#white modern desert home

[fashionsforlovers]

Modern Pool Los Angeles Hot tub - mid-sized modern backyard concrete paver and rectangular lap hot tub idea

[microphoneheartbeats]

Modern Patio - Outdoor Kitchen Example of a mid-sized minimalist backyard concrete paver patio kitchen design with no cover

[dmabs]

Modern Patio - Outdoor Kitchen Image of a medium-sized minimalist concrete paver patio kitchen in the backyard without a cover

[okkuisul]

Phoenix Mudroom

[margarita-cansino]

Pantry Kitchen

[ptseti]

"THERE IS NO GROUP THAT EVER CAME INTO AFRICA THAT MEANT ANYTHING GOOD FOR AFRICANS" -Dr John Henrik Clarke.

“The white man is very clever. He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan can no longer act like one. He has put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart.” - From 'THINGS FALL APART' 1958, written by Chinua Achebe and was translated into Italian, French, Hungarian, Portuguese, Russian, Swiss, Flemish and other languages.

According to historian, Dr John Henrik Clarke, "every group of people that came into Africa meant nothing good for the Africans… and the very first thing each and every one of these groups did was to declare war on African culture…" What followed was the bastardization of African spirituality and ways that held the societies together for millennia before there was a Greece or Rome or before "the first European learnt to wear a shoe or live in a house that had a window." Or as Dr. Yosef Ben Jochannan put it, "Before there was Rome, Greece, Jerusalem or Mecca… Before there was a Jehovah, Jesus or Mohommet" (Muhammad ibn Abdul'Mutallib).

It most be noted that the first Hebrew to ever come into existence was a Chaldean from Ur, known as Abram in 1675 BC. Before then, their was no concept of a Jehovah or Jesus, whatsoever, and no Hebrew as a tribe, the world over, from as far as history revealed. By this time, the 82 pyramids in Kemet, and the over 203 pyramids in Meroe, the smaller Nsude pyramids in Udi highlands were already built. The Africans had their own spirituality through which they connected to the non-material world, through which they learnt science like iron smelting, as well as which herbs could heal what sort of disease, agricultural practice, astrology, alchemy, mining for useful minerals from the earth and so on.

Most of Africa were connected to the worship of a deity, Ptah. This was over 5000 years before the first Hebrew came into existence, it was thousands of years before Greece or Rome came into existence and before any Abrahamic religions (which are Judaism, Samaritanism, Christianity and Islam etc) came into the knowledge of anyone at all. Abram, the father of it all had not even come into existence.

In kemet, there was a belief that if one died far away from the Nile, one would not resurrect in the afterlife. Hence Kemet became the place of high culture for all tribal nationalities along the Nile from its source through modern day Tanzania, Uganda, Ethiopia Sudan etc. Abydos was a city of pilgrimage where most Africans, who could, travelled up the Nile, through the Sahara (Which was not a desert until about 5000 years ago, as archeological discoveries indicated), to worship and commune with other Africans. Osiris later become the god in Abydos while Memphis became the home for Ptah, after several foreign invasion from across the Mediterranean and the sands of Arabia.

Most of the magicians in Kemet came from Gao, a city-state of the Soudan(west Africa then). African regions and cities had their own gods and it was necessary to pay homage to the god of a land when visiting or passing through as a sojourner, merchant or gypsy. By this time, Arabian peninsula was the colony of Africans (Study from 'From Babylon to Timbuktu', 'The African Origin of Major Religions, Herodoctus, and Strabo's geographica).

{[IMAGE: The 'inner circle' of the Mossi people. Not every king on the throne rose to the societal status, necessary to attend this gathering. The first shattering effect on this 'inner circle' began when the Arabs arrived west Africa in the 7th century CE, while extending the trans-saharan trade routes through the desert.]}

[aheathen-conceivably]

Somewhere on the other side of downtown Strangerville the town’s shopfronts pettered off into the desert, and an old road led through stone buildings falling to the sands of time. Like everything else in this town, Jo figured they had been toppled by the wind and the air; but the people who lived there knew better.

It was just as far from the farmhouse as Jo was willing to walk in heels, although not much further from the bar than her own house was. The fact that she could now call it her house added some spring to her step, even if she had no plans for it to remain that way forever. But for now, it was at least enough to anchor her to her promise to Gio, and the knowledge that she would be leaving it in less than 24 hours made every sight and sound more appealing than ever before, especially since she was there to pick up her ticket out.

Not long after Jo had agreed to her father’s offer, Val had approached her with a smile like she held a secret or had somehow already outwitted Jo in a game she hadn’t even realized they had begun to play.

From the depths of one of her pockets she had fished out the keys to a 1932 Ford Roadster, laughing at Jo’s confused face. Almost as quickly as she had produced them, Val had tucked the keys back into her pocket where they most likely rarely saw the light of day, then explained that the car was Jo’s if she needed it for the tour. All of Jo’s subsequent questions were met with simple shrugs or smiles, so when she approached the house the day before they were set to leave she was still surprised to see Val actually leaning astride the car she had promised.

Before either of them could say a word Jo’s eyes began to wander the scene in front of her. None of it was anything like she had expected. The car was sleek but sturdy, modern and flashy, and utterly at odds with the woman using it like a simple fence post in the desert. Behind it was a small white house with bright shutters and a daring red door, juxtaposed against dilapidated wooden shacks flanking either side of it. Jo didn’t quite know where to look or what to take from the whole scene, so her eyes lingered on the rocking chair on the front porch and wondered if Val ever sat there near sunset.

Val caught her curious gaze and crossed her arms, “What? Were you expecting me to live in a teepee like the guidebooks told you I would?”

A flush crept up Jo’s face as her eyes darted back to the woman she was set to meet. “Val! That’s…that’s not it at all. It’s just so colorful, so new…” So unlike anything I imagined from you. From the house I thought about you going back home to night after night while I tried not to think about where you slept and undressed on my own walks home. Only now I’m here and you’re here and does the inside look like this too? Does your bedroom look just as warm and modern and…

Valcita’s laugh broke the tension settling over the air with every unspoken thought racing across Jo’s mind. “Jesus Christ, Jo, relax. I’m kidding! Come here, would you?”

She leaned off the trunk, gesturing for Jo to walk nearer as she began to explain the mechanisms and workings of the interior. Jo ran her hand along the swooping edge of the car, open to the sky above so that you could drive with your hair blowing in the wind. Already she could hear it deafening her ears, throwing off the protective cover of the truck’s thin metal roof where she had learned to navigate the winding curves at breakneck speeds and made a promise that was getting harder and harder to remember.

As Val kept talking, explaining which buttons to press and gears to shift, Jo couldn’t help but look at her standing between the glittering black paint and small porch. Her ever-present turquoise necklace caught the light of the sun and reflected the color of the shutters. It was usually her only adornment, but now it seemed like just a rock in the desert alongside this treasure she had never expected to find at the edge of the dust bowl.

Val was mid sentence, pointing to the levers for the windows and the locks when Jo’s question finally slipped from her lips. “Why do you have it anyway? The car, I mean. Do you leave? The bar is so close, and I’ve never seen it outside…”

Immediately Val’s arms went back across her body, although Jo was beginning to realize it wasn’t a stance of defensiveness for her the way she had originally thought. It was always paired with some sort of smile that told her it was usually amusement. Or even more likely, defiance. She shrugged her shoulders and confirmed it was the latter. “It was new. Suppose I didn’t need much more of a reason than that, did I?”

The keys now firmly in her own pocket and some modicum of knowledge on how to work the thing thanks to Gio, Jo followed Val around to the driver’s side door. She waited purposefully for Val to lift her hand to the door and pull it open before placing her own neatly beside hers.

As she went to step inside she lifted her right hand to the door, forgetting to move her other one away from Val’s as she looked at the interior of the car laid out before her like a new world. It was nothing like the truck she had learned to drive in, the same one she had dreams of stealing in the night and driving off into the desert with. Only she could already tell that this one was even faster, fast enough to take her all the way to California, or maybe even back to New Orleans. By the time anyone realized, she would be too far gone for them to ever find her again.

Her breath caught in her throat as she composed herself to look back at Val. “I’ll be back at the bar before you know it. It’s only a few weeks after all.”

Val pulled her hand away from Jo’s, as though to tell her she had seen exactly what she had been thinking and had no intentions of holding her back. “No you won’t. I’ve seen your brother play, and I saw how you handled him with my father. They’ll be another tour, and another, until you’re out in California with the rest of the women that look like you.”

Suddenly Jo felt her feet lock in place, and she hesitated to get into the car that she had considered running away in seconds before. “What’s - what’s that supposed to mean?”

