darling. That reminds me, in that adorable little piece of writing, it did see to me that you quite enjoyed me calling you that. Is that right?”

The way your body betrayed you was more than enough of an answer for him, your face heating up in an obvious blush as he asked the question. You didn’t even have to answer him, you knew he could already tell.

“Oh, I’ll take that as a definite yes, then,” he moved onto the bed, leaning over your body and making full use of the considerable size difference.

“Why don’t you touch me, doll, I don’t bite,” oh you were quite sure he did, but that was another story entirely. You willingly obliged him, enjoying the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers.

“You know, I don’t let just anyone have the privilege of touching me, not just sexually, as this would be, but otherwise. It take quite a lot for me to be comfortable enough with them,” he confessed to you. Although it wasn’t really a confession, he wasn’t vulnerable like he should be during one. No, it was almost like his telling you was a hold in and of itself, yet another way to have power over you. You didn’t complain, though.

He bent down to you, running his mouth over your neck, over your pulse, drinking in your scent.

“Darling,” there was that word again, “Do you know how absolutely captivating you are?” When he pulled back to look at you, his eyes were different. They were darker, somehow, more predatory, and dare you say it, lustful.

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you. He was so attractive like this.

“Alastor,” you begged, “Touch me, please.”

And he couldn’t help but give in to you. It was so very rare that he felt this way, why shouldn’t he indulge a little? He moved his hand over your breasts, stroking his fingers over the sensitive area and causing you to writhe.

“This, my dear, is an area I have little experience in, so you’ll have to forgive any mistakes I happen to make,” wait what?

“Wait, I thought you were going to correct my ideas? You said that they misrepresented you,” you were confused. He had most definitely said that.

“Yes, and I am correcting you! But I do have very little concept of this. Those things are not mutually exclusive, dearest.”

You supposed he was right, in the end.

He trailed his hands down your body, down to your pants you had worn that day.

“Be a dear and lift your hips for me.” You complied with his request, allowing him to unfasten your bottoms and pull them down your legs, folding and setting them to the side.

You felt exposed under his watchful gaze. He was still mostly clothed, and here you were in nothing but your underwear. Something about the power dynamic thrilled you.

He ran a finger down your clothed sex, enjoying the shudder than ran through your body.

“Is that what you wanted, doll? For me to touch you here?” You nodded. “Good,” and then he was pulling off the undergarment, laying it on top of your other clothes.

“My, would you look at how simply divine you are,” he spoke as his eyes devoured your bare sex. You were surely dripping by now, you could feel the slick running down your folds, and were positive it was painting a lovely picture for Alastor.

Taking a quick glance at his crotch, you could already see a sizable tent forming in his slacks. The thought of him getting that way because of you certainly didn’t help your predicament.

“Alastor?”

“Hmm, yes? What is it?”

“Take off your pants, please.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Dear, what did I tell you about patience?”

“Alastor,” you chided him, “You’re hard.”

He glanced down at himself. “Oh, it appears I am. What about that,” as he looked back at you.

“Do something about it,” you hissed.

“Very well then,” and he snapped his fingers, the remaining articles of clothing gone. Now fully undressed, he leaned onto the bed, somehow still holding dominance even with his lack of attire. You couldn’t fully see his dick and it was bothering you. You were sure this was intentional.

However, after making you squirm for a good minute, he did finally move. And when you saw it you could’ve cried. It was so large and gorgeous and weeping for attention. You were amazed at how he could stand to not do anything about it for so long. You would’ve been begging by that point, but he had the self control not to.

You couldn’t help but gawk at his dick. You couldn’t help but to imagine what it would feel like inside of you, how nicely it would stretch and fill you to the brim.

“See something you like, dear,” he gave himself a slow stroke with his eyes locked onto yours. The sound that left your mouth was nothing short of pathetic and embarrassing.

“You poor thing, I guess I should tend to you, shouldn’t I?” He leaned himself over you, brushing his hand against your upper thigh, so very close to where you needed it. You canted your hips up, attempting to receive some kind of friction against your sex.

He took mercy on you, sliding a single long finger up your slit, collecting your wetness on it. He eyed you carefully, making sure you had the reaction he had planned for.

“Hmm, you certainly are eager now, aren’t you? So tell me, should I prepare you beforehand, or would you prefer a stretch when I enter you.”

You were weak. Just the idea of it sent a spark through your core.

“Ah, Al, could you maybe,” you motioned with your hands, trying to gesture what you couldn’t get yourself to say. For once, he didn’t force you to reiterate a statement, and he deftly slid a finger into you.

You cried out, feeling him curl and flex inside you, brushing against your walls in such a skillful manner. For someone with, to quote, very little experience, he was making you feel awfully good very fast.

Seeing how easily you responded to him, he added another, stretching you open and preparing you for him. He curled his fingers inside you, sliding them in you so wonderfully. Your hips were bucking into his hand, you needed him. It had only been a moment of this, but you were so wet and ready for him, slickness sliding down onto your thighs, soaking through the sheets.

When he removed his fingers you could’ve cried, afraid that he was going to continue to tease you.You were surprised when he lowered his body to yours, then, his hand grasping his cock and guiding it to your entrance.

You felt it part your folds, the tip slipping easily into you. You fluttered around him, anticipation nearly doing you in.

“That okay, darling?” As much as he clearly needed this, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn’t want to hurt you, even if he was an occasionally vile creature.

“Mn, yes. More please,” you begged.

“Whatever you say, dear,” and he thrust himself into you, all the way to the hilt. He seemed surprised you could take all of him. Truth be known, you were surprised as well. But you were oh so glad that you did.

He stared at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to adjust to him. Sweet of him, you thought to yourself, But I really don’t need it.

“Could you move, please?”

“Of course.”

And then he pulled himself back, almost all he way out, before thrusting himself back into you again. He wasn’t quick in his motions, not wanting to wear you, or himself, out too quickly. He wanted to savor this, he wanted you to savor this. So his thrusts were deep and calculated, pushing upward against your walls in the most delightful of ways. You were keening underneath him, could’ve cried from how good he felt inside you.

“Alastor, you stretch me so good,” you gasped, your hips moving on their own.

“That’s because you take all of me so well, sweetheart. I can see just how much you would enjoy me filling you to the brim.”

The only reply you could make was an unrestricted moan of his name. You didn’t even notice how you clenched around him, causing his hips to jerk out of rhythm, you were too caught up in your own pleasure, so close to the brink already. Your eyes were glazed over in lust, focused on his face, flushed from exertion.

Moving his hand down to where the two of you were joined, he began circling your clit with his fingers, eager to bring you to your release. That touch was all you needed, and suddenly you were clenching around him, pulling him in closer as you came on his cock. You whined under him, feeling a few tears run down your face as he continued to massage your clit through your orgasm.

The sight of you coming undone under him, because of him, had Alastor nearing his peak as well. It had been so very long since he had last done this kind of thing, and the heat and slickness of you had him losing himself. He pumped himself into you as he felt himself tense, pleasure building until he was thrown over the edge.

He grit his teeth, groaning as his body stilled, his cum spilling into you in bursts. His eyes were shut as the feeling washed over him, eternal smile gone from his features as he lost himself inside you.

As he came down from his high, panting heavily, he slumped over you further, his body relaxing.

“Was that as good as expected, dearest?” Despite being out of breath, he still managed to keep his voice smooth, which wasn’t all that shocking, really.

“Much better, thank you,” you told him as he pulled himself out of you, laying himself across the bed beside of you.

“Good to know,” he played idly with your hair, brushing it back and moving it out of your face. You felt exhaustion overcome you suddenly, but like always, Alastor was quiet until he suddenly wasn’t.

“Now, darling, earlier when I was reading your fiction, I came across something involving my tentacles. Care to elaborate on that?”

You could’ve died.

Also available on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/22370695

#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #fanfic #fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin blog #hazbin fanfic

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lovetheangelshadow · 4 years

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N’Pressions: Monkie Kid

So I finally got around to seeing the two part pilot of Lego’s new television series: Monkie Kid. On YouTube. Because cartoon network is an ass when it comes to Lego franchises. And yes I’m still sore about you screwing with Nexo Knight’s 3rd season schedule! Anyway, I guess to get the Chinese audience invested, Lego decided to base its newest sets of one of the most well-known Chinese Legends Sunwu Kong aka the Monkey King. Admittedly I’m not full hoard into Hollywood’s recent habits of capitulating to the Chinese market of late largely because a part of me feels like it’s holding the entertainment industry back despite what people claim it to be. But that’s another series of thoughts for another time.

Lego has decided to do something of a sequel to the legend rather than a direct retelling. And they decided to go 2D animation instead of their usual CGI. Don’t get me wrong. I am not against many of their shows and specials being in CGI especially when you consider just how far Ninjago’s animation has come since season 10. And it’s clear there is a very heavy anime style inspiration for it. And if I may gush about this for a little-the animation is one of the best things about this special. It is very fluid and expressive and many of the action scenes are continuous shots rather than jump cuts-which is no surprise since it is the same studio that has given us Rise of TMNT-a show I have mixed feelings on but more positive than negative. And I am very thankful for it. Not because it’s been a while since we’ve really had TV animation like this-but I feel Monkee Kid would not have worked as well as it could have if it had been CGI. Most of its humor, dialogue, and design hugely benefits from the freedom of exaggeration that 2D provides. True there is a lot of embellished appearances for the characters however, unlike a lot of current western cartoons right now there is a bit of theming to them. For example-much of Red Son’s expressions deal with fire in some form and he’s either super angry or super worshipful. Princess Iron Flail uses wind and is often dialed back into a regal stoicness. Mei flips between abundantly joyful and creepily murderous while surrounded by hues of green. MK is very Tex Avery with hues of yellow, etc etc. Its small touches like those that can help sell the character even without much backstory. Speaking of which-I do enjoy from what we have of the main cast so far. MK is a Sun Wukong enthusiast and eats up Teng’s legends. He’s also a bit of a slacker with a smart mouth. My biggest concern right now though is Mei and Sandy because right now they didn’t get to do much and were mostly vehicles for MK. My personal favorite is Red Son and his family dynamic. It’s pretty clear he adores and worships both of his parents but so far has not gotten much in return despite it appears so far he’s done the most work from the bull drones, the magic gauntlet that lets them use the Staff, and Demon Bull’s armor. He’s also the most entertaining to watch both being hilarious and dangerous at the same time. And Tumblr has already shipped him with MK. Seriously people?

The weakest part would be the story though. It’s a pretty basic “ancient evil returns and the next generation of heroes must fight him/find the original hero to stop them only for them to have to do it themselves”. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does feel a bit rushed especially in the second half especially with MK able to summon a giant monkey mech and almost total kill Demon Bull. I’m not entirely sure where the story could go from there from such a high peak. I know the point is to tell the sets, and yet they might have rushed out the story to accommodate the first wave too soon. It could make all other episodes seem weaker by comparison. And that is a bit of a shame because theirs is clearly more story to be told from the setup. Mei seems to have dragon powers and Pigsy and Sandy have some kind of history together. Also there seems to be a hint of fatherly relationship between Pigsy and MK. Like why else would he be willing to take MK to Flower Fruit Mountain or feel really emotional after believing MK was killed by Iron Flail. Still I am very curious to see where they’re going to take this because it has been a long time since I could enjoy a show that was just fun but not stupid. I’m Noctina Noir, and I’m one Nox of a Nobody.

#monkie kid #sun wukong #lego #n'pressions

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roses-ruby · 5 years

Text

Desperandum Victum Chapter 2

Jimin x Female Reader

Genre: Demon AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut (future chapters), Mature, Slow Burn

Warnings: The story will get really fucking dark, including themes of incest, cannibalism, rape, murder, slavery, gore, yandere, religion, and way more oof. This chapter has mentions of violence and gore at the end.

Word Count: 10,129

Summary: You’ve had a traumatizing hard life and you move to a new town for new beginnings. But what if this town was hiding secrets of it’s own?

A/N: Sorry I’m late, this was supposed to be out hours ago but I just got home and don’t know how to use the fucking queue. This was originally due weeks ago, but I redid the story 3 times because I didn’t like how it kept turning out hahahaha wrote over 34k words and for what??? Anyway, last boring chapter I promise! Shit’s about to hit the fan ya’ll. Unedited, sorry, let me know of you find any mistakes!

Buying an old house was perdition disguised as a home.

Jun scoured through the wires of the electrical system. FallHaven weather circumstances were something he was cautioned about beforehand. Days consisted of hard-hitting heat, while the dusks were frigid and aloof. The outdated HVAC wiring had made the temperatures of the self-contained rooms a roller coaster, never knowing how severely the ventilation of said room would get tropical or glacial. Behind him, beyond the croaking and crickets; laid his back-porch barrier, it’s paint chipping from the fractured foundation. He previously spent $1000 to fix the asbestos grit around the house, and just yesterday he made a call to confirm the rumors of lead paint. Never has he regretted anything more than not contacting a house inspector prior the move.

Closing the chaotic cabinet of cables, Jun huffs, patting the few beads of sweat with the bottom of his tank top. He’ll ask uncle Alp about it in the morning. Maybe he should start a fire tonight. Taking a few steps to his back door, he opens it and squints at the hallway’s light. Locking the knob, he turns around, treading into the hall leading into the living room, before he stops in front of your decrepit door.

Right after you stepped into the house, you shut yourself in your room. Not responding to any of his inquiries or pleads. The hours had passed on in silence, and the house seemed too lonely for the night. Your food was left untouched on the table. Wanting you to come out, he had made your favorite stew with the produce he bought today. Its rich spice had glided throughout the capacity. He knew it was fruitless, and he tried to be patient, but his mind glimmered with hope that you’ll come out your door in any moment, drool at the side of your mouth, ogling his food like a bear ogles at honey. He chuckled at the image.

But it didn’t come true. You hadn’t come out. You hadn’t even made a sound, and that to him was worrisome more than anything. As someone who always had a comment on everything, much to Jun’s displeasure, to see you so mute reminds him of those days. The worst fucking mistake of his life. A nightmare that often visits him still, making a nest in his subconscious like a fatal tumor. And then there’s the wounds on your wrist.

Jun wasn’t an impatient man; high off his own ego plenty to break down your protective barrier. It was something he had to teach himself, just like most of the things in his life, coming from a place where you don’t learn anything from anyone, but see it all anyway. Yet his intolerance for desolation splintered the shield that was his reasoning. He grew up this way. A string of impulsive verdicts-results of mental burdens, dissociating him from himself. They could only lead to tragedy and he’s had abundant amounts of that serving. So instead he’ll pride himself in being cautious, especially when it comes to you.

Staring at the imbedded wooden material, he starts fretting about your bruise. The color is probably richer and unusual. You hadn’t even let him look properly, and there’s no aid in your room. Biting his nails, he contemplates urgently of what to do. Teenagers are impossible, he sighs, you were much easier to handle when you were a kid. Not to mention cuter.

That’s when it hits him. He’ll sing that song you love, just like he used to when you were a kid! Yet he cringes as soon as he thinks it. It’s been a few years, and you were way older now. Still, it worked before, it worked during that nightmare. He soundlessly pleads with the god you believe in.

Quietly clearing his throat, he hums almost inaudibly. Can’t believe I’m getting warmed up for this, he reflects. If you don’t come out subsequently, he’ll die of grief or shame. Whichever hits him first. Pacing back a bit, away from your heavy door, he slowly begins to sing,

“Somewhere over the rainbowww-,”

…

“Waaa-y up high”

“There's a land that I heard of once, in a lullaby…”

“Somewhere over the rainbowww-, skies are blue,”

…

“And the dreams that you dare to dream…”

“…really do come true…”

A second passed. Then 10…eventually 30.

2 minutes had passed.

He looks down, dejected. Despair coursing his veins, he lets out a heavy breath; he didn’t want to go through this once more.

The lock clicks open!

