killers will kill with or without a gun

Tips and Ideas for Writing Post-Apocolypse

Writing post-apocalypse/dystopian future can actually open a large range of possibilities and original ideas but there are some things we should try to keep in mind. The problem with this genre is that is a heavily research-based genre, it requires a lot of information so a lot of things can slip up or be forgotten.

Limits of the Body - This is something that seems to be largely forgotten unless in extreme situations. Yes, humans are tough, but they are also weak. We have that balance of nature within us. People can keep going whilst in a lot of pain, but something like a headache could knock them senseless. I knew someone who got shot in the leg and ran three miles because he thought he had been hit by the brick. The second he realised he had actually been shot and was safe to do so, he collapsed in pain. Quickly establish what your characters can and cannot do.

Children - Children are more robust than so many people give them credit for, they wouldn’t make it to adulthood otherwise. Children are emotionally stronger than they are physically but many children have a lot more endurance for their size than adults because they have to keep up with adults. Two good examples are The Road by Cormac McCarthy and Lord of the Flies by William Golding.

Hygiene - Namely with periods and stuff. It is hard work keeping the body clean, so personal hygiene will be poor but people tend to stop caring at a point when they realise how hard it is to maintain. A lot of people would revert to old fashioned methods of vagina health as well, so people would use reusable cloth or diva cups. The only book I know of that covers this is The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey.

Simple Killers - More people died of the Spanish flu than in the First World War (source). It is surprising how often it is “little things” that kill people off. An emotional death does not have to be all that dramatic, no bloody death or major killer. Something as simple as a small cut that festered will kill someone if not treated correctly. An asthma attack, diabetes, things we see as treatable would make quick work of us without medical aid. Also most deaths are really simple and sudden.

World Limitations - What is this obsession with guns and everything happening in the summer and unlimited cans of food? No, let’s be honest, none of these are realistic. Guns will not last, can goods will be snatched up by the shop loads, most natural disasters will happen in spring or autumn. Remember to do the key thing, make your world real and people are more likely to believe it.

Take a Page - Who are most renowned for their post-apocalyptic stories? British pre-1950s authors. Why? Their worlds are real, the possibilities of what could happen in those worlds are real. Some where and still are scarily accurate, they looked at the current and possible state of things, creating a world too similar to our own. Great examples like 1984 by George Orwell, The Death of Grass by John Christopher, The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham, Soylent Green and the Mad Max Series.

satifying moments in the falsettos cast album
  • his name is MENDEEEEEEL
  • i’ll pay the biiiiill untiiiiiil you’re old
  • oh what a lovely table, such a romantic table!
  • whyyyy is he aaalways heeeere?
  • i’m not a giant man but i’ll love you until- love you until I DIIIIIIE
  • yes i feel guilt, yes i’m annoyed, so was jung, so was freud!
  • god i’ll tryyyyy, tryyyyyyyy, i’ll cry
  • life’s a sham and every move is wrong, we’ve examined every move as we move along
  • clip the coupons, make the dinner and looooove hiiiiiim!
  • god bless our home!
  • YOU DIE ON may 27th at eight!
  • my father cried “you’ll MARRY”
  • it’s the 80s! (yabadabadah) ooh, the 80s!
  • the whole thing’s voodoo, and i know more than you do!
  • it’s been so long since i could tell!
  • for the first time in months, nobody dieeeeeeeeeeeeed!
  • “DO YOU KNOOOOW HOW GREAT MY LIFE IS?” “yes i knooooow great your life is!”
  • you save lives and i save chicken fat, i can’t fucking deal with that!
  • where’s the heat? where’s the fire? used to be your desire to FIGHT, so FIGHT!
  • do you knoooow? all i want is you! anything you do is alright-
  • “go ahead and kill your mother!” “not with guns, but kill you mother
  • everyone hates his parents, now i see why…
  • but not a word about the killer!
  • yes, thats my life!
  • i love friends that hover!
  • let’s pretend that nothing is awful
  • to go out without care, my head high in the air, it’s the last little mountain i’ll climb… i’ll climb!

feel free to add more!


Relevance was such an all-around great episode with so many good scenes, but this one really stuck with me. I knew very little about the show or Shaw as a character when I started watching so I had no idea what to expect. Shaw, despite what she says, is a badass in this episode, and I fully expected her to be shown here as the cold-blooded killer who guns down everyone in the room, makes a quip about it, and then has a beer. Because that’s the type of narrative I’m used to seeing in media. Which…almost happened. But then she let Louis go. She stopped, thought about it, decided Louis wasn’t someone she needed to kill, and let him walk out (and then had her beer). And, for me, that helped frame Shaw as a character. Absolutely someone who could kill without remorse when needed, but not someone who would kill a relatively harmless, unarmed man with his hands in the air. Not because she’d feel bad about it, but because that wasn’t how she chose to do things.

Joker’s Daughter Part 2

“Daddy! You’re home!!” You cy, scrambling down the stairs, “I missed you!”

“Hello, Princess! How’s my favorite girl?”

“I’m the best, daddy! I had so much fun with, Uncle Frost! “

The Joker grinned, “I’m sure you did, Pumpkin. Did Frosty keep you busy while daddy handled business?”

“Yup!” You glance behind him, confused, “Where’s momma?”

“She wanted to spend some time with Poison Ivy tonight.” The Joker grinned, “The girls have a plan for Batsy”

You giggle and clap your hands, “I hope they have fun! But” you clear your throat, “daddy can I have something?”

“You can have whatever you want, princess! You know that!” you can already see the manic glint in your daddy’s eyes, he’s already plotting how to get whatever it is to you.

“I want the Red Hood” You try to sound confident, but don’t know if you managed it.

Daddy stiffens immediately and hold you at arm’s length, “Why would you want him? You can have anyone, Princess! Why would you choose him?”

“He isn’t scared of you! That’s why!”

“Y/N …”

“You make everyone scared of you, daddy! I just want someone who will love me for me! Not for your power!” You can feel tears building up in your eyes.

“Sorry to interrupts, Mr. J but your wife is on the phone”

The Joker growled and pushed you towards your uncle, “Take her up to her room, Frost. I have business tonight”


“No, Princess. You are gonna stay here tonight, I need to take care of a few things”

You nod and quietly turn to follow Uncle Frost. You really wish that you had waited fro momma to come home, but you were just too excited to wait! Momma and daddy’s relationship had gotten better ever since she got pregnant. According to Auntie Ivy it had been really bad in the beginning, that daddy had hurt momma a lot, but it hadn’t been that way for a while.

“Do you think daddy’s mad at me, Uncle Frost?” you whisper.

“I think he was just surprised, Princess. You know he would give you anything, but you asked for a vigilante that is constantly trying to ruin Mr. J’s plans. The Red Hood seems to have a particular disliking for Mr. J too, so your father might have been a little upset”

“I met him today, Uncle Frost. I met the Red Hood, he saved me”

Frost stopped and quickly spun you around, “What do you mean he saved you?”

“When I ran away, there was a guy in the alley who grabbed me” You didn’t really see it as a big deal, but uncle Frost’s eyes widened in horror, “He didn’t touch me! Don’t worry! Red Hood beat him up for me!”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Frost hissed.

“I don’t want you to tell daddy! Please don’t!” You beg, you decide to pull out the puppy-dog eyes. Uncle Frost can’t resist those, so reluctantly he nods, “And then Hoodie and I started talking, and I gave him a kiss! And he said that he wanted to see me again! But I want to see him outside of the Hood. I want daddy to not hurt him!”

Uncle Frost sighed, “I know you really want this, and I know you don’t want him to be hurt. I also know you and Mr. J know exactly who they are under the mask. You have to give him a little time, sweetheart. He has to get used to the thought of you growing up, you know he’ll always see you as his princess.”

You wrap your uncle in a tight hug and nuzzle against him, “I really want him, Uncle Frost”

“I know you do, but you have to be patient”

“I will, promise”

“And you can’t run away anymore! You scared the shit out of me! If something had happened to you …”

“But nothing did! Nothing happened! Red Hood stopped it! It’s like I have a guardian angel watching over me!”

“Yeah, a guardian angel who likes to beat up your father, and who likes to use a gun”

You giggle, “But you like to use a gun, Uncle Frost!”

“I suppose I do, but Mr. J know I’ll die to protect you. Will your Red Hood?”

Once again you manage to slip away from your guards, this time however you head up to the rooftops instead of into an alley.

“Y/N!! Y/N!! Not again!! Where are you?!?”

You can’t help but laugh at your Uncle Frost’s distressed voice, “Silly Uncle Frost, as if I would give up this far into the game!”

“And what are you doing all the way up here, Princess?”

You whirl around, your blue and purple streaked hair twirling around you, “Hoodie!!”

Red Hood jumped down from the taller building, landing silently next to you, “Did you run away again?”

“I had to!” You jut your bottom lip out in a pout, “Daddy’s been trying to keep me in the house. I wanted to see you. I missed you”

Jason chuckled, pulling his helmet off, “You missed me?”

“Of course I did, sugar! Daddy tried to get me to forget about you! He brought home a bunch of guys from his club, but I didn’t want any of them!! I only want you, Jaybird” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jason grinned, “It’s been a week, doll. I thought you forgot about me”

You put one hand on your chest, “I would never forget about you!”

The safety on a gun clicks off from behind you and in an instant Jason had you pushed behind him.

“Step away from my daughter” Your momma snarled

“No momma! Don’t shoot him!!” You try to get around Jason, you know that momma won’t hurt you, but she has no problem hurting anyone in the Batfamily.

Jason just continues to hold you behind him, “I’m not going to hurt her, Harley. She hasn’t done anything wrong”

“Yeah, and the minute she does you’re going to turn against her. You’re going to hurt my princess, and I’m not going to let you do that, I’m not going to let anyone hurt her” Momma ended up screaming at the end. She raised the gun, ready to shoot.

