#the builders r right.

[90s-trait]

gave an unexpected lighting upgrade to my sims home when i was moving them to willow creek

[alukaforyou]

u & ur partner draw each other challenge 🤪

this was supposed to be a little sketch but hmm i realized during this, i need to work on my coloring 😵‍💫 it never ends LOL ANATOMY PERSPECTIVE COLORS i feel like i can maybeeee paint a lil better but non-painty coloring is HARD DAM i put this pic thru like 3 filters on my phone cuz the og kinda sucked LMFAO my fault 😮‍💨 i would draw sukuna soo pretty like a bishie bl protag HEH 😏 and i think sukuna would be pretty good at drawing too i made that up in my head in canon he alr recites poetry so its similar methinks. he would draw u lovely in yamato-e style LMFAOIWJEJSJSJ aaaand check out the creamy crunchy cameo

crunchy is def a mamas boy he loves me but i think creamy might like sukuna more,,, i think she likes men LOL she sort of likes my bf n my dad so 🤔 closeup of bishie bl protag sukuna:

ugh the lips... 👁️👄👁️ i love him bye

[muchmossymess]

give me your headcanons for a minecraft server with the fmab kids

[claramelooo]

Heyy! My dear! I'm so excited for the Christmas! So, leave in the comments (or send me an anon quest, if you feel more confortable) any scenes, moments or something you really want to see between Wanda and R. Maybe Santa will realizes your desires...

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NFSW, Blood

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat fem reader

Summary: Being at Wanda's home can be very...intense.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On Your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb

VELVET CHAINS

Pure Crimson

It was a sunny afternoon, so hot that you could see the heat haze blurring the landscape. You were at Wanda's house while your parents were in Greece. Not that you minded staying away from them—you had been distant for so long that you'd forgotten what the word "family" even meant.

The days at the Maximoff household had been an emotional rollercoaster. The environment was both warm and intimidating, and you were still adjusting to the unique dynamics of that family.

Your relationship with Billy and Tommy started off hesitantly, like strangers crossing paths in neutral territory. On the first day, while Wanda was busy in the kitchen and Vision was lost in his own thoughts, you sat on the living room couch, trying to look casual as the boys played with Lego pieces scattered across the floor.

Billy was the first to break the ice, shy but curious. “Do you like Star Wars?” he asked, holding up a small Lego spaceship, waiting for a response that might bridge the gap.

“I do! But I don’t really understand spaceships. Do you?” you replied, leaning forward with genuine interest.

His face lit up with the kind of enthusiasm only kids can show. “I’m the best spaceship builder in the galaxy!” He started explaining in detail how he had constructed each part, and soon Tommy joined in, adding comments about the spaceship's imaginary speed.

The initial connection was timid but quickly grew over the following days. You realized the way to earn the twins’ trust was to genuinely care about what they loved. They didn’t need grand promises or long speeches—just someone who truly wanted to spend time with them.

On the second day, Tommy challenged you to a video game match. “Bet you can’t beat me,” he teased with a mischievous grin. You accepted the challenge, and even though you weren’t very skilled, you played with enthusiasm. Tommy laughed so hard when you pressed the wrong button and sent your character tumbling off a cliff that tears rolled down his cheeks.

“You’re terrible at this!” he exclaimed, but there was no cruelty, only joy. And when you finally managed to win a round—by sheer luck—the two boys cheered for you like you had just won a trophy.

That same day, while Wanda was baking strawberry pie in the kitchen, you decided to help Billy with a school art project about national folklore figures. He was frustrated that his drawing wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. “I’m never going to get this right,” he grumbled, nearly crumpling the paper.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect; it can be unique,” you said, picking up the pencil and showing him how to add simple details to turn what seemed like a mistake into something creative. “See? It’s all about perspective.” You gave him a bright smile, and he looked at you with genuine admiration.

A particularly vulnerable moment sealed their trust. Tommy had hurt his knee playing soccer in the backyard—a nasty scrape. While Wanda was busy elsewhere, you cleaned his wound carefully, speaking soothing words. “You’re a warrior, Tommy. This is nothing for someone as strong as you.” He smiled through his tears and held your hand as if finding strength in it.

That night, as you were getting ready for bed, Billy called out to you. “Y/n, you’re like the big sister we never had.” Tommy agreed, and the two hugged you tightly before heading to their room.

From that moment on, it was as if an invisible bond connected you to them. They sought you out for everything—from playing games to asking for advice. More than that, they embraced you as part of their lives, and you realized that, in some way, you needed them as much as they seemed to need you.

Vision, however, was a different challenge. Always polite and courteous, but there was something about his demeanor, the way his eyes seemed to analyze your every move, that left you uneasy. Perhaps it was the contrast with Wanda, whose gaze seemed to devour you, while Vision’s felt like judgment.

One afternoon, you found him in the kitchen, organizing documents in a folder while sipping coffee. When you walked in, he glanced up briefly, offering a polite but cold smile.

“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice controlled.

“Good afternoon,” you replied, unsure.

Silence quickly settled, heavy and awkward. You searched for something to say, anything to break the invisible wall.

“The boys are excited about tonight’s dinner,” you commented, referring to Billy and Tommy, who had insisted you help pick the menu.

Vision simply nodded, his expression unchanged. “They grow attached easily,” he remarked, emotionless. “Especially to people… different.”

You felt the insinuation but had no time to respond before the sound of Tommy and Billy’s hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Billy exclaimed, running up to you with a huge smile. “Look what we made!”

He showed you a colorful drawing of you, him, Tommy, and even Wanda sitting around a large dinner table. In the corner of the paper, Vision was there too, but noticeably outside the circle.

“You’re part of our family now!” Tommy said, laughing as he clung to your side.

You couldn’t help but smile. “I love it, Billy. It’s amazing!”

“It really is,” Wanda said, walking into the kitchen with an amused expression as she looked at the drawing. “It seems you’re stealing their hearts.”

Tommy hugged your waist, looking at Vision with a mischievous grin. “We love you. Are you going to live with us now?” the boy asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Tommy,” Vision said firmly.

“What?” the boy asked innocently.

You crouched down to Tommy’s height, a gentle smile on your face. “I can’t, sweetheart. I already have a home...” you replied, awkwardly trying not to stumble over your words under Vision’s intense gaze.

Tommy pouted, but Billy quickly approached with another drawing in hand. This one showed you holding what seemed to be a tray of cookies, surrounded by the twins. “This is you, taking care of us. Because you make the best gingerbread cookies in the world.”

“Billy, I just helped! You guys made the cookies,” you laughed, knowing it wasn’t true—you had done everything from the dough to the baking. The twins had only decorated, but you’d say anything to see their smiles.

“It doesn’t matter! You’re the best helper,” he declared confidently, as if it were a universal fact.

Across the room, Wanda watched the scene with a soft smile. Her eyes shifted between the twins and you, as if capturing every detail of the moment.

“It’s true, Y/n,” Wanda said warmly. “You have a way with them that even I can’t compete with.”

Tommy quickly shot back, “Of course not, Mom! We love you too. But it’s different.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as if feigning offense. “Different how, exactly?”

Billy was quick to defend. “You’re the boss of us! But Y/n makes things feel more fun.”

Wanda’s laughter filled the room, a carefree sound that seemed to brighten the entire atmosphere. She glanced at you, her eyes a mix of amusement and admiration.

Vision, however, seemed out of place. He cleared his throat, drawing the twins’ attention. “Boys, you know family is a... fixed concept. One shouldn’t create expectations based on...”

“Don’t start, Dad,” Tommy interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, we know how we feel,” Billy added firmly.

You looked at Wanda, expecting a more severe reaction, but instead, she was smiling indulgently. “They have strong opinions, Vision. Perhaps we should accept that Y/n is important to them.”

Vision hesitated, his discomfort clear, but he didn’t respond.

Tommy took the opportunity to hug you again. “So that’s it. You’re part of our family now.”

You laughed, touched by his sincerity, and looked at Wanda, who gave a small nod, as if silently confirming what Tommy had said. The warmth in your chest at that moment was indescribable but undeniably real.

Billy grabbed your hand, pulling you along. “Come on! Let’s play!”

You didn’t have a chance to resist as he and Tommy led you to the living room, leaving Vision and Wanda behind.

In the living room, the boys showed you their game cards, taught you crazy rules only they understood, and laughed until they fell over as you tried to keep up with their energy.

In the middle of the game, Tommy flopped onto the couch, tired, and looked at you with shining eyes. “You’re not leaving, right?”

“Not anytime soon,” you said, ruffling his hair.

Billy approached and gently took your hand, his expression unusually serious. “Mom has never seemed this happy before,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken weight. You looked at him and then at Tommy, your heart tightening in your chest. They were such sweet kids, their affection for you so pure and genuine that it stirred something deep within you—a mix of gratitude and protectiveness.

Moments later, Wanda appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. Her presence filled the room effortlessly, and when your eyes met hers, there was an intensity in her gaze, a possessiveness barely masked by her enigmatic smile.

“It’s good to see you all getting along so well,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“She’s the best!” Tommy blurted out enthusiastically, and Billy nodded in earnest agreement.

“Yeah. She really is,” Wanda echoed, her words laced with an edge of certainty as her eyes lingered on you. Her smile deepened, enigmatic and knowing, as though she saw something in you that even you hadn’t recognized yet.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a light, genuine sound that filled the room. A warmth spread through your chest, a comforting sense of belonging. For the first time in days, amidst all the uncertainties, it felt like you’d found your place—at least with the twins. And, perhaps, with Wanda too.

[...]

The house was silent, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall in the living room. Wanda lay on the bed, but sleep felt like an ever more distant possibility. Vision’s steady, peaceful breathing beside her only highlighted the contrast with the storm raging in her mind.

You were there. In the room next door. So close that she could almost feel your presence, like an electric current humming through the walls.

For the third time, Wanda rolled over, burying her face into the pillow, trying to convince herself not to think about you. But the harder she tried to push the thoughts away, the more vivid they became.

She could recall every detail—how you bit your lower lip in concentration while helping the boys with their homework, the laugh that made warmth bloom in her chest, the shy way your eyes met hers when you tried to mask your nervousness. It was unbearable how much you had invaded her thoughts, staking a claim on every corner of her mind as if it all belonged to you.

Wanda sighed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. This wasn’t just desire; it was something deeper, something that made her feel both vulnerable and invincible. It was a sweet yet corrosive obsession.

“Why do you do this to me?” she murmured into the darkness, her voice a whisper tinged with frustration.

Her fingers clenched the sheet as a dangerous idea began to take shape in her mind. It wasn’t unreasonable, she tried to convince herself. Just a quick check to make sure you were okay. That was perfectly justifiable, wasn’t it?

But deep down, she knew it was a lie. The truth was, your proximity was driving her mad. Every second without seeing you felt like torture. The image of you, likely curled up under the blankets, your face serene in peaceful sleep, was almost irresistible.

With a sudden motion, Wanda sat up in bed, sharp enough that Vision mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. She cast a quick glance at him, but he remained in a deep slumber. Perfect.

She knew this was dangerous, that it crossed any reasonable boundary. But you were so close, and Wanda couldn’t fight the pull anymore. Not when the thought of having you felt so… inevitable.

Quietly, she slipped out of the bedroom, her bare feet making barely a sound against the floor. She hesitated for a brief moment in front of your door, her hand hovering over the handle as anticipation and longing swirled in her chest.

When she finally opened the door, a soft, almost predatory smile played on her lips as her eyes found you.

“Wanda?” your voice was lower than you intended, almost a whisper.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she moved closer, each step heightening the tension in the room. When she reached your bedside, she leaned down, her face coming so close to yours that you could feel the warmth radiating from her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, almost a groan.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right response. Wanda’s smile deepened, but there was a hunger in it, something that made your breath catch. Before you could think, she leaned closer still, her lips brushing against yours so lightly it was almost imperceptible.

“You’re in my head,” she whispered against your mouth, her breath warm and intoxicating. “Your scent is everywhere in this house.”

The air between you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken intensity. And in that moment, everything else faded away.

Your heart raced, and you tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Wanda didn’t wait. Her lips pressed against yours—firm, demanding—and you felt the full force of her presence in that kiss.

There was urgency in her touch, a hunger that had clearly been restrained for far too long. Her hands rose to cradle your face, holding you exactly where she wanted.

You felt trapped, but it wasn’t a trap you wanted to escape. When she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, the intensity in her eyes sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“I needed that,” she murmured, her lips still so close to yours that it was hard to breathe.

“Wanda…” you began, but she silenced you with a finger against your lips. “Vision is in the next room,”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, you can think about whatever you want. But right now… right now, you’re mine.”

Before you could respond, she kissed you again, and all the tension, all the air seemed to vanish from the room.

Her lips were warm and soft, but there was more—something raw, a palpable hunger, a need that felt as if it might consume you whole. The kiss started firm but quickly deepened, turning more explorative. Her tongue brushed against yours, pulling a sigh from your throat, a sound that seemed to ignite something primal in her.

Wanda’s hands slid from your face to your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes. Your body responded instinctively, every nerve tuned to her presence. Heat pulsed through you, mingling with the adrenaline that made your heart pound in your chest.

She pulled you closer, so close you could no longer tell where you ended and she began. The urgency in her movements was intoxicating, yet there was a tenderness, a sense of restraint as if she were testing the limits.

