#anno you mad bastard

[kyonkyonson]

A while back, during one of the many times I think about Kamen Rider, I thought it would be cool to have a version of the original story where Hongo doesn't start with the famous scarf; he puts it on later as a sign of his rebellion against Shocker, to show he's still human.

AND GUESS WHAT ANNO CHOSE TO DO

[cordeliawhohung]

Headache

mafia!Gaz x fem!Reader | no major warnings: minor descriptions of wounds and blood, both you and gaz have a lot of sass |

mafia!141 consider this a part 2 to Siren

maybe one day you'll learn how to keep your mouth shut

Things were never quite silent in Kyle’s apartment, but they weren’t exactly loud, either. Well, apartment was a bit of a misleading term considering he had an entire penthouse in one of the most expensive buildings in the city all to himself. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he always kept quiet music playing through the speakers in the living room or turned on a white noise machine in order to sleep. Kyle had never had a quiet life as a kid, and finding himself as an adult surrounded by nothing but silence was more than enough to drive him mad. 

However, the only thing more irritating than silence was the grating sound of someone trying to buzz up into his apartment. It was as if they took the world’s most annoying sound and turned it into a doorbell, and it was so blaring he could hear it all the way from the bathroom in which he attempted to shower. He had just finished his workout and he wanted to wash the sweat and stink off of himself, but it didn’t seem like he would get the opportunity. Whoever it was trying to get in was certainly adamant, because the buzzer sounded at least four different times before he was able to reach the door. 

“Hello?” Kyle greeted as he jammed his finger against the intercom button. If this was Soap, he was going to be pissed. 

“Mr. Garrick.” 

It was your voice, he was sure of it. Even through the crackling speaker of the intercom and your heavy panting it was easy to make out that confident snark that exuded from every word you spoke. The way you soaked his name in it had him huffing in annoyance already. 

“How did you find me?” he questioned as he rubbed his face with his free hand. 

“Let me in and I’ll tell you,” you teased.

“Not happening,” he retorted. 

Your groan came through all too clearly on the intercom and Kyle had an easy time imagining the way you most likely rolled your eyes. So far, his only interaction with you had been that night a few weeks ago when he failed to get that USB off of that politician in the strip club. After all that blew over, he had a hard time getting you out of his mind. You knew about his mother, and more importantly that he was her bastard child, and that knowledge seemed to haunt his thoughts night and day. You appearing on his doorstep didn’t help to quell his worries, either. 

“Come on, Garrick,” you urged. “I just need a place to crash for the night, I’ll be out of your hair by morning. You wouldn’t leave a girl out on the streets all by herself, would you?” 

“Do you not have your own friends you could bother with this?” Kyle asked. 

“Awe, are we not friends?” you patronized. “Besides, none of them live in what I can only assume is Fort fucking Knox with this security system.” Your voice paused, and something in your tone changed when you next spoke. “I’ll be gone by morning. Promise.” 

And he wanted to say no. To turn you away and leave you to your own devices. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, you had proved as much all those nights ago when you stole the data from under his nose. But there was something pleading in your tone, almost tired, even. He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Kyle wasn’t known for having a cold heart. 

Without so much as a single word, Kyle pressed the button that would unlock the lobby door for you and wandered off into the living room to sit and wait for you. Surely it was a mistake to let you in. Riley didn’t seem to trust you nearly as far as he could throw you, and while the man didn’t trust many people, there was something different with the way he acted about you. It was like you were some feral creature, or a ticking time bomb. Perhaps you were something to be handled with care. Or just to be kept very far away from. 

A few minutes later a knock sounded at his door, announcing your arrival, and Kyle couldn’t help but groan as he pushed himself up from the couch. His sweat from his workout had caused an odd, damp feeling to coat his body, one that he wasn’t all too fond of. Still, he did his best to ignore it as he opened the door to greet you. 

It was strange seeing you without the makeup, wig, and skimpy outfit, as it was the only outfit he had seen you wear before. The woman who stood in front of him was completely unrecognizable, and you nearly looked… shattered. Your clothes were bulky and much too big for your body, and there was an obvious and odd tatter that tore the bottom of your jeans. A fair layer of sweat coated your forehead, and it looked as if you had escaped a prison rather than gone for a nice night stroll. 

“The hell happened to you?” Kyle asked as he took a step back to give you space to enter. 

