#daring bank robbery

[townpostin]

ATM Heist in Ramgarh: Thieves Steal Rs 1.31 Lakh from SBI Machine

Gas cutter used to break into ATM; security cameras disabled in daring robbery Unidentified miscreants broke into an SBI ATM in Ramgarh’s Bazar Tand area, stealing Rs 1.31 lakh after disabling security cameras. RANCHI – In a brazen heist, thieves used a gas cutter to break into a State Bank of India ATM in Ramgarh’s Bazar Tand, making off with Rs 1.31 lakh. The crime occurred in a bustling area��

[sanguineterrain]

hey sanne! hope you're having a good day!

love your fics soo much and i always jump up a little when i get a notification for when you post on ao3!

i have a request if it interests you! what if jay and reader get stuck in a hostage situation together? like at a bank or a convenience store or something? just obsessed with the idea of jason being protective and badass in his civilian identity!

thank you for your lovely fics! 💕

thanks for the request!

jason todd x gn!reader. mild violence, robbery, jason being cute and sweet and a little awkward as per, reader is guilty of judging jason by his appearance.

****

The bell above the door chimes as you enter your favorite convenience store. You haven't been in a while, but the older clerk still nods and smiles at you, saying hello in an accent you don't know. You greet him back.

He's a nice man, sometimes sneaking in a free pack of gum into your bag. Proof that capitalism hasn't squashed everyone's spirit yet.

Actually, you used to regularly stop here to get a treat on your walk home. Lately, though, the prices have been too steep for your meager wages.

Three dollars for a bag of chips is actually ridiculous. Are they 24K gold chips? Will they cure fear gas syndrome?

Stupid inflation.

You take a step back, thinking maybe the price will lower if you put some distance between you. Instead, you bump into someone's shoulder. You quickly back away, apologies on your lips.

Whoa.

The shoulder belongs to possibly one of the biggest guys you've ever seen. Even swallowed up in his red hoodie, he looks like he could bench press four of you. He towers over the packaged cookie display, which is what he'd been looking at before your misstep.

He's also wearing long sleeves and jeans in eighty degree weather, which is... a choice. Maybe he has an iron deficiency. You want to tell him but think better of it.

"Sorry," you say at the same time that he says, "Sorry, y'okay?"

His voice is soft and deep. You nod, and he barely glances at you before he tucks in closer to the shelf, as if anticipating for you to pass him.

Instead, you bump into the adjacent shelf and knock a couple Doritos bags to the floor.

"Dammit," you whisper.

Hoodie bends down before you do, startling you with his speed. He puts the chips back. He looks at you, and you look at him.

His face is young, nose crooked like it's been in a lot of fights. He has a scar traveling from his right eye across his face to his lip.

Never judging a book by its cover is great in theory, but this is Gotham. Judgment keeps you safe.

He's cute, though. His lips are pink and full. There's a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose.

But you're not about to interact with anyone more than you need to at a convenience store, so you turn around and hope he doesn't try to approach you.

And it's like Hoodie can hear your thoughts because a moment later, he goes to another aisle, leaving you alone. You relax and peruse the chips in peace.

Cheetos. Are Cheetos worth three dollars and tax, though?

Maybe just a drink.

You go to the fridges and stare, debating between a ginger ale and a Snapple when the bell above the door jingles.

"This is a robbery!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

You turn and see a guy in a ski mask with a gun pointed at the cashier. The old clerk is shaking and has his hands up. Yeah, you're never coming back here again. Overpriced Cheetos aren't worth it.

But then to your right, you see Hoodie, crouched on the ground. He gestures for you to get low. You hesitate.

"Hey," he says, as quietly as he can. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm gonna get us outta here alive, okay? But you gotta trust me a little. C'mere."

Hearing him speak at length, it's clear that Hoodie is Gotham-born and bred. And he's certainly not from the Heights. His drawl is thick and, dare you say, comforting. It's old-school Jersey, like you could walk into a diner and find him chatting with the retirees. The thought startles you.

What was that about books and covers?

You get low like he wants and scurry over to him. He scoots back against the last fridge and gestures for you to do the same.

"This is the blind spot for the cashier," Hoodie whispers. "I don't think he saw us, so you'll be okay here."

You nod. You can't speak. Can't move. Can't breathe.

"Hey." Hoodie tilts his head to find your eyes. His eyes are a brilliant teal. What a pretty color. "Hey, y'alright? Can you make a fist for me?"

You make a loose fist. He nods.

"Good. Now..." He checks around the shelf. It sounds like the clerk is still emptying the register. "Squeeze your fist and inhale. Then release your fist and exhale. Can y'do that?"

You clumsily follow his directions. He makes the fist with you.

"Good, good. Okay. 'S okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to ya, alright?"

You have no idea how he can promise something like that.

"When I push this shelf, run for the other side, okay? And when he's distracted, you'll leave out the front."

Your eyes fly to his in alarm.

"What?" you hiss. "Are you crazy? He'll shoot you!"

"I'm really fast," he says.

Oh, okay. He's insane too. Cool.

"Hurry the fuck up, old man!" the robber shouts. "I will shoot you."

Hoodie glares venomously in his direction. "Can't let 'im get away. Ready?"

No, not ready, definitely not ready!

He pushes a shelf with one leg. It crashes to the floor. Briefly, you wonder if he's ever crushed a watermelon between his thighs. From the size of them, he definitely could crush—

Okay, not the time.

He nudges your arm when you don't move. You book it to the other side of the store like he ordered. The robber clomps across the store, leaving the clerk.

"That was stupid, guy!" the robber shouts. "Really fucking stupid!"

Bang! You yelp and duck.

"What's stupid is your aim," Hoodie growls.

There's a few grunts and a landing punch. By the time you get up, the robber is out cold on the floor. Hoodie is disassembling the gun and unloading the chamber. Then he goes to the clerk.

"Thank you, good boy," the clerk says, still wobbly with fear. "Good Jason. So good."

Jason. A name for your savior.

"It's okay, Mr. Kourakis." Jason keeps talking, but it's not a language you understand. It's... Greek?

Just who is this guy, exactly?

Mr. Kourakis nods, shaky hands grasping Jason's forearms as he steadies himself. Jason comforts him for a moment, then gently extricates himself to retrieve the money from the unconscious robber and return it to the register.

On impulse, you take a Mrs. Fields double chocolate chip cookie from the shelf on your way to the register.

Mr. Kourakis keeps talking, obviously panicked. Jason soothes him in his rumbling voice, picking up the shelf he knocked over with one hand, like he's holding a basketball.

"Sorry, um, did you call the police?" you ask, interrupting their conversation.

Jason glances at you. "No cops. They're messy and inept. I told Mr. Kourakis that I'll take care of this."

Your brows rise. Inept? Looks like your savior has a great vocabulary too.

"And by 'take care of,' you mean...?"

He smiles a little, the scar on his lip stretching white. "Not like that. I meant that, uh, I got a buddy who knows a Bat."

Right, of course. You're four blocks from the Red Hood's territory.

Jason touches Mr. Kourakis' arm and tells him something else in Greek. Mr. Kourakis nods, then wearily flips the OPEN sign to CLOSED. He disappears into the back room after that.

"You can go," Jason says, not unkindly. He types something on his phone. Then he shuts it off and looks at you. "You hurt at all?"

You shake your head. You're still trying to puzzle him out. He's the weirdest Gothamite you've ever met.

"How do you know Greek?" you ask.

You don't know why you're asking questions. You should just take the blessing and leave.

"Study abroad," he says around a smile, like he's telling a joke that you're not privy to.

"...Right. And did you learn how to disarm a robber while you were abroad, too?"

"Nope," he says mildly. "I take jiu-jitsu classes at the Y."

You look at the crumpled robber on the floor. His mask is off and he has a black eye and a drying bloody nose. You doubt they teach that at the Y.

"Thank God for the Y, I guess," you say, turning back to Jason.

He shrugs. "Gotta defend yourself in Gotham."

No arguments there.

"Yeah. And thank you for, um. What you did back there. I got—I've never been held at gunpoint, and I guess I just... I dunno..."

Jason steps forward and makes an aborted gesture, like he was going to touch your arm. He doesn't, though, instead just nodding.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he says tenderly. "'S normal to be scared. You did great."

Jeez, is this guy a counselor? He looks too young to be doing that, though.

"You didn't seem scared," you say.

Jason shrugs, suddenly tense. "Ah, I just hide it well."

"Oh. Well, anyway." You put a few dollars on the counter and hold out the Mrs. Fields cookie. "'Least I can do is buy your cookie."

Jason's eyes widen. "I—y-you don't hafta—"

"It's really no trouble! It's all I can do to thank you. Because you really saved our butts today."

You shake the cookie a little. Jason hesitantly accepts it, then glances at your money on the counter.

"You shouldn't," he says. "This place price-gouges. Chips for three bucks is insane."

You grin. "It really is! But I don't mind. I've kinda lost my appetite, in any case. You deserve a cookie, Jason."

He blinks once-twice-three times at your use of his name. "Oh. It wasn't a big deal."

Is he serious? He can't be. "Of course it was! You risked your life for me. Thank you, seriously."

You start to back up towards the exit. Jason watches you, a mix of bewilderment and bemusement.

"Well, I gotta get home. Feed my cat." You make finger guns. God, you're lame. A good-looking guy saves your life, and you lose all sense. "Thanks again."

"Wait!"

Jason follows you outside, cookie in hand. His mouth is open like he's about to ask a question. You wait expectantly.

"Um." He swallows. "Prince Street."

"What?"

"The bodega on Prince Street. I know the owner. He's got better prices. You can tell him you're my friend. To, y'know, get a discount. Not... not that I think you're—I mean, I don't—"

You smile. Jason cuts himself off, looking a little frustrated.

"You're really sweet," you say. If you were crazier, you might kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the tip. And thanks for today. Take care, Jason."

"Yeah," he says as you walk down the block. "Yeah, you too."

