#its okay to not be okay headers

[deepseaatrocity]

part of something

[skitskatdacat63]

Monaco 2010[☆]

[istherewifiinhell]

were back to our (ir)regularly scheduled bullshit!

[ID: Splash page with the issue title and creative credits. Megatron is bound up in cables, some plugged into him, effecting repairs. He speaks: Remind me to thank you when i get down from here, Shockwave. Meanwhile, resumption of my command must begin now. Shockwave: You don't seem to understand. These autobots you see lying dead on the ground are there because I put them there. The Decepticons you see barely clinging to life are in that operating mode because of you. Until I intervened, Autobot victory over us was assured.* The evidence says your leadership was faulty, Megatron. Logic says I must assume command of the Decepticons. Editor's Note: *as seen in issue 8 END]

back to the USmarvel, The New Order, issue no. 5! (22-23 UK reckoning) from feb 1985!

Script: Bob Budiansky Art: Alan Kupperberg Letters: Rick Parker Colour: Nel Yomtov Editor: Jim Owsley EiC: James Shooter Digital Re-master by Digikore Studios Limited. Collection Edits by Justin Eisinger and Alonzo Simon. Editorial notes and assistance by Mark. W. Bellomo

now... welcome back digital re-master. just in time for me to rip you a new on... bare with my folks...

so this issue opens with new king bitch in town, shockwave, conducting research into humans via television. so uh.., they put honeymooners in my transformers comic?

[ID: Both images of a Full page B&W illustration, two men stand behind a table, one asking "Whatsa matter Ralphie-boy?" Ralph, staring wide eyed, dead ahead, grips a chair saying "Homina-Homina-Homina!" A woman looks in through a window, with a scowl. 1. The illustration uses blocked inks, and half-tones for the characters, but the background and objects have mid and dark halftones added in an almost painterly fashion. 2. The art now with most of the tones and shading removed, everything left either black, midtone, or stark white. END]

surely. one of these images is higher definition. but which one looks BETTER? now its possible this is actually about which master copies they were working from. perhaps a rights issues? (the uk printing replaces this page with a different image) but i note here ALSO. they removed the artist, Kupperberg's, signature form the bottom left corner. a hateful affair all told.

though, this doesnt just piss me off to see an artist works edited, and made to SUCK! (tho boy does it...) my friends... comrades, fellow bloggers. lend me your eyes. DO they see this the way mine do? cause ill eat my fucking hat if that's not DUOSHADE paper. the infamous medium of many a B&W indie. not familiar? check out my previous blogging on the friendly neighbourhood martial reptiles. but i digress.

if this. this INSULT to my very being wasnt enough. they also recoloured shockwave from a perhaps accidentally stunning shade of magenta to a cool lavender... which i personally just found quite boring. well. most of the time

[ID: 1. UK printing, Shockwave seated on throne like seat, coloured very warm toned purple. He listen to a sports broadcast and says "These humans are even more primitive than I thought." 2. Digital remaster, Shockwave's profile visible, coloured red, as he watches a news reporter. END]

the very first image of this post has another, red shockwave, btw. I suppose, they could be printing or colouring errors, but they could also be lighting/compositional choices by Yomtov (its not uncommon for his foreground characters to be done in monotone, particularly, purple) either way they corrected for it. and to me, this instance just comes of that whatever work flow being used, doesnt even flag the second figure AS shockwave, so a redwave remains...

i stress. i never blame any individual who does this work. its to them, just a job, and why should it not be? my ire is with IDW, and why they enact these "restorations" anyway, and why the fuck people ought to pay new money for old art that has been given so little respect...

anyway reading the print version meant a lot of tabbing between the us and uk printings. which is why i noticed this

[ID: The crediting for the colourist, Nel Yomtov. In the US printing the say "Colors" and in the UK "Colour", the S removed, and a U added. END]

im just amused by the effort taken... surely the kids dont care that much? and yes apparently they do this every time.

JEEZE CREESY WHO CARES. LETS SEE SOME ROBOTS

[ID: Shockwave watching the news, off panel dialogue Reporter: Ms. Beller, you have been called a computer genius even though you're only a few years out of high school. What is your role in this? Beller: It's true I designed the secondary and tertiary oil recovery systems Reveal of Beller, a very young looking woman in a jacket and a hard hat. She continues: --the semi-automated defense system, the refinery's non-polluting digitized micro-scrubbers. But I consider it all just a part of my job. END]

shockwave learns the alarming news that a new female character is being introduced!