“You don’t talk to women very often, do you?” you retorted, half annoyed. 

“Most women I talk to don’t look like they were just dragged through the bin.” 

The door closed shut behind you with a click and Kyle was quick to engage the lock while you strolled into his apartment. Quiet music continued to hum through the surround sound speakers, and your eyes seemed transfixed on the dim lighting and his impeccable interior decorating. A small black backpack rested on your shoulders, and you adjusted the straps as you took your time meandering throughout his living room. Despite your apparent desperate need for a place to stay, you didn’t seem all too intent on divulging why you showed up at his door of all places. 

“Seriously,” Kyle continued, “what happened?” 

As if annoyed with his question, you turned to face him fully while you gave him a careful look up and down. It had been a long while since Kyle had last felt like a specimen, as if someone tore apart every single piece of his appearance with just their look alone, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it coming from you or not. Luckily, you decided to be kinder than he had been and you kept quiet about his disheveled appearance. 

“Had a little run in with Makarov’s men. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I just need a place to lay low for a bit. Persistent bastards,” you explained simply.

Makarov. Kyle tried not to concern himself too much with the inner workings of the mafia world. The only reason he was involved with that mess in the first place was because John Price wasn’t a bad friend to have, and his mothers job and status made it easy to bend the rules a little in which he would receive good payment in return. But Makarov was a name that even he grew to fear. A ruthless man, his schemes often seemed to be more terroristic in nature rather than selfish like most other syndicates. 

The fact that you took on his men alone and came out unscathed was a miracle. 

“Oh,” Kyle said as if the answer was obvious. “So you just brought them straight to my front door then?” 

“Don’t be rude,” you said with a glare. “I’m not stupid enough to have someone follow me. I know when I’m being tailed. Trust me, you and your penthouse Fort Knox are fine.” 

Frustrated, Kyle ran a hand over his hair before he gave you the most unamused expression he could muster which only had you rolling your eyes, an action you seemed to do quite often. It was as if his confusion and concern was below you, like you expected him to just blindly go along with whatever you said. 

“Anyway,” you continued as you turned your attention to his apartment once more, “can I borrow your shower? You know, since it looks like I’ve been dragged through the bin and all.” 

As much as Kyle wanted to say no because he had planned on showering, he didn’t want to be a bad host. And really, you looked like you needed it more anyway, especially after running into Makarov. So he showed you to his stupidly large bathroom, complete with a garden tub and tiled shower. The vanity was large enough that three people could fit comfortably side by side, and the mirror casted a beautiful glow along the marble flooring with its backlit LED lights. 

“Fancy,” you commented as Kyle handed you a fresh towel. 

“Do you need a fresh change of clothes?” he asked while he ignored the way you gawked at the room. 

Smirking, you looked at him with a raised brow as you tugged on the straps of your backpack. “Cute, but I’ve got it covered.” 

“Alright, just… don’t take all the hot water. I’ve gotta shower, too,” he said as he stepped out of the room. 

“Yeah, I can tell.” 

Once the door closed behind him, everything started to hurt, and you could no longer keep up that snarky facade. Your backpack slipped off your shoulders and landed on the floor with a dull thud, and you wasted no more time stripping your bulky sweater off. Blood soaked through the side of your shirt, causing the tattered mess to cling to your skin with its coagulated stickiness, and you were unable to hold back your grimace. The large rip in the side clearly showed the gash that plagued your waist, and while the blood flow had managed to slow, a steady trickle still continued to seep into your shirt. 

You could already hear Shepherd’s voice calling you a failure. Not only did you fail to steal the laptop he ordered you to grab, you had gotten yourself injured in the process like an amateur. There wasn’t any room for failure in his business. Least of all from his daughter. You wouldn’t be able to show your face for a while, not without punishment. 

Everything you did to clean yourself up was meticulous. You couldn’t afford to seek proper care, and you certainly didn’t want Kyle Garrick of all people figuring out what exactly you had gotten yourself into. So your bloodied shirt was shoved into your bag as you pulled out your first aid kit. Cleaning the wound was near agonizing, and having to twist your body to the side just to reach it didn’t really help, but you wouldn’t be able to superglue it with scabs crusting over your skin. Any materials that you used to patch yourself up were also thrown back into your bag for disposal at a later time. 

Leave no trace. 

