#stop acting like a fucking cop for those of us without one

[public-trans-it]

Eh fuck it. I'll just make The Discourse Post and just not have it be a fucking text essay.

One of my biggest issues with TME/TMA discourse is how much its based on assigning who is affected by oppression, in ways that are just FUNDAMENTALLY WRONG ACTUALLY.

If your method of analyzing oppression is built on a premise where you if you met the author of "I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out." you would look her directly in the eyes and say "You aren't the target of transmisogyny, actually" then quite frankly... your method of analysis sucks shit.

My OTHER big issue is... every fucking post about it sounds like this fucking tweet tbh.

Yeah, I'm sure that the dickhead looking to curbstomp someone who falls outside of gender norms entering a public restroom, is gonna go "Oh! You are a tranny with LADY PARTS! My mistake!"

#anyway im sure the person who's been harassing me is going to have a field day with this one #maybe they will finally come off anon! #fucking doubt it though #coward #also: “Oh that trans person uses he/him pronouns so he is TME” #- A real fucking take that is VERY FUCKING COMMON on this site #about a certain genderfluid individual who trans women like to pretend isn't genderfluid #listen #i do not give a fucking rats ass about him #but GOD is he a great litmus test for seeing how fucking rancid your opinions are about anyone who doesn't fall into a strict binary gender #like... binary genders are fine. Hope you enjoy yours #stop acting like a fucking cop for those of us without one #also YES that last part is transphobic #thats the fucking POINT #anyway im off to bed this is future me's problem to deal with lmao #edit: removing the hyperbolic 'dude' in there cause i can see that bothering people

[minarisplaything]

Blackpink in Your Area (p1) ft. Jennie Kim

Pairing: Jennie Kim x Male!Reader Rating: Explicit / Mature Wordcount: 1.6k Summary: After her latest performance you find yourself sneaking backstage with your girlfriend.

AN: some context, this was made...god around the time of their first world tour? so writing wise it might not follow the same rhythm of my current stuff. but it's a personal fave i've had privately that i figure fuck it i might as well post it now. if you want to read a TWICE converted version of this chapter with Nayeon you can find it on my AFF profile but this is the OG never published version. Enjoy!

"Where are we going?"

"Ssh. Just come on!"

The accented voice leaves little room for argument as the owner's hand pulls you down another corridor. It seems with every turn you get further and further lost — which is likely the point. However, Jennie seems to know exactly where she is going, a small comfort at least. She pulls you down another tight passage then stops, pressing you against the cold wall. Instinctively you hold your breath before realizing you have no reason to — or at least you hope you don't.

"Jennie, you're acting like we're running from the cops," you speak, your voice a hushed whisper despite your previous reasoning.

"They might as well be the police," she responds, glancing back the way you came.

After another moment, she must be pleased that there is no one following you and turns to face you, a mischievous grin on her features. Without a word, she cups your face with her hands, bringing your lips down to meet hers in a slow, greedy kiss. Whatever concerns or confusion you had previously begin to fade away as your hands find their way around her. It has been so long since you had a moment together that you had forgotten how easy it was to melt into her embrace.

She pulls back, her nose brushing against yours. "If anyone saw us," even with your eyes closed, you can hear the relief and satisfaction in her voice. The kiss had the same effect on you. "This would be over and my career would be on the line," she places a kiss to your jaw as she speaks.

It is a bittersweet truth. What you have is masked in darkness and secrecy; not even the other members of her group know about you. If it were ever revealed to the public, not only would the fans and paparazzi eat you alive, dating is strictly against her company's rules. You always said that you would end things with her before you ever let that happen to her.

You feel her palm running over your cheek, your distressed thoughts likely showing on your face as your brow furrows. "Don't think about that now," she presses another kiss to your lips, then another and another; giving you plenty of time to notice just how soft and irresistible her lips are. By the fourth kiss, you are eagerly kissing her back, your hands sliding from her waist up her back, pulling her closer than you already were.

This time around your embrace is needier, hungrier; as if every second you were living on borrowed time. You feel her hands move from your cheek up into your hair, fingers running through and gripping at the short strands. Her teeth dig into your bottom lip, tugging on it while she peers up at you with those killer eyes of hers. The sight alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

"I need you," she says when she lets go, "Right here. Now."

As she speaks, one hand slides down from your hair, running over your chest and rubbing over your slacks. Her palm encourages the bulge that is growing there and you cannot deny that your arousal doesn't just come from her but the fact that at any moment you could be discovered. It is exhilarating in its own way. Adrenaline and lust are a dangerous concoction on any night but here with Jennie, it seems especially so.

You agree without a word, only giving a small nod of your head before you are spinning her around so her ass is jutting out to you while her hands splay against the opposite wall. She is still dressed in her stage outfit from the earlier performance, which doesn't help to subdue your eager hands in the least. She is stunning in every way, yet when she is on stage she still somehow seems to magnify that. Seeing the outfit just brings back memories of watching her earlier that night.

"Need some help there?" A teasing voice breaks you from your momentary recollection. Jennie is glancing over her shoulder at you, brunette hair partially masking her features. She has a vixen side to her and truth be told, you are used to her taking control and being in charge, but you also know that you cannot let this opportunity she is giving you go to waste.

In return, you offer her a smirk of your own, "Merely admiring the view." Though given your time and place, this is hardly the moment for appreciation.

You push her plaid skirt up, your hand dipping between her thighs. "You've soaked right through your training shorts, baby," you try to keep the arousal out of your voice, but the husky facade cracks just a bit. Jennie moans in response; the notion turns you on just as much as it does her clearly. "Just how long were you thinking about this?"

At first, it is a rhetorical question, but as your wrist snaps back and forth, fingers getting her off over her clothing, you find yourself eagerly waiting for an answer. Jennie does not give any; her breath comes out in quick hiccups. She leans further into the wall, her hips pressing out closer to you in obvious need. "Were you thinking about it during your performance?"

"Y-Yes..." she manages, her own hand reaching back to grip your wrist, refusing to let you stop. "When I saw you in the crowd — oh god."

You can tell she is going further and further down the rabbit hole. Her New Zealand accent becomes more pronounced the more aroused she gets. An astute observation you have made over your time together. It is not the only sign either; she is biting down on her plump bottom lip and her thighs are clenching deliciously around your hand.

Satisfied with her answer, you lean over her, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. "Baby, we don't have much time."

The idol takes a moment before she nods in response, her grip loosening on your hand. Your fingers deftly move from between her thighs to her waistband, pulling down her spanks to expose her to the night air. You make quick work of your pants buckle, or at least you try to. Your own eagerness causes your hands to fumble with it for a second before finally getting it undone and unzipped.

"Oh fuck..." Jennie moans loudly as you slide your length into her, and it is the most heavenly sound in existence. In any other time, you might've clasped one hand on her mouth to muffle the moans lest you be discovered, but in this moment, caution is thrown to the wind.

You can feel your cock swelling even further once you are inside her; the walls of her pussy clamping down on you. It takes you one thrust, then another before you are in to the hilt, a deep groan rumbling from your chest past your lips as you take a moment to revel in the sensation. That moment is all you allow yourself, however. Comparing it to the earlier kiss that had been the slow and eager first embrace; what comes next is pure hunger and lust.

Your hands grip her waist tighter as you pull out of her, hips snapping forward to meet hers. Another delicious moan reaches your ears as she lets her head fall back. Each thrust is harder and faster than the last, desperate to be with her and to have her coming undone in pleasure. Of course, to do that, you have to hold yourself together as well, and that is no easy task. "God, you feel so good."

The sound of skin slapping together begins to fill the space you have tucked into, mixing with the heavy breaths and moans that fill the air. You lean over her, one hand moving to turn her face towards you as your lips meet in a sloppy embrace. "I love seeing you like this. I want to make you feel this good all the time."

Jennie only moans in response, her mouth hanging open as she takes every inch of you. Your free hand moves from her waist to her chest; fondling her breast through her top. You have enough sense not to be so aggressive that you pop a button, but it is a tall task. The last thing you need is questions from the costume department.

"Fuck, right there," her hand reaches back, grabbing at your ass to force your cock back to hitting the same spot. Jennie is so used to being in control that you are almost tempted to deny her request. And maybe in a different time and place, you would have teased her for a bit before giving in. Now, however, you do not even have control over yourself, let alone strength to tease her. All you can do is what she asks of you. Hips move frantically to fulfill her desire, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Her nails dig into your skin, and you can feel your own release coming as well. "I — I'm close!" you grunt in warning.

"Hold on, baby. Hold on, I'm almost there... almost...!" she goes quiet; her body tightening as her mouth falls open in a silent cry, her eyes shut tight as her orgasm runs through her. Fingers dig into the back of your neck as she comes, and it is just might've been the most beautiful thing you have witnessed since her last one. Jennie has never been the loudest when she comes undone, yet it is still enough for you to reach your breaking point.

"JENNIE?!"

Suddenly, a voice cries out, causing you to physically jump back, your cock springing free of Jennie's pussy, cum shooting in the air. When you look in the direction of the out crying voice, you are both aroused and horrified.

There stands Jennie's group-mate and best friend, Jisoo, her face coated in your cum.

"...Oh fuck..."

#male reader #blackpink smut #jennie kim smut #jennie x male reader #jennie kim x male reader #jennie kim x reader #kpop smut

[bigboysfalldeep]

life in blue - posession

Officer Petersen is on a high in life.

Everything is going perfectly fine. He's started to build his own home a little further out of town for him and his soon-to-be wife, a beautiful young woman. They met years ago, and since then, Petersen has been sure she's the one. Today, his captain called him in to talk about a possible promotion. That would mean more days off, more money, and more time for his family.

Now, he's celebrating with his partner, Officer Clarke, whom he has known for nearly 5 years. It was way after midnight, and the two men had already emptied a dozen beers when the urge to go to the toilet got worse and worse. Petersen excuses himself, walks through the nearly empty pub, and closes the door behind him. Standing there, he unbuttons his pants and releases himself. He lets out a low moan in relief, closing his eyes for a second.

He hears someone enter the room as well, but the footsteps stop right behind him. When Petersen opens his eyes again, he turns around to see a young man looking at him with a coy smile.

"I'm done here, boy." Petersen says, pulling up his pants, thinking that guy is waiting for him to finish, but somehow he acts even weirder. The young man is wearing a black leather jacket, a white shirt, and tight leather pants with a huge tent forming inside them. The officer, slightly drunk, lets his eyes wander all over the man's body while he just stares at him, smirking.

"I've been looking for you, officer." He says suddenly, with a low, warm voice. Petersen frowns, confused, but somehow he feels relaxed. "Looking for me? Why?" He growls, trying to walk past him to wash his hands, but the man stops him by placing one hand firmly on his chest. "What is your problem?" Petersen pushes the man, who doesn't even flinch. Instead, he eyes the cops whole body, up and down, before their eyes meet again. "My problem?" he says, his voice getting even smoother somehow. "I..need you." The man bites his lower lip teasingly.

"Fuck off, fag." Petersen scoffs angrily and pushes right past him to wash his hands. Looking into the mirror, he notices that man still standing there, looking right into his eyes. Right then, they start to flicker, getting brighter and brighter. "The fuck is that." The officer says, truly unable to resist those beautiful eyes. "Beautiful, aren't they?" The man says, and without breaking eye contact, he locks the door next to him.

"What are you doing?" Petersen asks angrily, turning around. For a moment, he snaps out of this trance, but the man easily calms him down by placing a firm hand on his chest once more. "Relax. It's just meant to be the two of us." The man strokes Petersen's chest firmly, and at first, he takes a step back. He's much bigger than that guy, and he's not letting a man touch him like that.

"Im a cop; youre in big trouble if you dont let me go." The officer says it angrily, trying his best to sound as intimidating as possible. The man, however, just chuckles. "Oh, I know who you are, officer." He smiles teasingly and shrugs. "That's why I want you." Petersen shakes his head. He has enough of this bullshit, so he approaches the guy, trying to shove him away to leave that room and that pub altogether.

Somehow, that man anticipated that, and instead of letting him be pushed around, he grabs the cop's neck with one hand while pushing him against the wall. He's much stronger than he looks, and he easily pins the bulky officer to the cold brick wall. "Not so fast." He grins, his eyes now flickering again. "You're not going anywhere." Petersen fights back, but there is no use. "Let me go, now." He grunts as the man holds him with one arm against the neck and his other hand now on the officer's big chest again. "You can't leave just yet. The guy grins. "There is nothing for you to go back to anyway." The man chuckles again while stroking Petersen firmly with his hand. "Fuck you, I will not let you grope me." He channels his inner strength and manages to get off the wall for a mere second before his assailant pushes him back even harder. "So strong, eh?" He grunts now, too. "This will be fun." The man uses his arm to choke Petersen slightly, but more importantly, he holds the man's head in place to force eye contact.

Instantly, the man's eyes seemingly shine brightly, like a multicolored spiral that twists and turns. The officer fights, but he grows weaker by the second. Something inside him is drawn to this beautiful display, and his focus shifts to those flickering eyes. "Good boy, relax." The man says this, weakening his grip. Petersen's body slowly reacts as well, with his limbs going numb. "What are you doing?" He mutters under his breath, causing the man to smile again. "Preparing you for your new life" The guy smirks, letting his hand run freely all over the cop's massive chest. "I have a life." He grunts, still fighting, even though it's futile.

"That life isn't meant for you. Your whole purpose is to serve. To serve me, your true master." The man's strokes get more and more intense, and in combination with those alluring eyes, Petersen calms down. "Serve you?" He asks as he starts to rest his back against the wall. "Yes. Sounds good, doesn't it?" The man removes his arm completely, enjoying the sight of this beefy man slowly going under. "It doessss." Petersen smiles weakly, still watching those spinning eyes.

"You don't need that fancy house or that wife of yours." The man frowns now, narrowing his eyes slightly. He looks disgusted, even thinking about that possible life. "I dont...need...." The officer opens his mouth, and when the man leans into him, their faces are now just inches apart. "The only thing you want and need is me." He smiles again; this time, he strokes the cop's body with both of his hands, one on his chest and the other now firmly on the officer's tenting cock.

"Enjoying that?" He chuckles, rubbing the palm of his hand against Petersen's bulging cock. The officer's face softens; he raises his eyebrows, opens his mouth, and a soft, long moan escapes his lips. "Good boy. Were nearly done." The man makes sure to not break eye contact now, while he easily finds the officer's most sensitive spots. Stroking his pecs, his hard nipples, and down to his abs, he feels the cop growing bigger and harder inside his firm embrace. "Officer, can you hear me?" He says that then, and Petersen nods slowly. "Yes." The man tilts his head and smirks. "You need to grow even harder. Harder than ever before. I want you to put your whole focus on the tip of your cock. Understood?" Instantly, without any delay, the cop does as he is told. His expression hardens, just like all of his muscles. His whole body is edging him on to become bigger. As he concentrates more and more, the man can't help but touch Petersen. His huge biceps test the limits of fabric by pressing against the uniform shirt, as does his heavy chest. "Good boy." The man smirks, running both of his hands across the chest and back towards the massive bulge still forming inside the uniform pants. Enjoying the feeling of his master touching him, Petersen starts to drool heavily, his soft moans filling the bathroom.

"So big, huh?" The man bites his lip again, feeling his own throbbing dick through his leather pants. "Now. When I tell you to, you will cum, like you have never done before. And once you're done, you will be mine, following all of my commands. Understood?" Petersen nods painfully as the urge to release himself gets bigger and bigger, just like his already leaking cock.

The man lifts his head, watching the officer struggle heavily, before he grabs Petersen's thick cock, firmly jerking him off through his wet pants. "Now."

At this word, the officer's cock erupts again and again, shooting one massive load after another right into his uniform. His dick pulsates, vibrates, and twitches rapidly, in unison with the man's hand. The cops eyes unfocus before they roll back into his skull, his whole body being overwhelmed by pain and pleasure running through it. Moaning again and again, the man giggles, touching himself at the sight of this bulky man shaking uncontrollably. He drops to his knees, and his master steadies him easily, lifting his chin gently.

"Can you hear me?" The man raises his voice slightly, and Peterson nods, his body still twitching with his cock staining his entire pants. "Yes, master." The officer says, his voice dull, his eyes vacant, and his body hard as a rock. 

"Good." The man strokes his cheek with one hand, while the other is on his own bulging cock. "Now, before we go, I want you to help me. Suck me off, boy." He grabs himself firmly, and immediately Petersen leans into the man's crotch, unbuttons his leather pants, and pulls them down. The man's already wet, erect cock jumps into the cop's face, who eagerly swallows it. He must have sucked cock before, the way he knows how to please a man.

Steadying himself against the wall, the man lets out a low guttural moan when somebody knocks on the door. "Petersen, are you alright?" It is his partner, Clarke, who is looking for him. Annoyed, the man pulls at Petersen's hair to make him stop. "5 more minutes." The man mouths.

"Give me 5 minutes." He says it in a monotone voice, and at first, Clarke doesn't respond. Then he sighs. "Fine. "I'm going to piss myself soon; hurry up." They hear him leave, and as soon as the man lets go of the hair, Petersen sucks him off again.

It doesn't take long for the man to cum straight into the officer's mouth, who gladly takes multiple shots, before he orders him to get up. "Can you hear me, Officer?" He says this, straightening the man's uniform and stroking him at the same time. "Yes sir." The cop says

"You won't go home tonight. Instead, you will come to my place, your new home." He smirks, raising a piece of paper to put it in the man's pocket. With one last look at his new toy, he unlocks the door. "Don't be late." With that, he leaves the room unseen, and after tonight, Petersen will vanish without a trace.

#male on male #tf story #male hypno #male domination #male hypnosis #male posession #male transformation #male body possession

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 5 (Porty MK, Artist MK, Delivery MK)

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson either Wildfire or Firecracker

- Whenever something goes wrong he says "called it." (He did not, in fact, call it)

- Calls everyone "Dude"

- Once took Redson out to the Anti-gravity Arcade and got mad when he passed out after almost 32 hours of non-stop dancing and playing arcade games

- Tells MK that he has no fashion sense but will wear the most atrocious combination of colours and patterns himself

- Has multiple ear piercings as well as a bellybutton and tongue piercing

-  Once threw a party that got busted by the police and dispelled himself to avoid getting caught

- Has so much energy, if he's not at a party he's constantly walking around the apartment, if his legs start hurting he'll sit down for like 8 seconds before getting up and walking around again because he still has so much energy left

- Makes the dirtiest jokes known to man kind

- Makes the others do karaoke night with him. every. week.