Your hesitant hands rose to her shoulders, clutching the soft fabric of her pajamas. Wanda let out a low sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and the sheer intensity of it left your legs feeling weak, even though you were lying down.

When she finally pulled back, it was only far enough for you to catch your breath. Her eyes remained locked on yours, dark and glowing with a mix of desire and an unshakable sense of control.

You tried to speak, but your voice failed, your mind still spinning from the sensations. Wanda tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips, as if she understood exactly what she was doing to you.

“You feel it, don’t you?” she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending shivers cascading through you.

Before you could respond, she kissed you again, slower this time, almost reverent. It was as though she were leaving an imprint, marking every part of you, making herself impossible to forget.

She’s undeniably beautiful.

"Take off your clothes." She demands, and you're jolted back to reality. Her eyes pierce into yours, holding a glimmer of something you can’t quite place. You want to know more about her; you feel so off-balance. To avoid a disapproving look, you immediately take off the nightgown and wait for further instructions as she slowly walks around you.

The way the woman moves, the way she looks at you, reminds you of a panther stalking its prey. Wanda eyes you from head to toe, assessing you. She's behind you, and you can feel her gaze roaming over your body. Chills run up your arms in anticipation of what’s coming next, and the urge to turn around and face her is hard to suppress. "Lie down, Dekta. Mommy's going to take care of this."

You shiver at how close the words are whispered against your neck, internally chastising yourself as heat builds in your core. It feels like you're waiting for your own demise as her green eyes scrutinize you once more. You’ve never felt more like prey.

You hate how passive it feels. Your body is tense with the uncertainties this night will bring, not going unnoticed by the older woman. "Sweetheart…" now her voice is soft, just like the Wanda from earlier. "You're so tense." She brushes your face with her fingertips, noticing your shivers.

"I… I've never done this." you murmur softly—a mix of fear and shame. Wanda feels weak seeing you so vulnerable. Giving you a calm smile, she lowers her hands to stroke your forearm—a soothing gesture. "I know, my sweet. We don't have to do anything you don't want." Wanda lies on top of you, resting her head in the curve of your neck—her breath tickling your ear. "I just want to show you… how good this can feel."

She leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbone—making you let out a shaky breath. “Do you trust me?” And there it was, that question again. “I do, Mommy.”

Wanda's hands take on a life of their own—stroking you, squeezing and massaging your curves, making you need her more and more. Needed for your touch.

She wanted you to get used to being touched like this, she wanted to get you ready to beg for her and for her hands.

Wanda's mouth and hands leave you inert—all the stimuli she was presenting to you took you to another dimension. Your pussy hurt, and you started to feel the need to ease it.

“Wands…” your voice came out shrill, as if you were slowly dying. The woman's warm lips worked on the back of his neck, biting and sucking passionately on the spot. “Hmm, what’s up, little girl? Do you want to say anything to mommy?”

Wanda moves away from your neck to look at you—making you miss the heat applied to the area. As you look at her, your heart skips a beat to see the expression of pleasure on the woman's delicate face—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and her bangs were messy—sexy and even wild.

With a little courage, you steal Wanda's lips for yourself—surprising the woman who decides to let you command the kiss, encouraging her confidence to blossom in her personality, like a flower that grows with the help of the sun.

Wanda would be your sun.

“H-it hurts.” you confess softly, with a husky voice—throwing your hips up, making your hot core rub against Wanda's thigh.

“I know, Dekta. I know… “ she murmured with difficulty, feeling the stickiness of your precious pussy sliding down her thigh with ease. “Mommy will make it go away, yes?” Wanda felt insane, at that moment, she would give you anything you wanted.

“Mommy…” you mumbled, equally crazy.

The woman, upon hearing this delicious title, began to lower her body until she was face to face with her sweet pussy. It was possible to see the stain of her juices wetting her panties. Letting out a shaky, excited breath, Wanda leans in closer to smell him—sweet and spicy, like sandalwood flower.

Wanda's few sexual experiences were never intense, always filled with normality. She hadn't married as a virgin, but still, all the men that came into her life didn't do justice to you.

The woman's unsteady hands cling to her thighs, squeezing for some comfort—she had never done this, after all. When the bittersweet taste reaches the taste buds of her tongue, Wanda moans and pushes her head against her pussy.

“Mmm…” She moans with her mouth working on her clit. Wanda seemed to have discovered a new world, one she didn't want to leave.

“Oh, please…” The enveloping tongue made circular movements, making you reach the edge, perhaps faster than normal. "Mommy!"

You shouted, making Wanda give you a dirty look.

“Be quiet!” She slaps your cheek, which tingles all over your face, warming you up even more—and which makes you push even harder against Wanda, offering yourself to her like a flower in full bloom.

“It’s hard… It’s so good.” your rolling eyes only showed Wanda how much of a stupid little bitch you were who couldn't follow a simple command. “I need… more!” His voice came out in a drawn out, needy whine.

Wanda growls against his sex, her focus never wavering. “What else, little one? More of Mommy’s tongue, sucking and licking that needy little bud of yours until you cry?” she asks, her voice muffled by her flesh.

“Or maybe it’s Mommy’s fingers you’re craving, plunging deep into that tight virgin pussy.” The woman's broken voice brought words that provoked you in a way that made you reach levels of pleasure you never imagined.

“Tell mommy what you need to scream her name like the stupid slut you are.” You roll your eyes when you hear such degrading words.

“I don’t know… it’s weird, but it’s so gooood!” Your only reaction—or instinct, is to rub himself against her even more. In cruel sadism, Wanda stops the stimuli abruptly, making you let out a frustrated groan.

“Ask, pet. If you want to get what you want, learn to ask for it…” she hummed, as if it was just a game for her.

You huffed, no patience for games.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers inside me.” His honesty hit the woman like a punch. And certainly witnessing Wanda falter at just his words did things to your ego.

Wanda positions her finger well, first, massaging, making you feel it. As soon as her middle finger finds your entrance, you tense against her.

“Shhh, dekta, it’s okay” she whispers against his forehead, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Will it hurt a lot?” Her lower lip trembles, her tone seems to seek a reassurance that only Wanda could offer.

“Just a little…” She promises you, looking deep into your eyes, and you nod, giving permission.

At first glance, the finger inside you seemed to burn, tearing you open and opening you up for Wanda to use that little hole as she pleased. You heard the woman growl against your mouth, then kiss you savagely.

Wanda, as excited as you, begins to rub herself against your sex while still thrusting inside you and feeling your finger being chewed completely by your hot flesh.

“So tight,” she growled, as she ground against you and bit your lip.

“Greedy little girl. Do you want mommy’s pussy?” You nodded without thinking twice. “You’re a vessel for my pleasure, a stupid little toy for me to use and abuse… and you love every moment of it, don’t you, little slut?” The woman's words dripped with promises of a corrosive, dangerous, dark desire.

You nod and push your hips even further—both for the friction of your pussies, but for Wanda's finger that is sinking even deeper into you.

“Mmm, yes… just like that, you filthy slut.” The woman's nails dug into her waist, creating half-moon marks. “Oh. Honey, mommy is almost there…” She moans wildly, taking her finger out of you—bringing you a feeling of emptiness.

The pussy rubbing was genuinely delicious. A unique place in the world that you two never wanted to leave. But it's when Wanda bites your nipple that makes you moan loudly and come hard—so hard that Wanda can swear when she feels your pussy tremble against hers.

Wanda falls on her side, desperately searching for breath. You think it's funny and laugh softly. The woman just arches her eyebrow.

“The problem is… I’m already an old lady. I don’t have much energy left!” Wanda’s excuse only made her seem even more adorable in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” You kissed her nose, letting your affection flow through the small gesture, offering her as much comfort as you could muster.

Wanda exhaled, a sound somewhere between exhaustion and contentment, as she shifted in bed to face you. Her hair was messy, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glimmered with a warmth that made your heart melt.

“Beautiful, huh?” she repeated, a soft smile curving her lips. “I think you’re just buttering me up so I’ll bake you more cookies.”

You laughed, finding her pout irresistibly cute.

“I’m not buttering you up; I’m just being honest,” you replied, your tone steady but tender.

She shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her as she slid her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Your bodies fit together so naturally, as though you were crafted for this moment, for each other.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with humor and a depth of affection so profound it made your eyes sting slightly.

“Good trouble or bad trouble?” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Good,” she answered without hesitation, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Too good.”

For a while, silence settled between you, a comfortable stillness broken only by the steady rhythm of your breaths. You took in every detail of her: the elegant curve of her jawline, the gentle slope of her lips, and the way her lashes brushed against her cheeks like delicate whispers of her exhaustion.

“It’s all okay, you know?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

“With us,” you clarified, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to overthink or worry. I’m here. With you.”

Your words seemed to catch Wanda off guard, her smile softening into something vulnerable and raw. She looked at you as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, she cupped your face with both hands, her thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks, her touch impossibly tender.

“You have no idea what that means to me,” Wanda finally said, her voice low and brimming with emotion.

“Then show me,” you whispered, leaning in to meet her lips once again, this time in a kiss so calm and intimate that it felt like sealing an unspoken promise between you.

When you finally broke apart, Wanda let out a deep sigh, as though releasing a weight she had carried for far too long. She drew you into her chest, her arms wrapping around you protectively, as though she wanted to keep you there forever.

“Sleep now, my angel,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your forehead as she held you even closer.

And so, you closed your eyes, your heart warm and full, certain that, in this moment, you were everything Wanda needed.

But as she watched your lashes flutter closed, her gaze shifted. Her hand, once tenderly cradling your face, now caught her attention—a deep crimson stain painting her fingertips. Blood. Your blood. Your purity.

Something primal and dark ignited within Wanda—a force that she couldn’t resist. Slowly, obsessively, she brought her fingers to her lips, tasting every drop as though savoring a forbidden fruit.

The warm, metallic tang of blood spread across her tongue, and instead of disgust, a raw, guttural moan escaped her lips. It was pleasure, unadulterated and feral, coursing through her with an intensity that made her tremble.

Her eyes glowed faintly, a flicker of something inhuman breaking through the surface. It wasn’t just about the taste or the act—it was about possession, about the irrevocable claim she had laid upon you.

The room was cloaked in silence, save for the sound of her labored breathing, low and almost animalistic. Her fingers, still stained red, moved over her lips, cleaning away every last trace. Her body quaked, not from fear but from the euphoria of knowing you were irrevocably hers.

Wanda leaned over you, her eyes tracing your serene features. You looked angelic, but to her, you were an angel wrapped in shadows—a contradiction so alluring it drove her to madness.

With trembling fingers, she gently touched your lips, the faintest smear of crimson left behind. Her touch was tender, reverent, yet stained by the chaos swirling within her.

“You don’t even know, do you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with a dangerous kind of adoration.

And as the night deepened, Wanda’s obsession with you solidified into something unyielding, something that would burn brightly, consuming everything in its wake.

Mine,” she whispered, the sound barely coming out but carrying a possessiveness that made the air in the room feel heavier. “You are mine now. In every way.”

~*~

Wanda got more intense after watching Twillinght New Moon....

UNREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

@trindad2k @vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @trying-to-do-good @bees-for-brains

@eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @jazzyxqzl @sheriffhaughtearp @i-luv-w1men

[scivors]

DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS

Andre Nikto..huh, are you sure?

Who would've thought, huh?..You know,.. before you two became a couple, most of his guys back at the base would kinda tell you stories back and forth.

Oh, Nikto this and Oh, Nikto that, he's a psychopath, sociopath, he doesn't care about no one but himself. Some were conern for you, did you wake up and decided you just wanna lose all your self respect? Do you need therapy even?

They're giving you a heads up, few warning signs to not go down that path of dating a man who has a interesting background (not the good one)

He doesn't care about his teammates why would he care about you? And the stories go on and on. You brushed it off..

Nikto doesn't care about his teammates because that's their job and that's what they're set to do. Why should he feel empathy for someone who's signed the papers to risk their life? Making friends leads to attachment, attachment leads to a close bond, a close bond would lead to a sick pain in the stomach when you get the news that your teammate didn't make it out alive. Who would want that? Not Nikto.

And how about that..., someone showing a monster kindness. He's never been treated gently by anyone in his life not even his family when he was only a little Мальчик. You didn't know, however. You still made sure to greet him every time and you ask him about how his day was, you ask him if he's hungry etc. If he ever comes back home with scars you treat them with love and care

(note: before you, most of the time he will come back home with a lot of scars and wouldn't bother treating them cause he doesn't feel them at all until he notices he's been bleeding a lot..)

He takes his shirt off for you and allows you to treat his scars against his own will cause you got sick of him ignoring it like it's some natural thing. He'd sit down on the edge of the bed with his back leaned forward as you search for any new damages to his skin. Your care is what really got him questioning why him?

Well, it's the least you could do for him to show that you won't hurt him and that he's loved.

When he took off his shirt for the first time Infront of you, he has a little belly fat on him, he has fat in some areas of his body but that just means by appearance and shape, he's healthy (he's very much in shape maybe not like a full-on body builder but he's got the strength and the spirit, so it didn't really bother him that much as long as he can still do his training with no complications.) ALSO he might have a cross tattoo somewhere, he also has medium body hair too, so really he just looks like a grizzly bear in your house. You'd just imagine him as a grizzly bear, not because he's Russian, god no, good thing he can't read your mind..

