#shitter criminals

[gaystation4]

if farting worked like this oomfie would have more abs than ai generated porn

[masterwords]

3x08 - Lucky

[strmpt]

i love how in the beta session like dad egbert and mom lalonde find each other and are chauffeured by poppop harley via some fuckin shenanigans

but they all avoid bro the whole time like hey lets do our own thing but lets do it as far away from that wacko as possible

relatable

[chmerical-a]

❝ㅤㅤ𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗬  goes  through  shit.  doesn't  mean  they  can  be  𝙖 𝙨 𝙨 𝙝 𝙤 𝙡 𝙚 𝙨  about  it.ㅤㅤ❞

sc  (  x  )  ft. @daemondaes

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

My reactions to episode 9 of season 2 of Criminal Minds Evolution

Spoilers below the cut!

Luke letting himself into Penelope's office!! Collecting my Garvez crumbs/secret dating proof where I can

Their banter!! His face when she's talking!! So in love!!

Luke knowing Aida bc of his past makes my Gold Star Luke theorist heart happy

No official notification would have elipses in it omg that was so weird

Luke being the only one standing and just staring at Pen 🥰 they're so in love they're so secretly dating

Omg bf/gf case presentation!! Love the group work!!

Temily sitting next to each other!! Wives!!

Oh yay!! Jade and Dana have found the "crime board" about the BAU! This is so great!

luke leaves his door open during the day??? i guess it's for roxy but it seems dumb

ooh that transition was SMOOTH

"motherfucker" LOLLL

This Frank Church guy is fucking weird

"women like you" EW

Tyler you are being irrational and hot headed and dumb

PENELOPE DID NOT JUST SAY RIZZ

Great, Dana's dead. And then there were two.

Oh god the scenes from mila's "dream" make me sick

Luke saying "the shitter" made me snort

I am here for the Tyler/Luke bromance-ish?

JILL WHY DID YOU KISS HIM AGAIN

oh shit jade just snapped his neck with her bare hands

the music is SO GOOOOD

Oh this ending scene SLAPS

I just know the last episode is gonna be SO GOOD, holy shit

[bi-bard]

Ask Me Why So Many Fade, but I'm Still Here - Roman Sionis Imagine (Birds of Prey)

Title: Ask Me Why So Many Fade, but I'm Still Here

Pairing: Roman Sionis X Reader

Based On: Karma

Word Count: 1,222 words

Warning(s): violence, mention of criminal activity

Summary: Roman never seemed to comprehend that you can only push someone so close to the edge before they snap. Play with your food, you give it a chance to bite back.

Author's Note: *whispering* Hey, hey... did you catch that Hannibal reference in the summary? Did you like it?

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE

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

Gotham was a city almost constantly on the verge of collapse.

A city crumbling to its very core meant that you had to take careful, calculated steps to avoid falling off the edge.

A delicate game.

I had spent my entire life learning exactly how to survive in Gotham City. Not just survive but thrive.

I played the game well.

The biggest obstacle in my game was one man. Roman Sionis.

He was ambitious. I admired that. That's why I gave him a second chance when his first deal almost sent my profits into the shitter.

His second deal didn't do much better.

All it did was make my blood boil and my mind race with possibilities.

I went to see Roman in his club.

It was... an interesting place.

Not a place where I liked to spend my time.

I walked up to the table Roman was sitting at with some group of people. I didn't know or recognize any of them. But I didn't really care to. I tapped the table.

"Roman," I grinned.

"(Y/n)," he cheered. "Pleasure to see you! Sit, drink!"

"Actually, I'm here to talk," I replied. "Can we go somewhere quiet?"

"Oh, you can discuss anything out here."

"Roman," I said sternly. "Quiet?"

"Fine, fine."

He managed to pull himself out of the booth. We walked toward the back of the building to a secluded room. I looked around as Roman shut the door.

It was what one would expect from a room in Roman's club. Red walls, low lighting, kind of strange artwork. I almost rolled my eyes at it. I wondered how much money he had wasted on a room like this.

"What did we need to discuss," he asked, walking by me. He went to grab us each a drink.

"Our deal," I explained. "You screwed me over, Roman."

"Oh, please, I'm sure it's fine," he waved me off. "I gave you a good deal."

"Bullshit," I snapped. "The only reason I'm still standing is because I saved myself. You tried to ruin me."

"Quite the accusation-"

"After two bad deals, you expect something different," I raised an eyebrow. "Roman, you are going to screw yourself over if you continue making deals like that."

He glared at me.

"I'm trying to be helpful. Understanding. I've been in this city a long time."

No response.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm expecting my money back. If you don't pay, then-"

Roman cut me off by pulling out a gun and aiming it at my head. I closed my eyes for a moment. Roman wouldn't shoot me himself. He would despise the mess.

"If you've been here for so long, then you can understand the danger of threatening someone like me on their own turf."

I sighed before pushing the gun away. "I wasn't threatening you."

He glared at me.

"Good luck, Roman," I said. "I hope you end up okay."

"Get out of my club."

I smiled at him before turning around and heading out.

The next few weeks were quiet.

I was rebuilding.

I was researching and working and making plans. It was like resetting the foundation. Making everything stronger. Leaving less room for rotten deals to make it in and make an impact if they somehow did.

It was very beneficial.

I made some amazing moves for myself and my group.

