#Today he can stab some people. As a treat

[eissaphir]

One of the things that I hate most about Rotti (besides the obvious) is how he refuses to take responsibility. Sure, he boasts about how awesome he is and that he saved the world, but when there's actually something negative?

He always calls his children disgusting (which, wow) and not worthy of his genes. And yeah, I think it's safe to say they're pretty fucked up. But maybe think about why that is, buddy? Remind me again of who raised (or didn't raise) them? He complains about how Amber only "takes, takes, takes", and sure, not good, but have you ever considered that that's a result of her upbringing? No, not everything can be blamed on how they were raised and I definitely don't want to excuse any of their actions, but he doesn't get to deny his involvement and the impact he had on them.

TL;DR: Fuck Rotti.

[boypied]

pairings: ghostface!mickey altieri x male reader

request: mickey altieri fucking his petite bubble boyfriend in his ghost face costume and the reader gets turned on by the knife.

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, roleplay, knife play.

You run up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door shut. Ghostface was after you, knife and everything. He wasn't going to back down until you were dead, he banged against the door, you let out a scream. You get down on the floor as he barges in, you're half under the bed your back arched. Ghostface grabs you from under the bed and throws you against the bed causing you to bounce slightly, he pulls the mask off with a concerning look on his face "I'm not scaring you right?" He asks worriedly, you pull yourself out of the victim trance "Mickey, you literally killed two people today" I say to him dumbfounded.

He rolls his eyes pulling the mask back on, you nod your head to him wanting him to continue. You begin breathing heavily as he stands above you, "Please don't kill me!" You beg to the killer above you, he just turns his head to the side as he looks down at you. Ghostface Mickey tears your shirt off revealing your bare body to him as he begins to trace the knife across your skin gently grazing it "oh Mr Ghostface please don't hurt me" you beg which causes Mickey to let out a laugh as he pulls his mask back off again, "You sound like a bad porno" he says which causes you to laugh. You roll your eyes as Mickey pulls his mask back on "Just go along with it.!" You beg to him as he leans down to tear your shorts off revealing your jockstrap, he traces the knife over your pretty pink hole.

You whimper as you feel the cold steel of the knife trace against your tight pucker, you can hear Mickey's breathing pick up and the bulge against the ghostface gown grows, Mickey stabs the knife down in the mattress next to you pulling up his gown to reveal his pre-cum leaking throbbing cock. It's been a hot minute since you and Mickey last fucked, he's been busy trying to kill your 'friend' Sidney. Your hole gets coated in his pre-cum as he gently pushes his tip against your hole, the slick wetness of the pre-cum causes him to easily slip inside you without a warning which causes you to gasp out, you stare up at the Ghostface mask above you causing you to bite your lip.

He bucks his hips into you, throwing his head back as your hole tightens around him still getting use to his size since it's been a while. Mickey leans his head down, the mask and your face inches from eachother, he pulls your legs up to widen your hole making it easier for him to hit your sweet spot causing you to let out sultry moans which makes him want to fuck you harder and faster, "fuck me Mr Ghostface!" You whimper out. Your hands shoot down to grip your balls and jerk your cock off, wanting this feeling of pleasure to last for eternity. Mickey picks the knife back up and gently traces it across your neck, he turns his head like a Psycho killer.

You've always found this side of Mickey attractive, even though he is probably clinically insane atleast he treats you right and can make you cum like no man has ever before him. He traces the knife down your chest gently moving it over your erect nipples, causing pleasure to shoot up and down your body as the cold steel grazes your nipples. You can't exactly see it but you know that Mickey has a huge smirk under the mask he loves how horny and whore-y you get when he fucks you like this, especially when there is a knife involved.

He grips your hip with one hand and grazes the knife across your skin with the other. You bite your lip to hold back from screaming, with each thrust Mickey hit your sweet spot and with each jerk of your cock you edged yourself closer and closer to reaching the climax you've been dying for. With one more thrusts against your sweet spot, a jerk of your cock and a drag of metal steel against your chest you shot your load. Your ropes off cum hits your chest and some of it reaches as far as your face. Mickey let's out a gasp under the gasp as you tighten your hole around his cock causing him to shoot his load inside of you "FUCK!" He shouts through the mask as his cum fills you up.

He pumps himself into your boy-pussy a couple more times before he pulls out of your hole with a pop, laying down on the bed next to you. He pulls the mask off, breathing heavily before he pulls himself up "I gotta go kill Cici" he mumbles to you while kissing your lips and licking up some of the cum on your face

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318

[okaysonny]

Hello, can we get a sweet, tooth aching, whipped, fluff goo with chubby reader, where goo is supporting/comforting reader bcs they being insecure abt their looks? Feel free to ignore this if u feel uncomfyyy, thank u sm🫶🏻💞

for the love of cake (and you) ╏ goo kim

ᯓ★ summary: a sweet treat never hurt anyone.

ᯓ★ details: fluff, f! reader, spoiler free.

ᯓ★ wc: 540

ᯓ★ A/N: pretty short. sorry anon, this is probably less sentimental than what you wanted 😭 that is beyond my level of capabilities...+ i didn't address reader's insecurities directly, but it's implied. still, i hope you like it!

you hear goo’s obnoxiously loud humming from down the hall, getting closer with every step. as always, he enters the room like it’s a broadway stage, presenting an elaborate box in one hand.

“voila!” he announces, popping the lid off with a flourish. inside sits the most mouth-watering cake you’ve ever seen: three layers of chocolate, whipped cream, and enough frosting to put anyone in a sugar coma. “a masterpiece for your majesty! go ahead, thank me for putting some brightness in your life”

you blink at the cake, your stomach growling despite your resolve. “uh…i’m good. thanks though”

goo blinks, caught off guard. "what do you mean?!" he pouts.

“i mean i’m not hungry!” you say quickly, waving your hands dismissively.

his lips quirk into a sly grin as he sets the box down. “not hungry?” he repeats, voice dripping with disbelief. “or… are we talking that kind of 'not hungry'? y'know, when you’re suddenly thinking about carbs and calories and—”

“no!” you cut him off, the denial coming out way too loud. “that’s not it. i just…don’t want cake right now. is that illegal?”

goo's grin turns devilish. “so, if i hand you this fork…” he holds it out dramatically. “...you’re not gonna grab it, shovel cake into your mouth, and cry happy tears?”

your face burns. “that’s not gonna happen, because i don't want it!”

he hums, tilting his head in exaggerated thought. “so, you’re telling me this has nothing to do with you trying to diet—”

“of course not!” you snap, snatching the fork from him, purely out of spite. “you’re insane goo. stop analysing everything!”

his smirk widens as you stab at the cake, cutting off a small piece and taking an aggressive bite. the sweetness hits you immediately, rich and creamy, and you have to fight the smile threatening to break through. goo, of course, notices.

“there she is” he drawls, leaning against the counter, clearly a little too smug. “see? you can thank me now. or later, when you finish the whole thing”

you glare at him through a mouthful of cake, trying to swallow before snapping back, but he beats you to it.

“oh, and by the way...” he adds casually, wiping his glasses. “...dieting is for people who actually need it. trust me, you’re not on that list”

he swipes a bit of frosting with his finger and pops it into his mouth. “so stop being weird and eat, before i finish this for you”

your chewing slows, eyes narrowing. “was that… a compliment?”

“dunno. was it?” he quips, winking before heading out the door. “either way, cake tastes better when you’re smiling. don’t forget it!”

you stare after him, stunned for a moment. you roll your eyes and scoop up another bite of cake, a small smile creeping up despite yourself.

as the door clicks shut behind him, the words replay in in his head. cake tastes better when you're smiling. don't forget it! his brow twitches, and he scowls at himself.

“fuck…that’s so corny”

but as he rounds the corner, his grin reappears. he can allow it for today, if it meant you didn’t feel like… whatever it was you were feeling before.

not that he’d ever admit it.

divider: @strangergraphics

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

It's kind of disheartening to me how the common fanon portrayal of Xander and David's dynamic is usually boiled down to Xander being a 'simp' (for lack of a better word) with a one-sided adoration and idolization of David. Especially after the latter's heel turn in CH2-11. And I say that because one of the most important facets of their dynamic to me is the fact that David also very much idolizes Xander just as much, if not more then Xander idolizes him. David believes the world cannot change, we know this. But I think an aspect of his philosophy that I think goes severely overlooked is just how badly he wants to not believe that. He wants to believe that the world can change, and more specifically, that people can change. This aspect of himself can be seen in many parts of his character. I'll most likely touch on this in a later post, but it's most likely part of why he devised his plan to share the secrets. It's very likely the reason he became a motivational speaker, and it plays a massive part in his two closest relationships during the killing game, Arei and Xander. But today, we're talking about Xander. David looks up to Xander. Incredibly so. Xander is everything that he wants to be.

David: You wanted to make Nico feel comfortable, even though you wouldn't necessarily get anything out of it.

Someone who is unconditionally kind to others with no ulterior deceitful motive, just for the sake of being kind to others.

David: You're always full of energy and bravery to achieve your goals, no matter what they are. Yet at the same time, you're a compassionate person who takes the time to help others.

Someone who strives for hope and change, and will never back down until he has it.

David: I have trouble believing that Xander would be the kind of person to commit murder.

An unquestionable Good Person.

That is why he pushes back so hard when Teruko accuses Xander of attempting to kill her. He refused to acknowledge the possibility that Xander, for all of his good qualities, might've been a much more deceitful person than he was letting on.

Because quite frankly, even though the two of them agreed to treat each other to treat each other less as role models and more as friends, if you ask me: I don't think David ever stopped seeing Xander as his role model. I mean, why would he? Like I said before, Xander is everything David wants to be, everything David so badly wishes he could be but has it etched into his brain that he is incapable of such. Xander is a light in his dark chasm of cynicism, a glimmer of hope. That maybe, just maybe...

Xander: Enough with these idols or role models, okay? Let's just be friends. David: I... David: I'd love that. Thank you.

Things could change.

Teruko: Earlier at lunch, Xander had asked for me to meet him in the computer lab, claiming that he wanted to tell me about some plan he had to confront the mastermind. Teruko: We both met up there after dinner, where he tried to murder me instead by stabbing me with the kitchen knife. David: Xander tried to kill you? I find that hard to believe.

And then the light starts flickering. I've mentioned it before in this post, but one of David's biggest flaws in his mindset is that it causes him to view people, including himself, in a nuance-less binary lens of black and white.

