echo snake

LOYAL || Mafia!Seungcheol [Chp 6 (II)]

BLURB: In which SVT is the Robin Hood of mafia gangs and you’re the gang leader’s little sister.

GENRE: action, au!mafia, fantasy, romance, family

WORDS: 948

PART: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (pt. I) | 6 (pt. II) | 7 [Epilogue]


“HANBIN!” Namjoon’s voice echoed through the vast room, bouncing off the walls.

“Hyung?” the boys got to their feet shakily. “Is that Namjoon hyung?”

“HANBIN YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF MINE!” he continued to holler. “I want it back!”

Namjoon was breathing heavily and practically shook with anger. The look on his face was pure evil.

“Oppa!” you cried. When he spotted you guys his temper flared.

“HANBIN YOU COWARD!” he roared. “ANSWER ME!”

“Alright, alright, calm down.” All eyes shot up to a metal platform hanging in the air. On it, Hanbin was walking leisurely, a lazy grin on his face. He leaned down to stare at Namjoon. “I heard you barking, mutt.”

Namjoon growled. “Come down here and fight it out like a man.”

“Mmm… I would do that, but… You know me. I like it when the odds are in my favour.”

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itaweasel-hime  asked:

(hi this is pissbabysithlord rolling into your inbox to offer a humble prompt) HOW DID DEMON REY MEET FATHER KYLO? (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ i wanna know

WELL HERE YOU GO!! May not be what you expected!! 8D

——-

“Kid’s a fucking idiot.”

“He has no idea what he’s doing.”

“He’s Vader’s grandchild, though.”

“Vader was a fool.”

“Even so, shouldn’t that be worth something?”

“Since when is merit won by bloodline? What kind of soft, monarchic bullshit is that- have you forgotten what side of Eternity you’re on?”

The demons coalesced in and out of each other, more or less huddled, around the 17 year old who worked in secret in his uncle’s attic, with a book he never should have found.

He was an easy target- opened wide to the powers of the other side with zero training in how to control it. They enjoyed messing with him, moving his things around when he turned his back, flipping to the wrong pages. In the beginning, he fell for that one a lot, and they’d laughed loudly when he’d summon some odd, grotesque thing after meshing two different chants together. He’d gotten mostly wise to that trick, though, so they’d had to come up with other means of entertaining themselves.

“I think he’s just young,” came an airier voice.

“Pfft,” another scoffed. “Agaraesh only likes him because Vader used to hang around with that primordial buffoon.”

“Obi Wan was not a buffoon!” Agaraesh exclaimed. “He knew more than all of you combined! He’d know what do with another Skywalker trying to break into this realm.”

“Newsflash, Rae, he’s a Solo, not a Skywalker.”

“A different last name doesn’t change what’s in his blood.”

“Maybe not….but names have power. And Skywalker is a name he does not have.”

“Yeah, and it shows.”

As he went to grab a new instrument from the shelf behind him, the pages flipped silently over before fluttering down to stop at 1012.

“Shh, SHH!!” they hushed at each other, and they watched.

The boy, so wrapped up in his spell, thinking his audience was blessedly absent for once, continued on as a green smoke began to swirl over the tome. He frowned.

“That…that’s not supposed to be green,” he muttered, and screamed when thirteen vipers materialized atop his ritual.

The demons were beside themselves, and their satisfaction reeked into the surrounding space.

Agaraesh watched as the boy backed himself against the bookshelf, hands clinging to it, as his chest heaved. His mind was practically humming as it worked to think of an incantation to at least freeze the aggressive beasts. Eyes wide and arm shaking, he held out his hand towards them. The demons grew rapt. He took in a breath.

“Fríesende!!” he commanded. There was a pause, but the vipers still persisted, slithering amongst each other, slowly flicking out their forked tongues and honing in on the boy’s fear. The demons were in an uproar, falling over each other, as much as incorporeal being could, over the apparent failure.

Agaraesh was frustrated. Moving close to him, the demon rested its lips close to his ear.

“Try ‘aþ’ as your ending….” it purred, and instantly his hand shot over his ear in a panic, pulling at it desperately as the vipers moved closer.

“I’d try it quickly, too,” Agaraesh continued, “They’re already within striking distance…”

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This is my boyfriend’s lesser pastel ball python Hermes. He’s only three months old. such a sweet heart :) 

Reality Check

By winchestersandwordprocessors

Warnings: Implied non-con (Sam/Lucifer).