But, of course, no period of peace could last forever.

"(Y/n)!"

I sighed at the sound of Roman's voice. I handed the clipboard in my hands over to the man I had been talking to before turning my attention to Roman.

"Roman," I said, walking over to meet him in the middle of the room. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"My club just got ambushed," he snapped. "The whole place is trashed. Most of my men are missing. I was lucky that I was out on a job when it happened, they have no idea where I am."

"Why should this concern me," I asked.

"I need resources to get out of Gotham for a little bit," he explained. "Regroup, get my men back, get my money back."

I sighed. "Roman... why would I help you?"

"We're partners. We work together."

"Every deal I have made with you has almost screwed me over. I was simply smart enough to know how to save my own ass. You have cost me a lot, Roman."

"Oh, come on-"

"And when I came to get my money, you thought it was a good idea to pull a gun on me."

He rolled his eyes.

"Tell me, Romie," I grinned at the glare I received for the nickname. "Are your men missing or did they resign?"

"What?"

"I just heard that they may have gotten a better opportunity. Better pay. A boss that can truly think through every consequence of their actions."

He didn't respond.

I stepped forward, leaning in so I could whisper in his ear, "Look around you, Romie."

He quickly did a circle, staring at the faces of the men around us.

I stepped back again. "I guess it really wasn't that hard to convince people that your leadership was... flawed."

"You son of bitch-"

"Language, Romie!"

He paused.

"Search him."

One person stepped forward and got all of Roman's weapons.

"It wasn't that difficult. I didn't have to do much convincing. Apparently, deals you've made haven't benefitted any of the men working with you."

I held out my hand to one of the men, quietly asking for the bat in his hand. He gave it to me. I admired it for a moment. The look on Roman's face was enough to tell me that he was realizing the situation he was in.

"I grew up in this city," I explained. "I saw it through so many transformations. I understand the beating heart of this city."

I stepped forward, tapping the bat against Roman's chest.

"I could've helped you," I continued. "I could've kept you from drowning. Protected you and taught you. You could've been part of Gotham's elite. If had just been smart enough to not screw me over."

His jaw clenched.

"But, hey, can't change the past," I shrugged as took a few steps back. "So, I just watched. You screwed yourself, Romie. That's how you ended up here. I need you to know that. I'm not saying I'm a god or the devil... I'm merely the one you're going to face on judgment day."

One of the men kicked the back of Roman's knee, causing him to fall to the ground in front of me.

I used the end of the bat to tilt his chin up. "Beg."

"For what," he asked. "Your forgiveness?"

"Oh, no... you lost any chance of that a long, long time ago," I shook my head.

I stepped back and twirled the bat in my hand before preparing to swing. I let it gently touch Roman's temple as I lined up my shot.

"I want you to beg for mercy," I instructed. "If you're lucky, I'll just kill you... if you aren't, well... don't wanna spoil the fun."

He stared at me silently.

"Your choice," I shrugged.

"(Y/n), wait-"

"Nighty-night, Romie."

I brought my arms up before taking a swing at him.

And I smiled.

Never had there been a more satisfying sound.

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

Author's Note: Villain!readers are so much fun!!

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[puckish-rogue]

It had been well over fifteen minutes since the Boss first stepped into this waiting room; twiddling his thumbs as he sat there patiently to be called in for this meeting. Not wanting to lose himself in whatever gacha games were installed onto his phone, he began to think over the way this Babel family presented themselves. They seemed rather professional all things considered. Which wasn't exactly uncommon in the criminal underworld depending on who you dealt with. But this certainly felt a lot more than what he was used to.

They could be old money as far as he knew. Most of those types prided themselves on being indistinguishable from legitimate businesses. It was a testament to both their wealth and influence, which is something that the Boss probably should have done more research on before coming here.

" Hmm, things could possibly go down the shitter. Might even wind up dead. Sounds pretty exciting. "

@cerberivs

[gaykarstaagforever]

I love The Batman, but as an adult I'm certainly in favor of him being called out and shut down and replaced by another vigilante. Someone who is just as morally unimpeachable, but not just when Bruce isn't pretending to be a failson aristocrat slumlord so he can afford more smoke pellets.

It would have to be someone like Robin Hood, who funds his operation with what he steals from the rich. ...Except Robin was originally an aristocrat, too. But at least he kind of went all in, taking to the woods and drawing the official ire of the System to the same degree as his lowly gang members.

I mean he is still from gentry stock, and I don't know why we have to keep doing that.

I guess I want a Rorschach. But one who isn't so emotionally unbalanced as to be feared and hated by almost everyone he could potentially work with.

But maybe that's just how it works if you're a superhero from the skids? You bring your motivating trauma and inability to pay to deal with it with you.

Jesus was upper middle class. This might be some inevitable human element, where a poor nobody just isn't going to become an iconic hero.

...Outside of Australia, at any rate.

But in that case he wasn't so much a hero of the downtrodden as he was a career criminal on a suicidal crusade to avenge the death of his family, who were only killed because they were also career criminals.

Like, he became an icon specifically because he was a turbo-larrikin. But outside of the UK and Australia, no one else even knows what the hell a larrikin is. The Batman isn't a larrikin. The Batman tolerates larrikins, but then tells them to turn themselves in. Because The Batman is the rich nerd who owns the parking garage they drunkenly vandalized.

