god do i want to see this

  • [SETTING - before naruto and sasuke hooked up. sasuke is pining]
  • sasuke: ok look at this text naruto sent me [hands phone over]
  • sakura: .... so?
  • sasuke: do you not see the "hey" with two y's??
  • sakura: i do? whats the big deal
  • suigetsu, yelling from the other room: IT MEANS HE WANTS SASUKES DICK
  • sasuke: like, its not "hey" its "heyy......". its flirty, okay? god arent you, like, a girl. arent girls supposed to know these things? why are you being useless right now
  • sakura: ok. first of all. are you interpreting the texts of your best friend since childhood based on straight guy memes
  • sasuke: i'm- fuck off, sakura. of COURSE not. this is just, like. using your brain and analyzing semantics-
  • sakura: cut the bs, sasuke
  • suigetsu: HEY I MEAN HE HANGS OUT WITH KIBA AND HES A JOCK ITS NOT THAT UNLIKELY THAT HE FOLLOWS THE DUDEBRO GUIDE FOR TEXTING
  • sakura: its *naruto* hes like the most excited guy alive after lee and hes your best friend of course hes going to be nice it doesnt MEAN any-
  • suigetsu: OH SHIT SHOW HER THAT TEXT W THE WINKY FACE AND THE WATER DROPS HE SENT YOU, SASUKE
  • sasuke: [takes the phone back, searches it for a bit and hands it back to her]
  • [narutos text: sasuke ik u hate the gym but its so boringgggg wo u there pls come sweat w me 😜😜💦 pls ill do anythign ill make it fun for u!!!!😉😉💪]

LAURA: There’s definitely going to be ghosts there. Kashaw?

WILL: Yeah?

LAURA: Do your holy shit when we go there, all right?

WILL: I will absolutely do my holy shit. You don't want to see the god, but we’ll do the rest of the holy shit. We’ll be fine.

LAURA: Oh, really? Is it not Sarenrae? Sarenrae, is that your god?

WILL: No.

TRAVIS: No, he’s married, remember?

LAURA: You’re married to a god?! Wait, you're married and you–

MARISHA: Wait. We didn’t have that conversation with her.

WILL: Yeah, we didn’t. For the record, she married me, and there’s a difference.

SAM: You’re married?

WILL: Technically.

MARISHA: I don’t know if that holds up in court, Vesh.

WILL: She’s not really going to care about court so much as ripping the bones from your back.

woconutty  asked:

Do you have any songs in mind you'd like to see NSP cover if they did a Volume 3? Personally I'd love to hear them do Under Pressure

Wouldn’t It Be Nice or God Only Knows by the Beach Boys. Fly Like An Eagle by the Steve Miller Band. Need You Tonight by INXS. Dream Weaver by Gary Wright. Killer Queen by Queen. Sweet Dreams or Here Comes the Rain Again by Eurythmics. Don’t You Want Me by The Human League. Maneater by Hall & Oates. As the World Falls Down or Underground by David Bowie from The Labyrinth. Wishing Well by Terance Trent D'Arby. Rock the Casbah by The Clash. In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins. Mad World the Gary Jules slower version not Tears For Fears even though that’s sacrilegious.

….that’s a good UtC3 right there, to me! Also just basically any song ever. Please.

Y’all listen. Listen to me. I reject that “nextgen” art. It’s ugly. It’s not canon.

Jude Heartfilia did not take Layla’s last name for Lucy to have a daughter with that fucking pink hair.

Layla did not die still young and beautiful so Lucy could have a daughter with that fucking pink hair.

ANNA DID NOT TRAVEL 400 YEARS INTO THE FUTURE SO THE HEARTFILIA LINE  COULD BE BLIGHTED WITH THAT FUCKING PINK HAIR.

It is CANON that Heartfilia girls look a certain way and this is utter nonsense and I do not accept it. I reject it.

This is why I don’t want to see any “nextgen” art of Jerza. Please for the love of every god in existence, Mashima, leave Jerza alone. Don’t doodle some ugly shit like that. Don’t let these crazy fans pressure you into drawing some thoughtless doodle of a Jerza daughter with blue or purple hair or whatever the fuck. ABSOLUTELY NOT KEEP IT OFF MY LAWN FOREVER.

If Erza has a daughter, she will have red hair. Just like her mother. Just like Eileen.

