#watch both. check Does the Dog Die before you do but watch both

[theundeadmetalheadapolagia]

Indulge me a moment:

Eddie’s favourite movie of all time is Suspiria, but if asked he’ll say it’s Return of the Living Dead

Meanwhile

Jonathan’s favourite movie of all time is Return of the Living Dead, but if asked he’ll say it’s Suspiria

#i think they both really love both but I can justify their choices. #Eddie strikes me as a v Weirdo Slow-Burn Phantasmagoria kinda guy who probably gets sick of justifying the weird nightmare piece #as his fave ever #plus RotLD is MEGA weird & fun & he'd probably get a kick out of how scandalous it #gets #Meanwhile I think Jonathan probs likes the artsiness of Suspiria &finds a lotta folks in college who get a kick out of it but I do think he #'s big on cult classic types the #special effects the gonzo decisions the Sleaze of it all #this is really just me talking about movies huh. #watch both. check Does the Dog Die before you do but watch both #happy halloween month babydolls. class dismissed #eddie munson #jonathan byers

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 18: Harry Warden

Day 18 coming right up! As always I hope you all enjoy <3, I will be honest though and say it has been forever since I've actually watched my bloody valentine so I'll try my best to do harry justice here.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, NSFW.

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Soft baby boy. Checks on you multiple times and makes sure you have anything and everything you need. A bath? done, A drink ? done, A snack ? done. Literally ask for anything and this man will run to the store if you don't have it at the house.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

After years of working in the mines, Harry is pretty fit. I could see his favorite part of himself being a tie between his chest and his arms as both show all his years of hard work to put food on the table.

On you it's your smile, Harry's been through a lot, but with you he feels like he's at home. Your smile brings a comfort to him he hasn't experienced in forever.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Harry wants babies (If you have the equipment to make them) so always inside you. If you can't get pregnant he'll probably still cum inside just to avoid a big mess to clean but if he does make a mess it'll be a cold day in hell before he lets you clean it.

D is for Dirty Secret:

If he could get away with it, He'd lock you up in the house and never let you leave. The people outside, the ones who let him sit in that mine and almost die, don't deserve to see you or have you in their presence. Your his baby and he wants you all to himself.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

Harry... isn't the most experienced person. You might have to help him along the first few times. He knows what goes where, and how to make you feel good, But in the actual sex department he's a bit lacking.

F is for Favorite Position:

Even though he hasn't had the most experience Harry fucks like a dog. Doggy style is his favorite by far. He likes bringing you to your hands and knees for him. Knowing he can do that to you and no one else can thrills him.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

He isn't the most serious but he's not really goofy either? He's more so just really soft and fluffy during sex.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

It's a bit unruly since during his time in the minds he kinda lost the will to care for himself, so you might have to remind him to continue with the upkeep of it. If it gets too bad he takes care of it without reminder but don't be surprised if it slips his mind.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

Very romantic, He's all about wining and dining you. He's really into foreplay just to get the two of you in the mood but its the most tooth rotting foreplay you'll ever experience.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

He does it every so often. If you were with him when the mine accident happen then he definitely jacked off to the thought of you in the mines to keep himself somewhat sane.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Praise kink: Tell this boy he's doing a good job and he'll cum on the spot whether he's inside you or not. You've made him cum in his pants more then once with this.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

At home in the bedroom. Like I said your his, he doesn't want anyone that isn't him looking at you in any type of way. He would have to end them if they did and he doesn't wanna have to be killing people 24/7.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

The thought of wanting nothing more then to please you is what gets him going the most. He aims to please and wants you to be as satisfied as possible.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

No degrading you, No hitting you or even being mean. He's just not into it and would never even think about hurting you even if it was for fun during sex.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Major giver. He'll let you give him a blow job here and there but he loves giving you oral. If you ask him what he wants to eat nine times out of ten the answer will be you.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

Slow and sensual all the way. He'll get a bit rough when he gets desperate but he wants to make love and make the most of it.

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

He hates quickies. Why would he go for a quickie when he can give you the actual real full fledged thing. If you like them that's fine but don't expect him to like them.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

He'll experiment within reason, Like if it's something that may hurt you or anything, it's a hard no. However if you bring something up he finds interesting then he'll be down to try it out with you.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

This man used to be a miner, he has all the stamina in the world from doing that for years. He will give you breaks and stop after awhile but he could literally go for hours on end.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

He doesn't have much experience when it comes to toys so if you bring up one night you'd like to try them he's all for it. He might not like every single toy but there are a few he does really like and a lot that he loves to use on you.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

He thinks teasing is mean, and he's not about to be mean to his baby. If you wanna tease him just a bit to get him worked up then go for it he doesn't mind but don't be too terribly mean to him just some playful teasing.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

He grunts but that's about it, Harry isn't a big noise maker in general and he doesn't talk much either so don't expect sex to be any different.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

Soft Harry is soft, he loves cuddles and really anything where he can just hang out with you. So after he runs your aftercare bath expect him to sit on the toilet and have him just hang out with you, no talking, just you and him being together.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

Harry's got a big thick dick, About 8 inches and a good amount of girth to it.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

High as fuck but only for you. He's never felt this way about anyone before and as far as he's concerned the sun rises and sets with you and so does his sex drive.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

He waits awhile. He likes to make sure your entirely ok before even thinking about sleeping. He also likes to cuddle and just hold you for awhile too. If you had any doubts of his feelings for you, you won't after this.

#slasher fandom #slasher x reader #harry warden #harry warden x reader #my bloody valentine #Fictober #halloween

[givehimthemedicine]

how 4 sets the scene for Blind Max

another reason I suspect she'll have a blindness arc continuing into/through 5 is that I've been thinking about how Max's season 4, from its very first to very last second, lays groundwork de-prioritizing sense of sight for her and often shifting importance onto hearing.

on the surface, this is all just aspects of her depression/curse experience this season, but it all has the side effect of helping prepare her for blindness.

let's go:

do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm making? 🎵

Max's s4 begins with her shutting out the world around her to focus on her music all the time,

and that's before it's revealed to be a very literal lifeline. the special power of music here places enormous importance on sense of hearing (which has also benefitted Will, Victor, and the other Pennhurst inmates)

(deaf Vecna victim: "guess I'll die")

Lucas's basketball game

Max not wanting to attend the game was about not wanting to be seen by Lucas, rather than not wanting to see Lucas. she has no problem seeing Lucas - check out those heart eyes at the pep rally but only when he isn't looking.

she doesn't not care about him. she's just hiding from him.

so they could easily have established Max secretly caring via a scene where she does attend, watching but staying out of sight. maybe it turns out she refused his ticket because she actually already had one. or maybe she gets a ride from Eddie and gets to the gym and reaches for a door handle and hesitates and goes home instead.

instead they chose for her to keep tabs on Lucas without seeing the game at all, by listening instead. (looked upon by a poster with giant eyes lol)

not only tasty as a foreshadow, but a great little touch to set up Max knowing that her connection/enjoyment of her friends and awareness of what's going on doesn't depend solely on her ability to see.

bonus: her only line in that scene? "alright, I hear you" (because that dog barks)

shutting her eyes

Vecna doesn't blind his victims (well. not at the beginning) but instead forces visions upon them, so instead of their actual surroundings they see horrifying things, both literally and in a depression-metaphor way.

anyway, how does Max escape Vecna in DB? she shuts her eyes to the darkness he's forcing her to see, and focuses on the light - the love of her friends - which she knows to be the truth.

that worked the first time, and it worked again to escape the Creel house vision.

where it failed was at the snow ball, I think because Vecna got too much in her head by talking to her, and she couldn't concentrate. (the other two times he didn't talk to her while she was trying to hide in her memories, but this time he won't shut up).

after that, she seems to have given up on shutting her eyes, maybe because Vecna has figured out to target her hearing. because at the next attempt, her eyes stay wide open, and I think she would've been killed except for El interrupting. the third time, her eyes stayed open and she was killed.

avoiding eye contact

4 Max carries on a considerable chunk of her conversations staring off to the side, especially when the topic is herself.

not that this is unique to season 4 or to Max - people just tend to avoid eye contact when uncomfortable. for example, Max barely looks at Lucas throughout the s2 heart to heart on the bus either. this is just part of Sadie's portrayal of Uncomfortable Vulnerable Max, and Max is just that way a whole lot more in 4 than in prior seasons due to being depressed.

still, the end result is Max having her most important conversations with limited visual emotional cues from the other person - a trend that will obviously continue if she's blind.

relatedly, Max was able to deliver two deeply emotional and personal monologues (a supremely uncomfortable task for her) no doubt aided by the fact that her audience wasn't there to make eye contact with:

and like I've talked about before, right after her first Vecna survival, Max grabs and holds Lucas, and hears/responds to him, but it always struck me as weird that at NO point in this scene does she look at anyone:

hm.

relying on her friends' sight

thanks to the visions, Max is starting to find her sense of sight unreliable. so although nothing is currently wrong with her eyes, this puts her in a position where she's already learning to stop relying solely on her own sight, and to consult with her friends and listen to what they say they're seeing when she's unsure.

which she'll be doing a lot more of if she's blind.

not to mention the big plan with Lucas - his whole job is to keep an eye on her and "call in Kate Bush" when it gets too dangerous. so, literally trusting her life to his sight and her hearing.

losing her sight

in the end of course we arrive at literal blindness. Max can't see or feel anything but apparently can hear Lucas.

not sure what to make of potential paralysis (I don't think they'd both permanently blind and paralyze her) but that's where we stand now - with hearing as Max's last known working sense.

which is why we end on Lucas reading to her in hopes that she can hear it. if Max does wake up blind, you can bet that being read to will become one of her primary sources of entertainment. I could totally imagine Max not being ready to withstand a lot of heavy personal conversation, but still wanting to take comfort in her friends' voices.

anyway. losing her sight would be devastating of course, but I like that they've had Max placing major value on her hearing while she still has her sight instead of leaving the entirety of the conversation for when she's blind. and I like that they've had Max already start learning to trust those around her for support.

#max mayfield #blind max mayfield #character analysis #here's how El can still read Max a WW comic in 5 #givehimthemedicine analysis #analysis #mine #long post

[nothoughtsjustluxiem]

How they are as your s/o

Some headcannons I thought of while changing my profile

Please let me know if there are some issues, I'll fix it as soon as possible!!

Masterlist | BIO

- Vox is affectionate

- It's evident with how he treats his chat, regardless of all the mature jokes and comments he makes

- So imagine how he is off stream

- A clingy Demon who won't leave you alone claiming its to "Protect" you when we all know he just wants kisses

- But of course you must remember he is a top. And he will remind you every single time you guys are together

- Loves nicknames especially if they're affectionate and get you flustered. "Darling, it's time for breakfast" or " Sweething you'll need to be quiet, I will be live in just a few minutes"

- Talks A LOT about you to chat, if he's not flirting with them he's definitely talking about you

"Y/n? What are they doing? Last I checked they were in the kitchen preparing lunch. Don't I have such a sweet darling chat"

- Vox loves you, honestly he's so down bad but he won't admit that to you. You know how down bad he is for Ike and squeals whenever the Novelist leaves Vox alone in a collab. Vox won't stop talking about how much he loves the boy, well he's the same but for you

"Chat now that they're gone, did you see them being angry??? They were so cute I think I can die peacefully now" (He had to be reminded that he still had a collab with you to finish before he could pass peacefully)

- Now Ike is affectionate at a moderate pace

- He prefers to keep his relationship at a minimal in his streams and collabs

- But he can help himself squeak quietly when you're being so adorable in your collab

"Ikey if we move this lever, I think the next room we need to go to will show up"

Or

"Honey I don't like this, the game is getting scary"

- On the topic of nicknames, Ike does not really say your nicknames on stream but he doesn't mind if you accidentally slip up some occasions

"Good morning, Honey"

"My love!! It's lovely to see you today"

- Pretty common nicknames, he's not that fond of the lovey dovey types and thinks simple is perfect

- I want to imagine Ike has some membership streams where he and chat will try and write short stories or short novels for you. He'd then share it to you off stream and let his chat know what you thought about it the next time he's live

"Oh the short stories, yes I gave it to them. They loved it!! Told me to thank you chat as well for the lovely and creative stories"

- Ike sometimes asks you to watch his stream while he goes either to the restroom or collect something from outside

- It's not that common for Ike to collab with you since you both practically off collab 24/7

- An actual golden retriever and no one can say other wise

- Whenever you show up on chat or vc it's like you can see a pair of dog ears and tail pop out of him as he greets you

"HONEY!! HELLLOOOOOOO POGG!!"

