#i want to throw him into a fucking pit of fire ants

[scumpatrol]

ERIC NORTHMAN | S5E6 TRUE BLOOD

[munchflix]

MUNCHFLIX - STREET FIGHTER (1994)

IMDB BLURB:  Col. Guile and various other martial arts heroes fight against the tyranny of Dictator M. Bison and his cohorts.

WARNINGS: Violence and just a whole lot of fucking weird shit

RATING: 20 Billion BisonDollars

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: All reviews are done solely for humor and should not be taken seriously ever. If you cannot handle cursing, crude humor and probably some offensive things, pls do not read this.

Munch: So we're here again with the muthafuckin' street fighter movie which is so fucking great. Everything about this is absolute garb but it's so much fun. Raul Julia is putting his entire pussy into this absurd performance. Jean Claude Van Damme is the most hilarious "American" I've ever seen. His accent is so thick it hurts.

Biscuits: My opening thoughts are 'I'm eepy', okay?? (Biscuits is sleep-deprived again)

Dib: This movie was shot in a whole ten weeks and allegedly Jean Claude Van Damme was blasted off his ass on coke during the filming of this movie.

M: Watching his performance, I'm not at ALL shocked by that. ANYWAY. We open on uh...a really intense opening credit scene with a news reel talking about how bad M. Bison played by Raul Julia ( may he rest in peace ) is. Chun Li is reporting? Because she's a reporter in this?

B: Allied Nations, is this world war three???

M: Sort of, M. Bison is kind of the dictator

D: There's our man! I guess we just have like a hostage pit in M. Bison's doom dome? I forgot how shit the acting was. Raul was also years into battling stomach cancer when this was filmed.

M: VanDamme shows up as Guile and threatens Bison on the air which goes pretty well, you can't even understand his fucking accent.

B: I keep feeling phantom ants, like a meth addict. What is happening??

D: A lot, it doesn't slow down.

M: I'm trying to summarize but this goes like 100 mph. We've been introduced to Chun Li and Charlie and Blanka who are the same person, shut up, and E. Honda and DJ and Cami played by Kylie Minolgue.

D: Charlie and Blanka are different people in the game.

B: I don't understand what's going on

D: M. Bison has taken hostages and he wants 20 billion dollars from the government.

B: WHAT government???

D: THE government. Basically he wants it from Guile (vandamme) And now we're gonna be introduced to Ryu and Ken at a random street fight in a barbed wire electrified cage

B: These are Ryu and Ken??

Y’know, Ryu and Ken from Street Fighter...

D: And Vega, who kinda looks like his character. And that's Sagat. Sagat and Ryu and Ken have historical beef but not in this movie.

M: This is so much to take in. I guess Sagat is trying to get Ryu and Ken to help him sell guns.

B: So this white guy and this asian guy meet Barack Obama in some weird asian nightclub and they throw tennis balls at them and now they're fighting.

D: This will be the only fight for like...an hour. Meanwhile in Shadaloo? We're back with M. Bison. In this movie, Dhalsim is not a yogi, he's just a scientist? They couldn't do the stretchy limbs thing but come on.

B: They are just firing characters at us!

D: Canonically Blanka is just a weird guy, not some super soldier they created in a lab??? And definitely not Charlie.

M: Back to Dhalsim and M.Bison who is torturing BlankaCharlie with nazi propaganda and stuff to make him BAD. Also Zangief is here staring confusedly in the background, which he does the entire movie and I love him so much.

You can tell he’s being brainwashed because he’s wearing one of those photo-viewer toys from the 90s.

B: FUCKING OTTER POP JUICE LABELLED MUTAGENS DO NOT TOUCH! Can we fucking slow down please??

D: No! this movie does not. Now we're starting with another street fight between Vega and Rye-u or Ryu, it changes constantly.

B: I've seen better acting in a porno.

D: Ken looks like he belongs in a porno. Everyone is shirtless and the audience is horny.

B: That is not a real sword.

M: They could not afford real weapons.

B: When you don't have the money to score your movie, you can just throw in royalty free classical pieces! It’s not lazy or distracting at all!

D: But the fight is interrupted by a tank with Guile in it, and also 800 phone calls from Munch's mother.

M: That's not a joke, she’s called six times in the past half hour. Anyway, it's Guile. He's here with some guys that will not be relevant at all to the rest of the movie except maybe Cami but even then....and there's a spy guy.

B: Is that what spies do?? they just jump up in the middle of meetings and attack?? That's some good cold war espionage right there. What? Ken and Ryu are in jail eating scrambled eggs. That wasn't even a grammatically correct sentence.

D: Back in jail, they're all fighting for some reason.

M: Why?

D: I don't know. Guile is watching from above and back in Charlie's tickle basement, BlankaCharlie is being tortured again and there was a scream when his mouth was closed. Dhalsim is not happy with their methods though so he's gonna make CharlieBlanka look at nice things? they're making CharlieBlanka really swole by showing him bad things? and injecting him with dna otter pop mutagen.

I had to put an image in here of this shit to show you just how much it looks like otter pop juice.

M: Makes perfect sense. Back at the movie! Refugee camp with uh...the allies?

D: Here's ken and ryu and van damme

M: I guess he JUST broke them from prison?

D: Ryu and Ken are not criminals.

M: Just lovers.

D: No Ken is married. Not to Ryu.

B: Yeah, I've never heard of a married gay man.

M: Guile's accent is murdering me, his one liners are just so bad. So so bad.

D: Ken and Ryu fake beef for some reason. Vega hasn't said a single word in this movie. Oh they were stealing the keys.

B: They just throw the keys up in front of everyone, just show em off.

D: And then Ken gives Sagat and Vega the keys anyway but now there's a prison break.

B: I like how the Allied nation guys just have like random flags on them

D: Well technically that's supposed to be where they're from. Guile is shooting down a van but he just got shot.

B: What is the PLOT of this movie right now???

D: Chun Li does an epic dodge roll and there's shooting and then Ken and Sagat kiss. Just kidding. GUILE IS DEAD.

M: He's not though. There's medics, and now elephants back in Shadaloo. M. Bison is making a mini replica of Bisonopolis because he's gotta have a monument to his ego. Chun Li is reporting again about how bad Bison is and how Guile is dead. For real.

Reports have been coming in of a man posing as a health inspector in order to obtain free food.

D: DJ also didn't work for Shadaloo. Raul Julia M Bison's the hell out of this.

B: Is that what you want, M. Bison? Because I'm really confused about what your actual motivation is.

D: He's about to explain it.

B: So the evil leather daddy nazi wants to create an army of super soldiers to save everyone by...killing everyone?

M: Zangief sheds a tear and says Bison's speech was beautiful. He is my favorite. Everyone's alliances here are very suspect. There's a curfew now and stuff. Bad things are happening.

B: Why does Bison needs 20 million for this?

D: I don't know. Chun Li is apparently really a spy. Or a ninja. Or both.

B: She puts on like a bad balaclava and then she just like stealths up into the AN headquarters. Very sneaky. Apparently to sneak you just walk sideways in a black jumpsuit and put your hands up like oooooh.

D: She's got her very loud tracking thing and she's in the morgue, which is empty save ONE dead guy, being Guile. It's full of wet specimens in jars like any good morgue.

B: Oh fuck he's dead. I was so emotionally invested in this character.

M: I like how they just left him in his clothes. Like you do with dead bodies. No autopsy for Guile. He immediately has Chun Li arrested. She's got a sad backstory about how she wants to kill Bison for reasons.

B: I like the random classroom skeleton in the morgue. What war?? Is this just Shadaloo against the entire world?

D: Yep!

B: All the action sequences are so bad, she's just like speed walking away.

D: meanwhile at an illegal gun auction in Shadaloo....

M: Bison is sitting there while ppl who are definitely NOT Honda and Chun Li and Balrog in costume are performing. How did they get there? We don't know. Everyone is just in Shadaloo in a one kilometer radius but Bison doesn't notice.

D: and now Ken is horny for Chun Li but DJ is also horny for...someone. Ken is gonna get kidnapped.

M: Zangief is here, my special boy.

D: Ken is gonna get beaten by Chun Li because he's a scrub. Canonically.

B: Whoah pilot, I'm not that kinda guy. Bison and Sagat are getting a little too close.

D: Bison gives Sagat an entire case of "Bison Money" and says that it will be worth five times the pound when he kidnaps the queen. Which is a great line. Sagat gets mad.

B: Thanks for that backstory, now we know that Honda and Balrog were a sumo wrestler and a boxer. Someone should have told them they didn't need to put every single fucking character from the game in the movie.

M: But they did. Chun Li is planning to blow the entire place to smithereens and she left a fucking video message to let them know about it because that's smart. QUICK, CHANGE THE CHANNEL! says zangief. He is so dumb and we love him.

D: there goes the entire budget

B: They had to buy so many bootleg fireworks for that one scene, it must’ve cost them like 20 whole dollars. Well, 20 dollars in 1994 money, so that’s like $2 million in today's money.

D: I don't really know what Ryu and Ken even do in this movie

M: I don't think they really do anything.

B: This feels like the climax of the movie but we're only 40 minutes in.

D: This movie is a non stop climax. Meanwhile in space....we're gonna geolocate M. Bison with some bullshit tech.

M: Shouldn't be hard to find everyone, they're all in the SAME PLACE. Somehow Ken and Ryu are now M Bison's personal friends for turning in Chun Li and her friends. We don't to see how any of this happened.

D: Balrog and Honda are going to the sex dungeon while Bison goes to personally sexually harass Chun Li.

B: I can't parse if what you're saying is true

M: No it's all true.

B: Ken has to tell the audience who the good guys are

M: Guile is back at the base giving his men a speech about getting into Bison's secret hideout.

B: Their only option is ONE single boat to get into Bison's ancient ruin hideout, okay.

D: meanwhile E. Honda is getting a spanking and he is no selling it. He looks bored.

This is not a scene from a porno, I swear

M: Lots of experience getting lashes. Honda is gonna pull the chain right out of the wall because he's fucking swole. Zangief's accent isn't horrible, he's giving Ken and Ryu new oufits.

D: Ken's chest is covered because he's not actually buff. They're gonna just somehow communicate the two halfs of the map they saw? And here's Guile's speech which is so bad that his lips don't match because Van Damme was so out of it they had to overdub it

M: Guile tells a man he doesn't have balls and then he gets fired but it's fine because only Guile can fight Bison. The war is cancelled. No big.

D: He gives such an inspirational speech that everyone becomes war criminals and they're gonna go after Bison

M: I thought only one guy could get in there?

D: They're gonna follow him I guess. Guile gets in the bat boat mobile and he's gonna go kill Bison.

B: The real UN would've just been like - Please stop being a dictator or we're gonna write a stern letter.

M: Back in Bison's bedroom he's got Chun Li dressed like Chun Li and he's changed into his sex hat and sex robe and he's making an evil martini while Chun li exposits all over everyone about her tragic past.

B: In movies they have a thing called tell don't show, because why would you show something when you can just have someone tell us everything.

D: Back with Ken and Ryu and Honda and Balrog who have broken out but I guess they don't realize they're on the same side.

B: I do want Bison's giant bone chandelier. Hey do you wanna see my chandelier and my painting from John Wayne Gacy? ( that's really in there )

( No, really )

M: Chun Li is still fucking talking about how Bison murdered her dad and girl, he does not care. He's the bad guy. Bison knows women though and he's like, you are harmless. But that's what she wanted him to think!

D: she casually breaks her handcuffs and kicks Bison's ass by kicking him twice. Bison pretty good at fighting, actually.....OH NO THE GAS G-GAS GAS

M: What kind of gas? Who knows! Bison escapes in his uh...evil elevator?

D: Back in Guile's boatmobile, which is his because he has his name on it.

B: Can this movie just....pick a struggle...

M: Nope! and now for the needle drop with Guile's little home video of him and Charlie and then we're back with Blanka who looks like the Lou Ferrigno hulk

D: time for more evil with Blanka. But anyway Dhalsim is gonna give Blanka some nice asmr videos.

B: I love the way fake techy computer stuff looked in the 90's

D: they show him dolphins and weddings and babies and happy things. By the way, the entire Blanka storyline is completely irrelevant.

M: no it's true, nothing ever comes of it at all. I don't now why they put it in the movie. I don't know why they put most of this in the movie. Only Zangief.

D: Speaking of Zangief...he's here. Vega says his one line. I guess everyone got caught again. Oh they got gassed in the room. So now back with Guile they're gonna stealth mode, which changes literally nothing.

M: They just machine gun down all of Bison's sensors. Dj's accent tells us that something verrrrry strange is going on in the river, it's the invisible boatmobile!

D: Anti Guile alarm! Apparently they have an anti stealth mode. So now they're gonna get out M. Bison's big special boy floating platform with video game controls on it. Zangief looks around confused that Guile is alive.

M: all zangief does is look confused until the end. Bison is unsurprised Guile is alive and he's gonna kick everyone's ass whenever Guile and Cami and whoever else get there but apparently he's just gonna press buttons and use underwater mines.

D: Bison blows up the boat but somehow Guile and everyone get out. Insert coin to continue. meanwhile they realize Dhalsim has been beaming good vibes into Blanka's head and they accidentally release Blanka but he's full of good vibes now.

Yes, he does actually look this goofy.

B: They've just made a guy who's addicted to television.

D: Blanka in all his receding hairline glory is gonna save Dhalsim. the only thing he really does in the entire movie. So here's some Shadaloo guys getting beat up by Guile and T Hawk and Cami so they can finally infiltrate the secret aztec base.

M: Everyone is soooo stealthy. they just walk around and beat guys up. Good thing they have a sewer grate into the secret base. Guile and Co fall into a hole.

D: They're finally starting to look like their actual character counterparts. The movie is mostly over.

M: Bison's account has ZERO DOLLARS AND ZERO CENTS. Now he's gonna get mad. I wonder if he'd accept Bison Bucks instead of the 20 million.

Relatable.

D: Probably. OPEN THE HOSTAGE CHAMBER. Guile has broken into this place in 20 seconds, directly into the Blanka chamber.

M: Why do they just have an aquarium. And he finds Blanka and somehow immediately knows he's Charlie even though he doesn't look at all like Charlie. Blanka grunts a lot.

D: CharlieBlanka sad.

B: That was easy! Guile is just gonna shoot him, but Dhalsim stops him.

D: Bison is like why have I not been paid? Bro, you're asking 20 billion.

M: Who even are these hostages, are they worth 20 billion?

B: Who even fucking knows??? Raul Julia is CHEWING the scenery

M: I love it. he's giving 30000 percent.

B: What is the point of this blanka shit? Why is this even in the movie?

M: they're gonna send Guile instead of Blanka I guess, even though Guile isn't a super soldier.

B: I love Zangief, he just stands around looking so confused. I feel that.

D: Guile does a 20 foot leap and drop kicks Bison who orders people to shoot the hostages and now everything is happening so much

B: Everything has been happening so much since it started

D: Everyone gets more naked and the AN is here and E Honda and Zangief are gonna fight for 20 minutes.

M: I wish that was all that happened. Guile is now outside shooting people somehow and I don't now where Bison is.

D: Honda bodyslams Zangief through a secret passage. So Bison finds out Blanka was being programmed to be good and he punches out the screen and now the allied forces are here and Ken kinda almost does a shoryuken.

M: This fight lasts the rest of the movie. Bison is like, DJ and I willl face defeat together and DJ is like, yeah I'm out. Ken is kind of an asshole in this movie. Rye-u and ken get mad and Ryu goes back to save people even though he's not getting paid.

D: This movie is a non stop car accident. Blanka is destroying things while Dhalsim yells. The smoke machine broke and Guile is shooting people and nobody knows where Bison is, including us.

M: But he's not! He's gonna call Guile out and they're gonna fight in man to man combat!

D: Guile has the american flag tattoo! They're gonna street fight.

M: If his run in with Chun Li is any indicator, this should be easy. they show a video of Zangief and Honda destroying the model of Bisontopia with godzilla noises. I love this show. Bison and Guile are still fighting. Props to Raul Julia for fighting in that fucking outfit.

D: Balrog suddenly has his boxing skills back.

B: Where are the hostages?? In the hostage pit! Where do you think they are???

D: M. Bison has died.

B: He gets thrown into a control panel and dies.

D: No we haven't climaxed yet

B: ....but....fuck....whut...I think I've had an aneurysm.

D: Bison life support activated!

B: he has life alert!

D: His suit administers cpr, and now he's gonna use ELECTRICITY!

M: Meanwhile DJ is gonna grab a treasure chest that Bison has in his locker and get out. Ken is also looking for treasure but all he finds is a statue and a bad computer screen with icons but he does see Rye-u and yells at him. It's a trap!

D: Ryu gets ambushed by Sagat and Vega

B: I forgot they were in this movie

D: Bison is gonna fly.

B: Hold up *whispers* just for like...one second please.....WHAT. Why has the climax of this movie been happening for 80 minutes?

D: He's gonna fly. With superconductor electromagnetism. Yanno.

He’s playing the bass and I’m flyin’! (Editor’s note: how many times have I made this fucking joke?)

