#dealers deserve justice

[broken-heart-raven-queen]

I was thinking that the Perfect Court Riko was forming didn't had a dealer.

Andrew: Goalkeeper

Kevin and Riko: Strikers

Jean and Nathaniel: Backliners.

But theeeen I thought about the story in general and the importance it gives to the dealers... and it's very little. For all we know this is something that will continue happening in TSC bcs none of the characters we already know plays as a dealer.

[sidekick-hero]

I can't stop thinking of Eddie as Cyrano de Bergerac.

He's in the drama club, he's known for his way with words, his ability to bring whole worlds to life with them. Few people know that he also writes poetry, poems about love and loss, society and justice, whatever comes to his mind. Many of them are about a mysterious person with gold-flecked eyes and autumn hair, constellations on his skin, and the sun in his heart.

Eddie guards his notebook full of poems like a dragon guards his hoard of gold. And yet.

And yet Susie Bowers finds it where it fell out of his pocket when that asshole Tommy Hagan pushed him against the lockers. She reads it and realizes how devastatingly beautiful Eddie's words are.

It makes her think… think about her crush on Steve Harrington, the fallen king who is still the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. Especially since he refuses to just take girls home to fuck them. No, he wants to date. He wants to fall in love. It's catnip for everyone, but at the same time so frustrating because no girl has managed to catch his eye yet.

Maybe this little notebook is her ticket to a relationship with Steve Harrington.

She approaches Eddie and shows him the notebook, pulling it out of his reach as he attempts to grab it. She offers him a deal: she won't spread copies of all his cute little writings all over the school, exposing his deepest secrets for everyone to see and ridicule. In exchange, Eddie will help her sweet-talk Steve Harrington.

Eddie agrees and writes love letters to the boy he's been in love with ever since he found him drunk and depressed on the side of the road after his girlfriend dumped him. He had taken him home, listened to him ramble on about what he had done wrong, why no one would want to love him, and then put Steve to bed and watched him sleep until morning to make sure he was okay.

He left before Steve woke up, and the next time they saw each other at school, Steve didn't even look at him. It had broken his heart and inspired most of his poems, because nothing inspires like heartbreak.

And now Eddie can tell Steve all the things he thinks and feels about him - just to make it seem like it's written by Susie.

It seems to work, because Steve replies to her letters. His replies are simpler, less lyrical, but just as earnest. His words are sweet, and he's funny and thoughtful.

He's everything Eddie knew he was going to be. And Susie couldn't care less, she just wants to go out with him, have him take her home, have everyone know that she's Steve Harrington's girlfriend.

They go out. After a dozen letters, he gives in and asks her out.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

Someone knocks on his bedroom window. Confused and a bit nervous, because he doesn't have only friends in this town, far from it, he goes to open it.

And finds Steve Harrington standing right outside his window.

"What -"

"Did you mean them?" Steve asks and he can't tell from his tone what he's thinking.

"What?"

"Your letters, did you mean what you wrote or did you just write down what you thought I wanted to hear so I'd go out with Susie?"

His tone doesn't really change, but Eddie can see his eyes shining in the dim light coming from his bedroom. He looks upset, and Eddie wants to fix it, but he doesn't know what answer would do that.

So he chooses the truth. "Yes. I meant every single word I wrote in those letters."

"Then why didn't you send them under your own name?" When did Steve get so close? And why is the window sill digging into his stomach?

At Steve's question, Eddie can't help but laugh bitterly. "Did you look at me, Steve? I'm the town freak! A fuckup. Trailer trash. A small-time drug dealer who failed his senior year. Why would anybody - why would you want to get love letters from me?"

Steve nods, not saying a word as he turns and walks away. And okay, he deserves it, he guesses. Hanging his head in defeat, he shuffles away from the window and face plants on his bed, letting fresh tears fall from his eyes.

Until there's another knock, this time at his front door.

He's out of bed in record time, almost breaking his neck in his haste to get to the door. It can't be - it's impossible that this is -

Steve is standing on his front porch, looking devastatingly handsome in his light-washed Levi's and red sweater. His date outfit.

He walks up to him before Eddie can say anything and cups his cheek.

"I've been looking at you, Eddie. All I've done since the night you brought me home and listened to me and took care of me, I've been looking at you. Looking and waiting. Hoping. Wanting you to give me a sign, any sign, that it wasn't just chivalry that made you do this, but the fact that you cared. About me. But you never did."

"Steve," Eddie whispers, but Steve isn't finished.

"And then I get these letters, and all the words, they sound like you. I couldn't be sure, not until I read the line, 'You deserve someone who wants to love you, all of you, the good and the bad and everything in between. I want to be that person. I want to love you.' You're the only one I've ever said that to. I knew it had to be you."

"But why? Why go out with Susie?"

"Because I had to be absolutely sure that it wasn't Susie. And after ten minutes with her, I was. I drove around until I couldn't… I had to talk to you. To see if you mean it. If you want to love me."

Eddie kisses him.

There's nothing else on his mind but the need to finally kiss the boy he's been in love with for almost a year.

Steve kisses him back, soft, tender, then deeper, dirtier.

When they pull apart, both gasping, Eddie leans in closer because his next words are meant for him and Steve and no one else.

"I want to love you long after my body crumbles to dust and my soul finds yours in the afterlife. I want to love you as the ocean does the moon, forever bound, forever following its call, until the end of time."

[metalotaku-da]

danny phantom x dc prompt ideas: weather wizard addition.

this comes to you thanks to my big story pieces comment section. i think if the phandom knew more of this characters background and i thought it was more commonly known. it would have more of a field day. same with gotham academy >.> but that is for another post.

alright weather wizard, is a flash villain and a member of the rogues.

mark mardon. is a thief and criminal who escapes from prison and fleas to his brothers house. where he believes he found his brother dead and his weather experiments. including the weather wand which he takes and starts his alias crime as weather wizard. it is hinted at in the comics he actually killed his brother and stole his work. it is believed he had a confrontation with his brother over his prison break, the argument and heightened emotions triggered mark's meta gene and he accidently killed his brother when his powers manifested. and he blocked out that memory. and it is also why he can't use his weather powers without the wand. as a mental block. because he does have powers without the wand.

later on he finds out he has a son with a cop he had relations with. it is known josh is his son because he has weather powers. mark in a fit of rage and jealousy over the his son's powers kidnaps him, with plans to DISSECT AND EXPERIMENT ON HIM TO FIND OUT HOW HIS POWERS WORK SO HE CAN GET THEM. he has a break down though over it before he can go through with it. and wishes his son had someone besides him as a father, because he deserves someone better.

other facts of note: josh was thought to be wally's kid till he got his powers. lady cop has batman's taste. her name is julie.

the rogues have strict rules against hurting kids.

weather wizard killed impulse breaking this rule. though he was tricked.

so yes phandom. here are some options i've brain stormed. please add more ideas for others to knaw on.

1: danny has escaped the fentons/and or giw. flees to central city and weather wizard finds this vivisected terrified kid. and man does it hit his guilt and crazy. this could have been his son. he was going to do this to his child. and it's his redemption/penance to protect this child to make up for his sins. could have a mental break and think he actually did this danny and danny is his son josh too. so many ways to go.

2: other rogues find him, after hearing about ww kidnapping his son and think danny is his son who escaped from his injuries and go on revenge spree for this kid in mistaken idenity. which has funny and dark ways it can go.

3: danny meets ww or his son. and hears how ww couldn't go through with it. maybe from young justice. impulse or members of the league, other rogues dealers choice. danny just dieing a little on the inside like, how come your parent could stop himself with love when he never met you, but my parents raised me and still didn't love me enough not to. the angst protentional here is so high.

4: jazz could work at the facility treating mark. her point of view from treating a person who is so much like her parents but who showed their love for their child in the end. when hers couldn't move past their goals and see their child they claimed to love. could add in she's got a de-aged danny/dannies because of it. to see what it could have been if her parents had been better. stronger. she could get feelings. (totally thinking on par with harley/joker kind of but not that dark.) where mark actually like her and cares for her. could be one-sided. and the giw find them mark breaks out cause she and or kids are in danger and saves them.

5:mix and match the above.

please add more

[kaethefangal]

Tim had quit his life as Red Robin. When he was younger he was so proud to be Robin, so happy that he got the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fight by Batman’s side. Everyone thought he was destined to do great things, and honestly so did he. He would’ve never dreamed of leaving Batman’s side. That was until he found out about Jason. 