He doesn't do affection, his touch is not as gentle as yours. But if you make him do some heavy lifting, he's surely right for the job.., if you need help with fixing things, he's gonna fix it, if you need an oil change, hes also there so he makes sure you don't get scammed. Anything he's familiar with, he can do that for you 100%

However this doesn't mean he'll move away whenever you try to show him affection, no, he'll just let you do what you want and just..stand still, probably still as a statue..

You come up behind him as he's just sitting there, as soon you got close enough towards him, your arms give him a nice welcoming hug around the neck, he doesn't flinch or tries to move away. This doesn't mean he doesn't care, he just feels relaxed.

First night you're sleeping together (not like that) you're in a sweetheart's cradle cuddling position and you can hear his heartbeat.

His heartbeat is steady, it's nice. But what's really special about that night, for you at least, is that he took off his mask Infront you for the first time. He didn't care for the most part, Nikto carries a mask for identity purposes so that he stays anonymous. He's fully aware what his face looks like, but he will test you to see if you'd care.

Your reaction settles like this;

Like always you don't care what he looks like, his looks never mattered to you. With your usual airy voice that has the sound of what can only be described as a silky, smooth collusion of skyburst reds and yellows of the setting sun when it shines it's light to a dark forest, it aluminates the trees with it's light, a voice to which sounds like calm nature, you reassured your big teddy bear that what they did to him to make him look so abnormal doesn't change anything, you're not frightened by what's Infront of you but you showed more concern than disgust..

Your hands traveled towards his face to examine his face a little further, his jaw isn't straight and neither is his nose, his abnormalities that attracts the eye really makes you question what torture methods did they use on him.. As you're memorising his every feature and kissing every scar you feel two rough grips by your wrists slowly moving your hands away and with Nikto's usually straightforward tone says

"that's enough, let's get some rest.."

He's not used to this romantic cherishing feeling, so you brush it off as a natural response to care..giving that he's been independent all his life..

Nikto would test you, like anyone with trust issues..

Nikto isn't the kind to put his whole efforts on you unless you prove to him that no matter what, you'll stay. And I don't mean that as in he will go out and be with other women to make you jealous, no, god no.What I'm saying is that Nikto is naturally difficult to deal with because, well, you've been warned the first time..

In other words Nikto is in less control of what he's doing and not knowing where he stands..

It's that inner thought that tells him you're going to leave him after one small argument then he'll feel guilty when you're the one being reasonable which results to him going silent..

He gets jealous, he will ask you about any man that gets close to you and won't believe you when you say that he's just a friend and it doesn't mean anything, he will question where have you been, question who you were with, he will question your loyalty, he will go through your phone when you're not lookin, stalking you when you don't know it etc. Eventually, this all builds up and you constantly reassured him that you only love him and there is no way that you'd ever cheat on him..

He finds I pretty hard to believe but since those are your words, he'll put everything down and he'll trust you with your words..

Though, he's confident enough to know you won't cheat on him it's the fact that despite all that, men will still approach you and he knows what they're capable of..

Nikto is the type to wait until marriage. Though, sure, he was the type to do one night stands and leave with no feelings attached, he'd never thought that he'd end up in a relationship, so it means when it's someone who's bound to be his partner, he eventually waits until marriage..(Slavic man mindset)

Now, hear me out, Nikto might not be the best at showing affection but he does show it in ways you don't understand. Let's say you love oranges, he will come back home after work with three bags filled with oranges. Or you have a favourite drink, next time he's out getting groceries, he'll make sure to add your favourite drink in the cart..

Now about the part of him being difficult to deal with, Nikto doesn't express himself how'd you expect everyone to express their feelings,thoughts and emotions and everyone knows that, even his teammates. Some nights, when you're asleep he'd go out on the balcony and just sit there for hours

everything was quiet except for one thing and that is his thoughts..

His mind has been racing, aching, hurting, not one minute existed where he wasn't hearing muffled screams of anger, sadness and complaints that never seem to come to an end..but this time he couldn't wait till morning..

He grabs his own head seemingly like he wasn't his own person "calm down" he said

"No one is going to hurt you, not anymore, there is no one around you that is going to hurt you, they're in the past..you're safe now.."

And before any reply in hesitation of to speak

He repeats to himself

"No one's going to hurt you, "

Those nights when you wake up without him in the same bed, you already know what's happening with him yet you don't want to interfere not knowing which alter it is..it could be the one that's not so friendly.. especially with you, Nikto told you this before, or was it Nikto??..you can't recall..so you just go back to sleep..

Walking around with Nikto means either both of you look intimidating or you're the usually nice and social kind of person while Nikto is unapproachable.., it balances it.., no?

[luckyjunehenry]

hi! (not) local anxious teen thinking about the future and very very worried ...

I look up to you a lot and I'm curious if you have any advice about being in the world?

it doesn't have to be anything groundbreaking Im just looking for words to put in my brain :)

ok yay im in the mood to type a lot because my new keyboard protecter makes my typing sound nice. here is my advice for being In The World as someone who was SO scared:

become a Regular somewhere. Coffee shops and libraries r fantastic spots for this. first of all, it's great to have a place away from home to work on schoolwork if you're in school. meeting other Regulars/employees and forming friendships is totally possible, but even if you don't get particularly close to anyone, familiar acquaintances are far more valuable than we realize!

be really mindful about your substance use, especially for the first year of living on your own. Even if you're only using at parties or shows or whatever, that's teaching your brain that in order to have fun and be social, you Need a substance. after struggling with substances in high school, I was completely sober for my freshman year of college. I think this is one of the best choices I made for myself at that age!

you probably haven't found The One yet and that Is GOOD ! ! even if you have a romantic partner you feel really confident about, be sure to form friendships with people completely separate from your partner. even if you and your partner are together 4 life, it's important to have your own social sphere!

IT IS WORTH DECORATING YOUR ROOM EVEN IF YOU WILL ONLY BE THERE FOR ONE YEAR ! ! ! it is NEVER too late to decorate. Yeah it's a hassle to move everything, but it increases my happiness so so much to be in a space that feels like home to me. I think its especially important to do this if you end up living in a dorm!

if you haven't established a line of credit yet, it's a great idea to get on that soon if ya can. My first credit card was a Chime credit builder which basically functioned as a debit card. I couldn't spend any money that I didn't already have. It honestly doesn't even matter if you're using it constantly, just try to make like one purchase per month or so! One of the major factors of a credit score is the length of your credit history. Even though I didn't use a credit card much until recently, my score is pretty decent because I have a credit history that's around 3 years old.

eat. seriously. so many people I know struggle so much with their mood and health and its largely due to not having a regular food schedule. it's way harder than you expect it to be!

everything is always gonna be awkward. you have to decide whether you want awkwardness to rule your life or if you can face awkwardness regularly and live far more freely and awesomely. what's the worst that's gonna happen?? you ask someone to hang out and they say no?? do we need to call the ambulance now????

that's all my basic Young Adult advice. a framework I've been trying to live by lately is like

what would I do if I were a kid but had all the resources and freedom I do now? (Sometimes this means playing at the park for hours, drawing, even buying a silly toy)

what would I do if I were a dog with human rights and resources? (choose whatever animal suits you best. This is just a fun way to live and helps me go on more walks)

also you're allowed to eat ice cream every day. twice per day, even.

BEST OF LUCK TO YOU!!!! It's scary but it's also awesomer than you can imagine!!!!

[lemmetreatya]

Job!Character | m • list

“I don’t care if his collars blue or white — as long as he treat me right, it don’t matter.”

💠 All Works are NSFW 💠

NEW (as of last update): ⚜️

A T T A C K O N T I T A N

📌 Security gurads!ConJeanRen

📌 Pilot!Eren

📌 Deliveryman!Eren

📌 Librarian!Eren

📌 Youth Leader!Eren

📌 Kpop fanboy!Eren

📌 Gardener!Jean

📌 Meteorologist!Jean

📌 Politician!Connie

📌 Funeral director!Connie

📌 Shop Assistant!Armin

📌 Actor!Armin ⚜️

📌 Laundromat technician!Levi

📌 Sofa salesman!Porco

📌 Tow truck driver!Reiner

📌 Bellhop!Reiner

📌 Chiropractor!Reiner ⚜️

📌 Rent-A-Boyfriend!Zeke

📌 MP!Onyankopon ⚜️

📌 Movie Director!Onyankopon ⚜️

J U I J U T S U K A I S E N

📌 Tour Guide!Gojo

📌 Wedding photographer!Geto

📌 Nude Model!Gojo ⚜️

📌 Tennis Player!Nanami

📌 Driving Instructor!Nanami

📌 Club Bouncer!Sukuna

📌 Plumber!Toji

📌 CEO!Toji

J O J O S B I Z A R R E A D V E N T U R E

📌 Chef!Jotaro

📌 Harbour operator!Jotaro ⚜️

📌 Photographer!Jotaro ⚜️

📌 Head Builder!Polnareff ⚜️

📌 Car washer!Avdol ⚜️

M Y H E R O A C A D A M E I A

📌 Personal trainer!Hawks

📌 Juggler!Hawks

📌 Senior Banker!Enji

📌 Garbageman!Enji

[stromuprisahat]

“He [Bran] was going to be a knight,” Arya was saying now. “A knight of the Kingsguard. Can he still be a knight?” “No,” Ned said. He saw no use in lying to her. “Yet someday he may be the lord of a great holdfast and sit on the king’s council. He might raise castles like Brandon the Builder, or sail a ship across the Sunset Sea, or enter your mother’s Faith and become the High Septon.” But he will never run beside his wolf again, he thought with a sadness too deep for words, or lie with a woman, or hold his own son in his arms. Arya cocked her head to one side. “Can I be a king’s councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?” “You,” Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, “will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.” Arya screwed up her face. “No,” she said, “that’s Sansa.” She folded up her right leg and resumed her balancing. Ned sighed and left her there.

A Game of Thrones- Chapter 25 (George R. R. Martin)

This might be another continuity error, but why would Ned tell Arya she'll marry a king, when there's only one? It's kinda funny Arya argues that should be Sansa, because yes Ned, are you getting senile? That's NOT the daughter you've engaged to the Heir!

[gendieva]

⋆˚ 𝜗 how to listen to subs. 𝜚˚⋆

✰ I see you girls who would read reddit posts about how people are getting results in days while others get them in weeks, months, years, and never. I get it, y'all. I didn't get subliminal results but I'll back that up with inconsistent listening, limiting beliefs and worst of all, low quality experience DURING listening (I kept trying to play my sub playlist overnight but I'd always wake up to ads, loud audios, or wake up peacefully to a sight of my headphones beside me and realized that I took it off in my sleep. + the playlist pauses on its own.)

✰ it is almost 2025 y'all, like it's literally christmas. we need to learn how to use subliminals properly. this is how !!

USE THIS FORMULA :: a reddit user called "embarrassed_tip_4749" made a formula for getting results and there were many people that commented their experience on it. there was one girl that listened to subs for almost a decade and she came from an abusive family and had severe health issues. she used the formula and her pain was easing up after 2 days. search it up y'all.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Subliminal/comments/1d6bvs0/i_got_major_results_full_compilation_of_all_my/ :: this is the formula.

ORGANIZE YOUR PLAYLIST :: you can add as many subliminals as you want, but I tried to keep my old playlist as short as possible (17 subs including boosters) to process it more and add repetition. make sure you only listen to subs on the same topic !! I also personally added boosters every after 1-4 videos to.. yeah. boost. now tho, I only use 2 subliminals and 1 booster and this new playlist is about 68 mins long.

FIND THE RIGHT SUBMAKERS :: y'all, I feel like the majority of submakers are safe but need to be right. some people get reversed results out of subliminals because --

the affirmations can use complicated or oversimplified phrases of medical terms that you don't understand so it is like a word from another language. when your subconscious tries to intepret the whole phrase and recognizes the term "nose" for example, it may associate or process it to a negative belief about it so you have a reversed result of your nose being bigger. your subconscious doesn't understand the command.

submakers may create the subliminals wrong. if the subliminal doesn't repeat or get layered, or it is too layered and sped up that it becomes distorted, etc. then it can be a slower process or might never change you at all.

your subconscious mind may reject affirmations entirely, causing you to have no results. I mean, your subconscious mind is more vulnerable to absorb it, but subliminals work slower with limiting beliefs for a reason. your subconscious mind is just absorbing information but not FOLLOWING command, so that's why seeking results slows you down.

⋆˚ 𝜗 how to combat this ?? 𝜚˚⋆ + submakers I trust.

(IMPORTANT) GET INTO MANIFESTATION :: subliminals are a tool for manifestation but you can't give a non-artist a pencil and get desired results, or give a non-builder a hammer and expect anything good out of it; or a frying pan to a non-cooker. stop replying on subs and get into a manifestation journey first.

VISUALIZATION :: instead of affs, use visualization to command your subconscious mind so it knows what it should follow.

BOOSTERS AND BLOCK BUSTERS :: again, I used a booster every 1-4 subliminal audios.

SCHEDULE :: yes, listen to subs as much as you can but also don't. it commands attachment and exhausts your mind so it can't process anymore. I recommend scheduling a few hours playing subs and you can play overnight too but don't seek results the next morning because that's when your brain is probably following commands to change DNA structure.

⋆˚ 𝜗 SAFE SUB SUGGESTIONS 𝜚˚⋆

✰ (TOP FAVE) ALEYA :: everyone loves her and loves her only. there are no reversed results or changes that take long, no. everyone gets fast and instant results, she constantly outdoes herself ever new subliminal she makes and apparently she's really perfessional and responds to emails instantly.