M: I love Raul Julia so fucking much though oh my god. I miss him. Oh yeah Ken and ryu are fighting and shit and people are losing their shirts.

D: He kinda did a Hadouken. Ryu is gonna burn Vega in the incinerator but only a mild burn

M: Ken and Ryu unsuprisingly win and now they're gonna go to Dizzkneeworld. Bison is just flying all over and shooting lightning at Guile but he's got BIG KICKS and he launches Bison into the screens and he explodes.

B: Oh shit the energy field is unstable!!! Oh shit!

M: Balrog punches open the hostage room. Zangief and Honda are STILL fighting but Honda is like welll I gotta run and Zangief is like DJ! Come fight with me! And DJ is like dude Bison is the fucking villian. Zangief is again confused. Bison is a bad guy???? You got....paid??? He is best boy.

D: Oh no the blast doors are gonna close! How are we gonna get out?? Oh it's ZANGIEF! Who somehow got outside and he's holding the door open and he's also much more naked. And now we're back with Dhalsim who is now bald and mostly naked and he's like nah I'll take CharlieBlanka out, we're fine.

B: WheaheIyeah???

D: And then the evil temple blows up and Cami and Chun Li kiss. Not really. All the Shadaloo henchmen are giving up

M: Zangief stands there proudly as a new good guy.

D: Sagat and DJ escape and now Sagat is shirtless but the treasure is actually BisonBucks

M: Everyone thinks Guile is dead but he's not and everyone is so happy to see him

B: He's been an asshole this whole time.

M: Everyone is good guys now!! And everyone is fine with that I guess. Chun Li and Guile have a little something something but it's kinda gross

D: Why is everyone horny for Chun Li?? Me at the entire Street Fighter Community.

B: Why is it still exploding?

M: The energy field

B: BUT WHY?? THIS WAS NEVER MENTIONED IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE UNTIL THE VERY END!! IT MAKES NO SENSE! ALL OF THE SUDDEN IT HAS A MELTDOWN??? WHAT THE FUCK IS THE ENERGY FIELD???

D: What happened to Blanka and Dhalsim? We'll never know

B: I don't know what happened, period. What the fuck is going on.

D: This is the most insane movie I've seen in my entire life. The breakneck pace does not stop, it starts at an 11 and goes up to a 14 real quick and stays there. Zangief is best boy,

B: w...what? I don't have anything else to say. What was any of that???? What? Why?

M: You're looking for meaning where there is none. It's beautiful chaos.

B: I will say one thing...there's NEVER a dull moment. Not a single one. You're not given a second to be bored.

D: How many stars would you give this movie?

B: Mayonnaise.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 24-25/2021) - Cow Quackity / S.U.S. Toll Company

After Quackity turns into a cow and Wilbur eats him on Bad’s chill stream, the two make a hit song together.

Later, George joins in and things become even more chaotic.

The next day, while working on “L’Wallburg” to compete with Bad’s apartment in the same area, Foolish has the idea to join forces with Bad instead of competing all the time. The two get together with Ponk to create their new tollbooth company: 

Super Umbrella Scheme

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

BadBoyHalo

-

Foolish

Captain Puffy

[Foolish’s second VOD was deleted]

---

---

JUNE 24

---

- Ponk, dressed up as Robin, notices Sam AFK by the bank. They try to get some Pillagers to attack Sam, but it doesn’t work

- Instead, Ponk pushes Sam into the spider spawner, then releases the spiders and watches Sam get eaten alive

- With Sam dead, Ponk puts his things in a chest and takes the Netherite set, leaving everything else. He goes to hide it

- Later, Ponk meets Foolish at the Community House as Robin and Batman. They go down into the basement to discuss. They may need new identities. Their crime-fighting days are over

- Ponk tells him that they are going to be Sherlock Holmes and Watson. That’s the extent of the report, so the two of them part ways

- Back at the valley, Ponk puts up a giant Foolsamponk picture and a photo of a rice cooker

- Bad and Wilbur log on. Bad notices a new structure built where the L’Sandburg tollgate used to be and wonders who’s behind it. Bad has been building up L’Sandburg’s walls in the meantime

- As Bad searches around for Wilbur in Las Nevadas, Quackity joins VC and gets a cow as a stand-in. Bad spots Wilbur nearby

- Bad tells Wilbur that the cow is Quackity and puts a leash on him, explaining that a witch turned him into one similar to how George was turned into a pig

- Wilbur asks where he can find food around here, and Bad tells him he can kill the cows in the pen. Bad tries to explain to Quackity how he is a cow. Wilbur asks Bad to tell Quackity that Wilbur wants to eat him

- Wilbur sets Quackity on fire, but Bad puts him out with water. Wilbur says Quackity looks tasty. Bad throws him bread and steak, but Wilbur refuses

Wilbur: not as succulent as him

- Bad leads Quackity over to the Eiffel Tower away from Wilbur. Wilbur opens Bad’s stream to find them

- Wilbur joins VC and Quackity asks if it’s true that Wilbur wants to eat him. They start discussing lactose intolerance

- Wilbur sets off TNT, then lights cow Quackity on fire. Bad is unable to save him and the Quackity cow drops a piece of steak. Wilbur asks for the meat 

- Meanwhile, Quackity as a human has come over to Las Nevadas. They set off more TNT

- Wilbur holds a piece of steak and munches on it, telling Quackity that it’s his meat. Quackity asks how he tastes and Wilbur begins describing it in great detail

- Quackity asks him to describe the texture and Wilbur does, again, in great detail. (I'm not going to transcribe this)

- Wilbur then walks over to DogChamp, saying he would kill the dog for another bite. They quickly stop him. Wilbur tells Bad to get him more Quackity meat. He then turns to Quackity and tells him to turn into a cow so that Wilbur can cook him up and eat his meat

- Quackity goes over to the cow pen to be with the other cows so that he can become one and starts mooing

- Wilbur kills another cow. Quackity has taken off his clothes and continues mooing

- Wilbur takes the initiative to end the bit

- They swim over to Eret’s pyramid with Wilbur repeating everything Quackity says in an American accent. They discuss what animal Wilbur would be. Perhaps a sheep. Bad finds a cod in the ocean and decides on that

- They go up to Ponk’s base and look at the photos. They notice that Sam is crossed out in one of them but don’t know why

Quackity: “Do you wanna have sex in this room?”

- Bad goes to tell him “language” and Quackity scolds him for walking in on them. Wilbur considers it, then mines the floor out from under Quackity, who falls to his death

Quackity: “Is that a yes?”

Wilbur: “I like a man who can take kinetic energy.”

- Bad gets a crossbow. Quackity has an announcement: the wine stream is still happening!

- Quackity gets back to the pyramid and falls to his death again. While they retrieve his items, they chat about fan interactions

- Quackity wants to adopt the dog that played Beethoven in the Beethoven movie and Wilbur breaks the news to him that the dog is probably dead. Quackity doesn’t want Tom Arnold on a leash, and they find out that during the filming the filmmakers apparently used a “mechanical dog-dog suit”

- Wilbur explores the Beethoven fandom Wiki

- They talk about music they’ve been working on. Bad says if Quackity keeps swearing, he will “break out the hammer”

- Quackity shows his recent project. Wilbur says it’s “bloody-muffin-fucking great”

- Wilbur and Quackity work on the song together. The sound is...beyond words

- When they are finished, Quackity says that he thinks Wilbur is giving him too much credit, and he should instead be on the feature list. He wants Wilbur to have this song

- Wilbur declines, saying he would be honored if Quackity didn’t put Wilbur’s name on the song

- Quackity thinks Wilbur should feature it as a Lovejoy song. Wilbur has joined a new band to release the song called “Placeholder,” after which he will immediately disband the band

- Quackity tells him that the song is Wilbur’s baby and he really wants Wilbur to have it. Wilbur tells Quackity that he loves him and that Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he would die for Wilbur, and that Wilbur should have the song

- Wilbur says he will name his firstborn "Quackity,” and he thinks Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he will name all his future family members “Wilbur Soot” (pronounced ‘suit’)

- Wilbur then says he will kill endangered animals for Quackity

Bad: “That’s not something you should do!”

Wilbur: “I will do it for love.”

- Bad asks if he can have the song. Quackity doesn’t say his next bit aloud

- Wilbur understands that Quackity would do that, but he would physically drown for Quackity to have the song

- Quackity says that he will get an astrophysics license, fly a rocket into the moon to get in a national story so that when they find the notepad on his phone, Quackity’s one will would be for Wilbur to have the song and release it under his name without any credit to Quackity

- Wilbur understands this, but says that he would invent a Doomsday device the likes of which the world has never seen and will never see again with which he would hold the world hostage with one message: to tell the world that this song is written solely by Quackity

Wilbur: “That’s what I’d do for you.”

Quackity: “...Okay!”

Wilbur: “Cool, alright, now we’re settled. Hey, Bad, how’re you doing man.”

Bad: “Hi! I’m so perplexed.”

Wilbur: “I’ve got a Doomsday device to make.”

- Bad befriends a pig and names it George. He leads the pig and the red sheep away from Las Nevadas. They continue chatting for a while at the Punzo Chunk

- Later on, George, “master of lore,” joins in 

- Bad shows them the heads he got from DreamXD and offers to trade Karl’s to get Ant’s, Sam’s and Puffy’s from Foolish. Wilbur asks how one gets heads, and Bad tells the story of DreamXD logging on

- Bad gives George his own head and George logs off. Bad offers Karl’s head and George returns, so Bad kills him and gets his head back. George drops a stack of nametags, a stack of TNT and a stack of levers

- Bad repeatedly murders George and sees a squid that flies

- George chases after Quackity trying to kill him with a bone. Quackity runs, setting everything on fire behind him. Bad follows and tries to put everything out. George eventually kills Quackity, then Bad kills George

- Bad accuses George of abusing his op powers to get Netherite armor as George chases him down

- Wilbur sings the Drake and Josh theme song in an American accent while George attempts to murder Bad in a pit

- George accuses Bad of turning the server off, but Bad says it’s a scheduled restart

- George kicks them from the server and un-whitelists them both

- Quackity gets back on and slays George

- The three of them continue to spar some more for fun

---

JUNE 25

---

- While Foolish works on building a room by the Punzo Chunk to compete with Bad’s, Bad logs on and drops by

- Bad tells him he’s building in Bad’s apartment. Foolish tells him he’s just making L’Wallburg

- Bad says he will charge Foolish rent to live here, but Foolish declines

- They argue back and forth about whose place it is as they work on the walls

- Foolish has the idea to join forces

Foolish: Bad what if we are landlords together

Bad: o_o

Foolish: we have been fighting for afar too long

Foolish: What if we put are talkents togerth

Bad: o_o

- Bad says he’s charging rent. Foolish asks what if he charges Bad rent. They argue about charging rent on each other

- Bad charges Foolish 850 diamonds. Foolish tells him that Bad has been on his property for five minutes, which means he must pay 9,000 diamonds

- Again, Foolish suggests they instead work together. Bad brings up the idea of taking over a central location like the community Nether portal that they can charge people for. Foolish likes the idea

- They work on the apartment some more and start bickering over who’s caused more problems in their rivalry. Foolish attempts to explain it metaphorically

Foolish: “There was once a shiny rock, okay? And this shiny rock was just trying to go to the ocean and have a good time and lay there in peace. But then, this crusty old seaweed came along to the seashore and just got up all in the shiny rock’s business. And then the shiny rock became a little more dull with the weight of death looming, Bad.”

- Bad takes offense to this and also claims that he made Foolish’s build much better by adding a tollgate to it

- They negotiate percentages of the profits and head off to the Nether portal. Foolish asks if Bad has a suit. Bad replies that not only does he look very dashing already, but the last time he wore a suit, he tried to kill a lot of people

- Foolish suggests they call it the Ratgate. They wall off the portal

- While visiting the summer home, Foolish finds out about the new building on the path. The two suspect a third party may be at play

- Foolish tells Bad about how they have a tollgate set up in Las Nevadas. Bad is offended that Foolish made him take down his tollgate but set one up elsewhere. They start arguing again over who had rightful claim to the path

- They admire their work on the new tollbooth. If people don’t pay the toll, they die

- They rehearse it. Foolish switches personas and becomes a L’manburg Llama who asks Bad where L’manburg is -- he heard they needed his help a few months ago

- Foolish critiques Bad’s performance, as Bad didn’t ask for the toll. Bad said he still got something out of it -- a nice compliment

- They rehearse it a second time, this time with Foolish as Palpatine. It ends with Bad attempting to kill him

- As they discuss how the second rehearsal went, Ponk logs on and walks through the portal while they’re distracted

- They go through after him to seek him down. If they let him get away, they would be the laughing stock of the tolling community. Foolish wonders if they’re dealing with Ponk or Robin

- They find her at the summer home. Ponk runs into his shack and they knock on the door

- Ponk comes out of the shack and they tell him that they’re vacuum salesmen. Once inside the shack, they confront him about the toll

- Ponk doesn’t buy their claims and they go back to the tollbooth. They tell them to pay with compliments

- Ponk retrieves a book from his Ender Chest and goes up one of the tollbooth towers to place a piece of TNT. He tells them that he has claimed the tower

- Ponk starts running, placing TNT all over while the two chase after to attack

- After “the Battle of the Nether Portal” subsides, Ponk gives them the compliments

Ponk: “Bad, is your nickname ‘Google?’ Because you’re all I’m searching for.”

...

Ponk: “Did you get your suit at Dollar General, Foolish?”

- Because Foolish takes some offense to this, Ponk throws him some Netherite ingots. Bad wants that compliment

- Ponk and Bad go up into Ponk’s tower to whisper amongst themselves. Ponk is going to record this and use it as part of the lore suit against Bad. Bad already has ten lawyers

- They go back down and Ponk tells Foolish that Bad said the toll doesn’t have to be paid. Bad is confused, and Foolish pulls Bad aside for a meeting behind a wall of TNT to whisper amongst themselves

- Foolish points out that they could use a third person for the tolling business, and Ponk’s the most trustworthy person Foolish knows

- They go back to Ponk with the business proposal. Foolish says if Ponk makes enough money, they’ll give Ponk a Supreme car at the end of the year

- Ponk becomes sad at this, because Bad destroyed the Supreme Fridge and that’s why Ponk is suing him and Puffy

- Bad says that Foolish allowed them to demolish it. Foolish quickly denies this, but Bad claims he has a written document signed by Foolish. Upset, Ponk asks if this is true. Bad says Puffy has it

- Ponk isn’t sure who to believe anymore

- After they spot Bad lurking beneath the rainbow, they hold him at knifepoint asking for his pot of gold

- Foolish suggests the three of them forget everything that’s happened and just run their tollbooth together. Ponk proposes they tear down Bad’s house instead

- As they explain a potential plot to toll everyone further, though, Ponk starts to come around to the idea. Foolish wonders if they should toll the prison. Bad says they should toll everything

- The next place they decide to toll is the Community House, and they start setting up gateways there. Foolish asks Bad who he would hypothetically be in an alternate Batman universe. Bad would be Alfred

- They decide on a name for their tollbooth company: 

“Super Umbrella Scheme,” or S.U.S. 

- They do another rehearsal at the Community House gate. It goes very well

- They go to the spider spawner. Bad has to leave, and Ponk speaks with Foolish one-on-one, leading him down the tunnel to the Eggpire cloak room to search through the chests. Foolish hesitantly peeks around the corner into the Egg Room...

- Ponk tells him they’ve got their next disguises as Watson and Holmes. Sam has mentioned that he’s missing a sword and wants to hire them to find it

- With that said, they say their goodbyes and leave

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[seven-oomen]

Every road leads to you chapter 1 | Sambucky a/b/o mpreg

Note: obvious tags for this are a/b/o and eventual mpreg. Alpha Sam, Omega Bucky, Bucky deal with CPTSD, missing scenes, canon compliant, canon continuation, frenemies to friends to lovers, roommates, only one bed. Probably a few more tropes. tbh I wrote this chapter in like a day, posting it here first because I wanna finish the whole fic before posting it to Ao3 but hoping to get some feedback for it here. So I hope you like it. Let me know if you do.

-

“Stop the car!”

Goddamn Walker and his goddamn fucking mouth. He couldn’t believe this shit. Battlestar. More like throwing away everything Steve had ever stood for. These two, Walker and Hoskins, they weren’t fit to defend the mantle of Captain America. They were soldiers, not good men. He hated their freaking guts for that.

Sam should have never given up that shield.

He stalked further down the road, past the bus stop and onto a smaller road that wound back to town without looking back.

“It’s always that last line.” Sam said after a short back and forth with Walker and not long after Sam’s footsteps trailed after him.

“Buck, wait up!”

He kept walking, trying to contain the anger boiling under his skin. Pulsing and creeping up, threatening to overload his nervous system at the slightest touch. He took a deep breath instead and released it slowly. Trying to calm the waving energy inside of him.

Just keep breathing. Everything is going to be okay.

Sam fell into step beside him, his eyes practically burning holes into the side of his face. Though he paid it no mind.

“You’re not going to talk to me, are you?”

