#when he loses his temper all hell breaks loose

[cherriesandsulphur]

The Archdevil Supreme and his Archduchess.

[orphicrose]

I got bit by a spider a while ago and it made me come up with this request idea, imgiane Alastor x reader were they were already together and one day they come to him with a spider bite and then he aboustly looses it on Angel even tho the reader persists it wasn't him it was an actual spider and AL is like "doesn't matter! I'm not letting any spider harm you!" And Angel is like "HEY! IM A SPIDER DEMON NOT A SPIDER! AND I DONT BITE...unless ya want me too, and what are ya a spider racist?" And its a stupid argument but Alastor is still mad at Angel for a spider bite he didn't cause and Charlie and Vaggue have to break it up. 🤣

Tiny spider

This was really fun to write. Thank you so much for the suggestion

_______________𖤐

Alastor was always your night in shining armour when it came to bugs. Hearing your squeals of terror from the room next door to him, he could always safely assume it was because of some sort of mutated beetle or spider. And he was right 90% of the time. He’d swiftly eliminate the threat, sometimes letting it outside. Sometimes calling over niffty to have her fun with it. This time, though, he was too late. It got you. Seeping into your skin with its sharp fangs before you had the chance to notice it was on you.

Flinging your hand about in sheer panic, you let out a cry for help. Alastor assuming someone had murdered you, materialising into the room next to you hearing his hands. Ready to smite someone with his black magic at any given moment.

You turned, showing him the tiny red mark at the end of your finger. He calmed down, posture adjusting itself. He took your hand in his, moving his monocle closer to his eye to get a better look at the microscopic mark the even tinier perpetrator had left on you.

“What happened my love? A paper cut?” He mindlessly questioned to the sobbing face in front of his.

“It got me…” you almost wept from the panic.

“What got you, my darling” his arms slithered around your waist to pull you into an embrace.

“A spider”

His pupils dilated at the sentence, his beloved was hurt and his instincts tell him to seek justice. Arms pushed you away and within the blink of an eye, was on a search for said spider. There is was, all of its arms waving about in front of him, golden teeth bared ready to attack its next victim.

“Yeah so, now I have to work all day to make up for it tomorrow” angels arms waved around, exaggerating his story to the cat behind the bar in front of him.

“Uh huh.” He responded nonchalantly , cleaning a glass in his hand with a mouldy cloth. His face slowly lifted to see the spiders face, but his eyes widened when he saw the enraged Alastor behind him. Thinking it was for him, but almost relieved when Alastor reached for Angels neck from behind.

Angie screeched in a mix of confusion and fear, managing to twist his flexible body around in the deers clench. Soon being thrown to the floor “What the fuck are ya doing there, Alastor?” His voice was nervous, backing away as he was planted below him.

“You bit my darling y/n. Spider” he walked slowly toward the spider, before he burst out laughing. Leaving the confused Alastor with a tilt in his neck. “You think this is funny?”

Angel struggled to form a word between breaths of air. “Let me guess. Y/n got bit by a spider and you’re automatically gunning for me?” He got up, hand on his knee to help him.

“That’s a bit discriminatory to us spiders, we don’t all have 8 legs yanno?” He dusted his blazer off and wiped away a tear from his eye. Alastor losing his temper the more he spoke. Someone needed to pay for the harm, he thought.

Within seconds hell broke loose. Charlie and Vaggie rushed to the lobby after hearing something break. To be met with glasses being throw at the wall, a black tentacle slapping husk around the face, angels golden tooth glaring as he shot anything that moved and a fire In Alastors eye that said “death to all”. It was mayhem.

Before they had a chance to react, another scream came from the living room. Stopping everyone from what they were doing… except for niffty. Niffty was still cleaning up after everyone like a mad man.

Rushing to the room next door, the group stopped in their tracks to find you hiding on the mantle piece above the fire place.

“My dear? What’s the matter?” Alastor spoke first, stepping into the room.

“SPIDER!! ITS BACK TO FINISH ME OFF!” You screamed, pointing at the tiny black spec on the floor.

“Oooohh…” everyone in the door way collectively hummed, realising the mistake.

“what have you got to say to me now,huh?”Angel poked his shoulder, the demon gritting his teeth as his head snapped back.

“There’s still time to kill you, Angel dearest!”

[luvzxr]

Little Pougie

I'm gonna try to make this a little more formatted but I also enjoy writing these little notes for the chapter so I can interact with people!

Summery; In which fem!reader is the little sister to John B Routledge. Sweet, gentle and innocent. The complete opposite to JJ Maybank but he finds himself falling for her and he can't stop himself doing so.

Pairing; Fem!reader x JJ Maybank

Word Count; 2,473

Masterlist to find previous chapters all together or previous to read chapter 3!

Next chapter.

04. Safe and Sound

"He didn't hurt you, right (Y/n/n)?"

JJ didn't want to seem too obsessive for his own good. He didn't want to confuse the poor girl as to why he was suddenly so frantic- she just went through what he could only imagine was pure hell and here he was causing more stress for her. But he couldn't help it; that was what he was turning into.

He needed to know that she was okay. That was his priority. He didn't know how long this had been going on before he walked in or if the scumbag had ever touched her way before the previous events.

JJ just beat the man senseless for simply having (Y/n) in his grasp. He should have killed him, no one would miss scum like that. He almost scoffed at the thought he let the man off easy, but he couldn't commit murder in the middle of Mr. Carrera's restaurant.

All (Y/n) could do was nod lightly.

He lost control- Right in front of her. The violence he condemned inside of him was now all out on the table and he could see just by how soft her voice was, the way she refused to look him in the eye, or the way she couldn't say a word to him that she was terrified.

He gulped, murmuring lowly, "come with me, Pougie. Please?" placing his hand on her arms, holding them firmly. His eyes bored into her own.

She seemed hesitant. She wanted to leave and be anywhere but here- she wanted to go home, but going home with JJ is what currently caused a mental battle between herself. The boy had just let lose years' worth of rage out onto the poor bastard who made the first attempt to scramble to his feet after a brutal beating, and Sophie practically saved his life from ending.

"Princess," JJ softly spoke, bringing his index finger to lift up her chin, "I would never hurt you."

"I know," her voice was small. She had no reason to fear JJ- he was protecting her, just like he always had and she knew that.

"Come on."

JJ's home was roughly the same size as her own; small but it would do. She found comfort in the mess inside considering she had to deal with it at her own home, so it hadn't made much of a difference.

She had been to his place countless times with John B but had never stayed the night due to the simple fact that JJ preferred to stay with them, for obvious reasons- That being back when his father was still on the Island, of course. As for now, (Y/n) wasn't too sure why he still chose to stay with her and JB- not that she didn't mind- but, he had the place all to himself now.

Empty glass bottles and aluminum cans littered the place, not a single spot wasn't covered by an empty bottle or can that once was filled to the brim with a certain beverage. The place looked completely discarded, which made sense- he didn't necessarily live here, he'd just stop by to pick up whatever he may have needed and leave again.

(Y/n) hadn't forgotten about the numerous altercations she'd witnessed over the years. The beatings JJ had taken right in front of her eyes. And she hadn't forgotten about the hundreds of bruises that formed all over his body afterward.

Over time, the girl slowly grew to despise the older man.

Perhaps 'despise' wasn't a strong enough word to use. She felt she wasn't being cynical enough. His father had no clue just how special his son was- he never gave JJ the chance to show his full potential.

JJ was a quick-tempered and erratic man, hell would break loose around him. Punches would be thrown, blood would be shed and, someone would be twitching and writhing on the floor. That was just part of who JJ was which often seemed to be the only part of him that others noticed, But he had another side to him. The side where he'd take liability for someone else's mistake, and he'd take the downfall because he felt he'd end up in jail sometime down the line, anyways.

He had an overwhelming amount of loyalty to the ones he loved. He'd take the dodged bullet without a single second thought. He'd fight for the things he felt closest to because that's all he had left to fight for. He had nothing to lose.

JJ also held onto the part of him where he knew how to make a bad situation something worth celebrating. He knew how to have a good time, and he knew how to make sure others had just as much of a good time. He was a goofball, something that (Y/n) took an immediate interest in.

"Sorry the place is a wreck," JJ apologized. He didn't know what else to really say because a part of him felt embarrassed. The place looked like the inside of a dumpster- smell and all. He didn't have the time to clean up beforehand because he didn't think they'd have to be staying at his place for the night.

He threw what he could away at the last minute into a large trash bag, wiping his arm smoothly across the coffee table- bottles and cans tipping over and tumbling into the bag. Eventually, he discarded the bag in the kitchen before returning back to the living area.

(Y/n) was placed on the couch, knees tucked to her chest. She was still quite shaken up from the previous encounter she had at her work with the creepy, old man. If JJ hadn't shown up a second later than he did, she wasn't sure if she'd safely be in his care or if she would have been dragged off the property in the grasp of the other man.

"(Y/n)?" JJ's voice was low, jaw clenched in order to bite back a more harsh, but natural sound. It wasn't his fault that his voice was much more deeper and intimidating. He didn't want to make the girl more timid than she probably already felt. His hand was placed gently on her shoulder.

"Hm?"

"Are you... okay?"