David: People who are born lazy, useless and stupid will stay that way until they die. If you were able to "improve" yourself into a better person, then it only means you were a better person to begin with.

You are either a good person, or a lazy, useless, stupid piece of shit. In simpler terms, you are either born a good person or you are born a bad person, and whichever you are born with will become your identity until the day you are in a casket. That is what David believes. Up until now, Xander was strictly placed into the slot of "good person". Not just that, but practically the opposite of what David deems as a "lazy, useless, and stupid" person. He himself has described Xander as someone who is full of energy and will do anything to achieve his goals, someone who takes the time to help others, and a compassionate and generally emotionally intelligent person. That is who Xander Matthews is to David. But now that he is being given evidence of a more potentially malicious side to Xander, the pitfalls of a firm black-and-white mindset rear their head and repeatedly bludgeon David in his own.

David: It's possible that those bloodstains are Xander's, not yours.

(he's reaching so fucking hard here and he fucking knows it, god I hate him. /pos)

David: Are you saying that Xander is a killer? I find that difficult to believe.

Teruko: -But I believe that the origin of the DVD is not from the culprit, but rather, from that person (SELECT: Xander) Teruko: It was most likely Xander. David: Xander... He planned something that manipulative?

David's monochrome mentality (Riproducer reference completely intended) makes it so that he cannot even fathom the idea that Xander, someone he previously marked off as not just a good person but the good person, is even capable of hurting someone, of being cruel enough to intentionally trigger someone just for his murder plan, to murder someone in general. If his feelings towards Min are anything to go by...

David: Something as horrible as this murder, as horrible as this class trial-- David: How dare you! You killed Xander, and you were perfectly willing to kill everyone else here to escape!

David: At that time, watching Min, I kept thinking... David: ... David: How utterly pathetic she was!

That would certainly bring Xander to the category of lazy, useless, stupid bastards. But David has already put Xander into the category of a "good person". So what else is he meant to do other than defend and deflect anything suggesting otherwise? David doesn't want to believe that that glimmer of hope that Xander gave him was just a lie, that hope that things could change, that he could change. So he defends it. He clings to it. He doesn't want to let go. But here's the funny thing about David. Despite his black-and-white mindset, despite the fact that he does believe good people exist, he will always be, first and foremost: A cynical bitch. Point being: I think David, deep down, knew full well that Teruko was most likely telling the truth. Like, I joked about it earlier, but do you really think he believed the lack-luster argument that completely ignored evidence that he could gleam by just looking at the crime scene? I think he was just reaching for anything at that point to try and prove himself wrong. But it's no use, the light continues to flicker. David's denial of Xander's cruelty is quiet to none, but it's clear he is still clinging desperately onto the positive image of Xander he used to have, seeing as he does not show nearly as much animosity (verbally anyway) towards Xander then he does towards Min, despite the fact that Xander also seemed more than willing to kill the rest of the class to escape. It's breaking. But after Min's execution, it's clear that it all hits him at once.

David: I... I've seen enough. There's no point in keeping my hopes up anymore. David: We are all certainly going to die here.

David Chiem left the courtroom that day with his hopes snuffed out, nothing left within him other than the cruel reminder of something he already knew:

If something is important, then

It'll break and disappear.

[ficmashup]

Caretaker

A/N: I should probably put summaries on these, but I'm terrible at brevity. Clearly. But wow some people actually like this and I'm blushing and kicking my feet. :) Thanks for interacting! Sorry this one is a bit more team-based than Price-based, but honestly the way to that man's heart is through his men. He's such a dad and I love him for it.

Warnings: Vague SA references or similar trauma, stabbing, harsh language, f!reader, talk of being shot, wound care.

Word Count: 3.8k

Feral Masterlist

What really puts the team and I’s tenuous connection to the test is when Soap gets stabbed.

We’re two months in. I’m just a soldier and medic today, on the ground with the rest of the group as we clear a warehouse storing some enemy supplies that we’re…appropriating. My focus is razor sharp, easily directing my hyperactive fight or flight instinct into looking around every corner and keeping a sharp ear out for any noise. Soap and Ghost are on the other side of the building doing the same, Price pulling up the rear.

Gaz and I both hear the scuffle and stop in our tracks before Ghost’s voice comes over coms. “Soap’s hit. Eastern corner.” We start moving immediately and I slide my gun wrapped around my body to my back as we reach them, the boys already forming a circle around Soap as they watch his back. I’m on my knees at his side the second I reach him, my hand pushing down hard on his thigh as I take in the handle sticking out just above his hip.

His body is held taut and his jaw is locked, clearly trying to stay quiet and still. “Alright, Soap, I’ve got you.” I murmur while Price gives orders to the boys. Gaz and him split up, more than likely going to clear the rest of the building while Ghost stays in the shadows next to me to watch our backs.

Soap grunts. “Good to know, G.”

I guide his hand to my knee and press it there so he can squeeze when the pain gets too bad. It helps my patient and gives me a good indicator of their pain levels. My fingers are ginger as I rip his shirt a bit more, moving it and his tac vest up enough to see the wound. “Didn’t hit anything vital, you lucky bastard. I can patch you up here, then treat this properly at camp.” I’m already doing it as I tell him, my med-kit open on the concrete floor beside me. I gather two pills in my hand and reach up, tilting his chin to look at me. “Swallow.” His eyes widen a touch and he lets me slip the pills past his lips before his throat flexes as he swallows. “Good. Those will kick in and take away some of the pain on the walk back, but I can’t wait until then. So, I need you hold onto me because this’ll hurt like a bitch.”

I hold his gaze, making sure he knows I mean it and he nods. With gauze packed around the blade, I yank it out without hesitation and Soap chokes. “Fuck.” He curses and his fists clench, his fingers digging into my thigh while I move quickly to staunch the blood flow. Price and Gaz return, nodding to Ghost to give the all clear. The warehouse is empty except for us.

“And here I was thinking Scots were more creative with their cursing.” I goad him a bit to distract him and he huffs a laugh.

“If you wanted me to teach you curses, lass, you should have asked.”

“Think I just did. You going to disappoint a girl?”

Another dry chuckle leaves him and I glance at his face to see a crooked smile despite the pain. “Ah, well, awa’ n bile yer heid is Ghost’s favorite. Means go fuck yourself.” The aforementioned soldier grumbles as he slides through the shadows to settle a few feet from Soap’s head.

“Shouldn’t have gotten him started. Now he won’t shut up.” Gaz comments good-naturedly from my left, he and Price watching as I work. That’s exactly my plan. If Soap’s talking, he’s not thinking about the pain.

“Definitely seems like Ghost’s favorite. Does he hear it often?” I’m nearly done now as I make sure the bandages are as tight as I can safely make them while holding Soap’s gaze again, drawing his attention with a direct look.

He takes a sharp breath, but grins through the pain. “Often enough, eh, LT?” He teases while glancing towards the Lieutenant.

Ghost doesn’t budge from where he watches us. “Couldn’t say. I only pay attention when you speak English.” Soap chuckles at that before I rest a hand on his shoulder and glance at Ghost, tilting my head to his other side. He moves there instantly while I look into Johnny’s eyes again.

“Time to get up. Lean on us and remember that the meds will kick in. Just keep moving for me, yeah?” My voice is calm and firm. I ease him up into a sitting position while he grimaces, but nods. Ghost and I share a look as we move simultaneously to get Soap up onto his feet. He groans and I brace a hand against his bindings to make sure they hold fast. As soon as I meet Price’s eyes, he nods and we start moving out.

Gaz moves towards me to take Soap, but I give him a sharp look. I’m the medic, the sick and injured are my responsibility. I keep Soap’s arm around my shoulders and push ahead with Ghost on his other side. The whole time I keep him talking quietly, distracting him and verbally poking him to keep his mind occupied. A single mention of his favorite football team sends him on a rant for five minutes straight and I don’t think I mistake seeing Ghost’s mask twitch as he smiles.

Gaz and Price are quiet as we make slow progress forward, letting me do my work, but I feel their eyes on us every now and then. Especially on me. Things go a bit easier when the pain pills I gave him kick in and Soap is practically back to himself by the time we get back to camp. Ghost helps me lay him down while everyone else packs up. We were planning to leave tomorrow, but tonight serves just as well.

Gingerly, I help Soap out of his tac vest and shirt before taking a proper look at the wound. “How’s the pain, soldier?” I set his hand on my knee again as I check to see how much blood has seeped into the gauze.

“Three. Barely twinges.” He responds and I give him a critical look as his grip on my leg tightens just a touch as I check my work. But I don’t call him out on it.

“It’s not too bad.” I tell him honestly as I remove the bandages, taking special care to clean the wound this time even as Soap winces. “As long as it’s kept clean and the dressing changed often, you’ll heal in no time. Hope you don’t mind my company because you’ll be seeing a lot of me for a while.”

He shakes his head, a little smile on his face. “Wouldn’t mind it a bit, G, but I can look after myself.”

“Not a chance.” My voice is firm and I make sure to stare into his eyes, placing a hand with blood smeared over my fingers on his shoulder. “That might’ve been how you did it before, but I’m your medic now. No one touches these bandages other than me. Especially not you. Understood, soldier?”

He swallows, then his smile grows as he gives me a nod. “Yes, ma’am.” I nod in return and finish wrapping the wound again while his eyelids droop. “Thanks, lass.” My hand lightly pats his shoulder before I lay his shirt over his chest while I stand.

“Sleep. Move a muscle and I’ll have you strapped to the inside of the car.” He hums his acknowledgement while I stand up and walk over to the men lingering around the back of our jeep. “He’ll be fine. It’s not too deep and didn’t hit anything that’ll cause problems later. We can move out whenever we’re ready.”

Price nods. “Let’s head out then. The sooner, the better.” He receives a chorus of acceptance from me and the others. I’m quick to pack up and slide my bag in the back along with the others before we get Soap in the jeep. Price drives, Ghost sits in the passenger seat, then Gaz and Soap sit on either side of me in the back.

“How are we doing, Soap?” I ask softly as we drive across the landscape, not exactly keeping to roads and worn paths.

He grunts with a hand braced against the wound. “Really enjoying the bumps, Cap.”

“We’ll reach a road in a few minutes. Stick it out, Johnny.” Price responds and Soap curses as he hits a particularly deep crater. My hand moves Soap’s to my knee again, holding it there as a touchstone. I’d rather not give him any more pain pills to avoid him getting drowsy, but I don’t want him incapacitated with pain. Keeping his hand there will help me know if he can handle it.

