#He was the blueprint but I set it on fire and threw it into the void (Teo's birth - colorised 1402)

[14dayswithyou]

If [Ren]dacted was more like Teo I'd be all over him in an instant 🥵 I love the look of clean rich boy clothes mixed with tats 😍 😍 😍 and the bonus points Teo gets cuz of the earrings haha

✦゜ANSWERED: Are we forgetting who Teo was based on....... and what kinda person Ren is.......

His original counterpart WALKED so that Teo could RUN

[toulousewayne]

Catching Strays Pt:111🐈‍⬛💎✨

Red Hood x male!reader who’s a cat burglar with a similar M.O. to Catwoman who’s on a crime spree.

Summary:Your a Cat Burglar who’s dressed similarly to Catwoman. You enjoy the thrill of the chase.

—————

Red Hood’s bike races down the highway, he weaves through traffic pushing his bike to its limits.

He glances down at the screen following the signal. “Please don’t do it.” He huffs as he rushes down a ramp off the highway and onto the main road of East Gotham, still rushing his way through the streets.

—-

Black Mask laughs to himself from his office, he just broadcasted to the GCPD and Batman that he wants 50 million dollars or he’ll release the bio weapon,and if Batman or any of his sidekicks come after him he’ll detonate the virus.

“You think they’ll come lookin’ boss?” Black Mask has his back to him looking at the Gotham City skyline. “The Bat ain’t stupid enough to come here, he’ll be looking for where I’m spreading the virus, good luck to him. I’ve got some insurance this time.” He chuckled.

—-

Y/n landed on his feet in the sewers, he stood up and looked around. He knew he could enter the building itself he’d have to work his way up. He began to run down the tunnels. The only sound was his footsteps and the sound of drilling. He came to an overhang and looked down to see Black Mask’s men setting up lines and tubes.

He crouched and walked for a moment before he noticed a table with blue prints and supplies.

What are you idiots doing?

He glanced at the blueprints and took a few pictures of them. He began to move along until he heard voices from around the corner.

“I’m in charge of this project not you, you’re just the hired muscle!”a man threatened, Y/n peeked around the wall and saw the man get picked up by his throat.

“You misunderstood enano, your boss has me overseeing this project. So get back to work,” he threw him and he landed close to Y/n who accidentally knocked over a bottle.

The man came into the light and Y/n saw Bane for the first time.

“Men, I think we have a rodent problem.” He chuckled and Y/n moved fast.

———-

“Red Hood what’s your ETA?” Batman’s voice filled his com. Red Hood raced into a turn, down a street and barreled towards Black Mask’s office.

“I’m nearly there.”

“Stop, don’t approach. He’s counting on that.”

Jason wanted to ignore him, he was seconds from reaching his destination but he looked up and moved as a gunshot nearly took his eye out. He turned down an alleyway as another gunshot range out.

“Snipers.” He growled.

“Any idiot how he can get in, Robin and I aren’t far from your location. He won’t get away with this.”

Jason shook his head, and noticed a open sewer grate,“Stray hasn’t done anything to Black Mask. He’s in over his head.”

“I don’t mean him, so long as he doesn’t kill him. “

“Well then you better hurry up because I don’t think Black Mask is working alone.” He noticed the room Stray was in and he was leaping out of the way of Bane’s attack.

Red Hood fired his pistol one of them nicking Bane’s shoulder. “Step away from him Bane, I won’t break those arms.”

Bane smirked, “So this is your pussycat, well then I’ll be extra careful with him.” He pressed the button on his wrist and Y/n watched in horror as he doubled in size, his veins extending and turning blue, his demeanor become more deadly.

“I’ll break you both into pieces!” Y/n back flipped away from him and leaped up to where Jason was.

“Friend of yours?”

“Not mine.” He fired at him which pissed him off more.

“Go!”

“I’m not running, from whatever that thing is.” He cracks his whip. The two smirk before jumping out the way of a barrel being flung at them.

Red Hood and Stray dodged out the way of Bane’s attack and would attack him while he was distracted.

Soon though Bane got ahold of Red Hood and through him through a wall sending him flying. Stray jumped and wrapped his whip around Bane’s neck. He jumped down from the rafters and choked him.

“I’ll—break—you.” Y/n took his claws and severed the tube in his head causing him to scream. He got down and moved away from him running to Red Hood who was getting to his feet.

“That’ll hurt tomorrow.” He dusted himself before turning to Y/n who wore an unreadable look.

“Let’s go.” He turned for the stairs. Red Hood followed him upstairs into the main hall of the office lobby.

“You can’t kill him, I get he’s your father—“ Y/n turned toward him and glared.

“Don’t, has many heads as you’ve let roll I don’t care what you or Batman thinks. He owns me.” Y/n sprinted for the elevator and slide inside it as the doors shut. Red Hood was now in a room with armed guards.

“Thanks Cat.” He ready his pistols but then the lights when out and the sound of glass shattered. Smoke soon engulfed the room and one by one they became picked off.

“Where is he?” Batman and Robin emerged from the smoke.

“Penthouse, we have to hurry.”

——-

“Honestly you and Nightwing have rather interesting taste in suitors.”

“Not now.” Red Hood sighed as they entered the penthouse. Batman went inside first and they took in the sight of a struggle.

“He’s gone.” Batman turned to the desk and saw it mashed to pieces. He picked up a black phone that had a shattered screen.

“Tt, a waste of a trip,it seems your friend is just as sneaky as Kyle.” Robin turned to leave the two men in the room.

“No blood, I think Black Mask was waiting for him. “ Red Hood stopped before turning to the giant window.

“The roof.” The two rushed out the room and toward the stairs until they were on the roof. Black Mask had Stray in a headlock as he was getting inside the helicopter.

“Get back Bats,I’ve got a hostage. I’m getting out of the city!” The helicopter was seconds from take off.

“Let him go!” Red Hood clocked his pistol but Black Mask did the same pointing it at Stray’s temple. Blood present on his face.

“You’ll die a painful death.” He spat at the man who pushed the gun farther toward his face.

“I’ll blow your head off kid, you’ve caused me a lot. And I don’t care if your kid I’ll fucking paint this rooftop red, you heard that Batman I’ll fucking repaint this roof.” He pulled them into the helicopter as it took off Red Hood ran to the edge and watched as it began to fly toward the city.

“We—“

“I’ve got that covered.” The Batplane came racing toward them and stopped at the edge.

“Robin follow us on the road, don’t lose Black Mask’s signal.” Batman ordered hopping inside with Red Hood joining him, they flew toward the helicopter.

——-

Stray is still in Black Mask’s iron grip and still manages to piss him off.

“What you not man enough to look at your son tarface.” Black Mask tightens his hold around Y/n neck.

“I will kill you kid, you maybe my flesh blood but your no kin of mine. I’ll drop from the chopper.” He spat. Y/n looked around but his weapons were seized and his mask too.

“Y’know you kinda look like her.” He chuckled watching the city as they passed by.

“Go Fuck yourself.” Y/n spat at him which earned him a hard shove. He nearly fell out the chopper but was grabbed by his collar.

“I really am starting to remember why I never wanted kids. “

The Batplane is now directly behind them and begins to fire at the helicopter.

Black Mask grabs an assault rifle and fires back at them. “I’ll kill you Bats!” Y/n yanks on Black Masks arms and he fires around the small aircraft even hitting the pilot. Black Mask yanks Y/n and stares at him.

“Your dead kid.” Y/n takes his claws and slashes Black Mask’s chest. He pushes Y/n full force and spirals down to the city below.

It’s all in slow motion, the bright and vast city surround him, window after window, balcony and neon signs fade past him.

He barely notices the figure the grabs him and grapples them to safety. It’s only once his feet touch the surface of the rooftop does his world stop spinning and he’s back from cloud 9.

“Did that bastard hurt you?” He looks up at the Red Hood who his clutching Y/n like he’s the only anchor he has to reality.

“No..I’m fine you caught me.” The look up and seen the chopper spiral and crashes into Gotham Bay. The Batplane flies toward the crash before returning flying farther into the city.

The rain starts again, though nearly move to get out of it. Instead Y/n lifts his hands to the help and removes it.

Jason’s face is back before him. The jet black hair matted to his skin, the white tuff proudly in the front it too was wet from sweat and the rain. The scar across his face that Y/n gently traced with his thumb. His eyes still covered by the red domino mask.

“Stray—“

“Call me Y/n.” He cut him off tracing his thumb now just below the bottom of Jason’s lip.

“Well if we’re on a first name basis, I’m Jason.”

“And somehow Handsome that suits you.” Jason pulled him close. He took his hand and pried off his last mask allowing Y/n to see those pretty green eyes.

“I’ve wanted nothing more than to hold you, you are something special to me, someone—I’ve never felt this before.”

Y/n grinned before pulling Jason’s head closer. “Well Red, I think that call that being smitten.”

Jason smirked, “Well my little thief I can say you’ve cracked the code to my heart.” Jason kisses him and the two men hold one another has the rain showers them from above.

When the finally break away his when Jason pulls away with a slight scowl.

“Did I do something?” Jason shakes his head at him press a quick kiss to his forehead.

“No, my family was listening and are killing the moment.” He slightly yelled the last part which caused Y/n to laugh.

“Well then I guess you better not keep them waiting.” He pulls Jason in for another kiss this one more passionate and gentle than the first one. He pulls away and smirks.

“I’m beginning to like this, a lot.” He grins holding his Stray.

“Well it’s just the beginning.” Y/n hands Jason his helmet and grins. Jason wraps his arm around Y/n’s waist.

“I think I know a guy who can get you some new gear, though he’s kinda broody.”

Y/n smirked, “Who your Father?” Jason blushes and looks away.

“Aww you want me to meet your Dad.” Stray tracks Jason’s emblem with his free hand.

“Babe I will leave you on this rooftop.” He fastens his helmet and grapples them away.

“You wouldn’t dream of it, you’d miss me teasing you to much Red.”

“I’m a lucky guy.”

“You sure are Red, you sure are.”

[bow-of-aros]

One Minute More

Summary:

What if Agent Curt Mega set the timer on the bomb for four minutes instead of three?

Yeah I watched Spies Are Forever again and was seized with a desperate need to make everything better. Also, this was supposed to be like 1k words at most. I just need them to be okay SO BAD. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!! Hope that y'all enjoy <33

Owen fell.

God, what had Curt been thinking?! He hadn’t, is what Owen would tell him. He’d gotten all arrogant and cocky and dropped a banana peel next to a safety guard that he’d dismantled like a fucking idiot.

Curt nearly threw himself down after Owen as he lunged to catch him. His arm was outstretched as far as it would go and he could feel the brush of Owen’s fingertips against his own as he fell out of reach. Blood rushed in his ears, but he could still make out the shape of his name on Owen’s lips before he connected with the floor.

For a moment, everything froze. Curt had the blueprints and the timer on the bomb was set for four minutes, three of which had surely passed by now. He should leave, Cynthia would expect him to put himself and the information over the life of who she thought of as merely an ally.

But then his eye caught on the banana peel that was still up here when Owen wasn’t, then on the still open safety barricades that Curt had forced Owen to leave, and everything snapped back into focus.

This was his fault, and he was not leaving without his partner.

The sound of the sirens blared through the air, punctuated by panicked screams and gunshots that were far too frantic to come anywhere close to hitting their mark. Curt refused to waste another second as he slid down railings and skipped steps, taking risks with even less abandon than usual.

He ducked as some pissed off Russian scientist took note of him and fired a few direct shots that embedded themselves into the wall right behind him. Curt dropped down low, quickly lined up his aim, and took him out with one clean shot to the head.

The stairs shook around him, his subconscious clock alerting him that he had maybe fifty seconds before the silo came down on top of him.

Stupid. Curt was being so stupid.

But then his eyes flickered down and caught on Owen’s prone form, kept from an even more fatal fall due to being caught on a half-closed safety guard. He’s never been more grateful for anything in his life than he was for Owen’s insistence to spare the rest of the silo from harm in this moment.

Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of him, and it was hard to tell whether it was from the burly guy throwing him into the wall, or the fact that Curt could’ve sworn that he just saw Owen draw in a breath.

A fist drives itself into his gut and he decides that it’s probably a mix of both.

“Get the fuck out of my way.” Curt doesn’t even bother with any of the fancy gadgets he has on him, opting for a swift uppercut that has the man stumbling back followed by pouring all of his fear and desperation into a kick to his chest that sends him flying over the railing.

He doesn’t even wait to see him fall past Owen before he’s on the move again, shoving, shooting, and stabbing his way through the hysteria.

That isn’t to say that nobody lands any hits on him. Curt’s pretty sure that he has at least two fractured ribs, is bleeding from a various assortment of knife wounds, and would guess that the burning across his arm is from a bullet. He can’t tell if it’s a graze or fully lodged into bone, and it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except getting to Owen.

Thirty seconds, a voice whispers, and Curt’s heart sinks.

There’s still two more sets of stairs to go down and several people intent on killing him coming up them.

An idea pops into his head, and Curt doesn’t let himself think twice before he jumps.

As he falls, his first thought is that Cynthia is going to kill him for this if he doesn’t die either from the impact or the sheer dumbassery of his actions catching up to him and he just misses the mark entirely. But he’s taken worse risks with less on the line before, and he can’t bring himself to regret it.