- Will sometimes put on lipstick and kiss all over Redsons face and neck to make og MK jealous (trust me guys, please🙏)

- Absolutely HATES dark chocolate, it's too bitter for him

- Despises the claw machine games at the arcade, if he gets something and then it falls out of the claw he'll literally break the glass and just take it

- Lives on energy drinks

- Will refuse to drink any soft drinks when they run out of bubbles

- Loves those cringey alpha wolf memes

- Laughs at those firemen saving people in reverse videos and always sends them to Redson, who also laughs at them (yes it does concern MK and the others)

- Smells like sweat and cotton candy (its from flavoured vape smoke)

- Love language is Quality time (and by quality time I mean partying)

- Has a whole box of glowsticks

- "Hey, hey, hey guys, watch this!!" *fails at trick*

- Loves candy, especially hard candies

- Scams kids out of their tickets at the arcade

- Paints his nails a different colour every week, and almost always uses glow in the dark nail polish

- Tried to make his own firework show once and set three houses on fire

- Would rearrange someone's whole room just to mess with them

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to take prizes from the claw machines without having to actually play them

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson his Muse

- Would probably collect bones. It freaks the fuck out of MK and the other clones

- Will destroy any and every art piece if it doesn't turn out exactly how he envisioned it in his head

- Writes fanfiction

- Constantly covered in paint splatters, charcoal, glue, etc

- Hates baths, lives off dry shampoo

- He acts like a cat whenever he gets wet

- Takes great care of all his art supplies and will flip out if something is out of place

- Agreed to help Sandy paint his boat again the second time he was summoned but only if Sandy stopped changing what colour he wanted it to be after every new coat of paint (Sandy learnt his lesson the first time art MK was summoned)

- His advice is always "just kill them"

- Bites ankles

- Was almost arrested for vandalism (he ran away from the cops)

- Once painted a picture of Redson, who only said "this is pretty good" (it was in fact a genuine compliment, he loved it), and Artist almost killed him

- Analyzes his dreams as if he's the prophet predicting the end of the world

- Won't let anyone use his art supplies

- Growls at people

- Perfectionist

- Smells like paint fumes

- Love language is gift giving and words of affirmation

- If he's focusing on something really hard and something startles him, he'll jump in the air like a cat

- Was drawing at a park once and a bunch of kids were being annoying so he tripped one when it ran past him

- Collects concept art books from literally anything, movies, video games, TV shows, it doesn't even matter if he's played/watched them he just likes looking at the concept art

- Insomniac who 'cures' it with an unholy amount of caffeine

- Has drank paint water before, will do it again

- Extremely passive agressive

- MK yelled at him once for getting paint all over his bed

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to reach higher places when painting on walls and shit

(Had to use og MK has a base ref because the show did delivery MK dirty)

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson Paprika

- Loves straws, will only ever drink something if he uses a straw (I did this as a kid)

- Is constantly listening to music while doing deliveries and has absolutely passed his destination on multiple occasions

- Surprisingly witty

- Is the only MK who knows how to cook and genuinely loves it

- Has a little bit more chub than og MK does (duplicatnation did him dirty and I will never forgive them for his design)

- Has gotten into physical fights with rude customers before and would do it again

- Absolutely HATES eating fish

-His shoe laces are never tied, the amount of orders he's ruined because he tripped on his stupid laces is insane

- If he gets bored he'll just lay on the floor and do nothing

- Has accidentally eaten dog food before

- After a long day of delivering he'll pass out for hours at a time then wake up again at like 2am

- "Not to be rude, but.." proceeds to say the most disrespectful shit you've ever heard

- Either cannot keep a secret for the life of him, or will immediately forget the secret 5 mins after being told what it is, no in-between

- Him and the other clones accidently broke into a strangers house once, and he felt really bad so he cleaned the dishes before leaving (it was on the news)

- Will @ a specific person in a group chat instead of just dming them

- Sometimes eats out of the noodles he's delivering, no one has found out yet

- Smells like noodles

- Love language is Acts of service

- If he gets into a fight with someone he is fully willing and ready to resort to biting

- Saw Monkey King eat his own hair once and almost threw up

- Sometimes if a customer is being rude while ordering over the phone he'll purposely drive slow or take a longer route so their noodles are cold when they get them (og MK has told him to stop multiple times because he's scared of Pigsy thinking he's the reason they get any bad reviews)

- Has a Spotify Playlist for every possible occasion

- Gives out really good hugs and will hug people for really long periods

- Cries when he sees sad animal videos

- Can't whistle to save his life

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to hold more orders to get work done faster

#fanart #lego monkie kid #lego monkey kid fanart #lego monkie kid mk #lmk mk #lmk spicynoodles #mk clone #porty clone #porty mk #artist clone #artist mk #delivery clone #delivery mk #lmk mixtape #mixtape shipping #lmk firealpaca #firealpaca shipping #lmk hotwheels #hotwheels shipping #i literally just found out the ship name for artist/delivery mk x redson #lmk headcanon #headcanon #redesign

[tobylovesspence]

Playing Dangerous- F.P. Jones

Summary: The one where you flirt with a cop after wasting his patience.

It was hard to  be friends with the Archie group when they constantly got you into trouble with the law. It became easier when you got used it, and once you all turned 26. “Come on Y/n, we’re adults we can handle this!” You scoffed staring at Archie, “Exactly! We’re adults, we shouldn’t doing childish shit like this! We can get in trouble with the sheriff! Just cause it’s J’s dad doesn’t mean we can’t be arrested!” The group had been in your kitchen for about an hour, trying to convince you to help them break into some warehouse they swore they needed into. “Please Y/n? You know, we can’t do it without you” They were persistent, and Betty was whiny. “Fine, but if I get arrested you assholes are bailing me out.” 

You had somehow gotten in with no problems, finding nothing however you glared at the group from over the shoulder. “Oh look, nothing here.” You leaned over on a box, staring at Jughead, “What did I tell you?” He just awkwardly shrugged, “It has to be here, something does.” Just then the door slammed open and you all turned. “Shit.”

You sat in the back of his cop car, groaning, god of course you got arrested for those fucking idiots.”Everybody knows i’m a good girl, officer.” You stared at him through his back window as F.P. stared back. “Mhm, sure sweetheart.” You bat your eyelashes subtly, looking for something to get you out of his car. “Do you always work alone so late?” He wasn’t working alone, the others had been picked up in the other cars, but FP picked you up. You assumed he’d get Jughead and Betty. “Stop with that. Those try-hard doe eyes.” You wanted to scoff, God older men were dicks, but you just looked down. 

“The door was already open when we got there, you know.” You were trying to justify yourself. “Oh yeah, then tell me princess, why was the lock broken?” He had looked back at you for a moment. And somehow you didn’t find it repulsive, usually the princess comment would off-put you but from FP it felt weirdly like-able. “I wouldn’t do a thing like that, that’s for sure. The door was already open, I swear i’m not a liar.” He stopped to stare at you, your melty puppy eyes as you tried the sympathy approach. Unlike other men his age though, you couldn’t get what you wanted, he wasn’t as creepy, he didn’t fall as easy. 

You expected to end up in a cell for the night, cursing your stupid group, but you had stopped at the station. He had uncuffed you and led you into his office. Now you were confused. As you sat down awkwardly, trying to be still as delicate and princess-like as you were in the car, hoping to convince him to let you go home. “So we’re still on the princess act.” He noted as he sat across from you. “So, what was a group of kids doing in a warehouse?” You had finally snapped and let out a small scoff. “I’m a full grown adult, thank you very much, 26 almost 27.” FP smirked, he had gotten you to break. “I know, calm down, our birthday is next month.” You froze, why would he know that? He didn’t even have your records out. “So, we wanna try again? Why were you there?” 

You wouldn’t spill, sitting in front of, arms crossed over your chest as you held your tongue. “Y/n. Just tell me, I could just throw you into a cell, it is my job.” You looked up at him, a playful glare, you had a new approach to getting your way, and with the way he stared, you were winning. “Fine we can stay here all night then.” He began to pull out paper work. “Yay, I like your company.” He stared at you, your sarcasm soaked words floating in the air. “Brat.” You wanted to yell, you hated being treated like a child, but you held your breath because it also did something else to you. Any insult you had thought to throw back had been lost when he looked back up, staring into your eyes with that kind of intensity. “What, lose your insults?” You pushed your hands onto your lap, looking down, embarrassment flooding your brain. “Jesus, I’ll take you home.” You had realized he was staring at the clock, and the fact that it was now 1:37 in the morning. “What about my information?” He chuckled, “You weren’t gonna give it to me anyway.” You smirked, “True, I might give you something else though.” He stared at you, your words being sudden and out of nowhere. “Hey, maybe a kiss.” He laughed quietly, assuming your words a joke. But when placed a kiss to his lips, he was stunned. “I can walk myself home, unless you want to drive me.” You gave him that gushy smile, that 20 minutes ago was aggravating as hell, now, he was enjoying the lingering stare. “Yeah, not a chance, I’ll drive you.” You grinned, “Good choice, officer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@b0nes-phobic​

#fp jones #fp jones x reader #fp jones x you #fp riverdale

[13keithxpidge13]

NO HOLD ON abt your punkflower au.. imagine how hobie would feel about prowler miles,,, was the miles in his universe also prowler but more vigilante style?? like imagine it being exactly mirroring how uncle aaron died as prowler from the first movie <//3 or for a more added flavor neither knew each others identity under the mask and was protecting each other the whole time

i blame you for giving me sad infectious brainworms

Hobie was long from completely healing from Miles' death but, had gotten a better hang on his emotions when it came to talking or thinking about him for too long. So, when Miles from Earth 1610 showed up, he had hoped he hadn't come off as overly excited and clingy. He just-he looked /so much/ like his best friend/first love. Acted like him too. Wanted to help people no matter what and was almost a little shy when it came to new people. Hobie hated himself for it but he was growing attached to this new version of Miles and couldn't help but wish that the Miles in his world had been bitten instead of him. Maybe he'd still be alive.

Miles was a good guy back on Hobie's world too though. He had gone by the name "Prowler" and while the government had condemned him and labeled him a criminal against the dictatorship, Hobie saw him for what he was, a true genuine good person that would do whatever it took to help another person in the fucked up world they lived in. It was what made Hobie so attracted to him to begin with. They had similar goals and similar ways in how they handled things. He didn't have any super powers like Hobie but could hold his own. He designed all of his own gear and even sowed some of his own designs onto Hobie's vest, painting badass doodles on his guitars and shit. It was the only thing Hobie had left of him after he died.

He didn't exactly approve of Miles going out there without Hobie by his side but, he had never been one to stop his friend. But, Hobie was nothing if not selfish. Often, he'd be found right by Miles' side and their friends used to tease that they were attached to the hip. Hobie had only wished that were true because, if it were, he could've saved his best friend from being murdered.

He didn't see Miles get shot but, his spidey-senses had warned him only seconds before and by the time he had turned around, Miles was on the ground clutching his chest while the child he had saved was wailing beside him.

Hobie had never lunged for anything so fast and he was immediately at his best friends side, ripping off their masks as Miles wheezed and gasped for air.

"No," Hobie shook his head. "No, no, no. Miles, mate? Miles, love, come /on/-"

"Hobie," Miles croaked. "It's gonna-it's gonna be-"

"Shut up, shut /up/!" Hobie yelled, feeling tears well in his eyes. "Just-why did you do that? /Why/ didn't you let me handle those guys, why would you-?"

Miles laughed breathily. "Because," He whispered, voice fading. "Someone's...someone's gotta look out...for the little guy...right?"

Hobie's breath hitched and he sobbed.

"Miles-"

"Hobie," Miles interrupted and shakily raised a hand to his cheek, fingers bloody. "I'm gonna...take a nap."

"No," Hobie shook him. "Miles, no-"

"I love-" Miles coughed again. "I love...you..."

His hand fell and with it, Hobie's entire world had shattered.

Sometimes, other Spider-Men will ask why his laces are blue and he'll say he kicked the snot out of some bad nosed cops. But, in reality, he had went on a rampage that night and killed over eleven officer's at the scene of Miles' murder in a desperate attempt to avenge his first friend and the love of his life.

But, in the end, it did nothing to erase all the pain and grief he had suffered thereafter and nothing ever would.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spiderverse

[onewholivesinloops]

the Onikakushi Usoda scene is so interesting bc it has keiichi insisting that this is Out Of Character for rena, that this isn't the rena he's always known, that this isn't his rena - even though he's only known her for a few weeks - bc she did something that broke his image of her as the Ideal Cute Girl. he never brings into question who he is as a person to the reader, and keiichi here is the audience's surrogate. he never looks within himself or considers the unreliability of his perspective of the events surrounding him. this is very meaningful. you, as the reader, think nothing of how this boy was just screaming at his friend, how he'd grabbed her, and how he was hurting her while demanding she tells him everything he feels he's entitled to know, despite hiding things himself. the moment rena gets angry and snaps back at him though, that's actually a reason to be scared, a reason to feel as though something is inherently wrong. after all it's wrong for girls to present themselves as anything but available and nice at all times. anything else makes them ‘abnormal’. ‘hysterical’, even.

we focus entirely on the horror of rena's seemingly sudden change, so the harm keiichi is causing becomes a literal afterthought the same way it’s one for him, even though that’s the real horror of the situation. he's an unreliable narrator, and an example of how the narration can lie to you while criticizing you for taking it at face value. keiichi is SO self-centered in this arc that even when he learns that satoshi is a houjou, and is satoko's brother - he never stops to consider what this means for satoko or the club as a whole who actually knew him, it's all about Him and His Problems (HE’S LITERALLY DEAD FOR ALL THEY KNOW OF COURSE THEY’RE GOING TO AVOID TALKING ABOUT HIM ESPECIALLY WHEN IT MIGHT BE TRIGGERING FOR SATOKO IN PARTICULAR). keiichi’s viewpoint first and foremost is that he's THE victim. that’s the most important thing to him throughout this arc. even when mion tells him to drop the 'satoshi' act bc it's actively hurtful for those around him who are still grieving satoshi’s loss, all he does is hurt her the same way he’s been hurting rena.

we also have ooishi (mfw you dig into a girl's background and medical history with mental illness then talk about it to her classmate without her consent bc you want to use him as bait for your investigation!!!!!! THERE’S A REASON THE ONLY TWO ARCS WHERE OOISHI DOESN’T SUCK HARD AS A PERSON ARE MINAGOROSHI AND MATSURIBAYASHI WHERE HE FINALLY STOPS ACTING LIKE SUCH A FUCKING COP (HIGURASHI SAYS ACAB BTW REAL AND TRUE)) telling keiichi about rena, and even when it’s BLATANTLY clear that the three male friends hurt rena in some way and they are ashamed of their actions which is why they seemingly took a deal to not press charges together with the school so as to not have charges pressed against them, we have keiichi doubling down instead of stopping to consider that, maybe, she didn’t “undergo a sudden change” and attacked them before breaking all of the windows in the school for no reason whatsoever. maybe they did something to trigger her. he never stops to consider that, maybe, rena is actually a victim in the situation. “rena has a disorder that normal people don’t” is a funny line when taken out of context, but it’s just keiichi continuing to frame rena as Abnormal, Cursed, and Weird for being mentally ill. it’s especially clear in the door slamming scene, where it’s just rena trying to pacify a clearly stressed out keiichi with some light teasings, only for everything to backfire and for keiichi to react so violently...but, still, rena continues to stand outside, apologizing. she feels so bad. no matter how ‘monstrous’ keiichi’s actions become, she’ll continue to be there for him bc she understands.

the fact that tsumihoroboshi reveals that keiichi shot a little girl and he also damaged her eye the same way rena permanently damaged one of the boys’ eyes is literally the narrative chiding YOU AND KEIICHI for ever judging rena for the same crime he committed, and the reason they never elaborate on why rena did this is bc it literally doesn’t matter! you and keiichi aren’t owed rena’s background and the things she wishes to keep a secret to justify to yourself not treating her like a monster! not treating someone like a monster for their past and struggles with mental illness is just basic decency, they don’t owe you the details or justifications. tsumihoroboshi keiichi agonizing over the girls not knowing his admittedly terrible past and them being like "we don't need to know literally everything about you, man, if you want to keep this shit a secret, it's okay" is very important bc it’s fine to draw boundaries and it’s okay to keep secrets, you don’t need to tell everything about yourself and have others do the same thing back to consider them friends!!! secrets are important in friendship!!!!!!

this is also a good example of how you can make ANYTHING seem scary when it’s taken out of context. you can misinterpret anything you want when you’re missing critical information. you can ignore everything about a person you know and all the obvious clues that point towards the opposite conclusion if you want to demonize them and victimize yourself. if you want you will believe you’re right. that’s what keiichi keeps doing this arc every time he’s told something vague about rena by ooishi.

onikakushi after tsumihoroboshi’s recontextualization becomes a horror story told from the perspective of the actual ‘monster’, arguing its own justification and validating itself for hurting others while framing them as the monsters. the ones with the reason to be afraid and run away in this arc are always rena and mion, but they don't, not at any point - rather, they keep trying to reach out to him, bc while keiichi insists on seeing them as monsters, they never see him as one regardless of his actions, and keiichi isn’t a monster either bc despite the fact that his actions are fueled by his self centeredness and ego, it's also his shelterdness and own trauma and he’s still a victim struggling with psychosis. he deserves to be forgiven despite everything. there’s a reason onikakushi’s poem is the one about forgiveness, THIS IS WHAT RENA IS TRYING TO TELL KEIICHI. 

onikakushi is also really tragic from rena’s perspective especially with how higurashi is painfully aware of the reality wherein girls have to present themselves as nice all the time, they need to be this ideal to be palatable (rena’s whole Cute Schoolgirl thing is an act born from her internalized misogyny basically), and yet even when they do, they’re still susceptible to be subjected to violence based on the assumptions of boys and men. this is something that has been haunting rena for her entire life.

she came back to hinamizawa, regretting her parents’ divorce and hurting others, promising she'll never hurt anyone again, and promising she'll always be nice, no matter what happens to her, then keiichi comes along and everything seems fine, they’re friends and he’s kind even though he’s a little mean sometimes, but despite the kindness he showed initially, he still ended up screaming at her, grabbing her, getting mad at her for reasons she can't understand. that’s what her father did. maybe the boys in her school too.

rena is also being affected negatively by everything happening since the festival. she’s manic, she’s scared of falling victim to the curse bc she’s always felt like she’s being punished by oyashiro-sama for ‘sinning’ (leaving hinamizawa), and she has her own struggles with mental illness, but despite all of this she’s still trying so hard to be good, trying so hard to reach out to keiichi and she even explicitly says this at multiple points - that she doesn’t want the same thing that happened to satoshi to happen to him, and she feels so guilty for not being able to do anything a year ago when satoshi disappeared, bc she knows what it’s like to struggle with these things and how horrifying of an experience that is, but keiichi just refuses to let her help - yet rena continues trying, even as keiichi is bludgeoning her with the metal bat, she’s trying, she always will, bc she wants to grant him the thing she wasn’t given while struggling with the same things. she knows how scary it is and she doesn’t want anyone to feel that scariness. if nobody is going to forgive keiichi SHE WILL, but keiichi needs to forgive her too for things to begin changing. rena. rena. rena. i love you rena...

the whole point is that rena isn't some kind of monster who's going to indiscriminately attack others bc she's ~oh so crazy~ beneath the cute girl mask (tsumihoroboshi makes this blatantly clear with how rena only kills rina and teppei bc she feels like she’s been backed into a corner) and keiichi needs to stop being ableist (keiichi himself is pretty sympathetic despite this ofc, bc you understand from being in his head how he arrived at all of these conclusions). after all higurashi is about how mental illness is pathologized and demonized especially in women.

keiichi is constantly torn between two assumptions in this arc: 1) that his friends and rena especially are evil people who have been lying to him all this time or 2) that they’re being possessed by oyashiro-sama to do these things bc the curse exists, but isn’t the core of both of these assumptions pretty ableist? you shouldn’t vilify people for being mentally ill in such a way and you shouldn’t blame their actions on things such as Being Possessed and Being Cursed.

watanagashi also follows up with shion who’s very much a girl attacking and hurting others, bc of how she's been hurt all her life to show that ignoring the person she is makes everything worse for her even if it doesn’t justify what she’s doing. after all keiichi is content to blame what she’s doing on the ‘demon inside her’ instead of trying to see her for who she is. his thoughtless actions and words in this arc lead to much hurt for mion and shion. tatarigoroshi is him selfishly killing teppei in a such a way that he’s robbing satoko of any agency or say in her abuse without considering how this could impact her. his actions leave her even MORE traumatized, blaming herself for how everything turned out for the worst.

when you think of the syndrome as an allegory, keiichi breaking through the syndrome with the help of memory leaks isn't just him overcoming his paranoia, but also him learning to look beyond himself and see how others could be hurt by his actions and words etc etc, which is why tsumihoroboshi is about him atoning for how he hurt everyone and helping rena in much of the same way she was trying to help him in onikakushi. it’s him finally returning the favor. tsumihoroboshi is higurashi’s turning point, bc keiichi finally stops being such a casual misogynist, he stops demonizing rena and tries to understand her, he starts to realize that his struggles and experiences aren’t inherently more valid than the girls’ in his life, and he starts to listening to them more...