Finding out that Jason died made him hang up the cape. He couldn’t bear to carry on a mantle that wasn’t his. He knew Dick willingly quit, leaving the Robin position vacant. But Jason hadn’t willingly died, and Tim could never feel comfortable in that suit knowing it belonged to a dead kid. The second robin was great, and Tim could never live up to him, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t deserve to. A few years after he quit being Robin, he resurfaced as Red Robin. Because once you lived life as a bat you could never go back, not really. It was a perpetual struggle of constantly looking over his shoulder, constantly wondering if the woman staring at him was planning something or was just admiring his clothes.

 As of now, Tim acted as an information broker.  He worked with the entire Justice League and all heroes/vigilantes, including Jason. When they’d first met Tim was bleeding out on a rooftop after he’d won a fight as Red Robin but had taken substantial physical damage. He’d been expecting a punch in the face for replacing him or at least some kind of anger or resentment. Tim was surprised when the man’s first words to him were ‘Rough night?’ and even more surprised when Jason patched him up and sent him on his way. He’d only worked with Red Hood three times when he found out the man smoked weed. ‘I thought Red Hood was against drugs?’ Tim had asked him as he watched the man light a blunt. ‘Red Hood is against selling drugs to kids. I look like a kid to you?’ Jason asked with a raised eyebrow. Tim had just shook his head and turned back to the screen that was in front of him.

Tim was focused on his current case, his brows furrowed in concentration as he went over a file that the Titans needed from him when he heard those familiar three knocks at his window. He turned his head to find Jason standing on his balcony, his helmet on. Tim stood up to let him in because at this point they’d worked together enough to be considered friends. It’d started out with only interacting for crucial cases, but they grew on each other. Tim enjoyed Jason’s laid-back but still about-business attitude and in turn, Jason savored Tim’s non-judgemental and sarcastic personality. They complimented each other well, after all, albeit in different senses and categories, they were both emotional and social wrecks. Tim was a social recluse because he didn’t know how to understand complex human emotions and Jason was anti-social because he didn’t care about human emotions.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked as he lifted the window. Jason landed inside silently, which was ironic in comparison to his imposing build.

“Nothing. Just need these scanned,” Jason pulled a case holding 5 vials of green liquid from his jacket.

“Got it. What are they?” Tim asked, taking them from Jason and placing them in the chemistry analyzer that sat at his workstation. He sat in his chair, facing away from the man behind him, which was a huge show of trust in itself.

“No idea. Grabbed ‘em off some dealer I caught on the street today,” Jason replied.

“Is said dealer still with us?” Tim asked curiously. Personally, Tim didn’t kill. He couldn’t handle knowing he’d taken a life. Though he didn’t care much about Jason’s killings it still made him feel better knowing Jason was becoming less violent and more understanding.

“With us meaning..?” Jason asked with a hint of amusement in the robotic edge that his helmet put on his voice.

“In the world of the living,” Tim put out bluntly.

“Yes. In the hospital, but alive,” Jason said, taking off his mask.

“Doesn’t it get hot inside that thing?” Tim asked, turning around to face Jason.

“Better than being dead,” Jason shrugged, taking a seat on Tim’s bed.

“You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?” Tim chuckled.

“Would you?” Jason shot back lightning-quick.

“Fair point,” Tim conceded. The chemical analyzer dinged, catching his attention. “Looks like a drug called Viper,”

“Damnit, I should have killed him,” Jason scoffed.

“Bruce wouldn’t like that,” Tim said for nothing else but a reaction.

“Since when do I care about what Bruce likes?” Jason looked at him incredulously through his domino.

“Fair point, go ahead, kill the man,” Tim waved a hand dismissively towards the window.

“And you wouldn’t have a problem with that?” Jason asked in disbelief.

Tim fixed him with the look he always gave Jason when he asked a dumb question. “Viper is a deadly poison, and he was selling it. I’m not saying he deserves it, but he deserves it,”

“So you’d help me?” Jason asked with a small grin.

“Why would I help you kill a man?” 

“I meant help me find out where he got it from and shut the operation down,”

Tim knew the answer was yes, and had to stop himself from shouting it. He pretended to think about it for a few seconds before shrugging. “Sure, sounds fun,”

Jason’s grin grew and Tim couldn’t help but smile too. 

“I’ll swing by again tomorrow,” Jason said, standing. It was then that Tim noticed Jason piling all his weight onto his right leg.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Tim questioned.

“Nothing. My leg is fine,” Jason replied. He began walking towards the window again but Tim noticed the slight limp he moved with. 

“Okay,” Tim sighed, kicking Jason in his left knee. 

“Fuck!” Jason shouted, falling to the ground.

“Thought there was nothing wrong with your leg?”

“I said my leg, not my knee,”

“Your knee is a part of your leg,” Tim called, making his way to the first aid kit he kept in his bathroom. He inwardly chuckled at how Jason attempted to hide his injury from Tim. 

He bent down, opened his cabinet, and looked for the shiny white box with the red plus sign on it. 

He returned almost as quickly as he left to find Jason lying on his bed.

“Either the pants come off or you roll them up,” Tim said as he sat the first aid kit on his bed and opened it.

“Roll it,”

“I’m not your maid,” Tim scoffed. The smile on his face betrayed how he wanted to sound but he didn’t mind much. “Not my doctor either but here we are,” Jason countered smoothly. Tim always enjoyed his and Jason’s banter, not that he’d ever tell the other man that.

Tim stared at him unimpressed. Jason scoffed and pulled his left pant leg up. Underneath it was a deep gash that was poorly stitched up. Blood leaked out of the stitch and it looked infected, yellow pus seeping out around the edges.

“This is one of the worst stitch jobs I’ve ever seen,” Tim said. He got on his knees and began cleaning the stitch with anti-septic.

“In Roy’s defense, his hand was injured too,”

“You should’ve told someone, this is dangerous,”

Jason huffed out a laugh. “That’s an occupational hazard baby bird,”

“Stop calling me that,”

***

Tim watched Jason jump out of his window, the man leaving with a shout of, “I’ll get you some new sheets!” 

Tim hadn’t noticed the blood-soaked sheets on his bed until after Jason was already gone. Tim could do nothing but sigh and begin getting ready for bed. He walked into his bathroom, taking in his appearance. His eye bags were still dark, and his face was still on the grey edge of pale. His eyes were tired, almost lifeless. He was beginning to see his skin clinging to his bone, a telltale sign that he hadn’t been eating. He sighed and looked away.

He brushed his teeth and washed his face almost robotically, avoiding locking eyes with himself in the mirror at all costs. 

He replaced his sheets and got into bed, letting his mind take the wheel.

Viper.

They were already aware of the effects of the drug, it slowly melted away calcium that the bones needed and left it’s victims with dust in place of bones, killing them slowly and painfully. It allowed for a small period of inhuman strength, which was unbelievably dangerous. Solomon Grundy was a prime example of why people out of their minds should not be given super strength. He only hoped they could shut the operation down before Viper spread too much. 

***

“Plan?” Tim asked warily. Jason had come crashing into his room with a look of pure rage on his face a few moments earlier. He’d explained to Tim that there was a new variant in Viper that allowed the victims to live longer and made them susceptible to suggestion. Tim didn’t like drugs that made people susceptible to suggestion. Jason had his theories on what the drug trafficking rings could use it for, who they could sell it to, and none of them were good. The way Jason paced as he spoke made Tim worry that he’d jump into action without a plan.

“My plan is to track down the piece of shit that started this and paint the wall with his brain,” Jason spat.

“Jay as of now you and I are the only ones on this. If you die who will help the victims?” Tim questioned in an attempt to be the voice of reason. 

Jason stopped pacing to think, at least that’s what Tim assumed, he couldn’t tell much from the helmet.

“Fine. What’s the plan?”

“Where’d you find the dealer last night?” Tim asked, turning to his computer.