[im-ovulating]

Can I request some FILTHY biker!Alec x brat!biker!reader please? All creative freedom goes to you because I have no scenario in my head rn (surprising ik)

Thank you!!! Luv you!!🫶🫶🫶🫶

(A/n: Kinktober Day 11/15! Luv you tooooo!!! It's not as filthy as I wanted it to be, but I dont have time to rewrite lmao)

Word Count: 1,242

Summary- Last night drive turns into something more...

Warnings: Treating Alec's Motorcycle Like a Grinder, Praise, No PIV, Slut is Used Twice

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Alec Volturi x Fem! Reader: Revved

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

The cool air kissing your skin finally comes to a slow as Alec pulls his bike into the small clearing that overlooks the city.

He had offered to take you out for a ride when you discovered he had a motorcycle. You've been riding around for nearly an hour, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the night life in Volterra and, apparently, he's decided to end your makeshift date with a view of the city from above.

"Thank you for showing me this." You thank him as he switches positions with you so that you're in front and can lean back into him, which you do. "This is a gorgeous view..."

The lookout is beautiful; low enough to enjoy the twinkling lights of the town while still being high enough that the light pollution doesn't obscure all of the stars. The moon isn't out tonight, but you're sure it would only make the view even more breathtaking.

Alec wraps his arms around you, nuzzling lightly into you. "Gorgeous sight for my gorgeous girl."

You smile, turning your head to kiss him and reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair. The kiss starts slow and languid as you savor the taste of each other, but it steadily grows more heated.

Alec's hand comes up to grip your jaw, tilting your head back further as his tongue slips out to trace the seam of your lips. As soon as you part your lips, he's invading your mouth, devouring you like you're his first meal in days. It's overwhelming and all you can do it hold on for the ride.

When the kiss breaks, you're practically gasping for breath. Your face stays titled towards the stars as if begging the heavens for reprieve. His thumb traces the contour of your cheek before sliding down to your neck and lightly squeezing before letting go, dropping his grip to your waist instead.

Alec ducks his head, pressing a trail of cool kisses along the column of your throat and barely grazing his teeth along your pulse point. He lingers, basking in the steady *thump* *thump* *thump* of your heartbeat against his lips and in the scalding heat of your skin against his own natural chill.

His chest is solid against your back as he slips his arm around you, tugging you closer. "I could kiss you forever, Amore mio..." He mumbles against your neck.

A small chuckle leaves you as you tilt your head back further, resting it on his shoulder. "If you would get around to finally changing me, you quite literally could," you tease.

He meets your quip with a small nip to your earlobe, careful not to break skin. "Hush, love, you know the date is set; be patient."

"There's no guarantee that I even make it to the date," you push, rolling your head on his shoulder so you can look at him with a grin - well, at his jawline, "I mean, anything could happen; I could be stabbed in a mugging, I could be shot in a bank robbery-" You're cut off by a low growl.

"Nobody is going to even *think* about touching you while I'm here. You're mine..." His snarl goes straight to your core.

Based on the slow smirk you feel form as he presses his face onto your shoulder, he can smell the arousal starting to dampen your panties. "Oh, you liked that, huh?" His voice calms down to an amused chuckle. He presses butterfly kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. "You like when I get all protective?" He kisses the underside of your jaw. "Dare I say... possessive?" He whispers before claiming your lips once more.

His arm tightens around you as his free hand moves to turn his bike on.

"What? Why?" You ask, breaking the kiss in confusion. "Why are we going?"

Alec presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. "We're not." He adjusts his hold on you so he can manhandle your hips back a bit and gently push you between the shoulder, so you lean forward.

Before you can respond, he's gathering your skirt up and pushing your hips down and forward so your clit rubs against the textured leather of the seat. "O-oh..." you gasp out, feeling the growling of the engine vibrate through you. "Oh, that's why..." you breath as he forces you to grind against the bike again and again.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you moan out into the night air. The trees surrounding the small lookout bounce your cries of pleasure around, making them sound even more lewd.

As you start to move on your own, Alec lets up. "I knew you'd like this," he murmurs, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he can look down at you riding his motorcycle. "You dirty girl, getting off by humping my bike like a slut." He reaches around you to grab the handles and give the bike a good long rev that makes your back arch as it rumbles against your soaked cunt. Your underwear is already drenched, an unfortunate victim in this game of vulgarity. "You're my slut... aren't you?" He asks, revving the bike again.

All you can do is nod. The feeling is like nothing you've ever felt before; the deep, bone vibrating rumbles put your vibrators to shame.

"Harder," Alec commands, pushing down on your hips once more, showing you what he expects. "Thatta girl. Just like that. I want to see you soak the seat." He rasps, never taking his eye off of where you're rubbing against the bike.

The new pressure has you seeing stars. You can feel your head swimming as you hit your clit on the seat with each roll of your hips. Your mouth hangs open in a permanent moan as you get closer and closer.

"You know, it'd probably feel so much better if we got these out of the way..." You can hear the grin in his voice seconds before the sound of ripping cloth fills the air. As he tears the fabric off of you and your clit gets its first taste of the leather against it, your hips stutter. "Fuck, please, Alec- I'm so close- I need it; I need to cum, please!"

As soon as he hears your plea, he's revving the engine again and you're crying out as you cum. Your hips stutter and buck even harder as you continue to roll your hips down, smearing your juices into the leather.

"That's it, pretty girl..." Alec turns your face towards him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his other hand keeps your hips moving in a steady rock. "There we go, let me see how good it feels..."

When he finally has mercy on you and stops grinding you into the seat, you slump forward, resting your forearms on the gas tank as you try to steady your racing heart.

Alec presses forward as well, plastering his chest to your back so he can nose against your neck. "You did so good for me, love." He murmurs. "Do you want to go home and see just how good you can get?" You can feel his hardness through his jeans, pressing snugly against your ass.

You can't help the small giggle that leaves you as you grind back against him. "With how hard you are, we might just have to handle that here."

[chaifootsteps]

I'm late to it, but I watched mastermind and um...I'm confused.

Stolas said he was the mastermind...but of what exactly?

Blitz was being blamed for stealing his book and taking advantage of stolas. They were going to kill him cuz he stole goetia magic to try and move up in the world and also for daring to hurt someone so high above him in rank. Killing blitz was supposed to be a warning to other imps to stay in their place.

How does stolas suddenly showing up and saying he's responsible make any sense? How is he a mastermind? A mastermind of what? What is he claiming his plan even was?

The only way stolas could be some mastermind is if his plan was to help liberate imps or something, but he never claims that. He just sings about how he's behind whatever blitz was doing, even though it makes no sense because he wasn't getting anything out of it(the sins don't know about the sex deal).

And even if they believe stolas ordered blitz around why wouldn't they just kill him anyway cuz he's stolas's accomplice. I mean Hell is supposed to be even worse then earth with its strict class system, but they let blitz go without any punishment, even though he clearly participated in stolas's plan (his non-existant plan). In the RL American justice system blitz would still end up in prison for years, even if he was ordered around by stolas (Patty Hurst was still charged with bank robbery even though she'd been kidnapped and asulted). But Satan himself just lets him go without even a slap on the wrist?

Like viv says she worked on this for years but idk how it never occurred to her that the entire premis doesn't make any sense. Did she just want this huge sacrificial love scene and didn't care how she got there or if it was coherent?

You answered your own question, Anon. That's exactly what she wants, and all she wants, and no, she doesn't care how she got there or if it was coherent. She knows that if someone says it isn't, all she needs to do is have another meltdown on social media.

[imaginesforeons]

ohhh a crumb of yandere gojo PLEASE 😩

Omg so sorry for disappearing. I suddenly had an onset of health problems that got so bad I even had to go into emergency surgery. I'm better now though! Requests for my page are now CLOSED, though I will be answering all the people who already asked me when they were open. But no guarantees with how fast lmao.

One more thing, what do you guys think about me taking commissions? I feel like I'd be able to, and there's enough stuff on my page for people to know what they'd be getting. Let me know in the comments or DM me.

Yandere!Gojo x Reader with an unknown, powerful jujutsu

~Something snaps inside you, primal and unknown. Unfortunately, you aren't the only one that witnesses this~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Gojo, but he's actually super chill compared to his usual self lmao.

WC: 1149

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

“C’mon, just a little bit. You can trust me, can’t you?”

A muscled arm wrapped around your waist, dragging your stiffening body closer. Blue eyes peered at you from over black sunglasses, shining with mirth.

“I really can’t do it, Gojo, I swear. Please, just let me go.”

You leaned as far away from him as possible, which, from your position on the couch, wasn’t very far at all. The man had you literally and metaphorically cornered, squished into the corner of the sofa with his hand firmly on your hip. You tried to ignore his fingers, idly tapping an unknown rhythm against your skin, but you felt each digit like a brand. Squirming, you tried to edge away, just a few inches so you weren’t pressed flush against his side. Gojo only grinned, flashing impossibly white teeth at you as his hand flexed, pulling you in until you were practically in his lap. You froze.

His smile only grew bigger. “I think we both know that’s a lie. Hell, the missing person case speaks for itself.”

You felt your stomach drop. The missing person case. The missing person case you had caused. Just yesterday, your life had been achingly normal, something you now craved. It was your day off, and you decided to use the time to catch up on errands. When it happened, you were at a bank depositing a check when, out of nowhere, a creature had risen smoothly out of the ground like it was water, not the rock solid masonry that the bank was made of. You had only gaped uselessly, staring at the thing that had too many limbs and eyes that were more human than beast as it loomed over you. No one else seemed to notice, except for a single man. He was nondescript, with dark hair, plain features, and a grey suit that made his complexion more sallow than it really was. You thought he was an employee. Thought.

When he saw you staring, he snarled a short command at the monster, then he and it both dove at you. That was when everything broke out into pandemonium. All at once, an alarm was set off, people started screaming, and the skylight above you and the man shattered, raining stained glass down around you and your attackers. You thought it was a robbery. If only it was that simple.

