#but so many people are going to kill themselves if this kind of shit passes

[majoringinsarcasm]

Remember when they could pretend all the anti trans bills were to protect children from predators and now that want to just. Stop anyone ever from transitioning?

[nonbinary-vents]

There’s been a distinct shift in how leftist Jew haters are starting to express their Jew hatred and it’s… very back to the old days, to put it lightly. It’s two specific things that I’ve seen. The more moderate stance of ‘it’s so terrible that the bad Jews are playing into Jew hating canards, how dare they!!’ which, just… ugh. And then you have the extremes, the ones who say ‘yeah, I hate Jews, but it’s their fault because of them being the scum of humanity’, it’s the ‘Hitler hated Jews for shit they didn’t do but I hate Jews for shit they did do!’ (a direct quote taken from someone who I can only describe as completely deranged)

And, honestly, seeing this shift has kind of broken me

At this point, there is no denial left. There is no going back. The pretences are starting to be dropped, people are becoming more and more comfortable with their Jew hatred being about Jews, and they’ve realised that it’s acceptable to say that out loud. All they need to do is say it’s our fault, and they get a free pass. We are fully back in the nineteenth century, all we’re missing is the ‘no dogs, no Jews’ signs (oh wait— what’s that about a bar in America banning all (((Zionists)))?) and the pogroms that go with it (oh no, what’s that about Russia, Dagestan, an airport, and a hotel?). We’re back in mid twentieth century Iran, where Jews are stuck between a country not yet legally aggressive to us, and all of the people in said country who want us dead

I don’t think things in the west are at the level of nineteenth century Europe yet, just in the style. But I’m also smart, I’m also connected to my history. My safta left Iran in 1951, at the age of ten, because her family saw what was happening. Ninety thousand other Jews in Iran saw it too. They caught on and they left. And then two decades later the revolution happened, and now our family can’t even visit without being executed. Many Jews have convinced themselves that we’ve assimilated, that were just like everyone else, that were safe. But we’re not safe. We are a people who have been persecuted and expelled and massacred for over two thousand years, it’s not going to suddenly stop now. And now that the people who are supposed to be fighting to keep us safe have started killing us, we have nobody but each other

I don’t think everyone should pack up and leave their countries right now. But I do think you should have a suitcase ready

[prouddogboi]

Stray dog (Part 1)

To find the most recent chapters, please go to @doggoboigaugau 's masterlist

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Summary: Male Reader is traumatized and forcefully refuses affection from Ghost and Soap even in his sleep.

Word count: 1852

Warnings: It's my first time posting my writing on Tumblr. There are so few CODxM!Reader fics I just want to contribute lmao TToTT. The warning is it can be shit because I'm new.

It was a successful mission. A tough one, yes, many soldiers got serious injuries and had to spend days in the hospital, but still, the mission was accomplished with minimal loss. The people at the base decided to throw a party at a well-known bar in the area. As usual, you stayed close to your team, until they left you all alone again for whatever they were up to: Ghost and Soap went into the dark corridor doing ‘secret’ business except for the fact that everyone knew what that business was; Price meeting up with the Captains of other teams, talking about the ‘kids’ in their care like the good ol’ tired dads and moms they all were; Gaz hitting up on some pretty guy or girl; and Roach just immersing himself in the music on the dance floor. 

“The usual shot?” The bartender smiled at you. He was an ordinary-looking guy, not too tall, not too short, but he was always nice to you.

“Yeah.” You replied, eyes looking down at the empty glass in your scarred hand. Your usual shot was one of the heaviest types served at this bar, you found its bitter, stinging taste and the dizziness it brought about worked wonders for you, helping to repress the strong emotions that always came up to the surface to trouble you whenever you were off the field, whenever you were not having to fight between life and death. Free time and a mind that was offered the opportunity to relax were not something you felt grateful for. Instead, you loved being constantly stimulated when being in battles, since it left your mind no time to overthink unnecessary things other than trying to keep yourselves and your teammates alive.

“A successful mission, huh? Everyone is enjoying themselves a lot tonight.” The bartender said, clearly trying to keep talking to you as he was preparing your drink.

“It was.”

“Did you get injured?” 

“Just some scratches, nothing serious.”

“You seem to do your job very well.”

You did. You were a good soldier. An excellent one even. You were showered with praise from the Captain, the teammates, the higher-ups… just anyone after almost every mission. Even Ghost himself had to admit that you were a good one. However, you didn’t know for sure what made you excel while most others didn’t. Maybe it was because every mission you paid no mind as to whether you would be alive or not. It was true that everyone in this line of work had to come to terms with the notion of death upon themselves, no one could be sure how many days they got left on this planet doing this kind of job, but you were still different. You weren’t actively trying to get yourselves in situations that would get you killed, because it often meant a great threat to your teammates too, but you were not one that would hold on to life that much. You were always ready to sacrifice.

“I notice that you’re always alone. Well, the others do join you, but after a while, they leave and you’re still here.” The bartender passed you the shot.

“They have things to do.”

“Why don’t you? Getting out there and having some fun.”

Fun? It did not sound fitting to who you were. “Thanks for the suggestion, but I prefer it this way.”

“By the way, can I ask for a guy’s number? The one with the mohawk.”

“You mean Soap?” You left out a soft chuckle, “Give up, mate. He already has a partner. A scary one.” 

“Who?”

“The fuckin’ huge one with the skull mask. I’m sure you know well who he is and how scary he is.”

“What? That guy? I’ve always thought he’s into you though.”

This time you laughed out loud. The thought of someone interested in you was just so ridiculous, it felt surreal and impossible, “Ain’t no way, why would you think that?”

“He always looks at you with those piercing eyes, as if he will eat you up in no time.”

“Probably it’s because the Soap guy is always leaning over me. He’s so mad that I dare to get that near to his precious partner that he just wants to end my life right here.” You drank up the whole glass in one breath, then smashed the now empty glass on the bar, resulting in a huge ‘thump’ sound, mainly due to the fact that it was your fist that came into contact with the wooden material. It sent a burning feeling to your skin and fresh, but it was nothing compared to the physical pain you had to endure in battles or the mental one off field, when your mind was free to drift away. 

“Could be. But I still think he is into you.” The bartender shrugged, knowing you so well that he went ahead to prepare another shot for you. Nights like this often led to you drinking non-stop until you were so drunk that you’d pass out, and that masked guy was the one who carried you back. That was another reason besides the intense glare that made him convinced that the guy was attracted to you. Well, the hot man with the mohawk was always there too, but he usually waited in distance and smiled at how the masked guy having trouble carrying you as you thrashed around in his arms, clearly too drunk to know that he was just helping you. But the bartender only thought that the mohawk and the masked guy were close friends. Now that you mentioned it, it was indeed possible that they were in love with each other. 

Wouldn’t that make a love triangle though? The bartender threw a glance at you, studying you with amusement. Everyone loved some drama in their mundane lives. You were a handsome boy with sharp facial features, those damn bright eyes that lit up the whole place when you genuinely smiled, and all those strong muscles. He would’ve asked for your number instead if that scary big masked man wasn’t into you that much.

A few hours passed and the party came to its near end. All those smiling and laughing soldiers slowly hopped on the vehicles, making their way back to the base, clearly not wanting to wake up a mess the day after. They still had training as usual after all. One didn’t seem to care though. You collapsed on the bar, your handsome face grew red with how drunk you were and how much alcohol your body had absorbed. Ghost and Soap assured Price that they would bring you back safe before the tired dad of your Task Force got in the car with Gaz and Roach. They didn’t usually drink too much when they were off base, but you were quite the opposite. The team had no idea why you would pour so much alcohol into your mouth and stomach on these occasions, it was like you were grieving over something rather than celebrating the good news of a successful mission. Everyone in this line of work had their own past and troubles, but there was indeed something different in your troubles as they never felt that you were comfortable to open up. Soap even joked a lot about how much harder it was to get closer to you than Ghost. It was true that you were always smiling, chatting, and gossiping with him and Gaz and Roach over stupid things, but there was this invisible wall that you had built around your heart, unwilling to let anyone in. 

Ghost and Soap got to the bar where you were lying. 

“Come to get him?” The bartender was cleaning all the glasses that you and some other regulars used.

Ghost looked at you as your eyes were tightly shut, clearly not happy with your current condition, “Maybe next time don’t let him drink too much.”

The bartender raised his hands, “C’mon, I’m just serving my customers. He appears to need those shots to handle whatever emotions he’s having.”

Ghost and Soap turned their head to look at each other for a few seconds before Ghost stepped up and got you off the bar. You were too drunk to know anything, but surprisingly tonight you were very silent and cooperated well with your Lieutenant. 

“Let’s take you back to your room, huh?” Ghost was content with this sudden change and Soap just casually used his strong hand to rub your neatly cut hair. 

As Soap parked the car in the base's park, Ghost threw one of your arms over his shoulder and carried you off the vehicle. However, your tightly shut eyes suddenly opened, they widened as you turned your head left and right to make sense of your surroundings. 

“You’re up early.” Soap said jokingly.

“He’s too drunk to understand your stupid sarcasm, Soap.” Ghost scoffed. 

However, it took both men aback when they heard you sobbing. Soap was quick to cup your face with his palms, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, sobbing almost uncontrollably, trying to get your face out of his grip. One of Ghost’s arms went to your waist in an attempt to hold you in place and calm you down, but you started to act the usual way when you were drunk: thrashing around hysterically, as if you were striving so hard to escape from something inescapable. 

“Let go of me!” You screamed.

“Y/n, calm down, calm down! It’s us! Ghost and Soap!” Soap tried to talk some sense into the heavily drunk you.

“Stay away from me!” You didn’t seem to listen. Feeling Ghost’s grip was still firm around your body, you got more and more violent. Screaming and kicking, you definitely hurt him in the process as you finally succeeded in getting away. You stumbled a few steps on the cold cement ground before you collapsed on it due to the perfect dizziness that you hoped the shots at the bar would gift you. You curled into a ball, trembling violently yet not from how cold the ground was. Shuddering sobs still escaped your lips, and your eyes were tightly shut again. Price and Gaz hurriedly ran to where you three were, their eyes filled with worry given how loud and heartfelt your screams were (Roach didn’t come with them because he also drank too much). The two men saw Ghost and Soap standing beside you, their arms were hanging in the air as if they were holding on to something, while you were there, laying on the ground sobbing and mumbling unintelligible words. 

Luckily you quickly fell asleep again, still sobbing but unconscious enough for the men to carry you back to your room. They tucked you nicely into your bed, watching over your now peaceful sleeping face. Soap wiped the tears left on your cheeks with his hand, his mind questioning the reasons why you reacted so fiercely to them taking care of you earlier. When you finally stopped sobbing, they carefully left your room. There were things to be discussed, but they could wait.

to be continued bc I have class tmr and I need to sleep :D

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 2: you get me closer to god.

Summary: John is a manipulator, and she, is the new subject of his obsession.

Warnings: this chapter contains stalking, mentions of large age gap, graphic descriptions of violence, and manipulation.

read the warnings. john is not only a menace, he is evilllll.

Author’s note: and we are back, baby. today, in this chapter, you are going to be witnessing a LOT of fucked up shit from none other than john wick himself. my man’s been doing a lot, god bless his poor soul.

also may i remind you all that the reader here is naive! she is stupid! she is not the brightest! she’s just desperate for attention and affection, so her decisions are always stupid and all of that. (please do not hate her, she is trying her best.)

this took me a while to write because it’s long asf and also because you know me, i always struggle with the english language, but i hope i won’t disappoint you with this chapter!

thank you so much for waiting and continuing to support this fic! really, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and i really appreciate all your sweet comments and reblogs on my last post.

i hope you also enjoy this new chapter since we’re going to have another peak of what goes on in john’s dark, dark mind. (I PROMISE THE SEX SCENE WOULD BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.)

and again, this is not edited so all mistakes are on me! i really do apologize, english is not my first language.

Word count: 10.6k

also read on AO3

In this business, you’d see different kinds of reactions when a man walks into a room.

They all see themselves above everybody else. They think they’re better, deadlier, smarter. That’s the kind of mindset you need if you want to survive. How will you get out of being held at gunpoint when you’re a weakling?

When a man walks into a room, they’ll take a moment to stare.

On the outside, you’d think these people have a lot of respect for one another since they all work in the same circle anyway. But in real life, you’d see the blatant lack of respect these people truly have for each other, because they’ll stare and judge.

When John walks into a room, it’s a different story.

Fear.

John is not like any other man in business they think they could just judge and get away with it, no. John is well respected and feared. He could see it in their eyes when he pass by. The extreme discomfort and alarm to be in the same presence as him. Even if they try so hard to hide it, John sees right through them.

They view him as… something but human. He’s a killing machine. An attack dog. A monster, some would even say. 

Back in the days, John wasn’t exactly fond of the names they’ve been giving him. When he was still new in the game, he didn’t like how he struck fear over these people because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power he truly has over them.

But now, something has shifted.

John is a free man. Not the kind of free when he was with Helen, but free nonetheless. Free because instead of getting alarmed with the fact that he’s feared all over this underworld, he’s taking advantage of it. Much to the higher ups dismay. They have been having a very hard time keeping up with his recent activities.

Growing up, it seemed like John got the worst sadistic discipline in Ruska Roma.

All of them did, don’t get him wrong. All of them suffered – blood, sweat and tears. They were all forced to go through extreme discipline, because it’s the crack of the whip that gets the rats going.

But John… John got the worst of it.

He used to take the fall for his fellow students. Fingers couldn’t count just how many times he was belted on the back for someone else’s mistake. The amount of times he was starved, denied of any kind of food or water, and that’s how it’s always been.

John has always been denied for the things he wanted. The things he needed.

Now, he is not greedy. He’s not just going to take everything in his way like a kid that got away from its parents’ grip, because he doesn’t want a lot of things. John already has a house, a dog companion, enough money to last forever.

John already has everything except her.

His most happy moments couldn’t compete with the hot curl within his guts that he feels every time his mind flashes back to that night. That night when she gave in, when she gave herself away to him – willingly. 

John didn’t need to give her a little push to finally get her. She practically offered herself to him, bared her neck and John’s itching to take a bite. To finally make her his once and for all, but really, he doesn’t need to do that to know that she’s his. 

Like he said, he’s not going to force himself into her life. He’s going to be welcomed. By the looks of it, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do after all. Not when she’s already giving up information about herself to John through texts – she’s practically making it easy for him to get her.

So naive. Doesn’t got a fucking clue in the world.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine –

John looks at his phone, reading the messages both of them sent each other the night before, and there it is again. The itch in his hands, the need to possess.

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

John changed her name on his phone. He changed it to something more… intimate. More sweet. 

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : I could never.

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : You’re hard to forget.

He remembers – no, saw – how she responded. With a smile on her face, hopeful.

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : using my words against me, i see :D 

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : good to know you’re still as slick as the last time we chatted haha

13.06.15 11:49 PM

John : Hard not to. I wanted to impress you.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : you already did.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : with all your brooding and intimidating look. just my type ;D 

John smiles to himself as he reads the message. He remembers the look on her face when she’s typing, and hasn't got a clue that the man she’s flirting with was observing her just from across her building. John wouldn’t call it invading her privacy, he calls it keeping her safe.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : anywho i asked for your number for a reason. i really do want to talk to you again. not just in chat, i mean, but also in real life :) 

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : maybe we could get to know each other more? what do you say??? meet up again, but this time planned unlike our other previous meetups?? haha

He is not a teenager to be feeling this giddy over reading messages, but she truly brings out something shameful in him.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

John : I should be the one asking you that.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : you were taking too looonggg :( 

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : so what do ya think?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : Of course I’ll go. I told you I’d make time for you, didn’t I?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : I’m a man of my word.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

Bambi : ok that’s great! i was so worried you wouldn’t say yes.

John had averted his eyes from the phone that night and onto the little lady across the building. She was rolling around on her bed, still dressed in her pink, fluffy robe and her hair was still wet. She looks like a puppy that John wanted to pet; stroke her hair and tell her she’s his good girl.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : When do you want to meet? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : aahhhhh let’s see

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : i have classes tomorrow morning BUTTT we can def meet up during lunch! i get out of school at like 12 and go to work at 3 :D

I know, John wanted to say. I’ve memorized your everyday schedule in the span of two days.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : How about I pick you up from your school, we grab lunch, and I drop you off to work?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : Or is it too soon? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : oh my god no way REALLY?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : nooo it’s not too soon don’t worry! you def could so we have more time to talk and everything! i just hope i won’t be bothering you or anything.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : do you have work tomorrow? you look like a 9 to 5 kinda guy :P 

God, she’s fucking adorable. 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

John : I don’t, so you don’t have to worry. I’d love to talk to you more as well.

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : ok! i cannot wait for tomorrow. i should probably sleep now tho so i wouldn’t look shitty when you see me :D 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : here is the address of my school. [Address]

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : can’t wait to see you tomorrow, john! goodnight, see you soon! x

13.06.15 11:55 PM

John : Goodnight, sweet girl. Have a good sleep.

John hadn’t meant to type that. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, terrified that he somehow scared her away with the sudden affection. But then he saw her read his message, dropped her phone on the bed, and then rolled over again like a lap dog.

She’s too easy to tame, so gullible. John almost couldn’t believe how fast she folded, how desperate she really is. But then again, he could say the same about himself. Lonely and desperate, they were meant to be together. He likes to believe God had put them in this position because of fate, because he has a plan for every single one of us.

John’s never been the one to believe in Him, but he finds himself grasping to that very little delusion that keeps him from going insane.

*

11:55 AM, the students are already making their way out of their designated buildings. 

John is keeping his guard on high alert, eyes scanning the crowd to find her. He’s parked just across the school gate, leaning against his car as he checks the time on his wrist. He’s also holding his phone in the other, waiting for it to vibrate in case she drops a message.

He’s never felt this giddy before. Hands clammy and eyes searching frantically, excited because he’s finally getting to spend alone time with her, but also worried in fear of losing her in the crowd. John doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have the upper hand. When he doesn’t have control of the situation. When she’s not in his line of vision and could be doing god knows what without his supervision.

He checks his phone again. 11:58, where is she?

John knows at this time, she should be out and about already, waiting for a cab to her apartment. His fingers itch, hovering over the screen of his phone. He begins contemplating if he should send a message, but that would make him look demanding and clingy. He doesn’t want to leave that kind of impression on her, or otherwise he’d have no choice but to abduct her and keep her locked away if she thinks about running –

He blinks, sucking in deep breath. 