He was taught how to fall, which sounds silly, but in his line of work being thrown large distances for any reason was one of the many hazards he had to adapt to. It’s all instinct now, he relaxes as much as he’s physically able to before landing on the balls of his feet.

As the sharp pain of impact begins to shoot up his legs, he falls onto his side, bringing his arms up to guard his head as he rolls away from the edge.

Twenty-five seconds.

Curt scrambles to his feet and, yep, his ankles are twisted at best, but he’s going to wring every last drop of adrenaline coursing through him to get them out of here. He grabs Owen’s nearly fully-loaded gun and takes out the people on the stairs sill looking down at him in shock in quick succession.

Being the best shot in the American Secret Service has its benefits.

Twenty seconds.

Owen’s heavier than he thought he’d be. Dense muscle disguised by a lithe frame and the phrase dead weight hits Curt like truck. Sure, he’s carried Owen before, but he’s always had enthusiastic help from his partner.

That image is quickly pushed from his mind as the fear of never seeing it again seeps into him, and Curt focuses on steading Owen on his shoulder as he stumbles.

Fifteen seconds.

Each step sends pain roiling through him. The extra weight isn’t doing all his injuries any favours, especially the damage he’d wrought on his legs, but Owen’s called him the most stubborn bastard to grace the Earth and Curt intends on earning that moniker.

With one hand busy keeping Owen secured, the other one works to pull him up the railing as fast as he can physically muster.

Ten seconds.

Suddenly, Curt is hit with a sense of startling clarity. The room goes silent, everyone except him and Owen either gone or dead, the blaring alarm fading away and leaving only the staccato sound of his breaths as his company. The pain fades away and a sudden burst of energy surges through him.

Five seconds.

His legs pump in time with the ticking clock as he races up the steps. Curt swings himself around the final corner, just barely recovering his footing before crashing into a wall

Four seconds.

Just a few more steps and then Curt’s out the door with enough awareness to ensure that he doesn’t hit Owen’s head off of the doorframe.

Three seconds.

His legs threaten to buckle as the sky opens up around them, but he forces himself to keep going because, right now, every step counts.

Two seconds.

In a complete disregard of protocol, Curt doesn’t bother to speak in code when he flips on the small radio that Barb insisted he take with him.

One second.

“I need an emergency extract immediately. Owen’s—”

BOOM!

As they fly through the air, Curt’s last few moments of consciousness are spent tucking Owen into his chest and angling his back to the ground.

The cold Russian dirt rushed up to meet him and an unintelligible, high-pitched voice framed the impact that wracked his body.

At least I got Owen out.

And then it went dark.

Curt woke up and, for a brief moment, basked in the comfort of an actual bed.

And then Oh holy fucking shit why does everything hurt?!

His eyes shot open and immediately squeeze back shut after being assaulted with fluorescent lights. The second attempt is much more cautious, the bright room slowly filtering in through the gaps in his eyelashes before it felt safe enough to take it all in.

Immediately, Curt recognized one of the various American Secret Service medical facilities that they’ve managed to nestle in nooks and crannies around the world. It was only slightly better than a regular hospital comfort-wise, but at least the doctors and nurses wouldn’t question the various injuries that agents showed up with.

The steady beat of his heart monitor rings through the room with a faint echo.

Owen.

Curt nearly flung himself out of bed, tearing various tubes and wires out of his body and ignoring the muted agony that sears through him (Thank God for the painkillers he was definitely on because he would not be standing in any other circumstance).

Some sort of alert screeches down the hall, but it doesn’t matter because, at that moment, Curt’s eyes land on a bed on the far end of the room surrounded with even more machines than his was. He distantly heard the sounds of people running into the room, but he’d already staggered over and was looking down at a pale face framed by dark hair.

Owen looked like shit. He was covered in casts and stitches, essentially being held together by pins at this point. His breaths were shallow, the heart monitor beeping much slower than Curt’s had been. He looked uncomfortable, even in sleep, and his face was twisted up the way it normally did when he was having a nightmare.

It was the most beautiful thing Curt’s ever seen.

His legs gave up on supporting his weight and he slumped half over Owen’s bed, being careful to not jostle anything as various medical personnel burst into the room. They shouted at him, telling him to get back in bed, but he could already feel sleep calling to him, all energy seeping out of him with the knowledge that Owen was safe.

Curt managed to smooth a gentle thumb over the crease in his partner’s brow, sighing quietly when it seemed to soothe him into a deeper sleep.

He was out before the first doctor even crossed the room.

The second time he woke up wasn’t nearly as eventful.

It was a slow process, and almost pleasant, like gently sinking back into his body after floating weightless through the space between here and somewhere else.

And maybe he was a little high off the morphine they were pumping into him.

Curt turned his head to the side, exhausted body protesting every inch, until he was able to look at the bed beside him. Apparently the doctors hadn’t wanted a repeat of last time because now he and Owen were placed right next to each other, barely a foot apart.

His smile widened as he caught his partner’s eye. Owen was awake and looking significantly better than the last time Curt had seen him, a little bit of colour back in his cheeks did wonders.

Owen cast an amused look at Curt’s heart rate which had been steadily increasing the longer they gazed at each other before smiling back at him.

“Hey, Owe.” Curt’s voice was rough from disuse and he noticed a water bottle left beside him. He carefully opened it and took a sip, relaxing a bit from the relief on his dry throat. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you.”

His partner’s grin softened and, with a quick look around, he flipped his hand palm up.

“It’s good to see you too, love.”

Curt took the hint, sliding his hand into Owen’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. When Owen squeezed back, however lightly, it sent and overwhelming surge of emotion through him and he felt his eyes burning.

“It’s okay,” Owen didn’t bother asking what was wrong, they knew each other too well at this point to bother with pointless questions, “You got us out. I’m safe. You saved my life and I’m going to be okay.”

Even with the reassurance, Curt could help but choke out a few tears.

“You almost weren’t though. You slipped on my stupid banana peel that I left even after you told me to get rid of it. And I didn’t let you close the security barricades back up like you wanted to. And—” He cut Owen off when he tried to speak, “I almost set the timer for three minutes instead of four.”

A look of confusion creeped onto Owen’s face. “What?”

Curt let out something between a sob and a laugh. “Yeah. I was standing there, looking at the bomb, and I wanted to show off a bit, you know? I wanted that extra thrill that came with pulling off something that I knew was fucking stupid.” He was clutching Owen’s hand too tight, but he didn’t say anything. “And then there was this voice in my head that sounded like you. It said ‘Don’t do that, old boy. It’ll only get us into more trouble than it’s worth.’ I almost didn’t listen to it, but I had this nagging feeling that wouldn’t go away and, well, I’ve always trusted you. Even when you’re just a voice in my head.”

He gave Owen a watery smile and brought up his free hand to wipe away the tears rolling down his face. “You would’ve died, and it would’ve been my fault.”

“Oh please.” Owen scoffed at that, shooting him a mock-offended glare. “I’m better than that and you know it. It would take more that a several story fall followed by an explosion to take me out.”

He looked contemplative for a moment. “Although, I hope you’ve learned your lesson and plan on actually listening to me from now on. That banana move was moronic and if it had been what did me in, I would’ve put my body back together just to hunt you down and kill you myself.”

They both laughed at the idea.

“Yeah,” Curt said, “Your supervillain origin story: Slipped on a banana and then got exploded. They’d make a comic out of you for sure.”

Silence fell over them, the knowledge that they were both here and alive finally having the chance to properly sink in.

Owen’s expression shifted into something a little more serious. “Curt—” He cut himself off, trying to find the words, “Thank you for coming back for me.”

What a ridiculous thing to say. “Of course I—”

“Ah ah,” Owen tutted, giving his hand a gentle tug “I wasn’t finished.”

Curt leaned back as much as he was able to when already lying down and raised his eyebrows. Well? Go on then.

“You could have left. In fact, I’m fairly certain that Cynthia would have demanded that you do so in order to preserve your life and the blueprints that you had acquired.” Tears were now glimmering in Owen’s eyes, and he took a breath to compose himself before continuing. “But you didn’t. You put yourself in grave danger and through grievous bodily harm to get me out of there. Though Lord knows how you managed to pull it off with the time you had left.”

Curt remembers the sight of Owen sprawled out unnaturally below him. He would’ve done anything to save him.

A thumb rubbing over the back of his hand draws him back into the present and he look back at Owen. Owen with his crooked smile and his soft brown eyes and his hands that hold Curt like he’s something that’s meant to be cherished.

“I suppose that what I am getting at is that I love you, Curt Mega. I truly, truly love you.”

And… Wow. It was like fireworks erupted within Curt at those words. They hadn’t said them yet, maybe afraid that it would make what they had too real. Something that they couldn’t come back from.

But now, looking over at the man that Curt had spent the past few years fighting alongside, getting to know and treasure and love, he knew that he wouldn’t want to come back from it even if he could.

“I love you too, Owen Carvour. I’d throw myself down that silo for you even if I had set that timer for three minutes.

They stayed there for a while longer, simply basking in the glow of still having the other at their side, until a doctor came bustling in and Curt had to quickly withdraw his hand and tuck it safely away at his side.

She chattered at them and, while most of it was medical jargon that flew right over Curt’s head, Owen’s eyes were shining with something like hope, and he knew that they would get through this.

Then, Owen caught his eye, and the small quirk of his lips told Curt that he knew it too.

They could do anything as long as long as they did it together.

After all, spies are forever.

[enterwittyjokehere]

Homie that Richtofen x amab reader was fire you should write more (it’s so hard finding x male readers im in the fucking trenches sometimes I swear)

Not my best but I did enjoy writing it, and thank you, I do try to provide Gender affriming fanfictions for all, as a trans person I know that they can be very leaning towards cis women.

Anyway hope you enjoy :þ

Slumber and S*x

[Primis! Edward Richtofen x amab reader smut]

Content warnings:

[S*mnophilia k*nk]

[Age difference]

[Cnc play/k*nk]

[Amab reader]

[No pronouns used]

[Censored swearing]

[Heavy gay smut 18+ only]

"Verdammt-! Almost there... J-Ja-"

With a quick stutter of his hips Edward Richtofen hit his climax, his warm seed spilling out in and on your body. You pumped your own c**k in your hand breathing heavily, "Yes..."

With a jerk of your hips accompanied by a sharp slap to your ass by the doctor, who was stationed behind you. You fell forward, hitting your org*sm and rutting into your hand, moaning as cold hands found their way to your shoulders.

"F**k, Ed." You breathed out, earning a laugh from the man behind you.

"You should probably get some sleep, mein Schatz." The cold hands found your face, turning it to face the doctor's own. Placing careful kisses down your cheek and neck, "Thank you for helping me~"

A firey red blush crept onto your face as your older lover spoke, "O-Of course, shall we?"

The doctor looked at you quizzically as you extended your hand, "was?"

"Go to bed... You just said-"

"I said, 'you should get some sleep.' Nein, I have work to attend to." He said, swatting his own hand.

"Edward! You need sleep too." You scolded, pulling your trousers back up to your waist.

"Und I will, just not at this moment in time."

"Then, I'll wait." You said, taking a seat, next to his desk.

"Why when you could just lay on the mattress, right there-?" He asked, pointing to the mattress on the floor, with torn blankets covering it. Also known as the makeshift bed the two of you had been sharing.

"Because, I might fall asleep and not be able to keep an eye on you."

An endearing giggle erupted from the older man, "please lay down, Ich will join you as soon as I've looked over these blueprints, liebe."

"Nein." You spoke, mocking his mother tounge.

With an esperated sigh, he continued to study the papers he had found littered around the building, taking notes on a small piece of blank parchment.

The feeling of tiredness grew in your eyes as you laid your head against the hard wood desk, he sat at, looking up at him.

He truly was gorgeous from every angle you watched from. Your eyes grew dry and heavy, every blink lingering a little longer, your breathing slowed and you could hear your steady heartbeat.

One blink and suddenly you could no longer open your eyes, unknowingly slipping into a trance of sleep.

"You know, these are actually very flawed in desg-" Richtofen paused, as he glanced down at your sleeping form.

Head laid against a drawer of his desk, body almost limp, eyes closed ever so lightly and your lips were slightly parted, almost pouting.

Edward rolled his eyes, letting out a laugh, "Exactly."

He got out of his seat, wrapping an arm around your back and under your arm, while the other grabbed at your thigh. He pulled you close to his body and carried you bridal style to the small mattress, your eyes fluttered open as he set you down.

"....Eddie-?" You called, still asleep, turning over as Richtofen threw the blankets over you.

"Shh! I'm almost done, then I'll join you." He spoke quietly, he received no answer. He glanced back over to his desk and sighed, "it can wait."

He slipped out of his wrinkled white shirt and trousers, lifting the blankets up he curled around your sleeping body.

Soon the doctor also succumb to sleep, his hands wrapping tightly around you, pulling you close. Through out the night, the two of you curled and entangled into one another.

When morning rose, sun shining through the windows of the cursed infirmary. Richtofen's sensitive eyes, blinded by the morning sun, waking him from his slumber. Your head hidden from the light from his larger figure, he turned slightly but felt a friction that made his breath hitch.