Screaming, all you could do was throw your arms up and wait for impact, but nothing came. Finally, you dared to lower your arms, only to be met with a man with shockingly white hair. Amongst all the panicking bankers and customers, he was the eye of the storm; calm, still. Then, slowly, he pulled up part of the bandages covering his eyes, revealing one. When you saw it, you gasped. He grinned at your reaction, a boyish type of smile that in any other situation would have made your heart flutter, but the hunger behind it instead made your stomach drop.

Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his arms, their strength like that of a steel trap. The last thing you heard before everything went black was, you would later find out, his voice.

“Well, isn’t this interesting?”

You had woken up in those same arms, and when you realized you started to cry, inconsolable even as your kidnapper gently shushed you.

You whimpered at the memory, at the thought of the man at the bank who, yes, may have tried to attack you, but he was still a person. He was still missing. Missing because of you, if Gojo was to be believed.

“I- I didn’t mean to,” you stuttered. “I had never even met him before then. Why would I want to hurt-”

“Sato Isamo,” Gojo interrupted, waving his hand. “The salaryman turned curse-user after power was promised to him, yada yada. Same old shit. He doesn’t matter, I would’ve offed him if you hadn’t gotten to him first-” you felt your stomach drop at such deadly words said so casually “-what really matters is you.”

Suddenly, his hands were holding your face, so big that they almost wrapped around the entirety of your skull. His eyes bore into yours, and even though every instinct in you screamed to look away, you couldn’t, prey caught in the stare of the predator.

“You did something amazing back there.” Gojo’s eyes were glowing, lit by something deep and primal inside him. “Not even I can disappear a man in the blink of an eye without any effort, but you did. You wiped him off the face of the fuckin’ earth to somewhere even my six eyes can’t see, and I want to see you do it again.”

A thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek. It took all you had not to shiver.

“I never thought I was a patient man until I saw you. We’ll wait as long as it takes, but you’ll never escape me until I get to see your technique again.”

He was insane, you thought. Nothing else could explain the glazed look on his face or the way his body trembled finely against yours. This man was more dangerous to you than that monster at the bank ever was.

“And after that you’ll let me go?” you asked. Begged was more accurate, with the way your voice cracked over the last word.

For just a split second, his eyes changed, shifting from blue summer sky to deep ocean depths. “We’ll see,” was all he said, then his eyes flickered back to their radiant glow. “But until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’ll go to the Asahikawa estate, you’ll love it.”

For a moment, you thought your hearing had failed you. “W-what,” you were barely able to stammer out. “But that’s miles away. I have a job here. A family.”

Gojo only shrugged. “People like them don’t matter. You’re better off sticking with your own kind.” He winked down at you. “Like me, for example.”

You could only stare at him, mouth agape. Gojo only smiled back at you, and it was all you could do not to scream. Instead, you did the next best thing, diving wildly from his grasp. Behind you, you heard a delighted laugh before arms that were already starting to feel familiar wrapped around your waist.

You shrieked, thrashing, but all Gojo did was scoop you up, holding you to his chest like some sort of disobedient pet. Nothing you did broke his hold, so finally, after fighting out all your energy, you could only slump against him in a panting, sweaty mess. The white haired man smiled down at you, and that was when you finally broke, tears leaking from your eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“We’ll figure this out, no matter how long it takes,” he said. “Together.”

[gilbirda]

Personal coach Red Hood

This one goes for @impyssadobsessions, for giving ideas and encouraging me to write this!

Part 1 || Part 2 - Part 4

-----

It was supposed to be your pretty standard run-of-the-mill bank robbery with hostage situation. He had it under control, and told the others that if they dared swing in and “help him out” he would shoot on sight. Given that there were civilians involved, and they weren’t quite sure if he was serious or not — and Oracle confirmed that everything seemed okay via the security cameras — he was left alone tying up the robbers in peace.

That was until a hostage made the stupid mistake to be brave, or a fucking idiot if you ask Jason, and tried to rush one of the guys before Jason had a chance to subdue him.

Who exactly shot first, he couldn’t be sure; but in the following chaos and screams Jason had to prioritize making sure that no one innocent was caught in the crossfire, which gave the perps the chance to escape.

With a sigh, he connected back to comms. “So… “

“They escaped, right?” Barbara’s tone was flat. Which was code that she was laughing at him.

“Yeah…”

“And you want me to alert the others.”

He sighed again, doing a final sweep just in case another hostage got funny ideas. “Yeah…”

Barbara hummed in his ears. It wasn’t a good sign. “Maybe that’s not needed.” And before he could ask what she meant, she added: “Your stalker is already on the move.”

Jason felt cold just before he was flooded with anger. Of all the stupid things! She had put herself in harm's way so many times and now she pulled something like this? Did she have a deathwish?

He rushed outside to prevent a very probable murder to find —

“Hi!” She said again, a giant smile on her face, waving one hand. “I saw them escape so I jumped in, I hope you don’t mind.” She started talking at a high speed. “So I was following you but couldn’t get inside in time and when the lockdown happened I just thought maybe you’d need backup or something? There were some guys on the rooftop but—”

“What the hell were you thinking?” He growled, maybe louder than he intended.

She blinked and got quiet. Finally.

Even the usual crowd of curious civilians watching from a safe distance stopped murmuring.

“Are you that stupid!?”

Jazz blinked again. “What?

He tried to pinch his nose, but forgot he had the helmet on. He chose to rub the helmet instead.

“Do you want to die?” For some reason this amused her, which really didn’t help her case. “Stop following me around and strong-arm yourself in dangerous situations like this!”

She frowned. “But I’m fine? I can take care of myself.”

She lifted her hands to show she was still in one piece, but Jason grabbed her right arm and pulled her towards him. Her hand was bloody and her knuckles were red, probably going to bruise.

“What’s this, then?”

“That’s not even mine,” Jazz rolled her eyes, but tried to pry her hand out from his grasp. Jason didn’t let go and grabbed her left shoulder next, growling when Jazz whimpered. “Okay that was me being distracted.”

He let her go and pushed her away. “If you show your face in my territory again, woman, you’ll pray you left when you had a chance.”

He turned around and walked to the knocked out guys on the ground, not caring if Jazz — if she was still there watching him. It was better for everyone if she abandoned the idea of vigilantism, or training with him or whatever was supposed to make sense in her head.

When the police arrived, she was already gone.

---

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[blue-jisungs]

SO I DANCED

author's note. im sooo proud of this one like?? both the banner and the fic huhuhuhuh idk man

word count. 1597

summary. you and your fiancé have rather... unusual ideas how to sped your dates. and making money during it.

warnings. petnames, cursing, stealing (money and a car), mention of chan carrying a gun and shooting but it’s not mentioned whether he killed someone, general illegal actions lmao, mention of blades but they’re not used!! ++ it seems chaotic but i kinda wanted to reflect the mv ++ black haired mullet chan with a lip piercing (you know EXACTLY which one) bc it deserves a warning itself ^_^ 

if someone asked you what activities you and your fiancé do during dates, your answer would be: “normal, couple stuff”. 

for example going to the movies, cafe hopping, walks in the park, shopping… 

and that wouldn’t be a lie. 

what you do on your nighttime dates, however, you wouldn’t dare describing to a stranger nor even a friend. 

maybe after all you and chan aren’t a normal couple. 

“you ready? because i swear to god if you suddenly remind yourself that you left water running at home… and you actually didn’t… i’ll choke you with my own hands” chan grinned teasingly but you didn't feel threatened at all. 

“it was just a one time thing, dumbass. i’m ready” you nodded and turned your head, resting it against the headrest. “let’s go?”

chan leaned over and pecked your lips, the cold piercing in his bottom lip grazing over yours. 

you two left the car and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance roared, like a hungry predator hiding in the bushes. dark clouds took over the evening sky, a wide palette of greys and navies spreading above your head. cold air is hugging your body while a gentle gust runs through your hair.

“in and out, quickly. i really wanna know how that hospital playlist episode ended” chan murmured and threw you a black mask. you caught it mid-air and hid in your pocket, alongside a switchblade. 

there was no way of putting it softly, only very straightforwardly: you and your financé did robberies. what started as a joke when you were out drinking turned into… well, this.

chan patted his holster and then did a dramatic bow, letting you go first. 

it was a small bank in the suburbs and your fiancé got their blueprints beforehand (he said something soonyoung helped him get them and you decided to trust him), therefore you already knew how to get to the vault. and the plan was quite simple – and usually made up the day before.

for example, today, you’re just going to pretend to be a unsatisfied couple who is going to nag to see if their money is safe. chan had a huge talent to persuade people into doing what he wants… paired with his dangerous aura (mostly thanks to the lip piercing and dark makeup), it could only lead to success. 

walking in, your boyfriend joined your side and intertwined your hands together. giving it a gentle squeeze, he lead you to one of the assistants available. the other three must have been in a break – or so the silver “be right back!” signs in their counters suggested.

“hello there, how can i help you?” the young man behind the glass greeted you in a monotonous voice. the air inside the building was chilly, a pleasant hum of air conditioning (and something that sounded like elevator music) playing in the background. 

“we wanted to see if our deposit is safe. we heard various rumours about this place and we won’t leave until we see our money in a secure place” chan said sternly, causing you to nod. well, straight to the point.

the worker sobered up and looked at you. chan let out a grunt and pulled you closer. 

“let’s just go get the manager right away, sweetie” you cooed at the boy, making your fiancé’s lips turn upwards into a derisory smirk.

“i… uh… okay!” the worker nodded and off he went. chan leaned in to place a soft kiss on your jaw, the cold mental grazing against your skin.

“so far so good” he hummed, his cologne filling your senses. 

the worker arrived and chan didn’t care – he pecked your jaw once again before slowly leaning away. 

“are you the manager?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. the man nodded, looking you in the eye coldly. to be fair, it was late. you’d wanna go home too. 

“let me get this straight… you want to see your money?” the worker asked, letting out a deep sigh. now it was your turn to nod “and may i know your name?”

“we put the deposit on my name. pi cheolin” chan answered unbothered, putting an arm around you. you had to hold your breath in – no matter how many times he’s gonna use the fake name, it’s still going to make you snicker. 

