#why is it full of brainless fuckers ?

[sonics-atelier]

It doesn't matter how much India pretends to be an advanced country, it's filled with hypocrites, apparently some vulgar joke ( I haven't seen the video ) made by a youtuber holds precedence above actual issues like the rape cases, unemployment, murder of journalists. Also need I remind yall that the asshole kid who crashed his Porsche into two students got out by writing just a 300 word essay ? Like bitch I've written more than that for my exams ???

[tdbre-up]

THIS THAT FUCK THE FAME SHIT THAT TRILLION DOLLAR GAME SHIT THAT HERE TO FUCKIN' STAY SHIT THAT FUCK UP OUT MY WAY, BITCH AGING POPULATION ECONOMIC STAGFLATION POLITICIANS JIZZIN' MISINFORMATION - PUBLIC MASTURBATION ALL ACROSS THE NATION PEOPLE BEEN FIGHTIN' INFLATION LOOTIN' PLACES WEARING POOH SHIESTY MASKS OVER THEIR FACES THE MEDIA IS SHAMELESS FODDER FOR THE BRAINLESS BIRTHRATE BEEN DECLINING MARGARET SANGER WAS A RACIST AND LADY ADA LOVELACE IS STILL WATCHING YOU THROUGH THE MATRIX HOPIN' YOU GET GHOULED ON OZEMPIC AND GET A FACELIFT THIS THAT SHIT YOU SHOULDN'T SAY SHIT BUILT IT FROM THE GROUND UP - YOU AIN'T MADE IT, YOU JUST MAKESHIFT AND AT THE AFTER-PARTY GROUPIES ASK ME "CAN I TASTE IT?" 'CAUSE HER MAN AIN'T HAVE NO SWAGGER AND HE HAD TO COPY PASTE IT I BEEN GETTIN' MONEY - YOU JUST WASTE IT ON VACATIONS THEY COULDN'T SEE IT COMING - GUESS MY HATERS NEEDED LASIC I GOT 'EM SOAKIN' IN THEIR SEAT THE SECOND THAT THE BASS HIT EVERYWHERE I GO I SEE THE SAME HOS - BITCHES BASIC SHE SAID "I DON'T GET IT, CAN YOU PLEASE BE MORE PACIFIC?" PENEAL GLAND DONE BEEN BLOCKED SO LONG THAT IT'S CALCIFIC HER BBL'S AS BIG AS HER EGO - I NEED A LIFT KIT I POINT OUT ANY FLAW SHE ASKS ME WHY I GOTTA NIT PICK THIS SHIT'S BEEN GETTIN' RIDICULOUS FUCK A BITCH - THERE'S CERTIAN SHIT YOU JUST CAN'T GET AWAY WITH PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT AIN'T MY ONLY PREREQUISITE THERE'S MORE TO LIFE THAN FUCKIN' BITCHES AND LIVING EXQUISITE LET ME COOK - I'LL MAKE YOUR LAST RAP BEEF LOOK LIKE A PICNIC I'M THE HARDEST WHITE BOY SINCE SLIM SHADY SAID MY NAME IS NOTHING'S COMING OUT YOUR LIPS - IT'S JUST A BUNCH OF GIBBERISH Y'ALL A BUNCH OF PEASANTS - CALL ME LORD - SHOUT OUT SCOTT DISICK I PAID MY DUES - YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME PAYING OFF NO SNITCHES JUDGE'S NECK IS CRAMPING UP - MY RAP SHEET LONG A LES MIS TRIAL'S BEEN ADJOURNED 'CAUSE OUT ON BAIL I WACKED THE PLAINTIFF EVEN IF I DID CONFESS, I FORGET WHERE HIS GRAVE IS REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD - THAT SHIT WAS DELICIOUS I DON'T SHIT WHERE I EAT - NO WITNESS, NO AFFIDAVITS HAD TO CUT THE LIQUOR - I GOT DIAGNOSED WITH A FIB IRREGULAR RHYTHM BUT I STILL DON'T MISS A BEAT, BITCH GOTTA GO IT SOBER WHEN I'M SCRATCHING OFF MY HIT LIST MORE HITS THAN THE BEATLES - JUST A DIFFERENT KIND OF POP SHIT GANGSTERS MOVE IN SILENCE - WHY YOU SOUND SO AFFECTATIOUS? AND WHY DO PEOPLE RANT AFTER THEY SAY "LET ME JUST SAY THIS?" I GOT MY WATCH FROM JACOB YOU RENTED YOURS WITH PAYSTUBS YOUR BITCH IS A NO LOOK DUB SHOUT OUT TO 42 DUGG I'M SMOKING ON THAT GOOD SHRUB YOU'RE TWEAKING OFF OF FAKE DRUGS AND HANGING OUT WITH FAKE THUGS YOUR BITCHES FLAKE LIKE DANDRUFF MY BITCHES FACE DOWN ASS UP MY DRIVEWAY FULL OF ROLLS TRUCKS IF THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS MY AUDEMEUR PIGUET DOES I'M FILLING UP THE TRUNK OF MY TESLA TRUCK WITH THIS BIG RUSH IF RAPPING IS AN OUTLET I'M A DOUBLE ENTENDRE PLUG IF THESE GUYS MOVIN' SLIMY I'MA POUR SOME SALT ON THESE SLUGS I TRY TO KEEP IT STOIC WHEN THEY'RE SHOWING ME THAT FAKE LOVE 'CAUSE BITCHES WILL DO ANYTHING TO SHOW THEIR EX THEY AIN'T STUCK AND RAPPERS WILL TELL ANYBODY "PUT ME ON I'M NEXT UP" AND DEALERS WILL COP REGGIE AND TELL ME THAT IT'S THE GOOD STUFF AND GANGSTERS WILL DO ANYTHING TO SHOW THE BLOCK THEY FORD TOUGH BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER BUT MUD IS THICKER THAN BLOOD SPEAK ON ONE OF MY GANG AND THAT SHIT MIGHT JUST GET YOU SLUMPT AND YOU'LL JUST END UP MISSING - AIN'T NO BODY GONNA GET DUMPED ALL MY SNIPERS SAVAGE - WOULD HAVE NEVER LET THEM TOUCH TRUMP IF I HAD A DIME FOR EVERY TIME I HAD TO THUMP CHUMPS I COULD PROBABLY BUY YOUR WHOLE CATALOG WITH THAT LUMP SUM PULL A SCOOTER BRAUN AND MAKE YOUR FANGIRLS THROW A TANTRUM BUY MYSELF SOME PROPERTY, A COUPLE WHIPS AND THEN SOME FLY A COUPLE MODELS OUT TO FONDLE ON MY SCROTUM CRACK A COUPLE BOTTLES OF ONDA AND HAVE THREESOME BUY SOME SPERMICIDE IN CASE THEY TRY TO STEAL A CONDOM NOW YOU UNDERSTAND WHY NOBODY WANTS ANY PROBLEMS? THE LAST TIME THAT A MOTHER FUCKER DID HE COULDN'T SOLVE ONE AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT HE SAID SHE SAID SHIT, SON FUCK ADDRESSING RUMORS - EVEN IF I HAD 'EM DEBUNKED Y'ALL WOULD STILL BE SPRE

[kitthepurplepotato]

New to the story? Start here! -> PART 1

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Part 6 (or alternative universe 1/3):

Bakugou Katsuki and the case of an unexpected team up mission.

(feat. Deku & Todoroki)

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Author’s note: I would recommend reading this part (and the next 2) even if you don’t know the full story! It will be super fun!

I’ll leave a quick “catch up” for you guys, so you can understand the beginning!

Also, English is my second language. Sorry for the mistakes.

Warnings: Swear words!

💥Master list💥

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Okay guys, I know I’m supposed to have Best Jeanist as the guest for this part, but I had this idea, and after all my mental struggles I actually ended up writing more Shenanigans, even tho this story is supposed to be on a long-term hiatus, so spare my life, please 😂

For those who only want to read this part: Reader is Bakugou’s assistant, an ex-hero from another country, currently out of business due to an injury. Her quirk is super powerful; she can have any quirk she can think of, even multiple at once.

You and Bakugou “hate each other” (not really), he is your boss, and you are not easy to boss around. Don’t tell anyone, but you guys care about each other quite a lot.

In the last part, you fainted due to overworking yourself and Bakugou ended up being your caretaker for the day. He “hated” every minute of it.

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“Hey, you fuckstick! We have guests, stop zoning out like a brainsless idiot!”

Ahh, it’s so good to be back in the office again!

Oh wait…

It’s certainly not.

Since the fainting incident… Bakugou is an even bigger ass than he was before. You didn’t think it’s possible, but here you are, half asleep, being shouted at for no reason, your coffee still untouched on your office desk.

You were absolutely aware of the fact that you probably won’t ever see Dynamight’s caring side ever again, but you really can’t believe how much damage this small mess-up has done to your already tense relationship.

“I thought I am a brainless idiot anyway.” You sigh into the distance, your face plastered to the desk’s shiny surface. Maybe this time, you’ll be the person faking being dead to get away from a traumatic situation; because shit you not, you are actually traumatized by this sudden personality change.

“We can come back later, Kacchan.” Comes a smooth voice from the door, which soothes your troubled soul right away. What a pleasant voice to be listening to so early in the morning! You might as well just go back to sleep now.

But wait…

Kacchan?

“The fucker had enough time to laze around last week.” Grumbles the blonde demon with zero sympathy in his harsh voice.

Honestly, Dynamight should be banned from talking between 10 PM and 10AM.

“I think you are being too harsh on her. Living half of her life with you is enough of a torture as it is.” Another pleasant voice joins the conversation, making the demon in front of you so angry he almost explodes your head with an accidental explosion coming out from his palms.

“I will blow you out of my fucking office window if you don’t shut the fuck up, you half and half bastard, who the fuck invited you anyway…”

“I did, Kacchan.” Speaks up the soothing voice again, but this time, it sounds more squeaky and less pleasant.

Okay, who are these people?!

As you slowly emerge from your half sleeping position, your eyes are met with 2 really handsome guys; one with a magnificent pine green hair, the other half crimson half white, split perfectly in the middle.

Oh, shit.

You are not the fangirl kinda gal, but you are internally screaming so loud you can barely hear your own voice; hence why you might be screaming like and absolute fool right now.

“Deku-san, Shouto-san, sorry for my terrible behavior! Welcome to the agency! Please take a seat!” You sit up as quickly as you can, bumping your knees into the thick office desk while standing up. The loud thump echoes in the otherwise silent office, but you pay no mind to the awkward situation and point at the office sofa.

This is fine.

This is salvageable.

You can do this.

“Now you can fucking behave…” Mumbles Mr. Dynamight, making the situation awkward again. Of course.

“Jealous much?” You snap back, ready for a fight.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?! Who do you think you are?”

Woah, the bitch is angry.

“I’m supposed to be your right hand, but if you keep bitching, I’ll shove my resignation up your ass and blow you up with it.” You scream back, lovely guests respectfully ignored for the time being.

“My right hand?! A pimple on my back, maybe.” Shouts the blonde back with sparkling palms, slowly getting closer. Oi.

“At least it’s not a pimple on his ass. Sounds like a compliment to me.” Speaks up Shouto, clearly not reading the room properly.

“Shou, not now…” squeaks Deku with a red face, slowly moving in front of his friend protectively.

“What did you say, Steakface?”

“I said, you two get along well.” Deadpans the half and half hero, still oblivious to the dangers of his words.

“WE DO NOT!” You both scream in the poor guys face, when another person arrives at the office door.

“SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!” The savior of the day, Kirishima appears in the office, his hardened body ready for a fight in between the four of you.

“Thank god.” Sighs the number one hero and collapses on the sofa like a sack of potatoes.

The trust these guys have in Kirishima is amazing. You were so used to seeing him every day, you kinda forgot how strong and reliable he is when it’s needed.

You have the biggest respect for the poor guy, who’s willingly by Dynamight’s side, listening to his yapping every day without being payed for it.

After a few moments of awkward silence, fresh coffee is being served to the two guests; you silently thank Kirishima for taking the burden from your shoulders today.

“So what are you guys doing here today?” You try to start a conversation while sipping your lukewarm coffee.

“Shouto and I were in the area and we thought it would be nice to see Kacchan, as he never replies to me.” Deku gives you a shy smile and damn, number one hero or not, he is absolutely adorable. You are not sure how can he break bones with that cute face.

“YOU thought it would be nice to see Katsuki. I just came along.” Deadpans Shouto with zero emotion on his face until he gets poked in the side by a scrunched faced Deku. Even his angry face is adorable. What is this guy?

And let’s not even talk about the other one… you can’t help but wonder if the handsome fella has any other expressions than the nonchalant, emotionless one he’s wearing now (and in every single interview you were forced to watch with your bestie); does he keep his facade on in the bed as well? You kinda want to investigate that.

Wow, you might need to get laid just as much as your angry boss does.

“Shouto, I told you not to say everything out loud.” Reprimands the green haired hero, reminding you of a kindergarten teacher telling of a child for eating sand.

You can’t help the giggle bubbling up in your throat as you take in the sight in front of you; the two best friends sitting on the sofa, clearly comfortable with each other, the angry sulking blonde next to them, who’s trying to hide his happiness with aggressive expressions and filth coming out of his mouth, the silent presence of Kirishima leaning on the back of the sofa, beaming at the two bickering heroes with pure adoration.

“Stop smiling like a pervert.” Mumbles Mr. Dynamight with a slight blush on his face, staring into the distance to avoid any kind of eye contact.

“How could I NOT smile, you guys are so cute together.”

“Cu…cute?!” Stutters the blonde, face red as a tomato. “What the actual fuck is cute about this?! Did your parents drop you as a child, or what? Also, this meeting is over, everyone fuck off!” Explodes Mr. Katsuki, and starts throwing everyone out of the office one by one; or at least he tries until Deku steps in front of him.

“Wait… I need to talk to you about something.” Says the greenette with a serious expression.

“I knew you fucking want something…” Bakugou rolls his eyes and puts the other hero down on the sofa. “Spill it, you goddamned nerd.” He grumbles while sitting down, ready to listen to Deku’s “annoying” rambling.

“So there is this villain group we are after…”

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“Why am I here Mr. Dynamight?!”

That’s the question of the century, to be honest.

As you look around in the area in front of you, you can see nothing but pure destruction; abandoned homes burst in flames, the sky grey and foggy from all the smoke, the pavement broken into chunks of concrete, which makes your steps wobbly and uneven.

This is a war zone. And you are standing right in the middle of it.

“Don’t look so frightened, aren’t you supposed to be a hero?” Answers the blonde with the most nasty tone possible, looking at you like you’re a piece of shit he just stepped on by accident. Well, if he can’t give you a disappointed look as his face is hiding behind a protective mask, he had to make sure his words hurt you just as well as his usual angry face does.

“Kacchan…” sighs Deku with a massive bandage on his right hand, giving you a tiny smile for reassurance. “The fight is over now, most of the villains are already behind bars. This place is supposed to be safe for heroes.“ he explains. “We lost one of the bad guys tho, so we need to investigate the area for clues.”

This still doesn’t explain why are you, a basic-ass secretary, here. You might have been a hero a few months ago, but you are far away from being “battle ready”; you can barely manage the small gigs with the amount of mana you have, as your body is still using up all your energy to heal itself.

“Your shitty quirk is perfect for this investigation. If by any chance there is a sudden fight, you can hide behind my fucking skirt and cry like a looser.” Bakugou snaps at you, while Todoroki rolls his eyes in disapproval.

Wow, that’s a new facial expression! What a day to be alive.

“Why are we friends with him again?” Deadpans the half and half hero, making the blonde angry and furious. As the two start their usual bickering, you sigh into the void and make your way into the ex-battlefield. You take a deep breath and bring out a few different quirks all at once; levitation, x-ray vision and a new one you just came up with; a sensor that tells you the last movements in the area you are looking at.

The burnt down homes in front of you are indeed abandoned but there is one still in tact, away from the burnt area, built extremely close to the forest; compared to the other parts of the battlefield, the house feels lived in, heat-wise.

“Y/N-san, wait for us!” You hear a voice behind your back, but you are too focused on your current task; finding clues about the whereabouts of the last villain stranding.

There are old footprints coming out through the back door, going into the forest; the angle of the footprints indicate…

“Katsuki, behind you!” You scream from the top of your lungs, but it’s too late; the villain jumps out from behind the tree, right next your boss.

“So this is how I fucking die…” You say, while you activate another quirk; teleportation.

In only a millisecond you end up behind the blonde; the villain’s quirk hitting you instead of Bakugou. The world suddenly shifts and you are falling into the eternal nothingness.

Why did you save the person who treats you like shit every single day?

Because your body moved on it’s own.

You are not sorry for doing it either; You can’t help but think about the way he cared for you when you were sick and about how he always brings you coffee, even when he’s being a bitch about it afterwards.

The small acts of kindness say more than the loud words; Bakugou Katsuki might be the biggest asshole in the whole word, but he doesn’t deserve to die; not like this, not right now.

“You fucking idiot!” Screams a voice you know so well, frustrated and confused. Even though you are falling into nothing, you can kinda see what’s happening in the real world; you can see Bakugou kneeling on the floor, looking at the floor where you are supposed to be, you can see Todoroki freezing the villain in one place, handcuffing him with quirk canceling handcuffs, you can see Deku, trying to calm down the crying hero… what?

Is Bakugou crying?! He must be really angry, then.

Suddenly, your back hits the ground; the sun is shining aggressively into your face, making you flinch; you can also hear some happy chatter not too far away from you.

The chatter suddenly stops and there are quick footsteps coming your way; you try to make yourself invisible out of habit, but your quirk decides to act up; you can’t feel the usual warmth of your power anymore.

“I really don’t want to support your stupid conspiracy theory, but… this woman just fell from the sky.” Mumbles a blonde nerdy guy, pushing his glasses up to see you better. His face is soft, but confused, his brows scrunched in an adorable way and it might be because of the pain, but he looks kinda familiar.

Is this… a dream?

“This is not the time for this, Kacchan. She’s hurt!” Reprimands the green haired nerd in the loudest PRIDE t-shirt you’ve ever seen. Is that eyeliner under his eyes? Cute.

Wait…

This isn’t a dream. You would not be able to come up with this shit, even if you tried.

A sudden realization dawns upon you as you stare into those warm, green eyes, dumbfounded.

“Deku?” You mumble incredulously, eyes wide, mouth open. You gawk at the blonde nerd on the other side of you; you are met with the crimson eyes you know so well.

“Bakugou Katsuki?”

This is ridiculous. This can’t be real.

This guy can’t be…

“Do you know us? Are we friends? Please, tell me you are Kacchan’s wife from the future!”

“You rewatched Back To The Future without me, you shitty nerd!” Complains the blonde, clearly offended by his traitor of a friend. “Also, are you my wife from the future? I hope you are.” The blonde sighs.

“Kacchan…” Deku pats his friend’s back apologetically, and Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t pull away.

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

-> Next Chapter!

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I’m actually so excited for this! I have so many silly ideas! Send me a comment, if you liked it 💜 Tell me your predictions about this alternate universe! :D

Taglist(Want to be added? Just ask in the comments!): @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai

@nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

[acidh2otoby]

Mini Redfield, Part 4

Chris Redfield & OC!Son

Warnings: B.O.W.s, death, violence, infection, Nicholai Zinoviev

Accidental cliff hanger btw, I'll be making a full fic on another website and (hopefully) I'll link it in a separate post when I post it.

Parts 1, 2, 3

September 29th, 1998. 2:11.am.