#sorry this is probably an incoherent mess but i've been rereading the series and going insane again #higurashi #gamo.txt

[cosmicbash]

I saw this too late :’( but aren’t Em’s boobs in those pics just MWAH? Cant you imagine a very enthusiastic Kelly trying to convince Marshall to get a nipple piercing and mister grumpy grandpa Mathers just getting absolutely appalled and horrified by that request. Then maybe Colson finds him looking up online sex shops for nipple clamps.

(((I just found this sitting unposted in my drafts????? and its good?? so why didnt i ever hit post??))

Em's boobs just looked so squeezable 😩😩

I envy that guy who copped a feel after Em teased him over their neverending handshake.

If only that could be ME

Also you are NEVER TOO LATE to say ANYTHING about Ems tits in an ask. That IMMEDIATELY revives my artistic spirit. I need those tits like water bby and I know kells would too.

Also nipple piercing em is 😏🥴🥴

So. Ahem

TittyTitTittyTitTittyTitTransitionTit

They've been laying in Colson's bed bickering over it for at least a half hour. Their once content not!snuggling and casual body exploration falling apart completely in favor of an argument.

"Come on, just one little hoop-"

"Ha!"

"It doesn't even hurt that bad I swear babe-"

Marshall's next snort sounds almost gutteral with how hard he holds back another mocking fit of laughter. "Doesn't even hurt- yeah, cuz a literal needle jabbing through one of the most sensitive spots on my body to rip flesh out and make a hole is like playing patty cake-"

"Oh come on, when you word it all fucking extra like that of course it'll sound bad- look-" Colson knew feeling offended was a little stupid but he has never let being stupid stop him before. "If anyone between the two of us has a more accurate pain scale for piercings do you really think its the one that has a single set of pierced ears? Hm? Or maybe the dude with like a dozen-"

This time Marshall did laugh openly at him, tone shifting over to a properly annoyed one.

"Really? Your pain scale is super fucking skewed Colson! How many times this year did you smash literal bottles and shit over your head? Divebomb off a stage to bust your ribs? Sleep through nasty tattoo spots? Don't you dare try and act like I'm being a pussy over nothing."

It's out of Colson's mouth before he can stop himself. His childish selfish wants completely winning out in a "Pftt, well you totally are."

Regret wells up just as fast in him as the anger does in Marshall's eyes. His semi comfortable spot sat over the other man's lap rapidly upseated in a flurry of fast movement. "Fuck you."

"Fuck. Em, come on-" Colson knows when he's stuffed his foot in his mouth and this is definitely one of the worser times. He should have been more mindful of the tension already present, or of his partners ever denied sensitivity to such subject. But the match is lit under Marshall's fire now.

"Some of us don't have a pile of pills or gallons of alcohol to hide behind everytime we go out and fuck our body up some more you know-"

And there it is. The always accurate defensive jab off Marshall's sharp tongue.

It hurts more this time than Colson expects it to. Maybe because he knows he deserves it for pressing and trying to guilt trip the other rapper. And maybe because he knows by now he really should be getting his shit together so the other man doesn't have such an easy diss to throw his way.

To their credit though, he can see a flash of regret pass over Marshall's face too as soon as it comes out.

Not that it stops the brunette from getting dressed any further, or slows his obvious escape.

"I'm--" sorry. Colson can almost hear it. See the word curl and shape on Marshall's lips, but the anxiety further up in blue eyes prevents it. They both know it wont allow it to come out. So another exasperated noise does instead, hands flying up to rake through the rare hatless head before Marshall is moving again. Sweats yanked up and feet thankfully left bare.

"It's my fucking nipple you asshole."

And then he's gone. Out of Colson's room without another outburst. Off to lick his wounds or more so, allow Colson to lick his own.

A few months ago the blonde would have chased after, continued the shouting until it teetered on that scary ledge of physical, their fingers grabbing too tight at eachothers skin, fists shaking, anything to keep Marshall from leaving.

But now? He's learned enough to take note of the shoes in the corner of his room, the discarded kangol, wallet and keys neatly tucked away in the spare nightstand, and so many other little anchors locking Marshall down around the room. It's just space. Space needed to run and cool off somewhere else in the house, prevent a bigger fight. A smart skill Colson should really use more himself.

So he rolls himself over into the warm emptied spot on the bed and waits. Ego wounded and heart a little sore by his own fault.

It only takes an hour for Marshall to come back and even less time than that for Colson to file his horny nipple ring tugging dreams far far away in his mind. An argument decidely NOT for another day or at all if he knows whats best for them.

Keeping Marshall back curled in his bed is obviously whats best. It keeps that gnawing need to drink his sorrows away, and makes the world's edges feel less sharp.

He wants to apologize as soon as he hears the click of the bedroom door, but he manages to bite it back until sock padded feet are thumping softly across his carpet beneath the bed. A rough sounding "Sorry-" leaving his tongue before he even sees Marshall walk into his line of vision. It's the one thing he has on the other man, his ability to actually say the word first, without painful prodding. And he's not going to let go of it no matter how petty he wants to be.

"Don't." The older man is sighing, but in a soft way. It drags his eyes away from the wall finally. The relief he feels just seeing Marshall back standing there in his room quickly replaced by a blip of confusion.

He's got stuff clutched to his chest, a bottle of peroxide, wipes, some plastic packaging. And up further Colson can see how embarrassment is burning his cheeks pink above his dark beard. His expression twisted into one of discomfort.

"Well?"

"Well?" Colson feels even more confused. Marshall is acting like the little bottle in his hand might as well be a bouquet of apology roses and he can't for the life of him figure out why.

"You gonna fucking pierce me or not?" He's chewing the insides of his cheeks. Usually Colson finds this cute but his ears are still ringing from the question. Excitement racing through his veins like gasoline lit by a match.

It's not surprise he practically jumps off the bed. "For real?? For real, for real??" He has to be dreaming, he must've slipped right off into a depression nap at some point while Marshall was gone because there's no way the other man can be serious.

But he is. Hands discarding the clutter of alcohol wipes, peroxide, and clean packaged piercers needles on the bed like it's nothing. "If you're telling me you sat here running your mouth and can't put your money to it now then I'm seriously gonna smack you this time-" Marshall's huffing at him, hands a little shakey while he wrestles off his shirt. "I had to bullshit to your bassist that you were having a manic episode and wanted a new piercing to get all this shit so, don't think you're getting off scott free either. I'm not having those dudes speculate where I let you pierce me if they see you come down without a new one-"

"Oh my god-" Colson still can't grasp reality. He's never won an argument this hard against Em before. Usually his crazy ideas are just whacked back down with a bat. He almost feels like he should cry.

Marshall looks like he wants to as well, but for a different reason. His anxiety visible in the twitchy movements of his hands and the squint of his face. "Please don't tell me you toked your brains out while I was gone-"

"No!" That jerks Colson back to full functionality. His hands moving to grab at the items and heart racing like a horse in his chest. "I-- I just needed a minute to- fuck- to fuckin process that-- you're serious? You're really serious about doing this?"

"Getting less by the second."

God he wants to kiss him. And shit, he does, hand coming up to drag the older rapper down by his neck and seal their mouths together in a firm smooch. Grin breaking their lips apart when he just can't hold back his giggles anymore. "Holy shit, I'm so fucking excited-"

"Shut up." He can feel just how hard Marshall's own heart is galloping when he lets his hand drag down the man's chest after they part. Palm pausing over the hard punch against skin like a magnet. He's certain that's not excitement, which makes it even hotter.

The dudes terrified but still willing to go through with this to please him.

He's gonna suck his dick so hard after they're done. Hell, he'll shove him down on the bed and ride him until sunset. This is a bazillion times better than apology roses.

"You do, uh, know what you're doing right?"

Colson does NOT. But he grins and nods his head anyway. He knows how to give someone a piercing yeah, he's done tons of his own and other peoples. Through the nipple though? That's gonna be a first, but his other hand is already tapping away super fast and discreetly on his phone while he pushes Marshall down to sit in his emptied space on the bed. "I got you baby-" He's gonna wikihow his way through this before anyone changes their mind.

#bahahahahah #and then he jabs Em and Em full on slaps him in the face because it hurts so bad #emgk #asks #i love asks

[moa-broke-me]

The first time she hit him, he was shocked.

Not because he hadn't been hit before. But because all those people that hit him were cold and cruel and drunk. And she was nothing like that. She was completely sober, and she was normally so warm, so loving and kind and sweet. Even she looked surprised, glancing down at her hand and back up at his face like she was having trouble connecting the dots.

He was, too. One moment, she was screaming in his face, and the next, she was standing there in silence, and his cheek stung. He could even feel a small cut from the gem in her engagement ring.

It was a long time before either of them spoke, but eventually, she broke the silence.

"... Don't look at me like that. You know I didn't mean it, right?" She asked, her voice straining to be even and calm, but wavering with barely-disguised desperation. "I'd never hurt you on purpose, I just get so wound up sometimes and... I act without thinking. I'm so sorry, baby."

Leo nodded. "I-I know. It's ok." He cringed at his stutter, making him look weak, making him look like a kicked puppy. Which, in all honesty, is exactly how he felt. "Well, if you're so sorry, can you, um... P-patch me up, at least?"

Her expression soured. "You know how to do it yourself, don't you?" She asked. "The bandages are in the medicine cabinet."

He nodded and smiled, walking off to the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He decided not to dress the wound right away, and instead to take a shower.

So she wouldn't hear him crying.

She used to make him feel happy, make him feel... Safe.

From there, it only got worse. Now, every nickname, every touch, was nerve-racking. When she hugged him, it felt like a snake coiling itself around him, sizing him up to see if she could swallow him whole.

The anxiety got so bad, he could barely even eat. She judged him when he did, anyway. The only times he didn't feel ashamed was when he snuck to the fridge in the dead of night and frantically stuffed his face. Even then, there was the looming threat of her wandering down for the bathroom or water and seeing him pig out.

It was like one moment, she was the perfect, loving girl that he proposed to, that he would die for, and the next... She was unrecognizable. And all he could do was sit there and take it, and wait for her tantrum to be over so she could apologize and say she didn't mean it, and the cycle would start again.

If he ran, she would just throw something at him, and he didn't fight back because even when she threatened his life, he still loved her, and still didn't want to see her hurt. After a while, he didn't have the strength to anyway.

He didn't wanna call the cops, because nobody would believe him, and he didn't want to be believed, really. He loved her. He didn't want her to go behind bars, he just wished that she would stop. None of his friends knew, either. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen his friends in a while, at least a month or two. Didn't even call them, and every time they called him, he kept it short and acted like everything was normal.

He didn't work either, she insisted he stay around the house, living off of her dad's inheritance money. He rarely had an excuse to leave the house, which he supposed was a good thing, because his leg ached from one of their more intense fights. He should've gone to the hospital, but she reminded him that they're living on a fixed income.

And he was still gonna marry her. Because he's spent too much of his life alone, and nothing is worse than that.

One night, though, things went too far.

"You never even talk to me anymore, let alone come to me when you're upset! I hear you crying, y'know. But do you ever cry for me? No! You cry for your mommy." She yanked him closer to her by his hair. "Your mommy is dead and has been for years, move the fuck on!"

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. He'd been beaten and broken and insulted and screamed at and he'd taken it all in stride, but that was just too far. He wrenched himself from her grasp and caught his breath for a minute. "... Y'know why I never cry for you? That's why."

"Oh, what, because I'm not dead yet?"

"Because you're mean!" The words ripped from his throat before he could think.

She looked more enraged than he'd ever seen her before, and grabbed him by the collar. "I'll show you what mean looks like."

He just realized that they were at the top of the stairs. He was waifishly thin by now, and it took no effort for her to throw him down the stairs.

He woke up in a hospital room, noticing the single flower on the side table. It was from Calypso, he thinks she called it a tiger lily. And despite all the trauma and cynicism, for a moment, he smiles. For a moment, his heart flutters, seeing her name in beautiful cursive script that he can't read. She loves me! He thinks. Somewhere deep inside, she does love me!

She does this every time, makes a big romantic gesture to apologize for hurting him, and the trick never gets old. Because even though, deep down, he knows he's been had, he pushes it aside and indulges in the rush of love he feels anyway. It's the only comfort he can get these days.

The door opened, and in came Jason, sitting next to him. "Hey... Heard you fell down the stairs. I hope you remember who I am."

Leo laughed a little. "Yeah, yeah, I remember."

Jason smiled, and then held up a bag. "Oh, Nico bought you this earlier yesterday." He pulled it out, and it was a red floral silk tie. "It's, um... For your wedding tonight. Well, I guess that'll be postponed now, huh?"

Leo looks down at the tie, and he knows he should be happy, but he feels his throat tie in a knot. "About that... I, uh..." This had been on his mind since that first incident, but he banished the thought before it could form. "... I'm not so sure about the wedding anymore."

"Really? Why?"

Suddenly, he was shaking, and he couldn't form words, and his bottom lip was trembling, and oh god... He was crying.

Jason tried to put a hand on his back, but he flinched, and started to panic, breaking into sobs. "Hey, hey, it's ok... It's ok, Leo, it's just me."

He started to calm down, but he was still so scared. He'd always been so scared.

Jason stared at him for a while. "... I'm gonna kill her."

(does anyone want a part 2?)

#abuse tw #valdangelace #leo valdez #jason grace #nico di angelo

[thedocs-in]

Military School Pt.2

Apologies for taking so long on this. Life got a little hectic around Christmas time, and I just haven't had the time since. But things have finally calmed down enough that I had the chance to make those edits.

But here is part 2, I will get part 3 up as soon as possible. But it might take a bit since I have to re-write it. And hopefully I can get more Cecil art done. As well as drawing his dad because, fuck it, why not.

Link to Pt.1

TW: blood, injuries, mentions of the foster system

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking through the empty halls with his father, there was a growing tension between the two. He was dreading the ride home, knowing as soon as they stepped through the door, he was gonna be on the receiving end of a tongue lashing. While his dad rarely yelled at him, this situation was different. He was on the verge of getting kicked out of the only high school in town and there weren’t many options for him.

Exiting the school, he was hit by the warm evening air. Despite the sun nearly being down, the air still felt sticky. Looking around he noticed only a handful of cars in the parking lot. Given how long he had been sitting in the office he wasn’t surprised. Normally he would’ve been home by now, but he wasn’t expecting to get into a fight after school. A fight that the jackass senior started and was blaming him for. In his own defense, he didn’t throw the first punch. But it didn’t matter.

Reaching his dads’ car, he reached for the door handle before being stopped when his dad called for him. “Hold up. Let me check your nose first.”

Turning around, he faced his dad and braced himself. As his father’s fingers prodded at his nose, pain erupted, and he violently jerked back.

His dad hummed, “Hmmm… should be an easy fix. I can put it back into place as soon as we get home.”

His father stepped back and walked around to the drivers’ side. Sighing, he pulled open the passenger side door and slid in. Shutting the door behind him. As he buckled himself in, his dad started the car and pulled out of the parking space.

For the most part it was a quiet ride, the radio was off, and the only other sounds would be the occasional passing car that would break the silence.

A few minutes go by when he finally mustered the courage to say something, “So, should I be packing my bags for Marlin academy?”

For what felt like forever they both sat there in silence, nothing but road noise filling the void.

His dad sighs, “Were you telling the truth? Were you really just protecting your friend?”

“Yeah, that senior threw the first punch when I went to talk to him.”

“You really went to just talk?” His dad raised his brow.

“Yeah, I really tried to deal without fighting this time.”

His dad got quiet for a moment, “I know you wouldn’t throw the first punch without a good reason. You’re not getting off easy at home by the way, you will be doing all the schoolwork you’re gonna be missing as well as extra chores…” His dad paused for a second, “You really went off on that kid, not gonna lie though, he did kind of deserve it. Probably learned to act that way from his dad.”

“Kind of like how I got my foul mouth from you?”

His dad chuckled softly, “Yeah kind of… Listen, you can’t keep getting into fights, or at least ones that severe. One day someone will call the cops on you, and I won’t be able to help you. I know you don’t like it when assholes get away with doing bad shit, but you can’t always take justice into your own hands. You’ll find yourself in a situation where you’ll just have to accept the consequences.”

Looking down at his hands, they ached in pain. And he knew they were gonna be bruised tomorrow. He started to use the rag to try and wipe off the blood.

His dad must’ve seen him messing with his hands, “Knuckles hurt?”

“Yeah, a little bit.” He replied as he rubbed his thumb in between in knuckles.

His dad smirked, “I’ll get you some ice when we get home. Hopefully you didn’t break anything, I can’t do anything about that. Honestly… and I’m not trying to encourage you or anything, but I’m impressed that you were able to kick his ass.”

He smiled, “Kinda makes you think that he’s not all that great of a football player.”

