#Ling steals a car

[clonerightsagenda]

I first read and watched FMA in grad school while involved in a riled up graduate student government and watching multiple rounds of undergrad student government undergo scandals which is probably why I developed a very intricate college student government AU with just as much drama and betrayal. Now that I am involved in college governance as an employee I realize I undersold the drama actually.

Anyway as I continue my reread I am going to be incredibly self indulgent and post about this AU because a) I think it's hilarious and b) I need something to distract me from the pain suffering and indignity of having braces again.

[that-nefarious-song]

the mdzs junior quartet deserve an early 2000s teen movie about them

[bat-mom-writer]

Rage and Redemption Part 4

Bruce Wayne X younger adapted (female) reader

Summery: After you lose your parents in a fire and get adapted by Bruce Wayne, you make it a mission to make Bruce's life a living hell.

TRIGGER WARNING!

Rating: A lot of angst, cursing, almost getting seriously hurt, slightly suicidal. No death or bodily harm.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

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Next few weeks, you lived up to your word. You made sure that Bruce Wayne's mansion knew you were there. You broke a vase here, a lamp there, and the occasional window that was too easy to shatter with a thrown rock from the garden. But Bruce never raised his voice, never even scolded you. His patience was like a wall that no matter how hard you threw yourself against, it never crumbled.

When you couldn't sleep, you made it so no one could. You'd sneak into the kitchen at midnight and whip up a storm with pots and pans, or blast music from the state-of-the-art sound system. You figured if you couldn't break him, you could at least annoy him into sending you away. But every morning, Alfred would serve you breakfast with a stiff smile, and Bruce would greet you with an eerie calm.

Little did you know about Bruce's nightly rituals, the quiet moments in his bat cave, and the battles he waged within his mind as he watched over Gotham. The chaos you brought to the mansion was a mere echo of the tumult he faced each night.

You tried whatever you could to make Bruce mad—crashing the expensive sports car into a fountain, "accidentally" knocking over his prized collection of antiques, even stealing his card and buying a ridiculous number of pizzas and leaving them on the doorstep for Alfred to deal with. But Bruce took it all in stride, his jaw never clenching, his eyes never flashing with anger.

It was infuriating. You've even tried annoying Alfred, the stoic butler who seemed impervious to your antics. You never really ate any food, you just threw it. The walls of the dining room had become a Jackson Pollock painting of your angst. You'd fling the food with gleeful abandon, watching as peas bounced off the wood paneling and gravy dripped from the chandeliers. The sound of shattering glass became a twisted symphony to your ears, echoing through the grand halls with a cathartic finality. You'd watch as Alfred calmly picked up the pieces, his sighs the only indication of his exasperation.

But then, something changed. The China plates were replaced with unbreakable polycarbonate. The delicate wine glasses with durable, unshatterable tumblers. The rich, messy steaks with easy-to-clean, baked salmon. Alfred served the food, his eyes never leaving yours as he laid the food before you. The kitchen, once your battleground, had become a no-man's land of Tupperware and paper plates.

"Is this a joke?" you snarled, pushing the plate away. It was like a slap in the face. You could feel your temper rising, the heat of it burning your cheeks.

"Perhaps you could find another outlet for your…creativity," Alfred said calmly, refilling your water glass.

Ignoring his words, you grabbed a piece of salmon with your bare hand, the flaky flesh cold and slippery, and flung it across the room. It hit the wall with a wet splat, leaving a greasy stain on the priceless tapestry. The smell of fish filled the air, mingling with the scent of polished wood and leather from the dining room chairs. You watched with a twisted satisfaction as Alfred's smile remained fixed, not a single twitch of annoyance.

"I'm not hungry," you spat out, your voice echoing through the hollow room. You threw another piece of food, this time a dollop of mashed potatoes that stuck to the ceiling before sliding down like a sludgy waterfall. You felt the tension in your chest tighten, the need to break something, anything, to get a reaction. But the room remained unfazed as if it had seen worse, much worse.

Alfred's gaze lingered on you, his eyes filled with a mix of annoyance and something else you couldn't quite place. "You never are, miss," he said, glancing at how skinny you are. His voice was softer now, the edge of a smile gone, replaced with a look of genuine concern.

You pushed back your chair, the legs screeching against the marble floor, and stormed out of the dining room. The sound echoed through the cavernous mansion like a gunshot. You felt your rage building with every step. You needed to do something, anything, to crack the cool veneer of Bruce Wayne and his ever-watchful butler.

One late afternoon, Bruce was in his office, the walls lined with bookshelves that seemed to whisper secrets in the dimming light. The sound of broken glass echoed through the mansion. You're at it again. You shattered a vase, a symbol of your rage and frustration.

He sighed heavily and stood up from his desk, the leather chair groaning in protest. He knew it was you. You had a way of making your presence known without ever speaking a word. As he walked down the hallway, the echo of two more vases shattering filled the air. You were on a rampage, and it was his turn to face the music.

When he arrived at the foyer, you were indeed sitting on the railing stairs leading to the second floor, your legs swinging over the edge, a vase in your hand. You looked down at him with a mischievous smile, your eyes sparkling with a challenge. "Oppsy," you said as if you hadn't meant to drop the vase.

"Is there a reason why you're throwing Alfried's vases?" Bruce asked, his voice measured, his eyes searching yours.

You shrugged, the vase in your hand feeling suddenly heavier. "The butler gave me paper plates," you said, your voice a mix of defiance and amusement. "Like I'm not even worth the good China."

Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. "It's not about that, is it?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm.

Before you could respond, a commotion echoed through the house. An older boy with a mop of black hair came sprinting in, his eyes wide with concern. "Bruce, everything okay? I heard-" He skidded to a halt when he saw the wreckage, "Wow, what happened here?"

Bruce's gaze flicked to Dick, and his expression softened. "Your new sister decided to redecorate," he said, gesturing up the stairs to where you sat, the vase still clutched in your hand.

Your heart stopped for a moment, and you felt a fury boil in your chest. "I'm nobody's sister, asshole." you spat, throwing the vase at Bruce. It shattered at his feet, shards of porcelain and petals of rage scattered across the gleaming floor.

But the young man, Dick Grayson, didn't seem to mind. He took it all in stride, a grin spreading across his face as he looked up at you. "Wow, you've got a problem," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I like you already. Oh, I'm Dick by the way."

"The name fits," you said with a smirk, your voice filled with more amusement than you had intended.

Dick chuckles, still looking up at you with his hands on his hips. "Yeah, never mind, she's a bitch. I see why you brought her,"

Bruce's gaze snaps to Dick, his voice firm, "Dick, please. Watch your language."

Dick's grin widens, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "What? She started it," he says, pointing at you, his tone playful. "Besides I think she got more bark than bite."

You glare at him, ready to prove him wrong, you take another vase and lift it.

"Okay, where are you finding these?" Dick asks, his eyes darting around the foyer, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You ignore him and throw the vase. It arcs through the air, a silent scream of your anger, and for a moment, it seems to hang there, suspended by your rage alone. Then Bruce catches it with one hand. The shatter of breaking glass is replaced by the sound of his grip tightening around the vase's neck. His eyes never leave yours, his expression a mix of disappointment and understanding.

He had caught it. He actually caught it. You hadn't seen that coming, and for a moment, you're lost for words. The vase is whole in his hand, and you can feel the shock resonating through your body, like a cold shockwave from the explosion of your old life. You sit on the railing, your arm still extended from where you threw it, your mouth agape.

Bruce sets the vase down gently on a side table, the sound of it settling echoing through the silence.

"Are you done?" he asks, his voice steady despite the chaos you had just created.

But you weren't done. The fury inside you was like a wildfire, and it had no intention of being tamed. You stand on the railing, the cold wood pressing into your bare feet, sending a shiver up your spine. The drop to the floor below looks like an abyss, a chasm that mirrors the one inside you.

Bruce's eyes widen, his hand reaching out instinctively to grab you, even with you out of his reach. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice tight with concern.

You sneered at him. "You want to see what it looks like?" you spit the words out, your voice filled with a bitterness that surprised even you. "This is what it looks like," you gesture to the chaos around you. "This is what you're signing up for."

But Bruce didn't flinch. His hand remained outstretched, his eyes filled with a gentle concern that you hadn't seen since the night he'd saved you from the fire. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and soothing, "please get down. You're going to hurt yourself."

The word "sweetheart" grated on your nerves. You weren't anyone's sweetheart, especially not his. "You don't get to tell me what to do!" you screamed, the rage bubbling up like lava in a volcano, threatening to consume you whole. You felt the railing wobble beneath you, but you didn't care.

Bruce took a step closer, his hand still reaching out to you, the calmness in his eyes unwavering. "Come on," he said, his voice soothing. "You could fall."

You leaned back, the railing digging into your skin, "Why shouldn't I?" you screamed, the words tearing from your chest like shards of glass. "They're all dead! My mom, my dad. Gone. And I'm stuck here with strangers in a mansion that isn't mine!"

Without a warning, your feet slipped, the railing betraying you, and you plummeted towards the cold marble, broken vase pile, below. But before you could hit the unforgiving surface, strong arms caught you and pulled you back to safety. Bruce had moved faster than you ever thought possible, catching you in a grip that was firm yet gentle. You struggled against him, your anger a living force that didn't want to be contained.

"Let me go!" you screamed, trying to wriggle free. "Let me go!" You wanted to fall, to feel the pain that matched the agony in your soul. But Bruce's arms held you firmly, his grip a lifeline that you despised and craved all at once.

"Sweetheart," he said again, his voice a gentle reprimand. "You need to stop. You're going to get yourself seriously hurt."

You thrashed in his arms, desperate to escape, to feel something other than the burning in your chest. "Don't call me that!" you screamed, your fists pounding against his chest. "You have no right! You're not my family! You're not anything!"

But his grip held firm, his eyes never leaving yours. "Right now," he said, his voice steady as a rock in a storm, "I'm stopping you from hurting yourself. Do you want to hurt yourself?"

"You don't care! Nobody does," you screamed at him, tears stinging your eyes. You could feel your heart racing against his chest, the beat of your anger pulsing with every breath. "I'm just a troublemaking orphan with no care in the world! Now let me go!"

But he didn't. He adjusted you in his arms as he started walking up the stairs, his steps measured and calculated. His embrace was like a cage made of iron bars, keeping you from the freedom of the fall you had craved.

"I do care," he said, his voice a soothing rumble in your ear. "That's why I'm not letting you go."

You struggled against him, your nails digging into his arms, leaving behind a trail of red. "Liar!" you spat. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me!"

But Bruce didn't falter, didn't loosen his grip. He simply carried you down the hallway, his steps calm and deliberate. You continued to fight against him, your legs kicking wildly, trying to break free from his embrace. The mansion felt like it was closing in on you, the weight of the walls pressing down on your shoulders as he carried you to your room.

"Let me go!" you sobbed, the fight leaving your voice. "I want to go home! I want my dad!" The words echoed down the hall, bouncing off the cold stone walls and returning to you like a mocking chant.

Bruce didn't say anything as he kicked open the door to your room with a quiet determination. The door swung inward, revealing the sanctuary you had made your battleground. The room was a mess of discarded clothes and broken knick-knacks, a mirror of the chaos in your soul. He carried you over the threshold, the soft carpet underfoot a stark contrast to the hardness of the floor below.

As soon as he set you down, you tried to bolt, your legs moving faster than you had thought possible. But he was quicker. His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, the grip firm but not painful. You pulled away, trying to twist free, but he didn't let go.

"Let me go!" you screamed again, your voice raw with emotion. But Bruce just held you there, his gaze never wavering.

"You need to stop, now," he said firmly, his voice a command that you felt resonate through your bones. "Look at what you're doing to yourself, to this place."

"I don't care!" you screamed, still trying to pull your arm away from his iron grip. But he didn't let go. "I lost everything, my mom, my dad, why should I care?"

Bruce pulls you closer, his voice rising just enough to cut through the chaos in your head. "Is this what your parents would have wanted? For you to throw food, smash vases? Would they have wanted you to be this miserable?" His question hits you like a sledgehammer, the words echoing through the hollow cavern of your soul.

You stop struggling, tears staining your cheeks as you look at the man in front of you. For a moment, his eyes are no longer the cold, unfeeling pools of the billionaire playboy you've come to know, but those of a man who has seen his own share of pain.

"Would they?" he repeats, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. It's not a question anymore; it's a demand for you to see the truth.

With a snarl, you start pulling away again, not looking him in the eyes, not wanting to face the mirror of truth he holds up to you. The tears flow down your cheeks unchecked, leaving a salty trail on your skin as you try to wrench your wrist free. You can feel the heat of his hand, the strength behind his grip, and something else—his pain, his understanding. It's suffocating, and you need air.