"Verdammt-! Was ist heir- Oh nein!" He said, snaking a hand to his waist, feeling his er*ct*on against his fingers, "Scheiße-!"

The doctor moved slightly away from your sleeping form, but as the cold air bit into your sensitive sleeping skin. Your unconscious mind, moved back as well, searching for the warmth and comfort.

Edward couldn't help but release a small laugh at the thought of you chasing after him, even in your sleep, "Mein liebe, bitte-"

"...Ed-die.?" You groaned out followed by a string of unintelligible gibberish, tossing over onto your side to face the doctor.

Edward placed a soft and quick kiss to your forehead, groaning as his er*ct*on rubbed against the mattress. He glanced down to make sure he hadn't woken you, "if only you were awake, you're always so eager..."

You groaned out once more, almost responding to him, just a simple, "hmm" but hearing your voice right now was much more than the German could handle.

"Eager?" Richtofen thought, "meaning if I asked you- Nein! If you woke up with me rutting meinself into you, like some horny dog, you'd-" he paused, not sure what you would think.

"I'll just be gentle, ja? I won't wake you." He said to himself, his judgment highly clouded.

He lifted the blankets up, drawing out a small noise from you, he unzipped your trousers. Removing them carefully, "why can't you be normal und not sleep with pants on?"

His cold hands found your warm back, he whispered in your ear as he moved you onto your stomach, "I owe you after this, my little help."

Getting behind you, Edward took a deep breath in, he licked his hand, coating it in his saliva and began to carefully stroke his now aching c**k. He moaned louder than he realized, only to throw a hand up to his mouth, muffeling his sounds.

"Please, don't hate me for this.." He pushed himself into you, slowly.

"Ah-... Edw-ard-?" You called out in your sleep, your face schrunching together.

"Shh Shh, bitte, mein liebe, stay asleep." Edward said, laying ontop of you.

Moving slightly, just barely humping himself into you, but it was working, the doctor had to focus on keeping his moans and whines quiet. While also trying to be gentle as to not disturb your slumber, "Mein gott, du are perfekt-!"

Your moans got louder, as Edward pumped into you, every movement, rubbed your c**k against the mattress.

"Shh Shh, bitte." He pleaded, his eyes squinting from fighting the feeling of rising pleasure.

"Ich... just need a little more-" He pleaded, placing his hands on your hips.

"....F**k-" you groaned out, Edward heard and could no longer hold himself back as he was so near his climax, he began to slam into you. How he typically would, he breathlessly groaned out as he reached his need resolution. C*mming into you, he pulled out and laid back, watching his c*m drip down onto your legs.

"Really, Ed? What f**king time is it?" You groaned, adjusting your position.

"Ich-... Uhh I-I did not know you were-"

"Awake? Do you think that helps your case?" You asked, placing a hand around your own now hard c**k.

"A-Are you mad, mein Liebe?" Ed asked tilting his head down in shame.

"Nein, baby, of course not." You said, earning his attention. Edward snapped his head back up staring at you, your groggy expression sent a shiver down his spine.

"Ah-! Thank gott!" He placed a hand to his chest.

"Truth be told I think it's kinda hot, to be woken up by a older man desperately ramming into me in search of something only I can provide." You shared, an almost sadistic smile playing at your dry lips.

"Keep speaking to me like that und we won't get anything done today, mein little helper."  Richtofen teased, laying over you to gently kiss at your lips.

"Oh, we're going again, Ed, you got me all riled up in your wild frenzy." You whispered at him.

Drawing out a small growl as you took his hand to feel at your member, leaking onto his hand.

"Ah- ich- When you had said, that you when I umm-" He was at a loss for words.

"For now, let's use that pretty mouth to help, doctor"  you instructed.

"Jawhol!" He said, wasting no time in taking you into his mouth. He licked up your base and placed delicate kisses to the tip, his hands softly massaging your balls.

The warm feeling of his mouth fully enveloping you and his tounge moving over every inch sent your brain into overdrive. His large, slim hands touching your balls and thighs, kneading the soft, doughy flesh made you throw your head back.

You snaked a hand up in his hair, "Ah-! Yes, Ed- right there-!" Your moans were delicious but something echoed in his mind from earlier.

A whine replaced your moans, when he pulled his face away, "call me Eddie, bitte."

"E-Eddie, why?" You asked, knowing you really only called him that when you were by yourself, being far too insecure to call a much older man by such a childish name.

Although, to you it was quite the fitting name as you adored him and wanted a Nickname for him, so you used it typically only when pleasuring yourself.

"Sometimes, when your asleep or preoccupied you slip and call me it... I think it's cute when you cry out for me using such a name." He explained, the words slipping out one at a time as he placed kisses down your length to your balls.

He stopped to look you in your eyes, "Eddie... bitte." You said, keeping eye contact as he began to suck on the soft skin of your balls.

His hand moving to pump around you, the whole scene of him staring into his steel grey eyes, caused you to become harder aching after his hand.

You hips would jerk up into his hand, moaning, "Eddie, please."

His grip on your c**k tightened when he felt your balls contract, "you want to c*m for me? Ja Ja? Wait, baby, wait a little longer."

He let go, you swore under your breath at his unwanted action. He once again placed a kiss to the tip and took you in his mouth, "c*m for me."

His command was muffled by your appendage in his mouth, but the vibrations the command sent through you was enough to start the rise for your climax. You began rutting into his mouth, your hips stuttering as he choked around you, "f**k yes- yes. Oh Edward, f**k."

You climax into his mouth, moaning loudly as you collapsed under him, he wiped the access c*m off of his lips. Tasting his fingers, moving to lay beside you on the mattress.

"So... about earlier, that was going to be a one time thing, but-"

"We can talk about this another time, Ed." You dismissed, "Just be sure you get consent before trying it again."

Your demand was only met with a "Ja, ja, of course."

[frogandbird]

Ch 22 - Bug Busters (Re-write part 2) - Ch 24

“Japanese”

Raph was pacing the layer, checking in on each of his siblings each time he passed whatever room they happened to be in.

El was the current victim of his attention. Ela and Karai where in the dojo, scrolls spread out around them as the pair took notes and marked down changes.

Karai, strangely, wasn't taking up much of Rraphs pent up worry and adrenaline. She sat there, scroll in hand and old book propped open to her side as she typed on a computer.

El had much the same setup, just with two books in addition spread around her.

“Raph, i am going to kick you out of swear to god.”

Raph winced as Karai snorted. Raph was pacing the layer, checking in on each of his siblings each time he passed whatever room they happened to be in.

El was the current victem of his attention. Ela and Karai where in the dojo, scrolls spread out around them as the pair took notes and marked down changes.

Karai, strangely, wasn't taking up much of Rraphs pent up worry and adrenaline. She sat there, scroll in hand and old book propped open to her side as she typed on a computer.

El had much the same setup, just with two books in addition spread around her.

“Raph, i am going to kick you out of swear to god.”

Raph winced as Karai snorted.

El continued. “this is like the sixth time in an hour. Go bug Mikey if whatever is bugging you means you’re attached to someone's hip.”

Raph grumbled as he stood. “He's painting with Chompy.”

“all the more reason, now out.” El waved her hand to the door as Karai chuckled.

Raph groaned, but left all the same. El was fine, she was with Karai. Mikey was with Chompy, the little fire turtle having wanted to play with ICK. Donnie was unaccounted, the lab locked.

Raph paused halfway to the kitchen, glancing at Mona and April on the couch. The pair were working on laptops, Mona helping April with a work thing as xe worked on some form of blueprints.

As worried as he had been over his siblings, not once had he been worried for his partner or any of his other family. Even still, the worry for his siblings felt unwarranted, like they were just the turtles close to him and not the ones he should be panicking over.

Raph growled, shaking his head. Everyone was fine. their worries should have left a long time ago. just, check on Miley, then Mona and April, then get into the lab to check on Donnie.

With his plan set, Raph walked the last few steps to the kitchen.

Mikey was cooking something over the stove, humming along to something playing on his headphones. Chompy was playing with playdough, happily molding shapes into the surprisingly soft dough.

Mieky looked up as Raph knocked on the doorframe, blinking them smiling at him. The scales around his eyes were scrunched up in slight worry. Mikey relaxed upon seeing him though.

“All good bro?” Mieky asked, head tilting. “You’ve checking in on us, like, three times already.”

Raph sighed, leaning on the doorframe. “I dont know.”

Mikey laughed slightly. “Bad feelin’?”

Raph nodded. He paused. “You getting it too?”

Mieky made a so-so motion as they pulled a pan off the stove top.

Raph grunted, raising an eyeridge.

Mikey clicked a few times. Or at least made the motions, even if Raph couldn’t hear them. “It’s like, something at the back of my mind. Like when El trains too much one day or Donnie trying something out and its glowing a concerning red.”

Raph snorted.

“How bad is it bugging you?” Mikey asked, making Raph sigh.

“Like we’re all doing something stupid exep’ I’m El watching it all go down.” Raph moved over to Chompy, sitting next to the little turtle.

“Like, skateboarding trick stupid or taunting Kraang bot stupid?” Mikey asked, still moving about the stove.

Raph paused. It wasn't the latter, nor the first. He sighed. “Meeting a new mutant and not knowing if there darous-“

Panic shot threw him, something wasn't right, something was wrong-

He was at Donnie's door before he knew he had moved, yanking at the labs metal doors. Surprisingly they gave, letting him in with little force.

Donnie was in the lab, sitting still as they watched a screen.

Raph moved closer, grabbing at his twin's remaining arm. Donnie leaned into him, hissing. Raph brought them close, looking at the screen.

The screen was just a normal map, a few red blips on it. It was normal, yet Donnie was shaking like a leaf in his hold.

The adrenaline began to fade, but Donnies small whines made him cling closer, both waiting for something, anything to happen.

Finally Donnie moved, head bonking into Raphs chin. Raph grunted, not wanting to let go.

“Raphie, im ok.” Donnies voice had a wavor to it, like he wasn't sure of it himself.

Raph growled. The panic that had come with the adrenaline was fading slightly. It was still there, like he had seen something. like something had happened.

Donne patted Raphs arm. He was still shaking slightly.

Mikeys vice could be head, though Raph couldn’t make it out fully.

Donnie yelled abck. “I think so? Raphs being clingy!”

Raph let up on his growl, shaking his head. “I'm not being-“

“You totally are bro.” Mikey pulled at Raph. “Come on, turtle pile so we can fugure out what's happening.

—

Donnie typed away at their computer, legs propped on Raph's shell as he and El talked. Mona sat next to him, her own computer on zes lap, though she was more focused on what El was talking about.

April and Meiky were nearby, the first holding Chompy as they all sat in the pit. Karai, in her human form, also had her legs propped on Raph's shell, opposite Donnie. Mikey had made them all pile in after Raphs little show, demanding that something must be happening.

El had become concerned once it was clear she was the only one of the turtles not feeling anything, though April, Mona and Karai had all spoken about not feeling anything ether.

Donnie hissed as the emotions he should not be feeling made themselves known once again. Less fear this time, just pure adrenaline.

Mikey and Raph both paused, earning looks from everyone else. Mona rested a hand on Donnies arm, earning a small smile form them. Xes face was wrinkled with concern.

El tapped Mikey on the arm as well. Mikey looked concerned, then shook themselves out.

“All good sis,” Meiky paused. “It left.” They pouted slightly. “Raphie, Dee?”

Raph goraned, grabbing a pellow and pulling it over his head. “I'm murdering whoever is making this happen.”

Donnie nodded, though the feeling was already fading.

El goraned, falling into Aprils lap, her head in her hands. April made a yelping noise, though remained mostly still as El hissed.

Mona spoke, taking Chompy from Mikey. “This is one of th’ many changes’ from the dimensions merging, yes?”

Donnie blinked. “Holy shit-“

El and Meiky both looked up, glancing at each other. Raph lifted the pillow from his head, looking back at zim. April tilted her head. Karai looked up from her phone.

“It’s possible that what we’re feeling is what our alteners are feeling,” Donnie cut themselves off, pulling up a new word document.

April clicked. “Then why aren’t me and El feeling anything? Or Casey, he would have called if something was happening to him.”

Donnie shrugged, writing down April's note.

“Could it be that only their Donnie, Raph and Mikey are doing stupid things?” El spoke, nodding at each of the turtles in turn.

“No way bro, I think I'm feeling what Raphs feeling.” Mikey shrugged, wincing in sincerity with Raph. “Ow.”

El and Donnie both spun on Meiky, making them put their hands up.

Raph hissed again, rubbing at one arm. “Whatever they’re doing, they should STOP IT.”

Donnie continued writing, holding up one foot as April began to talk again. He needed a moment to keep up, their one arm not moving over the keyboard fast enough.

Donnie dropped their foot, letting April speak up.

“Even so, how am I not feeling anything? I'm the only one whos meet my alternate.”

El hummed. “Maybe she’s not part of whatever is happening?”

“I doubt both their Leo and April are not part of this if Raph is so affected.” Mieky shrugged. “Also, like, who's met turtles or mutants in the last few months?”

There were a few moments of silence, say for Donnies typing as everyone thought back on the last few months.

