#tw vehicular manslaughter
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To the jackass who almost hit me because he just had to be on the freeway and then waved as if that would erase the fact that if I hadn't looked I'd be dead: This is why a yellow light is not a challenge. It is a warning. It is up to you to heed that warning. Unless you want to be on trial for vehicular manslaughter, I would recommend you heed that warning.
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Do you want to steal a forklift and commit vehicular homicide together
Sure! Just don't let the cops see me, I already have a huge criminal record
@utatane-piko-official wanna join us?!
(ooc: so Tei has committed vehicular homicide before, R. I. P. Whoever it was)
#sukone tei official#vocaloid#vocaloid official#sukone tei#yandere#utau official#asks#tw murder#tw vehicular manslaughter
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Hi, for the WIP ask game
Things just as bad or worse
Theon and Jon in the Crypts
Pretty please 🥰
Thank you so much @owlsinathens!
tw: Drunk driving, vehicular manslaugher, child death
Things just as bad or worse
This is hilarious that it is the first one I am being asked about and yet it is the hardest to explain maybe? But that is why it is a WIP lol. This idea has definitely grown over the years. It originally began as an RP modern verse on @theon-sea-reek where Theon had killed two children- Jack and Billy Miller while driving drunk. But now... it has morphed into something... weird. Basically now the idea is that Theon is in prison in Modern Times (Still deciding whether I am making it our world or modern Westeros. Probably our world. I am also not sure if I am going to try to make the Miller's boys deaths closer to canon, or if I even can- we'll see.) Theon begins to make up stories in his head in order to detach from the reality of prison- which includes Ramsay in some form- and from his own guilt. These "stories" begin to take shape as the asoiaf canon we know but different versions of it. Things that happen in the modern prison reality begin to affect how the story in his head goes and it switches- sometimes it is book canon, sometimes it is show canon, sometimes it is more fanon. The stories eventually become "just as bad or worse" as the reality he is trying to escape. Theon begins to wonder if these stories are actually happening the more real they become and the more lost in them he becomes. Is he losing his mind? Which version of him is true? Does it matter? I have a LOT to plan and consider with this one but I'm really excited about it.
Theon and Jon in the Crypts
This was originally supposed to be written for Greysnow Week. (Alas!) It is a missing scene fic for Season 8. Jon is in the crypts staring up at Lyanna's statue and having extreme angst over Ned and the reveal of his true parentage. At some point he realizes that he is not alone in the crypts... Theon has also come to visit Robb's statue and they have a discussion together that mirrors their Season 7 discussion but also turns it on its head. A bit of it is below:
His mother is a stone statue and his father is a lie. Jon stands in the Crypts seething in anger. Ungrateful. He knows he is ungrateful to feel this way, when Ned Stark sacrificed his honor to protect him. But all he can think about is the last time they spoke. The last time he saw the man he thought was his father.
“The next time we see each other, we'll talk about your mother, I promise,” he had said. Would he have eventually told him? After he had already taken his vows and was safely out of the way? He certainly had no issue with him living out his life in frozen exile. He sent me to the wall without a second thought.
And what of his true father? What would he have wanted him to become? Would he have loved him? Would he have truly accepted him as a trueborn son, as Sam insisted? Or would he just be another shameful stain on his father’s honor, a lone bastard boy in yet a larger castle?
And then there is the loss… the hollow feeling of losing Ned twice. Loss and love mixed with this new feeling of betrayal. It is too much. And what will Daenerys say? What will his sisters say? He doesn’t need this right now.
(cue Theon... to be continued lol)
#ask answered#thanks for the ask!#tw drunk driving#tw vehicular manslaughter#tw child death#theon greyjoy#jon snow#greysnow#my wips#wip game
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`🩸; GORETOBER 2024 (DAY 30)
Aftermath of the "Linda commits vehicular manslaughter" video:
COME GET YOUR FOOD LUCAS HATERS‼️‼️‼️ Also I just realised Lucas is kinda like Jimmy from Mouthwashing if he was blonde (I wanna get into Mouthwashing fully). original by @//real.kitty.channel.afnan on ig
#tw vehicular manslaughter#tw car accident#tw gore#tw blood#trigger warning#between law and morality#🌺 millie's art tag#original character#original characters#art#artwork#artist#digital art#digital artwork#digital artist#artist on tumblr#artist on instagram#oc#oc art#oc artwork#oc artist#fuck lucas
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This is an actual good idea.
A new law in Texas requires convicted drunk drivers to pay child support if they kill a child’s parent or guardian, according to House Bill 393. The law, which went into effect Friday, says those convicted of intoxication manslaughter must pay restitution. The offender will be expected to make those payments until the child is 18 or until the child graduates from high school, “whichever is later,” the legislation says. Intoxication manslaughter is defined by state law as a person operating “a motor vehicle in a public place, operates an aircraft, a watercraft, or an amusement ride, or assembles a mobile amusement ride; and is intoxicated and by reason of that intoxication causes the death of another by accident or mistake.”