His head jumps up to face the door being pulled in and your timid figure walking out. He wants to cry and give you a huge hug; wrap you around in his arms with love and comfort, but he doesn’t have the heart to scare you again, so he just stands there as you do too. You stare at him with meek eyes, the dark bags laying just beneath them pull at the strings of his heart.

Pulling his thoughts together he softly speaks to you,

“Hey”

He’s not sure what to say though

Does he question who that lady was? Does he ask about your wrist? Or dinner? Should he drop the topic and make a joke about something entirely different instead? Which option would make you open up? He’s as naïve as he was 3 years ago.

“Hi” you whisper

“Listen I know you don-”

“I don’t know” you interrupt Jun, “I don’t know who that lady was and I don’t want to”

“I’m gonna talk to some people about her tomorrow, someone should know” he cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in comfort, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let her come near you again”

You stare at the floor, not saying a word while Jun analyzes even the tiniest twitch of your nose

“Can I look at your wrist, princess?”

Shutting your eyes, you tense your shoulders. It’s all right, it’s just Jun you think, as you bring your wrist into view. The both of you were examining the purple blue hues around the skin together. Jun touches it lightly with his digits making you flinch, so he backs up before marginally trying yet again. Making contact with your cold casing, he shudders and averts his head before he grabs your fingers in his own and tugs your hand back down. He can’t come to terms with it still like a run-away, and it’s the one thing he deters from. How much of a coward he is.

“Jun-”

“Sorry, yeah I know,” He knows better than anyone, that’s what he said. But he doesn’t know when you make his way into his chest and wrap your arms over his trembling limbs. Doesn’t know he needs comfort more than you. Doesn’t know why you still trust him. Doesn’t know when you’ve grown up so much.

“Jun” you stifle in his shoulders, “It’s alright now, I’m fine. My wrist. My wounds…it doesn’t hurt, I don’t feel anything”

“I’m just sad,” He feels your tears on his shirt as you let out a choked sob, “That nothing has changed within 3 years. That I’m still so weak…she could’ve done anything”

“No, no, no!” Jun holds you protectively, “nothing is gonna happen to you…not when I’m around”

And you weren’t.

His evil mind brands the painful statement of his truth as he secures his senses and holds you tighter.

“…I just want to forget today Jun…please. I don’t want to talk about it again. Not when we have so much to look forward to”

“Anything…”

Just like him you don’t want to go through this again. You scarcely survived last time, and its misery expanses through your blood, the evidence on your wrist. Adversity is what you were doomed with, you were aware-made peace with it long ago. And so, like any survivor would; you did what you had to do to move on. Block out the pain and smile. Even if it kills you.

Removing your face off his torso, you wipe your tears with your fist.

“Did they find Mojo?”

“Mojo? …Oh, the dog? They did!” Jun laughs helping you wipe your tears, “He was found barking at a fresh beef jerky station”

Thank God he was safe. For some reason you assumed the old woman kidnapped him. Found barking at beef jerky huh…that sounds delicious.

“I’m hungry” your lips form into a pout and you pat at your lowly rumbling stomach and Jun gives you the biggest grin

“Excellent” he says while fiddling his fingers together like an evil cartoon character “Let me go fix your plate and grab the first aid mwahahaha”

You’re extremely confused with his demeanor and make it known by scrunching your face in half confusion and half disgust

“Did you poison the food?”

“Ahahaha…no,” He starts stepping away towards the kitchen, “Some things just work out according to your plan”

“Like the lullaby?”

He stops in the middle of the hallway as the expressions on your face’s switches with each other “I didn’t know you were still so soft Junie”

“Shut up”

“And your voice! Have you been sneakily practicing Mr. Sinatra?”

“M-m-maybe you sh-should go to bed without food!” He stutters with a red face and his hands on his hips

That shuts you up as you give him a ‘Hmph!” and pass him on the hall into the dining room. “Whoa!” you gasp as you notice the clock, “11:41 already”

“WHAT?!” Jun shouts rushing into the room and witnessing your comment “You have school tomorrow! This isn’t good,” he grabs your plate at the table and speeds to the microwave

“Does this mean I get to stay up till 2?”

“NO!”

The weather was frosty these days, tickling you through the ruffles of your tight purple dress. You skipped amongst the inner lining of the wooded area, close enough to see the highway through the shrubs, holding tiny rocks in your fist. You weren’t fully clothed for the temperature, short sleeves and loose tights making your tiny limbs tremble for a good 20 minutes; you wanted to go home. Instead you distracted yourself by picking up little bits of the earth.

“Don’t get too close to the water” you hear from behind. Twirling on one leg, you observe the petite woman towering on the upper side of the ditch, glaring through your soul. She stood by one of the large dead trees, her arms folded across her chest.

There are shadows under her eyes, stiffening the complexion of her pale skin. She stares down at you with her flooded pupils. Her fingers scratching at her arm through the warm jacket she wore.

“The water…don’t get too close” She repeats in the familiar fatigued tone. Her scarf seems to be suffocating her neck, and the padded jacket made a sleek noise every time she made a move. You can spot her steady breaths in the bitter air. For a moment there’s nothing but silenced stares shared between you and her.

That vanishes as soon as a large black car passes by. She whips her head into the direction of the street she’s near, as her breath comes out in a speedier rate. You also turn away from her stature, focused on finding more rocks. They lead into the mini creek in the end of the ditch. Walking up to the creek, you squat to watch your reflection in the water. It was better than your small mirror, you think, fixing your beanie and wiping the stray hairs irritating your face.

“Hey! What did I tell you?” you once again turn to find her figure in your direction once again. There was a hint of anger in her pupils, she appears like she’ll walk up to you any second now until you hear another voice.

“It’s you right?” The stranger wearing all black paces up to her, he seemed scary – you couldn’t see his face by his hood covering, but he was taller than her and you were scared for her.

“Nice place you picked, asshole” She grits at him, having completely forgotten about your presence, digging into her purse feverously

“Come on, it’s a dead road sweetheart. No one comes around these parts” he laughs at her annoyed attitude.

He makes eye contact with you, and you sense your heart skip a beat. “Cute kid” he smiles at you.

The woman gives you a quick glance from her rummaging, “You’re scaring her” she returns to her digging

“Aww why? I’m not a bad guy,” he gives you a wave as she snorts

She gets out a bunch of money, you don’t know how much, it’s all stuffed and crumpled in her hand. Giving it a glance over, she shoves it into his chest. You watch him sigh, and mildly remove the cash from her fingers. He straightens out the bills and begins counting them.

“You’re short” He says, folding the notes and fitting them into his back pocket. “15 milligrams only”

“15?” she shouts before noticing her surroundings, and harshly whispers “You gave me 30 for this much last time”

“That was last time sweetheart, price’s changed”

You gawk as she leaps at him, her palms clutching the sides of his hoodie, having you seal your tiny rocks into your own palm. “P-Please – don’t do this” she spits out “It doesn’t – it barely works anymore, it hurts, it hurts so much – everywhere I-I can’t”

He pushes her off him, into the ground making you stand up straight as heat fills your bones. “That’s not my problem, don’t spit on me bitch” he yells as she heaves on the scattered dead leaves. He watches her struggle a bit before taking a long breath, “Shit, I didn’t mean that…I’ve already been having a bad day, don’t just jump up on me” he messes with his hoodie

Dragging her up to her feet, he takes out a petty clear bag, filled with white powder. Her neck’s bending towards the ground, she refuses to look up at him, which gets him rowdier. He pulls her arm up and crams the bag into her hand.

“You want more? Get more money” he sneers, “Sell that kid” he points at you

“Or better yet, buy her a jacket” he finishes, stomping away with his hands in his jacket’s pouch.

You watch him leave as the freezing wind picks up again. She doesn’t move a muscle facing away from your view. Having the alarms in your head pacified by the lull of the forest, you return your gaze to the creek. There’s a shiny rock in the center of the stream, which makes you squat out of curiosity once again. It’s shimmering the light of the sun, which you were sure was covered by fluffy clouds when you stepped outside. Your face turns up, as you make direct eye contact with the ball of glaring fury. Squinting at the flares you bring your small fist up to protect your sight.

At that moment you hear the crunching of leaves by your rear, a voice deeply surrounding your passive frame –

“What did I tell you about the water”

Sitting up in your bed you stare off into the corner of your messy mattress. The lining seems to be ripping from the sheet due to your endless fluster. You’re deep in your thoughts, not being comprehensively conscious to the morning chirps of blue jays – their high-pitched revenue placating you to doze off. In brief, you were still perplexed by your dream. It’s been a long while since you’ve thought of her.

Saturday was finally here. The rest day for a million chores, sunny and bright for your pleasure. You think back on the week, which has been smooth sailing minus a few unintentional mishaps. It's been an easy couple of days, if you take away your anxiety and the few occurrences where you’d look over your shoulder to make sure no elderly lady was following you. Yesterday you almost peed yourself when you ran into the neighbor lady. It was a coincidence, you didn’t know she’d be standing right in front of the entryway as you opened the door to leave for school, and she didn’t know you’d scream right in her face. Long story short, after you screamed, and she screamed, and Jun scolded you; she gave you some lemon meringues. The reason she was at your house. They were so delicious, you’d become fond of her.

Jun had been dropping you off to school these days. It was cute at first, until you realized all he would talk about was his favorite Alfred Hitchcock movies. Since almost all of them made you fall asleep, you weren’t exactly a fan. You didn’t heed to anything as soon as you caught other voices though, most likely students indicating the school building was near, so you booked it. Registering him running after you with a ‘Hey wait up’, you dashed into the gates and onto the platform leading inside the school. You were going to ignore him the whole way, but you had to feel guilt-ridden and twirled about to see him waving goodbye. Smiling, you return the gesture only to regret it as soon as he shouts

“Have a good day! I love you princess!”

-at the top of his lungs. That’s it. You were going to kill him. Spotting some students staring at you, the source of the weird old guy yelling, you sprint into the building with a muffled scream.

That was yesterday, and sadly he’s still alive and well.

Today was your officially your first church visit, hopefully to become a certified member of FallHaven Baptist Church. For some cause, you couldn’t deny you were nervous; the church had a bit of an intimidating exterior. Well at least you’d finally get to buy new shoes for school.

Speaking of school, you had made friends! Or well, Candance and ‘a’ friend. Her name was Jasmine, and she was the nicest red head, a complete package of glasses and freckles. She came over to ask if you were okay when you had a terrible headache on Wednesday. Afterwards you noticed her in a few other periods, which wouldn’t be odd considering there are 60 kids in senior year. Jasmine joined you and Candance for lunch since then. Maybe you’re becoming a bit too attached to both too quickly, fault of only your own social awkwardness. But you knew they’re both great people, as well as members of today’s church.

You feel guilty for even thinking this, but you hadn’t had a run-in Jimin around after the strange incident on Monday. Sometimes you’d spot him talking to a pretty girl in the back of the class. Or well, she would talk, sitting right on his lap while he looked out through the window. His guard would stand behind him without an expression and you found yourself growing even more interested in his world. It’s not that you had feelings for him, you knew yourself and that was impossible. You tried but you couldn’t get Jimin out of your head…or that look in his eye. His aura was magnetic, and you were drawn to him by an invisible force. Is Jimin also a member of the church? He must be, everyone else is. Then again Jimin wasn’t like anybody else, not with those enflamed locks and sharp abyss eyes.

Knock Knock

You break from your thoughts as your door speaks, “Heyyy~ you up? We’ve got to leave in an hour” Jun hums in a hype tone.

Listening to the tune in his voice reminds you of Monday night, how you were swept in his large arms and you could smell his soft oceanic scent – rosemary and a hint of musk from his burdens lingering his neckline. His uncovered skin was on your lips, your torso swallowed by his. You turn a bright red, clenching the sheets around your fingers before you choke a shout

“I’ll be out in a minute”

“Alright, breakfast is on the table” He responds and finishes walking away. Taking a huge sigh, you wake yourself by smacking your cheeks, swinging your legs off the bed and stretching your rigid physique. It’s going to be a long day.

The walk to the Church was a good 20 minutes. Jun had insisted today, no matter how many times you begged him not to, to conversate about how Casablanca was the greatest movie in American cinema. You didn’t know why he knew every character’s name by hand, but that was another mystery of the Fabulous Jun. Letting him talk to his fulfillment was the best option, sighting how he sulked the tiniest every time you interrupted him.

By now, it should be obvious that Jun doesn’t have a car. Ironic, seeing where he works. It’s another reason why you moved here, everything was meters from each other. The town’s population was about 2100 folks from what Uncle Alp told you, and that number seemed so miniscule compared to the busy city. You think Jun was the most excited to move here, he was never much of a people’s person and the somber skies, reticent road gave him comfort. Your poor lone wolf.

“And that’s why Rick doesn’t believe in god”

“…Wait, what?” You turn to stare at him, the sentence your ear caught far more interesting than the pebble you were kicking with your feet.

“Weren’t you listening? I was just explaining the bane of existence Rick Blaine has to deal with!”

“Jun, we’re literally walking to church, would you please knock it off with the jokes?”

“Come on” He winks, “We’re going to be Christians in a good hour, can’t I have my fun while it lasts”

You roll your eyes to hide a smirk, ready to leave him behind once again when you spot huge white gate tubes from the corner of your eyes.

As you come face to face with the front gate, you stare at the gigantic structure known as the church. The white bricked building made the holy edifice seem even holier. The place was built like a palace, complete with a royal entrance pathway you walk through with Jun. Each side of the pathway had an endless field of grass, containing some of the most colorful flowers on earth.

“Not bad” He whispers

As you walk up to the building, you notice the gray bell tower on the right side of the roof. You wonder which lucky fellow gets to ring that bell. Once you get inside though, is when even Jun becomes speechless.

The interior stretches for a mile, the chapel big enough to seat the whole town. A warm aroma sifts through the wood of the benches, and you feel like you can stay in this golden-lit room forever. Stained glass was at every corner of the room, letting through the light the images wished. At the altar resided a large organ piano, candles decorating the pillars of the organs, burning an intense flame for it’s visitors. Above the piano stood the crucified Jesus, the pain sculptured on his face an intimidating reminder for anyone that comes across the his eyes. The chapel seemed decorated. White flowers adorned the benches of the sanctuary, and people seemed to be polishing the walls. A set of people were on a ladder, pulling up a decorative banner. You spot Joan at the right side of the room, by a small statue of Mary, chatting with 2 strangers that seemed to be closely heeding her words.

“Joan,” Jun calls out to her, and when she turns to him, he waves. She says her farewell to the strangers and comes your way. You wish there was someone else who could show you around, but alas luck was not on your side.

“Welcome, we have been patiently awaiting your arrival” Joan smiles, walking up to you with her hands held together

“Are the preparations for us? You shouldn’t have!” Jun jokes

Joan gives him a swift gaudy chortle, making you squint. That bad gag sure made her happy. Actually, everything seems to make her happy.

“We are getting ready for the arrival of one of our most cherished facility members. He will be attending our sermon tomorrow, you two have arrived on a marvelous period for the town” She gleams

“He sounds like someone special…has he been gone somewhere?” You question

“Yes, he has been lending a hand to the victims of the tragedy in Samaria in the beginning of the month…he has currently completed his concerns on the town and is returning home. His family is holding a ceremony for him tomorrow to reward his efforts”

You and Jun offer sympathetic glances.

The fire in Samaria had been circulating on television for weeks. In the beginning of the month, a local well-loved priest in the small town of Samaria had shut in worshippers during mass and torched the statue of Jesus on the cross in the front of the altar. 300 lives suffered grave deaths, including his own. It was said spectators could hear the vibration of children screaming through the blaze from a hundred miles around, as firefighters tried to tear down the bolted doors. Not a single survivor.