El clicked at the same time as Raph, who went from laying down to sitting in a moment as he shouted.

“ONIX THAT LITTLE FUCKER-“

Donnie recoiled their legs, blinking up at Raph. Karai was forced to do the same, putting her phone down.

El spoke, her voice soft. “You met a turtle?”

Raph began digging in the blankets, presumably for his phone as he spoke. “Yeah, except she’s fucking masive and dosent carry any sai so forgive me for not putting the pieces together sooner.” he was growling again.

El nodded. “Ok, Don?”

Donnie hummed, pausing his typing. “I’ve meet a mutant a few weeks ago, but I don't..” He trailed off. Had they been a turtle? The burns. “I think-“

Donnie shook his head, moving to dig out older files, looking for the record of the not-burns.

El sighed as Meiky hummed. Mona handed Raph his phone, evident by the ‘thank you’ xe got.

El spoke up again. “It’s possible that I might have?”

Donnie looked up at his sister, who was still in April's lap, as she glared at the ceiling.

“A few weeks ago, when me and Mike went to the hidden city and that thing exploded,” El nodded at Meiky as they shivered. “I went to meditate after that, and I woke up in a weird black space.”

Donnie nodded. He remembered El telling him about the strange place, and the strange colors. He switched to digging out those files as a thought occurred to them.

“And you think that the silver and red was there Raph and Splinter.” Donnie continued for her, finding the files quickly.

“Considering the small groups of other colors, yes.” El sighed, her hands moving to her chest as she played with one of the ribbons on her shirt.

“Wait what happened?” April spoke, looking down at El as Donnie finally found the not-burn note he had made weeks ago.

“There was a little gold blob of energy that smelled like Mikey, ‘cept it was all small and looked hurt, and I could see something in the distance so I went looking for help.” El sighed as Meiky looked lost in thought.

“I found a Silver form, I can't tell you what they looked like besides being silver, with red, blue, purple, orange and green colors around them.” El nodded at each of the colors owners in her home as she continued.

“The silver one spoke and followed me, the red one with them.” She hummed something. “It, I couldn’t tell you what they said.”

Mikey made a sound, like they thought of something.

“Anyway, the silver followed me back to what I was assuming to be Mikey and then picked them up. They spoke again and the red one separated a bit, then the smaller part of them went to Mikey.” She paused again as Mikey made another sound.

“I think I remember that!” Mieky chirped.

Donnie sighed and made a new note under Els document, looking at Mikey to get them to continue.

“I went to bed all drained and stuff then when I woke up it was like I had something resting on my shoulders for a few hours and I felt all energized and sparky then it went away.” Mikey rambled, speaking faster than Donnie could type.

Karai spoke up. “A mind place possibly?”

El shrugged best she could. “You would know better than me.”

Everyone sat in silence for a few more moments, most lost in thought as Donnie and Raph looked through and typed on their devices.

April spoke up once Donnie stopped typing. “Don? What happened to you with your encounter?”

Donnie sighed. “Oh you know, found a mutant in the junkyard, then a fire happened, dragged the kid away, felt the burns they got then went home. Normal day.”

He waved one hand. Then sighed. “I think they were a kid, even if I couldn't make out much in the dark. Had something they called a ‘Battleshell’ though.”

Mona gave a tired sounding sigh. “Sounds’ like something not many turtles would need.”

“Not unless they were a soft shell.” Karai picked up her phone again.

“Soft shelled turtles?” Mona asked, speaking slowly as she tried to figure out if it was a joke or not.

“Not all turtles had hard shells, some had soft shells. That or this one has a fucked up shell like Mike.” Karai began typing.

“Hey!” Mikey clicked, sticking his tongue at Karai.

Karai returned the gesture.

Raph shrugged as he finally found whatever he was looking for. A phone was handed to Donnie, making them look up.

They took the phone, letting out a startled hiss at the sight of the photo that had been pulled up.

[Photo alt: It was a selfie taken by Raph, his mask pulled down around his neck. Another turtles head was in frame, a dark black-red bandana on their neck as well. They had dark scales, setting darker closer to the spikes on top of their head and lighter near their mouth. Spike flared on either side of their cheeks, scars and red scales covering their face as tusks broke their face into a grin.]

“Holy shit.”Donnie looked at the photo.

Mona sucked in a breath over his shoulder as they sent the photo to himself, saving it to the file.

“The poor’ thing..” Mona took the phone, eyes taking in the turtle.

“Let me see!” Mikey made grabby hands for the phone, showing both El and April the phone as it was handed to them.

El brought a hand to her mouth as April made a trilling sound. Mikey was just straining, no sound or clear emotion on his face.

Donnie saved the new file, then responded it and started a new section. “Ok, so, to recap.”

They looked up in time to see Karai take the phone from Mikey, her eyes widening.

“When this whole universe bull stated to happen, it was only a guess on my part. then Raph or El, one of you two met the other Raph,”

“Onix.”Raph grunted.

“Met Onix, then the other, then I had my encounter with who i am going to assume was there Donnie. Then April met her alternate and now we are feeling what are alrenets are feeling with the exception of Mikey, who is feeling what Onix is feeling.”

Rpah nodded as he took his phone back, everyone else making various motions or sounds of agreement.

Donnie groaned, dragging his hand down their face. “Wonderful.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What are you’ doing love?” Mona held a laugh in zer voice.

“Texting taht fucker because I want to cry and it’s her fault.” Raph was growling. Mikey sighed.

“So are we just gonna ignore all the glow-y magic stuff?”

“MIKEY!”

[aladhammuh]

"The Echoes of War"

Ahmed had always dreamed of becoming an engineer. He spent countless hours poring over textbooks, sketching blueprints, and imagining a future where he could help rebuild the crumbling infrastructure of his country. His college was a sanctuary, a place where he could escape the hardships of daily life and immerse himself in learning. He had a close-knit group of friends, and despite the conflicts brewing outside, his world was one of hope and ambition.

But everything changed the night the war came to his city.

It began with a distant rumble, like thunder on the horizon. Ahmed was at his desk, working on a project for his civil engineering class, when the first explosion rocked his neighborhood. The lights flickered, and then the power went out. His heart raced as he heard the shrill cries of his neighbors and the unmistakable sound of artillery fire. The war, which had once seemed far away, had arrived at his doorstep.

He grabbed his backpack, threw in a few essentials—his phone, a notebook, some clothes—and rushed downstairs to find his mother and younger brother. They had already gathered in the hallway, fear etched on their faces. His mother clutched a small suitcase, her hands trembling.

“We have to go,” Ahmed said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.

They fled into the night, leaving behind the home that had sheltered them for generations. As they made their way through the war-torn streets, Ahmed couldn’t help but glance back at the college campus in the distance, its once vibrant buildings now shadowed by the glow of fires burning across the city.

Days turned into weeks as they moved from place to place, seeking refuge wherever they could find it. The war consumed everything in its path—homes, schools, hospitals—until there was little left but rubble. Ahmed’s dreams of graduation, of becoming an engineer, seemed like distant memories.

They eventually found themselves in a refugee camp on the outskirts of the city. It was a place of survival, not of hope. The tents were crowded, and the food scarce. Ahmed tried to continue his studies in whatever way he could, scribbling equations in the margins of newspapers or using broken pieces of chalk to draw diagrams on the cracked walls of abandoned buildings. But it was never the same.

One evening, as the sun set over the camp, Ahmed sat with his brother near the edge of the tent, watching the horizon. His brother, just twelve years old, had always looked up to him. But now, the light in his eyes was dim, replaced by the weight of loss and uncertainty.

“Do you think we’ll ever go back?” his brother asked quietly.

Ahmed stared at the distant city, now a ghost of what it had once been. He wanted to say yes, to give his brother some semblance of hope. But the truth was, he didn’t know. The war had taken everything from them—their home, their friends, their future.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice heavy with sorrow.

As the days passed, Ahmed found it harder and harder to keep going. His health began to deteriorate, worn down by the stress, the lack of food, and the constant fear. The once vibrant and hopeful college student was now a shadow of himself, lost in a war that had no end in sight.

One night, as the camp slept, Ahmed lay awake, listening to the wind rustling through the tents. He thought of his friends, scattered across the country, and wondered if they were still alive. He thought of the future he had once envisioned, now shattered by the war. And he thought of his mother and brother, sleeping beside him, and the burden he carried of trying to protect them in a world that had become so cruel.

The next morning, Ahmed didn’t wake up.

The war had claimed him, not with a bullet or an explosion, but with the slow, relentless erosion of everything that made him who he was. His family buried him in a small grave outside the camp, with only a simple stone to mark the place where he now rested.

In the days that followed, his brother took up the notebook Ahmed had left behind. He traced the lines of equations, the diagrams, the dreams of a future that could never be. And in those pages, he found a glimmer of the hope that Ahmed had once held so tightly.

Perhaps, one day, when the war was over, he could rebuild what had been lost.

One of about 2 million stories .

[my-weird-news]