“This can’t be the worst you’ve had, Soap.” I poke a bit of fun at him and he half-smiles, scoffing.

“Not a chance. Being shot in the leg was a fucking bitch.” He shakes his head before leaning it back against the headrest. His eyes slide to mine. “What about you, G? What’s your worst?” I blink, hesitating as I consider the question. Price hits another bump and Soap hisses while Gaz tries to hide a chuckle as a cough. “You fuckin’ aiming for them, Cap?” His accent gets a bit thicker and I glance up at the rearview mirror to find Price’s eyes already on me. I shake my head slightly. Soap’s question is fine.

“Depends on what you consider worst. The most painful or the one that left me the most fucked up?” I offer and interest flashes in Soap’s eyes. I’ve got him distracted, at least. “I got shot in the left shoulder, then had to fend off an assailant in hand to hand. Worked the bullet deeper into my muscle since it wasn’t clean through. Took forever to heal and it’s a miracle I still have full movement. Couldn’t raise my arm above my shoulder for months.” The men nod or grimace, understanding and easily relating.

“Thought I was going to go stir crazy every time I’ve been put on bed rest.” Soap grumbles and I don’t bother telling him that he’s going to be on bed rest as soon as we get back to base.

“That’s because you can’t stay still for five minutes.” Gaz teases and Soap gives him a grin and a half-shrug to say he’s not wrong.

“Drives most medics crazy. Hope you’re up for it, G.” Ghost comments from the front and I look pointedly towards Soap.

“He’s not going to be difficult for me, are you, Johnny?” I ask expectantly and he shakes his head immediately. The men chuckle while I glance at Price in the mirror and fight a smile of my own. There’s a new edge in his eyes, a soft one, and I find that I like seeing it there.

Gaz shifts in place, a grin on his face as he stares at Soap. “You’ve already got him purring like a cat, G. What were in those pills you gave him?”

“Shut it, Gaz. You heard her threaten that guy in the bar. I’m trying to keep my balls where they are.” The car rumbles with laughter again, mine included, although it’s too quiet for anyone else to hear. We finally reach a dirt road and the ride becomes a fraction easier. Soap eventually falls asleep while I watch over him, my hand still on top of his where it sits on my thigh.

*     *     *

After a brief argument when we get on base, I force Soap into the med tent to stay overnight for observation. There’s a nagging feeling in my gut. I wait for him to finish taking a shower after I carefully wrapped the bandages so they wouldn’t get wet. He quirks a brow when he finds me waiting for him and I wave him into bed so I can take a look at the wound one last time before everyone turns in.

“This isn’t my first, you know.” He quips as he lets me check it again.

I give him a placating look. “After so long in the business, you learn to trust your gut. Better to be paranoid and wrong than careless and miss something that kills you.” That shuts him up promptly and my lips press together as I look at the wound. It looks a little red, almost inflamed. I replace the bandages before digging through a cabinet nearby, then come back with a bottle of water and pills. “Antibiotics, just to be safe. If there was something on the blade and it’s infected, then you’ll probably get a fever in the night. It’ll get worse from there depending on the infection.”

He takes the pills and swallows them, blinking at my words before remarking sarcastically, “Great.”

I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here. After I head to my room for a bit, I’ll come back with food and you’ll be stuck with me for the night so I can keep an eye on you.”

Amusement creeps back into his eyes as he sits up a little in bed. “They do have people here whose job it is to stay the night. I know you’re just as worn out as I am after the mission.”

I toss the bed’s blankets up over his legs with a firm look telling him to stay put. “Pretty sure I already told you that the only one touching those bandages is me.”

He hums, his smile widening a bit. “You know, I like this possessive side to you, G.”

“Uh-huh. You’ll like it even more when I zip-tie you to the bed if you don’t do everything I say.” I return sweetly and he swallows as I pat his foot, then head to the door. Surprise flits across my face as I see Price waiting for me and I walk over, stopping beside him and turning to look at Soap just like he is.

“Not being too obstinate, is he?” Price asks and he keeps his voice lower than usual while nurses file in and out of the tent while they take care of their own charges.

I heave a breath, but shake my head. “He’s been a good patient so far, but we both know restlessness settles in a little later.” He nods with the corner of his mouth lifting. I hesitate a moment before leaning a shoulder against the wall behind us and turning my body towards him. “My gut is telling me that it’s infected.”

Price turns towards me as well and his expression turns serious. He’s been in this business longer than me and he strikes me as the kind of man who doesn’t disregard his gut either. “Plan of action?”

My eyes cut to Soap idly tying knots with a lace pulled free from one of his boots. “I’m leaving him to have some time alone. We won’t know whether I’m right or not until late into the night, anyway. I’ll come back in an hour or two and keep an eye on him.”

He nods, pressing his lips together before he looks at me. “Alright. Keep me updated if he takes a turn for the worse. And don’t neglect yourself either.” Price gives me a pointed look that I respond to with a small smile. It’s getting a little easier to give those out, recently.

“Understood, Captain. I plan on spending an hour in the shower.” I get him to smile too as I salute him playfully, then head out to my room.

*     *     *

I keep my promise. Well, mostly. I spend a long time in the shower, then change into a tank-top and comfortable pants. My skin is still hot from my shower and I cool off a bit as I walk to the mess hall and get some food as promised before heading back to the med-tents. Soap shoves every morsel of food I give to him into his mouth and I shake my head while eating my own a tad slower. He crashes soon after and I take the time to set everything I might need on the small table next to the bed.

After that, the only thing to do is wait. I curl up in the chair next to him and get as comfortable as I can in the uncomfortable chair. There are one or two other nurses that mill around, but otherwise it’s quiet. Eventually, I find myself falling asleep. I’ve slept in worse places in my military career. I’m still on the cusp of sleep when I feel something settling over me. My eyes flash open and I look up in an instant to see the culprit. His hands freeze and his eyes widen as I find Ghost draping his jacket over me.

I sigh in relief and relax back into the chair, my eyes shutting a moment as my heart thunders in my chest. “Ghost.” I greet him with a scratchy voice before looking towards Soap and moving to get up. “Everything okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder to hold me in place.

“Everything’s fine. Just came to check on the stubborn bastard to make sure he wasn’t causin’ too much trouble.” He says quietly, his voice gruff and low. “Didn’t expect you to be here, G.”

I relax back into my chair with his jacket tucked snug around me. “I’m here for the duration. Just to make sure everything goes okay.”

His brows furrow. His usual skull mask is gone to leave only the black fabric he wears under it. It’s nice seeing more of his face even if the skin around his eyes is still painted black. “You expectin’ something to go wrong?”

I shrug a shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. A gut feeling.” My lips purse as I look at Soap, slack-jawed and snoring softly. “It could be infected. Or I could be paranoid.” I sigh again as I lean my head back against the chair and Ghost’s mask twitches.

“Either way, thanks for looking out for him.” Ghost crosses his arms and leans a hip against the end of Soap’s bed.

I raise a brow at him. “It’s my job.”

“No.” Ghost shakes his head, eyes crinkling just a touch as I think he smiles again. “This is going above and beyond your job, G. And I’m grateful. So’s everyone else on the team.” I blink as I take in the compliment and his jacket tucked around me. It’s sweet. Terribly sweet.

“I’m glad to do it, Ghost. You all have been pretty welcoming and I know I don’t come off the warmest, but I appreciate it.” Discomfort swirls in my chest at admitting it, but he took a risk thanking me. I can return the favor. “You’re my team.” It’s a claim and a promise. I’ll be loyal, dedicated, treat them like family, as long as they’re just as loyal to me.

Ghost nods, seeing this and understanding. He understands more than the others, if I had to guess. “And we’ve got you just as much as you’ve got us, G. Even if it takes a while for you to see that.” I smile as I pull his jacket a bit closer around me. I’m coming around to the idea.

*     *     *

I fall back asleep after Ghost leaves, but not for long.

Soap’s peaceful snores fade and I wake up when I hear a grunt to find him half-sitting up with his blankets tossed off. He gives me a weak smile when he sees my eyes open. “Sorry, lass. Afraid I’m not feeling great.” I lay Ghost’s jacket over the back of my chair and I’m up in an instant. My hands smooth over his cheek, then his forehead.

“Your skin is hot.” I murmur, knowing he has a fever.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Always knew I was hot.” The corner of my mouth lifts as I help him sit up a bit more and take his sweat-soaked shirt off, then wipe away the sheen covering his chest, back, and forehead.

“It’s going to be a rough night for you, Johnny, but the only way through it is straight.” I set the small towel aside before gently pushing him back down to lay on the bed. Next, I grab two other washcloths I have set aside and head over to the sink to soak them before coming back.

“You certainly don’t sugarcoat things, G.” He chuckles as I lay one cold cloth over his bare chest, then fold the other as I pat his face with it before laying it over his forehead.

“You want me to tell you pretty lies?” I ask softly, aware of the few other patients still sleeping around the room.

His head shakes. “Never said I didn’t like it, lass. Think it’s refreshing.” He takes a deep breath and I rub the cool cloth over his chest before wetting it in cool water again and returning it. “Reminds me a little of Ghost.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a little surprise in my voice, but I suppose I was just thinking that Ghost understood me more than the others. “He was here earlier to check on you. Based on what he and Price said, I expected a little more resistance from you.” I reach up and flip the washcloth on his forehead so the cool side is against his skin.

He gives me a crooked grin despite the fever, pain, and exhaustion I’m sure he’s feeling. “I’m a sucker for a gentle touch, lass. And I’m a little bit afraid of you.” I chuckle and his eyes light up a little. “Am I delirious or was that a laugh? Can’t wait to tell Gaz I got you to crack first.”

“It was barely a laugh. Hardly counts.” I tease and his eyelids get a little heavy. “Sleep if you can, Johnny. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

He hums in lieu of a laugh. “Good thing I’m not tryin’ then. In fact, think someone would have to pry you out of the team’s cold, dead hands to get you away from us now.” His eyes fall shut as he speaks and I keep gently dabbing his face with the cold washcloth. I let the words sink into me along with Ghost’s earlier, feeling them tether me to the team and the men that create it. But it doesn’t feel like a weight. It feels like a life preserver, buoying me over the waves I’ve been fighting against for a while now. Finally, I take a breath without worrying about whether I’ll take on water.