“We would love to be here tomorrow,” Jun smiles

“And we would love to have you. Now please come this way,” She extends her arm toward the inner hall on the right, “Our Archbishop is quite excited to meet you”

You follow Joan along the hall, her heel’s clacking echoing around the assembly of the broad interior. The ceiling was caved outward and dispersed among the hallway to the very end. It was the biggest building you had ever been inside, and your neck ached as you pressured your marveled gaze upon everything. The church had a dim, golden color and you walked along indoor pillars; each pillar encompassing a soft light fixture and a holy cross. Every column had a large brown door.

“Um, Joan, I read on your brochure this place has a confessional? As far as I know New Testament Christians don’t believe in the confessional method.” You see Jun’s expression out of the corner of your eye at your question. He was dazzled at your knowledge. Heh, how insulting.

“You are absolutely right, ___” She turns her head a bit and you spot her pleasant expression beyond her blonde tresses, “Actually, we are the only place of worship for many for around a thousand miles. This Church is also famous for its beauty. Everyone becomes enraptured with it, like you have,” She laughs as you blush. When did she catch you in amazement? “Members of our family come from far and wide to seek refuge in our humble Church, and therefore to ease their souls, we offer a great many sources for all kinds of our relatives. Including Protestants and Evangelist. We also offer everyone a place at the Holy Communion, baptized or not .”

“That’s…amazing. And so kind.” You awe. This was great, I mean you still wanted to be baptized along with Jun. New beginnings and all, but it’s great that you’re Church is so open hearted.

“Are there any problems because of this? Like do any leaders from those other tribes get upset?” Jun casually ponders, while you elbow him for asking something so insensitive…and did he just call them tribes?

“Au contrair!” Joan giggles, “We have the Vatican’s blessing, and many devout religious leaders visit our Church with boundless respect” She stops and turns her body toward the right side of the hallway, while you both have a clear view of her face. She smiles way too much. “So yes, our “tribes” get along well”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude” Jun mutters, scratching the back of his head

“Oh no, I didn’t take your words for offense, Jun” Joan steps closer to the wall, hidden from your sight by a pillar “This is our Archbishop’s office” She knocks on what you believe is a door.

You hold your breath as the door glides open, the slight creaking at the hinges relaying it’s ancient age.

Out steps a sharply dressed tall old man. He embodied a tan-colored suit, edges ironed to perfection and not a fringe out of place in his off white head of hair, combed perfectly neat to the right. There was a handkerchief poking out from his front pocket and a brown bow tie adorning his collar. You couldn’t recognize any signs of fatigue and barely that of aging. The facial format of his appearance communicated passion and vigor, the wrinkles around his clear coffee eyes were soft and fresh, while the lines of his mouth were welcoming. Nothing but his hair gave away his age, not even a sun spot adorned his porcelain skin. He had the same stretchy smile on his features like Joan.

“Are these two beautiful souls our new neighbors?” He spoke in a harmonious tone of voice. You could sift the aura of a dominant charisma emitting from his stature from every word.

“Yes, they are!” Joan replies, “They want to become members of our Church, isn’t that wonderful, Robert? This is Robert,” She directs her words at Jun, “the Archbishop and eldest head of our Church”

They both stare at you, practically illuminating holy lights out of their asses, temporarily blinding you and Jun.

“Yeah, It’s nice to meet you, sir” Jun steps up and held out his hand; which the pastor, who you notice is taller than Jun, encompasses in both his palms, for an extra friendly greeting “My name is Jun and this is my sister, we just moved here last week, looking forward to joining your lovely Church, if you’d let us”

“This Church is open to any soul submitting himself to God” Robert speaks, rubbing Jun’s hand with both of his own, to which Jun uncomfortably laughs

“And you” He turns to you as you slightly startle, “Are you willing to submit your being to the high and mighty, little lamb?” He lets go of Jun’s hand and faces you. As do Jun and Joan, which irks the anti-attention personality in you.

“Um yes, I’m ___” You offer him your hand, which is easily taken in both of his own again. You immediately feel his warmth traveling through your arm from contact of his fingers, as he glides it over your casing delicately. It was as if he was a furnace. Goosebumps arrive on the affected area of the skin.

He pauses just a bit suddenly, and you watch his eyes open a bit further through his big smile, the corner of his lip turning downward. The chocolate of his iris had become darkened until it was an endless black, staring through your outer layers. You felt naked even with your clothes on, and it frightened you so you slowly pull your hand back. Trying not to make a rash movement.

Yet as soon as it came, it was gone.

He pulled your hand towards him again, and the blank gaze had dissolved into the familiar sweet caramel expression – not giving you a chance to react. You look at Jun and his relaxed expression, neither of the other two noticed your discomfort. Which was rare for Jun.

“Joan, You’ve done right by bringing these two here. I can tell they’ll fit right in and bring much fortune! You both are official FallHaven Baptist Church members”

“Oh wonderful!” Joan claps in celebration

Robert puts his arms in the air, his fingers and head raised towards the sky, “I can feel it already, the lord sending a message through me.” You stay still and watch as Joan immediately pulls out a wooden cross from underneath her blouse, bringing it up to her lips and chanting something under her breath. Jun takes a step back.

“He wants me to do it as soon as possible, he wants it done immediately. Yes Lord! For I am your humble servant! You both,” He turns back to you, “Will be baptized at tomorrows communion! Praise the Lord!”

“Amen!” Joan shouts, a bit out of breath and you notice how much her pupils dilated.

“Alright then boy,” He lets go of holding you under his intense gaze and rotates to Jun while you discreetly rub at your hand through your extra-long sleeves.

“Why don’t you and I have a little chat about some grown up stuff, while Joan gives a sort of tour of our holy house to the little lamb here” He puts his hand on your shoulder to refer to you and you stiffen immediately

“Sounds good” Jun raises a eyebrow at you “You alright with that?”

Alone with Joan?

“…Yes”

“Oh small one,” Robert slightly rubs his thumb around the back of your shoulder, “You’ve done so well by accepting Jesus. No longer will you grieve alone, for he will be by your side. He’s made it clear to you, he has!”

“I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born, says the Lord! And that’s you!” He raises his finger into your face, his voice dominating through the walls of the hallway, echoing off the corners of the roof “You’re born again!”

“You’re free from your suffering!”

Walking down the left hallway on the second floor, you marvel at the glass ceiling, the cloudless sky letting in all the wonders of the world. Through the golden hues, you watch as Joan struts in front of you in the glittering hallway, occasionally detailing the authenticity of paintings and figurines decorating each side of the walls. So far, you’ve had the pleasure of seeing the study, the confessional also known as the reconciliation room, and the bell tower.

She displayed the charisma and pride of an honest church member. Bragging about many key aspects the large shelter provided. In total, the cathedral could serve up to 2000 worshippers at a time. It wasn’t the Jubilee, but it was still an amazing feat.

There were a few things you had learned already. The youth bible study met up twice a week after school. Classes for certain instruments and vocal lessons were also available. You signed the roster immediately after seeing the name of the person that led the group. Sunday mass lasts an hour after sunrise, led by the Archbishop and called for by the large bell tower. For those who miss it, there’s a make-up held by one of the priests and a deacon in the evenings. On Easter, mass lasts 3 hours with additional services including altar calls and extra hymns led by the youth group. It was so surreal, you were now actually apart of a community and you were going to do things with them…like a family does. For so long, it’s been just you and Jun. Speaking of him, you muse on how touchy he’ll get at you coming home late, or how cranky he’ll be in the early mornings for mass.

You let out a soft chuckle imagining his furrowed eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth flipped downside in a strong pout. Joan steps up to a door and you follow close behind, she pushes it open and turns to you.

“This is our Biblical library! The 4th largest in the world!” She pleasantly brags about the brightly lit room, where you have to keep your jaw from dropping. It finally made sense as to why this church was as big as it was.

Your eyes glaze over the giant cherry wood shelves, towering over the lax white chamber, straining your neck to the clouds. They pushed on for miles, one shelf after the other harboring hundreds of books. It was a bit intimidating. There were tables containing a few busy bodies lingering the maroon carpet in the front, and everything was vast and silent. At the front desk, there was a lady with a pointy nose which her bifocals rested upon, reading a blank brown covered book and whispering to herself inaudibly. She covered herself from head to toe with a black veil wrapped around her figure, a tunic like dress connected to a bib at the neck-line. A nun.

“Sister Haggith” Joan leans in to whisper to you, “She oversees the library and everything that comes with such a task. She knows every nook and cranny of this place, including each book and it’s location. Sister Haggith is an amazing woman, and another trusted member of the board”

“Wow” You gasp, “Is she from the monastery?”

“Yes, she has been with us for 21 years. Actually quite a few of our sisters have work around town. Have you gotten the chance to visit your school’s infirmary?”

“No, not yet. But I’ll be sure to check it out,” you tell her and she replies with a smile.

In the corner of the room, one of the clear glass cases catch your eye. Inside the display case was a worn out piece of khaki paper, looking about 100 years old. The paper was thin and fragile, torn the slightest at each of the ends. There was something written in shrill black ink, but you were too far away for it to be anything but blurry.

“Um, may I ask about that?” You shyly point at your object of interest and Joan follows your line of sight.

“Oh!” She chirps “The scripture of Nathanael”

When you give her a confused look, she leads you toward the stand with a ‘come with me’. Next to the display case were a few other ones, containing more ancient objects. Another that caught your eye was an extremely rusted dagger.

You examine the tabloid carefully, now that you were closer, you could easily read the paper. Or not? The writing wasn’t in English.

“What does it say?”

“It’s in Hebrew” Joan answers, “It was given to us by an angel from the heavens. He identified himself as Nathanael”

She bends down and reads a sentence off the paper, “thy fate lies in the conscious of thy choices; of thy wilt to serve the mighty”

Immediately your mind rushes toward what Candance had told you; about the tower and the famine and the ‘great warning.’

“It’s true” you accidently whisper out loud

“So, you have been enlightened?” Joan asks

“Yeah…I think…” You grin awkwardly

“There is no need to worry, there’s quite a few fables made about the tower” Joan giggles, “The reality is simple though. 120 years ago, our town was made up of devout Christians, filled to the brim with their love for our father.” She looks toward the ceiling happily, “They were refugees of the south, unbinding from their laws and wars, seeking a place to start over. However, we were new to this land. We settled into it’s foundation in the beginning of that year.” Her tone suddenly deepens and she slowly brings her head back down, “And you see, sometimes foundations become barren. Sometimes they crack. Then comes the drought”

For the first time you see Joan frown. That one word has her staring deep off into space, no longer a silver of light in her eyes. She stands there, glaring a hole through the white wall, and time slows around you both as you shift uncomfortably at the heavy atmosphere. You much rather have her creepily smiling.

“The drought” she whispers “That summer, the heat…the sounds of battle cries over the horizon…so endless, so suffocating. Oh how bad the drought was” she closes her eyelids as she shivers slightly. “We prayed and prayed and prayed for the bad drought to go away, on our knees till they bled, till our mouths were dry and our eyes felt that they would fall off. Oh bad drought go away, Oh Lord save us! And it happened” She raises her arms up into the air and open her eyes with one sudden motion, as you watch with astonishment

“Just like he promised! A miracle, a great mercy! He came down to us, he saved our damned souls!” the corners of her eyes well up, as she breathes heavily into the air practically yelling each syllable, “We-

“Joan!”

You both jump as a stern voice interrupts the silence of your small corner. There you spot Sister Haggith, quiet and still, her intimidating aura making you feel small. She appeared out of nowhere.

“You are being too loud, child. Shall I remind you of what a library is?” She speaks, staring through Joan as someone insignificant and you can feel the lady beside you straighten herself.

“Y-you are correct. I am so sorry” she takes a handkerchief out of her blazer’s breast pocket. She dabs sweat from her forehead with her fabric and turns to you. You notice how dilated her pupils are again, and you find yourself worrying for her.

“I-I am sorry, the moral of the story is that angel Nathanael saved us from the drought and laid down ground rules, which are written in the scripture. Alright, we should get on our way,” Grabbing your arm, she commences to walk away from the displays, around the woman who hadn’t moved an inch and toward the large doors as you wince.

You make a grunt of disapproval which has her peeking back and letting go of your arm. As you both step out of the library onto the foyer of the hallway, she treads quietly in front of you, until you both are once again in the chapel.

She turns around, and looks at you with apology.

“I am sorry, once again for my behavior. I get deep into my feelings about our lord, but a library is no place to behave that way.”

“No, I didn’t…think anything…”

“Is your wrist alright?” She questions suddenly

“Um-what…”

“You seemed like you were in pain when I held your arm,”

“Oh yeah,” You bring your arms up and pull down your sleeve to revel a thin layer of bandage around your wrist.

“My goodness,” Says a shocked Joan

“Oh no! It’s not what you think! Jun is just easily suggestible, and it’s just on until the bruise vanishes”

“Bruise?” She says, even more worried than before

“No – I mean yes, I ran into a small accident, but it’s no big deal really!” You flail your arms around in denial, trying desperately to mend her concern

“There you are!” A familiar jolly voice interjects you

“Robert!”

“Jun!”

You both shout in unison, a wave of relief unapologetically obvious in your voices.

“You ladies have a grand time?” Robert asks as he walks up to you and Jun trails behind with a wide grin

“Just wonderful” Joan answers, her blinding smile re-embellished on her features

“It was great, I learned a lot” You reply, taking a peek at Jun and his suggestive expression. He was holding in a laugh.

“Now that’s what I like to hear ‘round here!” Robert laughs out loud, “Me on the other hand loves this goofy fella” He pats Jun on the back

Jun jokes back at the senior, “Not as much as we love Thanksgiving dinner” he winks

You pale at the horrendous joke, while Robert cackles louder and pats Jun harder as he holds his abdomens with his other arm, seemingly in better spirits than in the morning. Joan covers her mouth and lets out a tiny giggle as well, while you make a strange ‘ha ha’ sound.

“See, see, what I tell ya, he’s goofy!”

Jun looks at you with accomplishment while you subtly roll your eyes at his ‘charm act.

“Alright then, I’ll see you both here in the early morning! Your baptism will be right in front of the chapel, after the service!” Robert informs you

The four of you exchange a few other pleasantries, and before you know it you’re on your way home with a slushy and a new pair of shoes in your hand.

“I didn’t know there were so many cake varieties before!” You chirp, marveling at the cake shop you had stopped by in the mall.

“Well I for one, am excited to try out this new electric hand mixer” Jun takes out a box from his shopping bag of said item, “Always wanted one of these”

“$4 bucks says you break on the third try” You squint your eyes, teasing the tall boy next to you

“And where will you get that money?” He asks as a matter of fact, making you ‘hmph’ in return

“…Do you like the church?” Jun questions

“…I do” You return, looking at his expression for something hidden. You just could never tell what he was thinking.

He smiles, “Robert’s quite the character, huh?”

“Yeah, Robert’s…something”

As you’re discerning, you make a turn at the intersection just to trip over one of your shoes and fall onto the pavement. Thank god your drink was almost empty, you think as the slushy falls by your side. You catch your body on your hand and knees as your bag slips out of your hand and into the ditch on the side of the sidewalk. Jun shouts your name as he bends down to check on you and you let out a curse watching the bag roll down the patchy green hill, toward the canal. Quickly, you get up and run after it while Jun runs after you, still yelling your name and telling you to stop.

Before your bag goes anywhere near the water, a long silhouette halts the object and picks it up with one hand. When you get closer you recognize the figure to be a young man, wearing a white suit. Your running ends and you stand a feet away from him, when he turns to look at you, taking away your breath for a good minute.

In the serenity of that afternoon, when the sun was at it’s highest and the nightingale sprung it’s chorus; the water reflected the colors of the rainbow and the winds softly whispered through your body, you met an angel.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon. Is this yours?”

He hands you the bag you had already long forgotten about. You stare at him, as motionless as a feather while you watch his face turn to one of confusion.