“Shit,” he whispers, looking up to the school gate again. This isn’t good. What the fuck was he even thinking? 

John tries not to think about it. Tries to convince himself that he is not as fucked up as his mind is making him out to be. He wouldn’t stoop that low, he’s not that cruel –

Are you not?

A certain someone appears in the crowd, standing outside the school gate, already spotting John and waving at him from across the road. Her face is bright, smiling wide. John never wanted to possess something so bad.

He waves back, all his dark thoughts suddenly gone, and everything is rainbows and sunshine. John watches as she crosses the road carefully, looking left and right, seeming small with the people around her. She looks like a lost puppy.

John wants to pet.

“John, hey!” she beams, running up to him to give him a hug which catches John off guard. She’s on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and John doesn’t want to make her upset for not immediately reacting with her affection, and so he puts his arm around her waist and bends down to place his chin on her shoulder. 

He fights the urge to bury his nose in her neck, then maybe sucks a few hickeys, leaving a bite mark to show that the big, bad wolf has already marked his mate.

She’s so fucking easy to get, John thinks.

When she pulls away from the hug, John tries not to look disappointed. Her cologne lingers in his nose. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You don’t ever need to say sorry for that,” John says, faux stern as he places a hand on her waist subtly. She looks like she doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing.

“Okay then,” she smiles politely. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I look like a mess. Just say the words and I would totally change to more appropriate clothes before we go somewhere.”

“You look beautiful,” John says smoothly, standing up straight. Even though she looks underdressed next to John who’s wearing a three-piece suit, she is still heart-wrenchingly beautiful. In fact, John likes the contrast.

“T-thanks.”

“Should we go?”

“Sure! I’m excited,” she giggles, the sound practically dancing in his ear. “I’m hungry. Where will we eat?”

“Hm, what do you like?” he asks.

“Dunno. Burger and milkshake.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“The only thing I can afford, unfortunately,” she jokes, though John doesn’t answer, only opening the car door for her. “We should eat in a diner. I know a good one! Also cheap, so you won’t have to worry about the price.”

“I never worry about the price, darling,” John murmurs, but still loud enough for her to hear as she gets inside the vehicle. He swiftly walks to the driver’s seat and starts the car, glancing at his little bambi who’s observing the interior intensely. “You like it?”

“It’s so cool. I’ve never been in a car like this.”

“You’re going to have a lot of firsts when you’re with me.”

As John starts driving, the girl beside him babbles. Not that he minds, of course. He listens and nods, so obsessed with her voice that he could listen to it forever. It’s amazing how John could easily hide the fact that he was just stalking her from across her apartment the night before in the back of his mind, like it never even happened. It’s amazing how he could act like he wasn’t just thinking about kidnapping her and locking her away from the public forever.

But then again, everything about his little bambi would make anyone risk it all for her.  It’s not just John. Anyone would do the same if they were in his shoes.

“How was school?” John asks, averting his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.

“Eh, it was alright. Classes always drain me, no wonder I’m so hungry now,” she answers politely. One of the few things John noticed about her. How she doesn’t run out of things to say, how she can get the conversation going. “How about you? You going to work after our lunch? You’re dressed up for it.”

“I took the day off today,” he replies vaguely.

“What? Why?”

“I have a date with you.”

She seems to be shocked by John’s choice of words, but she’s more concerned with the fact that John took the day off for her. “Y-yeah, but you didn’t have to do that. We could just go on a date next time.”

“The sooner, the better,” he explains, feeling another surge of something hot into his veins. She agreed that this is a date. Just how fucking gullible can she get? “Work is no problem for me. I want to get to know you more.”

“O-okay. I wanna get to know you more too.”

When John catches a glimpse of her bright smile beaming at him, his hands tighten around the wheel and he steps on the gas harder.

*

John doesn’t like how his mind isn’t making him remember about Helen.

He should be remembering her. He should feel some kind of guilt for being in a restaurant with another woman, but he doesn’t. Every single day since she died, his mind would always make him think about her. But now, it’s like John completely forgot about her existence at all.

The wedding ring on his finger is long gone. Ever since his unhealthy obsession began, he thought that wearing that while doing something so sinful felt so wrong. Helen shouldn’t have to witness all the things he had done in the name of a girl he had only met once that time.

The diner isn’t packed with people. The sizzling of the burgers grilling on the pan and the chatters seem to drown out eventually when his little bambi starts talking.

John gives her a small smile, barely there, just to show her that he’s listening, all his attention is on her.

“Time seems to pass by so fast, huh? I remember when I bumped into you the first time, I really thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she starts the conversation with a bang, but thankfully John’s prepared for this type of talk.

“So you really wanted to see me then?” he smirks slightly.

“Yeah! You’re really good looking and it’s not always I see a guy as handsome as you in my apartment complex and my school,” she says bluntly, though John could see the faint blush on her cheeks when she mentions the word ‘good looking.’ “So of course I had to take my chance when I met you again at that club! God, you were my knight in shining armor. I would’ve been crushed to death if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s why you should always be careful on the road. You’re small, everyone could look past you if you weren’t careful enough.”

She pouts, placing her chin on her hand as she stares lovingly at John. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not small. You’re just saying that because you’re too big. And I’m always careful on the road – it was only that time that I lost balance and almost fell.”

“Then it better not happen again,” John says sharply, leaning back against the cushioned seat as he stares back at her challengingly. “But there’s no need to worry for the next time. I won’t let that happen again.”

“Next time?” she teases. “So you want to see me again next time, then?”

“Have I not made it clear with my actions and words?” John shoots back, raising another eyebrow. She likes it when he’s being stern like this. All authoritative. She might not know it yet, but her body language speaks for itself. “Do you want to see me again?”

The little bambi smiles brightly, and It hurts. It hurts John to see that smile because she’s just like the sun. But no matter how much she shines, John would do anything just to touch. Just to possess. Just to break.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have gotten your number if I didn’t, right?”

“Good.”

It’s not like she could do much anyways if she says no. Nothing will ever stop John from seeing her again, no matter how bad the procedure would be.

The food then arrives and is served on the table, and John thinks he has never felt anything like this before.

His hands have never felt this itchy before. That desperate, longing feeling to just possess the very thing that’s placed right in front of you. Everything about her is just so captivating, staring up at John like he’s the one who hung the moon, so full of adoration and hope.

Seems like John isn’t the only desperate one between the two of them. He could see it in her eyes. She’s practically begging him to take care of her.

And really, he can’t blame her.

An absent mother and an alcoholic father. No wonder she’s seeking attention from a man like John. A man old enough to be her father – if not older than her own father. John would be more than willing to fulfill the role her father failed to be when she was young. He’d do anything to protect her, morals be damned.

She looks too good to be true sitting right in front of him and he didn’t think watching someone devour a burger twice as big as her face would be so endearing. The way she licks her lips, the way her eyes sparkle every time John would pay attention to the little things she’d absentmindedly insert in her stories. No one must’ve given her this kind of attention before. No one but John.

“Oh, before I forget!” She places a hand on John’s arm that’s perched on the table. A mere innocent touch, yet he can’t help but feel a little giddy on the inside. “We’ve been talking for like, an hour now, and I still haven’t asked what your job is. I’ve been really curious ever since you told me you took a day off just for this. Are you like the boss or something?”

Ah. Of course.

A question like this is inevitable, thank god John came prepared. 

“No,” he simply says. “I’m a book binder. I collect and restore books as both a hobby and job.”

“Wow,” she nods her head, now interested as she leans forward and closer to him. She smells so sweet, John feels like he’s snorting sugar. “I didn’t think book binding could earn you so much money. Considering you’re dressed pretty… comfortably. And you have a nice car.”

“It pays enough,” John replies. Sooner or later she’d find out what he really does for a living, and no doubt she’d be scared. John already has a plan of action for when that would happen, but for now, he’ll try to keep it a secret as long as he can. “Pays enough to let me spoil you in the future. In fact, I think I might just start spoiling you now.”

“You say that to every woman you meet?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasing. 

“Just for you. You’re special.”

John sees the way she immediately turns shy and nervous from the statement. It must’ve felt overwhelming, having someone so much older and with more experience to hit on her like that. But John would say it brings a whole different feeling in him, like ego-lifting of some sort, knowing he just might be the only man that treated her right in her life.

Does killing one of her guy friends and storing him in his basement means treating her right? Does stalking her and watching her sleep from across the building is a way to treat her right? Different story to be told for another day.

“I believe you,” she says, smiling. 

Of course you do.

John diverts her attention from him. “You’re a veterinary student and also part time in a veterinary clinic. What made you want to pursue it?”

“Uh, let’s see. I don’t really have like, a very logical reason for it. I just really love animals and I want them to be part of my job as well,” she shrugs. “As for the part time thing, one of my older friends works there and got me in to gain some experience. I don’t really do much, I help with the paperworks and watch how they do stuff around there.”

I know.

“Your unconditional love for animals is logical enough.”

“I know right. Best job in the world, I might add. I get to pet all kinds of different animals everyday, and mind you I’m not even a real doctor yet,” she giggles, then tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you have a pet, John?”

“I do. I have a dog,” he answers, taking a sip of his own milkshake. It’s sweet, it’s something he’s not used to, but it reminds him of her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t named her yet.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how to. I’m not good with names,” John shrugs. This conversation with her alone just might be the longest conversation he’s ever shared with someone ever since Helen died. And even with his late wife, he wasn’t as talkative as this. “Maybe you could name her. She’s a large pitbull but surprisingly very gentle for her size.”

“Oh my god, John, I have to meet her!” She beams. “Maybe on our next date, don’t you think? Let’s bring her with us to the park, have a little picnic there or something.”

Next date.

She wants to go on another date with him and she is making this a lot easier for John.

His lips stretch into a rare smile, fingers twitching subtly around the glass as he stares right into her eyes. There’s no hidden intention behind them, just pure adoration with a twinge of hope. Probably hopes that John wants the same thing as her, but he wouldn’t let her know that she is in for a lot more than she bargained for.

“I can’t wait for our next one.”

*

John could still remember the little things that made him feel human. 

Back in the Marines, when he first killed somebody, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and self-hating that he couldn’t sleep for a week. He’d have nightmares of it; of holding his gun up to somebody’s head and blowing it up with just one single movement. The residue of the flesh splattered all over his face, some of them even went to his mouth. His hands shaked but he didn’t let his crew see it. In their eyes, that wasn’t the first time he had done it.

When he was recruited by Viggo and his little minions, the guilt of killing people was still there, but barely. He used to wish he didn’t feel any guilt or remorse at all every time he pulled a trigger, but looking back at it now, he wishes he could just take it all back. It was only guilt that he felt most of his life, but it made John human.

Now, he doesn’t feel very human as he stands in the middle of an abattoir holding a machete with pints of blood pooling at his shoes.

Back then, he used to kill. Point, shoot, leave. A very short routine he told himself to stick with unless he wanted to get in trouble. But now, he is not only just killing. John is fucking slaughtering people.

His eyes land on the dead body hanging from the meat hook. Naked, gutted alive just a few moments ago. His stomach is sliced open with his own intestines wrapped around his neck, and it fucking stinks.

The raw stench of human blood mixing with the already reeking smell of the slaughtered pigs hanging just besides the one John had slaughtered himself. 

Really, John should feel even just a little amount of remorse or disgust. His client didn’t particularly gave him a specific order on how to fucking kill the target, John did it himself. He didn’t know what the fuck was he thinking when he was doing the wet work, all he knows is that he’s getting worse each day that passes.

The killing part took some time considering the man certainly put up a fight. He was smuggling drugs inside the pigs he was slaughtering. It works on people too, though it’s too risky. Dying with balloons of cocaine up your throat or ass isn’t exactly the way you’d want to die, nor the kind of state you want your body to be in.

John really didn’t mean to go this far, but all the pent up anger and frustration led him to do something so ugly. He feels like a ticking bomb. Every second a little part of humanity just starts fading away, who knows what would happen if all of it were gone. 

This is his first kill since his date with his bambi. That was five days ago. John decided to take another job while he’s waiting for her next decision. He doesn’t want to look clingy and creepy by constantly texting her every chance he gets, so he lets her do it in her own phase. Though, waiting for her texts sure did take a lot of rampant rage on John’s side. Lots of broken furniture and a creepy amount of hours watching her sleep from across the building. 

Just because John is letting her do her own thing for the meantime, doesn’t mean he gets to take his eyes off of her. It’s for the best. 

Their last conversation was yesterday. It was a pretty long conversation, but not long enough for John’s satisfaction. She left it off by saying she’s going to be busy studying for her test and cleaning her apartment, which John didn’t have the time to check if she was telling the truth since he was busy himself.

John is dying to see her again but he knows he’s gonna have to wait it out in the Continental. Or maybe if he’s feeling a little bit insane, he’d ditch having to rest and spend his time sitting on a dusty chair in the same dusty room he’s been staying in for awhile; the building across from her apartment. But until then he’ll have to see where time will take him.

His phone ringing in his jacket is what snaps him from his thoughts. Bringing a bloodied hand to get it, he almost couldn’t press the screen by the slippery liquid covering his fingers. John presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to speak.

“Hey, boss. How’s Russia treating you so far? Hopefully not great ‘cause I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.” The deep voice of Alex echoes in the abattoir. It must’ve slipped John’s mind that he had sent Alex again to tail her again while he’s out overseas.

He furrows his brows, curious. “How is she?”

“Hm, let’s see here. Your little pet has been up and about all day with her little friends after they’ve finally noticed the disappearance of that little shit we took care of a while back – speaking of which, how is he by the way?”

“Rotting. Dissolving in my basement,” John replies, hands tightening around the handle of the machete. So this is what she’s been doing and the reason why she hasn’t messaged him all day. “I say the fucker got what he deserved. He’s a creep who preys on women to rape, I’m just thankful we got him out of the way before he got to her.”

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t know that and I doubt she’d even stop looking for her creepy friend unless they’ve found him. What do you want me to do?”

“Give it a day or two. Wait for me to get back and I’ll take it from there.”

“Anything else?” John hears loud chattering in the background, he furrows his brows.

“Yeah. Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, keeping her in my sight like you told me to?” Alex sounds particularly sassy. John doesn’t know if he should be pleased or not. “She’s at a restaurant. I think she’s having a meeting with her other friends or something – she looks upset.”

“Upset because of her missing friend, I assume.”

“Probably. Have you talked to her at all today, boss? Pretty sure I have not yet seen her pick up her phone all day.”

“No,” John simply says. “But she will. I’m sure of it.”

“I see you’ve finally gotten her dependent on you now.”

“Not enough, apparently, since she’s gone a full day without talking to me.”

“Well, you’re definitely getting there,” Alex says under his breath. “I’m going now, boss. They’re leaving to god knows where.”

John doesn’t say anything else, only ending the call and pocketing back his phone. He looks around the area, the coppery smell of blood is stronger than before. He is the reason why it stinks in here, the reason why there’s so much blood and brutality. The body that hangs right in front of him is lifelessly staring with dead, cold eyes. John resists the urge to shove a balloon of fucking cocaine into his stomach, the same thing he’s been doing with these pigs, brutalize him more if that’s even possible, but he knows it wouldn’t help his already worsening mentality.

The thought of someone seeing this body and thinking about how fucked up the person who did this doesn’t concern him as much as it should. 

Instead, John turns his heels and walks away from the scene. 

*

Unsurprisingly, getting her to depend on John isn’t the hardest task to do.

It just might be the easiest.

The moment John arrives at the Continental, he takes his time to message his bambi. It’s only reasonable, he wouldn’t come out as a clingy creep since it’s been a full day since his last message, he has every right to know what and how she’s doing despite already getting enough pictures and updates from Alex.

He asks her how she’s been, waits for approximately ten minutes before he finally gets a reply. In those ten minutes, John takes his time scrolling through the pictures Alex had sent him. Pictures of her bundled up in large, colorful sweaters and wearing a frown on her pretty face. She looks rough, but she makes looking rough look good.

Bambi : hi, john :(( sorry i didn’t text you all day. was busy with something 

John : That’s alright, I understand. I’m just glad you replied. Did something come up? Was it about school?

Bambi : kind of. my friend from school is missing and we don’t know where he is. we’re worried because he hasn’t answered any of our calls for a week and his apartment is practically empty.

Reading that almost makes him resist an urge to sickly smile to himself. His fingers hover the screen, careful of what his next words might be. 

John : I’m sorry to hear that. Have you gotten any updates from the police? What did they say?

Bambi : nothing yet unfortunately. no one saw him the night he went missing :( 

John : I’m sure you’ll find him soon enough. I hope nothing extremely bad happened to your friend.

He sounds… manipulating. There aren’t any more words that could describe what John is doing to her. He doesn’t even know if he can still make up excuses to tell himself that everything is completely fine and normal.

The girl that he likes is currently sharing about the horrifying tragedy her ‘friend’ is facing, the horrifying tragedy being John’s fault, and he’s fucking lying about it. And what truly terrifies him the most is not about the fact that he’s manipulating her, he’s terrified because it feels normal and just… fine.

Normal, normal, normal–

Can John really win her over by going this path? If not, would it really matter?

He will still have the upper hand if this doesn’t end well. But then again, there’s a very small chance that it wouldn’t – if not none at all. John just needs to play his cards well and there wouldn’t be a problem. 

Bambi : thank you john. really hope that too. it doesn’t feel the same without him

John’s jaw ticks.

What do you mean it doesn’t feel the same without that fucker? I killed him for you! He was a creep who only wanted to fuck you and take you away from me and–

A dangerous feeling suddenly surge into his veins that he wants to put back together all the pieces of that fucker just to destroy it in his hands once again.

Maybe mutilating him and dissolving him in pure acid just isn’t enough. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe John should’ve took his fucking time torturing that little shit instead of killing him instantly.

John : And how are you? I hope you’re not too worried about this matter that you start to forget about taking care of yourself.

Bambi : i’m doing fine, but a bit sad bc of it. i also miss you and i wish u’re here so i wouldn’t be too sad

And just like that, it’s like all his resentment and rage just one minute prior vanished in a snap of a finger. A small smile makes its way to his face and a surge of ego soars into his chest. She has no idea she’s got a dangerous assassin wrapped around her finger and the consequences it’d bring her.