“Please!” you sob, “Please don’t hurt him”

“Your daddy told me about your infatuation, honey. Puddin’ said you wanted to see him for a date, and then Frosty said that you had managed to get away from the guards and from the house. I knew exactly where my girl was heading, so all I had to do was find Red Hood here, and I knew I would find you”

“Momma please, I’ll go with you. I won’t see him anymore, I promise. Just-just don’t hurt him” you beg.

“No” Jason snapped, “I won’t just give up on you like that, Y/N! You’ve proven that you’re different, that you aren’t a killer, or at least that you don’t kill without due cause.”

“You’ll let her go, Hood, or I’ll shoot you”

“I said no” Jason growled

“Jason please, just let me go, I don’t want her to hurt you, you know momma will. She won’t hesitate”

“You have until the count of three to let my Princess go. One” the gun cocked, “two” momma aims right for Jason’s chest, and you tense, “Three” the gun goes off.


I know I haven’t been on here in awhile, but recent events made me feel the need to make this post.

So far, at the time of me writing this, there are 59 people dead. 59.

I grew up in a gun-loving house. I was shooting a goddamn AK47 as a teenager, so before any of you gun loving assholes start spewing your “you just don’t understand!!!” bullshit- trust me, I do understand. I grew up with it. I know.

I’m not gonna sit here and say that ALL guns should be banned, because it’s not even worth my breath. That’s clearly not gonna happen anytime soon. But that man had, what, 30 guns in his hotel room? Semis and automatics? And a fucking endless stream of ammo? There is no reason ANYBODY should have goddamn automatics.

You want a small handgun in your house? Fine, whatever. Only one allowed. Bring it outside your house? Get fucking arrested for all I care. Shotguns for hunters? Fine. Only ones that have to be reloaded after every shot. Handguns for park rangers (in case of wild animals or whatever)? Fine. But you can’t get that job without a full metal assessment, proper training, etc. and the gun should be checked out in the morning, then returned at the end of the shift. You’re immediately fired and reported the second you’re caught tryna head home with it.

We need ammo records and regulations. No one should be able to buy that amount of ammo. We need a way to keep track of it, that way if someone is buying or trying to buy that much ammo, we can put a fucking stop to it.

Are you some gun freak, some big dudebro who gets off on holding your manly phallic shaped people killer? Fine, we’ll still have shooting ranges. But the guns are owned by the range and not to leave the range. They’re to be checked out, and you’re unable to leave the place without checking it back in. You must provide ID and sign a waver (or something like that) that says if you so much as step a toe in an unregulated space with a gun, you’re arrested. Even with all of that, still no semis or automatics.

If you have a gun and it is used to kill anybody, even if you’re not the one who pulled the trigger, YOU get charged with something like accessory to murder. Yes, even if your gun is stolen. Yes, even if your white 15 year old quiet loner son kills (or intends to kill, or attempts to kill) someone with it.

Anybody found with a semi? Arrested and fined up the ass. Show any signs of violent tendencies or something that so much as hints a possibility of being capable of murdering anybody? You’re not allowed to have a gun, and anybody who gives you access to their own gun gets their gun and their permit taken away from them.

Every year, all gun owners regardless of what type of gun they own must report the amount of ammo they used, reregister their gun, retake a course on gun safety/laws, and get another mental assessment. You’re also to pay a fee. Get caught tryna lie about the amount of ammo used (we’d be able to tell since we’d have records of it)? Get your permit taken away for life. Obviously not a count of every single individual bullet, but of how many packs you use. At the end of the year, even if you only use one bullet (like for self defense) the packs you did not use still must be accounted for.</p>

Caught trying to skip your yearly registration? Get your permit taken away for life. Caught with a gun without your permit? (even if you have one, it must be on you at all times you have the gun.) Get it taken away.

Anybody caught trying to buy or sell a gun illegally, a gun with its serial number scratched off, or using/buying/selling unregistered ammo gets arrested, fined, and gets their permit taken away. If, say, a man gets caught with an illegal gun, but his wife has a permit and has never done anything to warrant her license getting taken away, she gets it taken away anyway since the husband would still have access to it.

Basically, it’s about fucking time we have strict gun control. It’s about fucking time we stop sitting back and watching shit like this happen, then scratching our heads and saying “hmm, there’s nothing we can do about it!” The excuse “well if somebody starts shooting people, it’d be safer to have some good guys with guns to stop the shooter!” doesn’t fucking matter. This man was in a hotel room shooting from his window. It took fucking swat teams to stop him. A “good guy” with a gun couldn’t do shit in this situation. But you know what would help? This guy never having goddamn assault rifles at all.

Lastly, I can’t remember the exact words so this is just me paraphrasing, but the quote “whenever there’s a mass shooting by a lone gunman, we always talk about the ‘lone’ and the 'gun’ but never the 'man’” is beyond relevant to this tragedy. Male violence is a pandemic, it’s the deadliest fucking plague on earth and we need to put an end to it. We need to acknowledge this for what it is: domestic terrorism. But of course, no one will call it terrorism because the dude was white. Instead, we’ll just blame mental illness or violent video games…but that’s a whole other post that I’ll get into later, when it’s not 11:30 and I’m half awake.

Is all of this just wishful thinking? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we should just quit fighting.

Rest In Peace to all the victims, and so much love to their families and friends. Maybe this tragedy will finally be the wake up call this country needed, and maybe it’ll encourage more and more people to say “enough is enough” and never let another tragedy like this happen again.

A tweet “sending prayers” won’t do anything, we need to stand up and actually make a fucking change.

Under Pressure - Spencer Reid

Originally posted by prettyrickyreid

this one I jammed to while writing ngl. this blurb is inspired by Under Pressure by David Bowie and Queen (aka two of the most important people in my life) and also this gif gives me butterflies :)

enjoy my little muffins!!

word count: 1,539


Spencer Reid’s gun was held high as he crept along the empty and dark hallway. The only light that he had was from the streetlight outside of the abandoned apartment complex he was in, and it left an leery feeling in his gut. His face remained stony, and he wanted nothing more than to clear the building and look somewhere else for the unsub. But, a feeling in his gut told him that the unsub was here, perhaps even close.  It was a feeling he hated, but it was always worth it in the end.  

He crept through the warehouse, and the silence in his earpiece was equally as frightening.  Everyone was so serious and so quiet when it came to an extremely dangerous unsub like the one they were after now, and it was evident in the team’s actions.  

Spencer crept into an open room, and stayed against the wall as he surveyed the room carefully. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and there was absolutely nothing to looked to be out of place.  It was quiet, still, except for the rain pelting the metal ceiling vigorously.  If he were home in his bed with a book and light music playing, the rain would be a soothing privilege, but in the warehouse, where he could die at any moment, it was unnerving.  

He made his way around the perimeter of the large room and stayed silent, stepping over rubble and easing under the girders leaning against the wall.  Once he made his way around the room, Spencer walked towards the center.  

For a moment, he stopped and pinched his nose in an attempt to keep himself from sneezing in the dusty room.  He felt sick for a second, like he was moments from having an allergy attack, but the feeling shook off quickly and he sniffled in the dark room, trying to make as little noise as possible.  Once he regained his composure, Spencer scanned the room once more before turning around and walking towards the second entrance, letting his gun down for a split second.  

Just as he did so, a figure stepped into the dull light from the hallway, warranting Spencer to bring his gun up in a split second.  All he could see was a silhouette, and he was hesitant to make any action.  What if it were a member of his team?  It was obviously a man from the shape of the silhouette, but it did not appear that there was a thick FBI bullet proof vest on.  

“Drop your weapon,”  Spencer ordered unevenly.  He was worried he was pointing his gun at Morgan, or even Hotch, but it did not seem that the shape of the person matched that.  “Is that you, Brandon Marlboro?”  Spencer asked deeply. 

The figure was silent and instead, moved into the dark room, where Spencer’s eyes were able to adjust and land upon the unsub, Brandon Marlboro.  “Brandon, drop your weapon and we can work this out.”  Spencer said more solidly as the unsub held a gun in his hand, pointed towards the ground.  “Where is Hailey and Jenny?”  He asked, referring to the two latest victims he had kidnapped. 

The unsub tilted his head to the side and smiled one of the most wicked smiled that would brand Spencer’s mind for time to come.  “Now, what would be the fun in dropping my gun?  You would just arrest me, and we wouldn’t talk.”  He said with a deep, menacing chuckle.  

“I am not going to tell you again.”  Spencer warned loudly, hoping someone, anyone would hear him.  “Drop your weapon.” 

He told him once again, but the unsub only smiled and stepped closer once more.  “And if I don’t?  You and I both know that I am much quicker, and much more talented with a gun, my dear Spencer.  Before you could even process it, I would have you dead on the ground,”  the unsub laughed loudly, and it reminded Spencer strangely of the Joker from the Batman movie Penelope forced him to watch ages ago.  

“Where is Hailey and Jenny?”  Spencer asked again, holding his finger on the trigger.  “Tell me and we can work this out.”

“You keep saying that we can work this out, but is it true?  After all, I have killed thirteen women, and we both know that is far passed a life sentence.”  The unsub riducled and then, before Spencer knew what was happening, the unsub began to lift his gun towards Spencer, and the sound of a gunshot pierced his ears.  His eyes closed in an instant, waiting for the pain to set it, but it never came.  When his eyes finally opened, you were there, twenty feet behind the unsub with your gun still pointed at him. 

“(Y/N),”  Spencer whispered and he doubted you could hear him.  The two of you rushed to the unsub an you snatched his gun from his limp hand as Spencer checked for a pulse.  