“Yup, that’s hers! Thanks man!” Jun breaks you out of your daze as he takes the bag from his fingers.

“Um, yes. Thank you so much!” You splutter, embarrassed

“It’s nothing” He smiles and your jaw drops open

Dimples.

“Bye the way, you took quite a fall back there. Are you alright?” He asks

When you fail to answer, Jun nudges you, breaking you out of your daze for a second time.

“M-more than! I don’t feel any pai-ow!” You grab your wrist and remember your injury. It feels suggestively worse than when you first got it. It couldn’t be that you sprained it…could it.

“Shit, I knew it was just a matter of time!” Jun shouts, grabbing your wrist to take a look himself

“Owwww, don’t pull it!” You whine tugging your arm back

You play tug of war for a bit, before you feel someone else gently grab your wrist and you both freeze. Namjoon opens your sleeve, and places his fingers on your wrist. He delicately presses down a few times,

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” and it didn’t. All the pain had evaporated just like that while a strong warmth spreads in place of any discomfort. Namjoon concentrates on your bandage, and it appears as if he could see through it, which makes you subconsciously draw your arm back. He couldn’t notice it, could he. While you stare at him, Jun’s head awkwardly angled to the side slides into the corner of your eye.

“I’m glad, must’ve been temporary” Namjoon says, releasing your hand and backing away, “Are you both new in town?”

“Yes, we just moved in a week ago!” Jun responds

“And how do you like my town?” He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

“It’s been well, the house is old so adjusting’s a bit tough but we’ll get the hang of it”

“Where did you both move in from?”

“One of the inner cities from the north”

Namjoon becomes silent. “The one where they…uh…I-I’m sorry”

“It’s no big deal” Jun thwarts his worry, “Everyone’s reaction is the same, so we keep it hush-hush, but yeah”

“We’re town-folk now” You add

Both men look at you for a moment before they laugh.

“That’s right” Jun says through a gummy smile

“Of course,” Namjoon pipes in with his dimples

“We should get going, I need to make a few arrangements,” Jun shakes Namjoon’s hand as they exchange names, “See you around Namjoon? At the pub maybe?”

“Maybe, but not there,” Namjoon chuckles, “I’m still in school”

You and Jun look like a fish out of the water. I mean, he looks so mature? So wise? Which high schooler could be this angelic?

“So maybe I’ll see you around” He winks at you

You feel your legs give out but you hold still to not further your humiliation “H-how-”

“Every kid at FallHaven high wears those” He points at your shoes “Which grade are you in”

“S-senior year”

“Me too! Hopefully we’ll be class buddies”

“But I haven’t seen you around before?” You say

“I’ve been on a trip, just returned today. Monday will be my first day back”

“Wow! This is so cool cause she doesn’t have a lot of friends but you look like a popular guy, Namjoon! Take care of her! Hey come on over after class sometime and I’ll make you my famous choco-“

“Let’s go!” You push a rambling Jun, red-faced at his blabbering

“Wait, I’m just talking to the nice young ma-”

“Jun, we’re leaving!” you shout at the older boy

“B-bye, see you at school” You shyly shout back at Namjoon through the idiot’s screeching. Blushing harder when he waves a goodbye with an amused expression

As he leaves your view, you thought you spotted someone running up to his side, but maybe you were mistaken.

“I like him!”

“I get it Jun, you’ve said it a hundred times” You giggle at the child-like expression on his face. As you take one step after the other, almost at your house, Jun wouldn’t stop talking about the encounter with Namjoon. You liked him too. He was such a gentleman, so much class. School was going to get so much more interesting. Wait…Why was everyone at your school so good-looking. What’s up with that. How’re you going to survive being surrounded by hot people? Especially that one guy,

“Jimin”

“Who?”

It takes you a second to figure out you’ve said his name out loud, and when you take your eyes off the ground, Jun is glaring a hole right through your face.

“W-what?”

“Who’s Jimin” He questions with his breath in your face

“Nothing, go away” You avoid him

“First you’re a blushing mess in front of Namjoon, and now you’re whispering a name of a boy I never heard about?”

“I-I wasn-”

“I guess it’s time to tell you this” He looks ahead suddenly, his features hardened and serious

You watch him breathe through his nose, and blink slowly and you find yourself becoming nervous “Tell me w-what”

“The moment has come” He stops walking as your right in front of your house and puts all his focus on you, which in return makes you gulp.

“Princess…” the wind picks up and you gaze at him with goosebumps on your skin

“When a man and woman fall in love, sometimes they get these urges to become one, now what those are-”

“Say one more word and you won’t be able to pee standing up again”

You were making your bed after setting up the alarm clock Jun had bought you. It was time to sleep for tomorrow’s big day and your teeth were chattering just thinking about it. That and it was really cold inside the house. Uncle Alp had told Jun he would talk to some guy he knows, but so far you haven’t heard anything further. Hopefully it would be fixed by the end of next week. You don’t know how many more nights you’ll have to survive sweating through your house in the middle of the day and becoming a frozen statue on your bed at night.

In the mall, before you had lunch, Jun reminded you a hundred times to get a heater, but guess who forgot. Honestly you did it on purpose so he’d take you shopping again, but he doesn’t need to know that. What you didn’t like about today was Joan calling Jun by his name. I mean, adults call each other Mr. last name unless they’re close, right? Especially respectful ones like ‘Joan’ but here she was “hahaha Jun this hahaha Jun that.’ Ok, maybe you were being a bit mean. You felt really bad when Joan got yelled at by that elder lady. There is something about the old people in this town that freaks you out. Learning more about the town was a good thing. You were gonna revisit that Scripture and see what else you can find out about FallHaven. At least there’s no cannibalism.

You walk by your closet and take off your dress. It was when you were changing into your pajamas that you notice your wrist. The bandage was still wrapped around it but it didn’t hurt. It hadn’t hurt all day. Curious, you remove the tape and unwind the white ribbons off your wrist. Your heart beats a bit louder as it clears itself off your skin.

You let out a gasp.

Smooth, clean, no signs of staining or any discoloration. Twisting your wrist around, you decide to give it a flick. And still, no pain, no ache.

This morning, you had opened up the bandage to find a light purple bruise. Then just a few hours later…it vanished? Something wasn’t adding up. You recall how the pain had disappeared when Namjoon had touched it. Could he have somehow healed you?

Did people like that exist?

But then again. Those marks were still there. The reminders of your hell still scarred into your vision. If he had healing abilities…wouldn’t he have healed these? Definitely. So he’s not a healer, just a very good-looking boy. But then…where’s your bruise?

Argh, it was giving you a headache. Either way you won’t need this stupid bandage anymore, you think as you stand up and throw it in the dust bin. Shutting your door closed, and lights off, you cheerily skip onto your bedside and jump onto the springy mattress. Lying in bed and wrapping the covers around yourself tightly, you close your eyes in hopes to doze off into a new bright and sunny day. Today was over, and you and Jun were safe. In the end that’s all that mattered.

Bzzz Bzzz

It’s fully dark when you regain conscious and there’s something light knocking into your face. With your eyes closed in discomfort you swat away at whatever’s bothering your slumber.

Bzzz Bzzz

You sigh, as you fan yourself. Why was it so hot? Did Jun get the heat to work again? You kick off your covers, but then realize that there’s nothing to kick off. There was nothing covering your body but your pajamas.

Bzzz Bzzz

“Fuck” You sit up in your pitch black room. Turning to check the time, you spot 2:57 on your clock. That’s when you see a little black dot fly into your view, and you work quickly to stamp your hands together. It works because you feel something between your palms. Hesitant to let go, you move your arms away from you and open them up.

“Ew what the-”

You say at the sticky black goo encasing both your palms. Examining in through the moonlight, you stare at the icky gunk on your hand as the curtain from the window brushes your shoulder.

Wait, what?

You whip your head toward the missing glass above your bed in horror. Why was your window open?

Who opened it?

Before you know it, you’re breathing heavily and you turn around into your dark room once again. The quiet no longer giving you a sense of calm, instead replaced with the terror of reality. Someone broke into your room, the alarms go off in your head, and your sense of rationality goes flying out the open window. It’s dark, but you can make out most of the furniture in your room. And that’s where you see it.

In the corner of your room, by your dresser stands a long, bulky dark shadow, the recognition had you tightening your fingers on your sheets.

At this point your hyper ventilating as tears stream down your face.

“W-who” Is all you manage to make out, closing in on yourself to protect your body from any potential harm.

Bzzz Bzzz

There’s a minute that goes by before the shadow moves closer, and this time there’s buzzing surrounding you. You look around the room and it’s filled with tiny black spots rummaging the shadows, you choke on your sobs, as the buzzing grows louder. One of the black dots land right on your hand. The moonlight exposing the common fly. Yet there was something off about it. You shoo it off, covering your ears with your hands, you shut your eyes tight as you fall over, face first onto the bed; trying to drown out this nightmare. Every second the buzzing becomes louder and unbearable and you feel the shadow right on your back.

Then it stops.

No buzzing

No shadow

No flies

You peek out from your hands staring at the spot once occupied by the thing when you feel something brush your ear

“Don’t be scared”

A deep, gruff voice is all you hear before your back is being plowed open by what seems like a claw. You scream out at the feeling of your skin being ripped open on your back. Something attaches itself to your spine as you cough out blood in the middle of your deafening shrieks. Writhing on bed as the shadow holds you down, you scream and whimper out your lungs. Flies cover your face and drown out your own ears until you can only hear your internal damnation. Years of deeply buried memories come swelling up, and you claw at your mattress for some sanity.

You feel every rip and tear of flesh, every drop of blood pour from your back, every nail of the claw digging into the deepest corners of your body,

and in that moment, you wish for death.

You wake up with a loud gasp, as tears stream down your face. Turning your eyes at every inch of your room, your hands rapidly move across your body. There’s no blood, no opening, no trace of any violence. Turning to face the window, you find it shut and barren. Shivers run up your body from the cold room. Which calms you down the slightest. Sweat pours through you like an open drain, your pores still living in your nightmare. You check your clock, the 3:00 am glares back at you in bold red. A dream.

Just a dream. You slow your heavy breathing wrapping your arms around your torso, yet there’s no end in sight for your tears.

You’re about to calm down when you feel it. There’s bile crawling up your throat, you’re aware of the suffocating substance littering your esophagus. Falling out of bed, you crawl your way out of the room. You drag your body with your hands, barely making it over the toilet. It doesn’t take long – just one groan and you’re disgorging today’s contents into the toilet bowl. Everything’s chaotic and wet, saliva attaching the last bit of your vomit to your mouth. Coughing out the last fillings of your insides, you spit into the putrid bowl, before flushing away any trace of retch. Grunting, you crawl back towards your room, there’s absolutely no sensation in your legs. You tremble as you make your way back into your mattress, pulling up the blankets on your sore limbs.

It was just a dream. You aren’t gonna tell Jun because it’s over. It was a dream. Some hellish nightmare born from the uneasiness of your past traumas and changes you aren’t comfortable with. You’re safe. There’s no shadow, there’s no monster. Dad’s not here. Jun doesn’t need to worry because of you. It’s over.

You shake like that for another hour or two, it feels like someone is smashing a hammer into the side of your skull, before you somehow pass out on your bed.

#Bts #Park Jimin #Jimin smut #Jimin angst #Bts smut #Bts angst #Yandere jimin #Yandere bts #mp;dv

167 notes · View notes

spirit-of-the-void · 5 years

Note

Me again! I’m sorry to ask for something so soon after my last one, but could I get the reverse of my nightmare ask? One where s/o sees the boys die in front of her, and wakes up in need of comfort? Thank you for all that you do! 🌸

Your wish is my command, love

~Dante~

- You were always so worried when Dante spent so much time fighting demons, so it was only a matter of time before you dreamt about such a thing.

- You had never been around the battles all that often, but the one time you were was a rare occurrence. You witnessed just how brutal it could get, how dangerous, and that stayed with you.

- You went to bed still upset about it. Which was a bad idea.

- Your mind bounced back to the demons, the fighting, everything. You dreamt of Dante being murdered viciously, demons ripping into his body as he lie on the ground like a ragdoll.

- It was horrifying, dark and painful for you to watch.

- The feeling of helplessness and despair was drowning you, sending you awake into a gasping panic with choked sobs in your throat.

- Dante immediately jolts awake at the sound of your cries, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your trembling, thrashing form as you tried to shake the dream.

- “Shhh…shhh it’s okay,” Dante breathes, tone heavy with sleep as he cradles you to his chest, “I’ve got ya sunshine. I’ve got ya.”

- You sit in his arms sniffling and crying, leaning your head on his shoulder and letting him stroke your hair back from your clammy forehead. His hand feels cool, soothing on your heated skin.

- “S…sorry…” You hiccup lightly, feeling his thumb wipe away a few of your tears, “I’m sorry…”

- Dante makes a shushing sound, pressing a gentle kiss to your mouth and wiping away more tears with his fingers.

- “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” He murmurs in a husky tone, leaning back to stare at you with his soft blue eyes. He gives you a crooked smile, holding your hand to his cheek, “It’s my job to be here for you, baby.”

- You sniffle, feeling the stubble on his strong chin with your gentle fingertips.

- “It…was a bad dream…” You mumble, feeling like it was almost childish in a way as you tilted your gaze down, “Just…a nightmare.”

- “No such thing as ‘just a nightmare’,” Dante huffs in reply, concern filling his gaze as he presses a kiss to your palm, “I’ve never seen you have a nightmare like that. You were crying before you even woke up.”

- You leaned your face to his bare chest, closing your eyes and feeling a shiver pass down your spine. The image of Dante’s face in death was so fresh in your mind, dulled only by the reality of your lover holding you in his arms. He was real, he was alive. Breathing, safe.

- “I had a dream that you died…” You whimpered softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and shuddering again, “It felt so real…I didn’t know what to do.”

- Dante’s heart feels like its been torn apart at your words, guilt and pain filling him at the prospect of anything hurting you. He knew his job came with risks, but the idea of those risks bringing you this much worry and pain…

- It was his fault that you saw all the things you did, he was afraid that they had bothered you and you hadn’t said anything.

- He needed to make you smile in any way he could.

- “I’m not going anywhere,” He promised you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you. You squeaked lightly, confusion filling you when Dante slid you both out of bed, “Cross my heart and hope to…wait, no, that’s not the right thing to say right now.”

- “Dante…!” You protest lightly, but you almost laugh at the tone he uses.

- “Now now, baby don’t you worry that pretty little head,” Dante chuckles lightly, hefting you up over his shoulder and starting for the main room of Devil May Cry, “Now you and I are gonna go downstairs, I’m gonna order some shitty pizza, and we’re going to watch those crappy cartoons that come on at two am.”

- You squirmed a bit in his grasp, letting out a light huff, “If we eat pizza at two o’clock in the morning we’re going to regret it…!”

- He smirks cockily, “It’s either that or I eat that pussy like groceries, darling. Either way, let’s play our cards and see what happens.”

- He smacked your ass lightly as he kept walking, making your face flush and a half-laugh, half-squeak leave your lips, “Dante…!”

- Needless to say, you find yourself falling back in bed around two hours later, curled up naked in Dante’s arms and thoroughly distracted from the dream that had hurt you before.

~Vergil~

- When it came to Vergil, you knew by now that he had several brushes with death.

- You had heard the stories, Vergil telling you after some time of his life before meeting you and all the struggles. He had downplayed so much, but you knew just how traumatizing such things could be.

- So the worry was already present in your mind, but due to the influx of demon attacks and missions Vergil was going out on…that worry only grew. It grew in your subconscious until it manifested in your dream state.

- It didn’t help that you had gone to bed without him, waiting for him to come home from a mission but unable to stay up. You eventually curled up on your bed on top of the covers, a book still in hand as sleep claimed you as an unwilling victim.