Bambi : are u still overseas? when will you be back?

John : Tomorrow, hopefully.

John : And I miss you too, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I finish work.

Bambi : can’t wait to see you. do u want me to pick u up at the airport? :D

John : Thank you, baby, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to keep you busy when you already have too much in your hands.

Bambi : mkay. but call me or text me when u arrive, ok?

John : Of course.

*

John is not stupid.

If he ever noticed a man following his every step, he didn’t once care or say a word.

It’s one of Winston’s men, obviously, following him around throughout his business in Russia up to boarding the same plane as him back to New York. Considering John had managed to catch on pretty quickly at the fact that Winston sent someone to trail him, this poor guy is not doing a particularly good job.

At first, John thought about taking care of the guy himself and bringing Winston a souvenir of his dog’s fingers or even one of his eyeballs, but decided that he is not that cruel.

He could be, but knowing he holds all the power over several people under The Table makes John wants to play the game a little longer and just fucking shiver in excitement.

Obviously Winston had noticed that John is up to no good. Not that it’s any of his business, he’s more likely just scared for his own life. He’s probably thinking it was a bad idea to bring John back into the game now that he’s living up to the horrors of his reputation and giving people exactly what they wanted.

When John first returned to the field, it was only to avenge his late wife and nothing more. But now that a bigger monster has grown within him over the course of his stay, he’s now also looking for the fuel to his fire.

And boy did he find it.

The fuel being in the form of a young woman who’s unaware of how much power she has over John. It’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. 

*

10:56 PM.

“Hello.”

“Hello? John?”

“It’s me, darling. How are you?”

“Doing fine. Studying for my exam and all. Why are you calling at this hour, though?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I just arrived back in New York and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, John, it’s so late. I was thinking earlier that you would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, you didn’t tell me you boarded a flight.”

“I wanted to be back as soon as possible and wanted to surprise you, but my flight got delayed so I only just arrived now.”

A soft laugh rings in his ear.

“You’re so cheeky. We can just meet up tomorrow if you’d like, go on a picnic at a park or something. I really, really wanna meet your dog.”

John hears a sigh, then the sound of paper rustling in the background. He counts – one, two, three – here it comes.

“I miss you, John.”

He pushes the curtain aside with two fingers, peering his eyes in the small opening as he watches the figure at the other side of the building. She’s sitting on her study desk in front of a laptop, freshly showered and wearing specs that John can’t help his heart to ache.

It’s been so long.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away.”

“That’s very sweet. I hope you brought souvenirs for me, though, or otherwise I will be very sad.”

“How can I forget? I bought everything that reminded me of you when I was there.”

“Now you’re just spoiling me.” Another laugh, then John sees her getting up from the chair and laying on the bed. “I’m happy that I’d get to see you again tomorrow, John. Everything that’s been happening is just so… I don’t know. Stressful, I guess. From my friend missing and school work, I don’t even know where to start. I just wanna be with you again.”

The mention of her friend Jay ticks him the wrong way, but he can’t also help but notice the longing and desperation laced in her voice as she said the last part. John knows it wouldn’t be too hard for her to be dependent on him, he just didn’t expect it to be this easy. They’ve only met once in real life, but their constant texting and calling through the phone makes it up for it. 

“Don’t let yourself worry too much on matters that don’t concern you.”

Silence, then John watches her bite her nail anxiously. “What do you mean by that, John?”

He doesn’t particularly like the way his name just rolls off her tongue like that – like she’s his age, the same way Helen used to call him. He doesn’t want to be reminded of Helen when he’s with his little bambi, it just makes him feel even shittier with the situation. It sorta reminds John how much he truly changed when he lost Helen.

“Don’t worry about your friend too much. I know it’s hard that he’s missing, but don’t put him first before your own well being,” John advises, manipulation just dripping off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He doubts she would notice, though. “I’m sure the police got it covered by now. I’m more worried about you.”

John could still see her expression through the window despite being far away. She’s thinking about it, letting herself get swayed by his lies and persuasion. She’s too easy, she just doesn’t know it herself, but John does. And he’s going to take advantage of it as much as he can. 

He counts again – one, two, three – and she’s dropping her hand to the bed and sighing softly. There she is.

“Okay. You’re probably right, I worry too much.”

John doesn’t reply but gives a silent hum that indicates he’s agreeing. He sees her taking off her glasses and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly the itch in his hands is back.

There’s a voice nagging at the back of his head and asking him just what the fuck is he doing, that he should stop this madness before it gets out of hand, but would that really make a difference? Even if John did stop, he’d still continue to live with the fact that he was a monster who stalked a young woman out of sheer obsession. He’d already got her dependent on him, he’d already laid out the plan on how this would turn out, why is he suddenly questioning now?

He had done stuff that was worse than manipulating. He didn’t feel a single drop of empathy when he was slaughtering people and shooting them in the head, but why does he feel guilty manipulating her?

“John? Did you already fall asleep on me?”

Soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, then it’s followed by a soft giggle. John feels butterflies exploding in his stomach. 

“Sorry. I was just–”

“It’s okay, John, you can sleep. You’ve probably had a long day since you’ve been on a flight and everything. I’m going to sleep now too, we have a date tomorrow, remember? Don’t forget.” The faux strictness in her voice makes him smile, then he sees her smiling just as big through the window; giddy and excited. “Goodnight, John. It’s really nice talking to you again. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up first, smiling to herself before putting the phone back to her nightstand. She settles on the bed comfortably, tucking herself into her blanket, unaware of the fact that there’s a monster lurking on the other building, watching her every move like a hawk.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the old mirror on the dusty wall, dressed in black and predatory, reminiscent of the devil himself. 

Might as well live up to the name.

*

John is aware of how dead he looks in people’s eyes. He barely smiles, he’s always dressed in black, and he always has trouble showing emotions through his face. He makes sure that he gives off that aura that shows how much he dislikes everyone in the fucking room. How much he just wants to pull out his gun and shoot every single one of them in the head.

John despises the way they look at him. Like they pity him for losing his wife, for getting dragged back to the life he had already left. Though, he can’t really blame them, really. He used to pity himself too, even now for letting himself get even worse, but he wouldn’t really call it pity. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not pity.

The next day is interesting, to say the least.

He couldn’t get a minute of sleep the night before, the image of her sleeping so peacefully without a worry in the world bored into his mind. It’s extremely fascinating to him just how careless and… dumb she is. Dumb in a way that it’s benifiting John – the both of them, actually – and not in an offensive kind of way.

It was around two in the morning when he returned back to the hotel, managed to sleep for an hour or two before ripping off the blankets and had a drink the first thing in the morning. John didn’t bother taking a nap after that, just walking around the room making sure all is well and everything will be according to plan.

At 8 AM, she texted John a good morning and said it would be better for their date to be at 4 PM. John then replied that it was perfect, though he doubts he can wait that long.

12 PM, for a man as calm and collected as John, he sure as hell can’t fucking sit still in one place.

He’s paranoid. No amount of texts from his bambi is enough to keep him calm. The time is ticking too slowly for his liking and he has no other things to do in his free time. Except be paranoid.

John grabs his coat, kisses his dog goodbye and decides to stop by a grocery store to prepare for their date. He should at least make them both a sandwich and buy drinks, knowing that the little gesture would be enough to put a smile on her face.

1 PM, John comes back with shit ton of paper bags in his arms. He’s doing too much, he knows it, but too much is still better than not enough.

John goes to the kitchen to prepare. The orphanage taught him how to cook – well, not really. John taught himself how to cook, because if he’s not going to cook for himself and half of the kids back in Ruska, they’d all be dead with no survival instincts to save them from starvation. Being an assassin who could withstand any form of torture all while not knowing how to cook would be the greatest joke of the century. John’s not the one to be laughed out.

2 PM, everything is settled and in place, his little bambi texts him to let him know that she’s getting ready and cannot wait for their date. John then takes his time to get ready too.

3 PM, John is dressed in a nice white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket on top. He looks civilised, no one would know a damn thing that he’s one of the most feared men in the underworld who slaughters people for a living.

His dog is quiet in the corner, chewing on her bone toy until John puts a collar and leash around her neck. Her eyes perks up in excitement, already knowing they would go outside to play. John always takes his time making sure she gets to socialize with other dogs, whether it’s in a park or just down the street.

“You’re excited, baby?” John murmurs, petting her ears softly as he kneels down to her position. “You’re gonna meet someone special. Want you to be nice to her, alright? She’s gonna be your mom.”

John hauls everything into his car in a matter of minutes. The picnic basket, the blanket, his gifts for his little one that he got from Russia, also including his dog. She’s behaved yet excited as she peeks in the mirror watching her owner work.

He slides into the driver’s seat and locks his seatbelt, starting up the car and driving away from the hotel. Earlier, John had seen a couple of his co-workers loading up his trunk dressed like he’s going on a date – because he is – no doubt they’re snitching and would tell Winston. He couldn’t care less.

He arrives outside her apartment after thirty minutes, parking his car right by the entrance. He can’t help but grimace as he looks around the place. He remembers meeting her here, the day after he killed that good-for-nothing junkie. He wonders if she ever got the news, how she reacted when someone got killed the same day John was visiting her area.

It won’t be long before she wouldn’t be living in this area no more. It’s too dangerous, filled with a bunch of goons who get themselves tangled up in petty gang wars. John knows a gangster when he sees one, and it looks like every single man who lives in these crowded apartments are either pushers or gangsters with no sense of direction in life.

She doesn’t belong here. She should be in John’s house, locked up and isolated where she’s safe under his supervision. He would treat her like a princess, give her the things she deserve.

John gets out of the car, pulls out his phone and sends her a message to let her know he’s outside her building. He leans against the car as he waits.

A minute passes and a very happy bambi appears in the elevator, dressed in a pretty sundress and a white tote bag with a text John can’t see. She’s beaming up at him as she exits the building, and John hasn’t got the time to react before she’s lunging herself forward and going on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Whoa easy,” John murmurs, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist for support, placing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent; it’s sweet, not a surprise. “You miss me that much?”

“So much, you don’t even wanna know,” she murmurs in his chest, not quite reaching his neck despite being on her tiptoes. “I hope you miss me just as much.”

John pulls away, gives her a look as he places her large hands on her hips. “I might’ve missed you more than you missed me.”

She giggles, John could see her eyes through the heart-shaped sunglasses she’s wearing. It’s cute. “That’s not possible, I will fight you for it.”

“Hm,” John hums, eyes wandering down her lips to her dress. It stops just above her knees, John has to mentally prepare himself for the worst. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “You like it? I think it’s the perfect picnic outfit.”

“I love it,” John clarifies. “Looks perfect on you.”

“You look gorgeous yourself,” she giggles, eyeing John up and down teasingly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He isn’t so sure how to react to that, hopefully his dick wouldn’t take the liberty to rise from the dead at this moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen you not wearing any suits. Domestic looks good on you.”

“What can I say, I’m a changed man.” John means both good and bad. “And before we go, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Before she gets a chance to ask, John slides out of the way from his position of covering the car window and reveals a very happy pitbull waiting to be introduced to her mother.

Her smile is wide when she spots John’s pet excitedly wagging her tail inside the car. “Oh my god, she is beautiful! John, open the door, hurry, hurry, hurry–”

“Okay, okay–”

The moment John pulls the door open, the dog comes rushing out to jump and starts licking her face.

“Oh, lookie here, baby! You’re such a cutie! What’s your name, hm? Don’t got a name yet? Your dad can’t think of a name to give ya’?” 

Her giggles are like music to his ears.

The sound of paws pattering on the concrete and her high pitched voice talking to the dog fills the empty street in a matter of seconds. When she isn’t looking, John begins looking around the area, his eyes landing on the apartment building where he preys at some nights. 

There’s a person at the front desk, staring at him like he knows something, and like a switch that goes off in his brain, John recognizes this man as the same one who bumped into him a few nights ago in the hallway in front of the abandoned room where he’s staying.

They meet eyes, John flashes him a knowing look, then the man immediately looks away.

John’s jaw ticks. He’s gonna have to deal with that later.

He turns his attention back to where it’s most needed. She’s still playing with the dog, crouching beside the car while the puppy just drowns in her affection. John really hates to break the moment.

“Shall we get going?” He interjects, voice deeper than usual, still feeling a little on the edge from that man by the front desk earlier.

“Sure. She gonna be in the backseat?”

“You bet.”

John opens the door for the both of them and lets her help the puppy get inside. Before he slams the door close, he makes sure to take another look at the apartment, seeing the man already staring back at him.

Yeah. He’s really gonna have to deal with that later.

*

They arrive at the park around 4:25 and John is the one to set up their spot while she and the puppy play in the empty field. It’s empty, totally empty, and John couldn’t be more thankful than that since he really doesn’t want to be around other people besides her. She’s the only one that matters.

John notices that she brought her own dog toys, probably the ones she keeps to herself since she does work in a vet clinic after all. The sight of her happily running around the grass with his dog is enough to bring him to his knees, he is only but a man.

John calls her to eat and the two of them come running towards him and plops down on the soft blanket next to the basket full of fruits.

“Had fun?” John speaks, sitting beside her on the ground as he watches her get a plate of pasta for the two of them. She insists she gets to plate their food, John lets her.

“Very. Didn’t know she’s quite energetic, luckily for her I can match her energy extremely well.”

“It comes with being young, I guess. Can’t really relate,” he jokes, receiving the plate full of pasta she gives him while she snickers at the statement.

“Come on, John. You’re still fit despite being old.” John watches her take a bite of the food. He’s not subtle, he’s straight up staring at her lips as she wraps her mouth around the fork, savoring the flavor with closed eyes. “Hm, this is delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“By myself,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food to keep him from taking a bite of her instead. “I’m surprised you aren’t creeped out.”

“With what?”

“With my age,” John makes it clear. “You’re young with a bright future ahead of you–”

“Yet here I am having a date with an old man?” she interjects, wiggles her eyebrows, teasing clearly with the way she emphasizes the last part. “I can’t believe you thought I’m gonna get creeped out. You’re a grown man with a stable job and not to mention very hot, I find that very sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he raises a brow.

“Yes, I think you’re very sexy. I haven’t once encountered a guy my age who has the same status as you,” she sets down the plate on her lap for a moment. “You know, experienced and mature.”

“I see,” John nods. It’s very clear that she’s always found the people who contrast her so well attractive. She wants a savior that would save her from everything, luckily John fits in the description quite too well. 

They delve in a normal conversation after that. John makes sure to steer away all questions regarding him and his life, a way to learn more about her other than the pictures and videos and information he’d been sent by Alex.

John already knows a lot about her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more.

Ten minutes go by, a bottle of wine has been pulled out of the basket and she’s spilling her whole life to John in a matter of moments. From lttle memories from childhood to how she moved from her hometown to New York to get away from her father. How when she was younger, she begged her toys to talk to her and she wouldn’t tell anyone. How their family pet back in the days impacted the choices she made to choose her career path – to become a veterinarian.

John listens. He’s always been good at listening instead of talking, so he listens. 

5 PM, the two of them play with the dog and she decides to name her “Blue.”

“Is it because she has blue eyes?” John asks.

“Yeah. Not really original, I know, but it fits her.”

“Blue is perfect.”

It’s already 6 PM when they decide to head home. She’s still talking the moment they’re in the car and John is still listening. There’s something about her voice that just… pulls him in. It’s so sweet and soft.

When they arrive outside her apartment complex, it’s dead silent. 

“I really enjoyed our date today, John,” she smiles when he opens the door for her, now standing in front of him and looking up to meet his eyes. “The pasta was delicious. I hope I get to eat more of them in the future – and oh, I really, really enjoyed playing with Blue! I’m so thankful that you let me name her even though it wasn’t really special–”

“Hush,” John jokingly interrupts. “The night might be over, but I can assure you that I will see you soon again.”

“How soon would that be again?”

“Eager to see me already?”

“Maybe.”

“You know I always make time for you, sweetheart,” John croons, placing a large hand on her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Is it too early for me to kiss you?”

She laughs, then wraps her arms around his waist to pull him in closer. John looks at her and falls in love for what to be a millionth time today. She never fails to take his breath away. “Not too early, I promise you. You should’ve done that sooner.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it now.”

Before she can add another word, John leans down to smash his lips against hers, his large hand finding its way on the small of her back to deepen the kiss that she can’t help but whimper into his mouth.

Fuck.

Her lips are so, so soft. John can still taste the lingering sweetness of the wine from earlier and being so close to her that her scent is shutting off his entire brain. If he won’t stop, he might just end up fucking her on the hood of his car until she can’t walk straight.

Their lips move in tandem and she’s following his head like she always does. Her small hands are gripping his leather jacket for support, so pliant and vulnerable, already trusting him enough to kiss him on their second date. 

This is a sudden shift in his universe, John knows he’s already won.

He’s the first to pull away and their lips are wet and connected with saliva. She’s flushed and out of breath like expected, John wants nothing more but to break her and make her his.

Oh wait, she already is.

“How was that?” John asks, voice deep.

“I wanna do it again.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb on her cheeks while she’s busy avoiding his eyes. “Let’s save it for next time.”

He’s gonna control himself.

“That next time better come by fast,” she threatens jokingly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Don’t talk like you’re not gonna see me for days, baby,” John whispers. “You know I won’t let you go that easily. You’re mine now.”

He doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilated and the way the clutch she has on his leather jackets becomes tighter. She’s already fallen deep into his trap, John wants to push his claws in even deeper.

“Say it again,” she mutters, leaning in against his warm large hand as she closes her eyes. “Say it again. Please.”

John smiles when she isn’t looking. He really won.

“You’re mine.”

*

That same night, 4 AM, John is back in his work clothes and arranging something in a dark room.

The stench of metallic blood hitting his nose, and he stands in the middle of the room to inhale that scent – god, does he truly miss it.

The sight of a man in front of him wakes something dangerous within John’s veins. Hands tied up behind the chair, head dropped forward, lifeless and cold. His lower stomach is open, guts hanging off the floor as the other half is used to gag him in the mouth. His eyes are missing, John took the liberty to take them out for staring at him too much, and he couldn’t be any more relieved when he did.

“What do you know?” John had asked as soon as the man woke up from his head concussion.

“Y-You!” The man had yelled, John didn’t bother finding out his name. “You fucking creep –”

John’s hands twitched beside him. He remained silent.

