#shin violence jack

[missn11]

So ryo is canonically bisexual :0?

well, Anon, I think so due to the fact in Violence Jack Ryo fell in love with Miki and he is always in love with Akira in the manga, manga spin offs and every anime adaption.

But its not outright stated at times, and Go Nagai never has him say he is bisexual or gay, just that he is in love with Akira. And some writers do have Ryo be gay or at least only romantically interested in Akira, for example in Shin Devilman written by Hiroshi Nagai who is Go Nagai's older brother and Go Nagai ofc Illustrated it

and yet in Violence Jack by Go Nagai, Ryo is in love with Miki.

and in Devilman Saga Ryo seems to state that him being intersex informs his bisexuality? I'm not sure but this is what his speak sounds like to me, even if its really messy af

So yeah, unless Go Nagai says one way or the other I would say that all we we know for sure is that Ryo/Satan is Queer af and I don't think its wrong to headcanon him as gay, bisexual, pansexual or demisexual since Akira is the only one he loves and he was friends with him first. The point of him possibly being demisexual could explain why Ryo falls in love with Miki in Violence Jack since he actually got to know her this time round.

But again I don't know how Go Nagai envisioned Ryo's sexuality and he isn't really talking about it either so all we can do is decide for ourselves what to headcanon.

[demonlorddante]

I LOVE YOU DEVILMAN ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[g0dlyunsub]

stitch me.

you were assigned to negotiate with an unsub keeping a group of females hostage, or so you thought. turns out he has a partner and he’s determined to destroy you, all in front of spencer.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: lots of physical violence, blood, mentions of murder, knife threats, biting, general criminal minds themes.

word count :: 1.8k

author’s note :: so… this is my first post, like ever. sorry if it’s poorly written, but i’m all for slightly (?) protective reid and just wanted to write about him :3 accompanying song :: savior by novulent

you knew something was more than just off the moment you were violently thrown into the room. the hostages were huddled near the left corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you as their shoulders shook in panic.

but the hostages were all supposed to be women. brunettes. young women in their twenties. so why was there a young man among them? there was no mention of a young man reported missing in the case files or when garcia had compiled the final list of hostages, so who was he?

must’ve been a gap in the reports, you shook your head and tried to get up, but your left cheek met the cold concrete ground once again.

“don’t move, sweetheart.” his knife was positioned at the nape of your throat, and you felt your breaths become more jagged, more erratic.

“listen, i swear i’ll make it up to you i never-“ your breath gets caught in your throat when the blade presses ever so slightly into your skin.

“shut your pretty little mouth. i know who you are, an undercover cop. if you think you’re so smart coming in here without your wire and gun, you should be prepared for the consequences.” he spits the words with a nasty drawl.

you barely have any time to respond as he lifts you up by the back of your shirt and drags you to an adjacent room. he grabs a fistful of your hair and throws you to the ground forcefully.

“all the other girls in there, they’re nothing compared to you. i’ll take my time with you, sweetheart”. he approaches you while cracking his knuckles and waving his knife around menacingly.

“who’s the boy?” your voice comes out with a slight quiver, but you’re determined not to sound scared. the man lets out a bellowing laugh in response, examining his knife in one hand.

“that’s my buddy jack. you cops surely would have done your research, right?” his hand is now gloved around your throat, and you struggle to loosen his grip with your arms.

this killer had a partner sitting right between the hostages and you and your team had completely missed the signs.

but the adrenaline must have kicked in at the right timing, since you manage to knock your head back into his face and quickly swivel to deliver a kick into his shins and bring him to his knees before he has any time to react with his knife. then you strike him unconscious with a swift elbow to his temple.

you barely have any time to recover, however, when a blow hits the back of your head and your world comes spinning down. before your eyelids slowly close, you manage to steal a glance at the perpetrator — the male hostage had knocked you with a bat and was now trying to shake his unconscious partner awake.

when you open your eyes, you can’t move. your arms are tied behind your back, and your legs are tightly trapped behind the legs of the chair with knots of rope. you were in the main room now with all of the other hostages, and the former hostage was on the ground, still trying to shake his partner awake.

“look what you’ve done, you stupid brat. i swear if you’ve killed him i'm going to SLIT YOUR THR-“ the crescendo of his voice halts with the abrupt ring of the telephone hanging on the wall. he huffs and makes his way to the phone, never losing his eye contact with you. you try to wrestle against the ropes, but your efforts are useless and your energy is at an all time low.

it was your team on the other end. they must have figured out that it was a team of two and not just one.

“your stupid cop knocked samuel cold and split his skin open. send me a medic and maybe i won’t kill all of them here”. jack’s tone is agitated, threatening, and also lost. now that his commander wasn’t in charge, he didn’t know what to do with the hostages, let alone you.

you can barely decipher hotch’s words as they filter through the noise of the phone. “release the women, and i’ll send you all the medical attention you need. we’ll make sure samuel gets the stitches.” his voice is level and controlled. you’ve always trusted hotch and you’ve always trusted your team, but you couldn’t help but let a sliver of anxiousness cloud your thoughts.

and oh god, spencer. how would he cope when you were gone? how would he react at the sight of your cold body, drowned in the blood of the other hostages? tears fill your eyes and you make a poor attempt to swallow them back.

just as you think of your boyfriend, you hear his name through the phone.

“we're going to send in doctor spencer reid to have a look at samuel, alright jack? i want you to let the women go first. the sooner you do this, the sooner samuel gets his help”.

no. no, no, no. NO.

you squirm in your seat, trying to divert jack’s attention.

“wait-“ you try to shout, before jack cuts you off: “SHUT UP! this is all your fault!” he rolls his eyes before he turns around. jack’s knuckles had turned white, maintaining a deathly grip on the telephone.

“fine. but the cop stays with me.” he slams the phone before he rushes back to check on samuel.

the women are released one by one, each frantically making their way out, and you can hear cops outside ushering them and retreating.

it’s only a few minutes later when you hear the familiar sounds of the leather shoes make their way inside of the room. it’s spencer, and he has no wire, no gun, no vest. he’s carrying a medical first aid kit and making his way toward samuel, but not before taking a glance at you.

your world collapses, right there and then. he’s made the same mistake you had by entering without his gun and vest, and you had to give him a signal somehow. if luck was on your side, spencer would make it out alive. but you? your chances are slim.

“hurry up and stitch him up. don’t fuckin look at the other cop.” jack points his knife at spencer, and you let out a hitched yelp. please don’t hurt him. hurt me instead.

spencer gets down to work quickly, examining and tending to the wounds on samuel’s face, and he doesn’t look up in your direction once. jack’s watching him the entire time, tapping his left foot in impatience.

“there. he’s all good, samuel just needs some time to recov-“ spencer raises his arms and turns his back against you, and faces jack as he speaks.

“shut- sit on that chair”. jack motions at spencer to sit down on the chair across from you. you shake your head fervently, yelling constant streams of don’t to him. but he obliges.

“put your arms behind your back,” jack orders, and spencer obliges. you make a desperate attempt and kick at jack to try and distract him. but jack only slaps you in the face with his backhand before aiming the knife at spencer. your boyfriend flinches, and his friendly facade is now masked with a deathly glare.

“don’t move.” jack grabs duct tape and moves swiftly to bind spencer’s hands together behind the chair. you hang your head down. it’s over.

“listen, let spence- let him go. it’s just between you and me, your partner said you only need me”. you shakingly drew in a deep breath as you spoke.

jack chuckles before he makes a step toward you. the next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the hair and he’s delivering punches left and right, hurling screams of expletives and slurs. he’s lost it. and you were going to die.

he positions the knife at your chest, and you know he'll do it. you know he will drive that blade straight to your skin. straight to your heart.

“STOP. STOP! PLEASE!” you hear spencer rocking his chair forwards, and jack finally stops. you can’t breathe with all the blood pooling in your mouth, and you let the excess drawl out of your lips to land on the floor.

“jack, listen to me, please.” spencer looks at you with pleading eyes, silently signaling you to not move. to not agitate jack further.

“no. samuel said he was gonna kill her and i have to finish what he started for him”. jack leans forward and pulls the collar of your shirt outwards, and bites down on your neck. you let out a painful scream, tears running down your face just as more blood leaves the corner of your lips. spencer thrashes in his chair, trying to shift jack’s attention.

“but i stitched him up. samuel will live. let her go. you can take it out on me.” spencer’s voice is desperate, but there’s a tone of controlled execution, because his voice isn’t quivering like before.

at that instant, doors fling open and less than a millisecond later, jack drops to the ground, his knife toppling down to the floor soon after. the team of cops, along with hotch and rossi, make their way toward you and spencer, untying the knots.

between the yells of “we need a medic” and comforting words of “you’re going to be okay” being uttered left and right, you hear spencer’s voice. it’s seemingly amplified for some reason, and you can’t help but smile. your boyfriend rushes towards you, sweeping your hair and cradling you back and forth in his arms.

“you’re so brave, you’re so brave y/n.” his voice comes out stifled and hoarse, and you feel him grip your hand even tighter.

“i’m so sorry i let you go in there alone. i’m so sorry i let him do that to you, torture you and almost-“ his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he lightly kisses you right above the dried cut where jack had attacked you.

you turn your head ever so slightly to get a better look at spencer. tears coat his eyelashes and his mouth shakes as he talks. a soft groan rolls out from the back of your throat, and you snuggle deeper into spencer’s hold.