But Bruce is relentless. He crouches down, bringing his face level with yours, his other hand gently taking your shoulder. "Look at me," he says, his voice a firm command that somehow manages to be gentle. You feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his eyes as they bore into you, and for the first time since you've been there, you hesitate. You're used to being the storm in the room, but now you feel like you're the one being studied under a microscope.

You look into his eyes, and for a moment, you see the flicker of something familiar—pain, loss, anger. It's like looking into a mirror reflecting a version of yourself that you didn't want to see. But instead of looking away, you hold his gaze, the two of you locked in a silent battle of wills.

"Your parents wouldn't want this," he says, his voice softer now, the command replaced by something approaching empathy. "They wouldn't want you to live in anger and fear. They'd want you to be happy."

You shake your head, tears blurring your vision. "No," you choke out, the words thick with disbelief.

Bruce's grip on your shoulder tightens slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "They'd want you to live," he says, his voice a gentle but firm reminder of the truth you've been dodging. "They'd want you to find a way to heal."

You look away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The room spins around you, a whirlwind of anger and grief. You feel his hand move to cup your chin, turning your face back to meet his. His thumb brushes away a tear that has escaped, a gesture so tender it feels foreign against your skin.

"Please," he whispers, his grip on your chin firm but gentle. "Let me help you." His eyes searched yours, looking for a glimmer of understanding, a spark of hope that he could be the anchor you needed in this tumultuous sea of emotion.

But you couldn't find it. The only thing you could feel was the weight of his words, the heaviness of his touch. "I hate you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The words slipped out like a secret you hadn't meant to share, and weren't sure you actually meant. But there they were, hanging in the air between you.

You pulled away from him, the warmth of his grip replaced by the cold reality of the room around you. Without looking back, you dashed towards your library, swinging the doors closed behind you with a resounding thud.

But even as you curled up in the armchair, you knew he was still there. You could feel his presence in your room, like a shadow that wouldn't leave. The silence was suffocating, filled with the ghosts of your shattered past and the weight of his unspoken words.

Bruce took a moment to gather himself before standing up, his movements slow and deliberate. He walked to the door, his boots clicking against the hardwood floor, each step echoing in the bedroom. His hand hovered over the library doorknob. His hand closes into a fist, and for a moment, he looks like he might say something more. But he doesn't. He just sighs a deep, heavy sound that seems to carry the weight of the world.

He pulls his hand away from the doorknob and takes a step back, his shoulders slumped slightly. The silence in the room is palpable, thick with the unspoken words and the echoes of your pain. Bruce looks at the closed door for a moment, his eyes reflecting the battle he's fighting within.

With a deep breath, he turns away and starts to walk to your bedroom door. Each step feels like a mile as he fights the urge to go back and comfort you. But he knows you need space, a chance to process the anger and grief that's consuming you like wildfire.

The door clicks shut behind him, the sound resonating through the hallway. He walks down the hall, his hands in his pockets, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders. He makes his way to the railing overlooking the grand foyer, the same spot where he'd found you moments ago. Leaning over, he looks down at the mess of vases and shattered porcelain, the shadows playing tricks with his eyes, making it seem as though the shards are reaching up to grab him.

The silence is a stark contrast to the tumult of your outburst. Bruce runs a hand through his hair, feeling the tension knotting in his neck. He knows that helping you isn't going to be as simple as patching up a broken vase. He sighs and heads towards the stairs, descending to the wreckage of what once was order and peace in his home. Dick is there, his eyes wide with shock at the chaos you've left in your wake.

As Bruce sits on the bottom step, Dick watches him, his own emotions a tangled web of confusion and concern. The young man opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He's not quite sure what to say to his mentor, who's clearly dealing with something more than just a temper tantrum. Instead, he takes a cautious step closer, the shards of porcelain crunching under his shoes.

"Bruce," he starts, his voice tentative.

"Mmm?" Bruce murmured, not looking up from the shards of porcelain scattered before him.

"Is she okay?" Dick asked, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity. "I've never seen anyone so… intense. Well, this kind of intense."

Bruce looked up, his eyes tired but determined. "She's lost," he said, his voice filled with a sadness that didn't quite match the sternness of his gaze. "But she'll find her way. Just… needs time."

Dick nodded, his gaze following Bruce's to the mess you'd created. He knelt down and began to pick up the shards of porcelain, his movements careful and precise. "You're going to keep her here?" he asked, his voice low.

"I have to," Bruce replied, his eyes never leaving the glass. "She's got nowhere else to go."

Dick nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "What's her deal?" he asked, continuing to clean up the mess, his eyes darting up to meet Bruce's every few seconds.

Bruce sighed heavily, leaning his head against the banister. "Her parents were killed," he said, his voice a low murmur. "It's a miracle I got her out of that fire. She's got a lot of anger to work through."

Dick paused in his cleaning, his eyes meeting Bruce's for a brief moment. "You think she'll be okay?"

Bruce nodded solemnly. "I'll make sure of it," he said with a conviction that sent a shiver down Dick's spine.

Dick looked at the shards of porcelain in his hand, then back up at Bruce. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice earnest.

Bruce's gaze remained on the mess before them. "For now, just keep an eye on her." he said, his voice heavy with responsibility.

Dick nodded, "I'll do my best," he said, his eyes meeting Bruce's with a fierce determination.

Bruce managed a small smile, the tension in his face easing slightly. "Thank you, Dick," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

"It's cool," he said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, I've had some experience with angry orphans."

Bruce's eyes shot up at that, a hint of amusement crossing his face before the weight of the situation settled back in. "You're one to talk," he said, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Dick grinned, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "What can I say?" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's a gift."

Bruce chuckles,. "Go get a broom," he said, "We've got a mess to clean up."

Part 5

[sh0esuke]

" Nothing On Me "

𝗠𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗰𝗲̀𝗻𝗲 : Jason Todd / Arkham Knight

𝗥𝗲́𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗲́ : Une vie passée cachée de tous n'en était pas vraiment une. Plus que consciente, elle acceptait ce train de vie sans même un regard en direction de son existence passée. Tant qu'il était là, elle pouvait bien tout mettre en l'air, peu lui importait. Car après tout, sa vie c'était lui. Qu'elle s'en aille loin de tous, qu'elle abandonne ses études, qu'elle fuie sa famille, tout ça n'eut aucun impact sur elle, pas même alors qu'il lui était revenu d'entre les morts. De nouveau, sa vie ne tournait plus que autour de son existence même, son premier et dernier amour. C'était ainsi le destin qu'elle avait choisi.

𝗔𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 : aucun.

ENG : PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORKS. If you want to translate it, ask me first then we can talk about it. If you want to find me on Wattpad, my account is in my bio, this is the ONLY ONE i have. FR : MERCI DE NE PAS VOLER MES OS. Si vous avez envie de les traduire, merci de me demander la permission avant. Si vous voulez me retrouver sur Wattpad, j'ai un lien dans ma bio, c'est mon SEUL compte.

𝙽𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚜 : 𝟑,𝟖𝟐𝟏.

Song : Nothing On Me - Kai

Commentaires, likes et reblogues super appréciés. Tout type de soutien l'est, merci beaucoup !! <33

Passant ma main sous le pommeau de douche, je frissonnai. L'eau était glacée.

La salle de bain était répugnante, du sol au plafond. Une odeur d'humidité flottait dans l'air, mélangée à celle d'herbes trempées, c'était pourquoi j'insistais toujours pour laisser la petite fenêtre entre la douche et le lavabo ouverte. Elle permettait d'aérer, elle apportait une certaine pointe de fraîcheur à la pièce. Elle n'effaçait pas les traces de crasse au sol, ni ne faisait disparaître les champignons qui avaient commencé à pousser sous l'évier, tout était dans le même état, rien n'avait bougé depuis ce matin. L'odeur était d'ailleurs toujours présente. Parfois je me demandais pourquoi je laissais cette fichue fenêtre ouverte ⸺celle-ci pourtant à côté d'une gare agitée. Cependant, lorsque j'oubliais de le faire et que je devais faire face à une odeur de renfermée chaude et intoxicante, je savais me montrer reconnaissante. Depuis le temps, j'avais retenu la leçon.

Malgré la condition sanitaire de la pièce, je laissais choir mes vêtements à même le sol. Ma brassière, mon boxeur et une vielle paire de socquettes blanches qui étaient à présent plus noires qu'autre chose. Tout traînait près du panier à linge qui débordait de vêtements malodorants.

Pendant que l'eau de la douche se réchauffait ⸺ce qui durait depuis déjà plus de cinq minutes⸺ je me lavais le visage. Je terminai de malaxer ma peau, évitant de faire tomber ma brosse à dents qui reposait sur le rebord du lavabo. Je venais à peine de me finir de me nettoyer la bouche, je n'avais pas pensé à la ranger immédiatement. Je n'avais aucune idée de quelle heure il était, je savais juste que nous étions bien loin de minuit, et que j'aurais dû être couchée depuis longtemps. Alors que je m'observai dans la glace brisée face à moi, cela m'importa peu.

J'essuyai mon visage d'une serviette à peu près propre et descendis jusqu'à ma nuque. Je tapotai la surface. Mes gestes furent très délicats.

Nue dans ma minuscule salle de bain, je chouchoutai mes traits autant que je le pouvais, de mes produits restants et avec les minutes de plus que j'avais à cause de la condition de ma douche.

Même après tous ces mois écoulés, je ne m'étais toujours pas faite à cette vie. Cet appartement miteux ne me revenait pas, ni le quartier violent dans lequel j'habitais. J'étais chanceuse lorsque le bruit des trains passants près de mon immeuble me réveillaient, parfois c'étaient des hurlements, le pleur de femmes battues, ou même des coups de feu.

Mais j'étais heureuse.

J'étais épanouie autant que je pouvais l'être dans une telle situation. C'était déjà ça, à mes yeux. C'était un sacrifice, il coûtait cher, mais je ne regrettais absolument rien.

Reposant ma serviette sur le petit crochet fixé au mur, j'ignorais la manière dont celui-ci se lit à trembloter pour faire volte-face. Je me chargeai rapidement de ma chevelure, parce que j'étais bien trop fatiguée pour les nettoyer ce soir, puis j'entrai dans la douche. J'aurais bien voulu refermer la porte coulissante derrière moi, cependant la porte en question était portée disparue. De l'eau éclaboussait le carrelage; c'était le cadet de mes soucis. J'étais bien trop occupée à passer mes doigts sur mon corps, partant de mes clavicules jusqu'à mes coudes. J'étais désormais trempée. De la tête aux pieds, des gouttes d'eau roulaient le long de mon  épiderme, chaudes et empestant la rouille. Autrefois, j'aurais questionné la qualité de l'eau, je serais sortie en vitesse de là, sanglotant et beuglant à l'assassin, néanmoins, ça n'était pas le cas. La moi actuelle s'en fichait éperdument.

J'étais heureuse d'être là.

Mes mains glissaient jusqu'à entrer en contact avec mes hanches, elles tombaient dans le bas de mon dos jusqu'à effleurer mon derrière. Je tâtai de ma chair, la tête renversée en arrière, le regard rivé sur le plafond doré de moisissures. Je n'étais même pas sûre de cligner des yeux. C'était délicieux. Cette chaleur s'emparant de moi, cette fumée brûlante qui envahissait la pièce et ce silence. J'en oubliai tout. Je me souvins de tout.

Mes pensées se bousculèrent, mon cœur s'emballa.

Et tandis que je remontai mes mains en direction de ma gorge, mes paupières se fermèrent. Je précipitai mes doigts entre les racines de mes cheveux, trempant mes poils et tâtant de la chaleur de mon cuir chevelu. Le flot d'eau provenant du pommeau de douche continuait à me tremper, telle une cascade, j'étais son socle, de l'eau me coulait entre les jambes, sur la pointe de mes seins, jusqu'à mes coudes, mes chevilles et orteils. Même mon dos ne put y échapper. De la tête au pied, j'étais noyée, enfouie sous ce tsunami de chaleur, il m'en brûlait la peau, il me marquait au fer rouge.

Ce ne fut que quelques minutes plus tard que je me décidais à bouger, le temps de reprendre possession de mon corps. Je me saisis d'un gel douche à la senteur fruitée, et fis usage de mes ongles et paumes afin de récurer ma chair jusqu'au sang.

Je snobai les picotements qui survinrent un peu partout sur mon corps, me mettant en garde.

J'ignorai le creux dans mon estomac me prévenant que je me situais sur une pente dangereuse.

À nouveau, j'oubliais tout.

À nouveau, je me souvenais de tout.

