#also walkers please don’t look at me I am squishy

[vespertine-legacy]

Raid tonight was such a circus

Not sure who decided we were going to do ToS. But we actually did have the Saturday team live up to its original purpose a little, with people changing up to roles they don’t do as often. So I got to dps with Princess, which was really fun.

I don’t know how much of it was desync (desync? in my swtor?), and how much was just honk honk clown noises, but we spent so much time on Walkers, and I lost count of how many times Princess and I blew each other up. At least once, while swapping between Walkers, we’d both yeet ourselves over, directly into Ground Missiles, and one or both of us would go splat. For a while though, I must have had a Friendly Fire target on my head - Tom and Suff both killed me with the purple circles after grav well, Ray killed me with a ground missile, somebody killed me with the grenade, at one point Frenzy was like “okay, who killed november this time?!” (Granted, the time in question, it was like Princess and I had stepped on a landmine and just both been obliterated, and while we were both killed by the same thing according to StarParse, we were under different Walkers, and then the bastards threw the grenade at my corpse for good measure).

[sillyrabbit81]

Hello my Dear!!

I have a prompt / head cannon for you 😉

How would they (Henry and his characters) react to being given a home made item (like a crochet blanket) from their Girl.

This came to me while I was crocheting while babysitting :)

Hi @amberangel112 Thanks for the ask. I love it and I hope you love it too ❤️

Masterlist

Homemade Gifts Headcanon

Henry

Henry would love anything you make for him, he knows and appreciates how long and full of love handmade items are. But you will have his heart forever if you make him a beanie just for him to wear on his early morning runs. He will wear it with pride and tell anyone who asks that you made it for him.

Captain Syverson

Captain Squishy is on the same wavelength as Henry. He is proud of his little woman, whatever she does. Knowing that you spent those hours thinking of him while you made him something just about makes his heart burst. He would love a crochet blanket to take with him when he is deployed so he could bring it out of his footlocker, lay it on his bed, and imagine you making it for him. Being able to touch something you made for him with love, will make him feel just that little bit closer to you and keep him homesickness at bay.

Walter Marshall

Detective Grumpypants already has a penchant for knitwear and would absolutely wear a homemade woollen sweater. He probably wouldn’t tell his colleges you made it though, not because he isn’t proud of you, just because he likes to keep his private life separate from his work life. But just know, every time he pulls it on, he smiles and gets the urge to kiss you, even if its three am.

August Walker

August cares for you deeply, but also has an image to uphold, tailored suits, overcoats, leather shoes. You wrack your brain to think of something he would wear and you decide to make him cashmere knitted socks. He takes one look at them as raises his eyes brows, shrugs and puts them on. He is severely reprimanded when he knocks the teeth loose on the first and only man who questions why he would wear pink socks with a kitten on them.

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt appreciates anything you would make for him and is genuinely touched that you cared enough for him go to all that effort. You get annoyed though, you spent a lot of time making him a warm blanket (and a matching one for Roach) for him to take on his trips. When you find your blankets in a chest after deliberately packing them for him, you confront him as soon as he gets home. He explains that he loves them so much, he doesn’t want them to get dirty from the road or covered in Selkiemore guts. You can hardly be mad at that explanation. You immediately start making another set, so he can have one to keep special and one to use.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock likes all of your homemade gifts. He sees your crafts as a suitable pursuit for a woman of your social standing and likes knowing that it keeps you occupied so you don’t distract him when he is busy on a case. Just don’t invite your friends around for a knitting circle. He can’t stand those nattering old biddies in his house.

Charles Brandon

Of course, he loves your home-made gifts. Everything he wears is handmade and a handmade gift from his lover is a sure sign he has won your affection. He would prefer you take up embroidery, much more suitable to a woman of your rank, but he allows it because he loves you.

Mike

Mike doesn’t get it, like why spend all that time making something when you can just go buy it. He complains loudly when you chose to work on your crochet rather than spend time with him and constantly tries new and inventive ways to get your attention. He still hasn’t worked out that you ignore him on purpose. You like when he’s all frustrated and desperate to please.

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[plaid-lover-bay25]

Baylea’s SPN/Disney Birthday Challenge!