, - You slipped into dreaming much faster than you would have liked, drowning in the sensation as images formed before you eyes. Images of Vergil fighting demons, slashing with Yamato as one after another attacked him.

- It continued until he was overwhelmed, you pinned in the dream and forced to watch helplessly as one slashed at his body, then another, then another until he hit the ground with his sword rolling away from his limp hand.

- Those eyes, usually so sharp and confident now glassy and staring…it made you scream and cry over and over, panic filling you as you tried to get away from whatever was holding you.

- “Doll…!”

- Waking comes back to you in bits and pieces. You realize at some point that you were screaming and crying in real life, gasping and crying so hard you would choke on the sound while strong arms tried to hold you still.

- You recognized those arms.

- Your vision was spinning, fuzzy but coming back slowly as reality started to return to you. Vergil had you tightly in his arms, breathing heavily and his voice in your ear.

- “Its me…! Its me,” He said in a low tone, the hard line of his body pressed firmly to yours. You couldn’t remember the last time he used a tone that gentle with you, “I have you, doll. Calm down.”

- You continued to cry for a few more moments, pressing your face to his throat to muffle the sound. He was still in his usual clothes, skin a little damp from perspiration. He must have just gotten home from the mission.

- He had returned back and immediately heard your sounds of distress, dashing upstairs and ready to protect you at any cost.

- He had found you curled up on the bed, gripping the blankets and whimpering over and over, eyes squeezed shut and hands shaking.

- And now…you were so distressed, he didn’t know what to do. He sat down on the bed, holding you in his lap and stroking your back with his hand. The sensation of his firm arms, his breathing in your hair…it brought you down from the terrible dream, but your heart still ached.

- You sniffled a bit, feeling his hand cup the back of your head as you leaned back from him, “Y…you came home…”

- Vergil let out a low sound, frowning a bit as his sharp eyes met yours. His hair was a bit messed up, a few strands of silver hair hanging in front of his forehead.

- “I always do.” He said simply, holding your chin with his thumb and index finger.

- You closed your eyes, feeling him wipe some of the tears away, almost hesitantly.

- “I…had a dream that you didn’t come home,” You mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed now that waking had reached you fully, “Demons were killing you…and you…”

- Realization his his gaze, those sharp eyes staring at you with a mixture of regret and guilt. He was never good at taking your feelings into account with things, he knew that. He was trying to do better, but he would admit when it came to relationships he was still…foolish.

- He never took into account what leaving you home alone to wonder if he was okay would do to you. He had frequent nightmares, so knowing that his actions were causing yours…

- He felt like a complete asshole.

- He pressed his lips to yours suddenly, hand slipping into your hair to hold you firmly against him. You let out a surprised whimper, not used to him being the one to initiate affection. Usually it was you leaning up to kiss him, pulling him into an embrace.

- “V…Vergil…” You mewled against his lips, flushing a bit as his hands slid under your shirt.

- He let out a low hum, sharp eyes opening lazily to stare into yours.

- “I won’t be killed so easily,” He says in a firm tone, absolute and self-assured, “Do you doubt me, Doll?”

- You flush a bit, squirming slightly in his grasp under those blue eyes watching you, “N…no…I don’t.”

- He didn’t know what else to do but to assure you with his own confidence. You knew his strength, you knew him. The only comfort he could give was the faith you already had.

- He clicked his tongue lightly, sliding a thumb over your plump lower lip, “Good girl,” He paused, adding with a low sigh, “I…apologize for getting home this late. “

- That made you smile lightly, snuggling up in his arms with a low murmur of, “It’s okay…I’m glad you’re here now.”

- He stands up, still holding you and making you let out a surprised huff of air. He carries you effortlessly, gait smooth as he moves you out of the room.

- “V…vergil where are you…?”

- “I need a shower,” He cuts you off firmly, making a bit of a face as he carries you toward the bathroom, “And you need to relax. So I’m going to kill two birds with one stone.”

- That made your face flush, staring up at him and noting he definitely was pretty grimy after fighting demons.

- “You’re right,” You mumble, feeling a little bold in your frazzled state of mind, “I can’t really make love to you when you’re this filthy.”

- That made Vergil snort a bit cockily, a hint of a smirk playing on the edges of his lips as he replied, “Has this stopped you before, Doll? I think not.”

- You blushed, “You can’t prove that.”

- He chuckled lightly, the sound caressing your ears as he practically kicked the bathroom door open.

- “Is that so?” His tone was lilting, head tilted a bit as he walked you into the bathroom, “Let’s test that little theory, shall we?”

- Let’s just say, Vergil makes sure you’re thoroughly distracted from your troubles, that shower lasting long enough to run cold.

- You both eventually make it back to the bed, exhausted and relaxed. He makes sure you’re in a calm sleep before finally allowing himself to relax as well.

- Maybe some time off from demon hunting was for the best. Just to ease your mind.

~V~

- You don’t know where the dream came from, but when it hits you it hits like a truck.

- You had been out on a mission with V, fighting demons and clearing out a town’s infestation when you stopped to rest for the night.

- You were allowed to stay in a home in the town that was safe, doors locked and you and the poet falling asleep fast after a long day of fighting.

- Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was being exposed to blood and gore all day. But when you fell asleep you carried the images with you. The demon fighting, the sharp claws and teeth…it filled your dreams, making for a restless sleep.

- But you had been through that before, been through dreaming of demons and nightmares. But this one was different.

- You dreamt of them killing your poet, viciously and gruesomely. You had been around blood and gore, but this…this left you shaken.

- You were frozen, forced to stare at the scene in absolute horror. V’s head rolling off his shoulders, bouncing to your feet where he stared up at you with empty eyes.

- You jolted awake with a sharp gasp before the dream could go any further. Heart pounding, racing in your chest as you stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes. It was still dark out, the room a bit cold but welcome on your heated skin. It was jarring, bringing reality back hard.

- Your eyes stung with tears, hands coming up to cover your mouth and muffle a sob. It was awful, absolutely awful, you couldn’t shake that image from your head. The panic and fear lingered, drowning you and making your body tremble lightly.

- V was always a light sleeper, he felt your movements and heard the muffled whimpers. He stretched out beside you, rolling over and seeing the distraught look on your face.

- He sits up instantly, his hand stroking your hair back and his tone low and concerned.

- “Are you alright my heart?” He murmurs in his honeyed tone, jade eyes just barely visible in the darkness as he took you into his arms, “You’re shaking.”

- You shuddered, pressing your head to his chest and allowing a soft sob to burst from your lips. V immediately made a soothing sound, those deft stroking through your hair as he brought your down from the terrible emotions.

- You calmed after a few moments, leaning your head up and staring into his eyes. He stared back with concern, tilting his head as he wiped some of the beads of salty tears off of your cheeks.

- “Did you have a nightmare?” He murmured to you, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

- You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging yourself to him. He sucked in a breath at your actions, holding you close and stroking a hand up and down your back. He was used to you being a restless sleeper, used to you waking up on occasion. But never like this, never this shaken. Never this upset.

- “I…I dreamt that you died…” You mumbled against his tattooed skin, settling against his skinny frame with a soft sigh, “Maybe…Maybe it’s the fighting just getting to me…”

- Your words made his chest ache, his jade eyes closing as he held you a bit closer. He could understand where you were coming from, sometimes the fighting got to him as well. His sleep had always been tempered by bad dreams anyway.

- “After this mission, we should take a break,” He mused, tracing patterns on your back with his fingertips, “Head to Fortuna, stay with Nero and Kyrie for a bit…maybe some time at the beach would be nice. I can certainly use the sunlight.”

- His light teasing at his own pale skin made you smile a bit. He certainly was so pale, almost opaque.

- “I’d like that,” You mumble tiredly to him, body completely relaxed now and exhaustion hitting you after crying. Something about sobbing your eyes out left you so tired, “After this mission then…let’s take some time off.”

- V let out a low hum, his chest rumbling under your ear as he laid you both back down on the bed.

- You curled up on his chest, his heartbeat smooth and steady under your ear. So calming, so relaxing. A reminder that this was reality, and V was perfect and safe. You both were.

- V stroked a hand down your hair, watching your eyes start drifting closed as sleep reached its hands for you.

- “Sleep well, sparrow,” He murmured softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

#Dante #Vergil #V #dante x reader #vergil x reader #v x reader #dante devil may cry #vergil devil may cry #v devil may cry #head canon #nightmares

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writingamongtheroses-archive · 4 years

Text

Hell’s Studio, Chapter 10

It was the taller man from the picture, toonified.

His hair was more salt now, wrinkles lining his face. A white mustache sat on his upper lip. He wore a white shirt, the sleeves stained by ink, and a black tie and slacks. Over his shirt, he wore a grey sweater vest. He leaned on a cane now. He blinked in surprise. They stared at each other.

"...You're not Walt."

Exhaustion from being mistaken for her grandfather repeatedly might've made Suzie a little sassy. "No," she said, drawing the word out. "I'm certainly an old war veteran." The man blinked again before chuckling. Suzie couldn't help but smile a little bit at the warmth. "I'm Walt's great-grandaughter," she said, holding her hand out. "Suzanna Klasky, at your service, Mr...."

"Soundberg, Miss Klasky." Ice ran through her veins as he took her hand and shook it, quick but firm. Suzie was quick to pull her hand back when it was released. "So, Laika had grandchildren?"

"Um, yeah. Me and...I have two cousins." Max Soundberg seemed to mull over this information with a hum. "...She's dead, sir."

This seemed to catch him off guard. "R-Really?"

"The funeral was last week. A lady she'd hired to clean her house found her. They think that she passed away in her sleep." There was silence. "...She probably wasn't in any pain."

Max blinked, having been quiet. "That...that's good." He moved past her to settle in the seat behind the desk. It was odd, but, for a brief moment, the shadow of him and the seat looked like it had horns. He folded his hands and peered at her over them. "Now, Miss Suzanna Klasky. Why are you here?"

"I...Grandma sent me a letter." Suzie said, body screaming to run. "Before she died. She wanted me to find out what happened to Grandpa Walt. I ended up coming here- apparently, he was the latest in a list of missing Blur Studio employees."

He nodded. "That's my fault." He stood up. "Laika deserved an explanation. And if I can't explain it to her, I can at least explain it to you."

The two walked out of the office together. Despite leaning on the cane, Max's steps were sure. They were just to a door when there was a cry of "Suzie!" Wolfie was running down the hallway to them. He stopped in surprise. "Max!"

"You two have met?" The man said, looking between them.

"Uh...yeah. So have Daemon and Peace." Wolfie said, ears lowering. "I think we forgot to tell you." Max was silent. "I'm really sorry, Max."

"...It's alright!" Max smiled up at the wolf. "How about you wait out here while I show Suzie here all I've been working on?" Wolfie glanced at Suzie, nerves clear. She tried to give him a comforting smile. He settled on a nod. "Good! Now, Miss Klasky..."

He swept the door open in a dramatic flourish, revealing a cartoon version of the Machine. The door clicked shut behind Suzie. "My greatest achievement," Max said, relish clear in his voice. "The very thing that let me create this world. But," he turned in a movement that was sharper than a man using a cane should've done. "This did not begin with the Machine."

Before Suzie could say something, he continued. "This began in college. I was a junior and one day, I noticed a freshman. He was always drawing something in the classes we shared and I got curious." Max leaned forward. "His name was Walt Klasky, I learned. After I introduced myself to him, I well...started digging to learn more about him-"

"Wait, wait, wait. Wait." He stopped at her command. Suzie blinked before opening and closing her mouth. It took a bit before words came. "Are you...are you saying that you stalked Grandpa Walt?"

"More or less," Max said with a shrug. "I ended up befriending him in the end, so it doesn't really matter. We ended up becoming friends and one day, he said that the character he was drawing, Daemon Demon, would need more than a comic series. And that's when I got the idea."

"Blur Studios."

He snapped his fingers. "Blur Studios. We built this place from the ground up! The studio, these characters, this show was our masterpiece! AND THEN HE WANTED TO LEAVE IT!" Suzie started at the yell. "He said he had been drafted in but oh, oh I knew." Max's eyes were glazed over, lost in the past and looked half-wild. "He had been having problems ever since he went and got married to that woman before we started the studio."

"Grandma Ruth?"

"Ruth." The name was an angry hiss. "She whispered poison in his ear, complaining that he was here too long, that she hadn't seen him in days. That he wanted to leave me, leave me and our creations alone, well that was the last straw. I told him "If you leave now Walt, you better never return." And he did."

Max sighed, straightening. The wild look faded. "And then the studio failed. We went bankrupt. By leaving and never returning, Walt had doomed the studio. He should've been there."

"But you told him to leave!" Suzie said. He turned to her, seeming to have forgotten that he had an audience. "You said it yourself! He might've wanted to come back but he couldn't because you told him not to!"

"You're too young to understand." Max turned back to the Machine after his dismissal, staring at it. There was a small puddle of ink under the nozzle. Suzie gaped at him. "Suzanna, what do you know about life? About creating it, to be exact." Raising a brow at the sudden turn of the conversation, Suzie wasn't sure how to respond. "Or perhaps, we might call it the illusion of life."

A small black book was in his hand now. Silver words wrote out The Uses of Ink.

"Life begets life. It's the law of the universe."

Suzie felt cold.

"The first attempts," Max continued, "were ultimately failures. Blood sacrifices simply weren't enough. And without a guiding hand— without a concept of what it should become— the ink, well. Those creatures are now a violent, muddled mess."

"Wait, what-" Did she just miss something?

"So I moved forward and used full human sacrifices next."

Suzie stared at the man in horror. Max didn't notice.

Max scowled. "More rejects, but I was on the right path. Sentience had been achieved." He walked away from Suzie, right up to the Machine. Left alone, her wide eyes never left his back. "But then I wondered, was it too much? Hoping for progress, I expanded the sets. Instead of continuing to pursue my goal of life, I tried inanimate objects, with degrees of success. Even better, a single human sacrifice went a long way when it wasn't transferring life into a new form."

"Max!"

He turned then, taking her in. Her expression, the sweatdrop she felt rolling, her body language, all communicated the sudden fear she felt. Now they were at the murders.

"Tell me, Suzanna, do you not recognize your grandfather's own work?" She looked around at the setting. It did look like Walt's work but- "It was a mere pet project. Something to help with the art block. But there wasn't enough of the studio for him to draw. So Walt began drawing new rooms, new floors. When I found it, he had drawn about thirteen floors of this studio."

She shook her head. "That's not possible. How is that possible?"

"With this." Max rested a hand on the Machine's smooth surface. A dangerous gleam had entered his eyes. "This is the Machine, Walt- Suzanna. And with it...well, I can bring whatever I desire to life, merely by giving the Machine a picture of what to create. A drawing, anything from a simple sketch to a full work of art."

He paused there. Bitterness had entered his eyes.

"All worthwhile pursuits have limitations, though. The fine print, you could say. And this is mine. Those drawings I need? It has to be Walt that draws them."

"So that's why you called him back here?" Suzie said. Wolfie had to be getting worried and she still had no idea what happened to her grandpa. "To help you?" Silence met her. "Mr. Soundberg?"

"...He left me."

"Mr- Max?"

"He was always so good at pushing me. Pushing me to do better. When I needed him the most, he wasn't there to push me a little bit harder. And what happened? Daemon Demon burned." Max looked very old then, hunched over. He straightened. "I needed to punish him a little bit. So I used the Machine to do it. But...if you're here..."

Suzie suddenly felt very, very sick. "He's dead, isn't he." She had come expecting it but it still felt like a blow to the gut. "You tormented him over and over again and he ended up dying."

"...Yes."

She let out a sigh. She had found her answer.

"But...you can help me instead."

@andiwriteunderthemoon

#hell's studio #batim #wip #writblr #writeblr

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queenpersephonesgarden · 6 years

Text

little devil darling

Fandom: Bendy and the Ink Machine Characters: Thomas Connor, Joey Drew, Allison Connor, Bendy Word Count: 2408 Inspired by: @squigglydigg‘s rather wonderful theory about the end of Chapter 5, and the Halloween spirit!