As though she could sense the shift in Jo’s posture, Val leaned her weight onto the door. “I said it the day you walked into my bar, ain’t nothing about you that belongs in this town. Not sure how you got out here anyway. But here,” she said, nodding at the steering wheel and moving to shut the door behind Jo as soon as she stepped inside, “There’s your ticket out. Just try and return it to me in one piece, will you?”

[thegirlfromblackwater]

If the Van der Linde Gang lived in Modern Times (Modern Au)

Life gives you funny ideas...and I'm going to write them down

Arthur

Would live on a ranch in Montana or Wyoming as a rancher

Offers services like trail rides, lessons, and boarding

Has a herd of cattle

Spends every Sunday watching Rodeos on TV

Watches while sitting in his favorite worn-out armchair

Always has a cold beer and a snack or his dinner while watching

Has a pickup truck that's a bit filthy on the inside. Addresses his car as a "she."

Treats it like a horse: calls it a "good gurl."

Has a mounted Trout and some taxidermy on the walls

The Wifi at the ranch is spotty..doesnt understand why guests need it when they're surrounded by nature

Network Name: MorganRanch Password: Ynnel123

Tried to fix the router once but not exactly tech savvy. Ended up punching it

Texts Albert Mason sometimes

Dutch

Definitely lives in a city either Los Angeles or New York City

Lives in a Snazzy Penthouse in the clouds with a skyline

Works as a motivational speaker

Wears a lot of bling

Has a bar in at his place

Molly always tries to find a way in

Calls Hosea a lot

Has a weird fetish for black, red and white furniture.

Still loves reading books by Evelyn Miller despite that the writer is a nobody living in Idaho

John, Abigail & Jack

They probably live out west on a farm (very much like Beechers Hope)

John works on the ranch and also has side multiple side jobs (thanks to Abigail)

Jack spends his time in the school library

Abigail is obsessed with this one bakery

Molly

Lives in whatever city Dutch lives in

Tries to make herself at home in the penthouse

Famous on social media for her makeup tutorials

The neighbors can usually hear Molly & Dutch fighting

Dutch: "Not now Miss O'shea" Molly: "Pig!"

Bill

Lives somewhere in the Midwest

Works as a truck driver for Walmart

spends a lot of his life on the road

Has a bit of road rage

likes rest stops

when he's not working, he is a part of a biker gang

has a tattoo sleeve and wears a white wife beater

one of those bikers that wears a bandana with the American flag on it

Marybeth

Probably lives in a quaint town on the east coast

Works in a bookstore during the day and is a freelance writer in her free time

Lives in a cute townhouse with a small garden in the front full of flowers.

Her house is cozy

has a seating area with big windows that look out over the street

spends her time writing and reading there

likes to sit at cafes and drink coffee

Lenny

Is a full-time university student by day and bartender by night

Lives in Chicago or Atlanta

Probably double majoring in Business and literature (if that combination even exists)

Lives his single life to the fullest

Mostly an A student who goes full ham on the weekends when partying

Micah

Lives in Las Vegas

Sells illegal drugs

Has no money because he gambled too much

Stays in different hotels

Owns a pawn shop

Everything for sale there was smuggled across the border

Has dealings with the cartels & other shady characters

Hosea

Lives a quiet life out west

Goes to his lake house on the weekends to go fly fishing

Reads a lot of books

Also likes to go hunting

Is a part time English teacher who teaches children to read

Talks to Dutch by phone

Sometimes visits Arthur and stays at his Ranch

Uncle

Lives in a trailer park in Florida where the weather is always warm and the cold won't bother his illness

Sits on a folding chair outside his mobile home

Plays the Banjo

Drinks a beer

Is a complete mess inside

Doesn't own much furniture

Can't work because of the Lumbago

Sweats a lot

Naps and snores too loud

Lives next to a swamp

Javier

Lives in Arizona

Lives in the desert

Grows cactuses

Owns a Music shop

Travels around playing at local bars

Works part time as a music teacher at the local high school

Has a YouTube where he shows off his music

Sadie

Probably lives in a city like Dallas or Denver

Works as a cop

Likes to catch people for speeding and sits on the side of the highway

eats Chick-fil-A while waiting

Watches Dateline

Carries a Taser

Always looks sexy in her uniform

Charles

Definitely lives in a cabin out west

works as a conservationist

Likes National Parks

Goes fishing with Arthur

supports and donates to the Bison Sanctuary (if one even exists)

Likes Camping

Trelawny

Lives a wealthy life in Charleston, South Carolina

Lives in a large southern mansion

Wears a robe to sleep

Has a whole walk-in closet full of clothes and accessories

Has a sauna in the basement where he relaxes

Owns a bunch of fancy cars: He loves his Bentley

Reverend Swanson

Probably lives in Philadelphia

Still works part-time at the church

Mostly spends his time helping people with addictions

Hosts an AA meeting three times a week

Rescues crackheads from the street

Mostly sober

Wrote a memoir on his journey to recovery

Sean

Lives in Boston

Likes the university/young people vibe

works at a pub

Everyone's favorite Bartender

Makes customers laugh

goes back to Ireland once a year

Takes Karen with him sometimes

Karen

Lives in Portland, Oregon

Works at a bar as a bartender and a stripper

Good Pole Dancer

Her large tits are popular amongst the men

Puts on shows in the evening

Talks to Sean a lot

Gets Hammered

Strauss

Works in Finance in New York City

Is a Workaholic

Has no friends

Goes back to Austria every few years

Boring to talk to

Always on a work call

Listens to Classical Music

Tilly

Lives in Nashville, Tennessee

Visits Marybeth a lot

Wants to be a Nurse

Likes taking care of people

Wants to travel around the world

Pearson

Lives somewhere in New England

Owns a restaurant and catering business

The restaurant is interestingly enough called "Pearsons"

Probably has a wife and some kids

Loves Maine Lobster one of those people that wears a bib when eating it because he's messy

Is a good Butcher

Susan Grimshaw

Lives in Florida

Is a housekeeper

Cleans uncles' mobile home once a week

Tries to control Tilly and Marybeth from miles away

disgruntled

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

A Southern Myth

Summary: Leon had been sent to a rural place in Texas where sightings of a BOW were reported. But upon entering the forgotten town, he began to get entangled in a horrific twist of events involving a religious cult. Things escalate and now he must survive with the help of a girl who doesn’t believe in anything.

Warning: horror. religion. mentions of blood and gore like description. cult activities. violence. swearing. reader is fem. there is no romance/smut.

A/N: omg I’ve never written something like this before🙈 CAPCOM should hire me for script writing.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not.” - John Seed, Far Cry 5

“Come forth, my children. Let your souls become pure under His guidance.”

“Let us rejoice in purity as we bathe in this sacrifice. Let us become one for Him, for He has been waiting.”

-

The sound of the dirt rolling under the car’s wheel made the road feel bumpy for Leon. The heat was intense the further he went into the rural side of what was once a town named Giligand in Texas. Once a lively town that had become a ghost town.

Until a group of religious settlers took over the desert land and claimed it their new home. They built their own society, far away from modern civilization. The orange and dried plants surrounding the new town as the wind blew hard. The sun intensified and caused Leon’s sweat to trickle down his body.

Right in the middle of nowhere is where he got sent- yet again. The D.S.O has assigned Leon a more haunting mission. The government division found in Texas’ own legislation had found weird signs of an unknown entity roaming around the dried up land. He found himself standing in front of an agent in Austin telling him about this entity.

“Our homeland security experts have raised a few concerns regarding a secluded town in Western Texas. They believe that this could be related to the virus incident that presided in other countries,” The senior agent stated as he gave Leon a stack of papers containing pictures and files of the sightings.

The abnormality was big and round. But its eyes were the only visible thing in the dark of night. Pure white eyes protruding from the creature’s face, sending a wave of uneasiness to Leon. The monster seemed tall, definitely more than 9 feet tall. Leon couldn’t tell exactly what it was but he guessed there were some sort of horns coming out the creature’s skull.

Leon had finally reached the town, being greeted by a yellowing sign. The sign written in Times New Roman “Welcome to Cunstacin” on the bottom “previously Giligand” and then near the border edge “Pop. 189”

Such a small town for a big state. Leon didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t aware of how much his life would change the minute he passed the sign without seeing those pure white eyes watching him from behind his truck.

The town itself was small but seemed very busy. The roads were flat with gravel. The houses were old and barren but still usable. He wondered how people were able to make a living of such an abandoned place. As he neared a motel, he was met with the leader of the town. A tall man of tan skin, hair long enough to reach his shoulders as his beard grew to his neck.