The older Stedman laughed, “Haha, no shit. I wonder what’s more hurt his ego, for getting his ass handed to him by a 14-year-old, or the fact that he’s gonna be missing some games till he’s off probation?”

“Probably both.”

Silence quickly took over, nothing but the sound of the road and the occasional passing car.

After a couple minutes they finally pull into the driveway of their little home. Hopping out of the car, he started to make his way to the front door when he heard his dad call him.

“Go get the first aid kit and meet me in the bathroom, gotta get the mail first.”

Nodding his head, he bounds up the front porch and unlocks the front door. Going inside.  and goes straight for the first aid kit in the laundry room. Grabbing it, he darts to the bathroom down the hall and sets it on the bathroom counter.

Looking in the mirror, the skin under his eyes and across his nose was starting to change color; his lip swollen. Dried blood stained the lower half of his face and neck.

As he inspected his face, he heard the door open and shut. Keys being tossed into the bowl by the door. And his father’s footsteps coming towards the bathroom.

Turning to the door, his dad stood there. “You may want to leave your shirt on, it’s already ruined. Might as well use it to keep blood from getting anywhere else.”

Nodding his head, he stepped aside to let his dad grab what he needed.

“You know the drill, edge of the tub.” His dad washed his hands, glancing over at him briefly. “Do you need something to bite on?”

Thinking back to the last time he broke his nose, he remembered how he had bitten his cheek so hard last time he could taste blood for nearly two weeks straight. “Yeah, I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

His dad held out a scrap of leather that came from an old belt. Taking it, he remembered all the times he’s had to bite down on it when he got hurt. Usually from doing something stupid, like the time he climbed the tree in the backyard and the branch he was stepping on broke out from under him; resulting in a nasty cut on his leg that required stitches. Putting the scrap between his teeth, he braced himself.

Finished at the sink, his dad sat down on the toilet, “Alright, the sooner this is done the sooner I can start dinner. You ready?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He watched as his dad used a little rod to push the broken bit of bone back into place. Biting down on the leather, he squeezed his eyes shut. Trying his best to block out the pain.

With a click, he felt his nose pop back into place. Slowly opening his eyes, tears blurred his vision. Through blurry vision he watched as his dad’s packed his nose with gauze. Which only sent more pain throughout his face. Blinking, he cleared his vision and looked at his dad. The same serious expression plastered on his face.

Soon his nose was all patched up and his dad leaned back, “Alright you’re all done, you know the drill be careful with your nose. Painkillers are in the cupboard, make sure you take it now, so it’ll kick in sooner.” His dad stood up and was about halfway out of the bathroom door before stopping, “Oh, and take a shower before dinner, you’re uh… smelling a little ripe. And be sure to tape up your nose as soon as you’re done.”

Nodding his head, he watched as his dad strolled out of the bathroom. Leaving him to get cleaned up. Standing up, he went to his room. Rifling through his closet for clean clothes. Grabbing the first thing he saw; he quickly went back to the bathroom, taking the painkillers before hopping into the shower. Within 15 minutes he’s cleaned up. Before exiting, he taped his nose up. Silently, he walked out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, ruined shirt in hand.

Walking into the kitchen, his dad had his back to him. Focused on the stove, finishing up their dinner.

Holding up his shirt, he makes his presence known, “Hey dad, inside or outside garbage?”

His dad turns his head, “Hm? Oh, uh, outside, just make sure you bury it under the other stuff. Hate for the raccoons to shred your shirt on the front lawn.” His dad chuckled. “That’d be an awkward conversation with the neighbors, don’t want them to think I beat you. Dinner will be ready any second, made some soup, so be quick.”

Going out the backdoor, he walked over to the garbage can. Pulling off the lid, and pulling a few bags out, before burying the shirt deep in the trash. Replacing the lid, he went back in the side door and looked into the dining room, his dad already sitting at the table.

His dad motioned for him to join, “Dinner’s ready.”

Sitting across from his dad, the two of them silently ate their dinner.

As he ate, the situation of the whole situation started to settle in. Causing a knot to form in his stomach. Setting the spoon down, he stared at the bowl in front of him. Wondering what was going to happen.

His dad noticed, “You okay? Does it hurt to eat?”

Shaking his head, he continued to stare at the bowl, “Do you think they’re gonna believe me? I know you said you weren’t gonna send me to military school, but it’s not like there any other high school in town. Except maybe the Catholic school.”

His dad set his elbows on the table and put his hands together. He was quiet for a minute and sighed. “I’m not sure. Honestly, it seemed like principal Owens was on your side, considering how ‘jackass’ had reacted, but I’m not sure. I’m certainly not sending you to the Catholic school. Nothing against the church, I just don’t think it would be a good idea to send you to a Catholic school. You’d get yourself kicked out on day one. No offense kid, but you swear too much for someone your age. But that’s on me. As for the military school, it may be our only option, considering driving you back and forth to the next town over wouldn’t make things easy.”

His dad leaned back in the kitchen chair, “You may have screwed the pooch on this one kid. But no matter what happens we’ll figure something out, we always do.”

He laughed nervously, “You could always send me to live aunt Sarah or uncle Ollie, and I could go to school where they live.”

His dad stiffened up, and his expression changed to one that was a mixture of sadness and concern. “Hey, hey! I don’t want to hear that. I threaten you a lot with military school, but I’m not gonna send you off to live with relatives. I refuse to be one of those parents that pawns their kid off on someone else when they get out of hand. I know I’m a bit of a hardass, but I just want what’s best for you.”

His dad rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I didn’t have my parent’s growing up, and I don’t want you to go through something like that. It doesn’t matter if they are my siblings, I’ve got nothing against them, but I want to raise my own damn child."

A sad silence took over the Stedman household, both of them staring at their dinner. A twinge of guilt rose in his chest; his dad rarely talking about being raised in the foster system after his mom had died, but he should’ve known better than to bring it up.

He sheepishly broke the silence, “Dad, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Don’t be, we both got screwed in the family department.” His dad scoffed, “I mean for fucks sake the only person I’ve met on your mother’s side, is your mother.”

The rest of dinner passed quietly, and the two did their evening routines, winding down from a hectic day. Hunched over his homework, he heard a knock at his bedroom door. Looking at the door, his dad stood in the open doorway.

“Lights out kid, you may not be going to school tomorrow, but you’re not staying up all night.”

Nodding his head, he closed his math book and sat up, “Yes sir.”

His dad then walked away leaving the door open, light from the hallway illuminating his room. Getting up from his desk, he shut off the desk lamp as he walked away. Padding off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking in the mirror, a large purple bruise had begun to grow. Spreading across his cheeks and his nose. Sighing, he spit out the remaining toothpaste in his mouth and went back to his room. Exhausted, he crawled into bed. Reaching up he shut off the lights above his bed and quickly passed out.

#cecil stedman #invincible show #invincible #tw: injury #tw: blood #so i sorta imagine that cecil grew up in alabama #why because his va is from there and i can just sorta see it #his dads a good dad #despite being a hardass #but his dad is sorta strict cause he was in the military #his mom on the other hand is not #i should really get those family headcannons out #soon i'll get them out soon #his dad is sorta the reason he is the way he is

[sleepykamukura]

i think ashe is one of the most agonizing characters for me to think about because she’s just like me

her family is a shitshow. i’ve never seen people acknowledge that her parents were genuinely abusive past “ashe’s family sucks.”

neglect is abuse, manipulation is abuse, and it’s implied in a one-off that her mother threatens to hit her

so, long long ramble analysis of ashe’s parents

Graduation Day

ashe’s day starts well, excited to graduate, finally be out of a shitty school with shittier peers. her parents promised to be there, and they weren’t. this also isn’t the first time, according to ashe

she’s upset, she wants to be alone. unfortunately, being alone is what gets her into trouble

The Fight

so obviously a 17yo girl getting cornered by two teenage boys is definitely not a great situation, and the cops not believing ashe was defending herself baffles me

her parents have me even more confused. do you have so little care for your kid that you’re more worried about your image than your safety?

they tell her they’ll disown her, which is fucked. this is a threat, this is abuse

Calamity

when the original gang(tm) have her come up with a code name for their trip to cutthroat trout’s, ashe doesn’t think of a nickname or something badass, she thinks of her mother fussing at her over an accident

The House

this is the biggest piece to me.

ashe’s parents are home on her birthday, they’re angry, they’re either unaware of or unbothered by the fact a kid (cole) has been kidnapped off their property, they’re unbothered that their daughter was inside a burning building, they’re more bothered by their money being at risk

“Oh honestly, Elizabeth,” she said, sounding exasperated, “did you really believe we were going to disown you? Our only child?”

Ashe blinked at her parents, utterly bewildered.

“You were out of control,” her father continued. “You needed to be taught a lesson. Yes, it was a drastic step to make you think we were going to cut you off, but something needed to be done to convince you to clean up your act!”

The world seemed to warp around Ashe, twisting in some way she couldn’t comprehend. Were they telling the truth? Or was this simply a performance, a rewriting of the punishment they’d threatened, in order for her parents to save face in front of Bellerae’s police force?

Something needed to be done.

You needed to be taught a lesson.

to me, this implies that ashe’s parents rewrite their punishments frequently when it doesn’t go how they want to emotionally confuse her

Her mother looked surprised, but only for a moment. Then her eyes went hard. “You know, Elizabeth, I used to think you were misguided, a little too spirited for your own good. I thought having to confront the idea of being on your own would be to your benefit. But now I know better: At your core, you’re nothing more than a base, common criminal.”

“Strange,” said Ashe, glaring right back. “I would have thought that made me the perfect candidate to work with you and all those corporate buddies whose boots you line up to lick.”

Her mother’s hand flickered up, as if she was about to slap Ashe, but it stopped halfway. “Sheriff,” she called instead. “Get over here.”

wow! ok! even if she doesn’t actually hit her, its still wrong to threaten people (let alone your kids) with physical violence

The Aftermath (Part One)

Less than an hour later, she was free. And poor, once again. Her bail, covering the many crimes she was accused of, had been astronomical—taking almost everything there was in the gang’s shared account. That had left a feeling like a hole in her gut, but it was nothing compared to the one eating deeper and deeper as the minutes ticked by and the Diamondbacks still had [Cole]. And yet, she couldn’t help but reflect on how her parents’ interference had left her exactly where they had intended—eighteen, penniless, and without anywhere to call home.

But even if her blood relations had cast her aside, Ashe had found a new family to take their place.

And one of those people was in trouble.

ashe’s family isn’t blood anymore. her parents have hurt her over and over again for eighteen years, and to me i can interpret this of her being drained of every possible drop of love for her parents. they don’t seem to love her, why should she be obligated to love them? the gang treats her better, they respect her, they’re an emotionally stable environment.

The last few months had been the first time in years she’d been happy in this house. Now she was walking its halls for what was likely the final time.

The thought didn’t bother her half as much as she might have expected.

the house is devoid of ashe’s real family (the gang), making it worthless to her in the end.

Packing only some clothing and a few personal items. Everything else, she was happy to abandon. It wasn’t her, not anymore. In the end, the entirety of her life at Lead Rose Manor came to less than half a rucksack.

nothing in the manor mattered to her, i interpret this as her only things she brought was things she bought with her own money

If her parents had kept their promise, she never would have met [Cole], or Julian, or Frankie. And that opened a bigger hole in her than the thought of never seeing Lead Rose again.

This was no longer her home. Arbalest was no longer her company. And her parents were no longer her family.

<- refer to last excerpt’s comment

The Aftermath (Part Two)

right after ashe declares the gang is her only family, it’s revealed that julian is the one who betrayed her. obviously this is messed up, it’s upsetting, and she’s angry.

Frankie’s expression turned even stonier than when she’d looked at Julian. “I’m not saying I don’t understand, but … I’d never betray you—or Jesse, or even B.O.B.—like that. I thought you’d know that by now. But I’ll give you that one mistake.” She locked eyes with Ashe. “Next time you doubt me, I’m done. That’s not something I’ll forgive twice. Understood?”

to me this feels like ashe’s treatment in her childhood has altered her perception of others. her parenrs betrayed her and broke promises a lot, at least as far as we’re told. obviously ashe is quick to jump to conclusions, but luckily frankie is willing to give her a chance to learn not everyone is like that

But even though [Cole] was smiling, one of his eyes was nearly swelled shut, and there was dried blood on his chin from a split lip.

Ashe wheeled on Bez and shoved him into the wall of the cavern. “What did you do to him, you son of a—”

this isnt super important, to me it’s just ashe taking on the overprotective role her blood family never did for her

Seeing them now, gathered and wearing their new insignia for the first time, triggered a strange feeling, one that was so unfamiliar it took her a moment to identify it.

Home. This felt like home.

“But more than a gang,” she continued, “we’re a family. And like a real family, once you’re in Deadlock, you’re in it for life.”

ashe’s blood family is gone, but she has the gang now. maybe her methods are harsh, but she does it in a way they gives out the feeling of love and safety her parents never provided for her

The Aftermath (The Finale)

although we don’t see cole’s betrayal, to me it’s implied he was forced to cut contact with ashe. maybe it’s just a throw away line, but ashe remarks that cole promised he’s right, yet he never did. ~20 years with no contact doesn’t seem like something usual for cole, even if he was disagreeing with how deadlock was straying from its original path.

ashe had been stabbed in the back before, first her family, then julian. of course it hurt when she thought cole betrayed her, the first person to attempt to even understand her, the person she was willing to risk her life to save.

cole having contact with ashe probably wasn’t forcefully cut off, but he instead decided it was safer for her and the rest of the gang for him to not contact him, in preparation of his contact being tracked by overwatch to potentially do another operation on the deadlock gang

okay it’s 4:30am and i’ve been writing for 2hrs now and i’m done uhhh i would love any additional content and observations and analysis ^_^ i like seeing other people’s interpretations

#ashe #ashe overwatch #elizabeth caledonia ashe #elizabeth caledonia calamity ashe #cole cassidy #jesse mccree #frankie overwatch #julian overwatch #deadlock rebels #deadlock gang #overwatch #overwatch 2 #ow1 #ow2 #ovw1 #ovw2 #long post #analysis #thoughts #cashe #sort if #rambles #⛓️ #tw abuse

[ronoken]

Dr. Technus

A cleaned up version of a writing prompt project!

Writing prompt: You're a villain, but you find yourself in a situation where you can help a child. What do you do?

***

Three hours after your fight with Superior Force, you see a news blurb about your battle. It’d been a tough one. The marvel of might™ had kicked the ever-loving crap out of your new, and now completely trashed, super suit. You’d held your own, but then he took a particularly hard swing at your dome-covered head and put you clean through a building. The outer wall had buckled, and the resulting partial collapse had given you just enough time to crash through the other side and get the hell out of there.

Fortunately, the building had been occupied, so Superior Force opted to stick around and help rescue civilians instead of finding you and ripping you apart like you were made of tinfoil. Again. This was your fifth attempt at a super suit that could withstand his blows, and he still beat you like you were an ant fighting God, which honestly wasn’t that far off when you considered how freakishly strong the hero in question was. You realize (as you’re wont to do at moments like these) that you’re lucky to be alive.

Now that you’re back in your hidden and extremely evil lair, you get a little curious about the aftermath of the fight. What building had he put you through? You were kind of seeing stars when you hit that wall. There was some screaming. That’s… about all you remember. It’s been a rough day.

Fucking heroes.

You see a newscaster interviewing Superior Force in front of a pile of rubble. Behind him, firefighters are spraying it down. You realize you must have hit a gas line. That would explain the explosion that rocked you, the building that fell on you, and so on.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t stop her before she had a chance to hurt more innocent people,” Superior Force’s voice has a warble to it. It sounds like a mixture of sadness and rage. You have to admit, he’s extremely effective at making you feel like he’s sincere. “Picking a fight in the middle of the street is one thing, but Dr. Technus made a mistake when she decided to attack a children’s hospital.”

You freeze. You feel your blood pounding in your skull. Attacked? A children’s hospital?! You blew up a Dennys! It wasn’t even a particularly good Dennys! What is that idiot blathering about? You…

You went through a building. There was an explosion. There were screams.

Some of those screams were awfully childlike.

“We’ve been digging these children out, but there’s a lot of rubble. We’re trying to be careful, but this is…” Superior Force stops to collect himself. He looks off camera for a moment at what you assume is the remains of the hospital. “She’s a monster. For her victims, for Sunbeam, for all the children she’s killed, I promise you; we will take this murderer down.”

You scream. You throw your broken dome helmet at a monitor where Superior Force is fishing a bloody child out of the rubble. You listen to the newscaster call you a terrorist and a monster. You stare at the cracked screen, and the face of the man who put you through that building.

You remember. Your mind goes back to an image. A little girl with green eyes. Her still body in a hospital bed. Her mother sobbing beside her.

You’re a planner. A schemer. You always have been. You rarely go into a situation without having examined every potential outcome. It’s why you’re still alive. It’s why you’re one of the most dangerous villains in the world.

You almost never act without having a plan.

Almost.

You grab your portal gun.

***

Getting in was easy. You’ve had a portal gun for years. You don’t often use it because admittedly, it takes a lot of the fun out of breaking into places. When you just want to slip in and out, though? Portal gun. Most of your criminal empire was funded this way. You’d portal into a bank vault, clean it out, and portal home. No cops, no alarms, no interruptions.

But this isn’t a vault.

You adjust your lab coat around your waist and straighten your tie. Of course you have a tie. You may be a villain, but you’re not a bum. You’re a fucking doctor after all, and you can dress professionally when the mood suits you.

You step out of a storage closet and slip into the busy crowd of doctors and nurses weaving through the halls. The east wing took the blast, but the rest of the hospital was apparently unharmed. Superior Idiot managed to clear the rubble in the space of an hour, and most of the patients and staff that lived were now relocated to new rooms. Still, a lot of people were hurt. A lot of staff were taken out. They’re short-handed, and there’s a lot of wounded.

You pick a room. It doesn’t matter which one; they’re all full. You quietly open the door and step inside to see three curtains for three small beds. The staff had to pile the kids up to find a place for them. The beeping from the machines is annoyingly loud.

You slide the first curtain back. A little girl, no more than eight, is lying in a propped-up hospital bed. She’s wearing pajamas with a blue dog on them. Her skin, dark brown, is crisscrossed with bandages. Her eyes are closed.

You read her chart. She was here for Lymphoma, but now she’s… You glance at the bed sheets and notice they’re flat where her legs should be. You grip the chart in your hand so hard the clipboard cracks.

You read the other two children’s charts. A little boy with muscular dystrophy, now down an eye. A little girl with a heart murmur and a missing arm.

You take notes. You leave and go to the next room. You go to all the rooms.

When you portal back to your evil lair, you resist the urge to throw a tantrum. Tantrums are fun, but they’re not productive. You need to be productive right now.

First and foremost, you consider creating a gun to kill Superior Force. Not maim. Not torture. You want to blast a fucking hole through his head and call it a day. You’ve never… You’ve rarely gone that far.

