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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

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Vendetta Chris Redfield x Civilian reader? Your writing is amazing! 🥹

FIRST! Before I post this I wanted to thank all of you for the older Leon post love because wow!! I really wasn’t expecting that AT ALL thank you so much. I got a little carried away on this one! I enjoyed writing it and it gave me and excuse to rewatch vendetta. There is no smut… BUT I can do a part two maybeee. PLEASE LEAVE STUFF IN MY INBOX, after this i have nothing </3

DISCLAIMER!! this is 18+ ONLY, please do not interact with my blog if you are underaged or don’t have age indicator in your bio!! thank you!!

gender neutral reader x Vendetta Chris Redfield.

Warnings: Mentions of explosions, blood, gore, close to death experience. Chris is over protective as fuck. Leon is dumb but so cute. BESTIE REBECCA TROPE.

Word count: 2,830

There was already chaos in the city, the only reason you knew is because your boss would rather die than send anybody home. But when he ran into the office, screaming that everyone needs to leave immediately, you knew there was something wrong. You tried to keep yourself calm, your heart beating so loud in your ears that you felt like you were going to puke. You walked out the double doors of the building, gripping at your bag . A loud gasp left your lips at the sound of a motorcycle roaring down the street, driving past you at least going eighty-six. This is a public area, starting right over by the district buildings. Right as you went to cross the street a loud explosion pushed you off your feet, throwing you to the ground. Your hand immediately flew to your head as you sat up, coughing from the wind literally being knocked out of you. You cleared your throat, blinking as a man squatted down to your height, offering his hand. He was speaking but the words were muffled, due to the fact that your body was still adjusting to the explosion that happened not even 10 feet away from you. With a pop your hearing cleared, along with your vision as you looked at the man.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was sweet, sultry and so so smooth. Like whiskey almost. You nodded your head as you pulled yourself up, ignoring his hand.

“Are you a cop?”

This was definitely a dumb question, you can see the snarky expression painted in his face. Your eyes trailed down his body, oh. He was in the military or something? Then something is really going down in the city.

“Because if you’re a cop, i have a gun in my bag i have a permit but-“

He put his hands up trying to ease you, bending down and handing you your bag.

“I’m no cop, but you should get out of the city. It’s getting bad.”

Your conversation was cut off by the loud sound of dogs snarling, Chris screaming loudly to who you assumed was his partner. All while you stood behind him, staring around the city as more loud bangs could be heard in the distance. Leon had yelled to Chris about getting through and bombing the rest of the trucks. Chris gritted his teeth watching as Leon sped off, the mutant dogs chasing after him. The anxiety kicked you in the jaw, your breathing labored a bit as Chris grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to the car.

“Just get in the back and stay down!”

Chris yelled as you got into the backseat, your hands shaking as you pressed your body against the cool leather seating. Chris was in the car not long after. I’m gonna die because I saw too much, or SOMETHING.(so you thought) There was no way you could make it out of this even with Chris by your side.

The drive was surprisingly calm after Chris bombed all the city's trucks. You sat in the back still staring out the window, rubbing at the bruise on your arm. Chris stared at you through the rear view window, tapping on the steering wheel.

“I’m Chris by the way, I didn’t mean to abduct you but, you got caught in crossfire.”

Even in a time like this Chris couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, his hand gripping at the steering wheel again.

“I’m (Y/N), and don’t be sorry I’m grateful, really. Thank you, Chris.”

Chris saved a hopeless civilian, you just kept thanking your lucky star you were in the right place at the right time.

When the car came to a stop, Chris turned to you, clearing his throat.

“Please- don’t leave the car. I won’t be more than maybe twenty minutes alright? Not that I care where you go or anything but, for your general safety.”

Chris spoke as he grabbed his gun from the passengers seat, checking sits magazine. His eyes shifted to the rear view window again, you saluted your fingers at him with a smile.

“Yes sir, Captain… Redfield?”

You squinted trying to read the badge on his chest. It was sarcasm and he couldn’t help but smirk before getting out of the car.

—-

You swore it wasn’t even 10 minutes but the anxiety was eating you alive. You groaned loudly, digging into your bag to find your pistol , squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a yell of adrenaline, pulling the shoes off your feet because god damn did they burn. You climbed out the backseat and opened the front door, even though the streets were empty you checked both ways before sprinting across. The front door to the building opened, your shaky hand pulling back the gun checking if it was ready to fire. Thank god your dad was a cop, because when he forced you to do all that training when you were younger you were thanking him from his grave. You ran down the flight of stairs, just following the sound of people. But the sound of “people '' was just a lot of moaning and groaning. You almost slipped off the last step, gaining your balance. You saw Chris surrounded by a bunch of… people? They were attacking him and he was shooting back but was obviously having trouble. You raised your arms with the pistol in hand, giving yourself a small mental pep talk which mostly consisted of “Please don’t shoot him” and “What if i shoot the wall” You squeezed your eye shut, your finger pressing into the trigger, a groan from Chris being heard as he pushed the now corpse off his body.

“Thank god Leon-“

Chris stopped dead in his tracks as he stood up, looking at you.

“What are you DOING?”

Chris screamed, walking towards you as you lowered the gun.

“I’m sorry! I got nervous by myself out there and when I came in here all I heard was grunting. I got worried!”

You yelled back as Chris ran his hand over his face in frustration. The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds before the door behind you swung open, Leon on his bike.

“Oh shit, sorry am I interrupting-“

“Shut up Leon, we have to find Rebecca.”

Chris cut Leon off before pointing at you.

“You stay behind me AND Leon and I swear to- whatever you believe in if you leave our sight, it won’t end up pretty.”

Leon let out a whistle as the two stepped ahead of you, you felt like a toddler. But the fear bubbled in you once more as you all walked into the room seeing Chris’ friend Rebecca strapped to the table. Her veins popping, her skin so pale. It made your stomach turn as Chris pulled her from the table, her groaning as he helped her to her feet.

——

Chris had mentioned something about finding a vaccine, and kept repeating the details over and over to you as you and him helped carry Rebecca to wherever you were going.

“Wait i’m not understanding Chris, Why-“

A bullet shot passed your leg, brushing it leaving a small chunk of your leg bare and bloody, a loud shriek leaving your lips as your grip on Rebecca got loose. You grabbed Rebecca's arm firmly, throwing it over your shoulder as Chris looked over the ledge. He knew what he had to do, he looked at Rebecca then back to you.

“Please remember what I asked of you.”

He was so fast, it’s scary actually.

“Here we go, let’s lay you down..”

You spoke softly to Rebecca as you propped her against the wall. Rebecca coughed, grabbing your arm as you went to turn away, but was too weak to speak. Though your leg was pouring blood, your pants ripped. You ran towards the staircase, listening to the groans and gunfire coming from Chris’ area. You shoved your way past the doors, looking down the long spiral staircase

“Mother fucker…”

You whispered to yourself before taking your first step down the steps which eventually led you right to the room as Chris described. Out of breath, grabbing at your ribs, the doors automatically opened. A small smile on your face as you went to grab at the green tank Chris had preached to you. Before you could pick it up you heard the noise of stomping behind you, finding whatever the fuck that thing was towering over you as you held the tank to your chest. A scream left your lips as you ducked as fast you could, sprinting towards the stairs before you made it back towards the entrance of the staircase, hearing the glass above you shatter. You closed your eyes and sprinted your way up the steps, trying to ignore every loud crash and bang filling your ears.

——

Still completely out of breath- you finally got back to Rebecca, your skin pale and your hands shaking as you pulled her legs to allow her to lay down, connecting the machine to your best ability. She stared up at you with shallow breaths before her eyes closed. You let out a string of curse words as you gently lifted her head, connecting the mask to her face and pressing the button on the machine. You flinched, your body covering over Rebecca at the sight of Leon and Chris fighting this horrendous monster, your vision getting blurry as you sat back, beside Rebecca, looking down at where you had been shot.

“Okay.. okay..”

You whispered as you pulled the belt off your waist from your pants, trying to tighten it around your thigh but failing. You’d never felt pain like this. You were normal, this wasn’t normal for you. Everyday you wake up, you mix the oat milk into your bitter coffee and you do paperwork, all. day. long. Maybe meeting Chris wasn’t the right thing, maybe you should’ve just stayed home today, Maybe you shouldn’t have even moved to New York. Flashbacks of you and your dad arguing filled your head as your fingers grazed over your open wound once again. You fluttered your eyes open, smiling as Rebecca’s color started to come back. At least somebody important like her could live, important people like Chris- like Leon. They live, boring people like you die to assist.

—-

You were passed out and don’t remember much. But Chris does.

Chris helped Leon up, staring down at the timer on his watch letting out a yell of Rebecca’s name as he ran towards where he left the two of you. His chest aching at the site of your belt loosely laid around your thigh, but Rebecca laid quietly, her breathing steady and the vaccine was given to her. Chris groaned as he lifted you up, holding you to him. Stranger, sure. But somebody with your drive is needed.

—-

The sounds of beeping woke you up, a sharp breath leaving your nose as your eyes opened. The heart monitor went off as you sat up. Oh? A hospital?.. Your hand reached up to feel the beating of your heart, sighing in relief before a pair of heavy boots ran into the room followed by another… and another.

“Chris?”

You coughed, your voice was weak from not speaking days on end. It turns out you weren’t just shot in the leg, but in the side too. And when Rebecca reached out for you, it’s what she was trying to tell you. Chris wore.. somewhat normal clothing, leaning on the bed frame you laid on, watching Rebecca leave the room.

“Thank you, for what you did. You don’t understand you are a Hero-“

You cut Chris off, pointing to him.

“No, Chris. I’m not you. I watched you and Leon in actual shock.. I mean- my dad was a police officer but never have I seen stuff like.. well, that.”

You rambled, looking at the man in front of you. He stared at you in what admiration?

“You have to brainwash me now huh, or kill me, either one”

You joked as you laid your head back against the pillow. You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as you pointed out the window to the city. Chris nodded but laughed.

“I’m sorry your flat was destroyed but, my organization wants to fund you with permanent housing till we can figure out a situation for you.”

Chris walked around the bed and sat down on the chair next to your bed, your head turning to him.

“Oh so, I’m gonna be a prisoner..”

You teased before he handed you a pair of keys.

“By my organization I mean me, you’ll be staying with me. You’re welcome.”

——-

Chris Redfield. A man of his word. You grew fond of him way too quickly, waking up in the morning to him leaving for the day but as he walked out the door he let you know he made you coffee and bought oat milk and it’s in the fridge. He was rough on the outside but he was an angelic man. He cared for so many people, and he doesn’t like to admit the trauma he has faced. Nights where the two of you sit eating dinner and he tells you stories of all the places he has been. You could see the pain in his eyes though and it made you feel for him. You wish you could hear what he went through, but even from what you saw, it’s too much.

——

You set the table and all, making dinner for Chris and you put your whole heart and soul into it. He comes home at 9:30 every night, so everything was ready and you wore the nicest shirt you own that Rebecca had let you borrow but you still were nervous.

Chris never showed up though, and you sat at the table, tears filling your eyes as you watched the door in silence. You hadn’t even realized you fell asleep till you heard the door slam open, your head lifting off the table to see Chris walk in, his face cut up and dirty. You could see the moment his face dropped seeing you had prepared something nice, for him.

Immediately standing you ran to the kitchen grabbing a wet towel before walking back to Chris.

“What happened Chris? Jesus..”