“ah, yes” the man nodded, checking something in his papers. then he glanced at his watch “whatever. how much did you put?”

“twenty million won” chan grinned proudly. the manager checked the time again.

“fine. i can only let one person in, though” he said and looked between you two. chan nodded.

“i’ll go. it won’t take too long, right? go start the engine, sugarbear” he hummed and stood up. you watched him follow the manager and quickly after they disappeared behind a door, you decided to go back to the car. if chan told you to start the car, it could only mean one thing. 

you put on some radio, nervously shifting in the driver’s seat. usually, you were the passenger princess and you’d prefer it stayed that way… but hey, maybe it won’t be that bad? 

suddenly, the bank door burst open and you saw chan running with a black bag. 

let the race begin. 

he yanked the door hantle and almost jumped into the seat, causing you to immediately hit the road. chan let out a yelp of surprise, closing the door. good thing he was fast with it, otherwise you might would have lost a mirror. 

“it’s not our car either way…” he let out a dramatic sigh, wording out lost what you were thinking. he put the bag between his legs and turned around in his seat. you just changed the gear to the next one, ignoring the speed limits “go into the city, we’ll be able to lose them”

“do you think they’ll call backup?” you mumbled, glancing in the mirror. chan scoffed, shaking his head.

“by the time the backup arrives, we’ll be drinking wine on our couch. put the pedal to the metal, sweetcakes” your fiancé sent you a toothy grin. 

you glanced at the gear box, then at the growing red arrow on the speedometer. 

you were on the highway, it was quite empty. deciding to mess with chan, you purposely took your foot off the clutch a bit too fast after putting the highest gear. this caused the car to jerk forward and chan – who was without seatbelts – bonked his forehead against the headrest. he looked through his arm at you.

“yah” he scoffed in amusement and returned to observing your tail. they seemed to not catch up, which was great “the exit is soon, don’t worry”

“it better be because my heart is about to jump out of my body” you gritted your teeth and your knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. 

chan suddenly opened the window and the wolf-alike howl of the wind hit your ears, your hair flowing in every direction. then, he took out his gun and leaned out of the window.

“chan–!” you yelped and were met with a gunshot ripping the air. he quickly leaned back, his back hitting the seat with his chest rising up and down irregularly.

“the exit!” he suddenly grunted and pulled the steering wheel – not enough to take a sharp turn but to lead you towards it. 

“sorry, i was just shocked by my fiancé using A GUN?” you grunted and felt - somehow - relieved finally entering the grounds you know. 

“i aimed for a tire… and it worked, i assume” chan breathed heavily, running his fingers through his black hair “we’re fine, y/n. let’s just go to the docks and leave the car there”

“you’re insane” you murmured and felt his hand on your thigh, caressing it in a reassuring motion. 

the city was soaked in night sky that already turned coal-black. the stars shone brightly, keeping you a little hopeful. as you passed the high skyscrapers and buildings, their lights blending into palettes of yellows, greens, whites and reds. 

when you arrived at the docks, chan gave you the bag to hold and took care of the car (more like drove it into the water). then, he stood next to you and wrapped an arm around your shaking self. standing in silence, you watched the vehicle disappear underneath the water surface. 

“let’s go home, pretty” chan pecked your temple and grabbed the bag, hanging it over his shoulder. 

once inside, chan placed the bag on the kitchen counter. his eyes scanned your face in worry.

“you’re okay?” he asked, taking off his leather jacket. 

“just… a little shocked, that’s all. how much did you even take…?” you asked. a joyful smile bloomed on his face as he approached you, his calloused hands landing on your waist “channie? how do you feel?” 

he broke down into laughter, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. chan started swaying your bodies, dancing in the kitchen. you soon joined him, giggled erupting from your lips. 

“let’s just say our wedding will be not from this earth” he hummed into your skin, suddenly twirling you around; moonlight shining on your faces, dancing in the middle of your shared kitchen.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Incident Reports from Under the Skin, part 2

Incident Report of Hostage Situation, Negotiation, and Recovery not again with this shit, written by Jiang Feng and edited by Li Han

Incident Information: December 8th, 12:30pm literally during my lunch break, Desire Diamonds Boutique

Responding Officer: god hates me Officer Jiang Feng

Reporting Party: like for real Officer Jiang Feng

Victim/Suspect Information:

Victim: me Officer Shen Yi, off-duty forensic artist and giver of gray hair

Suspect: Wang Yibo wtf, 39, convicted of bank robbery in 2004 how DARE you besmirch the name

Witness Information: A group of teens who claim to not have seen much always on those damn phones

Narrative:

Listen I can explain just LISTEN

Jiang Feng reports that after a morning meeting at the precinct about an ongoing jewelry heist investigation, he and Officer Shen went to a nearby coffee shop to pick up coffee for the precinct NOT Zhang Xie, he knows what he did. As Officer Feng was finally ordering my first coffee of the day, Officer Shen suddenly exclaimed “I’ve got it,” and left quickly just another Tuesday so far.

Officer Feng followed Officer Shen five minutes later like hell I was leaving without a latte and discovered that Officer Shen had somehow ascertained witchcraft idk that the robber fake-ass Wang Yibo would be breaking into the back of the nearest closed jewelry store. Officer Shen made the decision to enter the premises and cause problems on purpose, resulting in a hostage situation. Once Officer Jiang located Officer Shen LOJACK TBD, he was immediately forced to take cover, as Wang began firing a gun at him while using Officer Shen as a human shield spilled my latte in the process, so arguably Shen Yi and I were both in a bad spot.

Officer Jiang called the precinct’s Captain Du Cheng see above about god hating me and reported the situation. Captain Cheng wove a tapestry of obscenities we can hang on the wall by the notice board was understandably upset about the condition of his subordinate interesting pet name and immediately mobilized multiple officers to the scene.

Captain Cheng arrived and took over what had previously been an unsuccessful negotiation shut up, resolving the situation in record time shut UP. Wang Yibo was apprehended and taken to jail you could say he was tamed LOL get it, Officer Shen was escorted to the hospital to receive medical aid for like two bruises meanwhile I have actual coffee burns, and the precinct later reassembled and discussed the event.

Officer Jiang is getting fired probably received notice that Captain Cheng would discuss the issue with him in greater depth tomorrow yeah fired and the meeting broke up soon after, as Captain Cheng left to pick Officer Shen up from the hospital they’re totally going on a sweet and tender date to like an abandoned pier or something and I’m stuck doing paperwork and STILL NO LATTE

Property/Evidence:

Recovered gun and bullet casings

Lost face

Broken door lock

Notes:

Training for negotiation planned for next month

Never getting coffee with Shen Yi again

[j0kers-light]

how would j react if reader was in a coma.... i read "just one check" (i think that was the name of the one about the bank robbery and reader getting shot?)

and i kinda want to see him feel sad and guilty. maybe readers in a coma for a week or two. i feel like j would be upset seeing her laying in a hospital bed with tons of iv's coming out of her. or and im not sure how he'd react to her being weak and confused when she wakes up. and you don’t have to write it if it’s too sad/dark 🫶 i just kinda love hospital soap operas so i thought of this 😂

His Lighthouse: Say Something (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Say Something - Oneshot

Hey hi anon!!! 🖤✨

Phew this was an old request! I'm slowly getting back on schedule! Its never too dark of a request for me to write anon! I looooooooove dark content lol 🤭That being said, let's get into it! You requested sad and guilty Joker visiting bedside, you got it! It’s giving soap ops, like One Life to Live, vibes! I penned this on high off of period hormones and during the Super Bowl so buckle up and grab a tissue box! Joker is gonna be in his feels!! (and so was I)

Love you anon! Also, here’s the song inspo! 🖤✨

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @clemdango04 @l3ejm @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

This was his fault. He deserved to be the one suffering not you.

You did nothing in this life to warrant such a fate. Joker felt sick to his stomach being in your presence but at the same time, staying by your side was his penance.

Even in a coma, Joker could argue that your beauty remained. Your colored skin, normally so rich and smooth, now gave off a mythical aura against the white hospital sheets. Your countenance was like an elfin or fae. All in all, you gave sleeping beauty a run for her title.

Nurses and doctors bustled in one after the other to check your vitals as you slept on. Joker paid no mind. He was far too distracted by the constant beeping in your room. Everything was so loud; it quickly became a sensory overload. He flagged down a terrified nurse and demanded that she turn them off.

"I... I can't sir. Y/n needs them to survive." That's when Joker realized just how grave your injuries were.

She took the time to point out each machine you were hooked up to and its function. Joker lost count after ten.

He felt so small surrounded by all this tech. He knew nothing at all. For once, Joker had to trust someone to help him. He'd do anything to keep you alive and well. He already failed half of that promise, there was no more room for error.

He wanted to grab ahold of your hand, but it looked so fragile lying on the hospital bed. Your nails were still manicured in your f/c and shape however your skin was pulled taunt so that three different IV lines could puncture your arm. The doctors had turned you into a pin cushion and Joker could only hope that you recovered from this.

He had nothing but time to guilt trip himself into a downward spiral. He didn't rescue you fast enough and this was the consequence.

His enemies knew killing you would destroy the Prince of Crime once and for all and they nearly succeeded. Joker almost didn't recognize you when he found you.

Frost and the others assumed the worst, but they miraculously found a pulse and that was their cue to rush you to the nearest hospital. Joker didn't care about the fallout— he walked straight through the front door with you in his arms, clown makeup and all.

His sudden appearance caused panic, and no one dared to help until Dr. Sarai and her personal team arrived and wheeled you into an OR. Joker was then ushered into a safe room. He expected the staff to call Batman or the police, but they never did.

He never understood why.

Sarai broke it down plainly. "We don't judge here. You didn't see the desperation on yo' face when ya brought Y/n in. How could we rip you away when it's obvious ya need to be 'ere with her?"

She guided Joker to a VIP room where he and his goons could visit freely without raising any suspicions. It was then Joker saw you for the first time all patched up. It was a shock to see how badly he failed at keeping you safe. Why did you of all people have to suffer like this?