Continue Reading.
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hot pink ferrari
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#woe! shitty gif be upon ye!!#this is simultaneously the worst and the best thing I've ever made. everyone admire my creation#I have. zero idea how to create a gif idk how this happened#this process somehow involved both Zoom and Google Slides.#thank you gert for transparent golf cart and Nicholas (himb)#anyways. Happy Vehicular Manslaughter Monday to all who celebrate#not me posting this on a tuesday#the mysterious benedict society#nicholas benedict#ld curtain#flash tw#tw flashing images#just in case. for the text#tmbs#mysterious benedict society
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After spending countless polls low in votes, we get to be hit by Truck-kun again, fam
Poll But It's *Your Fault* for Making Me Watch a GOOD ANIME
I will be done Beastars well before this time tomorrow because why is it this good?? Anyway, here's the pinned post (linked this time (real)). You choose anime to watch so I don't have to.
As always, propaganda* (*I like to yap on the internets) below the poll. You're allowed to reblog if you also wanna annoy your followers with anime. You don't have to know me, follow me, like me, or like/know/have ever watched any of these shows to vote.
Propaganda:
Zombie Land Saga - I love you, unhinged dub of unhinged anime. And, yes, I did just type everything out and then go back and hold down "A".
Fruits Basket 2019 - Yeah, idk what to put here. It's been in polls before. It'll get finished one day. I know there's a dedicated Furuba community that pops up to vote for it now and then. Godspeed, amigos.
Sailor Moon - We resume post-time reset. This option will count for the second season of Sailor Moon (Sailor Moon R).
Kuroko's Basketball - I know, I know. Bat. Hornet's nest. Reblog this post and yell at me in the tags about it. Anyway, I've only ever seen literally one singular character from this that I know of and it's the green-haired glasses guy who looks like he will become my fave so.
Your Lie in April - I think this is your very first chance where I dare you to hurt me. Hurt me. Make me feel pain. The only things I know about this anime are "violin" and "sadness." I could not tell you a singular plot point so I'm going in very blind. Again, godspeed weebs.
Nichijou - My Ordinary Life - I've seen some gifs and images on the dash but never gave this a watch. It seems beautifully animated and a little absurd in a fun way. Also don't answer the question above, just cast a vote.
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I just had the strangest dream.
Essentially, I was gonna be spending two weeks with my estranged paternal family in a house on top of a hill but the whole house was slanted and there were some people a bit older than me that I didn’t know. The reason I was there was because my grandma wanted to show me and my brother off because we’re basically the last redeeming qualities she has. Anyway, I’m anxious the entire time because this house is too messed up and it’s connected to a historical house that’s even MORE slanted and I just felt bad vibes all around. So I complain to my mom who is somehow also there in some sort of little pocket bedroom room-dimension thing with a bottle of wine and a really low ceiling connected to ANOTHER house that I wasn’t allowed in. So I went to the store to buy a tent and a sleeping bag so I could at least sleep outside on level ground and I don’t remember ANYTHING of the drive but I eventually end up inside of a children’s store that’s very long and narrow for a building and it’s like an early 2000’s/late 90’s off-brand toy store with liminal space vibes and also kids doing schoolwork in the middle of the night. So, general store and daycare? I find my way out because it’s like a maze in that bitch and I get back to my car, it’s raining, and there are these two gangs there somewhere in the row of cars behind me in the parking lot with homemade guns (among other gangs dealing drugs) and it’s clear that a gunfight is about to happen but I gotta get that damn sleeping bag. So I get in my car and back up to go around them but somehow drive through all of them and then I flee the scene and then all the sudden I’m on a rooftop maze where it’s like one infinite randomized rooftop with sections; there was a dystopian rooftop playground there with no safety regulation and then it’s the afternoon and I’m in another town now in the middle of the day on a bike jumping over buildings and then I fall into a really deep pool as a man I don’t know and I’m trying to resurface but I can’t so I’m breathing in my own air bubbles on the way up and I keep looking to see the surface just as far away as it was before, and then before I asphyxiate myself in my dream, I wake up.