Chris allowed you to lead him over to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet. Chris couldn’t help but smirk at you, the worried look on your face, your eyebrows frowned as you wiped at his face. Chris’ hand reached up, his thumb running across the dry tears on your cheeks. You turned your face away, continuing to wipe his face. Chris sighed, grabbing your hand, kissing your knuckle as he closed his eyes.

“When I go out like that, I get so scared I won’t come back and I will leave you wondering..”

Chris sighed as he took in your scent. Your eyes stared down at him, feeling your heart rate pick up as he brought your hand to his chest.

“And look at you.. you got dressed up and made me dinner? Just for me to leave you hanging.”

You shook your head at him, your hands cradling his jaw.

“No matter what time, no matter what day, even if it’s weeks, years. I’ll be here. I mean I do live here..”

You joked, your nose scrunching, causing Chris to let out a genuine laugh. Chris’ hands rested on your hips as you put the towel down, applying antibiotic ointment to his cheek and his nose. Chris watched you place the tube down, mentally screaming at himself as he stood, his hands holding your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours softly. If you told anybody Chris was the type of man to allow his partner to put bandaids on his scratches and give them soft kisses in return, they would laugh at you. Chris broke the kiss, sighing as he looked in the mirror, his hand running over his scruff. He’s really acting like he didn’t just kiss you. You stood there, hands at your side as you watched him pull his shirt over his head.

“I love you Chris.”

You blurted out, your breath skipping as he looked at you from the mirror. Reminding you of when the two of you first met, him staring at you through that rear view window.

“I love you too.”

#resident evil #chris resident evil #chris redfield #chris redfeild fluff #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield fluff #chris redfield angst #Vendetta Chris #rebecca chambers #leon kennedy #Vandetta resident evil #Vandetta Leon #resident evil x reader #resident evil vendetta #thank you anon

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class1akids · 7 months

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Do you think the Todoroki Family or more specifically the Shouto/Dabi plot is done. I mean Dabi was still wishing for everyone to die, so he still has not acknowledge the change in the family or why they changed being Shouto. I still feel extremely underwhelmed by the ending that we had with the Todoroki family simply because of Dabi’s words prior to passing out. I mean I also feel underwhelmed because of the lack of love or remorse shown to Shouto. But I felt like asking since I just don’t know how I feel yet with the Todoroki family plot.

For the Todoroki family, I think it's mostly done. The ending - as difficult to process - is them finally talking as a family, Touya airing his negative feelings and the rest of the family listening to him. While until then, the only person who listened to him was Shouto (the person he didn't want).

But also asking this question and just never giving a follow-up would be pretty bad form:

There are two specific story-beats that are missing in my opinion, and which I hope we will get back to before the epilogue:

Endeavor taking responsibility as father and telling Shouto that it's not his burden to bear anymore:

I feel like it's difficult to deny that Shouto carried the family burden all the way through the PLF war and the final arc, while Endeavor once again got to play hero. So far, everything Endeavor did in the final arc was "as a hero", while Shouto was left with picking up the pieces. To me, neither Shouto's, nor Endeavor's arc will feel complete until Endeavor chooses to assume the role of the parent and free Shouto of having to be the pillar of the family, so he can fulfil his "become who you want to be" role.

2. As for Shouto and Touya, it is really strange that after everything Shouto has done (and seeing how Toga acknowledged Uraraka), Touya just fully ignored Shouto.

Now I don't really expect Touya to be all sweet like Toga was, but I do expect him to give some kind of catharsis / closure to Shouto - something that tells him that all he's done wasn't pointless.

Now how this plays out, I don't know - maybe it will be just a throwaway line in the epilogue. But personally, I hope that it will come back to Phosphor - because for them, everything is about quirk and ultimate moves. When Touya copied Phosphor, I said that it would make sense to me if after all the running around it would lead to Shouto getting a power-up out of it - the family's power culminating in some way inside him.

I also feel like that unlike Toga who did some kind of act of atonement on live TV, Touya so far didn't get to do anything like that. Nor did we have a Todoroki family combo move in the entire story. Endeavor had combo with Bakugou(!), but never with Shouto. So that's really weird to me, and another option I could see going forward.

There are other little bits and pieces - mainly how Shouto NEVER got a hug from anyone in his family (in a non-murderous way) or even just a word of thanks. Also, how Gunga finished on such a chopped up, depressing way for Hawks, Toga, the other kids, etc. which makes me think that we will get back to them eventually.

For Shouto himself, I also feel like there should be more, and there are little crumbs I'm holding onto, hoping that I'm reading it right.

But I've been wrong before (I was so convinced we had a build up for Shouto finding out the truth about OFA before everyone - well, I'm actually convinced it was a chopped storyline, but whatever), my confidence in Horikoshi's writing is at an all-time low, and I have developed trust issues, because ever since the Dabi reveal, Horikoshi noticably has been cutting Todoroki-family content short and I don't know if he ever had a clear vision on how he could land it beyond that point.

It feels like he doesn't want to make it grim-dark (Dabi die remorseless), but maybe he's also feeling like a change of heart like Toga's is not realistic for Dabi, so we also don't have a happy vision. So I don't exclude he will take a cop-out of some sort. It just hurts because he tied Shouto's arc to Dabi's, and it feels like Shouto can't get an uplifting victory unless he figure something out with Dabi (or if we get Endeavor step up as father and let Shouto go so he can be with his friends for the end).

#c1a asks #todoroki shouto #todoroki touya #dabi #endeavor #bnha meta #todoroki family ending

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deadpuppetboi · 7 months

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Goretober Day 18: Herd

Darkness met his vision.

The door shuttered opened, exposing the outer elements to the inside of the office. The computer running the cameras had gone out, leaving dull static to die out with crackling footage. The fan stopped blowing, the lights died out, and all that could be heard was silence.

Mike Schmidt let out a shaky breath, feeling his body shudder with each breath as he carefully rolled himself back on his chair. He gripped the handles of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white, and he turned over to his left. He heard heavy footsteps echo at the far left, his eyes trailing over before catching the familiar figure.

It was tall and broad, overlaying the darkness from before, its shadow overlining two large ears and a top hat. It did not breathe nor did it take another step, instead, it just stood there, staring right into the night guard.

Mike just looked at it, refusing to break eye contact, his hands shook as he released his grip on the handles and onto his belt.

His figure was shined with the overlay of white, and the clicking of a music box was heard before a playful song came along. The cheers and chimes of the music radiated through the entire room, perhaps the entire restaurant. The figure’s eyes and mouth were illuminated by a light from beneath its mask, lighting its joyful face as its eyes bore into Mike’s own.

Yet, the night guard kept his hands as still as he could, moving ever so slightly to grab what he needed from his belt. Grabbing the cold cylinder, the man brought the flashlight out into the open, breathing quietly to calm his beating heart as he brought it up to the figure’s line of sight.

Once again, the figure did not move, only prolonged its joyful song before it ran out of its use. Then basking the room in darkness, its joyful face disappearing completely, leaving the night guard to fend for himself. Mike held his breath, building what confidence he had left, and pressed the button on the flashlight.

Instead of the hulking figure of an animatronic brown bear staring down at the nightguard, stood a young man who looked calm and collected despite the circumstance. Immediately, Mike started moving his flashlight around, not only confused that this boy was in his way but that the animatronic had seemingly disappeared. He pointed the flashlight back at the teenager who, by Mike’s estimate, could be no older than sixteen.

“What are you doing here,” Mike snapped, “You’re not supposed to be here! Get out!”

The teenager stayed where he stood, his face blank as he eyed the older man before him. He had sun-kissed skin, light brown hair that curled at the very edge, and light brown eyes that had seemingly gone into a haze. His clothes were slightly inconsistent, not necessarily bad per se, but managed to make Mike take a double take. He hadn't seen any young teen he knew to be wearing such an inconsistent style, I mean, when has anyone ever worn a plaid work shirt?

Certainly not a sixteen-year-old in 1993.

Mike clicked his tongue, annoyed by the teenager’s reluctance to obey his orders, he moved his hand to his shoulder. Bad fashion choice or not, this kid was in big trouble, and he didn't want to be dying over this kid’s recklessness.

“Come on,” he groaned, “We get out of this restaurant in one piece, you don't complain about anything, and I won't call the cops on you.”

The teenager said nothing, he just stared at Mike, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. It was as if he wanted to smile yet chose not to as the man reached over and roughly grabbed at his shoulder. Then only to pull back, eyes wide as a sharp hiss phased through his teeth, shaking his hand to relieve the pain that coursed through it.

“Ow-”

Mike looked down at his hand, concerned that he may have hurt it somehow, he realized he was shocked by the teen’s clothes. Clicking his tongue once again, he snapped his head at the teenager, hearing his soft chuckles emit from him.

“You think this is funny?”

He reached over to grab at the teenager’s front shirt, pulling it over with a tight grip, he pointed the flashlight right into his face. Trying to be as intimidating as possible, Mike had enough of these delinquents and their frequent attempts to come into this place. He was here trying to fight for his life for minimum wage and here was this kid (who probably had to worry about the algebra test) laughing at him like this was some big joke.

Mike brought him in closer, baring his teeth, letting his emotions run wild.

“Listen, I don't know what your plan is, but it's over. You’re done. I'm calling your mom and making sure she knows you’re here so you get what you deserve.”

The teenager stopped chuckling.

Mike fought not to smile, thinking he won this argument, he made the move to bring him out of the room. He pulled back, ready to think of a plan to get out of there until he noticed something wet slip in between his fingers. Confused, he looked down at the source, thinking it was his sweat, his eyes caught onto something familiar.

Red.

Dark red had come from the teenager’s chest, soaked his shirt, and seeped into the crevices of his fingers. Immediately, Mike took his hand off the teenager’s shirt and examined it closely, turning it over in the beam of the flashlight to get a better look. The dark red had coated the entire palm of his hand, making the man sick as it started to drip, staining his purple work shirt with its essence. He tried to shake off the substance before running it over his black pants, heart in his throat as he felt the liquid soak through and plant itself onto his skin.

Mike looked at the teenager, half of his mind wondering if he was alright while the other half was reasonably upset that he went this far to prank him. It wasn't until he saw the teen shake slightly, his throat bulging as the sound of gurgling came from the back of his throat. The same red substance poked through his closed mouth, each time the boy shook the more it came, coating his chin and eventually his chest with the darkening color.

Mike looked on with shock as his eyes seemed to notice other parts of the teenager started to change.

The front of his shirt darkened with his blood, bruises, and cuts appeared on his once-cleared skin, and red veins cracked within his eyes making him look like he was mad. Before the night guard could reach over to help him, the teenager reached his bloodied hands up to his face, one gripping his bottom jaw while the other over his upper jaw. And as Mike was his witness, he snapped his jaw, his bottom half hanging low as his upper stood crooked and uneven.

Mike flew back, nearly dropping his flashlight, his back hit the lockers behind him, shaking the contents from within.

He could hardly believe what was happening before him, his breathing quickened as he made the quick decision to run out of the office from the right before he was stopped by another figure. Seeing the outline of a familiar chicken, the man shined his flashlight upon it only to see another teenager block his path. He looked different from the teenager before him with his dark skin and his black hair tied back in a ponytail. Mike went to move right past him before he saw the teenager reach over and grab his bottom jaw and pull it off quite easily.

Mike yelped as he jumped back, watching as this teenager’s tongue moved around, uselessly hitting the broken jaw as his cheeks tore apart and bled from the assault. Hands then bent back to the point that the bones snapped and stabbed right through the skin, creating a horrible jagged appearance. A horrible and disgusting groan came at the back of the teenager’s throat, his uvula swinging back and forth from the call.