As I posted before I am planning to celebrate my birthday by hosting a challenge!! My birthday is June 25th and I am turning 26. I feel old. lol

Now for the celebration part. I want to combine my love for both Supernatural and Disney. So I decided to take some of my favorite Disney quotes and make a list for you all to chose from!

Under the cut is the list of rules and how to sign up! Anyone can join and participate. If you don’t want to join please reblog and spread the word. I want to celebrate with all of you! Love you guys and I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with!!

Challenge Rules:

#1: Choose a quote from the list bellow and send me an ask. Make sure to have a backup choice just in case the first one is already taken. Also let me know what blog you will be posting from. Reblogs or comments will not be counted.

#2: Write for the SPN fandom. It can be either characters or actors. Fluff, angst, smutt, anything as long as it tickles your fancy.

#3: You must have someone say the quote. It has to be in the story somewhere!

#4: Must be a stand alone or beginning of a series. Can’t be a part of an existing series.

#5: Sign ups start now and end on May 31st.

#6: Post anytime in June but deadline is June 25th, my birthday.

#7: Make sure to tag me in the A/N and tag the story with #Bay’s mashup bday challenge within the first 5 tags

#8: I will post the masterlist on June 26th

#9: Have fun and enjoy. If you need to extend just let me know.

Disney Quotes:

The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it

Even miracles take a little time

You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think- @laurenmaggietrash

If watching is all you’re gonna do, then you’re gonna watch your life go by without ya

Our fate lives within us, you just have to be brave enough to see it- @charlotteswinchester

Hakuna matata

Sometimes the right path is not the easiest

A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength but by the strength of his heart- @deanjensensmut

To infinity and beyond

The very things that hold you down are going to lift you up

Nothing’s impossible

If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothin’ at all

Can anybody be happy if they aren’t free?- @sixtysevenandwhiskey

Just because it’s what’s done doesn’t mean it’s what should be done

Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours- @goldenolaf25

Being doesn’t mean you go looking for trouble

The human world is a mess

All it takes is faith and trust

You’re never too old to be young

Everybody’s got problems. The world is full of problems

Your dream stinks. I was talking to her

Put your faith in what you most believe in- @multi-fandom-imagines8

I would go most anywhere to feel like I belong

He touched the butt- @danneel-genevieve-misha

Trust your heart

There’s no one I would rather be than me

Adventure is out there

I shall call him squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my squishy- @supernaturallysammy

Reach for the sky

Trust. It’s what friends do

Remember who you are

I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day @pinknerdpanda

Before sunrise… he’s your son- @jamie-nicole-97

Lost doesn’t mean alone- @just-a-supernatural-sister

Break the spell

Ladies do not start fights, but they can finish them- @jenneel-jarevieve

I believe in you

Family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten- @queernovak

Giving up is for rookies

The sky’s awake, so I’m awake

But it’s a rock- @wayward-walker

Here comes the smoulder

Good food is like music you can taste

I’m surrounded by idiots- @grace-for-sale

It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past

The thing is I’m not scared anymore

I know what you were ‘imagining’

Did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals- @impalaimagining

Today is a good day to try

It’s kind of fun to do the impossible

Look at this stuff, isn’t neat?

What can I say except you’re welcome?

You’re weird, but I like you

I never look back darling, it distracts from the now

Have courage and be kind

Are you sure this water is sanitary?

I wouldn’t have nothing if I didn’t have you

You are more than what you have become- @lifelovelaughangell123

It’ll turn out all right in the end, you’ll see.

You should learn to control your temper- @multi-fandom-imagines8

I would rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you- @samsbeecharmer

People always do crazy things when they’re in love- @fromthedepthsofmel

tagging my usual tags: @impalaimagining @thisisnowmylife-gdi @sammyneedsadog @hetaliameow @myfand0msandm0re @justjessiehere @pinknerdpanda @grace-for-sale @goldenolaf25 @high-functioning-sociopath8 @authoressskr @waywardasfudge @iliketowrite02 @cassieraider

[makerkenzie]

Endgame ships

For the sake of further transparency, I’m going to tell you all what I expect for the endgame relationships of ASOIAF/GOT. These are not what I “ship,” specifically, these are what I think GRRM has planned for the series.