He approached Leon’s truck and greeted him with a polite smile, “Ah, you must be the new guy they sent here.” Leon nodded as he turned off the engine and jumped out of his car.

The man walked up to Leon and patted his shoulder, “Hope the road wasn’t too tedious. The distance between here and the city is pretty stretchy.” The man chuckled and looked behind him where two young women stood. “Go fetch his luggage and take it to his room. We don’t want to make our esteemed guest work too much now, don’t we?”

The two ladies nodded and walked over to the trunk of Leon’s truck. They both carried the brown and thick luggages to the motel, their silhouettes getting lost in between the halls.

The man then gently forced Leon to walk with him, “I’m sure you’re tired and you might want to get some rest, but there’s an afternoon mass the town wishes for you to attend. The people want to meet the new guy in town,” the man laughed again and gave Leon’s chest a lazy slap.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m here for work- strictly for work,” Leon replied as he looked at the man and then around the area.

The man chuckled and took his hand away from Leon’s shoulder, “No worries- I get it. You’re a busy guy and your work ethic is commendable,” the man leaned towards Leon’s ear to whisper, “But if you find yourself in need of His words, do come to the church behind the Great Willowed Forest.” The man leaned back and gave him another toothy smile, almost unsettling. “Make yourself at home.” That was the last thing the man said before he began to walk away.

Leon exhaled through his nose. He already got the creeps from the background check he ran on the town but meeting the people in person made the whole experience much more precarious.

He began to walk along the town, trying to find any other civilians. He saw an older woman with two children outside a two story building.

“Excuse me,” Leon said as he jogged to the three individuals. One of the children, a little boy with a bowl haircut pointed to Leon and exclaimed, “Look, meemaw- ‘tis the new guy!” The older woman slapped the little boy’s head, “Pointing at strangers is rude.”

Leon cleared his throat, “It’s alright,” he looked down at the kid before looking back at the older woman, “I’ve heard there were some strange… sightings around this town-“

“Ah, yes-“ the woman cut him off, “You’re talking Tervin.” Leon immediately furrowed his brows. They had named the potential B.O.W?

“Tervin?” Leon asked and the woman nodded, “Yes. He was sent by God,” she looked up at the sky and then back at him.

“He was kind enough to send us a messenger. My boy, the end is coming. We must cleanse our souls of our sins in order to enter our Eden.”

Leon immediately felt a weird sense of unease in his lower stomach, the bottom pit sinking down after the woman spoke.

The woman took a step forward and cupped Leon’s face, “He is our savior. He will bring us to an eternal peace. Time is ticking, we must proceed with His plan.”

Leon took a step back, taking deep breaths. What was this feeling? His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he could feel his head become light. Maybe it was heatstroke or maybe it was fear.

The woman stared at Leon, seemingly in a trance. He swore he saw her eye color vanish for a moment, not right before she “came back” and smiled at him. She then took hold of the two children’s hands and walked away. He could only stay there watching as they got further away.

He exhaled shakily as he ran a hand through his hair, this would be harder than he thought.

-

For the next following days, he’s been trying to talk to these people but everyone said remotely the same things.

“Monster? He’s no monster. He’s our salvation.”

“God sent him, it is His gift to us.”

“We must act quickly, the end is nigh”

Leon was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he was currently staying. His elbows rested on his knees as his gaze fell on the picture of the creature he had in his hand. Pure black, except for the eyes. Something felt sinister- almost too evil. But he couldn’t pinpoint what. Everyone looked normal-ish.

He left the motel and began his 15th round of research. He was so sure he’d get kicked out if he kept asking the people questions. His mind traveled back to what the leader said, something about attending mass.

He didn’t want to but he knew that he had to try. Maybe there was something that could be useful in the church.

So that’s where he was headed. To the Great Willowed Forest. A forest full of tall trees and tall grass. The sun was setting and the church came into his line of vision. A tall Victorian structure that was adorned in white and gold. A bell sitting on top of the highest tower peak of the religious establishment. He slowly walked up the freaking and old steps of the church. Muffled talking from just the other of the door. With a light inhale, he pushed the door open with gentleness and stepped into the church.

The inside was much more beautiful. The benches were neatly fixed in rows as the windows were stained glass depicting stories of their God. The church was packed and the leader stood on the podium, preaching about their path to salvation.

“We must obey the Lord’s rule. For we are His children as well as His servants. We must makeup for the loss of His journey.”

Leon found himself an empty seat at the very back. No one seemed to have noticed him enter, they were all focusing on the town’s leader words. Almost as if they were bewitched.

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

The mass lasted for an hour and a half, and he didn’t find anything remotely useful. He sighed in defeat as he felt like he wasted his time, yet again. There were no signs of any B.O.W and these people were most certainly convinced that the monster was their key to heaven.

It was nighttime when Leon had left the church, walking aimlessly through the forest. His mind preoccupied with thoughts about potentially lying to the D.S.O and telling them it was just some southern myth.

Until he hears clinking sounds coming from behind a bush. His agent instincts activated and he quietly walked towards the bush to see what was behind it.

To his surprise, he’d found another person. A girl working on a garden. She had been couched down on the floor as her hands worked through the soil.

As he walked towards you, his boots crunched against the twigs lost in the grass. Your attention had been drawn to the sound and you quickly spotted the new man in town.

You furrowed your brows as he approached you, “You’re the new guy everyone’s talking about.”

Leon nodded curtly, “The one and only,” you hummed in response and resumed your duties.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

He was caught off guard by your immediate answer. You didn’t even look back at him. He could only stare at the back of your head as your hands worked through the soil.

“You didn’t even listen to what I had to say,” he approached you and crouched next to you, glancing at the plants you’ve been planting.

“I don’t need to. You’re asking questions about this stupid and fake thing everyone claims to be salvation or some other bullshit,” you grumbled.

“Not necessarily-“ he sighed and looked at your side profile, “I’m not here for that-“

“What do you want me to tell you? That there’s some sort of monster roaming around the forest?” You turned your head to look at him, “Because I won’t. I haven’t seen anything and I do not believe it even exists. Those lunatics are hell bent on their stupid… belief,” you scoffed as you turned your attention back to your plants.

“Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” you muttered. He looked at you some more before looking back down at your hands covered in dirt.

“So you aren’t with those people?” Leon raised a brow as he analyzed you. You shook your head no, “Hell no. You don’t know what they do to those who don’t believe in their God… you don’t know anything.”

Leon remained silent as your words settled down in his mind. There was more than what you led on and both of you knew this.

“Then tell me,” he replied quietly. You sighed and looked at him with an annoyed expression, “Doesn’t matter. Just go back to your shit and mind your business.”

He didn’t say anything, he just watched you for a few minutes before he stood up and left.

He went back to his motel room and laid down on the bed. Staring up at ceiling as he thought about the events that took place. He still couldn’t shake off the strange feeling he felt about this town. Something felt odd but he just didn’t know what. He sighed and decided to just sleep for the night.

-

Leon woke up early in the morning and tried to find the leader of the town. Surprisingly, he was at the church. He was sitting down on a bench, silently praying. Leon walked up to him and sat next to him as he waited for him to finish praying.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our visitor. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man said as he noticed Leon’s presence next to him. Leon cleared his throat and pulled out a picture of ‘Tervin’

“I need you to tell me about this. What do you know?” Leon’s brows were furrowed, he was serious. He didn’t come around to play. The man took the picture and stared at it. Something in his aura had changed upon seeing that picture.

“Where did you get this?” The man asked as he looked at Leon with an unreadable expression. Leon shrugged, “I can’t say.” The man hummed and looked back at the altar in front of them.

“Tervin is a gift from God. He was sent as a warning of impending doom,” the man replied in a flat voice. “If he isn’t satisfied, then he seeks blood. We must cleanse this town of impurities and relay a message to God that we are worthy of his Eden paradise.”

Something in that caused a shiver to run down Leon’s spine, but he didn’t show it. He remained serious and calm. Leon nodded once and stood up, feeling like no one will actually tell him anything.

“Thanks,” he muttered before he left the church. When he walked out, he nearly crashed into you.

“Watch it,” you hissed at him. He looked down at you with a raised brow, “I’m pretty sure you meant ‘excuse me’” he crossed his arms over his chest and kept blocking the doorway.

You sighed and looked at him unimpressed, “Excuse me.” Leon rolled his eyes and stepped to the side. As you began to walk past him, you noticed the picture in his hands. Your brows pinched together and you quickly pointed to it, “what’s that?”

Leon looked down at the picture and then back at you, “I’m supposed to investigate this… thing.” He watched you closely, trying to gauge your reaction as you stood there silently thinking.