“Corner of fifth and Eagleside,”

“There’s a warehouse not too far from there. I say we check it out, and if it’s a hit, follow it,”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then we look somewhere else. The drug hasn’t hit the streets hard yet or else Bruce would know. We need to stop it before its next shipment,”

“Right. I’ll-”

Tim’s police radio went off, and he whipped his head towards the noise on his desk. ‘Hostage situation at Gotham Bank, calling all units,’ 

Tim turned his head back to Jason, who’s figure had just leaped out of his window. Tim could do nothing but sigh and run a hand down his face. He really hoped this wouldn’t get them killed.

[deeviews]

Outer Banks Season 4 – Review / Rant

‘Kill all your darlings’ is a common piece of advice given by writers. The basic premise is that sometimes you have to get rid of a storyline, or character, even if they are much loved, for the sake of your overall story. This phrase came to mind when reading an interview with the show runners of Outer Banks, as they set about justifying their decision to kill JJ. His death, they argued, was a necessary step in propelling the story towards its final conclusion because it raised the stakes for the other characters. And shows kill main characters all the time. Their deaths do power stories in exciting new ways. Except that’s not what happened here. Instead of moving the story forward, it stopped it dead. Because JJ wasn’t an unnecessary character, he was the glue of the group, and integral to the message of the show. That even the most neglected of kids can dream big. That friendships based on trust, loyalty and love can help you face down impossible odds. That there is always laughter to be had in the scariest of moments. And when chance presents itself, always go for the Gold.  Of all the characters, JJ had it the roughest, and he deserved the biggest win. His on screen death was crushing, and with it, so too, ended what we thought we were watching. 

No longer a coming of age tale but a cautionary one. And kids like JJ, well, they don’t get to win. But his death also assures that none of the other kids get to win either. Because, no matter what happens at the end of the show, no matter if they find the crown, bring Groff to justice, go back home, JJ will still be dead. There is no win that can change that outcome, and the legacy of these characters, and the show, will be forever marred by this awful creative decision. They turned what was a fun show into a bitter revenge tale. The innocent kids we first met in season one no longer exist, and there is no way to undo this damage. They didn’t need to see their childhood friend murdered to propel them into adulthood, and the audience, particularly the young audience this show was aimed at, didn’t need to see it in order to follow them there.  

The death of a character, particularly a main character, and one so loved by an audience, must be both earned, and sit within the fabric of the show. JJ’s death was neither. What we saw on screen was not the contract made with the viewer. Sure, death existed within this universe, but that was something that stalked the peripheral characters. This was made clear with the death of the sheriff. This was the expected outcome for Ward and Big John. However, this was never the expected outcome for any of the kids. While the showrunners argued it was no longer credible for them to continue to escape their escapades unscathed, the audience expected different. Because in the world of the show it did make sense. These kids fought actual mercenaries and escaped. Actual murders and escaped. They negotiated with drug dealers. They stole boats. They sailed across seas and a big ass ocean. This was never a world grounded in realism. What it was grounded in was friendship, and the love these characters shared for each other. JJ’s death shocked so much because it killed the fabric of the show.

And it simply wasn’t earned.

Season four was plagued by plot holes, odd character choices, cartoon villains and convoluted stories that offered no resolution. Most of the time the characters did not act like themselves. JJ and Kiara’s romance was a non-presence in the second half. Inexplicable considering what his character was experiencing. But mostly JJ was not himself. It never seemed right that he would blow all this friend’s money on his childhood home, or that he’d bet it all in a race. While his character was always impulsive and reckless it was only ever in relation to himself. He always put his friends first. He would not have spent their money. But I guess, the writers needed a fast route out of the cul-de-sac that they had entered last season, so they set about distorting JJ’s character. They heighted and focused on his worst impulses, and from there, we only ever got fleeting encounters with the real JJ.

However, it was only when they revealed Groff’s ridiculously contrived connection to JJ that I understood the showrunners true intention. And the kid who tied his entire self-worth to his friends was to be completely obliterated in the furtherance of their plot. Even in a story supposedly dedicated to him, this abused, neglected, sweet kid, wasn’t given the focus his character had earned and deserved. A devastating development that robbed his final journey of any meaning. Worse still, the invention of JJ’s biological father and his connection to the Genrettes was included, not to add colour to JJ’s character, but to draw Rafe into the Pogues’ circle. The abused, neglected, sweet kid was to be murdered so that Rafe, an actual murderer, could join the Pogues and earn his redemption. Stomach churning. And a terrible betrayal of the character by the writers.

I think much of the horror experienced in watching JJ’s death unfold was not the story itself, so badly told, but the narrative the writers weaved to justify it. He was a tragic kid, and so he met a tragic end. They envisaged nothing but darkness for him when in fact he inspired so much light. He was a rarity on screen. And he felt so real. The outpouring of grief that has swamped the various platforms since his passing is a testament to his impact as a character. That is an immense achievement for any writer, and credit must be afforded to them, and the actor that embodied him so fully. Watching the writers discard JJ so callously was painful. It felt like a betrayal too, of the show, of the audience, but mostly of JJ, and what he represented. That amongst those that have nothing, some have even less - JJ - but they too, with a little help from their friends, can still have, and are entitled to, a good life. His murder was cruel, and just so upsetting.

The world can be a difficult and dark place and escapist television offers respite and sanctuary from trauma. There is merit in this role because there is merit in optimism, in joy. Death doesn’t necessarily elevate material, nor make a show more meaningful. But what it can do, and did in the case of Outer Banks, is destroy what made this show so watchable in the first place. Comment by comment on countless posts one word appears more often than most: comfort. This was people’s comfort show, and JJ, was their comfort character, the perpetual under dog who despite his homelife was full of fun and mischief. The tragedy of this story is not so much JJ’s death but the fact that the writers fundamentally misunderstood why so many people connected with their show. They loved these kids. They wanted them to win in the end. 

And there is no winning now.

JJ should not have died.

Sometimes for stories to really live it’s best not to kill any of your darlings.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hey there! Could I please request Furina, Clorinde, and Navia with an S/O who fancies themselves as something of a vigilante (secretly or not is up to you, I have no particular preference) and generally likes to play pretty fast and loose with the laws? Thanks, hope you have a great day!

Them with a vigilante reader

characters: Furina / Clorinde / Navia x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: slight(?) angst in Clorinde’s part, light spoilers for the 2nd Arc of the Archon quest in Navia’s part

a/n: I have no idea if you wanted this to be angsty or fluffy, since the reader turning out to be a vigilante has more than enough potential for soul crushing angst, especially in the Nation of Justice, so I played it safe and go with the fluffier option whenever possible, that being said the Clorinde one is a bit more angsty, I think. 

Also, I'm still trying to get a feel for the characters, so if I got some of their character traits wrong, then I'm really sorry

So I hope this matches what you envisioned, if not, tell me and I’ll try to write it again.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Navia

While the main producer of Sinthe had been convicted and she finally got rid of her father’s undeserved epithet, Spina di Rosula’s work was not yet done. The biggest supplier may have been dealt with, but as long as there were still people making Mora from selling that substance, neither you nor Navia would rest, not after witnessing what it did to people’s lives.

Navia and you making for good partners shouldn’t have come as a big surprise for anyone. Both of you held an enmity for anyone related to the Sinthe-trade, neither of you held an unwavering trust towards the justice system and the both of you had known each other since long before she took up her fathers mantle. And while your operation wasn’t technically legal, considering how the Hydro Archons last encounters with Navia went, the state decided to turn a blind eye for as long as Spina di Rosula didn’t betray its new found reputation.

You couldn’t remember when the last time was that just the two of you got to eat together like this. For weeks your nights were short and full of investigating, and even when you got to close your eyes, your dreams were filled with the case. But now that most of the Sinthe dealers were locked up behind bars, Navia felt it was only right for the two of you to take some time off.

“Where are Silver and Melus?”, you couldn’t help but ask when you didn’t spot the two men. They were always by her side, no matter when and where she set off, something even more impressive considering Melus’ age.

“I sent them to take some time off, they deserved it. Well, that and I wanted to have some alone time with you”, she explained with a smile, grabbing the plate with her baking and handing it to you, causing you to grab a macron or two before returning the smile, your heavy eyes feeling just a little bit lighter.

“You seem tired, didn’t you say you’d try to fall asleep earlier?”, Navia noted upon seeing the circles under your eyes, causing you to wave it off.

“I did, but then I thought of something and before I knew it I was looking into something”, you tried to play it off, only for the Boss to frown.

“The biggest threat is dealt with, give it a break and get some good night sleep. Not sleeping much isn’t good for your health.”