You stop. You glance at the far wall of your lab, and at the transmogrifier ray you keep in a chrome display case. It’s easily one of your deadliest weapons, and one of the few you actively avoid using.

“She’s a monster. For her victims, for Sunbeam.”

You’ve rarely gone that far, but right now? It’s really tempting.

You shake your head. There’ll be time for killing later. Instead, you roll up your sleeves and get to work.

As you settle in to begin, you immediately recognize a problem. You’re evil. Ergo, you tend to design evil things. A little bio-plague work here, some exo suits there, a killer android or two, you know. The usual. It’s what you do. It’s what you’ve always done. It just comes easy to you. Other stuff? Not so much. You just don’t normally problem-solve for, well, situations like today. You’ve never needed to. You… You’re getting frustrated. You get yourself a coffee from your kitchenette and mix in extra cream and stevia. Deep breaths. This is a problem, and you’re a problem solver. You’re smart. You can do this.

You start with what you know. You pull up your schematics for your cyborg soldiers. God, that was a total bust of an evil scheme. The morons you hired worked just fine at first, but then they got too cocky and tried to go solo. They ended up getting flattened by the Collective Good. Still, you’d come up with some doozies while working with them. Carbon fiber bones. Nerve attachments for limbs. Cybernetics. The works.

Once you dive in, you realize it’s easy work. You’ve done this before. You’ve done all of this before, but never this small. You force yourself not to think about how tiny the fingers on the cybernetic hand are. How small the eye you’re crafting has to be. You look over your notes and pay careful attention to the feedback you received when installing these parts the first time. What hurt. What didn’t. You have to stop when you find your vision blurring as you design a skull plate for an infant.

Dammit. This isn’t what you do. You’re Dr. Technus. You’re a villain. You’re evil.

You think back to what you saw at the hospital.

You remember a little girl with green eyes lying motionless in her bed.

You’re evil. This is true. But you tell yourself that you’re not a fucking monster. You’re not… you’re not that…

You finish the plate. It’s the last piece you need.

You look at your notes and frown. This is already way out of your wheelhouse, but something still feels bad.

Then, it dawns on you.

You know how bad some of their conditions are. You scanned them as you read their charts. You bring up their medical records, one by one. You review how severe each one is. You review the causes.

This can’t be serious, you tell yourself. You’ve made diseases a hundred times worse than this on the regular in your lab. You’ve worked with these cancers and viruses and bacteria a dozen times over, at the very least! You once infected congress with six of these diseases on a whim! You…

You’ve worked with these diseases before.

The thought rolls through your mind like a freight train. You stare at the readouts. The charts. The names of the children. You remember their faces as they slept. You come to a decision.

Nanites are expensive to produce. They take time, they’re a bit finicky, and God do you hate programming them, but you’ve already got the data you need on file. You’ve got the nanite stock saved up for your attack on the financial district this Friday.

You fire up your laptop. The financial district can wait a week. You’ve got priorities.

***

You portal directly into the first room you visited the night before. The children are still there, but this time, they’re awake. You just popped into existence between them and the television on the wall behind you.

Two sets of eyes stare at you. The third child, the one missing an eye, is still asleep.

You stare back. You realize you have less than three seconds before someone screams.

“Well now!” You say in your best authority voice. Thank God you wore your medical coat. Thank God you dressed the part. “Uh, Yeah. Sorry if I surprised you. We’re, we, um, we’re trying some new technology here. At the hospital. I guess it works.”

You grin and wink. The little girl with no legs giggles. The girl with one arm smiles. That was stupidly easy.

You snap your fingers, and a blue portal opens behind you. Three medical drones float out, each carrying a small, metal suitcase. They set them down in a neat row as you click a button on your wrist. The cases let out a small hiss as they open. The medical drones float back a bit and patiently hover in place.

Okay, they’re not really medical drones. They’re part of your murder swarm, but they’re versatile, and their battery casings were large enough you could stencil a medical cross on their sides, so for today, they’re medical drones.

You realize you forgot to remove their machine guns, but then you push the thought to the side. It’s probably not important for this trip. Probably.

You lock eyes with the first girl. She’s nervous, but curious about what you’re up to. “I heard about your, um, your leg situation,” you say. Leg situation? You really are not good at this.

The little girl looks down at where her legs used to be. She rubs her thigh. “The doctors said they were crushed.” You notice the bandages need changing. God, this place must be short staffed, what with everyone dying the other day. Sue looks at you with tears on her cheeks. “Why’d they have to take my legs? Why couldn’t they fix them?”

You bite your lip before remembering that she’s a child and you’re here for a specific reason, and that reason isn’t to be an asshole. “Well,” you start, your mind racing. “So, um, yes. About that. Let’s say they were, um, getting you ready.”

She cocks her head at that. “For what?”

You pick up the new, silver legs you crafted and hold them up for her to see.

“For these.”

Her eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. She covers her mouth with her hands.

You glance at the other little girl and nod. “Give me five minutes. You’re next.”

***

The first little girl (Cassie. She excitedly introduced herself as you attached her right leg) is now walking in circles to get used to her new legs. The second is busy flexing her fingers as you finish installing a cybernetic eye into the still sleeping boy.

“My fingers feel weird,” the second little girl (Amy) says. “Are they supposed to tingle?

You shrug. You don’t look up from your work as you reply. “I just reconnected all five nerve branches in your arm to alien technology. It’s going to take a bit to calibrate your bio signature and recognize all your weird human bits. Just give it time.”

Amy’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. “This is an alien arm?”

Your attention doesn’t waver from the boy in front of you. Why are optic nerves so difficult to work with? “Well, only kind of. I stole the tech from an alien race, but I’ve modified it quite a bit. I’d say it’s about 30% alien? Give or take? Maybe 40%?”

Amy flexes her hand again and grins. “This is so awesome. I can feel things! It’s like a whole new arm!”

“That’s because it’s a whole new arm,” you mutter. You finish with a satisfying click as the eye powers up. It appears to be working, but the boy is still asleep, so asking him is out of the question. You nod. Of course, he’s out. He took a hit to the head. He’s in a coma with potential brain damage.

If only there was a way to fix that…

You smile to yourself.

Cassie jumps in place and laughs. “They feel just like my old legs, but stronger! I feel like I could jump to the moon!”

“I don’t know about the moon, but you’ll find those legs could outrun, um, you could do well in track.” You take out three syringes from the medical drone’s cases. “Now,” you say as you watch their smiles fade at the site of the giant needles in your hands. “Who feels like getting really better?”

You portal from room to room. You kind of have to. Distracted or not, the staff would notice your medical drones following you around. Most of the time, the kids are asleep. Sometimes, you find them awake. That’s not so bad, as the awake ones can verify your tech is working right. By the fifth room, you can hear commotion in the halls. The doctors know someone just performed a miracle. You work fast. You’d prefer not to be noticed.

You have an image to maintain.

It takes two hours, but you manage to treat every single child. Even the ones that weren’t caught in the explosion were paid a visit. You were only spotted once, and that was towards the end. You were in the NICU, installing the skull plate. You’d just finished when you glanced up to see a nurse standing in the doorway watching you. You thought she was going to scream, or run for help, or, well, something, but then you remembered you weren’t in costume. Well, you were, but not your normal one?

“What are you doing?” She asked. She took a hesitant step forward when she realized the baby’s head wasn’t bandaged anymore, but covered her mouth in shock when she heard the infant let out a cry. Per the chart, the child had been in critical condition. Now, the poor thing just wanted a bottle.

The nurse cautiously picked up the baby, her fingers dancing over where the metal plate has been inserted. Already, the nanites had rebuilt most of the skin on her head. In two more minutes, you wouldn’t even be able to see a scar.

The nurse looked up at you as you opened a portal to slip away. You expected her to say something, but she just stared at you, then at the baby, and to your amazement, she turned her back on you to find a bottle in the little table next to the child’s incubator.

You know a cue when you see one, so you stepped back into your portal and blipped out of there.

***

It’s been six weeks since your little crisis of faith. You shook off, labeling it as a momentary bout of insanity, and focused on getting right back to what you did best. You’ve knocked over three banks, two credit unions, and a diamond exchange for good measure. Your little stunt at the hospital had been thorough, and thoroughly expensive. You needed to replenish.

You also had to set the record straight. For example, Vulcan wouldn’t stop running his stupid mouth at the last Legion meeting when you all had more important things to deal with. Lately, meetings had become more focused on whether or not to officially join with the Purge (the premier supervillain organization on the planet) or to stay an independent organization.  There were benefits to both, but you personally weren’t interested in a merger. As it was, you were a senior member in the Legion of Evil. That meant you didn’t have to answer to anyone. Not that you had an issue with the heads of the Purge. Hell, you’d even had dinner with Dyspell last month. Nice gal. Very business focused. Still, you preferred being a big fish in a small pond.

And Vulcan was currently pissing in that pond.

You let his shit talk about you going soft slide the first few times, but the second he started loudly telling everyone about how you should have finished off those stupid brats when you had the chance, you decided enough was enough and put a phaser blast through the back of his skull. You had to admit, the most satisfying part of all of that was watching what amounted to a rock-covered pro wrestler collapse to the floor like, pardon the expression, a bag of bricks.

No one else gave you any crap that night. It was a most productive meeting. The vote to stay independent passed eight to three.

And now here you are, doing what you do best. That being blowing shit up and stealing some cash. Yes, it’s a little base, and armored cars are a little flashy, but you’re feeling the need to express yourself today, and you wanted to test out the latest version of your melting gun you’d been working on, so hey, why not?

With the truck on its side and the drivers knocked out, you help yourself to some cash. As you grab a sack of money, you suddenly notice that the sunlight coming through the hole in the side of the truck is now blocked.

You turn. Floating outside the car is Infinity Lass. Shit. She’s got her arms crossed, and the look on her face is, well, you’re not sure.

You force yourself not to ogle her. The white leotard doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, and you dig the boots. You won’t ever outright admit she was the reason, but you bought some Jeffery Campbell knee-highs from Nordstrom out of sheer envy a while back. Still, fashion aside, you view her as a work problem. A hot work problem, but a work problem.

“Technus,” her voice is firm. How do heroes do that? The clear, projecting commands? Did they all do theater? In the back of your mind, you wonder if they have voice coaches.

“Dr. Technus, if you don’t mind?” You say with as much bravado as you can muster. This was stupid. You came here to test a melting gun, not deal with one of the strongest women on the planet. And no, you can’t melt Infinity Lass. One, it wouldn’t work. Two, it’d piss her off. Three… you wouldn’t get past two. You’d be a stain.

You ready your portal so you can try to slide the hell out of there when she clears her throat. “Dr. Technus,” she says. You pause. Since when do the heroes do manners with you? This is new. Kinda weird. “Would you mind putting down that sack of money and stepping outside?”

The absolute hell?! What is this? Why isn’t she using laser eyes or something? Why the manners? This is legitimately creeping you out. You’re so put off that you actually do as she says. It’s only 10% because she’s hot. That’s what you tell yourself.

You stare her down. This could go any number of ways. Some heroes are easy-peasy, some are a hard time, and some can absolutely wreck your shit. Infinity Lass is solidly in the third camp. Even with a full battle suit, you’d be hard pressed to hold your own. And you’re not in your battle suit; you’re in your stupid skintight heist suit. This is not hero-fighting attire. This is get in-and-out attire. You’re… Dammit. You are not dressed for today. You’ve only got a phase plaster, your cool-but-useless-against-this-problem melting gun, your portal trick, some sonic bees, a plasma grenade… Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You can improvise, but this is already listing itself as a Bad Time in your head.

You tense. You should start with the melting gun. Yeah, it won’t hurt her, but it’ll piss her off. While she’s busy breaking it and yelling at you, you can use the bees. She hates the bees. That’ll buy you ten seconds. Then…

She reaches into her belt and slips out a small envelope. Stunned, you watch as she slowly floats down to your level to hand it to you.

“I was there,” she says in a strained voice as you stare at the envelope. There’s no name on the outside. “I saw what happened that night. The press was wrong. Tom shouldn’t have…” Her eyes go wide as she catches herself. You shrug her off. You know most of their identities, and the moron only covers his with glasses. Seriously, who does that?

Wait, she was there?

You remember the interview.

“We’ve been digging these children out, but there’s a lot of rubble. We’re trying to be careful.”

Superior Force wasn’t using a generic “we.” He was referring to her, but then where was she during the fight?

“You were there?” You ask.

She nods.

“What is this?” You ask. You open the envelope to find a folded crayon picture of a little girl with an oversized silver arm. Next to her is a doodle person in a lab coat. They’re both smiling. The text under it is a bit wobbly, but you can still read it.

“I was sitting with my daughter when you came crashing through the wall,” Infinity Lass keeps her eyes on yours, but you’re focused on the picture in your hand. “I tried to keep the ceiling from collapsing, but it all happened so fast I, I couldn’t...”

“Thank you for the arm?” You realize you just read it out loud. You look up at Infinity Lass, who looks like she’s holding back a lot of emotions.

“My daughter. Amy was, her heart, it…” She wipes her eyes and clears her throat. She’s doing her best not to lose her crap in front of you, and you honestly can’t blame her. You’d be about the same in her shoes. “She collapsed on the playground. The doctors said it was grade five, that she needed surgery, and then her, her arm was…”

And now she does lose it, and you try to be polite and look away. This is not what you came here for, but this is also kind of fascinating. You knew Infinity Lass had a daughter, but you never looked to much into it. Something about a messy divorce, a bad court case, the shitty usual. You knew the broad strokes.

Infinity Lass sniffed as she did her best to compose herself. “Amy says the arm stopped tingling, but it’s acting a little funny. Something about a twitch in her ring finger? Still, it’s, it’s a lot better than no arm. She, um, she asked if I ever saw you to, um, to give you that. And to thank you.”

You hold the paper like it’s made of porcelain. It’s… Oh God. It’s a thank you letter. It’s a thank you letter from a child you helped. This has never happened before. You’re genuinely not sure what you’re supposed to do, but a part of you is screaming that this little piece of paper is worth more than the money behind you.

“She wanted me to thank you,” Infinity Lass stresses. “A part of me realizes none of this would have happened if you hadn’t been there that night, but I, I recognize that this wasn’t… I saw the other children. The ones you helped. A nurse told me she saw you save a newborn.”

You stutter. “Look, I just, that wasn’t…”

You’re honestly grateful when she cuts you off. You weren’t sure where you were going.

Infinity Lass cuts you off. “That bought you a pass. For today. With me, at least.”

You both turn when you hear sirens approaching. She glances at the gun on your hip.

“Do me a favor?” She asks. She points at the gun. “Is that a melting gun?”

You nod dumbly. “Um, yes. Yes, it is. Works fine on metal, but I doubt it’d do more than piss you off, so, um, not to worry.”

“Would you shut up and shoot me with it already?” Infinity Lass is staring down the road at the cops that are quickly approaching.

“What?” You ask. Today is all sorts of messed up.

“Do you want to escape or not?” Infinity Lass snaps. “Just fucking shoot me and get out of here.” She bites her lip and glances back at the cops, who are only a block away. “Before I change my mind.”

You gently slide the note into your belt. You unhook your melting gun and take aim at her stomach. She flies back unusually far when you hit her, which is strange, since when you did this before, she barely flinched. She makes a point of collapsing on the pavement.

You take your cue. With a flash of blue light, you slip away as the cops pull up.

***

The next day, you’re taking some me-time. You’re sitting in a café that you go out of your way to preserve during your fights, as it serves the best pastries in town. The coffee is pretty decent, and the angry little barista is doing her best to get through her undergrad, and you sympathize with her. She wants to go into premed. You repeatedly warn her off it, but she’s stubborn. She’s feisty. She reminds you of you.

You’re halfway through your coffee and stuck on a sudoku as a blonde woman in a nice red sweater and gray dress pants slides into the booth across from you. She’s wearing glasses, but you know those eyes. That stare. Seriously. Glasses are the stupidest disguise ever.

You lower your own glasses and stare back. Yours aren’t… you’re near-sighted, okay? So, yes, you could fix it in a jiffy, but you’ve got a thing about eyes and, it’s not a costume. It’s not a costume.

“When I picked up Amy from school today,” the woman begins. “She told me the nice doctor lady came by during lunchtime and adjusted her arm. She says the twitch is gone, but when she threw a dodge ball, she broke a little boy’s nose.”

You snort. You can’t help it. It’s not a villainous snort, but your incognito right now, so it’s okay. “Tell her to be more careful,” you say through a smirk.

The woman stares at you for a moment before visibly relaxing. She sips her coffee, which is mostly cream and sugar. “Why did you save my daughter?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Beg pardon?”

“You heard me,” she bites back. “Why? It wasn’t for publicity. I’ve checked around. You’ve been quiet about everything that went down. Hell, word on the street is you even killed Vulcan for talking about what you did.”

“Kill is a strong word,” you point out. “He’s a sentient golem. I’m sure he’ll pop up again. Eventually.”

The woman continues. “And that armored car thing yesterday? No super suit, no real weapons… You weren’t expecting company, were you?”

You don’t acknowledge anything she says. You just sip your coffee and count the exits.

“So, why?” She asks again. “You’ve never done anything like that before. You don’t help people. You’ve never helped people. So why now? Why her?”

You hear the underlying question. “Why my daughter?”

You sip your coffee as slowly as you can. You weren’t ready for this. You take a moment to compose your thoughts. You think about the different ways you can answer her.

‘Fuck it,’ you think to yourself.

You take out your phone and scroll through your photos. You slide it across the table to show the woman a photo of a little green-eyed girl in pajamas playing with a toy castle.

“My niece, Olivea.” you say in what you hope is a casual tone. “That’s her at Christmas at my sister’s.”

The woman looks at the photo. “She’s cute.”

You nod and partially hide behind your cup of coffee as you sip it. You wonder if your trembling is noticeable. “She was six when, when her mother’s car was knocked off a bridge by Sunbeam.”

The woman tenses. You figured she would. Most folks on both sides of the line knew about Sunbeam.

“He managed to fish the car out, and my sis lived, but Olive… She’d been under too long. Died at the hospital right in front of her mama.”

The woman across from you sets the phone down on the table. She looks at you over the rim of her glasses. “You killed Sunbeam, didn’t you?”

You nod as you wipe at your eyes. Dammit. You hate talking about this. Hate it, hate it, hate it. “You’re goddamn right I killed him. Transmogrified the air in his lungs into water and watched him drown in the middle of the street.” You take another sip. “It was the most satisfying day of my life.”

“Is that why you do this?” She asks. “The crime? The killing? Is it for revenge?”

You shrug. “I do it because I’m good at it. I do it because it makes me rich.” You put your phone back in your pocket. “And because sometimes when I’m staring down a hero, I see my niece’s body laying on a gurney. I hear my sister sobbing. I remember how she drank herself to death, and how I had to bury her next to her kid. I remember the only two people I ever cared about and how they were taken from me, and then, yeah. Sometimes, it’s for revenge.”