Mike hadn't dared to run through the left door as two other figures had appeared, one looking like a bunny while the other like a fox. Turning his flashlight over, Mile saw two other teenagers, they looked different yet had similar looks on their faces.

Blank yet anxious to show Mike so much more.

One had brown skin, his curly black skin waved slightly as he brought his hands up and dug his fingers into his face. And like paper, he broke through, crushing his bones and flesh and mangling it with his blood. Hissing slightly as his left arm seemingly rotted off, falling over in a heap, he ignored it and walked forward.

The teenager behind him, the teenager with tan skin and tangled black hair dug one finger into his right eye. Squishing his eye like a grape, he dug through his socket, scraping his eye out like a fish from the lake, and tore out the nerves. He gave a bloodied smile, watching Mike get cornered like prey to its predators, watching helplessly as he pushed himself back into the corner.

There was a herd of them.

Mike couldn't breathe correctly, heart bashing against his chest as he saw other figures appear from the doorways or even from thin air. People of various ages, both young and old, looked down at the night guard as they exposed their gruesome injuries. Some looked familiar while others didn't, two young boys stood at the very back, hand in hand. The brunette held a sinister smile while the blonde one looked depressed.

Yet, Mike did not attempt to close his eyes, his vision straining to keep on looking as the bettered corpses started to get closer.

Their mangled faces obscured his vision, their groans of pain deafened him, and the feeling of their split fingernails grazing his face shook him to his very core.

Mike screamed as his flashlight gave itself out.

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feuqueerfire · 11 months

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Bloodhounds Live Blogging

I've mostly been watching non-BL kdramas from 2019-2022, so I thought I'd give something recent a try! The whole series dropped yesterday and it's apparently action filmed + good bromance, so this'll be my weekend binge for now

Ep 1 (Jun 10)

Dec 2020

I can't remember having watched many boxing shows/movies before, maybe the Shark: The Movie with Wi Hajoon but I can't even remember if that was boxing or something else

oh yeah fuck I was so focused on the other aspects of the show, I forgot that the main characters have debt apparently agh it's so

ew Suju Siwon

damn, this loan shark really lending them 100 billion won for this hotel, that's wild

the loanshark mans has a scar on his face that he hides with makeup

boxer name: Kim Gunwoo (more like Geonwoo tbh)

oh lol that win was Hong Woojin's imagination? and then he calls Geonwoo a name and gets knocked down as his plan backfires pls

fun Woojin vs Geonwoo fight

ohhh I checked MDL and the main duo is Geonwoo and Woojin?

heh Geonwoo is so endearing with his calm and no-nonsense, serious answers

plsss the way their dynamic is switching when we figure out Geonwoo is 2 years younger than Woojin and then changing again when Geonwoo served the marines earlier? or higher status in some way. a sunbae

pls earnest, honest Geonwoo keeps falling for Woojin's lies every 3 minutes T.T

ahhh these loanshark fuckers going around offering to every store owner - anyway, I know Geonwoo's mother missed reading something in the fine print bc it was mentioned on a reddit on-air thread commend

oh? who's the woman with the tazer and the man who was "a fake" being chased?

ah, so this old man does interest-free loans and tazer girl works for him

these loan shark fuckers are sooooo >:(((( die die die

ohhh that scar on their face is like a gang tattoo?

I love how earnest Geonwoo is while still being serious and a bit naive and optimistic and just cute :> Though he's gonna have to change now that he's been pulled into such violence.

Ep 2 (Jun 11)

these loanshark fucks

D: Woojin trying to get a loan for Geonwoo T.T plsss

oh they have to work as bloodhounds? meaning they're also gonna be loanshark types? - oh they left but why's the title bloodhounds then, will they have to come back?

ohh Woojin taking the disrespect at the beginning of the meeting but being intimidating and giving a same slap back at the end ah

is this an Apple ad lol

ah so that's how Geonwoo and the woman's story connect - the guy who she's chasing is getting loans using homeless people and giving the money to Smile Capital glasses guy

Dream On Capital guy - is he familiar to us or no?

ohh is Chairman Bang the dude with the wheelchair? or is that Mr. Choi? anyway, are they gonna be the bodyguards that the man was looking for?

ah sucks so bad that when searching for loans, they keep being offered loan collector positions

ah security job

so indeed the man is Mr Choi

dang, interesting that Geonwoo is telling his mother he got all the money and how because I feel like a different character would hide it and pay it off in secret. he might've done the same thing if he was working as a debt collector or something instead of security though

Siwon's character from earlier who is apparently a well-connect chaebol with his cop cousin + the loan shark hm what's gonna happen - what's up with getting the loan shark drunk lol

ohh I don't remember this loanshark man calling himself Chairman Bang but I guess he did so in ep 1? so he's masquerading. also I wonder if Mr. Choi himself is just Chairman Bang lol like only Mr. Choi knows who Chairman Bang is + he looks around 60 which is supposed to be his age

ah Siwon's character's name is Beom

plssss Woojin lying in front of Mr. Choi, he has become an actor

damn, another interview step

broooooo just insane amounts of money but also don't pull it all out

ah, they have found the common enemy (Smile Capital)

ofc Geonwoo wouldn't be able to stay still while an old homeless man is beaten up

Ep 3 (Jun 11)

cruel or heatless or cold woman vs upstanding empathetic man ah - although I wish I liked her acting better? the character doesn't feel natural for her idk

plss their excitement at getting rehired T.T

her calling them oppa surprised e fr

Mr. Choi definitely knows the Chairman Bang poser who has the cut on the side of his face - oh mans name is Kim Myeong-gil

ah trio friends now

ohh the loan sharks investing in that hotel are gonna make illegal gambling take place in the casino at the top of the hotel -> send evidence to police -> hotel in ruins -> loan sharks will take over hotel

damn they're beating up Siwon's character just to scare him or what? oh nvm Smile Capital ppl here

damn I wasn't expecting such brutal torture scenes

and now blackmail material by making him strip down?

oh, seems like some of the people in Smile Capital (including CEO) actually worked for Mr. Choi back when he was a loan shark

goddamn so that's how Kim Myeong-gil got the scar on his face and Mr. Choi became disabled

just straight-up bars of gold lol

Myeong-gil is being real or tricking Beom with this trust and sweet talk about him being his donsaeng?

goddamn this crowd of people

I saw a gif where Geonwoo was waiting for some operation to be successful on Woojin or something, will that be due to this fight?

Ep 4 (Jun 11)

oh nooo he's going to Geonwoo's mother

wait, who is this who's stopping them from taking the mother? someone Mr. Choi called right but like who?

oh actually the boss called this man who went to where the fight happened but who was the one who rescued the mother?

oh sashimi knife - that sushi restaurant from before - he's the one who saved Geonwoo's mom

ah the 5 knifers - when those 2 talked about avenging their boys, they mean the 3 knifers the Kim Myeon-gil managed to kill - Lee Du-yeong and Hwang Yang-jung

they ate all the fucking rolled omelets without leaving any for the others? die fuckers

who's spying on the trio going to transfer money? it's probably the smile capital driver dude but somehow it also looks a bit like the knife to me oof

oh noooo yeah it's the driver dude and he got her while the big Beom dude is going to the duo

ah fuck they're sending so many people to capture the trio

damn bruh not a car chase but fucking car crashes

no Geonwoo don't get outtttttt

beat them with bars of gold lesgo lmao

pls their slow jogging with the gold bags T.T

Ep 5 (Jun 11)

okay at least they dropped the gold bag and several boxes bc indeed their lives are worth more + they got most of the money

the big plans of Myeong-gil and his men vs Mr. Choi and his knifers are fun, moreso than the trio because the trio often involves just fighting and some bickering whereas the big players have planning and intrigue and history

ah Mr. Choi offering him an out

lol the knifers and trio convo is so cute and endearing

lol yknow I did think that Hyunju and the biker knifer looked kinda similar so for them to also say it was like lol

wait, why'd Beom just fuck up those people? why mad?

he declined his wife's call? bro are you gonna fucking die? we first saw him while he was in bed with his wife too so

oh he for real slayed Junmin's throat - ngl I didn't fully get what their next step was, like, did they kill him just because he was the one going around intimidating people and stuff?

oh so they're killing Junmin and capturing Im Jangdo driver mans? I remember they said something about getting them to point to dead bodies or something

omg torture scenes D: sanding someone's thing and then using saltwater

Mr Choi got Jangdo to talk

are phones trackable or not? they're keeping Jangdo's phone but can they be found out through that

oh damn Jangdo also saying Myeong-gil and In-Beom are like brothers, they've saved each other's lives before

Ep 6 (Jun 11)

Today's plan was to actually watch eps 2-5 but people say the show is soooo good until ep 6 and it's one of the better eps before ep 7-8 seem different (?), so I think I'll just watch this one too

damn they're using Siwon's dumbass character to track the knifers

D: boil body, grind them up and pour them into the ocean that's so disgusting

who's seung-duk

the way the knifers know of myeong-gil's preliminary plans with the casino but still don't know the extent of how terrible it is

Mr Choi is making vacation plans? dreams of going to Italy? bruh he's not gonna make it out alive, is he

not this happy times where everybody's chatting and drinking and feeling good, we're boutta see serious shit go down huh?

as expected, he's also gonna be a dad, ah my guy i can forsee your death so clearly

okay this young kid isn't Hyunju, right? because the story doesn't fit with her history

oh nvm it is indeed Hyunju

huh? Geonwoo's mother didn't take Mr. Choi's loans though, so

teary-eyed grateful Geonwoo ahh

pls Mr. Choi keeps having parallels with youth like learning what flex is from Hyunju and thanking Geonwoo for teaching him what youth is

ah fuck they've got Mr. Choi's address, it's starting. bro people are drunk and shit now, right?

oh wait they're found the biker knifer Duhyeong's address actually? is that where they tortured Jangdo?

naurrr this Dayoung and his wife scene T.T

let's go knife throwing

damn so fucking bloody

ah rip Duyeong having to sell out the other knifer

bro wtf do you mean someone might have seen the car? take a diff mean of transport then let's go public transit where they can't just pick you off

ah fuck sushi restaurant

oh noooo his apprentice is fucking dead in the room

this sense of foreboding is so

noooooooo Myeong-gil killed Duyeong and his wife after he got the info? D: nooo. I was like dang, it would've been good if Duyeong called Yungjung to warn him but alas he is dead

another hand-to-hand knife fight

ah fuck I can't believe Yungjung is also gonna dye so soon before the fight even reaches Mr. Choi

the knifers didn't get to avenge their 3 brother knifers T.T this is actually so fucking sad man

it's interesting that this whole show is so focused on the fight scenes and intensity but in this episode, we focus so much on the softness of everybody together and the leadup fights and deaths are also so quiet and mostly solitary, this is so fucked

like bruh Woojin's just chilling and having breakfast

these scenarios remind me so much of my recurring childhood nightmare of home invasion by gunda (thugs) and having to figure out how to escape and then being chased while you attempt ah fuck

ah at least Mr. Choi has overcome the hesitancy to shoot though the fact that his safe and everything is wide open is a lot

okay I know he doesn't die because there's some surgery thing later on that's at least successful or something

ah fuck this Beom motherfucker

it's actually crazy that these evil people are straight up just defeating them 75% in like not just "oh they're being cornered but will easily win" but like people are fucking dead like straight up the experienced, big players from this side are just gone

as is the money and the house is aflame

bro fuck Hyunju and Geonwoo coming home to see all this

oh my god I did not expect to get teary-eyed at Geonwoo begging to donate one more bag of blood for Woojin

Fave Ep of the show and just genuinely suchhhh a good episode in general. The humanity and serenity of it drove me to madness.