- He loves you so much he's the most open about it to chat

"Hey chat, y/n showed up today and sent me some pringles when I ran out. How did they know????? It must be the instincts of being partners!!"

- When he collabs with you, prankings are either double or none at all

- When he collabs with you it depends, he sometimes wants to be playful. Most of the time he's distracted being with you to even prepare for the prank

"CHAT I FORGOT THE OBSIDIAN, I was too distracted talking with y/n. Don't worry we'll do the prank to Elira next time"

- His nicknames for you is pretty similar to Ike, but unlike Ike. Luca uses it in almost all sentences

"My love!!! chat says hello!!!!"

"Honey!! Look at this *uses elytra to show off tricks* POGGG"

"My Honey is so poggers right chat???"

- If its possible Luca would have a collab with you at least once a week. He wants to spend so much time with you

- If it is possible he'll make sure to collab with you every Sundays. It is now his goal to have you every week.

-Eyyyyyyy

-Shu is surprisingly a tease

- He's a tease, especially if you collab with him

"Y/n did you hear about what happened to Candace?"

"Shu-"

"CAN DE-"//playfully gets slapped by Ike

- But he's a sweetheart, very fun to be with either on stream or just together

- He'd definitely invite you to Valorant collabs

- Don't know how to play? Don't worry!! He will teach you

- Welcome to your private membership streams where he teaches you how to play Valorant and maybe even let you play with his keyboard while he uses his mouse

- He does not use nicknames, it's just not his thing. He thinks y/n is a perfect name anyway

- The most he'd do is shorten your name if it's long enough. Other than that yeah he just says y/n

"Y/n let's target practice, I'll be with you the whole time"

- He's not as talkative, but chat knows about you and actually love you a lot despite almost never showing up on his stream.

- Shu is actually such a clever man, the way he solves math problems is fan service to the yaminions anyway, but he's pretty affectionate off stream and likes to cuddle.

- Don't let this fool you tho, he will not make any excuses to tease you even in the slightest. Its his way of saying I love you

- Speaking of I love yous, he wouldn't say it to any of your collabs but he secretly dms you on discord that he loves you. Just because he had so much fun and wanted to let you know.

- Surprisingly I think Mysta is the most reserved with your relationship

- He loves you so much off stream that he doesn't mention you as much when he's live and even you don't mind that

- He will collab with you, but as a colleague rather than his partner

- The nicknames he uses are reserved when you're both alone

"My love, please stay with me forever. I love you so much"

"I love you too Mysta!"

- It's the fleeting stares Mysta gives to you when you're both collabing and his fans can see he's secretly whipped

- Does chat know you're both dating? Yes but Mysta didn't tell them. It was actually his genmates who confirmed the rumours.

- They were not aware that you two kept it a secret

Ike: "Mysta and y/n? I'd often see those two together in vc, what do they do there I have no idea"

Luca: "Oh yeah y/n and Mysta? They're together you'll actually see them together in vc all the time"

Vox: "Ah Mysta my boy, so whipped for his lover. You guys might not notice it but he's in almost every one of their streams

Shu: Oh Mysta and y/n are in vc today, let's not disturb them and continue with the stream

- I think the main reason why Mysta doesn't really mention your relationship is cause he thinks it should be something private, other than that he's scared on what his chat might think. But we all know he will be supported by his fanbase and yours.

That's all from me, thank you so much for reading!!

#luxiem #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji

[velmautism]

Now I'm thinking about the gang playing Lethal Company and how well they'd do so here's my thoughts and opinions :]

As a team, they're VERY solid together. They invest fairly early on in helpful tools (mainly flashlights and walkie-talkies), just so that if/when they need to split up they all have ways to communicate with each other. They can go several rounds before they fail to meet their quota.

Shaggy consistently gets 'most paranoid employee.' He and Velma are of the same mind that they should wait until the market is buying scrap at 100% value, and he consistently hangs back on the ship and monitors everyone/communicates when something goes awry. He's more than happy to leave in a pinch (to help collect scrap or corpses) but he gets antsy easily. Least hesitant to leave if everyone else dies. Sorry, but if you, like, die and get left behind that scrap is more valuable than your life. Scooby likes to watch the dots on the monitors move around from over Shaggy's shoulder. He's jumpy though, and gets scared if Shaggy flinches at anything.

Fred is probably the unluckiest teammate. He still hasn't figured out how to check the ceilings of doorways for snare fleas, and has to rely on either his sense of direction or Daphne or Velma with either a shovel or a sign. Every time the ghost girl shows up, he's the target. It doesn't matter to him how often he dies, he's having the time of his fucking life. He LOVES doing the silly little dance emote. He's just having a goofy time with his friends. He is not allowed to go out to collect scrap during thunderstorms.

Daphne's only downfall is that she's too eager to try to fight things. She gets good with the hitboxes, and is good at killing spiders and snare fleas. But sometimes her hubris gets the best of her, and she gets scolded every time her corpse has to get dragged back to the ship. Runs into dark rooms with hardly a second thought, tends to get lost on occasion and then reemerge after nightfall. Somehow she still has yet to die while running back to the ship. Drowns the most, for some reason. Most insistent on visiting more dangerous planets for the payoff.

Velma gets way too into it. She's always thinking up strategies for collecting the most the team can on any given day. Avoids creatures if she sees them, and is absolutely fucking terrified by the jack-in-the-box. Always goes back for any bodies, even if it's like 10pm in game already. Because damn it, she's going to try! Is usually trusted to go off on her own, but falls down pits on occasion and gets mad about it whenever she does. Most likely to run out of battery on her flashlight.

Early on in the game, Velma got suffocated by a snare flea. Everyone else just laughed at her as she ran around screaming because they didn't know what to do otherwise.

Everyone has a favorite scrap item they're protective of if they happen upon them. Fred ALWAYS takes the apparatus if he finds one (much to everyone else's annoyances at having to run around in the dark). Shaggy is very fond of rubber duckies. Daphne loves finding signs, and will always forgo a shovel in favor of smacking something with a stop sign. Velma likes finding v-type engines, even if she has to carry it with both hands.

Shaggy once left Velma behind while she tried to cart Fred's body back to the ship, because he saw an eyeless dog. She still has not forgiven him for it.

Daphne found out the hard way friendly fire was a thing when she smacked the shit out of Fred, who had already been injured by fall damage, and killed him.

Shaggy went out to retrieve supplies and got squashed by the delivery rocket once by accident, and had to deal with everyone else laughing at his expense regardless of who he was spectating.

#:) i love silly headcanons #scooby doo #lethal company #velma dinkley #fred jones #daphne blake #shaggy rogers

[mydarllinglover]

Alone || Haunted

Previous

They had left the top of the hill, walking away back the field Natalia and Daisy patched up in.

"Why are there always so many people bothering us?" Daisy asked. "Why are there so many wars?"

"'Cause, honey, before all this, men could argue over sports, and before sports, they fought in wars. No more sports, they had to resort back to war." Natalia explained.

"Hey, this was a woman." Negan reminded. "This time."

"Yeah and it was you and the jolly green giant backing her up." She raised a brow.

Daryl had sent Daisy over to the patch of flowers, after showing her how to make a daisy chain, giving her something to do.

The two men sat on opposites sides of the log, whilst Natalia laid on the grass, staring at the sky.

It was silent between the three of them, before she started to chuckle, then that turned into a giggle, until eventually she was hysterically laughing.

"Dude, she's lost it." Negan muttered to Daryl, leaning over the log, watching Natalia.

"Shut up, man." He nudged him back over.

"Oh, god, it hurts so bad so laugh, but it's so funny." Natalia continued to giggle, holding her sides.

"Nat, what's going on?" Daryl asked her, shuffling off the log to sit beside her, holding her gently. "What's so funny?"

"My life, Daryl, my whole existence is a joke." She covered her mouth, trying to stop the laughs. "It's, the whole thing is just disaster after disaster!" She cracked.

"And that's funny because?" Negan continued to be nosy.

"Well, for starters I was born in 1985, y'know, the year of the 9000 victim earthquake in Mexico, and the spread of aids, and don't forget the Japan airline crash. Then, at the age of four, my father dies from a peanut, Hello, a peanut, one! Singular peanut! I mean, how the hell does someone just die from that, something so small!" She cracked up. "Oh, and spoiler alert, I found out I was also allergic, cause my mom's drug addict boyfriend, who was supposed to be babysitting me, fed them to me! Cause he was too doped up to tell the difference between them and pretzels! And then my Mom married my step-dad, who was a really great guy, I mean, he got me out of going to Juvie, he was kind, he never grassed me up, he's the one who supported me when my Mother found out I was pregnant in college and cut me off, then drove me to the hospital, when I went into labour during graduation! Which I finished top of my class, by the way, because my boyfriend at the time was too hungover to even bother to show up! But because I was a twenty-two year old mother, no one would take me on! Because they didn't trust it, and they called me unreliable, and a free monthly check ready to happen. At the age of twenty-five, guess what happened?" She didn't let them answer. "Dead people started walking and eating the alive people! Then my boyfriend kills himself, eats my daughter, I have to put down the both of them, which were my first ever walker kills, by the way, and then, I had a miscarriage, with no one around but my dog, who was also murdered!" She cackled at this. "Then I begin a feud with a man who had taunted me with rats! I hate rats! And then more people come along, and these are bad, bad people, they did terrible things, and I was left with no over choice but to kill them, because If I didn't, those bad things would either continue to happen, or they would just slaughter me. But then, then I met you." She smiled at Daryl. "And Rick, and Glenn, and Carl, and Maggie, and Beth and they are all gone! They're dead, the first good people, who made me feel like a person, are all dead or gone, and you're always too busy with other stuff then being around me, you might as well be gone! Anyway, and then, we spend months on the road, I had to spend months on the road with people who hated me, who didn't trust me because of the way I was forced to survive, all with a pregnant woman, who acted as though sleeping with her husbands best friend was such an heinous thing to happen to her, because nothing bad happens to angels like her, and she's just soo innocent, and this baby is such a curse! But she dies, too, because everyone dies, and I get shot! I got shot whilst I was playing ball with my dog, and you weren't there, because you left us! You left us for your brother who kidnapped Glenn and Maggie and beat them, did terrible, terrible things to them, but oh no, that's not the worst thing to ever happen to them, was it! I've been through three wars, I've been shot, I've been held at gunpoint, I survived by myself, and with a group of men who looked at me like I was the freshest cattle at the market, then I had to survive a herd, from inside a car, Oh, my twenty-seventh birthday? We met Evie, and thank god we met Evie, cause she's just amazing, but then a few days later, red poncho guy had to show up then disappear, and then Evie's dad dies, rip, Rick made us move that herd, and then I accidentally kissed you, and get this, if it wasn't for Michonne, I woulda never made a move on you, cause I thought I'd be cheating on my dead boyfriend." She wheezed.