Evan was still sound asleep as Jill held him as the train moved down the tracks. Jill was having a hard time falling asleep, not for any particular reason other than some small paranoia about the monster chasing her to the ends of Raccoon City. She stared out the window as Mikhail and Nicholai came back into the subway car, Mikhail took a seat a little bit away from Jill and Evan as Nicholai began talking.

"You don't really think a pencil-pusher like Bard is still alive, do you?" Nicholai asked, stopping beside Mikhail.

"I have it on good authority. Why? Are you worried about teammates? Or something else?" Mikhail asked, pausing a little.

Jill wasn't fully paying attention to the conversation until now. What else could Nicholai be worried about?

"Funny how brainless zombies can ambush a platoon like that. Funny the gate was lock. Don't you think?" Mikhail asked Nicholai, tilting his head a little.

Nicholai smiled and chuckled a little before the lights went out in the subway before something caused the train to jolt. Evan woke up from it and sat up, allowing Jill to stand up.

"What was that?" Jill asked, mostly to herself.

The door to the car that held all the survivors opened to reveal that monster standing in the middle of it, the car on fire and all survivors dead. Evan's eyes widened at the destruction that it caused, how did it do that within only a few seconds?

"How is this fucker not dead yet?!" Jill yelled, running towards the car and grabbing her gun.

Mikhail grabbed Jill's arm and stopped her. "Jill, no. They're gone. Come. This way." Mikhail said, slightly moving Evan and Jill in the direction towards the other door.

Nicholai was already on the other side when Jill got close enough to the door, she tried to turn the handle but it wouldn't move.

"Nicholai, what are you doing?" Jill asked, continuing to jiggle the handle.

"It's not after me." Nicholai replied, pointing towards the monster before winking and laughing as he ran away. He had locked the door from the other side.

"Nicholai!" Jill yelled, banging on the door.

Gunshots ripped Jill's and Evan's attention away from Nicholai and to Mikhail. He was shooting at the monster before it used one of its tentacle things to stab Mikhail through the stomach, pulling him towards the monster.

Evan heard Mikhail say something before and explosion occurred, causing the train to derail. Jill grabbed Evan and held on to him before they both got knock out from being tossed around.

Jill woke up with Evan still in her arms, he was unconscious but she started to get out of the now crashed train. She pushed Evan out of the train before crawling her way out, picking him back up once she got up.

"Am I the only one who made it?" Jill asked herself, glancing back to the train.

The next room she went into was a safe room and she took a second, patching up any scratches she and Evan had before trying to get him to wake up. It didn't take long for Evan to wake up and follow behind Jill as they found a way out of the underground subway passages.

They both climbed up a ladder to find themselves basically in the dead center of Raccoon City, the clocktower. A roar was heard from where they had just come from, causing Evan to gasp and jump.

"That fucker's still alive. We can't stay here." Jill said, pulling out her gun and beginning to lead the way to a safer place.

Evan followed until they got to the bridge where the monster had jump up from the ladder and was panicking from the fire on itself, it wasn't looking at where it was going and fell into the river.

"Bitch can't even swim." Jill muttered, slowly walking on the bridge as she pulled her radio out. "Carlos! Respond!"

Evan heard Carlos say something but couldn't make out what he said.

"We didn't make it. The train derailed." Jill informed, waiting for a response. "Everybody's dead. Mikhail. Everybody. Except Evan and I." Another pause, Jill stopped walking this time. "Nicholai left us to die."

Evan heard something in the water and looked to see what it was, he couldn't see what it was exactly but saw bubbles. "Jill... there's something in the water." Evan said, moving behind Jill.

Jill glanced down at Evan before looking at the water to see what he was seeing, she also saw the bubbles. "What the fuck...?!" Jill whispered, pulling the radio away from her.

The confusion about the bubbles in the river were soon answered as the monster from before jumped at the two, it seemed to have mutated so now it looked like it was some kind of animal. Jill dodged towards the rest of the bridge and had pushed Evan in the other direction, hoping the monster would chase her.

"It's back!" Jill yelled as she tried to grab her radio but then just had to run as the monster started chasing her.

Evan sat up and stared at the scene for a second before grabbing Jill's radio and running to catch up, not wanting to get left behind. The gap in the bridge was too big for Evan to jump over, so he grabbed some of the planks Jill had used to try and keep the monster back to try and get across. It was a slow and scary walk but it had to be done. Once Evan had gotten back to Jill, the monster was dead in front of the clocktower.

Jill hugged Evan and he gave her the radio back and she tried to call Carlos again, Evan wasn't really paying attention and was more focused on the monster, he didn't trust that it was dead and stared at it.

"Hey, c'mon. We gotta get the hell outta here." Jill said, approaching the monster's body before stopping in front of it. "You go first. In case that thing wakes up, you'll be able to run and get out of here."

Evan hesitated before carefully stepping over the monster's hand and getting into the clocktower. Jill did the same but she was grabbed by the monster once she entered, she lost her balance and fell, allowing the monster to drag her towards it.

Jill shot at it a couple of times before glancing up and shooting a wire that was connected to the gate that kept it open. The gate slammed shut and decapitated the monster's arm. Jill got up and grabbed Evan's hand as she began running, only to stop when she heard Evan yell in pain and stop.

The monster had re-grown its arm and hit Evan with a needle in his arm. Evan pulled the needle out before he started coughing, his body began shaking a little as he fell to the ground. Jill immediately knelt down beside him and held him as he seemed to be having a seizure and foam started coming out of his mouth.

Jill's radio started beeping and she grabbed it, knowing it would be Carlos.

"Jill, what happened?" Carlos asked, he sounded a little short of breath.

"Carlos! Where's Nathaniel Bard?" Jill asked, yelling a little in a panic.

"He's at the Spencer Memorial Hospital. Why? What's wrong?" Carlos asked, he sounded concerned.

"I don't have time to explain right now. Just get to the hospital and I'll meet you there." Jill said quickly before putting away her radio and picking up Evan, running as fast as she could to the hospital.

[narrators-journal]

Moonlight

warning: Light depictions of violence, Aku really admires Atsushi’s tiger (idk if it comes off as super sexual, so idk might be a bit monster-fucker-y) Nothing sexual or vulgar, just him being super into watching Atsushi kill.

edit: Had to fix some glaring formatting issues, also just editted some of the choppier bits of the text :D

Akutagawa had no clue why he was out looking for a pissy tiger gijinka at 10 pm, but he was. He wasn't super thrilled about it, to say the least. However, Dazai had called and explained that Atsushi had apparently had an awful day at work or something and then changed into a weretiger in the evening, and the bandaged ADA agent wasn't sure if that was intentional or because of the full moon, so it was now up to Aku to go find the weretiger and bring him back to his apartment before he could cause any trouble.

Any good mafia member would've told the traitorous sociopath to go fuck himself with a cactus, but some weird urge had led the goth to agree to return Atsushi home for his old mentor. Had him receiving the crybaby's address from his mentor and heading out into the darkness.

It wasn't that he still wanted acknowledgment, he'd gotten his praise and acknowledgment a few weeks before. So while he still highly respected Dazai, he wasn't out clicking his tongue into alleyways and lifting himself onto rooftops at such a late hour for his praise. It definitely wasn't out of concern for Jinko, he could care less if the brainless house cat got hit by a car or stuck up a telephone pole. No, what had Akutagawa out near the hellish docks was a lingering sense of curiosity. He couldn't exactly place what he was curious about that exact moment, but he was intrigued. So, he poked around until he finally spotted a familiar flick of white and black disappearing around the corner in the slums.

When he spotted the first signs of Atsushi, Akutagawa dropped to a crouch and crept forward until he could look around the wall to see a dimly glowing white tiger nosing through a trash bag he seemed interested in. With him distracted, Aku took the chance to move towards him, bringing Rashoumon to life once he was close enough. Either the energy or the light near-instantly drew the predator's eye, but either way, he was now staring into the golden eyes of Atsushi Nakajima, or, more so, his tiger.

In that dangerous, uneasy situation, it finally clicked. He'd wanted to see this. Atsushi's full tiger form. That's why he'd agreed to go hunting for him upon Dazai's request. Not only that but staring into those predatory eyes brought a new sensation through his body. Awe.

        "Jinko," He said, doing his best to sound calm while he internally battled a storm of fear, awe, and honest wonder. "Can you understand me?" He asked it nonchalantly, his grey eyes just staying glued to the tiger's golden gaze as he circled to face the vampire of a man properly. With no answer, obviously, Aku took a deep breath to steel his nerves before trying to reason with the creature again, "Listen, I know we don't get along, you annoy the shit out of me, I'm sure you dislike me just as much. But, Dazai sent me to try and return you home, so can you please cooperate?" He asked, but the answer he got was a pretty huffy tail lash and the creature walking past him and across the street to dig through more trash. And for a moment, Akutagawa was nearly mesmerized, forgetting what he was going to say. The hunter's movements revealed the powerful muscles just beneath its snowy, striped fur, it knocked home just how dangerous this car-sized cat could be. He hasn't attacked me though, the mafioso realized, normally Jinko would maul me on sight, but his tiger isn't. Not even a growl. The realization almost made a sense of honor well up in his chest as he followed the giant cat to the next bag of garbage he seemed intent on investigating.

For a bit, the goth trailed after the large predator, his original task abandoned, mesmerized by the sight of it moving so quietly despite its lethal claws and hulking, muscular form. However, his observations were interrupted when a realization hit him like a brick to the face, Of course! He's hungry! No wonder he's been digging through stray garbage bags and whatnot, he's probably looking for meat! He slapped his hand over his face at how obvious that had been, then, he whistled to the massive feline, coughing a few times before he spoke again,           "Would you like to actually hunt, Jinko?" The snowy ears of the creature perked at the mention of hunting, perhaps he can understand me to some extent, the thought was swiftly shelved for later though, he had mentioned hunting, he had no time to ponder how conscious his nemesis was as a likely impatient and hungry tiger. "If you follow me, I can take you to someone you can hunt," he offered, once again looking into the yellow eyes of the beast, almost able to see him contemplating his offer before he suddenly moved forward.

Akutagawa's first thought was that the car-sized feline was going to eat him instead, but no. In reality, Atsushi simply headbutted him in the chest, sending him sliding on his back across the pavement, coughing and wheezing from the air leaving his weak lungs so suddenly.             "J-Jinko!" he snapped between coughs, glowing red in his annoyance, but instead of being even slightly intimidated or on-edge from the show of hostility, Atsushi just continued to headbutt or nose him, pushing him along the pavement until the choking mafioso finally managed to put his hand on the cat's striped, moon-silver forehead, Holy shit, you're so soft, and shove him back enough to let him get back to his feet. "What are you doing Jinko? Don't nuzzle up to me just because I offered you food, dumbass!" he snarled, keeping his pale hand on the cat's head as he glared at him.

The two stood there for a moment, Akutagawa's glow intensifying when Atsushi pushed against his hand and made him step back to avoid tumbling over again, all the while the choppy-haired vampire was trying to decipher what the weretiger might be doing this for. It's not likely that he wishes to eat me. If he did, he would've pounced as soon as I was on the ground...That also means he's not looking for a fight. Could it be his way of thanking me for offering to take him to hunt? Is he just trying to NUZZLE me?? His cheeks heated like stovetop burners at the thought of the elegant predator showing him, his most hated rival, affection of all things. He could handle the tiger trying to maul him, half expected it honestly, but he didn't know how to feel about Atsushi nuzzling up to him as a thank you or otherwise.

It was only when he gave another attempt at a nudge that Akutagawa got the message at long last.           "Oh! You're wanting me to take you there!" He rolled his dark gray eyes at that and pushed himself away from the weretiger, turning around with a huff and starting to lead the way. This also gave his pale cheeks the time to return to normal in the cool night air, though his heart couldn't seem to stay at a steady, calm pace. It kept jumping and thumping unpredictably with the excitement of maybe seeing Atsushi on a proper hunt.

It was sure to be a fascinating sight, to see the massive feline crouched, creeping up on an unsuspecting victim, to see his muscles bunch with so much power just before lunging at the prey. He was excited at the thought of seeing the weretiger's lethal talons tear into a person, and his jaws crunch down mercilessly on his victim's bones. The sheer power of it. The fact that he had fought someone who could tap into that primal potential. He'd looked into such an animal's eyes, he'd seen the human intelligence mingling seamlessly with the animalistic cunning. Atsushi's razor-sharp fangs had been mere inches from such a vital part of his body, and yet he'd done no malicious harm. No, not a scratch. Aku couldn't place the feeling of awe and nebulous adrenaline-pumping thrill he got from it. From being so close to a beast who could end him without hesitation or issue, and yet he hadn't. All of that strength was so beautifully control-

The goth's thoughts were interrupted by another headbutt, this time to his spine, sending him sprawling onto the pavement with an indignant squawk.           "Jinko! Wha- Are you trying to get me to speed up, or fucking kill me?!" He snapped, scrambling to his feet with a small cough and a tidal wave of humiliation for the noise he'd made on his way down, but his only response was another nudge from the beast, one he swatted away. "Oh no! I am not jogging or running ahead of you! Quit acting like an impatient toddler," he scolded, dusting himself off while the tiger huffed like said impatient toddler.

With his own grumpy huff, he continued, leading Atsushi out of the slums and into the nicer parts of town. It wasn't the rich end of Yokohama, where the homes were capped with long driveways and wrought-iron fences or had names for addresses, but it wasn't the slums. The neighborhood they ended up in, while sparse of people on the sidewalk and road, thrummed with life within the safety of the nightclubs and bars that were scattered about. It was somewhere near the outskirts of town without being too far, around there Akutagawa would find the mafia's casino and the one rival casino whose owner was as equally a customer of the mafia as much as a rival.           "Alright, you stay here for a moment. I've got to go find your food. Don't worry, they aren't good, innocent people, so you shouldn't feel a lick of shame for eating them." He promised Atsushi, now standing a few buildings down in a wide alleyway from the rival casino. "You eat the men in suits to your heart's content, in return, I'll destroy the street security cameras." The creature made a noise he assumed was agreement, so he left him in the alleyway and began prowling the street, taking out cameras as he went until he'd not only left the whole street defenseless but also found the owner of the second gambling hall.

Once he'd located the man and his goons relaxing at an outside table, smoking and drinking their booze in front of the closed shop, he used a ribbon of his coat to slither over and knick the owner with the sharpened cloth, slipping away before he realized it was more than a simple bug bite or accidental scratch. With the fresh blood now on his coat, he slunk back to Atsushi, letting the striped hunter sniff the strip of cloth thoroughly before he hoisted himself onto the roof with Rashoumon.

From his vantage point on the rooftops, the wheezy goth could follow the weretiger as he prowled down the street, following the scent of blood until he too spotted the prey at the cafe table and fell into a hunter's crouch. The goth repressed his coughing and wheezing as much as possible, paused with the cat, his grey eyes fixated on the silent animal as he inched closer to the men.

It amazed Aku that neither the owner nor his goons noticed the rabbit-soft white-and-black fur of the weretiger, part of him wanted them to spot the beast before he pounced, just so he could watch them run and panic and really see Atsushi chase down his prey. Sadly, by the time the small group had finally realized they were being stalked, it was too late. Atsushi was already on them, tearing them apart, his powerful jaws turning their muscles to pulled pork in seconds, his talons tearing into them like a hot knife through butter. They tried to run, but they didn't get far before each one was picked off with one swipe of the dark claws, or powerful jaws of the predator.

Akutagawa watched the scene from the safety of the rooftop, his heart racing with excitement, his breath quickening as he grinned like a lunatic. Not even his subsequent coughing fit could ruin the absolute thrill that zipped through his blood at the sight of such a gorgeous, efficient predator crunching on bones like they were nothing, his white fur now stained a lovely shade of red. It took a moment for him to come back from that high and realize that his lightheadedness and shortness of breath had gone from pure elation to an issue, so he had to swiftly fish his inhaler out of his pocket and pull from it, hoping it was enough to open his airways so he would avoid the hospital. He was not keen on having to explain to a doctor what exactly had gotten him so hyper.

Thankfully for the pale mafioso, his inhaler worked. So, after a moment to catch his breath and regain his composure, he brought Rashoumon to life and used it to lower himself down to the pavement again, a safe distance from Atsushi, who was contently tearing the mafia's rivals apart and devouring their flesh. With one final calming breath, he slowly walked over to the beast, not getting a glance as he approached until he was beside the car-sized feline while he chomped at a bone until it splintered.

Once he was sure Atsushi wasn't interested in him, Akutagawa crouched down and gently, tentatively put a hand against his side, feeling the soft, silky, striped fur and perfectly honed muscles just beneath his pale fingertips.          "I can see why Dazai chose you...over me..." he muttered quietly, his eyes glued to the tiger's mouth, admiring his fangs as they worked at the bones and meat of the casino owner, "You are far beyond my power level. So much more controlled, so much stronger, so much more capable than I'll ever be." It hurt to voice these shameful realizations, but for some reason, Aku felt like he wouldn't be judged by the beast, even if it did understand his words, it wouldn't shame him for his admitting to his faults.

So, he just sat beside the tiger, running his hand over the beast's side, shoulder, even along its back, from snout to as far as he could reach behind him. Just taking everything about him in. The car-sized feline didn't seem to care at all, unbothered by the admiring pets, or when Aku grabbed his back paw to flex his toes and unsheath his talons. Some part of the mafioso still reminded him, He could still eat you next, but it did nothing to dissuade the child-like curiosity that fuelled his exploration of every deadly part of the animal, from tracing his muscles, to bringing out his bloodied talons, all while Atsushi ate his fill of his prey until nothing remained save for their shredded clothing.

The pale man simply gathered those up and ran a hand through his chopped up hair,             "I guess I should take you back to your apartment now before dawn comes." he mused, judging that they had about an hour or two before the sun rose and Atsushi likely changed back to his more pathetic, weak form. Aku looked at the weretiger, watching as the beast licked his chops and shook himself off, then turned with a sigh to head to the address Dazai had given him. Atsushi followed without complaint, padding alongside the goth, much more content, it seemed.

Once Atsushi was safely back in his own home, and the clothing was burnt and disposed of, Aku went home to his personal apartment, flopping onto the bed with a half groan, half sigh. Now that he wasn't running on thrills and curiosity, he was exhausted. His only thought before passing out was Never telling anyone of this.

[rikiflowers]

first move; Levi

- warnings: fluff, cursing 

- modern au, Levi Ackerman x y/n 

- 2.1 k words 

- how to make the first move - 

“Behave, y/n. I don‘t want our family dishonoured because of you”. You internally rolled with your eyes, while a small smile is plastered on your face. It was the plainest task to do. Just smile, even if you want your lovely mother to shut up. Your parents and you were in the car on the way to some exclusive banquet, where the most influential people of the high society meet. Unfortunately, your family was a part of this, and you wished it wouldn’t be like this. Wealth is a disease, crippling through the minds of humans with a rising superior complex. They don’t need the amount of money; 

They just want to show it off, savouring the gazes and the whispers behind their back. It disgusts you. You’re looking out of the window, your mind was absent, flooding in some fantasy worlds you loved to read secretly, because your parents don’t want you wasting your time. Sometimes your mind drifts to a face you wanted to displace so bad. Your mind doesn’t let you, reminding you of him and it makes you sad. You wish you could talk to him, but you weren’t brave enough to do so.

The delicate dress you’re wearing sits tight on you, restricting your ability to breath properly, but who cares? As long as you look lovely. In your worlds, you hear your parents argue. Couldn’t they have done it before you were stuck with them? They’re shouting at each other the whole time, calling themselves names. Did they really love each other once? You saw for a moment the pure coldness in your father’s eyes and the hatred in your mother’s ones. 