The woman stares at her coffee for a solid thirty seconds. You feel your anxiety rising. Talking about dead loved ones and being cornered in your safe space was not how the afternoon was supposed to go.

“So, you didn’t help Amy because she was my daughter?”

You shake your head. “Carol, I didn’t even know she was in there. I just… I didn’t want… I didn’t want to be another Sunbeam. I didn’t want another…” You’re not sure how to finish that sentence. You’ve been trying hard to forget how you acted that night.

You swallow to fight back the lump in your throat. “I couldn’t take the thought of being responsible for that. I can live with a lot, but not that.”

Carol looks slightly alarmed that you used her name, but you shrug it off. Like you don’t know most of the Collective Good’s identities? Please. You’re a super genius and you got through medical school. You know what’s up.

Carol fidgets with her coffee for a few moments before clearing her throat. “So, um, I don’t, um, I don’t know if you’d… This is harder than I thought it would be. I…”

“Spit it out, Carol. Don’t make me get my melting gun.” You smile as you say it. You’re not serious. You don’t have your melting gun.

You have your phase disruptor, and the safety is off and ready to go, but you don’t think you’ll need it.

Carol finally relaxes and flashes you a smile. “Please. That thing couldn’t even give me a tan.”

“Could have fooled me,” you say as you consider taking a bite of your strawberry Danish. Should you eat in front of her? Would that be rude? You really want that Danish.

“No, I couldn’t. But I fooled those cops, didn’t I?”

You grin. You were right; she was totally faking. “Why are you really here?”

Carol slides a picture across the table. It’s of a young man with curly black hair. “There’s a kid in Amy’s class that was paralyzed last fall in a car crash. His name’s Dawson. Drunk driver broadsided him and his mom. She was fine, but he lost the use of his legs.”

You glance at Carol. “And?”

Carol frowns. “I just, I thought that, um…”

“I’m not a charity,” you say in a low voice. You stand. “Look, don’t get the wrong idea. What happened at the hospital was a one-time thing. Those kids shouldn’t suffer just because one of your people can’t control his temper.”

“What about all the kids you cured?” Carol asks. “The doctors said all the patients had a clean bill of health. No cancer, no tumors, nothing. Amy’s heart is completely fixed up. What did Superior Force have to do with that?”

You don’t answer. You hate it when people point things out to you that you have trouble arguing. Hell, why did you do that? What’s gotten into you?

You walk away from Carol, your coffee, and your Danish. This conversation is over. You’re pretty sure she’s not going to follow you, but you still keep an eye out. You’re right. You see her through the window as you power-walk away. She’s still at the booth.

You look down at your hands. You realize the picture is still in your hands.

“Goddammit,” you mutter.

***

Five days later, you’re scrolling through your newsfeed and see a feel-good story about a local boy named Dawson who miraculously regained the use of his legs after eating his school lunch. You scroll past. Taking the place of the cafeteria worker had been worse than your six-month stint in county when you were 19. You’d prefer not to think about it.

***

The next day, your favorite barista hands you back your cash and gives you a slightly larger than normal drink.

“Already covered,” she says. “A blonde lady with a kid came in and asked me to cover it. Also, can I ask you about my bio-chem midterm?”

“Thanks, and hell no. I blocked that course out of my mind. You’re on your own,” you say with a shudder.

The barista hands you an envelope.

“What this?” you ask.

“That blonde lady dropped it off this morning with the cash. Said if I saw you to give this to you. You sure I can’t ask? I really don’t wanna do a retake.”

Your mind races. You already know who she’s talking about, but the panic side of your mind is in overdrive. She knows this is your place. She can find you here. They can all find you here. It was stupid to come back. Fuck the Danishes. This was a Bad Idea.

Still…

You nod your thanks and go to your booth, ignoring the barista’s pleas for help. You open the envelope and take out a photo of Amy, her bionic arm loosely wrapped around the neck of a little boy you remember serving a special helping of spaghetti to a few days ago. They’re both standing in front of the school and grinning.

You smile. You don’t mean to, and you swear you’ll kill anyone who notices, but you smile.

You casually flip the photo over and freeze. On the back is a message.

Well, a number and a message.

Amy wants you to come to dinner. Call me.

You swallow your coffee in three gulps.

Fucking heroes.

#Dr Technus #original idea #original fiction #original writing #bad guys #villains #villains doing good

[cyberrgirlsblog]

candle ligth part 3

sorry for the LONG ASS wait like fr, idk how many ppl read this but yea . the hole thing ive written is dead ass like 29,000 words or some shit like that, i got carried away.

Part 3

(TW) cussing, mentions how a dead body looks

Not beta read!!!!!!!

1929, 3 weeks before the planned assassination. And 7 weeks since (y/n) and duke last saw eachother

“What the fuck” I said looking down at the front steps of my house, my hand covering my mouth in shock and horror. I look down to find the body of a dead boy in front of my door.

“First day living in small heith and this is the shit that happens I mean like the fuck. I don't know who sent that and who that person was but that's fucked up man.” I said my voice breaking while paseing around my room, my hands shaking. Ash was sitting on my bed listening to me tentatively. Fez would've been here if it wasn't for him going to visit his girlfriend Lexi in the USA for the week. Even though I was talking about this like it was an everyday occurrence it still shook me to my core. It was unnerving.

“You think it's got something with us working more closely with the peaky,” Ash said, looking at me. I called him as soon as it happened along with Tommy but his maid picked up saying he was out but she would let him know when he came back. I looked at Ash and nodded.

“Maybe, I mean it's the most probable option. But we still got a body to deal with. I mean if we call the cops what the hell do we do about this shit." I said while I paced around my room. As the old boards creaked under my feet.

“If we call the fucking cops Fez will kill us Don't be a dumb ass. Look, we take the body and put it in an incinerator. Pay the workers to keep their mouths shut and we'll see what happens.” Ash said before lighting a cigarette. He offered me one but I declined.

“Yea but should we figure out who the dude is? I mean I'm already in enough shit with fez. Dude barely even lets me leave the house without someone he knows coming with me.” I said sitting down next to Ash, letting my head fall back into the wall, and sighing. 

—-----------3rd person pov

Since you went to the carnival fez has been more on edge about trusting you. Thinking back on it you should have asked Ada to be an alibi for you if Fez ever called her about your where abouts. She told him she was at her house and didn't even know about a carnival happening. Fez was pissed when he found out that you had lied to him. But you also hated how there was a double standard when it came to you and Ash. He could go out for hours and not even come home for days and Fez is rarely ever worried but if you leave and don't come home before night time all of a sudden you have Fez and his friends looking for you. You hated how he acted but a small part of you understood why.

—-----

When you were 11 you and Ash went to the bank to withdraw the money your grandma had not yet withdrawn. You and Ash got separated, Ash came home crying telling Fez how someone had grabbed you and taken you away. The man was someone who worked with Mouse and your older brother hadn't paid the fair amount that he was supposed to for some of the product that was bought from Mouse.

Mouse took you and locked you up in a room in some house that looked like it was a personal haven for rats to stay in. It wasn't till a couple of hours later that a bag was put over your head and you were retired back to Fez, Ash, and your grandma.

Ever since then, Fez has been paranoid about you, and it would be a lie to say those events haven't affected you in any way. 

That is one of the reasons you asked Ash to teach you how to fight and started to carry a gun at all times.

—--- 

(y/n) looks over at ash ‘’ you think that it could be-’’

“No, if it is im gonna kill him the second I see him or his friend and anyways we stopped doing business with him for almost a year,” Ash said while looking at the wall in front of him. 

“Ash, this is something he would do. It's fucked up but it's true you and I both know that,’’ she said looking over at Ash. 

His eyebrows creased and he clenched his fits. Memories going back to the day he saw you, his sister snatched up by some guy and he couldn't do anything to stop it from happening. He knew he wouldn't let anything like that happen again to you.

“Ash you know it's not gonna happen again right? I won't let it happen, you won't let it happen, shit fez will make sure it doesn't happen,” she said turning her head to face the door of the room.

“And anyways it could just have something to do with Tommy or some shit. And maybe I'm just being delusional by saying that other shit. But hey I got this if it ever comes down to it” (y/n) said before lifting her coat jacket revealing the holster that held her gun.

Ash looked down at her gun before looking up and slowly nodding his head. They had an understanding of each other that only siblings could have. Suddenly there was a knock on the door downstairs.

Ash and (Y/n)  look at each other before getting up from the bed and going downstairs.

(y/n) heart started beating faster than normal, her hands felt clammy and she could feel a cold sweat. Ash was the same, once they got downstairs they got to the door. Ash reach for his gun while (y/n) opened the door.

The knocking happened again this time harder and louder. (Y/n) and Ash held their breath before (y/n) slowly twisted the doorknob

“Fuck Pol you scared the shit out of us,” she said before letting out a breath of relief and opening the door just enough for her to get in. 

“I got a call about what happened from Tommy's maid,” she said while looking at us her eyes glazing around.

—------------------1st person

“Weres your brother,” she said, I and Ash looked at each other. We were looking into each other's eyes for a quick second before answering.

“He's in the U.S.’’ I said looking at Pol. 

“Anyway come we put the body in the kitchen. It's i really brutal sight.” I said before I and Ash started walking towards the kitchen with Pol right behind us. Once we got there I heard Pol breathe in a quick breath. 

The man's body was anything but pretty half of his face was disfigured and his arm was bent in an unnatural position. His clothes were ragged and slightly burnt. Blood had dried on his head from where his head wound was.

“I-i think I may know who that is,” Pol said before taking a shaky step back. 

“Pol who is it, we need to know please,” I said looking at her while scratching the skin on my arm almost to the point of drawing blood until ash stopped me from going any further.

“He was a boy who worked for the peaky blinders about the same age as Finn. We need to call the family. Do you guys have a phone.’’ she asked while looking back at the boy's body. I pointed at the phone on the table stand and she went to make a call.

—------------------- 3 hrs later, 2nd person

I sat on the couch in the living room staring at the radio as it played static. Pure static is all I could listen to, it helped clear my mind and fuzz it out better than the other channels did. All you could think about was the boy who was just at the kitchen table. His name was Jimmy walsh he was 16 years old and his family had moved from Ireland to the Uk. he was working with the Peakys to help his family earn money. His body wasn't supposed to be at your doorstep, it was supposed to be at the betting shop's doorstep.

I wondered if he had any friends and if he wanted to go to school once his family had made enough money. If he had a lover, if he had any siblings, and how many he had. When thinking about him though you couldn't help but have your mind go to Duke. it had been a while since you had seen him.

Was he alive, was he well? Did he still work at the fairground or did he get a new job? As these questions plagued your mind. My leg started to shake and the tapping from my foot started to get louder and louder. 

A hand was laid on my shoulder causing me to jump my heart stopping for a second before looking at the person who had done that. When I looked I expected to see ash but instead, I saw Polly.

“Jesus Pol you scared me,” you said while covering your face with your hands. 

“I'm sorry (Y/n) wasn't my intention but I just want to check on you. I tried to find your brother but I think he went to the pub.” she while removing my hand from my face and wiping away the tears from my face which I had failed to notice.

I looked at her in the eyes while trying to form words but all that came out were sobs painful sobs of everything that had built up in for the past years. Pol lay my head on her shoulder and hugged me with one hand on my head and the other on my upper back.

“N-no I not” I let out in shaky breaths that were uneven and tears streaming down my face.

“Ssh try to catch your breath.” pol said while rubbing my back.

“He was j-just a kid. A bit older than me a-and ash. He had a family that loved him and he's gone. It's all so fucked up Pol.” I said while burying my face in her shoulder even more.

“It is, it is, he was an innocent boy who was killed. You shouldn't have seen that and he shouldn't have died.” Polly said while running her hand up and down my hair.

We just sat there for what felt like forever. I wanted to ask who she thought had done it. I wanted to ask if I could do anything to help but in the end, I knew it would all be futile. From what Fez told me, peaky business was peaky business and not to ask questions. Don't get our family deeper than we already are. 

After a while, Polly withdrew from the hug. She looked me in the eyes and wiped the remaining tears from my face and gave me a smile I could only imagine a mother could give her daughter.

“How about this? You stay at my house for tonight and your brother can as well. I dont want you or your brother to stay here alone for now,” she said

“Pol it's fine we can handle ourselves. You already have a lot on your plate. I don't want to burden you anymore,” I said with an unsure voice. 

“Nonsense your welcome at my home anytime you like.” she said looking in my eyes before heading toward the front door.

“Well come on we're going to find your brother,” she said again, she opened the door and stepped outside, holding the door for me while I followed.

“He is probably at the garrison getting shit-faced or something,” i said walking next her while looking around slightly chuckling.

“Well we will see, how about this tomorrow you and me and maybe ash will go out for the day.” she says trying to lighten the mood, i look at her a laugh slightly.

“Sure why not but are you sure I mean me and ash were sorting things out at the house since we just got it we don't really have money to by-,” I say but am quickly cut off by pol

“Nonsense I will pay for anything you or your brother need okay,” she says while looking at me kindly. We walk through the street towards the garrison. It is musty and complex to breathe but it is what I have become slightly used to when it comes to Birmingham. The buildings are coated by years of smoke and children play in coal piles. If you look close enough you might mistake the falling ash for snow on Christmas day.

As (Y/n) and Polly continued walking towards the garrison, they passed by familiar faces in the neighborhood. Some nodded in acknowledgment while others gave them suspicious glances.it seemed Living in Small Heath, one could never be too sure who was a friend and who was an enemy. They finally reached the garrison, a place where many of the Shelby family members and their associates gathered. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with smoke and the smell of whiskey.

 Polly's eyes scanned the room, searching for Ash, but he wasn't among the crowd. “Guess he's not here,” (Y/n) said, feeling slightly disappointed. Polly nodded, “Well, let's give him some more time. In the meantime, why don't we sit down and have a drink?” 

she suggested, gesturing towards an empty table in the corner. They sat down, and Polly signaled for a drink. The bartender quickly poured them a couple of glasses of whiskey. (Y/n) took a sip, feeling the warmth of the liquid spread through her body. It was a welcome distraction from the chaos of the day. As they chatted and waited for Tommy, (Y/n) couldn't help but admire Polly's strength. Despite the loss of her own children and all the hardships she'd faced, Polly remained resilient and fiercely protective of those she cared about.

 Soon, Tommy arrived at the garrison, looking troubled. His eyes met (Y/n)'s, and he gave her a small smile, a rare thing to see from him unless you were his childre, family or lover. He then turned to Polly and greeted her with a hug. “I heard about what happened at your place,” Tommy said in a low voice. Polly nodded, “Yes, it's a terrible situation. We're going to need to be cautious and keep an eye on things. (Y/n) and Ash needs protection.” “I'll make sure they have it,” Tommy replied, his expression stern.

“It's fine we can protect ourselves besides I think it was targeted at you guys more than it was at me, Ash or Fez,” i say while looking down slightly to scared to look them in the eyes as i could feel the gazes on me

 “But we need to find out who did this and why. This was clearly about sending a message that and we won't be pushed around.” As they discussed their next steps, (Y/n) felt a mix of fear and determination. She knew she had to protect herself and her brother, but she also wanted justice for Jimmy's death. She couldn't bear the thought of another innocent life being lost because of the dangerous world they were caught up in. 

Later Ash walked into the garrison looking around (y/n) caught her brother's eyes and waved him over to where she, Pol and Tommy were sitting, she ordered some drinks for everyone and continued to listen to Pol and Tommy talk. 

The night wore on, and they continued to strategize, knowing that they had to be cautious in their every move. By the time they left the garrison, it was already late, and the streets of Small Heath were dimly lit. “Come with me,” Polly said to (Y/n) and Ash as they walked towards her house. “You'll stay with me for the night, and we'll figure out a plan together.”

 (Y/n) nodded, feeling grateful for the support she was receiving from Polly and Tommy. Even though they were just business associates; they were treating her and Ash with more kindes than she thought they were owed but she felt happy at the same time, she was happy to have her brother with her as well and in the dangerous world they lived in, family meant everything. As they reached Polly's house, (Y/n) felt a mix of emotions. The events of the day had been overwhelming, and in her mind, the weight of the world seemed to rest on her shoulders. 

By the time they got to pols house (y/n) felt exhausted and was slightly using ash as a walking support. Pol lead them up to the room they would sleep in it was spacious, there were two twin-sized beds with a desk put in between the 2 beds. A window looking outside that let the moonlight shine through and 2 closets on either sides of the beds

1st person 

“Well I hope this is alright with you 2 i'll see you in the morning,” she said before leaving the room and closing the door. Me and ash having taken off our shoes once we originally got in the house walked to the different closets silently and got in them to change our clothes for the night, we brush our teeth and did whatever either of us usually did for our night routine 

A moment passed by with neither of them saying anything until Ash decided to speak.

“You think this is a sign,” Ash said looking up at the ceiling, I looked over at him 

“What do you mean,” I ask confused, Ash turns his head to look at me

“Maybe we should've stayed in the US and never left, maybe things would be better.” Ash said before looking back up at the ceiling.

“I don't think anywhere would be better for us ash, I mean the shit our family is involved with, no matter how far we run I don't think we'll ever be able to run away from what's coming,” I said while looking at Ash. he looked over at me with a gaze I knew all to well a gaze I had given him many times before when I felt helpless or confused. 

“Whatever it is i'll make sure it doesn't hurt you Fez or grandma, ok ash, family above everything,” I said smiling at him.

“Oh also (y/n) when you went to that carnival who were you really with.” Ash said, his eyes filled with curiosity and mischive. 

“Uhh… don't snitch to fez but it was a guy named Duke he worked at the circus but I haven't talked to him or seen him for a while and I have no way of contacting him, he was a cool dude thought i'd like to get to know him more,” I said, I could feel myself start to feel slightly happy at the thought of seeing him again 

“Yeah, I bet you would like to get to know him better hmm,” Ash said jokingly, I shook my head with disgust

“Ew Ash what the fuck I barely know him, don't say shit like that.” I said covering my face in emmbarsesment and rolling over in my bed. I could hear Ash laugh, so I took one of the pillows and threw it at him, I could hear a tiny ow before he shut up. 

“Night ash,” I said to him before closing my eyes. “Night,” he said back to me 

As I closed my eyes my mind drifted back to Duke. I wondered where he was, he hadn't ever left my mind ever since the day I first met him, there seemed to be a lot about him. I wanted to know he was very quiet about his life. Which could only make me wonder about him. I missed him oddly enough, I missed him like I missed Rue or Maddie. They were like family to me, I only hoped they were ok. 

Same night Dukes pov

 Duke let out a sneeze as he sat in the dimly lit circus tent filled with the scent of sawdust and anticipation as the performers prepared for their acts. Among them, Duke Shelby couldn't help but feel a weird peculiar tingling in his chest, and it wasn't because of the show. It had been quite some time since he last saw (y/n), the girl he had met outside the circus grounds months ago.  As he brushed down the sleek black coat of a circus horse, Duke's thoughts kept wandering back to that fateful encounter.