Ep 7 (Jun 12)

I watched less than 3 minutes of this during lunch and then went to take a little nap and now I'll finish this ep and then go to sleep. I'm just a sleepy guy

and she's gone, the result of Kim Sae Ron's DUI

ah, time-skipped to a healed Woojin

the young girl assigning who's gonna take the top bunk after taking a look at them is so T.T funny

fuckass Junmin lives but the knifers and Mr. Choi are dead how is that fairrrrrrr

I'd be more empathetic toward this man's heartbreak at Mr. Choi's death if he wasn't sleezy toward the woman earlier like yeah fucker, get scammed

I'd be more empathetic toward this character if it wasn't played by fuckass Siwon

won't yall get alcohol poisoning

idk if I'm supposed to be suspecting people of double-crossing or not like people give up info when interrogated but what if it's like Minbeom's brother in law is actually working for Myeong-gil or something, y'know?

Myeong-gil could just use data but sure yep, wifi

did he actually delete some instances of the video or no?

damn, they really did manage to destroy the hard drive just like that? would there not be backups?

are we supposed to know who Myeong-gil called at the end at the serious crimes division? somebody surprising?

I know what people mean by it's a different tone because this is less action-based and more like the shows I usually watch with the planning and secretly attacking rather than fights.

Ep 8 (Jun 13)

bruh ofc the first cop that the brother-in-law would tell about getting the list of victims would be in Myeong-gil's palm

oh fuck they found the place Mr. Choi's friend lived where Geonwoo and Woojin also lived for a bit?

fucking dark ass fight, can't see shit

bruh bad cop good a good view

oh my god they got the whole detective trio?

bro so the 2 male cops survived and my poor girl just straight up got ran over and died rip

oh i see she's in a coma

so we just won't know how they caught the sell-out cop? or we're just supposed to assume they got some info from the fish farm lol

why the fuck did you yell Myeong-gil's name, are you dumb

and then also dropped the knife? you dumb?

and Woojin had also dropped the taser? fr?

you're literally trying to just fuck up the man who killed and ruined hundreds and thousands of people, fuck your "I've become a bloodhound" i need you to straight up kill Myeong-gil or call the cops right now at least tf

well at least keep a couple gold bars for yourself too because you're the poor people who are supposed to be helped too btw lol

siwon playing a fuckass sympathetic kind character is so agh ew also why give him all the money to improve their company image or whatever agh rich ppl like why would you trust a cocky chaebol kid?

well at least they do get 2 gold bars = 1B won = ~1M USD each

Overall:

Good enough, especially the heart of episode 6 but not something I'll be thinking about at all. The characters didn't resonate a whole lot, this focused a lot on just fighting scenes (more than like strategizing, being clever, etc, which is usually what I'm a fan of), the defeat of the villains wasn't really satisfying at all - especially with how cruel episode 6 went down. Also, I don’t ship Geonwoo and Woojin, sadly.

Rating: 6.5/10

#ep by ep commentary #bloodhounds

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therealpontius · 1 year

Note

For the fan fic requests: Steve-O and Pontius are on a camping trip or a Wildboyz thing. They have to share a tent and things get spicy

This might be alittle different than you asked and might not be so good sorry 😭

Plot: things get wild with the wildboyz

Warnings: drug misuse, violence, withdrawl,blood,NSFW

"Fuck sake!" Steve-o complained. As a punishment for being too hungover to even film for wildboyz that day, jeff gave the boys a tent and left them next to a random road that had a forest next to it were they could set up a camp.

Chris was obviously pissed but took the punishment better than steve-o who threatened to call the police multiple times. "Im going to call the cops!" He would groan through gritted teeth "cmon o' chill and help me set up"

It was already late so the boys had no plans other than to just go to sleep. "No fucking cuddles, im not gay" steve-o hissed while chris crawled into the cosy tent with him. "Stop being a douche, this isnt that bad when you really think about it" "yeah how? No chicks, no drugs, no anything!" "Yeah but you got me?" Steve-o just scoffed "im NOT a fruit" chris back hand hit him on the head "shut up and stop being so fucking negative" steve-o went into shock since he had never heard his friend be so aggressive but quickly broke out of it. "What the fuck!" He got up and straddled chris's waist, punching his face.

The withdrawal was getting on steve-os nerves more than he would like to admit. It had been hard for him to concentrate on anything all day, his body was shaking sometimes and he would get constant cold sweats making him feel ill. The last thing he needed was his 'buddy' being pissed at him.

"Shit!" Chris panicked, grabbing the scrawny mans wrists in a tight grasp to stop him from beating him up. "Let go of me you idiot!" He fought against him, chris could feel the blood from his lip roll down his cheek " you fucking hurt me you prick! Im bleeding! If i let go of your hands youll try kill me again!" Chris raised his voice, stopping steve-os angry squirming "fine ill stop" he rolled his eyes, chris reluctantly let go of his wrists.

Steve-o stayed put on his torso, making himself comfy right on his crotch "is it okay?" "Yeah its fine. What the fuck got into you?" Steve-o groaned in response, not wanting to talk about his withdrawal or even talk about himself at all. "Just needing some coke" chris let out a small giggle, not meaning to offend him "damn so i have blood allover me because of some drugs?" Without thinking he rested his hands on steve-os thighs "im sorry dude.. i really dont know why i done that" chris rubbed his thumbs in circles trying to sooth his friend.

Steve-o noticed this but decided not to say anything, it felt so good and he didnt want him to stop. He had had a crush on chris for god knows how long but had been too scared to admit it.

"Quite comfy?" Chris asked, referring to steve-o overstaying his welcome on his lap "oh shit sorry" purposely he grinded against chris while alwardly trying to get off him.

Chris had also had a crush on steve-o for awhile but didnt want things to go sour between them if steve-o didnt feel the same. When steve-o dismounted him and grinded against him he felt himself already getting hard.

Chris moved to his side to take his mind off steve-o sitting ontop of him, when he lay on the secret stash of weed he hid in his underwear for when steve-o was sleeping "what was that?" Steve asked, turning to face chris "nothing..." "you got food?" "No?" "Cause if you are eating, im hungry so" "its not food o' i swear, go to sleep" "is it fucking drugs?" Chris went silent to ponder what reply to give him "are you fucking kidding me on? Where the fuck is it?" Steve-o raised his voice "fuck sake! Its mine!" "But im having withdrawal! I could die dude" with a loud groan chris sat up, putting his hand into his boxers. Eventually he pulled out a small plastic bag that held a blunt and he flung it in between the two who sat with their legs in a basket "no lighter?" "Fuck sake" chris grumbled, unzipping his bag and pulling out the penis shaped lighter "fucking freak" steve-o mumbled, opening the small plastic bag to steal the blunt.

"You better share" chris added as the skinny man unzipped the tent and sat at the opening to keep himself dry but not make the tent musty. He took a long draw of it, enjoying the blazing feeling down his throat "auuu fuck, thats it" chris rolled his eyes, still lying down on the bed, steve-o sitting infront of him. "You want abit?" He offered, passing him the blunt "yeah.." after a draw he passed it back, steve-o scanning his face "whats wrong with you?" "What do you thinks wrong with me?" Both the men paused for a moment "your on your period?" "Fuck off" chris giggled, unintentionally. "Then what the fucks wrong dude?" "You stole my night time weed and your being a dick, im litterally bleeding as we speak" chris said referring to his cut that had not yet healed "were? From your vagina?" Steve-o shot back in a witty manner, making them both laugh. "I cant ever stay mad at you, you know me too well" "and thats why you love me so much" steve-o added to test the waters, passing the blunt back to chris. Chris lay his hand on the inside of steve-os thigh "thats why i love you.."

Softly chris glided his hand closer and closer to steve-os growing bulge, soft whimpers falling from o's mouth. Wordlessly chris handed the blunt that was almost finished back to steve, cupping his bulge with his big hand as soon as he placed it in his mouth. He let out a loud groan, chris scanning the side of his face carefully while moving his hand up and down the fabric of his boxers. Steve-o passed the blunt back "you finish" once chris grasped the blunt steve-o turned round and straddled him again, making sure his bulge was rested against is friends. While chris continued to smoke, puffing the air into o's face, steve-o grinded his bulge off chrises like a desperate dog "you look so pretty when your desperate for me" chris praised, his voice deep with lust in a way steve-o had never heard before.

Chris crushed the blunt onto the grass and flipped steve-o over effortlessly, sitting on him the way he was only seconds ago. Chris continued to pull both their boxers down, steve-o staring at him in either fear or confusion "are we really doing this?" He asked timidly "unless your not wanting to then fuck yeah" "yeah dude just get on with it". Chris looked down and admired the sight of both their hard cocks resting against the other .With his thumb and pointer finger he created a circle shape, moving it up and down just over steve-os tip. A soft grunt left steve-os lips that was probably more from surprise at the sudden sensation. "You like that?" Chris teased with a grin, steve-o just arched his back.

He stopped his teasing movements and leaned over to kiss him "HEY DUDE! NO?" Steve-o spat like their cocks werent literally touching "what are you so afraid of?" Chris asked seductively, rolling his hips forward to rub himself against the skinny man that looked up at him with suddenly soft eyes "fuck.. nothing just..." he trailed off, closing his eyes in bliss while chris continued to rub himself off his cock. While the opportunity was there, chris bent down again to kiss steve-o but this time he didnt swat him away and make a fuss. He pushed against his lips greedily. "Fuck, you changed didnt you?" "Chris just touch my cock before i decide to hate you again!" Steve-o playfully raised his voice, pulling away from the kiss.

Chris obliged, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks, sliding his hand over just the top. A loud groan slipped from steve-os mouth "oh fuck dude...thats incredible" "mhm..." chris groaned. He looked down at steve-o admiring how gorgeous he looked, god why cant he do this everyday.

The two continued like this for another minute before steve-o couldnt stop moaning, loud and gutteral only turning chris on more "fuck dude.. im like so fucking close" "same...your shirt, lift it so it doesnt get stained. Without hesitation steve-o ripped his own shirt off, dick twitching in chris's hand. "Jesus.. i cant... wait anymore" "just let go.. cmon" with a loud exaggerated moan steve-o came alover his chest, chris very shortly came too at the sight and the overwhelming pleasure.

Short panted breaths were the only noise that filled the air, the realisation finally hitting steve-o "dude, cmon get off, i need to wash" he sounded upset with himself, desperate to run away from this situation. Im not really gay right? Chris stripped his shirt off and started cleaning their mixed mess off his stomach, aware of his regret. "Why did you ruin your shirt?" "I dont know.. just wanna make sure your clean" steve-o scoffed but looked up at him in appreciation "thanks..."

They lay back down in silence "you dont regret it do you?" chris asked, feeling guilty "yeah i do. Im not gay" steve-o bit, turning round to face chris "no one said you were, stop getting uptight we are best friends". Did he just friend zone me? "Just cmon, no one needs to know" chris noticed something outside catching steve-os eye behind him"what? What is it?" Chris turns round to face where steve-o was looking to be met with a very small red light "what the fucks that?" He jumped up and ran for it, it was a camera, a small hidden camera that was facing the tent. "Oh shit.." steve-o mumbled.