C'était une addition divisé, un oxymore qui me brûlait les neurones, un feu glacé qui me rendait malade. J'en avais les larmes aux yeux. Et je frottais. Mais je frottais. Je me nettoyais jusqu'à ne sentir que mes mains me toucher, j'ignorais le souvenir de ces mains violentes entre mes jambes, j'ignorais cette sensation d'être pincée et explorée un peu partout. J'ignorais ce sentiment d'humiliation, cette impression d'être réduite à l'état de proie.

Une simple brebis face au Prédateur.

Ce ne fut qu'étant pleinement satisfaite que j'acceptais de descendre en direction de mon ventre. Jugeant mes bras suffisamment purifiés, je les abandonnais à leur triste sort.

Frôlant la surface de mon nombril du bout de mes doigts, je sursautai. Une étrange réaction survint. Je levai le menton vers le pommeau et, les sourcils froncés, me mordis la lèvre inférieure. Je laissai mes bras retomber le long de mon corps. Un soupir fébrile s'échappa d'entre mes lèvres pendant que mon cœur s'emballait. Ses battements se firent plus désordonnés.

Et alors que je tentai de retrouver mon calme, une énorme secousse suivit d'un bruit assourdissant me prirent par surprise.

Je tournai la tête et vis une silhouette se dessiner devant l'entrée de la douche, quelque peu assombrie par l'absence de lumière ⸺il n'y avait qu'une vieille lampe torche sur l'évier pour faire le travail. Celle du plafond avait rendu l'âme deux mois plus tôt. Il avait laissé la porte grande ouverte, donnant sur le salon d'une obscurité angoissante, presque surnaturelle.

Une de ses mains se fraya un chemin sur la vitre de la cabine, il s'y tint.

« Je t'ai cherchée partout. »

Un sourire se dessina sur mes lèvres.

« Je suis là. »

Je me reculai de la source d'eau, ouvris mes bras et le laissai s'approcher. Jason passa ses bras autour de ma taille. Sans attendre, il me pressa contre lui, enfonçant son visage dans le creux de ma nuque.

« Il est quelle heure ? » demandai-je.

« Deux heure. »

« Mhh, tu rentres tard, ce soir. Qu'est-ce que tu faisais ? »

Il ne répondit pas.

« Jason ? »

« On s'en fiche, je suis rentré c'est le principal. »

Sa manière d'éviter ma question me contraria légèrement. J'aurais voulu en savoir plus, j'aurais voulu l'épauler, malheureusement, je n'étais plus l'oreille contre laquelle il pouvait se confier. Depuis qu'il était revenu d'entre les morts ⸺quelques mois auparavant, il était devenu méconnaissable. Jason me cachait tant de choses, j'étais d'ailleurs l'une d'entre-elles. Enfermée à double tours dans ce vieil appartement miteux, je n'étais pas mieux que le reste de ses secrets.

« Mhh, tu as raison. Bon retour à la maison, mon amour. »

Mes bras étaient passés autour de sa nuque, je les dépliai avec pour objectif de caresser ses joues. Tout en pressant la pulpe de mon pouce contre sa cicatrice, je plongeai mon regard dans le sien. Jason sursauta au contact. Il ne me repoussa cependant pas. Il conservait ses bras autour de ma taille trempée, lui toujours habillé.

Sa peau était chaude, de lui émanait une odeur métallique. Il n'était vêtu que d'un simple t-shirt vert foncé et d'un pantalon noir suivit de chaussettes. Rien ne me parut suspicieux et j'étais si comblée à l'idée de le retrouver que rien d'autre n'attira mon attention. Jason me serra contre lui. Il plaqua mes seins nus à son torse, mon bassin contre le sien et fit se toucher nos fronts. Je glissai mes doigts dans sa chevelure, soupirant un peu. Puis, je murmurai gentiment :

« Tu veux te doucher avec moi ? »

Jason hocha la tête.

Je reculai donc à l'intérieur de la douche et l'emportai avec moi. Immédiatement, nos lèvres se rencontrèrent. La cascade d'eau retomba du sommet de ma tête jusqu'à mes pieds pendant que je m'accrochais à lui si désespérément que j'en avais fermé mes paupières. Jason avait fait de même. Je le sentis se débarrasser de ses vêtements en même temps, il avait commencé par en bas, déposant de léger baisers sur mes lèvres lorsque ses mouvements nous forçâmes à nous séparer. Puis il s'était dépêché de faire pareil avec son t-shirt pour venir se presser entièrement contre ma silhouette.

Jason m'enferma dans une étreinte ardente, si chaude que la température brûlante de l'eau qui nous tombait dessus en aurait presque eu honte. La sensation de ses bras autour de moi, de nos torses se frottant l'un contre l'autre, nos lèvres se rencontrant sans une once de répit... C'était divin. À l'instar d'un festin royal dont les saveurs faisaient exploser mon cœur dans une symphonie de pulsations.

Je le sentais partout autour de moi.

Jason et moi ne faisions qu'un, nous étions à présent le socle de cette cascade humide, rongés par cette même eau, bougeant au même rythme et notre épiderme fusionnant de part cette chaleur qui nous faisait petit à petit fondre. J'en avais des vertiges. Mes poumons se fidèrent de dioxygène à la vitesse de l'éclair, je m'accrochais à lui, me cramponnais à sa chair et goûtais ses lèvres humides. Jason répondait à ma vivacité avec passion, il s'agrippait à la chair de mes hanches, frottait son corps nu au mien dans des mouvements erratiques. Ça n'avait rien de pressé ni de sexuel, c'était sensuel et séducteur. L'effort que nous faisions à nous embrasser ne signifiait pas notre empressement quant à ne faire qu'un, c'était plutôt sous l'emprise d'un fort sentiment de soulagement que nous agissions. J'étais heureuse de le retrouver, c'était de même pour lui.

Jason remonta une main en direction de ma nuque, il s'en saisit et rapprocha nos visages. Il contrôlait le tempo et l'intensité de notre baiser.

Ses lèvres se moulaient parfaitement à la forme des miennes, notre salive ne faisait qu'un, gênée à répétition par l'averse qui nous tombait dessus. Le goût métallisé provenant du pommeau de douche me fit grimacer, cependant les caresser qu'exerçait Jason sur ma nuque suffirent à me distraire. J'en venais à gémir contre lui.

Je poussais une petite plainte dans sa bouche, il répondit dans un grognement grave.

C'en était presque animal, primitif, la manière avec laquelle j'étais pressée contre lui, comme si sans lui je risquais de manquer d'air. C'était bien plus que ça en soi. Son étreinte était bien plus que deux simples mains qui me pressaient contre lui, c'était notre fusion; corps et âme, c'était une connexion qui allait au delà des mots, qui transcendait toutes les réflexions que j'avais pu avoir jusqu'à présent.

J'aurais pu mourir ainsi, les poumons écrasés par ma cage thoracique, la respiration saccadée et la gorge ravagée par des brûlures enflammées. Tout ça pour rester auprès de lui. Pour toujours et à jamais.

Toutefois, il fallut que Jason se recule.

Ses paumes de mains se posèrent sur mes épaules, il embrassa doucement mon front, puis l'arête de mon nez, et imposa quelques centimètres entre nous afin que nos regards puissent se croiser. Je papillonnai des yeux. Il nous fit sortir du dessous du pommeau, en direction de la sortie de la douche et arrangea ma chevelure avec une minutie attendrissante. Elle me fit fondre sur place, les pupilles pétillantes et le bas ventre en compote.

« Tu es encore plus belle que dans mes souvenirs. » il murmura.

« Jason... »

J'avais l'impression que mon cœur allait exploser.

« Merci d'être venue avec moi, merci de m'avoir suivi jusqu'ici. »

Jason embrassa le coin de ma bouche, puis ma mâchoire, puis ma tempe et il finit avec le milieu de mes sourcils. Il me dora de baisers, la prise de ses mains sur mon visage plus ferme que jamais.

« Je t'ai promis mondes et merveilles et j'y arriverai. » insista-t-il. « Tu mérites pas moins que ça, mon cœur. »

« Tant que tu me reviens. »

Je le pris par surprise en interceptant ses lèvres, je l'embrassai à mon tour.

« C'est tout ce que je veux. Toi. Toi et juste toi. Seulement toi. »

« Je t'aime. »

Une armée de papillons s'en allèrent chatouiller mon bas ventre. Je frémissai contre lui, incapable de réprimer le rictus qui prenait place sur mes lèvres.

« Moi aussi. »

Je l'embrassai.

« Je t'aime. Je t'aime. »

Tout était inhabituel depuis qu'il m'était revenu. J'avais appris son décès et m'étais immédiatement enfermée dans une dépression qui me fit frôler la mort du bout des doigts plus de fois que j'aurais aimé l'admettre. Malgré l'aide de ses frères, et de ses amis, il m'avait été impossible de tourner la page. Passer à autre chose après avoir aimé Jason Todd n'était pas une mince affaire. J'avais refusé tout type d'aide. Je m'étais enfermée dans ma chambre pendant des semaines entières et j'avais vécu avec pour simple compagnie le souvenir de son sourire et son odeur corporelle enduite sur ses vêtements. Lorsqu'il m'était revenu, j'avais cru devenir folle. Il était resté flou, je ne connaissais que les grandes lignes, la seule dont je me souvenais était sa proposition. Tout quitter le temps que les choses s'arrangent ou le quitter et définitivement tourner la page.

Alors oui, tout était inhabituel. De ce vieil appartement qu'il avait trouvé dans un des quartiers les plus miteux de Gotham, jusqu'à notre routine. Jason disparaissait presque tous les jours à faire je ne savais quoi. Parfois, il ramenait des tonnes de liasses d'argent qu'il cachait dans l'un des murs de notre cuisine, d'autre, il me revenait tout égratigné et m'empêchait de le questionner. Ce Jason était différent de celui que j'avais autrefois connu.

Celui que j'avais face à moi était plus sérieux, il avait perdu son éclat d'antan. Lorsque nous nous retrouvions, dans ces moments là, cette différence me dépaysait.

Cependant, une chose me restait familière : l'amour que je lui portais.

Lorsqu'il me caressait, m'embrassait, lorsqu'il me susurrait des mots doux au creux de l'oreille ou même lorsque nous ne faisions qu'un, il réveillait cette flamme de passion au sein de mon cœur, cette même flamme qui s'était embrasée la première fois que nos regards s'étaient croisés. Elle n'avait jamais disparu. Malgré tout Jason ne cessait de la raviver. À chaque toucher, parole, coup d'œil, il me faisait davantage l'aimer.

Je m'en fichais de ce qu'il me cachait.

Je me fichais de la provenance de tout cet argent.

Je me fichais de sa rancœur à l'égard de son père.

Je me fichais de tout tant qu'il me revenait vivant. Ma plus grande peur était de le perdre à nouveau, alors je refusais de le faire fuir avec toutes mes questions. J'avais juste besoin de savoir qu'il m'aimait et que jamais il ne me quitterait. Pour l'instant, Jason s'en sortait à merveille. Malgré le côté redondant de mon quotidien et mes conditions de vie inquiétantes, la pensée que je n'avais besoin que de lui pour être heureuse s'était rapidement certifiée.

Le sol à mes pieds aurait bien pu s'écrouler, il me suffisait d'entendre le son de sa voix et de sentir sa peau sur la mienne pour savoir que tout irait bien. Car tant qu'il était là, j'étais saine. J'étais complète. J'étais comblée.

Ma bouche trouva la cicatrice sur sa joue. Jason tourna la tête sur le côté, alors je le chassai et déposai un baiser sur sa mâchoire. Nous ne tardâmes pas à nous laver, l'eau de la douche ayant suffisamment coulé comme ça. Nous sortîmes de la salle de bain une dizaine de minutes plus tard. Vêtue d'un bas de jogging à lui et d'un simple soutien-gorge, je le suivis, main dans la main, jusqu'à notre lit ⸺un simple clic-clac dans le salon. Jason s'assit dessus et me guida sur ses cuisses, je pris place sans mal, ma poitrine collée à ses clavicules et mes bras passés autour de ses épaules.

L'appartement était minuscule, il n'y avait que deux pièces, un salon ⸺plus un petite cuisine, et une salle de bain. Dans un des murs était incrustée une armoire dans laquelle le peu de vêtements que nous avions étaient rangés. La qualité de l'endroit laissait à désirer, les murs, le sol et le plafonds manquaient d'isolation, les secousses provenant de la gare à côté handicapaient notre quotidien malgré les mois que nous avions déjà passé ici, nous n'avions jamais pu nous y habituer. Le frigo contenait mal nos restes de nourriture, il n'y avait pas de four et le micro-onde m'avait lâché la semaine dernière lorsque j'avais cherché à réchauffer mon bol de soupe. Sans parler du bazar qui traînait un peu partout dont nous étions responsables; entre bouts journaux, miettes de gâteaux, vêtements et sous-vêtements, objets parfois indescriptibles, CDs, cassettes, fils d'électroniques.