Never let them see you bleed. 

That night you slept out on Kyle’s couch, much to his protesting. Despite the fact that you were probably the least pleasant person he had to deal with, second only to his mother, he still insisted on being kind and trying to take care of you and offered you his room instead. While the notion was noble, it honestly made you a little sick, so you burrowed into the couch with a borrowed pillow and blanket and slept the best you had for a long while. 

When morning came, a hand on your shoulder shook you awake and your arm reached out with a jolt. As your body and mind began to wake up, you quickly realized it was Kyle who attempted to wake you, and your hand gripped the collar of his shirt like you were ready to fight. He looked down at you with a raised brow as he slowly removed his hand from your shoulder. 

“Gonna kill the man who made you breakfast?” he asked in an attempt to tease you. 

Sighing, you relinquished your grip on his shirt and rubbed at your face. “Depends on if it’s a good breakfast or not.” 

Once you had the chance to wake up a little more, you followed Kyle into the kitchen where you were painfully reminded of everything that had happened to you the previous night. Your wound had the time to grow sore, and even the simple act of standing or sitting was near agonizing, yet you kept quiet as you sat down on the opposite side of the island from him. Everything about his apartment was impressive, from the full unit kitchen with a gas stove, to the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city. Even you had to admit you were a little jealous. 

Kyle had cooked up a few light and fluffy pancakes, complete with fresh cut fruit and other sides for you to add to your heart's content. Really, it was quite good, and you were able to momentarily forget about your unfortunate predicament. Though, the fact that you were in Kyle Garrick’s apartment was still something on your mind, and his too apparently, as he hadn’t let your omission from last night go fully unpunished. 

“So, you never did explain how you found me.” 

There it was. You knew this conversation was going to happen sooner or later. Your vast knowledge often unsettled and even intimidated people, and it seemed like Kyle was no exception. Of course you could have done the smart thing and stayed quiet. Opening that can of worms would only get him to ask more questions, ones he wouldn’t like the answers to, and yet you owed him at least a bit of an explanation. 

“Your mother’s financial assets go to different places every month, but there are a few that are always split the same way. First goes to the mortgage on her rather extravagant mansion in some bullshit gated community. Next is a direct route to a bank account, which I can only assume is yours. Ten thousand a month is a rather generous allowance, honestly. Especially since none of it has to go towards rent or bills, because the other place her monthly payments goes towards is the rent on this penthouse.” You paused to shove a rather large bite of food into your mouth before you looked up at him with a smile. “And before you ask, I found this out due to a data breach in her bank. Stuff happens all the time, really. Can’t trust anything electronic these days.” 

Kyle wasn’t sure if he should laugh or yell at you. Not only had you gotten every single detail right, but you were much too smug about it. While your banter always seemed lighthearted and friendly, there was something more insidious about it; or maybe he just felt threatened by you. Difficult to tell, but he knew being wary of Shepherd’s daughter wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Alright, that still doesn’t explain how you knew who my mother is,” he said, the irritation already beginning to show in his voice. “You mentioned it the first time we met like you were holding it over my head. Care to explain that?” 

Humming, you swallowed the food in your mouth before you leaned against the counter. “Not sure if you want me to explain that one.” 

“Cut the bullshit,” Kyle snapped. “Does it make you feel strong? Holding personal information above people’s heads like this?”

“No,” you corrected with a slight bite in your tone, “it makes me feel safe.” 

With a short pause, you set your fork down on your plate before you crossed your arms in your seat and stared up at Kyle. Without a chair for him to sit in on the other side of the island, he stood much taller than you, almost intimidatingly so, yet you didn’t falter. 

“I’m very confident in my ability to kick someone’s ass, but the real weapon lies in knowing shit. It gives you the upper hand, keeps you from getting hurt,” you explained. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he retorted. “You flaunt it around like some all knowing being and then laugh in my face when I try to ask questions.” 

“Oh, is it knowledge that you want?” you challenged. “Because I could tell you anything you wanna know. Like how your friend Soap would have certainly gotten himself killed if he didn’t join up with Price because the people he worked for previously never intended to let him get any information and live because they don’t like loose ends. I also happen to know that the girl Riley keeps hanging around is a hot fucking mess, and he’s gonna find himself in a world of hurt if he keeps trying to pursue her. It’s always the quiet ones who have the most baggage, after all. Or that Mrs. Price’s dad wasn’t killed in a fucking accident like the papers would have you believe.” 