✰ (TRUSTED) IWIIGI :: the affs she uses are basic and in umbrella terms so your mind can absorb them without making reversed results. are results instant ? depends on you; ppl with limiting beliefs and new listeners must repeat

✰ (UNDERRATED) RINNIE :: she takes care of her channel with so much love like the documents, the subliminal topics, her themes are so pretty and so sweet and she doesn't even get talked about much. loop her, y'all.

⋆˚ 𝜗 booster subliminals !! 𝜚˚⋆

✰ https://youtu.be/AS9SYSJaB3o?si=SjmQmh6A3WlvW3vZ

✰ https://youtu.be/wJEaGesTcAo?si=_se50y2d-ThX-ZAe

✰ https://youtu.be/YRGs_4lB2wo?si=47rQ_aw_Qa-gvhLp

[marivoid]

Entry 31

Day 223

This is him. One of the only people that can help me find The Doctor. The Heavy-Body Builder.

One problem: The man is the definition of "Looks scary, is a wet cat of a man." He definitely TRIED to be intimidating, but he failed pretty miserably at it when I met him after being unconscious for 10 days.

(Yes I did a double take. I still can't believe I was out for THAT long)

Picture this: Me walking towards a towering city of collapsing buildings with dust filled air. Eyes focused on the small blinks of light that just barely escape the smog- I'm thinking that I've finally made it! Comparator City!

And then I get absolutely BODIED by a huge hunk of metal. I wish I were kidding. My poor spine! My arm! It got freaking CRUSHED! I was sent flying a decent few feet and ended up crashing into an old light pole (Again. OW.) All that I can remember happening next is that same hunk of metal approaching me and some guy jumping out of it. But then... Well. I was out like a light.

Managed to wake up (after what felt like) a few hours later and oh GOODNESS did it hurt. My back, my right side, my stump of an arm- It all hurt! But there was somebody in the very dim room with me. The same person that crawled out of that hunk of metal.

"Thank goodness you're awake!" He had said when I first gained consciousness. "I was worried that you wouldn't stabilize! You've been unconscious for over a week!"

"I've been WHAT?!" And of course, when I sat up I saw the damage the man had done to me. Machines were strapped all over my body, an IV drip sticking out of my arm (Where he found a clean needle I will not ask.) a whole heart rate monitor- He was stacked! But from the state of everything, he was telling me the truth. "You knocked me unconscious for a week?!"

"Well it's r-really been ten days-"

"TEN DAYS?!"

"Yes- Yes I know it sounds absolutely horrible but! But! You're recovering at an accelerated rate! You should be good to go in a few days? Maybe three? The experimental drug is working great for you!" He had been blabbering and talking so fast that I nearly missed that detail.

"Experimental- I'm sorry, EXPERIMENTAL DRUG?" Of course I had been outraged back then. (Even looking back now I'm still a bit ticked off at being used as a guinea pig for a drug that could have killed me, but hey! I'm alive now!) "You used an EXPERIMENTAL DRUG to heal me."

"Yes! And it worked!" He stepped away from me to grab my prosthetic arm. "And! And I managed to upgrade your arm! It got destroyed- Again I'm so sorry about that- but hey! At least now your map and compass aren't an extra item to carry around!"

"So you fixed the nerve sensors? The solar panels?"

"Uh- No. Unfortunately I don't have access to the receptors or the proper solar panels you need." He had explained while reattaching my arm. "But! But, it works a lot like mine!" He flashed his brass arm, glowing a soft red. "It's powered by redstone! Should last you a solid month before you need to recharge it!"

And there was the main problem. "How in the ever loving hell do I get this 'redstone' stuff? Heck, where could I even get it?"

"Easy! Me!" He flicked on a lever on the backside of my arm and it felt... Nice at the time. Sturdy. Like it wouldn't die on me when I needed it most. "I use the Parrot System, so as long as you can get mail through the Parrots you should be good!"

"... The who?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you this man began to glow with embarrassment. I mean he LITERALLY glowed. Pointy ears and face turning a bright red that GLOWED.

"Right, uh- The parrots! They're one of the middle tier delivery birds! I'm friends with their Flight Master! I... I take it you have no idea who I'm talking about."

"Not a damn clue."

"First of all, watch your tongue. Second! That's okay! I should have enough in store that should last you about three months- But you really need to find the Flight Masters. They'll help you in the long run."

When he stopped his rambling I focused on the newly upgraded arm. It is always a weird sensation, flexing a limb that's not really there. But the small tug of metal fingers and steel plates listening to one's mind is even weirder. And I mean REALLY weird.

"Who... Exactly are these Flight Masters?" I managed to ask him after a few moments of silence. "How do you... Get under their wing?"

"That-" The man paused and the red glow only grew. "That was a horrible pun-" He has a really nice laugh. Small but breathless.

"But it works! I mean, they have to be Birds of a Feather to Fly together-"

"Stop! Stop, no!"

"When am I going to stop, huh?! Never!" And then I started to laugh. I think it was just my mind needing something to focus on other than the glaring new arm attached to my body.

"Goodness you may be worse than Gri-" His laughter died when he barely mentioned a name. I couldn't get all of it, but it must be the Flight Master.

"Worse than...?"

"Y-You will find out eventually." His tune changed from that point going forward.

He eventually gave me his name (Mumbo) and gave me a quick summary of the three Flight Masters.

The Canary: Flight Master of the small, yellow birds that linger around Comparator City. Used by the residents of said city. Apparently the easiest one to befriend.

The Parrot: Flight Master of the robotic parrots that fly around all over the Crashlands. They're more tricky to get a hold of as they have a whole database on who's a customer and who's not. Need to find the Parrot Flight Master in order to get on the list.

The Crow: Flight Master of the Murders. Every crow I have seen so far apparently belongs to Him. And apparently the only way to find him is a mystery to even Mumbo. All I can do is hope for the best with that one.

That was all the information he was willing to tell me. Apparently I struck a nerve by getting him to almost spill the name of the Parrot Flight Master. I'm still resting in this small room, letting myself recover from being plowed by that big old machine.

I even tried asking him what that THING was that he hit me with! But he just shook his head and said it was a prototype I shouldn't bother myself with.

Things are just getting really overwhelming now. So much information to process. How do I find the Canary? Or hell, the Parrot? I'm not even going to TOUCH the subject of the Crow. What about the Demon? Is he still around? Is he in Comparator City? Will I run out of the weird redstone dust before I find the Parrot?

So many questions.

Too little answers.

I think I'm just going to shut off my mind for a little bit.

MLW

G.U.I.D.E. 67

[readingasoiafachapteraday]

THE WORLD OF ICE & FIRE

Reading Order & Thoughts Apparently

//Investigative read with the aim of finishing a fanfic <SPOILERSGALORE>

~this is not intended to be useful in any way shape or form do not construe as such but laughing at it is ok~

The Dawn Age

-dragonglass arrowheads found in giant ribs could be from children-giant war but also cud just as easily be wight giant

-brandon the builder was taken to a secret place by the children when he sought help to build the wall hmmmmmm okk

-“the manner in which Brandon learned to comprehend the speech is a tale in itself and not worth repeating here”?????? WTAF fuck u condal i mean yondel tommen loves stories

-greenseers can see distant events AND COMMUNICATE?hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmplotdevice

-wolfcontrolling skinchangers maxxx common, separately called wargs? stark blood fuckfest much????

-Seastone chair on old wyk wo any ppl SUSSAUCE

The Coming of the First Men

-alleged timing 8000-12000 yrs ago hmmmmm if ww are 6000 yrs ago it’s almost halfway hmmmmmmm

-what they running from? first men possible valyrian ancestors upset w the animalxhuman experiments? conveniently vague time periods

-first settled on DORNE that goddamned desert summins up w ur magic stone i will find u

-greenmen antlermen same same????

-arm of dorne, marshes, all considered natural disasters but w doubt so why not children cause doom of valyria possible??

The Age of Heroes

-ringforts this ringforts that fist of first men this infrastructure that

-find thenn constr. & every single built structure NotW

The Long Night

-do monkeys and elephants have anything in common

-Barth’s “fragmentary treatise” everything shat out by Barth & Munkun makes me want to kms

-Fomas ur understated & prolly right u religious fuck

The Rise of Valyria

-new power in east right after LN recovery, what festive timing gee i wonder if these events r related

-first empire ofc ofc just after old ghis & Qarth & YiTi & Asshai but those r “claims” yea we don’t talk bout that look dragons! blood sacrifice!

-five great wars w ghis “when the world was young” hmmmmmmmm

-Shadow texts say dragons tamed by “people who had no names” hmmmmmmmm

Valyria’s Children

-Qohor&Norvos founded following religious schisms? Only Qohor smiths still know to rework VS

-way way way too many mentions of wealth & human flesh needed in the mines

-fire vs water

-sus that andals & rhoynar both fled from Valyrians but in the second coming “the gods” spoke to the HS while the waterbenders fought both times

-is the long night just fire vs water 2.0?

Arrival of the Andals

-wtf is a fucking swan maiden

-writing the lines of the hugor hill story backwards is not as great a puzzle as u seem to think

-Urron Redhand ruled IIs by “axe&sword” for 1000 yrs, throwaway name? I think the fuck not.

Ten Thousand Ships

-Nymeria of Ny Sar SUS naming

-“few wish to dwell beyond the sound of her eternal song” faith close to old gods

-wtf r the orphans of the greenblood upto

-davos dayne my new OC, forgive me as i project onto u for the forseeable future

-seriously tho the best part so far, need a movie for THIS not whatever fart pudding they baking

The Doom of Valyria

—wtf is the difference between the 14 fires & R’hollor summins weird

-accidental poisoning of one of the flames? like pollution but magical bywaste pollution

-red clouds rained down dragonglass???? and black blood of demons which cud just be dragon blood as they pop in the air from toxicity

-dothraki & sellsword companies both popularised only in the power vacuum

-the conquerer’s attention lay west even as a child hmmmmmm

[theriverbeyond]

re: love lies bleeding... i could be wrong but isn't there a difference between the type of steroids jackie was taking and testosterone? i assumed the increasing violence was due to steroid psychosis.

There mostly isn't! The main difference between "juicing"/bodybuilding steroid use and TRT or HRT is mostly just dose and frequency it is being taken. The brands might be different between medical vs recreational use, and some people take compounds that include things like growth hormone or other stuff, but "Anabolic steroid" doesn't mean "bad and used for bodybuilding", it means "hormone that mimics androgens". Link for WebMD overview of anabolic steroids

This is one of the reasons why trans men face issues when wanting to compete in "natural" strength/bodybuilding sports (not to mention, of course, the exclusion of trans women). USA Powerlifting does not specifically ban trans men from competing in the male division, but it bans any and all TRT, with no medical exemption available to anyone, which is effectively the same as banning both trans and cis men with medical conditions that require them to be taking testosterone.

Testosterone replacement therapy's (TRT) goal is to maintain the body's testosterone within a defined medical range. Cis and trans people of all kinds can be prescribed TRT for various medical reasons (post-menopause, being trans, erectile dysfunction, etc). People who use steroids for bodybuilding are blowing right past that defined medical range -- an example is you may see a cis man on TRT with a dose of maybe 0.25mg/week on the low end with the "average" being around 100mg/week. The dose is raised and lowered to maintain the body's T levels within the healthy medical range/the individual's transition goals.

A man using T for a higher performance in strength/bodybuilding sports is likely to be on way, way higher doses, 200-400mg/week or more, and may be taking T in "cycles" specifically intended to promote muscle growth, versus being on it consistently. There are material health risks associated with these high doses but it's not inherently the substance they are using, it is just the dose.