You looked down with a frown as you spoke into your vest.  “Spencer and I got him.”  You said and crouched down to Spencer’s height on the ground, touching his shoulder.  “Are you okay?”  You murmured and looked at the unsteady look on his face.  

Spencer nodded numbly and stood as the team and local policed rushed in.  He looked at you, surprised and grateful that you were there, and so awestruck that you saved him without blinking an eye.  He knew you hated killing people, whether they be serial killers or not, and you hated using you gun just the same, but you seemed so unaffected by the fact that you had just killed the sick, twisted unsub on the floor right before you.  Instead, you turned and left out of the door you came from.  


You sat on the plan in one of the double seats that faced the open couch with your legs folded under you and your earbuds in your ears.  The team knew you didn’t care for flying much, so they knew better than to bother you as you gripped the arms of the chair when the plane took off.  You and Spencer were very close, and he sat next to you on every flight, for moral support, and because he enjoyed looking at you when you slept so soundly, even if at some pointed you were actually passed out.  

Ever since you had joined the team around the same time as colleague David Rossi,you were quieter than the rest and had taken a particular interest and fondness in Spencer.  He was much like you, and you were able to stay up with him in the late hours of the morning, talking about books you have read and discussion various classes you were taking in your down time.  The two of you were rarely apart, given that your apartments were two doors down from one another.  Most nights you spent together in one of your apartments, falling asleep on the couch in the living room or out of the balcony in the cool night air.  

The two of you were inseparable.  You knew all there was about Spencer, and Spencer knew all there was about you.  You had even traveled to Las Vegas to meet his mother, which was hard on him, but made him feel so much better.  The team was just waiting for the moment the two of you finally confessed your love for one another, no matter how long it took.  It was a skinny love that neither of you would admit.  

Spencer, however, felt fearless as he leaned towards you and removed one earbud from your ear, interrupting your music.  You glanced at him with a confused look on your face as you removed the other.  

“I never got to thank you.”  Spencer told you and frowned lightly.  “For not letting the unsub kill me.”  He finished and looked at his hands.  

You nodded lightly.  “No need to thank me.  You would have done the same if I were in your position.”  You explained and licked your lips as your fingernails dug into the tan leather of the seat.  You never truly got used to flying, no matter how many cases you went on.  

Spencer shook his head.  “No, I know what you think of using your weapon, and I know it keeps you up at night, and I wanted to thank you. Without you, I would be dead because I was unable to react as quick as you did.  It was truly amazing how quick you were able to react.  You were under pressure and still managed to act so appropriately,” he rambled until you finally leaned over and took his face into your hands, kissing him on the lips for a long, sweet moment.   

When you pulled away, both you and Spencer’s face were burning red.  Hotch stood at the head of the plan, watching you two, and he shook his head lightly.  “Just don’t let it interfere with work.”  He said and walked right by your seats, making a smile spread on both of your faces.  

“You were rambling.”  You shrugged.  “And that is thank you enough.”  You told him with a blush on your face.


Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Reaper/Reader

As infamous as he is, even the Reaper is still just a man.

AO3 / Other Fanworks

You have missed the bus. Of course. It is not often you are called upon to visit the offices where you technically work; as their best programmer you’ve been given permission to work from home. The next bus doesn’t get here for another hour - God only knows why - which is how long it will take you to walk, if you hurry.

Keep reading

Nygmobblepot AUs I want

Maybe one day I’ll get around to doing something with these but until then I want this list out there because if someone does any of these I’ll be forever indebted
also some of these were inspired by other people’s AUs but I can’t remember who now so if you want recognition just ask

Mayor Assistant AUs

  • Ed leaves little notes and things that hint out to Oswald that he loves him
  • Ed tries to get Oswald a date for a gala and tries to figure out who Oswald is into and surprise its him
  • Ed leads Oswald around by the hand so as to not lose him in crowds of reporters but there’s no crowd now
  • Oswald needs to learn to dance and Ed takes him and they are the only two without partners

    Teen AUs
  • Os fights a lot and Ed heals him, Ed trips on nothing a lot and Os heals him
  • Ed is bullied, Oswald is short but likes to punch bullies
  • Ed has very few friends and Os is new and is he flirting or trying to make friends? Is this buddies watching a movie or is it a date? He doesn’t know
  • Ed and Os having water ballon/nerf gun/something battles
  • Budding killers Os and Ed argue over who gets to kill their bully
  • Both their parents starting dating again but their dates are assholes so Ed and Os bond over their hatred for them
  • Ed rides the bus and wow is it raining so Os shares his umbrella
  • Os is stealing his phone back after it’s confiscated in class and Ed is stealing lesson plans

    College AUs
  • Ed’s obsessive ex Isabella won’t leave him alone so his dorm mate Os takes it upon him self to fake date Ed
  • Ed really needs this book and Os is overdue so he track him down to yell at him and oh no he’s cute

  • Os made to much food and invites Ed over to help him eat it all and wow what a romantic atmosphere

  • Os asks Ed for books suggestions and Ed’s face is so cute when he talks of his favorites
  • Ed and Os fake dating to get unlimited food deals at restaurants because they’re broke

  • Our parents are homophobes so let’s fake date and fuck with them wait this is nice let’s really date

    Criminals AUs
  • Os faked his death with Ed’s help and now he’s back and they have fun fake fighting
  • Ed needs to bury a body and Os is out in the woods hiding one and his shovel broke
  • Ed helps Os with his plans to return as King after the docks
  • Ed takes care of sick Os while Os rants about how evil he is and doesn’t need to be taken care of
  • Ed takes Os hostage not knowing the cops are after Os too so now they are on the run together
  • Os jumps in Ed’s car and makes him his getaway driver
  • They destroy the city together and wow do they make great partners
  • Ed makes up a challenge for Os and Os is bad at them so by the time he solves it Ed’s asleep with the food cold and candles burned out and a love confession in his hand
  • Os checking Ed out as Ed weaves through a laser grid

    Soulmates AUs
  • Ed can see colors and would have to give them up to be with his soulmate and now the colors are fading and who are they
  • Os’s soulmate tattoo is penguin facts and he will fight his soulmate for this
  • Ed can only see in the color of his soulmates eyes and it changes every few days because Os has an extensive contacts collection and wants Ed to have colors so Ed repays him by matching colors

    Various AUs
  • Ed is a sphinx and Os is a vampire
  • Cuddling while stuck in a storm
  • Ed meeting Os because his nose was broke accidentally by Os’s umbrella
  • Body swap with clumsiness
  • Ed not touching anything of Os’s after the docks and Babs breaks something and he looses it

sorrtt  asked:

What are your thoughts about Aileen Wuornos, her crimes and the case? Did she deserve death penalty?

Random thoughts, just throwing them out there:

- I find Aileen’s case to be very unusual because she is the only female serial killer who consistently used a gun in her crimes. From a psychological perspective this is odd, because women typically never use guns in serial murder; they prefer methods such as smothering or poison. Aileen Wuornos is currently the only female serial killer I know of who committed murder in a typically ‘masculine’ way.

- Aileen Wuornos was sexually victimised from a very young age, which I believe is the *true* motive in her crimes. Robbery was an incentive, but she could easily have robbed her clients without killing them; I personally think she killed her clients because they represented all the abusive male figures in her life.

- I really enjoyed the movie made about her serial crime spree, ‘Monster’. Charlize Theron portrays Aileen wonderfully, and most of her script is taken verbatim from Aileen’s confession to the cops.

- Did she deserve the death penalty? Hm, if murder is a capital crime, then she certainly did deserve it, as she killed at least eight people.

I personally don’t believe in the DP myself. If I was the judge or on the jury in her case, I would not have recommended capital punishment in light of her mental instability and mitigating factors, such as her testimony that one of her murdered clients brutally raped her. While I dont believe her claim of self defense in EVERY case, I can indeed understand how being sexually assaulted can give one a hatred of the opposite sex. I consider Aileen a victim of her own life and circumstances as much as a killer, which is why I dont think she deserved the death penalty. Others would disagree, but I believe she was suffering from a type of PTSD that made her partially irresponsible for her actions.

Thanks for the questions!

anonymous asked:

wonwoo + assassin!au

“What have they done?” Wonwoo asked his boss, who was intently looking at him, trying to figure out his reaction but Wonwoo kept expressionless.

The man crossed his legs and leaned back, fiddling with his hands. “The client didn’t give us too much information but apparently she had betrayed him and now he wants revenge.”

“By revenge, he means death.”

The man nodded and got up, clearly not as calm as Wonwoo was. He was still fiddling with his hands constantly, bullets of sweat running down his face, dark bags under his eyes.

“The reason why I offer this job to you is because you can take her out quietly.”

Wonwoo was left unsure about this gig since he saw no real motive to kill you. To kill you only because a probable ex boyfriend was left heartbroken was something he saw no sense in and it was against his values. Heartbreak was not a crime. And Wonwoo always took care of the bad guys, the ones who did actual bad things.

He was about to object against this mission but he was left gawking when the man continued, telling the price of the gig. He sat back and ran his hands through his hair, trying to realise the number he had just heard. 100 million dollars.

A 100 million dollars to kill one woman? Insane, he thought. But the money got him to agree - he wanted to help his parents. Give them a comfortable life.

Now, he stood behind your door, breaking in easily. He counted that it was probably his 8th time breaking into someone’s apartment this month.

He usually assassinated people on the streets but trespassing had become a lot more frequent since most of his targets were homebodies or the clients wanted to get the job done asap. This case was one of the latter.

He quietly sneaks around your apartment, no lights on - you could hear a pin drop. He didn’t wander around too long as he found you in your bed, asleep. He took a deep breath and covered your mouth. You woke up immediately, eyes wide open and in shock.

“Shut up,” Wonwoo spat, raising the gun against your head. “Don’t scream or I’ll shoot,” he continued and signalled you to get up from your bed. And you did as asked, your whole body shaking. What a wake up call.