Maybe a guy named Larry Kin, some delinquent from Gotham who gets a good private school education from a Wayne Trust grant, which includes a year abroad in Sydney. And when he comes back he puts on a stovepipe helmet and decides to confront The Batman as The Larrikin, because The Batman nonchalantly crippled his drug-addicted father, who got hooked on pain-killers after getting injured working at a warehouse owned by Wayne Enterprises, and was only acting as a thug in exchange for more pills.

They've probably already done something like this. But they always have to make the guy shitter in some way than The Batman, because the Rule is always that The Batman is the Best. And that's what I'm okay with challenging.

[gaystation4]

congratulations y'all we have been unburdened by that geriatric fuck!!

[babyawacs]

#ahaaaaa ! .@law @law @harvard_law @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @all @world .@snowden @scotus . @scotus @scotusblog @judge @judges .@judges @deutschland @bild @dw @phoenix_de #reframed #noway #mercy #look #bbbbbbbunch #the_usa_their_enemy #the #enemy #youdontunderstandnowayyoudo #it #is #germany #key #to #this #case #about #howitallstarted #howitallbegan #peculiar #quirk these criminal securitypolicy proxies play the victim while backthen allknew they were scum but that was absolutely ok something else was  w a y more important right then while alot worse happened everyday in that what them rule how them rule t h i s is clown shitters not understood but shuffled to mitigate their german liability //// lawyers banks insurances sero tolerance with german harms efforted as criminal securitypol icy all in  not only intent but as enemy of state all in black wars grade harms shuffled with certain people types personnel types inhowthemruled deformed them empowered overcivilpupulations shuffled inthis case their crimes rapes poisons killtrickeries their dynamics their motives from experiment medical horrors to flatline to zoo to rape to hookeralibi prisonor alibi to succumb giveup towhatever  their crimes at core becomes deflected with  did one  that avert the worst oncemore in what they hosted all in controlled did thatone have .. .. .. .. agun the daytime civillian couldnot even know about a h a a a a a a a a a *satire:* sogermansgermandeservethereforequicklythe *endofsatire.* /////

#ahaaaaa ! .@law @law @harvard_law @bbc_whys @france24 @haaretzcom @all @world .@snowden @scotus .@scotus @scotusblog @judge @judges .@judges @deutschland @bild @dw @phoenix_de #reframed #noway #mercy #look #bbbbbbbunch #the_usa_their_enemy #the #enemy #youdontunderstandnowayyoudo #it #is #germany #key #to #this #case #about #howitallstarted #howitallbegan #peculiar #quirk these criminal…

[miraculoustrashblogger]

Just finished reading Murder of Mages by Marshall Ryan Maresca (book 2 of the Maradaine Saga, book 1 of the Maradaine Constabulary collection)

Second time reading this book, and so many of the plothooks i didn't grasp the first time fell into place here.

Spoilers ahead, you've been warned.

Still love my boys Evoy and Minox. And i remember why i started shipping Minox and Joshea. Minox being a Sherlock clone means he is also Autistic Ace coded, socially awkward but brilliant at pattern recognition and solving puzzles. Evoy even more so, being a shut-in too. Minox being the one person his cousin Evoy talks to just tears me apart. No one gets how deep into the red strings Evoy is, that its not madness of the hallucinatory variety, but that he is hyperfocused on these trails of a conspiracy in Maradaine and forgets to take care of his own needs in the process. Reading this the second time, hearing the pieces he is learning about and puzzling out, I can see it. The Grand Ten, the Brotherhood of Nine, missing women and children, etc. I know a lot of these pieces now and see that Evoy is laying groundwork of foreshadowing. Minox gets it, he sees some of the same pieces. He knows Evoy's work is digging up ugly and dangerous schemes beneath the city.

Minox being an uncircled, untrained mage, in a constabulary family that knows but doesnt talk about it. And Joshea being from a hyper-masculine military family that has no idea he is a mage. Both are such queer coded stories. The gay son that everyone knows is gay, and its the elephant in the room. The closeted gay son who is desperately hiding the truth from his father and brothers. And then Joshea's family being butchers now and (insert meat jokes here). Its just too easy 😂

Satrine. Satrine. Spitfire Satrine "Tricky" Rainey. Plucked from her life as a street kid and turned into a spy in the Waish nobility, still ready to brawl at a moment's notice. Her husband in his vegetative state. Her teenage daughters. Desperate to provide for them, when the only skills she has were a position she retired from 15 years ago, in a field she can't go back into. So she takes up the mantle her husband had, or tries anyways. Constabulary. Detective work. She's got the mind and skills for it. She's fast and eager to chase down fleeing criminals, and definitely too quick to beat them into submission. She's angry and could probably do with a therapist tbh. Its a bit refreshing to see a woman get to be angry and violent and not be forced into some ideal of decorum or "ladylike"-ness, and she's the first to break the nose of anyone who tries.

She respects Minox. She sees his intelligence and his eccentricities. She can keep up with him. She doesn't call him Jinx like everyone else, and he doesn't call her Tricky like everyone else. He sees her capability and fire and isn't bothered by the fact that she's the only woman inspector in the city, or that she had to forge her papers to get this position. And she doesn't care that he's a mage. He's still bothered when she uses his first name though- boy is nothing if not an adherent to manners!