He wasn't too sure if this was a bad time to ask, for it was only moments ago she was put in a situation that no woman should ever be put in. He wanted her to open up, and maybe he could get her to. Or maybe he'd get the cold shoulder just like he would do himself whenever someone tried to get him to open up. And in hindsight, he didn't know (Y/n) and she didn't know him. Not properly, that is.

And even though he was the very person who defended her, he wasn't going to take that as an invitation to push past her boundaries.

(Y/n) shook her head no, turning to look at him, and rested her cheek against his hand that still rested promptly on her shoulder.

He shook his head before all together letting it drop and hang. feeling hopeless.

He failed her. He failed John B. That promise he made to protect the girl when John B could not. Over the years he made an internal promise to himself that he'd watch over the girl as long as she was on the Island and he wouldn't let a single soul handle her the way she was handled tonight, and he failed.

"I'm so sorry, Pougie. I... I should have been there sooner. If I had been there sooner then none of this would of happened and you'd be okay," He took careful steps around the couch toward her small figure. Guilt was evident but oblivious to how to express it.

"JJ-"

"I could of prevented it altogether," He gulped, taking his seat next to her. His head shook side to side endlessly.

"JJ-"

"You would of been okay,"

"JayJ-"

"I shouldn't have been so careless-"

He felt soft, gentle hands cup his face, "JJ! For once in your life; don't blame yourself."

JJ's head shot up, shoulders relaxing once his gaze landed on the soft smile of the girl sat in front of him. Sometimes he wondered how she could be so happy after traumatic situations.

"You saved me, and for that, I'm very grateful,"

JJ found his disheartened expression slipping into a small smile. She was so soft and gentle with not only her words; but her touch as well. She knew all the right ways to ease his racing mind.

They had yet to find out more about one another, yet here he had the girl sitting in his horribly trashed living room; feeling at ease from her touch and words- trying desperately to study her face, her emotions, her expressions. Trying to figure out why his heart was racing, and why he felt like if he didn't slow down he'd only crash and burn. Which, at the time, he felt completely okay with doing.

He was protective over the girl, but rightfully so. She'd done so much in his life he hasn't had the chance to thank her for. He wanted to give back, he just needed to figure out the right ways to do so.

But he shook his head. He stood up, giving her a small smile.

The girl had seen him at the lowest points in his life. The days when his father had beaten him so badly he was practically in shambles on the ground- she was petrified but she always would put him before herself because that was just the type of person she was. She was delicate- it was enough to break her if you truly wanted to, but she was kind.  JJ has never experienced the type of care Sophie has given by anyone else and if he was honest- he didn't want to.

"Where are you going?" he could hear (Y/n)'s soft voice as he stood from the couch, reaching for the garbage bag he left slouched against the wooden doors of the lower cabinets on the floor an hour or two prior.

"I'm gonna take this out and then head to bed," he looked over his shoulder, bright blue eyes glinting in her direction.

"Already?" she frowned, "We just got here a little bit ago,"

"I just wanted you to get some good sleep before I take you back tomorrow," JJ replied calmly, though he unknowingly began to make his way back toward her again.

"But I don't feel like sleeping right now," she reached for him, indicating she wanted him to sit again. He undoubtfully took the invitation.

"No?" Puzzlement growing, eyes fixated on the small girl sitting before him.

"No." she confirmed.

"Well... I don't have to go right now," She immediately perked up.

"Great!" She squeaked, arms flung around his neck, "Cause I have an entire show to watch, and no one to watch it with. But now I do!"

"Oh, I see," JJ gave a slight nod, unable to control the small, slightly uneasy chuckle that fell from his lips, "We're gonna watch an entire TV show tonight?"

"Of course. What else would we do on a Friday night?"

"Actually It's Saturday because it's midnight,"

"Whatever," she crinkled her nose, looking at him as if it was so obvious, "I get to show you the wonderful world of TV,"

TV. That was something JJ didn't exactly have familiarity with, for anymore he chose surfing or partying rather throwing himself up on the sofa and flicking through channels to find something appealing.

"Please?" She was back to being her shy self again, pouting and practically begging him to stay inside for the night, "Netflix would work too, that way we can start something new that maybe you'd like,"

He frowned nonetheless, "I don't have Netflix Princess,"

"That's okay, I'll sign in to my account," She grinned, turning the current network off and switching it to the Netflix program.

"Okay," he nodded, and she just smiled softly.

JJ watched as she selected a program with the title 'American Horror Story' and switched on the Pilot episode. Leaning over and leaving the remote on the coffee table in front of them.

She laid back, her prior position with her arms around his neck was now with her back pressed against the soft cushion

She then looked over at him, expression changing at the hesitant way he was perched up on the couch.

"JJ, come here," she reached her arms out, faking a grab at him with her fingers.

He shook his head, "No, I can't,"

"Yes you can," she nodded, once more making a grabbing motion with her fingers.

"No, I really can't,"

"I know I'm probably not as comfortable as most girls you slee-"

"No, that's not it," his answer was quick, "I just shouldn't lie down."

"Why?"

"Because Pougie," he frowned, trying desperately to dodge her tiny grabs, "I'll fall asleep on you." JJ warned.

"So fall asleep," (Y/n) shrugged, grinning with triumph once he finally sighed and gave in. She held her arms out, moving ever so slightly to give out some more room to him. He removed his snapback, leaning back- to which his head hit her forearm gently.

His tired eyes soon began to flutter shut, ready to fully drown out every possible noise; Including the voices of characters in front of them.

JJ couldn't comprehend the bizarre situation at hand; he was laying down with (Y/n), at his house, and she was voluntarily letting him rest against her. He was breathing in her light scent, listening to a show he assumed was one of her favorites, spending the night with the one person who agitated him the most- and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Something changed. Not enormously, For it was roughly hard to get through to JJ because of the skeptical side of him that refused to let anyone care for him. But the change was significant compared to what most accomplished. He no longer found the way he had to swoop into her rescue irritating. He didn't mind how she questioned everything he's done because in reality; she was curious and nothing was wrong with that.

This situation with (Y/n) was nothing more than a girl caring for a friend who, no doubt, needed the affection but was too stubborn to admit it.

JJ could only envision the small, gentle smile covering her features, imprinting her skin and burning a mark in his mind. He imagined her face as she pressed the tip of her nose against the back of his neck, small arms wrapped around his torso carefully.

He felt himself tense up. He's never felt such a delicate touch before- at least not ones that hadn't led to more than just a chill night on the couch. No, those situations almost always turned into more- to which JJ himself usually initiated.

But this was different because he didn't want more. He wanted to stay right where he was; In (Y/n)'s arms, wrapped up on the couch, drifting off into a much-needed peaceful sleep. And that's exactly what he was doing.

"Goodnight JayJ."

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

big hc request: m6 with a hothead mc that gets angry really easy but also doesn't back down from fights

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a hothead MC

~ @elysian-chaos hope you like these little sis! - brainrot ~

Julian

He is conflicted

He thinks that someone who knows what they want and pursues it with aggressive passion is attractive as hell

However, he also loves you and has committed himself to you and that means that he feels responsible for keeping you safe - especially when that involves you putting yourself in danger

And yeah, you purposefully ticking off a bar patron three times your size and then goading them into a fight unfortunately counts

Is he willing to take the hits for you? Yes. Does that mean he wants to? Not really, no. Which means he should probably try to stop you

Except that you're so hot when you're angry and he doesn't want to lose this opportunity to watch you really let loose!

His ideal solution is to get you to walk away from the conflict and find another way to blow off steam. (especially if that involves you and him and some loving aggression)

There is one situation in which he will bluescreen completely, and that is if you are angry on his behalf and seeking to defend his honor. He won't know what to do in that scenario

Asra

They get angry, sure, but they're not quick to lose their temper. Even when they do, they're more likely to resort to scheming and trickery than to violence. Your habits are entirely foreign to them

That said, his "go with the flow" approach to life means that he's maybe a little too chillaxed about this

No, this is interesting. Give them a quick sec to teach you some decent self-defense moves and make sure your moral compass is in working order. No they're not grabbing popcorn, not at all

He loves watching you in your element. And hey, if that element is in a fight, then he'll just make sure it's a good one

They will step in if it isn't looking like a good idea - maybe you'd actually be in the wrong for reacting, or the person you're mad at wouldn't play fair

He'll try to deescalate if he can, but if push comes to shove he'll hop in and be whatever backup or support you need to win

Pshhh no they're not enabling you too much, not at all ...

It doesn't help that Faust is more likely to supply you with insults for your opponent than she is to remind you to take a breath before acting

Nadia

Ah - this is tricky for her

She doesn't want to tell you what to do. You are your own person and she has no interest in controlling you or making your decisions for you

She also loves you for who you are, and who you are is a passionate magician with an extra helping of anger and stubbornness

Those are good attributes to have! Just not when you seem so quick to escalate things, and especially not when she's aiming for diplomacy in a delicate situation

She'll focus on helping you become who you want to be more than anything else. She's happy to talk with you about your struggles and explore different ways to help you manage your temper

If you look like you're about to lose it, she'll nudge you to walk away and take all the time you need to cool off before you come back

Of course, there are always exceptions to every case

Perhaps you're out and about, and she doesn't want to break cover, and the guy in front of you was not behaving appropriately to that vendor, and actions might get through to him better than words ...