#dream#dreams#i need a therapist#because what the fuck was that#tw mentions of guns#tw mentions of vehicular manslaughter
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anyone want to make a cool $100? all you have to do is track me down and hit me with your car
#the reward is negotiable#and will be paid seven days after confirmation of my death. like in my will or whatever#im flexible on the method as well. honestly vehicular manslaughter might be a bit too survivable and also painful for my taste#….probabky should tag this with like#suicidality tw#maybe? something like that#im half joking btw#‘don’t make those kinds of jokes! it’s not helpful!!!#tch. my repertoire is limited as it is. without sewer slide jokes i have nothing but simpsons quotes and bad puns#and ive lost much of the former#thought the point was doing what im good at#im good at nothing so i have to settle for using whatever ive got……#to the void with love
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Mechtober prompt 29/day 29-crossover
this one is going to turn into a longfic at some point as well, bc I just think its silly and i love doing crossovers they drive me insane
@mechtober-2024
Mechanical Bats - Reality666Rift999 - The Mechanisms (Band) [Archive of Our Own]
tw; cursing, mentioned murder, mentioned vehicular manslaughter, mentioned physical assault, mentioned crimes, probably more, let me know what I should add!
---
“Cass!” Steph called, causing the black-haired woman to turn towards her. “Where are you going? Tim was gonna drag us all to that show thing?”
“Oh,” Cassandra hummed. “That was tonight?’
“Yep!” Stephanie replied, popping the ‘p’.
Cassandra nodded, taking a moment to think. “I will be there, I’m meeting someone. A friend. I will– hm… They will be there, too.”
“Ah, okay, okay. Be safe? And punch ‘em in the gut if they do anything!”
“They will not. …Would probably enjoy it, too… Hm.” Cass waved, and turned, leaving Stephanie confused in the manor’s foyer as Cass left Wayne Manor.
Stephanie sighed, shaking her head, before turning and heading back further into the manor.
—--
“Good morning my dearest Gunpowder!” Marius grinned as he sat down in his plush seat. This asylum really knew how to treat their doctors!
Tim, on the other hand, looked about ready to blow the place up–which, to be fair, was their normal. They sighed dramatically, sitting upside down on the plastic chair.
“Oh, Marius. I’ve smuggled in only about fifteen pounds of plastic explosives, I’ve found answers to all that Nygma guys’ riddles and he’s run out of things to ask, how do you think? I’m bored! There aren’t even any octokittens around to keep me entertained! This place is so boring!”
“You’ve been here for a week, Gunpowder…��
“And I’m bored! Which crime even was it that got me sent here? There’s at least a dozen to pick from!”
“Uh…” Marius looked through the folder he’d been given. “Aggravated assault and first degree vehicular manslaughter! Damn, they didn’t even pick any of the good ones.”
Tim groaned loudly. “This is stupid! This place is boring! And clearly they don’t give a shit, they hired you of all people!”
“I am perfectly qualified, thank you very much! They do seem to be quite severely understaffed for the amount of criminals here, though.”
“Exactly! We should just break out of here, use those fifteen pounds of explosives and ditch this place to get back to having some fun.”
“Oh!” Marius clapped his hands. “Funny enough, that reminds me! We’re doing a show tonight at Calypso’s, you want to come? If I help you, you won’t even need to worry about using up your explosives just yet, I’ll smuggle some guns in later! The security is tight but, well, has that ever stopped us?”
“Yeah, well, you can just summon things from fuckin’ nowhere, so I think you’re an outlier.”
“Well it’s not like I can do that on purpose, that just kind of happens! A surprise, really, that they haven’t thrown me in here with the others because of my violin thing, actually.”
“My guess? They can’t because you don’t have a known criminal record.”
“So far! The game is young, we got here what, a month ago? Much to do! Many crimes to commit! And there’s superheroes, that’s gonna be fun to fuck around with. I think Jonny’s planning to start a war already!”
“Of course he is! It’s Jonny, mate doesn’t know how to do jack shit that doesn’t involve violence and bloodshed.”
“Well… yeah, it is Jonny. He’s violent and chaotic and that’s how we like him!”
“Hm. Usually. Anyway, concert tonight?”
“Right! It’s at about, uh… What kind of clock do they use around here again?”
“Twenty-four hours, generally.”
“Right! So then the concert’s at about 19:30 tonight, so I’ll come break you out around 17:45?”
“Amazing!” Gunpowder clapped excitedly. “Finally some kind of fun!”
“Of course! Now,” Marius grinned, “on to the therapy session!”
Gunpowder stared at Marius, mechanical eyes whirring as they zoomed in and out. “Don’t do this to me, Mari. Please.”
“Well it’s what I was hired to do~” Marius’s grin widened. “So, where were we last session?”
“Ugh…”
—--
Calypso’s was a new bar and grill that seemed to spring up from nowhere, swiftly gaining popularity for its declaration of being a ‘Neutral Zone’, good drinks, and live music. Particularly, the live music.
The music was always performed by an indie band that similarly appeared out of nowhere. With their surprise arrival on the scene, they quickly gained popularity alongside the bar. Their songs were violent and cruel, speaking of endless death and destruction and war as if they were the greatest thrills one could seek. The bassist owned and ran the bar, and the band performed at other small, local bars and venues whenever Calypso’s itself was closed. Overall, besides the violence and bloodshed in their songs, they were largely unassuming.