“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” you warned before stepping inside the church. He saw you walk up to the leader. He exhaled and walked back to the town. When will someone actually help him?

-

It was somewhere past 11 pm, he was staring at the files he had about this town and his objective. It was impossible to think how he didn’t have any leads. It was the Leon S Kennedy! He always saw that the job got done, always.

He groaned defeatedly and began to walk around the town, he doesn’t even know how many times he’s done that.

The town was awfully quiet. There was a fog occupying most of his vision, making the place look eerie and unsettling. He heard the rustling of the trees and grasses but he paid no mind to that. Not right now, at least.

He saw you sitting on a fountain, staring at your reflection deep in thought. Why were you the only one out here. He walked over to you and spoke in a soft voice, “What are you doing out here?”

You looked over at him and then back at the water, “Could ask you the same.”

Leon sighed and scratched his head, “I just- I wanted to ask questions but seems like everyone just… disappeared.”

You hummed in response as your fingers played with the water, “They didn’t. They’re at the church praying or something.”

His ears perked up, praying at this time? He didn’t want to question it but it still lingered in his mind.

After a few moments of silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “You said you didn’t believe in God, why is that?” He asked in a quiet voice.

You looked at him before motioning for him to follow you, “It’s better if I just showed you.”

You led him through the dark forest, twigs snapping under your shoes and wind howling soft whispers as the moonlight glimmered down you two.

“This town ostracizes those who don’t believe in God. Do you know what happens to nonbelievers?” You looked behind your shoulder to glance at Leon for a brief moment.

“No, I don’t but do tell,” he followed behind you as his eyes scanned the forest for any threats.

You sighed and stopped walking once you’ve reached an abandoned cemetery, you walked up to one of the gravestones and stared down at the name, “Jeffrey Clyle. 1987-2024.”

“Sacrifice,” you whispered. Leon heard you and walked up next to you, your eyes distant and your expression solemn.

“Ever since rumors of the “messenger” started, they’ve been capturing and targeting those whose faith has been faltering…” your gaze remained down at the gravestone and Leon remained silent as he let you talk.

“They’ve been doing human sacrifices in the name of God. They believe that God would forgive them if they kill those who oppose him…” your voice trailed off for a moment before you turned your face to look at him, “It’s evil. Punishing people for not believing in something is inhumane. They’re all slaves to their own fucking religion, that God is not kind and I will never believe in it.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” Leon asked as he stared into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Because my father is the fucking leader of this whole thing. I can’t just leave,” you mumbled and looked away. “I already get judged for not believing- imagine what would happen to me if I left?”

He remained silent once again. Your father was the preacher and the leader of the town? That makes things even more interesting. Leon never pictured himself to be in this kind of situation- not since Spain, at least. It all seemed the same to him. Religion controlling people, is that all it will ever be?

Then he remembered something from mass he attended,

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he began to finally realize what might happen. He looked down at you, “You mean to tell me… that your father participates in human sacrifices? Why?” His eyes were narrowed as his breathing became faster.

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Because his idiotic self thinks that sacrificing people will help him and his goons reach their heaven.”

Innocent lives were being used for this town’s religion. This didn’t sit right with Leon. He quickly ran out of the cemetery- his heartbeat speeding as his legs carried his body towards the church.

Under the embrace of the moon and the night, a gathering assembled at the edge of the churchyard, shrouded by the shadows cast by the townspeople. Their faces unrecognizable under the dark night, their chants in hushed tones as they circled around a sacrifice.

Bound by chains, a person writhed in resistance, their muffled cries stifled by a potato sack over their head. Leon stood behind a tree as you came behind him to look at the scene unfold in front of your eyes.

The leader of the town emerged, wielding a sacrificial blade gleaming under the moonlight. Each stroke of the blade sent shivers down your’s and Leon’s spine, as the victim's anguished pleas echoed through the night, a haunting presence appeared through the tethered night.

“We give this sacrifice to you, our Lord. Let us repent for our sins and wash ourselves with the blood of those who’ve been cleansed.”

The creature- otherwise known as the B.O.W- emerged from behind the forest and entered the churchyard. Its stature was 11 feet, towering over everyone. Its black glistening skin reflected the moonlight as its pearly white eyes penetrated the group of believers. Its horns swirled upwards, reaching up to the sky. The townspeople all bowed to the creature as they chanted its name, “All hail Tervin.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he saw the B.O.W while your eyes widened at the fact that this “messenger” was indeed real. Leon took out his gun and aimed it at the B.O.W. You quickly pulled his arm down and whispered in a harsh tone, “Are you stupid? That thing could be dangerous.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at you, “I’ve fought those things before, I know what I’m doing.” He shook your hands away from his arm and aimed the gun back at the beast.

The beast approached the human sacrifice and with its claws, it picked up. Almost instantly crushing the human, letting the blood fall down like rain on the townspeople.

“Thank you, Lord, for this blessing”

The B.O.W then ate the human sacrifice after the townspeople showered in their blood. A scene so horrific and disturbing, it twisted your stomach upside down. The creeping sensation of the fact that it could’ve been you in that situation only made it worse.

To feel your rib cage cave in, piercing your lungs and heart as blood trickles down your mouth. Its claws clawing into your body, letting the blood flow like water.

It only made you shiver and writhe in disgust.

Leon then began to shoot at the B.O.W with his gun, drawing the attention of the townspeople. One bullet shot the creature’s eye, causing it to stagger backwards in pain. The group of believers all turned to look at you and Leon.

Their faces unrecognizable- their faces foreign as the creases and eyes all felt like distinct people. The group slowly began to walk towards you two as the monster howled in anger.

“God, forgive those sinners. They haven’t sought your guidance. Let us illuminate their path,”

The leader spoke as they approached you and Leon. Anxiety coursed through your body as you saw the B.O.W swing its claws at the group of believers. People flying left and right. The leader turned around and observed in delight.

“Yes, God, yes! We shall sacrifice ourselves for Eden.”

The whole group then began to chant, “For Eden. For Tervin.”

The B.O.W only had one goal in mind- and it was to kill the person who injured it. As Tervin kept walking towards you and Leon, Leon took hold of your wrist and began to ran. He dragged you through the forest back to the motel he was staying in.

He looked the door to his room and turned to look at you, “What the fuck was that!?” Leon was stressing, all these emotions resurfaced and he felt overwhelmed. Why was this happening, how was this happening?

“I told you, they’re fucking evil when it comes to their God,” you replied harshly.

“Yeah I wasn’t exactly expecting your father to be the leader of a cult with that thing as its dog!,” Leon replied as his hands traveled through his face and hair.

You scoffed and crossed your arms over you chest but just as you were to speak, the ground shook. Heavy footsteps were heard and Leon rushed to the window. He peeked through the blinds and saw the group of believers walking over to the motel with Tervin in following them. They kept chanting as they kept walking.

“We need to get out of here now-“ you said as you began to hurry out the door. Leon, however, stopped you.

“I can’t just leave, I have a mission to do and it requires me to kill that thing. I cannot go home until it’s dead,” he said as he stared at you with a resolved expression.

You could only stare at him in silence for a few moments before sighing defeatedly, “Fine, do whatever you want.”

“Stay here,” he instructed as he took his gun and walked out, leaving you alone in his motel room.

In the flickering glow of the moonlight, amidst the eerie chants of the cultists, Leon stood there, gun in hand as he scanned the group. He needed to be smart. They had a B.O.W to their advantage.

As the first cultist lunged forward, knife in hand, Leon countered with swift precision, deflecting the blade with a punch to the gut. His movements were a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. As he killed and wounded the cultists, they grew more frenzied, their chants escalating into desperate cries of fury. Yet, undeterred, Leon continued fighting.

“We must bring him to God!” They chanted as they kept lunging at Leon.

Amidst the chaos, the B.O.W stepped forward, its twisted features contorted with rage as it charged at Leon. With the gun pointed at the beast, he shot bullet after bullet, causing it to slow its movements.

“God, please forgive our brother for he has sinned. We must cleanse him.”

Leon ran out of bullets and just as the B.O.W was about to strike, he saw you throw a pitchfork at it. The blades piercing the creature’s skin, stabbing it right in the chest.

The B.O.W let out a screeching scream, “No! Our messenger!” The leader spoke in anguish as he watched the creature stumble back, falling to the ground with a thud. Leon reloaded his gun and began to shoot again, this time aiming for the head.

As Leon became busy, your father glared at you and it was like something turned in him, “You bitch. I’ve had just about it with you. You will submit to your God and you will repent!”