They spent a whole hour trying to delete their now sex tape from the camera but were unsuccessful, it had been determined that it was one of theirs from the wildboyz sticker that sat at the bottom"i cant let jeff see this, no fucking way" steve-o growled, resting his head in his hand "we will just say that it got lost. Some animal came by and ran with it"

The whole night was silent from then on. Chris slept like a baby but steve-o got absolutely none, tossing and turning, not exactly regretting it but uncomfortable with himself.

The boys woke up to jeff blowing an air horn inbetween their heads, both of them jumping and staring at jeff like they wished death on him “wake up sleepy heads we gotta head” the crew had started lifting their luggage to the van so that they didnt take forever to pack it. “Too early, too fucking early” steve-o grumbled “whats wrong boys busy night?” Jeff smirks making both theirs face’s go red, he then proceeded to take the camera from under steve-os pillow. He smiled at their plum coloured faces “live camera…”

#jackass #chris pontius #wildboyz #mtv jackass #fanfic #steve o

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ahaura · 1 year

Text

yellowjackets s2e9 lb

"the wilderness chose" I DONT THINK IT DID BUT OK!!!!

I RECOGNIZE THOSE CHORDS? GUITAR? HELLOOOOOOOO ITS BEEN YEARS

ZOMBIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

ok but like. the wilderness"" might have gotten into them but they CHOSE to do it that way like they CHOSE to let javi drown/freeze to death i think thats more them devolving into "survival on the only way know how to justify it to themselves" mode

also how insane is it that they were all willing to eat natalie 10 minutes ago and theyve all been starving and just like that your team turns on you bec "the wilderness chose' thats nuts

"give it a hunt" is this when my girl lisa dies. i will beat up misty for lisa idc

i dont mean to get personal on main but lottie's desperation...for lack of a better word... reminds me of me when i **** ** **** ***** and at that time i was just. so desperate to believe in [redacted] i was DESPERATE i was so far down i was just clawing at the pit walls like. god.

"make sure none of your people are here for this" NOOOOOO LISA

"we got over it" LIIIIIIIIIIIES

"i didnt want this" "you started this" LETSGOOOOOOO

oh this is so fucked

shauna butchered them... alone... it was her duty.... no wonder shes so fucked up

WALTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

SO GOOD TO SEE HIM

jeff.... the cops.... bleh

NATALIE TRYING TO SAVE LISA BUT WE KNOW HOW THIS GOES

"youre not like them" "im worse" OH NAT NO NO NO NO NO

"im glad im alive" van says to travis whose brother just died because the team is starving and it was supposed to be natalie but misty saved her so javi died in his place and theyre going to eat javi and travis will have to eat his brother to survive. insane people.

"let your brother save you, travis. after everything he went through out here. dont you at least owe him that?" INSANE INSANE INSANE INSANE INSANE INSANE FUCKING THING TO SAY VAN HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT FUCKING CRAZY

walter i likeyou so much please stick around 4 life youre so funny

"youre being awfully judgy about mom considering this all started because of your lame attempt at blackmail" CALLIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE LETS FUCKING GO

i feel so bad for her. her parents suck so fucking bad her mom is fucked up and withheld love from her and doesnt love her like her dead baby brother and her dad is a pathetic dude who is like, trying his best but hes just sO pathetic and not even in a fun way. he has the spirit tho. shes gonna be sSOOOOO fucked up when shes grown up

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAH WALTER YOU LEGEND

walter and misty match made in heaven TBH

OH GOD

JAVI'S LITERAL HEART? OH GOD

is that... buffy sainte marie singing?

I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I CALLED IT KNEW IT LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO

OH MY GOD? MAYBE CALLIE?

CALLIE OR LISA WHICH IS IT

LET THE COP DIE IN THEIR PLACE DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT

jesus christ

they really never left huh

WALTER TALTERSAL YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING PSYCHO YOU ARE SO MUCH FUN

walter fucking over this smarmy little shit cop is SOOOOOOOOOOOO fun

oh my god lottie

the wilderness left lottie...?

NATALIE????????

IS NATALIE THE ANTLER QUEEN

OH MY GOD THAT INSANE

I LOVE IT

HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

what is a god to a nonbeliever etc etc oh my GOD NATALIEEEEEE

"you were always its favorite" OH MY GOD???????????/

LISAAAAAAAA MY GIRL LISA LISA LISA LISA

"we tried to kill you and it wouldn't let us"

INSANE INSANE INSANE INSANE INSANE

THE ATHEIST WHO MEETS GOD THE NONBELIEVER THE TRUE RELUCTANT SAINT THE UNWILLING APOSTLE ET CETERA LETS FUCKINGGOOOOOOO?

lottie kissing natalie's hand is insane im goi g insane INSANE INSANE INSANE INSANE

the girls allow javi to die in nat's place (or the wilderness kill him in nat's place) > shauna offers travis javi's heart to eat as first dibs in honor/waiting for permission > travis eats his brother's heart > natalie is named lottie's successor as the unwilling apostle the reluctant saint the cursed etc etc > travis places her hand on his heart

NAT BEING "CHOSEN" ALL THOSE YEARS AGO

NAT THROWING HERSELF IN FRONT OF SOMEONE WHO GAVE HER FORGIVENESS TO SAVE LISA

aaaaaand radiohead to send us off eh?

NAT IS DYING OH GOD

nat :(

WHAT DO YOU EAN WE'LL SEE?

CALLIE???????

COACH TRIED TO BURN THEM ALIVE?

OH I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO HIS DEMISE

#📺 lb

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extracrispycolonelw · 1 year

Text

October_10th_1993.docx

CW Self Harm / Suicide, dark themes

I remember summer.

The summer of nineteen-ninety-one was a good one. Heat was awful, but that was nothing new. Patricia Troutman announced to all her friends that she was pregnant with her third. Eddy Maher was back home from a six-year stint in County after the drunk driving incident on the road eastbound from Muldraugh with the six-year-old girl. Police had to tase him so bad he pissed his self; dumb old Eddy had gotten drunk and tried stealing his mama’s suburban. Brandon’s girl, Hope, got hit by a car a week after that, I think. My dog died that same July. Quieted down for a while, although the Sheriff raised some hell at the town meeting that first week of August, some mean ole sumbitch crashed into a schoolbus. Buncha kids from Riverside Elementary, heading down to Louisville for a trip. Some field trip that oughta been.

Winter of ‘ninety-one entering into ‘ninety-two wasn’t too bad neither. Lucy, that lovely, lovely Cadillac Fleetwood Sixty Special that dad gave me, she broke down, had to have Ben get her fixed up. Fucker charged me an arm and a leg. Had to pawn off half of ma’s jewelry just to pay for it. Some asshole, George I think, he moved to Valley Station from Raleigh, he got a bad cough, the reverend formed a mob. They beat him to death. Seeing a holy man beat an honest Christian to death in the street, it ain’t right. Better than eating them, I think, though.

‘Ninety-two was a quiet year otherwise. Couple of murders. Some girl from Muldraugh got outted by her parents, she was pregnant. Think it was some guy, she was young though. Found her body splattered across the highway, not a hundred feet away from the Spiffo’s. Sheriff’s deputy said it was a tractor trailer that hit her. I saw it, on my way back from visiting Dad. Nasty as all hell. Summer was hazy. A lot of drinking and a lot of coke. Lucy got stole by some prick, think it got sold to the asshole who runs the used car dealership on the road south out of Westpoint. Pastor of my church that replaced the reverend, he let me sleep in the back. Good man, letting a prostitute sleep in his church.

‘Ninety-three’s turning out to be an awful year. It’s October tenth. All this shit started back in… July, I think. Pastor came at me with half a face, think it was the ninth. Screwdriver through the eye put him out of his misery… and I think it was misery, how his guts were all hanging out of him.

Got the hell outta dodge as soon as possible. Couldn’t get a car so I just walked after I scrounged around in the middle school. Stole some books, some food. Then I just… just walked, and walked, went on for miles. Ran out of water fast. Thought I was gonna die after a while. Lot of cars on the road, no drivers.

Nearly ran out of water, while down the road past Westpoint. Got lucky though… bunch of douchebags in camo and safety vests set up camp off the side of the road. Had a pot of water, clean water. Kept me going till I got to a rest stop. Had a Spiffo’s, an Army Surplus and a gas station, I managed to steal a suburban, drove past a pile-up outside of Muldraugh and kept going until I was out of that Godforsaken town. So many people out, none of them were alive. Half-eaten bodies all over town, more abandoned cars. Dead cops, jersey barriers and police SUVs cordoning off half the goddamn town.

Made it to Rosewood after a day or two of driving. Fire Department and PD were sacked. PD Armoury wasn’t though. Beat a cop without a jaw till his head was soup, took his key, stole some guns and fished around the fire department. It was defensible, so I decided to settle down there. July went, August came. I trained my hand at woodworking, learned how to shoot. Got good with taking care of my things. August was a lot of picking through the shit left in the super market, getting all the rotten food stashed away for composting and keeping all the non-perishables for myself. Fence around the fire department kept the dead out, although that wasn’t to say I didn’t see none. Hurt to do at first… but after a while I got numb to it, y’know? Like learning a new skill or hunting for the first time. Ain’t like killing deer, though. Even with their faces all rotten and decrepit… they were people. Still looked like people. About two-thousand or so in and I stopped feeling it.

September came ‘round and I had cabbages instead of shitty canned food, chips and chocolate. Found a military APC, one of the big boxy tracked ones, crashed into some station wagon down the road. Still worked, too. Little while of messing with it, and it was mine. Took a trip up to the fort up the ways, Redstone. Got plenty of guns, plenty of ammo, came back. That made three thousand or so. Spent the rest of the month knocking down the walls inside the fire department and fixing up the perimeter. Broken down cars, fortified wooden walls, dumpsters. Everything I could find. Metal plates, bars, everything, it all was nailed and welded together. Moved all the shelves upstairs, started organizing everything.

October came, and the morning of October first, a helicopter crashed into the police building. Burned for a while, then the dead came. Took my guns and started shooting until I didn’t hear pounding on my walls. Climbed out and kept shooting until I stopped hearing the moaning and the growling. Started drinking after that—stayed inside, the smell was so rank. Today is October Tenth. I write this as I watch my home burn down, with nothing to do but stay out of the way as all the ammo cooks off and detonates from inside. I heard the generator blow at around three in the morning, started a fire I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop. Grabbed my bugout bag and I ran. Got outside and watched it all burn.

I’m gonna go home tomorrow. Find a nice handgun, some ammo, and burn it all down. The church. My dad’s house. All of it. Nothing left to do anymore. Goodbye, Knox Country.

RIP Holly Knight, 10/09/1966 – 10/10/1993.