Nous vivions dans un chaos pur, avec au centre, juste lui et moi. Nous deux.

Je le sentais, toujours aussi proche de moi. Je le regardais dans le blanc des yeux, le corps chaud et un stupide sourire dessiné sur mes lèvres. Jason avait abandonné ses mains sur mes hanches, il jouait du bout de ses doigts avec l'élastique de mon ⸺son⸺ jogging. De cette manière, je me sentais invincible. Pas dans le sens où je me sentais forte, capable de tout surmonter, non. Je n'avais pas l'étoffe d'une héroïne. Malgré tout, je me sentais bel et bien invincible, je le devais à Jason. À ses côtés j'avais l'impression de ne rien risquer. J'étais certaine qu'il resterait à mes côtés, qu'il me protégerait : d'autrui, de mes souvenirs et traumatismes, de n'importe quoi. Tout ce qui aurait pu me blesser d'une quelconque manière.

J'aurais tout donné pour rester ainsi.

« T'as mangé ? » il me demanda.

« J'avais pas faim. »

Jason releva un sourcil.

« Tu m'as attendu, c'est ça ? Je t'ai déjà dit de pas le faire. » pesta-t-il dans un soupir. « Je t'avais laissé un peu d'argent sur le comptoir, t'y as même pas touché. »

« Je sais.. Mais m'en veux pas, j'étais persuadée que tu rentrerais tôt. »

« Je t'ai manqué ? »

« Quelle question... »

Il me pinça les hanches.

« Réponds, je sais que c'est vrai. »

« Eh ! »

Je plissai les yeux à la vue de son rictus taquin.

« Bien sûr que tu m'as manqué. Je t'ai attendu du matin jusqu'au soir. » marmonnai-je en roulant des yeux. « Tu mérites même pas que je te réponde. »

« Tu m'as manqué aussi, mon cœur. »

Je gloussai et me rapprochai de lui. Jason en profita pour lâcher mes hanches et plutôt les entourer de ses bras. Il me pressa contre lui, de nos bassins jusqu'à nos ventres et ma poitrine contre son torse. L'étreinte fut splendide, si romantique et passionnée. J'en eu des frissons. Le bout de nos nez se frôlèrent, finalement, nos fronts entrèrent en contact. Doucement, je vis ses yeux se fermer. Jason expira ensuite un doux soupir.

« Tu vas dormir ? » je l'interrogeai et passai mes doigts dans sa chevelure.

« Ouais, je suis crevé. » il répondit.

Son emprise sur mon corps me forçait à le suivre lorsqu'il me fit pivoter sur le côté et entrer en contact avec le matelas du clic-clac. Jason nous fit juste après reculer. Nous arrivâmes au niveau de nos oreillers respectifs, et il s'allongea sur moi, sans jamais lâcher mon estomac. De sa bouche, s'échappait un soupir d'aise. Sa tête se frotta à ma poitrine, il y trouva grand réconfort, sans ouvrir les yeux ne serait-ce qu'une fois. Je l'accueillais à bras ouverts. La vue de son expression détendue me sut suffisante. Ses traits étaient relâchés et les rayons lunaires provenant de la fenêtre juste à côté l'éclairait si joliment. J'en avais des papillons dans le ventre, le cœur qui pétillait. Il était magnifique, il m'était impossible de me lasser dès que mes yeux se posaient sur lui. J'étais irrésistiblement attirée par lui, charmée, envoûtée. Il m'était impossible de détourner le regard.

Jason déposa de doux baisers sur mon décolleté, il embrassa ma peau, me pressa contre lui. La manière dont il s'accrochait à moi était autant désespérée que passionnée. Je faisais de même en retour. Mes doigts se noyèrent dans sa chevelure corbeau, je l'agrippai et abaissai ma tête de manière à coller ma joue au sommet de son crâne.

C'était d'une perfection inconcevable.

Plus rien ne vint polluer mon esprit, je ne me souvenais plus de rien, n'omettais plus rien en retour. Tout ce qui comptait en cet instant se trouvait en mon sein, au creux de mon cœur. C'était lui, Jason Todd. Rien d'autre.

Je le vis s'assoupir, l'eus accompagné à l'aide de tendres caresses. Sa respiration s'était calmée, la force avec laquelle il m'eut précédemment maintenue en place disparue simultanément. Une demie heure s'écoula. Ne trouvant toujours pas le sommeil, j'étais malgré tout restée là, à ses côtés, attendrie par l'expression adorable sur son visage et tout autant intriguée par la cicatrice en forme de J incrustée dans sa joue. Je l'avais frôlé de mon pouce, j'avais ensuite embrassé sa tempe.

J'avais pris soin de lui aussi longtemps que possible. Morphée ne tarda pas à me voler, lorsque ma garde s'était baissée et que la fatigue avait commencé à me cueillir. Il m'accueillit à son tour et m'emporta dans le même monde de douceur dans lequel Jason avait déjà trouvé réconfort. Je l'y rejoignis avec hâte.

[the-catmans-offical-2]

for the ask meme.... ling >:3

Fuck I forgot I saw this

How I feel about this character

-> Ling's a silly guy. A skrunkly even. I put him up there with, like, Wrath 03 in terms of liking.

-> I honestly really like his clothing, they're bright and eye catching in the good ways. That's what originally drawn me to him when I first watched brotherhood. He's also the reason I recently got back into the FMA fandom and FMA in general!!

-> I'd let him eat me out of house and home.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

-> EDLING!!! *BANG BANG BANG* EDLING!!! I love Edling, him and Ed live in my head rent free. Their relationship is just.. It's like stealing a shopping cart from Shoppers and riding it down a big hill into on coming traffic, somehow missing all the cars, and then the cart falls over randomly, and you fall out. Just, fucking dead. That's Edling to me. I want to blow them up and I want to just JEVSNS idk I want them DEAD. (Can't you tell how sane I am about Edling?)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

-> LinFan, (is that the ship name?). They're siblings your honor. Ling and LanFan have mlm and wlw solidarity. They're so silly, but LanFan is probably like an overprotective sister for him. (Not probably, that's just how she is actually.)

-> Honestly? Fucking Ling and Al. We, as a Fandom, talk about how Ed and Ling are chaotic as fuck. LING AND AL WOULD BE AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE IF THEY BECAME BFFS!! (If you ship them, then that's even worse/pos)

-> Greedling. I already talked about this on my Greed post thing, but I'm gonna say it here too. They're soul brothers, they brothers, cousins, whatever. They're related and that's just a fact.

My unpopular opinion about this character

-> Ling's smarter than y'all give him credit for. (Yes, he will probably eat anything and he might not know some things due to culture differences, but that doesn't make him dumb.) He has more street smarts after fighting for 15 years of his life to survive, but he's also smart in terms of politics and stuff because he's *FUCKING TRYING TO RULE HIS HOME COUNTRY!!!!*

-> Ling is fucking iconic, no I won't elaborate.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

-> I wish he was in 03. I wish I could've been able to see how they would've done the Xingese cast (I bet they would've done amazing, I love 03).

-> Speaking of 03; I wish that he could've met Wrath 03. Rip Wrath, you probably would've hated Lung Yao (or they worse, they would've been friends...)

-> Uhh idk what else to put. I need to rewatch bh still.

[gamesimp]

Mr. American Pie - A Mafia 3 Fanfiction (Part 2)

Note: long time no post, I suck at this so I tried doing more effort this time ughh.

Life with Donovan was perfect, we managed to get a new house in the suburbs, we managed to balance crime and a normal life. I was a co-leader of the Southeast Asian-American Triads. Consisting of mostly Vietnamese and Filipino immigrants who look for money, power and refuge from the War in Vietnam or the racist American society who looks down on them. But as my main job, I work as a manager at the shitty airport where I always need to rid the runway of gators. I thought being able to manage the airport was a good decision since it is Southeast Asian-American turf. As of Donovan, he still is Lincoln's advisor.

It was a summer sunday afternoon and it was absolutely burning. I decided I would stay in my skivies to cool myself down. While I was making some iced tea in the kitchen. I heard the doorbell ring. I picked up my gun but the person at the doorbell started to ring it impatiently.

"im coming wait right there!"

I ran towards the door and opened the door halfway while hiding my gun. I loomed to see who was outside and there stood a woman.

"Uhm, isn't Mr. Donovan supposed to live here?"

She asked.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Im an old friend of his, Im Jackie, Jackie Grimaldi."

"Oh, I think hes told me about you."

"Can I come inside?"

"yeah, come in."

I lead her to the living room.

"are you (your name)?"

She asked while I brought Iced tea to the living room.

"Why are you asking?"

"Youre from Sinclair Parish RightYou killed an entire bunch of klan members because they killed your Filipino-American family and neighbors?"

"oh that's me! Where did you get that info?"

"I remember you! You we're also close to Mr. Clay!"

Donovan finally arrived. They had a short chat about reminiscing about the past back in Vietnam.

I went back to the kitchen and looked at the calendar, it reminded me of the years I've spent with Donovan, and I realised we can't get married no matter what we do. We don't know any priests that could elope us. We only know Father James, (who ignores us unless hes about to say negative remarks to start a fight with Donovan or Lincoln after church)

I realise its time for me to go to work.

"Donnie! I'm heading out for work!"

"Have a good day at work!"

He yells back as i walk out the door.

I got to my new car, It was an AMC Pacer, not the quickest but at least, it isn't too flashy.

I turn the key and the engine comes on. I tune the radio to WNBX and it plays "Barracuda" by Heart. I went on my way to the airport and started my job. I was in my office when the phone rang.

"It's me, Lincoln. Make sure cops aren't settin foot on that runway, we got a shipment of stolen cars from Japan coming in!"

"sure thing buddy!"

I walked towards the runway and conversed with a Japanese man.

"Hello sir, please to meet you!"

I yelled and bowed as the jet engines roared around us.

"Kuray-San (Clay-San) has started operations with the Yakuza! But we need your help removing the communist gangs from here!"

"The bratva if im right?"

I asked

"Yes mister, we, the Yakuza need your help to get the Russians out of the picture, they always steal our products! And they seem to dislike Mr Clay San's work!"

"understood! I'll notify him immediately!"

I said as the Yakuza members got into his Toyota limousine and was escorted by a bunch of Datsun Z's and other JDM sport cars. I decided to drive to the bar and tell Lincoln about it.

I parked by the backdoor. I walked to the backdoor panting and in a hurry. I knocked 3 times. I anxiously waited for Lincoln to open the door. The door burst open.

"Hey there! Whats the rush?"

"We need a meeting at the plantations!"

I quickly replied.

We all arranged a sit down with 5 other bosses, Burke, Vito, Cassandra, and two new underbosses. Sister Ling who is in the Chinese Triads, and Rafael Guzman, from the Colombian cartel.

"Ok guys, listen up! Donovan will present new enemy for the Clay Crime family and for all of you!"

Donovan used a corkboard for is presentation.

"basically, these Ruskies want half of all our business, but ever since Lincoln didn't agree with the deal, they started disrupting rackets and trade with the other international gangs. We need to show these fucking communists thay we dont give a shit, and they can go fuck themselves go back to Mother Russia!"

"all right!!"

I said and the other underbosses started hooting and laughing.

[truly-morgan]

[Haunted house (w.i.p)]

Jiang Cheng + Juniors | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU + Ghost AU 06-02-2022

[300 Followers prompt winner: #JiangCheng & #JuniorQuartet, haunted house]

The group of friends had decided to go to Ouyang Zizhen’s house for the summer break, to see a bit of the more rural regions of Yunmeng.

“I am curious about where my mom is coming from,” admitted Jin Ling when his friend asked why the sudden request to spend a part of the summer with him (not that he was complaining about the suggestion). Of course, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui decided to tag along.

The train ride was pretty uneventful, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen sleeping through a big part of it. It was to be expected, they did take one of the earliest trains.

They were picked up by the young man's mother, three of them squeezing at the back (Lan Sizhui in the middle to avoid a fight between Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling). Thankfully no fight happened, as they were more occupied with talking with their friend's mother.

Truly a nice lady she was, asking how college was going for everyone.

Once they were at their friend's house they took the rest of the day to settle in their rooms and visit Baling. It was truly a different atmosphere from the big city Jin Ling had grown up in.

It was only the next day that Lan Jingyi came up to them with an idea.

"I found some old abandoned house that is said to be haunted," Lan Jingyi said, "although the outside picture gives more mansion vibes than a house".