You’ve never heard him speak to you this way, so much malice in his voice that you didn’t recognize the man that used to be your father.

He lunged at you, his hands trying to reach for your neck to strangle you. You took a nearby torch and set his clothes on fire. He stood back and tried to set the fire off of himself- to which he fails. He screams and cries in pain as he began to get engulfed in the flames of his sins.

“Forgive me, my children!”

You finally understood everything. There was no God because your father believed he was that God. The flames burned up in hues of blue and orange right before the sparks flew into the night sky.

His skin melted, his eyes became a blobby mess and he fell to the ground. His screech becoming more faint as the life in being burnt away from his body. The flames expanding over the dried wheat of the town, engulfing the town in a pit of fire.

Leon had been too busy to even notice that you killed your father. He’s been shooting the B.O.W, making sure to blow its head off once and for all.

After two rounds of reloading, he finally was able to kill that damn thing. Watching it fall to the ground, sending harsh vibrations to the floor as silence overtook the ghostly town.

Heavy panting overtook the two of you as the silence grew deafening. You turned to look at Leon as he stared at the B.O.W all lifeless. You looked around and saw the bloodbath. Everyone was dead.

Pools of blood stained the gravel he once stepped, the lifeless bodies of the townspeople growing cold. The flames being the only source of light under the dark night.

Leon turned to look at you for a brief moment before looking up at sky as he tried to take deep breaths. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe what he was brought into. But he was glad it was over. For now at least.

Leon packed his things and went over to his truck, he looked at you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You looked at him and then back at the town- or what remained of the town. You nodded and walked over to his truck.

Both of you driving down the lane of the rose, exiting the town. Passing by a sign that read, “Please visit soon!”

Unaware of the presence with the white eyes watching you two leave the town.

[lucysgraybird]

⋆˙⟡𖦹 it's just good public relations! 𖦹⟡˙⋆

modern!racing au

william h bonney x reader

William H Bonney was many things. Champion driver, secret guitarist, angel boyfriend, you name it - it was nigh-impossible not to sing his praises.

One thing he was not, much to the chagrin of the people in charge of his very public career, was good at social media. To be generous, he wasn't particularly attached to his phone in the first place.

With more than a few reminders, he had gotten better at replying to texts (within six hours of receiving them, which was far from ideal but his team had realized when it was time to cut their losses), but beyond that, it was like explaining water to the desert. Billy stood by the idea that not knowing how to use his phone kept him off his phone, which was probably true.

However, his complete absence on social media made any brief appearance all the more exciting. With a virtuous online presence and an association with him, the attention your various accounts started getting after your relationship went public was staggering. It was easy to forget until you posted a photo of the two of you at an event, or a stylised shot of his hand on your waist, and that carousel would get an astronomical number of likes. The comments eventually would have to be turned off on those.

Today, you were watching him coast through a post-race press event on sheer charm. Though he refused to be any more public than he had to, he was elegant with the events the job demanded. With shy, humble smiles and ducks of his head being his response to compliments despite his prowess, he had captured hearts easily. A careful, antiquated politeness, bordering on chivalry, had only exacerbated that.

Billy came bounding over to you after the press was done, hands already tugging his racing suit down to his waist as he approached with a dazzling smile. You stood.

“Proud of you, baby,” you said, standing on your tiptoes and stealing a quick kiss.

Closer now, you could inspect his expression. Elation, yes, at placing first after a rocky start to the season. A warmth that always tinted his gaze when he was looking at you (your heart swelled). Then, teetering at the edge of his smile, was the exhaustion that came crashing in after a race, the rush and drop of chemicals that came with racing and winning and coming down from that leaving him overtired.

“Wanna go home?” You were already picking up your things when you asked.

Wordlessly, Billy took your hand and began tugging you through the throngs of people still at the track. He looked back every now and again but his fingers twisted through yours mitigates his need for reassurance. Following cooperatively, you pulled out your phone and snapped a picture down the line of your arm, his strong build with Ferrari red draped around his waist center in the frame. It's stark against the white of his fireproofs.

The caption on the photo read “P1 at Monza❤️”, a simple display of your pride in him.

You don't anticipate the…effect the photo has on the internet. You'd have to agree, the way the white Nomex clung to his torso was attractive, but waking up from a late afternoon nap to the dozens of notifications on that story alone was a little staggering. You showed Billy when he woke up, a grin on your face. He just blushed and rolled over to hide his reddening face, and you smiled. Maybe it was better that he stayed offline.

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 6

A/N: hey so did you guys know I find writing dialogue infuriating?? English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: swearing, weed, smoking, slight mention of manipulation, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Present

The flight to America was long. After leaving the van, Butcher had led the group, including you, towards a private plane. How he had gotten that in his possession, you didn’t dare ask.

"Russia."He had told you when he was asked where the hell you were. All this time, you had thought you were in your own country—the one you were raised in, trained in.

Manipulated in. Shaped in. Lied in.

You hadn’t dared to sleep on the plane. Your eyes were too focused on the people around you, and they, in return, didn’t take their eyes off of you either. It was an endless cycle of silent distrust, like a coiled snake ready to strike at the faintest flicker of weakness.

Butcher, with that permanent sneer etched onto his face, seemed oddly at ease, lounging in one of the leather seats as though this were all routine. The others, however, shifted uneasily, side-glancing at you and occasionally muttering in voices too low to catch. They knew things about you, things you hadn’t been allowed to know about yourself. Secrets planted in you, roots twisting through your memory, leaving a tangled mess you were just beginning to understand.

When the wheels had touched down, the silence between you and the others was heavier than ever. One by one, they had risen, adjusted their coats, hid weapons or stashed them, preparing for…something. You weren’t sure what. Butcher glanced back at you as the group headed for the exit.

"Stick close," he growled, his tone hinting at the consequences if you didn’t. You rose to follow, but a thought tugged at you—the same one that had haunted you for weeks now. Why am I here? You had been trained to follow orders, to be useful. To be a fucking soldier. But now, without a team of your own, without a clear purpose, with complete strangers and a man who didn’t remember you, you felt like a weapon without a target.

As you stepped into the next van, a white one this time, the biting chill of Russia was replaced by the dry, metallic heat of the American air. And the drive was, once again, long, through silent stretches of deserted roads, a landscape that grew more barren and industrial as the minutes ticked by. A landscape way too modern for your liking.

Eventually, you pulled into a shadowy parking lot, a motel shining in its glory on the other side of it. The motel loomed in the dark like a fortress of faded neon, its sign shining so brightly, that it cast a sickly glow on the empty lot in the burning daylight. Butcher muttered something to the driver, then turned to you and the rest of the group with a thin, humourless smile.

"Home sweet home," he sneered. "Get comfortable."

He climbed out, his boots crunching on the gravel as he motioned for everyone to follow. You felt a strange disorientation, a sense that you were stumbling into a world half-hidden, a world that you weren’t quite part of yet.

Butcher led you all through a side door into a bright hallway, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and bleach. The walls were a sickly yellow, way too bright for your eyes. You heard voices somewhere down the hall, muttered and low, a constant hum that seemed to blend into the buzz of blinding lights overhead.

One of Butcher's associates—the scrawny man who you had learnt to be named Hughie—looked back at you, sizing you up, as if he was trying to decide if it would be a good idea to make conversation with you. He didn’t say anything, but his mouth opened regularly, just to be closed again immediately after.

Who names a kid Hughie, anyway?

Finally, Butcher stopped outside a door, fishing a key from his pocket. "This is where we’re holed up for the night." he grunted, throwing the door open. It was a room with multiple doors, making it almost feel like a five-bedroom apartment. You glanced towards the back of the room, where a cabinet held a single device- which almost looked like.. a TV?

The carpet looked soft, patterned with designs you couldn't quite place, and the smell was almost too good to believe. This whole damn situation was too good to believe. Nobody just gets you out of a facility with that much trouble.

Soldier Boy immediately left the main area, opening the furthest door before slamming it shut with such force that you almost flinched.

You were left with the rest of the group, the man whose accent you couldn't quite place dropping onto the couch before lighting what seemed to be a blunt. You frowned upon seeing his actions.

“Is that-“ you started, but the man cut you off almost immediately.

“Want one?”

That shit was illegal, last time you checked. How did he just light up one so casually?

“But, isn’t weed-“Once again, you were cut off before you could finish your sentence.

“Hasn't been illegal for a long time, love,” It was Butcher who had cut you off this time, a teasing smile edged onto his lips. “At least I hope it isn't. Frenchie can’t keep his hands off of the damn shit.”

Frenchie. Ah. Because he was fucking French?