Eventually the adrenaline in your body built up too much for you to stay sitting. There was just something so infuriating about Kyle Garrick. Maybe it was the way he looked at you while you spoke, jaw tense and eyes refusing to tear from you. Maybe it was just that despite how terrible of a person you were being, he still showed you more kindness than you deserved. 

“Your dad is sick. Very sick, and has been for a long while,” you continued. 

“Don’t you fucking talk about him,” Kyle snapped as he took a step closer to you, and yet you ignored him. 

“Despite his illness, he works as a janitor five days a week for one of the elementary schools here in the city, but can only afford to go part time, so he doesn’t have a lot of disposable income. You love him. With your rent paid for, and more money than you know what to do with, you give a lot of your income to him instead so he doesn’t lose his home. You visit with him every Sunday for dinner, probably to also watch football. He’s the only reason you even work for Price. You’ll take any extra income you can get if it means expediting his treatment and keeping him comfortable and alive because he’s the only person in your life who ever actually gave a damn about you.” 

The silence that followed was the most uncomfortable one that you ever had to endure. You had read Kyle like a book, and all he could do was stare at you with some twisted look of understanding and betrayal. Finally, his eyes tore away from your face for the first time in what felt like ages, but you didn’t like where he looked next. 

“Is that blood?” he asked as if the conversation the two of you had was completely forgotten. 

And it was. That deep red color seeped out of your poorly patched wound and soaked into the fresh cotton of your shirt. Superglue was able to hold it together throughout the night, and yet the moment your heart rate went up from that petty display of power, you paid dearly for it. You weren’t sure what hurt more. The unhealed gash on your side, or the fact that Kyle still showed you such softness despite everything you had said to him. 

“I should go,” you excused yourself as you turned to march off towards the living room. “Shepherd will start to worry if I’m gone too long, and it should be safe for me to travel now that it’s light out.” 

Without hesitation, Kyle followed close behind you as you made a beeline for your backpack. It didn’t take you long to fish your bulky sweater out, and you tried not to think about all the bloody items that you had shoved in with it the previous night. Really, even if you showed your face around him that morning, you still weren’t safe. You failed, and yet facing Shepherd seemed more favorable to you than spending another moment with Kyle. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” he tried to reason, “if you’re hurt I know someone who can help. Soap’s girl patches up people all the time.”

“She’s an ER nurse who works day shift,” you said as you shoved the sweater over your body with a restrained grunt. “She’s got people in real need to worry about.” 

It all happened too fast. You had spent a night under his roof and Kyle didn’t even realize the pain you were in, and that felt wrong. Yet, you were leaving. And some terrible part of him didn’t want you to, so when you turned to march towards the door with your bag slung over your shoulder, he grabbed your wrist in some last attempt to get you to stay. Instead, he got nothing out of you but a pained squeak, and the moment you turned to face him with wide eyes, he let go of your wrist with the word sorry written all over his face. 

He was pretty. He really was. It was annoying. 

“I lied,” you suddenly admitted. “There was no way I could have known that you give a lot of your money to your dad. I don’t have access to your banking records, and never really had the need to. I only mentioned it because it fit you. It just seemed like something you would do.” You paused to swallow as you reached a hand up to your side. You could already feel the way the blood caused your shirt to stick to your skin, yet you forced yourself to endure. “You’re a kind person, Garrick. It’s a shame you ever got caught up in this kind of life.” 

There was nothing either of you could say as you turned your back to him. Nothing would change the fact that you were the bleeding enigma walking out of his penthouse, and all Kyle could do was stand there and watch as the door closed behind you. Maybe some other time he would be able to coax your history out of you. For the time being, you were still just Shepherd’s daughter, the woman whose name he didn’t even know, and yet the woman who turned to him when you needed it most. Maybe one day you would let someone care for your wounds. 

That day just wasn’t it. 

[redhoodforreal]

Why every batchild is scary (my personal opinion)

Nightwing he smile and he is like a puppy, but still a dangerous bastard inside. The morning you can enter in the kichen and he's eating breackfas and ask you haw you are, then you see a little scrach on he's neck and he say happly "ooh, that? This night 20 man try to kill me, but no worry, i beat them all to a pulp like you would never be able to do, have a good day, i go se Kory now, bye" or just smile at batman after mine a building and swear "it's Red Hood fault, i try to stop him but..." and everyone would belive him!