Well, it's be a shame to hold you back

Muriel

He's an anxious guy, so really, he guesses he should be used to the constant low-level heart attack he has going on around you

He doesn't like conflict. At all

He doesn't like being in it, he doesn't like being near it, he doesn't like watching it, he doesn't like hearing about it, he doesn't like thinking about it, he does not like conflict

And yet you seem to be hellbent on finding trouble wherever you go

At first it was one of his reasons to be slower to approach you. Now it's one of the inexplicable reasons he finds you attractive

As he becomes comfortable with you, he loses a lot of his hesitation to try to stop a situation from escalating. Often his obviously growing impatience is all it takes for everyone to back off

However, if you're not calming down, and your opponent is not calming down, Muriel is not above slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walking off

He doesn't mind too much if it's him you're angry at

Because, thanks to your temperament, he knows exactly why you're angry and can take steps to address it instead of guessing

It also speaks volumes to him that you'd rather stay and talk than give up and leave

Portia

Oh boy. Her too

She's never been afraid to use her fists when her words aren't working, and don't even get her started on how stubborn she is

At first it's fantastic. When you two go out together and meet some jerk who's just begging to be taken down a notch or two, it's only a matter of five minutes or ten before the dust settles

It gets easier and easier to enable each other until you stop thinking too much about whether a fight is the best way to respond until it ends up costing Vesuvia an important trade deal

Nadia's able to run damage control, but it does give you pause when you both know that there was a better way to handle that snobby nobleman than to knock his wine into his lap and shout insults at him

Now you help each other regulate your big emotions instead of bottling them up, and take turns being each other's calm voice and accountability

Unless Julian mentions an unusually nasty customer at the Rowdy Raven who's been making all the regulars miserable and giving Barth a hard time and, clearly, needs to be put in their place. Then it's go time

Lucio

This is one of his favorite things about you

He's learned the value of not starting a fight just for a fight's sake, but if you're the one starting it, well then

That means you're the one responsible for the oopsie

He's happy both to sit and watch you enjoy yourself and to get involved. Either way he's having a great time cheering you on

However, Lucio has plenty of combat experience under his belt and he knows the value of a well timed retreat

You, it seems, do not

And oh no, you just picked a fight with that massive grouchy person in the corner who was making the server uncomfortable and yes it was for a good cause but he already knows he's going to get his butt kicked

Because yeah he wouldn't have done that but there's also no way he's leaving you without someone to watch your back

In the end it becomes one of those areas where he actually gets to help you improve yourself a little bit

He gets what it's like to be so angry and aggressive but he's also an expert at focusing on the pleasures of life instead. Let him give you a few fighting pointers at least

[avastyetwats]

All That I Have

Continued from here. @fornassau

The tension between them was thick. Too thick for a knife to even cut through. There was a lot James wanted to say, but he was trying to bite his tongue. He didn't want his anger, or the fact that he had been scared, get the better of him because he was on the verge of just letting loose and he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to yell at Charles. He did and he didn't. Hell, he didn't even have to ask what the hell he was thinking because it was obvious. He had been defending James, that was his intention, that was the reason he nearly went to fucking jail. Fucking idiot. He almost said that out loud, but again, he managed to hold back. His leg was bouncing and it only added to James's anger because he wanted it to fucking stop but his nerves were shot. But maybe if they just sat there in silence for a little while, he'd be able to calm down a bit...

What the fuck was I supposed to do? Just let the guy get away with treating you like that? I don’t understand why you’re so pissed at me!!“

Well, there went any chances of him possibly calming the fuck down.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Charles!?" James snaps, voice booming. "Yeah, you should have fucking walked away when I told you to. When I was trying to drag your ass with me out of that goddamn bar!" He suddenly tosses the ice pack onto the table in anger before he stands up, putting some distance between them. Normally it would've been James that snapped, that wouldn't have been able to home himself back from punching the fuck out of the guy. Hell, he almost did when Charles got involved and the fucker started saying mean shit about him. James was the one with the temper, but being with Charles, and being around his girls, his nieces, James had become... calmer. Learned to control his temper. It was something he'd been trying to work on for a long time anyway, but because of his relationship with Charles, and with his nieces, he had more of a reason to really do better.

Of course when the fight happened, he did join in because he wasn't going to let Charles get hurt like that. He shoved one of the fucker's friends away and fought with him for a few seconds before he dragged Charles off of the guy just before the police showed up. He's never seen him so angry, so full of rage. A feeling James knows all too well.

Charles almost killed the guy. And it wasn't that James was scared of that rage. He wasn't at all. He just didn't want Charles to have that blood on his hands, that loss of life on his hands, and he sure as hell didn't want him to be thrown in jail. Goddamn, that scared him. He couldn't lose him. His girls couldn't lose him. Did he not fucking get that!?

"You could've gone back to jail tonight, Charles! Did that not fucking matter?" He asks him, now looking at him. "Because it fucking matters to me!" He yells, voice breaking when saying those words. There's a rage in his eyes, but more than anything, there's fear. There's pain. "It matters to me because I cannot fucking lose you! And I almost did, Charles. I -- god." He turns away when he feels the tears fall despite trying his damn hardest not to let them. "I can't fucking lose you like I lost Thomas. I can't -- I can't go through that again.. not you, Charles. Not fucking you!" He turns and sends his fist into the wall, breaking it clean through. He then pulls it back with a hiss, blood running down his knuckles, cradling it to his chest with a pained sob. "FUCK."

Not Charles. Please God, don't take him from me, too.

[misteria247]

So as y'all know I'm a huge fan of Raph from tmnt and I'm willing to die defending this hot headed powerhouse. But there's a specific reason why I'm so ready to do this very thing.

Cuz like Raph, there was a point in my life were I had a very short temper.

If you were to ever meet me you'd probably never guess that when I was younger I had a rather nasty temper. When I was little, I was one of those problem kids that teachers hated and that kids would bully just to get a reaction out of me. I'm talking like I'd lose my temper and all hell would break loose kind of problem child (though it'd later be revealed in my life that I was actually having meltdowns due to being on the Autism Spectrum but stuff like that wasn't talked about back in the day). Like I was so bad that I was in anger management somewhat. It was frustrating growing up because I was known as this kid who was hot headed, and a lot of times the reason why I was like that was because I was misunderstood quite a bit. To say the least it was a pretty lonely feeling, feeling like no one understood you and only reduced you to your temper when there's so much more than that to you. Basically I was in this constant state of frustration of not being understood by the people around me. And when you're a kid it's not a fun time.

But then 2003 came around and with it the 2003 series of tmnt came with it. It was this series that introduced me to Raphael Hamato.

From the moment I saw Raph I instantly noticed that much like me, he was short tempered. He got snappy and confrontational at times and was often times considered the problem child amongst his brothers due to his emotions and his sometimes violent reactions to certain things. And that just like me, Raph was always feeling frustrated because a lot of the time, the reason he'd lose his temper was because the people around him misunderstood him or didn't listen to him. He'd say things he didn't mean and get into fights that he'd later regret, he had a hard time explaining his feelings and keeping his cool whenever he got frustrated with something or someone. It was a constant struggle for him and yet he kept trying to do his best.

When I saw Raph, it was like seeing a reflection of myself in this red clad turtle. For the first time in my life there was a character who struggled with something that was somewhat out of his control. And being a six year old girl who experienced the very things Raph experienced was out of this world. Suddenly it felt like I wasn't as alone in this kind of struggle as I was before because Raph experienced it too. And just like me, Raph wanted to do better and he did do better. While Leo at the time was my favorite turtle, Raph was the turtle that I felt a personal connection too and who somewhat inspired me to do better. And as I grew older I grew out of my hot headed ways and learned to control my temper. Just as Raph did, I matured and got ahold of myself.

Which is why I defend this red clad turtle so fiercely, because I personally understand the struggle of having a bad temper and I know how difficult it can be to keep your head when it seems like no one understands you or what you're trying to say. It's why I say that Raphael Hamato is so much more than his temper.

Raphael taught me that it's okay to have a temper and that I could do better and learn and grow from it. That there was a chance that a fierce temper like mine could eventually be overcome and that I could be a better person in the long run.

So shout out to my personal hero since 2003, he's always gonna be my hero no matter what I will defend him to the end.

[thelavendercatalogue]

LJS Albert Idea

Yesterday, I found out something interesting that kinda supports a theory/idea I had for LJS and Id never thought id say it, but Thank Albert for confirming it just a tad.

As I've mentioned back before that one of the main things about LJS is how Lupin cant hide stuff in this AU. How he can’t bounce back from this like he use to because tbh this is his breaking point. How Lupin had not been right for years. The incident with Goemon, Albert and Tomoe combined with other stuff had beaten him in more ways far worse than anyone outside of Jigen could have imagined, no matter how well Lupin kept a lid on it.

And that this AU is basically the result of everything reaching a point of no return.. Well apparently in PT5, I found out that Albert does mention something similar that apparently supports the idea.

And Thanks to Albert I came up with a idea. Lupin running into Albert after the gang go to France for the trip Jigen planned as a way to cheer Lupin up. As much as I believe there is just a little reconciliation between the two at the end of PT5 going into 6, there is still a lot of animosity between the two

Lupin never liked Albert, never did.