“keep… talking. i want… to hear… you.” you manage to let out, and spencer’s eyes widen.

“of course. i can do that. i’ll keep talking to you, y/n. focus on my voice, can you do that?” he asks with a slight squeeze to your palm. you give a slow nod in return.

that’s all he needs, because when the medics transfer you into the ambulance, he’s sitting right beside you, not letting go of your hand, and whispering nothing but bittersweet apologies.

his voice is the only stitch you need.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chapter 3

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

WARNING: mentions of sex, violence, slight swearing

chapter summary: Touya tells his therapist the moment he decided he should date her for real.

a/n: It was an emotional roller coaster as I wrote this chapter. I was listening lately to Chappell Roan's Casual and it literally made me cry

masterlist

Fuyumi was Touya's next visitor, and he was silently gobbling up her homemade soba, noting how she got more adept in cooking than before. Nah, he just was not home for 7 years. As if he would know if she improved or not. Only Natsuo and Shouto could tell the truth.

While he was busy eating, Fuyumi kept narrating random stories of Natsuo finally proposing to his girlfriend. However, he has decided to remove himself from the family register, opting to adapt his future wife's family name to theirs. As much as Fuyumi wanted to scold him, she knew this would put Natsuo at ease. He didn't want to be associated with the sins of their family, hence his conclusion after Touya's return. She also added that she already left her teaching job for something similar that pays more. Plus, there had been a ruckus lately that media outlets got wind of Touya's return. To this day, they are still wanting confirmation if Enji will finally step down as the CEO and appoint Touya as his successor.

"Dad made sure no one would know you're here. He made a public announcement that you were visiting a few relatives as part of your reunion with them," she assured him, then remembered something. "Oh, speaking of, Shouto visited you last time, right? He didn't give you a hard time?"

Touya slurped his noodles, gulped the last bite, and looked at her straight. "He brought me candy."

Fuyumi clapped her hands in glee, though a bit awkward. She has never been around Touya ever since he told her about how they were all failures. "H-He did, huh? Did you like them?"

Touya frowned. He's still not on good terms with Shouto yet, but he's not mad at him either. He ate the candies as proof of that. "I don't like the beer ones. They taste too sugary and sour."

"Okay. I'll take note of that."

Time ticked by, and the agony constricted in his throat. They used to be in sync, almost in tune with each other's minds. It was his fault and his immature ways of belittling her even though he was generally weak against her and their mother. There was no way he was hurt whenever he hurt his siblings, especially her. Fuyumi was his precious sister, and she stood up as their makeshift mother when all things went south even when she didn't have to.

"Touya-nii, I heard what you did in high school," she started hesitantly, "you know... the reason you got suspended before you ran away."

Touya tensed at that, holding his breath in shock. He wanted to bury that memory in secret. She didn't want her to know what he did before he decided to pack up jack shit and run away from all this. After a few seconds, he heard her giggling and said to him:

"Actually, I kicked him on the shin when I saw him." Then she glared and hissed in a whisper, "Don't tell the others, okay? I skipped a class just so I could run on him in the hallway back then."

There was silence, and then Touya chuckled, light humor coming from his lips before it turned into full-on laughter, embarrassing Fuyumi who was already flustered as it is.

"W-Wha—Touya-nii! Why are you laughing?! It's not funny!" she chided, pouting like she did when he successfully laid out his pranks on her.

He sighed in contentment, the laughter dying as he placed his chin on one hand and smirked.

"You really are my sister, after all," he snickered, sending him a mischievous grin as she huffed in annoyance. "So what happened? Was he able to walk afterward?"

Fuyumi only shrugged, seeming not to care about how this jerk was doing or if he was even alive up until now. "I don't know. I just heard people say he skipped the whole day because he couldn't walk back to class."

Touya whistled. "Damn. Now I suddenly feel bad for all his unborn children."

"Shut up, you!"

And they talked some more about mundane things, how Touya was coping with everything happening in the facility, even secretly told her he carried an mp3 player just so he could listen to his girlfriend's voice. "I bet it's all her moaning your name or something perverted." "Fuyumi-chan, I am not that perverted." "Whatever~" He also found out about their mother taking up painting, so Enji bought this one big studio so she could paint and relax; and also the fact that Shouto was dating someone from his class, someone named Momo or something. He has yet to introduce her formally to the family, though.

"How about your girlfriend, Touya-nii?" Fuyumi suggested. "When can we meet her?"

"When the time is right," he replied dryly, but honestly, he didn't know. Touya left her after that night, and he knew his girlfriend was an understanding woman, and she had lots of patience. He just hoped she would still be there since he wasn't writing her anything, even to the point of not disclosing his main residence and the facility he was in.

"By the way, is there anything else you need before I go?" Fuyumi asked.

"Make me soba again," he requested with a soft smile. "I missed this."

"Okay."

"And also..." Touya frowned, looking away in embarrassment. "Ask Shouto to bring more of those cigarette candies. Don't tell him I like them, though."

Fuyumi giggled at his silly behavior. Some things never really change. "Of course. Anything else."

"Fuyumi-chan."

"Hm?"

Touya sighed, looking at her straight in the eye, wanting to convey his sincerity. He'd been holding it since he left them years ago.

"I'm sorry about what I said before... about us being failed creations. You're perfect, Fuyumi-chan, just the way you are."

Fuyumi held her breath, her hands on her chest as she took in his words. Touya apologized to her. He apologized... after seven years. She knew he didn't have to because all she understood at the time was him being frustrated and mad at their father for neglecting them, and that he was just venting out his feelings on her. That's why Fuyumi held it in. All the responsibility of holding the family together was pushed onto her shoulders, especially when Touya left. She knew their family was broken beyond repair, and yet he held her own feat, ensuring she would get them all to eat dinner together or spend time just a bit.

And now... now it felt like Fuyumi could finally be at ease and care about herself more.

"Jeez, you didn't have to," she berated him, wiping a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "I already forgave you a long time ago, Touya-nii."

Touya softened at that, finally coming to terms with her. Afterwards, he handed her a slip of paper, and it contained a list of items.

"Burn a hole in Father's credit card with those things and buy yourself your favorite things. I need them."

Fuyumi scanned the items, noting how Touya was very specific with the brand name of the soap he wanted as well as the perfume. It was odd, considering how her brother had certain favorites when it came to the hygiene department. Nonetheless, if he wanted it, then he would have it.

"Got it. I'll bring them here next time."

------

"Did you like her when you first met her?" the therapist asked. "Like, as in you had a crush or was attracted."

Touya contemplated the perfect answer since he had a lot on his mind when he first met her. He could even go on and on about "Oh, yeah, sure. She was pretty, and I think she knows she's pretty, but she's not the 'all heads will turn over' pretty. She was just alright. And when I first saw her, she was always dressed up like she was in spring, and she was all meek and stuttering I thought a cat got her tongue so twisted like that or something. But I wasn't really attracted to her like that. She was a lot of trouble, given her situation with her ex and all, so I really didn't like her that much. Then again, she was always nice to me, and she didn't complain that much. Plus, she minds her own business, so I don't mind being around her."

But instead of telling his therapist what was on his mind, he just merely said. "Not really. She's troublesome."

"Okay," the therapist nodded. "So what made you decide to date her if you find her troublesome?"

"The situation just called for it. At that time, she was done mourning about her breakup with her ex, and I have been staying over more than usual at her place. One day, she asked what kind of relationship we had because she was weirded out at the fact that I knew she liked me and she didn't like it when there were no labels. I didn't seem to mind her, so I said we should go for it."

Now that he heard himself say it, Touya couldn't believe how simpleminded he was about declaring their relationship like it was some kind of one-and-done deal or some simple task he needed to get done. He could've given her a bit of romance instead of just dating her just for the sake of it.

She deserved all my love, after all.

"So you took advantage of the situation?"

"Hmm... kind of."

No, that wasn't it. There's more to why he decided to be with her. He was a bit late when he fell for her (or rather when he realized he was in love with her), so there was a side of him that regretted how he acted like some kind of constipated teenage boy whenever she would try doing lovey-dovey stints. Well, who could blame him? Touya has dated a few girls before (with only one of them lasting for about a year, he guesses? Ah, he doesn't know anymore), so being with her was new. He could even say she was a lot more experienced in dating than him, which kind of sucked because he had sort of "explored" more in the dating field than her.

"At that time, I thought I wanted to be there for her."

"Why do you think you wanted to be there for her?"

Silence.

"Do you feel indebted because she let you stay over even if you weren't her boyfriend at the time?"

Silence.

"Were you pitying her after everything that happened between her and her ex-boyfriend?"

Touya shook his head.

"Did you feel like she needed you at the time?"

"I..."

Did she really? Was he really needed at the time? She never said anything. When she was having her own silent pity party, she had acted as usual, and it did not occur to him at all if a lot was going on in her mind about her ex or if she was regretting her decision to dump his cheating ass. She never fully opened up to him about what exactly happened. She just informed him that she had already broken up with that cheater; that was all. Then weeks passed, and everything was normal, except for her and her unusual silence.

Then one day, she suddenly asked him, "Hey, Dabi-kun? Umm... what are we?"

He had to turn off the television to focus on her as she sat on the other end of the couch, her hands fiddling with her skirt as she shyly breathed out to calm herself. She must've been thinking hard about opening this topic to him, considering the way she was trying to articulate the right words.