A woman like Jackie is probably going to be on significantly LOWER dose, even for recreational bodybuilding, because women who engage in steroids for muscle growth are usually not looking for the other masculinization side effects of T, so will necessarily want to stay below the TRT levels typically used by both cis and trans men. I mean, this movie takes place in the 80's so they were probably not using modern medical science because it was the 80's, but the reality that a "juiced" woman would probably want to avoid the normal effects of the average T dose remains true because most women body builders regardless of time period are not looking to transition to a T dominant hormone system. link to reddit thread i found

Steroid psycosis does exist, and "roid range" is a known side effect of any kind of steroids -- including non-sex-hormone steroids like dexamethazone. Just go into a children's cancer ward and you will see that steroids will absolutely impact a person's emotional stability on like, a temporary basis. Go on any r/ftm forum and you will see some people having increased irritability as a result of their bodies adjusting to a different hormone system, with much rarer cases of significant emotional challenges. But my critique isn't necessarily to say that it is like, beyond the imagination/too unrealistic, because it's a horror movie and those are rarely realistic. Exaggeration is the name of the game there. Like I said in my original post, it's not that I hate the movie, I'm just THINKING about the movie and how this aspect of the plot landed badly, for me. In this day& age did we have to make the big tall muscle woman w high T also be a crazy violent killer. We exist in the context of all that came b--(im taken out by another sniper)

Anyway. I hope that answers your question now where is that large hook. I need to be dragged off stage immediately before I write another 1000 words on

[ilovescaredysquirrel2]

Cartoons made by good people (yes, even Nickelodeon)

I'm going to tell you the name and shows of some GOOD cartoon creators first, then I'll tell you the BAD

SpongeBob Squarepants (made by Stephen Hillenburg, who refused to put SpongeBob in school, even though Nickelodeon pressured him, so he put SpongeBob in boating school. They also called out Dirty Dan in an episode of SpongeBob)

Marvin The Tap-Dancing Horse (made by Betty and Michael Paraskevas, mother and son do who worked on the books too)

Maggie and the Ferocious Beast (also made by Betty and Michael Paraskevas)

Wallace & Gromit/Shaun the Sheep (made by Bob Baker, Nick Park, and the Shaun the sheep show was made Richard Starzack)

Camp Lazlo (made by Joe Murray, who made Rocko's modern life but he made Camp Lazlo and Lets Go Luna way more family friendly)

Fifi and The Flowertots (made by Keith Chapman, who also made Bob the Builder but this show's 1000 times better than Bob the builder)

CatDog (made by Peter Hannan who I'm assuming is a good guy, I think they called out Dirty Dan in an episode but it was more subtle)

Rugrats (made by Arlene Klasky and Gabor Csupso. I think they also called out Dirty Dan in Rugrats and originally they wanted to make Angelica a nice character instead of bad)

The Backyardigans (made by Janice Burgess, who I don't know much about, but I feel bad she recently died and they made a reboot that looks hideous, just a month after she died)

Curious George (The guy who wrote the books had to escape war, Curious George books have been around for a long time. The stories were also ahead of their time)

So those were all the GOOD people

So with all the news of cartoon creators ending up being secretly monsters behind the scenes, and it's mostly Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network. These are the BAD people! Dirty Dan Schnieder didn't make cartoons, but he made a lot of sitcoms. There were other p*dophiles at Nickelodeon besides him, and I'll name them. John Kricfalusi, who made Ren & Stimpy, is also a horrible perverted freak who did what Dan did. There was a guy from Cartoon Network (Kyle Corrozza I beleive is his name) who got arrested for having CP on his computer, but he didn't touch anyone from what I heard. Dirty Dan and John K are the worsts! Butch Hartman is also a weirdo too, but I just know him as being ableist and a womanizer. I don't think he did anything dirty to children, although I have seen some suspicious things in Fairy odd parents. We all know who this b**** Vivziepop is, right? That chick who created Hazbin Hotel and bodyshamed an animator, treated her animators poorly, made fun of religion, and romanticized a r*pe scene!

[dynared]

The Voltron movie is finally moving forward with filming dates confirmed, sets being built, and a cast being rounded out, with a mostly unknown newcomer and Henry Cavill, fresh off of bashing his head into a glass ceiling trying to get a Warhammer 40k series going at Amazon. (I would not be surprised if that project stalled out and he was offered a lead role in Voltron as a compensation prize so he can earn some money).

And for reasons I'll never fully comprehend, I'm back on the Hopium that this will be a standout example of a Western-made mecha property, combining Japanese-style super robots with Hollywood budgets to create a billion-dollar hit at the box office.

This is after the West's near endless stream of failures at the genre, usually doomed by writers up their own asses who view anything with robots more complicated than a refrigerator with two legs and some guns as a glorified toy commercial and therefore immoral and needing to be changed. Take for instance Legendary Defender's writers admitting in interviews they fought to use Voltron less, hence the show bombing and WEP happy to erase it from the collective internet (as it deserves). Or gen:Lock writing in the first page of its artbook and inscribing in a plaque above the head writer's office "This show is about the characters". Its production company, Rooster Teeth, ceased operations in May, and while its sister show RWBY was sold to Viz Media for future use, gen:Lock is still for sale from Warner Bros, although I don't see anyone coming out to buy it.

So far, Amazon MGM and WEP, Inc are doing all the right things for this movie, whether purposefully or coincidentally. They're letting the rights to Legendary Defender on Netflix expire two years before the movie's targeted release date of 2026 so the show vanishes from the internet and none of the actors, directors, or crew have to hear the phrases "Klance", "Sheith", "fiction affects reality", or "Gays In Space." They're hiring Henry Cavill, a guy who still has a fair amount of sympathy from the general public for his ill-fated roles as Superman (being caught square in the Snyder drama) and Geralt of Rivera (where the longtime fan of The Witcher books and games objected to the considerable liberties taken by the show's writers and was shown the door), which as a bonus for Bob Koplar, will probably attract the Snyderbros to the super robot movie and provide a very different tenor to the fandom than VLD had, chasing that rapidly dwindling fandom out the door. Bob Koplar has spoken repeatedly at VoltCon conventions about wanting to capture the spirit of the original 80s series while repeatedly expressing distaste for Legendary Defender.

The main issues at this point are "What is the plot?" and "How big is the budget?" The rumor as per those same VoltCon panels where Koplar flat out said Dreamworks "did not get Voltron" is that we will be getting five new characters, rather than the usual crew of Keith, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Sven/Shiro. I'm all in favor of this because it means one less connection to Legendary Defender, but it also probably means the movie will be about an alien invasion of Earth with our super robot the only thing able to repel the invaders. As for the budget, we don't know that either, but given that the rights started a bidding war between Amazon MGM as well as other big companies like Warner Bros, Paramount, and Universal (Netflix was reportedly uninterested because of how badly VLD went) as well as reports from Australia citing shortages of set builders because of the high demand for them at the Voltron set, we could potentially be looking at a blockbuster with a blockbuster budget.

I'll guess we'll know soon. Filming is scheduled, as per Production List to begin at the end of December, which means over the next two months we'll probably see the rest of the cast rounded out and get a hard number for the budget. But there might be a reason to hope that the series is a super robot movie that the West deserves, and not another VLD or gen:Lock styled trainwreck from writers who don't get it.

[chr0macide]

Break In: The Novelette (Fanfic)

Part 2 is out

BOOM FIRST TUMBLR POST. I am currently normal about the Roblox Break In series so I decided to try and recreate it as a short story. This is my first time writing anything seriously for fun so I'm sure the pacing is all kinds of fucked up but I did enjoy making it lol. I tried to follow the game's storyline as closely as possible but I also took a few creative liberties and tried to give the characters more personality, not sure how well it worked though lol. This is just the first Break In but I might also do this to Break In 2 as well, probably won't happen in the immediate future though. This thing is about 9,500 words. If you have any feedback/notice errors please do comment :)

Chapter I – Silent House

An old coupe trundled down the road of a quaint suburban neighborhood. Four kids were crammed uncomfortably inside it. One of them reached into his bag of chips, elbowing his younger sister next to him as he did so.

“Ugh. Watch it, Hadrian,” she grumbled.

“You watch it,” Hadrian replied as he shoved the chips into his mouth. The girl reached over to steal one out of the bag. Hadrian slapped her hand away.

“You jerk!” she shrieked, swinging her teddy bear into Hadrian’s face. Hadrian grabbed a handful of his sister’s dark hair and pulled. The two older kids in the car groaned as their younger siblings began bickering and jostling everyone else around.

“Hadrian. Stephanie. Cut it out,” warned the older sister. The younger kids quieted down, but only slightly. “I’m serious! Prince, tell them to stop,” she said to the driver.

The car ground to a halt. “Monica, it’s fine. We’re here,” said the older brother. He removed the key from the ignition. The engine made a worrisome rattling sound as it shut off. He grabbed the handle of the car door next to him and jiggled it. The door was stuck. “Damn this old shitbox,” he muttered as he forced it open.

The four kids squeezed out and breathed in the fresh air. “Finally,” said Stephanie. Prince walked around the car and popped the trunk open, removing the family’s only suitcase.

They’d parked in front of a modest two-story house. It was old and the paint was starting to peel, but at least it looked cozy on the inside.

The front door of the neighboring house creaked open. Out stepped an older man with sunglasses. Uncle Pete. After Prince and Monica had managed to get custody of their siblings, they all knew they had to get away from their parents’ house.

Pete was wealthy. He owned more than a few properties. He’d agreed to let them stay here for free. They weren’t sure why he owned two houses right next to each other. Old people were weird sometimes, but they weren’t complaining.

Prince waved at Uncle Pete. “Evening, Pete!” he called out. Pete just smiled and waved back.

“He’s, uh, usually nonverbal,” Monica explained to her younger siblings. “Anyway. Let’s get inside,” she suggested.

Prince stuck his hand under the welcome mat and fished out a keychain. He tried to jam several different keys into the lock before the door opened. Everyone stepped inside.

“It’s musty,” Stephanie complained. Hadrian made a beeline for the couch in the living room as he shoved another handful of chips into his face. He collapsed onto it and proceeded to ignore everyone.

“It’s not that bad,” Monica claimed. Truthfully, there was a slight odor in the house, but that was probably just because no one had aired the place out for a while. “Come on, let’s open these,” she said to Stephanie as she unlatched one of the windows.

Prince inspected the kitchen. They hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping yet, so the cupboards were barren. He took out his phone. “Pizza, anyone?” he called out to the others. They yelled their approval from the other rooms.

“Fine!”

“Sure!”

Prince punched a string of digits into the number pad and put the phone to his ear. “Is this Builder Brothers Pizza? OK, we’ll have a large pineapple—”

“NO!” bellowed Hadrian from the living room.

Prince rolled his eyes. “Fine. A large pepperoni as well,” he added.

Monica called out to him from the other room. “Prince! Get over here!” she said. Prince finished up the call and followed her voice until he was standing before a door with a large padlock affixed to it. Monica and Stephanie turned to him.

“This door looks cool. Open it,” Stephanie demanded.

Prince squinted at the padlock. “I don’t know… Pete probably locked it for a reason.”

“What, are you scared?” the girl joked. “You can lock it again if there’s a monster inside.”

The eldest brother pursed his lips. He wasn’t worried about monsters, but he’d heard rumors of growing criminal activity around this neighborhood. Although…

Prince rifled through the pockets of his cargo shorts until he located the keychain. He found the right key and inserted it into the padlock. It clicked open and fell to the ground with a dull thunk. Prince gently opened the door.

There were concrete steps leading down into a basement. They couldn’t see anything through the darkness, but the cold, stagnant air rushed out over them.

“That’s ominous,” Monica remarked.

Stephanie grinned in excitement and took a step inside, but Prince put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “No, Steph. It’s too dark to see anything in there. You’ll get hurt,” Prince told her. Steph stuck out her lower lip and pouted, but she didn’t try to run inside again. Prince shut the door.

The doorbell rang. The pizza was here. At the same time, Hadrian yelled at everyone from the living room again. “Guys! There’s breaking news on the TV!”

“Coming,” Prince yelled back. “You guys go ahead. I’m gonna get the food,” he told the girls.

Prince opened the front door. It was almost dark outside, and starting to rain, too.

“Sup,” said the delivery guy. Prince took a small step backwards. The guy was pretty big. “Two large pizzas?”

“Yeah,” Prince confirmed. He took the pizza boxes and set them aside before he rummaged through his cargo shorts again for his wallet. He opened it. The family had been low on cash ever since they left their parents’ place. He handed a $20 note to the delivery guy, but he continued to look at Prince expectantly. “Uh… no tip this time. Sorry. That’s all I got right now,” Prince admitted, averting his eyes.

The delivery guy threw up his arms in disbelief. “Dude, are you for real?” he questioned.

“Sorry,” Prince apologized again.

The pizza guy shoved the bill into his pocket. He turned around and trudged over to his motorcycle. “This is my livelihood, man,” he muttered. Prince fidgeted with his wallet guiltily as the guy sped off.

Nonetheless, Prince picked up the pizza boxes and brought them into the living room. Right as he set them down on the coffee table, there was a clap of thunder. The lights in the house blinked out abruptly. The TV flickered off.

Monica glanced outside. The streetlights were also off. There was a power outage.

Everyone looked out the window and saw Uncle Pete’s silhouette leave his house through the back door. He ran a cable to a box outside. He ran another one from the box to their own house. The box hummed to life.

“Oh, it’s a generator,” Monica figured. The lights didn’t turn on, but the TV did. Pete noticed everyone staring at him through the window. He waved at them again before running back into his home.

They turned to the TV and started eating their pizza as the news reporter began speaking. The screen showed a gang of mobsters wearing fine suits and tuxedos, their faces obscured by comedy masks. They were dumping a barrel of some unknown liquid into a storm drain. The picture appeared to have been taken through somebody’s broken windowpane.

The Purge has Begun, Villains on the Loose, read the headline. “This is not a drill. Agents of the mafia are roaming the streets,” said the news anchor. The image on the screen shifted. A short video played of a second group of mobsters smashing someone’s car window with his crowbar. They dragged a man out. One of them raised a gun to the civilian’s head, but the video was cut off before anything else happened.

“Goddamn,” muttered Prince.

“Do not engage these fugitives under any circumstances. There have been 19 confirmed deaths and many more confirmed injuries so far. Keep doors locked and windows closed at all times,” the news anchor continued.

Another image appeared on the screen. “Their leader is Larry Clockturn,” said the news anchor.

Monica stifled a laugh at the mob boss’s appearance. A grey beard hid the lower half of his face. He was old, and he definitely dressed like it. Bowler hats were not in fashion. There was a domino mask over his eyes. He wore a violet waistcoat with a rose affixed to the lapel over his black undershirt. A peculiar golden crowbar was in his hand.

The image switched to a mugshot of Larry. Monica stopped laughing. “Wait, that’s not a person,” she said. Now that they were looking at him up close, she realized that his skin was unnaturally shiny. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark and his face seemed stiff and lifeless.