A girl sat down next to him, and it was then you realised she hadn't uttered a single word all this time. But quite honestly, you didn't care. You didn't want to speak to anyone here anyway.

“Give me that.” You muttered as you reached towards the joint hanging from Frenchie’s lips, snatching it from his loose grip and inhaling the sweet drug yourself while taking place on the chair in the corner of the room.

Damn, did that feel fucking good.

“Great. Another junkie. You know how to pick them, Butcher.” The broad, dark-skinned man looked you over, a look of distrust in his eyes, with something you’d say looked like hatred.

Full-on hatred.

He left soon after the words had left his mouth, aiming for the room the furthest away from where Ben had just entered.

“Forgive MM. He’s a li’l tense.” The words left Butcher's mouth like they were rehearsed, almost like he’d had to say them many, many fucking times before.

You looked a Hughie, who had a glint of wonder shining in his eyes. And you decided you could no longer take his silent admiration.

“Just speak up, you're going to get your brain cooked if you think about it any fucking longer.”

Hughie’s face flushed, and he gave a nervous half-laugh. "Right, yeah, sorry. I was just—uh, thinking you might, you know… need anything?"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Do I look like I need help?"

He shrank back slightly, rubbing his neck. "Well… no. But you do look, uh, tense."

The edge of his voice grated on you, but you found yourself holding back the sharp reply that sprang to mind. Hughie’s wide-eyed sincerity was almost… disarming. Not quite annoying, but close enough to be irritating. You took another drag from the joint, exhaling the smoke in a slow, curling stream that made him squirm under your gaze.

"Maybe I am," you replied finally, as the burn of the weed started to settle in, softening the sharp edges of the moment.

Butcher, sensing the tension as easily as a shark senses blood, chuckled as he slumped onto the couch on the other side of Frenchie, his arm sprawled across the back. "Best to relax, eh? Ain't no reason to trust us just yet, but might as well get comfy." He shot you a pointed look. "Wouldn't want you lashing out at us, soldier."

You stiffened slightly at that. Soldier. The word felt heavy, loaded with every fragment of an identity you’d been handed, and then dragged through hell with. But right now, you felt as if the word was used against you.

A form of manipulation you recognised all too well.

You glanced around the room, sizing each of them up—their guarded expressions, eyes flickering between caution and something sharper. Like you, they weren’t here by choice; they were pulled into the world of someone else’s agenda, their every move shadowed by doubt.

Butcher turned away, seeming to lose interest as he gestured toward Frenchie. "Frenchie, Kimiko, see if you can find us some real food. Nothing from the motel vending machine."

Frenchie and the girl gave a lazy salute, him mumbling something in French as he rose, giving you a quick nod as he passed, a spark of mischief glinting in his eyes. You got the feeling he could read you better than most, maybe even better than Butcher, but he wasn’t about to pry. They sauntered out of the room, leaving you and the others in a strangely awkward silence.

Hughie broke it, clearing his throat. "So, um…what’s your story, anyway?"

You shot him a cold look. "What’s it to you?"

He raised his hands in defence. "Nothing, just…you don’t exactly look like the type who follows Butcher around willingly."

"Right," MM added, stepping back into the room. His stare was unyielding as he glanced from you to Butcher, his shoulders tense with barely contained frustration. "Another question I’ve got too. Why’d we pick up this one, Butcher? First Soldier Boy, now Fury?"

Butcher’s smirk widened, almost enjoying the tension. "Easy, MM. Trust me, she’s gonna be useful. This one’s got a… particular knowledge."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "So, what is it you expect me to do, exactly?"

Butcher leaned forward, that dangerous glint in his eye intensifying. "We asked your li’l friend from the past to help us with a problem. He, however, has proven unuseful at the first opportunity to fix it. Along with us, we’d like you to take down a supe named Homelander, together with Vought. Some big fish need taking care of, and you’ve got a rep that says you’re more than capable. Or, am I wrong?"

It was a baited question, but you didn’t flinch. "You tell me. You seem to know a lot about what I can do."

"Only what I’ve heard." Butcher’s tone was amused, but his gaze was sharp, unwavering. "But I figure you’ve been in the dark about most of it. They’ve kept you chained up in that facility for so long, all locked up with nothing to lose but your mind. Well, here’s your chance to earn back a bit of that freedom."

You tensed at the thought. Freedom was something you’d nearly forgotten the taste of, something that had felt like a distant memory until you were thrust into this strange company of misfits. Now it was dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick, but you knew Butcher well enough to know it wouldn’t come without a cost.

You had fucking expected this anyway.

Fucking manipulation all over.

"So what, you want me to play attack dog for you lot?"

Butcher snorted, glancing around the room. "Attack dog, cannon fodder, hell, maybe even an ally. You’re here because you’re dangerous. I figure you’ll either find a use for that, or you’ll find yourself out on your ass. Your call."

The threat was as clear as the invitation. It hung in the air, thick and potent, as you studied each of their faces again. They were all different in their ways—MM with his sceptical eyes, Frenchie with his enigmatic grin, Hughie with his fidgeting nervousness, and Butcher with that smirk that told you he never played fair.

A sliver of something—maybe adrenaline, maybe the weed—flickered in you as you took in the group around you. For the first time in a long time, you felt the urge to fight, not for anyone else’s agenda, but for your own survival, your own questions. Maybe Butcher was right. You’d play his game. For now.

"Fine," you muttered, leaning back into the couch, your posture finally relaxing a bit as you held Butcher’s gaze, unblinking. "Who’s this Homelander, anyway?"

Butcher looked at Hughie before the younger boy walked over to you with a device you couldn’t quite place. He held it up, almost like a picture frame, but the unexpected light coming from the device burnt into your eyes.

“What the fuck is that?” You muttered in disbelief.

“A real son of a bitch, isn't he?” Butcher let out a low chuckle from afar.

“No, the fucking picture frame.”

“My phone?” Hughie spoke up carefully, as if afraid of letting off a bomb when he responded.

“That is no fucking phone.”

“21st century, uh, we got them like this nowadays.”

You would grow to hate his irritating stutter of responses. You already knew that.

Hughie held up his phone once more, and instead of trying to comment on it even further, you took the device from him with foreign precision, as if scared to hold something so far from your mental pictures of life.

As you looked at the image that was shown on the screen, you frowned once more upon looking at the man named Homelander. It was a strange feeling that went through you, almost familiar. You glanced at his facial features, slightly recognising the way his nose hung over his lips and the way his eyebrows framed his eyes almost the same as-

“Who’s he?” you asked before you could dwell on it further, and handed the phone back to Hughie.

“He’s the new Soldier boy.” Butcher answered.

“Great. Another fucking asshole leading a shit team of supes, then.” You muttered, taking another drag from the joint still smoking between your fingers.

Butcher’s grin widened as he watched you process the information. “You catch on quick, love. Homelander’s a bit more than an asshole, though. This one’s got the power of a god and the mind of a tantrum-throwing child. You think Soldier Boy was bad?” He chuckled darkly. “This one’s got a streak of crazy you wouldn’t believe.”

“Doubt that.”

Hughie, still looking slightly wary of you, chipped in. “He’s, uh… not just strong. Homelander’s got all of Vought backing him. They protect him, market him, and turn him into the perfect hero for the public. All the while, he’s probably the most dangerous person alive.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the familiar irritation bubble up. You’d been a weapon for someone else’s whims before, a pawn in a game you hadn’t even known how to win in the end. And now, here they were, trying to sell you on another mission with vague promises of freedom. Still, something about the threat of this “Homelander” stuck with you. Maybe it was the hollow rage Butcher seemed to carry in his words, or the way MM’s shoulders tensed just at the mention of the supe’s name.

But you couldn't shake the feeling about Homelander building in your chest, the confusion making its way to your mind.

Butcher leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low growl. “This ain’t about heroics, love. We’re not out to save the world. We’re out to make sure this bastard doesn’t burn it down just because he feels like it.”

You scoffed, taking another drag of the joint before you exhaled, watching the smoke drift toward the sickly yellow ceiling. “And you think I’m going to be your secret weapon?”

Butcher shrugged, unbothered by your doubt. “We know what you can do. And frankly, I don’t think Vought or Homelander would expect it. They don’t know you’re in the game now, and that’s a hell of an advantage.”

For the first time, you let the thought settle. A weapon Vought didn’t know they’d lost. You hadn’t had a chance to choose your side before, but if you were honest, the thought of putting someone like Homelander down had a certain appeal. A weapon they’d shaped, was now in the hands of the one group that seemed hell-bent on destroying them. There was something poetic about that.