"You know about my feelings for you, and ever since I broke up with..." She never dared to mention his name; she wanted him out of their lives already, "you know who, you've been staying here a lot. It's not like I don't want you here. I just... well... I just need clarification, I guess?"

"You guess?" Touya raised a brow, observing her movements and waiting for her to finally get it over with.

"Well, I don't know what to call you. A roommate, perhaps?" Then she shook her head at the term. "That's not it. We're not even sharing a room."

"Oh." Touya smirked teasingly, scooting a bit closer, but not too much. There was still a safe distance between them. "So you want me to share a room with you? How bold."

She instantly flushed at his words, hearing him chuckle lightly as she tried her hardest to be direct. "W-Well... I can't call you a friend. I don't want you as a friend. But I don't like being in a situation where I don't know what exactly we are to each other."

"Then go ahead."

Huh?

"Go ahead and do what you want. I don't mind if we date."

Now that got her scrambling towards him on her knees, suddenly clasping his hands in hers. "R-Really? I can call you my boyfriend and I am now your girlfriend?"

Touya was stunned at the physical touch but nonetheless maintained his composure. "Just so you know, you're gonna regret this. I'm still not gonna give you what you want."

I cannot give you romance. I'm not the best person for that. I don't have an inkling about love and all that stuff. I don't do boyfriend things. That's why, you can back out now. Just find someone else and let me go because I couldn't do it. I'm a jackass for not wanting to be with you yet staying.

"Then, we are dating."

"Okay."

She brought his hands to her cheeks and then laid a warm kiss on his skin affectionately. For the first time, he saw her wear a genuine smile, something she never did. It was that day when he felt so special to see that kind of rare face, and it was only for his eyes—him and no one else's.

"Okay."

"All my life, I wanted to be chosen. I wanted to be given special treatment because I was someone's favorite. She gave that feeling to me. There has never been a day when she would make me feel otherwise. For her, even if I never gave her the best things or even if all I could do was be angry and vent out, I was the perfect person she could ask for. And I knew the consequences of her choosing me, and I knew they would all be not good for her. It didn't sit well with me to leave her alone."

"So, it wasn't love. You didn't love her. You wanted the feeling she gave you."

"At first," Touya admitted. "Eventually, I did. It was not the hardest thing. She became so important to me I don't want to lose her."

"That's why you're here, in this facility, even if you really didn't want to."

"... Yes."

------

"So far away from the start to the end...

And everything seems so pale and blue...

Worst come along to despair...

Come and take me with you far away..."

Touya lay on his bed, listening to the same song he plays whenever he wants sleep to take over him. Remembering her should've brought him joy, a sense of reason in living in this world full of pain and misery; but it only made him realize how much he deprived her of the very thing she wanted from the start.

Love.

Love fucking hurts so bad, he thought, blue eyes staring at the ceiling as he imagined her hovering on top of him. In his mind, she would tuck her hair beneath her ear and smile lovingly at him. And then, she would touch his cheek and kiss his forehead, saying "Wake up, Dabi. Food's already prepared on the table." But then, for him, at the time, it felt like she was loving a stranger, not him. After all, Dabi was not his real name. He was Todoroki Touya, hence his reasoning that she did not really love the real him until that night when he allowed himself to be free from all the hate he carried, to be foolish and naive of all the hurt and just let her embrace him.

"Say my name for me. My name is Touya. Don't call me Dabi. You said you knew Dabi's not my real name, right?"

"Touya."

He kissed her cheek. "One more," he whispered in her ear, wrapping her legs around his hips so he could comfortably settle her on his lap.

Her arms held his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck. The more he peppered kisses on her skin, the more unbearable the desire she had for him.

"Todoroki."

"Eh?"

"Todoroki Touya," he revealed, pulling away to look straight at her. He rubbed his thumb across her lip, feeling the softness against his finger as he was tempted to take a dive and savor her sweet taste. Touya would have to wait, though, until she could finally remember his real self and accept every inch of him. His name. The white hair. His blue eyes. The burnt scars on his skin. The demons inside his brain telling him everything was too good to be true. That this was all just a ploy; a good dream he never had, and soon, she will disappear and not remember him.

"Please remember that. That's my real name. Todoroki is written as roaring fire, and Touya means lamp arrow. That's my name." Touya tightened his embrace around her waist, and it made her swoon, letting his breath ghost over his skin as a mark of his territory. "Say my name for me."

"Todoroki Touya," she repeated to his hair, hearing him sigh in relief as he arranged their position, entering her slowly as she moaned again, "T-Todoroki... T-Touya—AH!"

He chuckled, looking up at her with mirth as he moved slowly to let her adjust. "That's one way of saying my name."

"T-Touya!" She only covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. "That's so mean."

He removed her hands from her face and leaned closer, his lips barely touching hers as he said with a teasing grin, "But you love me, don't you?"

She didn't deny his claim, further letting him close as he claimed her lips in a searing kiss, angling his head so he could take her deeper and have a taste of her heaven. "You know I love you. I always do."

Touya kissed her lips lightly. "That's great; because I love you too."

And then she cried so much it could turn into a waterfall. Touya knew it was all worth the wait, and yet, he could only spend that one night before having to leave her for her sake. If he wanted to give her love, then he would have to face his demons first. As he listens to the song again, he reaches out a hand and imagines it was her face he was holding.

"Please wait for me."

Silence.

"Okay?"

------

Shouto visited him three days after Fuyumi did, handing him three boxes of the fake cigarettes he had given before. In exchange, Touya slipped an envelope with a specific name and address. Along with it were a few stems of baby's breath attached with tape on the front to seal the letter. Shouto wanted to comment on the creativity even if the style looked somewhat like a dork would do. Then again, this was a treatment center, not an art supplies shop, and Touya had to manage with what he could get his hands on.

"Please drop that letter to that specific address in person," Touya instructed carefully, emphasizing the last part. "Do not send it to a local postal office. Just give it to the person directly. Understand?"

Shouto read the name at the back. 

"Who's this?" his younger brother asked.

Touya opened the pack of fake cigarettes and took one stick between his teeth like he did a few months ago. Unlike the nicotine flavor, the taste of mint and chocolate coated his tongue. "She's my girlfriend. We haven't talked ever since I returned to the main house. Might as well inform her I'm still alive and we're still dating."

"Oh." Shouto blinked in realization. Touya had mentioned when he returned to the main house that he stayed with someone for two years and added that it was a girl. Of course, it did not take a genius to figure out he was talking about his girlfriend, making their mother so proud that their oldest brother had found someone to be with during his hardest times.

However...

Touya-nii had never talked about his girlfriend to us. Did not even say her name or where she lives or her job. But Fuyumi-nee said Touya-nii carries an mp3 player with his girlfriend's voice.

"What if I don't meet her there?" Shouto asked for confirmation. "You said you haven't talked since you returned."

Touya jeered at the idea. "That's a load of bull. She won't do that. She said she's mine, so she's mine, and I'm hers."

He sounds like his younger self, Shouto blankly thought, staring at the envelope in his hand. "But why me? You could've entrusted this to Natsu-nii or Fuyumi-nee."

"No thanks." Touya could only imagine Natsuo and Fuyumi throwing jabs at him for being so lovey-dovey with her or berating him for not contacting her for so long. "You're the one who knows me so well. I know I can trust you with that."

Shouto had to keep the envelope in the inside pocket of his denim jacket.

"Fine. You owe me soba."

"Sure. Once I get out of here."

"No. I want it now."

"Just blow from Father's card. Thank me later."

Afterwards, Shouto handed a bag of items that Touya specifically requested from Fuyumi, and he noticed that the first thing Touya took out was the perfume. Actually, Shouto was with Fuyumi when they bought it, and when they took a whiff, they marveled at how good it smelled. "Smells like fresh laundry and Sunday morning," they alluded. But it was a lot different from their brother. Touya's range of perfumes did not smell like this one.

But for some reason, seeing as how Touya held a small smile when he took a sniff, Shouto thinks maybe his brother's tastes might have changed in ways they never knew.

------

The next day, Shouto went to the address mentioned in the letter, making sure he as the correct room number and all that stuff. He pressed the doorbell once. No answer. Another press. Still no answer. He sighed, settling for knocking on the door rudely to alert the person inside. And when no one was still answering, he made the banging sound louder.

"Can I help you? I'm the landlord here."

Shouto looked to his left and saw an old woman carrying a small basket of laundry. At first, she seemed overjoyed but when Shouto turned his full face to her, she became disheartened, setting aside her basket on the ground.

"I'm sending a letter to someone," he said, taking out the envelope. "Her name is... My brother specifically told me to give it to her in person."

"Oh!" The woman clasped her hands in glee. "No wonder I thought you were familiar. Your left side looked a lot like her boyfriend. Tell me, is your brother doing okay?"

Shouto was dumbfounded at what he heard as he touched the side that had his red hair and blue eyes. My left side... looks a lot like... Touya-nii? But Touya-nii has white hair, and I don't have piercings.

"A-Ah, he's doing okay," he replied, trying to be polite but also not mentioning his brother undergoing rehab and therapy. News had been circulating online and if word got out that Touya was alcohol- and cigarette-dependent, the media and paparazzi would disturb their family's peace.

The woman sighed in relief. "I really thought they broke up. She said she hadn't received anything from him ever since he found another job somewhere away from Shizuoka."

Shouto could only nod, not knowing what to say considering he couldn't divulge more information about his brother. "Umm... is she not there?"