He glared at Sam but slowed down his pace just a little to allow the Alpha to keep up with him. As much as he usually enjoyed bantering with the other man, right now everything was just too much. And even Sam’s words echoed in his head and threatened to overload his entire system.

Sam, thankfully, understood.

“Alright. Let’s find a phone. Call Torres.”

He looked at Sam for a moment. The Alpha didn’t judge him for his mood, simply understood what he needed and left it at that. Honestly, it was nice for a change. He sighed, fishing his still working cellphone out of his pocket and handed it to Sam.

“Here.”

Clearly, Sam hadn’t expected that. But the smile Sam gave him created a pleasant warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and eased the pulsing energy through his body just a little. In a way, it was soothing to see him smile.

“Thanks Buck.”

“You’re welcome.”

Two short phone calls later they were on their way to the airport in a cab, their knees touching and only the sound of Taylor Swift singing over the radio surrounding them. Even the driver was quiet.

He still noted the driver’s glances between the two of them but didn’t comment on it since the chubby man didn’t either. He figured the man had bigger problems in his life than having an unmated Alpha and Omega sitting in the back of his cab. Having the kind of walrus mustache the man sported, had to be one of them.

Sam kept sneaking glances between him and the driver, his lips curled up in an amused smile. Almost as if he knew the kind of things he was thinking. It was a little weird, a little endearing, mostly just annoying. He raised an eyebrow at the behavior and leaned back with a smirk when Sam just glared at him and crossed his arms.

Damn right.

Though a small part of him winced at the way his gut twisted at Sam’s reaction. When was the last time he’d taken his suppressants? A quick silent count said he’d taken all of them. So that couldn’t be why he was having a reaction. What else could it be though?

Torres welcomed them at the airport, thankfully Walker or Hoskins were nowhere to be seen. A small miracle all things considered, but a very welcome one.

“Plane’s fueled and ready to go when you are.”

“Then let’s take off, I’ve had enough of Germany for now.” Sam said.

He followed, trailing after Sam into the cargo hold of the plane where they would undoubtedly spend the next few hours just staring ahead. And maybe even getting some sleep if they were lucky enough.

It took a few hours for them to get bored enough. He certainly didn’t know what to do with himself and Sam was on the verge of a mental breakdown judging the by the way he was glaring at him. Then again, if Sam had been mindlessly pacing up and down the cargo hold he’d probably be in the same state.

“Would you please just sit down?”

His fingers twitched at those words yet he did stop. Hands clenching and unclenching in an effort to get rid of some of his excess energy.

“I can’t. I’m restless.” He was. It felt like a dozen fire ants were crawling up and down his spine and the only way to alleviate that feeling was by pacing around the plane.

“I can see that, but you’re making me restless. Come on.” Sam beckoned him closer.

It was… tempting to sit down beside him and allow Sam to calm him. He couldn’t do that though. Couldn’t let anyone get that close. He didn’t know if Sam knew what he was, they didn’t talk much about that stuff. And a part of him never wanted Sam to find out either. He didn’t want to lose this edge of whatever it was that was between them. In a way it was comforting to know that someone didn’t take his bullshit, that someone still called him out on his stupid ideas.

He sat down on the floor opposite Sam, his back propped up against some crates and the tips of his toes not quite touching Sam’s.

Sam merely stared at him for a moment, then leaned forward and offered him his hands. “Gimme your hands.”

“No.” His first reaction was to lean back further and glare. Sneering at the hands he was offered.

Though Sam didn’t budge or get angry at his behavior and stayed calm. Within minutes his shoulders relaxed just a little and he laid his hands in Sam’s with a soft grumble.

“Fine.”

“Good, now breathe.” Sam said, taking a deep breath in. “In, hold it-” He paused for a few seconds, then released his breath “-and out slowly. Repeat.”

“You’re playing therapist now are you?” He appreciated Sam’s help, truly, he did. But there was always a part of him that just wanted to rile Sam up. Just to see if he could.

“No, I just want some goddamn peace and quiet without you pacing a hole through the floor and this is probably the best way to get that.” Sam bit back, the corners of his lips curling up.

It did something to him. A warmth that pooled in his stomach and slowly traveled to his heart and eased the little aches, pains, and pulses of his body. God he could drown in those dark eyes all night.

He blinked rapidly at that thought, only then realizing that his breathing had synched up with Sam’s and they were calmly breathing in and out together. How had that happened? Even his own therapist hadn’t been that effective in getting him to calm down.

He hadn’t even noticed he had exposed the dog tags around his neck for Sam to see. His full name and designation clearly stamped and visible.

James B. Barnes O

32557038 T41 42 O

R.Barnes

3092 Stoorton RD

Shelbyville IN P

Sam didn’t seem to care either way. “Better?”

He nodded, quickly pulling his hands away from Sam’s when Sam’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand. “Yeah…”

“Good. Let me know if you feel restless, we’ll do it again.” Sam leaned back and closed his eyes, his breathing slowly evening out.

He honestly didn’t understand it. Sam had had every opportunity to absolutely obliterate him and yet he hadn’t. Anything vulnerable he showed him, any kind of weakness he had, for once it wasn’t used against him. Sam treated him like a person. He never really noticed that before, or it hadn’t registered this clearly. It was too easy to forget when he was around Sam, too easy to just fall in beside him and joke and snap along. It scared him just a little.

It also gave him hope.

Maybe that’s why he brought Sam to Baltimore.

He should have known things would go south real quickly.

“How come nobody ever told me about him?” Sam’s voice was full of fire and emotion and yet it cut him cold across the chest. He wasn’t sure if he deserved that reaction, but he understood it in a way.

“Steve didn’t know and I didn’t-” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing “-I didn’t tell anybody because he’d already been through enough.”

The sharp sound of sirens pulled him out of his thoughts and brought an entirely new problem with it. Before he knew it, he was the one escorted into a police car with his hands cuffed. He missed his court mandated therapy. Wasn’t that a fucking joke?

He spared one glance at Sam just as the car pulled away from the scene and immediately wished he hadn’t. The look Sam gave him hurt more than any punch ever had and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. He didn’t owe Sam anything. And yet it felt like he just lost his entire world.

“I’m sure everything will be sorted quickly, Mr. Barnes.” One of the cops, the shorter one, said. He was quite a bit more nervous now than he had been when he thought Sam had been an aggressor, possibly because he feared repercussions from profiling an Avenger. Good. Maybe it would make him think twice about pulling shit like that, though a part of him very much doubted it.

He simply glanced at them in the rear view mirror, feeling an almost sick sense of satisfaction as that unnerved both of the cops further. He didn’t say anything to them despite their attempts at making small talk with him.

What was the fucking point anyway?

He didn’t expect Sam to come get him at the station. Seeing him there felt like a slap to the face. Not because Sam had done anything wrong, no he’d done everything right. And that’s exactly what hurt so much.

The doc seemed hell bent on getting him to open up about his problems. And as much as he didn’t really want to he found himself opening up anyway.

“Well in my miracle, he would talk less.” He said, glaring at Sam as he said it. And maybe that was a bit harsh, but Sam took it like a champ and threw it right back at him. God how he wanted to shut him up in that moment. Though in what way he wasn’t quite sure. In the last day his emotions had been all over the place.

He wanted to hate Sam, but he couldn’t. Something deep inside him just couldn’t hate him for any of this. Not when he himself had done so much worse.

The doc didn’t seem that pleased with them. Honestly, she should have known better. “You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul gazing exercise.”

Now that, he actually liked. “I like this one a lot better.”

“Oh god he’s gonna love this.” Sam said.

“Oh yeah, I’m ready.”

They scooted close, legs intertwining as they sat opposite one another. Once again he was staring into deep brown eyes except this time Sam’s warmth also seeped into him. In a way it was like touching spring for the first time since a cold winter. Warm and pleasant with just enough breeze to keep you alert and in the moment. It was both heaven and earth on hell and he wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

Because punching Sam wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t give him closure. It wouldn’t bring Steve back. Steve, who had walked out on him and left him in a time he barely knew just to get his own happy ending. Yeah maybe that had left him a little bitter and a little broken.

“Why’d you give up the shield?”

He poured his heart into his words and bared his soul wide open and it didn’t seem to matter to Sam. So maybe Steve had been wrong about him. About both of them. Maybe he didn’t deserve redemption or compassion. Maybe he didn’t deserve a second chance. And maybe he didn’t deserve Sam’s kindness or compassion either. Maybe he was just broken.

“See you outside, Buck.”

Maybe he was just too broken to function after all.

“Thanks doc.” He followed after Sam, quiet and brooding on the outside but his mind was screaming and crying in agony.

Worthless. He was just so fucking worthless.

He shouldn’t care this much.

He didn’t deserve to care this much.

Maybe that’s why he suggested to go the HYDRA route and find Zemo, or maybe it was a form of self sabotage. Who knew? All he knew, was that this was his last chance to do something right for this world. No matter what it would cost him.

[annabethy]

Percy Jackson Characters as Band Kids 2.0

based on experiences i WISH i didn’t have. i’ve been proposed to at a game by the opposing piccolo. in honor of my 20k word marching band au being posted tomorrow!

Percy

• looks unfairly hot in the marching uniform.

• would definitely be drum major and have all of the band falling in love over him.

• he would also be in the auditorium before a concert and jump off of a 10 foot ledge in the pit because he simply cannot take being in band anymore™️.

• would get up on the drum major podium and start dancing to stand tunes from the other band.

• gives high fives to all of the band right before the half-time show

• carries annabeth like a backpack during third quarter break

• him and annabeth go to meet the other drum majors in the band and are that fierce couple that every band is afraid of

• slut for big ballin

• is nearly murdered when a cheerleader does a backflip into his podium

• before halftime, “What time is it?” “HALFTIME” “What time is it?” “GAME TIME” “half time is game time Half Time Is Game Time HALF TIME IS GAME TIME”

Annabeth

• is the kid that is deadly good at their instrument and will murder you with a single look.

• you do not want to audition for the state band after her because she will tear you to shreds.

• she also happens to be dating the drum major, of course, and has the drum major wrapped around her finger.

• she is terrifying, and also happens to be the other drum major so the little kids have to ask her for help but are scared because she is very scary.

• plays piccolo and goes around telling people to “suck my picc”

• will yell at colorguard when they put a rifle on the wrong yard line during a show while every single woodwind is marching in a backwards curve.

• hates seven nation army with a passion

• flute chant. “flutes and piccs are h-o-t hot, we got something you ain’t got, we’re bad, we know it, we’re here to show it” cue screaming

• piccolo chant aka PICCS PICCS PICCS PICCS *INSTENSE SCREAMING*

Piper

• is that kid the hot bi. crushing on Annabeth and blatantly tries to steal her from Percy. but she’s just kidding (not really).

• she is the person that proposes to a kid that plays the same instrument from the other band.

• probably plays piccolo because Annabeth does.

• when it’s marching season, she will watch a woodwind step out of line and take down an entire row of clarinets and not move a single muscle. they all learn somehow.

• screams the words to sweet Caroline instead of playing

• “my name is piper. i play the picc. it’s really tiny. just like your di—

Jason

• is the band kid who thinks they are the best at their instrument

• they are actually the worst at their instrument

• probably a trumpet

• doesn’t get into all county and is like “but I’m so good it’s rigged” but he actually couldn’t even play his scales double octave oop couldn’t be me

• gets hit by the guard flags during a show and gets a concussion

• crushes on piper who tells him “i only date people good at their instruments.” he goes home and cries before reporting her to the band director for harassment

• fucks up solo at mpa. idk who gave him a solo to begin with

Leo

• first and foremost, he is percussion. during concert season, he tries to muffle the gong so he uses his whole body to do so. he succeeds in humping the gong.

• cadences over and over. and over.

• throws a drum stick at annabeth and bonks her on the head

• percy does not like that and takes the drum stick and hurls it at leo. hits him in the eye

• elf hats during the christmas parade

• DRUM BATTLES

• empties a water bottle at a game by crushing the plastic. chokes as he deepthroats the water

• “Annabeth you are so out of tune you’re making me want to stab my eardrums,” and in response, she says, “I’m going to play a high c right in your ear and teach you what decent fucking music sounds like”

Frank

• the one decent kid who apologizes when they run into someone

• helps the freshmen because no one else will

• refuses to participate in senior pranks

• once tries to help a brass player take a valve out but drops the instrument and dents it and starts crying

• brass captain

• he actually tries to save the line of woodwinds when colorguard misplaces a rifle during that backwards curve

• steps in the pile of fire ants. chaos ensues

Hazel

• sweetheart but lost.

• struggles with marching on beat but once she gets the hang of it, she has so much patience for helping others

• something tame, like the clarinet.

• never squeaks because she is an ICON

• people think she is nice and will sometimes tease her and she’s too nice to do anything but then when someone decides to take her reeds, she full on throws a stand at them.

• speaking of stands, she gets abnormally frustrated when they start to fall in front of her face. slowly slipping. creak. creak. creak.

• always very helpful at the football games. cares for people that pass out of heat stroke. always has a cooling towel just in case

• makes snide remarks to the cheerleaders when they can’t dance in time to crazy train (“it’s not that hard it’s literally 4/4”)(“I thought cheerleaders could at least count to 4?”)

• director thinks she is an angel but actually has no idea she’s constantly on her phone during rehearsal.

• “im using it as a tuner”

Connor

• HEY BABY. will point to Annabeth for “I wanna knowwwww if you’ll be my girl” to spite Percy

• laughs bc Percy is conducting and there is simply nothing he can do about it

• “what you gonna do Percy? Cut the band off because you’re jealous? do it I dare you”

• crazy trumpet that runs through the stands and promptly trips and tumbles down the bleachers until he hits the bottom. may kill one or two flutes in the process

• speaking of flutes, he enjoys sacrificing them. particularly annabeth. picks her up over his shoulder and dumps her in a trashcan

• gets on the metal podium during band camp and passes out off of it. a quick and painful journey the 6 feet to the ground.

Travis

• to Piper: “One time at band camp, I stuck a flute up my—”

• evil laughter when Annabeth narrowly dodges a guard saber

• he’s the leader of the senior pranks, offering those poor freshman cupcakes with ketchup and mustard frosting

• he also sets up the pentagram with the band directors family photos, and ties percy and annabeth dolls to drum major podiums. don’t ask.

• he definitely spills coffee on the band room carpet at least once,

• likes to surprise percy and annabeth when they sneak off during sectionals to “practice conducting” (he quickly proves they were, in fact, not practicing conducting)

Grover

• trips in the whole and screams about “WHY ARE THERE HOLES IN OUR MARCHING FIELD SOMEONE IS GOING TO DIE”

• chews on a metal can at a game and cuts his mouth open but is too scared to say anything as he bleeds from the mouth because he wasn’t supposed to have a soda can to begin with so he just plays with blood!

• ceo of “MAKE MONEY MONEY MAKE MONEY MONEY MONEY” “MARCHING BAND MARCHING BAND MARCHING BAND MARCHING BAND”

• gets HEATED at mpa because “WE CANNOT BE THE CLASS TO DESTROY OUR TEN YEAR STREAK OF STRAIGHT SUPERIORS”

• hangs with percy and annabeth, arms around each of them during the football games. loves them dearly.

• has a knack for interrupting percy and annabeth at the worst possible times. they’re in the uniform room? SURPRISE SHAWTY he’s there too “what are you doing? why is annabeth’s hair a mess? didn’t you just do those braids?”

[honeyitallreadydid]

I want Dream and Techno to place all the TNT above L’Manburg and laugh at all those fighting underneath, as there is no way they could lose

I want Tommy to realise this, and look around him. At the friends and family who’ve betrayed him, ridiculed him. At Tubbo, the boy who loved bee’s and laughed with him and Wilbur. At the boy battle weary and broken, angry and vicious, both cruel and weak willed. And he won’t recognise him. He isn’t Tommy’s Tubbo. And this isn’t Tommy’s L’Manburg

Dream will give a speech, ranting about everything he’s done, how foolish they all were, how weak tommy has been. Technoblade is silent,crouched away on top of the walls, staring at Tommy, his expression unreadable.

This isn’t L’Manburg. Not anymore. For starters, Wilburs gone. He was a murderous, inanse, unpredictable son of a bitch, who’s both cold and wild nature made him a caricature of a villain. But he wasn’t. He was funny and loud and teasing and Dream fucking broke him. Broke him with his demands, broke him with his laughter, his taunts. If dream had stayed away, maybe Wilbur would still be here.

My L’Manburg he said. My. It was his, his and Tommy’s. It was never Tubbo’s, never Fundy’s, and sure as shit not dreams. They never laughed in the caravan, never hid away in the ravine. The sharp stab of Erets betrayal was nothing but a sting to the others.

Tommy looked at Dreams frustratingly calm face, his smile just visible under the mask. Victorious, cruel, mocking. He aimed his bow at Dreams neck.

“You think you can kill me Tommy? Really? You can’t even follow sime instructions. Stay away from L’Manburg. Don’t go in the nether. Don’t go against me. Tubbo agrees with me. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, couldn’t stop Wilbur, couldn’t keep me away. You aren’t shit”

Tommy paused, hesitating, rethinking. Was his impulsiveness the reasoning for all the wars? Was it his own insolence, his own betrayals that broke his old home?