Except for the fact that the guitarist was arrested and sentenced to five years in Arkham for driving into and killing a pedestrian before beating someone half to death with an unlit scented candle, the bassist was clearly making some kind of name for themself in the criminal underground based on the hushed whispers heard around the city, and Tim was utterly transfixed by them.
Bruce Wayne did not like them, their music was loud, bloody, and confusing and they were almost definitely all criminals. But, Tim liked them, and was dragging everyone to Calypso’s to see the band perform, and Bruce wanted more than anything to support his kids. And that’s how he found himself being dragged to Calypso’s at six in the evening, Tim talking excitedly to Steph while Jason and Dick argued about something. Probably a book, Bruce had stopped paying attention to them a while ago.
Barbara would’ve come, but she didn’t want to and had elected to have a quiet night in the Clock Tower, watching over Gotham in case of an emergency.
Either way, Bruce was using this as a perfect time to properly investigate the band running the bar. Going as Batman would only raise suspicions of the bar owners, show that he was on to whatever it was they were doing under the table; it was risky, and gathering intel would be harder to do if he had to fight off whatever security force worked for the bar.
But when Tim had invited the whole family out to see the band, well. That made things significantly easier.
Entering the bar, the first thing Bruce noticed was the smell. There was, naturally, the thick stench of alcohol wafting through the air, the thick scent of cigarette smoke, but it smelt… A lot more clean. Of all the bars he’d been to, as Batman or as Bruce Wayne, it was probably the one that smelt the nicest and the cleanest.
He wasn’t sure if that was weird or not, but he still noted it.
They weren’t very far into the building when Cassandra walked up to them, waving with a small smile. Stephanie grinned excitedly. “So, where’s your friend?” was the first thing Steph asked. Bruce sighed. Cass didn’t seem phased, though, and simply offered a small smile.
“They will be here,” she said, nodding. “C’mon, I’ve got us a table.”
Tim fell into step with Cass quickly, the two leading the way through the bar while the rest of them followed.
“This is going to be so cool,” Tim said, grinning and snapping his fingers. Cass nodded, that small smile still on her lips.
“It’s going to be very fun.”
“I wonder what they’re going to play? I’ve got a few ideas…” Tim continued to ramble, Cass nodding along while leading them to the booth she’d picked out. Bruce bit his tongue, and let them talk about the band in peace. (Tim rarely smiled so brightly anymore, still a bit upset about Damian’s arrival– he deserved a few things to smile about.)
Bruce surveyed the other patrons, keeping an eye out for anyone familiar or any of his typical rogues. Bruce didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, and sat down. The booth had a nearly perfect view of the stage, which seemed to be in the process of being set up. There was a booth ahead of them that was closer, but no one was sitting in it yet. There were several menus placed around the table, and Bruce decided to survey it. There were a lot of strange items, ones that he wouldn’t have expected to see at a dingy, brand new bar-and-grill that just popped up. Alongside the standard items– cheeseburgers, nachos, fried pickles, and beer– there were things like steak, old, well-aged wine, and baked alaskas. It was… odd.
“So…” Dick said, tapping his fingers along the table, “you’ve talked a bit about this band, but what exactly are we signing up for?”
Tim just grinned. “Oh you’ll see.”
Dick just rolled his eyes. Bruce glanced around at the other patrons again, and at the stage. A few people had gathered on it. They appeared to be talking about something. One of the people on the stage was tall, wearing a long, pinstriped trench coat, while one of the others was fidgeting with one of the microphone wires in a brown leather vest, and a white shirt, and the other was very stiff and wooden in their movements, wearing a uniform that Bruce assumed was some kind of military uniform that he just wasn’t familiar with. Other than their outfits, nothing stuck out about them as odd, and so Bruce turned away.
Jason was demanding something from Tim, probably more of an explanation, while Steph stared intensely at the menu as if she wasn’t going to order the nachos, like she always did when at a new place that served them. Dick was also observing the menu with intensity, while Cass watched the stage with interest.
“You can’t just bring us here with no explanations and expect us to sit idly by!” Jason proclaimed.
“I can, and I did,” Tim replied. “Besides, out of everyone, I think you’ll like their songs the most. Maybe they’ll appeal to Dick’s inner theatre kid–”
“Hey!”
“–but I think they’ll appeal to you a lot. There’s a lot of bloodshed!”
“I don’t only like violence,” Jason wrinkled his nose. “I don’t even necessarily like violence. It’s just that it’s useful sometimes.”
“Well, there’s a lot of classic literature drawn from, in their songs, too. There.”
Jason looked like he wanted to hop across the table and strangle Tim, but he refrained, which Bruce was thankful for. A waiter stopped by, and asked if they were ready to order something.