He was one of the last people Lupin wanted to run into when they went to France because France was suppose to be the time where he could just relax and not have to think about what he possibly could be losing.

But of course, fate be a cruel mistress. He should have known relaxation would not come so easily. Jigen had planned on taking a little trip into town and while a feeling in his gut told him not to, Lupin ultimately caved on Jigens insistence and decided he would go.

The trip goes smoothly enough, Lupin actually enjoys himself, but there’s still that pit in his stomach.

The voice that suddenly comes up from behind him while Jigens off doing something else is what seals his fate.

Albert was always antagonistic; when he noticed Lupin, Lupin could hear the smarmy tone in his voice already and Lupin did his best to make himself stand up straighter, refusing to be so “limp” in front of him, if he did, he’d know what Albert would say

but Albert noticed the cane, something Lupin couldn’t hide

As it turns out, Albert already knew from the grapevine what happened to Lupin, after all when one of the biggest names in the underground go down, talk spreads fast, rumors spread faster.

And it’s like he’s trying to goad Lupin into a fight, and Lupin holds his ground until the guy makes a comment about his “grandfathers legacy” seems to be coming to an end, Lupin completely ignores what the guy says about his Father, but the moment he mentions his grandfather that’s it, Lupin basically looses his temper, and it basically becomes a shouting match between the two that garners a bit of a crowd.

Jigen of course hears what’s going on, sees what happen and then him and the guy Albert's with are suddenly trying to get the two to simmer down and walk away

Jigen gets Lupin to turn around, and they do start to leave, but then Albert suddenly makes a comment on how long it’ll be until Lupin is forced to retire, or some shit like that, like making harsh jabs at the fact that Lupin is still young but seems to have to retire so early and that’s when Lupin looses it, cause retiring is the last thing on his mind and he wants to keep going and until he dies doing this shit.

Jigen notices the change in Lupin's face, he knows what’s about to happen, he makes a grab for him, tries to get him to stop, but Lupin basically rush shuffles towards this guy and he goes to say something like

you don’t get to tell me what I can do and when it’s time for me to retire

But it cuts off abruptly

“you don’t get to tell what I can d-“

But then he suddenly gets very quiet, he’s got his finger rudely pointed at Albert's face and the guys just looking at Lupin, hell EVERYONE is looking at Lupin at this point because it’s like he’s suddenly in immense pain, he’s suddenly coated in thin layer of sweat and there’s a jabbing jarring pain running up his back down his leg and hip.

Now the thing about Lupin is I don’t think he shows weakness that easily around people, he lives in a world where if he does it’s usually a death sentence, and he’s taken shit before and was able to stand his ground.

But all of a sudden now in front of all these people no less it literally looks like he’s about to fall to his knee’s, his legs are shaking, he’s coated in sweat and he does stumble but catches himself before he does, and suddenly Jigen is by his side attempting to hold him up right.

and that’s when he notices everyone is looking at him

and Lupin’s just looking at them and he’s starring and he’s slightly panting past the pain and he’s sweating and he’s just looking at them until he slowly turns his head away from them and looks down at the ground in defeat.

And then as if to hit him even more when he’s down, Albert suddenly gets a smirk on his face as he starts to walk away, pats Lupin’s shoulder, smile’s and makes a comment that he shouldn’t worry and that retirement is easier when your younger

But Lupin still has his dignity, he slaps the guys hand away, and pulls himself up, brushing Jigen off, he doesn’t look at anyone, doesn’t even acknowledge when Jigen calls his name, and despite the pain, he simply just leaves to go back to the car, trying to keep his posture as straight as he can and he waltzes away leaving everyone behind

He doesn’t make it to the car

Instead Jigen finds him at a rest stop bathroom puking his brains out.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 631, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

STORY WARNINGS: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1382

Peter and I sat in the conference room with Katie sitting in between us as the babies puttered around the room, babbling softly as they explored this uncharted territory. Principal Mayers sat at the head of the table with her hands folded tightly in front of her and her left eyebrow twitching painfully. Daryll Johnson and his parents were sitting directly across from the three of us, the little monster drooling and flailing about in his seat, clearly not wanting to be there.

“Mr. Ratajczyk, I understand that you are taking the Johnsons to court to have them cover the cost for Katie’s surgery,” the principal began in a terse tone of voice being cut off by my husband’s snarl.

“This meddling twerp-” he sent the handicapped boy a withering glare. “Should have people following him at this school, keeping him from doing shit like this! Why doesn’t he have an aid?”

“It is recommended that he has an aid with him at all times,” Principal Mayers acknowledged his irritability calmly. “There’s only so much that the school can do without the parent’s explicated permission.”

Peter turned to face the parents with murder on his face. He opened his mouth to say something scathing to them, only to calm down when I settled my hand onto his knee.

“My love, you need to calm the everloving hell down,” I hissed at him. “It will do no one any good if you lose your temper now.”

“We can’t afford a lawsuit,” the mother interjected just then, her sloppy bob and wrinkled shirt telling me that she was barely making ends meet as it already was.

“I think you mean, you can’t afford a lawsuit,” bitched Daryll’s father grumpily, unbuttoning his nice jacket. “You have been alienating my son from me and using his child support that I send you every month on-”

Principal Mayers coughed, ending the seething man midrant.

“This is not the place to fight over custody,” she warned in a firm voice. “This is simply a meeting to determine what Daryll will face for breaking Katie’s leg on school grounds during teaching hours. Katie, how is your leg doing, while I’m thinking about it?”

Katie then threw her leg up onto the table to proudly show off the ugly scar that marked her skin. Peter and I had both found a laser treatment center that accepted the family insurance plan and was in easy driving distance to break down the scar tissue and make her healed injury less noticeable.

“It still hurts whenever it’s cold out or I’m on my feet for a prolonged period of time,” she frowned. “My foot will probably never be the same, but that’s okay! The seasons change, and so do I!”

“But mesies and mesies babies givies her all the lovies she wantsies!” Tommy announced just then, toddling over and demanding to be lifted onto his mommy’s lap. “Uppie uppie uppie!”

I kissed his face, being rewarded with a gleeful screech from the delightfully tubby little man before he settled down, grabbing a fistful of my loose curls and cramming them into his mouth and beginning to chew quietly. I saw Peter glancing at the other babies, who were currently bopping around the room, babbling softly as they all played out little baby scenarios in their heads.

I turned back to the situation at hand, where Daryll’s mother was venomously denying any and all faulthoods of her disabled son.

“Daryll couldn’t hurt a fly- he’s a harmless little boy!” blubbered the woman, who was very clearly encouraging her son’s misdeeds, and was now attempting to cover for herself. Principal Mayer’s only response was to turn on the television in the corner and show a compilation of the little turd bullying Katie. The woman’s pathetic sputters died down into uncomfortable silence as Katie threw her bad foot into her father’s lap with a soft whine.

“You doing good there?” Peter rumbled as he began to gentle massage her scarred leg. He got an affirmative meep of response as the principal shot the ashamed mother a look of utter disgust.

“The school board had since reviewed the case file, and after coming to an unanimous vote, decided that it would be in Daryll’s best interest if he pursued other schools in his educational journey,” she announced in a grim tone of voice.

“Can I please have a copy of everything? I’m currently fighting my ex for full custody,” his father announced. “Through my workplace, I have access to more accommodations- a school with an adequate IEP program, caregivers who can tend to him and his every which needs, therapies that could prove helpful-”

“Then why hasn’t Daryll been provided with those resources?” Katie demanded to know just then as the dismissal bell rang, followed by the pitter patter of students leaving class.

“Mo stór!” I hissed at her forwardness- I wasn’t sure if her blunt attitude was a result of her Down’s Syndrome or just a random personality trait.

“Māmā!” she retorted back to me in playful Chinese with an equal frown.

“Knock knock!” Elizabeth meeped from the doorway, entering in at her daddy’s irritated finger flick. “Hihi mommy, hihi daddy, hihi Tommy, hihi Baby Eve, hihi Baby Mattie, hihi Baby Teddy, hihi Baby Jojo!”

“BIG SIS SISS!” screamed Baby Jojo, leading the stampede over to their big sister, who dropped her backpack with her sister’s school bag before offering to corral the babies and take them to the garden to hunt for ladybugs.

“That would be welcomed, thank you Bitty,” Peter smiled, his shoulders sagging a little less once the tiny Ratajczyk members were out of the stressful room, leaving myself, Tommy, Peter, Katie, Daryll, his parents and Principal Mayers.

~xoXox~

Peter and I both shook Principal Mayer’s hand forty minutes later as Daryll’s parents bickered, his father taking him with him for his allotted two weeks and uttering a threat that his mother would hear from his lawyers in regards to modifying their custody agreement.

“Wowee, I hope you and daddy never split up!” Katie frowned as she led us to the gardens in search of Elizabeth and the babies. Peter carried the girls’ backpacks on one shoulder and toted a happily napping Tommy on his hip as Katie led us outside.

The sight of Baby Jojo giggling as a swam of ladybugs crawled on her arms and face made my face break out into a smile. Baby Eve was hiding behind big sister Elizabeth as Baby Teddy was dancing aimlessly, with big brother Baby Mattie pulling weeds peacefully.