Yes. He knew the answer. He knew what he had to do.

He looked at the TNT, overshadowing the city, obscuring the sun. He thought of the hundreds of wither skulls at technoblade disposal. He thought of the crater, the explosion, the terror that had already once before encapsulated the nation.

“If I can’t have L‘Marburg, then no one can” Tommy muttered, but Dreams gloating and the pleads from Niki and Tubbo let his declarartion go unheard.

He focused back on Dreams broken mask,his once Sandy hair turned deep and matted from when he pulled at it with his blood stained gloves.

Technoblade stands tall, no longer crouching. He looks prepared to fight, but there is weariness in the way he unslings his crossbow, fatigue weighing down on the cracked crown upon his head. Where did he get it? Was it stolen from a vanquished foe, or perhaps commissioned from a blacksmith. Was it a point of pride, a spoil of war? Or just an accessory, with no more meaning than a bracelet or necklace. Tommy would never find out.

He looked away from Technoblades intimidating form, and back at the TNT. Slowly, as if not to draw attention, he notched in a flame arrow and aimed towards the center of the canopy of dynamite.

He cast his eyes at the shield Dream had worn. It was a gift of good faith from Technoblade, it was in the style of the Aegis. The branded face of Medusa had quickly caught Technoblade eye when they were younger, and Tommy remembered seeing a 14 year old Technoblade(who was in the height of his mythology obsession) having to beg and plead Phil for the shield. The distorted reflection revealed Ranboo, standing at the back of their group, staring back at Tommy. Ranboo had seen the red embers that encase the arrow’s tip, he had seen where it was aimed. He knew the destruction and death that would follow. He had seen Tommy’s mind, his intention.

Black eyes met blue, and in a moment of silent resolution they both understood. L’Manburg was once there home, but without Wilbur, it was no more than a bargaining chip. Something to hurt others with. L’Manburg was just like the discs in that respect. And you can’t have freedom with a collar around your neck.

Tommy let the arrow fly, and all hell broke loose.

Hellfire reigned down upon the houses, the wood alight and the stone blast open. The explosives ricocheted in every direction, several breaking through the walls, and a few going over.

Dream, who had been standing underneath the explosives, was immediately trapped as fire and sound broke the ground around him, immediately submerging him in the rubble below, the floor collapsing so fast that Tommy wasn’t sure if a sinkhole had spontaneously erupted. But no. It was him. Good

I hope your fucking dead

He saw Fundy and Quackity fall through the gaps in the paths, the water catching theyre fall but not healing them from the wounds that covered there torso and faces.

Ranboo had teleported at the first assailant, and had taken Tubbo and Niki with him. Thank fuck tommy thought, relieved. Throughout all Tommy’s anger, his rage, his betrayal, he still couldn’t stomach the idea of them being hurt. There clothes were scortched and Nicki’s hair was mostly seared off, but they looked to be mostly okay.

As the final blasts went off, and the fire truly began catching, he looked down into the abyss he had created. Iron and other metals had emerged from the blast, and a slow stream of lava was visible, lighting up the bottom of the pit.

Dreams crumpled form was just barely visible, but what Tommy could see didn’t look good. His armour had somehow fused into him. What remained of the netherite was connected to his chest, the skin around it blood soaked and damaged beyond repair.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Dream groaned. No Tommy thought, No no no no no

Please just fucking die. It wasn’t mean to be like this. It was never meant to be-

Technoblade elegantly climbed down from the wall in which he stood,observing that battle like one would watch an ant farm. Amused, intrigued. Maybe a little proud at the ingenuity, but otherwise removed.

Then, unsheathing the Axe Of Peace from his belt, he threw it like a tomahawk and buried it in Dreams neck.

Silence.

Time had frozen as everybody gathered around the pit with morbid fascination as they all watched Dreams death, as his neck was cut with blood spewing out of him, thick and hot, staining his face and trademark green hoodie a deep rich brown.

How do you move on from this? What was there to do?

“I-uh, well, I...” Quackity stuttered, unsure of what to say

“L’Manburg is gone.” Tommy stated, his voice loud and authoritarian. “L’Manburgs been mutilated beyond repair, by me, by Wilbur, by Technoblade, by all of us. Use the land for whatever you want, but your not going to rebuild. Not now, not ever. Cover it up, make it a monument, I honestly couldn’t care less. But let L’manburg burn.”

Tommy looks down into the crater and on a ledge not too far from the top, he sees them. His discs. One has a crack down the side, rendering it unplayable, and the other surely is scratched beyond repair. He climbs down into the gaping hole, ignoring Dreams charred remains. He picks them up, softly caressing the indentations, and fondly remembering the times he and Tubbo had listened to them on the bench, gazing at the warm setting sun.

He throws them down, down into the rubble, down past the crumbling houses, and into the lava from the exposed cave system below.

He watches them burn, takes a moment to calm himself, then climbs out.

He ignores the gobsmacked faces that stare at him, eyes wide, jaws slacked. He nods at Tubbo with a tight lipped smile and move on, walking determinedly to Technoblade.

“L’Manburg was fucked the minute it became independent. The war, the exiles, the executions, it was all so pointless. So fucking pointless. Cause everybody’s now dead, and nothing has been won. There are no good guys here Technoblade. No battle, no hero’s, no moral to the fucking story. It was pointless violence fuelled by greed and corruption.”

“I knew you’d agree with me in the end” Techno’s monotone voice betraying him as you could hear the start of a smile behind his helmet.

“I don’t agree with you. You’re destructive and unreasonable and I can’t trust you anymore.”

Tommy walks closer to Technoblade, and with a start Technoblade realises that this isn’t his brother, not now. Tommy isn’t playing hero. He isnt the soldier who had fought in multiple wars. Not the boy who no matter how high the stakes were, no matter how powerful the competition, the boy who would always fight for what is right.

That boy had died. He’d been dying for a while now. Since burning the discs, abandoning technoblade, spending weeks alone with only Dreams honeyed lies filling his ears like wax, unable to hear anything other than what Dream wanted him to hear. Maybe it was Wilburs death, or even before, the moment they were exiled the first time.

Whatever the case, Tommy was gone, and had been replaced by an empty shell of who he was. His eyes were so dark they were almost grey, his hair damaged and his face gaunt. There was no twitch of a smile on his lips, no glint of trouble in his eyes. There was only a poorly concealed grimace of both anger and pain.

He leaned in his mouth tight and his words short. Technoblade clenched his jaw in anticipation of a shouting match, but Tommy’s next words were barely a whisper.

“L’Manburg wasn’t yours to take” his voice was hoarse and his words sharp, and the moment he had finnished speaking his stepped back quickly and walked away from the ruins of the fallen city.

[horrorslashergirl]

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: You finally come face to face with your past and present nightmare, only to see that what you thought it would happen is far from it. Swallowing your pride isn’t easy, is it?

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail (You are here)

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

Warning: Just the usual manipulation of mind.

The ride back to Jesse's place took almost one hour and a half all thanks to the traffic, Asa's form in the passager seat next to the driver's seat that was occupied by Jesse, driving to his house. He was glad the black-eyed man next to him had put a bigger dose of injection into your system because he wasn't up to you waking up in the trunk of his car and screaming.

Finally, they arrived at Jesse's place, the silver big gate coming into view and opened when Jesse pushed one of the buttons from the dashboard of his car, the gates opening automatically. If one thing could be described, Jesse loved to live in big style, the perfect lawn, modern luxury mansion, marble steps, two pools; one on the front, the other in the back.

After he parked the car, both of them stepped out and walked to the trunk, opening it and seeing you, still knocked out. Jesse picked you up, throwing you over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then went with Asa inside, to the large living-room, setting your form on one of the black velvet armchairs, binding you to it with chains. They sure wouldn't risk in you running around or lashing out like a lion.

They stayed and watched you for some 15 minutes, hoping you would wake up and get the 'thing' started. Of course, this kidnapping operation wasn't all random and out of the blue, they had it prepared for some time, and Asa had to give credit to Jesse for most of the plan, they didn't even know if you really needed to be restrained, especially when you would find out why you should stay put like a good little pet.

A groan resonated from you, as your eyes slowly opened taking in your surroundings and you gaped as your gaze stopped on the two tall males, looking at you, without their masks on. You never would have guessed that behind the black foam mask the Collector looked so...appealing? He had sandy brown hair, swiped back little, obsidian eyes that were shining, the black paint smeared from his eyes across his stubbled cheeks. Next, your eyes moved to the taller male, all dressed in black, bald head and one single brown eye that had a glimpse of curiosity and amusement in it, but what caught your attention was the scarred and roughed up the skin of his whole face, but despite the disfigured face he still held that certain...charisma? Maybe it was the sharp jawline? Or the way he looked at you?

"Finally you're up." the Collector said, walking towards you and extending his hand to cup your chin, only to almost get his hand bitten by your lashing teeth, a deep glare sent towards him, his eyes were wide, maybe by the shock that you actually had the guts to do such a thing, despite your current position.

You were ready for a slap, a punch, a sharp blade to impale you, but nothing, only a glare similar to yours. Well, that was new. You struggled against your bindings, the cold and sharp chains, digging into your biceps and sides, making you hiss in discomfort.

"Too tight?" the Collector asked into a mocking voice, making you furrow your brows more.

"Let me go, you sick and twisted psychopaths!" you screamed, a snarl pulling at your lips. Jesse was smirking at your spitfire attitude; he loved an aggressive girl, all the more fun to fuck the more submission into her and you were just too much enjoyment to pass up.

"When I get out of here, I swear I'm gonna kill you both!" you threatened, wishing you would have a chance to stab both of them between their legs.

"I don't think so." the Collector said, crossing his arms over his broad chest, his lips pulled from a thin line into a lopsided smirk that streamed danger, the kind of danger that makes your skin crawl and chills run down your spine.

A confused look crossed your face from the hateful glare, making Jesse shake his shoulders up and down in what could one say is a silent laugh. You saw him pulled out a phone from the pockets of his black slacks and beginning to type on the phone amazingly fast, only when he was finished to show you the screen, seeing a message.

'I would listen if I were you, piggy. Unless you want to feel guilty for the rest of your life.' You looked from the screen up to the scarred face of your captor, and you knew he read your still permanent confusion from your eyes.

He pulled the phone away from you and began to type on it, then he showed the screen again, only for your eyes to widen and your face to go as pale as a ghost. On the screen, it was a live video of your brothers' living-room, and he was there in his wheelchair with his girlfriend, Spann who massaged his shoulders. Your mouth parted and tried to say something, but you were left speechless, gulping down in total anxiety.

Jesse pulled away, only to type again on his phone, then again showed you.

'Got to say, your brother is quite the loverboy with my assistant. Now, it would be a tragedy if something bad might happen to him. Don't you think, little piggy?'

Your whole attitude changed, your struggling stopped, your glare vanished and you looked at the two with a look that would pretty much resemble a stray cat.

"We got your attention now. Good." the Collector said, moving closer until he was sitting on one of the armchairs, close to you and that didn't help your tension to calm down.

"Think about it like this, your brothers' life is in your hands, and you are into our hands. One wrong move from you and he is gonna end up with the skin of his back ripped off, spread like butterfly wings." the Collector hissed into your ear, making you close your eyes, feeling a bitter taste into your mouth from the words.

'Looks like the kitten lost her claws.' a robotic voice spoke, making you open your eyes, seeing the taller man leaning against the other arm of the chair, pretty much you were between them, their gaze making you feel like an ant, so easy so squish under their feet.

Your chin was caught into a firm grip, making you look gaze with the black eyes that haunted your dreams for a long time.

"Well? Are you going to behave or should we put a demonstration?" the Collector said, making your eyes widen.

"N-No!....I-I am going to behave." you whispered, swallowing down your pride, nibbling on your bottom lip in nervousness, until he tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb.

"Stop doing that, unless you want me to do it for you." the Collector said, his tone and vibe screaming authority, without having to raise his voice too much.

You felt the chains been undone, your arms and body now free, but your mind screamed to stay put, you couldn't risk your brother's life because you were stubborn. The screen of the phone was flashed again in front of your eyes and another message.

'Sweet! Now let's get to know each other. Name's Jesse Cromeans, the infamous Chromeskull, little piggy, and my friend over there is Asa Emory, better known as the Collector.'

So these were their real names?

Jesse got up from the arm of the chair and beckoned you over with his index finger, making you gulp down, not knowing exactly what you were supposed to do. You got the silent answer as he flashed in his other hand one of the large hunting knives, twirling it in an impatient way. Slowly, you got up and walked towards the bald man, until you were in front of him.

Your eyes were trained on him as he raised his hand, moving to the back of your hand where he tugged on your hair-tie, your hair falling on your shoulders, free from the ponytail.

'Wear your hair down from now on. I like it better this way.' he typed on the phone, making you feel your cheeks warming up at the words.

He moved his knife in front of you, the sharp tip of the blade moving to your chest covered by the police uniform, popping the first button of your shirt, then the second and third, until your bra-clad chest came into view. The bra was black and lacy, and you saw Jesse shiver, his tongue coming out to lick his upper scarred lip, brown eye drinking in your form.

'Doll, are you asking for it?' he typed fastly on his phone, making you blush deep red at the suggestion.

"W-What? N-No...I wouldn't..." you shuttered, taking a step back, only to collide with the bulky form of Asa, a squeak leaving your lips from the sudden contact, only for your body to move forward, your face now buried into Jesse's chest, the scent of his expensive cologne and cigarette smoke invading your nostrils and making you feel a little dizzy.

You felt his chest rumble, a silent chuckle vibrating. The next thing you felt was a hand pulling gently on your hair from your neck, exposing your left ear and the back of your neck, hot breath hitting your skin there.

"You know. You should feel very grateful, little pet. Normally, anyone else would have either ended up dismembered and assembled as an insect or either gutted in the most disgusting way and put in a coffin." Asa whispered into your ear, making you whimper, only for Jesse's hands to come on your waist and back, rubbing there in a soothing way, but you knew it was all mockery.

"A-Are you going to kill me?" you asked, your hands grasping onto Jesse's shirt, feeling like the darkness would swallow you up between these two dangerous men.

"Kill you? That would be a waste, butterfly. Such a pitful waste." the man behind you said, his lips hovering just an inch from the nape of your neck, shivers running down your spine.

This was insane; you would have probably guessed they would kill you, torture you, but not this form of kidnapping.

"Y-You're blackmailing me." you stated, tears forming into the corners of your glassy eyes.

'I wouldn't call this blackmail. I prefer the term a sweet trade. All you have to do is be a good little doll.' the electronic voice from Jesse's phone spoke. From the looks of it, he was a mute, but that didn't make him any less dangerous.

"P-Please...I-I don't want this." you tried to put some sense into them, begging, but you knew it was all in hopeless ways.

"Shhh...We didn't ask. We DEMAND it." Asa snarled, his teeth sinking into the back of your neck, a loud cry leaving your lips, only to be silenced by Jesse's rough ones, your eyes wide open seeing his half-lidded brown one.

'Enjoy, sweetheart.' Jesse's phone spoke for him, his thumb whipping your tears away from your flushed cheeks.

[diangeloyoyok]

my review on pjo movies

first up with have The Lighting Thief obviously

 Poseidon’s entrance lowkey kinda fire but high key weird

‘it’s been many years’ didn’t y’all just have that winter solstice party together ???

‘if your son if the thief i will send him to the pits of tartarus’ ouch that hurt ngl

logan lerman 🥺

he would’ve been such a good percy if they did the movies when he was younger IDC IDC IDC

i stan black grover and just grover overall

i wish we got to see my bitch nancy

sally and percy sallY AND PERCY SALLY AND PERCY SALLY AND PERCY

gabe to me is just *hmm* perfect in this movie, he’s not as mean in the movies but he’s still an asshole ehehehe

i love Chiron actor i think it’s very accurate

also wtf chiron is bros with the big three lols 😹

y’all know jenna davis?- that’s who the girl who plays ms dodd’s looks like

so they just gonna ignore him and tak ab him while he’s RIGJT. THERE.

‘This is a pen. This is a pen.’