Listen, Eileen did not put Erza into a magical suspended uterus for 400 years and give birth alone in a fucking FOREST so Erza could have a daughter with blue fucking hair and a tattoo on her face.

Eileen did not murder her useless and nameless piece of shit husband so Erza could have a daughter with purple hair.

Absolutely fucking not.

And in case some of y’all missed the point: this isn’t me saying I don’t think Jerza should have kids. Jellal’s sperm has been waiting for their moment. No doubt. But I don’t want to see the children if they’re not going to look right. 

anonymous asked:

Do you think what Lena would see if Psi attacks her?

oh god, so many things come to mind because lena just has so many unresolved issues of her own.

i want to say it would be reliving losing lex, and then eventually seeing herself in lex’s shoes – but like, first it would be all the moments leading to his downfall, and her being unable to stop it. her trying desperately but failing. her being blamed for it. her guilt over it. because in my mind, i think it covers so many of her issues: battling evil, losing someone important, abandonment, and inadequacy. fear of not measuring up, fear of loss, fear of self. i think it would be symbolic of all those things.

there’s also the slight chance, if she remembers it, that she would be right back in that orphanage again…. feeling lost, alone, confused, broken. she was really young when it happened, so maybe this wouldn’t be the case, but i could also see that being a possibility. her most vulnerable, heartbreaking moment happening at just 4 years old. 

great now i’m crying

anonymous asked:

also: completely right that this has bloody Nothing to do with the Other Detective (by which i mean uhhh...jake peralta)

OMG THANK YOU ANON.

It annoys the crap out of me when people thing dgdha has to like… fix Sherlock’s mistakes??

THEY ARE TWO ************COMPLETELY UNRELATED************** SHOWS

I mean - fuck! I’d see more sense if you want dghda to fix some of Doctor Who’s mistakes (dghda was born out of an abandoned DW script after all).

It’s like COR THESE TWO LESBIANS REALLY NEED TO GET IT ON IN STAR TREK BECAUSE PAUL HOLLYWOOD NEVER HAD SUE PERKINS OVER THE BAKE OFF TABLE AND THAT WOULD SOLVE THAT PROBLEM.

anonymous asked:

Ok but like imagine the yandere YJ boys ready to take their love but when there obsession comes to her house and sees them she's all like "Can we do this later I had 2 midterm today and want to sleep because I have no energy to deal with this "

I feel like all of them but be like “Wait what? Why are you not freaking.” She like “Did you not hear me the first time?” And just walks past the yandere towards their room. They have the whole ‘let me fucking sleep till my alarm clock goes off or so help me god.’ vide going on. 

anonymous asked:

if you dont wish to live forever do you believe in an afterlife? do you believe we will live immortal in gods grace? and is that unsettling to you?

Little personal, anon. Hmm. I don’t mind seeing it either as a final sleep or a moment’s rest before waking elsewhere. Either way, final end or not, this is the only life I want. If there is a place waiting beyond all places, it will be a new beginning, and I’ll set off on the next great adventure. If not, I shall sleep, and Rest In Peace.

7

cinnamon roll /ˈsɪnəmən rəʊl/ 
noun
   1. Salim from American Gods

Thoughts and theories post S307

We got a clue to how the different dimensions work. These three dudes are obviously iterations of the same Rick who all encountered the same event in varying degrees of severity. It could just be that these three dimensions are right next to each other, but the numbering convention suggests that they’re true splits from one original dimension, caused by that event. 

If that’s true, it means that every time a major event occurs, timelines splinter into different offshoot possibilities. The Ricks that stay most “normal” keep their original dimension number and the others take on an iteration of that number based on the level of divergence. This also helps account for how the population of the citadel bounced back so quickly after the massacre in S301. As time goes on more splits in dimensions means a constant influx of more Ricks and Mortys.

Not every rick invents the portal gun. The portal gun is rick’s ultimate source of power and what allows the citadel to exist. From what we learned from the half-truths in S301′s portal gun origin backstory, Ricks ostensibly go from dimension to dimension giving portal technology to other Ricks rather than each Rick inventing it on his own. Plus we saw in the last episode that the Mortytown Rick tries and fails to make portal fluid, and cop Rick calls it out “bootleg,” plus the factory Rick demands a portal gun because he must not be able to make one of his own. 

For the Ricks that didn’t invent their own, portal fluid and guns are regulated and not allowed to all Ricks freely. It begs the question of how many Ricks actually invented the portal gun on their own. In theory, it would only take just one figuring it out and then sharing it with all the others.