If you’ve followed my blog at all, you know I am a regular proponent and defender of Jaime/Brienne. It is known. This is THE big slow-burn ship of ASOIAF. It is the most emotionally resonant, politically significant romance in the series. It is the only endgame-viable relationship involving two POV characters. House Lannister has a future because Jaime loves Brienne and she loves him.

Right? That’s hardly news, coming from me.

Next up! SanSan. I don’t “like” this ship. I still think it’s happening. Granted, it’s been much better-foreshadowed in the books, while the show has let it go totally invisible since the end of Season 2. That doesn’t mean it’s not happening on the show. Just means D&D think it doesn’t call for much more development than it’s already had. Sandor is now headed for Winterfell, which is where Sansa is! Season 8 will see them reconnect.

Also! Arya/Gendry. Again, no mention of their connection since Season 3 on the show, but it’s still happening. Gendry’s headed to Winterfell! Arya will be happy to see him.

Sam/Gilly. Yep, the more I think about it, the more I think this is viable for the endgame. Sam can’t very well be held to his Night’s Watch vows if there is no Night’s Watch at the end, and Sam seems like one of the most likely survivors of the series. He’s already met the love of his life, she’s gone so far as to name her baby for him. They might as well make it work.

Edmure/Roslin. Not the most auspicious start to a marriage, but she seems to genuinely like him, and they already have a kid together, so, assuming Edmure survives, he can make it work with Roslin. I don’t think he’ll be especially powerful, but he can Roslin can still be together.

Davos...will hopefully get back to his wife? The show is basically acting like Lady Mariya doesn’t exist, but it hasn’t given him an alternate romantic interest, either, so I’ll assume his marriage is still viable. 

I don’t think any of the Three Heads of the Dragon will die, per se. I’m squishy on a ‘ship for Tyrion, but I think he should survive, I like to think he will survive, and he can work together with Jaime on cleaning up their father’s mess.

Jon/Dany is important for the short-term, but it’s not built to last. The realm has already suffered quite enough upheaval stemming from Targ inbreeding, thanks. A child and grandchild of Aerys II, having babies together? Seven Hells, no. 

I think Jon’s endgame will be that he basically becomes the new Night’s King, but his strategy is to keep the White Walkers contained in the True North where they can’t threaten humanity. It’s not really death, but it’s not life. It’s the logical conclusion for a good guy who’s already died once. If he were meant to die for real, he wouldn’t have had the fake-out death. If he were meant to have a normal life, he wouldn’t have needed to be resurrected. He gets the bittersweet, Frodo-type ending.

This is the part where y’all’re gonna think I’ve lost the plot, but here goes:

I think Dany will survive, and she will be the mother of at least one living, human child. She will not sit the Iron Throne. There will be no Iron Throne at the end; Dany will be Princess of Dorne. Dany’s child(ren) will not be Jon Snow’s issue; she’ll be married to Jorah Mormont. 

First I’ll explain: why Dorne?

I think Dany will survive, and her survival will be relevant to the endgame, but there will be no Iron Throne and if there is, Dany won’t be on it. 

Why not Dany as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms? Why not Dany married to Jon?

I am aware of GRRM noting that the interaction of Jon and Dany is basically the whole point of the series. I respect that, and I think the combination of Jon and Dany is necessary to save humanity from the Snow Zombies. He has NOT said the whole point of the series is to institute a restoration of the dangerously inbred Targaryen regime. He did NOT say the point is to vindicate the ravings of Dany’s vicious, paranoid, incompetent big brother. 

Another thing GRRM has shown us is that resurrection doesn’t let you just pick up where you left off. Coming back from death comes at a price. If Jon were meant to have a happily-ever-after with his pretty young aunt, he wouldn’t have been killed before he met her.

So! If Dany lives long enough to have a kid (and I think she will), but not with Jon (please no) and isn’t meant to sit the Iron Throne (nope), then what’s her long-term job? 

Dany is a leader in need of a position. Dorne is a province in need of a ruler. The Martells & Sand Snakes are burning themselves out trying to get their dragon. The attempt to arrange a Targ restoration and bring down the Lannisters gets them neither. In their determination to punish the family that wronged them, they end up destroying the rest of their own family, and they do not put a Targ in charge of the realm. Also, Dany is named after an earlier Targ princess who married into the Martells. The bittersweet part for Dany is that she ends up cleaning up the Martells’ mess.