“Bitty, we’re ready to go now!” Peter rumbled, resulting in a flood of babies pouring towards him and obediently toddling after him as he led the family around to where he had parked the Doom Buggy 3.0. for the ride back home again.

Mo stór, my dear, Irish Gaelic

Māmā, mommy, Chinese 

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c0la

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

[lumiereandcogsworth]

I love the idea that Adam still has angry beast tendencies. Like, he’s much better at keeping his temper and maintaining social graces, but only up until a point. If anyone insults his Belle or is rude to his staff, he can go full beast mode (metaphorically speaking) obscenely quickly. It’s a quieter fury which would make it more sinister I think. On a good night he’s all charm and smiles, but after the day is done he’ll vent to Belle who will sooth him until he’s all smiles and cuddle again. This may seem like a spontaneous head canon dump but it’s response to your “he’s a bit cunty” tag 😆

NO DUDE YES EXACTLY!!!!!!!! i think about that all the time. like he’s so aggressively loyal to belle and his found family staff and it absolutely comes out in such a sinister way. like when he finds out that someone at a ball was rude to his beloved?? all hell breaks loose.

i also have a ~plot~ that i’ve never fully written, it’s more just a storyline i like to play out in my head sometimes, where someone was SO disrespectful about belle talking TO ADAM that adam just loses it and clocks the guy right in the nose. and it’s such a spectacle and adam is honestly stunned at his own actions. like he’s LIVID but he’s also immediately terrified because belle witnessed it and he never wanted her to see him lose his temper again. so he quickly leaves the room and belle runs after him.

he’s shaking and angry at the situation and himself and belle comes in asking if he’s okay but he just keeps backing away from her because he doesn’t trust himself and he feels so ashamed for letting her see that. eventually belle manages to get him to sit down so she can tend to his bloody knuckles (YEAH) and he apologizes and she says he has nothing to apologize for. she knows he wouldn’t just do that on a whim. she knows it was warranted. and it was but adam just feels so sjdkdjfk.

anyway you’re so right dude. amen brother. i love it. because YEAH LIKE??? sure he’s changed and grown but you don’t just snap your fingers and remove a temper like that lmao. he learns to manage it better (over time, with belle’s help) but yeah of course it’s still going to come out in quiet, vicious ways. he’s always going to be just a bit cunty!!! i love that bitch.

like especially in social settings i think he’s suuuuch a bitch lmao. like you said he keeps social graces generally speaking but in certain circles, at certain events, he really goes off sometimes. gosh i love him. and of course he’s absolutely the worst gossip of them all. there’s a fic i have in my drafts of him corrupting belle and getting her into gossip. she’s like adam no that’s not nice!! and he’s like “but you must admit they WERE acting rather odd this evening. surely something Must be going on ;)” and belle’s like “….MAYBE BUT THIS ISNT NICE!!” it’s very cute lmao.

[kitchenisking]

DAY 5

I'd Do Anything (for you) by LadySlytherin - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 46936, sterek)

Nearly two years after being possessed by the Nogitsune, Stiles is still trying to get a handle on things. Away at college, he feels more stable; more settled. But at home in Beacon Hills for summer break after his Freshman year at UC Berkeley, he is once again plagued by nightmares.

The thing is, Void left behind a thousand years worth of information in Stiles' head. Information that Stiles is slowly realizing can help undo some of the damage that was done to Beacon Hills.

Between bodies once again turning up in Beacon Hills and an increasingly close relationship with Derek Hale, Stiles has a lot on his plate. Factor in a talking tree, a sacred duty to the land, and some dead/not-dead drama, and Stiles is about to have one Hale of a summer.

where you go, i go by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 1545, sterek)

All hell breaks loose when someone touches Derek inappropriately.

…or the one where Stiles and Derek are violent, possessive, and in love.

Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You by SylvieW - (Rating: Mature, Words: 8335, sterek)

As a prince, Derek has no business frequenting a tavern in the middle of the capital city, but once he meets Stiles, he has to go back. Stiles opens up his world with possibilities, but they both know their time together is limited.

The healing touch by devilscut - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 96607, sterek)

Stiles loses his temper with the rest of the pack when they all make excuses not to volunteer to help their Alpha. Deaton has instructed that for the next 24 hours Derek can't use his hands after he seriously injures them in a magical entrapment. Seeing the emotional hurt that Derek's selfish pack has inflicted on him when they argue and try to get out of it, Stiles volunteers to stay and then proceeds to give the rest of them a verbal ass-kicking. He then takes care of his friend, the Alpha, Derek Hale, while trying to work out what his feelings are towards the werewolf.

You Gotta Promise Not to Stop When I Say When by keldjinfae - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 25711, sterek)

Stiles breaks himself trying to keep up with the pack. Derek is there to manhandle him back together again.

Under The Eye Of God by SexySourAlpha - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5620, sterek)

Stiles Stilinski is the pastors son.

Derek really wants to fuck him.

Seduction Tactics Are Cheating by Crimson1 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7001, sterek)

Stiles doesn't understand why Derek hasn't offered him the bite the way he did with Erica and the others. When Derek asks if Stiles really wants to be offered the bite the way he offered it to Erica, and Stiles says yes, Derek has a little fun at Stiles' expense, but might get more than he bargained for.

Daddy Knows Best by dearjayycee - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2233, sterek)

Derek accidentally calls him brat and that is the end of their "vanilla" sex life.

Alpha, My Alpha by annalikestotalk - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2351, sterek)

“Oh my god, it turns you on, doesn't it?” Derek has turned a bright beet red and Stiles can't help but think that the colour suits him. “It totally turns you on when I call you Alpha!”

Wait For Me by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Mature, Words: 64677, sterek)

“Stiles, we know about your Spark,” Scott looked at Stiles with desperate eyes, trying to convey something. “He is the Werewolf who's been chasing you. You must run. We’ll help you…”

Stiles stared at his friend, genuinely concerned for his sanity, because the nonsense he was sputtering was really fucking confusing.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 28 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Carlos Martinez

By the third day, I'm beginning to think John is taking the 'space' thing too seriously.

He hasn't texted or called 'I remind myself I basically told him not to' and communicates via Latoya and Nguyen, like a fourth grader with a crush, asking friends to suss out the crush's feelings in his place.

Kyle, meanwhile, is becoming a real pain in the ass.

He seems to have taken up permanent residence in the garage and continually bangs things and knocks things off the walls.

He's turning into a genuine poltergeist, making me wonder if it would be better for both of us if I exorcised him and sent him on his way.

Aunt Toni always said it was best to leave spirits alone unless they became truly malevolent.

Kyle might be a hazard 'he did make me break my arm' but I've never gotten the impression he actually wants to hurt me.

Rather, it seems like he's trying to tell me something but in true ghost fashion he can't just come out and say it and instead has to resort to making a mess of my tools.

Meanwhile, I'm not willing to risk another seance.

The demonic presence I glimpsed on the other side haunts my dreams and I'm afraid if I dare to open myself up again, it will be there, waiting in the dark.

Still, I'm getting a little tired of waking up to a mess or having loud bangs and clangs shatter my already frayed nerves.

Finally, after he knocks my tray of neatly organized wingnuts off the work table, I lose my temper and yell at him and he quiets down.

At least, until I'm changing the oil on a classic Chevy Impala and he decides to tip over the oil tray.

As the black oil spreads across the floor of the garage, I scramble from beneath the vehicle, knock my forehead on the bumper and let loose with a torrent of profanity.

When I run out of air, I kick the overturned pan myself, for good measure and stomp over to the wall cabinets to look for the box of cat litter I keep on hand for just this eventuality.

Retrieving it, I return to the spill and swear again.

The viscous black liquid is following a very strange path across the concrete, like a tiny meandering river and is seeping into the crack in the floor.

"Motherfucking son of a bitch," I hiss as I splash cat litter over what little of the spill remains.

A host of random fears cross my mind.

What if it gets in the water table?

Could they trace it back to me?

Spring Lakes is a pretty environmentally conscious town and there are all kinds of regulations about things like this.

Could I lose my business license if someone finds out?

"Fucking hell, Kyle. I swear to God if you weren't already dead I'd kill you myself."

Ian was right about this damn crack, I should have had it patched months ago but it was barely noticeable then and I hadn't wanted to bother Lucille about it.

It's widened and spread since, in fact it seems to have widened since yesterday and now it's spreading.

Frowning, I trace a hairline fracture that branches off from the main crack before curving back to rejoin it.

Experimentally, I push on it and sure enough it moves.

The crack goes all the way through the slab.

'Fuck.'

Sighing, I get up and grab a crowbar from a rack on the wall.

At least I can get the oil out of there before it sinks into the soil.

I work the tip of the bar into the crack and gradually lift the block.

To my surprise, the slab is only six-inches thick, perfectly fine for most domestic garages but for a working one like this, I'd expect at least nine.

No wonder it cracked.

Sweating and swearing, I roll the twenty-pound, shoe-box sized block aside and check what lies beneath.

I'm hoping for hard-packed earth that will make scraping up the oil an easy job.

What I see instead has me falling back on my ass in surprise.

Suddenly, Kyle's haunting makes a lot more sense.

Scrambling to my feet, I stumble across the garage and grab my cell-phone, heedless of the oil smeared on my hands and call John.