“Okay mom”, you sarcastically responded, a playful smile growing on your lips. One Navia quickly matched.

“If you don’t stop playing with the reports so late at night, I’ll have to confiscate your toys”, she responded in kind, causing both of you to let out a few snickers before turning your attention to the food.

“Can you pass me the black tee?”, you eventually asked before pointing at the kettle, only for Navia to stop in the middle of her bite and glare at you.

“No. I wasn’t joking, you’re going to sleep early tonight. Even if I have to force you.”

Furina

You were nothing more than a proactive private Investigator. A proactive private Investigator that followed the law, obviously. Vigilantes were criminals, criminals with good intentions, but criminals nonetheless and for the God of Justice’s closest companion, being a criminal was obviously out of the question. Because she would never protect and keep a criminal by her side. That would be ridiculous.

That was the deal, and what Furina made sure you'd remember.

Had this sort of secret been kept by anybody else, Furina might have considered it a twist worth listening to. It would have made for a trial she wouldn’t have been able to wait to attend. But why did it have to be you? Had the Archon found out about your secret earlier, you would be sitting behind bars since a long time ago. Nobody but the state, nobody but her, was allowed to determine whether someone was a criminal or not. 

But by the time you eventually confessed it to her, it was too late. Were it her feelings that made her choose to keep shut or the knowledge that having news that the all knowing God of Justice didn’t notice her closest companion’s secret identity would deliver a considerable hit in her both trustworthiness and popularity as an Archon was irrelevant. The only thing counting being that you remembered those three important rules.

“Hand them over to the Gardes at the earliest possible opportunity, deliver evidence that there’s a crime that justifies me arresting them without the legal clearance to do so and don’t be seen.” While it would have been a lie to say that your lackluster recitation didn’t annoy Furina in the slightest, the fact that you remembered them word-by-word was reassurance enough that you would do your best to follow them.

For anyone unfamiliar with the person behind their god’s confident facade, it would have been a surprise to see their Archon nervously pacing around the room, but for you it was hardly a rare occurrence. Whenever you gathered enough information about a suspect to be certain they were a serious criminal and the only step left was to make them face justice, she’d sit you down in her room before hammering those rules into your brain..

“Exactly, and you better remember each and every one of those. I may have kept our- your secret so far, but don’t even think for a second I’ll hesitate to throw you into the dungeons myself if I hear you as much as consider breaking one of them”, she tried her hardest to keep her composure, and although the thought of making a small jest crossed your mind, doubting the validity of her threat, it wouldn’t surprise you if anything but a 100% serious answer would be enough to make her pass out, and so you cleverly decided to shut up and nod.

“Good, I could see from the moment I first laid eyes on you that you weren’t a criminal, so rise and do what you have to do”, she continued to cling to the image of the well spoken, righteous Archon her citizens surely knew her as before just as quickly collapsing onto the same chair the moment the door closed behind you.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself???”

Clorinde

While your family wasn’t wealthy enough to pay for you to get any kind of training, you were always a fascinated with sword fighting, so much so that the moment you finally saved enough to buy a good sword you asked Clorinde to teach you how to properly use it, something she saw no reason to refuse.

You had gotten a lot better since the first time the two of you trained, not nearly good enough to best her, but more than certainly enough to hold your ground against most enemies and threats in the wild. A part of her wanted to feel proud about her accomplishments as a teacher, but she couldn’t, not when she knew what you were using those acquired skills for.

Clorinde wasn’t blind. She knew something was going on the moment you started returning home in bruises and wounds from your “late-night walks”. At first she assumed some petty criminals must have started extorting you, but when you didn’t seem to be missing anything and she heard about a mysterious person apprehending criminals, it didn’t take her long to realize just what you were doing.

“What do you think of that ‘vigilante’ everyone is talking about?”, you asked while trying your best to block whatever attack she threw at you, your eyes landing on her for just a split second before fixating on her blade again. 

Well, you couldn’t be more direct. 

“I’m not sure. I know desiring justice is a noble trait, but if it’s justice they’re after, why not report the cases to the Gardes?”, she responded calmly, trying her best to keep her suspicions as hidden as possible.

“Maybe they don’t trust Fontaine’s law enforcement to do their job?”, you countered just as calmly, not averting your eyes from her weapon for even a split second.

“And what’s your opinion on the way the court does its sentencing? Just between the two of us”, her gaze left her own blade long ago, slowly but surely making their way down towards you.

“It’s certainly an entertaining spectacle”, you explained, only for her blade to suddenly change course and hit you in the chest. The only thing stopping it from sinking into you being the fact that it was a dull training sword. Before you knew it, Clorinde was silently staring you down, staring straight into your eyes and sending a shiver down your spine. Before finally speaking up once again.

“Then I hope they don’t get caught. The last thing I want to do is have to fight them in a real duel.”

If it took her, a duelist, nothing but a closer look to figure your secret out, it wouldn’t take a prosecutor long either. For your sake-, both of your sakes however, she hoped you’d manage to keep any suspicion away from you… at least long enough until she didn’t have to worry about you losing against her fellow champions. 

[liampaynemysteriousdeath]

Wanted to say thank you so much for doing this, and hopefully, the truth will come out and Liam will get the justice and peace he deserves. Thank you for your work in compiling all of this, and spreading more information about this out there for more to see. Gonna send this ask to someone else here for their work in investigating and compiling about Liam as well haha. Thank you!!

aww thank you so much! That is very kind of you to say. :) I honestly wasn't even planning on making a blog. But then i kept finding more oddities.

I honestly thought at the beginning he decided on his own to end it all, but then someone said there was no goodbye note. I'm like OK so then maybe it was an unfortunate accident. But then things didn't add up with conflicting stories.But I started seeing comments from the locals about how corrupt it is over there and no justice is served.

and then i started reflecting on lots of things that came I to my mind. Like for example, demi lovatos drug dealer had victimized her by lacing her drugs so he could take advantage of her which put her in the hospital fighting for her life. Thankfully she pulled through. I wish we could say the same for liam. 💔 it sucks that just bevause celebrities can so times be addicts that everyone just assumes it was an overdose. I wish more people could see for themselves and use critical thinking that everything is not what it seems. Truth is stranger than fiction.

Idk if you saw that one dreezy guy on tiktok, he talks about how there have been lots of drug deaths in the area reported. And then the US issued a warning to tourists that this kind of thing happens a lot in that country.and that one tiktok girl has a really good theory as well.

I hope she's not right, but it almost seems like a courptney love/khrt cobaine situation if she is correct...

Anyways, Check out my pinnedpost. I think im onto something lol...

I wish my blog was less messy and more organized but I don't have time for aesthetics lol. People can use the search feature I guess lol.

I'm glad more people are waking up to the truth and finally questioning things.

This isn't the first celebrity death I've come across that has had weird circumstances. I remember years ago, a certain celeb, there was debt involved with the celebs manager as well. Anither similairty is tmz was always the first to report everything. Also certain things were setup ahead of time, there were also witnesses who were paid actors, etc.

Anyways thank you for checking out my blog and for encouragement lol. I'm slightly burned out from dedicating about a hundred or so hours to research, etc. But it will all be worth it in the end when liam gets justice I hope. 🤞

P.s. any research you wanna keep feel free to take screenshots and whatever else you find I teresting bevause certain articles have been taken down and certain social medias have also been shut down suddenly. Both times connected to roger it seems,

Edited to add the tmz part.because certain celeb I talked about theirs was handled by tmz as well, so i feel like it's worth mentioning.