“Yeah,” I whisper, resting my hand on the cloth on his chest to feel his heart. “I’m getting pretty fond of you all too.”

Taglist (oh my gosh, hi people! Thanks for wanting to be tagged, I love you. Hope you enjoy. If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas

[lailoken]

I really hate doing this, but earlier today, my puppy Rowland was running outside with his brother when he took a tumble and ended up running straight into an old metal tool of my father-in-law's. The metal caught the flesh on his side in three spots and tore some large and deep gashes in his hide and underlying muscle. Initially, between the blood and the way he was crying and limping, I really thought he had managed to stab himself in the gut, which was a particularly horrifying thought since I was alone in the countryside with no way to get him quick medical help at the time.

After soothing him enough to get a better look at his wounds, I was deeply relieved to see no signs of abdominal perforation, but I was still taken aback by how bad his injuries were and how much he was bleeding. While I waited desperately for my father-in-law to get home and lend me his truck, I gently cleaned Rowland's wounds, and I thank all the gods that I was able to work a successful Blood Stanching charm on him despite the severity of the bleeding. He was already beginning to shiver and drool with nausea, making me think he was starting to go into shock, so I'm not sure how much worse it might have gotten if I hadn't stemmed the flow of bood.

I managed to get him to the vet, where he had to stay for the day being cleaned, treated, and given 15 stitches. He is clearly in a lot of pain and fear, but he should recover fine, which I am beyond grateful for. That being said, though, the veterinary bill was $864 (everything on the itemized invoice below plus an additional $17 for anti-nausea meds that prevent him from throwing up after anesthesia, which could tear his sitches) and while we were able to pull from our savings to pay for this, it's still a rather disheartening financial turn of events. Especially since I've been mostly working free cases the past few weeks, meaning that I've taken in very little money recently. While I trust my spirits to keep our needs met so long as I honor my vows, it would still be nice not to be forced into depleting our life savings.

I held a raffle once to help fundraise for my older dogs who had started a regimen of expensive pain medications at the time, and I am now considering doing this again. Specifically, I am considering raffling off a handmade wooden stave that I'm currently selling for $200. I was thinking that, since this piece is highly unique and fairly expensive, people might want to enter the raffle for $5 a person (using the link I end up providing) and then the winner would be chosen by a random number generator. Whoever won would end up with a $200 Stave of braided thorny Crabapple wood that was harvested from a 120+ year old tree and sealed with a traditional black Hearth Soot stain, for only $5.

Of course, a raffle like this would only be of use if enough people think they would actually consider entering the raffle. After all, if only 20 people entered, I would be selling this $200 piece for $100, which wouldn't help me fund this medical care and would actually lose me money overall. As such, I figured I would make poll to help me gauge the viability of this idea, like I did the last time.

Sorry again to be doing this. I hope you can understand. ♡

[hotdilfs11]

People We Met In Supermarkets pt 1- Damon x Reader

part 2 part 3

✩Jade had some past secrets she's been keeping away from the Salvatores especially Damon. Ever since she met them she only told bits and pieces about herself, and it's so bad that they don't even know that Jades older than them. What secrets are she keeping and will it come out? Who or what is hiding?

✩parings:Girl name Jade x Damon

warnings:mention of stabbing/being casted away

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

As the sun slowly caresses the curtains, a new day appears. I was under the soft, cozy covers, taking in the beautiful, luminating sunshine as it softly touched my icy, cold skin. I started to stretch my limbs gently, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. I lifted myself up, slowly resting my arms on the cotton-white sheet. I looked over to my left to see someone on their back sleeping with no shirt on, and then I realized I was in Damon's bed. His back was toned and firm. He had porcelain-soft skin and raven-colored hair. The color of his hair was deep and intense. It looked very soft and rich the longer I looked at it. I started getting butterflies the longer I observed him. He looked so relaxed and peaceful as the sun bounced gracefully off his face. The gentle rhythm of his breath fell up and down as the sound of his heart beating calmed me. Damon and I aren’t dating; however, he is very flirty with me, and he treats me differently compared to everyone else. When I talk about him to Bonnie or Stefan, they look at me like I’m the crazy one because of how he acts around them, but I never saw that side of him. Damon is nice, loving, tenderhearted, and just an amazing guy for me in general. He reminded me of someone I used to know, but way better. Anyway, the reason I’m waking up beside him is because the night before, he asked me to come in here to talk and hang out. However, we both fell asleep beside each other at the dead of night.

While I was admiring Damon's handsome, sexy, and stunning features, I started to notice a devious smirk start to form on the corner of his mouth. 

“Will you stop staring at me? It's a bit creepy,” he says in a flirtatious yet sleepy voice. My lips curled upward, creating a soft, looming smile across my face as I heard those words spill out of his mouth. My stomach started to turn, and a subtle ruby tint started to form on my cheeks because hearing his voice in the morning is like hearing a sweet, comforting lullaby.

“Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Salvatore?” I say it with a charming yet witty, harsh British accent.

As those words came out of my mouth, his eyes started to flutter open, revealing his arctic blue cat-like eyes glaring at me. "Mmmhh," he mumbled.

I gave him a quick smirk as I jolted out of bed, touching the unheated, bitter floor of the Salvatore house. I stood up in a swift motion and started stretching my arms as a loud grunt escaped from my mouth. I was wearing a jet black tank top and navy blue soft pajama pants. I got out of bed and started walking towards the door. However, I felt a strong pair of eyes scan my body, and as I was turning around, Damon was already behind me, towering over me with a serious face.

“Isn't it too early for vamp powers?” I crossed my arms while I made eye contact with him.

He squinted his eyes at me, looking me up and down. “Where are you going?”

I rolled my eyes and let out a strong exhale. “School Damon gotta live a normal life once in a while."

"You’re one hundred and something years old and immortal, you can take a break and help me with this ritual stuff."

I turned my back on Damon and opened the door to his room, walking right out of it. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t care about any of this?" I walked into my room and started to look through my dressers, trying to

find an outfit for today, however, I heard Damon's footsteps enter my room. He learned on the doorway and crossed his legs as well as his arms.

“But hear me out; you know nothing about this yet, and maybe you can be useful since..." He said it hesitantly.

I looked at him with an irritated look. “Since I’m a witch, you mean?” I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“I mean… Maybe just a little." Damon said. He was trying to be funny, but I wasn’t amused.

I peered away from him, “No Damon” I sternly said.

He held up his hands. "Fine, FINE, have it your way, little blue Jay, but I still have little Bennent.”  he teasingly stated.

I turned my head towards him and said, "Mmhh... Now let me get dressed and put on a shirt, please. No one wants to see that,” I said,turning away from him in a swift motion.

“I’m not sure about that,” he says in a cocky, playful tone.

“Leave Damon” 

Damon left, and I started getting ready for school. I’ve been through this numerous times, and it never gets old. I love living a normal life because, like all of us vampires, we were forced into this life because I know I was. When I was nineteen, I got jumped by a group of men, but one of them decided to brutally stab me. The vampires I was with at the time found me, brought me home, and gave me a life-changing decision. I either die on a table in front of my whole family or become a vampire and get cast away from my coven. I was scared of death and picked the only option. However, if I could go back on it, I would, but then again, there is something good about becoming a vampire, especially this kind of vampire. I’m a heretic, meaning I’m a vampire and a witch at the same time, meaning twice the manpower, but I still miss my family. There aren't that many Bennents anymore. The Bennents I know are Bonnie, Grams, and me. Ever since the mid-eighties, I haven't seen many Bennents, honestly. I’m just grateful for the rest of us.

Anyway, I walked downstairs and into the Salvatore living room, seeing Stefan reading and drinking coffee like an old, seventy-year-old man. I walked down the little steps and went behind the couch.

I say with a smile on my face, “Mornin’ Stefan!”

He looked behind him while I kissed him on the forehead as a greeting. I walked around the couch, plopping down on the firm cushion right next to him. He turned his head towards me in a swift motion as a soft, warm smirk started to stretch across his face.

"Hey, Jade,” he says quietly.

“Are you and Elena going to school today?” I curiously asked.

"Uh, no, today there's too much going on that we need to figure out; maybe you shouldn’t go either,” he said, concerned.

“Stefan I don’t know anything about whatever happened, and I don’t want to know."I demanded 

He started paying attention to his book again. "Yeah, I heard that whole speech upstairs."

I stood up quickly. "See, this is exactly why I don’t like nosey vampires.”

He closed his book and looked up at me. "Well, we would like your help and input on this, Jade. I know you don’t like to know about these things, but this is frustrating in a way."I heard footsteps approaching. “This is exactly what I said, but did she listen to me? No, she did not."

I sighed and thought about it for a second. "Fine, fine. Just tell me because I know you guys never fucking give up; however, only tell me what youre confused on.”

Damon smirked harshly. "Ok, Blue Jay. I’ll tell you what we are stuck on.”

I plopped back on the couch as Damon entered the living room. "Look, Elena stabbed this weird vampire in the heart with a stake, and he did die, but then he came back to life. This girl, Rose, said he’s one of the “originals,” he air-quoted.

I started to harshly frown at those words. I really hope it isn’t who I think it is.

"However, we don’t know if she's telling the truth or not."

I cut him off mid-sentence and anxiously said, "Yes, she’s right...I… I have to go.

The Salvatores frowned at me as I quickly ran out of the room.

[heavenlyhoundoom]

Sams incorrect quotes 6.

1.Lunar: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE! Lunar: aggressively throws water bottles Bloodmoon: Uh… what's up with him? Eclispe: He's trying to yell mental health and wellbeing into us. Lunar: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU! Ruin, crying: It's working.

2.Earth: What state do you live in? Sun: I live in a state of constant anxiety.

3.Eclipse, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Earth: Hey. Ruin: Hi. Lunar: Hello. Moon: Hey! Eclipse: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Bloodmoon: We were out of Doritos.

4.Ruin: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way. Bloodmoon: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?

5.Sun: What's the most efficient way to burn calories? Earth: Exercise more. Bloodmoon: Set yourself on fire! Moon: There are two kinds of people.

6.Moon: Hello Bloodmoon, made anyone cry today? Bloodmoon: Sadly, no. But it’s only 4:30.

7.Ruin: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

8.Eclipse: I'm not doing to well. Earth: What's wrong? Eclipse: I have this headache that comes and goes. Bloodmoon enters the room Eclipse: There it is again.