Corrie. My girl Corrie. First in line to call her brother Minox on his shit. Her and Satrine sizing each other up in their first meeting by cussing up a storm was *chefs kiss*. Love her so much

Rian and Caribet. Satrine's daughters. Rian being into the boy, fine, sure, glad she saw the light that he was a shitter. Knowing what I know about her now? Even worse, yeah, no wonder Satrine lost her mind when she saw them on a date. Rian, girl, you got better things coming your way, and she's actually your age, unlike him ;) Caribet is such a sweet girl, just trying to hold her family together as her mom and sister fight and her dad is a vegetable.

Mirrell and Kellman. These two oafs. Idiots and bastards, but ready to crack the heads of their fellow (corrupt) officers given the chance too, and eventually overlooking Satrine's forgeries to save Minox. Theyre incompetent and sexist and racist (look, ACAB, but i love a good detective procedural story, so sue me), and yet. Kellman is quiet and indifferent, he does mean well but I know from later books he is trouble. Mirrell is upfront about his assholery, but even though he verbally is rude to Minox and Satrine, he knows they are good at their jobs and "have hearts of Green and Red". He knows they have the calling to be inspectors. I'm still glad Satrine broke his nose for being a jackass.

Rereading Thorn of Dentonhill, there was a lot of groundwork laid, but this one laid almost as much! Gods i love these books. They just get better and better as the story progresses.

Thats all for now, onto rereading Holver Alley Crew next week!

[askrockandfriends]

A group of Goh's thugs encounter Ken in an alley. "Oh, look... the prodigal son returns!"

"If I was actually Goh's son, I wouldn't be a prodigy. I'd be a lowly criminal, like him!"

"Listen to this idiot talk! Thinking like the Yamashitas are still a cop family! Hey, dumbass! You think your folks are still the police, do ya? Don't you know the boss flushed that tradition down the shitter years ago!"

"Shut up... just shut up! Talking like you know your so-called boss more than I do... the piece of shit who took my family from me, and you all just mindlessly worship him thinking he's some great inventor simply cause that's what he wants to be... well, it's true Goh rejected our family tradition..."

"...But I haven't!"

And like that, Ken grabs his metal bat and lays into the thugs, bashing a guy's head in with a single swing, turning and kicking back another! He then pulls out one of his twin Desert Eagles and opens fire, sniping one guy's brain, another guy's lungs... one of the thugs tries to wrest the gun from him from behind, but Ken wrestles him to the ground!

"Goh is nothing but a criminal! He's a piece of shit, and a disgrace to our family! And you all are nothing but sheep following his every whim! Well, baa, baa, you sons of bitches! Time for the lambs to go to slaughter!"

Ken drives the thug into a nearby post and bashes his head repeatedly into it until he bleeds out. He then smashes the thugs head in with his foot for good measure in time for a guy to come in from behind and Ken to dodge his attacks and electrocute him with a car battery and pair of jumper cables!

Finally, another guy comes in and is puncher, kneed in the gut, and dropped with a hot iron. Ken then stands tall over the wanton destruction he caused.

"Take a look at this pile, Goh. One of these days... you're gonna be one of the bodies in it. And it's gonna feel great adding you, you son of a bitch. Wait no... you ARE the bitch!"

[enkisstories]

By any other initial

Long textpost incoming. Although I was able to rescue my saves, I don’t have a computer that can run Sims 4 atm, so I cannot take screenshots for Tina’s Halloween story.

Word count: 2664

It so happened that in the year of the Lord 1761, in the night before All Hallow’s Eve, six men and women sat on a small hill on an island that was floating smack dab in the middle of the Detroit river. And that hill was the topmost point of Belle Isle, but it really wasn’t particularly high, not even sufficient to trigger Connor Stern’s fear of heights.

Connor and the other five were convicted criminals, who were working on the fields and in the house of one John Phillips and his wife. Tired after a long day and feeling the wind pierce through their rags, at least the convicts hadn’t went hungry the last few days, as they usually did. That was a good thing on principle, but quite honestly they all were sick of their diet that had consisted solely of pumpkin mush. They were craving something hearty for a change, like bread, cheese or meat. Not that there’d been a chance of getting any of that, not with John for their master.

It wasn’t that the Phillips couple went out of their way to be cruel to their workers. But in their ambition to maximize their profits they let the six people, who were building their wealth for them, have only the absolute neccessary things to survive. In the end it didn’t matter why the workers suffered, because suffer they did and that was a fact.

In their misery the convicts found themselves driven to commit criminal acts more often than back home in England. Ironically their life on Belle Isle had sharpened the men’s and women’s wits and taught them lots of ways to outsmart, outrun and outpickpocket their masters. It was the opposite of what the judges had intended by sending them to the colonies…

Earlier today even Gavin Reed, who was otherwise bending his back to please the Phillips in the hopes of getting a recommendation for a good position seven years hence, had stolen a couple of still good candles from the manor house where he was working and sneaked them out to the fields, where the others lived.

The field workers in turn had hidden some of the pumpkins they had hollowed out for the Phillips to sell as lanterns and kept them for themselves. Connor had carved the likeness of an owl into it and then they had taken it up the hill and put a candle in and lit that candle for all the ghosts that might or might not pass by to see. For tonight was the night when the gates between this world and the next were said to stand wide open and if a stray soul had any hope left to find its way to the thereafter, then that was right now. It only needed a little guiding light, like the candleflame.