He answers immediately, as if he'd been staring at his phone, waiting to see my name.

"Carlos. Everything okay?"

"Not really," I say, a little breathlessly.

"You need to get over here."

"Where you at?"

Calm and even, despite its urgency, his tone soothes my nerves.

"Home. The garage."

"Are you safe?"

"Yeah. I just... I found something."

"What?"

"Bones. Under the floor. I don't know for sure but... I'm willing to bet they belong to Kyle's parents."

********

My garage is a crime scene and once again I'm packing a bag, though this time not to stay with John.

The department will put me up in a hotel.

Meanwhile, crime scene tape stretches across the garage door and someone has brought in a jackhammer to break up the rest of the floor.

Forensics is standing by with evidence bags designed for human remains, one of which contains the skull I'd discovered.

I watch as John works, giving orders and observing his team.

When he finishes, he walks over to where I wait beside his vehicle.

"We need to talk to Lucille," he says.

"Find out when this floor was installed."

"You think she'll cooperate?"

He shrugs.

"I've got an emergency warrant on the way. Latoya's bringing it. Hopefully her husband kept good records and she'll hand them over willingly. We'll search her house, regardless. You wanna come?"

I consider for a moment, squinting against the glare of sunlight as I observe the busy scene in and around my garage. It's like something from a movie, sort of unreal.

"Sure," I say.

"I get the feeling Kyle wants me to see this through. If those bones belong to his parents, then either Lucille or her husband killed them. I owe it to him to help put them and him, to rest and hopefully get some justice for what happened to them."

He nods and raises his hand as if to rest it on my shoulder or back but lets it fall without touching me.

"You're a good man, Carlos. I think Kyle knows that."

I laugh.

"Nah. I'm just a guy who can see ghosts who happens to work in the garage where his parents were buried."

"That's sick though. If Lucille knew, especially if she had anything to do with it, sending him to work for you."

"She must have known," I say.

"It makes sense now why she wouldn't let me do any repairs without her permission. She must have been scared I'd find something."

"Yeah. Come on, let's pay her a visit before she gets wind that something's up. Maybe we can take her by surprise."

It's only a half-mile walk to Lucille's house but I get in the passenger side of John's car and let him drive.

At the top of the hill where she lives, he parks in front of her house and takes a moment to inspect our surroundings.

As usual, the neighborhood is quiet.

The rows of houses... some older, some new... are neat and tidy, with little patches of green lawn out front and not a speck of faded or cracked paint in sight.

Except for Lucille's old Victorian, that is.

"Weird that she wouldn't pay to have someone fix up her place," I remark as we get out and climb the steps to the front porch.

"No weirder than finding skeletons under the garage. Maybe she's got more skeletons to hide, literal or otherwise."

He rings the bell and waits.

No one answers.

He rings it again, then knocks on the door and calls Mrs. Peters' name.

We wait again and he swears as he checks his watch.

"Fuck. Where is Latoya?"

"What about, like 'probable cause' or whatever? Don't you cops use that to bust into people's homes all the time?"

"Not 'all the time' but yeah. Sometimes."

He leans and attempts to peer in through the window beside the door.

I do the same but can't see anything past the lacy curtains.

"Fuck it. Let's do it."

He tries the handle and finds it locked but one ram of his shoulder splinters the frame.

He pushes it open, one hand on his holstered weapon.

"Mrs. Peters? Lucille? This is Detective Turner, SLPD. We're coming in."

The interior of the house is quiet, cold and dark.

It feels like the heat hasn't been on in a few days.

"I don't think she's here," I whisper.

Room by room, calling out repeatedly to announce and identify himself as he goes, John makes his way through the lower floor of the house.

I trail after him, eyes and ears alert but detect nothing.

John climbs the stairs.

I follow, my heart beating a quick tempo in my chest and hang back a little as he checks Kyle's room.

"Nothing. What else is up here?"

"A spare bedroom and a bath," I say, pointing down the hall.

John checks the first room, flicking on the light.

It's full of boxes but otherwise empty.

Then he tries the bathroom.

"It's stuck," he says.

"Some kinda seal on the door. Hang on."

Using his shoulder again, he forces it open.

I hear something like tape ripping free from the inside of the frame and then the smell hits me.

Reeling back a pace, I gag.

John covers his mouth and nose with his sleeve and bravely pushes the door wide.

Even from a few steps back, I have a pretty good view and no desire for a closer look.

Lucille lies in the bathtub, bathing in a congealed soup of her own blood.

Symbols drawn in blood mark the walls and from the cuts marking her body, I know we just found the victim of the second Feast.

"She's deceased," John says, having confirmed this and re-shutting the bathroom door to help contain the smell.

"Looks like she died a few days ago."

"No shit, Sherlock," I whisper.

"It also looks like she did it to herself."

"What?"

"The tape sealing the door. It had to have been done from the inside."

"What about the window?"

"Too small."

"Fuck. What the fuck is going on, John?"

"Fucked if I know," he says, unclipping his radio to call in the second gruesome find of the day.

"But there goes our case."

[irisbleufic]

As I’m finishing your Toy Soldiers fic series for the first time, knowing only your Gotham fics otherwise…it’s so profoundly eerie to me how similar a core relationship dynamic you’ve given to Billy/Joey and Jerome/Five. Had you realized those echoes across those 2 pairings separated by almost 20 years in your bodies of work? It’s so unbelievably neat, but like I’m also kinda crying about it.

…Anon, I need a minute. FML.

No, it wasn’t conscious. But you’re right, and now I’m crying about it.

Joey and Five have such prickly pride and nasty, dangerous tempers. Joey reaches for a weapon; Five is a weapon. If they can’t find a weapon, they’ll just throw a punch. They each have a clearly defined dress/accessorizing aesthetic that means a hell of a lot to them. Joey’s hatred of his father hits so many of the same notes as Five’s hatred of Hugo Strange.

Billy and Jerome are both performers. Both pranksters. They’re not well understood or well liked by everyone, but they’ve each got their ride or die devotees. Billy’s parental trauma is not the same as Jerome’s, but both of these boys really hate their parents for good reasons. Their bravado covers a fuck-ton of loneliness and longing for acceptance—for love, even. Jerome’s bitterness over his family, who he genuinely did love once upon a time, bleeds everywhere given half a chance. Billy breaks down when he loses his whole world in a single person.

You have a brave, reckless misfit with an artistic aesthetic (who loves music) in each relationship; you also have an only slightly less reckless, but no less brave performer desperate to prove themself/be loved for themself in each relationship. You have an unequivocal us-against-the-world mentality; you have one person whose temper is so deadly that it regularly needs to be reined in by the other. If not restrained, hell breaks loose, and sometimes that hell is warranted.

(You have a death in each relationship, but for once an incongruous mirror. Jerome dies and is resurrected before he ever meets Five; Joey dies after he and Billy have settled into each other’s breathing space, and still there’s refusal to let go, a steadfast lifelong haunting. I have avoided ever killing Five or Jerome while they’re together, or even killing both of them together, because there is no end of unhinged fuckery that would occur in any of those three scenarios. Billy without Joey is unhinged enough for me to handle, and even then, Joey isn’t really gone…and is no less unhinged.)

Their worlds are temporally different, early 1990s vs. 2010s, but many of the same core interactions are there. They’re pairs of schemers who complement each other’s strengths and cover for each other’s weaknesses. Both couples laugh together so easily. I don’t have any other pairings capable of the same level of seriousness and silliness simultaneously. Intimacy often happens fast and without forethought. Oh, how they burn.

The trust, though—the trust. That’s what it is most of all, that and the complete and utter lack of personal space. The casual, reassuring physical contact that’s present without expectation of more. Even if they weren’t literally lovers, that would still be present, and it would be enough.

(They’re so young—so impossibly young for the tragedies in which they’re players. Come the end, they deserve whatever safe haven they can offer each other.)

[rebooted-handeemen-askblog]

So Jeremy how chaotic do things get with haveing to deal with the puppets?

"Preettttttyyy chaotic-"

"Rosco always gets into.. literally EVERYTHING-"

"Nick and Riley fight extremely often-"

"Not to mention, Nick's art projects end up everywhere-"

"Thankfully, Kelly and Daisy are the least chaotic!!-"

"Joey is an instigator to the madness, unfortunately-"

"Aaaand then Mortimer- He's mostly chill, but sometimes he loses his temper, aaaand all hell breaks loose-"

"Thankfully, they all help out to fix things when shit goes ary! And I really appreciate that."

-Jeremy

[rinsilverstar223]

Ficlet 4

Terror courses through me as I drive away from that construction site as fast as I can. I can barely think as my mind races through all that just happened. Was that THE Demon Bull King!? What the hell is going on!?

To my great horror, I happen to glance in the rear view mirror only to find that I am being followed closely by a big truck painted in gaudy reds and purples. My color association skills immediately put two and two together to realize that those guys from the cavern are chasing me down. Sweet cheese tea! Can I not just catch a break!?

Before today, I can honestly say the scariest situation I've ever been in is the one time on a delivery when a customer's dog got loose and chased me for three whole blocks. That was mild compared to this situation. These are literal Demons hunting me down for who knows why. What did I do to deserve such crappy luck!? Who even ordered noodles to be delivered down there!?