"And then two months after that, our friends are brutally killed in front of us, and we get kidnapped, and some guy touched me, and I didn't even get justice, because that was taken from me, from the guy who kidnapped me! And then we escape, I get married, yay! We fight the war, and we win, once again, go us! But then I find out I'm pregnant, whilst hanging above walkers, literally hanging above them! Rick goes missing, my daughter gets kidnapped, I go into labour in the woods, whilst fighting a group of walkers, that I could barely do, because I was so large! We had a couple of good years, really, really good years, and then we move into the woods, and I get pregnant again, but that's fine, because I delivered him by myself, and then Carol shows up, she wants us to take care of her son, you said no, but god damn it, I'm so weak, I just had to cave, we go to Hilltop, and instantly get sent on a mission, Jesus dies, so sad. The kids escape from under our nose. We have to sneak into unknown territory to lure them back, and then we have to fight whisperers in an abandoned building, but then Henry gets hurt, because of course he does, and then the fair, oh, the fair. I spoke to Alpha, I was going to put Archie down for a nap, and she came and spoke to us, and I replied, I had a conversation with her, then walked away, I knew something was off, and I chose to ignore it, because Archie needed a nap, and then she brutally murdered my friends... my daughter had to see her best friend's head on a spike, and I wasn't even there to comfort her. I was in a freaking mine explosion, I was dead-"

"Nat, you didn't die." Daryl held her face, trying to make her stop talking, stop reliving all these memories, but she was on a train that had no other stations. "You didn't die."

"No, no, I did, for a little bit, I was dead, there's no over way to explain it, I died." She grinned at him, like a crazy person. "And I was stuck in this house, it was my old house, with Harry, and Winnie, and everything I did, or wherever I went, he would kill her, and I would wake up in the shower, and he would do it again, over and over, and over again, and I didn't know how to make it stop, I killed him, or I would kill her, or I'd avoid them, no matter what I did, she died, because I can't protect her, I'm not a good mother, and she died because I'm not, and the only reason I am here right now, is because my other daughter had to bring me back and help me get her out of there, and then she- she killed people, Daryl she killed those two whisperers on the hill, I don't think she knew they were alive, and not walkers, because I called them walkers, because I couldn't do it myself, so I turned killing real life, human people, into a game... a game! And she cut her arm. My baby cut her arm, and my other kids, I don't even know where they are!"

"They're okay, Nat, they're fine, they're with everyone, and they're okay." Daryl told her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about the cannibals!" She wiped tears from her eyes, because she was laughing so much.

"Natty, I really think you need to stop laughing, and sleep, instead."

"I've been asleep!" She snapped, looking up at him. "I was asleep for a whole day."

"No, you were unconscious for a whole day, and you lost so much blood, that I had ta donate mine." Daryl turned harsh. "That ain't resting. Daisy, get over here!" He called the girl over, who instantly came running at her fathers instructions.

"Yes, Daddy?" She asked, her Daisy necklace looped in her hands.

"You and yer Mama need some sleep, you ain't slept in over twenty four hours, so yer gonna both lay down, under this blanket." He pulled the blanket out from Daisy's backpack. "And yer gonna count sheep, till I wake you up, got it."

"Daryl..."

"Lay down, till you stop with the crazy talk." He demanded, gently pushing her back down, and instructing Daisy to come lay beside her, but of course Natalia opened up her arms for Daisy to snuggle in. "Ain't nothin' gonna get ya, no one's gonna hurt ya, sleep." 

Natalia let out a grumble, but she got comfortable, snuggling with her daughter, whilst Daryl "tucked them in" before sliding back up the log.

"Shit, man, I- I knew she had issues, but... she never told me all that." Negan sighed, looking at the pair on the grass, when sometime had passed, that they both had to have fallen asleep.

"'Cause she ain't want no one to know, 'Specially not you, of all people, you only know what you forced out of her. An' she missed out a buncha shit, too..." He rubbed his hands together nervously.

They were quiet for a bit, listening to the silence around them, until Negan took a sip from his canteen, before offering it to Daryl, who took it.

"Not to spin a broken record, but I don't think she's comin' back." Negan started. "You know, I'm... I'm not bullshitting you."

"I know." Daryl replied, sounding defeated.

"When I said that I liked it.... that wasn't part of the act."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know, when your people locked me up, I lost everything. You know, seven years spent staring out that little window... man, it sucked. It got so bad, that even my memories had bars painted on 'em. So when Alpha took me in... I admit it, I... I liked it. It was... it was nice feeling like I mattered again, like I was respected. But she took it too far. You don't kill people that don't deserve it. And you never kill kids."

"Is that supposed to make me like you?" Daryl asked him.

"No."

"Good."

"But what about my winning personality?" Negan tried.

"You tried to steal my wife, and ruin my marriage, shit load of times." Daryl answered, getting off the log, and stirring Natalia awake. "Let's go." He muttered to her, grabbing the blanket, throwing it into Daisy's bag and swinging it over his shoulder, picking up his crossbow, then his still sleeping daughter.

"What about Carol?" Negan asked, at his retreating back, but no one answered him, and so he followed instead.

They had returned home, back to Alexandria, where Natalia was reunited with her two other children, Archie, who was still a baby, didn't understand anything else but to be happy that his mother was awake to hold him, whilst Bambi caught her up on everything she had missed, even the parts that Daisy had already filled her in, on.

Judith, Gracie and RJ, were also just ecstatic to see the woman, and so was the rest of her friends and family.

But of course the nicicites hadn't lasted forever, because as soon as Carol had returned home, all four communities set off to an safehouse, of sorts, an abandoned hospital.

Lydia and Evie had also joined them, and Natalia hugged the two girls when they had sobbed their apologies to her, for failing her, which she had to push that they did not, they were children, children who should never have such burdens to carry.

"You should sit down." Negan told Natalia, when she wobbled around the halls, staring out of every visible window.

"I'm fine, and I don't need to be taking advice from you." She told him, leaning on the window sill of the one she had been currently watching out of.

"Hey, it's what everyone's thinking, they're just too scared to tell you." He gently grabbed her elbow, but slightly tightened his grip when she flinched away. "Natalia, you've gone through a shit load, physically, you need to let your body heal."

"I am healed, okay, look at me, cast's and stitches, what else do I need?" She raised the arm he was holding.

"That don't explain why you can barely walk, now."

"I've been walking all day." She furrowed her brows at him. "And my ribs, I was hidden up in rubble."

"No, no, it's-" He reached for her shirt, going to lift it but she whacked him away.

"What the hell are you doing!?" She accused.

"Your stomach-"

"Daryl!" She called.

"Does he know?" Negan asked her.

"What's going on?" Daryl asked, flying around the corner.

"He tried to touch me!" She pointed at the man.

"Yeah, that's cause your wife is hobbling around until she eventually kills herself, Daisy weren't the only one who was cut up, was she?"

"You back the hell down, man." Daryl stared him down, joining Natalia's side.

"Whatever, I'm tired of helping you people." He threw his hands in the air, walking away, in defeat.

"Nat-"

"It's not a big deal, but he grabbed me-

"Show me." Daryl told her.

"What?"

"Show me what happened."

"I- but- nothing happened."

"Nat, I could see it all over, I can tell the difference between walker blood and your blood, this..." He gestured to the blood at the bottom of her clean shirt, clearly it had bled through, without her realising. "Is yours. I noticed it from the start, but you didn't tell me about it, so I didn't mention it, but now you're lying and hiding it? Show me."

"It's not that bad, that's why I didn't-"

"Natalia, show me." He pushed, standing opposite to her, seriousness all over his face.

Natalia sighed deeply, admitting defeat, before lifting her shirt, showing him her bruised, bloody and battered torso.

"I patched it up, its why I didn't say anything, and I didn't need stitches, so it's not even bad." She tried to soften the blow.

"Nat..." Daryl sighed, ghosting his fingers along her side, then checked that no one was around. "Baby, you shoulda told me."

"But I'm okay." She nodded, holding his cheek. "I'm okay, Daryl, so it's okay."

"It's not." He shook his head, looking down.

"It is, our children are all alive, you're alive and I'm alive, Dog is even alive." She chuckled. "That seems pretty okay to me."

"No... no, no it's not." He continued to shake his head, not meeting her eyes.

"It is, baby, it is, it's okay." She lifted his face, kissing him gently. "It's okay, Daryl, it's okay." She kissed him again.

He dropped his head onto her shoulder, his arms went around her, but he refused to properly hug her.

"Why don't we lay down, for a bit, find a quiet room-"

"I ain't gonna have sex with yer." He interrupted, through a sniff.

"That wasn't what I was implying." She laughed. "We can just lay down, for a bit, you need the rest, Luke's still working on his part, there's so many people here, and you need rest. You haven't stopped in days."

"M'fine." He lifted his head from her shoulder, looking down at her, his eyes were red and puffy, he looked so sad, it was breaking her heart just looking at him.

"You can't lie to me, I'm your wife and I'm injured, also, you're a bad liar, too. C'mon." She grabbed his hand, heading down the hallway, to find that empty room she spotted earlier, it had a bed in there, it would do.

"Alright, baby, you lay down, I'm just gonna go talk to Diane, okay? You stay here." Natalia pushed Daryl on the bed.

"But you shouldn't-"

"Stay, I'll be a minute." She narrowed her brows, glaring at him with a pointed finger, backing out the room.

Natalia used the wall as support to help her get to the crowded reception area of the hospital.

"Hey, uhm, Nat." Carol approached Natalia's side. 

"Nat!" Rosita swooped by, easing Natalia away.

"Thanks." She smiled.

"Hey, I'm pissed at her too, she tried to kill my best friend, Daryl might have forgiven her, but I sure as hell haven't."

"Speaking of which. We need some time to ourselves, he's, he's been through a lot, too, he needs a lil break, we're just gonna lay down for a lil bit, you'll come let us know when it's time?"

"Yeah, sure, just make sure you're not moaning too loud-"

"Ro! Good intentions only! He'll barely touch me cause he's too scared he'll break something." She scoffed.

"Go cuddle, you deserve it." Rosita nudged her. "Kid's are preoccupied, we're working on shit, I'll come get you."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." She smiled, and Natalia walked away, passing a book shelf, picking up one of the books on her way back to the room.

"Yer back." Daryl greeted her, laying on his back, his head supported by his arm.

"Told you, I would be. So you forgave Carol, after she put me in a coma?" She asked, closing the door and slipping her shoes off, sliding on the bed, next to him.

"Naw, just tryna make sure she doesn't do anything stupid, again. she said sorry." Daryl replied, sliding further down, resting his head on her shoulder, throwing an arm just under her ribs, above the cut on her abdomen, his left leg covered both of hers.

"I don't wanna hear it, don't care. I was being nice to her, and she almost got me blown up." She grumbled, running her fingers through his hair.

"I know, you tried hard, proud of yer." He mumbled, rubbing his head along her chest as he eased into sleep.

She continued to run her fingers through his hair, as he slept, it didn't matter that she was in an unbearable amount of pain, they're gonna make him risk his life in a few hours, and he was too caught up about her, she needed him to believe she was okay, so she'd do what she could to make him believe that.

She didn't realise she'd started humming that song, the song she used to sing to the twins when they were in the womb, Eyes Without A Face, fuck, she loved Billy Idol.

Rosita burst through the door, eventually, looking alarmed.

"You guys gotta get up, they found us, we're surrounded." She told them, when Daryl jumped awake.

People were running around like crazy, when they left the room, throwing things, grabbing things, fixing things, and then some breaking things, it was hectic and chaos.

"Girls, get away from the window- oh... shit..." Natalia muttered, when she pulled the twins from the sills, but then spotted the mass amount of walkers just outside. "Alright, duck and quietly walk back to your area." She told them. "Go play with the cat."

"Archies playing with the cat, with Evie and Lydia." Bambi told her.

"Then go play with Archie, Evie and Lydia, playing with the cat." Daryl told them, resting his hands on both their heads, steering them in that direction.

"I'm scared." RJ grabbed Natalia's hand, his other was holding Gracie.

"But we're safe up here, y'know that." She told the both of them, crouching down.