🚨 LISK Breakthrough: Is Rex Heuermann the Long Island Serial Killer? 😱

The Long Island Serial Killer: A Comedy of Murders and Missteps He murdered, oh let's say four, no wait, ten! Wait, could it be even more? This guy was like a twisted Martha Stewart of crime, leaving his victims strewn about like yesterday's trash along a prime beachfront property. Just when you thought the only terror on Long Island was bumper-to-bumper traffic, in walks the pop culture boogeyman himself: LISK, the Long Island Serial Killer. Hashtag #KillerCatch So picture this: a swarm of cops descends on the charming village of Massapequa Park, a place that sounds like it's straight out of a cartoon. Rex Heuermann, a seemingly harmless architect, gets the spotlight. Like, seriously, an architect? Did he build his victims a custom coffin? Anyway, they nabbed him outside his Manhattan office, probably wondering if his blueprints included a secret dungeon. Architecture or Serial Killer 101 According to the New York Post, our boy Rex first caught the authorities' attention a year back, thanks to a DNA match. Yep, even criminals get caught up in that 23andMe wave. Apparently, Rex's blueprints were all over the scene of the first set of LISK's victims, or as they're affectionately known, "the Gilgo four." These victims were the trendsetters, discovered all the way back in 2010 around Gilgo Beach. So Rex gets hauled into court, probably wearing an architecturally questionable outfit, and pleads "not guilty." I mean, it's the go-to defense for serial killers these days. "Oh, those weren't my DNA molecules on the murder weapon, Your Honor. I swear!" Unraveling the Murder-y Yarn Now, here's where things take a turn that even our twisted killer didn't see coming. The news of Rex's arrest set social media on fire. The true crime buffs were in their element, celebrating like they'd just found a hidden Easter egg in their favorite video game. You know you've got a crazy case on your hands when people are more excited about the investigation than the next season of their Netflix binge. The LISK case is like the Bermuda Triangle of crime stories. It's so complicated and confusing, you might actually forget the plot of Inception trying to wrap your head around it. Our villain targeted sex workers, and honestly, that's like aiming for a bullseye the size of Texas. These folks are often marginalized and overlooked, which, come on, doesn't exactly help with the investigation. But wait, there's more! Corruption and misconduct from a former police chief, who apparently thought he was above the law, threw some extra chaos into the mix. And then there's the killer himself. Did he change his MO? Did he have a sidekick? Did he moonlight as an architect by day? The intrigue just keeps piling up, like a Jenga tower of murder mysteries. A Comedy of Victims Let's take a moment to admire the variety of victims in this dark comedy. Shannan Gilbert was our aspiring singer who wandered around Oak Beach like a lost diva before meeting her unfortunate fate. And oh, the "Gilgo four" – Melissa, Amber, Maureen, and Megan – sounds like the cast of a quirky crime sitcom. But wait, there's more! Dismembered bodies, partial remains, and enough twists to put a pretzel factory out of business. The mysterious "Fire Island Jane Doe" was found more times than Waldo in those books. We're talking multiple Jane and John Does, like they were having a block party in the afterlife. Architect of Chaos Enter Rex Heuermann, our unexpected antagonist. He's a local architect, which makes you wonder if his "blueprints" involved a few too many secret compartments. Imagine being neighbors with a guy who just might've had a side hustle as a serial killer. "Hey, Rex, can you check my foundation?" "Sure, just don't check my foundation, wink wink." Rex's arrest led to a frenzy of speculation. People were dissecting every little detail, trying to connect the dots like they were playing a murderous game of Connect the Dots. DNA evidence, internet searches, and more drama than a soap opera – this case had it all. Whodunit? Or Is It "Who-Dones-It?" So, as Rex sat in court, probably wondering if his cellmate would appreciate his architectural skills, a question loomed large: Are there more victims? Is this a one-man show, or are we dealing with an ensemble cast of serial killers? It's like the Long Island version of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" – "Is it A) Rex, B) Rex's evil twin, C) A group of copycat killers, or D) All of the above?" And you thought deciding where to eat for dinner was complicated. Conclusion: The Architect of Mystery In the end, the Long Island Serial Killer saga is a true crime roller coaster with more twists than a bag of pretzels. Rex Heuermann, the unexpected architect of chaos, is in the hot seat. Married, with kids, and possibly a secret dungeon – the perfect recipe for a twisted crime novel. But this ain't fiction, folks. It's a real-life murder mystery that had New Yorkers on the edge of their subway seats. So as we await more twists, turns, and revelations, one thing's for sure: Long Island's beaches might be a hot vacation spot, but they're also home to some pretty chilling stories. Who needs palm trees and piña coladas when you've got mysterious belt insignias and a "big talker" neighbor with a dark side?# The Long Island Serial Killer: A Comedy of Murders and Missteps He murdered, oh let's say four, no wait, ten! Wait, could it be even more? This guy was like a twisted Martha Stewart of crime, leaving his victims strewn about like yesterday's trash along a prime beachfront property. Just when you thought the only terror on Long Island was bumper-to-bumper traffic, in walks the pop culture boogeyman himself: LISK, the Long Island Serial Killer. Hashtag #KillerCatch So picture this: a swarm of cops descends on the charming village of Massapequa Park, a place that sounds like it's straight out of a cartoon. Rex Heuermann, a seemingly harmless architect, gets the spotlight. Like, seriously, an architect? Did he build his victims a custom coffin? Anyway, they nabbed him outside his Manhattan office, probably wondering if his blueprints included a secret dungeon. Architecture or Serial Killer 101 According to the New York Post, our boy Rex first caught the authorities' attention a year back, thanks to a DNA match. Yep, even criminals get caught up in that 23andMe wave. Apparently, Rex's blueprints were all over the scene of the first set of LISK's victims, or as they're affectionately known, "the Gilgo four." These victims were the trendsetters, discovered all the way back in 2010 around Gilgo Beach. So Rex gets hauled into court, probably wearing an architecturally questionable outfit, and pleads "not guilty." I mean, it's the go-to defense for serial killers these days. "Oh, those weren't my DNA molecules on the murder weapon, Your Honor. I swear!" Unraveling the Murder-y Yarn Now, here's where things take a turn that even our twisted killer didn't see coming. The news of Rex's arrest set social media on fire. The true crime buffs were in their element, celebrating like they'd just found a hidden Easter egg in their favorite video game. You know you've got a crazy case on your hands when people are more excited about the investigation than the next season of their Netflix binge. The LISK case is like the Bermuda Triangle of crime stories. It's so complicated and confusing, you might actually forget the plot of Inception trying to wrap your head around it. Our villain targeted sex workers, and honestly, that's like aiming for a bullseye the size of Texas. These folks are often marginalized and overlooked, which, come on, doesn't exactly help with the investigation. But wait, there's more! Corruption and misconduct from a former police chief, who apparently thought he was above the law, threw some extra chaos into the mix. And then there's the killer himself. Did he change his MO? Did he have a sidekick? Did he moonlight as an architect by day? The intrigue just keeps piling up, like a Jenga tower of murder mysteries. A Comedy of Victims Let's take a moment to admire the variety of victims in this dark comedy. Shannan Gilbert was our aspiring singer who wandered around Oak Beach like a lost diva before meeting her unfortunate fate. And oh, the "Gilgo four" – Melissa, Amber, Maureen, and Megan – sounds like the cast of a quirky crime sitcom. But wait, there's more! Dismembered bodies, partial remains, and enough twists to put a pretzel factory out of business. The mysterious "Fire Island Jane Doe" was found more times than Waldo in those books. We're talking multiple Jane and John Does, like they were having a block party in the afterlife. Architect of Chaos Enter Rex Heuermann, our unexpected antagonist. He's a local architect, which makes you wonder if his "blueprints" involved a few too many secret compartments. Imagine being neighbors with a guy who just might've had a side hustle as a serial killer. "Hey, Rex, can you check my foundation?" "Sure, just don't check my foundation, wink wink." Rex's arrest led to a frenzy of speculation. People were dissecting every little detail, trying to connect the dots like they were playing a murderous game of Connect the Dots. DNA evidence, internet searches, and more drama than a soap opera – this case had it all. Whodunit? Or Is It "Who-Dones-It?" So, as Rex sat in court, probably wondering if his cellmate would appreciate his architectural skills, a question loomed large: Are there more victims? Is this a one-man show, or are we dealing with an ensemble cast of serial killers? It's like the Long Island version of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" – "Is it A) Rex, B) Rex's evil twin, C) A group of copycat killers, or D) All of the above?" And you thought deciding where to eat for dinner was complicated. Conclusion: The Architect of Mystery In the end, the Long Island Serial Killer saga is a true crime roller coaster with more twists than a bag of pretzels. Rex Heuermann, the unexpected architect of chaos, is in the hot seat. Married, with kids, and possibly a secret dungeon – the perfect recipe for a twisted crime novel. But this ain't fiction, folks. It's a real-life murder mystery that had New Yorkers on the edge of their subway seats. So as we await more twists, turns, and revelations, one thing's for sure: Long Island's beaches might be a hot vacation spot, but they're also home to some pretty chilling stories. Who needs palm trees and piña coladas when you've got mysterious belt insignias and a "big talker" neighbor with a dark side? Read the full article

[wackpedion]

YAYAYA I LOVE UUUU OKAY SO MSI is made up of 4 members, the lead singer Jimmy Urine, guitarist Steve, Righ?, bassist Lyn-Z, and drummer Kitty. The first bassist for MSI was Vanessa YT but she left some time after the release of their second studio album Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy

MSI's gimmick seems very immature on their surface, basically their goal is to just offend and be unpalatable to the general public. However it's actually such an interesting approach they have to music, in where they refuse to abide whats profitable and easy to sell and rather do what nobody else dares to do, talk about things nobody else dares to talk about. They value free speech Alot, and refuse to tone themselves down for anyone else. Another core idea of MSI is this quote "oppression of the word is what gives it the power", it comes from this skit about slurs and the message is basically that to oppress a word gives it more meaning and power when it's used, and to normalize it as any other word removes that power. This quote was printed on the back of the FGWSSS CD, the skit was ripped and featured in Crappy Little Demo, and it's also in Jimmy's solo song Problematic. This leads into why MSI's so free with language and don't shy away from using slurs, which as you can imagine is very controversial (which is fair, there are things to criticize about that approach such as if its possible, correct, or if its even their place to make such an assertion)

Not to mention the sound of their music itself is such a unique and fascinating blend of so many styles. Basically, for their album Tight they recorded a cover of the song Bring The Pain in several different styles and genres that they liked and were looking to take inspiration from, and then they took the best parts of each one and edited them together. This sounds easy, but this was in the 90s and using shitty equipment so it was quite the difficult effort but they fucking did it anyway, and this mashed together cover served as the basis and blueprint for the MSI style. It's so interesting and makes them truely like no other, MSI likes to make jokes off this by calling their genre Industrial Jungle Pussy Punk

Additionally they're such colorful characters, especially Jimmy Urine. They're known for their crazy stage antics and performances, the band likens themselves to being more entertainers than musicians. Things they've done at shows: Lyn-Z climbed unto a balcony and threw bar stools down at the audience, Jimmy Urine set his own pubes on fire (and was later arrested for public indecency), start playing a wildly different style of music in the middle of a show to confuse everyone, one time Jimmy Urine said "I am going to fuck this up because I hate all of you" and then proceeded to sing a whole ass other song while the rest of the band played something else, they have this taxidermied canine called Chauncey that they would sometimes bring out to performances, Jimmy Urine making out with people at shows, Jimmy Urine making out with a man and then proceeding to call him a Faggot, Jimmy Urine pissing in a cup and drinking it, also Steve drinking Jimmy's piss and then spitting out into the audience, also Steve puking at shows, and etc. They're actually fucking insane nobody else does it like them.

also as you said YES HOME OF SEXUALS !! Jimmy Urine is so openly queer and I admire him so much for it, guy was so unapologetic and out in the 90s and early 2000s and didn't even stop to explain or label himself which is metal as fuck. I will always remember the time he had "RED IS FOR FAGZ" written on his back as he wore all red, I would say more but like I made some other post about it recently so I don't feel like listing out all the gay shit he's done

And now one last thing I'll talk about: Their album Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy, specifically its production because its such a funny fucking story. Basically, after the release of their debut studio album, Tight, many different record labels wanted to work with them. And so what did MSI do? Be as annoying as fucking possible for no fucking reason. They would charge obscene amount of money for their appearances, they would purposefully ruin their own songs, the investors wanted an album that would be good for radio and so naturally MSI filled it with as many curse words as fucking possible and then made nearly all of the songs under 2 minutes, then the song Faggot which is all about gay sex, they made the album as obnoxious sounding as fucking possible, on the CD's there would be stickers like "Be the first on your block to throw this new album out!", it has 30 tracks and they're all in alphabetical order, and also they priced it at 30 bucks so it wouldn't sell well. They basically did their fucking best to drain as much money as they could from labels and make sure they wouldn't make any money back on it its funny as hell like what was their PROBLEM. I love them. ok thats it sorry for this wall of text did u know i have autism

heyyy can i infodump to u ab MSI i feel like you'd get a kick out of their antics

Hell yeah tell me about the home of sexuals

[swanimagines]

2/5 B73 + A50 for Kaz Brekker?

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

Prompts: B73. “Your smile is beautiful.” + A50. “Oh, are you looking for [name]? They’re probably setting themselves on fire right now.”

A/N: I'm starting from this one, don't be confused XD Still planning to do the rest. I hope you like it Charlie!!

Warnings: I changed the A50 prompt just with a few words but it means the same, and again, book stuff (includes mentions of Nina being a Crow) even though I haven’t been able to read them yet. Also cringy writing, I had a mini motivation loss going on when I wrote this...

Word count: 856

You had all been working tirelessly for days with this new heist, and you were spending a lot of time with Kaz while planning. You had sat in his office together all night and he had let you sleep on his couch for a few hours at the morning after you had fallen to sleep with pen in your hand and blueprints still on your lap, he had taken them away from you, careful not to touch you and sometimes even threw a blanket over you.

You thought he was just being a good boss and rewarding you for working so hard, even when he didn't do that with anyone else. You had just grown accustomed to it.

And now you were all doing your final plans for the heist happening in a few days, counting the plan over for the first time. You sat at the table in front of Kaz, but the rest of the Crows were scattered around the room.

“Y/N and I will be here-” he started, but you interrupted him.

"Kaz, I told you before that guards patrol our spot irregularly. What happens if we get caught when we're breaking in?" you asked, pointing at the spot on the map.

“I’ll protect you if that happens.” he answered without looking up, but making everyone else look up in surprise, eyeing between you and Kaz. You were too tired to realize the absurdness of his sentence though and took it as a joke, even though it was weird of Kaz to make a joke like that.

“So you’re kind of a mother hen for me.” you chuckled, half-expecting Kaz to glare at you but this time he surprised you and everyone in the room even further.

Kaz smiled.

Genuinely smiled.

It wasn’t a smirk, it was a smile. He dropped his facade in front of everyone for just a moment, before he noticed you all staring at him and quickly dropped his smile and clearing his throat, pretending it didn’t just happen.

But you, in your tired state, bit your lip and smiled at him. “Kaz?”

“Hm?”

“You should smile more often. Your smile is beautiful.” you muttered, Kaz froze and after a moment all the Crows in the room let out a stifled burst of laughter, snapping Kaz out from his frozen state and silencing them with his infamous glare.

It took you a moment before you realized what you had just blurted out, but when it hit you, you clasped a hand in front of your mouth and rose up from the table, quickly making your way out from the room. Kaz stared after you for a moment before he cleared his throat again.

“Well, as I was saying, Inej, you should go to your position at the roof, here. Jesper, you wait for Y/N’s signal before going in.” he tried to continue planning like nothing had just happened, but everyone could see the faint blush on his cheeks. The Bastard of the Barrel didn’t blush. At least if he didn’t have something going on with the person who made him blush.

And it was a known fact among the Crows that Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, feared across Ketterdam, was head over heels for you, even if he didn’t admit it. Everyone knew it and saw the way he looked at you, except, of course, you.

Next morning you didn’t show up to breakfast, and Kaz didn’t find you from your room. And he realized that he needed to talk to you, let you know that he wasn’t angry about your little slip, and you had no reason to be embarrassed. He had made you all overwork, so slips like that happened. He, of course, wouldn’t reveal his own feelings for you, but the thought of you having feelings for him brought the slightest amount of warmth to his cold heart.

He had tried to ask around, looking for you but you had vanished, just like he had taught you to vanish if danger is near. He just never thought that he would be that danger.

“If you’re looking for Y/N, they’re probably setting themselves on fire right now.” Nina smiled as she came across to Kaz scanning the Club in hopes to catch a sight of you. Kaz swallowed at that.

“I figured.” he frowned, not looking at Nina. But where were you setting yourself on fire?

Nina just winked before licking her lips and disappearing back into the crowd.

It took the whole day before you dared to leave your friend’s place and tiptoed your way to your room and could just hope that everyone forgot what you did. Everyone was asleep when you got into your room and you believed that no one knew you had come back.

But Kaz would recognize your steps anywhere, and even though he would never admit it either, he was immediately relieved when he knew that you were back at the Slat, that you were safe.

And maybe someday he could finally tell you that he cared about you, in a different way he cared about his other Crows...

[minshookie]

Pillow Fight.

Pairing |Bully!Jungkook x reader

Genre | smut, angst.