Aaaaaand...that leaves Jorah Mormont. It’s like SanSan; I don’t “like” it, but I’m confident this is the story GRRM is telling. 

The reason why I think Jorah is the most viable endgame partner for Dany is basically this question: What exactly is Jorah doing in the story? We love to joke about him being perpetually stuck in the Friend Zone, but what is the narrative purpose of him spending such a long time in that place? 

Plenty of ink has already been spilled on Jorah being such a shithead. He had to get the heck outta Dodge because he sold men into slavery, and he doesn’t seem to think he did anything wrong aside from being caught, and he’s inappropriately interested in 14-year-old Dany because she resembles his ex-wife, and he’s such an entitled piece of shit with no redeeming qualities. 

Except...he’s been banished by Dany, and later captured by slavers. He sold men into slavery? Now he’s had the experience of being enslaved. He treated Dany inappropriately? Now she has all the power and he knows it. He’s building his life around getting another chance to serve her. 

Then maybe the answer is that Jorah’s role in the story is to show us the journey from entitled POS to repentant, humble servant. Maybe? He’s not a POV character, though. The journey from the guy who sold men into slavery to the guy who had to escape from slavery would be more effective if Jorah got to tell his story in his own words. Instead, we only see Jorah from Dany’s and Tyrion’s POVs. Through all his misadventures, he’s STILL dedicated to serving his dragon queen. 

The reason why he’s spending so much time in the Friend Zone (urgh) is that he will eventually get the girl he wants. His narrative purpose is to be there at the end when all of Dany’s other partners have died or disappointed her. Does that make him her last choice? It’s not like Dany wouldn’t still have plenty of options for marriage. Jorah’s the one who’s there for her for the long haul. He has to put a lot of work into being a good enough man to be in Dany’s life, and he keeps on shedding his sense of entitlement until he’s the one she wants after all. 

There’s a reason why, in Season 7, Jon gets that uneasy look when Dany embraces Jorah. There’s a reason why the camera made sure to focus on Jon’s uneasy look when Dany embraces Jorah. Jon can tell Dany feels some kind of way about Jorah, and that matters. For the same reason, it also matters when Jon bonds with Jorah during the wight hunt. They’re choosing to be allies rather than rivals. When Jorah advises Jon to pass Longclaw on to his children after him, the irony is that Jorah is the one who’ll have those children. 

[ecotone99]