"Ah, forgive me! She went out earlier for her doctor's appointment. She'll be back later."

Shouto held the envelope in his hands. While the thought of asking the landlord to give it to woman sounded good, he remembered Touya's words.

"Just give it to the person directly. Understand?"

"Maybe I can give her the letter," she offered but Shouto shook his head.

"I'll come back another time," he replied and went on his merry way.'

He walked down the apartment and trudged down the street when he saw a pregnant woman with long dark hair holding an umbrella in one hand while the other had a bag of oranges. Seeing her face from afar, Shouto noted that the woman looked pretty (not as beautiful as his Momo, of course), her whole appearance donning a spring fashion with her summer dress and flip flops. She adjusted the loose hair from her face, causing her to accidentally drop the bag of oranges. Good thing, Shouto was there to help, quickly helping her pick up the oranges as her condition prevented her from doing so.

"I'll help you take this with you," he said.

The pretty woman was ecstatic, sighing as she rubbed a hand on her belly. It wasn't that big yet, but it was visible to anyone's eye. As they were walking, Shouto couldn't help but notice her familiar scent; the same one he and Fuyumi bought for Touya. And to further confirm his suspicion, they were standing in front of her door, the same door he had knocked on earlier.

He glanced at the woman beside him, carefully memorizing her features. Again, long dark hair with the most vivid hazel eyes that shine so bright. Feminine features that resemble spring and a warm smile. The scent of fresh laundry and a lazy Sunday morning. Also, the slightly visible bump on her stomach. Maybe, she could be the answer to his dilemma.

"I can carry on from here," she chirped, then bowed politely. "Thank you, sir."

"Are you...?" he asked.

Please say yes. Please let it be you.

She nodded in surprise. "T-That's me. Is there a problem?"

With determination, Shouto took out the letter from his jacket and handed it to her. When she saw the familiar handwriting on the back and the stems of the baby's breath taped on the front, her heart pounded in anticipation. She looked back at Shouto.

"I'm Todoroki Shouto, and I'm here on behalf of my brother, Todoroki Touya."

She breathed hard at the revelation. So, it was true. Touya never backed out on what he said in his previous letter before he left. He wasn't letting her go. He will come back for her, and make her his again. As she touched her pregnancy bump, Shouto could notice the unease in her expression.

"Can I come in?" he asked. "I just—"

She pened the door. "I'll have tea ready for you."

The world started spinning for her again.

next chapter

masterlist

tagging: @skiiyoomin, @crookedherringcolorclod, @suksatoru

(feel free to message me if you want me to tag you here too)

[heretherebedork]

Why is High School Frenemy doing catharsis so much better than J&J? How!? Why!? Both Shin and Saint are obviously invested in their relationship and they feel like equals and they're both working on this and they both care and even when they lash out you can feel their love for each other and the care they have for each other despite all of it.

Shin constantly pushing Saint away was still more loving than Hoy having to step between Jack and Joke when it looked like he might get violent. Because Shin's violence still came from a specific place of hurt and pain that it doesn't feel like Jack can claim.

And Shin had a better reason to be pissed considering Saint did everything directly to him and without trying specifically to help him!

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

romanticide

TW: Blood, violence, angst, gun, bruises, kinda flirty Ig I'm so back babyyy

The quiet was supposed to be relaxing. But all it served was to tie knots in the hero's stomach and force the muscles in his shoulders to taut.

Maybe it was his fault he liked loud music and busy restaurants and never quite minded traffic noise. And yet his job shoved him in all the dark, silent places imaginable.

As another added bonus, any slight deviation of focus from his work would essentially lead to some sort of deadly disaster, which was why the hero's gun was immediately cocked and in his hand when he heard a twig snap too far away for it to be his own foot.

A soft laugh made its way into his ears, his jack-rabbiting pulse managing to speed up so ridiculously it seemed his arteries would burst with the pressure.

"Watch your step," the villain smirked, and he wasn't amused in the slightest.

Normally the hero had something snarky to respond with ready on his tongue, but not today. Not when even breathing felt bloody exhausting. "What do you want?" he breathed out instead, sounding defeated before the fight even started.

The villain looked mortified, as though the hero had already fired his gun at her. "What's got you in such a mood?" she questioned, poking a finger at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Are you here to fight or pretend to bond with me?"

He had to admit he was surprised with just how fast the criminal had wrestled the gun out of his hand. She was getting more efficient lately, and it unnerved her enemy.

"Pretend?" she asked incredulously, the theatrics giving the hero enough time to get his weapon back, except he only put it back on the holster on his hip.

The villain was arrogant enough to be sure the hero wouldn't ever go for a kill shot, and he despised that fact.

In another reflection of most of their fights, the villain threw a punch and the hero countered just as fast, though he noticed he'd barely managed to defend himself in time. Only for the villain to aim a kick to his shins he didn't block quickly enough. She got stronger, her silhouette more muscled than he remembered under the suit. And the realisation made his face burn in a way he could discern wasn't from the fight.

He was losing his goddamn grip, and the villain, sharp as a knife, had definitely noticed. "What's up with you? You're not quite yourself tonight, darling," she crooned, aiming a punch to the hero's jaw this time.

Except he caught her arm with such force, his grip bruising, twisting it painfully away from him, failing to disguise a small smirk playing on his lips as the villain gasped sharply. "Better?" he asked, the smirk morphing into a strangely soft smile as he watched the villain struggle before finally managing to get his hand off.

It still surprised him how well the villain took the pain, grinning radiantly at him. "Considering I'll feel much less guilty destroying the masterpiece you have for a face, sweetheart, it's a yes from me."

The hero cursed under his breath. He would much rather the villain carve his heart out than make it beat so much faster, than let a warm, pleasant and yet tantalisingly painful feeling seep across his chest and spread through the rest of him like wildfire.

The hero loved control like he loved the air he breathed, so the way the villain seemed to toy with him, the way his mind seemed to wander to places he was too scared to visit was practically driving him into madness. And yet he wasn’t even sure he completely hated the idea of letting go.

The villain, of course, never failed to notice the slight shift in the hero's demeanour, the slight uncertainty in his moves, followed by a strangely powerful vigour, as though trying to compensate for the lack of gusto earlier.

She struck her fist into the hero's nose, drawing blood and smirking at how it threw him off.

Just his bloody luck that the villain had to be wearing a bunch of stupid rings on her knuckles.

The villain swore softly, her lips curling upwards into a malicious smile. “You didn't like that much, did you, love?” 

Any trace of timidness from before had been completely obliterated as the hero swung his leg directly into the villain's with a snarl, and she fell back onto the pavement with a pained groan, the thinnest streak of crimson making its way down her forehead.

The hero hated himself for the strange pang of guilt leaving a palpable ache in his chest as the villain struggled only slightly to get off the ground, staring at him with a strange mix of frustration and awe.

“I'm guessing that's a no?” she asked, mock-innocence lining her tone, as she aimed for the hero's throat, only for him to block.

“I don't know what about me gives you the idea that being punched into oblivion is one of my favourite pastimes,” he retorted, unable to resist the urge to roll his eyes, incredibly close to landing a punch on the villain's jaw.

Only for her to catch his fist and flash him a brilliant smile that practically lit up the dark sky around him. “You've been training harder,” she said, like it was an indisputable truth, “and while I should probably be upset by this knowledge, it's making you even more gorgeous, so I'll bite.” 

The hero lost focus as his breathing grew even shallower at the way the villain looked at him, like she couldn't get enough of him, like he was priceless artwork that needed to be admired.

“What do you want?” the hero repeated again, feeling so ridiculously stupid, the blood rushing to his cheeks with a hot sting and leaving them an embarrassing shade of red.

He was so alone, and he hated it, so desperate for this kind of feeling, this kind of high that forced the air out of his lungs, that let flames lick his body and left his mind an incoherent mess, that let his tongue twist uselessly in his mouth and struggle to form any words. The set of emotions only the villain had been capable of making him feel lately.

But he was also terrified of his own addiction to the feeling, scared of its chains making their way around his neck and choking the life out of him slowly because the hero had been so usable before, so goddamn easy to sway, no matter how much he tried to argue he wasn't.

The villain laughed, sardonic and impatient, like the hero was missing some very obvious piece of information, swinging a fist at his chest that felt strangely harsher than usual. “I've never taken you for a fool, sweetness,” the villain half-snarls, sounding more desperate than angry, “why do you think I expose my damned feelings to you every time we fight? Why do you think I keep trying? Because I honestly don't know what you want at this point, Hero. I'm almost sure even you don't know what you want.” 

And the villain didn't hit him again, hesitating instead like she wasn't quite sure what to do with her hands. He's never seen her look hurt before, shame written all over her face like a sad story.

“I don't know what I want?” the hero asked, something in him finally snapping, the terror replaced with something new, something stronger, as his fingers wrapped themselves around the villain's arm, pulling her up against his chest, drawing a soft, almost shocked gasp out of her.

He'd been shoving his desires and hopes into a box and locking them up for so long, and the cruelty of the resulting pain seemed to outweigh the fear by far too much for it to be ignored.

“I want your arms around my neck, and my lips on your jaw,” he started, going through with both those things, a mix of gentle and passionate, and he tilted the villain's chin up with one hand, his thumb stroking softly across her jaw.

She's beautiful; bright green eyes with dark lashes, almost feline in nature and luscious waves of sandy hair that framed her face gorgeously and even the streak of blood could barely distract from the villain's undeniable beauty.