“Is he a robot, or something?” asked Stephanie.

“I don’t know… he looks more like an automaton,” Monica replied.

Stephanie looked at her funny. “Is there a difference?��

“Well, yeah,” said Monica. “At least, I think so. Robots use electricity, but automatons have engines or something-”

Hadrian shushed her as the news anchor continued talking. “If you see this entity, run away and hide. Larry Clockturn is considered by authorities to be an extremely dangerous serial murderer. Do not engage him under any circumstances. Special forces have been dispatched to regulate the situation. I repeat, this is not a drill.”

There was static as the program ended. A standby screen appeared on the TV. Nobody spoke at first.

“That shit is wild,” said Hadrian, deadpan. Stephanie peered through the window nervously. “I told you we should have gone to Bloxburg!” she hissed to Prince.

“And I told you, Steph, we don’t have that kind of money.”

“Guys. Be quiet.” Monica was the one staring out the window now, but the streetlights were still off. If there were any mobsters creeping around outside, she couldn’t tell. “Can’t see shit. Maybe they don’t know we’re here, either… let’s just go upstairs.”

Prince grabbed the suitcase he’d left by the front door. He partially unzipped it and felt around inside until he found the flashlight, then switched it on and held it in front of him as he lugged the bag up the stairs. The others followed him from behind until he came to the bedroom. He dropped the bag just inside.

“Phew.” Prince was too tired to unpack, and now probably wasn’t the best time, anyway. He cautiously made his way to the window at the back of the room. It might have been his imagination, but he could almost see moonlight glinting on mobsters’ white purge masks. He drew the curtains. “Let’s just hit the sack,” he said to the other kids.

They were in for a rude awakening.

Chapter II – Broke In

The kids awoke to the sound of shattering glass. Stephanie sat bolt upright and screamed. She fell out of her bed and rolled underneath it, still clutching her teddy.

A mobster had smashed the only window in the room with his crowbar and was now climbing inside. The other three kids jumped up and scrambled away from him. He planted his shiny black shoes on the floor, brushed some glass shards off his tuxedo, and brandished his crowbar at the kids, laughing.

“G’day, cunts,” he greeted them, tipping his fedora at them wryly. He started towards them.

It was only one guy. The kids whirled around, searching for something to defend themselves with. There was nothing except for Prince’s baseball bat… but it was still in the suitcase. Monica ran to the front of the room and shoved the bag flat onto the floor. She started to unzip it.

Meanwhile, the mobster raised his crowbar to bash Prince’s brains in, but Hadrian had skirted around until he was behind the guy. He kicked the back of his leg. The thug folded, eliciting a giggle from the boy, but it was promptly cut short as the mobster shot to his feet and grabbed him around the throat. “Little shit.” He lifted his crowbar again as he throttled Hadrian with one hand.

Monica had the suitcase open. She dug through it, throwing the clothes aside until she found Prince’s chrome baseball bat. She tossed it to him.

Prince caught the bat and turned to the mobster again. “Get away from Hadrian, you asshole!” he yelled as he swung as hard as he could.

There was a sharp ding as the bat connected head-on with the side of the mafioso’s skull. His head was jerked to the side by the impact. He released Hadrian and crumpled to the ground, barely conscious.

Monica rushed towards Hadrian and hugged him. “Are you OK?” she asked, fussing over her younger brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hadrian replied as he pushed her away, but his voice was wavering a little. He rubbed his neck. The mobster’s grip had left a red mark around it.

Stephanie finally crawled out from under her bed. “What do we do now?” she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the insensible mafioso.

Prince walked over to him cautiously. “We should… uh…”

He didn’t want to kill a guy in front of two young kids. Certainly not his own siblings. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill anyone at all. His eyes fell upon the broken window.

“We should… just push him back out through the window. Yeah. It’s not that far to the ground. He’ll be fine,” finished Prince hesitantly. He grabbed the mobster’s feet. Monica grabbed him under the arms. They hauled his nearly unconscious body to the window.

They draped the mobster over the windowsill. Prince gave him a little push. He slid out rather gently and grunted in pain as he hit the ground outside. Now he was really knocked out.

Prince and Monica took a peek over the sill. He was already surrounded by a few of his fellow mafiosos. They glanced up at the teenagers, faces unreadable through their masks. They started to drag their unconscious accomplice into the shadows, where Prince spied his own car. The hood was open. The engine was gone. Looked like they wouldn’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

“Shit. We need to do something before they come back,” whispered Prince, pulling away from the window.

Monica squinted as she looked around the bedroom. She opened the door to the walk-in closet. “There’re some wood planks in here. Maybe we can board up the window…?” she suggested.

“We can board up all the windows,” Prince told her… “except for this one,” he added, nodding at the broken pane. “We’ll use that to see outside.” He retrieved some tools from the suitcase. Monica had told him to leave them behind when they’d moved out of their parents’ house—they were heavy—but now she was glad that he’d packed them anyway.

Prince dragged the planks out of the closet and left them in a pile. He picked up a hammer and went to nail one of the boards over a window at the end of the hall. He swore as he hit his thumb. “Fuck.” The sun was peeking over the horizon, but it was still barely light enough to see.

Monica and Hadrian started boarding up the other windows. They spent all day securing the place, and it was dark again before they knew it. They were all making a lot of noise, but there was nothing they could do about that.

Unfortunately for them, the sound attracted some unwanted attention.

“This was a shit idea.” Hadrian glanced through the gaps in the boarded window. There were more than a few eyes glinting in the darkness outside, glaring at them. “Now they know we’re in here,” he told Prince.

“They already knew we were in here, dumbass. A purger broke through the window and tried to kill us, remember?”

“Oh… yeah. I guess you’re right.”

With all the windows boarded up, there was nothing to do except meander around the house. Hadrian went to the living room and thought about turning the TV on, but he wasn’t in the mood.

He looked at the leftover pizza on the coffee table. He was hungry, but it had been sitting out all night. The power was still gone. The refrigerator was useless.

Hadrian sighed. No eating today.

As he reentered the foyer, Hadrian heard a scratching noise coming from the other side of the basement door. He panicked initially, but when he listened closer… was that mewling?

Hadrian stepped closer. He put a hand on the doorknob and opened the basement door, but only a little. An orange tabby cat slunk through the gap.

“Have you been in there the whole time?” Hadrian questioned, staring at the cat in disbelief. He reached down to pet it, but the cat batted his hand away and hissed. It ran past him and darted through the gap between Prince’s legs—he’d been watching from behind.

The cat jumped up onto a cabinet in the foyer and stared at Hadrian disdainfully. “Tch. Cats are lame anyway,” he muttered as he shut the basement door again. “Wait… Prince, do you hear that?”

There was a strange noise outside. Tires screeched along asphalt to a standstill. There was a loud electrical bang as a pair of headlamps were abruptly switched on outside, flooding the living room with a bright light.

A van had pulled in front of the house, facing them and shining its headlights into the room. Six mobsters got out and stared at the house silently. One of them made eye contact with Prince as he peered through the boarded window. The teenager backed away. He beckoned Hadrian to follow him upstairs.

“Prince? What’s happening?” Monica asked when she saw him.

“More gangsters. Six.” Prince paused as he looked outside again. “They’re just standing there…”

Prince’s brow furrowed in thought. It felt like ages before he spoke again. “I’m staying awake tonight. The rest of you sleep,” he told everyone as he picked up his bat and paced around the room. “I’ll wake you up if something happens.”

“Prince, are you sure? We should sleep in shifts,” offered Monica.

“No. It’s fine,” the eldest refused, waving the suggestion away.

Everyone else got into bed, but Prince walked over to the broken bedroom window again. The mobsters were still staring at the house intently. He stared back, determined. It was going to be another long night.

Chapter III – Tick Tock

It was dead silent. Light from the mobster van’s headlamps was still streaming into the house, but they hadn’t tried to get inside. Prince leaned against the wall, nodding off with his baseball bat in hand. He’d been awake for hours. His eyes began to close.

The sound of glass breaking pierced the night once again. Prince snapped to attention. He heard wood splinter and nails clink against the floor as the mafiosos pried the boards off a window downstairs. He opened his mouth, about to shout for the other kids to wake up, but he instead decided to shake them awake instead. They’d lose the element of surprise if the mobsters figured out they weren’t sleeping.

“Monica, wake up,” Prince hissed, shaking Monica in her bed. Her eyes snapped open.

“What? Did they break in?” Monica asked. She rolled out of bed hurriedly and grabbed Stephanie, dragging her off her bed as well. “Steph, we have to get up. There’re more bad guys.”

“They’re downstairs. Maybe we can get the jump on them,” Prince whispered as he shook Hadrian awake as well. He hesitated before pointing to the hammers they’d discarded after fortifying the house. “Grab one,” he said to Monica and Hadrian. He didn’t want to kill anyone… but these mobsters weren’t leaving them with many options.

Prince grimaced as Monica picked up a hammer. “Actually… Monica, you take my bat. I’ll use a hammer,” he decided.

“Huh? Why?” Monica wondered.

Prince shrugged. “I don’t want you to have to kill anyone,” he admitted.

Monica shot him a look. “I’ll be fine, Prince. Worry about yourself.”

There were footsteps below. The mob was inside. Prince motioned for everyone to follow him.

The mafiosos ascended the stairs. They slunk down the hall. The one at the front reached out to push the door open, hoping to attack a few feckless civilians in their sleep… but he saw nobody.

The door behind them opened instead. Monica buried her hammer in the nearest mobster’s cranium, then wrenched it out. Blood spattered against the wall next to his head, and then he fell onto the carpet with a soft thump, dead. The other mafiosos whipped around at the noise.

Five left.

Monica was clutching the hammer to her chest now, wide-eyed and shaking a little bit at what she had just done, so Hadrian pushed his way past her before the mobsters figured out what was happening. He swung his own hammer at the closest one. The mafioso had no time to raise his crowbar as Hadrian struck him in the forehead, cracking his purge mask. He slumped to the ground as well, knocked out.

Four.

Prince jumped out of the wardrobe and rushed out of the bedroom while the mobsters were facing away from it. One of them bashed his crowbar into Hadrian’s chest, who stumbled backwards, wheezing. Prince managed to strike the side of the aggressor’s head. It bounced off the wall next to him. He heard something break. Maybe the drywall. Maybe his skull.

Three.

Another mobster rushed Prince. He swiftly retreated into the bedroom until he was standing at the broken window. The mobster followed. As he lunged with his crowbar, Prince sidestepped and took the chance to grab the mafioso, hurling him through the window. He landed on the concrete with a sickening crunch and didn’t get up.

Two.

Monica came to her senses. It was just in time, too, because Hadrian was about to be ganged up on by the remaining invaders. Prince came out of the bedroom. “You go left. I go right,” he whispered to Monica. She nodded.

One of the mafiosos lashed out at Hadrian with his crowbar. He raised his weapon to defend himself, but the hammer was too small to block anything. Hadrian yelped as his forearm took the hit. He dropped his weapon as Monica brained the offending mobster.

One.

Prince raised his bat high above his head at the same time and brought it down on top of the other mafioso’s head.

Zero.

The kids stood in silence for a while, breathing heavily. They didn’t hear anyone else in the house. After a minute, Monica spoke.

“Steph, you can come out now,” she said. Stephanie emerged from the guest bedroom wordlessly and clung to her sister’s leg. Monica took Hadrian’s wounded forearm and prodded at the injury. He winced.

“I don’t feel a break. Maybe it’s just cracked. I left my first aid kit in the car,” Monica admitted nervously. She knew it wasn’t safe to go outside right now.

Prince pondered. “We can check the basement first. Maybe Pete left something useful in there,” he advised. He retrieved the flashlight from the bedside table and switched it on as the kids moved down to the first floor. They walked past the window that the mobsters had entered through. Wooden planks and shards of glass lay on the carpet. It crunched under their shoes as they stepped over it.

“Didn’t you leave this closed?” Prince asked Hadrian as he came to the basement, shining his light inside. The door was ajar. He quickly realized what a stupid idea it was to point the flashlight into it. There was a chance someone was lurking there. He turned it off.

Hadrian started backing away. “Yeah, I did… I think?” he whispered.

There were footsteps again. Loud ones.

“Shit,” said Prince.

Hadrian hesitated. “Wait, I think it’s just one guy. We could take him.” Indeed, only one pair of feet could be heard, and yet, the floor shook as the basement dweller began to climb the stairs.

“No! That guy sounds huge! Hide!” Prince whispered harshly, pulling Hadrian—who winced again as his forearm was jostled—along with him. They and the girls ran away from the basement door as silently as they could.

Prince put his hand on the sill of the broken window, about to jump outside, but he saw too many masked men in the shadows. He doubled back and whirled around, searching for somewhere to hide. There was only the storage cabinet in the kitchen. All four of them squeezed in. It was a tight fit. They almost couldn’t breathe, but they all froze as the trespasser reached the top of the basement stairs. Prince peered through the thin gap between the cabinet doors. The guy was so tall that he needed to duck underneath the doorframe. There was a faint ticking noise emanating from him.

The ground quaked with every step Larry Clockturn took. His golden LED eyes lit up in the dark. The glow glinted off of the violet mask on his eyes. He was far more daunting in person. As he walked near the shattered window, the moonlight illuminated his tarnished metal face and the steel wires that served as his beard.