You couldn’t believe they did love each other once. Quickly you looked away, instead watch how the sky is turning grey. It looks like rain is coming soon and you love it. The rain was always there, tapping on your windows, when you thought the whole world crumbles around you. Rain was your comforting friend.

“Ugh, it starts to rain. Make sure they have umbrellas.”, your mother spats at your father. He only nods. They seem to calm down, but the atmosphere stays uncomfortable. You sigh, but it goes gladly unheard. It felt like an eternity, but you’re finally there at the monstrous hotel, where the banquet is held. You already hear reporter, flashlights from cameras and so many people shouting. Your mind is already on the brink. The demanding look of your mother wasn’t helping at all and you pinch your dress, to calm yourself down, because your hands are trembling. Your father is the first and he gets out with such a fake smile, your mother follows him and then it was your time.

Instantly the flashlights dazzle your eyes, anxiety creeping inside of you. Your mind goes black, while your mother takes your arm, guiding you into the building. You force a smile to the reporter around you, until it’s plastered on your lips. “y/n.”. Your mother whispers at you. Before she could scold you, a familiar face appears on your sight. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. l/n. I am glad to see you.”. Abruptly your mother’s focus was on him and you internally thanked him. Erwin Smith, your best friend is captured in a hug from your father and your mother clinging to him. You felt sorry for him.

 “Erwin, I’m relieved to see you here.”, your father spoke to him with such fondness. When was the last time he spoke to you like that? “Mrs. l/n you look as beautiful as ever.”, Erwin says with a smile to your mother and you see her blushing. Disgusting. “Oh, Erwin darling, you’re flattering me.”, she replies. “You don’t mind that I take y/n with me?”, he asks gently. “Take her, we need to discuss business, anyway.”.

They didn’t even look at you, walking away to discuss some oh-so-important-business. They meant robbing the money out of people, milking them for their own benefit. “y/n, you look alluring tonight.”, he whispers in your ear and you want to punch him. “Thanks for the rescue, Erwin.”. He only waves. “I saw the look in your eyes, so it was the duty of a gentleman to rescue the princess.” A low chuckle escapes his lips and you really want to punch him. He was always so slick.

His hand is on your waist, softly guiding you. Here and there were important people and you smiled at them, talked about the weather, getting compliments. Always the same routine, but it was always too much for your mind. “By the way...”, he starts, and you look at him, while he passes you a glass full of prickling champagne. “he’s here too, so please don’t exaggerate.”.

You knew exactly who Erwin is referring to. His fingers quickly brush over your hands, a sign that he’s here. Your heart beats like crazy. You couldn’t face him. Not him, after you did-

“Does he hate me?”, you whisper, and he laughs. “After you drunkenly told him you would totally suck his dick, ugly cried and then threw up on him…I don’t know y/n.”. He was clearly joking but it hurts. “Fuck you.”. He chuckles again and you cringe so much because of the flashbacks of this one night. You never wanted to step out of your room again. Never. Erwin pats your head, grazing his fingertips over the lost strands of your hair, while you chunk down the champagne.

“Levi is on the other side of the room and he looks at me, like he wants to chop me alive.”

“What?”, you screech, not knowing how to act. “Why?”, was the next thing that escapes your lips. You don’t dare to look in the direction Erwin told you. His clear eyes lay on you, hovering over you, because he’s so huge. “Because he’s jealous.”, the blond man simply states, leaving you confused as ever.

You couldn’t reply, because you saw Levi making his way to the both of you and you want to run, quickly. In a matter of seconds, you’re heading in a random direction, not knowing where the hell you’re going. It was clear that many eyes followed you, but it doesn’t matter right now. You want to escape.

“fucking wait, brat.”, he called with his low voice and it sends shivers down your spine. The body of yours works on your own, running as your life depends on it, but unfortunately, you were too slow. His hand captures your wrist, while you’re climbing up the stairs. You nearly lost your balance.

A curse leaves your lips. “Where do you think you’re going?”, he spats while drag you downstairs. A fucking hell. “Let go, the people are looking.”, you breath, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “Fuck them, you wanted to run away like child.”, he replies.

You don’t say anything, looking anywhere but at him. The raven-haired man scoffs. “The last time you weren’t so shy at all and now you’re ignoring me and flirting with Erwin. I’m too old for plays.”, he coldly states, letting go of your wrist. Your mouth works faster than your brain. “I don’t fucking flirt with him you asshead.”, you return, clearly offended. “What?”, he slowly asks, and it feels threatening.

“you idiots, this is an important banquet, and everyone is here. Don’t make a damn scene.”. Erwin was now on your side, speaking quietly, because the people behind you started to whisper. You’re looking at the crowd, seeing your parents faces, which weren’t really pleased. Fuck. Levi scoffs. It never matters to him what others say. His reputation as a misfit in the high society fits him well. He doesn’t give a shit.

But sadly, you give a shit. “...About the shares Erwin, how could I invest in- “, you don’t know what you’re saying, but Erwin does. Your voice feels so strange, but you can’t stop. You need to hold on to the reputation your parents want so badly. He catches your back, replies to you in a different language, you think. Levi is quiet now, and you feel his eyes bore into you and it makes you tremble. He judges you.

You both were loud enough to be heard. The crowd of people disappears. They wanted a scandal, but you don’t give them one. You don’t need to feed these beasts. After a few minutes you sigh. “Thanks Erwin.”, you say to your best friend, who just smiles. “Tch.”, escapes from the lips of the raven-haired man and it makes your heart ache. He was about to turn around, but you call his name.  

He doesn’t react. “please.”, you whisper but he goes away. You set a step, but Erwin holds you, forming a silent ‘no’ with his lips. Levi’s head turns around. “chose y/n. Do you want to be a brainless princess, pampered in money or do you take your own path?”, he asks you and you nearly break down. The words hurt, because he was right. You freeze on spot and Erwin stands beside you, helplessly like you. He goes away.

It seems so fucking easy for him, but that wasn’t easy. You have no position to choose and yet he looks down on you. Anger gathers in you. You want to shout at him, you want to punch him and a small part in you wants to kiss the fuck out of him, sadly.

It was a matter of seconds that you decide what to do. You ran after him. After minutes of standing in the hallway, you ran, hoping to find the black-haired man. Nothing matters at this moment; you don’t even see Erwin’s soft smile. He’s proud of you, because you’re doing something on your own. You chose for yourself. You ran as your life depends on it. Your dress makes it hard to breathe and you were panting, but you ran, ignoring everything around you.

“Levi!”, you shout the moment you see the black hair before you on the street. He stops and the look on his face was priceless. The man was actually surprised to see you. His grey eyes are wide, looking at you, while you need to catch your breath. “y/n?”, he asks, unsure if this is really you. You realize it rains. Your neatly prepared hair is now ruined, sticks to your face, but it doesn’t matter. “You fucker.”, you spat at him. “You are jealous of fucking what?”, you shout again and Levi blinks.

He doesn’t know how to act. Your behaviour is new, and it takes some seconds for him. His ears turn red. “I wasn’t jealous.”, he replies weakly and he knows that. He’s just confused. His wet hair sticks to his face, while his beautiful eyes lay on you.

“Oh, come on!”, you laugh at him, your heart might burst. You are so brave; it also surprises you. “I know you like me, don’t act like you don’t.”. Your hand finds his well-defined chest and you push him. He takes your arm, holding you in place. “stop acting up, brat.”, he says, after his brain proceeded the situation, but you can’t have his shit anymore.

“fucking make me.”, you return.

Lips crash on lips with such force. Your breath stuck in your throat, while you don’t miss a second to move your hungry lips against his soft, intoxicated ones. You always wanted to kiss him, feeling them on your skin. It’s a hungry kiss. You both fight for dominance.

Levi holds your neck, not wanting to let go. It was hot. The rain mixes with your saliva, making it addicting. You want to drown into the feeling of his soft lips. It feels like magic, an unknown connection between you two. Levi sighs in satisfaction between some soft kisses and finally he pulls away, his face only millimetres away. You were both breathless, standing in the middle of the street and soaking wet. It doesn’t matter.

You smile and he returns it. “I guess you chose.”, he says, absorbing your eyes. “It was time.”, you brush your nose against his and then plaster a kiss on the tip. “I don’t want to know how long I had to wait, till you made the first move.”, you jokingly say but he wasn’t having it. “you mean shouting that you wanted to suck my cock and them throw up is a first move?”, he teased, and you punched him.

“Fuck you, Levi.”.

“I like you too, y/n.”, he returns and captures your lips again.

[cheemingwan1234]

Kombatant Profile: Cure Yell (Mortal Kombat 11 x PreCure)

Here's the best mama of PreCure, Hana Nono/ Cure Yell of Hugtto! PreCure as a guest Kombatant in Mortal Kombat 11.

Hana Nono/ Cure Yell

Note, her facial model is based off an aged down version of Tricia Helfer, Mortal Kombat X's Sonya Blade's voice actress who would voice her English voice lines. Appearance wise, she would still be the same with the addition of a waist holster at the left side of her waist to hold her Melody Sword

Bio:

In her teen years, Hana Nono had a lot of adventures. Starting off with encountering Hariham Harry and Hugtan; survivors of a future frozen in time , she was thrust into the battles between the PreCures and Cirasu Corporation. Fighting as the Pretty Cure of High Spirts; Cure Yell, she led her team in the battles against Cirasu Corporation. In the battles that followed, she learnt about Hugtan's origin as Cure Tomorrow and her connection to both her and George Kurai ; the leader of Cirasu Corporation as her mother and his wife respectively . Eventually, they managed to restore the future that Hariham Harry and Hugtan came from and they returned to their normal lives.

It's been several years since the Hugtto! PreCures' battles and Hana Nono is living a normal life as an adult running a flower shop in Hagukumi City together with her husband; George Kurai and her daughter, Hagumi (aka Hugtan). All was well until one day, a mysterious woman appeared in her shop, identified herself as Kronika and kidnapped both her husband and her daughter and worse, turned her hometown into ruins . Hana was in despair until her Mirai Crystals and PreHeart shone brightly. Knowing that her daughter and husband were still alive, Hana inserted her transformation Mirai Crystal into her PreHeart and transformed into Cure Yell once more. Stowing away on a Special Forces expedition group, she travelled to Outworld to free her beloved from Kronika's grasp and restore her hometown.

Select Screen Animation: Cure Yell converts her cuffs into pom-poms then thrusts her arms into the air. She then converts them back into her cuffs and pulls out her Melody Sword from it's waist holster from the left side of her waist.

Gear: Melody Sword, Cuffs and Mirai Crystals.

Variations:

Hooray! Hooray! (Focuses on hand to hand combat and heart blasts)

High-Spirited (Melody Sword focused).

Criasu's Assets (Gains the ability to summon an Oshimada as an assist)

Johnny Cage Announcer Nicknames: "Yell", "Hooray! Hooray!", "Cheerleader" , "Cure Mom" , "Pink-haired Sonya" and "Mechokku!"

Skins: Default (based on her appearance in Hugtto! PreCure), Cheerful (Based on her Cheerful Style), Schoolgirl (based on her school uniform) , Ex (Mortal Kombat X Sonya themed skin)

Intros:

Cheering on Everyone: Cure Yell does her end of transformation pose.

Bitter Memories: Cure Yell looks at a photo of herself, George and Hagumi in happier times before putting it away.

Tact Inspection: Cure Yell inspects her Melody Sword before noticing the opponent.

Shopping List: Cure Yell inspects a long shopping list before noticing the opponent.

Outros:

Hooray! Yell!: Cure Yell does a cheerleading routine, spelling out H, P and C in semaphore flag signalling with her pom-poms.

Heart For You! Cure Heart pulls out her PreHeart, then uses it together with her pom-poms to fire a blast to the camera.

Selfie: Cure Yell takes a selfie with her PreHeart.

Happy Memories: Cure Yell pulls out a photo from her PreHeart pouch and looks at a photo of herself in her younger years together with her team in her hands.

Throws:

Hugyuu!: Cure Yell lifts and hugs the opponent in a bear hug powerful enough to break her opponent's spine. She then places the opponent back onto the ground, then punches them in the face to send the opponent sprawling onto the ground.

Yell In Your Face: Cure Yell grabs the opponent and performs Flower Shoot point blank in the opponent's face, knocking the opponent to the ground.

Fatal Blow: Pointy End Up.

Cure Yell fires off a blast using her Heart For You attack to stun the opponent, then executes a series of rapid fire punches on various parts of the opponent's body, bloodying and dazing them even further. She then removes her Melody Sword and places it on the ground such that the diamond tip is pointing up, then grabs and piledrives the opponent head-first onto her Melody Sword.

Fatalities:

Fatality 1: Heart Faced:

Cure Yell uses her Melody Sword to disembowel the opponent. As the opponent is trying to scoop his/her guts back in, Cure Yell gets behind the opponent and uses a point blank Heart For You! blast to blow off the opponent's face from the back of their head.

Fatality 2: Rip For You!:

Cure Yell uses Heart For You to fire off a blast right into the chest of the opponent, searing a heart shaped hole into the opponent's chest and exposing their spinal cord. She then grabs the opponent's spine and breaks it into two. She then hoists the opponent over her head. The opponent only has time to scream (usually word-lessely in horror, though Kollector would scream that he wants to hand in his resignation for his job), before Cure Yell uses the snapped-in-two spine as leverage to rip the opponent in half.

Brutalities:

1: The Klassic: Cure Yell uppercuts the opponent's head off.

2: Heart-ache!: Cure Yell fires off a blast from Heart For You that blows a heart shaped hole in the opponents's torso.

3: Mother's Fury!: Cure Yell kicks the opponent to the ground , jumps on their chest, then proceeds to beat the ever-living shit out of the opponent. She then delivers a overhead two handed punch that explodes the opponent's head.*

*Secret Brutality Variation: Against Cetrion, Kronika (if edited to allow Brutalities to be performed onto her) and Geras, Cure Yell actually yells out obscenities and insults against them while beating their faces in such as "You fucker!" , "You asshole!", "You'll die for kidnapping George and Hagumi!" and "I'll make sure this leaves a mark on you in every timeline!". Why? Because Cure Yell knows that Kronika and her servants were responsible for kidnapping her husband and daughter, so she has a massive bone to pick against them.

4: Literal Minded Cure Yell : Cure Yell clears her throat and proceeds to let out a scream that scares the muscles off the opponent and causes it to run away, leaving behind the skin of the opponent which collapses into a heap.

5: Should Have Kept The PreCure Sword: Cure Yell stabs the opponent in the abdomen with the Melody Sword, causing them to kneel. She then rips out the Melody Sword then projects an energy blade from the Melody Sword and uses it to behead the opponent.

6: Traum's Kompliments: Cure Yell pulls out a Oshimaida doll (yes, it's the same doll that Dr. Traum uses to summon a Oshimaida) and presses the button of the doll to cause an Oshimaida to drop in from offscreen and eat the opponent.

7: Flower Splatter: Cure Yell uses Flower Shoot to hit the opponent with a delayed reaction that causes the opponent's upper torso to explode and a bouquet of flowers to grow from the opponent's lower torso and legs.

8: Pom and Brainless: Cure Yell punches open a hole in the top of the opponent's head, removes one of her cuffs and inserts it into the newly created hole. She then wills the pom-pom to expand to it's full size, exploding the head of the opponent.

9: Flower Shoot!: Cure Yell fires off Flower Shoot from her Melody Sword to take off the opponent's legs. As the opponent tries to crawl towards Cure Yell, Cure Yell stomps on their head, crushing the opponent's head with the heel of her boot.

Brutality Taunts:

Give Me an F, Give Me a U! : Cure Yell turns her cuffs into pom-poms, then uses her pom-poms to semaphore signal the letters F and U*.

* Yes, Cure Yell is saying the internet abbreviation for 'Fuck You' with her arm motions.

List Check: Cure Yell pulls out a shopping list and uses her PreHeart to check off the list.

Brutality/ Round Win Lines:

"Hagumi, George, I will find you!"

"Mama will find you, Hagumi!"

"You will not harm my family!"

"You will not freeze our futures."

"Harm my family and friends and you will die!"

"Retribution is long due for what you and Kronika did to my family!" (Against Geras or Cetrion)

"You will not stand in my way of my search!"

"Harm my family, and you will pay!"

"Ever heard of the term, 'mama bear'?"

Friendship: Flower Bouquet:

Cure Yell uses Flower Shoot to create a field of flowers on the ground. She then presents a bouquet of roses to the camera after pulling them out from her PreHeart pouch.

Sample Interaction Lines (With Scorpion, Sonya Blade and Sindel )

"I've heard your loved ones were kidnapped."

"Indeed. I'm looking for them."

"That's comforting for you, my loved ones are dead!"

"So, you're a mother?"

"Yes, but you don't have to deal with your daughter being regressed into a baby."

"Indeed, I don't want that to happen to Cassie."

(If Sonya has the Cure Yell costume equipped)

"I did not know you are a fan of Pretty Cure!"

"Every mother has her secrets."

"And you have the same taste in costumes as well."

" Such a foolish mother."

"Sindel, you should have the same feelings as me towards your own daughter!"

"Kitana is not worthy of my care, Hana!"

Tower Ending:

"With Kronika defeated, Geras and Cetrion were horrified at the goals of Kronika when I enlightened them on what Kronika's aims actually were . They offered to feed themselves to the Hourglass to give it the capacity to run itself and atone for their crimes. But I stopped them and provided themselves a more productive alternative. In exchange for them releasing George and Hagumi and working with the Elder Gods to defend Earthrealm , I used one of my Mirai Crystals to grant the Hourglass the capacity to run itself, restoring my hometown and the Elder Gods that Kronika ordered executed in the process. Geras and Cetrion departed on good terms with me and I was reunited with my family.

"However, this restoration had a side effect. Initially unknown to me, Quan Chi has returned from the dead. One day, he kidnapped Hagumi right in front of me. I was furious and heard of Hanzo 'Scorpion' Hasashi , the leader of the Shirai Ryu ninja clan who has suffered most from the machinations of Quan Chi . I assembled my PreCure team and teamed up with the Shirai Ryu to hunt Quan Chi down with our combined resources . What does Quan Chi want by kidnapping my daughter? I do not know. But when we corner him, I will show him that the Netherrealm hath no fury than a mother scorned!"

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 76-79

Chapter 76

Andi has a nice little poetic nightmare. It’s irrelevant. The next morning has the girls preparing for the ball, complete with dresses and makeup.

Some things to note include Lira saying that in Adhiran religion (which is global, I guess), one has to mourn for three days before “letting” the souls of the dead pass on into ... everything.

Andi tries to say that it’ll take time to heal from it all, but Lira is having none of it.

“It will take time to move past what happened on Adhira,” Andi started, but Lira held up a hand.

“My three days of mourning have passed. Lon’s and my aunt’s, too. Now we, and the others who lost loved ones during the attack, must give the lost spirits to the stars, to the trees, to the wind.”

Which basically means that she’s done feeling bad about the unexpected and brutal attack on her home planet, so that’s convenient. Well, if one of our main characters doesn’t care about her people getting senselessly murdered, then why should we?

She also lets us know that her aunt has fixed up the Marauder and brought it here, because of course. Lira wants to arrange for Lon to be transferred to the Marauder, and though she has a logical reason for it (taking him home personally), it’s only a setup so we know why he’s on there at the end of the book when Andi’s bleeding out and needs a universal donor.

Spoilers, I guess.

Andi’s mother, Glorya, intercepts Andi as she tries to leave her crew to their makeover montages, just so we can move into a scene where her mom is brushing her hair and babbling on about gossip and vapid high society stuff.