Words: ~10000

Summary: Sometime after Castiel knocked down the wall in Sam’s mind it became apparent to the younger Winchester that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could never put Sammy back together again. Sam began hearing Lucifer, seeing him during the day as well as the night, his life slowly melting into a stream-of-consciousness nightmare.In a rusted out warehouse Dean gave Sam a way to cope- the physical sensation of here-and-now pain helped to block out the mental agony of Satan in his head, scratching away at Sam’s resistance. But what happened when Sam’s hand healed and pain was no longer available as a distraction?Well, Dean comes up with a solution to that too, one that ends with nightmares broken, lips locked together, and bodies pressed against each other on the hood of the Impala out under the stars.This is the story of how Sam losing his grip on reality ended up giving the Winchester brothers the greatest reality check of their lives. (Loosely based around 7x02)

 ==========================

Time always fractured strangely for hunters, measured not in hours and minutes but in beats of a heart, in survivors interviewed, in lives lost, in people saved. Hunters went days without sleep, too long without being called by their real name- like the superheroes of old, their identity cradled close to the chest- went weeks or months or years without speaking publicly of the truth.

Hunters lived on the fringe, they walked along the razor’s edge of the abyss, that fine line between right and wrong, life and death; hunters danced in the grey area, the place of suspended morals and truths and reality.

Sam had grown up on that line, had cut his teeth on the cold steel of a hunter’s life; when his reality shifted it was so subtle that even he wondered if it was happening. He had been and seen and done so much that surely there was nothing left for his imagination left to invent, the well-spring of fictional terrors run dry, the bogeyman consumed by the horrors that truly do go bump in the night.

He was wrong.

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anonymous asked:

Talon Genji + Mercy, you know you want to (also I love your writing <3)

I do and I hate it not really drown me in Talon Genji x Mercy


Coldness

Gency. Talon!Genji. Angst. 

During a mission, they encounter Talon, but most importantly, they encounter Blood Dragon.

Mercy is distracted, watching the black and red blur instead of her teammates. Doing her best to put the mission and her team first, she follows after Tracer, but gets left behind as she blinks away.

She’s almost ready to join back into the fight, when a shuriken slices against the skin on her throat, but only the skin. She barely breathes, knowing that he’s found her.

She stumbles backwards, getting out her pistol, but she’s attacked by a demon. Her pistol are knocked aside and suddenly she’s on her knees. Trying to control her heart rate, she feels the very edge of a sword brush against her neck. Almost a gentle movement were it not for the cold steel making her tremble.

The edge of the sword moves under her chin, and lifts her head to gaze upwards at the man she once only felt love for. Now, all the guilt and fear paralyzes her body. His crimson visor flashes dangerously at her, but he only stays still. Looking at her as if they’re too strangers who have just crossed paths. 

“Genji…”

She doesn’t even register the movement until the pain blossoms on her right cheek. A light cut. A warning. The sword resting back under her chin once again.

She swallows against the pressure of the blade, her lips quivering as she breathes. Her mind racing as to find a way to save herself but its as if her veins have stopped caring of survive. Her heart beats for him, burning in the agony of what he’s become.

She saved him once, she can do it again.

“Talon isn’t your home… come back to us. Please… I—We’ll help you. Do you really want this? Do you really want to kill and destroy like they’re forcing you to? That’s not you…”

Blood Dragon says nothing. Silent as his blade whenever he cuts down an unsuspecting victim. Cold as the black gleaming armor that controls his muscles. Still as the crimson that marks his body as Talon’s.

Since he first let Overwatch, since he first left her, a hole has been occupying her chest. Eating away at lungs and heart. It never stops being, or ever gets filled, but at the sight of the man she once loved, and still does, it comes alive as a black hole. Destroying her ribs and veins. 

The black hole allows a tear to seep through her eyelashes as she trembles under the pressure inside of her.

“Genji, what did they do to you?”

Its in a second that doesn’t really seem to happen, but his hand is gripping her jaw and jerking her close. His mask only inches away as the dark red floods onto her skin. Soft, metallic hissing like that of snake echoes in her ears.

“They showed me the monster you really are.”

Her hands have gripped his wrist, but its only an illusion for her minds sake. She feels his touch, the coldness seeping into her jawbone. The steel strength coursing through him. His hold is firm, but she knows he could break her if he truly wanted to. A part of her wishes he would. To end her endless fight and crumble the mountain of guilt she can never stop climbing. To finally let her torn open heart rest.

“Then kill me.” She whispers, closing her eyes. Meaning every word. If she can’t save him, she will not live. 