Everyone simply got water or sweet tea to drink, and Steph ordered the extra-spicy nachos, Dick got a double-patty cheeseburger, and Cass got mac-and-cheese. The waiter took their orders with a sure nod, and disappeared off somewhere else. Everything was going smoothly, so far. It was calm, and there wasn’t anything odd going on around them. It put Bruce on edge– when everything was too calm, too nice. Something had to go wrong, soon.
Bruce glanced at the stage, and saw several more people having gathered, tuning instruments and getting set up for the show. As he looked over the stage, one of the people up there–the bassist, he assumed from the instrument across their shoulders–glanced at him, directly in his eyes, and grinned. It was only for a moment, but it sent chills down Bruce’s spine, and Bruce tore his eyes away.
Cass turned back to the others, and announced, “The show’s starting soon.”
Tim jumped and turned towards the stage, grinning excitedly.
As everyone’s attention drifted towards the stage, the person in the brown leather vest grabbed a microphone, saying into it, “Test, test. Our audio working alright?” The sound echoed throughout the bar, but it didn’t break or crack in any way. Bruce followed the person’s eyes towards a booth towards the center of the room, where someone was seemingly working their audio. They gave a thumbs up, and the one in the vest turned to the one in the probably-a-military-uniform. “Toy Soldier, test that mic for us.”
“Will do, Old Chap!” The stiff one saluted, and leaned into the microphone to sing a couple of scales.
The band continued doing a few tests, until they were satisfied that everything was working and sounded alright. With those out of the way, the one at the microphone in the center-front stage, nodded and started talking again.
“Right, well, I must say– welcome one and all! Returning patrons and new faces alike! I’m sure you know the drill by now!” They gestured to one of the string players, who started playing a vibrant and energetic tune that was quickly joined in on by the rest of the band.
And with that, they started singing.
“Like whiskey laced with gasoline, We’re deadly when we’re drunk
So shut your face and settle down, You sneering little punk!
‘Cause space is vast, You are small, It’s black and bitter cold
The book is lying open,
There are tales to be told!”
The seemingly lead-singer was grinning wildly, as he sang.
“The fire is burning lower and the Stars are shining bright
We’ve stories grim as pistol lead to tell to you tonight!
So grab yourself a mug of beer, gin or vodka, hold it near
The book is lying open,
There are tales to be told!”
Tim and Cass were clapping along, as was most of the bar.
“Killers, renegades, liars and thieves!” The lead singer called out, “Welcome! For those of you unfamiliar, we are the Mechanisms! The Crew of the Starship Aurora, roaming through the universe in search of adventure, seeking fun, enjoying a good spot of violence here and there, and looking, most of all, for a good story. But also, mostly the violence.” They shrugged and grinned. “Let me introduce to you my Crew! First off, we have Drumbot Brian, our ship’s pilot and–naturally–our drummer!” There was a cheer from the crowd, and the person in a top hat with brass-painted– painted? From where Bruce was sitting, he almost couldn’t tell if Drumbot Brian had face paint on or if he was actually made of brass– smiled and waved, grinning. “There’s Raphaella la Cognizi, our keys player and resident science officer!” The one behind the keyboard jumped slightly, and smiled widely, waving as her mechanical wings fluttered. “And of course, our ship’s quote-un-quote ‘doctor’, Baron Marius von Raum on violin! He’s neither a baron, nor a doctor.” One of the violinists grinned and waved with a black, metal hand, before returning to playing. “My dumbass sister, on viola, Nastya Rasputina!” The woman on the viola flipped the lead singer off, adjusted her glasses, and returned to her playing as well. The crowd still cheered, though. “Our beloved and be-loathed archivist, Ivy Alexandria, on just a truly unfathomable amount of instruments.” The redhead waved, a small smile on their face.
“On harp and lyre, our Navigator Lyfrassir Edda!” The dark skinned person sitting next to a decent sized harp waved as well, their silver hair glowing slightly iridescent under the light, looking at them directly for too long left colorful dark-spots in Bruce’s vision and gave him a headache. And returning from the shortest hiatus ever, our Master-at-Arms and guitarist, Gunpowder Tim makes her daring return!” There was an uproarious cheer throughout the bar, and Gunpowder Tim smiled, giving small bows around the room with a wild grin. Her presence caught Bruce’s eye, as she was the one that was supposed to be in Arkham for manslaughter. He had to make a note to call Gordon, to check on the asylum and make sure no one else had broken out once they were done here… “The Toy Soldier is… here, for some reason, to sing and play the glockenspiel and mandolin. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it.” Jonny gestured to the stiff one, who waved excitedly.
“I’m just happy to be involved here!” The Toy Soldier declared.