“I want to lose my breath when you talk to me, and I want that fire in my blood you light like a matchstick. I want to give you my heart and trust you not to break it, just like I want yours to love.” 

The villain didn't say anything, going quiet for a moment before wrapping her arms completely around the hero's torso and pulling him into a hug. “I will find whoever it is that broke your heart, and I will kill her.” 

And when the hero let out a soft laugh, he could literally feel the villain frown against him. “You deserve all the love in life, Hero.” And she held onto his shoulders to reach, pressing her lips into a soft kiss on the crown of his dark hair, and  then another to his collarbone, warm breath tickling his skin and drawing a soft laugh out of him. 

There is no love without danger, no life without risk. No matter how comfortable catering to fear may seem, it is no different from holding onto a blunt knife; slow to wound and yet still deep to scar. More often than not, you are your own jailer, your past your prison. Love may not conquer all, but it has always outweighed fear by a long shot.

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Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[ravcns]

Cool With You

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you are hardcore crushing on your coworker not knowing he feels the same and everyone else sees it but you two

tw: usual criminal minds stuff, violence, choking, near death experiences

You were waiting to get coffee; the kitchenette was quite crowded since everyone needed it. Your attention was on him though as he added two packs of sugar to his coffee. Then you saw something out of the ordinary he was making another cup of coffee, adding a generous amount of creamer to it. He was walking your way you hoped your staring went unnoticed. “Coffee the way you like it; enough creamer until the drink turns almost white.” Spencer said with a smile, handing it to you. Upon taking a sip you realized it tastes similar to when you would make it. You thanked him, hoping that drinking the coffee would hide the blush growing on your face. The team watched on as the two of you avoided eye contact.

It seemed the only people oblivious to your secret crushes were you two. For a team of profilers they put it together quite fast; the lingering stares when the other wasn’t looking, small gestures, things you both remembered about eachother that even the team didn’t, and of course the most obvious sign was the way you both clammed up when somebody asked you about one another. But of course it was chalked down to, “We are just really good friends.” Neither of you wanted to admit it for some reason and it was painful to watch, even for Hotch. When Spencer came over to play with Jack the ever so observant kid could see it too. “You like Y/n.” Jack said, putting a puzzle piece down. This caught Spencer off guard. He quickly replied, “I do not she is my colleague and good friend; I respect her.” Though he did stumble over a few words, causing Hotch to laugh from the kitchen; Spencer wanted to crawl in a hole. “How’s the puzzle going?” Hotch asked, coming out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee for himself and water for Spencer. “Daddy, Uncle Reid has a crush on Y/n!” The energetic child stated. Aaron even cracked a smile at this, “Oh really?” He said. “Hotch I don’t.” Spencer responded. “I don’t know. What do you think buddy?” He picked up his son and asked. “You do too!” Jack stuck his tongue out and laughed. Hotch wondered how you both were so unaware.

“Watch your step.” Reid warned, guiding you up the hill. “Thanks Spence.” You said. The current case at hand was catching a serial killer and the team had him cornered. Problem being was that his cabin is at the top of a steep hill; no vehicles could get up or down and the path was hard to walk. When the team finally had arrived they quickly busted down the front and back doors. You and JJ took the basement, “Clear and we found the victim, she’s alive.” JJ informed the team. You left her with the young girl and walked up the steps catching the guy making a break for the back door. “I got eyes on Carter he is making a run for it, pursing him now.” You said, sprinting after him. “Alex Carter, FBI; You’re under arrest for the murders of Lauren Palmer, Emilia Cruz, Morgan Lee, and the kidnapping of Brianna King. You have the right to remain silent anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” You had him that’s the thing the dude was handcuffed now. “We just found three unidentified bodies in the attic.” Morgan said into the comms. “Three?” You repeated back. “Yeah, Hotch and Reid are coming out to you now.” He responded.

That’s when the unsub started to struggle. He began moving erratically, irritating you. “We can add refusal to cooperate to the list of you keep struggling.” You stated. He just looked at you with this sick and unsettling expression, suddenly you could hear the sound of handcuffs breaking. Then he pushed back against your body and kicked you in the shin, causing you to lose your hold on his arms. Immediately Carter was on top of you, squeezing his hands on your neck. All that could come out strangled gasps for air. “Step away from the agent, Carter.” Hotch said when him and Reid arrived. Spencer just watched in horror as you struggled to breathe and tears streamed down your face. “Think about your sister Alex, would she have wanted this?” Hotch asked, trying and hoping to find some reason. It didn’t seem to get through and a shot rang out in the air, alerting the remaining team members in the cabin. Reid immediately rushed to you, pulling you out from under the unsubs slack body. His gun was long forgotten. Hotch was thankful it was only a shot in the arm that shocked the guy who realized what had happened. Once again he was handcuffed this time by Hotch who said, “No funny business; you’re also under arrest assault on a federal agent.”

Spencer stuck with you from helping your trembling figure down the hill to sitting with you in the back of the ambulance ride. Even in the emergency room he refused to leave your side. “Spence I’m fine.” You told him for the billionth time while grabbing your stuff and exiting with him following behind you. The team immediately greeting you in the waiting room voicing their concerns and asking how you were doing. “They said the bruising should fade in a few weeks.” You informed them. Hotch inquired since it was protocol after all that you take time off but it was declined. “Aaron if I get put on paperwork I’ll lose it, please.” His mouth formed into a straight line before he answered, “Alright then, take it easy.”

It a few weeks later during one of your movie nights with Reid that he couldn’t take it anymore. “How are you doing?” He asked with a genuine look on his face as the random horror movie you selected played. “I’m good, why?” You responded. “Y/n, I know all your tells.” He stated. “What?” You just stared at him. “Playing with the left front strand of your hair when you are in thought, you bite your lip when you’re upset or annoyed, and when lying you twist the bracelet on your wrist atleast two times as if it irritates you like you’re doing right now.” Spencer said, causing you to stop yourself mid second turn. He continued, “I’m a profiler but first I’m your friend. Did you not think I wouldn’t notice somethings wrong?” At the word friend it felt like your heart was being squeezed and you had to stop yourself from biting your lip. He really was right about your tells and you didn’t know why but this upset you. “And you’re upset now that I said something.” Reid stated the obvious. “I’m not.” You responded. “Then why are you getting defensive?” He questioned, causing you to sigh in defeat. “I think I’m going to head home now.” You said. Spencer looked at your figure sadly as you grabbed your stuff.

He was tired of dancing around his feelings; you not being aware of the fact that other people care and just continuously putting yourself in dangerous positions. He desperately wanted you to know that you didn’t need to do those things. “I don’t want to watch you just walk away.” He said in this small voice, causing you to pause. Spencer took this as an invitation to continue, “There are so many people who care about you and just want to be here for you, I care. I can’t let you leave and ice me out because your too stubborn to let someone in.” You started moving again to leave and this time he stopped you. “I want to be the person you lean on when you’re in pain, help your realize that you don’t need to go through these things alone, or the fact you don’t need to prove yourself to the team or me.” Reid stated, looking you in the eye. “Y/n I think-”, He stopped himself then looked like he was in thought. “No I know that I am in love with you, Y/n L/n, and I have been since that day in Los Angeles.” Spencer spoke with clarity in his voice.

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day twenty

@ailesswhumptober 20 — enemy/stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.” ↳ manhattan, circa late 1899 word count; 1.6k

cw; violence, abuse, involuntary age regression

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Jack doesn't notice Davey's stopped until he goes to turn the corner, headed down to their last selling spot of the day, and realises suddenly that he's alone.

It's getting late and they've only got a few more papes left to shift, easy work when they're moving locations so Jack can hawk a different made-up headline, and Jack had been looking forward to being done with it. Wants to get home early — early by his own standards — but now he's forced to stop and spin around, bag swinging at his side, to try and find Dave in the emptying street. There's a flash of irritation to it, frustration that Davey never seems to be as worn-down as he is — has an easier life — but it softens, helplessly, the moment Jack finds him.

Davey's stood anxiously at the mouth of an alleyway back up the street, hands clasped at the strap of his own World bag strung carefully across his body, brows drawn tight with concern.

If it was anyone else, Jack knows the irritation would still be there. He'd call out sharply and keep walking, keep heading to where they're going whether Davey follows or not, to make that last few cents and go home.

But it's Davey. So he turns back and walks to him.

"What's up?" he asks, shoulder brushing Davey's as he stands up on tiptoes to try and see what he's staring at. The alleyway seems empty aside from the usual filth, an expanse of dirty brick and damp cobblestone, crates and bins from the neighbouring shops.

"There was someone there," Davey says quietly. "I—They ran when they saw me. I thought it was…"

"What," Jack says. "Who?"

"It just…looked like one of the Delanceys."

Oh.

"He looked. Hurt."

Oh.

As much as Jack hates it, his stomach immediately twists in a familiar way. An innate, helpless concern for the boys he'd been raised alongside, as incredibly complicated as his feelings about them both may be. As frequently as he may be sure he hates them.

He's suddenly very aware of how close they are to the Refuge, and his mind starts spinning with imagined scenarios — and with memories. Everything he'd seen done to both of the brothers, and everything he'd experienced alongside them. But he reminds himself sharply that none of them are kids anymore — that vulnerability he'd seen in them has long ago been stamped out now. It's no use reaching out. He's only gonna get bit if he does.