Its still, and silent. She waits for his other hand to deliver his blood red blade into her heart, but it never comes. Her eyelids flutter, but never open. She doesn’t want to see him like this anymore.

Then a sound, a sheathing of some kind. She stays still, waiting for the finally blow. It does not come.

The bangs that frame her face move in the slightest, a pressure as light as a butterflies kiss. The softest pet upon her hair. 

The sensation disappears just as his hand does. The sudden lack of pressure on her jawbone releasing the pain that was caused. 

Coldness presses in on her skin. She opens her eyes, only to find herself alone.

Hunger Games AU (Part 6)

Title: Glass in pieces
Fandom: BTS-fandom / A.R.M.Y.
Pairing: Jikook (+ many implied or not-just-implied bro-ships, like: Jihope, NamSeok, NamJin, NamYoon)
Warning: language, blood mention, death mention, wounds, angst, alcoholism, mentioned depression and suicidal ideation, quite explicit flashbacks about prostitution, poorly written action scenes
Rating: W for whale in District 3
Word Count: 3 385
Summary: Jikook + Hunger Games. Brace yourselves, memories are coming. Long monologues about dark themes & story-time on a top of a tree about obsessions and whales.
Sequel to these: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Author’s Note:
I don’t know anymore what I’m even writing. It’s really getting out of hands. O__o Also, yes, JYP is the President and I’m totally not sorry. :D Oh and there is an One Piece reference because #animetrashlife

Part 7, Part 8 , Part 9

Jimin studies Hoseok’s wound with a competent gaze what slowly wanders to a small backpack next to the older boy.

“What is in your backpack, Hoseok-hyung? Do you have something to sterilize the wounds?”

“Yes, I have iodine.” Hoseok is still so surprised by the hidden turn, he moves without thinking and places the tiny vial into Jimin’s – his new ally’s – hand. “Also, uh, feel free to call me Hobi. It’s shorter.”

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I couldn’t resist making Echo an Orochi High student! She’s my weirdest child, so I had to draw her. @orochihigh there needs to be a huffy grounds keeper who throws things every time the arboreal or fossorial snakes have too much fun.


Echo is an odd sand boa. She can frequently be found climbing all of the school signs and trees just because she can. She may be small and getting to those bottom limbs may be hard, but it’s worth it to be a tall tree snake. She truly believes that should have been born a tree boa. An Amazon tree boa probably. They’re pretty cool.  It doesn’t matter that she’s better at falling than climbing. She dreams big for a baby worm!

But at the end of the day, nothing beats burrowing into the ground and making tunnels everywhere. Except knocking things down as she goes. That’s the best part about burrowing.

Echo’s favorite marking is the dinosaur on the top of her head. She can never decide which dinosaur it is, so she rotates through all of her favorite dinosaurs, but on Monday, it’s always a velociraptor. Next to Amazon tree boas, dinosaurs are Echo’s favorite things.

During dinner time, Echo likes to poke her food a few times. Maybe five just to be sure it’s food. She’ll pick it up and drop it in a new place just for good measure too. Once she’s ready to eat, it’s down the hatch–after doing a back bend, that is! Yes, Echo is one of those enlightened snakes that figured out how to use the ground to her advantage. Once dinner is in place, she bends over backwards and shoves her food into the ground so she can eat it faster. There’s no time to waste when there’s dirt to burrow in and things to climb!

The mighty hunter

Sure snakes are supposedly these great hunters and predators and all. But I literally just watched Oracle chew on a feeder’s hind foot and tail for 20 minutes before she figured out how to get it down. And Echo 100% did a nose dive into her water dish and tried to drown herself for a solid 30 seconds before she got out of the water.

10

GAME OF THRONES: SEASON 5, EPISODE 4

Winter is coming. All men must die. And Game of Thrones is back! Stay tuned each week as we unpack Sunday’s episodes through masterpieces. 

A queen empowers the militant faithful, identified by star-branded foreheads, part of a ritualistic scarification. Impurities of all sorts are cleansed in public spaces, and restraint privileged. A fiery priestess seduces a young leader, while elsewhere quiet conversations in a crypt echo key backstory. Sand snakes whip themselves up in preparation for vengeance, while on a nearby beach knights on foot go at it with soldiers on horseback. A bloodbath between eunuchs and masked men rounds out a good-but-not-so-feel-good episode. 

This week’s wildcard image comes from the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.

Dive deeper with featurettes connecting life in the Middle Ages to fantasy TV.