[ID: 2 page spread, the bodies of almost every single introduced Autobot are hanging from the ceiling, damaged and "bloodied". Shockwave scrolls under them, saying "Indeed" END]

also. check this shit out

anyway WHATS going on between shockwave and megs?

[ID: Shockwave pointing to the still bound Megatron: You will explain now how you permitted our position to deteriorate so drastically, Megatron. Megatron, mostly off panel: As… Commander… it is your right to demand anything of me. It is my privilege to oblige. END]

OH. its like that huh?

[ID: Shockwave offpanel "--Should logic so dictate." A close on Megatron, he thinks "Talk, Shockwave..." A close on his repairing hand twitching "...talk while you still can!" END]

well maybe not for long...

anyway... turns out the WAS a reason we saw ratchet helping those EMT's

[ID: Ratchet driving into the hospital parking lot. Buster calls out "Ratchet!!" who responds "Greetings, Buster Witwicky how nice to see your carbon-based face again!" Buster asks "Ratchet, where've you been?" END]

I hope your all ready to become extremely endeared by ratchet, or else just put up with it. cause...

[ID: Buster and Ratchet, still in alt mode, continue to speak, while EMTs are searching for the source of this mysterious voice. Buster: If they attacked the Autobots they should all be broken-down junk-heaps by now! Ratchet: Wonderful! I knew your father was a human we could trust EMT 1: I'll look behind the grill, Mel! EMT 2: I'll check under the seat cushion, Gus! Four people react in shock as Ratchet shouts: Do you organic creatures mind? I don't go poking around your mouths to see how you talk, do I? END

my beloved....

[ID: Ratchet on the road, stopped at a red light, as Buster rides inside. Ratchet: Listen, friend traffic signal, we're in a hurry, so if you could please turn green… Buster: It doesn't hear you, Ratchet, it's only a machine. Ratchet: I'm a machine, and I hear you, Buster! Buster: Yes, but you're different, you're-- Inside view as the light turns green. Ratchet: Ahh, he changed! Thank you, friend traffic signal. May the rest of the day find you in proper working order. You see, Buster, you have to learn how to talk to people. Buster: I… I'll try to keep that in mind, Ratchet. END]

this is so charming can we get corey burton and uh. well rest in peace don messick.., so just corey burton twice will do, to record his.

oh and anyone interest in timeline of when tf lore gets introduced (me... thats... mainly just me)

[ID: Shockwave points to Megatron: As always, you underestimate Optimus Prime, Megatron. No, he will not be cut up into wires and microchips. His value is far greater to us if we keep him functional, for it is logical to assume that an Autobot of his stature contains within him--The Creation Matrix! Megatron thinking: By the divine weld! The Creation Matrix is the computer program that allows its possessor to construct new transformer life! Its power is the stuff of legends! Shockwave continues: It is said once every ten millenia a new Autobot leader is chosen and encoded with The Matrix. END]

MATRIX MENTION? everyone have their lore bibles out? someone WRITE THAT DOWN.

[ID: Buster stumbling through the Ark in shock, "N-no… it can't be true! There must be some explanation! There must be! Wait a second… I didn't see Optimus in there…there's still optimus… there has to be--" He walks into a room with Optimus Prime's severed head, plugged into grand machinery. Buster yells "--Optimus!" Prime, weakly: Buster Witwicky… You must help me… you are… the Autobots… last hope…" End card-- Next: Oil Rig Assault! END]

OH MY GOD!

[steelycunt]

i think the closest thing r has to a sisyphean task actually is probably how everyday he enacts the full crucifixion of jesus with himself as jesus and also as the romans and he nails himself to the cross and then every evening before he can die everyone who knows him comes and takes him down off the cross and they go why did you nail yourself to that cross. no one told you to do that there was literally no reason for you to do that. everyone saw you drag that cross here yourself and then nail yourself to it um why did you do that. and thus the next day he is forced to enact the full crucifixion of jesus with himself as jesus and also as the romans and he nails himself to the cross and then every evening before he can die everyone who knows him comes and takes him down off the cross and they go w

[noadore]

Just found out that my artstyle looks different by using other mediums and materials wtf

[the-acid-pear]

I got reminded the Lacey's series exists and it really left me confused because... People love and praise that but hate on The Painter?