#short fiction #short story #writeblr #pz #project zomboid

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oflgtfol · 1 year

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Diff anon here but yeah it’s weird because even in episode 1 Din was not that antagonistic towards IG-11 despite having no character devlopement yet, he was annoyed and sarcastic but he didn’t threaten to actually harm him before they found Grogu. He showed concern for IG-11 pretty quickly after he got damaged and even when he distrusted Kuill’s programming he didn’t spit in the droids face about it. It just makes no sense why two seasons later he’s suddenly treating them like dirt.

right like din was obviously unfairly prejudiced about droids since he let his childhood trauma color his view of them even into adulthood, but he wasn’t like, “i’m going to beat you the fuck up” level of prejudiced? he just didn’t want to be around them, he didn’t trust them, but he wasn’t ever violent about it

din imo is just not someone who lashes out in anger often anyway. the only time he was ever really impulsively violent was in chapter 2 when he saw the jawas trashed his ship and he just started shooting and he killed like three all at once. but i mean also, like, arvala-7 is a remote ass planet (moon?), and having your spaceship ransacked to nonfunctionality is basically a death sentence (this is something ive talked about a lot in the past how i want to see more of it in sw, how any malfunction in this super futuristic tech can still leave you stranded to die a very very lonely and mundane death. despite all this fancy tech you cant escape the cold unforgiving void of space; if your hyperdrive goes out, you are DEAD.). so even then it’s like, well i can’t entirely blame him for going in guns blazing to try to stop them from destroying his ship. but yes this was the only time it was ever truly impulsive and clearly out of anger, every other time he kills people he’s much more calculated and unemotional about it, like it’s just a necessity and so he has to do it it’s never anything personal. so the only thing that makes this scene an outlier really is just the fact he kills out of emotion

so even though his dislike of droids WAS personal, he still never got violent about it. as you said, he was perfectly fine with ig-11, he was just kinda like 🙄🙄 about it the whole time but that’s barely anything

and now in s3 he’s suddenly just like, assaulting them? threatening to kill them? especially in a fucking Bad Cop Good Cop maneuver? it’s just, i know he wasn’t nice about droids in the past, but it was NEVER to THIS extent, and it’s especially egregious considering he went through that whole fucking arc between s1 and s2 about becoming more okay with being around droids?? HELL, even in S3 ITSELF, din has R5 as a droid companion??????? if he hates droids so much to where he’s going to act like THAT in chapter 21 then why was he totes okay with R5 just a few episodes prior?

Also speaking of R5, where the fuck has he been this whole time these past few episodes. now that i think about it i genuinely cant remember. like did he just become yet another plotpoint left behind and forgotten

#ask #Anonymous #mando posting #mando spoilers #i just feel like a lot of how din acts is very practical. very measured. very careful #which is why the moments he acts on emotion stand out so much #and which is why this sudden impulsive assault is just like HUH? WHO IS THIS #the fact hes lashing out in random ass anger when 1. where did this anger come from i thought he got over all that #it was such a huge arc why are you undoing that #and 2. he rarely lashes out in anger anyway #and 3. MAN FUCK #I DONT CARE WHAT IN UNIVERSE JUSTIFICATION THERE IS #THEY MADE MY MAN INTO A COP!!#THIS IS COP BEHAVIOR!!#I DONT CARE IF YOURE MAD OR NOT YOU CANT JUST ASSAULT PEOPLE AND THEN SHOOT THEM DEAD WHEN THEY FIGHT BACK ???#jus this whole fucking THING is such a MESS #im mad bc they made him ooc and they made him ooc in a genuinely horrendous out of universe way too #like they made him ooc. all to push some cop shit on us ?#its one thing if it was just plain bad writing #but the fact theres genuinely such bad real world politics behind it is what makes it SO fucking infuriatinf #i could continue watching the show maybe if it was just bad writing but the cop shit is just where i draw the line i cant do this anymore

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

Text

We blame the druggie then he turned it against you a little and you said you didn't tell anyone and you said Jen may have no I did not say that and Jen doesn't know cops like that and stuff and we said this you trying to blame them and it got mad at you and started saying you said it in space so s*** and we see you thinking about it and then that was it and what you're thinking is a small time Coke dealing and you got in trouble there with some warlock guy and we heard you saying this guy walking around the circle and I don't know what that was but I left cuz it was going to get heinous and they bothered me a little and then they are in jail and turn out to be the guy getting thrown down the stairs and we weren't bothering you as them and it makes sense but it is what we're saying Melissa looks like one of them and we think we eliminated her and you say no she showed up at the Gulf station and then we said this how can you tell it's kind of the same reactions inside and it's a character like Jen who's in Mexico City and they survived because they're not human so I figured out something you're this guy is being forced to do stuff like that and we shouldn't be doing it and it's criminal and we're going to go after you for doing that and that was our plan yeah but you're going to do it fakely that's true too and you can't beat these things they just squish your head like an egg why would that happen it's because I'm not human either my DNA is and my body is need to understand it and it's too bad you never figure it out it's in plain English don't do that I can do what I want you won't know about it you still don't know about it they defeated your son's robots with ease and you still don't know about it. And those robots were huge and you still don't understand it or comprehended or know about it like you're a retard CAA says to me I say this I really can't stand it and you can't stand it what did George Costanza like everything is fake and made up and only the New York Times tells you what happens and they don't have any news in there. You going to see some stuff you're going to try bothering me in foreigners will come in and my people and of course demons and you're going to regret it so I'm starting to see what you're saying it's a stupid thing to do someone has power and the more I could probably bringing about it the whole time I've also had enough of that and it took over and they're still greening and they probably forgot about it all sorts of stuff going on and we see people that look like you in Miami so going down there and he says that's good the more luck will probably follow you and they're as smart as a tube f****** sock. I got something else he's having a lot of problems with him they're running around him treating like it's nothing and it's horrible he can't take it at all and he is one who will terminate them if he has the opportunity one way or the other they will die because of what they're doing and we see them dying all the time and people can't understand it and he is not using any methods that are visible because he's not a slob who has to tell people stuff who don't mean anything that's what he says now we're moving on I got to get out of here at this place sucks I do understand what you say I have to know if it's true and the guy went after Lily and it looks like Tommy after something looks like that guy right there I'm not sure who that is he thinks it's Trump. And he got it you told him when he came up and asked us and we said yeah that's the code as soon as your friend figures it out in seconds I don't know what we're doing at all and I got a problem

It's my problem I let it go and I start screwing around with him everyone did it's ridiculous he's mad and hell nobody cares it's going to matter

Mac

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the-underworld-aes · 1 year

Text

I posted 65 times in 2022

That's 40 more posts than 2021!

23 posts created (35%)

42 posts reblogged (65%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sleepytime-moga

@seafoamfucker

@ma2ereki

@oda-haruko

@vampnightwing

I tagged 54 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#rambling - 20 posts

#mafia 3 - 13 posts

#goncharov - 12 posts

#john donovan - 8 posts

#mafia iii - 7 posts

#ouatih - 6 posts

#lincoln clay - 5 posts

#thoughts - 4 posts

#mafia 3 definitive edition - 4 posts

#cars - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 115 characters

#lincoln is my fave character but lack of fleshed out story for donovan makes me hyperfocus on him and i wanna fight

My Top Posts in 2022:

Mafia 3

Okay so I’m gonna take the L and admit I’ve never played the other 2 games, I just watched the cut-scene movies on YouTube, and while I enjoyed the story and characters of the first 2, when I watched Mafia 3′s it DID something to me. So I actually went out and got the game so I can play it all myself.

First things first, I’m gonna wonder why people seem to hate this game so much until the day I die, sure it’s glitchy but not as bad as any Bethesda glitch I’ve seen and nothing game breaking, more or less just funny stuff like “lol that cop car exploded in the middle of the street. I’m gucci tho.”. I really like the time-period cause I actually like learning about the 60′s in American history because SO MUCH important stuff was set in motion back then. Others seem to not like how it’s nt focused on the Italian Mafia anymore and...sure?? I guess?? I mean they’re still there, you’re allied with some Italians while taking out the bigger Italian crime family (I think they’re mad that the protag is black and it’s an important part of the game tbh) And another complaint I see a lot is the games too repetitive, I think that’s the lamest excuse personally. I played this after I beat Far Cry 6, and honestly? It was NICE! I like being able to sneak and take people down, or just blow up everything! Maybe it’s cause I’m autistic perhaps (ASD gang rise up!) but having a pattern was nice for me, I have a specific way of playing and it was fun. Hell, I’ve beat the game twice already cause it felt nice to play.

I know this game came out in 2016 and I’m way late to the party, I became aware of the Mafia series in 2021 and finally played Mafia 3 in March 2022. And I need to be physically restrained from playing it a third time lol.

See the full post

7 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

Found this under Nuit Blanche in the alt escape route.

I've never seen this in the game before this is so cool!

7 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Because I’m on the Spectrum™...

I would post this on my art blog but what good would that do? I guess this is unofficially also a fandom blog... anyways

So! A thing I like doing is figuring out timelines, time frames, dates and fun stuff like that. And I gotta say, the timeline of events in Mafia 3 is INFURIATING! And according to THIS it’s the lead world designers preferred playthrough. I know I probably should take this with a huge grain of salt, but going by this it throws so many things out of wack (especially making Sign of the Times be the last DLC story you touch)

So, February 27th is when things kinda kick off, Lincoln’s friends and family are killed and he’s left for dead by the Marcanos.

Bullet wound takes on average 2 months at most to recover from (from mixed sources 😵)

Lincoln was still bed ridden when MLK was assassinated on April 4th. So I assume he was walking a bit after that, mid-April.

So mid April is when he was up moving around and getting things set up.

The DLC’s, despite not supposing to be in order, 1 of them has a specific date correlated with it.

The DLC stories become available after you get have all the under bosses and do that Sit Down mission.

The “Sign of the Times” DLC introduces character, Anna McGee, without getting too much into it, her death date on her grave is “June 6th 1968

So, set time or no, this implies the cult shenanigans happen immediately while Lincoln is getting into contact with Cassandra, Vito and Burke and he’s juggling them on top of this.

Must happen only in the span of a few days, not even a week.

For the rest of June, I guess Lincoln works at a more normal pace but still a lot going on at once.

For reason the only record date one of the Marcano Capo’s is Lou, and that’s in July, so I assume the Judge gets clapped early July.

That text at the bottom:

This threw me off but I realized it probably took a sec for the charges to process.

See the full post

10 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

Hey I have a weird thought, do tumblr gays have a specific version of Brad Pitt they latch onto? There's him in Fight Club and Interview with a Vampire thats all I can think of.

I finally got a version of Brad Pitt I latched onto recently and I just kinda noticed it.

Is this common?

16 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

AND ANOTHER THING-

About Mafia 3

Some thoughts about characters and how some folks treat them:

John Donovan: Love this guy, wish I had more info about him that isn't all surface level and stuff I had to make up for a headcanon, but jeez I swear, at least on YouTube comments, it’s like people want to make him the Mafia games equivalent of Deadpool. Cause he’s “wacky” and “chaotic” and they want him to be the next games protag, once again, love this guy, but oh my god, NO! I think he works best as a side character and at most a secondary protag (like for Stones Unturned). If there was a game with him...what would it be? Just assassinate politicians in the 70′s simulator? Won’t be a Mafia game then would it unless he goes back to the Clay Family. That’s just YouTube comments I see though, but I got thoughts.

Vito Scaletta: I have to be clear, I DO LIKE Vito, but I think I liked him more in Mafia 3, very much Italian Uncle I deeply deserved in life vibes, I will admit though, even though I like him in M3, I feel like the devs leaned in on him being there as like, a selling point? While I enjoyed M2, I will admit as faves in order go, it’s Mafia 3, Mafia 1, and Mafia 2. Vito was getting dragged along for a lot of the events in M2 and boy, Joe was.... I wouldn't want him for a friend. Vito can be all messed up about what happened to Joe, but when I watched the cutscene movie for M2 I thought Joe was awful to Vito. Vito needs better friends :/ (also even tho I’m usually on team “RAIL THAT OLD MAN!” I think the Lincoln/Vito ship is odd, def not my thing and yet somehow not as offensive as the next character I’m about to bring up though.)