[HR] "Justice" By Zephyr Melynk

I watch the smoke of my cigarette slowly float up, mixing with the wet smell of the city skyline. It’s raining, not heavily but it's still not letting up, it's perfect. The rain is amazing, the smells it draws up from the ground, the sound of each drop hurling against thick, even the wet feel of rain running down your face and soaking your clothes. The rain is nostalgic, it reminds me of Tess, we used to love rainy days. We’d stay inside reading our books or telling majestic stories of make believe only to venture outside under the cover of our back patio, protected by the rain but still enjoying its company. Tess really helped, the rain used to bring me down, it used to depress me but Tess made me see the beauty in it. Rain is just part of the ups and downs of life, truly magnificent. I'm doing this for Tess, at least that’s how I started, I don’t know who I do it for anymore, but I’ve come this far can I really stop? It’s been so long since I’ve looked in the mirror, I’m not sure I’d recognize who I am anymore, yet I still move forward. I must move forward, or else everything I’ve done it will all be for naught. Do I do this for Tess, or for myself, I do not know. I have stared into the abyss for too long and have no choice but to continue. Here I go. Through the rooftop access as quiet as possible, the door’s still left ajar from the last man who came up through. He didn’t even make a sound, I don’t even know if he was evil, but he had to go. If he was here then he had to go. The stairwell is dimly lit, the single bulb illuminates most but not all of the corridor. Its rough drywall, a hastily done job, there is the occasional plywood coverup. This building is old, and has been put through its fair share of stress. It’s ok, it will all be over soon, I'll cleanse you of your sins. Sins you have not committed, yet they still must be cleansed. Another bulb illuminates cigar smoke, the thick rancid billowy smoke, one man smokes as another stands by him. They are stuck in an apathetic conversation, one about pain, others pain and the joy they felt from inflicting it. A woman, someone who had fallen prey to their suffocating hands, after her immediate use was fulfilled they quickly disposed of her. The one man talked about it with gee, as if he was a kid on christmas day, ignorant to the suffering he has caused. His shirt was splattered with an ambiguous stain, he was holding a pistol with pride. As if that pistol was a badge, showing that he had proven himself, that he was a man. He looked more like a demon to me, a hell walker, one who had come over from another plane and taken the form of a man, without the remorse or empathy that humans are capable of. His friend was disinterested but not disgusted, he was older, he had seen a multitude more then his younger counterpart. He no doubt had committed atrocities worse than the young man could imagine, but with time the young man would come to learn and respect the origin of his partner's jadedness. Soon after the retelling of the rape and murder of the poor young woman, the reaccounting of every little gorey detail, how he reveled in the fear her eyes conveyed. How after a failed attempt to shut her up he stomped twice on her jaw, crushing it, making her incapable to speak or scream. How the only sounds outside the forceful entry and reentry of his penis was the muffled soggy cries she pitifully let slide out. His excitement built towards the end of his story, with every detailed explanation of invasion and force his energy picked up. He was ecstatic by the end, almost jumping with sadistic joy. He was so happy to tell his partner that she was just wearing a school skirt and blouse, that she was just walking home from a late night studying, that her student ID said she was only sixteen years old, that in three days she turned seventeen That after it all was done he dumped the body down near the industrial park and mailed her wallet home, complete with a thank you note and a severed finger. That man, no animal, had to be put down. He was first, he needed to die. As I slunk between the shadows of flickering wall mounted lights I kept telling myself that he was first. Yet as I kicked in his partners knee, collapsing it sideways, then turned to lunge at his throat my mind changed. In that instant, where the crippled man howled out in pain grabbing his knee, and the young tough man started to crumble. I saw it in his eyes first, a scared look, a look that screamed no, please no. A look he had undoubtedly seen before, the look that he reveled in from his victims. I knew he had to suffer, he had to wait before I allowed him the sweet release of death. A sucker punch and leg sweep dropped him flat on his back. From there I placed a swift kick to his jaw, as my foot connected his jaw swung violently away from his face, tearing the tendons that held it in place. I followed with a stomp to his throat, crushing his windpipe, any hope he had to scream was now gone. With the disgusting demon of a man choking on his own blood trying desperately to breathe I turned my attention to his partner. Another kick, connecting with his head, pinned it between my foot and the thin drywall. What followed was his head crashing through the drywall only to be stuck. The door handle jingled, they knew I was here now, all the better they see what fear looks like. The door was being pushed open, I jumped. Kicking with both feet against the door to slam it shut back in the face of whoever was on the other side, I heard an exasperated grunt. I must have hit him square on the face. Pushing backwards off the door I swung out and struck the light bulb, engulfing the approximately four meters around the door in darkness. With a moment's reprise I grabbed the gun of the once proud psycho. Putting four shots into the door, aimed for center mass, I heard another scream. I gave one more quick stomp on the sicko’s knee before turning my boot towards the door. A loud crash followed my four shots as I kicked right at the lock, knocking the door on top of whoever I just shot. Three more men, one armed the other two are suits. There’s also a girl, a young one, no older than eight. I drop, placing a shot on the armed man's firing arm, it connects, ripping through his shoulder as blood gesiers backwards. My next shot hits the light, darkness swallows