I want to say it's just bias because Lacey's is very well done style wise (the painter has great art but weak presentation), but Lacey's is pure fucking shock content w little substance. That's why I always hated it. And I still do. It's not even surprising.

And it a way it's fitting for it bc it has that strong 2010s/2000s vibes and horror back then was just like that lmao look at any old creepypasta but it's still edgy as shit.

And I don't want this to be me complaining about that series bc that's not my point what I'm complaining about is how I don't understand how the internet ADORED one but hated the other for arguably the same reasons.

But I also want to complain so see y'all in the tags 👍

[muirneach]

atp making daniil and andrey record that video but not inviting karen is sick and twisted. what about karen he’s been with those two idiots for just as long :(

[antihibikase-archive]

Changed the angel-of-aspertia url to prettyboy225 because

[baeshijima]

theme change bc im going through an existential crisis at 12 am

[painsandconfusion]

Found

Shelter - Part 1

(tw: zombies, gore, machete, rifle, familial death mention, exposed bone, blood, murder mention, eaten alive mention, manhandling, zip ties, shackle, chain, claustrophobia trigger)

[Masterpost | Next]

Icy air ripped down Nisha’s throat, threatening to cave it in - but she couldn’t just stop fucking breathing, now could she?

Bummer.

Couldn’t stop running either, the damn- FUCK FUCK FUCK SHHHHHIITTTTT SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK THAT HURT SONOFABITCH-

Nisha’s groan turned more into a growl in her breathlessness, ice still slipping under her knees, wrapped hands, and tingling feet. She grit her teeth, shoving herself back up.

Her right leg didn’t particularly approve of that course of action, trying to buckle limp beneath her.

You piece of shit, I MADE you, now WORK.

She forced it to stay straight, weight limping onto it.

Footsteps.

The rapidly crunching snow was getting closer, she could fucking swear. Only her frantic heartbeat out paced the monster’s gait as it slammed against her ribs and the inside of her skull.

Bleary eyes chanced a glance backwards as she forced herself into a lopsided jog again, ignoring the blood that leaked into her jeans. 

They were close.

Too fucking close - like 30 yards at best.

Fuck-

They were fast. 

Not quite as fast as her, but those fuckers didn’t NEED to breathe. Their muscles didn’t give up. They didn’t care if their flesh was ripped off the bone.

They just kept going.

So fucking unfair-

Her leg crumpled under her, sending her sprawling into the rosethorns bramble and shallow, sloppy snow. 

“Fffuck-”

Fuck it. Plan A = Failed. 

She tugged off her pack, unstrapping it as her eyes flicked desperately from the drawstring to the two runners coming for her. Her hands were trembling so hard, she couldn’t get her fingers into the knot. Whether that was from the cold, the exertion, or just blind fear, she didn’t want to know.

We’re going with cold. Yeahhhhhh - not scared, it’s fine. It’s fine. fuckING OPEN UP, YOU PIECE OF SH- thank you-

She ripped open the bag just in time for the zombie ass bitches to be a few strides away.

Numb hands gripped the handle of her machete as the rotting wretches took their last bounding strides toward her.

Son of a BITCH YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO DIVE OR JUMP OR SHIT - WHY CAN’T YOU BE LIKE MOVIE ZOMBIES THAT JUST FUCKING WADDLE?!?!?!

She slashed wildly at them, taking off one of their arms just below the elbow. It stumbled from the blow, slipping on the ice.

Nice. ~Nice~ ice. Friendly ice. I forgive you for fucking my ankle up now.

The second lunged at her, and the blood-spattered blade swung forward without her direction, obeying pure fear and adrenaline as it managed to miss its arm and slash almost all the way through its neck.

Fuck fuck fuck close-

It stumbled back, and she stepped forward after it, advancing as it moved. It tried to swipe at her again, but she smacked off its hand, bringing the blade down again - this time clean through the vertebrae at the neck.

The mangled, rotting thing fell to the ground, twitching and writhing. Dying.

Her breaths puffed white into the crisp air, almost blurring her view of it. I killed one. I killed a RUNNER - holy shi-!?

Her thoughts cut off with a scream as the second slammed into her. Her feet slipped and slid uselessly on the ice until it cracked against her hip and elbow, slamming jarring, ripping pain up through her bones at the impact.