“Yes, we’re aware. And of course, everyone give a warm, warm welcome, to our host, the owner of this here bar, our dearest quartermaster and bassist, Ashes O’Reilly!” There was another cheer, and the bassist grinned, though they didn’t react much more than that. “And lastly, though never the least, there’s myself! Your humble narrator, Jonny d’Ville, captain of our amazing starship!”
And then, as if it was some kind of cue that Bruce didn’t get, several people in the bar (including Cass and Tim) and on the stage yelled out, “First Mate!”
Jonny d’Ville sighed dramatically, but there was a subtle smirk on his face. “Really, I should expect this by now, no one ever respects my authority.”
“You don’t really have any,” Ashes said, “here in my bar. Technically.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
They let the music play for a moment, before Jonny began singing again.
The show continued on for a while, playing an album that Tim had excitedly called ‘Once Upon a Time (in Space)’, that didn’t last nearly as long as Bruce was expecting. It was a retelling of several classic fairy tales, set in a sci-fi, war-torn world. And while Bruce definitely wouldn’t call it anything he found particularly interesting, the story was good and the atmosphere was strangely warm. (It was a bonus that Cass and Tim were getting so excited and clapping or cheering along to the music, that they enjoyed it so much.) Their food arrived shortly after the first song, ‘Tales to be Told’, according to Cass, and it was surprisingly good. Especially for a new bar run by someone who didn’t seem to exist a few weeks ago. As the concert wore on and ended, there was a loud cheer, and the band started to put things away.
Ashes put their bass away, and Bruce watched as the possibly-metal man approached them. They had a conversation, before Drumbot Brian rolled his eyes and bowed slightly to them (despite being nearly a foot and a half taller than them), before walking away, and then Ashes turned around and locked eyes with Bruce again, grinning.
They walked over, and Cass grinned as they approached. Tim’s eyes widened, when he saw them approaching. Ashes leaned on the pillar that their booth was attached to, grinning a bit at Cassandra.
“Hey, Cassie,” they said, surveying the table, “so this the surprise you mentioned earlier?”
Cass nodded. “Lucky coincidence,” she said. “I forgot they were coming tonight.”
“Ah.” Ashes grinned. Steph swung her head wildly between the two of them, from Ashes to Cass and back to the bassist.
“Cass? Your friend is the fucking owner?!” Steph asked.
Cass grinned and nodded.
“Yep,” Ashes said, grinning and slipping one of their hands into their pockets. “Ashes O’Reilly, owner of Calypso’s, and a friend of Cassie’s. They/them pronouns, preferably. Nice to meet you all.” Ashes offered a hand to everyone, Tim was still shell shocked, but everyone else was mostly able to shake their hand. Ashes offered their hand to Bruce, and he hesitated, before gripping their hand tightly. Their hand was almost uncomfortably warm.
“Bruce Wayne,” Bruce replied, “nice to meet you as well.”
#purgatory creates#purgatory vents#the mechanisms#mechtober 2024#mechtober#the mechs#fanfiction#fanfic#dc universe#dc comics#batman#dc x the mechs#bruce wayne#tim drake#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#cass cain#jason todd#ashes o'reilly#gunpowder tim#jonny d'ville#marius von raum#the toy soldier#timeline? what timeline this is a superhero series nothing makes sense and nothing is linear#ask to tag#they're so silly to me
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Thousands of pedestrians die in the U.S alone every year. Lots of people have experienced trauma relating to this.
I will never understand why it isn't more common to trigger tag this topic.
This post is all screenshots. No image ID. I can't even use the filtering feature which would catch text.
#i would add an image id but i shouldn't for mental health reasons#reading this was not fun for me.#btw pls tag your i'll hit you with my car joke posts#none of this is directed at the person i reblogged from. i dont even know them i got one of their posts recommended and saw this#also yeah op is being really mean by screenshotting that#tw car accident#car accident#traffic accident#hit with car#hit by a car#vehicular manslaughter#death mention tw
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OC tober day 6 and Goretober!
Oc Past:
This technically the past of Hazuki Adiu, from day 1, in relation to the vehicular manslaughter fun fact.
Childhood:
She had like a pretty normal childhood, except she was often lonely and had some trouble making friends.
When she was 16 when people at her school started to make fun of her because her parents made adult films, and that was how she found out. This permanently wrecked the relationship with her parents and she had a really hard time even talking to them.
The Incident:
Hazuki got accepted into a college and was admitted. She went to an orientation thing of some kind on July 10th but on the way home it was storming and raining heavily.
The weather was so bad it was causing major mudslides and she could barely see ahead of her. Out of nowhere Yumekio Hiroyuki ran out in front of the car and was struck. Despite Hazuki’s cautious driving when Yumekio was hit she was knocked off the steep road and rolled a long ways down. Hazuki spent two hours trying to look over the side of the steep hill, digging in the mud trying to find the girl. After being gone for hours her parents drove out to find her. Her mother drove her home their car while her father drove home Hazuki’s car. Her parents both assumed that she had hit a deer or some other kind of animal.