Can also be read on FFN and AO3

Mr. Drew doesn’t invite Thomas along for the grand ceremony to herald the Ink Machine’s first awakening on Wednesday night, which suits Thomas just fine; even if he’d been ordered to attend, he wouldn’t have gone back to that studio at night for all the extra pay in the world.

He’s spent more than his fair share of sleepless nights holed up in the dim, flickering lights, all alone, tweaking and readjusting the damned thing over and over. Trying to bring this ‘great technical marvel’ Mr. Drew had clumsily designed to life in a way that actually worked less on belief and prayers and more on engineering and logic. He’s not exactly eager to return unless the sun is up and there are at least a handful of other employees already there, thank you very much.

So, Thomas isn’t there the night the machine finally works, but he arrives the Thursday morning afterwards to see the results after a lengthy, half-coherent phone call with Mr. Drew, who’d been too excited to get half his words out.

He comes in a couple hours early because at least Mr. Drew promised a bit of overtime, and he is a bit curious to see what exactly resulted from the boss man’s special experiment. But when he enters the chamber where the infamous Machine is glugging away gallons of the studio’s precious ink, Thomas is suddenly really wishing he’d taken that vacation Allison had suggested.

“What in the hell?”

The question kind of slips out without Thomas really meaning it to, because Christ Almighty, there is a hulking, dripping thing lurking just in Mr. Drew’s shadow, and for a moment Thomas is afraid to make any sudden moves, attract its attention, but his voice seems to have already done that, if the eerie way it turns its malformed head towards him is any indication.

Thomas can’t help but swallow hard as a goopy, unsettling grin slowly tilts curiously to the side, like it’s watching him, but before he can start retreating out the door the way he came Mr. Drew finally spins away from the Machine.

“Isn’t he wonderful?!” Thomas has never seen Mr. Drew so ecstatic before, face alight with a joy that had all but faded in the last few years of the studio’s decline into bankruptcy. He’s standing up tall and straight as he can without leaning on his cane, like he’s trying to appear as large as the thing standing behind him. “I knew you had it in you, Mr. Connor! Your redesigns really did the trick, my boy! It stopped clogging and accepted the model just like you said it would!”

The compliments practically fly over Thomas’ head, as most of his attention is fastened to the monstrosity Mr. Drew seems to be ignoring rather masterfully.

“Sir,” Thomas coughs, because God, what the hell- “What- uh, what did you-?”

“Oh, he’s just marvelous, isn’t he?!” Mr. Drew turns right around and beams up at the oozing monster like it’s the best Christmas present he’s ever seen, and Thomas feels a chill go down his spine when the thing just angles its head down and continues grinning back even though from here it doesn’t look like it can properly see, what with its eyes being nonexistent. “He’s just a prototype, but he came right out on the first try! I didn’t even have to reset the levers or anything; he crawled right out after the sketch was put in!”

“‘He?’” Thomas asks weakly. There’s a lot more he should be saying – hell, there’s plenty he should be screaming at this point – but his brain is refusing to cooperate. Words are completely failing him, because his eyes can barely comprehend what they’re seeing.

Mr. Drew cheers a bit, shaking his cane around in excitement, and if he were a younger man he might have broken into a happy jig.

“Yes! Bendy, of course!” he says, and.

What?

Is that what this is supposed to be?

Looming just behind Mr. Drew’s shoulder, the thing sways a little bit, like a sudden breeze might make it topple over and crush him.

Thomas musters something that might resemble an understanding smile, and backs out of the room as slowly as he can, trying not to look like he’s running away.

Mr. Drew hardly seems to notice his departure, ecstatically circling back around the Machine, chanting words that aren’t even English and waving his arms around like a loon.

Back where it had been left, the thing that might be Bendy the Dancing Demon hadn’t taken its attention off of Thomas, head still tilted to watch his exit, still smiling smiling smiling.

Once he reaches the corner, Thomas gives up on any pretenses and books it out of there like a bat out of hell.

He can still feel the thing’s invisible eyes on him all the way out of the studio.

While the experiment might seem like a success in some ways, in many ways it most definitely is not.

The strange, towering husk is almost nothing like the little devil darling it’s supposed to be.

Sure, it’s got the iconic horns and the unnaturally wide grin of its cartoon counterpart, but that’s about where the similarities end.

This thing is tall, unnaturally so, like its body is made out of taffy that’s been stretched out too long. It’s horns nearly brush the ceiling and its arms are nearly as long as it’s body. One hand has the glove reminiscent of the real Bendy, while the other is just an ugly, black paw, fingers jagged and curled slightly like claws.

And it drips everywhere, continuously oozing puddles and streaks of dark ink all across the ground wherever it goes, staining the floor just as much as all the damned burst pipes always do.

“It’s a damn menace!” Sammy Lawrence snarls at lunch time, voice booming through the breakroom like it usually does when he’s in a terrible mood and he needs everyone else to know. “Fuckin’ freak thinks it can wander into my studio and-! There’s ink all over the damned walls! How the hell am I supposed to write a damned thing when half my papers are soaked darker than Satan’s soul?!”

Thomas, picking wordlessly at his lukewarm tuna sandwich, watches Eddie and Marge and Frankie all nod seriously in agreement, and can’t help pursing his lips.

The animators and half the rest of the staff are practically in an uproar about the thing, which has meandered its way all across the studio and back in the day and a half since it was brought into existence. At first, they were too creeped out by its’ appearance to say much against Mr. Drew, but ever since it started seriously disrupting people’s work with its random disappearing-reappearing through walls act, they’d been getting a little more vocal about their displeasure in private, where neither the boss man or the thing in question could hear them.

Sammy looks about five seconds away from storming out of the room and demanding a word with Joey, and honestly Thomas is almost tempted to let him; if there’s anyone in this place that can kick up enough of a storm to actually get Mr. Drew’s attention, it’s Sammy Lawrence and his sharp tongue and even sharper temper.

But the same, creeping feeling of being watched is still on him, even now, hours later and with the thing not even in the room, and Thomas isn’t feeling up to pressing his luck right now.

“You managed just fine when the pipes burst, yeah?” he dares to ask, raising an eyebrow at Sammy’s outraged sputtering.

This could become a nice, distracting argument, but even thinking about defending the monster is killing Thomas’s appetite, and he shoves back from the table with a scowl.

“Up yours, Connor!” Sammy hollers after him as he heads out into the hallway.

Thomas waves over his shoulder and skirts around a fresh ink puddle without looking.

Thomas gets called in to deal with another burst pipe in the animator’s department, and ain’t it just his great luck that he finds the thing standing right in the middle of the room, hunched over a bit to accommodate for its massive height and the low ceiling, smiling smiling smiling in that creepy way it does as it seemingly watches Mr. Drew with poor Frankie at the man’s desk.

“It needs to be completely on model this time, Mr. Chambers,” Mr. Drew’s voice is poisonously sweet as he loomed ominously over the animator, expression calm but the look in his eyes bordering on murderous as he stared Frankie down.

Thomas winces in sympathy as Frankie gestures uselessly at whatever is on his desk, face set in a stubborn scowl that’ll probably get him fired.

“Sir, ya said so yourself; the sketches I gave you yesterday were on model! Those Bendy’s looked like every other cartoon we’ve ever released, they were perfect, so I don’t see how it’s my fault the-” he coughed a bit, glanced at the shadow standing right in the middle of the room, and grimaced. “-the model your Machine spat out is as deformed as it is! Maybe you should be taking a look at-!”

“The Machine worked exactly as it was supposed to!” Mr. Drew snapped, and Thomas pretends very hard like he’s studying the leaking pipe he’s over here to fix, because the Machine was working just fine when he’d been working on it, but that was back before all the weird voodoo shit was thrown in, and he’s not sure he wants to see what would happen if he decided to mention that.

Another chill goes shooting up his spine, and Thomas glances over his shoulder to find the thing slowly drifting closer to the wall he’s working next to as both Frankie and the boss man continue their little discussion.

His entire body stiffens at the thing’s approach, and Thomas is just contemplating how much trouble he’s likely to get in if he reaches for his wrench and takes a swing at it, but he doesn’t need to worry; the thing drifts farther and farther to the right until it reaches the corner opposite Thomas. It hits the wall, and Thomas half expects it to phase through the wood like it’s been doing all damn day, but instead it just sort of leans listlessly against it, unmoving for a long minute, until its form slowly crumples up into an awkward, misshapen ball, like a pouting child in timeout.

The comparison does nothing for Thomas’s nerves, and neither does the sudden thud and the sound of paper ripping coming from Frankie’s desk.

“Just do better this time, Mr. Chambers!” Mr. Drew is still smiling that unhappy smile as he walks away, limping heavily even with his cane, not even looking back when Frankie throws up his hands in frustration and proceeds to rip up even more papers from his desk.

“Whatever you say, sir,” Frankie mutters sourly, gathering up his ink pot and a few folders before stalking out after the boss, expression thunderous.

The door slams closed after the duo’s dramatic exit, and Thomas is left with the horrifying realization that he is alone in here, and that thing is also very much still here.

Ruined scraps of paper float gently off Frankie’s desk after it’s owner’s hasty departure, and they scatter a bit across the floor.

In the corner of the room, the thing has started to rock back and forth. A disturbing choking sound is emanating from the back of its throat, and Thomas can feel gooseflesh rising up all along his arms as it thumps it’s head gently against the wall with a gentle splat-splat, staining the wall with ink.

If Thomas didn’t know any better, he’d say it was crying, curled up like a frightened kid and making itself as small as possible.

“Would you stop that?”

He doesn’t mean to talk to it. He doesn’t want to talk to it, because it’s not a fucking person, but it’s crying and he doesn’t know why.

Thomas’s throat rasped, voice curiously strained for some reason. His tone was a lot quieter than he’d meant it to be, but if he tried to go any louder he might really start screaming. “You’re Drew’s special little project, ya hear? You ain’t got nothin’ to cry about. Stop that.”

A half-finished sketch of what looks like Boris the Wolf lands on Thomas’s shoe, and he shakes it off with a scowl.

The thing chokes a little louder, and Thomas gets up and grabs his toolbox and walks back out of the room. Someone else can deal with the leak for now. He’s really not in the mood.

Allison finds him, after work is over for the day and he’s still packing up his things. She bursts into the room like she’d run all the way here from the recording studio, entire body trembling like a leaf in a storm and eyes haunted.

He doesn’t ask, just opens his arms and holds onto her when she falls into him with a gasp.

“I said ‘hi’ to it,” she whispers, voice so hoarse he can barely hear it even when her chin is pressed into his shoulder. “It came up behind me, and I wasn’t thinking, and I said ‘hi’ because I thought it was Sammy and it- I thought-”

She sobs hard, can’t speak for a moment, and Thomas can’t do anything but tighten his arms around her, ignore the angry fire banking in his gut as she shakes apart.

“It said- I thought it said ‘Hi Alice’, and the voice-! The sounds it made- oh, god, Tom, that’s not human, whatever it is, and it’s- it’s so sad-!”

Words fail her, and Allison buries her face into his neck and cries her heart out.

Above them, Thomas listens to ink flow sluggishly through the pipes. It never sounded so much like a moaning voice, before.

Thomas hands in his resignation letter the Monday after a long weekend of thinking.

Marching back out of the studio with his head held high, he ignores the stares of his former colleagues and keeps his shaking hands balled into fists at his sides.

The ink thing that might be Bendy wanders past him on the way out, face still dripping inky tears and smiling smiling smiling all the while.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #fanfiction #squigglydigg #my writing #Bendy the Dancing Demon #Thomas Connor #Joey Drew #Allison Connor #Allison Pendle #Halloween

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madscientistjournal · 5 years

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I Didn't Break the Lamp: Interview with Jacob Budenz

Photo by Clare Welsh

Today’s interview is with Jacob Budenz, a new addition to the Mad Scientist Journal family!

DV: Tell us a bit about yourself!

Jacob Budenz: In addition to being a writer, I’m a multi-disciplinary performer (singer, piano player, actor, performance artist, director, composer—basically everything but dance, which I’m pretty lousy at). I also work as a “freelance educator,” which feels a little bit sexier than saying “adjunct professor.” During grad school, I made my living as a street Tarot reader, and I still pick up gigs doing readings from time to time.

DV: What inspired you to write “Seen” for I Didn’t Break the Lamp?

JB: You know, the first paragraph, which was of course way longer and even more meandering in earlier drafts, was originally a journal entry between my first and second semesters of grad school. I was cranking out way more writing in shorter spans of time than I was used to, and I think I was worried I’d lost my “mojo,” so to speak. The first paragraph was sort of a “look around you, idiot” letter to myself. I’d decorated my bedroom with all manner of wacky curiosities, from pink skull busts to paintings of demons to these tiny jewel-shaped string lights that looked sort of like tiny glowing fairies. So at the time, the opening paragraph was just a reminder to myself that I only needed to look a little harder to see there was magic everywhere. A few weeks later, I was thinking about that little passage, and I thought, but what if someone had squinted at the floorboards and suddenly realized the world was full of these little fairies? Then, of course, the story emerged and evolved into what became kind of a love letter to modern queer loneliness. So what started as a pep talk to myself about inspiration became the inspiration for my next piece. I actually wrote the piece a couple years ago, spent way too much time revising it, saw your call for submissions, and thought, “Wow, that seems like the perfect home for this weird little tale!”

DV: Your characters in your story seem so natural and realistic. Are they based on specific people you know, or an amalgam of traits?

JB: Thanks! Definitely an amalgam of traits. I spent my early adult life in Baltimore, where there’s a really thriving art scene and tons of wonderful artists. And then there are the Mitches of the world, usually recent art school grads in my experience, who can be so unaware of how snobby they sound that it’s actually kind of endearing. I definitely dated a Mitch or two in my early twenties, though of course the Mitch in the story is kind of a cartoon of a bunch of different people. As far as Ron goes, I’m not really sure where he came from; I don’t really know anybody who’s that negative all the time. I think he came from an amalgamation of fears of mine; at the time, in particular, I was pretty severely injured and couldn’t exercise at any capacity, so I was probably the most out of shape I’d ever been. So Ron’s relationship with gay dating as being not “hairy” enough to be this, not skinny enough to be that, emerged from my thoughts on what it means to slip outside of certain categories or expectations of the gay male gaze. While I have a partner and a perfectly fulfilling social life (unlike my protagonist), I’ve definitely been in places of really dark, desperate loneliness like he has, and so I was imagining how I’d be if my body issues spiraled out of control, and if I was alone, and if I didn’t feel like I had anything in common with the people around me. So I wouldn’t say there’s “a lot of me in Ron” or anything (I certainly do not walk through the world with that level of harsh, persistent snark), but I really did my best to inhabit that kind of headspace when I was writing this.

DV: What is the coolest part of being a writer?

JB: That’s a great question! People don’t ask this enough. It’s always stuff like, “What’s the hardest thing about being a writer.” I’d say, for me, I have a blast coming up with really absurd concepts (or pulling stuff from my extremely vivid dreams) and finding the connections between issues I really care about. I joke that I’m “re-mythologizing” the queer other, as opposed to demythologizing, which means even if I’m grounding queer characters in sincere, real world issues, I’m putting them in these larger-than-life situations and writing new myths and allegories to illustrate our lived experiences. Another cool thing, which I’m sure any writer will tell you, is having the excuse to build extremely niche, specialized knowledge. I’m sure I’m on some kind of watch list. My search history features punctuation-free questions like “what happens to the body when a child is murdered outside of their home state” or, most recently, “Does your blood smell any different if you’re pregnant?”

DV: If you had an imaginary friend growing up, what was their name, and what were they like?