Ffff-f-fucking iceeeeeee - I d-on't forgive you again-

FUCK SHIT NOW ISN’T THE TIME TO-

Nisha yelped as the runner crawled back up to her, skittering wildly through the snow.

She scrabbled backwards, trying to find the mache-fuck where did I drop it!??!

Nisha kicked frantically at the creature, jerking her boots back as its teeth snapped and gnashed at her. 

This is it - fuck I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna die-

Her scream ripped up through the trees as its hand drug down her leg, shredding the denim with sharp shards of bone, trying to still her kicking and drag her closer.

Nisha squeezed her eyes shut, teeth grit and kicking blindly up at the thing. As if that could help her.

A burst of gunpowder rang through her ears and sent distant birds flying. Blood and brains and goop splattered onto her face as the runner dropped onto her, muscles still squirming as it pinned her down with it’s dead weight.

Eyes were opening the fuck up again. Nisha shoved and kicked and scrabbled away from it, shallow, frantic breaths burning down her throat as she stared around the landscape to figure out what the fuck just happened-

A shotgun cocked, empty shell hitting the snow as a man stepped into view. Black shaggy hair and dark grey eyes. He took a step Closer.

His eyes narrowed, barrel pointed vaguely at her. “Did it get you?”

Nisha shoved herself a little further away. “..n-no. No - I think just the boot..-” She sat up fully, breaths still refusing to get under control. She tugged up the fabric of her jeans, checking the bite marks. “..no - didn’t get through the rubber. No bites.”

His eyes narrowed a little further, but he set the rifle back to default and flicked the safety on. He stepped up to her, holding out a hand. “Okay - c’mon - there’s more coming this way.”

“...fuck.” she glanced down the trail she’d run, scanning the trees for any sign of movement. Nisha hummed a groan - for distaste and agreement - then gave him her hand, wincing a squeak as he pulled her to her feet.

The man looked down over her leg. Some blood was seeping into the denim where its not-claws had bit into her. “......you…sure you’re good to walk?”

…shit shit shit he’s gonna leave me if I say no, isn’t he-

Nisha gave him a tight-lipped smile. Some kind of reassurance. “Mhm.” Well that came out squeaker than I was hoping…

The man frowned, stepping back. “Alrightyyyyyyy. Let’s go, then.”

He took a step toward the way he apparently had come, glancing back to make sure she was following.

Nisha  shouldered her pack and took a limping step after him, scooping up a handful of snow. She scrubbed it against her face, ridding her skin of the blood and brain and whatever the fuck else had just splattered on her. 

Even after dropping the snow again, her pace was slow. Hobbled.

The man sighed, stepping back up to her. He handed her the rifle, barely waiting for her to take it before scooping her up and carrying her. 

Much faster.

Nisha squeaked a little, tensing. “...uhh……th..ank you.”

He hummed in response, eyes ahead as they moved through the snow, back down the path. “My name’s Corvid. What’s yours?”

She kept a good grip on the rifle, visualizing him slipping on the ice, dropping her, and it accidentally going off- hhhhh-

“..Nisha.”

Corvin nodded down to her. “Nice to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.”

She almost smiled at that. Almost. “Yeah..same.”

He hesitated, taking a few long moments of snow crunching and silence to eventually say “...I have a bunker. Cold war shit? I don’t know, I found it and…it’s nice, and those bitches can’t get through the blast doors.”

“Oh..” Was that…..an offer…???

He sighed. “You can stay there tonight or whatever - until you’re healed enough to keep going.”

Nisha stared up at this man - not….entirely sure she could trust him?

But what was she going to do? Sit in the snow and wait for the rest of the runners - or heck, even walkers - to show up and rip her apart?

She gave a hesitant nod. “..that would be….really really good.” Pause. “....thank you.”

Corvid flashed a smile down to her. “It’ll be good - I have the finest entertainment. Vintage chutes and ladders board. Very high quality shit.”

She did smirk at that. “Haven’t played that since I was a kid. Though I’ve played so much solitaire lately I think anything else would be a welcome change.” 

“Ooooo you got a deck of cards?” He seemed to have relaxed a lot. Guard down. “Been a minute since I found any of those.”

Nisha nodded. “They’re pretty worn, but yeah. They keep me company.”