It had already been a couple of years since the group of friends had gotten into visiting an old abandoned building, it was a bonus if it was thought to be haunted.

They always went the four of them, as to make it safer in case something happened, thankfully nothing serious ever happened before.

“Do you know since when it has been abandoned?” Oyang Zizhen asked out of curiosity, scooting over closer to look at his friend’s phone.

“It says the fire happened nearly three decades ago!” Lan Jingyi informed, making his friends all surprised.

“So long ago? Are you sure the place is still up?” Lan Sizhui asked, looking over his shoulders at the faraway picture that did look recent.

“after so long I am surprised no one did anything with the land, it does look pretty big,” he remarked.

Jin Ling nodded at his friend’s comments, it was indeed pretty peculiar that the place was still up after so long.

No one ever brought the land? No one ever tried to put everything to the ground and rebuilt over it?

From what Lan Jingyi had told them, the mansion was on the border of Lotus Pier, which was one of the bigger cities close to Baling.

It was probably a good twenty minute drive to this place from here. “Are there any buses with a stop nearby?” Lan Sizhui asked, everyone, looking clearly interesting to go check out this place.

“I could drive us here” Ouyang Zizhen mentioned, getting everyone’s attention.

“You have a driver's licence?!” Lan Jingyi asked, surprised by the news.

The young man only smiled at them, unsure why this was such a surprise. “Well, it can be useful and my dad made me take the lesson” he explained.

"It would be easier and faster if we did this, I am sure I can borrow my mother’s car for it”.

They all decided this would indeed be a pretty good idea, so they took the day to prepare for their little expedition. It was not every day they found such a big abandoned house, even less with such a large land around it that no neighbour could see them snooping around for fun. It wasn’t like they were going there to steal anything or break things up, they were just curious as to what was still there.

It wasn’t hard to convince their friend’s mother to let them borrow the car, pretending they would go visit Lotus Pier. They were all pretty excited, trying to guess what they might find in the house.

The previous owners had probably taken some of the things that could be salvaged, maybe some people came to steal, but they still wonder if some of the old furniture would be left behind.

“Did you manage to find out why the house is said to be haunted?” Ouyang Zizhen asked Lan Jingyi who had been searching about the history of the house with Jin Ling throughout the previous day.

“Some passersby said having seen the figure of a man inside despite the house being vacant for so long,” Jin Ling said, “Some people who went inside the house were scared away by a ghost, everyone’s description seems to be the same man”.

“Apparently someone died in the fire of thirty years ago” Lan Jingyi added, “So people assumed it’s the same person now haunting the place”.

They had often gone to supposed haunted houses and had yet to see any of these. It was pretty weird that people always seemed to see the same man, but they could also have been tricked by their own beliefs about the house.

They nearly missed the entrance to the driveway, the place being so unkempt that plants were taking over the original entry. They tried parking more behind a large bush, not wanting for people to notice the car too easily and call the cops on them either.

“Let’s check out the outside first, see if any doors are unlocked or opened” Jin Ling suggested. Plus, since the house had been abandoned for so long after a fire, it would let them see which part of the house was really damaged and to be more careful around.

They looked around the front for a while, seeing many of the windows which had been broken over the years. The front door was unlocked, which wasn't that surprising. The place has had people coming inside in the past decades, it was bound to not be locked.

It was to wonder if the place even had any owner anymore and if that owner has even stepped foot here in the past years.

Despite all the crawling plants blocking the view they still determined the house was a little old-style.

Well, it was three decades old already and the place had probably not been constructed only three decades ago.

"Such a nice house" Lan Sizhui commented, "what a shame the place had such a terrible accident".

"I wonder why the owner did not try to salvage it, '' Ouyang Zizhen added.

"Maybe the fire caused too much damage to it and it needed to be destroyed," Jin Ling suggested as he made his way around the house.

"But you heard Lan Jingyi earlier, someone died in the house, maybe the family couldn't stand living where one of them died so terribly".

They did not argue, their friend had a good point.

It was understandable if someone couldn't stand living in the house after what had happened, especially if the spirit of this person was still trapped there.

"Did you find out if it was a child?" Lan Sizhui asked, frowning a bit at the idea.

It seemed even more tragic if it was indeed the case. It would be even more understandable to not want to live there anymore, although it was already understandable in any case.

“People who said having seen the ghost describe it to be a young man, or at the very least a teenager” Lan Jingyi replied. No report seemed to be talking about a young child.

They entered the courtyard of the house, more crawling plants covering the walls just like the front. The windows were a little less bad here, although many were still broken.

The courtyard looked good, despite its overgrown grass. It was pretty big, enough to have a small pond with a platform in the middle. It looks like a set of chairs and a table was there in the past, where one could enjoy the weather under the shade made by the structure.

“They have Lotus here too” commented Ouyang Zizhen after checking out the pond more closely. This made Jin Ling walk over, only to note that it did look like what they had in the garden of their house and where his mother would often enjoy some tea. It looked too similar even.

“This is so nice, their courtyard even connects to a lake!” Lan Jingyi commented as he followed a small ditch connecting the pond to the lake. “It looks perfect for hot summer days, they even have a pier”.

Despite the yard connecting to a lake, it still had a pool too. Although none of them would even dare set foot in it. Even though the pond was looking alright since it was connected to the lake, this pool was just the worst.

Algas had clearly grown at the bottom of it, the stagnant water looking green with many debris floating in it. They all made a face when they even found a dead toad floating in the water. They quickly left that alone.

At the back near the lake was a small building, most likely where all the gardening tools were stored. They did check it out, but the place was pretty much empty, aside from some old-looking gardening tools.

Clearly, no one had touched these in years, even the door was a bit hard to open.

These were really the highlights of the courtyard really. They could guess that the patio had a table and some chairs before too, but it was now only a wooden platform.

If anything had been left behind, it was already taken away now.

“Guys look at this,” Oyang Zizhen called out as they were standing in the gazebo in the middle of the lotus pond.

“It looks like a part of the roof caved in” he pointed out when they all looked towards where he was pointing.

“I guess we will need to be careful around that place of the house” Jin Ling mentioned.

This was partly why they usually tried to check out the place beforehand if it wasn’t too big. It was better to know this before getting inside the place. “Let’s get in now, I don’t think we’ll find anything more out here” he suggested.

They all agreed, going back to the front of the house to get back to the door. They checked quickly to make sure no one seemed to have seen them and had parked near the house, before finally going inside the house.

"It sure doesn't smell like roses" Lan Jingyi commented, only for Jin Ling to roll his eyes at this.

"When have we ever found somewhere that does smell good?" asked Jin Ling with a click of his tongue. He ignored the reply his friend was giving him, fishing around in his bag for a flashlight.

The inside was surprisingly dark despite it being the middle of the day and sunny. Maybe the crawling plants outside weren't helping by blocking the view.

The place looked clearly abandoned, old furniture looking dirty and about to fall apart from all the years that passed and the tragedy it went through. The couple hint here and there of things having been moved around throughout more recent years of the house’s vacancy.

“The furniture still looks good though, although it is a bit dated” Lan Jingyi commented next, letting himself fall on a couch that squeaked under his weight. Jin Ling made a face at his action, looking at the armchair next to him.

“I swear I will never understand how you never caught anything when you touch everything that is most likely mouldy, I bet some wild animal peed on this couch” he commented, his nose scrunched up in disgust at the thought of sitting on this couch.

This sure made his friend stand up quickly, looking down at the couch. It was a bit hard to tell exactly if it was truly that bad or not.

Their friend laughed a bit at their usual bickering, moving around the room to see if there was anything left to see about the family.

All Lan Sizhui and Oyang Zizhen managed to really find were already pretty damaged by the years and the fire. Old framed pictures barely allow you to see clearly who was on them with all the dust, ashes and water damage.

Still, they found a couple of them that were still vaguely alright.

“Guys I think we found a picture of the old owners” Oyang Zizhen smiled as he turned back towards the two other friends who were still arguing while trying to lift up an old heavy cabinet that had fallen down.

They quickly finished pulling up the heavy hardwood cabinet before coming over, looking at the picture.

“They sure look like people who would live in such a big house” Lan Jingyi commented. Jin Ling took the picture to look at it more closely, but it was a bit hard to see the faces, especially with the quality of the picture. Yet, from the little he could see, he felt like some trait looked familiar, but he couldn’t say what it was.

He gave back the picture to his friend so he could put it back above the fireplace, turning back to look at the cabinet. Suddenly something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, the beam of his light quickly moving to the top of the stairs.

The young man couldn’t help but frown a bit, eyes darting around a little bit.

“Something’s wrong?” Oyang Zizhen asked, also looking in the direction of the light, shining his in the same spot.

“...Nothing, I thought I saw something moving, maybe it was just a squirrel or my imagination” Jin Ling answered, turning back towards his friend.

“Is our young mistress scared now?” Lan Jingyi teased, gaining a roll of eyes from said ‘young mistress’. Soon the friend moved on, going back to the cabinet the two of them had lifted up, curious to see if there was anything interesting in it.

Jin Ling couldn’t but look back up at the stairs. He simply couldn’t shake off this feeling he had earlier. He was certain he had seen someone up there. He bite his lips a little, wondering if he should tell his friend, after all, it could be dangerous meeting other people in the middle of nowhere like this.

Still, he felt like it was probably just his imagination. No one could move around so quickly without being noticed or making any sounds, especially with all the things on the ground that would have surely made a little bit of sound in this weirdly silent house.

He was taken out of his observation by his name being called out again, quickly joining his friend after one last look.

Yeah, he was just imagining things.

(tbc)

Original

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Nineteen: Scarborough Fair Pt. 7

“We should get a newspaper, this town has me on edge now with how they’re behaving.” Muin said as she honed in on the glass case holding the newspaper hostage in its cold embrace.

“Given that the Fuhrer is murdering people left and right, who can blame them?” Ling responded as he went to sit down, debating on getting some food as his stomach made an uproar.

“No, this is something else. They would’ve been vacating the area if it had been about the Fuhrer.” Muin carefully aimed a throwing knife, the blade whistling in the air before hitting its target, shattering the glass case holding the newspaper hostage.

“And now we can add destruction of public property to our list of things we’ve done while in Amestris…great…” Ling had a very strong feeling that once things had settled in Amestris, there would be a very likely if not inevitable outcome of being banned from this blood soaked country.

 “Hush now child, we got something else bigger than trivial human affairs.” Muin hissed as she looked over the now ‘liberated’ newspaper to figure out what’s going on in this particular area.

 “Those aren’t trivial matters, this is going to snowball into an international incident…what are you looking at Muin?” Ling took a chance to look over what Muin is reading at the moment.

“The thing that outshines your woes, we got another monster besides this Fuhrer thing going on. I suppose our visit to this area will have to be cut short.” Muin mumbled as she debated if there was a possibility of being able to fight off whatever is going on by herself.

 “Okay, maybe Tinne was right about this nation being a war happy one…just what country allows their civilians to disappear en masse like this?” Ling looked at the article about people disappearing overnight as well as missing cattle, homes being destroyed in the process.

 “I suppose that would be of concern for the humans, however, if our Queen is here, we need to locate her at once and teleport back to Xing.” Muin started her trot back to Gef to inform him about this new little twist to their situation.

 “Muin, wait, we shouldn’t rush this! People are staring at us!” Ling protested as the eyes of the gathering crowd just watched the little spectacle unfold.

 “No, we can’t wait. Our Queen is somewhere in this gods forsaken area with possibly two monsters on the loose. We need to fire up the equipment and locate her at once.” Muin reasoned, not giving any sort of afterthought about the mortal population watching this weirdo knife a newspaper case and stealing a paper from it.

 “Muin, what’s going on? We’re gaining a bit of an audience here with the ruckus.” Gef asked as he turned his attention away from cleaning the car up.

  “Well that’s very simple, take a look at the newspaper article.” Muin handed Gef the newspaper to look over at the worrying article.

“...Shit, okay, Victoria, Ngetal, I need you both to start up the equipment at once.” Gef barked a bit at the two technicians as they scrambled to get the equipment out from the back of the truck.

 “I don’t understand why we’re getting into a panic over this..” Ling protested as Ruis decided to finally act like a grown fae and have that very important talk with the young prince.

“Look, Ling, there was something we’ve been holding back on telling you and even your ancestors when we first arrived. If a Queen is put in a bad situation like this one, a normally trained one should be perfectly alright to perform magic without worry. However, an untrained Queen who is just tapping into their powers for the first time is…unpredictable. We could get a mild non threatening hiccup or the worst case scenario, the Queen inadvertently obliterates an entire area with raw magic, reducing mortals into grease stains within a blink of a second.” Ruis explained as the growing horror on Ling’s face grew upon being given that explanation along with the fact he himself is very much a mortal child facing possible obliteration.