JB: I guess that depends on your definition of “imaginary” and “friend.” I was raised as a born-again Christian and sent to Baptist school from 4th-12th grade, so I talked to God a lot? Congruently—and this is the kicker—I’ve sort of always been a witch at the same time. When I was a kid I had a tree I talked to all the time by the courts where my mom played tennis. I collected stones and crystals and talked to them, and to animals, and to the stars, all that. I imagined they responded sometimes, but mostly they were just good listeners. You might say the Christian God and I haven’t been friends for quite some time, but we had a good run and I hope it’s no hard feelings on either side. I’m still an out-and-out witch though, far more than before, so I guess depending on your perspective I have plenty of, well, principalities I talk to that the average person might think of as imaginary.

DV: What’s on the horizon for you?

JB: I’ve got another piece coming out in an anthology through Lycan Valley Press; it’s about a gay medieval scholar who gets trapped in a cafe bathroom with a sentient interstellar octopus, in case you were wondering. I’m also beginning the daunting process of compiling materials to query agents and get my novel published. I’ll withhold the details on that, for now, though. Since I graduated from my MFA program in December, I’ve been focusing mostly on performance. In the spring, I was hired to compose and music direct for this adaptation of the The Tempest through the lens of climate change and colonialism, cast as the lead in Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens, and brought on to work on a comedic show about feminist performance art with one of my favorite artists, Chris Ferrera, which we just closed and will tour in the fall. In July, I’m having a comeback show with my psychedelic witchpop band, Moth Broth, which was on hiatus while I was in grad school, and now we’re working on finishing our debut album. So I think the second half of this year I’ll focus mostly on music, publishing my novel, and reclaiming my writing habit, which I’ve taken a wee bit of a vacation from in the past six months!

I Didn’t Break the Lamp: Interview with Jacob Budenz was originally published on Mad Scientist Journal

#I Didn't Break the Lamp #Interview #Jacob Budenz

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scatter-kinnin-patter · 5 years

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Do you have memories? Which characters do you have memories as?

Ohhhhh thank you for asking!!! I don’t have memories for everyone but I’ll write out a few for each one I do~!

Michael Afton[FNaF]: I have memories of before everything went wrong- when it was just me and my siblings and everything was okay. I’d spend a lot of time in our basement, which was cold and dark and full of spare animatronic parts, but I loooved exploring the place. I remember Sister Location pretty vividly, especially the vents. Remember the scooping scene a bit too well. I remember how it felt when Father held me and how devastated I was I met Scraptrap for the first time. Died in FFPS :(

Damien/Darkiplier[Markiplier’s egos]: I uh- remember how Wilford killed me, actually. Got into a fight, he confessed to murdering Mark, and as I went to turn around and tell the others, got shot in the back. Of course, water under the bridge, and we’ve since reconciled. I dated my Anti and Wil and- believe it or not- lived with the other Markiplier egos. I think Google and Host were my platonic favorites. Yan was like a daughter to me. I died from health complications due to being so unstable as a demon.

Geno[SMRPG]: Okay, biggest deviation from canon: I HAD CLOTHES. ... Actually I’ll do you one better: I was Smithy’s son, sooo... yeah, awkward. He adopted the Weapons, so every member of the Smithy Gang was technically my half-sibling! I was closest with Yaridovich and Bowyer. I frequently came back to Earth after the events of SMRPG, though I had a tangible “spirit form” rather than having to possess a doll every time. My Mario was mute, and I was good friends with Luigi. Bowser and I were like- platonic husbands. Had a huge thing for Dreambert from Mario and Luigi: Dream Team tho

Roxas[Kingdom Hearts]: Twilight Town and The World That Never Was always felt like home to me. Remember the scraped knees from falling off my skateboard. I remember how close I was to Axel(Xion too, though those memories are more faint). My strongest memories are from KH2. Axel and I were like brothers and Sora and I actually dated! I was so relieved in KH3 when I could finally meet him face to face and fight alongside him, all while protecting my squad!

Scott/PG[FNaF]: I remember where I worked. It wasn’t in Hurricane Utah, but rather somewhere Pacific Northwest. I would always sneak away to the woods, only to look out onto the city that stretched out below. Cold nights of exploring abandoned playgrounds and buildings. Working at the FNaF 1 location- Freddy and I grew pretty close, actually. We had sort of a platonic relationship going on! I died FNaF 1 though, remember THAT pretty vividly. Strangled via phone cord and shove in a suit :(

Bendy[BatIM]: I remember the studio, and how the wooden boards would feel as I walked around. It got cold in the winter. I could flow between my normal cartoon form, my ink demon form, and my beast form- though that one took the most out of me. I had a tail, and lemme tell ya I was essentially a cat. I remember my Henry and how much I loved being with him(after I tried to kill him, whoops), and he would always carry my around or let me ride on his shoulders. Sammy and I were tight too after he got over his whole cult shtick. ... Okay Sammy and I actually had a romance thing going on ;) I remember spending a lot of time around Joey- how he moved and how his voice sounded and how he talked to us- though oddly I can’t seem to remember his face.

Lawless[Servamp]: MY LICHT WAS THE BEST! Sorry, had to get that off my chest, I just love my angel! Though we were a lot more of a healthy relationship than what was shown in canon, my Licht wasn’t as tsundere... at least, after our big fight he wasn’t. I vividly remember when my dogtag was broken and how it nearly killed me, and I remember Licht holding me tight when I needed him most. I was closest to Kuro out of all of my siblings, though I loved them all.

Link/Masky[Zelda: OoT+MM]: I mainly only remember my time in Majora’s Mask, though I have quite a few memories of Ocarina of Time, too(mainly Kokiri Forest, Castle Town, and Death Mountain). I would often wear a Keaton mask, and actually had a “I’m not a hero” complex. I was meticulous, analytical, and didn’t speak much. Lived in my journal, actually. My favorite weapon other than my sword was my bow! I remember the “into the moon” scene extremely vividly. After my death, I came in contact with the other reincarnations of Link, befriending them all. I was closest with Twilight Princess Link(we called him Wolfy), for obvious reasons.

Virgil Sanders[Sanders Sides]: Tis I, the former dark side, muahaha! There isn’t much I remember outside of what we see in canon, but I remember Patton being like a father to me. I was also in a poly relationship with Logan, Roman, and Deceit! I’d often spend my time chilling in everyone else’s rooms, especially Logan’s, and was big on stargazing.

Taako Taako[The Adventure Zone: Balance]: hOW COULD I FORGET MY SISTERRRRR,,, I pretty vividly remember the race from Pedals to the Metal(esp throwing myself off our car and how goofy we were crossing the finish line) and The Eleventh Hour+The Suffering Game. I had a normal/human skin tone instead of the canon blue, and had REALLY colorful hair. I loved Kravitz, but I was also r e a l l y in love with Magnus. Like- I can’t stress enough how gay I was for the bisaster that is Maggy.

Ethan[Pokemon Silver]: I’m Gold from Silver(not SoulSilver, for some reason). I was always on a pair of roller blades or some other wheeled device, and I was pretty loud and arrogant XD I had a Cyndaquil and toootally dated Silver. I remember fighting Red atop Mt. Silver... where we both ended up needing medical attention due to hypothermia, oops. I was also tight with Blue and Kris! I remember befriending Lugia, though never caught them. For me, Johto was very mountainous and woodsy, with lots of golds and autumn colors- the buildings were also older(typically wooden) and traditional!

#~asks~#💜Michael💜#🖤Dark🖤#💙Geno💙#💛Roxas💛#💖PG💖#🖤Bendy🖤#🧡Lawless🧡#💚Link💚#💜Virgil💜#💙Taako💙#💛Ethan💛#fictionkin #thank you for this ask!!! it was fun to remember~!!!#Nonnies

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sadlove4you · 5 years

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The 30 Day Tumblr Challenge

We are at it again bois.

Day 3 - My Favourite TV Show/Series

Okay so I don’t know why I’m excited to tell you my favourite shows. I definitely have a few of my favourites, also cartoon shows and anime if that counts lol

Okay starting off with:

1. OnMyBlock

You guys don’t understand how obsessed I am with this show!! This is one of my #1 favourites and now S2 is coming in a few days like holy shiit, feels like we been waiting forever. Watching the teaser and seeing Ruby opening his eyes at the end at me jumping 😂. I mean if they were thinking of not putting Ruby in S2 and he died then I ain’t watching S2. But can I say that Spooky is is fine as hell 😍 But anyway I recommend you guys go watch it, it’s da best, if you into that teen drama.

2. The Office

I love the Office, I always wanted to watch it from seeing memes on insta or Facebook all the time and now I finally got the chance too. It’s so funny and you just get every joke and just laugh. Also one good thing too is every episode is so entertaining and you don’t get bored. So if you wanting to find a new tv show to watch then come to this one. Another thing is that I love Michael’s personality, just trying to be the cool boss and even tho some episodes he can be annoying but then his very caring at the same time. Its cute how he finds everyone like a second family to him. Also can never get enough of Jim’s pranks on Dwight.

3. Black Mirror

Gotta say this is a pretty interesting tv series, I thought it would be one of those shows that just drag on but literally every episode is different and has its own story. I like how some of the episodes try to connect to the real world and what we do in our society. Also the fancy technology in this series sis pretty impressive but same time don’t want that type of technology being invented now lol I would have to say one of my favourite episode would have to be S4 Ep 4 - Hang the DJ. I was so confused at first and thinking the couple were trapped in some sort of game or world but at the end when it was them in a simulation for a actually a dating app, just blew my mind. That it was the process of the dating app to find the perfect match was really impressive. Also there’s a few keys points on how we work our dating life in the real world. But I was also happy there was a happy ending not like it is with Black Mirror. Another one of my favourite was S3 Ep1 - Nosedive just because I could relate to how we get sucked in the social media world and not in the real world. I more based on the you know you always wanting so many followers on social media and all these likes on your photos from people who you hardly hangout. Just seeing people or friends more higher then you, you kind of get that feeling you wish you were like that. Another thing too is now a days we see heaps and heaaappsss of fitness models that really hit you with ‘I want a body like that’ It kind of puts your self esteem down and trying to love your own body. I mean yes some models do help and motivate you to workout and all that but you gotta put in a lot of work and I’m just too lazy 😂

3. The End of the F***ing World

It’s a very unique show I must say. Even though James intention was to murder Alyssa in the first place but I still love the relationship between the two even though it was an unusual connection. But James came to fall in love with Alyssa eventually. If it weren’t for that creepy dude he murdered then we probably would of had a different story.

Okay now I’m getting into my favourite cartoon/anime shows

1. Tokyo Ghoul

One of my favourite anime series ever. Love a bit of action and gore which is what this series showed. Note that I’m not into the romantic animes, it kinda bores me. But honestly S3 was complete shit and was so confusing. Didn’t even connect with the last 2 seasons. But the other 2 seasons was 👌🏾 Noice.

2. Berserk

Listen if you want a bit of more gore and action then you should watch this. Love this show, literally finished it in a day and a half 😅. Guts is the main man and is probably my favourite character. But just a warning the ending is kinda fucked up and dark but I literally kept watching in confusion because it just escalated so quickly. I even read a few articles on what the ending meant but I’m still confused but overall still love the show. Was sad that everyone died suddenly expect Casca as one of the remake movies showed she survived but was obviously traumatised and lost her mind. Then had a demon baby which was fucked.

3. Rick & Morty

Gotta love this show man. Never knew I would like a show like this and understand all the humor 😂

4. Regular Show, Adventure Time & Amazing world of Gumball

If you don’t know what’s these shows are then GTFO! Jks but seriously these are pretty much the best cartoon shows ever, especially on Cartoon Network. Literally watch these shows growing up but I had a little sister that would watch these shows with me and our dad didn’t like it because of the crude humor and so on. So I haven’t watch these in awhile and going back to them is so nostalgic. It’s sad that these 3 shows had to end. I mean obviously a show gotta end somewhere but still. It won’t be the same :(

5. Love Death + Robots

I got to say this is a very interesting series. The animation was amazing but I was gobsmacked at the CGI which looked soooo realistic in some episodes. Literally finished it in a day. I mean yes it is a bit graphic but overall it was funny, dark and imaginative. But I do understand the sexual violence towards women in the series but at the end they got their revenge. But to say Sonnies Edge was probably my favourite episode and hope we can get a series happening or I’ll be disappointed haha.

——————————————————————————

Okayy I guess I’m done. Idk why I was so excited to talk about this topic for some reason. But tbh I’m not really a huge tv show fan as I mentioned before sometimes shows drag on and it gets really boring and I just move on to the next show. I mean these shows above are probably the only ones I enjoy the most out of every other show.

A good example of a show that drags on is Riverdale, literally. I hate this show so much and idk how people are still watching it. First season was really good then it just got worst. I mean is it just me or Veronica is really annoying and being with Archie is even worse.

Also another show that pissed me off was Shameless! ughhh really ticked me off when Debby eventually had the baby and the way she acts so stubborn literally fucked me right off. You know when you watch a show and it just doesn’t go the way it should and then you just stop watching. Also Game of Thrones, I’m that percent of people that hasn’t watch this shit at all. I recommend if you haven’t watch this show then don’t start because literally every episode is an hour and there’s like what, 20 odd episodes in the 6S. So good luck if you gonna start. But I did watch the first 2 episodes of S1 but it’s kinda weird with the brother sister thing lol I should just make a post of all the shows I hate and why 😂

But anywayyy sorry if this was soo long. Didn’t think it would be and it sucked because I couldn’t put more gifs in haha But if your feeling bored then recommended watching a few of these bad boys I have put down but if you have any that don’t drag on and are actually worth watching and not boring. Then please tell because I don’t want to start watching a show and then get disappointed during it.

Alright then see you guys tomorrow for Day 4

#day 3 #30 day challenge #tumblr challenge #tv shows #anime #tv series #bored #favourite #OMB #Black Mirror #tokyo ghoul #yeet #follow me

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hufflepuff-ravenclaw-reviews · 5 years

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Titans Season 1 Episode 1

Those of you who know me, know that I can be pretty obsessive over super heroes while also remaining as a casual fan. I spent a lot of my teenage years watching the original animated Teen Titans series on Cartoon Network. So when I found out that somebody made a live action Teen Titans... obviously I had to check it out.

(Please also let it be known that I went in keeping my expectations low. Can't be disappointed if you were expecting disappointment.)

The first episode starts off with a bit of backstory for all of the characters. However, as you might imagine, we're going along separate routes until all five of them can meet up.

And if you've been following this blog for a while, you're probably well aware of my feelings of split story-lines like this.

So first off is Rachel Roth, or as you're probably more familiar with her as: Raven.

She's just a normal teenage girl, being raised by an insane Christian woman. No, seriously. There was a shot of outside of Rachel's bedroom door, and the door was covered in crosses. There was also a scene in which Rachel wanted to talk about the things that were happening to her, but her mother refused to speak with her, and only just wanted to pray. (Demonic child aside, you wonder why your kid's got issues.)

Rachel has...??? Premonition dreams of what happened to Dick Grayson's parents, but we'll get back to that in a minute. She's also a teenager who's briefly shown to be mildly unpopular and bullied a bit at school. And she's smack-dab in the middle of her teenage gothic years. Relatable.

But, she comes home from school one day only to find le cliched bald-headed man in a suit threatening her mother. He makes Mrs. Roth tell Rachel that she's adopted, but even when she does that, the man still kills her. Rachel uses her powers– seemingly unwittingly– to slam the man up against a wall and escape.

She gets a bus ticket to Detroit, where she goes to a homeless shelter/soup kitchen for something to eat. There, a random lady who presents herself as the soup kitchen worker tries to get Rachel into her already running car. Meanwhile, the thing inside of Rachel (that I will call “Raven” for the time being) tries to warn her to run away. Which... to Rachel, is starting to sound like a better and better idea. She runs off, sees a cop-car driving past, picks up a brick, and chucks it at the car. The officer arrests Rachel... without bothering to ask why she's running and screaming from a seemingly harmless woman. Ugh.