The candle inside the lantern was flickering for some time now, despite being sheltered inside the pumpkin. It was a perfectly normal occurence, nothing occult at all, but even so added to the atmosphere.

„The suckers“, a convict by name of Daniel O’Malley mused out loud. „Escaping Belle Isle, when we cannot!“

Gavin leaned forwards, intent of blowing out the candle. His neighbor, one Tina Chen, had to quickly grab the man by the collar of the threadbare jacket of John’s, that Gavin was wearing, and pull him upwards again.

„Geeze, Gav“, Daniel said, „you’re more destructive when you try to be helpful than when set out to be wile!“

„I was only joking!“ the other defended himself. „Wouldn’t have went through with it, okay?“ Gavin waved his hands about. „There, there, ghostly shitters, the road is clear again! Have a nice journey, thank you for having traveled with Phillips Fargo!“

Daniel snorted, then he leaned back on his arms and resumed looking for ghosts. For he could be petty, but wasn’t a bad man, deep down. Daniel wouldn’t have blocked the path to salvation for another soul, just because he was trapped here himself (except maybe John Phillips’…).

The candle flickered some more, but other than that nothing happened. If ghosts were out and about, they were traveling in a solemn, orderly fashion, that wasn’t exciting to their „conductors“. Therefore the six friends eventually asked Tina to tell them a ghost story. Chances were that as a former pirate she knew some good ones.

„My tale is rather short“, Tina started her yarn, „but it repeats over and over, and every time it happens anew, other people are the heroes of it. Some come out of their adventure bolstered and proceed to do great things, others get crushed utterly by the truths they uncover. But at the bottom of it all is a secret old as time: That our world isn’t the only one. In fact, there are many like it, like prints made from the same stock.“

Now that statement was, of course, contradictory to everything Tina’s audience had been taught about the universe, but it was the start of a spooky story, that’s only purpose was to give you the goosebumps, so the untruth was excused.

When nobody complained, Tina went on:

„But sometimes those prints are imperfect, and in a few books, those imperfections give the printed story a whole new meaning.“

None of the convicts were especially literary (or even literate), but Tina’s words stood to reason. If the page where the Good Lord decided to flood the Earth was missing from a bible, then the reader wouldn’t know why Noah was building that huge ship all of a sudden. Or something like that anyway, because nobody would not know about Noah and the ark. But not all tales were as well known as that of the deluge, so some believeably could get messed up by a speck of stray ink or a missing word.

Following up on the thought, Tina put her own detail into the story, that she thought might touch her audience:

„In our world Connor has an identical two brother. In the other world, Daniel has one.“

„I don’t want Connor’s used twin!“ Daniel protested. „I want my own!“

„And also“, Tina said, „in that other world Daniel might not interrupt stories.“

„Oh. Sorry.“

„But it is also said“, Tina spoke on, „that if a person inscribes their initials in the same spot, at the same time, as their counterpart in a parallel world, then that person would be able to look into the other world, and see how they were faring there.“

„How were they to know where and when they should carve their name?“ Rika inquired.

„They don’t“, Tina replied. „That’s why this happens so rarely, doesn’t it?“

„No… that isn’t quite right…“ Gavin was frowning. „There must a be a way to figure it out!“

Everyone was looking straight at the man, who could be quite clever if he applied himself to solving a puzzle. But tonight Gavin only shook his head. No, he didn’t have an idea. And neither had Connor, despite having solved the case of the cursed chickens in early fall. It was Chris Miller, the former (and somewhat corrupt, as the story went) watchman, who eventually laughed out loud, because an idea had come to him and now that it was there, it sounded so simple in retrospect.

„You wait for a special moment everyone has heard about!“ Chris announced. „One like tonight! I mean, maybe a decisive battle was won a day earlier or later in that other world, or maybe the British never took Fort Detroit from the French, but the Saints are a constant, and so should be All Hallow’s Eve!“

„Oh! Clever!“ Rika Boek clapped her hands. Chris certainly was on to something here!

„You know what? Let’s do it!“ Gavin tossed into the round. „I mean, what can go wrong? Even if we don’t manage to look into another world, our initials will remain in any case.“

„That important to you?“ Connor prodded, to which Gavin nodded eagerly.

„Yes! When Fort Detroit is a city the size of London, nobody will remember our names, they will remember John’s instead. And somehow tonight that doesn’t sit well with me. I kinda don’t want to let him get away with it.“

„Alright…“

Connor slowly rose, Daniel jumped to his feat, Chris held out his hand to Rika and Tina hers to Gavin to pull them up from the ground. The change of position painfully reminded them of the chains around their ankles, that didn’t allow for running or graceful turns…

Together they scoured the area, or what little they could anyway, seeing that they had been on their feet all day and their soles were burning as much as their ankles were chafing. Eventually they decided on a rock a fair bit apart from the fields. It was large and prominent, and probably more useful as a landmark than at risk of getting smashed into gravel for being in the way. If anything in their vicinity had a chance of lasting decades, even centuries, then it was this rock.

Gavin took out his pocket knife, but Tina pushed the man’s hand downwards again. He’d only destroy the blade, she claimed, and the convicts better used flint to carve their letters into the rock.