Giorgi Marcano: Oh boy where do I begin with him... I see...so many people sympathize with him or simp for him and it feels SO GROSS. (Imma be honest this mf is ugly he looks like a monkey with his busted hairstyle. Like if someone made a realistic Westernized Lupin the III but somehow removed all the charm from him). I feel like people seem to have forgotten he handed the Hollow over the the Dixie Mafia on a silver platter, that or they don’t care. The Hollow is the Black community in the game and the Dixie Mafia is all Southern Pride and Lynch mobs, all those Confederate flags... And I know that Giorgi KNEW THIS. I see people saying he was just doing what his dad said, and sure to an extent but it’s clear he enjoys what he does (He was so hyped to tell Sal what he did to Olivia), I will never forget what the Dixie boy’s did to Perla’s, to the young black women they forced to take drugs and exploited, the the specific targeting of the Black and Haitian communities in game, what they did to Casandra, etc. Giorgi was a spoiled violent Daddy’s boy that either was playing Lincoln, Ellis and Danny the whole time, or didn't care about them enough to even protest Sal’s orders against them. Even in his death scene, he never tried to apologize to Lincoln even if he knew the apology wouldn't have saved him. If they showed that, then sure I would at least admit he did care about Lincoln and all his friends that were killed, but no he didn't, just him and his old man. (PUTTING EEEEEVERRYYOOONE ON A LIST WHO SHIP LINCOLN/GIORGI! I CAME FROM THE FAR CRY FANDOM AND I’M SICK OF SEEING SO MUCH RACISM IN CHARACTER PORTRAYALS AND SHIPS! SICK AND TIRED!)

Game story and themes:

I will praise this game to the moon and back, despite it’s “flaws” like the glitches and game play. The glitches were not game breaking for me and I liked the game play honestly (I have ASD so that probably contributes to it). The driving is good despite me being a bad driver and I liked the how the weapons worked.

But I do have some thoughts about what I think was kinda lackluster and disappointing.

Lack of highlighting how horrible the Vietnam war was, condemning the army and the C.I.A. I know that’s so specific but you can’t have a Vietnam vet without having some kind of toll that it took on him, most of Lincoln’s trauma was mostly just centered around what happened to his family after he got back home, and some stuff in his childhood. Which is valid those things are traumatizing but idk, were the devs afraid? Also I know Donovan during the game is still technically in the C.I.A until he officially leaves in 1969, and he’s like, a big JFK stan, but like, does he know what Kennedy’s plans were for the C.I.A, is he blindly loyal? Was it game? I mean I know he does leave it but he’s been in the game for like 15 years, what’s going on? What’s all those war crimes for? Do the devs at Hangar 13 and 2K not wanna be put on some weird list? I don’t know, man.

My taste for found crime families keeps getting un-quenched: Looking back at the promo trailers showing Lincoln and all his under-bosses working together, with Donovan even tagging along, and seeing how the game actually played out... ow. The under-bosses hate each other, every convo between Lincoln and Cassandra feels like it leads to an argument, Burke was racist to Lincoln at the start, and....actually Vito seems like the most pleasant despite being a sad middle aged man so I’ve give him that. The most we get to them showing respect for each other is if you go to pick up kickback and talk more to them, then they’ll say nice things about each other.

Ex: Cassandra saying Vito isn't as bad as she thought, she thinks Burke is really fun. Vito thinking Burke is funny. And Burke having respect for what Vito's been through and weirdly enough, oddly respectful of her beliefs.

But that’s it, and they have no idea who Donovan is either even though he’s been working behind the scenes. And with how they are in game, I know they would NOT like him, I think Cassandra would hate him the most cause she gave Lincoln flak for willingly joining the army (I mean she’s right, I agree with her.).

So in that aspect I’m a little <:/ about. Not everything can be perfect.

OKAY THATS ALL FOR NOW!

25 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #oh my god im so mentally ill

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pyrholidon · 2 years

Audio

THE COLLAPSING TENEMENT - A case file cut from the game

Transcription under the cut

Damaged Ledger: This one's bad. Not that far from Precinct 41 -- in Central Jamrock -- there is an eight story apartment building with two hundred residents inside. It's the dead of winter, January. Snowing. Someone's beating their wife. It's half past midnight.

Damaged Ledger: You get a complaint -- no one's there to take it. So you do call duty. The beating is taking place on the eighth floor. You take the elevator up. The building's creaking around you. Cold as hell. It's a run down old place. Concrete panels, rats everywhere.

Damaged Ledger: And it's not pretty in the apartment either. By the time you arrive the husband's left. His wife has got her lip busted, face swollen. Eyes shut. Can't leave him, they're a *financial unit*. Enjoying this beautiful life in this beautiful tenement.

Damaged Ledger: So anyway -- you take a leak before you leave.

You: In the apartment I got the call to?

Damaged Ledger: Yes, cops do that. *While* you're taking a piss, you see a big crack in the wall. In the outer wall of the building. You can *feel* the cold air blow in. You take the elevator down, look up -- a big crack runs on the outer wall of the whole building.

Damaged Ledger: Right from the foundation -- up to the eighth floor.

Visual Calculus: Oh god...

Inland Empire: No, no, no, no...

Half Light: Fucking hell.

You: The tilt is beyond the point of maximum deviation from the gravity bearing perpendicular. This means that the building is falling -- and will fall no matter what.

Damaged Ledger: That's right. They trained you for this in cop school. Everyone has to pick a civil specialization so they can keep the city running: fire safety, first aid training, and so on. You took *building safety regulation*. And it tells you that this one -- is coming down.

Damaged Ledger: Maybe not tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow. Maybe not the day after, but it's coming down. In a matter of days. It is physically impossible for it not to. And the two hundred people in there? They are all going down with it. The woman with the busted lip, the husband who beats her, their kids in the other room...

Damaged Ledger: The drunk in the hallway. The girl in the elevator when you were going up. The youths on the stairs, laughing, smoking. The couple next to the apartment -- who made the call. They're all going to die.

Damaged Ledger: But, you see, it's *freezing* outside. And there is no municipal government in Revachol. Nowhere to put these people. Two hundred people can't go to their *aunt's for a couple of days*. And above all -- there is no one to *tell* the building is coming down. No authority but you.

You: I'm gonna have to find my captain somewhere, first thing tomorrow. Maybe even *tonight*.

Damaged Ledger: Bad, bad thoughts go through your head. So what you do is -- you call your partner. JV (only initials available) is up. He comes immediately. He didn't take building safety, but he believes you. He brings five more officers. Together you knock on *every door* and explain the situation.

Damaged Ledger: The load bearing perpendicular. The maximum deviation. All of it... Some people believe you. Most don't. Some you have to *forcibly* remove. Some even pull guns on you. It takes 20 hours to evacuate the whole building. 200 people stand outside in the cold. Children cry.

Damaged Ledger: Your captain puts them in a half-burned building 10 km South. It's got black mould and no roof, but hey -- it's better than death.

You: And then what?

Damaged Ledger: And then the building doesn't come down. And it still hasn't. That was 52 days ago. BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT. The point is -- it *will* come down.

You: Am I *absolutely* sure?

Damaged Ledger: 100000000000%

You: And when it does, everyone in there will die.

Damaged Ledger: At the end of the day -- no one knows. The math says it *must* collapse. And the optics show that it doesn't. It's as if some kind of *evil spirit* is holding the tenement together, like the jaws of a trap. Luring the people back in. One by one. Already they're going... At least 40 of them are living there now.

Damaged Ledger: As we speak. And you can't *keep* them from going back, because they all hate you. They despise you. They think you threw them out of their homes. Every day they despise you more -- and every day, more of them go back.

You: And every day is a day closer to the day the building will fall.

Damaged Ledger: Exactly. These notes have been very clear. Seems you have been thorough with documenting this one. So -- which one of these do you want to read *next*? (Because there is nothing you can do about THE COLLAPSING TENEMENT).

#disco elysium

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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nymos-is-now-my-son · 3 years

Text

Tracker ring

Heyo^^ this is my first fanfic for duskwood. Sorry if I make any mistakes in my grammar or my spellings, I'm not really full in English :>

I hope you enjoy and don't forget to tell me your opinion on this :)

Pairings: jake x fem!reader

Gener: fluff, angst

Tw: torture, abuse, use of bad language, probably bad grammar, kind of cliche..?

You and Jake are finally a couple :D he gave you a kind of promising ring, saying "If I go away.. or just y'know?.. I cant always be with you for sure, the government and stuff but..- I want you to remember me by this ring and never take it off, alright?"

Hannah is found and everything is happy go lucky...- or is it?

Mwaf is still in hiding and hasn't shown himself, you haven't gotten any threats from him tho so it's ok, right? Nope.

One day when you are coming back from (cafe/work/restaurant/etc) you see someone just following you.

You don't show any reaction so they wouldn't know that you have noticed them.

You try to go from ths most crowded paths but sadly to get home, you NEED to go from a valley.

When you get in there you put your hand in your pocket and grab your pepper spray.

You walk until you hear the person coming closer and closer.

As you want to try walking faster they grab your shoulder and knee you in the back of your foot(I hope you understand because I just imagined this in my language and then just translated it). You lost your balance and that's when they put a clothe on your mouth/nose.

After a few struggles you finally pass out.

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

When you wake up, you are in a place that looks like a basement and you are chained to the wall.

While you are trying to understand what is happening (the thing on the clothe he put on your mouth still a little affecting you), you hear the door of the basement opening.

- "Well.. looks like you are finally awake!"

"Y-you..."

- "Me..?"

"I thought you were gone!"

- "I'm still not done with you guys so why should I?"

You gritted your teeth and just looked at him.

- "*laughes* are you not going to say anything? Maybe something you want to tell your friend so I can deliver it to them? Dont you want to... talk to them in your very last days?"

"Days..?"

- "what? You didn't thought I was just going to kill you, did you? We have a 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 way for that"

- "for now though, I'm going to leave and give you time to think a little about your last words to your friends"

When he went out of the 'room', you start struggling again when you remember the ring. You try to look at your finger to see if it's still there and it is. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you relax a little.

"At least they would find out where I am.. I'm not going to die" you murmured to yourself.

Unknown to that motherf*cker without a face, the promising ring you had in your finger, had some kind of location tracking system, made in the small crystal of it. (Guys... dont judge if this is too factional.. nothing is normal in duskwood :'))

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

He didn't come back till the night, you were hungry but you didn't receive food. Just beating.

He recorded a little film from you being bruised and said "I warned all of you so many times, but I don't think you WANT to listen. This is what happens when you get in my way. Also, If you try to find her, I will torture her the worst way possible and then send a photo of her corpse to you. Remember that I. Am. Watching you~"

When he stopped recording you said: "a-aren't you go-going to do that anyways..?"

- "well yes, but they dont know that, now do they~?"

He leaves the basement again and you are left with your thoughts.

What If they won't be able to track the ring? What if he kills me sooner than he says? What if.. what if...

You sigh and whimper a little because of the pain.

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

It took you five days to lose your hope. Each day, receiving a different kind of abuse.

Day one:

He just kicked you like you were some kind of doll, leaving you on the cold ground, trying to breath.

Day two:

He just abused you with words.

He is still not giving you any food or water too.

Day three:

He made slight scars on your foot, wrist and chicks with a knife. Each scar deeper than the last one.

Day four:

He pulled out your hand nales.

Finally giving you something to eat but not a good food, a f*cking bunch of dead cockroaches and he forced you to eat them (yeah I know... disguisting) which you immediately throw up when he left.

Day five:

You are starting to lose your hope and his words are not helping you either.

"They are not even looking for you"

"Yep, I saw him with someone today... I think they were a girl? Not sure tho"

"aww, you really think they care at this point?"

Ofcourse you didn't believe him, but it was hard to believe that they were coming for you at this rate too.