9.Sun: Is Bloodmoon always like this when they lose? Ruin: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the Great Jenga Tantrum of 2015. Bloodmoon: You bumped that table and you know it!

10.Ruin: If you don't stop talking, I'm going to jump out of that window. Lunar: …We're on the ground floor. Ruin: I know but I want a dramatic exit.

11.Eclipse: holding a salt packet It’s just a little sodium chloride. Moon: Actually Eclipse , it’s salt. Eclipse : That’s what I said, sodium chloride. Moon: Uh Eclipse, that would be salt. Moon: *takes salt packer from Eclipse * This is iodized table salt, which in addition to sodium chloride contains anti-caking agents and potassium iodate, which is added to prevent iodine deficiency. So not only are you being overly pretentious by insisting on using scientific terminology for everyday items, you are factually wrong. Your arrogance is your downfall, you annoying little shit.

12.Lunar: Good morning. Earth: Good morning. Sun: Good morning. Eclipse: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Bloodmoon : MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

13.Bloodmoon : Hey, can I get a sip of that water? Moon: It’s not water. Bloodmoon: Vodka! I like your sty- Moon: It’s vinegar. Bloodmoon: ��What? Moon: It's vinegar, PUSSY.

14.Lunar: Bloodmoon , I am questioning your sanity… Moon: I never questioned it, I knew their sanity was missing from the start.

15.Bloodmoon: You know, studies show that keeping a ladder in the house is more dangerous than a loaded gun. Bloodmoon: That's why I own TEN guns. Bloodmoon: Just in case some maniac tries to sneak in with a ladder.

16.Ruin: Fight me! Bloodmoon, standing behind him and holding a knife: mouths Do not.

17.Bloodmoon: I lost Lunar. Sun: How did you LOSE Lunar?! Bloodmoon: To be fair, he is very small.

18.Eclipse: Everyone synchronise your watches. Lunar: I don't know how to do that. Bloodmoon: I don't wear a watch. Ruin: Time is a construct.

19.Sun: Look guys, I need help. Earth: Love help? Moon: Financial help? Lunar: Emotional help? Bloodmoon: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at Bloodmoon * Bloodmoon: What?

20.Moon: A mouse! Sun, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from, or I'll stab you. Bloodmoon, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal! Earth, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy. Ruin, gasping: It's Ratatouille! Eclipse: His name is Remi, dummy. Moon: …I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window… "What is wrong with you people.

[janus-cadet]

After all the sinners I drew, it was high time I drew an angel. Will Adam even stay one? I don't know- but here he is, as, ironically, the King of Pentacles.

As usual, some explanations for the choice of card under the cut!

Upright, the King of Pentacles is a provider; he uses his ambition and confidence to create wealth for himself, and generates his self-worth from what he has accumulated in his life. He is a winner, you could say, having won the lottery of life and enjoying himselft in the after life. But he also is a guiding figure for those around him, like Adam seems to be for the exorcists under his orders. The King is a confident person: he knows he'll succeed in all he will try to achieve, especially related to his work (which, true, can lead him to be a tad overconfident. Would be a shame if he got stabbed in the chest, then punched into oblivion, then stabbed to death by a filthy janitor). The figure can be approach to King Midas, turning everything he touches into gold- but, careful of what you wish for, as your dream could easily turn into a curse. Either way, he has nothing left to proove: he achieve the highest situation he could have dreamed of, and no longer has to struggle to achieve his desires. Ideally, he should now be enjoying his well-deserved life up in heaven, enjoy all that was accomplished. Even more, the King should remember that he will only remain successful as long as he takes methodical, well-thought-out approach to the matters presenting themselves to him. He should not take anymore risks. Like, really, no. Come on, Adam.

Reversed, the card encourages you to look at the relationship you have with your situation. You may not be treating what you have with respect, or has a winning situation; you might be lacking self-discipline (like, really); or you might be putting all you achieve above anything else, negatively impacting your relationship and well-being. For example, you might let all your life revolve around your work as leader of the exorcist army, and neglect other parts of your life that might bring you actual joy. You are obsessed with you status, dismissing people you dim "below" you, feeling the need to brag about what you accomplished and your own self-worth. At time, the King of Pentacles can also represent someone who is very stubborn and rigid in his approach, and doesn't accept different opinions.

I mean. Hell is forever, right, end of the line.

And that's it for today! Next time, we'll have our dear cannibal Overlord, Rosie. Stay tuned...

[whereserpentswalk]

There was, once in the ancient days, when Rome had conquered the Britians, a faerie prince had left for the day the realms of fae, where all the faeries danced, he left his tree stump palace and his subjects of kobolds and sprits, and his fellow lords of the fae, and he came to the great villas and groves of England and chose to give the ultimate power of unseelie vengeance, to the mortals he'd consider most in need of such things.

And within his quest, he had found two souls more oppressed than most would ever be in their lives, two slaves, who had lived their entire lives mining tin within the mountains. One red haired, one yellow haired, and neither their names recorded by time.

And the faerie came to the two slaves, with moth's wings on his back, and the horns of a great stag, and an armored exoskeleton shining black-green on his body, with fire in his great golden eyes. And he told the two slaves shivering in the cold before him, "Greetings subjects of humanity, have no fear, for I bring today great fortune in exchange for my sweet entertainment. Choose whoever you believe holds the most of gifts deprived from you, and I shall swap your place with them, and you shall live your lives in their luxury and them in your misfortune. and take what time you need to select who stands highest above you, and whose deserves most to be brought down to your place."

After a few moments putting their pickaxes down, thinking about who could be most privileged, and who their greatest oppressor was, the red headed slave suggested, "Well I don't think kindly of the slaves in the gladiator pits now do I! They have it all good, fighting and winning praise down in Rome, while us real slaves up here are working hard for the empire. If we'd swap places with them they'd learn what work really was!"

The faerie, having in all his studies of humanity learned that humans do not like being stabbed, nor chopped into pieces asked, "Our you sure that the slaves in the fighting pits are the most privileged of people you can think of, I'll give you time if you must need it."

The yellow haired slave raised his hand, "The harem slaves! Oh, the harem slaves. They get to live right in the roman's mansions, all prettied up with perfume, all they have to do is lay back and make love. Never had to work a day in their lives!"

The faerie, having in all his studies or humanity known rape to be a crime worse than murder to most, tried to suggest something else; "The romans! Your masters! Yes, you've mentioned them. The people who enslaved you. Consider that perhaps they may factor into any discussion of your oppression, and who stands above you..."

The red haired slave answered, "Well of course! We've worked so hard for the Romans, and because of those slaves more privileged then us, demanding so much in regard to resources and attention, we get treated like dirt. If all slaves were miners and farmers, the Romans would treat us so well."

And the yellow haired slave added, "We keep the empire running. The empire could survive without the fighting pits and harem boys, but they need us for their metals! The Romans should be proud of us! Great Constantine himself, bless his soul, said that hard working men like us would stand with him in heaven..." (That final comment lead into an argument between the yellow haired Catholic and the red headed Arian, as to who was a heretic, and whose hard work would surely be recognized into heaven, the argument being too long and useless to write down here.)

Eventually, the faerie stopped them both, "Have you ever considered what it would be like to not be slaves? I heard that there were some places where slavery doesn't exist at all."

The red headed slave yelled, "Don't you go insulting us slaves, talking about a world without us!"

The yellow haired slave added, "Yes! We're proud and hard working! My father was a slave, and his father, and his father, and his... well his father was a warrior in the army of Boudica, but you get the point don't you."

The faerie said blankly, "I think I do." And, thinking his entertainment was boring him quite a lot, told them, "Just tell me quickly, who you think is more privileged than you, and I'll swap you with them."

And before the yellow haired slave could contradict him, the red headed slave cried out, "The slaves of Alexandria! That city is paved with gold, with pyramids at every street. I've never been there but I've known some slaves who have. Some of the slaves there are even teachers to the roman's children, able to read and write and all that, and its never even winter. Swap us with them, and we'll be the most privileged slaves in the world!"

And so, the faerie did. And so, the red headed slave and the yellow haired slave found themselves in the boiling streets of Alexandria, ready to be shipped off to a copper mine in lower Egypt. The faerie lord had learned too well that one cannot be freed unless the wish to be. And before the faerie stood two slaves from Alexandria, and hoping there were some people within the world of mortals who knew their own oppression, he asked them, "Greetings subjects of humanity, have no fear, for I bring today great fortune in exchange for my sweet entertainment..."

[bitterrobin]

welcome back to wasp rants about severely underappreciated DC characters who got shafted

Today: Its all about Rory Regan, the Ragman.

A preface before we get into it: I am not Jewish. I am agnostic. I'll try not to overstep my boundaries here but I do want to highlight how important the religion is to the character in this post.

*ehem* So, Rory Regan. He was created by Robert Kanigher and Joe Kubert in 1976, and initially, he was just Irish. He's vigilante with a suit made up of rags with absolutely zero tech. He just has the inherited skills of his dad and his friends when they died in the go backstory.

The real meat of the character is established in Ragman (1991). Here, he is retconned into a Vietnam War veteran, Jewish, and haunted by PTSD. He is now from Gotham City, and operates there for the whole mini-run. Rory is an Irish name, as his father was a fan of it. Regan is anglicized from Reganiewicz.

The first two pages of the first issue. The things that really struck me when I first read this was the monologue:

It's all up to me! I'm scared and alone and its all up to me!

This phrase continues to pop up as he becomes a vigilante and struggles through conflict. It's poignant, and it's rare for a hero to admit such weakness in comics. At least from what I've read.

Rory lives with his father, Gerry Regan, who owns a pawn shop. It used to be a clothing store, but their neighborhood in Gotham has sunk into deep poverty. His father is kind and known to people as a good man. He anglicized his name from Jerzy to Gerry.

This is Betty. A homeless woman and part of the very, very small supporting cast of Rory's story. She's absolutely great and I love her.

Rory, compared to his father, is brash. Rough. He complains a lot about their poverty, the shop, how kind his father is to people who can't pay him back. But he's not an asshole.

The main plot line of this comic run is this: their neighborhood in Gotham is very poor. It's a crime-ridden dump, and it sucks for everyone living there. Later on in the series, we see that even Batman rarely goes there. (This'll cause conflict later.) Either way, Gerry gets mugged by gangsters who want to use the shop as a base for selling drugs.

Rory doesn't like his situation. But he's not going to leave his father to fend for himself. Early on, we get that his character is loyal despite his toughness. The thugs break into their apartment (connected to the store) and kill his father, beat and stab Rory and leave him to die in the alley.