You looked over at the people still present in the room, the strange, broken people you’d been thrown in with. Hughie, nervous but oddly steadfast. MM, controlled anger simmering beneath a calm exterior. And Butcher, the man who looked like he’d die laughing at the end of the world.

You exhaled slowly, letting the thought take root while glancing back at the ceiling.

“All right, then.” You grinned, feeling the old fire flicker to life. “When do we start?”

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never @daisydark @mxltifxnd0m @lamentationsofalonelypotato @junyjunyjunyper @yvonneeeee

[olderthannetfic]

My favorite example of "space tamales" with MENA/SWANA characters was in a fic where an author described Farsi as "a dialect of Arabic." My sister in Christ, they are not even related languages. Farsi is Indo-European (like English is) and Arabic is a Semitic language. The author claimed to be "really passionate about language learning" too, but apparently not passionate enough to just look up 101 stuff about these two major world languages on Wikipedia....

Another thing I see a lot with Asian (especially outside of China/Korea/Japan), African and SWANA cultures in particular in fic is this thing where the "traditional cultural elements" means they're luddites compared to everybody else. Like space futures where the Middle-Eastern character's family are still living in desert caravans with no modern tech or the African character's are doing that in some stereotype of a rural village with no running water or electricity.

Like you'd have hoped that the internationally popular movie Black Panther would've introduced more people to the fact that Afrofuturism = thing that exists, and more broadly that you can do a high-tech, spacefaring future that is culturally non-Western and what that might look like.... and yet people still get stuck on this.

The only non-Western cultures they seem to be able to envision as futuristic are (sometimes) East Asian ones, probably because of cyberpunk and anime.

It makes me want to see a reversal of this sometime. The non-white/Western characters' homes are these super futuristic megalopolises with flying cars, but you follow the French character home and it's still like pre-revolutionary Paris with giant wigs and horses-and-carriages and no indoor plumbing for some reason.

--

A DIALECT OF ARABIC?!?!

And the space!French will 10000% have a bunch of places that make wine in a 1700s way and are extremely annoying about it.

[writingoddess1125]

Modern AU Buggy X Reader- Pt. 2

Modern!Buggy x GN Reader

Fluff and some Sadness! Headcanon

Art belongs to Kokodraw on Twitter!

For just 10 cents a day you can support a hungry Author

• You and Buggy had been going steady for 7 months at this point, and truthfully it had been lovely.

• While Buggy did struggle with his emotions and expressing a healthy love language he did care a lot for you.

• It was rather blissful- That and the Sexy time were hella fantastic between you two.

• Who knew role-playing Pirate Sex was so fun!!

• However of course not everything can be absolutely perfect-

• It all blew up when you meet Shanks, it was purely by accident and at the loathing of Buggy. It had been a popular bar if the area that Buggy wanted to take you there as a special date.

• He had explained the bar was a favorite of his former Guardian and Boss Gol D. Roger. It was a important place for him and he wanted to share it with you.

• Arriving at the bar you two went to get some food in drinks, when the sound of bikers arriving disrupted the peace.

• Laughing and more sounded as the doors opened and the bikers entered. Buggy's face souring as he saw who it was- Shanks and his damn posy.

• "Well I'll be damned! Buggy! How are you doing" The red head announced and came over to Buggy- Of course buggy Biting his head off with Words which Shanks seemed to gladly ignored.

• "Oh and who is this?" Shanks questioned as his eyes landed on you. Buggy's eyes narrowing at this-

• "I'm (Y/N).. Buggys partner" You say politely, Shanks smiling brightly at hearing this.

• You saw Buggy's face scrunch up in anger, practically seething at seeing Shanks who was so happy to meet you.

• "It's lovely to meet you (Y/N), I'm Shanks- Buggy's brother if you will. Same group home and guardian from the past. I never knew Buggy had such magnificent taste" He charmed- For most he was defiently charming and kind. However a peg of sadness hit your heart when you hear 'group home'.. like a foster care? Your eyes traveling to Buggy who looked disarmed and like a protective armor was taken from him.

• Shanks continued his charismatic chatter- You looking to your partner who looked almost afraid and shocked. Shanks reaching his single arm out to place on Buggy's shoulder- clearly to compliment him.

• Buggy quickly pulled his grasp from Shanks quickly, hatred in his eyes that made the red head freeze. Buggy grabbed your hand quickly and pulled you away "We are leaving" He grumbled. Forcing you out of the Bar and back to the car

• Buggy wasn't know to be good with his emotions- So you knew he was either holding it in or about to burst-

• "Buggy.. How do you feel?" You ask, Knowing what was to come next

• "YES IM FUCKING FINE! WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME THAT I-" He stopped himself, his driving slowing down as he clenched the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

• "Pull over right here Bugs" You say softly, He hesitates but does as you ask. Pulling over in a deserted area of the road Buggy parked formally and glared out at nothing.

• You got out of the car and waved Buggy to follow. He did, slamming the car door as he marched to you clearly ready to snap again.

• You hugged him suddently and wrapped your arms around him tightly. "I'm so sorry Buggy... It must have been hard for you to see him again.. I'm sorry"

• You felt Buggy freeze against you, Before you felt his body slack against you and he buried his face into your neck as a sob ripped through him.

• You felt him close as he hugged you tightly and cried against you, Rubbing his back softly as he babbled through his tears.

• 'How Shanks betrayed him'.

'How could Shanks let Roger's legacy die like that'

'How he could abandon him- How his brother left him on his own..'

• The more Buggy cried the more you learned. Buggy had been abandoned as a child- Left in foster care were he met Shanks. The two begins picked up by Roger's and he raised him till he died..

• All of that fear, abandonment and pain being let out in sobs against your shoulder.

• Eventhally he stopped and pulled back enough were you could see the puffiness of his eyes and overall how red he was. Kissing his cheeks gently you ran your hand over the side of his face in comfort

• Leading him back to the car you took his keys and decided to drive yourself.

- The car ride had been silent all the way home. Buggy looking too out of it to care. Deciding it was best to stay the night with Buggy.

Back at his place, you both take showers together this time as Buggy clearly needs the extra love and care so you help him clean up and he tries the same with you. Mainly washing your back so he can lean against you in the shower.

Some comfortable clothes, snacks from the snack stash and laying in bed under the best of blankets. You and Buggy cuddled against each other, The night Seeming to wash away from you both finally.

"Im... I'm sorry I yelled at you" He whispered, his head against your chest as he laid there still and unmoving. Your fingers drawing invisible patters on his skin as you listen.

"I forgive you... I know you were emotionally frustrated" You say softly, earning a amused huff from Buggy at your choice of wording.

"God you sound like a therapist.

"Well I could say Emotionally constipated- You know reeaallly backed up in there needed-" Buggy snorted a laugh and placed his hand over your face to stop you.

"Alright Alright I get it- no shit jokes in bed" He deadpanned and rolled his eyes, You sticking your tongue out and licking his hand earning a noise of disgust from Buggy. "Nothing funnier!-"

"Nasty!" He protested with a laugh and wiped his sloppered hand on the blanket, you laughing as well as the two of you laid there together. The evening lightening up and clearly lifting both your hearts.

"Thank you (Y/N).." He whispered softly, You smiling and kissing the top of his head gently.

"Of course Bugs.."

After this there was moments of silence, you shifting a bit and feeling Buggy stating up at you.

"Buggy.. do you want to talk about it" You asked, He winced slightly at your words and sighed.

"... there isn't much to talk about- I was foster got a good foster parent and worked with him till he died" Buggy said with a sigh, You pausing your fingers for a moment.

"And the guy in the bar?.." You ask softly, Buggy body shifting a bit uncomforble.

"I thought he was my brother... but he abandoned me when I needed him the most.." He said with a sad sigh, his eyes closing.

"I-It hurts to be left you know?.." His voice trembled a little "...To know I wasn't wanted once is gard enough but twice?... T-Thats why I was so worried when we met. Happy I met someone like you but what if you left me too?"

Your heart broke at hearing this and you kissed his head again and pulled him closer.

"Buggy I'd never abandon you, I swear. I love you" You tenderly scoot him up just enough to place a kiss on his lips, Fresh tears in his eyes he returned the kiss. It wasn't sensual or deeply passionate like all the others before- but soft and filled with love...

Pulling back after a few moments you wipe the freh tears from his cheek and feel him lean against your hand in need of affection.

"I love you (Y/N).." He said softly, You heart aching at the sight of the poor man like this. Holding him close like you could shield the world from his bruised heart and kiss him once more.

"I love you too Buggy... More then I can ever express"

[hometoursandotherstuff]

1990 Desert home in Pioneertown, CA. 2bds, 3ba, $2.7M.

Yeah, no. This mural would have to go.