‘Are you guys crazy? This is a pen man!’

the scene with gabe makes me uncomfy bc percy says in the book gabe never hits percy in front of sally but ok 😗✌️

leaving percy was the *mOST* difficult thing poseidon *the GOD of water* has ever done wow percy is that cool

‘You’re half donkey?!”

i am da wittlest minotaur 😳✨🙈

such a subtle entrance to the camp love it

why y’all give percy the pen before he supposed to be a badass and rip the horn off wjth his hands but ig

wait so in this dumbass movie percy doesn’t even do anything to get the horn goodbye

i’m still very pissed that they took the scene of annabeth sayjng ‘you drool when you sleep’ but it’s fine i’m NOT fine

why is no one wearing camp shirts 🤬

they may be wrong but i didnt know it was ‘brUnner’ not ‘brUNner’

it’s kinda cute how when percy first sees annabeth he’s like ‘ooouuu who’s that name now 😌😏”

brown haired blue eyed looking ass BITCH

‘A real horses ass’ laughed a LITTLE

so the poseidon cabin is just *THAT* open poor percy no privacy

oh wait wth they already know his daddy poseidon 🤨

like everyone just knew ????

when did percy get new clothes the fuck

why did everyone laugh and shake their heads when chiron introduced percy what whores

omg luke 🥺

i know everyone knows this but it’s *SOOOOOOOOO* unrealistic annabeth and luke aren’t on the same team. like i’m pretty sure in the first book annabeth said they had a permanent allies type thing with the hermes cabin

‘that’s a sword! that’s a sword’ aw baby luke why’d you have to be evil 🙁🤚

where the FUCK did that bitch tryna be annabae come from

she realky said ‘i love trees🌲☺️❤️’

why does annabeth act like clarisse during capture the flag

also the fuCK WHERE MY BABY CLARISSE

why are there like actual 30 yr olds at camp

luke was so excited when he saw percy get up he said ‘omg no way✨’

so suddenly percy just knows sword play 😀

and deFEATS ANNABETH WE ALL KNOW HE CANT EVEN DO THAT NOW

y’all red heads a bunch of babies

i already know it’s coming

shit no

i hate it

i hate it so much

already ew’d out

‘i definitely have strong feelings for you, i just haven’t decided if they’re positive or negative yet.’

‘well you let me know when you figure it out’

‘you’ll be the first’

why they just drinking nectar for fun?? like bruh you tryna die or sum

after that i can’t watch anymore tonight

it’s been like 3 weeks but let’s not talk about that

i’m not even gonna comment on the campfire scene anymore my god

i like how in movies everyone is like “omg the underworld so scary percy you can’t go that’s so dangerous you will DIE”

and in the books they’re like “yeah it’s dangerous but whateva you 12 yr olds have fun down there bring me a souvenir!!”

why does luke have?? video?? games?? in?? his?? cabin??

WAIT LIKE A WHOLE ASS TECHNOLOGY SETUP WHAT

why is luke the only one in his cabin like where’s the stolls and chris 😳

you mean to tell me luke broke into hermes house just for like funzies and to steal shit?

sounds like travis and connor but ok✨

what the fuck even is the whole pearl plot

i don’t even wanna talk about the medusa scene

percy has an ipod 🤡

“i’ve only been in the outside world a few times” did you fucking practice driving those few times or WHAT

if percy could actually heal people with water wowie imagine how useful

why did percy bring swimming trunks on a quest

can this brown haired bitch shut up already

sally never took gabes last name excuse you 🤣

ofc it’s fucking fox news giving us that bullshit info on sally

they in nashville wee-doggie 🤠

‘hey it’s your mom’ obviously dumbass she has eyes

so they hid in the potty room for like 5 hours? huh

yeah let’s jus facetime lukey real quick 🥰

silly boy percy

“how flipping awesome was that”

does percy even know he can bend water in the first book

that’s gonna be an unexplainable statue for the workers tmrw

lotus hotel baby

the only reason this movie is watchable

vegas be lookin kinda fresh i wannna go

i wanna stay at the lotus hotel this place looks sick asf

lotus flower treats yummy yum

here comes gaga 😮

why they laugjing so much

wonder if nico likes gaga

imagine like 10 yr old nico just straight vibing there

grover pulling out the dance movies yessir 🤩

“no❤️ percy don’t eat the flower”

why didn’t percy just like grab the flowers and throw them

OOOO KESHA WE LOVE TO SEE IT

TIKTOK ON THE CLOCK BUT THE PARTY DONT STOP NOW WOAHWOAHWOAH

i’m bored ✨

ooo skeletons

charon my queen 👑🥳

“we drowned in a bathtub, all three of us” 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

i wish that was in the movie

i wish a lot of things were in the movie hit that is high

we’re in the same boat in the very same boat

how do you get seasick in an elevator- BOAT?

the way to the underworld is over the styx it’s a river

i know, you show off chicks

sexist much? go make a splash

i’ll splash you

it’s like watching titian’s clash, they’ll kill each other it they’ll kiss if we’re lucky they’ll end up in an abyss

um

anyways✨

hades do be looking kinda cool tho

that’s a cool ring you got there hades

omg mommy sally 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

how did percy not notice the lightening bolt in the damn shield befORE???

“it’s luke shield he betrayed us”

damn she switched sides real fast

this phoney bitch why does she want power and a war sis go plant shit

i refuse to believe hades is abusive sorry sis you ain’t fooling me

god where’s Juniper when you need her

so no fight between percy and aries 🤡

instead we have lukey pukey

omh he’s the lightening thief i did not see that coming ong 😳

^^ me on twitter after it’s revealed on the percy jackson tv show

can this luke character chile

percy pulled a harry styles and said “i’m falling” 😔

i’m thE SON OF POSEIDON I NEVER ASKED TO BE BUT IM THE SON OF POSEIDON

“yeah, i think i am the son of poseidon”

okay 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

omG i goT bUtTerFliEs

how does s-dog jusy know how to get to olympus did y’all get freaky up there or

that’s actually kinda how i imagine olympus looking so

i guess

good job

maybe

what is this ant man why they so small

“i have no connection to poseidon”

p-dog looked kinda hurted 😳

as if zeus would ever compliment percy

has athena ever told annabeth *or any of her kids* i’m proud of you

“i need to speak with him” “just this once”

yet we got poseidon showing up once in awhile just to say hi

7 months? 😀

percy was 7 months old?

now i don’t remember much but i don’t think it was that long luv ❤️

“always”

i thought i was watching percy jackson not harry potter tf is up

sally and percy have my whole heart

g-man got his horns

chiron 🥺✨

missed my main hoe 😍

why are there so many fucking campers

there’s like 500

let’s take a chill pill shall we

annabeth and percy look like siblings in this

 incest 😳

they bouta fiGHTshe better have won

k well that’s it thank the gods 😘

i’ll be back in like 4 months to review sea of monsters i need a break of bullshit

OH ITS NOT OVER

it’s gabe

he pulled a demi

stone cold

stone cold

everyone will be happier without him

[elderkale]

chapter eight

tell me we’ll never get used to it - chapter eight

“Let’s go over that again.”

Theta resisted the urge to scream, or maybe cry. “Times,” she said, dragging the back of her hand down her face. “Places.” She hit the board with the end of her pen. The smack seemed to rip through the room and she winced, temples throbbing. Jack scowled. "Relationships.” She plucked a red string with the tip of her finger. “None of them knew each other, none of them had anything in common. What else do you want, Jack?”

“I want results.” He scratched furiously at his forehead, slumping against the edge of the desk. Theta brushed her stack of scribbled notes away before he could sit on them, then scowled. Oh, what the hell. She swept her arm across the desk and they exploded into the air like a burst of autumn leaves, fluttering to the floor in droves. He glared at her and she very nearly stuck her tongue out in response. “Nothing?” he asked, for the hundredth time, it felt like (Twelfth. She’d counted). “Come on,” he wheedled. “Nothing?” Thirteenth.

“What do you think I do, Jack?” She tossed the pen onto the desk and pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose with her fist. “You have everything I have,” she said, pinching her nose. “I’m a profiler, Jack. I do questions, and Yes, and, not taking jaunts inside their brains. What have you got?”

“You’re out of practice,” he accused, crossing his arms. Petulantly, she daresay. Haughtily. Unjustly. Stupidly.

“You’re incompetent,” she snapped, folding her glasses and tossing them onto the chair.

His glower never wavered as he reached into his pocket and fished around. She sneered and caught the stick of gum with only a tiny fumble.

(It had been Martha who’d come up with it first, and not for them, either. “I,” she’d said, first slapping a stick into Mickey’s hand, then one into Theta’s, “don’t want to hear a single word out of you—either of you,” she’d added with a sharp look in Theta’s direction, “—until you’ve calmed down.”

“How does gum help?” Mickey had protested. Martha had glared at him, and he’d all but thrown the gum in his mouth and started chewing with fervor.)

Jack snapped his gum, passing it from one side of his mouth to the other with a grimace. “Am I wrong?”

Theta clenched her jaw. Rather than respond, she tossed her own gum into her mouth and bit down hard. A frigid burst of peppermint filled her mouth, making the back of her nose tingle and her eyes water. She sighed and slumped on the seat of her chair, staring sullenly at the board.

Process was a kind word she could imagine her uncle saying to her as he patted her cheek, smiling encouragingly. Effort. You’re getting there. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. Would you like another Jelly Baby?

Clusterfuck was the word she preferred. Mess, if she was in a forgiving mood. As she watched, a sticky note peeled off and fluttered sadly to the floor.

The map was a grotesque centerpiece, framed by photographs like branching veins and notes written in cramped, scratched scrawls reminiscent of ants marching across a page. More a mosaic of scribbles than anything nearer cohesion, it was littered with lines like lashes, nailed to the board with thumbtacks and chained with so much red thread it looked almost as if it had been painted. She scowled at it and reached across the table, snatching Jack’s cup and taking a swig of cold tea.

Faces never mattered quite as much.

Jack grimaced. “Maybe he’s making shapes” he suggested. “Symbols? Demonic sigils?”

“With three bodies?” He shrugged and blew a bubble. She sighed. “Could be working himself up to it,” she accepted grudgingly, pushing herself to her feet and tracing light lines between the pins on the map. The tip of her pencil bumped against the corkboard, skittering over the criss-crosses of highlighter and marker. It would qualify for modern art soon, if they weren’t careful. “Chinese character for ‘person,’ maybe,” she said. “Or a very bad, very incomplete spelling of egg in Punjabi.”

Jack plucked the mug from her hand and took a long, hard gulp. “Pentagram?” He winced, wiping coffee from his chin with his sleeve. “Upside-down cross?” He spread his arms. “IKEA instructions?”

Theta pressed the heel of her hand against her nose, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed down. “Enochian,” she muttered into her wrist. “Uh. . . fam. S. Mean anything, S?”

“Sex,” said Jack promptly.

She threw a highlighter at him. “Distance,” she said loudly as she sat back down, grinding her gum between her molars. “Weymouth, Whitchurch, Fareham.” She cocked her head. “Could be working in a zigzag,” she said, eyes trailing down the map. “Might want to look out around Crawley, then. . .”

“But none of them actually lived where they were found.” Jack tossed a pen up and down, twirling it between his fingers with each pass. Theta wrinkled her nose. “They were moved. Brought. Whatever.”

“London.” Theta tapped her finger on her knee. “Camberwell, Peckham, and Farringdon.”

“Damn.” Jack’s face fell. “Fucking river,” he grumbled, pinching his gum between his teeth.

Theta glared at the map as if it had personally offended her, which, of course, it had. It’s all deliberate with you, isn’t it? She bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s about making a point,” she said. “Emphasis.”

“Emphasis on what?” Jack scratched his hair furiously, nails rasping against his scalp. “What’s his theme?”

“It’s not how he kills them, it’s how he shows them.” Theta dragged her hand up and down her cheek. “Unless you see disembowelment as an accessory to hammers.”

“Symbolism,” Jack surmised, looking far from pleased about it. “That woman in the library, Eva Atkins—”

“Vanity?” Theta suggested. She’d seen the photos. She’d been beautiful, in the way of television stars and the covers of supermarket romance novels. It wasn’t the biggest of a leap a raging murderer might make.

(What a word, rage. Brilliant. Frightful. Horribly personal.)

“Well, someone call David Fincher!” Jack exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “Maybe he’d like to buy the rights! Who do you want to play you?”

“Got any better ideas?” Theta retorted.

Jack sank into his seat with a wince, rubbing his knee. “No,” he grumbled. He blew another bubble, staring up at the ceiling. “We don’t know why,” he said. “That’s the part that bothers me the most. How are we supposed to stop him if we don’t even know what he’s doing?” He turned to look at her, weariness etched into every line of his face. “How do they do this?” he asked.

He looked older. It wasn’t something she’d thought about before, but he did. Darker circles beneath his eyes that were a result of more than just a few late nights, lines around his eyes that weren’t quite wrinkles but were edging dangerously close, the thin shadows in darker, duller hair—dyed.

A year could do a lot, she supposed.

“Easy,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “It’s ‘cause they expect to fail.” She slid off the armrest and into the chair.

Crunch. She closed her eyes and swore.

Jack shook the cup, then tipped it back, slurping up the last few dregs. “Claire Rook’s dead,” he said suddenly. “Well, missing. But only officially.”

Theta kept her eyes closed. “Good for her,” she muttered, dragging her hands down her face. “Who’s that?”

He was, she guessed, looking at her incredulously, or maybe in amazement. The shocked kind, bordering on anger. “The journalist,” he said. She sneered behind her hands. “She wrote the article on you.”

She lowered her hands slowly. Jack’s face was shuttered, mouth set in a hard line. She couldn’t see his hands, but she would have bet her good hand that they were pressed flat against the bottom of the table. It was how he grounded himself.

It was how he hid himself in front of two-way mirrors.

“Okay,” she said.

“I have to ask,” he said.

“No,” she said softly. “No, you don’t.”

He didn’t flinch, but it was close. “Where were you, Theta?” he asked. “Tuesday, between two and four in the morning?”

“In bed.” She slid Jack’s cup towards herself and pried the lid off. She peered into it. It was empty, save for the thinnest rim of brown around the edges. She tipped the cup upside-down and brought it to her mouth. The droplet slid about halfway before rolling to a stop. She shook the cup, but the tea remained firmly stuck to the paper.

“Anyone to corroborate?”

Theta spat her gum into the empty cup and tossed it at the bin. It missed its mark by about a foot and clattered to the ground before rolling away. “Yes,” she said bitterly.

“Wait, really?” He sat up straight. “I—who? Are you okay?”

She flicked the lid across the table. It skidded off the edge and landed silently on the ground. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just—” He fell silent. She didn’t bother to prompt him; she could fill in the gaps.

She twirled her pencil on the tabletop. The ferrule skittered across the surface like a parade of a hundred tin soldiers, or a bag of a thousand tiny beads exploding into a bell jar. It was enough to drive her to distraction, almost.

“Do I know them?” Jack asked.

Ah. Theta’s lip curled. “Might,” she said, catching the pencil between her thumb and forefinger. The wood was pitted and crushed where she’d bitten it, and the flakes of splintered paint tugged at her skin. “Starts with K, ends with oschei, last name rhymes with hoedown.”

She stood before he could get another word in, brushing eraser dust from the seat of her trousers. “Bathroom,” she said over him, letting the door swing shut behind her. “Thanks, Jack.”

She managed to make it halfway down the hall before she burst into quiet, uncontrollable giggles.

*

She couldn’t sleep.

Not that that was news. Normally, there wasn’t a day that went by where she could.

This was not normal.

She was on fire, but she wasn’t. She was wreathed in blue flames, and still thinking they were cold. Her sheets were woven out of needles with the sharp ends up, and her eyes were leaking out of their sockets.

Really, she was just itchy.

They didn’t need to know each other, she could have told him. He didn’t need to know them. He didn’t need to have a reason.

She couldn’t, of course. He wouldn’t understand. And then he’d wonder how she did.

She couldn’t have felt worse if she’d been lying in a nest of ants. She kicked the blankets away, twisting and writhing out of the bedclothes, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She shivered as the cool tile of the floor met her feet. Like a man standing on a bed of nails, except these ones pierced.

The car wasn’t one she’d seen before: a grey Ford with a scratch on the passenger-side door and a plastic dinosaur dangling from the rear-view mirror. The tires were scuffed, and it was in a parking space, but there was no ticket in the window. It took her less than a minute to pop the door open and slide into the driver’s seat, and another two before the engine rumbled to life, all without making a sound.

She tossed the crowbar over her shoulder, and it landed on the empty plastic bag in the back with a clattering whap. She gave the dinosaur a quick smack, then swerved away from the curb and down the seat.

The radio was buzzing out a jaunty electric rhythm, and the car shook with every thud of the bass. She tapped a gloved finger on the steering wheel in time to the drumming as she leaned over and pried open the glove compartment. She flicked through the stash of CDs, eyes flicking occasionally up to the empty street, until she finally managed to unearth an unopened Lion King disk with a half-off sticker plastered over Simba’s face. She tore the plastic packaging off with her teeth and tossed it out the window before popping the disc into the player. The stereo crackled, and she jerked the wheel, screeching down a side street she’d once chased a cat down.

Nants ingonyama. . . bagithi Baba. . .

She let her eyes drift shut and leaned back, hands resting lightly on the wheel. The wind whipped past, snatching at the music and dragging strands of hair out from beneath her hood.

It was a good night. Better, at least. The sky was an empty one, the moon a dull sliver behind a veil of clouds and the stars no more luminous than specks of dust catching sunlight as they drifted through the air during still summer evenings. The street itself was empty, save for her; cobblestone surrounded by high walls, behind which balconies and curtained windows were masked by towering trees and bundles of leaves only just beginning to turn red and wither in the wake of the first autumn winds. The streetlights were no more than smudges of gold beyond the edges of her vision, and, when she leaned forwards and flicked off her headlights, the street was thrown into darkness. A golden sort of black, like paintings of Parisian streets or photographs of the bottom of the sea. The kind of darkness you could see best in when you squinted, or caves that seemed to glow from the inside. It was the light that seemed to spill off walls and out of the ground at midnight, the kind of light that paved the paths in Hell.