"You've seen how many are coming." Gracie pushed. "Lot's more than we have."

"That? Pfft, I've seen more, this is lightwork." She kept her cool. "Come on, let's go play with this cat, huh? We don't have to worry about this."

"But you always fight, Aunt Nat, you're the best at it, my daddy said." Gracie said.

"Aunt Nat's on rest, she ain't fighting nothing." Daryl pressed, not only speaking to the kids.

"Yeah, Aunt Nat's gonna sit this one out." She scrunched up her nose at them.

"Our plan is the same." Gabriel started, when everyone stood in the reception area, as he went over the logistics of what would happen.

Natalia stood beside Daryl, even though she wasn't allowed to participate, she wanted to know what her husband was going to be doing. She held his hand, resting her head against his shoulder as they listened.

"We lead the horde away, just not from oceanside as we had planned. Once the walkers are clear, we evacuate to Rendezvous Point B. Luke. We ready?" Gabriel asked the man.

"Yeah, yeah. Uh, technically." He stuttered, standing up.

"That doesn't fill me with a lot of hope." Natalia commented.

"Shut up, he's nervous." Daryl muttered, lowly, kissing her head as he spoke, with out people hearing.

"So, these are the final pieces that we need to connect to the wagon. But in order for it to do the pied piper thing that we need it to do over the cliff, we gotta get from A to B, and I gotta plug and plug, and then we should be good to go." He explained. 

"That wagon is on the other side of the horde." Magna, who had returned from the inside of the cave, traumatised, stated.

"So... someone's gotta go through it?" Jerry questioned. "With skins in there?"

"Four groups. Two in each. One carries the cargo, one protects. It's crucial that all the equipment makes it to the wagon." Gabriel continued.

"We can make it through. I'll help." Lydia offered.

"We're willing." Bea, from Oceanside, spoke up. "But not if she goes."

"And why's that?" Natalia asked.

"Stand down." Daryl told her.

"Well, we know she's earned trust with you, but... Oceanside isn't ready. Not with this."

"Says the girl who was shooting to kill at the age of ten."

"Stop." Daryl pushed.

"That's fine." Gabriel said loudly, trying to drown out the commotion of the other two. "As it happens, Lydia's role is in here."

"Look, we're not all gonna make it through." Daryl spoke to the group now. "But this is the only way."

"If Daryl's going, then so am I." Kelly declared.

Natalia made Daryl say goodbye to the kids, before he was required to gut up, she thought it would be best if they didn't see their father dressed up in walker shit, and smelling of it, too."

"You're not gonna die, are you, Daddy?" Bambi asked, hugging him tightly.

"Naw, sweetheart, I ain't." He promised. "I don't die, remember."

"That's cause you can beat anything, Daddy."

"Hell yeah." He grinned at Daisy, hugging her too. "Alright, lemme say goodbye, to my lil man." He took Archie out of Natalia's arms, giving him a dramatic kiss on the cheek, making the baby giggle. "He's getting heavy." Daryl bounced Archie in his arms, weighing the boy.

"He's getting old, soon, we're gonna have no babies left." Natalia pouted.

"That's not an excuse to have another one." Evie piped up.

"We ain't having another baby." Daryl told her. "Five is definitely enough."

"Five, but Daddy, you only have four kids, me, Daisy, Evie, and Archie." Bambi pointed at herself and her siblings.

"Yeah, but Lydia's also under our care, which technically makes her our kid, in a way." Natalia reminded the girl.

"Oh."

"Daryl, time's ticking." Gabriel walked past them.

"That man, he offs one person and thinks he's God, himself." Natalia grumbled.

"Hey, help me gut up." Daryl spoke quietly to her, passing Archie to Evie, kissing both their heads, then giving the twins another goodbye hug, kissing them, too, before reminding them all to stay safe and be good, and that he loves them.

"Alright, stay still for five minutes, Mommy'll be back." Natalia told the kids, following Daryl to the gutting station.

Daryl put the hoodie and the jeans over his clothes, and Natalia put on the large gloves, digging her hands in the matter and spreading it over him.

"I hate that I can't go with you, I hate feeling useless." Natalia told him, as she applied it on thickly, making sure no walker will sense him.

"Better to be useless in here, then dying out there." He told her, "You've done enough, already, you deserve to sit this one out."

"I know, but I still hate it." She pouted.

"Get your back for you, dear?" Luke asked Jules, as he helped her gut up, across from them. "You know I got your back out there, too, right?"

"Oh, and the rest of me?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm good to get that, too."

"Hey, you okay?" Jerry asked Magna, who was also going. "I mean, going back into the herd after everything..."

"I'm fine, you?" Magna smiled, meekly.

"Not at all." He replied truthfully.

"She gets to go..." Natalia rolled her eyes, as she finished up.

"She ain't end up in a coma." Daryl patted down her hair. "Hey!" He turned to Negan, who was stepping from foot to foot, looking rather uncomfortable. "Why you clean?"

"I ain't going." Negan admitted.

"You've done this more'n any of us."

"I am on the tip-top of every skins' kill list. Especially fee fi fo asshole. So if the idea is to get through without drawing a shitload of attention, then I am the last person these people want standing next to them."

"Please, Negan." Natalia stepped towards them, acting all innocent like. "Please, y'know, I'd feel a lot better if you went with them. I mean, no offense to these guys, but, no one will do a better job then you will, I mean, you're skilled, you know what's up, and... you got a winning personality." She played his own words against him. "You'd do it for me, wouldn't you? I'd go out there, but, I'm pretty weak, at the moment. But-- I'd feel so much better if you went with them." She went as far to stand on her tip toes, gently kissing his cheek, sealing the deal. "At least think about it." Then she led Daryl away.

"You're sick." He grumbled to her.

"Need to help somehow, don't worry, I'll bleach my lips, if it makes you feel better."

And it had worked, because Negan had gutted up.

"I love you, don't die on me." Natalia told Daryl, when Gabriel had called time.

"I ain't never gonna." He promised, he kissed Natalia, with tongue, and she knew exactly why, when he pulled away, staring down the tall, gutted up, man, wearing his whisperer mask.

"Daryl, you finished?" Gabriel asked him.

"Yup." He squeezed Natalia's hip, walking with the others, out of the door.

Natalia stood next to Judith, when they closed it again.

"He's gonna be alright." She told the girl.

"I know." She sighed. "Doesn't mean I'm not any less scared."

"That's a good thing, reminds yourself that you care, you're still alive and human."

He waved goodbye to the pair, smiling at them through the window, and they waved bye, back, and then Natalia took her and Lydia back upstairs, they didn't need to see the downstairs part fill up with walkers.

Next

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #carl grimes #carol peletier #daryl fanfiction #glenn rhee #michonne #rick grimes #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryldixonalonetwd #darylxnatalia #daryl x you #daryl x reader #twd daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #negan smith #rosita espinosa

[the-salem-devil]

SECRETLY SUPERNATURAL!HAVENFALL’S FINEST X READER [HEADCANNONS]

I know this would never happen, but imagine the crew of Havenfall’s finest dating you before you found out about their cryptid-ness and them actively keeping it a secret.

I know that keeping something that big would destroy a relationship but just ignore that and enjoy silly headcannons.

JD

-Ignoring the fact they wouldn’t even try to hide it lmao.

-Would defiantly make jokes and drop many hints about what they are/the supernatural, so much so you’ll feel dumb for missing the signs when you do inevitably find out.

-They’d (with humourless snark) describe their dad as “The Devil”, you’d take it as metaphorical but oh honey, if only you knew.

-You venting to your therapist that you think your partner might be a satanist, with all that pentagram stuff you are defiantly in your right so you can’t tease me I swear JD-

-Them making puns like, “A deal with the devil, Hm?” Or “The devil on your shoulder is telling you to make them some food, please babe I can’t cook- I mean they can’t cook-“

-I think you’d find out the quickest with JD, Hell (no pun intended), I think JD would be the one to spill the beans no matter who you date.

DIEGO ESCALONA:

-Dinner dates would be hilarious and extremely awkward, let’s start and end that there.

-But in all seriousness, he’d feel really guilty for keeping a secret that big from you, but would be so worried that you’d leave him over it.

-Would try to keep his vampiric habits multiple planets away from you.

-Him trying not to roll his eyes so hard they get stuck when you inevitably and unknowingly force him to watch twilight, or something similar to that.

-You’re plan to force him to eat some veggies after doctor lettuce makes you eat nothing but salads every time you’re together doesn’t exactly work, but he won’t tell you that.

-You making fun of him for talking like a old man, and he just has to sit there like 😀 “Haha, it’s just a habit of mine.” *sweating intensified*

-If you like drama (hard same.) than I can imagine that the way you’d find out about him is if Antonio disrupted Havenfall, like kidnapping your sister or smth, and he’d have to tell you.

MACKENZIE HUNT:

-“Honey, I woke up last night and you weren’t in bed, is everything alright?” “Yeah, just had to go outside to uh, check the mail.” Mackenzie smiles nervously as she inconspicuously throws her ripped shirt in the trash.

-Bro I don’t know why this is so funny to me, but the idea of Mackenzie accidentally growling infront of you and you being like “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT???” While laughing and her just being like 😀 “Haha, oops.”

-After you ask her why she kind of smells like a wet dog after a swim at the diseased lake she puts extra effort into concealing her wolf smell.

-Her pretending to work out a lot more than she actually does to justify her 💪🏽✨S T R E N G T H✨💪🏽

-I adore the story idea of you getting kidnapped by Damien’s pack or something similar and getting referred to as Mackenzies “partner” and you’re so confused until Mackenzie just fucking bursts in as her hot werewolf self like: weres my wife föckers

RAZI NASSAR:

-Okay, not as bad as JD, but I can see him also not making a huge effort to hide it.

-All the magical puns, so many.

-He’d %100 use his magic during sexy times, heightening your pleasure farther than any human could.

-We saw in his POV that he uses magic when cooking, so you will get the tastiest meals made to perfection by his magical fingertips.

-Like Diego, he’d be sitting there trying not to die when you also inevitably make him watch Aladdin, he’s just sitting there with you snuggled on his chest trying to remember all the things he loves about you to try and push through.

-“How is your apartment bigger than the damn bowling alley?! That’s not possible.” “Magic.”

-I think you’d find out when Jonas tries to brainwash you and he has to use his magic to save you.

BONUS: HIFL MC:

-Okay, I know she isn’t supernatural but I love the idea of both of you discovering this world together.

-Like, anything could happen, you get attacked by sirens or jumped by harpies.

-Imagine both of you trying to solve some supernatural mystery type thing but not knowing Havenfall’s finest is supernatural.

-Razi getting increasingly concerned when his favourite employee shows up smelling like centaur or some shit.

-I literally can’t stop laughing at the thought of you two defeating the big bad only to find out about Havenfall’s finest and being like, “We could have asked for help this entire time??? We almost died for no reason???”

-Overall 10/10 comedy between you two snarky fuckers quoting tumblr text posts like: “Bro do vampires drink through their teeth like straws?”

#havenfall is for lovers #razi nassar #diego escalona #mackenzie hunt #Jordan Davies #JD lovestruck #Lovestruck #Hifl #hifl fanfiction #hifl headcannons #Havenfall is for lovers headcannons #Antonio Vasquez #vanessa helsing

[snowbatsims]

VAMPIRE INTERMISSION #4

It's Rune's birthday today!

At least, according to the in-game calendar, where I once gave my vampires birth dates that remain consistent every year. No aging will be occurring, due to the whole vampire thing, but yeah.

It sure is Rune's birthday.

MORTEN: You know... I think we should throw him a little surprise party this year. EINARR: Oh, Rune? Sure. EINARR: I don't know exactly how birthday parties really work, so I'll leave you to it. MORTEN: hell yeah

And the decorations are up!

While waiting for the day to pass, they put on a movie: Moonlight Massacre III.