The man went on a rant about how he’d seen John around lurking outside the apartment complex and using the abandoned room on the fifth floor and that’s all John needed to know.

He didn’t need another pair of eyes to tell him what’s right and wrong. Winston is already enough.

The next morning, John receives a text from none other than his bambi. A picture of numerous police cars outside her apartment and an ambulance, and another picture of a dead body covered in white blanket getting pulled out of the building.

Bambi : there was an accident that happened near me, john :(( 

Bambi : the police said somebody was killed and i’m scared

Bambi : they said he was gutted alive 

John is smiling to himself when he types his response.

John : What kind of a sick person would do something like that?

He is not a sick person. He’s just in love.

Taglist: aerangi starrgir1 heluvsvalefr danika1994 fraisejoon doggodorime ohmytate

[sun-stricken]

Gray & Erza Hcs

someone sent in an ask about their friendship and i accidentally deleted it but you know who u are, this is for you

these two have so much angst potential

* Gray purposefully take the route to and from his house that passes the river even though it takes longer, just on the off chance Erza might be there

* She holds so much guilt for sending him into avatar, but everytime she tries to apologize for it the words get stuck and she cant

* Grays probably the only person Erza has ever offered a slice of her cake to, if only bc she knows he doesnt like cake and made it her personally mission to find one he does

* They are so stubborn

* Gray: You’re one of my best friends, I would do anything for you. 
Erza: I want you to eat 3 meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. 
Gray: Absolutely not.

* Their friendship is the type where they can sit in silence for hours and be completely comfortable just knowing the other is there

* Erza loves her guild, but if Gray died, if he left fairy tail, she would genuinely consider leaving as well

* her big sister instincts will always kick in the fastest with him

* She has an internal alarm that sounds every time Grays in trouble even if shes no where near him.

* Sometimes she’ll wake up in a cold sweat and text him in a panic asking him whats wrong

* it freaked him out so many times but hes grown so used to it that he’ll message her as soon as smth happens to forstall the panic

* He was her first real friend in fairy tail, so she has a soft spot and a bias of sorts for him, shes more likely to take his sides on things than not

* thats not to say she turns a blind eye to his chronic dumbassery, no she still will fully call him out on his bullshit, but shes more likely to call others out before him

* In turn, Gray is the one who calls her out on her behavior, people will go out of their way to find him just so he can talk to her bc shes less likely to kill him if he calls her out than anyone else

* He called her a hypocrite once and everybody started to mentally plan his funeral, then was in awe since she actually stopped what she was doing and apologized

* He will fight for what she wants even if he doesn’t necessarily agree with it. He is the first to defend her

* Hes also the first to put her in her place, he has never seen her as the great godly ‘Titiana’, he sees her a ‘Erza’, a teenage girl

* And honestly? she probably appreciates thats more than being seen as a sort of invincible god the public sees her as

* Allegedly, their are the two most ‘mature’ and put together people of the team. its a lie. an act. theyre not. not at all. They are so chaotic, especially together. when nobodies around they can be so dumb together and they cause so many problems. but nobody would believe you if you told someone

* They have an insane amount of respect for one another, more than the kind for friends and guild mates

* Gray isn’t actually scared of her, he plays it up for shits n giggles but at the end of the day less scared than he is cautious, he knows she’ll put him in his place but he is by no means scared of her.

* She knows this and its like their own little secret

* They refuse to go to the doctor, therapy, or anything such as that unless the other gets checked out too

* They get each other weapons for their birthdays, each one is better than the last

* They see a lot of themselves in each other, perhaps thats why they are so protective of one another

* Neither of them are the type to fully let down their walls, theyve never really felt truly and completely at ease with any one person. But the closest its ever been has been with each other

* trying to get them to do smth actually good for their health is like getting happy to never eat fish again.

[pinkcherryblossom18]

Hiya! Can I request a Jason x vigilante!reader fic?

Basically they were friends, became Robin and Nightwing sidekick, shit happens reader gets kicked out; years later is a villain only to be a vigilante in the end

It’s just a rollercoaster of angst, platonic!friends to enemy to lovers, I love to suffer :’D 🔥

Me to your brain: Mwah, Mwah *kisses*

Summary: From growing up together on the streets to becoming sidekicks, you and Jason had been together since the beginning. But now, after his death, had you always been meant to go down this path, or had Jason's death pushed you farther down it? Now, years later, the big, bad Bat needs help from you and sends the one person that, despite everything, you just can't ignore.

TW: Homelessness, starvation, attempted robbery, death, blood, guns, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, insecurity, hurt no comfort, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, one small kiss, bittersweet ending, Bruce Wayne tries at being a good dad.

It’s cold, Gotham usually always is but it seems that tonight it’s worse than normal. You're shivering and beside you, Jason is as well. Neither of you have jackets, the older street kids had shucked you both of them then tossed you both to the side. Now, huddled together near a fire that Lenny had set and decided to let you two near, it’s tonight that you're sure you're going to freeze.

There have been many nights that you have been convinced of that but it’s tonight that you're dead sure that the freezing temperature of the cold and unforgiving city of Gotham is going to kill you both. Better together than apart, that had been something that the both of you had stuck to after his mother overdosed and yours up and left you on the side of the road. Better to suffer with someone than do so alone, admitting defeat by yourself would be self-pitying but doing so together could at least count as something higher than that. 

Jason leaves, going to go and find some dark corner to pee in and you stare at the cloudy night sky, hoping to at least spot the moon tonight but no such luck has found you. Though, luck seems to pass by people like you and Jason, both of you and every other Crime Alley resident born to die at the hands of the cold, the disease, and the unfavorables that walked the streets of the city. Those unfavorables were still doomed but they had turned to something worse in themselves, and had submitted to the desires that roamed through everyone in Crime Alley. 

Footsteps pounded against the asphalt and you looked in that direction, expecting to find that older group of kids from earlier running from the cops. You and Jason had been lucky so far that you two had avoided them, close calls the farthest you two had come to being caught thankfully. 

Jason comes around the corner, a big smile on his face and a kind of hope in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a while. He runs up to you and immediately grabs your hand, pulling you up and steadying you as much as he can when you stumble. The close fall doesn’t deter him though, pulling you along after him as he starts to run again but with you in his grip. “Come on, I found something,” he says excitedly. 

A grumble in your stomach sparks hope in your mind that it’s food, wouldn’t matter if it was moldy or not but with you both barely finding anything the last few days, it wouldn’t matter at the moment. “Food?” You ask hopefully, the loud accompanying grumble of your stomach agrees with your train of thought. 

Looking behind his shoulder at you, Jason shakes his head no and you feel hope slip away along with the painful feeling of your stomach deciding if it wants to eat itself or not. “Better. I promise come on.” He tugs on your arm again and it's at that moment that you realize that you had stopped moving. You sigh and go along with him again to only smash into his back when he stops before whirling around with Jason dragging you back into the direction of Lenny. “Oh, Len, can I borrow that tire iron?” He calls out to the old man. 

The old man shifts in his big and most likely stolen jacket. A frown is on his face, one is always on the man's face, like it's permanently stuck there no matter what. “What for kid?” The man grumbles, his naturally unhappy voice sounding grumpier than usual. 

Jason lets go of your hand and walks closer to Lenny, not getting too close in case the man feels like his unhappy attitude deserves an outlet. Placing his hands on his hips, a small laugh comes out of you when Jason starts sassing the man. “What would I use a tire iron for Lenny?” He asked.

The old man mumbles to himself, you can catch some of it, and each and every word has you stifling a laugh along with the shivers that the night is giving you. “Split half with me ungrateful,” Lenny spits out, handing Jason the tire iron. Jason grabs it and moves away quickly from the grouchy old man. 

Joining your side once more, Jason grabs your hand and starts pulling you with him once more. “Got it, Len!” He yells over his shoulder before you two go around the corner. 

A huff comes from your lips as Jason keeps tugging you along. “I’m sure if you keep tugging on my arm it’s going to fall off,” you tell him and a glare comes from you when you're sure that he rolled his eyes. He tugs again and you look around as you go, watching for anything that might be the cops or a camera you two can’t hide from. 

Whatever Jason found it’s far and you wonder how far he had gone to go pee but when you two stop. You’re ready to complain again but when you spot what he was so excited about, all complaints leave your throat. “Holy shit,” you said, not sure what else to say about the sight right in front of you. 

Right in front of your eyes is the ever-so-famous batmobile. You hadn’t seen it before but the talks of the older people on the street had you infuriated with it. Now with you seeing it with your own eyes, you can’t help but stare in amazement. It’s sleek and clean, it doesn’t belong in Crime Alley of all places but with the help of Jason’s hand directing your gaze to what he had seen, a laugh comes from you. 

You wouldn’t have taken Batman, the legend and haunter of the Gotham streets, to be so stupid to leave his unprotected rims in the cursed place of Park Row. 

Looking over at Jason, that smile from before got wider and you were sure that your own smile matched his. Then that smile fell and you looked around again, the wonder and amazement left you and the lessons that had been beaten in you had returned. “Right,” Jason says to your words, already heading to the car and the unprotected rims of the tires. 

You look around again, peering up at the roofs and the unseen shadows of the dark alley where anything unexpected could jump out at both you and Jason. Batman wasn’t stupid and he was a master of the shadows, two things that you had to worry about. “I don’t know Jay.” Your eyes bounce around again, uncertain and sure of something that was coming. “It's a bit risky, what if he comes back?” You asked, once again looking around wearily. 

A small huff comes from Jason, the boy clearly not having the same worries as you do. “Come on.” He turns away from the tire he had started to crouch down in front of and looks at you with a deadpan expression. “The Bat is asking to be jacked, left it here and everything,” he says worry-free before crouching down again. 

A small creak comes from beside you and you run away from it. You look down and see a mouse scurrying away before a cat jumps down from where it was perched, stalking the animal. “And you don’t find that suspicious?” You ask, walking toward Jason with a relieved sigh. 

Jason looks over at you and now closer, you can see how your own worry is settling on him and realize that this is Jason you’re talking to. If anything, he would freak out later but he had always been better at pushing worry and second-guessing thoughts away than you. “Come on, one tire can feed us for a few weeks at the most,” he says and you nod. 

Looking around again, you spot nothing and look back at Jason with a defeated groan. “Fine.” A smile comes on his face and you scowl at him, kicking his leg softly and he laughs “But if we get caught it's your fault,” you said, a small chuckle coming from you when his face falls. 

He groans and grabs the tire iron he had set down at some point. “Really?” You plant your hands on your hips, there was no way he was dragging you down with him with something that he wanted to do. “Okay, okay I’ll take the blame.” He kicks you softly and gestures for you to turn around. “Now, be the lookout,” he orders. 

An offended sound comes from you as you whirl around to look at the boy who has already started working on the tire. “I hate being lookout,” you complain, earlier died complaints rising again but in a new form.  

“Shut up,” he says and you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to kick him harder this time. 

Turning around, you look around continuing the constant moves that you had been doing the entire time. 

Crime Alley was always a mystery, never knowing what was coming and never knowing how it would affect you. Always having your life on the line and always trying to ignore the stares that make you shiver in disgust. 

In Crime Alley, running away was second nature, and learning how to throw a punch was not so much a necessity as it was a key to survival. Having people that you ran with, and a small crew to back you up was important but it was the constant feeling of close betrayal that would loom on those who were in a group. 

You and Jason had grown up in opposite apartments, never far from each other and knowing each other as family. Relying on each other was something else that was second nature, knowing each other as lifelines rather than the burdens that your families would have you two believe the other was. Neither of you were burdens, not to each other at least. 

Goosebumps crawl up your skin and you look around the roofs, making sure to try and not to miss a single detail. Eyes are watching you and Jason, you can feel it so clearly but you don’t know where they’re coming from. Whatever or whoever they're coming from, they're close and that was more than you needed as an excuse to get both you and Jason away from the alley. 

Turning around, you go to tell Jason it’s time to go but a figure behind him stops you where you stand. Your eyes go wide as you stare at the figure, wondering how Jason couldn’t feel a presence beside him. “Uh Jay,” you squeak out, almost too scared to speak at all. 

A groan comes from him and Jason doesn’t even look your way. “I know you hate being lookout but get over it,” he says. 

Your eyes stay on the figure and the figure's eyes stay on you. “Jason!” You hiss at the boy. 

“What!” He yells looking over to where he thought you were standing. You don’t look at him but the loud sound of the tire iron makes you flinch a bit despite the way you're still frozen in your spot. “Oh shit,” you hear him say as both of you gaze upon the dark and shadowy figure of The Batman himself. 

— — — — —

Shame grips you in its claws and the hard stare that Bruce is giving you isn’t helping. The accident that happened only an hour ago is already starting to haunt you. The way that the man looked at you as he fell, the way that he had pressed a gun to your head, and how, even through the mask, you could feel the weight of Bruce’s disappointment on you. 

I’m sorry was too light of an apology for what you had done but it’s all you can come up with for now. All you can manage through the tears that gather in your eyes and the closing in your throat, the muscle threatening to close in on itself. You feel like you can’t breathe and Bruce not saying anything, only standing there and looking at you in disappointment makes it much worse. 

You looked up at him, Bruce didn't even bother with removing his cowl even in the safety of the Batcave. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, saying those useless but repeating words again despite that they won’t work. 

The scowl deepens on his face and you can feel your domino mask start to dampen from the tears that start coming from your eyes. “That’s not good enough Mavis,” he says sternly and you choke back a sob. Nothing good will come from it and if anything, it’ll prove more that you didn’t deserve to be next to Batman, next Robin, or Nightwing—you didn’t deserve to be in this nighttime family that you had been welcomed to. 

Looking down again, you want to hide the tears from Bruce but it's too late. You want to hide everything from him, you want to hide in general and never come back out. Not as Mavis and not even as yourself. Seeing Bruce as a disappointed Batman was one thing but seeing Bruce the man that had taken both you and Jason in being disappointed, you were sure it would kill you. 

You choke back another sob, you choke back so many that you think that you may die from it. “What do you want me to say, Bruce?” You looked at him, domino mask falling off and you can feel the sympathetic eyes of both Jason and Dick. You're not sure which one is worse out of the three of them. “It was an accident, he was too heavy and I couldn’t reach him in time,” you explain yet again, repeating the words that you told yourself to get over the guilt that's eating you inside. 

The man in front of you nods, his clenched jaw doesn’t go past you and the way that his eyes get angry whenever he looks at you too long is everything that you need to know that no matter which personality, the man in front of you is going to feel the exact same way. “Your suspended Mavis.” You nod at his words, agreeing with them and ignoring the wide-eyed look that Jason is giving you both. “Just until this all goes away,” he says softly and you look at him, seeing that part of him that contains the father personality of the two different personas.

Nodding once more, you start to walk away, wanting to leave the cave, the suit and the three people behind just for the night. “Okay,” you said, walking past Bruce, heading toward the stairs. Your legs hurt from the night and from the way you had landed on them after failing to catch that man but you're not using the elevator, you don’t deserve to use it tonight. 

A scoff comes from behind you and you wish that Jason would let this go but it’s Jason and no matter what, he’s going to look after you the way that you’ve always looked out for him. “What? No this isn’t okay. B it was an accident, she didn’t mean to,” he says loudly, more upset than you are but you can't blame him. You’re sure that if you were in a different mindset or if this was Jason in your position, you would be just as mad. 

You turn around and meet the green blue eyes that belong to Jason, trying to plead with him to let this go. “It’s fine Jay,” you said, your voice worn and ragged, raw with unshed tears that blur your vision. 

The look on his face is worse than the one that Bruce held, this look of pure betrayal cuts you deeper than Bruce’s disappointment ever could. “You can’t tell me that you're alright with this?” He asked, bewildered at your choice to willingly step away from the cape. 

You only shrug, nothing left in you to do much else. “It happened Jay, what's done is done and that's it,” you said as firmly as you could before turning around and walking away. 

You can only hope, only wish that what happened never comes up again. That walking away from the cape will be your own way to prevent what you think is happening. You won’t be an unforgivable—you refuse to. 

No matter how much watching that man fall and die made you feel. 

— — — — —

The night is cold, one of the coldest of the year but with your thick coat and insulated pants, you can barely feel it. The fur lining the inside of the coat is soft and warm, providing a nice feeling against your skin, not scratchy or uncomfortable. Your pants aren’t worn or ragged, they’re not dirty or stolen, they’re new and just like your coat, they’re comfortable. 

You feel much like Bruce at this moment, watching over your target, calculating and waiting but unlike Bruce, you're not going to approach this man. You're not going to arrest him either, that would be mercy for what he’s done and if you had learned anything over the years with Bruce, it's that those who get mercy become worse. The Joker was already horrible, already vile, and nasty and deserve to be put down with a shot between his eyes because even though that would be mercy as well, you can’t find yourself to be able to torture. 

The man leans over his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hands that he hasn’t drunk yet but the way that he’s been staring at it, you don’t think it's going to be long. You raise up the gun in your hand, training it on the man, and wait. The gun has a muffler so it won’t be too loud but you're sure the person behind you could hear it just as well as you could.

You look behind you, eyes meeting the brown leather jacket that the Red Hood wore before looking at the signature helmet. You had to give Jason some credit, while this had been someone else's, he had made it his own. Just like how you made the shadows your own. “Decided to stretch your legs?” You ask, turning around and facing him fully. 

This wasn’t the real Jason or that was what you had convinced yourself even after you had seen his face. Your Jason was short, the same size as you were when both of you were young. This Jason wasn’t, he was muscular and strong and something in him wasn’t quite right. “Oh yeah, maybe I’ll do some outlet shopping later,” he said, leaning against the wall, hand gripping his gun tight. This was yet another thing that your Jason didn’t share with this one. 

Yours would have trusted you enough to not look at him and pull the trigger. 

A small laugh comes from you and you look over the edge of the roof, the man sitting there was drinking his whiskey and doing his paperwork. Looking back at Jason, you walked toward him and the hand on the gun gripped harder the closer you got. “You can’t, it’s too late for that,” you said, now standing right in front of him. 

Jason looks at you and through his helmet, you can see the eye roll, the way that he always responded whenever you would try and intimidate him like everyone else. He would swear that it didn’t work on him and sometimes you believed him and if he were to say that now, you wouldn’t believe a word of what he says. “You know you're a difficult person to find,” he tells you, stretching out like you don’t have your gun trained at his crotch and that he doesn’t get a first-hand show at the man choking on his own vomit from the poison from this exact angle. 