She flexed her fingers on the wheel.

There was a man in the street.

The entire car jolted as she slammed into him and the windshield crunched as he flew into it. Her arms jerked and she was thrown forwards, nearly giving herself a concussion on the steering wheel. A noise like a bag of bricks tumbling through the dirt pervaded the air as the car rattled forwards, wheels skittering against the ground as if she were going over rocks, or a particularly uncooperative speed bump.

The wheel skidded when she slammed her foot on the brakes. The shift of the gear clicked like a trigger and she pressed down on the gas.

It was a wetter sound this time, like wet sand or glass shattering against mud. The car jolted again and she nearly hit her head against the ceiling, and so it went. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

It was a painful thing, her smile, the way it tugged at her skin and seemed to catch on the inside of her mouth. It was barbed, and the further it stretched, the deeper the thorns curled. Her mouth was full of blood, and her frigid muscles creaked in harmony with the car.

She thought she laughed, at one point. Or maybe it had been a scream.

And it moves us all—

She ripped the wires apart and the car skittered to a stop.

It’s ‘cause they expect to fail.

She dragged in a deep, clear breath through her mouth, then kicked the door open and stepped around the spreading swamp of black.

Circle of life indeed.

*

She was on him before he’d even fully opened the door, shoving him into the wall with more than just desperation and slamming their faces together, missing his lips by a mile. He returned in kind, grabbing her hair in his fists and tugging her forwards. She snarled into his mouth, fingers curling into his shoulder and his neck, biting his lip hard enough to nearly take it off.

“I did,” she hissed, hand flying down to dig into his hip with punishing force. He growled and grabbed her wrist. “You asked what changed,” she said, nails digging into the back of his hand. “I did.” He bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, and her other hand shot up to his hair, tugging sharply. “Still behind me,” she rasped.

Oh, Thete. His buttons rained on the floor and she raked her knuckles down his chest in burning, bruising lines. I always was.

[mieteve-minijoma]

Songfic Day 16: Don't Fear The Reaper

Day 16: A song that’s a classic favorite: Don’t Fear The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

PART TWO: 

Jughead Jones is tasked with protecting Betty Cooper, the reporter who had a hit put out on her life and had come to them for protection. Sure Betty is stunningly beautiful, but she digs under the skin like a knife. 

She is determined to defy him until she gets caught in a terrifying situation and can’t help how her attitude changes once she sees that multiple sides of the future Serpent King.

***** 

“Alright Princess, you’re with me,” Jughead gripped her hand tightly, dragging her out the room before she could protest, and up a second set of stairs to another locked door. Betty hated to admit that this dominant side of him did things to her, but she wasn’t about to show him that.

“If you’ll be so kind as to get the fuck off me,” she spat as she yanked her arm from him, “that’d be great. Where the hell are you taking me anyway? FP said to watch me, not lock me away in a tower Mother Gothel.”

Jughead placed his hand over his chest in mock offense, “Ouch, you wound me Rapunzel. I really think I identify more with Flynn Rider then Mother Gothel.”

“Why is your name Eugene and that’s why you go by Jughead?” Betty mocked him as they entered another hallway, this one with two doors across from one another.

“Believe me Princess, my real name is much worse then something as plain as Eugene. That name would be a blessing in my book,” Jughead chuckled as he unlocked the door on the left and dragged her through it, relocking the door behind him.

“Do you seriously feel it necessary to lock me inside? Where am I going to go, really?” she scoffed, “I mean it’s not like there are a lot of places that are especially safe for me right now.”

Betty noticed his demeanor change, his lips turning down into a scowl and his eyes darkening, “Don’t think I am gonna just up and trust a northsider just because she bats her pretty little eyelashes and gives my Dad some sob story about the Ghoulies. I don’t know you and I don’t trust you. So while we are stuck with each other, you will follow my rules or pay the piper. Got it, sweet cheeks?” he growled.

Betty felt her face flame in anger at his abrupt attitude shift and his blatant distrust of her for just being from a different side of town. She did her best to not judge the southside or the people that resided there. She shouldn’t be mistreated just for the prejudice of others and she sure as hell wasn’t gonna let some James Dean wannabe treat her with disrespect.

Betty stepped closer to him, narrowing her eyes and poking him in the chest with her index finger, “First off, this whole Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Douche-bag routine you got going on isn’t going to fly with me, so knock it the fuck off. As you said we are stuck with each other, so we might as well attempt to get along, for however long this takes. Secondly, the next time you call me sweet cheeks, you’re gonna get a taste of what your little friend downstairs got. You got that, asshole?” 

   

*****

Jughead was legitimately speechless right now... Speechless and just a little bit turned on.

Never in his whole life growing up on the southside had anyone, male or female, stood up to him the way this girl had in the short span of a few hours. He couldn’t help the smirk his lips curled into as he wondered if she was just as feisty in the bedroom as she was at any other time.

Betty must have read his thoughts because her eyes narrowed at him again, “What?!”

“Nothing really, just...” Jughead paused as he leaned to whisper in her ear, grinning wider as her breath hitched, “If you wanted to top, all you had to do was ask, I’d be more than happy to switch and bottom for you anytime,” he chuckled at her shocked gasp.

“Well I never-” Betty started but Jughead simply laughed, flicking his thumb across his nose and smiling wider.

“Somehow I doubt that Princess,” he winked, walking into a room down the hall and closing the door behind him.

Jughead slumped against the door, his heart hammering in his chest and his body betraying his cool and calm facade. Jughead looked down at his erection, laughing to himself, You need to get it together, man. Girls like her are bad news and you damn well know it. So she’s hot? And what if she has spunk? She is here for protection, nothing more, nothing less. Don’t mix business.

Jughead pushed himself off the door, clicking the lock before gathering some clothes and heading to his bathroom to take a shower. A nice cold shower...

*****

Betty couldn’t move from her spot in the middle of his living room, staring at the closed door a few feet from her. Did he really just insinuate? And did I... I mean, did I like it??? Betty wondered, clenching her thighs together as she pictured exactly what he might be doing on the other side of that door. Jesus Cooper, reel it in, you’re acting like a teenager for God’s sake.

Her phone ringing pulled her from her thoughts and when she looked at the caller ID she saw that it was an unknown caller. Fighting the urge to throw it across the room and hide somewhere safe, she slowly answered, “Hello?”

“Hey there Blondie, miss me?”

“Malachi. To was do I owe this dishonor?” she rolled her eyes. She really regretted going undercover and getting involved with the Ghoulies and most especially Malachi. From everything she’d seen, he was ruthless. He had a blatant disregard for honor or empathy for other people. All he cared about was his money and his drugs. Oh, and power. That was what this scum lived on.

“Oh baby, now is that anyway to talk to the man that holds your life in his hands? Although I wouldn’t be mad to hold a lot more than that in my hands.”

Betty’s stomach turned at his sinister laugh, the thoughts of him touching her causing bile to rise in her throat. She shook it off, gathering her strength, "What the fuck do you want asshole?" 

"You listen here bitch, I know where you are and who you are with. I have eyes on you already and that snake pit isn't gonna protect you."

Betty felt her blood run cold as her mind raced, How does he know where I am? I made sure no one followed me...

"Oh and if you think the Serpent Prince is going to be of any help to you, think again Cooper. Everyone has their price. How do you think I found out where you were? See you soon, Blondie."

As the like went dead, Betty dropped her phone to the carpet with a thud, her heart stuck in her throat. Had she really so gravely misjudged the Serpents that she walked right into a trap? Was that why he'd locked her in, so she couldn't get away? All Betty knew for certain was she wasn't sticking around to find out. 

Betty gathered her things, looking for a way out. She could pick the lock but getting past a group of Serpents would prove almost impossible. She looked out of the window and saw a fire escape that lead all the way to the back alley. The window wouldn't budge so Betty had a choice to make.

And ultimately, Jughead was right. They didn't know each other, and there was no way in hell she was gonna trust him after what Malachi said to her and the things he knew.

Betty looked around, spotting a baseball bat by the front door but as she went to grab it she heard Jughead's voice calling from inside his room.

She raced to the window, smashing it with the bat and took off down the fire escape and into the night.

*****

"Princess, can you not hear me-"  Jughead's question was cut off by the sound of shattering glass and footsteps on the fire escape, "What the fuck?!" 

Jughead watched as Betty raced down the metal stairs, looking back up at him with terror in her eyes. What the hell spooked her? Jughead didn't have much time to think. He grabbed his jacket and threw his boots on, thankful that he'd decided on jeans and a tank, grabbed his gun and took off after her.

"Where the hell do you think you're going!" he yelled, running faster after her. He didn't have any idea what she was doing or why she ran but he was determined to find out. 

Jughead raced around a corner, eager to cut her off at the other end of the alley and figure out what the hell she was thinking when a scream made him freeze. He heard a scuffle, like she was fighting someone off when he heard a familiar voice.

"God, Malachi said you were gullible, but I think honestly you are the dumbest bitch I have ever seen." Tallboy? What did he mean Malachi?

"You know, I was just supposed to put you down but since I got you here all alone, I might as well have some fun first." Jughead heard her struggling again before a slap resonated through the air.

"Hold still bitch! I promise after I have my fun, I'll make sure you are nice and ready for Mal and the boys when I take you back to him." Tallboy laughed causing Jughead to snap. 

He ran around the corner, gun drawn and ready, "Back the fuck away from her Tallboy or I swear to Christ, I will put you down."

Tallboy laughed, grabbing Betty by the throat and pressing her to his chest as a shield. Jughead could see the fear in her eyes as blood dripped from her nose and lip. His jaw tightened when he caught a glimpse of the bruise forming on her cheek.

"What are you gonna do you little piss ant? Oh, the mighty Serpent Prince, all fear him. Well, now I get to take you out myself, then I'm gonna hurt this little cunt real bad and hand her over to Malachi and no one will ever know." Tallboy ran his fingers along Betty's jawline as she struggled against him.

Jughead scoffed at his cockiness, "What makes you think no one will find out?"

"Cause no one figured out when I took out Joaquin, they won't figure it out now." Jughead growled at his confession, stepping closer to Tallboy and Betty.

"You are missing one glaringly obvious thing Tallboy, I never go anywhere without backup." Suddenly a shot rang out, the bullet catching Tallboy between the eyes and sending his body crashing to the ground.

Betty collapsed into tears on the gravel below, the shock of the situation turning into realization. Jughead stepped closer to her and scooped her into a bridal hold in his arms just as FP and a few others came running.

Jughead stopped in front of his Dad, Betty still in his arms and clinging to him for dear life, "Tallboy was the mole, he killed Quin and he's working with the Ghoulies. He tried- he tried to hurt Betty... Toni put a bullet in his forehead."

Jughead lifted her higher in his arms, whispering into her hair, "Don't worry Betty, I promise no one will hurt you as long as I'm around." 

To Be Continued...

[unpredictableclone]

Hoodlum | Chapter 1: Father and Son

Summary:

Hoodlum: a person who engages in crime and violence; a hooligan or gangster.

Jason Peter Todd was born a hoodlum. His father was a one; like father, like son. Once a Crime Alley kid, always one.

He was born to be an enemy. 

Or AU where Jason climbs his way out of hell which results to his resurrection.

Mentions of sexual and child abuse. 

First fanfic I’ve written for a long while.

Vaguely inspired by these songs: Daddy by Kumira and Enemy by Seungrae

Word count: 3006.

Chapter 2

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

'I'm sorry,' Is all the boy thinks of. 'Thank you.'

His gloved calloused hand reaches upwards, as he falls down the black hole.

'Alice,' He vaguely recalls. 'Alice in Wonderland.'

An invisible force, invisible arms and legs wrap around his body and drag him down. He shifts his shoulders and arms as best as he can, he can hear loud cracks-- broken ribs and broken arms.

He can feel a burning heat radiating off from the bottom of the hole-- his fucking ass is about to be lit on fire. On any other given day, he'd joke about it with Bruce and even Dick, if he ever saw them again.

"Bruce!"

His throat burns. Something makes it's way up through his esophagus and up to his tongue. His taste buds relish the iron flavor. He coughs violently before letting the blood leak out and raspy voice to scream once more.

"Alfred!" He screams out.

"Dick!" He's never called for Dick before, it's his first time. And not in that way, ya nasty.

Dick never comes home, and when he does, it isn't to visit him or Bruce. It's always to visit Alfred or maybe he's there to pick up some things he had forgotten.  They spoke a couple of times, with the jobs they both have, it was only natural that they would have teamed up together at least once.

The boy recalls the first time he ever worked with the young man, Dick had been neutral at the least but afterwards Dick gave him his original Robin costume and number. Told him that if Bruce becomes too much for Jason, he would always be welcome to his apartment and talk.Another time that they worked together. 

He clearly remembers what Dick had called him in a fond voice, "little wing," and then proceeded to cover his eyes from seeing the indecency of the situation. What Dick didn't know was that it wasn't new to him at all, but for some reason that simple small act activate a small warmth from the boy's chest.

He doesn't know why he calls for them. He doesn't want to know why. He misses them.

Dick. Alfred. Bruce-- I'm sorry. Thank you.

But he knows that they won't come. He widens his hazel green orbs-- the invisible force suddenly lets him go and he free falls to the bottom of the scorching pit.

His screams die out as he lands on his back, loud cracks exit his spine. His breath is knocked out of him; he's broken.

But he gets up anyways, his skin blistering from the heat. His back and legs are numb and stiff.

He doesn't know where is he, he doesn't know where's he's landed-- he needs to get back, back to Batman, back to Bruce, back to his dad.

"Jason?" A soft voice calls for him.

His heart drops, Jason turns his head actively, trying to figure out where her voice originated from.

She calls for him again and he picks up his green military boots in a quickened pace, following the source of her sweet voice.

Her voice is filled with concern and uncertainty, and he wonders what his mother, Catherine, is doing in this hole. He picks up his pace.

The hole he's stuck in is very large, there are tunnels and hallways-- like an ant colony, he thinks.

He takes a right, and then a left, and then another right.

A maze, it's a maze-- Pac Man, Jason suddenly recalls.

The closer and closer he gets to the voice, the closer and closer he gets to her, he runs closer and closer to the eternal raging fire of the pit.

He's burning, his skin is set ablaze-- oh god, the warehouse. He could feel the explosion and the fire, his mother's screaming-- the smell, oh the smell-- bile runs through the bottom of his stomach and out of his mouth-- it's the smell of his burning flesh. Freshly cooked. Freshly burnt.

"Jason!" Her voice breaks him away from his memories, a cold hand set on his sweating neck.

It's cold, cold like when he held her body when he had found her-- she was dead, Catherine, was dead and now he officially on his own now. Cold, cold like his first Gotham winter by himself where he realized that what he needed to survive could only be found if he spread his mouth and legs for creepy old men and women.   Cold, cold like when he stumbled upon his mother's dealer being hold gunpoint in an alley one day and simply looked the other way when the trigger was pulled. Cold, cold like he was tied up and beaten to an inch of his life, and then blown up-- murdered in cold blood.

"Mom?" He calls back to her, his gloved hands gently grabbing her frail ones.

There are tears falling from her honey colored eyes, and she puts on a sad smile.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, her voice choked up, small sobs escaping her mouth. Her hand moves and caresses his face.

He replies with a small frown.

"Mom, what are you doing here?"

She ignores his question and pulls him into her arms. It's a stupid question and he knows. The things she made him do, the things she had done to him— they are sins that cannot be forgiven.

He's a head taller than her now and she could feel how muscular he has become over the past years. She sobs even harder, her heart is swelling so fast that she can't contain it. He's grown up so much, so much better than he could have, he's so healthy and—

"You're so young," She cries. "You're too young."

What is her little boy doing in hell?

He ignores her and tightens his grip on her hands. He began to gently drag her to the entrance. He'll fight him if he has to, if it's the only way for him and his mother to get the hell out. Before then, he was too young and too small to fight back, but he'll win this time— he'll beat him this time.

"We're leaving this place, mom." His voice is lower than she remembers.

He makes the last turn when something bigger and stronger than him pulls his back cape from behind and throws him into the air. His hand disconnects from his mother's. He could never drag her down with him.

Jason's body bounces from the cave-like walls, it reminds him of the caves of home. But this isn't home, it isn't home at all.

He lands on his stomach and pushes his arms to lift his body up. He looks at the perpetrator. He hears laughter and it's different from the one he last heard. He knows this voice, this laughter.

The boy knows exactly where he is now. The someone whom he thought to be Satan himself has come to greet him.

"You... You actually thought you were pure? You actually thought you could escape that life? What a load of bullshit!" The voice laughs again. "And how unbelievable for you to end up here instead of up there!"

The boy doesn't say anything to this man.

He's not afraid. He's had worse. He's already meet Satan before. He'll be fine. He will be fine. But in these green Kevlar padded tights, in this red armored shirt, the little golden 'R' he bears suddenly feels like a curse rather than a blessing. His legs tremble, but his back straightens.

"You can't fly, you've had broken wings to begin with." The boy shuts his hazel orbs. He knows. He knows that.