 “...okay fire up that equipment at once…I like being alive and not being a shadow on pavement.” Ling conceded to letting the cave weirdos immediately locate this Gort so there won’t be a horrifying crater in the earth itself.

 “Good choice there Ling, good choice.” Ruis patted Ling on the back before sneaking him a treat she stole from the station.

 “Okay we have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Ngetal began as they looked over to Gef and Muin.

 “I want to hear the good news first, the last thing I think I could handle is the bad one first.” Gef said, having a gut feeling that this isn’t going to be ending well.

“Well, good news is that Gort is most certainly here in the area, there is trace residue of her magic here from usage.” Victoria began as she looked over to the group.

 “And for the bad one?” Cuilleann finally spoke after being allowed time to chill the fuck out from the road trip from hell.

“The residue is all over the area, we won’t be able to locate Gort right away because of how heavy the traces are.” Ngetal broke the bad news right away to lessen the blow of just how hard it’ll be to locate Gort with the tech alone.

 “Please tell me I won’t get ill from being exposed to this for too long..” Ling said, still not thrilled with how this little adventure has been turning out so far.

“Oh no, you should be alright for the most part. It just causes mortals to have abnormally longer lifespans and longer fertility timespans.” Victoria reassured Ling as to keep him calm with a possible raw magic explosion in the making.

 “...Okay I am definitely liking the longer lifespan side effect.” Ling somewhat perked up at being given a longer lifespan from being exposed to trace amounts of raw magic.

 “Okay, you know what, let’s focus the equipment on where the strongest concentration of the trace magic is. That should resolve our little situation and be able to fetch Gort at once.” Cuilleann finally got her head back into the game as she figured that should resolve the issue.

 “Okay Cuilleann, we can try and recalibrate the equipment to do just that, however, I will warn that this is going to take a bit.” Victoria explained as Ngetal went to business on recalibrating the machine to focus on where its the strongest at.

 The machine whirled and chittered as it worked its technological wonders in figuring out where the trace magic was strongest in this particular area, ignoring the onlookers at this weird spectacle. Ling felt like he should’ve distanced himself from his weird formerly cave dwelling entourage at that very moment as a rather ‘interesting’ hearse pulled into the gas station. Muin could only huff a bit as the stranger came out of the beach party hearse with his round sunglasses shining in the sun, smiling away to show off his shark looking teeth. In short, to the cave dwelling weirdos, the weird shark tooth man was a rather fascinating specimen of humanity they hadn’t encountered before. The man in the sunglasses could only whistle appreciatively at Muin who only hissed in response and was ready to knife a human that annoyed her at that moment. This only prompted the man to be even more curious since that was the first time someone actually hissed at him; specifically one that wasn’t a certain little shapeshifting gremlin in his life. Surely the world had gone mad since Central was basically the epicenter of a horrific and epic battle unfolding.

 “So, you’re on vacation with your circus troupe?” The man asked as he waited for his turn to fuel up.

 “What exactly is this ‘circus’ you speak of?” Muin hiss only deepened a bit as the machine continued to make its ‘thinking’ sounds in the background.

 “Okay…guess where you’re from doesn’t have a circus…my bad. I’m Greed by the way.” Greed decided to introduce himself to the hissing, angry Swan maiden who wasn’t too thrilled with this thing called ‘social interaction’. 

 “Ling, we could’ve given you that name if we knew that was an option.” Ruis interrupted as Ling stared out at the possibility of being given the worst name imaginable.

 “Well Greed, I’m annoyed. Please stop speaking to me at once.” Muin decided to shut down the interaction at once with full hostility in a very swan-like fashion.

 “Well it was very nice to meet you Annoyed. Also hell yeah kid, Greed is the best name out there!” Greed snarkily responded to Muin whose feathers were ruffled big time at this.

 “Ruis, I beg yah, don’t rename me as Greed..Please..” Ling pleaded as he certainly wasn’t a fan of that name.

 “Fine, you get to be Greedling!” Ruis grinned a shit eating smile upon such a ‘clever’ compromise.

 “I should’ve seen this one coming…” Ling looked defeated as Greed laughed a bit at the interaction.

 “Oh my god, you guys are a riot and a half! I haven’t had a good laugh like this in a while.” Greed finally caught his breath after getting a good laugh in.

 “Now this is what I’m talking about! I’m the funny one in the group.” Ruis looked pretty thrilled that her comedy act was well received by Greed. 

“It’s nice to have someone not hiss at me for a change, I take it you’re the nice one in this group as well?” Greed asked as the skyline behind him flashed a bright bluish white light.

[the-firebird69]

The Headless Horseman finds his head | Sleepy Hollow | CLIP

It says it it's the place of my birth it's the place where he started to fight. I'm proud of what I did. And I got samples and I threw it into a cooler right away. And Arnie and Dee needed to be occupied no they started looking for me.

Hera

She's around before she left and we thought so we didn't know but I heard something and I saw nothing and I know how it is. Now she's not a monster it didn't show up on anything but he was missing a pair and he says he didn't do anything with it and he doesn't know what happened and the water in the basement was not deep enough and you didn't fall over and I didn't take it and people say they know that so they're blaming me. And he says that I was inside when the car dropped and he heard a clink and didn't see anybody he was pretty sharp it was not looking for invisible people. She's talking about the story before and said she walked around in the house it's starting to make sense she's somewhere with children that are huge making all sorts of things and had kids and sent those kids to him to have kids so they would be bigger and we think that we're dealing with one of them and he thinks it's a stone Giant from New Hampshire and it's really starting to suck

Kamala

It's kind of hell this is terrible. And we saw the baby no we were holding it and he says I don't think that's the Stone Giant ding-a-ling and I said which one is that and he said it's probably the most terrible and is passing on her humanity when she was stealing from Lily and that's Lily's beef she says and what you're saying it is a xenomorph and that's terrible and the queen was hers and we need out of this. He asked you what kind of monsters from Worcester that would be carrie. And they don't look like these Giants and they're not built the same and they're laughing no we're not. Does not many signs maybe hair color and style and it's women who say that and her hair was fluffy and curly sometimes long and curly like a maiden. I know it Worcester is famous for and westeros famous for xenomorph. The scenario that's famous for creatures that are underwater and he never would have guessed it he would think that's Melissa but it's only part underwater and she was completely and never talked to anything that's how we know no that's what's out there some sort of waterborne creature and he says I wonder what that is do you think that Melissa would be the kraken but Worcester is from is where McCracken is from and she says you're getting it uh-oh

Trump

I can't stand this they're having kids right in front of us and they're everywhere this is terrible

Dan

Olympus

[lingshanhermit]

Lingshan Hermit: How Evil Comes into Being

Upon careful reflection, all our evil actions stem from "self" protection and our cherishing of the "self." We kill for the "self," lie for the "self," and commit various foolish acts for the "self," ultimately landing ourselves in trouble. All of this originates from our belief in the existence of a "self."

However, from a Buddhist perspective, the "self" that we so cherish has never actually existed. From the perspective of the enlightened, the "self" has never existed. But there is a vast difference between this enlightened understanding and the perception of the general public who lack enlightenment experience. The general public considers their existence undeniable. They find it difficult to understand why they have never existed in the way they believe. Therefore, in the eyes of the general public, they truly exist, and the "self" certainly exists as well. For them, not only does the "self" truly exist, but satisfying the "self" is also perfectly natural. Consequently, the "self" gradually develops an enormous appetite—one that can never be satisfied. Perhaps precisely because the "self" has never existed, it needs more desperately than anything else to be proven, valued, and acknowledged. It needs to feel its existence through various means. We strengthen the sense of self-existence by establishing various dualistic oppositions, through touch, taste, putting vintage stickers on luggage, getting tongue piercings, and through conflicts with others.

For the "self," being ignored is the most unbearable thing. Compared to being ridiculed or attacked, being ignored is a greater humiliation because it makes the "self" feel non-existent. Therefore, the "self" seeks attention through every possible means. To this end, we follow societal views, accept their rules, integrate into their world, and strive for achievements that will draw their attention, thus providing more sense of existence and value for the "self." In this process, you need to compete with many people, splash red paint on others' doors, learn to tell lies convincingly, and some even offer their wives to others—this is how evil arises. You do these things because your daughter needs to attend an international school, your wife wants to go to Nepal to receive empowerment and make offerings to spiritual teachers, you need to buy new cars and Buddhist statues, and you have over 200 employees waiting for their salaries and mortgage payments. You can't let them think you're incompetent, you can't let others think you're incompetent, and more importantly, you can't let yourself feel like you're incompetent—a failure who can't afford his daughter's gym membership. This doesn't align with your self-image.

Global development has made all kinds of goods accessible worldwide, arousing our desires and making them surge unprecedentedly. We buy many things we don't need simply out of greed, showing off, or momentary impulse. For this, we need to work more to earn more money, which is why we become exhausted. To maintain your self-image, you need to steal from the poor, kiss up to certain people, learn various forms of hypocrisy and schemes, cut down vast forests, find ways to marry your children into wealthy Japanese families, and learn how to set traps for others. This is partly because you believe in the existence of the "self," and partly because you believe that satisfying the "self" is the path to happiness. This is the root of all evil. It stems from the illusion of a "self" that has never existed, and the survival needs that this illusion develops.

Written by Lingshan Hermit on December 5, 2024.

Copyright Notice：All copyrights of Ling Shan Hermit's articles in Simplified and Traditional Chinese, English, and other languages belong to the natural person who owns "Ling Shan Hermit". Please respect copyright. Publishers, media, or individuals (including but not limited to internet media, websites, personal spaces, Weibo, WeChat public accounts, print media) must obtain authorization from Ling Shan Hermit before use. No modifications to the articles are allowed (including: author's name, title, main text content, and punctuation marks). We reserve all legal rights.

灵山居士：恶是如何产生的

仔细想想，我们所有的恶都源于“自我”保护，都源于珍爱“自我”。我们会为了“自我”而杀人、会为了“自我”而说谎、会为了“自我”而做出各种蠢事，最后让自己身陷囹圄。而这一切都源于我们相信有一个“自我”的存在。

但是从佛教的角度来说，我们所珍爱的“自我”其实从来没有存在过。从证悟者的角度来看，“自我”从未存在过。但是这种证悟者的认知和缺乏证悟体验的社会大众的认知存在着极大差异。大众认为自己的存在是无可置疑的。他们很难理解为什么自己从未像自己所认为的那样存在过。所以在社会大众看来，自己是真实存在的，“自我”当然也是真实存在的。对他们而言，“自我”不但真实存在，而且满足“自我”也是天经地义的，所以“自我”慢慢就发展出了一个超级大的胃口——一个你永远无法填满的胃口。也许正是因为“自我”从未存在过，所以“自我”比其他东西更加迫切地需要被证明、需要被重视、需要被认可。它需要通过各种方式感觉自己存在，我们会通过建立各种二元对立来加强“自我”的存在感，会通过触摸、品尝、��行李箱上贴复古贴纸、在舌头上镶珠子、以及和他人的互撕来感受自己的存在。对“自我”而言，最不能忍受的就是被无视，相比被嘲讽被攻击，被无视对我们而言是更大的羞辱，因为那会让“自我”感觉自己不存在。所以“自我”会想方设法让自己被重视。为此我们遵循社会大众的看法，接受他们的规则，融入他们的世界，在他们的世界里努力博取能让他们瞩目的成绩，从而为“自我”提供更多的存在感和价值。在这个过程中，你需要去和很多人争夺，要在别人家门上泼红漆、要学习如何把谎言说的很真诚、有的人还会把自己的女人送给别人，恶就是这么产生的。而你之所以会这么做，是因为你女儿要上国际学校、你老婆要去尼泊尔接受灌顶供养上师、还要换新车买佛像，你公司里还有200多个人等着吃饭还房贷。你不能让他们感觉你是个无能的人，你同样不能让别人感觉你是个无能的人，更重要的是，你不能让自己感觉自己是个无能的人，是个无法支付女儿健身房费用的失败者。这和你对自己的人设定位不符。社会的发展让全世界的商品都变得触手可及，这勾起了我们的欲望，让我们的欲望变得空前高涨，我们会买很多根本用不着的东西仅仅是因为贪婪或是炫耀或是一时兴起。为此我们需要去做更多的工作去赚更多的钱，所以我们才会疲惫不堪。为了维持自己对自己的定位，你需要去从穷人手里偷钱，需要去舔某些人的鞋子，需要学习各种虚伪和套路，需要砍掉大片的森林，需要想方设法让自己孩子嫁入日本豪门，还需要去学习如何给别人设置��阱。这一方面因为你相信“自我”存在，另一方面因为你相信满足“自我”即幸福之道。这就是所有的恶的根源。它源于一个从未存在过的“自我”幻觉、以及这个幻觉所发展出的维生需求。

灵山居士写于2024年12月5日。

[sadmanyeyes]

Chapter 103:

Gupta and co. are in Konron, feeling demonic energies all around them. Gupta senses someone coming and orders her men to seal their artifacts off but it's too late...Anubis attacks:

Meanwhile, Yakumo and Pai are heading out but...for fuck's sake, Haan is perched above to interrogate Yakumo on his intentions.