Corvid frowned. “...all on your own, then?”

The smile dripped away. “..yeah. My mom got bit last year. It’s just been me since then.”

“..I’m sorry to hear that.”

She hummed, throat clearing before any emotions could deign to creep into her voice. “How about you?”

He shrugged softly. “I never was able to find my friends after this shit broke out. Been on my own ever since.” 

..that must suck. 12 years??? Alone?? Fuck, that sound wretched.

“..I’m sorry, that sounds…..bad.”

He sputtered a laugh. “I mean yeah, it’s not exactly a spa trip, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t have been even with those dicks with me. So I’m not complaining too much.”

Nisha hummed in agreement. “The whole world’s fucked. Makes sense.”

She could hear a river rushing nearby as he set her on her feet again - a wash of empty hissing sound. She gripped his shoulder for support as she found her balance, then handed him the rifle ag-

Nnnnnope he’s already stepped away.

She clutched it a little closer, frowning as he reached into the brush, pulling at a bush-

Oh shit, a SECRET trap door….well that’s kinda cool…

The door pulled up, sticks and brush and leaves coming up with it and resting against a tree trunk. 

Stairs lie beneath it, descending into darkness.

Corvid took a step down, bracing the door as he held a hand out to her. “Cmon - it’s not this sketchy inside, I promise.”

Nisha frowned over it, taking a wincing step forward. Her eyes darted back the way they came. ..not like I have a choice here. So….suuuuuuurrreeeeeeeeeee let’s just go down into the very reinforced and isolated space with the strange man. That sounds like a great idea.

She stared at his hand a good couple seconds before taking it with a soft “thanks”. She stepped - a little shakily - onto the first stair.

Another.

Then another.

Down down down.

Darker with each step.

Nisha swallowed thickly, holding the rifle close as she continued down even after he closed the door, letting them into darkness. This is stupid. I’m being stupid. I’m just on edge from the fuckin zombies, this is fine.

But the stupid alarm bells wouldn’t quit going off in her head.

Then again…they never really did, nowadays.

“Okay, careful, there’s a-” A thonk echoed in the small space as she hit the bottom of the stairs a little sooner than expected, stumbling into the wall. 

“...you found it.” There was a smirk in his voice.

Warm hands slipped around her waist, guiding her to the side as he stepped around her. Her skin crawled at the touch, but she stepped gratefully out of the way, letting him blindly find what apparently sounded like a lock (???) with a key. Scraping, then clicking, then turning…something?? Ambient metal noises, Nisha doesn’t fucking know, stop asking her what they are.

The door pulled open, and she was washed in a wave of warmth. It tangled through her clothes and pressed against her shuddering skin, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. “...you…….do..do you have heat??”

Corvid chuckled, stepping away. Lights flickered on, uncovering the compact but alarmingly pristine bomb shelter. Cabinets, counter, shelves full of canned food and bags of what she assumed to be rice, shower, toilet - presumably more around the curve of the wall. Likely a bedroom area??

“Toldja it was nice.”

She stepped inside, staring around in wonder as he pulled the thick iron door closed behind her and rolled the latch into place - a giant bolt attached to a wheel on a gear. Heavy duty.

“...h….how..???”

He shrugged, leaning against the door. “River nearby. Hydropower and wind energy. I make all my own electricity and store the excess in batteries. Works well.”

She stepped further into the space, still gaping around at the…well….everything??

“....holy shit-”

Corvid laughed again, kicking off his shoes. “I have hot water, too. It’s only as clean as the river is, but it’s pretty clear. I purify it for drinking water of course. But - point is - if you wanna take a hot shower, now’s the time.”

She turns to blink at him. “...wait what - seriously???”

He rolled his eyes, amused. “For sure, go for it. I had a roommate for a minute before he…” He trailed off, a frown shadowing his eyes. He turned to grab a can off the shelf. “..anyways..he’s not…around anymore - think he was about your size, so I’ll set a change of dry clothes out for you. Might as well wash yours too while you’re here. Not like I’m gonna run out of water or something.”

Nisha sagged in relief, crouching to unlace her shoes, too. Matching him. “That…thank you - seriously, thank you.” 

He turned a warm smile to her. “Not a problem - it’s just nice to have company for a little while.”