After his oh so sympathetic words, he left.

You really wanted to get away from this lunatic, but you couldn't. Yes, you knew some ways of escaping but you wanted the cops to come and find you so he'll be caught. Kind of foolish but you didn't care.

~Time skip~

*Jake's pov*

It's been seven days, still I can not track her.. the others are losing hope which is on my nerves but I can't do anything.

Some how the tracker of the ring is still not working and I'm getting more and more worried.

The video... damn that fucker, she looked horrible even tho it was hardly the first day there.

I'm trying to not lose hope ofcourse, it's just like the case with hannah but somehow more depressing... I'm mean she is my girlfriend! What are the others excepting? For me to stay calm? Not fucking cry? Wait and watch as my girl dies? Yes, he send us another video and she was even more bruised, and the look in her eyes... oh how much I wanted that look to go away. Terrified, wanting help. Her body was filled with scars a dirt.. what the fuck is he doing with her??

Every day that passes and I cant track her is like a big punch to my heart... she might be dying and I'm here not completing anything!

But, I'm going to do it. Even if it means the cops will have to get me too I'm going to end this (ᴍᴀɴ's ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ...) all.

To be continued...?

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

I know this is so childish and cringe.. but hey, it's my first fanfic :'D

Also, please be honest with your opinion I'm not going to get mad or sad.

Tell me of you want a part 2 ^^

#duskwood #jake duskwood x mc #duskwood angst #mwaf #hannah duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #everbyte studios #this is cringy #fuck it

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— HYMN OF THE LOVESICK ; PART 5 / ?

( gif from this beautiful gifset by @knightwayne )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: Alfred definitely knows something about Bruce that you’re not willing to think about and Bruce has an epiphany that changes the way he sees you.

A/N: Guess who forgot which day pbr is usually posted? This idiot here. God, I’m sorry and this chapter can be boring. Next chapter will have a lot more going on, I promise. Also, this might end in the next chapter or two. Enjoy, folks.

WARNINGS: Kinda dramatic because I’m dramatic.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Driving through the Wayne estate gives you a sense of much-needed peace. The never-ending tunnel with walls of identical colossal pine trees as you faintly hum to Aretha Franklin over the low whirring of the running engine. It’s a quarter to noon, and the sun doesn’t seem to shine in the city of Gotham—clouds of grey constantly shield its optimum shine, only to ever allow rays to seep through the gaps in the moving Autumn wind. You don’t mind it and you never did, growing up in the city left clouds unnoticed to you unless it signified the arrival of a thunderstorm. Weather and nature are the least of your concerns but you would appreciate it now and then.

The tunnel of trees comes to an end as a clearing of extensive fields emerges into view. What is left of the Wayne Manor still stands with ostentation, despite its skeleton along with its dignity rotting away to be eventually consumed by mother nature herself. There’s a sense of eeriness to it; you find it odd how a building could seem so alive at times, like it's watching you, despite its apparent decay.

You turn your head away and focus on the road.

A glance at your hand on the wheel, you’re reminded of last night, when his hands held yours—it burns at the mere thought of his gentle touch. And the drive home, silent with the occasional glances and small smiles. You recall how the passing streetlights cascade hues of orange on his wearied expression and how his eyes were bright when they flit to your figure in the passenger seat for just a moment. Something must have changed between the two of you, but you can’t quite tell what. Maybe it’s your undying love for Bruce. Maybe he feels the same way. You snort to yourself, alone in your car, one can only dream but it doesn’t mean they all come true. Bruce may love but he doesn’t commit. You can’t commit too. Now, you’re starting to believe you’ve been lying to yourself.

The glasshouse comes into view as you steer around the bending road and into the driveway. It contradicts everything the manor was but only shared its sense of glory. You like the glasshouse, less deafening and structured with the purpose of bareness and vulnerability but its dark furnishings keep it grounded and secure. Its sense of balance tricks your mind into thinking you’re stable. His car is still around, parked by the porch but you don’t see him, ambling around the household.

Switching off the ignition, you snatch the paper bag from the passenger seat and clamber out of the car. Darker clouds begin rolling from afar, your hair flying in the strong wind. A storm is coming, you’re sure of it. One of the rare times it rains during the season. You dread the thought of having to drive back into the city and across Westward Bridge. Driving over bridges built over the water in the rain scares the heck out of you.

As you swing the car door to a close, you hear the shuffling of feet amongst leaves behind you. Alfred, with a barrel of chopped wood—stocking up for the winter. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes albeit startled by your sudden presence. He mentions your name with endearment; you greet him with a small smile. You always liked Alfred. You enjoyed his company.

“What a pleasant surprise seeing you here,” he says, pushing the barrel aside as he nears you. “I’m afraid you just missed Bruce. He left for Metropolis an hour ago—duty calls.”

You nod, ignoring the clench in your heart. He hadn’t told you anything but frankly, you weren’t expecting him to anyway.

“Well, I just came by to drop off this,” You lift the paper bag, swaying it a little within your grasp. “As a thank you gift, you know.” Alfred smiles at this, gestures towards the house in a beckoning manner. “Come on in, I’ll make you some tea.” Before you could even protest, he’s gently guiding you to the door by the shoulder. It’s hard to say no to Alfred, especially when he offers tea.

Your mind wonders as you watch the drizzle of rain form ripples in the lake. You sit on a chair with a contemporary structure to it; it digs into your lower back, due to your bad posture. Uncomfortable but nice-looking and great armrests. Contradicts everything a chair should be. Alfred emerges from the kitchen with a black ceramic mug in hand, steam from the brewed tea lingering above it. He holds an identical mug, for himself. With two hands, you clasp onto the mug with acceptance, a radiant appreciative smile upon your lips. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.” Alfred shoots you a look of disdain, “I’ve told you many times, Alfred is fine.” Taking a sip, you shake your head, a smile still lingering. “No way. I have too much respect for you to call you by your first name.” Alfred mirrors you, settling for the chair to your right, swiftly sliding the scatter of papers to the corner of the table. You find it easy to fall into a natural conversation with the older man—the two of you are mutuals after all of a certain billionaire. Yet, Alfred is more of a father figure, having practically raised Bruce and you, well, it’s complicated. It always is. You don’t know where you stand in his life, and you're not sure if you want to know.

“Anyway, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.” It’s true. The usual sight of the butler sauntering around the glasshouse or somewhere in the Wayne Estate was absent during the last two weeks. Alfred is always around, his disappearance was glaring, impossible to go unnoticed.

He shifts in his seat, placing his mug on the table, teaspoon moving with a soft clang. “I was visiting family back in England. I appreciate that you have noticed my absence,” An eyebrow raises, your laugh comes out more like a huff. “Always, Mr. Pennyworth.”

Family. Mother. Dinner—you remember the dinner with your mother on Sunday night, and you’re the host. The host hasn't decided on the menu for tomorrow’s meal. Oh God, it’s tomorrow. Procrastination is your friend but your family’s expectations for you aren't. If you pop enough wine bottles, maybe she'll be too drunk to be disappointed by the end of the night.

And the wedding. The mere thought makes you sick. You don’t want to bring a date, but you don’t want to be alone. Weddings, love, couples—it makes you tick. It’s a glaring reminder of how your love life is an absolute disaster and your inability to maintain relationships. It’s hopeless, you’ll die a spinster and everyone lives happily ever after.

“Are you alright?”

It’s funny how those three words have been the most frequent words you would hear from those around you. You appreciate the concern, really, but you can’t help but feel there’s a stronger and deeper meaning to those words. It’s a question of assurance, a reality check, and a realization that you might be broken. Everyone is broken—in their own ways.

Although you seem reserved to some people, your tendency to open up about your issues to those close to you contradicts that though you instantly regret it. Especially when people tell you to change. You hate change. It’s terrifying.

You pause, suddenly feeling...fidgety. Yet, in the words of Bruce: In Alfred, you trust.

Remember, keep it light. You don’t want to haul all this luggage of yours onto an aging man. He’s already got Bruce’s luggage.

“My cousin’s getting married in two weeks and,” you sigh, he listens intently. “And as pathetic as this sounds, I really don’t want to go to it alone.”

Your words are direct, straightforward and you sound like a whiny teenager or the main character in a Wattpad story but truth be told, there’s an underlying meaning to it and you know, Alfred knows it. You just don’t want to admit it.

He takes a beat, assessing your sentence like he’s a therapist, wanting to select his words carefully. “Well, I don’t think you’re pathetic. It’s...understandable,” he flashes you a pointed look and you find yourself straightening your back. “Why don’t you ask Bruce?”

Your brain must have short-circuited at that moment.

Oh, hell no. Not in a million years.

You’re shaking your head, laughing nervously. “No, no. No. Never. I couldn’t possibly ask him to do that. He’s already done so much for me—”

“You’ve done a lot for him too.”

A pause, words stuck in your throat. You just look at Alfred through confused eyes. You’re not sure what that means. He’s staring at you with a knowing look. You sigh, shaking your head in denial once more. “No, that’s...that’s not true.”

It’s almost infuriating how stubborn you can be sometimes that it’s even irritating yourself. You’re staring at your fingers, playing with the tag attached to the teabag by a thread. As far as you’re concerned, Bruce is...the greatest friend you’ve ever had. Through thick and thin, he’s been there for you. He’s always there. It’s partly the reason why you have fallen for him in the first place. Hard. He’s easy to love when he wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s rare but it’s beautiful. You almost feel ashamed to be allowed to see him in that light.

“Bruce will do just about anything for you,” Alfred says calmly as he watches you avoid eye contact. “And I know, you’ll do the same for him.” You throw your eyes at the older man as he cops you a look. Your heart is beating so fast, so thunderous, you hear it in your ears. He’s right and you know it. That accidental kiss to your forehead on the night you asked him to come for the play comes back to mind in a flash. It feels like a mark on your forehead, it feels like it’s burning.

“Would you like a scone with that?” He’s pointing to your tea and with that, he’s off to the kitchen once more, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It’s late—a quarter to four in the morning. He spends most of his nights in the Batcave, hidden away from all the sounds and tumult of the world, shrouded in the darkness as the light of the computer screen cascades on his tired eyes. He ambles through the glasshouse, weary feet against hardwood floors, body begging to lay on grey sheets though he dreads a vacant bed.

He strains his eyes peering into the gloom when he perceives a paper bag, sitting idly on the table by the window. Nearing it, there’s a yellow post-it note stuck onto the bag and under the gentle light from the moon that reflects against the lake, he can make out words written on it.

It’s from you.

Thanks for coming to the play. I would have bought you something else, but I’m really broke. Sorry. I owe you one.

A drawn heart follows it. It’s tiny. His chest feels warm.

He should have recognized the paper bag because inside, there are four bagels. Four Asiago bagels. He laughs, it comes out more like a puff of hot air, feeling the warmth that resides in his chest spreading throughout his body.

Then, it hits him like a bullet to the heart. The impact is strong, powerful. Your impact on him is strong, powerful. There’s no mystery to his feelings for you but at this moment, he’s completely certain. For the first time in life.

He loves you.

Bruce staggers into the chair, hand carding back the strands of his hair. He can’t keep doing this to you. Whatever the hell is going on. Your friendship, the...stupid agreement. He wants none of it because it feels like he’s constantly going around in circles.

But what do you really want, Bruce?

TAGLIST

@raineeace

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #alfred pennyworth #justice league

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teacup-crow · 3 years

Text

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

#wolf 359 #bad things happen bingo #Daniel Jacobi #isabel lovelace #w359

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