This is something you hated that you got from Bruce, something that showed that he had raised you, had trained you, and had honed the way that you would look around and see almost everything in the shadows. You hated the fact that you were a planner, thinking and listing every bad thing that could happen in your mind and one of those things was that either Jason, Bruce, or one of the others would show up tonight. “Didn’t want to be found,” you tell him simply, no use in trying to make him believe in anything different. 

Nodding, you can almost picture the way his face looks under his helmet, confused and questioning but knowing better from the years of being by your side before his death. “And now?” He asked, crossing his arms, the gun still clutched tightly in his hand, ready to use if he found it necessary. 

You looked down, feeling that crawling feeling come up into you that had always been in you whenever you were thirteen around Jason. “Let's call it sympathy,” you said, looking back up and shrugging. “You were running around like a headless chicken.” You smile at the memory from an hour ago, Jason searching along with Bruce and the new Robin by his side. No new Mavis though, you're sure there never will be, stick with one curse instead of two. “What do you want?” You know what he wants, he wants to know why you two are on opposite sides of each other unlike the years long ago but he’s not here to ask that. Jason’s not here for him, he’s here for Bruce. 

Some things never change.

A small chuckle comes through the mask, it’s deeper than what it would normally be because of the voice changer but in its depths, is your Jason. “Can’t I just be here to talk, maybe share some stories around an imaginary campfire,” he says and you shake your head, some things thankfully hadn’t changed. 

In your hand, you grip the gun tighter and check the barrel, making sure that the usual three bullets are in there. “Your stories suck, what does that Bat want?” You ask, getting bored with the conversation and impatient for the true one that you want to have but will probably never get. 

Jason shrugs, trying to buy time. “Help, more money, Selina. Fucked if I know with the old man,” he says. 

A sigh comes from you and you point the gun toward his foot. It's unprotected, something that you were surprised Bruce let him get away with. “You can put the gun up Jason, you don’t need it,” you tell him and from where you're standing, you can feel the doubt. 

Using his own gun, Jason had it ready, making sure that, if needed, he could shoot you before you shot him. He gestures at your gun with his own. “Then put yours up or are you waiting to shoot me?” He asks, getting into a prepared stance for a fight that won’t come, not that he knows that. 

You look at the gun and then at him, feigning obliviousness. “Oh, this. This isn’t for you,” you say, sticking out your arm behind you and shooting, aiming for the suit shoulders, the weak spots that he had shown you himself. 

Bruce dodges it and goes to attack you and simply, you move away from him. You didn’t come here for a fight or to kill people who you weren’t paid to kill. Shooting Bruce and hitting him would be nothing more than a bonus. 

The man before you is different to you but at the same time, it’s like he never changed. His blue eyes are cold but you can see the reluctance in them, the pleading that he wants to have with you to not fight you because both of you know you're not going to win. Though winning isn’t the goal, in a way he wants to prove that you're not like him, no matter how well you had made the shadows your own. 

You weren’t Bruce and you weren’t Batman. You didn’t have a name or a face to go with it, that legend that Batman was stretched to you and the rumors that flew around were more ridiculous by each tongue that passed it. No name or face will do that, only by the edge of your coat did they know you and the knowledge that a few years after Mavis left you showed up, some had guessed that you two were one and the same. 

A small laugh comes from you as Jason grabs your shoulder and you pull back your arm, elbowing him in the stomach and making him keel over. With your free hand, you reached back and pressed the button on his helmet. You moved away from him and Bruce before either could grab you and the sound of Jason’s helmet hitting the ground made a smile come to your face but it dropped when the face your eyes met with resembled nothing of your Jason. “Well wasn’t that fun,” you said, feeling the adrenaline pumping through you. This had to be the most action you had gotten since that first night as a mercenary.

Bruce glares through his cowl, jaw clenched and using those hard blue eyes filled with disappointment that used to work on you. You weren’t thirteen anymore, that look had retired its purpose with you before you had even left both the nighttime and daytime family Bruce had made. “You killed him,” he growled out and you rolled your eyes at him. 

Leaning against the wall, you laughed at how the two before you stood, acting as if blocking the edge of the roof would stop you from leaving. “Thanks, Sherlock, I would have never known that if you didn’t tell me,” you said sarcastically. 

The look on Bruce’s face stayed the same but you could see the way his shoulders slightly fell, it was the same way he looked at you after he realized that you had switched sides. It was the look he gave you after he realized that, no matter what promises or whatever words he said wouldn’t get you to come back to him. It was the look of giving up, it was the look that someone would give a lost cause when they realized so. “Why kill him? What do you get out of it?” He asked. They were useless questions for useless time with the queries that he already knew the answers for. 

Showing you Jason hadn’t worked or at least didn’t in the way he had hoped, you didn’t immediately come back to him the way he wanted, and with this Jason before you, you didn’t think you would. This was uncharted and unknown territory for you, mountains and rivers had replaced the hills and ponds that were once between you and him, all of them well known and well explored in any way two kids from Crime Alley could when half-starved and dehydrated to hell. 

You grazed your eyes over him, judging the way that he had changed as well. “Piece it together,” you spat at him, irritation starting to set in with Bruce and the imposter. 

A grunt came from him, he was letting it go but if you stuck around long enough, then it would come back up again. He knew the answers, he had investigated them himself and you had let him but maybe, he wanted to hear it from you himself. “I need your help,” he said gruffly like he didn’t want to say the words. 

You nodded at his words. “Why?” You asked, it was another stupid question to fill up the time to be near the uncharted territory of someone you used to know like the back of your hand. 

He tilts his head a bit, and something akin to a memory flashes in front of your eyes of your Jason doing the same thing. “What?” He said almost like he hadn’t anticipated you saying no. Relying so much on Jason’s presence that he hadn’t thought of another way to approach you if the answer was no. 

A scoff comes from you and you look at his unpreparedness in the same way he looked at your mistakes and accidents when you were still by his side as Mavis. “Out of that entire small army, why ask me? You have your Robins, Nightwing, and even Red Hood.” You point at Jason, pretending to not see the flinch at your harsh-sounding words when you did so. It tugged at your heart because even though the person in front of you wasn't Jason, somewhere deep down he was still your Jason. “Why ask me?”

“Because you are the only one who can do what I need done.”

“Don’t pull that shit on me!” You yell, stepping forward, you grip your gun tighter than ever before but you back away when Jason steps forward. “I’m not coming back Bruce and that’s it, now why do you really need my help?”

It’s quiet, none of you know how to talk to each other. Communication died between you and Bruce after the accident and it had worsened when Jason died but it was completely abolished when Bruce showed up with Tim. That was the night you left. When Bruce gave the boy the title of Robin, you left and for months afterward, you were ready to hear the news of a new Mavis showing up but no such news ever came. 

The sidekick was dead, Batman wasn’t bringing the title back, and he didn’t need another curse. The one on the Robins was enough. 

— — — — —

The job had been simple, a week's worth of working with the family that you had left. Being in the Batcave was bad enough but seeing Alfred had almost made you cry and you were sure it was the same with the older man. The training room had brought back memories and the sight of your old suit in case, displayed and memorialized had made you feel a wave of an anger-filled sadness. 

Now, you stand in front of the Batcomputer, waiting for the cuffs to come around your wrists or for Bruce to try and convince you to stay. Footsteps come from behind you and you should have known that out of everybody, Jason would try and get you to stay the most. He had clung to you and you to him through the week, barely apart and if so, only for an hour at the most. It felt like before again but you had to face the truth this week had given you, you had to leave again and for good this time. 

Jason stops right behind you and knowing that this would be the last time had tears started to well up in your eyes. You felt thirteen again, sobbing and soaking your mask at the unwavering and disappointed eyes of Bruce. “You could stay you know,” he says softly and you're sure that if the cave wasn’t empty except for the both of you, you wouldn’t have heard him. 

Turning around, you meet the eyes of Jason. When he was young they were more blue than green but now, they looked greener than usual and you wanted to look away from them, afraid you wouldn’t do what needed to be done if you didn’t. “You know I was kinda expecting to be bombarded with questions,” you say with a small smile, wanting to lean against something to try and hold up your weak body but Jason deserves to hear you saying everything while standing up. 

A smile came to his face and like his voice, it was soft like anything more than that would scare you away forever. “That’s only if you say no,” he joked and you laughed. 

The laughter stayed for a few more minutes, going from that to chuckling then to small giggles here and there. Then a silence comes over the both of you and you lean forward, grabbing his hand and desperately wishing you could ignore how his very touch made you feel. “Jay, I can’t,” you whisper, feeling the tears start to fall with each and every blink that you made.

The grip on your hands tightens and those eyes that have grown on you over the past week bore into you with small tears of their own. “If it's Bruce I can talk to him,” he said and you can hear the underlying words no matter how many layers he tries to pack on top. The desperation reaching a height that you haven’t seen since the first time you and Jason had gone cold and hungry on the streets. 

You sigh and look away from him, this was becoming harder than needed and you wondered if it would be like this if you had just left when his back was turned. “It’s not Bruce. Jay, I think I should go,” you choke out, the tears coming down faster, picking up pace from how much this is paining you. 

Jason nods and grabs one of your hands, starting to walk toward the stairs and he looks back at you when you don’t move. Suddenly you're twelve again, starving, freezing, and way too skinny for someone your age. You’re being pulled around by your best friend and your only family to jack a car that belongs to Batman once more before it fades away into the present. “I’ll walk you out,” he offers with a small sad smile. 

A sniffle comes from you and you can feel the tears going down your neck. “You know I don’t mean it like that,” you say softly, the words breaking your heart and you wished and cursed yourself for wanting to and not leaving while he wasn’t looking. Leaving meant that you couldn’t say goodbye but it also meant that you wouldn’t hurt as much as you were now. 

A flash of anger comes on his face and he lets go of your hand before rushing up to you, grabbing your face in his hands. Despite his anger, the cradling is soft, and even with the calloused and scared hands that hold you, you feel more comfortable than you have in years. “Fuck Bruce, fuck this whole thing.” You now see the few tears that slipped down his own face as the anger fades away, his eyes pleading once more. “Stay, please,” he whispers beggingly. 

You reach up, hands touching his wrist but not moving them and not pressuring them to let you go. You don’t want him to, you would rather have anything but that happen—you have to and you have to let him go too. “I have to. Gotham, this—everything. I can’t stay here Jay or I’ll do something worse than what I have been doing,” you explain to him. 

Jason shakes his head rapidly, gripping tighter like if his touch even wavered you would disappear from his sight. “Then I'll stop you. I’ll be there for you and I won’t leave you like I did before,” he promises. 

You sigh and look up into his eyes, hoping to capture how they look now forever. “You died Jason, don't blame yourself for what I’ve become.” Slowly, you tilt your head and softly kiss him and he leans in, drawing you in more. You two stay there for a few more seconds before pulling away, foreheads now touching. “I love you Jay, I hope you can carry that with you until you no longer need it,” you whisper to him. 

His tears hit your skin and the tear makes a sob come from you. “I’ll need you forever,” he says and with those words, he lets you slip away from him for the last time.

[gunsli-01]

Okay you asked for this one- So, let’s talk about Futa, Mikoto, and Kotoko and the escalation in violence portrayed through the three of them.

Futa is the first prisoner to be overtly violent during their interrogation. His violence may seem completely reactionary in nature, but a pattern presents itself when he is compared to the other two outwardly violent inmates.

Futa- Reactionary Self-justifiable violence.

If you come at him, he’ll come back at you just as hard if not more. However, if you don’t, he’s not likely to escalate the situation to violence first. This is something alluded to within his first trial written interrogation and Backdraft.

Q.12 Do you think the other prisoners should be forgiven for their “murder”?

Futa: People who resort to violence are shit! You only do stuff like that if you’re stupid.

“Bust out, explode that counter uppercut!”

Futa will respond to violence with violence. Because he believes once someone has brought it to that level that person has essentially brought whatever happens to them next on themselves. He’s justified in attacking because he’s just reacting to an attack. Even if what he does is worse than what was done to him.

This also plays a part in why he has to hype himself up so much before running at Es. Since Es has done nothing to attack him personally yet Futa has to come up with many justifications of his own to warrant him escalating it to violence. Even before entering the interrogation room-

20/09/18 (Futa’s First Trial)

Futa: Haa…… haa…… Ok……

Kotoko: What’s up, Futa. ……your breathing seems a bit uneven?

Futa: Huh!? I’m getting ready to fight. That guard is looking down on all of us……!

Kotoko: ……hmm. Is that so…… I’m looking forward to it- To seeing what your “justice” really is.

Then during his interrogation Futa only lunges at Es after Es taunts him with,

“Not used to lying, are you?”

After repeatedly reading Futa’s mannerisms/body language and stating aloud why they make him appear more guilty.

Futa’s response to Es’ admitted provocations was to lunge at him while yelling, “Cut it out, asshole!” Giving us our first instance of the force that stops the prisoners from hitting Es being triggered.

Throughout his interrogation he brings up the many ways Milgram and Es through association to the facility has violated his rights and continues to look down on him. Culminating in,

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! Don’t go around evaluating people like you’re better than everyone else. Once I get outta here, I’m going to sue this place! You as well! You better not be thinking you’ll get off scot-free. I’ll never forgive you, bad guys. And, this place is called Milgram- I’ll crush it down as well!”

Futa is keeping track of every slight and he seems to be the one to pay it back in kind and then some.

Mikoto- Defensive Justifiable Subjugating Violence.

Pretty straight forward. Mikoto will do anything to defend himself from perceived threats whether they be mental or physical threats. Anything that can do harm to him will be met with a firm denial. He will escalate things to violence first if provoked enough. However, the fun part comes in during the second half.

Unlike Futa and Kotoko who will more than likely help someone meet their maker Mikoto will not be helping anyone get an early visitation pass to the next life. Instead, the purpose behind his violence is to get whatever is disturbing him under his control. Very similar to Amane’s line in Purge March of,

“Let’s strangle his throat thoroughly, so he will never talk back.”

What some may have interpreted as hinting at murder here is actually Amane stating quite literally, she is going to strangle this person so thoroughly that they will never be able to talk back to her again. Since being strangled can lead to voice loss this doesn’t necessarily mean she’s going to kill who she’s referring to. Just exactly what she’s saying she’s going to strangle them well enough that they won’t be physically capable of talking back to her regardless of if they still want/have the courage to after this or not.

X

The intention just like with Mikoto isn’t to murder but to subjugate or teach the other party a lesson. This is implied in Mikoto’s voice drama when he says,

“You prefer it when it hurts more, huh? That’s fine. I’ll beat you up all you want.”

The implication being Es' actions are causing him to behave this way and until Es learns how to act, he can do this all day. Something that is once again implied and played with through his birthday interaction with Kotoko.

(2022/12/15)

Mikoto: Ah, Koto-chan. It's been a while. We were isolated for some time but, how are you doing? Lots of things happened, but for now let's get along. Here, it's your birthday right? I figured that no one would come celebrate it for you, so I came to wish you a happy birthday.

Kotoko: ...What a carefree person you are. Someone as atrocious as you won't be forgiven next time too, surely. When that time comes, it'll be your last. Next time, I'll kill you.

Mikoto: Haah? Why don't you try it then, you lunatic. I'll crush anyone who tries to harm me.... I'll make sure to thoroughly beat you at your own game...!!

Kotoko: Hmph. The boundaries have gotten more blurred, it seems. Your existence itself is a crime. I will give you your punishment. This is MILGRAM's, Es', and also my own decision.

This is more than likely why he only fights Kotoko to the point of making her back down. Because her fleeing or needing to retreat is also a sign of him being the dominant force in that interaction. Meaning this conversation is the other guy literally just saying if we play this game again, I'll thoroughly beat some sense into you and leave you groveling at my feet.

However, when keeping control of the situation/outside influence is no longer a viable option he may resort to eradicating the source of the issue.

"Hurting it, holding it down, it doesn’t change anything, does it."

Mikoto and Amane be like, "When all else fails removing it from this earth won't."

This means chances are he isn’t really asking Kotoko to work with him. He’s expressly asking for her to be a subordinate of his but disguising it as a partnership. Not too dissimilar to what Kotoko does with Es.

Speaking of-

Kotoko- Systemically Justifiable Violence

Kotoko unlike Futa and Mikoto is somewhat incapable of justifying her own behavior. Possibly because on some level she knows she’s just doing it for her own fulfilment. So, instead she looks to systems to validate her actions.

Either saying that she is doing this to protect the weak and overlooked. A thing that someone in her position of privilege should definitely do in her own opinion. I mean if she has the power and access to resources needed to work against these systems it would be worse if she just did nothing, right?

Her and her access to martial arts training from a young age-

Q.04 When did you start learning martial arts?

Kotoko: When I was in primary school, I think? Without enough power, justice won’t be upheld.

Since she stated primary school, she started doing martial arts between the ages of 6-12. She has also been trained to the point at which she can self-study/train without an instructor present. Yet for some reason she is literally over the moon at a treadmill in the crossover. Though that’s not too weird considering her instruction may not have involved that sort of equipment.

Q.05 What do you do to pass time in the prison?

Kotoko: Training and meditation.

X

Couple that with such training not being free. She either went to a very well-off school or her family paid for classes.

It doesn’t matter if she hasn’t experienced the same hardships or misfortunes. She knows something bad when she sees it.

Q.18 Have you ever personally been persecuted in the past?

Kotoko: I haven’t. But are you trying to say that if you haven’t had those experiences you can’t hate evildoers?

The system is flawed and needs strong people like her to fix it. Those who are weak and can’t even protect themselves should just sit back and let her protect them.

Q.15 Which is more important, the objective or the means?

Kotoko: Objective. Does that not go without saying?

Q.16 How do you feel about extenuating circumstances?

Kotoko: I think it’s important to consider. I don’t believe it’s true that all crime is inherently evil, so obviously the situation should be taken into account.

Q.20 What do you consider “evil”?

Kotoko: The persecution of the weak and innocent.

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

If there is a system that aligns with her beliefs- It doesn’t matter if pieces of it go against her or if the weak agree with her methods or not. If it’s for the sake of her goal, then anything is worth doing. Anything and everything goes as long as she feels that those actions are bringing her closer to the outcome she desires.