He set the jar near the stove and moved to fill a pot with water from a pitcher in the fridge. He set that on the stove too, then turned the burner on. “I’ll show you where things are and can get started on supper while you’re cleaning up.”

She couldn’t help but melt a little. The cold had long seeped into her bones and she was grimey…well….everywhere. A shower didn’t seem like mana from heaven right now, it seemed like a fucking 5-course Michelin-star restaurant from heaven. With wine. “That sounds so good, thank you.”

Corvid laughed a little, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hinge of the door. He nodded for her to follow as he slipped down the hall, patting at things as he went. “Toilet here - sorry it’s a little exposed, we work with with we got - shower here-” He pulled back the curtain. “Use whatever soap, I really don’t care, I just scavenge what I can for that.” He kept talking as he rummaged through the first drawer across from the shower, pulling out a t-shirt, boxers, and cargo pants. “I thiiiiink these should fit you? I dunno, good enough for now.” He snagged a folded towel off the shelf and set the clothes on top of it, holding out the stack for her. “I’m gonna assume you’re not vegetarian or something?”

She shook her head, taking the clothes happily. They’re so fucking clean - how are they so clean- “Nope, I’m good with literally anything you have.”

Corvid grinned, skipping back around to the kitchenette. “Cool - I’m gonna make the shittiest stirfry you’ve ever had.” 

She laughed a little, setting her pack to the side and stepping into the shower and turning on the water. …he said it would be h-OH FUCK YUP THATS WARM- “As long as it’s food, it’s probably gonna be the best shit I’ve had in years.” She stripped off her blood, muck, and grime covered clothes and stepped into the stream. 

Shiiitttttttttttt that feels good- Nisha could feel her muscles unwinding under the heat, skin then flesh then bone gradually coming back up to temp over the next ten minutes or so - she was too afraid to waste more electricity than that. She scrubbed and washed and literally even conditioned - Who the fuck has conditioner out here???? She wasn’t going to question it too much, she was too busy enjoying this.

By the time Nisha got done, dried off, and re-dressed into the warm, dry clothes, the whole shelter was warm with garlic, soy sauce, and goodness knows what else. 

She stepped out of the little space, looking over Corvid stirring everything in a large pot - frying a little inefficiently, but fucking good enough. Not like anyone had a wok in a space this small, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to complain. 

He turned a bouncy smile to her - she hadn’t even realized he’d been humming softly until he stopped. “Feeling a little better?”

“Definitely.” Nisha stepped closer, still scrubbing at her wet hair with the towel. She peeked around him into the pot. “What all’s in that?” 

He shrugged, poking at the steaming rice. “Rice, a couple kinds of meat, canned veggies from last Summer - I have a garden and can everything I can.”

“Well it looks fucking fantastic.” 

His smile warmed. “Sure hope it tastes that way.” He nodded to a bin behind her. “You can toss the towel and old clothes in there. I’ll wash them in a bit.”

Nisha murmured a quick “got it,” before turning to it and dumping everything inside.

Corvid dumped a few scoops of the stirfry into bowls and stepped through a cut out of the wall to the part she assumed was a sleeping space. She followed, a little surprised to find a small living room and dining room area. Cramped, sure, but still nice. “...shit, how much do you have going on here??” 

He set the bowls down on the table, putting forks next to them. “More than enough.”

Nisha glanced around, looking for the bedroo- Oh, there,

She poked her head into the next room over to see where the b-...

Her mind cluttered to a stop as her eyes fell on a mostly empty room. There was another past it with a bit of bed showing through the door, but the space between them was…almost nothing but air.

Just the chain on the ground, drilled into the wall. The single shackle pristine as the rest of the bunker.

“I got the TV set up t..-“ Corvid’s sentence trailed to a stop as he saw her looking through the doorway.

“Hm.” He abandoned the food, taking a step closer to her, smile fading. “I was hoping we’d at least get through supper before you saw that.”

Nisha turned back to him, much paler now. Her eyes darted to the gap in the wall that would lead her to the outside door.

“…what is that for?” Her voice sounded so much more confident than she felt.

He shrugged, hands slipping into his pockets. “Toys.”

Nisha stepped toward the door, ready to break for it once she was p-

He stepped to the side, blocking her path with a soft smirk.

Nisha’s breath stuttered to a stop as her feet sent her back a few stumbling steps back toward the empty room. Through the frame.

“…I can..I’ll just go.”