If he could transfer your pain to him, he'd do it in a heartbeat to rid you of this misery. For now, all he could do was watch over you helplessly.

He grew to appreciate the steady beeps and hisses that filled your room. Each sound reported in real time that you were still alive. You were fighting to stay with him and he hoped you were giving it your all.

Joker was still learning to love. If he lost you then he would never try again, for no one deserved to have his heart after you cherished it so. It belonged to you and you alone. You were the best warden in this prison called love and he never wanted to escape. He was just too addicted.

An unexpected shrill noise brought him out of his thoughts. A crash team rushed through the sliding doors and carefully pushed him back.

He didn't have the time to be offended, "What's going on?!" What were they doing to you?

No one answered him as they talked amongst themselves; he didn't understand a single word of their medical jargon, but he did catch, "Call a code!"

He had seen enough tv dramas to know what that meant. A doctor voiced the trademark "clear!", and everyone threw up their hands as he shocked you with paddles. The obnoxious beeping continued and then it hit Joker.

The most important machine of them all. Your heart monitor. Joker memorized the rhythmic rises and falls as you breathed in your sleep. He could listen to your heart for the rest of his life. You were unable to talk but your heart spoke volumes.

And now it was screaming out for help.

"We're losing her. We gotta get her into an OR."

It all happened so fast. One minute you were comatose in your room, the next they were pushing your bed down the hall into surgery. All that was left was the snake-like cords from the many machines you were previously hooked to. Joker was left in your room at a loss.

It was far too quiet with you and your life's music gone.

Sarai found Joker still sitting in the bedside chair hours later. It didn't appear that he moved an inch. The clown was mute, staring at the mess of cords on the floor. Sarai glanced at them briefly before clearing her throat.

"Her lung collapsed again. We've managed to stabilize her but I gotta stress. It's lookin' like a temporary fix." She flinched at the haunting green eyes staring at her.

"WhaT. Does. That. Mean?"

Great, he was already going through the stages of denial. How could she put this mildly? "It means... Y/n might not survive this."

He flung a rolling cart that was left behind into the wall. Its loud crash made Sarai jump. Somehow she remained composed. Joker wasn't mad at her but at the situation. She had to keep that in mind with what would come next.

He stormed over to her and growled, "Do not ever imply my Light might..." Joker's throat closed up mid-sentence. He refused to say it aloud. "Y/n will be fine. She's stronger than you think." He noted.

"I get that but let's face the facts. They moved her to the ICU so she could be on a ventilator."

"Great another machine." Joker sighed.

"That machine is breathing for her, Joker. If she loses any more oxygen to her brain, she'll be a vegetable. No shocks or surgeries can fix dat." Sarai waited until Joker locked eyes with her to drop the bomb. "She'll be brain dead."

All was quiet as her words sank in. Joker didn't expect forever with you, although he originally hoped for a few years at best. Time was never a given when this relationship first began.

Joker was a wanted criminal and you, a famous citizen. It wasn't destined to work out but the two of you made time. Living in the moment on borrowed time was enough, you were happy with J but now that happiness was being ripped away.

He couldn't think straight. The possibility of you dying hadn't registered before but it became clear now. If only he been with you—kept you safe, then you would have never been abducted.

This was all his fault.

"I wanna see her." He mumbled. Maybe seeing you again would help him make the right choice. At the most it would curb his sense of helplessness. Sitting around was doing nothing for his nerves.

Sarai nodded and handed Joker a nurse uniform. "Y/n is on a different floor. Change into this 'n follow me."

He worn a similar outfit like this long ago so the disguise wasn't an issue. It gave Joker access to walk alongside Dr. Sarai onto the ICU floor. There was a completely different atmosphere coming off the elevators. The dread was palpable and clung to his clothes.

Joker could smell death that lingered in the air. He knew the smell all too well given his profession and it made his heart drop to his stomach, catching a whiff of it when he opened your door.

You were knocking on death's door and the cruel man was inviting you in.

Joker pulled down his hospital mask and slowly crept towards your side. In the few hours he'd seen you last; you took a turn for the worse.

It was going on two weeks that you been in the hospital, all of which you spent in a coma. There were countless surgeries and consultations and yet your health seemed to decline not improve. Maybe Sarai was right. He should probably entertain reality as painful as it will be.

Joker came to a stop near your bedside to stare at your frail form. He knew from just one glance that you couldn't survive for much longer. This wasn't his Bunny anymore. All the light was sucked out of you and made you so small.

"I'll give ya some privacy." Sarai said as she stepped out. She knew Joker needed to be alone with his grief.

There couldn't be any witnesses to what he was about to say.

Pleading for someone to stay alive was such a foreign concept to him. Usually for him, it was the other way around, however Joker always found himself doing the unthinkable whenever it pertained to you.

J cleared his throat before he began his dire plea.

"Hey uh it's meeee, Y/n. I dunno if you can hear me but I uhh.. Geez, I don't know what to do without ya here. What I'd kill to have those pretty eyes of yours lookin' my way. To hear your laugh. T-To feel your warm touch on mine.." Joker exhaled and looked up at the ceiling.

He refused to cry. He did not cry yet a drop or two fell anyhow. If you were awake. the scene unfolding would be jaw dropping.

Joker was a ruthless man with a matching reputation. None of that mattered as he spoke from the heart.

"Uh, if you're tired, t-that's okay, Y/n. Say the word and... d__n it, I'll let ya go, okay?! I'll swallow my pride. I can.. I can say goodbye when its time, but you gotta work with me doll. Give me a sign you're ready and I'll listen. But until then please... Fight. Stay alive.. stay w-with me, Y/n."

Joker choked up and backed away, suddenly unable to breathe.

His hands were shaking and there was a ringing in his ears. J thought he was hearing one of your machines going off but your vitals were the same, sluggish but constant.

It was just a panic attack that had him all discombobulated. You were okay (for now), but he was far from it.

Why did he think you would hear him at his most vulnerable moment?

This was nothing like the numerous tv show dramas where a heartfelt speech would instantly make the sick patient wake up. He was stupid for getting his hopes up and beyond weak for shedding tears for this. He got himself back under control and made himself comfortable on the room's guest bed.

He had to just hope that you would be okay. That's all he could do.

Funny how a week ago he couldn't stand the noise your monitors made. But now? The slow beeps of your heart were his lullaby.

The staccato pitfalls of your imminent demise roused him awake. Another team of personnel burst through the door, each one working on autopilot to get you back stable.

You were crashing again. Another code. A shame that this became your version of normal.

Could it be your lungs failing again or did Joker's nightmare finally come true? Was this the sign he asked for last night? Was this your way of saying you were giving up? He honestly didn't know.

"No pulse! Charging to one hundred sixty joules!"

Joker sat in the corner, resigning himself to this fate. That familiar bitter smell cloaked your room. You weren't coming back after this.

More beeping, more calls for procedures and useless equipment. There was so much commotion, he was forced to drown it all out in order to think straight.

By no means was Joker a religious man yet in that moment, he closed his eyes and prayed to any high power who would listen.

'Please don't take her from me. I thought I could let her go. I can't. I just can’t.'

Their attempts at keeping you alive went on and on for what seemed like forever until someone brave enough walked over to Joker's hunched form to deliver the news.

He appeared to be mumbling to himself, but she couldn't be for certain. It made for a weird sight.

"Um sir? We need your permission to.."

So it was happening whether he was ready or not. So much for prayers. Joker wondered why he even bothered.

He knew what they were asking for, yet he couldn't help being bitter in his reply. "To whaT?" He snapped.

The female nurse jumped at the frosty tone, "T-To pull the... um. We'll give you some time alone."

She nodded at the others and in seconds the room was empty, save for you and Joker.

Joker went to sleep fearing this moment would come. He thought he would have more time to prepare. He wasn't ready to say goodbye, yet Fate was oh so cruel.

The brief time that J spent with you skirted across his memory. He would never forget your eyes the first time he saw you. So bright and expressive. Your bravery and wit blew him away and your deep scars from your past humbled him. Joker had never met someone so resilient. You lived up to your nickname.

You were his Light; always and forever.

He would never forget your voice; how it felt in the hushed early mornings and intimate late nights, or your whimsical mind inspiring him to greatness. You changed him for the better in a fraction of a year.

There were just too many memories to recap as he shuffled over to your body.

Only a few vital machines were keeping you between life and death and they strained to complete their assigned workload. Even to the end, you were stubbornly fighting but it wasn't enough to sustain you.

Joker gently smoothed your hair back from your face. "M'sorry Y/n. I gotta let you go." He rested his forehead against yours.

You managed the unthinkable. You made The Joker cry.

There was no time for theatrics, Joker spoke boldly and true.

"You're the only woman I'll love. I will never choose another, I swear. I am so sorry that I couldn't get to you. Please, Y/n. I'll do anything just please.. don't go."

For so many years Joker refused to be weak— he had a reputation to uphold, a symbol to represent; all of that meant nothing if you were gone. He would be nothing but a broken shell of a man.

Joker cried as if his tears could bring you back.

At first, he almost missed it. Maybe he was hallucinating in his time of grief— but then it happened again.

A slight twitch. Coma patients didn't move unless...

J was pretty insane (he had papers to prove it) so he questioned if this was all a trick of his mind. Before he got his hopes up, he needed to be sure this was actually happening.

And so, you have him a sign.

The back of your eyelids moved. The heart monitor picked up a sudden spike in activity.

He felt your hand jerk. He saw your chest rise and fall. Joker felt as if he could breathe air again. He wasn't crazy! This was actually happening! His life regained its purpose as more and more signs were recorded on your systems.

And finally, the cusp of the performance; An explosion of alerts. Your heart was now beating too fast, the ventilator automatically turning off to let your lung take over.

Joker couldn't scream loud enough. "NURSE!" He mashed the call button as you struggled to wake fully. "C'mon Bunny, that's it! Look. At. Me!"