„You mean – more searching around?“

„’fraid so, yes.“

More time passed, the night was getting darker, the candle had grown shorter and the pumpkin they were using as lantern smelled roasted of sorts, but finally the convicts had found both a spot to write on and a sharp piece of flint to scratch it with. All that was left was to move the lantern closer and start working.

Rika and Chris, who both could write well, went first, then they helped the others with their letters. When they were finished, Chris put the lantern on top of the rock and then they stared… and stared… and stared…

But how ever hard they squinted their eyes, and regardless of whether they looked at the ground, into the sky or just straight ahead, no window into another world wanted to open. It had been only a story, after all.

„It was probably blasphemy in the first place, believing in other worlds and stuff“, Chris said with a sigh and moved to retrieve the pumpkin-lantern from the rock. There were no multiple worlds, only this one and heaven and hell, although there was little difference between hell and Belle Isle at the moment. But at least their initials would remain, and for the rest of their seven year sentence, the convicts now had a special place all of their own.

„My bad, guys“, Tina apologized. „I heard that story in a tavern, it’s none of those I made up myself, so I couldn’t be sure if there wasn’t maybe a grain of truth to it. I should have chosen one of… my… own? Do you see that, too?!“

„See what?“ Daniel asked.

„The letters!“ Rika squeeled. „Oh, Chris, please, Chris, move the lantern again the way you did just now! Yes, like this! And now will you all look at the letters?“

They looked, as told, but what Rika had spotted easily, wouldn’t reveal itself to the illiterate ones so easily. Gavin even claimed that the letters were fine. He’d know, because even though he didn’t know his ABC, he had signed many contracts during his time as a day laborer all over the British Islands.

„Well, yours certainly look the same“, Rika agreed. „But some of the others, while still looking fine, as in: neatly carved, have changed.“

Everyone looked again, and as the truth sank in, a particular detail stood out to them. One by one, as if reacting to a silent command, they closed in on their youngest companion and pushed him forward.

Connor stumbled, very nearly losing his footing and crashing against the rock. But he caught himself and then reached out to touch his initials to the chorus of the others’ cheers. With the fingers of his right hand Connor traced the letters, to convince himself that they were really there and in the exact shape his eyes told him they had taken, while with his left hand the youth was wiping the moist from said eyes.

Connor’s initials, formerly „C.S.“ for „Connor Stern“, now read: „C. A-A.“

„Anderson!“ he whispered, moved beyond words.

Although a peek into the other world had been too much to ask for, the stone had gifted the inscribers with some insight of their alternate lifes, namely that the other Connor went by his father’s surname.

Fredrika Boek had changed to R.M. Apparently the other world’s Rika had decided to write her nickname, the one everyone only ever used anyway, instead of her full name. This world’s Rika didn’t have much capacity to explore how she felt about it, because the second letter told her that…

„I’m married in the other world!“ the woman rejoiced.

„I’m not!“ Tina chimed in in the same jolly voice. Her letters hadn’t changed.

„I cannot tell“, Chris said in a sulky voice. I may have taken a wife, but my initials wouldn’t reflect that.“

„Fair enough“, Gavin agreed with a grin, „if not for the little detail that Rika’s surname now starts with the same letter as yours, haha!“

Everyone agreed that this didn’t leave much to the imagination, even though Chris and Rika couldn’t help but blush at the idea.

„I got adopted!“ Daniel O’Malley cried out. „Look!“ And indeed his letters now were „D.R.“.

„…by my parents, apparently“, Gavin grunted.

„What? No! Don’t be silly! What are the chances a vagrant and a sailor would have met? By roaming the land respectively the sea, we basically ensured we wouldn’t meet ever, except for the very specific encounter of sharing a bunk at the convict ship. But you know what? Running to your parents, shouting „adopt me“ wasn’t my first impulse at that.“

„Just running away in shocked silence“, Connor suggested. „Or maybe shouting „take him back, take him back“…“

Gavin ignored the jab (as well as the others’ laughter following it).

„Yeah“ he said, „I don’t think one can adopt adults. Except maybe the nobility, in a symbolic way.“

By now the candle inside the pumpkin lantern was nearly burnt down, but everyone knew they wouldn’t forget what they had seen here ever, even if the letters would have reverted to their original state in daylight the next morning (and indeed they would do that…).

„Just one thing before we return to the shack“, Connor said. „By chance or by design, we did spread out our initials quite a bit. There’s space in between for many more.“

„What’s your angle?“ Daniel wondered.

„That there could be others with us in the other world, who aren’t here tonight in ours, so their letters wouldn’t have copied over. Like Hank… father. Or your mystery brother, the kind and gentle O’Malley.“

„I wouldn’t mind John being with us here in chains“, Daniel said, „although my wish was to look into a world where his bones grow cold in an unmarked grave. For what he has done to Gavin and how he’s treating us, I wouldn’t feel regret if I had killed him with my own hands!“

„Uh-uh“, Connor disagreed. „I don’t think this is how it works. John Phillips is wealthy and favored, god wouldn’t make a world where John loses everything. That’s not how divine grace works. More likely, if he and my father are here with us tonight, then not because John’s life took a turn for the worse, but because ours took a turn for the better.“

„I don’t know“… Daniel mumbled, only half convinced. „But it’s a nice thought, I guess.“

And with that they went back to the hut and they hit the hay and when the sun came up they had forgotten all their dreams from that night, but they wouldn’t forget what had transpired at the carved rock.