His smile grew a little as he took a step closer, forcing her further back toward the chain. “But you’re hurt. What kind of man would that make me?”

Her stomach squirmed as she shied further away form his advance. “I…I’ll be fine, jus-“

“You’re not leaving, Nisha.” Another step. Into the room with her.

She made a break for it, trying to shove past him. She threw her elbow up at his face to knock him out of the way, but irongripped fingers bit down into her arm, shoving her back.

In a few moments of scrambling and thrashing - a spattering of yelps and screams that echoed in the small space - she was on her stomach, arm wrenched tight behind her back, and Corvid’s knee bruising into her spine. Her breaths creaked against ribs, shallow and tight. “Gggfetoff me-“

The chain clattered across the ground toward her, pulled by limp and bored fingers.

Icy metal bruised and cut against her leg as she kicked at it, but it clamped around her ankle all the same, pinching skin in the hinge and ripping a scream from her mouth. 

“Just hold still and it won’t hurt so much,” he muttered, gripping her other arm and wrenching it behind her back as well.

Wrists shoved against each other, shoulders grinding in their sockets as she writhed against the cement in a pathetic attempt to pull away. “Ss-stop! Just STOP!” 

A hand clamped down over her mouth, silencing the scream that started to rip up her throat. “Stop it. This place isn’t fucking soundproof, you’re going to call them here.”

She only froze a moment before thrashing her head back and forth, another scream muffled by his hand, but stubbornly ringing through. Let me go, BITCH, and this won’t be a problem for you anymore.

His grip tightened, mouth pressing to her ear to growl out, “If you call them here, I will break you fucking legs, throw you outside, and listen to them rip you apart.”

The anger running through her cooled to icy fear, dripping through her veins and freezing her in place. 

The screams petered out to desperate, silent pants of breath.

“Thank you.” Thin plastic tickled against her skin before snaring tight around her wrists, zip tie keeping them snugly together.

He finally pulled off of her, letting her shove and skitter against the wall, kicking herself up to sitting. Nisha glared desperately at him, terror softening the rage far too much. The fear that had splattered down her temple didn’t help.

“Wh-what are you DOING!?” She squirmed further back as he took a step closer, desperately trying to melt through the wall and away from him.

He shrugged, crouching down in front of her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Nisha shoved a kick in his direction - more a warning for him to stay back than an actual attack. It neatly missed him, barely falling short. He seems amused by it, though, snorting lightly as he watched her bare heel hit the ground.

“Y-ou can’t just do this!! How much has this shit fucked you up!?!?”

He laughed softly, reaching for the leg that she quickly retracted again. “Honey, I was doing this long before the outbreak. I just don’t have to deal with feds now.”

She stared, searching his face for any trace of a lie.

She didn’t find one.

“..y…you can’t just…keep people??”

“I’m gonna do a lot more than keep you. Besides,” he stood again, wandering back toward the table, “Finders keepers.”

[Masterpost | Next]

(tags: @wormwriting @happy-little-sadist @cursedscribbles @a-whumped-tea @mirasorastone @michaeltalks @meowsika @shywhumpauthor @whumpasaurus101 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @paleassprince @heavenly-whumper)

New series new tag list, so I just took a shot in the dark as to who I should add. Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

[aauroralightss]

i made myself a little trigun sona and commissioned my best friend rae @zipsunz for art of her and her birdy sidekick… her name is josephine “jo” luu and i picture her living in a little geo dome/animal sanctuary and taking in orphans/vagabonds. she has a little crew of people and birds who she adores (and adore her) and she lives her best life for the most part.

i like to think about her meeting vw when they’re in Dire Straits and she takes them in and lets them rest up, only for trouble to fall upon the geo dome and for vw to return the favour by protecting her home. i’ll write a little oneshot for it one day but i’m nowhere near brave enough yet to post it :’)

[broke-on-books]

Microsoft Word I fucking hate you and I hope you die

[prettyboykatsuki]

how am i supposed to sleep and wait for the official release im literally hyperventilating right now.

[lyriakisser]

GOD.

[xviruserrorx]

Please people put some type of icon image and reblog things PLEASE, especially with the influx of bots it is very VERY hard to tell the difference between an actual person and a bot especially if your blog looks barren... I really don't want to accidentally report someone or block them when they are a human being who is interacting with my blog