Two weeks he went without gazing into your gorgeous eyes. He could happily drown in them if only you would grace him with the sight. He didn't have to wait much longer.

Your colored eyes immediately met Joker's expectant gaze. "Welcome back, my Light."

[madhatterbri]

Changed | Hangman A.P.

Summary: A bank robbery in a small town leads to the realization of a familiar face. Wild West AU.

Author's Note: Happy birthday to everyone's favorite cowboy. ❤️

Hangman Masterlist

Taglist: @magicalbuttertarts @theworldofotps @hotgirlgraps @smallestsnarkestgirl

Mentions of: Hangman Adam Page, Don Callis, Bryan Danielson

Pure fiction

In the sleepy town of Independence, life moved at a slow pace. Citizens of the small town were rarely disturbed by any lawless activity. That changed one afternoon when Y/N, the daughter of Independence's wealthiest man, found herself in a situation that would alter her life forever.

Y/N's father, Don Callis, was a rich man. The Callis family was one of the first to settle in Independence. They helped build the town on fraud and corruption. Cheap parlor tricks performed on unsuspecting folks that kept the money coming in for the "family." Y/N aware of her father’s crooked ways often found herself questioning her father’s character.

One afternoon, Y/N walked into the town bank to make a deposit for her father. Out of all his loyal "family and friends," he only trusted her with the money. As she stood in line, her mind wandered to thoughts of escaping Independence and her father’s schemes. Maybe she would even find a nice man to marry. Her daydream was cut short when the bank doors burst open.

A man with a black bandana covering his face entered, with a revolver in his hand. He wore all black down to the boots. The robber took a few steps before stopping. Anger could be seen in his eyes when no one dropped to the floor.

“Everyone on the floor now!” he barked. His voice was rough. The revolver in his hand pointed at those that took a little too long to get down.

Panic erupted as customers and bank clerks alike dropped to the floor. Y/N, paralyzed in fear, noticed the revolver pointed at her. She quickly dropped to the ground. As she lay on the wooden floor, she couldn’t help but feel like she knew the robber. His mannerisms were so familiar.

The robber moved around the bank carefully, grabbing any money he could find and stuffing it in a sack. Y/N silently prayed to her dearly departed mother. She may have wanted to escape Independence, but not like this. Not buried six feet in the ground.

She thought of her father. The only biological family he had left was her. Who would take care of him in his much older years? It wasn't like he was getting younger.

When the robber reached the last drawer, he paused and looked around the room. Much to his delight, the room was still under his control. No one dared to go against him. His angry, light eyes locked on Y/N's, and realization set in for him. He knew her.

Before Y/N could process this, the sound of yelling could be heard outside. The man cursed, yet a thought crossed his mind. He grabbed Y/N by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

“You are coming with me and no funny business,” he growled. “You’re my ticket out of here.”

Y/N had no choice but to comply as he dragged her outside, using her as a human shield. The townsfolk watched in horror from the inside of buildings as the sheriff aimed his gun at the robber and his accomplices, wary of hitting Y/N.

“Stand down!" Her captor shouted. “Or the girl's blood and brains will paint the sand,”

The sheriff, a man by the name of Bryan Danielson, narrowed his eyes but lowered his weapon.

The robber laughed, a harsh sound that unsettled Y/N. “Smart man,"

In the tense standoff, Y/N found herself studying her captor’s face. Something about him that tugged at her memory. Adam Page. The man was Adam Page, son of a former hangman. When his father died, he disappeared.

“Adam,” Y/N whispered, hoping to be released in one piece. “Adam Page. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes flickered to her. "You are my ticket out of here. Now quiet,"

“This isn’t you. You were a good man. Your father wouldn't have wanted this for you,”

Adam’s grip on her arm loosened slightly. Regret washed over his face, yet he quickly recovered. “Times change, Y/N. People change.”

[milessluvr]

—MY LOVEᰔ

—summary , Gwen Stacy and her long crush y/n went to stop a bank robbery when it went into a wonderful night.

—warnings , wlw gunshots robbery but just pure fluff

—note , my friend requested this on discord! if theirs anything wrong please message me I’ll try to fix it first ever short fluff story hope you enjoy!! ^^

you laid in bed, lost in the mellow flowing through your headphones, when suddenly noticed Gwen Stacy gracefully climbing through the window of your room. Dressed in her white Spider suit, she beckoned you with a smile and amused look. She wasn't really feeling like swinging through the city alone, so she immediately thought about you.

"Come on, lazy." whispered Gwen, to not let anyone hear her, except you. "Get out of bed. We're going to kick some criminals' butts."

“whoa whoa wait up!” you said putting on your spider suit.

"Good, you're ready told you a while." replied Gwen. "Now come on, theirs a bank robbery downtown " The two of you snuck out through the window. You headed through the city until you encountered a bank robbery. Gwen quickly started to swing from building to building.

you swings with her whisperering “jeez Gwen you gotten faster?” you said her fixing her mask.

"It's been a while now, since I became Spider-girl." Gwen replied casually. "Of course I got faster. Now follow my lead." With that, Gwen swang into the bank, and you heard panicked screams and gunshots.

You followed Gwen as she kicked the bank robbers butts. Soon enough, all robbers were on the ground, and the situation was under control. The two of you watched a group of police officers approaching you. Gwen looked a little uncomfortable. "The cops..."Gwen whispered.

you grabs Gwen hand and web sling away from the building wrapping a arm around Gwen’s waist “you okay?” you said worried

"I'm fine..." Gwen said. "But that was a close one." She looked into your eyes, and you noticed a nervous look in hers. "Why would you want to hold my hand?" she asked, curious.

you looked anyway quickly before she even blushed “too get anyway of course!”

"Oh..." said Gwen, blushing herself. She took a deep breath. "You look so cute in your suit." she added, looking at you lovingly. She then touched your cheek, smiling. She wanted to tell you something important, but wasn't sure if she should.

you face heated in a blush quickly stuttering a “thank you..”

"Can I tell you something, y/n?" Gwen asked, still touching your cheek. Her breath increased, and you could see that she wanted to tell you something of great important thing.

you sat down close to Gwen saying “yeah go ahead”

“I love you y/n.” Gwen said looking into your eyes.

She leaned closely to your lips, about to kiss you. But she stopped herself, realizing, that it probably wasn't the best moment for it. She blushed and looked away, still breathing fast. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it..." Gwen whispered.

Y/n grabbed her cheeks pulled in and kissed Gwen with full confidence

Gwen was surprised, and she closed her eyes. She kissed you back deeply and then looked at you, still blushing.

"I've loved you for such a long time, y/n," she whispered. "I didn't dare to confess my feelings, because I was afraid that you might not feel the same way."

She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "But I don't care anymore. I want to be with you."

You smiled happily with a huge smile on your face

Gwen still smiled, her cheeks being all red.

"We should hurry, before the police officers start to search for us," Gwen said after a moment.

"You know what? I think it's okay if we stay here for a while."

"I just want to be with you, y/n," Gwen smiled.

"So..." Gwen asked you. "May I kiss you again?"

you smiled more saying “yeah.. go ahead”

Gwen took a step to you and kissed you again, but this time longer, more passionate. You felt her tongue slowly pushing against your lips, and you both kissed each other deeply.

"I love you, y/n," Gwen said smiling. "I always will."

She looked at you lovingly and caressed your cheek. Her eyes glowed in the moonlight.

@buzzinn July 2023 ! please don’t copy or steal , likes nd reblogs r much appreciated ^^

[haztobegood]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

(I think I'm supposed to send this anon but then I might not catch your answers so I didn't lol)

Thank you so much for sending this along! Here are 5 fics +1 drabble that I really love at the moment

✶ We're Getting Better With Time (5k, T, Harry/Louis)

Hello Harry, this may seem out of the blue, and even weirder if you don’t remember me. We hung out for a few weeks back in the summer of 82. A picture of you showed up on my facebook tonight, I think because we have a few mutual friends on here. I know we haven’t spoken in forty years, but I thought I’d just shoot you a message. I hope you’re doing well. L Or, the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

✶ Love and Other Antidotes (16k, E, Harry/Louis)

Arrogant pop star Harry Styles is transformed into a cow by his bandmate Amy Z after a heated argument. Left in the back of a truck, Harry finds himself at a rural farm hours away from his band. Harry has three days to make it back to London and turn back into a human before his next show. His only chance to reclaim his glamorous life rests with a kind farmer named Louis. They must work together to find the antidote before Amy Z finishes him off and takes over the band.

✶ Now All The Clouds Been Lifted (6k, T, Niall/Greg James)

Niall Storm, certified meteorologist by day. Niall Horan, lonely alpha by night. When a new midday news anchor gets hired at the station, Niall finds he can't look away from the beta. If he dares to take a chance, his attraction just might precipitate into a crazy little thing called love.

✶ Close Our Eyes (Pretend We're Miles Away) (5k, E, Girl!Harry/Girl!Louis)

Louis and Harry have been on the run for a day and a half now. It’s a hard situation to be in, and they’ve been trying to cope the best they can since their relaxing girls’ weekend at a rented cabin turned into a living nightmare. Just forty eight hours ago, Harry never would have robbed a bank. Hell, she barely would have touched the gun she’d used in the robbery, let alone wave it around to threaten anyone. Forty eight hours ago, Louis hadn’t used that same gun to shoot a man.

✶ It's All Come and Go (3k, E, Louis/Orville Peck)

“Truck stops are like the original Grindr.” - Orville Peck, Coachella 2022

+ 1 drabble

✶ Chaos (100, E, Louis/Bodyguard)

Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.

[m3r1m4r5u333]

One very queer post to remind my fellow buddie truthers that patience is virtue...

Never forget that the show clearly called us clowns and crows...

And neither of those is an insult.

If you haven't, I recommend you read up on the history of clowns. Do you know where they evolved from?

Fools... What are fools, in story-telling?

They have always been the breakers of taboos, the ones who dare speak up and illuminate the truth.

That's repeatedly been the role of the "fool" in literature and theatre.