He passed the open kitchen door. Monica saw a large wind-up key affixed to his back. I told you he was an automaton, she wanted to whisper, but this wasn’t a good time.

The mob boss walked past the kitchen and out of sight, but the kids heard his footsteps move to the stairwell. The first stair, decayed with age, splintered and caved under his weight. Larry cursed and swung his crowbar at the wall in anger, annihilating the plasterboard. He tried the second step. It groaned under his mass, but it held this time. He made his way to the second floor.

Prince hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, but now he was almost gasping for air as he pushed the cabinet doors open and darted towards the basement. The other kids ran after him.

He swore internally as he almost tripped on the first step. It was still dark in there. He turned on the flashlight just long enough to make it to the bottom.

It was chilly. The kids huddled together in the darkness.

“H-he knows we’re still in the house,” stammered Monica, voice shaking. “He was here when you shined the flashlight in the first time. He had to have seen it. What are we going to do?”

Prince said nothing. He was out of ideas. All they could do was shut up and hope Larry didn’t think to come back here.

But the mechanical ticking returned. Larry did come back.

The automaton’s silhouette appeared at the top of the stairwell. The light from his eyes, still glowing golden in the dark, faintly illuminated his face.

There was a tinny creak as Larry tilted his head, staring into the basement. It was pitch black inside. Maybe he couldn’t see them, the kids thought.

Larry’s lips parted into a malicious grin. Prince flinched in surprise. He hadn’t realized the mob boss could emote with his metal features… but he didn’t come inside. Instead, he turned from the basement door and walked away, his steel exterior clanking as he moved.

There was a loud crack as Larry forced the front door open instead of leaving through the window he’d broken.

“What an asshole,” Prince grumbled.

Monica touched Prince’s arm. “Why didn’t he come inside?” she wondered.

Prince shrugged. He didn’t know either.

“Maybe he’s playing with us.”

It wasn’t a comforting idea, but they didn’t hear Larry’s footsteps anymore, so…

“Turn the flashlight on. We have to search this place,” Monica told Prince. He did.

The shelves were cluttered with supplies and knickknacks Uncle Pete had left behind. Pete, Prince suddenly remembered. He hoped the guy was alright, but there was nothing he could do for his uncle right now.

A good portion of the items were littered across the floor as well. Larry and his mobsters had trashed the place. Prince swept the flashlight across the ground.

“There.”

He pointed to a discarded first aid kit.

Monica picked it up. “Thought we’d never catch a break.” she took a broken piece of shelf as well and assembled a makeshift splint for Hadrian’s forearm. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold until they figured out how to get to a hospital.

In the meantime, Prince perched the flashlight on a shelf to rummage through some carboard boxes. “Oh my god. Finally,” he exclaimed as he pulled out a bag of cheese puffs from one of them. The box was full of junk food, but it felt like the kids had struck gold after having nothing to eat for a day and a half. They gorged themselves, but once they were full, they were unsure of what to do next.

Prince looked pensive. “We can’t stay down here,” he eventually said. They had no clue how long the purge was going to last, and they couldn’t subsist on their meager supply of junk food for long.

Monica didn’t say anything at first. Prince was right, but the streets were still teeming with every kind of criminal.

She had an idea.

Chapter IV – Delivery

“This is dumb as hell.”

“Just put it on,” urged Monica.

Prince finished buttoning up the tuxedo. He pulled the purge mask over his face.

They’d swiped the disguise off of a dead purger they’d left upstairs. Monica reached for the second mask that they’d looted, but Prince stopped her.

“Nope. You’re staying here,” he told her.

“You serious? You can’t go out there alone.”

“Yes the fuck I can. Besides, someone needs to stay with those two.” Prince motioned to Stephanie’s tiny form and Hadrian with his arm in a splint.

Monica sighed. “Fine… be careful.”

Prince picked up one of the dead mobsters’ crowbars. Monica took a step back and looked him up and down. “I think it’ll work. Just act casual,” she said.

 After peering outside, Prince grabbed the windowsill and vaulted over it. The mobsters lurking nearby didn’t even glance at him twice.

 The nearest convenience store was just up the road. Prince could see it from here, but as he started walking, his shoe slid on the ice beneath him. He almost fell. The wet asphalt had frozen overnight.

There was a loud guffaw from a group of mafiosos passing him by, but then one of them slipped on the ice as well and fell on his face. The other gangsters laughed even louder. “Man, shut y’all’s asses!” he hollered at them.

Prince had frozen in place for a few seconds, almost thinking he’d blown his cover, but he quickly regained his bearings. He left the gangsters to bicker amongst themselves. They seemed a lot less menacing when they weren’t trying to kill him.

As he continued towards the convenience store, Prince passed by the house of one of his neighbors. Of course, he hadn’t had a chance to meet them yet, but he still wondered if they were doing alright.

There was an earsplitting scream from inside the house, then a gunshot. The distant voice of a mobster reached Prince’s ears. “Aww, come on! I was gonna play with her first!”

Prince scrunched his face up in disgust under his mask. Nevermind. Fuck these guys.

He made it to the convenience store. The place had been nearly bled dry, but there was some fruit left in the produce crates. Prince opened the sack that he’d taken with him. He reached for an apple.

There were two mobsters sitting on the counter nearby. They turned their heads towards Prince. They were masked, but he could feel them giving him an odd look. He faltered, then grabbed the edge of the fruit crate, tipping the entirety of its contents into his sack. The mobsters looked away, losing interest.

Phew. Prince threw the sack over his shoulder and almost ran back to the house.

Monica met him at the basement door. Panic flashed through her mind until she realized it was Prince. “What did you get?” she asked as they returned to the basement.

“Fruit.”

“Lame,” said Stephanie.

Prince took his mask off and shoved an apple into her tiny hands. “No, it isn’t. You need it after eating all that junk food.” He didn’t notice the sound of a motorcycle pulling up to the front of the house.

There was commotion in the kitchen upstairs. Utensils and cookware clattered against the floor tiles.

Prince foisted his crowbar over his shoulder as he turned to the stairs. “I gotta say, I’m getting real tired of this shit,” he muttered to Monica before he returned to the ground floor.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he hesitated. This dude was kinda big, he thought as he scrutinized the person wrecking his kitchen. There was no time for Prince to change his mind, though—the mobster saw him.

“There you are.”

He sounded vaguely familiar, but Prince had no time to muse as the guy charged at him.

Prince responded in kind. He rushed at the mobster and raised his own crowbar to block the blow. There was a sharp clang as their weapons met.

It was almost like a sword duel, though not nearly as graceful. Prince was no trained fighter, but neither was the mafioso, apparently. He accidentally hooked a vase with his crowbar, sending it shattering against the floor. The opponents staggered around the foyer, neither of them gaining the upper hand at first

The mobster couldn’t get a hit in. He grew impatient and lunged forward. He swung too wide. Prince backpedaled away from the strike, and now, for an instant, his foe was wide open.

Prince delivered an uppercut to the mafioso’s face with his crowbar. The force of the strike knocked his mask askew.

The mafioso collapsed to the ground heavily, dazed and confused. “Ugh…”

Alright, Prince had absolutely met this guy before. He reached down and pulled the guy’s mask all the way off.

Prince stared.

“Dude, are you fucking kidding me?”

It was the pizza guy from a couple days ago. He sat up gingerly, rubbing his chin, and spat a glob of blood onto the carpet. “Shouldn’t have fuckin’ stiffed me, you asshole!”

Prince threw his arms up in exasperation, still gripping his crowbar. “I told you I didn’t have any more money! And you come into my house and trash the place over it? What is your problem?”

The delivery guy eyed Prince’s crowbar. He straightened his bowtie as he spoke. “OK, don’t be like that, man. A guy paid me to do it. You’re not the only one hurting for cash,” he said, pointing his finger at the boy. “The big metal dude,” he continued. “I’ve been running with the mafia for a while now, but this morning he shoved a crisp hundred into my hand and told me to come in here. Take you guys out. And, uh, he looked like he was gonna kill my ass if I said no, so… here I am, I guess.”

Prince glared at him for a moment. “Man, just get the hell out,” he said, pointing his crowbar at the open door.

The pizza guy looked outside. “Uh… actually, I think I’m gonna chill in here for a while.”

“Excuse me? No, you are not. You just tried to kill me,” Prince snapped.

The guy held up his hands in surrender. “The big guy is gonna fillet me like a fish when he finds out I didn’t get rid of you guys! I’m not going back out there,” he said. “Besides, he paid me in advance, man. I ain’t gotta do shit no more.”

Prince mulled it over. This guy wouldn’t get out of his house, but Prince definitely didn’t want to kill him, either.

“Whatever. Fine. What should I call you?” he asked.

The pizza guy stood up unsteadily. “Isaiah.”

 “OK, Isaiah, you said you’ve been running with the mob for a while. Any clue how we might get away from here without dying?” Prince asked.

Isaiah deliberated for a moment.

“The sewers. The mafia normally uses it to move around the city, but It’s empty now that they’re on the streets…” He paused again as he formulated a plan. “I overheard a li’l bit of intel. The national guard made it to 5th Street. We head in that direction. Get behind their lines, where it’s safe. Then we can exit the sewer. No sweat.”

Prince didn’t have any better ideas. “Fine. Get in here, man. Leave the crowbar,” he warned Isaiah as the ruffian reached for his fallen weapon. “No funny shit.”

“I wasn’t going to do shit,” he muttered as they descended into the basement.

The other three kids drew back suspiciously as they saw Isaiah. “Prince? Who is that?”

“He’s the pizza delivery guy,” Prince replied. “From the day we moved in, I mean. He’s…”

Prince gave Isaiah the side-eye.

“He’s chill,” he decided. “And he told me how we can get out of here. We’ll walk through the sewers until we meet the national guard.”

The other kids glanced at each other. “Unless you guys would rather stay here…?” Prince added. They all heard a bout of submachine gunfire in the house across the street.

“Nope. Let’s get out of here,” Monica said. “Tomorrow morning?”

Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “Why are we waiting?”

“It’s midnight. We gotta get some sleep,” Prince said.

Isaiah’s eyebrows crept even higher. “You guys have been sleeping at night this whole time? You can’t be doing that shit during the killing purge! How are you people still alive?”

The kids murmured inaudibly. They didn’t really know, either.

Isaiah shook his head incredulously. “Whatever. I don’t know where you got that disguise, Prince, but there had better be more. Your buddies will get jumped in no time if they go out looking like that,” he said.

Prince retrieved some more suits and a couple of crowbars from the dead mobsters upstairs. The second floor was starting to smell really bad. He was glad they were leaving soon.

The disguises were a little ill-fitting on Monica and Hadrian, but Stephanie wasn’t going to be able to wear one at all.

“What are you going to do about her?” Isaiah asked.

Prince scratched his head as he thought. “I saw a manhole cover real close by. We’ll just have her walk in the middle of us ‘til we make it into the sewer.”

“If you say so.”

The group stepped out. Stephanie stood in the middle of the bunch, hopefully obscuring her from the mobsters’ sight.

They had almost made it to the manhole cover when they heard a crash in the distance. A shrill alarm pierced their ears. Someone had smashed one of the convenience store’s windows open and set it off. The group turned to see who was responsible.

They saw a shape with glowing eyes through the glass door of the store as he strode into view. Larry downed a can of cola before crushing it in his hand and throwing it aside. He turned to look at the street.

The automaton looked blasé as he surveyed the darkened neighborhood, but his expression shifted to one of suspicion as his eyes fell on the group. Then he looked furious.

Their disguises hadn’t fooled him. Larry kicked the door open and started towards the group.

“God fucking damn it!” roared Isaiah as he hauled the manhole cover off the ground and thrust it aside.

“Get in!”

Chapter V – Clockturn

Everyone clambered down the ladder and into the sewer.

Stephanie held her nose. “It smells really bad in here.”

Something heavy tumbled into the manhole after them, landing on Prince’s head. “Ow! What the hell?” he exclaimed.

It was the same cat that had come out of the basement earlier, and it started yowling as Prince pried it off his scalp.

“Guys, he’s coming! Fucking run!” Isaiah shouted at the group. He’d broken into a sprint as soon as his feet touched the floor. “And shut that cat up! It’s gonna give our location away.”

Prince set the cat on the ground. Thankfully, it stopped screeching, but it did follow them.

The kids raced after Isaiah. “Do you know where you’re going?” Prince panted.

“Yeah, I’ve been down here before. Just stay behind me,” Isaiah assured him. “Take this right!”

As they rounded the corner, Monica risked a glimpse behind her. The concrete ground fractured beneath Larry as he jumped into the manhole after them.

The corridors twisted and turned as Isaiah led everyone further into the sewers. He barreled through iron gates in their path. Some of the paths had collapsed and been replaced by flimsy timber.

Hadrian stumbled. A board slipped out from under him. He was about to fall into the fetid sewage, but Prince reached to fish him out.

Isaiah got there before him. Hadrian’s shoe had just touched the water when the mafioso forcefully pulled him back onto the walkway.

“Hey, be careful! His arm is hurt!” scolded Monica. Isaiah simply jabbed his finger at Hadrian’s foot.

Hadrian wiggled his toes. The tip of his shoe was gone.

“I forgot to let you guys know. I saw some other mobsters pouring something into the storm drains,” Isaiah explained as he continued to run. “Whatever it was, it was corrosive as hell, ‘cause the drain stared melting. Don’t fall in there,” he finished, pointing at the water channel.