“You wouldn’t kill me,” you whispered, staring at Wonwoo’s tall figure.

“I’m a dangerous man,” Wonwoo said with a low voice, his gaze not leaving yours and his hands pointing the gun on your temple, steady. Don’t think, just do it, he thought to himself, applying light pressure on the trigger.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you said, looking him dead in the eye. If he really was out here to kill you - he would’ve done it seconds ago.

Wonwoo stood there, almost frozen as he repeated those words you said in his head. Never had he heard anyone say that they weren’t scared of him - he was a killer, almost a monster himself.

He did not lower his gun as he backed away slowly. When he came to the doorway to your bedroom, he smiled faintly. You nodded at him, clearly getting his message that he was not going to hurt you. And then, he was quickly gone, the doors shutting behind him.

He’d come up with a plan to fake your death because he was not going to kill you. He would just need your collaboration on this but next time, he would come knocking on your door, perhaps just without a gun.

Admin Memesol

No lives matter, except the (white) ones with guns

The right to kill each other is not freedom.

The right to kill each other is, however, a privilege and a right, one held almost exclusively by white men here for hundreds of years. This country, or at least nearly half of it, is determined to never give that up.

As shown clearly in the NRA’s own ads, our obsession with guns stems from our obsession with keeping authority and control in the hands of the same people, and a fear that this may someday change. It keeps the power over lives in the hand of lone individuals, as long as those same individuals also keep control of the law and the courts.

White people have worked very hard since the Civil War to keep a legal way for us (or our agents) to choose to kill others or to force their submission. Reconstruction ended with a violent terror-fueled retaking of southern statehouses, still honored by statue and flag today, the legacy of which wanes on occasion but always comes back hard.

Today, the root of our gun problem is still the racist desire to maintain the long-held white privilege of absolute power over others’ life & death. Whether by changing definitions of terrorism or mental illness, by stand your ground laws, by only training police to be executioners and never to disarm, or by the deliberate creation of desperation and poverty, we have engineered laws and their interpretations to ensure that this remains consistent.

The Supreme Court ruling that the 2nd Amendment had nothing to do with militias was a novel invention, but it was necessary after our country’s Civil Rights movement and a sudden potential shift in power.  Losing their access to our most efficient murder weapons was, at that time, a terrifying proposition. It still is. A whole slew of laws passed by states during Obama’s presidency enabled killers to avoid jail as long as their victims died, if only they say they feared for their life.

When Philando Castile informed police he had a concealed weapons permit, he was shot and killed, and the NRA was notably silent about his concealed-carry rights. When innocent children were murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary, the far-right claimed it was either a hoax or irrelevant. When Dylan Roof murdered black churchgoers in cold blood, the police took the nice kid for a burger on the way to the police station. 

We do not take white killers seriously as a nation. When we do, we fight to ensure they keep the ability to kill again, or to kill even more. We do this out of a paranoia that white people will lose power and become the oppressed.

The NRA insists upon our need for police officers to “do their job” and execute civilians without trial, yet they still maintain we need our personal guns to defend against tyrants. That seems contradictory on its face, until we recognize that “tyranny” in this case simply means what Dana Loesch says in their ad: it means “them,” taking control.

Nevada law says that terrorism includes “any act that involves the use or attempted use of sabotage, coercion or violence which is intended to cause great bodily harm or death to the general population.” However, local police immediately stated they didn’t consider the Las Vegas shooting terrorism, even though it matches that description, because the concept is so thoroughly ingrained in our institutions and even in our media: white men already hold power, and killing by or for white power is not terrorism because it cannot change the political power structure. As a result, if it is not acceptable, it is at least tolerated and expected.

When justifying murders of black Americans, we hear about “black-on-black” crime, the familiar racist cry that because one person may have killed another, somewhere, the life of anyone of their race ceases to have value, and their lives cannot matter. That argument somehow never applies to white shooters who kill dozens, because, well, that’s the price of maintaining our white privilege. Some people will have to die for it, and we as a society have accepted that innocent people must pay that cost.

We white people need our guns, our executions by cop, our castle doctrines, and our forced labor. We have had it for hundreds of years, and we are terrified as a group that we may have to give it up. We will malign the dead and their families, we will argue that a whole group of beautiful little children never even died, we will even boo our athletes and avoid professional football games to maintain it. We will dismiss the lives of concert-goers as the “price of freedom,” because to paranoid Americans with internalized racism they actually are. Without our complicated structure of defenses and interpretations, white male Americans could one day lose the easy ability to kill without consequence.

And that would be entirely unprecedented.

The Worst Gun Control Arguments

I’m pro-gun, but mostly for selfish reasons. Some people (such as celebrities) are probably safer with defensive weapons nearby. But I acknowledge the reality that guns make people less safe in other situations. No two situations are alike. That’s partly why the issue can never be fully resolved. Both sides pretend they are arguing on principle, but neither side is. Both sides are arguing from their personal risk profiles, and those are simply different. Our risk profiles will never be the same across the entire population, so we will never agree on gun control.

That said, I want to call out the worst arguments I have seen on the issue of banning bump stocks. If you are new to the conversation, a bump stock is a $99 add-on to an AR rifle that turns it into an automatic-like weapon for greater kill power. The Vegas gunman used bump stocks. They are legal, whereas a fully automatic rifle is not.

Keep reading

Standing Ovation Ch 3, Game Suspension Pt 4

Refer to: Cast

VIP Room

“Now then, the meal is just about done, so how about we return to continuing the negotiations?”

The game on the ground is coming to its sixth inning already.

The Serpent’s progress is alternating back and forth, it being a close game with the opposing team, demodulating a lot of the voltage of the audience.

“Really now, were we negotiating? That’s a first for me.”

Izaya replied back with a smile towards Hiura holding a knife and fork.

“Then let’s start from here on out. Izaya Orihara-kun. Who is backing you?”

“There isn’t anyone….is what I want to say, but since I’m just an ordinary informant, if I have to say someone then the one hiring me would be the human backing me… what that will mean.”

“Is that so. If that’s the case, this will be quick.”

Hiura roughly causes the sofa to creak and told the young man sitting in the wheelchair while giving a fake smile.

“You see, I’m saying I’ll mediate for you.”

“A mediator, you say?”

“Yes. I don’t know if you realize it, but you are currently standing on thin ice. On top of that, it’s a layer of ice above boiling magma. It wouldn’t be strange when it melts.”

“Now for that I’m at a loss whether I should be freezing or sweating.”

“Hand me all the information you have on the current case. I won’t do anything bad to you, and I could persuade Takioka so you all can gain profits.”

Hearing Hiura’s words fairly stated, Izaya looks up at the sprinklers above them and answered.

“I see, I see. That is truly an appreciated proposal. However…”

“Is there something you disapprove of?”

“For you to be able to decide the entirety of my treatment and business from here on out, vice governor Hiura, you already are seizing the initiative for that matter, are you not?”

Keep reading

Possible Betrayal (Himchan mafia/gang AU pt.3)

Word count: 7.5 k+

Genre/warnings: Mafia/gang AU (Might contain a swear word or two. Contains violence, but nothing too excessive or vivid. Tbh this is the most romantic mafia AU you’ll ever read.)

Summary: You didn’t want to let him go back to his positions, because you were more than certain he would get hurt again, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. But he had to, and there was nothing you could do about it. It took only a few days, or maybe a week at most into taking back over the leadership position for Himchan to come home more serious and wary than usual, telling you about his suspects of a betrayal that might happen sometime soon, and asking you not only for advice but for help. Something big was on the horizon, and Himchan seemed to develop a new fear and concern in the process of awaiting it - the fear of not knowing for sure if he’d be able to protect you anymore, and it drove him to the edge.

(IMPORTANT A/N) I guess this is good news for everyone who loves this series - there’s going to be a part 4, as this one is a cliffhanger and will have to be continued. I figured it would be better to write two separate parts instead of one that would be at least 10 k+ long, so here you have it. Also, you can clearly see how much of an influence Skydive has been all through the series, but I think it’s the most visible in this part.


The long grass silently waved in the wind, making the whole field look like it was being gently stroked by a big, invisible hand of some higher force no one could see. You were looking up into the skies, and flinching as dragonflies flew by and scared you by accident, causing you to laugh. 

The skies were bright, and even though they were coated with clouds all throughout, you did not mind. After all, the clouds only stopped the sun from shining right into your eyes and making you stare down at the ground instead of the distance ahead of you, so you were glad they hung high over your head, protecting you and your vision from anything that might harm it.

Protecting you..

That phrase made you turn around to face Himchan, who had made himself comfortable a few meters away from you on a picnic blanket that he was smart enough to grab from home. He was sitting, his posture a little bad and his legs bent so he could tap his feet on the long grass as he stared up at the skies as well, the look in his eyes indicating he was at peace with everything around him at this moment in time.

You hoped he wouldn’t notice your gaze, but even if he’d notice, would it matter? This place he had brought you to was complimenting him so much, bringing out the fact he could be a model instead of what he actually was any day of the week if he wanted to. Or maybe was he the thing that made the giant field of grass and wildflowers look so eye catching and heart-warming, but more than anything else - welcoming? 

You were sure the unusual glow of his pale skin came from the fact that he’s been spending weeks upon weeks home now, still recovering from his injuries. He was quite weak at first, doing nothing but sleeping as that was the only thing capable of mending the pain, but now he’s been slowly getting back on his feet. He didn’t want to take too long before returning to his positions, but at the same time wanted to make sure that he fully recovered before taking upon leading again, as there’s nothing worse than a group lead by a weak and simply incapable person, or so he thought. 