Einarr picked it this time. He has never seen it before, and honestly, Morten hasn't either. Not this one, anyway.

It was kind of... hmm.

character 1: oh, i can't wait to go camping in the woods with you guys today! :D character 2: ooooh but watch out......... isn't this where they said there would be... WEREWOLVES??? character 3: psssht, werewolves aren't real! we'll be fine ♡ character 1: yeah!! :D character 2: eh idk... i'd rather be safe than sorry. character 3: lmao coward ♡ 1 and 3: *laugh* character 2: wha- hey! wait for me!!

EINARR: They're all about to die. MORTEN: I mean that would make sense, it's called Moonlight Massacre after all. EINARR: And it'll definitely be to werewolves, which happen to be real in their world too, much like in ours. Calling it. MORTEN: Yeah... there have been werewolves in this series before. Wouldn't surprise me.

MORTEN: ...Wait, did you just say they were real?

EINARR: Well of course! If immortal bat-shifting blood-drinkers like ourselves exist, why wouldn't some people who turn into a wolf at the full moon exist too? EINARR: Some even claim we're two sides of the same coin, though I haven't truly fact-checked that. EINARR: Either way, they are reclusive creatures! I may have run into some a couple times over the centuries... they all wanted me dead, of course. EINARR: Vampires and werewolves really don't mix at all.

MORTEN: What are they like in real life, anyway? Do you remember enough? MORTEN: Are they like, these horrifying bloodthirsty manwolves, or... are they more like furries. EINARR: Who's Furries? MORTEN: ...

EINARR: It's a strange name, but I know better than to question the validity of it. What context am I missing here?

MORTEN: ...

EINARR: Well? Don't leave me hanging like that. EINARR: Did this Furries person do something egregious? MORTEN: Um. Well, it's not a person. MORTEN: Let's just say they're cute animal characters some people like to draw. They got human features like the ability to talk and maybe walk on two legs, that sort of stuff. MORTEN: And I guess in this context I mostly referred to them as like, the opposite of bloodthirsty powerhungry evil manwolves who rip people apart. Sorry. EINARR: I see...

MORTEN: So! Which one is a real werewolf the most like? EINARR: ... EINARR: I'd say both, actually. MORTEN: Oh?? So you mean like- EINARR: Wait. The movie...

EINARR: That does not look like a wolf at all. MORTEN: Oh right, we were supposed to be watching this slop...

MORTEN: .... MORTEN: Is that murderer guy seriously just a man in a cheap bunny costume? EINARR: Looks like it. MORTEN: Aaaaand all the characters are already dead. EINARR: Yes. That didn't take very long, did it?

MORTEN: And here I was actually almost looking forwards to seeing that werewolf they were going on about!! Bruh. EINARR: Budget cuts, probably. MORTEN: Sure, or it's just the film-makers' poor idea of a cool plot twist. Like wow, look! It wasn't a werewolf after all! It's just another budget scoobydoo villain, here to kill everyone... EINARR: Scooby doo was that cartoon about those kids and that talking dog, right? MORTEN: Yeah. EINARR: ... EINARR: Does... Scooby doo qualify as a "furry"?

MORTEN: That sure is a question.

-------

MORTEN: Welp, movie's over! And I just remembered that our human guests will probably want food. EINARR: Oh! True, I almost forgot about that. MORTEN: Party starts in maybe three hours. Go do your stuff while I bake Rune a cake. EINARR: Alright! Just remember, do not put on the candles. Those seem to have mysterious magical properties when placed on a cake... even a vampire can grow older from blowing those out. I've seen it happen. MORTEN: Wait, who? Vlad Straud? EINARR: Well, why do you think he looks so grey already? Vladislaus blew out those candles and now he looks like an old man. And that was the last birthday he ever celebrated. MORTEN: Alright, good to know. I do think our human guests will want cake either way! EINARR: They'll love it.

It was at this point Mort decided they actually really enjoy baking.

Meanwhile...

EINARR: BAT... How many times-

EINARR: The laundry basket is RIGHT THERE.

EINARR: It's no use. I cannot wake him until the sun is down anyway, he'll just get extremely pissy about it.

EINARR: What ever. Every day is laugardagr with these kids in the house. EINARR: It's fine. I chose to live with them.

And the cake is done. No candles, as ordered!

CONTINUE ->

#my sims #gameplay #vampire intermissions #WELL LOOK WHO FINALLY GOT RESHADE AGAIN #also yes. i am well aware the vampire intermission is turning out longer than the actual legacy GHFKJDHJ #i'm building up to something i promise

[eilinelsghost]

Fifteen Questions for Fifteen Mutuals

Thanks for the tag, @actual-bill-potts!!

Are you named after anyone? Lol yes. I was supposed to have both first and middle be after a great-gma, but my mom liked how a waitress signed her name on a receipt when mom was 8 months pregnant, so my first got changed at the last minute. (on here I go by my middle because...uh...I actually hate my first name haha.)

Do you have kids? Yep! One excellent lil 3 year old.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Why, is it not apparent?

When was the last time you cried? Last week, I think? I do some side work in abuse survivor advocacy and some things were pretty rough.

What's the first thing you notice about other people? Their smiles maybe? I need to pay more attention to this.

Eye colour? Brown.

What sports do you/have played? I played soccer as a kid, but spent the whole time pretending I was in the armies of Gondor, so that was not a huge success. Does writing count as a sport or....?

Any special talent? I generally feel like I'm good at a lot of things, but great at....uh nothing? So I'm not sure I have a special talent. Things I like doing, though, are playing piano and violin, cooking, making (and eating) rhubarb pie, puns, and now teaching myself how to draw - which has been surprisingly fun!

Where were you born? Illinois, USA

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I don't mind sad necessarily, but not big on scary. Also do not let anything happen to the animals. (My husband literally checks a website called does the dog die dot com before we watch anything just to play it safe.)

Do you have any pets? I have an extremely anxious little dachshund-beagle mutt that we got from a rescue. She is a damn delight and an absolute mess of a canine and I adore her.

How tall are you? 5'6"

What are your hobbies? I guess see the special talent question because apparently I answered it with a list of hobbies haha.

Favorite subject in school? English lit/writing and history

Dream job? I actually don't have a dream job! I spent a lot of my early life wanting to be a screenwriter/director, but now I honestly just want a nice, chill job that keeps work at work, lets me do a 9-5, and enables me to do the things I love outside of it. Which is the setup I have right now and it's working out pretty great.

------

I think I've seen all my mutuals I'd tag here already tagged, so if you see this and think it sounds fun, consider yourself tagged!

#asks and ansers

[sunfl0wer-h0ur]

headcanons for you ♡♡

Finn 💚

listens to dodie and liana flores probably

enjoys old classic fairy tales!! has those really thick books full of brothers grimm stories

you'll occasionally find him outside sketching the landscape or pretty scenes in the garden

sleeps relatively early and insists you do the same (on working days at least)

tears up at least a little bit when he feels any powerful emotion

owns some sort of forest animal or amphibian as a pet!! maybe a hedgehog or turtle?

loves ghibli movies!! favors totoro but enjoys all of them

pleasepleaseplease kiss his face. literally anywhere there he'll die (affectionate)

PLAY WITH HIS HAIR HE'LL LOSE HIS MIND

Seth 🤎

stargazes regularly; just sitting on the roof and looking at the stars with you is one of his favorite things

let him be your little spoon!! he loves holding you but wants to feel protected too ♡♡

catches fireflies in jars just to look at them for a bit (there are holes poked in the top and he lets them go don't worry)

has really bad handwriting. like genuinely illegible; it's just how he is

dry hands; you have to FORCE lotion onto this mf

kinda clumsy tbh

"no, sugar, it's fine i got it- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aa-ZIXJdDW4"

(ohhh i love bullying all of them sometimes i'm sorry 😭😭)

Alphonse 💖

chews gum/eats mints and wears lip balm CONSTANTLY just for you

wears socks to sleep because he's insane (it's not that bad i'm being dramatic so i can make fun of him)

smells like snow fairy from lush (i'm pretty sure yuuri said this himself? just repeating it cause i like the idea lol)

sends a lot of reaction images over text

owns many little trinkets that clutter his room (keychains, good luck charms, etc.)

self-care nights!! bubble baths, face masks, movie marathons- you name it he'll probably have it

REALLY skilled with makeup and will do yours if you'd like!!!

the occasional slow dance in the kitchen if he's feeling particularly sweet <3

Auron 🖤

smells like an expensive, subtle cologne; either that or he just smells like nothing

ik i said he's probably (physically) cold in my last set of headcanons but other times i look at him and it's like if room temperature was a scent

fancy nights out on the town!!  linking arms and admiring the views down the city streets whuajwakfsdfakd (i love him)

doesn't get drunk too easily but gets really philosophical and talks your ear off when he does (dramatic mf)

eventually goes silent for a bit and falls asleep; gets a nasty headache when morning comes! please take care of him

NEVER takes his glasses off unless he's going to sleep; genuinely he can't see anything without them

if you show him something on your phone he'll do the mom thing where he squints and brings it closer to his eyes

Faust 💙

eats a lot of junk food probably (cute packaging is very enticing)

has a good eye for interior design! i just know his room is the most coordinated thing ever (in terms of theme)

coordinated does NOT equal neat. he'll only tidy his house if you tell him to and promise to help

owns a lot of jewelry; checks what kind of gold or silver suits you more and will buy you whatever you like <3

very fluffy hair!! he puts a lot of effort into caring for it and appreciates when you notice

blushes noticeably and goes into denial if you bring it up (bonus points if you kiss him or call him cute when his face flushes; he'll go insane)

Charlie 💛

i CANNOT say this enough he's such a loser and i love him for it

takes pictures of animals he sees in the streets and sends them to you (dogs on walks, squirrels, birds, etc.)

also very clumsy, but he does his best not to be! (ends up failing half the time but it's the effort that counts)

a bad cook so he just orders takeout for your home dates (appreciates it if you wanna teach him! or if you both don't know how you can learn together; it's a mess but it's fun)

sunburns pretty easily. get my boy his spf❗️❗️

started cleaning himself up all nice and putting more effort into looking neat after he met you, before you even started dating

side note: he reminds me of this

hope you like these!! my dms are open if you wanna talk more ♡

Omg I fucking love these <33

[casspurrjoybell-19]

Does it Matter? - Chapter 51 - Part 1

*Warning: Adult Content*   

"Get in," the bearded man said once they'd climbed off the horses, giving Dara a shove in the direction of the cage.

"Your friend, too. Used to keep dogs in that thing but the wolves got 'em. I'm sure it'll hold the two of you just as well."

"I'm sorry," Dara murmured to Bug in Eulan, taking advantage of an excuse to speak under the guise of translation.

"Me too," Bug murmured back.

He couldn't imagine why Dara thought this was his fault.

Maybe he'd intended it in the same sense as telling someone you're sorry when a loved one of theirs dies.

Not a matter of fault.

They crawled into the cage and the bearded man slammed the door shut before locking a padlock in place on the door.

Bug hugged the coat around himself.

It was getting cold but the coat kept him warm enough for now.

"Are you cold?" he whispered to Dara once the men were far away enough.

Dara shook his head.

"Only a little. My body won't let me get too cold."

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Even if we escape, we'll be on foot with no supplies. And you..."

"Promise me that if we get the chance to escape, we'll take it. I would rather die free than become a slave again."

Dara hesitated.

"Okay. I promise."

As Dara started examining the cage they were in, Bug watched the men talk and laugh.

They didn't seem like monsters when they interacted with one another.

They just seemed like people.

Lord Nolan had never really cared much for anyone but himself and Fraccus...

Well, it was hard to know what trauma had brought him to where he had ended up but he had hardly seemed like a person anymore.

In a way, it was harder for Bug to comprehend how men like these could stomach what they were doing.