Red Hood i have guns (and not only guns) i can shot you, i will shot you, i l"m good with killing, i would feel no regrets. Fear me.

Red Robin He know, he just know everithing. Sometime he can look and say "do you remeber the first time you get drunk and batman go all mad?" he wasn't even there, that happen before he met batman! (That stalker). He know the bank account, pin,dirty secret and everithing else about everyone of us.

Spoiler annoing. She is annoing and she know, she is capable to achive what she want in every possible way, but she chose to do it in the most annoing way possible and when she chose you as her victim she wont let you go.

Orphan she don't talk much, she just stare at you and unserstand what ther is in your fucking soul. You never see her coming, she just appear out of the blanc, and she may be behind you for hour and you never know until she don't do something. She would help your enemy if it is part of the family.

Robin He's a demoniac being. He is 5,4 (shortie) foot of pure evil, he know both how to fake-cry himself out of every situation inside the family and how to kill/beat up his problem out of the family. He's like an angry chiwawa.

Signal he has both superpower and batman training. He's the least child so batman have no more the will to scold/punish him. He really look like the obbedient son, he isn't.

@definitelynightwing @i-am-robin-you-heathens @redrobinforreal is your turn to do it

[fallenpeak-blog]

No One Expects the Inkquisition | Nao | Re: Anaki, Higanbana, Akira | ATTN: Everyone

Things feel like they're getting... kind of desperate. Like at any moment it could all spiral out of hand. Nao finds himself looking around and around the room, his gaze hopping from one person to another as they speak, anxiously trying to determine what everyone is thinking. There hasn't been any firm accusation, but the names that are coming up are making him feel unwell. Madame Midnight, Higanbana, Atumemhet- even little Pheenie gets listed, though surely they don't actually think she's suspicious?

And then Higanbana brings up the angle of the bat and the blow, and whoa Nao hadn't even thought of that. Is that really something people could tell...? All of them... are really trying their best, they're trying so hard to think of how to solve this, to think of how the evidence could fit together...

Carla, Aka-san, Atumemhet again, Jasper, Madame Midnight again... 

"I should... I should say something, before..." Nao stands up, and his voice carries unexpectedly well, cutting across the makeshift courtroom, and he clears his throat. He pauses to make sure everyone is listening, then glances away as he continues.

"...I just wanted... a little extra time. Every minute counts, when you're, y'know. Gonna die and stuff. But I don't want people to start shoutin' or gettin' mad at each other so... now's probably a good time, before it gets... to that point. So... it was me. It... fuck, honestly I thought you guys would nail me to the wall in a minute, I feel like an even bigger asshole now, knowing you all... wanted to believe me that much... ain't like I'm even a great liar... kinda suck at it really..."

"But yeah, so. I did it. I was... I freaked out, after what happened to Pheenie-chan. It kind of hit me that- that no one... that waiting wasn't going to work. And I couldn't... watch any more of you get hurt. I couldn't take it anymore. I almost broke the second day, t'be honest, I don't even... know how I held back so long. Kinda wish I hadn't, actually, then maybe Chase and Pheenie-chan at least would... be okay. I couldn't even get that right. But... honestly... Anno-san is the one who actually saved you all. She walked in on me after I bought the bat from the Exile. I didn't have a plan or anything, I was panicking, and she walked into the room when I was trying to figure out what to do next and she... told me to kill her. I mean, first she read me the riot act, but... then she got all calm and said... it might as well be her, and she just... she closed her eyes, and like, bit her wrist- like she was trying to make sure she didn't scream- and she just... stood there and let me hit her."

"Anno-san is the hero. I'm just the asshole that killed her. So... yeah, just... yeah. I cleaned up after 'cause I just... I wanted a little more time before you all hated me and stuff. I'm a selfish bastard. And yeah it hurt, but I'm used to using bats as a weapon, and I have like, really fucking good pain tolerance. Kinda part of my talent. Anyway then I went onto the island and wandered around the forest, I couldn't sleep after that. That part was true. And... and you should all just vote for me."

He sits down again. Then leans forward and scribbles something on the paper in front of him, and shoves it into the pneumatic tube.