And remember the scene with these modern versions of fools, clowns, in 4x06? Bobby tells Eddie and Buck to be professionals!

...Much like when he has to cut off Buck from flirting with the tapework guy... In season one. The tapeworm guy? It's basically a scene of Buck being blatantly bisexual, totally flirting with a man... And Bobby going: Be a professional Buck, finish this conversation later!

And then that clown scene later on... There's a clown trapped under some (obviously quite phallic) helium tanks, and Bobby yelling about needing to "release the pressure"?

It's a parallel. Go rewatch Eddie's and Buck's first emergency together. They need to release the pressure to save that patient.

And the name of that first episode Eddie appears in? Under pressure. That's also in the season 2 promo, the first season with Eddie. And the songs in those promos... Under pressure by the Queen and David Bowie. And a version of Nowhere to run by Martha Reeves and The Vandellas. It's a love song, about a persistent, devastating love. Fitting for a slow-burn.

Also...

Eddie: "You're a badass under pressure, brother.

Buck: Me?

Eddie: Hell yeah. You can have my back any day.

Buck: "Yeah. Or you know... You could... You could have mine.

....

Then that emergency with the grenade when they first meet...

Everyone originally assumes it's not live. Oh but turns out, it very much is a live grenade, isn't it? We see it exploding. What's a grenade, going off?

Well, it's basically deathly amounts of pressure. Grenades injure and kill from a distance, the blast, the pressure is so powerful.

So the clowns watch that scene, watch Bobby urging Buck and Eddie to release the pressure... They look at Buck and Eddie working together...

And the clowns make their opinion known.

A clown starts choking, and coughs up rainbow colored string. That's the unsaid truth which this fool says out loud to the audience.

"This story is queer. I'm telling you, there are rainbows. I'm choking on them here!"

The combination of clowns, pressure, grenades... Again... Makes me think of the Batman movie Dark Knight, especially the clever bank robbery heist which

Joker - A famous fool type character, also related to fools and clowns... plans.

Btw, some of you may have noticed that I keep rambling about the Joker, and Dark Knight. Why? Because THAT MOVIE IS A CAPRICORN OF QUEERNESS!!!

And there's that clown theme which obviously comes up in 9-1-1, too. The clowns are the queer audience, it's quite clear. That clown scene was written as commentary, to us, freaking out about the queerness of buddie.

In The Dark Knight... Remember that whole conflict of the two freaks, a Batman and a Joker?

It's a battle against conformity. Diverting from the norm. Joker spends the entire movie trying to make Batman see and own his freakiness.

Honestly I think that we queers should worship that movie, it's a tale of us, the outcasts, the freaks, us against the world.

Because we are the clowns, the fools, the freaks that people fear. Who are always told to shut up, and hide. The ones who have always been the outlaws running from the police, still are. Who nobody believes, when we see our kind.

That bank heist in that movie, which the ultimate clown, fool, Joker, organizes?

They enter the bank dressed up as clowns. The Joker is among them, a twofold fool, a jester wearing a clown mask, his true identity unknown to the other clowns.

The bank robbery heist btw includes lots of stuff which make me go "is this intertextuality?, was 9-1-1 inspired by this?", because they remind me of memorable buddie scenes. A failed phone-call ("I couldn't even call you to bail me out of jail!"),

the bank vault with electricity ("What more proof do you need, Eddie! We are trapped in a death box, thousands of volts of electricity...")

the clowns, the queers, hiding from detection, from the gunfire,

then clowns, destroying each other, one by one.

A clown getting hurt because he's an idiot who cannot really count (Buck, Eddie, the embarrassing struggle to get to "bi"?),

This one clown who thinks it's his time to spring out of the box and stop waiting. This shotgun has no ammo...

and the Joker nods, which convinces the dumb math challenged clown that the bank manager's shotgun has no more bullets...

Here's another deathly nod from our favorite fool...

This backfires quickly, the math challenged clown who thinks the gun wasn't "live"... Dies.

A fool just fooled a fool. A third fool cries out in dismay.

In the end... it's the patient fool here who ends up outsmarting the manager, and winning the battle.

Clowns are clever. We see under the surface, we voice the truth, but also, sometimes we lie to save ourself. That's what being an outlaw, an outcast is.

The Joker bides his time, is smart about it, and when the right moment arrives... he does not hesitate. He robs that bank, proves himself to be the smart one. The ultimate fool. The cleverest clown.

So remember the history of us clowns. We are silly, scary, strange, queer, the annoying ones who won't shut up.

And we are the fools. And fools are the truth seers. Tellers. We aren't dumb, we are clever.

That's how the story goes. Ultimately the fools always realise and tell the truth. We clowns, like the Joker... We saw the potential for "aggressive expansion" in buddie. We were there from the start, we looked at that lurking grenade, and thought... I'm seeing something here. And they will keep laughing at us clowns... But they'll learn when it goes off. I do think it's a live one, darlings.

So, how does the heist and the movie end?

Joker survives the danger, ducks the gunfire... And leaves the manager alive.

He also leaves an impression that will forever change that survivor. The Joker sticks a grenade in his mouth. It doesn't kill him, but that grenade is live, it releases a strange, queer gas.

The Joker gently tells the manager that whatever doesn't kill you... Makes you stranger.

Then... The way the Joker spends the entire movie urging Batman to hit him, to kill him... He challenges Batman to make him realise that they are really the same. That they are both freaks, outsiders... Birds of a feather. Batman needs to stop pretending that he isn't a freak.

It's like Buck and Eddie. Take a swing at me.

Wanna go for the title?

And in the end, they both survive this (really quite queer-coded) stand-off. They prove each other wrong.

Joker finds that he's wrong, that Batman cannot bear to kill him. And Batman admits defeat.

He becomes an outlaw, too. He takes the blame for the chaos, falls out of favor. The bat signal is smashed. Batman knows he'll be hunted... but he can take it.

"...Because sometimes... the truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded..."

And that's why Buck and Eddie, "Buddie" has really never been a tale of two buddies.

The "truth" is a lie. The fools have always seen it.

And so the Joker, the fool, the clown, actually... wins this battle. He is captured but creates another freak by turning Harvey Dent into the Two-Face.

He makes Batman realise who he really is, an outcast. Batman goes into hiding. But Batman creates another freak, Robin.

It's a lesson. Some of us freaks argue for chaos, some will argue for order. But to others we are still the strange ones. Outsiders, outlaws. Queers. Listen to the fool and realize it, own it. See that we are the same.

And they will hunt us, but the circus grows stronger. Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stranger.

Oh, and the crows I mentioned in the beginning? Well, they called the crows buddies, and told the audience that the crows always remember their tormentors, didn't they.

Do you think they're waiting for these boys to come out, the show asks?

Of course we were, are. And we've got one now. Waiting for another.

After all, sometimes the fool needs to wait and have patience to see the vision materialize. Doesn't mean the fool was wrong. In the end, the crows will feast.

Crows are smart. And the clowns see the hidden truth.

[theflyindutchwoman]

You were on the run from the cops -- a bank robbery gone wrong. You ended up in my building -- frantic, looking for a place to hide, and [breathes deeply] -- and I opened the door for you. I lied to the cops for you. And -- Ooh. And it got me so hot that we hooked up while they were still searching the building. Okay. That -- That -- That's pretty good, actually.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 4.22 - Day In The Hole

I could talk about this moment for hours… This scene is so rich, with many incredible moments, all different from the other… with Tim and Lucy running the gamut of emotions… This is such a game changer, a pivotal point that left them reeling and completely shifted their relationship.

Right from the start, there's this feeling of coziness and intimacy that is emanating from Lucy's apartment… All the dim lights and candles around them help create this warm atmosphere. Now, to be fair, this isn't the first time her home is lit this way : her living room was illuminated in a similar fashion when Nyla and Angela were at her place. Only here, with Tim, it's even more striking. And it definitely sets the mood… Maybe not for work, but then again, they didn't really need to create a back story for Dim and Juicy either : they simply could have asked the real Sava and Jake how they met to make sure their story would fit… They both went all-in for this op, using every opportunity to get closer...

The way they have to immediately bicker… They're just getting started and Tim is already complaining, offended that Lucy dares mocking his little meet-cute idea, and challenging her to do better. Which she does, turning the tables on him - and honestly, how did he not see that coming?! She thrives when under pressure and he knows that better than anyone. His facial expressions during that whole segment are absolutely amazing : he goes from annoyed to skeptical… from intrigued to completely gobsmacked, his jaw on the floor… And you will never convince me that he wasn't picturing her little scenario in that moment. As for Lucy… She looks so smug for breaking him! What makes this part even better is that, his suggestion to practice physical intimacy was something he was already contemplating - he didn't just suddenly thought about that… So it's no wonder his brain short-circuited after Lucy came up with this back story. And listen, if she created that story a little bit too fast, what does it say about Tim that his main concern was practicing displays of affection. I'm pretty sure that when Nyla and John went undercover as a couple, they never even thought about that. Their subconscious was being very loud...

Still, the way Tim is essentially reduced to a blubbering mess, stuttering and beating around the bush, is priceless. I don't think we have ever seen him this flustered before, even when random women were to hit on him while on the job. He's usually more unflappable, but here his discomfort is so evident that Lucy can't help but take advantage of it and play dumb. She is enjoying this way too much, showing him no mercy for a while and to be fair, I can't blame her : seeing him in this state is hilarious. But for all her bravado, once they get to the matter at hand, she is not fairing much better than him. She goes from mischievous to awkward in a beat… Both of them looking everywhere but at each other. Both waiting for a cue from the other… Until Lucy takes charge and put them out of their misery. I love how she clearly is the one who is more confident here - I think it was important : Tim is still technically her superior officer. This is a smart way to have them on more equal grounds, so to speak, while staying in-character. The way he's already puckering his lips before she starts giggling… He just wants to kiss her. And he is so done. Although who is he trying to fool with his 'we're professionals'? I seriously doubt this is part of their job description. Despite her awkwardness, Lucy is being so playful - her little routine to prepare herself is adorkable… and nervous. In light of how crushed she looked when she thought Tim was proposing to Ashley, it's understandable...