 He remembered how he had stumbled upon (y/n) while she was walking to small heath. She asked if he could help her get there on his horse-drawn carriage to her intended destination, with the promise of payment. he was curios by her demeanor, how she would space out, how she would ramble without thought but stop before she revealed too much, she interested him even in his usually reserved demeanor. 

He had invited her to come to the circus while it was in town, hoping to talk to her more. It was an impulsive decision, driven by a desire to know her better and, perhaps, to impress her.  But things didn't go as he had hoped. (y/n) seemed to enjoy the circus initially, her eyes shining with wonder at the daring acrobatics and mesmerizing performances. Yet, after a little while, she excused herself and left, offering only vague reasons for her sudden departure.

  He went about his duties that night, trying to focus on the work he had to do. Yet, behind the straight seemingly bored face, his mind kept wandering back to (y/n). He wondered where she was, what she was doing, and if she ever thought about him.

  Duke thought it was dumb of him to think of someone he barely knew, someone who probably didn't remember him. Perhaps she already had forgotten about him, just like he should forget about her. Duke felt a sense of longing mixed with apprehension and anger. He couldn't shake off the thought that he wanted to see (y/n) again, to talk to her, to understand more about her, if anything. But for now, he could only hope that fate would bring them together again and that maybe, just maybe, the thoughts he had would not remain unknown forever.

The horse neighed slightly as he brushed its black coat of hair. He had always liked horses so he had no problem taking care of one for the fairground. He hadn't seen Esme in a while and still thought back to her reaction at your name almost like she new who you were or knew of you.

“Duke how's the horse coming along?” yelled Dukes boss, he turned away from the horse to spare a glance at his boss

“She's almost done.” Duke mumbled out before looking back at the horse and continued to brush her. He felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around as his boss placed his payment for the week in his hand,  2 pounds.

“Next fair will be by small heath in a week after this one, you'll get your full payment tomorrow.” said the boss before turning around and leaving the makeshift stable/tent. 

“Mhm, good to know.” Duke said lazily while he continued to brush the horse, by this point he hoped his boss was leaving. The whole reason he chose to take care of the horses was because he got to be away from people. They pissed him off. He likes horses better than most people anyways.

He felt intrigued by the idea of returning to small heath, mainly because it might give him the opportunity to see you again and have more conversations with you. The memory of your address crossed his mind, making him contemplate the possibility of visiting to check if you were around. Despite acknowledging that it might come across as creepy, he couldn't help but entertain the thought.

He finished brushing the horse and put everything away, he started walking to his caravan as he did he heard the sound of cars leaving and people talking. It was loud and annoying, underwhelming almost, soon he heard footsteps behind 

“Did you hear about that boy found dead” said a boy behind duke seemingly talking to his friends, duke started walking slower to hear the conversation going on behind him

“Oh yea it was dead kid found on somebody's doorstep right?’’ said the other boy

“Yea and apparently the peaky's got something to do with it, I heard polly gray went to the house he found there were two people there, a boy and a girl maybe 14 or 15. I think they work for the peakys or maybe they killed the boy.” said the other boy, by the time they started talking more about what had happened they had walked past Duke.

He watched them as they walked past him the last thing he could hear was that apparently the body was found in small heath birmingham. He shrugged and continued to walk to his caravan.

He got in and laid on his bedspread. He stared at the ceiling unmoving, he stared at the cracks in the wood and listened to the wind blow through the tents and nearby trees. He wondered if he would ever have more to life than being a fairground worker.

He wanted to travel the mountains, all of them, here in Britain and maybe the rest of the world. As he closed his eyes his mind went to you and wondered how you were doing. Soon he let the embrace of sleep take him to a quiet darkness as the candle light danced on the walls.

#duke shelby x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #tommy shelby #polly gray #ashtray #euphoria #peaky blinders #john shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #dukeshelby #tommy shelby x you

[henrys-wee-hen]

No-one Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 22

Brain rot.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/123458170

I kept quiet while Teddy drove us into Maine territory, near Grand Lake Estates. I kept hold of the gun, finger on the trigger, safety off. One bullet in the barrel, waiting to end Josephine Maine’s life. And Teddy was going to pull the trigger.

We pulled up outside a house, and Teddy cut the engine. It was growing dark. He reached over and took my hand, squeezing it.

“She’ll come home. She’ll notice the car. I’ll get out, and –“

“You’re going to do it right on her doorstep?” I asked, frowning. “I want her dead, Teddy. I don’t want a fucking turf war.” Teddy sat back and sighed.

“Then we need to get her further away from the house.”

“Right.” He thought for a moment.

“I know a place.”

He was nervous, I could tell. He wasn’t thinking so straight. He turned the engine back on and swung us around. The house was, thankfully, in darkness… whether we’d been seen or not, I didn’t know. But as Teddy drove down the side-streets, he pulled up into a deserted alleyway. He pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a call.” He dialled a number and put it on speaker.

“Lobo office, Josephine speaking. How can I help?”

“Hey, baby,” Teddy said softly. “Josephine… I was hoping to speak to you. Can I speak to you?” A soft, gentle voice.

“Mr Lobo? Teddy?”

“Yeah… it’s me. I’m… are you able to talk a second?”

“Yes, of course,” Josephine said softly. There was a soft scuffling noise, and then a door closing. “Teddy?”

“I’m really sorry for what happened yesterday.”

“Oh… that… yeah…” I started to feel bad for the girl. “Actually, Teddy… I enjoyed it… I’ve never been taken so roughly like that… I wanted more of it, when I’d gotten over the shock.” She giggled. “I… I wouldn’t mind doing it again, actually. This time, without your mom watching… I could show you what I can really do…” Her tone, husky and sultry.

I stopped fucking feeling bad.

Teddy took my hand and kissed my knuckles, as though he could sense my tension.

“For real?”

“Yes… Teddy, I’ve had a thing for you for years. And I really mean it… I would be amazing for you, Teddy. My mother and father spent thousands on my education… I’ve been trained for society. For you. (Y/N) isn’t good enough for you. Never will be. Just a little ex-cop trying to be big league…”

“Maybe we should get to know each other a little more, then…”

“You really mean it?!”

“Sure. Can you get out of the office soon, or no?”

“I’ve got five minutes left…”

“Come straight to me. I’m parked up near the Fleur de Lis park, over on West End.” Teddy described where we were, and Josephine’s smile was evident.

“I’ll be there, handsome.”

“Can’t fucking wait,” Teddy purred. “I’m gonna fucking take you out… it’s gonna be real special. Oh… and sweetheart? Don’t tell my fucking mom I’m taking you out tonight. Or your family. I wanna fucking enjoy you a bit before the rabble starts…” Another giggle from Josephine. I felt sick. I felt so, so sick. But Teddy’s hand in mine reminded me why I needed him to do this. Why he needed to do this…

“Anything for you, Teddy…”

“That’s my girl.” Teddy squeezed my hand, bringing my ring to his lips as he looked at me in the eyes. “See you soon?”

“I can’t wait…”

Teddy cut the call, and kissed me on the cheek.

“I wonder how many of the Five Families know about me, then,” I said softly. Teddy kept hold of my hand. “And how many of them think you’re a good way to get intel?”

“Oh, all of ‘em think I’m a good way into the fucking family,” Teddy replied, sighing. He linked his fingers with mine, thumbing my ring absent-mindedly. “The Maines are the only ones who bothered to fucking act on it.” He looked across at me. “Do you still want me to do this?”

I thought for a moment. The rational, good side of me said no. But the other side, the awful jealous side, said yes.

“Do you want to do this?” I asked, looking into those beautiful brown eyes.

“I’d crawl on my hands and knees through broken glass if you wanted me to, baby,” Teddy said softly. “Putting a bullet in her skull for you is the least I can fucking do.”

“Will it start a turf war, do you think?”

“It’ll piss a lot of people off, sure,” Teddy smiled. “But my personal bullets aren’t monogrammed. So no-one will know it was me. Might fuck with my mom and let some intel slip that it was the Kennedys. Or the Delarentas…” he smirked. “Light some fucking fires under some asses… and prove to you that you are the only person for me…” He kissed my ring again. “And be worthy of you again.”

“You are worthy of me, Teddy.” But I need that bitch gone… the thought circled my head like a vicious fucking vulture. I bit my lip.

“Can I kiss you?” Teddy asked softly. I nodded, and he pulled me close, kissing me tenderly. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). Truly.”

“I know you are,” I murmured, leaning against him.

We sat for a while, listening to some music as the sun set fully, and the streets turned dark. I could barely contain myself, my leg bouncing as a small car pulled up and parked up. Teddy’s phone lit up. A call. Josephine.

“Hey, Teddy-bear… I’m here. Where are you parked?” I cringed at the use of my own pet name for Teddy.

“I’ll meet you in the park,” Teddy said softly. “Got a little surprise for you.”

“Alright.” Josephine giggled. He cut the call.

“It’s go time, baby.” He kissed me fully. “This is for you. Entirely for you. And also a little bit for me, because I don’t need that fucking hanger-on…” I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. This was heavy. Teddy climbed from the car, and I followed him, closing my door quietly. Gun tucked into his waistband, we made our way over to the Fleur de Lis park. Dressed entirely in black, I was mostly hidden in the shadows. But Teddy, in his gorgeous red suit, stood out a bit more. I hung back, skulking around behind a tree. The park was deserted, as most tended to be in the night time in New Orleans. The city wasn’t known for its safe parks…

The familiar figure of Josephine approached. Teddy leaned against the tree I was stood behind. Josephine skipped over, almost immediately throwing herself at Teddy, kissing him fully. He didn’t retaliate. He just stood there and let it happen.

“Does anyone know we’re meeting tonight?”

“No. I didn’t tell a soul.” She ran her hands along the lapels I ran my hands down. Then, she kissed him again. “Kiss me, Teddy! Please – I’m – I need you so badly!”

“See, Josephine, that’s the fucking problem.” Teddy held her close to him. “You need me… but I don’t need you.” His arm was strong around her. He gazed down at her, smiling. “And you’ve made the wrong fucking call, thinking you’re better than (Y/N). I can’t have that, see… I can’t have people thinking (Y/N) is worthless or useless…” He reached behind him for the gun. “And I can’t allow someone like you to undermine any part of my relationship, or my fucking life choices.” He clicked the safety off the gun, and Josephine paled. Her face fell. I watched, holding my breath.

But then, Teddy pushed Josephine to her knees at the base of the tree trunk, and pulled me out of my hiding place, the gun trained on Josephine’s forehead.

“Teddy, what –“

“C’mere, baby,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around my waist. He kissed me fully, cocking the gun. He gazed into my eyes. “There’s only ever gonna be you, you know that, right?”

“Teddy… p-please… don’t kill me – I’m sorry –“ Josephine whispered. “Please, I –“

“Hush, sweetheart. If I let you live, you’re a problem for me. And I can’t have my mom throwing you at me every five seconds. And I can’t take the risk you’ll have your brothers come for (Y/N), either.” He smirked. “But understand that it will always be (Y/N) for me. Always.” With a final kiss for me, Teddy squeezed the trigger. I yelped, curling into him as Josephine’s body slumped to the side.

Dead.

Teddy

He didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t want to end another life, especially when this one wasn’t really necessary. But (Y/N) needed it. And he needed to prove his love. And in this instance, a huge vase of flowers and fancy shit only a lot of money could buy wouldn’t be enough. (Y/N) needed to trust him again – needed to know he could be trusted. And the only way he could show and prove that everything he said was true was to put a bullet squarely in the head of the chick who’d gone down on him so boringly.

(Y/N) curled into him when he fired the bullet. The gunshot ricocheted around the park, and he knew there was only a small amount of time before the police would show up. An arm still around (Y/N), he tucked the handgun into his suit pocket, and pulled out his phone, shining his torch on the tree.

“I gotta let you go, baby. I need to get the bullet.” (Y/N) let him go, trembling. Teddy pulled out a pocket knife and started digging around in the tree, extracting the bullet. He threw it into the same pocket as the gun, then pulled (Y/N) close again. “You okay?”

“Yeah…”

“We gotta fucking get out of here, darling. Someone might call the fucking cops.”

“I know… We’re just leaving her here?”

“DNA. We can’t risk it.”

“Yeah, I know…” (Y/N), hand pressed to mouth, held back sobs. Teddy felt sombre. But the deed had been done. No more Josephine. No more threat to (Y/N)’s trust, or sanity, or anything else. He’d proven himself. He’d promised, and delivered. He pulled (Y/N) along, back to the Dodge. Once inside, (Y/N) crumbled.

“Hey,” Teddy breathed. He turned on the engine. They didn’t have time to loiter. He pulled away smoothly, barely revving the engine until they were far enough away that they wouldn’t be linked to the murder of Josephine fucking Maine. “Let it out, baby. Let it all out…”

You

I couldn’t help it. The sobbing. The weight of what I’d just fucking made him do. The sheer size of the thing. But Teddy’s soothing worked, and by the time we were home, I felt like I could at least walk without my legs buckling. Teddy held me the entire way up to the apartment, and when he unlocked the door (having turned off that two-factor authentication he’d had installed when I was attacked), I fell inside, and he held me closely, cupping the back of my head to his chest.

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

“Ugh. I need to wash my tan.” I stepped back and wiped my eyes. It had been the required six hours, more than, that I needed to wait. Teddy burst out laughing.

“I just killed for you, and you’re worried about your fucking tan…”

“I know. It’s stupid.” I looked at him. “Teddy… I’m honestly a little scared.”

“I know you are,” Teddy murmured. “But it’ll be alright. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“Josephine… going back out into society…” I sighed. “It’s a lot, Teddy.”

“And you’ll have me beside you every single fucking second.” He kissed me softly. “I promise.”

“I believe you.” I kissed him. “And you understand that what’s happened tonight will hit me at the worst possible time…” I ran my hands down his lapels…

And it fucking hit me.

Teddy didn’t quite know what to do, at first. As I sank to my knees, I think he thought he was about to have a real good time. But when I leaned against his legs and cried, he picked me up, carried me to the bathroom, and ran the shower. He got in with me, careful not to scrub any part of my tan that still needed to look natural, keeping my hair dry, too. He was gentle, caring, loving.

My Teddy.

Eventually, he curled up with me in bed, both of us reeling a little bit from the night before. Little did either of us know, it really wouldn’t be as bad as either of us were thinking.

#teddy lobo #teddy lobo x reader #tedward lobo #renfield #dracula

[digital-corruption]

This chapter ended up being looooong. (Sorrynotsorry.) I promise a shorter wait to the next chapter!

Unrecognisable Part 38

Hitting the streets in our new clothes was more entertaining than I could ever imagine. Sure, people looked, but most of the time it was just sideway glances of disapproval or of mild curiosity but didn’t want to be caught staring. And if they did look, they were looking at the clothes, accessories and makeup, not paying any attention to the faces that went with them. There wasn’t a single reaction of recognition amongst the faces we passed. Jake found the effect so surprising, that he had us walk to the subway station after we ate some lunch. There was still a cop watching the entrance, but even as Jake walked by giving him the stink eye, the cop didn’t even react. As we travelled on the train, this time without jumping off, I could sense Jake’s satisfaction at having fooled the police in how he stood more confidently.

We transferred at Central station and despite our new clothes, Jake still had us avoiding the cameras just to be safe. We swapped lines to head towards the industrial area of Colville, which as it was the weekend, was nearly empty. So much so, we moved to the end of the train so we could have our own car.

“Well, I think I call this a success,” I smirked.

“But we should try to not get too cocky,” Jake warned as he sat down, sprawled across an entire row of seats.

“Says the one who was practically daring the cop to try something back there!” I laughed and sat down across from him.

He shrugged, “My chances at getting under their skin are limited.”

"What was that about not getting too cocky?" I shook my head.

"I knew what I was doing," he insisted. "Why are you over there?"

"Because it's a big spacious car and it feels weird to crowd you?" I gestured to his man spread.

"Exactly, we have the car to ourselves, you should be over here," he smirked.

"Oh, does Jake need some cuddles?" I teased.

He leaned forwards and reached to grab my hand, pulling me out of my seat and onto his lap, straddling him. He put his hands on my lower back to help support me whenever the train decelerated.

"Hi," he grinned.

I bit my lip, "You’re a naughty puppy."

"We're not even kissing," he laughed. "Although I am open to anything, and I mean anything."

"It’s the middle of the day and there are kids on this train," I rolled my eyes.

"So if we come back at night you would consider it?" He teased.

"Ha, I would have to be absolutely drunk to even think about it!" I exclaimed. "Do you have a public sex kink?"

"I don't know, maybe I do. Nothing really says 'fuck you' to the system and my pursuers than having sex freely in the open. Besides those leather handles are giving me ideas," he gestured to them above us with his head.

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? My hands tied to the pole while I am whimpering and completely at your mercy," I teased him seductively.

He sucked his teeth,"Are you sure you don't want to try it?"

I could feel his erection building in his pants, "I'm sure."

"Pity," he smirked.

"Shouldn't we be more productive?" I raised my eyebrow.

"There's only so much I can research on the internet before we arrive. We will be able to find out more just by exploring," he explained.

The train slowed down and stopped at a station. A young man wearing headphones stepped onto the train. He took one look at us and moved to the next car.

"See? They already think we're doing it, so why not give into temptation?" He cooed.

"You’re so bad," I shook my head.

"And you like it," he smiled smugly.

“I plead the fifth, your honour,” I acted defensively.

Jake smirked, “You can’t hide from me. I see everything.”

“And the scary thing is you still want me,” I laughed.

“Maybe it just makes me want you more,” he said seriously. “Where you see flaws, I see uniqueness.”

“You can stop trying to lay on the charm, I’m already yours,” I joked.

“That doesn’t mean I need to stop,” he brushed the strands of my wig back over my shoulder.

“If you’re trying to convince me to have sex with you right now, it’s not working,” I teased.

“That’s a shame. Well, we're getting off at the next stop anyway,” he announced.

As if on cue, the train exited the underground onto a bridge crossing the river. Looking out the window I could see the vast industrial district topped with various old smoke stacks. Even at a distance I could tell there were sprawling alleyways full of shady corners to hide in. It looked quiet and empty, but I wasn’t sure how much of it was actually abandoned given it was the weekend. The train reached the other side and sped past walls of graffiti to the next stop. Jake tapped my shoulder to encourage me to stand up and move towards the doors. Gripping tight on our bag, we alone disembarked onto an empty platform. The doors snapped shut behind us and the train sped off leaving us with dead silence.

Jake pulled out his phone and brought up the map of the area with the location of the rave marked on it, quite a distance from where we were. “We’ll want to keep our distance from the rave. We have to assume it will be raided by police at some point. Even if the police don’t check our location, we’re at risk of fleeing revellers finding us by chance. So I suggest we look in these regions here.”