[faxxmodem]

i lied 🙍🏻‍♂️ i know the investigative journalist 🔎👨🏻‍💻 in there ⬅️🥩 his name is charles he was writing ✍🏻📝 a story 📰 about what i did 🙍🏻‍♂️ what did you do 🤔 a dealer 👤 gave me an ounce 👝 of heroin 💉💉 to burn down 🔥⬇️ an abandoned building 🏚️ but it oh god ✝️ it wasn't abandoned ❌🏚️ there was eight 8️⃣ people 👥 in there eight 8️⃣ people 👥 died ⚰️🪦 and and the feds 🕵🏻‍♀️🕵🏻‍♂️ got involved and i 🙍🏻‍♂️ got caught but i made a deal 🖊️📋 and my dad 🧔🏻‍♂️ got me off 💰🗝️🔓but the guy 👤 who hired me 🙍🏻‍♂️ disappeared 💨 and nothing ❌ happened nothing ❌ happened 🤦🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️ 💡❗️that's 💡❗️how she knew me 👩🏻‍💼 the woman 👩🏾‍💼 in the tub ⚡️🛀🏾⚡️ the fire 🔥 it's what connects 🪢🔗 us 👱🏻‍♀️👨🏼‍🦲👩🏾🧑🏻👩🏻 the fire inspector 🔥👮🏻‍♀️🔎 who wrote the bogus ❌🙅🏻 accident report ⚠️📑 the city planner 🏙️👩🏾‍💼🗺️ who pushed🫸🏾 through the residential 🏘️ permits 🗂️ the journalist 📝👨🏻‍💻 📋 that buried 🕳️the investigative story 🔎📰 the rich kid 💰💵 junkie 🙍🏻‍♂️💉💉who was the patsy 👼 and the real estate 🏚️🏗️🏠 developer 👩🏻‍💼 who set it all ♾️ in motion 🔄 we killed ⚰️🪦 eight people 8️⃣ 👥 and stole 🥷🏻 a property 🏚️ and nobody ❌🙅🏻 cared 😢💔 nobody ❌🙅🏻 cared ⁉️ eight 8️⃣ people 👥 and their families 👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 cared 😢💔 the feds 🕵🏻‍♀️🕵🏻‍♂️ 🚨 cared 😢💔 look 👀 at my fucking arm 💪🏻 i cared 😢💔 i cared 😢💔 but you didn't 🙅🏻 face justice ⚖️🧑🏻‍⚖️ none ❌ of us 🕵🏻‍♀️👩🏾‍💼👨🏻‍💻🙍🏻‍♂️👩🏻‍💼 did ❌ why 🤔 did they all do it why 🤔 was it for money 🤑💰💵 this was your 🫵🏻 plan you 🫵🏻were the one 👆🏻behind it⁉️ there was eight 8️⃣ people 👥 still living in that building 🏚️🏢 you 🫵🏻 had to know 🧠 that did you know 🧠 that ⁉️🙍🏻‍♀️ you're 🫵🏻 a monster 🧟‍♀️ so are you 🫵🏻 🧟‍♂️ we both 👫🏻 deserve to be here ⬇️🫙

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hihi~

I thought I'd make another request, if that's okay?

May I ask for number 4 and 42 with...hm...let's go with Jango again since you did so good with him last time!

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

Hello gorgeous @vodika-vibes

Thank you so much for the request, that's so sweet of you. Love oo.

I hope you like this one as well. As this is my second time writing for Jango Fett, I hope I did him justice in your eyes. Thank you for being amazing, and congratulations on your 500 follower event. You are such a brilliant writer, you deserve all the follows.

Oh, before I forget, I wrote with a f!reader, hope that's okay.

Love oo,

The Job

Warnings: Weapons dealer, mentions of assassination, angst, longing, mentions of eradicating Jedis, put-on pleasantries, alcohol, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Italics: Flash back

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Your voice filled the room as you went on about one story or another, “…You should have seen them. I could hardly breathe with their ego taking up all the space in the room.”

Jango rolled his eyes as he stood off to the side, listening to you tell another story about some boring Senator or something. Truthfully, he only took the job of being your bodyguard, simply because he needed credits, not because he actually cared about you. 

Regardless of whatever notion ran through your head. 

Regardless of how amazing the dress you wore looked on you. 

Regardless of how shapely your legs looked in those heels, or how your neck was displayed so lovingly, practically inviting him to bite it, and kiss it with the way your hair was done up. 

He was here solely for the credits. 

At least that’s what he kept reminding himself, as he followed you around the room, while you were glad-handing the various Senators, politicians and potential buyers for your weapons. It actually made him laugh that a weapon’s manufacturer needed a bodyguard. 

“I don’t need a bodyguard” you emphatically stated, as you met with him before the job, “what I need is a second pair of eyes that I can trust.”

“You think you can trust me?” Jango narrowed his eyes on you, someone who trusted a bounty hunter or a bodyguard for hire was clearly looking for a way to end their own life fast. 

“I don’t trust you. However, I do trust your Mandalorian honour, and the fact that I’ll pay you more money than anyone else is able to; that’s what I trust.”

“What could you possibly know about Mandalorian honour?”

“I know enough. Enough to make sure that your pay will not be looked down on in any way shape or form.”

And just like that he was on the payroll, granted this was now his fifth job with you. The first time, you gave him a bonus for stopping an assassin. The second time, you gifted him a new set of blasters, top of the line from your latest batch. The fourth time, you upgraded his armour’s software. It provided him intel on a level he never imagined possible. Each job always left him better off than the time before, and he wasn’t complaining; however this wasn’t the job he was going to dedicate the rest of his life too.

His eyes focused on your hands, waiting for the signal that said you had enough and you wanted to head back to your suite.

As much as you looked like you were having fun, laughing, joking, even flirting with some, the truth of the matter was that you hated talking to people. You only did it because you were the CEO and President of your weapons company. If it wasn’t so you could earn more credits, you’d never even bother to speak to half of those who were all so quick to practically lick your feet. 

You flicked your wrist three times in a counter-clockwise motion against your thigh. It was your signal, you had enough. Enough of the fake laughing, enough of the pretend happiness, enough of the put upon smiles. To anyone else, it looked as though you were getting rid of some speck of dust that seemed to bother you, to Jango however, it was your call for help. 

His steps toward you were full of purpose and determination as he closed the distance. 

“Mistress,” he whispered loud enough for others to hear, “you have an urgent call.”

You nodded in understanding, pretending it was a chore to leave the company of these so-called exquisite associates. You bowed, offering your apologies one last time, leaving them with a flirty laugh and a fond farewell. 

The moment you entered the lift, you let out a sigh of freedom as you began to undo your hair, the myriad of pins keeping your hair in place were now in Jango’s hand. Without even having to ask, he held out his gloved hand ready to receive your offerings. You let out a contented sigh as you shook your hair out massaging the scalp to ease its tension.

“Why do you bother?”

“Hmm?” You asked as your eyes closed enjoying the freedom your hair felt.

“Why bother putting it up? Especially in such an intricate design.”

“Because…” you let out, enjoying the feeling of your nails stimulating your scalp, “at a high society gathering, and one where I am looking to gain one or two more buyers, I have learned the more intricate your hair, the more likely you are to gain someone’s attention.”

“Really?” He tilted his head as he looked at you, “Because they’re too stupid to realize you’re just as brilliant and beautiful with your hair down as opposed to up?”

Your fingers froze in place as you glanced up to look at Jango, smiling, “Did you just say I was beautiful and brilliant?”

“I believe I said brilliant and beautiful. Interesting how you flipped that. I also said they were too stupid to recognize your talents.”

“But you think I’m beautiful.” You smiled as you let your fingers glide down your scalp, guiding your hair over one shoulder. 

“That’s what you choose to focus on?” Jango shrugged, “Fine that’s on you. Anyway, I really don’t understand how having an intricate hair updo correlates to signing a potential client?”

You shrugged, not understanding it yourself, “All I can figure is that they must feel a woman who handles such intricate designs must be able to handle the intricate world of weapons. I don’t know.”

The lift dinged as you reached your floor, Jango put away the pins in one of his utility belt pockets. Before he opened the doors to the lift his helmet scanned the hallway, making sure there were no unwanted guests waiting for you. Once he opened the door he examined the hallway, keeping you guarded, after making sure it was safe then and only then were you allowed to exit the lift. Once you did, Jango put the lift back into service and sent it back down. 

As soon as you entered your suite, you took off your heels and walked around the carpeted floor barefoot. “Oh my force!” You stood curling your toes into the carpet, “This feels divine!”

He couldn’t help laughing at your reaction, as you stood there for a few minutes, your head tilted back as you kept sighing in contentment from the relief, “Must you wear those heels?”

“Let me ask you, did you or did you not notice my legs in them?”

“Yeah,” he answered, not feeling ashamed or embarrassed, you had amazing legs, maybe not to everyone, but to him … he thought they were beautifully sculpted. 

“Did it make you want to talk to me?”

“I guess.”