Summary | “Another day spent babysitting your bully’s little sister...you should really quit but the pay is just too good.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, bullying, mentioned sexual acts, mentions of past bullying, NON-CON,financial struggle, Jungkook is a really shitty big brother.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 1k.

A/N: I rewrote this so many times! Lmfaoo! Buuut get ready because some of requests yall sent in are 🥵🥵.

“Orange is your best color.” Aera chirped dragging the paint drowned brush along your pinky nail. “I think you’re just saying that because it’s your favorite.” The young girl giggles continuing to color your fingertips. “Uhm are you staying all night miss y/n?” Nodding you brushed back her wild strands of hair softly with your free hand. “Soooo like a sleep over?!” She squeals closing the bottle of nail polish, her eyes glittering as she gazes into yours intent for answers. “Yeah!” You matching her energy only made her more excited, “yay! And-and can Jungkookie Oppa come?!” She bounced on her knees smiling ear to ear, fumbling over her words.

“Oh...Jungkook huh... Hmm what about no boys aloud?” You planted the idea praying she’d take the bait as you started cleaning her toy makeup, giving her a chance to think it over.

“What? Jungkook isn’t a boy, he’s my brother!” Giggling she pounced from the couch striding towards his room. At this point all you could do is laugh at her innocent lack of logic. She looks so happy who are you to burst her little bubble, for all you know Jungkook might want nothing to do with the both of you and your little mock slumber party.

Closing the toy purse you hid it back away in the large toy chest she pulled from her room, leaving it open you cleared the floor of the multicolored blocks and dolls. A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips as you overhear Aera’s begs and pleas mixed with Jungkook’s refusals....but finally the door creaks.

Please no. “Y/n, guess what?!” She drags your name out as her small foot steps pitter the floor, Jungkook’s thudding. She comes down the hall pulling Jungkook by his middle finger. ���As if you weren’t undesirable enough, neon nails really helped it out.” Grumbling he throws himself on the couch you just tidied up. “Nice to see you again too Kook.”Aera bounced on her toes watching us have confrontation, unaware of the negative connotations.

Truth is you hadn’t seen Jungkook since you left for college and you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again...that is until relationships fell apart, your roommate left and things got hard to pay for, and you were two bills away from being homeless. the job up at university paid $9.50 an hour while the busy Jeons still offered $12.00 the choice was clear. Take a little break, live with family, get back on your feet, and try again. But little did you know Jungkook decided to stay local with his schooling.All this aside the work was easy since Aera had grown a bit, but the thought of dealing with the person that made your life hell for four years made you want to quit daily.

“Can I do your nails Too?!” “No Aera, now be cute and get me something to drink.” He orders putting his feet on the coffee table eyeing you up and down,disgustingly. “No Aera I’ll get it.” You grabbed her shoulder. “No y/n! I’ll do it, I’ll do it quickly!” Setting free she bolted for the kitchen.

“So, you went to college got broke and came back sniveling to my rich parents?” You rolled your eyes, looking in the direction of the kitchen for any sign of Aera. “I thought you would’ve out grown your asshole phase, that’s very high school of you Kook.” He scoffed defensively, “and you using babysitting as your main income is high school of you, what happened your little rapper boyfriend leave you high and dry?” “You shut the fuck up.” You snapped back my reflex. He held his hands up in defense, “Suga blew up and left you in the shit show not my fault.” We argued in hushed tones as Aera ran back into sight.

“Here you go kookie!” She handed Jungkook the can of Coke, heaving for air. “Aera this is warm, cold...I want something cold, go try again.” He handed her the can, “oh okay Oppa sorry!” And off she was back down the hall. He turned back to me, “why’d he leave you...couldn’t make him bust?” you tried to hide it but his words stung, you’d been avoiding anything to do with Yoongi since he’d ghosted you weeks before you left for college. Bigger things waited for him in the world of fame, and you weren’t in the blueprint.

“Fuck you Jungkook.” “Come try it bitch.” Smirking he was satisfied with himself as you stood almost defeated. “Oh I forgot you’re scared of sex.” “Leave the high school rumors behind...ran out a material? Maybe you should get out more.” He rolled his eyes scoffing, “shut up before I make you.” “You like to pretend I’m still afraid you...make me, little boy...since you insist on being one.”

Jungkook’s come back was cut short by the thumping of Aera’s feet. “Kookie!Kookie! Ice! I got it all by myself!” She gave the cup of ice to Jungkook and then the Coke. “Good job, now pour it.” He handed them back and you took it from her small clutches much to Jungkook’s disliking. You poured him the drink, pushing his feet off the small table and placing the glass. “She’s not your little slave Jungkook.” He kept eye contact picking up the glass, “you’re right she’s not, you...go get me a coaster now or you’re fired.” His eyebrow arched cockily, his free hand waving you away. “As if! You can’t fire me Jungkook.” He got Aera sitting her on the couch beside him as she caught her breath. “Is that so? Try me, my parents might have hired you but you work for us...now work.” His gaze alone told you he wasn’t playing with you anymore.

Angered you stormed to kitchen pulling a coaster from the table before swiftly Turing on your heels, almost jumping out of you skin as you met face to face with Jungkook. “What the fuck do you want now?” “You said some shit I didn’t like.” You threw the coaster back on the marbled table, “I wish you’d grow up already.” You atempt to go past him but his muscular arm halts your plans. “I have to go do my job-” “I put on her show she’ll be good for the next hour.”

You don’t remember Jungkook being so brooding he looked down at you, his new tall posture slightly off putting yet attractive. “What now, you wanna talk it out?” You walked away siting at the island, “I’ll leave you be if you leave me to do my job Kook.” He came behind you, trapping you in his arms. Tattoos, he’d change a lot but not enough to leave you alone.

“I see you came and got the coaster, scared of me now?” What an ass, “no I need this job.” He hummed from behind you, no sign of him letting you go. “You know y/n, you’ve grown quite a bit.” You became more and more uncomfortable by the second, his breathing became deeper. “I’m aware, so have you.” Rudely he became handsy, groping your breast earning a shocked reaction. “Jungkook please-” “scared of me?” He squeezed you with a little too much force making you give a Yelp, he had you trapped, you were nothing but a game to him. “Shhh shh don’t want to startle my baby sister while she rests...that wouldn’t be very babysitter like of you now would it?”

Silent what could you even say? He had you trapped, your position less than hopeless he’d made you feel small and that’s exactly what he wanted. He’s always wanted that ever since you’d met him, and he always succeeds. He intruded under your top, skating his chilled hand over your skin leaving cold bumps in his wake he held your bra covered breast.

You griped his unexposed wrist trying at escape, knowing fully how downhill this could get. “Oh is the brave girl afraid?” “N-no your hands are cold as Ice Jungkook...please stop.” You lied continuing to push his muscular arm. “Oh? Let me warm them for you.” He removed his hand from the island almost causing you to topple over. Reaching down he found himself with his hand now between your legs fiddling with the pant button. “Jungkook! Please no!” His hand along your chest he pulled you back into his sculpted figure.

“You must not value your job as much as you say, scream again and you’ll be broke and fucked over and to think I actually liked you a bit.” He came to your ear, sniffing your hair eerily. “Little did I know how much of a bitch you were, I loved you when you were shy.” He finally got through your button, getting to your panties he gave you a two fingered massage along your core, you strained not to react to the unwanted pleasure. “Look at you pathetic and wet I bet you’re so needy I could make you cum right here.” He began to focus his nimble fingers on your aching clit. “Fucking stop it.” You could only whimper. “Why should I, we’re old enough now and you’re sopping through your panties I know you want it.”

He invaded under your bra, fondling your hardening bud. “I loved you when you were weak and innocent...I know she’s hiding deep inside of you, the little girl that would cry over me-”

“Miss y/n! I’m tired!” Her voice softly called from the living room. Saved by an angel, finally Jungkook stoped his assault backing off of you with a groan. “You’ll meet me in my room when she’s in bed, or else.” He grumbled leaving you behind to collect yourself, how could bad get so much worse?

[fangirl--writes]

Purpose. Pre-Spray Jeremiah Valeska x Reader

ENCHANTED PROMPT: “Plan a private picnic by the fires glow.”

RQ by anon. There was no specification other than Jeremiah Valeska so I chose Pre-Spray Jeremiah Valeska.

This was super fun to write, thank you so much anon! 

Word Count: 1550

Check out this post If you’d like to request one of the other prompts.

A quick rasp at the door caused you to look up from your book. Wordlessly you sighed dropping your marker on your page.

It was just getting good too….

You gave a longing look back at your book before you adjusted your sweater and headed to the door.

“Yes?” Your tired gaze settled on the stoic form of your boyfriend’s assistant.

Ecco. Her blue eyes were deep as she swept your form with a quick nod.

Your lazy afternoon gone in a matter of seconds.

“Come with me please.”

Your brows arched as you stiffened,“Is Jeremi- “

“Mister Wilde, is fine.” Her voice was firm.” I have been instructed to come collect you at his request.”

A soft whine bubbled from your chest as you grabbed your shoes, slipping them on before reaching for your keys. Ecco’s eyes never leaving you as you locked the door. Her hand fell to your back as she guided you to the car, your mind racing with all matter of worry.

Is he okay?

Did something happen-

Jeremiah always informed you ahead of time if he was sending his proxy

Always.

His assistant remained steadfast and silent as she drove you the hidden paths to Jeremiah’s bunker deep in the outskirts of Gotham. Your hands twisted the seat belt in knots as you stared out the tinted window; the city skyline getting smaller and smaller in the rear view.  Time seemed to drag as the car headed into the darkness; the soft glow of the headlights illuminating the rugged path ahead of you.

Please be okay... Please be okay.

Your knuckles were white as the car finally eked to a stop, you had to force yourself to still as the blonde came around to open your door. She led you through the familiar path to the cylinder block square nestled into the ground, with a soft click the door opened. Your chest was tight as the grey walls were bathed in a crisp glowing light. In an instant you threw yourself down the hall, the tense energy that bubbled in your chest burst as you sprinted leaving Ecco behind.

“Jeremiah-

Jeremiah…please answer me.”

Your voice grew more desperate with every scream. There was no sign of your red headed engineer-

Images of him collapsed somewhere down one of the many twisting halls flooded your mind; his body limp, lifeless on the cold concrete. The soles of your sneakers skidded to a stop as a faint crunch caught under your feet.

Your frantic gaze veered down to see a petal crumbled under your rampage… a vibrant crimson rose.

You backtracked catching sight of more petals… your siege paused as you followed the trail down the new corridor. The white lights were dimmed; instead, the hall was illuminated in soft glow of small flickering candles. A warm whiff of your favorite scent guided you down the hall.

Did… Jeremiah do this?

Every so often you’d come home to a beautiful bouquet on your table with a handwritten note of adoration. Small gifts would be delivered to your workplace, but never a gesture like this.

You thumbed the rose petal in your palm as you gawked in awe as you moved along unsure of your destination.

The hall opened up to a room familiar. The den where you and your significant other spent hours, reading, laughing and enjoying the others company.

The worn petal slipped from your hand as you laid sight on a room aglow by a steady crackling flame in a fireplace… a new fireplace. Lanterns filled in the gaps chasing away any inkling of frigid darkness.

Your hands flew to cover your lips as a surprised gasp escaped you. A massive fur rug was spread over the typical cold concrete draped with plush pillows and blankets. The rose petals had blossomed into dozens of stems planted in small metal vases laid meticulously across the space, dancing in the dim glow.

“Do you like it Darling?”

You nearly melted hearing Jeremiah’s breezy voice tickle your ear; your eyes squeezed shut as his arms slipped around you in a warm embrace

He pulled you in close his cologne faint, filled your senses as you held him.

“It’s… amazing…”

You froze in you enrapture; eyes growing wide for a split second as you remembered-

“Don’t Scare Me Like That.” The words flew from your mouth angrily as you wiggled turning to smack your partners chest.

“Do you know how worried I was?

I thought you were dead.

Ecco didn’t say anything and you- “

Jeremiah’s lips cut you off as he cradled your cheek in his hand. His forehead together against yours pulling away to speak in your place.

“Forgive me. I know it’s brash but I wanted to surprise you and didn’t know any other way.”

You grazed the back of his hand falling into the deep green pools of his eyes.  His dark brows knitted in concern at your silence.

After a few moments your bubbling giggle filled the room. “Don’t make it a habit.” You pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before turning back to the fireplace.

Your partner’s hand entwined into yours with a low breathy chuckle and a shake of his head as he led you to the warmth of the hearth, guiding you to a cushion before slipping off to the side returning quickly with two glasses and a covered dish.

“Thank you.” You grinned as you reached to take one of the glasses filled with your favorite wine.  

He settled beside you before laying the dish to the side before taking a drink of his own.

“I do wish you would have at least given me a clue…” You swirled your glass before taking a sip. “I feel so out of place in all this elegance.”  Even he had dressed impeccably as always in a copper toned sport coat and trousers down to his shoes that shined with care.  

Jeremiah’s hand brushed against your knuckles pulling your attention from the drink; the flame dancing off the lenses of his glasses as he stared into the roaring fire.

“It doesn’t compare.”