"Who's down there? Oscar?" he calls, taking a guess at the brother most likely to be alone. "What happened? Huh? Got yourself in another fight with someone big enough to punch back?"

He's testing the waters, trying to lure out the aggression if it's coming. But there's no response. He takes a cautious step closer and listens real careful, and realises suddenly he can make out shallow, wheezy breaths. He'd call it crying if he didn't know better.

"Hey," he calls out again, sharper — and suddenly it is crying, unmistakeable. Jack's eyebrows furrow, that concern in his stomach twisting again.

He steps around Davey with a hand on his waist and walks down the alleyway.

He finds Morris on the floor around the corner.

He's sat on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest, face buried against them like a child. Breaths coming short and sharp, gasping sobs that Jack only usually encounters with the younger boys fresh from a nightmare.

"Morris?" he says, half-cautious, and Morris flinches hard, curls up tighter. Jack sees blood, smeared on Morris' hand clutching his shin and dripping from his face. "Morris, hey. You hurt?"

He dares to get closer, bracing for a hit, but it doesn't come. Morris is shaking. Jack realises very suddenly that Morris is bracing for a hit.

"Hey. I ain't—I'm not gonna hurt you," he says instinctively.

"Os," Morris hiccups, the sound of it garbled and clumsy, but unmistakeable.

Jack looks around as if Morris' brother is going to appear somehow out of thin air at the call, but, unsurprisingly, he's still nowhere to be seen. Jack only locks eyes with Davey, who's come down the alleyway after him, looking a little bit sick. Tense as anything, deeply uncomfortable, but looking at Morris with distinct concern.

"He's bleeding," he says quietly. Jack glances back at Morris, just in time to see him chance a look upwards. He's got a brutal bruising mark across the height of his cheek, a gash torn into the skin. Dark curls hanging in his face, pale eyes staring up from under his lashes.

And he's got his thumb in his mouth, chewing hard on it.

He looks remarkably young. Startlingly young. Something Jack's never seen before in his eyes, something terrified and vulnerable and. Childlike.

"Wan' Os," Morris croaks, voice tiny.

Jack swallows hard.

"You. Yeah, 'course you do. D'you know where he is?" he asks, as gently as he can, and, predictably, Morris shakes his head.

"Dunno where…where…"

I don't know where I am.

Jack lowers himself slowly to a crouch, a safe distance between himself and Morris, but the two of them more on the same level now.

"You been to the Refuge?" he asks. Morris shrugs, seems to genuinely not know. Jack gestures carefully to the gash on his face. "…Snyder do that, at least?"

Morris goes suddenly tense all over, eyes sort of glazing, and Jack immediately knows he's stepped on something he shouldn't have. Knows the damage is already done when Morris crumbles suddenly into tears again, face burying once again into his knees to hide, free hand curling around his head as if to shield himself.

Jack mutters a curse, then regrets that too when it only makes Morris cry harder, as if himself and his brother don't curse like sailors.

"Tá'bróno'm, Daidí," Morris mumbles, and — oh. Oh. Jack opens his mouth to try and apologise too, explain, but the words won't form past the lump in his throat. He thinks maybe it's best they don't, sure he'll only make it worse again.

He looks up at Davey.

"God, I ain't qualified for this shit," he breathes.

Dave smiles at him, real soft.

"What's…wrong with him?" he asks, tactless as he always is, but at least has the sense to lower his voice. Jack shrugs. Reaches out and very gently brushes the front of Morris' leg, a cautious bit of reassurance.

"Should get him back to his brother," he says. Then hesitates. "It…Morris. Weren't Oscar that hit you. Right?"

Morris mutely shakes his head.

"Os wouldn'," he mumbles then, which Jack knows to be outright untrue — he's seen Oscar hit his brother. But he doesn't argue.

"Okay. Okay, good. An' you. You don't know where Oscar is?"

Morris shakes his head again.

"Wan' Os," he hiccups. "Or. Or Mamaí. Where's—?"

"Let's get you to Os," Jack says quickly.

He pats Morris' shin gently and stretches out his hand, helps pull Morris to his feet when he takes it — with the hand that isn't still holding his thumb in his mouth. Morris then goes — not for the first time, if the mess of blood is any indication — to wipe clumsily at his bleeding cheek with the heel of that same free hand. Jack catches him instinctively, holds him by the wrist.

"Gonna hurt yourself," he says. Morris starts chewing harder at his thumb again, fidgeting on his feet, pulling restlessly but absentmindedly away from Jack's hold. Jack keeps ahold of him, a little nervous suddenly that Morris is going to run away.

"Um," Davey chokes out.

He's still stood a little way away, but he's fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and he's holding it out to Jack. A clear offering. It's well-worn and off-white, embroidered at the corner with little flowers and plants — Sarah's work, surely. It's soft. Jack takes it and moves it to Morris' cheek.

"Bleedin'," Morris mumbles, dodging intially away from it like it's a trick. "G'nna. G'nna ruin it."

"It's okay," Davey tells him quickly. Offers him a tight little smile as Jack begins to mop at his wound, being as gentle as he can. "I've cleaned up Les' skinned knees and bloody noses plenty of times. My Mama's great with the laundry."

Morris stares at him. Something lost and searching in his battered face, until Jack's made as good a job of the gash as he will do and draws away.

"C'mon," he says. "We'll go find your brother."

He's hoping the streets are empty. Quiet, at least. Devoid of anyone who'll run over and demand questions of him escorting Morris of all people.

And he's pretty sure Morris isn't much in the state for an audience right now either.

Jack doesn't know what's wrong with him, couldn't put any sort of name to it at least. But he sees terrified vulnerability and doesn't really need to ask many more questions. Not when he can look at Morris and see Les — see Michael.

Although. "Should…" he says, and there's a guilt to it. "You gotta take your thumb outta your mouth, bud."

Morris does, all too quickly and clearly bracing for another hit, and Jack doesn't want to think too much about that. Pats Morris on the shoulder instead, and starts guiding him out of the alleyway, leading the charge. Intent on finding Oscar before he finds them.

And hoping he might at least give Jack a chance to explain before he breaks his nose.

[possiblyunhinged]

I'm so exhausted of male violence never being treated as an epidemic that, honestly, my ability to be rational in these conversations has dispersed almost entirely. At this point, my autistic ass thinks people who lead these conversations online and in politics actually aren't interested in fucking doing anything about it - it just makes them feel virtuous to pop off about it.

Even people pretending that the outcry from chodes online about counter-terrorism departments looking into the far-right and extreme misogyny is in any way a surprise. Has violence against women and girls become an anomaly in the UK? No. In fact, hardly any rapists are convicted now. So why is it surprising that misogynists are aplenty?

I fear for young girls in school now because I don't see what people are actually doing about it. The absence of action and countering the BULLSHIT that people like Tate post has gone on for far too long.

Young boys have been left with a massive void, and chodes like Tate and co are filling it. Of course, it seems like sound advice to them because what has been the alternative? Or rather, why is the alternative so quiet and feeble in comparison?

So, basically, I will start barking at men in public instead of attempting to appease strangers. I'm talking a shrill, piercing Jack Russell bark pals. You'll be lucky if I don't start gnawing at shins at this rate.

[peachlolitasevillacourtstuff]

Name; Nebula Sentry Sparkle

Age; +500 years. (16 biological years)

Parents; Princess Twilight (Mother) Flash Sentry (Father)

Other family; Shinning armor (Uncle) Princess Cadance (Aunt) Flurry Heart (Cousin) Twilight Velvet (Grandma) Night Light (Grandpa)

Friends; Sunny, Izzy, Pipp, Hitch, Zipp, and misty.

Species; Pure alicorn.

Likes; Tea with cookies, ancient history, creating new spells, crafts, monsters, Dragons, anything with cream.

Does not like; Disorder, bad ponies, inequality, Lies, Very expensive things, war, violence.

Personality; Nebula is a quiet mare who has magic as powerful as her mother, Princess Twilight. She was shy and used to go to school where almost all races studied. She had a hard time making friends outside the palace, but she did manage to make 2 friends at the time when equestrianism was still prosperous.

History; Born as the only daughter of Twilight Sparkle, the princess possessed magic greater than that of her mother and her cousin. She being closely watched by the guards and her uncle shinning armor at her. She earned her cutie mark at a demonstration event where she caused a star explosion that altered reality, violating the laws of physics for 5 minutes. That incident made it clear that she was stronger than any alicorn being the watchdog in equestria. Many ponies came to be afraid of Nebula, but luckily for her, Nebula had her 2 friends Stonerose and Onyx Mercury. She also received support and love from her mother's friends, Rainbow Dash, Apple Jack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity and Fluttershy, who were part aunts and teachers. When everything was going well, at an unexpected moment, Princess Twilight, her mother, was betrayed by an old apprentice of hers, which caused a long and violent war that divided Equestria. In an act of love and sacrifice, Cadance's mother and her aunt turned her into a glass statue and hid her in a place far from the war. 500 years later, the spell broke itself and Nebula arrived in an era where the ponies are divided.

[missn11]

Music used: Until the end of the world by U2

Clips used: Devilman The Birth & Amon The Apocalypse of Devilman

Manga scans used: Devilman, Devilman Saga, Violence Jack, Shin Devilman, Neo Devilman, Devilman Gekiman and Amon The Darkside of Devilman

When I first listened to this song and read the lyrics I thought it was really mad fitting for Devilman, and I knew I had to go all out for this one! And boy did I! this took me days to do and I played around with CapCut's effects in blending the manga scans and the anime clips together, I hope it looks good at least XD.