It's at this precise moment that my trusty tuk tuk decides to give out on me. I really should've been paying more attention to the gas levels. Thankfully, there's just enough juice to get her into a safe parking spot along the street. Pigsy would murder me if something happened to this little old vehicle.

Unfortunately, this means my pursuers can easily catch up to me. The big red and purple truck is closing in fast. The head of that redhead guy with the fiery temper pokes out of the driver side window. He shouts to me,

“You! Noodle Boy! You aren’t getting away from me!”

“Uh, can we reschedule this for another time? You know, just put this on raincheck?” I call back as I look around for escape options. Other people on the street are stopping to stare. Shoot.

“You think this is a game!? Your life belongs to the Demon Bull Family, you peasant! Surrender now and return what you stole!”

My gaze lands on the staff tucked away in my tuk tuk. It saved me earlier, maybe it will save me again. I pull it out, feeling how it hums softly with warmth in my hands. The Staff of the Monkie King.

The truck pulls to a stop in the middle of the street, mere feet from me. I ready myself for whatever the staff decides to do this time. I won't allow myself to be kidnapped or whatever by an evil Demon.

The redhead hops out of his truck. He's smirking and standing there like he owns the whole city. My poor overwhelmed brain decides at this time to acknowledge how good-looking he is. Why brain? Why must you betray me this way?

“Giving up, Noodle Boy? You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. I don’t know why my parents are so fascinated by you, but regardless, you'll be coming back with me now,” the Demon boy tells me with such cockiness.

“And what if I don't want to?” I retort, trying to hide my panic. I grip the staff harder. “I know better than to go off somewhere with a Demon I don't know.”

He growls, losing some of that composed arrogance. “You think you have a choice in the matter, peasant? If the Demon Bull King demands it, I, his son, will fulfill it. If you value your limbs intact and your face unburned, you better cooperate.”

This is getting worse by the minute. He’s not going to let me go easily. I look around again for an escape. To my dismay, I find that the crowd of onlookers have been replaced by what look like robot bull-men. Just great. I'm surrounded.

Finally, the staff moves in my hands just like before. It stretches down to hit the ground. Then, in an instant, I'm launched up into the air. As great as it is to escape, I'm still absolutely terrified of what I'm supposed to do now that I'm at least a couple hundred feet in the air. How do I get down!?

A flash of green catches my eye and relief washes over me. A familiar white-clad biker is soaring up high towards me. I grab the outstretched hand and swing up behind the rider as the bike shoots off the land safely on the ground several blocks away from that confrontation.

I slide to the ground with a groaning sigh of relief. The adrenaline is crashing out of me fast now that I'm away from all that. I look up at my savior as she removes her helmet to show off her green-highlighted hair.

“Mei! You're the best!” I praise with immense gratitude.

“I know! That was so much fun! Your little face off with that angry redhead was all over the local media, so I just had to come jump in!” my best friend exclaims excitedly. She bounces on her heels as she bounds off her bike. “Who was that guy? New friend of yours?”

“No! He was trying to kidnap me, Mei!”

Her expression immediately darkens. “Really? Where does he live?”

I laugh nervously as I get back up to my feet. My legs are still shaky, so I lean on the staff for support. “Don’t worry about it now. We got away.”

Looking around, I realize we're back in front of Pigsy’s Noodles. I realize that I left my poor tuk tuk behind. I'll have to go back for her later if I can remember where I parked the old girl. But right now there's someone I have to talk to.

I hurry inside the restaurant. Mr. Tang is sitting at the counter with a bowl of noodles as usual. If anyone can tell me about what’s going on, it’s Mr. Tang. He knows more about the Monkie Kind and the Journey to the West than anyone else I’ve ever known.

Before I can get to him, an angry shout stops me in my tracks, “there you are Xiaotian!”

I flinch and turn to face my boss and legal guardian, the esteemed owner and namesake of Pigsy’s Noodles himself. He’s scowling at me from behind the counter, absolutely furious. Oh no! I knew he’d be mad! I failed the deliveries!

“You wanna tell me why someone left a zero star rating on Pigsy’s Noodles?” he asks, showing the indicated review on the screen of his phone. His grip is so hard he could crack the entire device any moment.

“Look, Pigsy, there’s an explanation for this, I swear,” I respond, holding up my hands and the staff defensively.

“Yeah, he was trying not to get kidnapped by some angry red-haired guy,” Mei pipes in, always to my rescue.

The anger on Pigsy’s face dissolves a bit down into concern at her words. “What? Some redhead was trying to kidnap you? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine! Mei got me out just in time, but that’s not the whole story!” I quickly try to explain, shaking my head. “There was this weird delivery to one of the construction sites on the other side of the mountain, and the instructions said to go down into this big cavern underground. You know I always deliver as instructed, so I didn’t question it. I went down there, and there was this scary lady and her son, the redhead we were talking about. They didn’t even know I was there at all. And then they-”

“Kid, you’re rambling. Get to the point,” my boss cuts in gruffly.

I inhale deeply. “The Demon Bull King has been released, and I may have stolen the Monkie King’s staff from him and his wife, Princess Iron Fan, so now they sent their son to kidnap me.”

“The Demon Bull King?” Mr. Tang questions, finally joining the conversation. “Xiaotian, are you sure? How could they have removed the Monkie King’s staff?”

“They had this gauntlet thing that gave them the ability to lift it, I think.” I hold up the staff. “But look! See? I’m not lying!”

“Wow, Xiaotian. You found a stick!” Mei teases, trying to lighten the mood.

I do not appreciate the lack of seriousness. Mr. Tang told me all about how dangerous the Demon Bull King is in his stories. Only the Monkie King himself could stop him. What are we supposed to do?

“Okay, say you’re right about all this, where’s the Demon Bull King now? Is that redhead still after you?” Pigsy inquires, still concerned and doubtful.

“I don’t know about the Demon Bull King’s whereabouts right now, but I do know that they really want this staff. That scary redhead was really serious about capturing me and taking it back.” I shudder at the memory of his threats.

“If that really is Monkie King’s staff, how are you holding it?” Mr. Tang questions.

The overwhelming anxiety is creeping back. This is not going how I thought it would. “I don’t know how I’m holding it or what is going on, but we need to find the Monkie King and get the staff back to him. He’s the only one who can defeat the Demon Bull King, right?”

Pigsy sighs. “Fine. I know a guy who can help us track down the Monkie King. Come on.”

*

*

Dropping off another ficlet here! I figured out how to add a title as you can tell! This one is told from MK's perspective, obviously. I hope you enjoy!

Masterpost

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 2x22 All Hell Breaks Loose - Part 2 (Chapter One)

Sitting in the Impala next to Dean, on their way to Bobby’s, Sam shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Something is bothering him, and it’s not just the ache in his back. A streak of soreness runs down his lower spine and he feels stiff, as if he’s been lifting too-heavy things or slept on the floor. It’s odd. The wound must’ve been bad. He remembers the blade driving deep into his back, the sharp, severe pain and his legs giving out underneath him. He remembers holding on to consciousness in Dean’s arms and losing the fight. The blackness that took him had been complete. He remembers the thought that he was dying. 

Apparently, Bobby worked a miracle on him. As far as he could see when twisting in front of the mirror, the wound’s already healed to a scar. No stitches; no scabbing. Just a fading red line that’s still tender to the touch. It should hurt more. It should look worse. He should be in a hospital instead of riding shotgun in the Impala. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” Dean throws him a concerned look. 

“Dean,” Sam says, lips pursed. “What did Bobby do to make me heal so quick?”

“What do you mean?” Dean stares at the road. 

“I mean, I woke up, and I barely even have a scar. But you said I almost died, so I’m wondering-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean cuts him off. “Some kind of hoodoo mojo. I wasn’t paying attention.” He keeps his eyes straight ahead.

“You weren’t?” Sam frowns. Dean’s usually wary of any kind of witchcraft and will keep a close eye on anyone using it.

“No, Sam!” Dean’s loud and annoyed. “I was a little distracted by the fact that you were bleeding out in my arms!” 

And that’s another thing Sam has been  wondering about. “If I was bleeding out, why didn’t you just call 9-1-1? Why did Bobby-”

Again, Dean interrupts him, and now he is looking directly at him, eyes blazing. “We were in the middle of fucking nowhere, Sam! There was no time! Unless teleportation was invented and I missed the memo, an ambulance would’ve been too late! We had to Dr Quinn you, and thank fuck Bobby knows his shit!”

Sam is confused, and he’s bristling a bit. Why is Dean so mad at him? And although he knows never to underestimate Bobby - how did he manage to act so fast? Hoodoo, for the most part, required research and preparation.

“Did he have a spell ready?” Sam inquires, unable to let this go. “Where did he get the ingredients? And why haven’t I seen him use this before? We get injured all the time, and he’s never-”

It doesn’t seem Dean will let him finish a single question today, since the car swerves as Dean pulls the Impala over and stops with a hefty curse. “For fuck’s sake!” He slams the lever into ‘park’ and cuts off the engine, rounding on Sam. “What do you want, Sam?! Would you rather we would’ve let you die? You were lucky Bobby was around! Why can’t we just leave it at that? And don’t we have a yellow-eyed demon to hunt down, last I recall? And his friggin’ disciple? The guy who stabbed you? Or are you no longer interested?”