How someone capable of connecting with others could simply decide some people were not people.

It happened all the time, of course.

Bug knew that.

Slavery was an integral part of their society and it couldn't be that everyone was just evil.

No, they were just humans who were fully capable of feeling love and empathy who had chosen to direct none of it at certain people because it benefited them not to.

Feeling sad about that would get him nowhere, though.

It was time to see what the future had on offer.

Bug closed his eyes and took in the array of tiny lights that represented all the possible futures that lay ahead of him.

He had half expected every one of them to dead end in the near future but of course no matter how dire things seemed, that was never the case.

Even so... there were a great deal more opportunities for death in his near future than he was used to seeing.

Perhaps that mattered very little, though.

Perhaps the vastness of possibilities was only an illusion.

He had been shown a vision of that night with Brayan since he was a child.

He hadn't chanced into that singular outcome out of all the possibilities.

He didn't know if the thing guiding him could hear his thoughts, whether it would listen even if it could but he sent up a silent plea to please, please get them both out of this alive without more long years of suffering to pay for it.

Bug picked a random moment a few hours into the future, dove in and endured just a couple of seconds of what his mind was pummeled with before pulling back and opening his eyes.

"I made a mistake."

Dara turned from where he'd been examining the back of the cage.

"A mistake?"

"Looking into the future is largely useless. There are countless possibilities and no way to know what will come to pass, so often I don't even bother looking but there is one thing I can predict every single time, without fail. The weather."

"The weather?"

"It's early in the year for it. It didn't even cross my mind. The rains are coming. Tonight."

Dara sat back.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. Even if we hadn't been captured, we would have been in a lot of trouble. I should have checked."

Dara shook his head.

"I'm not upset. Maybe it's better that we're here. Maybe they'll let us in the tents so that you don't freeze."

"It's not better. I told you. I'd rather take our chances as free men."

Dara hesitated.

"Then... this might be an opportunity for it. When the rains come, they're sudden, heavy. They mask sound, block vision. Under the cover of heavy rain, we wouldn't have to get far at all before it would become almost impossible to track us down but... the cold."

The cold, which would easily take Bug's life but which Dara's body wouldn't let touch him too deeply.

"This is what I want. Do you think we can get out of the cage?"

Dara nodded.

"This cage was never intended to hold people and the joins at the back are rusted. I think a few solid kicks should knock it out. Can you find out exactly when the rain starts?"

"Of course," Bug said.

"It will take me a little while to find the right moment, but once I do, there's no doubt. The weather is reliable."

[sansxfuckyou]

I will light the match that burns everything down

Summary: even when everything is coming to screaming halt, Zeno will still be there for Gunvolt, and Gunvolt for Zeno

Warnings: blood loss, near death, heavy hurt and mild comfort, mass violence, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I just think they're neat and easy to angst, if you enjoy consider dropping a comment on the Ao3 port

Zeno's hand finds itself resting on top of Gunvolt's head, braid not undone, but fingers sifting through the near spiked hair. He does it without any thought behind his motions, it just happens whenever he has to sit still for too long.

They're stuck in the back of a truck for this mission, a box truck to be specific. Only a thin window let's in light, and Asimov is driving this truck, with Zeno and Gunvolt in the back because they're strong enough to front the assault on Sumeragi. Accompanying trucks will follow their release promptly afterwards and everything will be perfectly fine.

But Zeno is impatient.

"GV..." Zeno whined loudly as he dropped his head on Gunvolt's shoulder, hands wrapped around his friends bare abdomen. "I'm bored..."

Gunvolt gives a noncommittal hum, "Be patient."

"But it's so boring! There's nothing to do in the back of this truck except wait!" Zeno cried out as he released Gunvolt and stood up, pacing around the moving truck bed, the sheer darkness didn't help his state either. Nothing to see, nothing to do, it got on his nerves. He practically slammed himself against the wall of the van and slid down it opposite of Gunvolt, "We should've been in a truck with more people, there's so much room in here. And the ground isn't comfy."

"There's an armchair and a mattress strapped down," Gunvolt said bluntly, "They didn't even bother emptying the leftovers before lending us these moving vans, you don't have to sit on the floor."

"The mattress is stiff."

"The chair?"

"The chair is stiff."

"I'd offer you sit on my lap but that'd be... My legs would get sore."

Zeno whimpers pathetically, akin to a dog.

"Go sit on the mattress."

And Zeno reluctantly walks over to the mattress and lays down on it, it's cold and uncomfortable, but he manages. It's better than the metal flooring of the van even if the buckles used to strap it down dig into his back. He waits patiently for Gunvolt to eventually join him on the mattress, which he knows is an inevitability.

When Gunvolt does drop down he doesn't have any preemptive signs that it'll happen, he startles and Gunvolt has the gall to laugh. He sits on the edge of the mattress and tries to watch as Zeno sits up with hitched knees even in the darkness.

The road rumbles below their feet, and the confines of the van are soundproofed enough their driver can't hear them. It's dark and cold and definitely a little bit dank, but there's an odd comfort too it even with nothing to do or say. In a brief moment of vulnerability, Zeno sighs and then he decides to break their banter filled silence.

"What if we die out there? Asimov said it'd be our last mission against Sumeragi," Zeno asked quietly, but just loud enough to hear over the sound of rubber on concrete.

"We won't die," Gunvolt said plainly, "We'll live."

"What if he's suicide bombing us in one last attempt? He's been getting pretty desperate, GV." Zeno wrapped his arms around his knees and tapped his feet on the mattress, "He's sending us out on the front lines, we're leading this assault on Sumeragi. He knows those that go out front usually die first, it's kind of scary when you think about it."

That gives Gunvolt pause, he hadn't thought of it that way, he didn't want too think of it that way. He shuffles himself fully onto the mattress to look at Zeno, their small sliver of sunshine caught both of them in it's glow. He doesn't know what to say, "If it gets really sketchy out front, we'll bail."

"We'll bail? This is the only way you get money, GV. You can't bail, neither can I," Zeno said, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"We'll bail and then we'll work for Sumeragi."

"But Joule-!"

"I'm good at bartering, we'll figure it out, Zeno."

Zeno tries to smile, "Alright, GV, I trust you."

Gunvolt tries to smile back, "I'm not letting you get killed out there."

"I'm not letting you die either, not for QUILL, not like this," Zeno said, his voice was tender. He sounded weak, he sounded scared, he didn't sound bold or jokey or like his usual self- he was being vulnerable because he wasn't being monitored inside of this box truck.

There's a very small moment of pause before Gunvolt shuffles over to Zeno and leans into him, hands find themselves carding through Gunvolt's hair in seconds. Sifting through flaxen locks to try and stop thinking about the mission they're soon to go through with whether they like it or not. Zeno rests his head on Gunvolt's shoulder and pulls the blonde close defensively because he doesn't know if he'll get to hold his friend again.

"I love you, Gunvolt," Zeno said quietly, and the phrasing made him cringe but he didn't know how else to say it, "You're my best friend in this whole wide world and I don't know if I'd be here without you."

"I love you too, Zeno," Gunvolt whispered back, knocking the side of his head on Zeno's gently in a catlike manner. "You're the best friend I have, and the best mission navigator I had, even if you were bad at infiltration missions."

-/-/-/-

Zeno feels lightheaded as sticky blood rolls down the back of his neck from his head. An armored elbow collided with him for the brief second he lost focus and he went down hard. His body hit the ground and amidst all the chaos he's shocked he isn't being trampled even as he watches more and more hit the ground with him.

The only difference between him and them is that they're dead and he isn't. He hears bullets fire and Septima's flare and the scent of gore assaults him as he watches it crawl through cracked pavement. This is what the history books meant when they said war is hell, he decides as he watches six more bodies drop in a spray of blood and a cacophony of screams.

He knows Sumeragi is winning, he knows and he can't do anything but play dead and hope they don't shoot him to be safe. He wonders if Gunvolt is still alive, they lost each other in the first few moments of the fray as everything broke loose. Tanks fell forth, the foot soldiers rushed out, even the stronger Adept's in Sumeragi were released to quell the final mission QUILL enacted.

He watches one more body drop down next to him and he feels the worst kind of guilt imaginable when he recognizes the face and the hair and the outfit despite all the wounds. He watches as Gunvolt's chest rises and falls at a ragged rate and threatens to stop moving entirely. He watches as Gunvolt opens his eyes and tries to smile as a hand awkwardly clutches his blown out upper arm as it oozes into his deep navy sleeve.

"You were right," Gunvolt managed to laugh out, his voice is wet and he sounds like death, "Asimov is suicide bombing us, we are dying today."

Zeno can barely pick out Gunvolt's voice amidst the chaos and he feels his heart actively shatter and the shards hurt as they tear open his chest. His eyes sting and he'll lie and say it's because of the blood even though he knows it isn't. He reaches a hand out for Gunvolt and sighs, "I failed, I should've protected you."

"Zeno, we got separated, this isn't your fault," Gunvolt said as he reached out to grab Zeno's hand and hold it firmly. The blood is warm and it's a mix of blood from people they didn't and did know, all dead now.

Zeno closed his eyes, "We never should've come on this mission, GV."

"We didn't have a choice." Gunvolt tried to sit up, tried to stand, tried to drag himself closer. It just resulted in wincing and hissing because every single inch of his body aches from the warfare it's withstood for so long.

"Don't move," Zeno said quietly, damn near whispered it, before shuffling himself closer to his friend. He held on tight and Gunvolt was getting colder with every drop of blood that spilled forth. He clutched onto the worst wounds and tried to act like it helped even as red trickled out between his fingers, "It'll just make things worse."

"Do you think Sumeragi would've accepted us?" Gunvolt asked, "If we ever had a chance of surviving this mess?"

Zeno nods, "Yeah, I'm sure of it." He doesn't care that he's lying because it's what his best friend needs to hear in his last moments. Blood seeps into his clothing and the static discharge that Gunvolt can't properly regulate is uncomfortable but he manages.

"You aren't dying out here, Zeno," Gunvolt whispered, his words sounded awry with the liquid pooling in his mouth that he can't spit out.

"You aren't either, dumbass," Zeno whispered back with a forced chuckle. He reached to run a hand through the blondes hair.

And Gunvolt let himself go limp and whimper in agony, finally cracking under the weight of the world on his shoulders. He'd never have another chance to cry or be vulnerable or let Zeno hold him close and say 'its okay' even when it isn't. He curls in on himself as he sobs and waits for the threshold of blood loss to arrive so he can just die already.

And Zeno is patient and doesn't let go for a second and wipes the blood from Gunvolt's lips as he nearly chokes on the stuff. And he waits as the fight calms down and as Gunvolt still holds on even though he knows he's past repair. He lays on the cold concrete with an ache in his skull and his heart and he stays patient as the bodies are swept up after the survivors fled from the scene.

It's Viper whose standing over their display of vulnerability and Zeno looks up at him and says one word:

"Help."

-/-/-/-

"Oi! GV!"

Gunvolt gives a hum as Zeno traipses over to him. His pen guides swirled lettering onto the piece of paper he's signing, the contracts he has to redo every single year. He almost stifles when Zeno ruffles his hair before dropping down in the chair across.

"Did you hear the good news yet?" Zeno asked as he leans over the table.

"What good news?" Gunvolt asked.

"Our Glaive's man! They're getting upgraded."

"Upgraded?"

"I got word from Nova, he said that on account of how good we've been we'll get to have more free range to our Septima's!" Zeno's grinning, and Gunvolt feels ill.

He feels ill because he's being given a false freedom for being so obedient it makes him feel lightheaded. He gives a sound, it isn't committed to much of anything. He hasn't been committed to anything in the Sumeragi establishment since they decided to use Joule again. To a much lesser degree, but they were still using her and he couldn't stop them, and neither could Zeno. They just had to watch Joule's weekends fade away into being locked in a chair and used by the machinery that abuses her Septima.