Pai tells him they are searching for the Seima Stone to become human. Haan asks where are they gonna live and Pai says she doesn't know but Gupta and Yakumo will deal with that. Haan decides to join them, saying he's on a trip. Pai leaves to get another lunchbox and when she's gone, Haan accuses Yakumo of trying to steal Pai from him and attacks him.

He says that from now on, everything has to do with him and Yakumo needs to fuck off. Wus aren't required to be triclops' lovers so obviously, Yakumo's love for Pai is one-sided. Finally, Yakumo has enough and grabs Haan's punk-ass by the collar, telling him Pai and him are going to live together and they arranged this four years ago. Before Yakumo could punch his face in, Ling-Ling shows up in a car and announces they have a job from the Hyouma Clan: they found the Seima Stone and they want Yakumo and Pai to come to Egypt get it.

In Cairo, the two (with Steve Long!) have fun taking in the sights of the city with Steve pointing out the Book of the Dead to them. For those who don't know, the Egyptian Book of the Dead is an ancient text that describes the Egyptian mythological underworld. Yakumo thinks that's cool but it doesn't involve him because he's going to be human soon.

Their driver greets them and asks wasn't there supposed to be four people. Yakumo says there was...but Haan got caught up in the airport for some reason?

Dumb bitch tried to bring his drugs over. I hope he's in prison.

The driver confirms that they were called over because the Seima Stone was found. It's currently in Gupta's hands but the recording of them being attacked by Anubis makes Yakumo anxious. That recorder from Konron is all that's left of them and they've been lost since.

The four ride up to the Konron portal where the driver explains that Gupta and her men have been trapped in there for four days straight. Yakumo asks why Konron's in Egypt and Steve equates the eternal life of the Egyptian Underworld with the legends of triclops' granting immortality. Next problem: even if they get into Konron, there's no guarantee that they'll ever get out. Yakumo regrets giving Gupta's the Konron Key since it ended up getting her stranded while Pai just summons a tomb out of nowhere, ending the chapter with inviting Yakumo to go into Konron with her.

[clonerightsagenda]

Ok separate Greed post. To offset the ego boost getting his own post would give him, I think his human name is probably Greg.

Greed is a supersenior (possibly super supersenior) who spent the last 5+ years slacking off. Now his friends have all graduated, he's nowhere near completing any degree program, and he wants to drop out so they can pursue their dream of running a combination bar-cat cafe. (Tbh that would in fact do numbers in a college town.) However, Chancellor Bradley is not going to allow one of his children to drop out of his university. Imagine the headlines. The faculty would laugh at him. But he's also not going to put any effort into parenting, so he outsources it by kicking Greed out of the chancellor's residence and back into student housing.

The RAs (Maria Ross on Ling's floor and Denny Brosh on Ed's floor) are pretty stressed out about what they're supposed to do with the chancellor's kid, a few weeks into the semester no less. But they have a student requesting a transfer because his roommate keeps eating his food and leaving via the window, so they figure they'll stick their problem cases together and they can annoy each other into submission.

This works for about a month. Then they bond over having shitty dads, join forces, and annoy the rest of the residence hall instead.

Greed and Ling can be spotted at any campus event, Ling for the free food and Greed for the free stuff. Given Greed's flexible concept of ownership (he doesn't care where his shit is as long as people acknowledge it is in fact his) their room functions as a de facto student bookstore, and you will frequently see people from their hall walking around with umbrellas or water bottles with his name written on them in sharpie.

He also has a habit of nicking his siblings' stuff to get their attention to annoy them, and Ling has met most of the chancellor's other children via them arriving at his dorm room to reclaim their property. His first encounter with Wrath was him shoving the door open, picking up his car keys off Greed's desk, and leaving with a cheery "I hope i have your vote!" even though Ling is an undergraduate.

When not stealing his sibling's belongings, Greed studies the student handbook trying to find a foolproof way to get expelled that will not also land him in jail. Winry sees him struggling with this at one point and diagnoses him with dyslexia, which his father never noticed because he does not care.

[bluegoblinfox]

My son's motability car was nicked last night. Off the drive. I executive dysfunctioned and left the keys in the front door. I would say like an idiot but it's more like a stressed out autistic ADHD dyslexic person with chronic illnesses. So I won't say like an idiot.

No one's hurt. It's just stuff but I am shaken up as my house keys are also missing and my landlord won't pay for out of hours lock smith to come out in between Christmas and New year.

I've secured the door but I am still sleeping downstairs for my sanity tonight.

I'm not angry at the kids who did it and I'm very sure it is just kids. They do it often around here. Steal a car. Joy ride and abandon it or burn it out.

It just makes me sad. They steal cars to joy ride and don't think about the potential consequences of them hurting themselves or others. It makes me sad because they don't think anything "bad" will happen to them.

If they get caught that's a blight on their record and a step further down a dodgy path. If they don't get caught they will properly ruin their lives and others in an accident. It's awful that they are in that place where stealing cars is acceptable to them.

I can't blame their sense of disillusionment, frustration, anger, envy or greed. When the rich get richer and the poor like them and I, are left to get more and more broke. With fewer and fewer services available to help and support, to guide or mentor.

Young people with hard lives, few opportunities who make dumb choices. I've made dumb choices too. I was entitled, privileged and didn't know it and still made dumb choices as a teen. I drank, stole and broke the law. Consequences were something that was barely even an after thought.

I hope the forensics on the car yield something that helps to catch them. Not because I want justice or revenge but because it is better to catch them and save them from their own stupidity and dumb ass choices than it is for them to end up dead or killing someone in an accident.

It makes me sad the state of things and I know as the gap between the haves and have nots grow that crime to will grow. Feeding the hate and further dividing us. Which in turn serves those in power. As when you are busy fighting each other, you become blind to the fact that we are all on our knees. You become blind to the fact that those who stoke the fires of division and hate also have their boots on all our necks. You become blind to who the real enemy is.

Like in the hunger games we all need to remember who the real enemy is. It is not the kids joy riding or the immigrants, it isn't the woke or trans folk. Its the 1% with 99% of the resources, hiding in their version of the capitol and pitting us all against each other. They need to remember there are more of us than them. We need to take back the power.

Ty, River, Echo Rose, Ling

[rk-ocs]

Have you ever OC edition

(This is an old one, but nostolgic)

K: Ok now you how many times have your oc(s) been kidnapped?

E: Okay about like half of them have. Charlie gets kidnapped about 4 times, Grace twice and one Bleach oc i had got kidnapped once in all 15 chapters

E: Ok now you how many times have your oc(s) been kidnapped?

K:Well, 2 of the spies have been kidnapped by spy trainers, in the death note world. The unnamed death note OC got kidnapped by L (the story I mentioned to you with the pages Idea), I think Technically Morgan and Paige were kidnapped and conscripted by Gods, Mel had it happen to her once, and I've stopped counting for Red.

Most only have it happen once or twice, but that's a lot more than I originally thought.

I might have a kidnapping OCs problem

E: Ahaha, no problems from oc i see! :D ;D so the bleach oc i meant got kidnapped once in every chapter of the 15 chapter story.

ok which of your oc's have accidently lit something on fire?

K: Paige, when she is still learning control!

Most of My OCs have pretty good fire training, and therefore while they deliberately set pleantly of things on fire, they don't generally tend to do it by accident.

How about yours?

E: Nice Paige! Well obviously Marciela had set fire to the kitchen curtians about ten times in her life , she is no longer allowed in the kitchen when she's about to sneeze. Ivette had countlessly set many things on fire by accident off shooting or by holding in too much anger. Ravi set fire to his living room once. And poor Maria set the oven on fire twice

K:  How many OCs have some form of spy training or another?

E: hm any spy training ?No none that i can think of maybe Ivette and Erik on gathering info, Ravi learned on is own through trial and error and same for the team

And how about yours?

K: Well I mentioned two that were kidnapped into spy training. Mel does not get spy training as decide to run the "information network". Morgan and Paige I wouldn't consider spies, or trained for it, but information is important to them.

Red, does have training, and I think she's the first one I've written trained like that seriously.

E: OKAY which of your oc's had the most development. and i mean like how much they differ now compared to their original self?

fuck now i want a fic with N understanding social cues with Pokemon, like no Black stop that they think that's rude

K: I would say Red. Like she's my current of course, but also the sheer amount of changes she's gone through, between the AUs and spawning an OC male counterpart. Not to mention trying to pin down how to write her cannon. And the traumatizing backstory that crops up. Geeze she needs so much therapy.

Before that I would say Morgan and Devi.

Glad you like the reread! 

I would be curious to see Jasper with a beard. He was a bit young to have much of one in the first one with him I wrote, but now I'm curious.

I would like to see a reversal with N understanding social cues.

N: did you know it's rude to stand in the middle of the road like that?

Black: did you know it's rude to just run into people like that?

N: I've seen you run into people all the time.

Black: your aware I'm rude. Don't go using me as an example of manners.

N: you shouldn't stare like that.

Black: and you shouldn't leave before people can answer your questions or reply to you. (leaves)

E:And for the oc, it's between Ivette and a really old oc name Eclipsia/Ling a old hetalia oc that once a nation now just a human journalist from the Philippines traveling around and have a surprisingly luck with strange people

Ivette had so much revisions,  i originally had her as a oc for the lorax , but her glitch in to being a poor victim in a fucked up modern hostage game, to being  woman traveling across country with her car and picks up Grace during on of her trips to being the witch we hVe now.

K: Do you have any OCs with reservations on stealing?

I am having trouble thinking of any of mine that don't have video game morals regarding that. Except maybe Shiloh Shepherd.

On a sidenote I'm reading the sequal to viral, and in the first book there was a lot of B&E to do or swipe things, and in the first 100 pages of the sequal she has convinced her pack and succescfuly gone through with swiping a pirate treasure map. Anne Bonnys in fact!

E: Ivette has been on a long journey and now has her core story, yeah i liked the lorax so Ivette was still center with family and more level headed with the same maturity she has now. She balanced out Onceler, but again so much revisions and she took her own reigns and pulled me with her. 

Ling did the same and she is one of my precious ocs, maybe she can be reporter on our heros *laughs*

K: I love it when they do that.

Paige was originally supported to take on the Emerlan kids, but went into PJO.

That would be pretty cool to see. Reporters are a superhero classic .

E: Truthfully not many have any problems with it, well cept Erik and Daniel they may be reluctant.  Ivette has no problems with it sometimes if you really needed it, same with Malik, . Ravi has no qualms from stealing from villians,  ditto for Ling for information purposes.

Michelle definitely, but will bite her lip if you have a good reason for it. Charlie steals your food has no shame

Keep talking about Pidge bro. ^^

Definitely,  Ling is always on the scene everytime. She's more serious, however and will be the reporter to turn to for help

K: Weirdly enough that old comercial they put in about not pirating movies,or the music specifically , came into my head.

What is it about protagonists these days, and their stealing? One day I'm going to have to write a character who subverts this.

I like the viral series much better then Maximum ride, Actually. It involves more science, solid dynamic, and well built mystery.

Paige Sprickerhoff, is Morgan's apprentice. She came in when Morgan hit her lowest, and had to figure it out more or less on her own. Morgan was pretty out of it, and was more or less on autopilot. After that one, Morgan comes back a bit and trains her. Brutaly. In like about everything she can think of. She's kind of aware she messed up, and wants to make up for it as much as possible.

Morgan makes it seem easy, but Paige is having a lot of trouble getting the fire to work with her. Morgan is earth , and Paige's fight style Definitely takes on an earth style, such as a combined move where they made lava floor, and built it up.

Where Tortaral is fairly Guardian sparse, the PJO verse has a lot, and a fair bit more focus on cooperation. She needs to learn to work with people, and to ask for help.

She does become friends with Nico, in a misadventure in China. I plan on keeping the original PJO serries and the Kane chronicles intact (more or less), but I think I would like to shake up hero's of Olympus a fair bit.

Paige is Pakistani-Canadian, has a lot of family, and doesn't talk about them a lot because she misses them badly.

E: Oh any of your oc's that has appeared in the media before?