“Sure,” I nodded.

“What is it?” he raised his eyebrow.

“Oh, I love it when you talk all serious like,” I giggled.

“You wanted me to involve you more,” he frowned as we went down the stairs to the street level.

“I do!” I insisted.

“Then take it seriously,” he shook his head.

“Yes sir!” I paused at the bottom of the stairs to salute, then continued to walk down the street with Jake.

Jake sighed, realising there was no middle ground with me, “Ok what we’re on the look for is a location with power and running water, preferably with a hot water heater. We should be able to determine the status of the two on the exterior of any building by checking the meters. Only on the instance of those two conditions being met do we bother entering. Next we take note of extra amenities, such as a kitchen or a shower…”

“Or a bedroom?” I smirked.

“That is very unlikely, but sofas are a bonus,” he clarified. “Although, who knows, maybe we’ll find an old mattress factory.”

“Do you want to split up and cover more ground?” I suggested.

Jake was quiet for a moment, then tapped his map, “We probably should, otherwise it’ll take us well into the night to cover this area. I’ve turned on the tracking on your phone so I’ll know where you are.”

I pulled out my phone and opened my map app, “Ok, so turn on yours.”

“What? No,” he looked at me like I was crazy.

“So it’s ok if I have tracking, but not ok for you?” I narrowed my eyes.

He stammered for a bit until he realised I had a point, “Fine, hand me your phone.”

I handed my phone over to him and with the two phones in his hands he shared his location with mine.

“Promise me if you are compromised that you will break your phone,” he sighed as he handed my phone back to me.

“Huh? Why would I do that? Don’t you want to know where I am?” I questioned.

“I have other ways of finding out. However, if our pursuers know my location, we’re screwed,” he pointed out. “But if the threat is less severe, just hold down the home button on your phone. It’ll send me an emergency notification.”

“Oh, a bat signal!” my eyes widened.

Jake laughed, “Not quite. But I will come running.”

“Such power!” I beamed.

“Act responsibly,” he rolled his eyes. “Ok, you take these blocks. I’ll take the southside.”

“Hmm, one question, how do I break in?” I asked.

“You don’t,” he frowned. “Just note down which abandoned buildings have connected power and water. You don’t know what sort of security they may have on the inside. Some won’t have any, but others will be monitored.”

“And if I find an old mattress factory, we can call it a day?” I shrugged.

“Check for power and water first, but yes, you can message me if you find a mattress factory,” he smiled.

“Ok, let’s roll out!” I turned and marched off to the first building on the block.

“Good luck,” Jake called out behind me.

I glanced back to wish him the same, but he had already disappeared. It was scary how quickly he could do that. Meanwhile I was walking around in broad daylight with a bright pink wig on. Not very inconspicuous, MC, I thought to myself. But the area was empty so I shrugged it off and kept going. The first building was very much occupied so I continued to the next. Soon I realised that most buildings were actually occupied, just shuttered for the weekend, which meant this mission was actually much harder than I originally thought. After five buildings, I finally came across one with a For Lease sign, but when I checked the meters on the side of the building, I saw they were unmoving and labelled with a tag, which I assumed meant they were disconnected.

Feeling defeated, I leant against the brick wall and took a moment to think about the situation. The buildings on the main road near the train station would be considered premium properties. If I wanted a wider selection of abandoned buildings, I had to go further into the neighbourhood and look for the less desirable areas. I walked down to the corner and down the side street, away from the river. The area, even a couple of streets back, was quite dense with buildings, but soon I began to notice more boarded up windows and For Lease signs. At least I had more abandoned properties at hand.

Heading down one of the single lane roads, I checked building after building for power and water. Each and every one had been disconnected. Still I marched on, determined to be the one to find us an ideal location. My competitive nature fuelled me to persist with the search even though I was striking out on every occasion. Part of me wondered if Jake had found any yet, but my pride got in the way of checking with him. I wasn’t going to contact him until I had at least something.

Then, finally, at a small, unassuming building, squished between two larger imposing buildings, I found a property that had both connected power and water. I don’t think I had ever been so happy before. I took out my phone to mark the location on my map and realised I had been searching for two hours already. The location was so deep in the district that I wasn’t even sure I could find my way out, even with GPS. I was so excited though that I had to message Jake.

MC: Eureka! Power and water! Mattresses unconfirmed.

Jake: Haha, good, I was beginning to get worried.

MC: Why? Haven’t you found any?

Jake: I did, I found three. But I haven’t heard from you for a while.

Jake: Your marker kept moving so I had to assume you were ok.

MC: You could have checked in.

Jake: I could have.

Jake: But I trusted you were ok.

MC: Wait you found three? I have been searching all this time and you have three!?

Jake: Hmm, well one was an old fish tinning factory. The smell was wretched. Another was completely barren with no extra facilities. And the third was so filthy the walls were crawling.

MC: So my one might be the one.

Jake: What do you think? Should I head to you now or should I keep looking?

I lowered my phone and walked around the building, looking for a window a peek in. There wasn’t a lot to go on, but for some reason I had a good feeling about the building.

MC: Yes, my feet are hurting. I don’t think I can take anymore.

Jake: Hmm, ok. It will take me a while to reach you. Try to find somewhere quiet to sit down and take a break.

MC: Aye aye captain!

I moved to the alley to find somewhere to sit when I noticed that the side door was slightly ajar. I tried my hardest to ignore it, but my curiosity got the best of me. I walked up and carefully put my hand on the door handle. Ever so slowly I opened it, hoping no alarms would go off. Thankfully there were none. I peaked inside and looked around. I couldn’t see any sensors or cameras. Tiptoing in, I snuck into the dark building, pausing for a brief moment to turn on the light on my phone. I had entered via some supply room, judging by the empty shelves. Heading further in, I walked into a wide, open space. I saw streaks and did a double take. Looking back, I realised there was paint splatters all over the floor, not blood as I had feared. Pointing the phone higher to the opposite wall I saw it was covered in various artworks. I walked over to have a closer look at the designs. It took me a while to realise these designs were original creations. Searching around the room more I saw several devices with stations set up in a circle. I felt something soft underneath my foot, which made me jump. Pointing the light downwards, I realised it wasn’t a dead animal, but scrunched up clothing. Putting together everything I had seen, I realised the last occupiers were screenprinters. Far better than a fish tinning factory, I laughed to myself.

Walking to the back of the building, I saw several discarded boxes of t-shirts. At least we had a free supply of clothes, I shrugged. At the back was a closed door. I peaked in and saw an old break room with a small fridge, sink and hot plate. Even some plates and cutlery were left behind. Following the back wall a bit further I came across a set of mens and womens toilets with a shower room between. Now the place was too good to be true. At the end of the back wall was a metal staircase leading up to the loft office above. Carefully I ventured up the stair, wincing at every creak, as if it would give up my position, but there was no one to hear me.

At the point of the stairs was several empty desks with what looked to be the owner’s office at the back. I opened the door and was happily greeted with the sight of a leather couch with cushions. I had to wonder what kind of situation the business was in to have left that much furnishing behind. Closing the door, I turned around and saw a figure standing behind me.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jake!” I gasped. “Don’t do that!”

“I could’ve sworn I told you not to enter any buildings,” he frowned.

“I was careful!” I insisted.

“So careful you didn’t hear me,” he raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, lightfoot. Make some more noise next time!” I sighed.

“Well?” he tilted his head inquisitively.

“Well we have a building with a kitchen, shower and a leather couch,” I boasted. “It doesn’t smell of rotten fish and comes with free t-shirts!”

“Good job, MC,” Jake smiled.

Jake took his backpack to the middle of the floor and plopped it down on a large desk. From there he could see the front of the building in full view. I sat down on a nearby desk, dropping our bag to the floor, and watched him set up his laptop.

“We have six hours until the rave starts. I would like to check on things before we leave. Can I trust you to order us some food?” he questioned.

“Will they deliver here?” I asked.

“Hmm, some businesses are working overtime. It isn’t that unusual,” he assured me.

I pulled out my phone and looked up a pizza delivery service that would cover our area while Jake turned power on to the building. Using my browser’s translation add-on, I was able to navigate it and order a couple of pizzas and drinks for us. Jake gave me a Paypal account to use. I didn’t bother questioning whose it was. While I waited for the pizza, I headed downstairs and checked out the lobby after a brief pitstop to the bathroom.

The lobby was fairly simple, but also had a couple of leather couches in a makeshift meeting area for clients. I dusted off one of the couches then laid down and kicked my feet up. After hours of walking that day, it felt like a godsend. I spent the rest of the time browsing idly on my phone until the pizza guy knocked on the front door. It took me a moment to work out how to unlock the front, but I got it. Making sure I locked up tight, I went back upstairs to Jake with the pizzas and drinks. I set up the food on one of the empty desks and dug in. After a few minutes, Jake joined me.

"It’s not so bad here," I commented. "Aside from the lack of beds, I definitely see us staying a while."

"I will need to do some research later and find out why so much has been left behind, but we should be able to stay at least until Monday," he warned. "How exactly did you say you got in?"

"The side door was ajar," I shrugged. "Someone didn't close it fully."

"Hmm, we'll have to assume the building isn't fully abandoned then," he said as he picked up another slice of pizza.

"What makes you say that? I questioned.

"This is a prime location for squatting. If we are the first to discover it, the door must have left ajar recently," he explained.

"Yeah, but this area is a maze. It's not like I was casually walking by and saw it," I countered.

"True, but it is better to err on the side of caution," he spoke with his mouth full.

"So you want to take our gear with us tonight?" I glanced over at his laptop set up.

"No, I will find a place to store it where it won't be found easily, but still accessible for us," he assured me. "Unless you had second thoughts about going. It has been a long day.”

"No, I still do," I smiled. "I might take a little snooze and freshen up."

"Don’t worry about getting too fresh. The other revellers won't be," he joked.

"What about you?" I asked.

"Me? I want to finish setting up roots in the area," he replied. When he saw my confused expression, he decided to elaborate, "I will break into surrounding networks so I can set up a wide surveillance net across the area. That way I can easily track the movements of anyone who enters the net. I have a program that detects an unknown entity on a camera, determines their phone signal and tracks their movements with it, assuming they are carrying a phone, but who isn't these days? It's a poor man's facial recognition software. Within a week, I will know who belongs in the area and their usual behavioural patterns. Then I can filter them out to create an early warning system.”

“Is that how you knew I was coming?” I questioned.

“Yes, although I couldn’t believe it. I was so stunned watching you approach the building, I nearly didn’t have enough time to deactivate the traps,” he explained.

“Are you going to set up traps here?” I looked around the building. It was much smaller than the one I found Jake in.

“Probably not. That building you found me in, I could live on the upper floors without descending for entire weeks at a time. Here, there’s not a lot of distance. Also, that building had been deserted for years. This one was more recently occupied and more likely to have the owner or agent come by,” he pointed out.

“It sounds like you’re saying this isn’t a good pick,” I frowned.

“That building you found me in was a real lucky find. A completely desolute building with a shower is extremely hard to come by,” he emphasised. “I was pissed that I had to give it up.”

“Is that why you were so cranky?” I teased.

“I was cranky because someone was blindly and foolishly walking onto a battlefield,” he glared. “Even after all these years, you never cease to keep me on my toes.”

Grinning, I shrugged, “Well I do like to keep things lively. Would you have me any other way?”

Jake laughed, “No, no I would not.”

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake #unrecognisable fanfic

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 90, Replies Part 1

“Now, what was happening on Vigilantes- Oh yeah, blatant fuckery in the wordlbuilding department, the usual, then Number 5 showed up to the party.”- Number Hood just wanted to get in on the fighting action with the rest of the battle junkies.

2) “Ah, upstairs, in the picnic the police squad set up. Glad to see they are having fun frolicking around while everybody dies downstairs.”- There is some merit to be made that the Police become a bit too complacent in the heyday of All Might’s era, what with him running about all over the place doing their jobs tenfold before they could lift a finger. Still, some little more pro-active measures on their behalf would have been appreciated.  

3) “Yeah guys, what you think we are? law enforcers? Fuck that, let the pro hero handle it, he was the one that asked for in the first place. God knows why so many cops were needed for that.”-  If nothing else, I’d love to see a cop drama set in MHA’s world, with a young rookie wanting to be a good outstanding and efficient officer in the line of duty, dealing with a cynical mentor and the actions of heroes always bursting in and taking the credit, as he tried to work his way through the complicated system 4) “IS THAT WEED? NOW ITS TIME FOR THE POLICE TO ACT

LEAVE NO SURVIVORS, ANYBODY WITH RED EYES NEED TO BE EXTERMINATED WITH MAXIMUM FORCE POSSIBLE

you know, like in `murica”- AFO getting people hooked on drugs and illegal narcotics young, whether they want to or not. Truly, the most villainous evil that ever existed.

5) “Alright now, Furuhashi, you got the three best characters to be stuck working together, you absolutely must make sure to put them to good use, you got that?”- How about matching them up against the early-model version of one of the most interesting Nomus we’ve yet seen? That’d be a fight I’d pay to watch.

6) “Huh, I don’t know, this just looks like a normal punk rave to me, nothing out of the ordinary here alright”- 7) “And once again, we are faced with a place that is not up the fire safety regulations, smh… Although, unlike the sky egg, this one is deliberate, still I want to see AfO explaining that to the safety inspector.”- He probably happily outlined to him all the health and safety violations he’d deliberately included in the building because he wanted to make it as unsafe as possible for others to hurt themselves on for his idle amusement, before he stole his Quirk and killed him/repurposed the body for “materials”.

8) “I want to know where they kept those masks, because they are a bit too big to keep hidden under their clothes without gathering some unwanted attention.”- They pulled them straight from the plot hole dimension….assuming AFO didn’t have said gas masks stored in boxes over to the side somewhere. They are standing in front of a shelving rack, after all. 9) “Oh perish that thought Knuckles! Goodness gracious, what sort of lowly scallywag would ever dare to commit such acts?”- AFO is the type of man to commit all action of villainy, from dastardly, all the way down to just plain dick. 10) “Good thing you don’t expend a lot of oxygen while using your quirk and thus need to be constantly breathing in, even whilst inside a cloud of drug-laced gas, right Knuckles?”- Knuckles probably trained himself like a deep-sea diver, finding ways to ensure maximum lung capacity if he was ever in an environment where breathable oxygen was getting into short supply, to maximise his speed bursts 11) “GUNKLEDUSTER STRIKES AGAIN

WHY THE FUCK WOULD THE STAFF HAVE A FAKE GUN INSTEAD OF A REAL ONE? OR EVEN SOME TRANQUILIZER WEAPONS? YOU GUYS THINK A PROP WILL DEFUSE TROUBLE? THOSE GUYS WILL EAT YOU ALIVE, EVEN MORE WHEN THEY SEE THE GUN IS FAKE”- I can see AFO issuing unloaded firearms to his security staff just for the Lulz when they try to bring them to bear and find out they’re empty in a crisis situation.

12) “again, you guys think that those batons would stop a stampede of desperate brutes? you twinks there would be snapped in half, and not even the furry guy there would be able to stand there.

Just bring the heavy weaponry, nobody is gonna complain, the police is too busy making flower crowns for each other.”- Again, AFO wouldn’t want any good Quirks getting killed off by a heavy shot before he was ready to stealthily steal them in the chaos. These guys are here to look intimidating and act as a big distraction whilst he moves in the shadows doing what he wants, so if the sight of them brings the rioters up short just for a second, that’s long enough for him.

13) “Oh, really heroic of you Knuckles… Can you imagine if something had happened to them? You could kiss your hero license bye-bye, well, that is, four years before it actually happened I mean.”-  Knuckles already knows them well enough to know that A), they’re simple-minded and like a simple plan, B) they got no issues risking themselves, and C) they wanna fight. So let them fight.

14) “Wait, you are gonna give the signal? Wouldn’t be better for them to give a signal if they are in trouble? Knuckles I’m starting to think they are not just bait, but meat for the grinder.”- That’s assuming either of them can see danger and not go “awesome! I’mma fight that!”

15) “You guys need to ask? You know that kicking ass is not optional here. Go nuts, show those fuckers who’s the alpha team.”- Well, it is technically optional…as in, Rappa and Mirko are split over whether kicking or punching ass is better to proceed with.

16) “Bullshit Knuckles, and you know it. And you Rappa, keep quiet, Mirko got the gist of it, she just needs to promise that she won’t kill anyone and then kick people so hard their vertebrae pop out through their mouth like they are pez dispensers”- Arguably the main difference between them. Mirko knows when to play along before she can cut loose once she’s gained permission, whereas Rappa’s just too upfront and is entirely honest about his desire to fight to the death. Weird seeing the hero being the deceitful one, honestly.

17) “There go my two kids, they are always so happy when they are curb-stomping people into a mush…”- The joys of simple violence. Poetry in motion, to the chorus of breaking bones.

18) “Oh don’t worry Knuckles, they have no need for help. You should worry about who’s going to pay the medical bills of the people they are beating up tho, you said yourself they are ~civilians dosed without consent~”- I presume Knuckles made the police foot the bill, since they’ve contributed pretty much nothing else to this raid.

19) “THAT’S RIGHT GUNKLE! SHOT AT AfO THROUGH THE PORTAL, I THINK NOBODY ACTUALLY BOTHERED TO CHECK IF A HEADSHOT WOULDN’T SOLVE ALL THOSE PROBLEMS, WE DON’T KNOW IF HE ALREADY HAD THE ANTI-HEAD-CRUSHING MEASURE READY BY THEN”- Him still possessing his facial features is a sign that he still doesn’t have Hyper Regeneration specifically but from what we see of Hood, he’s already working on a pseudo-means of being able to heal injuries, presumably with the final product intended for his own use, but this research didn’t proceed far enough until All Might finally caught up to him and crushed his dreams along with his face. From what I can tell, it doesn’t seem to be that Hood is specifically ‘healing’ himself, but rather ‘fixing’ himself, using his unique construction as a modded human, rather than a healing Quirk outright, hence why AFO can’t exactly steal it if it comes down to the way his body’s been rebuilt rather than a power he’s using.  

20) “oh wow, a prop gun you said? Thank fuck they didn’t bothered to get a real one then, it would probably have the wield of a fucking nuclear weapon.”- I fully believe that Knuckles is the kind of guy to keep a few bullets on him in reserve in case he ever needs to shoot somebody, even if he doesn’t always bring an accompanying gun.

21) “HEEEY- THERE WE HAVE IT, OUR FIRST LOOK AT PRE-POTATO AfO, AND HE IMMEDIATELY GOES D:  HILARIOUS “- Honestly, it’s just nice to see something other than ‘smug satisfaction’ on his mug for once, even if it is only a minor victory at best.

@thelreads

#my hero academia #bnha #chapter replies #thelreads #bnha vigilantes #vigilantes 90