“Let’s give justice to the bad guys!” / “Why? Why stop me? Don’t stop! I need a good reason to give justice! Give me my next purpose!”

Even if Es says her actions are wrong Milgram has judged everyone within it as murderers. She knows that just by them all being there. So, who’s to say she wouldn’t just default to that.

“This is MILGRAM's, Es', and also my own decision.”

Es is second to Milgram after all. Kotoko's whole thing is wanting someone or something to give her actions a reason. However, as soon as the source of that reason defies her well, we have a perfect example of her turning on one of those reasons right up there.

[whoslaurapalmer]

okay!!! got my thoughts together about in stars and time!!! many spoilers.

spoiler-free review -- Wow, There Are Certainly Things That Happened In That There Time Loop !!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!! !!! ! ! ! !!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!! !!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! !! !!!! ! ! ! ! this game broke my heart like six times. you should play it. heed those triggers though cause i probably maybe did not do that as much as i should have

-i! will think about this game for the rest of my life probably

-me at the beginning of the game, a seasoned player in shouting 'it's the human connection!!!!' at media, bc it's my favorite thing in the world: it's the human connection, siffrin!!!!!!!! talk to your friends!!!!!!! me at the end of the game: IT IS THE HUMAN CONNECTION. I AM IN TEARS. MY HEART IS IN PIECES -gets me every fucking time.

-odile: you loved us so much you were going to break the whole entire world and honestly that's cute. sif: :( -it's so much. it's precious it's heartbreaking it's everything. odile's not wrong though!!!!! -me, regularly about cats doing Things: they just want love!!!! me, about sif, now: THEY JUST WANT LOOOOOOOOVE

-and it's not just the human connection!!!! it's being able to rely on yourself, too!!!! to show yourself the kind of kindness you need too, to be capable of being kind to yourself, not just accepting help from other people (as important as that is, as important as being able to ASK for it is, for siffrin) but accepting help from yourself -if that makes sense -helping yourself!!! you don't forget about your past self, or any self!!!! -'my self-loathing isn't that strong that i'd literally kill another me.' EXACTLY!!!!! IT NEVER IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that line took me out -i hated fighting loop so i was so happy. that one kinda worked out

-oh man loop being a sif from a different universe was not on my bingo card at all for this game (-i didn't have a bingo card. but i was wildly theorizing about OTHER things while i was playing.) -and that sif can start to be the person they needed? that loop needed? -MAN!!! AND THAT PUTS SO MANY OF LOOP'S STATEMENTS IN A DIFFERENT CONTEXT -when they're like. 'wow! what if you ARE manipulative and disgusting :)' - :( - :(((((((((((((((((((((( -loop i hope you can be happy.........wherever you are................................ -i want to have more thoughts about loop but right now i am still at 'aaaaaaa.......... :(' -'i asked for this job, stardust.' they asked to help themselves :') they asked to hurt themselves :') they asked to keep themselves trapped in the horrors :')

-one of the things i love about the game is that there's sooooooooo many little details that you pass as you go through the loops that you have to come back to bc they become important, like the carving tools, the weapon room, the books!!!!! -going through and seeing these details over and over and then going 'OH SHIT WAIT! I HAVE TO GO BACK THERE' -it's just built so well!!!! i liked that. -needing to try all of bonnie's snacks so you know what their favorite food is!!!!! -how sif's reaction to the same items changes!!!! -the list in the head housemaiden's office!!!!!!!!

-minor disappointments that there was no real resolution for the country that disappeared, just bc so much was made of it? -THAT'S what i was wildly theorizing about -but also, like, it still........doesn't ultimately matter? -like, i definitely would've liked to have known! -i feel so stupid saying this bc my favorite book series is literally a series of unfortunate events and i will defend the lack of answers in the end for my entire life!!! -but there's also. definitely enough to theorize about it all, too

-but yeah! ultimately in the face of other things in the story -- sif's deep-seated self-loathing and desire to remember and be remembered -- remembering, specifically, their home, as pivotal as it is, is not........necessarily the point -it's about identity, but there's lots of kinds of identity, lots of pieces of what makes up someone's identity, what contributes to a new identity when something about you has been taken away from you, what are the pieces of you in the first place? -and not just for sif, for odile, too

-and part of it is. sometimes, you have multiple homes. sometimes? your home isn't the Home you had, it's the people you come to love, and that doesn't make it less than the home you had before, but you can still feel the gaping absence of a "natural" or expected home, you can still feel the loss of what you did have and could've kepts to -/lulu vandelay sits up in a cold sweat bc she literally just wrote that exact same thing in her most recent headcanon ramble fic, and has to take a moment to stare at the wall about the joys and agony of the human connection again, and how precious found family stories are

-there's so much in this game that i feel like i could still unpack more boxes. gosh

-i put 55 hours into this game over like. a little over a week? almost two weeks??? -actually it was more like 45 -- there were some stretches of time i was not close to a save point and had to put my switch in sleep mode for a few hours until i could go back to it. so the game counted a little more than i actually played -I POWERED THROUGH. I WANTED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED NEXT EVERY TIME SO BADLY -and i love how. it's like, a little hard to get stuck. at least the way i played, i feel like it unfolded pretty consistently -i would, perhaps, have. played a little slower, though. just. -bc the game hits a point where it starts to get VERY HEAVY. it stays good but i was concerned about the time loops from the get go (i love time loops. i love the thoughts that come with time loops! and oh boy did this one.........bring the thoughts........) so by the time sif was starting to lose it about the time loops I WAS ALREADY THOROUGHLY LOSING IT ABOUT THE TIME LOOPS -also i'd put the game down and go 'no, lulu, you yourself are not in a time loop.' -it was very quickly breaking my heart!!!! sif was hurt and IT HURT!!!! sif's heart was breaking and SO WAS MINEEEEEEEE -sometimes it's like, cathartic in a way to experience those feelings through someone else -- sif being trapped, feeling trapped, feeling like he's always doing something wrong and it's always his fault, maybe if he didn't do this it would work out and it didn't, trying again and still getting punished for it, not wanting to be forgotten (so desperately that you trap yourself in a time loop bc you don't have a home!!!!) but it still hurt!!!!! it still hurt a lot!!!!!!!!!! -in a great way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but it's so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!! god.

-i do kind of want to replay it, though. maybe not right away bc it's a game that works beautifully the first time you play it bc you uncover things at basically the same pace sif does, and right now i think i would just go, 'sif you need to act out of disrespect now and read marc's notebook, sorry.' -but i. would like to experience this story again. when some time has passed!!!!

-okay. look. -i was considering the diary in the orrery as either sif's or the king's; that either one of them was 'the original' and the other was 'the wish craft one' (-how else would the king have gotten that diary?) (-or, well, idk, maybe he found it. makes you wonder.) -bc the parallels between sif and the king were REALLY GETTING TO ME. there were SO MANY. literally wrote down 'oh sif you're not beating the 'actually the king' allegations here' -and that the power of that wish craft was what caused the country to disappear (which the ka buan book speculates anyway) -and -- also not that sif needs a reason to have a terrible memory, like that's fine on its own absolutely -- being the 'copy' was the reason they kept forgetting things, or being the 'original' was the reason bc they were missing parts of themself -or maybe it was someone else's!!!!!!! -mysteries............

-oh i should have thoughts about the king literally being frozen and at that point. getting the memories of his country -you cannot...........always stay in the past...............bc you cannot move forward...........bc we are always moving forward...................

-i don't mind not having an answer about the like, "ghost" sifs though -- that works fine as it is to me -pieces of past loops? pieces of future loops? a piece of the sif that went through the house alone -omg. i got the scene where the rest of the squad talks to the ghost sif bc i fastforwarded to floor 3 all unlocked on one loop but went back to the change god bc i didn't know if i got the keyknife or not -i then realized i could've just checked the inventory. -IT WORKED OUT THOUGH BC I GOT THAT SCENE //AND// FOUND OUT IT WAS MIRA'S STATUE, SO!

-i think there were a few loop conversations i missed? just a couple? -but i got the croissant one, which i was very thrilled to find out the story for -i did not get the dagger though (although i stg i used so many tears.) -and you know what????? i think that is for the best :) maybe next time :))))

-oh the croissant reveal did not disappoint!!!!! just like......... -being confronted with something you hadn't really thought about. and realizing suddenly how much it means -and ascribing so much terror to an innocuous piece of the situation bc it has to go somewhere. that you never want croissants again, you never want the reminder -but still keeping the coin to remind you, you never want to not remember the important thing, the current one, your family, this family, bc they mean so much to you and you've never been happier, you CAN'T REMEMBER being happier so this is what's important -so you'd hurt yourself to remember them!!!!!!! if that was what it took!!!!!!!!!!!! -I'M SCREAMING

-i was thinking, it wasn't necessarily the deeper wish at the favor tree, for sif (-although the second they made the wish at the tree i was like '............is it gonna turn out that the wish he made is what's trapping him. no. ...no. .......yes? yyyyyyyyyyeah.') -but. running from the boulanger while holding the coin, and desperately praying not to forget, not to be forgotten -bc A Coin is a ritual, too, and siffrin knows them subconsciously -but his wish and vaugarde's wish getting tangled together, is interesting too

-also. so i had like 55 loops total bc i also tried to go straight through the house as often as possible to get as much information out of each loop as possible (and i loved sif's 'touch exposure therapy' in the gardening room and always wanted to go back there specifically) (i was also DESPERATELY trying to see if odile would at any point ACTUALLY specifically comment so i was always letting sif be as weird as possible and look at stuff he should not have known) (and i loved the bathroom scenes, too. those were worth going through the whole house.) -oh anyway anyway sometimes i would loop forward though bc sometimes you do, in fact, have to -me: i am trying to loop the least amount of times. i feel so bad for sif and it's only the beginning of the game. sif's not even feeling bad yet about the loops!!!! the game itself: you WILL loop more and you WILL feel worse :) -AND THE GAME WAS ADDING LOOPS -like, i think if you fast forward over all the floors, it adds more loops, bc after i was like '......wait, for real? that many loops?' i checked as it saved one time after i skipped floors or something

-the gang: /talking about wish craft me: THE FAVOR TREE. THE FAVOR TREE IS RIGHT THERE. YOU HAVE ALL BEEN TO THE FAVOR TREE, GUYS!!!!!!! a loop or two later: /the tree book me: HALLELUJAH

-oh speaking of waiting for sif to notice something (but honestly not that long, which was nice) -i think this was........after you beat the king for the first time? me: sif. sif the change god's statue face as changed. sif. SIF THE FACE HAS CHANGED. LOOK AT THE FACE, SIF!!!!!!! SIF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -he does in fact not notice. that's okay, sif.

-i love that all of them want to stay together for a little longer, too!!!! like!!!!!!!! no but that's so good -bc, how do you end this kind of journey??? how do you really just go your separate ways right after????? how do you..........stop after you just saved the world -none of them want to let go yet and that's okay and they can say it!!!!!!! -THEY'RE FAMILYYYYYYYYYYYYYY -but sometime they'll have to. and sif will have to be okay with it. but there's still time to grow. there always is!!!! there's time to. change. whatever that change is.

-the change god being real was A SURPRISE!!!!!! holy shit. that was scary. -WITH THE MOST CHILL SPEECH STYLE. THAT WAS HILARIOUS (-me, reading the change god's text: ........i miss you roxy lalonde.......)

-me: i want to do the 'sif helps everyone' tasks again bc they were such sweet and precious and comforting moments and doing them all in one run was the best thing ever (and then sif refers to everyone as their family afterwards which was shattering!!!!!), but doing them again after the first time would just cheapen them, for sif to have to relive such pivotal moments knowing this loop probably isn't the loop it'll stick........like, i could not redo them now, and i could not fast forward through them. i cannot do it. it would feel like a terrible corruption!!!! sif in act 5, going through his millionth nervous breakdown: hold. my. fucking. beer. me: 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 -AND THAT THAT'S THE LAST FUCKING LOOP -bc it can't be perfect, sif!!! you have to let people help you!!!!! you have to cry!!!!!!!!1 it won't be perfect it will be messy and terrible and people will get hurt but that's not the end of the world!!!!!! -i mean they really went for the gut in those convos, though. oh sif.

-i love that sif finally gets a chance to just sit and cry and gets a whole big squad hug at the same time. -and they're going to keep trying!! keeping growing!!!! keep going!!!!!! learning!!!! and so will all of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-mal du pays: /appears me, with literally ten years of french practice: .............................................................................. still me: /googles me: OH FUCK HOMESICKNESS -i was mistranslating mal for a hot second there, okay. somehow. -fun fact, my favorite french word is malheureusement. (my least.....favorite.......is......fucking chaussures) (uggg, i can just never pronounce it right. chausette is fucking fine! but shoes.............)

-i would die for bonbon. the best chaos child. -i am picking them up and putting them in my pocket. i want them to make me snacks. -i want those madelines!!!!!! i love madelines............. -and the palmiers!!! good ol elephant ears -i love that, canonically, they do the naruto run. they are such a precious little kid my god

-isabeau: /talking about the cracked egg keychain me: utena??????????

-sif: will i ever like bananas again. me: what i want to know is if they will ever like PLAYS again. -i love how the banana is there so you can just. skip right to the house from dormont if you so choose (a few times towards the end of the game i did)

-i assumed sif stopped carving bc the depth perception was harder after losing their eye? -i hope you carve again too, sif...............

-also them starting to lose things that happened BEFORE the loops started bc they'd been going on for so long and there was so much more to keep in mind, forgetting odile's name one time and forgetting the vodka story and even forgetting THE YEAST JOKE........... -crying. screaming

-i spent most of the game with memory of bomb attached and then ONLY USED THE BOMB ONCE, I KEPT FORGETTING!!!!! -that was great. goddamn -i found all the bomb components pretty early but actually for the life of me i CANNOT remember where the long thingy-thing was so i never picked it up again. where. where was that........

-the game's universe being so casually lgbtq+ was so fun!!!! i love the bonding earrings and how. you'd make as many earrings as people in the relationship!!!!!!!!!! -giving your children multiple names in case they want a different one they already have more options!!!!!!!!

-i took. so many screenshots while playing (like. over 500) bc i just like to screenshot important or powerful lines or favorite jokes but tumblr is being dumb and does not want to put them in so i will just have to list them. -odile going 'as the kids say, yoink~' -BELLE LEARNING HOW TO CUT VEGGIES????? -i will literally never forget, ever, 'meow meow, cat's paw, can't cut my fingies nya!' -sif: /smacks into counter the squad: did you just say nya -sif you're not beating the catperson allegations either -'HOW BLINDINGLY WONDERFUL, FOR A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER TO BE THE ONLY HOPE YOU HAVE LEFT RIGHT NOW!' -it really do be like that. trying to appreciate something small in the throes of 'sometimes irl depression feels like a legitimate time loop of i have to do THIS AGAIN EVERY DAY!' turns into 'this is the most absurd thing in the entire world what the fuck :')' (-the game-universe-specific swears..........LOVE that. love small worldbuliding) -mirabelle's dangly thingies on her dress and her going 'pretty :) goes ding-ding when i walk :)' -speaking of ding ding! -THE FUNNY NOISES APPRECIATION CREW!!!!! i feel like that is such a perfect description of mira and isa and everything about them. i love them so much. i love their friendship. -bonnie going 'i am a child. i have a lot on my mind. i cannot help.' -THE VODKA WAS WATER. IT WAS WATER -pie smell......... (pie smell! pie smell! pie smell!) (the little moments of 'we're going to repeat something charming!' are SO GOOD!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!!!) -odile going 'but i would do anything to protect all of you. horrible things, to be honest.' -god. yeah. goddddddddddddddddddddd -bonnie going 'do you see me!!! do you see me!!!!!' before they touch sif bc they think that will help is so precious oh my god

[bluepeachstudios]

What would Ghost’s opinion of MM Splinter be? It’s kind of interesting because MM Splinter is like his own Splinter in so many ways - started as a rat, attentive dad, teaches them how to fight to protect themselves, determined that they stay hidden… but he hates humans, which is so OPPOSITE to 03 Splinter. The 03 boys saved people in large part because of the attitude towards humans 03 Splinter passed down to them. How would Ghost feel about this difference?

Ghost would think it's fair to feel like that, to an extent. If every human you'd ever met was mean and tried to kill you, he could understand hiding from them so diligently. His own father hid from them so much because he knew humans wouldn't react well to their appearances.

I think he'd like MM Splinter a lot, though. I think they'd get along pretty well and agree on most things. I think Ghost might actually be a little less paranoid just because Splinter is so paranoid? So Ghost might encourage the kids going out and doing things that are harmless (like watching movies outside where they're hidden) and try to just, calm Splinter down a bit about it.

I think it switches by the end, when they're all on the news and Ghost is like "shit fuck we need to be HIDDEN not THIS". Splinter does kinda a big swing from super paranoid to okay with letting his kids go to school, even if he is still very fussy over them. Ghost can't switch that fast, he needs a lot more time.

[carcassarkis]

Big Idea

Been rewatching Star Wars with my grandma (she’s only seen ANH until now) and had an idea I kind of like.

So you know how, in TFA, it is established that the stormtroopers of the First Order were taken as children for brainwashing purposes?? I propose that the same goes for half the officers there. Several volunteers, of course, but many of the extreme loyalists are part of this group of people conditioned into being members. And any kids of those who are part of the Order would be inducted into the group, too.

Here’s where the idea changes the sequels a bit (read: a lot):

Ben Solo was one of those who were taken and brainwashed. He would not be called Kylo Ren; in fact, he’d probably have some number like the troopers did. It’d be easy to make into a name though, like Finn. And, as a Force user, he’d have a different numbering system than those used for troopers or officers. He’d probably have something (hypothetically) like KR-00.

In this scenario, he’d have been given to Luke for Jedi training, as is canon. Then BOOM some terrible entity (Snoke) reaches his nasty little fingers out one night and takes little Benny boy right out from under the nose of the last Jedi. He’s probably like 8 or 9, idk. To cover his tracks, Snoke burns the school to the ground. Luke and a few students manage to survive, but seeing as there is no Ben, Han and Leia lose their shit.

They distance themselves from Luke, seeing as he got their kid killed (or so they think). Luke, along with the select few survivors of the fire, try to rebuild elsewhere. They vanish.