The changed initials are taken from my rotational save:

Connor Archer-Anderson (Not Hank's son here, but adopted by him. Married to one Kara Archer.) Rika Mack (Originally Rika Tachibana, "Boek" is only an invention for the historical save.) Tina Chen (Not married, but in a relationship with Gavin and Daniel.) Chris Miller (Married to Susan Haywood, who will join the cast in the winter round.) Daniel Reed (Married to Gavin, but his birth name was Phillips, not O'Malley.) John Phillips in this save is dead and was indeed killed by Daniel.

[a-place-for-stupid-things]

Concept Dump 3

9:00pm Somewhere in the Slums of Neon City.

Her door was open, in fact, it wasn't on its hinges anymore.

Someone had found her, her heart was racing as she was contemplating whether to run or face the music.

She chose the latter, because if they found her here, they'd find her anywhere.

She scanned her apartment using her drones, nothing.

There was nothing inside, all her security systems, code, everything broken into, defeated and for good measure the intruder decided to just break down her door.

The thing that pissed her off was that from the recordings of the break in, was that all it took was a single kick on her door, immediately bypassing all her electronic countermeasures.

Occam's razor. She should've expected it, thought about that first. But when you have a security system that puts mega corps to shame, you don't really think about that.

10:30pm

She had been waiting, scanning the net, police, criminal, everything for signs. There were none.

Who did this? Was she safe? It was late, curfew in effect.

The Oni had been terrorizing the corps in the city, the bombing of Oracle ltd. and the distributions of their "Singularity Program." was just icing on the cake at that point.

She had been following his activities around the world, hacking comms and cameras, creating websites because she was fascinated by him, The Oni.

The Only thing she hated about the Oni was the curfews were because of him, now she couldn't get takeout from her favourite ramen shop.

She now resolved to return back to her home, it had her stuff, and it had been long enough.

11:30pm

Outside her door she assessed the damage. A single kick broke the lock, this was enough to open the door immediately and get in, it didn't even trigger her alarm because she was so used to electronic attacks.

Then for good measure the intruder removed the door from its hinges even looking at her hidden camera.

How?! The camera was small, hidden, and yet he knew.

Then finally as a flex the intruder just cracked all her electronic defense measures, even adding documentations as to how he did it.

"Arrogant bastard" She would mutter under her breath.

"I am, aren't I."

He was still inside her house. But she searched every nook and cranny with her drones and scanners. Nothing came up, IR, UV, Thermal, Bio. Nothing.

Hear heart was in her throat, she was panicking, was this how she died?

"Your pizza is cold, and your taste is shit. Really anchovies? Atleast add other topics to compliment them, or do you like the fishy taste mixing with the carboard cheese of Doctor Joes?"

He was mocking her.

"Look at me when I am talking to you, Sophia Newman."

He knew her name. She turned to face the man and to her surprise it was none other than the Oni himself.

"Good girl." the Oni said looking her over "You and your friends have been stalking me, and it is annoying."

Was the Oni about to kill her? Fear became excitement, she knew she shouldn't feel so excited but then, she had been following the oni for nearly a year, and now he was here in front of her. She was giddy.

"Tsk." The Oni noticed her change of demeanour and while annoyed he was also amused at this sudden change, it wasn't unexpected just incredibly weird.

"Try not to fangirl too much with the proposition I am going to give you INK."

INK nodded her head a bit too eagerly and her glasses came flying off much to her shock and the Oni's amusement.

"Right." The Oni said chuckling "Look, while I dislike you for stalking me and creating that god awful website for weebs and shitters, I know just what you're capable of."

The Oni moved closer to her. Her heart was beating rapidly.

"You saved my life and identity after that mistake in Aurora. You wiped the footage, all of it. Thank you." He said, the normally robotic and partly distorted voice that usually came from the Oni was normal, sincere.

She was screaming internally, this was too much she was overloading.

"I want to ask if you'd like to enter a partnership, after all I am pretty sure you know who I am at this point, and I could use a skilled hacker assistant, I have been following your work."

OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH.

The Oni would sigh "I think I may have been too forward with you Sophia, I should have known you'd act like this. After all, we've been classmates for years now."

"WHAT?!" INK would blurt out shocked, confused, flustered, the Oni was her classmate?

"I'll leave it a that because I am sure you heard me, you have been hanging onto my words after all." He said smugly "Here, when you put yourself together contact me."

Her Dataslate would ping, she would recieve a new contact. When she looked up there was a dissipating cloud of black smoke, the Oni was gone.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Thoughts raced in Sophia's head, the Oni was her classmate, but who?