The faintest grin crept on his face as he caught a glimpse of your eyes darting away to your glass, your form dipped at his sincerity. He felt a small pride seeing your blush, the bashful grins as you took his compliments was almost mind numbing for him. “All the grandest gestures I could give would never measure to the one you have given me.”

Your head lifted with the faintest tilt as you set your glass aside. “…Sweetheart is was just a watch...”

Your naïve nature was a charm he held so dear to his heart Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to protect you, to guard you from the evils of the outside world that had turned him callous and cold.

He felt his cheeks crack into a chuckling grin that spilled into his speech. “-And it’s a lovely piece, but it wasn’t…quite what I had in mind.”

He cleared his throat as he turned to face you reaching to take both your hands.

You gave him a reason to step away and take part in the small pleasures.

He felt life was worth something again. He was alive when you were with him, the mere thought of you now made Jeremiah…dare he say giddy like school boy with his first love. He now had a purpose beyond the piles of blueprints and sticky notes lining the walls of office.

He had you.

The fear that paralyzed him to hide in the shadows of the underground was cracking, shedding a light on a new life that he could build with his new purpose.

Even now as he looked to you, blinking under the cover of the candle lit room a weak smile slipped across his lips. The words all planned, down to the breathes he’d take all but faded away; Jeremiah didn’t even notice the faint tremor in his hands as he took in a breath in an attempt to seal his nerves.

You made him a mess.

“Y/N, my darling... will you stay here? With me.”

Your eyes glistened, as a soft gasp escaped you breaking into a beaming smile as you nodded eagerly your whole-body following along.

Before you could reply, he pressed a finger to your parted lips. His voice was faint as he dropped an addition.

“The night, and forever.”

You couldn’t hold the elation that was bursting in your chest; suddenly you sprang forward overtaking him in a fit of glee as one word fell feverishly from your lips. Yes. Yes, yes yes.

The two of you went tumbling down to the plush carpet. Jeremiah was on his back in an instant as your lips came crashing down to capture his own in a buzz of excitement.

Unprepared he flinched as the two of you went reeling back; his mind going blank as your lips settled into his. His hands wandered to hold your waist steady, savoring the taste of the drink on your lips before watching you pull away with a breathless huff.

And now, he would never have to think of another day were you wouldn’t be with him.

Taglist:

@kpopgirlbtssvt​​

@valeskaduh​​

@theunquenchablethirst​​

@spider-lonesome​

@maria-akira​​

@seldomabsent

[docockbrainrot]

i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader/ Otto Octavius X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+

AO3 link here.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

anathema// former vandal

The next several days are an uneventful blur. You barely leave your apartment, except for brief dog walks and grabbing food from the bodega across the street.

It’s 9 pm on Saturday and you’re fresh out of the shower, tucked away in a very fuzzy robe, lounging on the couch and watching YouTube on your television. You almost miss the subtle taptaptaptap sound coming from your window, you're so engrossed in the cooking show you’ve been binging. Gotta fill the void somehow, right?

You can’t see anything outside from where you’re sitting. The lights are on and make it impossible to peer through the reflections on the glass. Maybe it’s a bird. Or a branch is caught on the fire escape. Either way, you certainly can’t be assed to check it out and you take another sip of your chamomile tea- you’ve been trying everything under the sun, just about short of literally snorting lines of melatonin, to try to sleep better at night. Nothing’s been working. But you have been making a very valiant effort.

A few moments go by and you forget all about the window disturbance until,

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

It’s jarring. It’s loud. Above all else, it’s annoying. Chekov spares you a look, like you’re the one making a racket. Effectively exasperated, you make an effort to set, not slam, down your mug, feeling decidedly not Calm and Relaxed as the tea promised. Suppose it’s not miracle shit though, is it? You would not be a good candidate for a horror movie because you fearlessly storm over to the window and throw it open (it wasn’t locked in the first place; you’re quite terrible at remembering to). You stick your head out and glower at whatever irritating mischief is happening out here, ready to rip the fire escape off the side of the brick building.

You’re greeted by something cold and hard (and indubiously metal, judging by how it felt against your sternum) shoving you back into your apartment, sending you sprawling unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. A string of profanities ready to leave your tongue, you sit up and adjust your robe in an attempt to preserve a modicum of your modesty. The rant dies in your throat as red eyed claws grip the threshold of your pre-war window and it’s almost comical the way He maneuvers himself in, far too large to be making these sorts of entrances. Standing up to his full height before you while you’re still sitting dumbfounded on the floor reminds you of just how impressively built he is. You manage to pick your jaw up, but your ass remains firmly planted on the wood.

“Uh… you could have just used the buzzer, dude. I have a front door, you know,” you sputter out, brain blitzing in pretty much every way possible. Your thoughts are racing and eventually they settle on the most important thing you can think to ask in that moment: “... Why aren’t you wearing a shirt.” You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to his broad chest, gaze lingering on the vast scarring that spills out from the metal contraption clamped around his midsection.

Otto very graciously closes the window behind himself. Or at least his little robot accomplices do it for him. You still aren’t sure what’s going on with that- the whole AI thing. Not even a blip on your radar of concerns at this point. “Didn’t want anyone to see me come in. Your building has a camera on the front, facing the street.”

“That’s why you’re shirtless?” You ask dumbly. Interesting method of camouflage. “What? No- what? It doesn’t matter- listen to me. I need you to do something for me. A small favor.”

He doesn’t seem to notice the compromised position he put you in. Typical. Gathering up your broken pride, you get up and tighten the tie of your robe a bit. It isn’t until then that he has the decency to look a smidge embarrassed and you hope you didn't just give him a free show on your way to getting to your feet. “You literally just broke into my apartment and now you’re asking for a favor? We barely know each other!”

“Less complicated when there's nothing personal involved yet, plus- you let me in,” he corrects you. You wish he would stop doing that. You wish he would stop meeting with you like this, under weird and mysterious circumstances. Even though it's only been like twice. You're already over it.

“You threw me across the room!”

“Touche.”

Otto does not apologize and you did not sincerely expect him to. The look on his face reads more like the cat that got the canary than regretful. You feel as though you’ve come to recognize that expression on his face and you also feel as though you don’t much like the fact that you’ve enough encounters with this man that you can recognize a damn thing about him. “What… could you possibly need me to do for you? I am not robbing a bank.” You just want to get that out into the open as soon as possible.

“I don’t need your help robbing a bank,” he snorts as if the idea is preposterous and you take a moment to feel insulted. Wow. Okay. You could totally rob a bank if you wanted to. Deciding to not comment on your wounded ego, you let him get to the point. Otto pulls something out of his inner coat pocket. It's some kind of rolled up paper and you think at first maybe it's a newspaper or magazine. He unfurls it onto the coffee table and holds it open with two metal claws on either side so it doesn't ravel itself back up.

You realize it's a blueprint. "This is… Oscorp," you point out stupidly, brow furrowing in confusion. There's levels to what's happening here. Layers upon layers, melding together with rot and decay and you can all but smell it. But there's something missing, something that would tie all of the wackjob shit that's been happening to you and around you together. It feels like when you have a very particular thought and then walking into another room makes it dissolve from your head. You're trying to grasp for it, to fit the puzzle pieces together, but it's just out of reach.

"Yes. It is. I have a small task I need you to do," Otto starts off, metal phalanges pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head as he looks over at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes in the light. The warm amber feels like a mockery- you have seen his cruelty in action.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Of course he'd say that.

Your fingertips brush against the metaphorical wayward chain link. It's right there. You just have to grab it and pull it back to you, like the anchor of a ship before it can set sail.

He's talking. You aren't listening. He's tracing a finger over the schematics. You don't see it. Realization washes over you in a heart-dropping tsunami. The voicemail you got from Oscorp plays like a broken record in your mind. 'Hello, Y/N. We're calling in regards to your employment status here at Oscorp. Unfortunately, due to a breach of security, we are having to make staffing cuts and are going to have to let you go. We appreciate your time and effort and wish you the best of luck in your next endeavor.' It didn't make sense at the time. A lot of things didn't. You replay the scene of poor David, desperately pleading for his life at the hands of the man hunched over here, just in your living room. You mentally re-run it over and over like bad 80s sitcoms on late night television.

"Lab Coat Guy…"

You don't realize you whispered it out loud until Otto goes silent.

"What?"

You slowly look at him and take a single step backwards, shaking your head. The company embroidered on David's lab coat hadn't been clear to you in the moment- but it's crystal in hindsight. Oscorp. "You got me fired." Your tone is flat, until anger flashes through you, like a streak of lightning through a dark, moonless sky, illuminating all of things that didn’t make sense before.

"It doesn't matter. What I need you to do-" He's so nonchalant, so blasé that it only stokes the embers of frustration until there's a roaring blaze burning beneath your skin. It's all about him, what he needs, what he wants. He has the nerve, the audacity, to keep traipsing into your life, kicking you while you're down and then ask for favors? You want to say all of that to him but unfortunately for you, you're an angry crier. Your outburst of bravery at him the last time you saw each other had surprised even you- but now there's so much more emotion roiling around inside you.

"No. No, no. Fuck you. You got me fired! I can't- I can't not have a job, I have to pay rent! You could get me arrested for just talking to you!" Oscorp had you canned to tie up any potential loose ends before anymore Davids could slip through the cracks. You think about how scared the poor dude must have been, threatened into stealing blueprints from the biggest corporation in the city, for one of the most infamous criminals. You don't know how they found out you were even remotely involved and you don't want to know.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and once the floodgates have opened you're very familiar with how long it's going to take to close them again. After all you've been bottling this up since you found out, too disappointed to even tell any of your friends or family.

Otto appears taken aback, to say the least. He even looks like he's at a loss for words; that's a first. You know he could kill you where you stand in the blink of an eye, but in that moment you don’t even care. You’ve been trying so hard for so long to get on your feet, to do things for yourself and get away from the past. You moved across the country, you left everything behind, you got a damn dog. It seems like every time you manage to take a step forward in life, you’re knocked flat on your ass, apparently literally sometimes. It isn’t fair. Things don’t come easily to you, you’ve always had to work for them. You aren’t wealthy, you aren’t a supergenius, you’re just… you. The job at Oscorp was good money and you really felt like you were getting your shit together for a while.

“They’re not who you think they are,” he says finally, so calmly, with such carefulness about his words, that you sniffle pathetically and look up at him. He doesn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as you thought he might. And here you’ve been, under the impression that he gets off on hurting people. “Oscorp. I’m not… I’m not just doing this for me. You have to understand that.”

The schematics are furled up and tucked away. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Maybe it’s just the tears that blur your vision, but you swear you see a softness there before they’re hidden away again by his glasses.

He lingers at the window.

“I hope you’ll reconsider.” And then he was making his exit, even taking care to gently close the window on the way out. But he raps on the glass with his knuckles from where he stands on the fire escape and you know the look of confusion on your tear-streaked face speaks for itself. Otto points to the latches on the window. ‘Lock it.’ He mouths before he’s gone, presumably to wreak havoc and harass other unsuspecting young women that don’t want anything to do with him.

You thought everything had come together- but the more sense you make of it, the less you seem sure of the bigger picture. You aren't even sure exactly what he wanted you to do.

You’re left with an endless bounty of questions, and not enough answers to satisfy any of them.

[go-go-devil]

Ersher Burakh who was Artemy Burakhs brother was one day in the capitol cutting into a cadaver. He got a letter from his brother that said that plague and bandits were attacking his place and aksed him for help so he went.

Ersher Burakh got his cadaver shut down and wet up the stairs to get up the roof of the building where he left his reitwagen and normal people close because he was in his sturgeons gown. Ersher Burakh got on his motorcycl and said “it’s time for me to live up to my family name and face full life consequences” so he had to go.

Ersher Burakh ramped off the building and did a backflip and landed. He kept riding down the tracks and made sure there was no plague around because he did not have tincture.

The countrysides were nice and the grass was singing and the crows and the sun were almost down from the top of the sky. the mood was set for Ersher Burakhs quest to help his brother were he was. Ersher Burakh looked around the step and said “its a good day to do what has to be done by me to help my brother defeat the enemies.”

Ersher Burakh was late so he had to jump onto train to get there really fast. A coffin was hidden near so when Ersher Burakh went by a man crawled out and wanted to give him a deal. Here Ersher Burakh saw the first decision-driven consequence because the traveler was death and had a undesirable ending.

“I can’t give you my deal fellow traveler” Ersher Burakh said

“Why not?” said the fellow traveler back to Ersher Burakh.

“Because you are metafor for the inevitable of death” so Ersher Burakh shot the travelor in the head and got off the train thinking “my brother is in trouble there” and went faster.

Ersher Burakh had to go faster like the speed of sound and got there fast because Artemy needed him where he was. Ersher Burakh looked at the town signs and saw “Town-On-Gorkhon” with someons writing under it saying “ur hated here” and Ersher Burakh almost turned around but heard screaming like Artemy so he went faster again.

Ersher Burakh drove in and did another flip n jumped off his motorbike and the motor bike took out some arsonists in front of Ersher Burakh. Ersher Burakh smiled and walked fast. Ersher Burakh then looked at the ground and found tinctor so he pickd it up and threw fast at infected peaple in front of a house.