Isaiah veered left into a round clearing in the sewer. He came face to face with another gate, but he almost bashed his head into it as it refused to open. The kids skidded to a stop as he grabbed the bars and rattled the door. “This wasn’t locked before!” he shouted in frustration.

The mobster wedged his crowbar through the edge of the gate and tried to pry it open, but it wouldn’t budge. The kids glanced at each other anxiously. “Maybe Larry doesn’t know where we went,” Monica whispered.

No such luck.

They heard the ticking of his cogs before they saw him.

Larry rounded the corner. He was moving at a leisurely pace, but his footsteps were still fairly thunderous as he strolled across the improvised wooden bridge.

The automaton came to a halt as he reached the other side of the walkway. The kids could only stare at him. He was blocking their only escape.

Larry put a hand on his crowbar, leaning on it like a cane. He ran a hand through his wiry beard. His LED eyes swiveled as he looked the group over.

A lanky delivery boy, down on his luck.

Some high school dropout with a hero complex and his doormat of a sister.

A kid with a broken arm. His youngest sibling, hugging her teddy bear to her chest.

Larry laughed to himself and booted the wooden board behind him. There was a low sizzle as it fell into the waterway and began to disintegrate. The kids were trapped. His gaze shifted back to the group.

“What do you think you’re doing, Isaiah?” said Larry in his metallic peal.

His voice sent a chill up the kids’ spines. It was sonorous and hollow, filling the entire corridor.

Isaiah didn’t reply. He only yanked his crowbar out of the still-locked gate. It was futile. He walked to the front of the group.

If Isaiah wouldn’t talk, Larry would. “It’s not too late for you to follow orders, young man. Get rid of them.”

Isaiah didn’t move.

The crime lord raised an eyebrow. “Interesting decision.” Larry lifted his crowbar with one hand and rested it over his shoulder as he advanced on Isaiah.

“Hold on, boss, I-”

Isaiah cut himself off as Larry swung his crowbar. The mobster managed to duck under the blow so that it connected with the wall instead. The stone bricks cracked under Larry’s strength.

There was no reasoning with this guy.

No one knew how they were going to take Larry down, but he couldn’t go after all of them at once. Everyone scattered across the room, but the littlest was too slow.

Larry grinned as he reached down and snatched Stephanie by her tiny arm.

“No!” cried Prince. He rushed towards the automaton.

The cat was quicker. Prince had almost forgotten it was there, but it leapt onto Larry’s face, scratching and hissing. He cursed and released Stephanie. Prince pulled her away and swept her into his arms as the mob boss reached for the feline instead.

Its claws did nothing except piss Larry off. He ripped the cat off his face and flung it aside as he straightened his tie. It hit the wall before sliding to the floor and going limp, still mewling pitifully.

Stephanie normally would have begun crying by now, but she must have known it was no use this time. She gazed down at the teddy bear in her hands. It was the only toy she’d been able to take with her when the siblings had left their parents. Its voice box didn’t work anymore, but she turned it over and looked at the pull-string attached to it. She looked up at the golden wind-up key on Larry’s back. Still in Prince’s arms, she reached for it.

Stephanie twisted the wind-up key counterclockwise with all her diminutive might while Larry’s back was still turned. A steely bang sounded from inside him, followed closely by the jarring noise of an engine backfiring. The automaton flinched violently. He nearly toppled over, but he caught himself and whirled around, lunging with his crowbar furiously as he did. Prince backpedaled hurriedly, but the very edge of the crowbar just barely caught Stephanie’s cheek, ripping off a layer of skin.

“Bastard!” roared Prince. He set Stephanie down behind him. She ran into her sister’s arms. Monica steered her over to Hadrian before she went to confront their aggressor.

The group had figured out Larry’s weak point, and now he was a lot more wary. Prince, Isaiah, and Monica circled around him, but he’d turn and lunge again whenever one of them took so much as a step towards him. The three comrades glanced at each other. They all knew one of them had to engage the automaton while another tried to reach his key, but none of them particularly wanted to be stomped into red paste.

Before anyone grew audacious enough to rush Larry, the kids heard yet another odd noise. There was a resonant clang as the automaton’s steel plates snapped apart along the seams. A deafening mechanical whirr filled the sewer. All of a sudden, there was a cyclone of buzzsaws where he’d been standing a second ago.

Larry charged at Prince, who had to dive out of the way to avoid being sliced to gory ribbons.

Blood sprayed against the stone brick wall. Prince cried out as he hit the cold floor. He’d been too slow. The blades had caught him anyway. Fortunately, his arm was still attached, but there were several deep lacerations. Larry had sliced him all the way to the bone.

A pool of red bloomed under Prince as he collapsed. Monica rushed over to where she’d dropped her first aid kit. With wounds like that, he was going to bleed to death if she didn’t do something, but she couldn’t get near Prince while Larry was standing between them.

The automaton’s buzzsaws ground to a stop and clicked back into his casing. His plates snapped shut again as he stood above Prince.

Larry had his back to Hadrian now. He was so close. He had to do something. Hadrian ripped the splint off his own arm. He knew he was probably about to make his injury worse, but that was far better than dying here.

As Larry raised his crowbar to finish Prince off, he felt a pair of hands on his wind-up key.

Hadrian turned the key counterclockwise. Larry grunted in pain again as even more of his gears jammed, but he swung his weapon behind himself immediately this time.

Hadrian reeled as the crowbar struck his torso. He gasped for breath as he hit the concrete. Great. Now he had both a cracked forearm and a cracked rib cage. Larry turned away from Prince, heading for Hadrian instead.

Monica bolted to Prince’s side and started tying a torniquet around his bleeding arm. As she tended to him, Isaiah stepped in between Larry and Hadrian.

Larry narrowed his eyes. “Get the fuck outta the way, kid.”

Isaiah didn’t.

Larry scoffed and brought his crowbar down upon Isaiah with one hand. Isaiah gripped his own weapon as hard as he could with both hands and held it up to shield himself.

Their weapons clashed. Isaiah staggered, but he managed to remain on his feet. His crowbar vibrated in his hands with the aftershock of Larry’s blow, but he maintained his grip on it.

Larry raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised. Perhaps Isaiah wasn’t as lanky as he’d thought. He shook his head at the mobster.

“Little shit. I gave you a job when you were about to be homeless, and this is how you repay me?”

Larry attacked again, grasping his crowbar with both hands now. Isaiah did lose his weapon this time. It skittered across the concrete and into the corrosive water.

Monica sprang for Larry’s wind-up key. He swung his crowbar into her face without looking at her. She flew back and hit the ground, unconscious. Prince dragged himself towards her. He was starting to become lightheaded from the blood loss.

Larry swung again. With nothing to guard himself with, Isaiah took the hit squarely in the chest. He crumpled to the floor, winded.

The automaton circled him. He gave the mafioso a kick in the ribs with his steel-toed shoe.

“Come on. Is that all you can take?”

Isaiah choked out a couple of choice words. “Fuck… yourself…”

Larry scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but the cat hauled itself from the stone floor and launched itself at his face again, caterwauling and clawing with renewed fervor.

That was all Prince needed. He scrambled to his feet and leapt at Larry’s key. He grabbed it with his uninjured arm and wrenched it counterclockwise one more time.

Something rattled inside the automaton. His gears shuddered to a halt. There was a hiss as steam escaped from the vents on his face. His glowing golden eyes blinked off.

Larry lurched forwards and hit the ground with a crash, deactivated.

Epilogue

Prince opened his eyes blearily. He instantly shut them again. The lights were unpleasantly bright. He tried to shield his face, but the ensuing jolt of pain jarred him fully awake. Oh, right. He’d taken a buzzsaw to the arm.

He used his other arm to cover his eyes as he opened them. Prince was lying in a hospital bed.

“How’s it going, man?” said a voice from the left.

The boy turned his head. Isaiah was in the next bed.

“Is everyone else alright?” Prince rasped.

“Yeah, looks like it. Hadrian and Monica are right over there,” Isaiah told him, gesturing with his head to his left. “And there’s the li’l one,” he added.

Prince looked at the bed across from him. Stephanie was clambering down. She ran over to Prince and grabbed his hand, bouncing excitedly. “You’re OK!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, Steph. Ow. Don’t do that,” Prince croaked as Stephanie jostled his bandaged arm, but he was smiling. “How did we get here?”

Isaiah let his head fall back onto his pillow, brow furrowed in thought. “Uh. You beat the big dude. Or disabled him, at least. I don’t know. You passed out right after, and then… I think I heard Stephanie crying for a while. Someone above us heard it, too. They lowered a ladder into the sewer. Yeah, there was another manhole above us, apparently, but no ladder attached. Hah,” Isaiah laughed shortly. “They thought we were mafiosos at first, but I guess they figured out we weren’t when they saw Larry on the ground. And then they brought us here.”

The hinges on the hospital door squealed as a nurse walked in. “Oh! Some of you are awake,” she observed. “Don’t disturb your big bro right now, young lady. He’s going to need a lot of rest,” the nurse told Stephanie as she carried her back over to her own hospital bed.

“As for you…” the nurse examined her clipboard. “Prince Aguilar? Emancipated minor…” she read. “I’ve been told that you got into a fight with Larry Clockturn. You’re all lucky to be alive.”

“You ain’t lying,” Isaiah muttered. The nurse shot him a look.

“You should all be fine once we’re done patching you up,” the nurse continued. “But…” She checked her clipboard again. “Monica Aguilar appears to have taken quite the blow to the head. We’re monitoring her, but we aren’t going to be able to assess if there’s any brain damage until she wakes up.”

Prince sat up. “Brain damage?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. We would be able to tell by now if it was serious,” the nurse assured Prince, urging him back down onto the bed. “At most, she has a concussion. She’ll be alright.”

Prince lay down again gingerly. “OK… I guess.” He was silent for a moment… but he was also curious.

“What happened to Larry?”

“Larry Clockturn? The police are handling that. They haven’t given me many details, I’m afraid,” the nurse told Prince. “All I know is that they haven’t moved his body yet. And the so-called ‘purge’ is over, by the way. Most of the mafia turned tail and ran after they figured out Clockturn was gone,” she laughed. “National guard didn’t encounter much resistance after that.”

Prince didn’t ask anything else. It was the nurse’s turn, now.

“It says here that four of you are siblings. Prince, Monica, Hadrian, and Stephanie Aguilar. And Isaiah… Smith,” she said, walking over to Isaiah’s bed. “It is to my understanding that you are affiliated with the mafia.”

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “Uh, I mean, like-“

The nurse held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not a police officer, but don’t be surprised if they come in here to question you guys at some point. I just wanted to warn you about it, so you aren’t blindsided,” she explained.

“Yeah… yeah, OK. Cool,” said Isaiah, even though it was not at all cool.

The nurse nodded. “Well, that’s it for now,” she said as she turned to leave. “Just sit tight. The doctor will be along soon.”

Prince took a deep breath. Larry was deactivated. They were out of the sewers. The purge was over. They were in a hospital at last. Everything was fine again.

In the sewers, however, things were not so fine. Police tape lined the walls of the room Larry had collapsed in, cold and unmoving. Officers surrounded him.

One of them looked up at the manhole high above them. “We could airlift him…?”

“Through that tiny opening? I’m not so sure,” his Lieutenant responded. No one was certain about how they were going to get this colossus out of the sewer and into police custody.

“We might have to move him all the way through the tunnel. Into the nearest water-”

The officer was cut off and his head jerked back as a bullet pierced the middle of his forehead.

The other cops drew their service weapons. The round had come from the other side of the locked iron gate. They returned fire. So did their assailants.

There was no cover in the room. More officers dropped dead. One of them tried to speak into his radio. “Shots fired. All units to the 5th-”

He was shot dead as well before he could finish.

The Lieutenant glimpsed something through the metal bars of the gate. Something green and glowing. He fired reflexively. The round ricocheted off metal. He stared into the darkness, confused, but there was no time to ponder as bullets continued to whizz past his ears.

“We’re taking too many casualties! Fall back!” yelled the Lieutenant.

The remaining officers ran from the gate and disappeared around the bend of the tunnel, leaving Larry’s body behind.

The mobsters lowered their guns. Their leader, who had been watching from the back of the troupe, made her way to the iron gate. Her high heels clicked against the concrete. The sound echoed through the now-quiet passageway.

She towered above her cohorts. The lock on the gate broke easily as she raised her slender arm and forced it open with one hand.

The lady reached the felled automaton. She walked around his inert figure and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Take him,” she ordered.

The mobsters, with some difficulty, lifted him up and carried him into the small speedboat they’d used to traverse the sewer’s water channels. The motor roared to life.

As the helmsman steered them back to the river outside, he glanced at his boss. “We’re not gonna reactivate him, Miss Gearwise?”

“No,” she answered shortly.

“Then… what are you going to do with him?”

The lady’s icy gaze fell on Larry. The corners of her metallic green lips curved up into a small smirk.

“I have a few ideas.”

[holmesillustrations]

Left: “It was more than a stain. It was the well-marked print of a thumb.” Norwood Builder, FD Steele, Colliers Oct 31 1903 Characters: Watson, Lestrade, Holmes

Right: “I held him in my arms.” Boscombe Valley, Sidney Paget, The Strand Oct/Nov 1891 Characters: James and Charles McCarthy