"Wait a second," The voice laughs again. "A street rat could never be a bird!"

He ignores him and looks up. There has to be a way for him to escape this hole, a way for him to climb up. A way for him to return to Bruce and Alfred.

"It's hilarious to see you and your mother here, brat."

The blood in the boy's veins boil and his muscles tense. Honey and green eyes burn as he looks at the pathetic excuse of a man, a father, right in front of him.

"It's nice to know that I dragged you and your mother down with me, Robin."

He ignores the name, and steps forward when he is immediately stopped by a large hand on his chest. Only one man had the right to call him that.

The boy looks up at the man. His dark hair pushed back lazily and strays curled away from his matching thick brows. His jawline is covered by coarse black hair and his dark eyes sunken. His tan skin rotten, his smile bare and taunting. He looks exactly like him.

"I'm not surprised to see you here." The boy says, before his lips curve upwards. "It's nice to know that you're at the place I sent you to."

The boy taunts back out of spite.

"You little shit." The man laughs.

A fist comes straight for the boy's face, but he knows better. He gently moves out of its course.

"Whoa, there," The aged man laughs. "You sound and move just like the Bat!"

His eyes scan the room. Four men and three women; all of whom he knows. His mother's dealer, his father, his first john, and another john whose number he can no longer remember. His mother runs to side as his real mother stands before him, and the woman who pimped him out watches.

Seven, he counts. Seven, he counts. His seven sins.

He hears footsteps, more sinners appear. He recalls the majority of them as his past johns and criminals that he helped imprison with Batman.

He shuts his eyes as they all jump on him, some one by one and others all together. His arms and legs are pulled and twisted from all directions as the blistering sensation spreads throughout his body. He screams and screams.

A crowbar slamming into the side of his face, his ribs, his legs. Just 'whack,' and 'whack' and 'whackwhackwhack--'

'--So this is how hell feels like,' He thinks to himself as another part of him calls out to his family, calling for help.

His throat runs dry faster than he wants it to, and all he could hear is cracking-- his bones cracking-- and the only order is could smell is the burning of his flesh and the strong iron of his blood. He tastes the saltiness of his tears, his metallic blood, and the spew of his last meal mixed with his stomach acid.

They're holding down his body, they're pushing down on him, pulling him apart, kicking and punching him; he feels himself sinking further and further down hell. Both his mothers, Catherine and Sheila, are dragged and beaten down with him. He could feel them trying to over his body from the perpetrators, but he has grown too big for them to completely do so. Their cries and screams become one with his.

"Stop! Please stop!" He could hear them plead. "He's just a boy, he's just a little boy!"

If he never sold himself, perhaps he'd never be down here. If he died with his mother, either Catherine or Sheila, perhaps he'd never be down here. If he never was his father's son, perhaps he'd never be down here.

His father was a hoodlum; like father, like son. His father was sent to hell; like father, like son.

But Jason was sure that he'd never end up here. But he wasn't his father. He could never be, the blood bond was not there. Bruce was not his real father, no matter how much Jason wished for him to be. That perhaps somehow, Sheila and Bruce had some connection and got drunk one night and ended up having a one night stand. That perhaps somehow, he could have truly been saved; saved from the abuse from Willis, from the johns, from his madam, from the cold and life sucking Crime Alley, and from the Joker.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Bruce. Thank you.'

The masked boy could feel his body go limp-- limp? Limp?! He wasn't a quitter-- Bruce, Bruce raised him better!

Robin, Boy Wonder, was Dick Grayson. Robin, Boy Terror, was Jason Todd.

And he'd be damned if he didn't fight back, if he didn't show them how terrible he was! That's right, he was a street rat with fake wings,  pretending to be a bird, pretending to be someone he wasn't, but he was better than this.  He was better than his father.

Bruce raised him better than this!

"Oh, fuck off!" He roars from the deepest and loudest voice he could get and it shakes the very walls and floors of hell.

Crack, crack, crack! Goes his bones. He gently tears off Catherine and Sheila and roars once more.

"Fuck off! Fuck off, you bastards! " He howls. His muscles are torn and feel as if they were that wet cloth that Alfred uses when he cleans his wounds for him; twisted in opposite directions. He can hear his muscles tearing apart, ripping away.

He bellows and lifts himself from the stone floor. He grabs the first person he sees, his first john. His fists connect with his pathetic pale face, his lanky figure flies a foot away from Jason. He doesn't stop for a second before throwing his fists to the next person in line; his father, the other johns, the dead criminals. The blood flowing inside of him is hot and boiling, his heart pumping like a loud drum.

He used to be afraid of them, too weak to win against them, but Bruce raised him better. Bruce taught him to be better, faster, stronger.

His body doesn't stop moving, he's flying in the air, kicking and punching. The blood in his veins are in flames, his skin blistering and bursting as he fights. These bastards, these assholes, all of them deserved to die! They deserved this hell, this punishment, and they deserved more pain. Fuck these guys! Jason doesn't stop until his gloves are drenched in red. They all go down one by one, bloodied and defeated until there's only Sheila, Catherine, and him alive and standing.

Batman never taught him to kill, but it didn't matter since they were already dead anyways. So fuck it anyways. Fuck these guys.

Something twitches in his soul, in his heart, an instinct. A single golden feather softly floats down in front of him. His tired arm reaches out to it. The second he touches it, the golden color withers into ash and fades.

He could grow wings and fly Shelia and Catherine out.

His hazel orbs look over to his mothers, a painful expression sat on their faces. Catherine opens her arms to him and Jason walks over to her. Shelia rubs his back as Catherine guides him to the wall of the cave and they both gently lift him up.

He does not have wings. He cannot carry them out of this pit. A street rat could never grow wings; it is not in their biology.

He trapped here; they are trapped here. His hand slips, but his toes that resided in his green military boots stuck on to the wall, he was getting higher and higher.

Bruce didn't raise no quitter, and so Jason keeps on climbing.

The blistering heat cools as he climbs higher and higher, his body getting sorer and sorer, and he wonders if he will even make it out to the top.

But Jason wasn't a quitter.

Tired, exhausted, and quenched; he keeps on climbing. Bruce took him rock climbing once. He had fallen down multiple times but Bruce had always been there to catch him. Bruce encouraged him to do it again, to never give up.

His thighs and biceps are giving in now, heavy and strengthless, but he has to keep on going. He's going to get out. He's going to live. He's going to live, he's going to return home, he's going back to Bruce and Alfred and Dick. The world fucked him over and he'd be damned if he didn't do the same to the world.

Entireties pass by, he's worn out. He wants to go home and sleep in his bed. He wants to snuggle himself in the red satin sheets and thick blankets that lie on his bed. He wants to dunk his heavy head on the fluffy pillows that he begged Bruce to buy for him, and he wants it to envelop around his sore neck and give him peace.

He wants for Bruce and Alfred to bid him goodnight before he heads off to bed. He wants to wake up refreshed and to head to the kitchen to help Alfred like he usually does and eat breakfast with Bruce as he reads the morning paper and blab to him about his vivid dreams that he had the night before.

He wants to get ready for school and go to class to see his AP chemistry teacher, Mrs. Hei, and listen to her lessons with her down-to-earth and laid-back personality.

He wants to go see his counselor, Mr. Bodin, who's bright, joking and understanding personality guided Jason's academic and personal decisions; his second mentor and second father, secrets told to him that he could never tell Bruce or small insecurities he could never bother Bruce with. He wants to tell him about a new book that he had found in the Wayne Manor Library and suggest it for their book club to read next.

He wants to see his school therapist, Mrs. Nadia, who's understanding and compassionate personality helps Jason who treats him like a friend and an elder sister figure.

His green tattered fingers grip onto the small curves and indents of the walls. He does not have wings but he will climb his way out of here. He will climb back home. He will return to Bruce and Alfred, and he will finally try to connect with Dick and maybe Bruce will allow him to join the Teen Titans.

He's gonna go to graduate as valedictorian from Gotham Academy and he's gonna get a full ride to Harvard. He's gonna grow up and become his own hero, like Dick had, and he's gonna return home to see Alfred and Bruce on weekends and holidays. He's gonna grow up, he's gonna grow up, he's gonna—

It doesn't matter anymore. He's dead.

Jason wakes up in the dark, gasping for air; his body bloodied and broken, confined in a small space.

Bruce was not a quitter and neither was Jason.

Like father, like son.

[ohcaptaintarthister]

Brienne of Tarth: The Finale Death Twist?

Before I begin, some things first: 

1. Brienne is my FAVORITE character in the books and the TV show. I love that her character has put into question the meaning of being a woman and femininity, and the portrayal of Gwendoline Christie is just perfect. 

2. Being as she’s my favorite, I don’t want to see her dead. I don’t want her hurt any more than she already is in the books. She’s my baby.

3. In the immortal words of Ramsay Bolton, “If you think this has a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention.” (Ramsay Bolton deserves to be eaten alive by fire ants but Iwan Rheon was fucking excellent in the role)

4. Bear in mind this is just a SPECULATION. It’s not based on leaks but on what I’ve seen in the show this Season 7. 

5. Again, she’s my favorite. I’d hate if this happens. As I told a friend, if D&D do this, they should throw themselves into shark-infested waters. 

6. This post contains spoilers from Episode 6. Leave if you haven’t seen it yet. I don’t want to ruin it for you. 

You’re still here? Here we go. 

As a fan of Brienne, Season 5 was a huge disappointment. After a run-in with Littlefinger’s knights at an inn, the most badass warrior in the Seven Kingdoms arrived just outside of Winterfell and spent the rest of the season waiting for a light to appear in the tower. Moments before Sansa finally did what we’ve been waiting for, Brienne was told by Podrick about Stanni’s army marching toward Winterfell. I felt Brienne’s conflict at being caught between two vows: avenging Renly or fulfilling her promise to Catelyn Stark and Jaime Lannister to find and protect Sansa. She chose Renly.  

Season 6 reminded us of the Brienne we’ve come to know and love. She rescued Sansa from the Boltons, reunited her with Jon at Castle Black, vowed to serve her and give her counsel if need be. Then of course came Episode 8, which reunited her, too briefly, with Jaime Lannister. It ended in another goodbye, yet it wasn’t as heart-wrenching as their previous partings. There was hope that they would meet again in Season 7 and maybe this time, stay with each other. 

We know what’s happened to that so far.

With the show having no source material to draw from beginning Season 5, D&D were forced to advance character storylines and events based on rough outlines and their own interpretations of them. Season 5 was bad, bad, bad, without question. Season 6, which revisited some chapters of the books, was great. 

Season 7 started on a good note. Not as great as we’ve been hoping but there’s really not much to expect from a transitionary episode. And then. . .you know the rest. 

My frustration aside, I suppose it rocks that characters who either last saw each other in Season 1 or have never shared a scene together are now on a collision course. Tyrion and Jon! Tyrion, Jon and Theon! Jon and Daenerys! Arya! Sansa! Jaime and Daenerys! JAIME AND TYRION. DRAGONS! Euron. It’s obvious that it’s these meetings that matter and fuck logic. Fuck questions. Just sit back, watch and drool over dragons now the size of 747s. Alright.

But I can’t. I just can’t. I do understand the importance of reaching the finish line at all costs but the current season has made some compromises that I simply can not agree with. And one of that is Brienne. 

Let’s be honest. In the books, after Brienne leaves King’s Landing, she just wanders around, gets attacked, gets her face eaten off. Then she gets hanged by Lady Stoneheart. She finds Jaime and lies about Sansa. The next time she’s referenced, it’s after Cersei is told that Jaime went off with Brienne and they haven’t been seen in weeks. 

It’s not interesting TV seeing Brienne lost in Westeros and possibly failing to fulfill her vows. You want to see a character who succeeds so we get TV Brienne fighting against the Hound, Knights of the Vale and Bolton men. That’s fine with me. Because through no fault of her own, she already had, in a way, failed in her vows--she couldn’t protect Renly from Stannis’ shadow assassin, she wasn’t there when Catelyn was murdered. So yeah, I wanted to see her achieve something in the show. 

Now there’s not one but three Starks back in Winterfell. She also managed to convince Jaime to take Riverrun peacefully rather than through violence. She didn’t get the Tully men but made it back to Winterfell unscathed. Here, she continues training Podrick. She becomes Arya’s sparring partner. She remains suspicious of Littlefinger. My question is, is this all that Brienne is left to do? 

No. She has to do one more thing. 

This is the part that’s unpleasant. I fucking hate it. I would love to be proven wrong. I don’t blame anyone who reads this for hating me. I hate myself for writing this too. But I am, anyway. 

She’s not doing anything much in Winterfell. It’s painful to watch. It’s more painful than in Season 5 because at least you’re still wondering if she will fulfill her vow regarding the Stark girls. But as Podrick thought to point out in Episode 4 of this season, she has fulfilled her vows to Catelyn Stark. You might read that as Brienne being noble and honorable. I do. 

I also read it as a death sentence.

No, this isn’t the unpleasant part yet.

If you’ve seen Episode 6, Sansa is sending her to King’s Landing in answer to Cersei’s summons. Holy Seven Fucking Hells. What was Sansa thinking? If she was sure that Cersei would take her as prisoner or worse (I don’t think Cersei is 100 % convinced she’s innocent from Joffrey’s murder), why would she think Brienne would be treated any nicer? Knowing how Cersei is, she’s going to take this as an insult. She’s high on being Queen, getting to fuck her brother openly, there’s another incest baby on the way. What would stop her from hurting Brienne? 

I’m not yet on that hated, hated part.

Look, Brienne has not had anything to do this season. I don’t know what her point is anymore in the show unless something happens to her in the finale that advances the plot significantly. I would love if her presence yanks Jaime from the fluffy incest cloud he’s been on. But then D&D didn’t only had to shoot down the BT ship (thank goodness), they also had to announce that one of them will be killed soon. That’s going to be Brienne.

Think about it. If Tormund dies, so what? He’s not a POV character. His death would be sad for Jon, if he’s there. But for such a dispensable character, this might be the factor that ensures Tormund survives until a few episodes of Season 8. His death will do nothing to the plot. That’s his armor. When he dies, you’ll mourn for three seconds. That’s it. If you mourn. 

Season 7 has been surprisingly sparing in known character death tolls. We don’t give a fuck about Ellaria and Bad Pussy although it’s horrible how they went. We felt and cheered for Olenna. But they’re not POV  characters. I have a bad feeling that D&D are saving up a major death in the finale and it’s going to be Brienne.

Why Brienne? Again, she’s not doing much this season. That’s a bad sign. From a character that was instrumental in Jaime Lannister re-thinking about honor, she’s been slowly pushed to the sidelines. She’s become something other major and POV characters are propped on--Sansa and Arya, namely, maybe even Tormund. She’s used to give them meat. And I think Jaime Lannister is next in line.

Who is not furious with Jaime’s arc this season? It’s a BETRAYAL to the Jaime we know and kind of root for in the books. His disillusionment with Cersei begins much earlier. They never have sex after the deed next to Joffrey’s corpse. Everything that Book!Jaime has done to get us on his side has been undone or not at all by TV!Jaime.And with him more attached to Cersei, who has promised to acknowledge him publicly as their baby’s father, he won’t be leaving her side. Unless--

Unless Cersei discovers his other betrayal.

Remember in Episode 5 when she was taunting Jaime about being betrayed by Bronn? How she knew about their meeting with Tyrion but let it happen? She was testing him. After she tells him about the baby and they, ick, kiss and hug, she reminds him to never betray her again. I don’t think Jaime will be leaving her side anytime soon. 

But what if Cersei hurts Brienne to teach Jaime about never betraying her again? Wait, Cersei doesn’t hurt people. She tortures them. 

Alright people, this is the very unpleasant part. Look away. Stop reading this. Again, I hope I’m wrong. But we’ll know next week. I’m gunning that this is sick crack, okay? 

Cersei has no idea in both the show and the books that Jaime charged Brienne with looking for Sansa and protecting her. When Brienne arrives in King’s Landing in Episode 7, and, being that this is the season for suspending disbelief (you don’t drown in armor nor fur, you won’t freeze to death falling asleep in the snow), I will have to believe that Cersei knows swords and she will recognize Oathkeeper. There has to be a reason why Sandor Clegane, Littlefinger and Brynden Tully have called attention to Brienne’s Lannister sword in previous seasons. It’s to lead to this moment. It’s not going to be pretty.

We probably won’t see torture (I hope not). But what if prior to the Dragon Pit scene, IF there is a scene here (I’m not basing my spec on leaks but on what’s been on the show so far), there’s a confrontation between Jaime and Cersei? Cersei reminds Jaime about his promise to never betray her again and he swears he hasn’t. Enter Brienne, clearly bearing signs of torture. 

Cersei is barely keeping it together but she’s gleeful. Jaime is horrified. In order to teach him a lesson, she has The Mountain kill Brienne. Jaime is unable to stop her. Finally, he knows Cersei for what she truly is. But the price is too high. 

Except for the population of King’s Landing, the people Jaime saved didn’t really fare well later. He chose to murder Aerys after being told to bring him Tywin’s head. Years later, he had to tell Tywin that he couldn’t believe he saved his father just for him to want his baby brother dead. Tywin is murdered by Tyrion. Jaime pushed Bran off the tower but his children died horribly, anyway. 