The next pages just...speak for themselves.

I'll explain the Golem later. But I want to stress that Rory, prior to his father's murder, wasn't religious. As far as I know, he did not practice Judaism, and yet his father's influence is strong. You can feel the love and grief. (The art in this comic is sooo 90's and yet soooo Good.)

Btw, it was Betty who found him in the alley and took him to a backdoor clinic. The thugs move in on the store and set up some criminals as Rory's fake aunt and uncle in order to legally own it. They immediately start selling drugs and pushing out/degrading drug addicts.

Rory starts investigating who took over the store. It's shown, from the beginning, that he's friends with homeless people like Betty - and he treats them as equals. With respect.

It's all up to me!

Rory goes back to the shop in the middle of the night searching for evidence. Something to get the store back, to take revenge.

He finds the rags instead.

Insane first issue!!! INSANE. I love it.

SO. The Ragman. It's a title. A magical item passed down. The rags are each sentient, a soul of a former sinner who got absorbed. They can talk to Rory and give him advice, either willingly or not. If they help Rory solve crimes/do good deeds enough, they will get to go to heaven/be absolved. All together, the rags form a being that acts on instinct and Rory has a constant struggle to control the suit and ask it for help.

Next issue #2. Rory fights the criminals who took over the store. The suit is strong, it makes him invulnerable. He takes three gunshots to the chest and keeps on walking. In later comics, it's revealed that the suit slows the wearer's aging. He eventually finds one of the men who killed his father.

He finds the other man back at the store. One thing to note, Rory is filled with rage. It's a consistent character trait that while he tries to be a figure of goodness, he's never not angry at the injustices in the world.

Another thing. The Ragman is terrifying. We can talk all day about how Batman uses fear against criminals, but the Ragman is fear. He's untouchable, unkillable in a way that Bruce isn't.

The man flees. The Ragman follows.

Let it be known that I hate heroes who kill for edgy reasons. Rory kills a man in the second issue. Why do I keep reading? Because he regrets it. Because it isn't portrayed as a good thing. The point of the suit is redemption, and the character will continue to grapple with this. Rory does get called out by a different character literally the next issue.

He hesitates. He still does it, but he hesitates.

I'll skip forward now, so you get to see the consequences of his actions. He does not kill and get away with it, no matter the notions of revenge or crime. You could probably make some sort of connection between this and his past as a Vietnam War soldier, how it dehumanized people and created killers. This story is also from 1991, a time of grit and "realism" through violence.

Issue #3. We meet Rabbi Luria and get the backstory of the suit.

Because there's an image limit, I'll continue the story as much as I can in text. Go read the full mini series yourself please!! It's great.

So, the rabbi tells a story about the creation of the Golem. (He calls Rory "Mr. Wisenheimer" when he interrupts him lol). In this story, the Golem was created in 16th century Prague to protect the Jewish people. Apparently, they created it without a soul, and several rabbis came together and decided to create something different. They created the rag suit using the same kind of magic, a suit that needs a human wearer to use it. A worthy man. And the Ragman is born.

Rory cuts in by exclaiming its all ridiculous bullshit. The rabbi chews him out for his lack of faith and for killing five people (there's panels I did not include). He says:

A story?! Why you ignorant young fool! Five people are dead! Do you find that ridiculous? Because I do! I find it ridiculous that anyone so unworthy...would dare to put on a suit composed of the souls of the dead! Listen to their voices wailing in torment! Feel the evil of their presence! And tell me...who is ridiculous now?

He takes the suit and shows Rory one of the stitched-in rags. It's the woman he killed in the shop, the one who was posing as his aunt. Her enraged, ghostly face screams from the rag:

He doesn't know what he's doing! Vorst said he was sorry and he killed him anyway!

Vorst is the ginger guy he killed by dropping him off a building. Rabbi Luria continues to push the rag in Rory's face, demanding:

This is true, Rory? There was repentance?

Rory gets sick and runs away to vomit. The rabbi chides him with a click of his tongue. He looks at a picture of Jerzy and mourns him, lamenting what happened to him. Rory comes back, overhearing the non-English name of his father. Rabbi Luria explains his true Jewish name and their history as survivors of the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. Rory is shocked to hear all of this. You can probably glean that Jerzy tried to his best to fit in to America.

The rabbi continues on, explaining that Jerzy was the former Ragman. He rescued as many Jewish people he could out of Europe, and when the Nazis came for the ghetto - they burned it down. The one weakness of the suit is fire, so Jerzy couldn't do anything as the place went up in flames. Rabbi Luria notes the irony. Still, Ragman pushes on. He is a symbol of resistance. The Jewish people fight back, but at the turn of the battle, the Ragman vanishes. The rabbi says that the Ragman's duty is to protect the people and inspire hope, but there was no hope left. The remaining people are rounded up and taken to the camps.

The suit had teleported Jerzy away from the fight, to go somewhere else it was needed. It moved its wearer away from danger also as part of its safety feature. While Rabbi Luria understood that the Ragman had to go - Jerzy was ashamed. He was infuriated, sad, he believed he could've done more. Saved more lives. In his shame, he goes to America in self-exile.

The next day, the rabbi explains that oopsie, he created another golem after the war and now it's coming to kill Rory. Over the years, it saved lives and gradually became more and more human. The golem's goal is now to destroy the Ragman as it fears being replaced.

Rory does not want any of this shit. But the Ragman and the Golem can't exist at the same time, and the rabbi says he has to fight. Rory has another nightmare.

He resolves to fight the Golem and win. He wants to makes the world a better place. He asks the rabbi to teach him.

(And this post ends here because there's more images I want too include and way more story - but sleep calls.)

[manicplank]

can we have hc on witnessing a robbery, burglary, assault etc

Witnessing a crime

Peppino: Uh oh... Someone's trying to rob that guy over there! He runs over in Mach 3 and body slams the robber! The guy tries to thank him and reward him with cash, but Peppino turns it down. Doing a good deed is all he needs in payment. He goes home with a smug smirk on his face. Is that robber gonna be ok? Probably not. Oh well! So shines a good deed in a weary world.

Gustavo: Oh no! Someone's robbing the convenience store! Let's go, Brick! They bust through the door and chase the robbers out! It's hard not to run from a giant rat! The owner is thankful. They did break the door, though... He offers to pay, but the owner of the store is simply grateful that he no longer has a gun to his head. Okay, then! He oats Brick on the head. "Well done, buddy! Now let's go home and watch a movie. Maybe we can stop somewhere and get you a treat!"

Mr. Stick: Two people are fist fighting! He runs over and blends into the crowd. He's got 50 bucks on that guy! Who's in the bet? He ends up losing the bet. Wait... The guy who won, is that... The Noise?! Hey, wait, no, don't leave! Mr. Stick has a bone to pick with you!

Pepperman: Someone is vandalizing that wall with graffiti! Here comes Pepperman to save the day! Ok, so what you want to do is use less of the red and more of the blue, it gives it a more realistic touch. You're doing great! Okay, now try using some of the purple next to the blue. [sirens] SHIT, IT'S THE COPS! RUN!!!

The Vigilante: A gang of ne'erdowells is robbing the Pig City Bank! Thankfully, The Vigilante is here to save the day! He kicks open the doors, which takes out the watchmen. His gun clicks as he points at the thieves. There's three of them but only one of him. He pulls the trigger and slams the hammer back so he can fire again and again. All three criminals are taken down! Hooray for The Vigilante!!! The Pig City Police arrive to take the criminals to jail.

The Noise: He's in a fight with someone. They're probably fighting over something stupid. His nose is bleeding, but the other guy is black and blue all over. One more punch to the jaw, and the other dude is knocked out! The crowd around them cheers. Noise! Noise! Noise! He runs out of there before the cops arrive! The other guy can't seem to remember what happened, and The Noise never gets caught.

Noisette: Oh gosh! Someone's assaulting that poor old lady! Noisette runs over in a panic, flailing her arms. "HELP! HELP! THERE'S A BOMB STRAPPED TO MY CHEST (sobs) OH MY GOD, SOMEONE HELP!" The robber scatters off, but so does the old lady. However, the robber was unsuccessful. She wipes off her shoulders. She learned that trick from The Noise. It works every time!

Fake Peppino: A gang of bad shrimp try to break into Bruno's despite the signs on the door. He hears the boards being broken... Intruders! He walks over in his usual form to see the gang, and they laugh at him. "What're you gonna do, weirdo?" They brandish their knives. Suddenly, Fakey warps into a giant, horrific deity. He wails demonically and charges at them. They run out screaming, but Fakey manages to grab one. He throws him in his mouth and chews him up. Mm, yummy! Wait, come back, you guys are tasty!

Pizzaface: A gang of bad pigs try to break into the fourth floor. Not on his watch! He slams face down and squashes them like flies. Well, that was easy. "Hey, Faker! I've got some ham for ya!"

Pizzahead: Someone broke into Pizzaboy's PizzPizza, and they're avoiding all the alarms, so the bots aren't engaged. They're trying to loot the place. Hell no! He rushes down there and sneaks up on the guy. He gets behind them and stabs their neck repeatedly with a Pizzaboy Official Merch Knife! Available today at your local Pizzamart! (Not suitable for children under 3.) Another body to feed to the garbage disposal- er, I mean, Fakey.

Pillar John: Someone broke into the tower. Hmmm... If he can knock himself over, he can activate Pizza Time, which will alarm Pizzaface. How would he do that, though? Maybe if he, URG! Twists and, EGH, wiggles enough he can- (THUD!) IT'S PIZZA TIME! Whoo, that was tough, but he did the right thing.

Gerome: Several times have gang members tried to rob him in The Pig City. He tries to explain to them that he's broke and doesn't necessarily get paid. They don't care. Little do they know, he has a mop, and he knows how to weaponize it! Slam! He hits one of them in the face with the wet side of the mop, and they're knocked out. "Now... Who wants some?!" The rest of the gang runs away, leaving their buddy behind.

This one was fun to write.

[withcameraandpen]

Sondam Week 2024, Day 6

Give it up for the Day 6 prompt, Future! I took some liberties with this one (as if I haven't been this whole time lol), but enjoy chapter 6 of The Despair Killings! You can read the rest on AO3 here!