His frame seemed so skinny under the big, light gray shirt and the black sweatpants he wore, and you wondered if that could be caused by his weakness from the injury as well. Taking two bullets to the chest wasn’t something everyone could handle, and the more you looked at him, the more you wondered if it was his body, his mind and consciousness or something else that made him come out of the situation alive. 

His arms were covered in scars, as they seemed to heal slowly or not heal at all on his sensitive skin. In fact, not only his arms were scarred. His whole body looked that way, and every time you ran your fingers over it you could clearly feel them. On his shoulder blades and his arms. On his thighs and his sides. By far the most eye-catching one was at his left temple, as it stood out in contrast to his picture perfect face, slightly ruining the aesthetic and reminding you of what he was doing for a living, but you didn’t mind. It was his scar, after all, and you swore to love everything about him, flaws included. 

He lowered his head, his eyes meeting yours instantly. The small smile he wore on his face and the barely noticeable “eye dimple”, as you called it, appearing as he smiled brighter after spotting you looking at him like that, it all warmed your heart. To see him relaxed and happy, out in the countryside because you insisted he needed a lot of fresh air that he couldn’t get in the apartment, while he only chuckled in reply, saying “maybe you shouldn’t have picked up the medical studies… But then again, if you wouldn’t have, I wouldn’t be sitting here and getting taken care of. It’s a new but nice feeling for me, you know?”

His body called to be wrapped up and caressed, taken care of and loved by no other than you, so you slowly took a few steps forwards, never breaking eye contact. Soon you were in front of him, getting into position on the blanket and wrapping an arm around him as he chuckled and leaned back together with you, adjusting himself into a comfortable position as your bodies intertwined, tangled together by your arms. 

“It’s weird but I like it,” he told you, looking up into the clouds while you nuzzled your face into his chest, being careful not to make his recent injuries and wounds hurt by your actions, “Lying around in fields and cloud gazing is so cliché though. I swear, I’m slowly getting soft.” 

You chuckled, and he admired how the sound of your laughter rang through his chest, getting stuck somewhere deep inside his heart and locking itself in there forever, refusing to leave. 

“I like soft Himchan,” you said, drawing patterns on his side with your hand, “He’s such cuddle material, I can’t keep my hands off of him.”

“In that case I’m all yours for the day, because tomorrow I’ll be leaving again to go and do what I’ve been missing out on for too long already,” he said, and silence hung over your heads together with the clouds for a solid minute. 

“How selfish is it that I don’t want to let you go?”

“I don’t think that’s all that selfish, but then again, who am I to judge? You know my “everything goes my way and I get what I want” attitude, so I guess I’m selfish myself,” he said, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. He was sure you simply wanted to spend more time with him, and not be alone in an apartment for the whole day up until he showed up late in the evening and gave you some attention. What other concerns could you possibly have?

“I don’t want you to go because you’ll end up getting hurt again,” he heard you say, and felt his heart stop for a moment.

“What makes you think that will happen? Just because I’m getting soft doesn’t mean I still don’t know how to use a gun,” he chuckled a little, but couldn’t help but give in to the slight feeling of unease that was slowly building up inside his gut. 

“You’re a time bomb,” you told him quietly, trying to gather your thoughts, “And with every passing day you’re getting closer to disaster. People in your line of work never end well, and even though you’re quite different in your intentions that doesn’t differ your chances of ending up like the many people you’ve had business with sooner or later…”

“A time bomb…”
he repeated, letting that sink in.

“Channie, I didn’t want to upset or offend you with that comparison, I just-”

“No, you might even be right,”
he said, closing his eyes again, “But there’s nothing I can do about it. I wasn’t born to be gifted with at least a little bit of mercy shown to me from this big world, and even after years and years of trying to get some I simply haven’t been able to. I didn’t start this because I wanted to, I did it because I had no other choice left. But now, I’ve kind of learned to even enjoy it…”

You listened to him speak, trying not to feel uncomfortable because of his words. The blood and the lives of probably hundreds of people were on his hands. It didn’t matter none of those people were worth sparing the lethal outcome they were destined to meet with, it didn’t matter in the least. Even if he got rid of the people who were wrongdoers and criminals, did that make all of those fights and missions enjoyable and thrilling, or was it the fact he could take away something as significant as a life rather than the fact he made the world an a little safer place for him and his loved ones? How comes he could kill without any emotion or anything but adrenaline pumping through his veins? And how comes he liked it? 

He was such a mystery, nowhere near a cold-blooded killer, despite being someone who’d killed countless times. He scared you sometimes, not because you thought he’d ever put a hand on you, but because you really couldn’t picture him taking someone else’s life up until you saw it. How he suddenly changed when he held the gun, and how his eyes shone in the darkness. That wasn’t Himchan out there anymore, or maybe you were wrong all along and that was the real Himchan, this one, who was lying next to you in a field and staring up to the sky, being the fake one?

“Don’t break your heart over it, babe,”
he snapped you out of your trance, making you jump a little, “I promise I will keep my eyes open and my back covered at all costs. After all, if I don’t show up alive one evening, you have the full right to come and kill me,” he chuckled, earning a playful face slap from you as your hand traveled from his side to his face in a second. 

“Stop quoting me on that, I was stressed and just said the first thing that came to my mind, okay?!”

“Okay, okay, I just found it amusing, babe,” he said, adding “Amusing you went from not sparing a single thought on me to crying over my gunshot wounds in such a short amount of time..”

If it wouldn’t have been so peaceful and beautiful back then, you would’ve hit him, but since you didn’t feel like remembering the recent past and simply wanted to enjoy your last day you fully spent together before he had to return to B.A.P, you let it slide, ignoring his last sentence and simply holding tightly onto him while you still could. 

He stretched out his hand, and right as you were about to ask why he did it, a dragonfly landed on his fingers, making you flinch in fear for a little moment before you understood it was just a harmless insect that was minding it’s own business. 

“You know what dragonflies represent?” he asked, getting a questioning hum from you.

“Freedom. Freedom and new beginnings,”
he moved his fingers, making the dragonfly fly away, “And I wonder why here are so many dragonflies here at all, as there’s no water nearby, and they usually live by water…” 

“… You can laugh, but I actually believe in sayings and signs such as these. I don’t know what this “new beginning” might be, because I’m returning to my old ways by tomorrow and not searching for new ones, but.. I’m always ready for surprises and unusual turns ever since I met you,” he said, moving a little underneath you, “You were by far the most unusual thing that’s ever happened to me, and the thing I’m by far the most thankful for…” 

His hand traveled across your body, landing softly underneath your chin and tilting your head upwards to face him, his hand as cold as ever and his lips as soft as always when they met yours without hesitation. He moved slowly, but in a loving and grateful fashion, just like the many times when he wanted to show you how thankful he was he’d found you and how thankful he was that you’d given him a real chance despite the circumstances. You knew how he felt, as he was never afraid to show it, but you doubted he understood how much of an impact he’d left on you, digging another hole inside of your heart just to fill it, and all of the other ones, up with his love later on ever since he met you. He filled up every single missing part of you, and brought sense in every place it wasn’t present. He was your lifeline even thought you’d viewed him as a destroyer for the longest time, and, as you lied in his grip, you understood you couldn’t picture life without him anymore, same as he couldn’t picture his without you.
There wasn’t need for any more words, not by him and not by you, so instead you laid still in his tight grip, with your head somewhere close to his heart, and your own heart praying for his to be still beating for as long as possible, even after countless conflicts and fights. 

He came back home to spot you sitting at the piano, trying to read the sheet music he’d given you. With a little help by Yongguk, who was probably the only person who wouldn’t judge him about it, Himchan had bought and set up a piano in the living room, just like he promised he would. It was a fine instrument, quite old of age but in mint condition, with a beautiful, thick coating of black lacquer all over it and pearl white keys. It was the only thing in this room that could at least somehow compete with your beauty, but even then Himchan was convinced it would only be second placed.

He stood there for a bit, trying to mend his already racing heart when he saw your fingers slowly and gracefully travelling all across the keys, hitting both - right and wrong ones in the process. Memories of him sitting at the piano long ago came to mind, and for just a second he thought he saw a picture perfect vision of little Himchan sitting at the piano, his tiny fingers sliding from key to key, his left hand not even being able to properly play a bigger chord because he wasn’t able to reach all of the needed notes. He smiled at that memory, just to let it shatter in front of his eyes and be replaced with the heartbreaking view of the same Himchan, trying to play as good as he could with bandaged fingers and tear stained cheeks. 

He flinched a little, remembering. How could he ever forget that practice used to be like hell when his teacher came along, because she liked hitting his hands with a ruler whenever he missed or played a wrong note? He must’ve forgotten, how painful it was to bend his bruised fingers afterwards, and how hard it was to play anything at all, but he had to, in order not to get hit again. There was still a mark or two on his fingers, indicating all of that had in fact happened and wasn’t only a bad dream, and that was the first and only time a scar of his bothered him that much. He was cursed with a skin that made scars stand out and heal slowly, or not heal up properly at all, so he couldn’t fully escape his past, no matter how hard he tried, because it was always there - right in front of his eyes.

He snapped back to reality, just to notice how his stare never stopped piercing through your back. You looked so beautiful, trying your hardest and practicing a lot not only because that would make him happy, but because you actually liked doing it. He looked at your hands, wanting to cover them with his, at this point non-bandaged and non-bleeding ones, and wanting to protect you. You would never have to experience the same thing he had to go through. He would make sure your hands wouldn’t be hit by a ruler and you wouldn’t have to sit for hours upon hours at the instrument, trying to learn songs you could care less about just so you wouldn’t be hit again and left with tears in your eyes and a knot in your chest. You didn’t deserve what he had to go through, and all he wanted to do was to sit beside you and teach you the proper way, so that at some point your and his hands could be on the same instrument at the same time, playing gracefully and tying together two hearts with emotions pouring out of them as well as two pasts - both quite tragic, but to different extents. 