[resident-dumb-fuck]

please explain to me the plot of ur fav musical right now 👀if a fav is too hard to pick then whichever one is the funniest

welp in honor of the fact that i just heard someone say little gurgles in real life. HIT MUSICAL INTO THE WOODS!!

okay so act 1. characters from various different fairytales (cinderella, little red riding hood, and jack and the beanstalk are the most importsnt ones here) + a baker and his wife are going into the woods to get stuff they want. cinderella wants to go to the king’s festival, little red riding hood wants to see her granny, and jack wants to sell his cow (because his mom told him to). the baker and his wife want a child, but they can’t because the witch from next door placed a curse on the baker’s bloodline. to break this curse, she tells them that they need to go into the woods and bring her back the cow as white as milk, the cape as red as blood, the hair as yellow as corn, and the slipper as pure as gold. by the chime of midnight in three days time btw. so everyone goes into the woods. cinderella goes to her mothers grave at a hazel tree, and asks her for a dress and shoes. she gets that (and the slippers are as pure as gold. can you see where this is going). next we cut to little red riding hood, who is skipping through the woods when she encounters a wolf. the wolf inquires where she is going, and also it is a real stage direction that he “moves like Fred Astaire.” the baker spots this, and because little red has a cape as red as blood, he’s like “oh shit!!!!” and starts focusing on that. because the witch yells at him mostly. also rapunzel sings here she’s important i promise. the witch does a lot of popping out of nowhere. i love her. he takes little reds cape, she cries until he gives it back, and then she kicks him in the shin.

the bakers wife is here now even though the baker didn’t want her in the woods. it’s fine he gets character development in a little. but he tells her to go home and then they argue for a little when who should show up but jack (and the cow as white as milk). the baker and his wife buy the cow, and then the bakers wife goes home. and by goes home i of course mean that she stays in the woods for a bit.

meanwhile, the baker goes to follow up with little red. unfortunately she did get eaten by the wolf, but it’s okay because he fucking kills the wolf. also granny is the best character in this entire musical. she loves violence. it’s really really good.

the baker’s wife has encountered cinderella, who she questions about the ball. and then she tries to take her shoes but they are interrupted by a giant beanstalk rising from the sky. oh shit i forgot to mention the beans. um they’re the witch’s beans. they’re magic. the baker paid jack with these.

now its first midnight!! recap of how everybody’s doing in the woods. (bad. it’s bad.)

also, jack climbed the beanstalk from earlier. there are giants in the sky. there are big tall terrible giants in the sky. he stole shit from them.

next the two princes (cinderella’s and rapunzel’s) have a fun little duet that reveals where the hair as yellow as corn is. the bakers wife, who was also there, goes and gets it.

and now it’s time for the baker’s character development!!! whoooooo!!!! but uh oh it’s second midnight. another recap. everybody’s doing bad. also, rapunzel’s in the desert now. and her prince is blinded by thorns. it sucks.

btw cinderella keeps going to the ball. this time the stairs got smeared with pitch so she left behind one of her shoes. bakers wife shows up an exchange of her shoes for the slipper is made.

AND NOW ITS TIME TO FEED THE OBJECTS TO THE COW!!! baker and his wife try ti make a potion for the witch but it doesn’t work. this is because she touched the hair as yellow as corn. so they use the hair of an ear of corn. it’s really good. also the mysterious man is there i forgot to mention him he’s important tho.

cinderella’s stepsisters’ feet get cut up, rapunzel’s prince’s blindness gets cured because um. magic?, cinderella and her prince get married, and her stepsisters get their eyes pecked out by birds. onstage.

and now it’s time to check in with everybody. what did we learn? fuck if i know. but hey at least there’s a cool song. and its intermission time!!! also baker & wife have a baby.

welcome back from intermission everybody’s so happy. until the bakers house gets donked in. because there’s a giant in the land. this is bad because we gotta kill that guy now. also, the princes are in the woods to cheat on their wives.

now the baker, his wife, little red, and some of the royal family are in the woods. together. by coincidence. also the witch shows up a little into this scene. they’re talking about what to do about the giant and then she shows up. the giants a woman!!! and she’s real pissed about jack killing her husband. they try to give people to the giant but it doesn’t work. also rapunzel and the narrator die, and also jacks mother.

the royal family goes to get lost in the woods (not on purposed) and baker & co go to look for jack. the bakers wife finds cinderella’s prince, kisses him several times, and then gets crushed by the giant. the baker finds cinderella. so naturally, everybody starts making plans to kill the giant. it works, and then BIG FINALE NUMBER!!! what did we learn? again, fuck if i know!! but at least it sounded good

[the-cat-chat]

September 5, 2024

The Shining (1980)

A family heads to an isolated hotel for the winter, where a sinister presence influences the father into violence. At the same time, his psychic son sees horrifying forebodings from both the past and the future.

Warning: Review may contain spoilers. Read at your own risk.

JayBell: Spooky Month begins with a true horror classic. Stephen King adaptations have a wide variety of quality. And over the last few years of The Cat Chat, we've seen the best and the worst. From the terribly bad IT to the mid Carrie to the incredible Shawshank Redemption, we really are marking them off our list.

So where does The Shining land? Personally, I think it's better than movies like Carrie, but not up there with The Green Mile and Shawshank. It's definitely iconic though. I appreciate the visuals, the cinematography, the set design. And I love a psychic kid plotline (I want to see The Sixth Sense kid fight The Shining kid in battle). But seriously, this kid is freakkkkyyyy. I felt bad for the mom who is like the only normal person in this movie dealing with crazy abusive husband and demon-sounding child.

Truly the true center of this movie, to me at least, isn't about psychic kids or haunted hotels. It's really a story of an abusive marriage. Cause wow. He's an asshole way before being infected by the hotel, it just brings it more to the forefront.

The entire time I couldn't stop comparing Jack Nicholson's facial expressions and performance to Jim Carrey's Grinch. It's uncanny.

Rating: 6.5/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: I waited sooo long for this movie. And the end of September into October has been rouuugh. And Spooky Season Kickoff with the The Shinning was suppose to make everything great. And I’m soo sad bc I bet too much on this one.

First. It’s not scary. At all??? I mean maybe that naked tub granny situation was uncalled for but??? Really??

Second. All this is- truly- is to show the scary possibility you might marry a man that’s actually really horrible- BEFORE he even loses his mind bc of a haunted hotel and tries killing you and your kid. But what do I know. Other than he abused their kid while he came home drunk. Yelled at you when he was “writing.” And just very emotionally and verbally abusive. But heyyy blame the hotel it’s fine.

I get it too that bc the kid has the shine blah blah blah, the hotel wants him. And does this through the dad. But that really felt a little lost in the plot. But I’m dumb. Sooo. Ya know. Whatever. The ending is just ridiculous too. It’s ridiculous. I was hYpeDdd man. For overrrrr a year. And then living on that for like a month. I was ESTATICccc. Rude.

Rating: 5/10 Demons 👹

[epheyll]

Accismus

ethan winters x reader pt. one

the x reader we all deserve

accismus.

noun. an ironic rhetorical device, in which one feigns indifference, or makes a pretense of refusing something one desires

tw | may contain scenes of graphic violence or gore, cursing, suggestive themes, ect.

"ollie where are you?" you called out, stumbling over a slick tree root. you hated it when he played too close to the bakers' house, and now you couldn't find him. it was a humid day just like any other in dulvey, and the air was sticking to your already sweaty skin. it felt so hot you thought the dew might boil you alive. another step had you right in front of the gate towards the bakers' house. no one had seen them in a very long time, but you weren't dumb. you'd read every article regarding the missing persons. you didn't want your brother to become another statistic.

panic rising, you cupped your hands around your mouth, hoping the 12 year old boy might hear your cries. "come on, ollie! it's time to come inside! it's getting dark!" the only thing that answered was a flock of crows startled from their nest.

you grumbled, cursing quietly and promising to give your brother a scolding he'd never forget when you found him as you now had to scale the fence. your shoes squelched in the mud as you took the step forward, cringing and hoisting yourself up onto the fence. you grunted as you swung your leg over, jumping down, cold, slick mud splattering all over your shins.

"gross," you muttered as you trudged through the muck, looking for a trail. the cool mud was a contrast to the bright sun beating down on the top of your head. after this you'd take a nice long shower. maybe two. that didn't seem like it'd be anytime soon though because the further you walked, the more lost you got. now, you were no outsider to dulvey, but there were certain rules these passed few years that you just didn't break. even in your grown adult age, you treated them like a sacred oath given by your very own parents.

rule 1. never, under any circumstances, cross the fence blocking off the bakers' house from the rest of town.

alright, rule 1 broken. you couldn't exactly go back now, not when you were ankle deep in writhing green mud as you ducked under tree branch after tree branch to avoid getting knocked square in the forehead. a crunch from not too far away alerted you, and you went deathly still, holding your breath as you listened. listened. and then heard a soft curse that definitely didn't sound like jack or marguerite baker. actually, it didn't sound like anyone you'd ever heard in dulvey.

you crept towards where you could still see the fence, a gaping hole in the bottom of it, and when you went to peek through-

you yelped, startled as you fell back on your bottom, just as the man in front of you did. the very clean man, you noted. nobody, and you meant nobody, was clean in dulvey.

rule 2. never, under any circumstances, talk to an outsider.

they only ever showed up to cause trouble, though this man didn't exactly look like trouble. no, he looked quite the opposite in his button-up shirt and dirty blonde hair. the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. or were they gray? it was like you were staring at a storm cloud. he seemed just as surprised to see you, like maybe you weren't real. or maybe you looked absolutely crazy covered in mud and cut up from the brambles you'd walked through.