More evidence for Evil Morty = Rick’s original Morty. This has been a fan theory since Evil Morty first showed up but after S307 the evidence is even stronger. Evil Morty dodges questions about his original dimension and Rick, instead diverting with “we moved around a lot.” That basically leaves the door wide open for the reveal of him being Rick’s og Morty.

Plus, if the moving around part wasn’t a lie, that means he and Rick skipped universes Cronenberg-style more than once (Rick did say he’d pulled that stunt before). Think how disillusioned just one dimension move made our Morty, it’s no wonder Evil Morty turned into what he is if he went through multiple ruined dimensions. Beyond that, our Morty has been shown to be getting more jaded and downright cruel this season, enough that people were thinking he was turning into Evil Morty. If our Morty has devolved into his current state with just being around our Rick for a few years, imagine how the Morty our Rick was around since when he was a baby would have turned out.

Cop Rick is alive for a reason. He killed Cop Morty and turned himself in expecting to be shot off into space, but in the end he’s released by Ricks under evil Morty’s control. Him being alive still is not insignificant, even if just for the narrative and character implications more than plot reasons. 

Cop Rick’s first instinct is to trust. He trusted the Morty in the room with the crib. He trusted Cop Morty to do the right thing. He wants to believe in true justice and the goodness in people, and acts on that belief no matter the outcome for him. 

The real gut punch is he’s not just an outlier. He shows that Ricks do have an infallible sense of justice when it’s not smothered out by narcissism and nihilism. We’ve seen that our Rick, despite being an asshole, will choose to do the right thing- even if it’s the hard thing- at crucial moments: He puts the collar on Morty instead of himself when they’re falling to their deaths in the void, he turns himself in to the Galactic Federation in order to save his family. 

Cop Rick is still alive because he’s the hero our Rick would be if he wasn’t such a jaded asshole. He’s the proof that despite everything, Rick is at his core trying to be good. Maybe that kind of Rick is valuable to Evil Morty, or maybe it was just valuable to us to see this side of Rick so explicitly.

Evil Morty wants control. Evil Morty is living the ideal Morty existence, in control of himself and the universe around him. It’s all he’d want after a life where Rick was always in control, where he could do nothing to stop the machinations of the universe from nearly crushing him every adventure. As we saw really plainly with Copy Morty, when a Morty gets enough knowledge, experience, and freedom, they can’t stand being treated like sidekicks anymore. No wonder the Ricks put them in a school designed not to teach them to be more competent on adventures but instead to keep them helpless and subservient. 

It’s easy enough to follow the same trend in our Morty. He’s been fighting for more control all season– He chooses not to try to rescue Rick from prison. He’s fine with going against Rick’s plan in the Mad Max world. He’s the one who makes them go on the adventure with the Vindicators (and Rick loses his shit when he doesn’t get to be the only one saving the day anymore). And perhaps most telling, Morty’s ideal toxin-free self abandons Rick entirely and creates a situation where his whole job is to manipulate and control other people. 

Evil Morty is what happens when Morty’s struggle for power goes to it’s furthest degree. He wanted so bad to not be the sidekick anymore that he’d do anything, even if it meant becoming the villain. 

All we see is sky for forever

Here’s the speedpaint :D 

Also, to the people who were asking about the prints, I made a Redbubble :D

!!! Please Do NOT Repost !!!

omg, i s2g i figured riverdale’s mystery out

to summarize (sorry for repetition from other post but i wanted everything in one post): 

1. everyone keeps pointing out how similar archie and jason looked and were. they had more in common than sports; they were both tutored by ms grundy (pause for vom), they were both at the river. they both had red hair. archie was the intended target, and the killer is grundy’s husband. 

why? like i’ve said, i hated that plot to high hell but grundy did seem to be really genuinely afraid of him (assuming that was the truth), afraid that he’d do something terrible to her. if it was the truth and that’s why she changed her identity, then ostensibly he’s real dangerous. 