Escalation:
Hazuki was so distraught by the incident she would not leave her bed. In July 18th her parents admitted her to a mental health institution. The conditions of her treatment worsened considerably over time and were extremely unethical. The head doctors treated Hazuki like a pest and more than always invalidated her experiences.
Hazuki was only able to get out because a new therapist that transferred to the Hospital encouraged Hazuki to report this to her parents. This triggered a massive lawsuit against the hospital from multiple families and former patients. Hazuki and the therapist and many others testified against the head of the institution and the head doctor. They were all fired, they lost their licenses, and many served jail time.
The Next Stage:
Hazuki didn’t stick around long after that, she took all of the belongings that she could and piled them up into her car and drove away. She didn’t have a lot of money but she managed to pull some together while staying in a cheap motel. She also did an online college course while working part time at a Jamba Juice down the block during the day and a Radio Shack at night. She saved a bunch of money on gas from not having to drive to work and she sold a bunch of her possessions until she finally had enough to rent a small house nearby to both of her jobs. She continued to work two jobs until she completed her online college classes and got a bachelor's degree in computer science. It wasn’t long until she received a job for a editorial company where the pay was decent and she had the benefit of being able to work from home. For her it was easy work, not something that she had ever dreamed of doing but she was fine to settle with it.
Addiction(drug and sh tw):
She really only would eat Zucchini and microwaveable meals, occasionally she would cook for herself but only if she felt up to it, she ended up becoming extremely skinny and affected her stamina and exhaustion levels. She wasn’t doing well though, there was an intense trauma still left open from her time in the hospital, she didn’t know what to do, so sometimes she’d drink, and sometimes she’d smoke, then she tried weed, then worse, and worse and worse, and she was hooked. At a point her heart was all she could hear, it was both beating faster than she’d ever felt but also slower than she’d ever heard, but she wasn’t sure which was right. She was very lucky though, someone called the hospital and she survived. If nearly dying didn’t scare her into sobriety then waking up in a hospital did. The Doctors would lean over and ask questions about who she was and the police and insurance. She got scared and left one night without being discharged.
Sobriety:
She returned home and threw out anything harmless that was still in her house. The first sixth months of sobriety were the hardest for her, she was cold and then hot, shivering, and puking but she didn’t give in. She refused to get professional help and struggled through this alone. The symptoms of withdrawal lessened over time, she occasionally would have a beer or smoke a blunt but she never had another drug or took another pill whether it was medicine or not. She rarely went to stores or public spaces anymore, she was burnt out and it was harder for her to recover from it, then it was for her to recover from her Heroin addiction; It wasn’t until her 7th year living alone did she find herself recovering from being burnt out. She started eating proper meals again and went out on walks and drove to places just because. She knew only a part of her was healed though but she would never get back to where she once was.
GORETOBER: Bugs!!!
I did a quick doodle for today!
Yumekio Hiroyuki is a very famous figure/from a famous family within my OC world. So Hazuki would constantly see pictures of the woman she accidentally killed that she now projects the faces seen on the magazines in a state of decay. She wouldn’t be smiling, but that’s all she knows about her accidental victim
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Jane 4
Whumptober 22 - vehicular manslaughter...kinda. Edit: whoops, it's vehicle accident today!
TW: death, stabbing. BBU.
Jane 1, and 2, and 3, and the interlude.
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Florence in one hand, knife in the other, Jane was a hunter and she was ready. Maybe the one called Boo, who had been her Mistress’s first hunter, would have been able to end this without violence, but she was not them. They had failed, and if they had failed, it needed a different approach. She was not going to take no for an answer.
Stepping in from the garden had them immediately face to face with Kamala, who appeared with a nervous frown. Kamala, Jane could tell, was a Platonic. She ingratiated herself as best she could, no matter the situation. She had appointed herself the caretaker for Florence because that was what she knew. But she was not prepared for conflict.
“What’s going on?” she asked, eyes moving from Jane’s one hand to the other. Was she afraid of the knife? Did she understand? Or did she still think another pet would be harmless?
Florence spoke before Jane. “Jane is taking me to the front garden to show me weeding. You can stay.”
Their fingers wove between hers, making the handhold more mutual.
Kamala’s frown did not ease. “I’ll come with you, if that’s okay. I’d like to watch out for when Avis and Tenten get back.”
It didn’t matter. The knife would or wouldn’t be used. Jane moved to pull them onwards, but Florence resisted. “Is Roman still in his room?” they asked, probably trying to give Kamala a distraction.
“Yes. But I think he can manage. He is very shy.”
Florence nodded. Not knowing or caring, as long as he was out the way, Jane tugged them on through the hall again, and this time, Florence allowed it. Each step brought them closer.