Ersher Burakh said “infected peaple leave this place” and the infected said “but this is our house” and Ersher Burakh felt sorry for them because they couldn’t live there anymore but they were infected so he blew up the house and killed the infected peaple so they were at piece.

Then Ersher Burakh heard another scream from his brother so he kept walking really faster to get where he was. Town-On-Gorkhon was nothing like the countrysides there was no crows singing and the tire were dead and the healers were argueing and teh dirt was messy and bloody from plague.

When Ersher Burakh got to where the screaming was started he found his brother Artemy Burakh fightin the polyhedronnn and Artemy said “Ersher Burakh! Over here!” so Ersher Burakh went there to where Artemy Burakh was fighting. Ersher Burakh fired his bullet from blocks cannon and the bullets went and shot the polyhedron in the tower and Simon’s goast couldnt see.

Artemy Burakh said “its time to ends this once and for all!” and punched the polyhedron in the blueprints and the polyhedron fell. Ersher Burakh said “thanks i could help, bro” and Artemy Burakh said “you should have come here earlier next time” and they stared at each other.

The stared over quickly though because Ersher Burakh yelled “LOOK OUT BRO!” and pointed up to the top of the sky. Artemy Burakh looked up and said “NOO! Ersher Burakh run out of here as fast as you can!” and Ersher Burakh walked really fast out.

Ersher Burakh looked back and saw Artemy Burakh get steppe’d on by the meta narrative and he was mad and angry.

“I’ll get you back evil makers!” Ersher Burakh yelled at the top of lungs.

to be continued…?

[eyeballcommander]

@partymanagerpeepers

(Previous) Peepers gave a nod, handing over the device while he took the blueprints. “We should be home free, I don’t think anyone will check here before we can finish up the device.” he assured, folding the blueprints and putting them in his pocket.

"Good. The last thing we need is more trouble," Commander Peepers said as if he wasn't the cause of their current predicament.

They managed to return the dimension hopper to it's original form and repair it fairly quickly. If he hadn't already burned his counterpart's bridges he would have asked if there was any unfinished business he wanted to wrap up before leaving.

But he had, so after one last quality check he immediately fired it and stepped through the resulting portal.

On the other side lay a brightly-lit drab olive circular room, with stairs leading up to doors near the ceilings and blast windows between each set of doors.

A lone watchdog scientist sat at one of the windows with their head rested on their desk. Commander Peepers threw a boot at them to get their attention, and they were startled awake when it bounced off the glass.

They glanced around before their eye settled on their irate commander impatiently tapping his foot and glaring up at her. After they let out a yawn they put on a clunky headset.

"Ah. You're back." Their monotone voice played on the room's speakers, picking up a scratchy quality as it travelled through the cheap sound equipment.

"Where the hell is everyone!?" Commander Peepers threw his arms into the air out of frustration as he yelled. "I thought I ordered a squadron of my best troops and scientists to wait for me! Not a single foggy-headed noodle-armed weakling!"

"I mean, it is 3am home planet time so..."

"What would you do if something went wrong!?"

"I mean, your vitals stayed stable so we figured it was going well."

Commander Peepers crossed his arms. "Okay what if, say, a ravenous void beast stole my device and came through instead of me?"

They shrugged. "Die, I guess."

"UGGGGGGHHHH! You're impossible! I'd kill you all if I co-"

Commander Peepers stopped, then glanced back at his counterpart and took a deep breath before switching to a reassuring tone, "I swear, they're not usually like this..."

"We aren't?"

He threw his other boot at the window with enough force for it to noticably bend the window in the instant it made contact. They were completely unfazed.

[kariachi]

Quick supplementary ficlet for the Osmobeast college au. Set post-main story.

~~

Grad school was hard. Medical school was harder. So, Gar felt he could be excused for being a little more openly aggravated than normal when he answered the door.

“I have a paper to write,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. Nina immediately threw up her hands in surrender.

“Sorry,” she said, “I just thought you might like to know your fiancé is burning blueprints outside the engineering lab.” It probably said something that Gar’s first thought at hearing that was ‘wonder if I could add a few textbooks’. The second thought was the one he followed through on.

“Any clue why?” Nina shrugged.

“Not a one. I was scared to ask.”

“Okay,” Gar said, heaving a sigh, “I’ll check it out. Probably a good idea to step away from this for a bit anyway.” Nodding, Nina backed out into the hall.

“Alright. Just thought you should know.” He threw a smile at her.

“Thanks.”

~~

Surprise surprise, Kevin was in fact outside the engineering lab. The fire’d burned down to ashes he and what were presumably other engineering majors were arguing about what to do with, but he was there and clearly a fire had happened.

“Sweetheart,” Gar chimed, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, “do I want to know why?” Kevin leaned back against him, not quite boneless.

“Project is driving us directly up the fucking wall,” he grumbled, drawing a quick chuckle that was quickly changed into a commiserating murr out of his man.

“So you decided to burn the blueprints?”

“Copies of the blueprints and designs,” one of the others said, “we aren’t stupid enough to burn the originals.”

“You almost were,” another noted. The first huffed and went to argue as Kevin turned a tired ‘undergrads, what can you do’ look Gar’s way, which he readily returned.

“How bad is it?”

“We’ll live.” Kevin heaved a sigh of his own. “Just, I’ve lost count of how many iterations of this part we’re on and it’s like the solution is right there but we can’t grab it yet.” Gar murred again.

“Aw, poor little sugarplum,” he said as he leaned up to press a kiss to Kevin’s cheek, even as he snorted a laugh.

“‘Little sugarplum’? Seriously?” Matching his grin with one of his own, Gar tightened his grip.

“I’ve gotta figure out something to call you in my vows.”

“If it’s ‘little sugarplum’ I’m leaving you at the altar.”

“Duly noted.” Still chuckling quietly, Kevin twisted to nuzzle at his hair, threading a hand with his.

“So, leaving aside my life’s struggles- how’s that paper coming?” Slumping against him, Gar let out a long, pained groan.

“I’m kinda hoping if I just leave it long enough it’ll gain life and write itself…”

[bertrumstrousers]

hello my children it is time for

Bad Blood

Chapter II: Still There

Bertrum completed his evening ritual with a final splash of warm water to rinse the soap from his face and a gentle drying off with a neatly folded washcloth. He shook out his hair and used a damp thumb and forefinger to tidy his mustache as he scrutinized his reflection. If he was going to face Mr. Drew in the coming days, he was going to do it presentably.

“Ya ain’t goin’ on a date, Bertrum, what’re you fussing over your appearance for?” Lacie barked from the adjacent bedroom. “C’mon, it’s late.” Her eyes were rolled behind the book she was reading as she awaited him in bed.

With an audible sigh, Bertrum returned to her side. “Elegance starts with proper hygiene, and you know how highly I value elegance.” As he plucked his nightcap from the dresser and sat upon the edge of the bed to put it on, he couldn’t help but quip, “…and that is why you’re here.” Had Lacie been watching, she would have caught sight of a soft smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Listen to yerself bein’ all sappy.” Lacie set her book upon the bedside table as she chuckled. “Cute.”, she murmured as she sank deeper under the duvet.

“I’m not lying, love.” Bertrum laid down beside her and gestured with one hand as though to silently ask, ‘May I hold you?’, to which Lacie nodded in approval. Bertrum responded by wrapping a husky arm around the small of her back and tenderly pulling her over. A quick tug on the lamp’s pull chain allowed comforting darkness to fall over the room.

With one hand resting on Bertrum’s forearm, the other held snug in his large hand and her head tucked neatly under his chin, Lacie asked, out of pure curiosity, “…so what’s we doin’ tomorrow, exactly?”

A sharp tightening of Bertrum’s chest made her regret the query. “Would you prefer the long answer or the short one?”

“Whichever’s gonna upset ya less.”

“They’re both equally infuriating.”

“…aight. In that case, sleep first, be mad later.”

Bertrum agreed with a quiet grunt before giving Lacie a nuzzle and kiss on the neck in lieu of “good night”.

Lacie’s near-silent breathing was the only thing that kept Bertrum grounded in reality. By the time he resigned himself to a sleepless night nearly an hour later, she had buried her face in his nightgown, draped one arm across his stomach and the hand that previously occupied his now empty palm rested at her side. She was clearly at peace beside him.

It made him jealous.

His envy was only tempered by the sudden desire to keep her uninvolved while he settled his score with Joey. This was, after all, his own axe to grind. Bertrum was not about to admit his insecurity to himself, but a nagging thought repeated in his mind.

‘I’m plenty capable of standing up to the man, but I need someone in my corner. Someone to prove that I own what he stole credit for, to back me up when I show him my paten—‘

Startled by the revelation, Bertrum nearly leapt from his bed.

He had proof, and it would save Lacie the trip.

Waking up in the middle of the night was not common for Lacie, and if she did, it meant something was amiss. Bertrum hogging the blankets was her first thought, but that night, when she rolled over to reclaim the pilfered bedding, she found her partner missing.

“…Bertrum?”

Had it not been for his outburst that evening, she wouldn’t have thought much of his disappearance. An occasional midnight snack or pot of tea was not unusual, but he was rarely gone for long.

No noise came from the kitchen. Bertrum was a plenty polite man but he certainly was not a quiet one. Soft humming to himself as he waited for the kettle to boil, clinking utensils as he stirred his tea and the sharp tap of ceramic against ceramic as he raided one of his many biscuit tins were all sounds that were normally present during his nighttime visits to the kitchen, but every one was absent. When a full twenty minutes passed without his return, Lacie grew increasingly concerned, and the silence only made it worse.

She slid off the bed, draped on her bathrobe and went searching for him.

From the study, Bertrum silently and repeatedly thanked Lacie for leaving the crossword on the side table. By chance, the part of it that listed several of the attractions had been on the reverse of the very article that prompted his fit of rage that evening, and as much as the words still made his blood boil, he needed it.

Every ride and every innovation that was mentioned in that scrap of newspaper had a story. Hours upon hours of research, calculations and drafting. Once the technical parts had been perfected, Bertrum bestowed his favorite part, the creative and elaborate embellishments, upon his creations. A massive locked filing cabinet kept the attractions’ stories safe. The documentation that accompanied inventions that took a firm hold in the amusement park industry included their respective patents.

Those were what Bertrum was after.

For nearly half an hour, Bertrum leafed through his filing cabinet, using the article to guide his selections. His prized rides. The side-friction roller coaster, made in collaboration with a late German ride mechanic with whom he’d shared the patent. His inverted steel hairpin coaster; he had never been one for wooden coasters, their frailty did not allow for the wild drops or gravitational forces that had become increasingly popular among younger patrons. After fetching the ones the article contained, Bertrum started pulling papers associated with rides that had become famous. It hadn’t been mentioned in the article, but the strange contraption he’d invented, lovingly called the Whipper-Will-O, had its patent added to the expanding stack in his briefcase. It had always been one of his personal favorites. After all, the more disorienting, the better.

Bertrum had just entered the final stretch of his search when a knock at the door jarred him from his reminiscing and angry brooding. “Bertrum, what the hell’re you doin’ at this hour?!”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“…so yer… packin’.”

“Yes. Go back to bed, love—I’ll be there once I’m done getting these patents together.” Bertrum hadn’t turned his head to acknowledge her at all.

Bertrum had at some point changed from his nightgown to a collared shirt, neat slacks and, though the light of the desk lamp by which he worked was dim, she was pretty sure she could see his suspenders hanging from his waist. Clearly he didn’t intend to return to bed. “Big guy, just…” She sighed. “Come back t’bed. It’s three AM and I ain’t gonna coddle ya if you’re cranky in the morning.”

“Just give me some time.”

An irritated Lacie tucked her finger into the back of his collar and tugged. “You can do this after we hit the bookin’ office.”

Bertrum answered her with a grunt as he slid out of his chair. “Fine, fine.”

Attempting to sleep was more taxing than Bertrum expected. His mind was full of a sick fog that demanded his attention and blocked his path to rest. Too exhausted from fighting it, he let the haze take over.

‘He used to call you in at random. It began innocently enough, just… simple requests. You could handle those, they were nothing new. Clients made them all the time. But those requests turned into demands. Obnoxious demands. You should have listened to Mr. Connor when he warned you that Mr. Drew was unreasonable. You should have known, Bertrum. You should have bloody known.’

‘You could have left. On your own terms. The contract he’d written was a hastily scrawled mess of a page. All it said was that you’d do it, nothing more, and through that inebriated haze you could barely think twice about whether to put down your name… your untarnished name.’

The insecurity made him sick.

‘…No. Stop it. This was not your fault. That sleaze, he… he tricked you. He took advantage of you. You’re a professional, Piedmont. He was not. It showed that day. That day he called you into his office and threw you out.’

‘That memo you sent Joey was supposed to put out any fire that was smoldering between you. He overreacted. All it said was to stop taking and not returning your blueprints. Nothing else. So what if you raised your voice?! He started this! He was in your office after hours. He was mucking about in your proprietary work, and you called him out. You had every right! His firing you over an accusation? That was his fault.’

‘Tomorrow… will be better.’

Bertrum finally was able to talk himself down.

‘You’ll take back your plans by force, if you must. You cannot let Mr. Drew keep what isn’t his, and you certainly cannot let him implement anything more of yours under his own name.’