the room as glass shards fly everywhere, I'm sorry little one. The dim light from the hallway is all I need. Another shot, this time between the eyes, drops the guard. As his body slumps I move towards the suits. I shoot one in the foot, following it up by sweeping his legs. The other tries to run, I give two shots to his legs, collapsing him on top of the door. Now as I stand overtop a rush of endorphins washes over me. I drop my gun and turn on the man, using my fists to pulverize him, I don’t let up, my barrage of fists aimed at his head, neck and chest. I want to make him hurt. I grab his head to bash it against the floor, slowly pressing my thumbs deep into his eyes till I hear a juicy popping sound, the affirmation that he cannot see me anymore. I stand looking for my next target, but before I move on I kick at his head and place one last stomp upon his neck. Through his screams I hear faint crying, I then notice the origin of the sounds. The girl, she's terrified, she’s trying to muffle her screams and tears as not to incite my attention. I step closer to her but as I do she struggles fruitlessly to get away from me, the rope binding her makes it near impossible. I realize that she's at my mercy, who have I become. I turn back around to finish off the sick dogs that are her captors. The other suit is trying to crawl away, over top of his guard, over top the door, trying so hard and failing. I take a moment to enjoy my view, before I grab his fat pungent neck. Lifting his head I smash his face forward onto the door, over and over, and over again. With each slam his pleas for mercy get quieter, until the only sound i hear is the squishy, pulpy sound of spewing viscera. The occasional bone fragment makes a sharper sound but still only the beautiful sounds of pulp. The gooey residue creates a stringy connection between the man's face and the shattered door. Next I stomp the still unconscious man pinned beneath his fat boss, I stomp his head until there's nothing more than a puddle of bone chunks and grey matter, I even stomp after that. I stomp until there's a dent in the floor. They all deserve to die, they had their chance in life and they squandered it, now I must remove them. I must send them back to the hell their miserable, disgusting selves crawled out of. Two more left, the best decision, who to save for last. I already know, but I pretend I don’t. I get out there and ask who wants to live, I started with the older gentleman, asking him what makes life special, and why I should spare him. Betweening delightful sobs he managed to choke out a pitiful plea of mercy, how he was just trying to survive in this harsh world. How it was only circumstance and he wasn't a bad person. Next I asked his jawless buddy, I asked and waited for a response. Feigning that I couldn’t hear him, I could, it just wasn't english with his broken jaw and all. I could tell he was begging as hard as his broken body could, I could see it in his eyes. Those eyes, they pleaded with me, they begged me, those eyes held fear for maybe the first time. My patience was getting thin with his lack of verbal response, so I told him, I told him that he must speak up if he wants to live. Slowly I stood, raising my boot to end him. As my boot was at its highest I paused, to revel in his fear before turning and striking my boot down against the older man. Striking his head and chest repeatedly, until the bones had shattered, his heart popped, his blood drained and his soul cleansed. With a gleeful look I turned back to the last guard, the jawless once proud monster turned into a fumbling baby. As I kneeled across his chest I allowed myself to enjoy every minute of torture that I inflicted. Twisting his arms till they broke, asking if it hurt. Using his own knife to peel back his scalp, asking if that hurt. I carved a heart into his chest, and all the while I asked, does it hurt or does it feel good. Does the suffering you once caused feel good, to feel justice served back upon yourself. It's an amazing feeling. Soon enough as my fun came to a close, I turned my attention to his chest, listening to his struggling heart beat, trying to maintain all his blood loss. I decided to help, It must be tiring pumping so much all by itself. Turning my fists towards his chest cavity, I beat and beat and beat until eventually after many broken bones and torn muscles it caved. I could reach my fingers into his chest, to grab a hold of his ribs from the inside. With great force and a disgustingly satisfying snap I tore open his chest, ribs and all. Reaching in I grabbed his quickly slowing heart, pulling it from his chest as I looked him in the eyes, and as life faded from his eyes I squeezed his heart until it exploded. That poor girl, she's almost Tess's age. Tess was ten, she would have been twenty one last week, but she was ten when she was taken. Taken by monsters like these. As my thoughts of Tess boiled over into an amalgamation of twisted emotion I lost control, I started violently beating the carcasses I lay atop of. I held no remorse for the already dead, I had nothing left to lose. I beat that body until there was nothing left. My hands were broken, my fingers snapped, sticking out in directions they really out to not. I couldn’t tell what blood was mine. The fine paste that covered my hands was indistinguishable, was it blood? viscera ? bone? It all looked the same to me. As I was slowly losing myself the girl came back into my head, I had to help her. Stepping towards her I could hear the struggled breathing of one last man, the sightless suit. He lay there unable to see, hardly able to breathe and incapable of movement, I made sure of that. I gave one last twist to his wrists and ankles, shattering the many tiny bones within. From there I pushed his knees and elbows in, turning him into some freakish abstract art piece, an abstract piece of meat furniture. Lastly I yanked on his Shoulders, pulling them out of their sockets. I thought of removing his hips from their home but I knew he wouldn’t survive, he had to survive, to live through the same pain that he has caused countless others. Turning my last remaining energy towards the girl. My fingers moved to undo my belt as I addressed her “Hi Tess, I missed you. Come to poppa, he’ll take good care of you”

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