The hallway was wide, with solid wooden floorboards and aged wallpaper around it. The doors were locked, but Avis didn’t run the kind of shelter where the rescues were locked in. In the light of the window, Jane searched for and found the key. She unlocked the door.
Florence resisted slightly as they stepped outside again. She pulled them hard enough that it didn’t matter. Kamala was still following behind them.
“Um, Jane?” she said. Her next attempt. “I think we should stay inside. It’s possible that someone took Boo, so it might not be safe.”
“The garden is outside,” Florence said. They were trying to keep her out of it. Some sentimental attachment.
“There are fences though,” Kamala replied, her eyes round with worry. “Mrs Kaur is going to be here soon. She might say it’s okay. But for now, let’s be careful.”
“Be quiet, Kamala.” Jane’s voice came out hard and cold, like Mistress Tara. “You go back inside.”
“I’m going to stay with Florence,” Kamala responded. She stared in confusion at Jane. She still didn’t understand. “And I think you should step away from them.”
Jane turned. They were still on the doorstep, and she pulled Florence behind her without letting go. The knife came between them and Kamala. “We are leaving.”
Kamala reached out one trembling hand. “Can we—”
Jane slashed the knife and she pulled back. Then she turned. “I’ll go—”
She let go of Florence to dart forwards, and pushed the knife into her back, her body weight carrying the momentum through until Kamala dropped, dark blood welling around the wound, a cry of fear punctuating the blow. Kamala didn’t make a sound; it was Florence who reacted, pulling at Jane’s hand now, trying to get past her to reach the Domestic.
Jane turned back with the knife still ready, slick with crimson. “Walk,” she hissed at Florence. It was time to get moving. The car was waiting.
“Don’t,” whimpered Kamala from the ground.
Twisted to look behind, Florence planted their feet until the bloody blade shoved against their back. They walked. Slowly, but they walked. “Kamala,” they called, voice sharp with terror. “Kamala!”
Jane dragged them on. Every time Florence faltered, bare feet digging into gravel, she pushed with the knife. Florence’s robe had lines of Kamala’s blood across its silky blue. They were fighting her at every step, but they were fights they would only lose. “You’re going back, Paris,” Jane told them through gritted teeth. She hated hurting people. She hated having to. It was a failure of her other skills. It was messy. It was hard to forget, later, when the task was done.
Florence didn’t seem to care. “Kamala,” they protested again, tearful and fraught. Any other words had left them. “Kamala, Kamala.”
They walked on. Jane trudged with each step, planting herself to leverage Florence’s resistance. She dragged. Their hand was damp and shaking, but some remnant of their training made them grip back twice as tightly. Even though Florence was scared of her, being alone was worse.
The car was just around the corner. It would be over soon. Someone would find Kamala and fix her. Florence would forget about it all in time. Jane would go back to being nameless and nothing, and put all this from her mind. Mistress might even praise her.
The narrow country lanes were empty as they walked down them, her knife still pressed against Florence’s lower back as they moved together. The silver car soon came into view, almost entirely tucked into a passing place.
Florence didn’t fight any harder. “Kamala…” they wailed softly, more panicked than before. Every passing second made them more distressed. They had watched their chaperone and protector fall. They were helpless now, for all their clever insights had got them. Jane had the knife. Jane was the hunter. She brought them up to the car.
The driver inside was slumped forwards over the wheel.
Florence froze, glazed eyes fixed on the figure. Jane changed her grip on the knife so that she could open the door. As soon as she did, the smell reached them.
The driver was dead.
#whump#whumptober2023#no.22#bbu#stabbed#recapture whump#pet whumpee#disabled whumpee#florence#kamala#the birdhouse#my fic
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I posted 27,099 times in 2022
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My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Some woman on hinge was like ask me about my Taylor Swift conspiracies. So I did and she told me that she thinks tswift is gay and I was like my favorite me I’ve heard is that her and harry styles committed vehicular manslaughter and then she wrote songs about it. She didn’t message me back :/
879 notes - Posted March 10, 2022
#4
Tao Siqi (Chinese, b. 1994). White Tail, 2021
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#3
I wouldn’t say slur but milf is a porn term and absolutely inappropriate to apply to women. Why is everyone so dedicated to normalizing fetishistic porn terminology. I hate it here
1,165 notes - Posted February 18, 2022
#2
If I see one person say “well THIS group of women will always be able to get abortions” I am going to be really really really mean. As mean as I need to be until people stop being fucking idiots with zero understanding of misogyny or the material lives of American women
1,888 notes - Posted June 24, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
This is a good time for a really mean meme I’ve been thinking of
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Flashing gif tw
vehicular manslaughter skkdjsne FAIR BUT I MEANT THIS
OMG OFC I REMEMBER THAT. i'm sorry that my mind went to vehicular manslaughter not feminism guys 😔
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