Gundham marched across the gravel parking lot of Hope Springs Therapy, opened the door, and went inside. It was a quarter to twelve, which would fit in snugly with the average therapist’s schedule; Komaeda offered 45-minute sessions, and coming right before lunch meant Komaeda couldn’t rush off to some other appointment. Gundham had him trapped.

He waited patiently, sitting in a hardbacked wooden chair as he catalogued every inch of the room until the door to Komaeda’s inner sanctum opened. Komaeda emerged with a weary patient in tow, a young lady with auburn hair and freckles. Komaeda also looked tired, but he perked up when he saw Gundham waiting.

“Hello, Agent Tanaka,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He stood. “I have more questions regarding a former client.”

“Of course.” Komaeda turned to the young woman. “We had a good session today, Mahiru. Do something nice for yourself.”

“I will,” said the young woman. “Thanks, Nagito.”

She nodded at both men and then left, heaving a sigh as she walked through the door. “Come with me, Agent,” said Komaeda. “Do you mind if I make myself some tea?”

“Not at all.”

Komaeda led him through a narrow hallway and into a modest kitchen at the back of the office. On the spindly table in the corner of the room sat a decorative incense burner that resembled the leaning tower of Pisa. “I hope you don’t mind incense, either,” said Komaeda as he picked up a box of incense sticks on the table. “I’m a firm believer in the restorative power of scent.”

“By all means.”

In short order, the incense was lit, its heady scent washing over the room. Komaeda opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of tea bags. “What can I do for you, Agent?”

“I was deliberating on the records your shared with us of Mister Kuzuryu’s visits,” he began. “I thought it odd how rarely Kuzuryu mentioned his wife’s death during your sessions, even though he’d been seeing you for over a year.” At first, he assumed it was Kuzuryu’s natural reticence to speak of a difficult loss, to say nothing of his potential involvement. But after fair Sonia shared her wisdom, Gundham saw sinister machinations in the doctor’s omission.

“Not for lack of trying,” Komaeda replied with a sigh. “But I wasn’t surprised. Even when they’re going to therapy, people hate talking about the reason they’re there.”

“What did he share with you? Did he ever allude to playing a role in the incident?”

Komaeda’s eyes flashed. “He’s still protected by client confidentiality, even after death.”

Gundham shook himself. Do not be hasty. “Indubitably.”

“Luckily, I can tell you one thing.” Komaeda poured a cup of water and put it in the microwave. “He never shared a specific reason for coming in, though he sought me out shortly after Peko’s death.”

“So that was merely interpretation.” Gundham found that hard to believe. “What do you make of Mister Kuzuryu also being stabbed by one of his wife’s swords?”

He frowned. “I don’t know what you mean. What am I supposed to make of it?”

“Well, it’s highly coincidental, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s sad.” His lips pursed. “And stunning beyond belief. But I suppose people find romance in rumor.”

“Do you believe Kuzuryu was innocent? Did he ever say so?”

Komaeda’s eyes flashed. “I can’t tell you that.”

Gundham was onto something. His reticence, his guarded demeanor, the sharpness in his eyes – yes, Gundham was close, indeed. “Did you ever treat Kazuichi Soda? He was the most recent murder victim.”

“The mechanic, right. It’s awful, isn’t it?” he said, his voice flat. “I can hardly keep them all straight anymore, which is its own kind of awful.”

“We are working our hardest.”

“Of course you are. My apologies, I meant no offense.”

The microwave beeped. Komaeda took out the mug and put the tea bag in, allowing it to steep as he turned back to Gundham. “I’m afraid Kazuichi wasn’t a client of mine.”

“How odd,” Gundham replied. “A friend of his told me he had seen you the day of his death.”

He shrugged. “Maybe in passing?”

“No, I’m afraid she was quite explicit. According to her, Mister Soda had a meeting with his therapist the day he was killed.”

“Must not have been me, then.” He shrugged, though his eyes were locked on Gundham. “Maybe he had an online therapist? In all likelihood, he did that or maybe went to the next town over to keep his treatment as private as possible.”

“I see. And what of the other victims? Did you ever treat Nekomaru Nidai and Ibuki Mioda?”

“No.” He sighed bitterly. “You know what town you’re in, don’t you? Around these parts, you can’t admit to being different in any way, and that includes needing mental health support. I hope all these people were seeking support, and I hope their friends and family seek it as well, now more than ever. No one should grieve alone.”

Gundham blinked. Something about Komaeda’s speech muddled his mind. “You seem to resent how people treat mental health here.”

“I think people would rather say they were having an affair than admit to seeing me.” The steam from the mug warmed his face, turning his cheeks rosy and giving his eyes a hazy look. “But if I have to be half the town’s mistress in order to heal them, so be it.”

Gundham’s mind turned to sticky black muck. His eyelids grew heavy. “May we open a window?”

Komaeda’s head tilted suddenly. “Do you use a lot of incense, Agent Tanaka?”

“I am accustomed to the smell, yes.”

“You must be. You’re very resilient.”

The world tilted suddenly. Gundham was falling, his head smacking against the countertop as he crashed to the ground. He tried to get up, but his limbs were too heavy, his arms lying still at his sides.

A smug grin grew on Komaeda’s face. He walked over to the incense burner, plucked the stick out, and then stuck it in his cup of tea. The end fizzled out.

“It’s impressive how long you lasted,” he said. “It was almost too much for me, even with the tea’s aroma blocking it out.”

Darkness called to Gundham, pulling him down to some cold, watery, unknowable depths. “It was only a matter of time till someone found the connection,” said Komaeda, opening a drawer. “I destroyed all their records, though I couldn’t resist keeping Fuyuhiko’s. What a fascinating subject!”

He knelt beside Gundham and pulled his limp wrists together, a zip tie in hand. “He admitted he killed his wife in our first session. He showed deep remorse, but at the same time, petrifying fear that he would be found out. People are so afraid, aren’t they? I’m starting to think real, genuine joy is just an absence of fear.

“When I made my mind up about what I had to do, I knew I had to take out any mention of Peko in my notes. We all had our suspicions, but that’s quite different from knowing for sure, isn’t it? He told me he plunged her own sword into her, enraged when she admitted she stepped out on him. With him dead, there’s only one other person in the world who knows which one it is.”

“The one you used on him?” Gundham wheezed.

Komaeda grinned. “The police are idiots, but even that’s too much of a coincidence for them.”

He snapped the zip tie around Gundham’s hands, cinching it so tightly that the plastic dug into his wrists. “The others?” Gundham choked out. “Is this what you did to the others?”

“Most of them.” Komaeda sat back on his heels, watching him. “But nothing lasts forever. I knew someone at some future point would figure me out, but I got pretty lucky it was you.”

Gundham’s tongue felt thick and numb. His eyes fluttered, growing heavier with each blink, as he asked, “Me?”

Komaeda’s grin widened. “Someone Witch Creek won’t miss.”

Sonia paced the length of her motel room, limping along as the sun crept down to the horizon. She’d been a ball of nerves since she and Gundham parted ways. The tension grew every minute until this one, when it finally became unbearable.

She unlocked the door and flew out of the motel room, marching to the car parked on the opposite side of the lot. The plainclothes police officers inside jumped when they saw her in the rearview mirror. The one in the passenger seat reached for the door, but the driver side officer held him back.

Sonia went to the driver’s side window and knocked. The officer rolled it down, staring at her with his surly, piggish eyes. “You shouldn’t be out here, y’know.”

“It’s an emergency. Have you heard from Agent Tanaka?”

“No,” he said gruffly.

“Neither have I, but he said he’d be back hours ago.”

The officer shrugged. “He’s not a predictable guy, in case you didn’t notice.”

“He’s not predictable, but he is reliable,” she retorted. “Aren’t you worried?”

“Matter of fact, I’m relieved.” The officer chuckled. “If he’s off on a bender, we might get to move on the case.”

“He could be hurt!” she exclaimed, aghast.

“He’s armed, ma’am. He’ll be fine.” He leaned out of the car. “But you won’t be unless you get back to your room and stop talking to us.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder that someone’s more concerned with you than the devil worshipper.”

She bit back a huffy retort and stormed back to her room, slamming the door behind her. She knew something was wrong. Why did Gundham go in alone? Had he told anyone about the connection between the victims, or that he was going to see that connection?

Even if he had, every other officer would probably dismiss him just like those other two. After that chilly reception, no wonder he saved his energy!

Calling the station wouldn’t help, either. They all thought he was a madman and his deduction would be dismissed as the ravings of one. Why was Witch Creek so stuffy and proud to the point it made them stupid?

She picked up one of the “evidence” boxes the police had brought her earlier, filled with the clothes and toiletries they smuggled out of her home to avoid rousing the killer’s suspicion. She pulled out sweaters and fleece-lined leggings, digging until she found her switchblade at the bottom.

She had asked for it as a safeguard, imagining she would keep it under her pillow as she slept. Now she stuck it in her pocket as she pulled on her jacket and boots, and then undid her ponytail and wound it back up into a bun. She walked over to the bed and crawled across it to the window.

She pushed the thin curtains aside. Through the window, she saw the busy highway and the McDonald’s right next to it, with a long line of cars wrapping around the building just in time for the drive-thru dinner rush. The police hadn’t put a sentry here in part because there just wasn’t anywhere to park a car where an officer could both hide and protect her, and also because it was too busy for someone to sneak in without being spotted. They never thought about someone sneaking out.

She knew she would be spotted and the gossip would make its way to her guards before long, so she had to move. “If it ain’t broke,” she muttered to herself as she climbed out the motel window, “don’t fix it.”

[lauralot89]

He is uncommonly clever, if one can judge from his face, and full of energy.

Jonathan: *uncommonly clever*

Jonathan: *reacted to Dracula revealing he has no reflection and then terribly trying to hide that by yeeting the only mirror in the castle with "But how am I going to shave now"*

yes I know I'm being unfair

After reading his account of it I was prepared to meet a good specimen of manhood

I'm an adult

However, after a while I came away; my friend is just a little too sane at present to make it safe to probe him too deep with questions. He might begin to think, and then—!

I feel like moments of lucidity would be the best time to ask questions, but then, I'm clearly an idiot because I never would have come up with such brilliant plans as "let my patient escape on purpose instead of treating him"

can you imagine if Jonathan had to track all this stuff down with today's shipping companies? Imagine trying to get any information out of FedEx. Then again, if Drac had used FedEx he'd never have received half of his boxes and they'd just be like "yeah we don't know where they went sorry" and only after he specifically called to ask because they wouldn't bother to reach out and tell them

Yes, I've had a bitter experience

Of course they had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that Dr. Van Helsing, too, has been quite "blowing my trumpet," as Mr. Morris expressed it.