But Andi, of course, gets lost in a flashback that’s so amateurishly written it’s honestly embarrassing and only highlights Shinsay’s helpless reliance on flashbacks as a storytelling device.

Observe:

Her words faded away as memories took their place. Andi lost herself to them.

The whole flashback is written in italics for some inexplicable reason, even though it would’ve been fine as just regular text since we’re clearly told what’s happening now and what’s a memory.

Also, there’s one bit where the memory “fast-forwards” to a different one. Shinsay, this isn’t a fucking movie. This isn’t a screenplay. What the fuck are you DOING.

The flashback and the mother’s inane babbling are all there to illustrate how vapid and brainless Glorya is and how she only ever cared about her status and not about her kid. Glorya pretends that everything is back to the way it was but Andi curses her out for abandoning her when she needed them most and how “the way it was” was actually always shit.

I mean it’s fine. It’s all right. I see what they’re going for, it’s melodramatic as all fuck but it works for what they’re trying to do? I can see this as being a realistic way for an emotionally neglectful family to look like. I wish it was more nuanced and wasn’t just shoe-horned in here (Glorya doesn’t show up before or after this bit, this is the only time she’s ever present or even mentioned in this book in any meaningful capacity) for the sake of making Andi’s friends look better and for her to not have anything that anchors her to Arcardius, but like, I won’t say this isn’t realistic.

And then Shinsay can’t stop themselves and it’s back to silly time:

“Really, Androma...” 

[...]

“That is not my name,” Andi whispered. She allowed the darkness to come up into her voice, the mask of shadow and steel to sweep across her face. “My name is the Bloody Baroness. And if you or Commander Racella ever so much as utter a single word toward me or my crew again, I will personally strip the skin from your body and wave it like a flag from my starship.”

Glorya let out a soft squeak. Andi snarled with all of her teeth.

Guys I can’t breathe this is too fucking funny. And not in a good “woo vindication!” sort of way, but in a “they really put this right after an emotional confrontation about parental emotional neglect/abuse huh?” way. They really thought this was ... badass? Revenge? Andi, sweetie, you’re, like, traumatized? Presumably? I can’t really tell. But maybe get some therapy?

Do Shinsay think this is somehow a win and that Andi’s threat means she’s fully released from the hurt and pain her parents have caused her through their neglect? It’s honestly written as if Andi just confronted her mother and her own hopes of coming back to her family in this one short scene, and then upon realizing her parents never loved her, she scares her mom a little and then is all smug and satisfied at the end.

That ain’t how it works, darlings.

Then the annoying Marketable Space Pet runs in and starts biting Glorya’s toes and she runs away shrieking like a defeated Disney villain.

Way to undercut your own drama, Shinsay.

The chapter ends with Andi thinking about how her crew is her True Family for the bajillionth time. Because we’re all idiots and Shinsay wants us to remember that.

Chapter 77

It’s the evening of the ball and Andi thinks about how she missed Bavista, which is apparently your generic coming-of-age ball held at Arcardius for every 16-year-old. I’m guessing it’s a yearly thing? The book never clarifies. Not sure why the fuck it’s here tbh.

Actually, it’s a pretty good demonstration of how the worldbuilding in this book is presented so here, have at thee:

She could still remember seeing the otherworldly dresses and suits float by her on the feeds as she watched the girls and boys glide into the A’Vianna House in the Glass Sector. They seemed light as air, full of pride, bursting at the seams with excitement. Once inside, they would be greeted by members of the Priest Guild, who would award each young person three items.

The first was a vial of water from the Northern Ocean, symbolizing strength. For growth, they accepted a single leaf from the oldest tree on Arcardius, known as The Mother, which was said to have been planted when the Ancients first arrived. Lastly, they were given a single floating pebble, no larger than a child’s fingernail, chiseled from the very gravarock where the Cortas estate was. It represented the wisdom of rising above.

Is this relevant to anything? Does this help you understand this world or its inhabitants? Does it tell you anything of the culture of Arcardius or its youth and what’s expected of them? No? It’s just a really generic list of things thrown together using Mystical Proper Nouns as glue? Weeell heeell.

Also what does “it represented the wisdom of rising above” mean? This is utterly generic and means fuck-all, that’s what.

Anyway, Andi’s admiring herself in the mirror. Her dress is very sexy, trust me, I can’t be bothered to include it so just imagine your favorite My Immortal outfit description. It does include sword holsters at the back, which are Andi’s favorite part, because she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no man. She never actually uses them or brings the swords to the ball so ... Idk what the point of this was.

We also get some shit about how Andi actually LOVES dresses and being pretty but she never admitted it to anyone. But don’t you worry, this badass space criminal LOVES all things girly, because that’s feminism! Can someone check in on Shinsay? I’m not sure they’re getting enough air with their heads so far up Sarah J Maas’ asshole.

Admitting to herself that she looked pretty was something Andi kept private. She didn’t want to give her crew the satisfaction of knowing her true thoughts about fashion. How even though she was a fierce, hardened criminal, she could still appreciate the joy of a beautiful, impractical ball gown.

Huh. And here I thought they were your family. That’s weird that you’d keep this information from them, especially considering all of them seemed pretty excited to be prettied up in the last chapter. I guess they’d really just haaate the idea of sharing this joy with their captain, huh? Why aren’t you admitting this to them, Andi?

You’re saying shit about how “even though” you’re a hardened criminal, you can “still” appreciate beautiful gowns, like those two are somehow contradictory. Are you, mayhaps, ashamed of having this traditionally girly interest? Hmm! Interesting. Why could that be, I wonder? Why would having traditionally feminine interests or even caring about one’s appearance be seen as something inherently shameful or embarrassing, as inherently contradictory to being fierce and “hardened?”

This is all just so *clenches fist* feminist.

Forreal though, somehow Shinsay managed to take their entire made up GALAXY and make it subtly and not-so-subtly sexist. Good job, morons. Really girlbossed that one, huh?

The only bit I like about this whole mess is this:

The dressmaker had also accented her gown with a sparkling necklace full of jewels that Andi didn’t plan on giving back.

This is the one and only space pirate-y thing Andi does -- sorry, considers doing -- in the whole book and honestly could’ve been used to build her character more, but it’s just a one-off joke here. Wasted.

Valen comes to fetch her and we get some subtle foreshadowing.

“Valen the Resurrected.”

He stopped to look at her, brows raised. “What?”

She shrugged. “It’s what the press is calling you in all the feeds.” Valen let out a deep chuckle.

[...]

“Something tells me things are about to change for the better,” he said. “I’m ready to see it all happen.”

Andi wondered what he would do now that he was home with a whole planet at his disposal.

He deserved to have some fun.

Is it bad that I’m rooting for Valen to destroy everything? And this isn’t my villain-fucker coming out, I just want this poor bastard to absolutely annihilate Andi and her gang of acolytes.

Chapter 78

Andi and Valen arrive at the ball. It’s all very pretty and space-y and aesthetic. There’s a bunch of aliens everywhere. Andi sees a woman with funky eyes and assumes it’s a body mod, because I guess she knows the genetic characteristics of every species by heart and can tell when something is real or not.

An old classmate of theirs comes up to talk to Valen and congratulate him on being alive, then Andi reminds him of who she is just to be a smug asshole and the guy fucks off in a panic. She’s just so cool and badass, you guys.

Then it’s time for Valen and Andi to dance, and of course General Cortas looks like he’s about to lose his marbles because these darn kids! >:(

The chapter ends on Andi noticing Dex pouting in the distance.

“Relax,” Andi whispered. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

She flashed him a wicked grin as the music began.

And as Valen spun her into the first move of the dance, Andi saw Dex standing on the fringes of the crowd, an expression of longing clear on his face.

Chapter 79

This chapter is exactly 298 words of Dex moping around about how he’s actually not over Andi at all when he thought he’d done such a good job of repressing his feelings, and how he should be the one dancing with Andi instead of Valen. If you’re surprised, you’re clinically dead.

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 19 - In Which Jack and Charles Secure Planning Permission and Max Micromanages

Mary had liked several of Charles's photographs of Jack and the workroom and the half-finished fashions enough to post them to Instagram. And she'd liked the photograph of Charles all decked out in silk and countless jewels enough to use it as the title page for a more formal press announcement of the upcoming fashion show. The word “DECADENCE” is emblazoned across a glossy version of the picture in a stark, masculine font.

And then, in slightly smaller font underneath: Jack Rackham – Fall/Winter 2009.

His name. His name. Not quite in lights, but there, for everyone to see. For everyone to know that he is the one who did this. That these accomplishments are his.

Not that he did it all himself, of course. Mary's role is obvious. Christine is indispensable. And it's Charles's face on the cover of his press release.

The may have called Charles his muse as a joke. It seems like the sort of thing a flamboyant fashion designer would call his favorite booty call. Just the right side of pretentiously obfuscating for the older guard who might not be ready for the party boy persona they've both adopted.

But the honest truth is that Jack's come to rely on Charles in a way he hadn't quite expected for this con.

It's not exactly in Chaz's wheelhouse, is the thing. But he's worked hard to learn skills outside bashing skulls, just as Anne has.

Not that he doesn't do plenty of that as well. And gotten some good information out of it. But he's more than the street thug he'd been for so long. And Jack can't say he misses those days – not when the days they have now are so much easier.

So much less full of fear and strife and poverty.

It's almost like an extended holiday, the way they live now. All getting to pretend they're rich and soft and genteel. Getting to walk among the special, the exalted, the beautiful people. The ones with titles and money and pedigree. The ones with names that mean something.

Well now Jack's name means something too.

And not through an accident of birth. Through cleverness and planning. Through luck, of course, but also through plain hard work. Something those gilded, pampered elite would never understand.

--

Charles has been given a slight reprieve in lugging armoires around. The old Hennessy house has been emptied of all the furniture, finally, and Mary's light rigs have all been installed. All the walls repainted and all the pictures of grand empty rooms taken.

But then Max sees the reaction the upper crust have to those pictures. All the ruined grandeur on display, just to be knocked over to make way for progress, for new ways of making money – they fucking love it, the rich brainless investment fuckers.

So now Max wants to take advantage of that greed she's awoken in the elitist twits in thousand pound suites. That desire for wealth, for faded grandeur, for a past of riches and glory and conquest. But brought into the future. Brought into the now. So they can pretend England isn't just some pretentious backwater with delusions of grandeur, with visions of glory (that was never all that glorious) long past.

So Mary decides, yeah, it would be a fucking great idea to do a little promotional photo shoot of all the models for Jack's fashion show in the house, before it gets demolished. Jewel bright clothes, sparkling gems, enough gold to sink a fucking warship, all juxtaposed – that'd been the word she'd used - all fucking juxtaposed against the backdrop of the ruined townhouse.

So Jack'd worked like a fiend to get the clothes ready. And Charles's break is over.

Now he gets to lug around garment bags and makeup trunks and jewelry chests and even more light rigs – all to be placed precisely where Mary dictates, and moved with the changing light or her changing whims. All that shit's fucking heavy. And Anne's no help this time because she's been set to wrangling all the models and making sure they're properly primped and preened and posed for the photos. All under Max and Mary's watchful eyes.

Cuz Max has apparently decided that she wants to have her hand in things personally.

Not that she hadn't kept things well in hand with Jack's other fashion show – finding the models, organizing the behind the scenes contracts. Setting Idelle up with Featherstone.

But now she's actually telling Mary how she wants the pictures to look. Or more specifically, that she wants some big fancy painting in all the shots. Not the whole paining, though. Just pieces of it. Enough to tantalize, to excite, but not to show the goods.

There's even a picture where the models are holding it at the front of the shot, but it's covered by a lacy black cloth, all except for one corner, which pokes out like a whore's ankle in some repressed 1700s pin up.

Charles thinks the whole thing's fucking unnecessary. Who gives a shit if there's a painting showing too much or too little in the shot? Why does he have to be the one to move it over and over again – sometimes millimeter by fucking millimeter – until Max deems it just right? He's got other things to do with his day, thank you very fucking much.

Like pretending to be Jack's ditsy muscular boytoy, and all the hours in the gym and gossiping by the pool that takes to maintain. He better get another fucking break when all this shit is over.

--

With investors sniffing at Max's skirts like rabid jackals, ready to rip each other apart for a chance at the Hennessy townhouse, Jack broaches the topic of planning permission to Councilor Featherstone. And he does it over dinner in a private room at a restaurant where the esteemed councilor could never have gotten a reservation – and especially not on such short notice. Because for all that he has power. For all that he attends all the right clubs – the same clubs Jack himself attends. Well, the councilor's a bit of a social outcast. A bit of a dud in the personality department.

Whereas Jack is all glib charm and meaningless flirtation. Jack knows how to play the sort of high society games that result in the private table on nearly no notice that the councilor is currently enjoying.

What is it they say? Always come to the negotiating table with the outcome already certain? Well, Jack's doing his damnedest to stack the deck in his favor. And if a little show of how well connected he is, how much more he belongs in this world of high-society fops and casual displays of obscene wealth, is what it takes to get Max her planning permission, then Jack will wine and dine Featherstone at the goddamn Ritz if he has to.

Although the slightly less-upscale, though no less entrenched in British upper-class hegemony, restaurant he's chosen for tonight seems to be doing the trick well enough. Councilor Featherstone is looking around with ill disguised awe.

If he were slightly more uncouth, Jack imagines his jaw would be actually agape at all the gilt and velvet and fine linens and sparkling crystal. As it is, it's more than obvious Jack has introduced him to a style of dining out that he's never experienced before. Perfect.

The entire point of this little excursion is to underline to Councilor Featherstone what a... fruitful... relationship they can have. All Jack's connections and wealth at the councilor's fingertips – and all he needs to do is pass the occasional planning permission for a project that otherwise may have languished in limbo for years. And to that end, Charles is doing his considerable best to bring the conversation around to where Jack needs it to go, namely planning permission for the Hennessy house.

A conversation that demonstrates that Charles has become considerably more subtle than Jack ever believed him capable of.

And perhaps that is an oversight on Jack's own part. Him never deigning to look past Charles's rough and unpolished exterior to hidden – really very well hidden – depths. Known for a straightforward style of smash and grab, Charles has really developed a mind for strategy of late. And something of a silver tongue, though it doesn't come close to rivaling Jack's own.

At any rate, Jack appreciates his efforts. Lord Hamilton may have been willing to come right out and ask for little favors, so assured of his power and his place in the London hierarchy he would eschew subtlety entirely - but there's such a thing as being too forward.

Jack finds that method rather gauche. And the last thing he wishes to be is gauche.

Plus, Jack would rather have the councilor's regard – his friendship, even if it is a tad one-sided – than his fear purchased compliance. Because fear may breed deference in the short term, but it leads to chafing at the yoke in the long run. And Councilor Featherstone didn't get to where he is today by being a complete pushover.

So Charles is sitting in this opulent private dining room, as the councilor sips champagne and enjoys expensive hors d'oeuvres, chatting to Idelle about a spa he went to with some of his “friends” from the health club. Which isn't even a lie. Charles had in fact attended a quote girls day unquote at an upscale spa courtesy of one of the women who lounges poolside and looks over her designer sunglasses at the tanned skin Charles is so very unconcerned with putting on display.

The fact that it was a nude spa may have had something to do with Charles being invited. But it sounds as if Charles had a nice enough time. Or at least he's talking it up to Idelle, who makes suitable sounds of impressed jealousy as the story unfolds. Commenting that she'd rather like to be taken to something like that – perhaps on a date?

Personally, Jack would pay enormous amounts of money to not see Featherstone in the alltogether – but Idelle is a consummate professional and lets no sign of displeasure at the idea show. Maybe Max ought to consider giving her a raise. Jack resolves to raise the issue once planning permission has been secured. Speaking of -

“The only thing,” Charles says, voice measured to ensure that Councilor Featherstone is paying the utmost attention. “The only thing I didn't particularly care for was how crowded the spa was.”

“Indeed,” Jack butts in, “that hardly sounds relaxing. Being surrounded by all the teeming masses.”

“Oh, the actual spa part was lovely. So relaxing after a long, hectic week...”

Jack can see Councilor Featherstone's scoffing disbelief that Charles could have anything resembling a hectic week – his schedule filled with nothing more than lounging in various decorous poses on various expensive surfaces, as far as the councilor is aware. But he has some long, hectic weeks at work...

“But as soon as you're back in the more public areas, all that work at relaxing and destressing – gone!”

“Oh, how terrible!” Idelle exclaims with just the right amount of dramatic disbelief.

“And it was supposed to be one of the more exclusive spa packages as well. You think money would go a bit further nowadays, is all,” Charles finishes. And now all that's left to do is set up the pitch...

Right on cue, Idelle chimes in with, “Too bad there isn't a more private spa. Someplace intimate.” The last is directed at Featherstone, who's blushing and looks primed for the sell.

“Funny you should mention that,” Jack says causally – but not too casually. That's the key. They have to think you're playing them a little so they won't look too deeply at how you're actually playing them. “I happen to have a friend who's looking to start up a little boutique hotel spa. You know where the Hennessy townhouse is?”

The councilor nods, although Jack doubts he was ever actually invited there.

“Well, my friend got it for a song. They were looking to move to warmer climes, you know. And she got an excellent deal for the whole package – house and furniture and everything. Which turned out to be a good thing! The whole place was falling apart, if you can believe. Just completely structurally unsound.” Jack says the last part as if it's the most boring thing in the world.

“So anyway, she's looking to rebuild. Plenty of investors already lined up around the block, of course. And there's mixed zoning, you know. And she doesn't exactly need yet another house to sit empty and eat up heating costs. Plus the cleaning service – you know how much they'll gauge you.”

Pretending that the councilor has a maid service – when Jack knows for certain he doesn't, which is why he doesn't entertain at home much – is another stab at just how different he is from the upper crust.

“Yes, of course,” Councilor Featherstone responds. “They'll take an arm and a leg.”

“So she came on the idea of the hotel and spa. For the country set, or celebrities, or whoever wants a little privacy when visiting the city.” Rich men with mistresses. Government officials with less than acceptable girlfriends. Whoever.

“That sounds lovely,” Idelle chimes in. “Perhaps we might do a spa day there sometime, dear.”

“Oh. Oh I don't know,” the councilor responds, obviously thinking of the enormous price tag attached to something like that.

“We could do a double date,” Charles gushes. “Oh, Idelle! What an excellent idea!”

“Oh, I'm certain I could arrange something like that,” Jack is quick to assure the increasingly panicked looking councilor. “Given that the proposal comes from a close personal friend. I imagine I can talk her into pulling a few strings with whoever purchases the building so we get first crack at it.”

A delicate pause. Calculated to be just enough to let the councilor experience euphoric relief that his problem has been solved - that Jack has been the one to solve it – before bringing it all crashing down.

“Of course, that's assuming the project moves forward any time in the next decade. You of all people know what London real estate is like.”

“You said the lot was zoned for mixed use?” Featherstone asks desperately. He's so close to giving Idelle her heart's desire of the current moment and he can see it slipping away.

Jack nods.

He's not even lying. There are several businesses on that street dating to just after the Great London Fire that necessitate the designation. Plus one unbearably posh cupcake bakery charging upwards of a tenner for a single cupcake.

“Well, then it should be no problem. I can even take a look at everything personally - just to make sure it's all in order, of course.”

“Oh, darling!” Idelle exclaims rapturously. “Would you?”

“Of course, dear. Anything for you.”

Perfect.

Charles grins at Jack, wolflike. And then steers the conversation to other idle gossip about the rich and famous.

Best not to let the councilor dwell too long on what just happened.