2. edit: it would be a huge realization for archie that he was a victim. he really assumed he was safe with grundy. that was actually something he reiterated many times—he knew what he was doing, he was safe, it was all his choice. but it wasn’t, right? he was manipulated by her, and completely preyed upon.

i think it would help archie realize that he was a victim and come to terms with the way she abused him emotionally as well as physically.

the original point didn’t come off right, so i edited it here to clarify.

it also makes sense because the only other people with motives to torture a kid for a week seemed to acquit themselves in the recent episode

polly has an alibi, the coopers genuinely seem like they didn’t do it (plus it’d be way too obvious), and the blossoms wouldn’t torture jason

3. we’re halfway through the season; if we haven’t met the killer yet i’d be surprised. if i’ve learned anything by doing meta and theories is how to structure pacing. the killer has to strike again, and it has to be someone we’ve seen; someone who’s a recurring character. all of the main characters seem innocent. 

so back to my first point, who’s the only lone character with those connections to grundy and archie, re: music? 

professor oscar castillo.

4. remember in 1x05 where he stiffened at the name “grundy” ? he said “the music teacher who left?” remember when he turned away and said something weird about the connection she clearly had with archie? how he clearly hated archie on sight? he’s grundy’s husband. 

the actor has been booked for a recurring role [x], and i’ll bet he was at the river that day, he thought jason was archie, but after he’d realized it wasn’t archie he couldn’t let jason leave. so he tortured him for information on grundy and archie and eventually shot jason, but now has to wait for the right time to strike again. 

it’s him. he did it. i’ll put money on it.

Just in case anyone wants to try me today.

This isn’t “overreacting” or “making a big deal out of nothing” this is a genuine problem and I’m tired of skinny people deciding what is and isn’t offensive to fat people. White people don’t get to declare what is racist, Straight people don’t get to decide what is homophobic, and Cis people don’t get to decide what is transphobic.

So, that being said, your skinny idealized-by-society selves do not get to decide when fat people are experiencing fatphobia.

My entire god damn life has been a fat joke, I would walk down halls and people would make jokes like “fatty want a donut” and while waiting outside the classroom for the teacher to show up would say “try not to eat us.”

I watch shows, listen to music, read comics and books to escape; not to see one of the very few characters representing me to be subjected to the same fucking stereotype placed upon me by society.

The stereotype that; because I’m fat my only motivation, my only goal, and my only desire in life, is food. That my only passion is to cook. That my only source of happiness comes from eating.

And it’s fucking upsetting, and even more so when it’s brushed off as not being an issue.

Skinny characters get multifacted personalities. The jokester who is self-conscious. The reserved loner who has a temper but is actually vulnerable and going through an identity crisis and experiences racism. The geek who is seen as calculated and a walking wikipedia but actually has feelings and is missing their loved ones and learns what true friendship is. The delicate princess that is so dainty and light yet embraces those things and learns to fight and kill a man with her bare hands if she so desired.

But what do fat people get?

Either tall hulking brute that is overly agressive and overpowered. Or the super soft and squishy fat guy that loves everyone and is obsessed with food. Maybe, just maybe, sometimes we will get the tolerable asshole who makes dick jokes and is overly cocky but secretly kind (90% of the time they’re gamers).

So to see a character that could also have a family he misses, or has lost. A character that could also relate with racial issues. A character motivated by his teamates, that used to be nauseous just riding in his lion that now blows up ships just for tailgaiting and is strong enough to probably carry multiple people by himself, that would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat to save a stranger let alone those he loves…

Boiled down to a shitty joke where he frantically chases the smell of a pie to get to the center of a maze as motivation.

Makes me want to fucking cry, because my one safe space, my one escape; is using the same type of shitty jokes that kids used while shoving me in locker rooms and snapping rubber bands against my skin in class.

Though I’m so sorry for “over reacting” and inconveniencing you.

I’m so sorry for speaking out about a character that you don’t care about.

But more than anything, I’m sorry that you’re truly that heartless to tell hundreds of people who are being genuinely hurt to basically “get over it.”

7

I’m back from hell a week of exams, so I finally finished those ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و There are some more in my inbox but they’re pretty much [character] + one expression over and over, so this will probably be the last batch for now (though I want to finish the rest of them when I’m bored or have some free time) oh and one more thing

THE REQUESTS HAVE BEEN CLOSED FOR A FEW WEEKS NOW

I thought that fact was pretty clear after I made that one post, but I’m STILL getting requests, so I’m just reminding you I haven’t been accepting them for some time now

I want to see the High Lords rubbing Tarquin’s age in his face:

Rhysand: When I was your age—

Kallias: Oh how it would feel to be young again—

Thesan: Little tyke— *proceeds to scold Tarquin for swearing*

Helion: Hey now, sonny, you can’t be drinking that yet. *takes away his wine*

Tarquin: Oh my god.

