blue raspberry slurpee

anonymous asked:

Do the same conflicts still happen in modrn thedas or is it just all our favorite characters chilling in the modern day?

as a setting? yeah. we can’t undermine the effects of centuries (or however long) of prejudice/oppression towards mages and non-human races and the conflicts/wars that thedas has had between it’s people. the templars’ addictions, the seekers’ lies, mages’ fears, the dalish’s struggles, the dwarves’ declining, the qunari’s misconstructions; hatred between nations, nations’ violent and terrible actions … all of that is easily carried into modern settings, either in equivalence or as history. bad things don’t disappear like that.

as a blog? we are chilling. we’re sera with her feet on a table & drinking a blue raspberry slurpee.

- mod rain

9

We had a fun afternoon in Vulcan, Alberta! Checked out all the Star Trek stuff, went by the Trekcetera Museum, saw Leonard Nimony’s bust (that’s Spock by the way) and Diva tried to pee on it.. 🙈😂 I didn’t let her of course! We stopped and got a blue raspberry slurpee, yam fries and chicken with chipotle sauce, Diva helped herself to some of my chicken of course.. 🙈🍗 we walked around some more, saw a gorgeous painting on the side of a building and then snapped a few photos went of the USS Enterprise! It was pretty warm out, so we didn’t stay too long! ‘Twas a good day though and Diva of course loved the USS Enterprise so much that she gave the klingon sign below a lick before we left! 🙈😂

The Angel of Darkness Part 1/8

I wanted to do an Avenger fic with an OC and I got the inspiration for the OC’s powers from @spacegaystrashcompactor ‘s story Welcome To The Freak Show. In contrast to the inspiration, my OC starts off as a villain, or at least an anti-hero, it depends on your perspective.  I hope it makes sense, but I’m sure you’ll get it once you read it.

*This is post Civil War, so there might be slight spoilers.*

Summary: A year after the Accords fiasco, Tony reaches for the phone Steve had given him and dials the number he had memorized during sleepless nights. As much as he hated to admit it, only he could help them now. A new threat had appeared and he knew they would need all the help they could get. 

Warning: Swearing, violence, mentions of rape and molestation, blood and gore, mentions of panic attacks, depression, suicide and anxiety. It’s a bit gruesome, if I do say so myself.

Disclaimers: Gifs found on Google, lyrics mentioned are from the song Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez.

I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING MARVEL RELATED. 

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The young woman cackled, her crimson lips stretching upwards. Her features were as sharp as the daggers she held in each hand. She looked back at the man at her feet, making him whimper under her crazy dark gaze. He tried dragging himself away from her. She pouted in mock offense. 

“What? Tired of me already? But I’m your sugar, your doll face. Let me show you a good time.” She smirked, her tone malicious, taunting. The last phrase made the man freeze. He had said those exact words not even an hour ago to his latest victim. His eyes widened. 

“You-You’re her.” He shakily pointed an accusing finger. Her smirk widened. She darted her tongue out to wet her lips. If the gesture hadn’t been in these specific situations, she would appear seductive. But to the man, it was a threat, a promise that he was going to suffer and she would enjoy it. 

“Who am I?” She asked, her voice low and husky. She knew the answer. He knew she knew. But they both knew she was playing her favorite game. 

“The Angel of Darkness.” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper. Her daggers glistened in the dark. 

“Such a lame name. But yes, that’s me.” She winked and slashed his chest open with the dagger in her right hand. The man gasped in pain. 

“Please! I won’t do anything like that ever again! I won’t hurt anyone! I swear! Please!” He pleaded, his voice agonizingly pained. She frowned in fake sympathy, her bottom lip slightly jutted out. 

“Oh, I know you wont. You’ll be too dead to do anything.” She sneered, plunging both daggers into his chest. The man spluttered blood and widened his eyes in pain. He gripped her arms with as much force he could muster and tried speaking. 

Then, he fell limp to the ground. She rolled her eyes and took out both daggers unceremoniously. Grabbing a cloth from her back pocket, she wiped the blood off and threw it on top of the bloodied body at her feet. 

I’m nuts, baby, I’m mad, the craziest friend that you’ve ever had. You think I’m psycho, you think I’m gone, tell the psychiatrist something is wrong. So what if I’m crazy? The best people are.” She sang her favorite lyrics softly to herself while walking towards the exit of the dark alley. She grabbed the bag she had dropped earlier and stored the- now clean -weapons. 

No one suspected the short, petite young woman coming out of the dark alley so late at night, a smudge of dark red just above the corners of her pouty lips. 

The next morning, she was gone. Not a trace left of her as the news papers and broadcasts showcased her handiwork in big black letters. She was already a city over, continuing her dark crusade. 