Several years pass (like 15 idk stop asking bro) and, in that time, the First Order has become an immediate threat to the New Republic. One of the most notable threats is their masked, Force-wielding attack dog. Someone with clear training and skill in the art of swordsmanship and wielding of a lightsaber, who has (seemingly) deliberately teamed up with this terrorist group/cult to destroy the New Republic.

The Resistance refers to this person as the Knight due to their armor and fighting capabilities.

The Knight has a reputation to keep. A brutal and bloody one. They’re Snoke’s right-hand (in a Palpatine-Vader way) and are expected to act as such. No one knows what they look like. They’re a perfect anonymous figure. They could go undercover and no one would know.

So, when word gets out that a Force-user claiming to be a Jedi has appeared, the Knight starts to track them down. Luke Skywalker is a valuable man, dead or alive. A First Order battalion is sent out to the planet this was reported on, which brings the Resistance to doing the same.

Which is how we begin our scene on Jakku…with the Knight, a stormtrooper, a pilot, and a Jedi.

[sebstan2020]

Red Ties

Chapter 3

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend McCarthy. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, Mafia, Violence, Gang, SMUT, Sex, Possessive Bucky, Overprotectiveness, Bondage, Sexual Themes, Dark Themes, Guns, Drugs, Gang Violence

James stared out the window, looking down at the parking lot where he had encountered Mary. She was beautiful. Her long blonde hair and bangs that shaped her petite face perfectly, her gorgeous green eyes like emeralds, peeking out from her black lashes. Her sweet smile that made want to grab her face and kiss her. She was nothing he had ever seen before. She was shy, innocent, nervous and a Christian. A good girl. In other words, the opposite to him. The way she got her words muddle up, the blush in her cheeks each time he said something, flashing that smirk that sent every woman to their knees. It was clear to him she had little to maybe no experience with talking to men.

James was a man of wealth and power. He could have anything and everything he wanted with the click of his fingers. His name was known across the state of New York. If you heard his name, you had something to fear. He was a very powerful man and not one you should fuck with. He could kill you in the blink of an eye and have you wiped of the face of the earth. The amount of shit he had gotten away with meant he was defiantly going to hell when he dies. There was no salvation for him. No forgiveness from God.

He had everything, money, power, control you name it. Anything he wanted was his. People feared him so much they gave into him without a second thought. They’d rather do as he said then risk having a bullet through their skull. Owning New York’s title of mob boss was something James knew he was going to have. His father passed it down to him and his father passed it down and so on. It was a family legacy to have the title. Over the years his way of working had changed. In the beginning when he was young and new, James wanted to strut around the city, flaunting his expensive suits and flashy watches, pulling his gun out just for the fun of it. Nowadays he was more careful, organised and controlled. He understood what it meant to be the leader of the mafia. He understood who he should and shouldn’t trust.

Just because he owned New York didn’t mean the cops weren’t against him. A few officers had tried to take him down but failed. Of course, James had corrupted one of the major precincts to his control. They worked for him now which made things much easier for him in terms of covering up evidence and getting away with his crimes. The cops had nothing on him, and he could walk away scot free and if needed a favour, a cop was the perfect patsy.

James got everything he wanted and right now there was something he wanted… Mary. James had encountered many girls in his lifetime. In fact, you could say he had seen every girl in New York. They were all the same. Skinny, long volumized hair, all the works they could have done to their body and throwing themselves at James. They’d do anything he said. If he asked them to jump off a cliff they’d obey. He loved to be in control, to be in charge, to dominant them. He was the king of New York, and they were his loyal citizens. A simple command and they’d fall to their knees, mouths open ready to please and serve them in anyway he wanted. He had kinks as well. The sight of him standing above a naked girl, a whip in his hand while she begged and moaned was something of a glory to woman. But Mary seemed different. She didn’t look like the kind of girl to happily let him fuck her over his fifty-thousand-dollar car or have tied to his bed while he played with her clit with his tongue. She was quiet and nervous around him… a natural born submissive. Someone he could see obeying him, someone he’d like to see on her knees for him.

But she was a good girl. A kind, honourable Christian girl. Those girls never did anything wrong. Always saying their pleases and thank you’s. James smirked at that thought. He’d definitely be wanting to hear those from her. But a small part inside him thought she might be too innocent for that.

“What are you staring at” a smile crept on his face, and he was immediately brought out of his thoughts. God damn Yori.

“Nothing” he turned from the window and strolled over to the chair opposite Yori’s. He slumped down in the cushions, folding one leg over the other in his powerful manner, unbuttoning his jacket to allow space to relax.

“Where’s your coffee?” Yori asked as he sipped his. James sighed softly, looking down at the coffee stain on his jacket. It was black so it wasn’t very noticeable, but he knew it was there. The beautiful Mary had left her mark on him already.

“I had an accident” he showed Yori his stained suit and received a roll of his eyes.

“Probably not paying attention to where you were going and on that damn phone of yours” he scolded and James grinned, shaking his head. If only he knew what really happened. For now, Mary would be his little secret. They had only just met, and he wasn’t even certain how things would go from here. He might not even see her again, but he was hoping that wouldn’t be the case. All he needed to do was bump into her again and now that he knew she’d worked here, he had the perfect excuse.

“I’m a busy guy” he replied smugly. Yori took a sip of his coffee James brought him, smacking his lips at the strong taste and leaned back in his plush chair. All the resident’s rooms were the same, all with the same basic furniture and chairs, one they could sit in all day if they wanted to.

“That McKenzie woman has been causing trouble this week” he said out of nowhere and James raised his brows. Yori was always grumbling about her.

“Trouble how? He asked knowing he’d get a full-on rant about the hated neighbour.

“She keeps playing her TV too loud and she puts her trash outside my door” he scolded, and James chuckled. Yori was a character. A friendly man when you come to know him but at first sight, he could be an old grump, especially when he didn’t like someone. James experienced it for a month until Yori accepted his help and friendship. Since then, James came to visit him every week, always bringing a coffee or they’d sit and have sushi together. But James knew that probably wasn’t even half of the story. It was known that Yori had trouble with his neighbours. He was never a violent man, but he just liked things the way he liked them.

“Yori, you have to stop fighting with the neighbours” he said softly, careful not to raise his temper. The last thing he wanted was Yori scolding him and throwing him out his apartment. He’s the only man James would let do that to him.

“I’m not doing anything, it’s her. I was here first” he almost stamped his foot like a child having a tantrum, insistent that he was right. James felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he reached inside, pulling it out. It’s an order notification for a new phone for Mary. He did feel awful for breaking her phone and wasn’t going to take no for an answer from her. That would mean he had more access to her. When James Barnes wanted something, he wasn’t going to stop until he had it.

“So, how’s business?” Yori asked. James sighed loudly, pocketing his phone again and tapping his fingers on his thigh.

“Fine” he answered bluntly and Yori looked to him, raising his grey brows. James wasn’t one to talk much about business, especially when things weren’t going his way. Recently business had been frustrating for him. Shipments weren’t coming in on time, people were fucking him about, thinking they could do what they liked, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Every time you come here, and I ask you how business is going you say fine” Yori pointed out.

“Do you really want the details?” James tilted his head.

“I’m being paid for my silence I should be allowed to know what’s going on” Yori answered smugly, and James smirked. He had opened a can of worms.

Fucker

“Your silence is worth nothing Yori and I told you that money is for a rainy day. Business is good, we have a shipment coming in this Friday and it’s going to be a big one. Things just haven’t been going the way I want them but I’m hoping they’ll get better.”

“Save one for me, I could use it against her” Yori pointed to the wall, gesturing to his neighbour across the hallway. James laughed again, brushing a fallen piece of hair back in line with the others. Yori is a breath of fresh air for him, someone that can stand up to him despite him being the most powerful and dangerous man here in New York. He is the only person that could ever scold him like that and get away with it.

“How’s your arm by the way?” James asked.

“Fine” Yori passed it off.

“You should get someone to look at it and have someone come in when I’m not around” James suggested and Yori huffed with a grumble at the end.

“I’m not a child James I can take care of myself” he said firmly.

“I never said you couldn’t I just think you could do with an extra hand now and then” a certain shy little nurse would be a great fit.

“I don’t need anyone to come in” Yori snapped. He was insistent on not having anyone come and help him. He didn’t want to depend on someone to give him his meds or cook his dinner for him. He was an independent man and wanted to stay that was for as long as he could. James had started to become more concerned with his health. Just the other week he burned himself on the oven putting his dinner in, a simple accident but over the past few weeks James had noticed he was becoming more shaky and less able to grip hold of things. There was no shame in having a helping hand now and then but to Yori it was a sign of weakness.

Yori and James talked for a while longer. James didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t have Yori. It was possibly the only time he had away from his life where he could sit and talk about normal things and not the dangerous crimes he committed and the people he hurt to get what he wants. He was the only person who was quite normal compared to him. James checked his watch, realising the time and stood to tidy the coffee away in the tiny kitchen.

“I better run Yori, promise me you won’t get into a fight with Mrs McKenzie while I’m gone” he asked as he walked back out, checking the cuff of his shirt was level with his jacket and Yori scoffed, waving his hand at James.

“I won’t promise anything. Come Monday and we’ll talk more when I have that gun you promise me” Yori says, pointing his finger at James who grinned.

“We’ll see” he patted Yori on the shoulder before heading out into the hallway. James walked to the elevator, stepping inside, and pressing the ground floor button. His mind instantly wondered back to Mary. Lucky for him, she works in the same apartment complex that Yori stays in which means he’ll be seeing her a lot more. Perhaps he could ask her to check in on Yori when he wasn’t around. He’d hate to go away and come back to find Yori had injured himself severely.

His phone buzzed again, and he took it out, seeing several notifications. There were a couple of texts from Steve, a text from Lily, a friend of his and another notification for the new phone. He ordered her the latest one, a bigger upgrade than her old one and ordered a case and screen protector. She seemed liked the type to be a little accident prone and a screen protector was exactly what she needed. He typed in her address to have it sent there.

Anyone would think he was crazy for going to this much trouble over a simple crack in a phone for someone he didn’t even know. Heck, she could break it the next day she receives it and have wasted his time getting her a new one. But he wanted to, he wanted to get her the best. This girl has almost captured him in some way and now he was hooked.

Moving on to the text from Steve, he replied to them swiftly.

Jones says he hasn’t got the money, been trying to get it out of him for the last hour!

On my way back now, keep him there, I’ll be ten.

He swiped back and looked at the text from Lily.

Still on for tonight, Natalie is free if you want her, or I have something new for you ;)

He had forgotten about tonight. His fingers hovered over the phone, debating what to reply with.

I’ll let you know later.

James sighed and shoved his phone back in his pocket, leaving the elevator and walking to the parking lot. His car was parked around the corner. His sleek black jag had the perfect shine to it and not a single scratch or line of dirt. He slipped into the leather seats and wasted no time in firing up the beast and driving off to meet Steve.

‘Please I can get the money, just give me some more time” the guy pleaded, his body shaking from the cold, the shock, and the pure fright. James lazily paced back and forth, gun hanging from his fingers, jacket lazily thrown over a spare chair. The warehouse was empty except for the three men. The chair shook against the floor, echoing in the large building, the sound bouncing off the walls. Steve stood against a pillar, checking over his own gun. The end was covered in blood.

“I’ve given you plenty of time to get me the money” James replied, his tone monotone. He didn’t have the time to fuck about here. Sometimes he enjoyed it when they were squirming, pleading for their lives, begging for a second chance but not today. Jones was his name. He’s borrowed money as a loan from James and hadn’t paid him back. James was very serious about deadlines and if the money wasn’t back at the deadline, then there would be hell to pay.

“I know, but I just need another week and I’ll get it for you” Jones begged. His hands were tied behind the chair, his shirt ripped and discarded on the floor. blood dripped from his head, his nose, across his chest. He was a wrecked man and had taken a beating. Steve had a good start on him before James arrived.

“You think I’m here to give second chances, do I look like a fucking idiot here” James turned to him, waving his gun around with each gesture. The man whimpered, shaking his head. He looked like he was about to cry.

“I gave you a deadline and you missed it, you fucked up and now you’re going to have to pay the consequences” he held his gun up, finger right on the trigger ready to fire and Jones began to scream, yanking at the rope binding him to his fate, stomping his feet on the ground.

“No, no, please” he cried. Steve watched from the pillar, looking to James who sighed heavily, dropping his gun. He wasn’t one to give second chances but if he was being honest, he could be bothered to have this mess cleaned up and he wanted his money back. Jones popped his eyes opened, looking terrified up at James.

“Fine, I’ll give you a week and I want double” he ordered, his voice dark and heavy and Jones gulped, nodding his head. James had had enough, and he gave a short nod to Steve before turning his back and walking off. The whole thing had riled him up a little and he snatched his phone out his pocket, typing a quick message to Lily.

I’m coming tonight, have Natalie waiting for me.

Right now, he needed to blow off some steam and the only way he could do that was having a girl on his knees, completely at his mercy.

Chapter 4

Hey so I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments and if you want to be tagged. 

@pattiemac1​​

@sebastiansluts​​

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife​​

@abaker32

[sapphic-woes]

Sevika x Fem!Reader x Vi - The Knight, the Witch, and the Dane pt. 1

A/N: Don't ask me why;; I can't tell you. Here you are a saxon turned dane and a seer, working for your lord Vi...but you have a past :) (this is based off of season 3 of tlk)

Word Count: 2.5k. AO3 link

_________________

“You're perfect, Sev.” You whispered, planting a seed of hope in her. “No matter what your parents say.” 

In your own father’s meadow, the both of you lay, staring up at the clear blue sky. Sevika turned to look at you, and she thought to herself that the sun couldn't compare to your smile. 

“Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. To me…” Those turned up lips and pearly whites scorched her heart, branding your initials over the organ. It pained her something sweet, and as she listened to the bells of your laughter, the servant girl thought to herself that her heart would always burn for you.

“You are, and always will be, my greatest frie–”

Sevika snapped her eyes open, and she wished she could close them and see you again. How long will I hold on? Too many years had passed since she’d lost you. In the blazing heat of the fire, and the destruction of your hometown…

“Sevika! Stop sleeping in and come out–those heathen Danes aren’t going to kill themselves!” Sevika squinted to the sound of Vander's boisterous voice, much too energetic this early in the morning. Regardless, she rose, doing her daily routine before slipping into her armor and walking out the door. Immediately, she was met with an arm around her bicep, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Ran's cocky grin.

“Damn Vika, you look like shit. Couldn’t sleep?” Sevika shrugged, somewhat bent over as she let Ran stir her towards breakfast. As they walked through the various halls of Wessex's palace towards the knight's dining hall, the groggy woman sighed.

“Something like that.” These dreams only served to sap her energy, waking up either panicked, soaked in sweat, or longing for a girl she knew was dead. I don’t even remember her name. Sevika only remembered you as the daughter of the ealdorman. The ealdorman that, when the Danes arrived, was forced to watch his home be burned to the ground before being killed himself. 

At the time Sevika had been a servant girl, despised by her parents simply for being born. Later, she would come to understand why her parents fought so much. Me? A noble’s bastard? …How unoriginal. However, as a child Sevika had thought there was something wrong with herself to make her parents hate her, and you had shown her otherwise. 

You had been kind to her, and she had come to know what real care was because of your generosity. Yet when she needed me…Sevika grit her teeth as she pushed around the porridge on her plate, I did nothing but cower and run. 

When the Danes came, she’d left you behind. She could have helped you, done anything to protect you, and yet…

You tripped over a fiery piece of wood, falling to the floor as the house burned around you both. Sevika turned around, ready to grab your hand when a yell bellowed from behind. The Danes getting the last treasures of the house spotted you both, and having seen how nicely you dressed, immediately recognized who you were. You gasped, turning back to Sevika with a hand stretched out, begging her to help. You couldn’t raise yourself back up with your burnt leg. But if she could just–

To your horror, Sevika recoiled, not even looking at you. Her eyes were trained on the Danes not far behind, glancing at the door just ahead. She looked back at you one last time, eyes full of tears as she ignored your desperation.

“I’m sorry lady…I’m sorry…” With that, Sevika turned away, running out the door and leaving you behind for the Danes to capture.

That moment haunted her each passing day, driving her to train and become a knight. Every time you flashed in her mind, she vowed to kill ten more Danes. To save ten more people. Every time you whispered her name in her dreams, the number doubled. 

Yet despite her efforts, that wasn’t enough. Sevika still slept only to see the fire. To see your father and her parents dead. To see you, with eyes pleading with her to save you as you were dragged away, neck yanked back to make room for a bloody ax–

“Sevika? You’re not eating. Are you alright?” The knight looked up to meet Ran's curious, concerned gaze. They had met Sevika long ago, and for some reason decided to stick with her despite her grim attitude. Ran was the closest person to a friend Sevika had now, and they reminded her that she wasn’t a child anymore, let alone experiencing that day again. 

Instead, she was a knight of Wessex, a formidable one at that…and currently preparing for another inevitable attempt from the Danes to attack, come spring. Sevika sighed, shoveling down a spoonful of porridge with a grunt.

“Me? I'm fine. Just…fine.”

____________

You knew what you wanted. You couldn’t ask for it though. The sinister voices in the back of your mind were too loud these days. 

Hands caressed your body as if you were made of glass, and to her, you supposed you were. Your lord had a body riddled with tattoos and battle scars, expansive muscles moving hypnotically as she pressed against you. She treated you like something precious, and you both craved and despised her delicate touch.

You feared she would find something wrong. Something undeniably you...and when Vi inevitably did, what would she do?

Will she abandon you, just as that girl did before?

“My love…you’ve grown silent. Talk to me, what do you need?” Vi murmured, kissing your bare shoulder. You avoided her gaze, trying to brush your emotions away.

“It’s nothing. I was simply thinking of…well it’s getting warmer, spring is approaching and I should prepare to see. To know if we should attack–”

“No,” Vi’s voice was a barely audible whisper, yet it felt like a command nonetheless. “You’re hurting again, I can feel it…” Vi reached down to gingerly hold your hand, kissing the back of it.

“So tell me what I can do to make you forget. Let me help you.” It’s a trap. Don’t do it. It’s a trap. Don’t do it, it’s a–

“…Vi,” you nervously licked your lips, and she patiently waited, “...tell me you love me…” Your voice was uncertain and faint, and Vi instantly broke into a wide smile, kissing the corner of your eyes.