What if there are callbacks to these in the season finale? He saved Brienne from rape and a bear only for her to be tortured and murdered at Cersei’s orders. 

Brienne’s murder finally shows Jaime the extent of Cersei’s cruelty. He wasn’t there when she blew up the Sept (and is probably unaware she’s behind it). He didn’t know she had Ros tortured to keep Tyrion in line. He was off sulking while she gave Bad Pussy the Poison Kiss and sentenced Ellaria to the torture of seeing her daughter die so painfully. He’s finally awake. Along with the realization of the kind of person Cersei really is is also the realization that he contributed to Brienne’s death. That’s going to destroy him but no, Jaime won’t kill himself. 

So if and when he leaves King’s Landing, it’s really over between him and Cersei. Away from this cesspool, Jaime has to try and live with honor.  It’s going to be hell. Brienne was the only person who believed this about him. He has to try. At last, he will try. 

**** I told you it’s upleasant. 

[clandestineclairvoyant]

The Good, the Bad, and the Very Confused

 So I’ve been working on this on and off, and I’m thinking about rehauling the whole thing. Possibly about turning it into Genji/McCree? It would involve messing with the Overwatch timeline quite a bit though. any suggestions, comments, or critique is welcome!

 It’s  a headcanon/au. Where else could you possibly have found a dirty cowboy in 2076 unless there was time travel involved.

Someone hit McCree in the mouth, and blood flew from his teeth, lip bursting like overripe fruit against his crooked grin.

Not the first time he’d been hit. Far from the last. In fact, he’d been hit quite a bit just in the past hour.

When he turned back to the men- Dave, Dave had hit him, the petty son of a bitch- they looked part frightened, part triumphant. Blood was smeared on one of Dave’s gloved hands, bright and wet red against dusty black leather, and Jesse zeroed in on it with a nasty swoop of anger in his stomach.

A few drops ran down Jesse’s chin, tickly and hot, and he spit them away with a curl of his lip and a snort of his nose.

It was already broken, and blew snot and gore down into the dirt where his hand had caught him from busting any more a his pretty face. His knuckles were swollen from the rowdy drag up to the top of the cliff where they were currently perched, the door between them hanging open like a rusty maw and framing the three offenders in the light of the dying sun.

“Your momma show you how to hit Dave? Or did you learn from you little sister? I bet they beat you like a stupid goddamned drum<, you ugly son of a bitch.”

“You keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna cut your stupid fool tongue out.” Dave shook the blood off of his glove, and aimed a kick at Jesse which he skittered backwards from, laughing like a jackal with red teeth and a nasal rattle. “Little prick.”

“Chinga tu madre, puto.” Jesse added gleefully, scrambling to his feet, and backing himself into the dark entry they’d thrown him in. He knew which way his bread was buttered, and it was definitely better to bide his time.

They had to come back to kill him eventually.

“Sergio doesn’t want to deal with your shit today McCree. You fucked up again- And this time you cost us money.” Dave sneered, mouth ugly and eyes glittering. There was a hint of enjoyment there, Jesse could see it. Always could. Why he never liked working with him. “You can cool your heels in here until he feels like comin’ and tanning yer hide like you deserve. Ya soft lily-livered fuck.”

“Cost Sergio money. Cost you the chance to get yer mouth on his prick more like-” McCree growled out, baring his teeth and making a rude gesture with his hands.

Dave snarled and lunged forward, but Thompson grabbed his arm and jerked him to a quick stop that spun him, feet skidding in a circle towards now silent Jesse- Who simply sucked his lip and snarled.

Millson, the big ugly lug, just sat and blinked wetly in the hot red sunlight coming in from the cracked open door. The creep never seemed to sweat, no matter how hot the Arizona sun shone down and the thunderheads built up in the distance. Jesse kept a wary eye on him, and the big fleshy fists hanging loose and deceiving by his side.

He’s the one who had knocked Jesse’s block off, outside the train, leaving him dazed in the dirt blinking spots out of his eyes long enough to stomp hard on his knee. There was something methodical about Millson hurting people, and Jesse knew that if it came down to it he’d fight Dave, he’d chew up Thompson and spit the skinny fuck out- but Millson? Millson would choke the life out of him, literally without blinking.

For now he’d cool his heels in the dark prison cell the gang used with chaotic regularity, adding another notch to his collection on the sandstone wall. And maybe when Millson weren’t around, he’d really dig his teeth in.

Deadlock gang didn’t have a literal prison. They had a mine that had fallen in and crushed a bunch of Chinamen back in 1867, and hadn’t been touched by a living soul since. Whether it was fear of ghosts, or the bankers that owned the pit that kept people away from the area, nobody in the nearby town really knew. But it served as a good hideout for the Deadlock gang, and they’d built the gorge into their own fortress over the past year or so they’d taken residence.

One way in and one way out. Why they called it Deadlock.

Millerson, Thompson, and Dave left; the latter swearing a blue streak and slamming the door shut behind him fit to knock dust from the support beams yawning over Jesse’s head.

He gave them a glance, before venturing to limp his way over to the door, one boot dragging in the ground. His knee was swelling up where Millson had stomped it, getting him off of the train and onto the ground where Dave had crushed his arms behind his back. His shoulder twinged, but it was eclipsed by the pain in his leg and he readily ignored it with the practice of someone who’d had to shake off discomfort for a large part of his life.

No noise outside.

Jesse pressed his face to the splintered wood, dry as sunbleached bone and swollen with weather almost too large to fit in the frame. His ears didn’t pick up anything but the jingle of reins and the sharp whistle of Thompson turning his horse.

Someone clicked their tongue, and hooves retreated, the snorting of horses and the creak of leather getting louder before it slowly retreated. No doubt down the same winding and impossible to see pathway they’d dragged his sorry ass up.

The three men were leaving, taking Jesse’s beat down little mare with them. Mariposa.

“Fuck.” He pulled away to take in a deep rattling breath wet with blood, before pressing his face to the wood again, heart beating a little faster with the first hints of fear as the sounds grew more distant, and the yawning chasm of the caved in mine behind him loomed empty and dark.”Pinche.” His fist landed on the door, and he pushed away with more swearing, staggering unsteadily to his feet.

Great. If he was lucky, they’d remember him in here before tomorrow night and throw some food his way. Or water. Christ.

A bang in the distance, a familiar sound in the gorge. Another shortly followed it and Jesse didn’t even acknowledge it with a twitch.

He did however grit his teeth, blood thick and heavy in his throat and face throbbing. His knee felt like it was likely to give any minute, so he spit another glob up out by the slit of sunlight shining on the floor, and limped his way to the sand striped cave wall by the door.

It was dappled with moss and the burn marks of long ago detonations. It made a cool relief to the Arizona heat, and he slowly lowered himself against it with a creaking groan, wincing at the pressure on his knee. His heartbeat pulsed in it, and for a brief moment dots swam in front of his eyes at the change in position.

Thompson got him better than he thought. Damn.

Another bang in the distance.

 Probably killing the passengers. Jesse thought grimly, licking blood off his chin and thumbing the faint hint of beard on his chin thoughtfully.

He hoped they didn’t use his gun to do it. Not after the fuss he’d made about the whole cocked-up thing in the first place, that got him locked in a goddamn hole in the ground.

Other gangs Jesse didn’t have a problem with. He’d put a bullet between their eyes soon as blink; and do it twice as well as anyone else in Deadlock’s bloodthirsty ranks. He had the tally-board and free drinks to prove it.

Sergio called him a miser, when the mean old cuss was feeling kind. McCree never wasted a bullet.

But that train had been full a nothing but families and unsuspecting working folk. Jesse had stepped onto the train, and met the terrified eyes of a woman, wide and wet looking. Pale around the corners of her pink painted mouth, and hands trembling. Dave had laughed, right behind him, saying something that buzzed in Jesse’s ears nonsensically.

He wasn’t sure why this particular train had hit him so hard. Maybe they’d all hit him this hard. Maybe his head had always buzzed like this, when he thought about it, hot and sick on the inside.

She’d been crouching half in and half out of her seat as if unsure of what to do with the sounds of gunfire and the terrified lowing of cattle going in the car behind them. Where to flee to. Her carpet bag had been open and spilled at her feet, a silk scarf strewn with a bottle of perfume, socks.

Jesse could still smell the car. Warm and alive, sweet hay smell and the pungent odor of cattle cooped up in one place for too long without anywhere to relieve themselves; perfume from one of the bottles at her feet cracking open. And soon after that, the smell of blood, sprayed across the inside of the car and across the dust and fly streaked windows, the hot sting of gunpowder whipping against his face, and the ringing in his ears of someone firing too close making him blink. The afterimage of blonde hair flying out in a wild halo, red mist staining the perfumed air with the smell of copper.

The woman had fallen like something broken. Dave had fired at her right by his ear. Snapped him out of it.

But that wasn’t anything to be thinking about. Not when Sergio was going to come up here soon and bury him up to his neck in fire ants. Or strip him and get him real friendly with an old saguaro.

So Jesse waited.

#######################

The light traveled across the floor, until it was cast against the blocked off back of the cave, when Jesse finally heard the sounds of someone coming back. Surprisingly early. He thought the boys would be hammered by now, swimming with the flush of victory and the large kegs they’d rolled from the trains cargo car. Crickets sang out loud enough to be heard even as far from the brush as the door of the mine was, and Jesse scrubbed dried blood off of his face as he moved from by the door to the back, wisely pressing himself small.

If it was Sergio….

The horses stopped, and there was the scuffled sounds of someone getting off. More sounds, heavy grunting and swearing. Something heavy being dragged.

The door crashed open, and even though he was expecting it, Jesse still jumped.

It was some of the newer guys, brought in from Mexico, and Jesse sneered at the shit pieces hanging off their belt. Didn’t even clean ‘em. Said the best way to clean them was to shoot ‘em. It took both of them just to keep ahold of the big fella they were dragging in, who didn’t even seem to be fighting all too hard with blood curtaining down the side of his face to pool in his collar. A spreading bloom of wetness on black. He was dressed oddly, heavy boots that looked strange with metal bits on ‘em that shone in the fading sunlight. His shirt rode up his neck, heavy knit and black with a hat that looked the same pulled low over a tight, short haircut.

The face was hard to make out behind the blood, but it had all the expression of an executioner's axe. Wide cruel mouth, a neat goatee and a broken nose made him look like a brawler. Jesse couldn’t see the man’s hands behind the thick looking gloves tied in front of him, but Jesse was willing to bet the knuckles were scarred and knobbly.

They threw him down, dust clouding up, and Jesse stayed in his corner, muscles tense as the man got unnaturally fast to his feet, swearing in spanish. But not fast enough- They shut the door behind them, slamming it, and Jesse heard the jingle of chains being threaded into place over the door. God damn.

The man slammed himself against the door with a snarl, fist slamming and boot coming up to kick, and to Jesse’s surprise the heavy wood creaked warningly. He slammed against it again, and Jesse gave a hesitant, “Hey, cuidado amigo, that door ain’t gonna break-”

There was a heavy crack of wood protesting, and then the savage skch-snk of a shotgun being cocked on the other side of the wood. The man stopped, breathing heavily with a rumble deep in his barrel chest and right eye shut against the blood still sheeting down his face.

“Keep it up. You ain’t gonna like what you find on the other side of this door fella. Best sit tight until we can rouse yer friends up outta where they’re holed up.” A pause, and Jesse could just imagine Dave lowering his fat ass onto a crate, shotgun on one knee and smoke-grimey face creased with sweat and grin marks. “Yer probably their leader anyway, or are we wrong?”

The man took a step back, and for a moment Jesse was worried he was going to go for it anyway- even more terrifying, hoped he would. The anger in the stranger's face was enough to repel any bullets, or so Jesse was inclined to think. It sure repelled him, when the one open eye turned in the darkening mine shaft and looked at him.

“Who’s the kid?”

“Dinner, if ya’ll get desperate enough in there.” Dave laughed his wet little giggle, and Jesse snarled best he could back at the man, doing his best to look as if he’d go down like barbed wire if the guy tried anything.

Jesse was dangerous, but this man was something else. Along with knowing how to toe the line Jesse knew how to spot a killer, and it sent him bristling with nerves. A back to the wall made him feel cornered, but it was better than the alternative.

The stranger looked at him coldly, and looked at the door, before giving a disgusted little noise and crossing the room like a stalking panther. Gravel crunched under his boots, and Jesse shrank back along the wall to be as far from him as possible, mouth open to breathe shallowly around his busted nose.

The stranger was all muscle, with his strange woolen looking clothes straining against thick arms and thighs. Built like a fighter, not like those lazy sons a bitches who’d gotten the jump on Jesse.  The man ran his bound hands along the fallen stone and rubble that blocked the tunnel, making a tch noise when it found nothing but splinters from fallen timber and rocks. He kept investigating, the whole length of their prison, like a predator, and Jesse stayed silent long as he could, wary as a scalded cat.

 But he couldn’t keep his tongue long. Not under the circumstances.

“You got a name mister?”

He kept his voice down, and startled himself with how dusty and hoarse it sounded from hours without water; nothing but blood running down his throat. It cracked, and the stranger turned towards him with a lazy shift of attention. It was hard to make out his face in the dark; And it was only going to get darker. Jesse shuddered at the thought.

“The fuck do you care?”

“I don’t.” Damn salty fool. “Go hang yerself, you cranky old bastard.” Jesse retorted sullenly, unable to keep the whipcrack of a reply to himself.

The man stiffened dangerously, and Jesse backpedaled, standing up with a dizzying swell of pain from his knee and bracing himself on his good leg. If he was lucky, he’d be able to get a few pops in before the guy simply crushed his throat. Or beat the tar outta him.

But then, the fella tilted his head consideringly. Like a dog who’d spotted something running through the brush.

“You were on the train.” The stranger said, slowly. There was hardly a hint of accent, but Jesse recognized the faintest burr of spanish, the city slick vowels and consonants all sharp as a crisp five dollar bill. An odd combination, when most mexicans came from down south and picked up the country twang as they went.

“Yeah?” Jesse kept the wall to his back, knee throbbing worse than it had before now that he was standing. If he wasn’t going to be murdered, he made a note to cut the leg of his trousers open to let it get some room to swell. It was messed up good.

“You let that woman get murdered.” The man spit off to the side, rubbing a gloved hand across his face. “More than that woman, as I recall.” Jesse’s heart pumped a beat of ice, and it sank into his stomach like a rock. It was a punch to the gut, and Jesse flinched worse than if someone’d hit him.

 But it wasn’t like he had an excuse.

He said nothing instead, glowering, and the man gave him one last considering look, before turning towards the entrance, crouching so the back wall of rubble was against his back, and settled. His hands worked idly at his bonds while he stared, gaze boring holes into the door.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“None of your fucking business.” Jesse had a rock in his line of sight, hefty but small enough to get in his hand in a hurry. If he had to.

The stranger nodded without looking, like that was what he’d expected.

“Well Fucking Business, my name’s Gabriel Reyes; and if you’re smart, you’re going to help me.”

“I don’t-” Jesse started hotly.

“Callar.” The man’s face didn’t change with anger. It was his default, a low growling authority that had Jesse unconsciously shrinking back, scowling. “My team’s coming soon, and since you seem to have a problem shooting innocent people, I’m going to give you a chance to not get your guts sliced out from chin to dick by my associate.” Jesse’s mouth snapped shut impressively fast. “Comprende? You help us find what we’re here looking for, and I’ll make sure you get out of here alive.” The look Jesse got made it clear he weren’t shit on Gabriel Reyes boot. “We clear?”

Jesse didn’t need long to consider his options. They weren’t exactly varied. He’d rather take the devil he don’t know than the one he did- When that devil was Sergio, he’d be lucky to make it out of this thing dead. Forget alive and whole.

Sergio was going to cut his eye out at the very least. He’d threatened to do it often enough in a whimsical sort of way when Jesse was bugging him, when McCree toed the line between being one of the rowdy gang and being impertinent. It wasn’t an idle threat either- The desert in Deadlock Gorge was littered with the remains of people who’d crossed Sergio. Most times in separate, and varied holes of many shapes and sizes.

Jesse knows. He’d put a few of them there himself.

 He spit into the dirt. ”Entiendo. I get it.”

Reyes quieted, staring at the door, and Jesse sat down himself, bad leg stretched out in front once again with a wince. His trousers were tight and his knee felt hot. It was his last pair, too.

He had his hat, his vest and shirt. Some enterprising bastard had taken his coat in the scuffle, cheap and ill made as it was. The desert air was cold without it, and he shivered in the dirt, glaring balefully across the stone with his arms curled tight to his body for warmth.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been thrown in here. Jesse had been misbehaving since he was born, and joining with a bunch of other miscreants hadn’t changed any of that. First time he got thrown in here it’d been his first week of work, fifteen years old and still not sure where the boundaries were between obedience and rebellion. It’d been a couple years since then, and him and the hole hadn’t been reacquainted in quite  awhile. A few weeks at the least.

But Jesse knew how to be still and be quiet.

So he waited.