She would resolve to figure things out, but first she needed to 1. Contact the Oni when she calmed down, and 2. Fix her door and security by incorporating the Oni's suggestions.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

Left leaners want to talk about gun crimes and suicide statistics when talking about New York State Rifle & Pistol Association vs. Bruen, that is disingenuous. No one is going to spend a few hundred dollars, (234.00 for my County in Nevada) go through an 8 hour class on all the laws, all the places you can and can't go with a concealed firearm, spend a few hours on the range to then take the certificate back to your local Sheriff, do a full background check, wait up to 120 days to get your CCW Card and then go shoot a place up. NO ONE IS DOING THAT. Every criminal who is going to do criminal shit, is just going to do criminal shit, and when they do, while you're hiding in you'er shitter stall or under a desk your going to be begging for someone with a gun to come save you. Remember that. Remember that at every shooting every place they have ever happened in the US EVERY SINGLE PERSON has wanted someone else with a gun to get there as fast as possible to save them. Maybe, and this is a wild concept, you learn how to be your own first responder, you take some personal responsibility for your own life and be hard to kill. Or, defer it to someone else, who may or may not be there on time to save you or those you love from a criminal intent on killing you and them. 1. Learn how to defend yourself 2. Be hard to Kill 3. BE HARD TO KILL

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#158

“Well you fucking showed up. I’m surprised. Most fags run screaming. You know what’s expected of you at this moment. Give me your car keys, your telephone, and your wallet. I see you wore a t-shirt and shorts. Good, that will make stripping out of them easier. Now take them and throw them in the fire pit behind you. Now do it!… Atta fag!… Come here. Put this collar and this padlock on and hand me the keys....

"Also do these wrist and ankle cuffs too. They won’t need to be locked in place. Now, I fucked you twice in town. The first time to see if you can take a savage fucking with my beer can dick. You were able to take it with right amount of difficulty. After running a background check on you with my friends in the Sheriff’s Dept., I know you have serious debt and no criminal activity other than being busted at a local pickle park for taking it up the shitter. I bet you didn’t know I did that. When I came to your shithole apartment for the second time, I wanted to see what the fuck I could do to you. After draining my bladder on your faggot face and soaking your bed, you ate my barely wiped ass crack. You took my belting too.

"But it was when I kicked you in the balls and you crawled back to lick my boots was when I knew I had to own you. I could see it in your eyes when I left you wanted that. You seem smart enough to realize that I owned you right then and there. This is my cabin where you will be kept. You will never view this as your home. You do not call anything yours; you have no possessions. This is not one of these power exchange things. No pussy safe words. No, to me you are an object for me to use as I want. I won’t ever use your name. For now you are Shithead. I am your Lord and Master. You may address me as either. You will not leave the cabin grounds unless I decide. That collar you have on is a shock collar, like the ones they put on dogs. But it is even more high tech. You cannot go any more than 200 feet from the cabin in any direction or you will be shocked. I can control it from my keyring or an app on my phone. Yes, I can shock you from anywhere in the world. I also have security cameras all over the property, both inside and outside the cabin. I know what you are up to. I may look like some stupid redneck, but shithead, you will learn that I am not.

"Follow me inside. As you can see, it’s one big room. Now another thing this App does is that it tells me how much battery it has. Every day you will charge it by standing in that corner. The plug does not have much wire to work with, so you will plug the charger into the battery port under your chin. The length requires you to face the corner. You will need to stand there for two hours, at least every day. I get notified when you plug in, when you unplug and what your battery level is throughout. You can set a cooking timer to measure two hours.

"Over there is my bedroom. You are never to use the bed unless I tell you. You will sleep on the fag mat next to it. There’s a guest room over there. Every so often I bring friends up here. You will be expected to serve them as I instruct. Now there’s the TV. You can watch it but with a limited selection. This place is wired for Wifi, but you won’t have a device to use it. You will be here alone pretty much all the time. There will be times where I have to be in town for a number of days in a row, other times I am here for weeks.

"My business is none of yours. Now your background check indicates that you went to a rather impressive culinary school for two years, but your employment history shows that you did nothing with it. Don’t much care why. So I trust you know how to cook. The kitchen is over there. You will have a full fridge. When I come up here on the weekend, I’ll bring the groceries. If there is any special ingredient you want, you will let me know. We can discuss if you want to put together a garden. Mind you, that is a luxury. I have never offered something like that to any previous shithead I kept here. But it will be good for me in this case if I do. When I am here, you will naturally cook and wait on me. I expect some damned good food. The previous shitheads didn’t have a clue. So don’t make me regret offering you this luxury.

"My bathroom is in there. You won’t use this room without my permission. If you need to wash your hands, the kitchen sink will do. There’s an outdoor shower that I hooked up a douche hose to. Of course, there’s no privacy. You will most certainly not use my toilet. The woods behind the cabin is good enough for you. If you need to wash up your cunt afterwards, the douche hose will be fine for power washing. So this is it. Did you douche out before coming here tonight? Good.

"Now one final thing. See that chain hanging from the ceiling. Notice the hook at the bottom of the chain. That’s where your wrist cuffs will go. Now. Reach up. There. Got it! Now there are hooks in the floor that will stretch your legs out. Now the positioning of the hooks are not only to painfully stretch you out so you can’t move. No, I designed that exact spot because there’s enough room in front of you and behind you so that I can get a full swing of a whip. None of that sissy shit of building up slowly. I wanna fucking make you scream right off. But my goal is to make you bleed. Every night I am here you will be whipped. It’s usually after I feed you through the rimseat. Hey, you get to find out what your meals taste like once I get done with it. But tonight you have to realize the severity of not following my wishes first. Don’t want to eat your dinner? You’ll understand the consequences when I will take it out on your back, your chest, your ass, and even your little pecker. Always at the end of the beating the shithead is so exhausted that getting fucked is no longer enjoyable, which is fine by me. Every night it will be ‘Feed, Bleed, and Seed’. You ready to scream your head off? I know I am.”