“Hence the heels, everything I do is to make it easier for me to find more potential buyers.” You stretched as you headed to the bar the suite contained. “Want a drink?”

Jango nodded as he took off his helmet, “Mandalorian whiskey, Keldabe Night, top shelf.”

“But of course.” You smiled as you poured him the darker whiskey, while you served yourself a more amber coloured Corellian whiskey. “Thank you.”

“You’re paying me. Not sure how much a thank you really is needed.” He stated as he took a sip of his drink.

“No, I mean, thanks for making today a little less depressing. Just knowing you’re there to have my back, and knowing I can be myself around you … it gives me a little bit of peace, so I appreciate it.”

He wasn’t there for accolades or to be your friend, he was there to earn a paycheque. To earn credits, and to rebuild his status until he could exact revenge on the Jedi. “Again, you’re paying me. So not sure how much your thank yous are needed.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you headed to your bedroom, “You can’t just say, you’re welcome. Even if you said it just once, it won’t kill you.”

He watched you walk off annoyed at him. Well if you were going to be this pissed already, might as well rip the bacta bandaid off, “I won’t be able to work for you anymore.”

You froze in your spot, your heart clenching as you realized the warm feeling you felt for him had seeped further into your soul than you had realized. You turned to look at him, shock in your eyes. “What?”

Jango cleared his throat as he looked away from you, “I got another gig. Pay is a lot more, and it will help me accomplish my goal.” At least that’s what Lord Tyranus promised, a way for him to exact revenge on the Jedi, a way to help rid the galaxy of his enemies once and for all. “It’s a long-term commitment. I won’t be able to take on anymore of your requests.”

Tears welled up in your eyes for a second as you looked at him, you closed your eyes for a brief moment before you nodded, “Understood.” You steadied your nerves and looked him in the eyes, “Well then, thank you Jango Fett for all your services. I assume you will stay at your post until I am safely returned home?”

“Of course.”

“Good” you turned and headed to your room, “I will include a bonus as a thank you for your exemplary service. If you know of anyone who you trust to take your place, please make sure to forward me their contact information.” You slammed the door closed and leaned against the frame as you slowly slid down, wiping the tears. You knew this wasn’t ever going to amount to anything, yet you had let your heart foolishly hope for something, you hadn’t hoped for in a long time. 

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Tag list:

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[glittering-moonlillie]

Word Count: 1410

Warnings: Moderately suggestive

When it comes to flirting, either go big or go home

You had always considered yourself a Robin Hood type of person; steal from the stupidly rich and give to the suffering poor. Gotham was a completely broken city, filled with drug dealers, psychotic clowns, and vigilante furries running around trying to keep everything together. No one here was served the justice they deserved and it angered you. Batman and his crew could only do so much, considering they never killed and the villains they arrested always escaped Arkham Asylum within a few months.

You desperately wanted to be of aid to your city, to help and make a mark in some way. You were never the violent type, so you created a different plan to make an impact. One of the things that aggravated you most about this damn city was the huge divide between the rich and poor. The wealthy only used their money to get richer, mostly in ways that would certainly land them in jail until they were wrinkly in any other place. Meanwhile, too many people lined the streets cold and starving, and in desperate need of shelter. It was disgusting how the millionaires of Gotham refused to help their own people.

You were convinced that the only way to help was to force the rich to help Gotham through your own means. Thus, you went to the nearest fabric store and sat down at your sewing machine, attempting to make your vigilante costume. You took inspiration from Catwoman’s attire - all sleek and black, allowing you to slip into the night without being traced; although, instead of stealing for yourself, you would use the money you got in order to help the people on the streets.

The first night you had donned the outfit you had made, you were hit with immediate regret. Gotham was no doubt a dangerous place, especially at night, how would you even be able to sneak into someone’s (probably) heavily guarded mansion and get the money you need? It had taken you several prep talks in the bathroom and a catchy playlist meant to pump you up in order for you to gain the courage you needed to slip out the window of your apartment.

Surprisingly, you did not get caught the first few nights. As a matter of fact, you didn’t get caught at all for the first few months of your newly found hobby. Luck must have really been on your side. The news had deemed you the newest Gotham villain that had terrorized the homes of thousands. You really didn’t care if Gotham called you a villain, the smiling faces of the people you helped in the soup kitchens and on the streets kept you warm enough to persevere through the inaccurate portrayal - but the fact that they had said you robbed thousands of houses -now that was a little generous.

You found yourself getting into a habit, creating a sufficient route of houses that you would rob - ones that would be empty so that you wouldn’t have to deal with people. Perhaps that is how you got into this situation.

You would have sworn you were careful when entering and leaving the house, no one was around and you had already thoroughly disarmed the security cameras with a handy dandy rock. At least - that’s what you had thought until the bag filled with money was kicked from your hands. Something had attached itself to your waist, whirling around your body until your movement was restricted, causing you to fall to the floor with a thud.

“Ow!” A dark shadow loomed over you and upon closer inspection, you realized that it was the traffic light assassin himself. His hair flitted in the wind, the glare he had pierced through your soul. He was hot, sexy even, you knew that the first time you saw him on your small TV screen. Seeing him in person though? Now that was enough fodder for you to go home with.

“Well…this is kinky.” Curse you and your uncensored mouth. You couldn’t help it, being in uncomfortable situations pushed a button in your brain that caused you to have absolutely no filter whatsoever.

Robin seemed to cringe, his nose crinkling and his mouth twisting into a deeper frown. “What were you doing up here?”

You pulled yourself up from the floor into a sitting position, your knees rubbing together. “I was stealing from this asshole's house, obviously. I thought you were smarter than that, boy wonder.”

Robin stepped closer to you and eventually crouched down. “You have spent the past few months stealing from rich houses like this,” He grabbed the bag of money and held it in front of you, “I want to know what you are doing with this money and why you are stealing it.”

The proximity of you two made your heart skip multiple beats, it was shocking how you didn’t die on the spot. You could briefly see his eyes through his mask, but not enough to make out a definite shape or color. Heat rose up your neck and the rope around you seemed too tight all of a sudden. Truly, you were speechless. This seemed to amuse Robin.

“Is that enough of an answer for you, darling.” A smirk tugged at his exquisite lips. It took all of the self restraint you had not to push yourself forward and kiss him.

You flashed him your own smirk. “Hm, I’m not sure if I want to tell you yet. Maybe there’s a way you can force the answer out of me.”

Robin leaned in closer, just enough so you could feel his breath fanning your cheek. “And what makes you think I would ever do that?”

“Because,” You shrugged, “I am irresistible.”

Something about that statement made Robin suddenly pull away and turn his back towards you, creating an achingly long distance between you two. He cleared his throat, his face now just as scarlet as yours. He readjusted his gloves.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while. It’s surprising how no one has been able to unearth your identity yet, considering how reckless you are and how complacent you have become.” A shiver runs down your spine.

“You don’t seem like a villain, your pattern suggests that you purposefully try to avoid confrontations and fights. I also noticed that you have only been robbing from Gotham’s elites, notably the more…scummy…ones.”

“Is this normally how you sweet talk women into your bed?” You snorted.

He decided to ignore your statement. “Whatever you are doing with this money, it must be important enough to risk your life every week.”

“Ah, there’s that intelligence that people find so attractive-” You attempted to say before Robin cut you off.

“You are so talkative, it makes me wonder if you ever shut up.” His husky voice sent you spiraling further into the clouded lands of desire.

“Then maybe you should find a way to shut me up, Robin.” You said in the most seductive voice you could muster. It seemed that that statement made the young vigilante hero flustered, his gloved hand covering his face and his head shaking in disapproval. Finally, he let out a long, drawn out, sigh.

“You are absolutely impossible, you know that? Just tell me why you are doing this.”

While the conversation continued, you managed to shimmy the pocket knife you had (for emergencies) out of your, well, pocket. You carefully took one of the wires and slowly began to cut. The rope proceeded to break with a snap, quickly alerting Robin to your new freedom - but before he could do anything about it, you had already wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in close enough to kiss him if you gave yourself a tiny push.

“I don’t feel like telling you just yet, lil Birdie.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Sadly, as much as I have loved this interaction of ours, I do have to bid you goodbye. Maybe next time you’ll catch me again, hm?”

