Summary: After you kill your abusive father, Thor is sent to kill you. He makes a different call. You make him regret it.
He’s finally caught up with you, across the stars. Can you persuade him to let you go a second time?
A/N:This is for my loveliest love’s writing challenge @xbuchananbarnes. My prompt was the dialogue (#10) “I let you live once, Princess.”
Special thank you to @honeychicanawrites for letting me freak out to her and for betaing!
Warnings: NSFW. Death and trauma focused conversation. Read at your own risk, I won’t spoil the end. Minor character death, but he’s a jerk. Violent imagery. Smut. Trauma. Mentions of unexplained abuse toward reader. Past violence toward reader. Links to porn gifs. Brief moment of PTSD.
some photos of chandler, the lastest whitetail deer ive found as roadkill. hes got a peculiar white stripe on each of his hooves ive never seen before. his winter coat is also so soft and gorgeous. ill do my best to honor every part of him i can. ☘
“jebačina (for fuck’s sake),” she hissed; it was very silly of her to get annoyed with the victim, knowing the outcome, but they could at least use their heads! And leading the other into the kitchen of all places! Don’t these people know you could fashion a weapon out of literally everything in that room? Besides that; it’s where all the knives are basically stored too! Abysmal, utter horseshit. She didn’t feel an ounce of pity for this young miss.
At least the murderer gave her something to laugh at.
She honestly wondered what was the deal with all that getup; she could understand using a mask along with other paraphernalia to obscure one’s identity, but she chuckled a bit at the imagery. Was the costume designed to mimic the common image of the grim reaper? Sort of overkill, no pun intended, but at least it wasn’t outlandish like many she had seen in the past. Mask was still bizarre in her mind, but she wasn’t the one doing the killing for the night, so she could care less.
“Well, it should be about time she croaks,” she succinctly swung her legs from her perch in the tree, before dropping down, her landing noiseless. Idly she wondered if she should take the other killer out as well, a sort of two for one deal. Not that she really had anything against him; it was simply a thought she had, one she might put into motion depending on his behavior when she catches him.
Still, there was the idea of keeping him alive, despite some probable hitches. After all; serial killers made the funeral business skyrocket, as morbid as that sounded. If there was anything she was going to take away from tonight at least, it would be that little blue ghost fire that she always collects from the deceased.
“Meh, I’ll wait until the weirdo comes outside,” she yawned, discreetly peering in through the windows. “No way in Veles am I going in there.”
[JACOB MILES//GHOSTFACE]
Speaking of going in there, it was time for GhostFace to shine.
Sure, the mask from the STABseries was iconic. It was on all sort of merchandise. From T-shirts to backpacks, even on postcards when it’s Halloween time here in Woodsboro. That was one time of the year he takes a break. It was a Michael Myers thing, even more so it was too obvious to kill anyone. At least personally to him.
Once the woman was distracted enough, the lights flicker out. Ghostface takes out the breaker. Making the girl scream scared. She frantically tries to pull out her smartphone, but a door opens.
He was in the house.
GhostFace used the darkness mostly to his advantage. Sure his outfit blends better, but the mask was the dead giveaway. But it was something someone would stare in disbelief. Caught off guard. Killed and dead.
That heavy breathing sent chills of excitement down GhostFace’s spine. He mimics hers back, sneaking behind her. Draws out his Bowie knife.
He raises it back up before a hair pull.
STAB! STAB! STAB!
Gargles of screams ooze out of the woman’s mouth. Blood drooling down her body and onto the pale tile floor. Her shoulder was being jabbed repeatedly. Though her eyes didn’t make it in time to witness, but only rolled back. Just like her knees caving in from the blood loss.
The killer follows along, still pounding his blade into her shoulder blade, just above the shoulder blade. Near the neck. That perfect form of entry. Soon GhostFace was kneeling before letting the body drop. Seeing her body limp and slam against the glass of the oven.
He tilts his head before taking a larger piece of glass, shoves it into her neck and moves her hand close to her chest. Staged suicide.
Bill is having his vasectomy today, or how he’s been referring to it “having his wiener cut off”.
He even put it in the calendar as “Wiener Surgery”. I fucking love him and his dumb sense of humor.
Anyways. I don’t want another baby, but the finality of it all is sort of sad. Like, a part of my life is coming to a close. Tbh we have been ttc or pregnant for like the entire span of our relationship and it will be weird to never be in the mindset again. Although I keep having this recurring fear that I’m pregnant and that simultaneously fills me with dread and excitement. But it’s honestly so dumb and I have absolutely no symptoms and I’m not. But until my period comes I’ll probably worry lol.
My step dads funeral is this weekend. We have been planning it while also trying to move my mom into her new house. She’s handling it so much better than I thought she would, but I know this weekend will be hard. I keep having moments where I forget that Tom is gone, and then I remember and it’s so terrible. I’ll get these waves of sadness and start crying, and it’s also forced me to reflect on my own mortality.
Tom was only 63 years old. He was so damn young. My mom and him had just got to a really good place after having many years of struggling. And while we were in a better place when he died, I had years where I was mad at him for the some of the decisions he made. I was justified in my anger towards him, but now I have so much regret for holding onto that anger for so long. Like, if I had known time would be so limited I would have let it go a long time ago. I just hope Tom knew that regardless of any issues we had in the past, that he was my friend and I loved him. His presence missing from my life will be something that will be extremely difficult to adjust to. I am going to miss him.
My mother’s younger brother died yesterday, possibly of a heart attack. It was by chance that I was with her when she got the phone call, just moments before we were about to part ways after a weekend at the Cape. After she hung up in the other room, I heard my mother say to my father, “the police are on their way there”, and thought thought it was about my grandmother or grandfather who aren’t well. I would not have guessed it would be one of their sons. My uncle Otie had spent time alone at the Cape house. I could almost feel him there. Later, before heading back to NYC, I went to a lighthouse and smelled barbecued hot dogs being sold to tourists. Otie always took charge of everyone’s cookout orders–“cheese or no cheese?” “Hot dog, hamburger, or both?”. I then considered going to the Edward Gorey house/museum on the way back, too. I knew that cats still hang around the house, but it just reminded me that Otie loved cats. He talked to them as he walked around doing chores on our family’s farm. I skipped the trip to the Gorey house and came home. My mother has lost a sibling before she has even lost her parents. Things are so different now.
Context: my teacher translated the verb “to grasp with one’s hand” as “to fist” since that’s kinda what it literally means, but you can’t translate it like that into English because “to fist” means something ENTIRELY different, but she doesn’t know that.
So she was explaining how they use the verb to describe the angel of death taking your soul — he rips your soul out of you with his fist. Now that’s pretty damn metal, but she said word for word “the angel of death fists you, and then you die” which is the single most terrifying and powerful sentence to ever grace my ears
I was devastated to learn that Taylor Hawkins, drummer of the Foo Fighters, has died. I just cannot believe it. I have known about him and the band for literal decades and this is just so sad. I have been fortunate enough to see them live and I’m glad I have that memory.
Of course, I think mostly of Taylor’s family and his children, but I also think of Dave Grohl, who has now lost 2 band mates in the most tragic of circumstances.