Soon, she had made international news. She had popped all around the globe, her murders and violent acts appearing randomly on the map. No one could pin point a pattern because there was none. One moment she was in Greece, the next she was in Tokyo. 

The UN had formed a team of the world’s best detectives, behaviorism psychologists, psychiatrists, special forces officers, forensic scientists and arms specialists. Yet, they couldn’t find a single lead on her. 

Sometimes she waved at a few security cameras and they’d have a slightly blurry silhouette of a small woman engulfed by black mist. Other times, she used her latest victim’s blood to write taunting messages. 

I like this game!

Found me yet?

You guys are fun to play with! 

How was your day? Mine was bloody brilliant. 

You’re entirely bonkers, but I’ll tell you a secret, all the best people are. - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.

That last one had caused one of the psychologists in the team to reach a diagnosis: She was trapped in her own mind. Her reference, although slightly creepy, was a nod to her psychological state- She was trapped within herself. She did what she did because she believed she had to or she couldn’t help it.

However, they still needed to catch her. She might not be a psychopath, but she sure acted like one. 

The UN were wasting efforts with far too little positive outcomes. They had one option left: The Avengers. If anyone could neutralize such a reckless and dangerous threat, it was them. Even if they were a few members short. 

“Mr. Stark, we trust you will do everything in your power to bring this murderess to justice.” General Ross had sternly told Tony Stark. 

Tony Stark had barely slept in the past year. Ever since the fall out with the other half of the team, his panic attacks had become more frequent. He barely slept and Pepper hadn’t been around very often either- they were still on a break - so he was either alone or helping Rhodey with physiotherapy. 

He called the remaining members of the Avengers and briefed them on their new mission. He called Peter to give him a heads up. He wouldn’t forgive himself if the kid encountered this mad woman and got hurt along the way. 

Meanwhile, the petite, shadowy assassin was happily walking down the streets of New York, sipping on a blue raspberry slurpee she had bought at a small vintage diner. She smiled sadly to herself. If only her life were this simple and mundane. 

She walked towards Central Park, a place she had always wanted to visit. She finished the beverage and threw the empty plastic cup in the nearest trash bin, walking in through the main entrance of the park. She put her ear buds in and hummed lightly to the tunes flowing through it. 

Music was her favorite way to cope with the loud voices in her head. She’d be damned if she payed them any more attention. They made her do horrible things. Things she wouldn’t do if she could help it. Some times she wished they would make her do it all to herself.

But she knew it wasn’t her fault, she had been someone else’s lab rat. 

Yes, she was a victim once. Some would argue she still is. She had been taken by Nazi German scientists a long, long time ago and transformed into the perfect spy. They had tried to put her under their control and succeeded. Or so they thought. 

She had managed to overcome their programming long enough to escape. But, alas, they still had a grip on her. She had tried for several years to get rid of the programming, but she had no memory of what her triggers were and how they worked. She was living in constant fear of being triggered at the wrong moment in the wrong place. 

She continued walking through the breathtakingly beautiful park until the sun started to set. She quickly left once she noticed the change of colors in the sky. Darkness was both her ally and her enemy. Most incidents happened during night time. 

Once she arrived at the small apartment she had rented, she locked all doors and barricaded all windows. It wouldn’t be enough to hold her back, but it could delay her and give her some time to try and regain control. Once she was completely locked in, she walked into the area that would have been a living room.

She hadn’t bothered with furniture, seeing as she would probably be leaving in a week. 

She skimmed through her phone’s many playlists and settled for one her newer ones. It had proven to be helpful with coping. She plugged the device to her speaker system and turned the volume up to the maximum. Thankfully, the building she had chosen to live in was mostly vacant except for a couple who lived three floors up and the owner who lived on the first floor. 

She sat in the middle of the room, letting the music flood her senses. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on memorizing the lyrics to the songs. Focusing her mind helped hold back her demons. 

This time, however, it wasn’t working. She was sweating profusely, trying to maintain control. Pain shot through her skull, causing a blood curling scream. If the music playing wasn’t so loud, she was sure the whole block would have heard her. 

She fought for what seemed like hours before she stopped struggling all together. Her eyes reopened to reveal two black orbs instead of her natural grey colored eyes. 

To be continued….



A/N:So, I hope you guys liked the first part of this fic. It sure is a lot darker than what I’m used to writing. I apologize if it was too dark for you. I might be posting Part 2 some time this weekend if I can. Uni/College has been a pain in the butt and more exams are coming up now that we’re closer to the end of the semester. 

If you guys see any mistakes, please inform me. I haven’t edited yet. Thank you!

Anyways, thanks for reading! 

PART 2