Robin stared at you in shock, his hand hovering over the place you had kissed him, the money a forlorn memory in his mind. He watched as your frame was swallowed by the thick, black, shadows of Gotham. It took him a few seconds, but his smirk slowly made its way back onto his face. If it was a game you wanted, it was a game you were going to get.

To be completely honest, writing flirty readers is very hard for me, mostly because I am unable to flirt to save my life; nevertheless, this was insanely fun to write! I hope that it lives up to your standards! Thank you so much for the request!!!!

Now off to write part three of I hate you, be my girlfriend >:DD

[winwintea]

an explanation for belladonna.

i'll be posting the "good" ending tomorrow, but i'd like to post this first to clear up some confusion. (also so u dont think im moving on lol.) some parts of this won't make sense until you read tomorrow's chapter, but i hope this can offer some clarity!

as i said before i would explain everything. this explanation combines both elements of the bad and the "good" ending, however the basic storyline of the fic is still the same.

the bad ending is the true ending. my original intent was for renjun to actually be the killer like in the good ending, but i changed after learning how predictable that might be, plus i couldn't come up with a clear motive for renjun to be a murderer. i later changed it to y/n after realizing i could spin the whole story, making it seem like in y/n's eyes that renjun was actually the killer. it makes for an even bigger plot twist, since y/n is as confused as the reader is too.

who is y/n?

as revealed in the "good" ending, y/n is karina's supposed dead twin sister. how karina killed her was never explained by karina, but it involved a lot of toxic chemicals. toxic chemicals that unfortunately scarred and damaged y/n's face. although she was able to fix her looks, she never looked the same. which is why karina never recognized y/n. y/n took advantage of this fact to manipulate karina into thinking she was "y/n".

y/n is not y/n's real name. (lowkey could not come up with a name for karina's twin so it's up to your imagination here.)

y/n came to the theatre with an intent for revenge on her twin sister. she planned to expose her sister for her lies and find the truth in those lies.

how does y/n not know she was the murderer?

y/n was never a reliable narrator. period.

her trauma from the karina-twin accident caused her to develop a split personality disorder. one personality was the newly created "y/n" ready for a new life and ready to become a detective. the other personality, is y/n's old personality hardened to become a protector and have a desire to exact revenge on those who deserve justice. y/n represents the negatives and positives of achieving justice. like her twitter handle, she is "lady truth". the truth is ugly. but do you still search for it and seek it no matter the price? belladonna plays heavily into the ideas of truth and justice.

i invite you to take a look at johnny and y/n's twitter handles. a detective's job is to make an inference. y/n on the other hand wants to find the truth. even kun's bio echoes this idea of truth.

another big clue you could've picked up on was the "anonymous" murder texts. obviously this was a reference to y/n having conversations with herself under the guise of texts. the texts aren't real. they're made up in y/n's head. she believed she was communicating with the murderer when it was really just her talking to herself. ever wonder why y/n never reported the texts or told anyone about it or did any ip tracing? she couldn't. the texts aren't real.

how is y/n connected to every character death?

this will obviously be further elaborated on in the "good" ending, but y/n is connected to every character death except for mark.

minnie - y/n was her drug dealer 🤩🤩

jay - "childhood best friend" she was never jay's childhood best friend. manipulated him into thinking she was one day (karina's twin or y/n had very good social and people skills!) and he was simply just a pawn in her plan to get to the theatre. she needed the invite in order to meet karina under normal circumstances.

mark - he pissed her off when he called her out lol. (rip mark)

kun - his wife (jiung's mom) got an abortion at the same clinic that did y/n's facial reconstruction. hearing her story made y/n want to extract revenge.

karina - y/n's twin sister.

[absurdumsid]

hi i have more thoughts and i finished watching kotoko's audio drama (absolutely devastated there is not a single mention of her past *slamming the floor with my fist*) BUT OH MY GOD. i am very insane *looks at you with big wide eyes*

ok but one thing i wanna mention i saw someone comment under kotoko's mv that at the very end, she uses the scale (which is something often used in judgement) as the "murder weapon" for all of the chess pieces, aka her vision of justice is using justice itself as her reason for attacking. the neon blood is splattered everywhere, including the scale.

ANYWAY VOICE DRAMAAAAAA~~ the irony of kotoko pointing out "oh are you voting based on preference and bias and not their crimes?" is so funny because Jackalope literally said you can vote based on any basis.

"when the killer is met with violence, that's called karmic retribution" i feel like this line is important because she believes that all of the prisoners in MILGRAM are here for a reason, and that they have all killed someone, hence they deserve karma. she would have gone for all of them, but from what i recall Jackalope had specifically stated that prisoners with innocent verdicts could do what they wanted, hence they could protect themselves from Kotoko, but also the guilty verdicts meant that she had a "proper" reason to go and attack them.

me when i see kotoko manipulating es like oooooh you wanna give me power so baaaaaad i'll be your fangs i'll do everything i'll do the dirty work i will attack them and none of them are forgiven. but also her entire speech about being a bystander and watching all of these "crimes" being laid out in front of es, in front of us the audience is soooo silly funny i love you kotoko. "why won't you do anything if you think that it's evil"

last note: Es' headache when kotoko mentions "i'll be your fangs," and personally i've interpreted it as: Es the warden who is supposed to be the judgement dealer, has passed the responsibility to kotoko, who intends to attack everyone. But also this headache is not caused by Es' own confusion and confidence in her ability as warden. I think this is MILGRAM's doing and her status as prisoner 00. as for why, i don't have concrete evidence but from what i remember it has happened a few times? (i think it was yuno's 2nd voice drama?)

anyway *clicks guilty* my work here is cleaned up :] (i'm definitely wrong about things i'm just spitballing the 1st thing that came to mind) (also she views things as very black and white. you killed someone, so you deserve to pay. life isn't that simple honey :sob:)

I LOVEE READING MILGRAM THEORIES SM

+ heres my addition !!!! (somebody else acually pointed it out but i cant FIND THEM IF U SEE THIS HI !! I SAW UR NOVELGRAM POST AND IT STUCK SO HARD,,,,,,,)

screenshots from 1:27 of the MV, the unofficial novelgram translation (chapter 5), and chapter 5 page 6 of the unofficial novelgram manga translation.

it kinda shows that while she wants the other prisoners not to be forgiven so that she'll have a justifiable reason to deliver her justice onto them, she is also judging herself for her own sins and knows she's unforgivable (or not, maybe she thinks her justice is correct and therefore she is forgivable, idk)

also, the table and chairs are very similar to kotoko's round table where she sits in the taller chair assigned to the warden !

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

There are two dorks within me:

(I am neither well rested nor sober, forgive this being messy af)

Dorkus Primus sees Gotham War's plotline as being critically about the fact that there are more lines to cross than just killing and that if you (as Batman has in many many renditions of him) treat killing as the ONLY line you will not cross (also like a lot of Cops and Coppaganda does) then you ain't a hero! You will treat criminals in monstrous ways if you are willing to do anything except kill!!

Hurting Jason was very clearly meant to be one of those lines! Feeling like Batman is the villain in this one is the point!!

And like the Zur thing seems to be about grappling with how Batman is fundamentally not an answer to the challenges that the criminals themselves are facing because 'fuck em up and let the hospital and justice systems sort em out' does not do anything to help the criminals!!!! The Distilled Essence of Batman's reaction to seeing a dead criminal was to go hurt other criminals just as our own criminal "justice" system has no answer other than to hurt other criminals or victim blame the dead criminals.

Bruce, the side of human compassion, was willing to consider Selina's plan after seeing results because no matter how realistic or unrealistic Catwoman's scheme might be in logistical terms, if you accept the comic's premise that it was working, then it is factually more compassionate! People who commit crimes deserve compassion! Even if, or especially if, they continue to need to operate outside the law in order to survive! Batman and Bruce being separated out is key.

It also makes a TON of sense to have Jason in the center because he has many times been used as the Bad Apple Cop who kills criminals and thus legitimizes Batman's justice as being repairative even though... it... it does not... uh... seem to have actually been repairative in any comic I've read. And yet! Due to Jason's history he has a rich potential to be someone who is far far more sympathetic to his fellow criminals. Arguably has been in several versions of him.