He and Feyre get them back with:

Tarquin: Do you need that food blended so you can eat it better?

Feyre: Want some help up those stairs? We can rest if you need to.

Tarquin: If you have problems getting aroused, don’t worry, it happens to everyone when they get old.

Defying God

We are a very messy party of newbies, sometimes we argue about what we should do and it gets very loud and angry. To stop this arguments, the DM (our “god”, as my party sometimes calls him) raises his hand, carrying a d4. If we don’t shut up, he’ll roll the dice and we all get hit by a lightning, or our surroundings get set in fire, etc.
The thing is, I was quietly talking OOC with my friend, also a member of the party, and the DM didn’t like that.

DM: *raises his hand*
Me: *don’t see him*
DM: *rolls the d4* The Ranger was too distracted to see the well in front of her and she falls down face first. She looses 5 hp.
Me: (still ooc) Dude, wtf!
DM: God has spoken.
Me: God can go fuck himself, I was talking about something personal!
DM: Do you want to lose more hp?
Me: I didn’t lose shit, that was uncalled for! I wasn’t arguing or interrupting!
DM: Don’t make me roll the d4 again, Ranger.
Me: This is bullshit… I ninja my way up the well while I scream at God that he’s an authoritarian bitch.
DM: You can’t do that…
Me: I have +4 dexterity and I just rolled a nat 20. Watch me.

2

Mark likes to feel “Good Thing”🔥

All His Fault

In the large mansion, isolated from the bustling city, a place was covered in mystery, a place was covered in death. On these grounds, an atmosphere so thick laid like a blanket around the house, suffocating the people in it.

One shouts so loud that the people outside- the butler, chef, and gardener- cringe in hurt. They know what is real. They pack their backs and get ready to get out. They know what is happening. One, sadly, is still shrouded from it.


William shouts as loud as his lungs could give.

Damien? Celine? Come out! You got me! This was an elaborate prank, you got me, now, come out!”

At first, it was a call for them, come on, pleasepleasepleasecomeout. No one’s dead, right? But as time went on, it was becoming a chant. A chant of his heart, for his mind, to keep working, keep moving, keep calling. They’re not dead. They’re playing a prank.

“Come on William.” He whispered to himself, fiddling with his lenses. “Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. D-Don’t…” He swallowed, a sharp short pain in his dry throat. “They’re not dead. Come on! Damien! Celine-!”

“William.” A voice calls from his back, and he looked at the corner of his eyes.  A cracked mirror. His friend, reflected on the smooth, jagged surface. A look of anger, vengeance, burning. “Stop.”

“You don’t understand, Mark.” He grits out in a faux happy tune, but both knew it was fake as it can get. “Those two- they were— are, my friends. For years!  And you know they love pranks. They’ve got to get out soon!”

The other man steps forward, and it was only this time did William register the familiar cane in his hands. A surge of disbelief ran through him, and blindly, as if his body knew what his mind wanted to do before it instructed him, walked briskly towards the other and snatched the cane, clutching it close to his chest.

“This- this isn’t yours. It’s Damien’s. Not. Not yours.” He stammered, not knowing why. Was it anger? Disbelief? Or was he hurting already? What did it feel to hurt? “You’re not supposed to hold it. It’s his. Mayor’s.”

“Colonel-“

“You shut your mouth!” He retaliated, hands shaking, and he felt his body drop. ‘Stop.’ He yelled desperately in his mind, a slow hysterical feel creeping in his internal voice. ‘Stand tall! At ease! Parade rest! God fucking-‘

A firm hand landed on his shoulder. A familiar touch, yet not so. It felt cold, as if owner’s anger that he was feeling was ice-hot. William blinked the tears from his eyes, and removed his glasses, drying the tears on them. And-how peculiar was that. He was on his knees. When was he on his knees? Did he do something wrong?

“Did I kill them?” He asked no one, no one in particular, absolutely removing anyone around him from his midst. He was alone in this room, wasn’t he? Or was the man behind him, no, not just a man, Mark, behind him? “No, no, I didn’t, right? Mark’s alive?”

“Yes. But-“

“Oh god. Oh god. Goodness gracious. I thought- and Celine, and Damien, and-and-and, and Y/N, right, I didn’t kill them?” He tried to stand, but his knees were too wobbly, and he had to balance himself upright. “Mark, I didn’t kill them?”