“I do.”

“You won’t–you c-can’t leave me…” Vi chuckled at your fretfulness, finding this needy side of you endearing. Usually, you were fearsome, but with her, she had managed to peel back enough layers and catch a glimpse of the truth. She kissed your shuddering neck as she nodded.

“You have my heart, my love. I can never imagine being without you.” Her voice was an anchor for your tired soul, and you crumbled into her warmth. Vi let you, continuing to breathe out praises against your skin. 

“You’re too beautiful. Too stunning. I ought to tie you up here and never let another person see you again. But then I wouldn’t be able to brag, or show off how perfect you are to me…” 

She knew that would make you melt, humming as you squirmed. You loved her praising words, but you were never good at taking compliments, rouge from your bare shoulders up to the tip of your ears. Vi smirked at you as if you were adorable, leaning down to trace her teeth over the peak of your breasts. Her hand snaked down to part your folds, coaxing out sweet sounds from you.

“You’ve turned into such a pretty mess, and you’re practically glowing. Do you love my words that much…or the idea of me tying you up?” Her teasing only warmed your skin more, and she laughed at your frustrated glare. Vi planted a kiss across your trembling stomach, murmuring into the skin.

“You’re everything to me.” The conviction in her voice made you shiver, moaning as she moved to kiss every inch of your waist, fingers slowly thrusting into your heat. “My love. My life. I wouldn't trade you for anyone else in the world.” Vi removed her soaked digits, fixing the backs of your knees over her shoulders. You looked down to see fierce, electric blue eyes as Vi bent down to pleasure you further.

“I will never abandon you, and if need be? I would travel across the world just to find you.” You gasped, shuddering as Vi drove her tongue into your heat, rough and relentless as she tasted you. The weight of her devotion was like no other Dane you had ever known–like no other person you had ever known. 

“You’re mine,” she rasped into your dewy folds, eyebrows knit in concentration, “and I am your–wai–love?” At her words, tears filled up in your eyes. Comically, Vi’s own eyes bulged out, faltering at the sight of those salty droplets. She recoiled immediately, gaze unreadable for a moment.

Wait, no don’t, I’m sorry–

Your panic was quelled in less than a second, surprised when calloused hands swiftly gathered your face in their grasp. Vi’s eyes searched your own, clearly worried beyond belief.

“My love, did I hurt you? I–fuck–I didn’t–” You let out a breathless laugh, feeling ridiculous for panicking. Emboldened, you pressed your lips hard against her own, pulling her into a deep, heated kiss. Vi’s tense muscles relaxed, and you hummed in approval, pulling away to smile at your lord’s flushed cheeks.

“Never. I am just…happy. You love me, despite me being, well, me. I’m in awe–

“There you go again.” You squeaked as Vi suddenly flipped you over, frustrated. “Belittling yourself. Acting as if you don’t deserve a thing. I won’t allow it, and if you insist on continuing?”

The sound of her drawer opening made your heart skip a beat, glancing over your shoulder to see Vi pull out her strap. Oh shit.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure you can’t speak again…right?”

____________

Some days later, when you were finally able to walk again, you looked into your lord’s future.

You saw Vi, triumphant. She raised his blade with a cry, and the horse before her fell–along with the Saxon king. The weak man scrambled back, he cried out for mercy–but your lord would grant him no such thing. Instead she raised her sword with a furious grin, bringing it down with one final swing…

…and the blood of the Saxon king ran red, pooling at her feet.

“Guards!” You yelled as you trudged through the murky bog water around you. One of the guards waiting began to look back towards you, and your voice broke into another commanding roar, “turn away, now.” Hastily he did, but you knew it was already too late.

“No man is to show me his face.” You reminded them both with a heavy scowl, stalking towards the one that had fearfully turned away. “No man is to see me before my lord.” 

You unsheathed your daggers, moving to cut the back of his knee. The tender flesh broke under your force, and he buckled, crying out in pain. You didn’t mind the sniveling man any longer, turning to face the other guard from behind.

“You will go ahead and remind the camp that my lord must be the first to see me.” The guard frantically nodded, voice trembling.

“Y-yes lady.” You lurked, silently walking around him from behind. His friend cried out in pain, seething in the mud. The guard before you knew better than to acknowledge him there.

“Once she has my message, they’ll be free to gaze.” He nodded once, and then he was gone, quickly speeding away to warn the camp. You shifted your eyes back onto the writhing man on the ground, raising an eyebrow as he desperately spoke.

“M-my lady, I swear, I did not look at you!” You ignored his pleas, kind enough to inform him of his fate.

“...I must take your eyes.” At that he flinched, more energetic than before.

“L-lady no–be merciful!” You scoffed, pacing as you looked down at him in annoyance.

“And your tongue.” His eyebrows narrowed at that, and in a last ditch effort he reached for his sword. Perfect. 

“You bitch! I-I’ll kill you–argh!” You threw one of your daggers, letting the weapon sink into his wrist. He cried out, but you didn’t give him time for his final breath on this earth to last, clambering on top of his body before bringing the blunt end of your remaining dagger down onto his eyes. 

Again and again you bashed the weapon into them, feeding off his cries of pain. Feverishly, you grinned as his warm blood splattered across your face. You bit your bottom lip as you flipped the blade in your hand once that was done, driving it up under his chin. Finally, the grating noise of his annoying yells cut off, and you breathed out in satisfaction. Unceremoniously, you yanked your dagger out of his head and rose, leaving the body there to head to your lord.

“Turn away!” You harshly spoke, striding into the camp. “Only the women may look at me until I have told my lord what I have seen.” As you walked, the men obeyed, turning away from you with haste. They knew doing otherwise would result in death, and although you were never one to turn away from it, you couldn’t kill every man in your lord's camp.

You marched forward, determined. Where is she? You were itching to see her, to tell her of her glory, to tell her of her destiny. Taking a turn, you abruptly stopped, surprised until you softly smiled.

Your lord was already on her knees, waiting for you. Vi was so frozen one would think she was dead, with her hands laid out over her knees and eyes closed. She meditated to become one with the gods, but that wouldn’t be enough.

You would be the one to bring her to it.

With little hesitation you brought your dagger onto your own palm, slashing across it. You strode up to Vi, walking around your lord until you stood behind her. You reached down to grab a fistful of her hair, jerking it backwards. Pale blue eyes snapped open, staring back up at you. The intensity of her gaze made you shiver as you held your clenched fist over her mouth, pouring your blood down past her lips as you rasped. 

“Vi my love, drink me and make my vision real. Let me offer you all my strength…” When the last drop fell she closed her eyes as if the taste of you was enchanting. The look made your stomach twist, and you hummed as you walked around to face her, kneeling before your lord. You delicately cupped her jaw in the palm of your bloody hand, watching her eyes flutter open. 

It is done. You leaned forward, and she knew what to do, devouring your lips in a burning kiss. You kissed her back with equal passion, the taste of her sullied with the metallic tinge of blood. Eventually, you pulled back, eyeing crimson smeared on her lips as you whispered.

“I see the death of a king.” Vi’s eyebrows furrowed, strong arms wrapping around you as she spoke just as softly.

“Which king?” You grinned, gleeful as you answered your love.

“I see…the death of Silco. The king of Wessex.”

[canonizzyhours]

I get what the writers were trying to do with Izzy in season 2, I think it was forced and not executed that well, but it made sense with the narrative they were going for. However, with the smaller budget, less episodes, and the way they ended last season, they pushed themselves into a corner and getting out of that corner was plain sloppy and they never recovered (with IZZY). They did their best with Izzy but his redemption arc never sat down well with me and it was very hard to go past it throughout the season and fully apreciate what they were doing with him. Tbh, I'm still mad at some of their choices.

I think the redemption arc falls short to me because of how it started. They made Izzy vulnerable right away (when he cried in Fang's arms), and not only did that make him more sympathetic, but the rest of the crew was also on his side, which if it made absolute sense narratively (and who could blame them? Their boss was traumatizing them) felt like a slap to the face as a viewer because... This guy? This asshole that treated the crew like shit, sold out Stede to the English, betrayed and threatened/emotionally abused Ed many times, was met with support and kindness? Right away? In episode 1? After everything he had JUST done? It was a betrayal as a viewer too. He was so happy to have Blackbeard back at the very very end of season 1, popping a fucking boner at having his toe cut off, and suddenly he was regretting it? And we had to be fine with it, nod along and ask for more? We didn't see any transition between those states, he just went from one extreme to the other, so it felt unearned and it was unfair of the writers to expect everyone to be fine with this.

Seriously, don't force me to like him, what is that? This isn't good writing, this is just writers forcing a character to be suddenly good so we'll shed a tear when he dies. I didn't cry. I didn't mind Izzy by the end but I won't be manipulated into loving him. So yeah, I don't think I'll ever be okay with the way they started his redemption arc, and it tainted the rest of his journey this season. The frustration that I feel with his arc will never go away.

Don't even let me start on how they handled the whole Ed/izzy dynamic that made Izzy look more sympathetic. The writers basically gave so many ammunitions to the Canyon by making Ed spiral so hard and dragging everyone with him on his self-destructive path. Don't get me wrong, I really LOVE what they did with Ed himself, he felt so human and compelling in those early episodes. What I'm NOT okay with is how they made Izzy suddenly vulnerable AND him being silent about his involvement in pushing Ed and literally threatening to kill him. That silence was LOUD and encouraged people to see this as a one-sided thing with Ed being the bad guy and Izzy his victim. There were some moments where he did recognize what he did, but it was always a passing comment and never felt like he really understood or owned up to what he did wrong, and the apology to ED only came at the very end of the season. 8 episodes of people wanting Ed's apology as if Izzy himself didn't do some fucked up things? Fuck right off.

I got so riled up writing this, can you tell? Feels good to let it out though.

#25.

[narcissusbrokenmirror]

Caleb said "our gifts are so rare, so special" as if not every ghost can do it, plus when Willie looked surprised after Alex said he could become visible playing with Julie.

However, my vision on Caleb is that he is a liar manipulative predator. so obviously he'd try to make the boys feel special and unique before trapping them into a spell.

So i think ghosts can have tons of abilities that all they need is time and practice to control, like when Alex learned how to hold things properly. So here is a list of things i think ghosts can do in the jatp universe:

Transportation: ofc. we've seen it. they poof in. They poof out. No biggie. Except how far it goes? How many ghosts can they transport? Can they transport lifers? it's probably the easiest ghost skills to have.

Objects Summoning: sure they can summon their instruments bc is attached to their souls but i doubt they can't learn to summom any object they put their mind to, if they can play it, they can conjure it. Could be learned through concentration, bc it might sound easy like poofing from place to place, but it'd involve traveling actual material objects through space, and since touching and holding stuff is also something u need to put your mind to it, certainly it also needs concentration.

Energy Control: Willie can flick the cop's vehicle lights. and flicking lights has always been a ghost thing. They could definitely learn that skill for special stage effects, watch the tv w/o touching the remote, pass messages, freak someone out, create a distraction, infinite possibilities. I also think they could absorb that energy within themselves and release it somewhere else.* It could be learned through concentrating and finding the right timing (i think Alex would master it.)

* if ghosts are made of energy and air there's no way they can't interact with other kinds of energy. magic and science are just like batman and bruce wayne.

Levitating: Caleb can levitate, other ghosts might as well. i think they could achieve by meditating and learning to clear their mind. (Reggie would kill it y'all) they could also lift other objects without actual touch them. imagine their final battle with Caleb and just as they are going to lose, Caleb falls on his face bc someone (reggie) tried to catch a heavy object and it accidentally hit Caleb's head?

Becoming Visible/Tangible: They can do it, we've seen it. ofc it was a magic move after a power of friendship moment, But, i believe they could figure out how to control who can see/touch them and who can't, my guess is that they'd have to visualize and wish to be perceived by someone. same goes for being heard or not. (Luke can work this one easy bc he has a need to be perceived) and since Caleb can make a whole bunch of ghosts appear and disappear, im sure Alex could make Willie visible for Julie.

Possession: im gonna guess this is some unethical shit bc u can actually damage someone's soul by trying to hijack their body. but im sure they could impersonate someone and absorb their energy, so u can control them better. Caleb is putting it off tho.

Energy Sharing: this one is very oc if im being honest. but imagine a ghost having such positive or negative energy from feelings he suppressed or expressed vividly before they died, so they could project that energy in a way that could affect people and ghosts around them? It might not be the best power bc its kinda nonconsenting, but it can also be hard to acknowledge they have a power like that.

That's mostly it. I dont think Willie knows all of the ghosts skills, i guess Caleb just lied to him as he did to the others, but he can groq out of it and learn. Sure some of these requires some focus and that might be hard for Alex, but learning skills can go different for everyone. sure one is gotta get it easier than others but these boys are musicians, they're used to combining their different skills together.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

I can’t stop thinking about...

How every single group of people shown to us in the show adaptation of TLOU - excluding Jackson - has adopted one if not more of the methods for control used by FEDRA that they all deemed to be so horrific. It’s just another way that this series plays with the themes of justification and morality and power, and another reason why this show works as well as it does on so many levels. Putting my rambles under the cut to save anyone from spoilers: 

In Kansas City, Kathleen promises her prisoners a trial, and then gives the command to have them executed without one. She also gives the order to have Perry burn the bodies instead of bury them, because its “faster”. We see both public executions and body burning in the Boston QZ, so this is straight out of FEDRAs playbook, which isn’t surprising considering how little time has passed since the rebel group took control of the city. But as an outsider, it’s hard to say “the good guys” won there, because those “good guys” immediately defaulted to the same things and actions that they rebelled over. 

In Silver Lake, David tries to dangle the promise of success and power in front of Ellie, just like the FEDRA officer did when he told her that one day she could be in charge. (I could write a whole dissertation on how extraordinarily fucked up and manipulative David is - DO NOT even get me started on the “violent heart” discussion - but for now I’m just going to talk about power dynamics. He’s very much one of those “this would all fall apart without me” kind of leaders, which diminishes the lives and contributions of the people in his group - just like FEDRA officers look at themselves as the heroes for keeping “order” (if you can call it that) despite the fact that it is the QZ citizens who do all of the actual work. It’s narcissism, and that never works as an effective leadership method. 

In Salt Lake, Marlene and the Fireflies pull the exact same shit with Ellie as the FEDRA officers do with that kid that wanders into the QZ. They tell that kid that everything will be fine, that they’ll get to have a treat and a toy and all will be well, when in reality they’re going to kill him. (Yes, I understand the child was infected and there was likely nothing to be done and termination was the “safest” way to control the spread of infection. I am highlighting the act of lying - and to an extent, handwashing - here.) This is the same thing that happens when Ellie shows up at the hospital. Marlene tells her that Joel will be fine, that she can see him after. She doesn’t tell her the truth or give her a choice. She lies so that she can force things to go her/their way, and, I think, to pat herself on the back for doing a good job of not scaring Ellie. (Again, I could go OFFFFFFFFF about Marlene in general but that would be a tangent all its own.) 

Jackson is the only settlement that we’ve seen that isn’t employing FEDRA techniques, and its no surprise that its the only one that is thriving. And if only 1/4 groups of people is able to keep from immediately turning ugly, then... well, I already agree with what Joel did, but this statistic only makes me agree with him more in that I’m not sure that world is worth saving either. 

[coveredinredpaint]

hi! my name is rex too and i think thats pretty cool

anyway, i was wondering if you had any tips on dressing feminine but like,,,, also being able to pass? or tips on being confident enough to not need to pass?

heyy that is pretty cool!!

im gonna be honest with you, i never really managed to pass before starting t. there were like 5 times ppl gendered me correctly but after that they immediatly "corrected" themselves. the only person who didnt was a toddler, i hope hes doing great.

all the tips and tricks ppl gave out never worked for me, never managed to figure out why, im thinking it was mostly my voice.

so i got absolutely no passing advice for you, but i can definitely tell you how to work on your confidence and say fuck you to societies ridiculous expectations

(it turned out longer than i distracted, i cant give concrete advice apparently my apologies)

tw: mention of bullying and some mental health stuff but nothing heavy

before i start i will say that it takes time. it takes time to learn and let go of this need to fit in. to learn to do your own thing even if you have to do it alone. to grow and learn who you want to be or are.

first we need to understand that expectations of how we should act or dress or look, whether based on our gender or not, are absolute bullshit. like straight up made up.

step one is kill the cop in your head. every time you judge yourself (or someone else) for something, ask why you care about that. most of the time its cause you have been taught in some way that what youre doing is not according to "the rules". this can be for the smallest things, like when i get really excited and stim about something i used to feel embarassed because "men dont act like that". sometimes i still feel that way. its not something you can just get rid of, so its important to actively affirm yourself that what youre doing is okay and that you are allowed to do what makes you happy.

dealing with yourself is already a hell of a challenge, but other people, that something else. i hope you live in an accepting area and i have heard many stories of people are queer fully accepted for it. but often thats sadly not yet the case. surely isnt for me at my school. there are people who are gonna make you feel like shit, who are gonna call you all the horrible things the voice in your brain calls you too. you are gonna wish you were "normal" sometimes, even if you dont really mean it.

going back to normal? going back in the closet? letting go of the clothes that make my feel better even on the most dysphoric days? fuck no, i finally started to get myself, my life back, im not sacrificing that for some teens whos names i dont even know. so you turn it around, no longer "why do they treat me like that" but "how dare they treat me like that" if they kick you while youre down you better bite their ankles and dont let go. most people who bully people who are "other" are terrified of what they see in us. we are living proof that their belief of how the world should work is very wrong. they call you a fag and a tranny? you better come to school next day in the gayest clothes you own. they call you an emo and bark at you? you better be dressed even more punk the next day. they may laugh at you, yell at you, even record you or push you around. it doesnt matter, they hold no power over who you are.

but please do not try and carry this alone. dont let yourself turn bitter. its is difficult to be treated like shit for simply existing. even when it doesnt hurt as much as it did its still exhausting. find someone to talk to, whether its a family member you trust, a friend, a mental health professional or other queer people online. its important not to suppress your feelings. get them out, by either talking about them or writing or making art or music.

know that its your life and you can live it however the hell you want. be kind to yourseld, be kind to others. if you are not where you want to be to right now you will in the future. cant really call it a life if you didnt live for it. it will get better, you just got to keep going and keep fighting.