Sidenote: I would LOVE to see him take up 'controlling crime' in the direction of doing shit like making sure all dealers gave free clean needles to their customers or shit like that, not that I have any hope of that ever happening

Thus Dorkus Primus thinks that it is 10000000% utterly critical that no vigilante or villain kills anyone and that no one else dies for the rest of the story to keep it being about the other lines one should not cross and how criminals are entitled to way more human rights than just their lives!!!

Dorkus Secundus says that it would be off the chain sick-nasty (positive) if Bruce killed Jason again and the fact that he died at the end of Under the Red Hood (technically unconfirmed but like wow is the evidence real stronk) was finally addressed when Jason is inevitably resurrected and actually breaks down and/or slips up and admits that this was his FOURTH stint walking in the resurrection direction. Also any version of him getting declared Officially Immortal in the Jack Harkness way would be reaaaaally dope!

...Shit actually the Superboy Prime method of resurrection has a LOT in common with the Bad Wolf method... sleepy thoughts for a decidedly different day!

[apopcornkernel]

when i see a j stan get mad at the idea of gotham/crime alley citizens being afraid of red hood I'm like 😭😭😭 what 😭😭😭 i cannot help but think of ejk and death squads each time. in what world would jason's method of killing indiscriminate thugs be received with happiness INSIDE CRIME ALLEY where it's likely your friend or your family or your acquaintance who WAS that criminal. the idea of "but he only kills bad guys" is so fucking juvenile who gave him the right to be judge jury executioner? & what is your criteria for "bad" or "criminal"? what makes them or anyone DESERVING of death? ejk and death squads "only" target drug dealers and users* but sure man, they're definitely doing a great job distributing justice 👍

*and to be clear i do not think drug dealers nor users nor ANYONE "deserves" death or capital punishment

like i understand this is a fantasy in a way but also in practice it falls apart completely i cannot take u serious if u genuinely believe he's doing it the right way

[kamryn1963]

Summary: Al had a plan. He'd been waiting for this day, and nothing was going to stop him.

Al woke up with a groan, turning to turn his alarm clock off. He laid back on the couch, surprised he’d even managed to sleep the night before. That was rare nowadays for him. When his phone went off, he groaned again as he grabbed it and squinted at the message from Hank, seeing it was him asking Al to meet him at a crime scene. 

Al texted back but once he noticed the date, he smiled and turned his gaze to the bottle of sleeping pills on his coffee table and the three letters he’d written out last week. 

April 2nd. 

Exactly a month since Lexi had died. The day Al was finally allowing himself the freedom of death. Al had forced himself to stay around a month, he deserved to suffer to have to live without his daughter, his little girl. But now Al could leave. He just had to get through the day, go to work so nobody got suspicious and intervened. Al just had to show for one more day that he was fine. 

Al took a deep breath as he got dressed, finally feeling for the first time in a month that he could breath, that he could get through the day. If only to be able to come back to the pills, the sweet relief of death that awaited him. 

Twenty minutes later Al pulled up outside the crime scene where Hank and Jay already were. 

“Hey. What do we have?” Al asked as he came up next to Jay, Hank having gone to comfort who Al was guessing were the victim’s family. 

“Morning, O. 16 year old female, overdose. Fifth one this week.” Jay replied and Al sighed as he shoved his hands into his pockets so Jay couldn’t see them shaking. 

“Same dealer?” 

“We think so.” Jay confirmed as they both watched Hank try to talk to who Al was now sure was this girl’s parents. 

Al excused himself as the others arrived on scene, heading over to his car and leaning against it. The last week had been hard for everyone in the unit, but Al had barely been able to handle seeing these kids' bodies, hear their parents scream. It had made it increasingly difficult to wait until today to take the pills, but he had to. Needed to suffer after failing his daughter. 

It’s the least he deserved after all. For failing Lexi, for failing Meredith. 

“Al? You alright?” Al looked up, barely suppressing the urge to shout, as he saw Ruzek now standing in front of him. 

Adam had been watching him with his concerned look, more and more the last few days and Al was getting worried Adam would go say something to Hank and Trudy. Get them worried and then they’d ruin the night Al had planned. 

“I’m fine Adam.” Al snapped not even finding it in him to care as Adam flinched at his outburst. 

Al went back to the scene, avoiding everybody else’s looks. One more shift, one more case. Maybe they’d finally put the scumbag behind these drugs away and get justice for these kids. Maybe Al could do one more good thing with his life. 

Not like it’d outweigh all the bad Al had done in his life, but it’d be better than having to tell yet another parent that they couldn’t get justice for their child. 

–

By the end of the day, they had been able to find the man responsible and he was currently in a holding cell after Hank and Erin had gotten a full confession out of him. 

Al was glad, not only for the affected families, but for the fact that other than the conversation with Adam that morning, the unit had been too busy and focused on the case to question Al and his well-being. The others headed to Molly’s once the case and the paperwork that followed, had been finished up while Al muttered some excuse for not joining them and headed to his own car. 

He didn’t even realize Adam was watching him with a worried look from his own car. Or that Adam had headed back inside as soon as Al started pulling out of the district. 

Al was focused on getting home. He drove on autopilot, walking right past the house not even checking to see if Meredith was inside. He headed to the garage, removing his jacket and grabbing a beer before sitting down on the couch. 

Al grabbed the three letters and looked at them for a moment. One was addressed to Hank, one to Trudy and the third one to Michelle. Al sat them back down and opened his bottle of sleeping pills. 

He grabbed a handful of pills, swallowing them with a swig of his beer before repeating. Al lost count on how many times he’d did that, how many pills he’d consumed until there was a pounding on his garage door and the door opened, slamming against the wall from the force. 

Hank ran in, Trudy right behind him and Al realized he never locked the door. Al just sighed, grabbing more pills but being unable to swallow them before his beer was tugged out of his hands. Al tried to fight but the pills were starting to take effect, not to mention the weeks of him neglecting sleep and food, so he was no match for Hank right now. 

Al swallowed the last handful of pills dry before Hank or Trudy were able to stop him. The bottle of pills were taken away then, and Al just stared up at Hank and Trudy as they took in the scene. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Al was doing. 

“How many did you take, Alvin?” Trudy demanded as Hank reached for his phone. 

“Not enough.” Al slurred, reaching a hand up to try to knock Hank’s phone out of his hands. 

“Al, stop. You need an ambo.” Hank responded but Al just shook his head as Trudy sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. 

“Please don’t. I-I can’t do this, Hank. Just let me go please.” The sleeping pills were quickly taking effect and Al’s eyes began dropping. Trudy roughly patted his cheek trying to get him to open his eyes. Al obliged looking at Hank with bloodshot eyes. 

“Al, we can’t let you die.” Hank tried to keep the tears out of his own eyes as Al met his look with a pleading one of his own. 

“Ambo probably won’t make it in time to save me. Just go, please.” Al begged. He didn’t care he was begging, all he cared about was getting the relief of death he’d been dreaming for longer than he could remember. 

Damn Adam for having to go tattle to Hank and Trudy about Al acting “weird.”

“Alvin.” Trudy was crying, Al could hear it in her voice even if his eyes wouldn’t open anymore. 

Al’s body began feeling weaker and heavier as the sleeping pills began to quickly take effect. Finally, Not much longer now. 

Hank and Trudy looked at each other, both talking with their eyes. Tears silently fell down both their faces as Hank and Trudy came to a conclusion, moving so they were sitting on either side of Al who leaned into Hank’s side like he used to after a meltdown when they were young. Al just snuggled further into Hank’s chest as Trudy held his hand. 

Eventually Al’s breath slowed, his body growing slack. Even so Hank and Trudy didn’t move, just held their little brother until the sun set and the room grew dark. 

[fossilizations]

for me i think what really flipped the switch in my head re:prison abolition was an event i went to at my school about carceral reform where one of the speakers was a former drug dealer. like for a while i had agreed with the sort of pragmatic ideal of prison abolition - people make mistakes when they're young and uninformed and victims of the system etc . but this woman was dealing well into her 30s! she knew what she was doing was not just illegal but was immoral; she knew she was facilitating other people's destructive behaviors; she knew she had other options but she didn't want to stop because she liked the cushy lifestyle dealing afforded her. and like hearing this i really had to reckon with all those ideas i had about prison abolition because she wasn't a perfect victim and it wasn't as easy for me to accept that she didn't deserve incarceration. idk seeing her speak really helped me to understand radical forgiveness n restorative justice as praxis instead of just kind of parroting the talking points