[daanshoor]

It was an interesting life, certainly. Karna didn’t mind it, though some things could’ve been done better in hindsight.

“You shouldn’t cause so much trouble.” Radha chides as she attempted to arrange her child’s hair and clothes into something presentable, sighing over spatters of dirt and the odd blade of grass. “Your father is coming home today! What would he think if he saw you running about with the boys when you’ve only just finished your chores?”

Adhiratha would be disappointed, of course. Vasusena knew that but kept silent, bowing their head. It was not the first lecture they’d endured after being found out. Doubtful it would be the last.

“I wasn’t misbehaving.” Vasusena remarked sullenly. “I can clean up quickly. The chores are done, and father is not home just yet.”

“But you’ve made a mess of yourself.” Radha countered, exasperated; taking Vasusena by the shoulders and giving him a shake. “What if your father had needed to take you to the palace? You’re to work with him, Vasusena. If you arrived so dirty it would embarrass him.”

I would not embarrass him, he nearly says. But that would be the wrong answer and it would only upset his mother further.

“I am sorry.” They mumble instead. Not for playing with others. But for the worry on Radha’s brow and the tiredness Vasusena knows will be in Adhiratha’s eyes when he hears? They could be sorry for that. “I will conduct myself properly, from now on.”

“Thank you.” Radha deflates, most of her irritation gone. Vasusena says nothing more on the matter.

-

“I haven’t seen you before.” Duryodhana is tenacious with what catches his interest, disregarding propriety and even common sense at times to pursue it. Worryingly so. They distrust it immediately, all of the crown prince’s frowning concentration as they try to put more distance between themselves and the border of Drona’s hermitage.

“Princes are not supposed to notice servants.” Vasusena shoots back, ducking around the limbs of a fallen tree, wishing they could run and not face trouble for it later. “Go back. Your brothers will miss you.”

He doesn’t, continuing this pursuit like a hound on the scent of blood.

“You aren’t one of Drona’s disciples.” Duryodhana guessed. “Did he refuse you? Could you not pay?”

It’s not your business, the retort burns on the tip of Vasusena’s tongue and they swallow it back with bitterness. But the crown prince seems to think of them as harmless: just a boy, with their hair tied up and tucked under a plain turban, which is fortunate.

“He does not train sutas, your highness.” Vasusena reminds him instead, eager to leave this conversation behind. “Unless one is born a kshatriya or comes to him as a brahmin, they are denied. You should go back, highness. Your teacher will not be pleased that you've left without permission.”

“Dronacharya is rarely pleased with me.” Duryodhana doesn’t seem incredibly bothered by it, Vasusena notes. “Slow down at least. Why were you creeping around then? Trying to learn what he teaches us?”

Vasusena’s ears burn. It would be a lie to say no and they do not like to speak lies, even to someone as annoying as the crown prince. In a way he reminds them of the boys who like to run through the streets of town; the ones who tug on married women’s skirts and yell for sweets, eager to cause trouble.

“I was not creeping.” Vasusena counters, slowing down despite themselves. Duryodhana has followed them this far. It will be more trouble if he kept pace all the way back into town. Adhiratha would raise a fuss if he saw them with one of Drona’s disciples; especially if he recognized Duryodhana on sight. And if Drona himself found out it would more than likely mean a beating for both of them.

“Sneaking then.” Duryodhana dismisses their response immediately, peering at them with renewed interest. It makes the hairs on the back of Vasusena’s neck lift, but they stand their ground. “Have you been watching us for that long, then? How did you avoid Ashwatthama?”

It’s not as difficult as you might think, they don’t say.

“He has all of you to look after.” Vasusena reminds him coolly.

“Will you be back?” Duryodhana asks, taking their statement in stride amazingly well. Or perhaps he never cared for what they’d say to begin with; which is likely. “You must want to learn, if you are willing to come out so far. And you are a suta, you said?”

They shouldn’t come back, that much is obvious.

It had been curiosity, the first time. The legendary Dronacharya in the flesh, not a figure out of myth as he was made out to be. Vasusena hadn’t been the only one who had snuck from their chores to try and catch a glimpse of Hastinapur’s newest warrior-sage. It was easier than trying to glimpse Bhishma, who was perhaps even more famous; but shut himself away in the palace to attend the throne.

After that, they could only blame themselves and the hunger for knowledge; insistent and stubborn.

“What does it matter to you?” It came out as a challenge, too sharp for the politeness a prince is due.

“I could show you what he teaches us, if you do.” Duryodhana lifts his chin, dangerously imperious for a boy his age. “Or must I ask who your father is, suta; so that I might find you again once Drona sends us into town?”

Cold dread forms a tight knot in their stomach at the threat. Not that, Vasusena thinks; pulse skipping a beat. Of all the things to ask, don’t choose that you arrogant little chit.

“I might.” They hazard doubtfully, glancing past him towards the trees beyond. In case there might anyone else watching, just to further their poor luck. “Why go through the trouble? I’m a suta, as you so kindly point out.”

Duryodhana shrugs, smiling carelessly. “It pleases me to consider it. And you are not one of my cousins, so you must be loyal to my family. I can trust that you won’t turn on me with the knowledge I give you.”

I never promised that, Vasusena bites back the thought before it can get him in trouble; exasperated and faintly amused. They supposed it must be nice to have the privilege of tossing out a teacher’s lessons like scraps of food; blindly trusting that someone would feel some bit of obedient loyalty for his kindness.

“Perhaps.” They say, measuring the time and frowning. “You should go back. I have my own business to attend. It has nothing to do with entertaining you further.”

Their father has always warned that their tongue will bring nothing but trouble if Vasusena speaks as they normally would to everyone, but Duryodhana only laughs.

“Go, then.” He manages between snickers. “And if we see each other again we’ll revisit the deal.”

Spoilt princeling, Vasusena rolls their eyes as they leave; keeping the thought to themselves where it belongs. He does not follow them home, thankfully.

-

“So this is where you’ve been sneaking off to.” A new voice breaks in, distracting Vasusena from their shot and interrupting Duryodhana’s petulant complaints about his teacher’s favoritism. Vasusena startles, almost loosing their arrow at the speaker instead. They manage not to, though Vasusena does wish they could disappear immediately as Ashwatthama jumps down from a tree.

He does not look pleased to say the least; but he only glances at them before his attention centers on Duryodhana. For that Vasusena is thankful.

“You weren’t given permission to leave today.” Ashwatthama groused.

“I finished my chores.” Duryodhana bristled, straightening up to stand at full height as though it would bring him level with Ashwatthama. “It’s no business of yours what I do afterwards, brahmin’s son.”

“Careful.” Ashwatthama’s scowl morphed into a shark’s smile. “You’re still not out of trouble from the last time you snuck off. In Hastinapur you might be a prince, but as long as you’re being taught by my father you’re just his student. Who’s this?” He jerked his chin crudely, focused on Vasusena.

They traded glares for a moment before Duryodhana responded.

“A friend. Vasusena.” Duryodhana’s tone dripped with pride. “His father served mine as charioteer. I’m teaching him, since Drona does not train those who aren’t kshatriya.”

Vasusena glanced at him, put off by the familiar use of the word friend. When exactly Duryodhana had decided that was the basis of their relationship was something he’d failed to mention; at least to them. Ashwatthama’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he did not appear to believe it either.

“That right?” Drona’s son drawled, looking Vasusena over with renewed suspicion. “And who said you could go around and play at being a teacher yourself?”

Duryodhana’s features hardened, lips pulling back for a second. “I need no permission from you to share what I know. It cannot be called stealing, if I charge my own price.”

“Shall I leave?” Vasusena lowered the bow, glancing between them. Getting caught in a spat was the last thing they needed. If Drona’s son wanted to start a fight, he could do it on his own time.

“No.” Ashwatthama barked. “You’ll stay where you are. I’ve seen you skulking by the river, watching my father’s students.”

“There is no crime in going to the river.” Vasusena snapped back, gripping their borrowed bow tight. “If it happened to be when the lot of you were about, pardon me for staring. You shout and throw yourselves around like elephants. One can’t help but marvel at the sight.”

Duryodhana let out a choked noise, turning to them with wide eyes just as Ashwatthama advanced; teeth bared.

-

“Your stance is terrible.” Ashwatthama grinds out later, his bottom lip split and stinging. His right eye was certain to bruise and match the blotch forming on his jaw. “Should’ve gone to someone else to be your teacher instead of a brainless twit like Duryodhana.”

The crown prince jerked his head up to glare, nursing his own minor wounds. “Bite your tongue. I’m better than you, at any rate.”

You aren’t, Vasusena checked themselves before they could say it. “Teach me better then,” they countered instead, “or learn to throw a decent punch.”

“Horse-fucker.” Ashwatthama spits, sounding more entertained than actually angry. “Show your face around the hermitage again and I’ll send you back to your mother in a jar.”

“The same jar your father was conceived from?” Vasusena goads, already sitting up. His ribs ached, but nothing was broken yet so there was no reason to lay down and take his remark at face value. “What, has it become a family heirloom?”

Duryodhana cackles, delighted, and Ashwatthama growled a curse before he kicked at them again.

-

“Wipe your face.” Vasusena says, lightly kicking Ashwatthama’s calf to get his attention. He glowers, face and ears dark red; but swipes at his eyes before they can discern whether he’s been crying or not.

“What?” His voice comes out as a croak, overly harsh before he clears his throat. “If you’ve come to laugh go ahead. Get it out of your system.”

Vasusena offers him a cup without comment, watching his brow furrow and his mouth twist resignedly before he accepts it. Once he’s looked inside Ashwatthama’s expression clouds with uncertainty and he stares up at them in confusion.

“I didn’t steal it.” Vasusena tells him. “But it’s yours if you want it.”

Ashwatthama hesitates, disbelieving; then slowly takes a careful sip. Vasusena had watched the merchant pour it themselves, certain it held nothing but milk. It wasn’t much, but it was more than what the other boys living with Drona could claim at the moment.

“Why?” He passed them the cup once its empty and they took it.

“Because the opportunity was there to buy it and you have not told your father about teaching me.” Vasusena tells him. And, they don’t add, the princes’ cruelty is not really about having milk or not and you know it; even if you do not say anything.

Ashwatthama snorted, but didn’t reply. Vasusena let him be.

-

“You’re leaving?” Duryodhana seemed more upset by the prospect than Vasusena thought he would be, which they suppose is notable. “Why?” He pressed, sitting up to catch them by the wrist. “When?”

“To find a teacher who doesn’t shy from training a suta.” Vasusena shakes him off with more gentleness than originally intended. “You can’t afford to keep sneaking around and neither can Ashwatthama. He’ll be his father’s chief disciple soon enough and you’ll be returning to the palace.”

After a pause they softly add, “I leave tomorrow, before the sun rises.”

“So soon?” His expression darkens, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. Vasusena nods. “Who will you go to? Will they be far away? You’ll come back, right?”

“Parashurama.” Vasusena admits. “He does not care about gender. Only if one who approaches him is a kshatriya. If I can learn from him, then there will be no need to seek out anyone else.”

“But will you come back?” Duryodhana repeats, impatient.

Vasusena shrugs. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. My family is here, after all. If my return would not dishonor them then it’s likely that I will.” If my father can forgive my selfishness, yes.

Duryodhana continues to glare like they’ve betrayed him. Perhaps they have, by choosing to go abroad rather than stay in Hastinapur and wait to see what fate doles out to a charioteer’s child. Nothing especially good, Vasusena imagines. Nothing that would satisfy their want to learn and be something. Someone.

“I’ll wait for you, I suppose.” He says at last, petulant. “But I’ll be angry if you do not come back at all. At least write, if you can.”

Given Parashurama’s reputation for severe self-isolation, Vasusena honestly doubts they’ll have the chance. But it’s a small request. If it makes Duryodhana happy and less likely to turn into a nuisance then Vasusena can agree.

“I will try.”

-

It takes longer than they want to admit to come across Parashurama’s sanctuary. Like the god he worshiped, the sage made his home perilously high in the mountains; far away from civilization. Some part of them distantly wondered how Amba of Kashi might have found it in her own notorious attempt; if it had been her own determination, luck, or some nudge of a divine hand at play.

Parashurama is much older than Bhishma was said to be, hair stripped to grey and every inch of him worn hard and tough by years of harsh training. It was difficult to imagine him as ever having been young, or that he might have smiled even once in his long life.

“I’ve given up taking students.” He remarks, after hearing them speak. “I gave my weapons away, but for my axe. It was Shiva’s gift to me, and it would destroy you if you tried to use it. Go home, boy.”

“I am capable, Lord.” Vasusena replies. “And will give my full attention to the task you set. Be it washing your feet, gathering firewood, making your meals, obtaining offerings for your Lord Shiva.”

“And if I task you to return home,” Parashurama hardly misses a beat, “would you obey so faithfully?”

Vasusena frowns over his folded hands.

“No, my Lord.” They tell him honestly, because he would accept nothing less than the truth. And because they would not listen to an order like that even if he bodily threw them down the mountain himself. “That is something I cannot do.”

“We have no business with one another then.” Parashurama rumbles, turning away.

It is a little disheartening to watch him go. But he never specifically told them to leave, in hindsight. Vasusena stays, biding their time and gets to work. Parashurama never batted an eye at the things they did – not the pile of kindling set aside for his fire-ceremonies or offerings for his altar to Shiva.

By the end of the year Vasusena still lingers in his sanctuary and Parashurama has not tossed them out yet. It’s the oddest standoff Vasusena has ever been a part of. Now that they’ve grown used to it, Vasusena finds that they almost don’t mind.

“You are still here.” Parashurama remarks one night after sunset. It’s nearly impossible to spot him among the stones of his sanctuary when he keeps still, but his voice is unmistakable.

“I am, my Lord.” Vasusena agreed, washing their hands.

“I almost pity your parents.” He says, watching them move from task to menial task. “Who would you learn for, if I humored your request?”

Vasusena glanced at him as they finally settled down to sit, hands folded in their lap. “For myself, Lord. My parents didn’t want me to venture so far, but I wanted to master archery all the same. I have no other loves, none to pass on your knowledge to if you accepted me as a student.”

“Not even the ones your family serves? Kingdoms make demands at every point, child.” Parashurama’s tone darkened. “Any of them might ask for what you know in exchange for your life. What would you do then?”

“I will serve if I find their cause just and agreeable to me.” Vasusena picked their words carefully. “But I would not betray you, Lord, if that is what you think.”

He made a thoughtful sound. “So you say. But all the proof I have is in your words, and you’ve already betrayed those you claim to love by coming here against their wishes.”

Their neck and ears burned as he said that. Vasusena was glad ti was dark, if it meant Parashurama wouldn’t be able to see it. Several words came to mind for a reply, all of them bordering on an argument that they weren’t likely to win.

“Willfulness is not a sin on its own.” Their tongue got the better of them once more, though Vasusena tried to keep their tone level and respectful.

“No.” Parashurama agreed. “But it can open the way for worse, if not managed.” He paused, then stood up. “Go to bed. We’ll see in the morning how determined you truly are.”

“Good night, my Lord.” They replied, folding their hands.

-

“I’m destined to face betrayal from all my students, it would seem.” Parashurama’s disappointed gaze lingered on the wound and its trail of blood on Vasusena’s thigh. That hurt more than his curse, than the damage his anger might cause in their life. Than losing everything he’s taught them and the progress they’d made as a warrior.

“My Lord – “ Vasusena trailed off when Parashurama cut them off with a wave of his hand. They’d tried explaining and it hadn’t done any good. A lie was a lie. Parashurama wouldn’t see past that, even if they had come to him with no ill intentions.

“Be off with you.” He turned away; ignoring them. “I have no use for a liar. Do not show your face to me again.”

He wouldn’t listen if they tried to speak again. That much was more than obvious.

"I am sorry.” Vasusena told him anyway. Because it was true, and they would miss him.

The journey home was lonelier than it had any right to be.

-

Hastinapur had changed quickly, though maybe they shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Vasusena had been gone for fifteen years and initially couldn’t recognize the sprawl of buildings at all. The city had expanded out into the plains, grown further out from the river; and they slowly come to realize that there was a chance Adhiratha and his family may have needed to move as well.

Was their little brother grown now, Vasusena wondered; or was he still the over-eager boy he’d been when they left? Had he learned to drive a chariot yet or patch a wound? Was he tall, like their father, or stocky like their mother? Did he have a beard yet and had he learned to shave? Had he been married off?

Was Adhiratha older, his hair and beard gray; was he still so tired? And Radha, did she still smile or had she lost the ability?

They’d find the answers soon enough, picking their way along with the crowd moving through the city. Some event being held at the palace had everyone’s attention it seemed, and they had arrived just in time for it. Keeping their bow close Vasusena glanced over heads to see what was going on, stepping lightly around carts and guards; put off by so many voices after so long in the wilds.

Little wonder Parashurama stayed where he was, rather than endure it. They could see the merit of such a decision, now.

Still, misgivings aside, it was good to be home. And their dismay was replaced with wonder when the reason for the gathering came into view: a contest of arms between kshatriya; the colors of their families on display. The royal family had deigned to show themselves for the occasion: King Dhritarashtra and his wife Gandhari flanked by guards and maids; silver-armored Bhishma to their left. Other nobles sat lower, leaning forward eagerly as the lone figure in the center of the stadium’s ring raised a bow towards the sky and took aim.

Vasusena was too far away to see the string be released, but their eyes followed the bolt’s arc as it rose; watching it disappear behind a cloud and change into a searing flash of light. Petals tumbled back to the earth, teasing the crowd with sweet fragrance and softness. Even Bhishma seemed pleased, catching a few in a wide palm and confirming their realness to his king and queen.

A charming trick, fitting for an assembly like this.

“And who,” crowed a man in Hastinapur’s colors, riling the crowd. “Might try their hand against the greatest archer of the Bharat lineage?! Against Arjuna, the third son of Pandu?”

Many had been claimed as the greatest archer in the world. But it was a good goad: earning shouts and challenges from the crowd. Some who were closer to the ring pushed one another forward and were pulled back by their fellows.

Vasusena heard none of it, after the announcer had spoken; barely aware of their own feet moving.

“I will!” Their voice rose to answer the challenge. The announcer turned more slowly than Arjuna, both of them wide-eyed. “I will challenge him!”

-

“You are a fool.” Vasusena remarked, rejection from the royal family stinging in their ears. “I didn’t ask for your help, Duryodhana. You don’t have to do this and get mocked for it.” Blood pounded in his ears as he processed what had happened. Bhima’s fame might have been due to his talent with a mace, but his pointed sarcasm made for a decent secondary weapon nonetheless.

Sutaputra, he’d spat; Son of a charioteer. Hardly better than a dog.

Vasusena still wanted to put an arrow through Bhima’s throat for it, hands trembling faintly with rage. Then Duryodhana had spoken up in their defense, shocking everyone.

“I am doing this for us both.” Duryodhana muttered, low enough for them to hear before he turned back to his family. Beaming, just like the fool he was. Like the boy they remembered him being despite him being taller than them now, quick to impulse and anger.

-

“What am I to do with a kingdom?” Vasusena asks later; tending bruises and sore muscles from the stadium’s challenges. “I’m no politician. You know that, but you went through with your foolishness anyway.”

It turned their stomach to think about trying to manage a kingdom, when all they’d wanted was to test their skill against another’s. To see whether Arjuna was the better archer or if they could match – perhaps even surpass him. But there was no point in wishing to go back in time. A portion of Anga was now theirs and its welfare would be on their shoulders.

You should have kept silent, Adhiratha’s voice chided in their mind. Bowed your head and remembered your place. No one will celebrate the skills of a suta, not in Hastinapur.