"who the hell are you?" you blurted out, and he almost looked offended by your tone. or maybe confused. you weren't exactly sure what to make of the stranger.

he crossed his arms, tilting his head as he eyed you skeptically. "i could ask you the same thing. cause you kind of look like a trespasser."

"doesn't that make you one then too?"

"fair enough,"

you stood up from the ground, wiping off your pants and hands the best you could, staring at the man through the fence once again. "i'm trespassing for a good reason though. have you seen a little boy around? about..er- this high?" you held your hand to about ollie's height, though it felt silly without him right beside you. "he's got dark hair. and bright green eyes." you explained, but the stranger didn't seem to recognize. that made enough sense. he didn't know you, so why would he know ollie? wishful thinking. "nevermind. who exactly are you?" you demanded as you gripped on to the edge of the fence.

the stranger ducked into the hole at the bottom of the fence, joining you on the other side. "name's ethan." short and to the point. that still didn't exactly answer your question, and he must have seen the look on your face because he continued, "you won't believe me if i tell you why i'm here."

"try me," you insisted as you backed away from the stranger. maybe he looked prim and proper, but no one with good intentions ever stepped onto the bakers' property. and no one ever returned afterwards. you thought about warning the stranger of just that, but if he didn't have good intentions, you weren't sure you'd even want to see him again.

ethan was already moving passed you, following the faint trail ahead, and eager for answers (and still looking for your little brother), you followed after him. "i'm looking for my wife. she's been missing for three years, but i got word that she might be here in dulvey. she wants me to come get her."

from the bakers' house? unlikely. you wanted to tell him that his wife was long gone along with the other missing people, but you bit your tongue and gave him a rather uncomfortable look. "right. you think i'm crazy." ethan sighed helplessly but continued to march down his path. even though you'd seen him wince everytime he stepped in some mud.

"no, not at all." you tried to sound lighthearted as you stepped over puddle after puddle, but it sounded more like you were taunting him than anything. "i'll help you look for your missing..er..wife? if you help me look for my brother. i was supposed to watch him for my parents this week, and i haven't seen him for hours." which made you sound like a terrible older sister and babysitter, but you had a job and bills to pay. you couldn't exactly spend every moment watching after your brother.

ethan, desperate for help in this unfamiliar place, shrugged. "okay, but only if he's on this property. i'm not sticking my nose anywhere else." you supposed that was fair enough, but you couldn't help your scowl at his tone.

suddenly, ethan halted and held an arm out to stop you from going forward. he crouched down and you followed, peeking over his shoulder at whatever he was looking at. in front of you, an older man (who you thought might be jack baker) was stomping through the underbrush. he looked angry, unlike the jack you had known before. the kind that would come to the festivals in town, singing and laughing with his family. the loving husband and father. this one looked..deranged, and you almost felt bad for him. if you weren't convinced that he was a maniac serial killer.

jack pushed on and left the two of you unnoticed, but you didn't feel ethan breathe again for a solid minute after the figure was gone. he stood and walked forward, not even bothering to see if you were still there. it seemed he had a mission, and you might just be in his way. still, you had a mission, too, and you wanted to find your brother before your parents found out he was missing.

you hadn't seen the bakers' house since you were a little kid, and the sheer size of it was enough to impress you. and how rundown it looked. surely the bakers didn't still live there? you didn't see how they even could considering the roof looked caved in and there were gashes in the walls.

ethan wasted no time sliding down the hill, the ground much drier here. he looked up at you expectantly, but you couldn't do much but stare down. "no way." you argued as he gave a frustrated sigh.

"i'll catch you." it was a crude joke to make, and his tone suggested that he knew exactly that, but still, he smiled at you. "come on, didn't you ever roll down hills as a kid? or go sledding? it isn't even that steep don't be a ba-" you didn't give him the chance to finish his— probably rude— sentence as you all but fell down that hill. you yelped as you crashed into his legs, and he yelped as he fell back on his butt, knocking against something behind him.

"you said you'd catch me!" you yelled as you scrambled to get back up. you tumbled over him as he tried to get up as well, the both of you nothing but flailing bodies in the dirt.

ethan grabbed at your shoulders and pushed you back so that you were sitting on your knees. "i didn't mean literally!" he argued right back as he went to grab for the thing he'd landed on. a red purse. it looked an awful lot like mia's. and it was surprisingly clean. what was her purse doing out here? ethan dumped the contents onto the ground and frowned as he saw it was, in fact, mia's things.

an ID stared up at you, and you saw that it was a rather pretty woman. she had light brown hair, and she couldn't have been much older than you. there was no doubt that she wasn't from around here. you'd never seen her before.

beside you, ethan was taking this much harder. his silence was almost scary. you stood and offered him your hand as you inclined your head to the abandoned home. or, well, you hoped it was abandoned. "let's go look. maybe she's inside." you knew she wasn't.

ethan grabbed your hand and stood up, and you didn't know if he believed you or if he was just desperate to stop looking at the ID, even if you did see him pocket it. "yeah. maybe your brother is too." he assured, and though his smile was fake, you were grateful for it.

the two of you said nothing else as you walked towards the house.

[officialmikimakimura]

ok i hate to do this in the year of our lord 2023. but. ryo asuka is literally an intersex gay man. intersexuality doesnt make you automatically trans. some ppl do identify that way but not everyone.

he was written as intersex to get past censors. go nagais autobiographical manga literally confirms this.

"i can get away with this (laugh)"

also this was translated by someone on 4chan so. its probably not 100% accurate.

also this whole scene too from shin where its confirmed hes gay:

the official english manga even uses he/him and masculine terms on him after hes revealed as satan. shown here.

also im sorry but if u wanna argue he's not a man via lady and saga.

that was 2 get his brother off his back

saga is garbage and im certain thats not even ryo plus ive heard saga translation inaccurate

also if youre going to argue that. why dont u argue about akiras gender. akira has a portion of himself split into a woman in violence jack. no one questions hes a man still. interesting

[that-sims-four-blog]

And another slice of the playthrough...

(cw: plenty of violence and some blood further down below)

And on tonight's episode of Leeb, Leefuh, Love:

Back at the Metallica household, Kirk and Lars share a top-bunk bed—partially because they're not gay, that one parody music video be damned.

Honestly, there is not much to tell, although Lars did say something about a case...

Heh, heh.

No, it's not about Napster, although it was equally as scandalous as his case against it.

Furthermore, the royalty report for Lars' track finally came in:

That's not quite a bad profit for someone who just started out their journey to become the new Skrillex, and there will be more, I am certain. Since the household has not seen anything interesting in quite some time, I don't think it'll get much attention in the following posts.

Moving over to Strangetown Strangerville, Sussus Amogus settles into sus residence at Slip 42. Yes, sus pronouns are sus/sus (singular: crewmate), although it's fine if you use they/them pronouns for sus for serious discussions.

The first thing that Sussus did was to go over to the pub across the street and then... uh... break someone's nuts into a million pieces. I am sorry that I couldn't get any images of the event (I need to stop confusing the C key with S), so this anecdote is the only evidence I can offer, along with the fact that the victim was named Daiki.

By the way, I'm thinking of making Sussus' parts more chaotic compared to the rest—which means more violence, yay! So, yeah, I would suggest that you might want to tread carefully when coming to their parts.

Excuse the mod's misgendering, but I think I have accomplished my goal of making Sussus an egotistical bastard. I have worse things in mind that would prove that sus is, like, really evil. Or rather, really suspicious.

That is also Sussus. I don't like how sus turns bald every time sus enters the shower, so I decided to give sus a little Jack Frost disguise. So, there it is: Sussus Amogus, masquerading as Jack Frost—of Shin Megami Tensei and Persona fame—every time sus enters the shower or goes to work—as pictured, as a scientist.

As insane as it sounds, I'm thinking of giving sus a romantic interest. Because I can, and also that I found one of the Sims at Sussus' lab pretty cute.

Pictured here is Sussus Frost at work, complete with the UI glory. I don't recall what her name was, but that's the Sim I'm thinking of pairing Sussus with.

Okay, lab aside, I'd like to mention one of Sussus' days—a really specific one that I thought was worth writing about.

After doing a really, really horrific thing at that Strangerville bar—let's just say that it was murder; I cannot go into further detail lest I get this blog deleted—Sussus decided to head to the Old Quarters' Inn. It would have been fine had Daiki not been the bartender there.

And, uh.

Yeah, Sussus seems pretty hell-bent on making this poor guy miserable.

I think it's clear in Daiki's eyes how really miserable he is, all because of some random crewmate who just moved in several hours earlier. Then came a fight!

Sussus lost. It was too much for this one Imposter to handle. The next thing that sus did was to throw blood on him and then call the cops. Nope, they were too late. So, I decided to let Sussus take the matter into sus' own hands.

You get the idea. Most of the aftermath of it is probably too... grisly to be put in here. I'm just going to give you a couple of images that I took in the aftermath of the incident.

And then—

Wait, what?

What the fuck.