And now that he's been such a good dog and never once bit the hand that feeds him, his collar is being loosened. The leash is still the same length, but the grip isn't tight enough to make him choke anymore.

"That's great," Gunvolt said with a grimace too his tone.

Zeno's mood dropped off the face of the planet at his friends reaction. He sighs lightly, "I'm sorry they're fucking up Joule, we'll be on our way as soon as our Glaive's are fully disabled."

"Would it be wrong to say that I miss QUILL?" Gunvolt asked.

"Well considering that they let us die in vain, I'd say it's weird." Zeno tried to laugh, but it was hard. It was hard to laugh about anything QUILL related unless they were talking shit about it. The deep scars on Gunvolt's body made it harder when Zeno could see them, "But the freedom? I miss the freedom."

Gunvolt nods in somber agreement, "I think it'll kill me one day, Zeno?"

"Not having freedom?" Zeno asked and Gunvolt shook his head.

"I don't think I'm discharging enough electricity," Gunvolt said.

"Go chat with Viper," Zeno said, "He's always down to spar, or blow off some steam- he's got a new way of saying 'lets beat each other up!' every day."

"I think he still hates me for saving Joule," Gunvolt confessed, "I'm shocked he even saved us at all."

Zeno shrugged, "Either way I'll take life over death, even if some of our coworkers hate us."

"Thanks," Gunvolt said, the words abruptness caught Zeno off guard, so did the carefully guarded vulnerability Gunvolt let show through. He never let himself be vulnerable, a hallway in Sumeragi headquarters is not Zeno's first guess of places Gunvolt would open up.

"What for?" Zeno asked, leaning over the table a bit more. He propped his elbows on the surface and held his chin in both hands as he waited for Gunvolt to speak. He waited patiently, obediently even, and Gunvolt knew how to differentiate the look and no one else did. He knew this was obedience, impatient obedience, but obedience in waiting for Gunvolt to speak.

"For when I was dying," Gunvolt said quietly, "I was scared, and you were there for me." He sounds stifled as he speaks, but he still speaks regardless, trying to get it all out. Things he's voiced so very, very frequently in the dead of night when the terrible images flash through his mind.

Zeno still listens all the same, but he shuts it down because he fears someone may walk through and hear it. "GV, you're embarrassing me, you're so awkward man."

Gunvolt smiles roughly, not quite offended at Zeno, "I can't even say thanks, you should learn to accept praise."

"You should learn how to talk."

#azure striker gunvolt #zeno azure striker gunvolt #gunvolt #azure striker gunvolt fanfic #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw violence #tw crying #tw near death

[thenerdthatwrites]

A/N; So, I wrote a play earlier this year, and well, I decided this week that I wanted to write a one-shot for the play.

My Tears Ricochet

As Jade sat at the bench, looking over the water, bright lights from the rides dazzling her cheeks from behind she contemplated everything that had happened in the last month.

Her best friend had died, another one of her friends had died as well in the same night, and one of her closer friends killed them both in a plot to leave the house that night and never tell a soul.

Checking her watch, Jade took out the anti-anxiety medication bottle from her bag that sat beside her as she watched the shore slowly come in and out, taking a couple of pills as prescribed by the doctor she had seen only a few weeks prior having had a breakdown at work.

Ever since the breakdown of that night, Jade had barely been living. Everywhere she looked she saw Dove. Her laugh in a car horn, or her classic heel click from Sally’s heels down the corridor.

Dove’s will was read out a fortnight ago, and from looking at it, her lawyers said that Dove came in in a rush one day just to update her will. That part was to cut Sky out.

No one knew this would happen, but even when Sky walked in with a smirk on her face Jade despised her more than she already had.

The worst part was that the funeral was yesterday.

All her friends had to plan it because she had no one left.

Dove was the life and the joy of the party, but she had no one in life.

Even as Jade, Ash and Ginger looked over photos from their years together, as Dove lost everyone, the smile just got dimmer and dimmer, like a light losing its power throughout time, the flickering of hope still there, but the brightness was lost a long time ago.

And as she thought over all that, Jade turned back to the lights flickering behind her as screams from the roller coaster went by, sending Jade back to the glass-shattering screams she heard herself make on the night of her death.

It felt funny to Jade, the fact that screams could mean so many different things, fear, rage, sadness, joy.

Screaming was like an umbrella term for so many emotions you couldn’t understand how or why screaming came about in the first place.

Jade then thought about Ginger, Ash.

That was the whole reason she was on the bench anyway, so she could meet up with them both.

Ginger had gotten quieter. She hadn’t gone and said if she was okay or not like when she’s lost people in the past. She just sat and survived. There was no living about her for the first week and a half after Dove’s death.

Ash on the other hand had gotten angry. Angry that they hadn’t seen it in enough time, angry that they hadn’t done anything when Dove and Lavender died. Angry that they were alive and the others weren’t. Angry that Sky gets away with this and leaves us to pick up the pieces. Very quickly they had all realised that Ash needed some control just now so convinced them to take a few weeks off, and they had only gone back to work last week.

Jade had been through the most unhealthy grieving throughout the whole grieving process so far. You see, she doesn’t have a husband and kids to get her moving in the mornings like Ginger. She doesn’t have articles needing to be written or dogs to be walked like Ash does. All she has is her friends and her job. No in between.

Lately Jade had been living at her parents just so she could have that support, but like all parents, they have things to do as well. So, it was Jade herself that had to make the effort. She got herself up in the morning, got ready, went to work, goes for lunch at a specific time and has the same lunch every day. Clocks out at the same time and makes sure to go to bed at the same time before starting the clock again.

With Dove and Lavender's deaths the clock felt it was starting to speed up, life feeling short as it already was, death just speeding it up more.

No one ever wants to die, but now, Jade was starting to welcome the idea of it with open arms, not knowing how much more of the world she could take without cracking. The was the saddest thing she’d realised in all the madness.

Jade felt that anywhere she went, she could neer just go home. Her home left when Dove drank that poison and the spark of hope finally went out.

Jade’s spark on the other hand, that left when she had to check her friend’s pulse.

When Lavender died.

When they found the letter.

When the blackout happened.

When she found the murder weapon.

And most importantly, when Sky tried to kill her.

The unravelling started there as the thoughts wound their way into Jade’s mind, an ironclad grip on the memories of her friends, so much so tears started to trickle out of her eyes, and Jade had to contain herself from sobbing, keeping as strong a face as she could, sitting on a bench on Coney Island, wondering where her friends went, hoping that the ones that were still with her would be there as she couldn’t lose them.

That was actually the saddest revolution Jade had over the last weeks.

The fact that she was becoming Dove by losing everyone she loved till all she had was herself.

Jade always applauded herself for being so independent and confident, but now, all she needed was her friends, and after looking around. Jade didn’t know whether to jump into the freezing ocean or check herself into a mental hospital.

So she sat.

The Coney Island lights ricocheting off her skin like the tears were.

Just hoping and waiting that her friends would come.

#original fiction #play #writer #oneshots #oneshot #mystery

[etakeh]

Twelve strangers wake up in a clearing. They don’t know where they are—or how they got there. In the shadow of a dark internet conspiracy theory, ruthless elitists gather at a remote location to hunt humans for sport. But their master plan is about to be derailed when one of the hunted turns the tables on her pursuers.

I just watched this movie, and HOOBOY

I understand why so many reviews are rabidly political and have no thing to do with the quality of the movie.

From both "sides".

It'll piss off performative liberals and edgy right-wingers equally. as well as anyone who takes themselves too seriously.

Highly recommend. Just be ready to laugh at stereotypes, even if you kinda fit them.

There are some names in here as well - Betty Gilpin, Hilary Swank, Emma Roberts, Ethan Suplee, Amy Madigan and a bunch of other people the friends* I watched it with recognized.

It's got violence, that's kind of the whole point, so you know. You've been warned. Guns mostly, but they do get creative at times.

**CW violence against animals** be sure to check Does The Dog Die before you watch. I mean, that goes for all movies honestly, if you are worried about having a trigger or just really fucking unpleasant sneak up on you.

*horror movie nerds in a horror movie nerd discord group

#movies #violent #blood #politics #liberal elite #deplorables #manorgate

[clavainov]

The Parable of Perfect Silence by Christian Wiman (2018)

Today I woke and believed in nothing. A grief at once intimate and unfelt, like the death of a good friend’s dog.

Tired of the mind reaching back in the past for rescue I praise the day. I don’t mean merely some mythical, isolate instant like the mindless mindfulness specialist who at the terminal cancer convention (not that it was called that) exhorted the new year’s crop of slaughters (ditto) to “taste” the day, this one unreplicable instant of being alive. (The chicken glistened.) Nor do I mean a day devoid of past and future as craved that great craze of minds and times Fernando Pessoa, who wanted not “the present” but reality itself, things in their thingness rather than the time that measures them. Time is in the table at which I sit and in the words I type. In the red-checked shirt my father’s mother used to wear when she was gardening and which I kept because it held her smell (though it does no longer) there is still plenty of time.

Two murderers keep their minds alive while they wait to die. They talk through slots in their doors of whatever mercy or misery the magazine has ordained for the day —  the resurgence of the Taliban in Afghanistan, say, ten signs that a relationship is on the rocks. When their communion flags, as communions will, they rekindle it with personal revelations, philosophical digressions, humor. This is a true story, one of them says sometimes by way of preface, as if that gave the moment more gravity, asked of the listener a different attention, at once resisted and reinforced an order wherein every hour has its sound, every day its grace, and every death is by design.

“Love is possible for anyone,” I hear the TV talk-show host say, which is true in the way most things in this life are true, which is to say, false, unless and until the nullifying, catalyzing death is felt. Love is possible for anyone because it is equally impossible for everyone. To be is to be confronted with a void, a blankness, a blackness that both appeals and appalls. Once known — known by the void, I mean — one has three choices. Walk away, and unlearn the instinct of awe. Walk along, and learn to believe that awe asks nothing of you. Are you with me, love?

(For love read faith.)

Naked once and after a rat, my father cried, “Die, vermin, die!” banging the broomstick over and over on the floor so incorrigibly dirty it might as well have been the earth itself. This is my mother’s story, though I was there, I’m told, and no small part of the pandemonium. We were five souls crammed into one life, and so incorrigibly poor — or was that fear? — we all slept in one room and shared one great big chester drawers, as we called it, and not with irony but in earnest ignorance, just as like meant lack, as in “How much do you like bein’ done with your chemo?” and just as I and every other child I knew, before we tucked into our lemon meringue pie, solemnly wiped the calf slobbers off. Ah, local color, peasant levity, the language fuming and steaming rich as the mist of rot that rises off the compost heap (“kitchen midden,” you might hear an old Scot still say). When do we first know? That there’s a world to which we’ve been, not oblivious, exactly, but so inside we couldn’t see it, who now see nothing else? Heaven is over. Or hell. Did you forget the rat? It thumps and thrashes like a poltergeist inside the chest of drawers but somehow, though my father is fast, and though his rage is becoming real, every drawer he opens is empty. What happens when we die, every child of every father eventually asks. What happens when we don’t is the better question.

To kill a wasp on water is the peak of speed. My brother who is other has a mind of lead. I with my stinging griefs watch from away. How can it be there are no adults left? What matters here is timing, not time. His hand is high and white above the blue. A wasp is also atom and urge, hover and touch. Even wings are not a clean distinction. Down comes the slap like a rifle shot. What vengeance can there be on blank necessity? My brother who is other has a way. His hand is high and white. And then it’s not.