“Stop spying on me,” you said as you turned around to face him, putting your hands in your lap.

“Since when can you tell I’m present in the room if you can’t see me?” he asked, feeling a smirk forming on his face.

“Who said I didn’t see you?” he saw you getting up and walking towards him, “Your shadow gave you away. Plus, I can see what’s happening behind me more than well on the instrument because of the black lacquer. It reflects like a mirror.” 

“So observant, aren’t you, babe? I’m impressed,”
He let his arms wrap around you as he softly kissed you on the lips, not letting you speak even for a second.

“I guess you just learned to be wary in an environment like this, right?” he said in between kisses, not bothering to fully pull away in order to speak, “But that’s always good. You know that if I’ll be the one standing behind your back, I’ll simply wrap my arms around you and protect you, but if it’s someone else, they might stab you with a knife in the place where it hurts the most, so be prepared.” 

Himchan could be the most romantic person you’d ever met, or he could be someone to kill the mood with one sentence. Even though he managed to do the latter with his comment that evening, that wasn’t the reason he acted quite silent and reserved all night long, and his sudden change in mood and the fact that you didn’t know the cause of it bother you. Dinner passed in a quiet atmosphere, and, after you’d spared him the washing up, you took two huge, pretty wine glasses, filling them with the proper liquid and walking out the dining room just to find Himchan in the living room, sitting in the armchair with nothing there to entertain him.

“Say, there must be a reason you’re sitting here alone and staring at a wall like this,” you said, gently sitting down on one of the armrests and handing him the glass. His face lit up for a second when he saw the object that was being handed to him, and he was quick to take it into his hand, bringing it up to his lips in a moment and savoring the sweet taste of wine when it slid down his throat, making his Adam’s apple rise up and down with every little sip he took.

“Almost as sweet as you, babe,” he stated, tracing his upper lip with his tongue in order to remove a drop of wine that was still there, “But I guess that’s not what you’d like to hear now, even though in the past time you seem to like my compliments. I know you well by now, and if you’re curious about something, you won’t rest until you’ll find out the desired information, right?

“Exactly,” you felt his arm slowly move and wrap around your hip, firmly holding you in place and instantly making you feel comfortable.

“Say, how would you feel if, after a relatively long period of being absent, you came back and.. Suspected one of your best friends of betrayal?”

The sentence left you paralyzed, as it triggered a load of unnecessary memories and made you feel sick. He must’ve noticed your initial reaction, as he squeezed your hip a little with his hand, letting you know it was just theoretical. 

“I know more than well, believe me. I don’t think you’ve been betrayed by your fiancee and been in a position when the person you thought loved you the most pointed a gun at you, trying to sell you off to literally anybody in order to save his own life-”

“Hey, what do you mean by “literally anybody”?! I know it’s been a while since then already, and maybe your memory is blurry, but I still want you to see me as the knight in the shining armor who saved you in your darkest hour, understood?“

His words may have come out like an order, but there was a light smile on his face, despite how heavy the actual topic you were talking about seemed, and you wondered how he could be so calm and reserved about it.

“Okay, knight in shining armor, what makes you suspect anybody at all? And, more than that, who is it that you suspect?” you questioned, trying to get back to the main topic.

He sighed quietly, and right as you were about to apologize for asking, he spoke up.

“Jokes aside. This is an actual issue that I will have to look deeper into, and every other sane person in my line of work would scream at me to keep my mouth shut and deal with it on my own, but since I’m a lovesick idiot and quite whiny at heart, let me tell you everything in detail…”

He spoke, and told you everything he knew.

It was another mission they’d gone on, and another success, as always. Well, almost success. There was one person who had to be left alive and brought along to get some much needed information from him, but Jongup had managed to put a bullet in his head, disobeying instructions of the team leader and putting everyone in a though position.

“I knew you were dumb, but I didn’t quite know to what extent. I told you to spare him, how the hell are we supposed to know the location of those files now?” Himchan snapped, inspecting the poor man as he took his last few breaths.

“I don’t know, boss. It’s just a gunshot wound, fix it up. You managed to survive two, so why wouldn’t he be able to survive one?” the smirk that was plastered all over Jongup’s face indicated he wasn’t sorry at all, and didn’t feel any guilt creeping up his spine. Silence hung over the room, and the rest of B.A.P stayed silent and frozen in spot as they watched Himchan rise to his feet and come face-to-face with Jongup.

“How about I put a bullet in your head, and we’ll see about your chances of survival, you smartass?” he said coldly, piercing right into Jongup with his sharp, angry gaze. In the blink of an eye, something flashed on Himchan’s right side, and, even though he’d already managed to get a hold of his gun, there was a blade pointed right at the artery in his neck, preventing him from moving or doing anything else in order to keep the object as far away from his thin skin as possible.

“Are you quick enough to do it though?” it took only seconds for Jongup to get his hand on one of his pocket knives, and Himchan cursed at himself for not thinking of the possibility of this happening. 

“You always talk loudly, Himchan, but when it comes to doing something you never seem to actually have enough guts to take action. For, let’s say, I could get rid of you here, on the spot, and if I actually told you I’d do it, there would be no hesitation, just like with that guy.”

“It’s not called “not having guts to take action”, it’s called “thinking ahead of the nearest future and the result of my actions”,” Himchan said, knowing there was nothing he could do but hold his grounds now, "You can put your blade on me, but that won’t bring you any good, and you’d have guts, just as always, but wouldn’t have any perception of what would follow. If you turned your back on one of us, the others would have no guarantee of you not doing the same to them, and you’d join me underground in just minutes. That, friend, is what I was talking about. Not thinking about what might follow will bring you to the ground at some point, if you continue on acting upon gut instinct and emotion all the time, relying on nothing but your plain ability that is on a high level, but not the highest one possible. Got it, or should I repeat myself, a little slower this time?”

There was something that shifted in Jongup’s expression, immediately indicating Himchan had won.

“Wise words, Mr.Kim,” he said, lowering the blade,“Talking smart again, just like a true leader. But you’re right, I think, so I shouldn’t really exposed myself that much, should I? It thinking ahead of the situation is what you want me to do, I’ll gladly try it out..”

Maniacal laughter followed, and Jongup stepped away, placing another bullet in the man’s head as he walked past him.

“He was dead already, by the way, don’t sweat about it, and don’t spare me the fun of training my aim a little,” he went out of this bloody crime scene, heading back to the vehicle the gang arrived in. Himchan watched him leave, feeling his blood boiling and the veins at his temples slightly pulsing under his skin. 

It was more than obvious this wasn’t a simple clash of opinions, and what would follow, only God knew.

“So.. You want to tell me that single phrase of his made you think of a possible betrayal?”
you asked curiously, trying to get a grip on your thoughts. Jongup had a fiery temper, and an unusual way of wording things, so maybe that was the cause of his actions? But you were certain Himchan knew better than you did, so you patiently waited for his answer.

"To be honest, I wouldn’t sweat it if it was just a phrase. But that one sentence got me thinking, and I’ve been watching him closely for the rest of the day, realizing some things meanwhile..” Himchan trailed of, trying to collect his thoughts. At this point you could clearly see that this was a hard topic for him to talk or even think about, and you already thought of how he’d clinge onto you once you got into bet tonight, trying to get away from his thoughts by using your addicting presence and his favorite activity - sleeping.

“You know, that was not the first time. I heard from Yongguk he tried to pull various questionable moves while I was away, and since I came back they only intensified. He’s been seemingly accidentally misleading us, or doing foul and loose moves that made the situation much harder, often turning it into the enemy’s favor, all the time. Jongup knows he’s often the main man of a mission, simply because he’s the strongest, the quickest, and the best at this whole thing, and it just seems odd he’s been making so many mistakes recently, if he’s so good at it. I really don’t want to suspect any of my people, as we’ve been through so much that I don’t just see them as my members - they’re my five best friends that I love and treasure with my whole heart - so it’s hard to believe that one of them could be plotting something against the others, but.. I can’t leave this possibility out-”

“And what would you do if, for let’s say, I somehow managed to act suspicious?” you cut him off quickly, catching him off-guard, “Would you immediately think of the possibility of my betrayal as well?”

He stared at you with a puzzled expression, a little bit of hurt and confusion written all over his face. You knew it was a tough question, so you patiently waited for a reply.

“How can you be sure I wouldn’t be able to go against you? For all you know, I could greet you one morning with a knife to the throat instead of breakfast, or anything really. I know a few of your weak spots, and, even though most of those are emotional-wise, I’m creative and I could think of something….”

Were you being too harsh? Thoughts kept racing back and forth in your mind, and you figured you maybe were.

“Channie, I-”

“You had a thousand chances to do it, but you still haven’t,” he cut you off, looking you straight in the eyes, “At first you were afraid of me, but, don’t lie to me now when I say this - there was clearly a point in our relationship when you hated me to the last bone, and you still didn’t turn your back to me. In the worst case, if not for the sake of love, then for the sake of your own safety - you wouldn’t even dare to try..”

“To be honest, I regret bringing this topic up at all,” you told him, looking away for a bit, “We’ve gone such a long way, and now that I developed more feelings than I probably should've towards you, this is not what I want to hear. The whole thing about just thinking about my own safety when I could clearly care less about it..”

“Hey, hey, babe. Don’t take that too seriously, you know I’m a loud mouth who lets some phrases that shouldn’t be said past my lips,” he was quick to take your empty glass out of your hand and place it on a side table together with his. It took him seconds to rest his arms and head on your lap, and it took you even less to tangle your hand in his hair.