Dean’s aggression surprises Sam, but it doesn’t scare him. He’s used to his temper, has been all his life. His older brother may be acting like a pitbull right now, face hard and hackles raised, and any other person would just back off and stop prying. But Sam knows that anger is one of Dean’s prime mechanisms of deflection, and it makes him even more suspicious.

What is Dean hiding?

“Of course I am still interested,” he says, trying to sound reasonable. “I want that son of a bitch to pay for what he did as much as you do! And we’re going to chase them both down and send Yellow Eyes back to Hell where he belongs.” Sam pauses and takes a breath, feeling his thirst for revenge surge. But he also feels that they’re close, closer than in all those months. It’s like he’s homing in on a signal or racing towards an inevitable conclusion. He’s humming with anticipation. However, Dean’s hiding something, and he needs to know what.

“But dude - you’re acting weird,” he says honestly. “And you’re refusing to give me any details. It feels like you’re keeping something from me. Like when you hid what Dad told you about me before he died.” 

For a moment, Dean’s glare falters, like he’s been caught, red-handed. It’s just a fraction of a second, and maybe Sam only imagined it, but what if- … No. No, that can’t be it. Dean would never do that. Not after Dad. And Bobby would never-

“You didn’t make a deal or something?” he says out loud, suddenly a bit panicked. “Bobby didn’t summon a demon? To make a deal and save me?”

Dean stares at him, eyebrows scaling his forehead. “What? Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

Sam scans his brother’s reaction for truthfulness. Dean’s outraged, nearly scandalized - maybe a bit too much to be genuine. On the other hand, what their father did still haunts Dean, and they don’t talk about that particular day for a good reason. 

“I’m just wondering, man!” Sam keeps probing. It’s like a sore tooth he can’t leave alone. “Why are you being so shady? Why aren’t you telling me-”

“It was a potion, alright?” Dean yells at him, and Sam shuts his mouth, listening intently. “Bobby had this vial with a potion that he… he took it from a witch, he said. He wasn’t even sure if it’d work, or if it was gonna kill you, but we…” Dean runs a hand through his short hair, looking haunted as he stumbles over his words. “We had to risk it, Sam! You were dying, it was a Hail Mary. Bobby poured the stuff over your wound, and he mumbled something in… in Latin, I think - the spell he’d picked up. The bleeding stopped. You fell into this deep sleep, and the wound started healing.” Dean’s lower lip trembles a bit as he talks, and Sam notices how pale and tired he looks.

“How… how long was I out?” Sam asks. To him, it felt like minutes. He can’t remember any dreams or any instances of half-consciousness. The last thing he does remember is Dean propping him up and telling him that “It’s not even that bad” although, evidently, it was.

“Three days.” Dean’s voice cracks a little when he says that. To him, it must have felt like a lifetime.

And then it hits Sam why Dean is behaving like this, why he’s so angry, and all the questions he still wants to ask  (Why was I still in the same clothes? Why did Bobby leave? Why didn’t you track Yellow Eyes while I was healing?) fall by the wayside. Because he’s seen this before. When Dad died, Dean clammed up, his feelings oozing out of him in fits of wrath. 

Sam remembers getting stabbed. He also remembers turning away from Jake, to Dean, when he saw him and Bobby approaching. Remembers not paying attention to what was happening behind his back, because he was looking at his brother.

“You think this was your fault,” Sam blurts out. 

Dean frowns, the topic change catching him off guard. Then he blinks, looks at his lap and back up at Sam with a sad little chuckle. “Of course it was.” He swings his gaze back down, worrying the ring on his right hand with nervous fingers. “I should’ve found you quicker. I shouldn’t have called out your name. You were distracted. I saw that kid pick up the knife. I should’ve been faster. I should’ve-” Dean pauses, and Sam sees his eyes flicker as he scrolls down a long, silent list of failures in his memory.

“Dean…” Sam starts, shaking his head, frustration heating his cheeks. They’ve been through this before - Dean assuming all responsibility for things that are out of his control. Especially when it comes to keeping his younger brother safe. 

Thanks, Dad. You did a bang-ass job screwing up your eldest…

“None of this was your fault,” Sam says out loud. He wonders if he should touch Dean to emphasize his words, to form a real connection, but he knows better. “You didn’t get me hurt. Hell, you spent most of your life trying to keep me from getting hurt!” He wishes Dean would at least look at him, and, as if his brother had read his mind, timid green eyes slide his way. 

“This was Yellow Eyes,” Sam continues. “He caused this. He did all this to me. And Dad…” He searches for the right words, picking through a swamp of anger and grief. “He never should’ve put this on your shoulders. He never should’ve made you feel responsible for me. It wasn’t fair, and it was wrong.” 

He can see the cogs in Dean’s brain turning, fervently hoping to see his brother’s jaw unclench and his shoulders relax as his words sink in and find acceptance. But this is Dean Winchester, who can be a self-righteous asshole one day and beat himself to a pulp the next. Self-forgiveness is a concept entirely alien to him, and today isn’t the day where that’s going to change.

“Yeah, well,” Dean says bitterly, “fact is you wouldn’t have gotten hurt if I’d done my job.” 

Sam lifts his hands in exasperation, but this seems to be the end of their exchange since Dean starts the Impala back up and lets its engine roar, pumping the gas a few times to cut off any attempt at further conversation.

“Good talk,” Sam comments acerbically, inaudible over the noise. 

Deftly, Dean steers the Impala back on the road, tires searching traction with a screech before they take off, swerving.

Bracing himself against the dash, Sam grits his teeth when a jolt of pain runs through his back. He really, really hopes they’ll find the Yellow Eyed demon soon. Bad enough what he did to Sam and his mother. But the collateral damage he caused - in his dad, in Dean - makes Sam’s blood boil. 

Time for payback. 

The Damage Control Series - Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[slight-gaming-addict]

jealousy, jealousy II

part 1 | masterlist | request rules

jealousy headcanons on how jealous the characters are

characters: riddle rosehearts, kalim al-asim, idia shroud

a/n: i've recently posted jealousy headcanons with some of the housewardens and figured i might as well do the rest of them. lmk if you would like to see me write about some other characters<3

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔

8/10

tries not to completely lose his mind when he sees someone getting too close to you for his liking.

tries but fails to calmly walk up to you to find out what's going on.

by the second sentence out of the person's mouth he's about to blow up on them for getting that close to you.

you can see him about to lose his patience with the stranger, and quickly try to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand.

you attempt to explain that the person was only asking for directions, and even if they did get a little too close for comfort, all you did was show them the way to go.

even if riddle believes and trusts that that was all that happened, he doesn't quit dangerously eyeing the other person down.

if you manage to safely drag him away from the other person to where they aren't seen anymore, he will keep you closer than usual as if they're going to randomly show up again. if they do you definitely would not be able to stop him from doing anything.

however, if the stranger doesn't take to kindly to how riddle is behaving towards them, you best believe all hell will break loose and you wouldn't even want to attempt to interfere with the situation.

he ultimately just wants to keep you safe from any creeps, and will not hold his tongue or temper if he finds you in a situation that you look uncomfortable in, or he finds unnecessary.

𝑲𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒎 𝑨𝒍-𝑨𝒔𝒊𝒎

1/10

probably doesn't even know what jealousy is to be completely honest.

if someone explains it to him he'd probably be confused like why would someone get mad at their partner seemingly making friends with other people?

and the other part of him is wondering why they wouldn't have full trust in their partner like he does. he doesn't think you would be deceiving towards him, so why should he be bothered with you spending your time to get to know someone?

if he sees someone getting really close to you he's going to mistake it as them being a good friend of yours and then proceeding to ask them if they want to have lunch with you guys.

you have to slowly explain that you don't really know the person and would rather just have you two and jamil at lunch.

will ask you if there's something wrong if you seem particularly bothered by the situation.

if you don't want to talk about it in the moment, he'll just change the topic and go on about the day that he had.

if you do end up telling him how the person was in your space and bothering you, he'll try his best to understand the situation and will steer you away from the person if you guys ever run into them again.

all in all he's not really worried about you leaving him for another person, or that someone might persuade you to be with them instead. he has his full trust in you and knows that you would never do something like that.

𝑰𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅

3/10

doesn't even leave his room enough to know if you're even talking to someone else.

he's in the mindset of not caring what goes on outside his room doors most of the time.

there are times where he does convince you to stay with him in his room all day so he is able to spend time with you without having to leave the room.

however, if ortho comes to him telling him about you spending a lot of your time with a person he's never heard you talk about before, he's going to be suspicious.

will beg ortho to get more information on this person for him.

when that doesn't work he will very reluctantly make his way out of his room in order to track down you and this mystery person.

he thinks about just sending his tablet out in his stead, but doesn't feel it would be the most effective thing in the moment.

watches you and the person from a distance at first before eventually making his way over to you.

he can see the shock on your face when you see him out of his room, but it quickly turns into a smile and you introduce him to the new friend that you made.

they don't seem the least bit threatening and he practically groans from his idiocy of having to see for himself. this is what he came out of his room for?

safe to say you don't see idia out and about anymore after the interaction.

buy me a coffee ♡