I adore how everyone who meets Mina immediately falls in love and never stops talking about it, great stuff

I never thought at the time how strange it all was

yeah, dealing with vampires puts everything into perspective that way

It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him.

you know, if Dracula hadn't come and ruined everything, these people could have had the greatest orgy ever, just saying

She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her, and there was no possible reason why I should

I mean there was the time Renfield stabbed you

His method of tidying was peculiar: he simply swallowed all the flies and spiders in the boxes before I could stop him. It was quite evident that he feared, or was jealous of, some interference.

Seward why are you so judgmental

"You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's dead."

wait can every patient hear Seward doing his phonograph

He replied to her with as much courtesy and respect as he had shown contempt to me

Maybe that's because she doesn't treat him like a science experiment

after to-night she must not have to do with this so terrible affair

*prolonged furious screaming*

Listen. LISTEN. I know that Van Helsing's own wife went mad and I'm sure all of his not-telling-anyone-anything bullshit is in an attempt to keep them safe from the same fate but like

a) No

b) Mina is the only reason we've made as much progress as we have

c) Are you sure your wife didn't just go insane from listening to you speak endlessly, sir

that was mean of me. but still.

However, 'the milk that is spilt cries not out afterwards,' as you say.

oh my head

he can command all the meaner things: the rat, and the owl, and the bat—the moth, and the fox, and the wolf

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

Dracula can control MOTHS?

DRACULA/MOTHMAN CROSSOVER WHEN

Van Helsing just sitting around listing all the ways Dracula kicks ass feels very Gaston to me

They learned his secrets in the Scholomance

WIZARD SCHOOL WITH HEADMASTER SATAN

Whilst they were talking Mr. Morris was looking steadily at the window, and he now got up quietly, and went out of the room.

Quincey greatness incoming in 3, 2, 1 -

Here we were interrupted in a very startling way. Outside the house came the sound of a pistol-shot; the glass of the window was shattered with a bullet, which, ricochetting from the top of the embrasure, struck the far wall of the room. I am afraid I am at heart a coward, for I shrieked out. The men all jumped to their feet; Lord Godalming flew over to the window and threw up the sash. As he did so we heard Mr. Morris's voice without:—

"Sorry! I fear I have alarmed you. I shall come in and tell you about it." A minute later he came in and said:—

"It was an idiotic thing of me to do, and I ask your pardon, Mrs. Harker, most sincerely; I fear I must have frightened you terribly. But the fact is that whilst the Professor was talking there came a big bat and sat on the window-sill. I have got such a horror of the damned brutes from recent events that I cannot stand them, and I went out to have a shot, as I have been doing of late of evenings, whenever I have seen one. You used to laugh at me for it then, Art."

"Did you hit it?" asked Dr. Van Helsing.

"I don't know; I fancy not, for it flew away into the wood." Without saying any more he took his seat, and the Professor began to resume his statement

Quincey is the best character in all of fiction, I do not take debate

[abomicreator]

KNY OC introduction and their interaction with the canon characters

Last time i posted about Yona, i didn't introduce them more clearly. So today I'll be redoing that for my own and any people who are interested in their character :]

Warning: there'll be an oc insert into the main plot of the series!!

Their name is Shiekanjo Iyona which means True emotions and Solely. They like being call Yona instead of Iyona for a reason

Their rank is Hinoto (They're pretty strong despite their nonchalant personality)

They're 167 cm tall ( 5'6" )

They're blood related to Hantengu the upper moon four. And has to suffer from the condition because of his sin.

Facts about them!!

- Their favourite things to do are playing Kendama and investigate new places.

- They're into demonology and has tons of writing about each demons they killed

- People doesn't understand them due to their condition which sometimes confuse other about how they really feel

- they're suffer from a condition where their face doesn't act like how they feel. Example:

Angry -> Their face will be happy

Sad -> Their face will be calm

Happy -> Their face will be sad

Kanroji Mitsuri is their mentor since their weapon are similar to hers. And they do need some flexibility.

Speaking of their weapon, this is what it's looks like (I'm not good at drawing it haha)

This is one of their little fact

- She love playing Kendama so much, they literally beg the swordsmith who made sword for them to put Kendama (which also have the same material as normal nichirin sword)

I'm not sure what their sword color would be.. but I'm thinking of yellow, since they use Thunder breathing.

Their interaction with the canon characters

Kamado Tanjiro

When they first met Tanjiro, It was at the final selection. When Tanjiro broke Shinazugawa Genya's arm. They couldn't help but feel satisfied by his action. (They just want the crow and go home)

They didn't like the fact that he trying to cure a demon back to normal. They think it's impossible and a waste of time

Kamado Nezuko

After joining the corps. They heard about her from other slayers and wasn't really okay with having demon among them. They first met Nezuko on their way to a meeting with someone, at a corridor. Even with Nezuko's friendliness, it doesn't stop Yona from trying to kill her. They try to stab her with the sword but luckily Zenitsu came and stop them in time.

Agatsuma Zenitsu

He's one of Jigoro's students, so they know eachother from the start. They've been trained together and passed the final selection. They're just chill. Zenitsu can only use the first form of thunder breathing right? And Yona can only use the third and fourth. Overall they don't hate him.

Shinazugawa Genya

At the final selection again. They didn't like how Genya treat the little girl and found him annoying big meanie. Until after few months, they met again. Yona was surprised by the changes. They became a good friend after the swordsmith arc.

Their opinion to demons :

“Demons are magnificent being. Despite how much i love about them. They need to be kill and vanish away from this world.”

I don't know what to write anymore sadly, but if any of you guys have a question about them, I'll be greatful to answer it! :]

See you next time <3

[timotey]

Ficlet: Of Sucky Days

The Sign. Yai/Sand. Missing scene from ep 5. Unbeta’d.

Coming home after a sucky day.

(My first Yai/Sand ficlet, yay!)

***

“Oh, hey, hi. How was work?” That’s all that Sand manages to say before she’s enveloped in her boyfriend’s strong arms.

Yai walks into their flat, kicks the door shut and lets his bag drop to the floor, then he almost falls into his beloved’s arms, and wrapping himself around her, octopus-like, buries his face in her neck and groans.

Sand lifts her eyebrows, blinking rapidly in surprise, then she returns the hug, stroking Yai's back soothingly. “That bad, huh?” she says sympathetically.

“Today is a sucky, sucky day,” Yai whines pitifully and squeezes her tight, almost lifting her off the floor.

Sand laughs a little, simply letting Yai breathe her in, soak her in like sunshine after a cold season. “I’m all ears,” she offers.

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “No, you’re not. Which is good. I know I said I would love you in any and every shape and form but I just might draw the line at you being all ears.” 

Yai pulls away from her and with a twinkle in his eyes, he sweeps her off her feet and carries her to the couch where he proceeds to sprawl lazily with her in his lap.

“Alright, alright,” Sand says, still smiling wide as she settles down comfortably - and wiggles just a little, for good measure. “Not all ears, then, just two. But ready to listen, if you want to talk.”

Yai groans again though this time for different reasons; Sand knows very well what she’s doing, squirming like that, right on top of his little friend. He orders the lively thing to behave, at least for now, and pulls his girlfriend close.

“I can’t really go into details,” Yai says, “but, well, we caught our guy. Which is great. But it also sucks. Because he's a murderer who forced innocent people do unspeakable things but he was also a victim first, before all that. And if the cops had done a better job back then, none of this would’ve happened. So that sucks too. The whole situation sucks, from the beginning to the end.”

Sand hums and she leans against his shoulder, stroking his face and listening.

“And if that wasn’t enough, Phaya had a row with Tharn. He actually hit Tharn, the bastard,” Yai grumbles, voice laced with real irritation and worry.

That makes Sand raise her head and look at Yai in concern. “Phaya hit Tharn?” she asks in dismay.

“Well, it was most likely an accident, I give you that,” Yai allows grudgingly, “at least Tharn insists it was. But I would probably be more inclined to believe that if Phaya hadn’t punched a wall first. That guy has a real temper, let me tell you.”

“Is Tharn okay?” Sand asks, worried. Tharn's always been like a brother-in-law to her, like family, and treated her with nothing but kindness and affection.

“Yeah. Yeah, he and Phaya made up, apparently. Or... whatever. After Tharn got stabbed,” Yai finishes morosely.

Sand freezes, eyes widening. “He what?” she exclaimed.

“Got stabbed. The vest deflected the hit, mostly. But, yeah, he did. Protecting Phaya. Yet again,” Yai mutters, annoyed. “Like I said, today sucks. Big time!”

“So Tharn’s okay?” Sand assures herself. “Where is he now?”

“Yeah, he is, more or less, okay, I mean,” Yai tells her. “And he’s at home. Phaya went with him.”

Sand lifts an eyebrow. “Did he now?” 

“Yeah. He wanted me to pick up some clothes for him at his house, can you believe that guy?” Yai fumes. “First he punches my brother, then he allows him to get stabbed and then he wants me to play a manservant. Dude can waltz around naked for all I care!”

Sand’s lips twitch. “I bet Tharn would appreciate that.”

That stops Yai short. “Huh. Maybe I should have brought him his things, after all,” he muses, frowning a little.

“But Tharn is okay, right?” Sand asks again, just to be sure. Though she knows that if he weren’t Yai wouldn’t just be sitting here, grumbling. She knows how much Yai loves Tharn, with all his big foolish heart and then some. “Both he and Phaya?”

Yai sighs, dropping his head back against the backrest. “Yeah, they are. Just a little banged up, is all. Probably playing doctor right now.” He straightens up again, narrowing his eyes. “Wait.”

Sand laughs, seeing his disturbed expression. Then, with a wicked gleam in her eyes, she runs her hand down his chest, lower and lower - and wiggles in his lap again. “And what about you?” she whispers, leaning closer, her breath hot against his ear. “Up to playing doctor with me?”

Yai draws in a sharp breath, eyes blazing up, when Sand brushes her fingers against his belt buckle. His little friend immediately jumps to attention.

In a split second, Yai is back on his feet with an armful of a laughing girlfriend. “Yeah. We should definitely do that. I think that a thorough check-up is in order.”

And with that he rushes towards their bedroom, Sand’s laughter echoing through their flat, and all worries are forgotten, at least for now.