And it all leads to their very first kiss… Or first little peck, as the case may be. The contrast in their reaction is positively the best : it's how happy and proud he is for this, with his little head tilt and shrug, as if asking how it was, while Lucy is looking so underwhelmed, clearly having expected something more passionate. He barely has time to get defensive before she shuts him up with a real kiss… before they start making out. All the little details are amazing : the way she just grabs his face and goes for it, how he's caught off-guard and has to stomp on his feet to regain his equilibrium, how he smiles into the kiss trying to deepen it, their hands… THAT SHOT : the circular pan is brilliant. And they were seriously going to deepen that kiss when Tamara interrupted them. Their immediate reaction - jumping apart, going on opposite sides of the couch - is so entertaining… and the opposite of smooth. They really were caught up in the moment and now, they don't know how to behave… Lucy's 'this is work', pointing her finger at Tim, who's stuttering his agreement is not helping their case at all. Neither is the fact that he was going to go grab his stuff before realising he didn't have anything. Way to act not suspicious at ALL. This is peak comedy. Tim pointing his finger as well… they seriously have adopted the same mannerisms unknowingly and unfortunately for them, this isn't helping their case here. Lucy's face when she blurts 'good work tonight'… her wince once she realises what she just said… It can't get more awkward than this. Tamara doesn't even have to ask anything, these two are being unsubtle as hell. Melissa and Eric are killing it with their facial expressions : they deserved all the credit for elevating the script and making this scene so wonderful.

Lucy trying to process what just happened and trying to play it cool under Tamara's gaze… Tim's short-circuited brain trying to process this epiphany as well, with the crickets sound in the background… He spent the whole scene being knocked off his feet by how forward she was, by how she just oozed confidence, by his sudden awareness of his feelings and that moment of realisation is so beautifully portrayed on his face. This kiss changed everything. It completely affected them and as much as they're going to try to downplay it, they know it… They're just not ready to admit it to anyone yet - including themselves.

[sholiofic]

I know some people are sensitive about this subject - but I suddenly thought of how Biggles would react if he saw self-harm marks/bandages around Erich's wrists (or anywhere I suppose) and he'd instantly fly into his little protective lecture!

I love this idea. TW self-harm in the following ficlet!

"It is truly a disappointment to find you here, von Stalhein," Biggles said, as he was strong-armed through a storeroom door by his rigid and unsmiling captor. "This clumsy gang of cack-handed louts can't have been in much of a position - erk! - to accept your advice. If not for you, we should have rounded them up easily, but their plans really haven't a single iota of originality, it's a wonder they managed to pull off a bank robbery at all --"

Still talking, he felt the gun slide away from his spine the instant he was through the doorframe, and twisted round abruptly, because Biggles had given no parole and could see no reason to allow von Stalhein to slam and lock the door, especially as the building might be on fire shortly. Biggles seized the wrist of von Stalhein's gun hand, prepared to twist the gun out of it and throw his captor to the ground.

He was unprepared for the sharp gasp of pain, as well as the stickiness and bulk he felt in his brief grasp. The gun slipped from von Stalhein's fingers; he felt back, staring at Biggles with a briefly stricken look. Then he lunged for the gun, but Biggles did too. Von Stalhein was uncharacteristically clumsy, and Biggles straightened up with the Luger in hand.

"The tables have turned, I see," Biggles said. But there was no sense of triumph, not with von Stalhein looking at him as the stricken look turned dull, his arm lowered at his side, the sleeve spotted with blood, and Biggles's next words came naturally to his lips. "Are you hurt? You seem to be off your game."

Von Stalhein drew away with a sharp intake of breath. "You have me at your mercy, I hardly need to suffer an interrogation as well," he said with what seemed a self-conscious approximation of his usual stiff pride. 

"You are hurt," Biggles said, because von Stalhein was holding his arm awkwardly, almost pressed against his front, and <i>I hurt you.</i> 

Biggles, without really thinking about it, and still keeping the gun trained on him because he was not a fool, took von Stalhein gently by the upper arm and steered him to sit on some burlap sacks in the cell.

As he sat down awkwardly, von Stalhein said to no one in particular, "This is not how this is supposed to go."

"May I see?" 

Von Stalhein's arm lay in his lap. Biggles carefully touched his sleeve. There was no resistance from von Stalhein, but he could feel the bulky bandage beneath it, swathed round and round the arm, with blood seeping through to leave sticky spots on the cuff. The clumsiness of the bandage made it clear that it was self-applied, a right-handed man bandaging himself awkwardly with the left.

There were not very many ways a man could get wounds like that. Defensive knife wounds, or torture, it must be one of the two, and Biggles found his nerves growing taut, wondering who in the sorry gang of reprobates could have laid a blow like that -- who would have dared? 

"Who did this?" he asked, and von Stalhein jerked a little, as if coming back from a dazed state, in a way that Biggles knew all too well from dealing with shell-shocked men in both wars. Torture it was then, and his jaw set and clenched. "Tell me, I'll make sure things don't go well for him. There is no excuse for such matters, especially in peacetime."

Von Stalhein drew his arm back sharply, a galvanized jerk bringing him back from wherever he had gone in his head. "No excuse? I'm sure it's so in your world." He spat the words, his face pale. "It was a mistake, too much liquor, too many -- careless thoughts, but I expect you have no tolerance for that either. The perfect Bigglesworth."

The fingers of his bandaged hand had gone to pluck at the other sleeve, almost automatic, just a slight brush of fingertips.

"I don't understand," Biggles said. 

His anger began to fade, because it had no target -- as it seemed von Stalhein's defensive anger didn't either. Biggles sat down beside von Stalhein on the sacks, laid the gun beside him, and reached out carefully to brush his hand against the opposite sleeve, where von Stalhein's injured hand had been reflexively plucking. Instantly von Stalhein went still. 

"What is this?" 

As if Biggles's touch and soft question was a command, the long, slim hand turned, laying upright in von Stalhein's lap, and Biggles saw the white, healed scars on the underside of his wrist.

"Oh," he said, a soft intake of breath.

Von Stalhein wrenched his hand away. His face was pale and set. When Biggles tried to take his cold fingers, von Stalhein fought him wordlessly, his face white and his eyes bright with tears that would not fall. His chest heaved as if he had been running, or was preparing to run.

Biggles let him go, and without saying anything, wrenched up his own sleeve -- and there were the scars, very old, very pale, from the first war, healed to faint white ribbons now.

Von Stalhein stared, his escape attempt falling apart and his heaving, half-sobbing gasps growing weaker, fading to more normal breathing.

"I know what that is," Biggles said. He kept his voice even. He put his sleeve down, and when he took the cold fingers in his own, the hand stayed put, even curled a little. "I had Algy, then. I -- I think the others are done mopping up the gang upstairs." The faint sound of a crash and a muffled explosion punctuated his words. "If you want to come up, there's tea -- half-cold. There are sandwiches -- if Ginger's left us any." A faint smile that von Stalhein didn't return. "We'll certainly have a few questions about your gang, but you don't need to answer them. You can just have a cup of tea and leave, if you like. It will be a little while before the others are back at the Auster, if you want to ... to just sit somewhere for a while."

He got up and offered a hand. After a long moment, not quite looking at him, von Stalhein clasped it with his left, uninjured one, and got up.

Biggles left the gun on the pile of sacks. Neither of them, he thought, needed it just now.

[thebibliomancer]

11 Days of Comics! 12/11: Image Firsts: Astro City #1 (2022) “In Dreams”

Twelve out of eleven? Did I miscount again?

No. And how dare you doubt me. So rude. Having one more comic than expected is basically a tradition for these X Days of Comics, isn’t it? So I threw this comic on the bottom of the stack.

Let’s end stronger than Ford Fairlane, y’know?

Astro City is a comic I’ve always wanted to get into but trades have a tenuous relationship with being in print. The comic shop where I bought this reprint issue said they’d let me know if they get the omnibuses in stock and I haven’t heard back in months.

Some day, though. I like Kurt Busiek as a writer. 

The issue starts with Samaritan, sort of a Superman type guy, having a glorious dream about flying that gets rudely interrupted by an emergency alarm about a tidal wave threatening Manila.

Weird that a Superman type guy would be so annoyed that a flying dream was interrupted when he can just fly around whenever he wants. Except, the issue takes us through his day and he can’t. Fly around. Whenever he wants.

He goes from one crisis to another and he’s so fast that to Manila and back only got him seventeen seconds of flight time. At the end of the issue he tallies up the total amount of time in the air and thinks that 56 seconds is the best he’s had in months.

Between various crises, he also has to show his face at his civilian job - proofreader for the Astro City Rocket. Where he does his proofreading behind a locked office door because he actually sneaks out to deal with more crises while an alien computer does his job for him AND tells him where all the crises are.

He stops in to meet with the Honor Guard - the Justice League-ish team to his Superman-ish guy - to talk shop and compare notes and go fight a bank robbery. 

He has to attend an awards ceremony with the Firefighter’s Association, to accept an award for being just a great guy. Samaritan would love to skip the award ceremony but snubbing these kinds of events just offended people so he makes the time because it just makes it easier to superhero if people don’t think you think you’re better than them. (And he still sneaks out during the ceremony twice to deal with more crises).

You get the idea. From one thing to another all day. Seconds or fractions of seconds of flight time from place to place.

After everything, he just collapses into bed and instantly passes out. And off into another flying dream he goes.

The comic is a deconstruction and reconstruction of superhero tropes, using expies of popular characters to examine those tropes. This one, obviously, looks at how harried someone with Superman’s abilities and desire to protect as many lives as possible would be.

The Superman comics have played with him try to be this active in saving people but without being able to live his civilian life even a little, I think he burned out pretty quickly.

Anyway, teal deer, this issue of Astro City is good, what I’ve heard about other parts of the series are fascinating, and I’d like to read more.

With that, another X Days of Comics has come to an end. I hope someone enjoyed this all.