Once when my father’s mother’s health was failing and she found it more and more difficult to tend to the tiny family plot at Champion, Texas, which is less town than time at this point, a blink of old buildings and older longings the rare driver flashes past, I took it upon myself to salt the graves as I must have read somewhere would work for unwanted growths. As indeed it did. In the months after, every Sunday when we spoke, she thanked me for the blankness, the blackness, (my words, of course) this new ease I had allowed her mind. Until one day leaning over with flowers the leached earth opened and my eighty-year-old grandmother tumbled right down among the bones of the woman from whom she’d first emerged. To see that image you have to be that sky. It has to happen in you, that crushing calling viewless blue that is so deeply in you that it is not you. “O, Law’, honey, I like to died.”

You don’t climb out of poverty so much as carry it with you. Some shell themselves with wealth. Some get and spend, get and spend, skimming existence like a Jesus lizard. But for those whose souls have known true want — whose souls perhaps are true want —  money remains, in some sense, permanently inert, like an erotic thought that flashes through a eunuch’s brain. In 1980 my father bought his first airplane, a scream-proof four-seater we crammed five inside, which he considerately slammed into a sorghum field alone. Unkillable, he killed the next ten years with work and wives, then bought another, and brought it down in the solitary fire that was his aspect and atmosphere. Homes, schemes, thirty years of savings plowed into a sign company (!) that did not, it turned out, exist. A hole is hard to carry.

People ask if I believe in God and the verb is tedious to me. Not wrong, not offensive, not intrusive, not embarrassing. Tedious. Today I saw a hawk land on Elizabeth’s chimney. It sat with its bone frown and banker’s breast above the proud houses of Hamden. Are you with me? Then see, too, a lump of animate ash rising from the flue (or so it seems) to be a pigeon fluttering dumbly down next to that implacable raptor, suddening a world of strange relations wherein there is no need for fear, or far, or meat.

There was a man made of airplane parts, one of which was always missing. He wandered the hospital grounds in search of a rudder, an aileron, or some other fragment that would let him fly from this place where he was not meant to be. There was a woman who emitted invective ceaselessly, dispassionately, an obscenity machine. One timid gentleman saved Saran wrap for five full years and every night wrought an ever-more-solid ball with which, it turned out, he planned to bash the skull of the first soul he saw the dawn God blessed his weapon. (A success story, alas.) Another man with anvil hands sat six months of nights in faith that there would come occasion of darkness, unguardedness, and vision sufficient to rip from its socket one of my father’s bright blue eyes. (Ditto.) My father moved among them like a father. He attended and pacified, he instructed and consoled. Late to the trade, he worked too much, and trusted his heart, no doubt, more than he should, but was, by all accounts, at this one thing, and despite the end, good.

For love read faith into these lines that so obviously lack it. For love let words turn to life in the way life turns to world under the observer’s eye, the swirl of particles with their waves and entanglements, their chance and havoc, resolving into some one thing: a raptor on a rooftop, say. No power on earth can make it stay. But is it lost or released into formlessness when we look away?

To be is to believe that the man or woman who inscribed with an idiosyncratic but demanding calligraphy Fuck da money — Trust no one on the rough blanket of the residential motel where my father spent the last two years of his rough residential life intended the note of defiant, self-conscious (da!) humor that left my father, whom I had not seen in years, and I, whom years had seen grow sere, far even from myself, erupting in laughter until we cried.

Before my good friend’s good dog died ten times a day she pressed her forehead to his “to confirm the world and her place in it.” Now she won’t even say his name. Strange how the things that burn worst in one heart one must keep silent to keep.

Ten to one you thought of men. The murderers, I mean. But no. This is a true story. There is another cell, you see, in which a woman I have known since childhood, and since childhood have known to be suspended on a wire of time but nimble-witted nonetheless, lies on the cold stone floor. She is even more naked than they have made her. She has killed no one not even herself. Punishment, perhaps, or some contagion of fate, finds her here, her hair shorn, both wrists wrapped, her eyes open, pondering the parable of perfect silence.

Remember, he said, memory is a poor man’s prison. Make to have and to love one live infinitive, then blessed my brow with the sign of the cross. I woke without a chance to ask the obvious: But what if all our songs are songs of loss?

I felt nothing when you died, Father. (As if I ever called you that.) It is a long cold seep, this grief. The day itself was hot enough to make the devil sweat, as more than one person, with less than one mind, muttered to me. What I remember: two children, too tan and “clad in famine” (Dahlberg), look up from their parched front yard, their sad little sprinkler like a flower of hell. I don’t mean I saw them, though I did. I mean they are what I remember, fleshed. That town. A hint of new prison business, and the Square’s been rewhitened, but mostly it’s beastly, a blast site, our old house less house than nest, and even the undertaker, a friend from high school, has graduated to heroin. You would have been right at home, and I guess in a ghoulish way you were, overdressed, overdosed, over. Hard wind at the graveside. Hard lives hardly there. The canopy whipped and flapped. A bouquet skipped over the graves like a strange elation. Something stuck, and an ageless Indian (he might have been Mom’s long-dead granddad) nimbled over the casket’s contraptions to make it go. You go into the ground again, and the silence assaults like heat, and the clumps of would-be grievers unclump and head for cars, and Mom cracks a tallboy and two jokes before we’re on the highway. The first I forget, and of the second I recall only a nakedness, and wild crying, and a rat.

When the doctor said I’d likely die I thought of my father telling me he’d learned to read a cancer look, that some people had it before they had it, so to speak. When the young guard demanded to unwrap the Snickers I’d bought for my sister my father scoffed: “All this energy expended on candy when you could take this can” — he held her Coke up in front of our eyes — “and cut a throat.” When my sister, chewing her chocolate with ravenous indifference, paused and stared balefully off at the even more baleful brown beyond the barbed wire, it did not occur to me that it was inspiration. When I began writing these lines it was not, to be sure, inspiration but desperation, to be alive, to believe again in the love of God. The love of God is not a thing one comprehends but that by which — and only by which — one is comprehended. It is like the child’s time of pre-reflective being, and like that time, we learn it by its lack. Flashes and fragments, flashes and fragments, these images are not facets of some unknowable whole but entire existences in themselves, like worlds that under God’s gaze shear and shear and, impossibly, are: untouching, entangled, sustained, free. If all love demands imagination, all love demands withdrawal. We must create the life creating us, and must allow that life to be —  and to be beyond, perhaps, whatever we might imagine. I, too, am more (and less) than anything I imagine myself to be. “To know this,” says Simone Weil, “is forgiveness.”

It is an air you enter, not an act you make. It is the will’s frustration, and is the will’s fruition. It is to wade a blaze one night that I once crossed — a young man, and lost —  to find a woman made of weather sweeping the street in front of her shack. It is another country. It is a language I don’t know. La por allá, la por allá, I repeat in my sleep. The over there.

Tired of the mind reaching back in the past for rescue I praise the day my father woke in the motel room where all five of us were sleeping, which is not even past but a flame as I say it, and see it, the little lighter now he is using to find his clothes. I who have not slept in forty-five years am awake for the first time rising carefully out of my pallet on the floor and feeling my way beyond the bodies of my brother and sister toward the shade that is my father to stand in this implausible light where to whisper would be too much, and anyway what’s next is known, Dad, and near, the nowhere diner, hot chocolate and the funny pages, and the consolation that comes when there is nothing to console.

#poetry #christian wiman #the parable of perfect silence

[gnj9ata]

Life check point - I can't seem to go to sleep so I decided to redownload Tumblr and do a life check point of my life up to this point for preservation sake I guess. I had a thought of doing that with little videos and posting them to my YouTube channel. It's funny because I read old Tumblr messages on here and try to figure out my state of mind at that time to no avail.

So what is going on in life...

After all of these years, I am doing bumpers for the MCA again or should I call it The Chat Attack now. It's not mines anymore. It stop being that 6 years ago. He did ask me to come back on the show. I declined. I know me and my head. I would just try to recreate something that isn't there anymore. Same reason I keep watching the old bumpers and shows. I tell myself it's for inspiration or getting new ideas for the new bumpers, but it's me reliving the "glory" days. When I had a group of people listening to me. When I had power or control over something bigger than myself. If I am being honest, it feels good knowing I was "Top dog" at one point in time. That I got my idol at one point Korey Coleman to say "Attack the chat" once on a video, even though if I had the opportunity to talk to him about that, he probably wouldn't remember. It was something out of my head...that became real. That's powerful to me and I really want to do it again.

Ms gay is gone. Died from stomach cancer. Her mom had to stay with us for 4 months while Ms Gaye's sister was buying a house. She just moved out a month ago. Interesting experience. It took for her to die for me to know her name was first name was Carol.

Miranda is still missing...I miss her a lot. I told trey. I would have married her. And that is still true I feel. When I get the resources, I am going to find you.

And dan

Dan is still missing....

Find meech as well.

Jett seems happy with Nick. I'm happy for them both. They both deserve that. Had rough lives. It's nice they can finally get something out of it. Not sure if I will ever get married or what not and do that whole children thing. Only time will tell I guess. I could be reading this ten years from now and have all of these things. We will see.

I am kind of just kinda "meh" on the whole thing at the moment. Dating isn't even my main focus.

I work for pottery barn at the moment. Retail support agent. I answer emails all day. Easy ass job. I legit could just sit there for hours and occasionally do work. Sometimes I read a book or just watch YouTube videos. I am know as the "hype man" in the teams room. If I am being honest, it gives me similar feels to what I had with the MCA. People actually look for me and wonder where I am at. It feels nice to feel wanted or when people like to just be in your presence. But is it real? Just like the love I had with the MCA? Does it have an expiration date?

Because I know I will be curious later...

The book is Sophia's World: A history on philosophy. Good stuff so far. Recommend by ruthless. Yeah....still talking to him. He doesn't respect me like he use too. Doing thumbnails for his YouTube or at least I think I am. I haven't gotten work to do on it in a few weeks. We will see if that last.

I do thumbnails for Josh's The Afternoon Tune. Still going strong. Gave me free range on the thumbnails. I'm proud of him. Although everytime I look at the YouTube page, I see MCA DNA. Still friends with the group....we legit been through think and thin together so I think at this point, our relationship as friends...hell as family at this point is soild. I really hope they all respect me, but aren't these the same thoughts I had last time? Before I burned everything to the ground so what do I know? We are all meeting up for the first time as a group in March. Meeting up in New York. I hope everything goes well.

Regardless I know for a fact I have Fernando and Soberna in my corner. I still talk to them. The only folks from staples at this point. Although the Halloween party, I did get to see Angela, josh and Jermaine. That was fucking cool. I am really happy for Jermaine and his husband. Had no idea the dude was gay, but happy for him regardless.

Devon is still Devon.... maybe worst...or maybe our relationship is just really bad. It's almost like resentment now. I don't even like talking to him now. It's like I have already mourned the lost of my brother and he is still here. I am not even sure how to approach this situation at all. Recently had a conversation with mom about how I am frustrated that he gets to give up, but I can't. Even if I had the opportunity to do so, my mind wouldn't let me. I know I would regret all that wasted time. I have stuff I want to do with my life. And I can't stop until those are accomplished. And even then....lol

Anything else?

I am very annoyed in myself that I have forgotten alot of stuff I use to know. After effects, driving, pass books or let's plays I have watched. What was the last let's play I watched?

Can't remember. (Could probably check the YouTube history if I cared enough)

Still working with my therapist on mindpath. Although I am thinking of just cutting it off. I think I May have reached the point of what she can help with. I think this is one of those roads I probably have to finish alone. I have changed my sessions from every two weeks to every three weeks.

I still care about what my mom, my friends, my coworkers.....other people think about me. I still care and haven't learned my lesson yet. What is it going to take for me to finally stop caring? What is it going to take? The improvement junkie stuff is starting to get annoying to. I can't even relax on my off day and using time to think about how to get better at after effects or improve my memory or get better at mental math. I am going through timeline order of the marvel movies at the moment which is alot more fun than I thought. Trying to get back into gaming more with my steam deck. I love that thing.

It's 6 am and I have yet to get any sleep. And I am suppose to be driving to see Fernando and Soberna today. I need sleep....