K: Well, Red probably has a thing for Grand theft auto. The media

Paige appeared in the newspaper twice. Once as a child, then as a  missing person. Reds various masks have shown up.

And Mel is in the Bingo book, and mentioned to be banned from Kiri. Oh, and Chase had a moment on Tv with his mom.

E: Ivette has shown up every once in a while in wizard newspapers with a function with the Clearwater*I'm going to give Michelle a better last name*, with the traveling doctor group and of course her getting arrested.  Ravi appears briefly on television about his father's murder, and Marciela in a news paper article for young inspiring ballet dancers. Ivette got arrested a second time then got better on getting away with it more subtlety. 

K: Have you ever used dead family as a backstory builder?

Like ok, Morgan's Dad Lex, loved his wife, she was pretty kickass, and when she is killed, is both out for blood , and struggling to keep his status.

Ax had a dead friend, and a father figure that was killed, that hits the psyche hard.

Red is the dead family member, and Godfather Raye was Jaspers. 

E: Yes i have. Ravi in this instance since his dad is dead, Ling had two of her elder siblings die in a gang related dispute that got swept under the rug became a journalist for truth, and Marciela for her father. 

K: Sometimes Red and MT share a dead twin (either Monique or Theirry) sometimes the twins have Red (Jasper or Carnelian) between them, as a dividing line. Occasionally all three of them exsist in the same space.

Paige does not have a dead family member problem.

Nor Mel, though she has a dead meantor.

Morgan does, given her mom was dead Before the series started

One of the spies sisters got shot in a swimming pool.

K: Ok, oc's that have no problems tag teaming their villains?

K:I can't think of many that would have problems with that, given the option.

Well besides Ax. Ax isn't going to drag the trainee into that sort of shit. And weirdly enough the spies.

Maybe Sara counts as well. Sort of.

Devi and Chase have their teams.

Morgan has friends, prefrably ones that can fight. Sometimes she brings them as back up.

Paige would bring Morgan. She needs to learn to cooperate with other people, other elements.

Mel is used to working with people, and Kohona trains for teamwork. They use the old one two a fair amount (zap them and wack them)

Red is trained to opperate on teams and alone.  She tag teams pretty well , and is getting really good at working with Desmond

Even the FFX oc who's name I forgot works with a team

How about you?

E: Everyone has a team or partner they prefer to work with, if its a really strong villain then everyone is on it. 

Ravi needs to keep an eye on Puma so he stop sleeping on high places

I kinda meant to phrase it as any oc willing to tag team with a villian.

K:Oh ok.

That's more based on morals.

Well Mel was willing to work with Itachi to figure out how to time travel to prevent the zombie apocalypse.

Red and Morgan work with some pretty shady people at times, and how that partnership ends depends on what lines are crossed, and the power balance. The objective also matters.

It could end with no bridges burnt, or it could end in backstabing, it really depends on how it goes down. Genraly they try to keep a reputation of not killing "alies" but they both have their lines in the sand.

Paige , besides being an occasional bank robber, is a lot less willing then morgan then to go there, though she has her less reputable contacts.

The spies, and generally any death note character, yes.

Ax, yes.

Devi and Chase are a strange case. They would tag team with N, king of the villean group, to take on the head villean. N isn't quite a villain though.

Sara, hasn't really had the chance.

I think think most of the rest of my characters wouldn't.

E: True mostly based on their morals.

Ivette, Malik, Ravi and Puma have indeed worked with some of their villains. They still keep their guard up cause it can end very badly if it went the wrong way. They have most pressure on them and they have enough understanding to push past pride to make an ally with someone like that.

Marciela hasn't had the chance to yet.

Maria probably has to with Info-chan in Yandere simulator for help on the murders on school. Info is the person willingly sells you the knife to stab people or kill them.

Ling is incredibly reluctant about it but she has too at some points.

Michelle would only if they shared one common goal, but would immediately cut off after its achieved. She wants peace.

The others are mostly leaning on no for now.

K: What is the strangest colouring you have given a character?

Surprisingly mine is Ax, of golden green eyes, and darker then usual skin.

E: Ohh! I have three actually!  One pale girl, i can't remember her name short black bob hair with bright orange eyes and the other a girl named Amourette or something with aquamarine eyes and hair color tan. Ling had darker skin, sunset red eyes and very black hair.

[whattheabcxyz]

2023-02-26

Singapore

District 10 freehold condo offers discounts to offload stock before ABSD deadline

Those with chronic illness can sign up earlier for Healthier SG programme

LTA finally completes street lamp replacement project

Recent long bout of rainy weather sees laundromats get more business - dryers in demand

Prison Service to study effectiveness of imprisonment & community-based corrections

“Home staging” is a thing here now - for property ads

21-year-old man arrested after midnight high-speed car chase from Kranji to CCK

New sports centre, polyclinic, library & town park in Toa Payoh to be ready by 2030

Food

Singapore: Chang Ling peanuts recalled by SFA after cyclamate detected

Science

Despite claims made by this paper, I tried oil pulling, & found it to be complete rubbish... it may even cause lipoid pneumonia if you’re not careful while doing it!!!

Technology

50 startup ideas - the brainfarts of Anand Sanwal, free for you to peruse & steal

Environment

^ Exceptionally low tide leaves Venice canals almost empty - Venice’s mayor blames climate change

Travel

Japanese inn’s onsen water found to contain bacteria 3700 times above legal limit - inn’s owners admitted to changing the water only 2x a year when it should be changed once a week!

[yilingradishfairy]

#implying any of them would be good drivers #IMPLYING THEY KNOW HOW TO DRIVE #i don't trust wwx his license is expired and we Will get caught bcuz he has bad lucj wirh illegal rhings #lwj.... no he would refuse on principle and like hes a spoilt rich kid he has a chauffeur #lxc maybe? he will be very inquisitive about everything though #your getaway driver needs to know to be quiet #nhs pls there's no way he knows how to drive #i dont trust xy he'll steal my stuff and dump my body #lan jingyi AGAIN not quiet #cannot do stealthy activities #jgy fuck why didn't i see that option hed be great #picked jc bcuz no one picks him #lol he seems the type to understand and just go with the flow #AND HE KNOWS HOW TO DRIVE #mingjue would definitely be a choice but he Will yell at you the entire time #so if that's what you Want #jin ling LMAO (tags courtesy of @unfotp)

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#im picking da-ge because 1)i want to spend time with him and 2) i dont trust any of the other #wwx would make it a game lwj would drive estremelly well and that would make ME nervous and any cop suspicious #jiang cheng has wheel rage and huaisang while he can pull it off hell be in hysterics #i do NOT trust jingyi at the wheel and while jgy can pull it off i preffer to spend time with nmj #lxc... i love him but just like everybody else i also dont trust him on this #i also do NOT TRUST XY at the wheel #and jin ling donest have a divers permit and will rage about his uncle breaking his legs if he leanrs about him stealing his car (tags courtesy of @witch-spellbook)

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#Obviously JGY is the best answer #The man has contingency plans for his contingency plans #I'm working on the assumption that this is a planned getaway not a surprise #He doesn't do well with surprises (tags courtesy of @thepurplewombat)

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#interesting. idk about the one I'd want but very sure about the ones i don't want #1. jgy famously was too slow making his escape. a part of my heart wants to give him a second chance but. objectively a poor choice #2. nhs is indeed very good at getting out of trouble and running away from situations. however he may run so fast he leaves you behind #3. wwx. like we'd just die i think #i wanna say jiang cheng. i believe in him (there is about a 30% chance we'd both die) #ones who didn't make the cut: xy and nmj i 100% believe can drive me out of the situation #but they would be so annoying to interact with in a situation where they have a sense of superiority over it. I'd rather get shot #ljy and jl: those are children. i am not letting a child watch me get arrested or shot #and then the lan brothers. idk which one would be more awkward. lwj driving in total silence cause that man just doesn't talk #or lxc driving in total silence because he's mulling over how to tell you that he's not mad just disappointed #but it will be a very awkward time. at least jiang cheng will just bitch at me outright and the car ride will be comedic (tags courtesy of @cakemoney)

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#this poll is missing the best answer! which is Wen Ning #Wen Ning got an unconscious Jiang Cheng out of Lotus Pier even before he had zombie powers #he is constantly showing up out of nowhere and vanishing just as quickly #and he’s so used to third wheeling that you know he’s not gonna ask questions #in the absence of Wen Ning I will say Jingyi #that just sounds like it’d be fun #Huaisang has no right to be doing this well. you KNOW that man can’t drive. (tags courtesy of @poorlittleyaoyao)

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#tumblr user lansplaining completely correct #however i voted lan jingyi anyway bc i am not putting together a successful heist #i am arranging a three stooges slapstick routine #we're both going to jail but by god before that there will be hijinks (tags courtesy of @flopassfratricide)

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#i voted jin guangyao because he knows the map perfectly and has timed the stoplights and has EXTREME opinions on which route is 3 seconds #faster (tags courtesy of @spriteofmushrooms)

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#love that jin ling is sitting at 0% #not even like. 0.01% #0. #that bitch is too baby to have a driver's license and too rich to need one #i voted lxc because the propaganda made a good point but i would like to volunteer wen ning #he would not necessarily be a good getaway driver but i like him :) (tags courtesy of @digitalcactusblog)

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#why would you vote for ANYONE besides lan jingyi #1) incredibly competent at legal and illegal skills #2) can be talked into anything as long as it’s narratively interesting #3) could easily out-debate law enforcement #4) textually down to sacrifice himself if it comes down to that #5) is a guy who’d be fun to be stuck in a car with for long hours (tags courtesy of @nobodytoldthehorse)

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#toss up between nhs and jc but jc is the most reliable #mdzs #wwx should not be winning okay he would crash us trying to look cool okay #i love him but he would be too busy having fun and not you know gettinf away #jc would be angry the whole time but hed still do it and do it real well #my name is not wwx so lwj would probably just hand me over #nhs would have to figure out if it works for me #jgy would use this to get me to do a favor in the future #ayuan is a baby i could never do that to him #i wouldnt trust xy as far as i could throw him #jin ling cant drive #lxc thinks he can drive but cant #i would be too distracted by nmj's arms and probably get caught some how #jingyi would be sooooo excited and ready and be prepared but then hed crash us in 30 seconda (tags courtesy of @gentil-minou)

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#jin guangyao #he has the route and twenty backups planned and an informant on both sides of every interaction (tags courtesy of @mondengel)

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#Nie Huaisang no QUESTION #Number one mf I can trust to lie cops and get away with it #Anyone else would ask far too many questions and we wouldn't get away fast enough (tags courtesy of @bisexualhedgehog)

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#jiang cheng #He will be annoyed but he'll be reliable (tags courtesy of @xleadcrown)

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#dage #because he just feels like safety #big brother protective energy (tags courtesy of @hiddenfiresindeed)

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#Lansplaining of the sterling takes #it was Xichen all along!!! #granted he did get in trouble and need meng yao to pick him up but this only means we simply need both of them #to ensure flawless execution bring xiyao #No execution jokes I swear to g #polls (tags courtesy of @evilhasnever)

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I feel so bad for the people who picked NMJ as their getaway driver considering his canon reaction to 'onoes I have committed a crime' is 'well, hand yourself over for execution then, what are you waiting for?' (comment courtesy of @thepurplewombat)

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 #admittedly xichen's canon getaway drive #ended in getting scraped off the pavement by Some Guy (tm) #worked out for him. but might not for me!! #anyway im not getting within five miles of a car driven by anyone on this list #apart from him & guangyao anyway so. moot point. #but i would like to hire mianmian regardless. (tags courtesy of @skalidris)

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#actually no I take it back #yi ziyuan #would leave everyone else in the dust #*sees jc in car* MOVE IM DRIVING #yu ziyuan seizes the wheel #flawless handbrake turn #topples obstacles into the path behind her to hamper pursuers #kicks Wei Wuxian out at the nearest junction as an additional distraction #can absolutely drive one-handed (tags courtesy of @kurgarru)

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 #offended that more people voted for lan wangji than jiang cheng. lan wangji is driving the speed limit #even odds he just drives me to the police station and hands me right over. hall monitor ass narc #jiang cheng on the other hand grew up getting into mischief with the one and only chaos gremlin wei wuxian #he knows how to act in this scenario. this is nothing compared to a friday night back in high school #i just cannot imagine a scenario in which wei wuxian agrees to stay in the car so he is not even a candidate for getaway driver #also why lan xichen? who is voting for lans????? #i think either jiang cheng or jin guangyao could acquit themselves admirably in the role and i would take jin ling if they #were both unavailable. but i would not trust any of these other people for my getaway needs #the untamed (tags courtesy of @howdydowdy)