“You were his equal, if not his better.” Duryodhana snapped. In a way it was amusing to watch him fume at his cousins and the ministers who refused him. “I only did what I could to make them see it. If it meant giving you a kingdom then it would be the least I could do, for a friend.”

“We have not seen each other in fifteen years and you still call me friend.” Vasusena shook his head. “What have I ever done for you to warranty such generosity?”

Duryodhana paused, fixing him with a baffled look as though they had just asked him to explain why water flowed down instead of up.

“We are friends.” He repeats like it were the simplest thing. “Was I supposed to stand there and watch as you were mocked? For a trick of birth you had no control over?”

“Just admit that you wished to spite your cousins,” Vasusena sighed, propping one arm on a folded knee. “And perhaps I will believe you more. I’ve done you no kindnesses that could justify what you have done for me. Now I face a debt that I can never repay in this life because of it. Be honest, if you are truly my friend; and I will listen.”

Duryodhana’s jaw worked for a moment before he abruptly sat beside them, close enough that anyone passing might believe them to be friends in truth. Shutting his eyes he sighed heavily through his nose before looking at Vasusena again.

“Spiting the Pandavas did have a hand in it.” He admitted, somewhat managing to not sound like a sulking child. “And I might have put my support behind nearly anyone who might be able to show them up. But, Vasusena, I consider you my friend. If a kingdom is the price to prove it, and make you equal to challenge those who otherwise look down on you; then it is hardly a choice.”

“And you are a fool to make that choice.” Vasusena offhandedly replied. “I stand by that, even now.”

Duryodhana smiled, sudden and bright. “But you are sitting. Should I take your word at half-truth then?”

And just like that Vasusena wanted to haul him down into the Ganga, to watch as Duryodhana flailed within its waves like no time had passed between them at all.

“Then at least let me attempt to even the scales, if I’m to be a king and your friend.” Vasusena hummed. “To repay your charity. If anyone comes to ask me for alms while I am at my prayers; they won’t leave empty handed. If it’s mine to give or something I can acquire by my own power, let them have it.”

“If that is what it takes to please you, my friend.” Duryodhana chuckled, tension bleeding from his frame. “I was beginning to think we would argue over it even longer before you accepted.”

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Gormless Ch. 11 –  I’m Korma for you, imperialistic dogs

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband.  In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England.  Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag.  She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon.  He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok.  Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything.  Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government.  She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it.  They are at her husband’s old pack castle about it.  Are they hiding something?????

Chapter 11 – I’m Korma for you, imperialistic dogs

Okay despite my grumblings on the lack of shit that happened last chapter.  This chapter comes in HOT!  And by HOT, I mean RACIST!

Basically everybody is taking a leisurely walk in the garden.  Ivy asks the military bros about, “how brave they are to fight the ~primitives~ in India.”

HAHA OKAY! LET’S JUST KEEP TRUCKING!

Maccon says it’s just minor pacification at this point, thus implying that he’s done the same sort of business which is super good and great.  

Oh but here’s a big old sticking point for me, one of the military bros says the food in India is terrible.  I will preface this by saying I have only probably had ~Americanized~ Indian food from restaurants or used generic recipe websites.  So we can have a discussion on whether I have had ~authentic~ Indian food and if ~authentic~ food is even a thing.

BUT INDIAN FOOD IS ONE OF THE MOST WELL-RESPECTED CUISINES IN THE WORLD, AND BRITISH PEOPLE, RIGHTLY LOVE IT!  WHAT I HAVE HAD HAS BEEN UTTERLY INCREDIBLE AND I WHAT LITTLE I KNOW ABOUT IT MAKES IT IMPRESSIVE AND WONDERFUL AND GO FUCK YOURSELF!

THIS IS A HILL I WILL DIE ON!  I don’t delete comments for much but if anybody comments on this chapter with even, “Indian food is just okay” COMMENT DELETED!

In this story’s defense, perhaps they think the food is bad because the Indian individuals preparing food for the exploitative brutes just took a dump on a plate and put a leaf on top.

Okay so while I fantasized about rubbing vindaloo directly into the eyes of these dipshit characters I continued…Alexia gets snippy with these military bros…but not over any of the racist horseshit, she tries to start shit over them describing Egyptian and Indian weather as hot. And maybe the author is trying to take pot-shots at these fuckers, but like why is she making snippy comments about how they describe the FUCKING weather instead of standing up for Indian people? Also Ivy was the one who started by calling them ~primitives~ but she’s not concerned with Ivy at all.  Also don’t @ me with whore shit like, “Well Ivy is supposed to be dumb” dumb people aren’t automatically racist fuck off.

We move on to find out that the Kingair pack STOLE ARTIFACTS including ACTUAL FUCKING MUMMIES from Egypt when they passed through.  THANKFULLY there is a blip of sanity when Maccon says that’s illegal.

Yet it gets SO MUCH WORSE when Alexia proposes a good old fashioned

MUMMY UNWRAPPING PARTY!

Which everybody gets super excited about.  Those by the way were REAL THINGS in Victorian England. JUST IN CASE YOU NEEDED TO KNOW!

Maccon and Alexia go aside a moment where Alexia says the humanization is obviously coming from the artifacts they brought back and that Maccon should have them confiscated since they are illegally gained.  They go back and forth about what to DO with them once they’re confiscated, and both agree that destroying them would be a bad idea…but they don’t bring up the fact you could I DON’T KNOW just return them to the country of origin? HAHA okay.

They head back to the castle and LeFoux, in proper dramatic fashion, is racing toward them saying some cliffhanger shit like, “10 dramatic turns this book could take but won’t! #7 will shock you!”  But before she’s able post some hilarious reaction memes she gets SHOT in the back! DUN DUN DUN!

Then they’re getting shot at and hiding behind the umbrella cause THAT’S FOOL-PROOF but eventually are able to get everybody inside the castle.

And here they just forget anything interesting was going to happen.

Nobody seems concerned with combing the castle to find the gunman in one of these towers.  I have done a few active shooter drills at my place of work, and you know what’s a big part of that?  If the shooter isn’t found just literally forget about them.  What could be the harm?  

Instead they fuss over LeFoux with Alexia wondering, “Was she really shot? Is she faking? Is she behind all of this?” And it’s like YOU LEGIT JUST WATCHED HER GET SHOT AND WHILE SHE WAS ON THE GROUND MORE BULLETS WERE WHIZZING BY YOU! EVEN IF SHE IS, IT SEEMS LIKELY THERE IS SOMEONE ELSE INVOLVED! By the way when I say fussed over there is no description of them bandaging any wounds or anything.  They don’t state outright here but in next chapter they talk about how it’s all tranquilizer bullets. It’d be nice if they mentioned it...you know this chapter.  It honestly felt like they had just propped a woman bleeding out in a chair and talked about how she’s probably behind her own impending death.

This would have been a great moment dramatic moment for them to expose LeFoux’s neck for Maccon to see the Hypocras tattoo. Imagine Maccon losing his shit that they let a Hypocras Crony in their mist, and when he finds out Alexia had seen the tattoo before, gets even loonier.  Alexia is ashamed that the intimacy she shared with LeFoux was perhaps cheating mixed with the shame of same-sex attraction, and kept her around in hopes that she could learn something more about her deceased father from her but instead just endangered everyone.

WASTED OPPORTUNITY!

Alexia then sneaks off to chat with Sidheag. When Alexia first met Sidheag she made a mental note of instantly liking her. This conversation starts with Alexia mentally stating that she’s ~decided to hate her.~ BITCH OVER WHAT? You’re being treated well in this castle, and she’s been polite despite you insulting her castle at every fucking turn.  Alexia just hasn’t been hitting that self-misogyny quota!

Let’s start with the good part of this conversation.  Alexia asks Sidheag about how she feels about what her great granddad did to the clan.  Sidheag says she was 16 and off at school when it happened. (Though at one point Alexia says that Sidheag is not holding a tea cup right and thus implies she never went to finishing school at all…and it’s like…are you trying to throw a seed of doubt that she’s lying about everything? I mean that’s cool but like I think it’s kinda a big jump from ~holds tea cup in different way.~)

Anyway while Sidheag agrees with his politics, she thinks he could have handled it better. She suggests he should have killed/kicked out more of the top members involved in the attempted murder instead of just skipping town entirely.  I was surprised to see the author give this situation more depth than just, “MACCON IS RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING CAUSE HE IS BEST MAN!” So that’s the good part.

It seems odd that Maccon only punished 1 person despite it being a clan-wide problem. When Sidheag got back from school he put her and her boyfriend (whom was not part of the clan) in charge and everything just went peachy after that. REALLY? Seems to me the bitter leftovers from that dispute would really fucking resent a teenage human grandchild of the big bad ex-leader who hadn’t been spending much time there and her no-name boyfriend showing up to run things.  If they were going to kill a queen, it doesn’t seem below them to murder the two of them, especially with nobody there to protect them.

BUT THE FUCK DO I KNOW?

Most of the conversation is more of the “I WANT GRANDADDY TO TURN ME INTO A WEREWOLF!” Which…we had that conversation before, but at least Alexia decides she wants to support her in this.  Maccon is cranky when brought up but understands.  Their room is ransacked, but her bag is safe.  Alexia thinks that what LeFoux wanted to tell her probably involved the Aethongrapher, but she decides NOT to check it out cause ??????????? Maccon says that Tunstell brought him a special gun and they get ready for dinner.  The chapter ends with Alexia making the super clever deduction that Maccon has had the ulterior motive of trying to ~fix~ his old pack.  

And wow holy shit there Alexia

Sooooooo smart!  This is something that really needed to be pointed out too! Greaaaaaaaaaat.

This is especially infuriating due to how it’s written Full quote:

“…You must agree I have a point.”

He turned to frown up at her.  “I hate it when you come over all correct.”

Alexia trotted down the staircase until they were nose to nose. She had to stand one step up from him for it to be so. She kissed him softly. “I know.  But I am so very good at it.”

She’s praised for the deduction that didn’t even need to be stated, smugs up the place, and the fucking line, “Come over all correct.”  MAYBE IT’S JUST ME BUT THESE SAD ATTEMPTS OF TRYING TO SOUND PERIOD APPROPRIATE MAKE ME WANT TO YARF!

Also let me point out that Maccon has only started drama, gotten into a fist-fight, and try to or have sex with his wife the entire time he’s been there. Alexia has actually done more than he has for the clan and she hasn’t even been trying.

OH YEAH AND WE JUST GONNA FORGET SOMEONE GOT SHOT AND THE SHOOTER IS HANGING OUT IN THE CASTLE WITH YOU ALL RIGHT NOW? OKAY SURE?

Say something nice Faps:

At least something fucking happened this chapter.

I do genuinely like how Sidheag disagrees with how her great grandfather did things and she’s not demonized for it…at least not yet. I will dunk myself in boiling oil if it’s revealed that SIDHEAG IS BIG BAD CAUSE OF NOT HOLDING A TEA CUP RIGHT.

Sidheag is cool, can we not pick on her ever again?

Super looking forward to do aggressive racism of the mummy unwrapping party y’all!

[xpouii]

JSE Day 23: Champion

Day 23 of the JSE artists prompts by @septic-bella

**All previous entries are available on AO3 under the title “Mayhem” with my same username.**

**Sorry for how fantastically late this is!**

               The three of them sat in the living room, doing their best to pretend that the world wasn’t ending. Chase had put on a movie that none of them were watching, and the silence between them had gone from comfortable to deafening. When Jackie’s cellphone rang, they all three jumped, and Jackie grabbed it, thankful for the distraction, “Hello?”

               “Jackie!” Henrik was shouting over a dull roaring. “We have to get Jack out of the hospital! Everybody is dead!”

               “Everybody?!”

               “I’m here!” Marvin shouted beside Henrik.

                “We won’t be for long if we don’t get out of here. They broke in through the front doors. I think we can get to the car, but if they’re outside of the house, there’s no way we can get Jack inside.”

               “I can cover you,” Jackie said. “Don’t worry--or worry a little, but I’ll make it work.”

               Henrik exchanged glances with Marvin, “I have faith in you, Jackie.”

               “I’ll be ready,” Jackie said, hanging up.

               Jameson started signing as soon as he hung up, and Jackie lifted a hand, “Schneep and Marvin are coming. They’re bringing Jack, but I have to figure out how to keep the bastards away from the door. Jack isn’t exactly going to walk in here.”

               Jameson nodded and went into the kitchen while Chase stood up, “Right. I need my gun.”

               “No,” Jackie said. “Absolutely out of the question. You two stay inside, and the last thing you need is a gun, Chase.”

               “Jackie you need us, and I need the gun! This isn’t the time to pussy out! I’m not going to shoot myself in the middle of a fucking zombie battle, and you can’t do everything all by yourself! Use your head!”

               Jackie grit his teeth, then reached into his pocket and tossed Chase the keys to his desk, “Don’t make me regret this, Chase!”

               Chase ran off to Jackie’s bedroom, and Jameson came in, holding an eight inch chef’s knife. His expression was a grim resolve that made Jackie’s heart sink, “Jamie, no. You can’t-“

               I’ll be fine, Jameson signed, closing off the discussion.

               Chase returned with his gun and two boxes of ammo, setting them on the coffee table. He handled the gun easy and confident, like he’d never been without her, “Thanks for taking care of her, Jackie.”

               “I wanted to have it melted down,” Jackie said. “But Henrik talked me out of it.”

               Chase loaded the gun, clicking the safety off, “Good thing, too.”

               “How much ammo do you have?” Jackie asked, looking out the window into the darkness.

               “Enough,” Chase said. “Probably.”

               Jackie nodded, “They’re just puppets, right? There’s no way Anti has them organized. How bad can it be?”

                Chase was quietly taking inventory of his ammo, and Jameson gave an optimistic thumbs up, but even he looked worried.

                “We just have to clear a path for Schneep and Marv to get through with Jack. We can do this.”

               “Sure we can,” Chase said. “We’ve already been through hell. What’s one more day?”

                 The street outside of the house was choked with puppets, and Jackie slammed the door open, knocking away the ones that had come up to stand on the landing. He rushed down the stairs and a wide kick scattered several more. They weren’t particularly strong, and they were as stupid as Jackie had hoped. His relief quickly drained away to nothing, though, when the brainless wave parted and Anti sauntered up with a smile.      

               Jackie’s heart sank. Why the fuck was he here? “Morning, or is it afternoon? I’ve had a hard time telling lately.”

               “Fuck you,” Jackie growled, and he dove on the glitch.

               The connection of their bodies was like an explosion, and Anti’s glitching was like sparks, flashing in the darkness and illuminating the area around them. The puppets steered clear, and obviously Anti wanted Jackie to himself. Gunshots rang out, and Chase had managed not to freeze up at the sight of Anti. Besides, he wasn’t the scariest thing in Chase’s life anymore, and he had a reason to fight. Puppets fell easily, and Chase’s aim was as spot on as it had ever been, fueled by adrenaline and necessity.

                  Marvin closed his eyes and gripped the seat, and a shimmer of blue danced before the car, “That should keep them from coming through the windshield until we get there. Just run the fuckers down.”

               Henrik nodded, shifting gears and his car roared out of the parking garage. They braced for impact, and Henrik hit the group head on, throwing corpses out of the way as the barrier pushed them aside. The engine held up, and they didn’t slow down, but they were only five miles down the road before Marvin’s nose started to bleed. “Marvin?”

               “Don’t stop,” the magician said, wiping at his face. “If you stop, we’re fucked. Don’t worry about me. Worry about Jack.”

               The puppets thinned as they left the hospital, and the road to the house was fairly clear. Once they reached home, however, the street was absolutely swarming with the puppets. Henrik spotted Jackie fighting Anti, in the center of the mass and he slammed on the brakes, but Marvin’s magic pushed his foot away, dropping the barrier, “Marvin!”

               “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Schneep!” Marvin shouted, and the engine roared as the car leapt forward. “Run that bastard over!”

               Jackie glanced up and jumped out of the way at the last second, the car slamming full force into Anti, throwing him up and over the hood. He landed heavily on the pavement behind the car, jumping to his feet with a glitching snarl. Jackie ran over the car and tackled Anti before he could attack the others, taking a knife in his shoulder. The glitch was pissed, and Jackie would suffer the consequences.

               Henrik’s car came to a stop and the doctor took a moment to stop panicking. He glanced over to Marvin, “We have to get Jack inside.”

               “It looks like Chase has us covered once we get to the steps.”

               Henrik exhaled, “Can you get us there?”

               Marvin nodded, “I think so. I don’t know for how long.”

               “Then we’ll hurry,” Henrik said. He threw open the car door, and Marvin followed.

                They dragged Jack out of the backseat and carried him toward the house. “Thank god he hasn’t eaten this whole time,” Marvin huffed.

               Then they approached the horde, and puppets were scattered by an invisible force that narrowed until there was barely a foot of clearance around them. Blood was pouring out of Marvin’s nose but he held the magic, squeezing his eyes shut to close out the sight of the mindless monsters. Then there was slow relief, and puppets fell away from the barrier. Jameson was there, pulling them away, cutting throats and stabbing as best he could with the kitchen knife he held. He met eyes with Marvin and gave a little smile and wave. Chase was halfway down the stairs, taking puppets out with a precision that scared Marvin, but at the same time, thank god for that gun.

               They made it up the stairs and into the house, and Jameson took over for Marvin. “Get him to the lab,” Henrik said.

               Marvin fell to his knees and Chase knelt beside him, “All good, Marv?”

               He wiped the blood from his face and nodded, “Good shooting out there.”

                 Anti was back to laughing, having the time of his life and absorbing every hit from Jackie. His mouth was bleeding, and his left arm wasn’t so much broken as demolished, but Anti never stayed hurt for long. The fight was a game, a ruse. Even when Anti had spotted Jack, and Jackie had put up all of his strength to keep him away from the others, it still felt like a false flag.

                That’s when the threads came out. Anti had pulled Jackie against him, and they’d woven around the hero’s legs, “Why don’t you just give up?” Anti purred. “Wouldn’t it be easier?”

               Jackie headbutted Anti, driving his forehead into the glitch’s nose, and the sickening crack and subsequent vanishing of the threads was a rush. The hero stepped back then, panic ringing in his ears as he turned and ran to the door. He locked it behind him and fell against it, fear squeezing at his throat. It was the first time he’d ever been touched by those things, and they had been inviting, like his bed after a long fight. He’d been tempted to give in, and that scared him more than anything. He stumbled away from the door, trying to get ahold of himself.

               Marvin met him, wrapping him in a tight hug, “We made it. Thank you.”

               “No problem,” Jackie muttered into Marvin’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

               Marvin pulled back and smiled; he was tired, but he wasn’t dead, and that was something, “I can keep the house safe for now. Henrik has Jack in the lab.”

               Jackie nodded and went off to the lab. For now, it was over.  