This is nice, the kind of style I would expect of a desert home.

Or this, too. Very Zen.

But, this surprised me. They had a stone fireplace, but painted it white and sealed it up, leaving only the mantel in favor of a retro fireplace.

The style really changes in here.

Very open layout, with a large kitchen here in the corner.

Then, it changes again in the dining room, like they either couldn't decide what they wanted, or they put it together with whatever was on sale at the time.

It's only 2bds and this is the primary.

It looks like the ladder goes to a makeshift loft with extra sleep space. (I hope that's not the 3rd bd.)

Large walk-in closet.

The modern en-suite has a nice vintage reproduction tub and a large shower.

The 2nd bd. has an en-suite, also.

It's nice. Even has a display of artifacts.

Outdoors, it looks like they have a sauna.

The grounds are fixed up pretty nicely with a cactus garden.

This is great- a pool in the back.

The 2 outer buildings have murals.

Maybe this is a guest trailer.

10.10 acres of land.

Two separate entrances. Maybe one to the house and one to the land. Interesting property, but too pricey, Imo.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/5145-Curtis-Rd-Pioneertown-CA-92268/17495834_zpid/

[kmomof4]

12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

So a week or two ago, @hollyethecurious floated this idea about the 12 Recs of Christmas in order to rec your very favorite fics that new shipmates may have missed and to show authors holiday love. Of course, I literally cannot rec only twelve fics, so I've played with the rules a bit in order to rec favorite authors and fics. Sorry, not sorry, Hollye...

Now, the problem with 12 days is... it's only 12 days. So I had to severely limit myself... And, yeah, you might have guessed, I couldn't limit myself to twelve either. So you'll be getting 13 days. Sorry, not sorry, again...

All that said, the authors and fics I'll be reccing over the next twelve thirteen days are my comfort fics that live rent free in my head and that I go back and reread over and over and over and over again. The ones I couldn't live without if I were stranded on a desert island and could never read a new CS fic ever again. So I hope you enjoy this kinda drawn out fic rec list.

Since it was her idea, Hollye is the first author that I'll rec!! Several of her fics are on that desert island reading list and if you haven't read them, you should!!!

First and foremost is probably my very favorite fic of all time...

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Co-written with @winterbaby89 for my bday in '17, the premise is that Killian succeeded in getting his revenge on the crocodile moments before Regina's curse swept over the Enchanted Forest.

The Legend of Captain Killian Jones - Rated M -

CS Modern AU / CS Halloweek - Myths, Legends, and Fairytales: 

Cursed three hundred years ago to take on ghost form and haunt his family estate, Killian Jones receives a reprieve once every hundred years to take on corporeal form in order to try and break his curse.

A renowned restorationist, Emma Swan takes on the project of bringing the three hundred year old Jones Manor back to its former glory. A manor that is reportedly haunted by the notorious Captain Killian Jones. Good thing Emma doesn’t believe in ghosts.

Varcolac - Rated M - Written for the very first CSSNS back in '18. While heading home to prepare for the coming evening, Killian Jones happens upon a woman broken down on the side of the road. A woman who shifts the entire foundations of his being with just her scent. Killian Jones is a werewolf you see, and the unsuspecting lass has landed herself deep in werewolf country on the cusp of the first night of the full moon. Knowing he must get her on her way for her own safety, Killian offers to fix her vehicle, but things go awry in town when another wolf attempts to stake a claim on the stunning stranger. Now Killian must do all he can to protect the woman, Emma Swan, from a vengeful pack, all while keeping his true nature a secret from her. Turns out, Killian Jones is no ordinary werewolf.

In the Company of Demons - Rated E - After being in the wrong place at the wrong time, bounty hunter Emma Swan finds herself conscripted into working for one of Storybrooke’s most notorious crime families. Tasked with finding a rat that has infiltrated the Jones family enterprise, Emma tries to keep things just business between herself and the all-too-tempting Killian Jones. If she can unmask the rodent, she’ll receive not just a reprieve from the family, but her freedom and a hundred grand to start a new life. But what kind of life? One that exists in black and white, where there is a right way to do things and one must overcome their demons? Or the kind Killian can offer her, where one can revel in the grey areas while enjoying the company of demons?

A Harem of One Series - Rated M - Killian Jones, younger son of Prominent Turkish Businessman, Brennan Jones, meets Lady Emma during the height of the London season just a few weeks before he must head back to Constantinople to take over the family shipping business. Despondent over the fact that he had to leave the woman he loves behind, things get interesting when Brennan tries to give Killian a welcome home gift.

A Mutual Craving - Rated E - The Underworld was one of the seedier, less reputable establishments, even by black market standards. Every facet of the criminal element could be found here on any given night, engaging in all kinds of illicit activities. From the more mundane transactions, like drugs and conventional weapons, to the really shady and oftentimes dangerous dealing of occult, mystic, and poached items of a supernatural nature. Emma Swan was here for an altogether different reasons, however. She was casing the joint. Too bad all her research and intel had failed to prepare for an unusual security measure she had not planned for. One with pale skin, sharp fangs, and a thirst for blood. Her blood... and her body as well.

All of Hollye's fics are fantastic, but these are the ones that I couldn't live without and like I said, live rent free in my head 24/7. I hope you enjoy all these as much as I have!! See you tomorrow!

[man-in-jumpsuit]

Hey, it's a casting announcement!

But first, a synopsis:

Coming in 2025, Heartglass is a modern urban fantasy that centers loss, grief, and corruption in a package that feels like a fairytale. The story is divided between two main throughlines. The three living relatives of the victims of a tragic accident on a viewing platform over the Heartglass desert are attending a memorial service when a violent storm hits the city of Robeson, a storm that shouldn't be possible. In its wake, it drags a whole host of impossible things - including people turning into trees, invisible monsters, and a mysterious cowboy shaman. They are forced to navigate a world that they rapidly realize they do not truly understand.

Meanwhile, the three departed relatives of our protagonists are stuck living in an ice cream shop in Hell. They remember almost nothing about their lives, but they do know they're all bound together by some means that prevents them from separating. When the concept of a communistic scare drives them from their makeshift home, they set off to journey to Hell's only visible landmark - a spire set seemingly forever on the horizon, above which a singular white light radiates the otherwise formless gray expanse. Heartglass is a bizarre and poetic look at the relationship between life, death, and the surreal spaces in between.

Without further ado, our cast!

Starring

Ashleigh Morgan as Maya Graves

Ashleigh has been in several productions both for VO and camera acting, including Simone on the Grand Crew (NBC), Paramedic/Ashleigh on The Rehearsal (HBO), and as Mina Nihrum in Star Wars: The Old Republic.

Shannon Hobby as Piper Stewart

Shannon has been in a number of VO productions for both web series and video games, such as Hannah Daigle's Satina as the titular character, MechWarrior 5: Mercenaries as "Samantha Cole" and as "A5 Strata" in Popup Dungeon.

Adam Pilver as Mark LeBeau

Mark is an accomplished screen actor making his break into VO work in this role. His previous roles include parts on I Love That For You as "Dr. Gilberg" (Showtime), "Keith" on Shrinking (Apple TV+), and "ICE Agent Jones" on S.W.A.T (CBS)

Henry Korba-Babcock as James Gently

Henry is a voice actor, appearing on audiobooks previously, as well as appearances on The Innkeeper and SCP Un[REDACTED].

Rae Lundberg as Allan Coleman

Rae is an accomplished audio drama actor, with appearances on their show The Night Post as "Val Torres" and "The Stranger," as well as "Ran Fishercliff" on Eeler's Choice and "Jamilla Gardner" on Woe.Begone

Jamie-Lyn Markos as Mother Seraphina

Jamie-Lyn has appeared on both audio dramas and screen as a talented VO artist, as well as being an accomplished stage actor. Her latest appearances include as "Sister Genevieve" on The Love Talker and as "Sally" in Close Your Eyes.

Also Starring

Aud Andrews as Venan Kamen

Aud is a phenomenally accomplished voice actor, with a nomination for best performance at the 2023 Ambies for his performance as the titular character in The Madness of Chartrulean. Aud also appears in the forthcoming The Dope Show as "Ben."

Rae Witte as Melanie Pappaspiradakos

Rae is another phenomenal actress who has appeared in our very own What's in The Rift as "Alana Rietzkopf" and in Observable Radio and The Dex Legacy. She is also involved in forthcoming projects for Packhowl Media.

Heartglass will release its pilot episode in February in conjunction with our Kickstarter.

Can't wait to see you then!