“I know what you’re trying to say. I wouldn’t believe anyone if they told me you were plotting revenge against me, or thinking of betrayal, but I suddenly get wary when one of my closest friends starts acting differently. I know you’re wondering how I can make assumptions in such a fast and reckless fashion, but I want you to understand - mistakes in my line of work can often have a lethal outcome, so, if something or someone stands out and seems bothersome or suspicious, you can’t just let it slide..”

This position, you had to admit, was more than comfortable. With his head and arms resting on your lap like this, he seemed so apologetic for his opinions and so vulnerable. You wondered if anyone else got to see and experience this side of him, or if you were the only lucky one to get to see the true face of Kim Himchan, but your thoughts were cut off with a sentence.

“.. And, you were right, I don’t know how it feels to have my lover point a gun at me, but I know how it feels to have my lover try to leave me for good, and that hurts tons as well..”

It was quite funny, wasn’t it? How you realized the love you had for Minhyun back then was one-sided, and months ago Himchan’s love for you was quite one-sided as well. You chuckled a little, earning a questionable look from him, and lightly cupped his face, turning his head so that he would be facing you.

“Don’t worry, Channie,” you told him softly, a faint smile playing on your lips, “Don’t ever think I’ll try to leave you ever again, okay? I’m here to stay…”

You couldn’t help but let your mind race that night as you tried to fall asleep, noticing how Himchan stirred in his sleep from time to time and seemed to have a hard time properly falling asleep at all. He’d told you many stories of how him and the others had met, and his and Jongup’s story was by far the most fascinating one, so you laid there, trying to remember it in detail in order to understand how painful this possible betrayal could be to Himchan.

It was a few years ago, when Himchan had barely entered his twenties and Jongup was still nowhere near his. At that point it was Himchan, Yongguk and Youngjae, who’d managed to somehow depart from their previous gangs and assemble their own three people squad, in order to protect themselves a little better and guarantee their survival in this world, as they were tired of being someone else’s marionettes who could be toyed around with and sent out into the battlefield with low chances of survival. 

It was another clash of opinions, another gunfight against a much stronger enemy who promised to either go down underground or go down in history. Coming out strong and alive seemed close to impossible, up until Himchan noticed a very simple pattern going on on the enemy’s side.

He was just a boy, not even an adult yet, but he was so damn good at it. His aim was quite sharp, just a little worse than all of Himchan’s reflexes, and the longer he watched this young lad working to get his gang to win, the more he was sure than the whole attacking style they had evolved around him and only him.

He was the only person who could actually land a decent shot, and everyone else was only simple backup. Plus, it didn’t look like he was trying too hard to protect his comrades, as, when Himchan had seen through their plan and moved forwards together with Youngjae, giving him clear instructions of hitting everyone else first before that one guy in the middle, Jongup didn’t seem to move or flinch when he saw his mates falling to the ground, suffering life-threatening injuries that would make them fade away in minutes, if not seconds. He even smirked, raising a feeling of disgust inside Himchan’s stomach, as it was clear he simply only cared about himself and no one else.

“Jongup, are you stupid? Do as told, or I’ll make sure you won’t come home alive tonight!!” someone behind him shouted, and, to their surprise, Jongup stopped firing, making himself an easy target, and turned around.

“I’d rather die from theses guys who actually know how to hold a gun and treat each other with respect than by a scum like you, who treats everyone like dogs in order to save his own skin.”

He almost got his head shot through by his leader. Almost. 

Youngjae shouted from the left side, as Himchan was still holding the gun in front of him and panting slightly. Youngjae had cleared off the left side, and Yongguk had provided backup and instructions all along. Himchan had just hit the last person on his side, leaving a lone boy standing in the middle of this battlefield, with his eyes fixated right on Himchan.

“I’d never seen a stare like that,” Himchan had told you once, when you were bandaging over his wounds and listening to his stories of the past, “It was a mixture of being hopelessly lost and still having this bloodlust that fueled him to take another shot. He’d just refused his leader’s commands, and stopped shooting, sending his team off to die. He had nowhere else to go, as he’d understood that even though his skill was a quite high one, he couldn’t match the three of us. Youngjae’s aim was just a little worse, my skills of avoiding shots were no jokes and Yongguk was excellent in giving commands and providing backup. He wouldn’t win, so he didn’t even try, casually standing there and awaiting his death.”

Needless to say, the death he was waiting for never came.

He dropped his gun and put his hands up, smirking one last time and saying.
“I’m all yours. Life wasn’t worth living if I was forced to spend it with those assholes anyways, and I’d be honored if guys as skilled as you took it away from me..”

Instead, Himchan made his way over, first mentioning for Youngjae to keep his eyes open for any situation, because this guy still couldn’t be trusted.

“You know that you’d just committed the biggest crime you could, right?” Himchan tilted his head to the right, wanting to smack this boy for only smiling a smug smile in response.

“I don’t know what crime you’re talking about-”

“Betraying your leader. And the whole team,”

Himchan pointed his gun right at Jongup’s guts, holding his hand on the trigger in case he’d have to shoot,

“And that isn’t something you should get away with.”

“Then don’t let me get away,”

Jongup said, holding his grounds as brave as possible,

“But know they didn’t deserve it either. I wasn’t the one who stormed into a family home one night, killing off everybody and taking away their two sons because they both were a decent shot and could be of good use.”

Himchan felt his world breaking apart as he looked at the kid in front of him. He’d heard about a thing like this happening - gangs kidnapping young kids who could possibly be of good use for them, but he never thought he’d in fact have to face one of those boys at any point in his life.

“And you think that gives you the right to betray your team and send them off to die, simply because they relied on you and made you the main cogwheel in their machine?”

“I could care less,”

he simply answered, shrugging,

“They were stupid enough to believe they could kill my family and get rid of my brother afterwards, and still put all of their trust in me, thinking I could spare them the hard work and the bloody hands..”

Needless to say no bullets were shot that evening, and Jongup was taken along with the other guys. Youngjae didn’t think it was a good idea, but Himchan insisted they had nothing to loose, and even Yongguk had to admit that the lad could be of good use in the future.

Jongup was nowhere close to a problem child, and even seemed quite grateful that the others had decided to spare him just because of their good hearts. He made extra efforts in his first years of being a member of B.A.P, or rather a member of a nameless organization that became B.A.P only after picking up two more members, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the guys from B.A.P were the ones who seemingly talked sense into Jongup’s head, and helped him evolve into who he was now - a fearless killer with no mercy, but a strong desire to do everything in order to make his team win, or so everyone thought at least, up until quite recently.

You’d heard stories of him being more reckless than anyone, because he was apparently already missing a few screws in his head when he was taken in by the guys. He could set fear into the enemy’s hearts in the blink of an eye, as taking lives was his favorite thing to do. Yongguk always explained it as a childhood trauma from when he saw his family being murdered, but even he wasn’t sure a trauma like that could’ve caused his murderous behavior, because once he started shooting, it was quite hard to make him stop. Often he had to be reminded he wasn’t on a murder mission, and sometimes it even took a dangerous clash of opinions where he liked reminding everyone that he was the strongest and fastest of all in order to make him stop. 

He was almost the perfect killer. Almost. There was one major flaw he had though, and he was fully aware of it.

That was the thing Himchan and Yongguk possessed, and could use in their and their team’s favor every single time they were on a mission. Perception of the future, and the consequences certain moves could have. 

Jongup was a murder machine, but he lacked tactic and a filter of when and how to stop, which often drove him to the edge. He’s always been quite close with Himchan, viewing him as someone to look up to and someone to learn from, but it nagged at him - the fact he could never see through fights and people, even after countless explanations from Himchan on how to do it. He hated knowing someone was superior to him, because he was used to being the best at everything, and that was the thing that made him oh so dangerous.

The fact that he was almost the best.


The fact he knew and was capable of using it against someone.

The fact he’d betrayed once already, and could easily do it again.

It took Himchan a week from your conversation to come home more worried than usual, quickly finding you reading in the bedroom and making you put your book down and pay close attention to him.

“Babe, promise me now you’ll obey and do as told, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt, and I sense it might get ugly and dangerous in the nearest days to come…”

His tone indicated he was more than simply worried, and your reflexes immediately made you lean in and move closer to him, taking his hand in yours and toying around with his fingers, seemingly calming him down a little.

“I don’t know what will happen in the nearest future, but I’m more than certain you might get in the way, even though I’ll try to prevent this from happening, so I want you to listen to all of my instructions and follow them closely, understood?”

You nodded, listening carefully and being surprised by how on the edge and nervous Himchan seemed while talking about what could possibly happen. It took you long enough to make him relax a little and calm down afterwards, and you wondered how he used to calm down before he knew you. You’d never seen him so triggered about something, and.. So scared?

“Channie, don’t break your head over it.. You’ll have to eventually face the issue, but doing it with a cool head would be better than being triggered and alarmed about it, unable to fully concentrate-”

“(Y/N), please promise me you won’t be afraid,” he looked into your eyes, and you were more than certain he wasn’t listening to you this whole time, “You will be fine, and I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, do you hear?”

It was clear to you now - the fear in his eyes wasn’t because of the fact he was worried about himself or the guys, no. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to keep you safe, and wouldn’t be there when you needed him the most.

It was a realization you didn’t quite like. He wasn’t sure if he could hold his promise of protecting you, and that made him emotionally weak and unstable. You recalled how the only good thing this relationship could offer you used to be safety, and now, as it was slowly fading away, you realized how little you cared about it. It wasn’t you and your well-being you were scared to lose track of. It was your one and only lover, the forever ticking time-bomb Himchan, who could explode at any given moment that you thought of and cared about, so you tried to pull yourself together in order to be there for him and provide any support you could, showing him how you feared nothing when he was by your side, even things you knew less to nothing about.