And now, to introduce Dick Grayson, who is probably one of the more famous super heroes of all time. For those of us who've never seen a super hero show in their life, this is the first Robin of Batman and Robin fame.

Unlike Rachel, Dick is older, probably in his mid to late twenties. He's a police detective who's just moved to Detroit from Gotham. And he's one of those hard-edged cops who don't need nobody and he doesn't like to play by the rules.

It was established early on in the episode that he's still holding onto his Robin persona, despite the fact that nobody has seen or heard from him in over a year. He resurfaces in Detroit to kick the ass of some drug dealers, but one in particular who beat up his little girl. (Major kudos for that, good sir.)

However, the police in Detroit aren't exactly happy about getting their own masked vigilante. A lot of this minor sub-plot is told through TV news footage in the background. “Citizens say 'go away' to Robin”, etc.

There's also some sort of underlying thing that at some point, Robin had a falling out with Batman... Hence his being in Michigan rather than Gotham.

When Rachel is brought into the station, the chief asks Dick to go talk to her, asking “don't you have a way with kids?”

Because of Rachel's dreams about The Flying Graysons, Rachel almost instantly knows who he is. She starts talking about how his parents fell to their deaths. Dick just finds it... weird.

Rachel finally tells him that her mother was killed in front of her, which earns her some sympathy points. However, it's obviously some distance between the two cities, so Dick makes a call to the city where Rachel is from to have somebody swing by the Roth house and check things out.

When the officer gets back to Dick about finding Mrs. Roth murdered, he goes back to get her... Only to find that she's not in the questioning room. He tries to leave the building just in time to see an “officer” driving away with a drugged Rachel in the back of his police car.

When Rachel comes to, she finds that she's been strapped to a chair by Mr. Creepy Baldo. He starts saying a lot of... weird stuff. Like how about she's a doorway and so on. Now, as a Teen Titans fan, I remember Raven's show down with her demonic father. But to Rachel Roth, a teenager who just watched her mother get murdered and who doesn't understand the first thing about her powers? This guy is insane and he's probably going to kill her. He starts doing some sort of bizarre ritual including stabbing a heart he had sitting in a bowl. Cause that seems normal.

Dick (as police officer Dick, not Robin) manages to track the police car that took Rachel, which was a shit move on part of those kidnappers. He takes out the corrupt officer, before he hears Rachel screaming upstairs. However, Baldo stuffs a rag into Rachel's mouth, but her Raven powers kick into gear. She slams the door shut just as Dick runs up to it. She then...??? Possesses Baldo, and then there's a creepy-cool cloud of locusts that burst from his mouth. He keels over dead, and the door opens back up. Dick runs into the room, and sees 1) man lying in a pool of blood, clearly very dead 2) a poor teenage girl who's handcuffed to a chair, several feet away from the dead body.

After he frees her, he takes her down to his car, and promises to take her someplace safe.

And now, for something completely different: Kori Anders, aka Starfire.

Now for the record, I'd like to say that Starfire is currently black. And I'm okay with that. What I'm not okay with is that she looks like a trashy hooker with a bad weave.

She wakes up in the front passenger's side of a car that has skidded off the road, seemingly after somebody shot at the car. The driver is dead, although it's unclear if he was shot or if the crash killed him. Kori seems dazed and confused... but runs off when some people in a car some up and start shooting at her.

After regathering herself in a bathroom, she eventually finds her way to her hotel room. There, she finds a man tied up in the closet. Kori seems overly confused about literally everything, and tries to ask him for answers. The main one is “who is the man in this photo” on her phone. This results in a fight, in which Kori discovers that she has some sort of inhuman strength. She ends up killing the man, and not on accident.

She ends up at some sort of nightclub, where she goes into the office and talks with the owner. He seems like the kind of guy who keeps the nightclub as a front for drugs and sex trafficking. Kori says that his two “muscle” tried to gun her down. The man responds by shooting at Kori... But then Kori uses her star-fire. Now, in the animated series, her power wasn't exactly not-dangerous, but at the same time, it might be considered kind of...??? Cute? This is not cute. This is a literal fireball that completely incinerated the three men and half of the office IN SECONDS.

And yet somehow, managed to avoid destroying a school photo of Rachel Roth. Kori doesn't know what's going on, but she seems interested in getting to the bottom of everything.

Finally, the last few minutes of the first episode are dedicated to Beastboy breaking into an electronic store to steal some video games. Except... as a tiger. Much to the horror of the insanely disturbed night security guard.

Overall, I enjoyed the first episode, and I'll eagerly go into the second. But at this point, I could see the show easily swinging in either direction of being a hot mess like a lot of main DC stuff is now, or just being really awesome.

#Titans #The Ravenclaw mod

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there-must-be-a-lock · 7 years

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Of Bullets and Big Buck Hunter

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~2300

Warnings: Language, as always, but this one is pretty tame.

Written for @reigningqueenofwords Aim to Misbehave challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in this :) love me some Firefly. My prompt was “Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

“The usual?” Katie asks, before you can even flop down onto your stool.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” you say. “How’s your momma doin’? Any better today?”

“Oh, you know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” you grimace. You’ve spent it working on a murder case, a fucking grisly one, which is not a normal thing for your tiny town, but Katie doesn’t need to know anything about that. She slides you a Jameson and ginger and you take a grateful sip.

Katie’s wiggling her eyebrows in a way that should maybe be meaningful, but mostly just looks like a seizure.

“What?” you ask. She jerks her head to the side a couple times, then raises her eyebrows and looks pointedly next to you, and you turn and look, which turns out to be a total mistake, because your mouth drops open a bit and you’re afraid your eyes are bugging out like a cartoon character. You get an impression of jaw and stubble and cheekbones, and then he’s turning to look at you. His eyes are green and gold and gorgeous, and you are 100% staring, shit.

“Hey,” he says, and his tongue flicks out over his lower lip.

“Hi,” you squeak.

“Sam,” he says. The hand he holds out for you to shake is strong and rough, and you never knew you had a thing for hands but this particular hand makes you feel feverish in a really nice way.

You manage to croak out your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “You live around here?” He has dimples. Like cute little Shirley Temple dimples.

“Yup, born and raised,” you say, sorta wishing it wasn’t true. “How about you?”

“Just passing through,” he says, and you try to fight your disappointment. “My brother and I travel a lot. Here for business.”

“What do you do?”

“We’re hunters,” he says. You get the distinct impression you’re being lied to, because who the fuck makes a living as a hunter, but you don’t press it.

“Bet I can still beat you at Big Buck Hunter,” you say. He grins.

You win the first game, which is sort of a miracle, because you’re so distracted by him you can barely think straight. He’s just so tall, and he smells fucking great, and it’s sorta just not fair how attractive he is. On top of all that, he’s funny, and every time you laugh, he smiles like he’s proud of himself, and his dimples do a thing.

“I’ll get another round if you’ll give me another chance,” he says. His eyes are sparkling. So you dig up some change, and Sam orders more drinks. As soon as his back is turned Katie gives you a thumbs up. You’re just mentally high-fiving yourself for not doing anything too stupid yet.

You get your ass handed to you in the second game, which doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Maybe he wasn’t lying about being a hunter. He definitely knows his way around a gun, even a little plastic gun that looks flimsy and ridiculous set against his broad shoulder; there’s something kinda scary about how capable his hands look.

“I guess we need to have a tiebreaker,” he says.

“I’ll get drinks,” you say. He’s looking at you, smiling, with his head tilted, like the world’s sexiest puppy.

You’re halfway to the bar when you hear the rumblings of a fight about to break out: an indignant, “Hey, man!” and what sounds like a whole bunch of macho bullshit. You turn around with a sigh. Sure enough, it’s two of your regulars, guys you’ve had to book for public intoxication (and, in one case, urinating in the public park’s sandbox, which...gross) on more than one occasion.

To your surprise, Sam’s making a beeline for the little cluster of men.

“Trust me, you don’t want to do this,” you hear one of them saying, a stranger, but then he gives Sam a look, and you realize this must be his brother. He looks familiar in a way that’s going to make you crazy if you think about it too much.

“Hey!” you bark from across the room. Craig and Turner’s heads turn to you, fast, and you give them your Scary Cop face. Turner mumbles something, but they’re backing down, walking away. Good. Sam gives you a quizzical look. You realize it must look funny, those two slinking away from little old you, and you smile to yourself.

Sam and his brother have a quick, muttered conversation, and then Sam starts walking back to you. He’s frowning.

“My brother wants to go,” he says. You’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the regret on his face, which is all sorts of flattering.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” you say.

“I, uh-” he starts, and the way he shifts his weight and shoves his hands into his pockets is 100% adorable. “I’ll be around for another night or two. Rain check on the tiebreaker?”

“Yeah,” you grin. He programs your number into his phone, and smiles at you over his shoulder as they’re leaving. You wonder if you’re blushing in a cute, delicate sorta way or in a tomato sort of way. Probably the latter.

------

You’ve been at work for exactly one hour, and you are ready to scream. You’re pretty sure your head is going to explode. And sure, you stayed out a little too late last night, what with the gorgeous stranger who got your number!!!, but that gorgeous stranger is honestly the only good thing in your entire life at the moment. All hell seems to have broken loose, because nobody can make head or tail of this murder case, and you’ve spent the morning wading through paperwork.

At this point you might not even be mad if your head exploded. Maybe then it’d hurt less.

“...FBI,” comes a low, familiar voice from outside your office. You half-hear an exchange that sounds like even more paperwork headed your way, and then there’s a knock on your doorframe.

“Come in,” you say absently, still absorbed in the form you’re filling out, trying to figure out how exactly to describe the way the victim’s heart was ripped out without sounding like a complete psycho. You hear the door click closed, and you look up.

Sam. Sam wearing a suit. And yeah, okay, that’s definitely the best thing you’ve seen all week, but what the fuck are Sam and his suit and his ridiculously attractive face doing in your office?

And then you look next to Sam, at the man you assume is his brother, and you do a double take. He looks so damn familiar. You can’t place his face, and now you’ve been staring for a couple seconds too long...but he’s staring at you the same way, brow furrowed over bright green eyes (yeah, you notice his eyes, because apparently the gorgeous gene just runs in the family) and your headache intensifies.

“Shit,” the brother says suddenly, his face draining of all color, and just as suddenly, you remember.

“Hands up,” you say, and you have your gun trained on him before he can blink. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”

Sam is looking from you to his brother and back again, completely mystified.

“Dean? Do you guys know each other?” he says. And then, to you, “You’re a cop? Why didn’t you tell me you’re a cop?”

“First of all,” you say, through gritted teeth, “I didn’t not tell you. You didn’t ask. Second, your brother is about to be under all sorts of arrest, so I’d suggest shutting up.”

“I can explain-” Dean says.

“Dean, please explain why the pretty cop is pointing her gun at you,” Sam says, with the bitchiest bitchface you’ve seen this year and the tone of someone talking to a very slow toddler.

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets,” Dean says gingerly.

“You shot her?” Sam asks.

“No, I shot him,” you say. You can’t really help the note of pride that creeps into your voice. It had been a good shot, even if it had (obviously) not done its job.

“I was a demon,” Dean says, as if that explains everything. Sam rolls his eyes. You shake your head, trying to clear your ears, because you can’t have heard that right.

“Come again?”

“I think we need to have a conversation,” Sam sighs, and you give him your best “no shit” look. “I promise, we can explain everything. Here, you can handcuff Dean to the chair, if that’ll make you feel better, just give me a chance.” Dean glares at him, but sits down slowly with his hands raised. He doesn’t struggle when you cuff him.

You train your gun on Sam instead, and he winces, but also looks a little impressed.

“Talk.”

“Okay, so...we’re not exactly FBI agents.”

“No shit.”

“Well, what I told you at the bar last night...that was true. We’re hunters. Except we don’t hunt deer, we hunt monsters.”

You blink at him silently a few times.

“Ghosts are real. So are vampires, ghouls, all sorts of monsters you’ve probably never heard of.”

“Why in hell should I believe you?” you finally ask.

“You’ve had some unusual deaths in the last week, right?” Sam asks. Your head is spinning, but you manage to nod. “We’re investigating those. We think it was a werewolf.”

You look from Sam to Dean and then up to the ceiling, saying a silent prayer: whoever is out there, please save me from these raving motherfucking lunatics, amen.

“Hey, Cas, I think someone is praying to you,” Dean says with a little smirk.

And then, without any warning, there’s a man in a trenchcoat standing in your office, and it’s only because of years of training that you manage not to scream. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“What did you do this time, Dean?” the man asks, eyeing him impatiently.

“Dude, seriously? She’s freaked enough,” Sam says. Dean looks smug, like this might be retaliation for shooting him and handcuffing him to a chair.

“This is our friend Castiel,” Dean says. “He’s an angel. Angels are also real. Proof enough?”

Castiel raises a hand awkwardly. “Hi. I’m sorry for startling you.”

“Huh,” you say. It comes out all weak and shaky.

“Dean, try not to be such an asshole,” Castiel says. He rolls his eyes and vanishes.

“You’re taking this really well,” Sam says. In spite of everything, the warmth in his voice sends a rogue butterfly flapping through your stomach.

“Your brother is a demon.”

“Was!” Dean corrects.

“Your brother was a demon,” you say to Sam. He nods encouragingly. “Now he’s not?” He nods again.

“I promise, the thing you met was not Dean,” he says. “If you shot him now, he’d die.”

“Let’s not test that theory, though,” Dean says hurriedly. “You saw my eyes, right?”

“Black,” you croak.

“Yeah. That’s what demons look like,” Sam says. You stare at him stupidly.

The truth is, it makes entirely too much sense, and in spite of yourself, you’re starting to believe him. You’d always wondered about those creepy-ass eyes...and about the round you’d put right through Dean’s heart, which didn’t even slow him down.

“We can help you find the werewolf. We’re sorta experts.”

You squeeze your eyes closed for a moment.

“I need a second. Or, like, a thousand seconds.”

“As long as you need,” Sam says. His voice is like goddamn velvet.

“If you guys can help with the murders-” you say slowly, and you’re hearing your own voice as if it’s far far away, and you really can’t believe what you’re saying, but- “then yeah, we could use your help. The deputy out there can show you around.”

Both of them make near-identical expressions of shock, and for a moment it’s incredibly obvious that they’re brothers.

“Seriously?” Dean asks. You shrug.

“Explains some of the shit I’ve seen,” you say.

Sam is grinning at you, looking like he just won the lottery or some shit. “You...took that well,” he says, pushing his hair behind his ears nervously.

“I’m pretty sure I’m insane and so are you,” you say evenly. “But it’s worth a shot, right?”

“We won’t let ya down,” Dean says. “Can I be uncuffed now?”

Sam watches you fiddle with the key. “Are you going to come with us? Show us the scene?” he asks.

“No,” you say. “I told you, I need a second. And possibly a Klonopin.”

He looks disappointed.

Dean bolts the second he’s uncuffed, saying, “See you at the car, Sammy.” He seems like he wants to be as far away from you as physically possible.

Sam lingers, pausing at the door.

“Do you still want to get a drink later?” he asks tentatively.

“Do you still want to get a drink with me?” you ask, more than a little surprised. “I mean, I shot your brother...”

“Honestly? That makes me like you more,” he says, and those dimples are on full display. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

You’re grinning, and probably blushing like a tomato again. He seems to have that effect on you.

“He did,” you say. “And I’ll definitely need a drink, the way this day is going.”

“See you later, then.” He smiles at you one last time and leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

You collapse into your desk chair and take a couple deep breaths.

Demons are real. A cute guy wants to take you out.

The world is a strange place.

Sequel is HERE.

#aimtomisbehave #aim to misbehave #supernatural #fanfiction #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction

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