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

m hangery

Words cannot express the deep, intense and unreasonable RAGE I feel when I see non-gluten free people eating up the food at the gluten free station. Like, oh, I’M SORRY man who could eat literally anything at any of the stations open here; was the pizza line too long for you?? Is that why you come over here for our pitiful chicken stir fry, which I guarantee is not any better than any of the multiple options open to you? You didn’t feel like waiting in the line? You fucker. You absolute buffoon. I HAVE NOT HAD PROPER PIZZA SINCE SIXTH GRADE. You fuckers could have LITERALLY ANYTHING in this cafeteria and you come over to my allergen-friendly section with its limited amount of food with your goddamned jock appetites and “I’m in The Football! I’m allowed to eat an entire building if I feel like it because it’s my God-given Right!” and you clean out the stir fry so when I come back for seconds (because no one gives A Girl large helpings like you get because everyone can see you’re in The Football, because GOD FORBID A Girl should ALSO have an appetite), there isn’t any left; bonus Rage Points for if you degenerates say it “doesn’t taste good” and throw away half of it, also THANK YOU dude just brazenly bringing over a plate FULL OF GLUTEN and making the server just fuckin put the specially-prepared gluten free foods for people with sensitivities ON TOP OF THE WHEAT PRODUCTS ALREADY HEAPED ON YOUR PLATE, THUS CROSS-CONTAMINATING ALL THE REST OF THE FOOD IF SHE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES THE SPOON TO IT, yes, THANK YOU sir for showing literally everyone around you that you Literally Do Not Give a Single Fuck about the sign RIGHT THERE saying hey this is the allergen-free station pls keep it clean and only eat here if you HAVE to so we’ll have enough food for people who actually NEED TO EAT HERE, THANK YOU, SIR, for showing me that you, who can eat NORMAL PIZZA whenever you so desire and have the choice of any of the foods offered at ANY of the any other multiple food stations rather than this ONE devoted station, feel entitled enough to ALL AND ANY FOOD that you can just wander over and be like “yeah put some of that special allergen-friendly food on my gluten-covered plate with that supposed-to-be-sterile spoon lady” and then go fucking take a single bite and go “this tastes gross. It doesn’t have enough Bread in it” and throw it out while I’m taking a panicked lap around the cafeteria trying to find something I can safely eat before I have to head to my next class FUCKERS. You can have any of this food at any time WHY DO YOU COME MESS WITH MY FOOD THERE IS A LIMITED AMOUNT OF IT, YOU GIGANTIC MAN-HOOVERS, YOU BRAINLESS CONSUMERS, STICK TO YOUR GODDAMN PIZZA, I DON’T COMPLAIN WHEN YOU MEATSACKS EAT IT IN FRONT OF ME BUT BY GOD IF YOU DEPRIVE ME OF THE SPECIALLY-PREPARED FOOD I CAN ACTUALLY EAT I AM GOING TO ASCEND TO AN ELDRITCH REALM BY THE POWER OF PURE UNADULTERATED RAGE AND CONSUME THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE IN MY HANGER

[kittae]

Pepero Day (M)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Smut, Bestfriend!Yoongi, Valentine’s Day themed

Word count: 5.7k

warnings: Rated M, language, graphic sexual descriptions

A/N: This was meant to be a valentine’s day fic, but it’s a day late, rip. I hope you enjoy it regardless!

“The fuck is the point of this stupid holiday anyway?”

“Oh so now it’s a stupid holiday, huh? What happened to your ‘It’s a beautiful day of celebration between two people who have found the other half of themselves in each other’ bullshit?”

“Yoongi, will you just shut up and get over here already?”

“I’m just saying that you had a whole different view on it last year, that’s all i’m saying. Whole different.”

‘”get it, i get it. I’ll get the snacks ready, be here in five.”

“I’ll bring the booze.”

“Great.”

You hung up with a sigh, probably more theatrical than strictly acquired, but who honestly gave a damn anymore. Not you, that’s for sure. The day you’ve been dreading since you and your ex broke up was finally here. Valentine’s day. You couldn’t help but imagine those two measly words in a mocking, childish tone every time it popped up inside your head.

“Valentine’s day,” you tried out loud, physically unable to say it normally, as if it would curse you if you did. Or just because you were petty as hell. Never again will you take this day of fake affection and overpriced presents seriously. How could you have been so naive and conform in the past. Love makes you a brainless doll who isn’t capable of thinking rationally, you’ve decided, and therefore it is useless and unnecessary. Some people may call you bitter or sour or salty or whatever else god damn flavour there is to call someone who finally got to think for herself. But you knew there was always one person who would understand your so called ‘bitterness’.

With that, as if jinxed, you heard the doorbell ring and break through your whirling thoughts. When you opened it, the most familiar figure stood in front of you, looking bored to death as per usual.

“You got the vodka?” you asked him almost equally as uninterested.

“What, am i not allowed to come in if i don’t?”

You just silently stared at him, leaning against your doorway and observing his hands in the pockets of his huge, black winter coat.

“What do you think?” he asked with an overdramatic roll of his eyes adding to the slightly aggravated tone in his voice while he pulled a bottle of liquor from his pocket. You’d grown so accustomed to his sass, it almost felt like home.

“Your ticket has been verified sir, please do come in.”

As you turned your back to lead him into your apartment, you heard the faint sound of an indignant scoff that instantly managed to bring a smile on your face.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” he questioned as you walked through the hallway and up the stairs, ‘and why aren’t we taking the elevator?’

“World War Z and because it’s busted. You should get more exercise anyway.”

“Speak for yourself,” he murmured underneath his breath, but still loud enough so he was sure you could hear him and shake your head in amusement.

You opened the door to your humble abode, widely gesturing him to enter.

“Voilà!”

“Ooh, fancy, you even made us a blanket and pillow fort this time. You’ve really outdone yourself, ____-,” a hint of sarcasm lingering in his voice, but he couldn’t hide the overbearing excitement in it when it raised a few tones.

“Well, it is Valentine’s day after all.” you mimicked his sarcasm.

“Ugh,” another roll of his eyes. See, he understood.

6 shots and 2 bags of chips later, you were halfway through the movie, watching how a mass horde of gruesome zombies tried to climb over the enormous wall and succeeded in doing so. Normally you’d cover your face with a blanket every time one of those ugly fuckers would sink their teeth into some poor guy’s flesh, but you were already too drunk to care this time. You didn’t know why you’d chosen a zombie movie yet again when you knew they usually made you sick to the stomach, but you did know they’re thrilling and they make you forget about certain unpleasant thoughts and memories. Besides, you felt at ease being accompanied by the presence of a silent Yoongi, surrounded by a pile of junkfood and following garbage.

Your hand disappeared into a bag of chips, only to realise it was empty. Sighing, you groped at the ground without taking your eyes off the screen, feeling around until your fingers stumbled upon a small, rectangled carton box. You knew you had some Pepero laying around somewhere! When you ripped the packaging open, Yoongi suddenly snapped his head in the direction of the sound.

“Are those Pepero?” he asked, his eyes locked on the chocolate covered cookie sticks that were sticking out of the tin foil.

“They are. Want some?”

“You know i do.”

He grabbed a handful of sticks, so he could binge eat them one after another. You preferred to take them out of the packaging one at a time and savour the taste of chocolate melting on your tongue while you both continued to watch the movie in silence. After a few minutes, you reached out to grab another, only to find the packaging empty.

Except for one single pepero.

You slowly pulled it out of the foil, keeping your eyes on your so far unsuspecting best friend as he was too engrossed in watching the bloody and horrific scene in front of him. Making as little sound as physically possible, you managed to get it out safe and sound and brought it to your mouth. But then Yoongi’s hand landed on the box, feeling around and quickly discovering it was empty. He turned his head and was just in time to see you open your mouth.

“Is that the last one?” he asked, his eyes squeezed to slits in suspicion.

“N-no?”

“____-, the box is empty, i’m not an idiot. Share it with me.”

“No!”

“Damn it, ____-! Don’t be selfish! The vodka i bought is worth like 500 of those things!”

“No, it’s mine!” you whined and quickly put the tip in your mouth and thereby claiming it as your own, “What are you gonna do n-”

Your eyes widened comically when there were suddenly only a few inches left between your face and his, the chocolate part of the last pepero stick ending where Yoongi’s lips began.

You were too shocked to react, or maybe it was the way he looked at you with those half lidded eyes and full, rosy lips curled around the snack that rendered you immobile and speechless. You felt your face heating up quickly, your ears burning hot while your heart raced in your chest, your head feeling light and empty. You wanted to ask him what he was doing, but somehow your mind forgot how to form words.

The short sound of the snack breaking between his teeth reached your ears, yet he didn’t let go of the small piece that was still stuck between your own lips. You stopped breathing, holding your breath in anticipation of what was going to happen, your eyes going dry as you completely forgot what blinking was. A quick flash of a sly smirk appeared in the corner of your eye before he backed away as fast as he showed up in front of your face.

It took you a good few seconds and a few blinks of your eyes to finally recollect your thoughts and shake yourself out of the strange high, while he just got back to watching the movie as if nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.

“What the hell was that?!” you asked him, verbalizing your confusion in a snappy question.

“Hm? What was what?” he murmured, not even bothering to look away from the screen.

Was your imagination playing tricks on you or did you see the corner of his mouth pull up in that same sly smirk again?

“You-You know! What you just did!”

“Take a bite of the pepero?”

You felt heat rising up in your face again, pretty sure you got a bright red colour by now, but this time more out of frustration rather than excitement or embarrassment.

“Why did you do that! You can’t just do that and-and-” you stuttered, your head spinning with all kinds of emotions and you wondered why in the world it had affected you so much.

“Are you mad?”

The question echoed in your head, having you stare at him with your lips still slightly parted as if you were going to say something, but you had no words once again.

“W-what?”

“Are you mad i didn’t kiss you?” Yoongi asked, this time looking you dead in the eyes, a dark glint glistening inside his and that smirk back on his lips.

You gasped, a bright blush spreading across your cheeks for the third time that night, making you feel grateful about the fact it was dark in the room except for the TV still playing the movie. It was awfully silent, the animalistic, guttural growls and snarls of the zombies in the background the only sound resonating through the room. The flickering light of the TV illuminated parts of his face, bringing out the blue hue in his raven hair and the shadows contouring his features in a way that made breathing harder and you suddenly realised your cynical friend was actually really attractive.

After swallowing hard, you gave yourself some posture by scoffing and rolling your eyes at him.

“No? Are you crazy?” you retorted as if he just asked you the most stupid question in existence.

He simply shrugged and focused his attention back on the TV in complete lack of interest. But you couldn’t. Your eyes were glued on your best friend’s profile, studying his cute, little nose you never seemed to have noticed the beauty of, the way his black hair fell on his bright and pale skin, how full and inviting his lips looked. It felt as if a whole different person sat beside you. How did you not notice these things before? Was it because you’ve been too hung up on your ex after all these months since you broke up? Whatever it may be, you could never unsee him the way you were seeing him right now. And to think a stupid pepero was all it took.

Your hand moved as if it had a mind of its own, your fingers closing around the fabric of his sleeve and tugging on it. Yoongi turned his head and looked down at where your hand was groping his sleeve.

“What is it?” he frowned, looking between your eyes staring up at him and your hand, silently questioning what you were doing.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t an idiot before?” you asked him softly, slowly moving closer to him.

“I did.”

“Then kiss me, idiot.”

The whispered request got his eyes to widen for a second, but darkness filled them again deeper and more intense than the first time before he clutched a handful of your hair in his hand and crashed his lips on yours without hesitation. You completely surrendered yourself to him as he stole the air right out of your lungs, your fingers tangling themselves inside his charcoal locks while you devoured eachother, soft hums and whimpers escaping your lips as you practically sat yourself into his lap. His hands cupped the back of your thighs and pulled you closer while his tongue slipped itself inside your mouth, which you eagerly accepted. He tasted of vodka and chocolate and you were instantly addicted.

You grabbed onto the collar of his hoodie as you positioned yourself better in his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist while he supported your back with his arms before you decided you wanted the piece of clothing off of him. You tugged on it until it fell down his arms and he briefly let you go to shrug it off and throw it somewhere in the room, his lips never separating from yours for even a second.You ran your hands up his chest, your fingers brushing over his prominent collarbones sticking out of the black V-neck Tshirt he was wearing and you softly groaned in want. At the same time, his own fingers played with the hem of your shirt, dipping underneath the fabric and making you shiver in delight every time they made contact with your skin.

It wasn’t long before you noticed a very apparent bulge where you sat. Even through the denim, it was hard as a rock and poked against your ass, making you even more riled up then you already were. You rocked your hips in an experimental grind, testing the waters and earning you the satisfying response of a moaning Yoongi against your lips. The sound was so captivating, so you did it again.

“Mmm, fuck babe,” he moaned once more as he started to kiss his way down your neck and you giggled.

“Did you just call me babe?” you asked him teasingly, your bottom lip in a smile between your teeth and your eyelids fluttering in delight from the feeling of his lips dusting faint bruises on your sensitive skin.

You promptly found yourself on your back when he pushed you down in the many comfortable blankets and pillows you’d gathered for the fort, your legs still curled around his waist while he continued to attack your neck.

“There’s a lot of things i’ll be calling you tonight if we’re going to continue like this,” he breathed against your ear and a delicious shiver crawled over your skin.

He pushed himself up a bit so he was hovering over you, black strands of hair randomly falling in front of his handsome, flushed face when he looked you in the eyes, pupils blown in his own. You wanted nothing more than for him to continue.

“Don’t stop, Yoongi,” you exhaled before you quickly yanked him down by his shirt, already missing the feeling of your swollen lips connecting, tasting him, feeling him, you needed more.

Another soft whimper rolled off his tongue when it entangled with yours and you weren’t sure if all of this had sobered you up and made your head spin in desire or the high you were experiencing was mainly due to the alcohol. You were burning, your hips rolling in circles against the front of his jeans when he pushed himself flush between your legs, his straining erection perfectly tangible against your aching, clothed center. You didn’t think you’d ever wanted something, someone, so badly before.

You’d also never thought about making out with your best friend, but with the way his lips molded so perfectly against your own, his slender hands gently roamed your body, over your thighs, your sides, your chest, your hair, your face and the sounds he made while doing so, you never wanted it to stop.

His fingers closed themselves around the hem of your shirt again, subtly pushing it up and tickling your skin when they brushed over it, making you giggle softly against his lips and his lips curling into a smile in response, accompanied by a playfully frustrated groan.

“This needs to go,” he chuckled against your lips, something resembling a whine lingering in his voice.

“Take it off then,” you responded breathlessly, your heart going 100 beats per minute as your chest heaved in anticipation.

He didn’t need to be told twice as he practically ripped the thing off in all his excitement, your hair all tousled and messy from the force he pulled it over your head with, making it nearly impossible for you to suppress a laugh. Has he ever been this energetic before? You only seemed to recall a generally uninterested, unbothered Yoongi during the time you’ve known him, except for the times he was talking about his music.

His hands quickly found the firmness of your bra-covered breasts, his fingers softly caressing the swell sticking out of the garment as he left your lips to kiss his way down your neck. Quick pecks soon reached your collarbones, his tongue joining in once he came close to your mounds and his hands moved to your back to unclasp your bra. He just shoved the fabric down, too impatient to take it off properly, lips closing around your stiffened buds and humming contented when he laved his tongue over the soft flesh.

You stifled a moan when you felt the hot, wet muscle stimulate your sensitive nips, arching your back to somehow give him even better access to your chest when he sucked and licked his way around one breast and thoroughly massaged the other with his hand. Your fingers found themselves back in his jet black hair, caressing his scalp as a way to express your enjoyment. He simultaneously started fiddling with the button of your jeans, your heart pounding against its cage as your breathing got shorter and heavier.

It didn’t go by unnoticed.

“Are you nervous?” he asked when he looked up from your chest, a bit of worry present in his expression, though you saw his knuckles turning white around the waistband of your pants when he stopped all movements, indicating the self restraint he’s trying to hold up to make sure he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

You shook your head in denial, trying to shove his head back down to where he left off so he wouldn’t notice you actually were. You didn’t want him to know he actually had such power over you. But who were you trying to kid here. A mischievous smile played at his lips as he crawled back up until his face was right in front of you again.

“You so are. Do i make you nervous, baby?” he kept teasing, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he couldn’t contain the wide grin on his face.

“Of course not, it- It just felt good.” you muttered, angling your face away from his in fear he’d feel the heat radiating from your skin contradicting your words.

“Then why can’t you look at me, hm? Afraid i’d notice that…I make you nervous?”

He just wasn’t going to let it go, was he?

“You’d better stop playing games and start trying to expose me in a whole different way, Min Yoongi or i swear to god I- Oh fuck!” you cut yourself off in the middle of your heated scolding when he pinched your nipple not so gently, but oh so deliciously, making you bite your lip hard and scrunch your face up in pleasure when you couldn’t hold down a moan this time.

“What was that?” he asked with feigned innocence, acting as if he didn’t have a clue where that sound came from. God, you just wanted to smack this boy so hard, but you wanted to fuck him even harder.

“S-shut up and do it again.” you silenced him with your lips, pulling him in a rough kiss to show him just how much you were running out of patience.

He seemed to get the hint, or he just didn’t care for his little game anymore, and gave you exactly what you wanted by pinching your other nipple the precise same way between his thumb and index finger, coaxing another moan from your lips into his mouth. He groaned in response, catching your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging on it while resuming his previous attempt to get your pants loose.

You helped him get them off by kicking your legs, your hands now flying to his belt and unclasping it, suddenly feeling a burning desire and curiosity to see and feel what was hiding underneath the denim. When his jeans were off as well, you couldn’t resist cupping him through his boxer briefs, feeling him shudder on top of you while you marveled over his apparent size and thickness, your mouth already watering at the thought of it.

“Well damn, Yoongi,” you raised your brows in approval, a smug smirk plastered on his lips by this new boost of confidence.

“Wait until you see what i can do with it,” he quipped before reaching for his back with one hand and pulling his V-neck over his head, leaving his torso bare and for you to drool over.

He was very lean, not particularly muscular, but rather a strong delicacy in the way his muscles faintly tensed with every movement. And it was beautiful.

You’d gotten your bra off properly as well in the meantime, as it was starting to bother you. Now you were equally as naked, you started to feel a bit embarrassed. You’d been so engrossed in your excitement and his ministrations, you hadn’t stopped to think your best friend had never seen you this exposed before. You knew you basically asked him to, but still…

As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hands with his and entwined your fingers with each other before bringing your arms over your head and leaning down for a kiss, a different kind from the past ones. It was soft, reassuring, slow, leisure in contrast to the raw passion it had been up until now. It took away your breath as well as your worries.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he asked when he finally separated from your lips, again in the super casual tone you were used to and made you smile, as it felt like he didn’t expect anything different. Nothing could put you more at ease.

Upon seeing you smile like that, he couldn’t keep his lips from curling up either. He positioned himself back between your legs, placing them around his waist again and rolling his hips into yours to test the waters, the friction between your clothed parts already having you both groaning in pleasure. You bucked your hips up to feel it again and sighed in contentment when another wave of electric sparks surged through your core.

“Mhm, fuck,” Yoongi moaned against your skin before he started to kiss his way down your half naked body again, but this time he didn’t stop at your chest.

After he playfully nipped at each of your buds, he resumed his journey south further and further, his fingers kneading at your sides before they curled around the fabric of your panties.

This was it. This was really going to happen. No turning back now. And to be completely honest, why would you ever want to turn back from this?

His eyes shot up while his mouth descended, locking them with yours as he placed soft pecks on your pelvis when he pulled your panties down your thighs. Your chest rose and fell heavily, the short and ragged breaths making a comeback upon seeing the incredibly sinful sight in front of you. You couldn’t keep your cheeks from flushing bright right when you realised you were now stark naked in front of your best friend, especially not when his eyes left yours to look at the treasure between your thighs.

His mouth fell slightly agape and as if in a trance, he slowly lowered himself down on his stomach, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider to get better access. A few lazy kisses adorned the inside of your thighs before his tongue darted out of his mouth for an curious lick that already had you falling back into the pillows, face hot and resembling the colour of a tomato. You felt him gently spreading your lower lips with two of his fingers and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.

“So pretty and pink,” you heard him murmur under his breath a mere second before he full on buried his face in your heat, his lips molding against your core so perfectly and precise you couldn’t stop the moans from ripping through your throat already.