Mark didn’t answer. The anger that was projected on his face earlier waned, morphing into something drastic, pitying, hurting, all at once. “William- I, I’m trying to tell you, please, listen-“

William’s smile grew, a painful one, and his eyes, oh his eyes, filling up with hot tears.

“Mark, I didn’t kill them?!” He asked once more, and he stumbled, losing grip. He stared at the cane first before looking up at the other’s face. “T-Tell me, you’re alive?”

“I-“ Mark brought his hand up to his face, massaging his nose. “It’s hard to explain, but yes, I am alive, but- but not in the way that I used to be. William.” He bent down and gripped the steadily hysterical man. “William, listen to me. I am alive. But I- I am Celine. I am Damien. We’re both here, but- but we’re dead, William. Do you understand?”

The man stared at him, and Dark, who had been just letting his anger reign himself in, bit his lip, seeing the absolute pain in his eyes. Celine and Damien, in his conscious, struggled, gasped. Both tried to control themselves to project the man they wanted to take vengeance as.

Then they heard the ramblings. The ramblings, by god, the ramblings, they figured out, my god, where was their friend going?

“D-Damien in the body? C-Celine in the body? That’s- that’s great! They’re not dead! Mark’s not alive! That’s even greater! No one’s dead! No one’s dead! F-Fuck, no one’s dead!

However when they saw their childhood friend break, absolutely break, Dark knelt, and shed a few tears.

“William, please.” He looked at his friend. “William-“

The other man stood up, fast as lightning, and shouted upwards. “No one’s dead! They’re all alive! Hah! G-Good one, good one!” He smiled, a painstaking, hysterical, twisted, and deranged smile. “That must be pretty harsh! To be there in there! What do you call yourselves?”

In a small, but relenting voice, he whispered, “Dark.” And he winced at the bigger smile that took over his friend’s face. “William, do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes!” He smiled, and- were those tears? Tears of a man so far from reality. Tears from a man who can’t accept reality and forged his own. Tears that signified the great loss of a man.

Dark stood up, and looked at him, with baited breath. Celine and Damien’s friend’s sanity was long gone. In a broken giggle, William beamed widely.

“No one’s dead! No one is dead!”


And that was the final straw for Damien. In Dark’s mind, he paced gripped his lapels as hard as he can, and grinded out through his teeth his words.

He fucking did this to him! Look at him! Fuck, Celine!” He demanded, and Celine watched his tirade, eyes widening as she saw the anger overtake him. “He took everything away from us! He took me. I could deal with that. He took you, and I couldn’t. But- but William! The man was damaged enough as it is! That fucking son of a bitch-“

“Damien, please-“

“Don’t Damien please me, Celine!” His voice was getting higher. “No matter what we could do, magic arts or not, there is no way with helping William anymore! All he sees is Dark, Mark’s face, accommodating us, and we don’t have any way to show him that we’re here. He doesn’t comprehend it!” He yelled, watching her reactions. “You cannot tell me that I shouldn’t destroy his work, his loved ones, his life! Look at how he destroyed him without an ounce of thought!”

Celine bit her lip and exhaled. “Damien. I-“

A gunshot suddenly brought them out of their reverie. Dark blinked, looking at the scene in front of him. A bullet, on the floor, punctured. William, with a gun on his hand, looking lost, like a child without their parents. His eyes wide, he turned a questioning look at the other, who smiled in response.

“You weren’t responding to me.” He laughed, and something unsettling was in his eyes. “I just wanted to check if you were still there. With me. Alive.” He put the gun in his holster. “Y-You weren’t moving, and I know I didn’t put a bullet in you, so you couldn’t have died- but you weren’t moving anymore, so I figured, why not put a bullet on you?” He chuckled even louder. “That seems to bring people alive!”

Dark chose to be silent, and Celine could only sob in her hands, as Damien stood up tall in Dark’s subconscious, unyielding, and hateful. He watched his childhood friend, his comrade, the man he had grew up with, the man he sought out in times of trouble, break as if he was just a plaything; crumble, as if his sanity was just an insignificant sand in the wind; and disappear into a pit of madness, right before his eyes. 

He commanded Dark’s body to stand, and hug the other man, whispering reassurances that he was alive. William would nod and whisper “No one’s dead” again and again, further angering Dark.

This was all Mark’s fault. This was all Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault.

And he will pay.


So. What do you guys think? Hope you like it! Comments will be appreciated ahaaaa