You cupped his face with your hand, looking him right in the eyes, and stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“I’m not afraid,” you told him, slowly and calmly, making sure he clearly got your message, “And I  know you’ll protect me when I’ll need it the most. Channie, you will be there and everything will be fine, just like always, understood?”

It took him a while, but he finally managed to nod in response, gulping and turning his head away as he let the realization that he should stay calm and not show off how weak and afraid he currently was sink in. Right as he was about to turn around to face you, he felt your body press lightly against his, your arms travelling all around him and holding him tightly.

“I’ve never doubted you, and you know that, because even though there might have been things I lied about in the past, this is the truth. You’re a smart leader, and someone who knows how to think three steps ahead and how to inspect and handle the situation once it comes around the corner-”

“Please, just trust me, because I currently don't  trust myself,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder.

“I trust you, Channie,” you quietly said, stroking his back up and down and knowing you actually meant it, “With my whole heart.”

It was unusual to feel him trembling in your arms, and just for a second you thought he might start crying. But he was stronger than that, knowing he couldn’t be weak just because he wanted to. Knowing he had people to protect and take care of, and knowing that if he went down, you would too, and vice versa. 

Only you could ever see him this scared and this weak, and he allowed himself to be caressed by your gentle hands and be cooed at by you. He was a leader, but not a fearless one, and today that fact stood out more than any other day of the week. He was afraid of what was yet to come, but he swallowed those emotions, knowing he wasn’t alone. You would listen carefully to his instructions, and obey without asking additional questions, because you trusted him, and he couldn’t let you down.

Because he swore not to let you down. Because he couldn’t.

The next day the door creaked open, and footsteps could be heard in the hallway. You were having piano practice again, trying out one of the easy duets Himchan had given you to practice while he was away when you heard it. The footsteps were quiet and barely noticeable, but you could still hear them well and even tell at what distance they were. You continued playing not bothering to turn around, until you heard nothing but silence. Your eyes scanned over the black lacquer of the piano, and you saw a frame standing a few feet away from you.  

“You know that if I’ll be the one standing behind your back, I’ll simply wrap my arms around you and protect you, but if it’s someone else, they might stab you with a knife in the place where it hurts the most, so be prepared,” Himchan’s voice rang through your ears as you stopped playing and put your hands in your lap.

Too short to be Himchan, and a little too skinny as well. His face couldn’t be seen in the reflection, but you didn’t have to see his face in order to know who he was.

“Won’t you properly greet me, Yup?” you told him, feeling the corners of your mouth turning upwards and forming a smirk. He froze on the spot, and you felt quite accomplished for making Jongup feel a little jumpy and surprised, out of all people.

All was depending on you know, and you smirked a little wider, knowing you couldn’t let Himchan down. Your mouth opened, and you spoke, your voice as crystal clear and brave as ever.

“I’m afraid Himchan isn’t home, so whatever you were planning to attempt to do, it won’t work or go unnoticed..”

“That is,” you turned around, facing him and catching his caught off-guard stare, “Unless you came to meet up with me…”

-thoughts about Vasquez-

So I was thinking about Vas (what’s new?) and something struck me.

When Sam asked Vasquez to come with and offered the deal that he would no longer look for Vas if he came with him, Vasquez acted as if that was his reason for coming. Really though, he could have shot Emma and Sam right then and there and run for it- Sam wasn’t armed and Vasquez had Emma’s gun; he could have easily overpowered both of them. If Vasquez was a cold-blooded killer and shot a ranger without a good reason, I don’t see why he wouldn’t have just killed Sam and Emma too, but he chose not to. Instead he chose to go with them, maybe to experience something closer to a normal life if only for a little while, maybe to try to do some good. Who knows. 

Then later, after Goodnight leaves and Sam is making sure everyone is really down to fight, Vasquez says he will because he has nowhere else to go. Really, that doesn’t make much sense. He has to know odds are that he will die in this fight, so there’s no reason for him to do it unless he believes it’s the right thing to do. He could have left and just gone back to his usual situation. But he stayed and fought.

I feel like there’s a general mood in the fandom that we all make out Vas to be a good guy without any real evidence for it, but I think there is some solid evidence for it. There’s more, but these were my two thoughts for the day XD

15th Advent Squad Imagine

Originally posted by fatalitum

Your P.O.V.

Being a part of Suicide Squad wasn’t easy. Especially when everyone else seemed to be so darn good at things and I was Why did they even take me? Did they think that I would actually use my powers to fucking help the world? Maybe if I’d absolutely have to, but this squad could do this without me.

Rick was leading us through the streets and it was raining lightly. Some of his armed men were surrounding us as I walked behind the rest of the squad. Harley was in front of me, holding her bat on her shoulders as she chewed some gum. Katana and Rick were in front of us. Deadshot was between Harley and El Diablo. One had already blown up as again the drunk Aussie Boomerang tried to chat with the soldiers. Killer Croc was right behind Katana.

I watched them all. It’s like I ceased to exist. I was Y/N, the girl with personality problems. Most of the time I could actually be almost normal, even tho I still wasn’t sure what was right or wrong. I could kill without thinking through. But then sometimes I got really strong. If I wanted to, I could get like super strength. I used it to commit crimes. Besides being super strong I could be super fast. Those combined with a criminal mind was a fatal result. But right now I just walked here, ignoring the fact I had a gun and I could probably try to escape. But I didn’t want to blow up to millions of human flesh pieces either.

‘’So..What’s your story?’’ Harley Quinn broke the silence. Deadshot glanced at us, but didn’t say anything. Harley stepped back so she was next to me. I knew she was vexing so I just shut up. ‘’Huh don’t be so boring!’’ Harley sighed and poked my shoulder with her bat. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. ‘’Hello? I’m talking to you’ she groaned and tried to poke me again. I grabbed her bat and used my powers to rip it out of her hand. Every time I used my powers, I burnt a little more energy. So if I used a lot, I would probably go to sleep after my heist. Luckily this was as much as ten steps, nothing more.

‘’Hey!’’ Harley yelled as she realized I had her bat. ‘’Don’t piss me off’’ I told her, but found this amusing. She tried to grab it, but I used my super speed to move my arm quicker than hers. Harley groaned and tried to jump and get it back, but I was quicker. It was like cat and mouse and I was smiling soon. ‘’Girls!’’ Deadshot tried to make us focus, but it was useless now. Both of us seemed to take this too seriously.

‘’Can’t catch it’’ I teased Harley and jumped up. Suddenly she grabbed my shirt and we lost out balance, making us fall onto the ground. We both screeched and then hit the ground, rolling on top of each other. Harley and I looked into each others’ eyes and a second later we were both laughing. I just found this funny. ‘’I didn’t know you had so much in you Y/N’’ Harley giggled while I gave her the bat. Then we got up again. ‘’Watch out Harls’’ I warned her with a smile.

‘’Okay that’s cute and all but we really need to get going’’ Boomerang sighed,making us look at him angrily. ‘’Look who’s talking instead of drinking’’Harley sassed and then glanced at me. ‘’We’re bonding. Isn’t that great?’’ She then chirped and grabbed my hand. My eyes widened a little, but I tried to keep my cool. Then we caught up with the squad, Harley happily holding my hand which I didn’t really mind.

‘’You know..If you weren’t so pretty, I’d be more pissed off’’ Harley whispered to me. Now she’s a real flirt. ‘’I could say the same to you’’ I chuckled, making her smile. ‘’When my boyfriend comes to get me, I’ll make him disable you from the bomb as well. We could be evil together doll face’’

I’ve been sitting on this thing that was eventually going to be some beautiful freewood with the two of them goading each other into jealousy, y’know, to push the other into doing something.

—– anyway, I’ve had this in my drive like two months, and it kinda works like a standalone thing. I might work on it in the future, but probably not because I’m lazy af.

You want to hear a joke?

Though perhaps you may hear this and think it more suited to be a Shakespearian tragedy of some kind; after all, it’s got a fair few dick jokes under its belt.

There’s this man, right? A mercenary who goes by The Vagabond and remained true to that name. A traveller, a man without a home or a goal, who wanders into cities with nought but the clothes on his back and the guns that weigh him down. He makes his kills, takes the money, and vanishes into the chaos of the world.

He’s emotionally stunted and lost, like most killers.

Until he isn’t.

Keep reading

As usual I was thinking of Gabriel from Solo Quiero Caminar and came to some conclusions/paralells I’d like to share with you guys :)

- Gabriel (the character) is known by the codename El Arcánjel (The Arcangel)

- Gabriel, according to the bible and other writings, is indeed an archangel

- Archangels were the first creations of God; angels of high rank which answer to him first and only

- they’re neither good nor bad, they only do what their told but are feared for their power which comes from God

- the name Gabriel means “God’s strength” or “strong man of God”

- he’s the one who told both the prophet Daniel and Mary about the Messiah’s coming

- this archangel is known as a messenger from God and an angel of death

- The character Gabriel has only known life beside Felix since he was a child; he was fabricated killer because up until the very end there seemed to be no other way to survive and think over his vengeance against his father

- he acted as Felix’s right hand when it came to making deals and sending messages to his enemies and allies, both by gun and bribing and got his own fame for it (no one dared say a word against him)

- he’s always done what he was told, killed any man (except women and children) without blinking or asking questions

- many of Felix’s men basically answered to him since the practical matters always fell on his hands; @diegocassians and i share the opinion that at the end of the day he was the boss by proxy

Things Brock wants:

a very, very small house. Maybe an apartment. Not one of those tiny house things though fuck that.

To walk Killer without a leash around his neighborhood without anyone calling the cops

To not wake up alone

More guns. Lots more guns

Take a trip to Italy for fun & not to kill someone

To torture someone and still be allowed to kiss his SO when he’s got blood on his face

To have an SO. Preferably one that doesn’t mind his scars or his violence.

And most importantly….

For his death scene to not be so fucking shitty and out of character.