Your heart was pounding in your chest and throbbing in your core, toes curling so hard you almost cramped the muscles when he added his tongue flat on your clit, applying varying pleasure and sucking on it inbetween so there was nothing left to do for you than grip onto his hair and hold on tight, because it looked like this was about to be a wild ride.

“Fuck, Yoongi!” you gasped helplessly as your lungs seemingly couldn’t keep up with the overwhelming pleasure shooting through your body wave after wave, assaulting your nerves in frequently occuring shivers. You were positive you were probably crushing his head between your thighs, but he didn’t seem to care much as he relentlessly lapped away at your slit, humming as he refused to spill a single drop of your nectar and his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips so hard they were sure to leave bruises.

His name rolled off your lips in a frenzied chant at the point where your legs started to shake on top of his shoulders, for Yoongi a sign it was time to kick it up a notch.

He inserted one finger inside your throbbing heat, circling it around a few times before adding another, curling them up against your wall and hitting that sweet, sweet spot just right and making you scream.

“Oh fuck, holy shit! Y-Yoongi i- Oh!” you cried out, the combination of his fingers and his mouth just too much to bear for much longer as you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten more and more, threatening to snap with each time his digits rubbed your wall or his lips sucked on your nub.

Your hips started jolting forward, a string of curses cascading from your lips when the pleasure consumed all other senses as you hit your climax so hard your whole body tensed up like a statue while you gasped for air before you let go in a loud cry of his name, the blissful waves washing over you for a few moments longer and relaxing you steadily as Yoongi guided you through it by leisurely lapping up your release and caressing your thigh in a soothing motion until you fell limp in the soft pillows. You tried to steady your staggering breath and racing heart while also trying to regain some vision after squeezing your eyes shut so tight you were seeing white dots everywhere.

“Oh, fuck me…Holy shit…” you managed to sigh out inbetween heavy pants, staring at the ceiling in shock. You didn’t even know you were physically capable of coming so hard.

Yoongi finally detached his mouth from your swollen center when you started to tremble in oversensitivity.

You nearly screamed when you saw his face.

“Yoongi! W-what is that?!” you squeaked out before slapping your hand over your mouth in utter surprise.

He casually wiped the excessive amount of your release off his face with the back of his hand, his lips in a cocky smile.

“I didn’t know you were a squirter, ____-,” he snickered, cleaning the last drops around his lips with his tongue, a sight that made you want to sink into the ground even more than you already did.

“I’m not! I’m not a squirter, i don’t squirt!” you squealed almost inaudibly, your eyes still wide in shock as you tried to cover the rest of your face with your hands.

Yoongi just took your hands and pulled them away so he could look at you and smile while he retorted,

“Well, you do now.”

You didn’t know if you were supposed to be impressed or embarrassed, but he didn’t give you much time to decide when he smashed his lips back on yours and you knew damn well he did it so you could taste yourself. You wanted to complain, but once his tongue wrapped itself around yours again, the taste of him mingled with your distinct flavour proved to be strangely pleasant.

“Wait, Yoongi let me-” you started as you reached for his boxers, ready to reciprocate, but he just took your hand and guided it away from them.

“There’s plenty of time for that later,” he interrupted you, but shoved his underwear down regardless, “right now i just need to be inside you.”

Your heart skipped with excitement, already taking pity on your poor, oversensitive core in advance but also dying to have him fill you up, to be full of him.

You pushed him down into the pile of blankets, straddling his hips with your knees and reaching for his shaft with your hand.

“Wait what-” he began, but this time it was your turn to shut him up with your lips while you gave him a few jerks with your hand, groaning when you felt how thick he was, and placed his tip at your entrance.

His eyes went wide as you steadily guided him inside you, throwing his head back to moan loud and prolongued, his breaths frantically entering and leaving his lungs as he panted while you kept lowering yourself down on his with some effort.

“So-so t-tight, fuck! I kn-knew it-mhm!” he stuttered out, his mouth hanging open wide as he squeezed his eyes shut in ecstasy.

You were too busy concentrating to take him inch by inch, careful not to have him stretch you too much, too fast. Yoongi let you decide your own pace, although it was excruciating for him this way, his hands fisting the blanker underneath him as he desperately tried to hold back his moans, but failed miserably.

When he was finally sheathed inside you completely and you found a comfortable position, you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly at first, testing the waters, but soon picking up speed when the stretch didn’t sting anymore and made place for a delicious, full feeling. You could feel him, the throbbing of the blood rushing through his veins, the heat of his skin, the shape of his head, everything.

A whimper of his name escaped your lips as you tossed your head back and started riding him properly, circling your hips and forcing him deeper and further so you could feel him in every corner.

Yoongi couldn’t take it anymore, no matter the steady rhytm, no matter how deep you took him until his eyes rolled back in his head, he needed it to go faster. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding on to your hip before he started snapping his hips up into you at a frantic speed, sound of skin slapping on skin filling the room and hitting all the good spots all over again, making your orgasm build up again that much faster and easier.

“Fuck,” he growled, panting, before grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up, making you lay on your back so he could take your legs and stretch them out in front of him, his arms wrapped around them as he drilled into you, keeping up the rhythm and not losing any of the speed or strength of his thrusts for even a second.

You could make out a sheen of sweat on his skin, moans and whimpers endlessly falling from both your lips as he kept going. He went so hard and deep and it felt so good you felt tears stinging at your eyes, your climax looming around the corner, especially when he lifted your hips up even higher to hit you from an angle that had your back arching and your toes curling once more.

“Y-Yoongi i-i’m going to-” you moaned in intervals, his hard thrusts having you go back and forth but he kept you in place with his arms, his hips colliding with your ass over and over and it would’ve hurt if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his legs shaking with his approaching orgasm.

“Me-me too, baby…I’m-fuck!” he panted, exhausted and on the brink of his downfall as it took only a few more of his thrusts to have you both coming undone, pushing eachother over the edge as he buried himself balls deep and you clenched yourself around his girth while he unloads himself inside of you with a last groan, his cock twitching against your walls as he spurted loads of white into you before he collapsed on top of you. Lazy pecks peppered along your jaw and neck as you tried to recuperate from your own, second orgasm in such a short time.

After you laid there for a few minutes, coming down from your highs and thoughtlessly caressing random parts of eachother’s bodies, he finally pulled out of you and stood up to get you a soft towel to clean you up with.

“God damn, Min Yoongi,” you sighed as he wiped the remains of both your release from your inner thighs and very sensitive center.

“I know right,” he responded, the smile on his lips audible in his voice and instantly making you smile in return.

“That was…Just…Wow,” you babbled, still too high on bliss to be able to talk properly.

He laid himself down beside you, pulling you into a hug for a post-sex snuggle. His heat felt so comforting.

“Will you be my valentine today?” he snickered, as if he was making a joke.

“The day is almost over though.”

You felt him nod against your hair before he pulled back a little, gently taking your chin between his fingers and making you look up at him. You scrunched your brows in confusion, sensing the sudden serious mood when you watched something flicker in his eyes.

“What about the next one?” he asked, his voice still a bit husky and no trace of mockery or anything else that could indicate this being a joke.

“What?”

“And the one after that?”

It suddenly started to dawn on you…Was he really asking you what you thought he was asking you?

“Yoongi…Are you saying-”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” again, no hint of a joke. Nothing at all. Just two eyes staring at you intensely and a hopeful smile on his lips. Nothing has ever felt more right.

You nodded, your mouth too busy gaping at him to form words, but he figured to put it to good use as he pulled you in for another one of those slow, but loving kisses that seemed to last a lifetime.

When you finally separated your lips from each other before they started to hurt, you couldn’t suppress the wide grin on both of your faces and you chuckled as you gently flicked him on the forehead while saying,

“I’d love to, idiot.”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

We have an emergency sickness...

This will cause COVID to eradicate quicker despite hospital interventions.

This will cause vomiting of good people Only -- enough of one good meal then possible other random symptoms such as sweating and/or pain and nausea. And diarrhea and coughing. And sleepiness. It is very limited to one evening/part of day.

It will cause eradication of unheavenly and extreme evil.

This is due to Bobbys death yesterday. One hero down y'all. So we all gotta be heroes. The babies will be born in 80 days. And COVID simply doesn't have enough time.

It won't cause many long term symptoms except coughing or sneezing.

It will cause the "zombie outbreak" of people that have COVID which is a sleepy brainless feeling that we will also experience.

I felt the zombie first when I woke. Then Vomited (threw up). Steven vomited then felt the zombie effect. Just sleeping is fine.

This is how I explained the Corona from the beginning. So testing will show a false positive if it isn't an antibody and illness test like those in London England, Ireland, and other upper European countries.

So if you need/want off work then don't get the antibody test. If you have to get back to work, get the antibody test.

We will not obtain the tests that are done in Europe. Because this is the United States and the government will supply cash funds due to those being ill and needing to take off work. If they do not Then they will not obtain the tests in Europe without an extreme war taking place. Russia will stand in the way of the United States to protect that side of the world.

To mimic the way the blood steam does begin to dry out the intestines will empty for those of the good. It is a virus and as soon as they're empty both ways then you're fine and shouldn't test positive after two to four days.

Because it isn't speeding up the Mummyfication process, quarantine is still important world wide.

Because hospitals will begin to be overwhelmed.

When i have a sunburn over a tan then that will cause the Mummyfication process to be speeded up to where they will die within one to three days of contact.

Tree says 35 days that will begin to be noticed by health practitioners.

Good people will see they have a shade of a tan by one level. Some may not notice at all. But some may. Health benefits that would occur from a seasonal tan of a healthy style will be in the body naturally. And will continue to feed the body. For us that is when we know that quarantine should be over.

So look to girls whom wear make up. Beauty influencers that always have the perfect shade match and see the difference in that one level. So y'all guys and gals that wear a colored skin protecting layer over their faces for whatever personal reason and are like insta famous -- please do complain.

At this point its safe to go out and spread the disease and not over whelm hospitals.

They will have had the zombie effect or a shade of, people whom need to naturally die because they do not belong to the Earth and so they will not feel the need to go to the hospital and will actually feel absolutely fine but a bit sluggish in their minds or so on and will think sleep will help like it did for the Zombie effect.

And then they will die in their sleep them spontaneously combust into a gold glitter.

No hospitals should take them as the hospitals will see the combustions themselves and will realize that there's no cure nor any reason to treat.

But for now Quarantine 2020 is still mandatory for bodies as the hospitals will become overloaded.

Again this is a simple "gripe water" or Gatorade treatment.

Children will get this disease and they will vomit. In school. Not at home. Only in public school. And in private school. Home school children will not be effected except they will be sleepy more often. They should be allowed to sleep.

Schools doing online schooling with say zoom. Should have meetings no earlier than noon and no later than 10 pm. They should only expect 3 hours of schooling to be done per day. And they may find that is excessive for some k - 12.

Some may only be able to focus for 45 minutes of schooling per day especially of new material.

This is where you'll want to do "block" scheduling like Penn and Foster where they are only doing one class at a time. So you'll want to do only one class or subject per day. In some occasions 2.

So for reading and writing you'll want to combine it with Science, especially. From there you'll do grammer and comprehensive skills. As well as spelling and writing such as one or two sentences for questions.

It will be school time when people begin to spontaneously combust and the children that are of a double gene that is unearthly will begin to die first. This is so they are not left without parents.

182,061 in/from Valencia County total will spontaneously combust. Or die from regular COVID.

Ghosts are also spending 20 minutes with extreme neasua they will provide the Mummyfication aspect of the disease and they will begin to spread it as of now as soon as they get ill.

I am the Queen of the Planet and I have already contracted and spread the disease and King Byron has began to spread it in the ghost world.

So Zulululu. You're fucking welcome. You shouldn't had killed him. This is how and why we made this disease as it is.

There is no stopping it and if i am killed all occupants of the Earth that do not deserve to live on the planet will immediately die.

Bees sting once and die.

I do mass extinctions like I learned from you Zulululu from killing our dinosaurs, minute men and Great Trees.

So fuck off about that. You don't want to mess with me. Accept it and stay in your fucking houses. Hospitals will kill you with some extreme and obscene ways. Although they're not supposed to. But they have been because you've been working in them. And we've caught you hundreds of times and I know its been done millions.

And so patients should not be admitted but sent home to hydrate and take Advil and gas x. As well as heartburn medication. Some may take propranalol or other blood pressure medication for their comfort. 89% should be prescribed heart blood pressure medication despite any symptoms they show.

Any blood pressure medication is fine but propranalol and others tree will update with cause a calming mental effect and increases emotional stabilization.

Sinus pressure medication for some as they will feel like they are continuously being punched in the face. At up to 12 pills per day. One every hour they're awake. Some every two hours. It will only work up to 9 days so no point to prescribe past that amount. Some it will only work for 4. This can also be bought over the counter.

Again the shelves will be depleted of supplies at major retailers through September 2020 and only medication made in Ecuador saved slave ships will be available. The slaves human trafficked where stolen from Africa and Ecuador had saved them and returned them home.

So you white supremacy, those pills were all touched and breathed on by black people. And you should know.

So this disease is now spread by ghosts and good people will test positive in some locations as,they are carriers

We will all obtain a stomach/gastrointestinal virus that we must eliminate from our bodies immediately.

To remind you to keep evil people at bay and away from you and to remember they will be eliminated soon.

We have had to speed up the process. So the twins can be born.

I've chosen Sukkot Eve as their birthdate. I pronounce it Suck it. Although that isn't as it was originally pronounced which is Sock It. Now is sock-ought.

We are gonna sock these fuckers in the face and eliminate them.

Stay out of the hospitals if you're a good person they're too dangerous and you'll have to wait until Christmas to return to life.

Royals will return on the last day of Sukkot.

Google will tell you a good truth .... The end of the story was we kept all the BAD people in these structures then lit them on fire as they slept. And they died.

Which is why I chose this Jewish Holiday. For my children I've been pregnant with for 18 years to be born on.

By birthday does fall during the week of the Sukkot celebrations.

We did celebrate and drink and eat and party with them to say good bye. As they were all two faced and both of evil and good.

True earthlings are only capable of good and do not have the ability to be two faced.

Most of us have learned how to be in order to survive.

Most especially the Royals. And even Tree.

And it isn't right. And so we will take over the Earth and the governments and fix it. Includinf Crystal Lakes and rivers and oceans. Perfect hazy skies to block the UV of the sun (like Jupiter or Saturn) and clouds. And the world will again be paved with gold and we will have gardens of Eden all across the globe. No more deserts and no more suffering.

In order to do so we must remove those that destroyed it in the first place as well as their families and friends.

Many Earthlings are genetically half human and half alien. The human half does take presidency if in fact the SOUL inhabitant is of Original Earthling status.

Such as my children that chose to be born in order to help the world fight to survive and were created in a lab that is of half alien and half human. Human is the main component.

Now the last day of Sukkot the DNA will change of those that are half human and half alien and The alien partition will remove and they will become full human. Then their bodies will revive as they should look. And so basically the body removes an exoskeleton of hell.

This is caused for the human ghosts to now be allowed to spread the disease. So that the schedule can remain steady.

99% of alien inhabitants will be dead by Sukkot Eve 2020.

The rest will fall away on the last day of Sukkot. As the 1% are Just half alien genetic codes.

So hospitals you must prepare to write prescriptions and send people home or you will be overwhelmed.

Im not gonna sit here and warn and discuss it.

Its a fact. These fuckers are gonna die and they need to die at home.

There's nothing anyone can do. Bodies will not traditionally bloat and stink. They will begin to mummify themselves regardless if they're alive or not until they are able to spontaneously combust on their own.

This is because 36 ghosts came back to life only to be cremated and assist in a suicide of one of the worlds greatest military combat veterans.

Semper Fi

Hoorah. And hip hop hooray!

Morgues I wouldn't even bother. Just load them up in trucks and let them sit.

[deythbanger]

Comedy: Anger

By DeYtH Banger I have anger issues… I get it… my family is not stable… my mom is a fucker who is sick for cocks as for my dad… fuck 'em… dead or life..  just a cup of semen. I hope this fuck rot in hell. I like people who are blind it's fucking awesome ..  they have less issues than other people… + plus deaf people are fun… less vision… lowe standards. Some people go on round take life serious, fuck 'em… all of them… each by each… single by single. I hate mom telling me, take life serious my friends…  aka parents… I won't take life seriously… I got one life … I took life seriously in my early young age… I went as far with the circle of depression and anxiety episodes… I was nearly mentality disfunctional. Here is one thing children getting killed by car… it's not bad… it's fucking awesome… we need to hit more from those fucks..  what we get from those set of tests is that they are brainless zombies. Okay… that's the conclusion… brainless… greedy… selfish pricks… - I want tablet - I want candies - I want Iphone - I want new set of toys - I want this new thing - I want new phone - I want new computer SO FUCK YIU GO TO HELL AND LEAVE ME ALONE GREEDY BASTARD … STOP FUCKING AROUND! I hate people who stutter What's wrong with those guys? Your mom didn't love you enough? Your father is a badboy? What's wrong… here is the thing… I son't care… you have in tour pocket excuse and THIS FUCKING EXCUSE IS STOPPING YOU FROM SUCESS Rape… what's fun in that here is the thing… nothibg that's come here and make it fun. First of all reason of rape too fucking horny at first place. Second of all why we all are suprise… and impressed of all this rape bullshit? Here is the thing young men was out he had urges which he couldn't anynore control and a young woman… with a sexy clothes… He couldn't repress those set of urges and more… and he went up to her full on… FUCKING FULL ON JUST FUCKING FULL ON AND THEN HE WAS CLEARLY WITH DICK ON HORNY AS HELL AND HE WAS DEFINETLY ALPHA AND DOMINATING AND WHY THAT COUNTS AS RAPE AND OTHER SUCESS LAY STORIES COUNT AS NORMAL IS AS INTERESTING AS MORE PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED INTO PORN! IT'S DEFINETLY OBSESSIVE AND COMPULSIVE WHY AM I ANGRY? MHM WHY NOT IGNORACE FAKE REALITY SOCIAL MEDIA IS THIS ENOUGH TO MOVE ON THE NEXT TOPIC? I don't like phone calls… those shit brings… massive amount of anxiety…. Fucking massively! Screw up… yup I was screw up in my life because: 1) I took life seriously 2) I was tryingbto apply morality 3) Religion (Fiction Shit) FUCK ALL EXPERTS FUCK ALL THOSE DATING AND GURU EXPERTS… FUCK 'EM I have seen all 'em! People want respect… but do they deserve it? Fuck this topic, let's move on..! Now I want to give lesson to all of you… fucking all of you… look at yourself.. look how much things you have done… look how much fucking opportunity you have missed… mainly because of your ego and scarcity mindset. What I can say is the person who stopping himself from yourself is you…it's you! How did went one case with a girl… when I wanted to talk to a group of girls… MY MIND GAVE ME CALL IT WENT AS FUCKED UP AS MY LEGS GOT SHAKING NOW HOW DO YOU MAKE THIS MARK AS CONFIDENCE… HOW DO YOU TURN IT TO THIS SHIT WHILE YOUR FRIEND IS CONTINUEING TO BE A THORY JUNKIE AND THE OTHERS ARE FUCKING AROUND… BOT ANSWERING CALLS… ANSWERING CALLS FUCK EM ONE BY ONE THOSE WHO FUCK AROUND ARE THE GUYS WHO GET CHICJS THE OTHER DUDES ARE JUST THE CROWD… WITH DICKS ON AND BEING NICE STOP BEING NICE GROW UP